The Black Sheep by Ruby M. Ayres

Author:Ruby M. Ayres
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781448203482
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2019-11-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

The black sheep slept badly that night; he was over-tired, and his head ached, and he woke in the morning in a bad temper.

He lay on his back for a long time staring up at the ceiling and trying to remember what had happened last night; the remembrance that he was an engaged man woke him up thoroughly; he got up and began to dress. Meredith came to his door.

‘Not dressed! We’ve had breakfast. The Durrants and the rest of ’em are going back to town today, you know.’

The black sheep muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘Good riddance!’

‘Are you going with them?’ he asked ungraciously.

Meredith laughed. ‘No, I’m not,’ he said, frankly. ‘What happened to you last night, by the by?’

‘The car broke down and we had to walk home.’

‘We?’ Meredith echoed quickly.

‘That’s what I said — I was with Norah Ackroyd.’ Laxton laughed rather mirthlessly. ‘We were put through our paces properly when we did get home, I tell you.’

‘The old man?’

‘Yes — not that it makes any difference.’

‘Of course not.’

‘I suppose there’s not much chance of saving Barton Manor, then,’ Meredith said abruptly.

Laxton was brushing his hair vigorously; he paused for a moment.

‘The Lord only knows!’ he said lugubriously.

He threw the brushes down and climbed into a coat.

He looked at Meredith’s back. ‘I suppose ... you — you haven’t heard anything of — of the Hewetts?’

Meredith glanced over his shoulder.

‘Not a word. I’m going over to Didsbury some time today — I’ll hear something then, I expect.’

Laxton gave a quick sigh.

‘Come on — let’s go downstairs.’ He turned to the door. Meredith did not follow him — he was leaning forward looking down into the garden with sudden interest. When Laxton was out on the landing he called to him.

‘George — here! Come here — quickly.’

The black sheep turned; he was yawning wearily.

‘What’s up now?’ He sauntered back. ‘What’s the excitement?’ he asked. He looked over his friend’s shoulder. ‘Good Lord! my future father-in-law!’ he said softly.

Mr. Ackroyd was walking up the drive leading to the house. There was a sort of reluctance in his whole bearing.

The two men at the window looked at one another.

‘It is the same Ackroyd,’ Meredith said in a queer voice; ‘the chap I told you about — the man my father knew.’

There was a sort of excitement in his eyes. ‘What do you suppose he’s come for?’ he asked.

The black sheep hunched his shoulders. ‘The Lord only knows! Perhaps he’s thought of something he forgot to call me last night. Let’s go down.’

He went down the stairs unconcernedly. Mr. Ackroyd was in the hall when he reached it.

‘Good morning, sir,’ said Laxton. His voice was a little subdued.

‘Good morning,’ said Mr. Ackroyd. The two men eyed one another suspiciously.

‘Won’t you — er — come in?’ Laxton asked. He led the way to the library, held the door for Mr. Ackroyd to pass, and closed it. There was a little silence.

The elder man looked round the room critically; he had not

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