slope beyond the hedge, Bruno appeared, checking his dancing mount. Farther away, on the hillside, a solitary horse reared, plunged and galloped idiotically up and down a distant hedge. Ricky thought he recognized the wall-eyed Mungo.
Bruno waved vaingloriously.
Julia had ridden alongside Ricky. ‘Horrid, showing-off little brute,’ said Julia. ‘Wait till I get at him.’ And she began shakily to laugh.
Mr Harkness bawled infuriated directions to Bruno about how to rejoin them by way of gates and a lane. The Pharamonds collected round Julia and Ricky.
‘I am ashamed of Bruno,’ said Jasper.
‘What’s it like,’ Carlotta asked, ‘on the other side?’
‘A sheer drop to an extremely deep and impossibly wide ditch. The mare’s all Harkness said she was to clear it.’
‘Bruno’s good, though,’ said Julia.
‘He’s given you a fright and he’s shown like a mountebank.’
Julia said: ‘Never mind!’ and leant along her horse’s neck to touch her husband’s hand. Ricky suddenly felt quite desolate.
The Pharamonds waited ominously for the return of the errant Bruno while Mr Harkness enlarged upon the prowess of Sorrel Lass which was the stable name of the talented mare. He also issued a number of dark hints as to what steps he would have taken if she had broken a leg and had to be destroyed.
In the middle of all this and just as Bruno, smiling uneasily, rode his mount into the stable-yard, Miss Harkness, forgotten by all, burst into eloquence.
She was ‘discovered’ leering over the lower half-door of an empty loose-box. With the riding crop, from which she appeared never to be parted, she beat on the half-door and screamed in triumph.
‘Yar! Yar! Yar!’ Miss Harkness screamed, ‘Old bloody Unk! She’s bloody done it, so sucks boo to rotten old you.’
Her uncle glared upon her but made no reply. Jasper, Carlotta and Louis were administering a severe if inaudible wigging to Bruno, who had unwillingly dismounted. Syd Jones had disappeared.
Julia said to Ricky: ‘We ought to bring Bruno and Dulcie together; they seem to have something in common, don’t you feel? What have you lot been saying to him?’ she asked her husband who had come across to her.
‘I’ve asked for another mount for him.’
‘Darling!’
‘He’s got to learn, sweetie. And in any case Harkness doesn’t like the idea of him riding her. After that performance.’
‘But he rode her beautifully, we must admit.’
‘He was told not to put her at the hedge.’
Syd Jones came out and led away the sorrel. Presently he re-appeared with something that looked like an elderly polo pony, upon which Bruno gazed with evident disgust.
The scene petered out. Miss Harkness emerged from the loose-box, strode past her uncle, shook hands violently with sulking Bruno and continued into the house, banging the door behind her.
Mr Harkness said: ‘Dulcie gets a bit excitable.’
Julia said: ‘She’s a high-spirited girl, isn’t she? Carlotta, darling, don’t you think we ought to hit the trail? Come along, boys. We’re off.’
There was, however, one more surprise to come. Mr Harkness approached Julia with a curious, almost a sheepish smile, and handed up an envelope.
‘Just a little thing of my own,’ he said. ‘See you this evening. Have a good day.’
When they reached the end of the drive Julia said, ‘What can it be?’
‘Not the bill,’ Carlotta said. ‘Not when he introduced it like that.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. The bill, after all, would be a little thing of his own.’
Julia had drawn what appeared to be a pamphlet from the envelope. She began to read. ‘Not true!’ she said, and looked up, wide-eyed, at her audience. ‘Not true,’ she repeated.
‘What isn’t?’ Carlotta asked crossly. ‘Don’t go on like that, Julia.’
Julia handed the pamphlet to Ricky. ‘You read it,’ she said. ‘Aloud.’
‘DO YOU KNOW,’ Ricky read, ‘that you are in danger of HELL-FIRE?’
‘DO YOU KNOW, that the DAY of JUDGEMENT is AT HAND?
‘WOE! WOE! WOE!!! cries the Prophet –’
‘Obviously,’ Julia interrupted, ‘Mr Harkness is the author.’
‘Why?’
‘Such very horsy language. “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!”’
‘He seems to run on in the same vein for a long time,’ Ricky said, turning the page. ‘It’s all about the last trump and one’s sins lying bitter in one’s belly. Wait a bit. Listen.’
‘What?’
‘Regular gatherings of the Inner Brethren at Leathers on Sunday evenings at seven-thirty to which you are Cordially Invited. Bro. Cuthbert (“Cuth”) Harkness will lead. Discourse and Discussion. Light Supper. Gents fifty p. Ladies a basket. All welcome.’
‘Well,’ said Jasper after a pause, ‘that explains everything. Or does it?’
‘I suppose it does,’ said Julia doubtfully. ‘Mr Harkness, whom we must learn to call Cuth, even if it sounds as if one had lost a tooth –’
‘How do you mean, Julia?’
‘Don’t interrupt. “Cuspid”,’ Julia said hurriedly. ‘Clearly, he’s a religious fanatic and that’s why he’s taken Miss Harkness’s pregnancy so hard.’
‘Of course. Evidently they’re extremely strict,’ Jasper agreed.
‘I wonder what they do at their parties. Would it be fun –’
‘No, Julia,’ said Louis, ‘it would not be fun; ladies a basket, or no.’
Carlotta said, ‘Do let’s go. We can discuss Mr Harkness later. There’s a perfect green lane round the corner.’
So all the Pharamonds and Ricky rode up the hill. They showed for some moments on the skyline, elegant against important clouds. Then the lane dipped into a valley and they followed it and disappeared.
III
They lunched at a little pub in Bon Accord on the extreme northern tip of the island. It was called the Fisherman’s Rest and was indeed full of guernseys, gumboots and the smell of fish. The landlord turned out to be a cousin of Bob Maistre at the Cod-and-Bottle.
Jasper
