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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/36699-8.txt b/36699-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0fa2d5a --- /dev/null +++ b/36699-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8048 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Barnaby, by R. Ramsay + +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: Barnaby + A Novel + +Author: R. Ramsay + +Release Date: July 11, 2011 [EBook #36699] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BARNABY *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + + + + + +BARNABY + +A NOVEL + + +BY + +R. RAMSAY + + + +AUTHOR OF "THE KEY OF THE DOOR," "THE STRAW," ETC. + + + + + +London: HUTCHINSON & CO. + +Paternoster Row + +1910 + + + + +BY THE SAME AUTHOR + + +In Cloth Gilt, 6s. + + +THE KEY OF THE DOOR + +"The story fascinates; it contains some of the best descriptions of +fox-hunting we have met with, and there is a crispness in the +delineation of all the characters which proves that the author is no +commonplace dabbler in fiction."--_Pall Mall Gazette_. + +"One of the most humorous and lively books that have appeared this +year. It contains some fine descriptions of hunting, and a vivid +picture of county society. The whole book is written with vivacity and +dash."--_Country Life_. + +"Told with a literary skill and a mature judgment which promise well +for future work from the author."--_Times_. + + +THE STRAW + +"Miss R. Ramsay has written but two novels, but if her future work +fulfils the promise of these, or even maintains their standard, her +public should be large and enthusiastic. She describes fox-hunting +from the true sportsman's point of view, but with a dashing vivacity +and humour. There is rare matter in even the best of contemporary +sporting novels, but there is more in Miss Ramsay's. There is no doubt +that Miss Ramsay possesses exceptional literary gifts."--_Gentlewoman_. + +"It is a jovial story, vigorously and vivaciously written. The book is +invigorating, fresh, and quite excellent in its descriptions of hunting +scenes, hunting country, and hunting weather."--_Manchester Guardian_. + +"This story, briskly written, has plenty of exhilarating pictures of +the hunting field in its lively course. It has plenty of fresh, breezy +humour in the delineation of people who hunt, is clever in +construction, and written with a literary skill that keeps the story +always going."--_Scotsman_. + + + + +TO THE MEMORY OF + +MY FATHER + + + + +BARNABY + + + +CHAPTER I + +The lamp flickered and jumped at the stamping in the bar. + +There was a frantic quality in that noise, laughter and exclamation +mixed with a wild shouting that made the crazy partition quiver. It +was a mad reaction from the common weight of despair. + +From the bed in the room behind you could watch the door.... + + +Paradise Town was a broken link in the chain of civilization; it might +have been written in letters of rusted blood on the map. Its pioneers +had forsaken it cursing, its trees had been burned for firewood, its +earth had been riddled in vain for gold. All that was left of it was +huddled near the shanty where men could buy drink and blur the spell of +awful loneliness that shut them away from life. It was worse at night. +With the darkness fell a heavier sense of the distance of human help, +and Paradise was an island in a black sea of haunted land. East and +west, wide and silent, the unknown emptiness lapped it in. + +Ill-luck and some bitter trick had stranded the M'Kune Tragedy Company +in this dreadful place. Night after night they played in a shingle hut +with their useless scenery stacked outside; night after night M'Kune +broke it to his scared company that they hadn't yet got their fares. +Fear and a kind of superstition worked in their minds until they were +seized with panic. In the daylight the men hung about the bar, +muttering; and the women herded by themselves, packed like hens in a +strange run, hysterically afraid. Prisoners in a desert, when night +had fallen they wandered away to the railroad track and watched. +Towards midnight would rise a red gleam on the far horizon, and they +would hear a distant rumbling, gathering to a roar, till the darkness +was split by a whizzing bar of light. By it went, the great, glaring +thing full of life, terrible in its rush, and leaving the night +immeasurably darker. Among the watchers the men would affect to +whistle. If they couldn't board her to-night they might manage it +to-morrow.... But the women caught each other's hands fast, and +shuddered. Latterly they had felt as if the train were a devil that +counted and kept them there. + +But their desperate plight inspired them. Never in their lives had +these poor mummers so hurled themselves into their parts; never again +would they murder and cheat and punish with such passionate realism. +Their fate hung upon it. Penniless and trapped, their solitary chance +of rescue lay in witching all Paradise to stare at them and furnish the +wherewithal. + +"Keep it up," urged M'Kune when a tired actress flagged. The hut was +full and airless, but a few men were sullenly hanging back in the +doorway, drawn thither, but arguing if it was worth it to step inside. +"Keep it up!" hissed M'Kune. + +And the heroine flung herself between the hero and the villain's knife, +slipped as she ran, and was hurt, but struggled up and cried out her +tottering defiance, bringing the house down before she dropped on her +face. + +That was the last night of crazed endeavour. The curtain came rocking +down, and the villain--M'Kune--cheated the gallows to run feverishly +through his receipts. All Paradise was vociferating behind that +flapping rag, but amidst the din the players had heard their manager's +yell of triumph. They had made up their fares at last. + +The Tragedy Company scattered and fled, each in search of his own +belongings; but they had little to gather, and the night wind blew them +together like drifting leaves. They durst not squander their means of +escaping, durst not loiter. The train, thundering by in its midnight +passage, must lift them out of this nightmare town. Waiting they +filled the bar, singing and shouting like lunatics, beside themselves +with joy. + +The door in the partition rattled, but stayed shut, and on the inner +side was silence. Nobody lifted the latch, though the bursts of noise +shook it from time to time. A selfish panic had left no room for any +other feeling. Probably they had all forgotten that one of the Tragedy +Company who could not escape out of Paradise; and it was all in vain +that the crazy bedstead was turned in its corner to face the door. + +She lay without moving. It seemed as if there were nothing of her but +the long black hair covering the pillow. In their hurry those who had +carried her in had not taken out all the pins, and a few glistened in +it still. Looking closer, one saw that her hands were clenched tight +against her breast, as if to keep her heart quiet. + +How fast the minutes went! It must be nearly train time. And surely +there was a vast thing, pulsing, pulsing, like an engine, far away in +the night? She could bear the hubbub of voices, but not the dread of +silence. Was it quite impossible to rise up and struggle to them, and +reach a human face? ... Suddenly she took a panting breath, short like +a sob, still gazing. + +The door had opened at last, and a woman looked in hastily, and, +flinging a word over her shoulder to the rest, stepped forward, +shutting out the streak of light and the voices in the bar. Then she +paused, irresolute. It was so dim in here, the atmosphere was so +anxious.... And nothing stirring ... just a glimmer of wild black hair. + +"You poor little thing!" she said. + +Her voice was warm with the cheap kindness of a nature tuned to play +with emotion, but incapable of feeling it from within. Her sympathy +smacked of the stage, but as far as it went was ready to proffer easy +help. + +"Like the Flight out of Egypt, isn't it?" she said. "It's a shame to +leave you behind. If M'Kune would hear reason, and any of us had a +cent to spare, I'd make a bundle of you, and carry you on to the train +myself. But it won't run to it. I asked him. We're nothing but +ranting beggars.... You'd better write to your friends." + +The girl on the bed laughed. + +So much of despair betrayed itself in that tragic note that the woman +was startled. She came a little nearer. + +"You don't mean it's as bad as that?" she said, lower. "All dead?--I +might have known it. They wouldn't have let a thing like you fling +about with us. But you'll be all right; you'll rub along somehow. We +all do.... And that man who was once a doctor--" + +But at her words a quick terror came to drive out the girl's submission +to despair. She threw out her hands, clutching at the other woman's +dress. + +"What?" said she, comprehending. "Then the brute's charity and +promising to M'Kune--Oh, Lord, what a horrible place it is----!" + +"Don't go!" The girl's voice was a choking cry. + +The woman swung round and listened. Were the rest starting already? +Her fine eyes darkened. She was wrapped up for the night journey in a +faded crimson cloak, her usual wear in tragedy, alike as empress and +villainess. Its dull glow warmed a beauty that was, like her soul, not +quite real. Perhaps she was repenting the hasty impulse that had +brought her in. But she could not pull herself loose from that piteous +hold. + +The younger one looked up beseechingly in her face. Her spirit failed +her; she hardly knew what an impracticable thing she was asking, how +uselessly she was clinging, in her horror of friendlessness. + +"I'm so frightened ... I'm so frightened..." she whispered, panting +because the effort hurt her; her lips were pale, and her forehead was +damp with pain. + +Suddenly the woman clapped her hands. + +"I've got it!" she said. Her face cleared, and she began to laugh like +one whose mind was rid of a burden. Twisting a ring off her finger, +she caught the little desperate hand still clutching at her skirt, and +thrust the ring on. + +"There!" she said. "Change with me." + +"I can't understand," said the girl faintly. The other woman burst +into vehement explanation. + +"It's Providence!" she said. "Never tell me--! I'm used to this life +with its ups and downs, and its glitter of luck ahead. It's in my +bones; the restlessness, and all that. I couldn't give it up. I +wouldn't. But you--! You didn't guess there was a lawyer tracking me, +did you?--that I'm a widow?--that I'm wanted to go and live in England +with his mother. Perhaps she'd have to pay somebody if I hadn't a +sense of duty.... _Me_ picking up stitches in her knitting, yawning in +a parlour with a parrot!--But you'd be safe there, you child--!" + +She paused for breath, triumphant. + +"I'll tell him to fetch you," she said. "The lawyer. Wait a minute--I +have his letter; warning me that there is no money in it--no +settlements, as he calls it. I'd be depending on the old woman's +chanty, like any stray cat." + +She went down immediately on her knees, and plunged into a kit-bag that +she had slung on her arm, turning out its miscellaneous load. There +was a shiver of glass as she fumbled, spilling things right and left; +and the stale air was scented with heliotrope. + +"That's all you want," she said, throwing a heap of papers on the bed. +"Here's his photograph. You can have it. I can't tell you much about +him, but you'll find the clues in there. He was good-looking, too, +poor fellow; a great gawk of a good-for-nothing working with his hands. +John Barnabas Hill--the boys called him Lord John among themselves, and +persuaded me he was incognito. But when I asked him after the wedding +if I was now my lady, he just laughed and laughed; and I went right off +in a passion and never saw him again. It wasn't his fault. I was just +too eager; that's all there was to it. And I'll tell the lawyer I've +left you ill in this wilderness. He'll rush to your side, and take it +for granted that you are me. Don't look so scared. What's the matter?" + +"I can't do it," the girl panted, staring with a dizzy wonder at the +casual Samaritan on her knees. Surely the lamp was sinking, the +darkness seemed dangerously near, the kneeling figure brilliant in a +blur. She tried to keep a picture of that kind human face wherewith to +fill the darkness, while instinctively repudiating her mad suggestion. + +"Rubbish!" said the woman. "It's the simplest thing. You do +nothing.--And you're an actress." + +"But I cannot," the girl said over and over again, holding fast. + +"You'll hurt nobody," urged the woman, attaining to some imperfect +apprehension of an attitude of mind that would not, even in extremity, +buy help with falsehood. "If I'm willing to have you stand in my +shoes, who else has a right to grumble? It's perfectly fair all round. +Look! I'm stuffing these papers under your pillow. I'll tell them all +outside that an English lawyer is coming for you, and that'll make +things easy. Don't hinder me leaving you with a clear conscience. +I've been your friend, haven't I? Hush, hush! I tell you you must.... +I'll not let you die in this den. I'll not be haunted----!" + +There was a tramping in the bar without. They were going. She tumbled +her belongings into the bag, and clapped it shut. The rest of them +were calling her. + +"Luck!" she said, "and good-bye." + +Her eyes dimmed unexpectedly, and she bent in a shamefaced hurry, +printing a kiss on the girl's cheek ... and fled. + +The door closed. In imagination one might see the midnight train +thundering towards the watchers--hear the grinding of the brakes. To +the bustle had succeeded a dreadful stillness. They had all gone like +shadows, and the listener was deserted. + +"I can't ... I can't ... I can't!" she reiterated in a sobbing whisper, +casting the strange chance from her with a last effort of +consciousness. The lamp was dying, and the world seemed to be turning +round. In that unfriended darkness the ring on her finger was +glittering like a charm. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +The day's hunting was over. + +Of the hundreds who had jostled each other in the first run, a +disreputable few survived, pulling up after that last gallop. They +grinned contentedly, drawing out their watches. Thirty-five minutes +from the wood; a straight fox and elbow-room. It had been worth +stopping out for, though now the dusk was thickening fast, and the +huntsman was calling off his hounds. + +"Where's Rackham?" asked one man, peering into the hollow. + +"Gone home. I saw his back as we came through Pickwell." + +"That wasn't Rackham. That was Bond, hurrying home to tea." + +"He's probably come to grief. His horse had had about enough when I +lost him." + +Another man popped his head over the hedge that had worsted him. His +hat was stove in, and his tired animal was blowing on the farther side. + +"_He's_ all right," he said. "The devil looks after his own. I turned +the most horrible somersault back yonder, through my horse catching his +leg in a binder; and before I could pick myself up, over shoots +Rackham, practically on the top of us. If he'd even given me time to +roll into the ditch!--Down he went to the water.... I wish I could +think he was swimming in it." + +"He's not far, anyhow. Hark to him. I'd know that laugh of his a mile +off. There he goes--'Haw, haw, haw!'--all by himself, in the valley." + +They turned their heads to listen, with a broadening and sympathetic +grin, as the dim outline of a horseman took shape in the +semi-obscurity, travelling upwards. It wasn't at all unlike Rackham to +turn up like that, though there hadn't been a sign of him till they +heard his laughter. The wonder would have been if he had let himself +be beaten altogether. What obstinacy had kept him going was explained +by the spur marks on his horse's sides as he brushed through a gap and +took stock of the diminished party, the handful that had, by a minute +or two, outstripped him. + +"Only the tough 'uns in it," he said. "It wasn't bad. Has the fox +dipped into the sunset and left you staring? Where are we? We must +feel our way home, or let the horses smell it out." + +"He's run into a drain. The usual end. What was the joke?" asked the +nearest man. Rackham pulled out his yellow silk handkerchief, and +twisted it round his throat. He was hot, and the air was clammy. With +that, and his wild eyes, and his sandy moustache, he looked like a +handsome bandit. + +"It's turning cold," he said. "What? Didn't you hear the plaintive +toot of a motor lying in wait for the man who sells pills? I'm morally +certain the millionaire is feebly chasing his hunter round and round +that big field with the mole-hills in it, miles and miles behind. I +suppose the chauffeur had his orders; but it would be a charity to hint +that following hounds is the worst way to pick up his master." + +"Didn't somebody catch his horse?" + +"Oh, I did, and chucked him the reins; but I didn't see him get on to +him. I'll bet the idiot let him go." + +"Do him good. He'll probably sit on a gate and pass the time inventing +another pill." + +"Awful if he's benighted, and all the ghosts of all who swallowed the +other pills pop up screeching----!" + +"Poor devil; he will have a time of it, with the mole-hills and the +thistles, and all those ghosts." + +The picture called up was upsetting to the general gravity, and they +dispersed, chuckling in the increasing twilight. A division made for +the turnpike, with here and there an individual branching courageously +into a bridle road; and the larger half halted under a signpost that +stretched illegible arms east and west in the lane. It was pleasant to +linger a minute or two, lighting up, guessing at their direction. But +Rackham kept on. + +"That's not your way, Rackham," one man called after him. + +The match flickered at his cigar, and went out as he threw it in the +road. His horse was walking on with his head down, guided by the +rider's knees. + +"Right," he shouted back. "It isn't. Is that you, Parsley? I nearly +jumped on you, didn't I?" + +"You did," said one of the dawdling group. "He has been complaining." + +"Well, if a fellow will sit down unexpectedly before you, like a hen +under a motor, how can you dodge him? Teach that lazy brute of yours +to lift up his hind legs, Parsley. Do you never hit him?" + +"I say," called the first man. "Come back. Where are you going?" But +Rackham pursued his wrong road untroubled. + +"He can make Melton that way, if he likes," said one of those who were +looking after him. "I daresay he means to call in on Lady Henrietta. +He told me he had a message from her, asking him to come over, but he +wasn't going to miss a day's hunting to see what she was up to." + +"I thought they were at daggers drawn." + +"In a manner of speaking," said the first, dropping his voice a little; +"but outwardly they are civil. Of course, she hates him coming in for +poor Barnaby's property, and I know he was at the bottom of that row +that made Barnaby rush abroad." + +"Ah, I remember, Rackham flirted furiously with Julia----" + +They edged instinctively nearer to each other, snatching at an +enlivening bit of gossip as they jogged on together with the bats +swooping overhead. + +"No mistake about that. And she let Barnaby see plainly that she was +ready to drop her bone for--his cousin. Of course, Rackham is a bigger +match. She's one of these women who can't perceive that titles are +getting vulgar." + +"Rum chap, Rackham. I can't quite make him out. What did he do it +for?" + +"He owed Barnaby one, perhaps. I don't think he was fond of Julia. +Anyhow, he didn't rise to her expectations; and so she relapsed, and +repented, and trails about now like a mourning bride. Poor old +Barnaby; he'll be missed.... And we'll never hear what wild things he +did out there." + +"Desperate sort of cure, to disappear in the backwoods, and never call +on his bankers. Just like him though.--But he shouldn't have got +himself killed in a scuffle in some outlandish quarter, and spoilt the +yarn." + +The man next him grunted. + +"Who started the rumour that it wasn't an accident," he inquired; "but +that life without Julia wasn't worth tuppence to him, and so--and +so----?" + +"Shut up, Parsley. Don't you circulate it," put in his neighbour +hastily. "Heaven send Lady Henrietta hasn't got hold of that." + +"By George, if the tale came to her ears----!" + +The last man mended his pace. He had hung back a little. + +"Rackham's bearing to the right," he struck in. "You can hear the +horse trotting on the hill. He must be turning in to see Lady +Henrietta. I wonder what on earth she wants him for. It was a rather +portentous message." + +They had reached a rougher bit of road and their voices grew +indistinct, drowned in a tired clatter of horses' hoofs, and died away +in the distance. + + +Rackham himself could not guess the reason for Lady Henrietta's +summons. Latterly there had been war between him and his aunt. +Something must have happened to mitigate the rigour of her ban, but he +rather fancied the circumstances must be uncommon that could accomplish +that. He was curious, and not the less so when, having left his horse +to a bucket of gruel, he walked stiffly across from the stables, and +letting himself in at the hall door, found himself face to face with +another visitor, who had just arrived and was slipping off her furs. + +"Julia!" he said, taken aback at her presence in this house. She +acknowledged his amazement with a trickling laugh. Her voice had a +note of melancholy importance. + +"Is it so unnatural," she said reproachfully, "that you should find me +here?" + +The man bit his lip, looking at her. To him there was humour in her +romantic pose. + +They had once been so well acquainted--though lately she had affected +short-sightedness when she saw him--that he imagined he understood her. +He rather admired an invincible vanity that had ignored disappointment +and defied scoffing tongues by making this bid for public sympathy. It +was a brilliant move, but he had never thought it would impose on Lady +Henrietta, that worldly woman with a hot corner in her heart for +anybody who could squeeze in, but an implacable spirit. She had held +out stubbornly up to now. + +"Well--I don't know," he said, hesitating, swallowing his amusement. + +Julia lifted her tragic eyes to his. Perhaps she was not sorry he +should witness her recognition in this house. The trailing black +garments that she was wearing for Barnaby lent a majestic sweep to her +full outlines, and there was a kind of bloom on her cheeks. She +reminded one of a big purple pansy. + +The butler, an old family servant, one of those that know too much, had +closed the great door, shutting out the wind and the stormy sky, +already night-ridden; and was now waiting discreetly in the background. +Rackham nodding to him, remarked a curious twinkle on his face, but +when he looked again it was wooden. + +"I knew she would send for me at last," crowed Julia. "People called +her selfish and cruel, but I told everybody I understood. I told them +to give her time. It must be so difficult for her to realise that +someone else was closer to poor Barnaby than even she. How could she +help feeling, at first, a little jealousy of my grief?" + +"I was sent for, too," said Rackham bluntly. "She said she had +something to show me." + +"Poor dear!" said Julia. "How touching that she should think of it. +You were his cousin, and she wants you to witness her do me justice." + +The man smiled to himself at her manner of glancing backwards at their +fellowship in disgrace. Was it possible that his aunt had really made +up her mind to forget and forgive, and fall upon Julia's neck? He felt +a twinge of something like shame. + +"We mustn't keep her waiting," said Julia. "Is she in the library, +Macdonald? That is where she used to sit...." + +Already she was assuming her ancient intimacy with the ways of the +house, and the servant made way for her as she passed him, traversing +the hall with a mournful swagger. + + +Lady Henrietta was knitting hard. + +She sat in a deep sofa by the fire, turned so that it faced the +hangings that screened off the outer hall. The library was so big that +it seemed to reach at either end into darkness, and the lamps made +little islands of brilliance here and there in the prevailing gloom. +Behind, with the books, there was another fireplace, a red and +glimmering hearth where two or three dogs lay, warm and sleepy, +dreaming of winter tramps and a man calling them to heel. One, a +terrier with a bitten ear, had started half-awake on a run down the +room, but she could not settle on the other rug, and came back +restlessly to her post on the shabbier tiger-skin. + +Barnaby's mother had a thin, hard, eager face, with a flick of colour +high on her cheek-bones. Not an unkind woman, but one possessed by +some passion that had tempered a frivolous, careless nature to a mood +of iron. Her rings glittered as she knitted, and the wires clicked +faster and faster, as if it were impossible that her fingers could be +for a minute still. She was knitting a man's grey-green shooting +stocking. + +Occasionally her eyes, with a strange spark in them, lit on a girl +sitting opposite, gazing into the fire. The girl was young and quiet; +her head shone dark in the ring of light; her cheek was pale, but her +short upper lip showed courage. Lady Henrietta watched her with a +fierce joy that was not yet liking. + +"You're not at all what I expected," she said abruptly. "I was afraid +of what I would see, and I didn't dare to look at you when you arrived +last night;--but twenty times I turned the handle of your bedroom door. +At last, I poked my head in when you were asleep, just to know the +worst.--I nearly dropped the candle when I saw your little head on the +pillow." + +"What did you expect?" the girl said faintly. + +"A great, coarse, fine woman, snoring," said Lady Henrietta. + +All at once she bent forward, putting her knitting into the girl's +hands. There was significance in the gesture. + +"Pick up that stitch for me," she said. "He never liked ladders in his +stockings." + +There was no shake in the hard jauntiness of her voice, but the girl, +searching with bent head for the dropped stitch, felt her fingers +tremble as they touched the rough worsted--felt something pluck at her +heart. Barnaby was dead, and she had never known him; but he was the +one real person walking through a dream in which she had lost herself. + +She was not strong yet. She still had a trick of putting out her hand +to some steady object when she stood up alone. And at first she had +not understood--too ill to question, not wondering. It was as if she +had died one night and awakened to a consciousness of protection, a +mystery of care and kindness, of strangers who took charge of her, +treating her like a precious doll. When she at last knew the reason, +she had felt like one who, falling from a precipice, found herself +clinging, the dizzy horror stopped by a branch;--she could not let it +go. + +So they had found her, and brought her over the sea, and put her to bed +in a great, comfortable room, in a house that was haunted. It was +Barnaby's house, and it was for Barnaby's sake that people were kind to +her. Somehow they were all shadows to her beside the thought of him. +His name had been invoked to shelter her; it had been enough to lift +her out of despair. She had begun to feel safe in a confused assurance +that she belonged to him. + +She remembered last night. She remembered the door sliding softly, and +a rustle in the room, and how she had lain quite still, shutting her +eyes, holding her breath, startled out of sleep. Someone was smoothing +the bedclothes under her chin. She longed to cover her face, but could +not. It was not a ghost, for mortal fingers had touched her cheek. +Soon the rustle had withdrawn from her bedside, and she had heard a +little sound that might have been a sigh. Afterwards the door had +closed, and the room was empty. + +Seized by an unaccountable impulse, she had put her foot to the floor, +and crossed the wide carpet to the fireplace, where the visitor had +gone from her side. The fire had fallen in, flaring high in a +quivering blaze, and by its light she had seen that over the +chimney-piece hung the picture of a man. Instinct had told her who it +was, and she stared at him, fascinated. + +The other woman had left her the wrong photograph in her hurry. This +was no weak boy with a foolish mouth, bundled over-seas by his people. +This was a man with a steady face that betrayed nothing of himself, and +eyes that held her startled gaze. Blue eyes, audacious and +understanding. Her heart beat strangely. For this must be Barnaby the +reckless, who had married a wife and got himself killed ... and she, +poor fool, was calling herself his widow. + +She clung to the chimney-piece, shivering with excitement, a quaint, +slight figure in her white night-dress. + +"I'll hurt nobody.... I'll hurt nobody!" she was explaining to him in +an imploring whisper; and it seemed to her that the man in the picture +smiled. + +"--There, give it back to me," said Lady Henrietta jealously, and her +voice scattered mists of imagination. "You don't think I'm crazy, do +you? You know why it is I can't stop knitting his stockings.--We'll +not talk about him, Susan. You and I have each our own memories, and +we can't share them.--I don't want yours. But we'll fight for him +together; since he belongs to us." + +Her manner took on a sudden fierceness. + +"I've not told anybody about you yet," she said. "I've been hugging +the secret for purposes of my own. I am a wicked woman, Susan. Upon +my honour, if you hadn't existed, I'd have been obliged to invent you. +If you hadn't come to me, I'd have searched the world for an imitation, +from end to end. How he would laugh at me!--But we'll not talk about +him--we couldn't bear it. Only we'll fight for him, as I said. We'll +not let his enemies triumph and pretend that they broke his heart." + +Her voice was quicker, charged with a passionate haste that hurried the +words out before she could close her lips. + +"You little pale thing," she said. "I am not a kissing woman ... but +... oh, you don't know what you are to me. Wait. I'll make you +understand. There's a creature here who behaved shamefully to my boy +... to _him_. And now he is dead she goes about boasting, claiming him +as her victim, hinting to all who will listen that he killed himself +for love of her. It's not true.... You'll teach them it is not true!" + +She stopped, controlling herself. In the hall outside there was the +slight bustle of an arrival, and voices, muffled by distance, came +faintly through. As suddenly as she had spoken, she checked her +outburst of confidence, and picked up her knitting with a terrible +little smile. + +"I know who it is that's coming," she said grimly. "A woman, Susan--a +woman who dresses in black, and prates of a misunderstanding." + +They came in together, the man blinking a little after his ride in the +twilight, approaching with a stiff gait and clinking spurs; the woman +swimming triumphantly up the room. + +"Dear Lady Henrietta!" she murmured, a ready quiver in her emotional +Irish voice. + +"How do you do, Julia?" said Lady Henrietta. She had recovered an +extraordinary calm. "Did you and Rackham meet on the doorstep? I am +pleased to see you both." + +Her ominous quietness struck the man, more observant. His instinct had +not disappointed him, that was clear; he marked her attitude with an +inward chuckle. Something tremendous was toward. + +"You are looking well, Aunt Henrietta," he said politely. "Do you mind +my smoking? We had a tiring day, and I missed my only sandwich." + +"Macdonald will look after you," she said. "Make him get you anything +you want." + +"Thanks," said Rackham. "I'll have something before I go. I meant to +ask him for a whisky and soda, but he shot us in here.--I thought the +old chap seemed a bit excited." + +"Yes," said Lady Henrietta. "They were all so devoted to Barnaby. +Naturally they share my feelings--" She paused significantly, and he +could see that she was watching Julia. "My son has given me a +legacy.... He has left me his wife." + +"How sweet of you to put it like that!" said Julia. + +She had established herself on the sofa without an instant's delay, +taking figurative possession, too self-absorbed to appreciate any +by-play. Her head was full of the tardy capitulation of her +fellow-mourner, and she, in her own eyes, was the principal figure +here. But Rackham, looking on, all but shouted. + +"What?" he said. "Poor old Barnaby! Married? Good Lord! how did it +come about?" + +Julia turned round and stared at him. + +"Lord Rackham!" she said. "Are you mad?" + +Lady Henrietta made a motion with her hand towards the girl sitting in +the background. She could not trust herself to speak to the woman +whose outrageous complacency had survived her blow. + +"My dear," she said, "this is your husband's cousin. He gets +everything when I die--things are so wickedly entailed in this +family--except a pittance I mean to scrape up for you. You know I +don't chatter, Rackham. You can understand I didn't care to set the +neighbourhood talking until I had Susan here." + +There was no mistaking the triumphant note in her proclamation. + +The girl coloured faintly. They were all looking at her now; the +strange woman with a startled face, the man curiously. Some likeness +in him to the picture that hung upstairs troubled her. So Barnaby +might have looked, his dare-devil glance falling on her with a +quizzical compassion. + +Rackham's wits were not slow. He crossed over to her side, and took up +his station on the hearthrug, so close to her that his splashed scarlet +coat almost brushed her black sleeve. Barnaby had been dressed like +him in the picture, gallant in hunting clothes. Would Barnaby have +stood by her? For she understood the significance of his action. This +man wanted to be her friend. She trembled a little, wondering why. + +Lady Henrietta took no more notice of him than if he had been a vexing +shadow put in his place. His strategic movement was lost on her. +Barnaby's mother, in her thirst to punish, her eagerness in striking +for the sake of her son, had not time to consider that the sword in her +hand was his wife. Her eyes were shining with the fire that had burnt +up her tears, and they were fixed on the enchantress who had wrecked +Barnaby's life, and was trading on his old infatuation, making a bid +for public sympathy by flaunting her forfeited hold on him. + +"I can't understand," said Julia, with a gasp. "Barnaby was not +married...." + +But she was shaken. Her blank amazement was turning visibly to dismay. +This stroke was so sharp, so inconceivable, that she lost her head, +refusing to believe in the humbling revelation. + +"It's a plot!" she cried all at once. "A plot against me. What have I +done to be treated like this? Why should I be insulted?--Everybody +knows that Barnaby and I----" + +"Don't be an idiot, Julia," said Rackham softly, but it was not his +interruption that stopped her passionate surrender to the Irish-woman's +instinct to have it out with the world. + +Perhaps the actress was uppermost in Susan, or perhaps an odd impulse +of loyalty to the dead man whose ring she wore carried her out of +herself. Her heart was hot against the woman who had played fast and +loose with him, and it taught her how one who belonged to Barnaby would +have faced this moment. His wife would not be a coward, would not sit, +a piteous listener, in the background; she had his memory to uphold. +And so she found herself standing up, confronting the stranger in a +proud silence that was more eloquent than reproach. Slowly, without a +word, she moved onwards to leave the room. + +"Gad!" said Rackham, under his breath. He liked that. + +Something like awe had smitten Julia. She remained a moment +transfixed, staring after her, all exclamation hushed on her reckless +lips. Then, all at once, she followed. + +"Tell me who you are," she panted hysterically. "It's all nonsense, +isn't it?--It's a sham?" + +Lady Henrietta was watching the scene from her sofa, and so was +Rackham, standing with his back to the fire. They were both far off. +It was a swift and dramatic minute. + +"His mother hates me," said Julia, half to herself; her hold tightened +on the girl's arm. "She's capable of anything. She--What colour were +his eyes?" + +The question was flung at her without warning. But a man's face stood +out distinct in the girl's imagination, haunting her with a clearness +none of these other faces had; smiling whimsically down from his +picture all this while she was letting people proclaim her his.... +Somehow she was defending him, covering his hurt. + +Without thinking, without a pause-- + +"Blue," she said. + +The other woman's hand dropped. She let her go. + +Susan let the velvet hangings fall heavily behind her as she came +through. A kind of wonder at herself possessed her, and her knees +trembled. Mechanically she traversed the hall, and began to climb the +wide staircase, leaning a little as she went, on the solid oak +balustrade. + +On the first landing a window faced the stair, and right and left ran +corridors, interminable, and equally mysterious to the stranger, who +was, in a manner, lost in this unknown house. She sank down on the +window-seat, set deep in the thickness of the wall. + +Outside, the sky was dark with a strange red, as of furnaces under the +horizon, glimmering in the west. She could just distinguish the +jutting corner of the more antique part of the house, built as it was +in different centuries, bit by bit. That side was strangely ornamented +with mediæval figures--the images of ancient warriors, all battered and +weather-stained. And the land they had won was quiet, lying half +asleep; only the trees still restless as night came on. + +She turned her face. In front of her gleamed the shallow stair, +running straight into the hall below, and all the way down hung +pictures, men and women who had lived in this house, and trod the +stairs, hurrying, lagging, or perhaps clinging, as she had in her +weakness clung to the balustrade. Some were ill-painted, some stared +wickedly; but all of them were watching. There was history in their +eyes. + +The girl felt a queer fellowship with the still procession; she, whose +only title among them was make-believe. Perhaps, in forgotten times, +her own people had fought and loved and ridden side by side with these, +and their descendant had come back to a friend's house. How good it +would be to let the world go on, to walk in a dream always, and not +struggle any more. + +She thought, with a remote disdain, of the scene downstairs. Her heart +was still beating quickly; but that gripping sense of the theatre had +left her. And she knew she had conquered. Barnaby's memory was safe +from the woman his mother hated. One could imagine her claim +collapsing, one could hear her voluble excuse, pleading bewilderment, +accepting the situation--with perhaps a plaintive expression of her +relief in knowing she was, after all, not as guilty as gossip said--had +Lady Henrietta heard the dreadful rumours? And Barnaby's mother would +smile at the thrust with victory in her soul, while the man, his +cousin, would look on, smothering his chuckle, with his head on one +side like a magpie, and a splash of mud that had dried on his cheek. + +It was his step she heard first as they came out into the hall. He and +Julia were leaving together, she talking fast. Her voice, charged with +subdued excitement, rose and fell on a singing note. What she was +saying did not reach up the stairs; only its contralto music. The +sound of it awakened Susan in her mood of overwrought exaltation. +Reality came back to her with a shock. She remembered another voice as +warm, as emotional, with the same theatrical tune of tears; and she +remembered the dangerous charity that had mocked her opposition. +Stripped of its fantastic mist of adventure, she looked at her own +story, and was ashamed. Her very scorn of the woman against whom she +had been pitted turned on herself and scorched her, ranking her as low. +She and Julia--no, she could not bear to be judged with Julia. The +romantic sophistry that had comforted her was gone, and nothing could +stay her desperate longing to be honest. + +They passed underneath. Rackham was helping Julia into her furs, was +hunting for her muff, with his face to the stair. The girl above held +her breath. His nearness affected her with a kind of panic. + +She had an intuition that he was the kind of man who would--guess. She +thought of his quick movement to her side, his presumptuous readiness +to stand by her, unspoken but unmistakable, with an unexplained alarm. +Would they never go? Why did he loiter, looking upwards with that +inexplicable smile? + +As the great door shut, at last, on a silence, she sprang up and went +downstairs. It was a pity she was not stronger. One should not go to +be judged with a tottering step. And she would want all her courage. +Knowing the spirit in which Barnaby's mother had dealt with Julia, she +did not look for mercy. + +But Lady Henrietta was not sitting upright and watchful, with that look +of ruthlessness stamped on her thin, hard, pretty face. She had thrown +herself across the sofa, her fast-knitting fingers idle, the +half-finished stocking that would never be worn fallen from her hand to +the floor. She lay like a broken reed; deprived of the motive that had +sustained her--and she was crying. + +That sight stirred all the heart in Susan. She ran to her blindly, +only conscious of a great compassion that shamed her selfish terror of +the weight of a lie. She could not tell her ... now. + +And Barnaby's mother looked up at her approach. Something of the old +defiant jauntiness came back to her for a minute. She tried to laugh. + +"Come here and kiss me," she called. There was a fierce tenderness in +her cry--"you darling--!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +Susan had flung from her with both hands the imprudent longing to cry +out her story. + +Somehow she felt that if she spoke now she would be a traitor. It was +too late to look back; for good or ill she had changed places with the +other woman who would not come. To fail now would not be to clear her +honour, it would be to desert her post. + +When Lady Henrietta, having triumphed, had given way at last, and had +clung to Susan, the girl, gathered in that fierce clasp, had known that +Barnaby's mother took passionate comfort in her only because the +stranger was something that had belonged to him. To deny her that +comfort would be to rob one who had nothing left. Could she, by a +wistful life of devotion, justify herself, not in the sight of man, not +to hard judges--but perhaps to this Barnaby who was dead, and who would +surely understand? Keeping silent, she promised him that she would. + +Day after day passed over her head, building an unsteady wall between +her and that pitiless outside world in which she had been like a driven +leaf, without hope or foothold. She became accustomed to the lazy +peace of the house, to the watchful offices of the old servants, who +seemed, like Lady Henrietta herself, curiously proud of her. + +Slowly she grew stronger; her thin cheek rounded, still pale, but +touched with a faint promise of colour. + +One afternoon she was taking her solitary walk in the park, and had +wandered farther than she had been. The dogs had left her, scurrying +after rabbits, and she leaned on a stile that offered a resting-place, +a little tired and wistful, gazing at the sinking fire in the west. + +Suddenly the air was quick with galloping, and all around her were +jumping horses. Startled, but unafraid, she watched them coming over +the hedge, imagining that as they came they would vanish. + +"You shouldn't stay there, you might get hurt," called someone, pulling +up at her side. "How are you?" + +She had been looking on, as one would look at a gallant picture, not +realizing that she was in its midst. Instinctively she drew back. All +had stopped, and hounds were clustering in the bottom, where the +huntsman had dismounted, and was peering into a drain. Many heads were +turned, with a rough kindness that excused curiosity, in her direction. +Perhaps they were all Barnaby's comrades, who missed him, and saw in +the pathetic figure one who was missing him more than they... + +But the man who had drawn up beside her was leaning down to her like an +old friend, barring out the rest with his shoulder. His horse, still +excited, jerked at his bit, and flung a white flick of lather on her +black dress. Without thinking, she stretched out her hand to his +muzzle. + +"Take care. He's an uncertain brute," said Rackham. "You like horses?" + +"I used to ride," she said. + +Something awoke in her at that velvet touch, and she could not finish, +thinking of other horses. + +"Good," he said quickly. "Tell you what. I have a mare that would +carry you. I'll come and talk it over--if my aunt will let me in." + +He laughed a little under his breath at that. "How do you get on with +her?" he asked. "_She's_ a warrior--!" + +Susan lifted her eyes to his face. His abrupt friendliness could not +entirely conquer the fluttering apprehension of danger in his +good-nature that made her unaccountably shy of him. There was +commiseration in his look--and admiration. + +"Look here," he said; "we're cousins--by marriage. I've some warrant +to be officious--and you're alone in a strange land, aren't you?--and +all that." + +Was it her imagination, or did he drop his voice significantly? +Perhaps he was glancing at their first meeting, pitying her as a reed +bruised in Lady Henrietta's warlike hands. Perhaps--no, she could not +read his expression. + +The huntsman straightened his back, and walked stiffly towards his +horse. A man who was giving up passed by and gravely took off his hat; +she watched him hooking with his whip at the bridle gate. She was +afraid that they would all ride off and leave her with Barnaby's +kinsman, and his penetrating smile. + +"Anyhow," said Rackham, "I'm here if you want backing.... Just let me +know if you need any kind of help." + +A scream on the hidden side of the spinney beneath them linked up the +field, believing in one of the glorious surprises that light up the +dragging end of the day. The huntsman pushed right through the misty +tangle, calling on his hounds, and the riders disappeared like a +swirling river. A minute and they were gone. + +The girl listened breathlessly to the thudding of distant hoofs. Her +heart beat a little too fast, disturbed by that brief interlude of +excitement. She stood quite still until the last gleam of scarlet +faded, and the galloping died away, leaving a tremendous quiet. There +was no sound at last but the wildfowl, far away on the lake, beginning +their sunset chaunt. + +Half the household had rushed out to look for hounds, and were +returning singly, more or less out of breath, as the girl came home. +It was astonishing what a commotion the hunt, in its passing, had +awakened in that sad household. Lady Henrietta herself, with a shawl +on her head, was in the garden, peering. Her sporting instincts were +struggling in her with a kind of rage. + +"Tell me who were out," she said. "Oh, of course you can't. But +_they_ would know who you are. I am glad they saw you. It would +remind some of them--a man is so soon forgotten! To think of them all +hunting and fooling just as they used; with him left out--! Did they +run from Tilton? I don't suppose a man of them wasted a thought on him +till they saw you there. Did they change foxes, Susan?" + +She talked on eagerly, answering herself with conjecture as she hurried +the girl into the warm house, out of the gathering rain. Macdonald, +the butler, was better informed than she, and his mistress seized on +him as he slipped in, wiping his brow, short-winded but triumphant. He +it was who had holloaed the fox away. + +"Come here and tell me all about it," said Lady Henrietta sharply. +"--At your age, Macdonald--!" + +He approached with solemnity, remembering his dignity, and his +rheumatism, an inextinguishable light in his eye. + +"They ran from Owston, my lady, and lost the fox on yon side of our +bottom spinney. He must have been about done, by the way scent failed, +and they couldn't pick him up again for the gentlemen crowding forrard. +No, my lady, there was two sticks crossed in the earth--and the +drainpipe clogged. But we found 'em one that'll take them a sight +farther than some of them care to go. A real fine fox that was!" He +wound up with real pride. + +"And who was that on the bay?" asked Lady Henrietta. "He took the +fence well, Macdonald." + +"That was his Lordship," allowed Macdonald, but grudgingly. "Ah, my +lady, I seen Mr. Barnaby take that very jump that day they killed their +fox in the park. Clean and fine he went up, and lighted; he never +smashed no top rail!" + +"I know--I know," said Lady Henrietta. "The day he put out his +shoulder." + +"That was a rabbit hole," said Macdonald jealously. "Ah, my lady, his +Lordship will never go like him!" + +Dismissing Rackham with the scorn of an old servant staunch to his +master, he shook his head mournfully and retreated. Lady Henrietta had +turned abruptly from her cross-examination, and held out her hands to +the fire. + +The incident, slight as it was, and brief, coloured all their evening. +Afterwards, Lady Henrietta returned to the subject, amusing herself +with surmises. Had Susan noticed a man with a grizzled moustache and a +furtive eye?--and another who had a trick of jerking out his +elbow?--and one who rode like a jack-in-the-box, starting up +continually in his stirrups? And had she seen a woman in brown, who +usually backed in under the hedge at a check, talking secrets with a +lank man, her shadow,--and all unwitting that there were two sides to +hedges, and that voices filtered through? Insensibly, she branched +into reminiscence, telling caustic histories of these Leicestershire +unworthies, who were all unknown to Susan; and the girl hardly +listened, sitting with her cheek on her hand and a dreaming brow. + +The short interlude had impressed her. But in imagination she saw, not +the splendid figure that had crashed over the hedge down yonder,--but +another, one silently haunting the dim pastures where he had ridden +once, sweeping out of the dusk, and passing into the dusk again. The +swift scene came back to her, with its wild rush of life, hounds, and +horsemen,--only, instead of his cousin, she pictured Barnaby, to whose +memory she had dedicated herself. + +It was wearing late. Soon Lady Henrietta would interrupt herself, +breaking off with a remorseful brusqueness, and order her off to bed. +How quiet it was in the library, that vast, comfortable room! How safe +she felt, and how sleepy, only dreaming, not thinking of anything. + +The white fox-terrier with the bitten ear had stolen down to her and +lay on her skirt. There was a kind of fellowship between her and the +dog. When it jumped up all at once with a shiver she stroked its back +softly, wondering why it alone was excited by the wind whistling +outside the house. And it looked up in her face and scuttled like a +thing possessed down the room. + +"What's the matter with Kit?" said Lady Henrietta, pausing.--"I daresay +she heard Macdonald shutting up in the hall."--And she went on talking. + +Far down the room the heavy curtain swung hastily, and fell back. It +was Susan who, without warning, lifted her eyes and saw somebody +standing there. + +He had walked right in out of the wind and rain, had flung off his +dripping cap, but had not waited to unbutton his greatcoat; and he +looked as he had looked in his picture, but no ghost--real,--with +dreadful blue eyes, and a smiling mouth. + +The girl started to her feet. One wild moment she stared at him. Her +own cry sounded strange in her ears, very far off ... and then the +world went round. + + * * * * * + +Slowly she drifted back into consciousness, and she was lying on her +bed, surrounded by fluttered women, whose amazed whispering reached her +like the dim clamour in a dream. + +"Poor thing; poor thing--it was too much for her." "It was wicked of +Mr. Barnaby to startle her like that. But how like him----!" + +"Lord, Lord! his face as she lay on the floor!--and his mother rating +him as if he'd never been dead an hour----!" + +"'You've killed her!' said she. 'You've killed her!'" + +"Like as not she'll go out of her mind, poor lamb!" + +The quavering excitement hushed suddenly as she stirred. + +"Hold your noise, you!" the old housekeeper adjured the others, pushing +them on one side, and patting her anxiously, promising something in a +voice that shook, tremulous and coaxing,--as one might dangle the moon +to quiet a frantic child. + +Up the long corridor came a man's step, and the pattering of a dog. +The housekeeper jumped, and ran from the bedside, and the maids clung +hysterically together, looking with a scared eagerness at the door. A +superstitious terror was still painted on their faces. + +Barnaby was not dead. The whole dreadful comedy was scarcely clear to +the girl, so dizzy was she with this one miracle, the thing that was +impossible, and was true. Shame had not yet burnt up wonder. She lay +motionless, with her hands on her heart, listening to his step, and +waiting for the sound of a voice that she had never heard. + +"How is she?" + +Oh strange, kind voice, asking that! Susan caught her breath, +remembering who she was not. + +The housekeeper, running out, had closed the door nervously, and was +posted with her back against it, half in a rapture, and half +reproachful. + +"Oh, Mr. Barnaby--! Oh, my gracious!" + +Collecting herself, she went on in a trembling hurry. + +"She's come round at last; she's come to herself;--but the doctor says +we must keep her quiet. You can't come in, sir! It might do harm. He +said so before he went to my lady.... I daren't let you in, Mr. +Barnaby.... Please! ... I've told her you'll come to her in the +morning ... and I was to give you her love." + +The girl started up, horror-stricken, and fell back on the bed, +covering her face. Would nothing silence that foolish tongue, inspired +by its ill-judged haste to pacify the presumed impatience of the man +who had done the mischief? Through the guarded door, through her shut +eyes, Susan had a scorching vision of Barnaby, the stranger, listening +to that brazen message. And between her convulsive fingers she heard +the old servant babbling on.... No, after that, she could not bear to +look him in the face! + +Panic seized her. It grew upon her as she lay quiescent, enduring the +ministrations of sympathizers who would have scorned to touch her if +they had known. Barnaby had not spoken. He had not said to them, "She +is an impostor." He was letting them pity her, handle her gently ... +till to-morrow. + +They had given her something to make her sleep, but the draught was +impotent; instead of soothing, it was exciting a strange confusion in +her head. She got out of bed at last, hearing nothing but somewhere in +her room the heavy breathing of a dozing watcher. Slowly at first, and +then quicker, as the impulse took hold of her, she began struggling +into her clothes. She must go, she must go; she could not stay in this +house. + +Driven by her panic, that could not think, could not reason, she set +her desperate foot on the stair. + +The lights were not out in the hall below; they shimmered faintly as +she passed like a shadow towards the door. If someone should come--! +Feverishly she tried to undo the bar; the latch was very heavy. Her +heart beat so loud that she was deaf to all other noises. + +She did not know that she was not alone till a hand was laid on her +shoulder. + +She turned round, shaking from head to foot, leaning against the door. + +"Oh, let me go!" she cried. + +He looked at her gravely. + +"I'm afraid we're neither of us real," he said. "Let's try not to +scare each other.... They tell me that you're my widow." + +She turned her face from him. + +"Don't look at me. Oh, don't look at me! Let me go," she repeated +wildly. + +His fingers closed over hers, still fumbling at the bar. + +"I don't think I can do that," he said. "The doctor blames me for +frightening you out of your life. He'd hold me responsible if I let +you rush out of my house in the middle of the night like this. If you +don't mind I'll ask you not to make me out a worse fool than I've been +already. And--you aren't going to faint again, are you? Sit down a +minute----" + +His arm went round her quickly; he had unloosed her hands from the +door, and put her into a chair by the fire, before she was sure that +she had not fainted. She leant her whirling head against the packed +red cushions. + +"They gave me something to make me sleep...." she murmured. + +He stood a little way off on the hearthrug, watching her. Kit, the +terrier, lay down suddenly between them, as if it had him safe. + +"How did you know me?" he said abruptly. + +"There is a picture of you," she said; "and I--thought of you so often." + +The man who had been dismissed so lightly from his world looked down +with a queer expression. He could not doubt the utter unconsciousness +in the tired young voice. She had nothing to hope for. She was being +judged. + +"In the name of Heaven, why----?" he burst out, checking himself too +late for, the girl stood up and faced him, calling up all her courage. + +"Because I am a shameless wretch," she cried unsteadily. "A liar and +an impostor.... You don't ask a thief why he has robbed you. You send +him to prison.... You don't laugh at him...." + +"You child!" said Barnaby. + +The strange, kind note in his voice broke down her desperation. +Somehow, she found herself stammering out the story of her Southern +childhood; the brave old family ruined by the war; the last of them +dying, the last friend gone, and she left undefended, to fight for +herself in the world. Not strong enough to nurse the sick, not hard +enough to win her way in business; driven to try if she could live by +her one poor gift of acting;--what could she do but catch at the +happy-go-lucky kindness that had flung salvation to her? + +"I could have died..." she said, scorning herself; "but I ... came." + +"Hush!" said the man softly, all at once, turning round to meet +interruption. The doctor was coming downstairs, deliberately, as +became an all-wise and elderly dictator, peering short-sightedly into +the hall below. + +"Bless my soul!" he said. "Barnaby, you villain, she's not fit to be +talking to you. I warned the servants it was as much as their lives +were worth to let you go near her;--and look at this!" + +He shook his head at them both, but relented, with his fingers on +Susan's pulse. His professional knowledge of woman mitigated his +surprise at her quick recovery. Some women could bear anything, after +the first shock of pain or joy. + +"Good," he said. "Since you're awake, and in your right mind, which I +had hardly dared to hope for,--I'll send you up to Lady Henrietta. She +has been calling for you. Just sit beside her, and tell her very +quietly, over and over again, how Barnaby looks, and all that. I can't +risk her seeing him yet;--her age isn't so elastic,--and nothing will +satisfy her but you." + +Instinctively the girl moved to obey, and stopped. Would Barnaby let +her go to his mother? As far as she could understand--it was still +stranger than a dream--he had not yet proclaimed her an impostor. But +surely the time was come. + +"Oh," said the doctor, following her look; "your husband must do +without you." + +And then Barnaby spoke. + +"You're a bit hard on us, doctor," he said. "We had a lot to say to +each other. But my wife and I can finish our talk to-morrow."--His +voice, as he turned to her, lost its humorous note and became grave. +"Go up to my mother,--please." + +She went. The doctor watched her go, and, shaking off a certain +perplexity, addressed himself to the younger man. Old friend of the +family that he was, his gruff manner poorly hid his emotion. + +"Good heavens, man!" he said. "I can't get accustomed to you. Shake +hands again, will you? I want to feel positive you are not a spook." + +"What about my mother?" asked Barnaby. He too had been watching the +girl go slowly up the stairs. + +"She'll be all right, if we can keep her quiet," said the doctor +cheerfully. "But she can't afford to have any more shocks. Her heart +is bad. You didn't know that, of course. She is a courageous lady, +and has taken all your vagaries gallantly up to now, but this has been +a bit too sudden. If it hadn't been for your wife's collapse +distracting her attention for the moment, taking her mind off the +greater shock----" + +He broke off there. + +"How the devil was I to know?" burst out the other man. "I had no +notion that I was dead." + +"Hadn't you heard----?" + +"How should I? Look here, doctor, I haven't been sulking in +civilization; racketing in cities. I've been roughing it, going up and +down in the earth.--There wasn't much use in writing letters. I told +my mother I would turn up again some day, and she wasn't to be +surprised. I did send her a line, now and then, the last of them a +greasy scrawl in a mining camp, where there was one bit of paper among +the lot of us, and I won it. She can't have got that.... When I had +worked the restlessness out of my blood--some fellows can't manage +that, it takes them all their lives--I had a fancy to come home and +walk into the old place as if I had never left it.... It's simple +enough----!" + +He was bending forward, stammering a little in his excitement. +Suddenly he laughed. + +"By George!" he said. "So that was why the porters fled from me at +John o' Gaunt!" + +The old man surveyed him anxiously, wiping his glasses. + +Often one heard of men who, seized by a thirst for adventure in the +rough, or unbalanced by passion and disappointment, had thrown up +everything familiar and dropped out, to savour the hard realities of +life. Sometimes they reappeared, sometimes only peculiar stories +drifted to their old set about them, and those who might know were +dumb. He felt a most irrational alarm, an impulse to hold fast to this +prodigal. + +"You'll not vanish again?" he said hastily. "You won't want to roam in +search of adventures now you have a wife to take care of." + +Barnaby stretched out for a cigarette and lit it. There had always +been a box of them in one corner of the chimney-piece. It did not +strike him as odd that he should find them there. + +"Have a smoke, doctor," he said. "It'll steady your nerves a bit.... +Yes, I'm sobered." + +He halted a minute, and the terrier at his feet, remembering an old +trick he had taught her, sprang up and blew out the match. As he +stooped to caress her, she began licking him furiously. There had been +some other trick, but she had forgotten that. She made a clumsy effort +to keep his attention by crossing her paws and waving them, which was +how it had begun.... + +"Good dog," he said, and she dropped at his feet, proud of her +cleverness, though grudging his notice to the doctor. + +"You're right there," he went on, as if the thought amused him. "A man +is a fool to go tramping over the world, searching for adventures, when +they come to him on his own hearth." + + * * * * * + +Lady Henrietta lay propped high with pillows, talking fast. + +"I want Susan!" she complained. "Bring me Susan. The doctor shan't +put me off with his opiates. I can't trust any of you but Susan." + +And the girl came faltering into the room. + +Lady Henrietta caught her hand, nipping it tight in hers. + +"Susan, my child," she said. "What a little cold hand you've got! +They're hushing me as if I was a lunatic, humouring me with tales. And +my heart's so funny. I can feel it misbehaving.... I'll die if they +make me angry. Come here, closer. I want to ask you--_you_ won't tell +me comfortable lies.--Has Barnaby come back?" + +"He has come back," said Susan. + +"Are you deceiving me?" whispered Lady Henrietta. "Are you in league +with the doctor?--I sent old Dawson out there, you know, and he said +the report was true.... He saw the boy's grave. He put up a stone.... +And the lawyers came croaking together like ravens, and swore there +wasn't a scrap of doubt.... And Rackham stepped into his shoes, and I +made them search for you high and low!--Oh! no, it's not true! I am +wandering in my mind. Look at me. You and I couldn't cheat each +other. Let me see it in your face!" + +But Susan could not. She dropped her head over the hand clasping hers +so fiercely, and her unstrung nerves gave way; she could not keep from +sobbing. + +Strangely enough, her crying seemed to soothe Lady Henrietta. + +"Ah, you never used to cry like that!" she said. "He has come." She +stroked the girl's hair with her other hand. + +"I suppose they'll let me see him in the morning," she said rationally. +"He will be asleep now, poor boy. He shall come up to me when he has +had his breakfast, and pour out his ridiculous adventures. They must +give him devilled bacon. Margaret, Margaret, stop snivelling, and +remind them to give him devilled bacon. Keep holding my hand, Susan, +and don't cry so. We have got him back." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +The dim light was already struggling in through the curtains before +Lady Henrietta dropped off to sleep, quieted. Susan dared not withdraw +her hand. Her arm grew stiff, ached awhile, and was numb; her head +slid against the pillow, and her eyes shut at last. + +She awakened with a start to hear Lady Henrietta's laugh, weak but +natural, and a man's exclamation, sharp and pitiful, above her. + +"Take her away, Barnaby, and give her her breakfast," his mother was +ordering. "Didn't you see her? The poor child has been sitting up +holding my hand like that the livelong night. I was clean off my +head.... I might have known you'd behave like this. Oh, I can bear +the sight of you now; don't be nervous; I'm not one of those +sentimental mothers--! But since I've taken to heart attacks I have to +be treated with circumspection"--she desisted a minute in her rapid +effort to disguise emotion:--"Barnaby, I am obliged to you for--for +_her_." + +"You're fond of her, are you, mother?" said Barnaby. + +Lady Henrietta laughed at him, amused at his queer intonation. + +"Fond?" she cried. "I adore her. The first minute I saw her, a little +pale wisp in her widow's weeds, I adored her. She isn't your style at +all, you puzzle. You used to admire a more lavish figure.... I can't +understand it in the least; but I'm thankful. And that reminds me you +must take her up to London immediately, and have her put into proper +clothes." + +"Oh, I say----" Barnaby was beginning. She took the words out of his +mouth. + +"Yes, it's your business," she said. "We can't have her going about in +black; it denies your existence--! and you look like a battered scamp +yourself. You'll have to go to your tailor. If you want any money +I'll write you a cheque.... They won't honour yours while you're +dead.... Wake her up now, and take her away to breakfast--and take +care of her if you can!" + +He bent down and touched her arm, and she lifted her head, still dazed, +and stood up from her cramped position. + +"Run away," said Lady Henrietta. "Run away, you two. I am going to +wash my face." + +She kissed her hand to them as they went through the door, and, in +spite of herself, her lip quivered. She lay quite still for a minute, +raging at herself. + +"Quiet!" she muttered. "Quiet! It's nothing to die about, stupid +heart!" + +Downstairs the servants were all hovering, lying in wait, and watching +for a glimpse of the master. Macdonald himself had drawn two +arm-chairs beside a small table by the fire, and unwillingly, but +discreetly, took himself off and closed the door behind him. + +"Sit down," said Barnaby gently. "I'll pour out your tea. You must +want it." + +She let him do as he would, accepting her cup at his hands, drinking +obediently, trying to eat; patient, but not at all understanding him. +The winter sun streamed in red, shining in her hair, making lights in +its curling darkness; it even lent a fictitious pink to her cheek as +she sat, so soberly, facing the man in whose house she was, whose ring +was on her finger. When she turned her head a little the glimmer died. +Irrelevantly--why should the thing strike him then?--he likened her +paleness to the creamy tint of the hawthorn blossom, warm, and smoother +than the wintry white of the sloe. She had been ill, too; she was very +fragile. + +All the while she dared hardly glance at him, though she knew that he +was regarding her, not with the righteous wrath of a swindled Briton +whose house was his castle, but with a strange expression that, less +comprehensible, was little less alarming. The situation seemed to +amuse him.... And it was like a scene in a play; intimate, domestic, +and yet unreal. They were obliged to sit so close at the confidential +little table, with its clinking china, and its neighbouring row of +silver dishes keeping warm in the fender.... She had a wild fancy that +if she thrust her hand in that fire that leapt and crackled so +naturally it would not burn. + +"Well," he said suddenly. "What's to be done?" + +He had risen and come round to her side; the little delay was over. +They had finished breakfast.... + +"I don't know," she said. "I am at your mercy." + +"Do you mind if I smoke?" + +His matter-of-fact politeness, as he waited with the cigarette unlit +between his fingers, provoked in her a fugitive smile. + +"There!" he said. "You are beginning to see the funny side of it too, +as I do. A man who has knocked about the world as I have doesn't +bluster like a Pharisee and a brute, unless he is mad,--or angry. What +on earth could I do to you?" + +"Are you not--angry?" she asked faintly. + +"Not exactly," said Barnaby. "I am rather astonished at your pluck. +Of course, it was frightfully dangerous, and you have got us both into +a hole.--I'm not going to preach at you----" + +He hesitated a little. + +"You know," he said. "I'm an awfully prudent chap, but once or twice +in my life I have lost my head. When I went to America three years +ago, I was only fit to be clapped into a strait-waistcoat. Of course, +I did the first mad thing that came into my head." + +There was a touch of some old bitterness in his voice then, and a sort +of retrospective contempt. + +"It's a grim fact, that," he said. "It can't be got over. I don't +know what possessed me;--but there _was_ a marriage." + +"She is very beautiful," said Susan, uttering her own wandering +thought. She did not know why. + +"Who?" said Barnaby. "Oh,--yes. She was like somebody I knew." + +There was silence between them. Then the man laughed. + +"It was one of those unaccountable acts of temporary madness," he said. +"We're all guilty of such at times. Did she tell you why we fell out? +How she mistook me for a sort of prince in disguise, and turned on me +afterwards, as furious as I was--disillusioned? Don't let's talk about +that. We have our own problem to consider." + +"Yes," said the girl, catching her breath. + +"I am afraid," he said gravely, "we must keep it up for a bit." + +"I--don't--understand," she said. + +"It's the only thing to do," he said. "Look at it fairly. Since the +lady who married me sent you over as her substitute, she can't complain +if I should acknowledge you as my wife. It injures nobody.--Don't +mistake me!" + +For the girl had sprung to her feet, and was gazing at him with horror +in her eyes. + +"Wait!" he said. "I'm not one of these talking fellows.--Perhaps I'm +not putting it clearly. As far as I can make out, the doctor believes +another shock on the top of this one might possibly kill my mother. +She's not to be worried or contradicted. I can't go to her and tell +her, 'That girl you are so fond of is an impostor. I've turned her out +of the house,' seriously, how could I? And do you imagine she'd be +contented with any excuse I could make to her for your disappearance? +I can't risk it. You wouldn't want me to risk it. Come, you owe her a +little consideration----!" + +"Oh--!" she cried. "Yes"--but still she trembled. + +Barnaby smiled down on her encouragingly. Apparently,--after that one +quick word that had hushed her outcry,--he was unconscious of +misconstruction. + +"Besides," he said, "there will be row enough in the papers over my +reappearance. I couldn't stand them getting hold of this. Good Lord! +It would make us a laughing-stock." + +"I am--sorry," she said, in a broken voice. Barnaby dropped his own. + +"Don't be sorry," he said. "Be a brave girl, and let's keep it to +ourselves." + +Her heart jumped and stood still. She looked at him like some wild +thing caught in a trap, without hope or help, crying its uttermost +defiance. + +And the man understood. His eyes looked straight into hers, blue and +earnest, no longer careless. + +"If I trust you," he said, "you must trust my honour. Please +understand that I am a gentleman. We'll play our farce to stalls and +the gallery, and when the curtain is down we'll treat each other with +the most profound respect." + +She tried to speak and could not. His voice softened. + +"There's nothing else to be done," he said. "It won't be so hard on +you;--you're an actress. And we'll find a way out, somehow. Perhaps, +in a month or two, I can manage to have important business in +America----" + +She caught at that. + +"And take me with you and drop me somewhere--?" she suggested. + +"Take you with me and drop you somewhere?" he repeated. "Exactly. We +must think it over." + +"I could get killed in a railway accident--anything!" she said, in an +eager, breathless voice. + +"How accommodating!" said Barnaby. "There, that's settled. To my +mother, and all outsiders, we'll be the most ordinary couple; but in +private it shall be Sir and Madam. Shake hands on it, and promise me +you'll play up." + +He took her hands, the one with his ring on, the other bare. And Susan +looked up at him, and was not afraid any more. She felt safe, and yet +reckless;--almost as if she did not care at all how it ended, as if +nothing were too dangerous, too adventurous for her to promise him. + +"Right," he said. "And it's comedy, not tragedy, we're playing. We +mustn't forget that." + +"No," she said uncertainly; but she was not so sure. + +"And now I'm going round to the stables," he said, changing his tone. +But he turned back again on his way to the door. + +"What am I to call you?" he asked. "The other lady had a string of +fine-sounding names. Which of them do you go by?" + +She coloured. His question smote her with the strangeness of their +compact. + +"Only one," she said, "and that was my own. I asked your mother to +call me Susan." + +"Susan," he said to himself. "Susan ... I'll remember." + +She took one impetuous step towards him as he was going out. + +"How good you are to me," she cried unsteadily. "Oh, how good you are!" + +But Barnaby shook his head. + +"Poor child," he said briefly. "I hope you'll always think I was good +to you." + +And he went out of the house whistling to himself. + + * * * * * + +"What shocking writing!" said Lady Henrietta, "and how blotted! Who's +your illiterate correspondent?" + +Barnaby had stuffed his letter into his breast-pocket as he walked +across the room. + +"Julia," he said shortly. + +As if upon second thoughts, he felt for it again, pulled it out, and +tossed it into the fire. Its agitated, irregular lines started out +black on the burning pages. Susan, who was sitting on the velvet curb, +turned away her face that she might not read. + +Lady Henrietta, frail but indomitable, throned upon her sofa, eyed her +son jealously. + +"How did she know so quickly?" she asked. + +"She heard it from somebody, I suppose," said Barnaby. "Why, mother, +do you imagine a real live ghost can visit Leicestershire without the +whole county hearing? ... She wants me to go over and show myself." + +"You're not going?"--her tone was sharp. + +"No," he said. "I'll tell her I am under contract to exhibit myself +exclusively at a music-hall.--And besides, I have to run up to London. +I want to give old Dawson the fright he deserves. He must have been in +a frantic hurry to wipe me out of his books. What on earth made you +choose him to hunt for me?" + +"Take Susan with you," said Lady Henrietta. "Go with him, my child, +and don't let him out of your sight." + +"I don't think she would like it," said Barnaby, doubtfully, but his +mother was not to be gainsaid. It was almost as if the mention of +Julia had revived a vague apprehension in her, as if she were afraid to +let him go by himself. He submitted, laughing. + +"Well," he said, "if you'll lend her your fur coat I'll wrap her in +that and take her. We'll go up in the morning and come down at +five;--and she can amuse herself getting clothes." + +He bent down to Susan. + +"If you don't mind," he said, half in a whisper; his tone was +apologetic. "I think you had better come." + +And so they went up together. + + +In the train he supplied her with an armful of picture papers, and she +studied them gravely, hidden from him behind their outstretched pages, +till they reached London, when she had to put down her screen. Once +only he interrupted her. + +"Look at that," he said. + +The train was swinging on, making up time between Kettering and Luton; +the letters danced as he held out his open newspaper, with a finger on +the place. Its heading stared at her--"A LEICESTERSHIRE ROMANCE." + +"That," said Barnaby, and his eyes twinkled--he had put away +seriousness--"is all about you and me." + +She did not see any more pictures after that, only bits of what she had +read before he took back his paper and, turning over the crackling +sheet, settled into his corner. Whatever she tried to look at, she saw +only the printed column proclaiming the dramatic return of a well-known +sportsman supposed to be dead; and at the bottom, where his thumb had +pressed the paper, a touching reference to the subject's beautiful +American wife.... + +At St. Pancras he put her carefully into a hansom and got in beside her. + +"Now," he said, "this is our dress rehearsal. First, we must see about +your theatrical wardrobe; that's the expression, isn't it? I'm going +to take you to the woman my mother goes to, and while she is rigging +you out I'll cut away to my lawyers, and see my own tailor; and then I +shall fetch you and we'll have lunch. We shall have to get accustomed +to each other." + +Driving through the streets with him was curiously exhilarating. +Perhaps her spirit was responsive to a reaction. After all, she was +young.... If Barnaby knew, and did not condemn her, might she not for +a short while dare to be light-hearted--leave the weight of it on his +shoulders? + +London had become a city of enchantment. She had passed through in the +care of Lady Henrietta's messenger, at the end of her journey over the +sea; and then she had felt tired and frightened, and she had looked +listlessly out of the cab windows, thinking that if Fate betrayed her, +she might find herself wandering friendless in these very streets. Now +the dark ways were gilded.... + +"Here we are," said Barnaby, jumping out. "_Mélisande_. She's a great +friend of ours, but she ruined herself racing, and started the shop as +a different kind of gamble. Let's go up." + +In the show-room upstairs two or three haughty ladies were trailing up +and down, on view. The customers were not allowed to touch them; these +sat round the room on the sun-faded yellow cushions, gazing at the +models as if they were made of wax. + +"Mélisande is uncommonly sharp," said Barnaby. He had walked in boldly +and given his name to the presiding genius, who had simply glanced and +vanished. "Do you see these creatures sweeping to and fro?" + +"Yes," said the girl. "Poor things; they look very cross. I suppose +they are dreadfully ill paid?" + +Barnaby smothered an irreverent laugh. + +"Paid?" he said. "Not a farthing. She introduces them in the season, +and, in return, they have to act as dummies. They hate it; but she +knows how to drive a bargain. It's a fine advertisement. Half the +world comes to stare at the beauties--it's funnier than a picture +gallery. And, of course, the pull of being taken up by Mélisande in +her society capacity is enormous." + +"Who are they?" asked Susan, puzzled. + +"Oh, heiresses, of sorts, They used to be whisked away in their own +motors at six o'clock. I daresay they are still," said Barnaby. "Here +she is." + +An inner door flew open, and a stout woman with dark hair and clever, +tired eyes, artistically blacked, appeared. She ran up to Barnaby and +shook him, then let him go, and inspected him at all angles, with her +head on one side as if he were a Paris model. + +"Barnaby!" she screamed. "It is really Barnaby. You lunatic, I +thought you were dead and buried." + +"They all thought that," said Barnaby. "It's a bit rough on me." + +"Let me pinch you again!" she said. "I can't have you in here if +you're not alive. It's against all my rules, and customers are so +timid. Of course, as a ghost you might be very useful. Make the +brutes pay up!" + +"What an eye to business!" he said, enduring her inspection. + +"My dear man, I am in the workhouse! My friends insist on patronizing +me, and ordering all kinds of magnificence, and then they go away +imagining they have done me a kindness. I never dine out without +meeting at least one frock that's a bad debt, and you can't be +brilliant when you are being eclipsed by a wretch opposite out of your +own pocket. But what do you want? I can't come out to lunch. I am +rushed to death. There's an awful old Russian princess in there I +can't get rid of. She says she wants to learn the trade, and I daren't +leave her with my designs. I can't make out whether she's only a +Nihilist or a kleptomaniac." + +"I want to put my wife in your hands," said Barnaby. "I'll come for +her at two. Can you burn all that crape, and dress her in something +sensible?" + +Mélisande screamed again, fixing her eyes for the first time on Susan. + +"Is it a joke," she said, "or have you been playing fast and loose with +other people?" + +"I don't know what you mean," said Barnaby, but his eyes hardened. She +glanced at his face, subduing her voice a little. + +"I have never been paid," she said, "for an outfit of the most +expensive mourning. The day after we read of your--departure in the +papers, Julia Kelly came in here and asked what was the proper thing to +wear when you lost your--love. I told her it varied. If the man +hadn't proposed black would look like an affectation. I suggested +mauve as harmlessly sentimental. And she said, 'But if he were +practically your husband?' and I said, of course, practically widow's +mourning, but not a cap. And she wore it...." + +He moved restlessly under her detaining hand on his sleeve. "I'm +betraying no confidences," she said. "It's a matter of common +knowledge.--How long, in the name of goodness, have you been married? +Who is she?" + +"Two or three years," he said. She was still holding on to his coat. + +"Wait," she said. "Wait. Oh, you are as mad as ever. How do you want +her dressed? She looks awfully young, poor child." + +But Barnaby had made his escape. + + +An hour later Susan looked at herself in the long mirrors that were all +round her, and did not know herself any longer, she was so changed. + +She had grown used to the deep black garments that seemed a part of her +life. Far off and dimly she remembered the old family lawyer in +shocked consultation with her nurses, his old-fashioned anxiety that +when she was strong enough to travel she should be fittingly attired, +and do honour to her sad estate.... + +A door opened at the other end of the room, and she saw Barnaby in the +mirror, saw him standing petrified on the threshold till Mélisande's +laugh called him to his senses. + +"Do you like her?" said she. Susan did not hear what he said. But in +the mirror he came towards her, and she turned round to meet him shyly. + +"Take her away, then," said Mélisande. "Buy a shilling's-worth of +violets and stick them in her coat; it's all that's lacking. I'll send +down a trunk full of oddments with you to-night.--And give my +compliments to Julia when you see her. 'To account rendered,' you can +murmur in her ear." + +Her malicious laugh pursued them a little way down the stairs. They +came out into the street and walked along side by side. + +"I went to see Dawson," said Barnaby suddenly. "Burst into his office, +meaning to scare the old jackass out of his wits. He--he turned the +tables on me. Made me feel a brute." + +"How?" asked Susan. + +He did not explain at once, engaged in making a way for her on the +pavement. Then he answered briefly. + +"He told me how he had found you." + +His tone, angry as it was, warmed her soul. + +"But,--it was not your business," she said, in a low voice. "It had +nothing to do with you." + +"I couldn't tell him that," said Barnaby. "Lord, how he went for me, +poor old chap--! Spared me nothing. Said I could never make it up to +you.... It's ridiculous, isn't it? But if you'd heard him attacking +me!--I had to promise him I would try." + +He was walking on beside her, so close that his arm brushed hers, his +long strides falling in with her little steps. And he was looking down +on her with a sort of raging kindness. + +"You poor little girl!" he said. + +They went on for awhile in silence, and then Barnaby stopped in his +absent-minded progress. His good-humour was back, and the joke of this +expedition was again uppermost in his head. He pointed with his stick +at a strange and wonderful work of art in a milliner's window. + +"Let's go in here and buy some of these hats," he said. + +All her life Susan remembered that day with him. It was all so absurd, +so simple. That strange town, London, was always to her the place +where he and she made acquaintance, playing to ignorant audiences their +game of Let's Pretend. She began to know him;--the way he walked, +swinging his shoulders, stopping short when a sight amused him; his +whimsical earnestness over little things, and the lines that came round +his mouth when he smiled.... + +There were horses being put into the train when they arrived at St. +Pancras. The grooms in charge of them were leading them gingerly +through the people, past the lighted bookstall, persuading them up the +gangways into their boxes. There was a small commotion as one of them, +snorting, refused to step on the slanting boards. Tugging and shouting +at him made him worse; he began to plunge, scattering the onlookers and +the porters smiting his flanks. + +"Hi! you infernal idiots..." said Barnaby. "Back him in." + +He went over to the horse himself, and took hold of his bridle, turned +him round, and walked him in like a lamb. Then, as the porters clapped +shut the side of the horse-box, he waited to ask whose hunters were +going down. Susan, lingering a little way apart, saw a big man with a +cigar in his mouth spin round and seize him. Two or three more shot +out of the throng and hurled themselves upon him, wringing his hand. + +"It's Barnaby himself," they shouted. "Barnaby himself!" + +They crowded him up the platform, a noisy escort, hiding their feelings +under boisterous chaff; Meltonians, old acquaintances.... They passed +by Susan, gossiping hard. + +All at once Barnaby broke loose from them, turning back. "Great +Joseph!" he said. "I've lost my wife!" + +What if he had? What if she had cut the tangle, had slipped when his +back was turned into one of these moving trains, and passed out of his +life, out of the bustle into the throbbing darkness, like a match that +had been lit and extinguished, leaving no trace? + +She watched him hurrying back, looking for her; saw his quick glance +along a glimmering line of carriages passing him on his left, and +guessed his apprehension. Soon he was bearing down on her, charging +through the press, and had pulled her hand through his arm. + +"It was too bad, wasn't it?" he said. "I'm awfully sorry,--Susan." + +There was a real relief in his voice. She felt it, wondering. Was he +so glad to find her still his prisoner, his accomplice? + +"Did you think," she said, and in her own voice laughter struggled with +a strange inclination to tears,--"that I had run away?" + +"Come on," he said cheerfully, not replying. "Hold on to me. Those +chaps are looking at us." + +He marched her to his friends, who had halted in a body when he dashed +back, and waited, grinning sympathetically, for his return. + +"Here is my wife," he said. "I brought her up to town to get rid of +her widow's weeds." + +They shook hands with her solemnly, a kind gravity in their manner to +her subduing them for a minute; and then, as Barnaby settled her in the +Melton slip, they hung round the carriage door, and their tongues were +loosened. + +"Where did you pick up these horses? Are they part of your baggage +from another world?" + +Barnaby laughed. + +"They aren't mine," he said. "I brought nothing back with me, not even +a collar-stud. Why, I pawned my watch in the States!" + +"Wouldn't the ferryman let you return on tick? But you were mixed up +with them, Barnaby, when I saw you. I'd know your voice anywhere, +shouting Woa!" + +"He's bound to get mixed up with horses, alive or dead," said the big +man. "I tried to find out myself whose cattle they are, but the name +is unintelligible. They can't pronounce it down there; not all the +sneezing and snarling in the station can do it. I'll bet its another +of these wild Austrians." + +"D'you remember the three counts who set out on a slippery day to ride +to the meet at Scalford;--and were fetched back to the Harboro', the +three of them, half an hour afterwards, in a cart?" + +"Broken ribs, wasn't it?" said Barnaby. + +"Cracked heads, I fancy. I'll never forget the sight it was; all you +could see of 'em was the three shiny top hats, stove in." + +The lights were flickering in the station only the great yellow +clock-face shone unchangeable, with its minute hand creeping up. Down +below on the platforms scurrying passengers went their ways, gathering +in thickening groups and eddying here and there round a pile of +luggage. Everywhere there was restlessness. + +Susan leant back in her corner. Their end of the platform was a little +dim, and it was less frequented. She noticed a woman's figure passing +along the train. + +Barnaby was loitering, half in, half out of the door, absorbed in +chatter. They were asking him if he were coming out with the Quorn, +offering to lend him a crock to-morrow; relating the current news about +men and horses. Once the big man turned his head casually as the +figure that Susan had noticed passed. His mouth shaped itself in a +whistle, but he made no remark. Only his broad back seemed to block +out a little more of the view. + +"It's about time we started," he said. + +"What's the matter down there?" asked Barnaby. + +"Oh, I fancied I saw a customer," he said promptly. "Did you take your +wife to the grasping Mélisande? You might have patronized another old +friend in me. There's a hat in the window I trimmed myself." + +"What?" said Barnaby. + +The big man chuckled heavily. + +"You didn't know I'd gone in for millinery?" he said. "If you had had +your eyes about you you'd have seen my establishment. _There's_ a +business that women never will understand! They haven't got bold +ideas; they are too fond of twisting. It was an accident, really. I +was financing an aunt of mine, Clara Lady Kilgour,--and the thing was +going bankrupt. I strolled into the shop one morning and found Clara +weeping, and the Frenchy who had lured her into it sniffing like a +noxious weed in a bed of artificial roses. Just by way of cheering her +up a bit, I snatched up an affair the serpent was working at--a muddle +of feathers and scraps of lace.--'You'll ruin that!' they wailed. But +hey, presto! I had found my vocation. I kicked out the bailiffs and +took it over. And now I am running it as 'The Earl of Kilgour, late +Fleur-de-lis.'" + +The guard came down the train, shutting doors. Barnaby's friends +dropped off, tumbling into the smoker behind. The whistle shrilled. + +"Wouldn't you rather get in with them?" said Susan, in sudden shyness. + +"What? that would never do," explained Barnaby, pulling up the window. +"The poor dear fellows have left us religiously to ourselves." + +He threw a _Westminster_ on her knee and took off his hat. + +"What was Kilgour staring at, do you know?" he asked. "He seemed +rather disturbed; didn't want us to notice." + +"I don't know," she said. + +Barnaby laughed out loud. + +"We got on famously," he declared. "We'd pass muster anywhere. But +you are tired out, aren't you? Lean back in your corner and go to +sleep." + +The slip carriage was rocking from side to side, and her head ached +from the strain and excitement of the day. The same shyness that had +smitten her as his friends left them made her shut her eyes under his +regard. She rested her head on the stiff padding, listening to the +thrum of the engine, wandering in dreams that could not match the +fantastic unlikeliness of what had befallen; and all the while feeling +his gaze on her. + +She was roused by the jar as the train stopped at Bedford. The +carriage door was opened and closed; they were no longer by themselves. + +"Barnaby!" + +Tears were imminent in the emotional Irish voice. + +"How do you do, Julia."--The man's tone was firm and hard. + +"I knew you were in the train.... But with these gossiping wretches +all round you!--I could not bear to meet you with them...." + +"Don't waken my wife. She's tired." + +His warning struck abruptly on her impulsive murmur. She sat down, +rustling, unfastening the furs at her throat. The train had started +again, and was speeding on. + +In her far corner Susan stirred. This was the figure she had seen in +the distance, the figure that Barnaby's friend had tried to block out +from his attention. All Barnaby's friends must guess how hard it would +be for him to meet her again, since he had once worshipped her.... +Looking straight into the flying darkness, Susan tried not to see his +profile reflected in it, tried not to watch his expression, inscrutable +as it was. + +"What fools we were!" sighed Julia. + +"Regular fools," he said. + +The girl drew a quick breath. She had thought she was beginning to +know him, and still she could not guess if he spoke in irony or +despair. She raised her head; fluttered the paper on her knee.--They +must not think that she was asleep. And Barnaby looked at her. + +"This is an old friend of mine, Susan," he said sedately. Julia +presented a pale face and shining eyes. + +"Mrs. Hill must be quite accustomed to the enthusiasm of your friends," +she said. "_I_ have been lingering at St. Pancras since three +o'clock,--somebody told me you had been seen in a restaurant--for the +sake of travelling back with you." + +"How good of you," said Barnaby, in the same constrained way. "We +didn't know, did we, Susan, that we had been spotted?" + +Julia turned to him again; her speaking eyes hardly left him.--"Not +good," she said, "only human." + +The train rocked on, filling the inevitable pause with its throbbing. +Then Barnaby's voice cut into the silence. + +"We don't mind indulging your human curiosity, Julia," he said, "but +why stare at us so hard? We, too, are only human, aren't we, Susan?" + +"It is so strange," said Julia, "to think of you with a wife." + +Barnaby bit his lip. He reddened. Perhaps the sight of her had shaken +him, had hit him deeper than he was willing to betray. Her emotion at +meeting the man whom she had mourned as dead was visible; she made no +attempt to hide it. Perhaps his own was the greater for being stifled +by his determined effort at self-control. He got up, fiddling with the +window-sash. + +"Would you like this a bit down?" he said. "How is your headache?" + +Did he know that her head ached, or had he addressed her at random? +The girl felt an unreasonable anger at his ostentatious solicitude. +Was he playing her off against his old love? Did such bitterness wait +behind their compact? For the first time, his kindness hurt her. All +a farce, all a blind, and a make-believe.... + + + + +CHAPTER V + +In the morning Barnaby went out hunting. He started gaily, in old +clothes, on a borrowed horse. + +"Next time I die," he said, "and they put away my relics, I beg you all +not to scatter infernal white knobs of poison among them to keep away +the moths. I call it irreverent. And unless this horrible smell wears +off I'll have to keep to leeward. A single whiff of it would kill the +scent." + +He came in at dusk, stiff and splashed, but contented, calling for tea, +and waking up the house. It was extraordinary what a difference his +presence made as he limped into the hall and hung up his whip. Life +and vigour seemed to blow in with him; the terriers rushed at him +dancing, barking, pattering into the library at his heels. Lady +Henrietta, propped on her sofa, gave a little sharp sigh. + +"Give him his tea, Susan," she said briskly. "How did he carry you, +Barnaby? Who was out?" + +"Oh, all the world and his wife," he said. "Carry me? He wouldn't +have carried a grasshopper. But I changed on to a chestnut that +Rivington wants to sell. I've bought him. Not much to look at, but he +goes well enough, and I was so pleased to feel a real galloper under +me, I'd have given him any price.... It's good to be here again. +Though my boots are as hard as iron. I believe I am lamed for life. +By the by, Susan, I've let you in for one thing. I couldn't help it." + +She looked up, startled, from her place by the fire. + +"It's only to dine out with some people to-morrow night," he said, +noticing her alarm. "I couldn't get out of it, really; they mobbed me +so." + +"Who is it?" asked Lady Henrietta. + +"Only the Drakes," said Barnaby. + +His mother nodded. "Yes; show her off to your friends!" she said. + +She was in and out of Susan's room next evening all the while she was +dressing, and when the girl's toilet was finished she came with her +hands full of jewel-cases. + +"You can't wear much to-night," she said. + +"It would look dressed up. But a few pins,--and a star or two to give +you confidence in yourself.... My dear, you don't know what a help it +is! And all the women you'll meet have been at one time or another in +love with Barnaby. Hold up your head, and don't let them make you +wretched. Is that you, Barnaby? I want you." + +Barnaby passed by on his way from his own room, and her shrill call +stopped him. His step outside sent the colour into Susan's cheek, and +his voice came doubtfully through the door. + +"Yes, mother?" + +"Come in; come in. How shy you are!" said she, and the handle turned. + +"You will tire yourself," he said, but she brushed aside his +remonstrance. + +"Rubbish!" she said. "I have the whole evening to lie up and swallow +physic. Come here and stick these in for me, will you? Margaret is so +clumsy." + +"I beg your pardon," he said, under his breath, as he bent down, +fulfilling his office.--"The exigencies of the piece must excuse me." + +"What a queer way of apologizing for running a pin into your wife!" +said his mother sharply. She might have been trusted to overhear. He +had straightened himself, and was withdrawing rather precipitately, +when his eyes fell on his own picture above the chimney-piece. "What +is that thing doing here?" he asked, off his guard. + +Lady Henrietta desisted from her pleased contemplation of Susan decked +out with jewels. + +"Well!" she said. "Of all things! Do you mean to say?--It has been +there ever since she came. I had it hung there myself to be company +for your heart-broken widow." + +"Anyhow, we'll have it down now," he said hastily. "You'd rather not +have the daub glaring at you, wouldn't you, Susan?" + +Lady Henrietta turned her back on him. + +"Don't mind him, my dear," she said. "We'll keep it." + +There was warmth in her tone. She squeezed the girl's arm, bidding her +remember that none of Barnaby's old flames could hold a candle to her. +Somehow or other he had fallen under her displeasure. + +"I'm afraid my acting doesn't come up to yours," he said, when they +were shut into the motor. "My mother thinks I am too undemonstrative +... that I am unworthy of my good luck." + +"Don't!" she said. + +He laid his hand comfortingly on hers. + +"Look here, little girl," he said. "It's no use taking things hard. +We have to make the best of it. It won't last for ever.... We must +look at the funny side of it. That's the bargain." + + +The swift drive through the night was already over. Three men, pushing +aside the servants, were slapping Barnaby on the back. They bore a +family likeness to each other, big men, with creased red necks, and +short, rumpled sandy hair. + +"Come along in," they cried heartily. "The house is full of old +friends wanting to get at you,--and nothing but odds and ends for +dinner." + +But one of them managed to lower his hearty voice a trifle.--"You won't +mind meeting Julia Kelly? She has asked herself for the night." + +"Who else?" said Barnaby, in his ordinary tones. + +"Kilgour and the Slaters and Rackham and the Duchess;--and a few more," +reeled off his host, thankfully dropping the awkward subject now he had +got out his warning. He rushed them into the house, and Susan was +bewildered by the tumult that greeted them, the sea of unknown faces. +Men and women alike were seizing on Barnaby and exclaiming. She hardly +realized that they were at the same time taking stock of her. The +three Drakes stood near her like a bodyguard, kind and stolid, settling +into their usual phlegmatic form; and she felt glad of them. + +"Getting on all right?" said Barnaby, as she passed him on her way in +to dinner, and she smiled back at him. + +He and she were not near each other; but once or twice he looked her +way, bending his head and slewing half round to catch a glimpse of her; +that--or else Lady Henrietta's stars, kept up her courage. She +listened politely, not understanding much, to the local gossip running +along the table. + +"Have you picked up any horses yet, Barnaby? Sims has one or two going +up on Saturday, at Leicester." + +"I can let you have a bay, a capital fencer----" + +"Oh, you don't palm off your roarers on me. I heard him to-day," said +Barnaby. + +"Well, I don't deny that he makes a noise----" + +"I suppose you think I've been in the wilds so long I don't know a +horse from a hedgehog!" said Barnaby. "Can anyone tell me what became +of a black mare I had four seasons ago?" + +"Do you mean Black Rose?" said Kilgour. + +"That's the one. Do you know who has her?" + +"I have," said Kilgour. "I took her from Peters. The fellow couldn't +ride her. You can have her back if you want her, Barnaby; she isn't up +to my weight. I remember you rode her at Croxton Park." + +"And won," said Barnaby. "Want her? Rather." + +Kilgour chuckled heavily. + +"She isn't as young as she was, mind," he said. "But she can go still. +I suppose you're not as keen as you used to be on breaking your neck?" + +"As keen as ever," said Barnaby, with conviction. + +"Does your wife ride?" + +The question sounded maladroit; it was inconceivable that Barnaby +should have married a wife who did not. His hesitation was singular in +their eyes; they all stopped to listen. + +"I really don't know," he said. + +In the general burst of laughter Susan caught his glance of amused +consternation. In that hard-riding company his ignorance was +incredible. Men, having a curious predilection towards the unsuitable +in wives, he might, after all, have committed that inconceivable piece +of folly. Barnaby's wife might lamentably turn out incapable of +sitting on a horse. But that Barnaby should not know--! + +It was while they were all laughing at him that Susan became aware of +Julia Kelly. + +She was on the same side of the table as herself, placed far from the +lion of the occasion; and was leaning her elbows on the table, looking +full at Susan. The man between them was sitting back in his chair +roaring helplessly at the joke. + +"What an ignorant husband, Mrs. Hill," said Julia, and her musical +voice vibrated through the laughter. "Do you ride?" + +"I have ridden," said Susan quietly. It was difficult for her to blot +the memory of an encounter that the other woman ignored. + +"But not with him?" + +Mrs. Drake, springing up, made diversion. + +"Why not have a steeplechase?" she cried. + +She was one of these little women, all skin and bone, who cannot bear +inaction, and whose wishes are carried out. + +"Cross country," she said, silencing a growl from her husband. "You +can ride the point-to-point course. We'll send round and tell +everybody, and get them all here by twelve. And we'll put grooms with +lanterns to mark the jumps." + +The men jumped up, enthusiastic. The idea was just mad enough to +appeal to their sporting instincts. In about three minutes the +dining-room was deserted, and five motors were humming into the +darkness to apprise and rally all who were reckless enough to join. In +a neighbourhood always ready for a frolic there was no danger of the +inspiration falling flat. + +Barnaby himself was in the thick of it, mapping out preliminaries with +the other men in the hall. The women clustered together, almost +hysterical with excitement. And Susan drifted apart from the +chattering circle, feeling outside it all. + +She heard a gruff voice in her ear, and started. The tall, gaunt, +hard-faced Duchess was standing over her. + +"How are you getting on?" she said. + +"It is a little strange to me," said Susan. + +"But you are not moping," said the Duchess. "I can see you are made of +better stuff. They are all mad, of course, but nobody will get hurt, +if that is what you are afraid of." + +Yes, that must be what she was afraid of, what inspired her with an +undefined wretchedness. If she had been what they thought her, surely +she would be feeling nervous. She was glad she had not made the +mistake of pretending to be gay. + +"I am an old friend of your husband's," said the Duchess, "--and he has +asked me to be kind to you. I shan't warn you to beware of Julia; all +the rest of them will, if they haven't already;--but I don't call that +kindness." + +"Barnaby asked you to be kind to me?" repeated Susan; she could not +keep the wistfulness out of her voice; she had been thinking herself so +utterly forgotten. + +"Yes. It isn't the fashion here for husbands to worry about their +wives, but he is a bit old-fashioned. I told him I'd come and talk to +the little fish out of water. It is just a strange pond, my dear, and +you'll soon begin swimming." + +The clash of voices grew more uproarious in the hall. A man put his +head in and vanished, looking for somebody. His brief appearance made +the contrast between the excitement out there and this empty room more +emphatic. + +"I must get out of this," said the Duchess, switching her train as she +rose from the sofa. "Kitty will have to lend me a habit and one of her +husband's coats. I shall ride. There's a brook jump where there'll be +trouble, and I want to see the fun. You had better drive with Kitty. +I'll see to it. Have you anything warm to put on?" + +Her caution was hardly equal to her good nature, and the clamour in the +hall hardly drowned her indignant voice as she seized on a confidant in +the doorway. + +"I like her pluck. She's terrified to death, of course, but she +doesn't look woe-begone. We must seem a pack of dangerous lunatics.... +Where do these Americans get their spirit?" + +"You don't read history, do you, Duchess?" + +"Why?" + +The man she had seized laughed shortly, amused at her bewildered face. + +"Oh," he said, "we English are frightfully cock-a-hoop over our +pedigrees. We don't remember it's they who are condescending to us. +There's bluer and better blood across the Atlantic than any of ours, +and it isn't smirched. They don't boast. They don't remind us of our +blotted scutcheons.--We to talk of race!" + +"What on earth do you mean, Kilgour?" said the Duchess. "Half of them +are Huns and Finns, and the scum of Europe." + +The big man was leaning against the door-post; his bantering tongue +took on a sudden heat. + +"A few," he said. "But the rest--! Scum, Duchess?--We're the dregs. +There's not one of our great families that isn't mixed with the blood +of traitors; that hasn't at one time or another sold its honour or +stained its sword. Scots and English, all that was best of us once, +are there, handing their valour down. After Culloden the country was +drained of its gentlemen. Why, you can still hear the Highland tongue +in South Carolina.... _They_ went into exile while we hugged our +estates and truckled to an usurper. And the soul of a country is the +soul of its heroes.... Oh, I believe in race!--Let the rest of us take +a pride in our tarnished titles and wonder at the fineness of strangers +who are descended from the men who lost all for the sake of honour and +loyalty to their King!" + +The Duchess dropped her blunt voice into a lower key. + +"Poor old Kilgour," she said. "You're thinking of that little brute +Tillinghame and his dollar princess." + +"Well!" he said, between his teeth. "You've only to look at them!--And +his people sneer at her for aspiring to bear an illustrious title that +began in dishonour, and has been dragged a few hundred years in the +mud--!" + +The Duchess moved away from the door; she had remembered Susan. + +"I wish you'd capture Barnaby and send him in to his wife," she said. +"He has forgotten that she exists.... I've had to make up a +message.... I couldn't stand the dumb wistfulness in her face. It's a +foolhardy business." + +"I've just sent for Black Rose," said Kilgour, in his ordinary tone. +"He was keen to ride her." He raised his voice. "--Here, Barnaby, +you're wanted!" + +But the messengers were returning already, and strange cars were +dashing up. The hubbub was at its height. It was impossible to win +Barnaby's attention. He turned his head impatiently as Kilgour made a +grab at him. + +"What is it now?" he said. "Oh, don't bother me, there's a good +fellow. They want to settle how--Jim, Jim, is that you? Have you +brought the horses?" + +He ran down the steps. + +A clatter of hoofs was audible in the darkness, and a groom, riding one +horse and leading another pulled up below the steps, steadying his +charges as they flung up their bewildered heads, blinking, kicking up +the gravel. + +"Ah, my beauty!" said Barnaby, in the voice of a lover. "Did you think +I was dead?" + +"Is that Black Rose?" called one of the men crowding to the door. +"Wasn't she sold?" + +"She was. But I'll have her back," he shouted up to them, rubbing the +mare's dark head. "To the half of my kingdom I'll buy her back!" + +The women, wrapped thickly, and disguised in furs, were streaming into +the hall. Julia Kelly, who had lingered to the last, and was not yet +ready, rushed down impulsively to his side. + +"Oh, Barnaby, is that Black Rose? Dear thing, is she there? Oh, +Barnaby--!" + +Her voice thrilled and sank; she stretched out her hand, patting the +mare's neck, rejoicing with him. + +"It's like old times, isn't it?" he said. + +The night wind ruffled his bare head, kissed a wisp of Julia's lace and +blew it against him. She might have been forgiven for thinking his +thick utterance was for her. The little scene, to all present who knew +their tale, was romantic. + +Kitty Drake looked over her shoulder in a funny, conscience-stricken +way; the Duchess was poking her in the back, and at the same time +interposing her rugged presence between romance and Susan. In a minute +the girl was shielded by an oddly-sympathizing bevy of women, fussing +over her in a transparent hurry to see that she was wrapped up warm. + +The stable clock behind the house was beginning to strike, and the men +who had been dining there had disappeared to change. Nobody was +measuring the length of that interview.... At last Barnaby came in +three steps at a time, a portmanteau in his arms. + +"I say, Kitty; where can I go and dress?" + +She looked at him severely over Susan's head. + +"Run in anywhere," she said, and he pursued his impetuous way upstairs. +Julia reappeared by herself, on her face what Kitty Drake stigmatized +as a maddening consciousness. + +"They say they are going to ride in their shirt-sleeves," she said, +"but that will hardly make them visible. It's nearly pitch dark +outside." + +"They are idiots," said Kitty Drake. "Fancy Gregory calling to us when +we were upstairs to know if we would lend them our night-dresses. I +told him I was too thrifty." + +"Why not?" said Julia. "Barnaby can have mine." + +A blank pause saluted her speech, and then, with one accord, the women +began to acclaim the notion as if it were the most ordinary thing in +the world. Even Kitty, in her haste to dissipate the impression that +Julia's declaration might make on the girl beside her, caught up the +idea and made it hers. She flew up and down arranging. + +"A bit mediæval, isn't it?" said Kilgour, watching the riders as they +struggled with gossamer raiment that sometimes flopped over their heads +unassisted, and sometimes clung, entangling them in cobwebs.--"In the +days of knighthood we all wore bits of our ladies' clothing." + +The Duchess grumbled. + +"Pity we can't revive other habits," she said. "There was a useful +practice of wringing obnoxious people's necks." + +"Poor Julia," said Kilgour. "Don't grudge her her little triumph. She +only wants to publish it abroad that it was her own fault she was +forsaken." + +But the Duchess's brow was grim. + +The night was black and starless, and had been still. The villages +they passed gave back startled echoes, awakened out of sleep by the +rattling of the cavalcade. Susan was tucked in between Kitty Drake and +the Duchess, who intended to change to her horse when the race began, +and in the meantime was driving them at a smacking pace. She kept her +buggy at the head of the procession, and was the first to whisk round a +perilously sudden turning that led off the turnpike, and sent them +bumping into a field. + +In front of them stretched a dim line of country that had darkened into +strangeness, puzzling the most familiar eyes. Here and there were +flickering lights, like will-o'-the-wisps, luring and warning, +indicating danger. And the men were to ride there.... + +Susan stood up in the buggy, supported by Kitty's arm, straining her +eyes to watch the start. She could make out a little; by dint of hard +gazing she learnt to distinguish the figures that moved yonder. In the +middle of the field an indistinct line of riders were drawn up, waiting. + +A man shouted back to the watchers, and their prattle hushed. There +was an instant of absolute silence, suspended breath;--and then +somebody swung a lantern. + +"Go!" he cried. + +Leaping into the darkness the line of horses broke like a wave and +went, their limbs gleaming. Already they were blundering into the +first hedge, and there was a crash, relieved by laughter as the first +spill resulted in one man picking himself up unhurt. The rest were +swinging on; rising again, more warily, a little farther; and just +visible, for the last time, black objects against the sky. + +The Duchess set her foot in the stirrup and galloped off. Susan rocked +as she stood, and was nearly flung out as the buggy started forward, +and the whole cavalcade whirled blindly into a lane that was all ruts +and stones and turf. + +Strange what an unimagined wildness darkness and ignorance lent to that +plain strip of country. The fields that slanted were dreadful hills +sinking into unknown abysses, the brooks rushed like rivers, the hedges +lifted themselves gigantic. Many who had ridden over the ground by +daylight times without number exclaimed, and wished the night at an end. + +Kitty Drake, however, was screaming with delight. + +"Here they come!" she shrilled. "Oh, shut up, you people. You'll +scare the horses. I know it's awfully weird, but still--! That's +Dicky, of course. I'd know Nanny's frills anywhere; he looks like a +mad pierrot. Oh, and Colonel Birch, with Mrs. Uffington's chiffon +scarf tied on to him. Mrs. Uffington, it was base of you not to risk +it. My best garment is floating there, being torn to ribbons by +Gregory's spurs." + +"Sit down, Kitty!" cried somebody at her elbow. "You can't see +anything yet; it's all imagination." + +"I see it with my mind's eye," she declared; but subsided. + +A few men on horseback scampered out of the nothingness and drew up +beside them. This was the place to watch the riders jump the water. +They pressed close in a peering bunch, the cigars in their mouths +making red points in the gloom. The Duchess halted by the buggy, a +curious figure in Gregory Drake's greatcoat, with the sleeves turned up. + +"All right, so far," she said, in her gruff voice, cheerily. "They +have been signalling with the lanterns. Queer how the darkness seems +to swallow 'em up alive!" + +As she spoke they all heard a distant thudding. There was something +terrifying in this invisible approach; it seemed to promise +catastrophe. Surely some sudden end would come to that beating of +horses' hoofs--! Nearer and nearer the unseen racers came, until they +were almost on the top of the watching throng. Then there was a +glimpse of great beasts rising in the air. + +The first horse came down short of the landing-place, plunging into the +hidden water that ran beneath. His splash was followed by another as +the next man faltered and went in deep. Then a third went up. + +Someone had an acetylene motor lamp, and held it suddenly on high. It +made a vivid glare, illuminating that rider's face, his eyes staring +ahead, his mouth shut and smiling---- + +"Turn out that lamp. You'll dazzle 'em, you damned idiot!" yelled +Kilgour. "It isn't a pantomime!" + +The next horse had taken fright. There was stamping and swearing; and +then the blinding flare was extinguished, leaving the scene darker. +The faces that had shone pale and unearthly in that brief wave of +limelight could not longer be recognized. + +Susan shivered with excitement. That was Barnaby she had seen.... + +No woman was in his head just then; his spirit was intent on the +splendid peril of that night ride. Something in herself understood +him. She felt proud of him, reckless with him, afraid of nothing. But +he had landed and was away on the farther side. + +Now they were all in or over, and the water jump was deserted. The +last who had failed to clear it had struggled up the bank and swung +dripping into his saddle, feeling for his reins. They were laughing at +him because he had let go and tried to swim, not at first realizing +that it wasn't up to his knees.... + +But he had lost his head in the dark. + +There was time, if they hurried, to reach the hillside at the back of +the intervening dip, full of pitfalls, and gain a place of vantage to +witness what they might of the finish. Kilgour, who knew the country +blindfold, pushed on ahead, guiding them; and the rest trusted to his +instinct. He unlatched a gate, flinging it wide for the others to +scramble through, cut along close under the branching side of a +spinney, forded a water-course, and spun up a cart track; emerging +suddenly on the side of the hill. Behind him pressed a clattering, +jolting troop, that stopped dead as he threw up his arm and listened. + +The riders had to make a circuit, but they should be near. What was +the meaning of this long pause? of the utter silence? For the first +time the women betrayed a nervous thrill that was not pure excitement. +The waiting dashed their spirits. They tried to laugh, and their +laughter sounded strange. + +"There's bound to be some misfortune," muttered someone, as a night +bird croaked in the trees. And above the hush a woman's voice pealed, +hysterical, calling on heaven to witness that she had dissuaded +Billy---- + +"Hush!" + +The men who were judging talked in whispers as they sat quietly on +their horses, motionless, save for an occasional jingling bit, under +the clump of firs that was the winning-post. Their ears were on the +alert, but all the queer noises of the night were treacherously alike, +and that might be nothing but running water that seemed a distant +galloping. One man looked at his watch. + +"They're due," he said. "Bar accidents. Can't you hear 'em?" + +Then at last, clear in the distance, the gallop came. + +Far in that mysterious valley the lanterns twinkled, making the +darkness visible. Where the lights glimmered there was danger. + +"D'you see that?" said Kilgour in the ear of his neighbour. A spark +dipped suddenly.--"One man down." + +At the next jump another light went out. + +"A bit weird, these signals," said Kilgour's neighbour. "I don't like +'em; it's too infernally suggestive. Where are they now?" + +The watchers herded together, all standing up, all staring; trying to +pierce the gloom, as the unseen horses came thundering up the rise. +Singly they ran in. + +Susan was sure that Barnaby would win. She could not understand why +her heart beat so loud. + +"One--two--three--!" + +They were all frantically counting. Five men still up;--but not yet +near enough to distinguish faces. + +"If Barnaby isn't in the first three he's down." + +Who said that? She gave one shudder and was quite still. + +"Oh, God, don't let him be killed. Don't let him be killed!" she was +crying to herself. + +The fir trees spread their dark plumes overhead; in the boughs there +was a strange sighing.... If he was not in the first three, if he was +missing--her one friend in a land of strangers, lying there crushed and +lifeless in the dark:-- + +"Oh God--!" she cried under her breath. + +And then out of the blackness shot a headlong figure, cleaving it like +an arrow. That blur beneath was the final jump, the last hedge that +barred the way with its ragged line. And he charged it as if it were +not there, keeping on in his tremendous rush. + +"Barnaby!" they shouted. They knew his laugh before they could see his +face. + +"A near thing," he said, and pulled up the black mare, who turned her +head towards him as he dismounted, her eye-balls glistening in the +darkness with something like human pride. + +"You didn't steady her there," said Kilgour. + +"Steady her?--We had to come for all we were worth!" he said. + +The Duchess, striding afoot, made her way into the circle round him. +Barnaby was explaining how he had ridden into one of the +lantern-bearers, a silly fool who had turned his light and was standing +into the hedge; and how he had got off to make sure the poor devil +wasn't injured. He had had to ride after that like fury; no leisure to +grope his way.... + +"Since you are not smashed up," said the Duchess, shaking him by the +arm, "go and show yourself to your wife. You nearly frightened her to +death." + +She piloted him to the buggy, and stood by, with her unsentimental +countenance considerately averted. + +"I am so glad you won," said Susan. She spoke steadily, controlling +the traitorous catch in her throat. How was she to assure him that she +was not guilty of causing him to be dragged to her side? + +The man smiled at her stiff politeness. He was still hot, still +breathing a little hard, the spell of his ride still on him;--and +Julia's wisp of muslin was twisted round his neck. + +"I'm sorry you were scared," he said. "I'm rather in the habit of +doing ridiculous things like this. There wasn't much danger really ... +and I didn't think you would mind." + +His casual apology struck her like a blow. What right had she--? How +it must amuse him that she should affect to care. + +"I did not mind," she said proudly. "It was--funny." + +One of his friends was coming up with a coat to throw over him. The +men who had come to grief were straggling in, bruised and dirty, but +miraculously sound. Kitty Drake leaned over the wheel on the other +side, hailing them, calling to each man to ask if he was alive.... + +"Was it?" said Barnaby, and smiled. The glint in his eyes reminded her +of his face as the light flashed on him, dare-devil, reckless, down +there when he jumped the water. + +Perhaps the joke was a little too much for him. + +"You are not altogether a callous person," he said slowly. "I don't +believe you, Susan. You fainted when I came home...." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +"Dull?" said Lady Henrietta. + +The girl became aware of her with a start. + +Barnaby had just gone, and the house was quiet. Late as usual, he had +come clinking down in his spurs, and run out to his waiting horse; and +she had seen him off, but had not yet turned away from the door. Lady +Henrietta's uncommon earliness had surprised her. She did not know how +wistful her aspect was. + +"No," she said. "Oh no. I was only watching----" + +"To see the last of him," retorted Lady Henrietta smartly. "I know--I +know. One glimpse of him as he crosses the wooden bridge, and again a +peep before he cuts across by the willows. How dare you let him set +off day after day without you?" + +She paused. There was mischief in her eye, an unwonted touch of +excitement. One would have said she was plotting. + +"You are too lamb-like," she said. "I'll give you a horse. Tell him +you'll go hunting with him to-morrow." + +She laughed outright at the girl's look of consternation. + +"No," she said, "you wouldn't. My dear, you have got him, and you must +keep him. It's a woman's business to look after her husband, to throw +herself into his occupations, and rescue him from the ravening lions +that run up and down in the earth. Why didn't you back me up when I +attacked him last night, and he put me off with his nonsense about a +quiet pony? Why didn't you insist?" + +Susan flushed scarlet, remembering Lady Henrietta's unexpected +onslaught and Barnaby's good-humoured amazement; his vague promise of +giving her a riding lesson. He glanced at her mirthfully, and that +look of his had called up a hot disclaimer of any wish. Was it not in +their bargain that as far as possible they were not to haunt each other? + +"Since you are so meek," said Lady Henrietta, who did not miss her +confusion, "_I_ must put my finger in the pie." + +Her eyes were not young, but they were far-seeing; she turned from the +prospect at which Susan had been gazing, and laid authoritative fingers +on her sleeve. + +"Run upstairs," she said, "and get into your habit. I've told Margaret +to have it ready. It won't fit, probably, but you are not vain;--it's +borrowed. Don't stare at me, you baby! Rackham and I settled it the +night he dined here, while you and Barnaby were trying not to talk to +each other. I don't know whether you can ride or not, but you must +begin." + +She finished up with a chuckle. The sight of Susan's face--well, that +was enough for her. She had turned a more potent key than she knew. + +Two horses were pawing the gravel beside the door, and one of them had +a side-saddle on his back. She had seen them coming when she +despatched her daughter-in-law to dress. Rackham himself was waiting +on the steps. Lady Henrietta beckoned to him with the joy of a bad +child firing a train of powder. + +"I've told her," she said. "She'll be down in a minute. Take her once +or twice round the park, and if she doesn't fall off----" + +"She won't fall off," said Rackham. + +"You brought her a quiet horse?"--the conspirator was feeling a slight +compunction. + +Barnaby's cousin, his ancient rival, smiled under his moustache. "I'll +take good care of her, my aunt," he said. + +"You are an obliging demon, Rackham," she observed. "It was good of +you to give up your hunting." + +"They'll be at Ranksboro' about twelve," he said significantly. "If +you really wanted us to give Barnaby a surprise----" + +Lady Henrietta favoured him with an enlightening nod. Whether or no he +was bent on furthering her purposes, assuredly she might trust him. + +"Villain," she said. "You understand me; it's an experiment,--it's a +squib!" + +Twice Susan rode solemnly round the park. To her, remembering how, as +a child, she had ridden, cross-legged, bare-backed, anyhow, +anything--their solicitude was absurd. She swung her foot in the +stirrup, lifting a transfigured face. + +"_You_ are all right," said Rackham, glancing backwards towards the +distant windows. "I knew you could ride." + +He bent over in his saddle to unlatch the hand-gate that Barnaby had +ridden through before them, taking his short cut over the wooden bridge +by the willows. Keeping his horse back, he held it open. + +"Come out this way," he said. They went cantering up the lane. + +Dim and dark was the landscape, threatening rain, and the clouds were +sinking lower and lower, rubbing out the hills. A kind of expectation +hung in the air. A storm gathering perhaps. They rode up and up, +until the narrow green lane came to a sudden stop, and a break in the +high barriers of hawthorn let them on to a ridge that hung over a wide +sweep of valley. Underneath lay a fallow strip, reddish brown amidst +the green waves of pasture, and a party of rooks rose cawing above the +idle plough. + +Susan, her heart still dancing, laid a happy hand on her horse's +mane,--the willing horse that carried her so smoothly. + +"You like it?" said Rackham. + +There was a subtle difference between his guardianship and that of his +cousin. She missed that queer sense of security that she had with +Barnaby. Why, she knew not, but Rackham's neighbourhood troubled her. +She felt a nervous inclination to burst into hurried chatter. + +"It was awfully kind of Lady Henrietta to arrange it,--and of you," she +said; "though you were both afraid that I should disgrace you. Yes, +you were watching;--and she too: her mind misgave her when she saw me +in the saddle.--What is the matter with the horses?" + +"Look!" he said, smiling broadly. + +And immediately she guessed. Far on the right she distinguished a +flick of scarlet. + +"Oh!" she said, in an awed whisper, understanding. + +"That's one of the whips riding on," he explained; "they are going to +draw the spinney down there, just underneath. We're in for it, aren't +we?--Shall we stay where we are, and chance Barnaby's displeasure? +I'll open the gates for you, and give you a lead. Can you jump?" + +She laughed at him, carried out of herself, back in remote adventures +when there had been nothing she would not dare. Her blood was up, and +she felt her horse quivering beneath her. Hounds were in the spinney; +she had glimpses of dappled bodies ranging among the trees; at the +eastern side an interminable troop of riders were pouring into the +field. There seemed no limit to their numbers as they massed thicker +and thicker on the skirts of the cover till there was but the south +side clear. + +"Keep still!" said Rackham in a breath, and as he whispered a living +flash passed by. It vanished across the fallow, as a whistle shrilled +from below. One of the whips had seen him. + +"Steady!" said Rackham. "Hounds are coming out. He broke at that +bottom corner.--Now!" + +Her horse bounded away with his. She was close behind him as they +raced down the headland. The fence at the end was low; a thorn-crammed +ditch and a rotten rail. She took it, hardly knowing, but for her +horse's excitement, that she had jumped. He broke into a gallop then, +and she let him go. + +"Who's the lady out with Rackham?" called one man, waiting his turn at +a gap. The man ahead of him squeezed through before replying. + +"Don't know. She's chosen a damn reckless pilot!" + +But no man's recklessness could have beaten hers. She followed him +blindly; nothing daunted her, nothing dimmed the eagerness in her soul. +This was to live indeed. + +They were hard on the pack. She could hear them in front, could +sometimes catch a view of them flickering on. A great noise of +galloping filled the air behind, drumming hard; but she was still +keeping her lucky place in the van. She and Rackham.... + +There was something formidable ahead. She felt her horse faltering in +his stride, not afraid, but doubtful;--those that were close behind +were parting right and left; some of them were falling back. Without +turning her head she knew it. Recklessly she kept on. The others +might blench.... She would not. + +Up went her horse, and in mid-air she had time to ask herself what +would happen, to guess that it was touch and go. It seemed a great +while before they came down, with a jar and a stagger, galloping rather +wildly on. + +She was too excited still to feel tired, too ignorant of danger to know +what a wild line she was taking now. Just ahead of her Rackham had +disappeared with a crack of timber, and she must not be left behind. + +An ominous crash pursued her as she went through a stiff barrier of +thorns; a loose horse was flying past. She looked dizzily for Rackham, +wondering if it was his. It tried to clear the next fence riderless, +but was too unsteady, and swerving crosswise, nearly brought her down. +In the field beyond it was stopped by an oxer. Someone behind cracked +his whip.... + +"We've beaten the lot!" called Rackham; his voice came a little hoarse +in her ear. "Half of 'em funked that bullfinch, and there's one fellow +in the ditch----" + +She reeled in her saddle. + +"I've--no--breath left," she panted. + +"Pull up. Pull up!" said Rackham, and leaned over as she managed to +stop her horse. Her knees trembled and she held on a minute; she +thought she was going to fall off out of sheer fatigue. + +Hounds were baying on the other side of the hedge. They had got their +fox. People were coming up on all sides, in haste to mingle with the +few who had ridden straight. She was vaguely conscious of their +interested regard; she heard a general buzz of gossip. + +"There's Barnaby," said Rackham. He had dismounted, and stood by her +horse's shoulder, pretending to do something with a buckle, but in +reality waiting for her to recover. His arm was ready to catch her if +she should slide off; his wild eyes were fixed on her. + +"Don't forget it was with me, not with him, you rode your first run," +he said. The triumph in his whisper made her afraid. She felt like a +truant. + +What would Barnaby think of her? Would he be very angry? Had he +watched her riding, wondering who she was? She lifted her face, a +little proud, but troubled. All at once her glorious adventure wore +the look of an escapade. + +He had ridden up, but he was not looking at her at all. The set of his +mouth was hard. + +"I'll take charge of my wife," he said. + +How strange it sounded. Would she never get used to it? She had an +immediate sense of protection, of happiness out of all reason. But +what else could he call her, before the world? + +His cousin grinned at him brazenly. + +"If you haven't too much on your hands," he said darkly. "Oh, take +over your responsibilities if you like. You needn't fight me. It was +your mother's idea.... But she's tired. She mustn't stop out too +long." + +"It was a mad thing to do," said Barnaby curtly; "risking her life over +these fences--!" + +"Come, come," said Rackham, "don't paint me too black. I took the +greatest care of her. Didn't I?" + +"I was looking on," said Barnaby. + +He had turned to Susan at last, and she saw that his face was pale. +Something in him responded to her look of rapture dashed. + +"Poor little girl!" he said. "I didn't know--you cared about it--" +Then he smiled ruefully. "By Jove!" he said. "You gave me a fright. +I thought you'd get yourself killed a dozen times. And I had a bad +start. I couldn't get up to you. There, don't let's look as if we +were quarrelling, though under the circumstances,--do you think we +should?" + +She plucked up spirit to answer him in kind. "On the stage," she said, +"the audiences would expect it." + +"Well," he said, "we'll disappoint the audience.... You won your bet, +Kilgour; it is my wife. Wasn't it wicked of her?" + +She found herself trotting on at his side. Rackham had fallen back. +It was Barnaby who directed her, who rode at her right hand; and a +cheery crowd hemmed her in. + +At the head of the procession hounds were moving on. Occasionally the +authorities called a halt while they searched a patch of trees by the +wayside, or turned aside to examine a hollow tree. But these were not +serious diversions. Once, indeed, there was a whimper as the pack ran +scampering into a small plantation, and the huntsman went in to see +what it was, his scarlet glancing in the bare brown mist of larches. + +"I know what'll happen to us," grumbled Kilgour, as the verdict was +issued that it was empty. "We'll climb up on the top of Ranksboro' and +the heavens will open on us." + +The ranks closed up again as the pack tumbled back sadly into the road. +Kilgour was a true prophet; they were bent at last towards that +unfailing harbour. On they pushed, up hill and down, through a grey +village where the trees shut out the sky from the winding street, and +then slap in at a gate that let them on to the grass again. + +"Where are we?" asked Susan, as she was squeezed in the press through +the gate, finding elbow-room as her neighbours scattered on the other +side, spreading downward. + +"On the wild side of Ranksboro'," said Barnaby. "Stick to me if you +are thinking of getting lost. You'll see where you are when we reach +the top, and you can look down on the cover;--but that's at the other +side. Don't you remember the black look of it on the hillside, off the +Melton and Oakham road?" + +All were hurrying across the rough bottom, with its hillocks and furze +bushes, and patches of withered bracken; then, gathering in the narrow +bit that let them in under a fringe of trees, mounting upwards. On the +farther side of the summit they came out above a thick plantation; and +there they drew rein and waited, unsheltered, bare to the sky overhead. + +Down came the rain. + +"I wish I was dead," said a lank man behind Kilgour. "I wish I was +fighting a bye-election!" + +Those who were near huddled into the bristling hedge that might break +an east wind, but was useless against this downpour. A few slunk back +over the brow, and herded under the trees; the rest sat stubbornly on +their horses, humping their shoulders, their dripping faces set grimly +towards the cover below; hearkening to hounds. + +"Would you rather be pelted with words?" said Kilgour, ramming his hat +over his nose.--"Surely they trickle off you.... Jerusalem! we'll be +drowned." + +The lank man turned up his collar, feeling for a button. + +"Well, they are dry!" he said. + +"They don't give you rheumatism, I grant you," said a fat man beside +him; "but they aren't healthy. I don't care what a man's trade is, if +he can discourse about it, it's improbable he can do his job. And yet +we poor devils of politicians have to spin our brains into jaw----" + +"True," said Kilgour. "You don't trust a glib fellow to dig your +garden.... And yet you turn over your country to him." + +The fat man grunted. + +"_I_ never want to open my mouth again," he said. "I'm addressing six +meetings a week in my constituency, and nothing will go down with 'em +but ranting. Tell you what, Kilgour, we're going on wrong principles +altogether. What we want is Government by Minority. Just you get on a +platform and look down on their silly faces--! The fools are in the +majority in any walk of life; they swamp the sensible chaps, even +Solomon noticed that. And it's the fools we must please, because they +are many. We take their opinion; we let them settle things. The whole +system is upside down." + +"There's something in that," said Kilgour. "It always amuses me how +you vote-catchers despise a man who works with his head; and bow down +to your ignorant fetish the working man." + +There was a slight disturbance in the cover, but nothing came of it. +People shifted backwards and forwards; there was a smell of wet leather +and steaming horses. + +"Are you cold?" said Barnaby. + +Susan smiled. He was between her and the worst of it; the rain beat on +his upturned face as he sheltered her. She liked watching him ... she +was not unhappy. + +The lank man was trying to light a cigar. He glanced up between his +hollowed fingers, his eyes twinkling in a creased red face. + +"Our lives aren't worth living, Mrs. Barnaby," he said. "We are all +made so painfully aware of our inferior status. The tail wagging the +dog; that's what we have come to." + +The fat man followed his glance, and his disgusted expression gave way +to a friendly gleam. His puffy eyelids quivered. + +"Let us grumble," he said. "You see how the weather behaves to us when +we escape for a week-end from bondage. There isn't a bright spot +anywhere but one tale I heard lately in my division." + +The lank man tossed away his match; the cigar was drawing. + +"And what was that?" he said. + +"Well, it seems they got a Cabinet Minister down to rant against me," +said the fat man, chuckling. "He had made himself particularly +obnoxious to our militant sisters, and there were terrible hints as to +what the ladies were going to do about him. So a London paper +commissioned their blandest reporter to call on 'em, and incidentally +get at their intentions;--and he stuck a flower in his buttonhole and +tackled an engaging young suffragette, who confided in him the +tremendous secret. Swore him, of course, to silence----" + +"And the wretch betrayed her?" + +The politician grinned. + +"They were going to disguise themselves as men," he explained, "and +pervade the meeting in the likeness of divers of my rival's most +prominent supporters. _She_ was to make up as a well-known farmer who +happened to have lumbago;--leggin's, and corporation, and side-whiskers +gummed on tight." + +"Pity she let it out," said Kilgour. + +"Aha!" said the other man, "she was artless. Well the news got down to +'em somehow, just in time for the meeting, and they set a bodyguard +over anybody who looked suspicious. Couldn't keep out their principal +backers, or insult 'em by explaining, and hadn't time to +investigate.--And my rival got on his legs.--I'm told they were all +more or less in hysterics, each man glaring at his neighbour. And +these whiskers looked jolly unnatural in the artificial light. My +rival had got as far as to mention his 'right honourable friend who, at +great inconvenience'--when that old farmer started to blow his nose. +'Turn her out!' he screeched, and four men seized the astonished old +chap, and hoisted him, kicking and bellowing, to the door.... There +was a glorious row, I'm told. It practically broke up the meeting." + +"Ah," said Kilgour, "politics aren't always an arid waste." + +"No, occasionally there is rain in the desert. Are we ever going to +move. I'm soaking." + +In the dark heavens the clouds were frayed by glimmering streaks of +light. Barnaby moved impatiently, and beyond him Julia Kelly passed +by, changing her station. The girl who was sheltered by his shoulder +had forgotten that Julia must be there. She felt suddenly that she was +a stranger. + +How often must he and Julia have hunted together, how often they must +have ridden side by side, sharing the day's fortunes; whispering +contentedly to each other as he shielded her from the storm!--More +telling than speech had been Julia's half-sad, half-reproachful smile. + +"They've got him out!" cried Kilgour, spinning round and heading a mad +stampede. As the rest imitated him, Barnaby turned to Susan. "I'm not +going to let you out of my sight!" he said. + +Down the hill they raced. Hounds were flinging themselves across, +bursting louder and louder into cry, proclaiming that they were on his +line. And now nobody minded rain. + +For a little while Susan felt the magic of it again; the swing of the +gallop, the exhilaration of the jumps as they came; but all too soon +she flagged. They were hunting slower; hounds were not so sure of the +scent; they were slackening, losing faith. The huntsman went forward, +and the Master stopped the field. Then they went on again, running in +a string up the hedge. + +Barnaby turned his horse's head and let the crowd go by. He looked at +her significantly. How did he know that she could not keep on much +longer? + +"I'll take you home now," he said. + +"Oh, don't!" she cried. "I am so sorry.... Don't let me spoil your +day." + +He laughed. + +"I'll pick them up again later on," he said. "We must do the correct +thing, mustn't we? It would look bad if I let you go home alone.--Good +heavens, how tired you are! You can hardly sit on your horse." + + * * * * * + +Lady Henrietta, the mischief-maker, waited with equanimity for Barnaby +to come home. He had brought Susan back and gone off again on a fresh +horse, giving her no opportunity of a passage-at-arms with him. + +When he did return his coolness was disappointing. She waited until +she could contain herself no longer. + +"Why don't you ask after Susan?" she said at last. He looked up then. +His clothes had dried on him, he had changed lazily into slippers, and +was warming his shins at the fire. They had finished the day with a +clinking run. "She's not ill?" he said. + +"I put her to bed," said Lady Henrietta, "when she came in. The poor +child could hardly move.... I suppose you bullied her frightfully when +she turned up?" + +Barnaby went on stirring his tea and stretching himself to the blaze. + +"I told her to have a hot bath and a good long rest," he said, in a +grandmotherly tone. "What did you expect? Were you hoping that I +should beat her?" + +"I was hoping all kinds of things," said Lady Henrietta. + +"Such as--?" + +She lost all patience. What was the use of plotting if nothing she +could devise would rouse him? Anything would be more satisfactory than +that maddening smile of his. + +"Do you want to break the child's heart?" she cried. + +For a moment she fancied that he was startled; she could not see his +face so well, but the cup clattered in his hand. Then she discovered +that he was laughing at her. + +"Has Susan complained?" he said. + +"She?" said Lady Henrietta. "Oh, how little you understand her! +She'll never complain of you. All I hear I have to screw out of other +people. From what they tell me--! Oh, _she'll_ never complain, though +you and your Julia make yourselves a by-word!" + +She paused there, confident that there would be an outburst. Her +triumphant expectation was dashed; she was nearly struck dumb with +astonishment when she heard his voice. + +"It's a queer world, mother." + +This was indeed serious. He was not even angry;--and she had hoped to +make him furious. She scanned him anxiously, stricken with alarm. + +"You aren't well?" she said. + +"I'm a little bothered," he said. "Look here, mother; supposing--well, +supposing a man were horribly, irretrievably, fond of a woman,--and +would be a regular cur if he let her know;--would you condemn him for +building up a kind of rampart, playing with fire that he knew couldn't +burn him, to keep him from losing his head, and hurting the thing +he--the thing that was precious to him? Oh, damn it all, you can't +possibly understand." + +It was plain as a pikestaff. Lady Henrietta was justified of her +mischief-making. Something must be done. There was law and order in +any tactics that might vex the siren who was still robbing her of her +boy. Never in this world would there be peace between her and Julia. + +"If," she said, "you want me to believe that you married Susan to stick +her up like a ninepin between you and a woman who threw you over, who +can't bear us to imagine you are consoled----!" + +She broke off indignantly, but Barnaby would not quarrel. He got up +and laid his hand caressingly on her shoulder. + +"Don't excite yourself, mother," he said. "I was talking nonsense. So +are you.... If I were you I wouldn't meddle. It's more dangerous than +you know." + +Then he went away to change out of his hunting clothes, and she watched +his departure with a wistful exasperation, lying back on her sofa. + +"What a nuisance a heart is!" she said to herself. "He would have had +it out with me but for that." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +Susan was in the garden. + +There had been a frost in the night, and the bushes crackled; the late +winter sun was thawing it in the branches. Behind the cloudy glass in +the greenhouses were primulas and hyacinths, and all manner of scented +things, a bright blur against the panes; but she walked rather the +slippery paths in the lifeless garden. + +She tried to picture the blackened tufts tall spikes of blossom, and +the long line of rose trees, all muffled in dried fern, a bewildering +lane of sweetness. Imagination failed her. The blackbird that shot +out of the yew tree, screaming his sharp, sweet call; the little +wagtail running at a wise distance in the path behind;--they might +guess and remember what they would find in spring. She would be gone +then; she would have stepped off the stage. + +Foolishly she counted up the memories she would carry with her, looked +back at the great old house, so warm inside. Strange to think of the +time, so impossibly near, when Barnaby would release her, would tell +her that he had made his arrangements for her to slip out of this +fantastic life without scandal. + +Well, she had played up to him; she had never lifted a miserable face, +imploring him not to make her suffer so. + +Something was choking in her throat. She had not realized how utterly +she must pass out of his life until it struck her that she would never +see one of these English flowers. The garden became unbearable, +taunting her with its unknown mysteries, its hidden promise; and she +hurried down the weather-stained wooden steps into the park. + +There were rabbit tracks in the grass, and live things rustled in the +spinney. A mat of beech-leaves kept the primroses warm. She leant +wistfully over the rail, gazing down from the slatted bridge at the +water. It was rushing past, very deep. + +And then she found a snowdrop.... + +She heard the dogs scampering and looked up. + +"There you are," said Barnaby, putting his arm through hers in friendly +fashion. "--The servants, you know!" he reminded her in parenthesis, +jerking his head towards the distant windows. "Let's gratify 'em, poor +souls. They'll like to see us arm in arm." + +He threw a stick to the dogs, and they scurried down the bank to +retrieve it, but, missing it, found distraction in rummaging for a +water rat. Then he turned again to Susan. She had plucked the +snowdrop. That at least was given to her.... + +"You looked like that flower," he said, unexpectedly, "when I saw you +first." + +She answered him valiantly. + +"Was I so pale with fright?" + +"I wasn't thinking of that," he said; "but--the thing hasn't been so +difficult, has it, after all? I didn't ask too much of you? We have +been good comrades and all that, haven't we, Susan? You have never +wished----?" + +Wished it undone? She could not speak. It was over. He was going to +tell her that it was over. She thought of that far-off night of +amazement, of her panic-stricken impulse, of his hand on her shoulder +that had stopped her flight.... Ah, it had been worth it all. +Passionately she was glad of it. She had had so much. + +"No," she said, "I have never wished----" and, like him, she left the +words unfinished. + +And then, with the past close upon her, she forgot everything but him. +How she used to think of him, dream of him, dead, who had come to her +rescue! + +"Oh!" she cried softly, touching his rough tweed sleeve, "isn't it +wonderful that you are alive!" + +They stood a minute or two in silence, neither speaking, and then +Barnaby broke the spell. + +"Why did you wander down here in all that drenching grass?" he said. +"Your feet are wet." + +She began to laugh, helplessly, and almost against her will. + +"How like a man!" she said. "You all think it the direst calamity that +can happen. You remind me of Vernon Whitford, who, when the poor +heroine was despairing, was principally troubled because her boots were +damp." + +"I know," said Barnaby. "That's my mother's beloved book. She got me +to read it too. Some of it stumped me, but I remember that much. How +did it go?" his voice dropped. "'He clasped the visionary little feet, +to warm them on his breast.'" + +It hurt her to feel her cheek burning scarlet. There was no reason. +She hurried to defend herself from the wild fancies that might fill a +dangerous pause. + +"If," she said, and it was anger at herself that made her voice +unsteady, "I had thrown myself over this bridge into the river, you +would have cried out indignantly--'She'll catch cold!'" + +"I might," he said gravely. "We are material wretches. You must come +back with me and change your stockings." + +He marched her towards the house. One startled, serious look he gave +her, but his voice maintained the determined lightness with which it +was necessary to face the realities of their bargain. The funny side +of it was the only side that would bear looking at. + +"You're not impatient?" he said. "You like the hunting? and the life +over here? Can you stand it a little longer? We'll clear as soon as +we decently can, and think out the tragedy that shall part us." + +"Yes," she said; she was a little breathless. The windows yonder were +winking flame; it looked as if the house was on fire, but it was only +the setting sun.... + +"There's that horse my mother presented to you," he went on. "You will +have to keep him as a souvenir. Hang him round your neck in a locket, +what?" + +She could but laugh at his whimsical suggestion. + +"I'll keep nothing," she said. "An actress doesn't claim the stage +properties; her paper crown, her gilt goblet, her royal dresses. Not a +poor strolling actress like me, at least. Please, please--" her voice +shook a little. He must be made to understand so much, jest and +earnest. "Let me go out as you snuff a candle." + +"Will you?" he said. + +They had nearly reached the house; the glancing windows that had shone +afire in their eyes were dark. + +"I didn't come out to plan tragedies," said Barnaby. "I was sent to +fetch you. The Duchess is in there with my mother. There's the Hunt +Ball on in a day or two, and she wants us to dine and go with her +party. I think she has some notion of keeping her eye on you. She +thinks that I treat you badly." + +Susan hung back. + +"Must I go?" she said. + +"Of course," he said cheerily. "I'd never hear the last of it if I +went without you. And my mother is awfully keen on you eclipsing the +rest. She's sending in to the bank for all the family trinkets." + +"I wonder you are not afraid of my running away with them," she flung +at him recklessly. + +Barnaby laughed at her as one might at a foolish child. + +"Oh," he said. "I'll be there, mounting guard." + + * * * * * + +The Duchess was lodged in a ramshackle way over a shop. She was not +particular. After hiring all the stabling that was to be had in +Melton, she had packed herself into a few odd rooms, approached by a +dark entry and a narrow stair. It made her feel, she said, like an +eagle. + +But sometimes her hospitality outdid her accommodation. On the night +of the ball she had asked as many people as could be squeezed into her +dining-room; all intimate enough not to mind rubbing elbows; and dinner +was a scramble. + +"The youngest," she proposed, "shall sit with his back to the door, and +duck when the plates are handed in over his head.... Do be careful. I +put a little man there last year, but when the door opened he used to +chuck up his head like a horse, and smashed no end of china." + +Having settled this, she threw up a window and rang a bell violently up +and down. + +"That is for dinner," she said. "It has to be cooked outside, and my +people dawdle so. Would you believe it, I was ten minutes ringing for +my maid when I came in from hunting. She lodges a few doors higher up, +and I had quite a crowd in the street." + +"I remember," said Kilgour, "last time I dined with you, one or two +bets were laid as to what was happening to the soup in the street +below." + +"Accidents do happen," she acknowledged. "It isn't quite true, +however, that I stuck out my head once and caught them scooping up the +sauce." + +Susan, wedged in a corner between Kilgour and another equally massive +person, was puzzled by the face of a woman opposite, who was smiling at +her. + +"Don't you know me?" said she. "I recognized you by the dress you have +on. I am Mélisande." + +She noticed the girl's bewildered look at her yellow hair. + +"I keep a black transformation for the shop," she said. "My own idea. +But didn't you know my nose? How dear of you to forget it. People +call it my trade mark, and say it's Jewish. The worst is, I haven't +really shut up shop. I have a young hedgehog to chaperon here +to-night. Oh, I am perfectly unashamed!--She is all prickles, but +worth a great deal of money. I really couldn't bring her down with me, +so she is coming by herself in a special train, or some such +extravagance. I thought she might do for Rackham." + +"What?" said Barnaby. "Aren't you rather hard on my cousin?" + +"It is because he is your cousin," said Mélisande, "I am offering him +the hedgehog. Have you ever considered what your reappearance meant to +him? Don't we all know how hard up he is, and what a boon your +inheritance would have been? If I don't step in with my benefaction +he'll possibly murder you." + +"Scarcely!" said Barnaby. + +"Let me see," said Mélisande. "Give me your hand." + +But he would not. + +"You will frighten my wife," he said. + +"Give me the glass he was drinking out of," said Mélisande. Barnaby's +neighbour pushed it over to her, and she peered into it with alarming +gravity. Silence waited on her prediction. She raised the glass, +swung it round thrice, and spilt a little water. + +"I've thrown out a misfortune," she said. "A terrible misfortune," and +looked round for applause. + +"I am eternally obliged to you," said Barnaby. "Thanks!" But she +would not give up his glass. + +"There are strange things here," she said, clasping her hands, and +gazing into it with half-shut eyes. Barnaby reached over and captured +the glass. + +"We don't want her to reveal all our secrets, do we, Susan?" he said, +and saved the situation by drinking the secrets down. + +His presence of mind turned the laugh against Mélisande, whose +expression was a study. Ignoring public ridicule, she affected to +meditate on his disturbing action. + +"I wish I could remember what that portends," she said solemnly. "I +rather think it was fatal." + +But Barnaby refused to be overawed. He was in a mood of tearing gaiety +that Susan did not quite understand. She herself, although she knew +that it was absurd, had had a superstitious fear of that glass of +water.... + +"Let's go on to the ball," said the Duchess. + +In the general confusion the girl found herself on the stairs with +Mélisande, still ruffled. Somehow their glances met. + +"Barnaby would turn anything into a joke. He was always like that," +said she. "He hasn't any sense of decorum." + +"--And you witches," remarked Kilgour, who was close behind, "haven't a +sense of humour." + +The sorceress pursed her lips. + +"Was there anything--bad?" asked Susan. + +She was ashamed of the foolish impulse that made her ask. Mélisande +looked at her indulgently. But her disclaimer was too hasty to be +convincing. In a way, it was more disquieting than if she had +overwhelmed the sinner's wife with evil prognostications. + +"There was nothing in it. Nothing!" she said, but her voice lacked +conviction. + +"That's right. Don't frighten us," said Kilgour. + +Susan was not frightened. But she could not shake off an unaccountable +nervousness;--could not forget Mélisande's wild sayings.... Why was +she afraid of Rackham? + +It was odd that as soon as they came into the ballroom her eyes should +light on him. Everybody was arriving at once, jammed in under the +gallery;--and Rackham was pushing through the crowd to her side, and +she could not fly. + +"What is the matter?" said Barnaby. "Why, you're trembling?" + +The truth came out before she could stop herself, though she could not +explain it. + +"I am shy," she said. "--And I don't want to dance with your cousin." + +He did not scoff at her. He took her programme and scribbled his name +across it. + +"See," he said. "Whatever he asks you for, say you're dancing it with +me. How will that do? Fill it in with any of the others, of course, +just as you like; and let me know what I am booked for later." + +He moved on in the swaying throng, distracted by somebody signalling to +him, hailed on all sides, nodding to his friends. Other men were +surrounding Susan. She could smile at them now, although Rackham was +at her side. + +"They're just finishing number one," he said. "Will you give me number +two?" + +"I am dancing it with my husband." + +"Number three, then?" + +"I am dancing it with my husband." + +Another claimed her attention; she gave him a dance quickly. Kilgour, +who could not get near her, held up five fingers to her above the +bobbing heads in the crowd. She counted them gaily, putting down the +number. + +Rackham was still at her side, insisting, but her answer was the same. +He looked at her queerly. + +"You seem to be dancing everything, more or less, with your husband." + +Kitty Drake, floating in like a smoke wreath, put in her word. + +"A husband," she said sapiently, "is the only possible partner for a +frock like hers. _I_ always come to the Melton Ball in rags." + +But when Rackham had departed, she looked curiously at Susan. + +"You were rude to him," she whispered. "Was it the frock, or what? I +am safe." + +"I don't know," said Susan. "It is very unreasonable of me, but--I am +always a little frightened when he is near me." + +Kitty seemed to think that she understood. + +"Reason?" she said. "My good girl, I've known more women wrecked +because they were ashamed to give in to their frightened instincts than +I dare remember. Don't begin to reason! It's simply a machine for +making mistakes; it never mends them. Go and be happy. Go and dance +with your husband!" + +Barnaby had come to her, and there was pity as well as liking in +Kitty's little push. + +"Shall we begin?" he said, and his arm went round her as she swung out +with him on to the shining floor. Dimly she was aware of music, of +lights and people; an atmosphere of enchantment. + +"Tired?" he said, pausing. + +"Tired? Oh, no," she panted, as if he had asked her the strangest +question. + +"I didn't know you could ride," he said, "and I didn't know you danced. +I really know very little about you, Susan." + +They had stopped a minute near a ring of idlers who had drifted on to +the floor, and somebody caught up his words. + +"Have you never danced with her before, Barnaby?" + +"No," he said, and bent to gather her train himself, that the weight of +it should not tire her arm. + +"Do you hear that?" chuckled the man behind them. "Never rode with +her, never danced with her. What on earth did he find to do?" + +"Made love to her, of course." + +Susan felt his arm tighten round her as they whirled into the dizzy +spaces. + +"I've never made love to you, have I, Susan?" + +He was breathing quicker; her cheek almost touched his as he bent his +head; her pulses were beating in tune with his. In a sudden faintness +she shut her eyes. + +And then the music crashed into silence and she was leaning against a +pillar, stupidly watching the brilliant scene. There was a great buzz +of talking under the gallery, and Barnaby was turning to his friends. +She heard his voice now and then amidst the babel, but it was Kilgour +and Gregory Drake who were trying to amuse her, picking out the +celebrities, good and wicked, in that assembly of glittering dresses +and scarlet coats. + +"You'll notice," Kilgour was saying, "it's the older men who are +dancing, and the young 'uns are looking on. They've no stamina, the +lads! Do you see that woman like a tub, with hungry eyes?--She was a +beauty once, but when her admirers began to slink off she went in for +spirits--that awfully unpleasant kind that you can't absorb. She's +always calling 'em up and setting 'em on to tell tales about her +dearest friends." + +"Yes," said Gregory, "it's really more unhealthy to offend her now than +when she was an anarchist and used to spring little clicking machines +on you and offered to explain how they worked. She got into hot water +once, while it lasted, making herself a side-show at a bazaar. Some +foreign personage was attending, and a rumour started that she meant to +wind up her clock in earnest. It emptied the hall like winking. The +Board of Charitables were no end annoyed." + +"They say her fellow anarchists begged her to take her name off their +books. Said she brought 'em into contempt." + +"That wasn't why," said Gregory. "It was because she would bring Toby, +her mastiff, to all their meetings. He and Biff, the thing she carried +in her muff, used to scare 'em out of their lives." + +"Look at that shop window!" said Kilgour, as another woman, smothered +in diamonds, canted past. + +"American, isn't she?--Cummerbatch married her for her money, and of +course they're wretched. It never pays----" + +Susan was conscious that the speaker had checked himself, in his face a +ludicrous awkwardness. Had the world jumped to a similar conclusion +about her and Barnaby? Instinctively she turned her head. She wanted +to share the joke with him, to see his delighted appreciation;--but he +was not near. + +And he did not dance with her any more. The night dragged on, and one +man after another bent his sleek head and offered her his arm. All +Barnaby's friends were rallying to her flag. Still, in its turn, would +come a star in her card, a dance that found her waiting for a partner +who did not come. + +After one of these blanks she came face to face with him in the +Lancers. He was romping as violently as the rest, charging down the +room;--and as the chain of dancers burst it was his arm that kept her +from falling into a bank of pale tulips against the wall. + +"Wasn't the last dance ours?" he said. "I'm awfully sorry:--but you +are getting on all right, aren't you? Plenty of substitutes? I've +been watching them buzzing round you." + +She smiled at him bravely. How like life this dancing was ... meeting +and parting, and strange companions.... For the first and last time +she was linking arms with Julia. + +Later on she saw Rackham on his way to her. It was almost the first +time that evening that she was unsurrounded. She had felt him watching +her; awaiting his time to swoop. Barnaby had not been visible during +the last two dances, and this, alas! was one that was glorified with a +star. + +"Yes," said Rackham, before she could speak, "I know;--you are dancing +it with your husband." + +There was no anger in his voice; only a kind of sardonic amusement, as +if he could afford to forgive her for that rebuff. She looked vainly +for Barnaby. + +"As a matter of fact," said Rackham coolly, "he has delegated his +privilege to me." + +"I am tired," she said. It was true; very tired and forsaken. + +"Then we'll sit it out," said Rackham, no whit abashed. He carried his +point over her weariness; she wondered dully why she had been afraid of +him, and she was too sad to struggle. She let him take her up the +stairs into the far corner of the gallery, now deserted, and sat with +her arms on the rail, gazing absently on the flitting brightness that +mocked her wistful mood below. + +All at once she started. Her wandering thoughts were fixed. + +"What are you saying to me?" she cried. + +Rackham was very near her, his head bent, his voice low and passionate +in her ears. + +"What I have always wanted to say to you," he said. "You guessed it, +didn't you? You were a little afraid of me;--just a little. You've +been trying to put it off.... But don't you remember the first time we +met--and that afternoon down by the spinney, when I told you I was your +friend?" + +She began to shiver. His hand, shutting the idle fan, was imprisoning +hers as it clenched itself on her knee. + +"I was not listening to you!" she cried desperately. "I was not +thinking of you. How dare you?" + +"What were you thinking of then?" said Rackham. "Not of Barnaby, who +has gone back to his first love and forgotten that you exist." + +"He sent you to me," she said piteously. + +"Oh, that was a lie," said Rackham. "He didn't even trouble as much as +that." + +She had sprung to her feet and her face was as white as ashes. For how +long had this man been telling her that he loved her? She had been +deaf to him, had caught his words without understanding their import, +murmuring "Yes" to him, while her eyes and her heart were searching for +one figure to pass in the dizzy scene below. + +"You are mad," she said. + +"Mad if you like," said Rackham. "After all, I am Barnaby's cousin, +and it's probably in our blood. Look at him, still crazed over a woman +who jilted him years ago!" + +She flung up her head, compelled by a piteous instinct to play her part. + +"And I am Barnaby's wife," she said bravely. + +He looked at her fixedly, making no motion to let her pass him. + +"Are you?" he said. + +The band seemed to burst into clamour and die away; but they were all +dancing; there must be music still, although she could not hear +anything but these two syllables. She kept her eyes steady. Perhaps +he did not grasp the significance of his words. + +"You have insulted me enough," she said to him slowly. + +A wild eagerness lighted his face. + +"I'm not insulting you," he said. "I leave that to him.... I'm asking +you to be my wife, Susan. Let him go. Let him release himself. Leave +him to the woman from whom you can't keep him.--Come away with me,--and +marry me!" + +"I--cannot," she said. + +He had to fall back then and let her go. But he followed her down the +stairs. The light in his eyes flickered out, leaving a sullen +admiration. + +"Well," he said, "I warn you. I've a bit of a score to settle with +Barnaby." + +She turned on him. She had reached the bottom; her foot was on the +crimson carpet that lay under the gallery; a little way off a handful +of men were talking with their backs turned, hilarious at the climax of +a sporting tale. She looked at the dark face above her; her lips were +white now, her eyes were blazing. "Are you threatening--him?" she +cried, and the devil in Rackham smiled. + +She took a few rash steps, hardly knowing in what direction. + +"You needn't look for him here," said Rackham bitterly. "Don't let his +friends think you jealous." + +From where she stood she could see in at the open doorway of one of the +sitting-out rooms, a dim, mysterious haunt of palms, the chairs drawn +back in the shadow. Was not that Barnaby and a woman in a glittering +green dress, listening with her face uplifted--? + +Ah, what right had she to run to him?--One of the men standing about +under the gallery had looked round. She heard him mutter it was a +shame. What was a shame? Not anything that could be spoken or done to +her.... She threw up her head, walking straight on as if she were +walking in her sleep. The Duchess and Kitty Drake were together +half-way up the room; they moved down to meet her, exchanging looks. + +"My dear," said the Duchess solemnly, "you look fatigued." + +"I am tired," she said. + +"I thought so. Fagged out. You have danced too much. Major Willes--" + +She called a man to her side and sent him on an immediate errand. When +he was gone she returned to Susan. + +"I've sent somebody to fetch your husband," she said. "He ought to +take more care of you. I shall scold him." + +"Oh, don't!" she cried faintly, but her champions took no notice; and +soon Barnaby himself came swinging along the room. + +"Barnaby," said the Duchess, "you ought to be ashamed of yourself. +Take your wife up to supper." + +The first rush was over upstairs in the supper-room, and Barnaby found +a corner. She sat with him at a little round table behind a tall plant +that shut off the world with its wide green fronds, some sheltering +exotic. And he was pouring out champagne, a drink she hated. She put +her hand over the top of the glass, and he caught it and lifted it off, +holding it in his while he poured on unchecked. + +"It's not good stuff,--but it's good for you. Drink!" he said. + +He seemed to be laughing at her from an immeasurable distance; his +prescription had made her dizzy. + +"It will go off in a minute; you wanted it badly," he was saying, in a +voice that sounded far away and unlike his own. + +"It has gone to my head," she said, appealing to him. "I'm afraid I +shall say something silly. Don't let me. Don't let me talk....'" + +"Why not? There is nobody listening," he was saying, encouraging her; +amused. + +And Susan heard her own voice. Her head was spinning; she was talking +against her will. + +"Why did you never come back and dance with me?" she was asking. It +seemed to her that there was a long pause, and then his answer came, +low and close. + +"I did not dare," he said. + +"Oh," she said piteously;--no, not she, but the imprudent, tired girl +whose head was giddy, and who did not know what she said. "Oh,--how +funny!" + +Perhaps he was throwing dust in people's eyes,--trying to blind them to +his fluttering, like a burnt moth, round Julia. If they saw him +sitting up here in a corner with her, and she was happy, they would +think there was nothing in it. He must be trying to make her laugh. +Well, she must help him. She could say something funny too. + +"There's a man downstairs," she told him, "who asked me to marry him." + +"What?" said Barnaby. He started as if he had been shot. + +"He said he loved me," she repeated. "He wished me to go away and +release you and marry him." + +"Who?" + +"You were with the only woman you ever cared for. That was what he +said. I had nobody to keep him away from me...." + +"Oh, I was with the woman I cared for, was I?" he said. "And who the +devil is it wants horsewhipping when I get at him?" + +The deadly calm in his voice arrested her. What had she said to him, +babbling in her unhappiness? Alarm steadied her; the dizziness was +passing. + +"I will not tell you," she said, forgetting how vainly she had looked +for him to shield her. + +His eyes were blue as steel. She had never seen him angry until +to-night. + +"I'll make you," he said. + +They stared at each other a minute, her eyes as unflinching as his were +hard. Across the silly little supper table with its glass and silver, +its green, gold-tipped bottles, and its tumbled flowers, he leaned and +gripped her hands. + +"Did you tell him you are not my wife?" he said. + +There was a whiff of scent in their neighbourhood; the great green +fronds spreading behind him were rudely stirred. A passing couple must +have brushed against that screen on their way to the stairs. A burst +of merriment came from the upper end of the room. But these two were +as much alone as if it had been a desert. + +So that was why he was angry. He believed that she had broken faith.... + +"I told him nothing," she said. + +Barnaby took a long breath. She felt his grip relax. + +"You are a good girl," he said. "You wouldn't break your promise. I +suppose I've no right to order you:--I'll find him out for myself. +Tell me one thing, and we'll let it go--" + +She waited. There had been something very bitter to her in his relief. +All he asked of her was to keep the secret until he was tired of the +joke.... + +"Susan," he said. "Did you want to tell him?" + +What did that matter to him? Supposing she had--wanted? Supposing she +would have given worlds to exchange her difficult post for one so +different, so secure?--Her cheek burned. + +"I would sooner have died," she said. + + * * * * * + +Rackham stood under the gallery in a black mood, watching the Duchess +send her messenger to hunt out the missing husband. He saw Julia, +bereft of her cavalier, pausing uncertainly; and a satiric impulse +moved him to join her. + +"Come and have supper with me," he said. + +"I am engaged to Barnaby," she said, a little defiantly. + +"They've sent him up with his wife," he retorted, and his mocking tone +seemed to please her. She submitted and pressed his arm. + +"Poor Barnaby!" she said. "It's an awful muddle." + +She was looking very lovely and pathetic. The man who had once been +entangled a little way in her toils himself and, having failed to +succumb, was naturally inclined to despise her, admired her pose. It +was hardly to be wondered at if Barnaby, who had been mad about her +once, should be incapable of resisting the allurement of these dark +eyes, so deep and so reproachful. He could not help speculating how +far she was in earnest, and how far a hurt vanity inspired her. +Curiosity piqued him. + +"I understand," he said gravely, as they passed out and began to climb +to the supper-room. It amused him to feel that her confidential +attitude, her claim on his sympathy, was a subtle intimation that he +had been the unlucky cause of the fatal misunderstanding, and must +therefore be kind to her. All at once he had a perverse inclination to +cast himself in the scale again. Why not? It would be a bitter joke +on Barnaby, and it suited his savage humour. + +"I like your dress," he said. His change of tone surprised her. She +glanced at him swiftly, half-turning as she mounted, her green garments +rippling as she lifted her train on one smooth arm, displaying a whirl +of skirts and one little green sequin slipper. "Ah," she said, "down +below they've been reviling me for a mermaid, and complaining bitterly +of my tail." + +"And so," said Rackham, "the little slipper is betrayed, to dispel the +illusion?" + +"Perhaps," said Julia. She used, at one time, to smile up in his face +like that.... A vindictive sense of his power possessed him, +flattering him on this night of defeat. In his heart he was still +fiercely worshipping the pale girl who had flouted him, clinging +obstinately--Oh, she was a fool, and so was Barnaby;--and the irony of +it was that he had only to lift his finger--! + +"We'll find a place by ourselves," he said, confidentially, passing +into the room. Inside it he took a step or two, glancing about him. +There were vacant seats on the right, but the tables had a battered +air. Farther down, perhaps--; yes, farther down, near the wall. He +turned back to look for his partner, and the sight of her face amazed +him. With a promptitude that surprised himself he pulled her back, and +got her outside the room. Was it possible that he had been mistaken in +her, or could a woman push affectation as far as that? + +She broke into a kind of gasping exclamation that was not intelligible +at first, and he stared at her in limitless amazement. + +"Oh, poor Barnaby, oh, poor Barnaby!" she repeated. There was a ring +of triumph in her incoherent voice. She had gone mad, he fancied. + +"Hush!" he said. "They'll hear you." + +He was glad he had shut that door, and thankful there was not a soul on +the stairs. + +"I was right!" she said, "I was right.... I knew it! You were there +when she came here first as his widow, and I told his mother to her +face it was a wicked plot!" + +"Julia," said Rackham, "you don't know what you are saying." + +She controlled herself a little. He held her wrist. + +"Didn't you see them in there?" she asked. "Didn't you hear him?" + +"If you mean Barnaby," he said, "I was looking out for our places. I +didn't notice whereabouts they were till you clutched at me. They +didn't see us at all." + +"I heard him," she said, in the same wild key of triumph. "I heard his +own words.--He said she was not his wife." + +"Hush!" said Rackham vehemently, and then, more slowly--"Julia, are you +sure of that?" + +She tried to imitate him, to whisper, but she was too excited. + +"Sure!" she said, laughing hysterically. "I know his voice so well. +There was a green plant between us----" + +"Wait," said Rackham. "There's somebody coming. We'll go down. Damn! +there are people everywhere--! Get a shawl, and we'll go out into the +street." + +Julia resisted him. + +"Why are you dragging me away?" she rebelled. "You can't keep me +quiet. Think how I've been treated! I could scream it to all the +world!" + +A woman could not have silenced her, but her emotional nature yielded +finally to the rough coaxing of a man. He almost swung her downstairs +into the draughty passage and, raiding the ladies' cloakroom, snatched +up the first wrap that lay to his hand. + +A chill wind blew up the steps, but there was still a persistent crew +of gazers loitering in the street below. Rackham led her past, and +they strolled a little way into the darkness, lighted at intervals by a +twinkling lamp. There was no danger there of her making scenes. + +"Now," he said. "Now, Julia--!" + +"They shall all hear the truth!" she cried. She hung on his arm, +gesticulating. + +"You wouldn't betray him?" said Rackham, sounding her. + +"Him?" she said. "Poor Barnaby! He and I are the victims. Don't you +understand yet? When she thought he was dead his mother--just to crush +me, just to humble me in the dust!--hired this creature. Don't you +remember how she sprung her on us? Who had heard of a marriage? Oh, +it was a judgment on her when he came home!" + +"She'd hardly look at the case in that light," he said. But Julia was +impervious to irony. + +"He should have considered me first," she said. "Why do men always +sacrifice the one they love best? It's a kind of cruel unselfishness. +I was his dearest, a part of himself, and so--and so I'm to bear this +trial--! But he might have trusted _me_!" + +She was either laughing or sobbing, he was not sure which; the cloak +that muffled her hid her face; but her voice raged on, half furious, +half triumphant. + +"Of course, she's blackmailing him," she said. "That wretch has got +him in the hollow of her hand! If he disowned her it would all come +out, and it would disgrace his mother. He was always quixotic. And so +he is temporizing till he can bribe her to disappear. But Lady +Henrietta has no claim on my forbearance!" + +She had to pause for breath, and he managed to get in his word. + +"I am going to advise you," he said, "to keep quiet over this." + +They had come to the end of the street, and were walking back. A +dazzle of lights in the distance marked the Corn Exchange. A motor +whirred past, its lamps sending a brief glare that was like a +searchlight. Already a few were leaving. + +"Why?" she said, staring at him. + +"You'll be a fool if you talk," he said. "If Barnaby is holding his +tongue for his mother's sake, is it likely he'll give way? And you +have no proofs. Whatever you say, he'll deny it. He mightn't forgive +you, either. Be sensible.... Wait a bit, and I'll make inquiries." + +It struck her then as odd that he had accepted her words himself, +without argument, with no incredulous opposition, such as she was +beginning to realize must fall to her lot if she published her tale +abroad. + +"Did you know from the first?" she cried. + +"No," said Rackham, "I didn't know. But I guessed." + +They had nearly reached the steps, and he slackened, regarding her +narrowly; but already she was subdued. It was characteristic of her +that she had never seen his admiration for the impostor. Vast as her +imagination was, it was blinded by centring on herself. + +"And you'll help me? You are on my side?" she said. + +He knew then that he had prevailed. + +"As long as you are wise," he said. They went up the steps together. + +"I had better find my party," she said hurriedly. "I want to go home. +Poor Barnaby!--I can't bear to meet him. I am too agitated." + + +Rackham took back the borrowed cloak and strolled along the passage, in +no hurry to return to the ballroom. People were passing in and out; +some of them were saying good-night, and one pair were wrangling on +their way to the door. + +"Who was the man you were flirting with in the street?" said the lover +in an angry stutter. The lady scoffed. + +"What a story!" + +"My brother saw you go out. He came up and chaffed me." + +"Your brother is a donkey. It must have been someone else." + +"I tell you he recognized you by that chiffon fal-lal you wear!" + +Rackham stood on one side. Let them fight it out.... Then his mouth +hardened. What was he going to do? He had managed to prevent Julia +from spoiling it all, and as long as he could keep her quiet the cards +were in his hands. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +"I won't let you go home," said the Duchess. "Barnaby can do as he +likes, but you're too tired to mind sleeping in a cupboard." + +She held Susan firmly by the arm as she spoke; she had motives. +Barnaby deserved to be punished; his conduct with Julia had really been +scandalous. But a worn-out girl, a wisp of white satin, was no match +for a naughty husband. She would burst into tears and forgive him. +Let Barnaby go home by himself, feeling guilty, and brood upon his +unkindness. _She_ would tell Susan what to do to him in the morning. + +With rough kindness she hustled the girl away with her, and having +collected her party, ordered them to bed. + +"Because," she said, "until some of you are disposed of I can't tell +what to do with the others, and I want to know if there are beds enough +to go round." + +Susan was the first to be bundled into her attic, and lay wearily +listening to a far-off commotion. When at last the household had +settled down there was a fresh disturbance, and the elder of the two +foreign maids mounted, carrying an armful of pillows. + +The Duchess herself followed, to excuse the indicated invasion. She +was already in her dressing-gown. The maid set up a chair bed that had +stood, doubled up, in the corner, and was sent out of the room for a +minute. + +"I've come to apologize," said the Duchess, "for pitchforking a +stranger into your room like this; but I'm sorry for the woman. You +are the only one of them I can depend on not to be horrid to her." + +She looked round, measuring the space that was to be shared. "I hope," +she said, "you won't bump into each other. The truth is, I have a +shocking custom of sticking my head out of the window when something is +going on outside; and just as I was getting into bed I heard a +tremendous buzzing. Everybody must have started. If this was +somebody's motor gone wrong, I supposed I ought to offer my +hospitality. And it was. The chauffeur was grovelling; a man I knew +was storming at him; and a woman wringing her hands on the pavement. I +knew her too, perfectly, and she had no business in that man's car." + +She stopped to listen. + +"I am not," she said, "a universal mender. If people I don't +particularly care about are jumping out of frying-pans, I don't preach +at them eternal fire. But this fool of a woman had chosen to bolt +under my very nose. Providence had cast her upon my doorstep. So I +took the hint. Not being a heathen I really had to." + +The confidential maid was ascending with someone strange to the place, +who stumbled and chattered in halting French. + +"I poked my head farther out," said the Duchess, "and shouted--'Is that +you, Lady Cummerbatch? Have you had a breakdown?' and it was worth it +to see her jump. I don't in the least know what she answered; it +sounded hysterical. 'Well,' I said, 'leave your husband to tinker up +the machine; it will probably take him hours. I can put you up.'" + +"Her husband?" said Susan, puzzled. + +"Tact, my child, tact! I sent Fifine down to fetch her, and kept my +eye on him. She followed Fifine into the house like a lamb." + +She wrapped her dressing-gown closer round her, and prepared to depart. + +"I couldn't keep her in my room," she said; "I've two girls camping on +the floor. Besides, she would begin confessing everything, and I am +certain that I should smack her. Pretend that you are asleep. If she +cries, don't notice. Good night, my child." + +She patted Susan on the head, looking as if she would have kissed her, +but not being accustomed to caresses, did not quite know how. + +Then she wheeled round to receive the late visitor, holding up her +finger, and crying--"Hush!" very loud. + +Susan lay with her face turned from the light and her eyes shut, as she +had been bidden. She heard Fifine, after some careful whispering, +close the door and make her way down; she heard a smothered sobbing +from the improvised bed that almost blocked the chamber;--and then she +heard a stealthy noise in the room, and opened her eyes. On the wall +she could see the shadow of a person struggling into her clothes, and +evidently about to fly. Some instinct made the girl spring up and +fling herself against the door. + +"Oh! Oh!" said the strange woman, tottering. "Let me out!" + +Susan looked her in the face. + +"If you want to go," she said, "I will call the Duchess." + +The stranger began to cry. She was thin and fair, with a faded skin +and unhappy eyes, outstared by a blaze of jewels. Susan remembered +seeing her at the ball. Kilgour had called her the Shop Window. + +"He's waiting for me. I must go with him," she cried, worked up to a +pitch of agitation that deprived her of self-control. + +"You shall not," the girl said. + +They both heard an engine vibrating far down below. The woman flew to +the window. And then the Duchess's strident voice struck into the +night from her own window underneath. + +"So glad the motor is working. Don't trouble about your wife, Sir +Richard. She's safely tucked up in bed." + +Then a furious backing and grinding, as the car started and rushed away +into the darkness, baulked of a passenger. + +Susan retired sedately into bed, since it was no longer necessary to +guard the door. The woman began to strip off her jewels, that she had +put on again, anyhow,--flinging them in a heap on the table. + +"Absurd, isn't it?" she said, in a high, unnatural key, "wearing all +these.... but I wasn't going to leave them behind." + +The girl said nothing; she was embarrassed. + +"The Duchess took him for Dicky," the prisoner rambled on. Perhaps she +was afraid of silence. "_You_ guessed the truth. I saw you at the +ball to-night. They were all talking about you, and I liked your +diamonds. Did _your_ husband marry you for your money?" + +Susan drew a sharp breath. Ah, this woman was more to be pitied than +she, who had brought sorrow upon herself. + +"Oh, you poor thing!" she said softly, sitting up in bed and clasping +her hands round her knees. + +Lady Cummerbatch was one of those lucky women who find solace in +lamentation. They are the fortunate ones, whose bitterness of heart +can be dissipated in bitter speech. + +"I've heard," she went on, too distracted about her own plight to be +conscious of the rank impertinence of which she was being guilty. +"I've heard all about your husband. He's the wild Barnaby Hill who was +jilted by an Irishwoman and disappeared and married abroad to vex her, +and then turned up after his people thought him dead. You're an +American too, though you are not my kind. They seem fond of you here; +they all take your part;--but what difference does it make? Aren't we +two miserable women?" + +She began to weep noisily, and then to shiver. Getting into bed, she +pulled her fur cloak over her shoulders, and sat hunched up, staring at +the light. + +"Do you mind my not putting out the candle?" she said. "I can't bear +to lie worrying in the dark. If that auto hadn't stuck, and the +Duchess hadn't jumped me when I got out to see what was the matter, I'd +have been out of my misery.... I said to Sir Richard once--'You +married me for my money,' and he laughed in my face and said--'My good +young woman, you had an equivalent--you married me for my title.' And +then I just screamed, 'I married you for your title! Oh, yes, I +married you for your title!' till he banged himself out of the house." + +"But if that was not true----" said Susan. + +"True? It was all true," she sobbed. "The pity was it didn't keep +true. When I married that man I couldn't have told you if his eyes +were grey or green. But there--! It wears off with them and it wears +on with us." + +In her lamentation she continued to identify herself with her +compatriot; their common misfortune, as she conceived it, was mixed up +in her bewailing. + +"Why don't you try it, like me?" she said. "Why don't you run away +from him? If you cry and stamp and bluster it makes them vain, but +when they've lost you outright they miss you.... Oh, it's awful to +live with a man and watch him getting impatient because you are in his +way and he's tied to you;--to see him looking hard at you, thinking how +could he have paid the price! He tried to be civil at first, but his +face soon taught me.... I wonder how long were you deceived?" + +"I was never deceived," said Susan, hardly knowing she had uttered that +sigh aloud. Her arms were round the other woman now; a poor wretch who +had once been happy. Ah, with what pain would she not have gladly +purchased some mirage of happiness, some illusion that she was his ... +and beloved ... for half an hour! + +The haggard butterfly who had been cursed with riches dropped her voice +from its wailing tune to a whisper. + +"I'm going to France to-morrow," she said. "He won't like that. It +will be the same as striking him in the face. He to turn from me to +other women who had no money to give him--! When a man sees that what +he has tossed in the gutter is precious to another man, when he sees +how the other man picks it up,--he feels cheated. It hits him harder +than if you had killed yourself. I thought of _that_ first. But don't +you do it! I knew just how he'd say--'Mad! quite mad!' and bury me and +forget me. He'll never lose sight of it if I go away like this--" and +her voice rose high--"_that_ will let him know how I hate him!" + +But when her confidences had tired her out, and she loosed her clasp of +Susan, pulling up the quilt and sinking into a wearied slumber,--when +the girl lay gazing alone at a light that was burning dim;--there was a +cry in the silence. + +"I've come back, Dicky! Dicky, let me in--! I've come back." + +It was the woman who hated her husband, calling to him in her sleep. + + * * * * * + +Susan awakened in the morning with music in her ears. Dreaming, she +danced with Barnaby, and his arm was round her, his breath quick on her +cheek, his face not ... kind. + +And as the wild illumination of a dream sometimes teaches what a +stumbling consciousness dare not know, so the girl awoke trembling. + +But that dream of all dreams was madness. + +Into her waking mind came the thought of Rackham, the man who had said +he loved her. Had she not always been ill at ease with him, and what +was that but a warning instinct, divining, shrinking from the peril in +a man's admiration? But Barnaby and she had been such good comrades.... + +Quaint incidents crowded on her, scenes in the hunting field, Sunday +afternoons at the stables,--the day he had cut his finger and she had +run to him to bind it up;--the day he had told her the brim of her +riding hat was too narrow, and made her try on another that satisfied +his inspection.... Oh, they had honourably tried not to haunt each +other, but all the same.... Dear and safe memories; they blotted out +last night. + +She raised herself on her elbow and looked across the room at the +runaway. + +So a woman could sleep whom the casual kindness of an acquaintance had +saved from shipwreck; so a woman could sleep who had poured out her +soul to a stranger. + +Someone was tapping at the door. It was late. Ten, eleven, ah, quite +that; and Monsieur had come for Madame and brought her clothes. And +Miladi said Madame was to dress in her room, as one was so cramped up +here. + +The maid waited discreetly at the door, her sharp, foreign eyes taking +in everything, the other woman huddled up in bed, her clothes flung all +over the floor, her gems scattered recklessly on the table. + +Susan slipped on the dressing-gown that had been brought her, and was +following, Fifine going down in front as a picket, to see that the +coast was clear; when she heard her neighbour calling. Lady +Cummerbatch was sitting up in bed. + +"I made a fool of myself last night, didn't I?" she said. "Why didn't +you smother me with my pillow? Don't be afraid, I'm as wise as an old +hen this morning." She pulled the girl close enough to kiss. "You are +a dear; you are a dear!" she cried. + +Stretching out her arm to the dressing-table, she caught up something +from its disordered glitter, squeezing it into Susan's hand. + +"Keep it," she said. "I know you've heaps of your own. I saw them +last night. But I want you to have something to remember me by. I can +do nothing for anybody but give them things.... Do! Please me! I'd +have thrown myself out of that window if you hadn't been kind to me." + +The girl looked doubtfully at the diamond star that had been thrust +upon her. + +"If you don't care to wear anything I've worn," said the woman, "put it +by. Who knows? Some day you may be glad to have it. If it does come +from a worthless creature, it's fit to sell. I've heard of rich women +whose husbands ruined them, and who had to pawn their jewels.... How +do we know what will happen to you and me?" + +Susan went down the irregular flight of stairs. The Duchess was +waiting in her room for a word. + +"Good morning, my child," she said. "Your husband has very properly +come to fetch you. I should advise you to let him off lightly about +last night." + +The maid had gone out of the room. + +"About----?" faltered Susan. + +"Philandering with Julia. I believe in severity, of course," said the +Duchess bluntly, "but as a matter of fact Kitty and I have been at him +like early birds. Told him what we thought of him, and so forth. +Don't look so sorry. It's done him good, and you can descend upon him +like a forgiving saint." + +"I have nothing to forgive him," the girl protested. "Oh, I wish you +would not say that." + +The Duchess smiled benevolently at her stammering haste. She fancied +she understood. + +"I quite forgot," she said, "to ask after that idiot upstairs. +_There's_ a woman who tried to enrage her husband into paying her more +attention by making herself conspicuous with another man. Bad policy, +my child. It makes the man think less of her, though it may alarm his +possessive instinct;--and, of course, if anybody stole your old coat +you'd feel inclined to knock him down:--but that wouldn't make you +believe it was as good as new. No, no, it's a fallacious notion. +However, we're talking of this person. I'd be sorry for her feelings +if I didn't think the shock of being stopped on the brink would bring +her to her senses. We are very good-natured among ourselves, but _she_ +wouldn't find it easy to live it down. She isn't one of us." + +She smiled encouragingly at the girl, who was wrapped in her own +dressing-gown, a thick masculine garment that sat oddly on her slimness. + +"People think," she said, "that we hunting people are a lawless band. +They think they can come and do as they like in Melton. Just because +we have a sporting sense of loyalty to each other, and stick to our +friends when they need us. If you or Barnaby, for example, did +anything outrageous, we'd scold you a little and let it drop. But we +don't do it with an outsider.... He's brought your habit. Get into +your things, my dear." + + +Barnaby nodded to her cheerfully as she came into the breakfast room. +He was sitting on the window seat, and the rest of them were at +breakfast. Whether or no they had been attacking him, he did not look +cast down. + +"Well, how are you?" he said. "Good girl, you are coming hunting. I +brought everything, didn't I? They nearly left out your boots." + +"Look out and see who that is passing," said the Duchess. Someone was +cracking a whip below. He flung up the window, and she came round +herself. + +"What's the matter?" she said. "Is it a serenade, or do you want some +coffee?" + +A man with a long nose and a grizzling moustache had halted on his way +up the street. Two or three others had left him and were trotting on. + +"Have you heard the latest?" he said. "Richard Cummerbatch is drawing +all the covers like a raging maniac, roaring for his wife. Her party +went back in two cars from the ball last night, and each lot thought +she had gone in the other. It appears she's bolted." + +"Upon my word," said the Duchess, "if you are going to shout scandal at +the top of your voice I shall have to put up my shutters. She is just +over your head, Major. She had nowhere to go, since her party went off +without her; so I took her in." + +"Hey? What?" he said, looking up as quickly as if the lady were a +chimney-pot that might fall on him. "--Keep still, horse! You don't +say so?" + +His face was blank for an instant, but he soon recovered from his +disappointment. His well of gossip had not run dry. + +Cocking his head on one side like a mischievous old bird, he began on +another tack. + +"Well," he said, "if you're so rough on scandal, you'll have to keep +our friend Barnaby in order. What does his poor little American wife +say to his goings-on?" + +There was an awful pause in the room above. + +"Susan," said Barnaby, "he's as deaf as a post. Put your head out and +tell him as loud as you can what you think of me." + +Somebody began to laugh; the rest followed; and there was no more +awkwardness; his presence of mind had saved the situation. As he +leaned out of the window with his hand on Susan's shoulder the Major's +face was a study. Incontinently he fled. + +"There!" said Barnaby, "we have routed the enemy. Let's get on our +horses and pursue him. Hullo, who are these? A whole tribe without +one sound horse among them." + +The Duchess started back. + +"Don't tell me it is my friend Wickes," she said. "I promised him +weeks ago I'd beat up a little talent for his concert to-night, and I +have never done it. For heaven's sake, somebody, volunteer! Is there +a woman here who can sing in tune?" + +"Do you sing, Susan?" said Barnaby. + +"Oh, the man's affectation! Does she or does she not?" + +She did not know what impelled her. Perhaps his carelessness; his +unshaken attitude of amusement at a position that was--to him--so +absurd. + +"I could act something, perhaps," she said. The Duchess jumped at her +offer. + +"Booked!" she declared. "Stop that man clattering past, and tell him I +want him to sing _John Peel_. And, Cherry, you'll do for a comic song. +You're men, and it doesn't matter about your voices, so long as you +wear red coats." + +The young man she was ordering pushed away his cup with an injured air. +A murmur of--"Delighted, I'm sure. Delighted!" floated up from the +street. + +"You know I have only one song," he said, "and that is--_The Broken +Heart_." + +"Well," she said unfeelingly, "you can make it comic." + +"Are you coming?" said Barnaby. He was waiting; some of them had +already started. The girl caught up her gloves and whip. + +"Good-bye, all of you," said the Duchess. "I beg you'll remember your +obligations. Barnaby, the thing is at eight. Call down to _John Peel_ +and tell him.... Whatever you do, don't let my performer come to any +harm." + +"I will not quit her side for a moment," he promised, and the Duchess +shook her head at him as they ran downstairs. + +He was laughing as he put her up in the saddle. + +"It appears you don't know how to manage a husband," he said. "Don't +look so sorrowful. _I_ don't mind them.--And the general public is +anxious to lend a hand." + +They rode soberly side by side, over the noisy cobbles, down to the low +white bridge thronged with pedestrians, threading their way amidst the +stream that was turning in at the gates farther on to the right. + +"We'll keep on, shall we?" said Barnaby. "Hounds will be moving +directly, and there'll be a fearful crowd getting out of the Park." + +So they held on between the lines of townsfolk and, turning upward, +fell in with a cluster of horsemen on the watch, loitering on the hill. + +"Awful bore, meeting in the town like this," said one of these +peevishly. His horse was eyeing a perambulator strangely, and there +was no space for antics. "Why do the Quorn do it?" + +"Oh, it pleases the multitude." + +There was a roar down below, and a scuffling noise as of hundreds +running. Above the bobbing heads passed a glimpse of scarlet, as a +whip issued from the green gates, clearing a way for hounds that were +hidden from view in the middle of the throng. Barnaby turned his horse +round. + +"Come on," he said. "We'll wait for them out of the town. I suppose +it's the customary pilgrimage? Gartree Hill." + +Behind them, louder and louder, drowning the tumult, came the +quickening tramp of horses. Their own animals grew excited. + +"Sit him tight!" said Barnaby. Her horse had nearly bucked into the +last lamp-post at the top of the hill. He would not wait peaceably at +the corner, so she took him a few yards farther on, straight over the +brow, where the way was not street, but road, looking down upon open +country. + +"Hullo!" said Barnaby. + +The fields that spread underneath were bare and wind-swept; there was +no sign of life in them. But what was that brownish dab on the right? +Incredulously he watched it travelling up the furrow;--and, convinced, +let out a wild yell that made their own horses jump. + +"It's a fox!" he said. "It's a fox. Keep your eye on him, Susan, +while I fetch them up." + +He galloped back, waving his hat to hurry the startled host. The +huntsman came swiftly over the hill, and a glance assured him; he +touched his horn. In half a minute he and his hounds were scouring +over the fields, and the riders who had been at the front were jumping +out of the road. + +"They've found. They are running!" + +The cry was flung from lip to lip along the bewildered ranks that had +closed up in expectation of the long jog to cover. A minute more and +the crowd had burst like a scattered wave, far and wide. + +Down the slope; up a rise; in and out of a lane defended by straggling +blackthorn; dipping over the skyline; the pack was gone. Only the +quickest could live with them, only the first away had a chance of +keeping up in the run. They were just a handful as they landed over a +stake-and-bound into a rolling pasture, a great rough waste where the +ridges rose up like billows, crosswise, submerging the horses that were +shortening in their stride. + +"Good for the liver!" groaned Kilgour, as he rocked up and down. "But +what a sell for the crafty ones waiting on Gartree Hill!" + +"They'll cut in with us at Great Dalby," said Barnaby, flinging a +glance that side. The pack hung to the left, still flying. + +"Not much!" said Kilgour. "D'you suppose the fox is stopping with +Lydia Measures for a bottle of ginger beer?--What did I tell you? +There they go, wide of the village, over the Kirby lane----" + +He broke off his ejaculations, pointing triumphantly with his whip, +pushing on. A man of his build could not afford to lag behind, unlike +those light-weights who could lie by and then come like a whirlwind and +make it up. He must keep plodding on. But he took no shame to diverge +suddenly to a gate. Let the young 'uns surmount that rasper. + +On the high ground above a breathless horde struck in. Rumour, or the +wind, or some saving instinct had warned them; they had come at a +breakneck pace from their shivering watch elsewhere. + +Susan, riding her hardest, with her chin up and rapture on her face, +laughed as she heard the frantic thudding of that pursuit. + +"They've missed a bit," cried Barnaby at her shoulder. Her horse was +faster than his, but was tiring. She was glad to steady him as the +pack ran into a strip of trees. + +"What a scent!" said Barnaby. "Hark at them! They're sticking to +him;--they're driving him up the Pastures!" + +He swung round in his saddle, still keeping on. The rearguard, no +longer in desperation, were trooping contentedly down the road. + +"They'll get left," he said. "They reckon on losing him. Silly asses, +they're lighting their cigarettes!" + +Slower, but steadily, hounds were running up the wood. Their cry +increased in volume, vociferous, echoing in the trees. It sounded a +hundred times louder than in the open. And this time there was no +changing foxes; they drove him too hard. Out he went at the top, and +had no time to twist and turn in again; they were on his heels. Beyond +was a steep drop into a village, and then a long struggle, and another +drop to a ford. As the last of them were splashing through the water, +the first of them were swinging out of their saddles and turning their +horses' heads to the wind. They had run to Baggrave, and killed their +fox in the Park. + +"Three cheers for Barnaby and his outlier," said Kilgour. "That was no +poultry-snatcher, but a real beetle-fed warrior. What the dickens +shall we do next?" + +"Oh, get up in a tree, somebody, like Sister Anne; and rake the horizon +for second horses!" + +Susan knew that voice. It was Rackham. + +"Get up yourself," said Kilgour. "Your history isn't sound. _I_ don't +trust my weight on anything but a watch-tower." + +Susan had turned away her face; she did not want to have to acknowledge +Rackham, although he had no shame in approaching her. Nervously she +plunged into a rapid argument with Kilgour, whose broad and comfortable +presence was a kind of buckler. But through it all she was conscious +of him, she heard his voice. He and Barnaby were arranging something +about a horse. She did not catch the drift of it, but Rackham turned +to her pointedly and asked her opinion. + +"I wasn't listening," she said. His glance was penetrating; she could +not escape it, and recollection burnt in her cheek. She heard Barnaby +whistle suddenly to himself. + +Hounds were moving at last, not hurrying, but drifting across the park, +searching as they went; and second horsemen were springing up out of +nowhere. Those who were lucky were changing horses. Already it was +far on in the afternoon. + +"That's the worst of beginning so late," said Kilgour. "The day's gone +before you know it. And here we've been dawdling, munching.... Now +we'll just get away with the twilight after dodging backwards and +forwards for an hour or two between the Prince of Wales's and Barkby +Holt." + +"Shut up, ill prophet!" said Barnaby, as they gathered close in to the +cover-side. Already there was a whimper. + +But it was late before the prophesied shilly-shallying came to its +appointed end, and those who had resisted the false alarms, sticking +patiently on guard at a windy corner, saw a fox break at last. A +misleading holloa had drawn off the field; they were massing on the +other side, out of sight, out of hearing in the rising wind that +carried away with it the warning note of the horn. And hounds were +slipping out like lightning. + +"Come on!" said Barnaby. This time there was no mistake. + +It didn't matter that there was a rival shout behind the dense thicket. +Let those who liked it exclaim that the pack was divided, and miss a +run to hang skirmishing for ever and ever about the Holt.... They had +a fox away, and at least half the hounds were on him as he dipped the +rise and went spinning into the infinite. Just a handful of riders +they were, but high-hearted, as they turned their faces towards the dim +red line of the sinking sun. + +Miles and miles they seemed to go swinging on. Behind a grey church, +round a silent village, and under a rustling wood. The wind was fresh +with the breath of twilight; its withering blast died down with that +last stinging gust of rain. And hounds were still running as swift as +shadows, flickering far and fast. + +One by one the rest of them had fallen back; had steadied their +faltering horses and listened, beaten. Susan could hardly see the +fences as they came up, darker and darker against the sky. But her +horse rushed at them gallantly, and she had Barnaby to follow. Hounds +were invisible now, but near; their cry was fierce behind that clump of +trees, impenetrable but for one glimmering gap of light. + +"They're running him still!" called Barnaby, plunging in. + +His voice was all she wanted. She could not ask more of Heaven than +this one gallop; and all her life she would remember that she had +ridden it out with him.... + +They had to ride warily through the trees, feeling their way, trusting +in their horses. Here the path was deep and boggy, there water +trickled, and the boughs hung low, swishing against them as they went +by. Birds whirred restlessly in the creaking branches, and an owl flew +shrieking in front of them. When they emerged from that eerie passage +everything had grown weird and strange in the cheating dusk. + +"That's the horn," said Barnaby. "He's calling them off. Doesn't it +sound unearthly?--There they are. Listen.... Listen.... They're +running him in the dark!" + +Far away on the hillside a light twinkled suddenly, turning the +twilight land into darkness as the first star makes it night in the sky. + +Barnaby laughed. "That was a hunt!" he said. "Hark! he's stopped +them. We'll have to find our way out of this. Why, we can't see each +other's faces.... Let's keep on a bit up this hedge-side, and perhaps +we'll get into a bridle-road." + +He went first, striking into a kind of track. + +"There should be a gate in the corner," he said. "Better let your +horse get his head down and smell out the rabbit-holes. We're like the +babes in the wood, aren't we? Mind that grip!--Where are you?" + +The gate was there. They passed through it, and on the other side was +a sign-post. Barnaby struck a match, standing up in his stirrups to +peer at the moss-stained board. + +"I'm afraid," he said, "we'll be late for that concert. Unless we can +strike Kilgour's habitation and get him to send us on. Shall we try +for it? We're--oh, never mind where we are; it's the end of the world, +anyhow. Are you tired to death?" + +He turned round with the match in his fingers, and looked at her, but +it had burnt down; he dropped it, and reaching out, caught her hand, +swinging it in his as their horses stumbled on side by side. + +"What a cold little hand!" he said, but his grip was warming it through +the leather.... + +The end of the world.... He had used the word so lightly, but it +called her back to reason. Another day was over. And perhaps +to-morrow the world might end. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +The Duchess and her friend Wickes were a trifle anxious, but their +faces cleared as the late ones arrived. Two or three rows behind them +the village schoolmaster dropped like a shot rabbit into his seat. + +"A minute later and we'd have been lost," whispered the Duchess. "It's +always a battle to keep him off the platform. Once he is wound up no +power on earth can stop him. Twice already he has offered his +recitation, proposing to fill the breach." + +"Poor devil, what a shame!" said Barnaby. "Why not let him?" + +"We did let him--once," said Wickes, and a reminiscent shudder passed +down the row. He addressed himself eagerly to Susan. + +"It's awfully good of you, Mrs. Hill," he said, the worried creases in +his long face relaxing. "Every time I get up a village concert I swear +it will be the last, but I go on doing it year by year. You have no +idea what the tribulations are----" + +"That is meant for me," said the Duchess, lowering her voice to a +guilty whisper. "--I ask you, how could I help it? You know what a +commotion there was this morning, getting off to the meet.--I told +somebody to call down from my window to Rufus Brown that he was to +attend this concert and sing _John Peel_.--I could tell him a mile off +by his old grey horse; you know how the creature bobs his head up and +down:----" + +"_I_ did your bidding," said Barnaby. "You only said 'Stop him!' and I +don't know who on earth it was, but it certainly wasn't Rufus." + +"How was I to know," groaned the Duchess, "that he had sold the grey?" + +"But the beggar was quite delighted," protested Barnaby, who saw +nothing worse than a joke in this substitution of a probably voiceless +stranger. "He undertook to do it." + +The Duchess pointed a solemn finger. + +"Barnaby," she said, "you have been out of the world too long. You +don't know the whole horror of the position. There he sits!" + +"Flushed with victory," murmured someone else, "hoarse with +bawling:----" + +"It was an awful moment," said the Duchess, "when he came and thanked +me for the compliment I had paid him. I've never spoken to the wretch +in my life." + +"He feels you have adopted him now," said the Job's comforter at her +elbow. "Barnaby, you don't know him. He's the most impossible bounder +who was ever kicked out of society, and we have all been turning him +the cold shoulder for the last two seasons. We were beginning to hope +we had finally choked him off." + +"Poor Wickes is nearly beside himself," said the Duchess. "He will +never get over it. But imagine my feelings when I discovered what I +had done----" + +"The populace at the back didn't know what to make of it; they are used +to us rollicking in _John Peel_,--shouting out the chorus. But we were +all too utterly petrified to emit a whoop----" + +"Is there anything you would like in the way of properties, Mrs. Hill?" +said Wickes, in a severe, sad voice. Susan looked down, suddenly +nervous, her hands clenched, her face a little pale. + +"What is your wife going to do?" Kilgour was asking, and Barnaby was +answering carelessly that he didn't know. + +"She is rather a dab at acting," he said, and now he was looking +humorously at her. But for once she failed to smile back her +recognition of the eternal joke between them.... Yes, she was good at +acting.... + +"Turn the lights down," she said, and Mr. Wickes flew obediently to the +nearest lamp. Anything to obliterate past misfortunes!--"And there is +a woman at the back with a baby. Ask her to lend it to me." + +She had meant to amuse them differently, but some impulse had made her +change her mind. She flung a dark shawl, borrowed, over her satin +frock. Mr. Wickes came back to her, carrying the child gingerly; its +mother had relinquished it with pride, only protesting against his +taking it up by the back of its neck like a puppy, which Wickes, +distracted by his responsibilities, had seemed inclined to do. + +They were all looking at her with interest, mildly stirred to expect +something unusual, as the anxious Wickes helped her on to the platform +and lowered another lamp. But as she stood above them their curious +faces faded, and the touch of the little body, so light in her arm, +took her out of herself. She was once more playing, playing for life, +in the Tragedy Company; making the people sob at the tragic end of the +drama. + +"--Don't waken the child...." + +The first note of her voice vibrated like the plaintive string of a +harp. The listeners were startled. + +She was the woman whose husband was faithless and, in the horrible +madness that gripped him, was coming to take her life. She was shut +in, hidden in a poor shelter, miles away from human help; and she was +listening for his step in terror, loving him so bitterly still that she +would have been glad to die, but clinging desperately to life for the +sake of his child. And she rocked the baby on her arm, half +distracted; singing to it, ceasing her chant to listen ... and +imagining his approach. But all the while, in her despair, she stifled +the scream that was on her lips;--she must not waken the child. + +Farther and farther she retreated, staring with frightened eyes at the +door, but still hushing the baby at her breast; and then, all at once, +she stopped, and bent her face to its cheek. A pause hung, +significant; and then came her cry, dreadful, heart-breaking. The baby +was still. He might come; he might kill her ... he could not waken the +child.... + +"Good heavens, how real!" said Mr. Wickes. + +Susan, breathing a little quicker, looked down on the dim-lit audience. +All these women could ride, all these women could dance.... She wanted +Barnaby to think of her sometimes, later. Would he remember her by the +one thing they could not do? by that wild scrap of melodrama? + +The room was shaking with an almost hysterical applause. Behind there +was an enthusiastic stamping. And the only woman who was not crying +was the baby's mother, who was too flattered, and one other who looked +on with disdainful eyes. + +"Did you like it?" asked the actress wistfully. It was Barnaby himself +who had come forward to help her down. She could not hear what he +said; it was under his breath, and it was drowned in the clapping. + +The lights had gone up again; she could recognize the people who were +surrounding her, as she stepped down amongst them. Near the wall, not +very far from the Duchess, who was frankly borrowing a large, masculine +handkerchief, were sitting a thin, fair woman, and a big, stupid, +slow-witted man. They both had an odd look of having just found each +other. The Duchess wagged her head at them. + +"Yes," she whispered, "there they are. They have made it up.... +Wickes, don't you think it would be a noble deed to invite the +schoolmaster to play God Save the King? It will get his name into the +local paper." + +"Certainly," said Wickes. He took a long breath, conceiving his +troubles over, remaining, however, with his eyes fixed on Susan in a +kind of awed curiosity. Finally he spoke out the problem in his mind. + +"Do you mind telling me," he said, apologetically, "what spell you +used--how you contrived to keep the infant quiet?" + +"Oh, she's a witch!" said Barnaby. + +"Yes, she's a witch," said the Duchess kindly, "but I know the secret. +It had a comforter in its mouth." + +They were all moving now, bustling out of their chairs, and blocking up +the gangway with their "good nights." The proletariat was waiting for +them to depart before shuffling out of the shilling benches. And there +was Julia, paler than usual, but as lovely, smiling at Barnaby, giving +him a long, strange look that was full of pity and understanding.... + +"You're done up," said Barnaby. "Come along. I shouldn't have let you +be dragged into this performance on the top of a hard day's hunting." + +She kept her lip steady, wishing she had not seen that interchange of +glances; shrinking absurdly from the implication that was conveyed by +Kilgour's officious interposition of his broad person. Did he think he +could arrest the march of events by planting himself like a kind ox +between Barnaby and Julia? Did he think they would not find means--? +Still she kept her lip steady, letting Barnaby hurry her down the room; +reminding herself that she had no right to feel insulted, or even a +little sad. + + * * * * * + +When they reached home she was going straight upstairs, as was her +custom, but Barnaby stopped her. + +"Don't go up yet," he said. "You ate no dinner. I told them we'd have +something when we came in." + +She let him draw a chair for her beside that red fire in the hall that +always tempted the weary to go no farther; and bring things that she +did not want out of the dining-room. + +"I've sent away the servants," he said. "I've got out of the way of +them flitting round me. You'd rather sit here, wouldn't you, and get +warm and let me forage?" + +For a little while they were gay, and then he cleared away plates and +glasses, and a silence fell between them. He settled down in another +of the great chairs and lit a cigarette. A smile curved in the corners +of his mouth and vanished; he was thinking hard. Susan watched him, +shading her eyes with her hand that he might not raise his head +suddenly and read their wistfulness. She was not often alone with him +in the house. + +What was he thinking? His face was no longer careless; the kind blue +eyes were fixed earnestly on the fire. She remembered the strangeness +of Julia's look and her heart ached, guessing. Something must have +happened between them; he must have let her see unmistakably that he +loved her still. For there had been no restlessness in Julia's air, no +bravado,--it had been the smile of a woman who was sure. And he had +himself set a barrier between them. + +She felt a wild longing to comfort him, to take his head on her arm and +whisper that nothing was too hard for a man,--nothing worth that +steadfast, unhappy gaze. + +He moved, and the start it gave her set her pulses beating fast. If he +had not stirred, might not the impulse have been too much for her? +might she not have found herself kneeling by him, comforting him in the +madness of her heart? She heard her own voice, imploring, sharp as if +in some stress of mortal fright-- + +"Oh, let me go! Oh, will you not let me go?" + +He had looked up quickly. The sobbing wildness of her cry broke in on +his absent mood. + +"You are tired of the farce?" he said. + +She came back to herself. What was the matter with her? +"I--cannot--bear it," she said slowly. + +And for a minute there was silence again between them. She heard the +fire crackling, a far-away clock ticking on the stairs; ... she thought +she could hear the silence itself. + +"I didn't know it was hurting you," he said. + +He was sorry for her; he must not be sorry. She tried to laugh. + +"Don't think of me," she said. "It--it didn't matter. After all, I'm +an actress. I am one of these strange people that can pretend. Let me +go back to the other kind of acting, where nobody will think me real; +where there will be crowds applauding, and not just one person to be +amused and say--'She carries it off well, but she'll make a slip,--she +will stumble!' ... Oh, it couldn't hurt me. Don't you know we can only +hurt ourselves?" + +"Do you think I'll let you go back to that life?" he said. + +His voice recalled the raging warmth of pity with which he had once +referred to his lawyer's tale of her plight. Apparently the situation +still roused in him a mistaken feeling that she was in his charge. She +flushed, struggling with a betraying weakness. + +"A hard life," she said, "but not unbearable.... My public will not be +cheated. They will not shame me with too much kindness----" + +Barnaby was not listening. + +"Who was the man,--that fellow last night?" he said. + +Why did he speak of that? Did he dare to imagine that she was building +on another man's promises? that she was scheming, calculating--? + +"No,--" she cried bitterly. "No,--not that!" + +A great while after, it seemed to her, he spoke again. His voice was +quiet. + +"I think you are right," he said. "It's time to make an end of this. +It's too dangerous." + +"Yes," she said faintly. That at least was true.... + +He went on, rather quickly. She was not looking at him. She could not. + +"Listen. To-morrow you'll have a wire from London. I'll see to it. +I'm afraid we can't make it a cable; there isn't time. It will have to +be from my lawyers, saying you are wanted in America on important +business. My mother doesn't understand business. Anyhow, you'll be +excited, and you needn't know what it means; so you can't explain." + +"Yes," she said, in the same low voice. "To-morrow." + +"We'll have to see about boats and things when we get up to town. And, +of course, we'll have to make up a story. But once you're out of this +country----" + +Yes, once she was out of this country it would all be simple. She had +only to disappear. + +"What will you say of me?" she asked, with a sad quaintness. "Will you +tell them that I am dead?" + +He moved suddenly, checking himself. + +"Oh, God knows!" he said. "It will take a lot of planning. You've +forgotten the--other lady." + +Yes, that was his difficulty. Although she would be gone there would +still be a bar between him and Julia. That was the tragedy. + +"I'll be out when the wire comes, probably," he said. It seemed to +amuse him to settle the details; he seemed to be flinging his +seriousness aside. "Rackham is coming over to try a horse. For form's +sake you'll have to send for me immediately. I'll be somewhere down in +the schooling pastures." + +The nearness of exile took away her breath. But the impossible +situation could only have ended so. That had been their bargain. At +least she had not failed him, she had done all that he asked of her, +drinking the bitter cup of her own dishonesty to the dregs. A rush of +memory carried her back to that first night of his return, so distant, +and yet such a little while ago. She held out her hand to him, humbly, +uncertainly-- + +"Good night," she said. "You--you have been good to me." + +Barnaby took her hands in his; clasped them hard. It was surely not +his voice that was so unsteady. + +"It's the last time, is it?" he said. "Let's play it out gallantly. +Let's pretend. Susan,--Susan--is that how you say good night to your +husband?" + +Her heart beat fast; her head was dizzy. He was looking down in her +eyes, drawing her hands to his breast. + +No, not Barnaby:--not the one man she trusted!... + +"Good night,--Sir," she whispered. + +And he remembered; he let her go and stood back as she passed him on +her way to the stairs. + +"Good night," he repeated, in that queer, unsteady voice. "I beg your +pardon,--Madam." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +To-morrow had come. + +It was the same kind of morning as other mornings; there was no lurid +conflagration lighting up the sky. Outside it was dull and quiet, and +even the wind was still. Susan paused at the staircase window, gazing +a little while. + +In the hall beneath she heard Barnaby talking to the dogs. And his +voice shook her. The stunned sense of finality that was with her gave +way to a sharp and sudden pain. + +She could not bear to go down to him. Turning, she fled back. + +"Is that you, Susan?" called Lady Henrietta. She was sitting up at her +breakfast, and the door of her room was ajar. "Where is Barnaby riding +out so early? I heard his boots creaking as he went by." + +"I don't know," the girl said, truly. "I haven't seen him." + +"Then don't loiter like a draught in the door," said Lady Henrietta +impatiently. "Come in and have your tea up here and help me to read my +letters." + +She did as she was bidden. The sharp kindliness of Barnaby's mother +was sweet to her; and it was the last time she would sit with her, the +last time she would listen with a smile that was not far from tears to +her caustic prattle. Whatever happened to her, however they managed +her disappearance, she and Lady Henrietta would never meet again. +Would she think of her sometimes,--kindly?--She was not to know.... + +"What's the matter now?" said Lady Henrietta suddenly. "You look pale." + +Hurriedly the girl defended herself from the imputation. + +"Of course, it's Barnaby," said Lady Henrietta, undismayed. "I suppose +he has been behaving badly." + +"Oh no! Oh no!" cried Susan. + +Lady Henrietta waved her hands impatiently. How fragile she looked, +how pretty;--the pink in her cheekbones matching her painted silk +peignoir. The hardness that sometimes marred her expression had +softened to a pitying amusement, and she had a look of Barnaby when she +smiled like that. + +"You'd deny it with your last gasp," she said. + +Susan was picking up and arranging the letters that were lying in +disorder. It was difficult to sustain that quizzical regard. But +Barnaby's mother had not finished with her. She was not to be +distracted. + +"You never tell me anything, either of you," she said. "What is a +mother-in-law for but to rule the tempest and shoot about in the +battle? It's too firmly fixed in your heads that I am a brittle thing, +and whatever is raging round me I am not to be excited. And it's +absurd. I don't mind having a heart,--in reason. It's amusing; a kind +of trick up my sleeve. But I won't have it robbing me of my rightful +flustrations.--I am as strong as a horse, if you two would realize it. +And you and Barnaby are such a funny couple." + +She scanned the girl's face a minute. + +"I'm attached to you, you little wretch," she said. "But I don't +believe you care a straw for him." + +But as she spoke her merciless eyes had pierced the girl's mask of +light-heartedness. On this last morning Susan was not mistress of +herself. + +"You _are_ fond of him!" she said. "Dreadfully, ridiculously fond of +him like any old-fashioned girl...." + +"Oh, hush!" cried Susan. Anything to stop that unmerciful +proclamation. She flung herself on her knees, and her terrified +protest was stifled in Lady Henrietta's arms. + +"How silly we are!" said she, but she held the girl tightly. "I'm to +bridle my tongue, am I? You are afraid I shall tell him? Oh, you poor +little girl, you baby, is it as bad as that?" + +She pushed her away, as if ashamed of her own emotion, and a fierceness +came into her voice, that had been entirely kind. + +"If you allow that woman to ruin your lives--!" she said. "Oh, I'm not +blind, I'm not altogether stupid--! If you let her take him from +us--I'll never forgive you, Susan." + +Having launched her bolt, all unconscious of its stabbing irony, she +recovered her bantering equanimity, and looked whimsically at her +listener. + +"Why are you gazing at me," she said, "as if I were about to vanish? +I'm not going to die of it. I am going to take the field." + + * * * * * + +Barnaby was not in the house when the girl went at last downstairs. +She wandered in and out of the library, trying to smother her +expectation, listening without ceasing for the telegram that was to +come and make an end. He did not appear at luncheon, and she sat +alone, pretending to eat, but starting at every sound. Afterwards, to +quiet her restlessness, she went round to the stables to say good-bye +to the horses. + +The pigeons flew down to her as she walked into the wide flagged yard. +She went to the corn bin and scattered a handful as they circled round +her and settled at her feet. The men must be still at dinner. There +was no stud groom to look reproachful as she tipped a little oats in a +sieve to give secretly to the horse that had been her own in this +country of make-believe. She felt like a thief as she lifted the +latch. It seemed wrong to be there by herself, without Barnaby. She +had always gone round with him. + +The horse lifted his beautiful head, and they stared at each other. +She patted his quarter with her flat hand, and he went over and let her +empty her parting gift in his manger. + +"Good-bye," she said. "Good-bye, old boy!" + +Tears choked her. She stumbled out through the straw and shut the door +on him. + +All down that side of the yard there was a row of boxes. The bay came +first, and then the chestnut that Barnaby had ridden yesterday +afternoon. He pulled a little with Barnaby; ... he had never pulled +with her. And there was the hotter chestnut that she had called +Mustard, and the brown horse that had been mishandled and had a trick +of striking out when a stranger came up to him in the stall. She had +gone with Barnaby to look at him when he first arrived from the +dealers',--and Barnaby had caught her back just in time. The horse +looked at her gravely, sadly, with no evil flicker in his eye. Life +had dealt hardly with him as with her, and he seemed, best of them all, +to understand. But Barnaby had forbidden her to go near him.... +Mechanically she went on to Black Rose's box, but her place was empty. + +There was a grey next door, an old horse that had carried her many +times. He was to be fired in the spring, sold perhaps. She leant her +head, shuddering, against him; and he licked at her hand like a dog.... +What was the end of them, all these brave, patient, willing creatures? +A few seasons' eager service, and then, step by step, as the tired +muscles failed the undying spirit--knocking from hand to hand, harder +fare, worse misusage,--the dreadful descent into hell. + +Once, on their way back from hunting, they had come suddenly on a +strange procession, a gaunt herd of worn-out shadows making their last +journey, staggering humbly along the wayside. It was a haunting +tragedy. Staring ribs, hollow eyes dim with misery,--and the cursing +driver thrashing one that had fallen, and lay in a quivering heap on +the grass. She had asked what this horror was.... Just a shipload of +useless horses travelling in the dusk their unspeakable pilgrimage to +the sea. + +And she had turned on the men riding at her side. Shame on them, that +were English, that called themselves a sporting nation.... What a lie +that was! she had cried.... + +And Barnaby had said--"She's right there!" and the other men had not +laughed.... + +There were voices in the saddle-room. One of the grooms crossed the +yard whistling. She was still leaning her head against the old horse, +and she waited. She did not want the men to stare at her and wonder; +she did not want them to find her there. + +"The master took out Black Rose, didn't he?" + +"Yes. He's gone down the fields with his Lordship." + +"Will he be riding her in the Hunt steeplechases?" + +That was a stranger's voice, not one of Barnaby's servants. + +"Can't say."--The stud groom was cautious. + +"That's an ugly brute of his Lordship's. Why didn't he ride him here?" +said another voice, joining in. + +"He had to go somewhere in the motor, and so I'd orders to bring the +horse over. It wasn't a job I envied," said Rackham's groom. + +"If ever a horse was a devil, that one is," said the stud groom, +laconically. + +"Wants a devil to back him," muttered Rackham's man. "I never ride out +of our yard without expecting he'll down me. Got a history, hasn't he?" + +"Who told you that?" + +"Stevens told me you'd passed a remark about him." + +The stud groom received the insinuating suggestion with a dignity that +was proof against pumping for the space of a minute. He chewed on a +straw discreetly. Then his own knowledge became too much for him. + +"If I told you his history, Arthur Jones," he said slowly, "you'd never +lay your legs across him no more." + +"Then for God's sake tell it," said Arthur Jones. + +The stud groom laughed grimly. He was a man of saturnine humour, and +liked impressing his underlings. + +"His Lordship knows," he said. "If any man could cow a horse, he can. +Weight tells. Weight and devilry. But any other gentleman buying +Prince John I'd call it suicide. If I didn't,--according to +circumstances, mind you"--he lowered his voice, not much, but +enough--"call it murder." + +Would the men never stop gossiping and disperse? She would have to +face their curious looks at last. + +"I was up Yorkshire way when his Lordship bought him," said the stud +groom deliberately. "Four of us was leaning over the bars at that +auction. Two of us had a mourning band on the sleeve of our coats, and +the third chap had unpicked the crape off his a month ago. When they +put Prince John in the ring there came a frost on the bidding. They +said he'd ought to 'a been shot out of the road, and never put up for +sale. His name wasn't Prince John then. He'd been run in two 'chases, +owners up;--and he'd killed them both." + +The men stood with their mouths open, digesting the horrid tale. And a +stable lad ran into the yard from his vantage point on a hillock. + +"They're down at the jumps," he said, "--and they're changing horses." + +It was then that the girl came out, passing swift as an apparition. +The men fell back, touching their caps. + +"I'll lay she heard you," said Rackham's man. + +The stud groom looked after her curiously and, crossing over to the +door of the grey's box, that she had left unfastened, closed it without +a word. + +She did not know why she was hurrying to the house. What +half-conscious panic had seized her as her inattentive mind took its +wandering impression of the grooms' idle gossip? What words had +reached her, lodging in her brain to inspire that wild sense of +impending trouble? It was no good searching for Barnaby in the house. +He was down at the jumps,--changing horses. + +"There's a wire for you," said Lady Henrietta. + +It had come. At first she looked at it stupidly, as if it, the signal, +were some trivial interruption. She heard herself explaining, like an +unthinking scholar repeating a half-forgotten lesson. "I must go away. +I--I have to go away." + +"Bad news?" asked Lady Henrietta quickly. Susan crumpled the telegram +in her hand. + +"Yes, it's bad news," she said. "It is from the lawyers." + +Vaguely she recollected what she was to say. Something about going up +to London at once, and perhaps on to America. + +"Let me see it," said Lady Henrietta. "Yes, it sounds urgent. We'd +better send somebody to fetch Barnaby. He will have to take you. You +must catch the afternoon train." + +"Yes, I must catch the afternoon train," repeated Susan. That was +decided. Had not Barnaby mapped it out? She wondered dully how he had +managed to convey private instructions for that impeccable message; but +all the while she was thinking, thinking,--and suddenly she was +conquered by her wild, unreasoning fear for him. + +"I'll go and find him," she said. + +Lady Henrietta demurred, curious, desiring to cross-examine; but the +girl's face smote her, and she forbore to hold her back. + +It was not far down the fields, and she went like a driven leaf, +possessed by a fear that would not be stilled by reason. She had gone +down there sometimes to watch them schooling hunters, and she had +ridden the jumps herself, that day when Barnaby showed her how they +trained steeplechasers, with real wide hedges and a movable leaping +bar. He had tried to prevent her risking the double, bristling with +difficulty, and she had defied him, larking over it, and then galloping +back to him to say she was sorry. + +She counted the fences mechanically as they came up one by one, visible +against the winter sky; lines of artificial ramparts, defended by a +guard rail, made up with furze;--and the lapping rim of that actual +water jump. The strange thing was that as she came nearer and nearer, +instead of diminishing, her premonition grew. She talked to herself to +keep down her panic. + +Why were so few men killed steeplechasing? Because it was dangerous, +Barnaby had said. It was the rabbit holes and the mole-hills and the +grips that broke your neck unawares.... That was the gate he had shut +between them, he sitting on his horse on the far side laughing, while +she practised hooking the latch and pushing it back with the handle of +her whip. He had shown her first the nail studded in the horn of the +handle to keep it from slipping;--and then he had clapped the gate +shut, declaring that till she opened it fairly, without his help, she +should never pass. And she had ridden through triumphantly at last. +It was the only thing he had had to teach her. How quaint they were, +these heavy wooden latches.... She let the gate swing and ran. + +Rackham was on Black Rose, and Barnaby on a chestnut. They were +walking their horses when she caught sight of them, and Barnaby was +letting his look over a fence, flicking his whip at the ridge of furze +with its withering yellow blossom. They were not talking loud, but she +thought his voice sounded angry. The chestnut was restive. + +"Keep still, you brute!" he said. + +Something was wrong between the two men. Some old antagonism had +flared up, rousing them to a hot discussion. The chestnut lifted his +forefeet off the ground, and Barnaby shook his bridle carelessly, +warning him again to be quiet. Then all at once up he went, seizing +the unguarded moment.... + +Crash! + +The girl saw him rise, saw him stagger, falling back on his rider; and +she ran on with sobbing breath. + +The chestnut rolled over sideways and struggled on to his legs. A +little way off the mare was plunging, upset by what was happening; she +could hardly be controlled. Susan had reached Barnaby, she had thrown +herself down beside him to lift his head from the rough grass where he +lay so still. Rackham had dismounted; he was coming to help;--but she +was out of her mind with terror. She caught up Barnaby's whip, +springing to her feet, lashing at him as if he were a wild beast that +she must keep at bay. Then she dropped on her knees again, and laid +her cheek on Barnaby's heart, and the turf was heaving up round them +both. + +Far off, indistinct, she heard troubled whispers, and one quite close. + +"He's breathing still, my lady." (That was the stud groom, who had +formerly served a countess. He always addressed her so.) She looked +up at him. + +"He's living yet, my lady," the man repeated in an awed undertone. +"Best not try to move him. They've sent a car for the doctor. Best +let him lie till they come...." + +He knelt on the other side, and one of the men stood over him in his +shirt-sleeves, folding up his coat. With significant carefulness they +raised Barnaby's head a little and slipped it under. And then they all +waited and watched for a hundred years.... + +When the doctor came he was still unconscious. Something was broken, +and there was bad concussion. It was possible he might be injured +internally, strained, crushed,--a cursory examination could not make +sure. They stripped a hurdle of its furze, and he was lifted and laid +upon it; the men hoisted it on their shoulders and tramped with a +dreadful slowness through the fields to the house. + +"I'll ride on and break it to his mother," said Rackham, averting his +eyes from Susan as he spoke to her. + +"Yes," she said dully. She had forgotten him. + +And as it often is, the one who was thought least fitted to support a +shock took it coolly. A lengthy experience of hunting accidents helped +her to seize, comforted, on Rackham's report of concussion, and to +believe in his blunt assurance that the whole thing was nothing worse +than an ordinary spill. A more diplomatic messenger might have +terrified her with his gentleness, but she suspected no concealment in +a man who, without beating about the bush, looked her right in the face +and lied. She did not see the men carry their burden in, and when the +others came to her, relieving Rackham, she was comparatively calm. Her +active fancy was diverted by measures that she ascribed to a misplaced +anxiety for herself. + +"I am not going to collapse," she insisted. "It's too ridiculous +making this fuss about me and not letting me go to him. It's not the +first time the poor boy has been brought back to me knocked silly. You +needn't be so fidgety over me;--you had better look after Susan.... My +dear, my dear, I know what it is! And concussion is a thing the +doctors can't cut you to pieces for, thank Heaven. Give her a little +brandy!" + +Rackham's glance met the doctor's. The case was too serious to provoke +a smile. + +Lady Henrietta had turned to Susan. + +"Oh," she said, with the air of one who wished to demonstrate to an +over-anxious circle that she had her wits about her--"that telegram--! +Of course you can't go now. We must wire up to town.--" + +The girl listened to her without at first comprehending. + +"Oh,--the telegram," she repeated. How pathetically absurd that futile +invention sounded now. + +"I must go to him," she said. + +The doctor nodded encouragement. + +"I'll bring a nurse back with me when I come again," he promised. + +Into the girl's pale cheek came a sudden colour. She lifted her head +and her eyes shone. She held out her hand, and all at once it was +steady. + +"No one else;--no one but me!" she cried. + +Oh, the farce was not played out; the curtain was not down. She was +still his wife to that audience; it was to her he belonged, to no +other.... Desperately she stood on her rights;--the poor, fictitious +rights she had purchased with all that pain. + +"_You_ can't nurse him," the doctor was saying gently. "You'd break +down; you would make yourself ill. You don't know what you would be +undertaking." + +But Barnaby's mother was on her side. + +"Fiddlesticks!" said she. She had brightened unaccountably; in her +voice ran a queer little tremor of satisfaction. "Let her make herself +ill if she likes. Why shouldn't she? I've no patience with modern +vices, calling in hirelings--! A wife's place is with her husband, not +quaking outside his door." + +Susan was looking bravely in the doctor's doubtful face. + +"You can trust me," she said, on her pale lips a wistful flicker that +hardly was a smile.--"I too was a--hireling, once. I know how." + +She knew he must yield. What man would dare to stop her? What man +would dare to dispute her claim? Only Barnaby himself, who might one +day laugh at the tragic humour of her assumption. A kind of despairing +joy shook her soul, and was blotted in a passionate eagerness of +devotion. Barnaby was hurt, perhaps dying, ... and nothing could +conjure her from his side. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +The house had become very quiet. + +Under Barnaby's windows and right down the avenue the crunching granite +was spread with tan. The servants moved silently about their work, +even in the far kitchens whence not a sound could be heard. + +For a long time he was unconscious; for a long time he lay breathing +heavily, and they could not tell if he was in pain. Other doctors came +down from London, and Lady Henrietta had to be told what it was that +the girl was fighting with that pale and steady face. + +"It's love, sheer love, that keeps her going," said one witness to +another, watching her courage in the deeps of agony and uncertainty, +and, at last, in the breakers of hope. + +She was safe in giving herself without stint, because for a long while +he did not know her, and it did not matter to him who it was that was +soothing him with a passionate gentleness of which his jarred brain +would have no knowledge when it recovered its normal tone. She could +sit at his bedside hushing him, whispering that she loved him, she +loved him, and he must sleep. + +Sometimes he talked to her in unintelligible mutterings, sometimes his +rambling speeches, without beginning or end, were bitter to understand. + +"You mustn't mind what he says," the doctor warned her kindly. "It's +certain to be rubbish. Generally they go over and over some silly +thing they remember.--I had a patient once who got into fearful trouble +through winding off something about a murder he had read in a book." + +--That was after he had stood awhile listening gravely to Barnaby's +restless talk. + +--"I'll find a way out. Wait a bit, my darling.... We'll not have our +lives ruined by that mad marriage. I'll find a way out for us." + +It was not always the same. Sometimes in the night it would be--"I +tell you she's my wife. No, no, not the other. Awfully good joke, +what? Mustn't lose my head, though; mustn't lose my head." + +And Susan would lay her cheek against his in an agony lest he should +hurt himself with his excitement. + +"Sleep!" she would whisper, "oh, my dearest, lie still and sleep...." + +"But I love her. Don't you know that? I can't marry my girl. Because +I love her;--just because I love her--mustn't lose my head!" + +Once after she had quieted him, and he had lain a little while +motionless he called her. + +"Are you there?" he said. His voice was so sensible that she trembled. + +"Yes," she said softly, and he gave a sigh of content. But soon he was +muttering again, and restless. + +"She wants me to sleep," he was repeating, "she wants me to sleep." + +No, he had not known who she was. She bent over him, smoothing his +forehead with a tender and anxious hand. Sometimes her touch was +magnetic. + +"Yes," she said. "Hush, my dearest." + +"Kiss me," he murmured suddenly, "and I'll go to sleep." + +And since at all costs he must be coaxed to slumber, she kissed him for +the woman who was not there. + + * * * * * + +Slowly he turned the corner, slowly. + +And at last she found him watching her one morning as she came towards +him with a cup in her hand, across the great, wide room. She liked +this room; it was so vast and simple. Its battered furniture must have +been his when he was a boy. And there was no clutter of pictures and +photographs; only a few ancient oil-paintings of hounds and horses. +Above his bed a square patch in the wall-paper that was unfaded, +betrayed where a woman's portrait had hung once and had been taken down. + +"Hullo!" he said. + +He lay looking at her, thin and haggard, but his whimsical smile +unchanged. + +"It's she," he said, "or is it the stuff that dreams are made of?" + +"It is she," said Susan. + +"I've been ill, haven't I?" he said. "And I say, Susan, have you been +nursing me?" + +"Yes," she said, steadily. + +"I thought so. I've had a kind of feeling that you were there. What's +it all about? Wasn't I down at the jumps with Rackham,--and the horse +went up--? Did I get damaged?" + +"Rather," she said. + +"And you didn't fly to America?" + +"No," she said. + +His weak, amused voice, talking in pauses, smote on her heart. + +"Ah," said Barnaby. "It would have looked bad if you'd bolted, +wouldn't it? No end heartless. Susan,--oh, I've noticed things, off +and on,--you've been killing yourself looking after me.--" + +His smile was troubled. She shook her head at him. + +"You didn't do it," he said, "because, oh,--because of some queer +notion that you owed us something--? You didn't do it to make it up to +us,--to pay us out?" + +She put her arm under his pillow and, raising him slightly, lifted the +cup to him and let him drink. If Barnaby could have known:--if he +could have seen her claiming him in her hour of desperation--! If he +could have dimly guessed what a dreadful happiness had walked hand in +hand with pain! She had won something of her mad adventure. She was +the woman who had nursed him, who had waked night after night at his +pillow. Nobody could rob her of that. And when she was gone he would +perhaps think of her with kindness.... + +"It wasn't remorse," she said. + +"It's awfully good of you," said Barnaby. "But why--but why----" +There was a faint eagerness in his puzzled voice. + +"Perhaps," she said bravely, "it was the dramatic instinct. How could +a poor actress forget all her traditions? How could she help rising to +her part? Don't talk.... Lie quiet and laugh at me all you want." + + * * * * * + +One day Lady Henrietta came into the room with a budget of letters and +all she could rake of gossip. + +"You two have been shut up so long," she said, "I believe you have both +forgotten there is such a thing as an outside world. Why don't you ask +who has been inquiring for you?" + +"Who has been inquiring for me?" said Barnaby. + +He was propped high in his pillows, and was looking like himself. In +the afternoon he was to dress and sit in a chair and read the paper. + +"Everybody," she said. "Poor Rackham has been two or three times a day +when you were bad. Of course it was his horse that did the mischief. +He would not be satisfied without seeing Susan----" + +"Did you see him?" asked Barnaby. There was something a little odd in +his intonation. + +"Susan see anybody?" exclaimed his mother. "She had eyes for nobody +but her patient. All the wild horses in Rackham's stables would not +drag her away from you.--He's thinking of going abroad for a bit, he +says. To America, or Canada;--he confused me with his talk of cities +and mines and mountains. I don't know if he has any idea of making a +fortune there or if he is looking out for a lady. I said you might +have to go out there too, but the unfortunate accident had postponed +it,--and he said it was a bigger place than I fancied, but to let him +know if he could be of any use to you. His manner was rather queer." + +"Poor chap," said Barnaby. "I daresay he is hard up. It would have +been lucky for him if I--Why, what is the matter, Susan?" + +"Don't tease her," said Lady Henrietta. "You can't possibly realize +what a fright she had!" She turned briskly to the girl, however. "We +never heard any more of that mysterious telegram that was to carry you +off so quickly the day Barnaby was hurt," she said. "Have you quite +forgotten it? Does absolutely nothing matter to you but him?" + +Barnaby had begun to laugh, weakly, uncontrollably. + +"Oh, that will keep," he said. + +"What do you know about it?" said Lady Henrietta, catching him up +sharply. "It came when you were out. I understood she was looking for +you when she witnessed your smash. And I'm convinced it has never +entered her head from that day to this." + +Then she remembered her heap of letters. + +"Look at all these!" she cried. "All begging for news of him! And the +offerings! There never was anything so romantic.... There's one old +woman down in the village that's killed her pig and, Barnaby--she sent +up a delicate bit in a dish for you." + +"Romantic--?" said Barnaby. + +"Oh, romance has singular manifestations," said Lady Henrietta. "You +never know.... There was that girl of Bessy's, for example, who used +to write poetry.--She was too romantic, poor thing, and that's why she +never married.--She went in for hero-worship. Used to go into kind of +trances of adoration over a famous soldier that she had never seen. +And once I tumbled over her sitting on the hearth-rug with her hands +clasped behind her head, gazing with a rapt expression into the fire. +I thought she was fighting his battles with him in her imagination, or +poetising; but she whispered--'Don't interrupt me! I'm darning his +socks.--'" + +She was turning over her letters. + +"Here's one for you, Susan," she said. "It's a London postmark. A big +hotel, but rather a common hand." + +Susan took it indifferently. Lady Henrietta was already plunged in the +midst of a family letter; wherein an aunt of Barnaby's was presuming to +offer her advice. She read out bits of it with little shrieks of scorn. + +"'When Toby broke his leg I made a point of----' Who cares what folly +she committed when Toby broke his leg? 'I do hope, Henrietta, you see +that the doctors do not permit the poor boy's wife to be in and out of +the sick-room. It irritates the nurses.' ... Ah, but ours is a +romantic sick-room! If _we_ had married a fool like Charlotte's +daughter-in-law--!" + +She glanced up smiling at the other two. Providence, not she, had +taken the field; and she had faith in its workings as efficacious. But +Susan was not attending. She was reading her letter still. "My dear," +said Lady Henrietta, "who is the common person?" + +But she got no answer. + +"Come! Tell us," said Barnaby; and at his voice Susan started. + +"Somebody I--used to know," she said. + +Lady Henrietta had returned to her own correspondence. Her mild +curiosity could wait until the girl had finished deciphering the almost +illegible scrawl. + +"You might straighten the pillows for me," said Barnaby. + +She tore the letter across and threw it into the fire. Then she came +over to him and did what he wanted with a jealous eagerness that was +new. + +"Was it a worrying letter?" he said, in a low voice. He had nothing to +do but look at her. + +"No," she said, "it didn't worry me." But her tone was subdued, too +quiet, as if she had had a shock. + +"I'm eternally grateful to you for burning it, though," he said; "that +abominable scent it reeked with was like a whiff of nightmare. I seem +to remember it. I wonder where I can have run across a woman who +advertised herself like that.... I'm glad you burnt it. Considerate +nurse. It was the only thing to do." + +She was grateful to him for not insisting. Not yet, not yet; not just +this morning! ... Afterwards she would tell him.... She moved away +from his side and picked up a newspaper from the pile that lay with the +letters. + +"Do you know what you look like?" said Lady Henrietta, tapping her +cheek. "Like a child that has been startled, like a child when an +unkind shake has scattered its house of cards." + +It was true. But such a tottering house, such a dream-built, +precarious house of cards!-- + +Lady Henrietta dropped her voice, ostensibly to communicate a paragraph +in the aunt's letter that was unsuited to the profane masculine +understanding. + +"I don't want to pry," she said; "but was that by any chance an +anonymous letter?" + +"Oh, no, no, it was not," said Susan. + +"Not Julia's hand disguised? That woman is capable of anything. She's +been here several times inquiring. Sending in brazen messages!--" + +"Is there anything in the paper?" said Barnaby. + +Susan glanced hastily up and down the sheet. No, there was nothing. +Among the theatrical announcements an American play that had come to +London. + +"She is looking in the advertisements!" said Lady Henrietta, +affectionately scornful. "My dear, the poor boy is thirsting for +murders and politics." + +The advertisements.... And among them---- + + +"_To-night at 8._ + +"_The Great American Comedy--'Shut Your Windows' ... Mr. Rostiman's +Company. Mr. Hayes, Mr. Vine..._" (a long list of names that were +unknown to her, and unmeaning);--"_And Miss Adelaide Fish_." + + * * * * * + +Barnaby was up and dressed. + +He was much amused at his own weakness, at his dependence on that slim, +supporting arm. He let Susan settle him carefully in a chair, and then +frightened her by getting on to his feet and pretending to walk out of +the room. She flew to him, scared, reproachful, making him lean his +weight on her shoulder as she brought him back. + +"Tyrannical girl!" he said. + +She looked down on him as he sat there, dressed and shaved, his clothes +fitting rather loosely, his blue eyes hollow. How unspeakably dear he +was. How hard to face emptiness.... + +"I'll put your mother in charge of you while I am gone," she said. + +"Don't be too long," said Barnaby. "I'll miss you." + +Unwillingly her heart sank. He would miss her. In that little while; +in that scant half-hour--! + +"Patient," she said, "you flatter." + +And smiled at him bravely, and went away. + + +"I'll go to him immediately," said Lady Henrietta. She was writing +furiously, despatching a counterblast to the aunt's interfering letter, +which had contained more warnings than she had read aloud. It deserved +six pages. + +"How do you spell inseparable?" she asked, hardly interrupting the +delightful business of administering a slap to one whose +daughters-in-law were not wax and whose sons were wild. Distractedly +she glanced at Susan. + +"You look wan," she said. "I told them you were to have the motor with +the hood off. Get all the air you can. Do you mind taking this old +brooch into the town to be mended?" Her eyes twinkled as she unpinned +it and put it in Susan's hand. + +"There!" she said, "that will make sure you don't hurry back too soon, +pretending you have had your breath of air." + +The girl went into her own room and slipped on a hat and coat. While +she tied a veil round her head she remembered that in the diamond star, +which was the only thing in the house that was her own, a stone was +loose. Since she must go in to the jeweller's on Lady Henrietta's +trumped-up errand she might as well take it with her. + +The motor was not round when she descended, and she sank into one of +the deep chairs in the hall. When she was away from Barnaby the +strength in her seemed to fail. It had been heavily tried, and the +strain was telling on her, now that it was relaxed. + +The tan that had been scattered on the avenue still deadened the sound +of wheels. But she saw Macdonald, who was waiting to pack her into the +car, moving to the door; and rising, she went towards it. She had not +time to draw back as she saw her mistake, for Julia was on the steps. + +Swift in seizing her opportunity the visitor walked in at the open +door. There was something belligerent in her entrance. + +"How is he?" she asked, without preamble, addressing Susan. Macdonald +had fallen back discreetly. + +"He is better," said Susan coldly. "I have to go out, Miss Kelly." + +"I must see him," said Julia, in a low, intense voice that would not be +denied. "I've tried and tried, but they never would let me in. You +will take me to him." + +"_I?_" said Susan. + +Julia did not blench under these accents of proud surprise. + +"Yes," she said. "You daren't refuse me. I know too much." + +The assurance in her voice warned the girl that this was no hysterical +vapouring, but a challenge. She answered her bravely, maintaining an +outward calm. + +"I am sorry I cannot do as you wish," she said. + +How lovely the woman was, with her angry flush, and her long-lashed +eyes. How recklessly she spoke. Some theatrical impulse in her had +overridden prudence; whoever liked might have heard her.... With that +odd irrelevance that keeps the mind steady under fire Susan was +wondering who it was that had said--"Yes, she's a beauty, but the back +of her neck is common----" + +"You have no right to keep us apart," said Julia. "I've been patient +... but this is too much! After all I'm not stone; I'm a woman--With +all the world gabbling about you and your devotion--! I daresay you +think you are getting an influence over him. Poor Barnaby--! All this +while you have had him at your mercy!" + +She fixed her eyes on Susan with an indescribable stare of scorn. + +"Will you take me to him?" she said. + +"I will not," said Susan. + +Julia came nearer. They were practically alone. Macdonald was putting +rugs in the motor. + +"I believe you are fond of him," she said ruthlessly. "Fond of him! +You the cheat, you the impostor--!" + +Ah,--she had known what was coming. She had read it in Julia's eyes. +Desperately she stood her ground. + +"You insulted me once before," she said slowly. + +"Yes," said Julia. "Even then I was not blinded.... But now I know. +I've known ever since the Hunt Ball, when Barnaby----" + +"Barnaby--?" Susan repeated the word under her breath as if it was +strange to her. + +"--When Barnaby said that you were not his wife." + +The girl stretched out her hands unconsciously for a support that she +did not find. There was a mist between them, and she swayed on her +feet. Weak in spirit and body from her long nursing, she felt as if +someone had struck her a whirling blow. In a kind of vision she saw +Barnaby and Julia dancing;--always Barnaby and Julia dancing;--people +had talked that night; they had sympathized with her.... Well might +Julia laugh at her disapproving world if he had whispered--that! And +it was true. She had only to look in Julia's triumphant face to know +that this thing was true. + +She could not speak. She turned and walked slowly towards the stairs, +and began to go up. On the landing above she waited until Julia had +reached her side. Then she went along the corridor without turning her +head until they had come to the end. + +At Barnaby's door she stopped and, turning the handle, spoke at last to +the other woman, the woman to whom he had betrayed her. + +"Go to him," she said. + +And without another word she left her, and left the house. + + +Barnaby looked up, surprised. + +Susan must have started, and Lady Henrietta would not open his door so +slowly. Who was this rustling on his threshold? + +She took a little run into the room, and stopped. + +"Oh, Barnaby!" she cried emotionally. "At last--!" + +His unresponsiveness was thrown away on her excited mood. Flushed with +victory she misread his expression, less like rapture than +consternation. + +"This is a bit unexpected," he said. "I'm not in very good form, +Julia. I'm afraid I must ask you to excuse me--" + +"Was I too sudden?" she said. "Ah, poor Barnaby; how you are +altered;--how ill you look! Let me do something for you--" + +She rushed at him with enthusiasm, casting a glance around her for +illumination, and he could but smile at her hasty gesture, not yet +grasping its full significance, not realizing the jealous +self-assertion that lay behind her bewildering readiness to push him +back in his chair, to shake up his pillows, to administer some potion. + +"I don't want anything, thanks," he said. He was still grappling with +the problem of her appearance. + +"Oh--" she cried, desisting, "to think of you, helpless all this time, +and in the hands of that woman--!" + +"Are you speaking of my wife?" he said. + +Julia laughed softly, reproachfully, and let her eyes rest on his. + +"Foolish man!" she said. "You might have trusted me. Think what I've +had to endure! Wasn't I punished enough for that ancient +misunderstanding? Did you think I was so vindictive that you dared not +confide in me? But I would have shared your burdens. For your sake I +could even forgive your mother." + +What was she driving at? His mouth set in a stiff line that might have +warned her if she had not been so sure. + +"I meant to wait," she said, "to pretend I was ignorant like the rest; +to hug the secret till you struggled out of that wicked tangle and came +to me. I understand you so well. I knew for whose sake you were +trying to avoid a scandal. Oh, Barnaby, how mad it was--and how like +you--!" + +"Julia," he said, "what do you mean?" + +She missed the dangerous note in his voice, too quiet. + +"I'm not angry with you--now," she said caressingly. "But, Barnaby, +was it fair to me? People are so uncharitable ... they talked cruelly +about us. And if I hadn't known that she was not your wife,--if I +hadn't known you were free----" + +"That's a mistake," he said grimly. "I am not free." + +She stared at him. So great was her gift of illusion, so invincible +the vanity that in her was the breath of life, that she had put down +his stiffness, his strangeness, to the effort to keep his feelings in +control. The glad shock of her visit must have been almost too much +for him. But what was that he was saying? + +"Oh," she burst out. "Don't tell me she has entrapped you! That's +what I was afraid of; that's why I felt I must see you at all risks, in +spite of all opposition. I knew she would try to take advantage of +your weakness while you were her prisoner, while you lay here at her +mercy, no match for her--!" + +No, he was not strong yet. His forehead was wet and his mouth was dry. +He had a curious longing to find himself back in that cool bed yonder. + +"Oh, for God's sake," he cried. "Stop talking nonsense!" + +His adjuration checked her passionate speech. She remained gazing. + +"I don't know," he said slowly, "how you got hold of +your--hallucination. I don't know on what grounds you are making +that--accusation. Did I hear you say that Susan was not my wife? +Don't repeat it." + +Julia drew a quick breath of amazement. + +"Barnaby!" she gasped, in an incredulous, startled voice. + +"Don't repeat it," he said stubbornly. Yes, the old fire was +extinguished, the old spell shattered. And still she gazed at him, +unable to comprehend. All at once she began to laugh. + +"She did not deny it!" she said. "At first she tried to keep me from +you, but when I told her I knew all,--that you had confessed it +yourself,--she was beaten. Oh, anybody who saw her face would have +known the truth!" + +She was frightened then. His eyes were so blue and blazing. + +"You told Susan," he repeated, "that I--that _I_ had said she was not +my wife?" + +"Yes," she said, still defiant, but quailing a little before his look. + +He stood up. He was regarding her with an expression that held no +memories of the past. It was all blotted out; no trampled passion, no +hidden tenderness stirred in him to excuse her. + +"If you were not a woman--!" he said, in an implacable tone that was +unknown to her.--"You had better go." + + * * * * * + +"What a monster I am!" said Lady Henrietta. "How neglectful!--Was I +more than five minutes? You'd have rung if you'd wanted me, wouldn't +you? Poor boy, were you very dull?" + +"It's nearly time for her to come back," he said. + +He was looking tired. Getting up had not done him good. Feeling +somewhat guilty his mother sat down to amuse him and make up for her +lapse by half an hour's brisk attention. + +Somehow his curious depression affected her. She, too, began to listen +for the motor. + +"I told her not to hurry back," she said apologetically, as time went +by. "She's been doing far too much. If she doesn't take care of +herself now you're better, she will break down." + +"Wasn't that the car?" said Barnaby. + +But no light step came hurrying up the stairs. + +"I'll ask," said Lady Henrietta, and rang. The servant who came knew +nothing, and was sent down to make inquiries. She was puzzled by the +report. + +"I can't understand this!" she said. "Barnaby--they say the car has +come back without her." + +His look alarmed her. She jumped up quickly. + +"I'll see the man myself," she said; "it must be some ridiculous +blunder." + +She was a long time downstairs. When she came back she was bewildered +and indignant. + +"They tell me," she said, "that Julia Kelly has been; that she saw +Susan before she went out----" + +"She came up here," said Barnaby. + +"So the servants tell me," she said. "I can hardly believe it--! And +the man says that Susan made him drive her straight to the station. He +heard her ask when there was a train to London. There is no message--" + +Anger was struggling in her voice with apprehension. She looked +suspiciously at her son. + +"Barnaby--" she said emphatically, "if this is Julia's doing--I'll +never forgive either of you!" + +He had got on his feet, and stood uncertainly, as if measuring his +strength. The look on his face struck her into silence. + +"Don't couple me with Julia," he said, setting his teeth. The sweat +was glistening like dew on his forehead. "Poor little girl ... poor +little girl.... So she's gone. Why, what's the matter with me? What +an incapable fool I am!--How am I to go and find her if I +can't--walk--straight across a room--?" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +All London was placarded with that American play. + +It ran through the streets in big letters on the omnibuses; it walked +in tilting lines in the gutter; it stared out from all the hoardings +with the wide smile of its principal actress ... Adelaide Fish. + +And it was the gaudy poster that startled Susan out of the unhappy +listlessness that had fallen on her. Facing her suddenly it arrested +her wandering step. + +Adelaide Fish.... Had the world stood still after all, and was it this +morning that she had had a letter...? + +"Hideously inartistic," said one passer-by to another. + +"Still she's handsome. I've seen her. One of these big women----" + +Yes, it was inartistic. Reds and blues and greens in vivid splashes, +and the name writ large. A marvellous jump from the bankrupt shifts of +the Tragedy Company to this smiling elevation. And Barnaby was still +ignorant. He had not been warned. + +She thought of him now. The passionate shame that had caught her up +like a flame sweeping all before it had died out. She felt only a kind +of wonder at herself, looking back. It was inevitable. The impossible +situation could only have ended so.... But in the background all the +while was the woman. + +She tried to shake off the lassitude of despair. Why had she burned +the letter? She had been going to tell Barnaby, although the writer +had forbidden her to share its contents with him. It would have been +simpler to let him--but no, she could never have put that letter into +his hands. Hard enough to look him in the face and tell him what she +could repeat;--that the woman who was his wife, the one in whose +likeness she had been masquerading, had written, and was in England. +But before she had spoken Julia had intervened and the waters of +bitterness had closed over her head. + +Barnaby must not be left in the dark. She had a wild and sudden +longing to do something for him still; one last service. She could +find out from this woman what were her intentions towards him and if it +were a threat or a promise that had lurked in that ambiguous letter. + +She must ask somebody where she was. For the first time she realized +her surroundings, the roar of the traffic, the restless street. + + * * * * * + +Outside the theatre an interminable train of people, wedged tightly, +endured with their faces turned towards the gallery stair; another +line, reaching far down the pavement and less good-humoured, guarded +the entrance to the pit. The lights falling on their faces threw up a +singular likeness in expression, a kind of touch-me-not attitude that +defied their physical juxtaposition. Squeezed like herrings, their +pained endurance was heightened by the universal lack of a smile. And +the lines were haunted by a street musician strumming his lamentable +tune. + +As Susan went up the dark entry she was pursued by unfriendly glances, +the quick suspicion that she was a late comer who must be turned back +ignominiously in her base attempt to push in at the head of the line. +As she vanished inside the stage door there was an interested murmur; +here and there a man unbent and asked his neighbour which of them she +was. Then there was a click and the crowd went surging forward. The +doors were open. + +Miss Fish was in her dressing-room. + +Like one in a dream the girl was breathing that familiar atmosphere of +the theatre. It seemed to shut off for ever all that was yesterday. +She stumbled into a little room violently scented, full of blinding +light. And a woman swung round and seized her hands. + +"There you are!" she said. "I can't kiss you--my face is sticky. I've +sent away my dresser. Wait till I shut that door!" + +She made a dash and secured it, then pushed Susan into a chair. + +"I'll have to make up while I talk," she said. "Go on; go on. I'm mad +with curiosity! I am dying to hear it all." + +"I had your letter," said Susan. + +Adelaide laughed. Her warm voice had a note of banter. + +"I didn't know but you had waxed fat like Jeshurun," she said. "Wasn't +it he that kicked?--So I wrote that letter. I had to see you. You +burnt it? You didn't tell him?" + +"He does not know you are here," said Susan. "He has been ill." Her +heart was beating painfully hard; the air in this close little room was +suffocating her. It was not air.... + +"Yes?" said Adelaide. "That's how I know about you. My dear, don't +tell me! I picked up a picture paper and saw a piece about him and his +accident, and his devoted American wife!--I'd so often wondered what +became of you. It's tremendous!" + +There was admiration in her gaze as she turned unwillingly from her +visitor to the glass, smearing her chin as she talked. "I did hear of +him being alive," she said. "I saw that in one of our papers, 'English +Gentleman Comes Back from the Grave' and so on. I _was_ scared when I +thought of you. They said what a joy it was to his wife and his +mother, and I thought they had been too hasty. But there was never a +word more, though I watched the paper. I decided he must have walked +into the offices here and said--'I do not desire you to mention +this'--I'd heard it was done sometimes by the upper classes. But--!" + +Again her face expressed unqualified admiration. "You must have had a +nerve," she said, "you poor kitten!" + +The girl sprang up, her mouth proud, her eyes imploring. + +"Adelaide," she said, "you were good to me once, you--you tried to help +me. Won't you believe me when I tell you I am nothing to him? It was +all acting, all acting from beginning to end. Never real, never what +you said in your letter. I was only staying in his house +playing--that--part till I could disappear without scandal." + +"What?" said the woman bluntly. "Has he never said to you--'If I can +free myself of the other I'll marry you?'" + +"Oh, never; never!" + +"Then," said Adelaide, "it's not for your sake his lawyers are getting +busy, trying to find what they call flaws, trying to break his +marriage? They can try.... You didn't know?" + +She turned on the girl with a suddenness that took her unawares; read +her face. + +"He's not playing you fair!" she cried. + +It was remarkable, just then, how she resembled Julia. Half dressed as +she was, half made-up, her eyes darkened, and scorn on her carmined lip. + +"I'll give you a hold over him," she said. "I'll stand by you. Wasn't +it all my doing? Who's that knocking?--You can't come in." + +Good-nature was back as she turned from the interruption. She smiled +indulgently, as one who was hoarding a gift. + +"I wouldn't lift a finger for him," she said. "But I'm silly over you. +I'll tell you. And you can go back to him and make your bargain." + +The girl shut her lips hard. She must listen;--for Barnaby's sake she +must listen. The shamed colour ebbed in her cheek. + +"I'm not mad, or bad,--at least not to speak of," said Adelaide, "but +I'm careless.... Oh, I'll give you your Englishman, child; you needn't +look so stricken! I once had a kind of a romance myself. When I was a +young thing like you I married myself to a shabby little poet. But I +grew tired of him muttering verses and dreaming things upside down; and +we had a divorce, and I ran and left him and went on the stage. And +all the while that little man kept on writing; and when he'd used up +all his poetry, and all the dead kings and queens, he woke up and wrote +a play." + +A queer pride, not unmixed with tenderness, came into her voice at that. + +"What do you think?" she said. "Nothing would move him but that they +should find me out and give me the star part. 'I have had her in my +mind all these years,' he said, 'and it is she. No one but she shall +play it.'--All these years that I had forgotten him, he was building me +a ladder--." + +She laughed abruptly, banishing sentiment. + +"I've done all the talking," she said, "and I must, while you sit there +dumb with your big eyes asking me if it's to be the dagger or the bowl. +D'you remember when I was Queen Eleanor, and you were the Rosamond, and +the boys nearly shouted the roof down, begging you not to drink? Ah, +those times, they were funny. I've shot up since, like a rocket into +the sky." + +Time was running out. Somewhere in the distance there was a blare of +music. She had finished making up, and she must let in her dresser. + +"Listen to me," she said. "His people haven't the clues to connect a +Phemie Watson they never heard of with Adelaide Fish. You'll have the +start of them. Make your terms; make your terms before James and I go +to housekeeping again.... I daresay he'd never find it out for +himself. About that divorce--it was never fixed. The lawyer wanted to +go duck-shooting, and I was gone, and James,--why, they're +unbusiness-like, these poets!--he says he had always hugged an +inextinguishable spark----" + +She paused, looking impatiently at her listener, who was so silent. + +"Don't you understand?" she said. "I'm no more Mrs. John Barnabas Hill +than you are. If you're wise you'll make him marry you to-morrow." + + * * * * * + +Susan did not know which way to turn when she was in the street. It +seemed much darker; it seemed as if she were lost. + +She walked blindly on and on. The people were ghosts that were +streaming by; their faces that gleamed and passed did not lighten her +terrible loneliness. A straw in that human river, she was afraid. + +There was a post-office on the other side of the street. She almost +ran to it, unconscious of the swift perils of the crossing. + +For she must write to Barnaby, and the thought of communicating with +him, poignant as it was, had a strange touch of comfort. The bare +office became a harbour. + +They gave her a letter card, and she wrote at the counter, with the +scratching office pen. That was why it was so ill written. It was +ridiculous how such a trifle hurt her. Was it not the first and last +time she would ever write to him, and did it matter how badly, since it +was to tell him that there was no bar between him and Julia? ... + +He would be glad to have it.... + +She held it fast an instant before letting it fall into the yawning +slit. She liked holding it in her hand, because it was a link between +her and all that lay behind that curtain of loneliness; because it was +going to him. In a little while he would touch it, would wonder, +perhaps, at the unknown hand, hat poor scribble--! She dropped it in +and it went like her own life into the dark. + +For awhile she hurried, fighting her choking terror of the emptiness +that was left. Why was it worse now than it used to be? She had been +in strange cities, she had been friendless.... And somewhere behind in +the glitter that mocked the darkness there was still one person who +would help her, if she asked help; who would be kind to her lavishly, +without understanding. She did not ask herself why it was impossible +to turn in her rudderless flight and appeal to the woman from whom she +had tried to guard her heart. There was a gulf between her and +Adelaide. Little by little the fear driving her seemed to fail, and +all other emotions grew indistinct, crushed by an infinite weight of +fatigue. At last she could not think, could not suffer. She only +wanted to go to sleep. + + * * * * * + +It was a frost in Leicestershire. There would be no hunting. + +That first irrelevant thought struck Susan as she felt the sharpness of +the air breathing in on her face. The narrow window above her head had +been propped a little way open with a hair-brush, and the curtain that +divided her bed from the next was agitated; she had a neighbour who was +astir. + +With her eyes shut the girl imagined the grass frozen white, and the +branches silver; heard the rapping trot of a string of hunters +exercising in the long road beneath the park. + +But this was not Leicestershire; it was London, and she was lying in a +narrow bed in a small square attic. At the foot stood a washing stand, +with a jug and basin, at the head a chest of drawers. There was not +room for a chair. + +Was it last night she had followed a stranger bearing a candle up +flights and flights of uncarpeted wooden stairs? The weariness of that +pilgrimage obliterated her stupefied sense of relief when the kind, +worn woman had consented to take her in, her absurd inclination to sink +down on the chair in the passage and fall asleep. She had thought she +would never, never cease climbing stairs. + +She remembered now. + +Lady Henrietta had asked her once, when she and Barnaby had run up for +the day to London, to call on an old governess who was ill. "In a sort +of lodging-house," she had said. "One of these places where women live +in hutches and eat in the basement." And the dreariness of it had +haunted her. Somehow she had found her way there again. The old +governess was gone, but the manageress recalled her face. They would +not have taken her in without luggage at an hotel. + +With that came the recollection that she was penniless. The few chance +shillings that she had with her she had spent on her railway ticket. +She remembered thinking of that in the train;--she remembered finding +Lady Henrietta's battered brooch that she had pinned in her dress to +take to the jeweller,--and the diamond star that was the one thing she +had to sell. Ah, that was between her and destitution. She started +up. What had she done with it? She had been too utterly weary to +think or care. + +The draught was beating the dingy dividing curtain that swung on its +iron rod; it bulged like a sail over the top of the chest of drawers, +sweeping it clear; and it parted, giving a glimpse of a girl beyond +with the star in her hands. She started. + +"I was just putting it back," she said. "The curtain knocked it off on +my side. How it sparkles!" + +Susan stretched out her fingers, a little too eagerly. + +"You needn't be so sharp," said the girl, disconcerted. "I could buy +heaps like it for a shilling apiece at a shop in the Edgware Road," and +she threw it back carelessly, and began to whistle to show she was not +abashed. + +She had a plain, good-humoured, impudent face and dusty hair. On her +arms she wore a pair of black stockings with the feet cut off, fastened +by safety pins to her under bodice. She was tying her petticoat. + +"I want to sell this," said Susan. In her loneliness she was loth to +offend a stranger.--"But I hope I shall get more than a shilling for +it." + +"I'll give you three," said the girl, and then was all at once smitten +with awe. "I say--you don't mean to say it's real?" + +Her off-hand manner became subdued; she looked curiously but +respectfully at Susan. + +"You came here unexpectedly, didn't you?" she said. "Did you know you +had slept all Sunday? Mrs. White said you were dead tired, and that +you were a lady. I'll lend you my brush, if you like;--and a bit of +soap." + +Susan smiled at this proof of confidence. + +"I'll shut the window, shall I?" the girl went on, letting it slam as +she withdrew the hair-brush. "I was airing my bed. I always make it +before I go down because I'm anæmic, and I've no breath to run up all +these flights of stairs after breakfast.--If you want to be private you +can pull the curtain." + +That was the one thing she would not willingly do for her; with her own +hands shut out the view of one so mysterious. + +The other sleepers were stirring behind their enshrouding folds, like +hidden moths preparing to burst from the chrysalis. In one quarter +after another the heavy breathing was cut short by an awaking sigh. +One or two emerged with their jugs and padded barefoot to the hot-water +tap on the landing. + +"I'll get you a jugful, shall I?" said Susan's friend, and having +installed herself as mistress of the ceremonies, returned to the +subject of the star. + +"Mind you don't try a pawnbroker," she said. "If you take my advice +you'll walk into the swaggerest shop in Bond Street, where they are +used to ladies." + +"Why?" asked Susan. + +The girl assumed a great air of worldly wisdom, cocking her head on one +side like a London sparrow. + +"Oh," she said, "_they_ won't be so likely to lose their heads over +you, and perhaps ask you how you got it." + +She had not considered that. Her dismayed look gratified the girl, who +at once adopted the manner of a protector. + +"You'll be all right," she said. "They'll know the difference in the +Bond Street shops. It wouldn't do in the City." + + * * * * * + +She had been in a jeweller's shop with Barnaby once, and it was in Bond +Street. If she could find it ... the girl's suggestion had made her +nervous; she would have more courage in going where she had been with +him. Would they eye her askance even there? Would they make +difficulties, ask questions? The thought harassed her. + +She lingered a minute outside the shop, when she had found it; gazing +into the glittering window, so preoccupied with her errand that it +never entered her head that there might be anyone who would recognize +her among the idle people that were abroad. Defending herself by a +haughty carriage she took a long breath and went inside. + + +"How are you?" + +She started as violently as if she had been a thief. She had never +expected to meet this man again; and there he was, holding her limp +hand in his. + +"I saw you over the way," he said, "and plunged in here to catch you +and ask about Barnaby. How is he getting on?" + +At first she thought it must be in merciless irony he was speaking, and +plucked up a spirit to defy him. He had glanced from her face to the +counter; he was a witness of her singular transaction. She felt his +glance burn her. What was he thinking of it? + +"Oh, he is getting on very well," she said recklessly. + +"Is he up here with you?" said Rackham. Was it possible that he did +not know?--She gasped. + +"No," she stammered. And now he looked at her more strangely. She was +gathering up the price of her star and turning to leave the shop. They +had made no demur; they had given her more than she dared to expect.... + +"Which way are you going?" said Rackham. + +"Your way isn't mine," she said. + +He was keeping at her side; she could not outstrip his strides with her +flying little steps. + +"But I want to talk to you," he said boldly. "You were a little beside +yourself, weren't you, at our last meeting? I've not seen you since +Barnaby's accident.... You blamed me for it, didn't you? My dear +girl, if I had wanted to murder him I wouldn't have been so +clumsy.--What are you doing in London all by yourself?" + +That last question came suddenly, just when his bantering speech had +roused her, and put her off her guard. He was watching her face; and +it blanched. + +"What's the trouble?" he said. "Confound--!" + +He had cannoned into another man, whose approaching figure he had not +marked. It was Kilgour, in London clothes, who blocked the way, with a +growl for Rackham and a friendly hand-grip for Susan. + +"Who's the man charging?" he grumbled. "Though you can't see daylight +through me, still I'm not a bullfinch. Come along, Mrs. Barnaby; you +are just the person I want. I've been praying my gods for a +sympathetic eye. Come and look at my masterpiece in the window." + +His large presence was a safeguard. She could have clung to him. + +"Half Leicestershire is in Bond Street in a frost," he said. "I knew +I'd run across somebody. I've been up myself since Friday. But what +is Barnaby doing in town? What do the doctors say?" + +What a fool she had been not to have dreaded this. Half Leicestershire +in Bond Street! And she had fled to London, the great, engulfing +city--! She could have laughed wildly at herself, at her childish want +of precaution, her romantic imprudence in haunting places where she had +been with him, where it was so likely that she would meet his +acquaintances. But what would he think of her when he heard that she +had been seen....? + +Mechanically she walked on a few paces. Rackham was still at her right +hand; he would not be shaken off. And Kilgour was talking in his loud, +kind, friendly voice; taking it for granted that Barnaby and she were +in town together. He did not guess that she was a runaway. + +"It came to me in a vision on the top of Burrough Hill," he said. +"Rain and mist and the setting sun.... A kind of greyish-black +gauziness with a stripe of crimson. There! What do you think of that?" + +With a grandiloquent gesture he pointed out a diminutive grey and black +turban throned in solitary majesty in the middle of a shop-window. His +shop; his personal achievement. A quaint pride sat on his good red +face, roughened by wind and weather. It was somewhat akin to the pride +great men feel in doing little things. The big successes in life are +too overweighting; they oppress a man with the memory of his struggle, +the long strain, the effort,--the troubling secret of how he has fallen +short. Kilgour might have swelled with pride over greater matters, but +when he thought of them he was humble.... He wagged a delighted +forefinger at his creation, boasting. + +"There isn't much of it," said Rackham. + +Susan was between the two men; she felt like a caught bird that dared +not flutter, and she had still a frantic desire to laugh. + +"That's it," said Kilgour. "No feminine exaggeration. It's all idea +and no trimming, instead of all trimmings and no idea. And as light as +a feather. I tried it on myself." + +She _was_ laughing; not at the absurd image his speech called up, not +at the picture of this bluff sportsman gravely regarding himself in a +mirror, balancing his insecure idea on his close-cropped head;--but at +the tragic absurdity of her own position. How little they knew, these +men! + +"Good-bye," she said. "I--I am in a hurry." + +"Just wait a minute," said Kilgour. "There's another point in its +favour. If you are in a hurry you can clap it on hind-before. Wait a +bit and let me illustrate what I mean. Two or three doors up. You +know this place? It's my rival _Jane_. Now, impartially, let's pick +these hats to pieces." + +But she interrupted his scientific disparagement rather wildly. She +had not known how much she liked him, Barnaby's friend who might have +talked to her of him if she had dared to loiter just for the sake of +hearing his name spoken now and then.... She held out her hand to him +wistfully. + +"Good-bye, Lord Kilgour," she said hurriedly. "Good-bye!" + +He squeezed the little hand kindly, not uttering his surprise till she +had vanished from his ken. + +"Bolted into the very shop!" he said. "How like a woman. Next time I +meet her she'll have one of these monstrosities on her head." + +He nodded carelessly at Rackham, to whom Susan had bidden no farewell, +and strolled on, hailing his acquaintances, looking in the shops. +Turning into Piccadilly he saw a face he knew coming towards him in a +hansom, and raised his stick. + +"Thought it was you," he said. "You don't look very fit to be out. +What do you mean by it? I told your wife you had no business racketing +in London." + +The hansom had stopped. Barnaby was leaning out, staring at him. + +"What did you say?" he asked. There was an incredulous eagerness in +his voice. + +"Eh?" said Kilgour, struck by his looks, and sorry. "Barnaby, old +chap, you ought to be in bed. What's up? You haven't come to town to +consult any fancy doctors? No complications, are there? It's +generally when a fellow is mending that they crop up." + +"No, it's not doctors," said Barnaby. "Look here, Kilgour----" + +"Seems to me," said Kilgour, "as if you had been roped in by Christian +Science. Don't you know what a battered-looking ghost you are?" + +"I'm all right," said Barnaby impatiently. "Just answer me, Kilgour. +What did you mean by saying you told my wife----?" + +"I wasn't meddling," said Kilgour sagely, "I was offering a rational +opinion----" + +"Oh, stop fooling!" said Barnaby. "Do you mean you saw her?" + +The other man was puzzled by the urgent note in his voice. Then he +laughed. + +"Missed her have you?" he said. "Oh, yes, you fractious invalid,--I +saw her." + +"When?" + +There was no mistaking it. Barnaby was in earnest. For the second +time Kilgour had a twinge, an uncomfortable recollection of a brown +leather arm-chair in Wimpole Street and long white fingers handling one +or two queer little scientific dodges that pried into hidden things. +Once he had had to go with a friend. It had turned him sick, that +minute or two of waiting in dead silence to hear the verdict.... Had +Barnaby been there? ... He shook off the unwelcome fancy. If he knew +anything of that girl she would not let Barnaby go into a lions' den +without her. + +"Half an hour ago," he said. "With your cousin in attendance. I met +them coming out of What's-his-name's,--that jeweller's shop in Bond +Street." + +"What?" said Barnaby. He looked like a man whose wits were staggering +under a mortal blow. Then his mouth set hard, in a fighting line. + +"Bond Street," he called up the trap to the driver, and the hansom +dashed jingling on. Kilgour was left marvelling on the kerb. + +"By Jove!" he said to himself, proceeding to cool his perturbation in +the peaceable atmosphere of his club, and stoutly refusing, though +troubled in mind, to draw the inevitable conclusion. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +Susan hardly knew how she reached the dreary place that was her refuge. +Meeting Rackham had shaken her. An unaccountable restlessness took +possession of her as she thought of him; she felt him pursuing her; she +had an impulse to run and run until she was hidden from the penetrating +intentness of his regard. In the shop whither she had fled she had +tried to argue with herself, but it had been useless. The relief with +which she had found herself for the moment free from him taught her too +much. + +She had glanced desperately backwards. He was not walking on with +Kilgour.... What did she want; what excuse had she for staying till he +was gone? She must buy something. Clothes for travelling;--was she +not going to America?--and she had nothing, not even a handkerchief. + +The suggestion steadied her. How soon could she sail? She must find +out at once; must engage her passage.--They had nothing but hats in +here, but an assistant directed her to another shop upstairs. + +Recklessly,--since the prices here were extravagant prices for one who +had only a handful of sovereigns between her and want,--she made +purchases. It seemed to quiet her silly agitation, to restore to her +something of her despairing calm. + +But when she issued into the street again panic ruled her. She could +not breathe freely until she was far from this dangerous neighbourhood, +until at last she was shut inside the gloomy house in a side street, +that barred out imaginary pursuers with the massive security of its +blistered door. + +But she must go out again; she must discover how quickly she could +sail:--perhaps she was missing an opportunity. + +The girl who had talked to her in the morning came in and brushed +against her as she passed in the dim hall. + +"Oh, it's you!" she said, stopping. "How dark it is in the passage! I +wish they'd light the gas. How did you get on? I found something else +of yours up there. It didn't look worth much, but it's no good leaving +things about, and there isn't a key in your chest of drawers." + +As she spoke she held out something. + +"They've been talking about you," she went on, "saying things about you +turning up at night without a bag or anything. They can't understand +you calling yourself Miss and wearing a wedding ring. I told them it +would be worse if you called yourself Mrs. and didn't.--You'll have to +get some things, won't you?" + +She looked inquisitively at Susan, who had sunk on to the hard wooden +chair in the hall, unable to face the stairs. But the mysterious +stranger was hardly attending to what she said, amounting as it did to +a declaration that she had found a supporter. Lady Henrietta's unlucky +brooch, that she had inadvertently taken with her, was just then a +precious thing. She remembered how Barnaby had laughed at his mother, +while she persisted in telling its history, and how she had vainly +tried once or twice to throw it away, but had given up. + +"I know it's bewitched," she had said. + +"It is always bringing me small misfortunes, but I have an uncanny +feeling that I mustn't part with it. Besides, I can't. It has fallen +in the fire, and been left in a railway carriage, and had all kinds of +mischances, but it has always come back to me. It's attached to me for +ever and ever. I don't know what would break the spell." + +Susan smiled a little as she gazed at that bit of dinted silver. Fate +had made an end of the superstition. Surely she might keep it, +valueless in itself, for the sake of the woman she would never see +again. Its unluckiness did not matter.... + +"Yes," she said vaguely. "I must go and get some things." + +What had the girl been saying? There was a kind of sympathy in her +face. + +"Would you come with me?" she asked, yielding to her instinctive need +of companionship. She could not go out alone.... + +"Rather!" said the girl. + +They set out, an ill-matched couple, flotsam that had drifted together, +and would as casually drift apart. The Londoner led the way +confidently, but surprised at Susan's first errand, the shipping +office. It heightened her interest, and she listened closely to the +stranger's eager inquiries. No, there was no room on the next boat +sailing. She could have a berth in the following steamer if she liked, +only three days later. But was there no boat to-morrow?--Oh, yes, but +no cabin accommodation. The traveller did not care. She would go +steerage. + +"You're in a dreadful hurry to sail, aren't you?" said the Londoner, to +whom the trip represented a tremendous voyage. + +Yes, she was in a hurry. + +"And you keep so close to me; you turn your head sometimes as if you +thought we were followed. What are you afraid of?" + +Susan tried to smile, but the truth was too near her lips. + +"A man," she said nervously, with her thoughts on Rackham. + +The other seemed to understand. She did not ask any more questions, +but was kind and useful, advising her, helping her, reminding her that +she must buy a trunk. Till they turned the last corner, and were +within a few yards of the Rabbit Warren, as this old inhabitant called +the house; then she hung back a little, glancing right and left. + +"You're not quite yourself, are you?" she said, consideringly. Her +eyes had the brightened gleam of one plunging alive into a serial tale, +one of these in which lords and ladies behave strangely and the +typewriting girl rules the tempest. As she put her key in the latch +she looked round again. But there were no untoward appearances dogging +them in the distance. There was a disappointing emptiness in the +street. + +The gas was lit in the hall at last, accentuating its gloom. The +rather dismal illumination fell on a mahogany table under the stair +where stood a row of candlesticks, each bearing a different length of +candle and a slip of paper. + +Susan's ally paused to examine them, reading out the names scribbled on +the slips. It was the custom for those who were to be out late to +leave their candles in the hall, and the last one in, finding a +solitary candlestick left downstairs, knew that it was her business to +chain the door. + +"Miss Shanklin, Miss Friend, Miss Mitchell--" read out the inquisitor. +"Mitchell is burnt down into the socket; she reads in bed. She'll set +us on fire one night.--Miss Robinson--that's me, but I've changed my +mind:--Miss Grahame--" + +Susan made no sign. Then she remembered.--That was her name again. + +"Oh, yes," she said, "is that mine?" + +The other girl nodded to herself. + +"Well," she said. "It's been brought down by mistake. Better take it +up with you; they don't turn the gas off till ten." + +She watched Susan go wearily up the long flights, and then ran swiftly +along the passage and called down to the basement. The boy who opened +the door to strangers and carried coals answered her call out of the +black gulf of the kitchen stair;--his eyes glittering, like a demon +invisible in the dark. + +"What are you ladies wanting now?" he asked in an injured voice--"You +can't have 'em!" + +"Gerald," said the girl mysteriously, "come up. Higher;--higher! If +anybody calls here asking for a lady, darkish, with grey eyes, and +middling tall,--never mind what name he says--! Don't breathe a word +of it, but fetch me." + +"Doesn't sound like you," said Gerald, but grinned, diving backwards +into his native gloom. + +Miss Robinson turned from the basement stairs and began her long +journey to the top of the house. No, wild horses would not drag her +out that night. Did they always write down a traveller's address at +the shipping office? Supposing it were her lot to draw two sundered +hearts together? + + +The Rabbit Warren was a depressing house. As the day waned its +dreariness increased; it grew fuller of tired women whose search for +work had been useless, and who came trudging in with the twilight to +join the rest who had been listening all day with straining ears for +the postman, while they studied ceaselessly the advertisement sheets in +the daily paper. + +It was chiefly the incapable, the discouraged, those who had fallen out +of the ranks through ill health, or were losing their hold because they +were not any longer young, who drifted into this harbour. They were +all in a manner waifs, and they had nothing to hope for but that they +might die in harness. + +Susan sat with her cheek on her hand, withdrawn a little, in the dingy +sitting room. She was unconscious of the whispering interest she +excited; she did not hear the subdued discussion that raged around her. +But the atmosphere of the house weighed on her, charged as it was with +failure. It was robbing her of courage. + +How strange it was to look back; almost unbearable. How hard it was to +look forward. She was to sail to-morrow ... she must be brave.... + +The girl who had struck up a casual alliance with her sat amidst the +others, ripping the ragged binding off a skirt. Her sallow face was +less heavy than usual, her eyes alight. + +She had glanced up quickly as Susan came in, and had begun to hum a +tune, snipping fast. It had been impossible to resist the temptation +to crystallise wandering speculation and focus the general attention +for awhile on herself by a few dark hints and thereupon thrilling +silence. The rest fell with a pathetic eagerness on the brief +distraction that lightened their dreary lives. They had outlived their +own little histories; no excitement touched any of them but the +recurrent terror of wanting bread. + +All at once Miss Robinson laid down her scissors and listened intently +to something she heard without. + +"Is that coals?" said one, huddling near the fire, in a hushed voice, +as who should say--Might the Gods relent?--But no full scuttle bumped +the panels as Gerald put in his head. + +"Wanted," he said, and grinned. + +Miss Robinson gave one gasp, half in fright, half triumphant, and fled +out of the room, shutting the door with care. + +Then, for a moment, cowardice nearly quenched her long-unslaked thirst +for drama. Visions of herself as mediatrix, restoring a runaway wife +to her frantic husband, were upset by fearful misgivings in which she +saw herself figuring, not in the gilded realm of the serial page, but +in lurid paragraphs on the other side of the paper. Paragraphs in +which someone heard pistol-shots.... + +In the dim passage she clutched at Gerald. + +"What is he like?" she whispered. + +"A regular toff," said Gerald in an awed voice. "Asked for a Miss +Grant. None of that name here.--Slight, dark lady.--And then I twigged +that he was your party. I've seen his picture once in the _News of the +World_; they snapped him, held up by the police in his motor. How did +you get to know 'im, Miss Robinson? He's a lord." + +"Oh!" she said. This was indeed a sensation. This would last her all +her life!-- + + * * * * * + +Barnaby had had no luck in Bond Street. + +He sat forward in his hansom, leaning out, gripping the front, ready to +dash it open. It did not matter to him how many fools were about, how +many frivolous idiots, men and women, stopped short in their idle +progress and stared at him. Down Old Bond Street, along New Bond +Street, right to the end he went, raking the narrow thoroughfare with a +searching gaze. The shop signs mocked him. Milliners, jewellers, +palmists, druggists, picture-sellers: a fantastic jumble. She might be +anywhere, within two or three yards of him, and he not know it. She +might have just gone in at that door yonder that was closing. She +might be just coming out. + +Half an hour ago. One chance in a hundred.... More likely she was +miles off, whizzing in one of these cursed taxis--! + +Well, he could hunt down Rackham. He would drive to that old barrack +of his in Marylebone. No,--that was let or shut up or something. +Where the devil did he go when he was in town? + +It was late in the afternoon before he ran him down. He had been heard +of, or seen, in most of his ordinary haunts. One man had come across +him in a saddler's shop, another had passed him ten minutes ago in the +Haymarket. And at last Barnaby found him coming out of his tailors'. +He stopped the hansom. + +"Get in," he said. + +"Hullo!" said Rackham, staring at him. "What's wrong with you?" But +he obeyed mechanically, and the hansom started off. "What d'you mean +by kidnapping a fellow like this? Where on earth are we going?" + +"I've told him to drive to my hotel," said Barnaby curtly. There was a +controlled fury in his voice. + +"But why the deuce----" + +"I'm not going to have a row in a cab." + +"Whew!" said Rackham, twisting round and regarding the grim outline of +his cousin's profile, his stubbornly closed mouth. Unless Barnaby were +stark mad there was something serious in the wind, something he could +not trust himself to utter without losing his hold on himself. + +It was not far to the hotel. Barnaby got out stiffly and Rackham +followed. + +"I hope you've got a nurse on the premises," he said,--"or a keeper." + +"We'll go to my room," said Barnaby, in the same deadly quiet voice. +Up there he closed the door and turned round on Rackham like one who +had got to the end of his tether. + +"Now!" he said. "Damn you, what have you done with my wife?" + +"What?" said Rackham. He had not expected that charge. + +"You know where she is," said Barnaby. "Don't lie to me. You were +with her in Bond Street----" + +So that was it. + +"How should I know if you don't?" said Rackham. "Do you mean she's +gone?" + +His eagerness was unmistakable. It was worth a torrent of empty +protestation. The two men looked each other straight in the eyes. + +The likeness between them came out then, when they were roused. +Something in the angry set of the jaw, something in their expression; a +recklessness, a hard blue stare. + +Barnaby had dropped his stick. He could stand up without its support. +For the time he had borrowed strength of passion. + +"You don't know?" he said, and took a long breath. + +"I don't," said Rackham. "There's no occasion to fight me, if that's +what you brought me here for. I saw her; I spoke to her;--but I was +fool enough not to understand. I supposed she was up in town for the +day, buying rubbish. I never doubted she was going back.--I thought +you were still on your sick-bed and she was looking after you--" + +He checked himself abruptly in the burst of angry candour that his +surprise evoked. + +"You needn't look so damnably glad--" he broke out, "because I've shown +myself a simpleton, not a villain. Look here, Barnaby, I've answered +your question. I'll ask you to tell me one thing. She's gone, and you +have lost her. What do you mean to do?" + +"Search London from end to end," said Barnaby, "till I find her." + +"That's how we stand, is it?" said Rackham. "You're not wise enough to +let her go?" + +He spoke more slowly, recovering from his astonishment. There was a +light in his eye, and into his voice had come a ring of exultation. He +had got over his first vexation, his rage at his own stupid failure to +guess the great good news. + +"What right have you to say that?" cried Barnaby. + +"For the matter of that," said Rackham, "what rights have you?" + +The shot told. For a minute they looked again fixedly at each other. + +"You had my answer," said Barnaby, "when I spoke of her as my wife." + +"You stick to that then?" said Rackham. "Though she has found it +unsupportable, though she's gone--you still hold to that pretence? +What's the good? You don't care a straw for the girl. Oh, I've seen +you together; I know the terms you were on.--It's sheer obstinacy makes +you play the dog-in-the-manger----" + +"Take care," said Barnaby, breathing hard. + +"Let's drop that humbug," said Rackham. "_I'm_ no gossip.--But I've +had an inkling from the first. I've guessed all along that it was a +plant of your mother's.--Infernally inconvenient of you to turn up and +spoil it--! But I held my tongue. Nobody else had any idea of how the +land lay but Julia.--There's a devilish instinct sometimes in a jealous +woman--" + +He laughed shortly. Something in Barnaby's look amused him. + +"What? She's been reproaching you, has she, after all?" he said. +"Well, I did you one service there. If I hadn't kept her quiet, she'd +have shrieked it all out on the house-tops on the night of the Melton +Ball. You owe me something for that, Barnaby. There 'ud always have +been a few who wouldn't have put her down as a raving lunatic. Mind, I +didn't muzzle her for your sake--I did that for Susan. I wasn't going +to stand by and see that woman hounding 'em on--!" + +"Have you done?" said Barnaby. He had got back some measure of +self-control. + +"I'm done if you are reasonable," said Rackham. "Why not own up and +tell me what you can, and let me look for her. I swear I'll find +her--but not for you." + +Barnaby took one step towards him, and he stood back quickly, smiling +at his own involuntary precaution. He could afford to smile, to stave +off a scuffle that would summon all the rabble in the hotel. + +"Steady!" he said. "Don't try to kill me. It would be a waste of time +for both of us. I'm not afraid of you, Barnaby, but I have something +else to do,--now,--than to stop rowing up here with you. I'd better +warn you--" + +Barnaby was struggling to hold himself in. Susan had still to be +found, and she would want his protection. Rackham was right there, +damn him; he must not lose his head. + +"And I warn _you_," he said. "I'll find my wife without your help. Do +you hear what I say?--my wife, Rackham. I don't care what story you +have got hold of. Understand that. She belongs to me." + +"And yet she's gone," said Rackham. + +Somebody was knocking at the door, but so discreetly that neither of +the two men heard. Rackham, turning to go, had halted to fling back +his taunting word. And the other man had no answer. His own storming +haste had undone him. + +"You can't get over that, can you?" said Rackham. "It knocks the +bottom out of your doggedness. If she doesn't choose to carry it on +you can do nothing." + +"I can take care of her," said Barnaby. His voice sounded hoarse. + +"No, you can't," said Rackham, with a sudden fierceness that matched +his own. "That will be my business." + +"Yours?" said Barnaby, and his look was dangerous. He advanced on the +other man with a clenching hand. + +"Because," said Rackham, "if she's not your wife:--and she's not; she's +nothing to you--I shall make her mine." + +In the short silence that fell between them the knocking became +insistent. + +"Better let them in," said Rackham, "I'm going." + +Barnaby pulled himself together and turned the key. His locking the +door had been an instinctive action. And Rackham passed out, ignoring +the insignificant person waiting on the threshold, who met Barnaby's +look of blank interrogation with an apologetic reminder of his own +orders. He had said if a message came it was to be brought up at once. +And a message it was;--from the shipping office. + + * * * * * + +Rackham swung out of the place like a conqueror. The knowledge that +Susan had run away was to him the knowledge that he had won. + +He never doubted that he would find her, and inspiration helped him, as +it will the man whose blood runs quicker under the stimulus of his +belief in his luck. What was the shop she had flown into to escape him +and Kilgour, and the embarrassment of their ignorant questions? He had +stayed long enough outside to know it again, waiting till he had no +excuse for loitering any longer. She must have made purchases. He +went straight there. + +How simple it was, with luck on his side, to call in and say that a +lady who had been that morning was afraid she had forgotten to leave +her name and address.... This was no big emporium, but a little +exclusive shop where it was possible to describe a customer's +appearance with a chance of finding it remembered by saleswomen who +recognized his standing and were sympathetically amused. In the +hat-shop they directed him upstairs, and there he found an equal +appreciation of his attitude of comical despair, as he tried helplessly +to run through a list of feminine furbelows that the careless lady was +supposed to have ordered to be sent home. How should a man +succeed?--Smiling they reassured him. They recollected the lady +perfectly from his description, and she had made no mistake in that +establishment; the parcel was already packed and waiting to be +despatched. To satisfy him an assistant was bidden to read out the +address on the label, and as she glanced up at him, expecting him to +verify it, Rackham checked himself just in time. For the name she +slurred over was strange to him. + +Why, he had thought of that,--since naturally the runaway was no longer +masquerading as his cousin's wife;--and yet he had been about to deny +that it was she. What had it sounded like? Grant, or Grand?--And was +it indeed Susan, or a stranger? He had no means of knowing; the only +thing possible was to go blindly forward, trusting in his luck and +fixing that address in his head. + +"Yes, yes, that's all right," he acknowledged, and laughed +good-naturedly at the apparent futility of his mission as he sauntered +out of the shop. + + * * * * * + +It was Miss Robinson's mysterious signal that cleared the room. One by +one, like startled shadows, its denizens flitted thence, and left +Rackham alone with Susan. + +They hung over the stairs, buzzing like bees in the semi-darkness, +thrilled by an interest that was vaguely heightened by alarm. At +intervals they hushed each other into silence, listening with bated +breath lest anything might transpire, and watching with a kind of +fascination the crack of light that issued from the door of the sitting +room. Only Miss Robinson herself went whispering, whispering on. + +"Poor little girl!" said Rackham. + +There was triumph and pity and a threatening kindness in his voice. +His reckless personality seemed to fill the room that had been so +suddenly deserted. + +She had risen to her feet with a gasp at his entrance. A wave of panic +swept over her head and left her slightly trembling;--because she had +had no warning. + +"How did you come here?" she said. + +"Oh," he said, smiling down upon her. "I prevailed on a drab young +woman who seems to have constituted herself your guardian to bring me +in. I wasn't going to risk your giving me the slip as you did this +morning. You wouldn't have seen me if I'd sent in a ceremonious +message." + +"No," she said, "I would not." + +"I knew that," said Rackham. "The same pride that kept you from +telling me the truth would have hidden you from me. You'd have had me +turned from the door.--But the drab romancer was a great ally, though +I've had to agree with most of her wild surmises.--I'll make you +forgive me later." + +He laughed under his breath. + +"She asked me," he said, "if I was your husband." + +"You--you--! Did you let her think----" cried Susan in a choking +voice, fighting against a strange sense of the inevitable that his look +inspired. + +"Oh, she had been thinking hard," he said. "A runaway stranger, +calling herself Miss--Grahame, was it?--I got it wrong--and wearing a +wedding ring. What more likely--? I had the part thrust on me +directly I showed my face." + +He dropped the half-jesting air that had masked his excitement, and +came nearer. She shivered a little at his approach. + +"Daren't you trust me, Susan?" he said. "I'm not a Pharisee.--Why, I +guessed it from the beginning. Don't you remember how I asked you to +let me help you if you wanted a friend?--And all the while I was +watching. Do you think I can't guess how Barnaby drove his bargain, +careless of you, trading on your helplessness in the shock of his +return? What did he care that it was hard on you, so long as it suited +his selfish purpose?" + +"He was good to me," she said. It was no use denying anything any more. + +"Are you grateful to him--still?" said Rackham. + +She turned away her face. + +Something in her attitude kindled in him that instinct of protection +that had from the first struggled in his soul with admiration. Had he +not felt a consuming rage that it had not been his to battle for her, +to turn round on Barnaby and his world, all pointing the finger of +scorn at her for a cheat?--He would have liked them to do their worst, +would have liked to defy them.... Well, that occasion was his at last. + +Barnaby had nearly fooled him. The extraordinary course he had taken +had at first made Rackham curse himself for an imaginative ass. But he +had been right. His time had come.... And Barnaby was defeated. + +"Well," he said, "that's ended. I'll take care of you now, I'll take +you out of this. Look at me! There's nothing between us now, no +fictitious barrier, no mistaken idea of loyalty to a man who took +advantage of your false step to make you play his own foolish game. +You made a gallant show. It almost deceived me, once or twice, almost +made me believe you liked him.... Never mind that. Like a brave girl +you've freed yourself from that intolerable position. And I'm here, +Susan, where I always was, at your feet." + +She lifted her head; a little, sad, desperate face upturned. + +"Why must you insult me?" she said. "Is it because I am all alone?" + +"I'm asking you to marry me," said Rackham. + +She stared at him for a minute. His pursuit of her was not all +selfish: there was an impatient fondness in his reckless face. + +"I--?" she said faintly. "A woman of whom you know nothing but that +she came among you as an impostor? You cannot mean what you say, Lord +Rackham." + +He broke in on her protestation roughly. + +"Do you think I mind tattle?" he said. "Let their tongues wag. We'll +hold up our heads and flout 'em. I'll leave it to Barnaby to find a +way out of his muddle.--Lord, how it will puzzle them,--how they'll +jabber when they see our marriage advertised in the _Morning Post_--!" + +He was taking her assent for granted, arrogant in the heat of his +headlong moment. Perhaps it did not strike him as possible that she +would refuse. What woman in her plight would not lean gladly on the +rescuer who came to offer her his kingdom? Perhaps he was blinded by +his confidence in his luck. + +"I--can't marry you!" she said. + +Rackham did not fall back. He laughed indulgently. Was she troubled +because of the world's opinion? + +"Dear, silly child," he said. "Don't be frightened. I'll make them +treat you properly. I'll make them swallow their amazement; and they +shall be kind to you." + +Yes, this man loved her. That was why she was afraid of him. She was +not used to being loved like that. She had never learned to see in it +help, instead of danger.... + +"I can't marry you," she repeated, but her breath came fast. + +"Oh, but you must!" he said. "Fate is on my side. What kind of a +struggle can you make against me all by yourself? I've found you, +Susan, and I'll never let you go.... There's nothing too outrageous +for me to undertake, and nothing on earth to stop me.--Your hands are +trembling." + +He bent to seize them in his, brushing aside her mute defiance with his +violent tenderness, as determined as Fate itself. Just for a minute +she felt very tired in spirit, very weak to resist him. It was so +strange, although it was terrible, to be loved. Why should any man +care so deeply as to stand between her and the emptiness of the world? +Might she not, if she submitted, find the strange worship sweet? + +She did not know she was wavering until she understood his smile, and +with that her heart was smitten by a fugitive likeness, a trick of +manner, reminding her of another man. Uselessly, poignantly, memory +stabbed her. She flung out these trembling hands. + +"No!" she panted. The thought of it was unbearable. "I can't--I +can't!" + +He was taken aback by the vehemence of her cry. For a moment he did +not speak, looking at her queerly. His laugh was angry. + +"I've a great mind to bundle you into a cab and carry you off," he +said. "Oh, they'd let me!--I've only to tell these people that you are +my wife and a little mad. My tale would sound more probable than +yours." + +She was not sure that he was not in earnest. Panic-stricken she shook +off his hold on her arm, meaning to pass him and reach the door. +Why?--To make a futile bid for sympathy in this house of strangers?-- + +Who was it that had turned the handle and was coming in? Her gaze was +unbelieving; she could neither breathe nor stir till the suffocating +leap of her heart assured her that it was true. For it was Barnaby +himself who was standing in the doorway, just as he had stood on that +night when she had seen him first. Only the look in his eyes was +changed. + +The same faintness overcame her that had stricken her down that night. +She did not know whose arms had caught her as she was falling ... +falling.... But she was afraid of nothing, though all was darkness. + +"Your race, Barnaby," said Rackham. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +"I knew we should get you back," said Lady Henrietta. + +That had been her first word last night, and she repeated it with the +emphasis of a prophetess justified. Still her clasp of the truant had +been almost fierce. + +The journey to London had done her no harm. Rather had all this +excitement given her a fillip. There was a triumphant pink in her +cheek, and amusement twinkled in the fine lines surrounding the corners +of her eyes. Whilst Barnaby had been searching she had been busy, +dealing with an imposing but worldly personage in gaiters, who had been +an old admirer of hers and was her sworn ally. The situation charmed +her; it was like a thrilling but perfectly righteous bit of intrigue. +Quizzically, delightedly, she was regarding Susan. + +"Yes," she maintained. "I pinned my faith to that battered old brooch +of mine. It's unlucky to wear, but still--when I remembered that it +was doomed to come back to me I was tranquil. I knew it would." + +She turned from one to the other, challenging them to mock at her +superstition; and then she laughed. + +"My dear!" she said. "I'll never forget his face when I was raging at +him.--I blamed him, you may be sure. Or his voice when he called to +me--'She has written!' I could get no more out of him till I lost my +patience and cried--'Then for Heaven's sake read the letter and tell me +what she says!' And when he said--'She says she has found out that my +marriage was illegal' I could only exclaim--'Thank goodness!'" + +She laughed again at her picture of his amazement. + +"I shocked him awfully," she said. "But I was transported. It had +solved a riddle.... 'So _that_ was the mysterious American business,' +I said, '_that_ is what was the matter! And she has rushed off and set +you free and all the rest of it, you undeserving laggard! If that's +all it can soon be mended.'--And then he woke up from his stupefaction. +But it was I who thought of the Bishop. It was I who suggested a +special licence. I am the head conspirator, Susan,--and I'll go and +put on my things." + +She went, glancing back to them as she reached the door. + +"Don't let her out of your sight, Barnaby," she said warningly, and +left them together. + +The girl stayed where she was, quite still; gazing down from the dizzy +height of the window on the restless world in the streets below. +Barnaby was limping across to her side. She felt his touch on her +shoulder. + +"There's the church down there," he said. "Like an island in a +whirlpool, isn't it? But all the roar and the rush dies down like the +noise in a dream when you get inside. It's wonderfully dim and dark in +there, and they're dusting the pews for us,--and there are a few lilies +on the altar. And we'll just walk into it hand in hand." + +Her breath came hurriedly, like a sob. + +"Are you--sure?" she said. + +"Ah," he reminded her, "I've never made love to you, have I, Susan?" + +She could not answer him, knowing him so close; and she dared not look +up at him. There was so much to remember, and she had begun to guess +how dangerous it had been.... He laughed, and his hand leaned heavier +on her shoulder. + +"I've been hopping all over London like a mad cripple," he said, "and +at last I've got you. I must hold on to you, or you'll manage to +disappear. Why did you run away when you thought I couldn't follow? +It wasn't fair. Oh, my darling, couldn't you understand?" + +His voice was not steady now; there was reproach in its passionate +undertone. + +"I'm sorry," she said, and laid her cheek against his sleeve. This +thing that was still too wonderful was true. + +"Why," said Barnaby. "It was only you from the first,--that first +night when the sight of you staggered me. I didn't know why, but I did +know that at any cost, at any risk, I couldn't let you go. I thought I +was strong enough, man enough, to keep you safe in my house:--and when +I began to find out what a hard thing I had undertaken, when I had to +fight back the mad desire to make the farce we played at real,--you +believed that I had betrayed you to another woman.... I've got your +letter, your dear scrap of a piteous letter, letting me know that she +and I had no barrier between us.... And that was to be the last I +heard of you, was it, Susan?" + +The reproach in his question was lost in its bantering tenderness. + +"Wait," he said, "till I have you safe, and I'll teach you... And +then, perhaps, we'll dare to look back on it all and laugh,--a long +time afterwards; just you and I, by ourselves." + +Lady Henrietta was back already. She had been discreet, had asked for +no fuller explanation than the one she had so promptly furnished +herself. It was all she was to know; but she was too wise to pry. At +the back of her mind there was nothing but an absolute satisfaction, as +of a warrior who had won her battle. If her eyes, shrewd and +understanding, were dimmed a little as she considered them, she flung +off her emotion quickly and smiled again. + +"How funny it is," she said. "You have no idea how I am enjoying +myself, you children. Put her furs on, Barnaby, button her up to the +chin. I promised the Bishop we wouldn't be late. Secret marriages +never are." + +Then, hurrying him, she was moved to plague him with an irrepressible +spark of mischief. + +"Incomprehensible pair," she said. "I wish I had been at your first +wedding. It must have been frightfully romantic." + +Barnaby put away his watch. An unconquerable flicker lit up his eyes. + +"It was," he said. "I just took her hand like this, and I said--" he +was holding it tight in his--"Let's go and get married, Susan." + + + + +WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD. + +PRINTERS, PLYMOUTH + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Barnaby, by R. Ramsay + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BARNABY *** + +***** This file should be named 36699-8.txt or 36699-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/6/9/36699/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +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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Ramsay +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.t1 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 200%; + text-align: center } + +P.t2 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center } + +P.t3 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center } + +P.t4 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center } + +P.t5 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 50%; + text-align: center } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; } + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Barnaby, by R. Ramsay + +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: Barnaby + A Novel + +Author: R. Ramsay + +Release Date: July 11, 2011 [EBook #36699] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BARNABY *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t1"> +BARNABY +</P> + +<P CLASS="t4"> +A NOVEL +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="t4"> +BY +</P> + +<P CLASS="t2"> +R. RAMSAY +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t4"> +AUTHOR OF "THE KEY OF THE DOOR," "THE STRAW," ETC. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t3"> +London: HUTCHINSON & CO. +<BR> +Paternoster Row +<BR><BR> +1910 +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t4"> +BY THE SAME AUTHOR +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="t4"> +In Cloth Gilt, 6s. +</P> + +<P CLASS="t3"> +THE KEY OF THE DOOR +</P> + +<P> +"The story fascinates; it contains some of the best descriptions of +fox-hunting we have met with, and there is a crispness in the +delineation of all the characters which proves that the author is no +commonplace dabbler in fiction."—<I>Pall Mall Gazette</I>. +</P> + +<P> +"One of the most humorous and lively books that have appeared this +year. It contains some fine descriptions of hunting, and a vivid +picture of county society. The whole book is written with vivacity and +dash."—<I>Country Life</I>. +</P> + +<P> +"Told with a literary skill and a mature judgment which promise well +for future work from the author."—<I>Times</I>. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="t3"> +THE STRAW +</P> + +<P> +"Miss R. Ramsay has written but two novels, but if her future work +fulfils the promise of these, or even maintains their standard, her +public should be large and enthusiastic. She describes fox-hunting +from the true sportsman's point of view, but with a dashing vivacity +and humour. There is rare matter in even the best of contemporary +sporting novels, but there is more in Miss Ramsay's. There is no doubt +that Miss Ramsay possesses exceptional literary gifts."—<I>Gentlewoman</I>. +</P> + +<P> +"It is a jovial story, vigorously and vivaciously written. The book is +invigorating, fresh, and quite excellent in its descriptions of hunting +scenes, hunting country, and hunting weather."—<I>Manchester Guardian</I>. +</P> + +<P> +"This story, briskly written, has plenty of exhilarating pictures of +the hunting field in its lively course. It has plenty of fresh, breezy +humour in the delineation of people who hunt, is clever in +construction, and written with a literary skill that keeps the story +always going."—<I>Scotsman</I>. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t3"> +TO THE MEMORY OF +<BR> +MY FATHER +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +BARNABY +</H2> + +<BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I +</H3> + +<P> +The lamp flickered and jumped at the stamping in the bar. +</P> + +<P> +There was a frantic quality in that noise, laughter and exclamation +mixed with a wild shouting that made the crazy partition quiver. It +was a mad reaction from the common weight of despair. +</P> + +<P> +From the bed in the room behind you could watch the door.... +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Paradise Town was a broken link in the chain of civilization; it might +have been written in letters of rusted blood on the map. Its pioneers +had forsaken it cursing, its trees had been burned for firewood, its +earth had been riddled in vain for gold. All that was left of it was +huddled near the shanty where men could buy drink and blur the spell of +awful loneliness that shut them away from life. It was worse at night. +With the darkness fell a heavier sense of the distance of human help, +and Paradise was an island in a black sea of haunted land. East and +west, wide and silent, the unknown emptiness lapped it in. +</P> + +<P> +Ill-luck and some bitter trick had stranded the M'Kune Tragedy Company +in this dreadful place. Night after night they played in a shingle hut +with their useless scenery stacked outside; night after night M'Kune +broke it to his scared company that they hadn't yet got their fares. +Fear and a kind of superstition worked in their minds until they were +seized with panic. In the daylight the men hung about the bar, +muttering; and the women herded by themselves, packed like hens in a +strange run, hysterically afraid. Prisoners in a desert, when night +had fallen they wandered away to the railroad track and watched. +Towards midnight would rise a red gleam on the far horizon, and they +would hear a distant rumbling, gathering to a roar, till the darkness +was split by a whizzing bar of light. By it went, the great, glaring +thing full of life, terrible in its rush, and leaving the night +immeasurably darker. Among the watchers the men would affect to +whistle. If they couldn't board her to-night they might manage it +to-morrow.... But the women caught each other's hands fast, and +shuddered. Latterly they had felt as if the train were a devil that +counted and kept them there. +</P> + +<P> +But their desperate plight inspired them. Never in their lives had +these poor mummers so hurled themselves into their parts; never again +would they murder and cheat and punish with such passionate realism. +Their fate hung upon it. Penniless and trapped, their solitary chance +of rescue lay in witching all Paradise to stare at them and furnish the +wherewithal. +</P> + +<P> +"Keep it up," urged M'Kune when a tired actress flagged. The hut was +full and airless, but a few men were sullenly hanging back in the +doorway, drawn thither, but arguing if it was worth it to step inside. +"Keep it up!" hissed M'Kune. +</P> + +<P> +And the heroine flung herself between the hero and the villain's knife, +slipped as she ran, and was hurt, but struggled up and cried out her +tottering defiance, bringing the house down before she dropped on her +face. +</P> + +<P> +That was the last night of crazed endeavour. The curtain came rocking +down, and the villain—M'Kune—cheated the gallows to run feverishly +through his receipts. All Paradise was vociferating behind that +flapping rag, but amidst the din the players had heard their manager's +yell of triumph. They had made up their fares at last. +</P> + +<P> +The Tragedy Company scattered and fled, each in search of his own +belongings; but they had little to gather, and the night wind blew them +together like drifting leaves. They durst not squander their means of +escaping, durst not loiter. The train, thundering by in its midnight +passage, must lift them out of this nightmare town. Waiting they +filled the bar, singing and shouting like lunatics, beside themselves +with joy. +</P> + +<P> +The door in the partition rattled, but stayed shut, and on the inner +side was silence. Nobody lifted the latch, though the bursts of noise +shook it from time to time. A selfish panic had left no room for any +other feeling. Probably they had all forgotten that one of the Tragedy +Company who could not escape out of Paradise; and it was all in vain +that the crazy bedstead was turned in its corner to face the door. +</P> + +<P> +She lay without moving. It seemed as if there were nothing of her but +the long black hair covering the pillow. In their hurry those who had +carried her in had not taken out all the pins, and a few glistened in +it still. Looking closer, one saw that her hands were clenched tight +against her breast, as if to keep her heart quiet. +</P> + +<P> +How fast the minutes went! It must be nearly train time. And surely +there was a vast thing, pulsing, pulsing, like an engine, far away in +the night? She could bear the hubbub of voices, but not the dread of +silence. Was it quite impossible to rise up and struggle to them, and +reach a human face? ... Suddenly she took a panting breath, short like +a sob, still gazing. +</P> + +<P> +The door had opened at last, and a woman looked in hastily, and, +flinging a word over her shoulder to the rest, stepped forward, +shutting out the streak of light and the voices in the bar. Then she +paused, irresolute. It was so dim in here, the atmosphere was so +anxious.... And nothing stirring ... just a glimmer of wild black hair. +</P> + +<P> +"You poor little thing!" she said. +</P> + +<P> +Her voice was warm with the cheap kindness of a nature tuned to play +with emotion, but incapable of feeling it from within. Her sympathy +smacked of the stage, but as far as it went was ready to proffer easy +help. +</P> + +<P> +"Like the Flight out of Egypt, isn't it?" she said. "It's a shame to +leave you behind. If M'Kune would hear reason, and any of us had a +cent to spare, I'd make a bundle of you, and carry you on to the train +myself. But it won't run to it. I asked him. We're nothing but +ranting beggars.... You'd better write to your friends." +</P> + +<P> +The girl on the bed laughed. +</P> + +<P> +So much of despair betrayed itself in that tragic note that the woman +was startled. She came a little nearer. +</P> + +<P> +"You don't mean it's as bad as that?" she said, lower. "All dead?—I +might have known it. They wouldn't have let a thing like you fling +about with us. But you'll be all right; you'll rub along somehow. We +all do.... And that man who was once a doctor—" +</P> + +<P> +But at her words a quick terror came to drive out the girl's submission +to despair. She threw out her hands, clutching at the other woman's +dress. +</P> + +<P> +"What?" said she, comprehending. "Then the brute's charity and +promising to M'Kune—Oh, Lord, what a horrible place it is——!" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't go!" The girl's voice was a choking cry. +</P> + +<P> +The woman swung round and listened. Were the rest starting already? +Her fine eyes darkened. She was wrapped up for the night journey in a +faded crimson cloak, her usual wear in tragedy, alike as empress and +villainess. Its dull glow warmed a beauty that was, like her soul, not +quite real. Perhaps she was repenting the hasty impulse that had +brought her in. But she could not pull herself loose from that piteous +hold. +</P> + +<P> +The younger one looked up beseechingly in her face. Her spirit failed +her; she hardly knew what an impracticable thing she was asking, how +uselessly she was clinging, in her horror of friendlessness. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm so frightened ... I'm so frightened..." she whispered, panting +because the effort hurt her; her lips were pale, and her forehead was +damp with pain. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly the woman clapped her hands. +</P> + +<P> +"I've got it!" she said. Her face cleared, and she began to laugh like +one whose mind was rid of a burden. Twisting a ring off her finger, +she caught the little desperate hand still clutching at her skirt, and +thrust the ring on. +</P> + +<P> +"There!" she said. "Change with me." +</P> + +<P> +"I can't understand," said the girl faintly. The other woman burst +into vehement explanation. +</P> + +<P> +"It's Providence!" she said. "Never tell me—! I'm used to this life +with its ups and downs, and its glitter of luck ahead. It's in my +bones; the restlessness, and all that. I couldn't give it up. I +wouldn't. But you—! You didn't guess there was a lawyer tracking me, +did you?—that I'm a widow?—that I'm wanted to go and live in England +with his mother. Perhaps she'd have to pay somebody if I hadn't a +sense of duty.... <I>Me</I> picking up stitches in her knitting, yawning in +a parlour with a parrot!—But you'd be safe there, you child—!" +</P> + +<P> +She paused for breath, triumphant. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll tell him to fetch you," she said. "The lawyer. Wait a minute—I +have his letter; warning me that there is no money in it—no +settlements, as he calls it. I'd be depending on the old woman's +chanty, like any stray cat." +</P> + +<P> +She went down immediately on her knees, and plunged into a kit-bag that +she had slung on her arm, turning out its miscellaneous load. There +was a shiver of glass as she fumbled, spilling things right and left; +and the stale air was scented with heliotrope. +</P> + +<P> +"That's all you want," she said, throwing a heap of papers on the bed. +"Here's his photograph. You can have it. I can't tell you much about +him, but you'll find the clues in there. He was good-looking, too, +poor fellow; a great gawk of a good-for-nothing working with his hands. +John Barnabas Hill—the boys called him Lord John among themselves, and +persuaded me he was incognito. But when I asked him after the wedding +if I was now my lady, he just laughed and laughed; and I went right off +in a passion and never saw him again. It wasn't his fault. I was just +too eager; that's all there was to it. And I'll tell the lawyer I've +left you ill in this wilderness. He'll rush to your side, and take it +for granted that you are me. Don't look so scared. What's the matter?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can't do it," the girl panted, staring with a dizzy wonder at the +casual Samaritan on her knees. Surely the lamp was sinking, the +darkness seemed dangerously near, the kneeling figure brilliant in a +blur. She tried to keep a picture of that kind human face wherewith to +fill the darkness, while instinctively repudiating her mad suggestion. +</P> + +<P> +"Rubbish!" said the woman. "It's the simplest thing. You do +nothing.—And you're an actress." +</P> + +<P> +"But I cannot," the girl said over and over again, holding fast. +</P> + +<P> +"You'll hurt nobody," urged the woman, attaining to some imperfect +apprehension of an attitude of mind that would not, even in extremity, +buy help with falsehood. "If I'm willing to have you stand in my +shoes, who else has a right to grumble? It's perfectly fair all round. +Look! I'm stuffing these papers under your pillow. I'll tell them all +outside that an English lawyer is coming for you, and that'll make +things easy. Don't hinder me leaving you with a clear conscience. +I've been your friend, haven't I? Hush, hush! I tell you you must.... +I'll not let you die in this den. I'll not be haunted——!" +</P> + +<P> +There was a tramping in the bar without. They were going. She tumbled +her belongings into the bag, and clapped it shut. The rest of them +were calling her. +</P> + +<P> +"Luck!" she said, "and good-bye." +</P> + +<P> +Her eyes dimmed unexpectedly, and she bent in a shamefaced hurry, +printing a kiss on the girl's cheek ... and fled. +</P> + +<P> +The door closed. In imagination one might see the midnight train +thundering towards the watchers—hear the grinding of the brakes. To +the bustle had succeeded a dreadful stillness. They had all gone like +shadows, and the listener was deserted. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't ... I can't ... I can't!" she reiterated in a sobbing whisper, +casting the strange chance from her with a last effort of +consciousness. The lamp was dying, and the world seemed to be turning +round. In that unfriended darkness the ring on her finger was +glittering like a charm. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II +</H3> + +<P> +The day's hunting was over. +</P> + +<P> +Of the hundreds who had jostled each other in the first run, a +disreputable few survived, pulling up after that last gallop. They +grinned contentedly, drawing out their watches. Thirty-five minutes +from the wood; a straight fox and elbow-room. It had been worth +stopping out for, though now the dusk was thickening fast, and the +huntsman was calling off his hounds. +</P> + +<P> +"Where's Rackham?" asked one man, peering into the hollow. +</P> + +<P> +"Gone home. I saw his back as we came through Pickwell." +</P> + +<P> +"That wasn't Rackham. That was Bond, hurrying home to tea." +</P> + +<P> +"He's probably come to grief. His horse had had about enough when I +lost him." +</P> + +<P> +Another man popped his head over the hedge that had worsted him. His +hat was stove in, and his tired animal was blowing on the farther side. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>He's</I> all right," he said. "The devil looks after his own. I turned +the most horrible somersault back yonder, through my horse catching his +leg in a binder; and before I could pick myself up, over shoots +Rackham, practically on the top of us. If he'd even given me time to +roll into the ditch!—Down he went to the water.... I wish I could +think he was swimming in it." +</P> + +<P> +"He's not far, anyhow. Hark to him. I'd know that laugh of his a mile +off. There he goes—'Haw, haw, haw!'—all by himself, in the valley." +</P> + +<P> +They turned their heads to listen, with a broadening and sympathetic +grin, as the dim outline of a horseman took shape in the +semi-obscurity, travelling upwards. It wasn't at all unlike Rackham to +turn up like that, though there hadn't been a sign of him till they +heard his laughter. The wonder would have been if he had let himself +be beaten altogether. What obstinacy had kept him going was explained +by the spur marks on his horse's sides as he brushed through a gap and +took stock of the diminished party, the handful that had, by a minute +or two, outstripped him. +</P> + +<P> +"Only the tough 'uns in it," he said. "It wasn't bad. Has the fox +dipped into the sunset and left you staring? Where are we? We must +feel our way home, or let the horses smell it out." +</P> + +<P> +"He's run into a drain. The usual end. What was the joke?" asked the +nearest man. Rackham pulled out his yellow silk handkerchief, and +twisted it round his throat. He was hot, and the air was clammy. With +that, and his wild eyes, and his sandy moustache, he looked like a +handsome bandit. +</P> + +<P> +"It's turning cold," he said. "What? Didn't you hear the plaintive +toot of a motor lying in wait for the man who sells pills? I'm morally +certain the millionaire is feebly chasing his hunter round and round +that big field with the mole-hills in it, miles and miles behind. I +suppose the chauffeur had his orders; but it would be a charity to hint +that following hounds is the worst way to pick up his master." +</P> + +<P> +"Didn't somebody catch his horse?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I did, and chucked him the reins; but I didn't see him get on to +him. I'll bet the idiot let him go." +</P> + +<P> +"Do him good. He'll probably sit on a gate and pass the time inventing +another pill." +</P> + +<P> +"Awful if he's benighted, and all the ghosts of all who swallowed the +other pills pop up screeching——!" +</P> + +<P> +"Poor devil; he will have a time of it, with the mole-hills and the +thistles, and all those ghosts." +</P> + +<P> +The picture called up was upsetting to the general gravity, and they +dispersed, chuckling in the increasing twilight. A division made for +the turnpike, with here and there an individual branching courageously +into a bridle road; and the larger half halted under a signpost that +stretched illegible arms east and west in the lane. It was pleasant to +linger a minute or two, lighting up, guessing at their direction. But +Rackham kept on. +</P> + +<P> +"That's not your way, Rackham," one man called after him. +</P> + +<P> +The match flickered at his cigar, and went out as he threw it in the +road. His horse was walking on with his head down, guided by the +rider's knees. +</P> + +<P> +"Right," he shouted back. "It isn't. Is that you, Parsley? I nearly +jumped on you, didn't I?" +</P> + +<P> +"You did," said one of the dawdling group. "He has been complaining." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if a fellow will sit down unexpectedly before you, like a hen +under a motor, how can you dodge him? Teach that lazy brute of yours +to lift up his hind legs, Parsley. Do you never hit him?" +</P> + +<P> +"I say," called the first man. "Come back. Where are you going?" But +Rackham pursued his wrong road untroubled. +</P> + +<P> +"He can make Melton that way, if he likes," said one of those who were +looking after him. "I daresay he means to call in on Lady Henrietta. +He told me he had a message from her, asking him to come over, but he +wasn't going to miss a day's hunting to see what she was up to." +</P> + +<P> +"I thought they were at daggers drawn." +</P> + +<P> +"In a manner of speaking," said the first, dropping his voice a little; +"but outwardly they are civil. Of course, she hates him coming in for +poor Barnaby's property, and I know he was at the bottom of that row +that made Barnaby rush abroad." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, I remember, Rackham flirted furiously with Julia——" +</P> + +<P> +They edged instinctively nearer to each other, snatching at an +enlivening bit of gossip as they jogged on together with the bats +swooping overhead. +</P> + +<P> +"No mistake about that. And she let Barnaby see plainly that she was +ready to drop her bone for—his cousin. Of course, Rackham is a bigger +match. She's one of these women who can't perceive that titles are +getting vulgar." +</P> + +<P> +"Rum chap, Rackham. I can't quite make him out. What did he do it +for?" +</P> + +<P> +"He owed Barnaby one, perhaps. I don't think he was fond of Julia. +Anyhow, he didn't rise to her expectations; and so she relapsed, and +repented, and trails about now like a mourning bride. Poor old +Barnaby; he'll be missed.... And we'll never hear what wild things he +did out there." +</P> + +<P> +"Desperate sort of cure, to disappear in the backwoods, and never call +on his bankers. Just like him though.—But he shouldn't have got +himself killed in a scuffle in some outlandish quarter, and spoilt the +yarn." +</P> + +<P> +The man next him grunted. +</P> + +<P> +"Who started the rumour that it wasn't an accident," he inquired; "but +that life without Julia wasn't worth tuppence to him, and so—and +so——?" +</P> + +<P> +"Shut up, Parsley. Don't you circulate it," put in his neighbour +hastily. "Heaven send Lady Henrietta hasn't got hold of that." +</P> + +<P> +"By George, if the tale came to her ears——!" +</P> + +<P> +The last man mended his pace. He had hung back a little. +</P> + +<P> +"Rackham's bearing to the right," he struck in. "You can hear the +horse trotting on the hill. He must be turning in to see Lady +Henrietta. I wonder what on earth she wants him for. It was a rather +portentous message." +</P> + +<P> +They had reached a rougher bit of road and their voices grew +indistinct, drowned in a tired clatter of horses' hoofs, and died away +in the distance. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Rackham himself could not guess the reason for Lady Henrietta's +summons. Latterly there had been war between him and his aunt. +Something must have happened to mitigate the rigour of her ban, but he +rather fancied the circumstances must be uncommon that could accomplish +that. He was curious, and not the less so when, having left his horse +to a bucket of gruel, he walked stiffly across from the stables, and +letting himself in at the hall door, found himself face to face with +another visitor, who had just arrived and was slipping off her furs. +</P> + +<P> +"Julia!" he said, taken aback at her presence in this house. She +acknowledged his amazement with a trickling laugh. Her voice had a +note of melancholy importance. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it so unnatural," she said reproachfully, "that you should find me +here?" +</P> + +<P> +The man bit his lip, looking at her. To him there was humour in her +romantic pose. +</P> + +<P> +They had once been so well acquainted—though lately she had affected +short-sightedness when she saw him—that he imagined he understood her. +He rather admired an invincible vanity that had ignored disappointment +and defied scoffing tongues by making this bid for public sympathy. It +was a brilliant move, but he had never thought it would impose on Lady +Henrietta, that worldly woman with a hot corner in her heart for +anybody who could squeeze in, but an implacable spirit. She had held +out stubbornly up to now. +</P> + +<P> +"Well—I don't know," he said, hesitating, swallowing his amusement. +</P> + +<P> +Julia lifted her tragic eyes to his. Perhaps she was not sorry he +should witness her recognition in this house. The trailing black +garments that she was wearing for Barnaby lent a majestic sweep to her +full outlines, and there was a kind of bloom on her cheeks. She +reminded one of a big purple pansy. +</P> + +<P> +The butler, an old family servant, one of those that know too much, had +closed the great door, shutting out the wind and the stormy sky, +already night-ridden; and was now waiting discreetly in the background. +Rackham nodding to him, remarked a curious twinkle on his face, but +when he looked again it was wooden. +</P> + +<P> +"I knew she would send for me at last," crowed Julia. "People called +her selfish and cruel, but I told everybody I understood. I told them +to give her time. It must be so difficult for her to realise that +someone else was closer to poor Barnaby than even she. How could she +help feeling, at first, a little jealousy of my grief?" +</P> + +<P> +"I was sent for, too," said Rackham bluntly. "She said she had +something to show me." +</P> + +<P> +"Poor dear!" said Julia. "How touching that she should think of it. +You were his cousin, and she wants you to witness her do me justice." +</P> + +<P> +The man smiled to himself at her manner of glancing backwards at their +fellowship in disgrace. Was it possible that his aunt had really made +up her mind to forget and forgive, and fall upon Julia's neck? He felt +a twinge of something like shame. +</P> + +<P> +"We mustn't keep her waiting," said Julia. "Is she in the library, +Macdonald? That is where she used to sit...." +</P> + +<P> +Already she was assuming her ancient intimacy with the ways of the +house, and the servant made way for her as she passed him, traversing +the hall with a mournful swagger. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta was knitting hard. +</P> + +<P> +She sat in a deep sofa by the fire, turned so that it faced the +hangings that screened off the outer hall. The library was so big that +it seemed to reach at either end into darkness, and the lamps made +little islands of brilliance here and there in the prevailing gloom. +Behind, with the books, there was another fireplace, a red and +glimmering hearth where two or three dogs lay, warm and sleepy, +dreaming of winter tramps and a man calling them to heel. One, a +terrier with a bitten ear, had started half-awake on a run down the +room, but she could not settle on the other rug, and came back +restlessly to her post on the shabbier tiger-skin. +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby's mother had a thin, hard, eager face, with a flick of colour +high on her cheek-bones. Not an unkind woman, but one possessed by +some passion that had tempered a frivolous, careless nature to a mood +of iron. Her rings glittered as she knitted, and the wires clicked +faster and faster, as if it were impossible that her fingers could be +for a minute still. She was knitting a man's grey-green shooting +stocking. +</P> + +<P> +Occasionally her eyes, with a strange spark in them, lit on a girl +sitting opposite, gazing into the fire. The girl was young and quiet; +her head shone dark in the ring of light; her cheek was pale, but her +short upper lip showed courage. Lady Henrietta watched her with a +fierce joy that was not yet liking. +</P> + +<P> +"You're not at all what I expected," she said abruptly. "I was afraid +of what I would see, and I didn't dare to look at you when you arrived +last night;—but twenty times I turned the handle of your bedroom door. +At last, I poked my head in when you were asleep, just to know the +worst.—I nearly dropped the candle when I saw your little head on the +pillow." +</P> + +<P> +"What did you expect?" the girl said faintly. +</P> + +<P> +"A great, coarse, fine woman, snoring," said Lady Henrietta. +</P> + +<P> +All at once she bent forward, putting her knitting into the girl's +hands. There was significance in the gesture. +</P> + +<P> +"Pick up that stitch for me," she said. "He never liked ladders in his +stockings." +</P> + +<P> +There was no shake in the hard jauntiness of her voice, but the girl, +searching with bent head for the dropped stitch, felt her fingers +tremble as they touched the rough worsted—felt something pluck at her +heart. Barnaby was dead, and she had never known him; but he was the +one real person walking through a dream in which she had lost herself. +</P> + +<P> +She was not strong yet. She still had a trick of putting out her hand +to some steady object when she stood up alone. And at first she had +not understood—too ill to question, not wondering. It was as if she +had died one night and awakened to a consciousness of protection, a +mystery of care and kindness, of strangers who took charge of her, +treating her like a precious doll. When she at last knew the reason, +she had felt like one who, falling from a precipice, found herself +clinging, the dizzy horror stopped by a branch;—she could not let it +go. +</P> + +<P> +So they had found her, and brought her over the sea, and put her to bed +in a great, comfortable room, in a house that was haunted. It was +Barnaby's house, and it was for Barnaby's sake that people were kind to +her. Somehow they were all shadows to her beside the thought of him. +His name had been invoked to shelter her; it had been enough to lift +her out of despair. She had begun to feel safe in a confused assurance +that she belonged to him. +</P> + +<P> +She remembered last night. She remembered the door sliding softly, and +a rustle in the room, and how she had lain quite still, shutting her +eyes, holding her breath, startled out of sleep. Someone was smoothing +the bedclothes under her chin. She longed to cover her face, but could +not. It was not a ghost, for mortal fingers had touched her cheek. +Soon the rustle had withdrawn from her bedside, and she had heard a +little sound that might have been a sigh. Afterwards the door had +closed, and the room was empty. +</P> + +<P> +Seized by an unaccountable impulse, she had put her foot to the floor, +and crossed the wide carpet to the fireplace, where the visitor had +gone from her side. The fire had fallen in, flaring high in a +quivering blaze, and by its light she had seen that over the +chimney-piece hung the picture of a man. Instinct had told her who it +was, and she stared at him, fascinated. +</P> + +<P> +The other woman had left her the wrong photograph in her hurry. This +was no weak boy with a foolish mouth, bundled over-seas by his people. +This was a man with a steady face that betrayed nothing of himself, and +eyes that held her startled gaze. Blue eyes, audacious and +understanding. Her heart beat strangely. For this must be Barnaby the +reckless, who had married a wife and got himself killed ... and she, +poor fool, was calling herself his widow. +</P> + +<P> +She clung to the chimney-piece, shivering with excitement, a quaint, +slight figure in her white night-dress. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll hurt nobody.... I'll hurt nobody!" she was explaining to him in +an imploring whisper; and it seemed to her that the man in the picture +smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"—There, give it back to me," said Lady Henrietta jealously, and her +voice scattered mists of imagination. "You don't think I'm crazy, do +you? You know why it is I can't stop knitting his stockings.—We'll +not talk about him, Susan. You and I have each our own memories, and +we can't share them.—I don't want yours. But we'll fight for him +together; since he belongs to us." +</P> + +<P> +Her manner took on a sudden fierceness. +</P> + +<P> +"I've not told anybody about you yet," she said. "I've been hugging +the secret for purposes of my own. I am a wicked woman, Susan. Upon +my honour, if you hadn't existed, I'd have been obliged to invent you. +If you hadn't come to me, I'd have searched the world for an imitation, +from end to end. How he would laugh at me!—But we'll not talk about +him—we couldn't bear it. Only we'll fight for him, as I said. We'll +not let his enemies triumph and pretend that they broke his heart." +</P> + +<P> +Her voice was quicker, charged with a passionate haste that hurried the +words out before she could close her lips. +</P> + +<P> +"You little pale thing," she said. "I am not a kissing woman ... but +... oh, you don't know what you are to me. Wait. I'll make you +understand. There's a creature here who behaved shamefully to my boy +... to <I>him</I>. And now he is dead she goes about boasting, claiming him +as her victim, hinting to all who will listen that he killed himself +for love of her. It's not true.... You'll teach them it is not true!" +</P> + +<P> +She stopped, controlling herself. In the hall outside there was the +slight bustle of an arrival, and voices, muffled by distance, came +faintly through. As suddenly as she had spoken, she checked her +outburst of confidence, and picked up her knitting with a terrible +little smile. +</P> + +<P> +"I know who it is that's coming," she said grimly. "A woman, Susan—a +woman who dresses in black, and prates of a misunderstanding." +</P> + +<P> +They came in together, the man blinking a little after his ride in the +twilight, approaching with a stiff gait and clinking spurs; the woman +swimming triumphantly up the room. +</P> + +<P> +"Dear Lady Henrietta!" she murmured, a ready quiver in her emotional +Irish voice. +</P> + +<P> +"How do you do, Julia?" said Lady Henrietta. She had recovered an +extraordinary calm. "Did you and Rackham meet on the doorstep? I am +pleased to see you both." +</P> + +<P> +Her ominous quietness struck the man, more observant. His instinct had +not disappointed him, that was clear; he marked her attitude with an +inward chuckle. Something tremendous was toward. +</P> + +<P> +"You are looking well, Aunt Henrietta," he said politely. "Do you mind +my smoking? We had a tiring day, and I missed my only sandwich." +</P> + +<P> +"Macdonald will look after you," she said. "Make him get you anything +you want." +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks," said Rackham. "I'll have something before I go. I meant to +ask him for a whisky and soda, but he shot us in here.—I thought the +old chap seemed a bit excited." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Lady Henrietta. "They were all so devoted to Barnaby. +Naturally they share my feelings—" She paused significantly, and he +could see that she was watching Julia. "My son has given me a +legacy.... He has left me his wife." +</P> + +<P> +"How sweet of you to put it like that!" said Julia. +</P> + +<P> +She had established herself on the sofa without an instant's delay, +taking figurative possession, too self-absorbed to appreciate any +by-play. Her head was full of the tardy capitulation of her +fellow-mourner, and she, in her own eyes, was the principal figure +here. But Rackham, looking on, all but shouted. +</P> + +<P> +"What?" he said. "Poor old Barnaby! Married? Good Lord! how did it +come about?" +</P> + +<P> +Julia turned round and stared at him. +</P> + +<P> +"Lord Rackham!" she said. "Are you mad?" +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta made a motion with her hand towards the girl sitting in +the background. She could not trust herself to speak to the woman +whose outrageous complacency had survived her blow. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear," she said, "this is your husband's cousin. He gets +everything when I die—things are so wickedly entailed in this +family—except a pittance I mean to scrape up for you. You know I +don't chatter, Rackham. You can understand I didn't care to set the +neighbourhood talking until I had Susan here." +</P> + +<P> +There was no mistaking the triumphant note in her proclamation. +</P> + +<P> +The girl coloured faintly. They were all looking at her now; the +strange woman with a startled face, the man curiously. Some likeness +in him to the picture that hung upstairs troubled her. So Barnaby +might have looked, his dare-devil glance falling on her with a +quizzical compassion. +</P> + +<P> +Rackham's wits were not slow. He crossed over to her side, and took up +his station on the hearthrug, so close to her that his splashed scarlet +coat almost brushed her black sleeve. Barnaby had been dressed like +him in the picture, gallant in hunting clothes. Would Barnaby have +stood by her? For she understood the significance of his action. This +man wanted to be her friend. She trembled a little, wondering why. +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta took no more notice of him than if he had been a vexing +shadow put in his place. His strategic movement was lost on her. +Barnaby's mother, in her thirst to punish, her eagerness in striking +for the sake of her son, had not time to consider that the sword in her +hand was his wife. Her eyes were shining with the fire that had burnt +up her tears, and they were fixed on the enchantress who had wrecked +Barnaby's life, and was trading on his old infatuation, making a bid +for public sympathy by flaunting her forfeited hold on him. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't understand," said Julia, with a gasp. "Barnaby was not +married...." +</P> + +<P> +But she was shaken. Her blank amazement was turning visibly to dismay. +This stroke was so sharp, so inconceivable, that she lost her head, +refusing to believe in the humbling revelation. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a plot!" she cried all at once. "A plot against me. What have I +done to be treated like this? Why should I be insulted?—Everybody +knows that Barnaby and I——" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be an idiot, Julia," said Rackham softly, but it was not his +interruption that stopped her passionate surrender to the Irish-woman's +instinct to have it out with the world. +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps the actress was uppermost in Susan, or perhaps an odd impulse +of loyalty to the dead man whose ring she wore carried her out of +herself. Her heart was hot against the woman who had played fast and +loose with him, and it taught her how one who belonged to Barnaby would +have faced this moment. His wife would not be a coward, would not sit, +a piteous listener, in the background; she had his memory to uphold. +And so she found herself standing up, confronting the stranger in a +proud silence that was more eloquent than reproach. Slowly, without a +word, she moved onwards to leave the room. +</P> + +<P> +"Gad!" said Rackham, under his breath. He liked that. +</P> + +<P> +Something like awe had smitten Julia. She remained a moment +transfixed, staring after her, all exclamation hushed on her reckless +lips. Then, all at once, she followed. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me who you are," she panted hysterically. "It's all nonsense, +isn't it?—It's a sham?" +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta was watching the scene from her sofa, and so was +Rackham, standing with his back to the fire. They were both far off. +It was a swift and dramatic minute. +</P> + +<P> +"His mother hates me," said Julia, half to herself; her hold tightened +on the girl's arm. "She's capable of anything. She—What colour were +his eyes?" +</P> + +<P> +The question was flung at her without warning. But a man's face stood +out distinct in the girl's imagination, haunting her with a clearness +none of these other faces had; smiling whimsically down from his +picture all this while she was letting people proclaim her his.... +Somehow she was defending him, covering his hurt. +</P> + +<P> +Without thinking, without a pause— +</P> + +<P> +"Blue," she said. +</P> + +<P> +The other woman's hand dropped. She let her go. +</P> + +<P> +Susan let the velvet hangings fall heavily behind her as she came +through. A kind of wonder at herself possessed her, and her knees +trembled. Mechanically she traversed the hall, and began to climb the +wide staircase, leaning a little as she went, on the solid oak +balustrade. +</P> + +<P> +On the first landing a window faced the stair, and right and left ran +corridors, interminable, and equally mysterious to the stranger, who +was, in a manner, lost in this unknown house. She sank down on the +window-seat, set deep in the thickness of the wall. +</P> + +<P> +Outside, the sky was dark with a strange red, as of furnaces under the +horizon, glimmering in the west. She could just distinguish the +jutting corner of the more antique part of the house, built as it was +in different centuries, bit by bit. That side was strangely ornamented +with mediæval figures—the images of ancient warriors, all battered and +weather-stained. And the land they had won was quiet, lying half +asleep; only the trees still restless as night came on. +</P> + +<P> +She turned her face. In front of her gleamed the shallow stair, +running straight into the hall below, and all the way down hung +pictures, men and women who had lived in this house, and trod the +stairs, hurrying, lagging, or perhaps clinging, as she had in her +weakness clung to the balustrade. Some were ill-painted, some stared +wickedly; but all of them were watching. There was history in their +eyes. +</P> + +<P> +The girl felt a queer fellowship with the still procession; she, whose +only title among them was make-believe. Perhaps, in forgotten times, +her own people had fought and loved and ridden side by side with these, +and their descendant had come back to a friend's house. How good it +would be to let the world go on, to walk in a dream always, and not +struggle any more. +</P> + +<P> +She thought, with a remote disdain, of the scene downstairs. Her heart +was still beating quickly; but that gripping sense of the theatre had +left her. And she knew she had conquered. Barnaby's memory was safe +from the woman his mother hated. One could imagine her claim +collapsing, one could hear her voluble excuse, pleading bewilderment, +accepting the situation—with perhaps a plaintive expression of her +relief in knowing she was, after all, not as guilty as gossip said—had +Lady Henrietta heard the dreadful rumours? And Barnaby's mother would +smile at the thrust with victory in her soul, while the man, his +cousin, would look on, smothering his chuckle, with his head on one +side like a magpie, and a splash of mud that had dried on his cheek. +</P> + +<P> +It was his step she heard first as they came out into the hall. He and +Julia were leaving together, she talking fast. Her voice, charged with +subdued excitement, rose and fell on a singing note. What she was +saying did not reach up the stairs; only its contralto music. The +sound of it awakened Susan in her mood of overwrought exaltation. +Reality came back to her with a shock. She remembered another voice as +warm, as emotional, with the same theatrical tune of tears; and she +remembered the dangerous charity that had mocked her opposition. +Stripped of its fantastic mist of adventure, she looked at her own +story, and was ashamed. Her very scorn of the woman against whom she +had been pitted turned on herself and scorched her, ranking her as low. +She and Julia—no, she could not bear to be judged with Julia. The +romantic sophistry that had comforted her was gone, and nothing could +stay her desperate longing to be honest. +</P> + +<P> +They passed underneath. Rackham was helping Julia into her furs, was +hunting for her muff, with his face to the stair. The girl above held +her breath. His nearness affected her with a kind of panic. +</P> + +<P> +She had an intuition that he was the kind of man who would—guess. She +thought of his quick movement to her side, his presumptuous readiness +to stand by her, unspoken but unmistakable, with an unexplained alarm. +Would they never go? Why did he loiter, looking upwards with that +inexplicable smile? +</P> + +<P> +As the great door shut, at last, on a silence, she sprang up and went +downstairs. It was a pity she was not stronger. One should not go to +be judged with a tottering step. And she would want all her courage. +Knowing the spirit in which Barnaby's mother had dealt with Julia, she +did not look for mercy. +</P> + +<P> +But Lady Henrietta was not sitting upright and watchful, with that look +of ruthlessness stamped on her thin, hard, pretty face. She had thrown +herself across the sofa, her fast-knitting fingers idle, the +half-finished stocking that would never be worn fallen from her hand to +the floor. She lay like a broken reed; deprived of the motive that had +sustained her—and she was crying. +</P> + +<P> +That sight stirred all the heart in Susan. She ran to her blindly, +only conscious of a great compassion that shamed her selfish terror of +the weight of a lie. She could not tell her ... now. +</P> + +<P> +And Barnaby's mother looked up at her approach. Something of the old +defiant jauntiness came back to her for a minute. She tried to laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"Come here and kiss me," she called. There was a fierce tenderness in +her cry—"you darling—!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III +</H3> + +<P> +Susan had flung from her with both hands the imprudent longing to cry +out her story. +</P> + +<P> +Somehow she felt that if she spoke now she would be a traitor. It was +too late to look back; for good or ill she had changed places with the +other woman who would not come. To fail now would not be to clear her +honour, it would be to desert her post. +</P> + +<P> +When Lady Henrietta, having triumphed, had given way at last, and had +clung to Susan, the girl, gathered in that fierce clasp, had known that +Barnaby's mother took passionate comfort in her only because the +stranger was something that had belonged to him. To deny her that +comfort would be to rob one who had nothing left. Could she, by a +wistful life of devotion, justify herself, not in the sight of man, not +to hard judges—but perhaps to this Barnaby who was dead, and who would +surely understand? Keeping silent, she promised him that she would. +</P> + +<P> +Day after day passed over her head, building an unsteady wall between +her and that pitiless outside world in which she had been like a driven +leaf, without hope or foothold. She became accustomed to the lazy +peace of the house, to the watchful offices of the old servants, who +seemed, like Lady Henrietta herself, curiously proud of her. +</P> + +<P> +Slowly she grew stronger; her thin cheek rounded, still pale, but +touched with a faint promise of colour. +</P> + +<P> +One afternoon she was taking her solitary walk in the park, and had +wandered farther than she had been. The dogs had left her, scurrying +after rabbits, and she leaned on a stile that offered a resting-place, +a little tired and wistful, gazing at the sinking fire in the west. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly the air was quick with galloping, and all around her were +jumping horses. Startled, but unafraid, she watched them coming over +the hedge, imagining that as they came they would vanish. +</P> + +<P> +"You shouldn't stay there, you might get hurt," called someone, pulling +up at her side. "How are you?" +</P> + +<P> +She had been looking on, as one would look at a gallant picture, not +realizing that she was in its midst. Instinctively she drew back. All +had stopped, and hounds were clustering in the bottom, where the +huntsman had dismounted, and was peering into a drain. Many heads were +turned, with a rough kindness that excused curiosity, in her direction. +Perhaps they were all Barnaby's comrades, who missed him, and saw in +the pathetic figure one who was missing him more than they... +</P> + +<P> +But the man who had drawn up beside her was leaning down to her like an +old friend, barring out the rest with his shoulder. His horse, still +excited, jerked at his bit, and flung a white flick of lather on her +black dress. Without thinking, she stretched out her hand to his +muzzle. +</P> + +<P> +"Take care. He's an uncertain brute," said Rackham. "You like horses?" +</P> + +<P> +"I used to ride," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Something awoke in her at that velvet touch, and she could not finish, +thinking of other horses. +</P> + +<P> +"Good," he said quickly. "Tell you what. I have a mare that would +carry you. I'll come and talk it over—if my aunt will let me in." +</P> + +<P> +He laughed a little under his breath at that. "How do you get on with +her?" he asked. "<I>She's</I> a warrior—!" +</P> + +<P> +Susan lifted her eyes to his face. His abrupt friendliness could not +entirely conquer the fluttering apprehension of danger in his +good-nature that made her unaccountably shy of him. There was +commiseration in his look—and admiration. +</P> + +<P> +"Look here," he said; "we're cousins—by marriage. I've some warrant +to be officious—and you're alone in a strange land, aren't you?—and +all that." +</P> + +<P> +Was it her imagination, or did he drop his voice significantly? +Perhaps he was glancing at their first meeting, pitying her as a reed +bruised in Lady Henrietta's warlike hands. Perhaps—no, she could not +read his expression. +</P> + +<P> +The huntsman straightened his back, and walked stiffly towards his +horse. A man who was giving up passed by and gravely took off his hat; +she watched him hooking with his whip at the bridle gate. She was +afraid that they would all ride off and leave her with Barnaby's +kinsman, and his penetrating smile. +</P> + +<P> +"Anyhow," said Rackham, "I'm here if you want backing.... Just let me +know if you need any kind of help." +</P> + +<P> +A scream on the hidden side of the spinney beneath them linked up the +field, believing in one of the glorious surprises that light up the +dragging end of the day. The huntsman pushed right through the misty +tangle, calling on his hounds, and the riders disappeared like a +swirling river. A minute and they were gone. +</P> + +<P> +The girl listened breathlessly to the thudding of distant hoofs. Her +heart beat a little too fast, disturbed by that brief interlude of +excitement. She stood quite still until the last gleam of scarlet +faded, and the galloping died away, leaving a tremendous quiet. There +was no sound at last but the wildfowl, far away on the lake, beginning +their sunset chaunt. +</P> + +<P> +Half the household had rushed out to look for hounds, and were +returning singly, more or less out of breath, as the girl came home. +It was astonishing what a commotion the hunt, in its passing, had +awakened in that sad household. Lady Henrietta herself, with a shawl +on her head, was in the garden, peering. Her sporting instincts were +struggling in her with a kind of rage. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me who were out," she said. "Oh, of course you can't. But +<I>they</I> would know who you are. I am glad they saw you. It would +remind some of them—a man is so soon forgotten! To think of them all +hunting and fooling just as they used; with him left out—! Did they +run from Tilton? I don't suppose a man of them wasted a thought on him +till they saw you there. Did they change foxes, Susan?" +</P> + +<P> +She talked on eagerly, answering herself with conjecture as she hurried +the girl into the warm house, out of the gathering rain. Macdonald, +the butler, was better informed than she, and his mistress seized on +him as he slipped in, wiping his brow, short-winded but triumphant. He +it was who had holloaed the fox away. +</P> + +<P> +"Come here and tell me all about it," said Lady Henrietta sharply. +"—At your age, Macdonald—!" +</P> + +<P> +He approached with solemnity, remembering his dignity, and his +rheumatism, an inextinguishable light in his eye. +</P> + +<P> +"They ran from Owston, my lady, and lost the fox on yon side of our +bottom spinney. He must have been about done, by the way scent failed, +and they couldn't pick him up again for the gentlemen crowding forrard. +No, my lady, there was two sticks crossed in the earth—and the +drainpipe clogged. But we found 'em one that'll take them a sight +farther than some of them care to go. A real fine fox that was!" He +wound up with real pride. +</P> + +<P> +"And who was that on the bay?" asked Lady Henrietta. "He took the +fence well, Macdonald." +</P> + +<P> +"That was his Lordship," allowed Macdonald, but grudgingly. "Ah, my +lady, I seen Mr. Barnaby take that very jump that day they killed their +fox in the park. Clean and fine he went up, and lighted; he never +smashed no top rail!" +</P> + +<P> +"I know—I know," said Lady Henrietta. "The day he put out his +shoulder." +</P> + +<P> +"That was a rabbit hole," said Macdonald jealously. "Ah, my lady, his +Lordship will never go like him!" +</P> + +<P> +Dismissing Rackham with the scorn of an old servant staunch to his +master, he shook his head mournfully and retreated. Lady Henrietta had +turned abruptly from her cross-examination, and held out her hands to +the fire. +</P> + +<P> +The incident, slight as it was, and brief, coloured all their evening. +Afterwards, Lady Henrietta returned to the subject, amusing herself +with surmises. Had Susan noticed a man with a grizzled moustache and a +furtive eye?—and another who had a trick of jerking out his +elbow?—and one who rode like a jack-in-the-box, starting up +continually in his stirrups? And had she seen a woman in brown, who +usually backed in under the hedge at a check, talking secrets with a +lank man, her shadow,—and all unwitting that there were two sides to +hedges, and that voices filtered through? Insensibly, she branched +into reminiscence, telling caustic histories of these Leicestershire +unworthies, who were all unknown to Susan; and the girl hardly +listened, sitting with her cheek on her hand and a dreaming brow. +</P> + +<P> +The short interlude had impressed her. But in imagination she saw, not +the splendid figure that had crashed over the hedge down yonder,—but +another, one silently haunting the dim pastures where he had ridden +once, sweeping out of the dusk, and passing into the dusk again. The +swift scene came back to her, with its wild rush of life, hounds, and +horsemen,—only, instead of his cousin, she pictured Barnaby, to whose +memory she had dedicated herself. +</P> + +<P> +It was wearing late. Soon Lady Henrietta would interrupt herself, +breaking off with a remorseful brusqueness, and order her off to bed. +How quiet it was in the library, that vast, comfortable room! How safe +she felt, and how sleepy, only dreaming, not thinking of anything. +</P> + +<P> +The white fox-terrier with the bitten ear had stolen down to her and +lay on her skirt. There was a kind of fellowship between her and the +dog. When it jumped up all at once with a shiver she stroked its back +softly, wondering why it alone was excited by the wind whistling +outside the house. And it looked up in her face and scuttled like a +thing possessed down the room. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter with Kit?" said Lady Henrietta, pausing.—"I daresay +she heard Macdonald shutting up in the hall."—And she went on talking. +</P> + +<P> +Far down the room the heavy curtain swung hastily, and fell back. It +was Susan who, without warning, lifted her eyes and saw somebody +standing there. +</P> + +<P> +He had walked right in out of the wind and rain, had flung off his +dripping cap, but had not waited to unbutton his greatcoat; and he +looked as he had looked in his picture, but no ghost—real,—with +dreadful blue eyes, and a smiling mouth. +</P> + +<P> +The girl started to her feet. One wild moment she stared at him. Her +own cry sounded strange in her ears, very far off ... and then the +world went round. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Slowly she drifted back into consciousness, and she was lying on her +bed, surrounded by fluttered women, whose amazed whispering reached her +like the dim clamour in a dream. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor thing; poor thing—it was too much for her." "It was wicked of +Mr. Barnaby to startle her like that. But how like him——!" +</P> + +<P> +"Lord, Lord! his face as she lay on the floor!—and his mother rating +him as if he'd never been dead an hour——!" +</P> + +<P> +"'You've killed her!' said she. 'You've killed her!'" +</P> + +<P> +"Like as not she'll go out of her mind, poor lamb!" +</P> + +<P> +The quavering excitement hushed suddenly as she stirred. +</P> + +<P> +"Hold your noise, you!" the old housekeeper adjured the others, pushing +them on one side, and patting her anxiously, promising something in a +voice that shook, tremulous and coaxing,—as one might dangle the moon +to quiet a frantic child. +</P> + +<P> +Up the long corridor came a man's step, and the pattering of a dog. +The housekeeper jumped, and ran from the bedside, and the maids clung +hysterically together, looking with a scared eagerness at the door. A +superstitious terror was still painted on their faces. +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby was not dead. The whole dreadful comedy was scarcely clear to +the girl, so dizzy was she with this one miracle, the thing that was +impossible, and was true. Shame had not yet burnt up wonder. She lay +motionless, with her hands on her heart, listening to his step, and +waiting for the sound of a voice that she had never heard. +</P> + +<P> +"How is she?" +</P> + +<P> +Oh strange, kind voice, asking that! Susan caught her breath, +remembering who she was not. +</P> + +<P> +The housekeeper, running out, had closed the door nervously, and was +posted with her back against it, half in a rapture, and half +reproachful. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Mr. Barnaby—! Oh, my gracious!" +</P> + +<P> +Collecting herself, she went on in a trembling hurry. +</P> + +<P> +"She's come round at last; she's come to herself;—but the doctor says +we must keep her quiet. You can't come in, sir! It might do harm. He +said so before he went to my lady.... I daren't let you in, Mr. +Barnaby.... Please! ... I've told her you'll come to her in the +morning ... and I was to give you her love." +</P> + +<P> +The girl started up, horror-stricken, and fell back on the bed, +covering her face. Would nothing silence that foolish tongue, inspired +by its ill-judged haste to pacify the presumed impatience of the man +who had done the mischief? Through the guarded door, through her shut +eyes, Susan had a scorching vision of Barnaby, the stranger, listening +to that brazen message. And between her convulsive fingers she heard +the old servant babbling on.... No, after that, she could not bear to +look him in the face! +</P> + +<P> +Panic seized her. It grew upon her as she lay quiescent, enduring the +ministrations of sympathizers who would have scorned to touch her if +they had known. Barnaby had not spoken. He had not said to them, "She +is an impostor." He was letting them pity her, handle her gently ... +till to-morrow. +</P> + +<P> +They had given her something to make her sleep, but the draught was +impotent; instead of soothing, it was exciting a strange confusion in +her head. She got out of bed at last, hearing nothing but somewhere in +her room the heavy breathing of a dozing watcher. Slowly at first, and +then quicker, as the impulse took hold of her, she began struggling +into her clothes. She must go, she must go; she could not stay in this +house. +</P> + +<P> +Driven by her panic, that could not think, could not reason, she set +her desperate foot on the stair. +</P> + +<P> +The lights were not out in the hall below; they shimmered faintly as +she passed like a shadow towards the door. If someone should come—! +Feverishly she tried to undo the bar; the latch was very heavy. Her +heart beat so loud that she was deaf to all other noises. +</P> + +<P> +She did not know that she was not alone till a hand was laid on her +shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +She turned round, shaking from head to foot, leaning against the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, let me go!" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +He looked at her gravely. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid we're neither of us real," he said. "Let's try not to +scare each other.... They tell me that you're my widow." +</P> + +<P> +She turned her face from him. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't look at me. Oh, don't look at me! Let me go," she repeated +wildly. +</P> + +<P> +His fingers closed over hers, still fumbling at the bar. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think I can do that," he said. "The doctor blames me for +frightening you out of your life. He'd hold me responsible if I let +you rush out of my house in the middle of the night like this. If you +don't mind I'll ask you not to make me out a worse fool than I've been +already. And—you aren't going to faint again, are you? Sit down a +minute——" +</P> + +<P> +His arm went round her quickly; he had unloosed her hands from the +door, and put her into a chair by the fire, before she was sure that +she had not fainted. She leant her whirling head against the packed +red cushions. +</P> + +<P> +"They gave me something to make me sleep...." she murmured. +</P> + +<P> +He stood a little way off on the hearthrug, watching her. Kit, the +terrier, lay down suddenly between them, as if it had him safe. +</P> + +<P> +"How did you know me?" he said abruptly. +</P> + +<P> +"There is a picture of you," she said; "and I—thought of you so often." +</P> + +<P> +The man who had been dismissed so lightly from his world looked down +with a queer expression. He could not doubt the utter unconsciousness +in the tired young voice. She had nothing to hope for. She was being +judged. +</P> + +<P> +"In the name of Heaven, why——?" he burst out, checking himself too +late for, the girl stood up and faced him, calling up all her courage. +</P> + +<P> +"Because I am a shameless wretch," she cried unsteadily. "A liar and +an impostor.... You don't ask a thief why he has robbed you. You send +him to prison.... You don't laugh at him...." +</P> + +<P> +"You child!" said Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +The strange, kind note in his voice broke down her desperation. +Somehow, she found herself stammering out the story of her Southern +childhood; the brave old family ruined by the war; the last of them +dying, the last friend gone, and she left undefended, to fight for +herself in the world. Not strong enough to nurse the sick, not hard +enough to win her way in business; driven to try if she could live by +her one poor gift of acting;—what could she do but catch at the +happy-go-lucky kindness that had flung salvation to her? +</P> + +<P> +"I could have died..." she said, scorning herself; "but I ... came." +</P> + +<P> +"Hush!" said the man softly, all at once, turning round to meet +interruption. The doctor was coming downstairs, deliberately, as +became an all-wise and elderly dictator, peering short-sightedly into +the hall below. +</P> + +<P> +"Bless my soul!" he said. "Barnaby, you villain, she's not fit to be +talking to you. I warned the servants it was as much as their lives +were worth to let you go near her;—and look at this!" +</P> + +<P> +He shook his head at them both, but relented, with his fingers on +Susan's pulse. His professional knowledge of woman mitigated his +surprise at her quick recovery. Some women could bear anything, after +the first shock of pain or joy. +</P> + +<P> +"Good," he said. "Since you're awake, and in your right mind, which I +had hardly dared to hope for,—I'll send you up to Lady Henrietta. She +has been calling for you. Just sit beside her, and tell her very +quietly, over and over again, how Barnaby looks, and all that. I can't +risk her seeing him yet;—her age isn't so elastic,—and nothing will +satisfy her but you." +</P> + +<P> +Instinctively the girl moved to obey, and stopped. Would Barnaby let +her go to his mother? As far as she could understand—it was still +stranger than a dream—he had not yet proclaimed her an impostor. But +surely the time was come. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," said the doctor, following her look; "your husband must do +without you." +</P> + +<P> +And then Barnaby spoke. +</P> + +<P> +"You're a bit hard on us, doctor," he said. "We had a lot to say to +each other. But my wife and I can finish our talk to-morrow."—His +voice, as he turned to her, lost its humorous note and became grave. +"Go up to my mother,—please." +</P> + +<P> +She went. The doctor watched her go, and, shaking off a certain +perplexity, addressed himself to the younger man. Old friend of the +family that he was, his gruff manner poorly hid his emotion. +</P> + +<P> +"Good heavens, man!" he said. "I can't get accustomed to you. Shake +hands again, will you? I want to feel positive you are not a spook." +</P> + +<P> +"What about my mother?" asked Barnaby. He too had been watching the +girl go slowly up the stairs. +</P> + +<P> +"She'll be all right, if we can keep her quiet," said the doctor +cheerfully. "But she can't afford to have any more shocks. Her heart +is bad. You didn't know that, of course. She is a courageous lady, +and has taken all your vagaries gallantly up to now, but this has been +a bit too sudden. If it hadn't been for your wife's collapse +distracting her attention for the moment, taking her mind off the +greater shock——" +</P> + +<P> +He broke off there. +</P> + +<P> +"How the devil was I to know?" burst out the other man. "I had no +notion that I was dead." +</P> + +<P> +"Hadn't you heard——?" +</P> + +<P> +"How should I? Look here, doctor, I haven't been sulking in +civilization; racketing in cities. I've been roughing it, going up and +down in the earth.—There wasn't much use in writing letters. I told +my mother I would turn up again some day, and she wasn't to be +surprised. I did send her a line, now and then, the last of them a +greasy scrawl in a mining camp, where there was one bit of paper among +the lot of us, and I won it. She can't have got that.... When I had +worked the restlessness out of my blood—some fellows can't manage +that, it takes them all their lives—I had a fancy to come home and +walk into the old place as if I had never left it.... It's simple +enough——!" +</P> + +<P> +He was bending forward, stammering a little in his excitement. +Suddenly he laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"By George!" he said. "So that was why the porters fled from me at +John o' Gaunt!" +</P> + +<P> +The old man surveyed him anxiously, wiping his glasses. +</P> + +<P> +Often one heard of men who, seized by a thirst for adventure in the +rough, or unbalanced by passion and disappointment, had thrown up +everything familiar and dropped out, to savour the hard realities of +life. Sometimes they reappeared, sometimes only peculiar stories +drifted to their old set about them, and those who might know were +dumb. He felt a most irrational alarm, an impulse to hold fast to this +prodigal. +</P> + +<P> +"You'll not vanish again?" he said hastily. "You won't want to roam in +search of adventures now you have a wife to take care of." +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby stretched out for a cigarette and lit it. There had always +been a box of them in one corner of the chimney-piece. It did not +strike him as odd that he should find them there. +</P> + +<P> +"Have a smoke, doctor," he said. "It'll steady your nerves a bit.... +Yes, I'm sobered." +</P> + +<P> +He halted a minute, and the terrier at his feet, remembering an old +trick he had taught her, sprang up and blew out the match. As he +stooped to caress her, she began licking him furiously. There had been +some other trick, but she had forgotten that. She made a clumsy effort +to keep his attention by crossing her paws and waving them, which was +how it had begun.... +</P> + +<P> +"Good dog," he said, and she dropped at his feet, proud of her +cleverness, though grudging his notice to the doctor. +</P> + +<P> +"You're right there," he went on, as if the thought amused him. "A man +is a fool to go tramping over the world, searching for adventures, when +they come to him on his own hearth." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta lay propped high with pillows, talking fast. +</P> + +<P> +"I want Susan!" she complained. "Bring me Susan. The doctor shan't +put me off with his opiates. I can't trust any of you but Susan." +</P> + +<P> +And the girl came faltering into the room. +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta caught her hand, nipping it tight in hers. +</P> + +<P> +"Susan, my child," she said. "What a little cold hand you've got! +They're hushing me as if I was a lunatic, humouring me with tales. And +my heart's so funny. I can feel it misbehaving.... I'll die if they +make me angry. Come here, closer. I want to ask you—<I>you</I> won't tell +me comfortable lies.—Has Barnaby come back?" +</P> + +<P> +"He has come back," said Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you deceiving me?" whispered Lady Henrietta. "Are you in league +with the doctor?—I sent old Dawson out there, you know, and he said +the report was true.... He saw the boy's grave. He put up a stone.... +And the lawyers came croaking together like ravens, and swore there +wasn't a scrap of doubt.... And Rackham stepped into his shoes, and I +made them search for you high and low!—Oh! no, it's not true! I am +wandering in my mind. Look at me. You and I couldn't cheat each +other. Let me see it in your face!" +</P> + +<P> +But Susan could not. She dropped her head over the hand clasping hers +so fiercely, and her unstrung nerves gave way; she could not keep from +sobbing. +</P> + +<P> +Strangely enough, her crying seemed to soothe Lady Henrietta. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, you never used to cry like that!" she said. "He has come." She +stroked the girl's hair with her other hand. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose they'll let me see him in the morning," she said rationally. +"He will be asleep now, poor boy. He shall come up to me when he has +had his breakfast, and pour out his ridiculous adventures. They must +give him devilled bacon. Margaret, Margaret, stop snivelling, and +remind them to give him devilled bacon. Keep holding my hand, Susan, +and don't cry so. We have got him back." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV +</H3> + +<P> +The dim light was already struggling in through the curtains before +Lady Henrietta dropped off to sleep, quieted. Susan dared not withdraw +her hand. Her arm grew stiff, ached awhile, and was numb; her head +slid against the pillow, and her eyes shut at last. +</P> + +<P> +She awakened with a start to hear Lady Henrietta's laugh, weak but +natural, and a man's exclamation, sharp and pitiful, above her. +</P> + +<P> +"Take her away, Barnaby, and give her her breakfast," his mother was +ordering. "Didn't you see her? The poor child has been sitting up +holding my hand like that the livelong night. I was clean off my +head.... I might have known you'd behave like this. Oh, I can bear +the sight of you now; don't be nervous; I'm not one of those +sentimental mothers—! But since I've taken to heart attacks I have to +be treated with circumspection"—she desisted a minute in her rapid +effort to disguise emotion:—"Barnaby, I am obliged to you for—for +<I>her</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"You're fond of her, are you, mother?" said Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta laughed at him, amused at his queer intonation. +</P> + +<P> +"Fond?" she cried. "I adore her. The first minute I saw her, a little +pale wisp in her widow's weeds, I adored her. She isn't your style at +all, you puzzle. You used to admire a more lavish figure.... I can't +understand it in the least; but I'm thankful. And that reminds me you +must take her up to London immediately, and have her put into proper +clothes." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I say——" Barnaby was beginning. She took the words out of his +mouth. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it's your business," she said. "We can't have her going about in +black; it denies your existence—! and you look like a battered scamp +yourself. You'll have to go to your tailor. If you want any money +I'll write you a cheque.... They won't honour yours while you're +dead.... Wake her up now, and take her away to breakfast—and take +care of her if you can!" +</P> + +<P> +He bent down and touched her arm, and she lifted her head, still dazed, +and stood up from her cramped position. +</P> + +<P> +"Run away," said Lady Henrietta. "Run away, you two. I am going to +wash my face." +</P> + +<P> +She kissed her hand to them as they went through the door, and, in +spite of herself, her lip quivered. She lay quite still for a minute, +raging at herself. +</P> + +<P> +"Quiet!" she muttered. "Quiet! It's nothing to die about, stupid +heart!" +</P> + +<P> +Downstairs the servants were all hovering, lying in wait, and watching +for a glimpse of the master. Macdonald himself had drawn two +arm-chairs beside a small table by the fire, and unwillingly, but +discreetly, took himself off and closed the door behind him. +</P> + +<P> +"Sit down," said Barnaby gently. "I'll pour out your tea. You must +want it." +</P> + +<P> +She let him do as he would, accepting her cup at his hands, drinking +obediently, trying to eat; patient, but not at all understanding him. +The winter sun streamed in red, shining in her hair, making lights in +its curling darkness; it even lent a fictitious pink to her cheek as +she sat, so soberly, facing the man in whose house she was, whose ring +was on her finger. When she turned her head a little the glimmer died. +Irrelevantly—why should the thing strike him then?—he likened her +paleness to the creamy tint of the hawthorn blossom, warm, and smoother +than the wintry white of the sloe. She had been ill, too; she was very +fragile. +</P> + +<P> +All the while she dared hardly glance at him, though she knew that he +was regarding her, not with the righteous wrath of a swindled Briton +whose house was his castle, but with a strange expression that, less +comprehensible, was little less alarming. The situation seemed to +amuse him.... And it was like a scene in a play; intimate, domestic, +and yet unreal. They were obliged to sit so close at the confidential +little table, with its clinking china, and its neighbouring row of +silver dishes keeping warm in the fender.... She had a wild fancy that +if she thrust her hand in that fire that leapt and crackled so +naturally it would not burn. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said suddenly. "What's to be done?" +</P> + +<P> +He had risen and come round to her side; the little delay was over. +They had finished breakfast.... +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," she said. "I am at your mercy." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mind if I smoke?" +</P> + +<P> +His matter-of-fact politeness, as he waited with the cigarette unlit +between his fingers, provoked in her a fugitive smile. +</P> + +<P> +"There!" he said. "You are beginning to see the funny side of it too, +as I do. A man who has knocked about the world as I have doesn't +bluster like a Pharisee and a brute, unless he is mad,—or angry. What +on earth could I do to you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Are you not—angry?" she asked faintly. +</P> + +<P> +"Not exactly," said Barnaby. "I am rather astonished at your pluck. +Of course, it was frightfully dangerous, and you have got us both into +a hole.—I'm not going to preach at you——" +</P> + +<P> +He hesitated a little. +</P> + +<P> +"You know," he said. "I'm an awfully prudent chap, but once or twice +in my life I have lost my head. When I went to America three years +ago, I was only fit to be clapped into a strait-waistcoat. Of course, +I did the first mad thing that came into my head." +</P> + +<P> +There was a touch of some old bitterness in his voice then, and a sort +of retrospective contempt. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a grim fact, that," he said. "It can't be got over. I don't +know what possessed me;—but there <I>was</I> a marriage." +</P> + +<P> +"She is very beautiful," said Susan, uttering her own wandering +thought. She did not know why. +</P> + +<P> +"Who?" said Barnaby. "Oh,—yes. She was like somebody I knew." +</P> + +<P> +There was silence between them. Then the man laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"It was one of those unaccountable acts of temporary madness," he said. +"We're all guilty of such at times. Did she tell you why we fell out? +How she mistook me for a sort of prince in disguise, and turned on me +afterwards, as furious as I was—disillusioned? Don't let's talk about +that. We have our own problem to consider." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said the girl, catching her breath. +</P> + +<P> +"I am afraid," he said gravely, "we must keep it up for a bit." +</P> + +<P> +"I—don't—understand," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"It's the only thing to do," he said. "Look at it fairly. Since the +lady who married me sent you over as her substitute, she can't complain +if I should acknowledge you as my wife. It injures nobody.—Don't +mistake me!" +</P> + +<P> +For the girl had sprung to her feet, and was gazing at him with horror +in her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait!" he said. "I'm not one of these talking fellows.—Perhaps I'm +not putting it clearly. As far as I can make out, the doctor believes +another shock on the top of this one might possibly kill my mother. +She's not to be worried or contradicted. I can't go to her and tell +her, 'That girl you are so fond of is an impostor. I've turned her out +of the house,' seriously, how could I? And do you imagine she'd be +contented with any excuse I could make to her for your disappearance? +I can't risk it. You wouldn't want me to risk it. Come, you owe her a +little consideration——!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh—!" she cried. "Yes"—but still she trembled. +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby smiled down on her encouragingly. Apparently,—after that one +quick word that had hushed her outcry,—he was unconscious of +misconstruction. +</P> + +<P> +"Besides," he said, "there will be row enough in the papers over my +reappearance. I couldn't stand them getting hold of this. Good Lord! +It would make us a laughing-stock." +</P> + +<P> +"I am—sorry," she said, in a broken voice. Barnaby dropped his own. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be sorry," he said. "Be a brave girl, and let's keep it to +ourselves." +</P> + +<P> +Her heart jumped and stood still. She looked at him like some wild +thing caught in a trap, without hope or help, crying its uttermost +defiance. +</P> + +<P> +And the man understood. His eyes looked straight into hers, blue and +earnest, no longer careless. +</P> + +<P> +"If I trust you," he said, "you must trust my honour. Please +understand that I am a gentleman. We'll play our farce to stalls and +the gallery, and when the curtain is down we'll treat each other with +the most profound respect." +</P> + +<P> +She tried to speak and could not. His voice softened. +</P> + +<P> +"There's nothing else to be done," he said. "It won't be so hard on +you;—you're an actress. And we'll find a way out, somehow. Perhaps, +in a month or two, I can manage to have important business in +America——" +</P> + +<P> +She caught at that. +</P> + +<P> +"And take me with you and drop me somewhere—?" she suggested. +</P> + +<P> +"Take you with me and drop you somewhere?" he repeated. "Exactly. We +must think it over." +</P> + +<P> +"I could get killed in a railway accident—anything!" she said, in an +eager, breathless voice. +</P> + +<P> +"How accommodating!" said Barnaby. "There, that's settled. To my +mother, and all outsiders, we'll be the most ordinary couple; but in +private it shall be Sir and Madam. Shake hands on it, and promise me +you'll play up." +</P> + +<P> +He took her hands, the one with his ring on, the other bare. And Susan +looked up at him, and was not afraid any more. She felt safe, and yet +reckless;—almost as if she did not care at all how it ended, as if +nothing were too dangerous, too adventurous for her to promise him. +</P> + +<P> +"Right," he said. "And it's comedy, not tragedy, we're playing. We +mustn't forget that." +</P> + +<P> +"No," she said uncertainly; but she was not so sure. +</P> + +<P> +"And now I'm going round to the stables," he said, changing his tone. +But he turned back again on his way to the door. +</P> + +<P> +"What am I to call you?" he asked. "The other lady had a string of +fine-sounding names. Which of them do you go by?" +</P> + +<P> +She coloured. His question smote her with the strangeness of their +compact. +</P> + +<P> +"Only one," she said, "and that was my own. I asked your mother to +call me Susan." +</P> + +<P> +"Susan," he said to himself. "Susan ... I'll remember." +</P> + +<P> +She took one impetuous step towards him as he was going out. +</P> + +<P> +"How good you are to me," she cried unsteadily. "Oh, how good you are!" +</P> + +<P> +But Barnaby shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor child," he said briefly. "I hope you'll always think I was good +to you." +</P> + +<P> +And he went out of the house whistling to himself. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +"What shocking writing!" said Lady Henrietta, "and how blotted! Who's +your illiterate correspondent?" +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby had stuffed his letter into his breast-pocket as he walked +across the room. +</P> + +<P> +"Julia," he said shortly. +</P> + +<P> +As if upon second thoughts, he felt for it again, pulled it out, and +tossed it into the fire. Its agitated, irregular lines started out +black on the burning pages. Susan, who was sitting on the velvet curb, +turned away her face that she might not read. +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta, frail but indomitable, throned upon her sofa, eyed her +son jealously. +</P> + +<P> +"How did she know so quickly?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"She heard it from somebody, I suppose," said Barnaby. "Why, mother, +do you imagine a real live ghost can visit Leicestershire without the +whole county hearing? ... She wants me to go over and show myself." +</P> + +<P> +"You're not going?"—her tone was sharp. +</P> + +<P> +"No," he said. "I'll tell her I am under contract to exhibit myself +exclusively at a music-hall.—And besides, I have to run up to London. +I want to give old Dawson the fright he deserves. He must have been in +a frantic hurry to wipe me out of his books. What on earth made you +choose him to hunt for me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Take Susan with you," said Lady Henrietta. "Go with him, my child, +and don't let him out of your sight." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think she would like it," said Barnaby, doubtfully, but his +mother was not to be gainsaid. It was almost as if the mention of +Julia had revived a vague apprehension in her, as if she were afraid to +let him go by himself. He submitted, laughing. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said, "if you'll lend her your fur coat I'll wrap her in +that and take her. We'll go up in the morning and come down at +five;—and she can amuse herself getting clothes." +</P> + +<P> +He bent down to Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"If you don't mind," he said, half in a whisper; his tone was +apologetic. "I think you had better come." +</P> + +<P> +And so they went up together. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +In the train he supplied her with an armful of picture papers, and she +studied them gravely, hidden from him behind their outstretched pages, +till they reached London, when she had to put down her screen. Once +only he interrupted her. +</P> + +<P> +"Look at that," he said. +</P> + +<P> +The train was swinging on, making up time between Kettering and Luton; +the letters danced as he held out his open newspaper, with a finger on +the place. Its heading stared at her—"A LEICESTERSHIRE ROMANCE." +</P> + +<P> +"That," said Barnaby, and his eyes twinkled—he had put away +seriousness—"is all about you and me." +</P> + +<P> +She did not see any more pictures after that, only bits of what she had +read before he took back his paper and, turning over the crackling +sheet, settled into his corner. Whatever she tried to look at, she saw +only the printed column proclaiming the dramatic return of a well-known +sportsman supposed to be dead; and at the bottom, where his thumb had +pressed the paper, a touching reference to the subject's beautiful +American wife.... +</P> + +<P> +At St. Pancras he put her carefully into a hansom and got in beside her. +</P> + +<P> +"Now," he said, "this is our dress rehearsal. First, we must see about +your theatrical wardrobe; that's the expression, isn't it? I'm going +to take you to the woman my mother goes to, and while she is rigging +you out I'll cut away to my lawyers, and see my own tailor; and then I +shall fetch you and we'll have lunch. We shall have to get accustomed +to each other." +</P> + +<P> +Driving through the streets with him was curiously exhilarating. +Perhaps her spirit was responsive to a reaction. After all, she was +young.... If Barnaby knew, and did not condemn her, might she not for +a short while dare to be light-hearted—leave the weight of it on his +shoulders? +</P> + +<P> +London had become a city of enchantment. She had passed through in the +care of Lady Henrietta's messenger, at the end of her journey over the +sea; and then she had felt tired and frightened, and she had looked +listlessly out of the cab windows, thinking that if Fate betrayed her, +she might find herself wandering friendless in these very streets. Now +the dark ways were gilded.... +</P> + +<P> +"Here we are," said Barnaby, jumping out. "<I>Mélisande</I>. She's a great +friend of ours, but she ruined herself racing, and started the shop as +a different kind of gamble. Let's go up." +</P> + +<P> +In the show-room upstairs two or three haughty ladies were trailing up +and down, on view. The customers were not allowed to touch them; these +sat round the room on the sun-faded yellow cushions, gazing at the +models as if they were made of wax. +</P> + +<P> +"Mélisande is uncommonly sharp," said Barnaby. He had walked in boldly +and given his name to the presiding genius, who had simply glanced and +vanished. "Do you see these creatures sweeping to and fro?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said the girl. "Poor things; they look very cross. I suppose +they are dreadfully ill paid?" +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby smothered an irreverent laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"Paid?" he said. "Not a farthing. She introduces them in the season, +and, in return, they have to act as dummies. They hate it; but she +knows how to drive a bargain. It's a fine advertisement. Half the +world comes to stare at the beauties—it's funnier than a picture +gallery. And, of course, the pull of being taken up by Mélisande in +her society capacity is enormous." +</P> + +<P> +"Who are they?" asked Susan, puzzled. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, heiresses, of sorts, They used to be whisked away in their own +motors at six o'clock. I daresay they are still," said Barnaby. "Here +she is." +</P> + +<P> +An inner door flew open, and a stout woman with dark hair and clever, +tired eyes, artistically blacked, appeared. She ran up to Barnaby and +shook him, then let him go, and inspected him at all angles, with her +head on one side as if he were a Paris model. +</P> + +<P> +"Barnaby!" she screamed. "It is really Barnaby. You lunatic, I +thought you were dead and buried." +</P> + +<P> +"They all thought that," said Barnaby. "It's a bit rough on me." +</P> + +<P> +"Let me pinch you again!" she said. "I can't have you in here if +you're not alive. It's against all my rules, and customers are so +timid. Of course, as a ghost you might be very useful. Make the +brutes pay up!" +</P> + +<P> +"What an eye to business!" he said, enduring her inspection. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear man, I am in the workhouse! My friends insist on patronizing +me, and ordering all kinds of magnificence, and then they go away +imagining they have done me a kindness. I never dine out without +meeting at least one frock that's a bad debt, and you can't be +brilliant when you are being eclipsed by a wretch opposite out of your +own pocket. But what do you want? I can't come out to lunch. I am +rushed to death. There's an awful old Russian princess in there I +can't get rid of. She says she wants to learn the trade, and I daren't +leave her with my designs. I can't make out whether she's only a +Nihilist or a kleptomaniac." +</P> + +<P> +"I want to put my wife in your hands," said Barnaby. "I'll come for +her at two. Can you burn all that crape, and dress her in something +sensible?" +</P> + +<P> +Mélisande screamed again, fixing her eyes for the first time on Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it a joke," she said, "or have you been playing fast and loose with +other people?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know what you mean," said Barnaby, but his eyes hardened. She +glanced at his face, subduing her voice a little. +</P> + +<P> +"I have never been paid," she said, "for an outfit of the most +expensive mourning. The day after we read of your—departure in the +papers, Julia Kelly came in here and asked what was the proper thing to +wear when you lost your—love. I told her it varied. If the man +hadn't proposed black would look like an affectation. I suggested +mauve as harmlessly sentimental. And she said, 'But if he were +practically your husband?' and I said, of course, practically widow's +mourning, but not a cap. And she wore it...." +</P> + +<P> +He moved restlessly under her detaining hand on his sleeve. "I'm +betraying no confidences," she said. "It's a matter of common +knowledge.—How long, in the name of goodness, have you been married? +Who is she?" +</P> + +<P> +"Two or three years," he said. She was still holding on to his coat. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait," she said. "Wait. Oh, you are as mad as ever. How do you want +her dressed? She looks awfully young, poor child." +</P> + +<P> +But Barnaby had made his escape. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +An hour later Susan looked at herself in the long mirrors that were all +round her, and did not know herself any longer, she was so changed. +</P> + +<P> +She had grown used to the deep black garments that seemed a part of her +life. Far off and dimly she remembered the old family lawyer in +shocked consultation with her nurses, his old-fashioned anxiety that +when she was strong enough to travel she should be fittingly attired, +and do honour to her sad estate.... +</P> + +<P> +A door opened at the other end of the room, and she saw Barnaby in the +mirror, saw him standing petrified on the threshold till Mélisande's +laugh called him to his senses. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you like her?" said she. Susan did not hear what he said. But in +the mirror he came towards her, and she turned round to meet him shyly. +</P> + +<P> +"Take her away, then," said Mélisande. "Buy a shilling's-worth of +violets and stick them in her coat; it's all that's lacking. I'll send +down a trunk full of oddments with you to-night.—And give my +compliments to Julia when you see her. 'To account rendered,' you can +murmur in her ear." +</P> + +<P> +Her malicious laugh pursued them a little way down the stairs. They +came out into the street and walked along side by side. +</P> + +<P> +"I went to see Dawson," said Barnaby suddenly. "Burst into his office, +meaning to scare the old jackass out of his wits. He—he turned the +tables on me. Made me feel a brute." +</P> + +<P> +"How?" asked Susan. +</P> + +<P> +He did not explain at once, engaged in making a way for her on the +pavement. Then he answered briefly. +</P> + +<P> +"He told me how he had found you." +</P> + +<P> +His tone, angry as it was, warmed her soul. +</P> + +<P> +"But,—it was not your business," she said, in a low voice. "It had +nothing to do with you." +</P> + +<P> +"I couldn't tell him that," said Barnaby. "Lord, how he went for me, +poor old chap—! Spared me nothing. Said I could never make it up to +you.... It's ridiculous, isn't it? But if you'd heard him attacking +me!—I had to promise him I would try." +</P> + +<P> +He was walking on beside her, so close that his arm brushed hers, his +long strides falling in with her little steps. And he was looking down +on her with a sort of raging kindness. +</P> + +<P> +"You poor little girl!" he said. +</P> + +<P> +They went on for awhile in silence, and then Barnaby stopped in his +absent-minded progress. His good-humour was back, and the joke of this +expedition was again uppermost in his head. He pointed with his stick +at a strange and wonderful work of art in a milliner's window. +</P> + +<P> +"Let's go in here and buy some of these hats," he said. +</P> + +<P> +All her life Susan remembered that day with him. It was all so absurd, +so simple. That strange town, London, was always to her the place +where he and she made acquaintance, playing to ignorant audiences their +game of Let's Pretend. She began to know him;—the way he walked, +swinging his shoulders, stopping short when a sight amused him; his +whimsical earnestness over little things, and the lines that came round +his mouth when he smiled.... +</P> + +<P> +There were horses being put into the train when they arrived at St. +Pancras. The grooms in charge of them were leading them gingerly +through the people, past the lighted bookstall, persuading them up the +gangways into their boxes. There was a small commotion as one of them, +snorting, refused to step on the slanting boards. Tugging and shouting +at him made him worse; he began to plunge, scattering the onlookers and +the porters smiting his flanks. +</P> + +<P> +"Hi! you infernal idiots..." said Barnaby. "Back him in." +</P> + +<P> +He went over to the horse himself, and took hold of his bridle, turned +him round, and walked him in like a lamb. Then, as the porters clapped +shut the side of the horse-box, he waited to ask whose hunters were +going down. Susan, lingering a little way apart, saw a big man with a +cigar in his mouth spin round and seize him. Two or three more shot +out of the throng and hurled themselves upon him, wringing his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"It's Barnaby himself," they shouted. "Barnaby himself!" +</P> + +<P> +They crowded him up the platform, a noisy escort, hiding their feelings +under boisterous chaff; Meltonians, old acquaintances.... They passed +by Susan, gossiping hard. +</P> + +<P> +All at once Barnaby broke loose from them, turning back. "Great +Joseph!" he said. "I've lost my wife!" +</P> + +<P> +What if he had? What if she had cut the tangle, had slipped when his +back was turned into one of these moving trains, and passed out of his +life, out of the bustle into the throbbing darkness, like a match that +had been lit and extinguished, leaving no trace? +</P> + +<P> +She watched him hurrying back, looking for her; saw his quick glance +along a glimmering line of carriages passing him on his left, and +guessed his apprehension. Soon he was bearing down on her, charging +through the press, and had pulled her hand through his arm. +</P> + +<P> +"It was too bad, wasn't it?" he said. "I'm awfully sorry,—Susan." +</P> + +<P> +There was a real relief in his voice. She felt it, wondering. Was he +so glad to find her still his prisoner, his accomplice? +</P> + +<P> +"Did you think," she said, and in her own voice laughter struggled with +a strange inclination to tears,—"that I had run away?" +</P> + +<P> +"Come on," he said cheerfully, not replying. "Hold on to me. Those +chaps are looking at us." +</P> + +<P> +He marched her to his friends, who had halted in a body when he dashed +back, and waited, grinning sympathetically, for his return. +</P> + +<P> +"Here is my wife," he said. "I brought her up to town to get rid of +her widow's weeds." +</P> + +<P> +They shook hands with her solemnly, a kind gravity in their manner to +her subduing them for a minute; and then, as Barnaby settled her in the +Melton slip, they hung round the carriage door, and their tongues were +loosened. +</P> + +<P> +"Where did you pick up these horses? Are they part of your baggage +from another world?" +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"They aren't mine," he said. "I brought nothing back with me, not even +a collar-stud. Why, I pawned my watch in the States!" +</P> + +<P> +"Wouldn't the ferryman let you return on tick? But you were mixed up +with them, Barnaby, when I saw you. I'd know your voice anywhere, +shouting Woa!" +</P> + +<P> +"He's bound to get mixed up with horses, alive or dead," said the big +man. "I tried to find out myself whose cattle they are, but the name +is unintelligible. They can't pronounce it down there; not all the +sneezing and snarling in the station can do it. I'll bet its another +of these wild Austrians." +</P> + +<P> +"D'you remember the three counts who set out on a slippery day to ride +to the meet at Scalford;—and were fetched back to the Harboro', the +three of them, half an hour afterwards, in a cart?" +</P> + +<P> +"Broken ribs, wasn't it?" said Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +"Cracked heads, I fancy. I'll never forget the sight it was; all you +could see of 'em was the three shiny top hats, stove in." +</P> + +<P> +The lights were flickering in the station only the great yellow +clock-face shone unchangeable, with its minute hand creeping up. Down +below on the platforms scurrying passengers went their ways, gathering +in thickening groups and eddying here and there round a pile of +luggage. Everywhere there was restlessness. +</P> + +<P> +Susan leant back in her corner. Their end of the platform was a little +dim, and it was less frequented. She noticed a woman's figure passing +along the train. +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby was loitering, half in, half out of the door, absorbed in +chatter. They were asking him if he were coming out with the Quorn, +offering to lend him a crock to-morrow; relating the current news about +men and horses. Once the big man turned his head casually as the +figure that Susan had noticed passed. His mouth shaped itself in a +whistle, but he made no remark. Only his broad back seemed to block +out a little more of the view. +</P> + +<P> +"It's about time we started," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter down there?" asked Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I fancied I saw a customer," he said promptly. "Did you take your +wife to the grasping Mélisande? You might have patronized another old +friend in me. There's a hat in the window I trimmed myself." +</P> + +<P> +"What?" said Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +The big man chuckled heavily. +</P> + +<P> +"You didn't know I'd gone in for millinery?" he said. "If you had had +your eyes about you you'd have seen my establishment. <I>There's</I> a +business that women never will understand! They haven't got bold +ideas; they are too fond of twisting. It was an accident, really. I +was financing an aunt of mine, Clara Lady Kilgour,—and the thing was +going bankrupt. I strolled into the shop one morning and found Clara +weeping, and the Frenchy who had lured her into it sniffing like a +noxious weed in a bed of artificial roses. Just by way of cheering her +up a bit, I snatched up an affair the serpent was working at—a muddle +of feathers and scraps of lace.—'You'll ruin that!' they wailed. But +hey, presto! I had found my vocation. I kicked out the bailiffs and +took it over. And now I am running it as 'The Earl of Kilgour, late +Fleur-de-lis.'" +</P> + +<P> +The guard came down the train, shutting doors. Barnaby's friends +dropped off, tumbling into the smoker behind. The whistle shrilled. +</P> + +<P> +"Wouldn't you rather get in with them?" said Susan, in sudden shyness. +</P> + +<P> +"What? that would never do," explained Barnaby, pulling up the window. +"The poor dear fellows have left us religiously to ourselves." +</P> + +<P> +He threw a <I>Westminster</I> on her knee and took off his hat. +</P> + +<P> +"What was Kilgour staring at, do you know?" he asked. "He seemed +rather disturbed; didn't want us to notice." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby laughed out loud. +</P> + +<P> +"We got on famously," he declared. "We'd pass muster anywhere. But +you are tired out, aren't you? Lean back in your corner and go to +sleep." +</P> + +<P> +The slip carriage was rocking from side to side, and her head ached +from the strain and excitement of the day. The same shyness that had +smitten her as his friends left them made her shut her eyes under his +regard. She rested her head on the stiff padding, listening to the +thrum of the engine, wandering in dreams that could not match the +fantastic unlikeliness of what had befallen; and all the while feeling +his gaze on her. +</P> + +<P> +She was roused by the jar as the train stopped at Bedford. The +carriage door was opened and closed; they were no longer by themselves. +</P> + +<P> +"Barnaby!" +</P> + +<P> +Tears were imminent in the emotional Irish voice. +</P> + +<P> +"How do you do, Julia."—The man's tone was firm and hard. +</P> + +<P> +"I knew you were in the train.... But with these gossiping wretches +all round you!—I could not bear to meet you with them...." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't waken my wife. She's tired." +</P> + +<P> +His warning struck abruptly on her impulsive murmur. She sat down, +rustling, unfastening the furs at her throat. The train had started +again, and was speeding on. +</P> + +<P> +In her far corner Susan stirred. This was the figure she had seen in +the distance, the figure that Barnaby's friend had tried to block out +from his attention. All Barnaby's friends must guess how hard it would +be for him to meet her again, since he had once worshipped her.... +Looking straight into the flying darkness, Susan tried not to see his +profile reflected in it, tried not to watch his expression, inscrutable +as it was. +</P> + +<P> +"What fools we were!" sighed Julia. +</P> + +<P> +"Regular fools," he said. +</P> + +<P> +The girl drew a quick breath. She had thought she was beginning to +know him, and still she could not guess if he spoke in irony or +despair. She raised her head; fluttered the paper on her knee.—They +must not think that she was asleep. And Barnaby looked at her. +</P> + +<P> +"This is an old friend of mine, Susan," he said sedately. Julia +presented a pale face and shining eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. Hill must be quite accustomed to the enthusiasm of your friends," +she said. "<I>I</I> have been lingering at St. Pancras since three +o'clock,—somebody told me you had been seen in a restaurant—for the +sake of travelling back with you." +</P> + +<P> +"How good of you," said Barnaby, in the same constrained way. "We +didn't know, did we, Susan, that we had been spotted?" +</P> + +<P> +Julia turned to him again; her speaking eyes hardly left him.—"Not +good," she said, "only human." +</P> + +<P> +The train rocked on, filling the inevitable pause with its throbbing. +Then Barnaby's voice cut into the silence. +</P> + +<P> +"We don't mind indulging your human curiosity, Julia," he said, "but +why stare at us so hard? We, too, are only human, aren't we, Susan?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is so strange," said Julia, "to think of you with a wife." +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby bit his lip. He reddened. Perhaps the sight of her had shaken +him, had hit him deeper than he was willing to betray. Her emotion at +meeting the man whom she had mourned as dead was visible; she made no +attempt to hide it. Perhaps his own was the greater for being stifled +by his determined effort at self-control. He got up, fiddling with the +window-sash. +</P> + +<P> +"Would you like this a bit down?" he said. "How is your headache?" +</P> + +<P> +Did he know that her head ached, or had he addressed her at random? +The girl felt an unreasonable anger at his ostentatious solicitude. +Was he playing her off against his old love? Did such bitterness wait +behind their compact? For the first time, his kindness hurt her. All +a farce, all a blind, and a make-believe.... +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V +</H3> + +<P> +In the morning Barnaby went out hunting. He started gaily, in old +clothes, on a borrowed horse. +</P> + +<P> +"Next time I die," he said, "and they put away my relics, I beg you all +not to scatter infernal white knobs of poison among them to keep away +the moths. I call it irreverent. And unless this horrible smell wears +off I'll have to keep to leeward. A single whiff of it would kill the +scent." +</P> + +<P> +He came in at dusk, stiff and splashed, but contented, calling for tea, +and waking up the house. It was extraordinary what a difference his +presence made as he limped into the hall and hung up his whip. Life +and vigour seemed to blow in with him; the terriers rushed at him +dancing, barking, pattering into the library at his heels. Lady +Henrietta, propped on her sofa, gave a little sharp sigh. +</P> + +<P> +"Give him his tea, Susan," she said briskly. "How did he carry you, +Barnaby? Who was out?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, all the world and his wife," he said. "Carry me? He wouldn't +have carried a grasshopper. But I changed on to a chestnut that +Rivington wants to sell. I've bought him. Not much to look at, but he +goes well enough, and I was so pleased to feel a real galloper under +me, I'd have given him any price.... It's good to be here again. +Though my boots are as hard as iron. I believe I am lamed for life. +By the by, Susan, I've let you in for one thing. I couldn't help it." +</P> + +<P> +She looked up, startled, from her place by the fire. +</P> + +<P> +"It's only to dine out with some people to-morrow night," he said, +noticing her alarm. "I couldn't get out of it, really; they mobbed me +so." +</P> + +<P> +"Who is it?" asked Lady Henrietta. +</P> + +<P> +"Only the Drakes," said Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +His mother nodded. "Yes; show her off to your friends!" she said. +</P> + +<P> +She was in and out of Susan's room next evening all the while she was +dressing, and when the girl's toilet was finished she came with her +hands full of jewel-cases. +</P> + +<P> +"You can't wear much to-night," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"It would look dressed up. But a few pins,—and a star or two to give +you confidence in yourself.... My dear, you don't know what a help it +is! And all the women you'll meet have been at one time or another in +love with Barnaby. Hold up your head, and don't let them make you +wretched. Is that you, Barnaby? I want you." +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby passed by on his way from his own room, and her shrill call +stopped him. His step outside sent the colour into Susan's cheek, and +his voice came doubtfully through the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, mother?" +</P> + +<P> +"Come in; come in. How shy you are!" said she, and the handle turned. +</P> + +<P> +"You will tire yourself," he said, but she brushed aside his +remonstrance. +</P> + +<P> +"Rubbish!" she said. "I have the whole evening to lie up and swallow +physic. Come here and stick these in for me, will you? Margaret is so +clumsy." +</P> + +<P> +"I beg your pardon," he said, under his breath, as he bent down, +fulfilling his office.—"The exigencies of the piece must excuse me." +</P> + +<P> +"What a queer way of apologizing for running a pin into your wife!" +said his mother sharply. She might have been trusted to overhear. He +had straightened himself, and was withdrawing rather precipitately, +when his eyes fell on his own picture above the chimney-piece. "What +is that thing doing here?" he asked, off his guard. +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta desisted from her pleased contemplation of Susan decked +out with jewels. +</P> + +<P> +"Well!" she said. "Of all things! Do you mean to say?—It has been +there ever since she came. I had it hung there myself to be company +for your heart-broken widow." +</P> + +<P> +"Anyhow, we'll have it down now," he said hastily. "You'd rather not +have the daub glaring at you, wouldn't you, Susan?" +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta turned her back on him. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't mind him, my dear," she said. "We'll keep it." +</P> + +<P> +There was warmth in her tone. She squeezed the girl's arm, bidding her +remember that none of Barnaby's old flames could hold a candle to her. +Somehow or other he had fallen under her displeasure. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid my acting doesn't come up to yours," he said, when they +were shut into the motor. "My mother thinks I am too undemonstrative +... that I am unworthy of my good luck." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't!" she said. +</P> + +<P> +He laid his hand comfortingly on hers. +</P> + +<P> +"Look here, little girl," he said. "It's no use taking things hard. +We have to make the best of it. It won't last for ever.... We must +look at the funny side of it. That's the bargain." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The swift drive through the night was already over. Three men, pushing +aside the servants, were slapping Barnaby on the back. They bore a +family likeness to each other, big men, with creased red necks, and +short, rumpled sandy hair. +</P> + +<P> +"Come along in," they cried heartily. "The house is full of old +friends wanting to get at you,—and nothing but odds and ends for +dinner." +</P> + +<P> +But one of them managed to lower his hearty voice a trifle.—"You won't +mind meeting Julia Kelly? She has asked herself for the night." +</P> + +<P> +"Who else?" said Barnaby, in his ordinary tones. +</P> + +<P> +"Kilgour and the Slaters and Rackham and the Duchess;—and a few more," +reeled off his host, thankfully dropping the awkward subject now he had +got out his warning. He rushed them into the house, and Susan was +bewildered by the tumult that greeted them, the sea of unknown faces. +Men and women alike were seizing on Barnaby and exclaiming. She hardly +realized that they were at the same time taking stock of her. The +three Drakes stood near her like a bodyguard, kind and stolid, settling +into their usual phlegmatic form; and she felt glad of them. +</P> + +<P> +"Getting on all right?" said Barnaby, as she passed him on her way in +to dinner, and she smiled back at him. +</P> + +<P> +He and she were not near each other; but once or twice he looked her +way, bending his head and slewing half round to catch a glimpse of her; +that—or else Lady Henrietta's stars, kept up her courage. She +listened politely, not understanding much, to the local gossip running +along the table. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you picked up any horses yet, Barnaby? Sims has one or two going +up on Saturday, at Leicester." +</P> + +<P> +"I can let you have a bay, a capital fencer——" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you don't palm off your roarers on me. I heard him to-day," said +Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I don't deny that he makes a noise——" +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose you think I've been in the wilds so long I don't know a +horse from a hedgehog!" said Barnaby. "Can anyone tell me what became +of a black mare I had four seasons ago?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean Black Rose?" said Kilgour. +</P> + +<P> +"That's the one. Do you know who has her?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have," said Kilgour. "I took her from Peters. The fellow couldn't +ride her. You can have her back if you want her, Barnaby; she isn't up +to my weight. I remember you rode her at Croxton Park." +</P> + +<P> +"And won," said Barnaby. "Want her? Rather." +</P> + +<P> +Kilgour chuckled heavily. +</P> + +<P> +"She isn't as young as she was, mind," he said. "But she can go still. +I suppose you're not as keen as you used to be on breaking your neck?" +</P> + +<P> +"As keen as ever," said Barnaby, with conviction. +</P> + +<P> +"Does your wife ride?" +</P> + +<P> +The question sounded maladroit; it was inconceivable that Barnaby +should have married a wife who did not. His hesitation was singular in +their eyes; they all stopped to listen. +</P> + +<P> +"I really don't know," he said. +</P> + +<P> +In the general burst of laughter Susan caught his glance of amused +consternation. In that hard-riding company his ignorance was +incredible. Men, having a curious predilection towards the unsuitable +in wives, he might, after all, have committed that inconceivable piece +of folly. Barnaby's wife might lamentably turn out incapable of +sitting on a horse. But that Barnaby should not know—! +</P> + +<P> +It was while they were all laughing at him that Susan became aware of +Julia Kelly. +</P> + +<P> +She was on the same side of the table as herself, placed far from the +lion of the occasion; and was leaning her elbows on the table, looking +full at Susan. The man between them was sitting back in his chair +roaring helplessly at the joke. +</P> + +<P> +"What an ignorant husband, Mrs. Hill," said Julia, and her musical +voice vibrated through the laughter. "Do you ride?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have ridden," said Susan quietly. It was difficult for her to blot +the memory of an encounter that the other woman ignored. +</P> + +<P> +"But not with him?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Drake, springing up, made diversion. +</P> + +<P> +"Why not have a steeplechase?" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +She was one of these little women, all skin and bone, who cannot bear +inaction, and whose wishes are carried out. +</P> + +<P> +"Cross country," she said, silencing a growl from her husband. "You +can ride the point-to-point course. We'll send round and tell +everybody, and get them all here by twelve. And we'll put grooms with +lanterns to mark the jumps." +</P> + +<P> +The men jumped up, enthusiastic. The idea was just mad enough to +appeal to their sporting instincts. In about three minutes the +dining-room was deserted, and five motors were humming into the +darkness to apprise and rally all who were reckless enough to join. In +a neighbourhood always ready for a frolic there was no danger of the +inspiration falling flat. +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby himself was in the thick of it, mapping out preliminaries with +the other men in the hall. The women clustered together, almost +hysterical with excitement. And Susan drifted apart from the +chattering circle, feeling outside it all. +</P> + +<P> +She heard a gruff voice in her ear, and started. The tall, gaunt, +hard-faced Duchess was standing over her. +</P> + +<P> +"How are you getting on?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"It is a little strange to me," said Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"But you are not moping," said the Duchess. "I can see you are made of +better stuff. They are all mad, of course, but nobody will get hurt, +if that is what you are afraid of." +</P> + +<P> +Yes, that must be what she was afraid of, what inspired her with an +undefined wretchedness. If she had been what they thought her, surely +she would be feeling nervous. She was glad she had not made the +mistake of pretending to be gay. +</P> + +<P> +"I am an old friend of your husband's," said the Duchess, "—and he has +asked me to be kind to you. I shan't warn you to beware of Julia; all +the rest of them will, if they haven't already;—but I don't call that +kindness." +</P> + +<P> +"Barnaby asked you to be kind to me?" repeated Susan; she could not +keep the wistfulness out of her voice; she had been thinking herself so +utterly forgotten. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. It isn't the fashion here for husbands to worry about their +wives, but he is a bit old-fashioned. I told him I'd come and talk to +the little fish out of water. It is just a strange pond, my dear, and +you'll soon begin swimming." +</P> + +<P> +The clash of voices grew more uproarious in the hall. A man put his +head in and vanished, looking for somebody. His brief appearance made +the contrast between the excitement out there and this empty room more +emphatic. +</P> + +<P> +"I must get out of this," said the Duchess, switching her train as she +rose from the sofa. "Kitty will have to lend me a habit and one of her +husband's coats. I shall ride. There's a brook jump where there'll be +trouble, and I want to see the fun. You had better drive with Kitty. +I'll see to it. Have you anything warm to put on?" +</P> + +<P> +Her caution was hardly equal to her good nature, and the clamour in the +hall hardly drowned her indignant voice as she seized on a confidant in +the doorway. +</P> + +<P> +"I like her pluck. She's terrified to death, of course, but she +doesn't look woe-begone. We must seem a pack of dangerous lunatics.... +Where do these Americans get their spirit?" +</P> + +<P> +"You don't read history, do you, Duchess?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" +</P> + +<P> +The man she had seized laughed shortly, amused at her bewildered face. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," he said, "we English are frightfully cock-a-hoop over our +pedigrees. We don't remember it's they who are condescending to us. +There's bluer and better blood across the Atlantic than any of ours, +and it isn't smirched. They don't boast. They don't remind us of our +blotted scutcheons.—We to talk of race!" +</P> + +<P> +"What on earth do you mean, Kilgour?" said the Duchess. "Half of them +are Huns and Finns, and the scum of Europe." +</P> + +<P> +The big man was leaning against the door-post; his bantering tongue +took on a sudden heat. +</P> + +<P> +"A few," he said. "But the rest—! Scum, Duchess?—We're the dregs. +There's not one of our great families that isn't mixed with the blood +of traitors; that hasn't at one time or another sold its honour or +stained its sword. Scots and English, all that was best of us once, +are there, handing their valour down. After Culloden the country was +drained of its gentlemen. Why, you can still hear the Highland tongue +in South Carolina.... <I>They</I> went into exile while we hugged our +estates and truckled to an usurper. And the soul of a country is the +soul of its heroes.... Oh, I believe in race!—Let the rest of us take +a pride in our tarnished titles and wonder at the fineness of strangers +who are descended from the men who lost all for the sake of honour and +loyalty to their King!" +</P> + +<P> +The Duchess dropped her blunt voice into a lower key. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor old Kilgour," she said. "You're thinking of that little brute +Tillinghame and his dollar princess." +</P> + +<P> +"Well!" he said, between his teeth. "You've only to look at them!—And +his people sneer at her for aspiring to bear an illustrious title that +began in dishonour, and has been dragged a few hundred years in the +mud—!" +</P> + +<P> +The Duchess moved away from the door; she had remembered Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you'd capture Barnaby and send him in to his wife," she said. +"He has forgotten that she exists.... I've had to make up a +message.... I couldn't stand the dumb wistfulness in her face. It's a +foolhardy business." +</P> + +<P> +"I've just sent for Black Rose," said Kilgour, in his ordinary tone. +"He was keen to ride her." He raised his voice. "—Here, Barnaby, +you're wanted!" +</P> + +<P> +But the messengers were returning already, and strange cars were +dashing up. The hubbub was at its height. It was impossible to win +Barnaby's attention. He turned his head impatiently as Kilgour made a +grab at him. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it now?" he said. "Oh, don't bother me, there's a good +fellow. They want to settle how—Jim, Jim, is that you? Have you +brought the horses?" +</P> + +<P> +He ran down the steps. +</P> + +<P> +A clatter of hoofs was audible in the darkness, and a groom, riding one +horse and leading another pulled up below the steps, steadying his +charges as they flung up their bewildered heads, blinking, kicking up +the gravel. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, my beauty!" said Barnaby, in the voice of a lover. "Did you think +I was dead?" +</P> + +<P> +"Is that Black Rose?" called one of the men crowding to the door. +"Wasn't she sold?" +</P> + +<P> +"She was. But I'll have her back," he shouted up to them, rubbing the +mare's dark head. "To the half of my kingdom I'll buy her back!" +</P> + +<P> +The women, wrapped thickly, and disguised in furs, were streaming into +the hall. Julia Kelly, who had lingered to the last, and was not yet +ready, rushed down impulsively to his side. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Barnaby, is that Black Rose? Dear thing, is she there? Oh, +Barnaby—!" +</P> + +<P> +Her voice thrilled and sank; she stretched out her hand, patting the +mare's neck, rejoicing with him. +</P> + +<P> +"It's like old times, isn't it?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +The night wind ruffled his bare head, kissed a wisp of Julia's lace and +blew it against him. She might have been forgiven for thinking his +thick utterance was for her. The little scene, to all present who knew +their tale, was romantic. +</P> + +<P> +Kitty Drake looked over her shoulder in a funny, conscience-stricken +way; the Duchess was poking her in the back, and at the same time +interposing her rugged presence between romance and Susan. In a minute +the girl was shielded by an oddly-sympathizing bevy of women, fussing +over her in a transparent hurry to see that she was wrapped up warm. +</P> + +<P> +The stable clock behind the house was beginning to strike, and the men +who had been dining there had disappeared to change. Nobody was +measuring the length of that interview.... At last Barnaby came in +three steps at a time, a portmanteau in his arms. +</P> + +<P> +"I say, Kitty; where can I go and dress?" +</P> + +<P> +She looked at him severely over Susan's head. +</P> + +<P> +"Run in anywhere," she said, and he pursued his impetuous way upstairs. +Julia reappeared by herself, on her face what Kitty Drake stigmatized +as a maddening consciousness. +</P> + +<P> +"They say they are going to ride in their shirt-sleeves," she said, +"but that will hardly make them visible. It's nearly pitch dark +outside." +</P> + +<P> +"They are idiots," said Kitty Drake. "Fancy Gregory calling to us when +we were upstairs to know if we would lend them our night-dresses. I +told him I was too thrifty." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not?" said Julia. "Barnaby can have mine." +</P> + +<P> +A blank pause saluted her speech, and then, with one accord, the women +began to acclaim the notion as if it were the most ordinary thing in +the world. Even Kitty, in her haste to dissipate the impression that +Julia's declaration might make on the girl beside her, caught up the +idea and made it hers. She flew up and down arranging. +</P> + +<P> +"A bit mediæval, isn't it?" said Kilgour, watching the riders as they +struggled with gossamer raiment that sometimes flopped over their heads +unassisted, and sometimes clung, entangling them in cobwebs.—"In the +days of knighthood we all wore bits of our ladies' clothing." +</P> + +<P> +The Duchess grumbled. +</P> + +<P> +"Pity we can't revive other habits," she said. "There was a useful +practice of wringing obnoxious people's necks." +</P> + +<P> +"Poor Julia," said Kilgour. "Don't grudge her her little triumph. She +only wants to publish it abroad that it was her own fault she was +forsaken." +</P> + +<P> +But the Duchess's brow was grim. +</P> + +<P> +The night was black and starless, and had been still. The villages +they passed gave back startled echoes, awakened out of sleep by the +rattling of the cavalcade. Susan was tucked in between Kitty Drake and +the Duchess, who intended to change to her horse when the race began, +and in the meantime was driving them at a smacking pace. She kept her +buggy at the head of the procession, and was the first to whisk round a +perilously sudden turning that led off the turnpike, and sent them +bumping into a field. +</P> + +<P> +In front of them stretched a dim line of country that had darkened into +strangeness, puzzling the most familiar eyes. Here and there were +flickering lights, like will-o'-the-wisps, luring and warning, +indicating danger. And the men were to ride there.... +</P> + +<P> +Susan stood up in the buggy, supported by Kitty's arm, straining her +eyes to watch the start. She could make out a little; by dint of hard +gazing she learnt to distinguish the figures that moved yonder. In the +middle of the field an indistinct line of riders were drawn up, waiting. +</P> + +<P> +A man shouted back to the watchers, and their prattle hushed. There +was an instant of absolute silence, suspended breath;—and then +somebody swung a lantern. +</P> + +<P> +"Go!" he cried. +</P> + +<P> +Leaping into the darkness the line of horses broke like a wave and +went, their limbs gleaming. Already they were blundering into the +first hedge, and there was a crash, relieved by laughter as the first +spill resulted in one man picking himself up unhurt. The rest were +swinging on; rising again, more warily, a little farther; and just +visible, for the last time, black objects against the sky. +</P> + +<P> +The Duchess set her foot in the stirrup and galloped off. Susan rocked +as she stood, and was nearly flung out as the buggy started forward, +and the whole cavalcade whirled blindly into a lane that was all ruts +and stones and turf. +</P> + +<P> +Strange what an unimagined wildness darkness and ignorance lent to that +plain strip of country. The fields that slanted were dreadful hills +sinking into unknown abysses, the brooks rushed like rivers, the hedges +lifted themselves gigantic. Many who had ridden over the ground by +daylight times without number exclaimed, and wished the night at an end. +</P> + +<P> +Kitty Drake, however, was screaming with delight. +</P> + +<P> +"Here they come!" she shrilled. "Oh, shut up, you people. You'll +scare the horses. I know it's awfully weird, but still—! That's +Dicky, of course. I'd know Nanny's frills anywhere; he looks like a +mad pierrot. Oh, and Colonel Birch, with Mrs. Uffington's chiffon +scarf tied on to him. Mrs. Uffington, it was base of you not to risk +it. My best garment is floating there, being torn to ribbons by +Gregory's spurs." +</P> + +<P> +"Sit down, Kitty!" cried somebody at her elbow. "You can't see +anything yet; it's all imagination." +</P> + +<P> +"I see it with my mind's eye," she declared; but subsided. +</P> + +<P> +A few men on horseback scampered out of the nothingness and drew up +beside them. This was the place to watch the riders jump the water. +They pressed close in a peering bunch, the cigars in their mouths +making red points in the gloom. The Duchess halted by the buggy, a +curious figure in Gregory Drake's greatcoat, with the sleeves turned up. +</P> + +<P> +"All right, so far," she said, in her gruff voice, cheerily. "They +have been signalling with the lanterns. Queer how the darkness seems +to swallow 'em up alive!" +</P> + +<P> +As she spoke they all heard a distant thudding. There was something +terrifying in this invisible approach; it seemed to promise +catastrophe. Surely some sudden end would come to that beating of +horses' hoofs—! Nearer and nearer the unseen racers came, until they +were almost on the top of the watching throng. Then there was a +glimpse of great beasts rising in the air. +</P> + +<P> +The first horse came down short of the landing-place, plunging into the +hidden water that ran beneath. His splash was followed by another as +the next man faltered and went in deep. Then a third went up. +</P> + +<P> +Someone had an acetylene motor lamp, and held it suddenly on high. It +made a vivid glare, illuminating that rider's face, his eyes staring +ahead, his mouth shut and smiling—— +</P> + +<P> +"Turn out that lamp. You'll dazzle 'em, you damned idiot!" yelled +Kilgour. "It isn't a pantomime!" +</P> + +<P> +The next horse had taken fright. There was stamping and swearing; and +then the blinding flare was extinguished, leaving the scene darker. +The faces that had shone pale and unearthly in that brief wave of +limelight could not longer be recognized. +</P> + +<P> +Susan shivered with excitement. That was Barnaby she had seen.... +</P> + +<P> +No woman was in his head just then; his spirit was intent on the +splendid peril of that night ride. Something in herself understood +him. She felt proud of him, reckless with him, afraid of nothing. But +he had landed and was away on the farther side. +</P> + +<P> +Now they were all in or over, and the water jump was deserted. The +last who had failed to clear it had struggled up the bank and swung +dripping into his saddle, feeling for his reins. They were laughing at +him because he had let go and tried to swim, not at first realizing +that it wasn't up to his knees.... +</P> + +<P> +But he had lost his head in the dark. +</P> + +<P> +There was time, if they hurried, to reach the hillside at the back of +the intervening dip, full of pitfalls, and gain a place of vantage to +witness what they might of the finish. Kilgour, who knew the country +blindfold, pushed on ahead, guiding them; and the rest trusted to his +instinct. He unlatched a gate, flinging it wide for the others to +scramble through, cut along close under the branching side of a +spinney, forded a water-course, and spun up a cart track; emerging +suddenly on the side of the hill. Behind him pressed a clattering, +jolting troop, that stopped dead as he threw up his arm and listened. +</P> + +<P> +The riders had to make a circuit, but they should be near. What was +the meaning of this long pause? of the utter silence? For the first +time the women betrayed a nervous thrill that was not pure excitement. +The waiting dashed their spirits. They tried to laugh, and their +laughter sounded strange. +</P> + +<P> +"There's bound to be some misfortune," muttered someone, as a night +bird croaked in the trees. And above the hush a woman's voice pealed, +hysterical, calling on heaven to witness that she had dissuaded +Billy—— +</P> + +<P> +"Hush!" +</P> + +<P> +The men who were judging talked in whispers as they sat quietly on +their horses, motionless, save for an occasional jingling bit, under +the clump of firs that was the winning-post. Their ears were on the +alert, but all the queer noises of the night were treacherously alike, +and that might be nothing but running water that seemed a distant +galloping. One man looked at his watch. +</P> + +<P> +"They're due," he said. "Bar accidents. Can't you hear 'em?" +</P> + +<P> +Then at last, clear in the distance, the gallop came. +</P> + +<P> +Far in that mysterious valley the lanterns twinkled, making the +darkness visible. Where the lights glimmered there was danger. +</P> + +<P> +"D'you see that?" said Kilgour in the ear of his neighbour. A spark +dipped suddenly.—"One man down." +</P> + +<P> +At the next jump another light went out. +</P> + +<P> +"A bit weird, these signals," said Kilgour's neighbour. "I don't like +'em; it's too infernally suggestive. Where are they now?" +</P> + +<P> +The watchers herded together, all standing up, all staring; trying to +pierce the gloom, as the unseen horses came thundering up the rise. +Singly they ran in. +</P> + +<P> +Susan was sure that Barnaby would win. She could not understand why +her heart beat so loud. +</P> + +<P> +"One—two—three—!" +</P> + +<P> +They were all frantically counting. Five men still up;—but not yet +near enough to distinguish faces. +</P> + +<P> +"If Barnaby isn't in the first three he's down." +</P> + +<P> +Who said that? She gave one shudder and was quite still. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, God, don't let him be killed. Don't let him be killed!" she was +crying to herself. +</P> + +<P> +The fir trees spread their dark plumes overhead; in the boughs there +was a strange sighing.... If he was not in the first three, if he was +missing—her one friend in a land of strangers, lying there crushed and +lifeless in the dark:— +</P> + +<P> +"Oh God—!" she cried under her breath. +</P> + +<P> +And then out of the blackness shot a headlong figure, cleaving it like +an arrow. That blur beneath was the final jump, the last hedge that +barred the way with its ragged line. And he charged it as if it were +not there, keeping on in his tremendous rush. +</P> + +<P> +"Barnaby!" they shouted. They knew his laugh before they could see his +face. +</P> + +<P> +"A near thing," he said, and pulled up the black mare, who turned her +head towards him as he dismounted, her eye-balls glistening in the +darkness with something like human pride. +</P> + +<P> +"You didn't steady her there," said Kilgour. +</P> + +<P> +"Steady her?—We had to come for all we were worth!" he said. +</P> + +<P> +The Duchess, striding afoot, made her way into the circle round him. +Barnaby was explaining how he had ridden into one of the +lantern-bearers, a silly fool who had turned his light and was standing +into the hedge; and how he had got off to make sure the poor devil +wasn't injured. He had had to ride after that like fury; no leisure to +grope his way.... +</P> + +<P> +"Since you are not smashed up," said the Duchess, shaking him by the +arm, "go and show yourself to your wife. You nearly frightened her to +death." +</P> + +<P> +She piloted him to the buggy, and stood by, with her unsentimental +countenance considerately averted. +</P> + +<P> +"I am so glad you won," said Susan. She spoke steadily, controlling +the traitorous catch in her throat. How was she to assure him that she +was not guilty of causing him to be dragged to her side? +</P> + +<P> +The man smiled at her stiff politeness. He was still hot, still +breathing a little hard, the spell of his ride still on him;—and +Julia's wisp of muslin was twisted round his neck. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry you were scared," he said. "I'm rather in the habit of +doing ridiculous things like this. There wasn't much danger really ... +and I didn't think you would mind." +</P> + +<P> +His casual apology struck her like a blow. What right had she—? How +it must amuse him that she should affect to care. +</P> + +<P> +"I did not mind," she said proudly. "It was—funny." +</P> + +<P> +One of his friends was coming up with a coat to throw over him. The +men who had come to grief were straggling in, bruised and dirty, but +miraculously sound. Kitty Drake leaned over the wheel on the other +side, hailing them, calling to each man to ask if he was alive.... +</P> + +<P> +"Was it?" said Barnaby, and smiled. The glint in his eyes reminded her +of his face as the light flashed on him, dare-devil, reckless, down +there when he jumped the water. +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps the joke was a little too much for him. +</P> + +<P> +"You are not altogether a callous person," he said slowly. "I don't +believe you, Susan. You fainted when I came home...." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI +</H3> + +<P> +"Dull?" said Lady Henrietta. +</P> + +<P> +The girl became aware of her with a start. +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby had just gone, and the house was quiet. Late as usual, he had +come clinking down in his spurs, and run out to his waiting horse; and +she had seen him off, but had not yet turned away from the door. Lady +Henrietta's uncommon earliness had surprised her. She did not know how +wistful her aspect was. +</P> + +<P> +"No," she said. "Oh no. I was only watching——" +</P> + +<P> +"To see the last of him," retorted Lady Henrietta smartly. "I know—I +know. One glimpse of him as he crosses the wooden bridge, and again a +peep before he cuts across by the willows. How dare you let him set +off day after day without you?" +</P> + +<P> +She paused. There was mischief in her eye, an unwonted touch of +excitement. One would have said she was plotting. +</P> + +<P> +"You are too lamb-like," she said. "I'll give you a horse. Tell him +you'll go hunting with him to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +She laughed outright at the girl's look of consternation. +</P> + +<P> +"No," she said, "you wouldn't. My dear, you have got him, and you must +keep him. It's a woman's business to look after her husband, to throw +herself into his occupations, and rescue him from the ravening lions +that run up and down in the earth. Why didn't you back me up when I +attacked him last night, and he put me off with his nonsense about a +quiet pony? Why didn't you insist?" +</P> + +<P> +Susan flushed scarlet, remembering Lady Henrietta's unexpected +onslaught and Barnaby's good-humoured amazement; his vague promise of +giving her a riding lesson. He glanced at her mirthfully, and that +look of his had called up a hot disclaimer of any wish. Was it not in +their bargain that as far as possible they were not to haunt each other? +</P> + +<P> +"Since you are so meek," said Lady Henrietta, who did not miss her +confusion, "<I>I</I> must put my finger in the pie." +</P> + +<P> +Her eyes were not young, but they were far-seeing; she turned from the +prospect at which Susan had been gazing, and laid authoritative fingers +on her sleeve. +</P> + +<P> +"Run upstairs," she said, "and get into your habit. I've told Margaret +to have it ready. It won't fit, probably, but you are not vain;—it's +borrowed. Don't stare at me, you baby! Rackham and I settled it the +night he dined here, while you and Barnaby were trying not to talk to +each other. I don't know whether you can ride or not, but you must +begin." +</P> + +<P> +She finished up with a chuckle. The sight of Susan's face—well, that +was enough for her. She had turned a more potent key than she knew. +</P> + +<P> +Two horses were pawing the gravel beside the door, and one of them had +a side-saddle on his back. She had seen them coming when she +despatched her daughter-in-law to dress. Rackham himself was waiting +on the steps. Lady Henrietta beckoned to him with the joy of a bad +child firing a train of powder. +</P> + +<P> +"I've told her," she said. "She'll be down in a minute. Take her once +or twice round the park, and if she doesn't fall off——" +</P> + +<P> +"She won't fall off," said Rackham. +</P> + +<P> +"You brought her a quiet horse?"—the conspirator was feeling a slight +compunction. +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby's cousin, his ancient rival, smiled under his moustache. "I'll +take good care of her, my aunt," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"You are an obliging demon, Rackham," she observed. "It was good of +you to give up your hunting." +</P> + +<P> +"They'll be at Ranksboro' about twelve," he said significantly. "If +you really wanted us to give Barnaby a surprise——" +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta favoured him with an enlightening nod. Whether or no he +was bent on furthering her purposes, assuredly she might trust him. +</P> + +<P> +"Villain," she said. "You understand me; it's an experiment,—it's a +squib!" +</P> + +<P> +Twice Susan rode solemnly round the park. To her, remembering how, as +a child, she had ridden, cross-legged, bare-backed, anyhow, +anything—their solicitude was absurd. She swung her foot in the +stirrup, lifting a transfigured face. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>You</I> are all right," said Rackham, glancing backwards towards the +distant windows. "I knew you could ride." +</P> + +<P> +He bent over in his saddle to unlatch the hand-gate that Barnaby had +ridden through before them, taking his short cut over the wooden bridge +by the willows. Keeping his horse back, he held it open. +</P> + +<P> +"Come out this way," he said. They went cantering up the lane. +</P> + +<P> +Dim and dark was the landscape, threatening rain, and the clouds were +sinking lower and lower, rubbing out the hills. A kind of expectation +hung in the air. A storm gathering perhaps. They rode up and up, +until the narrow green lane came to a sudden stop, and a break in the +high barriers of hawthorn let them on to a ridge that hung over a wide +sweep of valley. Underneath lay a fallow strip, reddish brown amidst +the green waves of pasture, and a party of rooks rose cawing above the +idle plough. +</P> + +<P> +Susan, her heart still dancing, laid a happy hand on her horse's +mane,—the willing horse that carried her so smoothly. +</P> + +<P> +"You like it?" said Rackham. +</P> + +<P> +There was a subtle difference between his guardianship and that of his +cousin. She missed that queer sense of security that she had with +Barnaby. Why, she knew not, but Rackham's neighbourhood troubled her. +She felt a nervous inclination to burst into hurried chatter. +</P> + +<P> +"It was awfully kind of Lady Henrietta to arrange it,—and of you," she +said; "though you were both afraid that I should disgrace you. Yes, +you were watching;—and she too: her mind misgave her when she saw me +in the saddle.—What is the matter with the horses?" +</P> + +<P> +"Look!" he said, smiling broadly. +</P> + +<P> +And immediately she guessed. Far on the right she distinguished a +flick of scarlet. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" she said, in an awed whisper, understanding. +</P> + +<P> +"That's one of the whips riding on," he explained; "they are going to +draw the spinney down there, just underneath. We're in for it, aren't +we?—Shall we stay where we are, and chance Barnaby's displeasure? +I'll open the gates for you, and give you a lead. Can you jump?" +</P> + +<P> +She laughed at him, carried out of herself, back in remote adventures +when there had been nothing she would not dare. Her blood was up, and +she felt her horse quivering beneath her. Hounds were in the spinney; +she had glimpses of dappled bodies ranging among the trees; at the +eastern side an interminable troop of riders were pouring into the +field. There seemed no limit to their numbers as they massed thicker +and thicker on the skirts of the cover till there was but the south +side clear. +</P> + +<P> +"Keep still!" said Rackham in a breath, and as he whispered a living +flash passed by. It vanished across the fallow, as a whistle shrilled +from below. One of the whips had seen him. +</P> + +<P> +"Steady!" said Rackham. "Hounds are coming out. He broke at that +bottom corner.—Now!" +</P> + +<P> +Her horse bounded away with his. She was close behind him as they +raced down the headland. The fence at the end was low; a thorn-crammed +ditch and a rotten rail. She took it, hardly knowing, but for her +horse's excitement, that she had jumped. He broke into a gallop then, +and she let him go. +</P> + +<P> +"Who's the lady out with Rackham?" called one man, waiting his turn at +a gap. The man ahead of him squeezed through before replying. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't know. She's chosen a damn reckless pilot!" +</P> + +<P> +But no man's recklessness could have beaten hers. She followed him +blindly; nothing daunted her, nothing dimmed the eagerness in her soul. +This was to live indeed. +</P> + +<P> +They were hard on the pack. She could hear them in front, could +sometimes catch a view of them flickering on. A great noise of +galloping filled the air behind, drumming hard; but she was still +keeping her lucky place in the van. She and Rackham.... +</P> + +<P> +There was something formidable ahead. She felt her horse faltering in +his stride, not afraid, but doubtful;—those that were close behind +were parting right and left; some of them were falling back. Without +turning her head she knew it. Recklessly she kept on. The others +might blench.... She would not. +</P> + +<P> +Up went her horse, and in mid-air she had time to ask herself what +would happen, to guess that it was touch and go. It seemed a great +while before they came down, with a jar and a stagger, galloping rather +wildly on. +</P> + +<P> +She was too excited still to feel tired, too ignorant of danger to know +what a wild line she was taking now. Just ahead of her Rackham had +disappeared with a crack of timber, and she must not be left behind. +</P> + +<P> +An ominous crash pursued her as she went through a stiff barrier of +thorns; a loose horse was flying past. She looked dizzily for Rackham, +wondering if it was his. It tried to clear the next fence riderless, +but was too unsteady, and swerving crosswise, nearly brought her down. +In the field beyond it was stopped by an oxer. Someone behind cracked +his whip.... +</P> + +<P> +"We've beaten the lot!" called Rackham; his voice came a little hoarse +in her ear. "Half of 'em funked that bullfinch, and there's one fellow +in the ditch——" +</P> + +<P> +She reeled in her saddle. +</P> + +<P> +"I've—no—breath left," she panted. +</P> + +<P> +"Pull up. Pull up!" said Rackham, and leaned over as she managed to +stop her horse. Her knees trembled and she held on a minute; she +thought she was going to fall off out of sheer fatigue. +</P> + +<P> +Hounds were baying on the other side of the hedge. They had got their +fox. People were coming up on all sides, in haste to mingle with the +few who had ridden straight. She was vaguely conscious of their +interested regard; she heard a general buzz of gossip. +</P> + +<P> +"There's Barnaby," said Rackham. He had dismounted, and stood by her +horse's shoulder, pretending to do something with a buckle, but in +reality waiting for her to recover. His arm was ready to catch her if +she should slide off; his wild eyes were fixed on her. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't forget it was with me, not with him, you rode your first run," +he said. The triumph in his whisper made her afraid. She felt like a +truant. +</P> + +<P> +What would Barnaby think of her? Would he be very angry? Had he +watched her riding, wondering who she was? She lifted her face, a +little proud, but troubled. All at once her glorious adventure wore +the look of an escapade. +</P> + +<P> +He had ridden up, but he was not looking at her at all. The set of his +mouth was hard. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll take charge of my wife," he said. +</P> + +<P> +How strange it sounded. Would she never get used to it? She had an +immediate sense of protection, of happiness out of all reason. But +what else could he call her, before the world? +</P> + +<P> +His cousin grinned at him brazenly. +</P> + +<P> +"If you haven't too much on your hands," he said darkly. "Oh, take +over your responsibilities if you like. You needn't fight me. It was +your mother's idea.... But she's tired. She mustn't stop out too +long." +</P> + +<P> +"It was a mad thing to do," said Barnaby curtly; "risking her life over +these fences—!" +</P> + +<P> +"Come, come," said Rackham, "don't paint me too black. I took the +greatest care of her. Didn't I?" +</P> + +<P> +"I was looking on," said Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +He had turned to Susan at last, and she saw that his face was pale. +Something in him responded to her look of rapture dashed. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor little girl!" he said. "I didn't know—you cared about it—" +Then he smiled ruefully. "By Jove!" he said. "You gave me a fright. +I thought you'd get yourself killed a dozen times. And I had a bad +start. I couldn't get up to you. There, don't let's look as if we +were quarrelling, though under the circumstances,—do you think we +should?" +</P> + +<P> +She plucked up spirit to answer him in kind. "On the stage," she said, +"the audiences would expect it." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said, "we'll disappoint the audience.... You won your bet, +Kilgour; it is my wife. Wasn't it wicked of her?" +</P> + +<P> +She found herself trotting on at his side. Rackham had fallen back. +It was Barnaby who directed her, who rode at her right hand; and a +cheery crowd hemmed her in. +</P> + +<P> +At the head of the procession hounds were moving on. Occasionally the +authorities called a halt while they searched a patch of trees by the +wayside, or turned aside to examine a hollow tree. But these were not +serious diversions. Once, indeed, there was a whimper as the pack ran +scampering into a small plantation, and the huntsman went in to see +what it was, his scarlet glancing in the bare brown mist of larches. +</P> + +<P> +"I know what'll happen to us," grumbled Kilgour, as the verdict was +issued that it was empty. "We'll climb up on the top of Ranksboro' and +the heavens will open on us." +</P> + +<P> +The ranks closed up again as the pack tumbled back sadly into the road. +Kilgour was a true prophet; they were bent at last towards that +unfailing harbour. On they pushed, up hill and down, through a grey +village where the trees shut out the sky from the winding street, and +then slap in at a gate that let them on to the grass again. +</P> + +<P> +"Where are we?" asked Susan, as she was squeezed in the press through +the gate, finding elbow-room as her neighbours scattered on the other +side, spreading downward. +</P> + +<P> +"On the wild side of Ranksboro'," said Barnaby. "Stick to me if you +are thinking of getting lost. You'll see where you are when we reach +the top, and you can look down on the cover;—but that's at the other +side. Don't you remember the black look of it on the hillside, off the +Melton and Oakham road?" +</P> + +<P> +All were hurrying across the rough bottom, with its hillocks and furze +bushes, and patches of withered bracken; then, gathering in the narrow +bit that let them in under a fringe of trees, mounting upwards. On the +farther side of the summit they came out above a thick plantation; and +there they drew rein and waited, unsheltered, bare to the sky overhead. +</P> + +<P> +Down came the rain. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish I was dead," said a lank man behind Kilgour. "I wish I was +fighting a bye-election!" +</P> + +<P> +Those who were near huddled into the bristling hedge that might break +an east wind, but was useless against this downpour. A few slunk back +over the brow, and herded under the trees; the rest sat stubbornly on +their horses, humping their shoulders, their dripping faces set grimly +towards the cover below; hearkening to hounds. +</P> + +<P> +"Would you rather be pelted with words?" said Kilgour, ramming his hat +over his nose.—"Surely they trickle off you.... Jerusalem! we'll be +drowned." +</P> + +<P> +The lank man turned up his collar, feeling for a button. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, they are dry!" he said. +</P> + +<P> +"They don't give you rheumatism, I grant you," said a fat man beside +him; "but they aren't healthy. I don't care what a man's trade is, if +he can discourse about it, it's improbable he can do his job. And yet +we poor devils of politicians have to spin our brains into jaw——" +</P> + +<P> +"True," said Kilgour. "You don't trust a glib fellow to dig your +garden.... And yet you turn over your country to him." +</P> + +<P> +The fat man grunted. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>I</I> never want to open my mouth again," he said. "I'm addressing six +meetings a week in my constituency, and nothing will go down with 'em +but ranting. Tell you what, Kilgour, we're going on wrong principles +altogether. What we want is Government by Minority. Just you get on a +platform and look down on their silly faces—! The fools are in the +majority in any walk of life; they swamp the sensible chaps, even +Solomon noticed that. And it's the fools we must please, because they +are many. We take their opinion; we let them settle things. The whole +system is upside down." +</P> + +<P> +"There's something in that," said Kilgour. "It always amuses me how +you vote-catchers despise a man who works with his head; and bow down +to your ignorant fetish the working man." +</P> + +<P> +There was a slight disturbance in the cover, but nothing came of it. +People shifted backwards and forwards; there was a smell of wet leather +and steaming horses. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you cold?" said Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +Susan smiled. He was between her and the worst of it; the rain beat on +his upturned face as he sheltered her. She liked watching him ... she +was not unhappy. +</P> + +<P> +The lank man was trying to light a cigar. He glanced up between his +hollowed fingers, his eyes twinkling in a creased red face. +</P> + +<P> +"Our lives aren't worth living, Mrs. Barnaby," he said. "We are all +made so painfully aware of our inferior status. The tail wagging the +dog; that's what we have come to." +</P> + +<P> +The fat man followed his glance, and his disgusted expression gave way +to a friendly gleam. His puffy eyelids quivered. +</P> + +<P> +"Let us grumble," he said. "You see how the weather behaves to us when +we escape for a week-end from bondage. There isn't a bright spot +anywhere but one tale I heard lately in my division." +</P> + +<P> +The lank man tossed away his match; the cigar was drawing. +</P> + +<P> +"And what was that?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it seems they got a Cabinet Minister down to rant against me," +said the fat man, chuckling. "He had made himself particularly +obnoxious to our militant sisters, and there were terrible hints as to +what the ladies were going to do about him. So a London paper +commissioned their blandest reporter to call on 'em, and incidentally +get at their intentions;—and he stuck a flower in his buttonhole and +tackled an engaging young suffragette, who confided in him the +tremendous secret. Swore him, of course, to silence——" +</P> + +<P> +"And the wretch betrayed her?" +</P> + +<P> +The politician grinned. +</P> + +<P> +"They were going to disguise themselves as men," he explained, "and +pervade the meeting in the likeness of divers of my rival's most +prominent supporters. <I>She</I> was to make up as a well-known farmer who +happened to have lumbago;—leggin's, and corporation, and side-whiskers +gummed on tight." +</P> + +<P> +"Pity she let it out," said Kilgour. +</P> + +<P> +"Aha!" said the other man, "she was artless. Well the news got down to +'em somehow, just in time for the meeting, and they set a bodyguard +over anybody who looked suspicious. Couldn't keep out their principal +backers, or insult 'em by explaining, and hadn't time to +investigate.—And my rival got on his legs.—I'm told they were all +more or less in hysterics, each man glaring at his neighbour. And +these whiskers looked jolly unnatural in the artificial light. My +rival had got as far as to mention his 'right honourable friend who, at +great inconvenience'—when that old farmer started to blow his nose. +'Turn her out!' he screeched, and four men seized the astonished old +chap, and hoisted him, kicking and bellowing, to the door.... There +was a glorious row, I'm told. It practically broke up the meeting." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah," said Kilgour, "politics aren't always an arid waste." +</P> + +<P> +"No, occasionally there is rain in the desert. Are we ever going to +move. I'm soaking." +</P> + +<P> +In the dark heavens the clouds were frayed by glimmering streaks of +light. Barnaby moved impatiently, and beyond him Julia Kelly passed +by, changing her station. The girl who was sheltered by his shoulder +had forgotten that Julia must be there. She felt suddenly that she was +a stranger. +</P> + +<P> +How often must he and Julia have hunted together, how often they must +have ridden side by side, sharing the day's fortunes; whispering +contentedly to each other as he shielded her from the storm!—More +telling than speech had been Julia's half-sad, half-reproachful smile. +</P> + +<P> +"They've got him out!" cried Kilgour, spinning round and heading a mad +stampede. As the rest imitated him, Barnaby turned to Susan. "I'm not +going to let you out of my sight!" he said. +</P> + +<P> +Down the hill they raced. Hounds were flinging themselves across, +bursting louder and louder into cry, proclaiming that they were on his +line. And now nobody minded rain. +</P> + +<P> +For a little while Susan felt the magic of it again; the swing of the +gallop, the exhilaration of the jumps as they came; but all too soon +she flagged. They were hunting slower; hounds were not so sure of the +scent; they were slackening, losing faith. The huntsman went forward, +and the Master stopped the field. Then they went on again, running in +a string up the hedge. +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby turned his horse's head and let the crowd go by. He looked at +her significantly. How did he know that she could not keep on much +longer? +</P> + +<P> +"I'll take you home now," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, don't!" she cried. "I am so sorry.... Don't let me spoil your +day." +</P> + +<P> +He laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll pick them up again later on," he said. "We must do the correct +thing, mustn't we? It would look bad if I let you go home alone.—Good +heavens, how tired you are! You can hardly sit on your horse." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta, the mischief-maker, waited with equanimity for Barnaby +to come home. He had brought Susan back and gone off again on a fresh +horse, giving her no opportunity of a passage-at-arms with him. +</P> + +<P> +When he did return his coolness was disappointing. She waited until +she could contain herself no longer. +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't you ask after Susan?" she said at last. He looked up then. +His clothes had dried on him, he had changed lazily into slippers, and +was warming his shins at the fire. They had finished the day with a +clinking run. "She's not ill?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +"I put her to bed," said Lady Henrietta, "when she came in. The poor +child could hardly move.... I suppose you bullied her frightfully when +she turned up?" +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby went on stirring his tea and stretching himself to the blaze. +</P> + +<P> +"I told her to have a hot bath and a good long rest," he said, in a +grandmotherly tone. "What did you expect? Were you hoping that I +should beat her?" +</P> + +<P> +"I was hoping all kinds of things," said Lady Henrietta. +</P> + +<P> +"Such as—?" +</P> + +<P> +She lost all patience. What was the use of plotting if nothing she +could devise would rouse him? Anything would be more satisfactory than +that maddening smile of his. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you want to break the child's heart?" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +For a moment she fancied that he was startled; she could not see his +face so well, but the cup clattered in his hand. Then she discovered +that he was laughing at her. +</P> + +<P> +"Has Susan complained?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +"She?" said Lady Henrietta. "Oh, how little you understand her! +She'll never complain of you. All I hear I have to screw out of other +people. From what they tell me—! Oh, <I>she'll</I> never complain, though +you and your Julia make yourselves a by-word!" +</P> + +<P> +She paused there, confident that there would be an outburst. Her +triumphant expectation was dashed; she was nearly struck dumb with +astonishment when she heard his voice. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a queer world, mother." +</P> + +<P> +This was indeed serious. He was not even angry;—and she had hoped to +make him furious. She scanned him anxiously, stricken with alarm. +</P> + +<P> +"You aren't well?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm a little bothered," he said. "Look here, mother; supposing—well, +supposing a man were horribly, irretrievably, fond of a woman,—and +would be a regular cur if he let her know;—would you condemn him for +building up a kind of rampart, playing with fire that he knew couldn't +burn him, to keep him from losing his head, and hurting the thing +he—the thing that was precious to him? Oh, damn it all, you can't +possibly understand." +</P> + +<P> +It was plain as a pikestaff. Lady Henrietta was justified of her +mischief-making. Something must be done. There was law and order in +any tactics that might vex the siren who was still robbing her of her +boy. Never in this world would there be peace between her and Julia. +</P> + +<P> +"If," she said, "you want me to believe that you married Susan to stick +her up like a ninepin between you and a woman who threw you over, who +can't bear us to imagine you are consoled——!" +</P> + +<P> +She broke off indignantly, but Barnaby would not quarrel. He got up +and laid his hand caressingly on her shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't excite yourself, mother," he said. "I was talking nonsense. So +are you.... If I were you I wouldn't meddle. It's more dangerous than +you know." +</P> + +<P> +Then he went away to change out of his hunting clothes, and she watched +his departure with a wistful exasperation, lying back on her sofa. +</P> + +<P> +"What a nuisance a heart is!" she said to herself. "He would have had +it out with me but for that." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VII +</H3> + +<P> +Susan was in the garden. +</P> + +<P> +There had been a frost in the night, and the bushes crackled; the late +winter sun was thawing it in the branches. Behind the cloudy glass in +the greenhouses were primulas and hyacinths, and all manner of scented +things, a bright blur against the panes; but she walked rather the +slippery paths in the lifeless garden. +</P> + +<P> +She tried to picture the blackened tufts tall spikes of blossom, and +the long line of rose trees, all muffled in dried fern, a bewildering +lane of sweetness. Imagination failed her. The blackbird that shot +out of the yew tree, screaming his sharp, sweet call; the little +wagtail running at a wise distance in the path behind;—they might +guess and remember what they would find in spring. She would be gone +then; she would have stepped off the stage. +</P> + +<P> +Foolishly she counted up the memories she would carry with her, looked +back at the great old house, so warm inside. Strange to think of the +time, so impossibly near, when Barnaby would release her, would tell +her that he had made his arrangements for her to slip out of this +fantastic life without scandal. +</P> + +<P> +Well, she had played up to him; she had never lifted a miserable face, +imploring him not to make her suffer so. +</P> + +<P> +Something was choking in her throat. She had not realized how utterly +she must pass out of his life until it struck her that she would never +see one of these English flowers. The garden became unbearable, +taunting her with its unknown mysteries, its hidden promise; and she +hurried down the weather-stained wooden steps into the park. +</P> + +<P> +There were rabbit tracks in the grass, and live things rustled in the +spinney. A mat of beech-leaves kept the primroses warm. She leant +wistfully over the rail, gazing down from the slatted bridge at the +water. It was rushing past, very deep. +</P> + +<P> +And then she found a snowdrop.... +</P> + +<P> +She heard the dogs scampering and looked up. +</P> + +<P> +"There you are," said Barnaby, putting his arm through hers in friendly +fashion. "—The servants, you know!" he reminded her in parenthesis, +jerking his head towards the distant windows. "Let's gratify 'em, poor +souls. They'll like to see us arm in arm." +</P> + +<P> +He threw a stick to the dogs, and they scurried down the bank to +retrieve it, but, missing it, found distraction in rummaging for a +water rat. Then he turned again to Susan. She had plucked the +snowdrop. That at least was given to her.... +</P> + +<P> +"You looked like that flower," he said, unexpectedly, "when I saw you +first." +</P> + +<P> +She answered him valiantly. +</P> + +<P> +"Was I so pale with fright?" +</P> + +<P> +"I wasn't thinking of that," he said; "but—the thing hasn't been so +difficult, has it, after all? I didn't ask too much of you? We have +been good comrades and all that, haven't we, Susan? You have never +wished——?" +</P> + +<P> +Wished it undone? She could not speak. It was over. He was going to +tell her that it was over. She thought of that far-off night of +amazement, of her panic-stricken impulse, of his hand on her shoulder +that had stopped her flight.... Ah, it had been worth it all. +Passionately she was glad of it. She had had so much. +</P> + +<P> +"No," she said, "I have never wished——" and, like him, she left the +words unfinished. +</P> + +<P> +And then, with the past close upon her, she forgot everything but him. +How she used to think of him, dream of him, dead, who had come to her +rescue! +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" she cried softly, touching his rough tweed sleeve, "isn't it +wonderful that you are alive!" +</P> + +<P> +They stood a minute or two in silence, neither speaking, and then +Barnaby broke the spell. +</P> + +<P> +"Why did you wander down here in all that drenching grass?" he said. +"Your feet are wet." +</P> + +<P> +She began to laugh, helplessly, and almost against her will. +</P> + +<P> +"How like a man!" she said. "You all think it the direst calamity that +can happen. You remind me of Vernon Whitford, who, when the poor +heroine was despairing, was principally troubled because her boots were +damp." +</P> + +<P> +"I know," said Barnaby. "That's my mother's beloved book. She got me +to read it too. Some of it stumped me, but I remember that much. How +did it go?" his voice dropped. "'He clasped the visionary little feet, +to warm them on his breast.'" +</P> + +<P> +It hurt her to feel her cheek burning scarlet. There was no reason. +She hurried to defend herself from the wild fancies that might fill a +dangerous pause. +</P> + +<P> +"If," she said, and it was anger at herself that made her voice +unsteady, "I had thrown myself over this bridge into the river, you +would have cried out indignantly—'She'll catch cold!'" +</P> + +<P> +"I might," he said gravely. "We are material wretches. You must come +back with me and change your stockings." +</P> + +<P> +He marched her towards the house. One startled, serious look he gave +her, but his voice maintained the determined lightness with which it +was necessary to face the realities of their bargain. The funny side +of it was the only side that would bear looking at. +</P> + +<P> +"You're not impatient?" he said. "You like the hunting? and the life +over here? Can you stand it a little longer? We'll clear as soon as +we decently can, and think out the tragedy that shall part us." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said; she was a little breathless. The windows yonder were +winking flame; it looked as if the house was on fire, but it was only +the setting sun.... +</P> + +<P> +"There's that horse my mother presented to you," he went on. "You will +have to keep him as a souvenir. Hang him round your neck in a locket, +what?" +</P> + +<P> +She could but laugh at his whimsical suggestion. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll keep nothing," she said. "An actress doesn't claim the stage +properties; her paper crown, her gilt goblet, her royal dresses. Not a +poor strolling actress like me, at least. Please, please—" her voice +shook a little. He must be made to understand so much, jest and +earnest. "Let me go out as you snuff a candle." +</P> + +<P> +"Will you?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +They had nearly reached the house; the glancing windows that had shone +afire in their eyes were dark. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't come out to plan tragedies," said Barnaby. "I was sent to +fetch you. The Duchess is in there with my mother. There's the Hunt +Ball on in a day or two, and she wants us to dine and go with her +party. I think she has some notion of keeping her eye on you. She +thinks that I treat you badly." +</P> + +<P> +Susan hung back. +</P> + +<P> +"Must I go?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course," he said cheerily. "I'd never hear the last of it if I +went without you. And my mother is awfully keen on you eclipsing the +rest. She's sending in to the bank for all the family trinkets." +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder you are not afraid of my running away with them," she flung +at him recklessly. +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby laughed at her as one might at a foolish child. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," he said. "I'll be there, mounting guard." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +The Duchess was lodged in a ramshackle way over a shop. She was not +particular. After hiring all the stabling that was to be had in +Melton, she had packed herself into a few odd rooms, approached by a +dark entry and a narrow stair. It made her feel, she said, like an +eagle. +</P> + +<P> +But sometimes her hospitality outdid her accommodation. On the night +of the ball she had asked as many people as could be squeezed into her +dining-room; all intimate enough not to mind rubbing elbows; and dinner +was a scramble. +</P> + +<P> +"The youngest," she proposed, "shall sit with his back to the door, and +duck when the plates are handed in over his head.... Do be careful. I +put a little man there last year, but when the door opened he used to +chuck up his head like a horse, and smashed no end of china." +</P> + +<P> +Having settled this, she threw up a window and rang a bell violently up +and down. +</P> + +<P> +"That is for dinner," she said. "It has to be cooked outside, and my +people dawdle so. Would you believe it, I was ten minutes ringing for +my maid when I came in from hunting. She lodges a few doors higher up, +and I had quite a crowd in the street." +</P> + +<P> +"I remember," said Kilgour, "last time I dined with you, one or two +bets were laid as to what was happening to the soup in the street +below." +</P> + +<P> +"Accidents do happen," she acknowledged. "It isn't quite true, +however, that I stuck out my head once and caught them scooping up the +sauce." +</P> + +<P> +Susan, wedged in a corner between Kilgour and another equally massive +person, was puzzled by the face of a woman opposite, who was smiling at +her. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you know me?" said she. "I recognized you by the dress you have +on. I am Mélisande." +</P> + +<P> +She noticed the girl's bewildered look at her yellow hair. +</P> + +<P> +"I keep a black transformation for the shop," she said. "My own idea. +But didn't you know my nose? How dear of you to forget it. People +call it my trade mark, and say it's Jewish. The worst is, I haven't +really shut up shop. I have a young hedgehog to chaperon here +to-night. Oh, I am perfectly unashamed!—She is all prickles, but +worth a great deal of money. I really couldn't bring her down with me, +so she is coming by herself in a special train, or some such +extravagance. I thought she might do for Rackham." +</P> + +<P> +"What?" said Barnaby. "Aren't you rather hard on my cousin?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is because he is your cousin," said Mélisande, "I am offering him +the hedgehog. Have you ever considered what your reappearance meant to +him? Don't we all know how hard up he is, and what a boon your +inheritance would have been? If I don't step in with my benefaction +he'll possibly murder you." +</P> + +<P> +"Scarcely!" said Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +"Let me see," said Mélisande. "Give me your hand." +</P> + +<P> +But he would not. +</P> + +<P> +"You will frighten my wife," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Give me the glass he was drinking out of," said Mélisande. Barnaby's +neighbour pushed it over to her, and she peered into it with alarming +gravity. Silence waited on her prediction. She raised the glass, +swung it round thrice, and spilt a little water. +</P> + +<P> +"I've thrown out a misfortune," she said. "A terrible misfortune," and +looked round for applause. +</P> + +<P> +"I am eternally obliged to you," said Barnaby. "Thanks!" But she +would not give up his glass. +</P> + +<P> +"There are strange things here," she said, clasping her hands, and +gazing into it with half-shut eyes. Barnaby reached over and captured +the glass. +</P> + +<P> +"We don't want her to reveal all our secrets, do we, Susan?" he said, +and saved the situation by drinking the secrets down. +</P> + +<P> +His presence of mind turned the laugh against Mélisande, whose +expression was a study. Ignoring public ridicule, she affected to +meditate on his disturbing action. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish I could remember what that portends," she said solemnly. "I +rather think it was fatal." +</P> + +<P> +But Barnaby refused to be overawed. He was in a mood of tearing gaiety +that Susan did not quite understand. She herself, although she knew +that it was absurd, had had a superstitious fear of that glass of +water.... +</P> + +<P> +"Let's go on to the ball," said the Duchess. +</P> + +<P> +In the general confusion the girl found herself on the stairs with +Mélisande, still ruffled. Somehow their glances met. +</P> + +<P> +"Barnaby would turn anything into a joke. He was always like that," +said she. "He hasn't any sense of decorum." +</P> + +<P> +"—And you witches," remarked Kilgour, who was close behind, "haven't a +sense of humour." +</P> + +<P> +The sorceress pursed her lips. +</P> + +<P> +"Was there anything—bad?" asked Susan. +</P> + +<P> +She was ashamed of the foolish impulse that made her ask. Mélisande +looked at her indulgently. But her disclaimer was too hasty to be +convincing. In a way, it was more disquieting than if she had +overwhelmed the sinner's wife with evil prognostications. +</P> + +<P> +"There was nothing in it. Nothing!" she said, but her voice lacked +conviction. +</P> + +<P> +"That's right. Don't frighten us," said Kilgour. +</P> + +<P> +Susan was not frightened. But she could not shake off an unaccountable +nervousness;—could not forget Mélisande's wild sayings.... Why was +she afraid of Rackham? +</P> + +<P> +It was odd that as soon as they came into the ballroom her eyes should +light on him. Everybody was arriving at once, jammed in under the +gallery;—and Rackham was pushing through the crowd to her side, and +she could not fly. +</P> + +<P> +"What is the matter?" said Barnaby. "Why, you're trembling?" +</P> + +<P> +The truth came out before she could stop herself, though she could not +explain it. +</P> + +<P> +"I am shy," she said. "—And I don't want to dance with your cousin." +</P> + +<P> +He did not scoff at her. He took her programme and scribbled his name +across it. +</P> + +<P> +"See," he said. "Whatever he asks you for, say you're dancing it with +me. How will that do? Fill it in with any of the others, of course, +just as you like; and let me know what I am booked for later." +</P> + +<P> +He moved on in the swaying throng, distracted by somebody signalling to +him, hailed on all sides, nodding to his friends. Other men were +surrounding Susan. She could smile at them now, although Rackham was +at her side. +</P> + +<P> +"They're just finishing number one," he said. "Will you give me number +two?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am dancing it with my husband." +</P> + +<P> +"Number three, then?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am dancing it with my husband." +</P> + +<P> +Another claimed her attention; she gave him a dance quickly. Kilgour, +who could not get near her, held up five fingers to her above the +bobbing heads in the crowd. She counted them gaily, putting down the +number. +</P> + +<P> +Rackham was still at her side, insisting, but her answer was the same. +He looked at her queerly. +</P> + +<P> +"You seem to be dancing everything, more or less, with your husband." +</P> + +<P> +Kitty Drake, floating in like a smoke wreath, put in her word. +</P> + +<P> +"A husband," she said sapiently, "is the only possible partner for a +frock like hers. <I>I</I> always come to the Melton Ball in rags." +</P> + +<P> +But when Rackham had departed, she looked curiously at Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"You were rude to him," she whispered. "Was it the frock, or what? I +am safe." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," said Susan. "It is very unreasonable of me, but—I am +always a little frightened when he is near me." +</P> + +<P> +Kitty seemed to think that she understood. +</P> + +<P> +"Reason?" she said. "My good girl, I've known more women wrecked +because they were ashamed to give in to their frightened instincts than +I dare remember. Don't begin to reason! It's simply a machine for +making mistakes; it never mends them. Go and be happy. Go and dance +with your husband!" +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby had come to her, and there was pity as well as liking in +Kitty's little push. +</P> + +<P> +"Shall we begin?" he said, and his arm went round her as she swung out +with him on to the shining floor. Dimly she was aware of music, of +lights and people; an atmosphere of enchantment. +</P> + +<P> +"Tired?" he said, pausing. +</P> + +<P> +"Tired? Oh, no," she panted, as if he had asked her the strangest +question. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't know you could ride," he said, "and I didn't know you danced. +I really know very little about you, Susan." +</P> + +<P> +They had stopped a minute near a ring of idlers who had drifted on to +the floor, and somebody caught up his words. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you never danced with her before, Barnaby?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," he said, and bent to gather her train himself, that the weight of +it should not tire her arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you hear that?" chuckled the man behind them. "Never rode with +her, never danced with her. What on earth did he find to do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Made love to her, of course." +</P> + +<P> +Susan felt his arm tighten round her as they whirled into the dizzy +spaces. +</P> + +<P> +"I've never made love to you, have I, Susan?" +</P> + +<P> +He was breathing quicker; her cheek almost touched his as he bent his +head; her pulses were beating in tune with his. In a sudden faintness +she shut her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +And then the music crashed into silence and she was leaning against a +pillar, stupidly watching the brilliant scene. There was a great buzz +of talking under the gallery, and Barnaby was turning to his friends. +She heard his voice now and then amidst the babel, but it was Kilgour +and Gregory Drake who were trying to amuse her, picking out the +celebrities, good and wicked, in that assembly of glittering dresses +and scarlet coats. +</P> + +<P> +"You'll notice," Kilgour was saying, "it's the older men who are +dancing, and the young 'uns are looking on. They've no stamina, the +lads! Do you see that woman like a tub, with hungry eyes?—She was a +beauty once, but when her admirers began to slink off she went in for +spirits—that awfully unpleasant kind that you can't absorb. She's +always calling 'em up and setting 'em on to tell tales about her +dearest friends." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Gregory, "it's really more unhealthy to offend her now than +when she was an anarchist and used to spring little clicking machines +on you and offered to explain how they worked. She got into hot water +once, while it lasted, making herself a side-show at a bazaar. Some +foreign personage was attending, and a rumour started that she meant to +wind up her clock in earnest. It emptied the hall like winking. The +Board of Charitables were no end annoyed." +</P> + +<P> +"They say her fellow anarchists begged her to take her name off their +books. Said she brought 'em into contempt." +</P> + +<P> +"That wasn't why," said Gregory. "It was because she would bring Toby, +her mastiff, to all their meetings. He and Biff, the thing she carried +in her muff, used to scare 'em out of their lives." +</P> + +<P> +"Look at that shop window!" said Kilgour, as another woman, smothered +in diamonds, canted past. +</P> + +<P> +"American, isn't she?—Cummerbatch married her for her money, and of +course they're wretched. It never pays——" +</P> + +<P> +Susan was conscious that the speaker had checked himself, in his face a +ludicrous awkwardness. Had the world jumped to a similar conclusion +about her and Barnaby? Instinctively she turned her head. She wanted +to share the joke with him, to see his delighted appreciation;—but he +was not near. +</P> + +<P> +And he did not dance with her any more. The night dragged on, and one +man after another bent his sleek head and offered her his arm. All +Barnaby's friends were rallying to her flag. Still, in its turn, would +come a star in her card, a dance that found her waiting for a partner +who did not come. +</P> + +<P> +After one of these blanks she came face to face with him in the +Lancers. He was romping as violently as the rest, charging down the +room;—and as the chain of dancers burst it was his arm that kept her +from falling into a bank of pale tulips against the wall. +</P> + +<P> +"Wasn't the last dance ours?" he said. "I'm awfully sorry:—but you +are getting on all right, aren't you? Plenty of substitutes? I've +been watching them buzzing round you." +</P> + +<P> +She smiled at him bravely. How like life this dancing was ... meeting +and parting, and strange companions.... For the first and last time +she was linking arms with Julia. +</P> + +<P> +Later on she saw Rackham on his way to her. It was almost the first +time that evening that she was unsurrounded. She had felt him watching +her; awaiting his time to swoop. Barnaby had not been visible during +the last two dances, and this, alas! was one that was glorified with a +star. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Rackham, before she could speak, "I know;—you are dancing +it with your husband." +</P> + +<P> +There was no anger in his voice; only a kind of sardonic amusement, as +if he could afford to forgive her for that rebuff. She looked vainly +for Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +"As a matter of fact," said Rackham coolly, "he has delegated his +privilege to me." +</P> + +<P> +"I am tired," she said. It was true; very tired and forsaken. +</P> + +<P> +"Then we'll sit it out," said Rackham, no whit abashed. He carried his +point over her weariness; she wondered dully why she had been afraid of +him, and she was too sad to struggle. She let him take her up the +stairs into the far corner of the gallery, now deserted, and sat with +her arms on the rail, gazing absently on the flitting brightness that +mocked her wistful mood below. +</P> + +<P> +All at once she started. Her wandering thoughts were fixed. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you saying to me?" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +Rackham was very near her, his head bent, his voice low and passionate +in her ears. +</P> + +<P> +"What I have always wanted to say to you," he said. "You guessed it, +didn't you? You were a little afraid of me;—just a little. You've +been trying to put it off.... But don't you remember the first time we +met—and that afternoon down by the spinney, when I told you I was your +friend?" +</P> + +<P> +She began to shiver. His hand, shutting the idle fan, was imprisoning +hers as it clenched itself on her knee. +</P> + +<P> +"I was not listening to you!" she cried desperately. "I was not +thinking of you. How dare you?" +</P> + +<P> +"What were you thinking of then?" said Rackham. "Not of Barnaby, who +has gone back to his first love and forgotten that you exist." +</P> + +<P> +"He sent you to me," she said piteously. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, that was a lie," said Rackham. "He didn't even trouble as much as +that." +</P> + +<P> +She had sprung to her feet and her face was as white as ashes. For how +long had this man been telling her that he loved her? She had been +deaf to him, had caught his words without understanding their import, +murmuring "Yes" to him, while her eyes and her heart were searching for +one figure to pass in the dizzy scene below. +</P> + +<P> +"You are mad," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"Mad if you like," said Rackham. "After all, I am Barnaby's cousin, +and it's probably in our blood. Look at him, still crazed over a woman +who jilted him years ago!" +</P> + +<P> +She flung up her head, compelled by a piteous instinct to play her part. +</P> + +<P> +"And I am Barnaby's wife," she said bravely. +</P> + +<P> +He looked at her fixedly, making no motion to let her pass him. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +The band seemed to burst into clamour and die away; but they were all +dancing; there must be music still, although she could not hear +anything but these two syllables. She kept her eyes steady. Perhaps +he did not grasp the significance of his words. +</P> + +<P> +"You have insulted me enough," she said to him slowly. +</P> + +<P> +A wild eagerness lighted his face. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not insulting you," he said. "I leave that to him.... I'm asking +you to be my wife, Susan. Let him go. Let him release himself. Leave +him to the woman from whom you can't keep him.—Come away with me,—and +marry me!" +</P> + +<P> +"I—cannot," she said. +</P> + +<P> +He had to fall back then and let her go. But he followed her down the +stairs. The light in his eyes flickered out, leaving a sullen +admiration. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said, "I warn you. I've a bit of a score to settle with +Barnaby." +</P> + +<P> +She turned on him. She had reached the bottom; her foot was on the +crimson carpet that lay under the gallery; a little way off a handful +of men were talking with their backs turned, hilarious at the climax of +a sporting tale. She looked at the dark face above her; her lips were +white now, her eyes were blazing. "Are you threatening—him?" she +cried, and the devil in Rackham smiled. +</P> + +<P> +She took a few rash steps, hardly knowing in what direction. +</P> + +<P> +"You needn't look for him here," said Rackham bitterly. "Don't let his +friends think you jealous." +</P> + +<P> +From where she stood she could see in at the open doorway of one of the +sitting-out rooms, a dim, mysterious haunt of palms, the chairs drawn +back in the shadow. Was not that Barnaby and a woman in a glittering +green dress, listening with her face uplifted—? +</P> + +<P> +Ah, what right had she to run to him?—One of the men standing about +under the gallery had looked round. She heard him mutter it was a +shame. What was a shame? Not anything that could be spoken or done to +her.... She threw up her head, walking straight on as if she were +walking in her sleep. The Duchess and Kitty Drake were together +half-way up the room; they moved down to meet her, exchanging looks. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear," said the Duchess solemnly, "you look fatigued." +</P> + +<P> +"I am tired," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought so. Fagged out. You have danced too much. Major Willes—" +</P> + +<P> +She called a man to her side and sent him on an immediate errand. When +he was gone she returned to Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"I've sent somebody to fetch your husband," she said. "He ought to +take more care of you. I shall scold him." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, don't!" she cried faintly, but her champions took no notice; and +soon Barnaby himself came swinging along the room. +</P> + +<P> +"Barnaby," said the Duchess, "you ought to be ashamed of yourself. +Take your wife up to supper." +</P> + +<P> +The first rush was over upstairs in the supper-room, and Barnaby found +a corner. She sat with him at a little round table behind a tall plant +that shut off the world with its wide green fronds, some sheltering +exotic. And he was pouring out champagne, a drink she hated. She put +her hand over the top of the glass, and he caught it and lifted it off, +holding it in his while he poured on unchecked. +</P> + +<P> +"It's not good stuff,—but it's good for you. Drink!" he said. +</P> + +<P> +He seemed to be laughing at her from an immeasurable distance; his +prescription had made her dizzy. +</P> + +<P> +"It will go off in a minute; you wanted it badly," he was saying, in a +voice that sounded far away and unlike his own. +</P> + +<P> +"It has gone to my head," she said, appealing to him. "I'm afraid I +shall say something silly. Don't let me. Don't let me talk....'" +</P> + +<P> +"Why not? There is nobody listening," he was saying, encouraging her; +amused. +</P> + +<P> +And Susan heard her own voice. Her head was spinning; she was talking +against her will. +</P> + +<P> +"Why did you never come back and dance with me?" she was asking. It +seemed to her that there was a long pause, and then his answer came, +low and close. +</P> + +<P> +"I did not dare," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," she said piteously;—no, not she, but the imprudent, tired girl +whose head was giddy, and who did not know what she said. "Oh,—how +funny!" +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps he was throwing dust in people's eyes,—trying to blind them to +his fluttering, like a burnt moth, round Julia. If they saw him +sitting up here in a corner with her, and she was happy, they would +think there was nothing in it. He must be trying to make her laugh. +Well, she must help him. She could say something funny too. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a man downstairs," she told him, "who asked me to marry him." +</P> + +<P> +"What?" said Barnaby. He started as if he had been shot. +</P> + +<P> +"He said he loved me," she repeated. "He wished me to go away and +release you and marry him." +</P> + +<P> +"Who?" +</P> + +<P> +"You were with the only woman you ever cared for. That was what he +said. I had nobody to keep him away from me...." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I was with the woman I cared for, was I?" he said. "And who the +devil is it wants horsewhipping when I get at him?" +</P> + +<P> +The deadly calm in his voice arrested her. What had she said to him, +babbling in her unhappiness? Alarm steadied her; the dizziness was +passing. +</P> + +<P> +"I will not tell you," she said, forgetting how vainly she had looked +for him to shield her. +</P> + +<P> +His eyes were blue as steel. She had never seen him angry until +to-night. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll make you," he said. +</P> + +<P> +They stared at each other a minute, her eyes as unflinching as his were +hard. Across the silly little supper table with its glass and silver, +its green, gold-tipped bottles, and its tumbled flowers, he leaned and +gripped her hands. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you tell him you are not my wife?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +There was a whiff of scent in their neighbourhood; the great green +fronds spreading behind him were rudely stirred. A passing couple must +have brushed against that screen on their way to the stairs. A burst +of merriment came from the upper end of the room. But these two were +as much alone as if it had been a desert. +</P> + +<P> +So that was why he was angry. He believed that she had broken faith.... +</P> + +<P> +"I told him nothing," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby took a long breath. She felt his grip relax. +</P> + +<P> +"You are a good girl," he said. "You wouldn't break your promise. I +suppose I've no right to order you:—I'll find him out for myself. +Tell me one thing, and we'll let it go—" +</P> + +<P> +She waited. There had been something very bitter to her in his relief. +All he asked of her was to keep the secret until he was tired of the +joke.... +</P> + +<P> +"Susan," he said. "Did you want to tell him?" +</P> + +<P> +What did that matter to him? Supposing she had—wanted? Supposing she +would have given worlds to exchange her difficult post for one so +different, so secure?—Her cheek burned. +</P> + +<P> +"I would sooner have died," she said. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Rackham stood under the gallery in a black mood, watching the Duchess +send her messenger to hunt out the missing husband. He saw Julia, +bereft of her cavalier, pausing uncertainly; and a satiric impulse +moved him to join her. +</P> + +<P> +"Come and have supper with me," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"I am engaged to Barnaby," she said, a little defiantly. +</P> + +<P> +"They've sent him up with his wife," he retorted, and his mocking tone +seemed to please her. She submitted and pressed his arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor Barnaby!" she said. "It's an awful muddle." +</P> + +<P> +She was looking very lovely and pathetic. The man who had once been +entangled a little way in her toils himself and, having failed to +succumb, was naturally inclined to despise her, admired her pose. It +was hardly to be wondered at if Barnaby, who had been mad about her +once, should be incapable of resisting the allurement of these dark +eyes, so deep and so reproachful. He could not help speculating how +far she was in earnest, and how far a hurt vanity inspired her. +Curiosity piqued him. +</P> + +<P> +"I understand," he said gravely, as they passed out and began to climb +to the supper-room. It amused him to feel that her confidential +attitude, her claim on his sympathy, was a subtle intimation that he +had been the unlucky cause of the fatal misunderstanding, and must +therefore be kind to her. All at once he had a perverse inclination to +cast himself in the scale again. Why not? It would be a bitter joke +on Barnaby, and it suited his savage humour. +</P> + +<P> +"I like your dress," he said. His change of tone surprised her. She +glanced at him swiftly, half-turning as she mounted, her green garments +rippling as she lifted her train on one smooth arm, displaying a whirl +of skirts and one little green sequin slipper. "Ah," she said, "down +below they've been reviling me for a mermaid, and complaining bitterly +of my tail." +</P> + +<P> +"And so," said Rackham, "the little slipper is betrayed, to dispel the +illusion?" +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps," said Julia. She used, at one time, to smile up in his face +like that.... A vindictive sense of his power possessed him, +flattering him on this night of defeat. In his heart he was still +fiercely worshipping the pale girl who had flouted him, clinging +obstinately—Oh, she was a fool, and so was Barnaby;—and the irony of +it was that he had only to lift his finger—! +</P> + +<P> +"We'll find a place by ourselves," he said, confidentially, passing +into the room. Inside it he took a step or two, glancing about him. +There were vacant seats on the right, but the tables had a battered +air. Farther down, perhaps—; yes, farther down, near the wall. He +turned back to look for his partner, and the sight of her face amazed +him. With a promptitude that surprised himself he pulled her back, and +got her outside the room. Was it possible that he had been mistaken in +her, or could a woman push affectation as far as that? +</P> + +<P> +She broke into a kind of gasping exclamation that was not intelligible +at first, and he stared at her in limitless amazement. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, poor Barnaby, oh, poor Barnaby!" she repeated. There was a ring +of triumph in her incoherent voice. She had gone mad, he fancied. +</P> + +<P> +"Hush!" he said. "They'll hear you." +</P> + +<P> +He was glad he had shut that door, and thankful there was not a soul on +the stairs. +</P> + +<P> +"I was right!" she said, "I was right.... I knew it! You were there +when she came here first as his widow, and I told his mother to her +face it was a wicked plot!" +</P> + +<P> +"Julia," said Rackham, "you don't know what you are saying." +</P> + +<P> +She controlled herself a little. He held her wrist. +</P> + +<P> +"Didn't you see them in there?" she asked. "Didn't you hear him?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you mean Barnaby," he said, "I was looking out for our places. I +didn't notice whereabouts they were till you clutched at me. They +didn't see us at all." +</P> + +<P> +"I heard him," she said, in the same wild key of triumph. "I heard his +own words.—He said she was not his wife." +</P> + +<P> +"Hush!" said Rackham vehemently, and then, more slowly—"Julia, are you +sure of that?" +</P> + +<P> +She tried to imitate him, to whisper, but she was too excited. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure!" she said, laughing hysterically. "I know his voice so well. +There was a green plant between us——" +</P> + +<P> +"Wait," said Rackham. "There's somebody coming. We'll go down. Damn! +there are people everywhere—! Get a shawl, and we'll go out into the +street." +</P> + +<P> +Julia resisted him. +</P> + +<P> +"Why are you dragging me away?" she rebelled. "You can't keep me +quiet. Think how I've been treated! I could scream it to all the +world!" +</P> + +<P> +A woman could not have silenced her, but her emotional nature yielded +finally to the rough coaxing of a man. He almost swung her downstairs +into the draughty passage and, raiding the ladies' cloakroom, snatched +up the first wrap that lay to his hand. +</P> + +<P> +A chill wind blew up the steps, but there was still a persistent crew +of gazers loitering in the street below. Rackham led her past, and +they strolled a little way into the darkness, lighted at intervals by a +twinkling lamp. There was no danger there of her making scenes. +</P> + +<P> +"Now," he said. "Now, Julia—!" +</P> + +<P> +"They shall all hear the truth!" she cried. She hung on his arm, +gesticulating. +</P> + +<P> +"You wouldn't betray him?" said Rackham, sounding her. +</P> + +<P> +"Him?" she said. "Poor Barnaby! He and I are the victims. Don't you +understand yet? When she thought he was dead his mother—just to crush +me, just to humble me in the dust!—hired this creature. Don't you +remember how she sprung her on us? Who had heard of a marriage? Oh, +it was a judgment on her when he came home!" +</P> + +<P> +"She'd hardly look at the case in that light," he said. But Julia was +impervious to irony. +</P> + +<P> +"He should have considered me first," she said. "Why do men always +sacrifice the one they love best? It's a kind of cruel unselfishness. +I was his dearest, a part of himself, and so—and so I'm to bear this +trial—! But he might have trusted <I>me</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +She was either laughing or sobbing, he was not sure which; the cloak +that muffled her hid her face; but her voice raged on, half furious, +half triumphant. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course, she's blackmailing him," she said. "That wretch has got +him in the hollow of her hand! If he disowned her it would all come +out, and it would disgrace his mother. He was always quixotic. And so +he is temporizing till he can bribe her to disappear. But Lady +Henrietta has no claim on my forbearance!" +</P> + +<P> +She had to pause for breath, and he managed to get in his word. +</P> + +<P> +"I am going to advise you," he said, "to keep quiet over this." +</P> + +<P> +They had come to the end of the street, and were walking back. A +dazzle of lights in the distance marked the Corn Exchange. A motor +whirred past, its lamps sending a brief glare that was like a +searchlight. Already a few were leaving. +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" she said, staring at him. +</P> + +<P> +"You'll be a fool if you talk," he said. "If Barnaby is holding his +tongue for his mother's sake, is it likely he'll give way? And you +have no proofs. Whatever you say, he'll deny it. He mightn't forgive +you, either. Be sensible.... Wait a bit, and I'll make inquiries." +</P> + +<P> +It struck her then as odd that he had accepted her words himself, +without argument, with no incredulous opposition, such as she was +beginning to realize must fall to her lot if she published her tale +abroad. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you know from the first?" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +"No," said Rackham, "I didn't know. But I guessed." +</P> + +<P> +They had nearly reached the steps, and he slackened, regarding her +narrowly; but already she was subdued. It was characteristic of her +that she had never seen his admiration for the impostor. Vast as her +imagination was, it was blinded by centring on herself. +</P> + +<P> +"And you'll help me? You are on my side?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +He knew then that he had prevailed. +</P> + +<P> +"As long as you are wise," he said. They went up the steps together. +</P> + +<P> +"I had better find my party," she said hurriedly. "I want to go home. +Poor Barnaby!—I can't bear to meet him. I am too agitated." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Rackham took back the borrowed cloak and strolled along the passage, in +no hurry to return to the ballroom. People were passing in and out; +some of them were saying good-night, and one pair were wrangling on +their way to the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Who was the man you were flirting with in the street?" said the lover +in an angry stutter. The lady scoffed. +</P> + +<P> +"What a story!" +</P> + +<P> +"My brother saw you go out. He came up and chaffed me." +</P> + +<P> +"Your brother is a donkey. It must have been someone else." +</P> + +<P> +"I tell you he recognized you by that chiffon fal-lal you wear!" +</P> + +<P> +Rackham stood on one side. Let them fight it out.... Then his mouth +hardened. What was he going to do? He had managed to prevent Julia +from spoiling it all, and as long as he could keep her quiet the cards +were in his hands. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VIII +</H3> + +<P> +"I won't let you go home," said the Duchess. "Barnaby can do as he +likes, but you're too tired to mind sleeping in a cupboard." +</P> + +<P> +She held Susan firmly by the arm as she spoke; she had motives. +Barnaby deserved to be punished; his conduct with Julia had really been +scandalous. But a worn-out girl, a wisp of white satin, was no match +for a naughty husband. She would burst into tears and forgive him. +Let Barnaby go home by himself, feeling guilty, and brood upon his +unkindness. <I>She</I> would tell Susan what to do to him in the morning. +</P> + +<P> +With rough kindness she hustled the girl away with her, and having +collected her party, ordered them to bed. +</P> + +<P> +"Because," she said, "until some of you are disposed of I can't tell +what to do with the others, and I want to know if there are beds enough +to go round." +</P> + +<P> +Susan was the first to be bundled into her attic, and lay wearily +listening to a far-off commotion. When at last the household had +settled down there was a fresh disturbance, and the elder of the two +foreign maids mounted, carrying an armful of pillows. +</P> + +<P> +The Duchess herself followed, to excuse the indicated invasion. She +was already in her dressing-gown. The maid set up a chair bed that had +stood, doubled up, in the corner, and was sent out of the room for a +minute. +</P> + +<P> +"I've come to apologize," said the Duchess, "for pitchforking a +stranger into your room like this; but I'm sorry for the woman. You +are the only one of them I can depend on not to be horrid to her." +</P> + +<P> +She looked round, measuring the space that was to be shared. "I hope," +she said, "you won't bump into each other. The truth is, I have a +shocking custom of sticking my head out of the window when something is +going on outside; and just as I was getting into bed I heard a +tremendous buzzing. Everybody must have started. If this was +somebody's motor gone wrong, I supposed I ought to offer my +hospitality. And it was. The chauffeur was grovelling; a man I knew +was storming at him; and a woman wringing her hands on the pavement. I +knew her too, perfectly, and she had no business in that man's car." +</P> + +<P> +She stopped to listen. +</P> + +<P> +"I am not," she said, "a universal mender. If people I don't +particularly care about are jumping out of frying-pans, I don't preach +at them eternal fire. But this fool of a woman had chosen to bolt +under my very nose. Providence had cast her upon my doorstep. So I +took the hint. Not being a heathen I really had to." +</P> + +<P> +The confidential maid was ascending with someone strange to the place, +who stumbled and chattered in halting French. +</P> + +<P> +"I poked my head farther out," said the Duchess, "and shouted—'Is that +you, Lady Cummerbatch? Have you had a breakdown?' and it was worth it +to see her jump. I don't in the least know what she answered; it +sounded hysterical. 'Well,' I said, 'leave your husband to tinker up +the machine; it will probably take him hours. I can put you up.'" +</P> + +<P> +"Her husband?" said Susan, puzzled. +</P> + +<P> +"Tact, my child, tact! I sent Fifine down to fetch her, and kept my +eye on him. She followed Fifine into the house like a lamb." +</P> + +<P> +She wrapped her dressing-gown closer round her, and prepared to depart. +</P> + +<P> +"I couldn't keep her in my room," she said; "I've two girls camping on +the floor. Besides, she would begin confessing everything, and I am +certain that I should smack her. Pretend that you are asleep. If she +cries, don't notice. Good night, my child." +</P> + +<P> +She patted Susan on the head, looking as if she would have kissed her, +but not being accustomed to caresses, did not quite know how. +</P> + +<P> +Then she wheeled round to receive the late visitor, holding up her +finger, and crying—"Hush!" very loud. +</P> + +<P> +Susan lay with her face turned from the light and her eyes shut, as she +had been bidden. She heard Fifine, after some careful whispering, +close the door and make her way down; she heard a smothered sobbing +from the improvised bed that almost blocked the chamber;—and then she +heard a stealthy noise in the room, and opened her eyes. On the wall +she could see the shadow of a person struggling into her clothes, and +evidently about to fly. Some instinct made the girl spring up and +fling herself against the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! Oh!" said the strange woman, tottering. "Let me out!" +</P> + +<P> +Susan looked her in the face. +</P> + +<P> +"If you want to go," she said, "I will call the Duchess." +</P> + +<P> +The stranger began to cry. She was thin and fair, with a faded skin +and unhappy eyes, outstared by a blaze of jewels. Susan remembered +seeing her at the ball. Kilgour had called her the Shop Window. +</P> + +<P> +"He's waiting for me. I must go with him," she cried, worked up to a +pitch of agitation that deprived her of self-control. +</P> + +<P> +"You shall not," the girl said. +</P> + +<P> +They both heard an engine vibrating far down below. The woman flew to +the window. And then the Duchess's strident voice struck into the +night from her own window underneath. +</P> + +<P> +"So glad the motor is working. Don't trouble about your wife, Sir +Richard. She's safely tucked up in bed." +</P> + +<P> +Then a furious backing and grinding, as the car started and rushed away +into the darkness, baulked of a passenger. +</P> + +<P> +Susan retired sedately into bed, since it was no longer necessary to +guard the door. The woman began to strip off her jewels, that she had +put on again, anyhow,—flinging them in a heap on the table. +</P> + +<P> +"Absurd, isn't it?" she said, in a high, unnatural key, "wearing all +these.... but I wasn't going to leave them behind." +</P> + +<P> +The girl said nothing; she was embarrassed. +</P> + +<P> +"The Duchess took him for Dicky," the prisoner rambled on. Perhaps she +was afraid of silence. "<I>You</I> guessed the truth. I saw you at the +ball to-night. They were all talking about you, and I liked your +diamonds. Did <I>your</I> husband marry you for your money?" +</P> + +<P> +Susan drew a sharp breath. Ah, this woman was more to be pitied than +she, who had brought sorrow upon herself. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you poor thing!" she said softly, sitting up in bed and clasping +her hands round her knees. +</P> + +<P> +Lady Cummerbatch was one of those lucky women who find solace in +lamentation. They are the fortunate ones, whose bitterness of heart +can be dissipated in bitter speech. +</P> + +<P> +"I've heard," she went on, too distracted about her own plight to be +conscious of the rank impertinence of which she was being guilty. +"I've heard all about your husband. He's the wild Barnaby Hill who was +jilted by an Irishwoman and disappeared and married abroad to vex her, +and then turned up after his people thought him dead. You're an +American too, though you are not my kind. They seem fond of you here; +they all take your part;—but what difference does it make? Aren't we +two miserable women?" +</P> + +<P> +She began to weep noisily, and then to shiver. Getting into bed, she +pulled her fur cloak over her shoulders, and sat hunched up, staring at +the light. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mind my not putting out the candle?" she said. "I can't bear +to lie worrying in the dark. If that auto hadn't stuck, and the +Duchess hadn't jumped me when I got out to see what was the matter, I'd +have been out of my misery.... I said to Sir Richard once—'You +married me for my money,' and he laughed in my face and said—'My good +young woman, you had an equivalent—you married me for my title.' And +then I just screamed, 'I married you for your title! Oh, yes, I +married you for your title!' till he banged himself out of the house." +</P> + +<P> +"But if that was not true——" said Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"True? It was all true," she sobbed. "The pity was it didn't keep +true. When I married that man I couldn't have told you if his eyes +were grey or green. But there—! It wears off with them and it wears +on with us." +</P> + +<P> +In her lamentation she continued to identify herself with her +compatriot; their common misfortune, as she conceived it, was mixed up +in her bewailing. +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't you try it, like me?" she said. "Why don't you run away +from him? If you cry and stamp and bluster it makes them vain, but +when they've lost you outright they miss you.... Oh, it's awful to +live with a man and watch him getting impatient because you are in his +way and he's tied to you;—to see him looking hard at you, thinking how +could he have paid the price! He tried to be civil at first, but his +face soon taught me.... I wonder how long were you deceived?" +</P> + +<P> +"I was never deceived," said Susan, hardly knowing she had uttered that +sigh aloud. Her arms were round the other woman now; a poor wretch who +had once been happy. Ah, with what pain would she not have gladly +purchased some mirage of happiness, some illusion that she was his ... +and beloved ... for half an hour! +</P> + +<P> +The haggard butterfly who had been cursed with riches dropped her voice +from its wailing tune to a whisper. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to France to-morrow," she said. "He won't like that. It +will be the same as striking him in the face. He to turn from me to +other women who had no money to give him—! When a man sees that what +he has tossed in the gutter is precious to another man, when he sees +how the other man picks it up,—he feels cheated. It hits him harder +than if you had killed yourself. I thought of <I>that</I> first. But don't +you do it! I knew just how he'd say—'Mad! quite mad!' and bury me and +forget me. He'll never lose sight of it if I go away like this—" and +her voice rose high—"<I>that</I> will let him know how I hate him!" +</P> + +<P> +But when her confidences had tired her out, and she loosed her clasp of +Susan, pulling up the quilt and sinking into a wearied slumber,—when +the girl lay gazing alone at a light that was burning dim;—there was a +cry in the silence. +</P> + +<P> +"I've come back, Dicky! Dicky, let me in—! I've come back." +</P> + +<P> +It was the woman who hated her husband, calling to him in her sleep. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Susan awakened in the morning with music in her ears. Dreaming, she +danced with Barnaby, and his arm was round her, his breath quick on her +cheek, his face not ... kind. +</P> + +<P> +And as the wild illumination of a dream sometimes teaches what a +stumbling consciousness dare not know, so the girl awoke trembling. +</P> + +<P> +But that dream of all dreams was madness. +</P> + +<P> +Into her waking mind came the thought of Rackham, the man who had said +he loved her. Had she not always been ill at ease with him, and what +was that but a warning instinct, divining, shrinking from the peril in +a man's admiration? But Barnaby and she had been such good comrades.... +</P> + +<P> +Quaint incidents crowded on her, scenes in the hunting field, Sunday +afternoons at the stables,—the day he had cut his finger and she had +run to him to bind it up;—the day he had told her the brim of her +riding hat was too narrow, and made her try on another that satisfied +his inspection.... Oh, they had honourably tried not to haunt each +other, but all the same.... Dear and safe memories; they blotted out +last night. +</P> + +<P> +She raised herself on her elbow and looked across the room at the +runaway. +</P> + +<P> +So a woman could sleep whom the casual kindness of an acquaintance had +saved from shipwreck; so a woman could sleep who had poured out her +soul to a stranger. +</P> + +<P> +Someone was tapping at the door. It was late. Ten, eleven, ah, quite +that; and Monsieur had come for Madame and brought her clothes. And +Miladi said Madame was to dress in her room, as one was so cramped up +here. +</P> + +<P> +The maid waited discreetly at the door, her sharp, foreign eyes taking +in everything, the other woman huddled up in bed, her clothes flung all +over the floor, her gems scattered recklessly on the table. +</P> + +<P> +Susan slipped on the dressing-gown that had been brought her, and was +following, Fifine going down in front as a picket, to see that the +coast was clear; when she heard her neighbour calling. Lady +Cummerbatch was sitting up in bed. +</P> + +<P> +"I made a fool of myself last night, didn't I?" she said. "Why didn't +you smother me with my pillow? Don't be afraid, I'm as wise as an old +hen this morning." She pulled the girl close enough to kiss. "You are +a dear; you are a dear!" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +Stretching out her arm to the dressing-table, she caught up something +from its disordered glitter, squeezing it into Susan's hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Keep it," she said. "I know you've heaps of your own. I saw them +last night. But I want you to have something to remember me by. I can +do nothing for anybody but give them things.... Do! Please me! I'd +have thrown myself out of that window if you hadn't been kind to me." +</P> + +<P> +The girl looked doubtfully at the diamond star that had been thrust +upon her. +</P> + +<P> +"If you don't care to wear anything I've worn," said the woman, "put it +by. Who knows? Some day you may be glad to have it. If it does come +from a worthless creature, it's fit to sell. I've heard of rich women +whose husbands ruined them, and who had to pawn their jewels.... How +do we know what will happen to you and me?" +</P> + +<P> +Susan went down the irregular flight of stairs. The Duchess was +waiting in her room for a word. +</P> + +<P> +"Good morning, my child," she said. "Your husband has very properly +come to fetch you. I should advise you to let him off lightly about +last night." +</P> + +<P> +The maid had gone out of the room. +</P> + +<P> +"About——?" faltered Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"Philandering with Julia. I believe in severity, of course," said the +Duchess bluntly, "but as a matter of fact Kitty and I have been at him +like early birds. Told him what we thought of him, and so forth. +Don't look so sorry. It's done him good, and you can descend upon him +like a forgiving saint." +</P> + +<P> +"I have nothing to forgive him," the girl protested. "Oh, I wish you +would not say that." +</P> + +<P> +The Duchess smiled benevolently at her stammering haste. She fancied +she understood. +</P> + +<P> +"I quite forgot," she said, "to ask after that idiot upstairs. +<I>There's</I> a woman who tried to enrage her husband into paying her more +attention by making herself conspicuous with another man. Bad policy, +my child. It makes the man think less of her, though it may alarm his +possessive instinct;—and, of course, if anybody stole your old coat +you'd feel inclined to knock him down:—but that wouldn't make you +believe it was as good as new. No, no, it's a fallacious notion. +However, we're talking of this person. I'd be sorry for her feelings +if I didn't think the shock of being stopped on the brink would bring +her to her senses. We are very good-natured among ourselves, but <I>she</I> +wouldn't find it easy to live it down. She isn't one of us." +</P> + +<P> +She smiled encouragingly at the girl, who was wrapped in her own +dressing-gown, a thick masculine garment that sat oddly on her slimness. +</P> + +<P> +"People think," she said, "that we hunting people are a lawless band. +They think they can come and do as they like in Melton. Just because +we have a sporting sense of loyalty to each other, and stick to our +friends when they need us. If you or Barnaby, for example, did +anything outrageous, we'd scold you a little and let it drop. But we +don't do it with an outsider.... He's brought your habit. Get into +your things, my dear." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Barnaby nodded to her cheerfully as she came into the breakfast room. +He was sitting on the window seat, and the rest of them were at +breakfast. Whether or no they had been attacking him, he did not look +cast down. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, how are you?" he said. "Good girl, you are coming hunting. I +brought everything, didn't I? They nearly left out your boots." +</P> + +<P> +"Look out and see who that is passing," said the Duchess. Someone was +cracking a whip below. He flung up the window, and she came round +herself. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter?" she said. "Is it a serenade, or do you want some +coffee?" +</P> + +<P> +A man with a long nose and a grizzling moustache had halted on his way +up the street. Two or three others had left him and were trotting on. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you heard the latest?" he said. "Richard Cummerbatch is drawing +all the covers like a raging maniac, roaring for his wife. Her party +went back in two cars from the ball last night, and each lot thought +she had gone in the other. It appears she's bolted." +</P> + +<P> +"Upon my word," said the Duchess, "if you are going to shout scandal at +the top of your voice I shall have to put up my shutters. She is just +over your head, Major. She had nowhere to go, since her party went off +without her; so I took her in." +</P> + +<P> +"Hey? What?" he said, looking up as quickly as if the lady were a +chimney-pot that might fall on him. "—Keep still, horse! You don't +say so?" +</P> + +<P> +His face was blank for an instant, but he soon recovered from his +disappointment. His well of gossip had not run dry. +</P> + +<P> +Cocking his head on one side like a mischievous old bird, he began on +another tack. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said, "if you're so rough on scandal, you'll have to keep +our friend Barnaby in order. What does his poor little American wife +say to his goings-on?" +</P> + +<P> +There was an awful pause in the room above. +</P> + +<P> +"Susan," said Barnaby, "he's as deaf as a post. Put your head out and +tell him as loud as you can what you think of me." +</P> + +<P> +Somebody began to laugh; the rest followed; and there was no more +awkwardness; his presence of mind had saved the situation. As he +leaned out of the window with his hand on Susan's shoulder the Major's +face was a study. Incontinently he fled. +</P> + +<P> +"There!" said Barnaby, "we have routed the enemy. Let's get on our +horses and pursue him. Hullo, who are these? A whole tribe without +one sound horse among them." +</P> + +<P> +The Duchess started back. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't tell me it is my friend Wickes," she said. "I promised him +weeks ago I'd beat up a little talent for his concert to-night, and I +have never done it. For heaven's sake, somebody, volunteer! Is there +a woman here who can sing in tune?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do you sing, Susan?" said Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, the man's affectation! Does she or does she not?" +</P> + +<P> +She did not know what impelled her. Perhaps his carelessness; his +unshaken attitude of amusement at a position that was—to him—so +absurd. +</P> + +<P> +"I could act something, perhaps," she said. The Duchess jumped at her +offer. +</P> + +<P> +"Booked!" she declared. "Stop that man clattering past, and tell him I +want him to sing <I>John Peel</I>. And, Cherry, you'll do for a comic song. +You're men, and it doesn't matter about your voices, so long as you +wear red coats." +</P> + +<P> +The young man she was ordering pushed away his cup with an injured air. +A murmur of—"Delighted, I'm sure. Delighted!" floated up from the +street. +</P> + +<P> +"You know I have only one song," he said, "and that is—<I>The Broken +Heart</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," she said unfeelingly, "you can make it comic." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you coming?" said Barnaby. He was waiting; some of them had +already started. The girl caught up her gloves and whip. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-bye, all of you," said the Duchess. "I beg you'll remember your +obligations. Barnaby, the thing is at eight. Call down to <I>John Peel</I> +and tell him.... Whatever you do, don't let my performer come to any +harm." +</P> + +<P> +"I will not quit her side for a moment," he promised, and the Duchess +shook her head at him as they ran downstairs. +</P> + +<P> +He was laughing as he put her up in the saddle. +</P> + +<P> +"It appears you don't know how to manage a husband," he said. "Don't +look so sorrowful. <I>I</I> don't mind them.—And the general public is +anxious to lend a hand." +</P> + +<P> +They rode soberly side by side, over the noisy cobbles, down to the low +white bridge thronged with pedestrians, threading their way amidst the +stream that was turning in at the gates farther on to the right. +</P> + +<P> +"We'll keep on, shall we?" said Barnaby. "Hounds will be moving +directly, and there'll be a fearful crowd getting out of the Park." +</P> + +<P> +So they held on between the lines of townsfolk and, turning upward, +fell in with a cluster of horsemen on the watch, loitering on the hill. +</P> + +<P> +"Awful bore, meeting in the town like this," said one of these +peevishly. His horse was eyeing a perambulator strangely, and there +was no space for antics. "Why do the Quorn do it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it pleases the multitude." +</P> + +<P> +There was a roar down below, and a scuffling noise as of hundreds +running. Above the bobbing heads passed a glimpse of scarlet, as a +whip issued from the green gates, clearing a way for hounds that were +hidden from view in the middle of the throng. Barnaby turned his horse +round. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on," he said. "We'll wait for them out of the town. I suppose +it's the customary pilgrimage? Gartree Hill." +</P> + +<P> +Behind them, louder and louder, drowning the tumult, came the +quickening tramp of horses. Their own animals grew excited. +</P> + +<P> +"Sit him tight!" said Barnaby. Her horse had nearly bucked into the +last lamp-post at the top of the hill. He would not wait peaceably at +the corner, so she took him a few yards farther on, straight over the +brow, where the way was not street, but road, looking down upon open +country. +</P> + +<P> +"Hullo!" said Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +The fields that spread underneath were bare and wind-swept; there was +no sign of life in them. But what was that brownish dab on the right? +Incredulously he watched it travelling up the furrow;—and, convinced, +let out a wild yell that made their own horses jump. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a fox!" he said. "It's a fox. Keep your eye on him, Susan, +while I fetch them up." +</P> + +<P> +He galloped back, waving his hat to hurry the startled host. The +huntsman came swiftly over the hill, and a glance assured him; he +touched his horn. In half a minute he and his hounds were scouring +over the fields, and the riders who had been at the front were jumping +out of the road. +</P> + +<P> +"They've found. They are running!" +</P> + +<P> +The cry was flung from lip to lip along the bewildered ranks that had +closed up in expectation of the long jog to cover. A minute more and +the crowd had burst like a scattered wave, far and wide. +</P> + +<P> +Down the slope; up a rise; in and out of a lane defended by straggling +blackthorn; dipping over the skyline; the pack was gone. Only the +quickest could live with them, only the first away had a chance of +keeping up in the run. They were just a handful as they landed over a +stake-and-bound into a rolling pasture, a great rough waste where the +ridges rose up like billows, crosswise, submerging the horses that were +shortening in their stride. +</P> + +<P> +"Good for the liver!" groaned Kilgour, as he rocked up and down. "But +what a sell for the crafty ones waiting on Gartree Hill!" +</P> + +<P> +"They'll cut in with us at Great Dalby," said Barnaby, flinging a +glance that side. The pack hung to the left, still flying. +</P> + +<P> +"Not much!" said Kilgour. "D'you suppose the fox is stopping with +Lydia Measures for a bottle of ginger beer?—What did I tell you? +There they go, wide of the village, over the Kirby lane——" +</P> + +<P> +He broke off his ejaculations, pointing triumphantly with his whip, +pushing on. A man of his build could not afford to lag behind, unlike +those light-weights who could lie by and then come like a whirlwind and +make it up. He must keep plodding on. But he took no shame to diverge +suddenly to a gate. Let the young 'uns surmount that rasper. +</P> + +<P> +On the high ground above a breathless horde struck in. Rumour, or the +wind, or some saving instinct had warned them; they had come at a +breakneck pace from their shivering watch elsewhere. +</P> + +<P> +Susan, riding her hardest, with her chin up and rapture on her face, +laughed as she heard the frantic thudding of that pursuit. +</P> + +<P> +"They've missed a bit," cried Barnaby at her shoulder. Her horse was +faster than his, but was tiring. She was glad to steady him as the +pack ran into a strip of trees. +</P> + +<P> +"What a scent!" said Barnaby. "Hark at them! They're sticking to +him;—they're driving him up the Pastures!" +</P> + +<P> +He swung round in his saddle, still keeping on. The rearguard, no +longer in desperation, were trooping contentedly down the road. +</P> + +<P> +"They'll get left," he said. "They reckon on losing him. Silly asses, +they're lighting their cigarettes!" +</P> + +<P> +Slower, but steadily, hounds were running up the wood. Their cry +increased in volume, vociferous, echoing in the trees. It sounded a +hundred times louder than in the open. And this time there was no +changing foxes; they drove him too hard. Out he went at the top, and +had no time to twist and turn in again; they were on his heels. Beyond +was a steep drop into a village, and then a long struggle, and another +drop to a ford. As the last of them were splashing through the water, +the first of them were swinging out of their saddles and turning their +horses' heads to the wind. They had run to Baggrave, and killed their +fox in the Park. +</P> + +<P> +"Three cheers for Barnaby and his outlier," said Kilgour. "That was no +poultry-snatcher, but a real beetle-fed warrior. What the dickens +shall we do next?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, get up in a tree, somebody, like Sister Anne; and rake the horizon +for second horses!" +</P> + +<P> +Susan knew that voice. It was Rackham. +</P> + +<P> +"Get up yourself," said Kilgour. "Your history isn't sound. <I>I</I> don't +trust my weight on anything but a watch-tower." +</P> + +<P> +Susan had turned away her face; she did not want to have to acknowledge +Rackham, although he had no shame in approaching her. Nervously she +plunged into a rapid argument with Kilgour, whose broad and comfortable +presence was a kind of buckler. But through it all she was conscious +of him, she heard his voice. He and Barnaby were arranging something +about a horse. She did not catch the drift of it, but Rackham turned +to her pointedly and asked her opinion. +</P> + +<P> +"I wasn't listening," she said. His glance was penetrating; she could +not escape it, and recollection burnt in her cheek. She heard Barnaby +whistle suddenly to himself. +</P> + +<P> +Hounds were moving at last, not hurrying, but drifting across the park, +searching as they went; and second horsemen were springing up out of +nowhere. Those who were lucky were changing horses. Already it was +far on in the afternoon. +</P> + +<P> +"That's the worst of beginning so late," said Kilgour. "The day's gone +before you know it. And here we've been dawdling, munching.... Now +we'll just get away with the twilight after dodging backwards and +forwards for an hour or two between the Prince of Wales's and Barkby +Holt." +</P> + +<P> +"Shut up, ill prophet!" said Barnaby, as they gathered close in to the +cover-side. Already there was a whimper. +</P> + +<P> +But it was late before the prophesied shilly-shallying came to its +appointed end, and those who had resisted the false alarms, sticking +patiently on guard at a windy corner, saw a fox break at last. A +misleading holloa had drawn off the field; they were massing on the +other side, out of sight, out of hearing in the rising wind that +carried away with it the warning note of the horn. And hounds were +slipping out like lightning. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on!" said Barnaby. This time there was no mistake. +</P> + +<P> +It didn't matter that there was a rival shout behind the dense thicket. +Let those who liked it exclaim that the pack was divided, and miss a +run to hang skirmishing for ever and ever about the Holt.... They had +a fox away, and at least half the hounds were on him as he dipped the +rise and went spinning into the infinite. Just a handful of riders +they were, but high-hearted, as they turned their faces towards the dim +red line of the sinking sun. +</P> + +<P> +Miles and miles they seemed to go swinging on. Behind a grey church, +round a silent village, and under a rustling wood. The wind was fresh +with the breath of twilight; its withering blast died down with that +last stinging gust of rain. And hounds were still running as swift as +shadows, flickering far and fast. +</P> + +<P> +One by one the rest of them had fallen back; had steadied their +faltering horses and listened, beaten. Susan could hardly see the +fences as they came up, darker and darker against the sky. But her +horse rushed at them gallantly, and she had Barnaby to follow. Hounds +were invisible now, but near; their cry was fierce behind that clump of +trees, impenetrable but for one glimmering gap of light. +</P> + +<P> +"They're running him still!" called Barnaby, plunging in. +</P> + +<P> +His voice was all she wanted. She could not ask more of Heaven than +this one gallop; and all her life she would remember that she had +ridden it out with him.... +</P> + +<P> +They had to ride warily through the trees, feeling their way, trusting +in their horses. Here the path was deep and boggy, there water +trickled, and the boughs hung low, swishing against them as they went +by. Birds whirred restlessly in the creaking branches, and an owl flew +shrieking in front of them. When they emerged from that eerie passage +everything had grown weird and strange in the cheating dusk. +</P> + +<P> +"That's the horn," said Barnaby. "He's calling them off. Doesn't it +sound unearthly?—There they are. Listen.... Listen.... They're +running him in the dark!" +</P> + +<P> +Far away on the hillside a light twinkled suddenly, turning the +twilight land into darkness as the first star makes it night in the sky. +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby laughed. "That was a hunt!" he said. "Hark! he's stopped +them. We'll have to find our way out of this. Why, we can't see each +other's faces.... Let's keep on a bit up this hedge-side, and perhaps +we'll get into a bridle-road." +</P> + +<P> +He went first, striking into a kind of track. +</P> + +<P> +"There should be a gate in the corner," he said. "Better let your +horse get his head down and smell out the rabbit-holes. We're like the +babes in the wood, aren't we? Mind that grip!—Where are you?" +</P> + +<P> +The gate was there. They passed through it, and on the other side was +a sign-post. Barnaby struck a match, standing up in his stirrups to +peer at the moss-stained board. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid," he said, "we'll be late for that concert. Unless we can +strike Kilgour's habitation and get him to send us on. Shall we try +for it? We're—oh, never mind where we are; it's the end of the world, +anyhow. Are you tired to death?" +</P> + +<P> +He turned round with the match in his fingers, and looked at her, but +it had burnt down; he dropped it, and reaching out, caught her hand, +swinging it in his as their horses stumbled on side by side. +</P> + +<P> +"What a cold little hand!" he said, but his grip was warming it through +the leather.... +</P> + +<P> +The end of the world.... He had used the word so lightly, but it +called her back to reason. Another day was over. And perhaps +to-morrow the world might end. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IX +</H3> + +<P> +The Duchess and her friend Wickes were a trifle anxious, but their +faces cleared as the late ones arrived. Two or three rows behind them +the village schoolmaster dropped like a shot rabbit into his seat. +</P> + +<P> +"A minute later and we'd have been lost," whispered the Duchess. "It's +always a battle to keep him off the platform. Once he is wound up no +power on earth can stop him. Twice already he has offered his +recitation, proposing to fill the breach." +</P> + +<P> +"Poor devil, what a shame!" said Barnaby. "Why not let him?" +</P> + +<P> +"We did let him—once," said Wickes, and a reminiscent shudder passed +down the row. He addressed himself eagerly to Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"It's awfully good of you, Mrs. Hill," he said, the worried creases in +his long face relaxing. "Every time I get up a village concert I swear +it will be the last, but I go on doing it year by year. You have no +idea what the tribulations are——" +</P> + +<P> +"That is meant for me," said the Duchess, lowering her voice to a +guilty whisper. "—I ask you, how could I help it? You know what a +commotion there was this morning, getting off to the meet.—I told +somebody to call down from my window to Rufus Brown that he was to +attend this concert and sing <I>John Peel</I>.—I could tell him a mile off +by his old grey horse; you know how the creature bobs his head up and +down:——" +</P> + +<P> +"<I>I</I> did your bidding," said Barnaby. "You only said 'Stop him!' and I +don't know who on earth it was, but it certainly wasn't Rufus." +</P> + +<P> +"How was I to know," groaned the Duchess, "that he had sold the grey?" +</P> + +<P> +"But the beggar was quite delighted," protested Barnaby, who saw +nothing worse than a joke in this substitution of a probably voiceless +stranger. "He undertook to do it." +</P> + +<P> +The Duchess pointed a solemn finger. +</P> + +<P> +"Barnaby," she said, "you have been out of the world too long. You +don't know the whole horror of the position. There he sits!" +</P> + +<P> +"Flushed with victory," murmured someone else, "hoarse with +bawling:——" +</P> + +<P> +"It was an awful moment," said the Duchess, "when he came and thanked +me for the compliment I had paid him. I've never spoken to the wretch +in my life." +</P> + +<P> +"He feels you have adopted him now," said the Job's comforter at her +elbow. "Barnaby, you don't know him. He's the most impossible bounder +who was ever kicked out of society, and we have all been turning him +the cold shoulder for the last two seasons. We were beginning to hope +we had finally choked him off." +</P> + +<P> +"Poor Wickes is nearly beside himself," said the Duchess. "He will +never get over it. But imagine my feelings when I discovered what I +had done——" +</P> + +<P> +"The populace at the back didn't know what to make of it; they are used +to us rollicking in <I>John Peel</I>,—shouting out the chorus. But we were +all too utterly petrified to emit a whoop——" +</P> + +<P> +"Is there anything you would like in the way of properties, Mrs. Hill?" +said Wickes, in a severe, sad voice. Susan looked down, suddenly +nervous, her hands clenched, her face a little pale. +</P> + +<P> +"What is your wife going to do?" Kilgour was asking, and Barnaby was +answering carelessly that he didn't know. +</P> + +<P> +"She is rather a dab at acting," he said, and now he was looking +humorously at her. But for once she failed to smile back her +recognition of the eternal joke between them.... Yes, she was good at +acting.... +</P> + +<P> +"Turn the lights down," she said, and Mr. Wickes flew obediently to the +nearest lamp. Anything to obliterate past misfortunes!—"And there is +a woman at the back with a baby. Ask her to lend it to me." +</P> + +<P> +She had meant to amuse them differently, but some impulse had made her +change her mind. She flung a dark shawl, borrowed, over her satin +frock. Mr. Wickes came back to her, carrying the child gingerly; its +mother had relinquished it with pride, only protesting against his +taking it up by the back of its neck like a puppy, which Wickes, +distracted by his responsibilities, had seemed inclined to do. +</P> + +<P> +They were all looking at her with interest, mildly stirred to expect +something unusual, as the anxious Wickes helped her on to the platform +and lowered another lamp. But as she stood above them their curious +faces faded, and the touch of the little body, so light in her arm, +took her out of herself. She was once more playing, playing for life, +in the Tragedy Company; making the people sob at the tragic end of the +drama. +</P> + +<P> +"—Don't waken the child...." +</P> + +<P> +The first note of her voice vibrated like the plaintive string of a +harp. The listeners were startled. +</P> + +<P> +She was the woman whose husband was faithless and, in the horrible +madness that gripped him, was coming to take her life. She was shut +in, hidden in a poor shelter, miles away from human help; and she was +listening for his step in terror, loving him so bitterly still that she +would have been glad to die, but clinging desperately to life for the +sake of his child. And she rocked the baby on her arm, half +distracted; singing to it, ceasing her chant to listen ... and +imagining his approach. But all the while, in her despair, she stifled +the scream that was on her lips;—she must not waken the child. +</P> + +<P> +Farther and farther she retreated, staring with frightened eyes at the +door, but still hushing the baby at her breast; and then, all at once, +she stopped, and bent her face to its cheek. A pause hung, +significant; and then came her cry, dreadful, heart-breaking. The baby +was still. He might come; he might kill her ... he could not waken the +child.... +</P> + +<P> +"Good heavens, how real!" said Mr. Wickes. +</P> + +<P> +Susan, breathing a little quicker, looked down on the dim-lit audience. +All these women could ride, all these women could dance.... She wanted +Barnaby to think of her sometimes, later. Would he remember her by the +one thing they could not do? by that wild scrap of melodrama? +</P> + +<P> +The room was shaking with an almost hysterical applause. Behind there +was an enthusiastic stamping. And the only woman who was not crying +was the baby's mother, who was too flattered, and one other who looked +on with disdainful eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you like it?" asked the actress wistfully. It was Barnaby himself +who had come forward to help her down. She could not hear what he +said; it was under his breath, and it was drowned in the clapping. +</P> + +<P> +The lights had gone up again; she could recognize the people who were +surrounding her, as she stepped down amongst them. Near the wall, not +very far from the Duchess, who was frankly borrowing a large, masculine +handkerchief, were sitting a thin, fair woman, and a big, stupid, +slow-witted man. They both had an odd look of having just found each +other. The Duchess wagged her head at them. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she whispered, "there they are. They have made it up.... +Wickes, don't you think it would be a noble deed to invite the +schoolmaster to play God Save the King? It will get his name into the +local paper." +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly," said Wickes. He took a long breath, conceiving his +troubles over, remaining, however, with his eyes fixed on Susan in a +kind of awed curiosity. Finally he spoke out the problem in his mind. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mind telling me," he said, apologetically, "what spell you +used—how you contrived to keep the infant quiet?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, she's a witch!" said Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, she's a witch," said the Duchess kindly, "but I know the secret. +It had a comforter in its mouth." +</P> + +<P> +They were all moving now, bustling out of their chairs, and blocking up +the gangway with their "good nights." The proletariat was waiting for +them to depart before shuffling out of the shilling benches. And there +was Julia, paler than usual, but as lovely, smiling at Barnaby, giving +him a long, strange look that was full of pity and understanding.... +</P> + +<P> +"You're done up," said Barnaby. "Come along. I shouldn't have let you +be dragged into this performance on the top of a hard day's hunting." +</P> + +<P> +She kept her lip steady, wishing she had not seen that interchange of +glances; shrinking absurdly from the implication that was conveyed by +Kilgour's officious interposition of his broad person. Did he think he +could arrest the march of events by planting himself like a kind ox +between Barnaby and Julia? Did he think they would not find means—? +Still she kept her lip steady, letting Barnaby hurry her down the room; +reminding herself that she had no right to feel insulted, or even a +little sad. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +When they reached home she was going straight upstairs, as was her +custom, but Barnaby stopped her. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't go up yet," he said. "You ate no dinner. I told them we'd have +something when we came in." +</P> + +<P> +She let him draw a chair for her beside that red fire in the hall that +always tempted the weary to go no farther; and bring things that she +did not want out of the dining-room. +</P> + +<P> +"I've sent away the servants," he said. "I've got out of the way of +them flitting round me. You'd rather sit here, wouldn't you, and get +warm and let me forage?" +</P> + +<P> +For a little while they were gay, and then he cleared away plates and +glasses, and a silence fell between them. He settled down in another +of the great chairs and lit a cigarette. A smile curved in the corners +of his mouth and vanished; he was thinking hard. Susan watched him, +shading her eyes with her hand that he might not raise his head +suddenly and read their wistfulness. She was not often alone with him +in the house. +</P> + +<P> +What was he thinking? His face was no longer careless; the kind blue +eyes were fixed earnestly on the fire. She remembered the strangeness +of Julia's look and her heart ached, guessing. Something must have +happened between them; he must have let her see unmistakably that he +loved her still. For there had been no restlessness in Julia's air, no +bravado,—it had been the smile of a woman who was sure. And he had +himself set a barrier between them. +</P> + +<P> +She felt a wild longing to comfort him, to take his head on her arm and +whisper that nothing was too hard for a man,—nothing worth that +steadfast, unhappy gaze. +</P> + +<P> +He moved, and the start it gave her set her pulses beating fast. If he +had not stirred, might not the impulse have been too much for her? +might she not have found herself kneeling by him, comforting him in the +madness of her heart? She heard her own voice, imploring, sharp as if +in some stress of mortal fright— +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, let me go! Oh, will you not let me go?" +</P> + +<P> +He had looked up quickly. The sobbing wildness of her cry broke in on +his absent mood. +</P> + +<P> +"You are tired of the farce?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +She came back to herself. What was the matter with her? +"I—cannot—bear it," she said slowly. +</P> + +<P> +And for a minute there was silence again between them. She heard the +fire crackling, a far-away clock ticking on the stairs; ... she thought +she could hear the silence itself. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't know it was hurting you," he said. +</P> + +<P> +He was sorry for her; he must not be sorry. She tried to laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't think of me," she said. "It—it didn't matter. After all, I'm +an actress. I am one of these strange people that can pretend. Let me +go back to the other kind of acting, where nobody will think me real; +where there will be crowds applauding, and not just one person to be +amused and say—'She carries it off well, but she'll make a slip,—she +will stumble!' ... Oh, it couldn't hurt me. Don't you know we can only +hurt ourselves?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think I'll let you go back to that life?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +His voice recalled the raging warmth of pity with which he had once +referred to his lawyer's tale of her plight. Apparently the situation +still roused in him a mistaken feeling that she was in his charge. She +flushed, struggling with a betraying weakness. +</P> + +<P> +"A hard life," she said, "but not unbearable.... My public will not be +cheated. They will not shame me with too much kindness——" +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby was not listening. +</P> + +<P> +"Who was the man,—that fellow last night?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +Why did he speak of that? Did he dare to imagine that she was building +on another man's promises? that she was scheming, calculating—? +</P> + +<P> +"No,—" she cried bitterly. "No,—not that!" +</P> + +<P> +A great while after, it seemed to her, he spoke again. His voice was +quiet. +</P> + +<P> +"I think you are right," he said. "It's time to make an end of this. +It's too dangerous." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said faintly. That at least was true.... +</P> + +<P> +He went on, rather quickly. She was not looking at him. She could not. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen. To-morrow you'll have a wire from London. I'll see to it. +I'm afraid we can't make it a cable; there isn't time. It will have to +be from my lawyers, saying you are wanted in America on important +business. My mother doesn't understand business. Anyhow, you'll be +excited, and you needn't know what it means; so you can't explain." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said, in the same low voice. "To-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +"We'll have to see about boats and things when we get up to town. And, +of course, we'll have to make up a story. But once you're out of this +country——" +</P> + +<P> +Yes, once she was out of this country it would all be simple. She had +only to disappear. +</P> + +<P> +"What will you say of me?" she asked, with a sad quaintness. "Will you +tell them that I am dead?" +</P> + +<P> +He moved suddenly, checking himself. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, God knows!" he said. "It will take a lot of planning. You've +forgotten the—other lady." +</P> + +<P> +Yes, that was his difficulty. Although she would be gone there would +still be a bar between him and Julia. That was the tragedy. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll be out when the wire comes, probably," he said. It seemed to +amuse him to settle the details; he seemed to be flinging his +seriousness aside. "Rackham is coming over to try a horse. For form's +sake you'll have to send for me immediately. I'll be somewhere down in +the schooling pastures." +</P> + +<P> +The nearness of exile took away her breath. But the impossible +situation could only have ended so. That had been their bargain. At +least she had not failed him, she had done all that he asked of her, +drinking the bitter cup of her own dishonesty to the dregs. A rush of +memory carried her back to that first night of his return, so distant, +and yet such a little while ago. She held out her hand to him, humbly, +uncertainly— +</P> + +<P> +"Good night," she said. "You—you have been good to me." +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby took her hands in his; clasped them hard. It was surely not +his voice that was so unsteady. +</P> + +<P> +"It's the last time, is it?" he said. "Let's play it out gallantly. +Let's pretend. Susan,—Susan—is that how you say good night to your +husband?" +</P> + +<P> +Her heart beat fast; her head was dizzy. He was looking down in her +eyes, drawing her hands to his breast. +</P> + +<P> +No, not Barnaby:—not the one man she trusted!... +</P> + +<P> +"Good night,—Sir," she whispered. +</P> + +<P> +And he remembered; he let her go and stood back as she passed him on +her way to the stairs. +</P> + +<P> +"Good night," he repeated, in that queer, unsteady voice. "I beg your +pardon,—Madam." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER X +</H3> + +<P> +To-morrow had come. +</P> + +<P> +It was the same kind of morning as other mornings; there was no lurid +conflagration lighting up the sky. Outside it was dull and quiet, and +even the wind was still. Susan paused at the staircase window, gazing +a little while. +</P> + +<P> +In the hall beneath she heard Barnaby talking to the dogs. And his +voice shook her. The stunned sense of finality that was with her gave +way to a sharp and sudden pain. +</P> + +<P> +She could not bear to go down to him. Turning, she fled back. +</P> + +<P> +"Is that you, Susan?" called Lady Henrietta. She was sitting up at her +breakfast, and the door of her room was ajar. "Where is Barnaby riding +out so early? I heard his boots creaking as he went by." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," the girl said, truly. "I haven't seen him." +</P> + +<P> +"Then don't loiter like a draught in the door," said Lady Henrietta +impatiently. "Come in and have your tea up here and help me to read my +letters." +</P> + +<P> +She did as she was bidden. The sharp kindliness of Barnaby's mother +was sweet to her; and it was the last time she would sit with her, the +last time she would listen with a smile that was not far from tears to +her caustic prattle. Whatever happened to her, however they managed +her disappearance, she and Lady Henrietta would never meet again. +Would she think of her sometimes,—kindly?—She was not to know.... +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter now?" said Lady Henrietta suddenly. "You look pale." +</P> + +<P> +Hurriedly the girl defended herself from the imputation. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course, it's Barnaby," said Lady Henrietta, undismayed. "I suppose +he has been behaving badly." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no! Oh no!" cried Susan. +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta waved her hands impatiently. How fragile she looked, +how pretty;—the pink in her cheekbones matching her painted silk +peignoir. The hardness that sometimes marred her expression had +softened to a pitying amusement, and she had a look of Barnaby when she +smiled like that. +</P> + +<P> +"You'd deny it with your last gasp," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Susan was picking up and arranging the letters that were lying in +disorder. It was difficult to sustain that quizzical regard. But +Barnaby's mother had not finished with her. She was not to be +distracted. +</P> + +<P> +"You never tell me anything, either of you," she said. "What is a +mother-in-law for but to rule the tempest and shoot about in the +battle? It's too firmly fixed in your heads that I am a brittle thing, +and whatever is raging round me I am not to be excited. And it's +absurd. I don't mind having a heart,—in reason. It's amusing; a kind +of trick up my sleeve. But I won't have it robbing me of my rightful +flustrations.—I am as strong as a horse, if you two would realize it. +And you and Barnaby are such a funny couple." +</P> + +<P> +She scanned the girl's face a minute. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm attached to you, you little wretch," she said. "But I don't +believe you care a straw for him." +</P> + +<P> +But as she spoke her merciless eyes had pierced the girl's mask of +light-heartedness. On this last morning Susan was not mistress of +herself. +</P> + +<P> +"You <I>are</I> fond of him!" she said. "Dreadfully, ridiculously fond of +him like any old-fashioned girl...." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, hush!" cried Susan. Anything to stop that unmerciful +proclamation. She flung herself on her knees, and her terrified +protest was stifled in Lady Henrietta's arms. +</P> + +<P> +"How silly we are!" said she, but she held the girl tightly. "I'm to +bridle my tongue, am I? You are afraid I shall tell him? Oh, you poor +little girl, you baby, is it as bad as that?" +</P> + +<P> +She pushed her away, as if ashamed of her own emotion, and a fierceness +came into her voice, that had been entirely kind. +</P> + +<P> +"If you allow that woman to ruin your lives—!" she said. "Oh, I'm not +blind, I'm not altogether stupid—! If you let her take him from +us—I'll never forgive you, Susan." +</P> + +<P> +Having launched her bolt, all unconscious of its stabbing irony, she +recovered her bantering equanimity, and looked whimsically at her +listener. +</P> + +<P> +"Why are you gazing at me," she said, "as if I were about to vanish? +I'm not going to die of it. I am going to take the field." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby was not in the house when the girl went at last downstairs. +She wandered in and out of the library, trying to smother her +expectation, listening without ceasing for the telegram that was to +come and make an end. He did not appear at luncheon, and she sat +alone, pretending to eat, but starting at every sound. Afterwards, to +quiet her restlessness, she went round to the stables to say good-bye +to the horses. +</P> + +<P> +The pigeons flew down to her as she walked into the wide flagged yard. +She went to the corn bin and scattered a handful as they circled round +her and settled at her feet. The men must be still at dinner. There +was no stud groom to look reproachful as she tipped a little oats in a +sieve to give secretly to the horse that had been her own in this +country of make-believe. She felt like a thief as she lifted the +latch. It seemed wrong to be there by herself, without Barnaby. She +had always gone round with him. +</P> + +<P> +The horse lifted his beautiful head, and they stared at each other. +She patted his quarter with her flat hand, and he went over and let her +empty her parting gift in his manger. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-bye," she said. "Good-bye, old boy!" +</P> + +<P> +Tears choked her. She stumbled out through the straw and shut the door +on him. +</P> + +<P> +All down that side of the yard there was a row of boxes. The bay came +first, and then the chestnut that Barnaby had ridden yesterday +afternoon. He pulled a little with Barnaby; ... he had never pulled +with her. And there was the hotter chestnut that she had called +Mustard, and the brown horse that had been mishandled and had a trick +of striking out when a stranger came up to him in the stall. She had +gone with Barnaby to look at him when he first arrived from the +dealers',—and Barnaby had caught her back just in time. The horse +looked at her gravely, sadly, with no evil flicker in his eye. Life +had dealt hardly with him as with her, and he seemed, best of them all, +to understand. But Barnaby had forbidden her to go near him.... +Mechanically she went on to Black Rose's box, but her place was empty. +</P> + +<P> +There was a grey next door, an old horse that had carried her many +times. He was to be fired in the spring, sold perhaps. She leant her +head, shuddering, against him; and he licked at her hand like a dog.... +What was the end of them, all these brave, patient, willing creatures? +A few seasons' eager service, and then, step by step, as the tired +muscles failed the undying spirit—knocking from hand to hand, harder +fare, worse misusage,—the dreadful descent into hell. +</P> + +<P> +Once, on their way back from hunting, they had come suddenly on a +strange procession, a gaunt herd of worn-out shadows making their last +journey, staggering humbly along the wayside. It was a haunting +tragedy. Staring ribs, hollow eyes dim with misery,—and the cursing +driver thrashing one that had fallen, and lay in a quivering heap on +the grass. She had asked what this horror was.... Just a shipload of +useless horses travelling in the dusk their unspeakable pilgrimage to +the sea. +</P> + +<P> +And she had turned on the men riding at her side. Shame on them, that +were English, that called themselves a sporting nation.... What a lie +that was! she had cried.... +</P> + +<P> +And Barnaby had said—"She's right there!" and the other men had not +laughed.... +</P> + +<P> +There were voices in the saddle-room. One of the grooms crossed the +yard whistling. She was still leaning her head against the old horse, +and she waited. She did not want the men to stare at her and wonder; +she did not want them to find her there. +</P> + +<P> +"The master took out Black Rose, didn't he?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. He's gone down the fields with his Lordship." +</P> + +<P> +"Will he be riding her in the Hunt steeplechases?" +</P> + +<P> +That was a stranger's voice, not one of Barnaby's servants. +</P> + +<P> +"Can't say."—The stud groom was cautious. +</P> + +<P> +"That's an ugly brute of his Lordship's. Why didn't he ride him here?" +said another voice, joining in. +</P> + +<P> +"He had to go somewhere in the motor, and so I'd orders to bring the +horse over. It wasn't a job I envied," said Rackham's groom. +</P> + +<P> +"If ever a horse was a devil, that one is," said the stud groom, +laconically. +</P> + +<P> +"Wants a devil to back him," muttered Rackham's man. "I never ride out +of our yard without expecting he'll down me. Got a history, hasn't he?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who told you that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Stevens told me you'd passed a remark about him." +</P> + +<P> +The stud groom received the insinuating suggestion with a dignity that +was proof against pumping for the space of a minute. He chewed on a +straw discreetly. Then his own knowledge became too much for him. +</P> + +<P> +"If I told you his history, Arthur Jones," he said slowly, "you'd never +lay your legs across him no more." +</P> + +<P> +"Then for God's sake tell it," said Arthur Jones. +</P> + +<P> +The stud groom laughed grimly. He was a man of saturnine humour, and +liked impressing his underlings. +</P> + +<P> +"His Lordship knows," he said. "If any man could cow a horse, he can. +Weight tells. Weight and devilry. But any other gentleman buying +Prince John I'd call it suicide. If I didn't,—according to +circumstances, mind you"—he lowered his voice, not much, but +enough—"call it murder." +</P> + +<P> +Would the men never stop gossiping and disperse? She would have to +face their curious looks at last. +</P> + +<P> +"I was up Yorkshire way when his Lordship bought him," said the stud +groom deliberately. "Four of us was leaning over the bars at that +auction. Two of us had a mourning band on the sleeve of our coats, and +the third chap had unpicked the crape off his a month ago. When they +put Prince John in the ring there came a frost on the bidding. They +said he'd ought to 'a been shot out of the road, and never put up for +sale. His name wasn't Prince John then. He'd been run in two 'chases, +owners up;—and he'd killed them both." +</P> + +<P> +The men stood with their mouths open, digesting the horrid tale. And a +stable lad ran into the yard from his vantage point on a hillock. +</P> + +<P> +"They're down at the jumps," he said, "—and they're changing horses." +</P> + +<P> +It was then that the girl came out, passing swift as an apparition. +The men fell back, touching their caps. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll lay she heard you," said Rackham's man. +</P> + +<P> +The stud groom looked after her curiously and, crossing over to the +door of the grey's box, that she had left unfastened, closed it without +a word. +</P> + +<P> +She did not know why she was hurrying to the house. What +half-conscious panic had seized her as her inattentive mind took its +wandering impression of the grooms' idle gossip? What words had +reached her, lodging in her brain to inspire that wild sense of +impending trouble? It was no good searching for Barnaby in the house. +He was down at the jumps,—changing horses. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a wire for you," said Lady Henrietta. +</P> + +<P> +It had come. At first she looked at it stupidly, as if it, the signal, +were some trivial interruption. She heard herself explaining, like an +unthinking scholar repeating a half-forgotten lesson. "I must go away. +I—I have to go away." +</P> + +<P> +"Bad news?" asked Lady Henrietta quickly. Susan crumpled the telegram +in her hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it's bad news," she said. "It is from the lawyers." +</P> + +<P> +Vaguely she recollected what she was to say. Something about going up +to London at once, and perhaps on to America. +</P> + +<P> +"Let me see it," said Lady Henrietta. "Yes, it sounds urgent. We'd +better send somebody to fetch Barnaby. He will have to take you. You +must catch the afternoon train." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I must catch the afternoon train," repeated Susan. That was +decided. Had not Barnaby mapped it out? She wondered dully how he had +managed to convey private instructions for that impeccable message; but +all the while she was thinking, thinking,—and suddenly she was +conquered by her wild, unreasoning fear for him. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll go and find him," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta demurred, curious, desiring to cross-examine; but the +girl's face smote her, and she forbore to hold her back. +</P> + +<P> +It was not far down the fields, and she went like a driven leaf, +possessed by a fear that would not be stilled by reason. She had gone +down there sometimes to watch them schooling hunters, and she had +ridden the jumps herself, that day when Barnaby showed her how they +trained steeplechasers, with real wide hedges and a movable leaping +bar. He had tried to prevent her risking the double, bristling with +difficulty, and she had defied him, larking over it, and then galloping +back to him to say she was sorry. +</P> + +<P> +She counted the fences mechanically as they came up one by one, visible +against the winter sky; lines of artificial ramparts, defended by a +guard rail, made up with furze;—and the lapping rim of that actual +water jump. The strange thing was that as she came nearer and nearer, +instead of diminishing, her premonition grew. She talked to herself to +keep down her panic. +</P> + +<P> +Why were so few men killed steeplechasing? Because it was dangerous, +Barnaby had said. It was the rabbit holes and the mole-hills and the +grips that broke your neck unawares.... That was the gate he had shut +between them, he sitting on his horse on the far side laughing, while +she practised hooking the latch and pushing it back with the handle of +her whip. He had shown her first the nail studded in the horn of the +handle to keep it from slipping;—and then he had clapped the gate +shut, declaring that till she opened it fairly, without his help, she +should never pass. And she had ridden through triumphantly at last. +It was the only thing he had had to teach her. How quaint they were, +these heavy wooden latches.... She let the gate swing and ran. +</P> + +<P> +Rackham was on Black Rose, and Barnaby on a chestnut. They were +walking their horses when she caught sight of them, and Barnaby was +letting his look over a fence, flicking his whip at the ridge of furze +with its withering yellow blossom. They were not talking loud, but she +thought his voice sounded angry. The chestnut was restive. +</P> + +<P> +"Keep still, you brute!" he said. +</P> + +<P> +Something was wrong between the two men. Some old antagonism had +flared up, rousing them to a hot discussion. The chestnut lifted his +forefeet off the ground, and Barnaby shook his bridle carelessly, +warning him again to be quiet. Then all at once up he went, seizing +the unguarded moment.... +</P> + +<P> +Crash! +</P> + +<P> +The girl saw him rise, saw him stagger, falling back on his rider; and +she ran on with sobbing breath. +</P> + +<P> +The chestnut rolled over sideways and struggled on to his legs. A +little way off the mare was plunging, upset by what was happening; she +could hardly be controlled. Susan had reached Barnaby, she had thrown +herself down beside him to lift his head from the rough grass where he +lay so still. Rackham had dismounted; he was coming to help;—but she +was out of her mind with terror. She caught up Barnaby's whip, +springing to her feet, lashing at him as if he were a wild beast that +she must keep at bay. Then she dropped on her knees again, and laid +her cheek on Barnaby's heart, and the turf was heaving up round them +both. +</P> + +<P> +Far off, indistinct, she heard troubled whispers, and one quite close. +</P> + +<P> +"He's breathing still, my lady." (That was the stud groom, who had +formerly served a countess. He always addressed her so.) She looked +up at him. +</P> + +<P> +"He's living yet, my lady," the man repeated in an awed undertone. +"Best not try to move him. They've sent a car for the doctor. Best +let him lie till they come...." +</P> + +<P> +He knelt on the other side, and one of the men stood over him in his +shirt-sleeves, folding up his coat. With significant carefulness they +raised Barnaby's head a little and slipped it under. And then they all +waited and watched for a hundred years.... +</P> + +<P> +When the doctor came he was still unconscious. Something was broken, +and there was bad concussion. It was possible he might be injured +internally, strained, crushed,—a cursory examination could not make +sure. They stripped a hurdle of its furze, and he was lifted and laid +upon it; the men hoisted it on their shoulders and tramped with a +dreadful slowness through the fields to the house. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll ride on and break it to his mother," said Rackham, averting his +eyes from Susan as he spoke to her. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said dully. She had forgotten him. +</P> + +<P> +And as it often is, the one who was thought least fitted to support a +shock took it coolly. A lengthy experience of hunting accidents helped +her to seize, comforted, on Rackham's report of concussion, and to +believe in his blunt assurance that the whole thing was nothing worse +than an ordinary spill. A more diplomatic messenger might have +terrified her with his gentleness, but she suspected no concealment in +a man who, without beating about the bush, looked her right in the face +and lied. She did not see the men carry their burden in, and when the +others came to her, relieving Rackham, she was comparatively calm. Her +active fancy was diverted by measures that she ascribed to a misplaced +anxiety for herself. +</P> + +<P> +"I am not going to collapse," she insisted. "It's too ridiculous +making this fuss about me and not letting me go to him. It's not the +first time the poor boy has been brought back to me knocked silly. You +needn't be so fidgety over me;—you had better look after Susan.... My +dear, my dear, I know what it is! And concussion is a thing the +doctors can't cut you to pieces for, thank Heaven. Give her a little +brandy!" +</P> + +<P> +Rackham's glance met the doctor's. The case was too serious to provoke +a smile. +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta had turned to Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," she said, with the air of one who wished to demonstrate to an +over-anxious circle that she had her wits about her—"that telegram—! +Of course you can't go now. We must wire up to town.—" +</P> + +<P> +The girl listened to her without at first comprehending. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh,—the telegram," she repeated. How pathetically absurd that futile +invention sounded now. +</P> + +<P> +"I must go to him," she said. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor nodded encouragement. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll bring a nurse back with me when I come again," he promised. +</P> + +<P> +Into the girl's pale cheek came a sudden colour. She lifted her head +and her eyes shone. She held out her hand, and all at once it was +steady. +</P> + +<P> +"No one else;—no one but me!" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +Oh, the farce was not played out; the curtain was not down. She was +still his wife to that audience; it was to her he belonged, to no +other.... Desperately she stood on her rights;—the poor, fictitious +rights she had purchased with all that pain. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>You</I> can't nurse him," the doctor was saying gently. "You'd break +down; you would make yourself ill. You don't know what you would be +undertaking." +</P> + +<P> +But Barnaby's mother was on her side. +</P> + +<P> +"Fiddlesticks!" said she. She had brightened unaccountably; in her +voice ran a queer little tremor of satisfaction. "Let her make herself +ill if she likes. Why shouldn't she? I've no patience with modern +vices, calling in hirelings—! A wife's place is with her husband, not +quaking outside his door." +</P> + +<P> +Susan was looking bravely in the doctor's doubtful face. +</P> + +<P> +"You can trust me," she said, on her pale lips a wistful flicker that +hardly was a smile.—"I too was a—hireling, once. I know how." +</P> + +<P> +She knew he must yield. What man would dare to stop her? What man +would dare to dispute her claim? Only Barnaby himself, who might one +day laugh at the tragic humour of her assumption. A kind of despairing +joy shook her soul, and was blotted in a passionate eagerness of +devotion. Barnaby was hurt, perhaps dying, ... and nothing could +conjure her from his side. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XI +</H3> + +<P> +The house had become very quiet. +</P> + +<P> +Under Barnaby's windows and right down the avenue the crunching granite +was spread with tan. The servants moved silently about their work, +even in the far kitchens whence not a sound could be heard. +</P> + +<P> +For a long time he was unconscious; for a long time he lay breathing +heavily, and they could not tell if he was in pain. Other doctors came +down from London, and Lady Henrietta had to be told what it was that +the girl was fighting with that pale and steady face. +</P> + +<P> +"It's love, sheer love, that keeps her going," said one witness to +another, watching her courage in the deeps of agony and uncertainty, +and, at last, in the breakers of hope. +</P> + +<P> +She was safe in giving herself without stint, because for a long while +he did not know her, and it did not matter to him who it was that was +soothing him with a passionate gentleness of which his jarred brain +would have no knowledge when it recovered its normal tone. She could +sit at his bedside hushing him, whispering that she loved him, she +loved him, and he must sleep. +</P> + +<P> +Sometimes he talked to her in unintelligible mutterings, sometimes his +rambling speeches, without beginning or end, were bitter to understand. +</P> + +<P> +"You mustn't mind what he says," the doctor warned her kindly. "It's +certain to be rubbish. Generally they go over and over some silly +thing they remember.—I had a patient once who got into fearful trouble +through winding off something about a murder he had read in a book." +</P> + +<P> +—That was after he had stood awhile listening gravely to Barnaby's +restless talk. +</P> + +<P> +—"I'll find a way out. Wait a bit, my darling.... We'll not have our +lives ruined by that mad marriage. I'll find a way out for us." +</P> + +<P> +It was not always the same. Sometimes in the night it would be—"I +tell you she's my wife. No, no, not the other. Awfully good joke, +what? Mustn't lose my head, though; mustn't lose my head." +</P> + +<P> +And Susan would lay her cheek against his in an agony lest he should +hurt himself with his excitement. +</P> + +<P> +"Sleep!" she would whisper, "oh, my dearest, lie still and sleep...." +</P> + +<P> +"But I love her. Don't you know that? I can't marry my girl. Because +I love her;—just because I love her—mustn't lose my head!" +</P> + +<P> +Once after she had quieted him, and he had lain a little while +motionless he called her. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you there?" he said. His voice was so sensible that she trembled. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said softly, and he gave a sigh of content. But soon he was +muttering again, and restless. +</P> + +<P> +"She wants me to sleep," he was repeating, "she wants me to sleep." +</P> + +<P> +No, he had not known who she was. She bent over him, smoothing his +forehead with a tender and anxious hand. Sometimes her touch was +magnetic. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said. "Hush, my dearest." +</P> + +<P> +"Kiss me," he murmured suddenly, "and I'll go to sleep." +</P> + +<P> +And since at all costs he must be coaxed to slumber, she kissed him for +the woman who was not there. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Slowly he turned the corner, slowly. +</P> + +<P> +And at last she found him watching her one morning as she came towards +him with a cup in her hand, across the great, wide room. She liked +this room; it was so vast and simple. Its battered furniture must have +been his when he was a boy. And there was no clutter of pictures and +photographs; only a few ancient oil-paintings of hounds and horses. +Above his bed a square patch in the wall-paper that was unfaded, +betrayed where a woman's portrait had hung once and had been taken down. +</P> + +<P> +"Hullo!" he said. +</P> + +<P> +He lay looking at her, thin and haggard, but his whimsical smile +unchanged. +</P> + +<P> +"It's she," he said, "or is it the stuff that dreams are made of?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is she," said Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"I've been ill, haven't I?" he said. "And I say, Susan, have you been +nursing me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said, steadily. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought so. I've had a kind of feeling that you were there. What's +it all about? Wasn't I down at the jumps with Rackham,—and the horse +went up—? Did I get damaged?" +</P> + +<P> +"Rather," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"And you didn't fly to America?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," she said. +</P> + +<P> +His weak, amused voice, talking in pauses, smote on her heart. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah," said Barnaby. "It would have looked bad if you'd bolted, +wouldn't it? No end heartless. Susan,—oh, I've noticed things, off +and on,—you've been killing yourself looking after me.—" +</P> + +<P> +His smile was troubled. She shook her head at him. +</P> + +<P> +"You didn't do it," he said, "because, oh,—because of some queer +notion that you owed us something—? You didn't do it to make it up to +us,—to pay us out?" +</P> + +<P> +She put her arm under his pillow and, raising him slightly, lifted the +cup to him and let him drink. If Barnaby could have known:—if he +could have seen her claiming him in her hour of desperation—! If he +could have dimly guessed what a dreadful happiness had walked hand in +hand with pain! She had won something of her mad adventure. She was +the woman who had nursed him, who had waked night after night at his +pillow. Nobody could rob her of that. And when she was gone he would +perhaps think of her with kindness.... +</P> + +<P> +"It wasn't remorse," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"It's awfully good of you," said Barnaby. "But why—but why——" +There was a faint eagerness in his puzzled voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps," she said bravely, "it was the dramatic instinct. How could +a poor actress forget all her traditions? How could she help rising to +her part? Don't talk.... Lie quiet and laugh at me all you want." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +One day Lady Henrietta came into the room with a budget of letters and +all she could rake of gossip. +</P> + +<P> +"You two have been shut up so long," she said, "I believe you have both +forgotten there is such a thing as an outside world. Why don't you ask +who has been inquiring for you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who has been inquiring for me?" said Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +He was propped high in his pillows, and was looking like himself. In +the afternoon he was to dress and sit in a chair and read the paper. +</P> + +<P> +"Everybody," she said. "Poor Rackham has been two or three times a day +when you were bad. Of course it was his horse that did the mischief. +He would not be satisfied without seeing Susan——" +</P> + +<P> +"Did you see him?" asked Barnaby. There was something a little odd in +his intonation. +</P> + +<P> +"Susan see anybody?" exclaimed his mother. "She had eyes for nobody +but her patient. All the wild horses in Rackham's stables would not +drag her away from you.—He's thinking of going abroad for a bit, he +says. To America, or Canada;—he confused me with his talk of cities +and mines and mountains. I don't know if he has any idea of making a +fortune there or if he is looking out for a lady. I said you might +have to go out there too, but the unfortunate accident had postponed +it,—and he said it was a bigger place than I fancied, but to let him +know if he could be of any use to you. His manner was rather queer." +</P> + +<P> +"Poor chap," said Barnaby. "I daresay he is hard up. It would have +been lucky for him if I—Why, what is the matter, Susan?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't tease her," said Lady Henrietta. "You can't possibly realize +what a fright she had!" She turned briskly to the girl, however. "We +never heard any more of that mysterious telegram that was to carry you +off so quickly the day Barnaby was hurt," she said. "Have you quite +forgotten it? Does absolutely nothing matter to you but him?" +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby had begun to laugh, weakly, uncontrollably. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, that will keep," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you know about it?" said Lady Henrietta, catching him up +sharply. "It came when you were out. I understood she was looking for +you when she witnessed your smash. And I'm convinced it has never +entered her head from that day to this." +</P> + +<P> +Then she remembered her heap of letters. +</P> + +<P> +"Look at all these!" she cried. "All begging for news of him! And the +offerings! There never was anything so romantic.... There's one old +woman down in the village that's killed her pig and, Barnaby—she sent +up a delicate bit in a dish for you." +</P> + +<P> +"Romantic—?" said Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, romance has singular manifestations," said Lady Henrietta. "You +never know.... There was that girl of Bessy's, for example, who used +to write poetry.—She was too romantic, poor thing, and that's why she +never married.—She went in for hero-worship. Used to go into kind of +trances of adoration over a famous soldier that she had never seen. +And once I tumbled over her sitting on the hearth-rug with her hands +clasped behind her head, gazing with a rapt expression into the fire. +I thought she was fighting his battles with him in her imagination, or +poetising; but she whispered—'Don't interrupt me! I'm darning his +socks.—'" +</P> + +<P> +She was turning over her letters. +</P> + +<P> +"Here's one for you, Susan," she said. "It's a London postmark. A big +hotel, but rather a common hand." +</P> + +<P> +Susan took it indifferently. Lady Henrietta was already plunged in the +midst of a family letter; wherein an aunt of Barnaby's was presuming to +offer her advice. She read out bits of it with little shrieks of scorn. +</P> + +<P> +"'When Toby broke his leg I made a point of——' Who cares what folly +she committed when Toby broke his leg? 'I do hope, Henrietta, you see +that the doctors do not permit the poor boy's wife to be in and out of +the sick-room. It irritates the nurses.' ... Ah, but ours is a +romantic sick-room! If <I>we</I> had married a fool like Charlotte's +daughter-in-law—!" +</P> + +<P> +She glanced up smiling at the other two. Providence, not she, had +taken the field; and she had faith in its workings as efficacious. But +Susan was not attending. She was reading her letter still. "My dear," +said Lady Henrietta, "who is the common person?" +</P> + +<P> +But she got no answer. +</P> + +<P> +"Come! Tell us," said Barnaby; and at his voice Susan started. +</P> + +<P> +"Somebody I—used to know," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta had returned to her own correspondence. Her mild +curiosity could wait until the girl had finished deciphering the almost +illegible scrawl. +</P> + +<P> +"You might straighten the pillows for me," said Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +She tore the letter across and threw it into the fire. Then she came +over to him and did what he wanted with a jealous eagerness that was +new. +</P> + +<P> +"Was it a worrying letter?" he said, in a low voice. He had nothing to +do but look at her. +</P> + +<P> +"No," she said, "it didn't worry me." But her tone was subdued, too +quiet, as if she had had a shock. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm eternally grateful to you for burning it, though," he said; "that +abominable scent it reeked with was like a whiff of nightmare. I seem +to remember it. I wonder where I can have run across a woman who +advertised herself like that.... I'm glad you burnt it. Considerate +nurse. It was the only thing to do." +</P> + +<P> +She was grateful to him for not insisting. Not yet, not yet; not just +this morning! ... Afterwards she would tell him.... She moved away +from his side and picked up a newspaper from the pile that lay with the +letters. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know what you look like?" said Lady Henrietta, tapping her +cheek. "Like a child that has been startled, like a child when an +unkind shake has scattered its house of cards." +</P> + +<P> +It was true. But such a tottering house, such a dream-built, +precarious house of cards!— +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta dropped her voice, ostensibly to communicate a paragraph +in the aunt's letter that was unsuited to the profane masculine +understanding. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't want to pry," she said; "but was that by any chance an +anonymous letter?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no, no, it was not," said Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"Not Julia's hand disguised? That woman is capable of anything. She's +been here several times inquiring. Sending in brazen messages!—" +</P> + +<P> +"Is there anything in the paper?" said Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +Susan glanced hastily up and down the sheet. No, there was nothing. +Among the theatrical announcements an American play that had come to +London. +</P> + +<P> +"She is looking in the advertisements!" said Lady Henrietta, +affectionately scornful. "My dear, the poor boy is thirsting for +murders and politics." +</P> + +<P> +The advertisements.... And among them—— +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"<I>To-night at 8.</I> +</P> + +<P> +"<I>The Great American Comedy—'Shut Your Windows' ... Mr. Rostiman's +Company. Mr. Hayes, Mr. Vine...</I>" (a long list of names that were +unknown to her, and unmeaning);—"<I>And Miss Adelaide Fish</I>." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby was up and dressed. +</P> + +<P> +He was much amused at his own weakness, at his dependence on that slim, +supporting arm. He let Susan settle him carefully in a chair, and then +frightened her by getting on to his feet and pretending to walk out of +the room. She flew to him, scared, reproachful, making him lean his +weight on her shoulder as she brought him back. +</P> + +<P> +"Tyrannical girl!" he said. +</P> + +<P> +She looked down on him as he sat there, dressed and shaved, his clothes +fitting rather loosely, his blue eyes hollow. How unspeakably dear he +was. How hard to face emptiness.... +</P> + +<P> +"I'll put your mother in charge of you while I am gone," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be too long," said Barnaby. "I'll miss you." +</P> + +<P> +Unwillingly her heart sank. He would miss her. In that little while; +in that scant half-hour—! +</P> + +<P> +"Patient," she said, "you flatter." +</P> + +<P> +And smiled at him bravely, and went away. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"I'll go to him immediately," said Lady Henrietta. She was writing +furiously, despatching a counterblast to the aunt's interfering letter, +which had contained more warnings than she had read aloud. It deserved +six pages. +</P> + +<P> +"How do you spell inseparable?" she asked, hardly interrupting the +delightful business of administering a slap to one whose +daughters-in-law were not wax and whose sons were wild. Distractedly +she glanced at Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"You look wan," she said. "I told them you were to have the motor with +the hood off. Get all the air you can. Do you mind taking this old +brooch into the town to be mended?" Her eyes twinkled as she unpinned +it and put it in Susan's hand. +</P> + +<P> +"There!" she said, "that will make sure you don't hurry back too soon, +pretending you have had your breath of air." +</P> + +<P> +The girl went into her own room and slipped on a hat and coat. While +she tied a veil round her head she remembered that in the diamond star, +which was the only thing in the house that was her own, a stone was +loose. Since she must go in to the jeweller's on Lady Henrietta's +trumped-up errand she might as well take it with her. +</P> + +<P> +The motor was not round when she descended, and she sank into one of +the deep chairs in the hall. When she was away from Barnaby the +strength in her seemed to fail. It had been heavily tried, and the +strain was telling on her, now that it was relaxed. +</P> + +<P> +The tan that had been scattered on the avenue still deadened the sound +of wheels. But she saw Macdonald, who was waiting to pack her into the +car, moving to the door; and rising, she went towards it. She had not +time to draw back as she saw her mistake, for Julia was on the steps. +</P> + +<P> +Swift in seizing her opportunity the visitor walked in at the open +door. There was something belligerent in her entrance. +</P> + +<P> +"How is he?" she asked, without preamble, addressing Susan. Macdonald +had fallen back discreetly. +</P> + +<P> +"He is better," said Susan coldly. "I have to go out, Miss Kelly." +</P> + +<P> +"I must see him," said Julia, in a low, intense voice that would not be +denied. "I've tried and tried, but they never would let me in. You +will take me to him." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>I?</I>" said Susan. +</P> + +<P> +Julia did not blench under these accents of proud surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said. "You daren't refuse me. I know too much." +</P> + +<P> +The assurance in her voice warned the girl that this was no hysterical +vapouring, but a challenge. She answered her bravely, maintaining an +outward calm. +</P> + +<P> +"I am sorry I cannot do as you wish," she said. +</P> + +<P> +How lovely the woman was, with her angry flush, and her long-lashed +eyes. How recklessly she spoke. Some theatrical impulse in her had +overridden prudence; whoever liked might have heard her.... With that +odd irrelevance that keeps the mind steady under fire Susan was +wondering who it was that had said—"Yes, she's a beauty, but the back +of her neck is common——" +</P> + +<P> +"You have no right to keep us apart," said Julia. "I've been patient +... but this is too much! After all I'm not stone; I'm a woman—With +all the world gabbling about you and your devotion—! I daresay you +think you are getting an influence over him. Poor Barnaby—! All this +while you have had him at your mercy!" +</P> + +<P> +She fixed her eyes on Susan with an indescribable stare of scorn. +</P> + +<P> +"Will you take me to him?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"I will not," said Susan. +</P> + +<P> +Julia came nearer. They were practically alone. Macdonald was putting +rugs in the motor. +</P> + +<P> +"I believe you are fond of him," she said ruthlessly. "Fond of him! +You the cheat, you the impostor—!" +</P> + +<P> +Ah,—she had known what was coming. She had read it in Julia's eyes. +Desperately she stood her ground. +</P> + +<P> +"You insulted me once before," she said slowly. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Julia. "Even then I was not blinded.... But now I know. +I've known ever since the Hunt Ball, when Barnaby——" +</P> + +<P> +"Barnaby—?" Susan repeated the word under her breath as if it was +strange to her. +</P> + +<P> +"—When Barnaby said that you were not his wife." +</P> + +<P> +The girl stretched out her hands unconsciously for a support that she +did not find. There was a mist between them, and she swayed on her +feet. Weak in spirit and body from her long nursing, she felt as if +someone had struck her a whirling blow. In a kind of vision she saw +Barnaby and Julia dancing;—always Barnaby and Julia dancing;—people +had talked that night; they had sympathized with her.... Well might +Julia laugh at her disapproving world if he had whispered—that! And +it was true. She had only to look in Julia's triumphant face to know +that this thing was true. +</P> + +<P> +She could not speak. She turned and walked slowly towards the stairs, +and began to go up. On the landing above she waited until Julia had +reached her side. Then she went along the corridor without turning her +head until they had come to the end. +</P> + +<P> +At Barnaby's door she stopped and, turning the handle, spoke at last to +the other woman, the woman to whom he had betrayed her. +</P> + +<P> +"Go to him," she said. +</P> + +<P> +And without another word she left her, and left the house. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Barnaby looked up, surprised. +</P> + +<P> +Susan must have started, and Lady Henrietta would not open his door so +slowly. Who was this rustling on his threshold? +</P> + +<P> +She took a little run into the room, and stopped. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Barnaby!" she cried emotionally. "At last—!" +</P> + +<P> +His unresponsiveness was thrown away on her excited mood. Flushed with +victory she misread his expression, less like rapture than +consternation. +</P> + +<P> +"This is a bit unexpected," he said. "I'm not in very good form, +Julia. I'm afraid I must ask you to excuse me—" +</P> + +<P> +"Was I too sudden?" she said. "Ah, poor Barnaby; how you are +altered;—how ill you look! Let me do something for you—" +</P> + +<P> +She rushed at him with enthusiasm, casting a glance around her for +illumination, and he could but smile at her hasty gesture, not yet +grasping its full significance, not realizing the jealous +self-assertion that lay behind her bewildering readiness to push him +back in his chair, to shake up his pillows, to administer some potion. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't want anything, thanks," he said. He was still grappling with +the problem of her appearance. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh—" she cried, desisting, "to think of you, helpless all this time, +and in the hands of that woman—!" +</P> + +<P> +"Are you speaking of my wife?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +Julia laughed softly, reproachfully, and let her eyes rest on his. +</P> + +<P> +"Foolish man!" she said. "You might have trusted me. Think what I've +had to endure! Wasn't I punished enough for that ancient +misunderstanding? Did you think I was so vindictive that you dared not +confide in me? But I would have shared your burdens. For your sake I +could even forgive your mother." +</P> + +<P> +What was she driving at? His mouth set in a stiff line that might have +warned her if she had not been so sure. +</P> + +<P> +"I meant to wait," she said, "to pretend I was ignorant like the rest; +to hug the secret till you struggled out of that wicked tangle and came +to me. I understand you so well. I knew for whose sake you were +trying to avoid a scandal. Oh, Barnaby, how mad it was—and how like +you—!" +</P> + +<P> +"Julia," he said, "what do you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +She missed the dangerous note in his voice, too quiet. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not angry with you—now," she said caressingly. "But, Barnaby, +was it fair to me? People are so uncharitable ... they talked cruelly +about us. And if I hadn't known that she was not your wife,—if I +hadn't known you were free——" +</P> + +<P> +"That's a mistake," he said grimly. "I am not free." +</P> + +<P> +She stared at him. So great was her gift of illusion, so invincible +the vanity that in her was the breath of life, that she had put down +his stiffness, his strangeness, to the effort to keep his feelings in +control. The glad shock of her visit must have been almost too much +for him. But what was that he was saying? +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," she burst out. "Don't tell me she has entrapped you! That's +what I was afraid of; that's why I felt I must see you at all risks, in +spite of all opposition. I knew she would try to take advantage of +your weakness while you were her prisoner, while you lay here at her +mercy, no match for her—!" +</P> + +<P> +No, he was not strong yet. His forehead was wet and his mouth was dry. +He had a curious longing to find himself back in that cool bed yonder. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, for God's sake," he cried. "Stop talking nonsense!" +</P> + +<P> +His adjuration checked her passionate speech. She remained gazing. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," he said slowly, "how you got hold of +your—hallucination. I don't know on what grounds you are making +that—accusation. Did I hear you say that Susan was not my wife? +Don't repeat it." +</P> + +<P> +Julia drew a quick breath of amazement. +</P> + +<P> +"Barnaby!" she gasped, in an incredulous, startled voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't repeat it," he said stubbornly. Yes, the old fire was +extinguished, the old spell shattered. And still she gazed at him, +unable to comprehend. All at once she began to laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"She did not deny it!" she said. "At first she tried to keep me from +you, but when I told her I knew all,—that you had confessed it +yourself,—she was beaten. Oh, anybody who saw her face would have +known the truth!" +</P> + +<P> +She was frightened then. His eyes were so blue and blazing. +</P> + +<P> +"You told Susan," he repeated, "that I—that <I>I</I> had said she was not +my wife?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said, still defiant, but quailing a little before his look. +</P> + +<P> +He stood up. He was regarding her with an expression that held no +memories of the past. It was all blotted out; no trampled passion, no +hidden tenderness stirred in him to excuse her. +</P> + +<P> +"If you were not a woman—!" he said, in an implacable tone that was +unknown to her.—"You had better go." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +"What a monster I am!" said Lady Henrietta. "How neglectful!—Was I +more than five minutes? You'd have rung if you'd wanted me, wouldn't +you? Poor boy, were you very dull?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's nearly time for her to come back," he said. +</P> + +<P> +He was looking tired. Getting up had not done him good. Feeling +somewhat guilty his mother sat down to amuse him and make up for her +lapse by half an hour's brisk attention. +</P> + +<P> +Somehow his curious depression affected her. She, too, began to listen +for the motor. +</P> + +<P> +"I told her not to hurry back," she said apologetically, as time went +by. "She's been doing far too much. If she doesn't take care of +herself now you're better, she will break down." +</P> + +<P> +"Wasn't that the car?" said Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +But no light step came hurrying up the stairs. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll ask," said Lady Henrietta, and rang. The servant who came knew +nothing, and was sent down to make inquiries. She was puzzled by the +report. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't understand this!" she said. "Barnaby—they say the car has +come back without her." +</P> + +<P> +His look alarmed her. She jumped up quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll see the man myself," she said; "it must be some ridiculous +blunder." +</P> + +<P> +She was a long time downstairs. When she came back she was bewildered +and indignant. +</P> + +<P> +"They tell me," she said, "that Julia Kelly has been; that she saw +Susan before she went out——" +</P> + +<P> +"She came up here," said Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +"So the servants tell me," she said. "I can hardly believe it—! And +the man says that Susan made him drive her straight to the station. He +heard her ask when there was a train to London. There is no message—" +</P> + +<P> +Anger was struggling in her voice with apprehension. She looked +suspiciously at her son. +</P> + +<P> +"Barnaby—" she said emphatically, "if this is Julia's doing—I'll +never forgive either of you!" +</P> + +<P> +He had got on his feet, and stood uncertainly, as if measuring his +strength. The look on his face struck her into silence. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't couple me with Julia," he said, setting his teeth. The sweat +was glistening like dew on his forehead. "Poor little girl ... poor +little girl.... So she's gone. Why, what's the matter with me? What +an incapable fool I am!—How am I to go and find her if I +can't—walk—straight across a room—?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XII +</H3> + +<P> +All London was placarded with that American play. +</P> + +<P> +It ran through the streets in big letters on the omnibuses; it walked +in tilting lines in the gutter; it stared out from all the hoardings +with the wide smile of its principal actress ... Adelaide Fish. +</P> + +<P> +And it was the gaudy poster that startled Susan out of the unhappy +listlessness that had fallen on her. Facing her suddenly it arrested +her wandering step. +</P> + +<P> +Adelaide Fish.... Had the world stood still after all, and was it this +morning that she had had a letter...? +</P> + +<P> +"Hideously inartistic," said one passer-by to another. +</P> + +<P> +"Still she's handsome. I've seen her. One of these big women——" +</P> + +<P> +Yes, it was inartistic. Reds and blues and greens in vivid splashes, +and the name writ large. A marvellous jump from the bankrupt shifts of +the Tragedy Company to this smiling elevation. And Barnaby was still +ignorant. He had not been warned. +</P> + +<P> +She thought of him now. The passionate shame that had caught her up +like a flame sweeping all before it had died out. She felt only a kind +of wonder at herself, looking back. It was inevitable. The impossible +situation could only have ended so.... But in the background all the +while was the woman. +</P> + +<P> +She tried to shake off the lassitude of despair. Why had she burned +the letter? She had been going to tell Barnaby, although the writer +had forbidden her to share its contents with him. It would have been +simpler to let him—but no, she could never have put that letter into +his hands. Hard enough to look him in the face and tell him what she +could repeat;—that the woman who was his wife, the one in whose +likeness she had been masquerading, had written, and was in England. +But before she had spoken Julia had intervened and the waters of +bitterness had closed over her head. +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby must not be left in the dark. She had a wild and sudden +longing to do something for him still; one last service. She could +find out from this woman what were her intentions towards him and if it +were a threat or a promise that had lurked in that ambiguous letter. +</P> + +<P> +She must ask somebody where she was. For the first time she realized +her surroundings, the roar of the traffic, the restless street. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Outside the theatre an interminable train of people, wedged tightly, +endured with their faces turned towards the gallery stair; another +line, reaching far down the pavement and less good-humoured, guarded +the entrance to the pit. The lights falling on their faces threw up a +singular likeness in expression, a kind of touch-me-not attitude that +defied their physical juxtaposition. Squeezed like herrings, their +pained endurance was heightened by the universal lack of a smile. And +the lines were haunted by a street musician strumming his lamentable +tune. +</P> + +<P> +As Susan went up the dark entry she was pursued by unfriendly glances, +the quick suspicion that she was a late comer who must be turned back +ignominiously in her base attempt to push in at the head of the line. +As she vanished inside the stage door there was an interested murmur; +here and there a man unbent and asked his neighbour which of them she +was. Then there was a click and the crowd went surging forward. The +doors were open. +</P> + +<P> +Miss Fish was in her dressing-room. +</P> + +<P> +Like one in a dream the girl was breathing that familiar atmosphere of +the theatre. It seemed to shut off for ever all that was yesterday. +She stumbled into a little room violently scented, full of blinding +light. And a woman swung round and seized her hands. +</P> + +<P> +"There you are!" she said. "I can't kiss you—my face is sticky. I've +sent away my dresser. Wait till I shut that door!" +</P> + +<P> +She made a dash and secured it, then pushed Susan into a chair. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll have to make up while I talk," she said. "Go on; go on. I'm mad +with curiosity! I am dying to hear it all." +</P> + +<P> +"I had your letter," said Susan. +</P> + +<P> +Adelaide laughed. Her warm voice had a note of banter. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't know but you had waxed fat like Jeshurun," she said. "Wasn't +it he that kicked?—So I wrote that letter. I had to see you. You +burnt it? You didn't tell him?" +</P> + +<P> +"He does not know you are here," said Susan. "He has been ill." Her +heart was beating painfully hard; the air in this close little room was +suffocating her. It was not air.... +</P> + +<P> +"Yes?" said Adelaide. "That's how I know about you. My dear, don't +tell me! I picked up a picture paper and saw a piece about him and his +accident, and his devoted American wife!—I'd so often wondered what +became of you. It's tremendous!" +</P> + +<P> +There was admiration in her gaze as she turned unwillingly from her +visitor to the glass, smearing her chin as she talked. "I did hear of +him being alive," she said. "I saw that in one of our papers, 'English +Gentleman Comes Back from the Grave' and so on. I <I>was</I> scared when I +thought of you. They said what a joy it was to his wife and his +mother, and I thought they had been too hasty. But there was never a +word more, though I watched the paper. I decided he must have walked +into the offices here and said—'I do not desire you to mention +this'—I'd heard it was done sometimes by the upper classes. But—!" +</P> + +<P> +Again her face expressed unqualified admiration. "You must have had a +nerve," she said, "you poor kitten!" +</P> + +<P> +The girl sprang up, her mouth proud, her eyes imploring. +</P> + +<P> +"Adelaide," she said, "you were good to me once, you—you tried to help +me. Won't you believe me when I tell you I am nothing to him? It was +all acting, all acting from beginning to end. Never real, never what +you said in your letter. I was only staying in his house +playing—that—part till I could disappear without scandal." +</P> + +<P> +"What?" said the woman bluntly. "Has he never said to you—'If I can +free myself of the other I'll marry you?'" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, never; never!" +</P> + +<P> +"Then," said Adelaide, "it's not for your sake his lawyers are getting +busy, trying to find what they call flaws, trying to break his +marriage? They can try.... You didn't know?" +</P> + +<P> +She turned on the girl with a suddenness that took her unawares; read +her face. +</P> + +<P> +"He's not playing you fair!" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +It was remarkable, just then, how she resembled Julia. Half dressed as +she was, half made-up, her eyes darkened, and scorn on her carmined lip. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll give you a hold over him," she said. "I'll stand by you. Wasn't +it all my doing? Who's that knocking?—You can't come in." +</P> + +<P> +Good-nature was back as she turned from the interruption. She smiled +indulgently, as one who was hoarding a gift. +</P> + +<P> +"I wouldn't lift a finger for him," she said. "But I'm silly over you. +I'll tell you. And you can go back to him and make your bargain." +</P> + +<P> +The girl shut her lips hard. She must listen;—for Barnaby's sake she +must listen. The shamed colour ebbed in her cheek. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not mad, or bad,—at least not to speak of," said Adelaide, "but +I'm careless.... Oh, I'll give you your Englishman, child; you needn't +look so stricken! I once had a kind of a romance myself. When I was a +young thing like you I married myself to a shabby little poet. But I +grew tired of him muttering verses and dreaming things upside down; and +we had a divorce, and I ran and left him and went on the stage. And +all the while that little man kept on writing; and when he'd used up +all his poetry, and all the dead kings and queens, he woke up and wrote +a play." +</P> + +<P> +A queer pride, not unmixed with tenderness, came into her voice at that. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think?" she said. "Nothing would move him but that they +should find me out and give me the star part. 'I have had her in my +mind all these years,' he said, 'and it is she. No one but she shall +play it.'—All these years that I had forgotten him, he was building me +a ladder—." +</P> + +<P> +She laughed abruptly, banishing sentiment. +</P> + +<P> +"I've done all the talking," she said, "and I must, while you sit there +dumb with your big eyes asking me if it's to be the dagger or the bowl. +D'you remember when I was Queen Eleanor, and you were the Rosamond, and +the boys nearly shouted the roof down, begging you not to drink? Ah, +those times, they were funny. I've shot up since, like a rocket into +the sky." +</P> + +<P> +Time was running out. Somewhere in the distance there was a blare of +music. She had finished making up, and she must let in her dresser. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen to me," she said. "His people haven't the clues to connect a +Phemie Watson they never heard of with Adelaide Fish. You'll have the +start of them. Make your terms; make your terms before James and I go +to housekeeping again.... I daresay he'd never find it out for +himself. About that divorce—it was never fixed. The lawyer wanted to +go duck-shooting, and I was gone, and James,—why, they're +unbusiness-like, these poets!—he says he had always hugged an +inextinguishable spark——" +</P> + +<P> +She paused, looking impatiently at her listener, who was so silent. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you understand?" she said. "I'm no more Mrs. John Barnabas Hill +than you are. If you're wise you'll make him marry you to-morrow." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Susan did not know which way to turn when she was in the street. It +seemed much darker; it seemed as if she were lost. +</P> + +<P> +She walked blindly on and on. The people were ghosts that were +streaming by; their faces that gleamed and passed did not lighten her +terrible loneliness. A straw in that human river, she was afraid. +</P> + +<P> +There was a post-office on the other side of the street. She almost +ran to it, unconscious of the swift perils of the crossing. +</P> + +<P> +For she must write to Barnaby, and the thought of communicating with +him, poignant as it was, had a strange touch of comfort. The bare +office became a harbour. +</P> + +<P> +They gave her a letter card, and she wrote at the counter, with the +scratching office pen. That was why it was so ill written. It was +ridiculous how such a trifle hurt her. Was it not the first and last +time she would ever write to him, and did it matter how badly, since it +was to tell him that there was no bar between him and Julia? ... +</P> + +<P> +He would be glad to have it.... +</P> + +<P> +She held it fast an instant before letting it fall into the yawning +slit. She liked holding it in her hand, because it was a link between +her and all that lay behind that curtain of loneliness; because it was +going to him. In a little while he would touch it, would wonder, +perhaps, at the unknown hand, hat poor scribble—! She dropped it in +and it went like her own life into the dark. +</P> + +<P> +For awhile she hurried, fighting her choking terror of the emptiness +that was left. Why was it worse now than it used to be? She had been +in strange cities, she had been friendless.... And somewhere behind in +the glitter that mocked the darkness there was still one person who +would help her, if she asked help; who would be kind to her lavishly, +without understanding. She did not ask herself why it was impossible +to turn in her rudderless flight and appeal to the woman from whom she +had tried to guard her heart. There was a gulf between her and +Adelaide. Little by little the fear driving her seemed to fail, and +all other emotions grew indistinct, crushed by an infinite weight of +fatigue. At last she could not think, could not suffer. She only +wanted to go to sleep. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +It was a frost in Leicestershire. There would be no hunting. +</P> + +<P> +That first irrelevant thought struck Susan as she felt the sharpness of +the air breathing in on her face. The narrow window above her head had +been propped a little way open with a hair-brush, and the curtain that +divided her bed from the next was agitated; she had a neighbour who was +astir. +</P> + +<P> +With her eyes shut the girl imagined the grass frozen white, and the +branches silver; heard the rapping trot of a string of hunters +exercising in the long road beneath the park. +</P> + +<P> +But this was not Leicestershire; it was London, and she was lying in a +narrow bed in a small square attic. At the foot stood a washing stand, +with a jug and basin, at the head a chest of drawers. There was not +room for a chair. +</P> + +<P> +Was it last night she had followed a stranger bearing a candle up +flights and flights of uncarpeted wooden stairs? The weariness of that +pilgrimage obliterated her stupefied sense of relief when the kind, +worn woman had consented to take her in, her absurd inclination to sink +down on the chair in the passage and fall asleep. She had thought she +would never, never cease climbing stairs. +</P> + +<P> +She remembered now. +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta had asked her once, when she and Barnaby had run up for +the day to London, to call on an old governess who was ill. "In a sort +of lodging-house," she had said. "One of these places where women live +in hutches and eat in the basement." And the dreariness of it had +haunted her. Somehow she had found her way there again. The old +governess was gone, but the manageress recalled her face. They would +not have taken her in without luggage at an hotel. +</P> + +<P> +With that came the recollection that she was penniless. The few chance +shillings that she had with her she had spent on her railway ticket. +She remembered thinking of that in the train;—she remembered finding +Lady Henrietta's battered brooch that she had pinned in her dress to +take to the jeweller,—and the diamond star that was the one thing she +had to sell. Ah, that was between her and destitution. She started +up. What had she done with it? She had been too utterly weary to +think or care. +</P> + +<P> +The draught was beating the dingy dividing curtain that swung on its +iron rod; it bulged like a sail over the top of the chest of drawers, +sweeping it clear; and it parted, giving a glimpse of a girl beyond +with the star in her hands. She started. +</P> + +<P> +"I was just putting it back," she said. "The curtain knocked it off on +my side. How it sparkles!" +</P> + +<P> +Susan stretched out her fingers, a little too eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"You needn't be so sharp," said the girl, disconcerted. "I could buy +heaps like it for a shilling apiece at a shop in the Edgware Road," and +she threw it back carelessly, and began to whistle to show she was not +abashed. +</P> + +<P> +She had a plain, good-humoured, impudent face and dusty hair. On her +arms she wore a pair of black stockings with the feet cut off, fastened +by safety pins to her under bodice. She was tying her petticoat. +</P> + +<P> +"I want to sell this," said Susan. In her loneliness she was loth to +offend a stranger.—"But I hope I shall get more than a shilling for +it." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll give you three," said the girl, and then was all at once smitten +with awe. "I say—you don't mean to say it's real?" +</P> + +<P> +Her off-hand manner became subdued; she looked curiously but +respectfully at Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"You came here unexpectedly, didn't you?" she said. "Did you know you +had slept all Sunday? Mrs. White said you were dead tired, and that +you were a lady. I'll lend you my brush, if you like;—and a bit of +soap." +</P> + +<P> +Susan smiled at this proof of confidence. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll shut the window, shall I?" the girl went on, letting it slam as +she withdrew the hair-brush. "I was airing my bed. I always make it +before I go down because I'm anæmic, and I've no breath to run up all +these flights of stairs after breakfast.—If you want to be private you +can pull the curtain." +</P> + +<P> +That was the one thing she would not willingly do for her; with her own +hands shut out the view of one so mysterious. +</P> + +<P> +The other sleepers were stirring behind their enshrouding folds, like +hidden moths preparing to burst from the chrysalis. In one quarter +after another the heavy breathing was cut short by an awaking sigh. +One or two emerged with their jugs and padded barefoot to the hot-water +tap on the landing. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll get you a jugful, shall I?" said Susan's friend, and having +installed herself as mistress of the ceremonies, returned to the +subject of the star. +</P> + +<P> +"Mind you don't try a pawnbroker," she said. "If you take my advice +you'll walk into the swaggerest shop in Bond Street, where they are +used to ladies." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" asked Susan. +</P> + +<P> +The girl assumed a great air of worldly wisdom, cocking her head on one +side like a London sparrow. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," she said, "<I>they</I> won't be so likely to lose their heads over +you, and perhaps ask you how you got it." +</P> + +<P> +She had not considered that. Her dismayed look gratified the girl, who +at once adopted the manner of a protector. +</P> + +<P> +"You'll be all right," she said. "They'll know the difference in the +Bond Street shops. It wouldn't do in the City." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +She had been in a jeweller's shop with Barnaby once, and it was in Bond +Street. If she could find it ... the girl's suggestion had made her +nervous; she would have more courage in going where she had been with +him. Would they eye her askance even there? Would they make +difficulties, ask questions? The thought harassed her. +</P> + +<P> +She lingered a minute outside the shop, when she had found it; gazing +into the glittering window, so preoccupied with her errand that it +never entered her head that there might be anyone who would recognize +her among the idle people that were abroad. Defending herself by a +haughty carriage she took a long breath and went inside. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"How are you?" +</P> + +<P> +She started as violently as if she had been a thief. She had never +expected to meet this man again; and there he was, holding her limp +hand in his. +</P> + +<P> +"I saw you over the way," he said, "and plunged in here to catch you +and ask about Barnaby. How is he getting on?" +</P> + +<P> +At first she thought it must be in merciless irony he was speaking, and +plucked up a spirit to defy him. He had glanced from her face to the +counter; he was a witness of her singular transaction. She felt his +glance burn her. What was he thinking of it? +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, he is getting on very well," she said recklessly. +</P> + +<P> +"Is he up here with you?" said Rackham. Was it possible that he did +not know?—She gasped. +</P> + +<P> +"No," she stammered. And now he looked at her more strangely. She was +gathering up the price of her star and turning to leave the shop. They +had made no demur; they had given her more than she dared to expect.... +</P> + +<P> +"Which way are you going?" said Rackham. +</P> + +<P> +"Your way isn't mine," she said. +</P> + +<P> +He was keeping at her side; she could not outstrip his strides with her +flying little steps. +</P> + +<P> +"But I want to talk to you," he said boldly. "You were a little beside +yourself, weren't you, at our last meeting? I've not seen you since +Barnaby's accident.... You blamed me for it, didn't you? My dear +girl, if I had wanted to murder him I wouldn't have been so +clumsy.—What are you doing in London all by yourself?" +</P> + +<P> +That last question came suddenly, just when his bantering speech had +roused her, and put her off her guard. He was watching her face; and +it blanched. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the trouble?" he said. "Confound—!" +</P> + +<P> +He had cannoned into another man, whose approaching figure he had not +marked. It was Kilgour, in London clothes, who blocked the way, with a +growl for Rackham and a friendly hand-grip for Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"Who's the man charging?" he grumbled. "Though you can't see daylight +through me, still I'm not a bullfinch. Come along, Mrs. Barnaby; you +are just the person I want. I've been praying my gods for a +sympathetic eye. Come and look at my masterpiece in the window." +</P> + +<P> +His large presence was a safeguard. She could have clung to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Half Leicestershire is in Bond Street in a frost," he said. "I knew +I'd run across somebody. I've been up myself since Friday. But what +is Barnaby doing in town? What do the doctors say?" +</P> + +<P> +What a fool she had been not to have dreaded this. Half Leicestershire +in Bond Street! And she had fled to London, the great, engulfing +city—! She could have laughed wildly at herself, at her childish want +of precaution, her romantic imprudence in haunting places where she had +been with him, where it was so likely that she would meet his +acquaintances. But what would he think of her when he heard that she +had been seen....? +</P> + +<P> +Mechanically she walked on a few paces. Rackham was still at her right +hand; he would not be shaken off. And Kilgour was talking in his loud, +kind, friendly voice; taking it for granted that Barnaby and she were +in town together. He did not guess that she was a runaway. +</P> + +<P> +"It came to me in a vision on the top of Burrough Hill," he said. +"Rain and mist and the setting sun.... A kind of greyish-black +gauziness with a stripe of crimson. There! What do you think of that?" +</P> + +<P> +With a grandiloquent gesture he pointed out a diminutive grey and black +turban throned in solitary majesty in the middle of a shop-window. His +shop; his personal achievement. A quaint pride sat on his good red +face, roughened by wind and weather. It was somewhat akin to the pride +great men feel in doing little things. The big successes in life are +too overweighting; they oppress a man with the memory of his struggle, +the long strain, the effort,—the troubling secret of how he has fallen +short. Kilgour might have swelled with pride over greater matters, but +when he thought of them he was humble.... He wagged a delighted +forefinger at his creation, boasting. +</P> + +<P> +"There isn't much of it," said Rackham. +</P> + +<P> +Susan was between the two men; she felt like a caught bird that dared +not flutter, and she had still a frantic desire to laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"That's it," said Kilgour. "No feminine exaggeration. It's all idea +and no trimming, instead of all trimmings and no idea. And as light as +a feather. I tried it on myself." +</P> + +<P> +She <I>was</I> laughing; not at the absurd image his speech called up, not +at the picture of this bluff sportsman gravely regarding himself in a +mirror, balancing his insecure idea on his close-cropped head;—but at +the tragic absurdity of her own position. How little they knew, these +men! +</P> + +<P> +"Good-bye," she said. "I—I am in a hurry." +</P> + +<P> +"Just wait a minute," said Kilgour. "There's another point in its +favour. If you are in a hurry you can clap it on hind-before. Wait a +bit and let me illustrate what I mean. Two or three doors up. You +know this place? It's my rival <I>Jane</I>. Now, impartially, let's pick +these hats to pieces." +</P> + +<P> +But she interrupted his scientific disparagement rather wildly. She +had not known how much she liked him, Barnaby's friend who might have +talked to her of him if she had dared to loiter just for the sake of +hearing his name spoken now and then.... She held out her hand to him +wistfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-bye, Lord Kilgour," she said hurriedly. "Good-bye!" +</P> + +<P> +He squeezed the little hand kindly, not uttering his surprise till she +had vanished from his ken. +</P> + +<P> +"Bolted into the very shop!" he said. "How like a woman. Next time I +meet her she'll have one of these monstrosities on her head." +</P> + +<P> +He nodded carelessly at Rackham, to whom Susan had bidden no farewell, +and strolled on, hailing his acquaintances, looking in the shops. +Turning into Piccadilly he saw a face he knew coming towards him in a +hansom, and raised his stick. +</P> + +<P> +"Thought it was you," he said. "You don't look very fit to be out. +What do you mean by it? I told your wife you had no business racketing +in London." +</P> + +<P> +The hansom had stopped. Barnaby was leaning out, staring at him. +</P> + +<P> +"What did you say?" he asked. There was an incredulous eagerness in +his voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Eh?" said Kilgour, struck by his looks, and sorry. "Barnaby, old +chap, you ought to be in bed. What's up? You haven't come to town to +consult any fancy doctors? No complications, are there? It's +generally when a fellow is mending that they crop up." +</P> + +<P> +"No, it's not doctors," said Barnaby. "Look here, Kilgour——" +</P> + +<P> +"Seems to me," said Kilgour, "as if you had been roped in by Christian +Science. Don't you know what a battered-looking ghost you are?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm all right," said Barnaby impatiently. "Just answer me, Kilgour. +What did you mean by saying you told my wife——?" +</P> + +<P> +"I wasn't meddling," said Kilgour sagely, "I was offering a rational +opinion——" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, stop fooling!" said Barnaby. "Do you mean you saw her?" +</P> + +<P> +The other man was puzzled by the urgent note in his voice. Then he +laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"Missed her have you?" he said. "Oh, yes, you fractious invalid,—I +saw her." +</P> + +<P> +"When?" +</P> + +<P> +There was no mistaking it. Barnaby was in earnest. For the second +time Kilgour had a twinge, an uncomfortable recollection of a brown +leather arm-chair in Wimpole Street and long white fingers handling one +or two queer little scientific dodges that pried into hidden things. +Once he had had to go with a friend. It had turned him sick, that +minute or two of waiting in dead silence to hear the verdict.... Had +Barnaby been there? ... He shook off the unwelcome fancy. If he knew +anything of that girl she would not let Barnaby go into a lions' den +without her. +</P> + +<P> +"Half an hour ago," he said. "With your cousin in attendance. I met +them coming out of What's-his-name's,—that jeweller's shop in Bond +Street." +</P> + +<P> +"What?" said Barnaby. He looked like a man whose wits were staggering +under a mortal blow. Then his mouth set hard, in a fighting line. +</P> + +<P> +"Bond Street," he called up the trap to the driver, and the hansom +dashed jingling on. Kilgour was left marvelling on the kerb. +</P> + +<P> +"By Jove!" he said to himself, proceeding to cool his perturbation in +the peaceable atmosphere of his club, and stoutly refusing, though +troubled in mind, to draw the inevitable conclusion. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIII +</H3> + +<P> +Susan hardly knew how she reached the dreary place that was her refuge. +Meeting Rackham had shaken her. An unaccountable restlessness took +possession of her as she thought of him; she felt him pursuing her; she +had an impulse to run and run until she was hidden from the penetrating +intentness of his regard. In the shop whither she had fled she had +tried to argue with herself, but it had been useless. The relief with +which she had found herself for the moment free from him taught her too +much. +</P> + +<P> +She had glanced desperately backwards. He was not walking on with +Kilgour.... What did she want; what excuse had she for staying till he +was gone? She must buy something. Clothes for travelling;—was she +not going to America?—and she had nothing, not even a handkerchief. +</P> + +<P> +The suggestion steadied her. How soon could she sail? She must find +out at once; must engage her passage.—They had nothing but hats in +here, but an assistant directed her to another shop upstairs. +</P> + +<P> +Recklessly,—since the prices here were extravagant prices for one who +had only a handful of sovereigns between her and want,—she made +purchases. It seemed to quiet her silly agitation, to restore to her +something of her despairing calm. +</P> + +<P> +But when she issued into the street again panic ruled her. She could +not breathe freely until she was far from this dangerous neighbourhood, +until at last she was shut inside the gloomy house in a side street, +that barred out imaginary pursuers with the massive security of its +blistered door. +</P> + +<P> +But she must go out again; she must discover how quickly she could +sail:—perhaps she was missing an opportunity. +</P> + +<P> +The girl who had talked to her in the morning came in and brushed +against her as she passed in the dim hall. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it's you!" she said, stopping. "How dark it is in the passage! I +wish they'd light the gas. How did you get on? I found something else +of yours up there. It didn't look worth much, but it's no good leaving +things about, and there isn't a key in your chest of drawers." +</P> + +<P> +As she spoke she held out something. +</P> + +<P> +"They've been talking about you," she went on, "saying things about you +turning up at night without a bag or anything. They can't understand +you calling yourself Miss and wearing a wedding ring. I told them it +would be worse if you called yourself Mrs. and didn't.—You'll have to +get some things, won't you?" +</P> + +<P> +She looked inquisitively at Susan, who had sunk on to the hard wooden +chair in the hall, unable to face the stairs. But the mysterious +stranger was hardly attending to what she said, amounting as it did to +a declaration that she had found a supporter. Lady Henrietta's unlucky +brooch, that she had inadvertently taken with her, was just then a +precious thing. She remembered how Barnaby had laughed at his mother, +while she persisted in telling its history, and how she had vainly +tried once or twice to throw it away, but had given up. +</P> + +<P> +"I know it's bewitched," she had said. +</P> + +<P> +"It is always bringing me small misfortunes, but I have an uncanny +feeling that I mustn't part with it. Besides, I can't. It has fallen +in the fire, and been left in a railway carriage, and had all kinds of +mischances, but it has always come back to me. It's attached to me for +ever and ever. I don't know what would break the spell." +</P> + +<P> +Susan smiled a little as she gazed at that bit of dinted silver. Fate +had made an end of the superstition. Surely she might keep it, +valueless in itself, for the sake of the woman she would never see +again. Its unluckiness did not matter.... +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said vaguely. "I must go and get some things." +</P> + +<P> +What had the girl been saying? There was a kind of sympathy in her +face. +</P> + +<P> +"Would you come with me?" she asked, yielding to her instinctive need +of companionship. She could not go out alone.... +</P> + +<P> +"Rather!" said the girl. +</P> + +<P> +They set out, an ill-matched couple, flotsam that had drifted together, +and would as casually drift apart. The Londoner led the way +confidently, but surprised at Susan's first errand, the shipping +office. It heightened her interest, and she listened closely to the +stranger's eager inquiries. No, there was no room on the next boat +sailing. She could have a berth in the following steamer if she liked, +only three days later. But was there no boat to-morrow?—Oh, yes, but +no cabin accommodation. The traveller did not care. She would go +steerage. +</P> + +<P> +"You're in a dreadful hurry to sail, aren't you?" said the Londoner, to +whom the trip represented a tremendous voyage. +</P> + +<P> +Yes, she was in a hurry. +</P> + +<P> +"And you keep so close to me; you turn your head sometimes as if you +thought we were followed. What are you afraid of?" +</P> + +<P> +Susan tried to smile, but the truth was too near her lips. +</P> + +<P> +"A man," she said nervously, with her thoughts on Rackham. +</P> + +<P> +The other seemed to understand. She did not ask any more questions, +but was kind and useful, advising her, helping her, reminding her that +she must buy a trunk. Till they turned the last corner, and were +within a few yards of the Rabbit Warren, as this old inhabitant called +the house; then she hung back a little, glancing right and left. +</P> + +<P> +"You're not quite yourself, are you?" she said, consideringly. Her +eyes had the brightened gleam of one plunging alive into a serial tale, +one of these in which lords and ladies behave strangely and the +typewriting girl rules the tempest. As she put her key in the latch +she looked round again. But there were no untoward appearances dogging +them in the distance. There was a disappointing emptiness in the +street. +</P> + +<P> +The gas was lit in the hall at last, accentuating its gloom. The +rather dismal illumination fell on a mahogany table under the stair +where stood a row of candlesticks, each bearing a different length of +candle and a slip of paper. +</P> + +<P> +Susan's ally paused to examine them, reading out the names scribbled on +the slips. It was the custom for those who were to be out late to +leave their candles in the hall, and the last one in, finding a +solitary candlestick left downstairs, knew that it was her business to +chain the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Shanklin, Miss Friend, Miss Mitchell—" read out the inquisitor. +"Mitchell is burnt down into the socket; she reads in bed. She'll set +us on fire one night.—Miss Robinson—that's me, but I've changed my +mind:—Miss Grahame—" +</P> + +<P> +Susan made no sign. Then she remembered.—That was her name again. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes," she said, "is that mine?" +</P> + +<P> +The other girl nodded to herself. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," she said. "It's been brought down by mistake. Better take it +up with you; they don't turn the gas off till ten." +</P> + +<P> +She watched Susan go wearily up the long flights, and then ran swiftly +along the passage and called down to the basement. The boy who opened +the door to strangers and carried coals answered her call out of the +black gulf of the kitchen stair;—his eyes glittering, like a demon +invisible in the dark. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you ladies wanting now?" he asked in an injured voice—"You +can't have 'em!" +</P> + +<P> +"Gerald," said the girl mysteriously, "come up. Higher;—higher! If +anybody calls here asking for a lady, darkish, with grey eyes, and +middling tall,—never mind what name he says—! Don't breathe a word +of it, but fetch me." +</P> + +<P> +"Doesn't sound like you," said Gerald, but grinned, diving backwards +into his native gloom. +</P> + +<P> +Miss Robinson turned from the basement stairs and began her long +journey to the top of the house. No, wild horses would not drag her +out that night. Did they always write down a traveller's address at +the shipping office? Supposing it were her lot to draw two sundered +hearts together? +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The Rabbit Warren was a depressing house. As the day waned its +dreariness increased; it grew fuller of tired women whose search for +work had been useless, and who came trudging in with the twilight to +join the rest who had been listening all day with straining ears for +the postman, while they studied ceaselessly the advertisement sheets in +the daily paper. +</P> + +<P> +It was chiefly the incapable, the discouraged, those who had fallen out +of the ranks through ill health, or were losing their hold because they +were not any longer young, who drifted into this harbour. They were +all in a manner waifs, and they had nothing to hope for but that they +might die in harness. +</P> + +<P> +Susan sat with her cheek on her hand, withdrawn a little, in the dingy +sitting room. She was unconscious of the whispering interest she +excited; she did not hear the subdued discussion that raged around her. +But the atmosphere of the house weighed on her, charged as it was with +failure. It was robbing her of courage. +</P> + +<P> +How strange it was to look back; almost unbearable. How hard it was to +look forward. She was to sail to-morrow ... she must be brave.... +</P> + +<P> +The girl who had struck up a casual alliance with her sat amidst the +others, ripping the ragged binding off a skirt. Her sallow face was +less heavy than usual, her eyes alight. +</P> + +<P> +She had glanced up quickly as Susan came in, and had begun to hum a +tune, snipping fast. It had been impossible to resist the temptation +to crystallise wandering speculation and focus the general attention +for awhile on herself by a few dark hints and thereupon thrilling +silence. The rest fell with a pathetic eagerness on the brief +distraction that lightened their dreary lives. They had outlived their +own little histories; no excitement touched any of them but the +recurrent terror of wanting bread. +</P> + +<P> +All at once Miss Robinson laid down her scissors and listened intently +to something she heard without. +</P> + +<P> +"Is that coals?" said one, huddling near the fire, in a hushed voice, +as who should say—Might the Gods relent?—But no full scuttle bumped +the panels as Gerald put in his head. +</P> + +<P> +"Wanted," he said, and grinned. +</P> + +<P> +Miss Robinson gave one gasp, half in fright, half triumphant, and fled +out of the room, shutting the door with care. +</P> + +<P> +Then, for a moment, cowardice nearly quenched her long-unslaked thirst +for drama. Visions of herself as mediatrix, restoring a runaway wife +to her frantic husband, were upset by fearful misgivings in which she +saw herself figuring, not in the gilded realm of the serial page, but +in lurid paragraphs on the other side of the paper. Paragraphs in +which someone heard pistol-shots.... +</P> + +<P> +In the dim passage she clutched at Gerald. +</P> + +<P> +"What is he like?" she whispered. +</P> + +<P> +"A regular toff," said Gerald in an awed voice. "Asked for a Miss +Grant. None of that name here.—Slight, dark lady.—And then I twigged +that he was your party. I've seen his picture once in the <I>News of the +World</I>; they snapped him, held up by the police in his motor. How did +you get to know 'im, Miss Robinson? He's a lord." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" she said. This was indeed a sensation. This would last her all +her life!— +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby had had no luck in Bond Street. +</P> + +<P> +He sat forward in his hansom, leaning out, gripping the front, ready to +dash it open. It did not matter to him how many fools were about, how +many frivolous idiots, men and women, stopped short in their idle +progress and stared at him. Down Old Bond Street, along New Bond +Street, right to the end he went, raking the narrow thoroughfare with a +searching gaze. The shop signs mocked him. Milliners, jewellers, +palmists, druggists, picture-sellers: a fantastic jumble. She might be +anywhere, within two or three yards of him, and he not know it. She +might have just gone in at that door yonder that was closing. She +might be just coming out. +</P> + +<P> +Half an hour ago. One chance in a hundred.... More likely she was +miles off, whizzing in one of these cursed taxis—! +</P> + +<P> +Well, he could hunt down Rackham. He would drive to that old barrack +of his in Marylebone. No,—that was let or shut up or something. +Where the devil did he go when he was in town? +</P> + +<P> +It was late in the afternoon before he ran him down. He had been heard +of, or seen, in most of his ordinary haunts. One man had come across +him in a saddler's shop, another had passed him ten minutes ago in the +Haymarket. And at last Barnaby found him coming out of his tailors'. +He stopped the hansom. +</P> + +<P> +"Get in," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Hullo!" said Rackham, staring at him. "What's wrong with you?" But +he obeyed mechanically, and the hansom started off. "What d'you mean +by kidnapping a fellow like this? Where on earth are we going?" +</P> + +<P> +"I've told him to drive to my hotel," said Barnaby curtly. There was a +controlled fury in his voice. +</P> + +<P> +"But why the deuce——" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not going to have a row in a cab." +</P> + +<P> +"Whew!" said Rackham, twisting round and regarding the grim outline of +his cousin's profile, his stubbornly closed mouth. Unless Barnaby were +stark mad there was something serious in the wind, something he could +not trust himself to utter without losing his hold on himself. +</P> + +<P> +It was not far to the hotel. Barnaby got out stiffly and Rackham +followed. +</P> + +<P> +"I hope you've got a nurse on the premises," he said,—"or a keeper." +</P> + +<P> +"We'll go to my room," said Barnaby, in the same deadly quiet voice. +Up there he closed the door and turned round on Rackham like one who +had got to the end of his tether. +</P> + +<P> +"Now!" he said. "Damn you, what have you done with my wife?" +</P> + +<P> +"What?" said Rackham. He had not expected that charge. +</P> + +<P> +"You know where she is," said Barnaby. "Don't lie to me. You were +with her in Bond Street——" +</P> + +<P> +So that was it. +</P> + +<P> +"How should I know if you don't?" said Rackham. "Do you mean she's +gone?" +</P> + +<P> +His eagerness was unmistakable. It was worth a torrent of empty +protestation. The two men looked each other straight in the eyes. +</P> + +<P> +The likeness between them came out then, when they were roused. +Something in the angry set of the jaw, something in their expression; a +recklessness, a hard blue stare. +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby had dropped his stick. He could stand up without its support. +For the time he had borrowed strength of passion. +</P> + +<P> +"You don't know?" he said, and took a long breath. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't," said Rackham. "There's no occasion to fight me, if that's +what you brought me here for. I saw her; I spoke to her;—but I was +fool enough not to understand. I supposed she was up in town for the +day, buying rubbish. I never doubted she was going back.—I thought +you were still on your sick-bed and she was looking after you—" +</P> + +<P> +He checked himself abruptly in the burst of angry candour that his +surprise evoked. +</P> + +<P> +"You needn't look so damnably glad—" he broke out, "because I've shown +myself a simpleton, not a villain. Look here, Barnaby, I've answered +your question. I'll ask you to tell me one thing. She's gone, and you +have lost her. What do you mean to do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Search London from end to end," said Barnaby, "till I find her." +</P> + +<P> +"That's how we stand, is it?" said Rackham. "You're not wise enough to +let her go?" +</P> + +<P> +He spoke more slowly, recovering from his astonishment. There was a +light in his eye, and into his voice had come a ring of exultation. He +had got over his first vexation, his rage at his own stupid failure to +guess the great good news. +</P> + +<P> +"What right have you to say that?" cried Barnaby. +</P> + +<P> +"For the matter of that," said Rackham, "what rights have you?" +</P> + +<P> +The shot told. For a minute they looked again fixedly at each other. +</P> + +<P> +"You had my answer," said Barnaby, "when I spoke of her as my wife." +</P> + +<P> +"You stick to that then?" said Rackham. "Though she has found it +unsupportable, though she's gone—you still hold to that pretence? +What's the good? You don't care a straw for the girl. Oh, I've seen +you together; I know the terms you were on.—It's sheer obstinacy makes +you play the dog-in-the-manger——" +</P> + +<P> +"Take care," said Barnaby, breathing hard. +</P> + +<P> +"Let's drop that humbug," said Rackham. "<I>I'm</I> no gossip.—But I've +had an inkling from the first. I've guessed all along that it was a +plant of your mother's.—Infernally inconvenient of you to turn up and +spoil it—! But I held my tongue. Nobody else had any idea of how the +land lay but Julia.—There's a devilish instinct sometimes in a jealous +woman—" +</P> + +<P> +He laughed shortly. Something in Barnaby's look amused him. +</P> + +<P> +"What? She's been reproaching you, has she, after all?" he said. +"Well, I did you one service there. If I hadn't kept her quiet, she'd +have shrieked it all out on the house-tops on the night of the Melton +Ball. You owe me something for that, Barnaby. There 'ud always have +been a few who wouldn't have put her down as a raving lunatic. Mind, I +didn't muzzle her for your sake—I did that for Susan. I wasn't going +to stand by and see that woman hounding 'em on—!" +</P> + +<P> +"Have you done?" said Barnaby. He had got back some measure of +self-control. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm done if you are reasonable," said Rackham. "Why not own up and +tell me what you can, and let me look for her. I swear I'll find +her—but not for you." +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby took one step towards him, and he stood back quickly, smiling +at his own involuntary precaution. He could afford to smile, to stave +off a scuffle that would summon all the rabble in the hotel. +</P> + +<P> +"Steady!" he said. "Don't try to kill me. It would be a waste of time +for both of us. I'm not afraid of you, Barnaby, but I have something +else to do,—now,—than to stop rowing up here with you. I'd better +warn you—" +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby was struggling to hold himself in. Susan had still to be +found, and she would want his protection. Rackham was right there, +damn him; he must not lose his head. +</P> + +<P> +"And I warn <I>you</I>," he said. "I'll find my wife without your help. Do +you hear what I say?—my wife, Rackham. I don't care what story you +have got hold of. Understand that. She belongs to me." +</P> + +<P> +"And yet she's gone," said Rackham. +</P> + +<P> +Somebody was knocking at the door, but so discreetly that neither of +the two men heard. Rackham, turning to go, had halted to fling back +his taunting word. And the other man had no answer. His own storming +haste had undone him. +</P> + +<P> +"You can't get over that, can you?" said Rackham. "It knocks the +bottom out of your doggedness. If she doesn't choose to carry it on +you can do nothing." +</P> + +<P> +"I can take care of her," said Barnaby. His voice sounded hoarse. +</P> + +<P> +"No, you can't," said Rackham, with a sudden fierceness that matched +his own. "That will be my business." +</P> + +<P> +"Yours?" said Barnaby, and his look was dangerous. He advanced on the +other man with a clenching hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Because," said Rackham, "if she's not your wife:—and she's not; she's +nothing to you—I shall make her mine." +</P> + +<P> +In the short silence that fell between them the knocking became +insistent. +</P> + +<P> +"Better let them in," said Rackham, "I'm going." +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby pulled himself together and turned the key. His locking the +door had been an instinctive action. And Rackham passed out, ignoring +the insignificant person waiting on the threshold, who met Barnaby's +look of blank interrogation with an apologetic reminder of his own +orders. He had said if a message came it was to be brought up at once. +And a message it was;—from the shipping office. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +Rackham swung out of the place like a conqueror. The knowledge that +Susan had run away was to him the knowledge that he had won. +</P> + +<P> +He never doubted that he would find her, and inspiration helped him, as +it will the man whose blood runs quicker under the stimulus of his +belief in his luck. What was the shop she had flown into to escape him +and Kilgour, and the embarrassment of their ignorant questions? He had +stayed long enough outside to know it again, waiting till he had no +excuse for loitering any longer. She must have made purchases. He +went straight there. +</P> + +<P> +How simple it was, with luck on his side, to call in and say that a +lady who had been that morning was afraid she had forgotten to leave +her name and address.... This was no big emporium, but a little +exclusive shop where it was possible to describe a customer's +appearance with a chance of finding it remembered by saleswomen who +recognized his standing and were sympathetically amused. In the +hat-shop they directed him upstairs, and there he found an equal +appreciation of his attitude of comical despair, as he tried helplessly +to run through a list of feminine furbelows that the careless lady was +supposed to have ordered to be sent home. How should a man +succeed?—Smiling they reassured him. They recollected the lady +perfectly from his description, and she had made no mistake in that +establishment; the parcel was already packed and waiting to be +despatched. To satisfy him an assistant was bidden to read out the +address on the label, and as she glanced up at him, expecting him to +verify it, Rackham checked himself just in time. For the name she +slurred over was strange to him. +</P> + +<P> +Why, he had thought of that,—since naturally the runaway was no longer +masquerading as his cousin's wife;—and yet he had been about to deny +that it was she. What had it sounded like? Grant, or Grand?—And was +it indeed Susan, or a stranger? He had no means of knowing; the only +thing possible was to go blindly forward, trusting in his luck and +fixing that address in his head. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes, that's all right," he acknowledged, and laughed +good-naturedly at the apparent futility of his mission as he sauntered +out of the shop. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +It was Miss Robinson's mysterious signal that cleared the room. One by +one, like startled shadows, its denizens flitted thence, and left +Rackham alone with Susan. +</P> + +<P> +They hung over the stairs, buzzing like bees in the semi-darkness, +thrilled by an interest that was vaguely heightened by alarm. At +intervals they hushed each other into silence, listening with bated +breath lest anything might transpire, and watching with a kind of +fascination the crack of light that issued from the door of the sitting +room. Only Miss Robinson herself went whispering, whispering on. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor little girl!" said Rackham. +</P> + +<P> +There was triumph and pity and a threatening kindness in his voice. +His reckless personality seemed to fill the room that had been so +suddenly deserted. +</P> + +<P> +She had risen to her feet with a gasp at his entrance. A wave of panic +swept over her head and left her slightly trembling;—because she had +had no warning. +</P> + +<P> +"How did you come here?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," he said, smiling down upon her. "I prevailed on a drab young +woman who seems to have constituted herself your guardian to bring me +in. I wasn't going to risk your giving me the slip as you did this +morning. You wouldn't have seen me if I'd sent in a ceremonious +message." +</P> + +<P> +"No," she said, "I would not." +</P> + +<P> +"I knew that," said Rackham. "The same pride that kept you from +telling me the truth would have hidden you from me. You'd have had me +turned from the door.—But the drab romancer was a great ally, though +I've had to agree with most of her wild surmises.—I'll make you +forgive me later." +</P> + +<P> +He laughed under his breath. +</P> + +<P> +"She asked me," he said, "if I was your husband." +</P> + +<P> +"You—you—! Did you let her think——" cried Susan in a choking +voice, fighting against a strange sense of the inevitable that his look +inspired. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, she had been thinking hard," he said. "A runaway stranger, +calling herself Miss—Grahame, was it?—I got it wrong—and wearing a +wedding ring. What more likely—? I had the part thrust on me +directly I showed my face." +</P> + +<P> +He dropped the half-jesting air that had masked his excitement, and +came nearer. She shivered a little at his approach. +</P> + +<P> +"Daren't you trust me, Susan?" he said. "I'm not a Pharisee.—Why, I +guessed it from the beginning. Don't you remember how I asked you to +let me help you if you wanted a friend?—And all the while I was +watching. Do you think I can't guess how Barnaby drove his bargain, +careless of you, trading on your helplessness in the shock of his +return? What did he care that it was hard on you, so long as it suited +his selfish purpose?" +</P> + +<P> +"He was good to me," she said. It was no use denying anything any more. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you grateful to him—still?" said Rackham. +</P> + +<P> +She turned away her face. +</P> + +<P> +Something in her attitude kindled in him that instinct of protection +that had from the first struggled in his soul with admiration. Had he +not felt a consuming rage that it had not been his to battle for her, +to turn round on Barnaby and his world, all pointing the finger of +scorn at her for a cheat?—He would have liked them to do their worst, +would have liked to defy them.... Well, that occasion was his at last. +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby had nearly fooled him. The extraordinary course he had taken +had at first made Rackham curse himself for an imaginative ass. But he +had been right. His time had come.... And Barnaby was defeated. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said, "that's ended. I'll take care of you now, I'll take +you out of this. Look at me! There's nothing between us now, no +fictitious barrier, no mistaken idea of loyalty to a man who took +advantage of your false step to make you play his own foolish game. +You made a gallant show. It almost deceived me, once or twice, almost +made me believe you liked him.... Never mind that. Like a brave girl +you've freed yourself from that intolerable position. And I'm here, +Susan, where I always was, at your feet." +</P> + +<P> +She lifted her head; a little, sad, desperate face upturned. +</P> + +<P> +"Why must you insult me?" she said. "Is it because I am all alone?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm asking you to marry me," said Rackham. +</P> + +<P> +She stared at him for a minute. His pursuit of her was not all +selfish: there was an impatient fondness in his reckless face. +</P> + +<P> +"I—?" she said faintly. "A woman of whom you know nothing but that +she came among you as an impostor? You cannot mean what you say, Lord +Rackham." +</P> + +<P> +He broke in on her protestation roughly. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think I mind tattle?" he said. "Let their tongues wag. We'll +hold up our heads and flout 'em. I'll leave it to Barnaby to find a +way out of his muddle.—Lord, how it will puzzle them,—how they'll +jabber when they see our marriage advertised in the <I>Morning Post</I>—!" +</P> + +<P> +He was taking her assent for granted, arrogant in the heat of his +headlong moment. Perhaps it did not strike him as possible that she +would refuse. What woman in her plight would not lean gladly on the +rescuer who came to offer her his kingdom? Perhaps he was blinded by +his confidence in his luck. +</P> + +<P> +"I—can't marry you!" she said. +</P> + +<P> +Rackham did not fall back. He laughed indulgently. Was she troubled +because of the world's opinion? +</P> + +<P> +"Dear, silly child," he said. "Don't be frightened. I'll make them +treat you properly. I'll make them swallow their amazement; and they +shall be kind to you." +</P> + +<P> +Yes, this man loved her. That was why she was afraid of him. She was +not used to being loved like that. She had never learned to see in it +help, instead of danger.... +</P> + +<P> +"I can't marry you," she repeated, but her breath came fast. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, but you must!" he said. "Fate is on my side. What kind of a +struggle can you make against me all by yourself? I've found you, +Susan, and I'll never let you go.... There's nothing too outrageous +for me to undertake, and nothing on earth to stop me.—Your hands are +trembling." +</P> + +<P> +He bent to seize them in his, brushing aside her mute defiance with his +violent tenderness, as determined as Fate itself. Just for a minute +she felt very tired in spirit, very weak to resist him. It was so +strange, although it was terrible, to be loved. Why should any man +care so deeply as to stand between her and the emptiness of the world? +Might she not, if she submitted, find the strange worship sweet? +</P> + +<P> +She did not know she was wavering until she understood his smile, and +with that her heart was smitten by a fugitive likeness, a trick of +manner, reminding her of another man. Uselessly, poignantly, memory +stabbed her. She flung out these trembling hands. +</P> + +<P> +"No!" she panted. The thought of it was unbearable. "I can't—I +can't!" +</P> + +<P> +He was taken aback by the vehemence of her cry. For a moment he did +not speak, looking at her queerly. His laugh was angry. +</P> + +<P> +"I've a great mind to bundle you into a cab and carry you off," he +said. "Oh, they'd let me!—I've only to tell these people that you are +my wife and a little mad. My tale would sound more probable than +yours." +</P> + +<P> +She was not sure that he was not in earnest. Panic-stricken she shook +off his hold on her arm, meaning to pass him and reach the door. +Why?—To make a futile bid for sympathy in this house of strangers?— +</P> + +<P> +Who was it that had turned the handle and was coming in? Her gaze was +unbelieving; she could neither breathe nor stir till the suffocating +leap of her heart assured her that it was true. For it was Barnaby +himself who was standing in the doorway, just as he had stood on that +night when she had seen him first. Only the look in his eyes was +changed. +</P> + +<P> +The same faintness overcame her that had stricken her down that night. +She did not know whose arms had caught her as she was falling ... +falling.... But she was afraid of nothing, though all was darkness. +</P> + +<P> +"Your race, Barnaby," said Rackham. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIV +</H3> + +<P> +"I knew we should get you back," said Lady Henrietta. +</P> + +<P> +That had been her first word last night, and she repeated it with the +emphasis of a prophetess justified. Still her clasp of the truant had +been almost fierce. +</P> + +<P> +The journey to London had done her no harm. Rather had all this +excitement given her a fillip. There was a triumphant pink in her +cheek, and amusement twinkled in the fine lines surrounding the corners +of her eyes. Whilst Barnaby had been searching she had been busy, +dealing with an imposing but worldly personage in gaiters, who had been +an old admirer of hers and was her sworn ally. The situation charmed +her; it was like a thrilling but perfectly righteous bit of intrigue. +Quizzically, delightedly, she was regarding Susan. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she maintained. "I pinned my faith to that battered old brooch +of mine. It's unlucky to wear, but still—when I remembered that it +was doomed to come back to me I was tranquil. I knew it would." +</P> + +<P> +She turned from one to the other, challenging them to mock at her +superstition; and then she laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear!" she said. "I'll never forget his face when I was raging at +him.—I blamed him, you may be sure. Or his voice when he called to +me—'She has written!' I could get no more out of him till I lost my +patience and cried—'Then for Heaven's sake read the letter and tell me +what she says!' And when he said—'She says she has found out that my +marriage was illegal' I could only exclaim—'Thank goodness!'" +</P> + +<P> +She laughed again at her picture of his amazement. +</P> + +<P> +"I shocked him awfully," she said. "But I was transported. It had +solved a riddle.... 'So <I>that</I> was the mysterious American business,' +I said, '<I>that</I> is what was the matter! And she has rushed off and set +you free and all the rest of it, you undeserving laggard! If that's +all it can soon be mended.'—And then he woke up from his stupefaction. +But it was I who thought of the Bishop. It was I who suggested a +special licence. I am the head conspirator, Susan,—and I'll go and +put on my things." +</P> + +<P> +She went, glancing back to them as she reached the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't let her out of your sight, Barnaby," she said warningly, and +left them together. +</P> + +<P> +The girl stayed where she was, quite still; gazing down from the dizzy +height of the window on the restless world in the streets below. +Barnaby was limping across to her side. She felt his touch on her +shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"There's the church down there," he said. "Like an island in a +whirlpool, isn't it? But all the roar and the rush dies down like the +noise in a dream when you get inside. It's wonderfully dim and dark in +there, and they're dusting the pews for us,—and there are a few lilies +on the altar. And we'll just walk into it hand in hand." +</P> + +<P> +Her breath came hurriedly, like a sob. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you—sure?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah," he reminded her, "I've never made love to you, have I, Susan?" +</P> + +<P> +She could not answer him, knowing him so close; and she dared not look +up at him. There was so much to remember, and she had begun to guess +how dangerous it had been.... He laughed, and his hand leaned heavier +on her shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"I've been hopping all over London like a mad cripple," he said, "and +at last I've got you. I must hold on to you, or you'll manage to +disappear. Why did you run away when you thought I couldn't follow? +It wasn't fair. Oh, my darling, couldn't you understand?" +</P> + +<P> +His voice was not steady now; there was reproach in its passionate +undertone. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry," she said, and laid her cheek against his sleeve. This +thing that was still too wonderful was true. +</P> + +<P> +"Why," said Barnaby. "It was only you from the first,—that first +night when the sight of you staggered me. I didn't know why, but I did +know that at any cost, at any risk, I couldn't let you go. I thought I +was strong enough, man enough, to keep you safe in my house:—and when +I began to find out what a hard thing I had undertaken, when I had to +fight back the mad desire to make the farce we played at real,—you +believed that I had betrayed you to another woman.... I've got your +letter, your dear scrap of a piteous letter, letting me know that she +and I had no barrier between us.... And that was to be the last I +heard of you, was it, Susan?" +</P> + +<P> +The reproach in his question was lost in its bantering tenderness. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait," he said, "till I have you safe, and I'll teach you... And +then, perhaps, we'll dare to look back on it all and laugh,—a long +time afterwards; just you and I, by ourselves." +</P> + +<P> +Lady Henrietta was back already. She had been discreet, had asked for +no fuller explanation than the one she had so promptly furnished +herself. It was all she was to know; but she was too wise to pry. At +the back of her mind there was nothing but an absolute satisfaction, as +of a warrior who had won her battle. If her eyes, shrewd and +understanding, were dimmed a little as she considered them, she flung +off her emotion quickly and smiled again. +</P> + +<P> +"How funny it is," she said. "You have no idea how I am enjoying +myself, you children. Put her furs on, Barnaby, button her up to the +chin. I promised the Bishop we wouldn't be late. Secret marriages +never are." +</P> + +<P> +Then, hurrying him, she was moved to plague him with an irrepressible +spark of mischief. +</P> + +<P> +"Incomprehensible pair," she said. "I wish I had been at your first +wedding. It must have been frightfully romantic." +</P> + +<P> +Barnaby put away his watch. An unconquerable flicker lit up his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"It was," he said. "I just took her hand like this, and I said—" he +was holding it tight in his—"Let's go and get married, Susan." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t4"> +WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD. +<BR> +PRINTERS, PLYMOUTH +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Barnaby, by R. 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Ramsay + +Release Date: July 11, 2011 [EBook #36699] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BARNABY *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + + + + + +BARNABY + +A NOVEL + + +BY + +R. RAMSAY + + + +AUTHOR OF "THE KEY OF THE DOOR," "THE STRAW," ETC. + + + + + +London: HUTCHINSON & CO. + +Paternoster Row + +1910 + + + + +BY THE SAME AUTHOR + + +In Cloth Gilt, 6s. + + +THE KEY OF THE DOOR + +"The story fascinates; it contains some of the best descriptions of +fox-hunting we have met with, and there is a crispness in the +delineation of all the characters which proves that the author is no +commonplace dabbler in fiction."--_Pall Mall Gazette_. + +"One of the most humorous and lively books that have appeared this +year. It contains some fine descriptions of hunting, and a vivid +picture of county society. The whole book is written with vivacity and +dash."--_Country Life_. + +"Told with a literary skill and a mature judgment which promise well +for future work from the author."--_Times_. + + +THE STRAW + +"Miss R. Ramsay has written but two novels, but if her future work +fulfils the promise of these, or even maintains their standard, her +public should be large and enthusiastic. She describes fox-hunting +from the true sportsman's point of view, but with a dashing vivacity +and humour. There is rare matter in even the best of contemporary +sporting novels, but there is more in Miss Ramsay's. There is no doubt +that Miss Ramsay possesses exceptional literary gifts."--_Gentlewoman_. + +"It is a jovial story, vigorously and vivaciously written. The book is +invigorating, fresh, and quite excellent in its descriptions of hunting +scenes, hunting country, and hunting weather."--_Manchester Guardian_. + +"This story, briskly written, has plenty of exhilarating pictures of +the hunting field in its lively course. It has plenty of fresh, breezy +humour in the delineation of people who hunt, is clever in +construction, and written with a literary skill that keeps the story +always going."--_Scotsman_. + + + + +TO THE MEMORY OF + +MY FATHER + + + + +BARNABY + + + +CHAPTER I + +The lamp flickered and jumped at the stamping in the bar. + +There was a frantic quality in that noise, laughter and exclamation +mixed with a wild shouting that made the crazy partition quiver. It +was a mad reaction from the common weight of despair. + +From the bed in the room behind you could watch the door.... + + +Paradise Town was a broken link in the chain of civilization; it might +have been written in letters of rusted blood on the map. Its pioneers +had forsaken it cursing, its trees had been burned for firewood, its +earth had been riddled in vain for gold. All that was left of it was +huddled near the shanty where men could buy drink and blur the spell of +awful loneliness that shut them away from life. It was worse at night. +With the darkness fell a heavier sense of the distance of human help, +and Paradise was an island in a black sea of haunted land. East and +west, wide and silent, the unknown emptiness lapped it in. + +Ill-luck and some bitter trick had stranded the M'Kune Tragedy Company +in this dreadful place. Night after night they played in a shingle hut +with their useless scenery stacked outside; night after night M'Kune +broke it to his scared company that they hadn't yet got their fares. +Fear and a kind of superstition worked in their minds until they were +seized with panic. In the daylight the men hung about the bar, +muttering; and the women herded by themselves, packed like hens in a +strange run, hysterically afraid. Prisoners in a desert, when night +had fallen they wandered away to the railroad track and watched. +Towards midnight would rise a red gleam on the far horizon, and they +would hear a distant rumbling, gathering to a roar, till the darkness +was split by a whizzing bar of light. By it went, the great, glaring +thing full of life, terrible in its rush, and leaving the night +immeasurably darker. Among the watchers the men would affect to +whistle. If they couldn't board her to-night they might manage it +to-morrow.... But the women caught each other's hands fast, and +shuddered. Latterly they had felt as if the train were a devil that +counted and kept them there. + +But their desperate plight inspired them. Never in their lives had +these poor mummers so hurled themselves into their parts; never again +would they murder and cheat and punish with such passionate realism. +Their fate hung upon it. Penniless and trapped, their solitary chance +of rescue lay in witching all Paradise to stare at them and furnish the +wherewithal. + +"Keep it up," urged M'Kune when a tired actress flagged. The hut was +full and airless, but a few men were sullenly hanging back in the +doorway, drawn thither, but arguing if it was worth it to step inside. +"Keep it up!" hissed M'Kune. + +And the heroine flung herself between the hero and the villain's knife, +slipped as she ran, and was hurt, but struggled up and cried out her +tottering defiance, bringing the house down before she dropped on her +face. + +That was the last night of crazed endeavour. The curtain came rocking +down, and the villain--M'Kune--cheated the gallows to run feverishly +through his receipts. All Paradise was vociferating behind that +flapping rag, but amidst the din the players had heard their manager's +yell of triumph. They had made up their fares at last. + +The Tragedy Company scattered and fled, each in search of his own +belongings; but they had little to gather, and the night wind blew them +together like drifting leaves. They durst not squander their means of +escaping, durst not loiter. The train, thundering by in its midnight +passage, must lift them out of this nightmare town. Waiting they +filled the bar, singing and shouting like lunatics, beside themselves +with joy. + +The door in the partition rattled, but stayed shut, and on the inner +side was silence. Nobody lifted the latch, though the bursts of noise +shook it from time to time. A selfish panic had left no room for any +other feeling. Probably they had all forgotten that one of the Tragedy +Company who could not escape out of Paradise; and it was all in vain +that the crazy bedstead was turned in its corner to face the door. + +She lay without moving. It seemed as if there were nothing of her but +the long black hair covering the pillow. In their hurry those who had +carried her in had not taken out all the pins, and a few glistened in +it still. Looking closer, one saw that her hands were clenched tight +against her breast, as if to keep her heart quiet. + +How fast the minutes went! It must be nearly train time. And surely +there was a vast thing, pulsing, pulsing, like an engine, far away in +the night? She could bear the hubbub of voices, but not the dread of +silence. Was it quite impossible to rise up and struggle to them, and +reach a human face? ... Suddenly she took a panting breath, short like +a sob, still gazing. + +The door had opened at last, and a woman looked in hastily, and, +flinging a word over her shoulder to the rest, stepped forward, +shutting out the streak of light and the voices in the bar. Then she +paused, irresolute. It was so dim in here, the atmosphere was so +anxious.... And nothing stirring ... just a glimmer of wild black hair. + +"You poor little thing!" she said. + +Her voice was warm with the cheap kindness of a nature tuned to play +with emotion, but incapable of feeling it from within. Her sympathy +smacked of the stage, but as far as it went was ready to proffer easy +help. + +"Like the Flight out of Egypt, isn't it?" she said. "It's a shame to +leave you behind. If M'Kune would hear reason, and any of us had a +cent to spare, I'd make a bundle of you, and carry you on to the train +myself. But it won't run to it. I asked him. We're nothing but +ranting beggars.... You'd better write to your friends." + +The girl on the bed laughed. + +So much of despair betrayed itself in that tragic note that the woman +was startled. She came a little nearer. + +"You don't mean it's as bad as that?" she said, lower. "All dead?--I +might have known it. They wouldn't have let a thing like you fling +about with us. But you'll be all right; you'll rub along somehow. We +all do.... And that man who was once a doctor--" + +But at her words a quick terror came to drive out the girl's submission +to despair. She threw out her hands, clutching at the other woman's +dress. + +"What?" said she, comprehending. "Then the brute's charity and +promising to M'Kune--Oh, Lord, what a horrible place it is----!" + +"Don't go!" The girl's voice was a choking cry. + +The woman swung round and listened. Were the rest starting already? +Her fine eyes darkened. She was wrapped up for the night journey in a +faded crimson cloak, her usual wear in tragedy, alike as empress and +villainess. Its dull glow warmed a beauty that was, like her soul, not +quite real. Perhaps she was repenting the hasty impulse that had +brought her in. But she could not pull herself loose from that piteous +hold. + +The younger one looked up beseechingly in her face. Her spirit failed +her; she hardly knew what an impracticable thing she was asking, how +uselessly she was clinging, in her horror of friendlessness. + +"I'm so frightened ... I'm so frightened..." she whispered, panting +because the effort hurt her; her lips were pale, and her forehead was +damp with pain. + +Suddenly the woman clapped her hands. + +"I've got it!" she said. Her face cleared, and she began to laugh like +one whose mind was rid of a burden. Twisting a ring off her finger, +she caught the little desperate hand still clutching at her skirt, and +thrust the ring on. + +"There!" she said. "Change with me." + +"I can't understand," said the girl faintly. The other woman burst +into vehement explanation. + +"It's Providence!" she said. "Never tell me--! I'm used to this life +with its ups and downs, and its glitter of luck ahead. It's in my +bones; the restlessness, and all that. I couldn't give it up. I +wouldn't. But you--! You didn't guess there was a lawyer tracking me, +did you?--that I'm a widow?--that I'm wanted to go and live in England +with his mother. Perhaps she'd have to pay somebody if I hadn't a +sense of duty.... _Me_ picking up stitches in her knitting, yawning in +a parlour with a parrot!--But you'd be safe there, you child--!" + +She paused for breath, triumphant. + +"I'll tell him to fetch you," she said. "The lawyer. Wait a minute--I +have his letter; warning me that there is no money in it--no +settlements, as he calls it. I'd be depending on the old woman's +chanty, like any stray cat." + +She went down immediately on her knees, and plunged into a kit-bag that +she had slung on her arm, turning out its miscellaneous load. There +was a shiver of glass as she fumbled, spilling things right and left; +and the stale air was scented with heliotrope. + +"That's all you want," she said, throwing a heap of papers on the bed. +"Here's his photograph. You can have it. I can't tell you much about +him, but you'll find the clues in there. He was good-looking, too, +poor fellow; a great gawk of a good-for-nothing working with his hands. +John Barnabas Hill--the boys called him Lord John among themselves, and +persuaded me he was incognito. But when I asked him after the wedding +if I was now my lady, he just laughed and laughed; and I went right off +in a passion and never saw him again. It wasn't his fault. I was just +too eager; that's all there was to it. And I'll tell the lawyer I've +left you ill in this wilderness. He'll rush to your side, and take it +for granted that you are me. Don't look so scared. What's the matter?" + +"I can't do it," the girl panted, staring with a dizzy wonder at the +casual Samaritan on her knees. Surely the lamp was sinking, the +darkness seemed dangerously near, the kneeling figure brilliant in a +blur. She tried to keep a picture of that kind human face wherewith to +fill the darkness, while instinctively repudiating her mad suggestion. + +"Rubbish!" said the woman. "It's the simplest thing. You do +nothing.--And you're an actress." + +"But I cannot," the girl said over and over again, holding fast. + +"You'll hurt nobody," urged the woman, attaining to some imperfect +apprehension of an attitude of mind that would not, even in extremity, +buy help with falsehood. "If I'm willing to have you stand in my +shoes, who else has a right to grumble? It's perfectly fair all round. +Look! I'm stuffing these papers under your pillow. I'll tell them all +outside that an English lawyer is coming for you, and that'll make +things easy. Don't hinder me leaving you with a clear conscience. +I've been your friend, haven't I? Hush, hush! I tell you you must.... +I'll not let you die in this den. I'll not be haunted----!" + +There was a tramping in the bar without. They were going. She tumbled +her belongings into the bag, and clapped it shut. The rest of them +were calling her. + +"Luck!" she said, "and good-bye." + +Her eyes dimmed unexpectedly, and she bent in a shamefaced hurry, +printing a kiss on the girl's cheek ... and fled. + +The door closed. In imagination one might see the midnight train +thundering towards the watchers--hear the grinding of the brakes. To +the bustle had succeeded a dreadful stillness. They had all gone like +shadows, and the listener was deserted. + +"I can't ... I can't ... I can't!" she reiterated in a sobbing whisper, +casting the strange chance from her with a last effort of +consciousness. The lamp was dying, and the world seemed to be turning +round. In that unfriended darkness the ring on her finger was +glittering like a charm. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +The day's hunting was over. + +Of the hundreds who had jostled each other in the first run, a +disreputable few survived, pulling up after that last gallop. They +grinned contentedly, drawing out their watches. Thirty-five minutes +from the wood; a straight fox and elbow-room. It had been worth +stopping out for, though now the dusk was thickening fast, and the +huntsman was calling off his hounds. + +"Where's Rackham?" asked one man, peering into the hollow. + +"Gone home. I saw his back as we came through Pickwell." + +"That wasn't Rackham. That was Bond, hurrying home to tea." + +"He's probably come to grief. His horse had had about enough when I +lost him." + +Another man popped his head over the hedge that had worsted him. His +hat was stove in, and his tired animal was blowing on the farther side. + +"_He's_ all right," he said. "The devil looks after his own. I turned +the most horrible somersault back yonder, through my horse catching his +leg in a binder; and before I could pick myself up, over shoots +Rackham, practically on the top of us. If he'd even given me time to +roll into the ditch!--Down he went to the water.... I wish I could +think he was swimming in it." + +"He's not far, anyhow. Hark to him. I'd know that laugh of his a mile +off. There he goes--'Haw, haw, haw!'--all by himself, in the valley." + +They turned their heads to listen, with a broadening and sympathetic +grin, as the dim outline of a horseman took shape in the +semi-obscurity, travelling upwards. It wasn't at all unlike Rackham to +turn up like that, though there hadn't been a sign of him till they +heard his laughter. The wonder would have been if he had let himself +be beaten altogether. What obstinacy had kept him going was explained +by the spur marks on his horse's sides as he brushed through a gap and +took stock of the diminished party, the handful that had, by a minute +or two, outstripped him. + +"Only the tough 'uns in it," he said. "It wasn't bad. Has the fox +dipped into the sunset and left you staring? Where are we? We must +feel our way home, or let the horses smell it out." + +"He's run into a drain. The usual end. What was the joke?" asked the +nearest man. Rackham pulled out his yellow silk handkerchief, and +twisted it round his throat. He was hot, and the air was clammy. With +that, and his wild eyes, and his sandy moustache, he looked like a +handsome bandit. + +"It's turning cold," he said. "What? Didn't you hear the plaintive +toot of a motor lying in wait for the man who sells pills? I'm morally +certain the millionaire is feebly chasing his hunter round and round +that big field with the mole-hills in it, miles and miles behind. I +suppose the chauffeur had his orders; but it would be a charity to hint +that following hounds is the worst way to pick up his master." + +"Didn't somebody catch his horse?" + +"Oh, I did, and chucked him the reins; but I didn't see him get on to +him. I'll bet the idiot let him go." + +"Do him good. He'll probably sit on a gate and pass the time inventing +another pill." + +"Awful if he's benighted, and all the ghosts of all who swallowed the +other pills pop up screeching----!" + +"Poor devil; he will have a time of it, with the mole-hills and the +thistles, and all those ghosts." + +The picture called up was upsetting to the general gravity, and they +dispersed, chuckling in the increasing twilight. A division made for +the turnpike, with here and there an individual branching courageously +into a bridle road; and the larger half halted under a signpost that +stretched illegible arms east and west in the lane. It was pleasant to +linger a minute or two, lighting up, guessing at their direction. But +Rackham kept on. + +"That's not your way, Rackham," one man called after him. + +The match flickered at his cigar, and went out as he threw it in the +road. His horse was walking on with his head down, guided by the +rider's knees. + +"Right," he shouted back. "It isn't. Is that you, Parsley? I nearly +jumped on you, didn't I?" + +"You did," said one of the dawdling group. "He has been complaining." + +"Well, if a fellow will sit down unexpectedly before you, like a hen +under a motor, how can you dodge him? Teach that lazy brute of yours +to lift up his hind legs, Parsley. Do you never hit him?" + +"I say," called the first man. "Come back. Where are you going?" But +Rackham pursued his wrong road untroubled. + +"He can make Melton that way, if he likes," said one of those who were +looking after him. "I daresay he means to call in on Lady Henrietta. +He told me he had a message from her, asking him to come over, but he +wasn't going to miss a day's hunting to see what she was up to." + +"I thought they were at daggers drawn." + +"In a manner of speaking," said the first, dropping his voice a little; +"but outwardly they are civil. Of course, she hates him coming in for +poor Barnaby's property, and I know he was at the bottom of that row +that made Barnaby rush abroad." + +"Ah, I remember, Rackham flirted furiously with Julia----" + +They edged instinctively nearer to each other, snatching at an +enlivening bit of gossip as they jogged on together with the bats +swooping overhead. + +"No mistake about that. And she let Barnaby see plainly that she was +ready to drop her bone for--his cousin. Of course, Rackham is a bigger +match. She's one of these women who can't perceive that titles are +getting vulgar." + +"Rum chap, Rackham. I can't quite make him out. What did he do it +for?" + +"He owed Barnaby one, perhaps. I don't think he was fond of Julia. +Anyhow, he didn't rise to her expectations; and so she relapsed, and +repented, and trails about now like a mourning bride. Poor old +Barnaby; he'll be missed.... And we'll never hear what wild things he +did out there." + +"Desperate sort of cure, to disappear in the backwoods, and never call +on his bankers. Just like him though.--But he shouldn't have got +himself killed in a scuffle in some outlandish quarter, and spoilt the +yarn." + +The man next him grunted. + +"Who started the rumour that it wasn't an accident," he inquired; "but +that life without Julia wasn't worth tuppence to him, and so--and +so----?" + +"Shut up, Parsley. Don't you circulate it," put in his neighbour +hastily. "Heaven send Lady Henrietta hasn't got hold of that." + +"By George, if the tale came to her ears----!" + +The last man mended his pace. He had hung back a little. + +"Rackham's bearing to the right," he struck in. "You can hear the +horse trotting on the hill. He must be turning in to see Lady +Henrietta. I wonder what on earth she wants him for. It was a rather +portentous message." + +They had reached a rougher bit of road and their voices grew +indistinct, drowned in a tired clatter of horses' hoofs, and died away +in the distance. + + +Rackham himself could not guess the reason for Lady Henrietta's +summons. Latterly there had been war between him and his aunt. +Something must have happened to mitigate the rigour of her ban, but he +rather fancied the circumstances must be uncommon that could accomplish +that. He was curious, and not the less so when, having left his horse +to a bucket of gruel, he walked stiffly across from the stables, and +letting himself in at the hall door, found himself face to face with +another visitor, who had just arrived and was slipping off her furs. + +"Julia!" he said, taken aback at her presence in this house. She +acknowledged his amazement with a trickling laugh. Her voice had a +note of melancholy importance. + +"Is it so unnatural," she said reproachfully, "that you should find me +here?" + +The man bit his lip, looking at her. To him there was humour in her +romantic pose. + +They had once been so well acquainted--though lately she had affected +short-sightedness when she saw him--that he imagined he understood her. +He rather admired an invincible vanity that had ignored disappointment +and defied scoffing tongues by making this bid for public sympathy. It +was a brilliant move, but he had never thought it would impose on Lady +Henrietta, that worldly woman with a hot corner in her heart for +anybody who could squeeze in, but an implacable spirit. She had held +out stubbornly up to now. + +"Well--I don't know," he said, hesitating, swallowing his amusement. + +Julia lifted her tragic eyes to his. Perhaps she was not sorry he +should witness her recognition in this house. The trailing black +garments that she was wearing for Barnaby lent a majestic sweep to her +full outlines, and there was a kind of bloom on her cheeks. She +reminded one of a big purple pansy. + +The butler, an old family servant, one of those that know too much, had +closed the great door, shutting out the wind and the stormy sky, +already night-ridden; and was now waiting discreetly in the background. +Rackham nodding to him, remarked a curious twinkle on his face, but +when he looked again it was wooden. + +"I knew she would send for me at last," crowed Julia. "People called +her selfish and cruel, but I told everybody I understood. I told them +to give her time. It must be so difficult for her to realise that +someone else was closer to poor Barnaby than even she. How could she +help feeling, at first, a little jealousy of my grief?" + +"I was sent for, too," said Rackham bluntly. "She said she had +something to show me." + +"Poor dear!" said Julia. "How touching that she should think of it. +You were his cousin, and she wants you to witness her do me justice." + +The man smiled to himself at her manner of glancing backwards at their +fellowship in disgrace. Was it possible that his aunt had really made +up her mind to forget and forgive, and fall upon Julia's neck? He felt +a twinge of something like shame. + +"We mustn't keep her waiting," said Julia. "Is she in the library, +Macdonald? That is where she used to sit...." + +Already she was assuming her ancient intimacy with the ways of the +house, and the servant made way for her as she passed him, traversing +the hall with a mournful swagger. + + +Lady Henrietta was knitting hard. + +She sat in a deep sofa by the fire, turned so that it faced the +hangings that screened off the outer hall. The library was so big that +it seemed to reach at either end into darkness, and the lamps made +little islands of brilliance here and there in the prevailing gloom. +Behind, with the books, there was another fireplace, a red and +glimmering hearth where two or three dogs lay, warm and sleepy, +dreaming of winter tramps and a man calling them to heel. One, a +terrier with a bitten ear, had started half-awake on a run down the +room, but she could not settle on the other rug, and came back +restlessly to her post on the shabbier tiger-skin. + +Barnaby's mother had a thin, hard, eager face, with a flick of colour +high on her cheek-bones. Not an unkind woman, but one possessed by +some passion that had tempered a frivolous, careless nature to a mood +of iron. Her rings glittered as she knitted, and the wires clicked +faster and faster, as if it were impossible that her fingers could be +for a minute still. She was knitting a man's grey-green shooting +stocking. + +Occasionally her eyes, with a strange spark in them, lit on a girl +sitting opposite, gazing into the fire. The girl was young and quiet; +her head shone dark in the ring of light; her cheek was pale, but her +short upper lip showed courage. Lady Henrietta watched her with a +fierce joy that was not yet liking. + +"You're not at all what I expected," she said abruptly. "I was afraid +of what I would see, and I didn't dare to look at you when you arrived +last night;--but twenty times I turned the handle of your bedroom door. +At last, I poked my head in when you were asleep, just to know the +worst.--I nearly dropped the candle when I saw your little head on the +pillow." + +"What did you expect?" the girl said faintly. + +"A great, coarse, fine woman, snoring," said Lady Henrietta. + +All at once she bent forward, putting her knitting into the girl's +hands. There was significance in the gesture. + +"Pick up that stitch for me," she said. "He never liked ladders in his +stockings." + +There was no shake in the hard jauntiness of her voice, but the girl, +searching with bent head for the dropped stitch, felt her fingers +tremble as they touched the rough worsted--felt something pluck at her +heart. Barnaby was dead, and she had never known him; but he was the +one real person walking through a dream in which she had lost herself. + +She was not strong yet. She still had a trick of putting out her hand +to some steady object when she stood up alone. And at first she had +not understood--too ill to question, not wondering. It was as if she +had died one night and awakened to a consciousness of protection, a +mystery of care and kindness, of strangers who took charge of her, +treating her like a precious doll. When she at last knew the reason, +she had felt like one who, falling from a precipice, found herself +clinging, the dizzy horror stopped by a branch;--she could not let it +go. + +So they had found her, and brought her over the sea, and put her to bed +in a great, comfortable room, in a house that was haunted. It was +Barnaby's house, and it was for Barnaby's sake that people were kind to +her. Somehow they were all shadows to her beside the thought of him. +His name had been invoked to shelter her; it had been enough to lift +her out of despair. She had begun to feel safe in a confused assurance +that she belonged to him. + +She remembered last night. She remembered the door sliding softly, and +a rustle in the room, and how she had lain quite still, shutting her +eyes, holding her breath, startled out of sleep. Someone was smoothing +the bedclothes under her chin. She longed to cover her face, but could +not. It was not a ghost, for mortal fingers had touched her cheek. +Soon the rustle had withdrawn from her bedside, and she had heard a +little sound that might have been a sigh. Afterwards the door had +closed, and the room was empty. + +Seized by an unaccountable impulse, she had put her foot to the floor, +and crossed the wide carpet to the fireplace, where the visitor had +gone from her side. The fire had fallen in, flaring high in a +quivering blaze, and by its light she had seen that over the +chimney-piece hung the picture of a man. Instinct had told her who it +was, and she stared at him, fascinated. + +The other woman had left her the wrong photograph in her hurry. This +was no weak boy with a foolish mouth, bundled over-seas by his people. +This was a man with a steady face that betrayed nothing of himself, and +eyes that held her startled gaze. Blue eyes, audacious and +understanding. Her heart beat strangely. For this must be Barnaby the +reckless, who had married a wife and got himself killed ... and she, +poor fool, was calling herself his widow. + +She clung to the chimney-piece, shivering with excitement, a quaint, +slight figure in her white night-dress. + +"I'll hurt nobody.... I'll hurt nobody!" she was explaining to him in +an imploring whisper; and it seemed to her that the man in the picture +smiled. + +"--There, give it back to me," said Lady Henrietta jealously, and her +voice scattered mists of imagination. "You don't think I'm crazy, do +you? You know why it is I can't stop knitting his stockings.--We'll +not talk about him, Susan. You and I have each our own memories, and +we can't share them.--I don't want yours. But we'll fight for him +together; since he belongs to us." + +Her manner took on a sudden fierceness. + +"I've not told anybody about you yet," she said. "I've been hugging +the secret for purposes of my own. I am a wicked woman, Susan. Upon +my honour, if you hadn't existed, I'd have been obliged to invent you. +If you hadn't come to me, I'd have searched the world for an imitation, +from end to end. How he would laugh at me!--But we'll not talk about +him--we couldn't bear it. Only we'll fight for him, as I said. We'll +not let his enemies triumph and pretend that they broke his heart." + +Her voice was quicker, charged with a passionate haste that hurried the +words out before she could close her lips. + +"You little pale thing," she said. "I am not a kissing woman ... but +... oh, you don't know what you are to me. Wait. I'll make you +understand. There's a creature here who behaved shamefully to my boy +... to _him_. And now he is dead she goes about boasting, claiming him +as her victim, hinting to all who will listen that he killed himself +for love of her. It's not true.... You'll teach them it is not true!" + +She stopped, controlling herself. In the hall outside there was the +slight bustle of an arrival, and voices, muffled by distance, came +faintly through. As suddenly as she had spoken, she checked her +outburst of confidence, and picked up her knitting with a terrible +little smile. + +"I know who it is that's coming," she said grimly. "A woman, Susan--a +woman who dresses in black, and prates of a misunderstanding." + +They came in together, the man blinking a little after his ride in the +twilight, approaching with a stiff gait and clinking spurs; the woman +swimming triumphantly up the room. + +"Dear Lady Henrietta!" she murmured, a ready quiver in her emotional +Irish voice. + +"How do you do, Julia?" said Lady Henrietta. She had recovered an +extraordinary calm. "Did you and Rackham meet on the doorstep? I am +pleased to see you both." + +Her ominous quietness struck the man, more observant. His instinct had +not disappointed him, that was clear; he marked her attitude with an +inward chuckle. Something tremendous was toward. + +"You are looking well, Aunt Henrietta," he said politely. "Do you mind +my smoking? We had a tiring day, and I missed my only sandwich." + +"Macdonald will look after you," she said. "Make him get you anything +you want." + +"Thanks," said Rackham. "I'll have something before I go. I meant to +ask him for a whisky and soda, but he shot us in here.--I thought the +old chap seemed a bit excited." + +"Yes," said Lady Henrietta. "They were all so devoted to Barnaby. +Naturally they share my feelings--" She paused significantly, and he +could see that she was watching Julia. "My son has given me a +legacy.... He has left me his wife." + +"How sweet of you to put it like that!" said Julia. + +She had established herself on the sofa without an instant's delay, +taking figurative possession, too self-absorbed to appreciate any +by-play. Her head was full of the tardy capitulation of her +fellow-mourner, and she, in her own eyes, was the principal figure +here. But Rackham, looking on, all but shouted. + +"What?" he said. "Poor old Barnaby! Married? Good Lord! how did it +come about?" + +Julia turned round and stared at him. + +"Lord Rackham!" she said. "Are you mad?" + +Lady Henrietta made a motion with her hand towards the girl sitting in +the background. She could not trust herself to speak to the woman +whose outrageous complacency had survived her blow. + +"My dear," she said, "this is your husband's cousin. He gets +everything when I die--things are so wickedly entailed in this +family--except a pittance I mean to scrape up for you. You know I +don't chatter, Rackham. You can understand I didn't care to set the +neighbourhood talking until I had Susan here." + +There was no mistaking the triumphant note in her proclamation. + +The girl coloured faintly. They were all looking at her now; the +strange woman with a startled face, the man curiously. Some likeness +in him to the picture that hung upstairs troubled her. So Barnaby +might have looked, his dare-devil glance falling on her with a +quizzical compassion. + +Rackham's wits were not slow. He crossed over to her side, and took up +his station on the hearthrug, so close to her that his splashed scarlet +coat almost brushed her black sleeve. Barnaby had been dressed like +him in the picture, gallant in hunting clothes. Would Barnaby have +stood by her? For she understood the significance of his action. This +man wanted to be her friend. She trembled a little, wondering why. + +Lady Henrietta took no more notice of him than if he had been a vexing +shadow put in his place. His strategic movement was lost on her. +Barnaby's mother, in her thirst to punish, her eagerness in striking +for the sake of her son, had not time to consider that the sword in her +hand was his wife. Her eyes were shining with the fire that had burnt +up her tears, and they were fixed on the enchantress who had wrecked +Barnaby's life, and was trading on his old infatuation, making a bid +for public sympathy by flaunting her forfeited hold on him. + +"I can't understand," said Julia, with a gasp. "Barnaby was not +married...." + +But she was shaken. Her blank amazement was turning visibly to dismay. +This stroke was so sharp, so inconceivable, that she lost her head, +refusing to believe in the humbling revelation. + +"It's a plot!" she cried all at once. "A plot against me. What have I +done to be treated like this? Why should I be insulted?--Everybody +knows that Barnaby and I----" + +"Don't be an idiot, Julia," said Rackham softly, but it was not his +interruption that stopped her passionate surrender to the Irish-woman's +instinct to have it out with the world. + +Perhaps the actress was uppermost in Susan, or perhaps an odd impulse +of loyalty to the dead man whose ring she wore carried her out of +herself. Her heart was hot against the woman who had played fast and +loose with him, and it taught her how one who belonged to Barnaby would +have faced this moment. His wife would not be a coward, would not sit, +a piteous listener, in the background; she had his memory to uphold. +And so she found herself standing up, confronting the stranger in a +proud silence that was more eloquent than reproach. Slowly, without a +word, she moved onwards to leave the room. + +"Gad!" said Rackham, under his breath. He liked that. + +Something like awe had smitten Julia. She remained a moment +transfixed, staring after her, all exclamation hushed on her reckless +lips. Then, all at once, she followed. + +"Tell me who you are," she panted hysterically. "It's all nonsense, +isn't it?--It's a sham?" + +Lady Henrietta was watching the scene from her sofa, and so was +Rackham, standing with his back to the fire. They were both far off. +It was a swift and dramatic minute. + +"His mother hates me," said Julia, half to herself; her hold tightened +on the girl's arm. "She's capable of anything. She--What colour were +his eyes?" + +The question was flung at her without warning. But a man's face stood +out distinct in the girl's imagination, haunting her with a clearness +none of these other faces had; smiling whimsically down from his +picture all this while she was letting people proclaim her his.... +Somehow she was defending him, covering his hurt. + +Without thinking, without a pause-- + +"Blue," she said. + +The other woman's hand dropped. She let her go. + +Susan let the velvet hangings fall heavily behind her as she came +through. A kind of wonder at herself possessed her, and her knees +trembled. Mechanically she traversed the hall, and began to climb the +wide staircase, leaning a little as she went, on the solid oak +balustrade. + +On the first landing a window faced the stair, and right and left ran +corridors, interminable, and equally mysterious to the stranger, who +was, in a manner, lost in this unknown house. She sank down on the +window-seat, set deep in the thickness of the wall. + +Outside, the sky was dark with a strange red, as of furnaces under the +horizon, glimmering in the west. She could just distinguish the +jutting corner of the more antique part of the house, built as it was +in different centuries, bit by bit. That side was strangely ornamented +with mediaeval figures--the images of ancient warriors, all battered and +weather-stained. And the land they had won was quiet, lying half +asleep; only the trees still restless as night came on. + +She turned her face. In front of her gleamed the shallow stair, +running straight into the hall below, and all the way down hung +pictures, men and women who had lived in this house, and trod the +stairs, hurrying, lagging, or perhaps clinging, as she had in her +weakness clung to the balustrade. Some were ill-painted, some stared +wickedly; but all of them were watching. There was history in their +eyes. + +The girl felt a queer fellowship with the still procession; she, whose +only title among them was make-believe. Perhaps, in forgotten times, +her own people had fought and loved and ridden side by side with these, +and their descendant had come back to a friend's house. How good it +would be to let the world go on, to walk in a dream always, and not +struggle any more. + +She thought, with a remote disdain, of the scene downstairs. Her heart +was still beating quickly; but that gripping sense of the theatre had +left her. And she knew she had conquered. Barnaby's memory was safe +from the woman his mother hated. One could imagine her claim +collapsing, one could hear her voluble excuse, pleading bewilderment, +accepting the situation--with perhaps a plaintive expression of her +relief in knowing she was, after all, not as guilty as gossip said--had +Lady Henrietta heard the dreadful rumours? And Barnaby's mother would +smile at the thrust with victory in her soul, while the man, his +cousin, would look on, smothering his chuckle, with his head on one +side like a magpie, and a splash of mud that had dried on his cheek. + +It was his step she heard first as they came out into the hall. He and +Julia were leaving together, she talking fast. Her voice, charged with +subdued excitement, rose and fell on a singing note. What she was +saying did not reach up the stairs; only its contralto music. The +sound of it awakened Susan in her mood of overwrought exaltation. +Reality came back to her with a shock. She remembered another voice as +warm, as emotional, with the same theatrical tune of tears; and she +remembered the dangerous charity that had mocked her opposition. +Stripped of its fantastic mist of adventure, she looked at her own +story, and was ashamed. Her very scorn of the woman against whom she +had been pitted turned on herself and scorched her, ranking her as low. +She and Julia--no, she could not bear to be judged with Julia. The +romantic sophistry that had comforted her was gone, and nothing could +stay her desperate longing to be honest. + +They passed underneath. Rackham was helping Julia into her furs, was +hunting for her muff, with his face to the stair. The girl above held +her breath. His nearness affected her with a kind of panic. + +She had an intuition that he was the kind of man who would--guess. She +thought of his quick movement to her side, his presumptuous readiness +to stand by her, unspoken but unmistakable, with an unexplained alarm. +Would they never go? Why did he loiter, looking upwards with that +inexplicable smile? + +As the great door shut, at last, on a silence, she sprang up and went +downstairs. It was a pity she was not stronger. One should not go to +be judged with a tottering step. And she would want all her courage. +Knowing the spirit in which Barnaby's mother had dealt with Julia, she +did not look for mercy. + +But Lady Henrietta was not sitting upright and watchful, with that look +of ruthlessness stamped on her thin, hard, pretty face. She had thrown +herself across the sofa, her fast-knitting fingers idle, the +half-finished stocking that would never be worn fallen from her hand to +the floor. She lay like a broken reed; deprived of the motive that had +sustained her--and she was crying. + +That sight stirred all the heart in Susan. She ran to her blindly, +only conscious of a great compassion that shamed her selfish terror of +the weight of a lie. She could not tell her ... now. + +And Barnaby's mother looked up at her approach. Something of the old +defiant jauntiness came back to her for a minute. She tried to laugh. + +"Come here and kiss me," she called. There was a fierce tenderness in +her cry--"you darling--!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +Susan had flung from her with both hands the imprudent longing to cry +out her story. + +Somehow she felt that if she spoke now she would be a traitor. It was +too late to look back; for good or ill she had changed places with the +other woman who would not come. To fail now would not be to clear her +honour, it would be to desert her post. + +When Lady Henrietta, having triumphed, had given way at last, and had +clung to Susan, the girl, gathered in that fierce clasp, had known that +Barnaby's mother took passionate comfort in her only because the +stranger was something that had belonged to him. To deny her that +comfort would be to rob one who had nothing left. Could she, by a +wistful life of devotion, justify herself, not in the sight of man, not +to hard judges--but perhaps to this Barnaby who was dead, and who would +surely understand? Keeping silent, she promised him that she would. + +Day after day passed over her head, building an unsteady wall between +her and that pitiless outside world in which she had been like a driven +leaf, without hope or foothold. She became accustomed to the lazy +peace of the house, to the watchful offices of the old servants, who +seemed, like Lady Henrietta herself, curiously proud of her. + +Slowly she grew stronger; her thin cheek rounded, still pale, but +touched with a faint promise of colour. + +One afternoon she was taking her solitary walk in the park, and had +wandered farther than she had been. The dogs had left her, scurrying +after rabbits, and she leaned on a stile that offered a resting-place, +a little tired and wistful, gazing at the sinking fire in the west. + +Suddenly the air was quick with galloping, and all around her were +jumping horses. Startled, but unafraid, she watched them coming over +the hedge, imagining that as they came they would vanish. + +"You shouldn't stay there, you might get hurt," called someone, pulling +up at her side. "How are you?" + +She had been looking on, as one would look at a gallant picture, not +realizing that she was in its midst. Instinctively she drew back. All +had stopped, and hounds were clustering in the bottom, where the +huntsman had dismounted, and was peering into a drain. Many heads were +turned, with a rough kindness that excused curiosity, in her direction. +Perhaps they were all Barnaby's comrades, who missed him, and saw in +the pathetic figure one who was missing him more than they... + +But the man who had drawn up beside her was leaning down to her like an +old friend, barring out the rest with his shoulder. His horse, still +excited, jerked at his bit, and flung a white flick of lather on her +black dress. Without thinking, she stretched out her hand to his +muzzle. + +"Take care. He's an uncertain brute," said Rackham. "You like horses?" + +"I used to ride," she said. + +Something awoke in her at that velvet touch, and she could not finish, +thinking of other horses. + +"Good," he said quickly. "Tell you what. I have a mare that would +carry you. I'll come and talk it over--if my aunt will let me in." + +He laughed a little under his breath at that. "How do you get on with +her?" he asked. "_She's_ a warrior--!" + +Susan lifted her eyes to his face. His abrupt friendliness could not +entirely conquer the fluttering apprehension of danger in his +good-nature that made her unaccountably shy of him. There was +commiseration in his look--and admiration. + +"Look here," he said; "we're cousins--by marriage. I've some warrant +to be officious--and you're alone in a strange land, aren't you?--and +all that." + +Was it her imagination, or did he drop his voice significantly? +Perhaps he was glancing at their first meeting, pitying her as a reed +bruised in Lady Henrietta's warlike hands. Perhaps--no, she could not +read his expression. + +The huntsman straightened his back, and walked stiffly towards his +horse. A man who was giving up passed by and gravely took off his hat; +she watched him hooking with his whip at the bridle gate. She was +afraid that they would all ride off and leave her with Barnaby's +kinsman, and his penetrating smile. + +"Anyhow," said Rackham, "I'm here if you want backing.... Just let me +know if you need any kind of help." + +A scream on the hidden side of the spinney beneath them linked up the +field, believing in one of the glorious surprises that light up the +dragging end of the day. The huntsman pushed right through the misty +tangle, calling on his hounds, and the riders disappeared like a +swirling river. A minute and they were gone. + +The girl listened breathlessly to the thudding of distant hoofs. Her +heart beat a little too fast, disturbed by that brief interlude of +excitement. She stood quite still until the last gleam of scarlet +faded, and the galloping died away, leaving a tremendous quiet. There +was no sound at last but the wildfowl, far away on the lake, beginning +their sunset chaunt. + +Half the household had rushed out to look for hounds, and were +returning singly, more or less out of breath, as the girl came home. +It was astonishing what a commotion the hunt, in its passing, had +awakened in that sad household. Lady Henrietta herself, with a shawl +on her head, was in the garden, peering. Her sporting instincts were +struggling in her with a kind of rage. + +"Tell me who were out," she said. "Oh, of course you can't. But +_they_ would know who you are. I am glad they saw you. It would +remind some of them--a man is so soon forgotten! To think of them all +hunting and fooling just as they used; with him left out--! Did they +run from Tilton? I don't suppose a man of them wasted a thought on him +till they saw you there. Did they change foxes, Susan?" + +She talked on eagerly, answering herself with conjecture as she hurried +the girl into the warm house, out of the gathering rain. Macdonald, +the butler, was better informed than she, and his mistress seized on +him as he slipped in, wiping his brow, short-winded but triumphant. He +it was who had holloaed the fox away. + +"Come here and tell me all about it," said Lady Henrietta sharply. +"--At your age, Macdonald--!" + +He approached with solemnity, remembering his dignity, and his +rheumatism, an inextinguishable light in his eye. + +"They ran from Owston, my lady, and lost the fox on yon side of our +bottom spinney. He must have been about done, by the way scent failed, +and they couldn't pick him up again for the gentlemen crowding forrard. +No, my lady, there was two sticks crossed in the earth--and the +drainpipe clogged. But we found 'em one that'll take them a sight +farther than some of them care to go. A real fine fox that was!" He +wound up with real pride. + +"And who was that on the bay?" asked Lady Henrietta. "He took the +fence well, Macdonald." + +"That was his Lordship," allowed Macdonald, but grudgingly. "Ah, my +lady, I seen Mr. Barnaby take that very jump that day they killed their +fox in the park. Clean and fine he went up, and lighted; he never +smashed no top rail!" + +"I know--I know," said Lady Henrietta. "The day he put out his +shoulder." + +"That was a rabbit hole," said Macdonald jealously. "Ah, my lady, his +Lordship will never go like him!" + +Dismissing Rackham with the scorn of an old servant staunch to his +master, he shook his head mournfully and retreated. Lady Henrietta had +turned abruptly from her cross-examination, and held out her hands to +the fire. + +The incident, slight as it was, and brief, coloured all their evening. +Afterwards, Lady Henrietta returned to the subject, amusing herself +with surmises. Had Susan noticed a man with a grizzled moustache and a +furtive eye?--and another who had a trick of jerking out his +elbow?--and one who rode like a jack-in-the-box, starting up +continually in his stirrups? And had she seen a woman in brown, who +usually backed in under the hedge at a check, talking secrets with a +lank man, her shadow,--and all unwitting that there were two sides to +hedges, and that voices filtered through? Insensibly, she branched +into reminiscence, telling caustic histories of these Leicestershire +unworthies, who were all unknown to Susan; and the girl hardly +listened, sitting with her cheek on her hand and a dreaming brow. + +The short interlude had impressed her. But in imagination she saw, not +the splendid figure that had crashed over the hedge down yonder,--but +another, one silently haunting the dim pastures where he had ridden +once, sweeping out of the dusk, and passing into the dusk again. The +swift scene came back to her, with its wild rush of life, hounds, and +horsemen,--only, instead of his cousin, she pictured Barnaby, to whose +memory she had dedicated herself. + +It was wearing late. Soon Lady Henrietta would interrupt herself, +breaking off with a remorseful brusqueness, and order her off to bed. +How quiet it was in the library, that vast, comfortable room! How safe +she felt, and how sleepy, only dreaming, not thinking of anything. + +The white fox-terrier with the bitten ear had stolen down to her and +lay on her skirt. There was a kind of fellowship between her and the +dog. When it jumped up all at once with a shiver she stroked its back +softly, wondering why it alone was excited by the wind whistling +outside the house. And it looked up in her face and scuttled like a +thing possessed down the room. + +"What's the matter with Kit?" said Lady Henrietta, pausing.--"I daresay +she heard Macdonald shutting up in the hall."--And she went on talking. + +Far down the room the heavy curtain swung hastily, and fell back. It +was Susan who, without warning, lifted her eyes and saw somebody +standing there. + +He had walked right in out of the wind and rain, had flung off his +dripping cap, but had not waited to unbutton his greatcoat; and he +looked as he had looked in his picture, but no ghost--real,--with +dreadful blue eyes, and a smiling mouth. + +The girl started to her feet. One wild moment she stared at him. Her +own cry sounded strange in her ears, very far off ... and then the +world went round. + + * * * * * + +Slowly she drifted back into consciousness, and she was lying on her +bed, surrounded by fluttered women, whose amazed whispering reached her +like the dim clamour in a dream. + +"Poor thing; poor thing--it was too much for her." "It was wicked of +Mr. Barnaby to startle her like that. But how like him----!" + +"Lord, Lord! his face as she lay on the floor!--and his mother rating +him as if he'd never been dead an hour----!" + +"'You've killed her!' said she. 'You've killed her!'" + +"Like as not she'll go out of her mind, poor lamb!" + +The quavering excitement hushed suddenly as she stirred. + +"Hold your noise, you!" the old housekeeper adjured the others, pushing +them on one side, and patting her anxiously, promising something in a +voice that shook, tremulous and coaxing,--as one might dangle the moon +to quiet a frantic child. + +Up the long corridor came a man's step, and the pattering of a dog. +The housekeeper jumped, and ran from the bedside, and the maids clung +hysterically together, looking with a scared eagerness at the door. A +superstitious terror was still painted on their faces. + +Barnaby was not dead. The whole dreadful comedy was scarcely clear to +the girl, so dizzy was she with this one miracle, the thing that was +impossible, and was true. Shame had not yet burnt up wonder. She lay +motionless, with her hands on her heart, listening to his step, and +waiting for the sound of a voice that she had never heard. + +"How is she?" + +Oh strange, kind voice, asking that! Susan caught her breath, +remembering who she was not. + +The housekeeper, running out, had closed the door nervously, and was +posted with her back against it, half in a rapture, and half +reproachful. + +"Oh, Mr. Barnaby--! Oh, my gracious!" + +Collecting herself, she went on in a trembling hurry. + +"She's come round at last; she's come to herself;--but the doctor says +we must keep her quiet. You can't come in, sir! It might do harm. He +said so before he went to my lady.... I daren't let you in, Mr. +Barnaby.... Please! ... I've told her you'll come to her in the +morning ... and I was to give you her love." + +The girl started up, horror-stricken, and fell back on the bed, +covering her face. Would nothing silence that foolish tongue, inspired +by its ill-judged haste to pacify the presumed impatience of the man +who had done the mischief? Through the guarded door, through her shut +eyes, Susan had a scorching vision of Barnaby, the stranger, listening +to that brazen message. And between her convulsive fingers she heard +the old servant babbling on.... No, after that, she could not bear to +look him in the face! + +Panic seized her. It grew upon her as she lay quiescent, enduring the +ministrations of sympathizers who would have scorned to touch her if +they had known. Barnaby had not spoken. He had not said to them, "She +is an impostor." He was letting them pity her, handle her gently ... +till to-morrow. + +They had given her something to make her sleep, but the draught was +impotent; instead of soothing, it was exciting a strange confusion in +her head. She got out of bed at last, hearing nothing but somewhere in +her room the heavy breathing of a dozing watcher. Slowly at first, and +then quicker, as the impulse took hold of her, she began struggling +into her clothes. She must go, she must go; she could not stay in this +house. + +Driven by her panic, that could not think, could not reason, she set +her desperate foot on the stair. + +The lights were not out in the hall below; they shimmered faintly as +she passed like a shadow towards the door. If someone should come--! +Feverishly she tried to undo the bar; the latch was very heavy. Her +heart beat so loud that she was deaf to all other noises. + +She did not know that she was not alone till a hand was laid on her +shoulder. + +She turned round, shaking from head to foot, leaning against the door. + +"Oh, let me go!" she cried. + +He looked at her gravely. + +"I'm afraid we're neither of us real," he said. "Let's try not to +scare each other.... They tell me that you're my widow." + +She turned her face from him. + +"Don't look at me. Oh, don't look at me! Let me go," she repeated +wildly. + +His fingers closed over hers, still fumbling at the bar. + +"I don't think I can do that," he said. "The doctor blames me for +frightening you out of your life. He'd hold me responsible if I let +you rush out of my house in the middle of the night like this. If you +don't mind I'll ask you not to make me out a worse fool than I've been +already. And--you aren't going to faint again, are you? Sit down a +minute----" + +His arm went round her quickly; he had unloosed her hands from the +door, and put her into a chair by the fire, before she was sure that +she had not fainted. She leant her whirling head against the packed +red cushions. + +"They gave me something to make me sleep...." she murmured. + +He stood a little way off on the hearthrug, watching her. Kit, the +terrier, lay down suddenly between them, as if it had him safe. + +"How did you know me?" he said abruptly. + +"There is a picture of you," she said; "and I--thought of you so often." + +The man who had been dismissed so lightly from his world looked down +with a queer expression. He could not doubt the utter unconsciousness +in the tired young voice. She had nothing to hope for. She was being +judged. + +"In the name of Heaven, why----?" he burst out, checking himself too +late for, the girl stood up and faced him, calling up all her courage. + +"Because I am a shameless wretch," she cried unsteadily. "A liar and +an impostor.... You don't ask a thief why he has robbed you. You send +him to prison.... You don't laugh at him...." + +"You child!" said Barnaby. + +The strange, kind note in his voice broke down her desperation. +Somehow, she found herself stammering out the story of her Southern +childhood; the brave old family ruined by the war; the last of them +dying, the last friend gone, and she left undefended, to fight for +herself in the world. Not strong enough to nurse the sick, not hard +enough to win her way in business; driven to try if she could live by +her one poor gift of acting;--what could she do but catch at the +happy-go-lucky kindness that had flung salvation to her? + +"I could have died..." she said, scorning herself; "but I ... came." + +"Hush!" said the man softly, all at once, turning round to meet +interruption. The doctor was coming downstairs, deliberately, as +became an all-wise and elderly dictator, peering short-sightedly into +the hall below. + +"Bless my soul!" he said. "Barnaby, you villain, she's not fit to be +talking to you. I warned the servants it was as much as their lives +were worth to let you go near her;--and look at this!" + +He shook his head at them both, but relented, with his fingers on +Susan's pulse. His professional knowledge of woman mitigated his +surprise at her quick recovery. Some women could bear anything, after +the first shock of pain or joy. + +"Good," he said. "Since you're awake, and in your right mind, which I +had hardly dared to hope for,--I'll send you up to Lady Henrietta. She +has been calling for you. Just sit beside her, and tell her very +quietly, over and over again, how Barnaby looks, and all that. I can't +risk her seeing him yet;--her age isn't so elastic,--and nothing will +satisfy her but you." + +Instinctively the girl moved to obey, and stopped. Would Barnaby let +her go to his mother? As far as she could understand--it was still +stranger than a dream--he had not yet proclaimed her an impostor. But +surely the time was come. + +"Oh," said the doctor, following her look; "your husband must do +without you." + +And then Barnaby spoke. + +"You're a bit hard on us, doctor," he said. "We had a lot to say to +each other. But my wife and I can finish our talk to-morrow."--His +voice, as he turned to her, lost its humorous note and became grave. +"Go up to my mother,--please." + +She went. The doctor watched her go, and, shaking off a certain +perplexity, addressed himself to the younger man. Old friend of the +family that he was, his gruff manner poorly hid his emotion. + +"Good heavens, man!" he said. "I can't get accustomed to you. Shake +hands again, will you? I want to feel positive you are not a spook." + +"What about my mother?" asked Barnaby. He too had been watching the +girl go slowly up the stairs. + +"She'll be all right, if we can keep her quiet," said the doctor +cheerfully. "But she can't afford to have any more shocks. Her heart +is bad. You didn't know that, of course. She is a courageous lady, +and has taken all your vagaries gallantly up to now, but this has been +a bit too sudden. If it hadn't been for your wife's collapse +distracting her attention for the moment, taking her mind off the +greater shock----" + +He broke off there. + +"How the devil was I to know?" burst out the other man. "I had no +notion that I was dead." + +"Hadn't you heard----?" + +"How should I? Look here, doctor, I haven't been sulking in +civilization; racketing in cities. I've been roughing it, going up and +down in the earth.--There wasn't much use in writing letters. I told +my mother I would turn up again some day, and she wasn't to be +surprised. I did send her a line, now and then, the last of them a +greasy scrawl in a mining camp, where there was one bit of paper among +the lot of us, and I won it. She can't have got that.... When I had +worked the restlessness out of my blood--some fellows can't manage +that, it takes them all their lives--I had a fancy to come home and +walk into the old place as if I had never left it.... It's simple +enough----!" + +He was bending forward, stammering a little in his excitement. +Suddenly he laughed. + +"By George!" he said. "So that was why the porters fled from me at +John o' Gaunt!" + +The old man surveyed him anxiously, wiping his glasses. + +Often one heard of men who, seized by a thirst for adventure in the +rough, or unbalanced by passion and disappointment, had thrown up +everything familiar and dropped out, to savour the hard realities of +life. Sometimes they reappeared, sometimes only peculiar stories +drifted to their old set about them, and those who might know were +dumb. He felt a most irrational alarm, an impulse to hold fast to this +prodigal. + +"You'll not vanish again?" he said hastily. "You won't want to roam in +search of adventures now you have a wife to take care of." + +Barnaby stretched out for a cigarette and lit it. There had always +been a box of them in one corner of the chimney-piece. It did not +strike him as odd that he should find them there. + +"Have a smoke, doctor," he said. "It'll steady your nerves a bit.... +Yes, I'm sobered." + +He halted a minute, and the terrier at his feet, remembering an old +trick he had taught her, sprang up and blew out the match. As he +stooped to caress her, she began licking him furiously. There had been +some other trick, but she had forgotten that. She made a clumsy effort +to keep his attention by crossing her paws and waving them, which was +how it had begun.... + +"Good dog," he said, and she dropped at his feet, proud of her +cleverness, though grudging his notice to the doctor. + +"You're right there," he went on, as if the thought amused him. "A man +is a fool to go tramping over the world, searching for adventures, when +they come to him on his own hearth." + + * * * * * + +Lady Henrietta lay propped high with pillows, talking fast. + +"I want Susan!" she complained. "Bring me Susan. The doctor shan't +put me off with his opiates. I can't trust any of you but Susan." + +And the girl came faltering into the room. + +Lady Henrietta caught her hand, nipping it tight in hers. + +"Susan, my child," she said. "What a little cold hand you've got! +They're hushing me as if I was a lunatic, humouring me with tales. And +my heart's so funny. I can feel it misbehaving.... I'll die if they +make me angry. Come here, closer. I want to ask you--_you_ won't tell +me comfortable lies.--Has Barnaby come back?" + +"He has come back," said Susan. + +"Are you deceiving me?" whispered Lady Henrietta. "Are you in league +with the doctor?--I sent old Dawson out there, you know, and he said +the report was true.... He saw the boy's grave. He put up a stone.... +And the lawyers came croaking together like ravens, and swore there +wasn't a scrap of doubt.... And Rackham stepped into his shoes, and I +made them search for you high and low!--Oh! no, it's not true! I am +wandering in my mind. Look at me. You and I couldn't cheat each +other. Let me see it in your face!" + +But Susan could not. She dropped her head over the hand clasping hers +so fiercely, and her unstrung nerves gave way; she could not keep from +sobbing. + +Strangely enough, her crying seemed to soothe Lady Henrietta. + +"Ah, you never used to cry like that!" she said. "He has come." She +stroked the girl's hair with her other hand. + +"I suppose they'll let me see him in the morning," she said rationally. +"He will be asleep now, poor boy. He shall come up to me when he has +had his breakfast, and pour out his ridiculous adventures. They must +give him devilled bacon. Margaret, Margaret, stop snivelling, and +remind them to give him devilled bacon. Keep holding my hand, Susan, +and don't cry so. We have got him back." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +The dim light was already struggling in through the curtains before +Lady Henrietta dropped off to sleep, quieted. Susan dared not withdraw +her hand. Her arm grew stiff, ached awhile, and was numb; her head +slid against the pillow, and her eyes shut at last. + +She awakened with a start to hear Lady Henrietta's laugh, weak but +natural, and a man's exclamation, sharp and pitiful, above her. + +"Take her away, Barnaby, and give her her breakfast," his mother was +ordering. "Didn't you see her? The poor child has been sitting up +holding my hand like that the livelong night. I was clean off my +head.... I might have known you'd behave like this. Oh, I can bear +the sight of you now; don't be nervous; I'm not one of those +sentimental mothers--! But since I've taken to heart attacks I have to +be treated with circumspection"--she desisted a minute in her rapid +effort to disguise emotion:--"Barnaby, I am obliged to you for--for +_her_." + +"You're fond of her, are you, mother?" said Barnaby. + +Lady Henrietta laughed at him, amused at his queer intonation. + +"Fond?" she cried. "I adore her. The first minute I saw her, a little +pale wisp in her widow's weeds, I adored her. She isn't your style at +all, you puzzle. You used to admire a more lavish figure.... I can't +understand it in the least; but I'm thankful. And that reminds me you +must take her up to London immediately, and have her put into proper +clothes." + +"Oh, I say----" Barnaby was beginning. She took the words out of his +mouth. + +"Yes, it's your business," she said. "We can't have her going about in +black; it denies your existence--! and you look like a battered scamp +yourself. You'll have to go to your tailor. If you want any money +I'll write you a cheque.... They won't honour yours while you're +dead.... Wake her up now, and take her away to breakfast--and take +care of her if you can!" + +He bent down and touched her arm, and she lifted her head, still dazed, +and stood up from her cramped position. + +"Run away," said Lady Henrietta. "Run away, you two. I am going to +wash my face." + +She kissed her hand to them as they went through the door, and, in +spite of herself, her lip quivered. She lay quite still for a minute, +raging at herself. + +"Quiet!" she muttered. "Quiet! It's nothing to die about, stupid +heart!" + +Downstairs the servants were all hovering, lying in wait, and watching +for a glimpse of the master. Macdonald himself had drawn two +arm-chairs beside a small table by the fire, and unwillingly, but +discreetly, took himself off and closed the door behind him. + +"Sit down," said Barnaby gently. "I'll pour out your tea. You must +want it." + +She let him do as he would, accepting her cup at his hands, drinking +obediently, trying to eat; patient, but not at all understanding him. +The winter sun streamed in red, shining in her hair, making lights in +its curling darkness; it even lent a fictitious pink to her cheek as +she sat, so soberly, facing the man in whose house she was, whose ring +was on her finger. When she turned her head a little the glimmer died. +Irrelevantly--why should the thing strike him then?--he likened her +paleness to the creamy tint of the hawthorn blossom, warm, and smoother +than the wintry white of the sloe. She had been ill, too; she was very +fragile. + +All the while she dared hardly glance at him, though she knew that he +was regarding her, not with the righteous wrath of a swindled Briton +whose house was his castle, but with a strange expression that, less +comprehensible, was little less alarming. The situation seemed to +amuse him.... And it was like a scene in a play; intimate, domestic, +and yet unreal. They were obliged to sit so close at the confidential +little table, with its clinking china, and its neighbouring row of +silver dishes keeping warm in the fender.... She had a wild fancy that +if she thrust her hand in that fire that leapt and crackled so +naturally it would not burn. + +"Well," he said suddenly. "What's to be done?" + +He had risen and come round to her side; the little delay was over. +They had finished breakfast.... + +"I don't know," she said. "I am at your mercy." + +"Do you mind if I smoke?" + +His matter-of-fact politeness, as he waited with the cigarette unlit +between his fingers, provoked in her a fugitive smile. + +"There!" he said. "You are beginning to see the funny side of it too, +as I do. A man who has knocked about the world as I have doesn't +bluster like a Pharisee and a brute, unless he is mad,--or angry. What +on earth could I do to you?" + +"Are you not--angry?" she asked faintly. + +"Not exactly," said Barnaby. "I am rather astonished at your pluck. +Of course, it was frightfully dangerous, and you have got us both into +a hole.--I'm not going to preach at you----" + +He hesitated a little. + +"You know," he said. "I'm an awfully prudent chap, but once or twice +in my life I have lost my head. When I went to America three years +ago, I was only fit to be clapped into a strait-waistcoat. Of course, +I did the first mad thing that came into my head." + +There was a touch of some old bitterness in his voice then, and a sort +of retrospective contempt. + +"It's a grim fact, that," he said. "It can't be got over. I don't +know what possessed me;--but there _was_ a marriage." + +"She is very beautiful," said Susan, uttering her own wandering +thought. She did not know why. + +"Who?" said Barnaby. "Oh,--yes. She was like somebody I knew." + +There was silence between them. Then the man laughed. + +"It was one of those unaccountable acts of temporary madness," he said. +"We're all guilty of such at times. Did she tell you why we fell out? +How she mistook me for a sort of prince in disguise, and turned on me +afterwards, as furious as I was--disillusioned? Don't let's talk about +that. We have our own problem to consider." + +"Yes," said the girl, catching her breath. + +"I am afraid," he said gravely, "we must keep it up for a bit." + +"I--don't--understand," she said. + +"It's the only thing to do," he said. "Look at it fairly. Since the +lady who married me sent you over as her substitute, she can't complain +if I should acknowledge you as my wife. It injures nobody.--Don't +mistake me!" + +For the girl had sprung to her feet, and was gazing at him with horror +in her eyes. + +"Wait!" he said. "I'm not one of these talking fellows.--Perhaps I'm +not putting it clearly. As far as I can make out, the doctor believes +another shock on the top of this one might possibly kill my mother. +She's not to be worried or contradicted. I can't go to her and tell +her, 'That girl you are so fond of is an impostor. I've turned her out +of the house,' seriously, how could I? And do you imagine she'd be +contented with any excuse I could make to her for your disappearance? +I can't risk it. You wouldn't want me to risk it. Come, you owe her a +little consideration----!" + +"Oh--!" she cried. "Yes"--but still she trembled. + +Barnaby smiled down on her encouragingly. Apparently,--after that one +quick word that had hushed her outcry,--he was unconscious of +misconstruction. + +"Besides," he said, "there will be row enough in the papers over my +reappearance. I couldn't stand them getting hold of this. Good Lord! +It would make us a laughing-stock." + +"I am--sorry," she said, in a broken voice. Barnaby dropped his own. + +"Don't be sorry," he said. "Be a brave girl, and let's keep it to +ourselves." + +Her heart jumped and stood still. She looked at him like some wild +thing caught in a trap, without hope or help, crying its uttermost +defiance. + +And the man understood. His eyes looked straight into hers, blue and +earnest, no longer careless. + +"If I trust you," he said, "you must trust my honour. Please +understand that I am a gentleman. We'll play our farce to stalls and +the gallery, and when the curtain is down we'll treat each other with +the most profound respect." + +She tried to speak and could not. His voice softened. + +"There's nothing else to be done," he said. "It won't be so hard on +you;--you're an actress. And we'll find a way out, somehow. Perhaps, +in a month or two, I can manage to have important business in +America----" + +She caught at that. + +"And take me with you and drop me somewhere--?" she suggested. + +"Take you with me and drop you somewhere?" he repeated. "Exactly. We +must think it over." + +"I could get killed in a railway accident--anything!" she said, in an +eager, breathless voice. + +"How accommodating!" said Barnaby. "There, that's settled. To my +mother, and all outsiders, we'll be the most ordinary couple; but in +private it shall be Sir and Madam. Shake hands on it, and promise me +you'll play up." + +He took her hands, the one with his ring on, the other bare. And Susan +looked up at him, and was not afraid any more. She felt safe, and yet +reckless;--almost as if she did not care at all how it ended, as if +nothing were too dangerous, too adventurous for her to promise him. + +"Right," he said. "And it's comedy, not tragedy, we're playing. We +mustn't forget that." + +"No," she said uncertainly; but she was not so sure. + +"And now I'm going round to the stables," he said, changing his tone. +But he turned back again on his way to the door. + +"What am I to call you?" he asked. "The other lady had a string of +fine-sounding names. Which of them do you go by?" + +She coloured. His question smote her with the strangeness of their +compact. + +"Only one," she said, "and that was my own. I asked your mother to +call me Susan." + +"Susan," he said to himself. "Susan ... I'll remember." + +She took one impetuous step towards him as he was going out. + +"How good you are to me," she cried unsteadily. "Oh, how good you are!" + +But Barnaby shook his head. + +"Poor child," he said briefly. "I hope you'll always think I was good +to you." + +And he went out of the house whistling to himself. + + * * * * * + +"What shocking writing!" said Lady Henrietta, "and how blotted! Who's +your illiterate correspondent?" + +Barnaby had stuffed his letter into his breast-pocket as he walked +across the room. + +"Julia," he said shortly. + +As if upon second thoughts, he felt for it again, pulled it out, and +tossed it into the fire. Its agitated, irregular lines started out +black on the burning pages. Susan, who was sitting on the velvet curb, +turned away her face that she might not read. + +Lady Henrietta, frail but indomitable, throned upon her sofa, eyed her +son jealously. + +"How did she know so quickly?" she asked. + +"She heard it from somebody, I suppose," said Barnaby. "Why, mother, +do you imagine a real live ghost can visit Leicestershire without the +whole county hearing? ... She wants me to go over and show myself." + +"You're not going?"--her tone was sharp. + +"No," he said. "I'll tell her I am under contract to exhibit myself +exclusively at a music-hall.--And besides, I have to run up to London. +I want to give old Dawson the fright he deserves. He must have been in +a frantic hurry to wipe me out of his books. What on earth made you +choose him to hunt for me?" + +"Take Susan with you," said Lady Henrietta. "Go with him, my child, +and don't let him out of your sight." + +"I don't think she would like it," said Barnaby, doubtfully, but his +mother was not to be gainsaid. It was almost as if the mention of +Julia had revived a vague apprehension in her, as if she were afraid to +let him go by himself. He submitted, laughing. + +"Well," he said, "if you'll lend her your fur coat I'll wrap her in +that and take her. We'll go up in the morning and come down at +five;--and she can amuse herself getting clothes." + +He bent down to Susan. + +"If you don't mind," he said, half in a whisper; his tone was +apologetic. "I think you had better come." + +And so they went up together. + + +In the train he supplied her with an armful of picture papers, and she +studied them gravely, hidden from him behind their outstretched pages, +till they reached London, when she had to put down her screen. Once +only he interrupted her. + +"Look at that," he said. + +The train was swinging on, making up time between Kettering and Luton; +the letters danced as he held out his open newspaper, with a finger on +the place. Its heading stared at her--"A LEICESTERSHIRE ROMANCE." + +"That," said Barnaby, and his eyes twinkled--he had put away +seriousness--"is all about you and me." + +She did not see any more pictures after that, only bits of what she had +read before he took back his paper and, turning over the crackling +sheet, settled into his corner. Whatever she tried to look at, she saw +only the printed column proclaiming the dramatic return of a well-known +sportsman supposed to be dead; and at the bottom, where his thumb had +pressed the paper, a touching reference to the subject's beautiful +American wife.... + +At St. Pancras he put her carefully into a hansom and got in beside her. + +"Now," he said, "this is our dress rehearsal. First, we must see about +your theatrical wardrobe; that's the expression, isn't it? I'm going +to take you to the woman my mother goes to, and while she is rigging +you out I'll cut away to my lawyers, and see my own tailor; and then I +shall fetch you and we'll have lunch. We shall have to get accustomed +to each other." + +Driving through the streets with him was curiously exhilarating. +Perhaps her spirit was responsive to a reaction. After all, she was +young.... If Barnaby knew, and did not condemn her, might she not for +a short while dare to be light-hearted--leave the weight of it on his +shoulders? + +London had become a city of enchantment. She had passed through in the +care of Lady Henrietta's messenger, at the end of her journey over the +sea; and then she had felt tired and frightened, and she had looked +listlessly out of the cab windows, thinking that if Fate betrayed her, +she might find herself wandering friendless in these very streets. Now +the dark ways were gilded.... + +"Here we are," said Barnaby, jumping out. "_Melisande_. She's a great +friend of ours, but she ruined herself racing, and started the shop as +a different kind of gamble. Let's go up." + +In the show-room upstairs two or three haughty ladies were trailing up +and down, on view. The customers were not allowed to touch them; these +sat round the room on the sun-faded yellow cushions, gazing at the +models as if they were made of wax. + +"Melisande is uncommonly sharp," said Barnaby. He had walked in boldly +and given his name to the presiding genius, who had simply glanced and +vanished. "Do you see these creatures sweeping to and fro?" + +"Yes," said the girl. "Poor things; they look very cross. I suppose +they are dreadfully ill paid?" + +Barnaby smothered an irreverent laugh. + +"Paid?" he said. "Not a farthing. She introduces them in the season, +and, in return, they have to act as dummies. They hate it; but she +knows how to drive a bargain. It's a fine advertisement. Half the +world comes to stare at the beauties--it's funnier than a picture +gallery. And, of course, the pull of being taken up by Melisande in +her society capacity is enormous." + +"Who are they?" asked Susan, puzzled. + +"Oh, heiresses, of sorts, They used to be whisked away in their own +motors at six o'clock. I daresay they are still," said Barnaby. "Here +she is." + +An inner door flew open, and a stout woman with dark hair and clever, +tired eyes, artistically blacked, appeared. She ran up to Barnaby and +shook him, then let him go, and inspected him at all angles, with her +head on one side as if he were a Paris model. + +"Barnaby!" she screamed. "It is really Barnaby. You lunatic, I +thought you were dead and buried." + +"They all thought that," said Barnaby. "It's a bit rough on me." + +"Let me pinch you again!" she said. "I can't have you in here if +you're not alive. It's against all my rules, and customers are so +timid. Of course, as a ghost you might be very useful. Make the +brutes pay up!" + +"What an eye to business!" he said, enduring her inspection. + +"My dear man, I am in the workhouse! My friends insist on patronizing +me, and ordering all kinds of magnificence, and then they go away +imagining they have done me a kindness. I never dine out without +meeting at least one frock that's a bad debt, and you can't be +brilliant when you are being eclipsed by a wretch opposite out of your +own pocket. But what do you want? I can't come out to lunch. I am +rushed to death. There's an awful old Russian princess in there I +can't get rid of. She says she wants to learn the trade, and I daren't +leave her with my designs. I can't make out whether she's only a +Nihilist or a kleptomaniac." + +"I want to put my wife in your hands," said Barnaby. "I'll come for +her at two. Can you burn all that crape, and dress her in something +sensible?" + +Melisande screamed again, fixing her eyes for the first time on Susan. + +"Is it a joke," she said, "or have you been playing fast and loose with +other people?" + +"I don't know what you mean," said Barnaby, but his eyes hardened. She +glanced at his face, subduing her voice a little. + +"I have never been paid," she said, "for an outfit of the most +expensive mourning. The day after we read of your--departure in the +papers, Julia Kelly came in here and asked what was the proper thing to +wear when you lost your--love. I told her it varied. If the man +hadn't proposed black would look like an affectation. I suggested +mauve as harmlessly sentimental. And she said, 'But if he were +practically your husband?' and I said, of course, practically widow's +mourning, but not a cap. And she wore it...." + +He moved restlessly under her detaining hand on his sleeve. "I'm +betraying no confidences," she said. "It's a matter of common +knowledge.--How long, in the name of goodness, have you been married? +Who is she?" + +"Two or three years," he said. She was still holding on to his coat. + +"Wait," she said. "Wait. Oh, you are as mad as ever. How do you want +her dressed? She looks awfully young, poor child." + +But Barnaby had made his escape. + + +An hour later Susan looked at herself in the long mirrors that were all +round her, and did not know herself any longer, she was so changed. + +She had grown used to the deep black garments that seemed a part of her +life. Far off and dimly she remembered the old family lawyer in +shocked consultation with her nurses, his old-fashioned anxiety that +when she was strong enough to travel she should be fittingly attired, +and do honour to her sad estate.... + +A door opened at the other end of the room, and she saw Barnaby in the +mirror, saw him standing petrified on the threshold till Melisande's +laugh called him to his senses. + +"Do you like her?" said she. Susan did not hear what he said. But in +the mirror he came towards her, and she turned round to meet him shyly. + +"Take her away, then," said Melisande. "Buy a shilling's-worth of +violets and stick them in her coat; it's all that's lacking. I'll send +down a trunk full of oddments with you to-night.--And give my +compliments to Julia when you see her. 'To account rendered,' you can +murmur in her ear." + +Her malicious laugh pursued them a little way down the stairs. They +came out into the street and walked along side by side. + +"I went to see Dawson," said Barnaby suddenly. "Burst into his office, +meaning to scare the old jackass out of his wits. He--he turned the +tables on me. Made me feel a brute." + +"How?" asked Susan. + +He did not explain at once, engaged in making a way for her on the +pavement. Then he answered briefly. + +"He told me how he had found you." + +His tone, angry as it was, warmed her soul. + +"But,--it was not your business," she said, in a low voice. "It had +nothing to do with you." + +"I couldn't tell him that," said Barnaby. "Lord, how he went for me, +poor old chap--! Spared me nothing. Said I could never make it up to +you.... It's ridiculous, isn't it? But if you'd heard him attacking +me!--I had to promise him I would try." + +He was walking on beside her, so close that his arm brushed hers, his +long strides falling in with her little steps. And he was looking down +on her with a sort of raging kindness. + +"You poor little girl!" he said. + +They went on for awhile in silence, and then Barnaby stopped in his +absent-minded progress. His good-humour was back, and the joke of this +expedition was again uppermost in his head. He pointed with his stick +at a strange and wonderful work of art in a milliner's window. + +"Let's go in here and buy some of these hats," he said. + +All her life Susan remembered that day with him. It was all so absurd, +so simple. That strange town, London, was always to her the place +where he and she made acquaintance, playing to ignorant audiences their +game of Let's Pretend. She began to know him;--the way he walked, +swinging his shoulders, stopping short when a sight amused him; his +whimsical earnestness over little things, and the lines that came round +his mouth when he smiled.... + +There were horses being put into the train when they arrived at St. +Pancras. The grooms in charge of them were leading them gingerly +through the people, past the lighted bookstall, persuading them up the +gangways into their boxes. There was a small commotion as one of them, +snorting, refused to step on the slanting boards. Tugging and shouting +at him made him worse; he began to plunge, scattering the onlookers and +the porters smiting his flanks. + +"Hi! you infernal idiots..." said Barnaby. "Back him in." + +He went over to the horse himself, and took hold of his bridle, turned +him round, and walked him in like a lamb. Then, as the porters clapped +shut the side of the horse-box, he waited to ask whose hunters were +going down. Susan, lingering a little way apart, saw a big man with a +cigar in his mouth spin round and seize him. Two or three more shot +out of the throng and hurled themselves upon him, wringing his hand. + +"It's Barnaby himself," they shouted. "Barnaby himself!" + +They crowded him up the platform, a noisy escort, hiding their feelings +under boisterous chaff; Meltonians, old acquaintances.... They passed +by Susan, gossiping hard. + +All at once Barnaby broke loose from them, turning back. "Great +Joseph!" he said. "I've lost my wife!" + +What if he had? What if she had cut the tangle, had slipped when his +back was turned into one of these moving trains, and passed out of his +life, out of the bustle into the throbbing darkness, like a match that +had been lit and extinguished, leaving no trace? + +She watched him hurrying back, looking for her; saw his quick glance +along a glimmering line of carriages passing him on his left, and +guessed his apprehension. Soon he was bearing down on her, charging +through the press, and had pulled her hand through his arm. + +"It was too bad, wasn't it?" he said. "I'm awfully sorry,--Susan." + +There was a real relief in his voice. She felt it, wondering. Was he +so glad to find her still his prisoner, his accomplice? + +"Did you think," she said, and in her own voice laughter struggled with +a strange inclination to tears,--"that I had run away?" + +"Come on," he said cheerfully, not replying. "Hold on to me. Those +chaps are looking at us." + +He marched her to his friends, who had halted in a body when he dashed +back, and waited, grinning sympathetically, for his return. + +"Here is my wife," he said. "I brought her up to town to get rid of +her widow's weeds." + +They shook hands with her solemnly, a kind gravity in their manner to +her subduing them for a minute; and then, as Barnaby settled her in the +Melton slip, they hung round the carriage door, and their tongues were +loosened. + +"Where did you pick up these horses? Are they part of your baggage +from another world?" + +Barnaby laughed. + +"They aren't mine," he said. "I brought nothing back with me, not even +a collar-stud. Why, I pawned my watch in the States!" + +"Wouldn't the ferryman let you return on tick? But you were mixed up +with them, Barnaby, when I saw you. I'd know your voice anywhere, +shouting Woa!" + +"He's bound to get mixed up with horses, alive or dead," said the big +man. "I tried to find out myself whose cattle they are, but the name +is unintelligible. They can't pronounce it down there; not all the +sneezing and snarling in the station can do it. I'll bet its another +of these wild Austrians." + +"D'you remember the three counts who set out on a slippery day to ride +to the meet at Scalford;--and were fetched back to the Harboro', the +three of them, half an hour afterwards, in a cart?" + +"Broken ribs, wasn't it?" said Barnaby. + +"Cracked heads, I fancy. I'll never forget the sight it was; all you +could see of 'em was the three shiny top hats, stove in." + +The lights were flickering in the station only the great yellow +clock-face shone unchangeable, with its minute hand creeping up. Down +below on the platforms scurrying passengers went their ways, gathering +in thickening groups and eddying here and there round a pile of +luggage. Everywhere there was restlessness. + +Susan leant back in her corner. Their end of the platform was a little +dim, and it was less frequented. She noticed a woman's figure passing +along the train. + +Barnaby was loitering, half in, half out of the door, absorbed in +chatter. They were asking him if he were coming out with the Quorn, +offering to lend him a crock to-morrow; relating the current news about +men and horses. Once the big man turned his head casually as the +figure that Susan had noticed passed. His mouth shaped itself in a +whistle, but he made no remark. Only his broad back seemed to block +out a little more of the view. + +"It's about time we started," he said. + +"What's the matter down there?" asked Barnaby. + +"Oh, I fancied I saw a customer," he said promptly. "Did you take your +wife to the grasping Melisande? You might have patronized another old +friend in me. There's a hat in the window I trimmed myself." + +"What?" said Barnaby. + +The big man chuckled heavily. + +"You didn't know I'd gone in for millinery?" he said. "If you had had +your eyes about you you'd have seen my establishment. _There's_ a +business that women never will understand! They haven't got bold +ideas; they are too fond of twisting. It was an accident, really. I +was financing an aunt of mine, Clara Lady Kilgour,--and the thing was +going bankrupt. I strolled into the shop one morning and found Clara +weeping, and the Frenchy who had lured her into it sniffing like a +noxious weed in a bed of artificial roses. Just by way of cheering her +up a bit, I snatched up an affair the serpent was working at--a muddle +of feathers and scraps of lace.--'You'll ruin that!' they wailed. But +hey, presto! I had found my vocation. I kicked out the bailiffs and +took it over. And now I am running it as 'The Earl of Kilgour, late +Fleur-de-lis.'" + +The guard came down the train, shutting doors. Barnaby's friends +dropped off, tumbling into the smoker behind. The whistle shrilled. + +"Wouldn't you rather get in with them?" said Susan, in sudden shyness. + +"What? that would never do," explained Barnaby, pulling up the window. +"The poor dear fellows have left us religiously to ourselves." + +He threw a _Westminster_ on her knee and took off his hat. + +"What was Kilgour staring at, do you know?" he asked. "He seemed +rather disturbed; didn't want us to notice." + +"I don't know," she said. + +Barnaby laughed out loud. + +"We got on famously," he declared. "We'd pass muster anywhere. But +you are tired out, aren't you? Lean back in your corner and go to +sleep." + +The slip carriage was rocking from side to side, and her head ached +from the strain and excitement of the day. The same shyness that had +smitten her as his friends left them made her shut her eyes under his +regard. She rested her head on the stiff padding, listening to the +thrum of the engine, wandering in dreams that could not match the +fantastic unlikeliness of what had befallen; and all the while feeling +his gaze on her. + +She was roused by the jar as the train stopped at Bedford. The +carriage door was opened and closed; they were no longer by themselves. + +"Barnaby!" + +Tears were imminent in the emotional Irish voice. + +"How do you do, Julia."--The man's tone was firm and hard. + +"I knew you were in the train.... But with these gossiping wretches +all round you!--I could not bear to meet you with them...." + +"Don't waken my wife. She's tired." + +His warning struck abruptly on her impulsive murmur. She sat down, +rustling, unfastening the furs at her throat. The train had started +again, and was speeding on. + +In her far corner Susan stirred. This was the figure she had seen in +the distance, the figure that Barnaby's friend had tried to block out +from his attention. All Barnaby's friends must guess how hard it would +be for him to meet her again, since he had once worshipped her.... +Looking straight into the flying darkness, Susan tried not to see his +profile reflected in it, tried not to watch his expression, inscrutable +as it was. + +"What fools we were!" sighed Julia. + +"Regular fools," he said. + +The girl drew a quick breath. She had thought she was beginning to +know him, and still she could not guess if he spoke in irony or +despair. She raised her head; fluttered the paper on her knee.--They +must not think that she was asleep. And Barnaby looked at her. + +"This is an old friend of mine, Susan," he said sedately. Julia +presented a pale face and shining eyes. + +"Mrs. Hill must be quite accustomed to the enthusiasm of your friends," +she said. "_I_ have been lingering at St. Pancras since three +o'clock,--somebody told me you had been seen in a restaurant--for the +sake of travelling back with you." + +"How good of you," said Barnaby, in the same constrained way. "We +didn't know, did we, Susan, that we had been spotted?" + +Julia turned to him again; her speaking eyes hardly left him.--"Not +good," she said, "only human." + +The train rocked on, filling the inevitable pause with its throbbing. +Then Barnaby's voice cut into the silence. + +"We don't mind indulging your human curiosity, Julia," he said, "but +why stare at us so hard? We, too, are only human, aren't we, Susan?" + +"It is so strange," said Julia, "to think of you with a wife." + +Barnaby bit his lip. He reddened. Perhaps the sight of her had shaken +him, had hit him deeper than he was willing to betray. Her emotion at +meeting the man whom she had mourned as dead was visible; she made no +attempt to hide it. Perhaps his own was the greater for being stifled +by his determined effort at self-control. He got up, fiddling with the +window-sash. + +"Would you like this a bit down?" he said. "How is your headache?" + +Did he know that her head ached, or had he addressed her at random? +The girl felt an unreasonable anger at his ostentatious solicitude. +Was he playing her off against his old love? Did such bitterness wait +behind their compact? For the first time, his kindness hurt her. All +a farce, all a blind, and a make-believe.... + + + + +CHAPTER V + +In the morning Barnaby went out hunting. He started gaily, in old +clothes, on a borrowed horse. + +"Next time I die," he said, "and they put away my relics, I beg you all +not to scatter infernal white knobs of poison among them to keep away +the moths. I call it irreverent. And unless this horrible smell wears +off I'll have to keep to leeward. A single whiff of it would kill the +scent." + +He came in at dusk, stiff and splashed, but contented, calling for tea, +and waking up the house. It was extraordinary what a difference his +presence made as he limped into the hall and hung up his whip. Life +and vigour seemed to blow in with him; the terriers rushed at him +dancing, barking, pattering into the library at his heels. Lady +Henrietta, propped on her sofa, gave a little sharp sigh. + +"Give him his tea, Susan," she said briskly. "How did he carry you, +Barnaby? Who was out?" + +"Oh, all the world and his wife," he said. "Carry me? He wouldn't +have carried a grasshopper. But I changed on to a chestnut that +Rivington wants to sell. I've bought him. Not much to look at, but he +goes well enough, and I was so pleased to feel a real galloper under +me, I'd have given him any price.... It's good to be here again. +Though my boots are as hard as iron. I believe I am lamed for life. +By the by, Susan, I've let you in for one thing. I couldn't help it." + +She looked up, startled, from her place by the fire. + +"It's only to dine out with some people to-morrow night," he said, +noticing her alarm. "I couldn't get out of it, really; they mobbed me +so." + +"Who is it?" asked Lady Henrietta. + +"Only the Drakes," said Barnaby. + +His mother nodded. "Yes; show her off to your friends!" she said. + +She was in and out of Susan's room next evening all the while she was +dressing, and when the girl's toilet was finished she came with her +hands full of jewel-cases. + +"You can't wear much to-night," she said. + +"It would look dressed up. But a few pins,--and a star or two to give +you confidence in yourself.... My dear, you don't know what a help it +is! And all the women you'll meet have been at one time or another in +love with Barnaby. Hold up your head, and don't let them make you +wretched. Is that you, Barnaby? I want you." + +Barnaby passed by on his way from his own room, and her shrill call +stopped him. His step outside sent the colour into Susan's cheek, and +his voice came doubtfully through the door. + +"Yes, mother?" + +"Come in; come in. How shy you are!" said she, and the handle turned. + +"You will tire yourself," he said, but she brushed aside his +remonstrance. + +"Rubbish!" she said. "I have the whole evening to lie up and swallow +physic. Come here and stick these in for me, will you? Margaret is so +clumsy." + +"I beg your pardon," he said, under his breath, as he bent down, +fulfilling his office.--"The exigencies of the piece must excuse me." + +"What a queer way of apologizing for running a pin into your wife!" +said his mother sharply. She might have been trusted to overhear. He +had straightened himself, and was withdrawing rather precipitately, +when his eyes fell on his own picture above the chimney-piece. "What +is that thing doing here?" he asked, off his guard. + +Lady Henrietta desisted from her pleased contemplation of Susan decked +out with jewels. + +"Well!" she said. "Of all things! Do you mean to say?--It has been +there ever since she came. I had it hung there myself to be company +for your heart-broken widow." + +"Anyhow, we'll have it down now," he said hastily. "You'd rather not +have the daub glaring at you, wouldn't you, Susan?" + +Lady Henrietta turned her back on him. + +"Don't mind him, my dear," she said. "We'll keep it." + +There was warmth in her tone. She squeezed the girl's arm, bidding her +remember that none of Barnaby's old flames could hold a candle to her. +Somehow or other he had fallen under her displeasure. + +"I'm afraid my acting doesn't come up to yours," he said, when they +were shut into the motor. "My mother thinks I am too undemonstrative +... that I am unworthy of my good luck." + +"Don't!" she said. + +He laid his hand comfortingly on hers. + +"Look here, little girl," he said. "It's no use taking things hard. +We have to make the best of it. It won't last for ever.... We must +look at the funny side of it. That's the bargain." + + +The swift drive through the night was already over. Three men, pushing +aside the servants, were slapping Barnaby on the back. They bore a +family likeness to each other, big men, with creased red necks, and +short, rumpled sandy hair. + +"Come along in," they cried heartily. "The house is full of old +friends wanting to get at you,--and nothing but odds and ends for +dinner." + +But one of them managed to lower his hearty voice a trifle.--"You won't +mind meeting Julia Kelly? She has asked herself for the night." + +"Who else?" said Barnaby, in his ordinary tones. + +"Kilgour and the Slaters and Rackham and the Duchess;--and a few more," +reeled off his host, thankfully dropping the awkward subject now he had +got out his warning. He rushed them into the house, and Susan was +bewildered by the tumult that greeted them, the sea of unknown faces. +Men and women alike were seizing on Barnaby and exclaiming. She hardly +realized that they were at the same time taking stock of her. The +three Drakes stood near her like a bodyguard, kind and stolid, settling +into their usual phlegmatic form; and she felt glad of them. + +"Getting on all right?" said Barnaby, as she passed him on her way in +to dinner, and she smiled back at him. + +He and she were not near each other; but once or twice he looked her +way, bending his head and slewing half round to catch a glimpse of her; +that--or else Lady Henrietta's stars, kept up her courage. She +listened politely, not understanding much, to the local gossip running +along the table. + +"Have you picked up any horses yet, Barnaby? Sims has one or two going +up on Saturday, at Leicester." + +"I can let you have a bay, a capital fencer----" + +"Oh, you don't palm off your roarers on me. I heard him to-day," said +Barnaby. + +"Well, I don't deny that he makes a noise----" + +"I suppose you think I've been in the wilds so long I don't know a +horse from a hedgehog!" said Barnaby. "Can anyone tell me what became +of a black mare I had four seasons ago?" + +"Do you mean Black Rose?" said Kilgour. + +"That's the one. Do you know who has her?" + +"I have," said Kilgour. "I took her from Peters. The fellow couldn't +ride her. You can have her back if you want her, Barnaby; she isn't up +to my weight. I remember you rode her at Croxton Park." + +"And won," said Barnaby. "Want her? Rather." + +Kilgour chuckled heavily. + +"She isn't as young as she was, mind," he said. "But she can go still. +I suppose you're not as keen as you used to be on breaking your neck?" + +"As keen as ever," said Barnaby, with conviction. + +"Does your wife ride?" + +The question sounded maladroit; it was inconceivable that Barnaby +should have married a wife who did not. His hesitation was singular in +their eyes; they all stopped to listen. + +"I really don't know," he said. + +In the general burst of laughter Susan caught his glance of amused +consternation. In that hard-riding company his ignorance was +incredible. Men, having a curious predilection towards the unsuitable +in wives, he might, after all, have committed that inconceivable piece +of folly. Barnaby's wife might lamentably turn out incapable of +sitting on a horse. But that Barnaby should not know--! + +It was while they were all laughing at him that Susan became aware of +Julia Kelly. + +She was on the same side of the table as herself, placed far from the +lion of the occasion; and was leaning her elbows on the table, looking +full at Susan. The man between them was sitting back in his chair +roaring helplessly at the joke. + +"What an ignorant husband, Mrs. Hill," said Julia, and her musical +voice vibrated through the laughter. "Do you ride?" + +"I have ridden," said Susan quietly. It was difficult for her to blot +the memory of an encounter that the other woman ignored. + +"But not with him?" + +Mrs. Drake, springing up, made diversion. + +"Why not have a steeplechase?" she cried. + +She was one of these little women, all skin and bone, who cannot bear +inaction, and whose wishes are carried out. + +"Cross country," she said, silencing a growl from her husband. "You +can ride the point-to-point course. We'll send round and tell +everybody, and get them all here by twelve. And we'll put grooms with +lanterns to mark the jumps." + +The men jumped up, enthusiastic. The idea was just mad enough to +appeal to their sporting instincts. In about three minutes the +dining-room was deserted, and five motors were humming into the +darkness to apprise and rally all who were reckless enough to join. In +a neighbourhood always ready for a frolic there was no danger of the +inspiration falling flat. + +Barnaby himself was in the thick of it, mapping out preliminaries with +the other men in the hall. The women clustered together, almost +hysterical with excitement. And Susan drifted apart from the +chattering circle, feeling outside it all. + +She heard a gruff voice in her ear, and started. The tall, gaunt, +hard-faced Duchess was standing over her. + +"How are you getting on?" she said. + +"It is a little strange to me," said Susan. + +"But you are not moping," said the Duchess. "I can see you are made of +better stuff. They are all mad, of course, but nobody will get hurt, +if that is what you are afraid of." + +Yes, that must be what she was afraid of, what inspired her with an +undefined wretchedness. If she had been what they thought her, surely +she would be feeling nervous. She was glad she had not made the +mistake of pretending to be gay. + +"I am an old friend of your husband's," said the Duchess, "--and he has +asked me to be kind to you. I shan't warn you to beware of Julia; all +the rest of them will, if they haven't already;--but I don't call that +kindness." + +"Barnaby asked you to be kind to me?" repeated Susan; she could not +keep the wistfulness out of her voice; she had been thinking herself so +utterly forgotten. + +"Yes. It isn't the fashion here for husbands to worry about their +wives, but he is a bit old-fashioned. I told him I'd come and talk to +the little fish out of water. It is just a strange pond, my dear, and +you'll soon begin swimming." + +The clash of voices grew more uproarious in the hall. A man put his +head in and vanished, looking for somebody. His brief appearance made +the contrast between the excitement out there and this empty room more +emphatic. + +"I must get out of this," said the Duchess, switching her train as she +rose from the sofa. "Kitty will have to lend me a habit and one of her +husband's coats. I shall ride. There's a brook jump where there'll be +trouble, and I want to see the fun. You had better drive with Kitty. +I'll see to it. Have you anything warm to put on?" + +Her caution was hardly equal to her good nature, and the clamour in the +hall hardly drowned her indignant voice as she seized on a confidant in +the doorway. + +"I like her pluck. She's terrified to death, of course, but she +doesn't look woe-begone. We must seem a pack of dangerous lunatics.... +Where do these Americans get their spirit?" + +"You don't read history, do you, Duchess?" + +"Why?" + +The man she had seized laughed shortly, amused at her bewildered face. + +"Oh," he said, "we English are frightfully cock-a-hoop over our +pedigrees. We don't remember it's they who are condescending to us. +There's bluer and better blood across the Atlantic than any of ours, +and it isn't smirched. They don't boast. They don't remind us of our +blotted scutcheons.--We to talk of race!" + +"What on earth do you mean, Kilgour?" said the Duchess. "Half of them +are Huns and Finns, and the scum of Europe." + +The big man was leaning against the door-post; his bantering tongue +took on a sudden heat. + +"A few," he said. "But the rest--! Scum, Duchess?--We're the dregs. +There's not one of our great families that isn't mixed with the blood +of traitors; that hasn't at one time or another sold its honour or +stained its sword. Scots and English, all that was best of us once, +are there, handing their valour down. After Culloden the country was +drained of its gentlemen. Why, you can still hear the Highland tongue +in South Carolina.... _They_ went into exile while we hugged our +estates and truckled to an usurper. And the soul of a country is the +soul of its heroes.... Oh, I believe in race!--Let the rest of us take +a pride in our tarnished titles and wonder at the fineness of strangers +who are descended from the men who lost all for the sake of honour and +loyalty to their King!" + +The Duchess dropped her blunt voice into a lower key. + +"Poor old Kilgour," she said. "You're thinking of that little brute +Tillinghame and his dollar princess." + +"Well!" he said, between his teeth. "You've only to look at them!--And +his people sneer at her for aspiring to bear an illustrious title that +began in dishonour, and has been dragged a few hundred years in the +mud--!" + +The Duchess moved away from the door; she had remembered Susan. + +"I wish you'd capture Barnaby and send him in to his wife," she said. +"He has forgotten that she exists.... I've had to make up a +message.... I couldn't stand the dumb wistfulness in her face. It's a +foolhardy business." + +"I've just sent for Black Rose," said Kilgour, in his ordinary tone. +"He was keen to ride her." He raised his voice. "--Here, Barnaby, +you're wanted!" + +But the messengers were returning already, and strange cars were +dashing up. The hubbub was at its height. It was impossible to win +Barnaby's attention. He turned his head impatiently as Kilgour made a +grab at him. + +"What is it now?" he said. "Oh, don't bother me, there's a good +fellow. They want to settle how--Jim, Jim, is that you? Have you +brought the horses?" + +He ran down the steps. + +A clatter of hoofs was audible in the darkness, and a groom, riding one +horse and leading another pulled up below the steps, steadying his +charges as they flung up their bewildered heads, blinking, kicking up +the gravel. + +"Ah, my beauty!" said Barnaby, in the voice of a lover. "Did you think +I was dead?" + +"Is that Black Rose?" called one of the men crowding to the door. +"Wasn't she sold?" + +"She was. But I'll have her back," he shouted up to them, rubbing the +mare's dark head. "To the half of my kingdom I'll buy her back!" + +The women, wrapped thickly, and disguised in furs, were streaming into +the hall. Julia Kelly, who had lingered to the last, and was not yet +ready, rushed down impulsively to his side. + +"Oh, Barnaby, is that Black Rose? Dear thing, is she there? Oh, +Barnaby--!" + +Her voice thrilled and sank; she stretched out her hand, patting the +mare's neck, rejoicing with him. + +"It's like old times, isn't it?" he said. + +The night wind ruffled his bare head, kissed a wisp of Julia's lace and +blew it against him. She might have been forgiven for thinking his +thick utterance was for her. The little scene, to all present who knew +their tale, was romantic. + +Kitty Drake looked over her shoulder in a funny, conscience-stricken +way; the Duchess was poking her in the back, and at the same time +interposing her rugged presence between romance and Susan. In a minute +the girl was shielded by an oddly-sympathizing bevy of women, fussing +over her in a transparent hurry to see that she was wrapped up warm. + +The stable clock behind the house was beginning to strike, and the men +who had been dining there had disappeared to change. Nobody was +measuring the length of that interview.... At last Barnaby came in +three steps at a time, a portmanteau in his arms. + +"I say, Kitty; where can I go and dress?" + +She looked at him severely over Susan's head. + +"Run in anywhere," she said, and he pursued his impetuous way upstairs. +Julia reappeared by herself, on her face what Kitty Drake stigmatized +as a maddening consciousness. + +"They say they are going to ride in their shirt-sleeves," she said, +"but that will hardly make them visible. It's nearly pitch dark +outside." + +"They are idiots," said Kitty Drake. "Fancy Gregory calling to us when +we were upstairs to know if we would lend them our night-dresses. I +told him I was too thrifty." + +"Why not?" said Julia. "Barnaby can have mine." + +A blank pause saluted her speech, and then, with one accord, the women +began to acclaim the notion as if it were the most ordinary thing in +the world. Even Kitty, in her haste to dissipate the impression that +Julia's declaration might make on the girl beside her, caught up the +idea and made it hers. She flew up and down arranging. + +"A bit mediaeval, isn't it?" said Kilgour, watching the riders as they +struggled with gossamer raiment that sometimes flopped over their heads +unassisted, and sometimes clung, entangling them in cobwebs.--"In the +days of knighthood we all wore bits of our ladies' clothing." + +The Duchess grumbled. + +"Pity we can't revive other habits," she said. "There was a useful +practice of wringing obnoxious people's necks." + +"Poor Julia," said Kilgour. "Don't grudge her her little triumph. She +only wants to publish it abroad that it was her own fault she was +forsaken." + +But the Duchess's brow was grim. + +The night was black and starless, and had been still. The villages +they passed gave back startled echoes, awakened out of sleep by the +rattling of the cavalcade. Susan was tucked in between Kitty Drake and +the Duchess, who intended to change to her horse when the race began, +and in the meantime was driving them at a smacking pace. She kept her +buggy at the head of the procession, and was the first to whisk round a +perilously sudden turning that led off the turnpike, and sent them +bumping into a field. + +In front of them stretched a dim line of country that had darkened into +strangeness, puzzling the most familiar eyes. Here and there were +flickering lights, like will-o'-the-wisps, luring and warning, +indicating danger. And the men were to ride there.... + +Susan stood up in the buggy, supported by Kitty's arm, straining her +eyes to watch the start. She could make out a little; by dint of hard +gazing she learnt to distinguish the figures that moved yonder. In the +middle of the field an indistinct line of riders were drawn up, waiting. + +A man shouted back to the watchers, and their prattle hushed. There +was an instant of absolute silence, suspended breath;--and then +somebody swung a lantern. + +"Go!" he cried. + +Leaping into the darkness the line of horses broke like a wave and +went, their limbs gleaming. Already they were blundering into the +first hedge, and there was a crash, relieved by laughter as the first +spill resulted in one man picking himself up unhurt. The rest were +swinging on; rising again, more warily, a little farther; and just +visible, for the last time, black objects against the sky. + +The Duchess set her foot in the stirrup and galloped off. Susan rocked +as she stood, and was nearly flung out as the buggy started forward, +and the whole cavalcade whirled blindly into a lane that was all ruts +and stones and turf. + +Strange what an unimagined wildness darkness and ignorance lent to that +plain strip of country. The fields that slanted were dreadful hills +sinking into unknown abysses, the brooks rushed like rivers, the hedges +lifted themselves gigantic. Many who had ridden over the ground by +daylight times without number exclaimed, and wished the night at an end. + +Kitty Drake, however, was screaming with delight. + +"Here they come!" she shrilled. "Oh, shut up, you people. You'll +scare the horses. I know it's awfully weird, but still--! That's +Dicky, of course. I'd know Nanny's frills anywhere; he looks like a +mad pierrot. Oh, and Colonel Birch, with Mrs. Uffington's chiffon +scarf tied on to him. Mrs. Uffington, it was base of you not to risk +it. My best garment is floating there, being torn to ribbons by +Gregory's spurs." + +"Sit down, Kitty!" cried somebody at her elbow. "You can't see +anything yet; it's all imagination." + +"I see it with my mind's eye," she declared; but subsided. + +A few men on horseback scampered out of the nothingness and drew up +beside them. This was the place to watch the riders jump the water. +They pressed close in a peering bunch, the cigars in their mouths +making red points in the gloom. The Duchess halted by the buggy, a +curious figure in Gregory Drake's greatcoat, with the sleeves turned up. + +"All right, so far," she said, in her gruff voice, cheerily. "They +have been signalling with the lanterns. Queer how the darkness seems +to swallow 'em up alive!" + +As she spoke they all heard a distant thudding. There was something +terrifying in this invisible approach; it seemed to promise +catastrophe. Surely some sudden end would come to that beating of +horses' hoofs--! Nearer and nearer the unseen racers came, until they +were almost on the top of the watching throng. Then there was a +glimpse of great beasts rising in the air. + +The first horse came down short of the landing-place, plunging into the +hidden water that ran beneath. His splash was followed by another as +the next man faltered and went in deep. Then a third went up. + +Someone had an acetylene motor lamp, and held it suddenly on high. It +made a vivid glare, illuminating that rider's face, his eyes staring +ahead, his mouth shut and smiling---- + +"Turn out that lamp. You'll dazzle 'em, you damned idiot!" yelled +Kilgour. "It isn't a pantomime!" + +The next horse had taken fright. There was stamping and swearing; and +then the blinding flare was extinguished, leaving the scene darker. +The faces that had shone pale and unearthly in that brief wave of +limelight could not longer be recognized. + +Susan shivered with excitement. That was Barnaby she had seen.... + +No woman was in his head just then; his spirit was intent on the +splendid peril of that night ride. Something in herself understood +him. She felt proud of him, reckless with him, afraid of nothing. But +he had landed and was away on the farther side. + +Now they were all in or over, and the water jump was deserted. The +last who had failed to clear it had struggled up the bank and swung +dripping into his saddle, feeling for his reins. They were laughing at +him because he had let go and tried to swim, not at first realizing +that it wasn't up to his knees.... + +But he had lost his head in the dark. + +There was time, if they hurried, to reach the hillside at the back of +the intervening dip, full of pitfalls, and gain a place of vantage to +witness what they might of the finish. Kilgour, who knew the country +blindfold, pushed on ahead, guiding them; and the rest trusted to his +instinct. He unlatched a gate, flinging it wide for the others to +scramble through, cut along close under the branching side of a +spinney, forded a water-course, and spun up a cart track; emerging +suddenly on the side of the hill. Behind him pressed a clattering, +jolting troop, that stopped dead as he threw up his arm and listened. + +The riders had to make a circuit, but they should be near. What was +the meaning of this long pause? of the utter silence? For the first +time the women betrayed a nervous thrill that was not pure excitement. +The waiting dashed their spirits. They tried to laugh, and their +laughter sounded strange. + +"There's bound to be some misfortune," muttered someone, as a night +bird croaked in the trees. And above the hush a woman's voice pealed, +hysterical, calling on heaven to witness that she had dissuaded +Billy---- + +"Hush!" + +The men who were judging talked in whispers as they sat quietly on +their horses, motionless, save for an occasional jingling bit, under +the clump of firs that was the winning-post. Their ears were on the +alert, but all the queer noises of the night were treacherously alike, +and that might be nothing but running water that seemed a distant +galloping. One man looked at his watch. + +"They're due," he said. "Bar accidents. Can't you hear 'em?" + +Then at last, clear in the distance, the gallop came. + +Far in that mysterious valley the lanterns twinkled, making the +darkness visible. Where the lights glimmered there was danger. + +"D'you see that?" said Kilgour in the ear of his neighbour. A spark +dipped suddenly.--"One man down." + +At the next jump another light went out. + +"A bit weird, these signals," said Kilgour's neighbour. "I don't like +'em; it's too infernally suggestive. Where are they now?" + +The watchers herded together, all standing up, all staring; trying to +pierce the gloom, as the unseen horses came thundering up the rise. +Singly they ran in. + +Susan was sure that Barnaby would win. She could not understand why +her heart beat so loud. + +"One--two--three--!" + +They were all frantically counting. Five men still up;--but not yet +near enough to distinguish faces. + +"If Barnaby isn't in the first three he's down." + +Who said that? She gave one shudder and was quite still. + +"Oh, God, don't let him be killed. Don't let him be killed!" she was +crying to herself. + +The fir trees spread their dark plumes overhead; in the boughs there +was a strange sighing.... If he was not in the first three, if he was +missing--her one friend in a land of strangers, lying there crushed and +lifeless in the dark:-- + +"Oh God--!" she cried under her breath. + +And then out of the blackness shot a headlong figure, cleaving it like +an arrow. That blur beneath was the final jump, the last hedge that +barred the way with its ragged line. And he charged it as if it were +not there, keeping on in his tremendous rush. + +"Barnaby!" they shouted. They knew his laugh before they could see his +face. + +"A near thing," he said, and pulled up the black mare, who turned her +head towards him as he dismounted, her eye-balls glistening in the +darkness with something like human pride. + +"You didn't steady her there," said Kilgour. + +"Steady her?--We had to come for all we were worth!" he said. + +The Duchess, striding afoot, made her way into the circle round him. +Barnaby was explaining how he had ridden into one of the +lantern-bearers, a silly fool who had turned his light and was standing +into the hedge; and how he had got off to make sure the poor devil +wasn't injured. He had had to ride after that like fury; no leisure to +grope his way.... + +"Since you are not smashed up," said the Duchess, shaking him by the +arm, "go and show yourself to your wife. You nearly frightened her to +death." + +She piloted him to the buggy, and stood by, with her unsentimental +countenance considerately averted. + +"I am so glad you won," said Susan. She spoke steadily, controlling +the traitorous catch in her throat. How was she to assure him that she +was not guilty of causing him to be dragged to her side? + +The man smiled at her stiff politeness. He was still hot, still +breathing a little hard, the spell of his ride still on him;--and +Julia's wisp of muslin was twisted round his neck. + +"I'm sorry you were scared," he said. "I'm rather in the habit of +doing ridiculous things like this. There wasn't much danger really ... +and I didn't think you would mind." + +His casual apology struck her like a blow. What right had she--? How +it must amuse him that she should affect to care. + +"I did not mind," she said proudly. "It was--funny." + +One of his friends was coming up with a coat to throw over him. The +men who had come to grief were straggling in, bruised and dirty, but +miraculously sound. Kitty Drake leaned over the wheel on the other +side, hailing them, calling to each man to ask if he was alive.... + +"Was it?" said Barnaby, and smiled. The glint in his eyes reminded her +of his face as the light flashed on him, dare-devil, reckless, down +there when he jumped the water. + +Perhaps the joke was a little too much for him. + +"You are not altogether a callous person," he said slowly. "I don't +believe you, Susan. You fainted when I came home...." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +"Dull?" said Lady Henrietta. + +The girl became aware of her with a start. + +Barnaby had just gone, and the house was quiet. Late as usual, he had +come clinking down in his spurs, and run out to his waiting horse; and +she had seen him off, but had not yet turned away from the door. Lady +Henrietta's uncommon earliness had surprised her. She did not know how +wistful her aspect was. + +"No," she said. "Oh no. I was only watching----" + +"To see the last of him," retorted Lady Henrietta smartly. "I know--I +know. One glimpse of him as he crosses the wooden bridge, and again a +peep before he cuts across by the willows. How dare you let him set +off day after day without you?" + +She paused. There was mischief in her eye, an unwonted touch of +excitement. One would have said she was plotting. + +"You are too lamb-like," she said. "I'll give you a horse. Tell him +you'll go hunting with him to-morrow." + +She laughed outright at the girl's look of consternation. + +"No," she said, "you wouldn't. My dear, you have got him, and you must +keep him. It's a woman's business to look after her husband, to throw +herself into his occupations, and rescue him from the ravening lions +that run up and down in the earth. Why didn't you back me up when I +attacked him last night, and he put me off with his nonsense about a +quiet pony? Why didn't you insist?" + +Susan flushed scarlet, remembering Lady Henrietta's unexpected +onslaught and Barnaby's good-humoured amazement; his vague promise of +giving her a riding lesson. He glanced at her mirthfully, and that +look of his had called up a hot disclaimer of any wish. Was it not in +their bargain that as far as possible they were not to haunt each other? + +"Since you are so meek," said Lady Henrietta, who did not miss her +confusion, "_I_ must put my finger in the pie." + +Her eyes were not young, but they were far-seeing; she turned from the +prospect at which Susan had been gazing, and laid authoritative fingers +on her sleeve. + +"Run upstairs," she said, "and get into your habit. I've told Margaret +to have it ready. It won't fit, probably, but you are not vain;--it's +borrowed. Don't stare at me, you baby! Rackham and I settled it the +night he dined here, while you and Barnaby were trying not to talk to +each other. I don't know whether you can ride or not, but you must +begin." + +She finished up with a chuckle. The sight of Susan's face--well, that +was enough for her. She had turned a more potent key than she knew. + +Two horses were pawing the gravel beside the door, and one of them had +a side-saddle on his back. She had seen them coming when she +despatched her daughter-in-law to dress. Rackham himself was waiting +on the steps. Lady Henrietta beckoned to him with the joy of a bad +child firing a train of powder. + +"I've told her," she said. "She'll be down in a minute. Take her once +or twice round the park, and if she doesn't fall off----" + +"She won't fall off," said Rackham. + +"You brought her a quiet horse?"--the conspirator was feeling a slight +compunction. + +Barnaby's cousin, his ancient rival, smiled under his moustache. "I'll +take good care of her, my aunt," he said. + +"You are an obliging demon, Rackham," she observed. "It was good of +you to give up your hunting." + +"They'll be at Ranksboro' about twelve," he said significantly. "If +you really wanted us to give Barnaby a surprise----" + +Lady Henrietta favoured him with an enlightening nod. Whether or no he +was bent on furthering her purposes, assuredly she might trust him. + +"Villain," she said. "You understand me; it's an experiment,--it's a +squib!" + +Twice Susan rode solemnly round the park. To her, remembering how, as +a child, she had ridden, cross-legged, bare-backed, anyhow, +anything--their solicitude was absurd. She swung her foot in the +stirrup, lifting a transfigured face. + +"_You_ are all right," said Rackham, glancing backwards towards the +distant windows. "I knew you could ride." + +He bent over in his saddle to unlatch the hand-gate that Barnaby had +ridden through before them, taking his short cut over the wooden bridge +by the willows. Keeping his horse back, he held it open. + +"Come out this way," he said. They went cantering up the lane. + +Dim and dark was the landscape, threatening rain, and the clouds were +sinking lower and lower, rubbing out the hills. A kind of expectation +hung in the air. A storm gathering perhaps. They rode up and up, +until the narrow green lane came to a sudden stop, and a break in the +high barriers of hawthorn let them on to a ridge that hung over a wide +sweep of valley. Underneath lay a fallow strip, reddish brown amidst +the green waves of pasture, and a party of rooks rose cawing above the +idle plough. + +Susan, her heart still dancing, laid a happy hand on her horse's +mane,--the willing horse that carried her so smoothly. + +"You like it?" said Rackham. + +There was a subtle difference between his guardianship and that of his +cousin. She missed that queer sense of security that she had with +Barnaby. Why, she knew not, but Rackham's neighbourhood troubled her. +She felt a nervous inclination to burst into hurried chatter. + +"It was awfully kind of Lady Henrietta to arrange it,--and of you," she +said; "though you were both afraid that I should disgrace you. Yes, +you were watching;--and she too: her mind misgave her when she saw me +in the saddle.--What is the matter with the horses?" + +"Look!" he said, smiling broadly. + +And immediately she guessed. Far on the right she distinguished a +flick of scarlet. + +"Oh!" she said, in an awed whisper, understanding. + +"That's one of the whips riding on," he explained; "they are going to +draw the spinney down there, just underneath. We're in for it, aren't +we?--Shall we stay where we are, and chance Barnaby's displeasure? +I'll open the gates for you, and give you a lead. Can you jump?" + +She laughed at him, carried out of herself, back in remote adventures +when there had been nothing she would not dare. Her blood was up, and +she felt her horse quivering beneath her. Hounds were in the spinney; +she had glimpses of dappled bodies ranging among the trees; at the +eastern side an interminable troop of riders were pouring into the +field. There seemed no limit to their numbers as they massed thicker +and thicker on the skirts of the cover till there was but the south +side clear. + +"Keep still!" said Rackham in a breath, and as he whispered a living +flash passed by. It vanished across the fallow, as a whistle shrilled +from below. One of the whips had seen him. + +"Steady!" said Rackham. "Hounds are coming out. He broke at that +bottom corner.--Now!" + +Her horse bounded away with his. She was close behind him as they +raced down the headland. The fence at the end was low; a thorn-crammed +ditch and a rotten rail. She took it, hardly knowing, but for her +horse's excitement, that she had jumped. He broke into a gallop then, +and she let him go. + +"Who's the lady out with Rackham?" called one man, waiting his turn at +a gap. The man ahead of him squeezed through before replying. + +"Don't know. She's chosen a damn reckless pilot!" + +But no man's recklessness could have beaten hers. She followed him +blindly; nothing daunted her, nothing dimmed the eagerness in her soul. +This was to live indeed. + +They were hard on the pack. She could hear them in front, could +sometimes catch a view of them flickering on. A great noise of +galloping filled the air behind, drumming hard; but she was still +keeping her lucky place in the van. She and Rackham.... + +There was something formidable ahead. She felt her horse faltering in +his stride, not afraid, but doubtful;--those that were close behind +were parting right and left; some of them were falling back. Without +turning her head she knew it. Recklessly she kept on. The others +might blench.... She would not. + +Up went her horse, and in mid-air she had time to ask herself what +would happen, to guess that it was touch and go. It seemed a great +while before they came down, with a jar and a stagger, galloping rather +wildly on. + +She was too excited still to feel tired, too ignorant of danger to know +what a wild line she was taking now. Just ahead of her Rackham had +disappeared with a crack of timber, and she must not be left behind. + +An ominous crash pursued her as she went through a stiff barrier of +thorns; a loose horse was flying past. She looked dizzily for Rackham, +wondering if it was his. It tried to clear the next fence riderless, +but was too unsteady, and swerving crosswise, nearly brought her down. +In the field beyond it was stopped by an oxer. Someone behind cracked +his whip.... + +"We've beaten the lot!" called Rackham; his voice came a little hoarse +in her ear. "Half of 'em funked that bullfinch, and there's one fellow +in the ditch----" + +She reeled in her saddle. + +"I've--no--breath left," she panted. + +"Pull up. Pull up!" said Rackham, and leaned over as she managed to +stop her horse. Her knees trembled and she held on a minute; she +thought she was going to fall off out of sheer fatigue. + +Hounds were baying on the other side of the hedge. They had got their +fox. People were coming up on all sides, in haste to mingle with the +few who had ridden straight. She was vaguely conscious of their +interested regard; she heard a general buzz of gossip. + +"There's Barnaby," said Rackham. He had dismounted, and stood by her +horse's shoulder, pretending to do something with a buckle, but in +reality waiting for her to recover. His arm was ready to catch her if +she should slide off; his wild eyes were fixed on her. + +"Don't forget it was with me, not with him, you rode your first run," +he said. The triumph in his whisper made her afraid. She felt like a +truant. + +What would Barnaby think of her? Would he be very angry? Had he +watched her riding, wondering who she was? She lifted her face, a +little proud, but troubled. All at once her glorious adventure wore +the look of an escapade. + +He had ridden up, but he was not looking at her at all. The set of his +mouth was hard. + +"I'll take charge of my wife," he said. + +How strange it sounded. Would she never get used to it? She had an +immediate sense of protection, of happiness out of all reason. But +what else could he call her, before the world? + +His cousin grinned at him brazenly. + +"If you haven't too much on your hands," he said darkly. "Oh, take +over your responsibilities if you like. You needn't fight me. It was +your mother's idea.... But she's tired. She mustn't stop out too +long." + +"It was a mad thing to do," said Barnaby curtly; "risking her life over +these fences--!" + +"Come, come," said Rackham, "don't paint me too black. I took the +greatest care of her. Didn't I?" + +"I was looking on," said Barnaby. + +He had turned to Susan at last, and she saw that his face was pale. +Something in him responded to her look of rapture dashed. + +"Poor little girl!" he said. "I didn't know--you cared about it--" +Then he smiled ruefully. "By Jove!" he said. "You gave me a fright. +I thought you'd get yourself killed a dozen times. And I had a bad +start. I couldn't get up to you. There, don't let's look as if we +were quarrelling, though under the circumstances,--do you think we +should?" + +She plucked up spirit to answer him in kind. "On the stage," she said, +"the audiences would expect it." + +"Well," he said, "we'll disappoint the audience.... You won your bet, +Kilgour; it is my wife. Wasn't it wicked of her?" + +She found herself trotting on at his side. Rackham had fallen back. +It was Barnaby who directed her, who rode at her right hand; and a +cheery crowd hemmed her in. + +At the head of the procession hounds were moving on. Occasionally the +authorities called a halt while they searched a patch of trees by the +wayside, or turned aside to examine a hollow tree. But these were not +serious diversions. Once, indeed, there was a whimper as the pack ran +scampering into a small plantation, and the huntsman went in to see +what it was, his scarlet glancing in the bare brown mist of larches. + +"I know what'll happen to us," grumbled Kilgour, as the verdict was +issued that it was empty. "We'll climb up on the top of Ranksboro' and +the heavens will open on us." + +The ranks closed up again as the pack tumbled back sadly into the road. +Kilgour was a true prophet; they were bent at last towards that +unfailing harbour. On they pushed, up hill and down, through a grey +village where the trees shut out the sky from the winding street, and +then slap in at a gate that let them on to the grass again. + +"Where are we?" asked Susan, as she was squeezed in the press through +the gate, finding elbow-room as her neighbours scattered on the other +side, spreading downward. + +"On the wild side of Ranksboro'," said Barnaby. "Stick to me if you +are thinking of getting lost. You'll see where you are when we reach +the top, and you can look down on the cover;--but that's at the other +side. Don't you remember the black look of it on the hillside, off the +Melton and Oakham road?" + +All were hurrying across the rough bottom, with its hillocks and furze +bushes, and patches of withered bracken; then, gathering in the narrow +bit that let them in under a fringe of trees, mounting upwards. On the +farther side of the summit they came out above a thick plantation; and +there they drew rein and waited, unsheltered, bare to the sky overhead. + +Down came the rain. + +"I wish I was dead," said a lank man behind Kilgour. "I wish I was +fighting a bye-election!" + +Those who were near huddled into the bristling hedge that might break +an east wind, but was useless against this downpour. A few slunk back +over the brow, and herded under the trees; the rest sat stubbornly on +their horses, humping their shoulders, their dripping faces set grimly +towards the cover below; hearkening to hounds. + +"Would you rather be pelted with words?" said Kilgour, ramming his hat +over his nose.--"Surely they trickle off you.... Jerusalem! we'll be +drowned." + +The lank man turned up his collar, feeling for a button. + +"Well, they are dry!" he said. + +"They don't give you rheumatism, I grant you," said a fat man beside +him; "but they aren't healthy. I don't care what a man's trade is, if +he can discourse about it, it's improbable he can do his job. And yet +we poor devils of politicians have to spin our brains into jaw----" + +"True," said Kilgour. "You don't trust a glib fellow to dig your +garden.... And yet you turn over your country to him." + +The fat man grunted. + +"_I_ never want to open my mouth again," he said. "I'm addressing six +meetings a week in my constituency, and nothing will go down with 'em +but ranting. Tell you what, Kilgour, we're going on wrong principles +altogether. What we want is Government by Minority. Just you get on a +platform and look down on their silly faces--! The fools are in the +majority in any walk of life; they swamp the sensible chaps, even +Solomon noticed that. And it's the fools we must please, because they +are many. We take their opinion; we let them settle things. The whole +system is upside down." + +"There's something in that," said Kilgour. "It always amuses me how +you vote-catchers despise a man who works with his head; and bow down +to your ignorant fetish the working man." + +There was a slight disturbance in the cover, but nothing came of it. +People shifted backwards and forwards; there was a smell of wet leather +and steaming horses. + +"Are you cold?" said Barnaby. + +Susan smiled. He was between her and the worst of it; the rain beat on +his upturned face as he sheltered her. She liked watching him ... she +was not unhappy. + +The lank man was trying to light a cigar. He glanced up between his +hollowed fingers, his eyes twinkling in a creased red face. + +"Our lives aren't worth living, Mrs. Barnaby," he said. "We are all +made so painfully aware of our inferior status. The tail wagging the +dog; that's what we have come to." + +The fat man followed his glance, and his disgusted expression gave way +to a friendly gleam. His puffy eyelids quivered. + +"Let us grumble," he said. "You see how the weather behaves to us when +we escape for a week-end from bondage. There isn't a bright spot +anywhere but one tale I heard lately in my division." + +The lank man tossed away his match; the cigar was drawing. + +"And what was that?" he said. + +"Well, it seems they got a Cabinet Minister down to rant against me," +said the fat man, chuckling. "He had made himself particularly +obnoxious to our militant sisters, and there were terrible hints as to +what the ladies were going to do about him. So a London paper +commissioned their blandest reporter to call on 'em, and incidentally +get at their intentions;--and he stuck a flower in his buttonhole and +tackled an engaging young suffragette, who confided in him the +tremendous secret. Swore him, of course, to silence----" + +"And the wretch betrayed her?" + +The politician grinned. + +"They were going to disguise themselves as men," he explained, "and +pervade the meeting in the likeness of divers of my rival's most +prominent supporters. _She_ was to make up as a well-known farmer who +happened to have lumbago;--leggin's, and corporation, and side-whiskers +gummed on tight." + +"Pity she let it out," said Kilgour. + +"Aha!" said the other man, "she was artless. Well the news got down to +'em somehow, just in time for the meeting, and they set a bodyguard +over anybody who looked suspicious. Couldn't keep out their principal +backers, or insult 'em by explaining, and hadn't time to +investigate.--And my rival got on his legs.--I'm told they were all +more or less in hysterics, each man glaring at his neighbour. And +these whiskers looked jolly unnatural in the artificial light. My +rival had got as far as to mention his 'right honourable friend who, at +great inconvenience'--when that old farmer started to blow his nose. +'Turn her out!' he screeched, and four men seized the astonished old +chap, and hoisted him, kicking and bellowing, to the door.... There +was a glorious row, I'm told. It practically broke up the meeting." + +"Ah," said Kilgour, "politics aren't always an arid waste." + +"No, occasionally there is rain in the desert. Are we ever going to +move. I'm soaking." + +In the dark heavens the clouds were frayed by glimmering streaks of +light. Barnaby moved impatiently, and beyond him Julia Kelly passed +by, changing her station. The girl who was sheltered by his shoulder +had forgotten that Julia must be there. She felt suddenly that she was +a stranger. + +How often must he and Julia have hunted together, how often they must +have ridden side by side, sharing the day's fortunes; whispering +contentedly to each other as he shielded her from the storm!--More +telling than speech had been Julia's half-sad, half-reproachful smile. + +"They've got him out!" cried Kilgour, spinning round and heading a mad +stampede. As the rest imitated him, Barnaby turned to Susan. "I'm not +going to let you out of my sight!" he said. + +Down the hill they raced. Hounds were flinging themselves across, +bursting louder and louder into cry, proclaiming that they were on his +line. And now nobody minded rain. + +For a little while Susan felt the magic of it again; the swing of the +gallop, the exhilaration of the jumps as they came; but all too soon +she flagged. They were hunting slower; hounds were not so sure of the +scent; they were slackening, losing faith. The huntsman went forward, +and the Master stopped the field. Then they went on again, running in +a string up the hedge. + +Barnaby turned his horse's head and let the crowd go by. He looked at +her significantly. How did he know that she could not keep on much +longer? + +"I'll take you home now," he said. + +"Oh, don't!" she cried. "I am so sorry.... Don't let me spoil your +day." + +He laughed. + +"I'll pick them up again later on," he said. "We must do the correct +thing, mustn't we? It would look bad if I let you go home alone.--Good +heavens, how tired you are! You can hardly sit on your horse." + + * * * * * + +Lady Henrietta, the mischief-maker, waited with equanimity for Barnaby +to come home. He had brought Susan back and gone off again on a fresh +horse, giving her no opportunity of a passage-at-arms with him. + +When he did return his coolness was disappointing. She waited until +she could contain herself no longer. + +"Why don't you ask after Susan?" she said at last. He looked up then. +His clothes had dried on him, he had changed lazily into slippers, and +was warming his shins at the fire. They had finished the day with a +clinking run. "She's not ill?" he said. + +"I put her to bed," said Lady Henrietta, "when she came in. The poor +child could hardly move.... I suppose you bullied her frightfully when +she turned up?" + +Barnaby went on stirring his tea and stretching himself to the blaze. + +"I told her to have a hot bath and a good long rest," he said, in a +grandmotherly tone. "What did you expect? Were you hoping that I +should beat her?" + +"I was hoping all kinds of things," said Lady Henrietta. + +"Such as--?" + +She lost all patience. What was the use of plotting if nothing she +could devise would rouse him? Anything would be more satisfactory than +that maddening smile of his. + +"Do you want to break the child's heart?" she cried. + +For a moment she fancied that he was startled; she could not see his +face so well, but the cup clattered in his hand. Then she discovered +that he was laughing at her. + +"Has Susan complained?" he said. + +"She?" said Lady Henrietta. "Oh, how little you understand her! +She'll never complain of you. All I hear I have to screw out of other +people. From what they tell me--! Oh, _she'll_ never complain, though +you and your Julia make yourselves a by-word!" + +She paused there, confident that there would be an outburst. Her +triumphant expectation was dashed; she was nearly struck dumb with +astonishment when she heard his voice. + +"It's a queer world, mother." + +This was indeed serious. He was not even angry;--and she had hoped to +make him furious. She scanned him anxiously, stricken with alarm. + +"You aren't well?" she said. + +"I'm a little bothered," he said. "Look here, mother; supposing--well, +supposing a man were horribly, irretrievably, fond of a woman,--and +would be a regular cur if he let her know;--would you condemn him for +building up a kind of rampart, playing with fire that he knew couldn't +burn him, to keep him from losing his head, and hurting the thing +he--the thing that was precious to him? Oh, damn it all, you can't +possibly understand." + +It was plain as a pikestaff. Lady Henrietta was justified of her +mischief-making. Something must be done. There was law and order in +any tactics that might vex the siren who was still robbing her of her +boy. Never in this world would there be peace between her and Julia. + +"If," she said, "you want me to believe that you married Susan to stick +her up like a ninepin between you and a woman who threw you over, who +can't bear us to imagine you are consoled----!" + +She broke off indignantly, but Barnaby would not quarrel. He got up +and laid his hand caressingly on her shoulder. + +"Don't excite yourself, mother," he said. "I was talking nonsense. So +are you.... If I were you I wouldn't meddle. It's more dangerous than +you know." + +Then he went away to change out of his hunting clothes, and she watched +his departure with a wistful exasperation, lying back on her sofa. + +"What a nuisance a heart is!" she said to herself. "He would have had +it out with me but for that." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +Susan was in the garden. + +There had been a frost in the night, and the bushes crackled; the late +winter sun was thawing it in the branches. Behind the cloudy glass in +the greenhouses were primulas and hyacinths, and all manner of scented +things, a bright blur against the panes; but she walked rather the +slippery paths in the lifeless garden. + +She tried to picture the blackened tufts tall spikes of blossom, and +the long line of rose trees, all muffled in dried fern, a bewildering +lane of sweetness. Imagination failed her. The blackbird that shot +out of the yew tree, screaming his sharp, sweet call; the little +wagtail running at a wise distance in the path behind;--they might +guess and remember what they would find in spring. She would be gone +then; she would have stepped off the stage. + +Foolishly she counted up the memories she would carry with her, looked +back at the great old house, so warm inside. Strange to think of the +time, so impossibly near, when Barnaby would release her, would tell +her that he had made his arrangements for her to slip out of this +fantastic life without scandal. + +Well, she had played up to him; she had never lifted a miserable face, +imploring him not to make her suffer so. + +Something was choking in her throat. She had not realized how utterly +she must pass out of his life until it struck her that she would never +see one of these English flowers. The garden became unbearable, +taunting her with its unknown mysteries, its hidden promise; and she +hurried down the weather-stained wooden steps into the park. + +There were rabbit tracks in the grass, and live things rustled in the +spinney. A mat of beech-leaves kept the primroses warm. She leant +wistfully over the rail, gazing down from the slatted bridge at the +water. It was rushing past, very deep. + +And then she found a snowdrop.... + +She heard the dogs scampering and looked up. + +"There you are," said Barnaby, putting his arm through hers in friendly +fashion. "--The servants, you know!" he reminded her in parenthesis, +jerking his head towards the distant windows. "Let's gratify 'em, poor +souls. They'll like to see us arm in arm." + +He threw a stick to the dogs, and they scurried down the bank to +retrieve it, but, missing it, found distraction in rummaging for a +water rat. Then he turned again to Susan. She had plucked the +snowdrop. That at least was given to her.... + +"You looked like that flower," he said, unexpectedly, "when I saw you +first." + +She answered him valiantly. + +"Was I so pale with fright?" + +"I wasn't thinking of that," he said; "but--the thing hasn't been so +difficult, has it, after all? I didn't ask too much of you? We have +been good comrades and all that, haven't we, Susan? You have never +wished----?" + +Wished it undone? She could not speak. It was over. He was going to +tell her that it was over. She thought of that far-off night of +amazement, of her panic-stricken impulse, of his hand on her shoulder +that had stopped her flight.... Ah, it had been worth it all. +Passionately she was glad of it. She had had so much. + +"No," she said, "I have never wished----" and, like him, she left the +words unfinished. + +And then, with the past close upon her, she forgot everything but him. +How she used to think of him, dream of him, dead, who had come to her +rescue! + +"Oh!" she cried softly, touching his rough tweed sleeve, "isn't it +wonderful that you are alive!" + +They stood a minute or two in silence, neither speaking, and then +Barnaby broke the spell. + +"Why did you wander down here in all that drenching grass?" he said. +"Your feet are wet." + +She began to laugh, helplessly, and almost against her will. + +"How like a man!" she said. "You all think it the direst calamity that +can happen. You remind me of Vernon Whitford, who, when the poor +heroine was despairing, was principally troubled because her boots were +damp." + +"I know," said Barnaby. "That's my mother's beloved book. She got me +to read it too. Some of it stumped me, but I remember that much. How +did it go?" his voice dropped. "'He clasped the visionary little feet, +to warm them on his breast.'" + +It hurt her to feel her cheek burning scarlet. There was no reason. +She hurried to defend herself from the wild fancies that might fill a +dangerous pause. + +"If," she said, and it was anger at herself that made her voice +unsteady, "I had thrown myself over this bridge into the river, you +would have cried out indignantly--'She'll catch cold!'" + +"I might," he said gravely. "We are material wretches. You must come +back with me and change your stockings." + +He marched her towards the house. One startled, serious look he gave +her, but his voice maintained the determined lightness with which it +was necessary to face the realities of their bargain. The funny side +of it was the only side that would bear looking at. + +"You're not impatient?" he said. "You like the hunting? and the life +over here? Can you stand it a little longer? We'll clear as soon as +we decently can, and think out the tragedy that shall part us." + +"Yes," she said; she was a little breathless. The windows yonder were +winking flame; it looked as if the house was on fire, but it was only +the setting sun.... + +"There's that horse my mother presented to you," he went on. "You will +have to keep him as a souvenir. Hang him round your neck in a locket, +what?" + +She could but laugh at his whimsical suggestion. + +"I'll keep nothing," she said. "An actress doesn't claim the stage +properties; her paper crown, her gilt goblet, her royal dresses. Not a +poor strolling actress like me, at least. Please, please--" her voice +shook a little. He must be made to understand so much, jest and +earnest. "Let me go out as you snuff a candle." + +"Will you?" he said. + +They had nearly reached the house; the glancing windows that had shone +afire in their eyes were dark. + +"I didn't come out to plan tragedies," said Barnaby. "I was sent to +fetch you. The Duchess is in there with my mother. There's the Hunt +Ball on in a day or two, and she wants us to dine and go with her +party. I think she has some notion of keeping her eye on you. She +thinks that I treat you badly." + +Susan hung back. + +"Must I go?" she said. + +"Of course," he said cheerily. "I'd never hear the last of it if I +went without you. And my mother is awfully keen on you eclipsing the +rest. She's sending in to the bank for all the family trinkets." + +"I wonder you are not afraid of my running away with them," she flung +at him recklessly. + +Barnaby laughed at her as one might at a foolish child. + +"Oh," he said. "I'll be there, mounting guard." + + * * * * * + +The Duchess was lodged in a ramshackle way over a shop. She was not +particular. After hiring all the stabling that was to be had in +Melton, she had packed herself into a few odd rooms, approached by a +dark entry and a narrow stair. It made her feel, she said, like an +eagle. + +But sometimes her hospitality outdid her accommodation. On the night +of the ball she had asked as many people as could be squeezed into her +dining-room; all intimate enough not to mind rubbing elbows; and dinner +was a scramble. + +"The youngest," she proposed, "shall sit with his back to the door, and +duck when the plates are handed in over his head.... Do be careful. I +put a little man there last year, but when the door opened he used to +chuck up his head like a horse, and smashed no end of china." + +Having settled this, she threw up a window and rang a bell violently up +and down. + +"That is for dinner," she said. "It has to be cooked outside, and my +people dawdle so. Would you believe it, I was ten minutes ringing for +my maid when I came in from hunting. She lodges a few doors higher up, +and I had quite a crowd in the street." + +"I remember," said Kilgour, "last time I dined with you, one or two +bets were laid as to what was happening to the soup in the street +below." + +"Accidents do happen," she acknowledged. "It isn't quite true, +however, that I stuck out my head once and caught them scooping up the +sauce." + +Susan, wedged in a corner between Kilgour and another equally massive +person, was puzzled by the face of a woman opposite, who was smiling at +her. + +"Don't you know me?" said she. "I recognized you by the dress you have +on. I am Melisande." + +She noticed the girl's bewildered look at her yellow hair. + +"I keep a black transformation for the shop," she said. "My own idea. +But didn't you know my nose? How dear of you to forget it. People +call it my trade mark, and say it's Jewish. The worst is, I haven't +really shut up shop. I have a young hedgehog to chaperon here +to-night. Oh, I am perfectly unashamed!--She is all prickles, but +worth a great deal of money. I really couldn't bring her down with me, +so she is coming by herself in a special train, or some such +extravagance. I thought she might do for Rackham." + +"What?" said Barnaby. "Aren't you rather hard on my cousin?" + +"It is because he is your cousin," said Melisande, "I am offering him +the hedgehog. Have you ever considered what your reappearance meant to +him? Don't we all know how hard up he is, and what a boon your +inheritance would have been? If I don't step in with my benefaction +he'll possibly murder you." + +"Scarcely!" said Barnaby. + +"Let me see," said Melisande. "Give me your hand." + +But he would not. + +"You will frighten my wife," he said. + +"Give me the glass he was drinking out of," said Melisande. Barnaby's +neighbour pushed it over to her, and she peered into it with alarming +gravity. Silence waited on her prediction. She raised the glass, +swung it round thrice, and spilt a little water. + +"I've thrown out a misfortune," she said. "A terrible misfortune," and +looked round for applause. + +"I am eternally obliged to you," said Barnaby. "Thanks!" But she +would not give up his glass. + +"There are strange things here," she said, clasping her hands, and +gazing into it with half-shut eyes. Barnaby reached over and captured +the glass. + +"We don't want her to reveal all our secrets, do we, Susan?" he said, +and saved the situation by drinking the secrets down. + +His presence of mind turned the laugh against Melisande, whose +expression was a study. Ignoring public ridicule, she affected to +meditate on his disturbing action. + +"I wish I could remember what that portends," she said solemnly. "I +rather think it was fatal." + +But Barnaby refused to be overawed. He was in a mood of tearing gaiety +that Susan did not quite understand. She herself, although she knew +that it was absurd, had had a superstitious fear of that glass of +water.... + +"Let's go on to the ball," said the Duchess. + +In the general confusion the girl found herself on the stairs with +Melisande, still ruffled. Somehow their glances met. + +"Barnaby would turn anything into a joke. He was always like that," +said she. "He hasn't any sense of decorum." + +"--And you witches," remarked Kilgour, who was close behind, "haven't a +sense of humour." + +The sorceress pursed her lips. + +"Was there anything--bad?" asked Susan. + +She was ashamed of the foolish impulse that made her ask. Melisande +looked at her indulgently. But her disclaimer was too hasty to be +convincing. In a way, it was more disquieting than if she had +overwhelmed the sinner's wife with evil prognostications. + +"There was nothing in it. Nothing!" she said, but her voice lacked +conviction. + +"That's right. Don't frighten us," said Kilgour. + +Susan was not frightened. But she could not shake off an unaccountable +nervousness;--could not forget Melisande's wild sayings.... Why was +she afraid of Rackham? + +It was odd that as soon as they came into the ballroom her eyes should +light on him. Everybody was arriving at once, jammed in under the +gallery;--and Rackham was pushing through the crowd to her side, and +she could not fly. + +"What is the matter?" said Barnaby. "Why, you're trembling?" + +The truth came out before she could stop herself, though she could not +explain it. + +"I am shy," she said. "--And I don't want to dance with your cousin." + +He did not scoff at her. He took her programme and scribbled his name +across it. + +"See," he said. "Whatever he asks you for, say you're dancing it with +me. How will that do? Fill it in with any of the others, of course, +just as you like; and let me know what I am booked for later." + +He moved on in the swaying throng, distracted by somebody signalling to +him, hailed on all sides, nodding to his friends. Other men were +surrounding Susan. She could smile at them now, although Rackham was +at her side. + +"They're just finishing number one," he said. "Will you give me number +two?" + +"I am dancing it with my husband." + +"Number three, then?" + +"I am dancing it with my husband." + +Another claimed her attention; she gave him a dance quickly. Kilgour, +who could not get near her, held up five fingers to her above the +bobbing heads in the crowd. She counted them gaily, putting down the +number. + +Rackham was still at her side, insisting, but her answer was the same. +He looked at her queerly. + +"You seem to be dancing everything, more or less, with your husband." + +Kitty Drake, floating in like a smoke wreath, put in her word. + +"A husband," she said sapiently, "is the only possible partner for a +frock like hers. _I_ always come to the Melton Ball in rags." + +But when Rackham had departed, she looked curiously at Susan. + +"You were rude to him," she whispered. "Was it the frock, or what? I +am safe." + +"I don't know," said Susan. "It is very unreasonable of me, but--I am +always a little frightened when he is near me." + +Kitty seemed to think that she understood. + +"Reason?" she said. "My good girl, I've known more women wrecked +because they were ashamed to give in to their frightened instincts than +I dare remember. Don't begin to reason! It's simply a machine for +making mistakes; it never mends them. Go and be happy. Go and dance +with your husband!" + +Barnaby had come to her, and there was pity as well as liking in +Kitty's little push. + +"Shall we begin?" he said, and his arm went round her as she swung out +with him on to the shining floor. Dimly she was aware of music, of +lights and people; an atmosphere of enchantment. + +"Tired?" he said, pausing. + +"Tired? Oh, no," she panted, as if he had asked her the strangest +question. + +"I didn't know you could ride," he said, "and I didn't know you danced. +I really know very little about you, Susan." + +They had stopped a minute near a ring of idlers who had drifted on to +the floor, and somebody caught up his words. + +"Have you never danced with her before, Barnaby?" + +"No," he said, and bent to gather her train himself, that the weight of +it should not tire her arm. + +"Do you hear that?" chuckled the man behind them. "Never rode with +her, never danced with her. What on earth did he find to do?" + +"Made love to her, of course." + +Susan felt his arm tighten round her as they whirled into the dizzy +spaces. + +"I've never made love to you, have I, Susan?" + +He was breathing quicker; her cheek almost touched his as he bent his +head; her pulses were beating in tune with his. In a sudden faintness +she shut her eyes. + +And then the music crashed into silence and she was leaning against a +pillar, stupidly watching the brilliant scene. There was a great buzz +of talking under the gallery, and Barnaby was turning to his friends. +She heard his voice now and then amidst the babel, but it was Kilgour +and Gregory Drake who were trying to amuse her, picking out the +celebrities, good and wicked, in that assembly of glittering dresses +and scarlet coats. + +"You'll notice," Kilgour was saying, "it's the older men who are +dancing, and the young 'uns are looking on. They've no stamina, the +lads! Do you see that woman like a tub, with hungry eyes?--She was a +beauty once, but when her admirers began to slink off she went in for +spirits--that awfully unpleasant kind that you can't absorb. She's +always calling 'em up and setting 'em on to tell tales about her +dearest friends." + +"Yes," said Gregory, "it's really more unhealthy to offend her now than +when she was an anarchist and used to spring little clicking machines +on you and offered to explain how they worked. She got into hot water +once, while it lasted, making herself a side-show at a bazaar. Some +foreign personage was attending, and a rumour started that she meant to +wind up her clock in earnest. It emptied the hall like winking. The +Board of Charitables were no end annoyed." + +"They say her fellow anarchists begged her to take her name off their +books. Said she brought 'em into contempt." + +"That wasn't why," said Gregory. "It was because she would bring Toby, +her mastiff, to all their meetings. He and Biff, the thing she carried +in her muff, used to scare 'em out of their lives." + +"Look at that shop window!" said Kilgour, as another woman, smothered +in diamonds, canted past. + +"American, isn't she?--Cummerbatch married her for her money, and of +course they're wretched. It never pays----" + +Susan was conscious that the speaker had checked himself, in his face a +ludicrous awkwardness. Had the world jumped to a similar conclusion +about her and Barnaby? Instinctively she turned her head. She wanted +to share the joke with him, to see his delighted appreciation;--but he +was not near. + +And he did not dance with her any more. The night dragged on, and one +man after another bent his sleek head and offered her his arm. All +Barnaby's friends were rallying to her flag. Still, in its turn, would +come a star in her card, a dance that found her waiting for a partner +who did not come. + +After one of these blanks she came face to face with him in the +Lancers. He was romping as violently as the rest, charging down the +room;--and as the chain of dancers burst it was his arm that kept her +from falling into a bank of pale tulips against the wall. + +"Wasn't the last dance ours?" he said. "I'm awfully sorry:--but you +are getting on all right, aren't you? Plenty of substitutes? I've +been watching them buzzing round you." + +She smiled at him bravely. How like life this dancing was ... meeting +and parting, and strange companions.... For the first and last time +she was linking arms with Julia. + +Later on she saw Rackham on his way to her. It was almost the first +time that evening that she was unsurrounded. She had felt him watching +her; awaiting his time to swoop. Barnaby had not been visible during +the last two dances, and this, alas! was one that was glorified with a +star. + +"Yes," said Rackham, before she could speak, "I know;--you are dancing +it with your husband." + +There was no anger in his voice; only a kind of sardonic amusement, as +if he could afford to forgive her for that rebuff. She looked vainly +for Barnaby. + +"As a matter of fact," said Rackham coolly, "he has delegated his +privilege to me." + +"I am tired," she said. It was true; very tired and forsaken. + +"Then we'll sit it out," said Rackham, no whit abashed. He carried his +point over her weariness; she wondered dully why she had been afraid of +him, and she was too sad to struggle. She let him take her up the +stairs into the far corner of the gallery, now deserted, and sat with +her arms on the rail, gazing absently on the flitting brightness that +mocked her wistful mood below. + +All at once she started. Her wandering thoughts were fixed. + +"What are you saying to me?" she cried. + +Rackham was very near her, his head bent, his voice low and passionate +in her ears. + +"What I have always wanted to say to you," he said. "You guessed it, +didn't you? You were a little afraid of me;--just a little. You've +been trying to put it off.... But don't you remember the first time we +met--and that afternoon down by the spinney, when I told you I was your +friend?" + +She began to shiver. His hand, shutting the idle fan, was imprisoning +hers as it clenched itself on her knee. + +"I was not listening to you!" she cried desperately. "I was not +thinking of you. How dare you?" + +"What were you thinking of then?" said Rackham. "Not of Barnaby, who +has gone back to his first love and forgotten that you exist." + +"He sent you to me," she said piteously. + +"Oh, that was a lie," said Rackham. "He didn't even trouble as much as +that." + +She had sprung to her feet and her face was as white as ashes. For how +long had this man been telling her that he loved her? She had been +deaf to him, had caught his words without understanding their import, +murmuring "Yes" to him, while her eyes and her heart were searching for +one figure to pass in the dizzy scene below. + +"You are mad," she said. + +"Mad if you like," said Rackham. "After all, I am Barnaby's cousin, +and it's probably in our blood. Look at him, still crazed over a woman +who jilted him years ago!" + +She flung up her head, compelled by a piteous instinct to play her part. + +"And I am Barnaby's wife," she said bravely. + +He looked at her fixedly, making no motion to let her pass him. + +"Are you?" he said. + +The band seemed to burst into clamour and die away; but they were all +dancing; there must be music still, although she could not hear +anything but these two syllables. She kept her eyes steady. Perhaps +he did not grasp the significance of his words. + +"You have insulted me enough," she said to him slowly. + +A wild eagerness lighted his face. + +"I'm not insulting you," he said. "I leave that to him.... I'm asking +you to be my wife, Susan. Let him go. Let him release himself. Leave +him to the woman from whom you can't keep him.--Come away with me,--and +marry me!" + +"I--cannot," she said. + +He had to fall back then and let her go. But he followed her down the +stairs. The light in his eyes flickered out, leaving a sullen +admiration. + +"Well," he said, "I warn you. I've a bit of a score to settle with +Barnaby." + +She turned on him. She had reached the bottom; her foot was on the +crimson carpet that lay under the gallery; a little way off a handful +of men were talking with their backs turned, hilarious at the climax of +a sporting tale. She looked at the dark face above her; her lips were +white now, her eyes were blazing. "Are you threatening--him?" she +cried, and the devil in Rackham smiled. + +She took a few rash steps, hardly knowing in what direction. + +"You needn't look for him here," said Rackham bitterly. "Don't let his +friends think you jealous." + +From where she stood she could see in at the open doorway of one of the +sitting-out rooms, a dim, mysterious haunt of palms, the chairs drawn +back in the shadow. Was not that Barnaby and a woman in a glittering +green dress, listening with her face uplifted--? + +Ah, what right had she to run to him?--One of the men standing about +under the gallery had looked round. She heard him mutter it was a +shame. What was a shame? Not anything that could be spoken or done to +her.... She threw up her head, walking straight on as if she were +walking in her sleep. The Duchess and Kitty Drake were together +half-way up the room; they moved down to meet her, exchanging looks. + +"My dear," said the Duchess solemnly, "you look fatigued." + +"I am tired," she said. + +"I thought so. Fagged out. You have danced too much. Major Willes--" + +She called a man to her side and sent him on an immediate errand. When +he was gone she returned to Susan. + +"I've sent somebody to fetch your husband," she said. "He ought to +take more care of you. I shall scold him." + +"Oh, don't!" she cried faintly, but her champions took no notice; and +soon Barnaby himself came swinging along the room. + +"Barnaby," said the Duchess, "you ought to be ashamed of yourself. +Take your wife up to supper." + +The first rush was over upstairs in the supper-room, and Barnaby found +a corner. She sat with him at a little round table behind a tall plant +that shut off the world with its wide green fronds, some sheltering +exotic. And he was pouring out champagne, a drink she hated. She put +her hand over the top of the glass, and he caught it and lifted it off, +holding it in his while he poured on unchecked. + +"It's not good stuff,--but it's good for you. Drink!" he said. + +He seemed to be laughing at her from an immeasurable distance; his +prescription had made her dizzy. + +"It will go off in a minute; you wanted it badly," he was saying, in a +voice that sounded far away and unlike his own. + +"It has gone to my head," she said, appealing to him. "I'm afraid I +shall say something silly. Don't let me. Don't let me talk....'" + +"Why not? There is nobody listening," he was saying, encouraging her; +amused. + +And Susan heard her own voice. Her head was spinning; she was talking +against her will. + +"Why did you never come back and dance with me?" she was asking. It +seemed to her that there was a long pause, and then his answer came, +low and close. + +"I did not dare," he said. + +"Oh," she said piteously;--no, not she, but the imprudent, tired girl +whose head was giddy, and who did not know what she said. "Oh,--how +funny!" + +Perhaps he was throwing dust in people's eyes,--trying to blind them to +his fluttering, like a burnt moth, round Julia. If they saw him +sitting up here in a corner with her, and she was happy, they would +think there was nothing in it. He must be trying to make her laugh. +Well, she must help him. She could say something funny too. + +"There's a man downstairs," she told him, "who asked me to marry him." + +"What?" said Barnaby. He started as if he had been shot. + +"He said he loved me," she repeated. "He wished me to go away and +release you and marry him." + +"Who?" + +"You were with the only woman you ever cared for. That was what he +said. I had nobody to keep him away from me...." + +"Oh, I was with the woman I cared for, was I?" he said. "And who the +devil is it wants horsewhipping when I get at him?" + +The deadly calm in his voice arrested her. What had she said to him, +babbling in her unhappiness? Alarm steadied her; the dizziness was +passing. + +"I will not tell you," she said, forgetting how vainly she had looked +for him to shield her. + +His eyes were blue as steel. She had never seen him angry until +to-night. + +"I'll make you," he said. + +They stared at each other a minute, her eyes as unflinching as his were +hard. Across the silly little supper table with its glass and silver, +its green, gold-tipped bottles, and its tumbled flowers, he leaned and +gripped her hands. + +"Did you tell him you are not my wife?" he said. + +There was a whiff of scent in their neighbourhood; the great green +fronds spreading behind him were rudely stirred. A passing couple must +have brushed against that screen on their way to the stairs. A burst +of merriment came from the upper end of the room. But these two were +as much alone as if it had been a desert. + +So that was why he was angry. He believed that she had broken faith.... + +"I told him nothing," she said. + +Barnaby took a long breath. She felt his grip relax. + +"You are a good girl," he said. "You wouldn't break your promise. I +suppose I've no right to order you:--I'll find him out for myself. +Tell me one thing, and we'll let it go--" + +She waited. There had been something very bitter to her in his relief. +All he asked of her was to keep the secret until he was tired of the +joke.... + +"Susan," he said. "Did you want to tell him?" + +What did that matter to him? Supposing she had--wanted? Supposing she +would have given worlds to exchange her difficult post for one so +different, so secure?--Her cheek burned. + +"I would sooner have died," she said. + + * * * * * + +Rackham stood under the gallery in a black mood, watching the Duchess +send her messenger to hunt out the missing husband. He saw Julia, +bereft of her cavalier, pausing uncertainly; and a satiric impulse +moved him to join her. + +"Come and have supper with me," he said. + +"I am engaged to Barnaby," she said, a little defiantly. + +"They've sent him up with his wife," he retorted, and his mocking tone +seemed to please her. She submitted and pressed his arm. + +"Poor Barnaby!" she said. "It's an awful muddle." + +She was looking very lovely and pathetic. The man who had once been +entangled a little way in her toils himself and, having failed to +succumb, was naturally inclined to despise her, admired her pose. It +was hardly to be wondered at if Barnaby, who had been mad about her +once, should be incapable of resisting the allurement of these dark +eyes, so deep and so reproachful. He could not help speculating how +far she was in earnest, and how far a hurt vanity inspired her. +Curiosity piqued him. + +"I understand," he said gravely, as they passed out and began to climb +to the supper-room. It amused him to feel that her confidential +attitude, her claim on his sympathy, was a subtle intimation that he +had been the unlucky cause of the fatal misunderstanding, and must +therefore be kind to her. All at once he had a perverse inclination to +cast himself in the scale again. Why not? It would be a bitter joke +on Barnaby, and it suited his savage humour. + +"I like your dress," he said. His change of tone surprised her. She +glanced at him swiftly, half-turning as she mounted, her green garments +rippling as she lifted her train on one smooth arm, displaying a whirl +of skirts and one little green sequin slipper. "Ah," she said, "down +below they've been reviling me for a mermaid, and complaining bitterly +of my tail." + +"And so," said Rackham, "the little slipper is betrayed, to dispel the +illusion?" + +"Perhaps," said Julia. She used, at one time, to smile up in his face +like that.... A vindictive sense of his power possessed him, +flattering him on this night of defeat. In his heart he was still +fiercely worshipping the pale girl who had flouted him, clinging +obstinately--Oh, she was a fool, and so was Barnaby;--and the irony of +it was that he had only to lift his finger--! + +"We'll find a place by ourselves," he said, confidentially, passing +into the room. Inside it he took a step or two, glancing about him. +There were vacant seats on the right, but the tables had a battered +air. Farther down, perhaps--; yes, farther down, near the wall. He +turned back to look for his partner, and the sight of her face amazed +him. With a promptitude that surprised himself he pulled her back, and +got her outside the room. Was it possible that he had been mistaken in +her, or could a woman push affectation as far as that? + +She broke into a kind of gasping exclamation that was not intelligible +at first, and he stared at her in limitless amazement. + +"Oh, poor Barnaby, oh, poor Barnaby!" she repeated. There was a ring +of triumph in her incoherent voice. She had gone mad, he fancied. + +"Hush!" he said. "They'll hear you." + +He was glad he had shut that door, and thankful there was not a soul on +the stairs. + +"I was right!" she said, "I was right.... I knew it! You were there +when she came here first as his widow, and I told his mother to her +face it was a wicked plot!" + +"Julia," said Rackham, "you don't know what you are saying." + +She controlled herself a little. He held her wrist. + +"Didn't you see them in there?" she asked. "Didn't you hear him?" + +"If you mean Barnaby," he said, "I was looking out for our places. I +didn't notice whereabouts they were till you clutched at me. They +didn't see us at all." + +"I heard him," she said, in the same wild key of triumph. "I heard his +own words.--He said she was not his wife." + +"Hush!" said Rackham vehemently, and then, more slowly--"Julia, are you +sure of that?" + +She tried to imitate him, to whisper, but she was too excited. + +"Sure!" she said, laughing hysterically. "I know his voice so well. +There was a green plant between us----" + +"Wait," said Rackham. "There's somebody coming. We'll go down. Damn! +there are people everywhere--! Get a shawl, and we'll go out into the +street." + +Julia resisted him. + +"Why are you dragging me away?" she rebelled. "You can't keep me +quiet. Think how I've been treated! I could scream it to all the +world!" + +A woman could not have silenced her, but her emotional nature yielded +finally to the rough coaxing of a man. He almost swung her downstairs +into the draughty passage and, raiding the ladies' cloakroom, snatched +up the first wrap that lay to his hand. + +A chill wind blew up the steps, but there was still a persistent crew +of gazers loitering in the street below. Rackham led her past, and +they strolled a little way into the darkness, lighted at intervals by a +twinkling lamp. There was no danger there of her making scenes. + +"Now," he said. "Now, Julia--!" + +"They shall all hear the truth!" she cried. She hung on his arm, +gesticulating. + +"You wouldn't betray him?" said Rackham, sounding her. + +"Him?" she said. "Poor Barnaby! He and I are the victims. Don't you +understand yet? When she thought he was dead his mother--just to crush +me, just to humble me in the dust!--hired this creature. Don't you +remember how she sprung her on us? Who had heard of a marriage? Oh, +it was a judgment on her when he came home!" + +"She'd hardly look at the case in that light," he said. But Julia was +impervious to irony. + +"He should have considered me first," she said. "Why do men always +sacrifice the one they love best? It's a kind of cruel unselfishness. +I was his dearest, a part of himself, and so--and so I'm to bear this +trial--! But he might have trusted _me_!" + +She was either laughing or sobbing, he was not sure which; the cloak +that muffled her hid her face; but her voice raged on, half furious, +half triumphant. + +"Of course, she's blackmailing him," she said. "That wretch has got +him in the hollow of her hand! If he disowned her it would all come +out, and it would disgrace his mother. He was always quixotic. And so +he is temporizing till he can bribe her to disappear. But Lady +Henrietta has no claim on my forbearance!" + +She had to pause for breath, and he managed to get in his word. + +"I am going to advise you," he said, "to keep quiet over this." + +They had come to the end of the street, and were walking back. A +dazzle of lights in the distance marked the Corn Exchange. A motor +whirred past, its lamps sending a brief glare that was like a +searchlight. Already a few were leaving. + +"Why?" she said, staring at him. + +"You'll be a fool if you talk," he said. "If Barnaby is holding his +tongue for his mother's sake, is it likely he'll give way? And you +have no proofs. Whatever you say, he'll deny it. He mightn't forgive +you, either. Be sensible.... Wait a bit, and I'll make inquiries." + +It struck her then as odd that he had accepted her words himself, +without argument, with no incredulous opposition, such as she was +beginning to realize must fall to her lot if she published her tale +abroad. + +"Did you know from the first?" she cried. + +"No," said Rackham, "I didn't know. But I guessed." + +They had nearly reached the steps, and he slackened, regarding her +narrowly; but already she was subdued. It was characteristic of her +that she had never seen his admiration for the impostor. Vast as her +imagination was, it was blinded by centring on herself. + +"And you'll help me? You are on my side?" she said. + +He knew then that he had prevailed. + +"As long as you are wise," he said. They went up the steps together. + +"I had better find my party," she said hurriedly. "I want to go home. +Poor Barnaby!--I can't bear to meet him. I am too agitated." + + +Rackham took back the borrowed cloak and strolled along the passage, in +no hurry to return to the ballroom. People were passing in and out; +some of them were saying good-night, and one pair were wrangling on +their way to the door. + +"Who was the man you were flirting with in the street?" said the lover +in an angry stutter. The lady scoffed. + +"What a story!" + +"My brother saw you go out. He came up and chaffed me." + +"Your brother is a donkey. It must have been someone else." + +"I tell you he recognized you by that chiffon fal-lal you wear!" + +Rackham stood on one side. Let them fight it out.... Then his mouth +hardened. What was he going to do? He had managed to prevent Julia +from spoiling it all, and as long as he could keep her quiet the cards +were in his hands. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +"I won't let you go home," said the Duchess. "Barnaby can do as he +likes, but you're too tired to mind sleeping in a cupboard." + +She held Susan firmly by the arm as she spoke; she had motives. +Barnaby deserved to be punished; his conduct with Julia had really been +scandalous. But a worn-out girl, a wisp of white satin, was no match +for a naughty husband. She would burst into tears and forgive him. +Let Barnaby go home by himself, feeling guilty, and brood upon his +unkindness. _She_ would tell Susan what to do to him in the morning. + +With rough kindness she hustled the girl away with her, and having +collected her party, ordered them to bed. + +"Because," she said, "until some of you are disposed of I can't tell +what to do with the others, and I want to know if there are beds enough +to go round." + +Susan was the first to be bundled into her attic, and lay wearily +listening to a far-off commotion. When at last the household had +settled down there was a fresh disturbance, and the elder of the two +foreign maids mounted, carrying an armful of pillows. + +The Duchess herself followed, to excuse the indicated invasion. She +was already in her dressing-gown. The maid set up a chair bed that had +stood, doubled up, in the corner, and was sent out of the room for a +minute. + +"I've come to apologize," said the Duchess, "for pitchforking a +stranger into your room like this; but I'm sorry for the woman. You +are the only one of them I can depend on not to be horrid to her." + +She looked round, measuring the space that was to be shared. "I hope," +she said, "you won't bump into each other. The truth is, I have a +shocking custom of sticking my head out of the window when something is +going on outside; and just as I was getting into bed I heard a +tremendous buzzing. Everybody must have started. If this was +somebody's motor gone wrong, I supposed I ought to offer my +hospitality. And it was. The chauffeur was grovelling; a man I knew +was storming at him; and a woman wringing her hands on the pavement. I +knew her too, perfectly, and she had no business in that man's car." + +She stopped to listen. + +"I am not," she said, "a universal mender. If people I don't +particularly care about are jumping out of frying-pans, I don't preach +at them eternal fire. But this fool of a woman had chosen to bolt +under my very nose. Providence had cast her upon my doorstep. So I +took the hint. Not being a heathen I really had to." + +The confidential maid was ascending with someone strange to the place, +who stumbled and chattered in halting French. + +"I poked my head farther out," said the Duchess, "and shouted--'Is that +you, Lady Cummerbatch? Have you had a breakdown?' and it was worth it +to see her jump. I don't in the least know what she answered; it +sounded hysterical. 'Well,' I said, 'leave your husband to tinker up +the machine; it will probably take him hours. I can put you up.'" + +"Her husband?" said Susan, puzzled. + +"Tact, my child, tact! I sent Fifine down to fetch her, and kept my +eye on him. She followed Fifine into the house like a lamb." + +She wrapped her dressing-gown closer round her, and prepared to depart. + +"I couldn't keep her in my room," she said; "I've two girls camping on +the floor. Besides, she would begin confessing everything, and I am +certain that I should smack her. Pretend that you are asleep. If she +cries, don't notice. Good night, my child." + +She patted Susan on the head, looking as if she would have kissed her, +but not being accustomed to caresses, did not quite know how. + +Then she wheeled round to receive the late visitor, holding up her +finger, and crying--"Hush!" very loud. + +Susan lay with her face turned from the light and her eyes shut, as she +had been bidden. She heard Fifine, after some careful whispering, +close the door and make her way down; she heard a smothered sobbing +from the improvised bed that almost blocked the chamber;--and then she +heard a stealthy noise in the room, and opened her eyes. On the wall +she could see the shadow of a person struggling into her clothes, and +evidently about to fly. Some instinct made the girl spring up and +fling herself against the door. + +"Oh! Oh!" said the strange woman, tottering. "Let me out!" + +Susan looked her in the face. + +"If you want to go," she said, "I will call the Duchess." + +The stranger began to cry. She was thin and fair, with a faded skin +and unhappy eyes, outstared by a blaze of jewels. Susan remembered +seeing her at the ball. Kilgour had called her the Shop Window. + +"He's waiting for me. I must go with him," she cried, worked up to a +pitch of agitation that deprived her of self-control. + +"You shall not," the girl said. + +They both heard an engine vibrating far down below. The woman flew to +the window. And then the Duchess's strident voice struck into the +night from her own window underneath. + +"So glad the motor is working. Don't trouble about your wife, Sir +Richard. She's safely tucked up in bed." + +Then a furious backing and grinding, as the car started and rushed away +into the darkness, baulked of a passenger. + +Susan retired sedately into bed, since it was no longer necessary to +guard the door. The woman began to strip off her jewels, that she had +put on again, anyhow,--flinging them in a heap on the table. + +"Absurd, isn't it?" she said, in a high, unnatural key, "wearing all +these.... but I wasn't going to leave them behind." + +The girl said nothing; she was embarrassed. + +"The Duchess took him for Dicky," the prisoner rambled on. Perhaps she +was afraid of silence. "_You_ guessed the truth. I saw you at the +ball to-night. They were all talking about you, and I liked your +diamonds. Did _your_ husband marry you for your money?" + +Susan drew a sharp breath. Ah, this woman was more to be pitied than +she, who had brought sorrow upon herself. + +"Oh, you poor thing!" she said softly, sitting up in bed and clasping +her hands round her knees. + +Lady Cummerbatch was one of those lucky women who find solace in +lamentation. They are the fortunate ones, whose bitterness of heart +can be dissipated in bitter speech. + +"I've heard," she went on, too distracted about her own plight to be +conscious of the rank impertinence of which she was being guilty. +"I've heard all about your husband. He's the wild Barnaby Hill who was +jilted by an Irishwoman and disappeared and married abroad to vex her, +and then turned up after his people thought him dead. You're an +American too, though you are not my kind. They seem fond of you here; +they all take your part;--but what difference does it make? Aren't we +two miserable women?" + +She began to weep noisily, and then to shiver. Getting into bed, she +pulled her fur cloak over her shoulders, and sat hunched up, staring at +the light. + +"Do you mind my not putting out the candle?" she said. "I can't bear +to lie worrying in the dark. If that auto hadn't stuck, and the +Duchess hadn't jumped me when I got out to see what was the matter, I'd +have been out of my misery.... I said to Sir Richard once--'You +married me for my money,' and he laughed in my face and said--'My good +young woman, you had an equivalent--you married me for my title.' And +then I just screamed, 'I married you for your title! Oh, yes, I +married you for your title!' till he banged himself out of the house." + +"But if that was not true----" said Susan. + +"True? It was all true," she sobbed. "The pity was it didn't keep +true. When I married that man I couldn't have told you if his eyes +were grey or green. But there--! It wears off with them and it wears +on with us." + +In her lamentation she continued to identify herself with her +compatriot; their common misfortune, as she conceived it, was mixed up +in her bewailing. + +"Why don't you try it, like me?" she said. "Why don't you run away +from him? If you cry and stamp and bluster it makes them vain, but +when they've lost you outright they miss you.... Oh, it's awful to +live with a man and watch him getting impatient because you are in his +way and he's tied to you;--to see him looking hard at you, thinking how +could he have paid the price! He tried to be civil at first, but his +face soon taught me.... I wonder how long were you deceived?" + +"I was never deceived," said Susan, hardly knowing she had uttered that +sigh aloud. Her arms were round the other woman now; a poor wretch who +had once been happy. Ah, with what pain would she not have gladly +purchased some mirage of happiness, some illusion that she was his ... +and beloved ... for half an hour! + +The haggard butterfly who had been cursed with riches dropped her voice +from its wailing tune to a whisper. + +"I'm going to France to-morrow," she said. "He won't like that. It +will be the same as striking him in the face. He to turn from me to +other women who had no money to give him--! When a man sees that what +he has tossed in the gutter is precious to another man, when he sees +how the other man picks it up,--he feels cheated. It hits him harder +than if you had killed yourself. I thought of _that_ first. But don't +you do it! I knew just how he'd say--'Mad! quite mad!' and bury me and +forget me. He'll never lose sight of it if I go away like this--" and +her voice rose high--"_that_ will let him know how I hate him!" + +But when her confidences had tired her out, and she loosed her clasp of +Susan, pulling up the quilt and sinking into a wearied slumber,--when +the girl lay gazing alone at a light that was burning dim;--there was a +cry in the silence. + +"I've come back, Dicky! Dicky, let me in--! I've come back." + +It was the woman who hated her husband, calling to him in her sleep. + + * * * * * + +Susan awakened in the morning with music in her ears. Dreaming, she +danced with Barnaby, and his arm was round her, his breath quick on her +cheek, his face not ... kind. + +And as the wild illumination of a dream sometimes teaches what a +stumbling consciousness dare not know, so the girl awoke trembling. + +But that dream of all dreams was madness. + +Into her waking mind came the thought of Rackham, the man who had said +he loved her. Had she not always been ill at ease with him, and what +was that but a warning instinct, divining, shrinking from the peril in +a man's admiration? But Barnaby and she had been such good comrades.... + +Quaint incidents crowded on her, scenes in the hunting field, Sunday +afternoons at the stables,--the day he had cut his finger and she had +run to him to bind it up;--the day he had told her the brim of her +riding hat was too narrow, and made her try on another that satisfied +his inspection.... Oh, they had honourably tried not to haunt each +other, but all the same.... Dear and safe memories; they blotted out +last night. + +She raised herself on her elbow and looked across the room at the +runaway. + +So a woman could sleep whom the casual kindness of an acquaintance had +saved from shipwreck; so a woman could sleep who had poured out her +soul to a stranger. + +Someone was tapping at the door. It was late. Ten, eleven, ah, quite +that; and Monsieur had come for Madame and brought her clothes. And +Miladi said Madame was to dress in her room, as one was so cramped up +here. + +The maid waited discreetly at the door, her sharp, foreign eyes taking +in everything, the other woman huddled up in bed, her clothes flung all +over the floor, her gems scattered recklessly on the table. + +Susan slipped on the dressing-gown that had been brought her, and was +following, Fifine going down in front as a picket, to see that the +coast was clear; when she heard her neighbour calling. Lady +Cummerbatch was sitting up in bed. + +"I made a fool of myself last night, didn't I?" she said. "Why didn't +you smother me with my pillow? Don't be afraid, I'm as wise as an old +hen this morning." She pulled the girl close enough to kiss. "You are +a dear; you are a dear!" she cried. + +Stretching out her arm to the dressing-table, she caught up something +from its disordered glitter, squeezing it into Susan's hand. + +"Keep it," she said. "I know you've heaps of your own. I saw them +last night. But I want you to have something to remember me by. I can +do nothing for anybody but give them things.... Do! Please me! I'd +have thrown myself out of that window if you hadn't been kind to me." + +The girl looked doubtfully at the diamond star that had been thrust +upon her. + +"If you don't care to wear anything I've worn," said the woman, "put it +by. Who knows? Some day you may be glad to have it. If it does come +from a worthless creature, it's fit to sell. I've heard of rich women +whose husbands ruined them, and who had to pawn their jewels.... How +do we know what will happen to you and me?" + +Susan went down the irregular flight of stairs. The Duchess was +waiting in her room for a word. + +"Good morning, my child," she said. "Your husband has very properly +come to fetch you. I should advise you to let him off lightly about +last night." + +The maid had gone out of the room. + +"About----?" faltered Susan. + +"Philandering with Julia. I believe in severity, of course," said the +Duchess bluntly, "but as a matter of fact Kitty and I have been at him +like early birds. Told him what we thought of him, and so forth. +Don't look so sorry. It's done him good, and you can descend upon him +like a forgiving saint." + +"I have nothing to forgive him," the girl protested. "Oh, I wish you +would not say that." + +The Duchess smiled benevolently at her stammering haste. She fancied +she understood. + +"I quite forgot," she said, "to ask after that idiot upstairs. +_There's_ a woman who tried to enrage her husband into paying her more +attention by making herself conspicuous with another man. Bad policy, +my child. It makes the man think less of her, though it may alarm his +possessive instinct;--and, of course, if anybody stole your old coat +you'd feel inclined to knock him down:--but that wouldn't make you +believe it was as good as new. No, no, it's a fallacious notion. +However, we're talking of this person. I'd be sorry for her feelings +if I didn't think the shock of being stopped on the brink would bring +her to her senses. We are very good-natured among ourselves, but _she_ +wouldn't find it easy to live it down. She isn't one of us." + +She smiled encouragingly at the girl, who was wrapped in her own +dressing-gown, a thick masculine garment that sat oddly on her slimness. + +"People think," she said, "that we hunting people are a lawless band. +They think they can come and do as they like in Melton. Just because +we have a sporting sense of loyalty to each other, and stick to our +friends when they need us. If you or Barnaby, for example, did +anything outrageous, we'd scold you a little and let it drop. But we +don't do it with an outsider.... He's brought your habit. Get into +your things, my dear." + + +Barnaby nodded to her cheerfully as she came into the breakfast room. +He was sitting on the window seat, and the rest of them were at +breakfast. Whether or no they had been attacking him, he did not look +cast down. + +"Well, how are you?" he said. "Good girl, you are coming hunting. I +brought everything, didn't I? They nearly left out your boots." + +"Look out and see who that is passing," said the Duchess. Someone was +cracking a whip below. He flung up the window, and she came round +herself. + +"What's the matter?" she said. "Is it a serenade, or do you want some +coffee?" + +A man with a long nose and a grizzling moustache had halted on his way +up the street. Two or three others had left him and were trotting on. + +"Have you heard the latest?" he said. "Richard Cummerbatch is drawing +all the covers like a raging maniac, roaring for his wife. Her party +went back in two cars from the ball last night, and each lot thought +she had gone in the other. It appears she's bolted." + +"Upon my word," said the Duchess, "if you are going to shout scandal at +the top of your voice I shall have to put up my shutters. She is just +over your head, Major. She had nowhere to go, since her party went off +without her; so I took her in." + +"Hey? What?" he said, looking up as quickly as if the lady were a +chimney-pot that might fall on him. "--Keep still, horse! You don't +say so?" + +His face was blank for an instant, but he soon recovered from his +disappointment. His well of gossip had not run dry. + +Cocking his head on one side like a mischievous old bird, he began on +another tack. + +"Well," he said, "if you're so rough on scandal, you'll have to keep +our friend Barnaby in order. What does his poor little American wife +say to his goings-on?" + +There was an awful pause in the room above. + +"Susan," said Barnaby, "he's as deaf as a post. Put your head out and +tell him as loud as you can what you think of me." + +Somebody began to laugh; the rest followed; and there was no more +awkwardness; his presence of mind had saved the situation. As he +leaned out of the window with his hand on Susan's shoulder the Major's +face was a study. Incontinently he fled. + +"There!" said Barnaby, "we have routed the enemy. Let's get on our +horses and pursue him. Hullo, who are these? A whole tribe without +one sound horse among them." + +The Duchess started back. + +"Don't tell me it is my friend Wickes," she said. "I promised him +weeks ago I'd beat up a little talent for his concert to-night, and I +have never done it. For heaven's sake, somebody, volunteer! Is there +a woman here who can sing in tune?" + +"Do you sing, Susan?" said Barnaby. + +"Oh, the man's affectation! Does she or does she not?" + +She did not know what impelled her. Perhaps his carelessness; his +unshaken attitude of amusement at a position that was--to him--so +absurd. + +"I could act something, perhaps," she said. The Duchess jumped at her +offer. + +"Booked!" she declared. "Stop that man clattering past, and tell him I +want him to sing _John Peel_. And, Cherry, you'll do for a comic song. +You're men, and it doesn't matter about your voices, so long as you +wear red coats." + +The young man she was ordering pushed away his cup with an injured air. +A murmur of--"Delighted, I'm sure. Delighted!" floated up from the +street. + +"You know I have only one song," he said, "and that is--_The Broken +Heart_." + +"Well," she said unfeelingly, "you can make it comic." + +"Are you coming?" said Barnaby. He was waiting; some of them had +already started. The girl caught up her gloves and whip. + +"Good-bye, all of you," said the Duchess. "I beg you'll remember your +obligations. Barnaby, the thing is at eight. Call down to _John Peel_ +and tell him.... Whatever you do, don't let my performer come to any +harm." + +"I will not quit her side for a moment," he promised, and the Duchess +shook her head at him as they ran downstairs. + +He was laughing as he put her up in the saddle. + +"It appears you don't know how to manage a husband," he said. "Don't +look so sorrowful. _I_ don't mind them.--And the general public is +anxious to lend a hand." + +They rode soberly side by side, over the noisy cobbles, down to the low +white bridge thronged with pedestrians, threading their way amidst the +stream that was turning in at the gates farther on to the right. + +"We'll keep on, shall we?" said Barnaby. "Hounds will be moving +directly, and there'll be a fearful crowd getting out of the Park." + +So they held on between the lines of townsfolk and, turning upward, +fell in with a cluster of horsemen on the watch, loitering on the hill. + +"Awful bore, meeting in the town like this," said one of these +peevishly. His horse was eyeing a perambulator strangely, and there +was no space for antics. "Why do the Quorn do it?" + +"Oh, it pleases the multitude." + +There was a roar down below, and a scuffling noise as of hundreds +running. Above the bobbing heads passed a glimpse of scarlet, as a +whip issued from the green gates, clearing a way for hounds that were +hidden from view in the middle of the throng. Barnaby turned his horse +round. + +"Come on," he said. "We'll wait for them out of the town. I suppose +it's the customary pilgrimage? Gartree Hill." + +Behind them, louder and louder, drowning the tumult, came the +quickening tramp of horses. Their own animals grew excited. + +"Sit him tight!" said Barnaby. Her horse had nearly bucked into the +last lamp-post at the top of the hill. He would not wait peaceably at +the corner, so she took him a few yards farther on, straight over the +brow, where the way was not street, but road, looking down upon open +country. + +"Hullo!" said Barnaby. + +The fields that spread underneath were bare and wind-swept; there was +no sign of life in them. But what was that brownish dab on the right? +Incredulously he watched it travelling up the furrow;--and, convinced, +let out a wild yell that made their own horses jump. + +"It's a fox!" he said. "It's a fox. Keep your eye on him, Susan, +while I fetch them up." + +He galloped back, waving his hat to hurry the startled host. The +huntsman came swiftly over the hill, and a glance assured him; he +touched his horn. In half a minute he and his hounds were scouring +over the fields, and the riders who had been at the front were jumping +out of the road. + +"They've found. They are running!" + +The cry was flung from lip to lip along the bewildered ranks that had +closed up in expectation of the long jog to cover. A minute more and +the crowd had burst like a scattered wave, far and wide. + +Down the slope; up a rise; in and out of a lane defended by straggling +blackthorn; dipping over the skyline; the pack was gone. Only the +quickest could live with them, only the first away had a chance of +keeping up in the run. They were just a handful as they landed over a +stake-and-bound into a rolling pasture, a great rough waste where the +ridges rose up like billows, crosswise, submerging the horses that were +shortening in their stride. + +"Good for the liver!" groaned Kilgour, as he rocked up and down. "But +what a sell for the crafty ones waiting on Gartree Hill!" + +"They'll cut in with us at Great Dalby," said Barnaby, flinging a +glance that side. The pack hung to the left, still flying. + +"Not much!" said Kilgour. "D'you suppose the fox is stopping with +Lydia Measures for a bottle of ginger beer?--What did I tell you? +There they go, wide of the village, over the Kirby lane----" + +He broke off his ejaculations, pointing triumphantly with his whip, +pushing on. A man of his build could not afford to lag behind, unlike +those light-weights who could lie by and then come like a whirlwind and +make it up. He must keep plodding on. But he took no shame to diverge +suddenly to a gate. Let the young 'uns surmount that rasper. + +On the high ground above a breathless horde struck in. Rumour, or the +wind, or some saving instinct had warned them; they had come at a +breakneck pace from their shivering watch elsewhere. + +Susan, riding her hardest, with her chin up and rapture on her face, +laughed as she heard the frantic thudding of that pursuit. + +"They've missed a bit," cried Barnaby at her shoulder. Her horse was +faster than his, but was tiring. She was glad to steady him as the +pack ran into a strip of trees. + +"What a scent!" said Barnaby. "Hark at them! They're sticking to +him;--they're driving him up the Pastures!" + +He swung round in his saddle, still keeping on. The rearguard, no +longer in desperation, were trooping contentedly down the road. + +"They'll get left," he said. "They reckon on losing him. Silly asses, +they're lighting their cigarettes!" + +Slower, but steadily, hounds were running up the wood. Their cry +increased in volume, vociferous, echoing in the trees. It sounded a +hundred times louder than in the open. And this time there was no +changing foxes; they drove him too hard. Out he went at the top, and +had no time to twist and turn in again; they were on his heels. Beyond +was a steep drop into a village, and then a long struggle, and another +drop to a ford. As the last of them were splashing through the water, +the first of them were swinging out of their saddles and turning their +horses' heads to the wind. They had run to Baggrave, and killed their +fox in the Park. + +"Three cheers for Barnaby and his outlier," said Kilgour. "That was no +poultry-snatcher, but a real beetle-fed warrior. What the dickens +shall we do next?" + +"Oh, get up in a tree, somebody, like Sister Anne; and rake the horizon +for second horses!" + +Susan knew that voice. It was Rackham. + +"Get up yourself," said Kilgour. "Your history isn't sound. _I_ don't +trust my weight on anything but a watch-tower." + +Susan had turned away her face; she did not want to have to acknowledge +Rackham, although he had no shame in approaching her. Nervously she +plunged into a rapid argument with Kilgour, whose broad and comfortable +presence was a kind of buckler. But through it all she was conscious +of him, she heard his voice. He and Barnaby were arranging something +about a horse. She did not catch the drift of it, but Rackham turned +to her pointedly and asked her opinion. + +"I wasn't listening," she said. His glance was penetrating; she could +not escape it, and recollection burnt in her cheek. She heard Barnaby +whistle suddenly to himself. + +Hounds were moving at last, not hurrying, but drifting across the park, +searching as they went; and second horsemen were springing up out of +nowhere. Those who were lucky were changing horses. Already it was +far on in the afternoon. + +"That's the worst of beginning so late," said Kilgour. "The day's gone +before you know it. And here we've been dawdling, munching.... Now +we'll just get away with the twilight after dodging backwards and +forwards for an hour or two between the Prince of Wales's and Barkby +Holt." + +"Shut up, ill prophet!" said Barnaby, as they gathered close in to the +cover-side. Already there was a whimper. + +But it was late before the prophesied shilly-shallying came to its +appointed end, and those who had resisted the false alarms, sticking +patiently on guard at a windy corner, saw a fox break at last. A +misleading holloa had drawn off the field; they were massing on the +other side, out of sight, out of hearing in the rising wind that +carried away with it the warning note of the horn. And hounds were +slipping out like lightning. + +"Come on!" said Barnaby. This time there was no mistake. + +It didn't matter that there was a rival shout behind the dense thicket. +Let those who liked it exclaim that the pack was divided, and miss a +run to hang skirmishing for ever and ever about the Holt.... They had +a fox away, and at least half the hounds were on him as he dipped the +rise and went spinning into the infinite. Just a handful of riders +they were, but high-hearted, as they turned their faces towards the dim +red line of the sinking sun. + +Miles and miles they seemed to go swinging on. Behind a grey church, +round a silent village, and under a rustling wood. The wind was fresh +with the breath of twilight; its withering blast died down with that +last stinging gust of rain. And hounds were still running as swift as +shadows, flickering far and fast. + +One by one the rest of them had fallen back; had steadied their +faltering horses and listened, beaten. Susan could hardly see the +fences as they came up, darker and darker against the sky. But her +horse rushed at them gallantly, and she had Barnaby to follow. Hounds +were invisible now, but near; their cry was fierce behind that clump of +trees, impenetrable but for one glimmering gap of light. + +"They're running him still!" called Barnaby, plunging in. + +His voice was all she wanted. She could not ask more of Heaven than +this one gallop; and all her life she would remember that she had +ridden it out with him.... + +They had to ride warily through the trees, feeling their way, trusting +in their horses. Here the path was deep and boggy, there water +trickled, and the boughs hung low, swishing against them as they went +by. Birds whirred restlessly in the creaking branches, and an owl flew +shrieking in front of them. When they emerged from that eerie passage +everything had grown weird and strange in the cheating dusk. + +"That's the horn," said Barnaby. "He's calling them off. Doesn't it +sound unearthly?--There they are. Listen.... Listen.... They're +running him in the dark!" + +Far away on the hillside a light twinkled suddenly, turning the +twilight land into darkness as the first star makes it night in the sky. + +Barnaby laughed. "That was a hunt!" he said. "Hark! he's stopped +them. We'll have to find our way out of this. Why, we can't see each +other's faces.... Let's keep on a bit up this hedge-side, and perhaps +we'll get into a bridle-road." + +He went first, striking into a kind of track. + +"There should be a gate in the corner," he said. "Better let your +horse get his head down and smell out the rabbit-holes. We're like the +babes in the wood, aren't we? Mind that grip!--Where are you?" + +The gate was there. They passed through it, and on the other side was +a sign-post. Barnaby struck a match, standing up in his stirrups to +peer at the moss-stained board. + +"I'm afraid," he said, "we'll be late for that concert. Unless we can +strike Kilgour's habitation and get him to send us on. Shall we try +for it? We're--oh, never mind where we are; it's the end of the world, +anyhow. Are you tired to death?" + +He turned round with the match in his fingers, and looked at her, but +it had burnt down; he dropped it, and reaching out, caught her hand, +swinging it in his as their horses stumbled on side by side. + +"What a cold little hand!" he said, but his grip was warming it through +the leather.... + +The end of the world.... He had used the word so lightly, but it +called her back to reason. Another day was over. And perhaps +to-morrow the world might end. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +The Duchess and her friend Wickes were a trifle anxious, but their +faces cleared as the late ones arrived. Two or three rows behind them +the village schoolmaster dropped like a shot rabbit into his seat. + +"A minute later and we'd have been lost," whispered the Duchess. "It's +always a battle to keep him off the platform. Once he is wound up no +power on earth can stop him. Twice already he has offered his +recitation, proposing to fill the breach." + +"Poor devil, what a shame!" said Barnaby. "Why not let him?" + +"We did let him--once," said Wickes, and a reminiscent shudder passed +down the row. He addressed himself eagerly to Susan. + +"It's awfully good of you, Mrs. Hill," he said, the worried creases in +his long face relaxing. "Every time I get up a village concert I swear +it will be the last, but I go on doing it year by year. You have no +idea what the tribulations are----" + +"That is meant for me," said the Duchess, lowering her voice to a +guilty whisper. "--I ask you, how could I help it? You know what a +commotion there was this morning, getting off to the meet.--I told +somebody to call down from my window to Rufus Brown that he was to +attend this concert and sing _John Peel_.--I could tell him a mile off +by his old grey horse; you know how the creature bobs his head up and +down:----" + +"_I_ did your bidding," said Barnaby. "You only said 'Stop him!' and I +don't know who on earth it was, but it certainly wasn't Rufus." + +"How was I to know," groaned the Duchess, "that he had sold the grey?" + +"But the beggar was quite delighted," protested Barnaby, who saw +nothing worse than a joke in this substitution of a probably voiceless +stranger. "He undertook to do it." + +The Duchess pointed a solemn finger. + +"Barnaby," she said, "you have been out of the world too long. You +don't know the whole horror of the position. There he sits!" + +"Flushed with victory," murmured someone else, "hoarse with +bawling:----" + +"It was an awful moment," said the Duchess, "when he came and thanked +me for the compliment I had paid him. I've never spoken to the wretch +in my life." + +"He feels you have adopted him now," said the Job's comforter at her +elbow. "Barnaby, you don't know him. He's the most impossible bounder +who was ever kicked out of society, and we have all been turning him +the cold shoulder for the last two seasons. We were beginning to hope +we had finally choked him off." + +"Poor Wickes is nearly beside himself," said the Duchess. "He will +never get over it. But imagine my feelings when I discovered what I +had done----" + +"The populace at the back didn't know what to make of it; they are used +to us rollicking in _John Peel_,--shouting out the chorus. But we were +all too utterly petrified to emit a whoop----" + +"Is there anything you would like in the way of properties, Mrs. Hill?" +said Wickes, in a severe, sad voice. Susan looked down, suddenly +nervous, her hands clenched, her face a little pale. + +"What is your wife going to do?" Kilgour was asking, and Barnaby was +answering carelessly that he didn't know. + +"She is rather a dab at acting," he said, and now he was looking +humorously at her. But for once she failed to smile back her +recognition of the eternal joke between them.... Yes, she was good at +acting.... + +"Turn the lights down," she said, and Mr. Wickes flew obediently to the +nearest lamp. Anything to obliterate past misfortunes!--"And there is +a woman at the back with a baby. Ask her to lend it to me." + +She had meant to amuse them differently, but some impulse had made her +change her mind. She flung a dark shawl, borrowed, over her satin +frock. Mr. Wickes came back to her, carrying the child gingerly; its +mother had relinquished it with pride, only protesting against his +taking it up by the back of its neck like a puppy, which Wickes, +distracted by his responsibilities, had seemed inclined to do. + +They were all looking at her with interest, mildly stirred to expect +something unusual, as the anxious Wickes helped her on to the platform +and lowered another lamp. But as she stood above them their curious +faces faded, and the touch of the little body, so light in her arm, +took her out of herself. She was once more playing, playing for life, +in the Tragedy Company; making the people sob at the tragic end of the +drama. + +"--Don't waken the child...." + +The first note of her voice vibrated like the plaintive string of a +harp. The listeners were startled. + +She was the woman whose husband was faithless and, in the horrible +madness that gripped him, was coming to take her life. She was shut +in, hidden in a poor shelter, miles away from human help; and she was +listening for his step in terror, loving him so bitterly still that she +would have been glad to die, but clinging desperately to life for the +sake of his child. And she rocked the baby on her arm, half +distracted; singing to it, ceasing her chant to listen ... and +imagining his approach. But all the while, in her despair, she stifled +the scream that was on her lips;--she must not waken the child. + +Farther and farther she retreated, staring with frightened eyes at the +door, but still hushing the baby at her breast; and then, all at once, +she stopped, and bent her face to its cheek. A pause hung, +significant; and then came her cry, dreadful, heart-breaking. The baby +was still. He might come; he might kill her ... he could not waken the +child.... + +"Good heavens, how real!" said Mr. Wickes. + +Susan, breathing a little quicker, looked down on the dim-lit audience. +All these women could ride, all these women could dance.... She wanted +Barnaby to think of her sometimes, later. Would he remember her by the +one thing they could not do? by that wild scrap of melodrama? + +The room was shaking with an almost hysterical applause. Behind there +was an enthusiastic stamping. And the only woman who was not crying +was the baby's mother, who was too flattered, and one other who looked +on with disdainful eyes. + +"Did you like it?" asked the actress wistfully. It was Barnaby himself +who had come forward to help her down. She could not hear what he +said; it was under his breath, and it was drowned in the clapping. + +The lights had gone up again; she could recognize the people who were +surrounding her, as she stepped down amongst them. Near the wall, not +very far from the Duchess, who was frankly borrowing a large, masculine +handkerchief, were sitting a thin, fair woman, and a big, stupid, +slow-witted man. They both had an odd look of having just found each +other. The Duchess wagged her head at them. + +"Yes," she whispered, "there they are. They have made it up.... +Wickes, don't you think it would be a noble deed to invite the +schoolmaster to play God Save the King? It will get his name into the +local paper." + +"Certainly," said Wickes. He took a long breath, conceiving his +troubles over, remaining, however, with his eyes fixed on Susan in a +kind of awed curiosity. Finally he spoke out the problem in his mind. + +"Do you mind telling me," he said, apologetically, "what spell you +used--how you contrived to keep the infant quiet?" + +"Oh, she's a witch!" said Barnaby. + +"Yes, she's a witch," said the Duchess kindly, "but I know the secret. +It had a comforter in its mouth." + +They were all moving now, bustling out of their chairs, and blocking up +the gangway with their "good nights." The proletariat was waiting for +them to depart before shuffling out of the shilling benches. And there +was Julia, paler than usual, but as lovely, smiling at Barnaby, giving +him a long, strange look that was full of pity and understanding.... + +"You're done up," said Barnaby. "Come along. I shouldn't have let you +be dragged into this performance on the top of a hard day's hunting." + +She kept her lip steady, wishing she had not seen that interchange of +glances; shrinking absurdly from the implication that was conveyed by +Kilgour's officious interposition of his broad person. Did he think he +could arrest the march of events by planting himself like a kind ox +between Barnaby and Julia? Did he think they would not find means--? +Still she kept her lip steady, letting Barnaby hurry her down the room; +reminding herself that she had no right to feel insulted, or even a +little sad. + + * * * * * + +When they reached home she was going straight upstairs, as was her +custom, but Barnaby stopped her. + +"Don't go up yet," he said. "You ate no dinner. I told them we'd have +something when we came in." + +She let him draw a chair for her beside that red fire in the hall that +always tempted the weary to go no farther; and bring things that she +did not want out of the dining-room. + +"I've sent away the servants," he said. "I've got out of the way of +them flitting round me. You'd rather sit here, wouldn't you, and get +warm and let me forage?" + +For a little while they were gay, and then he cleared away plates and +glasses, and a silence fell between them. He settled down in another +of the great chairs and lit a cigarette. A smile curved in the corners +of his mouth and vanished; he was thinking hard. Susan watched him, +shading her eyes with her hand that he might not raise his head +suddenly and read their wistfulness. She was not often alone with him +in the house. + +What was he thinking? His face was no longer careless; the kind blue +eyes were fixed earnestly on the fire. She remembered the strangeness +of Julia's look and her heart ached, guessing. Something must have +happened between them; he must have let her see unmistakably that he +loved her still. For there had been no restlessness in Julia's air, no +bravado,--it had been the smile of a woman who was sure. And he had +himself set a barrier between them. + +She felt a wild longing to comfort him, to take his head on her arm and +whisper that nothing was too hard for a man,--nothing worth that +steadfast, unhappy gaze. + +He moved, and the start it gave her set her pulses beating fast. If he +had not stirred, might not the impulse have been too much for her? +might she not have found herself kneeling by him, comforting him in the +madness of her heart? She heard her own voice, imploring, sharp as if +in some stress of mortal fright-- + +"Oh, let me go! Oh, will you not let me go?" + +He had looked up quickly. The sobbing wildness of her cry broke in on +his absent mood. + +"You are tired of the farce?" he said. + +She came back to herself. What was the matter with her? +"I--cannot--bear it," she said slowly. + +And for a minute there was silence again between them. She heard the +fire crackling, a far-away clock ticking on the stairs; ... she thought +she could hear the silence itself. + +"I didn't know it was hurting you," he said. + +He was sorry for her; he must not be sorry. She tried to laugh. + +"Don't think of me," she said. "It--it didn't matter. After all, I'm +an actress. I am one of these strange people that can pretend. Let me +go back to the other kind of acting, where nobody will think me real; +where there will be crowds applauding, and not just one person to be +amused and say--'She carries it off well, but she'll make a slip,--she +will stumble!' ... Oh, it couldn't hurt me. Don't you know we can only +hurt ourselves?" + +"Do you think I'll let you go back to that life?" he said. + +His voice recalled the raging warmth of pity with which he had once +referred to his lawyer's tale of her plight. Apparently the situation +still roused in him a mistaken feeling that she was in his charge. She +flushed, struggling with a betraying weakness. + +"A hard life," she said, "but not unbearable.... My public will not be +cheated. They will not shame me with too much kindness----" + +Barnaby was not listening. + +"Who was the man,--that fellow last night?" he said. + +Why did he speak of that? Did he dare to imagine that she was building +on another man's promises? that she was scheming, calculating--? + +"No,--" she cried bitterly. "No,--not that!" + +A great while after, it seemed to her, he spoke again. His voice was +quiet. + +"I think you are right," he said. "It's time to make an end of this. +It's too dangerous." + +"Yes," she said faintly. That at least was true.... + +He went on, rather quickly. She was not looking at him. She could not. + +"Listen. To-morrow you'll have a wire from London. I'll see to it. +I'm afraid we can't make it a cable; there isn't time. It will have to +be from my lawyers, saying you are wanted in America on important +business. My mother doesn't understand business. Anyhow, you'll be +excited, and you needn't know what it means; so you can't explain." + +"Yes," she said, in the same low voice. "To-morrow." + +"We'll have to see about boats and things when we get up to town. And, +of course, we'll have to make up a story. But once you're out of this +country----" + +Yes, once she was out of this country it would all be simple. She had +only to disappear. + +"What will you say of me?" she asked, with a sad quaintness. "Will you +tell them that I am dead?" + +He moved suddenly, checking himself. + +"Oh, God knows!" he said. "It will take a lot of planning. You've +forgotten the--other lady." + +Yes, that was his difficulty. Although she would be gone there would +still be a bar between him and Julia. That was the tragedy. + +"I'll be out when the wire comes, probably," he said. It seemed to +amuse him to settle the details; he seemed to be flinging his +seriousness aside. "Rackham is coming over to try a horse. For form's +sake you'll have to send for me immediately. I'll be somewhere down in +the schooling pastures." + +The nearness of exile took away her breath. But the impossible +situation could only have ended so. That had been their bargain. At +least she had not failed him, she had done all that he asked of her, +drinking the bitter cup of her own dishonesty to the dregs. A rush of +memory carried her back to that first night of his return, so distant, +and yet such a little while ago. She held out her hand to him, humbly, +uncertainly-- + +"Good night," she said. "You--you have been good to me." + +Barnaby took her hands in his; clasped them hard. It was surely not +his voice that was so unsteady. + +"It's the last time, is it?" he said. "Let's play it out gallantly. +Let's pretend. Susan,--Susan--is that how you say good night to your +husband?" + +Her heart beat fast; her head was dizzy. He was looking down in her +eyes, drawing her hands to his breast. + +No, not Barnaby:--not the one man she trusted!... + +"Good night,--Sir," she whispered. + +And he remembered; he let her go and stood back as she passed him on +her way to the stairs. + +"Good night," he repeated, in that queer, unsteady voice. "I beg your +pardon,--Madam." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +To-morrow had come. + +It was the same kind of morning as other mornings; there was no lurid +conflagration lighting up the sky. Outside it was dull and quiet, and +even the wind was still. Susan paused at the staircase window, gazing +a little while. + +In the hall beneath she heard Barnaby talking to the dogs. And his +voice shook her. The stunned sense of finality that was with her gave +way to a sharp and sudden pain. + +She could not bear to go down to him. Turning, she fled back. + +"Is that you, Susan?" called Lady Henrietta. She was sitting up at her +breakfast, and the door of her room was ajar. "Where is Barnaby riding +out so early? I heard his boots creaking as he went by." + +"I don't know," the girl said, truly. "I haven't seen him." + +"Then don't loiter like a draught in the door," said Lady Henrietta +impatiently. "Come in and have your tea up here and help me to read my +letters." + +She did as she was bidden. The sharp kindliness of Barnaby's mother +was sweet to her; and it was the last time she would sit with her, the +last time she would listen with a smile that was not far from tears to +her caustic prattle. Whatever happened to her, however they managed +her disappearance, she and Lady Henrietta would never meet again. +Would she think of her sometimes,--kindly?--She was not to know.... + +"What's the matter now?" said Lady Henrietta suddenly. "You look pale." + +Hurriedly the girl defended herself from the imputation. + +"Of course, it's Barnaby," said Lady Henrietta, undismayed. "I suppose +he has been behaving badly." + +"Oh no! Oh no!" cried Susan. + +Lady Henrietta waved her hands impatiently. How fragile she looked, +how pretty;--the pink in her cheekbones matching her painted silk +peignoir. The hardness that sometimes marred her expression had +softened to a pitying amusement, and she had a look of Barnaby when she +smiled like that. + +"You'd deny it with your last gasp," she said. + +Susan was picking up and arranging the letters that were lying in +disorder. It was difficult to sustain that quizzical regard. But +Barnaby's mother had not finished with her. She was not to be +distracted. + +"You never tell me anything, either of you," she said. "What is a +mother-in-law for but to rule the tempest and shoot about in the +battle? It's too firmly fixed in your heads that I am a brittle thing, +and whatever is raging round me I am not to be excited. And it's +absurd. I don't mind having a heart,--in reason. It's amusing; a kind +of trick up my sleeve. But I won't have it robbing me of my rightful +flustrations.--I am as strong as a horse, if you two would realize it. +And you and Barnaby are such a funny couple." + +She scanned the girl's face a minute. + +"I'm attached to you, you little wretch," she said. "But I don't +believe you care a straw for him." + +But as she spoke her merciless eyes had pierced the girl's mask of +light-heartedness. On this last morning Susan was not mistress of +herself. + +"You _are_ fond of him!" she said. "Dreadfully, ridiculously fond of +him like any old-fashioned girl...." + +"Oh, hush!" cried Susan. Anything to stop that unmerciful +proclamation. She flung herself on her knees, and her terrified +protest was stifled in Lady Henrietta's arms. + +"How silly we are!" said she, but she held the girl tightly. "I'm to +bridle my tongue, am I? You are afraid I shall tell him? Oh, you poor +little girl, you baby, is it as bad as that?" + +She pushed her away, as if ashamed of her own emotion, and a fierceness +came into her voice, that had been entirely kind. + +"If you allow that woman to ruin your lives--!" she said. "Oh, I'm not +blind, I'm not altogether stupid--! If you let her take him from +us--I'll never forgive you, Susan." + +Having launched her bolt, all unconscious of its stabbing irony, she +recovered her bantering equanimity, and looked whimsically at her +listener. + +"Why are you gazing at me," she said, "as if I were about to vanish? +I'm not going to die of it. I am going to take the field." + + * * * * * + +Barnaby was not in the house when the girl went at last downstairs. +She wandered in and out of the library, trying to smother her +expectation, listening without ceasing for the telegram that was to +come and make an end. He did not appear at luncheon, and she sat +alone, pretending to eat, but starting at every sound. Afterwards, to +quiet her restlessness, she went round to the stables to say good-bye +to the horses. + +The pigeons flew down to her as she walked into the wide flagged yard. +She went to the corn bin and scattered a handful as they circled round +her and settled at her feet. The men must be still at dinner. There +was no stud groom to look reproachful as she tipped a little oats in a +sieve to give secretly to the horse that had been her own in this +country of make-believe. She felt like a thief as she lifted the +latch. It seemed wrong to be there by herself, without Barnaby. She +had always gone round with him. + +The horse lifted his beautiful head, and they stared at each other. +She patted his quarter with her flat hand, and he went over and let her +empty her parting gift in his manger. + +"Good-bye," she said. "Good-bye, old boy!" + +Tears choked her. She stumbled out through the straw and shut the door +on him. + +All down that side of the yard there was a row of boxes. The bay came +first, and then the chestnut that Barnaby had ridden yesterday +afternoon. He pulled a little with Barnaby; ... he had never pulled +with her. And there was the hotter chestnut that she had called +Mustard, and the brown horse that had been mishandled and had a trick +of striking out when a stranger came up to him in the stall. She had +gone with Barnaby to look at him when he first arrived from the +dealers',--and Barnaby had caught her back just in time. The horse +looked at her gravely, sadly, with no evil flicker in his eye. Life +had dealt hardly with him as with her, and he seemed, best of them all, +to understand. But Barnaby had forbidden her to go near him.... +Mechanically she went on to Black Rose's box, but her place was empty. + +There was a grey next door, an old horse that had carried her many +times. He was to be fired in the spring, sold perhaps. She leant her +head, shuddering, against him; and he licked at her hand like a dog.... +What was the end of them, all these brave, patient, willing creatures? +A few seasons' eager service, and then, step by step, as the tired +muscles failed the undying spirit--knocking from hand to hand, harder +fare, worse misusage,--the dreadful descent into hell. + +Once, on their way back from hunting, they had come suddenly on a +strange procession, a gaunt herd of worn-out shadows making their last +journey, staggering humbly along the wayside. It was a haunting +tragedy. Staring ribs, hollow eyes dim with misery,--and the cursing +driver thrashing one that had fallen, and lay in a quivering heap on +the grass. She had asked what this horror was.... Just a shipload of +useless horses travelling in the dusk their unspeakable pilgrimage to +the sea. + +And she had turned on the men riding at her side. Shame on them, that +were English, that called themselves a sporting nation.... What a lie +that was! she had cried.... + +And Barnaby had said--"She's right there!" and the other men had not +laughed.... + +There were voices in the saddle-room. One of the grooms crossed the +yard whistling. She was still leaning her head against the old horse, +and she waited. She did not want the men to stare at her and wonder; +she did not want them to find her there. + +"The master took out Black Rose, didn't he?" + +"Yes. He's gone down the fields with his Lordship." + +"Will he be riding her in the Hunt steeplechases?" + +That was a stranger's voice, not one of Barnaby's servants. + +"Can't say."--The stud groom was cautious. + +"That's an ugly brute of his Lordship's. Why didn't he ride him here?" +said another voice, joining in. + +"He had to go somewhere in the motor, and so I'd orders to bring the +horse over. It wasn't a job I envied," said Rackham's groom. + +"If ever a horse was a devil, that one is," said the stud groom, +laconically. + +"Wants a devil to back him," muttered Rackham's man. "I never ride out +of our yard without expecting he'll down me. Got a history, hasn't he?" + +"Who told you that?" + +"Stevens told me you'd passed a remark about him." + +The stud groom received the insinuating suggestion with a dignity that +was proof against pumping for the space of a minute. He chewed on a +straw discreetly. Then his own knowledge became too much for him. + +"If I told you his history, Arthur Jones," he said slowly, "you'd never +lay your legs across him no more." + +"Then for God's sake tell it," said Arthur Jones. + +The stud groom laughed grimly. He was a man of saturnine humour, and +liked impressing his underlings. + +"His Lordship knows," he said. "If any man could cow a horse, he can. +Weight tells. Weight and devilry. But any other gentleman buying +Prince John I'd call it suicide. If I didn't,--according to +circumstances, mind you"--he lowered his voice, not much, but +enough--"call it murder." + +Would the men never stop gossiping and disperse? She would have to +face their curious looks at last. + +"I was up Yorkshire way when his Lordship bought him," said the stud +groom deliberately. "Four of us was leaning over the bars at that +auction. Two of us had a mourning band on the sleeve of our coats, and +the third chap had unpicked the crape off his a month ago. When they +put Prince John in the ring there came a frost on the bidding. They +said he'd ought to 'a been shot out of the road, and never put up for +sale. His name wasn't Prince John then. He'd been run in two 'chases, +owners up;--and he'd killed them both." + +The men stood with their mouths open, digesting the horrid tale. And a +stable lad ran into the yard from his vantage point on a hillock. + +"They're down at the jumps," he said, "--and they're changing horses." + +It was then that the girl came out, passing swift as an apparition. +The men fell back, touching their caps. + +"I'll lay she heard you," said Rackham's man. + +The stud groom looked after her curiously and, crossing over to the +door of the grey's box, that she had left unfastened, closed it without +a word. + +She did not know why she was hurrying to the house. What +half-conscious panic had seized her as her inattentive mind took its +wandering impression of the grooms' idle gossip? What words had +reached her, lodging in her brain to inspire that wild sense of +impending trouble? It was no good searching for Barnaby in the house. +He was down at the jumps,--changing horses. + +"There's a wire for you," said Lady Henrietta. + +It had come. At first she looked at it stupidly, as if it, the signal, +were some trivial interruption. She heard herself explaining, like an +unthinking scholar repeating a half-forgotten lesson. "I must go away. +I--I have to go away." + +"Bad news?" asked Lady Henrietta quickly. Susan crumpled the telegram +in her hand. + +"Yes, it's bad news," she said. "It is from the lawyers." + +Vaguely she recollected what she was to say. Something about going up +to London at once, and perhaps on to America. + +"Let me see it," said Lady Henrietta. "Yes, it sounds urgent. We'd +better send somebody to fetch Barnaby. He will have to take you. You +must catch the afternoon train." + +"Yes, I must catch the afternoon train," repeated Susan. That was +decided. Had not Barnaby mapped it out? She wondered dully how he had +managed to convey private instructions for that impeccable message; but +all the while she was thinking, thinking,--and suddenly she was +conquered by her wild, unreasoning fear for him. + +"I'll go and find him," she said. + +Lady Henrietta demurred, curious, desiring to cross-examine; but the +girl's face smote her, and she forbore to hold her back. + +It was not far down the fields, and she went like a driven leaf, +possessed by a fear that would not be stilled by reason. She had gone +down there sometimes to watch them schooling hunters, and she had +ridden the jumps herself, that day when Barnaby showed her how they +trained steeplechasers, with real wide hedges and a movable leaping +bar. He had tried to prevent her risking the double, bristling with +difficulty, and she had defied him, larking over it, and then galloping +back to him to say she was sorry. + +She counted the fences mechanically as they came up one by one, visible +against the winter sky; lines of artificial ramparts, defended by a +guard rail, made up with furze;--and the lapping rim of that actual +water jump. The strange thing was that as she came nearer and nearer, +instead of diminishing, her premonition grew. She talked to herself to +keep down her panic. + +Why were so few men killed steeplechasing? Because it was dangerous, +Barnaby had said. It was the rabbit holes and the mole-hills and the +grips that broke your neck unawares.... That was the gate he had shut +between them, he sitting on his horse on the far side laughing, while +she practised hooking the latch and pushing it back with the handle of +her whip. He had shown her first the nail studded in the horn of the +handle to keep it from slipping;--and then he had clapped the gate +shut, declaring that till she opened it fairly, without his help, she +should never pass. And she had ridden through triumphantly at last. +It was the only thing he had had to teach her. How quaint they were, +these heavy wooden latches.... She let the gate swing and ran. + +Rackham was on Black Rose, and Barnaby on a chestnut. They were +walking their horses when she caught sight of them, and Barnaby was +letting his look over a fence, flicking his whip at the ridge of furze +with its withering yellow blossom. They were not talking loud, but she +thought his voice sounded angry. The chestnut was restive. + +"Keep still, you brute!" he said. + +Something was wrong between the two men. Some old antagonism had +flared up, rousing them to a hot discussion. The chestnut lifted his +forefeet off the ground, and Barnaby shook his bridle carelessly, +warning him again to be quiet. Then all at once up he went, seizing +the unguarded moment.... + +Crash! + +The girl saw him rise, saw him stagger, falling back on his rider; and +she ran on with sobbing breath. + +The chestnut rolled over sideways and struggled on to his legs. A +little way off the mare was plunging, upset by what was happening; she +could hardly be controlled. Susan had reached Barnaby, she had thrown +herself down beside him to lift his head from the rough grass where he +lay so still. Rackham had dismounted; he was coming to help;--but she +was out of her mind with terror. She caught up Barnaby's whip, +springing to her feet, lashing at him as if he were a wild beast that +she must keep at bay. Then she dropped on her knees again, and laid +her cheek on Barnaby's heart, and the turf was heaving up round them +both. + +Far off, indistinct, she heard troubled whispers, and one quite close. + +"He's breathing still, my lady." (That was the stud groom, who had +formerly served a countess. He always addressed her so.) She looked +up at him. + +"He's living yet, my lady," the man repeated in an awed undertone. +"Best not try to move him. They've sent a car for the doctor. Best +let him lie till they come...." + +He knelt on the other side, and one of the men stood over him in his +shirt-sleeves, folding up his coat. With significant carefulness they +raised Barnaby's head a little and slipped it under. And then they all +waited and watched for a hundred years.... + +When the doctor came he was still unconscious. Something was broken, +and there was bad concussion. It was possible he might be injured +internally, strained, crushed,--a cursory examination could not make +sure. They stripped a hurdle of its furze, and he was lifted and laid +upon it; the men hoisted it on their shoulders and tramped with a +dreadful slowness through the fields to the house. + +"I'll ride on and break it to his mother," said Rackham, averting his +eyes from Susan as he spoke to her. + +"Yes," she said dully. She had forgotten him. + +And as it often is, the one who was thought least fitted to support a +shock took it coolly. A lengthy experience of hunting accidents helped +her to seize, comforted, on Rackham's report of concussion, and to +believe in his blunt assurance that the whole thing was nothing worse +than an ordinary spill. A more diplomatic messenger might have +terrified her with his gentleness, but she suspected no concealment in +a man who, without beating about the bush, looked her right in the face +and lied. She did not see the men carry their burden in, and when the +others came to her, relieving Rackham, she was comparatively calm. Her +active fancy was diverted by measures that she ascribed to a misplaced +anxiety for herself. + +"I am not going to collapse," she insisted. "It's too ridiculous +making this fuss about me and not letting me go to him. It's not the +first time the poor boy has been brought back to me knocked silly. You +needn't be so fidgety over me;--you had better look after Susan.... My +dear, my dear, I know what it is! And concussion is a thing the +doctors can't cut you to pieces for, thank Heaven. Give her a little +brandy!" + +Rackham's glance met the doctor's. The case was too serious to provoke +a smile. + +Lady Henrietta had turned to Susan. + +"Oh," she said, with the air of one who wished to demonstrate to an +over-anxious circle that she had her wits about her--"that telegram--! +Of course you can't go now. We must wire up to town.--" + +The girl listened to her without at first comprehending. + +"Oh,--the telegram," she repeated. How pathetically absurd that futile +invention sounded now. + +"I must go to him," she said. + +The doctor nodded encouragement. + +"I'll bring a nurse back with me when I come again," he promised. + +Into the girl's pale cheek came a sudden colour. She lifted her head +and her eyes shone. She held out her hand, and all at once it was +steady. + +"No one else;--no one but me!" she cried. + +Oh, the farce was not played out; the curtain was not down. She was +still his wife to that audience; it was to her he belonged, to no +other.... Desperately she stood on her rights;--the poor, fictitious +rights she had purchased with all that pain. + +"_You_ can't nurse him," the doctor was saying gently. "You'd break +down; you would make yourself ill. You don't know what you would be +undertaking." + +But Barnaby's mother was on her side. + +"Fiddlesticks!" said she. She had brightened unaccountably; in her +voice ran a queer little tremor of satisfaction. "Let her make herself +ill if she likes. Why shouldn't she? I've no patience with modern +vices, calling in hirelings--! A wife's place is with her husband, not +quaking outside his door." + +Susan was looking bravely in the doctor's doubtful face. + +"You can trust me," she said, on her pale lips a wistful flicker that +hardly was a smile.--"I too was a--hireling, once. I know how." + +She knew he must yield. What man would dare to stop her? What man +would dare to dispute her claim? Only Barnaby himself, who might one +day laugh at the tragic humour of her assumption. A kind of despairing +joy shook her soul, and was blotted in a passionate eagerness of +devotion. Barnaby was hurt, perhaps dying, ... and nothing could +conjure her from his side. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +The house had become very quiet. + +Under Barnaby's windows and right down the avenue the crunching granite +was spread with tan. The servants moved silently about their work, +even in the far kitchens whence not a sound could be heard. + +For a long time he was unconscious; for a long time he lay breathing +heavily, and they could not tell if he was in pain. Other doctors came +down from London, and Lady Henrietta had to be told what it was that +the girl was fighting with that pale and steady face. + +"It's love, sheer love, that keeps her going," said one witness to +another, watching her courage in the deeps of agony and uncertainty, +and, at last, in the breakers of hope. + +She was safe in giving herself without stint, because for a long while +he did not know her, and it did not matter to him who it was that was +soothing him with a passionate gentleness of which his jarred brain +would have no knowledge when it recovered its normal tone. She could +sit at his bedside hushing him, whispering that she loved him, she +loved him, and he must sleep. + +Sometimes he talked to her in unintelligible mutterings, sometimes his +rambling speeches, without beginning or end, were bitter to understand. + +"You mustn't mind what he says," the doctor warned her kindly. "It's +certain to be rubbish. Generally they go over and over some silly +thing they remember.--I had a patient once who got into fearful trouble +through winding off something about a murder he had read in a book." + +--That was after he had stood awhile listening gravely to Barnaby's +restless talk. + +--"I'll find a way out. Wait a bit, my darling.... We'll not have our +lives ruined by that mad marriage. I'll find a way out for us." + +It was not always the same. Sometimes in the night it would be--"I +tell you she's my wife. No, no, not the other. Awfully good joke, +what? Mustn't lose my head, though; mustn't lose my head." + +And Susan would lay her cheek against his in an agony lest he should +hurt himself with his excitement. + +"Sleep!" she would whisper, "oh, my dearest, lie still and sleep...." + +"But I love her. Don't you know that? I can't marry my girl. Because +I love her;--just because I love her--mustn't lose my head!" + +Once after she had quieted him, and he had lain a little while +motionless he called her. + +"Are you there?" he said. His voice was so sensible that she trembled. + +"Yes," she said softly, and he gave a sigh of content. But soon he was +muttering again, and restless. + +"She wants me to sleep," he was repeating, "she wants me to sleep." + +No, he had not known who she was. She bent over him, smoothing his +forehead with a tender and anxious hand. Sometimes her touch was +magnetic. + +"Yes," she said. "Hush, my dearest." + +"Kiss me," he murmured suddenly, "and I'll go to sleep." + +And since at all costs he must be coaxed to slumber, she kissed him for +the woman who was not there. + + * * * * * + +Slowly he turned the corner, slowly. + +And at last she found him watching her one morning as she came towards +him with a cup in her hand, across the great, wide room. She liked +this room; it was so vast and simple. Its battered furniture must have +been his when he was a boy. And there was no clutter of pictures and +photographs; only a few ancient oil-paintings of hounds and horses. +Above his bed a square patch in the wall-paper that was unfaded, +betrayed where a woman's portrait had hung once and had been taken down. + +"Hullo!" he said. + +He lay looking at her, thin and haggard, but his whimsical smile +unchanged. + +"It's she," he said, "or is it the stuff that dreams are made of?" + +"It is she," said Susan. + +"I've been ill, haven't I?" he said. "And I say, Susan, have you been +nursing me?" + +"Yes," she said, steadily. + +"I thought so. I've had a kind of feeling that you were there. What's +it all about? Wasn't I down at the jumps with Rackham,--and the horse +went up--? Did I get damaged?" + +"Rather," she said. + +"And you didn't fly to America?" + +"No," she said. + +His weak, amused voice, talking in pauses, smote on her heart. + +"Ah," said Barnaby. "It would have looked bad if you'd bolted, +wouldn't it? No end heartless. Susan,--oh, I've noticed things, off +and on,--you've been killing yourself looking after me.--" + +His smile was troubled. She shook her head at him. + +"You didn't do it," he said, "because, oh,--because of some queer +notion that you owed us something--? You didn't do it to make it up to +us,--to pay us out?" + +She put her arm under his pillow and, raising him slightly, lifted the +cup to him and let him drink. If Barnaby could have known:--if he +could have seen her claiming him in her hour of desperation--! If he +could have dimly guessed what a dreadful happiness had walked hand in +hand with pain! She had won something of her mad adventure. She was +the woman who had nursed him, who had waked night after night at his +pillow. Nobody could rob her of that. And when she was gone he would +perhaps think of her with kindness.... + +"It wasn't remorse," she said. + +"It's awfully good of you," said Barnaby. "But why--but why----" +There was a faint eagerness in his puzzled voice. + +"Perhaps," she said bravely, "it was the dramatic instinct. How could +a poor actress forget all her traditions? How could she help rising to +her part? Don't talk.... Lie quiet and laugh at me all you want." + + * * * * * + +One day Lady Henrietta came into the room with a budget of letters and +all she could rake of gossip. + +"You two have been shut up so long," she said, "I believe you have both +forgotten there is such a thing as an outside world. Why don't you ask +who has been inquiring for you?" + +"Who has been inquiring for me?" said Barnaby. + +He was propped high in his pillows, and was looking like himself. In +the afternoon he was to dress and sit in a chair and read the paper. + +"Everybody," she said. "Poor Rackham has been two or three times a day +when you were bad. Of course it was his horse that did the mischief. +He would not be satisfied without seeing Susan----" + +"Did you see him?" asked Barnaby. There was something a little odd in +his intonation. + +"Susan see anybody?" exclaimed his mother. "She had eyes for nobody +but her patient. All the wild horses in Rackham's stables would not +drag her away from you.--He's thinking of going abroad for a bit, he +says. To America, or Canada;--he confused me with his talk of cities +and mines and mountains. I don't know if he has any idea of making a +fortune there or if he is looking out for a lady. I said you might +have to go out there too, but the unfortunate accident had postponed +it,--and he said it was a bigger place than I fancied, but to let him +know if he could be of any use to you. His manner was rather queer." + +"Poor chap," said Barnaby. "I daresay he is hard up. It would have +been lucky for him if I--Why, what is the matter, Susan?" + +"Don't tease her," said Lady Henrietta. "You can't possibly realize +what a fright she had!" She turned briskly to the girl, however. "We +never heard any more of that mysterious telegram that was to carry you +off so quickly the day Barnaby was hurt," she said. "Have you quite +forgotten it? Does absolutely nothing matter to you but him?" + +Barnaby had begun to laugh, weakly, uncontrollably. + +"Oh, that will keep," he said. + +"What do you know about it?" said Lady Henrietta, catching him up +sharply. "It came when you were out. I understood she was looking for +you when she witnessed your smash. And I'm convinced it has never +entered her head from that day to this." + +Then she remembered her heap of letters. + +"Look at all these!" she cried. "All begging for news of him! And the +offerings! There never was anything so romantic.... There's one old +woman down in the village that's killed her pig and, Barnaby--she sent +up a delicate bit in a dish for you." + +"Romantic--?" said Barnaby. + +"Oh, romance has singular manifestations," said Lady Henrietta. "You +never know.... There was that girl of Bessy's, for example, who used +to write poetry.--She was too romantic, poor thing, and that's why she +never married.--She went in for hero-worship. Used to go into kind of +trances of adoration over a famous soldier that she had never seen. +And once I tumbled over her sitting on the hearth-rug with her hands +clasped behind her head, gazing with a rapt expression into the fire. +I thought she was fighting his battles with him in her imagination, or +poetising; but she whispered--'Don't interrupt me! I'm darning his +socks.--'" + +She was turning over her letters. + +"Here's one for you, Susan," she said. "It's a London postmark. A big +hotel, but rather a common hand." + +Susan took it indifferently. Lady Henrietta was already plunged in the +midst of a family letter; wherein an aunt of Barnaby's was presuming to +offer her advice. She read out bits of it with little shrieks of scorn. + +"'When Toby broke his leg I made a point of----' Who cares what folly +she committed when Toby broke his leg? 'I do hope, Henrietta, you see +that the doctors do not permit the poor boy's wife to be in and out of +the sick-room. It irritates the nurses.' ... Ah, but ours is a +romantic sick-room! If _we_ had married a fool like Charlotte's +daughter-in-law--!" + +She glanced up smiling at the other two. Providence, not she, had +taken the field; and she had faith in its workings as efficacious. But +Susan was not attending. She was reading her letter still. "My dear," +said Lady Henrietta, "who is the common person?" + +But she got no answer. + +"Come! Tell us," said Barnaby; and at his voice Susan started. + +"Somebody I--used to know," she said. + +Lady Henrietta had returned to her own correspondence. Her mild +curiosity could wait until the girl had finished deciphering the almost +illegible scrawl. + +"You might straighten the pillows for me," said Barnaby. + +She tore the letter across and threw it into the fire. Then she came +over to him and did what he wanted with a jealous eagerness that was +new. + +"Was it a worrying letter?" he said, in a low voice. He had nothing to +do but look at her. + +"No," she said, "it didn't worry me." But her tone was subdued, too +quiet, as if she had had a shock. + +"I'm eternally grateful to you for burning it, though," he said; "that +abominable scent it reeked with was like a whiff of nightmare. I seem +to remember it. I wonder where I can have run across a woman who +advertised herself like that.... I'm glad you burnt it. Considerate +nurse. It was the only thing to do." + +She was grateful to him for not insisting. Not yet, not yet; not just +this morning! ... Afterwards she would tell him.... She moved away +from his side and picked up a newspaper from the pile that lay with the +letters. + +"Do you know what you look like?" said Lady Henrietta, tapping her +cheek. "Like a child that has been startled, like a child when an +unkind shake has scattered its house of cards." + +It was true. But such a tottering house, such a dream-built, +precarious house of cards!-- + +Lady Henrietta dropped her voice, ostensibly to communicate a paragraph +in the aunt's letter that was unsuited to the profane masculine +understanding. + +"I don't want to pry," she said; "but was that by any chance an +anonymous letter?" + +"Oh, no, no, it was not," said Susan. + +"Not Julia's hand disguised? That woman is capable of anything. She's +been here several times inquiring. Sending in brazen messages!--" + +"Is there anything in the paper?" said Barnaby. + +Susan glanced hastily up and down the sheet. No, there was nothing. +Among the theatrical announcements an American play that had come to +London. + +"She is looking in the advertisements!" said Lady Henrietta, +affectionately scornful. "My dear, the poor boy is thirsting for +murders and politics." + +The advertisements.... And among them---- + + +"_To-night at 8._ + +"_The Great American Comedy--'Shut Your Windows' ... Mr. Rostiman's +Company. Mr. Hayes, Mr. Vine..._" (a long list of names that were +unknown to her, and unmeaning);--"_And Miss Adelaide Fish_." + + * * * * * + +Barnaby was up and dressed. + +He was much amused at his own weakness, at his dependence on that slim, +supporting arm. He let Susan settle him carefully in a chair, and then +frightened her by getting on to his feet and pretending to walk out of +the room. She flew to him, scared, reproachful, making him lean his +weight on her shoulder as she brought him back. + +"Tyrannical girl!" he said. + +She looked down on him as he sat there, dressed and shaved, his clothes +fitting rather loosely, his blue eyes hollow. How unspeakably dear he +was. How hard to face emptiness.... + +"I'll put your mother in charge of you while I am gone," she said. + +"Don't be too long," said Barnaby. "I'll miss you." + +Unwillingly her heart sank. He would miss her. In that little while; +in that scant half-hour--! + +"Patient," she said, "you flatter." + +And smiled at him bravely, and went away. + + +"I'll go to him immediately," said Lady Henrietta. She was writing +furiously, despatching a counterblast to the aunt's interfering letter, +which had contained more warnings than she had read aloud. It deserved +six pages. + +"How do you spell inseparable?" she asked, hardly interrupting the +delightful business of administering a slap to one whose +daughters-in-law were not wax and whose sons were wild. Distractedly +she glanced at Susan. + +"You look wan," she said. "I told them you were to have the motor with +the hood off. Get all the air you can. Do you mind taking this old +brooch into the town to be mended?" Her eyes twinkled as she unpinned +it and put it in Susan's hand. + +"There!" she said, "that will make sure you don't hurry back too soon, +pretending you have had your breath of air." + +The girl went into her own room and slipped on a hat and coat. While +she tied a veil round her head she remembered that in the diamond star, +which was the only thing in the house that was her own, a stone was +loose. Since she must go in to the jeweller's on Lady Henrietta's +trumped-up errand she might as well take it with her. + +The motor was not round when she descended, and she sank into one of +the deep chairs in the hall. When she was away from Barnaby the +strength in her seemed to fail. It had been heavily tried, and the +strain was telling on her, now that it was relaxed. + +The tan that had been scattered on the avenue still deadened the sound +of wheels. But she saw Macdonald, who was waiting to pack her into the +car, moving to the door; and rising, she went towards it. She had not +time to draw back as she saw her mistake, for Julia was on the steps. + +Swift in seizing her opportunity the visitor walked in at the open +door. There was something belligerent in her entrance. + +"How is he?" she asked, without preamble, addressing Susan. Macdonald +had fallen back discreetly. + +"He is better," said Susan coldly. "I have to go out, Miss Kelly." + +"I must see him," said Julia, in a low, intense voice that would not be +denied. "I've tried and tried, but they never would let me in. You +will take me to him." + +"_I?_" said Susan. + +Julia did not blench under these accents of proud surprise. + +"Yes," she said. "You daren't refuse me. I know too much." + +The assurance in her voice warned the girl that this was no hysterical +vapouring, but a challenge. She answered her bravely, maintaining an +outward calm. + +"I am sorry I cannot do as you wish," she said. + +How lovely the woman was, with her angry flush, and her long-lashed +eyes. How recklessly she spoke. Some theatrical impulse in her had +overridden prudence; whoever liked might have heard her.... With that +odd irrelevance that keeps the mind steady under fire Susan was +wondering who it was that had said--"Yes, she's a beauty, but the back +of her neck is common----" + +"You have no right to keep us apart," said Julia. "I've been patient +... but this is too much! After all I'm not stone; I'm a woman--With +all the world gabbling about you and your devotion--! I daresay you +think you are getting an influence over him. Poor Barnaby--! All this +while you have had him at your mercy!" + +She fixed her eyes on Susan with an indescribable stare of scorn. + +"Will you take me to him?" she said. + +"I will not," said Susan. + +Julia came nearer. They were practically alone. Macdonald was putting +rugs in the motor. + +"I believe you are fond of him," she said ruthlessly. "Fond of him! +You the cheat, you the impostor--!" + +Ah,--she had known what was coming. She had read it in Julia's eyes. +Desperately she stood her ground. + +"You insulted me once before," she said slowly. + +"Yes," said Julia. "Even then I was not blinded.... But now I know. +I've known ever since the Hunt Ball, when Barnaby----" + +"Barnaby--?" Susan repeated the word under her breath as if it was +strange to her. + +"--When Barnaby said that you were not his wife." + +The girl stretched out her hands unconsciously for a support that she +did not find. There was a mist between them, and she swayed on her +feet. Weak in spirit and body from her long nursing, she felt as if +someone had struck her a whirling blow. In a kind of vision she saw +Barnaby and Julia dancing;--always Barnaby and Julia dancing;--people +had talked that night; they had sympathized with her.... Well might +Julia laugh at her disapproving world if he had whispered--that! And +it was true. She had only to look in Julia's triumphant face to know +that this thing was true. + +She could not speak. She turned and walked slowly towards the stairs, +and began to go up. On the landing above she waited until Julia had +reached her side. Then she went along the corridor without turning her +head until they had come to the end. + +At Barnaby's door she stopped and, turning the handle, spoke at last to +the other woman, the woman to whom he had betrayed her. + +"Go to him," she said. + +And without another word she left her, and left the house. + + +Barnaby looked up, surprised. + +Susan must have started, and Lady Henrietta would not open his door so +slowly. Who was this rustling on his threshold? + +She took a little run into the room, and stopped. + +"Oh, Barnaby!" she cried emotionally. "At last--!" + +His unresponsiveness was thrown away on her excited mood. Flushed with +victory she misread his expression, less like rapture than +consternation. + +"This is a bit unexpected," he said. "I'm not in very good form, +Julia. I'm afraid I must ask you to excuse me--" + +"Was I too sudden?" she said. "Ah, poor Barnaby; how you are +altered;--how ill you look! Let me do something for you--" + +She rushed at him with enthusiasm, casting a glance around her for +illumination, and he could but smile at her hasty gesture, not yet +grasping its full significance, not realizing the jealous +self-assertion that lay behind her bewildering readiness to push him +back in his chair, to shake up his pillows, to administer some potion. + +"I don't want anything, thanks," he said. He was still grappling with +the problem of her appearance. + +"Oh--" she cried, desisting, "to think of you, helpless all this time, +and in the hands of that woman--!" + +"Are you speaking of my wife?" he said. + +Julia laughed softly, reproachfully, and let her eyes rest on his. + +"Foolish man!" she said. "You might have trusted me. Think what I've +had to endure! Wasn't I punished enough for that ancient +misunderstanding? Did you think I was so vindictive that you dared not +confide in me? But I would have shared your burdens. For your sake I +could even forgive your mother." + +What was she driving at? His mouth set in a stiff line that might have +warned her if she had not been so sure. + +"I meant to wait," she said, "to pretend I was ignorant like the rest; +to hug the secret till you struggled out of that wicked tangle and came +to me. I understand you so well. I knew for whose sake you were +trying to avoid a scandal. Oh, Barnaby, how mad it was--and how like +you--!" + +"Julia," he said, "what do you mean?" + +She missed the dangerous note in his voice, too quiet. + +"I'm not angry with you--now," she said caressingly. "But, Barnaby, +was it fair to me? People are so uncharitable ... they talked cruelly +about us. And if I hadn't known that she was not your wife,--if I +hadn't known you were free----" + +"That's a mistake," he said grimly. "I am not free." + +She stared at him. So great was her gift of illusion, so invincible +the vanity that in her was the breath of life, that she had put down +his stiffness, his strangeness, to the effort to keep his feelings in +control. The glad shock of her visit must have been almost too much +for him. But what was that he was saying? + +"Oh," she burst out. "Don't tell me she has entrapped you! That's +what I was afraid of; that's why I felt I must see you at all risks, in +spite of all opposition. I knew she would try to take advantage of +your weakness while you were her prisoner, while you lay here at her +mercy, no match for her--!" + +No, he was not strong yet. His forehead was wet and his mouth was dry. +He had a curious longing to find himself back in that cool bed yonder. + +"Oh, for God's sake," he cried. "Stop talking nonsense!" + +His adjuration checked her passionate speech. She remained gazing. + +"I don't know," he said slowly, "how you got hold of +your--hallucination. I don't know on what grounds you are making +that--accusation. Did I hear you say that Susan was not my wife? +Don't repeat it." + +Julia drew a quick breath of amazement. + +"Barnaby!" she gasped, in an incredulous, startled voice. + +"Don't repeat it," he said stubbornly. Yes, the old fire was +extinguished, the old spell shattered. And still she gazed at him, +unable to comprehend. All at once she began to laugh. + +"She did not deny it!" she said. "At first she tried to keep me from +you, but when I told her I knew all,--that you had confessed it +yourself,--she was beaten. Oh, anybody who saw her face would have +known the truth!" + +She was frightened then. His eyes were so blue and blazing. + +"You told Susan," he repeated, "that I--that _I_ had said she was not +my wife?" + +"Yes," she said, still defiant, but quailing a little before his look. + +He stood up. He was regarding her with an expression that held no +memories of the past. It was all blotted out; no trampled passion, no +hidden tenderness stirred in him to excuse her. + +"If you were not a woman--!" he said, in an implacable tone that was +unknown to her.--"You had better go." + + * * * * * + +"What a monster I am!" said Lady Henrietta. "How neglectful!--Was I +more than five minutes? You'd have rung if you'd wanted me, wouldn't +you? Poor boy, were you very dull?" + +"It's nearly time for her to come back," he said. + +He was looking tired. Getting up had not done him good. Feeling +somewhat guilty his mother sat down to amuse him and make up for her +lapse by half an hour's brisk attention. + +Somehow his curious depression affected her. She, too, began to listen +for the motor. + +"I told her not to hurry back," she said apologetically, as time went +by. "She's been doing far too much. If she doesn't take care of +herself now you're better, she will break down." + +"Wasn't that the car?" said Barnaby. + +But no light step came hurrying up the stairs. + +"I'll ask," said Lady Henrietta, and rang. The servant who came knew +nothing, and was sent down to make inquiries. She was puzzled by the +report. + +"I can't understand this!" she said. "Barnaby--they say the car has +come back without her." + +His look alarmed her. She jumped up quickly. + +"I'll see the man myself," she said; "it must be some ridiculous +blunder." + +She was a long time downstairs. When she came back she was bewildered +and indignant. + +"They tell me," she said, "that Julia Kelly has been; that she saw +Susan before she went out----" + +"She came up here," said Barnaby. + +"So the servants tell me," she said. "I can hardly believe it--! And +the man says that Susan made him drive her straight to the station. He +heard her ask when there was a train to London. There is no message--" + +Anger was struggling in her voice with apprehension. She looked +suspiciously at her son. + +"Barnaby--" she said emphatically, "if this is Julia's doing--I'll +never forgive either of you!" + +He had got on his feet, and stood uncertainly, as if measuring his +strength. The look on his face struck her into silence. + +"Don't couple me with Julia," he said, setting his teeth. The sweat +was glistening like dew on his forehead. "Poor little girl ... poor +little girl.... So she's gone. Why, what's the matter with me? What +an incapable fool I am!--How am I to go and find her if I +can't--walk--straight across a room--?" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +All London was placarded with that American play. + +It ran through the streets in big letters on the omnibuses; it walked +in tilting lines in the gutter; it stared out from all the hoardings +with the wide smile of its principal actress ... Adelaide Fish. + +And it was the gaudy poster that startled Susan out of the unhappy +listlessness that had fallen on her. Facing her suddenly it arrested +her wandering step. + +Adelaide Fish.... Had the world stood still after all, and was it this +morning that she had had a letter...? + +"Hideously inartistic," said one passer-by to another. + +"Still she's handsome. I've seen her. One of these big women----" + +Yes, it was inartistic. Reds and blues and greens in vivid splashes, +and the name writ large. A marvellous jump from the bankrupt shifts of +the Tragedy Company to this smiling elevation. And Barnaby was still +ignorant. He had not been warned. + +She thought of him now. The passionate shame that had caught her up +like a flame sweeping all before it had died out. She felt only a kind +of wonder at herself, looking back. It was inevitable. The impossible +situation could only have ended so.... But in the background all the +while was the woman. + +She tried to shake off the lassitude of despair. Why had she burned +the letter? She had been going to tell Barnaby, although the writer +had forbidden her to share its contents with him. It would have been +simpler to let him--but no, she could never have put that letter into +his hands. Hard enough to look him in the face and tell him what she +could repeat;--that the woman who was his wife, the one in whose +likeness she had been masquerading, had written, and was in England. +But before she had spoken Julia had intervened and the waters of +bitterness had closed over her head. + +Barnaby must not be left in the dark. She had a wild and sudden +longing to do something for him still; one last service. She could +find out from this woman what were her intentions towards him and if it +were a threat or a promise that had lurked in that ambiguous letter. + +She must ask somebody where she was. For the first time she realized +her surroundings, the roar of the traffic, the restless street. + + * * * * * + +Outside the theatre an interminable train of people, wedged tightly, +endured with their faces turned towards the gallery stair; another +line, reaching far down the pavement and less good-humoured, guarded +the entrance to the pit. The lights falling on their faces threw up a +singular likeness in expression, a kind of touch-me-not attitude that +defied their physical juxtaposition. Squeezed like herrings, their +pained endurance was heightened by the universal lack of a smile. And +the lines were haunted by a street musician strumming his lamentable +tune. + +As Susan went up the dark entry she was pursued by unfriendly glances, +the quick suspicion that she was a late comer who must be turned back +ignominiously in her base attempt to push in at the head of the line. +As she vanished inside the stage door there was an interested murmur; +here and there a man unbent and asked his neighbour which of them she +was. Then there was a click and the crowd went surging forward. The +doors were open. + +Miss Fish was in her dressing-room. + +Like one in a dream the girl was breathing that familiar atmosphere of +the theatre. It seemed to shut off for ever all that was yesterday. +She stumbled into a little room violently scented, full of blinding +light. And a woman swung round and seized her hands. + +"There you are!" she said. "I can't kiss you--my face is sticky. I've +sent away my dresser. Wait till I shut that door!" + +She made a dash and secured it, then pushed Susan into a chair. + +"I'll have to make up while I talk," she said. "Go on; go on. I'm mad +with curiosity! I am dying to hear it all." + +"I had your letter," said Susan. + +Adelaide laughed. Her warm voice had a note of banter. + +"I didn't know but you had waxed fat like Jeshurun," she said. "Wasn't +it he that kicked?--So I wrote that letter. I had to see you. You +burnt it? You didn't tell him?" + +"He does not know you are here," said Susan. "He has been ill." Her +heart was beating painfully hard; the air in this close little room was +suffocating her. It was not air.... + +"Yes?" said Adelaide. "That's how I know about you. My dear, don't +tell me! I picked up a picture paper and saw a piece about him and his +accident, and his devoted American wife!--I'd so often wondered what +became of you. It's tremendous!" + +There was admiration in her gaze as she turned unwillingly from her +visitor to the glass, smearing her chin as she talked. "I did hear of +him being alive," she said. "I saw that in one of our papers, 'English +Gentleman Comes Back from the Grave' and so on. I _was_ scared when I +thought of you. They said what a joy it was to his wife and his +mother, and I thought they had been too hasty. But there was never a +word more, though I watched the paper. I decided he must have walked +into the offices here and said--'I do not desire you to mention +this'--I'd heard it was done sometimes by the upper classes. But--!" + +Again her face expressed unqualified admiration. "You must have had a +nerve," she said, "you poor kitten!" + +The girl sprang up, her mouth proud, her eyes imploring. + +"Adelaide," she said, "you were good to me once, you--you tried to help +me. Won't you believe me when I tell you I am nothing to him? It was +all acting, all acting from beginning to end. Never real, never what +you said in your letter. I was only staying in his house +playing--that--part till I could disappear without scandal." + +"What?" said the woman bluntly. "Has he never said to you--'If I can +free myself of the other I'll marry you?'" + +"Oh, never; never!" + +"Then," said Adelaide, "it's not for your sake his lawyers are getting +busy, trying to find what they call flaws, trying to break his +marriage? They can try.... You didn't know?" + +She turned on the girl with a suddenness that took her unawares; read +her face. + +"He's not playing you fair!" she cried. + +It was remarkable, just then, how she resembled Julia. Half dressed as +she was, half made-up, her eyes darkened, and scorn on her carmined lip. + +"I'll give you a hold over him," she said. "I'll stand by you. Wasn't +it all my doing? Who's that knocking?--You can't come in." + +Good-nature was back as she turned from the interruption. She smiled +indulgently, as one who was hoarding a gift. + +"I wouldn't lift a finger for him," she said. "But I'm silly over you. +I'll tell you. And you can go back to him and make your bargain." + +The girl shut her lips hard. She must listen;--for Barnaby's sake she +must listen. The shamed colour ebbed in her cheek. + +"I'm not mad, or bad,--at least not to speak of," said Adelaide, "but +I'm careless.... Oh, I'll give you your Englishman, child; you needn't +look so stricken! I once had a kind of a romance myself. When I was a +young thing like you I married myself to a shabby little poet. But I +grew tired of him muttering verses and dreaming things upside down; and +we had a divorce, and I ran and left him and went on the stage. And +all the while that little man kept on writing; and when he'd used up +all his poetry, and all the dead kings and queens, he woke up and wrote +a play." + +A queer pride, not unmixed with tenderness, came into her voice at that. + +"What do you think?" she said. "Nothing would move him but that they +should find me out and give me the star part. 'I have had her in my +mind all these years,' he said, 'and it is she. No one but she shall +play it.'--All these years that I had forgotten him, he was building me +a ladder--." + +She laughed abruptly, banishing sentiment. + +"I've done all the talking," she said, "and I must, while you sit there +dumb with your big eyes asking me if it's to be the dagger or the bowl. +D'you remember when I was Queen Eleanor, and you were the Rosamond, and +the boys nearly shouted the roof down, begging you not to drink? Ah, +those times, they were funny. I've shot up since, like a rocket into +the sky." + +Time was running out. Somewhere in the distance there was a blare of +music. She had finished making up, and she must let in her dresser. + +"Listen to me," she said. "His people haven't the clues to connect a +Phemie Watson they never heard of with Adelaide Fish. You'll have the +start of them. Make your terms; make your terms before James and I go +to housekeeping again.... I daresay he'd never find it out for +himself. About that divorce--it was never fixed. The lawyer wanted to +go duck-shooting, and I was gone, and James,--why, they're +unbusiness-like, these poets!--he says he had always hugged an +inextinguishable spark----" + +She paused, looking impatiently at her listener, who was so silent. + +"Don't you understand?" she said. "I'm no more Mrs. John Barnabas Hill +than you are. If you're wise you'll make him marry you to-morrow." + + * * * * * + +Susan did not know which way to turn when she was in the street. It +seemed much darker; it seemed as if she were lost. + +She walked blindly on and on. The people were ghosts that were +streaming by; their faces that gleamed and passed did not lighten her +terrible loneliness. A straw in that human river, she was afraid. + +There was a post-office on the other side of the street. She almost +ran to it, unconscious of the swift perils of the crossing. + +For she must write to Barnaby, and the thought of communicating with +him, poignant as it was, had a strange touch of comfort. The bare +office became a harbour. + +They gave her a letter card, and she wrote at the counter, with the +scratching office pen. That was why it was so ill written. It was +ridiculous how such a trifle hurt her. Was it not the first and last +time she would ever write to him, and did it matter how badly, since it +was to tell him that there was no bar between him and Julia? ... + +He would be glad to have it.... + +She held it fast an instant before letting it fall into the yawning +slit. She liked holding it in her hand, because it was a link between +her and all that lay behind that curtain of loneliness; because it was +going to him. In a little while he would touch it, would wonder, +perhaps, at the unknown hand, hat poor scribble--! She dropped it in +and it went like her own life into the dark. + +For awhile she hurried, fighting her choking terror of the emptiness +that was left. Why was it worse now than it used to be? She had been +in strange cities, she had been friendless.... And somewhere behind in +the glitter that mocked the darkness there was still one person who +would help her, if she asked help; who would be kind to her lavishly, +without understanding. She did not ask herself why it was impossible +to turn in her rudderless flight and appeal to the woman from whom she +had tried to guard her heart. There was a gulf between her and +Adelaide. Little by little the fear driving her seemed to fail, and +all other emotions grew indistinct, crushed by an infinite weight of +fatigue. At last she could not think, could not suffer. She only +wanted to go to sleep. + + * * * * * + +It was a frost in Leicestershire. There would be no hunting. + +That first irrelevant thought struck Susan as she felt the sharpness of +the air breathing in on her face. The narrow window above her head had +been propped a little way open with a hair-brush, and the curtain that +divided her bed from the next was agitated; she had a neighbour who was +astir. + +With her eyes shut the girl imagined the grass frozen white, and the +branches silver; heard the rapping trot of a string of hunters +exercising in the long road beneath the park. + +But this was not Leicestershire; it was London, and she was lying in a +narrow bed in a small square attic. At the foot stood a washing stand, +with a jug and basin, at the head a chest of drawers. There was not +room for a chair. + +Was it last night she had followed a stranger bearing a candle up +flights and flights of uncarpeted wooden stairs? The weariness of that +pilgrimage obliterated her stupefied sense of relief when the kind, +worn woman had consented to take her in, her absurd inclination to sink +down on the chair in the passage and fall asleep. She had thought she +would never, never cease climbing stairs. + +She remembered now. + +Lady Henrietta had asked her once, when she and Barnaby had run up for +the day to London, to call on an old governess who was ill. "In a sort +of lodging-house," she had said. "One of these places where women live +in hutches and eat in the basement." And the dreariness of it had +haunted her. Somehow she had found her way there again. The old +governess was gone, but the manageress recalled her face. They would +not have taken her in without luggage at an hotel. + +With that came the recollection that she was penniless. The few chance +shillings that she had with her she had spent on her railway ticket. +She remembered thinking of that in the train;--she remembered finding +Lady Henrietta's battered brooch that she had pinned in her dress to +take to the jeweller,--and the diamond star that was the one thing she +had to sell. Ah, that was between her and destitution. She started +up. What had she done with it? She had been too utterly weary to +think or care. + +The draught was beating the dingy dividing curtain that swung on its +iron rod; it bulged like a sail over the top of the chest of drawers, +sweeping it clear; and it parted, giving a glimpse of a girl beyond +with the star in her hands. She started. + +"I was just putting it back," she said. "The curtain knocked it off on +my side. How it sparkles!" + +Susan stretched out her fingers, a little too eagerly. + +"You needn't be so sharp," said the girl, disconcerted. "I could buy +heaps like it for a shilling apiece at a shop in the Edgware Road," and +she threw it back carelessly, and began to whistle to show she was not +abashed. + +She had a plain, good-humoured, impudent face and dusty hair. On her +arms she wore a pair of black stockings with the feet cut off, fastened +by safety pins to her under bodice. She was tying her petticoat. + +"I want to sell this," said Susan. In her loneliness she was loth to +offend a stranger.--"But I hope I shall get more than a shilling for +it." + +"I'll give you three," said the girl, and then was all at once smitten +with awe. "I say--you don't mean to say it's real?" + +Her off-hand manner became subdued; she looked curiously but +respectfully at Susan. + +"You came here unexpectedly, didn't you?" she said. "Did you know you +had slept all Sunday? Mrs. White said you were dead tired, and that +you were a lady. I'll lend you my brush, if you like;--and a bit of +soap." + +Susan smiled at this proof of confidence. + +"I'll shut the window, shall I?" the girl went on, letting it slam as +she withdrew the hair-brush. "I was airing my bed. I always make it +before I go down because I'm anaemic, and I've no breath to run up all +these flights of stairs after breakfast.--If you want to be private you +can pull the curtain." + +That was the one thing she would not willingly do for her; with her own +hands shut out the view of one so mysterious. + +The other sleepers were stirring behind their enshrouding folds, like +hidden moths preparing to burst from the chrysalis. In one quarter +after another the heavy breathing was cut short by an awaking sigh. +One or two emerged with their jugs and padded barefoot to the hot-water +tap on the landing. + +"I'll get you a jugful, shall I?" said Susan's friend, and having +installed herself as mistress of the ceremonies, returned to the +subject of the star. + +"Mind you don't try a pawnbroker," she said. "If you take my advice +you'll walk into the swaggerest shop in Bond Street, where they are +used to ladies." + +"Why?" asked Susan. + +The girl assumed a great air of worldly wisdom, cocking her head on one +side like a London sparrow. + +"Oh," she said, "_they_ won't be so likely to lose their heads over +you, and perhaps ask you how you got it." + +She had not considered that. Her dismayed look gratified the girl, who +at once adopted the manner of a protector. + +"You'll be all right," she said. "They'll know the difference in the +Bond Street shops. It wouldn't do in the City." + + * * * * * + +She had been in a jeweller's shop with Barnaby once, and it was in Bond +Street. If she could find it ... the girl's suggestion had made her +nervous; she would have more courage in going where she had been with +him. Would they eye her askance even there? Would they make +difficulties, ask questions? The thought harassed her. + +She lingered a minute outside the shop, when she had found it; gazing +into the glittering window, so preoccupied with her errand that it +never entered her head that there might be anyone who would recognize +her among the idle people that were abroad. Defending herself by a +haughty carriage she took a long breath and went inside. + + +"How are you?" + +She started as violently as if she had been a thief. She had never +expected to meet this man again; and there he was, holding her limp +hand in his. + +"I saw you over the way," he said, "and plunged in here to catch you +and ask about Barnaby. How is he getting on?" + +At first she thought it must be in merciless irony he was speaking, and +plucked up a spirit to defy him. He had glanced from her face to the +counter; he was a witness of her singular transaction. She felt his +glance burn her. What was he thinking of it? + +"Oh, he is getting on very well," she said recklessly. + +"Is he up here with you?" said Rackham. Was it possible that he did +not know?--She gasped. + +"No," she stammered. And now he looked at her more strangely. She was +gathering up the price of her star and turning to leave the shop. They +had made no demur; they had given her more than she dared to expect.... + +"Which way are you going?" said Rackham. + +"Your way isn't mine," she said. + +He was keeping at her side; she could not outstrip his strides with her +flying little steps. + +"But I want to talk to you," he said boldly. "You were a little beside +yourself, weren't you, at our last meeting? I've not seen you since +Barnaby's accident.... You blamed me for it, didn't you? My dear +girl, if I had wanted to murder him I wouldn't have been so +clumsy.--What are you doing in London all by yourself?" + +That last question came suddenly, just when his bantering speech had +roused her, and put her off her guard. He was watching her face; and +it blanched. + +"What's the trouble?" he said. "Confound--!" + +He had cannoned into another man, whose approaching figure he had not +marked. It was Kilgour, in London clothes, who blocked the way, with a +growl for Rackham and a friendly hand-grip for Susan. + +"Who's the man charging?" he grumbled. "Though you can't see daylight +through me, still I'm not a bullfinch. Come along, Mrs. Barnaby; you +are just the person I want. I've been praying my gods for a +sympathetic eye. Come and look at my masterpiece in the window." + +His large presence was a safeguard. She could have clung to him. + +"Half Leicestershire is in Bond Street in a frost," he said. "I knew +I'd run across somebody. I've been up myself since Friday. But what +is Barnaby doing in town? What do the doctors say?" + +What a fool she had been not to have dreaded this. Half Leicestershire +in Bond Street! And she had fled to London, the great, engulfing +city--! She could have laughed wildly at herself, at her childish want +of precaution, her romantic imprudence in haunting places where she had +been with him, where it was so likely that she would meet his +acquaintances. But what would he think of her when he heard that she +had been seen....? + +Mechanically she walked on a few paces. Rackham was still at her right +hand; he would not be shaken off. And Kilgour was talking in his loud, +kind, friendly voice; taking it for granted that Barnaby and she were +in town together. He did not guess that she was a runaway. + +"It came to me in a vision on the top of Burrough Hill," he said. +"Rain and mist and the setting sun.... A kind of greyish-black +gauziness with a stripe of crimson. There! What do you think of that?" + +With a grandiloquent gesture he pointed out a diminutive grey and black +turban throned in solitary majesty in the middle of a shop-window. His +shop; his personal achievement. A quaint pride sat on his good red +face, roughened by wind and weather. It was somewhat akin to the pride +great men feel in doing little things. The big successes in life are +too overweighting; they oppress a man with the memory of his struggle, +the long strain, the effort,--the troubling secret of how he has fallen +short. Kilgour might have swelled with pride over greater matters, but +when he thought of them he was humble.... He wagged a delighted +forefinger at his creation, boasting. + +"There isn't much of it," said Rackham. + +Susan was between the two men; she felt like a caught bird that dared +not flutter, and she had still a frantic desire to laugh. + +"That's it," said Kilgour. "No feminine exaggeration. It's all idea +and no trimming, instead of all trimmings and no idea. And as light as +a feather. I tried it on myself." + +She _was_ laughing; not at the absurd image his speech called up, not +at the picture of this bluff sportsman gravely regarding himself in a +mirror, balancing his insecure idea on his close-cropped head;--but at +the tragic absurdity of her own position. How little they knew, these +men! + +"Good-bye," she said. "I--I am in a hurry." + +"Just wait a minute," said Kilgour. "There's another point in its +favour. If you are in a hurry you can clap it on hind-before. Wait a +bit and let me illustrate what I mean. Two or three doors up. You +know this place? It's my rival _Jane_. Now, impartially, let's pick +these hats to pieces." + +But she interrupted his scientific disparagement rather wildly. She +had not known how much she liked him, Barnaby's friend who might have +talked to her of him if she had dared to loiter just for the sake of +hearing his name spoken now and then.... She held out her hand to him +wistfully. + +"Good-bye, Lord Kilgour," she said hurriedly. "Good-bye!" + +He squeezed the little hand kindly, not uttering his surprise till she +had vanished from his ken. + +"Bolted into the very shop!" he said. "How like a woman. Next time I +meet her she'll have one of these monstrosities on her head." + +He nodded carelessly at Rackham, to whom Susan had bidden no farewell, +and strolled on, hailing his acquaintances, looking in the shops. +Turning into Piccadilly he saw a face he knew coming towards him in a +hansom, and raised his stick. + +"Thought it was you," he said. "You don't look very fit to be out. +What do you mean by it? I told your wife you had no business racketing +in London." + +The hansom had stopped. Barnaby was leaning out, staring at him. + +"What did you say?" he asked. There was an incredulous eagerness in +his voice. + +"Eh?" said Kilgour, struck by his looks, and sorry. "Barnaby, old +chap, you ought to be in bed. What's up? You haven't come to town to +consult any fancy doctors? No complications, are there? It's +generally when a fellow is mending that they crop up." + +"No, it's not doctors," said Barnaby. "Look here, Kilgour----" + +"Seems to me," said Kilgour, "as if you had been roped in by Christian +Science. Don't you know what a battered-looking ghost you are?" + +"I'm all right," said Barnaby impatiently. "Just answer me, Kilgour. +What did you mean by saying you told my wife----?" + +"I wasn't meddling," said Kilgour sagely, "I was offering a rational +opinion----" + +"Oh, stop fooling!" said Barnaby. "Do you mean you saw her?" + +The other man was puzzled by the urgent note in his voice. Then he +laughed. + +"Missed her have you?" he said. "Oh, yes, you fractious invalid,--I +saw her." + +"When?" + +There was no mistaking it. Barnaby was in earnest. For the second +time Kilgour had a twinge, an uncomfortable recollection of a brown +leather arm-chair in Wimpole Street and long white fingers handling one +or two queer little scientific dodges that pried into hidden things. +Once he had had to go with a friend. It had turned him sick, that +minute or two of waiting in dead silence to hear the verdict.... Had +Barnaby been there? ... He shook off the unwelcome fancy. If he knew +anything of that girl she would not let Barnaby go into a lions' den +without her. + +"Half an hour ago," he said. "With your cousin in attendance. I met +them coming out of What's-his-name's,--that jeweller's shop in Bond +Street." + +"What?" said Barnaby. He looked like a man whose wits were staggering +under a mortal blow. Then his mouth set hard, in a fighting line. + +"Bond Street," he called up the trap to the driver, and the hansom +dashed jingling on. Kilgour was left marvelling on the kerb. + +"By Jove!" he said to himself, proceeding to cool his perturbation in +the peaceable atmosphere of his club, and stoutly refusing, though +troubled in mind, to draw the inevitable conclusion. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +Susan hardly knew how she reached the dreary place that was her refuge. +Meeting Rackham had shaken her. An unaccountable restlessness took +possession of her as she thought of him; she felt him pursuing her; she +had an impulse to run and run until she was hidden from the penetrating +intentness of his regard. In the shop whither she had fled she had +tried to argue with herself, but it had been useless. The relief with +which she had found herself for the moment free from him taught her too +much. + +She had glanced desperately backwards. He was not walking on with +Kilgour.... What did she want; what excuse had she for staying till he +was gone? She must buy something. Clothes for travelling;--was she +not going to America?--and she had nothing, not even a handkerchief. + +The suggestion steadied her. How soon could she sail? She must find +out at once; must engage her passage.--They had nothing but hats in +here, but an assistant directed her to another shop upstairs. + +Recklessly,--since the prices here were extravagant prices for one who +had only a handful of sovereigns between her and want,--she made +purchases. It seemed to quiet her silly agitation, to restore to her +something of her despairing calm. + +But when she issued into the street again panic ruled her. She could +not breathe freely until she was far from this dangerous neighbourhood, +until at last she was shut inside the gloomy house in a side street, +that barred out imaginary pursuers with the massive security of its +blistered door. + +But she must go out again; she must discover how quickly she could +sail:--perhaps she was missing an opportunity. + +The girl who had talked to her in the morning came in and brushed +against her as she passed in the dim hall. + +"Oh, it's you!" she said, stopping. "How dark it is in the passage! I +wish they'd light the gas. How did you get on? I found something else +of yours up there. It didn't look worth much, but it's no good leaving +things about, and there isn't a key in your chest of drawers." + +As she spoke she held out something. + +"They've been talking about you," she went on, "saying things about you +turning up at night without a bag or anything. They can't understand +you calling yourself Miss and wearing a wedding ring. I told them it +would be worse if you called yourself Mrs. and didn't.--You'll have to +get some things, won't you?" + +She looked inquisitively at Susan, who had sunk on to the hard wooden +chair in the hall, unable to face the stairs. But the mysterious +stranger was hardly attending to what she said, amounting as it did to +a declaration that she had found a supporter. Lady Henrietta's unlucky +brooch, that she had inadvertently taken with her, was just then a +precious thing. She remembered how Barnaby had laughed at his mother, +while she persisted in telling its history, and how she had vainly +tried once or twice to throw it away, but had given up. + +"I know it's bewitched," she had said. + +"It is always bringing me small misfortunes, but I have an uncanny +feeling that I mustn't part with it. Besides, I can't. It has fallen +in the fire, and been left in a railway carriage, and had all kinds of +mischances, but it has always come back to me. It's attached to me for +ever and ever. I don't know what would break the spell." + +Susan smiled a little as she gazed at that bit of dinted silver. Fate +had made an end of the superstition. Surely she might keep it, +valueless in itself, for the sake of the woman she would never see +again. Its unluckiness did not matter.... + +"Yes," she said vaguely. "I must go and get some things." + +What had the girl been saying? There was a kind of sympathy in her +face. + +"Would you come with me?" she asked, yielding to her instinctive need +of companionship. She could not go out alone.... + +"Rather!" said the girl. + +They set out, an ill-matched couple, flotsam that had drifted together, +and would as casually drift apart. The Londoner led the way +confidently, but surprised at Susan's first errand, the shipping +office. It heightened her interest, and she listened closely to the +stranger's eager inquiries. No, there was no room on the next boat +sailing. She could have a berth in the following steamer if she liked, +only three days later. But was there no boat to-morrow?--Oh, yes, but +no cabin accommodation. The traveller did not care. She would go +steerage. + +"You're in a dreadful hurry to sail, aren't you?" said the Londoner, to +whom the trip represented a tremendous voyage. + +Yes, she was in a hurry. + +"And you keep so close to me; you turn your head sometimes as if you +thought we were followed. What are you afraid of?" + +Susan tried to smile, but the truth was too near her lips. + +"A man," she said nervously, with her thoughts on Rackham. + +The other seemed to understand. She did not ask any more questions, +but was kind and useful, advising her, helping her, reminding her that +she must buy a trunk. Till they turned the last corner, and were +within a few yards of the Rabbit Warren, as this old inhabitant called +the house; then she hung back a little, glancing right and left. + +"You're not quite yourself, are you?" she said, consideringly. Her +eyes had the brightened gleam of one plunging alive into a serial tale, +one of these in which lords and ladies behave strangely and the +typewriting girl rules the tempest. As she put her key in the latch +she looked round again. But there were no untoward appearances dogging +them in the distance. There was a disappointing emptiness in the +street. + +The gas was lit in the hall at last, accentuating its gloom. The +rather dismal illumination fell on a mahogany table under the stair +where stood a row of candlesticks, each bearing a different length of +candle and a slip of paper. + +Susan's ally paused to examine them, reading out the names scribbled on +the slips. It was the custom for those who were to be out late to +leave their candles in the hall, and the last one in, finding a +solitary candlestick left downstairs, knew that it was her business to +chain the door. + +"Miss Shanklin, Miss Friend, Miss Mitchell--" read out the inquisitor. +"Mitchell is burnt down into the socket; she reads in bed. She'll set +us on fire one night.--Miss Robinson--that's me, but I've changed my +mind:--Miss Grahame--" + +Susan made no sign. Then she remembered.--That was her name again. + +"Oh, yes," she said, "is that mine?" + +The other girl nodded to herself. + +"Well," she said. "It's been brought down by mistake. Better take it +up with you; they don't turn the gas off till ten." + +She watched Susan go wearily up the long flights, and then ran swiftly +along the passage and called down to the basement. The boy who opened +the door to strangers and carried coals answered her call out of the +black gulf of the kitchen stair;--his eyes glittering, like a demon +invisible in the dark. + +"What are you ladies wanting now?" he asked in an injured voice--"You +can't have 'em!" + +"Gerald," said the girl mysteriously, "come up. Higher;--higher! If +anybody calls here asking for a lady, darkish, with grey eyes, and +middling tall,--never mind what name he says--! Don't breathe a word +of it, but fetch me." + +"Doesn't sound like you," said Gerald, but grinned, diving backwards +into his native gloom. + +Miss Robinson turned from the basement stairs and began her long +journey to the top of the house. No, wild horses would not drag her +out that night. Did they always write down a traveller's address at +the shipping office? Supposing it were her lot to draw two sundered +hearts together? + + +The Rabbit Warren was a depressing house. As the day waned its +dreariness increased; it grew fuller of tired women whose search for +work had been useless, and who came trudging in with the twilight to +join the rest who had been listening all day with straining ears for +the postman, while they studied ceaselessly the advertisement sheets in +the daily paper. + +It was chiefly the incapable, the discouraged, those who had fallen out +of the ranks through ill health, or were losing their hold because they +were not any longer young, who drifted into this harbour. They were +all in a manner waifs, and they had nothing to hope for but that they +might die in harness. + +Susan sat with her cheek on her hand, withdrawn a little, in the dingy +sitting room. She was unconscious of the whispering interest she +excited; she did not hear the subdued discussion that raged around her. +But the atmosphere of the house weighed on her, charged as it was with +failure. It was robbing her of courage. + +How strange it was to look back; almost unbearable. How hard it was to +look forward. She was to sail to-morrow ... she must be brave.... + +The girl who had struck up a casual alliance with her sat amidst the +others, ripping the ragged binding off a skirt. Her sallow face was +less heavy than usual, her eyes alight. + +She had glanced up quickly as Susan came in, and had begun to hum a +tune, snipping fast. It had been impossible to resist the temptation +to crystallise wandering speculation and focus the general attention +for awhile on herself by a few dark hints and thereupon thrilling +silence. The rest fell with a pathetic eagerness on the brief +distraction that lightened their dreary lives. They had outlived their +own little histories; no excitement touched any of them but the +recurrent terror of wanting bread. + +All at once Miss Robinson laid down her scissors and listened intently +to something she heard without. + +"Is that coals?" said one, huddling near the fire, in a hushed voice, +as who should say--Might the Gods relent?--But no full scuttle bumped +the panels as Gerald put in his head. + +"Wanted," he said, and grinned. + +Miss Robinson gave one gasp, half in fright, half triumphant, and fled +out of the room, shutting the door with care. + +Then, for a moment, cowardice nearly quenched her long-unslaked thirst +for drama. Visions of herself as mediatrix, restoring a runaway wife +to her frantic husband, were upset by fearful misgivings in which she +saw herself figuring, not in the gilded realm of the serial page, but +in lurid paragraphs on the other side of the paper. Paragraphs in +which someone heard pistol-shots.... + +In the dim passage she clutched at Gerald. + +"What is he like?" she whispered. + +"A regular toff," said Gerald in an awed voice. "Asked for a Miss +Grant. None of that name here.--Slight, dark lady.--And then I twigged +that he was your party. I've seen his picture once in the _News of the +World_; they snapped him, held up by the police in his motor. How did +you get to know 'im, Miss Robinson? He's a lord." + +"Oh!" she said. This was indeed a sensation. This would last her all +her life!-- + + * * * * * + +Barnaby had had no luck in Bond Street. + +He sat forward in his hansom, leaning out, gripping the front, ready to +dash it open. It did not matter to him how many fools were about, how +many frivolous idiots, men and women, stopped short in their idle +progress and stared at him. Down Old Bond Street, along New Bond +Street, right to the end he went, raking the narrow thoroughfare with a +searching gaze. The shop signs mocked him. Milliners, jewellers, +palmists, druggists, picture-sellers: a fantastic jumble. She might be +anywhere, within two or three yards of him, and he not know it. She +might have just gone in at that door yonder that was closing. She +might be just coming out. + +Half an hour ago. One chance in a hundred.... More likely she was +miles off, whizzing in one of these cursed taxis--! + +Well, he could hunt down Rackham. He would drive to that old barrack +of his in Marylebone. No,--that was let or shut up or something. +Where the devil did he go when he was in town? + +It was late in the afternoon before he ran him down. He had been heard +of, or seen, in most of his ordinary haunts. One man had come across +him in a saddler's shop, another had passed him ten minutes ago in the +Haymarket. And at last Barnaby found him coming out of his tailors'. +He stopped the hansom. + +"Get in," he said. + +"Hullo!" said Rackham, staring at him. "What's wrong with you?" But +he obeyed mechanically, and the hansom started off. "What d'you mean +by kidnapping a fellow like this? Where on earth are we going?" + +"I've told him to drive to my hotel," said Barnaby curtly. There was a +controlled fury in his voice. + +"But why the deuce----" + +"I'm not going to have a row in a cab." + +"Whew!" said Rackham, twisting round and regarding the grim outline of +his cousin's profile, his stubbornly closed mouth. Unless Barnaby were +stark mad there was something serious in the wind, something he could +not trust himself to utter without losing his hold on himself. + +It was not far to the hotel. Barnaby got out stiffly and Rackham +followed. + +"I hope you've got a nurse on the premises," he said,--"or a keeper." + +"We'll go to my room," said Barnaby, in the same deadly quiet voice. +Up there he closed the door and turned round on Rackham like one who +had got to the end of his tether. + +"Now!" he said. "Damn you, what have you done with my wife?" + +"What?" said Rackham. He had not expected that charge. + +"You know where she is," said Barnaby. "Don't lie to me. You were +with her in Bond Street----" + +So that was it. + +"How should I know if you don't?" said Rackham. "Do you mean she's +gone?" + +His eagerness was unmistakable. It was worth a torrent of empty +protestation. The two men looked each other straight in the eyes. + +The likeness between them came out then, when they were roused. +Something in the angry set of the jaw, something in their expression; a +recklessness, a hard blue stare. + +Barnaby had dropped his stick. He could stand up without its support. +For the time he had borrowed strength of passion. + +"You don't know?" he said, and took a long breath. + +"I don't," said Rackham. "There's no occasion to fight me, if that's +what you brought me here for. I saw her; I spoke to her;--but I was +fool enough not to understand. I supposed she was up in town for the +day, buying rubbish. I never doubted she was going back.--I thought +you were still on your sick-bed and she was looking after you--" + +He checked himself abruptly in the burst of angry candour that his +surprise evoked. + +"You needn't look so damnably glad--" he broke out, "because I've shown +myself a simpleton, not a villain. Look here, Barnaby, I've answered +your question. I'll ask you to tell me one thing. She's gone, and you +have lost her. What do you mean to do?" + +"Search London from end to end," said Barnaby, "till I find her." + +"That's how we stand, is it?" said Rackham. "You're not wise enough to +let her go?" + +He spoke more slowly, recovering from his astonishment. There was a +light in his eye, and into his voice had come a ring of exultation. He +had got over his first vexation, his rage at his own stupid failure to +guess the great good news. + +"What right have you to say that?" cried Barnaby. + +"For the matter of that," said Rackham, "what rights have you?" + +The shot told. For a minute they looked again fixedly at each other. + +"You had my answer," said Barnaby, "when I spoke of her as my wife." + +"You stick to that then?" said Rackham. "Though she has found it +unsupportable, though she's gone--you still hold to that pretence? +What's the good? You don't care a straw for the girl. Oh, I've seen +you together; I know the terms you were on.--It's sheer obstinacy makes +you play the dog-in-the-manger----" + +"Take care," said Barnaby, breathing hard. + +"Let's drop that humbug," said Rackham. "_I'm_ no gossip.--But I've +had an inkling from the first. I've guessed all along that it was a +plant of your mother's.--Infernally inconvenient of you to turn up and +spoil it--! But I held my tongue. Nobody else had any idea of how the +land lay but Julia.--There's a devilish instinct sometimes in a jealous +woman--" + +He laughed shortly. Something in Barnaby's look amused him. + +"What? She's been reproaching you, has she, after all?" he said. +"Well, I did you one service there. If I hadn't kept her quiet, she'd +have shrieked it all out on the house-tops on the night of the Melton +Ball. You owe me something for that, Barnaby. There 'ud always have +been a few who wouldn't have put her down as a raving lunatic. Mind, I +didn't muzzle her for your sake--I did that for Susan. I wasn't going +to stand by and see that woman hounding 'em on--!" + +"Have you done?" said Barnaby. He had got back some measure of +self-control. + +"I'm done if you are reasonable," said Rackham. "Why not own up and +tell me what you can, and let me look for her. I swear I'll find +her--but not for you." + +Barnaby took one step towards him, and he stood back quickly, smiling +at his own involuntary precaution. He could afford to smile, to stave +off a scuffle that would summon all the rabble in the hotel. + +"Steady!" he said. "Don't try to kill me. It would be a waste of time +for both of us. I'm not afraid of you, Barnaby, but I have something +else to do,--now,--than to stop rowing up here with you. I'd better +warn you--" + +Barnaby was struggling to hold himself in. Susan had still to be +found, and she would want his protection. Rackham was right there, +damn him; he must not lose his head. + +"And I warn _you_," he said. "I'll find my wife without your help. Do +you hear what I say?--my wife, Rackham. I don't care what story you +have got hold of. Understand that. She belongs to me." + +"And yet she's gone," said Rackham. + +Somebody was knocking at the door, but so discreetly that neither of +the two men heard. Rackham, turning to go, had halted to fling back +his taunting word. And the other man had no answer. His own storming +haste had undone him. + +"You can't get over that, can you?" said Rackham. "It knocks the +bottom out of your doggedness. If she doesn't choose to carry it on +you can do nothing." + +"I can take care of her," said Barnaby. His voice sounded hoarse. + +"No, you can't," said Rackham, with a sudden fierceness that matched +his own. "That will be my business." + +"Yours?" said Barnaby, and his look was dangerous. He advanced on the +other man with a clenching hand. + +"Because," said Rackham, "if she's not your wife:--and she's not; she's +nothing to you--I shall make her mine." + +In the short silence that fell between them the knocking became +insistent. + +"Better let them in," said Rackham, "I'm going." + +Barnaby pulled himself together and turned the key. His locking the +door had been an instinctive action. And Rackham passed out, ignoring +the insignificant person waiting on the threshold, who met Barnaby's +look of blank interrogation with an apologetic reminder of his own +orders. He had said if a message came it was to be brought up at once. +And a message it was;--from the shipping office. + + * * * * * + +Rackham swung out of the place like a conqueror. The knowledge that +Susan had run away was to him the knowledge that he had won. + +He never doubted that he would find her, and inspiration helped him, as +it will the man whose blood runs quicker under the stimulus of his +belief in his luck. What was the shop she had flown into to escape him +and Kilgour, and the embarrassment of their ignorant questions? He had +stayed long enough outside to know it again, waiting till he had no +excuse for loitering any longer. She must have made purchases. He +went straight there. + +How simple it was, with luck on his side, to call in and say that a +lady who had been that morning was afraid she had forgotten to leave +her name and address.... This was no big emporium, but a little +exclusive shop where it was possible to describe a customer's +appearance with a chance of finding it remembered by saleswomen who +recognized his standing and were sympathetically amused. In the +hat-shop they directed him upstairs, and there he found an equal +appreciation of his attitude of comical despair, as he tried helplessly +to run through a list of feminine furbelows that the careless lady was +supposed to have ordered to be sent home. How should a man +succeed?--Smiling they reassured him. They recollected the lady +perfectly from his description, and she had made no mistake in that +establishment; the parcel was already packed and waiting to be +despatched. To satisfy him an assistant was bidden to read out the +address on the label, and as she glanced up at him, expecting him to +verify it, Rackham checked himself just in time. For the name she +slurred over was strange to him. + +Why, he had thought of that,--since naturally the runaway was no longer +masquerading as his cousin's wife;--and yet he had been about to deny +that it was she. What had it sounded like? Grant, or Grand?--And was +it indeed Susan, or a stranger? He had no means of knowing; the only +thing possible was to go blindly forward, trusting in his luck and +fixing that address in his head. + +"Yes, yes, that's all right," he acknowledged, and laughed +good-naturedly at the apparent futility of his mission as he sauntered +out of the shop. + + * * * * * + +It was Miss Robinson's mysterious signal that cleared the room. One by +one, like startled shadows, its denizens flitted thence, and left +Rackham alone with Susan. + +They hung over the stairs, buzzing like bees in the semi-darkness, +thrilled by an interest that was vaguely heightened by alarm. At +intervals they hushed each other into silence, listening with bated +breath lest anything might transpire, and watching with a kind of +fascination the crack of light that issued from the door of the sitting +room. Only Miss Robinson herself went whispering, whispering on. + +"Poor little girl!" said Rackham. + +There was triumph and pity and a threatening kindness in his voice. +His reckless personality seemed to fill the room that had been so +suddenly deserted. + +She had risen to her feet with a gasp at his entrance. A wave of panic +swept over her head and left her slightly trembling;--because she had +had no warning. + +"How did you come here?" she said. + +"Oh," he said, smiling down upon her. "I prevailed on a drab young +woman who seems to have constituted herself your guardian to bring me +in. I wasn't going to risk your giving me the slip as you did this +morning. You wouldn't have seen me if I'd sent in a ceremonious +message." + +"No," she said, "I would not." + +"I knew that," said Rackham. "The same pride that kept you from +telling me the truth would have hidden you from me. You'd have had me +turned from the door.--But the drab romancer was a great ally, though +I've had to agree with most of her wild surmises.--I'll make you +forgive me later." + +He laughed under his breath. + +"She asked me," he said, "if I was your husband." + +"You--you--! Did you let her think----" cried Susan in a choking +voice, fighting against a strange sense of the inevitable that his look +inspired. + +"Oh, she had been thinking hard," he said. "A runaway stranger, +calling herself Miss--Grahame, was it?--I got it wrong--and wearing a +wedding ring. What more likely--? I had the part thrust on me +directly I showed my face." + +He dropped the half-jesting air that had masked his excitement, and +came nearer. She shivered a little at his approach. + +"Daren't you trust me, Susan?" he said. "I'm not a Pharisee.--Why, I +guessed it from the beginning. Don't you remember how I asked you to +let me help you if you wanted a friend?--And all the while I was +watching. Do you think I can't guess how Barnaby drove his bargain, +careless of you, trading on your helplessness in the shock of his +return? What did he care that it was hard on you, so long as it suited +his selfish purpose?" + +"He was good to me," she said. It was no use denying anything any more. + +"Are you grateful to him--still?" said Rackham. + +She turned away her face. + +Something in her attitude kindled in him that instinct of protection +that had from the first struggled in his soul with admiration. Had he +not felt a consuming rage that it had not been his to battle for her, +to turn round on Barnaby and his world, all pointing the finger of +scorn at her for a cheat?--He would have liked them to do their worst, +would have liked to defy them.... Well, that occasion was his at last. + +Barnaby had nearly fooled him. The extraordinary course he had taken +had at first made Rackham curse himself for an imaginative ass. But he +had been right. His time had come.... And Barnaby was defeated. + +"Well," he said, "that's ended. I'll take care of you now, I'll take +you out of this. Look at me! There's nothing between us now, no +fictitious barrier, no mistaken idea of loyalty to a man who took +advantage of your false step to make you play his own foolish game. +You made a gallant show. It almost deceived me, once or twice, almost +made me believe you liked him.... Never mind that. Like a brave girl +you've freed yourself from that intolerable position. And I'm here, +Susan, where I always was, at your feet." + +She lifted her head; a little, sad, desperate face upturned. + +"Why must you insult me?" she said. "Is it because I am all alone?" + +"I'm asking you to marry me," said Rackham. + +She stared at him for a minute. His pursuit of her was not all +selfish: there was an impatient fondness in his reckless face. + +"I--?" she said faintly. "A woman of whom you know nothing but that +she came among you as an impostor? You cannot mean what you say, Lord +Rackham." + +He broke in on her protestation roughly. + +"Do you think I mind tattle?" he said. "Let their tongues wag. We'll +hold up our heads and flout 'em. I'll leave it to Barnaby to find a +way out of his muddle.--Lord, how it will puzzle them,--how they'll +jabber when they see our marriage advertised in the _Morning Post_--!" + +He was taking her assent for granted, arrogant in the heat of his +headlong moment. Perhaps it did not strike him as possible that she +would refuse. What woman in her plight would not lean gladly on the +rescuer who came to offer her his kingdom? Perhaps he was blinded by +his confidence in his luck. + +"I--can't marry you!" she said. + +Rackham did not fall back. He laughed indulgently. Was she troubled +because of the world's opinion? + +"Dear, silly child," he said. "Don't be frightened. I'll make them +treat you properly. I'll make them swallow their amazement; and they +shall be kind to you." + +Yes, this man loved her. That was why she was afraid of him. She was +not used to being loved like that. She had never learned to see in it +help, instead of danger.... + +"I can't marry you," she repeated, but her breath came fast. + +"Oh, but you must!" he said. "Fate is on my side. What kind of a +struggle can you make against me all by yourself? I've found you, +Susan, and I'll never let you go.... There's nothing too outrageous +for me to undertake, and nothing on earth to stop me.--Your hands are +trembling." + +He bent to seize them in his, brushing aside her mute defiance with his +violent tenderness, as determined as Fate itself. Just for a minute +she felt very tired in spirit, very weak to resist him. It was so +strange, although it was terrible, to be loved. Why should any man +care so deeply as to stand between her and the emptiness of the world? +Might she not, if she submitted, find the strange worship sweet? + +She did not know she was wavering until she understood his smile, and +with that her heart was smitten by a fugitive likeness, a trick of +manner, reminding her of another man. Uselessly, poignantly, memory +stabbed her. She flung out these trembling hands. + +"No!" she panted. The thought of it was unbearable. "I can't--I +can't!" + +He was taken aback by the vehemence of her cry. For a moment he did +not speak, looking at her queerly. His laugh was angry. + +"I've a great mind to bundle you into a cab and carry you off," he +said. "Oh, they'd let me!--I've only to tell these people that you are +my wife and a little mad. My tale would sound more probable than +yours." + +She was not sure that he was not in earnest. Panic-stricken she shook +off his hold on her arm, meaning to pass him and reach the door. +Why?--To make a futile bid for sympathy in this house of strangers?-- + +Who was it that had turned the handle and was coming in? Her gaze was +unbelieving; she could neither breathe nor stir till the suffocating +leap of her heart assured her that it was true. For it was Barnaby +himself who was standing in the doorway, just as he had stood on that +night when she had seen him first. Only the look in his eyes was +changed. + +The same faintness overcame her that had stricken her down that night. +She did not know whose arms had caught her as she was falling ... +falling.... But she was afraid of nothing, though all was darkness. + +"Your race, Barnaby," said Rackham. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +"I knew we should get you back," said Lady Henrietta. + +That had been her first word last night, and she repeated it with the +emphasis of a prophetess justified. Still her clasp of the truant had +been almost fierce. + +The journey to London had done her no harm. Rather had all this +excitement given her a fillip. There was a triumphant pink in her +cheek, and amusement twinkled in the fine lines surrounding the corners +of her eyes. Whilst Barnaby had been searching she had been busy, +dealing with an imposing but worldly personage in gaiters, who had been +an old admirer of hers and was her sworn ally. The situation charmed +her; it was like a thrilling but perfectly righteous bit of intrigue. +Quizzically, delightedly, she was regarding Susan. + +"Yes," she maintained. "I pinned my faith to that battered old brooch +of mine. It's unlucky to wear, but still--when I remembered that it +was doomed to come back to me I was tranquil. I knew it would." + +She turned from one to the other, challenging them to mock at her +superstition; and then she laughed. + +"My dear!" she said. "I'll never forget his face when I was raging at +him.--I blamed him, you may be sure. Or his voice when he called to +me--'She has written!' I could get no more out of him till I lost my +patience and cried--'Then for Heaven's sake read the letter and tell me +what she says!' And when he said--'She says she has found out that my +marriage was illegal' I could only exclaim--'Thank goodness!'" + +She laughed again at her picture of his amazement. + +"I shocked him awfully," she said. "But I was transported. It had +solved a riddle.... 'So _that_ was the mysterious American business,' +I said, '_that_ is what was the matter! And she has rushed off and set +you free and all the rest of it, you undeserving laggard! If that's +all it can soon be mended.'--And then he woke up from his stupefaction. +But it was I who thought of the Bishop. It was I who suggested a +special licence. I am the head conspirator, Susan,--and I'll go and +put on my things." + +She went, glancing back to them as she reached the door. + +"Don't let her out of your sight, Barnaby," she said warningly, and +left them together. + +The girl stayed where she was, quite still; gazing down from the dizzy +height of the window on the restless world in the streets below. +Barnaby was limping across to her side. She felt his touch on her +shoulder. + +"There's the church down there," he said. "Like an island in a +whirlpool, isn't it? But all the roar and the rush dies down like the +noise in a dream when you get inside. It's wonderfully dim and dark in +there, and they're dusting the pews for us,--and there are a few lilies +on the altar. And we'll just walk into it hand in hand." + +Her breath came hurriedly, like a sob. + +"Are you--sure?" she said. + +"Ah," he reminded her, "I've never made love to you, have I, Susan?" + +She could not answer him, knowing him so close; and she dared not look +up at him. There was so much to remember, and she had begun to guess +how dangerous it had been.... He laughed, and his hand leaned heavier +on her shoulder. + +"I've been hopping all over London like a mad cripple," he said, "and +at last I've got you. I must hold on to you, or you'll manage to +disappear. Why did you run away when you thought I couldn't follow? +It wasn't fair. Oh, my darling, couldn't you understand?" + +His voice was not steady now; there was reproach in its passionate +undertone. + +"I'm sorry," she said, and laid her cheek against his sleeve. This +thing that was still too wonderful was true. + +"Why," said Barnaby. "It was only you from the first,--that first +night when the sight of you staggered me. I didn't know why, but I did +know that at any cost, at any risk, I couldn't let you go. I thought I +was strong enough, man enough, to keep you safe in my house:--and when +I began to find out what a hard thing I had undertaken, when I had to +fight back the mad desire to make the farce we played at real,--you +believed that I had betrayed you to another woman.... I've got your +letter, your dear scrap of a piteous letter, letting me know that she +and I had no barrier between us.... And that was to be the last I +heard of you, was it, Susan?" + +The reproach in his question was lost in its bantering tenderness. + +"Wait," he said, "till I have you safe, and I'll teach you... And +then, perhaps, we'll dare to look back on it all and laugh,--a long +time afterwards; just you and I, by ourselves." + +Lady Henrietta was back already. She had been discreet, had asked for +no fuller explanation than the one she had so promptly furnished +herself. It was all she was to know; but she was too wise to pry. At +the back of her mind there was nothing but an absolute satisfaction, as +of a warrior who had won her battle. If her eyes, shrewd and +understanding, were dimmed a little as she considered them, she flung +off her emotion quickly and smiled again. + +"How funny it is," she said. "You have no idea how I am enjoying +myself, you children. Put her furs on, Barnaby, button her up to the +chin. I promised the Bishop we wouldn't be late. Secret marriages +never are." + +Then, hurrying him, she was moved to plague him with an irrepressible +spark of mischief. + +"Incomprehensible pair," she said. "I wish I had been at your first +wedding. It must have been frightfully romantic." + +Barnaby put away his watch. An unconquerable flicker lit up his eyes. + +"It was," he said. "I just took her hand like this, and I said--" he +was holding it tight in his--"Let's go and get married, Susan." + + + + +WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD. + +PRINTERS, PLYMOUTH + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Barnaby, by R. Ramsay + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BARNABY *** + +***** This file should be named 36699.txt or 36699.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/6/9/36699/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +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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