# The Black Moth/Chapter 29

After spending a restless night, starting at every sound, and hearing the hours strike slowly away, Lady O’Hara arose not a whit refreshed and considerably more ill at ease than she had been before.
During the night she had imagined all sorts of impossible horrors to have befallen her husband, and if, when the reassuring daylight had come, the horrors had somewhat dispersed, enough remained to cause her an anxious morning as she alternated between the hall window and the gate.
No less worried was Jim Salter. He had returned from Fittering last night to find his master and Sir Miles gone, Lady O’Hara in a state of frightened bewilderment, and the house in a whirl. No one, least of all poor Molly, seemed to know exactly where the two men had gone. All she knew was that they had come back upon a scene of turmoil, with Mr. Beauleigh in the midst of a small crowd of excited servants. Her husband had elbowed his way through, and into his ears had Mr. Beauleigh poured his story. Then O’Hara seemed to catch the excitement, and she had been hurried info the house with the hasty explanation that Jack was off after Devil, who had caught Diana, and he must to the rescue. Ten minutes after, she had an alarming vision of him galloping off down the drive, his sword at his side and pistols in the saddle-holsters. The poor little lady had sent an imploring cry after him, checked almost before it had left her lips. Afterwards she wished it had never been uttered, and rather hoped that it had escaped O’Hara’s ears.
​Salter arrived not half-an-hour later, and his feelings when told that his beloved master had ridden off in search of a fight, may be more easily imagined than described. He was all for setting out in his wake, but her ladyship strongly vetoed the plan, declaring that Sir Miles would be rescue enough, and she was not going to be left entirely without protectors. Jim was far too respectful to point out that there were five able-bodied men, not counting himself, in the house, but as his master had left no instructions for him, he capitulated.
He proved nought but a Job’s comforter next day, for when my lady pessimistically premised that both Carstares and her husband were undoubtedly hurt, he did not, as she expected he would, strive to reassure her, but gave a gloomy assent. Whereupon she cast an indignant glance in his direction, and turned her back.
At four in the afternoon they were both in the hall, anxiously watching the drive.
“To be sure, ’tis monstrous late!” remarked Molly, with wide, apprehensive eyes.
“Yes, my lady.”
“If—if nought were amiss, they should have been back by now, surely?”
“Yes indeed, my lady.”
Lady O’Hara stamped her foot.
“Don’t say yes!” she cried.
Jim was startled.
“I beg pardon, m’lady?”
“You are not to say yes! After all, they may have gone a long way—they—er—they may be tired! Jenny may have gone lame—anything—anything may have happened!”
“Yes, m’——— I mean certainly, your ladyship!” hastily amended Jim.
“In fact, I should not be surprised an they were not at all hurt!”
​He shook his head despondently, but luckily for him the lady failed to notice it, and continued with airy cheerfulness:
“For my husband has often told me what an excellent swordsman Mr. Carstares is, and———”
“Your ladyship forgets his wound.”
What she might have been constrained to reply to this is not known, for at that moment came the sound of coach-wheels on the gravel. With one accord she and Salter flew to the door, and between them, wrenched it open, just as a gentleman’s travelling coach, postillioned by men in gold and black, and emblazoned with the Wyncham arms, drew up at the door.
My lady was down the steps in the twinkling of an eye, almost before one of the grooms had opened the door to offer an arm to my lord. Carstares sprang lightly out, followed by O’Hara, seemingly none the worse for wear.
Molly ran straight into her husband’s arms, regardless of the servants, hugging him.
Jim Salter hurried up to my lord.
“Ye are not hurt, sir?” he cried.
Carstares handed him his hat and cloak.
“Nought to speak of, Jim. But ‘Everard’ well-nigh finished me for all that!” He laughed at Jim’s face of horror, and turned to Molly, who, having satisfied herself that her husband was quite uninjured and had never once been in danger of his life, had come towards him, full of solicitude for his shoulder “Oh, my dear Jack! Miles tells me you have hurt your poor shoulder again! And pray what has been done for it? I dare swear not one of you great men had the wit to summon a doctor, as indeed you should have, for———”
“Whist now, asthore!” adjured her husband. “’Tis but a clean scratch after all. Take him into the house and give him something to drink! I’ll swear ’tis what he needs most!”
​Molly pouted, laughed and complied.
Over the ale Jack related the whole escapade up to we moment when he had parted from Diana at Littledean. Then O’Hara took up the tale with a delightful chuckle.
“Sure, Molly, ye never saw anything to equal poor old Beauleigh when his daughter had told him Jack’s name! Faith, he didn’t know what to do at all he was so excited! And Miss Betty I thought would have the vapours from the way she flew from Di to Jack and back again, in such a state of mind as ye can’t imagine!”
Molly, who had listened with round eyes, drew a deep ecstatic breath. Then she bounced up, clapping her hands, and proclaimed that she was right after all!
“What will ye be meaning, alanna?” inquired O’Hara.
“Pray, sir, did I not say over and over again that if I could only induce Jack to stay with us everything would come right? Now, Miles, you know I did!”
“I remember ye said something like it once,” admitted her spouse.
“Once, indeed! I was always sure of it. And I did coax you to stay, did I not, Jack?” she appealed.
“You did,” he agreed. “You assured me that if I was churlish enough to leave. Miles would slowly sicken and pine away!”
She ignored her husband’s ribald appreciation of this.
“Then you see that ’tis all owing to me that———” She broke off to shake O’Hara, and the meeting ended in riotous hilarity.
When he went to change his clothes, Carstares found Jim already in his room awaiting him. He hailed him gaily, and sat down before his dressing-table.
“I require a very festive costume to-night, Jim. Rose velvet and cream brocade, I think.”
“Very good, your lordship,” was the prim reply.
Jack slewed round.
​“What’s that?”
“I understand your lordship is an Earl,” said poor Jim.
“Now who was the tactless idiot who told you that? I had intended to break the news myself. I suppose now, you know my—story?”
“Yes, si—my lord. I—I suppose ye won’t be requiring my services any longer?”
“In heaven’s name, why not? Do you wish to leave me?”
“Wish to———! No, sir—my lord—I—I thought ye’d maybe want a smarter valet—and—not me.”
My lord turned back to the mirror and withdrew the pin from his cravat.
“Don’t be a fool.”
This cryptic remark seemed greatly to reassure Jim.
“Ye mean it, sir?”
“Of course I do. I should be lost without you after all this time. Marry that nice girl at Fittering, and she shall maid my lady. For I’m to be married as soon as may be!”
“Ay, s—my lord! I’m sure I’m very glad, s—your lordship. Rose, sir? With the silver lacing?”
“I think so, Jim. And a cream—very pale cream waistcoat, broidered in with rose. There is one, I know.”
“Yes, sir—your lordship.”
My lord eyed him despondently.
“Er—Jim!”
“Yes—your lordship?”
“I’m sorry, but I cannot endure it.”
“I beg pardon, my lord?”
“I can’t have you call me ‘your lordship,’ after every second word—I really cannot.”
“Why, sir—may I still call you “sir’?”
“I would much rather you did.”
“Ay, sir—thank you.”
In the middle of tying the bow to his master’s wig. Jim paused, and in the mirror Jack saw his face fall.
​“What’s amiss now? And what have you done with my patches?”
“In that little box, sir—yes—that one. I was just thinking—here’s the haresfoot, sir—that I shall never be able to see ye hold up a coach now!”
My lord, striving to affix the patch in just the right spot at the corner of his mouth, tried to control his features, failed, and went off into a peal of laughter that reached O’Hara in the room across the landing, and caused him to grin delightedly. He had not heard that laugh for many a long day.