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diff --git a/34945-h/34945-h.htm b/34945-h/34945-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cff7d8e --- /dev/null +++ b/34945-h/34945-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9504 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Golden Web, by Anthony Partridge. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} /* poetry number */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Golden Web, by Anthony Partridge + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Golden Web + +Author: Anthony Partridge + +Illustrator: William Kirkpatrick + +Release Date: January 13, 2011 [EBook #34945] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOLDEN WEB *** + + + + +Produced by Chris Curnow, Michael, Mary Meehan and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h1>THE GOLDEN WEB</h1> + +<h2>BY ANTHONY PARTRIDGE</h2> + +<h3><i>Author of "Passers-By," "The Kingdom of Earth" "The Distributors," +etc.</i></h3> + +<h3>WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY<br /> +WILLIAM KIRKPATRICK</h3> + +<h3>BOSTON<br /> +LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY<br /> +1911</h3> + +<h3><i>Copyright, 1909, 1911,</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">By Little, Brown, and Company.</span></h3> + +<h3><i>All rights reserved</i></h3> + +<h3>Published, January 1911</h3> + +<h3>THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A.</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus1" id="illus1"></a> +<img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>He held the telegram in front of her face. "Read," he said.</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#BOOK_ONE">BOOK ONE</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I. <span class="smcap">A Life for Sale</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II. <span class="smcap">The Purchase</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III. <span class="smcap">A Family Affair</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV. <span class="smcap">A Murder</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V. <span class="smcap">A Debt Incurred</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI. <span class="smcap">An Imperious Demand</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII. <span class="smcap">Love or Interest?</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII. <span class="smcap">An Awful Responsibility</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX. <span class="smcap">Winifred Rowan</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X. <span class="smcap">At the Theatre</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI. <span class="smcap">An Appeal</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII. <span class="smcap">Ruby Sinclair</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII. <span class="smcap">An Informal Tea-Party</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV. <span class="smcap">An Unexpected Visitor</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV. <span class="smcap">The Effect of a Storm</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI. <span class="smcap">A Reprieve</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII. <span class="smcap">A New Danger</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII. <span class="smcap">An Expensive Key</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX. <span class="smcap">The Search</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX. <span class="smcap">In Doubt</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI. <span class="smcap">Ruby is Disappointed</span></a><br /><br /> +<a href="#BOOK_TWO">BOOK TWO</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IA">CHAPTER I. <span class="smcap">Free to Die</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IIA">CHAPTER II. <span class="smcap">A Lapse of Memory</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IIIA">CHAPTER III. <span class="smcap">A Painful Interview</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IVA">CHAPTER IV. <span class="smcap">A Question</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VA">CHAPTER V. <span class="smcap">Mutual Information</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIA">CHAPTER VI. <span class="smcap">An Opportune Arrival</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIIA">CHAPTER VII. <span class="smcap">Hefferom is Optimistic</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIIIA">CHAPTER VIII. <span class="smcap">A Bold Move</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IXA">CHAPTER IX. <span class="smcap">Lord Nunneley is Frank</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XA">CHAPTER X. <span class="smcap">A Broken Engagement</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIA">CHAPTER XI. <span class="smcap">Bitter Words</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIIA">CHAPTER XII. <span class="smcap">A Strange Betrothal</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIIIA">CHAPTER XIII. <span class="smcap">Desperation</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIVA">CHAPTER XIV. <span class="smcap">An Afternoon's Shopping</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVA">CHAPTER XV. <span class="smcap">A Friend</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIA">CHAPTER XVI. <span class="smcap">Passion</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIIA">CHAPTER XVII. <span class="smcap">A Despairing Call</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIIIA">CHAPTER XVIII. <span class="smcap">Winifred is Trapped</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIXA">CHAPTER XIX. <span class="smcap">Miss Sinclair's Offer</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXA">CHAPTER XX. <span class="smcap">Through the Mill</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIA">CHAPTER XXI. <span class="smcap">All as it Should Be</span></a><br /><br /> +<a href="#Other_Works_LITTLE_BROWN_CO_Publishers">Other Works: LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + +<p><a href="#illus1">He held the telegram in front of her face. "Read," he said</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus2">Lady Olive came slowly forward to meet him</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus3">"There was some matter which you wished to discuss, then?" Deane asked</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus4">"I hate him!" she declared to herself. "I hate him now more than ever!"</a></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE GOLDEN WEB</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_ONE" id="BOOK_ONE"></a>BOOK ONE</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>A LIFE FOR SALE</h3> + + +<p>The contrast in personal appearance between the two men, having regard +to their relative positions, was a significant thing. The caller, who +had just been summoned from the waiting-room, and was standing before +the other's table, hat in hand, a little shabby, with ill-brushed hair +and doubtful collar, bore in his countenance many traces of the wild and +irregular life which had reduced him at this moment to the position of +suppliant. His complexion was pale almost to ghastliness, and in his +deep-set, sunken eyes there was more than a suggestion of recklessness. +He was so nervous that his face twitched as he stood there waiting, and +the fingers which held his hat trembled. His lips were a little parted, +his breathing was scarcely healthy. There was something about his whole +appearance indicative of failure. The writing upon his forehead was the +writing of despair.</p> + +<p>The man before whom he stood was of an altogether different type. His +features were strong and regular, his complexion slightly bronzed, as +though from exposure to the sun and wind. He had closely-cropped black +hair, keen gray eyes, and a determined chin. He sat before a table on +which were all the modern appurtenances of a business man in close touch +with passing events. A telephone was at his elbow, his secretary was +busy at a smaller table in the corner of the room, a typist was waiting +respectfully in the background. His confidential clerk was leaning over +his chair, notebook in hand, receiving in a few terse sentences +instructions for the morrow's operations. Stirling Deane, although he +was barely forty years old, was at the head of a great mining +corporation. He had been the one man selected for the position when the +most important and far-reaching amalgamation of recent days had taken +place. And this although he came of a family whose devotion to business +had always been blended with a singular aptitude for and preëminence in +sports. Deane himself, until the last few years, had played cricket for +his county, had hunted two days a week, and had by no means shown that +whole-hearted passion for money-making which was rife enough in the +circles amid which he moved.</p> + +<p>He wound up his instructions, and dismissed his clerk with a few curt +and final words. Then he turned round in his chair and faced his +visitor.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to have kept you, Rowan," he said. "This is always rather a +busy day in the city, and a busy time."</p> + +<p>His visitor, who had been waiting for an hour in an ante-room, and was +then esteemed fortunate to be accorded an interview, looked around him +with a little smile.</p> + +<p>"So you've prospered, Deane," he said.</p> + +<p>"Naturally," the other answered. "I always meant to. And you, Rowan?"</p> + +<p>The visitor shook his head. "I have tried many things," he said; "all +failures,—disposition or luck, I suppose. What is it, I wonder, that +keeps some men down while others climb?"</p> + +<p>Deane shrugged his shoulders. "Disposition," he said, "is only an +appendage, and luck doesn't exist. In nine cases out of ten, if a man's +will is strong enough, he climbs."</p> + +<p>Rowan nodded gloomily. "Perhaps that's it," he assented. "I never had +any will, or if I had, it didn't seem worth while to use it."</p> + +<p>"Take a seat," said Deane. "You don't look fit to stand. What can I do +for you? We shall be interrupted in a few moments."</p> + +<p>"I want something to do," Rowan said.</p> + +<p>"I can't give it to you," answered Deane, firmly but not unkindly.</p> + +<p>"You don't beat about the bush," the other declared, with a hard little +laugh.</p> + +<p>"Why should I?" Deane asked. "It would only waste our time, and be, +after all, a mistaken kindness. There isn't a man about my place who +hasn't grown up under my own personal observation. It's an important +business this, Rowan. I daren't risk a single weak link. To be frank +with you,—and you see I am being frank,—I'd sooner pay your salary +than have you here."</p> + +<p>"Give me a letter to someone else, then," Rowan begged. "I'm just back +from Africa, broken."</p> + +<p>"I can't do that," Deane answered. "I know you well. I like you. We have +been friends. We have been together in difficulties. More than once you +have been in a way useful to me. I have every disposition to serve you. +But you were never made for business, or any form of regular work. I +would not offer you a place in my own office, and I cannot pass you on +to my friends. What else can I do for you?"</p> + +<p>Rowan looked into his hat, and laughed a little bitterly. "What the +devil else is there anyone can do for me?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"I can lend you some money," Deane said shortly.</p> + +<p>"I shall take it," Rowan answered; "but it will be spent pretty soon, +and I doubt whether you'll ever get it back. I want a chance to make a +fresh start."</p> + +<p>Deane shook his head. "I can't help you," he said,—"not in that sort of +way, at any rate. If you wanted to settle down in the country, I'd try +and find you a place there."</p> + +<p>"No good," Rowan answered. "I want to make money, and I want to make it +quick."</p> + +<p>The telephone bell rang, and Deane was busy for several moments +answering questions and giving instructions. Then he turned once more to +his visitor.</p> + +<p>"Rowan," he said, "you talk like all the others who come down into the +city expecting to find it a sort of Eldorado. I can do nothing for you. +How much money shall I lend you? Stop!" he said, holding out his hand. +"I don't want to seem unkind, but I am a busy man. I don't want to lend +you ten pounds to-day, and have you come and borrow another ten pounds +next week, and another the week after. You and I went through some rough +times together. We've heard the bullets sing. We've known what a licking +was like, and we've shouted ourselves hoarse with joy when the good time +came. I don't forget these things, man. I don't want you for a moment to +believe that I have forgotten them. Ask me for any reasonable sum, and +I'll give it you. But afterwards we shake hands and part, at any rate so +far as the city is concerned. You understand?"</p> + +<p>Rowan leaned forward in his chair. He wetted his dry lips nervously with +his tongue. The look of ill-health in his features was almost painfully +manifest. The writing which it is not possible to mistake was on his +face.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Deane," he said hoarsely, "don't think I am ungrateful. +You've put the matter straight to me like a man, and, if needs be, I'll +ask you for a good round sum and go, and I'll take my oath you'll never +see me again. But listen. I am in a bad way. I was in the hospital last +week, and they told me a few things."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," said Deane. "You shall go away and recuperate. When you're +feeling stronger you can think about some work."</p> + +<p>Rowan shook his head. "That isn't it," he said. "I'm a sick man, but I'm +not that kind of invalid. I have somewhere about twelve months to +live—no more. I want, somehow or other, before I die, to make a little +money. I don't want a fortune—nothing of that sort—but I want to make +just a little."</p> + +<p>"You have a wife?" Deane asked quietly.</p> + +<p>Rowan shook his head. "A sister. Poor little girl, she's wearing herself +out typing in an office, and I can't bear the thought of leaving her all +alone with nothing to fall back upon."</p> + +<p>Deane drummed with his fingers upon the table. His manner was not +unsympathetic, but betrayed the slight impatience of a man of affairs +discussing an unpractical subject with an unpractical person.</p> + +<p>"My dear Rowan," he said, "don't you see that your very illness makes it +absurd to imagine that you can take a position and save any amount of +money worth mentioning in it, in twelve months? The idea is absurd."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it sounds so," Rowan admitted. "But listen, Deane. You know I +have many weak points, but I am not a coward. I like big risks, and I am +always willing to take them. The doctor gives me twelve months—that +means, I suppose, about seven months during which I shall be able to get +about, and five months of slow torture in a hospital. I mention this +again so that you can understand exactly how much I value my life. Isn't +there any work you could put me on to where the risk was great—the +greater the better—but if I succeeded I could make a reasonable sum of +money? Think!"</p> + +<p>Deane shook his head. "My dear Rowan," he said, "we are not in Africa +now, you know. We are in a civilized city, where life and death have no +other than their own intrinsic worth."</p> + +<p>"You are sure?" persisted Rowan. "I don't mind what I do," he added, in +a lower tone. "I've lived in wild countries, and I've lived a wild life. +My conscience is elastic enough. I'd take on anything in the world which +meant money. You have great interests under your control. You must have +enemies. Sometimes there are enterprises into which a man in your +position would enter willingly enough if he could find a partner who +would be as silent as the grave, and who would risk everything—I mean +that—not only his life, but everything, on the chance of success."</p> + +<p>Deane shook his head slowly, and then stopped. A sudden change came into +his face. He had the air of a man absorbed with an unexpected thought. A +flickering ray of sunshine had come struggling through the dusty window +from the court outside. It found its way across Deane's desk, with its +piles of papers and documents. It rested for a moment upon his dark, +thoughtful face. Rowan watched him eagerly. Was it his fancy, or was +there indeed a shadow there greater than the responsibilities of his +position might warrant?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>THE PURCHASE</h3> + + +<p>Deane looked across the room towards his secretary. "Give me five +minutes alone, Ellison," he said,—"you and Miss Ansell there. See that +I am not interrupted."</p> + +<p>The young man got up at once and left the room, followed by the typist. +Deane waited until the door was closed. Then he turned once more to his +visitor.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Rowan," he said. "Do I understand you rightly? Do you mean that +you would be willing to undertake a commission which you would certainly +find unpleasant, and perhaps dangerous?"</p> + +<p>"I do mean that," Rowan declared, beating the palm of one hand with his +clenched fist. "I am a desperate man. I have no time for long service, +for industry, for perseverance, for any form of success which is to be +won by orthodox means. I am like a man who has mortgaged every farthing +he has in the world to take a thirty-five to one chance on a number. +Don't you understand? I want money, and I can't wait. I haven't time. +Give me a chance of something big. Remember what I have told you. Twelve +months of suffering life is worth little enough in the balance."</p> + +<p>"You misunderstand me a little," Deane said slowly. "What I am going to +suggest to you may seem difficult enough, and, under the circumstances, +unpleasant, but there is no actual risk—at least," he corrected +himself, "there should be none."</p> + +<p>Rowan laughed scornfully. "For Heaven's sake, don't pick your words so +carefully," he begged. "If the thing is big enough, I am not afraid. If +it is dishonest, say so. I am not a pickpocket, but I am past scruples."</p> + +<p>Once more Deane was silent for several moments. It was a chance, +this,—just a chance. He looked out of the window, and he seemed to see +in swift panorama all the splendid details of his rise to power. He saw +himself as the central figure of that panorama—respected, honored, +envied, wherever he went, east or west. It was a life, his, for a man to +be proud of. There was no one who had a word to say against him,—no one +who did not envy him his rapid climb up the great ladder. He carried +power in both hands, so that when he moved even amongst the great people +of the world a place was found for him. He realized in that one moment +what it might mean to lose these things, and he drew a little breath. He +must fight to the end, make use of any means that came to his hand. It +was a chance this, only a chance, but he would take it!</p> + +<p>"Listen, Rowan," he said, turning once more to the man who had been +watching him so eagerly, "I am taking you at your word. I am believing +that you mean exactly what you say."</p> + +<p>"God knows I do!" Rowan muttered.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," Deane continued, "I want you to understand this. The +company of which I am managing director owns, as you may have heard, the +greatest gold-fields in the world. Our chief possession, though, is the +Little Anna Gold-Mine, which was once, as you may have heard, my +property, and for which the corporation paid me a very large sum of +money. Did you ever hear anything of the history of the Little Anna +Gold-Mine, Rowan?"</p> + +<p>Rowan nodded. "It was a deserted claim which you and some others had a +shy at. Dick Murray was one of them. That brute Sinclair put you on to +it."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. "You have spoken the truth, Rowan," he said. "It was a +deserted claim. Four of us took possession, but the other three never +knew what I knew. I bought up their shares one by one. I won't go into +the matter of law now. I simply want you to understand this. The mine +grew and prospered. What it has become you know. I sold it to this +corporation, as I wished to have no outside interests, and the price +paid me was close upon a million sterling. Three days ago, in this room, +the man whom you have just spoken of—Richard Sinclair—produced +documents, and tried to convince me that he was the real owner of the +Little Anna Gold-Mine, that it had never been deserted, and that our +taking possession of it was nothing more nor less than an illegal jump."</p> + +<p>Rowan was plainly amazed. "But it was Sinclair," he exclaimed, "who gave +you the tip."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. "That," he said, "may have been part of his scheme. He +hadn't the money or the patience to work it himself, and it may have +occurred to him that if he could get someone else to do all the work, +believing that they had acquired the mine, it might be worth his +claiming afterwards. I have weighed it all up," Deane continued. "I have +been to some mining lawyers, and I have spent a small fortune in cabling +to the Cape. The conclusion I have come to is this. If Sinclair +prosecutes his claim—and he means business—and goes to law, there is +just a reasonable chance that he might win."</p> + +<p>"A reasonable chance," Rowan repeated.</p> + +<p>"It isn't only that, though," continued Deane. "There are other things +to be taken into consideration. We don't want a lawsuit. Several of our +smaller mines are doing rather badly just now, and we have been spending +an immense amount of money upon developments. Any suspicion as to the +validity of our title to the Little Anna Mine would be simply disastrous +at the present moment. Our shares would have a tremendous drop, just at +the time when we are least prepared for it."</p> + +<p>"Where do I come in?" Rowan asked quietly.</p> + +<p>"Sinclair," Deane said, "has only been in the country three days. He has +no friends, he drinks most of the day, and he is staying at the +Universal Hotel, where I imagine that he spends most of his time at the +American bar. Now I can't treat with the fellow, Rowan. That's the +trouble. If I were to show the least sign of weakness, the game would be +up. My only chance was bluff. I laughed in his face and turned him out +of the office. But bluff doesn't alter facts. You and he are old +acquaintances. I know very well that you never hit it off together, +although I never knew what was the cause of your quarrel. However, +there's nothing to prevent your going to see him. He's in that sort of +maudlin state when he'd welcome anybody who'd drink with him and let him +talk. That is where you come in, Rowan. You can drink with him, and +listen. Find out whether this is a put-up thing or whether he believes +in it."</p> + +<p>Rowan nodded. "Anything else?" he asked in a low tone.</p> + +<p>"There is no reason," Deane continued, "why you should not, if he gets +confidential, open up negotiations on your own account."</p> + +<p>"He has some documents, I suppose?" Rowan asked.</p> + +<p>"His claim to our mine," Deane answered, "is contained in a single +paper, which he told me never left his person. You were a lawyer once, +Rowan. You know how to argue, to handle facts, to make a bargain. The +return of that document to me would be worth ten thousand pounds."</p> + +<p>Rowan's breathing seemed suddenly to have become worse. His lips were +parted, there was a strange glitter in his eyes. "Ten thousand pounds!" +he muttered.</p> + +<p>"It is a great deal of money, I know," Deane said, "but understand this, +Rowan, once and for all. If this enterprise appeals to you, you must +undertake it absolutely and entirely at your own risk. Above all things, +it is important that neither Sinclair nor anyone else in the world +should ever dream that I had been behind any offer you might make, or +any course of action which you might pursue. All that I say to you is +that I am willing to give ten thousand pounds for that document."</p> + +<p>"Ten thousand pounds!" Rowan muttered. "It would be enough—more than +enough."</p> + +<p>"If you fail," continued Deane, "and find yourself in trouble, I know +nothing of you. I shall not raise a finger to help you. I demand from +you your word of honor that you do not mention my name, that you deal +with Sinclair simply as a speculative financier disposed to be his +friend. Remember that the slightest association of my name with yours +would give him the clue to the whole thing, and would mean ruin here. On +the other hand, before you go, if you tell me that you are going heart +and soul into this enterprise, I shall give you five hundred pounds. +Some of this you will need for clothes, to make a presentable +appearance, and to be able to entertain Sinclair, and play your part as +a capitalist. If you fail, you can keep the balance as a loan or a gift, +whichever you like. Now you can take your choice. I am placing a good +deal of confidence in you, but I think that I know my man."</p> + +<p>Rowan struck the end of the table with his hand. "Yes, you do, Deane!" +he declared, looking at him with kindling eyes. "You do know him, +indeed. If I were to die to-morrow, Dick Sinclair is the one man in the +world I should die hating. He served me a shabby trick once, and I've +never forgotten it. Perhaps," Rowan added,—"perhaps I may now turn the +tables upon him."</p> + +<p>"No mention of my name, mind," Deane repeated emphatically.</p> + +<p>Rowan held out his hand. "I take my chance, Deane," he said, "and on my +honor I'll play the game."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>A FAMILY AFFAIR</h3> + + +<p>A few hours later, Stirling Deane sat at a small round dining-table, +side by side with the father of the girl to whom he had been engaged for +exactly three days. His hostess, the Countess of Nunneley, and her +daughter, Lady Olive, had only just left them. It had been a dinner +absolutely <i>en famille</i>.</p> + +<p>"Draw up your chair, Deane, and try some of this port," Lord Nunneley +said.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," replied Deane, "I'll finish my champagne, if I may."</p> + +<p>"Just as you like," his host answered. "I notice you are very careful +never to mix, Deane. Perhaps you are right. There's nothing like being +absolutely fit, and you fellows in the city must have a tremendous lot +on your minds sometimes. I suppose, however prosperous you are, you +never have a day without a certain amount of anxiety?"</p> + +<p>"Never," Deane assented quietly.</p> + +<p>Lord Nunneley, who had a great reputation as a peer of marked sporting +proclivities, crossed his legs, and, leaning back in his chair, lit a +cigarette.</p> + +<p>"I never thought," he continued, "that I should be glad to give Olive to +anyone—to anyone—you won't mind if I say it—outside our own immediate +circle. Of course, I know your people were all right. I've ridden to +hounds with your father many a time, but when a family drifts into the +city, one naturally loses sight of them. You will find me a model +father-in-law, though, Deane. I never borrow money, I wouldn't be a +director of a public company for anything in the world, and I haven't a +single relation for whom I want a berth."</p> + +<p>Deane smiled. His manner was natural enough, but only he knew how +difficult he found it to continue this sort of conversation—to keep his +attention fixed upon the somewhat garrulous utterances of his +prospective father-in-law.</p> + +<p>"You are very wise to steer clear of all that sort of thing, sir," he +said. "The city is no place for men who have not been brought up to it, +and the days of guinea-pig directors are over."</p> + +<p>Lord Nunneley nodded. "My lawyers have been making inquiries about you +to-day, Deane," he said. "You insisted on my doing so, so I let them, +although it was more for your satisfaction than mine. According to their +report, you seem to have rather underestimated your position. They tell +me that yours is one of the richest corporations in the mining world, +and that you yourself are very wealthy."</p> + +<p>Deane inclined his head slowly. He leaned across the table, and helped +himself to a cigarette. A few nights ago he could have listened to such +a speech with a feeling of genuine satisfaction. Now, everything seemed +changed. The rock upon which he had stood seemed to have become a +shifting quicksand. Dick Sinclair was a blackmailer and a thief, he told +himself, with a fierce desire to escape from the shadow which seemed +somehow to have settled upon him. The document he had brandished was not +worth the paper it was written on! His attack, even if he ventured to +make it, could prove no more venomous than the sting of an insect. Yet +the shadow remained. Deane, for the first time, possibly, in his life, +felt that his nerve had temporarily gone. It was all that he could do to +sit still and listen to his companion's easy talk.</p> + +<p>"Of course, I am glad enough for Olive to marry a rich man, especially +as her tastes seem to run that way," Lord Nunneley continued; "but I +tell you frankly that I shouldn't have fancied a marriage for money pure +and simple. I am not a wealthy man, but I can keep my places going +pretty comfortably, and I don't know the meaning of a mortgage. Olive +will have her thousand a year settled upon her for life when she +marries, and something more when I die. In a sense, it's nothing, of +course, but it will help pay for her frocks."</p> + +<p>"I am sure you are very generous," Deane murmured. "I had not even +considered the question of dowry so far as Olive was concerned."</p> + +<p>Lord Nunneley nodded. "As I remarked just now," he went on, "I should +have hated the idea of a marriage for money pure and simple. I have seen +you ride to hounds, Deane, as well as any man I know, and there's no one +I'd sooner trust to bring down his birds at an awkward corner than you. +That sort of thing counts, you know. I always meant to have a sportsman +for a son-in-law, and I am thankful that your city life hasn't spoiled +you for the other things. By the way, how old are you, Deane?"</p> + +<p>"I shall be forty my next birthday," Deane answered.</p> + +<p>His host nodded. "Well," he said, "you won't want to go wearing yourself +out making more millions, surely? Why don't you retire, and buy an +estate?"</p> + +<p>"I have thought of it," Deane answered. "I mean to take things easier, +at any rate, after my marriage."</p> + +<p>Lord Nunneley sipped his wine reflectively. "I have never done a stroke +of work all my life," he remarked, "beyond looking after my agent's +accounts, which I have never been able to understand, and trying a +little scientific farming, by which I have invariably lost money. I do +respect a man, though, who has been through the mill and held his own, +and against whom no one has a word to say. At the same time, Deane," he +added, "don't stick at it too long. If you'll forgive my mentioning it, +you don't look quite the man you did even two or three years ago."</p> + +<p>"I am a little run down," Deane said. "I am going to take a holiday in a +few weeks."</p> + +<p>"You are coming to us in Scotland, of course," said Lord Nunneley. "But +holiday or no holiday, take my advice, and even if you have to sacrifice +a bit, don't stay in harness too long. The money you can't spend isn't +worth a snap of the fingers. You and Olive could live on the interest of +what you have, and there's scarcely a thing you need deny yourselves."</p> + +<p>Deane hesitated for a moment. "That is true enough," he said, "but it is +never quite so easy, when one is involved in things as I am, to escape +from them. The Devil Spider spins a golden web to catch us mortals, and +it's hard work to get out of it. I am afraid that my shareholders would +consider themselves very much aggrieved if I sent in my resignation +without at least a year's warning."</p> + +<p>"A year," Lord Nunneley remarked reflectively. "Well, I should feel +quite satisfied if I thought that you were going to chuck it then. Don't +misunderstand me, Deane," he went on. "Please don't for a moment believe +that I am such an arrant snob as to mind having a son-in-law who's +engaged in business. I look upon yours as a jolly fine position, and I +can assure you that I have a sincere respect for a man who has attained +to it at your age. It is simply that I fancy you are carrying a much +heavier burden than you sometimes realize—simply for your own sake and +Olive's that I would like to hear of your taking things more easily."</p> + +<p>"I understand," Deane said,—"I quite understand. You are really very +kind, Lord Nunneley! Even if it is impossible for me to escape just for +the moment, I can assure you that I shall take the first opportunity of +doing so."</p> + +<p>The butler, with an apologetic bow, came softly across the room and +delivered a message. Lady Olive was going to a party, and would be glad +if Mr. Deane could come into the drawing-room at once.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>A MURDER</h3> + + +<p>Deane, with the air of one who was an <i>habitué</i> to the house, found his +way to the drawing-room, where Lady Olive was seated before the piano, +playing softly. She rose as he entered, and came to meet him.</p> + +<p>"I have barely a quarter of an hour, Stirling," she said. "It was too +absurd of you to be sitting there talking to father all the time. Come +and say nice things to me. Mother has gone upstairs to put on her +tiara."</p> + +<p>He held her at arm's length for a moment, looking at her. She was not +very tall, but she was graceful, and she carried herself as the women of +her family had done since the days of Elizabeth. Her face was a little +cold, except when she smiled, and her eyes were large and brilliant. +There was about her toilette and her features a sort of trim perfection, +which left no room for criticism. She was considered, amongst those whom +she called her friends, handsome rather than beautiful, and ambitious +rather than affectionate. Nevertheless, she blushed most becomingly when +Deane stooped to kiss her, and her face certainly seemed to lose for the +time its somewhat cold expression.</p> + +<p>"You are going to the Waldrons', I suppose?" he remarked. "You look +charming, dear."</p> + +<p>She made a little grimace. "It's too bad that you won't be there. +However, in a few days that will be all right. Now that our engagement +is announced, everyone will send you cards, of course, for everywhere I +go."</p> + +<p>He smiled a little doubtfully. "You won't expect too much of me in that +way, will you?" he asked. "My afternoons, for instance, are nearly +always occupied."</p> + +<p>"You will not find me exacting," she said, with a reassuring nod. "I +don't expect you to play the part of social butterfly at all, and +although we must be seen together sometimes, of course, I haven't the +least desire to keep you dangling at my heels. Tell me, what has father +been talking to you about?"</p> + +<p>"He has been urging me to leave the city," Deane said, "and buy an +estate."</p> + +<p>Lady Olive looked thoughtful. "That is very interesting," she said.</p> + +<p>"What have you to say about it?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It depends," she answered, "very much upon circumstances. I am not sure +that I approve of a man having nothing whatever to do. Besides, I have +no idea how rich you are, Stirling. I think I ought to warn you that I +am very extravagant."</p> + +<p>"I am delighted to hear it," he assured her. "I should dislike a wife +who wouldn't spend my money."</p> + +<p>They were sitting side by side upon a sofa, and she toyed with her fan +for several moments. Then she held out her right hand to him, and +allowed it to remain in his grasp. For Lady Olive, this was distinctly a +lover-like proceeding. She was not at all sure in her own mind whether +such a liberty was judicious, having been brought up always to consider +any display of affection as utterly <i>bourgeois</i>.</p> + +<p>"It seems a curious question to ask," she said thoughtfully; "but, after +all, it would be only affectation to pretend that I was not interested. +Tell me what your income is—about, Stirling?"</p> + +<p>"In round figures," he answered, "it is to-day, I should think, a trifle +over twenty-five thousand a year."</p> + +<p>She nodded approvingly, and yet without a great deal of enthusiasm. "We +ought to be able to make that do," she said. "Do you mean that it would +be as much as that if you gave up business? Perhaps you could give it up +partially, and keep a few directorships, or something of that sort?"</p> + +<p>"I could not give up my work at all," he told her, "for two years. I get +a very large income from my company, and I have an agreement with them. +Besides, my own interests are so woven up with theirs that I could not +run the risk of having anyone at the head of affairs in whom I had not +complete confidence."</p> + +<p>She nodded. "That is quite reasonable," she admitted. "You get holidays, +of course?"</p> + +<p>"Naturally," he answered.</p> + +<p>There was a short silence. Lady Olive was half inclined to wonder why, +having possessed himself of her hand, he made none of the other +overtures which she had always understood were usual. Deane, however, +was in no humor for love-making. She had represented to him, only a few +days ago, a part of his future life which was altogether inevitable, and +which he could easily come to find pleasant enough, but just now there +seemed to be a barrier between them. Notwithstanding Lord Nunneley's +kindness, and his wife's approval, he knew very well that it was not +only Stirling Deane who had been accepted as a suitor. It was the +millionaire, the man of great affairs, the man of untarnished +reputation. Dick Sinclair's threats were still ringing in his ears. He +somehow felt that he was not even playing the game to be sitting there, +holding the hand of this most exclusive young lady.</p> + +<p>"You are a little quiet to-night," she remarked.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," he answered, smiling, "I am a little shy."</p> + +<p>She was inclined to take his words seriously. There had been moments +before their engagement when he had certainly looked at her in a very +different manner, when she had realized that if she really did say "yes" +to him, she might find herself in danger of having to submit to +something a little more vigorous than the ordinary love-making she knew +anything of. She had even made up her mind, with a faint blush, to +submit to it,—had grown to expect it. Somehow, although she would have +found the admission distinctly humiliating, she was a trifle +disappointed.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," she whispered, looking down upon the carpet, "if you +need—if you really need encouragement."</p> + +<p>She felt a sudden thrill as his arm touched her, a sudden sense of his +enveloping presence. Then the door opened, and she withdrew herself +quickly. The Countess came into the room, a curious replica of her +daughter, except that her hair was gray, and the light in her eyes a +little steelier.</p> + +<p>"So sorry you are not going with us," she remarked to Deane. "Inquire if +the brougham is waiting," she continued, turning to her maid. "No, don't +bother, Stirling," she added, as he moved toward the door. "We are +really in plenty of time."</p> + +<p>Lord Nunneley came in, with the evening paper in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Is there any news, George?" his wife asked.</p> + +<p>He shook his head. "There never is," he answered. "The evening papers +aren't worth looking at now. Shocking murder, by the bye, at one of the +big hotels."</p> + +<p>Deane turned slowly round. "A murder?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>His host nodded as he lit a cigarette. "Fellow just arrived in the +country," he remarked,—"supposed to have had a lot of money in his +pocket. Found dead in his room at about seven o'clock to-night."</p> + +<p>"Do you remember the name of the hotel?" asked Deane.</p> + +<p>Lord Nunneley glanced at the paper which he still held in his hand. "The +Universal," he answered,—"that huge new place, you know, near the +Strand."</p> + +<p>"Was the murderer caught?" Deane asked.</p> + +<p>"Arrested just as he was leaving the hotel," Lord Nunneley +answered,—"at least they arrested the man they thought had done it. +Here's the paper, if you have a taste for horrors."</p> + +<p>Deane stood perfectly still for several minutes. Lady Olive was +buttoning her gloves, and did not notice him. Her mother was standing at +the further end of the room, helping herself to coffee. Lord Nunneley +alone was conscious of the change in his guest's expression.</p> + +<p>"Nothing wrong, I hope, Deane?" he asked. "You didn't know the fellow, +by any chance, did you?"</p> + +<p>Deane shook his head. He spoke very quietly and very distinctly. Except +that he was unusually pale, his manner showed no signs of emotion. And +yet, all the time he felt that he was being stifled! In his ears was the +singing of tragedy!</p> + +<p>"No!" he said. "I never heard of him in my life."</p> + +<p>He crossed the room to help Lady Olive with her cloak.</p> + +<p>"Stay and have a smoke with me," Lord Nunneley suggested. "I am going +round to the club in about an hour's time, and then I am going to pick +these people up at a ball somewhere."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind," Deane answered. "To tell you the truth, I have just +remembered a very important letter which I ought to have written. If you +will excuse me, I am going to hurry away at once. I should like to catch +my secretary before he leaves."</p> + +<p>Lord Nunneley nodded. "You will have to get him to give it up," he said +to his daughter. "Fancy having to write a business letter at ten o'clock +at night! Perfect slavery!"</p> + +<p>"Shall I see you to-morrow, Stirling?" Lady Olive asked, walking with +him into the hall.</p> + +<p>"We'll lunch, if you like," he said. "Or shall I come to tea? I shall +not be busy much after noon."</p> + +<p>"I am not quite sure what I have to do to-morrow," she answered, "but I +think that I would rather that you came here. We'll meet sometime, +anyhow. Good-bye!"</p> + +<p>He raised her fingers to his lips. "Enjoy yourself," he said.</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders. "Absolutely a duty dance," she murmured, +waving her hand. "I know that I shall be bored to death! By the bye, +Stirling, don't forget that in about three weeks' time I want you to +give a luncheon party at the Carlton to Julia and her husband, and some +of the others."</p> + +<p>"As soon as you like," Deane answered.</p> + +<p>"Julia won't be back till then," Lady Olive said. "Au revoir!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>A DEBT INCURRED</h3> + + +<p>A little stream of people came suddenly out from the dark, +forbidding-looking building into the sun-lit street. The tragedy was +over, and one by one they took their several ways, and were swallowed up +in the restless life of the great city. Yet there was not one of them +who did not carry in his face some trace of those hours of gloomy +excitement, some reminiscent shadow of the tragedy which had spread +itself out into passionate life before their eyes. The most callous was +conscious of a few minutes' unusual gravity. Some of the more +impressionable carried with them the memory of that hot, crowded room, +the air of tense excitement, the slowly spoken, solemn words, throughout +that day and many days to come.</p> + +<p>"And may the Lord have mercy upon your soul!"</p> + +<p>There was one man who issued from the building and made his way into the +street, who seemed altogether dazed. His lips were drawn tightly +together, his eyes were set in an unseeing stare. It was not until he +had walked fifty yards or so that he seemed even to realize where he +was. Then he came to a sudden standstill, and retraced his steps. +Standing outside the building which he had just quitted was a small +electric brougham, in front of which he stopped. He glanced at his +watch. It was a few minutes past one o'clock. All around was the great +stream of city men and clerks, hurrying to their mid-day meal. Once +more, as he stood with the handle in his hand, he looked back down the +dark passage, guarded by a single policeman, through which he had come a +moment or two before. The scene in the little courthouse spread itself +out with almost hideous precision before his reluctant eyes. He saw once +more what is certainly the greatest tragedy which the mechanical side of +our every-day life can offer to the seeker after sensations. He saw a +man stand up and listen to the words pronounced which are to deprive him +of life,—"And may the Lord have mercy upon your soul!"</p> + +<p>Deane turned to his chauffeur. "The Carlton!" he said, and stepped +inside.</p> + +<p>The brougham glided away, swung in and out of the traffic, and ran +smoothly along the Embankment, westward. Deane let down both the +windows, took off his hat and placed it on the seat opposite him. Then +he drew a small fine cambric handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped his +forehead.</p> + +<p>"God in Heaven!" he muttered to himself. "Twelve men, and not one of +them could see the truth. Twelve men, all fools!"</p> + +<p>He took a cigarette from a small gold case, and lit it with trembling +fingers. Then he leaned out of the carriage window. "Stop at the +Métropole, Richards," he ordered.</p> + +<p>The man was just swinging into Northumberland Avenue, and he pulled up +in front of the hotel. Deane went in hurriedly, and made his way to the +smoking-room, exchanging abrupt greetings with one or two acquaintances. +There he ordered and drank quickly a large brandy-and-soda. When he +retraced his steps, he felt more composed.</p> + +<p>"To the Carlton now," he ordered. "Hurry, please. I fancy that I am a +little late."</p> + +<p>In the foyer of the restaurant, Lady Olive came slowly forward to meet +him. She was beautifully dressed, and she wore her clothes with the air +of one who has been accustomed to be clad in silk and laces from the +days of her cradle. She had been a beauty for so long that no one +questioned her looks. It seemed even incredible that she was twenty-nine +years old. One realized that she was of the order of women who refuse to +grow old,—women without nerves, unruffled by emotions, women who come +smiling through the years, unconscious devotees of the essential +philosophy. To Deane she had never seemed more desirable than when she +greeted him with a slight uplifting of her eyebrows, and turned to +present him to another man and woman who were standing by.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus2" id="illus2"></a> +<img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>Lady Olive came slowly forward to meet him.</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"Mr. Deane is going to make the usual excuses, I know," she declared. +"Let us anticipate him, and say nothing about our wait. We won't even +ask whether it was a directors' meeting, or a message from the governor +of the Bank of England. Stirling, this is my cousin, Mary Elstree, and +her husband, Major Elstree—Mr. Deane! The others are somewhere about. +What a tiresome person Julia is! She has drifted away over there with a +lot of people whom I don't know. That is the worst of taking Julia +anywhere. I think that she would discover acquaintances in an A B C +shop. Do find her, Stirling. No, don't bother! Here she comes."</p> + +<p>A tall, dark woman detached herself from a neighboring crowd, and came +up to Deane with outstretched hands. "My dear man!" she exclaimed. "How +dare you look so cool and nonchalant! Do you realize that we are all +starving? We have been waiting here for you for more than half an hour."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," answered Deane. "You see, you people here have taken to +lunching so early nowadays. You make it hard for a man to get through +any work at all in the city."</p> + +<p>"Early lunches have come in with the simpler life," Julia Raynham +declared. "One has so many more hours to look forward to dinner, and so +much more appetite when it comes. I suppose we must forgive you," she +went on. "At any rate, you are better than my husband, who won't come +out to lunch at all. He says that all restaurant food is poisonous, and +I can't drag him away from the club. Why a man should put his digestion +before our society, I can't imagine. I hope you will never be so +ungallant, Mr. Deane. Shall we go in, Olive?"</p> + +<p>"If you will excuse me for one moment," Deane said, passing on ahead, "I +will just see that the table is all right. I telephoned to Gustave, but +even a <i>maître d'hôtel</i> forgets sometimes."</p> + +<p>He looked into the room, and nodded to the presiding genius who came +hurrying up. The table was there, duly reserved, and covered with the +dark red roses which he had ordered. He turned to Mrs. Elstree and the +others who were following her.</p> + +<p>"I think we can go in," he said. "I hope you people have not lost all +your appetites waiting for me."</p> + +<p>Lady Olive looked at him a little curiously as she took the seat at his +left, hers by unspoken consent as his fiancée. "My dear Stirling," she +whispered, "have you had a very trying morning? You look somehow as +though you had been worried."</p> + +<p>He hesitated. "Well," he answered, "scarcely that, perhaps. I had rather +a bad hour or so. Things don't go always our way, you know, in the city, +even when one is most prosperous."</p> + +<p>"You are foolish to worry," she said calmly. "Half the people in the +world spoil their lives by giving way to that sort of thing. I should +have thought that your temperament would have saved you from that."</p> + +<p>Deane smiled. "Remember," he said, "that I have been in other places +when I might have been with you, and excuse me."</p> + +<p>"You are much too gallant," she said, with a little laugh, "to argue +with seriously."</p> + +<p>"By the bye," Major Elstree asked, "has anyone seen a special edition? I +wonder if the Rowan case is finished."</p> + +<p>Deane set down the wineglass which he had just raised to his lips. "The +verdict was given just as I left the city," he answered. "Rowan was +found guilty!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>AN IMPERIOUS DEMAND</h3> + + +<p>There was a little murmur of interest. On the whole, although the result +of the trial had seemed fairly certain, everyone was surprised.</p> + +<p>"Guilty of murder or manslaughter?" Major Elstree asked.</p> + +<p>"Of murder," answered Deane. "There was not even a recommendation to +mercy."</p> + +<p>Lady Olive looked reproachfully at him. "My dear Stirling, you really +shouldn't have told us at luncheon time. If I hadn't been so very +hungry, I am sure it would have taken my appetite away. He was such a +good-looking fellow, and he has been so brave all through the trial."</p> + +<p>"Brave or callous, do you think?" Major Elstree asked.</p> + +<p>"Brave, I think," Julia Raynham declared, leaning forward in her place. +"I went to the trial the first day. He followed every question that was +asked, and he was always making suggestions to his solicitor. I think +when one understands like that, when one's intellect is working all the +time, that you cannot call it callousness."</p> + +<p>"I agree with you," Lady Olive declared. "I was there myself, and except +that he looked so ill, he seemed quite indifferent, and absolutely free +from nervousness. Yet I am quite sure that he realized his position. My +dear Stirling, how thoughtful of you to remember the <i>Homard +Americaine</i>. I adore hot lobster, don't you, Julia?"</p> + +<p>"Delicious!" Julia murmured.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," Major Elstree said reflectively, "what must be the state of +mind of a man who has gone through a trial lasting four or five days, +and suddenly realizes that it is over and finished, and that he has +lost. This poor fellow, for instance. When he woke up this morning, he +perhaps hoped to be free to-night,—things went altogether his way +yesterday. And instead of being free, he has been taken back to his +cell, and knows—even at this minute he is realizing—that he will never +leave it again until he leaves it to die. Personally," he continued, "I +think that the period of time between the pronouncement of a sentence +and its execution ought to be swept away. I cannot imagine anything more +horrible, especially to a man who has to spend the long nights alone +with that one thought racking his brain!"</p> + +<p>Lady Olive laid down her fork. "My dear Harry," she declared, "do be a +little more considerate. How are we to enjoy our luncheon if we think of +that poor man?"</p> + +<p>Major Elstree bowed across the table. "I forgot," he said. "Let us enjoy +our luncheon, by all means. At the same time, I am going to drink my +first glass of wine to a reprieve. We won't discuss the question of +whether he deserves it or not. We will talk instead, if you like, of +directoire gowns, and Flying Star's chance for the gold cup. But—I +drink my toast."</p> + +<p>"You are very quiet, Stirling," Lady Olive murmured to the man who sat +by her side.</p> + +<p>Deane smiled at her. "I am afraid that sometimes when I come away from a +maze of figures, my brain, or at any rate my tongue, is not so nimble as +it should be. I'll keep pace with you all presently."</p> + +<p>A frock-coated, white-waistcoated <i>maître d'hôtel</i> came smiling up and +addressed him confidentially. "Mr. Deane," he said, "you are wanted for +a moment upon the telephone."</p> + +<p>"You are sure that it is I who am wanted?" Deane asked, a little +doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Quite sure, sir," the man replied. "The inquiry was for Mr. Stirling +Deane."</p> + +<p>Deane rose to his feet. "You will excuse me?" he begged, turning to his +guests. "I suppose they have found out at the office that I am here, and +they have probably something to say to me."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, as he left the room and crossed the hall Deane was +conscious of feeling more than a little puzzled. He was quite certain +that he had not told a soul at the office of the Incorporated Gold-Mines +Association, over which he presided, that he was lunching at the +Carlton. He was equally certain that he had not told anyone else. He +took up the receiver of the instrument with some curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" was the reply.</p> + +<p>"I am Stirling Deane," Deane said. "Who are you, and what do you want +with me? Is it the office?"</p> + +<p>"No!" was the reply, in a voice wholly unfamiliar to him. "It is not the +office, Mr. Deane. It is someone with news for you."</p> + +<p>"News?" Deane repeated. "I should like to know who you are first, and to +hear your news afterwards."</p> + +<p>"Who I am is of no consequence," was the reply. "My news is that Basil +Rowan has been found guilty, and has been sentenced to be hanged. The +verdict has just been pronounced."</p> + +<p>The receiver nearly fell from Deane's fingers. He restrained himself, +however, with an effort. "Well," he said, "what is that to you or to +me?"</p> + +<p>"That is a matter which we will not discuss over the telephone," was the +calm reply. "I rang you up to tell you this because I thought it was +well that you should know quickly. I ask you now what you are going to +do."</p> + +<p>Deane's was the face of a strong man—a man who scarcely knew the +meaning of the word "nerves." Yet he felt himself struggling with a +sudden sense of being stifled. Something seemed to be hammering at his +brain. His breath was coming in little sobs. He answered this mysterious +voice almost incoherently.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? How can it concern me? Tell me who you are at once," +he said.</p> + +<p>"It does not matter who I am," was the reply. "You have no time to think +about that. What you want to realize is that Basil Rowan has been found +guilty, and that he will be hanged within a fortnight, unless—"</p> + +<p>"Unless what?" Deane gasped.</p> + +<p>"Unless someone intervenes," was the quiet answer.</p> + +<p>"Who could intervene?" he demanded hoarsely. "How can anyone intervene?"</p> + +<p>"You know," was the quiet answer.</p> + +<p>Deane staggered out of the telephone box with those last words ringing +in his ears. He felt dazed, scarcely master of himself. The healthy +color seemed to have been drawn from his cheeks, as he turned +mechanically back toward the restaurant. Half-way there, however, he +paused. For the moment, he felt it impossible to face his guests. He +turned into the little smoking-room and sat down. The place was empty. +Even the little bar was deserted. He sat in one of the green leather +chairs, his hands clutching the cushioned arms, his eyes fixed steadily +upon the wall. Slowly it seemed to fall away—to crumble into +nothingness—before his rigid gaze. Again he saw the sombre-looking +courthouse, the judge upon the bench, his sphinx-like face set in an +attitude of cold attention. He saw the barristers, with their wigs and +gowns, the few distinguished strangers upon the bench, the crowd of +sightseers behind the barriers. And in the centre of it all—Basil +Rowan, his pale face and drawn features standing out vividly against the +gloomy background. It was no ordinary trial, this. The subtle, dramatic +excitement, which only a question of life or death seems to generate, +was throbbing through the dreary court. It was only, comparatively +speaking, a few days ago that the man who stood there now waiting to +hear his doom had found his way down into the city, and sat in his +office, and made his passionate appeal. Deane's hands gripped the sides +of the chair, and his lips moved. He told himself, as he had told +himself a hundred times before, that this act was none of his doing, +that not a single word of his had suggested or approved of it. He had +spoken of arguments, of influence. Was it any responsibility of his that +the man who had listened had gone further—had chosen to gamble instead +with life and death? Deane went back through that conversation, word by +word. No, he was guiltless! He had not suggested violence! He even told +himself that he would not have approved of it. And yet the weight upon +his heart was not lightened. The little picture was still there, +reproduced with almost photographic exactness. Was it his fancy, or had +the trembling man's eyes really turned towards him—had his white lips +really framed that passionate, unspoken appeal which seemed to ring in +his ears?</p> + +<p>Deane rose to his feet with a little stifled cry. He seemed to +understand now how men who were left alone with their thoughts might +find madness.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>LOVE OR INTEREST?</h3> + + +<p>Deane found his little party drinking their coffee in the palm lounge. +Lady Olive greeted him with upraised eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"My dear Stirling!" she exclaimed. "Have you been telephoning to the +other end of the world?"</p> + +<p>"I am so sorry," he answered, taking the vacant chair by her side. "I +came away from the office feeling that I had forgotten something, and it +took me quite a long time to straighten things out. Tell me, what are +you all going to do this afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"We are going down to Ranelagh," said Lady Olive. "There is some tennis, +and Dicky is playing polo in the regimental finals. Don't you think that +you could take an hour or so off, and come down with us? You really look +as though you needed some fresh air."</p> + +<p>Deane shook his head. "Nothing in the world," he declared, "is more +impossible. I have an appointment in the city at half-past three, and +another at four. After that I have at least a hundred letters to +dictate."</p> + +<p>"I am beginning to discover," Lady Olive remarked, with an air of +resignation, "that there are disadvantages in being engaged to a city +man."</p> + +<p>Deane smiled. "Let us hope," said he, "that after you are married you +will still regard the situation in the same light. Your friend Julia, +for instance, declares that she would never have married anyone who was +not kept away from home at regular intervals."</p> + +<p>Lady Olive leaned a little towards him. After all, he had been very +nice. The Elstrees had found him delightful, and there was no man in the +lounge half so good-looking. She decided to say something charming.</p> + +<p>"Julia," she whispered, "was never in love with her husband, even before +she married him."</p> + +<p>"And you?" Deane murmured.</p> + +<p>She laughed at him and looked away, but he was suddenly insistent, +taking her hand, and forcing her to turn again towards him.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," he said quietly, "do you really care for me, Olive? Oh! I +know you care enough to justify you in marrying me, but I mean something +different. I mean do you really care in the great fashion, you know, +like the people one reads of,—like Iseult, and Amy Robsart, and those +others?"</p> + +<p>She looked at him as though he were speaking some foreign language. The +earnestness in his face was unmistakable. She answered him with a +perplexed little frown upon her forehead. "Ah, I wonder!" she murmured. +"What a very strange question to ask me, Stirling, just now! Frankly, I +don't know. I can only tell you that there is no other man. You are +quite alone."</p> + +<p>The others were all discussing some subject of kindred interest. Deane +felt curiously prompted to continue his questioning. His engagement had +been such a very matter-of-fact affair. To a certain extent it was +understood that he was marrying for position, and she for wealth. And +yet in all their conversations they had discreetly concealed the fact. +They had told each other that they cared, if not with passion, at least +in the most approved manner. There had been no suggestion in their many +tête-à-têtes that they were about to embark upon a <i>mariage de +convenance</i>.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," Deane persisted, "if things should go wrong with me, or if +you had met me simply as a struggler, with my feet upon the early rungs +of the ladder,—tell me, could you have cared then, do you think?"</p> + +<p>She looked at him curiously. There was something in his face which +compelled the truth. "I do not know," she said. "Let me think."</p> + +<p>"Think, by all means," he continued. "Remember that I was introduced to +you, even, as one of the youngest millionaires. Forgive me if I seem +egotistical, but I have a fancy to put things plainly. There is a +glamour about wealth. I came to you with that glamour about my name. I +am rich, of course, and wealth means power. How much of your affection, +Olive, came out to the man, and how much to the millionaire?"</p> + +<p>"You want me to give you a perfectly honest answer?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Absolutely," he assured her. "Don't be afraid of hurting my vanity. I +want nothing but the truth."</p> + +<p>"At first, then," she told him, "nothing to the man, and everything to +the millionaire. This afternoon," she continued, "I rather fancy that +the man has the larger share. You are quite a fascinating person, +Stirling, when you choose to make yourself agreeable."</p> + +<p>"You can't accuse me," he remarked, "of making any special efforts in +that direction to-day."</p> + +<p>"No!" she answered. "You were rather quiet, but still you were yourself. +Personally, I am beginning to find something very attractive about a +silent man. You speak quite often enough, and what you say is to the +point. It seems always to be the pronouncement of the man who knows. You +have what Julia calls an air of reserved strength about you, which I +fancy that my sex finds a little attractive. Tell me, why all this +questioning?"</p> + +<p>Deane looked away—through the cluster of palms into the little +smoking-room from which he had issued a few minutes before.</p> + +<p>"Even the houses," he said, "which according to the injunctions of +Scripture are built upon a rock, are liable to destruction by +earthquakes. So, even, the strongest of us in the city have always the +hundredth chance working in the world against us. The most amazing +collapses have taken place. I was really wondering what would +happen—how greatly it would affect you—if my riches were to vanish +into thin air."</p> + +<p>"What an unpractical person you are this afternoon!" she murmured, +looking at him curiously. "Supposing I were to sit here and worry about +the fit of the dress which Madame Oliver is sending me home this +afternoon for the ball to-night. I could make myself miserable in five +minutes without the shadow of a reason."</p> + +<p>"Madame Oliver," he declared, "would deserve bankruptcy if she failed to +fit a figure like yours."</p> + +<p>Lady Olive laughed. "Really," she said, "you are becoming quite a +courtier."</p> + +<p>"Dear people," Julia Raynham murmured, leaning over, "if we may bring +you back to the mundane world, everybody else is dying to start for +Ranelagh."</p> + +<p>Lady Olive made a little grimace, and rose to her feet at once. +"Stirling and I have only been boring one another because you all seemed +so occupied," she declared. "Ranelagh, by all means. It is quite time we +made a move."</p> + +<p>They made their way toward the Pall Mall entrance of the restaurant. +Lady Olive fell back once more with Deane.</p> + +<p>"It's such a nuisance about this wretched dinner to-night," she said. "I +think it was very bad taste indeed of the Duchess to ask us without you. +You won't forget to come in and see me for half-an-hour before we go on +to the ball? I shall be in my room at eleven o'clock punctually, and I +will arrange so that I can take you on to Amberley House."</p> + +<p>He bowed. "I shall be with you."</p> + +<p>"Where are you dining?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"At the club, most likely. I never dine out on Wednesdays, if I can help +it. We are always so busy. I shall have a quiet, comfortable evening."</p> + +<p>"Au revoir, then!" she said, stepping into one of the two automobiles +which were waiting.</p> + +<p>Deane made his adieux to the rest of the party and watched them drive +off. Then he called a hansom.</p> + +<p>"Messrs. Hardaway and Sons, Bedford Row," he told the man. "Drive as +quickly as you can."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>AN AWFUL RESPONSIBILITY</h3> + + +<p>John Hardaway, although he was a solicitor in a very busy practice, did +not keep his friend waiting for a moment. "Come in, Deane, old chap," he +said. "Is this business or friendship?"</p> + +<p>"Mostly business," declared Deane.</p> + +<p>Hardaway glanced at the clock. "Twelve minutes, precisely," he said. +"Fire away, there's a good fellow. You are not going to give me the +affairs of the Incorporated Gold-Mines Association to look after, I +suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Not I," Deane answered. "They need a more subtle brain than yours, I am +afraid. I have come to see you about the other affair."</p> + +<p>The lawyer nodded. "You heard the result?" he asked. "We did what we +could."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," Deane answered. "The only thing is that you did not do +enough. I am perfectly convinced, Hardaway, that that man did not go +there with the intention of murdering Sinclair."</p> + +<p>"The evidence," Hardaway remarked, "was exceedingly awkward."</p> + +<p>"Do you think," Deane asked, "that there is any chance of a reprieve?"</p> + +<p>"As things stand at present," said Hardaway, "I am afraid not."</p> + +<p>Deane for the first time sat down. With frowning face, he seemed to be +engaged in a deliberate study of the pattern of the carpet. "Hardaway," +he said finally, "I want to ask you a question in criminal law."</p> + +<p>The lawyer laughed dryly. "Not on your own account, I hope?"</p> + +<p>"You can call it curiosity, or whatever you like," Deane answered. "The +only point is that I want you to answer me a question, and forget that I +have ever asked it you. Your lawyer is like your confessor, isn't +he—your lawyer and your doctor?"</p> + +<p>"He should be," Hardaway answered gravely.</p> + +<p>"Then here goes," Deane said. "I put a case to you. I mention no names. +You can imagine, if you like, that I am writing a novel. A man is tried +for murder, and he is sentenced to be hanged. All the time there has +been watching this case, listening to every word of the evidence, a +person who knows quite as much of it as the prisoner himself,—someone +who, if it had been possible, could have gone into the witness box and +could very likely have induced the jury to have reduced the charge from +murder to manslaughter. Never mind the reasons which made that man hold +his tongue. Consider only the fact that he did hold his peace, believing +in his heart that it was not possible, on the evidence which was +submitted, for the man to be sentenced. As it happened, the case for the +prosecution was worked up with almost diabolical cleverness, and the +prisoner was found guilty—guilty of murder. He was sentenced to be +hanged. What can this person do to save his life? The trial is closed. +It is too late for him to offer himself as a witness."</p> + +<p>Hardaway nodded. "I understand," he said. "The procedure is very simple. +He should go to the solicitors for the defence, and they will +communicate with the Home Secretary."</p> + +<p>"The case cannot be reopened?" Deane asked.</p> + +<p>"No!" answered Hardaway, with a shake of the head. "Our criminal law has +many anomalies. The only thing that could happen in the prisoner's favor +would be that if this favorable evidence were convincing enough, the +prisoner might be granted a free pardon, and the facts made known +through the Press. Anything more I can tell you?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," Deane answered, rising. "Many thanks, old fellow. You have +told me just what I want to know."</p> + +<p>"Six-and-eightpence, please," Hardaway remarked, holding out his hand.</p> + +<p>Deane laughed, and shook his head. "I sha'n't pay," he declared. "You +can run it in with the other account, or I'll stand you a dinner when +and where you please,—a dinner and a box at the Alhambra, if you like."</p> + +<p>Hardaway smiled. "We can't run our office on such clients as you," he +remarked, pressing the bell.</p> + +<p>"You should never try to fleece your friends," Deane said.</p> + +<p>"Referring for one moment to the other affair—" began Hardaway.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"The only real chance of a reprieve that I can see," Hardaway continued, +"is on account of the fellow's health. I believe he is really very much +worse than he appears, and I fancy that if we had a medical examination +it would give us at least a chance. The trouble is that he really seems +quite indifferent. Are you thinking of trying to see him, Deane?"</p> + +<p>Deane shook his head. "No!" he said. "I am afraid I must not do that. +There are reasons why I dare not let my name be associated in any way +with this affair. They may come out later on, but just at present I +would rather not tell even you what they are. By the bye, has anyone +representing the dead man turned up at all—I mean has anyone claimed +his effects?"</p> + +<p>"No one," the lawyer answered. "From what I can learn they are very +insignificant."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. "Can I rely upon you," he asked, "to let me know at once +if anyone should come forward to claim them?"</p> + +<p>"By all means," Hardaway answered.</p> + +<p>Deane went out into the street, and stood there for a few moments a +little aimlessly. Then he called a cab and was driven to his offices, a +great block of buildings like a bank, situated in a small court off +Throgmorton Street. He passed through the outer offices slowly, asking +several questions, and shaking hands with one or two acquaintances. When +at last he reached the inner room, his own sanctum, he turned out his +secretary ruthlessly, and locked the door. He sat in his leather chair +in front of the open table, covered with letters and books of reference. +It was before this table that he had built up the fortunes of the great +corporation at whose head he was. He sat there now, erect in his chair, +with his hands stretched out on the table before him, and his eyes +looking through the frosted panes of glass opposite. Was there any +compromise, he asked himself,—any possible compromise? Again he was +looking into the gloomy court. Again he saw the white face of the man +who so short a time ago had sat in this very room, only a few feet away, +and had begged so hard for his chance! The whole scene came flashing +back to Deane as he sat there. How much of blame, after all, was his? He +had not suggested violence. He refused even to admit that it had entered +into his head. Yet he had known what manner of men these two were! He +had known, and their meeting had been all his making! Never in this +world would he be able to escape from the responsibility of it,—never +in this world would he be able to hear those awful words without a sense +of real and personal guilt,—"And may the Lord have mercy upon your +soul!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>WINIFRED ROWAN</h3> + + +<p>The clerk who brought in the little slip of paper was both timid and +apologetic. He felt himself between two fires. The young lady outside +had been a little more than insistent. The man into whose presence he +had come was one who never forgave a mistake.</p> + +<p>"You will pardon me, sir," he said. "I hope that I have not done wrong. +The young lady outside positively declined to go away until she had seen +you. I thought that I had better at least bring you in her name. I +remembered that a few weeks ago you saw a gentleman of the same name, +although it was one of your busiest mornings."</p> + +<p>Deane held out his hand, frowning. "A young lady," he remarked shortly. +"Well?"</p> + +<p>He took the little slip of paper into his hands, and read—<i>Winifred +Rowan</i>. He looked up into the clerk's impassive face, and back again at +the slip of paper. "The young lady is waiting outside?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"She is outside, sir," the clerk answered. "I explained to her that you +were not in the habit of seeing any callers except by appointment, and I +begged her to write and fix a time, if she really had business with you. +She declared, however, that the matter was an urgent one. Mr. Sawday and +I both heard what she had to say, sir, and we thought it best that I +should bring you in her name."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded slowly. "I daresay you were right, Gray," he said. "Since +the young lady is so persistent, you had better show her in. See that I +am not disturbed again this afternoon, however. I have a good deal to +do."</p> + +<p>The clerk departed with a great weight off his mind. It was obvious that +he had done the right thing. He left the door ajar, and Deane sat with +his hands clenching the sides of his luxuriously padded writing chair. +Winifred Rowan! It was a relative, then,—most likely the sister of whom +he had spoken. What was he to say or do? How much was he to admit? +Perhaps she had brought him a message. Perhaps she could tell him the +one thing which he was on fire to know. Winifred Rowan! Half +unconsciously he uttered the name aloud. What sort of a woman would she +be, or girl, or child? He had no knowledge of Rowan save as a fellow +adventurer, a seeker after fortune in a strange land, a brave man, +willing always to take his life into his hands if the goal were worthy. +Perhaps it might be that she had been with him. Perhaps she was bringing +a message.</p> + +<p>He heard the murmur of voices outside. The door was pushed open. The +clerk stood on one side.</p> + +<p>"This is the young lady, sir," he announced,—"Miss Winifred Rowan."</p> + +<p>Deane rose for a moment to his feet. The clerk, with a little +deferential movement, closed the door and departed. They were alone in +the room together. Deane, whose self-control was one of the personal +characteristics which had counted for something in his rapid access to +prosperity, felt a nerveless exclamation break from his lips. The girl +who came so slowly into the room seemed so perfectly to represent what +Rowan himself might have become. She was an idealized likeness of the +man by whose side he had fought and suffered and rejoiced, the man who +only a few weeks ago had stood in her place and made his desperate +appeal,—an idealized likeness, perhaps, in more ways than one. She was +younger, and the stress of life had only lately set its mark upon her. +She was fair, as he was fair, with gray-blue eyes, brown hair, and +quivering lips, a figure slim and yet pliant, a manner, even in silence, +appealing,—enticing. Deane felt himself curiously moved at the sight of +her. Then he remembered suddenly how great was his need of self-control. +She was the sister of this man who lay under sentence of death. Perhaps +she had come to plead for his help. He must be careful. All the time he +must be careful!</p> + +<p>"You wish to see me?" he asked, a little brusquely. "I am Stirling +Deane. Will you take a chair, and tell me in as few words as you can +what you want?"</p> + +<p>She ignored his gesture of invitation. She came on until she had reached +the table before which he was seated. Then she leaned across, and the +light of her eyes, the very insistence of her presence, seemed like +things from which no escape was possible.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Deane," she said, "I am Basil Rowan's sister. I have come from the +Old Bailey prison. I have come," she added, with faltering voice, and a +sudden new terror in her face, "from the condemned cell."</p> + +<p>Deane had a reserve stock of courage to draw upon, and he drew upon it +freely. He looked at her with upraised eyebrows. "You have come to me," +he repeated. "Why?"</p> + +<p>"First of all, then," she answered, "I will tell you why."</p> + +<p>"I think," he interrupted, "that you had better take a seat."</p> + +<p>She seemed, indeed, in need of some support. She sank into the chair +which he had indicated. It was close to his side, and yet placed so that +the light which fell upon her face left him in the shadow.</p> + +<p>"You have come from your brother," he said. "Do I understand that he +sent you—that he knew you were coming to me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" she answered. "He told me to be very careful, to be sure that no +one else knew, and never to mention your name, but I have come at his +bidding."</p> + +<p>"Very well," Deane said, "I shall be glad to hear your message."</p> + +<p>"He gave me no explanation," she said. "He allowed me to ask for none. +He told me to come to you and say this. There is no one," she asked, in +a lower tone, looking nervously around, "who could possibly overhear +us?"</p> + +<p>"Not a soul."</p> + +<p>"He told me to say," she continued, leaning forward, and with her eyes +suddenly a little distended, "that he had no difficulty in finding the +man of whom you two had spoken—the man whom you used to call Bully +Sinclair. He spent the evening with him, drank with him, went back to +his hotel by invitation. Then he tried very carefully to open up +negotiations. Sinclair became at once suspicious. He was very violent, +and declined to discuss the matter at all. He swore all the time that he +had been robbed, and that he was going to have his revenge. My brother +tried to reason with him, and in the end they quarrelled. It was +Sinclair who struck Basil. My brother only returned the blow. And then +he told me to say that before he could search him, before he could +search the room, he found that the man was dead."</p> + +<p>"Anything else?" Deane asked.</p> + +<p>"He told me to say that any papers which the man Sinclair might have had +must be in the room among his effects, which have all been put together, +and are still there, locked up, waiting for someone to come and claim +them. He told me to say that he had done his best, and that whatever the +consequences might be he was ready to face them. If you cared to run +risks, the number of the room at the Universal Hotel is 27. It is locked +and guarded, but there might be ways. That is what he said."</p> + +<p>Deane leaned a little forward across the table. "But of himself?" he +demanded. "Did he say nothing of himself?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head. "It is wonderful," she said, "but he never thinks of +himself. He is more composed, more cheerful, than when I bade him +good-night at Southampton, the day he left home. He made me promise that +I would tell you these things first, before I uttered a word on my own +account. I have kept my promise. You understand what I have told you?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly," Deane answered.</p> + +<p>"Then I am going to speak to you now on my own account," she said, +raising her eyes to his. "Mr. Deane, I do not pretend to be a clever +person, but one thing is perfectly clear to me. Basil entered into this +adventure for your sake. Your name was never mentioned in the trial, and +they all seem to have believed that it was to rob Sinclair, and for +nothing else, that Basil went there that night. Mr. Deane, I don't +believe it. His quarrel with Sinclair, and its awful termination, was an +accident. You must come forward and say that he went there to serve you, +and not for purposes of robbery. It is for you to save his life. You can +do it, and he is my only brother."</p> + +<p>Deane's eyebrows came a little closer together. The girl who looked at +him wondered no more at the hopeless way in which her brother had spoken +of this man. His face was as though it were carved out of a stone.</p> + +<p>"Miss Rowan," he said, "if there is anything which I can do for your +brother, I will do it, for the sake of the days when we lived together, +and when we were so near the very heart of life and death. But I tell +you frankly that I see very little chance of successful intervention on +my part. It takes a good deal in this country to stay the arm of the +law, and your brother has grievously offended against it."</p> + +<p>She struck the table before which he sat, with the palm of her hand. "If +he did," she cried, "it was for your sake! I am sure of it! He went to +do your bidding, and you must save him!"</p> + +<p>"May I ask," said Deane, "why you are so sure that he went to do my +bidding?"</p> + +<p>"Yes! Ask, if you will, and I will answer you. I know it because this +was the real point of all his message to you. This was what I had to +say. This is really why I have come. The document—the document, +mind,—he said no more, but he told me to make this very clear to +you—the document is in a worn leather case, sewn inside the breast +pocket of the coat Sinclair was wearing when he died."</p> + +<p>Deane drew a little breath. "Young lady," he said, "it seems to me that +you have been unnecessarily prolix. Your brother sent you here to tell +me this?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"He did not send you here," Deane continued, "to beg for help—to waste +my time in purposeless recriminations?"</p> + +<p>"No!" she answered faintly.</p> + +<p>"He knew very well," Deane continued, "that no mortal man can help him. +The trial is over and the case is lost. The only thing to work for now +is a reprieve."</p> + +<p>"But that is not what I want," she interrupted. "He must be pardoned!"</p> + +<p>"That," answered Deane, "is impossible. Neither I nor anyone breathing +can work miracles."</p> + +<p>She leaned towards him with accusing eyes. "But it was you," she +declared,—"it was you for whom he undertook this enterprise!"</p> + +<p>Deane shrugged his shoulders. "My dear young lady," he said, "you are +mistaken. I cannot explain to you yet the full significance of those +various messages which you have brought me from your brother, but +believe me, what he did, he did knowing well the risks he undertook, and +without any thought or hope of aid from me if he should fail. I will be +quite honest with you, if you like. I will tell you the exact truth. +Your brother and Sinclair were once friends. Sinclair and I were always +enemies. There was a little matter of business open between us, and I +thought that your brother might very well arrange it. I had no idea of +his quarrelling with Sinclair. I did not encourage him to do so in any +way."</p> + +<p>"You sent him there," she persisted doggedly.</p> + +<p>"I send messengers to every part of the world," Deane answered, "but I +do not incite them to enter into murderous quarrels with the people whom +they go to see. I will do what I can for your brother, but it must be in +my own way."</p> + +<p>"You will be able at least to save him from—from—"</p> + +<p>Deane held out his hand. "Of course," he answered. "You need not think +about that. His health alone would be sufficient to put that out of the +question. What I can do for him, I will. I promise you that."</p> + +<p>The girl rose up, and held out her hands a little piteously. "Remember," +she begged, "I have no one else to go to, no other hope but in you. If I +lose Basil, I shall be alone in the world!"</p> + +<p>The tears were in her eyes. Every line of her face, every feature, +seemed to be pleading with him. Deane led her to the door himself. His +tone was unusually kind.</p> + +<p>"I will do my best," he promised once more.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>AT THE THEATRE</h3> + + +<p>The door had barely closed upon his visitor when Deane was back once +more in the throes of business, answering questions, giving quotations, +receiving offers. The telephone was reconnected, and rang out its +impatient summons every few seconds. He signed half-a-dozen drafts, +deputed an understudy to receive some of his visitors who were weary of +waiting, and dictated several important letters. When once more the +pressure had abated, and the telephone had ceased to ring, he leaned +back in his chair with a little exclamation of relief. The visit of +Rowan's sister, and her passionate appeal, had unnerved him for a +moment. He found himself trying to recall her last words, even at the +moment when he realized that she was still in the room, sitting at a +distant corner.</p> + +<p>"Miss Rowan!" he exclaimed. "Why, I thought that you had left!"</p> + +<p>"I went as far as the outer office," she said apologetically, "and then +I slipped back again. You were so busy that I did not like to +interrupt."</p> + +<p>Deane rose to his feet,—he was a little cramped from long sitting. He +lowered the blind and turned on the electric light, walking around the +room, and casually touching the door to see that it was closely shut. +Then he came back to his place, and leaned over once more toward the +girl. "Why have you come back?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"To ask you a question," she answered.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Basil went on your behalf to see this man, Sinclair," she said. "He had +a commission from you, had he not, and he failed?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" Deane said. "He failed!"</p> + +<p>"It was to make an offer for some document, was it not?"</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. "Yes!" he said. "It was."</p> + +<p>"You are doing your best for Basil," she said, her voice trembling a +little. "You paid for his defence, I know. You have promised that you +will do all that you can, even now. I thought, perhaps, I might be able +to do something in return. Why couldn't I get this paper for you?"</p> + +<p>He looked at her steadily for several moments. "You could," he answered, +"if you had the pluck."</p> + +<p>"Tell me how?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"You are his sister," he said. "Presumably you are interested in his +defence. The details of the struggle between those two are, of course, +important. It makes all the difference between manslaughter and murder +if a weight, for instance, be held in the hand or thrown. You know the +lawyers who defended him?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," she answered. "Go on."</p> + +<p>"If they apply to the proper authorities," he continued, "they can +obtain an order to re-examine the apartments in the Universal Hotel in +which the struggle took place. No doubt you also could find your way +there. Supposing I tell you the truth. Supposing I admit that your +brother did take upon himself a desperate enterprise, and that that +enterprise was to recover from this man Sinclair, by purchase or guile, +or any means which suggested themselves to him, the pocket-book of which +you have brought me news. Remember I commit myself to nothing. I make no +definite statement. I simply tell you that it may have been so."</p> + +<p>"It was," she said firmly. "You and I know that. Well?"</p> + +<p>"You are his sister," Deane said, "and you have exceptional facilities. +If you could gain possession of that pocket-book, you would be doing me +a service which I should find it hard indeed to repay."</p> + +<p>She rose to her feet. "Very well," she said, "it shall be done. I +promise you that it shall be done."</p> + +<p>For the first time, when he saw her standing up, and realized how frail +a creature she really was, a wave of pity swept away his own predominant +sense of self-interest.</p> + +<p>"But you are not strong enough for such work as this," he declared. +"Better let things drift. I can take care of myself."</p> + +<p>She shook her head. "I have made up my mind," she said. "I am going to +make my effort, whatever happens."</p> + +<p>"You will remember," he said, "that my name must never pass your lips. +No, don't look at me like that!" he added quickly. "Don't think of me as +a coward, or an utterly selfish person! I am here for what I represent. +Welfare in this concern or business undertaking—call it what you +like—doesn't mean only ruin or wealth for me. There are hundreds of us, +hundreds who are dependent upon the reins I hold. It isn't for myself so +much that I care. Try and believe that, will you?"</p> + +<p>She looked into his eyes. "I will," she murmured. "I will believe +everything, but you must save Basil."</p> + +<p>"Whether you bring me the pocket-book or not," he answered, "I shall +assuredly do all that a man can do for him."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>For the rest of the day, Stirling Deane was his normal self. He +transacted business with his usual acumen. He received his callers, and +went through the ordinary routine of his position, with no indication of +any mental disturbance. He had, indeed, little time to spare for +thought. At half-past six he was whirled away westward in his electric +brougham, changed his clothes, dined hurriedly in his room, and at a +quarter to nine was in the stalls of the St. James' Theatre, sitting +between Lady Olive and her mother. The mechanical part of the day's +arrangements he had found it easy enough to carry out, but to keep his +thoughts engrossed upon his surroundings was a sheer impossibility. He +was not even conscious when the curtain went down, until he found Lady +Olive's eyes fixed curiously upon him.</p> + +<p>"Stirling," she said, "I don't think I like you when you have been at +the office all day. Tell me, what can there be about this money-making +so engrossing that you carry it about with you after you have finished +your work, like a shadow?"</p> + +<p>He was at once duly apologetic. "My dear Olive," he said, "if I was +<i>distrait</i> for a moment, please forgive me. Consider. It is not my +occupation alone which is engrossing. Supposing, for instance, that I +were a politician. Don't you think that I should be better employed in +thinking over an impending crisis than in listening to an exceedingly +dull play?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," she admitted, "but crises do not occur in political affairs +every day. I might even be vain enough to suggest another and a simpler +means of escape from your boredom."</p> + +<p>"I am very justly rebuked," he admitted, holding her fingers for a +moment, "only you must remember that it is new for me to have so +delightful a means of escape ready by my side. Give me a little time to +realize my good fortune."</p> + +<p>"So long as it doesn't become a habit," she murmured. "I am sure I am +not exacting, but I should hate to feel that you were always so +engrossed in your thoughts that you did not even realize whom you were +sitting next."</p> + +<p>He touched her fingers once more, and his pressure was gently returned. +Then, as if conscious that she had been a little more than ordinarily +complacent, she withdrew her hand, and leaning over began to talk with +her mother about some people whom Deane knew nothing of. A man from +behind touched him on the shoulder. He looked up quickly and recognized +Hardaway.</p> + +<p>"Come and have a cigarette," the lawyer said. "It is a quarter of an +hour's interval, and I should like to have a word with you."</p> + +<p>Deane excused himself to his companions, and joined his friend in the +foyer. "Well?" he asked tersely.</p> + +<p>Hardaway toyed with a cigarette case, and glanced quietly around. He was +tall and thin, clean-shaven, with hard, pronounced features and sunken +eyes, gray hair parted in the middle, and a single eyeglass suspended +around his neck by a narrow black ribbon. He looked exactly what he +was—a criminal lawyer.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to have a word with you, Deane," he said, "about this Rowan +case."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. "Is there anything fresh?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Nothing particular," the lawyer answered. "Come upstairs for a moment."</p> + +<p>They found a corner of the refreshment room where no one else was within +hearing. Deane lit his cigarette with perfectly steady fingers. There +was nothing in his face to indicate the fierce anxiety which was +consuming him.</p> + +<p>"With reference to that case," his companion commenced, "the facts were +all so simple that there was no need for the prosecution to consider any +other motive than the obvious one of attempted robbery. Therefore, no +very searching investigation has been made into the dead man's papers. +Yesterday afternoon, it occurred to me to look them through once more, +in case anything had been overlooked. I came across a clumsy sort of +document purporting to be the deeds of a gold-mine. I should not have +taken any particular notice of it but for the title of the mine."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"It was the Little Anna Gold-Mine," Hardaway continued. "These deeds +stated that Sinclair himself was the sole owner."</p> + +<p>"A very extraordinary document," Deane remarked. "I suppose you couldn't +manage things so that I could have a look at it?"</p> + +<p>"It would be quite impossible," the lawyer answered. "Mine was, of +course, a privileged inspection, and I am going beyond my duty in +mentioning this affair to you. It certainly did seem very singular."</p> + +<p>"Especially," Deane remarked, with a faint, hard smile, "since you are +in a position to know that I have paid for the defence of the prisoner."</p> + +<p>"It is not my business to connect such facts," the lawyer remarked.</p> + +<p>"Someone will appear upon the scene sooner or later, of course," Deane +said, "and claim this man's effects."</p> + +<p>"Naturally," Hardaway answered, "although, except for this rather +remarkable document, they do not seem to have been very valuable."</p> + +<p>"If you should hear of anyone," said Deane, "I should be glad if you +would let me know without a second's delay."</p> + +<p>"I will do so," the lawyer promised.</p> + +<p>The bell tinkled. The men at the bar finished their drinks, threw away +their cigarettes, and hurried off. Deane and his companion rose to their +feet.</p> + +<p>"Hardaway," Deane said, "some of the papers are talking about a reprieve +for this man Rowan. Will it come to anything, do you think?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know," the lawyer answered cautiously.</p> + +<p>They moved along the passage leading down to the stalls. Deane held his +companion back until the little throng of hurrying men had passed by.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Hardaway," he said, "I speak to you as one speaks to the dead, +because you know the secrets of your profession, and because I trust +you. Is there any way in which a man of great wealth, who had the +command of money say up to fifty thousand pounds,—is there any way in +which such a man could help towards obtaining a reprieve?"</p> + +<p>Hardaway hesitated for a moment. "Of course," he admitted, "influence is +always a useful thing. Those who have the ruling of these matters are +sometimes hesitating between two minds. A very straw might turn the +balance."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded his head. He looked for a moment behind. His hand rested +upon the curtain which led into the stalls. There was not a soul in +sight. The play had recommenced.</p> + +<p>"Hardaway," he said, "I will give fifty thousand pounds, if necessary, +to have that man reprieved. The verdict should have been one of +manslaughter. I am convinced of that. I was in court. I heard the +sentence. I saw Rowan's face. I saw the judge put on the black cap, and +I heard those hateful words. Up to fifty thousand pounds, mind, +Hardaway, and I sha'n't have your bill of costs taxed...."</p> + +<p>Lady Olive was almost petulant. "What a time you have been, Stirling!" +she said.</p> + +<p>"Do forgive me," he begged. "I met a man outside who kept me gossiping +about trifles. Tell me, do you think that we can persuade your mother to +come out to supper?"</p> + +<p>"We've nowhere else to go," Lady Olive answered. "Do see if you can talk +her into it. It would be very pleasant."</p> + +<p>"I'll try," he promised.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>AN APPEAL</h3> + + +<p>A morning paper, apparently in lack of a new sensation, suddenly took up +the cause of Basil Rowan. An evening paper, conducted under the same +auspices, promptly followed suit. This was a case, they both declared, +of obvious manslaughter. The evidence clearly pointed to a quarrel +between the two men. A prominent criminal lawyer allowed his name to be +associated with what rapidly grew to be an agitation. Petitions began to +appear. The Home Secretary was bombarded with documents. Everywhere +people were saying that the man should never have been put on his trial +for murder. The jury had been confused by their instructions. It was a +case of manslaughter, pure and simple.</p> + +<p>Three days after her first visit, Winifred Rowan sat once more in +Deane's office. There were lines underneath her eyes. She seemed to have +become thinner and more fragile. Deane himself, save that he was a +trifle paler, was unchanged,—carefully dressed as usual, and with +unruffled demeanor. He sat in his accustomed place, and guided the +destinies of those great affairs which lay under his control. For the +moment he had relaxed. He was doing his best to console the girl who had +come to him in a sudden whirl of terror.</p> + +<p>"My dear Miss Rowan," he said, "I have certain intelligence from my +friends. I have gone to great lengths in this matter, and I can assure +you that there is not the slightest doubt about a reprieve being +forthcoming."</p> + +<p>She glanced at the calendar. "But think," she said, "already for three +days he has lain there, sentenced to death. Think of what he must be +suffering. Oh, it is horrible! It isn't only death," she cried. "Think +of the manner of it,—the hideous disgrace, the cruel, cold ugliness of +it! Oh, if it should come—"</p> + +<p>He held out his hand. She was on the verge of hysteria. "It shall not +come," he declared firmly. "I have promised you that."</p> + +<p>"If they are going to reprieve him," she continued, "why do they let him +suffer these agonies? Why do they not tell him so at once? I saw him +this morning. He says nothing. He is as brave as a man can be, but his +eyes are awful, and when he tries to speak his voice dies away. Oh! Mr. +Deane, do something! Oh! do something!"</p> + +<p>She laid her hands suddenly upon his shoulders. He took them gently in +his.</p> + +<p>"My dear Miss Rowan, I am doing everything that man can do. Believe me +that I am. I only wish that your brother had done as he threatened, and +walked into the river, before he came to me."</p> + +<p>She went away at last. Deane lay back in his chair, feeling absolutely +unfit for work. Twice he laid his hand upon the telephone, and twice he +withdrew it. Then he turned to his secretary, who had just entered the +room.</p> + +<p>"Get Mr. Hardaway upon the telephone," he directed. "I want to speak to +him."</p> + +<p>In a few moments the bell of the instrument by his side tinkled. He put +the receiver to his ear.</p> + +<p>"Is that Hardaway?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" was the answer.</p> + +<p>"This is Stirling Deane. You remember the subject of our conversation +the other night at the theatre? I am referring now to the matter of +documents of which you spoke."</p> + +<p>"I remember," Hardaway answered.</p> + +<p>"In whose possession are those documents at the present moment?" Deane +asked.</p> + +<p>"In whose possession," Hardaway repeated. "Do you mean—"</p> + +<p>"I mean have they been sent to Scotland Yard, or are they still in that +locked-up room at the Universal Hotel?"</p> + +<p>There was a moment's pause. Then Hardaway answered. "To the best of my +belief," he said, "they are still in the room at the hotel. They may be +removed to Scotland Yard at any time, though."</p> + +<p>"No one has yet claimed Sinclair's effects, then?" asked Deane.</p> + +<p>"No one," was the answer.</p> + +<p>Deane was on the point of ringing off, but Hardaway suddenly put a +question to him. "Shall you be in your office for ten minutes, Mr. +Deane?"</p> + +<p>"For longer than that," Deane answered.</p> + +<p>"I am coming around," the lawyer said. "I hope you can spare me a +moment."</p> + +<p>Deane set down the telephone with a frown. Perhaps his question had been +a clumsy one, or was Hardaway already suspicious? He welcomed the +lawyer, when he arrived, a little coldly.</p> + +<p>"Five minutes, please," he said. "I have a large mail to go through, and +an early dinner-party to-night."</p> + +<p>The lawyer nodded. "I don't want to detain you, Deane," he said. "Send +your secretary away for a moment, there's a good fellow. What I have to +say can be said in half-a-dozen words if we are alone."</p> + +<p>Deane pointed to the door. "One moment, if you please, Ellison," he +said. "Get everything ready for me that you can."</p> + +<p>The two men were alone. Hardaway, who had not taken a seat, deliberately +drew off his glove, and tapped the table with his fingertips.</p> + +<p>"Deane," he said, "have you any idea of paying a visit to the Universal +Hotel?"</p> + +<p>Deane met him on his own ground, coolly, and with perfect +self-possession. "I have not made up my mind," he said. "It might be +worth it."</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't," the lawyer said. "There's nothing haphazard about the way +these things are conducted. There's a detective watching Number 27, day +and night."</p> + +<p>"It occurred to me," Deane remarked, "that as there is no mystery about +this affair, Scotland Yard would not have thought that necessary."</p> + +<p>"It is as I have told you," said Hardaway. "At any time after to-morrow, +the man's clothing and documents, and everything belonging to him, will +be removed, unless they are claimed. Until they are claimed they are +watched. It wouldn't do, Deane, for a man in your position to be seen in +this place, especially when one of those papers bears the name of your +mine, and Sinclair has just been murdered by a man for whose defence you +have paid."</p> + +<p>"That's plain speaking," Deane remarked.</p> + +<p>"It's what I came to say," Hardaway answered. "Don't do it, Deane. We +are not in Africa, you know. Your methods were splendid there. They +might spell ruin here. Good-night!"</p> + +<p>"The reprieve?" Deane asked.</p> + +<p>"A certainty," Hardaway answered, looking back from the door. "It may be +a week before it is issued, but it is a certainty all the same."</p> + +<p>Deane sat in his chair, looking through the dusty window out into the +court,—a dull vista enough, and uninspiring. Of the lawyer's words he +took little enough notice. The reprieve would come, of that he was +certain, but nevertheless he was beginning to feel the severity of the +strain. He was a man who would have been kind-hearted but for the +continual pressure of business obligations. He was a great schemer, a +man of imagination, and a brilliant financier. There had been little +room in his life for the gentler side of his nature to develop. Yet it +had been a genuine horror which he had felt, which he had carried about +with him since the day he had visited the court and looked into Rowan's +white face, and heard those awful words of condemnation amid a silence +intense, unnatural, hideous. It was a memory from which he could not +easily rid himself, a memory which had penetrated even that splendid +armor of indifference in which the man of toil and thought gradually +encases himself. The girl's white face, too, and her plaintive eyes, had +touched his heart. He felt that this period of suspense was growing +almost unendurable!</p> + +<p>His secretary entered the room quietly. "Did you wish me to make any +arrangements, sir," he asked, "for the journey to Scotland?"</p> + +<p>Deane looked at him for a moment as a man without understanding. Then he +suddenly remembered that to-morrow was the day on which he was to leave +London to join the Nunneley's house-party.</p> + +<p>"I am not sure, Ellison," he said doubtfully. "I will let you know in a +few minutes."</p> + +<p>Once more he was alone. More impossible, even, than the grim monotony of +the days in town seemed the thought of that prim country house, with its +well-ordered days, its fashionable, easy-going crowd of people. He +suddenly lost heart as he thought of Lady Olive and the prosecution of +his well-ordered courtship. These things for the moment he felt were +impossible. He wrote out a telegram and sent for a Bradshaw. The next +day he disappeared from London.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>RUBY SINCLAIR</h3> + + +<p>Twenty-four hours later, Deane walked upon a wilderness of marshy sands, +glittering here and there with the stain of the sea, blue in places with +the delicate flush of sea lavender. In the background, a village of +red-tiled roofs. Before him, an empty sea. Behind and around, nothing +but this stretch of bare, flat country, empty even of the sea until the +tide should come and thrust its long arms of glittering silver up into +the heart of the land. A few wandering gulls screamed overhead. From +inland, a great silence. Here, too, the sea, flowing in upon the level +sands, was quiet and noiseless. Deane felt every nerve of his body at +rest. He realized to the full the marvelous joy of solitude. All the +strain of those last few days seemed to have fallen away. He looked back +upon that passionate chapter of his life as a stranger might look back +upon recorded happenings. The tragedy of Basil Rowan, condemned to death +amid the awful silence of that spell-bound court, sitting now in his +cell with his head turned toward the door, passing through long hours of +torture waiting for the reprieve which might never come, appealed to him +now only as it might appeal to a million others who read the newspapers. +He was almost able to forget that it was he in a measure who was +responsible for that episode. He was able, even, to forget the tragical +side of Winifred Rowan's visits,—to remember only her gentle, appealing +ways, her passionate pleading, her gratitude, tempered still with +anxiety, which had triumphed at their last interview over the repugnance +which she had at first plainly shown towards him. All these doings and +happenings were of another world. Here, trouble and anxiety were like +the noxious playthings of a race of children. The sea that rippled in so +softly on to the firm sands remained untroubled. The seagulls wheeling +above his head in lazy content filled the air with their soothing cries. +Everywhere the sunshine lay about the sea-stained places. The green +marshes sparkled like emeralds. The wet seaweed, lying about in little +heaps, seemed struggling to express new subtleties of color. Down one of +the reaches came a brown-sailed fishing-boat, steered by a man who lay +at full length upon the deck, his head upon a coil of rope, one hand +only grasping the tiller. A few cows were standing about in the drier +part of the marshes, swinging their tails, and moving slowly from one to +another of the little plots of herbage. The very smoke from those +red-tiled cottages went straight to Heaven, unruffled by even the +faintest of breezes. To Deane it seemed that he had found an idyll of +still life, and with a strong instinct of relief, he felt the desire for +sleep, so long denied him, creeping over his hot eyes. The drowsiness of +the place numbed his senses. The pain ceased. He was content to forget. +He threw himself upon the sands, with his back to a sandy knoll covered +with weedy green grass, and with the murmur of the sea in his ears, he +slept.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Deane was awakened by a light touch upon his arm. He sat up, and was +aware of a girl bending over him.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to disturb you," she said, "but if you sit there for another +five minutes, you will be very wet."</p> + +<p>The tide was already within a few feet of them. Deane realized the +position and struggled to his feet. "It was very kind of you to wake +me," he said. "I have come down here for a rest, and I suppose I was +entering into the programme a little too thoroughly. After London, the +sea air is just a little strong."</p> + +<p>She looked at him with interest, and he returned the gaze. She was +tall—almost as tall as he was himself—slim, with dark eyes, heavy +eyebrows, and complexion burnt brown by exposure to all sorts of +weathers. She wore plain tweed clothes, in the cut of which his critical +eye quickly detected the village tailor. Yet there was something about +her appearance which seemed to remove her definitely from behind the +pale of rusticity. Her eyes were long, and a little narrow, her eyelids +heavy, her mouth had a discontented turn at the corners, her whole +expression was a trifle sullen. He was not in the least prepared for the +change in her face when her forehead suddenly relaxed, the corners of +her mouth softened, and her lips parted in a dazzling smile.</p> + +<p>"You are a Londoner?" she asked simply.</p> + +<p>"Very much so, I am afraid."</p> + +<p>"Afraid?" she repeated incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" he asked. "I am one of the slaves of the world, a man who +sits in his office and toils, year in and year out. We're caught in the +Golden Web, you see. The time comes," he continued, "when we find our +way into a little corner of the earth like this, and one realizes the +gigantic folly of it."</p> + +<p>"Your point of view is interesting but unconvincing," she said.</p> + +<p>"Why unconvincing?"</p> + +<p>"Have you ever thought of the matter from the other point of view?" she +asked,—"thought about those poor people, for instance, who have to live +in a corner of the world like this, always? All these things, which rest +and soothe you here, are beautiful by sheer force of contrast. For a few +days—a week or so, perhaps—the contemplation of them would be restful. +You would lie about on the sands and in the sunshine and believe that +you had found Paradise. And then I think that you would begin to get +just a little discontented. The sun doesn't always shine here, you know, +and when the sun doesn't shine, all the land is colorless. The sea is +gray and ugly, the marshes are flat and dreary, the wind, even in the +summer time, is cold."</p> + +<p>He looked at her with interest. She had turned inland, walking very +slowly, and he somehow or other found himself by her side, her +self-invited companion.</p> + +<p>"That is rather a pathetic picture," he said. "Anyhow, the solitude +remains, and when one has lived with the roar in one's brain, year in +and year out, the solitude itself is marvelous."</p> + +<p>"And when one has lived," she said, "with the solitude always on one's +nerves, lying about one's senses, as though one were the only live thing +in a dead and forgotten world, don't you think that one may long for the +roar, even as you have come here longing for the solitude?"</p> + +<p>"We apparently represent the opposite poles," he remarked lightly. "Tell +me, do you live here? I presume, from the feeling with which you speak, +that you are a native."</p> + +<p>"I have lived here for nine years," she answered. "I live in a small +house, which you can see just behind the village there. It is very tiny, +but very pretty to look at. I have lived there with an aunt who was a +farmer's daughter, and is very domestic, and an uncle who was invalided +early in life from the Indian Civil Service, and who has done nothing +but play golf and fish and study his constitution for the last fifteen +years."</p> + +<p>"You don't travel much, then?"</p> + +<p>"I have not been out of this county," she answered, "since I first set +foot in it, nine years ago. I had almost given up all hope of ever +leaving it, until," she added, with a little sigh of content, "a few +weeks ago."</p> + +<p>He nodded sympathetically. "You are going to travel at last, then?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"I hope so," she said. "I have an uncle come home from abroad, who, I +believe, is very rich. He wrote to me the day he landed, saying that he +was going to send for me to pay him a visit. I am expecting to hear from +him now any day."</p> + +<p>"He is in London?"</p> + +<p>"In London!" with a little sigh. "Fancy," she went on, turning towards +him, "I have never been in London! Just say that to yourself, and +imagine what it means. The biggest town I have ever seen is King's Lynn. +Have you ever been to King's Lynn?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head. "I am afraid not."</p> + +<p>"Then you can't understand," she said,—"I couldn't make you +understand—what it means to me to think that very soon I shall have a +glimpse, at any rate, into the world. If I had met you three weeks ago, +probably I shouldn't have dreamed of waking you up. I should have let +you get wet and then laughed at you. If you had ventured to speak to me, +I should probably have stuck my nose in the air and walked away. You see +how mellowing an influence even the possibility of escape is."</p> + +<p>"What a disagreeable young person you must have been!" he remarked.</p> + +<p>She nodded. They were walking side by side now on the top of a tall +dyke. On their left-hand side was the creek which flowed into the +village from the sea.</p> + +<p>"That is precisely my reputation," she declared. "My aunt detests me. My +uncle is always irritable because I can beat him at golf. He is out +playing over there now," she remarked, with a wave of her hand toward +the furthest stretch of the marshes. "Do you play golf?"</p> + +<p>Deane admitted that he did not.</p> + +<p>"You came here, then, only to rest?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Only to rest," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Where are you staying?"</p> + +<p>He turned around and pointed to the square stone tower which stood on +the edge of the sea. "I am stopping there," he answered,—"the old +Coastguard's Tower they call it, I believe. It is the queerest +habitation I have ever been in."</p> + +<p>"You wonderful person!" she declared. "How ever did you get old Pegg and +his wife to clear out?"</p> + +<p>"I paid them well," he answered. "At least I didn't do it myself. My +servant comes from these parts, and he told me about the place and +arranged everything. I am hoping to be able to buy it."</p> + +<p>There was, as he had remarked from the first, not the slightest +reticence about her. She had almost the frankness of a child.</p> + +<p>"You have a servant?" she asked, looking at him with renewed interest. +"Do you mean that he is there with you now?"</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. "I could scarcely be expected to cook for myself, could +I?" he inquired. "He completes my establishment."</p> + +<p>"I suppose," she said, "you are a rich man."</p> + +<p>Deane shrugged his shoulders. "Wealth," he remarked, "is a relative +thing."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I don't understand those fine sayings!" she declared, a little +impetuously. "I only know that to have money is grand, is wonderful. I +would give anything in the world to be rich, to have money to spend as I +wanted to spend it, and clothes, and jewels, and all the delightful +little things of life, to go where I wanted, live as I wished, buy the +things I wanted to buy. There's something hideous about being a pauper."</p> + +<p>He looked at her curiously. She was certainly, for all her frankness, a +new type. Her frankness was more the frankness of a child than the +outspokenness of <i>gaucherie</i>.</p> + +<p>"Some day," he said, "you may probably have your wish. There is your +uncle, for instance."</p> + +<p>She nodded. "It is my one hope," she said, "my one hope. I go to meet +the postman every morning. It is three weeks since he wrote and said +that he was going to send for me. You don't think that he would change +his mind?" she asked, turning suddenly towards him with almost tragic +intensity.</p> + +<p>"Very unlikely, I should say," he answered. "Has he any other +relatives?"</p> + +<p>"None," she answered. "Even my uncle and aunt with whom I live here are +not relatives of his. You see, he was my father's brother. Mr. Sarsby +was my mother's brother."</p> + +<p>"It is Mr. and Mrs. Sarsby with whom you live?" he remarked.</p> + +<p>She nodded. "Yes! And my name is Sinclair," she said,—"Ruby Sinclair."</p> + +<p>He stopped short for a minute in the middle of the dyke path. She was +walking a little ahead, and missing him in a few moments, turned around. +He was standing like a man turned to stone.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" she asked. "Are you tired, or aren't you well?"</p> + +<p>He recovered himself with a little effort. "It is all right," he said. +"You know I told you I'd come down here to recoup a little. I get +nervous attacks. I was suddenly giddy then."</p> + +<p>She came back. Her face was once more softened in its expression of +kindly concern. "Would you like to take my arm?" she asked, a little +timidly. "We are close to the cottage now. Perhaps you would like to +come in and sit down. My aunt would be glad to see you."</p> + +<p>"No!" he said. "Let us rest here for a moment."</p> + +<p>They sat down on the edge of the high, grassy bank. He tortured himself, +gazing into her face, trying to find some likeness between her and the +murdered man. There was none, he told himself,—none. The name was a +common one—one of the commonest. It was ridiculous to connect this girl +in any way with the tragedy under whose shadow he had passed. Yet he +felt his fingers nervously clutching the bank upon which they were +sitting. The seagulls still wheeled their way across his head. The tide +was flowing softly up into the creek below them. A fishing-boat came +gliding by. A lark rose almost from their feet, and was singing just +above their heads. Everywhere around was peace and quiet. It was the +same land in which he had found content only a few hours ago, yet it +seemed to him that already the shadow had come.</p> + +<p>It was she who rose first. She shook out her skirts a little +reluctantly, and turned toward the village, saying: "I am sorry, but I +must go. Meals at our house are the one thing more certain than the +rising of the sun. We lunch at one, and it is ten minutes to. Do you +feel well enough to get back, or will you come on with me?"</p> + +<p>"I will go back," he said. "I wonder," he continued, "what are you going +to do this afternoon?"</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders. "There is nothing," she answered. "Come out +here, I suppose, and pray that I may have a letter to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"Be unconventional," he begged. "Take pity upon an invalid, and come and +have tea with me."</p> + +<p>"I'd love to," she answered, "if I can get away. About half-past four?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he. "I shall be waiting for you."</p> + +<p>"Don't come to meet me," she begged,—"not that it matters, of course, +only if uncle knew that you were staying there, and that you came from +London, and that I had talked to you, he would want to come and call. He +is one of those fussy people who like to hear themselves talk, and to +make acquaintances. It's all very well for you to shiver," she added, +with a little smile, "but I have to live with him."</p> + +<p>With a laugh he said: "I'll hide, until I see you actually before the +door. You will come, though?"</p> + +<p>"I'll come," she promised, turning away with a little wave of the hand.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>AN INFORMAL TEA-PARTY</h3> + + +<p>After all, the element of unconventionality was absent from Deane's +tea-party. About four o'clock, looking landwards from a little sandy +knoll just in front of his strange abode, he saw two figures coming +along the dyke path. A few minutes later, Ruby Sinclair and her +companion came across the last little strip of shingle, and approached +the spot where Deane was waiting for them.</p> + +<p>"My uncle would like to make your acquaintance, Mr. Deane," she said.</p> + +<p>Deane held out his hand and welcomed his visitor—a small, fussy-looking +little man with a gray moustache, and a somewhat awkward air of being at +his ease. He wore a tweed knickerbocker suit,—very old-fashioned, and +of local make,—a flannel collar, and an ill-chosen tie. He shook hands +with his host in a perfunctory sort of manner.</p> + +<p>"Thought I must just look you up," he explained, "living out here. Such +a lonely spot, too! You are going to play golf, of course?"</p> + +<p>Deane shook his head. "I never play," he answered. "I have come here to +rest."</p> + +<p>To rest! The word seemed a strange one to the fussy little man, who was +already taking stock of his surroundings. Photographs in silver frames, +a pile of books—all new, a gun and fishing-rod, and other such +belongings—all, naturally, the best of their sort!</p> + +<p>"Well, but you must do something!" Mr. Sarsby remarked. "You cannot sit +here all day and look at the sea,—like the fishermen," he continued, +with a little laugh. "A very lazy lot—our fishermen," he went on. +"Never go out if there's a ripple on the sea."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. "The tides," he remarked, "are rather treacherous, I +should think."</p> + +<p>The servant brought in tea and a great dish of strawberries, at which +Mr. Sarsby gazed in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Strawberries!" he exclaimed. "Why, we don't begin to think about them +for another six weeks!"</p> + +<p>"Is that so?" answered Deane, carelessly. "I never know anything about +seasons, and my man is doing the catering. Miss Sinclair, you must make +the tea for us. I am afraid our methods are a little crude, but you see +we are trying to get along without any women-servants."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sarsby was a little abashed. He had seldom sat down to a table +covered by a cloth of such fine linen, and he had certainly never been +waited upon, of late years, by a man-servant. His little eyes roved +inquisitively around. "You come from London, sir, my niece tells me," he +remarked.</p> + +<p>"From London," Deane replied.</p> + +<p>"A wonderful place!" Mr. Sarsby said, with a sigh. "Since I retired, +unfortunately, I have had to drop out of life altogether."</p> + +<p>"Your health?" Deane suggested politely.</p> + +<p>"My health, and my ridiculously small pension," Mr. Sarsby answered. "I +can't make out what the country is coming to. Years ago, pensions were +altogether on a different scale. To-day, it seems to me that every +government is always trying to shirk its obligations to those who go out +and help to build up the empire."</p> + +<p>This was Mr. Sarsby's favorite little speech, which he made regularly +several times a week in the village, and once a year at a club dinner. +Deane received it in sympathetic silence.</p> + +<p>"Tell me how you spend your time, Miss Sinclair?" he asked. "You play +golf, I think you told me."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I do all the obvious things one has to do, living in such a place," +she said. "I swim and I fish, I play golf and tennis when I can get any, +and I sail a boat when I can borrow one. Those things are all sport to +you, I suppose. When they become not a part of your life, but the whole +of it, they are a dreary sort of pursuits."</p> + +<p>"My niece is seldom satisfied," Mr. Sarsby said sharply.</p> + +<p>"Why should I be?" she asked. "You, at least, have had your day. You +have seen something of life, in however small a circle. I haven't! I +dare say, after twenty years away, I might be content with these things. +Life for you is simply a satisfactory thing or not according to whether +you have beaten Colonel Forsitt or whether he has beaten you, whether +you are heeling your mashie shots or laying them dead, holing your putts +or leaving them short. You see, I haven't quite come to the stage when I +find these things sufficient."</p> + +<p>"At any rate," Mr. Sarsby remarked, with what he imagined was a +dignified air, "there is no need to take a stranger into your +confidence. Mr. Deane is scarcely interested."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," Deane answered, with a little bow. "But I thought you +told me, Miss Sinclair, that you were probably leaving us before long."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hope so!" she replied. "My uncle was not a man to break his +promise, and he did promise. I am expecting to hear now every day."</p> + +<p>After tea, they wandered out on to the little stretch of sandy shingle +which alone separated the cottage from the sea. The girl had walked on a +little ahead, and Deane laid his hand for a moment upon her uncle's +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Sarsby," he said, "did I understand that the name of your niece's +uncle was Sinclair—the same as her own?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Sarsby nodded. "Yes, sir!" he said,—"Richard Sinclair. He was her +father's brother, you see,—a queer, wandering sort of fish. However, he +certainly did write the girl, a few weeks ago, saying that he was back +in England, and hoped to realize a large sum of money on some of his +investments, and promised to send for her to come up to town. Since +then, we have heard nothing from him."</p> + +<p>"Do you read the papers, Mr. Sarsby?" Deane asked.</p> + +<p>"I read the <i>Times</i> for an hour every afternoon between five and six," +Mr. Sarsby admitted. "I have a special arrangement with Mr. Foulds—the +vicar—which enables me to do this,—a special arrangement!" he +concluded, with a little gurgle of satisfaction. "Our vicar, by the bye, +Mr. Deane, is a highly intelligent man. He will doubtless be coming +across to see you."</p> + +<p>"I am here for so short a time," Deane said. "It is very kind of people, +but really it is scarcely worth their while to trouble to come to see +me. I am going on to Scotland in a few days. It is only that I was a +little run down, and scarcely felt up to a large house-party, that I +came here first."</p> + +<p>"You are one of those fortunate people, I see," Mr. Sarsby remarked, a +little enviously, "who mix in the world."</p> + +<p>Deane shrugged his shoulders. "More or less, I suppose," he admitted. +"But I was asking you whether you read the papers. I did so for an +object. I wonder whether you have noticed the details of a very sordid +murder that was committed in a London hotel a short time ago?"</p> + +<p>"I never read of such things, sir!" Mr. Sarsby declared. "They do not +interest me. I read the political news and the foreign intelligence. +Anything that pertains to India, also, naturally claims my attention. I +have always contended," he continued, "that a golf column in the +<i>Times</i>, say twice a week, would be much appreciated. We who study the +game from the scientific point of view would like to see the attitude +the <i>Times</i> would take on certain matters. For instance, I myself—"</p> + +<p>"Pardon my interrupting you, Mr. Sarsby," Deane said, with his eyes upon +the returning figure of the girl, "but I was speaking about this murder. +Curiously enough, the unfortunate man was named Sinclair, and he had +just returned from abroad."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sarsby slowly opened his mouth. Looking up at his companion blankly, +"You don't for a moment imagine," he began, "that there could be any +connection between this person and Ruby's uncle?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't any idea," Deane answered, "but when she mentioned his name, +and told me that he had just come back from Africa, and that she had +been waiting for a letter which did not come, it certainly occurred to +me to be rather in the nature of a coincidence!"</p> + +<p>"Have you a paper?" Mr. Sarsby asked hurriedly.</p> + +<p>Deane shook his head. "No!" he said. "But there must be a village +library, or some place where the London papers are preserved."</p> + +<p>"There is," Mr. Sarsby declared. "I will hurry back. I will go and read +about it at once. Does it say whether the unfortunate man," he +continued, "was possessed of any means?"</p> + +<p>"I do not remember," Deane said. "The object of the murder was supposed +to be robbery, but the hotel he was staying at scarcely seemed to be one +likely to attract a man of wealth."</p> + +<p>"I shall hurry back at once," Mr. Sarsby declared. "If there is anything +in this, I must come and ask your advice."</p> + +<p>"If the thing seems in any way possible," Deane remarked, "you will have +to run up to town and make inquiries."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sarsby opened his mouth. "My dear sir!" he exclaimed. "Go to London? +But there, there!" he added. "I forgot! If there is anything in it, the +estate would, of course, pay my railway fare. Such a busy week, too, as +I have next week," he added, taking out his memorandum book and glancing +at it for a moment. "I have seven golf matches,—three foursomes and +four singles. I scarcely see how I could get away. Ruby," he called, +"come along, my dear. We must be getting back."</p> + +<p>The girl stifled a yawn. She was beginning to be a bit curious as to why +their host had devoted all his attention to her uncle. "Very well," she +answered laconically. "I am quite ready. Good-bye, Mr. Deane!"</p> + +<p>"If I may," he said, "I will walk a little way with you."</p> + +<p>They crossed the strip of shingly beach together. Afterwards, by +necessity, the party became detached. Mr. Sarsby walked on ahead. Deane +and the girl followed him, a few yards behind.</p> + +<p>"You seem to have found plenty to say to my uncle," she remarked +curiously.</p> + +<p>"If you will spoil an interesting tea-party," he murmured, "by bringing +in an elderly male relative,—"</p> + +<p>"It wasn't my fault," she interrupted. "He would come—insisted upon +it—as soon as he knew that I had spoken to you. Your man has been +making purchases and sending telegrams in the village, which has made +every one curious. People who live in small places are always such +snobs."</p> + +<p>He laughed. "Well, I had to talk to your uncle, anyhow," he said.</p> + +<p>She nodded. "You know now what I have to put up with," she said. "He is +a dull, ignorant, pompous little bore. You have probably found that out +for yourself by now."</p> + +<p>"You dismiss your relatives a little summarily," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"I try to speak the truth," she answered. "I believe in being just to +people. If I knew of any good quality that he possessed, I would tell it +to you,—but I don't!"</p> + +<p>She believed in being just! He looked at her as she walked by his side, +stepping along with the delightful freedom of healthy youth, her limbs +clearly defined beneath her thin skirt,—for they were facing a land +breeze which played havoc, also, with her hair. She walked well, her +head a little thrown back. Deane recognized the graceful lines of her +neck and throat, the carriage of her chin. There was something +particularly rhythmic about her movements. She was a believer in +justice! Well, she looked like that. The mouth, in repose, was a little +hard,—the jaw determined. He found himself wondering, with a nervous +sort of morbid curiosity, exactly what she would say and do if she had +known with whom she was walking, and if Dick Sinclair had indeed been +her uncle! Supposing she knew the whole truth,—knew of that heated +interview, knew of Rowan's enterprise, knew of the paper which was still +sewn into the dead man's coat! She would scarcely be an easy person to +deal with, he thought.</p> + +<p>Her uncle had turned round. They had reached the end of the dyke. A +little grass-grown footpath led them now to the side of the harbor, +beyond which lay the village.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Deane," he said,—"Mr. Deane, I should like to show you the village +schoolroom."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. "I should be very glad," he said.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sarsby turned to his niece. "Ruby," he said, "go home and tell your +aunt where we are. I shall be home in half-an-hour,—perhaps +five-and-twenty minutes. If there is any message for me from the golf +club, the boy can wait till I return. This way, Mr. Deane,—this way."</p> + +<p>The girl turned away with a little grimace, and waved her hand to Deane +as she disappeared. The two men climbed the village street side by side.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR</h3> + + +<p>Mr. Sarsby, like most men of his stamp, when brought in touch with +larger things than his world knew of, was nervous and helpless. He +seemed to throw the whole weight of further action upon this stranger at +whose instigation he had commenced the search.</p> + +<p>The reading-room was empty except for these two men. Deane was sitting +in the little bow window, looking down with apparent interest into the +narrow, tortuous street. Sarsby, with a pile of torn and crumpled +newspapers in front of him, was still standing, leaning over the long +table in the centre of the room. His search was finished. He had no +doubt whatever in his mind. The murdered man was indeed Ruby's uncle!</p> + +<p>"Mr. Deane!" he exclaimed hoarsely.</p> + +<p>Deane turned his head. "Well?"</p> + +<p>"There's no doubt at all about it," declared Mr. Sarsby, striking the +little pile of papers with the back of his hand. "It's the man—it's +Ruby's uncle! The date of his arrival corresponds, and the hotel is the +one from which he wrote to Ruby."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. "I fancied that it must be the same," he said.</p> + +<p>"It is the same," Mr. Sarsby declared. "What are we to do? Something +must be done at once!"</p> + +<p>"Exactly," Deane remarked. "Your niece, of course, must claim her +inheritance—that is, if the man was really worth anything."</p> + +<p>"Of course!—Of course!" Mr. Sarsby said. "Dear me, what an unfortunate +business this all is! I suppose I must go to London with her, and London +always upsets me horribly."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid that you must make up your mind to that," Deane remarked. +"As I said before, if there is anything I can do to help you, I shall be +delighted."</p> + +<p>"But you won't be there," Mr. Sarsby said. "You are going from here to +Scotland."</p> + +<p>Deane hesitated. "I might," he said,—"in fact I think that I certainly +should,—go to Scotland by way of London."</p> + +<p>"But we must leave at once!" Mr. Sarsby declared. "At least I suppose +so."</p> + +<p>Deane rose to his feet. He had not much sympathy for the frightened +little man, whose eyes were continually seeking his as though for help +and advice.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "I scarcely see how you can keep away, under the +circumstances. You must talk it over with your niece, and let me know +what you decide."</p> + +<p>They left the place together. As they stepped out on to the pavement, +Mr. Sarsby coughed apologetically. "I suppose," said he, "you would +consider it necessary for me to tell my niece about this? It will be a +shock to her, of course. She had hoped so much from the coming of this +uncle, and I am afraid that she is not particularly contented here."</p> + +<p>"I scarcely see," Deane answered, "how you can keep it from her."</p> + +<p>"There is no mention of any property," Mr. Sarsby remarked,—"none at +all. In fact, the papers say that his effects were so small that it +seemed difficult to believe that robbery was the motive of the crime. +Still, I suppose she must be told."</p> + +<p>Deane walked down the narrow street, his hands behind his back, his eyes +fixed upon the arm of the river below, dotted now with brown-sailed +fishing-boats. Here, after all, was a simple way out of the difficulty! +The murdered man had no other relatives. In all probability, no one +would ever tell the girl. No one would ever claim the possessions of the +dead man, whatsoever they might be. Then common sense reasserted itself +in his brain, and he stifled the instinct which he had so nearly yielded +to.</p> + +<p>"She must be told, Mr. Sarsby," he said. "If you would rather not tell +her yourself, I will do so."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sarsby shook his head. "It isn't that," he said. "I don't mind +telling her. But it's the journey to London, and the excitement, and all +that. I hate worry of any sort. It's bad for my health, anyhow."</p> + +<p>They stood upon the little quay, and Deane hesitated. "If there is +anything further which I can do," he said, "come out and look me up. In +any case, let me see you before you start for London."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sarsby wrung his hand. "It is very good of you," he declared. "I +shall certainly come out before we start,—most certainly! I can't +imagine what Ruby will say. Poor girl! Poor girl!"</p> + +<p>Deane retraced his steps along the high dyke bank to the marshes which +surrounded his tower. Once or twice he looked behind, looked toward the +low white front of the cottage which the girl had pointed out as her +abode. Once he fancied that he saw something moving in the garden, and +he stood on the top of the dyke, gazing with a curious interest at the +slowly moving speck passing in and out amongst the trees. Then it +vanished. He turned and made his way homeward....</p> + +<p>Towards sunset, the heat of the day seemed suddenly to increase. A +curiously hot wind sprang up from the land, black clouds gathered in the +sky, and unusual darkness hung over the land. The air seemed charged +with electricity. Every moment it seemed as though the clouds must break +and the storm come. The tide came rolling in, no longer with a faint, +insistent ripple, but with great powerful waves, throwing their spray +far and wide. Deane left his dinner more than once to stand outside on +the little knoll and watch. Every moment he expected to see the banks of +black clouds riven with lightning, to hear the far-off muttering across +the sea grow nearer and nearer. The whole world seemed to be in a state +of suspended animation. The seagulls had ceased their screaming, and had +taken shelter in some hidden haunt. A little fleet of fishing-boats had +furled their sails. Not a soul was to be seen upon the marshes.</p> + +<p>Deane finished his dinner and sat by the wide-open window, leaning upon +his folded arms, looking out at the foam-flecked sea,—foam which seemed +to glitter with a clear, white phosphorescence in the failing light. +There were books by his side, but he felt no inclination to +read;—cigarettes and cigars at his elbow, but he lacked the enterprise +to smoke. There was something almost theatrical, something breathless, +in this pause before the storm! He himself was in an emotional frame of +mind. Another page of this tragic chapter had opened before him. The +coming of this girl was in itself a catastrophe. She would take +possession of the papers belonging to the murdered man,—would show +them, probably, to a lawyer. After that, only the worst could happen!</p> + +<p>Then, as he sat there, the profound silence was suddenly broken. He +heard the crunch of the gravel beneath flying footsteps, the rustle of a +skirt, a little half-subdued cry! He looked up in amazement. It was +Winifred Rowan who was coming towards him, her hair disordered, her eyes +lit with fear,—a strange, half-terrified figure, flying from the storm!</p> + +<p>"Miss Rowan!" he exclaimed breathlessly.</p> + +<p>Even as he spoke, the clouds were parted at last with a dazzling blaze +of forked lightning. The girl gave a little cry and held out her hands. +He leaned over, and, as the thunder shook the building, took her into +his arms, lifting her over the narrow window-sill into the room.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>THE EFFECT OF A STORM</h3> + + +<p>Deane was never quite sure how it had happened. The sudden crash of the +storm, the vivid play of the lightning in the darkened room, the curious +exultation which any outburst of nature seems to kindle in the forgotten +places, had somehow generated a curious excitement—something +electrical, incomprehensible, yet felt by both of them. His hands were +still about her for a moment after she was in the room. It was perhaps a +harmless instinct enough which caused her to draw a little nearer still +to him with fear, as the thunder crashed overhead and the ground beneath +their feet rocked. Then there happened what he was never able to +explain. She was in his arms, her panting breath fell hot upon his +cheek, his lips were pressed to hers, before he even realized what was +happening. Her head fell a little back, her lips seemed to meet his +freely, unresistingly. It was one of those moments of madness which seem +to be born and die away, without reason, almost without volition. Deane +himself was no Lothario. In his office he had talked kindly with this +girl, and it had never occurred to him for a single second even to hold +her hand in his. Her comings and goings, except for their association, +had left him unmoved. Afterwards, when he tried to think of it, his +senses were simply benumbed. Yet the fact remained that she had come +into his arms as though she had heard the call of his heart for her, +that their lips had met with all the effortless certainty of fate.</p> + +<p>The thunder ceased. She disengaged herself from his arms with a little +cry. Her bosom was still heaving, her cheeks were white almost to +ghastliness, with one little patch of brilliant color where his lips had +rested for a moment. She tried to speak, but the words seemed stifled in +her throat. He led her to a chair, arranged cushions for her back, and +stood over her.</p> + +<p>"Is there news?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"None!" she faltered.</p> + +<p>He shook his head. He was completely bewildered. "How did you find me +out?" he asked. "What brings you here at this hour?"</p> + +<p>"It is because there is no news," she cried, speaking with difficulty. +"I cannot rest or sleep. Every moment that passes tears at my +heartstrings. Life has become nothing but a living nightmare. Don't be +angry with me that I came. I was obliged to do something or I should +have gone mad."</p> + +<p>"I am not angry," he said. "I am only amazed, I cannot understand—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I found out where you were!" she said. "I did everything that was +mean. I bribed someone to tell me. This morning I saw Basil. I think I +came to him at a weak moment. The horror was in his eyes. I shrieked +when I saw him. Even now when I think I must shriek. Mr. Deane, I have +come to pray, to beg you to go back. You are very rich. There must be +ways of saving him. You have influence with people. Go back and use it. +What can you do here in the wilderness? It seems almost as though you +had left him to die."</p> + +<p>He stooped down and took her hands once more in his. "My dear little +friend," he said, "remember what I told you in my office. Believe me, I +should not have left London if the slightest doubt had remained as to +your brother's safety. Never mind how I managed it. You had better not +ask; you had better not know. But your brother will be reprieved. It is +a certain thing."</p> + +<p>She drew a long breath. Once more her face was at any rate human. The +lightning filled the room with a sudden glare. She caught at him with a +scream. "Oh! I am afraid, I am afraid!" she moaned.</p> + +<p>He passed his arm around her reassuringly. "You are overwrought," he +said. "You are almost at the end of your strength."</p> + +<p>He poured out some brandy and water, and made her drink it. Her hand +shook so that he had to guide the glass to her lips.</p> + +<p>"Listen," he said, "you must keep calm or you will be ill, and you will +not be able to help your brother. Tell me, have you eaten anything +to-day?"</p> + +<p>"I don't remember," she gasped.</p> + +<p>Deane rang the bell. "Something to eat," he ordered, "for one, as +quickly as you can. And some wine—anything will do."</p> + +<p>It was to the man's credit that he received his orders without comment +or surprise. Once more they two were alone.</p> + +<p>"If you have any faith in me," Deane said, "or any belief, remember what +I have told you. Your brother is safe. To-morrow or the next day the +reprieve will be signed."</p> + +<p>"Say it again!" she gasped, clinging to his hand.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow or the next day," he repeated firmly, "the reprieve will be +signed. There can be no mistake. There will be none."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" she murmured, half closing her eyes. "It was to hear you talk like +this that I came. I could not have borne it alone for another second. +Something in my head seemed to be giving way."</p> + +<p>"The storm, too, is terrifying," he said. "You were fortunate not to be +ten minutes later. Look!"</p> + +<p>He led her to the window. Across the marsh was a darkness that was less +of the atmosphere than of the falling torrents of rain,—rain that fell +in sheets, flung up again from the hard paths of the marshes in a white, +fringe-like foam. Seaward, the waves had become breakers. The one white +line had become a dozen.</p> + +<p>"You would have been drowned," he said, leading her back to her chair.</p> + +<p>"It is good of you," she said, "not to be angry. I ought not to have +come. I know that. Only I was afraid. In London I should have gone mad."</p> + +<p>The servant entered with a tray. Deane stood over her while she ate, +walking up and down the room, talking in a disconnected manner of many +things. Outside, the storm was passing away. Through the wide-open +windows fresh salt air came stealing into the room. Deane stood looking +out for a few minutes, and then turned towards his visitor with an air +of perplexity. She met his gaze, and her eyes suddenly filled with +tears.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I know I have been foolish," she said. "I am here and you don't +know what to do with me. Isn't that what you were thinking? I have been +very foolish," she added, with a sudden flood of color streaming into +her cheeks. "But remember, when I came I was mad. You will remember +that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" he answered reassuringly. "I will remember that."</p> + +<p>There was an awkward silence. Deane felt that it would have been torture +to her if he had alluded to that moment of madness, and yet it was hard +altogether to avoid it.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid," he said, "that you will have to put up with bachelor +quarters to-night. You can have my room here. I have another which will +do, but you would find it a little rough."</p> + +<p>She looked at him timidly. "Couldn't I—get back to the village?"</p> + +<p>He led her outside and pointed. The storm, coming with the full tide, +had wrought a strange change in the face of the land. Up to the very top +of the dykes was a turbulent waste of waters. The tower had been left as +though upon an island. Nowhere in sight was any land to be seen.</p> + +<p>"You see," Deane said to the girl, "it would not be safe to try and get +to the village. The water is up to within a few inches of the dyke, and +in the half darkness one might easily make a false step. From here one +cannot quite see, but I should imagine that the flood is over the +village street."</p> + +<p>She turned back toward the little gray stone building. "If you will let +me sleep in your sitting-room, then," she said timidly. "I will not turn +you out of your room."</p> + +<p>He laughed. "My dear young lady," he said, "if anyone in the world ever +needed sleep to-night, it is you. I am going to send you up to lie down +at once. You must promise me, promise faithfully, that you will remember +what I have said, that you will say this to yourself: 'The reprieve will +come!' It is the truth, mind. Say that to yourself and sleep."</p> + +<p>Then he touched the bell and spoke to his servant. "Grant, please make +my room as habitable as possible for this young lady. We are on an +island, and no one will be able to leave to-night. Put out anything of +mine you think may be useful to her."</p> + +<p>She turned towards him impulsively. "You are very good to me," she said.</p> + +<p>"My dear Miss Rowan, I only wish that it were in my power—"</p> + +<p>Then he stopped short. After all, it was not wise to tell her too much. +He raised her fingers to his lips, and avoided, with a sudden twinge of +self-reproach, the soft invitation of her timidly raised eyes.</p> + +<p>"You must sleep well," he said, as he pointed the way up the stairs. +"Remember, you can take what I have told you as a promise."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>A REPRIEVE</h3> + + +<p>Morning dawned upon a land still as though from exhaustion. The long +waves, sole remnant of the storm, came gliding in with a slow, lazy +motion, and broke noiselessly upon the firm sands. The sky was blue. Of +wind there was none at all. Inland, the flood-tide was still high. Only +the tops of the dykes were visible. Everywhere the sea had found its way +into unexpected places. Little patches of the marsh from which it had +just receded shone with a new glory—a green glitter like the sparkle of +emeralds. Deane, who was out early, for his bed had been no more than a +sofa, gave a little start of surprise as he opened the door and found +Winifred Rowan standing on a little knoll by the side of the flagstaff, +looking seaward.</p> + +<p>She turned towards him at once with the sound of the opening door. He +realized then, more completely than in the dusk of the evening, how +great the strain of these last few days had been,—the strain which had +driven her into this strange journey. The black rings under her eyes +seemed as though traced with a pencil, her cheeks were thinner, there +was something pathetic about the quick, startled look which flashed into +her eyes at the sound of Deane's approaching footsteps.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid," he said gravely, "that you have not slept."</p> + +<p>"As much as usual," she answered. "Tell me, what time do your letters +come?"</p> + +<p>He looked inland. "Generally about eight. They may be a little later +to-day."</p> + +<p>She nodded. "I must go back," she said vacantly. "When is there a +train?"</p> + +<p>It was impossible to ask her to stop, and yet he felt all the pathos of +sending her back to face alone the shadow of her terrible anxiety.</p> + +<p>"There is no hurry," he said. "We will look out the trains after +breakfast."</p> + +<p>"Are you—going to stay here?" she asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"If I thought," he answered, "that there was the slightest thing I could +do in London which I have not already done, I would go back by the first +train this morning, but, indeed, you must remember what I told you last +night. The matter is practically settled. In a few days he will know."</p> + +<p>"It is those few days," she said softly, "which are so terrible."</p> + +<p>It was hard to try and make use of any conventional phrase of +reassurance. Deane, remembering how intense, how real and startling a +thing this tragedy really was, found it hard, impossible, indeed.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," he asked, "do you live absolutely alone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" she told him. "There was a cousin who was with me for some time, +but she got a situation the other side of London, and had to move. I was +in a boarding-house," she continued, after a moment's hesitation, +"until—this happened. Then all the people—well, they meant to be +kind," she broke off, "but the woman who kept it thought I had better +leave, and I suppose she was right."</p> + +<p>"We will go in to breakfast," he said, a little abruptly.</p> + +<p>Every moment he seemed to realize more completely the pathos of her +position. They turned towards the house. Suddenly her fingers fell upon +his arm. "Who is that?" she asked, pointing landwards.</p> + +<p>Deane followed her outstretched finger. Riding along the top of one of +the dykes, as though unconscious of the sea flowing on either side, came +a boy on a bicycle. The bicycle was painted red, and the boy had on a +cap whose high peak gave it a semi-official look.</p> + +<p>"He is coming here," said Deane. "It may be my letters. Or I think—"</p> + +<p>He stopped short. He knew very well that it was a telegram the boy was +bringing, but he almost feared to say anything which would bring hope +into her face.</p> + +<p>"It isn't—it couldn't be a telegram?" she asked, a little wistfully.</p> + +<p>"It might be," he admitted. "I get a good many, of course."</p> + +<p>He told the lie unblushingly. All the time he watched, with an anxiety +which seemed incredible, for the coming of the messenger.</p> + +<p>"You must remember," he said, "that even if this should be a telegram, I +really do not expect any news yet."</p> + +<p>She said nothing. She stood with parted lips by his side, and they +watched the boy drive his bicycle along the sea-stained bank. Once he +skidded, and she gave a little scream. Deane laughed at her, surprised +to discover something unnatural in the sound.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "we will meet the boy here. I am afraid you will find a +few stock exchange quotations inside the envelope, even if he should +be—"</p> + +<p>"It is a telegraph boy," she interrupted. "I can see the wallet."</p> + +<p>She clung to his arm. Deane found himself patting her fragile hand with +his strong fingers. He drew her arm through his, and led her a few steps +further forward. The boy jumped off his bicycle and opened his wallet, +as he approached, with a familiar movement. Deane took the telegram into +his fingers and tore it open. His arm suddenly went round her waist.</p> + +<p>"Miss Rowan," he said, "be brave and I will tell you some good news. +See, you can read it for yourself. The reprieve is signed."</p> + +<p>She suddenly fell a dead weight upon his arm, and almost as quickly she +recovered herself. Her closed eyes were opened, she clung to him +passionately. "It is true?" she cried out.</p> + +<p>He held the telegram in front of her face. "Read," he said. "'<i>Reprieve +signed last night. Will be communicated to Rowan this morning. +Hardaway.</i>'—That is the name of my solicitor, so there is no possible +doubt about it. The matter is ended."</p> + +<p>He turned to the boy, who stood looking on with wooden face. Then he +drew a coin from his pocket. "My young friend," he said, "you are in +luck. Take that and go home to your breakfast."</p> + +<p>The boy looked at the sovereign and up at Deane. So far as his features +were capable of expression at all, they spoke of stupefaction. Then, as +though afraid that Deane might change his mind, he mounted his bicycle +and rode rapidly away.</p> + +<p>"It is a relief to you, of course," Deane said, trying to speak in as +matter-of-fact a tone as possible; "but this thing was a certainty all +the time. I have always tried to make you believe that. Come in now, and +let us have some breakfast. You ought to have an appetite."</p> + +<p>She followed him without a word. She seemed, indeed, like a person +dreaming, not wholly able to realize the things happening around her, +even the moments that passed. Deane waited upon her at breakfast, and +talked in a matter-of-fact way, accepting her monosyllabic answers as +natural things,—carrying on a conversation, too, with the man who +waited at the sideboard. By degrees, a more natural expression came into +her face. When at last the meal was over and the servant had left the +room, she burst suddenly into tears. Deane took her outside and placed +her in a chair, sitting by her side on the sands.</p> + +<p>"Now," he said, "that is all over."</p> + +<p>"When can I go back?" she asked suddenly. "They will let me see Basil. I +must go and tell him."</p> + +<p>"He knows, of course," Deane replied, "but naturally he will want to see +you. You can leave here in about an hour. I am not sure—perhaps I may +come with you."</p> + +<p>She sat there quietly, absolutely content to lie still and gaze out at +the sea. Presently Grant came out with a note, which Deane silently +opened. It was dated from The Cottage, Rakney.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Mr. Deane</span>,</p> + +<p>My niece knows, and she insists upon going to London at once. +We are all very much disturbed. If it is not troubling you too +much when you are passing this way, we should be so grateful if +you would call in for a minute.</p></blockquote> + +<p>Deane looked thoughtfully seaward, and his face hardened as he crumpled +the note up in his hand. Then he rose to his feet. "I am going in to see +about the trains for you," he said.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He hired a cart from the village, and they stood together on the +platform of the nearest railway station, an hour or so later. She laid +her arm upon his sleeve.</p> + +<p>"Will you stop for a moment, please?" she said. "I am afraid I must have +seemed ungracious. After all, I ought to be very grateful to you."</p> + +<p>He shook his head. "No!" he answered. "It is always I who must be your +debtor. I ought to have been firmer with your brother when I sent him to +this man Sinclair to make terms. It was a desperate enterprise, after +all, and I ought to have realized the danger of your brother being +tempted to use violence. To me he was nothing more than a unit of +humanity, and I took him at his word. If he had brought me the paper I +wanted, I was quite prepared to ask him no questions whatever, and he +would have been a rich man. I can't help feeling that in a sense I am +responsible for his present position and yours."</p> + +<p>She looked away from him. Her eyes were fixed upon the horizon. She +appeared to be steadily thinking the matter out. The wind blew little +wisps of fair hair over her face. Her eyes were steadfast, her forehead +a little wrinkled. She seemed to be endeavoring to arrive at a +conscientious decision.</p> + +<p>"No!" she said, after some time, "I cannot see that you are to blame. I +am sure that it never entered into your head that my brother might be +tempted to use violence."</p> + +<p>Deane looked away with a little frown. In his heart he knew very well +that he was not so sure! "Well," he said, "we will let that go. At any +rate, my responsibility to you remains. Tell me what I can do? How can I +help you?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head. "I am going back to my work," she said. "I need no +help."</p> + +<p>"Your work?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>She nodded, with a little sigh. "I am a typist," she said. "You know +what that means,—genteel starvation, long hours, gray days. Never mind, +I am almost used to it."</p> + +<p>"You need be a typist no longer unless you choose," he said. "Part of +what I promised to your brother belongs to you."</p> + +<p>She shook her head. "Don't speak of it!" she exclaimed. "I should feel +that it was blood money."</p> + +<p>"At least let me hear from you sometimes," he said. "Don't let me lose +sight of you altogether while your brother is unable to help you."</p> + +<p>She hesitated. Then, lifting her eyes to his, "I don't believe," she +said softly, "that you would tell me anything that was not true."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe that I should," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Then tell me this," she said, "honestly. When you made my brother that +offer, when you sent him to deal with this man Sinclair, can you tell me +that you had not an idea in your mind that he might be led on to do +something rash?"</p> + +<p>Deane hesitated. He was not a man of over-strict scruples, but he hated +lies. Somehow or other, it seemed to him impossible to look at this girl +and tell her anything that was not the truth.</p> + +<p>"I am not altogether sure," he answered. "At the back of my head there +was just the idea that your brother was desperate, that he would gain +what he wanted, somehow or other."</p> + +<p>She turned away, and walked a little way down the platform. The train +was already in the station. She entered a carriage and sat in the +furthest corner. "Thank you," she said. "I am glad that you have told me +the truth. Would you mind going away now, please?"</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," Deane said simply. "Remember that I only did what +ninety-nine men out of a hundred would have done in my place. I wanted +that paper, and your brother begged for just such an enterprise."</p> + +<p>She held out her hands. "If you please!" she said. "Good-bye!"</p> + +<p>Deane turned away. The girl was a little fool, of course. Yet as he +turned and watched the smoke of the train disappear, and thought of her +in her empty third-class carriage, alone, he was conscious of a sense of +acute depression—none the less acute because it was vague. He turned +back to the village, walking with heavy steps. It was as though a new +trouble had come into his life.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>A NEW DANGER</h3> + + +<p>Deane was shown into what was apparently the morning-room of the Sarsby +domicile by an open-mouthed and very country-looking domestic, who +regarded him all the time with unaffected curiosity. Mr. Sarsby was +sitting in an easy-chair, reading the <i>Times</i>. Directly he recognized +his visitor he showed signs of nervousness.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Mr. Deane!" he said, rising. "How do you do, Mr. Deane?"</p> + +<p>Deane shook hands. His host did not ask him to sit down, nor did he +himself resume his seat.</p> + +<p>"I looked in," Deane explained, "to know what your niece had decided to +do."</p> + +<p>"She has decided to go to London at once," Mr. Sarsby answered,—"at +once. It is very inconvenient for all of us. I am almost sorry that you +ever happened to point out the paragraph, especially as there seems to +be no property of any sort to be found."</p> + +<p>The door was suddenly opened and Ruby Sinclair entered. There was a +frown which was almost a scowl upon her dark, handsome face. Little Mr. +Sarsby seemed suddenly to have become a person of no importance.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Deane will excuse me," he said hurriedly, yet with a marked attempt +at stiffness. "I have to return the <i>Times</i>."</p> + +<p>He left the room. Deane looked after him with some surprise.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with your uncle?" he asked the girl.</p> + +<p>"He has just heard," she answered, "that a young lady from somewhere or +other spent the night out at the tower last night."</p> + +<p>Deane looked at her in amazement. "And what business is it of his?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," brusquely. "As a rule, gentlemen when they're living +alone don't have young lady visitors,—not to stay the night, at any +rate."</p> + +<p>Deane laughed. "The young lady in question," he said, "came to see me on +a very important matter. If you heard anything of the storm last night, +you would understand that it was scarcely possible for any one to have +found her way from the tower to the mainland after the flood-tide was +in."</p> + +<p>The girl nodded shortly. "It's not my business," she said. "I am glad +you came. I wanted to ask you something. Who is this man Rowan who +killed my uncle?"</p> + +<p>Deane shook his head slowly. "No one knows very much about him," he +said. "They were out in South Africa together. It was there, perhaps, +that their quarrel, if they had one, started."</p> + +<p>"It says in the <i>Times</i> this morning that he has been reprieved. Why?" +she asked fiercely. "Why don't they hang him?"</p> + +<p>"Because they came to the conclusion," he answered, "that there had been +a fight, and that it was not a deliberate murder."</p> + +<p>"They ought to have hanged him," she declared. "It was brutal—hideous!"</p> + +<p>"You are going to London, are you not?" he asked quietly.</p> + +<p>Her eyes flashed. "Yes!" she answered. "I am going. I am afraid it will +be too late. All the papers declare that my uncle's possessions were of +little value. He has been robbed. I am sure he has been robbed. His +letter told me that he would have plenty of money. He would not write +and tell me that if he had nothing."</p> + +<p>"You will be able to find out," Deane answered, a little coldly.</p> + +<p>"I shall find out," the girl declared. "I am going to a good lawyer. He +wrote as though he had something in his possession which was worth +money. It was for that, I am sure, that this man Rowan tried to kill +him. I shall find out all about it when I get there."</p> + +<p>"The man Rowan was arrested on the premises," Deane reminded her. "There +was no time for him to have taken anything away, and the room was locked +up by the police."</p> + +<p>"I don't care," she answered. "Oh! Can't you understand what this means +to me?" she cried, jumping up from the chair in which she had seated +herself a moment or so before. "I am starved for life here, starved for +the want of it," she cried. "I was never meant to live in a place like +this—a life like this! It isn't fair. Other girls have clothes and +jewels, and men to admire them, and go to theatres, and see the world. +Why shouldn't I? I will! I am going to London to find out what that man +killed my uncle for, and I mean never to come back here again."</p> + +<p>The girl was evidently in earnest. Her bosom was heaving, her dark eyes +were full of fire. Deane noticed the firm lines of her mouth, the crisp +determination of her speech, and he realized a new danger. This girl was +not one to be bribed or put off. Every word she had said she had meant. +There was a distinct change in her whole appearance since the last time +he had seen her. She was at once handsomer and less attractive. The +wistfulness of her few sad speeches to him had passed away. The vague +discontent seemed suddenly to have become focussed in a passionate anger +against this untoward stroke of fate.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Deane at length, rising as though about to leave, "I hope +you may discover, after all, that your uncle was a man of property."</p> + +<p>"Why won't you help me?" she asked suddenly. "You could if you would."</p> + +<p>"Could I?" he answered. "I wonder."</p> + +<p>"Of course you could," she declared, coming a little nearer to him. "I +suppose I seem a very ordinary discontented sort of creature to you, but +you haven't lived as many years as I have pushing against the walls of a +prison. I think I am one of those persons who would improve a good deal +with a little prosperity," she added, with a sudden smile which +transformed her face, a smile which was almost brilliant. "Why won't you +help me?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that you would like me to go to London for you, and search +through your uncle's effects?" Deane asked quietly. "If you gave me a +letter, I suppose I could do that."</p> + +<p>"Come with me, then," she begged. "I mean to do everything for myself, +but there are many little things I am ignorant about. If you would come +with me, I promise you," she added, looking into his eyes, "that you +would not find me ungrateful."</p> + +<p>"When are you going?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Monday morning," she answered.</p> + +<p>Deane walked to the window, and looked out for a moment at the tangled +wilderness of cottage flowers, which seemed to have been encouraged to +grow there in wild profusion—a brilliant spot of color, as he +remembered very well, from the sea line. In a day or so at most, this +girl might, if she realized her position, or if she were properly +advised, be in a position to bring ruin upon him. An alliance with her +was obviously the very best thing that could happen for him. Yet he felt +a certain distrust, a certain unexplained reluctance to accepting her +overtures. If she discovered her power, she would drive a hard +bargain—he knew that well enough. If she did not discover it—</p> + +<p>He turned away and faced her suddenly. "Yes!" he said, "I'll help you if +I can. We'll go to London together on Monday morning."</p> + +<p>A curious look came into her face. She drew him out of the room. "Come," +she said, "I won't ask you to stay to tea, because my aunt thinks that +you are a most improper person. I'll walk with you back across the +marshes. I want you to tell me what you really think, and I want to show +you the one letter I received from my uncle...."</p> + +<p>She read the letter to him as they walked side by side on the top of the +dyke path, which was high enough now from the receding waste of waters. +The air was unusually salt. Great masses of seaweed had been brought in +and left by the ebbing tide. The wind had freshened since the morning. +She walked on in supreme disregard of her disordered hair and skirts.</p> + +<p>"You see," she said, "he writes distinctly as one who has, or expects to +have, money. Listen! 'I did no particular good out there,'" she read, +"'but I have brought something home with me which will mean a fortune of +some sort or another. I expect you have had quite enough of your country +life, and you won't object to coming and sharing it with me. I am rather +a rough sort, and I have a few vices that your respected uncle Sarsby +knows all about, but I fancy you will get a better time with me than +with that solemn old prig. I'd like to do what I can for you, though we +haven't seen much of one another, but your mother was the best sister a +man ever had, and for her sake I look upon you as the only relative I've +got worth counting.'"</p> + +<p>She looked up at him eagerly. "Now tell me," she asked, "would he have +written that if he hadn't something—jewels, or estate, or something of +that sort, which he knew was going to bring him in money?"</p> + +<p>"It doesn't sound so," Deane admitted.</p> + +<p>She thrust the letter back into her pocket. "You will help me," she +said, her face glowing, her eyes full of anticipation. "We will go +through his papers carefully. We will find out, somehow or other, what +he meant. Oh! It is good to think that I have only a few more days to +eat and to sleep in this ghastly wilderness."</p> + +<p>"You may be disappointed," he reminded her.</p> + +<p>"Never!" she answered. "My uncle was no fool. What he had I shall +discover."</p> + +<p>"You may be disappointed," he continued, "in the things which wealth +itself brings you. You may find life not so very much more wonderful a +thing in the city than here in the wilderness."</p> + +<p>"Don't you believe it!" she exclaimed, with a scornful laugh. "I am not +that sort. I am not an artist who can sit about here for days and potter +about with a paintbox, and look at a sunset or a streak of wild +lavender, or the shimmering of the yellow sands, as though it were +something so marvelous that life itself stood still while they realized +it. I like beautiful places and beautiful things, but I hate the +impersonality of it all. I want to feel the touch of lace and furs and +fine linen, to eat soft food, to listen to music, to ride when I want +to, to sleep when I want to, to have friends who admire me, men friends +worth speaking to, different from these yokels round here. I suppose I +have got it in my blood," she added, with a little laugh. "The +milk-and-water ways of life don't attract me. I want the big things."</p> + +<p>"Do you know what the big things are?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"When I have found my way where I mean to find it, I shall know," she +answered. "Here, one might live till one's hair was gray and one's looks +had passed, live—if you call it living—and never once see over the +wall. When I have come so that I can see over the wall, then I will tell +you, if you are still curious, what the big things of life are for me!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>AN EXPENSIVE KEY</h3> + + +<p>It was three o'clock in the morning when Deane softly opened the door of +his bedroom in the Hotel Universal, and looked up and down the side +corridor. There was no one in sight, no sound of any one passing in the +main corridor, a few yards away. For several moments he stood and +listened intently. Then he moved a few yards to the left, and stopped +opposite another door. He scrutinized the number,—27. It was the number +he sought. He felt in his pocket for the keys which he had collected +from various sources. One by one he tried them in the lock. In vain! Not +one fitted. He tried the handle of the door softly. There was no doubt +about it. The door was securely fastened. He recognized at once the +failure of his first attempt, and returned to his room. His bed was as +yet undisturbed. He had not even changed the tweed travelling suit in +which he had journeyed up from Rakney. It was a fool's errand, after +all, he thought, on which he had come. Yet somehow or other, after his +conversation with Ruby Sinclair, after he had realized how thorough her +search would indeed be, how convinced she was that somewhere amongst the +effects of the dead man lay the secret of wealth, he had realized more +completely than ever before the danger in which he stood. Granted, even, +that no suspicion of complicity with Rowan attached to him, his +financial ruin would be none the less complete if that paper should ever +come into the hands of people who understood its worth. Never had the +situation seemed so clear, so dangerous, as that night after he had +walked home with the girl and turned his face again toward the sea. +Something in the very desolation of the marshes seemed to help thought, +perhaps by the absence of any distracting object. There was a sense of +breadth about the place. As he walked, with only the murmur of the sea +in his ears, he saw things clearly. He saw himself in the prime of life, +suddenly flung from the place to which he had climbed, flung down to +join all those poor millions of strugglers whose first foot has yet to +be planted upon the first rung of the great ladder. He was too old to +begin at the beginning. There was no place for him down amongst those on +whom failure had already placed her mark. He could not have borne it. To +be stripped of his riches, his name, the position of which he was +without a doubt proud, to suffer the breaking of his engagement, the +downfall of all his ambitions,—the very thought of it was intolerable. +And in the deep silence of that night, as he listened to the gurgling of +the sea below, and the faint movement of the wind across the level land, +he realized, with a sudden pain at his heart, the danger in which he +stood. In three days the girl would be there. Scotland Yard would send +one of its myrmidons with her. She would have free access to all the +dead man's belongings. She would take with her a lawyer. Every scrap of +paper the man had possessed, every trifling object, would have its +value. The Little Anna Gold-Mine was world famous. There would be no +chance of their overlooking a single document bearing such a name.</p> + +<p>Before he had reached his strange dwelling-place he had come to a +resolution. Early next morning, stopping only to leave a note telling +the girl where to find him when she arrived in London, he was off by the +early train. By means of a little diplomacy he had succeeded in gaining +a room within a few doors of the one in which Sinclair had been killed. +Only a few feet of wall separated him from the room in which, somewhere +or other, was to be found the paper he coveted. Well, his first attempt +had been a failure. He knew quite well that the place was paraded by +night watchmen, and that any attempt to gain an entrance into the room +by orthodox means would result in prompt discovery. There was nothing to +be done until the morrow. He threw himself upon the bed and tried to +sleep. Waking with the first gleam of daylight, he took off his clothes, +bathed, and made a leisurely toilet. Then he rang for the <i>valet de +chambre</i>. The man was a pleasant-faced, loquacious sort of fellow. Deane +talked to him for a while, and then made his effort.</p> + +<p>"Wasn't it upon this floor," he asked, "that a murder took place +lately?"</p> + +<p>The valet looked around him for a moment before answering. "Yes, sir!" +he replied. "In the very next room. We are not allowed to talk about it +more than we can help."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. All the time he was watching the man, wondering how far he +dared go. "Look here," he said "you seem an honest fellow. I suppose +you'd have no objection to bettering yourself in life?"</p> + +<p>"No objection in the slightest, sir," the man answered.</p> + +<p>"I am on the staff of a newspaper," Deane said slowly, "and my people +are particularly anxious that I should inspect the interior of the room +in which that murder was committed. Your people downstairs have +absolutely refused to allow me to do anything of the sort. I have taken +this room in the hope of being able to get in there. Do you think there +is any chance for me?"</p> + +<p>"I should say not, sir," the man answered. "The door is locked, and Mr. +Hartshorn himself, the manager, has taken the key."</p> + +<p>"There isn't such a thing as a duplicate, I suppose?" Deane asked.</p> + +<p>"Not that I know of, sir," the man answered.</p> + +<p>"You couldn't suggest any means by which I could enter that room, even +if it were an affair of say fifty pounds to you?" Deane asked calmly.</p> + +<p>The man started. Fifty pounds was a great deal of money. On the other +hand, the fifty pounds would take some earning. "I am afraid I can't, +sir," he said. "There is no duplicate key that I know of, and in any +case I dare not run the risk."</p> + +<p>"Fifty pounds is not enough, perhaps," Deane said. "Money is no +particular object to me. If you said that you thought you could provide +me with the key for a hundred pounds, I would willingly pay it."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid not, sir," the man answered, turning as though to leave the +room.</p> + +<p>"Two hundred pounds!" Deane said.</p> + +<p>"It isn't a matter of money, sir," the man declared. "I daren't do it. I +should be certain to be found out, and I should be sent away without a +character."</p> + +<p>"I will take you into my service," Deane said.</p> + +<p>The man shook his head. "Thank you, sir," he said. "My character is +worth a good deal to me. I think I'll keep out of this, if you don't +mind."</p> + +<p>Deane called him back imperatively. "Let us understand one another," he +said, drawing something from his pocket. "Are you going down to the +manager to tell him what I have told you?"</p> + +<p>The man hesitated. Deane held out a five-pound note. "There is no reason +for you to do so, you know," Deane said, "just as there is no reason why +you should not accept this tip."</p> + +<p>The valet hesitated, and finally accepted the five-pound note which +Deane was holding out.</p> + +<p>"I am sure I don't know why I should take it, sir," he said, "but there +is no reason, after all, why I should say anything of what you have been +talking about, downstairs."</p> + +<p>Deane sat in his chair, waiting. There was a knock at the door and a +chambermaid entered, to retire at once in confusion. Deane looked at her +curiously. Something in her figure and her start had seemed familiar to +him. He got up and rang the bell. In a moment or two a waiter appeared. +He was obviously a German, dark and sallow. He spoke imperfect English, +and there was a gleam of cupidity in his eyes which to Deane seemed +hopeful.</p> + +<p>"Bring me some tea at once," he ordered,—"nothing to eat."</p> + +<p>The man departed, and reappeared in a few minutes.</p> + +<p>"Anything else, sir?" he asked, after he had set down the tray.</p> + +<p>Deane did not answer him directly. "By the way," he said finally, +"wasn't there a murder committed in one of these rooms?"</p> + +<p>"It was next door, sir," the man answered.</p> + +<p>"The room is locked up?" Deane asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir!"</p> + +<p>"That is a pity," Deane remarked. "Do you know who has the key? I should +very much like just to have a look around."</p> + +<p>The waiter shook his head. "The key is downstairs in Mr. Hartshorn's +office, sir, and we have no duplicate here. The police who came, they +desired that no one should enter the room until they had removed the +effects to Scotland Yard."</p> + +<p>"So I was told downstairs," Deane remarked. "Do you suppose," he +continued, "that it would be possible to get hold of a duplicate key? I +should like very much to see the interior of that room—if possible to +take a photograph of it for my newspaper. I am willing to pay."</p> + +<p>The waiter shook his head reluctantly. "I do not think that there is a +duplicate key," he said, with his eyes fixed upon Deane's right hand.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you could make inquiries," Deane suggested smoothly. "I want to +get a photograph of the inside of the room for my people, if possible. +It would be worth quite a great deal of money."</p> + +<p>The man was impressed. "I will go away and see," he said slowly.</p> + +<p>"Keep this to yourself," Deane ordered. "I don't want it all over the +hotel."</p> + +<p>The man made a sign of assent and withdrew. Deane rang for the +chambermaid. Once, twice, three times he rang, without response. Then a +middle-aged person came shuffling in, very much out of breath. Deane +gave her some trivial order.</p> + +<p>"By the way," he asked, "are you the chambermaid who waits on this +room?"</p> + +<p>"No!" she answered, with some hesitation. "The regular chambermaid is +down at her breakfast."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. "Will you tell her," he asked, "that I should like to see +her as soon as she is up? I want to see about some laundry," he added.</p> + +<p>The woman disappeared. Deane was left alone once more. He unpacked some +books, and made himself comfortable in an easy-chair. He was not able +even to descend to the smoking-room. Mr. Stirling Deane, it was well +known, had left town for Scotland. Mr. B. Stocks, who had arrived at the +hotel the night before and taken this room, was a person who had +particular reasons for not desiring to be seen even in the precincts of +the hotel. Deane settled himself down to read—a somewhat difficult +task. By the time he had smoked several cigarettes, there was a soft tap +at the door and the waiter reappeared.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, sir," he said.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," Deane answered.</p> + +<p>"I have found a key in the service-room which I think would open Number +27."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. "Very well," he said, "let me have the use of it to-night, +and I will give you twenty pounds."</p> + +<p>The man moistened his lips with his tongue. Twenty pounds was a +wonderful sum! But—!</p> + +<p>"There is a good deal of risk about it, sir," the man said slowly, "and +I have to divide with the night-porter, who told me where to find this +key."</p> + +<p>"Very well," Deane answered, "I will give you twenty pounds each,—no +more."</p> + +<p>The man placed the key silently in his hands, and Deane counted out +eight five-pound notes.</p> + +<p>"If I were you, sir," he said, "if you want to be alone in the room and +be sure of no one seeing you, I should use it between four and five +to-morrow morning. Everyone is off duty then except the night-porter."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. "By the way," he said, "do you know anything about the +chambermaid on this floor—the young, slim one?"</p> + +<p>The waiter shook his head. "She has only just come."</p> + +<p>"Do you know her name?" asked Deane.</p> + +<p>The man smiled. "It is always the same," he answered,—"always Mary."</p> + +<p>"She would not be allowed in 27?" Deane asked. "She would not be likely +to be there to clean it out, or anything of that sort?"'</p> + +<p>The man shook his head again. "No one is allowed to enter it," he said. +"No one has been in but the detectives and lawyers."</p> + +<p>Deane dismissed the man and settled down once more to his reading. He +found it difficult, however, to concentrate his thoughts. The key was on +the chair by his side. It was all he could do to restrain himself from +stealing down the corridor and commencing his search.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>THE SEARCH</h3> + + +<p>Deane remembered afterwards, with a painful exactness, every step which +he took in his stockinged feet down the dimly-lit corridor. Only one of +the electric lights had been left burning, and that one was encased in a +shade of red glass, and was set in the wall facing him. A few seconds +ago he had heard Big Ben strike four o'clock. For the last two hours he +had sat in his room and waited. Time seemed to have stood still. In that +two hours he had seen himself stripped of all his possessions, +dishonored, friendless. He had seen himself married to Lady Olive, +richer and more prosperous than ever, a successful politician, a man on +whom the eyes of the world were turned always with respect and approval. +Hope and fear had swung in his mind like the movement of a pendulum. All +that he needed was that paper! If once he could see it burning into +white ashes, or torn into a hundred pieces, he knew that there was +nothing in the world strong enough to bar his progress.</p> + +<p>Four o'clock at last! At the sound of the hour he had sprung to his +feet. Before the echoes of the last stroke had died away he was +absolutely committed to his enterprise. For a moment he stood outside +the door of his room, which he had left ajar. He looked toward the main +corridor and listened intently; there was no sound to be heard. The +night watchman—if, indeed, he were making his rounds—was nowhere in +that vicinity. In all the great hotel, not a soul seemed to be stirring.</p> + +<p>Deane drew one long breath, and without a second's hesitation stole +forward until he stood in front of Number 27. Once more he looked around +him. The lights from all the transoms in sight had been extinguished. +There was only that dimly burning electric light at the end of the +corridor, to dissipate the gloom. He fitted the key into the lock and +turned it. The door swung open. Deane closed it behind him, turned on +the electric light, and gazed around him with fast beating heart. He was +there at last! Within this room, if anywhere, was his salvation!</p> + +<p>It was, after all, a very ordinary hotel apartment. There was a small +single bed, a wardrobe, a toilet table and chest of drawers, a hard, +uninviting-looking sofa, and an easy-chair with a stiff back, and +armless. Upon the bed were laid out a number of articles of wearing +apparel, and upon the floor were two empty portmanteaus. Upon the +dressing-table were a number of papers, arranged with some appearance of +method. The toilet things were still in their places. Everything was +arranged in a stiff and precise condition. It was evident that official +hands had been at work.</p> + +<p>Deane's rapid glance around lasted barely a few seconds. Then he moved +toward the dressing-table and commenced a careful search amongst the +papers there. One by one he glanced them through,—a bill for clothes, a +restaurant account, half-a-dozen counterfoils of theatre and music-hall +tickets, an account for wines and cigars consumed on the steamer +<i>Arizona</i>, homeward bound from Cape Town. There was the address of a +manicurist, a programme of the <i>Empire</i>. Very soon Deane had come to the +end of them. From the first to the last, there was not a single document +there of any interest or importance.</p> + +<p>He turned away toward the clothes which were laid out upon the bed. One +by one he lifted them up and laid them down again, until he came to the +gray suit which the man Sinclair had been wearing on the day when he had +made his eventful visit to the city. Deane held up the coat, and a +little exclamation almost escaped from his lips as he saw where in a +certain place the lining showed signs of stitching, as though something +had been sewn inside the pocket. He thrust his hand there. There was an +opening, but it was empty! He tried the other side, but in vain. Then he +began slowly to realize that this search of his was doomed to end in +failure. There was nowhere else to look. He glanced at his watch. +Although it seemed to him that he had been in the little room for hours, +he had indeed been there for barely five minutes.</p> + +<p>He moved toward the door, opened it softly, and listened outside in the +corridor. There was no sound of anyone stirring, no sign of life or +movement anywhere. He returned to the room and renewed his search. One +by one he lifted up the different articles of clothing and felt in the +pockets. His search was rewarded with the discovery of a single +halfpenny in an odd waistcoat pocket. He left the clothes alone then and +went through the papers once more, with a similar lack of success. +Softly he opened all the drawers, ransacked the wardrobe, searched every +inch of the room. When at last he desisted, it was because there was +nowhere else to look, nothing else to attempt. He stood up in the middle +of the room and drew a little breath. He had found nothing, nothing had +transpired to compensate in any way for the risk which he had run. Yet +there was one consolation. It was scarcely possible that Ruby Sinclair +could be more successful than he. The paper which might make her fortune +and ruin him was not here.</p> + +<p>Deane turned at last toward the door. There was no need for him to +prolong the risk he ran. He would return to his room, and leave the +hotel later in the morning.</p> + +<p>He took a few cautious steps toward the door. Suddenly he stopped short +and held his breath. Very slowly he turned his head, and listened +intently. Someone was stirring in the next room. There was a connecting +door, hidden by a curtain, and even as he stood there he heard the +handle shake as though it were being turned. He leaned forward and +turned out the electric light. Standing there in the darkness he +distinctly heard a key inserted in the lock of the hidden door. He heard +it softly opened and the curtain pushed back. There was someone else in +the room, someone else whom he could not see, someone else who also took +an interest in the effects of the murdered man!</p> + +<p>There was an interval of several seconds—it seemed minutes—it might +well have been hours. Then the stealthy footsteps came towards him. A +little stiff rustle of draperies proclaimed the sex of the intruder. +Without a second's warning, the electric light flashed out all over the +room. The girl would have screamed, but Deane, who was prepared, leaned +forward, and his hand suddenly closed over her mouth. She looked at him +with dilated eyes.</p> + +<p>"You!" she exclaimed. "You!"</p> + +<p>"Good God!" he answered. "Winifred Rowan!"</p> + +<p>Their mutual surprise was something paralyzing. They drew apart and +looked at one another as they might have done at ghosts.</p> + +<p>"What do you want here?" he asked hoarsely.</p> + +<p>Was it his fancy, he wondered, or did her lips curl for a moment in +something like mockery?</p> + +<p>"I came to repay a debt," she whispered. "I came to find the paper which +you are afraid may fall into someone else's hands. I came to search for +it, but it is not here."</p> + +<p>"And I," Deane answered.</p> + +<p>"You have found it, perhaps?" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>He shook his head. "It has gone!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he never had it," she whispered.</p> + +<p>Deane shook his head. He was being led away by the excitement, the +tenseness of the moment,—the unexpectedness of the whole situation. "He +showed it to me," he answered, "only just before that night."</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>The monosyllable seemed to leave her lips dry. She moistened them with +her tongue, and moved a little towards him. There was something in her +face which he could not recognize. And then, before further speech was +possible, they heard something which, coming so unexpectedly against +such a background of silence, terrified them both. An electric bell +somewhere close at hand was ringing out its sharp summons into the +night.</p> + +<p>"What is that?" Deane asked quickly.</p> + +<p>"Someone is ringing from one of the numbers opposite," she answered. +"Get back to your room quickly. They have heard us talking. Someone will +be in here to search."</p> + +<p>"But you?" he objected.</p> + +<p>"I am safe," she answered. "I am on duty on this floor. I have something +to do in the next room. Quick!"</p> + +<p>He slipped from the door. The little side corridor was as yet empty. For +a second or two he listened intently. There were no footsteps as yet +audible in the main corridor. In half-a-dozen swift strides he reached +the door of his own room, turned the handle, and passed inside. Almost +immediately there were footsteps in the corridor outside. The bell of +the room opposite was answered. Again silence! The seconds grew into +minutes, and the minutes passed away. Then his door was suddenly opened +from the outside, softly and silently. Winifred Rowan stood there on the +threshold of his room, with the handle of the door still in her hand, +and to his fancy there was something ominous in the way she looked at +him.</p> + +<p>"You need search no more," she said. "I have found the paper."</p> + +<p>He held out his hand. "The reward is yours!" he declared.</p> + +<p>She drew away from him. "I shall claim it very soon," she said. "Ring +your bell at seven o'clock, when I shall be on duty, and I will bring it +to you. Hush!"</p> + +<p>She glided away and closed the door. Deane drew a long breath. So it was +over, then,—over, and he had won!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>IN DOUBT</h3> + + +<p>Punctually at seven o'clock next morning Deane rang his bell. Once more +the fat old lady entered, with her amiable smile and slow movements.</p> + +<p>"Some tea, sir?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Deane looked at her for a moment without speaking. "When does the other +chambermaid come on duty?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"She ought to be on now," was the answer, "but she hasn't come. I've +just sent the 'boots' up to her room."</p> + +<p>Deane ordered some hot water and lay still for half-an-hour. Then he +rang the bell again. The same woman came.</p> + +<p>"Would you like your tea, sir?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"If you please," he answered.</p> + +<p>She was already half-way out of the door before he stopped her.</p> + +<p>"You are still on duty, then?" he said.</p> + +<p>"The other chambermaid can't be found, sir," she answered. "Her bed +hasn't been slept in, and she doesn't seem to be anywhere about the +place."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. It was, after all, perhaps the most sensible thing she +could do to get clear away! "Send me my tea at eight o'clock," he +ordered, "and let me have a bath at once."</p> + +<p>"The valet shall come and tell you when it is ready, sir," she answered.</p> + +<p>He passed a tip across to the woman, who accepted it. "Tell the waiter +when he brings the tea to give me my bill," he said.</p> + +<p>In an hour's time Deane had left the hotel. He had seen nothing more of +Winifred Rowan, and on the whole he was disposed to applaud her +precaution. He drove at once to his rooms, where Grant, his man, was +already installed.</p> + +<p>"I shall catch the mid-day train to Scotland, Grant," he announced. +"Telephone up for seats and sleeping-berths. Also telephone to the +office, and tell them to ring up here at once if a young lady should +make any inquiries for me. Perhaps they had better send her on here."</p> + +<p>He went out and did some shopping. The sun was shining, and a soft west +wind blowing. London, which seems to hold its populace longer than any +other great city, was gay, almost joyous. He had to elbow his way +through crowds as he passed along Piccadilly. The streets and shops were +thronged. The sky above was blue. The rare sunshine seemed to make +cheerful even this most sombre of cities.</p> + +<p>Deane had the feeling of a man who has escaped from a great danger,—who +has been able to throw off a heavy weight. This miserable document of +Sinclair's was as good as in his possession! After all, Basil Rowan was +not suffering in vain. The girl should have every penny that he had +promised her brother! Her way in life should be made easy! It was a +very small price, indeed, to be free from such torture as he had +suffered during the last few weeks. He bought presents a little +recklessly—presents for Olive—something, too, for Winifred Rowan, a +gold cigarette-case for himself. He ordered a great basket of flowers to +take with him to Scotland, and paid a visit to his gunmaker's. Then he +returned to his chambers, fully expecting to have some news of Winifred +Rowan.</p> + +<p>"Any one rung up?" he asked his man.</p> + +<p>"No one, sir, of any importance," was the answer.</p> + +<p>"Did you ask the office about Miss Rowan?"</p> + +<p>"No young lady at all has inquired for you there, sir," Grant answered.</p> + +<p>Deane was a little surprised, but after all what did it matter? He +travelled up to Scotland with a lighter heart than he had carried for +months. Lady Olive, who met him early in the morning at the small +wayside station which was nearest to her father's seat, was amazed at +his vivacity.</p> + +<p>"I expected to find you a pale, worn-out thing," she remarked, as their +motor-car climbed the white, stone-bordered road which crossed the +heather-covered mountain. "You don't look as though you needed a change +at all."</p> + +<p>"I've found so swift a tonic, you see," he answered, pressing her hand.</p> + +<p>She laughed gayly. This was more the man as he had been before the days +of their engagement! "I think it is the smell of the powder," she said. +"You men are all like schoolboys for your holidays. Father says that the +birds are much too wild, and that it will be all even you can do to hit +them."</p> + +<p>Deane smiled. "There is nothing in the world," he answered, "which I +want to do so much as to lie up there in the heather and close my eyes, +and feel the sun and the wind."</p> + +<p>"In other words," she said, "you are lazy!"</p> + +<p>"Is that laziness?" he asked. "I don't think so."</p> + +<p>"Rest, then," she said.</p> + +<p>"Ah! That is a very different thing!" he replied. "We all need rest."</p> + +<p>"Especially you," she said, "who carry about with you always the memory +of some things from which you can never escape."</p> + +<p>He looked at her quickly, but it was obvious that her speech was wholly +unpremeditated.</p> + +<p>"I often wonder," she said calmly, "when I see you in the evenings, how +you manage to shake off all your anxieties so easily, for I suppose," +she continued, "that success, like everything else, carries always its +anxieties."</p> + +<p>"Sometimes more than failure," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Well," she continued, "it doesn't seem possible to associate the word +'failure' with you. Some day you must tell me the whole story of your +life. I can scarcely believe that there has ever been a time when you +haven't succeeded in anything you undertook."</p> + +<p>He laughed grimly. "You should have been with me in Africa," he said, +"after the fighting was over. We expected to go about picking up gold +almost on the streets."</p> + +<p>"You were too sanguine," she laughed.</p> + +<p>"It was hard enough work to live," he answered. "I tried many +things,—failures, all of them!"</p> + +<p>"Until the Little Anna Gold-Mine," she remarked.</p> + +<p>"Until the Little Anna Gold-Mine," he assented, "and that, at first, +seemed hopeless enough. The mine had been deserted twice. The natives +there had a name for it which means the Grave of Dead Hopes!"</p> + +<p>They turned into the avenue, and the house was at once visible, standing +on the edge of a lake, large and a little bare. The lawns and gardens +were brilliant with color, and the hills on the other side of the water +were purple with heather.</p> + +<p>"Well, here is all the rest you want," she said. "We haven't a neighbor +within six miles, and a most harmless lot of guests."</p> + +<p>He drew a long sigh of content. The tragedy, indeed, of the last few +weeks seemed to lie far behind in some other world!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>RUBY IS DISAPPOINTED</h3> + + +<p>The solicitor hung up his silk hat, motioned his two visitors to seats, +and took his accustomed place in front of his writing-table. "I am +afraid," he said, turning toward Mr. Sarsby, but in reality addressing +his niece, "that your visit to town has been, in some respects, a +disappointment to you, especially," he continued, "bearing in mind the +letter which you, my dear young lady, have just shown me. Still, there +is no getting away from facts. We have carefully examined every paper +and every portion of the personal belongings of the deceased, and I am +afraid we must come to the decision that there is nothing in those +effects worth taking away."</p> + +<p>"It certainly seems not," Mr. Sarsby assented. "I must say that from the +first I have discouraged my niece in her expectations. I never knew +Sinclair, but everyone spoke of him as being a shiftless and impossible +sort of person."</p> + +<p>The lawyer nodded. "From the state of his effects," he remarked, "that +seems very possible, and yet one cannot help wondering what it was that +he had in his mind when he wrote to your niece,—what it was, too, that +induced him to take rooms in a hotel like the Universal."</p> + +<p>Ruby Sinclair rose slowly to her feet. She came to the table before +which the solicitor was seated, and she looked down at him with blazing +eyes. "Can't you see, you two," she exclaimed,—"can't you understand +that the man has been robbed of something? He would never have written +me in that strain if he had not believed that he possessed something +which was at any rate worth money, and a great deal of money. He would +never, with only twenty pounds in his pocket, have gone to a hotel like +the Universal, drunk champagne there, and lived as though his means were +unlimited. These things are ridiculous!"</p> + +<p>"But, my dear young lady," the lawyer commenced,—</p> + +<p>"Can't you see the truth?" she exclaimed. "My uncle was murdered. Why? +What was the motive? Robbery! Do you think that it was for the sake of +the twenty pounds or so that he had on him, and which were found +untouched? The man Rowan was in South Africa with my uncle,—he knew his +business. It was no ordinary quarrel, this. I tell you that Rowan robbed +my uncle of something—I don't know what—but something which was the +backbone of this letter!" she exclaimed, dashing it upon the +table,—"something which justified him in staying at the Universal, +something which must be found!"</p> + +<p>The lawyer nodded. "That point of view," he admitted, "has occurred to +me, I must confess. And yet, you must remember that the man Rowan was +arrested upon the premises. He had nothing with him which could by any +chance have belonged to the dead man."</p> + +<p>The girl stamped her foot impatiently. "Have you read the evidence at +the trial?" she asked. "It is very clear that this man Rowan was no +fool. Whatever he wanted from my uncle, he secured and disposed of +before he was arrested. The last thing he would do would be to carry +about with him on his person anything which he had taken from my uncle."</p> + +<p>"What you suggest may be possible, of course," the lawyer remarked, +"but, unfortunately, we have not the slightest indication of it. The man +Rowan was not seen to speak to anyone in the hotel, and it is known that +he did not leave it after the quarrel until his arrest."</p> + +<p>"And you are content to leave it like that?" the girl asked.</p> + +<p>The lawyer shrugged his shoulders. "It is not that we are content," he +said, a little stiffly, "but there certainly seems to be no cause for +any further action."</p> + +<p>The girl turned to Mr. Sarsby. "We had better go," she said abruptly. +"There is nothing to be gained by staying here."</p> + +<p>The solicitor accompanied them to the door. "Miss Sinclair," he said, "I +can sympathize with your disappointment, but I do beg of you not to go +looking for a mare's nest. It is disappointing, of course, to find that +your uncle was practically a pauper, especially after that letter of +his, but, on the other hand, men in his position, I am afraid, are +proverbially given to exaggeration."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," the girl said sharply, "I think that we will not talk about +this any more."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sarsby and his niece walked slowly up a little side street which led +into the Strand. The former, who was sharing to some extent his niece's +disappointment, found compensation in the thought of a speedy return to +Rakney.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid, Ruby," he said, "that you are very much disappointed, and +it seems to me that we have wasted our railway fares to London. It can't +be helped. We may as well make the best of it and get back at once. I +can see no reason why we should not catch the three o'clock train. I +shall be able to play my match, then, with Colonel Forsitt to-morrow +morning."</p> + +<p>"You can go and play your match if you want to," the girl answered. "I +am going to stay in London."</p> + +<p>"To stay in London?" Mr. Sarsby repeated.</p> + +<p>"I mean it," the girl answered. "I don't mean to be robbed. I mean to +stay here and find out why this man Rowan quarrelled with my uncle, and +what my uncle meant when he wrote to me about a fortune. You go back, if +you like," she continued. "Give me five pounds to stay here with, and +I'll come back when I've found out the truth."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sarsby was aghast. He looked at his niece with wide-open eyes. What +had come to her that she should speak of such a sum as five pounds +almost carelessly!</p> + +<p>"I shall do nothing of the sort," he answered decidedly, "nor shall I +allow you to stay up here alone—a most improper proceeding, I should +call it,—quite unheard of. We will go back to the hotel, pay our bill, +have a little lunch at an A B C shop, and catch the three o'clock train +home."</p> + +<p>"If you won't let me have the five pounds," she answered, "all right. +Good-bye!"</p> + +<p>She turned abruptly away, and before his astonished eyes plunged into +the stream of traffic, making for the other side of the street. He +followed her as soon as he saw a safe opening, and found her on the +point of entering a small restaurant.</p> + +<p>"My dear Ruby," he exclaimed sharply, "you are mad! How dared you leave +me like that?"</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders. "I have been mad," she answered, "to live +that awful life down at Rakney for these last few years. I've had enough +of it, uncle. I am here, and I am going to stay here. If I can't succeed +in what I am going to undertake, I shall try and find some work."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sarsby gasped. It was a wholly unexpected revolt. "You mean to say +that you don't want to come back to Rakney?"</p> + +<p>"Never, if I can help it!" the girl answered. "I hate the place. I hate +the life. I am tired, sick to death of it all!" she cried passionately, +"and I would as soon come up here and live for a week or two, and then +throw myself into the Thames, as go on with it any longer. If you won't +let me have the five pounds," she continued, "I have enough jewelry with +me to fetch about that. The money would only mean a week or two longer."</p> + +<p>"But where would you live?" he exclaimed. "What would you do?"</p> + +<p>"That is my affair," she answered simply. "First of all, though, I +should go to Mr. Deane, and I should ask him to help me. Any man of +common sense would agree with me at once in believing that my uncle was +robbed."</p> + +<p>"But your aunt?" Mr. Sarsby exclaimed weakly.</p> + +<p>"My aunt can get on very well without me," the girl declared.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sarsby felt that a situation had arisen with which he was unable to +cope. The only thing that occurred to him to do was to temporize. "You +will have to come back to the hotel," he said, "to get your luggage. We +will talk it over on the way there."</p> + +<p>"Just as you please," the girl answered carelessly, "only so far as I am +concerned, there is nothing to talk over."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sarsby hailed a 'bus which deposited them presently within a few +yards of the semi-private hotel in Montague Street at which they were +staying. It was one of those establishments which, from being a small +boarding-house, had blossomed out into a hotel, with all the outward +signs of its more prosperous rivals. There was an entrance hall, a +reception office, and two long-limbed giants in light blue livery, who +spoke every language except their own. The people who frequented it were +either Americans, or people from the isolated country places, such as +Mr. Sarsby and his niece.</p> + +<p>"I am not going to talk anything over until I have had some lunch," the +girl declared. "We need not go out. It is only eighteenpence each here. +You can afford that, especially as you are probably going to be rid of +me forever."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sarsby frowned. "We will lunch here if you prefer it," he said. "I +am not aware that I have hesitated at anything on the score of expense."</p> + +<p>The girl laughed. There was a note in her mirth which was strange to Mr. +Sarsby. He relinquished his well-worn silk hat to a boy in buttons, +straightened his old-fashioned tie before a passing mirror, and led the +girl into the dining-room. The size of the apartment, the number of the +waiters, the indefinable sense of being in a great city, which had +oppressed him since the train had rolled into the terminus on his +arrival, once more had its effect upon him. He felt sure that his niece +understood nothing of what she was talking about. He drank bottled beer +with his lunch, and soon summoned up courage to reopen the matter.</p> + +<p>"It was a very good idea of yours, my dear Ruby," he said, "to lunch +here. I am sure that for the money it is a most excellent meal."</p> + +<p>She gave vent to a little interjection which might have meant anything. +If he had not been so sure that she was unused to such magnificence, he +would have believed that it was intended to indicate a certain amount of +contempt at her entertainment.</p> + +<p>"And now," Mr. Sarsby continued, "let me speak to you seriously."</p> + +<p>The suggestion that there had been anything of mirth from which Mr. +Sarsby desired to lead the way appealed to the girl's sense of humor. +Her lips parted, and the sullen discontent of her face was for a moment +lightened.</p> + +<p>"Very well," she said, "let us be serious. Go on. Tell me what you have +to say."</p> + +<p>"What I want to put before you is briefly this," he declared. "You do +not understand the impossibility of a young girl barely twenty years +old, with your"—he coughed a little—"personal attractions, being left +alone in London. Of course, it is difficult for me to explain to you +exactly what I mean."</p> + +<p>"You needn't," the girl interrupted contemptuously. "Do you think that I +am a fool? I know all about those risks which people speak about with +bated breath, and I should like you to know that I am quite able to take +care of myself. I am not afraid, so I do not know why anyone need be +afraid for me."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sarsby looked at her and wondered where amongst the wastes and +wind-swept places of his lonely home had the girl acquired the knowledge +which she alluded to so scornfully,—had she learned, too, he reflected, +to carry herself, as she had done since their arrival, with an ease and +assurance which he had tried in vain to emulate. He realized at that +moment that all further argument would be wasted. Nevertheless, he +continued to ease his conscience.</p> + +<p>"You may know a good deal," he said, "or think you do,—girls nowadays +read and talk of most surprising things,—but London is not a safe place +for a young girl, whatever you may say, especially a young girl without +enough money to live on."</p> + +<p>"I suppose," she said, laughing at him openly, "that Rakney is a safe +place. Well, I have tried it for a good many years, and I have had +enough. You needn't be afraid," she continued, "that I shall return to +Rakney in the guise of a prodigal daughter. If I don't succeed in +tracing Richard Sinclair's fortune, I shall find something else to do. +If you will give me the five pounds I ask for, it will make things +easier. If not, I shall get on without it."</p> + +<p>He felt that he was being weak. Even his conscience told him that +greater firmness was necessary. And yet he recognized something in the +girl's demeanor which assured him absolutely that any protests were +hopeless. There was a hidden strength there, shared by neither her aunt +nor himself,—something which kept her apart from them,—which made him +half believe, in spite of himself, that what she set herself to do she +would accomplish.</p> + +<p>"At least," he said, "we must know where you are going to live."</p> + +<p>"There is no need for you to stay in London," she answered, "while I +look about for a room. I know exactly the sort of place I am going to +take. I am going out in the Tube to one of the suburbs, where a bedroom +is not very expensive, and I shall take my meals out. It will cost me +very little to live, and five pounds will go quite a long way. By the +time it is spent, I think that I shall have discovered something. I will +not write you for any more money, I promise."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sarsby sighed. "I suppose you must have your own way," he said. "I +don't know what your aunt will say."</p> + +<p>She laughed. They had finished their luncheon and had risen from the +table. "Enough about my aunt," she said. "She will have all the anxiety +of her preserves upon her mind directly, and I think she will be glad +not to be bothered with me. You catch your three o'clock train, and play +your golf match to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"I suppose I may as well," he said weakly, "although I never can putt +after a railway journey."</p> + +<p>"Go and try, anyhow," she answered. "We will say good-bye to one another +here, if you don't mind. The porter will take care of my luggage until I +have taken my room."</p> + +<p>"I suppose if I were to stay up with you for a few days," he began,—</p> + +<p>"Please, uncle, don't!" she began firmly. "It isn't any use. You have +been kind to me in your way, but the life at Rakney is horrible to me. I +have made up my mind to have no more of it. You've done your best for +me, you can't do more. Good-bye! There is your bag, and you haven't too +much time to catch the three o'clock train. Take the first turn to the +left from here, and book to King's Cross by the Tube. Good-bye!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Sarsby picked up his bag and departed without any further protest. +The girl stood upon the steps and watched him, and as she watched, some +of the darkness seemed to pass away from her face. He disappeared around +the corner. She was alone—free, at any rate! She drew a long breath, +and the dull streets and gray sky seemed suddenly to have become like +the walls and canopy of a new paradise.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_TWO" id="BOOK_TWO"></a>BOOK TWO</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IA" id="CHAPTER_IA"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>FREE TO DIE</h3> + + +<p>At about quarter past ten in the morning, a man, still young, but +deathly pale, with hollow cheeks and receding eyes, stood on the edge of +the pavement outside a great and gloomy-looking building. A nail-studded +door had just been opened and closed to let him pass. The attendant, who +wore prison livery, leaned forward curiously to look at him as he walked +out with uncertain footsteps. The prison doctor stood by his side and +called a four-wheel cab.</p> + +<p>"You are sure," he said, "that you have somewhere to go to, Rowan?"</p> + +<p>"Quite sure, sir," the man answered.</p> + +<p>"Keep your courage up, my man," added the doctor. "If your friends can +afford it, go down to the South at once. You will find it easier there. +There's your cab. You have some money, have you not?"</p> + +<p>"Plenty, thank you, doctor," Rowan answered. "You've been kind to me, +sir," he added. "Thank you!"</p> + +<p>"There wasn't much I could do," the doctor answered, helping him into +the cab, "except to get you out of this hole. Make the most of your time +now. Good luck to you!"</p> + +<p>The cab rolled off. Rowan, after the first few minutes' exhaustion, due +to his unaccustomed preparations, leaned forward on the seat, looking +out with hungry, wistful eyes upon the world which he had scarcely hoped +to see again. Very soon the full flood of London traffic was flowing +past him, the streams of men and women jostling one another upon the +pavements, the long, tangled thread of moving vehicles, taximeter cabs, +hansoms, and wagons. The sun was shining, the faces of the people seemed +to him, accustomed to the white, hopeless countenances of the men he had +passed in his daily exercises and in the prison infirmary, unusually +buoyant and cheerful. It was a glad world, this, into which he had come, +a world which he was so soon to leave. It was hard to think he was free +only that he might crawl away into some corner where he could die.</p> + +<p>The cab stopped at last before a block of offices in a by-street of the +city. Rowan reluctantly alighted, and crossing the pavement entered the +building. He passed through a swing door to a desk. A small boy poked +his head out of an inquiry office.</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me if Miss Rowan is employed here?" Rowan asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you can't see her," the small boy answered. "She's in with the +guv'nor now."</p> + +<p>Rowan hesitated. "Perhaps you will kindly tell her, when she is +disengaged," he said, "that her brother is here, and would like to speak +to her for a moment."</p> + +<p>The office-boy withdrew his head, but he seemed uncertain. Rowan seated +himself upon a hard bench set against the wall. On a small round table +in front of him were pens and paper and a copy of the trade journal. +Rowan turned over its pages listlessly for a moment or two, and then set +himself down to wait. It was quite half-an-hour before a door in front +of him opened, and Winifred Rowan appeared. She looked at her brother in +blank astonishment. She was paler than ever, there were dark rings under +her dilated eyes. She looked at him as one looks upon some strange +monstrosity.</p> + +<p>"Basil!" she murmured. "It can't be you! And yet—Basil!"</p> + +<p>"It is I," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Free?" she cried.</p> + +<p>He laughed, a little bitterly. "They have let me out to die," he +answered. "The doctor to-day signed a certificate that I have no +reasonable chance of living longer than another month, so here I am, +free, Winifred, if you like to call it freedom."</p> + +<p>She came and sat on the bench by his side. At that moment it was hard to +say, from their appearance, which of the two seemed the nearer death.</p> + +<p>"When were you released?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Half-an-hour ago," he answered. "I came straight here. I wondered +whether you could get a month's vacation, and come with me somewhere +south. We have enough money for a little time."</p> + +<p>"If they will not let me go," she answered, "I will leave. That is +simple enough. We have enough money, Basil. We will go this afternoon."</p> + +<p>He shook his head. "First," he said, "I must see—I must see—"</p> + +<p>"Whom?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"A friend," he answered, "someone who may be inclined to do something +for me,—not for myself," he added hastily,—"that, of course, is +ridiculous—but it is of you I am thinking, of you after I am gone."</p> + +<p>"I shall be all right, Basil," she said. "We have several hundred pounds +left, you know."</p> + +<p>"It is not enough," he answered firmly. "Winifred, will you go on an +errand for me?"</p> + +<p>"Where to?" she asked, with a sudden sinking of her heart.</p> + +<p>"To a man whose address I will give you,—a rich man, a great man. I +think that he will be willing to do something for us. His name is +Stirling Deane. I will write his address down for you."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Deane!" she repeated. "I have been before to see him, Basil. I went +before your reprieve came."</p> + +<p>"Of course," he said. "I had forgotten. Well, I want you to go up to him +now. I want to see him, but I do not want to go to his offices. Where do +you live, Winifred?"</p> + +<p>"It is an apartment house for women only," she answered. "I cannot take +you there."</p> + +<p>"Then we must go to a hotel," he said. "It seems a mockery to buy +clothes, but there are one or two things I must have. To-morrow we will +go somewhere south."</p> + +<p>She glanced at the clock. "I will see whether I can get away now," she +said.</p> + +<p>She disappeared, and came out again in a few minutes with her hat on. +"Come," she said.</p> + +<p>He led her to the cab outside. "We will drive to a hotel," he said. +"When we have taken some rooms, you shall go and see Mr. Deane. I think +that he will come to me if you will tell him that I am free, that I have +only three weeks to live, and that I should like to see him."</p> + +<p>"Very well," she answered.</p> + +<p>They stepped into the cab. "Tell him to drive to one of the large +hotels," Rowan said,—"any except the Universal."</p> + +<p>She shuddered as she gave the order. She, too, had her memories of the +Universal, of which he knew nothing. Slowly they made their way +westwards. The girl held his hand in hers.</p> + +<p>"It is good to see you again, Basil," she said.</p> + +<p>"It is good to be here again," he answered, "to be out in the world, +even though it be to die. I suppose the authorities have really been +kind to me. It is as much as anyone could expect. And yet, Winifred, I +should like you to remember this always. The quarrel between Sinclair +and myself was of his seeking—not mine. The blow of which he died was +struck purely in self-defence. I could box and he couldn't, or he would +have half killed me that night."</p> + +<p>"I know," she answered breathlessly. "Don't talk of it."</p> + +<p>He went on, as though not hearing her. "He came at me with both hands +clenched, and I hit him under the chin. I had to, or he would have +killed me if he could. He was a strong man, and he had been drinking +until he was half mad. It was not my fault, Winifred."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know that!" she said. "Try and forget it now. It was a wicked, +wicked accident."</p> + +<p>"Life has been wicked enough for you and me lately," he answered, +sighing. "You are worn to a shadow, Winifred. I suppose it is this +wretched typing, day by day. We must put an end to it."</p> + +<p>She shook her head. "I must earn a living, dear," she said. "But don't +bother about me. I shall be all right. See, he has stopped. This must +be—yes, it is the Grand Hotel. Will that do?"</p> + +<p>He nodded. "Quite well," he answered.</p> + +<p>He paid the cabman, and making some excuse at the office about luggage +to come, took rooms. Then he put Winifred into a hansom, and wrote down +for her Deane's address, which she already knew.</p> + +<p>"Bring him back with you if you can," he begged. "Bring him back here. I +shall be waiting in the reading-room, just round the corner there to the +right."</p> + +<p>She hesitated. "You look so faint, Basil," she said. "I am not sure +whether I ought to leave you."</p> + +<p>"I am going to have some brandy and milk," he answered. "I am going to +sit down and have it there in that corner. I shall wait till you come. +You will know where to look for me. Hurry, dear, please. I shall know no +peace until I have seen Deane."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IIA" id="CHAPTER_IIA"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>A LAPSE OF MEMORY</h3> + + +<p>Deane sat at his desk, immersed once more in the affairs of his great +business. His cheeks were bronzed with the sun and heather-scented wind. +His eyes were clear and bright. All traces of the unsettlement of those +few nervous weeks seemed to have passed away. One thing only +occasionally disturbed him—the non-appearance of Winifred Rowan. Since +those few seconds of tremulous excitement when they had stood face to +face in the darkened room of the hotel, he had neither seen nor heard +from her. He could understand her having left the hotel hurriedly. He +could have understood her keeping away for a day or two. But a whole +month had passed, and she had taken no steps whatever to communicate +with him. He had left exact instructions as to what was to be done +should she come to the office while he was in Scotland. He had had the +whole of his private letters forwarded, lest by chance a word from her +should fail to reach him. There was something a little ominous in this +absolute silence, something which troubled him occasionally, which set +him thinking, wondering, whether under that still, quiet demeanor there +might be qualities of which he had taken no account,—whether indeed +she, too, were not a schemer who meant to make the most of this +opportunity which chance had thrown in her way.</p> + +<p>A clerk entered and stood at his side. "A young lady is here to see you, +sir," he announced,—"Miss Rowan."</p> + +<p>"Miss Rowan," Deane repeated mechanically.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir!" the clerk answered. "We have instructions outside to let you +know if she called at any time."</p> + +<p>Deane leaned back in his chair. With a few quick words he dismissed his +secretary from the immediate business in hand. "You may show Miss Rowan +in," he said.</p> + +<p>A moment or two later she entered. Deane watched her with a new +curiosity as he rose to his feet. She was as quietly dressed as usual, +as pale, and her eyes, except for one upward glance, seemed always to be +seeking the carpet. There was something curiously negative about her +appearance,—something, it seemed to him, almost wilfully so. The rich +brown hair, which had flashed almost to golden in the morning sunlight +at Rakney, was drawn up and concealed, as though the owner's sole object +was that it might escape attention. Her clothes were not unbecoming, but +they were the quietest of their sort. Her eyes, which should have been +beautiful, were so perpetually veiled and hidden that their quality was +lost. Both physically and in her reticent speech she appealed to him +more than ever that morning as a woman whose desire seemed to be to +creep through life unnoticed.</p> + +<p>"At last!" he remarked, holding out his hand pleasantly. "I have been +expecting to see you for some time, Miss Rowan."</p> + +<p>"You have been expecting to see me?" she repeated, raising her eyes to +his. "How strange!"</p> + +<p>"Why strange?" he answered, glancing around the room, and lowering his +voice a little. "Don't you remember at our last meeting you promised to +bring my tea a few hours later? Since then, I have not even seen you, +nor have you sent me a line."</p> + +<p>She raised her eyes again and looked at him. They were very beautiful +eyes, but he did not understand the somewhat blank expression which +shone out of them. "I do not understand you," she said quietly.</p> + +<p>Deane would have been irritated, but something in her manner struck him +as so strange that his feeling turned to one of bewilderment. "Come," he +said, "you are not going to suggest that I have been dreaming, or that +you have had one of these fashionable lapses of memory? You remember +meeting me in that room in the Universal Hotel?"</p> + +<p>Without change of countenance or expression she answered, "I have never +been in the Universal Hotel in my life!"</p> + +<p>Deane looked at her, his lips a little parted, and as he looked his +feeling of bewilderment grew. "My dear young lady," he protested, "do +you mean to tell me—"</p> + +<p>"You have been mistaking me for someone else, I think," she said calmly. +"There are so many people about who are like me. We will not talk of +this just now, if you do not mind. I have come to you from my brother."</p> + +<p>"Well?" said Deane.</p> + +<p>"My brother is free," she went on. "He was released at nine o'clock this +morning. The doctor at the prison signed a certificate that he has only +a month or so to live. He is free on the understanding that he goes away +to some quiet place. He came to me an hour ago. It is at his wish that I +am here."</p> + +<p>"Go on," Deane rapped out.</p> + +<p>"He wishes to see you," she said. "That is all. He does not think that +there is any risk about it, under the circumstances. We are staying for +the night at the Grand Hotel. To-morrow we shall go down to Devonshire +or Cornwall. He will be glad if you will come and see him as soon as +possible."</p> + +<p>"I will come," Deane said, "but first, Miss Rowan, I must have an +understanding with you."</p> + +<p>"An understanding with me?" she repeated slowly.</p> + +<p>"Naturally," he answered. "I want to know, first of all, whether you are +my friend or my enemy,—whether, in short, you mean to play the +blackmailer, or whether you mean to return to me that document which you +abstracted from amongst Sinclair's effects."</p> + +<p>She drew a little sigh. "I am quite sure now, Mr. Deane," she said, +"that you are mistaking me for someone else. I do not know what you are +talking about."</p> + +<p>Deane was silent for several moments. He was feeling nervous and +disturbed. There was something uncanny about this quiet, persistent +denial,—the still face, the steadfast, beautiful eyes, which seemed yet +like unlit fires devoid of sympathy or apprehension.</p> + +<p>"I scarcely know," Deane said, "how we are to continue this discussion. +For some reason or other, you are sitting there within a few feet of me +and denying something which we both know to be the truth. You have a +motive, I suppose, but whatever that motive may be, you cannot imperil +it by speaking openly here. We are absolutely alone. There is not a soul +within hearing. You and I both know, Miss Rowan, that you hold that +paper to obtain which your brother risked his life and met with such +misfortune. It would be his wish, I know, that you should give it to me. +The terms I offered him for its recovery were surely liberal. If you +think otherwise, tell me your price. We are alone. You are not giving +yourself away. Tell me your price!"</p> + +<p>"I have no price, Mr. Deane," she said, "because I have no paper. I am +not a thief, nor have I stolen anything from anybody. All that you say +is strange to me. My brother is waiting, and he is very ill. Will you +come with me now, or will you follow as soon as you can?"</p> + +<p>Deane leaned back in his chair and laughed. It was not altogether a +natural laugh, but it was the only relief he could find from his +overwrought feelings. "What sort of a game you and I are going to play, +Miss Rowan, I cannot imagine," he said. "I have made the first and the +obvious move, and you have declared your opening. We must let it go at +that, I suppose. When you are disposed to talk common sense, I and my +cheque-book will be glad to listen to you. In the meantime, let me beg +of you one thing, and that is, keep that paper in some safe place!"</p> + +<p>She rose to her feet with a little sigh. "You are mistaking me for +someone else, Mr. Deane," she said.</p> + +<p>He crossed the room and fetched his hat and gloves from a cupboard. He +glanced into a looking-glass for a moment to straighten his tie, and met +the girl's eyes fixed upon him. He stood quite still, watching. She was +looking at him, at his back, as he stood there. There was expression in +her face at last, an expression which puzzled him, which he failed +altogether to understand. He stood quite still, with his fingers still +upon the sailor knot of his tie. As though she realized the +possibilities of the mirror, she suddenly turned around. When he came +towards her, the mask, if it was a mask, was there once more.</p> + +<p>"If you will come with me," said he, "I should be glad to go and see +your brother."</p> + +<p>They passed through the offices side by side. Many curious eyes followed +them. Deane paused at one or two of the desks to leave a few parting +instructions. Then he handed the girl into the electric brougham which +was waiting at the door.</p> + +<p>"The Grand Hotel," he told the man.</p> + +<p>He got in and seated himself by her side. "Miss Rowan," he said, "you +are beginning to interest me exceedingly."</p> + +<p>"I am sure that you cannot be in earnest," she answered, without turning +her head. "I am a most uninteresting person, living a most uninteresting +life."</p> + +<p>"I think you said that you were a typist," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"I am," she answered. "I am employed by Messrs. Rubicon & Moore in St. +Mary's Passage. I have been there for three years."</p> + +<p>"With occasional holidays," he remarked, with a smile.</p> + +<p>She shook her head. "The only holiday I have taken," she answered, "was +when I came to see you."</p> + +<p>He deliberately leaned forward to look into her face. The memory of that +moment when he had held her in his arms, the breaking of the storm, the +thrill, the wonderful, unanalyzed excitement which seemed to play about +them like the lightning which was soon to flash across the sea and land, +came back to him. He looked deliberately into her face,—still as the +grave,—at the large eyes, which were listlessly fixed upon the +streaming people.</p> + +<p>"You are the most amazing person!" he said softly. "Perhaps, as you were +never at the Hotel Universal, you were never in Rakney? Perhaps it was +not you who came to me with the storm, who tapped at my window, who +stood there like the daughter of the storm itself, who—"</p> + +<p>"It was I who came to Rakney," she said. "You know that very well, Mr. +Deane. Neither have I forgotten it. But I think that you should not +remind me just now of that."</p> + +<p>Of course she was right, but Deane felt a little unhinged. Her +invulnerability was maddening. "Perhaps not," he answered. "Perhaps I +have no right to remind you of that night, of the time when you crept in +from the storm, crept into my arms."</p> + +<p>She turned her head slightly away, as though interested in the passing +throng. No flush of color tinged her cheeks. Her straight, firm lips +never trembled. He tried to take her hand,—small it was, and encased in +old, neatly-mended gloves. She drew it quietly but firmly away. She +remained silent.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I have no right," he continued, "to remind you of these things, +but neither have you the right to deny our later meeting. You are +playing some sort of a game with me," he continued, a little roughly, +"and your methods, whatever they may be, include a lie. Therefore, I +myself take license."</p> + +<p>"If you have quite finished, Mr. Deane," she said, "I should be glad. My +visit to you, and all the circumstances connected with it, is one of the +things which I wish to forget."</p> + +<p>"To relegate to the same place in your memory," he remarked, "as your +brief essay in the rôle of a chambermaid."</p> + +<p>She leaned out of the window. "Here we are," she remarked. "I am anxious +about my brother. Please hurry."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IIIA" id="CHAPTER_IIIA"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>A PAINFUL INTERVIEW</h3> + + +<p>Rowan sat still in his corner, and although the hotel could not be +called fashionable—perhaps, in these later days, scarcely +luxurious—the little ebb and flow of life upon which he looked seemed +tinged with a peculiar bitterness. His hollow eyes followed each group +of these men and women, so full of vivacity, of happiness, of affairs. +The envy in his heart was like a real and passionate thing. It was an +envy scarcely founded upon comparisons. For them was life,—for him was +none! In front of him always was that ghastly, unchanging verdict: a +month—two at the most—thirty days of ill-health, of suffering, of +weakness, and after that—what? He caught his breath with a little +shudder, and calling a passing waiter, ordered some brandy. He looked +around and longed to find someone to speak to, someone to occupy his +attention for a single moment, to stop the flow of gruesome fancies +which seemed always biting their way into his brain. He had faced death +readily enough in those old days, when Deane and he had ridden side by +side, and the bullets had whizzed around them like rain, and the dead +men lay in heaps. But this was different! The blood ran warm in their +veins then, their hearts were strong. He had no strength now to battle +with these fancies, no strength to do anything but cower before the +slowly coming, grisly shadow of his fate. He looked continually at the +door, longing always for the return of his sister and the coming of +Deane. Even the prison hospital was better than this.</p> + +<p>A girl passed by, young and beautiful, carrying in her arms a little +dog. She threw a compassionate glance at Rowan, and he felt the sweat +break out upon his forehead. It was too awful, this! He was rising to +his feet even as Deane and his sister entered the lounge. He moved +toward them with uncertain footsteps.</p> + +<p>"We must have a sitting-room," he said. "I cannot face these people. I +am beginning to feel a coward."</p> + +<p>Deane went to the office, and very soon they found themselves upon the +third floor, in an apartment overlooking Northumberland Avenue, gorgeous +with plush and gilt mirrors, stiffly arranged chairs, an ornate +chiffonnier. Rowan, who had come up in the lift muttering to himself, +but obviously anxious for silence from his two companions, threw +himself, almost as the door closed, upon the hard couch.</p> + +<p>"I am broken!" he cried out. "I am broken!"</p> + +<p>Winifred sank on her knees by his side, her arms went round his neck. +Deane turned away and walked to the window a little awkwardly. Somehow +he felt that it would be taking a mean advantage if he should look into +her face, though all the time he was longing to see if her eyes had +really softened, if those lips were really trembling a little, lips that +were pressed to her brother's forehead.</p> + +<p>"Basil," she whispered, "you mustn't! Bear up, please. Mr. Deane is +here. He has come with me. Sit up and talk to him."</p> + +<p>Rowan pulled himself together. He sat up, and Deane, obeying a gesture +from her, crossed the room once more.</p> + +<p>"Rowan," he said, "I am very sorry to see you like this."</p> + +<p>"It's my first day out," Rowan answered. "It's a little trying, you +know, especially when the end is so near. I wanted just a few words with +you, Deane. It is good of you to come."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. "I only wish there was something I could do," he said.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing," answered Rowan.</p> + +<p>The girl turned away. "When you want me, Basil," she said softly, "I +shall be in the next room."</p> + +<p>"You might have some brandy brought up," he said. "I must talk for a few +minutes, and I am not feeling very strong."</p> + +<p>"I will ring the bell in the other room," she said, "and order it."</p> + +<p>She disappeared through the connecting door. Deane, who had found +himself watching her slow, even progress, turned once more to the man +who sat by his side.</p> + +<p>"I never thought I'd see you again," Rowan commenced. "I did my best, +Deane. I made friends with Sinclair all right—he was glad enough to +have anyone to drink with—and before long he began to tell me about his +claim to the Little Anna Mine."</p> + +<p>"Did he believe in it?" asked Deane.</p> + +<p>"Absolutely," Rowan answered. "I am quite sure of that. He absolutely +believed that directly he put it into the hands of any solicitor, you +would have to come to him and buy, even though it cost you half your +fortune. He was waiting those few days to see if you came."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. "Tell me how it happened," he said.</p> + +<p>"It was like this," Rowan continued, speaking hoarsely, and with +difficulty, "that night he wasn't quite so drunk. I pressed him a little +too closely about his claim, and where he kept the paper. He was +suddenly suspicious and quarrelsome. He tried to turn me out, and when I +wanted to soothe him down, he struck me. He was a strong man and I was +weak. I think that he meant to murder me. I remember I was half on the +floor. My forehead was bleeding already, and he was coming towards me, +shrieking with rage. 'I am going to finish you!' he called out. Then I +struck, hoping only to stun him, and, as you know, the blow killed him. +I forgot for a moment about the paper. I thought only about making my +escape. I had bad luck, and I did not succeed. I am afraid it was a +bungling sort of job, Deane."</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry indeed," Deane said, "that I ever suggested it to you."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't your fault," Rowan answered. "Nothing of this sort would have +happened if he hadn't come for me. I meant to rob him if I could—I'll +admit that—but no more. You see it was useless for me to try and open +negotiations. He was too confident altogether. He spoke of a million +pounds as his price. Tell me," he went on, "how do things stand now? Who +has possession of the paper?"</p> + +<p>Deane hesitated for a moment. "I do not know."</p> + +<p>Rowan's face fell. He seemed disappointed. "I had an idea," he said +slowly, "that you might have made some attempt to recover it. Everything +was left in the room at the hotel for some time. It was easily done."</p> + +<p>"I did make an attempt," Deane said slowly. "I have searched the room +for that paper, but failed to find it."</p> + +<p>"You yourself?" Rowan asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Yes! I heard that there was a claimant coming for Sinclair's effects, +and that they were going to be removed to Scotland Yard. I took a room +at the hotel, and I got hold of a key. I went through everything the man +had."</p> + +<p>"It was in the breast pocket of his gray coat, underneath the lining," +Rowan gasped.</p> + +<p>"I found the place," Deane answered, "but it was empty."</p> + +<p>Rowan wiped the sweat from his forehead. His breathing was becoming +difficult. Already the excitement was affecting him. "But it was there +on that night!" he exclaimed. "He took off his coat a few minutes +before, and I saw him feel it in the lining."</p> + +<p>"All I can tell you," Deane answered, "is that the lining of the gray +coat was torn, as though something had been abstracted. The paper was +not there. It was not anywhere in the room. I ran a risk," he continued, +after a moment's pause, "which I dare not think of, even now, but it was +in vain. Someone had been before me."</p> + +<p>"Was there anyone else upon the scent, then?" Rowan asked.</p> + +<p>"Can you think of anyone?" Deane asked.</p> + +<p>Rowan looked at him with distended eyes. "You don't mean to insinuate," +he began, "that I—that I had given it away?"</p> + +<p>"Not wilfully," answered Deane. "Is there anyone at all to whom you +spoke of this?"</p> + +<p>Rowan shook his head. "Only to my sister," he said, "and she is as +silent as the grave."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless," Deane said, "the paper has gone. Someone has it—is +holding it now—for a purpose, I suppose. There can but be one purpose. +Perhaps," he added, "you had better ask your sister, to be quite sure +whether she ever mentioned its existence to anyone."</p> + +<p>"We will ask her at once!" Rowan exclaimed. "I will ask her before you. +Let me get up. Help me. I will fetch her."</p> + +<p>Deane stretched out his hand. "No!" he said. "You must not excite +yourself Rowan. I will knock at the door and call your sister."</p> + +<p>Rowan lay back, gasping. Deane crossed the room and knocked at the door +which led to the inner apartment.</p> + +<p>"Miss Rowan," he said.</p> + +<p>She opened the door almost immediately. "Yes?"</p> + +<p>Deane stood aside. "Your brother," he said, "has a question to ask you!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IVA" id="CHAPTER_IVA"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>A QUESTION</h3> + + +<p>Winifred came slowly into the room. It seemed to Deane, watching her +curiously, that she had been steeling herself to defiance. There was no +change in her expression, and her lips seemed tighter drawn than ever. +She went at once to her brother's side.</p> + +<p>"You have been talking too much, Basil," she said. "You know that it is +not good for you."</p> + +<p>He leaned across to the little table which stood by his side and helped +himself to brandy. He was indeed looking terribly ill. The lines under +his eyes seemed traced with a coal-black pencil, and his hand shook so +that half the brandy was spilled.</p> + +<p>"Winifred," he said, "I must ask you a question. You remember that I +spoke to you of a document—Sinclair had it. I was trying to deal with +him, trying to get it back for Mr. Deane here."</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered calmly, "I remember your speaking of it."</p> + +<p>"We have reason to believe," he continued, gasping a little,—"reason to +believe that it has been stolen. Mr. Deane wants to know whether at any +time you have mentioned its existence to anyone."</p> + +<p>She looked at Deane and back at her brother. Her face was unchanged. +"No!" she said. "I have mentioned it to no one."</p> + +<p>"You see," her brother continued, "it's like this. No one but I knew of +that paper. Deane here told me, and I told no one except you. And yet we +have evidence, we know that it has been stolen from Sinclair's room +since his death. That is why we want you to be quite sure that you did +not mention its existence to anyone."</p> + +<p>"No mention of it has crossed my lips," she answered. "I have no +friends, no confidants. I have spoken to no one about it. Nothing in the +world," she continued, "would be more improbable than that I should have +done so."</p> + +<p>He turned to Deane, who stood by with impassive face. "You hear?" he +exclaimed. "You hear? I was quite sure about Winifred. She doesn't go +talking about. She's no gossip, are you, Winifred?"</p> + +<p>"I hope not," she answered.</p> + +<p>"I have no reason, I am sure," Deane said slowly, "to doubt Miss Rowan's +discretion."</p> + +<p>She raised her eyes for a moment, and met his. The faint satire in his +tone was intentionally provocative, but it failed to move her. Her +regard of him was entirely impersonal. He looked away with a light shrug +of the shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Well, Rowan," he said, "it seems there is nothing further to be done. +If the paper does turn up," he added, "I shall know how to deal with its +holder. In the meantime, about yourself."</p> + +<p>Rowan laughed a little hysterically. "About myself," he repeated. +"That's a fruitful subject, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Doctors make mistakes sometimes," Deane said. "Let us hope that they +may have made one in your case. Anyhow, there is no reason why you +should not be comfortable, and have the best medical advice. Go wherever +you think best, and send me your address. I shall not forget that your +accident took place when you were engaged upon my affairs."</p> + +<p>"You are very good, Deane," Rowan said.</p> + +<p>The girl looked up. "Mr. Deane's kindness is quite unnecessary," she +said. "We are in no want of money."</p> + +<p>"Your sister does not quite understand," Deane said, turning to him. "We +have been through too many rough times in Africa together to stand upon +ceremony now. You will perhaps be able to explain to her later on."</p> + +<p>He took up his hat and turned toward the door. "I shall expect to hear +from you," he said, "as soon as you have decided where to go,—either +from you, Rowan," he added, shaking hands with him, "or from your +sister."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind, Deane," Rowan said. "I am sorry I have made such a +mess of things."</p> + +<p>"It was not your fault," Deane answered. "Good-day, Miss Rowan!"</p> + +<p>She looked at him for a moment, but she did not offer to take his +outstretched hand. He smiled, and withdrew it at once.</p> + +<p>"Good-day, Mr. Deane!" she said.</p> + +<p>The door closed behind him. Rowan was watching his sister anxiously. +"Winifred," he said, "what is the matter with you? You were scarcely +civil to Mr. Deane."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I think I was," she answered. "In any case, we don't want to take +alms from him, do we?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't exactly that," Rowan objected.</p> + +<p>"It is."</p> + +<p>"He can afford it," Rowan declared. "He is very rich. A thousand pounds +to him is like sixpence to us."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't alter facts," she rejoined. "I do not like Mr. Deane, Basil. +It is through him that this trouble has come upon us. You have taken +enough of his money."</p> + +<p>"And when I am gone?" he asked. "What about you then?"</p> + +<p>"Have I ever failed to make my own way?" she asked quietly. "I shall be +safe enough, Basil."</p> + +<p>He commenced to cough, and very soon further speech was impossible. He +was painfully exhausted. She sat by his side until he went off to sleep. +Of his hopeless state there could no longer be any doubt. He was wasted +almost to a shadow. Even in sleep his breath came heavily, and a fever +seemed upon him. She stole softly from his side, and stood for a few +minutes at the window, looking out. Below, the pulse of the great world +was beating with the same maddening regularity. The stream of wayfarers +swept on, the roar of traffic was as inevitable as the waves of the sea. +She stood by the window with small, clenched hands. Behind her, his loud +breathing seemed to beat out the time toward Death.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Deane himself was one of those wayfarers, but at least his thoughts, as +he was being whirled eastward in his brougham, were fixed upon the +tragedy which he had left behind him. He knew very well that it was not +a question of months but of days with Basil Rowan. Was it only for that +that the girl was waiting? Her whole attitude towards him had about it a +certain flavor of mystery which oppressed him. It was like trying to +face an enemy hidden in a darkened room, listening for his footstep, not +knowing whence the blow might fall. Notwithstanding the warm sunshine, +he shivered a little as he descended from the carriage and entered his +offices.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VA" id="CHAPTER_VA"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>MUTUAL INFORMATION</h3> + + +<p>The girl was sitting in the middle of a hard horsehair sofa, her elbows +upon her knees, her head resting in her hands. She looked across the +dreary apartment and out of the ill-cleaned windows, with dull, +despairing eyes. This, then, was to be the end of her dreams. She must +go back to the life which she felt to be intolerable, or she must throw +herself headlong into the maelstrom.</p> + +<p>There was one other occupant of the room, and, curiously enough, his +attitude appeared to be a somewhat similar one. He was a short, +thick-set young man, with brown moustache, flashily dressed, with a red +tie, an imitation diamond, and soiled linen to further disfigure an +appearance at no time particularly prepossessing. He was standing with +his legs a little apart, looking out into the uninspiring street. His +hands were thrust deep down into the pockets of his trousers. He had all +the appearance of a man who finds the burden of life an unwelcome thing. +Presently he began to whistle, not cheerfully, but some doleful air of +sentimental import. The girl upon the couch seemed irritated. She +herself was in the last stage of dejection, and the sound grew +maddening.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't do that, please!" she exclaimed at last.</p> + +<p>He turned around in amazement, for the first time realizing that he was +not alone. "I beg your pardon," he said.</p> + +<p>The girl remembered that he was a stranger to her, but after all, what +did it matter? "I asked you to stop whistling," she said.</p> + +<p>He answered "Certainly!" and continued to look at her. She returned his +gaze with a disapprobation which she scarcely attempted to conceal.</p> + +<p>"Sort of habit I get into," he explained, "when I'm in the dumps."</p> + +<p>"Does it do you any good?" she asked. "If so, I'll learn how to whistle +myself."</p> + +<p>"Meaning," he remarked, "that we are companions in—dumpiness?"</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders, but did not trouble to reply.</p> + +<p>"I wish to God," he exclaimed, "I'd never left Cape Town!"</p> + +<p>Then for the first time she looked at him with a gleam of interest, and +asked, "Do you come from South Africa?"</p> + +<p>He nodded. "I did, and I only wish I were back there. I could always +keep my head above water there, but London is a rotten hole. I suppose +it's because I don't know the runs," he added meditatively. "Anyhow, +it's broke me."</p> + +<p>She continued the conversation without feeling the slightest interest in +it, but simply because it was an escape—a temporary escape—from her +thoughts. "What did you come over for?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"A fool's errand!" he answered. "I lent a man some money—a sort of +speculation it was—and I came over to see how he was getting on."</p> + +<p>"And I suppose he'd lost it," she remarked.</p> + +<p>"He's lost himself," answered the man, "which is about as bad. I wish I +could lay my hands upon him. I'd get a bit of my own back, one way or +another."</p> + +<p>"London is a big place," she returned. "People are not easy to find +unless you know all about them."</p> + +<p>"This man left South Africa only a month or so ago. He gave me an +address here where he said I should always hear of him. I've been there +nearly every day. He turned up there all right regularly after he first +landed. He hasn't been there at all for two months, and they haven't the +least idea where he is."</p> + +<p>"You don't even know," she asked, "whether the speculation is successful +or not?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head gloomily. "It don't make much odds, so far as I can +see," he said. "If it came off, he's bolted with the profits. If it +didn't, he's hiding for fear I shall want my money back again. It's a +rotten sort of show, anyway."</p> + +<p>"What was his name?" she asked idly.</p> + +<p>"His real name," the man answered, "was the same as your own,—that is," +he added, "I think I heard old Mrs. Towsley call you Miss Sinclair, +didn't I?"</p> + +<p>She looked at him steadily for several moments without speaking. He was +not a person of quick apprehensions, but even he could not fail to see +the change in her face. Her lips were parted, her eyes were suddenly lit +with an almost passionate fire. The change in her features was +illuminating. She was no longer a tired, depressed-looking young woman +of ill-tempered appearance. Her good looks had reasserted themselves. +Life seemed to have been breathed into her pulses.</p> + +<p>"His real name was Sinclair," she repeated softly. "He came from South +Africa. Tell me some more about him?"</p> + +<p>"Why?" he asked bluntly.</p> + +<p>"Because," she told him, "my name is Ruby Sinclair, and I am here on +very much the same errand as you, only with this difference," she +added,—"I know where my uncle is. I know what has become of him. There +are other things for which I seek."</p> + +<p>He came over from the window, and stood on the hearthrug by her side. +Some part of her excitement had become communicated to him. "I say," he +exclaimed, "this is a rum go, and no mistake! If it's the same man, we +may be able to help one another. It's Richard Sinclair I am looking for, +called over there Bully Sinclair. He was a man about fifty years old, +been in South Africa for the last twenty years, a mine prospector and +general adventurer. He'd had his fingers in a good many pies, had +Richard."</p> + +<p>"What was he over in England for?" she asked.</p> + +<p>The young man hesitated. "I don't know that there's any harm in telling +you," he said, "only remember its information for information. I'm +giving you the whole show away."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you all you want to know," she interrupted. "Go on."</p> + +<p>"Well," the young man said, "he came over to lay claim to a gold-mine +that he considered he'd been done out of."</p> + +<p>"A gold-mine!" the girl repeated breathlessly. "Was it a rich one—very +rich, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"I should say so," the young man answered. "It was a complicated bit of +business—the mine's in other hands, you see—but Sinclair reckoned that +he'd got a claim to it, anyway, and he expected either to be squared for +a big amount, or to get a syndicate to take the thing up. He came to me +dead on his uppers. My name's Hefferom. He and I had been pretty thick +at odd times, and though we'd been in a good many deals together, we'd +kept friends in a way. He came to me, as I say, in Cape Town, and he +told me what the game was. He wanted a matter of two or three hundred +pounds to get over to this side, and to start things properly. Well, I +thought it out, and though it was about all I was worth in the world, I +let him have it. Over he comes. I got a letter from him to say he'd +landed, and never another line. I cabled—no answer. Over I came myself, +for he'd scarcely left Cape Town before a little affair that I was mixed +up in went plumb wrong, and I lost every penny I'd got left. So over +here I come, and I've been here a fortnight, and I tell you Sinclair +seems to have vanished from the face of the earth. The worst of it is," +he continued, "I'm stoney-broke. I've got to leave this place to-day +because I can't pay my bill, and I've no idea where to raise a +sovereign."</p> + +<p>The girl's sense of humor triumphed for a second over her excitement. +"There are your diamonds," she reminded him. "I heard you talking about +them at dinner the other night. One of them you said was worth a hundred +pounds."</p> + +<p>"A bluff," he answered readily. "They are false, every one of them. I +talked like that to get old mother Towsley to let my account go on a +bit, but she wasn't having any. Now, I say, I've told you my story. Tell +me why you are so keen on knowing about it."</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "I will tell you. My name is Ruby Sinclair, and I am +the niece of the man whom you have come to England to find."</p> + +<p>He made use of an oath for which he forgot even to apologize. "You know +where he is!" he exclaimed. "Come, remember it was a fair bargain. +Information for information!"</p> + +<p>"He is dead!"</p> + +<p>The young man staggered back. His first emotion of shocked surprise +lasted only a few seconds. Anger and disappointment took its place. +"Dead?" he exclaimed. "And my money—what about that? What he left +belongs to me, anyway. It's got to be made up. I can show you his note +for it."</p> + +<p>"You had better wait," she answered coldly, "Until I have told you +everything. I suppose you don't read the papers?"</p> + +<p>"Never," he answered. "What good are they to me?"</p> + +<p>"They might have been of some use on the present occasion," she +answered. "They might at any rate have saved you from wasting a good +deal of time. My uncle was murdered in the Hotel Universal by a man +named Rowan."</p> + +<p>The young man swore again,—fluently, volubly,—swore until he had come +to the end of a varied and extensive vocabulary. When he had finished, +there was an excited flush in his cheeks and a bright light in his eyes. +"By Rowan—Basil Rowan?" he exclaimed. "He was one of us out there when +we were prospecting up the Newey Valley. Look here," he continued, "you +and I have got to have this out. Murdered, was he? Well, I'm the man +that may be able to throw some light upon that. What's happened to +Rowan? Had he anything to say?"</p> + +<p>"I will tell you all that I know," the girl answered. "My uncle wrote me +directly he arrived in England. He told me that he had been fortunate in +Africa, that he had come to take possession of a large fortune, and that +he would be sending for me in a very short time to live with him, and +that, as he had no other relative, I should be rich all my days. I +replied, of course, asking whether I could not come at once. He wrote me +again to tell me to wait for a day or two, until his affairs were +settled. Then I heard no more. I waited. I wrote again. I waited, and +wrote again. There was no reply. I found afterwards that my letters had +never even been called for at the address where he told me to write. +Then one day a stranger who was staying at Rakney told my uncle there to +look at the papers. We found the story of his murder. He had been dead +some time."</p> + +<p>"Rowan was tried, I suppose?" the man asked. "Did he say what his motive +was? Has he been hanged?"</p> + +<p>"He insisted upon it that it was a quarrel," the girl said. "I do not +believe him. He was found guilty and reprieved. I saw in the papers last +night that he had been released. I believe that he has only a few days +to live."</p> + +<p>"And you?" the young man asked.</p> + +<p>"I came up," the girl said slowly, "to take possession of my uncle's +effects."</p> + +<p>"Have you got them?" he asked breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" the girl answered.</p> + +<p>"There were papers?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Some," she answered, "but none of any importance."</p> + +<p>He looked at her suspiciously. She shrugged her shoulders. "Look here," +she said, "I am telling you the truth. Look at me, look at my +gloves—mended half-a-dozen times. Look at my clothes, just hanging on +my back and no more. If there had been a single thing amongst my uncle's +papers on which I could have raised even a five-pound note, do you think +that I should be sitting here like this, wondering which might be the +quickest way out of the world?"</p> + +<p>The young man moistened his lips. He was obviously in a state of +excitement. "Listen," he said, "among these papers was there a sort of +deed on yellow parchment paper, roughly written, with a government stamp +in the left-hand corner, a paper which spoke of a gold-mine called the +Little Anna Gold-Mine?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head decidedly. "There was nothing of the sort."</p> + +<p>Then the young man swore again, and this time he seemed to surpass +himself. "Your uncle was robbed!" he exclaimed,—"robbed of that paper! +I tell you," he added, "he was murdered for it, and for no other +reason!"</p> + +<p>"How do you know?" the girl cried.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's as simple as A B C," he explained. "He had the paper in his +possession when he came to England. The mine has been claimed by a great +syndicate who are working it now. He came to see them, to make terms. +The next thing we hear is that he is murdered and the paper is gone. +They thought that no one else knew of it. Young lady," he exclaimed, +"you may thank your stars, as I do, that you and me have come together. +We'll have justice, and we'll have that fortune yet!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIA" id="CHAPTER_VIA"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>AN OPPORTUNE ARRIVAL</h3> + + +<p>With his feet to the sea, and his head pillowed by many cushions, Rowan +lay in a long invalid chair at the edge of the little strip of shingle +which separated the tower of Rakney from the sea. Every limb was at +rest, every nerve seemed lulled into quiescence. The sun and wind had +left their traces upon his hollow cheeks. It seemed, indeed, as though +Death had lifted her hand from his forehead. It was only when one looked +closer that one realized his terrible weakness, realized how slender, +indeed, the thread was by which he held on to life. There was scarcely a +breath of wind stirring. The sun was high in the heavens, and the whole +country seemed lulled into a state of almost unnatural repose. The +distant trees were motionless, as though, indeed, they were simply +painted things against that background of deep blue sky. The smoke from +the little cluster of cottages crept upwards, straight as a ruled line. +The cattle in the fields seemed all asleep, exhausted by the unexpected +heat. The sea was like a lake, unruffled, almost unrippled.</p> + +<p>The man dozed, and Winifred sat by his side, with her eyes fixed +steadily and yet absently upon the distant horizon. A week, at most, the +doctor had given him, and after that—what? She looked backwards to the +window,—the window through which she had entered on that wild night +earlier in the year. She looked away again uneasily. She was afraid of +such moments as these. It was to escape from them that she had protested +so vehemently against their accepting Deane's offer of his cottage.</p> + +<p>At low tide, a rough, pebbly road led from the village to the cottage, +as well as the dyke footpath higher up. Along this came two people, a +man and a woman, mere specks at first in the distance, but rapidly +becoming more and more evident. They walked fast, and they looked always +anxiously toward the tower, which stood out at the end of the road +against the background of the sky,—a curious, almost uncanny, sort of +building.</p> + +<p>"If they see us coming," said Ruby Sinclair, "they will certainly try to +prevent our seeing him. Our only chance is to come upon them +unexpectedly. They can watch the dyke path from the front, but few +people ever come by this road. It winds about so, and it is generally +thick with sea mud."</p> + +<p>The man nodded. He too was keeping his gaze fixed in a strained manner +upon their goal. "Now that we are so near," he said, "so near to him, we +will make him speak. We will not be driven away. He cannot escape from +us there."</p> + +<p>There was a curious air of determination about these two, a certain +grimness which seemed common to both of them, as they hurried along the +rough, stone-strewn road. They had reached the last hundred yards now, +and their course was perfectly straight. They walked single file along +the little stretch of marshland which served as a footpath.</p> + +<p>"He is in front, lying on a chair," she whispered. "They won't be able +to get him in now before we are there."</p> + +<p>The road terminated suddenly upon the beach. The man and the girl +scrambled up a little shingly mound. When at last Winifred heard the +sounds of their approach, they were already between her and the house. +Any attempt at escape was useless. She came a few steps toward them.</p> + +<p>"Who are you, please, and what do you want?" she asked quickly.</p> + +<p>Hefferom stretched out a hand toward the prone figure of Rowan, who was +lying there still with closed eyes. "We want a few words with your +brother," he said. "We shall not keep him long, but it is very +important. We have come a long way to see him."</p> + +<p>"It is impossible," she said firmly. "He is very ill indeed. The doctor +allows him to see no one. I don't know how you found your way here, but +you must please return at once."</p> + +<p>"I have come a long way," Hefferom said slowly.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," she answered, "but can't you see that it makes no +difference? If you were to ask him questions, he is not well enough to +answer you—scarcely to understand. Any sudden shock at all—even a +recognition—might kill him."</p> + +<p>Hefferom hesitated no longer. He pushed Winifred away, and motioned to +Ruby to follow him. At that moment Rowan opened his eyes and turned his +head. Hefferom walked towards him and leaned over his chair.</p> + +<p>"You remember me, Rowan?" he said. "My name is Hefferom, Steve Hefferom. +We were up the Newey Valley together, camped out, you know, at Prince's +Gorge, for more than a month,—you and I and Deane, and a lot of us."</p> + +<p>"I remember," Rowan faltered, trying to raise himself. "Yes, I +remember!"</p> + +<p>He had a fit of coughing. Winifred passed her arms around him and held +him up. "If you stay," she whispered to Hefferom, "you will kill him. He +ought not to speak ever a sentence."</p> + +<p>"It isn't much we want him to say, miss," Hefferom answered doggedly, +"but there's a question he's got to answer. If he is as near death as +you say, it can't make much difference what happens, and it means more +than death to me and to this young lady."</p> + +<p>Rowan had recovered sufficiently to drink from a glass which Winifred +had handed to him. He turned once more toward Hefferom. "That is all +finished," he said painfully,—"those days. I am ill,—too ill to talk, +too ill to think, too ill to live! Please go."</p> + +<p>Hefferom bent over him. "Rowan," he said, "you and I were never enemies, +even if we didn't exactly hit it off together. Listen to me for a +moment. Sinclair borrowed my last three hundred pounds in Cape Town to +come over here and lay claim to the Little Anna Gold-Mine. He had the +government deed with him. I have seen it. I followed him over to claim +my share, and I found him dead, killed, and the paper gone. I am not +asking you to give away your game, whatever it was, but we want the +paper. This is Sinclair's niece with me, and I am his partner. We +inherit his claim to the Little Anna Gold-Mine, and we want that +document."</p> + +<p>"The document was not amongst Sinclair's effects when they were examined +after his death," Rowan said. "I did not take it. I do not know what has +become of it. That is the truth. Leave me alone now. I cannot talk any +more."</p> + +<p>His head dropped back upon his pillow. He was white to the lips. +Winifred hurried to his side. Once more she turned upon the two.</p> + +<p>"Are you satisfied?" she cried. "You have nearly killed him—for +nothing. I know very well that no document of any sort such as you +describe has been found. If Mr. Sinclair ever had it, it was probably +stolen from him."</p> + +<p>"Stolen, yes!" Hefferom said,—"stolen right enough! That is what we are +here about. This young lady is his niece, and I'm his partner. What was +left behind belongs to us, and, so far as I know, the only thing worth +having was that document. We want it, and, by God," he wound up, "we've +got to have it!"</p> + +<p>"Do you imagine," the girl asked, without change of countenance, "that +you will find it here?"</p> + +<p>"I will tell you what I do imagine," Hefferom answered. "Men don't +commit murder for nothing. Your brother tried to steal that paper, or +rather he did steal it. The game's up now. He's no opportunity to make +use of it, and it belongs to us. It belongs to us and we've come for it. +There, now you know the truth. We've come for it, and we've come to stop +until we get it."</p> + +<p>Rowan raised himself a little in his seat. "Hefferom," he said, "it's no +use talking like that. I haven't got it. I'll be frank, frank as you +have been. I know no more than you do who has got it. I quarrelled with +Sinclair, and he got suspicious. We fought in his room, and the result +you know, but I was arrested before I left the hotel. Everyone knows +that. The paper—I never had it—I never even saw it. Where it is now +God only knows. I don't."</p> + +<p>Rowan fell back in his chair, coughing violently. For several moments he +was incapable of speech. Winifred knelt by his side. When he had +finished coughing, she held a wineglass to his lips and made him sip its +contents. He lay back now as though completely exhausted. She turned to +face these unwelcome visitors.</p> + +<p>"You see," she cried, pointing to him, "a little more of this and you +will kill him. Go away, both of you. He has nothing to tell you."</p> + +<p>Hefferom laughed a little brutally. "Come," he said, "this game won't +do. We are here for the truth, not to be put off with these fairy-tales. +It is the truth we want, and the truth we'll have, or I'll wring it out +of him even if it kills him."</p> + +<p>Rowan's eyes were closed, and he showed no sign of having heard. +Winifred stood up boldly before him. "You are fools!" she said. "He has +told you all he knows. If Sinclair ever had the deed you speak of, he +parted with it to someone else, not to my brother."</p> + +<p>"Someone else!" Hefferom repeated. "Do you take us for fools? If he +parted with that deed, he parted with it for a fortune. Where's the +money? Show us the deed or the money, and we are satisfied. Show us +neither, and we'll not leave this place until he has spoken."</p> + +<p>A step upon the shingle behind suddenly diverted their attention. The +eyes of every one of them were fixed upon the tall figure who was +walking swiftly up the slope. They had been so engrossed that they had +not even heard the sound of the motor-car which was standing there, +splashed with mud, and with its engine still panting. With his glasses +in his hand, and his long gray coat thrown open, Stirling Deane strode +up to them.</p> + +<p>"Come," he said, "it seems to me that I have arrived opportunely. What +does this mean? Who are these people? Miss Sinclair, is this man your +companion? What does he mean by speaking in such a tone to a dying man?"</p> + +<p>No one answered him. Hefferom stood as though turned to stone, but his +eyes never left Deane's.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIIA" id="CHAPTER_VIIA"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>HEFFEROM IS OPTIMISTIC</h3> + + +<p>Ruby Sinclair leaned forward and touched her companion's back as they +flew through the village of Rakney. "Look," said she. "You see that +cottage we are just passing? That is where I have lived for the last +four years."</p> + +<p>Hefferom followed her outstretched finger. He saw the little grove of +bare trees, and the marshland stretching out beyond to the bare sea. +"Winter and summer?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Winter and summer."</p> + +<p>He nodded. "About time you went fortune-hunting!" he said.</p> + +<p>No other word passed between them until they reached the railway +station. They descended from the car, and watched it almost immediately +swing round and disappear.</p> + +<p>"So this is the end of our little excursion to Rakney," Ruby remarked.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" Hefferom answered. "Aren't you satisfied?"</p> + +<p>"Why should I be?" she asked. "What have we gained?"</p> + +<p>Hefferom drew a long breath. "Ah, I forgot!" he said. "You don't +understand."</p> + +<p>He drew her into the refreshment room. She declined to drink, but she +sat in a corner while he disposed of several whiskies and sodas. At +first he would say nothing, and she waited. Presently he began.</p> + +<p>"You think," he said, "that I was a coward, because when Deane bundled +us off in his car and told the man to drive us to the nearest railway +station, I did not protest. You think that I should have made a scene +there? It wasn't worth while. Deane's coming gave the whole game away. +Don't you really understand?"</p> + +<p>"Not a word," she answered.</p> + +<p>"Listen, then. Stirling Deane is the man who is supposed to be the owner +of the Little Anna Gold-Mine, which was really your Uncle Sinclair's."</p> + +<p>She looked at him with gleaming eyes. "Say that again," she said. "I +don't quite understand."</p> + +<p>"The deed which is missing from your Uncle Sinclair's effects," Hefferom +said slowly, "is the title-deed to the Little Anna Gold-Mine. That mine +was illegally taken possession of by Stirling Deane. He sold it to the +company, of which he is now president, at an enormous price. He is the +man with whom your Uncle Sinclair came to England to treat. Sinclair was +murdered. By whom? By Rowan. Who was at the back of Rowan? Whose tool +was he? We know! Chance this afternoon made everything clear to us. +Can't you see that Rowan killed your uncle and stole that deed to save +Stirling Deane from ruin,—at his bidding, as his accomplice?"</p> + +<p>"It takes my breath away," the girl murmured. "Now I think of it, of +course, it is Deane's cottage they are in. He was there himself only a +few weeks ago. It was through him that we heard of my uncle's murder."</p> + +<p>"The whole thing's as simple as A B C," Hefferom declared. "Can't you +see that Deane has given himself into our hands? Of course Rowan stole +the deed! Of course Deane has it! He will have to pay for our silence! +By God, he will have to pay!"</p> + +<p>The girl looked up from her seat on the leathern couch, looked at her +companion long and critically. "Do you think we can hold our own against +a man like Stirling Deane?"</p> + +<p>"It depends upon the cards, and they are in our hands. We must go back +to London. We must wait till he is at his office. Then I will see him. +You can leave the thing in my hands now. I shall know how to approach +him. He cannot deny his friendship with the Rowans. They are occupying, +even at this moment, his own cottage. Very likely I shall be able to +discover other things connecting him with them. The newspapers you +showed me spoke of great influence which was brought to bear on the +granting of the reprieve. We may find that Stirling Deane was at the +back of that. Anyhow, he is connected closely enough with them. I am +here, ready to swear that when Sinclair left Africa he left with the +original title-deed of the Little Anna Gold-Mine in his pocket. I think +that the friendship between his murderer and Stirling Deane, who sold +that mine for close upon a million pounds, is a thing that will need a +little explanation."</p> + +<p>"And in the meantime," said the girl bitterly, "we are starving."</p> + +<p>"Not quite," he answered. "We have thirty-eight shillings. That will +take us back to London, and find us rooms somewhere for the night. We +must scrape along somehow until I can get to Deane's offices."</p> + +<p>"You are not forgetting," the girl remarked, "that the thirty-eight +shillings you are speaking of is my property?"</p> + +<p>"We are partners," Hefferom declared. "You shall carry the purse if you +will, but there is no object in it."</p> + +<p>"You seem to do most of the spending," she reminded him. "If you think +that we can afford it," she added, glancing at his empty glasses, "I +should like a cup of tea."</p> + +<p>He ordered it at once, and sat down by her side. "Look here," he said, +"I don't see what you want to be so blooming stand-off for. Times are a +bit rough with us just now, but, you mark my word, we shall pull through +all right. This man Deane is in the hollow of our hands. He has been +Rowan's accomplice. No one who knows the facts could possibly doubt it. +A word from us would ruin him."</p> + +<p>The girl sighed. She had drawn a little away from the man. "Do you +believe, then," she asked, "that Mr. Deane has the deed?"</p> + +<p>"Either that, or it is destroyed," answered Hefferom. "But don't bother +about that. Whether the deed is still existing or not, we know enough to +make it worth his while to buy us, even though it costs him half his +fortune."</p> + +<p>"In the meantime," the girl said, "please get the tickets. The train +will be in, in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>"Come with me," he said suspiciously. "Remember, we're partners."</p> + +<p>"Oh! we are partners right enough," she answered, rising and following +him out of the place. "You needn't be afraid that I am going to let you +go. Just now you are all that stands between me and a return to Rakney."</p> + +<p>On the way up to town he began to build castles. He was optimistic, +sanguine in the extreme. The girl listened almost stolidly. Her +companion had begun to depress her. He was badly dressed, his linen was +soiled, his imitation jewelry was hideous. He sat opposite her in the +train, and there were things in his face from which she shrank. She was +more than thankful that they were not alone.</p> + +<p>"Are you tired, or what?" he asked at last, a little sullenly. "Surely I +made it all plain enough? You don't doubt that there's money in this for +us?"</p> + +<p>"There should be," she admitted slowly. "And yet—"</p> + +<p>"And yet what?"</p> + +<p>"I have seen Mr. Deane before," she said hesitatingly. "I have talked +with him once or twice. Somehow or other, when I think that it may come +to be a struggle between you and him—"</p> + +<p>He interrupted her with a brazen laugh. "You think I won't be able to +stand up against him! Well, you shall see. There's a good deal in +holding the cards, you know."</p> + +<p>"You haven't the deed," she reminded him.</p> + +<p>"I don't want it," he answered. "I am not afraid of Stirling Deane. I +have known him a good many years, and he knows me. We are up against one +another now, and you may fancy his chances; but I tell you my back's +against the wall, and his isn't. He's there fighting in the open. I've +got him, I tell you,—got him!"</p> + +<p>She half closed her eyes. This was not the way in which she had hoped to +come into her fortune. In her heart, she could not believe a word he +said. Deane was a strong man; Hefferom, she was already beginning to +discover, was nothing but a bully and a craven. If it came to a duel +between the two, she found it easier to believe that Hefferom would be +worsted.</p> + +<p>At King's Cross Station they separated. Hefferom, a little sulkily, +accepted his dismissal, and parted with half of the money which he had.</p> + +<p>"You can go where you choose," she said. "You can come back to Mrs. +Towsley's, if you like, but I tell you frankly that except while we are +on business I think it better that we should stay apart."</p> + +<p>"I can't see why," he muttered.</p> + +<p>"For one thing," she said, "we might be taken for adventurers. I do not +know much about the law, but it seems to me you won't be very far out of +its clutches when your negotiations with Mr. Deane begin."</p> + +<p>"I can take care of myself," he answered gruffly. "Can I see you back to +the old lady's, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"No!" she answered. "I would rather go alone."</p> + +<p>"Come and have one drink in the refreshment room, just to wish ourselves +luck," he begged.</p> + +<p>She went in with him and drank a cup of coffee. He had two liqueurs, and +would have had more, but she dragged him sharply away.</p> + +<p>"Remember," she said, "that I have nothing more I can raise money on. +These few shillings are all we have. If Mr. Deane does not return for +several days, we must leave."</p> + +<p>"Deane will come back," he said, with a defiant laugh. "I let him have +things his own way to-day, but he knows just where he is. Mark my words, +he will be at the office to-morrow morning, and he will be there +expecting to see me."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIIIA" id="CHAPTER_VIIIA"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>A BOLD MOVE</h3> + + +<p>Hefferom was over sanguine. It was three days before he was able to see +Stirling Deane. During that three days he had lived on a few shillings, +spent mostly in drinks. He swaggered into Deane's office, an untidy, +dissolute-looking creature. His efforts to seem at his ease were almost +ludicrous.</p> + +<p>"A bit different, this, to the Newey Valley," he remarked, as he sat +down without waiting for an invitation. "Things have gone pretty well +with you, eh, Deane? Slap-up offices you've got, and the chink of money +everywhere. It reminds me of what I've come about."</p> + +<p>"You have come for money, have you?" Deane asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know about that. I don't know how you look at it, but it +seems to me that there's a bit owing, a bit which might come my way. I +should tell you, perhaps, that I am representing Miss Sinclair as well +as myself."</p> + +<p>"Richard Sinclair's niece?" Deane asked.</p> + +<p>"Exactly. She is heiress to anything the old man had, and I was partner +with him in the Little Anna Gold-Mine."</p> + +<p>"In what?" asked Deane.</p> + +<p>"In the Little Anna Gold-Mine," Hefferom repeated distinctly.</p> + +<p>Deane leaned back in his chair. "I must ask you to explain yourself," he +said. "The Little Anna Gold-Mine belongs to the syndicate of which I am +a director."</p> + +<p>"That's all very well for a bluff," answered Hefferom, "but you got rid +of Sinclair a little too easily."</p> + +<p>"Got rid of him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I'm not thinking of this last time," Hefferom interrupted, with a +hard laugh. "I am thinking of the time he put you on to the mine, and +you took possession of it."</p> + +<p>"It was perfectly legal," Deane remarked.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps so,—perhaps it wasn't," Hefferom answered. "Anyway, I know +very well, and so, probably, do you, that Sinclair left South Africa six +months ago, with the government title-deed of the Little Anna Gold-Mine +in his pocket. I advanced him the money to come, and he made me his +partner."</p> + +<p>"These are amazing statements of yours," Deane said. "May I ask where is +this wonderful deed?"</p> + +<p>"You may ask," Hefferom answered, "but not me. Better go to Rowan. He +knows, though he keeps his lips tight shut. He knows, and so do you! +Never mind about that. You don't want a lawsuit,—no more do we."</p> + +<p>"Who are 'we'?" Deane asked.</p> + +<p>"Miss Sinclair and myself," Hefferom answered. "We are partners in this. +I have come to you as a reasonable man. Sinclair landed in this country +with the title-deeds of the mine which you have always considered yours, +in his pocket. To-day he is murdered, and his papers have disappeared. +He was murdered by Rowan, whom you are now befriending. There's a story +there for the newspapers,—there's something more than a story, Deane."</p> + +<p>"Do I understand," Deane asked calmly,—</p> + +<p>"You can understand what you please," Hefferom said. "I want my money +back, and I want big interest. And then there's the girl. She should be +standing at this moment in your shoes. Half of the Little Anna Gold-Mine +is hers by right. It is for you to say what it would be worth your while +to put down to close this business."</p> + +<p>"Now," Deane remarked suavely, "you are talking common sense. But what I +should like to know is, where is this wonderful title-deed?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, d—n you, it's in the fire, I suppose!" Hefferom cried. "You and he +know. Rowan's your man, and he's the sort to die game. But he didn't +kill Sinclair for nothing. I wouldn't mind betting that that deed has +been burnt to ashes, but even then, I know a little too much, eh?"</p> + +<p>Deane shrugged his shoulders. "You know a great deal too much," he said. +"I am to understand, then, finally, that you want me to buy your +silence?"</p> + +<p>"Put it that way if you choose," Hefferom answered, "only I warn you +that I haven't come here on a child's game. This is a big business,—a +big business for me and for the girl. She must have her share, and I +mine."</p> + +<p>"And the amount?"</p> + +<p>"One hundred thousand pounds. Remember that it has to be divided."</p> + +<p>"In other words," remarked Deane, "I am to buy your silence as to these +matters upon which you have spoken, for the sum of one hundred thousand +pounds?"</p> + +<p>"It is too little," Hefferom declared. "The mine is worth ten times as +much—the mine and your position."</p> + +<p>"If I give you this sum," Deane asked, "do I understand that it closes +the whole affair? You must remember that I do not admit having even seen +this deed you spoke of. Supposing it turns up in somebody else's hands?"</p> + +<p>Hefferom laughed ironically. "We'll guarantee you against that," he +declared.</p> + +<p>"That's easy to say," Deane objected, "but I don't see how. Come, I will +be perfectly truthful. I haven't got that deed. If it should be still in +existence, and be used against me after I have paid you this sum of +money, I should be in somewhat an unfortunate position."</p> + +<p>"There isn't the slightest fear of it," Hefferom said. "Besides—"</p> + +<p>"Besides what?" Deane asked, looking up from his desk.</p> + +<p>"It isn't as though the deed were a certainty," he said slowly. "Of +course, the law is a little complicated. There would be witnesses on +both sides, and the case might go anyhow."</p> + +<p>"It would depend a little, I think," Deane said quietly, "on which side +you gave evidence for. I think you could upset that deed if you chose."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I could," Hefferom said gruffly.</p> + +<p>"Will you do it," Deane asked, "if it should ever be set into action +against me? Remember that even though I know you will not believe me, +the fact remains that although I have defended Rowan, I am not in +possession of that deed."</p> + +<p>Hefferom leaned across from his chair. "Listen, Deane," he said. "I am +not here to bluff about that wonderful document. Perhaps it isn't worth +the paper it's written on. Anyhow, here's my word for it. I'll see if +ever an action is brought against you on the strength of that deed, that +you blow it all sky high in five minutes."</p> + +<p>"Is the deed a forgery?" Deane asked.</p> + +<p>Hefferom did not answer.</p> + +<p>"Or is it only the date?" Deane continued.</p> + +<p>Still Hefferom was silent. Then, "There is no necessity," he said, after +a pause, "of putting these things into plain words. You have only to +find the money, and your anxieties are over."</p> + +<p>Deane touched a bell by his side. "Yours, I am afraid," he answered, +"are only just beginning!"</p> + +<p>The curtains behind were suddenly thrown aside. A tall, spare-looking +man stepped out. Deane turned towards him.</p> + +<p>"Inspector," he said, "I give this man in charge for a barefaced attempt +at blackmailing me. You have heard all that has been said. I don't think +that there is anything for me to add."</p> + +<p>He rang the bell by his side a second time. A moment later a policeman +entered from the outer office. Hefferom, who had sprung to his feet, was +glaring at them both, white with passion.</p> + +<p>"So this is your game, Deane!" he exclaimed. "By the Lord, you shall pay +for it! You to dare to use the law against me,—you, who sent Rowan like +a paid assassin to murder Sinclair!"</p> + +<p>"A gross calumny," Deane answered calmly. "I had no interest in +Sinclair's life or death."</p> + +<p>"It's a d—d lie!" cried Hefferom. "If you are going to do any +arresting, inspector, arrest that man!" he cried, pointing with his fat +white forefinger to where Deane stood, debonair and well-dressed as +usual, and with a little bunch of violets in his buttonhole. "I tell you +that he paid the man Rowan to kill Bully Sinclair in the Universal +Hotel. I tell you I can prove it. I can prove this—that Sinclair left +South Africa six months ago, with the deeds of the Little Anna +Gold-Mine, which this man dared to sell as being his own at close upon a +million pounds less than six months ago. I can tell you more!—"</p> + +<p>They led him from the room, still shouting. At the door he turned back. +"It's a bold game this, Deane," he cried, "but by heavens I'll cry quits +with you before long! You think you have a case against me. I am only +certain of one thing, and that is that you have driven a nail into your +own coffin. If I could only get at you, you—you blackguard!"</p> + +<p>His eyes were bloodshot. He strained and struggled to free himself from +the grasp of the two men.</p> + +<p>"I'd kill you where you stand!" he cried. "Do you think that I can be +muzzled? Do you think that the truth won't come to light? People shall +know it even if I never leave off telling it till my last breath comes."</p> + +<p>Deane listened to him with immovable face. They got him outside at last. +He heard him being dragged down the corridor, protesting all the time. +Then he resumed his seat. "It's a bold game to play," he said to himself +thoughtfully, "and yet, if they really haven't the deed, there was +nothing else to be done!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IXA" id="CHAPTER_IXA"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>LORD NUNNELEY IS FRANK</h3> + + +<p>"I asked you to lunch at the club, Deane," said Lord Nunneley, "because +I thought that we could talk here without being interrupted. If you came +to Cavendish Square, Olive would walk you right away from the table, and +if I asked to have a chat with you alone, there would be a perfect +avalanche of questions to face."</p> + +<p>Deane looked up a little curiously. For the first time he realized that +this was not simply a casual invitation. His prospective father-in-law +had really something to say to him.</p> + +<p>"There was some matter which you wished to discuss, then?" Deane asked. +"I need scarcely say that I am quite at your service."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus3" id="illus3"></a> +<img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"There was some matter which you wished to discuss, then?" Deane asked.</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>Lord Nunneley passed his cigarette-case across the table. They were +nearing the end of a very excellent luncheon. "Well," he said, "there +were a few things I wanted to say to you. You see, Deane, the city is no +longer a mythical place to us idlers. We meet people whose life is +centred in money-making, every day. I have friends, friends beside +yourself, who come from Lombard Street, and one hears things, gossip, I +mean, and stray talk."</p> + +<p>Deane seemed suddenly to recede into himself. His host noticed the +change, and blamed himself for his want of tact. Nevertheless, as he had +begun, so he went on.</p> + +<p>"You see, Deane," he continued, "Olive is my only daughter, and it makes +one more than ordinarily cautious. This blackmailing case of yours has +set people talking a bit. Of course, I think you were right. It was a +brave and sportsmanlike thing to do. The man is committed for trial, and +I only hope he'll get penal servitude. All the same, there are a lot of +people, you know, Deane, who don't take quite the same view of it."</p> + +<p>"Naturally," Deane assented. "One can scarcely occupy such a position as +mine without having enemies. There are wheels within wheels in the +financial world, you know, Lord Nunneley, just as there are in the +social world. There are a dozen men who covet my post, and as many +hundreds of hangers-on and parasites who would be glad to see me out of +it."</p> + +<p>"Quite so," returned Lord Nunneley. "Of course, this man Hefferom's +attitude was distinctly belligerent, and his solicitors evidently knew +what they were talking about when they reserved his defence. Tell me, +when Sinclair came to you first had he really any papers at all which +were likely to cause you embarrassment?"</p> + +<p>"He had an original claim to the Little Anna Gold-Mine," Deane admitted, +"but it had lapsed before I took possession. It was not worth the paper +it was written on."</p> + +<p>"Still, he had got that document?" Lord Nunneley asked.</p> + +<p>"Without a doubt," Deane answered.</p> + +<p>"You have no idea, I suppose, what became of it?" Lord Nunneley asked.</p> + +<p>"Not the slightest," replied Deane. "I only know that it was not found +among his effects."</p> + +<p>"Would it have been of any interest to you to secure it?" Lord Nunneley +continued.</p> + +<p>"I would have given a few hundred—perhaps a few thousand—pounds for +it," Deane answered, "partly as a curiosity, partly in order to save any +possible trouble."</p> + +<p>"Of course," Lord Nunneley said, leaning back in his chair and sipping +his coffee, "the world is full of people who love to gossip, and you +cannot gossip unless you invent ill about someone. Somehow or other, it +never amuses people to talk good of their friends; conversation only +becomes interesting when one can associate evil with them. There are +things being said in connection with this Hefferom affair, Deane, which +are not altogether pleasant."</p> + +<p>"Go on," said Deane.</p> + +<p>"For instance," his host continued, "I was told last night that +Hefferom's tale was in substance true,—he did advance this man Sinclair +money to come to England and assert his right to the Little Anna +Gold-Mine. Sinclair was murdered with this deed in his possession, and +it is freely whispered that you have befriended Rowan—his murderer. The +paper has disappeared. We know that. Still, there is a further rumor +that it may turn up at his trial. In that case, wouldn't you be rather +badly hit?"</p> + +<p>Deane shrugged his shoulders. "The exact facts are these," he said. +"Sinclair's claim to the Little Anna Gold-Mine is worth very little. +Nevertheless, he knew that any action he might take against me in the +present state of our money market here would be somewhat disastrous. It +would upset our credit and bring down our prices. Therefore, his idea, +without a doubt, was to come to England and make a bargain with me. He +didn't expect the mine. What he wanted was blood money. He came, and, +perhaps unwisely, I would have nothing to do with him. Rowan was known +to both of us out there. He came to see me a few days afterwards, and I +commissioned him to buy this deed, if he could. He went to look for +Sinclair, they drank together, an old quarrel was revived, and they +fought. The end of that you know. Where the document has gone to, I +can't imagine, but I can assure you that it was never meant to be the +basis of a serious claim, merely the foundation stone of a perfect +system of blackmailing. If I had listened for five minutes to Hefferom I +should have been in his power all my life. I should have lost my +self-respect. Very soon I should have lost my nerve. I couldn't do it. I +preferred to face him in a court of justice. He came to blackmail me, +and he deserved to be punished. If he can prove that it is I who am the +ill-doer, I will take my punishment. I can say no more."</p> + +<p>"You talk," Lord Nunneley said, looking at him kindly, "as I would have +my own son talk. And yet, Deane, this whole affair is distressing to me. +I tell you frankly that it has upset all the pleasure with which I +consented to your engagement. I cannot bear that anyone associated with +Olive should ever find himself in such a position. This case, of course, +may go all in your favor, or it may not. If it does not, well, you know +very well that it would be the beginning of very unpleasant things."</p> + +<p>"Does Olive know of this little luncheon party of ours, Lord Nunneley?" +Deane asked.</p> + +<p>"She does not," Lord Nunneley asserted. "Olive is, above all things, +staunch. She is, I believe, too, sincerely attached to you. I am +speaking entirely for myself. I am speaking, too, as the father of an +only daughter, whose engagement to you was, after all, a little +experimental. I should like to see my daughter released from that +engagement, Deane."</p> + +<p>Deane smoked steadily for several minutes. Finally, "This is a little +hard on me, isn't it, sir? I have only done what you yourself would have +done—refused to have underhand dealings with men who made dishonorable +propositions to me."</p> + +<p>"It is hard on you, Deane," Lord Nunneley declared. "It is very hard +indeed. But remember, I never wanted Olive to marry anyone in the city. +I know you, and I like you. If you came to me with your hands clean and +plenty of money, I should not hesitate for a second, for I believe that +Olive likes you. But I hate scandal, I hate gossip, I hate notoriety! +This blackmailing case of yours is going to result in all three. I'd +like to go home and lay the case before Olive, and have your permission +to say that if it seems good to her mother and myself, the engagement +between you two is broken."</p> + +<p>Deane leaned back in his chair. It seemed to him that he had so little +time to give to thoughts outside the immediate trend of the day's work. +It was proposed that his engagement with Olive should be broken. What +did it mean to him, this engagement? How far into his life had she come? +What place did she hold in his heart? His thoughts travelled backwards. +He remembered his almost meteor-like accession to wealth and influence. +He remembered how all doors had flown open to him. He remembered and +realized exactly where he stood. He thought of Lady Olive. He remembered +the first day when he had decided that she was the woman who would look +well at the head of his table, who would be a pleasant companion for +him, and would insure his having friends, when he gave up his +struggling, amongst, the class of people with whom he desired to +associate. It was in that way that he had looked at it from the first. +Was it the same now? He had touched her hands. He had even kissed her +lips. She had come into his arms and allowed him to embrace her, without +any obvious reluctance. Only a few weeks ago she had kissed him +voluntarily, absolutely of her own will. During their fortnight in +Scotland she had shown herself more feminine than he had ever believed +her. She had insisted upon taking him for walks by herself. She had +taken his arm, encouraged him to make love to her, had deserted the +bridge table in the evenings to sit in dark corners with him, had +allowed him to hold her hand, even to snatch a few kisses. If she did +not care for him, at least she was very near it. And as for him,—he was +fond of her, without a doubt. Somewhere in the background of his +apprehension there was some shadowy idea of a greater thing than this, a +love more thrilling, more passionate, more mysterious,—music in the +veins, which no Lady Olive in the world had ever created. But there was +about these thoughts something absolutely unreal, fantastic. They had +never taken to themselves shape, never become associated with any human +being. They were nothing to trust to, he told himself,—nothing. He +looked out of the rain-swept window of the club. Curiously enough, he +had a sudden vision of Winifred Rowan's quiet, set face. The memory of +one passionate moment seemed suddenly to creep along his heartstrings +like the wind over the strings of a harp. Such folly, he thought, +frowning! Such absolute folly!</p> + +<p>"Lord Nunneley," he said at last, "I am only anxious to do what Lady +Olive wishes. If you will go home and tell her exactly what you have +told me, I should like you to add that it is only her happiness that I +wish, and that if she desires to release me, I shall accept her decision +without a murmur."</p> + +<p>Lord Nunneley played with his coffee-spoon nervously. "I knew you'd say +something like that, Deane," he said. "Of course, it will not be easy. I +believe that my daughter is really fond of you, and our influence over +her, both her mother's and mine, is somewhat limited. You wouldn't feel +inclined, I suppose, to come over to our side, to realize that under the +circumstances an alliance between you and her could scarcely be a +satisfactory thing,—in short, to encourage her to bring it to an end?"</p> + +<p>"In other words," Deane said, "you propose that instead of suffering +myself to be jilted by Lady Olive, I should offer myself as a victim?"</p> + +<p>"It's asking a good deal, I know," Lord Nunneley said, "and, of course, +it all depends upon how you feel about it. But I tell you frankly, I +can't help thinking—you must realize a little that this blackmailing +case, even if it turns out well, is bound to put a different complexion +upon things."</p> + +<p>"You must convince Lady Olive of that," Deane said. "I am ready to +accept my dismissal, but you must forgive me if I decline to do anything +to facilitate it. On the contrary, I shall insist upon seeing Lady Olive +before she absolutely decides. I shall not plead with her—you need not +be afraid of that—but I shall want to be quite sure that there has been +no misunderstanding of any sort."</p> + +<p>"There is no time like the present," Lord Nunneley said. "Drive home +with me, and we will interview my daughter at once."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>She heard all that her father had to say, listened to him gravely and +attentively. Then she turned to Deane. "And you?" she asked. "What do +you say to it all?"</p> + +<p>"My dear Olive," said Deane, "it amounts to this. I am to be the hero or +victim, as the case may be, of a <i>cause célèbre</i>. I cannot come out of +it with any considerable credit; I may come out to find myself under +very grave suspicion. I admit that appearances are against me. There +will even be people who will whisper that I sent Rowan from my office as +an assassin to Sinclair, and that the deed he brought with him from +South Africa is in my safe, or at the back of my fire. No one has ever +been free from calumny. I certainly am going to have my share of it. It +may—it very likely will—lessen my prestige. You will find some of your +friends who will talk of the 'Deane Blackmailing Affair,' and who will +never be quite sure whether I was prosecutor or defendant. You will find +all your life my name looked upon with a certain amount of suspicion, +because, in a case of this sort, prosecutor and defendant, and even the +witnesses, are all classed together by that somewhat vague portion of +the public which your friends represent. I admit all this. I also admit +that it would be an act of perfect justice if you should tell me to kiss +your hands and go."</p> + +<p>She pointed to the door. "Father," she said, "will you leave us for a +moment? There is something which I have to say to Stirling."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XA" id="CHAPTER_XA"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>A BROKEN ENGAGEMENT</h3> + + +<p>Even after the door had closed upon Lord Nunneley, and Deane was alone +with his fiancée, words did not seem to come easily to either of them. +Lady Olive was sitting back in the corner of a low couch. Deane was +standing upon the hearthrug, his hands behind him, his face a little +wrinkled with perplexity.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," he said thoughtfully, "you would like me, Olive, to explain +exactly how this claim came about?"</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," she answered, "I do not wish you to do anything of +the sort."</p> + +<p>He looked at her in some surprise. Her voice had prepared him for a +change of some sort, but he was nevertheless puzzled. There was a slight +flush of color in her cheeks, and her eyes were softer than usual.</p> + +<p>"Stirling," she said, "come and sit down here by my side."</p> + +<p>He obeyed at once. She turned and faced him.</p> + +<p>"I am puzzled, Stirling," she said. "I want to ask you a question. You +have been lunching with my father?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" Deane answered. "At his club."</p> + +<p>"I know that he feels very strongly about this matter," she said. "Tell +me, did the suggestion that our engagement should be broken off come +from him?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"And you?" she said. "Tell me exactly what you felt, what it meant to +you? I don't want you to fence with words, please," she went on. "Tell +me this honestly. Was it anything of a relief to you?"</p> + +<p>"Assuredly not," he answered wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"Think again," she begged. "You answer quickly, but is that because you +are very, very sure, or because you are taking it for granted? You see +you are one of those men, Stirling," she went on earnestly, "whose +disposition does not allow them to look back. We are engaged, I was your +deliberate choice, and after that, so far as you are concerned, the +matter was ended. The possibility that you had made a mistake would +never occur to you, simply because you would regard the matter as +inevitable. Tell me, if it were not inevitable, if you were not engaged +to me at this moment, Stirling, would you ask me again?"</p> + +<p>Her words amazed him. He had never given her credit for such insight, +such perceptions. It seemed, indeed, as though she had realized +something of which he himself was not yet conscious, and yet something +which might very well exist.</p> + +<p>"How long have you had this idea, Olive?" he asked gravely.</p> + +<p>"All the time," she answered. "At first, of course, it seemed all right, +but up in Scotland, and since then, I have wondered whether you have not +looked upon me as something quite outside your life,—a necessary and +desirable adjunct, perhaps, to your household and growing prosperity. +Don't think that I am complaining," she continued, "but in all our +recent communications the personal note has not been very strongly +marked, has it? I can see exactly, too, how my father's suggestion has +moved you. You don't feel, do you, as though the sun had ceased to +shine, or the world to move, because there is a chance that you may lose +me?"</p> + +<p>Deane was not often so doubtful of himself. In a sense he knew that she +was right. And yet, her very apprehension of these things, the new +earnestness with which she was looking at him, the thought that he was +very near indeed to losing her, seemed to stimulate his interest,—made +him feel, indeed, that it would not be a light thing to give her up.</p> + +<p>"Olive," he said, "I wish I could make you know exactly how I feel. If I +have been a little slow and reticent of speech, believe me, it is not +that I have not cared. On the other hand, there is some truth in what +you have said—I mean that I do honestly believe that I have taken +things a little too much for granted, that knowing there was no other +woman in my life, knowing how desirable you were, and how really fond of +you I was, I think I was content to let the rest come, as I certainly +did feel that it would come."</p> + +<p>"I think I understand," she said slowly. "Now tell me exactly what you +think of my father's request?"</p> + +<p>"I think that it is reasonable," Deane answered. "It is more reasonable, +even, than your father knows of. I think that I have been a little too +successful, perhaps, during these later years of my life. I have grown +to underestimate the possibilities of trouble."</p> + +<p>"This is really serious, then?"</p> + +<p>He nodded. "I am afraid," he said, "that I have been a little over-bold. +I ought to have kicked that man Hefferom out of my office half-a-dozen +times, until he came to reason, and then bought him off for good for a +thousand pounds. But you see I didn't. All my life I have hated +compromises. I knew that he was a blackguard, and I dealt with him as a +blackguard, and I have left him with the cards in his hands."</p> + +<p>"Then I suppose my father was right," she said, sighing.</p> + +<p>"I suppose he was," Deane answered.</p> + +<p>She held out her hand. "Very well, Stirling," she said, "let it be so. +Our engagement is broken, and I will see that the proper steps are taken +to announce it. But I want you to understand this from me, that if you +had cared, if I could have seen any signs whatever of your caring, no +word of my father's, nor anything that could have happened to you in the +city or elsewhere, any disgrace or any loss of money, could have +separated us."</p> + +<p>He took a step towards her. "Olive!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"No!" she said, a little sharply, and rang the bell.</p> + +<p>He turned and walked out. In the hall he passed Lord Nunneley. "We have +arranged it according to your wish, sir," he said, "your daughter and +I."</p> + +<p>Lord Nunneley looked at him curiously. Deane had the look of a man who +has been hard hit.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, Deane. I hope you understand there's nothing personal in +it."</p> + +<p>"I understand!" said Deane, briefly.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIA" id="CHAPTER_XIA"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>BITTER WORDS</h3> + + +<p>From the pit of the world—from the Law Courts, hot and crowded, where +the atmosphere was heavy with strife,—the modern battleground, where +the fighting was at least as dramatic over the souls of men as on those +other fields, reddened with their blood, Deane escaped to find himself, +after a few hours' journey, in this strangest of churchyards upon the +bare hillside. The church itself, squat, square-towered, and tumbling +into decay, stood out like a watch-tower upon the cliff. The churchyard, +bordered by low gray stone walls, seemed to contain little more than a +dozen or so of graves, and from one of these Deane turned away, and with +Winifred by his side commenced the long descent to the level of the sea. +The half-a-dozen who had attended the ceremony out of curiosity had +already melted away. The parson, with his book under his arm, had gone +into the vestry, but neither custom nor age had failed to rob those few +sentences of their wonderful, threatening pathos. Even Deane was a +little moved. The girl who walked by his side carried still with her +that impenetrable mask, but there was something more like real sadness +in the steady gaze of her unseeing eyes.</p> + +<p>The air was filled with sunshine, the singing of larks, and the calling +of the white-winged seagulls wheeling about their heads. Below, the sea +had receded to its furthest limits. The creeks were dry. The shore was +piled with masses of fragrant seaweed. The grass-grown dykes which led +down to the tower stood high and dry, like ribbons across the land. +Little sandy spits were visible, far out from the shore, and only the +white-topped posts marked the way of the tidal river out beyond the +island of seagulls and sand.</p> + +<p>Deane, after his anxious days and his tearing ride from town in the +great motor, felt the peace of all these things, showed it in his face, +felt it in his heart. The last few days had taught him a good deal. +Never had he been so weary of his place in the great world as he was +that afternoon. Even that little ceremony in the wind-swept churchyard, +the coffin lowered into the grave, the heaping of earth, the simple +words spoken by the bareheaded vicar,—even that little ceremony had +left its impression. After all, how small the difference between Death +and Life,—ignominy and greatness! His own reputation had many times +during the last few days trembled in the balance. What was the value of +that, even,—of all his wealth,—compared to the great primeval facts of +life?</p> + +<p>His thoughts suddenly turned to the girl by his side. He looked at her +pityingly,—looked at her, too, with curiosity. She had accepted his +coming almost as a matter of course. All the time, though he had known +well that she was suffering, she had been wordless, as though her grief +were something so great that no outward sign of it could be anything +else but pitifully inadequate. In her quiet, graceful walk, the very +reserve, the negativeness, so to speak, of her coloring, her speech, her +looks, she still represented to him an insoluble enigma. Was it +possible, now that her brother had gone, that she would speak? In any +case, the silence between them could not continue much longer, for +already they were down on the marshes, and, as though by common consent, +had turned seaward, towards where the lonely gray tower stood out on its +little sandy eminence.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Miss Rowan," he said, "what are your plans now?"</p> + +<p>"My plans?" she repeated, without turning her head.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" he went on. "I know that your brother's death is a blow to you, +but remember that it was inevitable. It was a thing which was bound to +come, and in many ways it was kinder and better that it should happen +like this. You could not have chosen for him a more peaceful ending, a +more peaceful resting-place. For anyone with even the faintest beliefs +in the future life could anything be more beautiful than to rest there, +with the eternal lullaby of the sea in his ears, free from encroachment, +save the encroachment of nature herself?"</p> + +<p>She turned to look at him, and the calm scrutiny of her level gray eyes +somehow disturbed him. "It is easy for you to talk like that," she said. +"You are still young and strong, and if the pendulum of fate swings +against you one day, it pays you back the next. You are selfish because +you cannot help it. You cannot even realize the hideousness of death! +You cannot realize it because it comes to other people, and not to you!"</p> + +<p>"You are a little unfair, Miss Rowan," Deane answered. "You must +remember that your brother was a doomed man."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but why?" she cried. "He was younger than you. There were no worse +things in his life. Always he was battling with failure and +disappointment. And this is the end,—to sit opposite a doctor, and be +told you may live a month, three months, a measure of time. Oh! it's +easy to think about it for other people! Think of yourself going about +with the knowledge in your heart that as the days passed one by one they +brought you nearer to the end, that every morning when your eyes opened, +instead of the joy of life would come once more that terrible fear."</p> + +<p>"Your brother was not a coward, Miss Rowan," Deane said.</p> + +<p>"A coward! You mean that he did not show his sufferings!" she exclaimed. +"That does not mean that he did not suffer. Oh! I have heard him in the +night when he thought that he was alone, I have heard his agony. And +that is the end!"</p> + +<p>She turned and faced the little stone church on the hill, the rudely +enclosed churchyard, in the far corner of which was still visible the +bare heap of mould.</p> + +<p>"He felt it coming, he felt the strength pass from him day by day,—he, +who had never known what it was to live, who had never known the days of +riches or success or power. There he lies,—God knows for what purpose, +to what end!"</p> + +<p>Deane walked for a little way in silence. It seemed to him that the +girl's bitterness was scarcely reasonable. Yet he realized that at such +a time reason loses its power.</p> + +<p>"His last days, at least, were as comfortable as possible."</p> + +<p>"Comfortable!" she exclaimed scornfully. "He lived in hell!"</p> + +<p>"You are not blaming me, by any chance?" Deane asked quietly.</p> + +<p>She turned upon him, and the mask seemed suddenly raised. There blazed +into her eyes a great fire. There trembled in the notes of her voice a +wonderful passion. Her form seemed to dilate. They were walking now upon +the top of the dyke, and she seemed to have been suddenly transformed +into something vengeful, some grim representation of Fate.</p> + +<p>"Blame you!" she cried. "I tell you that I hate all you smug, +successful, phrase-making men, who succeeded where he failed. What are +you that he was not? He was brave, he worked hard, he was honest, +courageous, he was all that a man should be. If you were ever these +things you at least were not more, and to you comes wealth and easy +days, honor, a long, peaceful future. London—the world—is full of you, +grubbing your way through life, thinking what magnificent creatures you +are, opening your pockets to help with your alms those who have fallen, +those who, if there was justice upon the earth, should be in your +places!"</p> + +<p>"This is unreasonable," Deane declared coldly.</p> + +<p>"Unreasonable! Who said it was anything else?" she cried. "What reason +is there in life, in death, in success or failure? Can you tell me the +laws by which life is ruled, can you find them anywhere, at the base of +any man's success or another's failure? Reasonable, indeed! One man +swims and another drowns. Who can tell why? One man grows rich, another +starves, and as often as not it is the clever man who starves and the +fool who grows rich. There is no reason in those things. There is no +reason in my hate for you and all those who have lived easy lives, and +who go on living them while he—lies there!"</p> + +<p>She turned back once more and pointed with outstretched hand towards the +little church. The wind blew her skirts about her,—disturbed for once +the trim, uncompromising arrangement of her hair. The color had come +into her cheeks at last. Deane wondered why he had never before thought +her beautiful!</p> + +<p>"I am sorry you are feeling like this," he said. "I did what I could for +your brother."</p> + +<p>"Be silent!" she interrupted fiercely. "You did what you could! To +insure your own safety you sent him on a desperate, unworthy mission—to +worm his way into the confidence of a drunkard, to steal for you, to be +your jackal. What did you care what the consequences might be! What did +you care, so long as your own reputation and wealth were saved! He was +to be one other—my poor Basil—one other of those to be crushed beneath +the great wheels!"</p> + +<p>"It is not fair," replied Deane, "to make such statements. Your brother +knew his risks, and he took them."</p> + +<p>"Knew his risks!" she repeated. "You mean that because you were on your +feet when he was on the ground, you would make use of him like any other +lump of mud you would spurn with your foot if you had not found a use +for it. He did your bidding, poor fool, but where he failed, I +succeeded. You have to deal with me now, and I think that it is my turn +to make terms!"</p> + +<p>Deane looked at her curiously. "At last," he said, "you are going to +admit your possession of that little document?"</p> + +<p>"At last," she admitted, "I am going to tell you that I have it!"</p> + +<p>"And to name your price?" he asked.</p> + +<p>There was a queer little sound in her throat, like an unnatural laugh. +"My price! Yes, that is another matter!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIIA" id="CHAPTER_XIIA"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>A STRANGE BETROTHAL</h3> + + +<p>Southward, through the country lanes whose hedges were still wreathed +with late honeysuckle, on to the great mainroad, Deane's car was driven +through the night,—always southward, till the lights of the great city +flared before them up into the sky. Deane himself, for hour after hour, +had sat back in his corner, buried in thought. His companion was even +more invisible, but as the end of the journey drew near he roused +himself with an effort, turned on the electric light which hung down +from the roof of the car, lit a cigarette, and, bending forward, looked +into the half-hidden face of the girl who was reclining by his side.</p> + +<p>"My dear fiancée," he said, "we are nearing London. Won't you rouse +yourself and give me your further orders?"</p> + +<p>She sat up, with a little yawn. "Let down the windows, please," she +said. "We will have some fresh air in for a few minutes."</p> + +<p>He obeyed her at once. The sweet midnight air through which they were +rushing was like a douche of cold water upon her face.</p> + +<p>"How far are we from London?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Less than twenty miles. Unless we are stopped, we shall certainly be +there in half-an-hour."</p> + +<p>"Why did you disturb me?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"To know your wishes."</p> + +<p>"You had better leave me at one of the small hotels in the west end," +she said. "I daresay you can think of one at which you are known. In the +morning, please come and see me and bring some money. I shall want to +engage a companion and a maid, and to buy some clothes."</p> + +<p>Deane looked at her curiously. Her manner was perfectly natural. +"Anything else?" he asked calmly.</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," she answered.</p> + +<p>"You mentioned the fact, I believe," he continued, "that you were—that +you had done me the honor—that you were, in fact, my fiancée."</p> + +<p>"Well?" she murmured.</p> + +<p>"Under those circumstances," he continued, "don't you think—"</p> + +<p>His hand rested for a moment upon hers. She drew it at once away. "No, I +think not!" she answered.</p> + +<p>"I have not had much experience," he went on, "in being engaged, but it +seemed to me that there were certain privileges which belonged to that +state."</p> + +<p>"You are perfectly well aware," she answered, "that ours is not an +engagement of that sort. You know something about the world in which the +men marry for position and the women for money, don't you? You can look +upon our engagement as being of that order. I marry you because it is +the only way I can make you pay your debt. I have given you notice from +the first. I mean to gain everything I can, and to give nothing."</p> + +<p>"Nothing?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"As little as possible," she answered. "As a matter of fact, you are +singularly indifferent to me. You simply represent the things I desire, +the things which are owing to me, the things which were owing to—to +him. I marry you to acquire them. You marry me because you must."</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "ours promises to be a novel matrimonial experience."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," she answered.</p> + +<p>"You have been reading too many novels," he declared. "People really +don't marry in this sort of way at all. There is always a pretence of +sentiment about it. If not, for very shame's sake, they try to cultivate +it."</p> + +<p>"Then we," she answered, "will remain exceptions."</p> + +<p>"Do you dislike me?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Personally I have not thought about you," she answered. "Apart from +that, I hate you. You represent the victor, and all that I have loved +upon this earth have been the vanquished. Willingly I would not give you +so much as the touch of my fingers. If I thought that my presence was a +pleasure to you, I would shrink back into myself. If I thought that any +happiness could come to you from our association, even now I would throw +myself from the car and end it."</p> + +<p>"Our prospects of matrimonial bliss," he remarked, "appear to me to be +distinctly above the average."</p> + +<p>"I do not expect," she answered, "to find any pleasure that may come to +me in later life, at your hands."</p> + +<p>"I shall certainly not allow you to flirt."</p> + +<p>"I know the law," she answered. "I know what I may do and what I may not +do. I shall not transgress it. I want your money, I want your position, +I want your power. These things I will share with you. For the rest, you +cannot keep too far away to please me."</p> + +<p>He leaned towards her, heedless of the fact that she was shrinking away. +There was something a little pitiful in the blue-gray eyes which tried +so hard to hold him at a distance. "Well," said he, "it will be an +interesting experiment, at any rate. Personally, I think that you are a +brave woman. I wonder that you did not take the money without me."</p> + +<p>"What good would that have been to me?" she answered. "I have no name, +no friends. Can't you imagine the sort of people who would have come +hanging on to my skirts, if I had made my début on the scene as a widow +or a spinster with a large fortune, unattached, looking for companions? +No! I need your name, Mr. Stirling Deane."</p> + +<p>"I am not at all sure," he answered grimly, "that you will find that +much of an asset."</p> + +<p>"You must see to it that I do find it an asset, and a valuable one," she +answered. "You are relieved now from any fear of that deed being +produced. There is no shadow of evidence to connect you with the man +Sinclair, or with my brother's transaction with him. If your lawyers are +clever and you are brave, you must win your case with honor, and +Hefferom will be sent to prison. He deserves it, in any case."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. "I shall win my case all right," he said. "For me there +never was any danger except in the production of that document, +concerning which you have been so mysterious."</p> + +<p>"It was mine," she answered. "I ran all the risk to get it. I ran risks +the memory of which will haunt me all my days. I have lost Basil. All +that I can do is to exact the utmost price that you can pay for that +little paper."</p> + +<p>"It isn't worth it, you know," said Deane. "I believe, even now, that I +should win my case, anyhow."</p> + +<p>She smiled—a curious little contraction of the corners of her lips. Her +eyes mocked him. "Perhaps," she said, "but it is a different thing since +Sinclair's murder. Its production to-day would ruin you inevitably, +whether it were held a legal document or not."</p> + +<p>"We all make mistakes," he said, looking out of the window.</p> + +<p>"But too often others pay for them!" she murmured, turning away.</p> + +<p>Presently he gave some instructions to the chauffeur. The pace of the +car slackened as they reached the outskirts of London and turned +westward.</p> + +<p>"Well," he remarked, "the world is full of surprises for us. I little +thought, when I came down to Rakney, that it was to find a bride!"</p> + +<p>She shivered a little at his words, but made no reply.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me," he said, "if I do not seem very coherent about it all. As +a matter of fact, you see, I was not expecting to take up obligations of +this sort again so quickly."</p> + +<p>"If you do not mind," she said coldly, "we will not discuss it."</p> + +<p>"I may at least be permitted to ask," he continued, "when it is your +intention to—marry me?"</p> + +<p>"In about two months' time," she answered.</p> + +<p>"You would like our engagement announced?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She hesitated for a few seconds. "In a fortnight's time," she declared.</p> + +<p>"In the meantime," he inquired, "I shall have the pleasure of being +received by you?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," she answered. "I shall expect to lunch and dine with you +occasionally, to be taken to the theatres, and for short expeditions +into the country—Ranelagh and Hurlingham, for instance."</p> + +<p>"Delightful!"</p> + +<p>The car stopped at one of the smallest and most famous of semi-private +hotels, in the neighborhood of Bond Street. Deane assisted his companion +to alight.</p> + +<p>"If you will come in for a moment," he said, "I will arrange things for +you here. They know me very well."</p> + +<p>She followed him into the hotel and waited while he interviewed the +manager. Then he took his leave of her, bowing over her reluctantly +offered hand, and smiling into her face as though honestly anxious to +penetrate behind its absolute imperturbability.</p> + +<p>"I hope you will find the little suite comfortable," he said. "You must +go to bed soon, and try and rest. They will do everything that is +possible for you, I am sure, until you have your own maid and things. +Good-night!"</p> + +<p>She raised her eyes for a moment to his, but there was more indignation +than gratitude in the glance she threw upon him. "I am very much obliged +to you. Good-night!"</p> + +<p>Deane drove back to his rooms. As yet he could scarcely realize the +situation. Had anyone ever been confronted with a position so unique? +The mystery of the girl's impenetrability was solved at last!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIIIA" id="CHAPTER_XIIIA"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>DESPERATION</h3> + + +<p>The curtain had fallen upon the first act of this little drama in +Deane's life. Hefferom was committed for trial. Deane had walked into +the court a few minutes late, as though the whole affair was one which +interested him only indirectly. He had gone into the witness box without +hesitation, and his story had been so perfectly rational and +straightforward that people began to wonder whether, indeed, any defence +was possible. Cross-examination only amused him. Hefferom, who went into +court expecting to be released, was committed at once to the Old Bailey, +and to everyone's surprise, his own included, was refused bail.</p> + +<p>Deane left the court a few minutes after the case was closed, and paused +for a moment to light a cigarette on the steps. On the edge of the +pavement there was a woman who watched with steady and scrutinizing +interest every person who left the entrance of the Law Courts. When +Deane came out she advanced towards him. "Is Hefferom free?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Deane looked at her, and recognized at once Ruby Sinclair.</p> + +<p>"No!" he answered. "He is committed for trial."</p> + +<p>"You—"</p> + +<p>She leaned forward as though about to strike him. Deane neither shrank +back nor showed any sign of interest in her words.</p> + +<p>"What is Hefferom to you?" he asked quickly.</p> + +<p>"He is no blackmailer, at any rate!" she answered fiercely.</p> + +<p>"The Court has ventured to think otherwise," Deane declared.</p> + +<p>She was almost at his side now. Suddenly his eyes caught the sight of +something glittering, something half drawn from the pocket of her dress. +Her wrist was caught in a clasp of iron.</p> + +<p>"Young lady," he said sternly, "are you mad?"</p> + +<p>"If I am, it is your fault," she answered.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" he declared. "You see that policeman there? He is watching +us now. Let go the revolver and be off. I don't want to give you into +custody—my life is worth something for others as well as myself—and I +shall certainly do it unless you obey me."</p> + +<p>She gave a little sob, and her fingers relaxed their hold upon the +revolver, which Deane transferred into his own pocket. She glided away +into the crowd. Deane stepped into his brougham, giving the man the +address of the hotel where Winifred Rowan was staying. He leaned back in +the seat, looking at the little weapon in his hands. Somehow, the fact +of his escape, instead of bringing any exultation with it, seemed to +depress him strangely. Deane had never called himself or believed +himself to be a religious man, yet there was certainly one principle +which had always been part of his creed,—to live and let live. He was +not a greedy capitalist. He could look upon money without any desire to +absorb it. Yet lately he seemed to have been forced into tortuous paths. +From the moment when he had attempted to make use of Rowan as a tool, +everything had gone against him. Rowan himself lay dead in that windy +churchyard, and the words which had been spoken over Rowan's grave were +still fresh in his memory. He had lost Lady Olive, of whom, in a way, he +had been fond. And at her own bidding he was engaged to this strange, +impenetrable girl, a situation which he could not wholly realize, and +yet which he felt to be surrounded with danger and humiliation. Then +there was this other,—Ruby Sinclair,—who had come to London expecting +to find a fortune, and had found nothing but her uncle's dead body. She, +too, looked upon him as a hungry schemer, the indirect cause of her +uncle's death, a robber, if not a murderer! He looked at the little +revolver, opened it carelessly, and laughed as he stared into the empty +breech. It was unloaded, a brand-new toy which had never been +discharged. He threw it into the opposite seat with a little gesture of +contempt. All its tragedy seemed to have passed away. She had bought it +to frighten him with. There had, after all, been no serious purpose in +her mind. She too, perhaps, had hoped to play the part of extortioner.</p> + +<p>What was his offence, he asked himself, as his brougham glided along the +Embankment. Simply this: there had been a claim presented for his mine, +which was, without doubt, a fraud, which few people would ever have +believed in, and which, in a court of law, would have stood but little +chance of success. What a fool he had been not to defy Sinclair, to go +to his directors and tell them the truth, to resist stoutly any claim +the man might bring! Since his first compromise with Rowan, everything +had gone wrong. It was unworthy for a man in his position to have +allowed Rowan even to play the ambassador, apart from anything else. He +saw very clearly in those few minutes where the mistake of his life had +been. What he could not see was whither he was tending.</p> + +<p>Winifred was waiting for him in the hall of the small hotel in Dover +Street. For three days, at her own request, he had not seen her. +Nothing, however, had prepared him for the transformation which he now +saw. She was faultlessly dressed in a gown of the latest design, and a +picture hat which even he recognized as being something quite apart from +the usual efforts of even the Bond Street shopkeepers. In every detail +she seemed to express the wholly self-satisfied, half-insolent +perfection of the woman who knows that she may and does command the best +of everything. And with this change in her dress seemed to have come a +similar change in her deportment. Her aloofness was still evident +enough, but she carried herself with confidence, and with a sort of +languid, graceful ease.</p> + +<p>"You are nearly ten minutes late," she said quietly. "Where are you +taking me to lunch?"</p> + +<p>"Wherever you like," he answered. "What about Prince's?"</p> + +<p>She took a gold purse and a tiny black spaniel from the neatly dressed +maid who stood by her side, and lifting her skirts in her other hand, +passed through the door which he was holding open. The lace of her +petticoat, the slenderness of her arched instep, the delicate narrowness +of her patent shoes, were revelations to him. He gave an order to his +chauffeur, and sat down by her side.</p> + +<p>"You appear," he said, "to possess a gift for assimilation!"</p> + +<p>"My sex is like that," she said. "I have had a good many years to wait, +to store up knowledge in. Besides," she continued, a little mockingly, +"you yourself are supposed to be something exceptional in the way of +grooming, aren't you? There is no need for other people to find our +engagement surprising."</p> + +<p>Looking at her critically, "I think," he said, "that there is no fear of +that."</p> + +<p>"You flatter me," she murmured.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," he answered. "People might wonder, perhaps, how it is +possible to fall in love with anyone whose expression so much resembles +that of those statues in there," pointing to a gallery which they were +passing. "You have no other fault. There is none, at least, to be found +in your appearance. You certainly do look, however, a little inclined to +be faultily faultless."</p> + +<p>She laughed,—a laugh, however, which brought no color into her cheeks +or light into her eyes. "I am a statue," she said, "into which life has +not yet been breathed. You see you have been a little remiss up till +now. You have never attempted to make love to me!"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say—" he asked, leaning towards her,—</p> + +<p>She gently pushed back his hand, saying: "Please don't be ridiculous. Of +course, you must know that overtures of that sort, under the +circumstances, are impossible."</p> + +<p>"For always?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Certainly!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you will draw up a little code of conditions," he remarked. "I +feel a little in the dark sometimes as to what is expected of me."</p> + +<p>"You will easily pick it up as we go along," she replied. "Is this +Prince's? I wonder if I shall succeed in behaving as though I had +lunched here every day of my life!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIVA" id="CHAPTER_XIVA"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>AN AFTERNOON'S SHOPPING</h3> + + +<p>Deane found a singular interest, an interest which amounted almost to +fascination, in watching the demeanor and general deportment of his +companion. Her adaptability was little short of marvellous. She smiled +at the right moment at the obsequious <i>maître d'hôtel</i>, and exhibited +just the proper amount of interest in the luncheon which Deane ordered. +The restaurant was somewhat crowded, but there was no one who attracted +more notice than Deane and the girl who sat opposite him,—slim, and +elegantly dressed,—looking around her with a certain partly veiled +interest, which was all the time in piquant contrast to the languor of +her eyes and manner. She was by no means a silent companion, although +her conversation consisted for the most part of questions. She had an +unerring gift for discovering the most noteworthy of the little crowd by +whom they were surrounded, and she was continually asking questions +about them, with a persistence which clearly indicated an interest +scarcely suggested by her general deportment.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," Deane said, toward the end of their meal, "whether social +preëminence is amongst your carefully veiled ambitions."</p> + +<p>"I am not at all sure," she answered. "Of course, one develops according +to circumstances. In the office of Messrs. Rubicon & Moore I naturally +cared nothing for the world which I could only read about in the columns +of <i>Modern Society</i>. As one comes into touch with things, one +appreciates. It is always interesting to know people."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid," Deane said, with covert satire, "that my friends are +scarcely what you would call fashionable."</p> + +<p>"Your friends?" she remarked, looking up at him. "But that doesn't +matter, does it? I shall make my own friends later on."</p> + +<p>Deane looked across the table. She was patting the head of her little +spaniel, and watching, with a self-possession which amounted almost to +insolence, the exodus of a party from the neighboring table.</p> + +<p>"Young lady," he said, "what sort of a life did you lead before you went +to Messrs. Rubicon & Moore's? I always understood that your people were +very poor, and only respectably connected."</p> + +<p>"You understood the truth," she answered, with composure.</p> + +<p>"Will you tell me, then," he asked, "how you learned to wear your +clothes?—how you picked up all the little tricks of social life?"</p> + +<p>The very faintest of smiles parted her lips, a smile that wrinkled at +the corners of her eyes, and suddenly altered her appearance so that +Deane was forced to recognize the charm which even to himself he had +denied.</p> + +<p>"My dear Mr. Deane," she said, "it is the natural heritage of a woman to +assimilate quickly, especially," she added, after a moment's pause, +"amongst surroundings for which she has had a great desire. Many a time +when I was typing price-lists in that wretched little office, in a black +alpaca gown, with my hat hanging up opposite me,—a black straw with +faded flowers, which had cost me three or four shillings, with darned +stockings and patched boots,—many a time I have left off typing for a +few minutes, and thought and wondered what this must be like. I suppose +I have what you would call a natural aptitude for it. It is because I +have thought of it, pondered over it, desired it."</p> + +<p>Deane looked at her wonderingly. "Well," he said, "let me congratulate +you. You play the game to perfection. If I were in a position to make +terms—"</p> + +<p>"You are not," she interrupted shortly. "Please to pay the bill. I am +going to take you shopping."</p> + +<p>They left the brougham at the corner of Bond Street. Winifred had +signified her desire to walk for a little time. Deane found himself +becoming thoroughly interested—not, as he told himself, in his +companion herself, but in his study of her. The women they passed she +subjected, nearly every one of them, to a close and comprehensive +scrutiny. At the men she scarcely glanced. She found, perhaps, her +greatest interest in the shop windows. She led him across the road to +the establishment of a great jeweller.</p> + +<p>"You have not given me an engagement ring," she said, a little abruptly. +"We will go in and choose one."</p> + +<p>He followed her obediently into the shop, and stood by her side while +she described minutely the sort of ring she required. Her manner +inspired instant respect. She knew exactly what she wanted, and what she +wanted was the rarest and most beautiful stones, set in the newest +fashion. She showed very little enthusiasm—hesitated, even—over the +ring which was produced at last, after a little hesitation, and shown +almost with reverence. It had been made for a queen, but something had +gone wrong—a matter of politics—and they had not dared to part with +it. Even Deane stared when the man at his elbow whispered the price, but +Winifred never moved a muscle.</p> + +<p>"I think it will do," she said, turning to him. "It is very nearly what +I wanted. And I want a few pins—emeralds and diamonds I prefer."</p> + +<p>The shopman was already producing a tray from the window. She spoke of +pearls, and examined those that were shown her with the air of a +connoisseur.</p> + +<p>"I shall want a rope of pearls very soon," she told the man, "but not +just yet. Perhaps you will let Mr. Deane know when you have enough of +the ones the color and size I like."</p> + +<p>"It will give us very great pleasure, madam, to collect them," the man +said, bowing.</p> + +<p>Deane produced his cheque-book—fortunately, he was well known—and +wrote a cheque for over two thousand pounds in exchange for the receipt +which the man handed to him. Winifred calmly withdrew her glove and +slipped on the ring. The other things she asked them to send. When she +left the shop, it seemed to Deane that there was a little more color in +her cheeks and a deeper light in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Jewelry interests you?" he remarked, as they stood for a moment on the +pavement.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" she answered. "Of course it does. Everything of this sort +interests me. Haven't I longed all my days to feel the touch of pearls +upon my bare neck, to have something like this upon my finger that I +could look at and worship, not only for itself but for the things it +represents? Come and buy me some flowers. My sitting-room is a +wilderness. Afterwards, I am going into the milliner's beyond."</p> + +<p>Deane followed her obediently into the florist's opposite. She chose a +great bowl of pink roses and some white lilac.</p> + +<p>"How many of the roses, madam?" the shopman asked her.</p> + +<p>She looked at him with faintly upraised eyebrows. "Oh! send them as they +are," she answered carelessly.</p> + +<p>"There are four dozen, madam," the man remarked, bowing.</p> + +<p>She nodded indifferently. The fact that they were a shilling each did +not appear to interest her.</p> + +<p>"Is that all the lilacs you have?" she asked, as they were leaving the +shop.</p> + +<p>"All we have at present, madam," the man answered.</p> + +<p>"Please get some more," she said, "if you can. These hotel +sitting-rooms," she added, turning to Deane, "seem to have a sort of +odor of their own. One can only get rid of it by having flowers +everywhere. Now I am going in here," she said, stopping at a tiny +milliner's. "You must wait for me—I know you are dying to smoke a +cigarette—but you had better give me your pocket-book."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid," Deane answered imperturbably, "that its contents will be +of little use to you, for I have only twenty pounds with me. If you will +take these"—he handed her the notes—"I will take a taximeter and cash +a cheque. I shall only be a few minutes."</p> + +<p>She nodded, and disappeared into the shop. When she came out again Deane +had returned from his little expedition, and was talking to some men +whom he knew. They glanced at Winifred a little curiously as they raised +their hats and passed on.</p> + +<p>"We can perhaps continue our shopping," Deane said, "more comfortably +now."</p> + +<p>She ignored the faint note of satire in his tone. "One needs so many +things," she murmured. "The woman inside is just making out my bill. I +think I shall want another thirty pounds."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid," he said, "that you have not been able to find what you +wanted. The amount seems trivial."</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, "there was a lace dressing-gown about which I could +not quite make up my mind. Perhaps, after all, I had better have it."</p> + +<p>She turned back into the shop, and he followed her. The lace +dressing-gown was still lying upon a chair, and in a few moments Deane +found it being held up before him by a vivacious little Frenchwoman, who +was endeavoring to convince him that in it Madame would look a dream. It +was very filmy, very dainty, wonderfully expensive. Deane heard the +price without moving a muscle.</p> + +<p>"I think you had better have it," he said. "I am sure," he went on, +looking into her eyes, "that you will look charming in it."</p> + +<p>For the first time he seemed to score. She bent over some lace +handkerchiefs, as though anxious to avoid his gaze. "Very well," she +said, "I think that will be all now. Please pay, and let us go."</p> + +<p>Once more they were in the streets.</p> + +<p>"I want a dressing-bag," she said, a little abruptly.</p> + +<p>"By all means," he answered. "We had better go back to the jeweller's. +Do you prefer mother-of-pearl fittings, or gold?"</p> + +<p>"I am not sure," she answered. "I should like to look at some."</p> + +<p>They were twenty minutes or so making a selection. Deane wrote another +cheque, and stuffed another receipt into his pocket. He had made a few +suggestions himself, which had increased the cost considerably.</p> + +<p>"Where to now?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I want some gloves," she said. "Perhaps you would rather go back to +your office now. I must not take up your whole afternoon."</p> + +<p>"I am entirely at your service," he assured her. "Believe me, I find +shopping quite an interesting novelty."</p> + +<p>"You mean," she said, "that you like to watch the effect upon me. You +think I don't understand. It is quite easy. Tell me how I seem to you?"</p> + +<p>"You seem very much to the manner born," he answered, "but you seem +also, if I may say so, as though you were getting rid of the pent-up +desires of years. For instance," he added, as they strolled along the +south side of the street, "there is a certain almost fierceness—I won't +say barbarism—in the way you absorb the things you desire. I am not +complaining," he added quickly. "As a matter of fact, I am rather +inclined to welcome any note of humanity. So long as we are engaged," he +added, looking at her sideways, "one would just as soon feel that one +were engaged to a living person as an automaton."</p> + +<p>She kept her eyes averted, but he saw the faint spot of color burning in +her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"This is where I think I shall get the gloves I want," she said.</p> + +<p>"I will come in with you, if I may," he answered.</p> + +<p>Her purchases here showed a little more restraint. Nevertheless, +everything she chose was the best of its sort. When she came out, her +appetite seemed somehow whetted. She walked along the street almost +listlessly.</p> + +<p>"Do you know that it is nearly half-past four?" he said. "You had better +let me give you some tea."</p> + +<p>She nodded indifferently. "Thank you. That would be very nice."</p> + +<p>"Will you come to my rooms," he asked, "or shall we go into the Carlton +and hear the music?"</p> + +<p>She looked at him quickly, and then back into a shop window. "To the +Carlton, if you please," she said coldly.</p> + +<p>They walked to the corner of the street and stood waiting while the +brougham came round to them. She turned toward a florist's and looked +into the window.</p> + +<p>"You would like some more flowers?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She led him into the shop without a word. There was a cluster of red +roses over which she bent and selected one. "I should like this, +please," she said.</p> + +<p>"One only, madam?" the shopman asked.</p> + +<p>"One only," she answered composedly. "I will pin it in here if you will +cut the stalk a little," she added, removing a brooch from the bosom of +her gown. "Will you pay for this, please?" she added, turning to Deane.</p> + +<p>He was taken aback for a moment. "You are sure that there is nothing +else?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," she answered.</p> + +<p>They left the shop and he handed her into the brougham. Deane was +suddenly conscious that his pulse was beating a little faster, even +though her fingers had lain in his absolutely unresponsive. He was +wondering what sort of a whim it was which had led her to desire that +one flower.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVA" id="CHAPTER_XVA"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>A FRIEND</h3> + + +<p>A man in the city, who was an old friend of Lord Nunneley, stopped the +latter as he was on the point of entering his club.</p> + +<p>"By the bye, Nunneley," he said, "did I understand—I think I saw it in +the papers—that the marriage between your daughter and Stirling Deane +was off?"</p> + +<p>"The engagement has been broken off," answered Lord Nunneley, a little +stiffly. "Why?"</p> + +<p>"That's all right," said the man. "The only thing was that as I was one +of the people you came to, to ask about Deane, I felt that if it was +still on I ought to tell you that things aren't supposed to be just the +same as they were."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean about Deane?" asked Lord Nunneley.</p> + +<p>His friend nodded. "There are some very curious rumors going about," he +said. "You remember, of course, his charging a man named Hefferom—a +South African—with an attempt at blackmail the other day? The man was +committed for trial, and there was not much came out in the evidence +before the magistrates. Since then, however, people have been talking. +They say that Hefferom had actual knowledge of documents proving that +Deane's title to the Little Anna Gold-Mine was a false one, and that the +mine in reality belonged to Hefferom himself and a partner."</p> + +<p>"That sounds like a very curious story," Lord Nunneley remarked. "If it +is true, why doesn't Hefferom produce his document and have done with +it?"</p> + +<p>"Because it has been stolen," the other answered. "There are all sorts +of stories going about, too, concerning the theft. The point remains, +however, that there is a strong feeling that the document in question +does exist, and that it may turn up. If so, of course, it would ruin +Deane. I see that the shares of his corporation have had a most +tremendous drop, so it seems as though there might be something in it. +Buy a special edition this afternoon, and you'll know more about it."</p> + +<p>Lord Nunneley nodded. "Thank you," he said, "I will do so."</p> + +<p>Lord Nunneley walked slowly along Pall Mall. After all, there was no +need to buy a paper. On the placards which the boys were displaying as +he neared Trafalgar Square were great headlines,—</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Extraordinary Drop of Shares in the Gold-Mines Association. +Panic in the City.</span></p></blockquote> + +<p>Lord Nunneley bought a paper, and stood for a few minutes reading it. +Then he called a taxicab, and gave the man the address of Deane's +offices. He was well known there, and Deane's confidential man at once +came forward.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Deane will see you, of course, my lord," he said. "He is really +disengaged now, but we are obliged to deny him to everybody because of +these interviewers. Will you come with me, my lord?"</p> + +<p>Lord Nunneley found himself ushered into Deane's private room. Deane was +dictating rapidly to his secretary. As usual he was calm, +self-possessed, carefully groomed and dressed. There was nothing about +his appearance in any way to suggest a panic. He heard his visitor's +name, however, with surprise.</p> + +<p>"Nunneley!" he exclaimed, rising to his feet.</p> + +<p>Lord Nunneley nodded, and held out his hand. "I was in the city and +thought I'd look you up, Deane," he said. "Can I have a word or two with +you?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," Deane answered. "Give us five minutes, Ellison,—or stay +away until I ring," he added to his secretary.</p> + +<p>Lord Nunneley accepted an easy-chair and also a cigarette, but he seemed +in no great hurry to explain his business. "I was very sorry, Deane," he +said at last, "to see the papers this evening. I hope the trouble isn't +very serious."</p> + +<p>"Do you hold any of our shares?" Deane asked.</p> + +<p>"If I did," said the other, coloring a little, "I should not have come +here."</p> + +<p>Deane accepted the reproof. "I beg your pardon."</p> + +<p>"I daresay," continued Lord Nunneley, "my coming seems to you, under the +circumstances, a little superfluous. However, what I wanted to say is +this. You see Olive is our only child, and that made us very anxious +about anything to do with her. I am sure that you yourself must feel +now, when you are under so much anxiety, that it is better not to have +the added responsibility of your engagement upon your shoulders."</p> + +<p>"I have never questioned your wisdom in breaking it off," Deane said +quietly. "Under the circumstances, I agree with you that it is a very +good thing."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Lord Nunneley continued, a little hastily. "Of +course, neither you nor Olive are children, and you are not the sort to +wear your hearts upon your sleeve. In short," he added, somewhat +abruptly, "you'll both get over it. There's no doubt about that. I +didn't come to revert to this matter at all. I simply wanted to say that +though our relations are changed, I still do feel a considerable amount +of friendship for you, Deane, and I wanted to come and just tell you I +was sorry. And look here," he went on, a little awkwardly, "I've between +seven and eight thousand pounds for which I am looking for an +investment, and if the money's any use to you, Deane, why say the word, +and I'll write you a cheque on the spot."</p> + +<p>Deane looked at his visitor for a moment in an astonishment which +triumphed over the natural impassivity of his expression. Then a little +flush rose in his cheeks. He got to his feet and held out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Nunneley," he said, "this is awfully good of you. I shall not forget +it. Believe that. If we wanted money, or if I did personally, I'd accept +your offer like a shot."</p> + +<p>"Too much of a drop in the bucket, I suppose," Lord Nunneley remarked. +"It isn't much, I know."</p> + +<p>"It isn't that," Deane interrupted. "The situation is simply that our +shares have had a big drop because of certain rumors about our title to +the Little Anna Gold-Mine. If those rumors were confirmed, five or six +hundred thousand pounds wouldn't help us. If they are not confirmed, and +if they die a natural death, as I imagine they must, our shares will +recover themselves and we shall not need money."</p> + +<p>"You don't believe in the existence of any such document, then?" Lord +Nunneley asked.</p> + +<p>"I do not believe that it will be produced," Deane answered, "and if it +were produced," he went on, "I do not believe in its validity. I would +not say as much, even, as this to the reporters, but the document about +which people have been talking is simply an original claim to the Little +Anna Gold-Mine, which was deserted by the very man who put me on to it, +and in whose name the claim stands. You see, therefore, that any attempt +to establish a legal claim is more or less a swindle."</p> + +<p>Lord Nunneley rose to his feet. "You are really not so very much +alarmed, then?"</p> + +<p>Deane shook his head. "This drop in shares, after all," he said, "does +not affect us particularly, except for the time. It simply means that +the market declares that we are a few hundred thousand pounds poorer +to-day than we were yesterday. Whether the market is right or not +remains to be proved."</p> + +<p>"Well, I am glad to have seen you, at any rate, Deane, and remember, if +there is anything I can do—"</p> + +<p>"You have already," Deane said, "done a great deal, Lord Nunneley. I +shall not forget your visit or your offer."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Lord Nunneley declared. "Olive did not know I was +coming, but I'm sure if she had known she would have sent her love. +Don't bother to ring. I can find my way out."</p> + +<p>The visit of his projected father-in-law seemed to Deane like a pleasant +little oasis in the middle of a long, dreary day. These rumors of which +Lord Nunneley had heard seemed to have come into existence during the +last few hours. There had been some large failures lately, and investors +were all nervous. The country was short of money. In ordinary times, an +attack upon the stability of such a corporation as his would have been +impossible. To-day, nothing seemed impossible. In his heart, Deane knew +or felt that the situation was safe. Yet the very fact that these rumors +had sprung into being seemed to denote the line of defence which +Hefferom's lawyers were prepared to offer in the coming trial. He would +be accused everywhere—if not in words, in suggestion—of complicity in +the murder of Sinclair. The existence of that document would be believed +in. It would be said openly, perhaps, that he was responsible himself +for its suppression. It was not the fact that on paper he was nearly a +quarter of a million poorer than he had been a week ago that troubled +him. It was the reflection that bold though his words had been, it was +within the power of the man who lay awaiting his trial practically to +ruin him. The question of the whereabouts of the document might be, in a +few weeks, the most discussed matter in London.</p> + +<p>Deane, acting upon a sudden impulse, left his office by the back +entrance and drove to the small hotel where Winifred was staying. Miss +Rowan was at home, he was told, and after a few minutes' delay he was +shown into her sitting-room.</p> + +<p>"Miss Rowan will be with you in a moment," her maid announced, coming +through from the bedroom. "She is with her dressmaker at present."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded, and took up the newspaper mechanically from the table. The +room seemed to him almost faint with the perfume of flowers. He glanced +around carelessly, and suddenly found his attention riveted upon her +writing-table. In a little silver vase, standing by itself, was the red +rose which he had bought for her two days since!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIA" id="CHAPTER_XVIA"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>PASSION</h3> + + +<p>She came to him in a few moments, dressed in a fascinating negligée +gown,—came to him with a rustle of silk and a faint expression of +surprise upon her upraised eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"I did not expect you until this evening," she remarked.</p> + +<p>He nodded. "I took the liberty of coming here to ask you a question."</p> + +<p>She smiled as she sat down upon the sofa. "Oh, the paper is quite safe."</p> + +<p>"How did you know what I came for?" he asked, a little startled.</p> + +<p>"My dear friend," she said, shrugging her shoulders, "as I have +decided that it is to my interests to link my future with yours, +you cannot wonder that I have found such details as those"—she +pointed to an evening paper which he noticed now lying upon her +writing-table—"interesting. I have been trying to understand how +matters stand. Tell me if I am right! It seems to me that so long as +that document remains an imagined thing, so long as it is not produced +or sworn to definitely, you are safe."</p> + +<p>"The corporation is safe," answered Deane, "and in a measure, I suppose, +I am. On the other hand, I shall be accused, naturally, of suppressing +it, and probably of complicity in Sinclair's murder. There is Hefferom, +you see, prepared to swear that Sinclair came to London with that paper +in his possession. Sinclair is known to have come to my office. He has +certainly been murdered. The paper cannot be found, and the corporation +remains in possession of the mine. People will certainly put these +things together."</p> + +<p>She nodded. "It will be very bad indeed," she said slowly, "for your +reputation."</p> + +<p>"It will, I am afraid," said Deane, "considerably lessen my social value +as your husband."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me," she replied, "that money is so powerful. I daresay you +will be able to live it down."</p> + +<p>"With your help," Deane remarked sarcastically, "it seems to me very +possible. By the bye," he continued, "with reference to that document, +you must forgive me if I feel some slight uneasiness at times as to its +safety."</p> + +<p>"You need have none," she answered. "It is in safe keeping."</p> + +<p>"It is your own interests as well as mine you are guarding," he reminded +her.</p> + +<p>"I am perfectly aware of it," she answered. "Since you are here, may I +offer you some tea?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks," he said, "I think not. By the bye, do you care to go to the +Opera to-night? I have two stalls, and Melba is singing."</p> + +<p>A sudden light flashed over her face. It was as though the mask had been +raised for a moment. Perhaps by contrast her tone seemed colder than +ever as she answered him. "I should like to very much. Will you call for +me?"</p> + +<p>"At half-past seven," he answered. "We will have a little dinner +somewhere first."</p> + +<p>"You are sure," she asked, "that you do not mind being seen out?"</p> + +<p>"It is all to my advantage," he answered. "The men who are most talked +about should never shrink from publicity. The people who have been told +to-day that I am a bankrupt, a swindler, and a murderer, and that my +ruin is only a matter of minutes, will hesitate if they see me with you +in the stalls of the Opera to-night."</p> + +<p>"Nero fiddled," she reminded him.</p> + +<p>"Nero was a hysterical person," he answered. "My tendencies are towards +the other extreme. Until half-past seven, then."</p> + +<p>"Until half-past seven," she repeated.</p> + +<p>He bowed and left her without even shaking hands. She stood quite still +for a moment, looking at the door which he had closed behind him. Then +she crossed the room slowly, and lifted the vase with its solitary rose +to her lips. A second later it lay dashed to pieces upon the floor, the +flaming color was in her cheeks, her fists were clenched.</p> + +<p>"I hate him!" she declared to herself. "I hate him now more than ever!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus4" id="illus4"></a> +<img src="images/illus4.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"I hate him!" she declared to herself. "I hate him now more than ever!"</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>Winifred talked more than usual at the short dinner which they had at a +famous café close to the Opera House. Deane, a little weary with the +strain of the day, was at first irresponsive, but gradually he forgot +himself in the interest of playing his new part. She was wearing a dress +of black velvet, a rope of pearls which had been sent for her inspection +only that afternoon, and pearl earrings, concerning which she gravely +asked his opinion. There was something a little un-English-looking about +her to-night,—about the small, delicate head with the masses of brown +hair, the pale complexion, the deep eyes with their hidden depths, the +pearls which fell so gracefully over her black gown. Many people knew +him by sight, and pointed him out to others,—the man whom everyone was +talking about, the man who was supposed to be shivering on the brink of +social and financial ruin, whose very freedom from justice might be a +matter of hours,—sitting there with a girl who was unknown to all of +them, yet without a doubt one of his own world! Some of them wondered +that she should care to be seen about with him at such a time. These, +however, were mostly the men. The women, who saw him as usual, +well-groomed, good-looking, debonair, only admired him the more for his +courage.</p> + +<p>They had driven the few yards together to the Opera House in silence. +Nevertheless, Deane fancied that his companion seemed to-night a little +more accessible. He was amazed to find how great an interest he was +beginning to take in her moods, amazed to find himself taking every +opportunity to touch her fingers, to speak covertly of the destined +ending of their engagement. He fancied sometimes that her fingers rested +more softly in his, that the chill aloofness of her demeanor had been +more than once on the point of being raised. And yet, after all, it +might only be fancy, he thought, as he followed her and the attendant +along the corridor into their places. He was a fool to trouble himself +about it. She was very likely what she had always seemed,—a bloodless, +indifferent creature, with a greed for jewels and fine clothes sprung up +in her,—a fungus growth, the evil result of her long years of +servitude. Yet that night his convictions as to her coldness received +something of a shock. It was the first night they had been to the Opera +together, and he had imagined that she would sit as she had sat through +so many theatres,—slightly bored, slightly nonchalant, interested only +to know who the people might be by whom they were surrounded, and in the +play itself if by chance it was well acted and satisfactory. To-night, +he realized that there were things which could move her, even if he +himself had not the power. He saw her eyes flash with the glory of the +music, and he saw them turn marvellously soft and tender as the +white-robed Iseult sang to them with sobs in her throat, sobs which +seemed to make that melody only more intense and sweeter. She seemed to +respond to every note of the music. More than once he saw her quiver +with excitement. By accident her fingers touched his and rested there. +He felt a thrill which amazed him. For the moment he, too, forgot that +wretched maze of affairs in which he was plunged. The great passionate +love-story throbbed, too, in his heart and veins. The figures on the +stage were for a moment dim. They existed only as types. In those few +seconds he realized, for the first time in his life, the real meaning of +this wonderful emotion with which the very air around them seemed +charged, and almost at the moment of realization there came to him +fiercely, insistently, the great question,—did she share it, did she +understand, was it possible that such a passion could be born of itself, +without response or encouragement? He leaned forward, and tried to see +into her face. A great stillness reigned in the half-darkened Opera +House, a stillness except for the wonderful music which still flowed +from those divine lips. He leaned forward until he could see her face, +and his heart throbbed with the wonder of it! All the passion, all the +intense mystery of a strenuous love were there in her glowing eyes, her +half-parted lips! It was only a momentary glimpse he had. Then, as +though conscious of his observation, she raised her fan. Their eyes had +never met. He was left, after all, with the problem unsolved!</p> + +<p>Deane came down to earth again as the curtain fell. His companion drew a +long, soft breath, and leaned back in her seat.</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to go out and smoke or something?" she asked calmly. "I +do not feel like talking at all. The music is wonderful!"</p> + +<p>He left her without a word. Only as he reached the end of his row and +turned to walk up the sloping aisle, he glanced back once more. She had +not moved. Her eyes were closed. She seemed, indeed, like a person +exhausted with the strain of listening. He made his way out to the +refreshment room, humming softly to himself. It was a mask, after all, +which she wore! He understood suddenly the relief which had come to him. +He understood that this engagement, which had seemed to him like a piece +of half-contemptible bathos, had suddenly become the first and most +desirable thing in his life!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIIA" id="CHAPTER_XVIIA"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>A DESPAIRING CALL</h3> + + +<p>The great lawyer whom the telephone message from Deane had summoned sat +in a comfortable easy-chair adjoining Deane's writing-table. His manner +was serious, but not discouraging.</p> + +<p>"You see, Deane," he said, "after all, it depends very much upon this +alleged document. The whole case practically hinges upon it. If the +defendants are unable to procure it, or a copy of it, or witnesses who +can swear to it, I do not think that they can do us much harm, +especially if we take the course which I have already suggested to our +counsel. As yet we have received no intimation that the other side have +the slightest trace of the document in question. If, on the other hand, +it should come into their possession, they are bound to notify us. May I +ask, Mr. Deane, what you believe the probabilities are as regards this +matter?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't a matter of probability," Deane answered. "To the best of my +belief, there is no such document in existence."</p> + +<p>"In that case," the lawyer continued, "I think that you need have no +further anxiety about the case. Of course, there is no chance of a long +sentence for the defendant. You understand that?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly," Deane answered. "I don't wish it. I should not have +prosecuted him at all, but it seemed the only way to stop what might +have grown into a serious annoyance."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," the lawyer said, "that the whole thing seems to have been +taken so seriously by the Press and the public. I see your shares have +dropped to a ridiculous amount."</p> + +<p>"A chance for someone to make money," Deane remarked. "I am much obliged +to you for coming up, Hardaway."</p> + +<p>The lawyer nodded and took his departure. Deane sat for some time in a +brown study. Fundamentally he had all the direct impulses and +propensities of a truthful man. The course of action into which he was +at present driven was distasteful—almost repugnant to him. Yet, after +all, he was only fighting Hefferom with his own weapons. The man was a +blackmailer,—nothing more or less. Yet the fact did not seem to Deane +to make his hands the cleaner. And there was the girl! The memory of her +face haunted him, her desperate plight had been only too apparent. If +that document of Sinclair's was worth the paper it was written on, it +was he who was the supplanter, the thief, morally responsible for her +grievous plight! He moved in his chair uneasily. It was almost a relief +when the telephone bell at his elbow rang.</p> + +<p>"Is that Mr. Deane?" a woman's voice asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" he answered.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Stirling Deane?"</p> + +<p>"Yes,—what is it?" he asked quickly.</p> + +<p>There was a moment's silence. The terrified voice, which had still +seemed somehow familiar to him, was silent. He could hear from the room +to which the instrument was connected, the musical chiming of a Swiss +clock—the call of a bird—and then silence. His hand was upon the +receiver to ring up the Exchange when suddenly a cry of terror, a cry of +shrill, agonized terror, rang in his ear.</p> + +<p>"Stirling! Mr. Deane! Stirling! Come—"</p> + +<p>There was an abrupt cessation of that frantic cry. The last word was +muffled, as though something had been dashed against the speaker's +mouth. There was the sound of the falling of a chair or heavy piece of +furniture. Then silence!—silence ominous, heavy, maddening!...</p> + +<p>Deane rang up the Exchange. The young lady who answered him was a little +annoyed at his vehemence.</p> + +<p>"I want you to tell me to whom I have been speaking!" he exclaimed. +"Where was I rung up from a few moments ago?"</p> + +<p>"No idea," the young lady answered tartly. "Didn't they give their +name?"</p> + +<p>"I want to know where the call was from," Deane said. "Please tell me +quickly."</p> + +<p>"We don't take any note of local calls," the young lady answered. "Ring +off, please!"</p> + +<p>"Stop!" Deane cried. "Listen, please! This is important! I am Mr. +Deane—Mr. Stirling Deane—of the Incorporated Gold-Mines Association. I +have just been rung up by a woman in distress—some one who appealed for +help. She was dragged away from the telephone before she could tell me +where she was speaking from. You must try and find out the number for +me. You must do it! It may be a matter of life or death!"</p> + +<p>There was an instant's silence—a buzzing noise—then a man's voice. +"Sorry, sir," he said, "our operator cannot remember the exact number +that was speaking to you. It was a house in Red Lion Square, though. She +is sure of that."</p> + +<p>"How many subscribers have you there?" Deane asked swiftly.</p> + +<p>"Twenty-four or five, sir," the man answered. "Sorry we can't help you +further."</p> + +<p>Deane left the office in such a hurry that a whole crop of fresh rumors +were started. He drove as swiftly as his electric brougham could take +him to the corner of Red Lion Square. All the time with a telephone +directory on his knee, he was copying out addresses. He entered Red Lion +Square on foot, with the paper in his hand. There were twenty-eight +addresses. He had no idea where to begin.</p> + +<p>Seven or eight were the addresses of business firms. He struck these +out. Then he tried the others. One after the other he interviewed all +sorts of people unsuccessfully. He was received everywhere with +suspicion. Most of the houses were converted flats or cheap +lodging-houses. Half-dressed women leered at him over the banisters; +shabby men of all ages were slavishly anxious to earn a tip. Gradually +he was forced to realize that his was a mad, almost hopeless search. +People stood at their doors and watched him, jeering. Women hung out of +the windows, shouting coarse invitations or derisive comments upon his +perseverance. His nerves were all on edge, his blood was hot with anger. +Somewhere within a few hundred, perhaps a few yards of him, this girl +was in the hands of persons who meant ill to her. The terror in her +voice was no ordinary fear. She was face to face with the worst that +could happen.</p> + +<p>He reached the last house on his list. It was on the further side of the +square, and one of the most respectable in appearance. Contrary to what +was apparently the usual custom, the front door was closed, and most of +the blinds drawn. There was no sign of life about the place when he rang +the bell. Yet after scarcely a moment's delay the door was thrown open, +and a neatly dressed parlor-maid answered his summons.</p> + +<p>Deane adopted new tactics. He drew a sovereign from his waistcoat +pocket, and held it between his fingers. "You are on the telephone, I +believe," he said, "number 0198. Someone rang me up from here about an +hour or so ago. I recognized the voice, but the message was indistinct. +Will you tell Miss Rowan that I am here?"</p> + +<p>The girl shook her head. "There is no one of that name living here, +sir," she answered.</p> + +<p>"A rather pale young lady, tall and slim, who has just arrived," Deane +persisted. "I am anxious to find her quickly. Can't you help me?"</p> + +<p>He pulled out a handful of gold, and the girl looked at it with covetous +eyes. She sighed as she once more shook her head.</p> + +<p>"There is no one here of that name, sir," she said,—"no young lady at +all, in fact."</p> + +<p>"You are quite sure?" Deane asked, with a sinking heart.</p> + +<p>"Quite, sir," the girl answered confidently.</p> + +<p>She made a movement as though to close the door. It is possible that +Deane would have taken the hint and departed, but for that last +searching look which he threw at her. He thrust his boot against the +door, and resumed his place on the inner side of the threshold. From +there he looked at her once more. He was right. There were traces of +powder on her cheeks, and her eyebrows were certainly not natural. +Underneath her trim black skirt he had caught a glimpse of brown +open-worked stockings, and tan shoes with a large bow and high heels. +Instinctively he felt that no ordinary servant would have been allowed +to go about like this.</p> + +<p>"I should like to see your mistress before I go," Deane said firmly. +"Please go and tell her. I will not detain her more than a few moments."</p> + +<p>"She's not in," the girl answered, with a distinct change of manner. +"Please don't stay about here or I shall get into trouble."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," Deane answered, "but if she is not in, I am going to wait +for her."</p> + +<p>He was in the hall now,—a miserable, untidy place with a broken-down +mirror and hat-rack as sole furniture, and covered with a much soiled +oilcloth. The stairs were right ahead of him, and Deane looked up. He +looked into a woman's face as she leaned over the well of the banisters, +looking down. Almost immediately she drew away and came down.</p> + +<p>Deane rose up to meet her. She was dressed in black, was very pale, with +large earrings,—pretty in a way, and certainly not of formidable +appearance.</p> + +<p>"You wished to see me?" she asked, a little hesitatingly, as she reached +the bottom stair. "I thought I heard you tell my servant that you wished +to speak to her mistress."</p> + +<p>"You are right, madam," Deane answered. "I do wish to speak to you."</p> + +<p>"And what is it that you wish?" the lady asked.</p> + +<p>"An act of kindness," Deane answered, "for which I am willing to pay—to +pay heavily. I am in search of a young lady who rang me up only an hour +or so ago from this locality,—I believe from this house. I am offering +a reward of two hundred pounds for any one who may help me in my +search."</p> + +<p>He raised his voice. He meant the servant, or the person who was posing +as a servant, to hear him. He was unable to observe her closely, but he +noticed that she moved a little nearer, and appeared to be listening +intently.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid that you have come to the wrong house," the lady answered +gently. "This is not a very nice neighborhood, I know, but we are quite +respectable people here, and we are not upon the telephone at all."</p> + +<p>"Not on the telephone at all?" Deane repeated. "But I have your name and +number from the telephone company,—number 0198—Mrs. Garvice!"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Garvice has left," the lady declared. "I have taken the house, but +the telephone was of no use to me, so I have had it taken away."</p> + +<p>"May I see the place where the instrument was?" Deane asked. "I have a +particular reason for asking."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not!" the lady answered, a little sharply. "Open the door, +Hilda. We have nothing else to say to you, sir."</p> + +<p>The maid obeyed, and Deane reluctantly took up his hat. He was already +upon the threshold when he suddenly stopped. A remarkable change came +over him. He stepped quickly back. The woman had gone as pale as death. +From one of the rooms upstairs came the shrill, unmistakable summons of +a telephone bell, and mingling with it the chiming of a cuckoo clock.</p> + +<p>"Shut the door," Deane ordered sternly. "Madam," he said, turning +towards the lady of the house, "it is still within your power to earn +that two hundred pounds!"</p> + +<p>The woman looked at him curiously. "Two hundred pounds," she said, "is a +great deal of money. One does not carry about sums like that."</p> + +<p>Deane thrust his hand into his pocket, and drew out a little roll of +notes. "I have twelve ten-pound notes here," he said, "and I can write a +cheque for the balance. You know what I want. If you turn me away, I +shall be back with a search warrant in less than half-an-hour."</p> + +<p>She held out her hand for the notes. "Follow me," she said. "You +understand that I am simply a lodging-house keeper. I cannot be +responsible for my tenants or their actions."</p> + +<p>"I understand that," Deane answered eagerly. "Quick! Lead the way +upstairs."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIIIA" id="CHAPTER_XVIIIA"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>WINIFRED IS TRAPPED</h3> + + +<p>Deane followed his guide up two flights of stairs,—on the landing of +the third she paused.</p> + +<p>"I do not usually interfere with the comings and goings of my lodgers," +she said. "They pay for their rooms. That is all I ask. You see the door +opposite you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" Deane answered quickly.</p> + +<p>"That room is tenanted by a young woman who called herself Montague, but +received letters under the name of Sinclair. She had a visitor this +afternoon who might be the young person of whom you are in search. You +had better go in and see."</p> + +<p>Deane was across the landing in a moment. He tapped sharply upon the +door. There was no answer. He tried the handle. The door was locked!</p> + +<p>"Open the door," he cried out, shaking it vigorously.</p> + +<p>There was no answer. To Deane the silence was ominous. He turned to the +woman who stood silently by his side, with a fierce little exclamation. +"Where is the telephone?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Inside there," she answered. "It used to be my sitting-room."</p> + +<p>"The door is locked!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"I do not understand it," she admitted.</p> + +<p>"Have you another key?"</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>He flung himself at the door, tearing it half from its hinges. Another +assault, and with a tearing of splinters it fell inside. Deane stepped +over it into the room, and a low cry of anger broke from his lips. The +woman at his side fled shrieking downstairs. On the floor lay Winifred +Rowan, her limbs bound with cords, a gag in her mouth, her clothing all +dishevelled, her eyes shining with an almost painful intensity from her +ashen gray face. Deane fell on his knees by her side.</p> + +<p>"Winifred!" he exclaimed. "My God!"</p> + +<p>He snatched his knife from his pocket, removed the gag from her mouth, +and cut all her bonds. Her hands tried nervously to rearrange her dress +over her bosom. He tore off his own coat and threw it over her.</p> + +<p>"Are you badly hurt?" he asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I am not hurt much," she answered weakly, "but—"</p> + +<p>"But what?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>She commenced to cry softly but insistently. Black fear rose up to +torture him. "But what?" he repeated, with sinking heart.</p> + +<p>"It has gone!" she murmured, crossing her hands upon her bosom.</p> + +<p>"What has gone?" he asked. "Quick!"</p> + +<p>"The deed!" she whispered. "Don't look at me like that. I couldn't help +it. It was a trap, of course, to get me here, and I was a fool. The +letter was from you, but I ought to have known that it was a forgery. I +was taken unawares. She was like a madwoman. She would have torn the +clothes from my body. I struggled. I called out. It was no use. She has +taken it away."</p> + +<p>"But you are not hurt?" he exclaimed anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I—no!" she answered, a little vacantly. "But it is gone! I was not fit +to be trusted with it. I ought to have given it up to you."</p> + +<p>She was very pale, and he was afraid of her fainting. He summoned the +landlady once more. She was waiting on the stairs close by.</p> + +<p>"Something very serious has happened here," he said, sternly. "This +young lady has been assaulted and robbed."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I'm very sorry," the woman declared. "You can't blame any of +us, though. I never heard a sound, no more did Hilda, and I can't +prevent my lodgers having visitors."</p> + +<p>"We won't discuss it," Deane said sharply. "But if this is Miss +Montague's room,—"</p> + +<p>"It isn't," the woman interrupted. "It's my sitting-room. Miss Montague +has only an attic, and she came to me and said that she couldn't receive +a visitor there, and asked me to lend her my room for a few minutes."</p> + +<p>Deane nodded. "The other rooms on this floor are unoccupied, of course," +he said. "Oh! it's quite easy to understand. I don't need to ask you any +more questions. I don't want any more explanations. If you want to keep +this out of the police court, you will do exactly as I tell you."</p> + +<p>"Yes!" she exclaimed eagerly. "I will do anything."</p> + +<p>"Send your servant for a cab," Deane said, "and arrange this young +lady's dress so that I can take her home."</p> + +<p>"I will fetch her a bodice of my own," declared the woman, hurrying off.</p> + +<p>Winifred had risen to her feet, and was sitting in an easy-chair. She +was leaning forward, with her face half buried in her hands. Deane +turned towards her.</p> + +<p>"Winifred—"</p> + +<p>She avoided his gaze. "Don't!" she begged. "Please don't talk to me. I +can't bear it."</p> + +<p>"But I may say—" he began.</p> + +<p>"No!" she interrupted, almost fiercely. "Please say nothing. I mean it. +I cannot bear to talk! I cannot bear to be talked to!"</p> + +<p>A little throb of anger darkened his face. She had not even common +gratitude for her rescue! She had but one thought, one regret,—the loss +of that future of luxury to attain which she had bound herself to him. A +curious anger burned in his blood,—a pain which he could not analyze +shook his heart. Then there came the sound of voices on the stairs, +feminine voices raised in anger! The door was burst open. Ruby stood +there upon the threshold, looking in upon them, her lips curved in an +ugly smile of triumph, her eyes ablaze. Behind her stood the landlady, a +black bodice in her hand, her forehead wrinkled in a deprecating frown.</p> + +<p>"So you've found her, have you?" Ruby exclaimed, her face turned towards +Deane, her finger outstretched to where Winifred sat shrinking back in +her chair. "Thieves, both of you! Thieves! Thieves!"</p> + +<p>Deane pointed to Winifred's torn clothing. "And that?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It was restitution," the girl declared fiercely. "The deed was mine! +Your millions are mine! She stole it for you—her brother was a murderer +for you! How do you think the story will look in the newspapers, eh? +Inciting to murder and theft! Isn't that a crime? Swindlers, both of +you!" she cried passionately. "You'd have kept me a beggar, eh," she +cried to Winifred, "while you clad your poor body in silks and laces, +covered yourself with jewels and made him marry you? And I was to +starve!—to starve or worse! Well, we'll see! We'll see!"</p> + +<p>"Young lady," Deane said calmly, "you are being led away by your +imagination. You have taken a paper away from Miss Rowan which you seem +to think is going to turn out a sort of El Dorado. It isn't worth the +paper it's written on."</p> + +<p>"It's a lie!" the girl shrieked. "I've taken it to the lawyers. It is +genuine—they all say so."</p> + +<p>Deane almost lifted Winifred from her chair. "That remains to be seen," +he declared.</p> + +<p>"In any case, it was stolen!" she cried. "That young woman there has got +to say how it came into her possession, and what she meant by going +around with it sewn into her bodice! Oh, you needn't try to dupe me!" +she cried. "I want my money—God knows how I want it! And I mean to make +her suffer, too!" she added, pointing to Winifred. "She's a thief! She's +lived in luxury while I've starved;—she's worn the clothes of a +princess while I've gone in rags! But she shall pay! My God, she shall +pay!"</p> + +<p>Deane, with Winifred by his side, had reached the door. "I am afraid," +he said turning to the girl, who was still regarding them with +breathless anger, "that you have let your imagination run away with you +a good deal. A dose of the law courts will do you no harm. If you care +for a word of warning from me, you can have it: don't build your hopes +too much upon that paper!"</p> + +<p>"We shall see!" she cried fiercely. "You can't frighten me! If the paper +is of no value, why did she steal it, why did she carry it sewn in her +clothes? If you—"</p> + +<p>She hesitated for a moment. Her eyes rested upon Deane, her expression +softened. "If you want to make terms—" she began.</p> + +<p>He turned away. "Come, Winifred," he said.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>In the cab they scarcely spoke. She had the air of a person utterly +exhausted,—indifferent to anything that might happen.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," he asked, soon after they started, "what made you go to that +house?"</p> + +<p>"The letter from you," she answered. "I was a fool, of course, but I +went. It doesn't matter, does it?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose not," he answered.</p> + +<p>The despair in her face nerved him to further speech. "I am afraid," he +said, "that you are worrying about that deed—or rather the loss of it. +I am sorry that I came too late, but it couldn't be helped. You did all +that you could! I am sure of that."</p> + +<p>"Of course!" she interposed impatiently. "And I have failed! That is the +end of it!"</p> + +<p>He looked out of the window, looked with stern, unseeing eyes upon the +passing people. The sun had ceased to shine, his heart was heavy as +lead. He seemed suddenly to realize the reason of her dejection. She +believed in the deed. She believed that he was indeed a pauper. It was +for the wreck of her hopes that she was lamenting. The rest went for +nothing. He was a poor man—no longer of any interest to her! His manner +unconsciously stiffened as the thought came rushing home to him. He drew +away from her, and he remained silent until the cab stopped in front of +her hotel. She stepped out quickly, and almost ran across the pavement.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow," she said, holding out her hand as though to prevent his +following.</p> + +<p>He bowed and turned away. Her deshabille was without doubt an +embarrassment Already he was beginning to find excuses for her. +Nevertheless, he watched the slim, swaying figure, as the doors closed +upon her, with something of apprehension. Was it ominous that she should +pass away without a backward glance? Was she indeed nothing but an +adventuress, deprived of her prey?...</p> + +<p>He paid the cab and walked slowly back to his rooms. His solicitor had +already rung up. Two of his directors were waiting to see him, a +reporter buttonholed him upon the pavement. From all of which things +Deane knew that Ruby Sinclair had lost no time, that the first note of +battle had been sounded!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIXA" id="CHAPTER_XIXA"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>MISS SINCLAIR'S OFFER</h3> + + +<p>Miss Rowan had left two hours ago, and had taken all her luggage and +paid her bill. Apparently she had no idea of returning,—at any rate, +she had not reserved any rooms. The hall-porter of the little hotel +looked at Deane with some curiosity as he answered his rapid questions. +The manageress came rustling out of her office and beamed on Deane, who +had once stayed there for several weeks. She confirmed the information +which he had already received, and supplemented it with a few further +details.</p> + +<p>"Miss Rowan paid her bill?" Deane asked.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, sir," the manageress answered. "Miss Rowan was exceedingly +particular about paying her accounts the moment they were presented."</p> + +<p>"And she left no message?" Deane asked.</p> + +<p>"None at all, sir," was the answer.</p> + +<p>He noticed the gleam of curiosity in her eyes, and promptly altered his +tactics. "Thank you very much," he said, turning away. "I quite +understood that Miss Rowan was not leaving until this afternoon. My +mistake, I daresay. By the bye, have you any instructions with regard to +letters?"</p> + +<p>"None," the manageress replied. "If any come, we shall keep them until +we hear from her."</p> + +<p>Deane turned away and reëntered his brougham. "I shall find a note at my +rooms, I daresay," he remarked. "Good morning, Mrs. Merrygold."</p> + +<p>His words were prophetic. He called at his rooms on his way to the club +for lunch, and found a note there addressed to him in Winifred's +handwriting:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>Wednesday morning.</p> + +<p>You will understand, of course, that this is the end. The +jewels which you gave me I have returned to-day by registered +post. One ring I have kept. It is, I think, the least valuable +of any, but I did not wish to part with it. If you insist, +however, it is always at your disposal.</p> + +<p>I am going back where I belong—to the world which I should +never have quitted. Everything has been a great mistake. Please +understand that you are absolutely and entirely free in every +way. I only trust that I may live long enough to atone in some +measure for my folly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Winifred Rowan.</span></p></blockquote> + +<p>Deane read this letter over a dozen times. One thing alone seemed clear. +She had deserted him. She had not even waited for the final issue. She +had fled from the sinking ship with a haste almost indecent. She had +made no terms, suggested no compromise. Deane, when he thought the whole +matter over, was still puzzled. Such precipitancy was not logical. If +his hand was no longer strong enough to open the gates of the promised +land, it could at least have lifted her up from the miseries of her past +life. He found himself, after a study of her few lines, curiously +depressed. She had gone—willingly—apparently without regret except for +her wasted opportunities. He felt an emptiness in his life which he +failed to understand. There had been nothing of the sort when Lady Olive +had held out her hand and bidden him farewell. Was he getting +sentimental? He set his teeth. Absurd! It was an episode happily +concluded! Outside there was thunder in the air—a storm for him to +face!...</p> + +<p>His solicitor did not beat about the bush. "In the face of that +document, Mr. Deane," he said, "the Treasury do not propose to proceed +with the prosecution of Hefferom. Its existence, of course, throws +altogether a different light upon the whole situation, whatever may be +its exact legal worth. Hefferom was simply engaged upon a task of +compromise. He had something solid behind him. There is not a shadow of +evidence against him."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Deane, "let Hefferom go. I confess that when I sent to +Scotland Yard I never anticipated that this particular document would +ever come into evidence."</p> + +<p>"You knew of its existence?" the lawyer asked.</p> + +<p>"Sinclair himself showed it to me," Deane answered calmly. "So far as +Sinclair himself was concerned the affair was a swindle, for it was he +who recommended me to jump the claim—said he thought that there was +some stuff there, but he had no money to work it. I let him off a +hundred pounds he owed me, and took his advice. But that is ancient +history. The mine is my property all right—or rather it was."</p> + +<p>Mr. Hardaway listened with a grave face. "Deane," he said, "I hope and +believe that you may be speaking the truth, but the original deed is in +the hands of unscrupulous people. We had a notification this afternoon +that a suit is about to be commenced against your corporation."</p> + +<p>"The sooner the better," Deane answered. "We'll know where we are, at +any rate. I claim that by the statute laws of the country that claim was +forfeit. If it was not, then the inducing me to sink capital and work +the claim was a damnable conspiracy."</p> + +<p>"Your corporation fight with you, of course?" the lawyer asked.</p> + +<p>"Of course," Deane answered. "What else could they do? We fight to the +end!"</p> + +<p>That night, shares in the Incorporated Gold-Mines Association stood at +90. At closing time the following day they stood at 74. A few lines in +the paper had done it. An action had been started by Hefferom, and the +legatees of the estate of the late Richard Sinclair, claiming as their +property the Little Anna Gold-Mine. The thing had been talked about for +some time, but now that it had actually occurred, people seemed none the +less staggered. The city believed in Stirling Deane—it had believed in +him so implicitly that in its heart it had never placed any faith in +this cloud of rumors. Yet there it was now in black and white. It was no +longer possible to speak of compromise. The matter was to be fought out +in the open courts, and failure could spell nothing but ruin to one of +the richest corporations in London. Deane's photograph was in all the +papers—also the menu of a famous dinner which he gave to his directors. +He sent a cheque for five thousand pounds to a hospital, and was +reported to be going on the turf. The lawsuit he treated everywhere as a +joke. He was careful always to wear the usual bunch of violets in his +buttonhole, and to affect something of the dandy in his attire. His +personal demeanor kept his shares at least ten points higher than they +would otherwise have been.</p> + +<p>But Deane, nevertheless, was in hell! He was badgered by his directors, +worried by his lawyers, and underneath it all, and apart from his +financial responsibilities, he was suffering from a sense of personal +loss, a wound whose pain left him but little peace. He never stopped to +admit to himself exactly what his suffering was. He sat for hours lost +in thought, and his thoughts were always of that pale lady of his dreams +who had stolen so abruptly from his arms, the girl who had played for a +few weeks so strange a part in his life. He tried to find what had +become of her, but in vain; she seemed to have completely vanished. He +puzzled over her behavior until the lines in his face grew set and hard. +Was she indeed ingrate—ready to abandon her strange bargain at the +first whisper of disaster? Or had she some other reason? He had accepted +her terms because of the power which she held—what if, at the loss of +that power, she had taken it for granted that their bargain was +cancelled, and had hurried away to avoid the shame of dismissal from +him! It was just what she would do—perhaps just what she had done!</p> + +<p>Deane was careful, during these days of probation, to attend at his +office regularly, and to shrink from none of his customary duties. One +afternoon his clerk brought him in a card.</p> + +<p>"A young lady to see you, sir!" he announced.</p> + +<p>Deane's heart gave a jump, the blood rushed through his veins, he was +scarcely able to read the card which he had taken into his fingers with +well-affected carelessness. Then the pain came, the black disappointment +which seemed to turn his heart into a stone. It was not she! He found it +hard to take any interest in this caller, and yet he felt that her +coming was significant.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Miss Ruby Sinclair.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>"You can show the young lady in, Gray," Deane ordered.</p> + +<p>When she arrived, Deane scarcely knew her. She was expensively dressed +from head to foot. She carried herself with an assurance which was +almost overdone. The fashion of her dress and hat were certainly not +chosen with a view to being overlooked. She was very modern—she +reminded him exactly of a young lady in a musical comedy with whom he +had once had a slight acquaintance. He would scarcely have been +surprised had he found, when she lifted her veil, that her eyebrows were +blackened.</p> + +<p>"You didn't expect to see me, of course," she said, holding his hand for +a moment, and looking at him steadfastly. "May I sit down?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," he answered.</p> + +<p>She chose the easy-chair, and crossed her legs with a good deal of +rustle and a considerable display of black silk stocking.</p> + +<p>She looked at him curiously. "Are you still angry with me?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't usually bear malice," he answered, "but I can scarcely +forgive your method of dealing with Miss Rowan!"</p> + +<p>"Or its results?" she asked, with a little laugh. "Well, I came out on +the top, anyhow, and you must remember, Mr. Deane, that I was +desperate,—you don't know how desperate," she continued, after a +moment's pause. "I hadn't a shilling left in the world!—not a +shilling!—not a friend! And somewhere in London there was wealth that +belonged to me!"</p> + +<p>"That," Deane remarked dryly, "is a matter which is as yet undecided."</p> + +<p>"Well, I judge by facts," she answered with a little laugh. "Lawyers +don't usually throw money away, do they? They're willing to advance me +all I want on the security of the Little Anna Gold-Mine."</p> + +<p>Deane smiled upon her genially. "My mine," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"No!" she declared,—"the property of the legatees of Richard Sinclair!"</p> + +<p>Deane shook his head. "My dear young lady," he said, "you were more in +your element when you walked bareheaded upon the sands of Rakney, and +saved me from a wetting, than in your present pose."</p> + +<p>"And you," she declared, "were nicer to me, a great deal, for those few +days."</p> + +<p>"Naturally," he answered, smiling. "How can I be particularly amiable to +a young lady who is trying to ruin me?"</p> + +<p>She looked at him earnestly. In her fashionable attire she presented, +indeed, a very different appearance from the eager, brown-skinned girl, +with the shapely limbs and delightful carriage, whom he had first seen +at Rakney. Yet he fancied that she was trying to reawaken his earlier +impressions of her,—innocent of vanity as he was, he could not +misunderstand her appealing gaze!</p> + +<p>"I do not want to ruin you," she declared. "I do not want to do anything +of the sort. Isn't there enough for both of us? Why should we fight?"</p> + +<p>He sighed. "How can we compromise?" he asked. "The mine does not belong +to me any longer. I sold it years ago to the Incorporated Gold-Mines +Association."</p> + +<p>"You could not sell what didn't belong to you," she objected.</p> + +<p>"They paid me the money for it, at any rate," he answered.</p> + +<p>"If I win," she asked, "who will lose the money?"</p> + +<p>"The Incorporated Gold-Mines Association," he answered, "but they would +have a claim upon me. I suppose, eventually, that I should."</p> + +<p>She held out her hand—no longer brown and stained with seaweed, but +delicately gloved, perfumed, elegant. "Let us be friends," she said. "I +am sorry I was rough to your little ally! I couldn't help it. She was in +my way. I chose the only means. We needn't consider her,—you and I are +different sort of people. We know what we want. I am not only a money +grubber. I want the rest of life, the whole thing,—the music, the +poetry, the passion! Remember my wretched, starved existence! Do you +wonder that I am on fire to pass on to the other things. It isn't the +money—your money or any one else's! I want life! I want the wine and +the spices! I want the dregs! Can't you understand? You must!—you +must!"</p> + +<p>Her passionate eyes sought his, her body swayed towards him. Deane +looked downwards upon his blotter. In the outer office he could hear the +clicking of typewriters, the subdued murmur of voices. Through the +half-opened window came floating in the everlasting chorus,—the falling +footsteps upon the pavement, the jingling of hansom bells, the far-off +roar of the heavier traffic. All these things seemed to him curiously +unreal. He was conscious only of the intensity of the moment, the +pleading of her eyes, the warm breath upon his cheeks. He heard the +rustling of her skirts. He felt that she was rising from her chair. Then +he braced himself for his effort.</p> + +<p>"My dear young lady," he said,—"if you really want to compromise—for a +moderate amount—I will send for my lawyer. We cannot arrange this thing +by ourselves."</p> + +<p>She rose to her feet, but for a moment she was speechless. When he +looked at her face, he found it almost unrecognizable. She dropped her +veil quickly, but from behind it the flash of her eyes was in itself a +threat.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," he said lamely. "I hope you understand."</p> + +<p>She turned to the door, and passed out without a word.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXA" id="CHAPTER_XXA"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>THROUGH THE MILL</h3> + + +<p>Deane stood at last on the other side of those long, dragging months of +unspeakable weariness. Day after day, in the close atmosphere of the +Courts, week after week of what seemed to him unnecessary repetitions +and delays,—so the great machine of the law moved on its slow and +stately way, and the case of Sinclair <i>v.</i> The Incorporated Gold-Mines +Association crept on toward the end. One thing at least Deane had +gained. His examination and cross-examination—and he was in the witness +box altogether for nearly two days—failed to reveal a single weak joint +in the armor of his truthfulness. His story was consistent and honorable +throughout. He was able to prove the payment to Sinclair, to prove +Sinclair's suggestion that he should have a try at the mine. At the end +of the case, one thing remained certain, and that was that morally +speaking the mine was Deane's when he had sold it to the Corporation. +Yet behind it all there were those title-deeds, with which Sinclair had +never parted, and which now formed the backbone of this present suit. +The more sensational part of the case, too, concerning which there had +been endless rumors, collapsed immediately.</p> + +<p>"Is it not true that Sinclair paid you a visit at your offices a few +days before his murder?" counsel asked.</p> + +<p>"Certainly!" Deane answered.</p> + +<p>"Will you tell us what transpired at that interview?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it scarcely amounted to an interview," Deane answered composedly. +"The man was drunk, and I found him offensive. He brandished the +document at me on which the present case is founded, and I suspected him +of an attempt at blackmail. I had him thrown out."</p> + +<p>"Yet a few days afterwards you commissioned Rowan—the man who murdered +Sinclair—to obtain that document from him," counsel said, amidst some +sensation.</p> + +<p>"Scarcely that," Deane answered. "Rowan, who had been a friend of mine +in South Africa, and was a man of an altogether different stamp than +Sinclair, called upon me a few days later. I told him the +circumstances."</p> + +<p>"You incited him to procure that document from Sinclair," counsel +declared.</p> + +<p>"I cannot admit that," Deane answered. "I told him that I had declined +to be blackmailed by Sinclair, but that after all I would prefer to pay +a reasonable sum of money for the document in question. Rowan had been +on more friendly terms with Sinclair than any of us, and I thought that +he might induce him to listen to reason."</p> + +<p>"If the document was valueless, why should you bother about it?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid that you don't know much about the mining world," Deane +replied amiably. "Any prejudicial report, however malicious, however +false, affects the market, and one must always consider one's +stockholders."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," counsel said, "we come to this. You deputed Rowan to +see what he could do with Sinclair. Do you realize your responsibility +in this matter? You are aware of what happened?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," Deane answered. "I shall never cease to regret it. Sinclair +was mad drunk and the two men quarrelled. The blow which killed him was +struck in self-defence."</p> + +<p>"The law did not take that view."</p> + +<p>"I stood by Rowan when he died," Deane said, with a sudden note of +solemnity in his tone. "He told me the truth then, and the truth is what +I have told you."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, he stole the document," counsel continued. "It was +discovered afterwards in the possession of Miss Rowan."</p> + +<p>"So I have heard," Deane answered calmly. "It was a pity that she did +not hand it over to me."</p> + +<p>"You would have destroyed it, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Most certainly!" Deane answered. "The mine belonged to me. Sinclair had +declared before witnesses that there were no papers, that the claim had +not been worked for the requisite time; and, therefore, by the mining +laws of the country my purchase was good."</p> + +<p>The case lasted well over the Christmas recess. During the holidays, +Deane spent a good part of his time seeking for some trace of Winifred +Rowan. He went himself to her old employers, but they were able to tell +him nothing. They could only show him the testimonial which they had +written at her request, and which she had taken away with her a few days +after her departure from the hotel. There was no one who seemed able to +help him in the least. Very regretfully, he called in the services of a +private detective, who, however, was equally unsuccessful. The holidays +passed, the case was reopened, and Deane was once more immersed in the +struggle....</p> + +<p>It was over at last. The strain remained,—the great judge who had heard +it declined to pronounce judgment immediately on the conclusion of the +pleadings. It might be three days or it might be even a week before his +decision was known. Deane turned away from the court with a strong and +instinctive desire for solitude. The suspense long drawn out through the +weeks and through the months, had become unbearable. He felt himself no +longer able calmly to discuss the pros and the cons of the case with his +fellow directors and friends. He was sick to heart of it all. He escaped +from one or two passers-by, and a reporter or so who tried to buttonhole +him, and ignoring his brougham, around which several others were +waiting, he sprang into a hansom and drove to the garage where he kept +his touring car. A few brief orders, a pencilled note to his servant, +and Deane, leaving the garage by the other entrance, took the Tube to +its terminus, walked out into the country, and was caught up within an +hour by the car, in which his servant was sitting on the front seat by +the side of the chauffeur.</p> + +<p>The evening passed swiftly into night as they thundered up the great +north road into the darkness. Deane, wrapped in his thick coat and rugs, +leaned back in his seat, with both windows down, feeling an +inexpressible relief in the sharp sting of the night air, the flakes of +snow and little clouds of rain blown every now and then through the open +windows. He was free at last from the hateful environment of the last +few months. No longer was there anyone to point him out as the man who +had sold for a million pounds a mine which had never belonged to him. +Save for the two motionless figures in front, he was alone. There was no +one to ask him wearisome questions, no one to offer him sympathy or wish +him good-fortune. On they sped through the night, till the villages were +like dead haunts, without a light in the windows, and only an occasional +lamp-post to mark the place where men slumbered. They passed through a +town, which was like a city of the dead, and on again to the wilder +country, where the rabbits rushed, terrified, before the streaming +lights of the car, and the wind alone, of all Nature's voices, seemed +left to remind him that this was not a world of ghosts through which he +rushed.</p> + +<p>Presently he saw the man at the wheel swerve a little in his seat, and +he lifted the speaking-tube to his lips. "Can we get through to Rakney, +Murray," he asked him, "or shall we stop at King's Lynn?"</p> + +<p>"We can get through, sir," the man replied, "if we can rest for +half-an-hour somewhere."</p> + +<p>They knocked up an inn-keeper in King's Lynn, and the two men ate and +drank. Deane himself drank a long whiskey and soda, and lit a cigar. +Then they rushed onward into the darkness, already lightening a little +in the east. Dawn was breaking as they climbed their last hill and ran +down toward the marshlands. A red light loomed over the gray, sullen +sea. The marshes themselves seemed heavy and undistinguishable—patches +of land and dark creeks of salt-water running into one another. Out in +the bay the foam-topped breakers came rolling sullenly in. When at last +they turned through the gate, and went slowly up the rough road—marked +out with white stakes—which led up to the tower, the dawn had actually +come, the night was a thing of the past, although its shadow seemed to +hang low over the gray land. The sea had been lately over the rough +road, and progress was difficult. At last, though, they reached the +little bank of shingle on which the tower was built, and Deane, with a +little sigh of relief, stepped wearily down. While his servant unlocked +the front door and busied himself arranging a bed and lighting a fire, +Deane walked down to the edge of the sea, whose white-topped waves were +dragging back the shingle as they fell and broke, with a dull, grinding +noise. Never, it seemed to him, had the beauty of loneliness appealed to +him more strongly than at this hour of dawn. The birds were silent, the +wind had fallen, there was no sound whatever from the sleeping land. +Only the eternal breaking of the waves continued—a sound which was more +like the background for stillness, grim and mysterious, inevitable as +existence itself. Far away now seemed that crowded court, with its eager +faces, its rapt issues,—far away seemed the importance of wealth, the +great question whether he should remain amongst the millionaires—the +world buyers, or take his place amongst the poor men of the earth. What +did it matter, after all, this kingship of the cities, with their lack +of perspective, their crowded hours, their strange, artificial +atmosphere? The value of these things was, grotesque, for a +moment,—distorted. He had been wise to come here, he told himself, as a +breath of the morning wind stole, faint and fresh, across the salt sea. +Perhaps he would be wiser still if he defied fortune and stayed here +always.</p> + +<p>His servant summoned him, and he went reluctantly indoors. He ate some +biscuits and drank some milk. Then, as the real dawn broke over the sea, +a fiery red, and with many suggestions of troubled weather in its angry +glow, he opened the window and threw himself upon the little iron +bedstead with its lavender-scented sheets.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIA" id="CHAPTER_XXIA"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>ALL AS IT SHOULD BE</h3> + + +<p>There was one person in London who knew Deane's whereabouts, and from +him there came no word. To Deane himself there seemed something unreal +about the long hours which he spent in solitude, wandering along the sea +front, following the sands left by the receding tide—himself a lonely +figure on the great gray plain. A storm of rain once blew in from the +sea, but mostly the day was still and colorless. To Deane, after the +long hours in the crowded courts, his directors' meetings, his +self-imposed mask of ease and confidence, the relief of this absolute +solitude was immeasurable. It was just the season of the year when +nature and those who minister to her seem alike to sleep. It was too +early for any thought of spring; the storms of autumn lay behind. A +certain quietness seemed to hang over the land, as though, indeed, sea +and resisting sands were exhausted with the long struggle of the winter.</p> + +<p>Towards afternoon came some few moments of flickering sunlight. Deane +sat on a wooden bar on the top of one of the dykes, and above his head a +lark was singing, a little timidly, a little doubtful, even, of his +lonely music, but still lending a note of real life to the still, gray +world over which he hovered. Deane looked at the queer stone tower on +its bank of shingle, and blessed the chance which had led him to +purchase it. He looked inland to the little red-tiled village, to the +deserted quay, from which all the fishing-boats had been dragged high +and dry along the straight line of raised dyke which formed the footpath +between him and the village. As he looked, he became conscious that +someone had started out from the village along the dyke top. Far away at +the other end he could see a slowly approaching figure. His heart gave a +little beat. Was it a messenger at last, coming to bring him his fate? +He looked up again to where the lark was singing. It seemed, after all, +so small a thing! Nearer and nearer the figure came, near enough, at +last, for Deane to be able to distinguish something of its outline. Then +he rose to his feet with a quick indrawn breath—a little cry of +surprise to which there was no one to listen. For this was no messenger +from the village coming. It was a girl in a long gray cloak, and a hat +which she carried in her hand, as though the fresh salt air of the +marshes was something also to her. Deane saw the neatly arranged brown +hair blown into confusion about her face. Against the empty background +he recognized the poise of her head, the firm but delicate walk, the +slender, swaying figure. He knew who it was that came, and it seemed to +him that from that moment he knew, too, other things! His sense of +proportions was suddenly shifted,—enlarged, perhaps,—altered +certainly. He understood things which before had been mysteries to him. +He understood, as though in some moment of inspiration, that riches or +poverty, life, even, or death, are the incidents of life before its +greatest truths. Nothing that he could think of seemed able to hold his +thoughts. His heart was beating to music, the lark was singing to him a +song of her own—singing in weak, tremulous notes a song of life and +love and passion! He rose to his feet and went to meet her. She stopped +short and faltered for a moment. He hurried on.</p> + +<p>"Winifred!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>She held out her hands. Her eyebrows were upraised, her mouth was +quivering, her eyes were seeking his with a sort of plaintive +earnestness. "It is true, then!" she exclaimed. "You are really here!"</p> + +<p>"I am really here," he answered, "and it is really you! Nothing else +seems to matter very much,—and yet, I would like to know why you alone, +of all the world, should have discovered my hiding place."</p> + +<p>She laughed, and seemed quite unconscious of the fact that he was still +holding her hands. "I have been ill," she said. "I came down here to +rest. Last night I heard in the village that you had arrived, that you +were here alone. I knew then," she continued softly, "what had happened. +I felt that I must come, if it was only for a few moments."</p> + +<p>"It was very nice of you," he said.</p> + +<p>Then they stood side by side in a silence charged with a sort of +impotent passion. Why had she troubled to come, he wondered, now that +the bubble of his wealth was burst,—she, who had held him to her +cold-blooded compact, who had bound him to her by as sordid a bargain as +ever the mind of woman could have conceived.</p> + +<p>"I am glad to see you," he said, "and yet I don't know why. You did not +hesitate to leave me without word of you, as soon as you saw the +breakers ahead."</p> + +<p>She drew a little away, looking at him as though she had only half +understood. "When I lost the bond by which I held you," she said, "I +could scarcely expect you to continue to pay. I have thought it all over +since, until I think that I have drunk in all the shame which a woman +could feel. It was a hateful, miserable thing, but then my life has been +a hateful, miserable thing ever since I was a child, and I did long, +yes, I did long," she added fervently, "for something a little +different."</p> + +<p>"You disappeared, then," he said slowly, "because you imagined, +naturally enough, that so soon as you had lost your hold upon me, I +should be only too glad to free myself from our engagement?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," she answered, the color slowly staining her cheeks. "There +was no doubt whatever about that. Only since then I have understood how +great a mistake I made. If things had turned out differently," she +continued, "I should never have dared to come to you, to tell you this +and to ask for your forgiveness. But as it is," she added, "you cannot +misunderstand me any longer, can you?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose not," he admitted.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to come and tell you that I was sorry," she continued softly, +"and I wanted, too, to remind you that you are still young, and that the +loss of a fortune is not the most terrible thing in the world. I heard +yesterday that you were out upon Salthouse Neck, close to the +quicksands. You know it is never safe there, with these winter tides. +Life is not a thing to be trifled with. It may seem terrible to you just +now to have lost your great fortune, to be once more a poor man. These +things, after all, don't count for much against the gift of life. I know +it sounds like humbug to hear me talk like this, but they were gossiping +about you in the village. One man was saying that he shouldn't be at all +surprised to hear that you had disappeared, and to find—to find—" she +added, with a little shiver, "your body come up the creek with the next +tide. You wouldn't do anything like that, would you?"</p> + +<p>"Not a ghost of a chance of it," he answered cheerily. "Besides, I am +not quite a pauper yet."</p> + +<p>"You have lost the case, haven't you?" she asked quickly. "They seemed +to think so in the village, and I heard that Mr. Sarsby said his niece +had come into a million pounds."</p> + +<p>"Up till last night, at any rate," answered Deane, "nothing was decided. +The judge reserved his decision."</p> + +<p>"Then why," she asked wonderingly, "did you come down here?"</p> + +<p>He drew her a little closer to him, and looked into her eyes. "I think, +dear," he said, "that it was Providence which sent me."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>They walked along the sands, and for them the sun shone still, and the +song of the lark was only the faint echo of a still more wonderful +music. And then, as they turned back, they saw along the dyke a boy +riding a bicycle, a boy with a leather satchel around his waist, and the +rim of whose bicycle was red. He pressed her arm.</p> + +<p>"Courage, dear," he said. "This is the Mercury who brings us the +knowledge of our fate. In a few moments you will know whether you are to +become the wife of a millionaire or a working man."</p> + +<p>"If you would only believe," she murmured, "how little it matters!"</p> + +<p>"I do believe," he answered. "I came down here, for one reason, to +escape the shock of hearing the news before others. Now that it comes, I +simply do not mind. There are greater things in the world than the +Little Anna Gold-Mine!"</p> + +<p>He took the telegram from the boy, and opened it with firm fingers. He +read it out aloud without a tremor:</p> + +<blockquote><p>Counsel met in judge's private room by appointment to-day. Have +compromised with plaintiffs twenty thousand pounds.</p></blockquote> + +<p>Deane threw a coin to the boy, who remounted his bicycle and rode away. +Then, turning to Winifred, "You see," he said, "you have brought me +luck."</p> + +<p>"I only pray," she murmured, as they turned together toward the tower, +"that I may bring you happiness!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Deane met Mrs. Hefferom a few months afterwards, and was struck at once +by her altered expression. They came face to face at the corner of a +street, and both involuntarily stopped.</p> + +<p>"I hope," said Deane, politely, "that you are making good use of my +money."</p> + +<p>"And I hope," she answered, laughing, "that you are making more fortunes +from my mine."</p> + +<p>"I am doing fairly well, thank you," Deane admitted, "but you know that +I have a wife to keep now."</p> + +<p>"And I a husband," she answered. "I am trying to reform Stephen +Hefferom."</p> + +<p>"I hope that you are succeeding?"</p> + +<p>"On the whole, yes!" she declared, smiling. "We live at Streatham, and +he goes in to the city every day. He has bought a share in a business. +We are not millionaires yet, but one never can tell."</p> + +<p>"At any rate," he remarked pleasantly, "to judge by your appearance I +should say that you find it better than Rakney."</p> + +<p>"Don't mention the place, or any one in it," she said, with a shiver. +"Thank Heaven, I shall never have to go back to it! Stephen is really +doing very well, and half the money is still settled upon me. You have +no idea," she continued, "how domesticity has agreed with him. He has +scarcely a vice left."</p> + +<p>"It has made a lot of difference to me," returned Deane. "Can't you +recognize my subdued appearance?"</p> + +<p>"I never saw you looking so well," she answered frankly. "Now I must +hurry off. I am going to call for my husband and take him to lunch."</p> + +<p>"And I am going to fetch my wife for the same reason," Deane answered, +smiling. "The best of luck to you both!"</p> + +<p>They parted in the crowd, swept away by the flood, the endless tide of +passing humanity, and with a smile upon his lips Deane went to his +appointment.</p> + + +<h3>THE END</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Other_Works_LITTLE_BROWN_CO_Publishers" id="Other_Works_LITTLE_BROWN_CO_Publishers"></a>Other Works: LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., <span class="smcap">Publishers</span></h2> + + +<h3>PASSERS-BY</h3> + +<h3><i>By</i> ANTHONY PARTRIDGE</h3> + +<h3>Author of "The Kingdom of Earth," etc.</h3> + +<h3>"<i>Mystery upon mystery</i>"</h3> + +<p>Has the merit of engaging the reader's attention at once and holding it +to the end.—<i>New York Sun.</i></p> + +<p>It is exciting, is plausibly and cleverly written, and is not devoid of +a love motive.—<i>Chicago Examiner.</i></p> + +<p>It can be heartily recommended to those who enjoy a novel with a good +plot, entertaining characters, and one which is carefully +written.—<i>Chicago Tribune.</i></p> + +<p>One of the most fascinating mystery stories of recent years, a tale that +catches the attention at the beginning and tightens the grip of its hold +with the turn of its pages.—<i>Boston Globe.</i></p> + +<p>A mysterious story in which nearly all the personages are as much +puzzled as the reader and a detective encounters a unique surprise. +Originality is the most striking characteristic of the personages.—<i>New +York Times.</i></p> + +<p>The first chapter compels the absorbed interest of the reader and +lays the groundwork for a thrilling tale in which mystery +follows upon mystery through a series of dramatic situations and +surprises.—<i>Philadelphia Press.</i></p> + + +<h3>THE DISTRIBUTORS</h3> + +<h3><i>By</i> ANTHONY PARTRIDGE</h3> + +<h3><i>An absorbing novel of a great London mystery</i></h3> + +<p>A story of decided dramatic power.—<i>Chicago Journal.</i></p> + +<p>Written in striking brilliant style.—<i>New York World.</i></p> + +<p>A good mystery story which is worth reading.—<i>Detroit News.</i></p> + +<p>The story is developed with much cleverness.—<i>New York Times.</i></p> + +<p>A remarkable novel of fashionable English life.—<i>New York Bookseller.</i></p> + +<p>One of the season's most fascinating books. Almost every character is +unusual.—<i>Cleveland Town Topics.</i></p> + +<p>A peculiar but fascinating novel. The author wields a powerful pen and +this story will produce a profound impression.—<i>Buffalo Courier.</i></p> + +<p>The author offers a diversion quite unparalleled in fiction in the +doings of a polite and exclusive circle known as "The Ghosts."—<i>Book +Review Digest.</i></p> + + +<h3>THE KINGDOM OF EARTH</h3> + +<h3><i>By</i> ANTHONY PARTRIDGE</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by A. B. Wenzell.</h3> + +<h3><i>A dashing tale of love and adventure</i></h3> + +<p>The characters are strongly drawn and there is an absorbing love +theme.—<i>Pittsburg Post.</i></p> + +<p>Reaches thrilling climaxes and always keeps the reader's interest +whetted to a razor's edge.—<i>Chicago Inter-Ocean.</i></p> + +<p>A swinging, dashing story full of the excitement that keeps the reader +on the qui vive.—<i>Cincinnati Commercial Tribune.</i></p> + +<p>With a distinctly novel and ingenious plot, one involving enough of +intrigue and adventure to satisfy the most exacting.—<i>San Francisco +Argonaut.</i></p> + +<p>Full of adventure, this dashing romance of a European Crown Prince +and a talented American girl moves to its climax in baffling +mysteries.—<i>Baltimore American.</i></p> + +<p>More virile than the Zenda books and their imitators.... Mr. +Partridge's central idea is a novel one and he has worked it out +skillfully, leading the reader on from chapter to chapter with new +complication and mysteries and perils and adventures growing more and +more exciting.—<i>New York Times.</i></p> + + +<h3>THE MAN AND THE DRAGON</h3> + +<h3><i>By</i> ALEXANDER OTIS</h3> + +<h3>Author of "Hearts are Trumps," etc.</h3> + +<h3>Illustrations by J. V. McFall.</h3> + +<h3><i>A story of contemporary American life</i></h3> + +<p>A novelist who can hold the interest equally of both women and men is an +exception. Mr. Otis' first book, "Hearts are Trumps," brought him into +prominence as a writer of fiction, disclosing as it did a new American +author who possesses the narrative faculty and the dramatic instinct.</p> + +<p>In his new book, "The Man and the Dragon," Mr. Otis has written an even +stronger story of contemporary American life. Through the center of his +plot runs the glinting gold thread of a charming love story, strong, +dramatic, virile. The groundwork depicts the struggle of the young +editor of the <i>Carthage News</i> against a political boss on the one hand, +and a ring of traction magnates on the other, unfolding with telling +penetration and grasp one of the most vital problems facing this country +to-day.</p> + +<p>Those who have followed recent political events will find the defeat of +political manipulators in congressional districts reflected in "The Man +and the Dragon."</p> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Golden Web, by Anthony Partridge + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOLDEN WEB *** + +***** This file should be named 34945-h.htm or 34945-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/9/4/34945/ + +Produced by Chris Curnow, Michael, Mary Meehan and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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