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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/21867-8.txt b/21867-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..47054ab --- /dev/null +++ b/21867-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13731 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Afterwards, by Kathlyn Rhodes + +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: Afterwards + +Author: Kathlyn Rhodes + +Release Date: June 19, 2007 [EBook #21867] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AFTERWARDS *** + + + + +Produced by David Clarke, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + _Afterwards_ + + _By Kathlyn Rhodes_ + +_Author of "The Desert Dreamers," "The Will of Allah," "The Lure of the +Desert," etc._ + + + + + LONDON: HUTCHINSON & CO. + PATERNOSTER ROW + + PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY + RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, + BRUNSWICK ST., STAMFORD ST., S. E. 1, + AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK. + + + + +_PROLOGUE_ + + + + +I + + +"Dr. Anstice"--the girl spoke slowly, and her voice was curiously +flat--"how much longer have we--before dawn?" + +Without replying, the man glanced at his watch; and when he spoke his +voice, too, was oddly devoid of tone. + +"I think--only an hour now." + +"Only an hour." In the gloom of the hut the girl's face grew very pale. +"And then----" She broke off, shuddering. + +"Miss Ryder, don't think of it. After all, we need not give up hope yet. +An hour--why, heaps of things may happen in an hour." + +A wan little smile touched the girl's lips, and she came a step nearer +her companion. + +"Don't let us buoy ourselves up with false hopes," she said quietly. "In +your heart you know quite well that nothing on earth can save us now. +When the sun rises"--in spite of herself she shivered--"we shall die." + +The man said nothing for a moment. In his heart he knew she spoke the +truth; yet being a man he tried once more to reassure her. + +"Miss Ryder, I won't allow that." Taking her hand he led her once more +to the rude bench on which she had spent the night. "There _is_ a +chance--a faint one, I admit, but still an undeniable chance." + +"You mean----?" Although she tried to speak calmly he heard the tiny +thrill of hope in her voice, and in his soul he wondered whether, after +all, he were not acting cruelly in speaking thus. + +"I mean our absence must have been noticed long ago. When we did not +return in time for the picnic lunch or tea, someone must have wondered +where we were; and it is quite possible we were seen to enter the Temple +earlier in the day." + +"That awful Temple!" The horror in her eyes made his heart beat +pitifully over her. "If only I had not been so foolish as to insist on +entering! You didn't know how dangerous it was to go in, but I did--at +least, I knew something of the danger--and I would go ... and then--the +uncanny silence, the sudden knowledge that we were not alone ... that +something, _someone_ malignant, hateful, was watching us--and then those +awful men who seized us ... oh!" The agony of remembrance was too much +for her, and she sank back, half-fainting, against the wall. + +"Miss Ryder, don't go over it all again!" Although it seemed certain +that they had only an hour to live, Anstice could not bear to see her +suffer now. "Don't let us think of what has happened--let us try to +imagine that we are saved--as indeed we may be yet!" But he stole a +glance out of the empty window-space as he spoke, and his heart sank to +note the lightening of the Indian night's soft dusk. + +"I think not." Her tone was calm, almost indifferent, but her +apprehensive eyes belied her voice. "Dr. Anstice, you have not forgotten +your promise? If ... if it comes to the worst, you--you won't let me +fall into--_their_ hands?" + +And then he knew that in spite of her endeavours to be brave, to face +the impending fate heroically, she too had had her doubts throughout the +long hours of their imprisonment--doubts as to whether death would +indeed come to her with the merciful swiftness of a fanatic's bullet.... + +And because he shared her doubt, because he, too, had wondered whether +he alone would be shot at dawn, while she, his companion in this +horrible nightmare, were reserved for some far more ghastly fate, +because of his wonder and his doubt Anstice rejoiced in the fact that he +had it in his power to save her from the worst that could happen. + +He had not given his promise-lightly; yet having given it he would +fulfil it, if the God who seemed to have deserted them in their need +should see fit to nerve him to the deed. + +She was looking at him wistfully, with something of horror behind the +wistfulness; and he could not bear to keep her waiting any longer for +the assurance she craved. + +"Yes," he said gently, and there was a tender note in his voice. "I will +keep my word. You shall not fall into their hands. I promise you that." + +She sighed faintly, and made room for him beside her on the rough seat. + +"That is settled, then. And now, just for this last half-hour, let us +pretend that we are in no danger, that we are waiting for our friends, +the friends we ran away from at the picnic--yesterday." + +Something in her own words startled her, and she broke off abruptly. + +"Well?" He smiled at her. "Let us pretend. How shall we begin?" + +"Was it only yesterday?" Her accent thrilled him through and through. +"Did we really start out from my uncle's bungalow yesterday morning? How +gay we were, weren't we--all the twenty of us ... you and I leading +because our horses were the best and I knew the way...." + +"Yes--and all the smart young officers looking daggers at me because I +had carried you off!" His tone was admirably light. + +"Nonsense!" Hilda Ryder actually laughed, and in the dim and gloomy hut +her laughter sounded almost uncanny. "I'm sure no one was in the least +envious! You see, we were new friends--and it is such a treat to meet +someone new out here!" + +"Yes. By Jove, we'd only met twice, hadn't we? Somehow I was thinking we +were quite old friends, you and I! But as you say, I was a new-comer, +this was my first visit to the East. Rather a change, India and the +snows, from a slum in Shoreditch!" + +"Shoreditch? Did you really live in a slum?" + +"Rather--and quite enjoyed it!" He laughed at her incredulous face. "It +was experience, you see--disease flourishes in many and divers forms +down there, and although I couldn't contemplate staying there for ever, +the time wasn't wasted." + +"And then--you left your slum?" + +"Yes. I wanted more time to myself." He threw back his head as he +talked, and swept the curly black hair off his brow with an impatient +hand. "You see I had visions--oh, purely futile ones, I daresay--but I +had a great idea of finding a cure for a certain disease generally +considered incurable----" He broke off suddenly. + +"Well? You have found it?" Her tone was eager. + +"Not yet--but I shall!" In his enthusiasm he had forgotten the present, +forgotten the horror which was coming nearer with great strides as the +morning brightened in the sky. He saw only the future--not the immediate +future--death, with his back against the wall of the courtyard, his face +turned to the rising sun; but the splendid, strenuous future, when after +good years of toil, of experience, even of suffering, he should make the +great discovery which should free mankind from one of its most grievous +foes, and add a precious treasure to the scientific storehouse of the +world.... + +"It's a difficult task--almost superhumanly difficult!" His black eyes +snapped at the thought of the difficulties in the way. "But thank God +I'm young and full of hope--the hope that belongs to youth--and with +luck I believe I'll win through in the end...." + +A sudden shaft of rosy light, striking slantwise through the windowless +aperture in the wall, brought him to a standstill. + +"Sunrise! My God--I--I'd forgotten!" In an instant the youth and +enthusiasm were wiped out of his face as by a ruthless hand, and he +started to his feet. "Miss Ryder, forgive me! I've been talking like a +fool, and you sit there listening like an angel, while all the time----" + +"Hush, please!" She laid her hand on his arm, and through the sleeve of +his thin riding-suit he felt the chill of her slender fingers. "It isn't +time--yet. Let us pretend until the last minute. You know--you haven't +asked me what I intend--intended"--for a second she faltered--"to make +of _my_ life!" + +Inwardly cursing his own folly, Anstice sat down again beside her and +took her hand in his as a brother might have done. + +"Well, what is ... was...." He, too, bungled over the tense, but she +pretended not to notice his confusion. "What are you going to be--or do? +I hope your dreams are as wild as mine!" + +"Not quite!" Her tone robbed the words of all offence. "Mine are very +humble dreams, I'm afraid! You see"--for a second her voice shook, but +she steadied it and continued to speak--"there's a man in Egypt whom I +am--was--oh, what can I say?--whom I was to marry--some day." + +"Really? You're engaged?" A fresh pang of pity shot through his heart. + +"Yes. He's an engineer--in the Irrigation Department--and the best man +in all the world!" For a moment love triumphed over death, and its glory +illuminated the gloom of that fatal place of imprisonment with a hint of +immortality. "That's _my_ ambition, Dr. Anstice--to love him and marry +him, and be a true and faithful wife--and perhaps"--her voice sank a +note--"perhaps in time to bear his children. That"--said Hilda Ryder, +and now her eyes were full of dreams--"would be to me the most glorious +destiny in the world!" + +Her soft voice trembled into silence, and for the space of twenty +heart-beats the two sat motionless, only their hands seeking the mutual +comfort which their warm contact might well bring. + +Then, with a sudden movement, Hilda Ryder sprang to her feet and crossed +the mud floor to the aperture in the wall. + +"Dr. Anstice, the sun is rising. I suppose--now--we have only a few +minutes more to live." + +He followed her across the floor and together they watched the dawning +of the day which was to be the herald of death. With the inexorable +swiftness of the East the sun was rushing into the sky in all his glory +of scarlet and pearl, and in spite of the significance of his triumphal +rising the two who watched him caught their breath at the rosy +magnificence of his entry. + +But Hilda's words must not go unanswered; and with a resolute squaring +of his shoulders Anstice turned from the gorgeous world outside to the +dimness of the hut. + +"Yes," he said, rather slowly and deliberately. "I am afraid we have +only a few minutes left--now." + +Curiously, she cavilled at his choice of words. + +"Why do you say--afraid?" He could not understand her tone. "You are not +afraid to die--it's I who am such a pitiful coward that I daren't face +death--out there in the sunlight." + +"You're not a coward, Miss Ryder!" Impulsively he patted her shoulder, +and in spite of everything his action thrilled her with a sense of +comfort. "Why, all through this dreadful night you've behaved like a +heroine, and if your courage fails you a little now--which I hardly +believe--well, that's excusable, at any rate!" + +"Have I been brave?" She looked at him with wide blue eyes like the eyes +of a child. "I am glad of that, seeing it was I who led us into this by +profaning--and making you profane--their Temple. I was afraid I had been +dreadfully cowardly. I--I didn't feel brave, you know!" + +"You poor little girl!" She was nearly as tall as he, a stately young +woman, in truth, but suddenly he saw her as a frightened child. "You've +been braver--much braver than I--and I wish to God I could have got you +safely out of this! What do you say? Shall we break open the door and +make a dash for it? We might win through--if the guards were taken by +surprise----" + +"Have you forgotten the high wall of the courtyard--and the great gates +which can only be opened by three men?" He _had_ forgotten, and her +reminder seemed to close the last avenue of escape. "No, Dr. Anstice, +that's not the way out. But----" A sudden noise outside made her start, +and her voice grew hoarse suddenly and broke. "Oh, you won't fail me, +will you? You have my revolver safe?" + +"Yes." It lay safely hidden in an inner pocket, its tiny size alone +having prevented its discovery by alien hands. "I have it in my pocket. +There's only one cartridge, but that will be enough if--if we have need +of it." + +"Thank you, Dr. Anstice." To his surprise and admiration she had +regained her courage, the threatened collapse of the previous moment +gone for ever. "Then I can wait quite calmly. But"--her blue eyes met +his very fully--"you won't delay too long? The moment they come you +will--do what you have promised?" + +"Yes, dear." In that second he forgot that their acquaintance was barely +a week old, forgot that Hilda Ryder was the promised bride of another +man. In this moment all external circumstances were forgotten, and +nothing remained but the fact that they were called upon to face death +together, and that to him alone could the girl look for comfort and help +in the bitter hour which faced them. And he knew that his hand must be +steady to do her service; that he must guide her footsteps unfalteringly +to the gate through which she must pass in all her radiant youth; must +support and strengthen her with hand and voice so that she might look +the dark angel fearlessly in the face and pass that frowning portal with +unflinching step and dauntless mien. + +In the hour of death he must help her to be true to herself, so that no +craven fear should sully her proud soul, and with this high resolve he +turned to her with the little word of endearment on his lips, and laid +his hand on her arm with a touch of real affection. + +"I will do what I have promised when the moment comes." He felt a little +shiver run over her body and his hand tightened on her arm. "Dear, it +will soon be over. Really you need not be afraid." + +"Tell me"--she turned to him, and the look in her eyes thrilled him +through and through--"does it _hurt_--death when it comes like--that?" + +"No." He spoke firmly. "You must not think of that. It is all over in a +second--and you know"--he hesitated--"after all, this life is not +everything." + +"No." A new light touched her eyes for a moment, a light brighter than +that of the rising sun. "There is a life beyond, isn't there? My mother +died three years ago, and I have missed her sorely," said Hilda Ryder +simply. "Surely she will greet me--there. But"--for a moment a great +human yearning shook her soul--"it's hard to leave this dear life +behind ... the world is so wonderful, so lovely--I'm sure no other world +can ever be half so beautiful as this." + +A sudden clamour in the courtyard outside drove the colour from her +cheeks, and instinctively she clung to him. + +"Dr. Anstice, they're coming, aren't they? Is this--really--the end?" + +For a second he listened, the blood running icily in his veins. Then he +turned to her with a smile on his lips. + +"Yes. I think they are coming--now. But"--his voice changed--"after all, +there might be a chance--for you!" + +Instead of reassuring her his words drove her to a white-lipped terror. + +"You're not going to fail me now? Dr. Anstice, for the love of God, do +as you promised--I will be brave, I will indeed--only don't let them +take me--oh, don't!" + +"It's all right, dear." He slipped his arm round her and drew her +closely to him. "I won't fail you. I thought for a moment there might be +a chance, but after all this is the better way." + +"I knew you could be brave--for me," she said, very softly; and then, as +a native voice outside the hut called an order, he felt her tremble in +his arms. "They are coming--Dr. Anstice, let us say good-bye--or"--she +actually smiled--"shall it be _au revoir_?" + +"That, I think," he said steadily, holding the little revolver hidden in +his hand as he spoke. "Dear, I'm going to do it now ... close your eyes, +and then you will know nothing till you open them to see your mother's +face." + +A long sigh shook her from head to foot. Then she closed her eyes +obediently. + +"Thank you." They were the last words he heard her say as he raised the +revolver; and the next moment the merciful deed was done, and Hilda +Ryder was safe for ever from the vengeance of the fanatics whom she had +all unwittingly enraged. + +Then, as the door opened at last, and two grave-faced Indians entered +and motioned to Anstice to accompany them into the courtyard, he went +out unflinchingly into the sunlight to meet his fate. + + + + +II + + +Late that night two British officers sat on the verandah of a bungalow +in the hills, discussing the tragedy which had happened at dawn. + +"It's an appalling affair altogether," said the elder man, as he threw +away his half-smoked cigar. "If we had been five minutes earlier we +should have saved the girl, and the man would have been spared a +lifetime's regret." + +"Yes." The other officer, who was young and very human, spoke slowly, +and his eyes were thoughtful. "It is a good deal worse for the man than +the woman, after all. Shall you ever forgot his face when he realized +that he was saved? And by Jove it was a near thing for him, too." + +"Too near to be pleasant," rejoined his companion grimly. "Of course, no +one but a lunatic would have allowed the girl to enter that Temple. +Don't you remember that affair a couple of years ago, when two American +fellows only just got out in time?" + +"Yes." Young Payton's voice was dubious. "But you must remember, sir, +Anstice was a new-comer, and didn't know the yarn--and it is just +possible Miss Ryder didn't know it either. Or she may have +over-persuaded him." + +"Well, she's paid for her folly, poor girl." Colonel Godfrey rose. "Her +uncle's off his head about it, and what the fellow she was to marry will +say remains to be seen. I suppose he'll want an explanation from +Anstice." + +"Why, you don't mean he'll blame the man for doing what he did?" The +young officer spoke boyishly. "After all, it was the only thing to do. +Fancy, if the girl had fallen into the hands of those fanatics! Shooting +would have been a merciful death compared to the life she might have had +to endure." + +"Of course, of course!" Colonel Godfrey rose and moved to the steps of +the verandah, where he stood looking absently out over the moonlit +world. "It was the only thing to do--and yet, what a tragedy it has all +been! By the way, where is Anstice? I've not seen him since we came in." + +"He's in hospital. Got a nasty swipe across the shoulder in the +rough-and-tumble before we got away, and it gave Dr. Morris an excuse to +shove morphia into him to keep him quiet a bit. Of course when he comes +round I expect he'll be pretty sick about it all, but at least the poor +devil has got a few hours' respite." + +"That's a blessing, anyway. Wonder what he'll do after this. Sort of +thing to ruin a man's nerve, what?" + +"Probably take to drink--or drugs," said Payton succinctly. "Some chaps +would put a bullet through their brains, but I don't fancy Anstice is +the sort to do that." + +"Don't you?" For a second Colonel Godfrey hesitated, still looking out +over the garden to where the line of the eternal snows glimmered white +and passionless in the splendid moonlight. "Yet you know, my boy, one +could hardly blame a man for blowing out his brains after a tragedy of +this sort. No." With a last glance at the mystery of the snows he turned +back to the lighted verandah and took out his cigar-case. "I think one +could not blame this fellow Anstice if he chose that way out." He +selected a cigar with care. "After all, he must feel as though he had +murdered the girl, and though I fully agree with you that there was +nothing else to be done, still one can imagine how the memory of the +deed will haunt the poor chap all his life." + +"Yes." Rex Payton lifted his cap from the table and prepared to take his +leave. "Well, good-night, sir. I think I'll just step across and see how +he's getting on. By Jove, what a magnificent night. It's as bright as +day out here." + +"Yes. Let me know in the morning how things are going." + +"Right you are, sir." With another hasty good-night Rex turned and +strode away across the compound in search of the doctor. + +"Still asleep, thank God," was Morris' report. "Give you my word I dread +his awakening." + +"Seems a pity he's got to wake at all," said Payton moodily. "Couldn't +you have given him a double dose while you were about it, and put the +poor devil out of his misery?" + +"That's not the way we work," returned the other dryly. "There's been +one--miscalculation--to-day, and we can't afford any more. If he likes +to do it himself, when he comes round, that's a different matter. I +don't think he will, somehow. He doesn't strike me as that sort. He'll +face it out, I believe, though it will go hard with him in the doing." + +"When will he be himself again?" + +"I don't know. I shall keep him under as long as I dare. After all"--the +doctor, who prided himself on his lack of emotion, for once betrayed a +glimpse of the real humanity beneath the rather grim exterior--"he'll +have to serve a life-sentence in the way of regret, and one can't grudge +the poor wretch an hour or two's Nirvana." + +And: + +"By God, sir, I agree with you," was all Rex Payton could find to say. + + + + +III + + +One evening three weeks later Anstice sat in the smoke-room of a +well-known hotel in Bombay waiting for the arrival of the one person in +the world whom he might have been expected to avoid. + +The P. and O. boat had docked that afternoon; and among the passengers +was the man to whom Hilda Ryder had been engaged--the man to whom +Anstice must answer for the deed done as the sun rose on that fatal +morning twenty-one dawns ago. + +The news of the girl's death had been cabled to the young engineer in +Cairo immediately, followed by a letter from Colonel Godfrey relating so +much of the affair as he himself knew; and in response had come a +laconic message to the effect that Bruce Cheniston had sought and +obtained leave, and would be in India at the first possible moment. He +had been delayed by one or two accidents, but now he had really arrived; +and Anstice had come down to meet him, knowing that before he himself +could leave this fatal country there must be an explanation between the +man who had loved Hilda Ryder, and the one who had been too hasty in +carrying out a promise. + +To say that he shrank from this interview would hardly be true. As a +matter of fact, in the weeks which had elapsed since that fatal morning +Anstice had wandered in a world of shadows. Nothing seemed real, acute, +not even the memory of the thing he had done. Everything was mercifully +blurred, unreal. He was like a man stunned, who sees things without +realizing them; or a man suffering from some form of poison--from +indulgence in _hashish_, for instance, when time and space lose all +significance, and the thing which was and that which is become strangely +and unaccountably interchangeable. + +That there must be a reckoning between himself and Cheniston, Anstice +vaguely knew. Yet he felt no dread, and very little curiosity as to the +manner of their meeting; and although he recognized the fact that the +man to whom Hilda Ryder had been engaged might well look on him with +horror, inasmuch as his hand had sent her to her death, Anstice felt +little interest in the matter as it concerned himself. + +Possibly he was still feeling the effects of that morning's happening, +although unaware of it. He had received a nasty wound--even now his +shoulder was stiff and painful--and since he had discontinued the use of +opiates he had had little or no sleep; but he was a man of good +physique, and only an unaccustomed pallor and a few finely-drawn lines +round his mouth betrayed the fact that he had suffered--was suffering +still. + +One or two men glanced at him curiously as he sat in a corner, gazing +ahead of him with an unseeing stare; but only one man, a young officer +called Trent, recognized him as the hero of the tragedy which had shaken +the district of Alostan a few weeks earlier. + +Being a talkative person he could not refrain from pointing Anstice out +to his companion. + +"See that chap over there--the tall fellow in grey?" Trent had been one +of the picnic party which had ended in disaster; and although a +good-hearted boy was thrilled with the importance of his own position. +"Know who it is? Well, it's that chap Anstice--you remember, the fellow +who shot that girl up in the hills when they were in a tight place." + +"Oh! That the man?" The other, who was a portly civilian, looked at the +unconscious Anstice with open interest. "Shocking affair, what? If he'd +held his hand five minutes they would both have been rescued. Wasn't +that it?" + +"Yes. Looks a bit sick about it, doesn't he?" + +"Um ... yes. Good-looking fellow, in a hard-bitten sort of way." The +civilian looked Anstice over, approving the thin, well-cut face, the +tall, loosely-built figure, the long hands lying idly on the arms of his +chair. "Rather foreign-looking, with that black hair and those dark +eyes, isn't he?" + +"Yes. Looks years older than he did before it happened," said Trent, +speaking the truth. "I expect, though, it _is_ the sort of thing to age +one." + +"Yes. What's he doing here? Going home?" + +"Yes, but I fancy he's got an appointment with Cheniston first," +explained the younger man importantly. "Boat got in this afternoon, and +I expect Cheniston wants to hear the affair at first-hand." + +"Daresay. Rather rough on the poor devil." The civilian, beneath his +pompous exterior, had a kind heart. "Bad enough to have to shoot the +girl first, without explaining it all afterwards. Hope to goodness the +other chap lets him down lightly." + +"Oh, well, he can't say much." Trent broke off abruptly. "Here is +Cheniston ... by Jove, I wouldn't like to be Anstice at this moment." + +Unconscious of the interest he was arousing, a young man had just +entered the room. He was of medium height, broad-shouldered and bronzed, +with a good-looking, square face and a resolute chin. Just now he was +pale beneath his tan, and his eyes, which were narrow in shape and of a +rather hard blue, were strained and anxious. + +Inside the room, he looked uncertainly round; and the next moment +Anstice rose slowly to his feet. + +"You are Mr. Cheniston?" They might have been alone in a desert for all +the notice he took of any onlookers. "I think you are looking for me. My +name is Anstice." + +Bruce Cheniston nodded abruptly. + +"Yes. I'm Cheniston. We can't talk here. Will you come up to my room?" + +"Thanks." He moved forward, and Cheniston turned to the door. + +"This way. I'm some floors up--we'll take the lift." + +In silence they made the ascent; and now to his own unwelcome surprise +Anstice felt himself awaking from the merciful stupor in which he had +been sunk for so many unnoticed days. + +Suddenly he began to realize what this interview must mean to Cheniston; +and the knowledge that he must tear the knife from his own wound in +order to plunge it into the heart of the young man opposite him made him +feel as though he were already inwardly bleeding to death. + +From being vague and blurred his senses now became preternaturally +acute. His surroundings were no longer dim and formless, rather +everything grew inhumanly sharp and vivid. To the end of his life he +would preserve an extraordinarily faithful recollection of the room into +which Cheniston presently ushered him--the usual hotel bedroom in India, +with high green walls, mosquito curtains, and an entire absence of all +superfluities in the way of furniture or adornment. + +On the floor lay a Gladstone bag, half open as the owner had carelessly +left it; and Anstice found himself idly speculating as to whether the +white and purple striped glory which protruded from it was a shirt or a +pair of pyjamas.... + +His wandering thoughts were suddenly recalled to the affair of the +moment; and the minor things of life were forgotten in the onrush of the +vital things, the things which matter.... + +"Now, Dr. Anstice"--Anstice's professional instinct, so long in +abeyance, warned him that the man's self-control was only, so to speak, +skin-deep; and a quite unexpected and inexplicable rush of pity +overwhelmed him as the cold voice went on speaking--"I think you will +realize that I should like to hear your account of--of the affair that +took place in that accursed Temple." + +"I quite realize that." Anstice spoke slowly. "And I am ready to answer +any questions you may like to ask." + +"I--I think----" For a second Cheniston wavered, then spoke more +humanly. "Won't you sit down? I should like, if I may, to hear the whole +story from the beginning." + +"I see. Well, you are quite within your rights in wishing to hear the +story. No, I won't sit down, thanks. It won't take very long to tell." + +Cheniston moved a step backwards and sat down on the edge of the bed, +pushing the mosquito curtain impatiently aside. Then he took out his +cigarette case, and, still with his steel-blue eyes on the other man's +face, selected a cigarette which he held, unlighted, as he listened. + +Standing in the middle of the floor, his hands in the pockets of his +coat, Anstice began his story, and in spite of the fact that this man +had robbed him of all that he held dear in life, Cheniston was forced to +admit that at least he was proving himself no coward. + +"When we set off on that fatal picnic"--Anstice took it for granted that +his hearer knew the details of the occasion--"Miss Ryder and I went on +ahead. We were both well mounted, and she was, as you know, a fearless +horsewoman. We very soon out-distanced the others, and had gone a good +way when Miss Ryder suggested we should visit a certain Temple of which +it seems she had heard a great deal from a native servant. Had I known +then, as I know now, the reputation of the place, and the intense hatred +which the priests felt for any of the white races since that unlucky +American affair"--he realized suddenly that he appeared to be excusing +himself, and his manner hardened--"well, I can only regret that I +allowed Miss Ryder to set foot in the place." + +"You went?" + +"Yes. It was only a few miles off the track, and we were so far ahead of +the party that we should easily have had time to get to our original +destination for lunch. Well, we went on, found the Temple, apparently +deserted----" + +"Apparently?" The question shot out like steel. "There was someone +there?" + +"Yes. We both realized at the same moment that we were not alone. You +must understand that the place is half in ruins--it's a clever +subterfuge of the priests to keep out intruders by pretending there is +nothing there of interest. Most people turn back after a perfunctory +look round; but in reality if one penetrates through one or two passages +one comes to the Temple proper, where Heaven knows what rites go on." + +"You reached it?" + +"Yes. Thinking the place was merely a ruin I went on quite +comfortably ... and suddenly we found ourselves in a sort of Holy of +Holies ... a queer, pillared place with an enormous idol in a kind of +recess--an altar, I suppose." His voice was tense. "It was at that moment +we both realized someone was watching us, malignantly, from some unseen +vantage-point. I turned to Miss Ryder to suggest, as quietly as +possible, that we should retrace our steps, and found her, very pale, +staring ahead of her with horror in her face." + +"She had seen--something?" + +"Yes. Afterwards she told me it was the glitter of the man's eyes ... he +was looking through a kind of hole in the embroidered drapery behind the +idol ... that had attracted her attention; and she was only too ready to +fall in with my suggestion." + +"You were--prevented?" + +"Yes. As we turned towards the opening we found we were too late. Three +tall fellows--priests, I suppose they were--had come up behind us, and +as we moved they seized us ... two men held my arms--the third----" His +voice broke. + +"He--held Miss Ryder?" + +"Yes. He wasn't rough with her." The words, which happened to be untrue, +sounded painfully inadequate in his own ears. "They gave us no time to +explain anything, but took us before the Chief Priest, or someone of the +kind, and stated that we had been found desecrating the Temple by our +unhallowed presence." + +"You explained that you had done it in ignorance?" + +"Of course. But"--he smiled rather cynically--"they had evidently heard +that before. You know the Americans who got into trouble there had +really laid a plot to carry away some memento of their visit, and they +thought we were after loot of some kind, too, I suppose." + +"They wouldn't listen?" + +"Oh, yes, they listened all right while I tried, with Miss Ryder's help, +to explain. She knew a few words of their tongue, and somehow a +situation of that sort sharpens one's wits to the extent of helping one +to understand a strange lingo. The upshot was we were blindfolded"--he +saw Cheniston wince at the thought of the indignity to the girl he had +loved--"and led away. Later we were placed in a conveyance of some sort, +a bullock cart, I imagine, and driven for hours over some of the worst +ground I've ever struck." + +"Well?" The interest of the story was gripping the other man through all +his horror, and his tone had lost its hostility for the moment. "And +then?" + +"Finally we were released, led into a small hut, our eyes were +unbandaged, and we were informed that our fate was being deliberated, +and the result would be made known to us at sunset." + +"And at sunset----" + +"At sunset we were sent for to the presence of a still more important +personage, another High Priest, I suppose. We were taken into a kind of +presence chamber, across the large courtyard, and found our friends of +the morning, kow-towing to this still higher potentate. He didn't waste +words on us. Through the miserable creature who had interpreted for us +earlier, he made us understand that the penalty for setting foot in +their holy place was death--by strangulation as a general rule----" + +Cheniston's lips turned white, and his cigarette dropped to the floor; +but though Anstice saw his agitation he paid no attention. + +"But in consideration of the fact that we were English and one of us was +a woman"--Cheniston uttered an involuntary exclamation--"our sentence +was that we should be shot in the courtyard at sunrise." + +"One moment." Cheniston's voice was harsh, and he moistened his lips +before he spoke. "Weren't you armed? Couldn't you have--have made a +fight for it?" + +For the first time Anstice lost control of himself. The dark blood +rushed to his brow and his eyes flashed with anger. + +"Good God, man, do you suppose if I'd been armed we should have +submitted tamely? As a matter of fact, the brutes who attacked us in the +first place seized my revolver before I had a chance to draw it ... and +though I'm pretty tough, when it came to a struggle with those Indian +devils they were like steel--iron--anything you choose to compare them +with." + +"I know--their muscles are marvellous--especially the Hill-men." His +tone held a note of apology. "Of course, if you had had half a +chance--but"--suddenly his voice changed, grew suspicious--"you had a +revolver, in the end?" + +"Yes. Miss Ryder's. They did not suspect her of carrying a weapon, you +see, and it was a tiny one her uncle had given her, more as a toy than +as a serious protection." + +"She couldn't get at it to use it?" + +"No. We were bound as well as blindfolded, you know." He spoke grimly. +"Luckily Miss Ryder had the presence of mind to say nothing about it +till we were alone in the hut, our hands untied. Then she gave it to me, +and we found to our dismay that there was only one cartridge left." + +"How was that?" He spoke quickly, but there was no suspicion in his tone +now. + +"Miss Ryder explained that she had been practising shooting with her +uncle and had forgotten to reload. But"--he paused--"even had it been +fully charged, I'm afraid our fate would have been unchanged." + +Cheniston rose suddenly, took a few aimless steps across the floor, and +then sank down on the bed again almost in his former position. In front +of him Anstice stood motionless, his hands, clenched now, still in his +pockets, his eyes the only live feature in the grey pallor of his face. + +"Well!" Suddenly he threw back his head with a restless gesture, as +though the strain of the interview was beginning to tell on him. "After +hearing our sentence we were taken back to our hut, there to await the +moment of sunrise--of our death." + +"They gave you no food?" The question was almost futile in its +triviality; but Anstice answered it quite naturally. + +"Oh, yes, we were given food of a sort. Luckily I had a little flask of +brandy, and once--at midnight--I persuaded Miss Ryder to take a few +drops. She was splendidly brave throughout." + +There was a short silence. Both men felt that the crux of the interview +was at hand; and each, in his way, was preparing himself for it. + +"Well?" It was Cheniston who spoke first. "The night wore on, I suppose, +and you saw no hope of escape? But didn't you guess your absence would +be remarked upon?" + +"Of course. And we hoped against hope that someone would remember the +Temple." + +"They did--in the end?" + +"Yes, and made all possible speed to reach it. But by that time we had +been taken away, there was no one to be seen, and of course all traces +of us had absolutely disappeared." + +"Then how did they find you in the end?" + +"The native servant who had talked of the wonders of the Temple to Miss +Ryder was aghast when he found what harm his talk had done. It seems she +had cured his little boy of some childish illness, and he simply +worshipped her in consequence. So he was wild to rescue her, and after +dispatching parties of searchers in every likely direction he suddenly +recollected hearing of some mysterious High Priest in a tiny village in +the hills, which was so securely hidden from observation that very few +people knew of its existence." + +"Colonel Godfrey said he would never have reached it without the +guidance of some native," said Cheniston thoughtfully. "Would that be +the man himself?" + +"Yes. It seemed his father had known the way and had told him in direst +secrecy how to reach the village; and when the officers were ready to +start he went with them, and by some stroke of luck hit the right road +at once, although the directions were fearfully complicated." + +"If only you had known----" + +"Do you think I don't say that to myself day after day?" Anstice's brow +was pearled with sweat. "If I had had the faintest idea there was any +chance of a rescue----" + +"I know, I know!" The other man moved restlessly. "Good God, man, I'm +not condemning you"--Anstice flushed hotly--"I'm only saying what a +pitiful mistake the whole thing was ... the tragedy might have been +averted if only----" + +"It's no use talking now." Anstice's tone was icy. "The thing's +happened, the mistake is made and can't be unmade. Only, if you think +_you_ could have let her fall into the hands of those fanatics--well, I +couldn't, that's all." + +"She ... she asked you to ... to save her from that?" He hung on the +other man's answer as though his own life depended upon it. + +"Yes. I shouldn't have ventured to shoot her without her permission, you +know!" In a moment he repented of the ghastly pleasantry into which +exasperation had led him. "Forgive me, Cheniston--the thing's got on my +nerves ... I hardly know what I'm saying...." + +Cheniston, who had turned a sickly white beneath his bronze, looked at +him fiercely. + +"I'm making all allowances for you," he said between his teeth, "but I +can't stand much of that sort of thing, you know. Suppose you tell me, +without more ado, the nature of the--the bargain between you." + +Without more ado Anstice complied. + +"Miss Ryder made me promise that if the sun should rise before any help +came to us I would shoot her with my own hand so that she should not +have to face death--or worse--at the hands of our enemies." + +"You thought it might be--worse?" + +"Yes. My father was a doctor in China at the time of the Boxer rising," +said Anstice with apparent irrelevance. "And as a boy I heard stories +of--of atrocities to women--which haunted me for years. On my soul, +Cheniston"--he spoke with a sincerity which the other man could not +question--"I was ready--no, glad, to do Miss Ryder the service she asked +me." + +Twice Cheniston tried to speak, and twice his dry lips refused their +office. At last he conquered his weakness. + +"You waited till the sun rose ... and then ... you were sure ... you did +not doubt that the moment had come?" + +"No. I waited as long as I dared ... the sun had risen and we heard the +clamour in the courtyard outside...." + +"And so----" Again his parched lips would not obey his bidding. + +"When the men were at the very door of the hut I carried out my +promise," said Anstice steadily. "She closed her eyes ... I told her to, +so that she should not be afraid to see death coming ... and then ..." +at the recollection of that last poignant moment a slow shudder shook +him from head to foot, "... it was all over in a second. She did not +suffer--of that, at least, you may be certain." + +Cheniston's hand was over his eyes; and for a space the room was very +still. + +Then: + +"And you--you went out, as you thought, to meet your own death?" + +"Yes--and I wish to God I'd met it," said Anstice with an uncontrollable +outburst of bitterness. "I endured the shame, the horror of it all in +vain. You know what happened ... how just as the men were about to fire +the rescuers burst into the courtyard.... My God, why were they so late! +Or, being late, why did they come at all!" + +Cheniston's blue eyes, which had been full of a natural human anguish, +grew suddenly hard. + +"You are not particularly grateful to your rescuers," he said. "Yet if +they had been a few minutes later, you too would have been beyond their +help." + +Anstice was quick to notice the renewed hostility in the young man's +tone. + +"Just so." His manner, too, had changed. "But can you expect me to feel +a very vivid gratitude to the men who restored my life to me, seeing +with what memories that life must always be haunted?" + +"Need you endure the haunting of those memories?" + +The question, spoken quietly, yet with an obvious significance, took +Anstice aback. For a moment he frowned, his dazed mind fumbling after +the speaker's meaning. + +"_Need_ I?" Suddenly he knew what Cheniston had meant to imply. "Ah--you +mean a man may always determine the length of his days?" + +Cheniston nodded, never taking his eyes off the other's face. + +"I see. Well, suicide would be a way out, of course. But"--for a second +his eyes hardened, grew stern--"I don't mean to take that way--unless +life grows too much for me. A second--mistake"--he spoke slowly--"would +not annul the first." + +"No." Cheniston's face had lost all its boyishness; it looked haggard, +unhappy, old. "Possibly not. But when one has made a mistake of so +tragic a nature I should have thought one would have been only too ready +to pay the price of one's miscalculation." + +For a second Anstice stared at him silently. + +"Just so," he said at last, very quietly, taking his hands out of his +pockets for the first time. "The question is, What is the price? And do +you really think that to repudiate a debt by running away from one's +creditor, so to speak, is as satisfactory a settlement as to pay it coin +by coin, each coin drawn from one's own heart's blood?" + +This time it was Cheniston who stared at him in non-comprehension. +Presently he said slowly: + +"I think I understand. You mean the strongest man is the one who can +stand up to any situation with which life confronts him; can pay a debt +to the uttermost farthing though it may make him bankrupt in the doing. +That is what you mean?" + +"Yes," said Anstice steadily. "That is what I mean. God only knows what +the price may be, and whether I shall have the coin in my treasury when +I'm called on to pay ... if I am so called upon. And by the way"--his +face hardened--"do I understand you to mean that I'm your debtor--that +it is to you that the price may--one day--be paid?" + +Cheniston made no reply. The hostility had suddenly died out of his +eyes; and for a moment Anstice caught a glimpse of the man Hilda Ryder +had loved. + +"You know"--his square fingers played absently with his cigarette +case--"I have loved Hilda Ryder all my life. We were brought up together +as children; I was a few years older than she ... by the way, how old +are you?" + +Surprised, Anstice owned to his twenty-nine years. + +"And I am twenty-six. Hilda was twenty-four last year. Well, all my life +she has been the one--the only--woman in the world for me. We've been +engaged four years; her people wouldn't sanction it till she was twenty, +but we always knew we were made for one another, and Hilda used to say +she would rather be my wife than marry the richest, the most famous man +on earth!" + +Suddenly Anstice heard her soft voice in his ear. + +"To marry him ... perhaps in time to bear his children, would be to me +the most glorious destiny in the world...." + +A spasm of uncontrollable anguish convulsed his features for a moment; +but Cheniston was too intent on his own self-revelation to notice. + +"Life--without--Hilda seems impossible somehow." He laughed drearily. +"We have always been so happy together ... I can't imagine going on +without her." + +He paused, but Anstice said nothing. He did not know what to say. + +"I wonder--can I go on? Is it really required of me that I should +continue to hang on to an existence which is absolutely devoid of all +attraction, of all meaning?" He fixed his blue eyes on the other's face. +"You're a doctor, aren't you?" + +Anstice nodded. + +"Yes." + +"Well, I daresay it has happened in your experience that some poor devil +doomed to a lifetime of torture, condemned, perhaps, to bear the burden +of the sins of his ancestors, has begged you to furnish him with the +means of escape ... there must be cases in which death is infinitely +preferable to life, and a doctor must know plenty of safe ways of +setting free the poor imprisoned wretch as one would free a miserable +caged bird. Tell me, has such an experience ever come your way?" He +spoke almost irritably now. + +"Well," said Anstice, "and if it has? What then?" + +"How have you answered such entreaties, I wonder? Even you can't pretend +that life is always a sacred thing; that a man isn't sometimes justified +in turning his back on the existence he never desired and yet has to +endure." He paused, and his eyes held a queer blue glitter. "Well, have +you nothing to say?" + +"No," said Anstice resolutely, moving a step forward as he spoke. "On +such a subject I have nothing to say--to you. If, as seems possible, you +are suggesting that I should furnish either you or myself with an easy +solution of the problem of our respective lives, I fear I must decline +the suggestion. I'm a doctor, not a murderer, although"--suddenly he bit +his lip and his face turned grey--"you, of all men, may be pardoned for +thinking me ready to act as one." + +The passing softness which had given him back his youth faded out of +Cheniston's face; and when he spoke even his voice sounded years older. + +"Well, it's no use talking, I suppose. After all"--his lip curled--"no +man is dependent on another's good offices if he decides to cut short +his sojourn on this delightful planet. Though it strikes me that if, as +you say, you feel you owe me a debt, you might perhaps allow me to fix +the method of payment." + +He stopped short, taken aback by Anstice's imperious gesture. + +"Look here, Cheniston." He spoke curtly, his eyes ablaze. "Life has +given us both--me as well as you--a terrible jar. But you won't make +things better by resenting what has happened. You have lost the woman +you loved, but I have lost a good deal more. With the best +intentions"--he smiled ironically at his own phrase--"I have ruined your +life; and my own. I am ready to admit I owe you some reparation for the +wrong I have quite innocently done you; and I am ready, also, to pay you +any price in reason which you may ask, either now or in the future. But +the price must be one which may decently be paid." + +"I see." Cheniston spoke slowly. "I think, after all, we may shelve the +question of payment between you and me. Personally I hope--you will +forgive my frankness--that we may never be called upon to meet again. +You see"--his voice broke, but he cleared his throat angrily and went +on--"I can't help remembering that if you had waited Miss Ryder would +still be alive." + +Anstice was stung to a last impulse of self-defence. + +"If I had waited--and the rescuers had not come, it is possible death +would have been a merciful alternative to Miss Ryder's fate," he said. +"I have tried to explain that what I did was done--as Miss Ryder would +be the first to admit--for the best. But I see you are determined to +look upon me as a criminal; and as I don't intend to excuse myself +further, well, I will echo your hope that we may never meet again." + +And without any further attempt at farewell Anstice turned on his heel +and walked out of the room; leaving Bruce Cheniston staring after him +with an expression of amazement not untinged with shame in his narrow +blue eyes. + + + + +BOOK I + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +"If you please, sir, a telephone message has come for you from Cherry +Orchard just now." + +Anstice put down the paper he had been idly studying and looked at the +maid. + +"Cherry Orchard? That's the big house on the Littlefield Road, isn't +it?" + +"Yes, sir. It has just been reopened, cook tells me." + +"Oh. And I am wanted there?" + +"Yes, sir. At once, the message was." + +"Very good. Tell Andrews to bring round the car immediately. And put +dinner back a bit, Alice, please." + +"Yes, sir." The trim maid hurried away, and Anstice rose to obey the +summons, congratulating himself on the fact that the night was fine, and +the Littlefield Road good going. + +Ten minutes later he was on his way; and in due course arrived at his +destination, a pretty old gabled house standing in a large and +old-fashioned garden, from whose famous cherry trees the place derived +its quaint name. + +Six months earlier Anstice had bought a practice in the Midlands, on the +death of its former owner; but this was the first time he had visited +Cherry Orchard; and as he waited for his ring to be answered he +remembered the maid's remark as to the recent reopening of the house +with a slight feeling of curiosity as to its tenant. + +He was not kept waiting long. An elderly manservant speedily appeared; +and his face, which wore a worried expression, lightened as he saw +Anstice standing on the steps. + +"Thank God you've come, sir." The gratitude was so obviously sincere +that Anstice felt glad he had not delayed his coming. "If you'll kindly +go upstairs, sir--the housekeeper is waiting for you, I believe." + +He relieved Anstice of his hat and coat with hands which shook; and at +the same moment a swarthy, foreign-looking woman hurried forward with +unmistakable eagerness. + +"You are the doctor, sir? Then will you come up at once? My mistress is +upstairs, and the sooner you see her the better." + +Without wasting time in questioning her, Anstice motioned to the speaker +to lead the way; which she did accordingly, hurrying up the black oak +staircase at a surprising pace; and giving Anstice no time to do more +than glance at the artistic treasures which were in evidence on every +side. + +She led him a few steps down a broad gallery, lighted by large and +finely-designed windows; and paused outside a door, turning to him with +an expression of appeal--he could call it nothing else--in her small but +intensely bright eyes. + +"You'll be very gentle with the poor lady, sir? You won't--won't fluster +her?" She broke off suddenly, appeared as though about to say something +more, then closed her lips as though she had thought better of the +impulse, and opening the door invited Anstice to enter. + +Somehow her last words had given Anstice a queer, but possibly +justifiable, suspicion that he was about to encounter a _malade +imaginaire_; and just for a second he felt a spasm of irritation at the +stress which had been laid on the urgent need for haste. + +All such thoughts fled, however, as his eyes fell on the face of the +patient he had come to see; for here was no neurotic invalid, no +hysterical sufferer who craved sympathy for quite imaginary woes. + +On the bed drawn up in front of one of the big casement windows lay a +young woman with closed eyes; and as he approached her side Anstice saw +that it was not sleep but unconsciousness which claimed her at that +moment. + +"How long has she been like this?" He spoke sharply, one hand on the +slender wrist. + +"It's two hours since she was seized, sir." The woman's voice shook. "No +sooner was my mistress in the house--she came home only to-day--than she +fainted clean away. We brought her round, the maids and me, and she was +better for a bit ... then up she would get to look after Miss Cherry, +and off she went again. It's nearly half an hour ago ... and we got so +anxious that Hagyard telephoned for you ... we thought it was the right +thing to do." + +"Quite the right thing." He was too intent on his patient to pay much +attention to the woman's speech; but she was quite content to stand +silent as he tried one means of restoration after another; and when, +finally, his efforts were successful, both Anstice and the housekeeper +breathed more freely. + +"Your mistress ... her name, by the way...." + +"Mrs. Carstairs, sir." She spoke with a tinge of reluctance, and even in +the stress of the moment Anstice wondered why. + +"Oh. Well, Mrs. Carstairs is coming round now, she will be herself in a +moment or two. By the way, just go and fill a hot-water bottle, will +you? It is chilly to-night, and Mrs. Carstairs will probably feel cold." + +With a last look at her mistress the woman turned to obey; and Anstice +moved back to the bed to find his patient's eyes open and fixed upon him +with something of perplexity in their depths. + +"Don't try to move just yet," he counselled her quickly. "You've had a +bad faint, and must lie still for a little while. Do you feel better?" + +"Much better, thank you." Her voice, though it sounded weak, was oddly +deep in tone. "I suppose I fainted. Did they send for you?" + +"Yes. Your servants were getting alarmed." He smiled. "But there is no +need for alarm now. What you want is a long rest. You have been +overtiring yourself, perhaps?" + +A peculiar smile, which was mocking and yet sad, curved her lips for a +moment. Then she said quietly: + +"Perhaps I have overtired myself a little lately. But it was quite +unavoidable." + +"I see." Something about this speech puzzled Anstice, and for a moment +he was rather at a loss to know what to say in reply. + +She did not wait for him, however. + +"Do you think I shall faint again? These faints are so +unpleasant--really I don't think"--she paused, and when she resumed her +voice sounded still deeper, with a true contralto note--"I don't think +even death itself can be much more horrible. The sensation of falling, +of sinking through the earth----" + +She broke off, and he hastened to reply. + +"I don't think you need anticipate any further trouble to-night. I +suppose you have had your heart sounded?" + +Again she smiled; and once more he could have sworn there was mockery in +her smile. + +"Yes. But I don't think my heart is wrong. It--it is due to other +causes----" + +She stopped abruptly as the door opened, and the woman came in, carrying +the hot-water bottle for which she had been sent. + +"That you, Tochatti?" She seemed to welcome the interruption. "Thank you +so much." She let the servant fuss over her for a moment, then turned to +Anstice. "You see," she said, "I am well looked after." + +"I am glad you are," he rejoined promptly. "You know you are really in +need of a little care at present. If you will allow me, I should like to +sound your heart myself." + +She acquiesced rather wearily; and having satisfied himself that the +state in which he found her was due rather to weakness than to any +specific disease, he turned to the strangely named woman, whom he now +guessed to be a foreigner, and gave her a few directions for the night. + +"I'll see to it, sir," she said quietly; and Anstice knew his orders +would be faithfully carried out. + +"Well, I can't do you any good by staying," he said, bending over the +bed and holding out his hand. "But send for me if you want me, won't +you? And I'll look in to-morrow to see how you are." + +"One moment." Her hand in his felt strangely alive in spite of her +recent unconsciousness. "Put on a little more light, please, Tochatti. I +should like to see"--she spoke without any embarrassment--"to what sort +of person I am indebted this evening." + +When, the next instant, the room was flooded with light, Anstice had no +scruples in looking at his patient with an interest which, though less +openly expressed, was quite as strong as that with which she evidently +intended to scrutinize him. + +The first thing he noticed was that Mrs. Carstairs was young--probably +not more than twenty-five. The next, that she looked as though she had +recently gone through some nerve-racking experience; and the last, which +came upon him with a shock of unjustifiable surprise, that she was more +than commonly good-looking. + +Her features, as he saw for the first time, were classical in outline, +and the silky black hair which lay in heavy waves on her forehead shaded +a brow which in contour was almost purely Greek. Her skin was of so thin +and transparent a whiteness that her black eyebrows traced two inky +lines across her face; and the almond shape of her sapphire blue eyes +gave them a somewhat Oriental look, in spite of their eminently Western +colouring. + +When, in response to his stare, she vouchsafed a faint smile, he saw +that the mouth which was sad in repose was fascinating when she smiled; +and the white teeth which the smile displayed were perfect in shape and +colour. + +"Well?" Her deep voice took him so much aback that he absolutely +started. "You've seen me--haggard wreck that I am--and I've seen you. So +now we may consider our acquaintance inaugurated and say good-night." + +"Certainly." He looked at her closely; and noted her extreme pallor. "I +hope you will sleep--you look shockingly tired." + +"I told you I was a wreck," she said, still with that inscrutable smile. +"But if you will take me in hand I have no doubt I shall soon recover my +ordinary rude health." + +"I hope so." His tone was absent--he was wondering whether he had ever +seen this woman before; and coming, finally, to the conclusion that he +had not. "Well, I will leave you now, and hope to find you a great deal +better in the morning." + +"Thanks." She spoke wearily. "I'm sorry to have troubled you. +Good-night." + +In the hall the manservant waited, and Anstice, pitying his evident +anxiety, spoke reassuringly to him as he took his coat. "Your mistress +is much better now--with a little care she will soon be all right, I +hope." + +"Thank you, sir." The man's voice quivered with feeling. "We--we are all +very anxious when our lady is not well." + +"Of course." Anstice took the hat the servant held and moved to the +door. "Is that nine striking? I didn't know it was so late." + +Yet in spite of the lateness of the hour Anstice did not drive home at a +particularly rapid pace. Something in the episode just closed had +intrigued him, piqued his curiosity as well as stimulated his interest; +and he was wondering, as he drove, what there was about his patient +which suggested a mystery--something, at least, unusual unexpected, in +her character or surroundings. + +"She's uncommonly handsome--but so are heaps of women. Nice house, +plenty of money, I should say, and of course she herself is well bred. +Yet there is something odd about her--about her manner, rather. Looks at +one queerly--almost quizzically--and yet when she smiled she looked +extraordinarily sad." He turned a corner rather carelessly and a +surprised motor-cyclist sounded his horn reproachfully. "I wonder--is +she a widow? There was no sign of a husband, though I believe the +servant said something about a child. Anyhow"--he had reached his own +house now and slowed down before the gate--"I will see her to-morrow and +perhaps learn a little more about her--if there is anything to learn. If +not--well, women love to appear mysterious. There never was a woman yet +who didn't long to rival the Sphinx and appear an enigma in the eyes of +wondering men!" + +And he went in to his belated dinner with a rather cynical smile on his +lips. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Just as Anstice was starting out next morning an urgent telephone +message came through, requesting his help at a suddenly imperative +operation at a country house some miles distant. + +Although he had been in the district only a few months, Anstice was +already known to his professional brothers as a daring and skilful +surgeon; and one man--the one who now called upon his services--was in +the habit of wondering openly why so brilliant a man was content to bury +himself in the country instead of seeking fame and fortune in some one +of the big cities of the world. + +There were those who could have given a very good guess at the reasons +which led Anstice to shun notoriety and welcome the obscurity of +Littlefield; but in the meantime Dr. Willows was left to wonder in vain; +though his wonder was leavened with a genuine admiration for his +colleague's skill, and a fervent gratitude for the other man's +unwearying willingness to give his aid. + +On receiving the message Anstice frowned. + +"That you, Willows? Is it an urgent case? Oh--of course I'll come ... I +must make a few arrangements first ... yes ... yes ... I'll be with you +in half an hour, if that will do." + +He hung up the receiver, and now his manner was alert and keen. There +was about him none of the weariness, the indifference which too often +characterized his demeanour, and led some of his patients to complain +that he took no interest in them or in their sufferings. This was the +man who before that fatal day in India had stood, so it was whispered, +upon the threshold of a brilliant career--the man who, young, +resourceful, scientific, had taken a very real and deep interest in +every detail of his profession, and had led even the most cautious of +his teachers to prophesy for him a life of unvarying success. + +He even looked younger as he consulted his notebook this morning; and +the shoulders which had begun to stoop ever so little were squared, the +head held erect as he scanned the pages before him with quick, resolute +eyes. + +Luckily there was nothing very important on the morning list, no visits +that could not be safely postponed till the afternoon; and one or two +telephone messages soon put things straight and left him free to keep +his appointment with Dr. Willows. + +He had a moment's indecision over the case of his new patient at Cherry +Orchard, but reflecting that if necessary they would probably ring him +up, he judged it safe to put off his visit to Mrs. Carstairs till his +return; and finally went out to his motor with an easy mind. + +Returning home, fatigued but jubilant, at two o'clock, he applied +himself to his lunch; and then attacked his afternoon's work with an +energy engendered by the excellent results of the operation which he, in +company with his friend, had performed that morning. + +Being delayed on various pretexts, it was five o'clock before he found +himself at the pretty house in its fragrant garden; and he rang the bell +rather hastily, with an absurd feeling that the servants would look +reproachfully on his tardy arrival. + +The man seemed, however, to welcome him as he had done the previous +night; and when, a second later, the queerly named Tochatti arrived, her +face wrinkled into a discreet smile. + +"Mrs. Carstairs up to-day?" + +"She is in her room, sir. Will you come up, if you please?" + +He followed her up the broad, shallow stairs, which this afternoon she +took at a more moderate pace; and then she ushered him into the room he +had visited before, falling back so that he went in alone. + +Mrs. Carstairs was lying on a deep couch by one of the open windows, her +white gown set off by vivid blue cushions; and as he advanced Anstice +noticed that she looked even younger than he had judged her on the +preceding night. Her air of utter exhaustion had vanished; and there was +more colour in her lips, though her cheeks still retained their ivory +transparency. + +By her side was a little table bearing a tea-tray, and as Anstice shook +hands, congratulating her at the same time on her restored appearance, +she drew his attention to the teacups. + +"I was just going to have some tea. Be nice and have some with me. Will +you?" + +"Thanks very much." He accepted promptly. "I've been busy all day and +should enjoy a cup of tea. But first--are you really better this +afternoon?" + +"Yes, really." She spoke indifferently, as though the subject failed to +interest her. "I should have gone out, I daresay, but I felt tired, or +lazy, and succumbed to the charms of this delightful couch." + +"You did quite right." He took the cup she held out to him and sat down +in a chair beside the deep Chesterfield. "You know I think you must make +up your mind to take care of yourself for a week or two." + +"I can quite easily do that," Chloe Carstairs answered quietly. "I +hardly think I shall find it difficult to do what the new-woman novels +used to call 'living one's own life'--down here." + +"Certainly there isn't much going on." Anstice was puzzled by her +manner. "Do I understand that you 'belong' here, as the country folks +say?" + +She put down her cup rather suddenly, and faced him squarely, her blue +eyes full of a resolution which added several years to her age. + +"Dr. Anstice." Her deep voice had lost its richness and sounded hard. "I +should like to tell you something of myself. Oh"--she laughed rather +cynically--"I'm not going to bore you with a rhapsody intended to convey +to you that I am a much misunderstood woman and all the rest of it. +Only, if you are to see me again, I think I should like you to know just +who and what I am." + +Mystified, Anstice bowed. + +"Whatever you tell me I shall be proud to hear--and keep to myself," he +said. + +"Thanks." Her manner had lost its slight animation and was once more +weary, indifferent. "Well, first of all, have you ever seen me before?" + +"No. Though I confess that something in your face seemed familiar to me +last night." + +"Oh." She did not seem much impressed. "Well, to put it differently, +have you ever heard of me?" + +"No," said Anstice. "To the best of my belief I have never heard your +name before." + +"I see. Well, I will tell you who I am, and what I am supposed to have +done." No further warmth enlivened her manner, which throughout was +cold, almost, one would have said, absent. "When I was eighteen I +married Major Carstairs, a soldier a good many years older than myself. +Presently I went out to India with him, and lived there for four years, +coming home when our child was three years old." + +She paused. + +"I came here--this was my husband's old home--and settled down with +Cherry. And when I had been in the parish a year or so, there was a +scandal in Littlefield." + +She stopped, and her mouth quivered into a faint smile. + +"Oh, I was not the chief character--at first! It was a case in which the +Vicar's wife won an unenviable notoriety. It seemed there had been a +secret in her life, years before when she was a pretty, silly girl, +which was known to very few besides her husband and, I presume, her own +people. Now you would not think I was a sympathetic person--one in whom +a sentimental, rather neurotic woman would confide. Would you?" + +And looking at her, with her air of cold indifference, of complete +detachment from the world around her, Anstice agreed that he would not +expect her to be the confidante of such a woman. + +"Yet within a month of our meeting Laura Ogden had confided her secret +to me--and a silly, futile story it was." Her pale face looked disdain +at the remembrance. "No harm, of course, was done. I kept her secret and +advised her not to repeat what she had told me to anyone else in +Littlefield." + +"She followed your advice?" Anstice had no idea what was coming, but an +interest to which he had long been a stranger was waking slowly in his +heart. + +"_Chi lo so?_" She shrugged her shoulders. "Afterwards she swore she had +told no one but me. You see it appeared she very soon regretted having +given me her confidence. It happened that shortly after she had told me +her story we had--not a quarrel, because to tell you the truth I wasn't +sufficiently interested in her to quarrel with her--but there was a +slight coolness between us, and for some time we were not on good terms. +Then--well, to cut a long story short, one day anonymous letters and +post cards began to fly about the parish, bearing scurrilous comments on +that unhappy woman's past history. At first the Vicar tried to hush up +the matter, but as you may imagine"--her voice rang with delicate +scorn--"everyone else thoroughly enjoyed talking things over and +wondering and discussing--with the result that the Bishop of the Diocese +heard the tale and came down to hold a private inquiry into the matter." + +She stopped short and held out her hand for his cup. + +"More tea? I haven't finished yet." + +"No more, thank you." He rose, placed his cup on the tray and sat down +again in silence. + +"The Bishop suggested it was a matter for the police. The writer of +those vile communications must be discovered and punished at all costs, +he said. So not only the authorities but all the amateur detectives of +both sexes in the neighbourhood went to work to find the culprit. And +_I_ was the culprit they found." + +"You?" For once in his life Anstice was startled out of his usual +self-control. + +"Yes. They fixed upon me as the anonymous writer of those loathsome +scrawls; and the district was provided with a sensation after its own +heart." + +"But the idea's absurd--monstrous!" Looking at her as she leaned back +among her cushions, with her air of delicate distinction, Anstice could +hardly believe the story she was telling him. + +"So I thought at first." Her blue eyes narrowed. "But in some marvellous +manner they brought the charge home to me. I was the only one, they +said, who knew the story. I had wormed it out of the silly woman, they +alleged, and had then, owing to the subsequent coolness between us, +traded upon my knowledge in order to drive her out of the place." + +"But others must have known the story?" + +"Yes. But I was the only one in Littlefield who knew it." + +"So they said. But in reality----" + +"In reality, of course, it was known to someone else. But that person +took care to keep in the background. When once I had been suggested as +the culprit a quantity of evidence was forthcoming to clinch the matter, +so to speak. I was never particularly popular here, and people were +quite ready to believe me capable of the deed." She smiled faintly. "I +confess one or two things looked black for me--the letters were written +on the kind of paper I used, and though of course the handwriting was +disguised, there was, in one or two letters, an undeniable similarity to +some of my writing." + +"But your word--wasn't that sufficient?" + +The apathy of her manner relaxed for one moment into a kind of cold +amusement. + +"Oh, I gave my word--at first--quite freely. Knowing nothing of the +letters, of course I said so; but I was not believed. I confess +everything was against me. Most of the letters were posted in the pillar +box not a hundred yards from this house--but on one occasion when I had +gone down to Brighton for a couple of days, one of those vile things +bore the Brighton postmark." + +"But----" + +"Oh, I've nearly done." She glanced at the clock. "I am detaining +you--you're in a hurry? Don't mind saying so--this delightful story can +be continued in our next." + +"Please go on." Anstice would not willingly have foregone the rest of +the recital. + +"Well, after various suspicious happenings, which I won't inflict upon +you now, and after being interviewed by the Bishop, by detectives, by a +hundred and one individuals who revelled in the case, I was accused, +tried, and found guilty." + +"Found guilty? Impossible!" He sprang up, quite unable to sit still +another moment. Somehow he had not expected this climax. + +"Yes. I was found guilty." Her voice held little expression. "And +sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment. The judge who sentenced me +informed me--and the world at large--that he deemed it expedient to +'make an example' of me--only he put it more legally--as an educated +young woman, of apparent refinement, who had committed a crime connected +generally with illiterate and ignorant persons of degenerate +tendencies." + +"But you--you never served the sentence--such a vindictive sentence, +too!" + +"Yes, I did." For the first time her face changed, a hint of tragedy +appeared in her studiously passionless eyes. "You look surprised, but I +assure you it is true. I served my sentence, and came out of prison +exactly eight weeks ago." + +"Eight weeks? But you have only just come here?" + +"Yes. First I went down into Kent to stay with an old family friend who +had taken charge of Cherry--my little girl--while I was"--she hesitated, +then spoke with a directness he felt to be brutal--"in prison. I only +came here yesterday, and I suppose the shock of finding myself back in +my happy home"--he was sure she was speaking ironically now--"was too +much for my--nerves." + +"But, Mrs. Carstairs"--he looked down at her with perplexity in his +face--"do I understand you to mean you have deliberately come back to +live in the place which has treated you so shamefully?" + +"Why not?" Her long, blue eyes were inscrutable. "I'm not ashamed of +coming back. You see, I really don't care in the very least what these +people say about me. I don't even bear them malice. Prison life is +supposed to make one bitter, isn't it? You hear a lot about the 'prison +taint,' whatever that may be. Well, I don't feel conscious of having +sustained any taint. I have suffered a great wrong"--her contralto voice +was quite unmoved as she made the assertion--"a very grievous injustice +has been done to me; but now that the physical unpleasantness of the +ordeal is over I don't feel as though I--my ego, my soul, if you +like--had undergone any particular degradation." + +"I suppose"--the question was forced from him by his interest in the +human document she was spreading before his eyes--"I suppose what you +call the physical unpleasantness is really hard to bear?" + +He was sorry he had put the question as he saw the slow shudder which +for a moment convulsed her immobility. + +"Yes." For a second her voice was almost passionate. "I don't think I +could make you understand the horror of that side of imprisonment. Most +prison reformers, as I say, prate of the injury done to the soul of the +prisoner. For my part--it if were worth while, which it isn't--I would +always refuse to forgive those enemies who subjected my body to such +indignities." + +Her vehemence, so much at variance with her usual manner, made Anstice +uneasy about her. + +"See here, Mrs. Carstairs." He sat down on the couch beside her, and +spoke persuasively. "You must promise me not to let your mind dwell on +your terrible experience. Honestly, do you think it wise to stay here? +Won't it be painful for you to live among the people who know you? +Wouldn't it be better to go away for a short time, travel a little? +There are plenty of places off the beaten track where you would be able +to rest and get back your health and your spirits." + +She turned to him with a hint of a kindlier manner than she had hitherto +displayed. + +"Dr. Anstice, to tell you the truth I don't want to travel. I shall be +happier here, in my own home, with my old servants round me, able to do +exactly as I choose from morning to night." + +She hesitated a moment; then resumed in her former indifferent tone: + +"You see, my husband, although he refuses to believe in my innocence, +has handed over this house to me; and under my marriage settlement I +have quite a large income----" + +He interrupted her abruptly-- + +"Mrs. Carstairs, forgive me--did you say your husband refused to believe +you innocent?" + +"Yes. My husband--like the majority of the world--believes me guilty," +said Chloe Carstairs. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +The story he had heard on the occasion of his second visit to Cherry +Orchard haunted Anstice for days. There was something so incongruous in +the notion of this woman having served a sentence of imprisonment for an +offence which, of all others, might well be supposed the most impossible +for any decent person to commit; yet Anstice knew instinctively that +Mrs. Carstairs had spoken the truth; and although for the last few years +he had been far too much occupied with his own private grudge against +Fate to spare any pity for the woes of others, he did feel a surprising +sympathy for the young and apparently lonely woman whom the world had +treated so cruelly. + +That she was innocent of the crime with which she was charged, Anstice +never doubted. Since the catastrophe which had altered his whole outlook +on life, he had been inclined to be cynical regarding the good faith of +mankind in general; but Mrs. Carstairs' manner had carried conviction by +its very lack of emphasis. She had not protested her innocence--indeed, +he could barely remember in what words she had given him to understand +that she was not guilty of the loathsome deed; yet her very quietness, +the very indifference of her manner as she told her story carried more +weight than an avalanche of protestation would have done. + +As a medical man Anstice was something of a student of physiognomy; and +although Mrs. Carstairs' face was not one to be easily read, the shape +of her brow and the classical outline of her features seemed to Anstice +to preclude any possibility of the morbid and degenerate taint which +must have inspired the communications of whose authorship she had been +accused. + +The very fact that she did not appear to care whether or no he believed +in her strengthened Anstice's belief that she was an innocent and +much-wronged woman; and in his mind he linked her with himself as one of +the victims of an unfavourable and ruthless destiny. + +After attending her for a week Anstice declared her to be in no further +need of his services; and she acquiesced with the same air of half-weary +graciousness with which she had welcomed his visits. + +He noticed that she was rarely to be seen in the village or small town +of Littlefield. Occasionally she would pass him on the road in a +beautiful motor with which he supposed her husband to have endowed her, +and at these times she had generally her small daughter, wrapped in +furs, on the seat beside her. + +Anstice's introduction to the latter took place about a fortnight after +his last visit to Cherry Orchard in a professional capacity. It chanced +that he was interested in a small Convalescent Home for Children which +had recently been opened in the neighbourhood, and on one or two days +had cut short his visit to Mrs. Carstairs on the grounds that his +presence was required at the Home. Rather to his disappointment Mrs. +Carstairs had not evinced the slightest interest in the scheme, and his +surprise was proportionately great when, on one fine spring morning, he +received a large bunch of beautiful daffodils from Cherry Orchard, with +a rather carelessly worded request that he would give them to the Home +if they were likely to be welcome there. + +Anstice took the flowers with him on his morning visit, and the pleasure +they gave and the gratitude with which they were received led him to +snatch a moment on his way home to call upon the donor and thank her in +person for her kindly gift. + +As he turned his car in at the gate he hoard sounds of laughter, and a +few words in a child's high-pitched voice; and when he was half-way up +the drive he discovered from whence the merriment issued. + +Just ahead of him was a motor-cycle, driven, it would appear, by a girl +in a trim motoring-suit, while perched on the carrier at the back, in a +fashion which made Anstice's blood run chill, was a small child whom he +recognized as the daughter of the house, Cherry Carstairs, aged +something less than six years. + +The two were chattering and laughing, the driver sounding her horn in a +delightfully irresponsible fashion, and both were much too intent on +their progress and on the noise they were making to realize that a car +was coming up the drive immediately behind them. + +Instinctively Anstice slowed up, wishing the lively pair at Jericho; but +luckily they had nearly reached the front door, and in another minute +the motor-cycle had come to a standstill and the riders dismounted in +safety. + +"There--we've not come to grief, this time, have we, Cherry Ripe!" The +elder girl spoke gaily. "And now we'll see what Mother has to say--oh!" + +At that moment she beheld the car, which was coming to a standstill, and +she looked at the man who drove it with a frankness which was curiously +unselfconscious. At the same minute Mrs. Carstairs came slowly forward +onto the steps, and Anstice, dismounting, approached her without doing +more than glance at the girl-motorist. + +"Good morning, Mrs. Carstairs. I have come to thank you for your lovely +flowers." They shook hands as he spoke. "The Matron at the Home made me +promise to come and convey her thanks to you at the first possible +moment. That's my excuse for calling now!" + +He had spoken more impulsively than usual, with a genuine desire to show +his gratitude for her kindness; but there was no answering warmth in her +voice, and, not for the first time, he felt chilled by her lack of +response. + +"I'm glad they liked them." Her tone was perfunctory. "But I'm afraid +the gratitude is not due to me. It was my small daughter who was fired +to enthusiasm by something Tochatti told her, and insisted on cutting +the daffodils herself." + +"I see." In spite of himself Anstice felt repulsed by her manner, which, +made his warmly spoken gratitude appear superfluous. "Well, in any case +the result is the same--delight in the wards and something beautiful and +fragrant to lighten the children's sufferings." + +"Pray tell Cherry--she will be pleased." Possibly Mrs. Carstairs had +noted the stiffness of his speech, and in her languid way desired to +soothe his feelings. "I forget if you have seen my little daughter. I +must introduce you to her--and----" she turned to the young girl who +stood by and laid a hand on her arm--"to her friend--and mine." + +Anstice glanced towards the two who still stood, hand-in-hand, on the +top step, and Mrs. Carstairs performed the ceremony of introduction in +the deep, rich voice which was somehow part of her personality. + +"Iris, let me introduce Dr. Anstice ... Miss Wayne." + +Anstice bowed, but the girl held out her hand with a youthful +friendliness which was attractive. + +"How d'you do? I'm glad I didn't know your car was behind me as we came +up the avenue. I don't mind what I meet, but I always hate things coming +up behind my cycle," she said pleasantly. + +"If you are in the habit of giving such youthful passengers rides I +don't wonder you're nervous," he replied; and the girl opened her grey +eyes widely. + +"Nervous! I'm not!" She spoke indignantly. "But when your allowance is +strictly limited, and you have to pay for repairs yourself, you don't +want people running into you from the back and perhaps smashing up your +pet Douglas!" + +"I see." He smiled discreetly, and Mrs. Carstairs claimed his attention +once more. + +"And this"--she drew the child forward--"is Cherry." + +"How are you?" Anstice, who was always polite to children, shook hands, +and the child looked at him with a pair of very clear brown eyes. + +"Quite well, thank you, my dear," she responded gravely, and Iris Wayne +was secretly much diverted by the expression of astonishment which this +form of address evoked in the face of the hearer. + +"You like motoring?" Anstice felt constrained to keep up the +conversation, and Cherry nodded calmly. + +"Very much, my dear. Do you?" + +"Yes...." Anstice experienced an overwhelming desire to repeat her +endearing term, but luckily refrained. "This is my car--will you come +for a ride with me one day?" + +For a second Cherry regarded him with a pensive courtesy which was +almost embarrassing. Then: + +"With pleasure, my dear," she replied, and Iris laughed outright. + +"You fickle child! And you have always declared you liked my motor +better than any car that ever was seen!" + +"So I do." Cherry looked up at her with unsmiling gravity. "But----" + +"But now you must all come in and have lunch." Mrs. Carstairs turned to +Anstice. "Dr. Anstice, you can spare us a little time, can't you? Lunch +is quite ready, and Cherry, I'm sure, endorses my invitation!" + +He hesitated, torn between a desire to accept and an uncomfortable +suspicion that he could not afford the time. + +"You will have to lunch somewhere, you know!" Her manner was a trifle +warmer than usual. "And it will really save time to do it here!" + +"My lunch is a very hurried affair as a rule," he said, smiling. "But if +I may run away as soon as I've finished I'll be delighted to stay." + +He felt a small hand slip into his as he spoke, and looked down, to meet +Cherry's clear eyes. + +"Do stay, my dear!" Her tone was a quaint imitation of her mother's, and +before the twofold invitation Anstice's scruples were put to flight. + +"I'll stay with pleasure," he said, patting the kind little hand; and +with an air of satisfaction Cherry led him into the hall, her mother and +Miss Wayne following their lead. + +Once seated at the pretty round table, sweet with the fragrance of +hyacinths in a big Swansea bowl, and bright with silver and glass, +Anstice owned inwardly to a feeling of pleasure at his position. +Although as a rule he loved his solitude, welcomed the silence of the +old panelled house he had taken in Littlefield, and shunned those of his +kind who had no direct need of his services, there were times when his +self-sought loneliness weighed heavily upon his spirit, when the ghosts +of the past, whose shrouded forms were ever present to remind him that +he had made a fatal mistake on that bygone morning in India, were but +poor company. + +At first, during that first haunted year, when Hilda Ryder's face was +ever before his eyes, her sad and tender accents in his ear, he had +sought many and dubious ways of laying those same ghosts. It had seemed +to him, during those dreadful days, that although some instinct within +him forbade him to end his own life, none could doubt his right to +alleviate his mental suffering by any means he knew; and when temporary +oblivion, a blessed forgetfulness, could be purchased at the price of a +pinprick, it seemed not only overscrupulous but foolish to forgo that +Nirvana. + +But that indulgence, too, had nearly ended in disaster; and for the last +two years his only use for the alluring drug had been to alleviate the +pain of others. Yet the struggle was a hard one; and he wondered +sometimes, rather hopelessly, if he would have the strength to continue +it to the bitter end. + +But to-day, sitting in the pretty room, with the sun pouring in through +the casement windows, widely opened to the green garden beyond, Anstice +owned that for once life seemed to be in harmony with the beautiful +spring world around. + +As for Iris Wayne, he told himself presently that he had rarely seen a +prettier girl! Although at present his admiration was quite impersonal, +it was none the less sincere; and his approval of her grey eyes, set +widely apart beneath her crown of sunny hair, of the delicately rounded +face, the frank mouth, which disclosed teeth as white as milk, was +enhanced by the fact that every line, every tint spoke of flawless +health and a mind attuned to the simple, gracious things of life rather +than those which are complex and hard to comprehend. + +Looking from Iris, bright-eyed and alert, to Chloe, sitting at the head +of her table in a white cloth gown which somehow looked elaborate in +spite of its utter simplicity, Anstice was struck by the contrast +between them. Although the difference in their actual ages was not +great, they might well have been at different stages of life. For all +her youth, all her grace, her black and white distinction, Chloe was a +woman, and no one looking at her would have doubted that to her had come +some of the most vital moments of a woman's life. But Iris Wayne was +only a girl, an untried warrior in the battle of existence. The glance +of her large and radiant eyes was far more akin to that of the child +Cherry's brown orbs than to the serious, rather cynical regard which +habitually dwelt in Mrs. Carstairs' sapphire-blue eyes; and in every +look, every word, was the delicious freshness of a joyous youth. Yet he +fancied there was something in the curve of her lips, in the shape of +her head, which betokened strength of character as well as lightness of +heart. He fancied that her mouth could be tender as well as gay, that +her eyes might one day look into the eyes of a man with a promise in +their depths of strong and steadfast womanhood. + +It chanced presently that Anstice was offered some strawberries, +floating in a delicious-looking syrup; and a glance at his hostess +betrayed his half-humorous perplexity. + +"I know it isn't the right season for strawberries," said Mrs. Carstairs +with a smile. "But these are some of our own, bottled by a famous method +of Tochatti's. Do try them and give us your opinion." + +Anstice complied; and found them excellent. + +"They are delicious," he said, "and bring summer very close. Don't you +like them?" he asked Cherry, who was demurely nibbling a macaroon. + +"No thank you, my dear," replied Cherry gravely. "They give me a pain in +my head." + +"Oh, do they?" Anstice was nonplussed by this extraordinary assertion, +the grounds for which were not borne out by such medical skill as he +possessed; but chancing to look across the table at Iris Wayne he found +her dimpling deliciously at his perplexity. + +"You look puzzled, Dr. Anstice!" She laughed outright. "You see you +don't understand how it happens that a pain in the head is connected +with strawberries!" + +"I don't," he said, "but if you will kindly explain----" + +"May I, Cherry?" She looked at the child with a mischievous sparkle in +her eyes, and Cherry nodded. + +"If you like, my dear. But _I_ think it's rather a silly story." + +Notwithstanding this expression of opinion Iris entered forthwith into +an explanation. + +"You see, Dr. Anstice, Cherry came to stay with me last summer when the +strawberries were ripe; and seeing the bed covered with netting--to keep +off the birds"--she smiled--"she thought it very hard that the poor +little things should not have their share." + +"You had heaps and heaps for yourself," came a reproachful voice from +the bottom of the table where Cherry sat in state. + +"Certainly--until you came on the scene, Cherry Ripe! Well, Dr. Anstice, +to cut a long story short, Cherry thought us so selfish and cruel to +prevent the poor birds sharing our fruit that she slipped into the +kitchen garden one very hot morning, and devoted a good hour to taking +up the netting--with the result that the stooping down with the sun +beating on her head gave her a touch of sunstroke." + +"You forget I had eaten a few strawberries--just to encourage the +birdies." Evidently Cherry liked accuracy in any statement, even when it +militated against herself. + +"Well, whether it was the sun or the strawberries, the fact remains +Cherry was in bed for three days, and since then strawberries are +_tabu_. Isn't it so, Mrs. Carstairs?" + +"Yes, Iris." Chloe's voice was more weary than usual, as though the +subject did not interest her; and suddenly Anstice remembered that +during the previous summer she had been shut away from the beautiful +world of sun and strawberries and roses red and white.... + +A moment later Chloe rose from the table; and Anstice stole a look at +his watch as they passed into the hall. + +As though she divined his action Chloe turned to him. + +"You will spare time for a cup of coffee? We have not lingered over our +lunch." + +Anstice hesitated, and Cherry again added her entreaties to the +invitation. + +"Do stay a little longer, my dear. Iris will have to go in a minute, but +I want her to sing me a song first." + +"Do you sing, Miss Wayne?" Looking at her firm round throat and deep +chest he thought it possible she sang well. + +"Yes." She shook her head at Cherry. "But how can I sing after meringues +and strawberries, you bad child?" + +"You always say that," returned Cherry placidly. "And then you sing most +bee-autifully!" + +Iris coloured at this obviously genuine compliment and Anstice laughed +outright. + +"After that testimonial, Miss Wayne, I hope you don't expect me to run +away without hearing you!" He turned to his hostess. "I will stay for a +cup of coffee with pleasure, Mrs. Carstairs, and you will persuade Miss +Wayne to sing, won't you?" + +"Certainly." They were in the cool, hyacinth-scented drawing-room by +now, and Chloe drew the girl towards the grand piano which stood by one +of the big latticed windows. "Sing to us at once, Iris, before you have +your coffee. Will you?" + +"Of course I will." She seated herself as she spoke. "What shall it be? +Cherry, you know all my songs. What do you want to-day?" + +After due consideration Cherry gave her verdict for "the song about the +lady in the wood;" and although both Mrs. Carstairs and Iris rallied her +on the mournfulness of her choice, Cherry stuck to her guns; and to +judge from the rapt expression in her big brown eyes as the singer +prophesied the lonely and tragic fate of poor unhappy Mélisande, the +idea of that fate proved exquisitely soothing to the youthful listener. + +Anstice's supposition had been correct. Iris Wayne could sing well. Her +voice, a clear mezzo-soprano, had been excellently trained, and in its +purity and flexibility gave promise of something exceptional when it +should have attained its full maturity. She accompanied herself +perfectly, in nowise hampered by the lack of any music; and when she had +brought the song to a close, Anstice was sincere in his request for +another. + +"I've just got some new songs," said Iris, twisting round on the stool +to face her hostess. "A book of Indian love-lyrics. Shall I sing you one +of those?" + +And without waiting for an answer she turned back and began to play an +accompaniment which subtly suggested the atmosphere of the East, +accentuated by the sound of the bells of some wayside Temple pealing +through the dusty, sun-baked land. + + "The Temple bells are ringing----" + +With the first line of the song Anstice was back in the hideous past, +back in the fatal Temple which had proved the antechamber to the halls +of Death ... he heard again the chatter of native voices, smelt the odd, +indescribable perfume of the East, felt the dread, the impotent horror +of that bygone adventure in the ruined Temple of Alostan.... + +The drawing-room in which he sat, bright with chintz, sweet with the +fragrance of hyacinths, faded away; and he saw again the dimly lighted +hut in which he and Hilda Ryder had spent that last dreadful night. He +heard her voice imploring him to kill her before the men should rush in +upon them, saw the anguish in her eyes as she understood that no help +was forthcoming from the world without; and he knew again the great and +unavailing remorse which had filled his soul when he realized that Hilda +Ryder had died too soon.... + +When the song ended he rose abruptly, and Chloe was startled by the +change in his manner. + +"I must really say good-bye, Mrs. Carstairs." He had not touched his +coffee. "Many thanks for your hospitality." He shook hands with her and +turned to Iris with something of an effort. "And many thanks for your +songs, Miss Wayne." He tried to smile as they exchanged a handshake, but +the attempt was a failure. + +"I'll come to the steps with you, my dear," volunteered Cherry politely, +and without further leave-taking Anstice went out into the hall, seized +his hat, and stumbled towards the door, half-blinded by the pain of that +terribly acute inward vision. + +He took leave of Cherry with a hasty courtesy which would have hurt some +children, but was not displeasing to the stately Cherry; and three +minutes later he was driving down the avenue at a furious pace, in a +vain endeavour to outstrip the phantoms which a girl's careless song had +evoked from their place in the background of his thoughts. + + * * * * * + +After his abrupt departure Iris turned impulsively to her hostess. + +"Mrs. Carstairs"--her voice was disturbed--"what was wrong with Dr. +Anstice just now? Did my singing displease him? He got up and went +so--so unexpectedly." + +For a moment Chloe said nothing. Then: + +"Don't you think you are rather too imaginative, Iris? Probably Dr. +Anstice remembered some urgent case, and thought he ought to go at +once." + +"No. I don't think that was it." Iris sank down on to the cushioned +window-seat and gazed thoughtfully ahead. "I think----I wonder if that +last song could have any associations for him? Has he been in India?" + +"I don't know." Chloe smiled faintly. "You must ask him, Iris. I suppose +your father would send for him if he were ill, wouldn't he, now that Dr. +Meade is really gone?" + +"I suppose so." Iris spoke rather dreamily. "At first I thought he was +quite old--at least forty," said the schoolgirl. "And then, when he +talked to Cherry I was not really sure. I guessed he might be worried +about professional things and look older than he was. And now----" + +She broke off, and for a moment Chloe Carstairs made no rejoinder, +though her blue, almond-shaped eyes held a slightly quizzical +expression. + +"And now"--she said at length--"what is your opinion now?" + +"Now"--Iris spoke very slowly, and in her eyes was something of the +womanly tenderness and strength whose possibility Anstice had +divined--"I think he has the very saddest face I have ever seen in my +life." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Anstice was destined to renew his acquaintance with Iris Wayne sooner +than he had anticipated. + +On the Sunday afternoon following the little luncheon party at Cherry +Orchard, he was tramping, pipe in mouth, over the golf-links when he saw +her ahead of him, in company with an elderly gentleman whom he guessed +must be her father. + +She had just holed her ball by a deft stroke, and as he approached +Anstice heard her utter an exultant exclamation. + +"Very good, my dear." Her companion patted her arm. "A little more care +and you will make quite a fair player." + +"Fair player indeed!" Iris tossed her curly head disdainfully. "I'd have +you know I can beat _you_ anyway, Daddy!" + +As she spoke she recognized the approaching figure and her frank smile +flashed out. + +"Dr. Anstice--are you playing too?" + +"No, Miss Wayne." He advanced and shook hands. "I'm taking my Sunday +afternoon tramp. It's the only chance I get of walking in the week." + +"Daddy, this is Dr. Anstice." Iris turned to the elderly man. "My +father," she explained casually to Anstice, and Sir Richard Wayne held +out his hand with a smile. + +"You're not a golfer, Dr. Anstice?" Sir Richard was keen on the game. + +"No, sir. I used to be a footballer in my hospital days, but"--for a +second he hesitated--"I have had no time lately for any kind of +game----" + +"Well, golf's a grand game for an old buffer like me"--Sir Richard was a +hale and well-set-up man who could afford to make such speeches--"but I +daresay you younger men like something a bit more strenuous. My daughter +here only plays with me now and then as a concession--she prefers +tennis, or flying about on that precious motor-cycle of hers." + +"Well, judging from what I have seen of Miss Wayne's riding I should say +she is a very expert motor-cyclist," said Anstice; and Sir Richard +nodded. + +"Oh, she rides all right," he owned, "and she bothered me to such an +extent that I simply had to give in to her. But it wasn't until she had +been 'run in' for exceeding the speed limit in one of my cars and I'd +had to sentence her from the Bench in my magisterial capacity that I did +give in and buy her a Douglas." + +"He fined me twenty shillings and costs!" Iris spoke with mock +indignation. "How's that for meanness to your only daughter?" + +"And paid the fine out of my own pocket--don't forget that!" Sir Richard +chuckled. "Well, Dr. Anstice, if you're not in a hurry, walk round with +us, will you? You aren't busy on a Sunday afternoon, I suppose?" + +"Well, not very." In spite of himself Anstice felt a strange reluctance +to part from his new friends. "I was going for a walk, as you see, and +if I may come with you----" + +So it fell out that for the first Sunday since he had arrived in +Littlefield Anstice's walk was no solitary stroll, companioned only by +his own moody or rebellious thoughts, but a pleasant interlude in a life +which in spite of incessant and often engrossing work, was on the whole +a joyless one. + +This afternoon Iris Wayne looked little more than a schoolgirl in her +short skirt and brightly coloured jersey, a cap pulled well down over +her curls, which nevertheless rioted over her forehead in entrancing +confusion. It was very evident that she and her father were on the best +of terms; and if, as seemed probable, Sir Richard was proud of his +pretty daughter, it was no less certain that she, on her side, thought +her father the most wonderful of men. + +The trio chatted pleasantly as they crossed the sunny golf links, and +Sir Richard told himself that his impressions of this man, gathered from +hasty visions of him about the village, or from the chatter of the +countryside, impressions which had labelled him as a morose, sullen kind +of fellow, had certainly been fallacious. + +Reserved he might be; but although his manner was quiet and his smile a +trifle sad, there was nothing morose about him to-day; and if his +conversation was not particularly brilliant Sir Richard thought none the +worse of him for that. + +So pleased, indeed, was he with his new acquaintance that when they +reached the Club House on the return journey he pressed the young man to +accompany them home for a cup of tea. + +"I'm sure your patients must cease from troubling on a Sunday afternoon +at any rate," he said genially, "and you haven't anyone waiting for you +at home, have you?" + +With a rather melancholy smile Anstice admitted that there was no one +waiting for him at home; and since Iris seconded her father's invitation +with a kind little entreaty on her own account, he accepted their joint +hospitality without further demur. + +Greengates, the home of the Waynes, was a stately old house, more +dignified, though perhaps less charming, than the fascinating Cherry +Orchard; but its very dignity gave charm; and it formed a by no means +incongruous background for this youngest and prettiest of its daughters. +For all her youth and high spirits, Iris seemed to fit into the place as +one born to it; and when she tossed aside her cap and sat down behind +the massive silver tea-tray, her gold-brown curls shone against the oak +panelling of the walls as the wild daffodils gleam golden against the +massive brown trunks of the trees in whose shade they grow. + +Lady Wayne had been dead for many years; and although Anstice gathered, +from casual conversation between father and daughter, that a certain +Aunt Laura made her home with them as a rule, it appeared that she was +at present travelling in Switzerland, leaving Iris mistress of +Greengates in her absence. + +"I confess Iris and I rather enjoy a week or two to ourselves!" Sir +Richard's eyes twinkled. "My sister is a thoroughly good sort, but she +loves to manage people; and Iris and I are both of us constitutionally +averse to being managed!" + +"I manage Daddy without him knowing it," said Iris loftily; and Anstice +could not refrain from an impulse to tease her a little. + +"That is very clever of you, Miss Wayne," he said gravely, "and I'm sure +your management must be most tactful. But--if you'll excuse me +suggesting it--wouldn't it be cleverer still of you if you refrained +from hinting as much to your father?" + +"You mean the really clever women never let the men know they're doing +it?" Her grey eyes laughed into his. "You are quite right, of +course--but then I don't pretend to be clever. I don't think clever +people--clever women, anyway--are ever happy." + +"Don't you?" Somehow Anstice felt extraordinarily interested in the +views of this very youthful woman. "May I be allowed to know what has +driven you to that conclusion?" + +"Oh, it's not exactly my own." Iris' eyes were honest as well as gay. +"It was something Mrs. Carstairs said to me one day. _She_ is clever, +you know--but her life has been made very unhappy." + +Anstice, who had already wondered how much of Chloe Carstairs' history +was known to the Waynes, glanced involuntarily at Sir Richard as Iris +spoke the last words; and in the elder man's eyes he thought he saw a +hint of trouble. + +"I should judge Mrs. Carstairs to be a well-read woman," he said, +endeavouring to change the subject while ostensibly pursuing it. "She +has a good many books about her, though of course nothing like your +collection here." + +He glanced at the walls as he spoke, and Sir Richard took up the new +topic easily. + +"I don't know whether you are a reader, Dr. Anstice," he said, "but if +so, and you're short of reading matter, don't hesitate to borrow some of +our books. We've all sorts, eh, Iris?" + +"Thanks very much. I'm not a great reader--haven't time; but your books +look rather alluring," said Anstice, with a smile. + +"We'll have a look round after tea," returned his host. "In the meantime +pass your cup--this weather makes one thirsty." + +After tea he rose and invited the younger man to scrutinize the shelves. +Somewhat to his surprise Anstice found that the Greengates collection of +books was a most comprehensive one, whole sections being devoted to +science, biography, travel and so on; and he was fortunate enough to +discover two recent biological works, which, owing to their somewhat +prohibitive price, he had hitherto been unable to obtain. + +"Like to borrow those tomes?" Sir Richard had noted the expression in +his guest's face as he handled the volumes. "Well, take them, and +anything else you like. No, I confess I don't care much about books +myself. Most of these were my father's choice--he was a bit of a student +in his later years, and my sister likes to keep up with the times and +lets the booksellers send down books as they used to do. But you're +welcome to any of 'em, I assure you." + +He led his guest round the room, pointing out one or two favourites of +his own; and while they were thus engaged, Iris, who had been feeding +three lively Airedales with scraps of cake, came up to Anstice with +outstretched hand. + +"Will you excuse me, Dr. Anstice? I must go and get ready for church--we +have service early here, you know." + +Immediately Anstice attempted to take his own departure, fearing he had +outstayed his welcome; but Sir Richard positively refused to let him go. + +"No, no, don't hurry away. Stay and keep me company for a little +while--my man can easily run you over in the car presently." + +So it came about that after watching Iris' departure the two men turned +back into the house, where Sir Richard led his visitor to his own cosy +smoking-room and handed him a cigar. + +"Light up," he said genially, "and try that chair. Dr. Anstice, now that +my little girl has left us, I want to say something to you--to ask you a +question, in fact." + +Rather taken aback, Anstice expressed his willingness to answer any +questions his host thought fit to ask; and Sir Richard plunged at once +into the heart of the matter. + +"I understand from Iris that you have been attending the lady living at +Cherry Orchard. Oh!"--as Anstice's eyebrows rose--"I'm not asking you to +violate professional secrecy. I only wished to be sure that you knew the +true position of Mrs. Carstairs in this neighbourhood." + +A moment's reflection showed Anstice that this man would hardly be +likely to permit his young daughter to visit Cherry Orchard unless his +opinion of Mrs. Carstairs were favourable; and his voice was +non-committal as he answered. + +"I have heard Mrs. Carstairs' story from her own lips, Sir Richard. She +was good enough to relate it to me at an early stage of our +acquaintance," he said; and this time it was the other man's eyebrows +which betokened surprise. + +"Indeed! I didn't expect that, or I would not have spoken. I thought you +had probably heard a garbled account of the whole horrible affair from +some of the Pharisees down here; and since I and my daughter are +honoured by Mrs. Carstairs' friendship I wanted to be sure you didn't +allow the weight of local opinion to prejudice you in any way." + +"It's awfully good of you." For once Anstice spoke spontaneously, as he +might have spoken before that fatal day which had changed him into +another and a less impulsive person. "I may take it, then, that you and +Miss Wayne believe in Mrs. Carstairs?" + +"I believe in her as I'd believe in my own girl," returned Sir Richard +emphatically. "Mind you, Chloe Carstairs isn't perfect--we none of us +are. She has her faults--now. She's cynical and cold, a bit of a +_poseuse_--that marble manner of hers is artificial, I verily +believe--but I'm prepared to swear she had nothing to do with those vile +letters." + +"You have known her long?" + +"Since she was a child. Her father was one of my best friends, and I +knew Chloe when she was a tiny baby girl all tied up with blue ribbons. +Carstairs met her first at my people's place in Surrey, and I was really +pleased when he married the girl and brought her here." + +"They lived here after their marriage?" + +"Yes, for a short time only. Then they were off to India, and there they +remained till her child was born, and she was faced with the old problem +of the woman who marries a soldier." + +"You mean--wife _versus_ mother?" + +"Yes. Upon my soul, Anstice, I can't understand how a woman ever decides +between the two claims. To hand over her baby to relations, or even +strangers, must be like tearing the heart out of her bosom, and yet a +woman wants her husband too--wants him especially when she is young--as +Chloe was." + +"Mrs. Carstairs decided for her child?" + +"Yes. They kept her in India as long as they dared--longer than some +people thought prudent--and then Chloe brought her home to the old +place. Iris was at school then, but Chloe used to come in to see my +sister and me frequently, and we congratulated ourselves that we'd got +such a pleasant neighbour. You know Cherry Orchard is really the nearest +house as the crow flies." + +"I suppose it is; though I hadn't realized it. And then--the crash +came?" + +"Yes. When first those horrible letters began to fly about the parish +they were put down as the work of some spiteful servant, dismissed for +dishonesty, perhaps. But little by little Mrs. Carstairs' name began to +be whispered in connection with them--no one knew how the rumour +started, though I have always held the belief that the Vicar's wife +herself was the first to suggest it." + +"But Mrs. Carstairs and the woman were friends?" + +"They had been--and in the first burst of friendship the foolish woman +had poured out all her silly, sordid secrets to Chloe Carstairs, and +then, possibly, repented having done so. They fell out, you see, and I +suppose Mrs. Ogden, being a woman of a small and petty character +herself, was only too ready to suspect her former friend. She swore, you +know, that no one but Chloe could have known some of the details which +were mentioned in the letters. I can't tell you how vile the whole thing +was--and it was quite evidently the intention of the anonymous writer to +drive Mrs. Ogden out of the parish by those libellous documents." + +"But the matter was thoroughly sifted? And there could be no evidence +against Mrs. Carstairs?" + +"Well, when things had gone on for some time in a desultory kind of +fashion--a letter here, another there, and then an interval of a few +weeks--there came a perfect avalanche of the things, and the Vicar, +although he had really wished to hush the matter up, was advised to take +steps to find out the culprit." + +"Even then I don't see how Mrs. Carstairs could be suspected----" + +"Well, in a matter of this kind, when once a woman's name has been +mentioned, it is very hard for her to clear herself. At first, guided, I +confess, by me, she refused to take any notice of the affair. In the +end, of course, she had to come forward to clear herself of a specific +charge." + +"But what weight had the evidence against her?" + +"Well, certain curious things happened. It was found that the letters +were all written on a particular kind of paper affected by Mrs. +Carstairs for scribbling unimportant notes--household orders and so +on--not by any means an uncommon paper, but still she was the only +person in the village who bought it regularly. Then the handwriting, +though it was scratchy and common-looking, did bear, in some words, a +faint, very faint resemblance to hers; and once, when Chloe was away on +a visit to Brighton, a letter came to the owner of Carr Hall, in the +valley yonder, which had been posted at Hove. Then, as she may have told +you, a trap was laid for her by some of the damned authorities"--he +spoke heatedly--"she was supplied with marked paper; and sure enough the +next letter which arrived was written on one of those identical sheets." + +"But the servants--her servants would have had access to her paper?" + +"Quite so; and that point was made much of by the defence. But when all +the household was examined, it didn't seem a feasible theory that any of +them was to blame." + +"How many servants were there in the house?" Unconsciously Anstice's +manner was that of a doctor interrogating a patient, and Sir Richard +noted the fact with a quickly suppressed flicker of amusement. + +"Four only. During Major Carstairs' absence Mrs. Carstairs wished to +live quietly; and her staff consisted of a cook--a young Frenchman whose +life Major Carstairs had once saved in a drunken brawl in Soho----" + +"A Frenchman, eh?" Anstice habitually distrusted foreigners. "Mightn't +he have been the guilty person?" + +"He only knew enough English to discuss the _menu_ with his mistress," +answered Sir Richard. "Chloe used to make us laugh by relating his +mistakes; and even if he had wished to write the letters he could not +possibly have done it. Besides, he returned to France for his military +training in the very middle of all this, so he really can't be +suspected." + +"Well." In fairness Anstice could not condemn the Frenchman. "Who else +was in the house?" + +"A middle-aged housemaid who had lived with the Carstairs' all her life, +and whose character was quite above suspicion. As a matter of course her +writing was compared with that of the letters and was proved to have +none of the characteristics of the anonymous handwriting. For another +thing her sight was bad, and she couldn't write straight to save her +life." + +"I see. And what of the other two?" + +"One was a pretty young girl who acted as maid to Mrs. Carstairs +herself; and I admit at first it seemed that she was the most likely +person to have been mixed up in the affair; for she was a flighty minx +who wasn't too particular about her behaviour, and was generally engaged +to two or three young men at once." + +"Well?" From Sir Richard's manner Anstice gathered that there was no +case against the pretty young minx; and the next words confirmed his +supposition. + +"Sad to say the poor girl caught a chill and died of pneumonia after +only five days' illness, during which time the letter-writer was +particularly active; and as the communications continued after her +death, she must be counted out." + +"Well," said Anstice, "that accounts for three of them. What about the +fourth?" + +"The fourth was an old servant of the other side of the family--Chloe's +family--the woman they call Tochatti, who lives there still. She's half +Italian, though she's lived the greater part of her life in England. +Chloe's mother picked her up on her honeymoon, and she was Chloe's +nurse. She has been a most devoted servant all the time, and I would +almost as soon suspect Chloe herself as suspect the poor woman of +working any harm to her adored young mistress." + +Remembering the woman's solicitude on the occasion of his first visit to +Cherry Orchard, Anstice was compelled to admit it was unlikely she was +the culprit; and his impression was deepened by Sir Richard's next +speech. + +"As a matter of fact, it came out that the poor old thing couldn't even +write her name. The other woman, Janet, was what she called a 'poor +scollard', but Tochatti went one better, for she could neither write nor +read. It appeared they had often teased her about it, and she had +frequently flown into a rage when the other servants poked fun at her; +but she certainly scored in the end!" + +"Well, that disposes of the household," said Anstice rather regretfully. +"But what about outdoor workers--gardeners and so forth?" + +"There was only one gardener--and a boy--and neither could possibly have +had access to Chloe's writing-table; added to which they both left +Cherry Orchard during the critical time and took situations in different +parts of the county. So they too had to be counted out." + +"All this came out in court?" + +"Yes. You see, had the matter rested between the party libelled and the +libeller--if there is such a term--an action in the Civil Courts to +recover damages would have met the case. But owing to the fact that +practically everyone in the neighbourhood was victimized, and warnings, +almost amounting to threats, issued to the Ogden woman's friends to have +nothing more to do with her, the public were, so to speak, directly +affected; and it was in the interests of the public that, finally, +criminal proceedings were instituted." + +"And in the end an intelligent jury brought in a verdict of guilty?" + +"Yes. The case came on at Ripstone, five miles away, and of course +excited no end of interest locally. To give them their due, the jury +were very reluctant to bring in that verdict--but I assure you"--he +spoke weightily--"when I heard the other side marshalling their facts, +each one making the case look still blacker and more damning, I began to +be afraid. Yes, I confess it, I began to feel very much afraid." + +"And they brought her in guilty?" + +"Yes, and the Judge sentenced her. I don't like to accuse one of His +Majesty's judges of allowing his judgment to be prejudiced by personal +feeling," said Sir Richard slowly; "but it has always seemed to me that +Chloe's manner--her peculiarly detached, indifferent manner, as though +the case did not interest her vitally--was in some subtle fashion an +affront to the man. His remarks to her seemed to me unnecessarily +severe, and he certainly did not err on the side of leniency." + +"I should think not! Twelve months--why, it's an Eternity!" + +"What must it have seemed to that poor girl!" Sir Richard spoke +pitifully. "I used to fancy she would die in prison--I could not imagine +how she could support the life in there, in those degrading +surroundings. You know, not only had she been lapped in luxury, as they +say, all her life, but, more important still, she had been used to +boundless love and affection from all around her." + +"You find her much altered?" + +"Yes. I can't say exactly in what the alteration consists," returned Sir +Richard thoughtfully. "It's not merely a surface thing--the change goes +deeper than that. I called her _posée_ just now. Well, I don't know if +that's the right word. Sometimes I think that frozen manner of hers +isn't a pose after all, it's natural to her nowadays. She seems to be +literally turned to stone by all she's gone through. Where she used to +be all sympathy, all ardour, all life, now she's cold, frigid, +passionless. The girl's barely twenty-five, but upon my soul she might +be a woman of fifty for all the youth there is about her--except in her +looks, and there I believe she's handsomer than ever!" + +Anstice's cigar was smoked out; but there was one question he must ask +before he took his leave. + +"And her husband--Major Carstairs? He--I gather he was inclined to agree +with the verdict?" + +Sir Richard hesitated, and when he spoke there was a note of pain in his +voice. + +"I am sorry to say Carstairs could not bring himself to believe in his +wife's innocence. He was in India at the time, you know, and only got +home--on special leave--when the case was coming on. Heaven knows on +what grounds he bases his doubts of her. One would have thought it +impossible for a man to live with a woman like Chloe and not know her +incapable of the deed. But human nature is a strange thing----" He broke +off. + +"I understand they do not contemplate keeping house together for the +future?" Anstice hoped he was not appearing unduly curious, but Sir +Richard's manner invited interest. + +"No--though mind you, Carstairs has not left his wife because she was +unfortunate enough to be convicted and sent to prison. He's not that +sort. If he could have believed her innocent he would have stuck to her +through thick and thin. As it is he gives her the house, a large +allowance, which permits motor-cars and things of that kind, and since +he is known to be in India a good many people don't know they are really +living apart in a double sense." + +"Yet he can't believe in her?" + +"No--and that's why he will not live with her. In his own rather +peculiar way he has a remarkably high code of honour, and since he +genuinely believes her to be guilty it would doubtless be quite +impossible for him to live with her again." + +"I am rather surprised--seeing she must know his opinion of her--that +she condescends to live in his house and take his money," said Anstice, +voicing a question which had caused him a very real and acute wonder. + +"I'm glad you have raised that point," said Sir Richard quickly. "She +does it for the sake of the child, so that Cherry may have all the +advantages of wealth. Chloe herself has nothing and Carstairs is a rich +man; so it is an eminently proper arrangement, and in my opinion Chloe +behaved like a sensible woman in agreeing to it." + +He threw away his cigar, which had gone out as he talked. + +"No--what I wonder at is that Chloe should deliberately choose to come +back here where the whole story is known. It's not bravado, of that I'm +certain, but it beats me altogether how she can do it, for as you know +women can be uncommonly cruel sometimes, and these creatures here aren't +by any means charitably disposed towards her." + +"You allow Miss Wayne to visit her?" + +"Yes--and I welcome her to my house on the rare occasions she honours me +by entering it," said Sir Richard with evident sincerity; and Anstice +felt oddly gratified by the other man's speech. + +A clock striking seven brought him to his feet in genuine dismay. + +"Seven o'clock! I'd no idea it was so late! Pray excuse me inflicting +myself on you all this time." + +"Must you go?" Sir Richard rose too, and stood regarding the tall, +loosely built figure with something like admiration. "Well, you're a +busy man, I know; and if you really must go I'll not detain you. But +you'll come in again, won't you? Come to dinner--Iris shall send you a +note--and drop in for a smoke any evening you're at liberty." + +The invitation so heartily given was accepted with a pleasure to which +Anstice had long been a stranger; and then he said good-bye to his kind +host and left Greengates feeling that he had found two unexpectedly +congenial friends in Iris Wayne and her father. + +He had been deeply, genuinely interested in Sir Richard's story, that +unhappy story in which Chloe Carstairs figured so tragically; yet as he +made his way homewards between the blossoming hedgerows his mind dwelt +upon another woman, a younger, happier woman than the pale mistress of +Cherry Orchard. And the face which floated before his eyes in the +starlit spring dusk was the laughing, grey-eyed face of Iris Wayne. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +As the weeks passed Anstice's acquaintance with the Waynes ripened into +something which he found strangely pleasant. + +Although he had long ago decided that for him the simple human things of +life, friendship, social intercourse with the world of men and women, +were, since that bygone Indian morning, forbidden, even his acquired +misanthropy was not proof against the kindly advances made to him by Sir +Richard and his daughter. + +Busy as he was, he still found time to accept some of their invitations +to Greengates, and he and Sir Richard enjoyed a quiet chat over their +cigars now and again when by chance he had an evening to himself. + +On their side the Waynes found him, each in his and her own degree, an +agreeable companion. Sir Richard approved of his quiet and reserved +manner, and was not inclined to quarrel with his occasional fits of +moodiness--for there were times when the ghosts which haunted him +refused to be exorcised, and Anstice felt himself unfit, by reason of +the handicap which Fate had imposed upon him, to mingle with the happy, +the careless, the innocent ones of the earth. + +To Sir Richard, kind-hearted, uncritical, undiscerning, such fits of +silence, even of gloom, were natural enough in a man whose life was +spent largely in the service of the sick and suffering among humanity. +He was probably worried over some difficult case, Sir Richard concluded, +when he found the younger man's conversation halting, his manner absent, +or, on rare occasions, morose; and it must be noted that as a rule +Anstice had too much respect for his friends to inflict these moods upon +them. As for Iris, quicker of discernment than her father, of a more +analytical turn of mind, she guessed that the changing moods which +characterized her new acquaintance were not induced by any external or +professional worries, but were the marks of a trouble far more serious, +far more vital to the man himself. Of the nature of this trouble Iris +had naturally no very clear idea, though now and again she considered +the probability of him having been what she called, rather +school-girlishly, crossed in love. But though her phraseology might be +childish there was something purely womanly in the compassion with which +she thought of Anstice; and on one occasion when a fit of melancholy had +overcome him unexpectedly in her presence, he was startled, not to say +dismayed, to notice something of this half-tender, half-impersonal pity +in the soft, brooding glance of her eyes as they rested on him for a +moment. + +It was not with the Waynes alone that he grew more intimate as the days +went by. A short time after his introduction to Greengates Anstice +received a summons to Cherry Orchard, and on repairing thither found +that his patient on this occasion was Cherry Carstairs. With all her +demure dignity Cherry was at times possessed of a very spirit of +perversity; and being, although of such tender years, absolutely devoid +of fear, she had tried conclusions in secret with a shaggy pony in a +field close by her home, with the result that, owing to the pony's +stubborn refusal to allow her to climb upon his back, Cherry received a +kick, more in sorrow than in anger, which snapped the bone in her tiny +forearm, and sent her stumbling home, very pale and shaky, her dignity +sadly in abeyance, to seek her mother. + +Anstice, on arrival, soon had the small arm set and comfortably +bandaged; and once safely in bed, although more upset than she wished +anyone to imagine, Cherry regained her usual half-affectionate +half-patronizing manner, and insisted upon Anstice sitting down beside +her "for at least five minutes, my dear!" + +With a smile, Anstice sat down as requested; and Cherry instantly began +to question him on the subject of Greengates. + +"Isn't it a fassynating house, my dear?" Cherry never employed a short +word when she thought a long one fairly appropriate. "Have you seen +Iris' bedroom?--all done in white and purple and green--and irises +everywhere--on the walls and the curtains--just like a gorjus purple +iris what grows in the garden?" + +"No, I've not seen Miss Wayne's bedroom," owned Anstice rather hastily. +"But it couldn't be prettier than this--why, those bunches of cherries +on the wall are so life-like that I wonder the birds don't come in to +make a meal of them!" + +"Do you like them?" Cherry was openly gratified by his approval. "But I +wish you could see Iris' room. She always takes me there to wash my +hands and face, and the basin is all over irises too." + +"Fassynating" as these details of Miss Wayne's domestic arrangements +might be, Anstice judged it safer to switch his small patient on to +another topic; and in an animated discussion as to the proper age at +which a young lady might begin to ride a motor-bicycle--Cherry inclining +to seven, Anstice to seventeen years--the promised five minutes flew +swiftly away. + +"You'll come again, my dear?" Cherry's anxiety to ensure his attendance +was flattering, and he laughed and assured her he would visit her every +day if she desired it. + +As a matter of fact he did visit her with some regularity; for she +managed, with a perversity known only to imps of a like nature, to catch +a severe chill which puzzled her attendants, none of them knowing of a +certain feverishly delightful ten minutes spent in hanging out of the +window holding an interesting conversation with the gardener's boy below +on the subject of broken bones. In any case, Anstice found it necessary +to call at Cherry Orchard on several consecutive days; and during the +child's illness and subsequent convalescence he was perforce obliged to +come into contact with Mrs. Carstairs herself. + +As a physiological study Chloe interested him strongly. Although she +appeared genuinely fond of her little daughter and waited on her night +and day with a solicitude which never varied, there was nothing in her +manner to denote passionate affection, nor did the child appear to +desire it. Even to Cherry her voice, rich and deep as it was, never +softened; and she rarely used an endearing term. Yet Cherry appeared to +be quite satisfied; and Anstice came to the conclusion that the child's +fine instinct was able to pierce behind this apparent coldness to the +warm human love which doubtless lay beneath. + +One fact about Mrs. Carstairs he was not slow in discovering. With the +exception of Iris Wayne and her father, Chloe appeared to be absolutely +devoid of friends, even of casual acquaintances. The Littlefield people, +who had been first surprised, then outraged, by her reappearance among +them, had long since decided that for them Cherry Orchard was _tabu_; +and although the Vicar, Mr. Carey, successor to the man whose wife had +raised the storm in which Chloe Carstairs' barque had come to shipwreck, +had called upon her, and endeavoured, in his gentle, courtly fashion, to +make her welcome, his parishioners had no intention of following his +example. + +That Mrs. Carstairs felt her isolation in a social sense Anstice did not +believe; but that she must feel very lonely at times, find the days very +long and empty, he felt pretty well assured. She was not an accomplished +woman in the usual sense of the word. He never found her playing the +piano, or painting water-colour pictures as did so many of the women ha +visited. She did not appear to care for needlework, and in spite of the +books scattered about the house, he rarely saw her reading; yet all the +while he had a feeling that had she desired to shine in any or all of +the arts peculiar to women she would have no difficulty in doing so. + +That she ordered her household excellently he knew from the glimpses he +had obtained of her domestic life; but there again she was assisted by a +staff of superior servants who all, from her personal attendant, the +devoted Tochatti, down to the boy who cleaned the knives, worshipped +their mistress with a wholehearted affection which held about it a touch +of something almost resembling fanaticism. + +One day Anstice did find her with a book in her hand; and on venturing +to inquire into its contents was informed it was a well-known _Treatise +on Chess_. + +"Do you play?" he asked, rather astonished, for in common with many men +he imagined chess to be almost purely a masculine pastime. + +"Yes--at least I used to play once," she admitted slowly. "I can't very +well indulge in a game nowadays. Even the grownup Cherry declines to +play, though I hope in time I may incite her to learn!" + +"I used to play--indifferently--once," Anstice said meditatively; and +Chloe looked at him with a faint smile. + +"Did you? Some day when you are not too busy will you drop in to tea and +play a game with me?" + +"I'd like to immensely." His tone was sincere, and Chloe's manner warmed +ever so little. + +"Can you stay now?" The hour was just on five; and Cherry, who had that +day been promoted to tea downstairs, seconded the invitation as usual +from her nest on the big Chesterfield. + +"Do stay, my dear, and I'll help you to move all the funny little men +and the castles!" + +Anstice could not refuse this double invitation; and after a hasty cup +of tea he and his hostess sat down to the board and set out the ancient +ivory chessmen which were so well suited to the pretty, old-fashioned +room in which the players sat. + +To Anstice's quite unjustifiable surprise Chloe Carstairs played an +admirable game. Her moves were clearly reasoned out, and she displayed a +quickness of thought, a brilliance of man[oe]uvre, which soon convinced +Anstice he was outplayed. + +At the end of fifteen minutes Chloe had vanquished him completely; and +while most of his men were reposing in the carved box at her elbow, the +ranks of her army were scarcely thinned. + +"I give in, Mrs. Carstairs!" He laughed and rose. "You won't think me +unsporting if I run away now? I'm beat hollow, and I know it, but if you +will condescend to play with me another day----" + +"I shall look forward to another game," she said serenely; and Anstice +departed, feeling he had been permitted to obtain another sidelight on +her somewhat complex character. + +Two days later he made another and rather disconcerting discovery, which +set him wondering afresh as to the real nature of the woman who, like +himself, had been the victim of a strangely vindictive fate. + +The day was Sunday, and Cherry had been permitted the indulgence of +breakfast in bed; so that Anstice interviewed his young patient in her +own pink-and-white nest, where, attended by the faithful Tochatti, she +gave herself innumerable airs and graces, but finally allowed him to +examine her small arm, which was now practically healed. + +"Mrs. Carstairs not up yet?" It was ten o'clock--but there was no sign +of Cherry's mother. + +"Yes, sir." Tochatti spoke slowly, her foreign accent more strongly +marked than usual. "My mistress has a slight headache and is in her own +room. She would like to see you before you go." + +Accordingly, after a prolonged parting from Cherry, who shamelessly +importuned him to neglect his other and less important patients, Anstice +accompanied Tochatti to Mrs. Carstairs' sitting-room where its owner +presumably awaited him. + +The room itself was in its way as uncommon as its occupant, being +furnished entirely in black and white. The walls were white, the carpet +black. The chairs and couches were upholstered in black-and-white +chintz, with a profusion of cushions of both hues, and the pictures on +the white walls were etchings in black oak frames. On the mantelpiece +was a collection of carved ivory toys of all kinds, with here and there +an ebony elephant from Ceylon or Assam. The paint on doors and windows +was black, yet in spite of the sombreness of the general scheme there +was nothing depressing, nothing sinister in the finished effect. + +Possibly because Chloe Carstairs was an artist--or a wise woman who knew +the value of relief--one note of colour was struck in the presence of a +huge china bowl filled with tulips of every conceivable shade of flame +and orange and yellow and red; but with that exception black and white +predominated, and when Chloe Carstairs rose from her low chair near the +window and advanced towards him, she, too, carried out the subtle +suggestion of the whole room. + +Dressed in white, her silky black hair and blue eyes the only bits of +colour about her, she looked paler than usual, and Anstice jumped to the +conclusion she had sent for him to prescribe for her. + +"Good morning, Dr. Anstice." Anstice, who hated shaking hands with most +people, always liked her firm, cool handshake. "How is Cherry? You find +her better?" + +"Yes, she is really quite herself again, and her arm has healed most +satisfactorily." He stood in front of her as he spoke, and studied her +face carefully. "But you don't look very fit, Mrs. Carstairs. Can I do +anything for you now that your little daughter has finished with me?" + +She looked at him with a smile which was more melancholy than usual. + +"I think not," she said slowly. "You see, I am not ill, only a little +tired--tired with remembering days that are gone." + +"Isn't that rather a fatal thing to do?" His own bitter memories gave +him the clue to her state of mind. "No good ever comes of remembering +sad things. I think the perfect memory would be one which would only +retain the happiness of life. You know the old motto found on many +sundials: 'I only record sunny hours.'" + +"I don't agree with you," she said quietly. "It's the shadows which give +value to the high lights, isn't it? And sometimes to remember dreadful +things is a happiness in itself, knowing they are gone for ever. I can +quite well bear to remember that horrible prison"--as always when +speaking of it, her lips whitened--"because no power on earth can ever +put me back there again." + +"I don't think it can do you any good to dwell on such memories," he +persisted. "If you are wise you will forget them. No wonder your head +aches if you dwell on such unpleasant things." + +She looked at him more fully, and in her eyes he read something which +baffled him. + +"You are quite right--and delightfully sane and sensible," she said. +"But as a matter of fact, I wasn't really thinking of the prison to-day. +You see, this is the anniversary of my wedding day, and my thoughts were +not altogether sad ones." + +He looked at her, nonplussed for the moment, and suddenly Chloe's face +softened. + +"Dr. Anstice, forgive me. The fact is, I had a bad night, and am all on +edge this morning." + +"Why do you sit in here?" asked Anstice abruptly. "It is a lovely +morning--the sun is warm and there's no wind. Why not go out into your +charming garden? Lie in a low chair and sleep--or read some amusing +book. Is this a particularly engrossing one?" + +He picked up the volume she had laid down at his entrance, and she +watched him with a faint hint of mockery in her blue eyes. His face +changed as he read the title. + +"De Quincey's _Confessions_! Mrs. Carstairs, you're not interested in +this sort of thing?" + +"Why not?" Her manner was ever so slightly antagonistic. "The subject is +a fascinating one, isn't it? I confess I've often felt inclined to try +opium--morphia or something of the sort, myself." + +"Morphia?" His voice startled her by its harshness. "Don't make a joke +of it, Mrs. Carstairs. If I thought you really meant that----" + +"But I do--or did." She spoke coolly. "I even went so far as to purchase +the means of indulging my fancy." + +"You did? But--forgive me--why?" + +"Don't we all sigh for oblivion now and then?" She put the question +calmly, looking him squarely in the face the while. "I have always +understood that morphia is one of the roads into Paradise--a Fool's +Paradise, no doubt, but we poor wretches can't always choose our +heavens." + +"Nor our hells!" He still spoke vehemently. "Yes, there are times in all +our lives when oblivion, forgetfulness, seems very desirable, very +alluring. But let me entreat you, Mrs. Carstairs, not to seek to enter +Paradise by that devil's key!" + +Her almond-shaped eyes grew still more narrow as she looked at him. + +"I wonder why you speak so impressively," she said slowly. "As a doctor +doubtless you are _au fait_ in the subject, yet your vehemence seems to +imply----" She paused. + +"As a doctor I've seen enough of the havoc the opium fiend plays in the +lives of men--and women," he said steadily, "to realize the danger that +lies in the insidious habit. I have seen women--women like you"--he had +no idea of sparing her--"young, of good position and all the rest of it, +who have slid into the deadly thing on the flimsiest of pretexts--and +then, too late, have realized they are bound--for life--with fetters +which cannot be broken." + +"Yet the deadly thing is fascinating, isn't it? Else why do so many fall +under its sway?" + +"Fascinating?" With an inward shudder Anstice recalled those months +after Hilda Ryder's death--those horrible, chaotic months when, in a +vain endeavour to stifle thought, to deaden remorse, he had invoked the +aid of the poppy, and by so doing had almost precipitated a moral +catastrophe which should have been more overwhelming than the first. +"For God's sake, Mrs. Carstairs, don't become obsessed by that idea. The +morphia habit is one degrading slavery of mind and body, and only the +miserable victims know how delusive are its promises, how unsatisfactory +its rewards. What can you expect from a cult whose highest reward--the +only thing, indeed, it has to offer you, is--oblivion?" + +Chloe Carstairs did not reply. Instead, she turned away and moved across +the room to a small black escritoire which stood against the white wall. +Bending down she opened it, and after pressing a spring, released what +appeared to be a secret drawer. From this she lifted out a little packet +wrapped in white paper and sealed with red wax, and holding it in her +hand she came slowly back to where Anstice stood, made vaguely +uncomfortable by her curious, almost secretive manner. + +"Dr. Anstice"--she held out the packet--"will you take charge of this +for me? It is the key--what you called the devil's key just now--to the +Paradise I have never had the courage to enter." + +Anstice took the little parcel from her with something of sternness in +his face. + +"Yes, Mrs. Carstairs. But what, exactly, is this thing?" + +"An hypodermic syringe and a supply of morphia," she informed him +tranquilly. Then, as he pursed his lips into an involuntary whistle, she +went on, with more than a hint of mockery in her manner: "Oh, I came by +it quite honestly, I assure you! I didn't steal it from a doctor's +surgery--I bought it at a chemist's shop in London." + +"You did?" + +"Yes, and I made the young man show me how to use it." She smiled rather +ironically. "Naturally I was ignorant in the matter, and I didn't want +to make a blunder in its use." + +"Really? Well, Mrs. Carstairs, this is your property, but I wish I might +persuade you to leave it in my keeping for the present." + +"You think it would be safer there?" She looked at him as though +considering the matter. "Well, I wonder?" + +"You wonder--what?" He spoke dryly. + +"Whether it _is_ safer with you. Of course, as a doctor you can get +plenty of your own----" + +"I shan't be tempted to steal yours for my private use," said Anstice a +trifle grimly; and the Fates who rule the lives of men probably smiled +to themselves over the fatuity of mankind. + +"Well, I gave it to you myself, so you may as well keep it," said Chloe +indifferently, as though already tired of the subject; and without more +ado Anstice slipped the little white packet into his pocket, and took +leave of its former owner before she had opportunity to change her mind +on the subject. + +He could not dismiss the figure of Chloe Carstairs from his thoughts as +he went about his day's work. Intuitively he knew that she was a +bitterly unhappy woman, that her life, like his own, had been rent in +two by a cataclysm of appalling magnitude, such as visits very few human +beings, and he told himself that this woman, too, had been down in the +depths even as he had been. And no man, no woman, who has once known the +blackness of the abyss, that "outer darkness" in which the soul sits +apart in a horror of loneliness, can ever view the world again with +quite the clear-eyed vision of the normal human being to whom, +fortunately for the sanity of the race, such appalling experiences are +mercifully unknown. + +On a morning a week later Anstice received a note from Mrs. Carstairs. + + "DEAR DR. ANSTICE," + + "My brother has unexpectedly written to offer himself for a couple + of nights, and I shall be pleased if you will come to dinner this + evening at half-past seven to meet him. I have invited Miss Wayne, + so please complete our quartette if you can." + + "Sincerely," + + "CHLOE CARSTAIRS." + +For some moments Anstice sat inwardly debating the question, the note in +his hand. + +He had no engagement for the evening. The people of Littlefield, +puzzled, perhaps a little piqued, by the aloofness of his manner, rarely +invited him to their houses in anything but his professional capacity, +though they called upon his services in and out of season; and Sir +Richard Wayne and Mr. Carey, the gentle, courtly Vicar of the parish, +were the only two men with whom he ever enjoyed an hour's quiet chat +over a soothing pipe or cigar. + +So that there was no reason why he should hesitate to accept Chloe +Carstairs' invitation for that particular evening, yet hesitate he did, +unaccountably; and when, after fifteen minutes indecision, he suddenly +scribbled and dispatched an acceptance, the messenger had barely gone +from his presence before he felt an unreasoning impulse to recall the +letter. + +What lay at the bottom of his strange reluctance to enjoy Chloe's +hospitality he had not the faintest notion. He had no special aversion +to meeting her brother, nor was he in any way reluctant to improve his +acquaintance with Iris Wayne.... Did his heart, indeed, beat just a +shade faster at the thought of meeting her? Yet something seemed to +whisper that this invitation was disastrous, that it would set in train +events which might be overwhelming in their sequence. + +He tried, vainly, to banish the faint premonition of evil which had +fallen upon him when he realized it was too late to recall his +acceptance. Throughout the day it persisted, and when at length he went +to his room to dress for the evening, he felt a strong inclination to +excuse himself over the telephone on the plea of an urgent call to whose +importance he could not turn a deaf ear. + +Such an excuse would, he knew, pass muster well enough. A doctor can +rarely be depended upon, socially, and when he was dressed he went +downstairs with the intention of ringing up Cherry Orchard and +regretting his inability to make a fourth at Mrs. Carstairs' +dinner-table that night. + +Yet at the last moment Fate, or that other Higher Power of which we know +too little to speak with any familiarity, intervened to restrain his +impulse, and with a muttered imprecation at his own unusual vacillation +he turned away from the telephone and went out to his waiting car +impatiently. + +Arriving at Cherry Orchard, the elderly manservant relieved him of his +coat with a deferential smile. + +"I think I'm a little late, Hagyard." Anstice glanced at the grandfather +clock in the corner. "Or perhaps your clock's a bit forward." + +"I daresay it is, sir." Hagyard accepted the suggestion with +well-trained alacrity. "Miss Wayne has only been here a moment or two." + +He threw open the door as he spoke and Anstice entered the drawing-room +with a sudden unwelcome return of his premonition strong upon him. + +Yet the room, with its shaded lamps, small wood-fire, and latticed +windows open to the sweet spring twilight, looked peaceful enough. As +usual there were masses of flowers about, tulips, narcissi, anemones; +and the atmosphere was fragrant as Anstice went forward to greet his +hostess, who stood by one of the casements with her guests beside her. + +She came towards him with her usual slow step, which never, for all its +deliberation, suggested the languor of ill-health; and as he began to +apologize for his late arrival she smiled away his apologies. + +"You're not really late, Dr. Anstice, and in any case we should have +given you a few minutes' grace." + +She stood aside for him to greet Iris, and as he shook hands with the +girl Anstice's heart gave a sudden throb of pleasure, which, for the +moment, almost succeeded in banishing that uncanny premonition of evil +which had come with him to the very gates of Cherry Orchard. + +She was very simply dressed in a frock of filmy grey-green chiffon whose +colour reminded him of the spiky leaves of a carnation; but he had never +seen her look prettier than on that mild spring night; and his eyes +unconsciously softened as they dwelt upon her face for one fleeting +moment. + +Then as Chloe's soft, deep voice, introducing her brother, stole on his +ear, he turned to greet the other man; and instantly he realized, too +late, the meaning of that presentiment of ill which had haunted him all +day; understood why the inner, spiritual part of him had bidden him +refuse Chloe Carstairs' invitation to Cherry Orchard that night. + +For the man who turned leisurely from the window to greet the new-comer +was the man whom he had last seen in a green-walled bedroom in an Indian +hotel, the man whom, by a tragic error, he had robbed of the woman he +loved, from whom he had parted with a mutual hope that their paths in +life might never cross again. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Carstairs' brother was the man whom Hilda Ryder had loved, Bruce +Cheniston himself. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +As a rule the psychological moments of life come and go so quietly that +their passing attracts little notice. Quite minor happenings give rise +to demonstrations of excitement, of joy, of loudly voiced approbation or +disappointment. But the moments which really matter in a life, which +mark an epoch or destroy a dream, pass as a rule so quietly that only +those whose dreams are shattered, or whose lives have been touched with +the glory of the immortal, know that for a brief instant Time has become +interchangeable with Eternity; that in the space of sixty fleeting +seconds whole cycles of life have been lived through, and a vast and +yawning gulf, in thought, in feeling, in spiritual growth or mental +outlook, has opened to divide this moment from the one which directly +preceded it. + +Such a moment was this one in which the two men who were bound together +by so tragic a link came face to face in Chloe Carstairs' drawing-room. + +Each had been quite sincere in his dread of any future meeting; but +whereas Bruce Cheniston had been the victim of as cruel a circumstance +as ever deprived lover of his beloved, Anstice was the more to be +pitied, inasmuch as to his own burden of regret must be added the +knowledge that through his premature action he had given another man the +right to execrate his name so long as they both should live. + +For a second Anstice wondered, growing cold whether Cheniston would +refuse to shake hands with him. In his heart he knew quite well, had +always known, that he had not been to blame in that bygone episode; that +although he had done a thing which must haunt him for the rest of his +life by reason of its tragic uselessness, as a man in whom a woman had +trusted he had had no alternative but to act as he had acted. + +Yet of all men on earth Cheniston might well question the necessity of +his action; and Anstice told himself with a fast-beating heart that he +would have no right to resentment should the other refuse to take his +hand, to sit at meat with the man who had deprived Hilda Ryder of her +share in the gracious inheritance of life in the world she had called so +beautiful. + +For a second, indeed, Cheniston himself hesitated, checked in the +friendly greeting he had been about to bestow on his sister's visitor. +He had arrived late that evening, and had been dismissed to dress with +the hasty information that two guests were expected to dinner, but he +had had no idea of the last arrival's identity; and to him, too, the +meeting brought back with horrible poignancy that last bitter interview +in the haunted East. + +Then, for Bruce Cheniston was sufficiently just to acquit Anstice of any +share in this untoward situation, he held out his hand with a cold +courtesy which plainly betokened no intention of alluding to any former +meeting. + +"Good evening." Their hands touched, then fell apart. "You are a +new-comer to Littlefield, I understand. Like the place?" + +"Yes--in moderation," rejoined Anstice with equally frigid courtesy. +"The country has its charms--at this season of the year." + +"It has charms at all seasons, Dr. Anstice." Iris' light voice +challenged him, even while her grey eyes noted the strange expression in +his face. "I'm afraid you're not a real country lover if you qualify +your affection by picking out a particular season!" + +"You remind one of those people who love dogs--'in their proper place.'" +Chloe's tone was delicately quizzical. "On inquiry you find their proper +place is outside--in some kennel or inclosure as far away from the +speaker as it is possible to get!" + +"You can't be charged with that particular kind of affection, Chloe." +There was an assertive note in Cheniston's voice when he spoke to his +sister which was new to her. "You think a dog's proper place is the best +armchair or the downiest bed in the house!" + +For a second Chloe did not reply; and without waiting Bruce went on +speaking. + +"By the way, where are your dogs? I've not seen hide or hair of one +since I arrived." + +Again there was a short, but quite perceptible silence. Then Chloe said +tranquilly: + +"No wonder you haven't seen any dogs, Bruce. There aren't any to see." + +"No dogs?" Bruce was frankly astonished. "Why, in the old days you used +to declare you couldn't live without them!" + +Just for a second a quiver of emotion convulsed Chloe's usually +impassive face. Then she laughed, and Anstice thought her laugh almost +painful in its artificiality. + +"My dear Bruce," she said, "please remember the old days are as dead +as--as Queen Anne. When I was young enough and foolish enough to believe +in disinterested affection, and in the right of every creature to be +happy, I adored dogs--or thought I did. Now I am wiser, and know that +life is not all bones and playtime, so to speak. Besides, they always +die when one is fond of them, and I quite agree with Kipling that with +so much unavoidable discomfort to put up with, it's the height of folly +to 'give one's heart to a dog to tear.' In future I yield no fraction of +my heart to any living creature--not even a dog." + +Certainly Chloe's drawing-room was a battlefield of conflicting emotions +this evening. Just for a moment she had been shaken out of her usual +poise, had spoken warmly, as a normal woman might have done; yet both +Iris who loved her, and Anstice who had studied her, knew that this +warmer manner, this apparent freedom of speech, was in reality the +outward sign of some inward disturbance; and both guessed, vaguely, that +the meeting with her brother, who had not been in England for several +years, was the cause of her unusual animation. + +Fortunately as she finished speaking the gong which summoned them to +dinner began to sound; and a moment later Bruce offered his arm to Iris +and led her into the dining-room, followed by Anstice and his hostess. + +Not appearing to notice his proffered arm, Chloe walked beside him in a +sudden pensive silence which Anstice found oddly appealing after her +impetuous speech; and for a moment he forgot his own equivocal position +in a desire to help her through what he guessed to be a trying moment. + +Once seated at the pretty round table things became easier. The room was +softly lit by innumerable candles--a fancy of Chloe's--and in their +tender light both women looked their best. As usual Mrs. Carstairs wore +white, the fittest setting, Anstice thought, for her pale and tragic +grace; but to-night she had thrown a wonderful Chinese scarf round her +shoulders, and the deep blue ground, embroidered with black and green +birds and flowers, gave an unusually distinctive note to her elusive +personality. Opposite to her Iris, in her filmy grey-green frock, a big +bunch of violets at her breast, wore the look of a nymph, some woodland +creature whose fragrant charm and youthful freshness were in striking +contrast to Chloe's more finished beauty. + +The conversation, once started, ran easily enough. Although he never +mentioned India, Cheniston was ready enough to talk of Egypt, where for +some years he had made his home; and Iris, to whose young imagination +the very name of that mysterious land was a charm, listened entranced to +his description of a trip he had lately taken up the Nile. + +"You are an engineer, Mr. Cheniston?" Anstice interpolated a polite +question and Cheniston answered in the same tone. + +"Yes. And engineering in the land of the Pharaohs is no joke. You must +remember that we, as engineers, are only now where they were thousands +of years ago. I mean that our present-day feats, the Dam at Assouan, +wonderful as it is, and the rest, are mere child's play compared with +the marvels they constructed in their day." + +"So I have been told before." Only Anstice knew how hard it was to sit +there conversing as though he and this man shared no tragic memory in +common. "But if Egyptologists are to be believed there is hardly any +invention, any scientific discovery--so called--which wasn't known to +the Egyptians many thousands of years before the birth of Christ." + +"They even possessed aeroplanes, didn't they?" asked Iris, smiling; and +Bruce Cheniston turned to her with an involuntary softening in his +rather harsh voice. + +"So it is stated, I believe," he said, with an answering smile. "And it +is generally believed that in the lost Continent of Atlantis----" + +He went on talking, not monopolizing the conversation, but keeping it +going so skilfully that Iris, at least, did not recognize the fact that +both Mrs. Carstairs and Anstice were more than ordinarily silent as the +meal progressed. + +When the short but perfect dinner was finished Chloe rose. + +"We will have coffee in the drawing-room, Bruce," she said as she moved +slowly to the door. "If you are not too long over your cigarettes I +daresay Miss Wayne will sing for us." + +"With that inducement we shall soon follow you," said Cheniston gravely; +and as Iris passed through the door which Anstice held open for her she +gave him a friendly little smile which somehow nerved him for the ordeal +which he foresaw to be at hand. + +Closing the door he came back again to the table, but did not yet sit +down. Bruce had already reseated himself and was pouring out a glass of +port, an operation he interrupted with a perfunctory apology. + +"Forgive me--pray help yourself." He pushed the decanter across the +table, but Anstice shook his head. + +"No, thanks." He hesitated a moment, then plunged into the subject which +must surely be uppermost in both their minds. "See here, Cheniston, I +should like you to understand that when I accepted Mrs. Carstairs' kind +hospitality to-night I had no idea you were the brother I was to meet." + +For a second Cheniston said nothing, his brown hand playing absently +with a pair of nutcrackers beside him. Then he raised his head and +looked Anstice squarely in the face. + +"I am quite ready to believe that," he said slowly. "I can hardly +conceive any circumstances in which you would care to run the risk of a +meeting with me." + +"Quite so." Something in Cheniston's manner made Anstice suddenly angry. +"Though I would ask you, in common fairness, to believe that my distaste +for such a meeting rises rather from my reluctance to remind you of the +past than from any acknowledgment that you have a right to resent my +presence." + +Again Bruce Cheniston looked him in the face; and this time there was a +genuine surprise in his blue eyes. + +"I don't think I have given you reason to suppose I resent meeting you," +he said with a new note in his voice, a note of something more +definitely like hostility than he had hitherto permitted himself to +show. "Since you have started the subject I may say that as a rule one +doesn't greet as a brother the man who has robbed one of one's most +treasured possession--I'm speaking metaphorically, of course--but I +think you can hardly find fault with my--hesitation just now." + +"Oh, you have been politeness itself," said Anstice, rather bitterly. +"And in return for your forbearance I will relieve you of my unwelcome +presence immediately. Luckily my profession makes it easy for me to +behave with what, in another man, would appear discourtesy." + +He turned towards the door; but Bruce's voice arrested him midway. + +"One moment, Dr. Anstice." His tone was less openly hostile. "Don't go +yet, please. There are still one or two things to be said between us. +Will you do me the favour of sitting down again and letting us talk a +little?" + +"I don't see what good will come of it, but I'll stay if you wish." +Anstice returned to the table, and drawing out a chair--the one which +Iris had occupied during the meal--he sat down and lighted a cigarette +with a slightly defiant air. + +"To begin with"--Cheniston spoke abruptly--"I gather you know my +sister's story--know the bitter injustice that has been done to her in +this damned place?" + +Rather taken aback Anstice hesitated before replying, and Cheniston +continued without waiting for him to speak: + +"I say you know it, because my sister has a code of honour which forbids +her welcoming to her house anyone who is ignorant of that horrible +chapter in her history. And since I find you here, not only as a doctor, +but as a friend, I gather you believe she was innocent of the charge +against her." + +"Most certainly I believe in Mrs. Carstairs' innocence." He spoke warmly +now. + +"For that, at least, I am grateful to you." His tone did not betray +overwhelming gratitude, yet Anstice felt a sudden lightening of his +spirit. "To me, of course, it is absolutely inconceivable how anyone +could believe my sister guilty of such a degrading crime--or series of +crimes--but doubtless I am biassed in her favour. Still, you are a new +acquaintance, and don't know her as I do; so that I am grateful to you +for your clear-sightedness in the matter." + +He broke off for a moment to drink some wine. Then: + +"I should like to ask you one question. Does my sister know of that +episode in India? I mean, of course, of your share in the affair?" + +"No. And," said Anstice, "it has been puzzling me for the last couple of +hours to understand how it is that she has not connected my name with +you. Didn't she know it at the time?" + +"I daresay. But you must remember that my sister has gone through a +great deal since that day, three years ago. Very soon after that she +became involved in that terrible chain of events which led to her public +humiliation; and I haven't a shadow of doubt that the names of the +actors in the tragedy which broke up my life vanished completely from +her memory. As you may have noticed, Chloe is a self-centred woman. Her +sympathies are not deep, nor her interests wide. Her own life is a good +deal more interesting to her than the lives of other people--it is +generally so with strong characters, I believe--and after all, her own +tragedy has been so appalling that she may be excused if she has not a +very keen curiosity for those of others." + +"I quite agree with you. But"--it was Anstice's turn to look Cheniston +fully in the face--"do I understand you wish me to tell your sister of +our former--acquaintance?" + +After his question there fell a silence, during which Anstice had time +to study the other man more fully than he had hitherto done. + +Like himself, Cheniston had altered since that day in India. Although +still sunburned and florid, a typical young Englishman in his +square-shouldered build and general air of clean fitness, there was +something in his face which had not been there before, which warred +oddly with the youth which still lurked in the blue eyes and round the +clean-shaven mouth. The boyishness had vanished from his features, +taking with it all hint of softness; and in its place was a hard, +assertive look, the look of one who, having been once worsted in a bout +with Fate, through no fault of his own, was determined for the future to +keep a sharp lookout for his own interests and well-being. + +That it was a stronger face there was no denying, but it was also a far +less attractive one than that which Bruce Cheniston, the boy, had +presented to the world. + +At another moment Anstice would have found occasion for interested +speculation in the question as to whether or no this new man were the +real Bruce Cheniston--the Cheniston who would eventually have come to +the surface no matter how his life had been ordained; and as a +psychologist he would have found pleasure in debating the subject in all +its aspects. But as things were he was too miserably conscious that to +him, indirectly, this change from boy to man was due to take any +interest in the subtler question as to whether, after all, the +alteration was only the logical outcome of the man's true character, +uninfluenced by external happenings. + + * * * * * + +"No." Cheniston spoke so suddenly that Anstice started. "On the whole I +see no reason why my sister need be told the truth. Of course, one day +the similarity of name may flash upon her, and then, naturally, she must +be told." + +"Quite so." Anstice played with an empty glass for a moment. "As a +matter of fact I should really prefer Mrs. Carstairs to know the truth. +Of course the decision rests with you; but if you see your way to +telling her the story, pray don't be held back from doing so by any +scruples on my account. Besides----" + +Suddenly, so suddenly that he broke off involuntarily in his sentence, +the notes of the piano rang out from the room across the hall, and +without thinking what he did he rose hastily to his feet. + +"Miss Wayne is going to sing." Cheniston followed his lead politely. +"Shall we go and listen to the concert, Anstice?" + +"As you like. Forgive my abruptness, Cheniston." He had realized he had +acted unconventionally. "Miss Wayne's singing is a treat one doesn't +want to lose." + +With a queer little smile Cheniston led the way across the hall, and +they entered the drawing-room, Iris bringing her prelude to a close as +the door opened to admit them. + +"Come and sit down, Dr. Anstice." Chloe indicated a deep chair beside +the piano, and nothing loth, Anstice sat down as directed, while +Cheniston, his face a little in shadow, stood by one of the +widely-opened casements, through which the scents of the sleeping garden +stole softly, like a benison from the heart of the pitiful earth. + +A moment later Iris began to sing, and once again her rich, soft tones +seemed to cast a spell over Anstice's troubled, bitter spirit. + +From his low seat he had an unimpeded view of the singer. Her profile, +shaded by her soft, fair hair, looked unusually pure and delicate in the +candlelight, and as she sang the rise and fall of her breast in its fold +of filmy chiffon, the motion of her hands over the ivory keys, the sweet +seriousness of her expression, gave her an appearance of radiant, tender +youth which held an appeal as potent as it was unconscious. + +When she had finished her song, the last notes dying away into silence, +Cheniston came forward quickly. + +"Miss Wayne, you sing beautifully. May we ask for another song? You're +not tired, are you?" + +He bent over her as he spoke, and something in his manner, something +subtly protective, made Anstice's heart beat with a sudden fierce +jealousy which he knew to be quite unjustifiable. + +"No, I'm not in the least tired." Iris lifted her grey eyes frankly to +Cheniston's face, and again Anstice, watching, felt a pang of whose +nature he could have no doubt. He rose from his chair, with a +half-formed intention of adding his entreaties to those of Cheniston, +but sank back again as he realized the favour was already won. + +"I will sing with pleasure." Iris turned on the music-stool to glance at +her hostess, and Anstice saw her face, pearly and luminous in the soft +candlelight. "Mrs. Carstairs, you like Dvorak. Shall I sing you one of +his gipsy songs?" + +"Please, Iris." Few words of endearment ever passed between the two, yet +each felt something like real affection for the other, and Chloe's deep +voice was always gentle when she spoke to Iris. + +The next moment Cheniston stepped back and took up his former position +on the far side of the piano; and Iris began the simple little melody +which Dvorak acquired from the gipsies of his native land. + + "Songs my mother taught me + In the days long vanished!" + +So far Anstice heard the pure, soft voice; and suddenly he felt a +half-shy, half-reverential wonder as to what manner of woman she had +been who had brought this adorable girl into the world. Surely Fate had +been cruel to this unknown woman, inasmuch as Death had been permitted +to snatch her away before her eyes had been gladdened by the vision of +her child grown into this priceless, this wonderful youth, which held a +hint of a yet more gracious, yet more desirable womanhood.... + +And then the second verse stole softly on the quiet air.... + + "Now I teach my children + Each melodious measure...." + +Again did one, at least, of Iris' hearers lose the remaining lines. For +to Anstice these words brought another vision--a vision in which Iris, +this fair-haired girl who looked so adorably young and sweet, bent over +a little child whose rose-leaf face was a baby replica of her own.... + +And suddenly Anstice knew, knew irrevocably, beyond shadow of doubt, +that he wanted Iris Wayne for himself, that she was the one woman in all +the world he desired to make his wife.... + +With a wild throb of his heart he looked up--to find Bruce Cheniston's +eyes fixed upon his face with a half-mocking smile in their blue depths, +of whose hostile meaning there could be no question. + + * * * * * + +An hour or so later, when the guests had departed, and Cheniston had +finished a solitary pipe downstairs, he went up, yawning, to bed. +Passing his sister's open door he heard her call him, and after a +second's indecision he answered the summons, wondering why she were not +already asleep. + +Chloe was sitting by the open window, wearing a thin grey wrapper which +made her look curiously pale and ethereal. Her thick hair hung in two +heavy plaits over her shoulders, and in the dim light her face showed +indistinctly in its silky black frame. + +"Chloe, why aren't you in bed?" Bruce paused half-way across the room. + +"I'm not sleepy," she said indifferently. "I often sit here half the +night. Bruce"--her voice grew more alert--"have you and Dr. Anstice met +before?" + +"Yes," he said, "we have. But why do you ask?" + +"I thought there was something rather curious about your meeting," she +answered slowly. "At first I could not understand it, and then it dawned +upon me that you had met--and distrusted one another--before." + +"Distrusted?" He stared at her. "That isn't the right word, Chloe. We +_have_ met before--in India. I almost wonder you yourself didn't realize +that fact, but I suppose you were not sufficiently interested----" + +She interrupted him without ceremony. + +"I? But how should I realize ... unless"--suddenly her intuition serving +her as it serves so many women, she grasped the truth with a quickness +which surprised even her brother--"was that the name of the man who--you +don't mean it was Dr. Anstice who ... who...." + +He nodded. + +"Yes. I see you've grasped the truth. Anstice is an uncommon name, and +I'm surprised you did not recognize it earlier." + +"I had forgotten it." She stared at him, her blue eyes narrowing as her +mind worked quickly. "I see now. Dr. Anstice is the man----" + +"Who shot Hilda Ryder." Cheniston finished her sentence for her calmly, +but she saw him whiten beneath his tan. "Yes. He is the man all right. +We met, once, in Bombay--afterwards. And now you know why our meeting +to-night was not calculated to give either of us any great pleasure." + +"Yes. I know now." She spoke slowly, almost meditatively. "And I know, +too, why he always looks so sad. Bruce, from the bottom of my heart I +pity that man." + +"You do?" Bruce's eyebrows rose. "I confess I don't see why you should +waste your pity on him. I think you might bestow a little more of it on +me--though it is rather late for pity now." + +"On you?" Slowly her blue gaze rested on his face. "Bruce, you don't +compare your position with his? Surely even you can understand that he +is a thousand times more to be pitied than you? I always thought there +was a tragedy in Dr. Anstice's life. But I never dreamed it was quite so +piteous as this." + +Bruce uttered an exclamation of impatience. + +"I didn't expect such sentimentality from you, Chloe. I gathered from +your conversation before dinner that you were pretty well disillusioned +by this time, and it rather surprises me to hear you pouring out your +compassion on a man like Anstice, who certainly doesn't strike me as +requiring any outside sympathy." + +For a moment there was silence, while Chloe played absently with a +bracelet she had just discarded. Then she said tranquilly: + +"You never were overburdened with brains, Bruce, though I grant you do +well in your own profession. But, if you fail to see the reason why Dr. +Anstice is deserving of more compassion than you I'm afraid it's +hopeless to expect anything very brilliant from you in the future." + +Cheniston's eyes darkened and his jaw set itself aggressively. For a +moment his sister found him an unfamiliar personality, and in her own +indifferent way asked herself whether after all she had ever known her +brother thoroughly. + +Then as she was considering the problem, and finding it mildly +attractive, Bruce turned on his heel and strode sulkily to the door. + +"Good night," he said angrily as he reached it. "You're in one of your +aggravating moods to-night, and it's no use me staying to talk to you." + +"Not a bit of use," she assented serenely; and her brother went out, +nearly falling over Tochatti, who was evidently about to seek admission +to her mistress's room. + +"Why on earth aren't you in bed, Tochatti?" His inward annoyance made +him speak harshly; but Tochatti apparently bore no resentment. + +She murmured something to which he paid scant attention; and then, +standing aside for him to pass her, she quietly entered the room he had +just quitted, and proceeded with her final duties for the night. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +For two or three weeks after his meeting with Mrs. Carstairs' brother, +Anstice avoided both Cherry Orchard and Greengates. + +From a chance word in the village he had learned that Bruce Cheniston +was prolonging his visit to his sister; and that new and totally +unreasoning jealousy which had assailed Anstice as he saw Cheniston +bending over Iris Wayne at the piano told him with a horrid certainty +that to the girl herself belonged the responsibility for this change in +the young man's plans. + +In his calmer moments Anstice could not help admitting the suitability +of a friendship, at least, between the two. Although he had lost much of +his attractive boyishness Cheniston was a good-looking fellow enough; +and there was no denying the fact that he and Miss Wayne were a +well-matched pair so far as youth and vitality and general good looks +went; and yet Anstice could not visualize the pair together without a +fierce, wild pang of jealousy which pierced his heart with an almost +intolerable anguish. + +For he wanted Iris Wayne for himself. He loved her; and therein lay +tragedy; for he told himself miserably that he had no right to ask her +to couple her radiant young life with his, already overshadowed by that +past happening in India. + +Not only that, but he was already over thirty, she but eighteen; and Sir +Richard Wayne's daughter was only too well provided with this world's +goods, while he, with all his training, all his toil, was even yet a +comparatively poor man, with nothing to offer the girl in exchange for +the luxurious home from which he would fain take her. + +On every count he knew himself to be ineligible; and in the same flash +of insight he saw Bruce Cheniston, young, good-looking, distinguished in +his profession, in the receipt of a large salary; and owned to himself, +with that clarity of vision which rarely failed him, that Cheniston, +rather than he, was a fit suitor for Iris Wayne. + +On several occasions during those weeks of May he saw the two together; +and each time this happened he felt as though the sun had vanished from +the sky, as though the soft breezes of early summer were turned to the +cold and hopeless blast of an icy north-easter. + +Cheniston had a motor-bicycle on which he intended to explore the +district; and on finding a kindred spirit in Miss Wayne he had +inaugurated a series of expeditions in which she was his companion; +while Chloe Carstairs and Cherry would motor forth in the same direction +and share a picnic lunch at some wayside hostelry--an arrangement which +afforded unbounded pleasure to some members, at least, of the quartette. + +That Cheniston was strongly attracted by Iris, Anstice did not doubt. On +one unlucky Sunday he had received an invitation from Greengates, which, +delivered as it was in person by Sir Richard himself, could not have +been refused without discourtesy; and in the middle of the evening +Cheniston had dropped in casually with a message from his sister, and +had stayed on with an easy certainty of welcome which betokened a rapid +growth in favour with both father and daughter. + +What Iris' feelings towards the new-comer might be Anstice had no means +of discovering. Her manner towards him was delightfully girlish and +simple, and it was plain to see that she was fascinated by his accounts +of life in the wonderful Egypt which holds always so strong an +attraction for the romantic temperament; but with all her young +_insouciance_ Iris Wayne was not one to wear her heart upon her sleeve; +and her friendliness never lost that touch of reticence, of unconscious +dignity which constituted, to Anstice, one of her greatest charms. + +Towards himself, as an older man and one whose life naturally ran on +contrasting lines, her manner was a little less assured, as though she +were not quite certain of her right to treat him as one on a level with +herself; but the tinge of girlish deference to which, as he guessed, his +profession entitled him in her eyes, was now and then coloured with +something else, with a hint of gentleness, not unlike compassion, which +was oddly, dangerously sweet to his sore and lonely heart. + +Somehow the idea of marriage had never previously entered his head. +Before the day which had, so to speak, cut his life in two, with a line +of cleavage dividing the careless past from the ever-haunted future, he +had been too busy, too much occupied in preparation for the brilliant +career which he felt would one day be his, to allow thoughts of marriage +to distract him from his chosen work. And since that fatal day, although +his old enthusiasm, his old belief in himself and his capabilities, had +long ago receded into the dim background, he had never consciously +thought of any amelioration of the loneliness, the bitter, regretful +solitude in which he now had his being. + +Yet the thought of Iris Wayne was oddly, uncomfortably distracting; and +in those weeks of May, during which he deliberately denied himself the +sight of her, Anstice's face grew haggard, his eyes more sunken beneath +their straight black brows. + +Yet Fate ordained that he should meet her, more, do her service; and the +meeting, with its subsequent conversation, was one which Iris at least +was destined never to forget. + +One grey and cloudy morning when the sun had forgotten to shine, and the +air was warm and moist, Anstice was driving his car along a country road +when he espied her sitting by the wayside with a rather woe-begone face. + +Her motor-bicycle was beside her and she was engaged in tying a knot, +with the fingers of her left hand aided by her teeth, in a +roughly-improvised bandage which hid her right wrist. + +On seeing his car she looked up; and something in the rather piteous +expression of her grey eyes made him slow down beside her. + +"What's wrong, Miss Wayne? Had a spill?" + +She answered him ruefully. + +"Yes. At least my motor skidded and landed me in the road. And I cut my +wrist on a sharp stone--look!" + +She held up a cruelly-jagged flint; and Anstice sprang out of his car +and approached her. + +"I say, what a horrid-looking thing! Let me see your wrist, may I? I +think you'd better let me bind it up for you." + +"Will you?" She held out her wrist obediently, and taking off the +handkerchief which bound it he saw that it was really badly cut, the +blood still dripping from the wound. + +"Ah, quite a nasty gash--it would really do with a stitch or two." He +hesitated, looking at her thoughtfully. "Miss Wayne, what's to be done? +You can't ride home like that, and yet we can hardly leave your +motor-bike on the roadside." + +He paused a second, his wits at work. Then his face cleared. + +"I know what we'll do," he said. "Round this corner is a cottage where a +patient of mine lives. We'll go in there, dispatch her son to look after +the bike till I patch you up, and then if you can't manage to ride home +we'll think of some other arrangement." + +Iris rose, gladly, from her lowly seat. + +"That's splendid, Dr. Anstice. I'm sure I can ride home if you will stop +this stupid bleeding." + +"Good." He liked her pluck. "Jump into my car and we'll go and interview +Mrs. Treble." + +"What an odd name!" + +"Yes, isn't it? And by a strange coincidence her maiden name was Bass!" + +Iris laughed, and a little colour came into her pale cheeks as they sped +swiftly round the corner in search of the oddly-named lady's abode. + +Mrs. Treble, who was engaged in hanging out the weekly washing in the +small garden, was all sympathy at the sight of the young lady's wounded +wrist, and invited them into the parlour and provided the basin of water +and other accessories for which Anstice asked with a cheerful bustle +which took no account of any trouble involved. + +When she had dispatched her son, an overgrown lad who had just left +school, to keep watch over the motor-cycle, Mrs. Treble requested the +doctor's leave to continue her work; and nothing loth, Anstice shut the +door upon her and gave his attention to his pale patient. + +He had brought in a small leather case from his car, and after cleansing +the wound he selected a needle and some fine wire in order to put in the +necessary stitches, watched the while by a pair of interested, if +somewhat apprehensive eyes. + +"I won't hurt you, Miss Wayne." Somehow he felt oddly reluctant to +inflict even a pinprick of pain on this particular patient. "I'm awfully +sorry, but I'm afraid I really must put in a couple of stitches. I'll be +as gentle as I can." + +Iris laughed, rather shamefacedly. + +"You think I am a coward," she said, "and you're quite right. I openly +confess I dread bearing pain, probably because I've never known anything +worse than toothache in my life!" + +"Toothache can be the very--er--deuce," he said. "I once had it myself, +and ever since then I've had the liveliest sympathy for any poor +victim!" + +"But there are so many other pains, so much worse, that it seems absurd +to talk of mere toothache as a real pain," she objected, and Anstice +laughed. + +"Quite so, but you must remember that the other 'real pains' have +alleviations which are denied to mere toothache. One's friends do at +least take the other things seriously, and offer sympathy as freely as +more potent remedies; while the sight of a swollen face is apt to cause +one's relations a quite heartless amusement!" + +"Well, it must be a consolation to be taken seriously," she said, "and I +do think sympathy is wonderfully cheering. Are all doctors as +sympathetic as you, Dr. Anstice?" + +For a moment Anstice suspected her of mockery. He was well aware that +for all his real sympathy with acute suffering he was not remarkable for +patience in cases of less reality; and he knew that the people whose +ailments belonged to the latter category were apt to find his manner +abrupt and unsympathetic. + +But a glance at Iris' face showed him she had spoken in good faith; and +he answered her in the same spirit. + +"There are a good many men in the world who are far more sympathetic +with suffering humanity than I, Miss Wayne." For a moment his face +clouded, and Iris noticed the change wonderingly. "I'm afraid my manner +isn't all it might be. It isn't that I'm not genuinely sorry for people +who are, or think themselves, ill; but ..." for a second he hesitated, +then a quite unusual impulse drove him into speech, "... the fact is, I +once had a knock-down blow myself; and curiously enough it seemed to +dull my capacity for entering into the sufferings of others." + +She took him up with unexpected comprehension. + +"I think I can understand that. It has always seemed to me that it is +not the people who have suffered who sympathize ... they understand, if +you know what I mean, but they aren't just sorry like the people who +haven't had any sorrows of their own to spend their pity on...." + +She broke off abruptly, and with equal abruptness Anstice suspended +operations to ask, with a solicitude which belied his earlier speech, +whether he were hurting her very badly. + +"No ... not at all ... at least, hardly at all," she answered honestly. +"I was just wishing I could explain myself better. Now take Mrs. +Carstairs, for instance." Iris knew that Chloe had told Anstice her +story. "She has suffered as very few people like her have to do, but I +don't think it has made her exactly what you call sympathetic." + +"That is just what I mean," said Anstice. "Somehow I think suffering is +apt to destroy one's nerve of sympathy for others. It atrophies, withers +away in the blast of one's personal tragedy; and although Mrs. Carstairs +might be able to enter into the feelings of another unhappy woman more +fully than--well, than you could do, I think you would be more likely to +feel what we call 'sorry for' that woman than she would be." + +"I'm glad you agree with me," said Iris slowly. "Dr. Anstice, would you +think me very--impertinent--if I say I'm sorry you have +been--unhappy--too? I--somehow I always thought you"--she stopped, +flushed, but continued bravely--"you looked so sad sometimes I used to +wonder if you too had suffered, like poor Mrs. Carstairs." + +For a moment Anstice's fingers faltered in their task, and the girl's +heart missed a beat as she wondered whether she had said too much. + +Then: + +"Miss Wayne"--Anstice's voice reassured her even while it filled her +with a kind of wondering foreboding--"I should never find any +impertinence in any interest _you_ might be kind enough to express. I +have suffered--bitterly--and the worst of my suffering lies in the fact +that others--one other at least besides myself--were involved in the ill +I unwittingly wrought." + +Again her answer surprised him by the depth of comprehension it +conveyed. + +"That, too, I can understand," said Iris gently. "I have often tried to +imagine how one must feel when one has unknowingly harmed another +person; and it has always seemed to me that one would feel as one does +when one has spoken unkindly, or impatiently, at least, to a child." + +For a second Anstice busied himself in bandaging the slim wrist he held. +Then, without looking up, he said: + +"You have thought more deeply than many girls of your age, Miss Wayne. I +wonder if you would extend your pity to me if you knew the nature of my +particular tragedy." + +A sudden spatter of rain against the window-pane made them both look up +in surprise; and in a lighter tone Anstice said: + +"A sharp shower, I see. I've finished my work, you'll be glad to hear, +but I think it will be wiser to wait here till the rain's over. Will +your cycle take any harm?" + +"Oh, no, it can be dried at home," said Iris rather absently; and both +of them were too much preoccupied to expend any of their talked-of +sympathy on the overgrown youth patiently guarding the motor by the +roadside. + +"Come and try an easier chair, won't you?" Anstice pushed forward a +capacious rocking-chair and Iris took it obediently, while Anstice +leaned against the table regarding her rather curiously. + +"Miss Wayne." Suddenly he felt a quite overwhelming desire to admit this +girl into his jealously-guarded confidence. "From something you said +just now I gathered that you had been good enough to spare a thought for +me now and then. Does that mean that your kindness would extend so far +as to allow you to listen to a very short story in which I, +unfortunately, am the principal character?" + +"I am ready to listen to anything you care to tell me," she said gently; +and looking into her steadfast grey eyes Anstice told himself that a man +could desire no sweeter, more trustworthy confidante. + +"Well"--he sighed--"here is the story. Once, in India, I found myself in +a tight place, with a woman, a girl, who was almost a perfect stranger +to me. We had unwittingly trespassed into a native Temple, and the +penalty for such trespass was--death." + +He paused a second, wondering whether she had heard Bruce Cheniston's +story; but although there was deep interest there was no recognition in +her quiet attention; and he hurried on. + +"She--the girl--made me promise not to allow her to fall into the hands +of the natives. Whether she was correct in her fears of what might +happen to her I don't know; but I confess I shared them at the time. +Anyhow I promised that if help did not come before dawn--we were to die +at sunrise--I would shoot her with my own hand." + +Again he paused; and the horror in Iris' grey eyes deepened. + +"Well, help did come--ten minutes too late. I was standing with my back +against the wall, the guns were levelled at my heart, when the rescuers +burst into the courtyard and the natives fled. But I had shot the girl +ten minutes earlier...." + +Anstice's brow was wet with drops of sweat as he finished, his whole +being convulsed with reminiscent agony; and he turned aside lest he +should read shrinking, or worse, condemnation in the grey eyes which had +never left his face. + +There was a silence in which to the man who waited the whole world +seemed to halt upon its axis, as though aghast at the brief recital +which was almost Greek in its sense of inevitable tragedy; and for a +wild, hateful moment Anstice told himself that for all her boasted +comprehension Iris had not the power to understand the full force of the +situation. + +Then, suddenly, he found her beside him. She had left her chair, +noiselessly, as he turned away, and now she was standing close to him, +her hand on his arm, her grey eyes, full of the sweetest, most divine +compassion, seeking his ravaged face. + +"Oh, you poor thing!" The pity in her voice made it sound like the +softest music. "What a dreadfully sad story; and how you must have +suffered. But"--her kind little hand tightened on his arm--"why should +you reproach yourself so bitterly? You did the only thing it was +possible for you to do. No man living could have done anything else." + +He turned to her now, and he had recaptured his self-control. + +"It is sweet--and kind--of you to say just that." Even now his voice was +not quite steady. "And if I could believe it--but all the time I tell +myself if I had only waited ... there would perhaps have been a +chance ... I was too quick, too ready to obey her request, to carry out +my promise...." + +"No, Dr. Anstice." In Iris' voice was a womanliness which showed his +story had reached the depths of her being. "I'm quite certain that's the +wrong way to look at it. As things were, there was nothing else to be +done, _nothing_. If I had been the girl," said Iris quietly, "I should +have thought you very cruel if you had broken your promise to me." + +"Ah, yes," he said, slowly; "but you see there is another factor in the +case which I haven't told you--yet. She was engaged to be married--and +by acting prematurely I destroyed the hopes of the man who loved +her--whom she loved to the last second of her life." + +This time Iris was silent so long that he went on speaking with an +attempt at a lighter tone. + +"Well, that's the story--and a pretty gloomy one, isn't it? But I have +no right to inflict my private sorrows on you, and so----" + +She interrupted him as though she had not heard his last words. + +"Dr. Anstice, when you realized what had happened, what did you do? I +mean, when you came back to England? I suppose you did come back, after +that?" + +"Yes. I had an interview with the man--the girl's _fiancé_ and came +home." He shrugged his shoulders, a bitter memory chasing away the +softer emotions of the preceding moment. "What did I do? Well, I did +what a dozen other fellows might have done in my place. I sought +forgetfulness of the past by various means, tried to drown the thought +of what had happened in every way I could, and merely succeeded in +delivering myself over to a bondage a hundred times more terrible than +that from which I was trying to escape." + +For the first time Iris looked perplexed. + +"I don't think I understand," she said, and again Anstice's face +changed. + +"No," he said, and his voice was gentle, "of course you don't. And +there's no reason why you should. Let us leave the matter at that, Miss +Wayne. I am grateful to you for listening so patiently to my story." + +"Ah," she said, and her eyes were wistful, "but I should like to know +what you meant just now. Won't you tell me? Or do you think I am too +stupid to understand?" + +"No. But I think you are too young," he said; and the girl coloured. + +"Of course if you would rather not----" + +Something in her manner made him suddenly change his mind. + +"There is no reason why I should make a mystery of it," he said. "I +hesitated about telling you because--well, for various reasons; but +after all you might as well know the truth. I tried to win forgetfulness +by the aid of drugs--morphia, to be exact." + +He had startled her now. + +"You took morphia----?" Her voice was dismayed. + +"Yes, for nearly six months I gave myself up to it. I told myself there +was no real danger for me--I knew the peril of it so well. I wasn't like +the people who go in ignorantly for the thing; and find themselves bound +hand and foot, their lives in ruins round them. That is what I thought, +in my folly." He sighed, and his face looked careworn. "Well, I soon +found out that I was just like other people after all. I went into the +thing, thinking I should find a way out of my troubles. And I was +wrong." + +"You gave it up?" Her voice was suddenly anxious. + +"Yes. In the nick of time I came across an old friend--a friend of my +student days, who had been looking for me, unknown to me, for months. He +wanted me to do some research work for him--work that necessitated +visiting hospitals in Paris and Berlin and Vienna--and I accepted the +commission only too gladly." + +"And--you gave up the terrible thing?" + +"Yes. The new interest saved me, you know. I came back, after some +months of hard work, and found my friend on the eve of starting with an +expedition for Central Africa, to study tropical diseases; and had there +been a place for me I would have gone too. But there wasn't; and I was a +bit fagged, so after doing locum work for another friend for some time I +looked about for a practice, bought this one--and here I am." + +"Dr. Anstice "--she spoke shyly, though her eyes met his bravely--"you +won't ever take that dreadful stuff again, will you? I am quite sure," +said Iris Wayne, "that _that_ is not the way out." + +"No," he answered steadily, "you are quite right. It isn't. But I haven't +found the way out yet." He paused a moment; then held out his hand, and +she put her uninjured left hand into it rather wonderingly. "Still, I +will not seek that way out again. I will promise--no, I won't promise, +for I'm only human and I couldn't bear to break a promise to _you_--but +I will do my best to avoid the deadly thing for the rest of my life." + +He pressed her hand gently, then dropped it as a sudden loud knock +sounded on the door. + +"Come in." They turned to see who the visitor might be; and to the +surprise of both in walked Bruce Cheniston, an unmistakable frown on his +face. + +"Hullo! It is you, after all, Iris!" Anstice noted the use of her +Christian name, and in the same moment remembered there was a +long-standing friendship between the families. "I thought it was your +motor-cycle I found by the roadside, with a lanky yokel mounting guard +over it; and he said something about an accident----" + +"Nothing very serious." Iris smiled at him in friendly fashion, and his +face cleared. "I skidded--or the bicycle did--and I fell off and cut my +wrist." + +"I found Miss Wayne sitting by the roadside binding up her wound," +interposed Anstice rather coldly, "and persuaded her to come in here and +have it properly seen to. If it had not been for the rain she would have +been on her way home by now." + +"I see. It was lucky you passed." Evidently Iris' presence prevented any +display of hostility. "Well, the rain is over now, but"--he glanced at +Iris' bandaged wrist--"you oughtn't to ride home if you're disabled. +What do you say, Dr. Anstice?" + +"I think, seeing it is the right wrist, it would be neither wise nor +easy for Miss Wayne to ride," said Anstice professionally, and Cheniston +nodded. + +"Well, we will leave the cycle here, and send one of the men for it +presently," he said. "Luckily I have got Chloe's car, and I can soon run +you over, Iris. I suppose that is your motor outside?" he added, turning +to Anstice with sudden briskness. + +"Yes." Anstice glanced towards the window. "It is fine now, and I must +be off, at any rate." + +He packed the things he had used back into their little case, and turned +towards the door. + +"Good morning, Miss Wayne. I hope your wrist won't give you any further +pain." + +"Good-bye, Dr. Anstice." She held out her left hand with a smile. "Ever +so many thanks. I don't know what I should have done if you had not +passed just then!" + +The trio went out together, after a word to the mistress of the cottage; +and Bruce helped Iris into the car with an air of proprietorship which +did not escape the notice of the other man. + +"Hadn't you better start first, Dr. Anstice?" Cheniston spoke with cool +courtesy. "Your time is more valuable than ours, no doubt!" + +"Thanks. Yes, I haven't time to waste." His tone was equally cool. "Good +morning, Miss Wayne. 'Morning, Cheniston." + +A moment later he had started his engine; and in yet another moment his +car was out of sight round the corner of the road. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +After the episode in the wayside cottage on that showery morning of May +Anstice made no further attempt to avoid Iris Wayne. + +The way in which she had received his story had lifted a weight off his +mind. She had not shrunk from him, as in his morbid distrust he had +fancied possible. Rather she had shown him only the sweetest, kindest +pity; and it seemed to him that on the occasion of their next meeting +she had greeted him with a new warmth in her manner which was surely +intended to convey to him the fact that she had appreciated the +confidence he had bestowed upon her. + +Besides--like the rest of us Anstice was a sophist at heart--the +kindness with which Sir Richard Wayne had consistently treated him was +surely deserving of gratitude at least. + +It would be discourteous, if nothing more, to refuse his invitations +save when the press of work precluded their acceptance; and so it came +about that Anstice once more entered the hospitable doors which guarded +Greengates, incidentally making the acquaintance of Lady Laura Wells, +Sir Richard's widowed sister, who kept house for him with admirable +skill, if at times with rather overbearing imperiousness. + +Sir Richard, for all his years, was hale and hearty and loved a game of +tennis; so that when once Iris' wrist was healed there were many keenly +contested games during the long, light evenings--games in which Iris, +partnered either by Cheniston or Anstice, darted about the court like a +young Diana in her short white skirt and blouse open at the neck to +display the firm, round throat which was one of her greatest charms. + +The antagonism between Anstice and Bruce Cheniston deepened steadily +during these golden summer days. Had they met in different +circumstances, had there been no question, however vague and undefined, +of rivalry between them, it is possible there would have been no +positive hostility in their mutual attitude. Any genuine friendship was +naturally debarred, seeing the nature of the memory they shared in +common; but it would have been conceivably possible for them to have met +and recognized one another's existence with a neutrality which would +have covered a real but harmless distaste for each other's society. + +Having been forced, by an unkind Fate, into a position in which each saw +in the other a possible rival, any neutrality was out of the question. +It had not taken Anstice long to discover that Cheniston had so far +recovered from the loss of Hilda Ryder as to consider the possibility of +making another woman his wife; nor had Cheniston's eyes been less keen. + +He had very quickly discovered that Anstice was in love with pretty +Iris; and instantly a fire of opposition sprang into fierce flame in his +heart; and to himself he said that this man, having once deprived him of +his chosen woman, should not again be permitted to come between him and +his desire. + +True, he did not profess to love Iris Wayne as he had loved Hilda Ryder; +for no other woman in the world could ever fill the place in his life +left vacant by that untimely shot in the dawn of an Indian day. + +Until the hour in which he learned of Miss Ryder's tragic death Bruce +Cheniston had been an ordinary easy-going youth, cleverer in some ways +than the average man, on a level with most as regarded his outlook on +life and its possibilities. He had never been very deeply moved over +anything. Things had always gone smoothly with him, and he had passed +through school and college with quite passable success and complete +satisfaction in himself and his surroundings. His love for Hilda Ryder +was the best and highest thing in his whole life; and in his attempt to +become what she believed him to be he rose to a higher mental and moral +stature than he had ever before attained. + +And then had come the tragedy which had deprived him at once of the girl +he had loved and the incentive to a better, worthier manhood which her +love had supplied. For her sake he could have done much, could have +vanquished all the petty failings, the selfish weaknesses which marred +his not otherwise unattractive character; but when Hilda Ryder vanished +from his life he lost something which he never regained. + +He grew older, harder, more cynical. His sunny boyishness, which had +effectually masked the cold determination beneath, dropped from him as a +discarded garment; and the real man, the man whose possibilities Hilda +Ryder had dimly presaged and had resolved to conquer, came to the +surface. + +He felt, perhaps naturally, that he had a grudge against Fate; and the +immediate result was to eliminate all softness from his character, and +replace such amiable weakness by a harsh determination to shape his life +henceforth to his own design, if indeed strength of purpose and a +relentless lack of consideration for any other living being could +compass such an end. + +Fate had beaten him once. He was determined such victory should be +final; and during the last few years Bruce Cheniston had been known as a +man who invariably achieved his object in whatever direction such +achievement lay--a man of whom his friends prophesied that he would +surely go far; while his enemies, a small number, certainly, for on the +whole he was popular, labelled him ruthless in the pursuit of his +particular aims. + +Perhaps he was not to blame for the metamorphosis which followed Hilda +Ryder's death. For the first time he had loved a human being better than +himself; so that the reaction which fell upon his spirit when he +realized that his love was no longer needed was in its very nature +severe. + +Never again would he rise to the height of greatness to which his love +for Hilda Ryder had raised him; and whatever the quality of any +affection he might in future bestow upon a woman, the spark of +immortality, of selflessness, which had undoubtedly inspired his first +and truest love, would never again be kindled in his heart. + +Yet in his way Bruce was attracted to Iris Wayne. On their last meeting +she had been a little schoolgirl, a pretty creature, certainly, but not +to be compared with the beautiful and gracious Hilda, to whom he was +newly betrothed. Yet now, on meeting her again, he was bound to confess +that Iris was wonderfully attractive; and in a strangely short period of +time he came, by imperceptible degrees, to look upon her as a possible +successor to the woman he had lost. + +The fact that Anstice too found her desirable was stimulating. One of +Cheniston's newly-acquired characteristics was a tendency to covet any +object on which another had set his heart; and although in matters of +business this trait was possibly excusable enough, in this instance it +seemed likely to prove fatal to Anstice's happiness. + + * * * * * + +Which of the two men Iris herself preferred it would have taken a +magician to understand. + +With Bruce she was always her gayest self, plying him with eager +questions concerning his life in Egypt; and she was quite evidently +flattered by the pains he took to charm and interest her with his +picturesque narratives of experiences in the land of the Nile. He was, +moreover, at her service at all times, always ready to take her +motor-cycling, or to play tennis or golf with her; and although Iris was +as free from vanity as any girl could possibly be, it was not unpleasing +to her youthful self-esteem to find a man like Cheniston over ready at +her beck and call. + +With Anstice she was quieter, shyer, more serious; yet Sir Richard, who +watched the trio, as it were from afar, had a suspicion sometimes that +the Iris whom Anstice knew was a more real, more genuine person than the +gay and frivolous girl who laughed through the sunny hours with the +younger man. + +So the days passed on; and if Anstice was once more living in a fools' +Paradise, this time the key which unlocked the Gate of Dreams was made +of purest gold. + + * * * * * + +In the middle of July Iris was to celebrate the eighteenth anniversary +of her birth; and rather to Anstice's dismay he found that the event was +to be marked by a large and festive merry-making--nothing less, in fact, +than a dinner-party, followed by a dance to be held in the rarely-used +ballroom for which Greengates had been once famous. + +"You'll come, of course, Dr. Anstice?" Iris asked the question one sunny +afternoon as she prepared an iced drink for her visitor, after a +strenuous game of tennis. "You do dance, don't you? For my part I could +dance for ever." + +"I do dance, yes," he said, taking the tumbler she held out to him, with +a word of thanks. "But I don't think a ball is exactly in my line +nowadays." + +"It's not a ball," she said gaily. "Aunt Laura doesn't approve of oven a +dance, seeing I'm not really 'out' till I've been presented next +year--but Dad has been a perfect dear and says we can dance as long as +we like down here where none of our London relations can see us!" + +"Well, dance or ball, I suppose it will be a large affair?" He smiled at +her, and she told herself that he grew younger every day. + +"About a hundred and fifty, I suppose," she said lightly. "The room holds +two hundred, but a crowded room is hateful--though an empty one would be +almost worse. Anyhow, you are invited, first of all. Dinner is at seven, +because we want to start dancing at nine. Will you come?" + +Just for a second he hesitated. Then: + +"Of course I'll come," he said recklessly. "But you must promise me at +least three dances, or I shall plead an urgent telephone call and fly in +the middle!" + +"Three!" Her grey eyes laughed into his. "That's rather greedy! +Well--I'll give you two, and--perhaps--an extra." + +"That's a promise," he said, and taking out a small notebook he made an +entry therein. "And now, in view of coming frivolities, I must go and +continue my day's work." + +He rose and looked round the lovely old garden rather regretfully. + +"How lucky you are to be able to spend the summer days in such a cool, +shady spot as this! I wish you could see some of the stuffy cottages I +go into round here--windows hermetically sealed, and even the +fireplaces, when there are any, blocked up!" + +She looked at him rather strangely. + +"Do you know. Dr. Anstice," she said, irrelevantly, it seemed, "I don't +believe you ought to be a doctor. Oh, I don't mean you aren't very +clever--and kind--but somehow I don't believe you were meant to spend +your days going in and out of stuffy cottages and attending to little +village children with measles and whooping-cough!" + +"Don't you?" Anstice leaned against the trunk of the big cedar under +which she sat, and apparently forgot the need for haste. "To tell you +the truth I sometimes wonder to find myself here. When I was younger, +you know, I never intended to go in for general practice. I had dreams, +wild dreams of specializing. I was ambitious, and intended making some +marvellous discovery which should revolutionize medical science...." + +He broke off abruptly, and when he spoke again his voice held the old +bitter note which she had not heard of late. + +"Well, that's all over. I lost ambition when I lost everything else, and +now I suppose I shall go on to the end of the chapter as a general +practitioner, attending old women in stuffy cottages, and children with +measles and whooping-cough!" + +He laughed; but Iris' face was grave. + +"But, Dr. Anstice"--she spoke rather slowly--"isn't it possible for +you to go back to those dreams and ambitions? Suppose you were to +start again--to try once more to make the discovery you speak of. +Mightn't it ..." her voice faltered a moment, but her grey eyes were +steady, "... mightn't that be the way out--for you?" + +There was a sudden silence, broken only by the cooing of a wood-pigeon +in a tall tree close at hand. Then Anstice said thoughtfully: + +"I wonder? Supposing that were the way out, after all?" + +Ha gazed at her with a long and steady gaze which was yet oddly +impersonal, and she met his eyes bravely, though the carnation flush +deepened in her cheeks. Just as she opened her lips to reply a new voice +broke upon their ears. + +"Good afternoon, Iris. Am I too late for a game of tennis?" + +Bruce Cheniston, racquet in hand, had come round the corner of the +shrubbery, and as she heard his voice Iris turned to him swiftly. + +"Oh, good afternoon! You are late, aren't you? We waited for you ever so +long, then as you did not come Dr. Anstice and I played a single." + +"Oh." He looked rather curiously at the other man. "Which was the +victor? You?" + +"Oh, Dr. Anstice always beats me!" Iris laughed. "You and I are more +evenly matched, Bruce--though I confess you generally win." + +"Well, come and have a sett before the light goes." He glanced again at +Anstice. "Unless Anstice is giving you your revenge?" + +"No, I'm off." Anstice straightened himself and held out his hand. +"Good-bye, Miss Wayne. Thanks so much for our game." + +"Good-bye." She smiled at him with a hint of mischief in her eyes. "You +won't forget the fifteenth? I shan't believe any excuses about urgent +cases!" + +He smiled too. + +"I shan't tax your credulity," he said, "and I hope you won't forget +your promise!" + +Their mutual smile, and the hint of an understanding between them which +Anstice's last words, perhaps intentionally, conveyed, brought a frown +to Cheniston's bronzed forehead. + +"Oh, by the way, Anstice"--he spoke very deliberately, looking the other +man full in the face the while--"I want to have a chat with you--on a +matter of some little importance to us both. When are you likely to be +at liberty?" + +The brightness died from Anstice's face; and when he answered his voice +was devoid of any note of youth. + +"I am generally at liberty late in the evening," he said coolly. "If the +matter is important I can see you at nine o clock to-night. You'll come +to my place?" + +"Thanks." Bruce took out his cigarette case and having selected a +cigarette handed the case to the other. "Then, if convenient to you, I +will be round at nine this evening." + +"Very good." Anstice declined a cigarette rather curtly. "If I should be +unavoidably detained elsewhere I will ring you up." + +"Right." Bruce picked up his racquet and turned to Iris as though to say +the subject was closed. "Are you ready, Iris? You like this side best, I +know." + +And, with a sudden premonition of evil at his heart, Anstice turned away +and left them together in the sunny garden. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +"Well, Dr. Anstice, I have come, as you see." + +Cheniston entered the room on the stroke of nine, and Anstice turned +from the window with an oddly reluctant movement. + +The golden day was dying, slowly, in the west. In the clear green sky +one or two silver stars shone steadily, and in the little garden beyond +the house the white moths circled eagerly round the tall yellow evening +primroses which reared arrogant heads among their sleeping brother and +sister flowers. + +Anstice's room was lighted only by a couple of candles, placed on the +writing-table; but neither man desired a brilliant light +to-night--Anstice because he realized that this interview was a fateful +one, Cheniston because, although he had come here with the intention of +making havoc of a man's life, he was not particularly anxious to watch +that man's face during the process. + +"Yes. I see you have come." Anstice pointed to a chair. "Sit down, won't +you? And will you have a drink?" + +"No, thanks." Somehow Anstice's manner made Cheniston feel +uncomfortable; and it was suddenly impossible to accept hospitality of +any kind from his rival. + +"Well?" As Cheniston made no attempt to seat himself, Anstice, too, +stood upright, and the two faced one another with the lighted candles +between them. + +"I wonder----" Cheniston drew out his cigarette case and selected a +cigarette, which he proceeded to light with extreme care. "I wonder if +you have any idea what I have come to say?" + +On his side Anstice took a cigarette from an open box before him, but he +did not light it, yet. + +"I was never very good at guessing conundrums," he said coolly. "Suppose +you tell me, without more ado, why you have--honoured me to-night?" + +His tone, the deliberate pause before he uttered the word, showed +Cheniston plainly that his motive was suspected, and his manner +hardened. + +"I will tell you, as you wish, without more ado," he said. "Only--it is +always a little awkward to introduce a lady's name." + +"Awkward, yes; and sometimes unnecessary." Anstice's eyes, stern beneath +their level brows, met the other man's in a definitely hostile gaze. +"Are you quite sure it is necessary now?" + +"I think so." His tone was every whit as hostile. "The lady to whom I +refer is, as you have doubtless guessed by now, Miss Wayne." + +"I gathered as much from your manner." Anstice spoke coldly. "Well? I +really don't see why Miss Wayne's name should be mentioned between us, +but----" + +"Don't you?" Cheniston's blue eyes gleamed in his brown face. "I think +you do. Look here, Anstice. There is nothing to be gained by hedging. +Let us fight fair and square, gloves off, if you like, and acknowledge +that we both admire and respect Miss Wayne very deeply." + +"I quite agree with that." Anstice's eyes, too, began to glitter. +"And--having said so much, what then?" + +"Well, having cleared the ground so far, suppose we go a little further. +I think--you will correct me if I am wrong in my surmise--I think I am +right in saying that we both cherish a dream in regard to Miss Wayne." + +His unexpected phraseology made Anstice pause before he replied. There +was a touch of pathos, an unlooked-for poetry about the words which +seemed to intimate that whatever his attitude towards the world in +general, Cheniston's regard for Iris Wayne was no light thing; and when +he replied Anstice's voice had lost a little of its hostility. + +"As to your dreams I can say nothing," he said quietly. "For mine--well, +a man's dreams are surely his own." + +"Certainly, when they interfere with no other man's visions." Bruce +hesitated a moment. "But in this case--look here, Anstice, once before +you shattered a dream of mine, broke it into a thousand fragments; and +by so doing took something from my life which can never be replaced. I +think you understand my meaning?" + +White to the lips Anstice answered him: + +"Yes. I do understand. And if ever a man regretted the breaking of a +dream I have regretted it. But----" + +"Wait." Cheniston interrupted him ruthlessly. "Hear me out. It is three +years since that day in India when the woman I loved died by your hand. +Oh"--Anstice had made an involuntary movement--"I am not here to heap +blame upon you. I have since recognized that you could have done nothing +else----" + +"For that, at least, I thank you," said Anstice bitterly. + +"But you can't deny you did me an ill turn on that fatal morning. +And"--Cheniston threw away his cigarette impatiently--"are you prepared +to make amends--now--or not?" + +For a second Anstice's heart seemed to stop beating. Then it throbbed +fiercely on again, for he knew he had guessed Bruce Cheniston's meaning. + +"Make amends?" He spoke slowly to gain time. "Will you explain just what +you mean?" + +"Certainly." Yet for all his ready reply Cheniston hesitated. "I +mean--we're both of us in love with Iris Wayne. Oh"--Anstice had +muttered something--"let's be honest, anyway. As to which--if either--of +us she prefers, I'm as much in the dark as you. But"--his voice was cold +and hard as iron--"having robbed me of one chance of happiness, are you +going to rob me--try to rob me--of another?" + +In the silence which followed his last words a big brown moth, attracted +by the yellow candlelight, blundered into the room, and began to flutter +madly round the unresponsive flame; and in the poignant hush the beating +of his foolish wings sounded loudly, insistently. + +Then Anstice spoke very quietly. + +"You mean I am to stand aside and let you have a fair field with the +lady?" He could not bring himself to mention her name. + +"Yes. That's just what I do mean." Cheniston spoke defiantly--or so it +seemed to the man who listened. + +Again the silence fell, and again the only sound to be heard was the +soft flutter of the brown wings as the moth circled vainly round the +candle flame which would inevitably prove fatal to him by and by. + +"I see." Anstice's face was very pale now. "At least you do me the +honour of looking upon me in the light of a possible rival." + +"I do--and I'll go further," said Cheniston suddenly. "I have an +uncomfortable notion that if you tried you could cut me out. Oh--I'm not +sure"--he regretted the admission as soon as it was made--"after all, +Miss Wayne and I are excellent friends, and upon my soul I sometimes +dare to think I have a chance. But she has a great regard for you, I +know, and if you really set out to win her----" + +"I'm afraid you overrate my capabilities," said Anstice rather +cynically. "Miss Wayne has certainly never given me the slightest reason +to suppose she would be ready to listen to me, did I overstep the bounds +of friendship." + +"Of course not!" Cheniston smiled grimly. "Miss Wayne is not the sort of +girl to give any man encouragement. But as a man of honour, +Anstice"--again his voice cut like steel--"don't you think I have the +prior right to the first innings, so to speak?" + +"You mean I am to stand aside, efface myself, and let you chip in before +me?" His colloquial speech accorded badly with his formal tone. "I quite +see your point of view; and no doubt you think yourself justified in +your demand; but still----" + +"I do think I'm justified, yes," broke in Cheniston coolly. "After all, +if one man has a precious stone, a diamond, let us say, and another man +manages to lose it, well in the unlikely event of the two of them +discovering another stone, which of them has the best right to the new +one?" + +"That's a pretty ingenious simile," said Anstice slowly. "But it's a +false premise all the same. The diamond would naturally have no voice in +the matter of its ownership. But the woman in the case might reasonably +be expected to have the power of choice." + +"But that's just what I'm anxious to avoid." So much in earnest was the +speaker that he did not realize the fatuity of his words till they were +out of his mouth. Then he uttered an impatient exclamation. + +"Oh, hang it all, don't let's stand here arguing. You see the point, +that's enough. I honestly feel that since it was through you that I lost +Hilda Ryder"--even though he was prepared to woo another woman his voice +softened over the name--"it will be doubly hard if you are to come +between me and the only other girl I've ever put in Miss Ryder's place." + +"I see the point, as I said before," returned Anstice deliberately. "But +what I don't see is the justice of it. You've admitted I was not to +blame in doing what I did that day; yet in the same breath in which you +acquit me of the crime you expect me to pay the penalty!" + +For a second this logical argument took Cheniston aback. Then, for his +heart was set on winning Iris Wayne, he condescended to plead. + +"Yes. I admit all that--and I can see I haven't a leg to stand on. +But--morally--or in a spiritual sense so to speak, don't you think +yourself that I have just the shadow of a right to ask you to stand +aside?" + +"Yes." His assent was unflinching, though his lips were white. "You have +that right, and that's why I'm listening to you to-night. But--don't you +think we are both taking a wrong view of the matter? What faintest +grounds have we for supposing Miss Wayne will listen to either of us?" + +"Oh, that's not an insurmountable obstacle." Cheniston saw the victory +was won, and in an instant he was awake to the expediency of clinching +the matter finally. "We don't know, of course, that she will listen +either to me or to you. But for my part I am ready to take my chance. +And"--at the last moment the inherent honesty of the man came to the +surface through all the unscrupulous bargain he was driving--"my chance +is a hundred times better if you withdraw from the contest." + +"I see." With an effort Anstice crushed down the tide of revolt which +swept over his heart. "As you say, I owe you something for that evil +turn I did you, unwittingly, in India. And if you fix this as the price +of my debt I suppose, as an honourable man, there is nothing for me to +do but to pay that price." + +Bruce Cheniston looked away quickly. Somehow he did not care to meet the +other man's eyes at that moment. + +"One thing only I would like to ask of you." Anstice's manner was not +that of a man asking a favour. "If Miss Wayne remains impervious to your +entreaties"--Cheniston coloured angrily, suspecting sarcasm--"will you +be good enough to let me know?" + +"Certainly." Cheniston was suddenly anxious to leave the house, to quit +the presence of this man who spoke so quietly even while his black eyes +flamed in his haggard face. "I will try my luck at once--within the next +week or two. See here, Miss Wayne's birthday dance comes off shortly. +If, after that, I have not won her consent, I will quit the field. Is +that fair?" + +"Quite fair." Suddenly Anstice laughed harshly. "And you think I can +then step forward and try my luck. Why, you fool, can't you see that for +both of us this is the psychological moment--that the man who hangs back +now is lost? I am to wait in the background while you go forward and +seize the golden minute? Well"--his voice had a bitter ring--"I've +agreed, and you've got your way; but for God's sake go before I repent +of the bargain." + +Cheniston, startled by his manner, moved backward suddenly; and a chair +went over with a crash which set the nerves of both men jarring. + +"When you've quite done smashing my furniture"--Anstice's jocularity was +savage--"perhaps you'll be good enough to clear out. I won't pretend I'm +anxious for more of your company to-night!" + +Cheniston picked up the chair, and placed it against the table with +quite meticulous care. + +"I'll go." He suddenly felt as though the man who stood opposite, the +flame from the candles flickering over his face with an odd effect of +light and shadow, had after all come off the best in this horrible +interview. "I--I suppose it's no use saying any more, Anstice. You know, +after all"--in spite of his words he felt an irresistible inclination to +justify himself--"you do owe me something----" + +"Well? Have I denied it?" Now his tone was coldly dangerous. "I have +promised to pay a debt which after all was incurred quite blamelessly; +but if you expect me to enter into further details of the transaction, +you are out in your reckoning." + +"I see." Suddenly the resentment which Cheniston had felt for this man +since their first meeting flamed into active hatred. "Well, I have your +word, and that's enough. As you say, this is a business transaction, and +the less said the better. Good night." + +He turned abruptly away and plunged through the shadowy room towards the +door. As he reached it, Anstice spoke again. + +"Cheniston." There was a note in his voice which no other man of +Anstice's acquaintance had ever heard. "In proposing this bargain, this +payment of a debt, I think you show yourself a hard and a pitiless +creditor. But if, in these circumstances, you fail to win Miss Wayne, I +shall think you are a fool--a damned fool--as well. That's all. Good +night." + +Without, another word Cheniston opened the door and went out, letting it +fall to behind him with a bang. And Anstice, left alone, extinguished +both candles impatiently, as though he could not bear even their feeble +light; and going to the open window stood gazing out over the starlit +garden with eyes which saw nothing of the green peacefulness without. + +And on the table, the big brown moth, scorched to death by his adored +flame in the very moment of his most passionate delight, fluttered his +burnt wings feebly and lay still. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Having given Cheniston his word, Anstice set himself to carry out his +share of the bargain with a thoroughness which did not preclude a very +bitter regret that he had made this fatal promise. + +As he had been of late in the habit of spending a good deal of time in +the society of Iris Wayne, it was only natural that his absence should +cause comment at Greengates; but while Lady Laura openly labelled +Anstice as capricious and inclined to rate his own value too highly, Sir +Richard more charitably supposed that the poor fellow was overworked; +and Iris, after a day or two spent in futile conjecture as to the sudden +cessation of his visits, accepted the fact of Anstice's defection with a +composure which was a little hurt. + +She had thought they were such friends. Once or twice she had even +fancied he was beginning to like her--even to herself Iris would not +admit the possibility of any return of liking on her side; and on the +occasion of their meeting in the wayside cottage, when he had bandaged +her wrist, he had spoken to her in a more confidential, more really +intimate manner than he had ever before displayed. + +In the weeks that followed that sudden leap into intimacy, they had been +such good comrades, had enjoyed so many half-playful, half-serious +conversations, had played so many thrilling tennis matches, that it was +small wonder she had begun to look upon him as one of her most genuine +friends; and his sudden absence hurt her pride, and made her wonder +whether, after all, his friendliness had been merely a pretence. + +Once or twice he met her in the village, but he only saluted her and +hurried on his way; while the invitations which the ever-hospitable Sir +Richard insisted on sending him were refused with excuses so shallow +that even the good-natured host of Greengates refrained from comment. + +The contrast between this ungracious behaviour and Bruce Cheniston's +open delight in her society was strongly marked; and the friendliness of +the younger man brought balm to Iris' sore heart, sore with the first +rebuff of her budding womanhood. When Anstice failed her, refused her +invitations, and appeared indifferent to her smiles, it was undoubtedly +soothing to feel that in Cheniston she had a friend who asked nothing +better than to be in her company at all hours, to do her bidding, and to +pay her that half-laughing, half-earnest homage which was so delicate +and sincere a tribute to her charms. + +Anstice had spoken truly when he said the psychological moment was at +hand. Until the day when his visits to Greengates ceased abruptly Iris +had been inclined, ever so unconsciously, to look upon Anstice with a +slightly deeper, more genuine regard than that which she gave to the +other man; and had Anstice been able to seize the moment, to follow up +the impression he had made upon her, it is possible she, would have +listened to him with favour, and the tiny seed of affection which +undoubtedly lay in her heart would have burst into a lovely and precious +blossom which would have beautified and made fragrant the rest of their +lives. + +But Anstice might not seize the moment; and although Bruce Cheniston had +hitherto taken the second place in Iris' esteem, when once she realized +that Anstice had apparently no intention of renewing their late +friendship she gently put the thought of him out of her heart and turned +for relief to the man who had not failed her. + +So matters stood on the morning of Iris' birthday, a glorious day in +mid-July, when the gardens of Greengates were all ablaze with roses and +sweet-peas, with tall white lilies whose golden hearts flung sweetest +incense on the soft air, with great masses of Canterbury bells and giant +phlox making gorgeous splashes of colour, mauve and red and white and +palest pink, against their background of velvet lawns and dark-green +cedar trees. + +This was the day on which Bruce Cheniston had decided to put his fortune +to the test; and as he looked out of his window at Cherry Orchard and +noted the misty blue haze which foretold a day of real summer heat, he +told himself that on such a day as this there could be no need to fear a +reverse in his present luck. + +He whistled as he dressed, and when the breakfast-bell rang he went +downstairs feeling at peace with himself and all the world. + +"'Morning, Chloe. What a day!" He stooped and kissed his sister as he +passed behind her chair, and she looked faintly amused at the unusual +salutation. + +"Yes. A beautiful day." Her deep voice expressed little pleasure in the +morning's beauty. "Are you going anywhere particular that the fine +weather fills you with such joy?" + +"No--only over to Greengates." He was so accustomed to making this reply +that it came out almost automatically and certainly caused Chloe no +surprise. + +"It's Iris' birthday, isn't it, Bruce?" Cherry flatly refused to endow +her uncle with the title which rightly belonged to him. "What are you +going to give her?" + +"Give her? Well, come round here, and you shall see." + +Nothing loth, Cherry obeyed, and stood beside him attentively while he +opened a small leather case and took out a pair of earrings each +consisting of a tiny, pear-shaped moonstone dangling at the end of a +thin platinum chain. + +"Earrings! But Iris hasn't any holes in her ears, my dear!" Cherry's +consternation was genuine. + +"I know that, you little goose! But these don't want holes--see, you +screw them on like this." + +He took one of her little pink ears in his fingers and screwed on the +earring deftly. + +"There, run and look at yourself," he commanded, and she trotted away to +an oval glass which hung on the wall between the long windows. As she +moved, Cheniston passed the remaining earring to his sister. + +"What do you say, Chloe--is it a suitable present for her ladyship!" + +Chloe took up the little trinket with a rather dubious air. + +"Somehow I don't think I can fancy Iris wearing earrings," she said; and +Bruce, who had a respect for his sister's opinion which she herself did +not suspect, looked rueful. + +"But, Chloe, why not? You always wear them?" + +"Certainly I do." As a matter of fact she did, and the pearls or +sapphires which she affected were as much a part of her personality as +her black hair or her narrow blue eyes. "But then Iris is a different +sort of person. She is younger, more natural, more unsophisticated; and +I'm not quite sure whether these pretty things will suit her charming +face." + +"Oh!" Bruce's own face fell, and for once Chloe felt an impulse of +compassion with another's disappointment. + +"At any rate they are very dainty and girlish," she said, handing back +the case. "I congratulate you on your taste, Bruce. You might very +easily have got more elaborate ones--like some of mine--which would have +been very inappropriate to a girl." + +"Why do you always speak of yourself as though you were a middle-aged +woman, Chloe?" asked her brother with a sudden curiosity. "You seem to +forget you are younger than I--why, you are only twenty-six now." + +"Am I?" Her smile was baffling. "In actual years I believe I am. But in +thought, in feeling, in everything, I am a hundred years older than you, +Bruce." + +Cherry's return to her uncle's side with a request to him to take out +"the dangly thing what tickles my ear" cut short Bruce's reply, and +breakfast proceeded tranquilly, while the sun shone gaily and the roses +for which Cherry Orchard was famous scented the soft, warm air which +floated in through the widely-opened windows. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Anstice was in a quandary on this beautiful summer morning. + +Before he had pledged his word to Cheniston to stand aside and leave the +field open to his rival, he had gladly accepted Iris' invitation to her +birthday dinner and dance; but the thought of the dances she had +promised him had changed from a source of anticipatory delight to one of +the sheerest torment. + +It had not been easy to avoid her. There had been hours in which he had +had to restrain himself by every means in his power from rushing over to +Greengates to implore her pardon for his discourtesy, and to beg her to +receive him back into her most desirable favour. It had cost him an +effort whose magnitude had left him cold and sick to greet her distantly +on the rare occasions of their meeting; and many times he had been ready +to throw his promise to the winds, to repudiate the horrible bargain he +had struck, and to tell her plainly in so many words that he loved her +and wanted her for his wife. + +But he never yielded to the temptation. He had pledged his word, and +somehow the thought that he was paying the price, now, for Hilda Ryder's +untimely death, brought, ever and again, a fleeting sense of comfort as +though the sacrifice of his own chance of happiness was an offering laid +at her feet in expiation of the wrong he had all unwittingly wrought +her. + +But his heart sank at the idea of facing Iris once more, and the thought +of her as she would surely be, the centre and queen of all the evening's +gaiety, was almost unendurable. + +At times he told himself that he could not go to Greengates that night. +He was only human, and the sight of her, dressed, as she would surely +be, in some shimmering airy thing which would enhance all her beauty, +would break down his steadfast resolve. He could not be with her in the +warm summer night, hold her in his arms in the dance, while the music of +the violins throbbed in his ears, the perfume of a thousand roses +intoxicated all his senses, and not cry out his love, implore her to be +kind as she was fair, to readmit him to her friendship, and grant him, +presently, the privileges of a lover.... + +And then, in the next moment he told himself he could not bear to miss +the meeting with her. He must go, must see her once more, see the wide +grey eyes beneath their crown of sunny hair, hear her sweet, kind voice, +touch her hand.... + +And then yet another thought beset him. What guarantee had he that Iris +Wayne would welcome him to her birthday feast? He had thrown her +kindness back into her face, had first accepted and then carelessly +repudiated her friendship; and it was only too probable she had written +him down as a casual and discourteous trifler with whom, in future, she +desired to hold no intercourse. + +The sunshiny day which the rest of the world found so beautiful was one +long torment to Anstice. Restless, undecided, unhappy, he went about his +work with set lips and a haggard face, and those of his patients who had +lately found him improved to a new and attractive sociability revised +their later impressions of him in favour of their first and less +pleasing ones. + +At five o'clock, acting on sudden impulse, he rang up Greengates and +asked for Miss Wayne. + +After a short delay she came, and as he heard her soft voice over the +wire Anstice's face grew grim with controlled emotion. + +"Is that you, Dr. Anstice?" + +"Yes, Miss Wayne. I wanted to say--but first, may I wish you--many happy +returns of your birthday?" + +"Thanks very much." Straining his ears to catch every inflection in her +voice, Anstice thought he detected a note of coldness. "By the way, were +those beautiful sweet-peas from you--the ones that came at twelve +o'clock to-day?" + +"I sent them, yes." So much, at least, he had permitted himself to do. + +"They were lovely--thank you so much for them." Iris spoke with a trifle +more warmth, and for a moment Anstice faltered in his purpose. "You are +coming to dinner presently, aren't you? Seven o'clock, because of the +dance." + +"Miss Wayne, I'm sorry ..." the lie almost choked him, but he hurried +on, "... I can't get over to Greengates in time for dinner. I--I have a +call--into the country--and can't get back before eight or nine." + +"Oh!" For a moment Iris was silent, and to the man at the other end of +the wire it seemed an eternity before she spoke again. Then: "I'm +sorry," said Iris gently. "But you will come to the dance afterwards?" + +For a second Anstice wavered. It would be wiser to refuse, to allege +uncertainty, at least, to leave himself a loophole of escape did he find +it impossible to trust himself sufficiently to go. He opened his lips to +tell her he feared it might be difficult to get away, to prepare her for +his probable absence; and then: + +"Of course I will come to the dance," he said steadily. "I would not +miss it for anything in the world!" + +And he rang off hastily, fearing what he might be tempted to say if the +conversation were allowed to continue another moment. + + * * * * * + +It was nearly eleven o'clock when Anstice entered the hall of Greengates +that night; and by that time dancing was in full swing. + +By an irony of Fate he had been called out when just on the point of +starting, and had obeyed the summons reluctantly enough. + +The fact that his importunate patient was a tiny girl who was gasping +her baby life away in convulsions changed his reluctance into an +energetic desire to save the pretty little creature's life at any cost; +but all his skill was of no avail, and an hour after he entered the +house the child died. + +Even then he could not find it in his heart to hurry away. The baby's +parents, who were young and sociable people, had been, like himself, +invited to the dance at Greengates--had, indeed, been ready to start +when the child was taken ill; and the contrast between the young +mother's frantic grief and her glittering ball-gown and jewels struck +Anstice as an almost unendurable irony. + +When at last he was able to leave the stricken house, having done all in +his power to lighten the horror of the dreary hour, he was in no mood +for gaiety, and for a few moments he meditated sending a message to say +he was, after all, unable to be present at the dance. + +Then the vision of Iris rose again before his eyes, and immediately +everything else faded from his world, and he hastened to Greengates, +arriving just as the clock struck eleven. + +He saw her the moment he entered the room after greeting Sir Richard and +Lady Laura in the hall. She was dancing with Cheniston, and Anstice had +never seen her look more radiant. + +She was wearing the very shimmering white frock in which he had pictured +her, a filmy chiffon thing which set off her youthful beauty to its +highest perfection; and the pearls which lay on her milky throat, the +satin slippers which cased her slender feet, the bunch of lilies-of-the +valley at her breast, were details in so charming a picture that others +besides Anstice found her distractingly pretty to-night. + +And as he noted her happy look, the air of serene content with which she +yielded her slim form to her partner's guidance, the light in the grey +eyes which smiled into Cheniston's face, Anstice's heart gave one bitter +throb and then lay heavy as a stone in his breast. + +He hardly doubted that she was won already; and in Cheniston's proud and +assured bearing he thought he read the story of that winning. + +As he stood against the wall, unconscious of the curious glances +directed towards him, the music ceased, and the dancers came pouring out +of the ballroom to seek the fresher air without. + +Passing him on her partner's arm, Iris suddenly withdrew her hand and +turned to greet the late comer. + +"Dr. Anstice!" It seemed as though her inward happiness must needs find +an outlet, so radiant was the smile with which she greeted him. "You +have really come! I thought you had failed us after all." + +"No--I was sent for, at the last moment." Something in his strained tone +seemed to startle the girl, for her eyes dilated, and with an effort +Anstice spoke more lightly. "I couldn't get away, Miss Wayne, but you +won't visit my misfortunes on my head, will you? You promised me some +dances----" + +"One has had to go." She looked down at her card. "I kept the fifth for +you, but you may have the next if you like. I did not engage myself for +that, thinking"--she paused, then smiled at him frankly--"thinking you +might come after all." + +Scarcely knowing what he did Anstice made some rejoinder; and then +Cheniston, who had turned away for a moment, appeared to observe Anstice +for the first time, and giving him a nod said rather curtly: + +"Evening, Anstice; you've got here then, after all? Well, Iris, shall we +go and get cool after that energetic waltz?" + +They drifted out into the hall; and watching them go Anstice told +himself again that Cheniston had won the day. + + * * * * * + +"Shall we sit out, Dr. Anstice?" He thought Iris looked at him rather +strangely. "I ... I am rather tired--and hot--but still----" + +"Let us sit out by all means, Miss Wayne. Shall we go into the +conservatory? It is quite cool there--and quiet." + +She agreed at once; and two minutes later he found her a seat in a +corner beneath a big overshadowing palm. + +Now that she was beside him he felt his self-control failing him. She +was so pretty in her white gown with the pearls on her neck and the +delicate moonstones dangling in her little ears.... + +"Dr. Anstice"--it was the girl who broke the silence--"do you know you +have treated us very badly of late? You have never been near us for +weeks, and our tennis match has not been decided after all!" + +"I know I've behaved disgracefully"--his voice shook, and she half +regretted her impulsive words--"but--well, I'm not exactly a free agent, +Miss Wayne." + +"No, I suppose a doctor rarely is," she answered thoughtfully; and he +did not correct her misapprehension of his meaning. + +"But I don't want you to think me ungrateful for your kindness." So +much, at least, he might say. "If I have appeared discourteous, please +believe that in my heart I have always fully appreciated your +goodness--and that of your father." + +She said nothing for a moment, looking down at her satin slippers +absently; and he did not attempt to interrupt her reverie. + +Then, with rather startling irrelevance, she said slowly: + +"Dr. Anstice, have you ever been in Egypt? I know you have travelled a +lot, and I thought perhaps----" + +"No." Suddenly at this apparently innocent question a foreboding of evil +fell on Anstice's soul with a crushing weight. "As you say, I have +travelled a good deal; but somehow I have never visited Egypt. Why do +you ask?" + +"Because----" For yet another moment Iris hesitated, as though uncertain +whether or no to proceed. And then, suddenly, she turned to face him +with something in her eyes which Anstice could not fathom. "I asked +because it is possible I may go to live in Egypt some day." + +"I see," said Anstice very quietly. "You mean--Miss Wayne, I won't +pretend to misunderstand you--you mean that Cheniston has asked you to +marry him, and you have said yes." + +Now the rosy colour flooded the girl's face until even her ears were +pink; but her grey eyes met his frankly, and when she spoke her voice +rang happily. + +"You've guessed my secret very quickly," she said, relieved +unconsciously by his calm manner and friendly tone. "Yes. Mr. Cheniston +asked me to marry him an hour ago, and I agreed. And so, as he wants to +be married almost at once, I shall have to prepare myself to live in +Egypt, for a time at least." + +"I don't think you need dread the prospect," he said, and his voice was +creditably steady, though the world seemed to be crashing down in ruins +around him. "Egypt must be a wonderfully fascinating country, and +nowadays one doesn't look upon it as a land of exile. When do you think +you will be going, Miss Wayne?" + +"Well, Bruce has to be back in November," she said, "so if we are really +to be married first"--again the rosy colour flooded her face--"it +doesn't give me much time to get ready." + +"No. I suppose I ought to congratulate you." He was beginning to feel he +could not bear this torture much longer. "At least--it is Cheniston who +is to be congratulated. But you--I can only wish you all possible +happiness. I _do_ wish it--from the bottom of my heart." + +He held out his hand and she put her slender fingers into it. For just +the fraction of a second longer than convention required he held them in +his clasp; then he laid her hand down gently on her filmy chiffon knee. + +"Miss Wayne"--he spoke rather hoarsely--"I wonder if you will think me a +bear if I run away after this dance? I would not have missed these few +minutes with you for anything the world might offer me; but somehow I am +not in tune with gaiety to-night." + +She shot a quick glance at his haggard face; and even in the midst of +her own happy excitement she felt a vivid impulse of sympathy. + +"Dr. Anstice, I'm so sorry." Just for an instant she laid her fingers +gently on his arm; and the light touch made him wince. "You said when +you came in that you had been detained, and you looked so serious I +thought it must have been something dreadful which had kept you. I don't +wonder you find all this"--she waved her small white fan comprehensively +round--"jars upon you--now." + +"Yes," he said, snatching at the opening she gave him, and longing only +for the moment when he might say good-bye and leave her adorable, +maddening presence. "It jars, as you say--not because it isn't all +delightful and inspiring in itself, but because"--suddenly he felt an +inexplicably savage desire to hurt her, as a man in pain may seek to +wound his tenderest nurse--"because not many miles away from here +there's a poor mother weeping, like Rachel, for her child, and refusing +to be comforted." + +She turned pale, and he felt like a murderer as he watched the light die +out of her big grey eyes. + +"A child--the child you went to see--it died?" + +"Yes. She was just a year old--and their only child." + +Now, to his remorse, he saw that she was crying; and instantly the cruel +impulse died out of his heart and a wild desire to comfort her took its +place. + +"Miss Wayne, for God's sake don't cry! I had no right to tell you--it +was brutal, unpardonable of me to cloud your happiness at such a moment +as this. I ... I've no excuse to offer--none, at least, that you could +understand--but it makes me feel the meanest criminal alive to see you +cry!" + +No woman could have withstood the genuine remorse in his tone; and Iris +dabbed her eyes with a little lacy handkerchief and smiled forgiveness +rather tremulously. + +"Don't reproach yourself, Dr. Anstice. I ... I think I'm rather foolish +to-night. And at any rate"--perhaps after all she had divined the +soreness which lay beneath his spoken congratulations--"I'm sure of one +thing--you did your best to comfort the poor mother." + +"Thank you for that, at least," he said; and then, in a different key: +"You won't think me rude if I leave after this?" + +"Of course not." Suddenly Iris rose, and Anstice, surprised, followed +her example. "Dr. Anstice, if you don't mind I'll ask you to take me +back now. I think"--she smiled rather shyly--"I think I must just go and +bathe my eyes. I don't want any one to ask inconvenient questions!" + +Filled with anger against himself Anstice acquiesced at once; and in the +hall they parted, Iris speeding upstairs to her room in search of water +and Eau de Cologne with which to repair the ravages his heartless speech +had caused. + +At the last came a consolatory moment. + +"Dr. Anstice." She held out her hand once more. "You are the only +person--except my father--who knows what has happened to-night. Somehow +I wanted to tell you because"--she coloured faintly, and her eyes +dropped for a second--"because I think you and I are--really--friends in +spite of everything." + +"Thank you, Miss Wayne." His tone was so low she could barely catch the +words. "Believe me, I value your friendship above everything else in the +world." + +He wrung her hand hard; and as she left him with a last fleeting smile +he turned and found himself face to face with Bruce Cheniston. + +At that moment the hall was empty; and before the other man could speak +Anstice said quickly: + +"So you've won the day, Cheniston. Well, congratulations--though God +knows I wish with all my heart that you had failed." + +"Thanks." Cheniston ignored the latter half of the sentence with a smile +Anstice felt to be insolent. "So Miss Wayne told you? I had hoped to be +the first to give you the information." + +"Miss Wayne told me, yes," said Anstice, taking his hat and coat from +the chair where he had thrown them on his late entrance, and turning +towards the door. "And I don't know that there is anything more to be +said between us. Oh, yes, there is, though. One word, Cheniston." The +other man had followed him to the door and now stood on the steps +looking out into the fragrant July night. "I think that in all fairness +you will now agree that I have paid my debt to you; wiped it out to the +uttermost farthing. In future"--turning on the lowest stop he faced the +man who stood above him, and in his face was a look which no other human +being had ever seen there--"in future we are quits, you and I. The debt +is paid in full." + +And before Bruce Cheniston could frame any reply to his words Anstice +turned away and was lost in the soft summer darkness. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +On the day before that fixed for Iris Wayne's wedding a large garden +party was held at Greengates; and fortunately the late September +afternoon was all that could be desired in regard to sunshine and soft +breezes. + +The wedding itself was to be a comparatively quiet affair, only a score +or two of intimate friends and relations being invited to the house +after the ceremony; but Lady Laura had ordained that on the previous day +half the countryside was to be entertained; and although there were some +people who did not altogether approve of the match--for Bruce Cheniston +was, after all, the brother of the notorious Mrs. Carstairs--the +majority were only too ready to follow Sir Richard Wayne's lead and +extend a hand of friendship to Miss Wayne's prospective bridegroom. + +Anstice had received an invitation to both ceremonies, and had accepted, +provisionally, for each; but in his heart he knew that no power on earth +could induce him to see Iris Wayne married to another man; and although +he duly appeared at Greengates while the garden party was in full swing +he only remained there a brief half-hour. + +As he was bidding Lady Laura good-bye, Iris, with whom he had as yet +only exchanged a couple of words, came up to him with a friendly little +smile on her lips. + +"Are you leaving us already, Dr. Anstice? I don't believe you've even +had a cup of tea--or what Daddy calls a peg. Have you?" + +"Yes, thanks, Miss Wayne." He lied so convincingly that the girl +believed him. "I'm just off again--you must excuse me, but you know my +time is not my own." + +"No." He thought she looked a little pale this afternoon. "I quite +understand, and I think it is very nice of you to come at all. You are +coming to-morrow?" + +"I hope so." Again he lied, and something in the frank eyes which were +raised to his made him ashamed of his mendacity. "Of course--it's +possible I may be prevented, but in any case, Miss Wayne, please +remember my best wishes will be yours all day." + +As though reminded of something she spoke impulsively. + +"Dr. Anstice, I've never thanked you--except in a note--for your lovely +present. It is really quite the most uncommon one I have had, and I +shall value it immensely." + +"I am glad you like it," he said. He had sent her a pair of ancient +Chinese vases which his father had received many years ago from the +grateful wife of a mandarin to whom he had once rendered a service. "I +hardly knew what to send you, and then I remembered you once said you +liked curios." + +"I do--and these are so lovely." As she stood talking to him in the +sunlight Anstice told himself that this was really his farewell to the +girl he had known and loved, and his eyes could hardly leave her +adorable face. The next time they met--if Fate ordained that they should +meet again--she would be Bruce Cheniston's wife; and believing as he did +that this would be their last meeting as man and maid, Anstice took the +hand she held out to him with a very sore heart. + +"Good-bye, Miss Wayne." Just for a moment he hesitated, feeling that he +could not bear to let her go like this; and the girl, puzzled by his +manner, waited rather uneasily, her hand in his. Then he gave her +fingers a last clasp, wringing them unconsciously hard, and let them go. + +"Good-bye, Dr. Anstice." Standing as she did on the threshold of a new +life, face to face with a mystery she dreaded, yet was prepared, to +fathom, perhaps Iris' perceptions were a little quickened. All at once +she saw that this man looked upon her with different eyes from the other +men she knew; and the memory of her strange fancy earlier in the summer +gave her the key suddenly to his rather curious manner of bidding her +farewell. + +With a foolish, but purely womanly, impulse of compassion, she spoke +again, laying her hand for a second on his arm with a friendliness which +no man could have misunderstood. + +"No, Dr. Anstice. Not good-bye. We shall meet again to-morrow, at any +rate; so let us just say--_au revoir!_" + +The kind little hand, the friendly words, almost broke down Anstice's +self-control. + +With a huge effort he kept his voice steady; but his face was grey as he +answered her. + +"If you wish, Miss Wayne--from the bottom of my heart let it +be--only--_au revoir!_" + + * * * * * + +And Fate, who foresaw in what wise their next meeting should take place, +probably chuckled to herself, like the malignant lady she can be, at +this parting between the two who might have been lovers but for a +miscalculated shot in the days gone by. + + * * * * * + +When Anstice had finished his day's work it was barely seven o'clock. +Fortunately for him he had no very serious cases on his hands just now, +and there was no need, save in the event of an urgent call, for him to +go out again when he had eaten his solitary dinner. + +He was thankful for the respite, for the strain of the last few weeks, +the weeks of Iris' engagement, had been severe; and mind and body were +alike overtasked and weary. For several days he had suffered from a +severe neuralgic headache, and to-night the torture in head and eyes +threatened to overwhelm him. + +For three or four nights he had hardly slept; and on more than one +occasion he had thought, with a queer, detached interest, of the relief +which morphia might bring to his tormented nerves; but with the thought +came another--the picture of Iris Wayne who had bidden him remember that +this was not the way out of the tragic muddle into which his life had +been plunged by his own action. + +She had believed him when he told her he would not again deliver himself +into bondage to the fatal drug, and although he had not given her his +promise--foreseeing even then the possibility of this black hour--he had +meant, at the moment, to turn his back for ever on the seductive thing +which whispers such sweet, such deliriously fatal promises to the man in +the clutch of any agony he does not know how to bear. + +So, although on the last two or three occasions he had not won the +victory without a struggle, Anstice had managed to win through without +lowering his flag; but to-night he began to wonder whether after all it +were worth while waging the unequal war any longer. + +He had parted from Iris Wayne, as he thought, for ever. As the wife of +Bruce Cheniston he must henceforward regard her; and although he was no +saint, to covet his neighbour's wife was not compatible with Anstice's +code of decency. + +He might love her still--at this moment he thought he knew that he would +love her always--but for all practical purposes their friendship, with +all its privileges and its obligations, was at an end. And this being +so, why should he hesitate to gain, if he might, relief from this agony +of mind and body by the help of the drug he had hitherto forsworn? + +It is always hard on a man when to physical anguish is added agony of +mind, since in that dual partnership of pain no help may be rendered +either by its complementary part; and it does not need a physician to +know that such help given by the one to the other is frequently a ruling +factor in the recovery of the sick body or mind. And to-night Anstice +was enduring a physical and mental suffering which taxed mind and body +to their utmost limits, and absolutely precluded the possibility of any +helpful reaction one upon the other. + +His eyeballs felt as though they were being pierced by red-hot needles; +while the stabbing pain in his head increased every moment. Had he +witnessed such suffering in another he would instantly have set about +alleviating it so far as his skill might allow; but he told himself that +there was only one effectual remedy for him and that was forbidden him +by his implied promise to Iris Wayne. And so he sat on in a corner of +the couch in his dim and shadowy room, and endured the excruciating pain +as best he might. + +The house was very quiet, and suddenly he remembered that the servants +were out, witnessing the fireworks which Sir Richard had provided in the +park of Greengates for the entertainment of the village on the eve of +his daughter's wedding. + +They had asked permission to go, and he had granted it readily enough; +and now he was grateful for the peace and tranquillity which their +absence engendered in the dark and quiet house. + +Dimmer and more gloomy grew the room in which he sat--his +consulting-room, chosen to-night for its long window open to the garden +without. More and more thickly clustered the shadows round him as he sat +half-sunk in a corner of the big leather couch. Once an owl hooted in +the tall trees outside the house, and the strange, melancholy note +seemed a fit accompaniment to the eerie stillness of the night. + +Worse and ever more hard to bear grew the fierce throbbing in his head +and eyes, but his wretchedness of mind ran a good race with his bodily +suffering; and had he been asked, suddenly, the nature of the pain which +tormented him he would have found it hard to answer immediately. + +Only as the quiet hours wore on he began to feel that the limit of his +endurance was almost reached. He told himself that even Iris herself +would not willingly sanction such suffering as his had now become. In +all the world he desired only one boon--oblivion, unconsciousness, rest +from this state of being which was surely unendurable; and as a more +exquisitely painful throb of anguish shot through his head he plunged +his hand into his breast-pocket in search of a certain little case which +was generally to be found there during his day's round. + +But he remembered, with a sudden keen disappointment, that he had +changed his coat on returning home to dinner, and the means of +alleviation which he sought were not at hand. + +He half rose, intending to go in search of the thing he wanted; but the +effort of moving was too much, and he sank back again with an irritable +groan and prepared to endure still more of this misery. + +Next he thought he would try the effect of a cigarette, but the matches +were not on the table before him. That obstacle, however, need not be +insurmountable, for in a drawer at his elbow he kept a supply, and +moving cautiously, for every movement set his nerves jangling, he turned +on the couch and opened the drawer to seek the matches which should be +there. + +He found them immediately, and was in the act of taking one from the box +when his eye fell on a small package which somehow roused a strange +feeling of interest in his pain-shrouded mind. + +It seemed familiar--at least he thought he remembered handling it +before, and by a queer twist of memory he thought of Mrs. Carstairs as +he took up the mysterious little parcel and turned it about in his +hands. + +Yet his throbbing brain would not allow him to feel certain what was +really inside the packet, and with a sudden access of nervous irritation +he broke the seal which held its contents a mystery, and tore off the +enwrapping papers. + +And as he realized what it was that the paper had hidden he uttered an +exclamation in which surprise and dismay and relief were oddly blended. + +In his hand he held a box containing a hypodermic syringe and a supply +of morphia, and now he remembered how Mrs. Carstairs had told him of her +purchase of the same, and her subsequent decision to let the insidious +thing alone. She had given him the packet without apparent reluctance, +and as his own words, "I shan't be tempted to steal yours for my private +use," came flashing back to his memory he smiled, rather cynically, to +himself. + +"If I believed in signs and omens I should take this as an unmistakable +invitation to me to hesitate no longer." He fingered the syringe +thoughtfully. "And upon my soul I don't see why I shouldn't accept it as +a sign. In any case"--all the pent-up bitterness of his soul found vent +in the words--"in future what I do can have no interest for Iris +Cheniston!" + +As if the sound of the name, premature as it was, had put the finishing +touch to his reckless cynicism, he hesitated no longer. + +With an almost savage gesture he struck a match and lighted a candle on +his writing-table; and as the little yellow flame sprang up, and strove, +vainly, to enlighten the encompassing gloom, he set about his +preparations with a sudden energy in striking contrast with his previous +lethargy. + +When all was ready there came a last second of hesitation. With the +syringe in his hand, his arm bared, he paused, and for a last poignant +moment Iris' face rose before him in the flickering light. But now her +eyes had no power to move him from his purpose. Rather they maddened him +with their steadfast radiance, and with a muttered oath he looked aside +from that appealing vision and turned the key, recklessly, in the door +which led to the Paradise of Fools. + + * * * * * + +Nearly an hour later the telephone bell rang, sharply, insistently in +the hall. It went on ringing, again and again, a curiously vital sound +in the quiet house; but Anstice did not hear it, and at length the +ringing ceased. + +It was nearly half an hour later when another bell rang, this time the +bell of the front door; but again no answer came to the imperative +summons. And now the bell rang on, so continuously, so persistently, +that at last its sound penetrated the dulled hearing of the man who +huddled in a corner of the big couch, mind and body alike dazed and +incapable of making any effort to understand the meaning of this oddly +insistent noise. + +He was only conscious of a desire for it to cease; of a longing, not +sufficiently vivid to be acute, but the strongest emotion of which he +was at the moment capable, for a return to the silence which had +hitherto prevailed; and although the noise disturbed and angered him it +never occurred to him that to answer the summons would be the best way +of ending the irritating sound. + +So that bell too went unanswered; and in due course it also ceased to +ring. + +But that was not to be the end. + +Dimly he heard the sound of voices, of footsteps in the hall, of the +striking of a match and the hissing of the gas. Then there was a +confused noise which was like and yet unlike a rapping on the panels of +the door of the room in which he sat; but he felt no inclination +whatever to move or make any response; and even when at length the door +itself opened, slowly and tentatively, he merely looked up with languid +curiosity to see what these phenomena might imply. + + * * * * * + +And in the doorway stood Iris Wayne, her face very pale, one hand +holding a flimsy scarf about her, with Bruce Cheniston by her side. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Chloe Carstairs had not been among the guests at Greengates that +afternoon. In vain had Sir Richard and Lady Laura invited her, in vain +had Iris added her entreaties. On this point Chloe was adamant, and +although her brother argued with her for an hour or more on the +advisability of making her reappearance in Littlefield society under the +aegis of the Waynes, she merely shook her head with an inscrutable +smile. + +"If I cared to re-enter Littlefield society," she said calmly, "I should +have done so long ago. But I am really so indifferent to those people +that I have no desire to meet them, even as a guest at Greengates." + +"I didn't suppose you wanted to meet them--for your own sake," retorted +her brother, "for a duller and more stupid set of people were never +born; but as Iris is to be your sister-in-law I think you might stretch +a point and go with me to Greengates this afternoon." + +But Chloe shook her head. + +"No, Bruce. I am sorry to disappoint you, but it cannot be done. As you +know, I am fond of Iris"--knowing his sister Bruce was quite satisfied +with this moderate expression of her affection--"but I won't go to +Greengates to-day, nor to the wedding to-morrow. If you like to bring +Iris down to say good-bye this evening when all the people are gone I +shall like to see her." + +"All right." Bruce gave up the contest. "I'm staying on--quietly--to +dinner; but I'll bring her down for half an hour afterwards." + +"Very well." Chloe rose from the breakfast-table as she spoke, and +sauntered to the window, from whence she looked over the pretty +garden with appreciative eyes. "It is lucky the weather is so +beautiful--Greengates will look at its best on a day like this." + +And Bruce agreed heartily as he stepped on to the lawn to enjoy his +after-breakfast pipe. + + * * * * * + +True to his promise Bruce motored his _fiancée_ over to Cherry Orchard +in the gloaming of the September evening, after a somewhat protracted +argument with Lady Laura, whose sense of propriety was, so she averred, +outraged by the project. + +Sir Richard, however, to whom the loss of his only daughter was a deep +though hidden grief, gave his consent readily enough when he saw that +Iris really wished to bid her friend good-bye; and making Bruce promise +to bring her back in good time he himself went to the door to pack them +safely into the motor. + +"Take care of her, Bruce--she is very precious to me!" He laid his hand +on the young man's arm, and his voice held an appeal which Bruce +involuntarily answered. + +"Trust me, sir!" There was a note of rather unusual feeling in his tone. +"She can't be more precious to you than she is to me!" + +And with the words he got his car in motion and glided away down the +dusky, scented avenue beneath the tall trees which had not, as yet, put +off their summer tints for their autumn livery of scarlet and gold. + +Somehow they did not talk much as they sped on through the cool, +perfumed night. Both, indeed, felt a sense of shyness in each other's +company on this last evening; and it was with something like relief that +they realized they were at Cherry Orchard in less time than they +generally allowed for the little journey. + +The hall door, as usual, stood hospitably open; but there was no sign of +Chloe, waiting for them with her gracious welcome; and as they crossed +the threshold both felt instinctively that something was wrong. + +A moment later their suspicions were confirmed, for Hagyard, the +manservant, who adored both his mistress and her small daughter, came +forward to meet them with an air of relief which did not conceal the +anxiety in his whole bearing. + +"Mr. Cheniston--sir--there's been an accident--Miss Cherry--she's +burnt----" + +"Burnt!" Iris and Bruce echoed the word simultaneously; and the man +hurried on. + +"Yes, sir, yes, miss--Miss Cherry got playing with matches--Tochatti +left her alone for a moment when she did not ought to have done"--in his +distress his usual correctness of speech and deportment fell away from +Hagyard, leaving him a mere human man--"and Miss Cherry's dress--a +little flimsy bit of muslin it was, caught fire, and before it was put +out she'd got burned----" + +"Where is Mrs. Carstairs?" + +"Upstairs with Miss Cherry, sir. We've been ringing up the doctor--but +we can't get no answer----" + +Bruce cut him short without ceremony. + +"Come, Iris, let's see what's to be done. We can go ourselves and fetch +the doctor, anyway." + +Together they ran up the broad staircase, and Bruce led the way to +Cherry's little room, where, as he guessed, the child was lying. + +As they entered Chloe Carstairs looked round; and her eyes appeared +almost black, so dilated were the pupils. + +"Bruce!" Her deep voice held a note of relief. "You have come at +last--now perhaps we can do something for the child." + +"Is she badly burnt?" Iris approached softly and stood looking down at +the moaning little figure in the bed. + +"Yes." Chloe's manner was impressive by reason of its very quietness. +"She is--very badly burnt, and until the doctor comes we can do so +little...." + +"You have done _something_ for her?" + +"Oh, yes--Tochatti and I have done all we can, but"--for a second +Chloe's face quivered--"we can't do anything more, and I'm afraid if +something isn't done soon----" + +The child on the bed gave a sudden convulsive cry, and Chloe's white +face grew still paler. + +"You see--she's in horrible pain, and--oh, why doesn't the doctor come? +We've rung up again and again, and they've never answered!" + +"Shall we go and fetch him, Chloe? The car's here, and we'll bring him +back in no time!" He turned to Iris. "You'll come?" + +She hesitated. + +"Won't you go--and I'll stay here?" + +Chloe looked up at that. + +"No, Iris. I don't want you to stay--yet. Go with Bruce, and when you +come back you shall stay--if you will." + +"Very well." Iris deemed it best to do as she was requested. "We will +go--immediately--we shall soon be back." + +They ran downstairs together as swiftly as they had run up a few minutes +earlier; and in an incredibly short space of time the car was flying +through the sweet night air once more. + +Arriving at the Gables they could win no response to their ringing; but +it was imperative they should gain an entrance; and so it came about +that the first time Iris entered Anstice's house she entered it +unheralded, and unwelcomed by any friendly greeting. + +So, too, it came about that when Anstice at last awoke to the fact that +there were other human beings in the house beside himself he realized, +with a pang of consternation and amazement sufficiently sharp to pierce +even through the fog which clouded his spirit, that one of his uninvited +guests was the girl from whom, a few short hours earlier, he had parted, +as he thought, for ever. + +He half rose from the couch on which he crouched, and stared at the +advancing figures with haunted eyes. + +"I ... I ..." His voice, husky, uncertain, brought both his visitors to +a halt; and for a wild moment he fancied that after all they were no +real beings, only more than usually vivid shadows, projected visions +from the whirling phantasmagoria of his brain. The light behind them, +streaming in through the open door, confused him, made him feel as +though this were all a trick of the nerves, a kind of chaotic nightmare; +and with a muttered curse at his own folly in imagining for one moment +that Iris Wayne herself stood before him, he fell back on the couch and +closed his aching eyes wearily. + +"Anstice--I say, you're wanted--badly--at Cherry Orchard." Surely that +was Bruce Cheniston's voice which beat upon his ears until it reached +his inner sense. Yet what was that he was saying ... something about an +accident ... to Cherry ... but the time of cherries was over ... surely +now the summer was dead ... he was cold, bitterly cold, the fire must be +out, his teeth were chattering ... there was a mist before his eyes.... + +"Dr. Anstice, is anything the matter? Are you ill?" + +That voice belonged to no one on earth but Iris Wayne, yet that +insubstantial grey shadow which seemed to speak was only another ghost, +a figment of his overwrought brain. He wished--how he wished--that these +ghosts would leave him, would return to the haunted place whence they +came and allow him to sink once more into the blessed oblivion from +which they called him with their thin, far-away voices.... + +"It's no use, Iris!" Cheniston spoke abruptly, puzzled by the other +man's strange behaviour, to which as yet he could assign no cause. "The +man's asleep--or dazed--or--or"--suddenly a suspicion swept into his +brain--"or perhaps there's a less creditable cause for this +extraordinary behaviour." + +"What do you mean, Bruce?" Iris' grey eyes dilated and her face +blanched. "Is he--ill--or----" + +"I am not--ill, Miss Wayne." Somehow he had caught her words, her dear +voice had penetrated through the fog which enveloped his senses. "Don't, +please, be afraid.... I ... I am only ..." + +"Anyway you're not fit to speak to a lady," cut in Cheniston incisively. +"We came to fetch you to Cherry Orchard; there's been on accident, my +little niece is badly hurt and Mrs. Carstairs wanted you--but it's +evident you're not in a fit state to come...." + +Once more the fog lifted for a moment; and although he felt everything +to be whirling round him Anstice rose unsteadily to his feet and faced +his accuser. + +Through the open door the light streamed on to his haggard face; and as +she saw the ravages which suffering had wrought in him Iris uttered an +exclamation. + +"Don't be afraid, Miss Wayne." He could only, it seemed, repeat himself. +"I ... I didn't expect any one coming here." He spoke slowly, a pause +between each word. "I ... if there's anything--I can do----" + +"There isn't--unless you can pull yourself together sufficiently to come +to Cherry Orchard," said Cheniston coldly. "And judging from your +appearance you can't do that." + +The contempt in his voice stung Anstice momentarily into self-defence. + +"What are you implying?" He spoke a little more clearly now, "I ... I +believe after all I'm ill--but----" + +At that moment Bruce's eyes, roving here and there, caught sight of a +small decanter of brandy which stood on the table at his elbow. As a +matter of fact it had been brought there for a patient whose nerves had +failed him, earlier in the day, on hearing what practically amounted to +a sentence of death; but to Cheniston the innocent object appeared as +the confirmation of his suspicions, and his lip curled. + +"Come along, Iris." His disdain was cruel. "We must go and find some one +else--some one who hasn't fuddled his wits like our friend here." + +Iris' eyes, following his, had seen the brandy; and in a flash of +insight she knew what he meant. But before she could speak, could utter +the denial which trembled on her lips, Anstice himself interposed. + +"You are mistaken, Cheniston." He still spoke haltingly, but his eyes +looked less dim than they had done a moment ago. "That"--he pointed to +the decanter--"is not my particular vice. I confess I am not myself +to-night; and I fear I'm not capable of attending any one for the +present; but it is not brandy which is responsible, I assure you of +that." + +He stopped, feeling suddenly that the effort of speech was too much for +him. A terrible dizziness was overwhelming him ... he had only one +desire on earth, that Iris Wayne would leave him, that he might sink +down on to the couch again, and let the fathomless sea which was surging +round him drown his soul and senses in its rolling flood.... + +Yet by a great effort he stood upright, steadying himself by the edge of +the table; and through all his mental and physical misery he saw Iris' +grey eyes fixed upon his face with a great pity in their depths. + +"Dr. Anstice"--regardless of Bruce's presence she took up the hypodermic +syringe which lay on the table, gleaming in a strong beam of light which +streamed through the open door--"you have been trying _this_ way +out--again?" + +Her voice, which held no condemnation, only an overwhelming compassion, +drove back for a moment those cruel waves which surged around him; and +when he answered her his voice was almost steady. + +"Yes, Miss Wayne. I ... I could find no other way, and so--I took this +one." + +Iris placed the syringe down gently on the table, and her eyes were full +of tears. + +"Dr. Anstice, I'm sorry," she said in a low tone; and the pity in her +voice nearly broke his heart. + +"Miss Wayne--I----" + +What he would have said she never knew; for Bruce Cheniston broke in +angrily, annoyed by a scene to which he held no key. + +"Look here, Iris, we mustn't waste time. Cherry's badly hurt, and since +Dr. Anstice can't come someone else must be found. Come along, we'll be +off and find another doctor--one who can be relied upon." + +The mists were closing in on Anstice once more, the hungry sea which +billowed round him threatened to engulf him body and soul. Yet he +thought he heard Iris striving to silence Cheniston's cruel words, he +could have sworn he saw her eyes, big with tears, shining through the +mist which kept him from her; and with a mental effort which turned him +cold he spoke once more to her before she left him. + +"Miss Wayne ... please don't condemn me altogether ... I did not give in +at once ... but this seemed--before God, I thought it was the only way +out--to-night...." + +And then the miracle happened. Regardless of the man who stood fuming by +her side, Iris laid her soft hand on Anstice's arm and spoke one last +gentle word. + +"Dr. Anstice, I believe you--and good-bye! But--oh, do, do remember--for +my sake let me ask you to remember that this is _not_ the true way out!" + +And then, as Cheniston took her arm impatiently to lead her away, she +smiled through the tears which threatened to blind her, and went out +from his presence without one reproachful word. + + * * * * * + +When she had gone he stood gazing after her for a long moment, and the +look in his face would have broken the heart of a woman who had loved +him. Then, with a despairing feeling that now nothing mattered in all +the world, he sank down again on the couch and let the flood overwhelm +him as it would. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +As the clocks were striking ten on the following morning, the morning of +Iris Wayne's wedding day, Anstice came slowly down the garden to where +his car waited by the gate. + +It was a glorious September morning, the whole world bathed in a flood +of golden sunshine, and the soft, warm air was heavy with the scent of +sweet-peas, of stocks, of the hundred and one fragrant flowers which +deck the late summer days. Away over the fields hung an enchanting blue +haze which promised yet greater heat when it too should have dissolved +before the mellow rays of the sun; and if there be any truth in the old +saw that happy is the portion of the bride on whom the sun shall shine, +then truly the lot of Iris Wayne should be a happy one. + +But in Anstice's face there was no reflected sunshine on this auspicious +morning. Rather did he look incredibly haggard and worn, and his +colourless lips and purple-shadowed eyes were in strangest contrast to +the smiling face of Nature. + +It was only by a very strong effort of will that Anstice had driven +himself forth to embark upon his day's work. The horrible night through +which he had passed had left traces on both body and soul; and the +thought of that which was to happen to-day, the thought of the ceremony +in the little flower-decked church by which the girl he adored would be +given as wife to another man was nothing short of torture to this man +who loved her. + +He would have given half he possessed to be able to blot out this day +from his calendar--to pass the whole of it in a state of oblivion, of +forgetfulness, to cheat life of its fiercest suffering for a few hours +at least; but Iris herself blocked the way to that last indulgence. She +had bidden him remember--for her sake--that the way he had taken was not +in truth the way out; and although every nerve in his body cried out for +relief, nothing in the world could have persuaded him to mar Iris' +wedding-day by an act whose commission would have grieved her had she +known of it. + +And since to sit at home, brooding over the dimly-remembered events of +the preceding night, would be fatal, there was nothing for it but to go +out and strive to forget his own mental agony in an attempt to alleviate +the physical suffering of those who trusted him to relieve their bodily +woes at least. + +He was about to enter his car when he heard the hoot of a motor-horn +behind him; and turning round, one foot on the step, saw his friendly +rival, Dr. Willows, driving up to intercept him. + +"Hallo, Anstice, glad you're not out. I wanted to see you." + +Anstice moved forward to meet him, but Dr. Willows, an agile little man +of middle age, hopped out of his car, and taking Anstice's arm moved +with him out of ear-shot of the waiting chauffeur. + +"Well?" Anstice's voice was not inviting. + +"It's about that affair at Cherry Orchard." Involuntarily Anstice's arm +stiffened, and the other man dropped it as he went on speaking. "I was +called in last night, and hearing you were ill--by the way, are you +better now?" He broke off abruptly and peered into Anstice's face with +disconcerting keenness. + +"Quite, thanks. It was only a temporary indisposition," returned Anstice +coldly; and Dr. Willows relaxed his gaze. + +"Glad to hear it--though you look pretty seedy this morning. You know +you really work too hard, Anstice. I assure you your predecessor didn't +take half the trouble with his patients that you do----" + +"You'll excuse me reminding you that I have not begun my round yet." +Anstice interrupted him impatiently. "You were saying you were called in +to Cherry Orchard----" + +"Yes. The little girl was badly burnt--owing to some carelessness on the +part of the servants--and since you were not available----" + +"Who told you I was not available?" His tone was grim. + +"Why, Miss Wayne, of course. You know she and Mr. Cheniston came on to +see me after finding you weren't able to go owing to being seedy +yourself"--even Anstice's sore spirit could not doubt the little man's +absolute ignorance of the nature of his supposed illness--"and they +asked me to go in your place. So as it was an urgent case of course I +did not hesitate to go." + +"Of course not." Anstice strove to speak naturally. "Well, you went?" + +"Yes, and treated the child. As you know, she is only a kiddie, and the +shock has been as bad as the actual burns, though they are severe +enough." + +"Have you been there to-day?" + +"No--that's what I came to see you about. I stayed pretty late last +night, and left the child asleep; but now, of course, you will take over +the case. Mrs. Carstairs understood I was only filling your place, you +know." + +"Do you think"--Anstice hesitated oddly, and Dr. Willows told himself +the man looked shockingly ill--"do you think Mrs. Carstairs would prefer +you to continue the case?" + +"Good Lord, no!" Dr. Willows stared. "Why, what bee have you got in your +bonnet now? I told you Mrs. Carstairs knew I was only representing you +because you were ill, and couldn't come, and I told her I would run over +first thing this morning and see if you were able to take on the case +yourself." + +"What did Mrs. Carstairs say to that?" + +"She agreed, of course. And if I were you"--Dr. Willows felt vaguely +uncomfortable as he stood there in the morning sunshine--"I'd go round +pretty soon." He looked at his watch ostentatiously. "By Jove, it's +after ten--I must get on. Then you'll go round to Cherry Orchard this +morning?" + +"Yes." Anstice accepted the inevitable. "I'll go round almost +immediately. Thanks very much for coming, Willows. I ... I'm grateful to +you." + +"Oh, that's all right!" Dr. Willows, relieved by the change in Anstice's +manner, waved his hand airily and returned to his car; and as soon as he +was out of sight Anstice entered his own motor and turned in the +direction of Cherry Orchard. + +After all, he said to himself as the car glided swiftly over the hard +white road, there was no reason why Mrs. Carstairs should find anything +suspicious in his inability to visit Cherry Orchard on the previous +evening. Doctors were only human after all--prone to the same ills to +which other men are subject; and although the exigencies of one of the +most exacting professions in the world would seem to inspire a +corresponding endurance in its members, there are moments in which even +the physician must pause in his ministrations to the world, in order, as +it were, to tune up his own bodily frame to meet the demands upon it. + +Of course it was possible that Cheniston had divulged to his sister the +true reason of Anstice's non-arrival; but Anstice did not think it +likely; for although there was, and always must be, a strong antagonism +between the two men, Cheniston was an honourable man; and the secret +upon which he had stumbled was one which a man of honour would +instinctively keep to himself. + +That his secret was safe with Iris, Anstice knew beyond any question; +and as his car swept up the drive to the jasmine-covered door of Cherry +Orchard he told himself that it was only his conscience which made him +feel as though his absence on the previous evening must have looked odd, +unusual, even--he could not help the word--suspicious. + +The door was opened to him by Hagyard, and there was no doubting the +sincerity of his welcome. + +"Good morning, sir. I was looking out for you.... Miss Cherry's +awakened, they say, and is in a sad state." + +His unusual loquacity was a proof of his mental disturbance, and Anstice +spoke sharply. + +"Where is she? Shall I go upstairs?" + +"If you please, sir. Here is Tochatti come for you, sir." And he stood +aside to allow the woman to approach. + +"Will you come this way, signor?" Her foreign accent was more marked +than usual; and looking at her worn and sallow countenance Anstice +guessed she had not slept. + +He followed her without asking any questions, and in another moment was +in Cherry's bedroom, the little white and pink room whose wall papers +and chintzes were stamped with the life-like bunches of cherries on +which he had once remarked admiringly, to the little owner's +gratification. + +In the small white bed lay Cherry, her head swathed in bandages, one +little arm bandaged likewise; and beside her knelt Chloe Carstairs, her +face like marble, her silky black hair dishevelled on her brow, as +though she, too, had passed a sleepless night. Cherry's brown eyes were +widely opened with an expression of half-wondering pain in their usually +limpid depths, and from time to time she uttered little moans which +sounded doubly piteous coming from so self-controlled a child as she. + +"Dr. Anstice--at last!" Chloe rose swiftly from her knees and came to +meet him with both hands outstretched. "I thought you were never +coming--that Dr. Willows had forgotten to tell you----" + +"I'm sorry, Mrs. Carstairs." He knew at once, with a relief which would +not be repressed, that Cheniston had kept his miserable secret. "I only +saw Dr. Willows half an hour ago, and came at once. How is Cherry this +morning--did she have any sleep?" + +"Yes, thank God." Listening to her low voice, Anstice wondered why he +had ever thought her lacking in affection for her child. "Dr. Willows +was most kind--he stayed half the night with us and Cherry slept for +some hours after he left. But now she is awake, as you see, and I'm +afraid she is suffering horribly." + +"Let me see what I can do for her, will you?" + +He approached the bed and sat down quietly by it, while Cherry ceased +for a second to moan, and her brown eyes besought him, more eloquently +than speech, to give her relief from this quite unusual state of +affairs. At first he was not certain that the child recognized him; but +presently her uninjured hand came gropingly towards him; and as he took +the tiny fingers in his own Anstice felt a sudden revival of the +energies which had seemed so dead, so burnt-out within him on this +beautiful September morning. + +"Well, Cherry, this is bad luck, isn't it?" He spoke very gently, +studying her little face the while. "But don't lose heart--this pain +won't last long, it will soon run away. Is it _very_ bad?" + +"It's _rather_ bad, thank you, my dear." Even in the midst of her +tribulation Cherry strove heroically for her own gracious tone, and the +familiar term of endearment sounded strangely pathetic to-day. "But +you'll send it quite 'way, won't you?" + +"Yes. I send away all pains," returned Anstice, lying nobly. "But first +of all you must let me see just what sort of pain this one is, and then +I shall know how to get rid of it. You don't mind me touching you, do +you?" + +"N-not much, my dear." Cherry's lips quivered, and Chloe Carstairs +turned away as though unable to bear the sight of her little daughter's +suffering any longer. + +Quickly and tenderly Anstice made his examination without disturbing +more of the dressings than was absolutely necessary; and by dint of +questioning Mrs. Carstairs found that the child's brow had been badly +scorched where her brown curls had caught fire, and that one little arm +had suffered a grievous burn. These were the only outward signs of the +accident, but the child had undergone a severe shock; and Anstice felt a +sudden misgiving as he looked at the pinched little face, and noted the +renewal of the pitiful moans which even Cherry's fortitude could not +altogether repress. + +The woman Tochatti had hovered in the background while he bent over the +bed; and now, at a sign from him, she came forward silently. + +"Just look after the child a moment or two, will you?" he said. "Mrs. +Carstairs, may I have a word with you? Oh, don't be alarmed--I only want +to hear a little more about the affair." + +Tochatti shot a quick look at him from her beady black eyes; and Anstice +was momentarily puzzled by her curious expression. She looked almost as +though she resented his presence--and yet she should have welcomed him, +seeing that he was there to do his best for the child she adored. But as +she moved to the side of the bed, and took Cherry's unhurt hand in her +own brown fingers with a touch of almost maternal tenderness, he told +himself impatiently that he was fanciful; and turned to Mrs. Carstairs +with a resolute movement. + +"Will you come into my room, Dr. Anstice?" Chloe's spacious bedroom led +out of her little daughter's pink and white nest; and as Anstice +followed her she pulled the door to with a nervous action curiously +unlike herself. + +"Dr. Anstice, will she die?" Her lips were ashy, and in her white face +only the sapphire eyes seemed alive. "If she dies, I will never forgive +Tochatti--never!" + +"Tochatti?" Anstice was surprised. "Was she to blame for this?" + +"Not altogether." Chloe could be just, it seemed, even in the midst of +her sorrow. "I will tell you what happened. As perhaps you know, Cherry +was to have been one of Iris Wayne's bridesmaids, and at her own request +Tochatti had made her dress, a flimsy little thing all muslin and lace. +She had spent days over it--she embroiders wonderfully, and when it was +done it was perfectly exquisite. She finished it last evening, and +Cherry insisted on a dress rehearsal. She was to pay me a surprise visit +in the drawing-room just before dinner, and it seems that when she was +quite ready Tochatti slipped downstairs to find Hagyard and admit him to +a private view, leaving Cherry alone in the room--against all +rules--with two candles burning on the dressing-table." + +She paused. + +"I think I understand," said Anstice quietly. "Cherry took up a candle +to get a better view of her pretty frock, and----" + +"Not exactly," Chloe interrupted him. "She leaned forward, it seems, in +order to look at herself more closely in the glass--you know children +are fond of seeing themselves in pretty clothes--and, as you might +imagine, she leaned too close to the candle and her sleeve caught fire." + +"She cried out?" + +"Yes--luckily we all heard her." Through all her marble pallor Chloe +flushed at the remembrance of that poignant moment. "We rushed in and +found her shrieking, and Tochatti beat out the flames with her hands." + +"With her hands? Is she burnt, too, then?" + +"Yes--I believe so." Chloe's tone expressed no pity. "She tied up her +hand--the left one--herself, and says it is nothing much." + +"I see." Privately Anstice determined to investigate the woman's hurt +before he left the house. "Well--and what then?" + +"When we got the flames under we found that Cherry had fainted, and we +telephoned at once for you." She stopped short, taken aback by the +strange expression on his face. + +"Yes--and I wish to God I'd heard your call!" Anstice bit his lip +savagely; and Chloe, uncomprehending but compassionate, hastened on with +her story. + +"You couldn't help being ill! Iris told me how your maids were all in +the Park watching the fireworks--and then when my brother and Iris came +down you were too ill to come. Are you better now?" + +"So they went for Willows and brought him back with them?" He +disregarded her question--possibly did not hear it. + +"Yes, and as I have told you he was most kind. But of course Cherry did +not know him, and she kept on crying for you----" + +Chloe, who had intended the last words kindly, thinking to please him by +this proof of the child's affection for him, was aghast at the result of +her speech. + +"Mrs. Carstairs, for God's sake don't tell me that!" Anstice's voice +almost frightened her, so bitter, so full of remorse was it. "It only +wanted _that_ to make the horror complete--the knowledge that I failed a +little child in her need!" + +"The horror?" She stared at him. "I don't understand." + +"No, and there's no reason why you should." With a great effort he +resumed his ordinary tone. "Mrs. Carstairs, forgive me. I ... as you +know--I was--ill--last night, and I'm not quite myself this morning. +But"--he turned the subject resolutely--"what I want to say is this. +Cherry will need very careful nursing for some days, and I think it will +be well for me to send you a nurse." + +Chloe received the suggestion rather dubiously. + +"Do you think it is really necessary?" she said at length. "I'm as +strong as a horse, and as for Tochatti, I'm afraid she wouldn't like to +feel herself superseded. She is devoted to Cherry, you know, and she is +a very jealous woman." + +"Yes," he said, "but even although you and Tochatti are ready to give +yourselves up to the child, in a case of this sort skill is wanted as +well as affection." He smiled to soften the harshness of his words, and +Chloe inconsequently thought that he looked very weary this morning. + +"Of course, and if we don't prove competent you are at liberty to send +us a nurse. But"--she spoke rather wistfully--"mayn't we try, Tochatti +and I? I would a thousand times sooner nurse Cherry myself than let a +stranger be with her." + +Touched by something in her voice, remembering also the peculiar +position in which this woman stood--a wife without a husband, with no +one in the world, apparently, to care for her save her child--Anstice +yielded the point for the moment. + +"Very well, then. We will try this arrangement first, and if Cherry goes +on well there will be no need to call in other help. Now I should like +to see Tochatti, and give you both instructions." + +Without a word Chloe led him back to the smaller bedroom where Cherry +lay uneasily dozing; and Anstice beckoned to Tochatti to approach the +window. + +She came forward rather sullenly; and Anstice, irritated by her manner, +spoke in rather a peremptory tone. + +"Let me see your hands, please. I understand you were burnt last night." + +Unwillingly the woman held out her left hand, which was wrapped round +with a roughly constructed bandage; and as Anstice took it and began to +unwind the folds he heard her draw in her breath with an odd little +hiss. + +"Did I hurt you?" he asked, surprised, and the woman answered stolidly. + +"No, thank you, sir. You did not hurt me at all." + +Her manner struck him as peculiar; it almost seemed as though she +resented his efforts on her behalf; and as he unwrapped the last of the +bandage Anstice told himself she was by no means an attractive patient. + +But when he saw her hand he forgave her all her peculiarities; for she +must have suffered untold pain during the hours which had elapsed since +the accident. + +"I say--why didn't you show your hand to the doctor last night?" He +spoke impetuously, really shocked to see the extent of her burns. "You +have given yourself a lot of unnecessary pain, and it will take much +longer to heal. You must let me dress the place at once." + +Assisted by Chloe, who fetched and carried for him deftly, he dressed +and bound up the burnt hand; and though the woman never flinched, there +was a look in her eyes which showed him she was enduring great pain. + +"There." He finished his work and looked at her closely. "That will feel +easier soon. But you know you should lie down and try to sleep for an +hour or two--and that hand will be quite useless for some days. Really, +Mrs. Carstairs"--he turned to Chloe--"I think you will have to let me +send for a nurse, after all. You can't do everything, and Tochatti is +more or less disabled----" + +He was surprised by the effect of his words. Tochatti turned to her +mistress eagerly, and began pouring out a stream of Italian which was +quite incomprehensible to Anstice, who was no better at modern languages +than the average public school and University product. And Chloe replied +in the same tongue, though without the wealth of gesture employed by the +other woman; while Anstice waited, silently, until the colloquy was +concluded. + +Finally Chloe turned, apologetically, to him and explained the subject +of the woman's entreaties. + +"Tochatti is so terribly upset at the idea of a strange woman coming to +nurse Cherry that I have promised to try to persuade you to reverse your +verdict," she said. "Do you mind? Of course if we can't manage you must +do as you think fit--but----" + +"We will try, by all means." In spite of himself, he was touched by the +woman's fierce devotion to her charge. "And now I'll tell you exactly +what I want you to do until I come again this afternoon." + +He proceeded to give them full instructions how to look after the child, +and when he had assured himself that they understood exactly what was to +be done, he took his leave, promising to call again in the course of a +few hours. + +As he drove away he mused for a moment on the Italian woman's peculiar +manner towards him. + +"Seems as if she hated me to speak to her ... she's never been like that +before--indeed, when Cherry broke her arm she used to welcome me quite +demonstratively." He smiled, then grew grave again. "Of course the woman +was in pain to-day--she was a queer colour, too--looked downright ill. I +expect the affair has been a shock to her as well as to the child." + +And with that conclusion he dismissed Tochatti from his mind for the +time being, his thoughts reverting to the one subject which filled his +mental horizon to-day. + + * * * * * + +All through the bright September afternoon he sat alone in his +rarely-used drawing-room. The consulting-room was haunted ground to him +since the episode of the previous evening, and he could not bear to go +out into the village lest he might perhaps behold some signs of the +great event which was agitating peaceful Littlefield to-day. + +But his imagination, unmercifully awakened from the stupor which had +temporarily lulled it to repose, showed him many visions on that golden +September afternoon. + +He saw the old grey church decked with flowers, saw the sunlight +filtering through the famous Burne-Jones window in a splash of gorgeous +blue and crimson, staining the white petals of the big lilies in the +chancel ... he heard the peals of the organ as the choristers broke out +into the hymn which heralded the bride ... saw the bride herself, a +little pale, a little serious, in her white robes, in her eyes the grave +and tender look whose possibility he had long ago divined.... + +Oh, he was a fool to let his imagination torment him so ... and he +sprang to his feet, determined to put an end to these maddening visions +which only unfitted him for the stern and hopeless battle which was all +that he could look forward to henceforth.... + +As he moved impatiently towards the door a sudden peal of bells rang out +gaily, exultantly on the soft and balmy air; and his face turned grey as +he realized that this was the signal which betokened that Iris was now +the wife of Bruce Cheniston, his to have and to hold, irrevocably his +until death should intervene to end their dual existence.... + + * * * * * + +With a muttered oath he strode out of the house, and making his way +round to the garage ordered his car to be brought forth immediately. + +When it came he flung himself into the steering seat and drove away at +such a pace that Andrews, his outdoor man and general factotum, looked +after him anxiously. + +"Looks like getting his licence endorsed," he observed to the pretty +housemaid, Alice, who was watching her master's departure from a +convenient window. "Never saw him drive so reckless--he's generally what +you might call a very considerate driver." + +"Considerate? What of?" asked Alice ungrammatically. "The dogs and +chickens in the road, d'you mean?" + +"Dogs and chickens! Good Lord, no!" Andrews was a born mechanician, and +it was a constant source of regret to him that Anstice generally drove +the car himself. "They're nothing but a nuisance anyway. No, I meant he +considered the car--but he don't look much like it to-day." + +"Oh, the car!" Alice was openly scornful. "Well, from the pace he went +off just now, I should think he'll smash up your precious old car before +he goes far. And no loss either," said Alice, who was engaged to a +soldier in a cavalry regiment, and therefore disdained all purely +mechanical means of locomotion. + + * * * * * + +But once out on the road Anstice moderated his pace somewhat, since to +run over an unwary pedestrian would only add to the general hopelessness +of the situation; and he reached Cherry Orchard without any such mishap +as his servants had prophesied for him. + +Here he found things less satisfactory than he had hoped. Cherry was no +better; indeed, to his experienced eye, the child was worse, and +although Mrs. Carstairs showed no signs of fatigue, and was apparently +prepared to nurse her little daughter indefinitely, it was evident that +the woman Tochatti was worn out with pain, anxiety, and, possibly, +remorse. + +Although she pulled herself together sufficiently to answer Anstice's +questions intelligibly, it was plain to see that she was in reality half +dazed by the shock she had experienced and by want of sleep, and Anstice +realized that if Cherry were to be properly nursed some other help must +be obtained at once. + +"See here, Mrs. Carstairs." His face was grave as he examined the +child's condition. "I'm not going to beat about the bush--I'm going to +send you a nurse to help you with Cherry." + +"A nurse? But--can't Tochatti and I----?" + +"You're all right," he said shortly. "You look good for any amount of +nursing, though I can't imagine how you do it, seeing you had no sleep +last night. But Tochatti is no use at present." He judged it best to +speak frankly. "It is evident she is in pain with that hand of hers, and +she will be fit for nothing to-night, at any rate." + +Chloe did not contest the point further. + +"Very well, Dr. Anstice. You know best; and if you think it necessary, +will you find us someone at once?" + +"Yes. I think I know just the person for you." He turned to Tochatti, +who was standing by, her face full of smouldering resentment. "I'm sure +you want me to do the best thing for Miss Cherry, don't you?" + +She did not answer; and he repeated his question rather sharply. + +This time she answered him. + +"_Si, signor._" She spoke sulkily, and a flash of something like actual +hatred shot from her black eyes as he watched her; but he had no time to +spare for her vagaries, and turned back to Chloe Carstairs forthwith. + +"Then I will try to find Nurse Trevor and bring her along. She will sit +up to-night, and then you can both get some rest." He spoke kindly, +including Tochatti in his smile; but the woman merely glowered, and he +felt a spasm of sudden annoyance at her ungracious behaviour. + + * * * * * + +Luckily Nurse Trevor was at hand and disengaged; and Anstice had the +satisfaction of finding her safely installed and apparently completely +at home in her new surroundings when he paid his last visit to Cherry +Orchard late that night. + +She was a pretty girl of twenty-seven, who had had a good deal of +experience in nursing children, and although poor little Cherry was by +this time too ill to pay much attention to any of the people around her, +it really seemed as though Margaret Trevor's soft voice, with its +cooing, dove-like notes, had a soothing influence on the suffering +child. + +Anstice stayed some time in Cherry's room, doing all his skill could +suggest for the alleviation of his little patient's pain, and when at +length he took his departure Chloe herself came downstairs with him. + +"What a lovely night!" She had opened the big hall door quietly while he +sought his hat. "The moon must be nearly at the full, I think." + +Together they stood on the steps looking out over the dew-drenched +garden. The white stars of the jasmine which clustered thickly round the +house sent out a delicious fragrance, and there were a dozen other +scents on the soft and balmy air, as though the sleeping stocks and +carnations and mignonette breathed sweetly in their sleep. + +A big white owl flow, hooting, across the path, and Chloe shivered. + +"I hate owls--I always think them unlucky, harbingers of evil," she +said, and her face, as she spoke, was quite pale. + +In an ordinary way Anstice would have deemed it his duty to scoff at +such superstition; but to-night, his nerves unstrung, by the happenings +of the last few days, his bodily vigour at a low ebb, his mind a chaos +of miserable, hopeless memories and fears, Chloe's words woke a quite +unexpected response in his soul. + +"Don't say that, Mrs. Carstairs!" He spoke sharply. "Don't let us talk +of bad luck--to-night of all nights!" + +In the moonlight her narrow blue eyes studied his face with sudden +keenness, and she felt an unusual desire to bring comfort to the soul +which she felt with instinctive certainty stood in need of some help. + +As a rule Chloe Carstairs, like Anstice himself, was too much +preoccupied with the thought of her own private grudge against fate to +have any sympathy to spare for others who might have known that Deity's +frown; but to-night, owing possibly to some softening of her mental +fibres induced by the sight of her child's suffering, she felt oddly +pitiful towards this man, and her inward emotion found vent in words +which surprised her as much as they startled the man to whom they were +addressed. + +"Why to-night, Dr. Anstice? Has this day been to you what it has been to +me--a day of the bitterest suffering I have ever known?" + +The tone of her deep voice, so oddly gentle, the compassionate +expression in her usually cold blue eyes, were too much for Anstice, +whose endurance was nearly at the breaking point; and he turned to her +with a look in his face which dismayed her, so tragic was it. + +"Mrs. Carstairs, this day I have been in--_hell_!" The word sounded +cruelly out of place in the quiet moonlit night. "Once before I fancied +I had reached the point at which a man may turn his back on life and its +horrors without thinking himself a pitiful coward. I suffered then--my +God, how I suffered!--but the torture I have endured to-day makes me +feel as though I have never known what suffering is until now." + +Her answer came quickly. + +"But you know now that no man can turn his back on life and yet escape +the allegation of cowardice!" It was an assertion rather than a +question. "Dr. Anstice, I don't ask to know what your suffering has +been--I don't want you to tell me--but one thing I do know, that you, +and men like you, are not the ones who give up the battle when the fight +is fiercest." + +He delayed his answer so long that Chloe had time to feel curiously +frightened by his silence. And when his reply came it was hardly +reassuring. + +"I thought you were too wise a woman to indulge in generalities, Mrs. +Carstairs." His tired voice robbed the words of offence. "And don't you +know that it is never safe to prophesy what a man will do in a battle? +The bravest may turn coward beneath a hail of fire--the man who is +afraid may perform some deed which will entitle him--and rightly--to the +coveted Victoria Cross." + +"Yes." She spoke steadily, her eyes on his face. "But that's the +battlefield of the world, Dr. Anstice, the material, earthly +battlefield. It's the battlefield of the soul I was thinking of just +now; and if I may use a quotation which has been battered out of nearly +all its original fine shape by careless usage, to me the truly brave man +is he who remains to the end the--'captain of his soul!'" + +Her voice sank on the last words; but Anstice had caught her meaning, +and he turned to her with a new light in his tired eyes. + +"Mrs. Carstairs, thank you for what you've just said. Captain of his +soul--yes, I've heard it often enough, but never stopped to ponder its +meaning. And as the captain mustn't lose his ship if mortal man can +prevent the loss, so a man must bring the ship of his soul safely into +port. Is that what you meant just now?" + +She smiled faintly in the moonlight, and for once there was no mockery +in her smile. + +"We have wandered from our original metaphor of a battlefield," she said +gently, "but I like your simile of a ship better. Yes, I suppose that is +what I was trying to convey--in a confused fashion, I'm afraid. We each +have our voyage to complete, our ship to bring into harbour; and even +though sometimes it seems about to founder"--he knew she alluded to the +catastrophe of her own life--"we must not let it sink if we can keep it +afloat." + +For a moment there was silence between them; and again they heard the +melancholy hoot of the owl, flying homewards now. + +Then Anstice said slowly: + +"You are right, of course. But"--at last his pent-up bitterness burst +its bounds and overflowed in quick, vehement speech--"it's easy enough +for a man to handle his ship carefully when he has some precious thing +on board--or even when he knows some welcoming voice will greet him as +he enters--at last--into his haven. But the man whose ship is empty, who +has no right to expect even one greeting word--is there no excuse for +him if he navigate the seas carelessly?" + +"No." In the moonlight she faced him, and her eyes looked oddly +luminous. "For a derelict's the greatest danger a boat can encounter on +the high seas ... all our boats cross and recross the paths of others, +you know, and no man has the right to place another's ship in peril by +his own--carelessness." + +"By God, you're right," he said vehemently; and she did not resent his +hasty speech. "Mrs. Carstairs, you've done more for me to-night than you +know--and if I can repay you I will, though it cost me all I have in the +world." + +"You can repay me very easily," she said, holding out her hand, all the +motherhood in her coming to the surface. "Save Cherry--she is all _I_ +have--now--in the world; and her little barque, at least, was meant to +dance over summer seas." + +"God helping me, I will save her," he said, taking her hand in a quick, +earnest clasp; and then he entered his waiting car and drove away +without another word, a new courage in his heart. + + * * * * * + +And as Chloe gently closed the heavy door on the peaceful, fragrant +world without and returned to the little room where Cherry lay in an +uneasy slumber, she knew that a faint suspicion which had crossed her +mind earlier in the summer had been verified to-night. + +"He too loved Iris," she said to herself, with a rather sad little +smile. "And I thought--once--that she was ready to love him in return. +But, I suppose she preferred Bruce. Only"--Chloe had no illusions on the +subject of her brother--"I believe Dr. Anstice would have made her a +happier woman than Bruce will ever be able to do. And if he"--she did +not refer to Cheniston now--"has lost his chance of happiness to-day, no +wonder he feels that he has been in hell. For there is no hell so +terrible as the one in which a soul who loves wanders alone, without its +beloved," said the woman whose husband had left her because of a cruel +doubt. "From the bottom of my heart I pity that man to-night!" + +And then, re-entering Cherry's little room, pathetic now in its very +brightness of colouring, Chloe forgot all else in the world save the +child who slept, in the narrow bed, watched by Margaret Trevor's soft, +brooding eyes. + + + + +BOOK II + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +On a cold and frosty morning in November Anstice was sitting over his +solitary breakfast when the telephone-bell rang; and he left his coffee +to grow cold while he answered the summons. + +It was Sir Richard who was speaking; and even over the wire Anstice +thought he detected an unusual note in the older man's voice. + +"That you, Anstice? Are you busy, or can you spare me a few minutes this +morning?" + +"I'll come to Greengates, of course, if you want me, Sir Richard," said +Anstice immediately. "But I hope you are not ill--nor Lady Laura?" + +"No, my sister's all right--so am I." There was a pause. "But I--well, +I'm rather worried, and I want to see you." + +"Very well, sir. I'll be round at eleven. Will that suit you?" + +"Yes, eleven will do well. _Au revoir_ till then," and Sir Richard rang +off with a promptitude which forbade further discussion for the moment. + +As he went back to his cooling coffee Anstice wondered vaguely what Sir +Richard could have to say; but since speculation was mere idle waste of +time he dismissed the matter from his mind and finished his breakfast in +haste. + +It was nearly noon when he drove his car up to the great hall door of +Greengates; but the words of apology for his tardy arrival died on his +lips when he caught sight of Sir Richard's face. + +"I say, I'm afraid you're ill, after all!" Anstice was genuinely +concerned; and Sir Richard's strained features relaxed into a smile. + +"No, I'm perfectly well. Only, as I told you, I have been upset this +morning; and--well, I'll explain and you will see there _is_ something +to worry about." + +Without more ado he walked over to his substantial roll-top desk, and +unlocking a drawer took from thence an envelope which he handled +gingerly as though it were unpleasing to him. + +From the envelope he drew a sheet of thin paper; and Anstice, watching +him closely, felt still more mystified by his distasteful expression. + +For a moment Sir Richard hesitated, still holding the sheet by the tips +of his fingers. Then, as though he had taken a sudden resolve, he turned +to Anstice abruptly. + +"Look here, Anstice, this abominable thing reached me this morning. Now +of course I don't need you to tell me that the proper place for it is +the fire, and if it had not been for one circumstance connected with it, +it would have been in the flames by now. But as things are"--he broke +off suddenly and held the thin sheet out to the other man--"well, read +it, and then tell me what you think is the best course to pursue." + +With a premonition of evil for which he could not account, Anstice took +the paper from Sir Richard and, turning to the window so that the pale +autumn sunlight might fall upon the letter, he read the few lines +scrawled in the middle of the sheet. + + "Dr. Anstice is a murderer he killed a woman in India by shooting + her because she was in the way when he wanted to escape." + +That was all. There was no heading, no signature, not even the cynical +assurance of well-wishing which is the hall-mark, so to speak, of the +typical anonymous letter; and as Anstice read the ill-written words his +first sensation was of wonder as to who his secret enemy might be. + +When he had finished he turned the sheet over in his hands to see if +perchance the writer might have more to say; but the other side of the +paper was blank; and he looked at Sir Richard with an expression of +utter bewilderment. + +"Well?" Sir Richard interrogated him with interest. "Pretty sort of +document, eh? I suppose the writing conveys nothing to your mind?" + +"Nothing at all." Holding the paper to the light, Anstice examined the +ill-formed characters more closely. "It does not resemble any +handwriting I know. But I suppose"--he smiled rather grimly--"the test +of a successful anonymous correspondent is to disguise his writing +efficiently." + +"Yes." Sir Richard stretched out his hand for the paper and Anstice +yielded it to him without regret. "Well, it is pretty evident that +someone has--to put it vulgarly--got his knife into you. The question +is, who can it be?" + +"Well, it's a question I'm not clever enough to answer," returned +Anstice, with assumed lightness. "All men have enemies, I suppose, and I +won't swear I've never made any in my life. But I can't at the moment +recall one who would stoop to fight with such dirty weapons as these." + +"Dirty--that's just the word for it," said Sir Richard disgustedly. "But +you know, Anstice, this sort of thing can't be allowed to go on. For +your own sake, and for the sake of others"--he paused, then repeated +himself deliberately--"for the sake of others it must be stopped--at +once." + +"I quite agree with you that it must be stopped," said Anstice slowly, +"though I hardly see how the matter affects anyone except myself. Of +course"--he looked Sir Richard squarely in the face as he spoke--"it is +no use denying there is a certain amount of truth in this accusation +against me. I wonder if you have the patience to listen to a story--the +story of a great mistake made, unfortunately, by me some years ago." + +For a moment Sir Richard seemed about to speak; yet no word crossed his +lips. Then he said, with a very kindly inflection in his voice: + +"Don't trouble to tell me the story, Anstice. I think I know it +already." + +"You do?" Anstice stared at him. "But who told it to you? Was +it--Cheniston?" + +"No, no." Sir Richard spoke hurriedly. "Cheniston never mentioned the +affair to me. As a matter of fact I heard it, at the time, from his +uncle, a contemporary of mine; but I confess I did not, at first, +associate you with the man who was brave enough--and unfortunate +enough--to carry out that poor girl's wish----" + +"On my honour, sir, I could not have done anything else." Anstice's +voice was full of pain, and Sir Richard put his hand kindly on the +younger man's shoulder. + +"Of course you couldn't--no one but a fool could imagine that for a +moment! But as I say, at first I did not connect your name with that of +the hero of the story. It was only on seeing you and Cheniston together +on one or two occasions that I guessed you might, after all, be the +man." + +"Yes--to my everlasting remorse I am the man," said Anstice rather +bitterly. "But since you know the facts of the case, and yet are good +enough to welcome me to your house, I gather this wretched letter +carried no weight with you, Sir Richard. And if that is so, why not tear +it up, and make an end of the thing?" + +"Wait a moment, Anstice. As you say, I know the facts of the case and +even if I were ignorant of them this contemptible _canard_"--he flicked +the paper angrily--"wouldn't rouse my curiosity to the extent of setting +me searching for some crime in your past." He smiled, but the smile cost +him an effort. "But you see the mischief may not rest here. It is quite +possible other people may have been--victimized--by this morning's +post." + +"By Jove, I hadn't thought of that." Anstice stood biting his lip and +staring thoughtfully ahead of him; and the old man watched the thin, +fine-drawn face with a regard which was full of anxiety. "Naturally a +story of this sort is not calculated to enhance one's popularity; and +one's patients might quite well look askance at a doctor who was reputed +to be a murderer!" + +He paused; then threw back his head impetuously. + +"After all, if they are weak-minded enough to believe an anonymous +statement, they aren't worth bothering with. As it is, I've been +thinking for some time that I've had enough of general practice. I never +intended to go in for it, you know; and if I had a quiet year or two for +research----" + +He broke off suddenly, for Sir Richard had raised his hand almost +entreatingly. + +"Anstice, don't speak of giving up your practice here--not at this +juncture, anyway. You see this vile story may spread; and to quit +Littlefield now would look almost like"--he hesitated--"like cowardice." + +For a second Anstice stared at him, a flash of anger on his brow. Then, +as though dismayed by the effect of his words, Sir Richard spoke again. + +"Besides, there is another aspect of the matter which has evidently not +yet struck you. It is very natural for you to look on this letter as a +loathsome, but quite unimportant, act of spite, on the part of some +secret enemy; and I understand your desire to assume that it does not +matter in the least. But"--his eyes sought the younger man's face +anxiously--"there is another person in this neighbourhood who might be +affected by a fresh flood of anonymous communications. You know to whom +I refer?" + +Suddenly Anstice saw, with a most unwelcome clarity of vision, what Sir +Richard intended to convey; and his eyes grew hard as he replied: + +"You mean----" + +"I mean that once again that unfortunate girl at Cherry Orchard might be +suspected of having recourse to this most degrading, most underhand form +of crime. And for her sake the matter must not be allowed to rest here." + +"Sir Richard"--Anstice came a step nearer his host, and Sir Richard +heard, with satisfaction, the ring of steel in his voice--"you are +right. I did not see, at first, how peculiarly fatal this coincidence +might be. I mean that should these letters, as you suggest, be +circulated through the district, the old scandal would be revived. And +though no sane person could ever believe Mrs. Carstairs guilty of such a +vile action, I suppose there _are_ a good many lunatics about who would +put these atrocious things down to her." + +"Well, you know what people are," said Sir Richard deprecatingly, "and +naturally a woman who has once been convicted, by whatever unfair means, +of the same offence, is liable to be looked on with suspicion. And I +shouldn't like"--for a second Sir Richard, who loved Chloe Carstairs as +though she had been his daughter, faltered, and cleared his throat +rather huskily--"I shouldn't like that poor, pretty creature over yonder +to suffer any further indignity." + +"Of course not!" Anstice's eyes flashed, and he pulled himself together +resolutely. "And if I can help it, she shan't suffer! Just look here, +Sir Richard, the first thing to do is to find out if anyone else has +been, as you say, victimized." + +"Yes." Sir Richard spoke rather dubiously. "And it will be rather hard +to find out that, I fear. You see, naturally a decent man wouldn't +spread the fact abroad; and we can hardly go about making open +inquiries." + +"I suppose not." For a second Anstice was nonplussed, then his face +cleared. "But after all, if anyone--one of my patients, for instance, +has received one of these charming letters, don't you think I shall find +it out? You see, although the average 'decent man,' as you call him, +holds firmly to the theory that the place for an anonymous communication +is the fire, I'm afraid nine out of ten people can't help wondering, +even while they burn it, how much truth there was in the accusation!" + +"Just so--but even then----" + +"Well, something of that rather uncomfortable wonder, not to say +suspicion, is pretty sure to show itself in the manner of the man who's +read the letter. Seriously, Sir Richard, if anyone beside yourself has +received a testimonial to my character" He spoke ironically now--"I'll +guarantee to discover the fact in the course of ten minutes' +conversation with him!" + +"You may be right, Anstice." Sir Richard did not speak with much +conviction. "But for all our sakes I wish we could make certain of the +facts either way. You see, should this lie be circulated through the +district by means of letters or postcards it is inevitable that the old +scandal should be raked up. And in that case Mrs. Carstairs _will_ +suffer." + +A thought struck Anstice suddenly and he gave it utterance forthwith. + +"Sir Richard, I suppose you don't remember whether the handwriting in +any of those other letters resembled this in any way? It is not likely, +so long afterwards, but still----" + +Sir Richard uttered an impatient exclamation. + +"By Gad, what an old fool I am! I've got one of the original letters +locked away in that desk now--one of the half-dozen or so which reached +me when the scandal was at its height. I don't know why I kept it--God +knows I hated the sight of it--but somehow I could never bring myself to +destroy the thing, hoping against hope that it might some day afford a +clue to the identity of the writer." + +He busied himself with a bunch of keys for a moment, and finally +selected one, with which he unlocked a small drawer at the back of his +desk. At first his eagerness prevented him finding what he sought, but +presently he brought to light another and rather worn sheet of paper, +which he handed to Anstice triumphantly. + +"Yes, read it, read it!" He had marked Anstice's hesitation. "The +affair's been public property too long for any secrecy now. And that, +after all, was a fairly innocuous screed." + +Thus encouraged, Anstice ran his eye over the sheet of paper, and there +read a veiled, but none the less malignant, attack on the character of +Mrs. Ogden, the wife of the man who had held the living of Littlefield +at the time the letter was written. In his anxiety to compare the +handwriting of the two epistles Anstice barely stopped to take in the +meaning of what he read; and when, in answer to his request, Sir Richard +handed him the second letter he carried them both eagerly to the window +and examined them carefully in the stronger light. + +"Well?" Sir Richard's tone was full of sympathetic interest. + +"One moment--I've got a pocket magnifying glass somewhere." He put the +letters down and plunged his hand into various pockets in eager search. +"Ah--here it is--and we'll jolly soon see if the game hand has been at +work in both." + +Watching him as he pored over the two papers Sir Richard told himself +that with this man for her champion Chloe Carstairs need not fear +further condemnation at the hands of a censorious or jealous world. He +knew instinctively that what made Anstice so suddenly keen on +discovering the authorship of the letters was not a selfish desire to +rid himself of the annoyance such letters might bring upon him, but +rather a determination to prove Chloe Carstairs innocent in the first +instance by bringing home the guilt for both letters--or series of +letters--to the right quarter. + +Sir Richard made no mistake in his estimation of Anstice's chivalrous +desire to right the wrong which had been done to Mrs. Carstairs. He knew +quite well that to Anstice the righting of the wrong appeared in the +light of a duty to the woman whom he called his friend; and that no +warmer emotion animated him in regard to Chloe Carstairs than that same +chivalry. + +For Iris' father had not been blind to the significance of the events of +the summer. Although Anstice had never betrayed his secret by word or +look the other man had all along had a suspicion that Cheniston was not +alone in his love for his pretty daughter; and although naturally he was +ignorant of the compact entered into by the two younger men he had +sometimes wondered, with just the least possible tinge of regret, why +Anstice had apparently been content to leave the field to his rival. + +Although he admitted to himself that he had absolutely no grounds for +believing that Anstice had been in love with Iris he could never rid +himself of the notion; and in any case he felt quite certain that +Anstice had no warmer feeling for Mrs. Carstairs than a very genuine and +chivalrous friendliness. + +Watching the younger man as he stood with bent head examining the papers +Sir Richard was struck by the change in Anstice's face during the last +few months. Always thin, it was now positively haggard, and the black +hair which clustered round his brow was touched, here and there, with +grey. Yet the effect was not one of age. He could hardly be said to look +older than his years; but there was a look of something more painful +than a premature ageing would have been--a look of suffering, of bitter +experience impatiently borne, of a mental conflict which had drawn lines +round the fine lips, and given an air of hopeless weariness to the +deep-set eyes. + +And Sir Richard, watching, wondered again--this time uneasily--whether +the marriage of his beloved little daughter to Bruce Cheniston had +proved yet another trouble for this man's already burdened spirit to +bear. + +Sir Richard had, of course, no idea of the remorse with which Anstice +remembered that terrible scene on the eve of Iris' wedding day, when +Cheniston and the girl he was to marry on the morrow had come to him for +help; and had found him in no fit state to render aid to any human +being. + +That fact alone, the fact that, as he had said bitterly to Chloe +Carstairs, he had failed a child in her need, would have been sufficient +to fill Anstice with a very real and deep regret for his own most +lamentable failure; but added to that was the other and still more +deplorable fact that it had been Iris Wayne who had seen his condition; +and although she had uttered no word of reproach he told himself +hopelessly that now he must have fallen very low in her estimation. And +the idea that Iris must scorn him in her heart, however charitably she +might strive to think of him, was a terrible one to the man who had +fought so heroically for her sake to overcome his weakness, and had +failed only when it had seemed to him that his failure--now--could mean +nothing to the girl he loved. + + * * * * * + +As Sir Richard watched him, rather uneasily, Anstice turned to him +suddenly. + +"I say, Sir Richard, I'm pretty sure these letters are both written by +one hand! Look, these two 'a's are identical, and the capital 'D' is +absolutely similar in both." + +Oddly thrilled, Sir Richard bent over the papers; and saw that Anstice +had spoken the obvious truth. + +"By Gad, Anstice, you're right!" For a moment he did not know whether to +be disturbed or relieved by the discovery. "It looks uncommonly as +though the same hand were at work again; and in that case----" + +"In that case the mischief-maker shall be brought to book." A new look +of resolution drove away the weary lines from the speaker's face. "I +hope with all my heart it _is_ the same person who's at the old +game--and I'll find out who it is if it costs me every penny I've got!" + +"Quite right, quite the right spirit," said Sir Richard, watching him +keenly the while. "It's damnably unfair that a story of that sort should +be circulated about you--and the blackguard who's responsible deserves a +heavy punishment for the lie." + +In an instant the vivacity died out of Anstice's face; and again its +hopeless expression struck Sir Richard with a sense of pain. + +"Of course the thing is not exactly a lie," he said. "I mean, I did act +too hastily, though God knows I did it for the best. But if the whole +story is to be raked up again--by Jove, I believe after all it would be +better to let sleeping dogs lie!" + +"You forget--this is not the first letter which has fallen like a +bombshell into Littlefield," Sir Richard reminded him quietly; and +Anstice flushed a dull red. + +"Of course not ... what a fool I am! Thinking of the past, of that +horrible morning, I forgot Mrs. Carstairs. But"--he squared his +shoulders aggressively--"I shall not forgot again. This thing is going +to be sifted now, and the mystery solved. May I take these letters with +me?" + +"Certainly." Sir Richard felt Anstice had the better right to the +documents. "You will take care of them, of course; and if you follow my +advice you will not show them to anyone--yet." + +"Quite so." Anstice put the two letters carefully away in his +pocket-book. "Now I must go, Sir Richard; but please believe I am +grateful for your kindness in this matter." + +He shook hands with Sir Richard, and hurried away to his waiting car; +and as he drove from the house his lips were firmly set together, and +the look in his eyes betokened no good to the wretched creature who had +penned this latest communication. + +And Sir Richard, watching him from a side window, felt a sharp pang of +regret that this man, whom he liked and trusted, had not managed, +apparently, to win his daughter's affection. + +"Damme if I wouldn't rather have had him for a son-in-law than the +other," he said to himself presently. "Cheniston's a decent fellow +enough, brainy and a thoroughly steady sort of chap, but there is +something about this man that I rather admire. It may be his pluck, or +his quiet tenacity of purpose--I'm hanged if I know what it is; but on +my soul I'm inclined to wish I'd been called upon to give my little girl +into his keeping. As for that affair in India, it's not every man who +would have had the pluck to shoot the girl, and precious few men would +have lived it down as he has done. I believe I'd have put a bullet +through my brain if it had been me," said Sir Richard honestly, "but I +can quite realize that it's a long sight finer to see the thing through. +And if there's to be fresh trouble over these confounded anonymous +scrawls, well, I'll stick to the fellow through thick and thin!" + +And with this meritorious resolve Sir Richard went back to his +comfortable fire and the paper which he had not, as yet, had the heart +to peruse. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +On the day following Sir Richard's interview with Anstice the latter +received an unexpected call from the Vicar of Littlefield parish. + +The two men were on fairly intimate terms. For the clergyman, as a +scholar and a gentleman, Anstice had a real respect, though the +religious side of Mr. Carey's office, as expressed in his spiritual +ministrations, could hardly be expected to appeal to the man who could +never rid himself of the feeling that God had deliberately failed him at +a critical moment. + +Mr. Carey, on his side, had a genuine liking for Anstice, whose skill he +admired with the impersonal admiration which a specialist in one +profession accords to an expert in another vocation. But mingled with +his admiration was an uneasy suspicion that all was not well with the +spiritual health of this most indifferent of his parishioners, and he +was grieved, with the charity of a large and generous nature, by the +gloom, the melancholy, which at times were written only too plainly on +the other's face. + +The two men were brought into contact now and again by the very nature +of their respective callings. Soul and body are after all so closely +related that the health of the one depends largely on that of the other; +and at times both priest and physician must take their share in the +gracious task of healing. And on the occasions when their work brought +them together the mutual liking and respect between the two was sensibly +strengthened. + +So that it did not cause Anstice more than a passing sensation of +surprise when on this cold and raw November evening the Reverend Fraser +Carey was announced as a visitor. + +"Mr. Carey here? Where have you taken him, Alice?" + +"Into the drawing-room, sir. The fire's not lighted, but I can put a +match to it in a moment." + +"No, don't do that." Anstice hated the little-used drawing-room. "Take +Mr. Carey into my room, and bring up some coffee directly, will you?" + +"Yes, sir." The maid, who in common with the rest of the household +regarded Anstice with an admiration not unmixed with awe, withdrew to +carry out her instructions; and hastily finishing an important letter, +Anstice went in search of his rare visitor. + +"Hallo, Carey--jolly good of you to look me up on a beastly night like +this." He poked the fire into a brighter blaze, and drew forward a +capacious leather chair. "Sit down and light up. We'll have some coffee +presently--I know you don't care for anything stronger." + +"Thanks, Anstice." Mr. Carey sank down into the big chair and held his +transparent-looking hands to the flames. "It is a bad night, as you say, +and this fire is uncommonly cosy." + +Fraser Carey was a man of middle age who, through constitutional +delicacy, looked older than his years. His features, well-cut in +themselves, were marred by the excessive thinness and pallor of his +face; and his eyes, beneath their heavy lids, told a story of unrestful +nights spent in wrestling with some mental or physical pain which +forbade the refreshment of sleep. He had never consulted Anstice +professionally, though he had called upon his services on behalf of a +little niece who sometimes visited him; and Anstice wondered now and +then what scruple it was which prevented his friend making use of such +skill as he might reasonably claim to possess. + +To-night Carey looked even more tired, more fragile than ever; and +Anstice refrained from speech until he had poured out two cups of +deliciously fragrant coffee and had seen that Carey's pipe was in full +blast. + +Then: "It is quite a time since you dropped in for a chat," he said +cheerfully. "Yet this isn't a specially busy season of the year for you +parsons, is it? _We_ are run off our legs with influenza and all the +rest of it, thanks to the weather, but you----" + +"We parsons are generally busy, you know," returned Carey with a smile. +"Human nature being what it is there is no close-time for sin--nor for +goodness either, God be thanked," he added hastily. + +"I suppose not." Having satisfactorily loaded his pipe Anstice lay back +and puffed luxuriously. "In any case I'm glad you've found time to drop +in. By the way, there is a woman down in Blue Row about whom I wanted to +see you. I think you know the family--the man is a blacksmith, Richards +by name." + +He outlined the needs of the case, and Carey took a few notes in the +little book he carried for the purpose. After that the conversation +ranged desultorily over various local matters mildly interesting to +both; and then there fell a sudden pause which Anstice at least felt to +be significant. + +It was broken, abruptly, by the clergyman, who sat upright in his chair, +and, laying his empty pipe down on the table, turned to face his host +more fully. + +"Anstice." His thin, rather musical voice held a new and arresting note. +"My visit to you to-night was not of, a purely social nature. I came +because--I may have been wrong--because I felt it to be both an +obligation and an act of friendship to come here to discuss with you a +peculiar situation which has arisen within the last day or two in +Littlefield." + +Instantly Anstice guessed what was to follow; and he knocked the ashes +out of his pipe with a rather impatient gesture which was not lost on +the other man. + +"If you will listen to me for one moment," said Carey hastily, "you may +then refuse to discuss the subject if you wish. But I think it will +really be better if you can bring yourself to listen to me first." + +Even Anstice's annoyance was not proof against the other man's +moderation; and he spoke with creditable mildness. + +"I think I know what you want to say, Carey. Is it--this interesting +subject--concerned with certain statements which are being made about +me--anonymously--in the parish?" + +Carey's face lost a little of its uneasiness. + +"Yes," he said, "since you appear to be already acquainted with the fact +there is no use in denying it. Indeed, I don't wish to do so, seeing +that is what I came to say to you." + +"You have received such a letter yourself?" + +"Yes. I received a letter this morning." + +"I see." For a moment Anstice sat in silence, his lips set firmly +together; and the other man, watching, was struck, as Sir Richard had +been on the previous day, by the look of suffering in his face. "Well, +Carey, is it asking you too much to let me know exactly what form the +accusation against me took? Or have you the letter with you?" + +"No. I burnt the letter immediately," Carey answered. "Naturally such +communications are best destroyed--and forgotten--at once. But"--he +hesitated--"the fact is I have since discovered that I am not the only +person to be addressed by the unknown correspondent." + +"Indeed?" Anstice's eyes flashed. "Is it permissible to ask who else has +been thus--honoured?" + +The clergyman paused a moment before replying, and it was evident a +conflict was taking place in his mind. The struggle was, however, soon +terminated, and he answered Anstice's question resolutely. + +"Yes, it is quite permissible. Indeed, I had already gained the consent +of the other--victim"--he smiled deprecatingly--"to tell you, if +necessary, what was being said behind your back." + +"Well?" Anstice's tone was peremptory, but his friend did not resent it. + +"The other anonymous letter--the only other one of which I have any +knowledge--was addressed to the wife of your colleague--I don't think +he's your rival--Dr. Willows." + +"Oh!" Anstice opened his eyes; he had not expected this revelation. +"Poor little woman! What a shame to victimize her!" + +"Yes--as you know, she's quite a girl, they've only been married three +months; and the letter worried her considerably--so much so, in fact, +that as Willows is away on a week's holiday she sent for me to advise +her in the matter." + +"What advice did you give her?" + +"Well, in the first flush of indignation she was all for sending the +horrid thing on to you--a pretty sure sign that any accusation against +you had missed its mark," said Carey with a smile. "However, her heart +failed her at the critical moment and she sent for me instead. She was +at school with some young cousins of mine and we are on quite friendly +terms; so she confided her perplexity to me at once." + +"I see." Anstice was thinking hard. "And I suppose you returned her +confidence by giving her yours?" + +"Yes." Carey looked at him frankly. "I requested her to keep my +confidence as I would keep hers--save to you--and I am sure she will do +so. But"--he spoke gravely now--"I am afraid, Anstice, there is someone +in the neighbourhood who wishes to work you ill." + +"By the way"--Anstice was not listening very closely--"you have not yet +told me the nature of the accusation. I presume it was the same in both +cases?" + +"Practically, yes. It was a statement, made very plainly and directly, +that you--you----" + +He broke off, his thin cheeks flushing; and Anstice smiled rather dryly. + +"Don't let it distress you," he said, with an attempt at jocularity. +"Suppose I save you the trouble of repeating the contents of the +letters. I daresay the writer stated that I once, in order to get myself +out of a tight place in India, wantonly sacrificed the woman who was my +companion?" + +"Yes," said Carey slowly, "that was the substance of both +communications. The idea was, I gather, to prevent the recipients having +confidence in you by pointing to you as one who would save himself at +the expense of a woman. Of course"--he spoke more fluently now--"no one +who knew you would dream of attaching any weight whatever to that sort +of cruel and senseless lie; and as I told Mrs. Willows, such a baseless +slander is better left to die for want of notice. She quite agreed with +me," he added hastily, and Anstice's face cleared. + +"Thanks, Carey." He held out his hand, and Carey's transparent, fingers +clasped it with a strength which would have been surprising to one who +did not know the indomitable spirit which dwelt in the wasted frame. +"You are a true friend, and your friendship deserves some return. +Unfortunately the only return I can make is to tell you the miserable +story which is perverted by the anonymous writer into something less +creditable than--I hope--you will judge it to be." + +He sprang up suddenly and leaned against the mantelpiece, hands in +pockets as usual; and in that position, looking down on his friend as he +sat in his capacious chair, he outlined once again the happenings of +that bygone Indian dawn. + +He related the affair shortly--it was not a subject on which he cared to +dwell; and the clergyman listened thoughtfully, his sunken eyes fixed on +the pale face beneath the clustering black hair with an intentness of +regard which would have disturbed anyone less engrossed than the +narrator of the sad little story. + +When he had finished Anstice moved abruptly. + +"Well, that's the truth--and now you see that those statements made +about me are the most insidious form of lying--with a good foundation of +half-truths. That's what makes it so infernally hard to refute them." + +"I see." Carey loaned forward thoughtfully, shielding his face from the +flames with his thin hands. "It is a pitiful story, Anstice; and if you +will allow me to say so I admire and respect a man who can live down the +memory of a tragedy as you have done." + +"I have lived it down--yes," said Anstice, rather grimly. "But it's been +jolly hard at times not to throw up the sponge. Several people have +suggested--discreetly--that suicide is quite justifiable in cases of +this sort, but----" + +"Suicide is _never_ justifiable." The clergyman's delicate features +stiffened. "From the days of Judas Iscariot--the most notorious suicide +in the history of the world, I suppose--it has been the refuge of the +coward, the ingrate, the weak-minded. People talk of the pluck required +to enable a man to take his own life. What pluck is there in +deliberately turning one's back on the problems one hasn't the courage, +or the patience, to solve? Believe me, suicide--self-murder--is an +unthinkable resource to a really brave man." + +He stopped; but Anstice made no reply, though a rather cynical smile +played about his lips; and presently Carey went on speaking. + +"It always seems to me such sheer folly, such egregious lunacy, to +precipitate one's self into the unknown, seeing that one can hardly +expect the Giver of Life to welcome the soul He has not called. And I +have often wondered what depths of misery, of shame, must overwhelm the +uninvited soul in what someone has called 'the first five minutes after +Death.'" + +His voice sank to a whisper on the last words; and for a moment the room +was very still. Then Carey leaned forward and laid one hand on the +other's arm with a rather deprecating smile. + +"Forgive me, Anstice! The subject we were discussing is one on which I +find it difficult to hold my peace. But knowing you, I know that suicide +is not, would never be, the way out to one of your disposition." + +Anstice moved restlessly. + +"Odd you should use that expression," he said quickly. "Others have +employed it in connection with this miserable story of mine. No, suicide +is not the way out--nor is another expedient to which I have had +recourse. But"--suddenly his face lost its quietness and grew keen, +alert--"this slander has got to be stopped. You see this is not the +first time the neighborhood has been infested with this plague." + +"You refer to the unhappy circumstances connected with my predecessor's +wife?" + +"Yes. You know the story, of course?" + +"Yes. I am also acquainted--but very slightly--with Mrs. Carstairs." + +"Then you know a much-maligned woman," said Anstice. "And it is in order +to save her from further unhappiness that I intend to sift this matter +to the bottom." + +"I am delighted to hear you say so," said Carey earnestly. "And if I can +help you in any way my services are yours. First of all, how do you +propose starting on the sifting process?" + +"I have already made a start," rejoined Anstice. "Through the good +offices of Sir Richard Wayne, who has also been pestered with a letter, +I have discovered that the writing of those communications and of those +earlier ones you mentioned just now is in many respects identical." + +Carey sat upright, his face alight with interest. + +"Really? You think the writer of both is the same?" + +"Yes. Of course until I have studied the two letters in my possession a +little more closely I can't be positively certain on the point; but I +intend to submit them both to an expert at the first opportunity." + +"I can help you there," said Carey quite eagerly. "I mean, if you do not +know of a reliable expert I can give you the name of the cleverest man +in England." + +"Can you?" Anstice's notebook was out in a second. "Thanks very much--I +will write to him to-morrow. But in my own mind I have not a shadow of +doubt that the same person wrote them both." + +"By the way"--Carey spoke slowly--"how many people about here would be +likely to know the story you have told me to-night? Out in India, of +course, there might be some who would remember such a tragic episode. +But it's a far cry from Alostan to Littlefield." + +"The only people in the neighbourhood who have heard the true story are, +so far as I know, Sir Richard Wayne and"--he hesitated--"and his +daughter, who is now Mrs. Cheniston." + +"I see." Fraser Carey's eyes had noted the change of tone as Anstice +spoke the last name; and his quick humanism was stirred by the pitiful +idea which crossed his mind. "Sir Richard's daughter knew the story? +And--may we conclude that her husband would naturally share her +knowledge?" + +"Naturally--yes." He emphasized the word. "You see I omitted to tell you +that the girl I--the girl who was with me in the hut was engaged to this +very man, Bruce Cheniston, whom Miss Wayne eventually married." + +"Was she, indeed?" Carey was really surprised. "What a strange +coincidence that you should meet again--as I suppose you met--in +Littlefield." + +"We met, yes," said Anstice, his eyes growing fierce at the remembrance +of their meeting. "But--well, as you will readily see, none of those +persons is in the least likely to have anything to do with the letters +we are discussing. I daresay Mrs. Carstairs may possibly know the +story--if her brother saw fit to hand it on to her. But so far as I know +they are the only people who do know it, and naturally we can write all +of them off the list of suspects at once." + +"Quite so. I wonder"--Carey rose as he spoke--"I wonder if anyone else +has received one of those shameful letters? Of course should the matter +go no further there is not much real harm done, though of course----" + +"Whether there are other letters or not the matter is going to be +thoroughly investigated," said Anstice resolutely; and Carey experienced +a disturbing and quite unusual pang of regret for his own vanished youth +and strength as he heard the ring of determination in the other man's +voice, noted the firm set of his lips and the proud and dauntless +gesture with which he threw back his head, his black eyes sparkling. + +"Well, I shall follow the course of events with deep interest," he said, +striving as he spoke to fight down that unworthy sensation of envy of +another's superior equipment for the battle of life. "Of course I will +keep my own counsel; and in a few days at latest you should know whether +your enemy intends to strike again." + +"It is very good of you to take an interest in the horrible affair." +Anstice was really grateful. "Must you go? You haven't given me much of +your company to-night." + +"I must go--yes." His smile robbed the words of any discourtesy. "But +don't forget to call upon me if you want any help. And for the sake of +all concerned, but especially, if I may say so, for the sake of the poor +lady at Cherry Orchard, I trust you may be able to clear the matter up +for all the world to see." + +"It is chiefly for Mrs. Carstairs' sake that I intend to do so," +returned Anstice briefly. "Personally I don't care what may be said +about me; but I don't mean Mrs. Carstairs to be victimized further. And +if it costs me every penny I've got in the world the writer of these +letters shall be brought to book!" + +And Fraser Carey agreed, mentally, with Sir Richard's estimation of Mrs. +Carstairs' new champion. But he went further than Sir Richard, in that +he found occasion to wonder whether after all this unexpected and +unwelcome repetition of the former anonymous campaign which had +convulsed Littlefield might not in the end prove the salvation of the +man against whom it was presumably directed. + +Unlike Sir Richard, Carey was an observer of men, a student of human +nature, and he had not failed to notice the increased alertness which +had characterized Anstice this evening as he discussed the situation. +The rather bitter, indifferent look which generally clouded his face had +lifted, giving way to a brighter, more open expression; and the half +melancholy cynicism which Carey had deplored had vanished before the +eager determination to see an innocent and wronged woman righted in the +eyes of the world. + +"The man has brooded so long over what he considers to be an injustice +of God that he has lost, temporarily, his sense of proportion," said +Carey to himself as he trudged, rather wearily, homeward. "But if he +devotes himself, as he seems anxious to do, to the service of a woman +who has suffered an equal injustice, though at the hands of man this +time, possibly he will forgot his own bitterness in the contemplation of +her marred life. And God, who is the God of Justice, whatever scoffers +may say, will bring the truth to light in His own good time. So the two +tragedies may react on one another; for the lives of all of us are bound +together by mysterious and undreamed-of links; and in the effort to free +the soul of a woman from its bondage his own soul may well find its +freedom." + +But Fraser Carey was a mystic; and since the materialistic world looks +with suspicion on mysticism, it is probable that even Anstice, who knew +and respected him, would have heard his last speech with a passing +wonder that a man should hold so unpractical and untenable a view of +existence as the words would seem to imply. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Before he went to bed on the night of Carey's visit to him Anstice wrote +a letter to the expert recommended by his friend, inquiring whether an +appointment could be made for the following Friday afternoon; and on +Thursday night a laconic telegram arrived fixing three o'clock on Friday +for the suggested interview. + +It had seemed to Anstice that a personal interview with the expert would +be far more satisfactory than a prolonged correspondence; and he hurried +through his work on Friday morning and caught the noon express to London +with a minute to spare. + +He had the carriage to himself; and during the quick journey to town he +pored over the two specimens of handwriting which he was taking up for +examination until he was more than ever convinced that both were written +by the same hand. + +Mr. Clive, the noted handwriting expert, had a flat in Lincoln's Inn; +and thither Anstice hastened in a taxi, arriving just as the clocks of +London were striking three; a feat in punctuality which possibly +accounted for the pleasant smile with which Mr. Clive greeted his +visitor. + +The expert was a tall and thin person, with deep-set and brilliant eyes +hidden more or less by a pair of rimless eyeglasses; and Anstice was +suddenly and humorously reminded of the popular idea of a detective as +exemplified in Sherlock Holmes and his accomplished brethren. + +When he smiled Mr. Clive lost his somewhat austere expression; and as +Anstice obeyed his invitation to enter his sitting-room the latter felt +that he had come to the right person with whom to discuss the problem of +these annoying letters. + +"Now, Dr. Anstice." Clive pushed forward a chair for his visitor and +sank into another one himself, leaning back and joining his finger-tips +in a manner which again reminded Anstice involuntarily of the +super-detective. "I expect your time is as valuable as mine--probably +more so--and we won't waste it in preliminaries. I gather you have some +specimens of handwriting to submit to me?" + +"Yes. I have two letters to show you." He drew them carefully from his +notebook. "What I want to know is, whether they were both written by the +same hand or not." + +Mr. Clive unlaced his finger-tips and took the papers carefully from his +visitor; after which, rather to Anstice's amusement, he removed his +eyeglasses and proceeded to study the letters without their aid. + +For several minutes he pored over them in silence, the letters spread +out on the table before him; and Anstice, watching, could make nothing +of the inscrutable expression on his face. Presently he rose, went to a +little cabinet at the end of the room, and took from it a small +magnifying glass, with whose aid he made a further study of the two +documents; after which he resumed his eyeglasses and turned to Anstice +with a smile. + +"Your little problem is quite simple, Dr. Anstice," he said amiably. "As +soon as I looked at these letters I guessed them to be the work of one +hand. With the help of my glass I know my guess to be correct." + +For a moment Anstice could not tell whether he were relieved or +disappointed by this confirmation of his own suspicions; but the expert +did not wait for his comments. + +"If you will look through the glass you will see that the similarities +in many of the letters are so striking that there is really no possible +question as to their being written by one hand." He pushed the papers +and glass across to Anstice, who obediently bent over the table and +studied the letters as they lay before him. "For instance"--Clive moved +to Anstice's side and, leaning over his shoulder, pointed with a slim +finger--"that 'I' in India is identical with the one with which this +letter opens; and that 's' with its curly tail could not possibly have +been traced by any hand save that which wrote this one. There are other +points of resemblance--the spaces between the words, for instance--which +prove conclusively, to my mind at least, that the letters are the work +of one person; but I expect you have already formed an opinion of your +own on the subject." + +"Yes," said Anstice. "To be frank, I have. I was quite sure in my own +mind that they were written by one person; but I wanted an expert +opinion. And now the only thing to be discovered is--who is that +person?" + +Clive smiled. + +"That is a different problem--and a more difficult one," he said +quietly. "These anonymous letters are very often exceedingly hard nuts +to crack. But probably you have someone in your mind's eye already." + +"No," said Anstice quickly, moved by a sudden desire to enlist this +man's sympathy and possible help. "I'm completely in the dark. But I +intend to find out who wrote these things. I suppose"--for a second he +hesitated--"I suppose it isn't in your province to give me any possible +clue as to the identity of the writer?" + +The other laughed rather dryly. + +"I'm not a clairvoyant," he said, "and I can't tell from handling a +letter who wrote it, as the psychometrists profess to be able to do. But +I will tell you one or two points I have noted in connection with these +things." He flicked them rather disdainfully with his finger. "They are +written by a woman--and I should not wonder if that woman were a +foreigner." + +"A foreigner?" Anstice was genuinely surprised. "I say, what makes you +think that? The writing is not foreign." + +"No. You are right there inasmuch as the regulation writing of a +foreigner, French, Italian, Spanish, is fine and pointed in character, +while this is more round, more sprawling and clumsy. But"--he frowned +thoughtfully, and Anstice thought he looked more like Sherlock Holmes +than ever--"there is one point in connection with this last letter which +has evidently not struck you. Suppose you read it through carefully once +more, and see if you can discover something in it which appears a trifle +un-English, so to speak." + +Anstice took the second letter as desired, and read it through +carefully, while Clive watched him with an interest which was not +feigned. Although Anstice had no suspicion of the fact, Clive, who had +travelled in India, had in the light of that letter identified his +visitor directly with the central figure in that bygone tragedy in +Alostan; and although, owing to his absence from England, Clive had not +been one of the experts consulted in the Carstairs case, it was not hard +for him to place the first letter as belonging to that notorious series +of anonymous scrawls which had roused so much interest in the Press a +couple of years before this date. + +Just where the connection between the two cases came Clive could not +discover, but he had always felt a curiously strong sympathy with the +unknown man who had carried out a woman's wish just ten minutes too +soon, and he would willingly have helped Anstice to solve this problem +if he could have seen his way to find the solution. + +Presently Anstice looked up rather apologetically. + +"I'm awfully stupid, but I don't see what you mean about a +foreigner...." + +Clive smiled. + +"Don't you? Well, I'll explain. And after all I may be wrong, you know. +However, here goes." He bent down again and pointed to the word India, +which for some reason was set in inverted commas. "Don't you notice any +peculiarities about these commas? Think of the usual manner in which an +English writer uses them--and note the difference here." + +Anstice studied the word with suddenly keen attention, and instantly +noted the peculiarity of which Clive had spoken. + +"The first double comma, so to speak, is set below the line, and the +other one above. But English writers and printers use both above the +line. Isn't that so?" + +"Yes. Whereas in the majority of French or Italian printing the commas +are set as they are here--a trick which, to my mind, points to the +strong probability, at least, of the writer of this letter being a +foreigner of sorts." + +"Italian! Why----" Suddenly a vision of the woman with the Italian name, +Tochatti, Mrs. Carstairs' personal attendant, flashed into Anstice's +mind, and Clive's eyes grew still keener in expression as he noted the +eager tone in his visitor's voice. + +"Well?" As Anstice paused the expert spoke quickly. "Does the suggestion +convey anything to your mind?" + +"Yes," said Anstice. "It does. But the only Italian--or +half-Italian--person I know, a woman, by the way, is absolutely the last +one I could suspect in the matter." + +"Really?" As he spoke Clive removed his eyeglasses once more and stared +with his brilliant eyes at the other man's face. "Don't forget that in +cases like these it is generally the last person to be suspected who +turns out to be the one responsible. Of course I don't know the facts of +the case, and my suggestions are therefore of little practical value. At +the same time the very fact that you are able at once to identify an +Italian in the case----" + +"She is not altogether Italian," said Anstice slowly. "She's a +half-breed, so to speak--and I really can't in fairness suspect her, +devoted as she is to Mrs. Carstairs----" + +He broke off abruptly, annoyed with himself for having betrayed so much; +but Clive's manner suddenly became more animated. + +"See here, Dr. Anstice." He sat down again, and handed his cigarette +case to his visitor. "May I be frank with you?" + +"Certainly." He accepted a cigarette and Clive resumed immediately. + +"I think I am correct in assuming that the first letter is one of those +supposed--by some people--to have been written by Mrs. Carstairs, wife +of Major Carstairs of the Indian Army?" + +"Yes." It would have been folly to deny the correctness of the +assumption. + +"Well, I was not professionally interested in the case, but all along I +have had very grave doubts as to the course of justice in that unhappy +affair. And I have always thought the sentence was unjustifiably +severe." + +Anstice's face cleared, and his manner lost its first stiffness. + +"I am glad to hear you say so," he said heartily. "For my own part I am +perfectly convinced Mrs. Carstairs was absolutely innocent in the +matter. You see, I have the privilege of her acquaintance, and it would +be quite impossible for her to stoop to so low and degrading an action." + +"Just so." For a second the expert wondered whether Dr. Anstice's +interest in Mrs. Carstairs arose from a purely personal dislike to see +an innocent woman unjustly accused or from some warmer feeling; but +after all it was no concern of his, and he dismissed that aspect of the +case from his mind for the present. "But I should like to ask you to +explain one thing to me. Would it have been possible for this Italian +woman of whom you speak to have written those former letters? I gather +that it is not altogether impossible, though I daresay improbable, for +her to be connected with this last one; but of course, if she must be +acquitted of any hand in the first, the clue drops to the ground at +once." + +"Well"--for a second Anstice hesitated, then resolved to speak plainly. +"To tell you the truth, it would have been quite possible for her to be +mixed up in both affairs--save for one thing. The woman, is a servant in +the household of Mrs. Carstairs; but she's not only absolutely devoted +to her mistress, but is also unable to write even her name." + +"What proof have you of that?" The question shot out so abruptly that +Anstice was genuinely startled. + +"Proof? Well, the woman herself admits it, and certainly she has never +been seen to write so much as a word----" + +"That does not prove she could not write quite well if she wished to," +said Clive quietly. "People do strange things in this queer world of +ours, Dr. Anstice, as I expect you know considerably better than I do. +Have you never had an hysterical patient who declared she could not walk +and after being carried about for months has been discovered dancing a +fandango in her bedroom on the sly?" + +He laughed and threw away his cigarette. + +"Perhaps that's not quite a typical case, but you must have known of +many people who declare they have lost the use of one or more of their +faculties--possibly in order to gain sympathy from their friends?" + +"Quite so." Anstice could not but admit the fact. "But as you say, in +these cases there is generally some definite object to be gained, even +if it is only the desire for sympathy. In this case, however, the motive +appears to be lacking, for I gather that long before the anonymous +letters began to arrive this woman had admitted her inability to handle +pen or pencil." + +"Really? That complicates matters a little," said Clive thoughtfully. +"Though, of course, if the woman were a schemer it is possible she might +prepare the way, so to speak, for some time beforehand. In any case it +is an interesting problem. But I don't quite see why this +woman--supposing it to be she--? should start another campaign, +directed, this time, against you. Surely she can't want her mistress, to +whom you say she is devoted, to be suspected once more?" + +"I don't know--I confess it is a problem beyond my powers to solve," +said Anstice rather hopelessly; and Clive answered at once, with a kind +note in his voice. + +"Don't say that, Dr. Anstice. All sorts of mysteries have come to light +sooner or later, you know, and it is quite on the cards this one may be +easier to solve than you think at present. At any rate, if I may give +you a word of advice, keep your eye on the Italian woman. I'll swear +those inverted commas are of foreign origin, and as a doctor you ought +to be able to find some way of penetrating through any imposition in the +way of pretence." + +"Thanks," said Anstice, rather amused at this tribute to his powers. +"I'll do my best. Anyway, you have given me valuable help, and I'll +follow up this clue at once." + +"Do--and let me know the result." Clive followed his visitor to the +door. "I really am genuinely interested in the case, and I shall be +pleased to hear from you how things progress." + +They parted on mutually cordial terms, and an Anstice walked away he +began to feel as though, after all, this mystery might yet be solved; +though he was bound to confess that at present the introduction of +Tochatti's name merely complicated matters. + +He had a couple of hours to fill in before repairing to the station, and +feeling in the mood for exercise, he set out for a brisk walk, careless +of whither his steps led him while he pondered over his recent interview +with Clive. + +After the quiet and pastoral solitude of Littlefield London seemed +unpleasantly crowded and noisy. The reek of petrol was a poor substitute +for the clean country air, and the hoot of innumerable motors and 'buses +struck on his ear with new and singularly disagreeable force as he took +his way along Piccadilly. + +Suddenly a noise considerably louder and more ominous than the rest +penetrated his hearing, and looking hastily round he saw that a +collision had taken place between a taxi-cab and a motor-van bearing the +name of a well-known firm in Oxford Street--with apparently tragic +results to the taxi-cab, which lurched in the road like a drunken man +vainly attempting to steer a straight course, and eventually toppled +half over on to the pavement, where it struck a lamp-post with a +terrific crash as it came to rest. + +With the rapidity peculiar to the life of cities a crowd instantly began +to assemble; and as a burly policeman, notebook in hand, pushed through +the people, a middle-aged gentleman stepped, with some difficulty, out +of the wrecked cab, and stumbled forward on to the kerb, almost into the +arms of Anstice, who reached the spot at the same moment and caught him +as he staggered and seemed about to fall. + +"Hold up, sir!" Anstice involuntarily gripped the gentleman's shoulder +to support him; and his friendly tone and prompt help apparently assured +the other man, who pulled himself together pluckily. + +"Thanks, thanks!" He was white, and evidently had been somewhat upset, +for the taxi had swerved half across the road to the discomfort of its +occupant. "You are most kind. I am really not hurt, only a little +shaken. The driver of the van was entirely to blame--I hope, constable, +you will make all possible inquiries into the matter." + +As a first step towards doing so the policeman stolidly requested the +speaker's name and address, and these having been furnished he proceeded +to interrogate the van-driver and the taxi-man, both of whom were only +too ready to pour out voluble explanations, each accusing the other of +carelessness with a freedom of language only known, apparently, to those +who have intimate acquaintance with the dark ways of motors and their +accompanying vices. + +In the meantime the middle-aged gentleman turned to Anstice with a word +of gratitude for his timely support. + +"You're sure you're not hurt?" Anstice thought the other man looked +oddly white. "I'm a doctor--and if I can do anything for you----" + +"No, I'm really all right, thanks." He relinquished Anstice's arm, which +he had been unconsciously holding, and looked round him. "By good luck +I'm opposite my club, and if this fellow has finished with me I'll go in +and sit down." + +The constable intimated that he had no further need of him for the +moment; and having asserted his readiness to appear in court in +connection with the case he turned back to Anstice. + +"Will you come in and have a peg with me?" His invitation was cordial. +"I'm all alone--just back from India, and if you can spare five minutes, +I'll be glad of your company." + +"Thanks." Anstice was curiously attracted towards the man. "I'm killing +time, waiting for a train, and I'll come with pleasure." + +They went up the steps of the building outside which the accident had +occurred; and five minutes later his new friend, brushed and tidied, +every speck of dust removed from his well-cut suit, led him to a +comfortable corner of the smoking-room and invited him to take a seat, +calling to a waiter as they sat down. + +"What will you drink--whisky-and-soda? Right--I'll have the same--a +large whisky for me," he said, as the man moved away. "I really feel as +though I want a stiff drink," he added, rather apologetically, to +Anstice. + +"I expect you do--your taxi came a fearful bump on the kerb," said +Anstice, "You were lucky not to get shoved through the window." + +"Yes--it was down, fortunately, or I might have got in quite a nasty +mess with cut glass." He hesitated a moment. "By the way, shall we +exchange cards? Here's mine, at any rate." + +He laughed and pushed the slip of pasteboard over to Anstice, who +returned the courtesy before picking it up. But as the latter glanced at +it perfunctorily, with no premonition of the surprise in store for him, +the name he read thereon sent a sudden thrill through his veins; and he +uttered a quite involuntary exclamation which caused his companion to +look up in amazement. + +For by one of those strange coincidences which happen every day, yet +never lose their strangeness, the man who sat opposite to Anstice on +this murky November afternoon was Chloe Carstairs' husband, Major +Carstairs. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +For a moment his _vis-à-vis_ regarded him with a very natural surprise. +Then: + +"You seem a little astonished," he said, with a hint of stiffness in his +manner. "May I ask if my name is familiar to you? I don't think I +remember yours--though"--he stole another glance at the card, and his +brows drew together a little thoughtfully--"Now that I come to look at +it I do seem to have heard it before." + +"I daresay you have, if you have lived in India. Unfortunately, my name +was pretty well known in that country once, for the proverbial nine +days." His voice was a little savage. "But don't trouble about _my_ +name--let me admit at once that yours is perfectly familiar to me." + +He broke off as the waiter approached with their glasses; and until he +had vanished Anstice said no more. Then he continued steadily: + +"You see I am living at present in Littlefield; and I have the honour of +being acquainted with a lady bearing the same name as yourself." + +"You mean my wife?" He spoke calmly; and Anstice found himself admiring +the other's composure. "Then you will be able to give me the latest news +of her and of my little daughter. Has she--Cherry, I mean--quite +recovered from that serious burning accident in September?" + +"Quite, I think." For a second Anstice's heart was sick within him as he +remembered the night on which that accident had taken place; but he +stifled the memory and continued steadily. "She got over it splendidly, +and she is not marked by even the tiniest scar." + +"That's a good thing." Major Carstairs took a drink from the contents of +his glass, and then, setting it down, looked Anstice squarely in the +face. "See here, Dr. Anstice, by a strange coincidence you and I have +been brought together this afternoon, and I should be very much obliged +if you will be kind enough to answer me one or two questions." + +"I am quite ready to answer any questions you may care to ask, Major +Carstairs." Anstice sat upright and pushed aside his glass, and Major +Carstairs began at once. + +"First of all, how long have you been in Littlefield?" + +"A little over twelve months. I went there, to be exact, in September of +last year." + +"I see. And you have been acquainted with Mrs. Carstairs during the +whole of that time?" + +"Not quite. I first met Mrs. Carstairs in the spring, when I was called +in to attend her professionally." + +"I see. As a doctor you will naturally be acquainted with many people in +the neighbourhood; and that being so"--Major Carstairs moistened his +lips and went heroically on--"you are of course familiar with my wife's +story--you know all about those damned anonymous letters--and their +sequel?" + +"Yes." Anstice met his gaze fully. "I know the story, and I am glad of +this opportunity to assure you of my unswerving belief in Mrs. +Carstairs' innocence of the charge brought against her. I hope you don't +consider my assertion uncalled-for," he added hastily. + +For a long moment Major Carstairs said nothing, gazing ahead of him +thoughtfully, and Anstice studied the face of Chloe Carstairs' husband +with deep interest. + +He said to himself that this man was a gentlemen and a man of honour. +There was something about him, something dignified, reserved, a little +sad, which won Anstice's usually jealously-withheld sympathy at once; +and although he had hitherto pictured Major Carstairs as harsh, +unforgiving, narrow-minded, inasmuch as he could not bring himself to +believe his wife innocent of a degrading charge, now that he saw the man +himself, traced the lines in his face which spoke of tragedy, noted the +sadness in his eyes, and heard the gentle note in his voice as he spoke +of Chloe, Anstice was ready to swear that this man had not lightly +disbelieved his wife. + +If he had left her, it had not been done easily. He had surely acted in +accordance with his lights, which would permit no compromise in a matter +of honour; and as he now sat opposite to Major Carstairs, Anstice felt a +strange new respect springing up in his heart for the man who had had +the courage to stand by his inward convictions, however terribly, +tragically mistaken those convictions might have been. + +When at length that long pause ended, Anstice was surprised by the +manner of its ending. + +Major Carstairs leaned across the little table and laid his +square-fingered hand, brown with the suns of India, on Anstice's arm. + +"From the bottom of my heart I thank you for those words," he said +earnestly. "I am glad to know my wife has one friend, at least, in +Littlefield, who is able to believe in her innocence." + +"She has more than one, sir," returned Anstice significantly, as +Carstairs withdrew his hand. "Sir Richard Wayne is as firmly convinced +as I that Mrs. Carstairs has been the victim of a cruel injustice. +And----" + +"Sir Richard? Ah, yes, he was always a true friend to Chloe." He spoke +absently and for a second said no more. Then he suddenly bent forward +resolutely. "Dr. Anstice, I see you are to be trusted. Well, you have +doubtless heard that I left my wife because I could not bring myself to +acquit her of the charge brought against her. I don't know how much you +may have learned, but I give you my word the evidence against her +was--or appeared to be--overwhelming." + +"So I have heard." Anstice's tone was strictly non-committal, and after +a glance at his impassive face Carstairs went on speaking. + +"You must forgive me for reminding you that Mrs. Carstairs never +categorically denied the charges made. That is to say, she implied that +any such denial was, or should be, unnecessary; and it seemed as though +her pride forbade her realizing how unsatisfactory her silence was--to +others." + +"Forgive me, Major Carstairs." Anstice took advantage of a momentary +pause. "May I not just suggest that a categorical denial was +unnecessary? Surely to anyone who knew her, Mrs. Carstairs' silence must +have been sufficient refutation of the charge?" + +He was almost sorry for his impulsive words when he noted their effect. +Major Carstairs' naturally florid complexion turned grey; and his whole +face grew suddenly aged. In that moment Anstice felt that his speech, +with its implied rebuke, had been both impertinent and unjust; yet he +hardly knew how to repair his error without committing still another +breach of good taste. + +Accordingly he said nothing; and after a moment had passed Major +Carstairs spoke with something of an effort. + +"I am glad to see my wife has found a champion in you," he said, with a +smile which Anstice felt to be forced. "And even although as a partisan +of hers you naturally think me cruel and unjust, may I ask you to +believe that I would give years--literally years--of my life to be able +to think myself mistaken in my first judgment of that unhappy affair!" + +The note of passion in the last words moved Anstice powerfully; and he +forgot his own delicate position in a sudden quite unusual desire to +justify himself. + +"Major Carstairs, forgive me if I seem to you impertinent, meddlesome. I +know quite well that this is no business of mine, but--but I know Mrs. +Carstairs, and I know she has been made bitterly unhappy by this +wretched misunderstanding. And I am sure, as sure as I am that you and I +sit here to-day, that she never wrote one word of all those beastly +letters--why, I can almost prove it to you, if you really care for such +proof--and then----" + +He stopped short, arrested by the change in Carstairs' face. His eyes +suddenly blazed with a new and startling fire; and the hand which had +been idly playing with a glass clenched itself into a determined fist. + +"My God, man, what are you saying? If you can prove my wife to be +innocent, why in God's name do you let me sit here in Purgatory?" + +"I ... I said almost----" Anstice positively stammered, so taken by +surprise was he. + +"Well, that's enough to be going on with." Carstairs spoke resolutely. +"Look here, I'll tell you something I meant to keep to myself. For the +last two months--ever since I received my wife's short and formal letter +telling me of Cherry's accident--I've been haunted by the thought that +perhaps after all I was mistaken--frightfully, appallingly mistaken, in +the conclusion I came to at the time of the trial. At first I was +convinced, as you know, that the verdict was the only possible one; and, +although it nearly killed me, I could do nothing but leave her and +return to India alone. But in the last few weeks I have asked myself +whether after all I have not made a terrible mistake. Supposing my wife +were innocent, that her silence were the only possible course open to a +proud and honourable woman ... supposing that a grievous wrong had been +done, and the real writer of those letters allowed to escape scot-free. +Oh, there were endless suppositions once I began to dwell on the +possibility of my wife's absolute ignorance of the vile things ... and +when at last I was able to sail for England I came home with the full +determination to go into the matter once more, to rake up, if necessary, +the whole sad affair from the beginning, and see whether there were not +some other solution to the mystery than the one I was forced to accept +at the time of the trial." + +"You mean that, sir?" Anstice spoke eagerly, and the other man nodded. +"Then I'm bound to say I think it is something more than coincidence +that has brought us together to-day. I'm not a religious fellow, and I +always feel that if there be a God He went back on me years ago in a way +I had not deserved, but I do think that there is something more than +chance in our meeting; and if good comes out of it, and the truth is +brought to light, well"--he laughed with a sudden gaiety that surprised +himself--"I'll forget my old grudge against the Almighty and admit there +is justice in the world after all!" + +"Dr. Anstice," said Carstairs, "I don't understand you. Would you mind +explaining a little more clearly just what you mean? Why should a +meeting between you and me be anything more than the prelude--as I hope +it may be--to a very pleasant friendship? I honour your belief in my +wife, but when you speak of proof----" + +"Look here, Major Carstairs." With a sudden resolve Anstice pulled his +note-case out of his pocket and extracted two sheets of thin paper +therefrom. "You will probably be surprised when I tell you that those +infernal letters have started again, and this time I am the person +honoured by the writer's malicious accusations." + +"The letters have started again? And you are the victim? But----" + +"Well, look at this charming epistle sent to a certain gentleman in +Littlefield a day or two ago." Anstice handed across the letter he had +received from Sir Richard Wayne, and Major Carstairs took the sheet +gingerly, as though afraid of soiling his fingers by mere contact with +the paper. + +He read the letter through, and then looked at Anstice with a new +expression in his eyes, which were so oddly reminiscent of Cherry's +brown orbs. + +"Dr. Anstice, were you the hero of that unfortunate episode in the hills +a few years ago?" + +Anstice nodded. + +"I was the hero, if you put it so. Personally I should say I feel more +like the villain of the piece. That, anyway, is how the writer of this +letter regards me." + +"Oh, that's nonsense." He spoke authoritatively. "You could have done +nothing else, and I think myself you showed any amount of pluck in +carrying out the girl's request. You and I, who have been in India, know +what strange and terrible things happen out there; and I tell you +plainly that if I had been that unfortunate girl's brother, or father, I +should have thanked you from the bottom of my heart for having the +courage to do as you did." + +Now it was Anstice's turn to change colour. These words, so heartily +spoken, spoken, moreover, by a man who knew the world, whose +commendation carried weight by reason of the speaker's position, fell +with an indescribably soothing touch on the sore places in Anstice's +soul, and in that moment his inward wound received its first impetus +towards healing. + +He threw back his head with something of the old proud gesture which was +now so rarely seen, and his voice, as he replied, held a new note of +confidence. + +"Thanks awfully, sir." His manner was almost boyish. "You have no idea +what it means to me to hear you say that. Of course I acted as I did, +meaning it for the best, but things turned out so tragically wrong----" + +"That was not your fault." Major Carstairs' reply was decisive. "And +anyone who ventures to criticize your action proclaims himself a fool. +As for the stupid accusations in this letter, well, I should say no one +would give them a second's credence." + +"Well, I did venture to hope that my few friends would not believe it," +returned Anstice, smiling. "And if I had only myself to consider I +should not bother my head about it. But you see there is someone +else----" + +"You mean Mrs. Carstairs?" His manner was suddenly brisk. "Quite so. Of +course a second series of letters would remind the neighbourhood of the +first. Well, if you can bring yourself to allow me to have that letter I +will submit it to one of those handwriting fellows----" + +Anstice interrupted him abruptly. + +"I've already done so. And the report of the expert I consulted--a +well-known man of the name of Clive--is that both these letters were +written by the same hand." + +"Ah! And did the expert utter any further authoritative dicta on the +matter?" + +"He gave me two--possible--clues." Anstice spoke slowly. "The letters +are, he says, probably written by a woman, and there is a strong +presumption in favour of that woman being a foreigner--for instance"--he +paused--"an Italian." + +"An Italian?" For a second Major Carstairs looked blank. Then a ray of +light illumined his mental horizon. "I say, you're not thinking of my +wife's maid, old Tochatti, are you?" + +"Well"--he spoke deliberately--"to tell you the truth, ever since Clive +suggested a foreigner, I _have_ been wondering whether the woman +Tochatti could have anything to do with the letters." + +"But old Tochatti! Why, she is absolutely devoted to my wife--been with +her for years, ever since she was a child. No, believe me, Dr. Anstice, +you must write Tochatti off the list." + +"Very well." Anstice mentally reserved the right to his own opinion. "As +you say, the woman certainly appears devoted both to Mrs. Carstairs and +the child. But I'm sure you will agree it is wise to leave no clue +uninvestigated in so serious a matter?" + +"Quite so. And you may rest assured the matter shall be thoroughly +investigated. By the way, you said something about a train. Are you +returning to Littlefield to-night?" + +"Yes. And it's time I was moving on," said Anstice, glancing at his +watch. "Shall I have the pleasure of your company on the journey?" + +"Not to-night. I have one or two matters to attend to in town, and I +must write and prepare Mrs. Carstairs for my visit. But I shall +certainly be down shortly, and I hope I may have the pleasure of meeting +you again before very long." + +"I hope we may meet soon," said Anstice heartily, and Major Carstairs +escorted his guest to the steps of the Club, where he took a cordial +farewell of him and stood watching the tall figure swing along +Piccadilly with the stride of an athlete. + +"So that's the fellow there was all the '_gup_' about." Major Carstairs +had heard the story of Hilda Ryder's death discussed a good many times +during his sojourn in India. "A thoroughly decent chap, I should say, +and it's deuced hard luck on him to go through life with a memory of +that sort rankling in his soul. Ah, well, we all have our private +memories--ghosts which haunt us and will not be laid; and at least there +is no disgrace in that story of his. At the worst it could only be +called a miscalculation--a mistake. But what if my mistake has been a +more grievous one--what if Chloe is innocent and I have misjudged her +cruelly? If that should be so," said Major Carstairs, "then my ghost +will never be laid. The man who shot Hilda Ryder will be forgiven for +his too hasty deed. But for a mistake such as mine there could be no +forgiveness." + +And as he turned to re-enter the club his face looked suddenly haggard +and old. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +The more Anstice pondered over the matter of the anonymous letters, the +more inclined he was to believe that the woman Tochatti was one of the +prime movers, if not the sole participator, in the affair. + +Leaving the subject of motive out of the question for the moment, it was +evident that Tochatti, of all the household, would have the most free +access to her mistress' writing-table or bureau; and Anstice knew, +through a chance word, that on the occasion of Mrs. Carstairs' fatal +visit to Brighton, she had been accompanied by her maid. + +True, the woman was supposed, by those around her, to be incapable of +writing, even to the extent of signing her name; but, as the export had +pointed out in the course of the interview, it was not unknown for a +person to deny the possession of some faculty, either from a desire to +gain sympathy or from some other and less creditable reason. + +The question of motive, however, was a more complicated one. Why should +this woman seek to injure her mistress in the first place, and having +done her an irrevocable wrong--always supposing Tochatti to be the +culprit--why should she seek now to bring dishonour on a man who had +never, to his knowledge, done her any harm? + +The thing seemed, on the face of it, absurd; yet somehow Anstice could +not relinquish his very strong notion that Tochatti was in reality at +the bottom of the business, and on the Sunday following his visit to Mr. +Clive he walked over to Greengates to discuss the matter with Sir +Richard Wayne. + +Sir Richard was almost pathetically pleased to see his visitor, for he +missed his pretty daughter sorely, and he welcomed Anstice cordially on +this foggy November afternoon. + +Over their cigars in Sir Richard's cosy sanctum Anstice gave him an +outline of his visit to the handwriting expert and the conclusions to be +drawn therefrom--a narrative to which Sir Richard listened with close +attention; and when Anstice had finished his story the older man took up +the subject briskly. + +"You really think this woman may be implicated? Of course, as you say, +she would have opportunities for tampering with Mrs. Carstairs' +belongings; but still--the question of motive----" + +"I quite realize that difficulty, Sir Richard. But I confess to a very +strong feeling of distrust for the woman since visiting Clive. He +suggested almost at once that the writer was a foreigner, and Tochatti +is about the only foreign, or half-foreign, person in Littlefield, I +should say." + +"Quite so." Sir Richard leaned back in his chair and placed his +finger-tips together in a judicial attitude. "Well, let us consider the +question of motive a little more fully. If the writer really were +Tochatti, we must suppose her to be actuated by some strong feeling. The +question is, what feeling would be sufficiently strong to drive her to a +deed of this nature?" + +He paused; but Anstice, having no suggestion to make, kept silence, and +Sir Richard went on with his speech. + +"Generally speaking, in the character of a woman of a Southern nature, +we find one or two strongly-marked attributes. One is a capacity for +love, equalled only by a capacity for hatred. Of course Tochatti is only +half Italian, but personally I distrust what we may call half-breeds +even more than the real thing. You know the old proverb, 'An Englishman +Italianate He is a devil incarnate'--and I believe there is some truth +in the words." + +"I share your distrust for half-breeds," said Anstice fervently. "And in +this case, although she speaks excellent English as a rule, it always +seems to me that Tochatti is more than half Italian. Do you agree with +me?" + +"I do--and that's why I distrust her," returned Sir Richard grimly. "I +confess I don't like the women of the Latin races--those of the lower +classes, anyway. A woman of that sort who is supplanted by a rival is +about the most dangerous being on the face of the earth. She sticks at +nothing--carries a knife in her garter, a phial of poison in her +handbag, and will quite cheerfully sacrifice her own life if she may +mutilate or destroy the aforesaid hated rival." + +"So I have always understood. But in this case, if you will excuse me +pointing it out, there is no possibility of love entering into it. To +begin with, Tochatti is a middle-aged woman; and of course there could +not be any question of rivalry between her and her mistress." + +"Oh, of course not. I was speaking generally," Sir Richard reminded him. +"But there are other reasons for jealousy besides the primary reason, +love. You know, in the case of these last letters, which are certainly +actuated by some very real spite against you ... why, what's the matter +now?" For Anstice had uttered an exclamation which sounded almost +exultant. + +"By Jove, sir, I believe I've got it--the reason why the woman should +feel spiteful towards me!" In his excitement he threw away his cigar, +half-smoked, and Sir Richard, noting the action, guessed that an +important revelation was at hand. + +"You've got it, eh?" Sir Richard sat upright in his chair. "Well, may I +hear it? It's no secret, I suppose?" + +"Secret? Heavens, no--but how intensely stupid I've been not to think of +it before!" + +"Go on--you're rousing my curiosity," said Sir Richard as Anstice came +to a sudden stop. "Tell me how on earth you have managed to rouse the +woman's spite. Personally, seeing how cleverly you pulled her adored +Cherry through that illness of hers, I should have thought she would +have extended her devotion to you." + +"That's just how the trouble began," rejoined Anstice quickly. "You +remember how the child set herself on fire one night in September?" + +"Yes--on the night before Iris' wedding day." In spite of himself +Anstice winced, and the other man noted the fact and wondered. "Set fire +to herself with a candle, didn't she?" + +"Yes--and Tochatti put out the flames somehow, burning one of her hands +in the process." + +"Did she? I had forgotten that." + +"Yes--with the result that she was not able to take her fair share of +nursing the child, and I accordingly installed a nurse." + +"Yes, I remember--a bonny girl, with a voice as soft as the coo of a +wood-pigeon." + +"Just so. Well, I--or rather Mrs. Carstairs--had a pitched battle with +Tochatti before she would consent to Nurse Trevor being engaged; and the +girl herself told me that the woman did her very best to make her life +unbearable while she was at Cherry Orchard." + +"The deuce she did! But if she were really incapacitated----" + +"She was; but with the unreasonableness of women--some women," he +corrected himself hastily, "she resented her enforced helplessness, and +looking back I can recall very well how she used to scowl at me when I +visited Cherry." + +"Really! You're not imagining it?" + +"I'm not an imaginative person," returned Anstice dryly. "I assure you +it was no fancy of mine. She used to answer any questions I put to her +with a most irritating sullenness; and once or twice even Mrs. Carstairs +reproved her--before me--for her unpleasant manner." + +"You think that would be sufficient to account for the animus against +you displayed in these letters?" + +"Honestly, I do. You see, luckily or unluckily, the child took a great +fancy to Nurse Trevor; and being ill and consequently rather spoilt, she +behaved capriciously towards her former beloved Tochatti--with the +result that the woman hated the nurse--and hated me the more for having +introduced her into the household." + +Sir Richard nodded meditatively. + +"Yes. I see. It hangs together, certainly, and it is quite a feasible +explanation. But what about the nurse? She would be the one against whom +Tochatti might be expected to wreak her spite----" + +"Yes, but you see Nurse Trevor was only a bird of passage, so to speak. +She had come down here from a private nursing home in Birmingham, and +had just finished nursing a case when I wanted her; and after Cherry was +better she returned to Birmingham; so that the woman would probably have +had a good deal of trouble in getting on her track." + +"Quite so. You, being at hand, were a more likely victim. Upon my soul, +it almost looks as though you were right. Still, even this does not +explain why she should ruin Chloe's life." + +"No, I admit that. But don't you think if we could bring this last +crime--for it is a crime--home to the Italian woman we could wring a +confession out of her concerning the first series of letters?" + +"Yes, that is quite possible. The question is, How are we going to bring +it home to her? At present we have no clue beyond the specialist's +opinion that the writer is a foreigner." + +"No, and it's going to be a hard nut to crack," said Anstice +thoughtfully. "But it shall be cracked all the same. What do you say to +taking Mrs. Carstairs into our confidence, Sir Richard? Of course the +idea will be a shock to her at first; but if the matter could be cleared +up, think what a difference it would make to her!" + +"Yes, indeed!" Sir Richard agreed heartily. "And to her husband as well. +You know, Major Carstairs is a man with a rather peculiar code of +honour; and you must not run away with the idea that because he refuses +to believe in his wife's innocence he is necessarily a narrow-minded +or--or callous person." + +"I don't," said Anstice quickly. "By the way I've not told you all that +happened the day I was in town. By a curious coincidence I met Major +Carstairs----" + +"What, is he in England again?" + +"Yes." Anstice related the particulars of the meeting between them, and +repeated, so far as he could remember it, the substance of the +subsequent conversation in the club. "So you see, Sir Richard, Major +Carstairs is not only ready, but longing, to be convinced of his wife's +innocence in the matter." + +"Good! That's capital!" Sir Richard beamed. "If once Chloe can be led to +understand that her husband will believe in her one day she will be +ready to help us to prove her innocence. You know I have sometimes +thought that if she had taken up a rather more human, more feminine +attitude, had relinquished the pride which forbade her to protest loudly +against the injustice which was done her, she might have been better off +in the end. It is very hard fighting for a woman who won't fight for +herself; and that idea of hers that if her own personal character were +not enough to prove her blameless of so vile a charge nothing else was +worth trying--well, it was the attitude of conscious innocence, no +doubt, but it was certainly above the heads of a conscientious, but +particularly unintelligent jury!" + +He put down the stump of his cigar, which unlike Anstice he had smoked +to the end, and looked at the other man with a kindly eye. + +"Look here, Anstice, why shouldn't we go--you and I--to visit Mrs. +Carstairs now?" + +"Now?" Anstice was somewhat taken aback at the proposal. + +"Yes. Why not? There's no time like the present. It is barely six +o'clock, and she will certainly be at home." + +"But--won't she be at church?" Anstice felt suddenly unwilling to go +into the matter with the mistress of Cherry Orchard. + +"Not she! Don't you know Chloe only goes to church once in a blue moon?" +Sir Richard laughed breezily. "I don't blame her--I expect she feels she +owes Providence a grudge--but anyway she will be at home to-night. +And--another inducement--Tochatti will almost certainly be at _her_ +church. Those Catholics are a queer lot," said Sir Richard, who was a +Protestant of the old school. "They will cheat you and lie to you--aye, +and half murder you, on a Saturday night--and turn up at Mass without +fail on Sunday morning!" + +"Yes, I know Tochatti does go to the Roman Catholic chapel at night," +owned Anstice rather reluctantly. "Well, sir, if you really think the +moment is propitious let us go by all means. After all, it is just +possible Mrs. Carstairs may have had suspicions of Tochatti herself." + +"Yes. I remember Iris often used to say she distrusted the woman--don't +know why. I never paid much attention to her caprices," said Sir Richard +with a smile; and Anstice made haste to seize the opportunity thus +offered. + +"Ah--by the way, what news have you of your daughter?" He could not call +her by the name he hated. "She is still in Egypt, I suppose?" + +"Yes. She and Bruce are somewhere in the Fayoum at present--he has been +engaged on some irrigation job for a rich Egyptian of sorts, and he and +Iris have been camping out in the desert--quite a picnic they seem to +have had." + +"Really?" For the life of him he could not speak naturally; but Sir +Richard was merciful and ignored his strained tone. + +"They sent me some photographs--snapshots--last week," said Sir Richard. +"Would you care to see them? I have them here somewhere." + +He opened a drawer as he spoke, and after rummaging in the contents for +a few moments drew out half a dozen small prints which he handed to +Anstice, saying: + +"Amateur, of course--but quite good, all the same. Oh, by the way"--he +spoke with elaborate carelessness--"how did you come? Are you walking, +or have you the car?" + +"The car? No, I walked--wanted exercise," said Anstice rather vaguely; +and Sir Richard nodded. + +"Then we'll have out the little car, and you shall drive us over if you +will. And if you'll excuse me for a moment I'll just go and order it +round." + +He waited for no reply, but bustled out of the room as though in sudden +haste; and left to himself Anstice turned over the little photographs he +held and studied them with eager eyes. + +Four of them were of Iris--happy little studies of her in delightfully +natural poses. In one she was standing bare-headed beneath a tall +date-palm, shading her eyes with her hand as though looking for someone +across the expanse of sunny sand before her. In another she stood by the +edge of the Nile, in converse with a native woman who bore a _balass_ on +her head; and even the tiny picture was sufficiently large to bring out +the contrast between the slim, fair English girl in her white gown and +Panama hat and the dusky Egyptian, whose dark skin and closely-swathed +robes gave her the look of some Old Testament character, a look borne +out by the surroundings of reed-fringed river and plumy, tufted palms. +In the third photograph Iris was on horseback; but it was the fourth and +last which brought the blood to Anstice's brow, made his heart beat +quickly with an emotion in which delight, regret, wild happiness and +over-mastering sorrow fought for the predominance. + +It was a photograph of Iris' head, nothing more; but it brought out +every separate charm with an art which seemed to bring the living girl +before the man who pored over the print with greedy eyes. + +She was looking straight out from the photograph and in her face was +that look of half-laughing, half-wistful tenderness which Anstice knew +so well. Her lips were ever so slightly parted; and in her whole +expression was something so vital as to be almost startling, as though +some tinge of the sitter's personality had indeed been caught by the +camera and imprisoned for ever in the picture. It was Iris as Anstice +knew--and loved--her best: youth personified, yet with a womanliness, a +gracious femininity, which seemed to promise a more than commonly +attractive maturity. + +And as he looked at the little picture, the presentment of the girl he +loved caught and imprisoned by the magic of the sun, Anstice felt the +full bitterness of his hopeless love surge over his soul in a flood +whose onrush no philosophy could stem. To him Iris would always be the +one desired woman in the world. No other woman, be she a hundred times +more beautiful, could ever fill the place held in his heart by this +grey-eyed girl. With her, life would have been a perpetual feast, a +lingering sacrament. Her companionship would have been sufficient to +turn the dull fare of ordinary life into the mysterious Bread and Wine +which only lovers know; and with her beside him there had been no +heights to which he might not have attained, no splendour of +achievement, of renown, even of renunciation, which might not have been +reached before the closing cadence which is death had ended, +irrevocably, the symphony of life. + +But not for him was this one supreme glory, the glory of an existence +spent with her. She had chosen otherwise--for one fiercely rebellious +moment he told himself he had been a fool, and worse, to enter on that +infamous bargain with Bruce Cheniston--and henceforth he must put away +all thoughts of her, must banish his dreams to that mysterious region +where our lost hopes lie--never, so far as we can see, to come to +fruition; unless, as some have thought, there shall be in another world +a great and marvellous country where lost causes shall be retrieved, +forlorn hopes justified, and the thousand and one pitiful mistakes we +make in our earthly blindness rectified at last. + + * * * * * + +The door opened suddenly, and Sir Richard's voice smote cheerily on his +ears. + +"I've got the car, Anstice, and if you are ready----" + +Anstice hastily replaced the photographs, face downwards on the table, +and turned to Sir Richard with a trace of confusion in his manner. + +"The car there? Oh, yes, I'm ready. You would like me to drive?" + +"If you will--then Fletcher can stop at home. You'll come back to dinner +with me, of course." + +With some haste Anstice excused himself; and after a courteous +repetition of the invitation Sir Richard did not press the matter. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Carstairs was at home, and alone; and in a moment the two men were +ushered into her pretty drawing-room, where she sat, book in hand, over +a dancing wood-fire. + +She looked up in some surprise as the door opened to admit visitors; but +on seeing Sir Richard she rose with a welcoming smile. + +"Sir Richard! How good of you to take pity on me on a day like this!" +She greeted the old man with almost daughterly affection; and then +turned to Anstice with a rather forced expression of cordiality. + +"You, too, Dr. Anstice! How sorry Cherry will be to have missed you!" + +"Is she in bed, then?" + +"Yes, I'm sorry to say she was a naughty girl and was put to bed +immediately after tea!" She laughed a little, and Anstice asked, +smiling, what had been the extent of Cherry's latest misdemeanour. + +"Oh, nothing very serious," said Chloe lightly. "It was really to soothe +Tochatti's wounded feelings that I had to banish the poor child. It +seems that one day last week, while out walking with Tochatti, Cherry +noticed a house in the village with all its blinds down; and on +inquiring the reason Tochatti informed her that someone was dead in the +house; further entering, so I gather, into full details as to the manner +in which Catholics decorate the death-chamber." + +"Oh?" Anstice looked rather blank. "But I don't see----" + +"Well, it seems the idea fired Cherry's imagination; and this morning, +when Tochatti returned from High Mass about noon, she found the blinds +pulled down in all the front windows of the house!" + +"The little monkey!" Sir Richard laughed. "I'll wager the woman got a +fright!" + +"She certainly did, and matters were not improved by Cherry coming to +meet her with her face quite wet with tears--you know Cherry is a born +actress--and begging her, between sobs, to come upstairs softly as +someone was dead!" + +"Someone? She did not specify who it was?" + +"No--or if she did Tochatti did not understand; but when she got into +the nursery she found an elaborately conceived representation of a +Catholic death-bed--flowers, bits of candle, and so on; and Cherry's +very biggest doll--the one you gave her, by the way, Dr. +Anstice--enacting the part of the corpse!" + +Even Anstice's mood was not proof against the humour of the small +child's pantomime; and both he and Sir Richard laughed heartily. + +"And Tochatti took it amiss?" Sir Richard put the question amid his +laughter. + +"Yes. It seems she had really had a bad fright; and on finding Cherry in +tears she never doubted that some tragedy had occurred!" + +"So you had to punish the poor mite for her realism!" + +"Yes. Tochatti waited for me to return--I was out motoring--and then +hauled the culprit before me; and although I really didn't see much harm +in poor little Cherry's joke I was obliged, in order to pacify Tochatti, +to sentence her to go to bed early--a special punishment on Sunday, +when, as a rule, she sits up quite late!" + +"I almost wonder," said Anstice slowly, "that Tochatti, devoted as she +is to Cherry, could bring herself to give the child away. One would have +expected her to hush up any small misdeeds, not dwell upon them to the +powers that be." + +Chloe looked at him with a hint of cynicism in her eyes. + +"Even Tochatti is human," she said, "and when one has had a fright one's +natural impulse, on being reassured, is to scold somebody. Besides, +Tochatti, in her way, is implacable. She never forgives what she really +considers an injury." + +These words, fitting in so curiously with their conversation a little +earlier, caused the men to glance surreptitiously at one another; but +Chloe, whose eyes were as sharp as her wits, intercepted the look. + +"Sir Richard, why do you and Dr. Anstice look at one another?" She put +the question directly, with her usual frankness; and Sir Richard met +candour with candour. + +"I will tell you in a moment, Chloe. First of all, I will admit that our +visit here to-night was made with a purpose. We came here to ask you one +or two questions which I feel sure you will answer as fully as +possible." + +"Certainly I will." Her manner had lost its animation and once more she +wore the marble mask which as a rule hid the real woman from the world's +gaze. "But won't you sit down? And if a cigarette will help you in your +cross-examination----" + +She sat down herself as she spoke, and Sir Richard followed her example; +but Anstice remained standing on one side of the fireplace; and after a +glance at his face Chloe did not repeat her invitation. + +Rather to Sir Richard's surprise Chloe did not wait for him to begin +questioning her; but put a question to him on her own account. + +"Sir Richard, has your visit anything to do with certain letters +received lately by several people in Littlefield?" + +Both the men, genuinely taken aback, stared at her in silence; and with +a faint smile she proceeded quietly. + +"Well, _I_ have heard of those letters, anyway. In fact"--she paused +dramatically before making her _coup_--"I've received one myself!" + +"You have?" Anstice's voice was full of dismay. + +"Yes. And I gather, from a short conversation I had with Mr. Carey last +evening, that there have been several more of the things flying about +this week." + +"Well"--Sir Richard looked rather helplessly at Anstice--"in that case +there is no need to make a mystery of it. Yes, Chloe, we did call here +to-night to talk over those abominable letters, and to see if you can +possibly help us to follow up a rather extraordinary clue." + +"A clue!" Chloe's eyes suddenly blazed. + +"Yes. That is to say--possible clue." Sir Richard hedged a little. "But +Anstice can tell you the story better than I can." + +"Will you, please, tell me, Dr. Anstice?" She turned to him, grave again +now; and he complied at once, giving her a full account of his visit to +Clive, and relating at length the expert's opinion on the letters. + +She heard him out in silence; her almond-shaped eyes on his face; and +Anstice omitted nothing of the happenings of that day in town, save his +unexpected meeting with her husband in Piccadilly. + +When he had finished Chloe sat quite still for a moment, saying nothing; +and neither of the men dreamed of hurrying her. + +At last: + +"But, Dr. Anstice--_Tochatti_! Why, she has been with me for years--ever +since I was a child like Cherry!" + +Her voice was so full of incredulity that for a moment both her hearers +wondered suddenly how they could have accepted the possibility of +Tochatti's guilt so readily. But Anstice's common sense reasserted +itself immediately; and he knew that the mere fact of Mrs. Carstairs' +unbelief did not really materially alter the main issue. It was natural +she should be surprised, unwilling to believe evil of the woman who, +whatever her faults, had served her faithfully; but this was no time for +sentimentality; and he replied to Chloe's last speech rather +uncompromisingly. + +"Even the fact that she has been with you for years does not preclude +the possibility of her doing this thing," he said. "Of course I can +understand you would hesitate to believe her capable of such wickedness, +but----" + +"But why should Tochatti wish to work me harm?" Her blue eyes were full +of a kind of hurt wonder. "And these last letters directed against you, +Dr. Anstice--why on earth should she have any spite against you?" + +"Dr. Anstice tells me she much resented the presence of the hospital +nurse in the house," chimed in Sir Richard. "Of course she has always +been absurdly jealous of any claim to Cherry's affection--even Iris +noticed that and used to say she hardly dared to pet the child before +Tochatti." + +"Yes." Chloe assented reluctantly. "That is quite true. She has always +been jealous; and I confess I once or twice saw her look at Dr. Anstice +with a--well, rather malignant expression. But I thought it was only a +passing jealousy; and judged it best to take no notice." + +"Of course all this is very largely conjectural," said Anstice slowly. +"Such evidence as we have is purely circumstantial; and wouldn't hang a +cat. But I admit that Mr. Clive's suggestion carries weight with me; and +it is certainly odd that he should have mentioned an Italian as the +possible author of the letters when there is a person of that +nationality--more or less--in the house." + +"Yes. I can see that for myself." Chloe's voice was low. "But to be +quite candid, I don't see how it would be possible to bring the letters +home to Tochatti. To begin with, she can't write." + +"Or pretends she can't. You must remember, Mrs. Carstairs, we have only +the woman's own word for that." + +"I certainly never remember seeing her with a pen in her hand," said +Chloe, "though of course that's no real proof. But if this horrible idea +is correct how are you going to prove it? You don't intend to tackle +Tochatti herself, I suppose?" + +"Not for the world," said Anstice hastily. "That would be a fatal +mistake. A woman who is clever enough to carry on an intrigue of this +kind without incurring suspicion is sufficiently clever to answer any +direct questioning satisfactorily. No. If Tochatti is the culprit--mind +you I only say if--she must be caught with guile, made to commit herself +somehow, or be taken red-handed in the act----" He broke off suddenly; +and the other two looked at him in surprise. + +"Well, Anstice, what's struck you now?" Sir Richard's tone was eager. + +"Only this. Is your writing-table always open to access, Mrs. Carstairs? +I mean, you don't lock up your ink and pens, and so on?" + +"No," she said, catching the drift of his questions at once. "Anyone in +the house could sit down here to write and be sure of finding everything +at hand." + +"Just so--and unless the person who wrote was considerate enough to use +the blotting-paper you would not know anyone had touched your things." + +"No--unless they were left strewn untidily about." + +"Which they would not be. Now, Mrs. Carstairs, to speak quite plainly, +what is there to prevent Tochatti, or any other member of your +household, creeping downstairs at the dead of night and making use of +those pens and sheets of paper which you so obligingly leave about for +anyone to play with?" + +"Nothing," she said with a smile. "But unless you propose that I should +sit up behind the curtains all night to see if some mysterious person +does creep down----" + +"That's just what I was going to propose," he said coolly. "At least I +wasn't suggesting that you should be the person; but you might allow +someone else to sit there on your behalf. You see, if Tochatti is really +the mysterious writer she would not like to run the risk of keeping pens +and ink in her own room where some prying eyes might light upon them +sooner or later. It would be much less incriminating to use another +person's tools, and it is quite possible many, if not all, of those +beastly letters were written at this very table!" + +The conviction in his tone brought forth a protest from Chloe. + +"Dr. Anstice, have you really made up your mind that my poor Tochatti is +the criminal? It seems to me that your evidence is very flimsy--after +all some uneducated person might quite easily put those inverted commas +wrong without being a foreigner; and I still disbelieve in Tochatti's +power to write. Besides"--she paused a moment--"she has always served me +with so much devotion. She is not perfect, I know, but none of us is +that; and I have never, never seen anything in her manner which would +lead me to suppose her to be the hypocrite, the ungrateful, heartless +creature you seem to imply she is." + +Listening to Chloe's words, watching the clear colour flood the marble +whiteness of her cheeks, Anstice was struck by the curious contrast +between this generous championship of a woman who had served her and her +utter indifference and lack of all protest when it was her own innocence +which was in question. In defence of her servant she spoke warmly, +vehemently, unwilling apparently, to allow even mere acquaintances to +look upon the woman as unworthy; yet she had rarely expressed in words +her own entire innocence of the disgraceful charge which had been made +against her; and had suffered the cruel injustice meted out to her +without allowing its iron to enter into her soul. + +And as he watched and listened Anstice told himself that there was +something of nobility in this reluctance to accept her own acquittal at +the cost of another's condemnation; yet his determination to see her +righted never wavered; and he answered her impassioned speech in a cool +and measured tone. + +"Mrs. Carstairs, I think you will agree with me that the person who was +capable of carrying out such a gigantic piece of deceit, carrying it +through to the extent of allowing an innocent person to be found guilty +for her offence, must be capable of a good deal more in the way of +hypocrisy. I don't say for certain that your maid has written these +letters; I don't yet know enough to convict her, or anyone else; but I +do say that if it were she who stood by and allowed you to suffer for +her wickedness, well, she is fully capable of living with you on terms +of apparently, the most respectful devotion--and hating you in her heart +all the while." + +"But why should she hate me?" Chloe's tone expressed an almost childish +wonder; and Sir Richard, who had been watching her uneasily, rose from +his seat and patted her shoulder reassuringly. + +"There, there, don't distress yourself, my dear!" His tone was fatherly. +"After all, we only want to clear up this mystery for your sake. I +daresay Anstice would be quite willing to let the matter drop if he +alone were concerned----" + +"Ah! I had forgotten that!" She turned to him with contrition in her +blue eyes. "Dr. Anstice, please forgive me! In my selfishness I was +quite forgetting that you were a victim of this unknown person's spite! +Of course the matter must be sifted to the very bottom; and if Tochatti +is indeed guilty she must be punished." + +"I think you are quite right, Chloe." Sir Richard spoke with unexpected +decision. "For all our sakes the matter must be cleared up. You see"--he +hesitated--"there are others to be considered besides ourselves." + +"My husband, for one," said Chloe unexpectedly. "I heard from him this +morning--he is back in England again now." + +"Mrs. Carstairs"--Anstice, feeling desperately uncomfortable, broke into +the conversation abruptly--"may I go upstairs and say good-night to +Cherry? You know I got into serious trouble for not going up the last +time I was here." + +She turned to him, smiling. + +"Of course you may, Dr. Anstice. I know Cherry would be heart-broken to +hear you had gone without seeing her. You know the way?" + +"Yes, thanks." He had grown familiar with the house during the weeks of +Cherry's illness. "I won't stay long--and I'll not wake her if she's +asleep." + +She was not asleep, however; and her face lighted with pleasure as +Anstice stole quietly in. + +"Oh, do come in, my dear!" She sat up in bed, a quaint little figure +with two thick brown plaits, tied with cherry-coloured ribbons, over her +shoulders. "I'm just about fed up with this stupid old bed!" + +She thumped her pillows resentfully; and Anstice, coming up, sat down +beside her, and beat up the offending pillows with the mock professional +touch which Cherry adored. + +"That better, eh?" + +"Rather!" She leaned back luxuriously. "Wasn't it a shame sending me to +bed to-day? And I hadn't really done nothing!" The intensity of the +speech called for the double negation. + +"Well, I don't know what you call nothing," returned Anstice, smiling. +"Apparently you'd given poor Tochatti a terrible fright----" + +"Serve her right," said Cherry placidly. "She shouldn't have been so +silly as to think any _real_ person was dead. She might have known all +the servants would have been howling on the doorstep _then_!" + +The tone in which she made this remarkable statement was too much for +Anstice's gravity; and he gave way to a fit of unrestrained laughter +which mightily offended his small friend. + +"I don't see anything to laugh at," she observed icily. "Seems to me +people being dead ought to make you cry 'stead of laugh." + +"Quite so, Cherry," returned Anstice, wiping his eyes ostentatiously. +"But you see in this case there wasn't anybody dead--at least, so I +understood from Mrs. Carstairs." + +"Yes, there was, then," returned Cherry, still unforgiving. "I'd gone +and killed my best-b'loved Lady Daimler"--christened from her mother's +car--"on purpose to make a pretty death-bed for Tochatti--and then she +simply flew into a temper--oh, a most _dreadful_ temper, my dear!" At +the thought of Tochatti's anger she forgave Anstice's lesser offence, +and took him once more into her favour. + +"That was too bad, especially as I'm sure Tochatti doesn't, often lose +her temper with you," said Anstice with some guile; and Cherry looked at +him gravely, without speaking. + +"Not with me," she announced presently. "But Tochatti gets awful cross +sometimes. She used to be fearful angry with Nurse Marg'ret. Where's +Nurse Marg'ret now, my dear?" + +"Don't know, Cherry. I suppose she is nursing someone else by this time. +Why do you want to know?" + +"'Cos I like Nurse Marg'ret," said Cherry seriously. "Tochatti didn't. +She made a wax dollie of her once, and she only does that when she +doesn't like peoples." + +"A wax dollie?" Anstice was honestly puzzled. "My dear child, what do +you mean?" + +"She did," said Cherry stoutly. "She maded an image like what they have +in their churches, because I saw her do it--out of a candle, and then +she got a great long pin and stuck it in the gas and runned it into the +little dollie." As Cherry grew excited her speech became slightly +unintelligible. "And I know it was Nurse Marg'ret 'cos she wrote a great +big 'M' on a bit of paper and pinned it on to show who it was meant +for." + +Her words made an instant and very unexpected impression on her hearer; +not alone as a revelation of Tochatti's mediæval fashion of revenging +herself upon an unconscious rival--though this method of revenge was +amazing in the twentieth century--but as a strangely apt confirmation of +those doubts and suspicions which had been gathering round the Italian +woman in Anstice's mind during the last few days. + +If Cherry had spoken truly--and there was no reason to think the child +was lying--then Tochatti's supposed inability to write was an error; and +once that fact were proved it should not, surely, be difficult to +unravel the mystery which had already caused so much unhappiness. + +But first he must make sure. + +"Tell me, Cherry"--he spoke lightly--"how did you see all this? Surely +Tochatti didn't show you what she was doing?" + +"No." For a second Cherry looked abashed; then her spirit returned to +her and she spoke boldly. "It was one night when Nurse Marg'ret had +gone to bed--she was awful tired, and Tochatti said she'd sit up with +me ... and I was cross, 'cos I didn't want her, I wanted Nurse Marg'ret," +said Cherry honestly, "so I wouldn't speak to her, though she tried ever +so hard to make me, and she thought I'd gone to sleep, and I heard her +say something in 'talian.... I 'spect it was something naughty, 'cos she +sort of hissed it, like a nasty snake once did at me when I was a teeny +baby in Injia," said Cherry lucidly, "and then she looked up to be sure +I was asleep, so I shutted my eyes ever so tight, and then she made the +wax dollie and I watched her do it." Wicked Cherry chuckled gleefully at +the remembrance. + +"But the letter 'M'--how do you know she wrote that?" Anstice put the +question very quietly. + +"'Cos she couldn't find nothin' to write with, so she crept into Nurse +Marg'ret's room next through mine and came back with her pen--one of +those things what has little ink-bottles inside them," said Cherry, +referring, probably, to the nurse's beloved "Swan." "And I watched her +ever so close, 'cos I wanted to see what she was going to do, and she +wrote a big 'M' on a bit of paper and pinned it into the dollie----" + +"Into?" For a moment Anstice was puzzled. + +"Yes, 'cos you see the dollie was all soft and squeezy," explained +Cherry obligingly, "and it hadn't got no clothes on to pin it to, so it +had to go into the soft part of the dollie." + +"I see. But"--Anstice was still puzzled--"why do you say the dollie was +meant for Nurse Margaret? Mightn't it have been somebody else?" + +"No--'cos when Tochatti hates anyone she makes wax dollies end sticks +pins into them," returned Cherry calmly. "I know, 'cos she once told me +about a girl she knew what wanted somebody to die, and she did that and +the person died." + +"Oh, my dear little Cherry, what nonsense!" Anstice, whose mother had +been an Irishwoman, had heard of the superstition before, had even known +an old crone in a little Irish cabin high up in the mountains who had, +so it was said, practised the rite with success; but to hear the unholy +gospel from Cherry's innocent lips was distinctly distasteful; and +instinctively he tried to shake her faith in Tochatti's teaching. + +"'Tisn't nonsense--at least I don't think so," said Cherry, rather +dubiously. "Of course Nurse Marg'ret didn't die.... I don't think she +even got ill--but p'raps Tochatti didn't stick the pins in far 'nuff." + +"Well, I'm quite sure if she stuck in all the pins out of your +cherry-tree pincushion it wouldn't affect Nurse Margaret or anybody +else," said Anstice, putting his arm round her shoulders as he spoke. +"And you really mustn't get such silly notions into your head, Cherry +Ripe!" + +"That's what Iris used to call me," said Cherry, burrowing her head +contentedly into his neck. "I wish she was back, don't you, my dear? +Somehow things don't seem half such fun without Iris--I can't think what +she wanted to go and marry Uncle Bruce for, can you?" + +"There are many things I can't understand, little Cherry," said Anstice +with a smile whose sadness was hidden from the child. "But I agree with +you that it was much nicer when Iris"--he might venture here to use the +beloved little name--"was at home. But we can't always have the people +we like with us, can we?" + +"No--or I'd always have you, my dear," said Cherry with unexpected +though rather sleepy affection; and as Anstice, touched by the words, +kissed her upturned little face, her pretty brown eyes closed +irresistibly. + +"Good-night, Cherry! Pleasant dreams!" He laid her back deftly on her +pillows and the child was asleep almost before he had time to reach the +door. + +But as he went back to the drawing-room, eager to tell Mrs. Carstairs +and Sir Richard of the revelations so innocently made by Cherry, he +wondered whether at last the mystery were really within reach of a +solution. + +Cherry's story, although fragmentary and confused, was sufficiently +coherent to rank as evidence; and although he could hardly credit +Tochatti with a genuine belief in the old superstition of the wax image +he reminded himself she was half a Southerner; and that in some of the +mediæval Italian towns and cities superstitions still thrive, in spite +of the teaching of the modern world. + +And if Cherry's story were true---- + +"Out of the mouths of babes"--he murmured to himself as he went down the +shallow oak stairs--"strange if, after all, the child should be the one +to clear up the whole mysterious affair! At any rate, we are a step +further on the way to elucidation; and from the bottom of my heart I +hope Mrs. Carstairs may be righted at last!" + +And with this aspiration on his lips he entered the drawing-room and +related the substance of his unexpectedly profitable interview with the +unsuspicious Cherry to an interested and enthralled audience of two. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +It did not take Anstice long to discover that the accusation against +him--an accusation all the more difficult to refute because of the +half-truth on which it was based--had been disseminated throughout +Littlefield with a thoroughness which implied a determination on the +part of the anonymous writer to leave no prominent resident in the +neighbourhood in ignorance of Anstice's supposed cowardice on that +bygone day in India. + +He could not help noticing as he went here and there on his daily +business that some of his patients looked askance at him, although they +did their best to hide their new and rather disconcerting interest in +him. So far as he knew, none of his patients forsook him for another and +less notorious doctor, but he was keenly alive to the altered manner of +some of those whom he attended, and although at present it was evident +that he was not yet condemned--after all, no fair-minded person condemns +another solely on the evidence of a tale-bearer who is ashamed to put +his name to the stories he relates--yet Anstice felt with a quick +galling of his pride that he was on probation, as it were, that those +with whom he came in contact were considering what verdict they should +pass upon him. And although his indifference to that verdict equalled +Mrs. Carstairs' former indifference to the opinion of these same +neighbours, his soul was seared with the thought that his unhappy +story--or rather a garbled version of it--was common property among +those men and women whom he had served faithfully to the best of his +ability during the eighteen months he had spent in Littlefield. + +On one thing he was fully determined. So soon as this mystery should be +solved--and he fancied a solution was no longer impossible--he would +leave the place, resign the position which had become tedious, +unbearably tedious in its cramped monotony, and seek some other place, +in England or abroad, where he might have leisure to pursue those +studies in research which had been so ruthlessly cut short by his own +most unhappy miscalculation. + +True, he no longer cared for fame. The possibility of some renown +crowning his toil no longer danced before his eyes with alluring +promises. The part of him which had craved success, recognition, the +youthful, vital part of him was dead, slain by the same bullet which had +ended poor Hilda Ryder's happy life; and although he was beginning to +look forward to a new and less cramped career than this which now +shackled him, the joyous, optimistic anticipation of youth was sadly +missing. + +It was impossible that once at work the old interest in his subject +might awake; but now he would work for the work's sake only, for the +sake of the distraction it might afford him; and though through all his +troubles he had preserved, at bottom, the quick humanity which had led +him to choose medicine as his career, he was thinking less now of his +old ambition to find a means of alleviation for one of the greatest ills +of mankind than of the zest which the renewed study of the subject might +restore to his own overshadowed life. + +Yet although he was determined to turn his back as soon as he decently +might on Littlefield and its people, with the perversity of mankind he +was equally determined to see them brought to confusion before he left +them--see them impelled to admit that in the case of Mrs. Carstairs they +had been unjust, prejudiced, and, most galling of all, misled; and the +question of his own vindication was only a secondary matter after all. + +One day he heard, casually, that Major Carstairs was expected at Cherry +Orchard, and when he entered his house at lunch-time he found a note +from Chloe asking him to call upon her between tea and dinner and +remain, if possible, for the latter meal. In any case she asked him to +come for half an hour, at least, and he rang her up at once and fixed +six o'clock for the time of his call upon her. + +At six accordingly he entered the drawing-room, and found Major +Carstairs in possession, as it were, standing on the hearth-rug with the +air of a man at home in his own house. Before Anstice had time to wonder +how this situation had arisen Chloe advanced, smiling, and held out her +hand. + +"Good-evening, Dr. Anstice. I think you and my husband have met +already." + +In these words she announced her cognizance of that meeting in +Piccadilly a few days earlier, and Anstice acknowledged the supposition +to be correct, relieved to see by her smile that she did not grudge his +former secrecy. + +"Yes, by Jove! Dr. Anstice came to the rescue or I'd have had a nasty +fall on the pavement," said Major Carstairs genially. "And by the way, I +declare I'm quite jealous of your supremacy with Cherry! She does +nothing but talk of you, and I hear she infinitely prefers your car to +her mother's!" + +"Yes, Cherry and I are very good friends," said Anstice with a smile. +"We had a slight difference last week because I wouldn't allow her to +drive that same car; but Cherry is always amenable to reason, and when I +pointed out to her that she had no licence, and might possibly be +reported by some interfering police-constable and get us both into +trouble she gave in like a lamb. By the way, Mrs. Carstairs, where is +she to-night? Not in disgrace again, I hope?" + +"No, she's as good as gold to-day because she is to sit up to dinner +to-night," said Chloe, smiling--Anstice thought her smiles came more +readily than usual this evening. "I believe she is making an elaborate +toilette upstairs just now; and I admit I was glad to have her occupied, +for I wanted, if you and my husband agree, to talk over the matters of +the letters--and Tochatti." + +For a second Anstice felt uncomfortable, but Major Carstairs probably +noted his discomfort, for he turned to him with a sincerity there was no +doubting. + +"Look here, Dr. Anstice, you have been--luckily for us, if I may say +so--mixed up in this most unsavoury affair, and from what my wife tells +me I believe you are going to be the means of clearing it up--a +consummation most devoutly to be wished." + +Anstice's embarrassment vanished before the soldier's frankness. + +"I only hope you may be right, Major Carstairs," he said, looking the +other man squarely in the face. "Personally, since I intended to leave +Littlefield before long in any case, these wretched slanders don't +affect me much. The few friends I have made in this place are not likely +to give credence to the rumour which has been spread broadcast in the +last week or two--and for the rest----" + +"I understand your indifference to the opinion of 'the rest,'" said +Major Carstairs, smiling, "but I think it will be more satisfactory for +all of us when the affair is really cleared up. But won't you sit down? +Chloe tells me it is too late for tea--but you'll have a peg?" + +"Not for me, thanks." Anstice was too intent on the matter in hand to +turn to side issues. "If you don't mind giving me your opinion on the +subject--do you think it possible that the woman Tochatti is the one to +blame?" + +"Well----" Major Carstairs sat down as he spoke, and since Chloe had +already taken her accustomed seat in a corner of the big couch, Anstice +followed their joint example. "Personally I have never been able to +conquer a dislike, which I always put down as absolutely unjust and +uncharitable, for the woman. I know she has served my wife faithfully, +and her devotion to our little daughter has been beyond praise. But"--he +smiled rather deprecatingly--"even ten years in India haven't +apparently cured me of British insularity, and I have never liked +foreigners--especially half-breeds such as Tochatti, Italian on one +side, English on the other." + +"Then you think it possible, at least, that she may be the culprit?" + +"I do, quite possible. And I thank God from the bottom of my heart for +the bare possibility," returned Major Carstairs deliberately, and his +words and manner both served to assure Anstice that at last this man had +been brought to believe, wholeheartedly, in his wife's innocence. + +Anstice never knew, either then or afterwards, exactly how the miracle +had come about. Indeed, so subtle are the workings of a man's heart, so +complex and incomprehensible the thoughts and motives which touch a soul +to finer issues, that it is quite possible Major Carstairs himself could +not have told how or when he first began to realize that his judgment +might well be at fault, that his own stern honesty and unflinching +integrity, which would not permit him to subscribe outwardly to a belief +which inwardly he did not hold, might after all have been +stumbling-blocks in the way of true understanding rather than the +righteous bulwarks which he had fancied them. + +Probably the conviction that he had misjudged his wife had been stealing +imperceptibly into Major Carstairs' mind during many lonely days spent +on the Indian Frontier; and though he could never have stated with any +degree of certainty the exact moment in which he understood, at last, +that his wife, the woman he had married, the mother of his child, was +incapable of the action which a censorious and unkind world had been +ready to attribute to her, when once that conviction entered his honest, +logical, if somewhat stubborn mind, it had found a home there for ever. + +His chance meeting with Anstice, whose belief in Mrs. Carstairs was too +genuine to be doubted for an instant, had come at an opportune moment, +setting, as it were, the seal on his own changed judgment; and being +essentially a man of honour, upright and just to a fault, he deemed it +not only a duty but a privilege to come directly to his wife, and while +asking her pardon for his unjustifiable suspicions, assure her of his +firm determination to see her innocence made manifest before all the +world. + + * * * * * + +Something of this Anstice guessed as he watched the interchange of +glances between husband and wife on this bitter November evening, and he +told himself that few women would have accepted their husband's tardy +reparation as this woman had done. It did not need a magician to know +that husband and wife were truly reunited, and though some might have +been inclined to label Chloe Carstairs poor-spirited in that she had +apparently forgiven her husband's mistrust so easily, Anstice told +himself that Chloe was a woman in a thousand, that this very forgiveness +and lack of any natural resentment showed the unalloyed fineness, the +pure gold of her character, as nothing else could have done. + + * * * * * + +It was Chloe who broke the silence which followed Major Carstairs' last +words, and as he looked at her Anstice was struck suddenly by the change +in her appearance this evening. Where she had hitherto been cold, +impassive, indifferent, now she was warm, glowing, responsive. In her +pale cheeks was a most unusual wild-rose colour and her blue, +almond-shaped eyes held a light which made them look like two beautiful +sapphires shining in the sun. + +When she spoke her rich, deep voice lost its undertone of melancholy, +and rang joyously, with the soft beauty of a 'cello's lower notes. + +"You see, Dr. Anstice, your faith in me--for which I have never +attempted to thank you--is at last within measure of being justified!" +She smiled happily. "And although Tochatti has served me faithfully she +cannot be allowed to go on with this thing--if she be the one +responsible. The question is, How is it to be brought home to her?" + +Thus encouraged Anstice again outlined the plan he had formerly +suggested--that a watch should be set during the night; but, as he had +half expected, Chloe did not give it her unqualified approval. + +"No, Dr. Anstice." She spoke too gently to cause him offence. "I don't +think, honestly, I like the idea. Can't I speak openly, ask her quite +plainly why she has done this thing--what perverted notion of--well, +resentment she has against me which would lead her to act in this +manner?" + +To Anstice's relief Major Carstairs vetoed this plan, unhesitatingly. + +"No, Chloe, that is an absolutely impossible suggestion! As Dr. Anstice +says, guile must be met with guile, and the only way to catch this woman +is to take her absolutely red-handed. And if, as you seem to think, she +is likely to creep down in the night--well, it could do no harm to set a +watch." + +"There is one reason against that delightfully simple plan of yours," +objected Chloe. "Tochatti would not be likely to write any more of these +letters with you in the house, Leo. You see, it would be very serious +for her if _you_ encountered her at my writing-table in the night!" + +Before Carstairs could reply Anstice spoke rather diffidently. + +"I have just one suggestion to make, Major Carstairs. Am I right in +supposing you are staying down here to-night?" + +A fleeting embarrassment was visible on the faces of both Major +Carstairs and his wife; but the former answered resolutely: + +"Yes. I am certainly hoping to stay here." + +"Well, if I might just make a suggestion, why not give out that you are +returning to town to-night and coming down to stay to-morrow or the next +day? Tochatti would probably, thinking this her last opportunity, make +haste to seize it and write another letter or two--possibly the +last--to-night." + +"You mean give out that I am returning to town to-night; start, in fact, +in reality, and come back later, when the house is quiet?" + +"Yes," said Anstice, wondering what the soldier thought of his amateur +strategy. "Then you--and anyone else you choose--could sit up here and +wait events." + +"I admire the simplicity of your plan, Dr. Anstice," returned Carstairs +with an irrepressible laugh. "I've been called upon to exercise +diplomacy at times myself, but I don't think I ever hit on anything more +telling in the way of a plan than this charmingly simple one of yours!" + +"You approve of it, then?" Anstice was in no wise offended by the +other's mirth. + +"Highly--it's just the plan to appeal to me," said Carstairs, still +smiling infectiously; and Chloe rose from her couch and coming to his +chair seated herself on the arm and rested her hand on his shoulder. + +"I know why the plan appeals to you, Leo! It recalls your schoolboy +days, when you pretended to go to bed and then stole out to skate by +moonlight!" + +"Hush, hush, Chloe! Never tell tales out of school," commanded the Major +in mock alarm; but Anstice noticed how the man's brown fingers closed +round his wife's hand, and suddenly he felt as though this spectacle of +their reunion was too tantalizing to be pleasant to a sore heart like +his own. + +He rose rather abruptly, and both the others looked at him with a little +surprise. + +"You're not going, Anstice? Surely you'll stay to dinner? My little +daughter will be sorely disappointed if you run away now!" + +"Do stay, Dr. Anstice!" Chloe rose too, and her eyes, like two beautiful +blue jewels, shone kindly into his. "Our scheme will have to be +discussed further, won't it? We mustn't take the field with an +ill-prepared plan, must we, Leo?" + +"Indeed we must not," returned her husband quickly. "Especially as I was +going to ask a very big favour of you. Dr. Anstice! Seeing how more than +good you have been in interesting yourself in this affair, I have been +wondering whether you wouldn't conceivably like to be in at the death, +so to speak. In plain words, I was going to ask you if you would care to +be my fellow-conspirator in this nefarious plot we have hatched between +us!" + +"You mean--will I sit up with you to-night?" Anstice spoke eagerly, and +Chloe smiled. + +"Well, you're not annoyed by the suggestion, anyway! I needn't say I +should appreciate your company--though after all, it is a big thing to +ask a man of your calling to sacrifice the rest he must need pretty +badly!" He spoke rather dubiously. + +"Oh, not a bit of it, Major Carstairs!" Anstice's eyes brightened at the +thought of the adventure. "In a matter of this kind two witnesses are +better than one; and there is always a chance that even a woman may turn +nasty when she finds herself cornered--especially one who is half a +foreigner," he added with a smile. + +"Then you'll come? It's awfully good of you----" + +"Not at all, sir. You forget I'm an interested party," said Anstice +quickly. "It is as much to my interest to clear the matter up as to +yours, now. Well, what about details? Where--and how--shall we meet, and +how do we get into the house without anyone knowing?" + +"Ah, yes. That requires thought." + +Major Carstairs rubbed his hands together gaily, and Chloe burst out +laughing. + +"You two are nothing but schoolboys," she said joyously. "I believe you +are both looking forward to this midnight adventure! You'd be quite +disappointed if there were no need for your masterly plot after all!" + +Anstice and Major Carstairs looked rather shamefacedly at one another; +but Chloe was merciful and restrained further mockery for the time. + +"Well, now I will make my suggestion," she said. "Leave the house in the +usual way, by the front door; and come back, at whatever hour you agree +upon, to the window here. I will let you in myself, and not a soul need +know you have re-entered the house." + +"Very well," Carstairs nodded. "One suggestion though. Leave the window +open--no one will see behind those curtains, and go to bed as usual +yourself. Depend upon it, if Tochatti is really the culprit, she will +take all means of satisfying herself that you are safely in bed before +she begins her work, and it would not do for her to find your room empty +at midnight." + +Chloe paled a little, and when she spoke her voice was uneasy. + +"Leo, do you really think Tochatti is so--so malicious? I can't bear to +think of her being with Cherry--she is with her almost night and day, +you know--if she is so dreadful, so dangerous a character----" + +"You need not be afraid, Mrs. Carstairs." It was Anstice who spoke, +reassuringly. "The little one is quite safe with her, I am sure of that. +If it really does turn out that Tochatti has been to blame, I feel +convinced that we shall find she is not altogether responsible for her +actions----" + +"But that's worse still!" Chloe's voice was really alarmed. "If she is +mad--a lunatic----" + +"I did not mean quite that," said Anstice. "I meant--well, it is rather +a difficult subject to enter into at a moment's notice; but--have you +ever heard of a dual personality?" + +"A dual personality?" She repeated the words, her white brow wrinkling +with the effort of concentration. "I think I know what you mean--a +person with two sides to his character, so to speak--of which first one +is in the ascendant and then the other?" + +"Kind of Jekyll and Hyde business, what?" Major Carstairs knew his +Stevenson, and Anstice nodded. + +"Well, something like that, though not so pronounced. There really are +such people, you know--it is not only a fantastic tale that a man may +lead a kind of double life, speaking in a spiritual and not a physical +sense. You don't call such people lunatics, nor are they, save in +extreme cases, criminals. But it is quite possible for a woman like +Tochatti to devote one half of herself to your service--and serve you +admirably!--and lead what seems in all respects an open and above-board +existence; and yet, through some kink in her character, stoop to an +action one would expect to find only in a woman of a thoroughly debased +nature." + +He paused, but neither of his hearers spoke. + +"It is as if a lower spirit entered into these people at times, driving +them to do things which in a normal state they would be quite incapable +of doing. You know the old Biblical theory of possession? Well, the same +thing, under another name, is to be met with to-day; and for my part, +when I come across the case of a person whose present behaviour +contradicts all the actions of his previous life, upsets all the data, +so to speak, which I have been able to gather of his conduct in the +past, well, I put it down, mentally, to that peculiar theory of +'possession' with which the Easterns in the time of Christ were +apparently perfectly familiar." + +"As they are to-day," said Major Carstairs unexpectedly; and Anstice +looked gratified at the corroboration. "It is a strange theory, I own, +but after what I have seen in India I confess I find it perfectly +feasible." + +"And you think my poor Tochatti may be a victim to this old form of +demonism?" Chloe addressed the question to Anstice, and he answered it +after a momentary hesitation. + +"Well, it is too soon to make any sweeping statement of that kind, Mrs. +Carstairs, but I must acknowledge it is hard to reconcile the woman's +general behaviour with an action of this kind without some such theory. +However"--he glanced at the clock--"if you will excuse me I must really +get home. There will be all sorts of complaints from my surgery patients +if they are kept waiting!" + +"One moment, Anstice! I take it you will come back to-night? Though +really it is a jolly big thing to ask...." Major Carstairs tone was +apologetic. + +"Of course, and we must settle where we meet. But first, shouldn't we +let Tochatti know that you are not staying here to-night?" + +"Why, yes." Chloe moved towards the boll. "I'll send for Cherry--that +will bring Tochatti--and you can allude to your departure then." + +Three minutes later Tochatti appeared, in charge of the excited Cherry, +who flew at Anstice, and, quite regardless of her immaculately frilled +muslin dress, flung herself into his arms and kissed him +demonstratively. + +"Oh, my dear, what _ages_ since I've seen you!" Her tone was a faithful +copy of the parlourmaid's greeting to a recent visitor to the kitchen. +"Are you going to stay to dinner? I do hope so, 'cos I'm going to sit up +and there's lovely things--lots of roasted pheasants and meringues all +filled with squelchy cream!" + +"Alas, Cherry, I can't stop!" Anstice's comically regretful tone made +Chloe smile. "I shall have to go home and see my patients. And if I get +a chop----" + +"_And_ a chipped potato, my dear," prompted Cherry. + +"_And_ a chipped potato," concurred Anstice obediently, "I shall think +myself lucky! But I wish you hadn't told me there were to be lots of +pheasants!" + +"They're for Daddy, speshully," said Cherry, "'cos he's got sick of +chickens in Injia--but I like the bready sauce and the little brown +crumbs best!" + +"And that reminds me," said Major Carstairs, looking at his watch rather +ostentatiously, "I should be glad if you could put forward dinner a +little, Chloe. I must catch the nine-thirty to town." + +"Oh, Daddy, you're not going to-night!" Cherry forsook Anstice for the +moment and clambered on to her father's knee. "You said you were going +to stop and you'd come and tell me stories in bed!" + +"I did, and I don't like breaking my word to a lady," said Major +Carstairs seriously, "but I really must go back to town to-night, and +I'll come down to-morrow or the next day, and stay a long, long time!" + +"You might tell Hagyard Major Carstairs will not be staying to-night, +Tochatti," said Chloe, turning to the woman, and Anstice's quick eyes +caught the look of relief compounded with something like surprise which +flashed across Tochatti's swarthy countenance. + +"_Bene, Signora._" With a strange look at Anstice, a look which did not +escape the notice of the person at whom it was levelled, Tochatti +withdrew, and since further conversation was impossible in Cherry's +presence, Anstice made his farewells and went out to the car, escorted +by his host, who seized the opportunity to fix the details of the +evening's later meeting. + +"You will leave the house about a quarter to nine, I suppose?" asked +Anstice. "Well, look here, why not come round to my place to fill in the +time until we can go back? We shall be alone, and unless I'm called +out--which I trust won't happen--we can have a quiet chat and a smoke." + +"Right. I'll be at your place about nine, and if you're busy I can read +the paper, you know. Till then, _au revoir_!" + +Anstice nodded and mounted to the steering seat, and Major Carstairs +went back into the house, wondering why the younger man's face wore so +sad an expression in repose. + +"Of course that Indian affair was rather a facer, but the story's some +years old by now and one would think he'd have got over it. As decent a +fellow as I've ever met. But he seems altogether too old for his age, +and even when he smiles or jokes with the child he doesn't look happy. I +wonder if Chloe knows any reason for his melancholy air?" + +And with the question still uppermost in his mind he went back to the +drawing-room in search of his wife and child. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +It was very dark in the window-recess, shut off from the room by the +heavy blue curtains which fell to the floor in thick folds. The room +itself was not in complete darkness, for the fire, built up by Chloe +with assumed extravagance before she went to bed, had burned down to a +steady red glow, now and then illumined by a dancing gleam of light as a +tiny flame of gas sputtered from some specially charged coal; and as +Anstice peeped cautiously through a carefully arranged chink in the +curtains he could see the pretty room with fair distinctness. The chairs +were standing about with the peculiarly uncanny effect known to all who +enter a room after it has been finally deserted for the night--an effect +as of waiting for some ghostly visitors to fill their pathetic emptiness +and hold high revel or stately converse in the place lately peopled by +mere human beings. + +On a little table by the fire stood a chess-board, the old carved red +and white pieces standing on it in jumbled disarray; for Chloe and her +husband, both inveterate chess-lovers, had begun a game which they were +unable, through lack of time, to finish; and as his eyes fell on the +board Anstice had a queer fancy that if he and Major Carstairs +were not present two ghostly chess-players would issue softly from +the shadows and rearrange the pieces for another and perhaps more +strenuously-contested duel. + +As the fantastic thought crossed his mind Anstice sat up decisively, +telling himself he was growing imaginative; and Major Carstairs turned +to him with a whispered word. + +"Getting fidgety, eh? I know the feeling--used to get it when I was +sitting in a straw hut in the marshes waiting for the duck to +appear----" + +He broke off suddenly; for a sound had shattered the silence; but though +he and Anstice pulled themselves together in readiness for anything +which might happen, both realized at the same moment that it was only +the whirr of the grandfather clock which always prefaced the striking of +the hour; and in another second the hour itself struck, with one deep, +sonorous note which reverberated through the quiet room. + +"One o'clock, and no result," Major Carstairs stretched himself +cautiously. "How long is the sitting to continue, eh? It's all right for +me, but I'm afraid if you have a heavy day's work in prospect----" + +"Oh, I don't mind," said Anstice indifferently. "I'm used to having my +sleep cut short--one's patients seem to think one can exist quite +comfortably without it, though they make a tremendous fuss if they lose +a night's sleep for any reason!" + +"Well, if nothing happens shortly--and I'm inclined to think nothing +will----" began Major Carstairs, but he got no further, for with the +extraordinary aptness of conjunction which we are wont to call +coincidence, though another word might more fitly be employed, the door +opened almost noiselessly and a hooded figure crept on soundless feet +into the room. + +Anstice and his companion fairly held their breath as the shrouded form +glided softly forward, the light of the dying fire doing little, now, to +illumine the scene; and neither of the men could have sworn with any +certainty to the identity of the person who shared their occupation of +the silent room. + +In the middle of the floor the figure halted suddenly; and for one wild +moment Anstice fancied that some sixth sense had warned the new-comer of +their presence; but realizing the danger of attracting that new-comer's +thought towards him by any intensity of his own mind--for one thought +will draw another as a magnet the steel--Anstice switched off the +current of his thoughts, so to speak, and waited with as blank a mind as +he could compass for the thing which must surely happen soon. + +After that involuntary halt the figure moved slowly forward in the +direction of the writing-table; and Anstice would have given a great +deal to have been able to see the face of this midnight scribe; but as +yet the firelit gloom remained undisturbed; and it was impossible to do +more than hazard a guess as to this strange visitor's personality. + +There were candles on the writing-table, and for a moment Anstice +fancied that the mysterious figure would seek their aid to carry through +the task confronting her--he was convinced it was a woman who sat at the +table--but he was wrong, for no match was struck, no candle-flame +lighted the soft dusk. Instead a small beam of light shot suddenly +across the table; and Anstice and Major Carstairs both grasped at the +same moment the significance of the ray. + +It was a pocket electric torch, of a kind familiar to thousands +nowadays, whose aid the letter-writer had evoked; and since this +particular one was fitted with a bulb which enabled it to cast a +continuous light without finger-pressure, it was quite effective for the +purpose to which it was now being put. + +Having placed the torch on the table in such a position that the ray of +light fell directly across the blotting-pad, the figure made search for +a sheet of paper which suited its mind; and after a moment, a sheet +having been chosen, a pen was selected, dipped into Chloe's own silver +inkstand and a few lines of writing inscribed slowly, and with many +pauses, upon the otherwise unsullied paper. + +His heart throbbing wildly, with an excitement quite foreign to his +nature, Anstice watched the performance eagerly through the just-parted +curtains; and so sure was he now of the identity of his quarry that he +was ready to leap from his hiding-place and confront the anonymous +letter-writer without further loss of time, had not a gentle pressure on +his arm restrained him at the critical moment. + +It was not safe to speak, since even a whisper might betray their +presence; but Anstice realized Major Carstairs' intention and held +himself in check, though he quivered like a greyhound straining at the +leash, who fears his quarry may escape him if he be not slipped +forthwith. + +After what seemed like an hour, but was probably five minutes, the +letter, whatever its nature, was judged complete; and with the same +stealthy but unhurried movements the writer sought and obtained an +envelope from the many which lay ready to hand and slipped the missive +in with deft fingers. An address added, the abominable thing was +complete; and having quietly put everything in order, so that even the +most acute eyes could discover nothing amiss, the writer rose softly +from the chair, and taking up the electric torch extinguished its beam +preparatory to making her exit from the room, which was now in almost +complete darkness. + +This was the moment for which Major Carstairs had been waiting. + +With a whispered word in Anstice's ear: "The light--quick!" he dashed +aside the curtains and darted out into the room, while Anstice, hastily +obeying orders, rushed to the wall and turned on the electric switch to +such good purpose that the room sprang instantly into brilliant light. + +There was a scream from the hooded figure in the middle of the floor--a +scream of mingled anger, defiance and terror which rang in Anstice's +ears for hours afterwards, and following the scream a mad, wild rush for +the door--a blundering, stumbling rush in which the very garment, the +long, loose cloak which was intended for a disguise, proved itself a +handicap and effectually prevented its wearer making good her escape. By +the time she had torn herself free of the encumbering folds which +threatened to trip her up at every step Anstice had reached the door; +and now he stood before it with something in his face which warned the +panting creature in front of him that the way of escape was effectually +barred. + +Still hiding her face in the folds of her garment she turned round as +though to rush towards the window and seek egress thereby; but facing +her stood Major Carstairs, and the wretched culprit realized, too late, +that she was trapped. + +Yet as a cornered hare will turn and give battle, desperately, to her +eager foes, the woman made a frantic rush as though to pass the avenging +figure which stood in her path; and as she did so Major Carstairs moved +forward and plucked the black hood with no gentle hand from the face it +had so far partially concealed. + +And as with wildly beating pulses Anstice bent forward to catch a +glimpse of the mysterious visitor he knew that his surmise, unlikely as +it had seemed, had been correct; that by a stroke of luck the expert, +Clive, had been able to point unerringly to the clue which was to solve +the mystery of those vile letters and restore to an innocent woman the +fair name which had been so unjustly smirched. + +For the hooded figure was none other than Tochatti. + + * * * * * + +"My God! Then it _was_ you!" Major Carstairs' tone was so full of +disgust, of loathing, of the just indignation of a righteously angry man +that even Tochatti cowered in his grip; and as Anstice came forward the +other man turned to him with an expression of wrath which quite +transfigured his face. "Look at her, Anstice, the miserable, degraded +creature! To think that she has been with my wife all these +years--hanging over Cherry night and day--and all the time plotting this +infamous thing ... by the way, where is that letter?" + +He broke off suddenly and Anstice came a step nearer the two. + +"I see it, sir!" He had caught sight of it in the woman's clenched hand, +and with a smart and unexpected blow on her wrist forced her fingers to +open and release that which they held. "Here it is--will you take it? I +can look after her all right." + +"No--but just see what the address is, will you?" Major Carstairs had +regained his self-control, and now stood quiet, alert, cool, as though +on parade. "May as well know who was her chosen victim this time." + +"Oh, my old friend Carey--you know, the Vicar of Littlefield." Anstice +tossed the envelope on to a chair out of reach. "He was the first one +honoured, I believe, and possibly was to have been the last!" + +All this time the woman had stood silent, her black eyes snapping, her +breast heaving stormily. Now she turned on Anstice fiercely and poured +out a stream of vituperative Italian which conveyed little or nothing to +his mind. Seeing that she made no impression she redoubled her efforts, +and finally her voice rose to a scream. + +"I say, better shut her up, sir, or Mrs. Carstairs will hear!" Anstice +glanced anxiously towards the door and Major Carstairs nodded. + +"Yes. We don't want the whole house about our ears." He turned to the +woman who now stood sullenly silent in his grasp; though if looks could +kill there would certainly have been a practice for sale in Littlefield +on the morrow. "Now see here, Tochatti, you've been fairly +cornered--caught--and you will have to pay the penalty. In the meantime +I shall lock you in your room until the morning, and I warn you it is +useless trying to escape." + +A noise in the doorway cut him short; and turning hastily round Anstice +beheld Chloe Carstairs standing there, the light of the candle she +carried casting queer flickering shadows across her pale face, in which +the blue eyes gleamed more brightly than ever before. + +"Chloe!" In his surprise Major Carstairs released the woman; and with a +bound she was across the room, pouring out another wild flood of +protestations, in which the words "_il dottore_" and "_la bambina_" +occurred over and over again. Higher and higher rose her voice, more +shrill and hysterical her outpourings, and Anstice's professional +instinct warned him that such abnormal excitement must end in +disaster--though of the nature of that ending he had at the moment no +conception. + +Seeing, however, that the woman, while exhausting herself, was also +distressing her mistress, he moved forward with the intention of warning +Tochatti she was endangering her own health; but his word of caution was +never uttered, for as he approached her she spun round with a last +fierce torrent of words, and, stooping down, with incredible swiftness +plucked a sharp dagger from some secret hiding-place, and lunged at +Anstice with all her maddened might. + +Luckily for him her excitement impeded her aim; and while she doubtless +intended stabbing him to the heart she merely inflicted a flesh wound on +the upper part of the arm which he had raised to defend himself. + +The next moment Chloe, with a quite unlooked-for strength, had wrested +the weapon from the woman's grasp; and then ensued a scene which even +Anstice could hardly bear to look back upon in after days. + +Whether or no his theory of possession were justified, the woman was for +the time being beside herself. Seeing the dagger in Chloe's hand she +threw herself upon her mistress and struggled wildly to regain her +property, inflicting a series of cuts on her own hand before Chloe could +get free to hurl the deadly thing into a corner of the room; and even +when Anstice and Carstairs had overpowered her with their superior might +she fought for freedom like a mad woman. But this abnormal strength +could not continue. Suddenly, as Anstice had foreseen, the inevitable +collapse occurred. Nature could stand no more, and with a last wild +writhe the woman slipped through the hands which held her, and uttering +a sharp cry fell to the floor in a state of unconsciousness. + + * * * * * + +Half an hour later Anstice came downstairs and re-entered the room where +Major Carstairs sat alone over the now brightly burning fire. + +"Well!" The soldier's voice was anxious. "How is the woman? Oh, and what +about your arm? Was it badly hurt?" + +"No--only a very slight flesh wound, and Mrs. Carstairs has kindly bound +it up for me." He relinquished the subject of his own injury abruptly. +"The woman is asleep now--she grew excited again, so I've given her some +bromide, and she will be quiet enough for the rest of the night." + +"My wife is with her?" + +"Yes. Mrs. Carstairs insists on staying there for the present." + +Anstice took a cigarette from the case his host held out, and Major +Carstairs made a gesture towards the tantalus on the table. + +"Have a peg--I'm sure you want it!" + +"Well, I think I do," returned Anstice with a smile. "We had rather a +tough time of it upstairs just now." He mixed himself a drink as he +spoke. "Once a Southerner lets herself go the result is apt to be +disastrous." + +"Will she be quieter in the morning?" + +"I expect so." He stood by the mantelpiece, glass in hand; and in spite +of his evident fatigue it was easy to see he was quietly jubilant over +the events of the night. "The Latin races have a peculiar elasticity, +you know. An Englishwoman who had passed through this sort of violent +brain-storm would be absolutely exhausted, worn out for days after it; +but an Italian doesn't seem to feel things in the same way. They are so +naturally excitable, I suppose, that a scene like this is merely an +episode in the day's work; and they recover their mental poise much more +rapidly than persons of a more phlegmatic temperament would be likely to +do." + +"Then you think she may be--more or less--normal in the morning?" + +"I daresay--a bit dazed, perhaps, but I don't think you need fear a +repetition of to-night's scene. Of course she ought not to be left +alone--in case she tries to scoot; but if you are staying in the +house----" He paused interrogatively. + +"I am staying," returned Major Carstairs quietly. "Thanks to you the +cloud has lifted from our home; and since my wife is generous enough to +forgive me for my unwarrantable doubt of her----" + +He broke off, for Anstice was moving forward with outstretched hand; and +he guessed that the younger man was rendered uncomfortable by the turn +the conversation had taken. + +"You're going?" He wrung Anstice's hand with fervent gratitude. "Well, +it's late, of course--but won't you stay here for the rest of the night? +We can give you a bed in five minutes, and I'm sure my wife will be +distressed if you turn out now." + +"Thanks very much, but I must go." The decision in his tone was +unmistakable. + +"Well, I'll get out the car and run you over----" + +"No, thanks. I'd really rather walk." He picked up hat and coat from the +window-seat and turned to the door with an air of finality. "It's a fine +night and I shall enjoy it. I'll be round early in the morning--but I +don't think Tochatti will give you any trouble for a good many hours +yet." + +"As soon as she is able to explain matters there will be a good deal to +be done," said Major Carstairs rather grimly, as they went through the +hall together. "Thank God, we have that last letter as a proof of her +duplicity, and by its aid we can doubtless get a full confession out of +her." + +"Yes." Anstice paused a second on the doorstep before plunging into the +darkness of the night. "It will be interesting to hear the whole story. +The events are plain enough--but the question of motive is still a +puzzling one." + +"Quite so. And yet the affair will probably turn out simple, after all. +Well, I mustn't keep you if you want to be off. Good night +again--and"--the sincerity in his voice was pleasant to hear--"a +thousand thanks for the part you have played in the unravelling of this +tangle." + +"Good-night. Don't let Mrs. Carstairs exhaust herself looking after the +woman, will you? She is splendid, I know, but----" + +"I'll go and join her in a moment," returned Carstairs quietly. "I'm an +old campaigner, you know, and I'll see to it that she is properly +fortified for the vigil--if she insists upon it." + +And as he looked into the soldier's square-featured face, the honest +eyes agleam with love for the woman he had been fool enough to doubt, +Anstice felt instinctively that Chloe Carstairs' ship had come at last +to a safe anchorage, that the barque which had so narrowly escaped +complete shipwreck on the rock of a terrible catastrophe was now safely +at rest in the haven where it would be. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +"Well, Chloe, you have discovered the truth at last?" + +It was evening again--early evening this time; and Major Carstairs and +Anstice were sitting in Chloe's black-and-white room eagerly waiting for +the promised elucidation of the mystery which had so nearly ruined two +lives. + +Chloe herself, sitting in a corner of the chintz-covered couch, looked, +in spite of the strenuous hours through which she had passed, the +embodiment of youth and radiant happiness. + +In all his life Anstice had never seen so striking a testimony to the +power of soul over body as in this rejuvenation, this new birth, as it +were, which had taken place under his eyes. + +The whole woman was transformed. The classic features had lost their +slight austerity of outline, the sapphire-blue eyes were no longer cold +and indifferent, but danced bewitchingly in the softly-tinted face. The +lips whose corners had been prone to droop were now curved into the +tenderest, gayest smiles; and as Anstice looked at her he was reminded +of the old story of the marble statue, whose frozen rigidity was warmed +into life by the magic of the sculptor's kiss. + +And as he gazed, secretly, on this miracle which had been performed +before his eyes Anstice realized a truth which hitherto he had not +suspected. Although her manner in speaking of her husband had never held +the faintest tinge of resentment, nor the least hint of rancour, neither +had it betrayed any touch of a warmer feeling than a half-compassionate +friendliness; and Anstice had never suspected the world of feeling which +apparently lay locked in her heart. He had thought her cold, +self-contained, genuinely cynical. He saw her now, impulsive, gay, +radiant; and he knew to what this striking, this indescribably happy +change was due. + +Chloe Carstairs was in love, overwhelmingly, irresistibly in love with +her husband; and now Anstice was able to gauge something of the +bitterness of the life she had led for the last few months. Where he had +thought her cold she had been indeed suffering. Her assumed cynicism, +her weary indifference had been the cloak of a sharp and almost hopeless +misery; and at the thought of her heroic acceptance of her husband's +unbelief, an unbelief which must have been almost unbearably galling, +Anstice paid her in his heart a higher tribute than he had hitherto +bestowed on any woman. + +That the cloud of which Major Carstairs had spoken had indeed lifted was +evident in the glances which passed shyly between the two; and as Chloe +answered her husband's eager question her blue eyes rested almost +tenderly on his face. + +"Yes. I think the truth has come to light at last." + +"You mean the woman has confessed?" It was Anstice who spoke, and she +turned to him at once with an animation of look and manner very +different from her former languor. + +"Well, as to confession I hardly know. But she has told me the whole +story; and if you are both prepared to listen I will pass it on to you +at once." + +Sitting a little forward, her hands locked on the knee of her white +gown, her blue eyes extraordinarily vivid in her softly-coloured face, +she began her tale; and both men listened to her with rapt attention as +her deep voice rang through the quiet room. + +"It seems that years ago when Tochatti was a girl, living in a village +close to Naples, she was betrothed to a handsome young Sicilian, a +fisherman from Palermo. The story, as Tochatti told it, is a long and +rather involved affair; but it is sufficient to say that there was +another girl enamoured of Tochatti's lover; and matters were complicated +still further by the fact that this girl was engaged to someone else. +Well, Luigi, Tochatti's sweetheart, had evidently encouraged the second +girl behind Tochatti's back; and when Tochatti found out she was so +inflamed with rage and jealousy that, overhearing of an appointment +between Bella and Luigi, she wrote a note in a handwriting roughly +resembling that of Bella to the latter's sweetheart, a certain José, +bidding him meet her at the same time and place as that arranged by the +other two. Well, José went, expecting to meet his beloved--and found her +in Luigi's arms. Tragedy followed, of course. José first tore the girl +away and then stabbed her to the heart, afterwards turning on Luigi. +They struggled--on the edge of the cliff; and Luigi proving the +stronger, José was hurled over the edge into the sea below." + +"A tragedy indeed," commented Major Carstairs as the speaker paused. +"What was the next act? Did Luigi and Tochatti become reconciled and +walk off arm-in-arm?" + +"No." Chloe's voice sank a little. "It seems that when Tochatti, +horror-struck by the result of her interference, rushed on to the scene, +Luigi turned upon her, guessing somehow that she was responsible, and +taxed her with having lured José to the spot that night. She owned up to +it, and instead of imploring forgiveness appeared to glory in her +treachery, whereupon Luigi, throwing the fatal letter into her face, +burst into a torrent of rage, telling her he had never cared for her, +that Bella was the only girl he had ever loved, and finished up by +stabbing himself before her eyes rather than endure a life from which +his adored one had vanished for ever." + +"I say! What a tale--quite a Shakespearean ending, stage fairly littered +with corpses," struck in Major Carstairs. "I wonder Tochatti didn't put +the finishing touch by stabbing herself as well!" + +"She did think of it, I believe," owned Chloe, "but the sound of +quarrelling had brought other people on the scene, and Tochatti was of +course arrested and the whole story investigated with more or less +thoroughness. Being a pretty common story, however--for the Sicilians +are a hot-blooded race--it was quite easy for the authorities to +reconstruct the scene; and since Tochatti was innocent of any actual +crime she was eventually released; only to fall ill with some affection +of the brain which finally landed her in an asylum." + +"An asylum!" Anstice whistled. "Yet one would have hesitated to call her +insane----" + +"Yes, now, but you must remember this is very many years ago. She +recovered at length, and the only reminiscence of the tragedy was a +marked aversion to using pen or pencil. She seemed to think that having +wrought so much harm by her one attempt at letter-writing she would be +wiser to avoid such things in future." + +"Pity she didn't keep her resolve," commented Major Carstairs dryly; and +Chloe nodded. + +"Yes. We should all have been spared a good deal of trouble. Well, as +you know, she entered my mother's service during her honeymoon in Italy, +and was my nurse as a child. Now I come to the second half of the story. +Tochatti chose to adore me from my early youth"--she smiled +faintly--"and she always bore a grudge against anyone who did not fall +down and worship me too. And this peculiar attitude of hers has a +bearing on the affair of the letters. When Mrs. Ogden chose to quarrel +with me, or at least evince a decided coldness, Tochatti's ready hatred +flared up; and after the unlucky day when Mrs. Ogden cut me dead before +half the county at a Flower Show, she determined to show the woman she +could not be allowed to insult me with impunity." + +"It certainly was a piece of unpardonable rudeness," said Major +Carstairs warmly; and Chloe smiled. + +"Yes--and at the moment I resented it very bitterly. But if Tochatti +herself had not been there, in charge of Cherry, the matter would have +dropped--and it was really unfortunate she should have seen the 'cut.' +Well, it seems that Tochatti brooded over the affair, wondering how best +to get even with the person who dared to act insolently towards me." +Chloe's voice held just a tinge of mockery. "Twenty odd years of +residence in England had taught her that one can't use daggers and +knives with impunity, and I believe at first she was genuinely puzzled +to know how to act. I suppose the thought of weapons turned her mind +back to that Sicilian affair; and suddenly it flashed upon her that +letters, after all, could be trusted to do a good deal of injury." + +"So she wrote an anonymous letter calculated to do harm to the unlucky +subject thereof?" + +"Yes, and sent it to Sir Richard Wayne. Well, once having started she +apparently couldn't leave off. Her venom grew, so to speak, by being fed +in this manner; and she wrote one letter after another--you know her +mother was English, and she was well versed in our tongue--until +practically everyone in the parish knew a garbled version of Mrs. +Ogden's sordid little story." + +"One moment, Chloe." Major Carstairs had a soldier's mind for detail. +"How did the woman know that story? I thought no one ever owned to +having heard it?" + +"No one ever did," said Chloe rather bitterly. "But the explanation is +simple after all. Mrs. Ogden had, before I made my appearance on the +scene, repeated the tale to another woman in the parish--the young wife +of a solicitor whom she had 'taken up' with great fervour on her first +arrival in Littlefield; and this woman had repeated the story to her +French maid. The latter, being a stranger in England was pleased to make +Tochatti's acquaintance; and one day told her the story, of course in +strictest confidence. Well, the woman, the solicitor's wife, died, +almost immediately after that, as the result of a motor accident; and +her maid returned to her home somewhere in the valley of the Loire, +without having, so far as one can conjecture, passed on the tale to +anyone else." + +"Yes," said Anstice thoughtfully, as Chloe came to a stop. "Quite a +simple explanation, as you say, yet one which might never have come to +light." + +"There is still a point puzzling me," said Carstairs meditatively. "I +can understand Tochatti writing the letters, and thus seeking to injure +a woman whom she considered to be the enemy of her mistress. But how did +she ever bring herself to allow you to be suspected, Chloe?" + +"Ah, that is where the mystery really comes in, and where, possibly, Dr. +Anstice's theory of the double personality may be considered." Chloe +looked at them both rather dubiously. "I confess I can't understand that +part of the story myself. Tochatti has assured me that she never for an +instant dreamed I should be suspected--the slight similarity in some of +the writing to some of mine was more or less accidental, though she +admits she had tried to model her script on mine because she admired +it ... as she admired all my poor faculties," said Chloe, with a little +shrug of her shoulders. "I really believe she used my pens and paper +without any idea of the harm she was doing me--in fact, if such a +supposition could be entertained for a moment, I don't believe she had +any very clear idea what she was doing beyond a fixed intention to work +harm to the woman she detested." + +"You mean that the idea of this Mrs. Ogden filled her mental horizon to +the exclusion of any other thought?" It was Anstice who put the +question. + +"Yes. Honestly I believe she was incapable of looking, as one might say, +all round the subject. You see"--Chloe hesitated, not sure how far the +suggestion was permissible--"she had once been in an asylum, and +possibly her brain had never worked quite normally since that tragedy on +the cliffs." + +"No, it is possible she was the victim of a sort of monomania," conceded +Anstice. "In which case no other person would be connected in her mind +with the affair save the one against whom the campaign was directed. It +is a pretty lame explanation, I own, but then the workings of the human +mind are so extraordinarily incomprehensible sometimes that I, for my +part, have very nearly ceased being surprised at anything a man or woman +may be disposed to do!" + +"Tochatti tells me she grew very uneasy when things began to look really +black," continued Chloe. "She had not understood when she started that +letters of this kind rendered one liable to imprisonment sometimes; and +she was horrified when she discovered that fact. I believe she would +willingly have undone the harm she had done if it had been possible; for +she couldn't help seeing, as the days went on, that I was in grave +danger of incurring the penalty of her fault. Once, at least, I am sure +she nerved herself to tell the whole truth----" + +"Her good intentions evidently went to pave a place which shall be +nameless," said Major Carstairs dryly. "After all, her affection for you +seems to have been a very pinchbeck affair, Chloe, if she could calmly +stand by and see you suffer for her wickedness. And for my part I don't +see how you can be expected to forgive her." + +For a second Chloe sat silently in her corner of the couch; and in her +face were the traces of the conflicting emotions which made for a moment +a battlefield of her soul. + +After all Chloe Carstairs was a very human woman; and it is not in human +nature to suffer a great wrong and feel no resentment against those who +have inflicted that wrong. Had she been able to forgive Tochatti +immediately, to condone her wickedness, to restore the woman to her old +place in her esteem, Chloe had been something less--or more--than human; +and that she was after all only mortal was proved by her answer to +Carstairs' last speech. + +"I don't think I have forgiven her--yet----" she said very quietly. "At +the same time I don't care to doubt the genuineness of her affection for +me. I would rather think that she turned coward at the notion of +suffering punishment, and let me endure it in her place through a +selfish terror which forbade her to own up and take the blame herself." + +"Well--if you look at it like that----" Major Carstairs was evidently +not satisfied; and Chloe, possibly feeling unable, or reluctant, to make +any further excuse for Tochatti, hurried on with her tale. + +"Another factor in Tochatti's determination not to suffer herself is to +be found in her dread of a prison as a sort of asylum like that in which +she had been confined abroad. I don't know what kind of institution that +had been, but she evidently retains to this day a very vivid +recollection of the horrors she then endured; and her heart failed her +at the bare thought of returning to such a frightful existence as she +had then experienced. At any rate"--she suddenly abandoned her +apologia--"she could not face it; and so she allowed me to take the +blame; and by reiterating the fact that she could not write--a theory +which the other servants held, in common with me----" + +"But had you never seen her write? It seems odd, all the years she had +been in your service!" + +"No, I had never seen her write, for the simple reason that she never +did write. It seems that the result of that fatal letter of hers had +imprinted a horror of writing on her mind; and I really believe that +until the day on which she penned the first anonymous letter she had +never taken a pen or pencil in her hand...." + +"Well, it's admitted she wrote those letters, and hoodwinked the world," +said Carstairs briskly. "And though I confess I don't understand how she +could reconcile her actions with her affection for you we will let that +point pass. But now--what about those last letters? Is Dr. Anstice's +supposition that she was jealous of him correct?" + +"Quite." Chloe looked at Anstice rather apologetically. "You know +Tochatti is of a horribly jealous disposition; and she could not bear to +see Cherry growing fonder of you day by day. That unlucky accident was +the crowning point, of course; and the fact that you appeared to slight +her powers of looking after the child--you must forgive me for putting +it like that--was too much for her. With the arrival of Nurse Trevor +Tochatti seemed to lose all sense of decent behaviour; and her idea was +to repeat her former experience and circularize the neighbourhood with a +scandalous story which she hoped, as she has since owned to me, might +succeed in driving you away." + +"A very pretty plot," said Anstice quietly, "and one which deserved to +succeed. But, Mrs. Carstairs, if you will allow me to repeat your +husband's question--how did she learn my unhappy story?" + +"I expected you to ask that," returned Chloe steadily, "and I made it my +business to find out for you. Well, like the other explanation, it is +very simple. While I was away"--in her new-born happiness Chloe would +not distress her husband by speaking more plainly--"Tochatti took Cherry +down to my old home, where my mother still lives, and of course it was +only natural that she should there hear some version of the story as it +affected my brother Bruce. She acknowledges she would never have +connected you with the affair save for the unlucky fact that on the +night you and Bruce met here he came to my room afterwards to tell me +how and in what circumstances you had met before; and most unfortunately +Tochatti, who was in an adjoining room, heard his explanation. She +didn't think much of it at the time, but stored it up in her mind; and +when, later, she wished to injure you, there was the means ready to +hand." + +"Like the proverbial Corsican who will carry a stone in his pocket for +seven years, turn it, and carry it for another seven on the chance of +being able to sling it at his enemy in the end," commented Carstairs. +"Well, thank God, the whole story is cleared up now; and the next thing +to do is to set about making the matter public and seeing justice done +at last." + +"Quite so--and it should be easy now," concurred Anstice heartily. "With +the letter you hold as evidence and the woman's full confession you +should not have much trouble with the case." + +Looking at Chloe as he spoke he saw a strange expression flit across her +face. The next instant she rose and going across to her husband's chair +stood looking down upon him with unfathomable blue eyes. + +"Leo"--her voice was very low--"is it really necessary that the matter +should be made public? So long as you know the truth--and Dr. +Anstice--and my dear friends Sir Richard and Iris, can't we let the +subject drop? You know I don't care in the least for the opinion of the +world, and it would mean so much trouble, so much raking up of things +best forgotten. Couldn't we"--she hesitated--"couldn't we leave things +alone, and just be thankful that _we_ know the truth at last?" + +Major Carstairs looked up at his wife as she stood before him; and his +voice was very gentle as he answered her. + +"But, Chloe, what of Tochatti herself? She must not be allowed to go +unpunished. Besides, there is another aspect of the case. You know these +abominable letters have been scattered broadcast in the land, and it is +only fair to Dr. Anstice that their authorship should be published and +their lies refuted." + +"Yes. I had forgotten that." She turned to Anstice, who had risen and +was standing leaning against the mantelpiece, looking desperately +uncomfortable. "Forgive me, please, Dr. Anstice! For the second time I +had forgotten that you were the victim of this latest outrage of +Tochatti's----" + +"Mrs. Carstairs--please!" In his haste to explain himself Anstice spoke +rather incoherently. "If you are willing to let this matter drop--why, +so am I. For your own sake I think, while you are behaving nobly, you +are making a mistake--a most generous, chivalrous mistake--in not +proving your entire innocence before all the world, but if you are +really resolved on it, do let me make you understand that personally I +am only too ready to let the whole thing slide into the oblivion it +deserves!" + +"My dear fellow"--Major Carstairs spoke warmly--"this is all very well, +very Quixotic, very--well, what you call noble, chivalrous--but what +about the moral side of the affair? Justice should be tempered with +mercy, certainly; but it doesn't do to defraud justice altogether of her +dues. The woman has committed a crime--I repeat it, a crime against +society, against you, against my wife; and to let her go unpunished is +to put a premium on wickedness; and leave both you and my wife to lie +under a most undeserved, most cruel stigma." + +For a moment Anstice hesitated; and before he could frame a reply Chloe +spoke very quietly, yet with a decision there was no mistaking. + +"Leo, I see your point of view plainly--a good deal more plainly, I +think, than you see mine. Of course as a man you want your wife's name +cleared; and if you insist on making the affair public, why then"--said +Chloe with a little smile--"I suppose I must submit as a good wife +should. But"--she was serious now--"if you knew how I dread the +publicity of it all--the reports in the papers, the gossip, the +talk--oh, it makes me shudder even to think of it! And if you imagine me +revengeful enough to find satisfaction in the idea of Tochatti's +punishment--well, I think you must have a quite mistaken notion of me +after all!" + +Major Carstairs hesitated, looking from his wife to Anstice in manifest +perplexity. + +"Well, really, Chloe, I don't know what to say. Of course you and Dr. +Anstice are the people chiefly concerned; and if you are both of you +sufficiently superhuman to forego your legitimate revenge--well, I +suppose it is not for me to interfere!" + +"Suppose you think it over, sir." Anstice felt a sudden desire to get +away, to be alone, to think over the revelation of the past half-hour. +"For my part I really must go about my work--I'd no idea it was so late. +By the way, who will take charge of Tochatti to-night? She is asleep +now"--he had seen to that--"but later on she will want a little looking +after. She has not borne out my theory," he added, turning to the +soldier. "I thought that last night's excitement would have vanished +entirely to-day; but I'm bound to admit she is in a queer state; and if +she is no better to-morrow you will have to let me send someone to look +after her." + +"The housekeeper and I will be able to do that at present," said Chloe +quietly. "You know poor Tochatti's hatred of professional nurses was +directly responsible for that last burst of letter-writing, so we had +better not try her too far!" + +"By the way, where's the dagger she produced with such lightning +sleight-of-hand last night?" Anstice put the question casually as he +turned towards the door. "It would not be wise to leave it about, in +case she felt like using it again!" + +"It is hidden, at present, in my dressing-case," said Chloe. "I picked +it up last night and flung it in there lest anyone should see it. But I +agree it would be safer locked up; and I will give it to you, Leo, when +I go upstairs." + +"Yes, it will be better in my keeping," said Carstairs briskly. "Though +I hope the madness which induced her to try to use it will have passed +before long." + +"We'll see how she is in the morning," said Anstice as he shook hands +with Chloe. "I'll come round directly after breakfast, shall I? Quite +possibly she will be herself again after a long sleep." + +"Dr. Anstice"--Chloe retained his hand for a moment--"are you quite sure +you don't regret agreeing with me over the possible hushing up of the +affair? I'm afraid, after all, I made it rather hard for you to do +anything but acquiesce just now. But if, after thinking it over, you +decide that the story should be made public, well, I am quite ready to +abide by your decision." + +"No, Mrs. Carstairs." Anstice's tone was too sincere for her to doubt +his genuineness. "For my own part I am more than ready to stand by my +former verdict; and the final decision rests entirely with you. +Only--perhaps I may be permitted to express my thankfulness that the +problem has been solved--and my hope that you--and your husband--may +find the future sufficiently bright to atone for the darkness of the +past." + +"Thank you," she said gently, and her eyes looked very soft. "At least +my husband and I will never forget that we owe our happiness to you." + +And with the words, cordially endorsed by Major Carstairs, ringing in +his ears Anstice left Cherry Orchard and fared forth once more into the +gloomy November night. + +As he drove away he told himself that he was truly glad the mystery was +elucidated at last. Yet even as he did so he knew that his own share in +the matter gave him little satisfaction. He felt no elation at the turn +of events. He told himself impatiently that he ought by rights to be +jubilant, since it was owing to his efforts that Tochatti had been +unmasked; but in spite of his honest endeavour to spur his flagging +emotions his heart felt heavy in his breast, and there was no elation in +his soul. + +After all, he told himself wearily, the discovery of the truth meant +very little to him. With Mrs. Carstairs the case was widely different; +and he did rejoice, sincerely, in her happiness; but for himself, having +lost Iris Wayne, all lesser events were of very little importance after +all. + +"I wonder how Mrs. Carstairs will decide," he said to himself as he +drove homewards. "Whatever her decision I suppose I must abide by it; +but for myself I sincerely hope she will stick to her first view of the +matter." + +And then he dismissed the subject from his thoughts for the moment, +little dreaming of the awful and tragic manner in which the decision was +to be taken out of Chloe Carstairs' hands in the course of the next few +hours. + + * * * * * + +He was just thinking of going to bed that night when the telephone bell +rang sharply; and with one of those strange premonitions to which all +highly-strung people are at times liable, he connected the call +instantly with the affair at Cherry Orchard. + +"Yes ... I'm Dr. Anstice ... who is it?" + +"Carstairs," came the answer over the wire. "I say, Anstice, +can you come at once? Something appalling has +happened--Tochatti--she--she's----" + +"She has killed herself." The words were more of an assertion than a +question. + +"Yes ... with that beastly dagger ... found it somehow and stabbed +herself ... what? ... yes ... quite dead ... I'm sure of it...." + +"I'll come round at once. Does Mrs. Carstairs know?" + +"Yes ... what? ... yes, a dreadful shock, but she's quite +calm ... you'll come ... the sooner the better ... many thanks...." + +Anstice hung up the receiver and turned away, feeling almost stunned by +the news he had received. The woman's death, coming on the top of the +events of the preceding twenty-four hours, was in itself sufficient to +shake even his nerve; but he lost no time in obeying the summons and +arrived at Cherry Orchard just as the clock struck twelve. + +He found the entire household up, the tragic news having circulated with +the rapidity peculiar to such catastrophic tidings; and preceded by +Major Carstairs, who met him in the hall, he hurried upstairs to the +room where Tochatti lay in her last sleep. + +It was quite true, as Major Carstairs had said, that she was dead. She +had only too evidently been aware of the dagger's hiding-place, probably +through familiarity with Chloe's movements in normal times; and had +seized a moment when the housekeeper, thinking her asleep, had left her +to procure a fresh stock of candles for the night's vigil, to slip into +Chloe's room in search of the weapon. + +Once in possession of the dagger the rest was easy; and whatever might +be the nature of the emotions which drove her to the deed, whether +remorse, dread of punishment, or some half-crazed fear of what the +future might hold, the result was certain--and fatal. + +She had made no mistake this time. The dagger had been plunged squarely +in her breast; and when the housekeeper stole in again, expecting to +find her charge still asleep, her horrified eyes were met by the sight +of Tochatti's life-blood ebbing over the white sheets, her ears assailed +by the choking gurgle with which the misguided woman yielded up her +life.... + + * * * * * + +"Yes, she is quite dead, poor thing." Anstice replaced the bedclothes +and stood looking down on the dead woman with a steady gaze. "Perhaps, +knowing her former brain weakness, I ought to have expected this. But in +any case, Mrs. Carstairs"--he turned to Chloe, who stood, white and +rigid, by his side--"the decision has been taken out of your--of our +hands now. The matter is bound to come to light, after all." + +"You mean there must be an inquest--an inquiry into this affair?" It was +Major Carstairs who spoke. + +"I'm afraid so--you see a thing like this can't very well be hushed up," +said Anstice rather reluctantly. "And though I can't help feeling +thankful that Mrs. Carstairs will have justice done to her at last, I'm +sure we all feel we would have borne a good deal sooner than let this +dreadful thing happen." + +"Dr. Anstice"--Chloe turned to him almost appealingly--"are we really to +blame? If we hadn't plotted, set a trap to catch my poor Tochatti, this +would not have come to pass; and I shall always feel that by leaving the +dagger in my dressing-case I was the means of bringing this dreadful +tragedy about." + +"Come, Mrs. Carstairs, you mustn't talk nonsense of that kind!" His tone +was bracing. "You were not in the least to blame. If anyone was, I +should be the person, seeing I did not warn you of this possibility. But +you know the poor soul was a very determined woman; and if she had set +her mind on self-destruction she would have carried out her intention +somehow." + +"Well, at least there will be no object in keeping the authorship of +those confounded letters a secret now," said Major Carstairs, putting +his hand kindly on his wife's arm. "After all poor Tochatti has done us +a service by her death which will go far towards wiping out the injury +of her life. And now it is one o'clock, and we none of us had much sleep +last night----" + +"You're right," said Anstice quickly, "and Mrs. Carstairs looks worn +out. Can't you persuade her to go to bed, Major Carstairs? There is +really no need for her to stay here harrowing her feelings another +moment." + +"I'll go," she said at once. "Good-night again, Dr. Anstice. It will +comfort me to know that you don't think me entirely to blame--for this." + +"I think you are as innocent in this matter as in that other one we +discussed to-night," he said quietly. "And this poor woman here, if, as +we may surely believe, she has regained by now the sanity she may have +temporarily lost, would be the last to think any but kindly thoughts of +you in the light of her fuller humanity." + +"Thank you," she said again, as she had said it earlier in the evening; +and once more they exchanged the firm and cordial handshake by which +those who are truly friends seal their parting. + +When he had closed the door behind her he came back to the bedside where +Major Carstairs still stood, looking down on the dead woman with an +unfathomable expression in his eyes. + +"Anstice, from the bottom of my heart I regret the manner of this poor +soul's passing," he said, and his voice was genuinely moved. "But even +so I can't altogether regret that she took this way of cutting the knot. +For now my wife and I may at least hope for the ordinary happiness which +other human beings know. We have been in the shadow a long time, Chloe +and I"--he spoke half to himself--"but now we may surely pray for +sunshine for the rest of our earthly pilgrimage together." + +"Amen to that," said Anstice solemnly; and as the two men shook hands +silently each rejoiced, in his individual fashion, that Chloe Carstairs +had come into her own at last. + + + + +BOOK III + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +Anstice stood on the deck of the P. and O. boat _Moldavia_, looking out +over the blue seas to where Port Said lay white and shining in the rays +of the March sun. + +He had seen the port before, on his way to and from India, but he had +never landed there, and looked forward with some keenness of +anticipation to setting foot in the place which enjoys, rightly or +wrongly, one of the most unsavoury reputations in the world. + +Not that his stay would be long--a night at most--for he purposed +journeying on to Cairo without loss of time, and as the boat drew nearer +and nearer to the quay, whereon a crowd of gesticulating natives raised +the unholy din which every traveller associates with this particular +landing, Anstice turned about and swung down the companion to take a +last look round his dismantled cabin. + +It was now nearly eight weeks since he had quitted Littlefield. Having +disposed of his practice in the nick of time to a college friend who +wished to settle in the country, and having also received an unexpected +windfall in the shape of a small legacy from a distant relation, he had +decided, after a short stay in London, to take a holiday before starting +to work once more. + +His choice of a destination had not been unaffected by the fact of Iris +Cheniston's residence in the land of Egypt. Although he had no +expectation of meeting her--for she and her husband were still somewhere +in the desert, a couple of days' journey from Cairo--there was an odd +fascination in the bare idea of inhabiting, even for a few weeks, the +land which held the girl he still loved. For although he had long since +determined that he must avoid Bruce Cheniston's wife if he wished to +keep his secret inviolate, and incidentally attempt, by starving his +passion of its natural food, to keep his love unsullied by any hint of +envy, any emotion of desire--well, all men are sophists at heart, and in +spite of all his self-assurances that he could visit Egypt without +seeking to gain even a glimpse of Iris, ever in the background of his +thoughts lay a delicious, barely formulated hope that possibly Fate +might vouchsafe to him one fleeting vision on which his hungry heart +might feed in the empty days which must needs ensue. + +There had been changes in Littlefield since that November evening on +which the truth concerning the anonymous letters had come to light. +After Tochatti's death it had naturally proved impossible altogether to +hush up the tragedy and its immediate results, and although Anstice had +done his best to mitigate the position for Major Carstairs and his wife, +the inquest had proved a trying affair for all of them. + +Since the woman was dead there was no need to keep the authorship of +those letters a secret, and before he left Littlefield Anstice had the +satisfaction of knowing that Mrs. Carstairs' name had been effectually +cleared from the slur placed upon it by a censorious and ignorant world. + +When once this was accomplished Major Carstairs insisted on carrying off +his wife and Cherry for a long holiday in the south of France, and +although Cherry wept bitterly at the thought of parting from her beloved +Anstice, he was able to console her by a recital of the wonderful things +she would behold by the shores of the azure Mediterranean. + +He was surprised to find, when the real parting came, how hard it was to +say good-bye to his friends. Although he considered himself unsociable, +independent of the claims of friendship, forced, so to speak, into +misanthropy by the circumstances of his life, he had grown to have a +real esteem for Chloe Carstairs, and the spectacle of her new-born +vitality, her radiant happiness, was one which gave him a very deep and +genuine pleasure. As for Cherry, that quaint child had long since twined +herself round his heart-strings, and although Major Carstairs was, +comparatively speaking, a new acquaintance, Anstice respected the +soldier as an honest man and a gentleman. + +A week after their departure another blow befell Anstice in the sudden +death of his friend Fraser Carey, and when at last he was summoned in +haste to Carey's aid he found that the latter had suffered for years +from a painful internal disease. + +"But why not have submitted to an operation years ago?" Anstice asked +him gently as he sat, impotent to help, by his friend's side in the +light of the dying day. "It might have been successful"--he dare not say +more--"and you would have been spared years of agonizing suffering." + +The other man smiled, and his eyes for a moment lost their look of pain. + +"Quite so," he said gently, "but at the same time I might--probably +should--have died. I took the best advice, nearly ruined myself with +visiting specialists"--he smiled very faintly--"and none could give me +any assurance that I should live through it. And I could not +afford--then--to die." + +"Not afford?" Anstice stared at him in amazement. + +"No. You see"--his voice was a mere thread--"you see I had a wife, +Anstice--oh, no one knows, and my secret is safe with you--and although +I could not live with her ... she was not what the world calls a good +woman, and her ideal of life was not one which I, as a clergyman, could +assist her to realize--well, I could not let her sink altogether for +want of money to keep some sort of home together." + +"You sent her money?" + +"Yes. I sent what I could from my stipend--it wasn't much--God's +ministers are supposed to be content with the promises of treasure in +heaven," said Carey, with a hint of humour in his weak tone. "I made a +little, too, by writing for the reviews. But it was precarious, Anstice, +precarious; and I dared not risk dying, and leaving her in want." + +"And now?" Anstice had noted the tense in which he spoke of his wife, +and he guessed the answer before the other spoke. + +"She is dead--she died three weeks ago," said Carey quietly. "And now I +can give up the struggle myself----" + +"I wish to God you had told me earlier," said Anstice vehemently. "At +least I might have done something for you----" + +"Oh, I had alleviations," said Carey slowly. "When the pain grew +unendurable I had remedies which gave me some relief. But I knew that if +I told you you would seek to persuade me to a course I really could not +have adopted. You mustn't mind me saying it, Anstice. Perhaps I have +been wrong all through." His voice was wistful. "But I did what I +thought was right--and luckily for us poor men God judges us by our +intentions, so to speak, and not by the results." + +The words returned to Anstice's mind three days later as he stood by the +graveside of his friend, and in his heart he wondered whether it were +indeed true that what men called failure might, in the eyes of God, +spell a great and glorious success. + + * * * * * + +The next person to leave Littlefield was Sir Richard Wayne. For since +his daughter's wedding he had been finding life without her almost +unbearable, and at length he avowed that the English climate in winter +was altogether more than any sensible man could be expected to endure--a +somewhat surprising statement from a former M.F.H.--and declared his +intention of paying a visit to Iris and her husband in Egypt forthwith. + +It was of Sir Richard Wayne that Anstice was thinking half an hour later +when the _Moldavia_ had come to her berth at the quay and he was about +to leave the ship on which the short and prosperous voyage had been +made. + +However much the theory of the astral body of man may be denied or +ridiculed, there is no doubt that an unusually vivid thought-presentment +of a friend frequently precedes the appearance of that friend in the +flesh, and it is certain that the mental image of Sir Richard Wayne had +been, for some reason, so strongly before Anstice's mind that in a tall, +grey-clad figure pushing his way vigorously through the crowd of natives +he was inclined to see a striking resemblance to the object of his +thoughts. + +He told himself, rather impatiently, that the notion was absurd. He had +been dwelling for so long on the vision of Sir Richard's daughter that +he had lost, for the moment, his sense of reality, and he turned aside +to reclaim his baggage from the vociferous Arabs who wished, so it +appeared, to appropriate both it and him, without casting another glance +in the direction of Sir Richard's double. + +Yet the hallucination persisted. He could have sworn he heard Sir +Richard's voice raised in protest as the crowding natives impeded his +progress towards the gangway of the boat; and at last Anstice turned +fully round, with half-ashamed curiosity, to see what manner of man this +was who wore the semblance and spoke in the tongue of Sir Richard Wayne. + +As his black eyes roved over the intervening faces they were caught and +held by another pair of eyes--grey eyes these, in whose clear and frank +depths was a strong resemblance to those other wide grey eyes he loved, +and in the next moment Anstice realized that a miracle had happened, and +that the first person to give him greeting in this land of mystery was +none other than Sir Richard Wayne himself. + +About the gladness of the other's greeting there could be no two +opinions. Utterly disregarding the touts and porters who swarmed round +him Sir Richard came forward with outstretched hand, and his eyes fairly +shone with joy and with something that looked like relief. + +"Anstice! By all that's wonderful!" He wrung the younger man's hand +heartily as he spoke. "How came you here--and are you landing for good, +or just taking a look round this God-forsaken old iniquity of a town?" + +"I'm leaving the ship for good. Want to have a look at +Cairo ... interesting place, I've always heard." For a second Anstice +faltered, feeling as though his friend must see through his pretence, and +guess that it was because this land enshrined the one woman in the world +that he was here. But Sir Richard gave no sign of disbelief, and Anstice +was emboldened to proceed. "But you--what are you doing here? I thought +you were somewhere in the desert with--your daughter." + +"So I was, so I was." Sir Richard hesitated, then spoke rapidly. +"Anstice, are you alone--and disengaged? I mean--could your stay in +Cairo be postponed for a few days? I want--I came down here to look for +a doctor--never thinking I'd have the luck to find you----" + +"A doctor?" Beneath the spur of his quick mind Anstice grew pale. "Is +someone ill? Not--not your daughter?" + +"No, not Iris." Unconsciously Anstice breathed a sigh of relief and the +older man glanced at him curiously. "It is Bruce--my son-in-law--who's +ill; and I've come down here to find a doctor. Couldn't get one in +Cairo--it seems the pilgrims have just returned from Mecca bringing +their pet cholera along with them, and the city's got a scare--so I came +down here to meet the boat, meaning to bribe the ship's surgeon to come +back into the desert with me. If he wouldn't respond to _bakshish_ I +should have tried kidnapping," finished Sir Richard grimly, and Anstice +smiled. + +"No need to do that, sir. I'm here, and I'm ready and willing to do all +you require. But first, hadn't I better put in a claim to my belongings? +It seems to me these rascals would think precious little of making off +with all the lot!" + +"Yes--better let me see to it for you," said Sir Richard quickly. "We've +not too much time for the train to Cairo as it is. If you will go and +bespeak an _arabeah_ I'll get your baggage." + +And as Anstice moved to obey, a very tumult in his heart, Sir Richard +turned back to the wildly-shouting crowd and succeeded in reclaiming +Anstice's portmanteau and Gladstone bag from the clutches of the +blue-robed fiends who fought one another for its possession. + +When they were clear of the quay, driving behind the two long-tailed +little horses along the glaring streets, beneath the thinly-leaved and +dusty trees, Anstice turned to Sir Richard interrogatively. + +"Now, sir, can you tell me what's wrong? Mr. Cheniston is ill, you say. +Do you know the nature of his illness?" + +"Enteric, I'm afraid," Sir Richard informed him gravely. "He went on a +shooting expedition a week or two ago with the rich Egyptian for whom he +has been carrying through a big irrigation job, and one day, when, +through a miscalculation, the wine and provisions did not turn up, the +party lunched at a mud-village on eggs and coffee. Being particularly +thirsty Bruce indulged in a small glass of water with slices of citron, +and although the host's servants swore by the Beard of the Prophet and +so on through all their most sacred oaths that they had boiled the water +first, the odds are that they had not, and that it came straight from +the river or some indescribably polluted well. It seems that the +pilgrims had passed that way, and owing to their pleasing habit of +dropping a little of their precious 'holy' water into the wells they +meet, some of those wells are absolute hotbeds of infection, so to +speak." + +"Whew!" Anstice whistled to express his consternation. "And then, of +course, Mr. Cheniston came home and sickened for this illness." + +"Yes. At first he made light of it, said the expedition had been +fatiguing, he had a touch of the sun, and so on. But at last the disease +manifested itself unmistakably, and three days ago I set out for Cairo +to try to get some medical help." + +"There is no doctor out there?" + +"No. You see it is only a tiny village--hardly that--a settlement in the +midst of a little colony of Bedouins. Iris was first persuaded to go +there by a woman she met in Cairo, a Padre's wife who had gone out--at +least the Padre had--to try the effect of the climate on weak lungs. +They have one kiddie, a child of seven or eight, and they were so +pleased with the place that they stayed on, and were the only white +people in the village, with the exception of a young Australian who had +lost his money and went out there to try to grow vegetables, and a +rather eccentric French artist who set up his studio in a sort of +disused fort built on a high rocky plateau about a mile above the little +settlement. He has gone back to France now, taking with him some really +marvellous studies of the desert, so they say." + +"How far is the place from Cairo?" + +"About a day and a half's journey on horseback. Of course, if it had +been possible to bring Bruce in to Cairo that would have been the best +thing. But we daren't take the risk. Mrs. Wood, the Padre's wife, is a +first-class nurse, and she and Iris are doing their very best for the +poor fellow. But still"--Sir Richard shook his head--"there's no doubt +the illness has got a fast grip of him, and I'm afraid of the result, +Anstice, I confess I am afraid." + +He broke off for a moment, then resumed in a brisker tone: + +"Well, here is the station, and now we may expect another uproar over +your precious baggage. The best thing to do is to single out one fellow +and promise him good _bakshish_ if he gets rid of the others; and here +is Mahomed, who is a first-class fellow for the job!" + +He beckoned to a tall, pock-marked Arab in a dusty fez and faded blue +djibbeh, and by dint of lavish promises secured his noisy but efficient +services, with the result that in an incredibly short space of time the +luggage was safely tumbled into the train and Anstice and Sir Richard +faced each other, exhausted but triumphant, in an otherwise empty +carriage. + +"By Jove, but those beggars make me hot!" Anstice threw himself back +into his corner and drew a long breath. "It's always a mystery to me how +people who live in hot climates are so beastly energetic! They seem to +have quicksilver in their veins, not blood." + +"Yet they are lethargic enough at times," returned Sir Richard, pointing +to a recumbent form lying unconcernedly on the platform a few feet from +their open window. "Look at that fellow sleeping there--he doesn't care +in the least what goes on around him--and many times in the street one +has to move off the pavement to avoid stepping on some idle beggar who's +drawn the hood of his garment over his head and gone to sleep, literally +among the feet of the passers-by!" + +As the train proceeded on its way Sir Richard outlined the situation a +little more fully to his keenly-interested companion. + +"When I left, Mrs. Wood had pretty well taken up her abode with Iris," +he said. "Their servants--native, of course--behaved badly, as those +mongrel Arabs often do, and promptly deserted us soon as they found +there was likely to be trouble ahead. All but one, a very decent chap +called Hassan, who is really fond of Iris and would do a lot for her." + +"The other people in the village--Bedouins, I think you said?--how do +they get on with their white neighbours?" + +Sir Richard's forehead suddenly puckered into a worried frown. + +"Not too well," he said slowly. "The fact is, I believe they resented +the European people settling there at all. As I told you, it is a tiny +settlement--just thirty or so Bedouins who cultivate the land and grow +vegetables, which they hawk to other villages a day's march away. They +daren't openly complain, of course, but I believe they would like to +drive the white folks out; especially young Garnett, who is really +beating them at their own game as a clever agriculturist." + +"There is never any trouble, I suppose?" Somehow Anstice felt a vague +uneasiness at the thought of Iris Cheniston shut up in a desert colony +among sullenly hostile neighbours. + +"Oh, no, the Bedouins know the English Government won't allow any +hanky-panky." Sir Richard voiced the assertion so emphatically that a +tiny seed of doubt sprang up in his hearer's heart. "I confess I should +rather like to see Iris and Bruce settle down to civilized life again, +but this is only a holiday, and they won't be there long. Unless----" He +paused and Anstice guessed only too surely the ominous nature of the +pause. + +With an instinctive desire to reassure the other man he spoke quickly. + +"Perhaps when Cheniston is better they will fall in with your advice. No +doubt he will require a change after this illness, and very often, you +know, a man who has been ill takes a dislike to his surroundings, and is +only too ready to exchange them for others." + +"Quite so." Sir Richard spoke absently, looking out of the window the +while, and since he was apparently disinclined for conversation, Anstice +followed his example, seeing plenty to interest him in the panorama +spread before his eyes in this strange and fascinating land, this living +frieze of pictures which might have been transplanted bodily from the +pages of the Old Testament itself. + +Once, when the train came to a standstill at Ismailia, Sir Richard +roused himself to speech. + +"Of course, should the Bedouins ever rise against the strangers in their +midst," he said, repelling with a gesture the attentions of a tall +water-seller who thrust a brass saucer containing a doubtful-looking +liquid through the carriage window, "things might be serious. True, +there are not more than a couple of score of them, and so far, with the +exception of a _fracas_ with Garnett over some vegetables they stole +from him, they have been peaceable enough." + +"I see. And, as you say, they know quite well that the British +Government is behind this handful of English people, and knowing that +reprisals would be certain to follow any lawlessness, I should say they +are too wise to put themselves in the wrong. After all, too, these +people are not doing them any harm by living in their midst." + +"You are right, Anstice, and I'm a silly old fool for letting my +imagination run riot in this way." Sir Richard sat upright and gazed out +at the world of sun and sand through which they were passing. "As you +say, they would not dare--and in any case as soon as Bruce can travel we +will bring them back to civilization." + +"By the way, how soon can we start?" The bare thought of meeting Iris +sent the blood humming wildly through Anstice's veins; and he awaited +Sir Richard's reply with barely-concealed impatience. + +"Well, we shall reach Cairo--if this confounded train doesn't break down +_en route_--about dinner-time. It would be no use attempting to start +to-night--the horses must be ordered for to-morrow morning, as early as +you like. And no doubt you will want to take one or two things with +you." + +Anstice nodded. + +"Yes--but they won't take long to procure. As for baggage--we travel +light?" + +"Yes--just what we can carry. I have plenty of things out there--can +give you all you need," said Sir Richard more briskly. "And if all goes +well we need not anticipate a long stay. Now, how about a cup of tea? +This beastly sand has gone down my throat in bushels." + +He called the Soudanese attendant and gave him an order, and over the +indifferent tea and Huntley and Palmer biscuits which were presently +brought to them, he and Anstice discussed Littlefield and other matters +widely removed from the subject of their former conversation. + +It was seven o'clock when the train finally ran into the station at +Cairo, humming like a beehive with its crowded native life, and ten +minutes later the two men were driving through the busy streets beneath +the clear green evening sky on the way to the hotel chosen by Sir +Richard. + +"The Angleterre--it's quieter than Shepheard's," he said, "and anyhow it +is only for one night. After dinner we'll go and make arrangements for +an early start. That will suit you all right?" + +"The earlier the better," returned Anstice promptly, and as their +carriage drew up before the hotel he sprang out with an eagerness which +seemed to betoken a readiness to start forthwith. + +By ten o'clock that night all arrangements were made, horses bespoken, +baggage packed, and all necessaries purchased, and shortly afterwards +the two men exchanged cordial good-nights and retired to their +respective rooms to seek the refreshment of sleep in preparation for the +morrow's early start. + +But though Sir Richard, his mind relieved by his meeting with Anstice, +fell into a sound slumber ten minutes after he laid his head down on his +pillow, Anstice lay awake all night between the white walls of his +mosquito curtains. + +For there was that in his thoughts which effectually banished sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Anstice never forgot that first day's ride over the desert sand. They +had started early, very shortly, indeed, after daybreak, and by the time +the sun was fully risen they were already some miles on their way. + +It was a heavenly morning, the dry and glittering air full of that +peculiar, crisp sparkle which mounts to one's head like champagne. The +sand shone and twinkled in the yellow sunshine with an almost dazzling +effect, and the pale blue sky had not yet taken on the pitiless +ultramarine hue which comes with the brazen noon. + +The horses, too, seemed alive to the exhilarating quality of the air. +They curvetted and danced over the sand, tossing their arched necks and +lifting their feet daintily as though they were conscious of the beauty +and fitness of their own motion. + +"By Jove, Sir Richard, life is worth living on a morning like this!" +Anstice threw back his head and inhaled large draughts of the +intoxicating, sun-warmed air. "Why on earth do we herd in cities when +there are glorious tracts of desert land where one might pitch one's +tent! I declare I wish I were a nomad myself!" + +"You feel like that?" Sir Richard looked a trifle wistfully at the +younger man, envying him his superior youth and more robust physique. +"For my part I confess to a distrust of the desert. It seems to me as +though there were a blight on these huge tracts of sand, as though the +Creator had regretted their creation, yet was too perfect a Worker to +try, by altering the original purpose of His handiwork, to turn them +into something for which they were not intended." + +He paused, pulling up his horse and turning in his saddle to survey the +yellow and brown waste over which they had come. + +"I suppose, as an Englishman whose forbears have always clung to the +soil, I find more pleasure in beholding an English landscape," he said, +with a smile which was half apologetic. "The ideal of making two blades +of grass spring where there was but one before may not be a very exalted +one, but I confess I see more beauty in a field of grain waving under +the August sun, than in these acres of yellow sand, and the thought of a +perpetual summer, with never the soft grey tones of an autumn sky or the +crisp frostiness of a winter's morning--well, it doesn't appeal to my +John Bull soul!" + +He laughed, ashamed of his vehemence, and the horses sprang gaily +forward, glad to be moving again after even so brief a halt. + +All through the morning they rode, resting for an hour or two at noon; +and in the late afternoon they remounted their horses and fared forth +once more in search of the camping-place Sir Richard had in mind. + +By dint of compasses and an unusually accurate sense of location, the +older man had staked their course with admirable directness, and as the +moon rose they drew rein at the appointed destination, a wild and rocky +valley whose caves offered a natural protection from the chill night +breeze which blew with disconcerting freshness over the loose, +salt-impregnated sand. + +Here, thanks to the ever-useful thermos flask, they enjoyed a sufficient +meal of hot soup, followed by a multitude of sandwiches of divers kinds; +and when, after a pull at their respective flasks, the two lit their +pipes and stretched their limbs, cramped by the day's exertions, +Anstice, at least, felt more at peace with the world than he had felt +for years. + +To be hastening towards Iris Cheniston, to be sure of meeting her within +twenty-four hours, sure of seeing the kind friendliness of her wide grey +eyes, of hearing the soft cooing notes of her voice, was enough to make +a man content with his lot; and the fact that he was journeying towards +her in order to do his best to save the life of the one human being who +stood between him and his happiness lost all its irony when he +remembered that it was in reality Iris herself for whom this service was +undertaken. + +The next morning found them early astir; and as their horses danced over +the sand, literally throwing the miles behind them, Sir Richard's +spirits, which had been somewhat fluctuating, rose with a bound. He +whistled gaily as they rode, ever and anon breaking off to conjecture on +the nature of the welcome they might reasonably expect to receive; and +when he spoke, as he did frequently, of his son-in-law, his +prognostications, in striking contrast with his former pessimism, were +couched in the most hopeful language. + +Strange to say, as his spirits rose, so did those of Anstice sink. An +odd foreboding, a premonition for which he could not account, displaced +the gladness from his heart; and as they rode on and ever onwards he +told himself that they were surely riding towards tragedy. + +Possibly it was the Celtic strain in him which rendered him liable to +these strange and perverse forebodings of evil. On sundry other +occasions in his earlier youth he had fallen with appalling swiftness +from the heights of glad anticipation to the depths of a certain and +most unwelcome gloom; and now, quite suddenly, he found himself involved +in a black and rayless melancholy which seemed to fortell some +catastrophic happening at hand. + +It was with more and more difficulty that he replied to Sir Richard's +hopeful prophecies; and so strong upon him was the premonition of +disaster that when he learned at last that they were within an hour or +two's ride of their destination he spurred on his still willing steed in +a sudden desire to know the worst which was to befall. + +As he stared ahead of him, his eyes beginning to adjust themselves now +to the peculiar conditions of the desert atmosphere, he caught sight of +a speck upon the sand which, unlike the majority of desert objects, the +scanty tamarisk bushes, the low humpbacked hills which here and there +formed an apparently endless chain, appeared to move, to grow almost +imperceptibly larger as the distance between them diminished. + +During their ride over the desert they had met no other human beings. +Once or twice they had seen, to right or left of their track, a +collection of mud huts, overshadowed by the plumy tufts of tall +date-palms, betokening the presence of a handful of _fellaheen_ +scratching a livelihood from the unfriendly sand. Again they had twice +beheld in the far distance a caravan winding its leisurely way upon some +mysterious errand to an unknown destination; but these last had been too +far away for their component parts of horses, camels, merchandise, to be +distinguished; and after a brief glance towards the long snaky lines as +they wound their way through the sand, Sir Richard and Anstice had +wisely refused to strain their eyesight further. + +But this solitary unit on the vast face of the desert was a different +matter; and Anstice gazed steadily ahead in an as yet fruitless attempt +to make out what this thing which appeared to move towards them might +be. + +At first he said nothing, thinking that his eyes might quite conceivably +be playing him tricks, that this apparently moving figure might possibly +be a figment of his brain, or one of those delusive sprites which are +said to haunt the unwary traveller in the desert; but at length, as the +distance between the object and himself diminished more and more +rapidly, until he could have sworn he caught the flutter of a blue robe, +Anstice felt it time to point out the vision or whatever it might be to +his as yet unseeing companion. + +"Sir Richard," he said, so suddenly that Sir Richard, who had been +jogging along sunk in reverie, started in surprise. "Do you see anyone +coming towards us over the sand?" + +Sir Richard, thus appealed to, sat up more erectly in his saddle; and +gazed with his keen old eyes in the direction of Anstice's pointing +hand; and Anstice watched him with an anxiety which was surely out of +place. + +After a moment's fruitless search Sir Richard unslung the field-glasses +which he carried, and applied them to his eyes; and in another moment, +having adjusted the focus, he uttered an exclamation. + +"By Gad, Anstice, you're right! It's a native of sorts, and he is coming +directly towards us. He is too far off for me to distinguish his +features--you look and see what you can make of him." + +He handed the glasses to Anstice, who raised them to his eyes; and after +adjusting the lenses to suit his younger, keener sight, he swept them +round in an attempt to focus the distant object. + +First an apparently illimitable expanse of sky and sand swam slowly into +view, each insignificant landmark in the desert magnified almost +incredibly by the powerful glasses; and at last the blue-robed native +appeared suddenly as though only a stone's throw away from the man who +searched for him. + +The glass revealed him as an Arab of an ordinary type clad in a faded +blue djibbeh, over which he wore the short grey coat so inexplicably +beloved of the native. On his head was a scarlet fez; and his blue robe +was gathered up in such a way as to leave bare his brown and sinewy legs +as he paddled ruthlessly and unhesitatingly over the burning sand. + +As he lowered the glasses Anstice gave a short description of the +advancing native to Sir Richard, adding: + +"He seems to be in something of a hurry--he's covering the ground in a +most energetic fashion--and he really does appear to be making straight +for us!" + +All at once Sir Richard's lately-born optimism fell from him like an +ill-fitting garment. Taking the glasses back he adjusted them once more +with fingers that absolutely trembled; and when after a long and steady +stare he lowered them and turned to his companion his face was very +serious. + +"Anstice, I hope to God I'm mistaken, but that fellow looks uncommonly +like Hassan--and from the haste he's making I should say he had been +sent out to meet us. And that can only mean disaster--either Bruce is +worse, or----" He broke off suddenly, his fine old face suddenly grey. + +"Oh, it won't be so bad as that, sir!" Unconsciously Anstice replied to +the unspoken suggestion. "Possibly your daughter has sent this chap to +relieve your mind--Cheniston may have taken a turn for the better--heaps +of things may have happened." + +"Quite so." Sir Richard was replacing his glasses in their case with +oddly fumbling movements. "But I wish to God we were safely back ... we +can't even see the village for these confounded palm trees!" + +As though the horses understood and sympathized with the mental tension +of their riders they sprang forward with renewed energy; and some hard +riding brought the two men within hailing distance of the approaching +native. + +"It is Hassan all right," said Sir Richard with a rather painful attempt +at composure. "Let us hurry on and find out what is amiss at the +village." + +As the native drew nearer it was easy to see that he was the bearer of +important news. His coffee-coloured face was shining with drops of +perspiration, and his breath came in pitiful gasps as he hurried up to +Sir Richard and began pouring out his story in a flood of mixed Arabic +and English which was quite unintelligible to Anstice. + +"Speak slower, man, slower!" Sir Richard spoke emphatically, and for a +space the native obeyed; but it was evident from the look of mingled +consternation and rage in his hearer's face that the story was one of +dire import. + +When, presently, the Arab ceased, his tongue positively lolling out of +his mouth like that of a thirsty dog, Sir Richard turned to Anstice with +an air of determination. + +"Things have been moving, with a vengeance, in our absence," he said +grimly. "It seems that yesterday morning early young Garnett found a +couple of Bedouins prowling about his place and helping themselves to +his choicest produce; and being a hotheaded young fool he let fly at +them with his revolver, the result being that by a most unlucky chance +he winged one of the rascals and the other assisted him off, vowing +vengeance on the whole little English colony of eight souls. It was not +an empty threat either; for when Hassan, feeling uneasy at the idea of +harm coming to Iris, slunk into the village to find out, if possible, +what mischief was afoot, he ran slick into a conclave of the brutes, and +hiding behind a rock heard their plans." + +"They were pretty deadly, I suppose?" + +"They merely embraced the wholesale massacre, under cover of night, of +the English men and women who had been fools enough to trust their good +faith," returned Sir Richard shortly. "Well, Hassan, whose wits are as +sharp as his ears are long, lost no time in going back to his mistress +with the information; and between them they evolved a plan which might, +with the most marvellous luck, be successful." + +"And that plan, sir?" Anstice's tone was tense. + +"Aided by Hassan, at the approach of night the whole little group of +white people crept safely into the Fort of which I told you; and when, a +couple of hours later, the Bedouins came forth intent on reprisals, they +found the houses of the English empty, and realized, too late, that the +Fort was quite a different nut to crack." + +"It is a fairly safe building?" + +"Well, it has certain natural advantages, I grant." Sir Richard spoke +rather dubiously. "We went over it one day, in a spirit of curiosity; +and I have a pretty clear recollection of the place. To begin with, as I +told you the Bedouin encampment is a sort of oasis in a valley at the +foot of some quite respectably high rocks. You know the desert is not, +as some people imagine, merely a flat expanse of sand. Here and there +are ranges of hills, limestone, and so on--and now and then one comes +across quite a chain of rocky places which in another country would be +looked upon as precipices." + +He paused; and Anstice waited eagerly for him to continue. + +"Well, this Fort is, very luckily, built on a plateau overlooking the +valley. On one side the ground slopes gently down to the little colony, +but on the other the Fort overlooks a high precipice of rock which of +course affords no means of transit from the ground below; so that on +that side the place is absolutely impregnable." + +"I see." Anstice's tone held a note of relief. "Well, that sounds fairly +promising--as I suppose it means there are only three sides to defend +instead of four." + +"Well, it is a circular building," Sir Richard explained, "and there are +only slits in the walls on two sides; and also, fortunately for us, only +one means of entrance or exit, in the shape of a massive door which +could hardly be forced without a charge of dynamite. It was the +stronghold, so I gather, of a kind of robber chief in the old days, and +doubtless was built to resist possible assaults from lawless tribesmen. +But there is one weak spot in the building--one or rather two places +which are a decided menace to any defence." + +"And those----" + +"Well, it seems this French artist, Massenet by name, sought and +obtained permission from the authorities who leased him the building to +throw out a couple of windows in the upper floor which enabled him to +convert the place into a very passable studio. He was a rich man--son of +a well-known Paris banker, and the cost did not intimidate him. But the +result is that those two big windows, which only boast the flimsiest of +sand-shutters, are, without a doubt, capable of being made into means of +entry, provided, of course, that the defenders within are short of +ammunition or are unable to construct efficient barricades." + +"I see. I suppose they are a fair height from the ground?" + +"Yes--but there are such things as ladders," said Sir Richard dryly. "Of +course a mere handful of men, given a sufficiency of ammunition, might +keep an attacking party at bay almost indefinitely. But I'm afraid our +supply of munitions is somewhat scanty, and with women--and children--to +defend----" He broke off suddenly as the native began to speak. + +"You go a-back, bring help, bring many gentlemens. Me and the Effendi +take care of ladees ... but you go quick--bring the soldiermans...." He +stopped, as though at the end of his suggestions. + +"Yes." Sir Richard's face lighted up. "I see what he means. Anstice, you +or I must make all speed back to Cairo and fetch out some soldiers. The +barracks swarm with them, and if I know them they'll jump at the chance +of a little scrap like this. With luck you'd be back in three +days--less, if you pushed your horses--and by God I believe we could +hold the Fort till then!" + +As he finished the native nodded his head as though in approval of the +plan; but suddenly his expressive features lengthened, and he said +something in a lower tone to Sir Richard in which the words "_El Hakim_" +occurred more than once. + +Sir Richard listened restively, and uttered an exclamation of annoyance. + +"Well, well, there's no need to repeat it so often! Anstice, this fellow +points out that after all I had better be the one to go for help, as he +says your aid is urgently required at the Fort. Besides Cheniston, who +seems, from what I can gather, to be in about the same state as before, +Garnett got wounded last night when the besiegers tried to force an +entrance, and I suppose the sooner you get to them the better." + +"Well, there's something in that," conceded Anstice, reluctant to deepen +the disappointment in Sir Richard's face. "You see, sir, the sooner I +fix up Cheniston the better--but why shouldn't this fellow go and fetch +help instead of you?" + +Sir Richard's eyes brightened, but after another colloquy with the Arab +his former air of dejection returned. + +"He says--confound him--that the authorities in Cairo would pay more +attention to me than to him--and I suppose he's not far wrong. Also he +points out that with his knowledge of the land and of the language he +would be of more use to the garrison"--he used the word half +ashamedly--"than I, who know little of either. His plan is for me to +return immediately with all possible speed to fetch help, while you and +he seek, under cover of night, to enter the Fort, a task which I +gather," said Sir Richard grimly, "is not altogether devoid of risk." + +Anstice said nothing, but his mouth was set in a hard line which +betokened ill for anyone who attempted to bar his way into that same +Fort, and with a half-strangled sigh Sir Richard continued his speech. + +"It seems on the whole the best plan, though God knows it's hard to turn +round and leave my only daughter in this damned hole. Still, I see the +logic of the thing, and if you are willing to go forward, why, there's +nothing left for me but to turn back." + +"I'll go forward all right," replied Anstice quietly. "And if you will +trust me, I will do my best to carry on until you arrive with +reinforcements." + +"In that case I'll go at once," said Sir Richard more briskly. "Which is +the better horse? Yours, I think--and if so I'll take it and hurry back +to Cairo. But first let's have a look at the provisions--I'm a tough old +fellow and can do without a lot of stuff, but I daren't risk failing on +the way. Luckily we are lavishly provided." + +Hearing this speech the Arab smiled gleefully and produced from some +mysterious recess in his robe a square package, tied with string, and +handed it, still smiling, to Sir Richard, who took it with a rather +mystified expression. + +"It's food--what you call grub," explained Hassan proudly. "The ladees +make it--say it carry the Effendi back to _le Caire_"--in common with +many Arabs he gave the city its French name--"and it _good_ grub too!" + +Sir Richard slipped the packet into his pocket with a rather uncertain +smile, and turned to the matter of transit without loss of time. + +Anstice's horse was the fresher of the two, and it was decided that Sir +Richard should start at once, and when at a safe distance dismount and +rest until moonrise, after which the night hours might profitably be +spent in journeying onwards, since night-riding in the desert is +infinitely preferable to riding by day. + +"With luck you should make Cairo very early on the day after to-morrow," +said Anstice, who had been making a calculation. "And if you could get +started again without loss of time you could be here in just under three +days. But that would mean hard riding, I'm afraid----" + +"I'm pretty tough," said Sir Richard again. "And after all you'll have +the harder part. I suppose"--he turned to Hassan--"I suppose there is no +possibility of getting help nearer than Cairo--no village or settlement +to which I might apply?" + +No, Hassan opined, it was of no use seeking help elsewhere. The one or +two native villages within call were quite inadequate to render +assistance, and to apply to them would be a loss of time which would +have no practical result. + +When once Sir Richard was assured of the impossibility of procuring help +nearer than Cairo he wasted no further time in discussion, but mounted +his horse with a businesslike air and proceeded to take leave of Anstice +with a heartiness which but thinly disguised his real and gnawing +anxiety. + +"I will make all possible speed," he said, as he settled himself +sturdily in his saddle. "And with luck three days should see me back. In +the meantime"--for a moment his voice faltered, but he pulled himself +together pluckily--"I leave my girl in your care. And I know"--Sir +Richard spoke very slowly--"I know you will guard her, if need be, with +your life...." + +"Thank you for your trust, Sir Richard." In Anstice's hand-grip Sir +Richard read the measure of his resolve. "I will not fail you--nor your +daughter--so long as I am alive." + +Sir Richard wrung his hand, tried to speak, and failed, utterly, to +articulate a syllable. But the look which the two men exchanged spoke +more eloquently than words, and Sir Richard, as he rode away on his +mission, knew that so far as mortal man might compass success his +daughter's safety was assured at this man's hands. + + * * * * * + +When Sir Richard had ridden away, sitting squarely in his saddle, with +never a backward look, Anstice turned to Hassan. + +"Now," he said, "how do we proceed? I mean"--he remembered that the man +understood little English--"do we go straight back to the village--and +what do we do with this horse?" + +Hassan's explanation was necessarily somewhat unintelligible, being +couched in a polyglot mixture of French and English, with a few words of +Arabic thrown in, but by dint of patient inquiry Anstice presently made +out the drift of his involved speech. Briefly, his plan was as follows. + +It would be useless, so Hassan asserted, to attempt to return to the +village and enter the Fort until darkness covered the land. The +Bedouins, it seemed, already surrounded the place so that Hassan's +escape had been a matter of some difficulty, and it would be necessary +to proceed cautiously, with careful strategy, in order to re-enter the +place in safety. + +When once it was comparatively dark--if possible before the moon +rose--the attempt must be made; and in the meantime Hassan considered +the wisest thing to do was to shelter somewhere and rest in preparation +for the evening's adventures. + +The horse, he decided, must be turned loose outside the village. The +Bedouins, as he pointed out, would be likely to snap up readily a horse +of such good appearance, and in any case Hassan was plainly of the +opinion that a horse's existence was of very little importance when +graver matters were at stake. + +Although, as an Englishman, Anstice was inclined to rate the horse's +value as a living creature more highly than the Arab was disposed to do, +he saw the reason of the plan, and agreed to follow Hassan's advice in +every particular. + +Having come to this wise resolve, he invited Hassan to choose a place +where the time of waiting might be passed, and the native deciding on a +little sandy hollow between two low, round-backed hills, he proceeded to +ensconce himself more or less comfortably on the loose and drifting +sand, and prepared to endure the waiting-time with what patience he +might. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +"Dr. Anstice! Is it really--_you_?" + +Iris stood opposite to him with an expression of wondering surprise in +her wide grey eyes, and as he held her hand in his Anstice noted the +beating of a little blue vein in her temple--a sure sign, with this +girl, of some inward agitation which could not be altogether concealed. + +"Yes. It is really I." Although he spoke calmly he was to the full as +agitated as she, and he could not keep his eager eyes from studying her +face, in which he found a dozen new beauties for which their separation +had not prepared him. She was a little thinner than he remembered her, +but the African sun had kissed her fine skin so warmly that any pallor +which might well distinguish her in these troublous days was effectually +disguised. + +With an effort he relinquished her hand and spoke with well-simulated +indifference. + +"It was by the merest chance that Sir Richard and I met in Port Said," +he said. "I was taking a holiday--the first I've had for years"--he +smiled--"and was only too glad to see a familiar face in a strange +land." + +"And you have given up your holiday to come to our help," she said in a +low voice. "You don't know how thankful I am to see you--but for your +own sake I wish you had not come." + +"That's rather unkind," he said, with a smile. "Here have I been +flattering myself that you would welcome me--well, warmly--and you as +good as tell me I am not wanted!" + +"Indeed I did not mean that." She too smiled, but quickly grew grave +again. "If you only knew _how_ glad I am to see you. We--we are in +rather a bad way here, you know, Dr. Anstice, and--and your help will be +valuable in more ways than one." + +"I hope it may prove so," he said. Anstice and Hassan had made a +perilous, but successful, entry into the little Fort, pursued, it is +true, by a shower of bullets, for the Bedouins were armed with a strange +collection of weapons, ranging from antique long-barrelled guns to +modern rifles. "May I see him at once? The sooner the better, as I am +here at last." + +"Yes. I want you to see him as soon as possible." Iris hesitated, and in +her eyes was the shadow of a haunting dread. "You will find him very +ill, I am afraid. We have done what we could--Mrs. Wood has been +splendid--but he doesn't seem to get any better. Of course in ordinary +circumstances we should not have dared to move him, but we had to do it, +and I am sure it has been very bad for him." + +"Well, we must see what we can do now," said Anstice in as reassuring a +tone as he could muster. "Where is he? On this floor, I suppose?" + +"Yes. Next door. One of the rooms which the artist used is furnished, +more or less, as a bedroom, and it is fairly comfortable. The other +rooms--this and the ones downstairs--are almost empty except for a few +chairs and a kind of bench we use for a table." + +"I see." Anstice looked round the room, noting the rough stone walls, +the ancient, uneven floor, uncovered by so much as a piece of matting; +and then his glance returned to the large modern window which looked so +incongruous in its mediæval setting. + +The room into which a moment later Iris showed him was of the same shape +and size as the one they had just quitted; and boasted the second of the +windows which might, were help too long delayed, prove the undoing of +the little garrison. It was, however, roughly furnished, though it was +evident that the Frenchman, for all his reputed wealth, had been no +Sybarite by inclination. The bed was of a common pattern, and the few +other things scattered about on the scantily matted floor were of the +most primitive description. + +As a room for an invalid the apartment certainly left much to be +desired; but Anstice did not waste time over his surroundings. He moved +quickly towards the bed; and stood looking down upon the man who lay +thereon in silence. + +And as he looked at the wreck of the once gallant Bruce Cheniston, his +heart sank within him; for if ever Death had printed his sign-manual on +a living man's face, it was written here too legibly for even an +untrained eye to miss its significance. + +Cheniston was wasted to a shadow by fever and suffering. From his +haggard face his sunken eyes looked out with an expression of anguish +which was surely mental as well as physical; and though he evidently +recognized his visitor, he was too weak to do more than move one +fleshless hand an inch or two towards Anstice by way of greeting. + +Hiding the shock Cheniston's appearance had given him as well as he +might, Anstice sat down beside the bed and took the painfully thin hand +in his own. + +"Cheniston, I'm sorry to see you in such a bad way." He spoke very +gently, his eyes on the other's face the while. "It was hard luck +falling ill out here--but I've brought up several things from Cairo that +will give you relief in no time." + +Over Cheniston's face flitted the ghost of a smile; and his voice, when +he replied, gave Anstice a fresh shock, so thready and devoid of all +tone was it. + +"Thanks--very much--Anstice." He spoke slowly, with spaces between the +words. "I'm very ill--I know--I think I'm going--to peg out--but I can't +bear--to think--of Iris." + +He stopped, quite exhausted by the effort of speech; and Anstice, more +moved than he cared to show, laid the thin hand back on the bed, and +took his patient's temperature, his heart sinking still lower as he read +the thermometer's unimpeachable testimony. + +Strive as he might, he could not rid himself of a fear that Bruce +Cheniston's earthly race was ran; and catching sight of Iris' face as +she stood on the opposite side of the bed, he felt, with a quick +certainty, that she too realized that only by a miracle could her +husband be restored to the health and vigour to which his young manhood +surely entitled him. + +"Come, Cheniston," he said presently, in answer to Bruce's last words, +"you mustn't talk of pegging out. You have been bad, I can see that, but +you know dozens of travellers in Egypt enjoy a taste of enteric and come +through it as good as new. You got this through drinking polluted water, +I understand?" + +"Yes." Bruce smiled, haggardly, once more. "Too bad, wasn't it, that +after playing with water ever since I came out here it should turn on me +in the end. Serves me right--for--trusting an Arab--I suppose." + +His voice died weakly away; and Anstice gently bade him keep quiet for a +while. + +"No use talking and exciting yourself," he said, for he could see the +other's stock of strength was lamentably small. "Lie still and allow me +to talk over affairs with Mrs. Cheniston--we will put our heads together +and evolve some plan for your benefit." He hardly knew what he said, so +filled was his heart with a pity in which now there was no faintest +tinge of resentment for the unfair bargain which this man had once +driven with him. + +With a sigh Cheniston closed his eyes, and appeared to relapse once more +into a kind of stupor; and when, in obedience to a silent gesture, Iris +withdrew to the window, Anstice joined her there immediately. + +Such remedies as yet remained to be tried Anstice determined to employ; +but though he told himself fiercely that if mortal man could save Bruce +Cheniston from the grave he should assuredly be saved, he experienced +that hopeless feeling which all who gaze in the very face of death know +only too well; and he did not dare to meet Iris' eyes as he conversed +with her in a carefully-lowered tone. + +"I'll sit up to-night, Mrs. Cheniston, and you must try to get some +sleep. I suppose"--he broke off suddenly, remembering the position in +which they stood--"I suppose some of you watch--for the enemy"--he +laughed with something of an effort--"every night?" + +"Yes. I don't think we any of us slept last night," said Iris quietly. +"You see we are so short-handed--only Mr. Wood and Mr. Garnett and +Hassan know anything about fire-arms; and Mrs. Wood and I, and Rosa, +Mrs. Wood's nurse, have been busy looking after Bruce and little Molly +Wood." + +"Of course. Well, I think the first thing to do, after I have given Mr. +Cheniston this"--he had been mixing something in a little glass as he +spoke--"is to meet and hold a council of war, with a view to the most +useful disposition of our forces. After all"--he spoke more lightly, so +keen was his desire to see her look less anxious--"we are not by any +means a force to be despised. We have four able-bodied men among us; and +this place, from what I can gather, looks pretty impregnable, on one +side at least." + +"Yes. Even Mr. Garnett admits that the Bedouins could hardly swarm up +that rocky wall," said Iris, with a slightly more cheerful air. "And of +course, too, we have not got to hold out indefinitely; for if my father +reaches Cairo in good time we may have the relieving force here in less +than three days." + +"Of course we may!" His tone was resolutely optimistic. "Now, as soon as +Mr. Cheniston drinks this we'll set to work." + +He approached the bed, and having with some difficulty roused Cheniston +from his stupor, administered the dose deftly; after which he turned to +Iris once more. + +"You spoke of a nurse just now. Who is she?" + +"Oh, she is only a children's nurse, and rather a broken reed at the +best of times," said Iris ruefully. "She had hysterics all last night, +but she's a bit more sensible to-day." + +"Hysterics or no, she can keep watch for half an hour," said Anstice +rather grimly. "Suppose you find her and send her to me. Would you +mind?" + +"I'll go at once." Iris turned towards the door, and Anstice noted with +a pang at his heart that she was certainly thinner and moved with less +buoyancy than of old. "You--you won't be too severe with her, Dr. +Anstice? After all, she is only a young girl, and she has gone through +quite a lot since yesterday morning!" + +"Oh, I won't bite her head off," said Anstice, with a short laugh of +genuine amusement. "But we have no use for hysterical young women here; +and no doubt when she understands that she will amend her ways." + +"Very well. I will go and find her." With a last look towards the bed +Iris vanished; and for a brief moment Anstice was left alone, to wonder +at the strange and unexpected situation in which he now found himself, +shut up in this lonely building in the heart of the desert with a +handful of souls for whose safety he could not but feel himself largely +responsible. + +He did not attempt to disguise from himself that the outlook was +decidedly unpromising. Even though Sir Richard reached Cairo without +mishap, some time must necessarily elapse before he could gather +together what Iris had called the relieving force; and although Anstice +had no reason to doubt the staunchness and courage of his +fellow-defenders, he could not fail to realize that as a fighting unit +they were altogether outmatched by the two or three score of enemies who +were by now, apparently, thirsting savagely for their blood. + +Then, too, the shadow of death already hovered over the little garrison; +and as Anstice turned once more to survey the pale and wasted features +of the man who had supplanted him in the one supreme desire of his life, +he told himself that it would be a miracle if Bruce Cheniston lived long +enough to see the arrival of the help on which so much depended. + +"If I had got here a week--three days ago, I might have done something," +he told himself rather hopelessly. "But now I'm very much afraid it is +too late. He is going to die, I'm pretty sure of that, though I hope to +God I may be mistaken; and heaven only knows what will happen in the +course of the next three days." + +As he reached this point in his meditations a voice in his ear made him +start; and turning, he beheld a pale and distraught-looking young woman +who might in happier circumstances have laid claim to a certain +uninspired prettiness. At this moment, however, her eyes red-rimmed with +lack of sleep, her ashy-coloured hair limp and dishevelled round her +unintellectual forehead, she was rather a piteous object; and in spite +of his resolve to speak bracingly to her Anstice's voice was quite +gentle as he replied to her murmured question. + +"Yes, I am Dr. Anstice, and I want you to be good enough to sit here and +look after Mr. Cheniston while I talk over matters with the other +gentlemen." + +"Yes, sir." She cast a swift look at the bed, and then hastily averted +her pale-brown eyes. "Mr. Cheniston--he--he won't die, will he, sir? I +mean, not immediate, like?" + +"No, he will not die immediately," said Anstice reassuringly. "All you +have to do is to sit here, beside the bed"--he had noticed how she kept +her distance from the aforesaid bed, and placed her in the chair he had +vacated with a firm pressure there was no resisting--"and watch Mr. +Cheniston carefully. If he shows signs of waking come for me. But don't +disturb him in any way. You understand?" + +The girl said, rather whimperingly, that she did; and with a last glance +at Cheniston, who still lay sunk in a dreary stupor, Anstice went +quietly from the room in search of his comrades in misfortune. + +He found them in the room in which he had first seen Iris; and he joined +the conclave without loss of time. + +"Oh, here you are!" Iris broke off in the middle of a sentence and came +forward. "Mrs. Wood, this is Dr. Anstice; and this"--she turned to a +tall, clean-shaven man dressed, rather unconventionally, in the clothes +of a clergyman--"is Mr. Wood. Here is Mr. Garnett, and that is all, with +the exception of Molly." + +She drew forward a child of about Cherry Carstairs' age, a pale, fragile +child in whose face Anstice read plainly the querulousness of an +inherited delicacy of constitution. + +"She ought really to be asleep," said Mrs. Wood, a short, rather +good-looking woman of a florid type, whose subdued voice and air were at +variance with the cheerful outline of her features. "But somehow night +and day have got mixed up at present--in fact, my watch has stopped, and +I don't know what time it is." + +"It is just ten o'clock, Mrs. Wood." It was Roger Garnett who +volunteered the information; and as Anstice turned to discover what +manner of man the speaker might be he was relieved to find that the +young Australian wore an unmistakably militant air. He was of average +height, with powerful shoulders; and in his blue eyes burned a lust for +battle which was in no way diminished by the fact that his left arm was +bound up just below the elbow. + +"Brute dotted me one there," he explained casually as he saw Anstice's +glance fall on the bandage. "Thought at first he'd broken a bone, but he +hadn't. It was only a flesh wound, and Mrs. Wood did it up in the most +approved St. John style!" + +"I'll look at it for you presently, if you like," said Anstice, "though +it appears to be most scientifically bandaged. Now, what I should like +to know is this. Did these fellows attack you last night? They did? At +what time--and in what force did they come?" + +"It was just before dawn--the recognized time for a night attack, eh?" +Garnett's blue eyes twinkled. "They thought it was going to be a soft +job, I believe; but they had apparently forgotten that the door was +pretty well impregnable, thanks to the jolly old bandit, or whatever he +was, who used to retire here with his doubtless ill-gotten gains! And as +they had forgotten to provide themselves with any means of reaching +these windows the attack failed, so to speak." + +"I gather you were looking out? Any casualties?" Anstice put the +question coolly; and young Garnett grinned. + +"Yes, siree--one for which by the grace of God I may consider myself +responsible. They were all arguing in the courtyard below when I gave +them a kind of salute from up here, and by gosh, you should have seen +the beggars scatter! One of them got it in the thigh, at least so I +deduce from the fact that he had to be assisted away, groaning!" + +"They didn't return?" + +"No. Clambered over the wall and made tracks for home, sweet home +instanter." + +"To tell you the truth, Dr. Anstice"--it was Mr. Wood who spoke, and +Anstice turned quickly towards him--"I do not myself believe that they +will attack us again at present. They have now found it impossible to +force an entrance unseen; and I should not be surprised if their plan of +campaign included waiting, and trying to starve us out. A policy of +masterly inaction, so to speak." + +"Do you know, I rather agree with the Padre," said Garnett thoughtfully. +"Of course they have not a notion that we have sent for help; and though +they saw Dr. Anstice arrive with Hassan, it is quite possible that in +the dusk they thought it was one of us who had made a futile sortie with +the Arab." + +"I daresay you are right," said Anstice thoughtfully. "But I suppose you +do not propose we should relax our vigilance on that account?" + +"No." Mr. Wood looked keenly at the speaker, and appeared reassured by +something he read in the other's face. "Last night we watched both this +window and that of the other room--the one where Mr. Cheniston is +lying----" + +"It is unfortunate that he should be in one of the rooms where there is +a possibility of trouble," said Anstice, rather worried by the notion. +"I suppose the others are really uninhabitable?" + +"Well, there is no possibility of admitting sufficient air," said Mrs. +Wood practically. "There is a little hole where we snatch a moment's +rest now and then, but for a man with fever----" + +"No, I suppose he must stay where he is." Anstice genuinely regretted +the necessity. "The only thing to do is to try to draw the enemy's fire +to the other window, if occasion arises. Now, how do we divide our +forces? Mrs. Cheniston"--he spoke the name firmly now--"you, I suppose, +will watch your husband, and if I may suggest that I take the window in +that room under my charge--Hassan might be at hand to take my place when +I'm occupied with Mr. Cheniston----" + +"Then Mr. Garnett and I will be responsible for the watch in this room," +said the clergyman quietly. "The others--my wife and Rosa--can take it +in turn to relieve Mrs. Cheniston. How does that plan strike you, Dr. +Anstice?" By common consent they began to look on Anstice as their +leader. + +"A very sensible plan," said Mrs. Wood quickly, "But I positively insist +upon Mrs. Cheniston having some sleep. She was up all night and has not +rested a moment to-day." + +"What about me, Mummy?" A rather fretful little voice interrupted the +speaker, as Molly pressed closely to her side. "What's me and Rosa going +to do? There isn't any beds and the bench is so hard!" + +"Poor kiddie!" Anstice's heart was touched by this lamentable wail. +"Suppose you let me see what I can do to make you a bed, Molly! I'm a +doctor, you know, and doctors know more about making beds than ordinary +people!" + +The child regarded him with lack-lustre eyes which were quite devoid of +any childish gaiety; and for a moment she appeared to revolve the +question in her mind. Finally she decided that he was to be trusted, for +she nodded her weary little head and put her thin, hot hand into the one +he extended to her. + +"The room opposite to this is our bedroom," said Iris, with a faint +smile. "Shall I come too, Molly, and show Dr. Anstice where to find the +things?" + +"Yes. You come too." The other moist hand sought Iris' cooler one; and +between them they led the poor child into the room Iris indicated. + +Here, with a little ingenuity, a bed was made up of chairs and cushions, +which Molly was too worn out to resist; and having seen her sink at once +into an uneasy slumber, the two returned to the larger room, where the +others still held whispered conclave. + +"Dr. Anstice"--Iris laid her hand on his arm, her voice full of the +sweetest contrition--"you have had nothing to eat and you must be +famished." + +"I'm not hungry," he assured her truthfully; but she refused to listen +to his protests; and calling Mrs. Wood to her assistance she soon had a +meal ready for him. Although the resources of the establishment were +limited to tinned food and coffee boiled over a little spirit stove, +Anstice was in no mood to criticize anything which Iris set before him. +Indeed he could hardly take his eyes from her as she ministered to him; +and the food he ate might have been manna for anything he knew to the +contrary. + +Having finished his hasty meal and assured his kind hostesses that he +felt a hundred per cent better thereby, Anstice turned to Mr. Wood with +a new seriousness. + +"It is nearly eleven o'clock," he said, "and I suppose we should be +thinking of taking up our positions? If you and Mr. Garnett are ready, +I'll call Hassan to take charge of the other window for a little while, +and have a look at my patient yonder." + +The other men agreed; and Anstice left them stationing themselves at +their posts while he entered the next room and relieved the frightened +Rosa from her task of watching the invalid. + +As he approached Cheniston's side he saw that as yet no fatal change had +occurred. Bruce still lay in a kind of stupor, half-sleep, +half-unconsciousness; but his pulse was not perceptibly weaker, and for +a wild moment Anstice considered the possibility of his patient's +recovery--a possibility which, however, he dared hardly entertain as he +looked at the haggard face, the sunken eyes, the peeling lips. + +When Iris entered a minute or two later Anstice gave her a few +directions, bidding her call him immediately should Bruce awaken; and as +she acquiesced and sat down on the hard chair lately vacated by the +maid, Anstice looked at her with a feeling of rather helpless +compassion. + +"Mrs. Cheniston, I'm so awfully sorry to have to ask you to sit up. +You're worn out, I know, and I wish you could get some sleep." + +"Oh, don't bother about me!" She smiled up at him, and his heart +contracted within him at the look of fatigue in her face. "I'm immensely +strong, you know--and I can sleep to-morrow. Only"--the smile faded out +of her eyes, leaving them very sad--"do you think there is any +possibility of Bruce being better in the morning?" + +"Yes--he is no worse than when I saw him an hour or two ago," Anstice +assured her. "And in a bad case like this even a negative boon of that +kind is something to be thankful for." + +She looked at him again, rather wistfully this time; but he did not meet +her eyes; and presently he withdrew, leaving her to her lonely watch; +while he went to take up his vigil at the window in preparation for any +possible attack. + +But that night passed without adventure of any kind. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +It was on the afternoon of the following day that a new and serious +complication arose. + +The night had passed without incident of any kind; and shortly after +sunrise the little party met to compare notes of their respective +vigils. + +All through the night Anstice had come and gone by Cheniston's bedside; +but although there was no improvement in his patient's condition, +neither did he seem to have progressed any further into the grim Valley +of the Shadow; and although this extreme weakness and prostration were +ominous enough, Anstice still cherished that very faint, very timid hope +which had been born on the previous night. + +He had never wished so fervently for the power to save a life as in this +particular case. Gone was all remembrance of the former ill-feeling +between them, of the unfair and cruel bargain which this man had forced +upon him to the utter destruction of his life's happiness. He forgot +that Bruce Cheniston had been unjust, callous, a very Shylock in his +eager grasping of his pound of flesh; and he remembered only that this +man had won Iris' love, and thereby established his claim to any service +which the man who had also loved Iris might reasonably bestow. + +The fact that Iris must needs be adversely affected by her husband's +death was sufficient in itself to rouse his wish to save Cheniston's +life if that life could be saved; and during the day, when the vigil of +the little garrison might be relaxed, he was assiduous in his care of +the man who lay so desperately ill in the quiet room overlooking the +sun-baked desert. + +Only once Cheniston roused himself sufficiently to hold a few minutes' +laboured conversation with Anstice; and afterwards the latter was not +perfectly certain of Bruce's complete understanding of the words he +used. + +"Iris--how is she?" His voice was so weak that Anstice could barely hear +it; but he guessed what it was that the other man wished to ask; and +answered at once: + +"Mrs. Cheniston is quite well--only a little tired. She is lying down +for an hour, but if you want her I'll go and call her." + +"No. Don't disturb her," said Bruce feebly; and then, after a pause, he +uttered the words which, later, seemed to Anstice a reflection on his +perfect mental poise at the moment. "Poor little Iris--it wasn't fair to +marry her--I wish to God I'd left her--to you." + +For a minute Anstice sat silent, absolutely stunned by this +extraordinary statement; and before he could speak the weak voice began +again. + +"You loved her--so did I--in a way--but I've never really loved +anyone--but--Hilda Ryder." The unconscious pathos in his tone robbed the +words of all offence. "But she's a dear little soul--Iris--and I only +wish I'd not been beast enough--to marry her--to spite you----" The thin +voice trailed away into a whisper and Anstice spoke resolutely. + +"See here, Cheniston, you're ill and you don't know what you're saying. +Don't talk any more, there's a good chap. You only tire yourself out to +no purpose." + +But with the perversity of fever Cheniston would not be gainsaid. + +"I'm all--right." His hollow voice and laboured breath gave the lie to +his assertion. "But--if I die--and the rest of you get out +alive--you--you'll look after Iris, won't you? I wish you'd--marry +her--you'd be good to her--and she would soon--be fond--of you----" + +Somehow Anstice could bear no more. With a hasty movement he sprang up, +and in his voice was a decision against which Cheniston in his weakness +could not hope to prevail. + +"See here, Cheniston, you've just got to lie still and keep quiet. You +know"--his manner softened--"you're really not fit to talk. Do try to +get a little sleep--you'll feel so much stronger if you do." + +"I feel--very weak." He spoke with an evident effort, and Anstice +repented him of his vehemence. With a gentleness Iris herself could not +have surpassed he did all in his power to make Cheniston as easy as +possible; and when, presently, the latter relapsed into the stupor which +passed with him for sleep, Anstice left him, to go in search of Mrs. +Wood, who had promised to take charge of him for an hour or two. + +A few minutes later he encountered Garnett, walking moodily along the +uneven passage-way; and a new seriousness in the Australian's expressive +face gave Anstice pause. + +"What's up, eh? You look mighty solemn all of a sudden!" + +"I feel it, too." The younger man turned round and his eyes looked grim. +"Do you know what those damned Bedouins have been up to now? I believe, +and so does Hassan, that they've been poisoning the well out there"--he +pointed through the slit in the wall to the courtyard beneath--"and if +so we've not got a drop of water we can drink." + +"I don't believe it." Honestly he did not. Although he had no cause to +love the Oriental race he was loth to believe even an uncivilized foe +capable of such barbarity. + +"As sure as God made little apples, it's true." Garnett was in no wise +offended by Anstice's uncompromising rejoinder. "Hassan and I both +thought we saw a fellow sneaking in the courtyard last night--just +before dawn--when it was too mighty dark to see much; but as he sheered +off we didn't give the alarm. But it seems Hassan is pretty well +acquainted with their charming tricks, and he was suspicious from the +first." + +"But was this beggar prowling round by the well?" + +"We couldn't see much, but this morning Hassan investigated and found +footmarks on the sand leading directly to and from the well; and he is +convinced that is what the brute was doing." + +"How much water have we left?" + +"Well, that's the very devil of it," said Garnett ruefully "It seems we +had a fair quantity--you know it all has to be brought from that same +old well--but that silly little Rosa thought this morning that she'd +like a bath, so without asking permission she tipped it all into a kind +of tin tub there was on the premises and performed her ablutions +therein." + +"Well, I confess I don't blame her," said Anstice rather dryly. "I feel +as if I'd give a fiver for a bath myself--this damned sand makes one so +infernally gritty." + +"Just so--and the tin basin we wash in--in turns--isn't exactly +luxurious!" Garnett's eyes twinkled. "All the same, things look pretty +serious on the water question. We must have water--unfortunately the +desert thirst is no fancy picture--I'm like a lime-kiln myself at this +moment--but if the well is poisoned, and Hassan seems convinced it is, +we can't drink the water, can we?" + +"Certainly not." Anstice hoped his voice did not betray his dismay at +this disclosure. "Where's the nearest well--outside of here?" + +"Over in the village--or rather, there's one outside the village which +would be less public." Garnett laughed a little. "But I don't quite see +how we're going to fetch water from it. You know the beggars are keeping +a pretty smart lookout--and if they caught sight of one of us sallying +forth we'd be potted as sure as a gun. And every available man is wanted +here." + +"I suppose"--Anstice had been thinking--"I suppose it would be quite +impossible to get out by the rocky side? I mean could one possibly climb +down? The Bedouins don't seem to guard that side, and one would be in +the desert, well away from their band." + +"Yes--but I doubt if it would be feasible. Unless--what about a rope? I +saw a great coil of rope in one of the dungeons downstairs this +morning." A new alertness leaped into his bright eyes. "I say, let's go +and reconnoitre, shall we? It would be great to outwit the beasts after +all!" + +"Right! Where shall we go and scout?" + +"Place opposite--the only one with a decent-sized hole in the wall--have +to find a place one could squeeze through, I suppose--and I'm such an +infernally broad chap, too!" + +Anstice laughed. + +"Well, I'm pretty long," he said, still smiling. "Lead on, will you--oh, +this is the place, is it?" + +They had entered a small circular chamber which had evidently been used +for the purpose of scanning the desert far below in search of possible +foes; for the aperture in the wall which corresponded to a modern window +was much larger than any of the other slits in the building; and Anstice +and the Australian were able, by a little man[oe]uvring, to lean out +side by side and view the prospect beneath. + +"Pretty fair drop, eh?" From his tone Garnett was in no wise daunted by +the sight. + +"Yes--want a steady head. But it could be done," said Anstice +judicially. "A long rope--a precious long one, too--fastened to +something up here, and one could clamber down all right. And once down +it should be easy to skirt round to the well you mentioned. That's +settled, then, and since you're disabled"--he glanced at the other's +bandaged arm--"this is going to be my job." + +"Oh, I say, that's not fair!" The other's tone of indignation amused +Anstice even at that critical moment. "It was my suggestion, wasn't it? +Oh, I believe you did say something about it too ... but I think I ought +to be the one to go." + +"But your arm----" + +"Oh, damn my arm!" Garnett spoke vehemently. "It won't hurt it a +scrap--and honestly, I'd simply _love_ the job!" + +"I know you would--but really you'll have to let me do it." Anstice +spoke firmly, though he was sorry for the other man's disappointment. +"You see that arm of yours is badly hurt, though you won't own up to it; +and it might easily go back on you when you started using it. And if you +got stuck down there, we'd have no water, and be a man short here as +well." + +For another minute the Australian held out, arguing the point with a +kind of fiery eloquence which showed how keenly he desired to undertake +the adventure; but in the end he gave way, though he was too +unsophisticated entirely to hide his chagrin. + +"Then that's settled." Anstice dared not betray his sympathy any +further. "Now it remains to settle the details; and by the way, wouldn't +it be wise to keep it as quiet as possible? We don't want to alarm the +women." + +"Quite so." Garnett squared his shoulders and plunged pluckily into the +discussion. "I should suggest you go fairly early, as soon as the moon's +up--so that with luck you'd be back before the enemy start prowling +round. The well is a mile away, in a westerly direction." He pointed +as he spoke. "And there is not much cover when once you get fairly +out ... though I don't think there is a very great risk of the brutes +spotting you." + +"How long should it take me to get there and back?" + +"Well, walking over sand is not like walking on macadam," said Garnett +practically, "and I don't suppose you could do the job under an hour or +two. Besides, you may have to dodge the brutes now and then," he added +regretfully; and again Anstice could not refrain from smiling. + +"Well, that's settled, then. The moon rises about seven, doesn't it? And +if I get off soon after that----" + +"That would do tophole. And we can easily spin a yarn to the rest," said +Garnett more cheerfully. "In the meantime let's go and get something to +eat. I'm famished." + +The suggestion meeting with Anstice's approval they adjourned in search +of food; and found Iris coming to look for them with tidings of a meal. +When they had taken their seats at the improvised table, Iris quietly +withdrew; and Anstice guessed she had returned to her place by the side +of her husband--a place she had relinquished for an hour only during the +whole of the strenuous day. + +When, a little later, he went to see Cheniston again, he was dismayed to +find an ominous change in his patient. + +Bruce had indeed the air of a man at the point of death; and as he +looked at the wasted features, the sunken eyes, the grey shadows which +lay over the whole face, transforming it into a mere mask, Anstice told +himself bitterly that all his care had been in vain; that before morning +broke there would be one soul the less in their pitiful little company. + +He bent over the bed and spoke gently; but Cheniston was too ill to pay +any heed; and with a sigh Anstice stood upright and turned to Iris +rather helplessly. + +"Mrs. Cheniston"--he forced himself to speak truthfully--"I am afraid +your husband is no better. In fact"--he hesitated, hardly knowing how to +put his fears into words--"I think--perhaps--you must be prepared for +the worst." + +"You mean he will die?" She spoke steadily, though her eyes looked +suddenly afraid. "Dr. Anstice, is there no hope? Can _you_ do nothing +more for him?" + +"There is so little to be done," he said. "Believe me, I have tried +every means in my power, but you know my resources here are so limited, +and in those surroundings--if I had been here a week earlier, I might +have done something; but as things are----" + +"Oh, I know--I know you have done all you could!" She feared her words +had sounded ungracious. "Only--Bruce is so young--he has never been ill +before----" + +"Ah, yes, but everything has been against him--the climate for one +thing--and of course the forced removal was about the last thing he +should have had to endure." Anstice longed to comfort her as she stood +before him, looking oddly young and wistful in her distress, but honesty +forbade him to utter words of hope, knowing as he did what might well +take place during the coming night. + +"You think he will die--to-night?" Her eyes, tearless as they were, +demanded the truth; and after a secondary hesitation Anstice replied +candidly: + +"I am very much afraid he may." He turned aside when he had spoken, that +he might not see her face; and for a long moment there was a silence +between them which Anstice, for one, could not have broken. + +Then Iris sighed very faintly. + +"If that is so, you--you won't leave us, will you? I think--I could bear +it better if you were here." + +Anstice's vehement promise to stay with her was suddenly cut short as he +remembered the venture which was planned for the early hours of the +coming night; and Iris' quick wits showed her that some project was +afoot which would prevent him comforting her by his constant presence. +Yet so sore was her need of him, so ardently did she desire the solace +which he alone could bring her, that she was moved to a wistful entreaty +that was strangely unlike herself. + +"Dr. Anstice, you--you will stay? If--if anything happens to Bruce, I +shall be so--so lonely----" + +Never had Anstice so rebelled against the fate which had given her to +another man as in this moment when she stood before him, her face pale +with dread, her wide eyes filled with something not unlike absolute +terror as she faced the coming shadow which was to engulf her life. He +would have given the world to have the right to take her in his arms, to +kiss the colour back to those white cheeks, the security to the +quivering mouth. This was the first favour she had ever asked at his +hands, the first time she had thrown herself, as it were, on his mercy; +and he must refuse her even the meagre boon she asked of him. + +But Anstice was only mortal; and he could not refuse without giving her +the true reason of his refusal, although he and Garnett had agreed that +the undertaking of the night should be kept a secret lest the rest of +the little party be rendered nervous and uncomfortable by his absence. +The feelings of the other women were nothing to him, compared with those +of the girl he still loved with all the strength of his soul and heart; +and he could not have borne to let her think him callous, regardless of +her fears, content to leave her to pass through what must be one of the +darkest hours of her life alone. + +Very gently he told her of the discovery Garnett and Hassan had made; +with the subsequent unhappy certainty of a water famine; and Iris had +been in Egypt long enough to know that in this desert waste of sun and +sand the lack of water and its attendant evil, thirst, were the most +fruitful sources of tragedy in the Egyptian land. + +"You mean there is no water left?" She spoke very quietly, and he +answered her in the same tone. + +"No--at least barely a bottleful. The rest was used for making coffee +for us all just now. And this remaining drop must be reserved for your +husband, in case he calls for it. Besides, there is to-morrow----" He +stopped short, with a tragic foreboding that there would be no morrow on +earth for the man who lay dying beneath their eyes. + +"Yes. As you say, there is to-morrow. And"--her voice was low--"I +suppose there is no hope of rescue before to-morrow night at earliest?" + +"I am afraid not before the following dawn." Somehow he could not lie to +Iris. "And since we must have water it is plain one of us must go and +get it." + +"Go? Outside the Fort?" Her face blanched still further. "But it--would +be madness to venture out--you would be seen--and shot--at once...." + +"Ah, but you haven't heard the plan Garnett and I have evolved!" He +spoke more lightly, though his voice was still low. "Listen, and tell me +if you approve of our strategy!" + +He rapidly outlined their plan of campaign, making as light of the +perils of the undertaking as possible; and Iris listened breathlessly, +her eyes on his face the while. + +When he had finished she spoke very quietly. + +"Dr. Anstice, I think it is a terribly reckless thing to attempt, and if +I thought only of myself--or of you--I should beg you not to go. But as +you say, there are the others--the child for one--and if help should be +delayed the lack of water would be--serious." + +"So you approve the plan?" He felt unreasonably glad that she did not +altogether condemn the idea, since, as go he must, he would certainly go +more happily with her approval. + +"I shall be terribly anxious all the while," she said simply, "but you +are a brave man. Dr. Anstice, and I do not believe God will let you +suffer for your courage." + +"Then I am to go? You will not mind being left alone?" + +"No. I think--perhaps--I shall be a little--afraid--if Bruce dies while +you are gone"--a shiver passed through her as she spoke the fatal +words--"but I will try to be brave." + +"Mrs. Wood will come and sit here with you," said Anstice quickly; but +Iris shook her head. + +"No, she is asleep just now, and I won't awaken her. You know she has +been so anxious about poor little Molly to-day." The child had indeed +been feverish and ailing of late. "But after all, we may be alarming +ourselves unnecessarily, mayn't we? You--you're not _certain_ that Bruce +will die?" + +And because he could not bear to see the terror in her face, hear the +quiver of dread in her voice, Anstice lied at last. + +"No--I may be wrong after all," he said. "In any case I am not going +yet. I will stay here till the last possible moment. Look--his eyes are +open--come and sit here, where he can see you without moving his head." + +And as she obeyed without a word Anstice took up his own position +opposite to her where he could watch every change in the grey face of +the man who had once been his enemy, but was now only a fellow-creature +in the grip of the mightiest enemy of all. + + * * * * * + +It was nearly ten o'clock before Anstice started on his perilous +adventure. + +Shortly before the time fixed for his departure little Molly Wood had +been taken alarmingly ill, with severe pains in her head and a high +temperature, and Anstice had spent an anxious hour beside her improvised +bed before he had the satisfaction of seeing her sink into a quiet sleep +beneath the remedies he employed, and when, leaving the distracted +mother to watch her slumbers, he had crept into Cheniston's room, he had +found Bruce still desperately ill, and Iris paler and yet more wan +beneath the stress of the position in which she found herself. + +It was only the imperative need of water which nerved Anstice to leave +her alone, but he knew perfectly well that it would be impossible to +procure any water in daylight, and though Mr. Wood would certainly have +volunteered to make the attempt in his place, had he known the +circumstances, Anstice had discovered, by a casual word let drop by his +wife, that the clergyman suffered from a long-standing weakness of the +heart which would have prevented him carrying through the project +successfully. + +Plainly he must be the one to go, for Hassan, whom they had been forced, +through stress of circumstance, to take into their confidence, had +absolutely refused to brave the perils of the journey and the dangling +rope, and since he must be back at his post as soon after midnight as +possible, Anstice steeled his heart and bade Iris good-bye with a +stoical calm which did not deceive her in the least. + +"Keep up your courage, Mrs. Cheniston." He laid his hand gently on her +arm. "I'll be back in an hour or so--and in the meantime, if there +should be any change, you will do exactly as I have told you." He had +already given her full directions. "Remember, no one but Mr. Garnett and +Hassan knows of my absence, so don't be surprised if I'm supposed to be +asleep somewhere." + +"No. But"--she put her own right hand over his as he gently clasped her +arm--"you're sure there is no one but you to go? Is Mr. Wood too old?" + +"No--but his heart is affected, and the climb would be dangerous. And +Hassan, though he's behaved like a brick up to now, funks the climb." +His tone was good-naturedly contemptuous. "As for Garnett, he's longing +to go--can't quite forgive me for shoving him out--but his arm won't +stand it; so plainly I am the one to go." + +"Then go--and God be with you," she said very gently, and in her eyes +Anstice saw once again the look of mingled strength and tenderness whose +possibility he had divined long ago on the occasion of their first +meeting on that sunlit morning on the steps of Cherry Orchard. + + * * * * * + +And with the words ringing in his ears he set forth upon his quest. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +It was a perfect moonlight night, and as he swung himself out over the +rocky precipice, which was surely more formidable at close quarters than +it had appeared from above, Anstice was conscious of a sudden wild +exhilaration which sent the blood coursing like quicksilver through his +veins. + +He knew very well that he was embarking upon a perilous adventure which +might easily end in disaster, for he had no delusions on the subject of +his probable fate did he fall into the hands of the vengeful Bedouins. +But somehow, as he swung between earth and heaven, the rope slipping +with almost uncomfortable rapidity through his fingers, he felt no fear, +only a joyous thrill which strongly resembled the boyish glee with +which, in his school-days, he had taken part in many midnight adventures +strictly hidden from the notice of the authorities. + +His former proficiency in gymnastics and his natural love of climbing +stood him in good stead. He had never been addicted to nerves, had never +known what it was to experience any vertigo or attacks of giddiness when +exploring some dizzy height or negotiating some mountain ledge, and he +swung down the rope which was his only support as coolly as though he +were practising in a gymnasium, with no risk, did he fall, of being +dashed to death against the unfriendly rocks below. + +In an incredibly short space of time he reached the ground, and after +giving three gentle tugs upon the rope--the preconceived signal that all +was well with him--he looked cautiously round him to take his bearings +before proceeding on his journey. + +He stood now in a kind of rocky valley, ringed round with caves--whether +tombs or not he could not pretend to judge--but beyond the valley lay +the desert over which he must pass, and he lost no time in clambering +over the rooks and setting foot on the firm brown sand without. + +By the aid of his small compass he located the direction in which the +well lay, and then, restoring it to his pocket and making certain that +the goat-skin water-bottle was firmly slung over his shoulder, he set +off at a brisk pace which should, if possible, shorten the time of his +absence from the Fort by a few precious moments at least. + +He had never before been alone in the desert at night, and the +strangeness of it gripped him by the throat as he strode steadily +onwards. He could not believe, at first, that he was really alone. It +seemed incredible that in all that huge expanse of sand he should be the +only moving, living being, yet, though he knew that there _were_ living +creatures in the desert--jackals and other prowling things, and a whole +host of bats and tiny insects--they gave no sign of their presence, and +it seemed to him that he was the only live thing in a dead world.... + +Yet the air, as it blew gently round him, was soft and sweet. A group of +palm trees rustled deliciously as he passed by; and above his head the +big silver stars seemed to look down on him with a friendly, benignant +gaze as though they knew and approved the errand which brought him out +there, alone in the moonlit desert. + +When once he had conquered the instinctive feeling of something like +nervousness which made him look now and again half fearfully over his +shoulder as he walked, he began to enjoy this uncommon pilgrimage. + +His spirits rose, he felt a wild inclination to sing and shout with +glee--an inclination hastily checked by the remembrance that after all +the Bedouin village was not far away, though hidden for the moment by +the merciful palm trees--and he told himself exultantly that the +devilish revenge of the Bedouins who had poisoned the well in the +courtyard of the Fort was only an empty menace after all. + +Only when he thought of Bruce Cheniston, dying in that barely-furnished +room, far away from any of the luxuries and ease-bringing contrivances +with which civilization smooths the path of her children to the grave, +did his leaping exultation die down in his heart, and he walked more +soberly as he told himself that it was probable he would not see Bruce +Cheniston alive again. + +It was in the moment in which he realized this fact that another thought +struck Anstice for the first time, and the sheer blinding radiance of +that thought made him catch his breath and stand still in the desert, +absolutely oblivious to any risks which he might run from Bedouins or +other prowling marauders were he to be observed. + +He had suddenly realized that were Cheniston to die Iris would once more +be free--free to marry another man did she so desire; and the very idea +of that freedom set his heart knocking against his ribs in a positive +fury of wild and tumultuous feeling. + +Never--he was thankful to remember it now--never had the thought so much +as crossed his mind as he ministered to Cheniston, doing all in his +power to defeat the grim foe who held the young man so firmly in his +clutches. He had spared no pains, had given himself up body and soul to +the task of saving Bruce Cheniston's life, were it possible for that +life to be saved, and he was glad to know, looking back, that he had +never for one second contemplated the possibility of any benefit +accruing to himself through the other man's death. Even should he find, +on his return, that Cheniston had indeed slipped into another world +during his absence, he could always assure himself that he had not +sullied the last strenuous hours in which he had fought for his +patient's life with all his might by so much as one underhand or +dishonourable thought. + +And then, by a natural corollary, his thoughts reverted to Hilda Ryder; +and for the first time since her death he began to feel that now, after +all these years, he might surely be considered to have atoned for his +too hasty carrying-out of the promise he had made her in that +rose-coloured dawn of a bygone Indian morning. + +Never had man regretted an impulsive deed more than he had regretted the +thing which had been done that day. The years which had elapsed since +then had been indeed years of penance--a penance more cruel and far more +hard to bear than any penalty inflicted by man could possibly have been. + +He had been a prisoner indeed, bound fast in the captivity of his own +remorse; but now it seemed to him as though the long black night of his +imprisonment were breaking, as though a light, as yet very far off and +faint, showed upon some distant horizon with a promise of another and +more radiant day which should surely dawn ere long. + +Whence came this blessed lightening of his gloom? He could not say. Was +it perhaps due to the fact that even now he was risking his life in the +service of another woman--it is to be feared he forgot all but Iris in +this strangely exalted moment--that to him her life had been confided by +the father who adored her, and that to him and to him alone could she +look for comfort and for help in the bitter hour which he foresaw was +even now at hand for the girl who loved Bruce Cheniston--and must see +him die.... + + * * * * * + +And as his thoughts played, lightning-wise, round the figure of the +beloved woman, his footsteps led him on, more and more blithely as his +spirit rose, ph[oe]nix-like, above the ashes of his burnt-out tragedy, +and in an incredibly short space of time he approached the well whence +he might draw the precious water for lack of which the little garrison +he had left must perish and die. + +It was a peaceful spot, this well. Just such a place as that to which +Rachel and the daughters of Jacob must, long ago, have come to fill +their pitchers--a quiet, palm-guarded spot where doubtless, in days gone +by, the village women had congregated in search of water and of +news--the chattered gossip of the East, punctuated by the tinkling of +native bangles as the beautifully-moulded arms raised the pitchers to +the finely-carried heads. + +The well was deserted now, but the water was as clear and pure as ever, +and with a sigh of relief Anstice set about filling his goat-skin +water-bottle, and then, anxious to lose no time, he retraced his steps +over the moonlit desert without delay. + +He marched blithely on and on, ever companioned by that new and thrice +welcome sense of freedom which had come to him, as though at each step +he took the fetters with which a great regret had for so long shackled +his soul grew looser and less binding, until it seemed that they might +presently fall off altogether, and allow him once more to face the world +as a free man, and not the captive of a cruel and unjust fate. + + * * * * * + +He had reached the outskirts of the village before the necessity for +caution reasserted itself; but just as he was passing, as softly as +possible, the little group of palm trees which he had noted earlier, he +caught a glimpse of a man prowling, as it seemed, round the trunks of +those same trees; and in another second he knew that by an unlucky +chance the man was between him and the only place in which he might have +taken cover. + +There was no time to be lost. At any moment the Bedouin might look up +and see him--an unfortunately conspicuous figure in the moonlight; and +although the Fort was not more than a quarter of a mile away, should it +come to a race the odds might well be in favour of the desert-bred man. + +True, he was armed--for in spite of his protests Garnett had insisted on +him carrying one of the few revolvers owned by the little defending +force; but he did not wish to fire, save in the last extremity, since a +shot would certainly rouse the village and cut off his one chance of +regaining the shelter of the Fort. + +There was just a possibility that the man might not see him, so intent +was he at the moment in his scrutiny of the village; and in a second +Anstice had taken his resolve--a desperate resolve enough, but the only +one he could formulate at the moment. + +He began, instantly, to run, and so noiseless was his progress that no +sound reached the ears of the prowling Bedouin; and had the native's +other senses been less keen, it is possible Anstice would have escaped +notice altogether. + +Unfortunately the man turned himself about, and saw the flying figure, +which stood out only too plainly in that empty expanse of moonlit sand; +and after a second's hesitation, as though he could barely believe the +evidence of his eyes, the native left his hiding-place and began to run +with quick, loping gait after the fugitive, calling out something in a +high, piercing voice as he ran. + +In his college days Anstice had been somewhat of an athlete; and +although he had long since relinquished any sporting ambitions which he +might once have cherished, he had reason to bless his own turn of speed, +which, being a natural and not an acquired gift, did not fail him now. + +But never in his life had he run as he was running to-night. Apart from +any consideration of his own personal safety he was running for the +safety of others--of one in particular; for he knew only too well how +pitifully small was the force which held the beleaguered Fort; and +though in itself his life might be of little value, as a bulwark between +Iris Cheniston and her enemies it had a value all its own; and must not +be relinquished without a fierce and determined struggle. + +On and on he ran, the blood drumming in his ears, the goat-skin pounding +maddeningly about his shoulders. But even could he have brought himself +to fling away the precious water for which he had cheerfully risked his +life, he could not spare time to unfasten the skin slung across his +back; and he raced swiftly onward, cursing the loose sand which now and +again threatened to trip him up, not daring to look back until he had +lessened the distance to the Fort by a considerable amount. + +Then, casting a sharp glance over his shoulder, he saw that the Bedouin +was gaining upon him, his long, tireless stride, which resembled that of +a greyhound, swallowing the ground with little apparent effort; and +Anstice's quick mind realized that, fine runner as he knew himself to +be, he was outclassed by this native athlete. + +"All right, Dorando," he muttered grimly, half-aloud, as he checked +himself for a second in his race. "I can't outrun you, but I'm damned if +I don't put a bullet through you all the same." + +And pulling out his revolver he whisked about, so quickly that the other +had no time to realize his intention; and taking definite aim at the +man's thigh he fired once, twice--with satisfactory results, inasmuch +as the other uttered a sharp cry, spun round once or twice and fell in a +heap on the sand, incapable of further movement. + +For a second Anstice paused, innate humanity forbidding him to leave the +man alone in his agony; but the thought of Iris drove away such +weakness, and realizing that the noise of the shots must incite his foes +to immediate investigation, he hastily restored his revolver to its +place and ran, faster than ever, in the direction of the Fort. + +Suddenly the air behind him was rent with shrill clamour, and he knew +the village was aroused at last; but he cared little now, for he was +close to his desired haven; and a last spurt over the rocks at the +entrance to the valley landed him, spent and breathless, at the foot of +the Fort, beneath the window from which dangled the precious rope which +should carry him to safety. + +Regardless now of precaution, he lifted such voice as remained to him in +a would-be lusty hail; and as an answering shout came from above he +wasted no further time, but seized the rope and began--painfully now, +for he was exhausted--to haul himself slowly up, cheered on by Garnett's +hearty congratulations from above. + + * * * * * + +"By Jove, that was a close call!" Once safely inside the building, the +dangling rope pulled through the window after him, Anstice collapsed on +the rough stone floor and mopped his brow feebly. + +"I should say so!" The resourceful Australian had already produced a +tiny flask of brandy. "Here, take a pull at this, and you'll feel better +in a second. And when you've recovered, if you'll explain the meaning of +the shooting-match, I'll be thankful to you." + +Between his gasps Anstice described the chase and its subsequent ending; +and Garnett's eyes shone with an unholy lust for battle as he listened. + +"Good on you!" He clapped the other man on the shoulder with a +heartiness which was almost painful. "Well, we'll have the hornet's nest +about our ears in no time now; but at least we've got you back safe and +sound, and with a bit of luck we'll hold out grandly till the +reinforcements come!" + +"How is Cheniston?" Anstice rose as he spoke and slipped the goat-skin +from off his shoulders. "Anything happened since I've been away?" + +"Not that I know of--but I believe he was pretty bad a while ago." +Garnett's face clouded. "Jolly rough luck on his wife, isn't it? She's +so young, and so plucky, and I see you expect the poor chap to peg out." + +"I think I'll go and see him," said Anstice slowly, the exhilaration +dying from his manner; and as Garnett pulled aside the rough curtain +which covered the doorway he stepped on to the uneven stone floor +without. + +And then he came to a pause; for Iris was coming towards him; and her +face wore a curiously stricken look which made his heart miss a beat. + +"Mrs. Cheniston--you want me? Is your husband worse?" + +For a moment she did not reply. Then: + +"He is dead, Dr. Anstice," she said quietly. "He died ten minutes +ago--just after I heard those two shots----" + +"Dead?" Although he had half expected the news, Anstice found it hard to +believe. "Mrs. Cheniston, are you _sure_? May I come and see? You +might--possibly--be mistaken." + +"I am not mistaken," she said, and for a second a pitiful little smile +touched her white lips. "Bruce is dead--but come and see for yourself. +I ... I am glad you are safely back, Dr. Anstice." + +"Thank you," he said quietly; and then without more ado they moved side +by side towards the room in which Bruce Cheniston had yielded up his +life. + +Mrs. Wood rose from her seat as they entered, and glided softly away, +beckoning to her husband, who stood by the window, to join her; and when +they were alone Anstice and the girl so lately widowed moved forward +until they stood beside the bed on which Bruce Cheniston lay in all the +white majesty of Death. + +A very brief examination satisfied Anstice that Iris had not been +mistaken. Cheniston was dead; and as he stood looking down on the quiet +face, which, by virtue of Death's magic alchemy, had regained in the +last hour something of its former youth, Anstice knew a sincere and +unfeigned pity for the young life so ruthlessly cut short by a cruel +disease. + +"Yes, Mrs. Cheniston." He covered the dead white face gently. "I am +sorry to say you are right. Were you with him when he died?" + +"Yes. We were alone," she said, and again that oddly stricken look made +his heart yearn pitifully over her. + +"He was conscious before the end?" + +"I--I think so--at least, partly." Her tone was indefinable, desolation +and a strange, half-hurt wonder sounding in its low note. "He did not +speak much--only a few words--at the end I don't think he knew me...." + +"I am sorry you were left alone," he said, and he ventured to lay his +hand for a second gently on her arm. "I wish I could have been back +earlier. I am afraid it has been a shock to you." + +"Death is always a shock," she said quietly, and again a wintry little +smile touched her lips. "But--don't think me unkind, Dr. Anstice--I am +glad I was alone with him--at the end." + +In spite of himself a great amazement shook him at her words. Although +her meaning was a mystery to him, there was no doubt she had spoken in +perfect sincerity; and in the midst of his inward turmoil Anstice found +time to wonder exactly what she meant by this curious speech. Somehow he +could not help connecting the odd look which her face still held with +the strange words she had used; and he wondered what had been the manner +of Cheniston's passing. + +"Mrs. Cheniston"--Iris started as his voice fell on her ears--"you will +come away--now? There is nothing for you to do here. And you should try +to sleep----" + +"Sleep?" She glanced up at him with an indescribably dreary look in her +eyes. "I could not sleep, Dr. Anstice. If you will let me stay with +you"--her voice shook a little--"I should be glad. I--I don't want to be +alone--just yet." + +"Of course you don't." He spoke promptly. "And you shall certainly stay +with me, if you will. But--will it trouble you to make me a cup of +coffee, Mrs. Cheniston? I'm awfully sorry to bother you, but I've had +nothing to eat for some time----" + +At another moment she might have seen through his subterfuge; but now, +her wits dulled, her mind clouded by the scene through which she had +lately passed, she accepted his petition as genuine. + +"Of course I will get you some coffee--at once." She moved towards the +door as she spoke. "I--I am so sorry I did not think of it before." + +When she had gone he went quickly in search of Garnett, and explained +what service he required of the stalwart Australian. + +"Of course--we'll carry him, bed and all, into another room," said +Garnett readily. "That window must be guarded, and we can't ask the poor +girl to enter the room with her husband lying dead there. Let's hustle, +while she's busy--the little room 'way across there will do." + +Accordingly when Iris re-entered the room, rather shrinkingly, to +acquaint Anstice with the fact that a meal awaited him, she found an +empty space where the bed had stood; and although her eyes widened she +said nothing on the subject--an omission for which Anstice was thankful, +for the night's work had been a strain on him also; and he was in no +humour for further discussion at the moment. + + * * * * * + +He found the rest of the little garrison even more subdued than usual. +The death of one of their number had naturally cast a general gloom; and +when he had made a pretence of despatching his supper Anstice easily +persuaded Mrs. Wood to take a few hours' rest by the side of her little +girl, who was now, fortunately, well on the way to recovery from her +sudden illness. + +The incapable Rosa was also dismissed to seek what slumber was possible; +and then the four men took up their positions as before--Mr. Wood and +Garnett keeping watch from the window of the room in which Cheniston had +died, while Anstice and Hassan stationed themselves at the second +window; Iris leaning against the wall, very pale, but apparently quite +composed, on a pile of rugs which Anstice had arranged for her well out +of range of a possible stray shot. + +She had promised him to try to rest; but as the hours of the short night +wore away and the critical moment of dawn approached, he knew that +although she sat in silence with closed eyes she did not sleep; and +again he wondered, vainly, insistently, what had passed between husband +and wife before Death cut short their mutual life. + +He felt he would have given much to know what reason Iris had to be +thankful that she and her husband had been alone in the hour of his +death; and although he had no intention of pursuing the subject he could +not quite stifle his curiosity as to her meaning. + +But Sir Richard Wayne's daughter was the soul of loyalty; and although a +day was to come in which she and Anstice had few secrets from one +another, he was destined never to know that Bruce Cheniston had died +with Hilda Ryder's name upon his lips. + + * * * * * + +And so the short night passed; and with the dawn the long-expected +attack came at last. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +"Dr. Anstice"--Iris' voice was very low--"shall I disturb you if I come +and sit beside you for a little while? I--I feel rather--lonely--sitting +over there." + +Anstice had turned round sharply as she began to speak and his heart +yearned over her pitifully as he noted the pallor of her cheeks, the +forlorn look in her grey eyes. + +"Of course you won't disturb me." He dared not speak so emphatically as +he wished. "I shall be only too glad if you will come and sit here"--he +arranged the pile of rugs by him as he spoke--"only, if danger arises, +you will keep out of harm's way, won't you?" + +"Yes." She said no more for a moment; but her assent satisfied him, and +he turned back to the window with a sudden feeling of joy at her +proximity which would not be repressed. + +Presently he heard her low voice once more. + +"Dr. Anstice, when you told me your story--long ago--why didn't you tell +me the name of the man to whom that poor girl was engaged? Didn't you +want me to know she was to have married--Bruce?" Her voice sank on the +last word. + +For an instant Anstice kept silence, uncertain how to answer her. Then, +seeing she was waiting for his reply, he made an effort and spoke. + +"Mrs. Cheniston, to be honest, I don't know why I did not tell you. +But"--he seized the opportunity for a question on his own account--"will +you tell me how you know, now? Did--did your husband tell you?" + +"No." Her eyes met his frankly and he knew she was speaking the truth. +"I learned the fact for certain by accident three days ago, when Bruce +was delirious. Of course I had wondered--sometimes"--said Iris +honestly--"but I never liked to ask. And after all it made no +difference." + +"No." He sighed. "It made no difference. But I am glad you know--now." + +Again a silence fell between them; and then a sudden impulse drove +Anstice into speech. + +"Mrs. Cheniston," he said, very quietly, "may I tell you something +else--something I have long wanted you to know?" + +Startled, she assented; and he continued slowly. + +"You remember that night--the night before your wedding day"--he saw her +wince, and went on more quickly--"the night, I mean, when Cherry +Carstairs set herself on fire and you came for me to my house----" + +"Yes." Her eyes were sad. "I remember. I don't think I shall ever be +able to forget that night." + +"Ah, don't say that!" His voice was eager. "Mrs. Cheniston, don't, +please, believe I gave in without a struggle. I didn't. God knows I +fought the horrible thing--for your sake, because you had been good +enough, kind enough--to ask me to give up trying that way out. I did +try. Oh, I know you can hardly believe me--you who saw me in the very +hour of my failure--but it's true. Although I gave in at the last, +beaten by the twin enemies of bodily pain and mental suffering----" + +"You were--in pain--that day?" + +"Yes. I had endured torture--oh, I don't want to excuse myself, but +please understand I was really ill, really suffering, and morphia, as +you know, does bring a blessed relief. And I was wretched, too--it +seemed to me that life was over for me that day----" + +He stopped short, biting his lips at his self-betrayal; but Iris' grey +eyes did not turn away from his face. + +"And so, thinking I could endure no more agony of body and mind, I had +recourse to the one relief I knew; but before God, if I had known that +you would be a witness to my failure----" + +"Dr. Anstice"--the gentleness in her voice fell like balm upon his sore +spirit--"please don't say any more. We are only human, you and I; and +one failure does not minimize a long-continued success." + +"You mean----" + +"I mean that I know--I can't tell you how, but I _do_ know it--you have +never again tried that way out of your troubles. I think," said Iris, +"you have found the _real_ way out--at last." + +Her words perplexed, even while they relieved him; and he sought the +meaning of them. + +"The _real_ way, Mrs. Cheniston? I wonder what you mean by that?" + +"I mean," she said very softly, "you must have found the way out of your +own troubles by the very act of pointing out the way to others. You have +brought Chloe Carstairs back to life--oh, I know it was through you that +the mystery was cleared up at last--and that alone must make you feel +that whatever mistake you may once have made you have atoned for it a +hundredfold. And"--for an instant Iris' voice shook--"what are you doing +now but atoning for that mistake--if further atonement were necessary?" + +"You mean----" + +"I mean that you are here, waiting for the Bedouins to attack us at any +moment, waiting to fight for us women, ready, if need be, to die on our +behalf." The words fell very softly on the quiet air. "And though I pray +that God will send us help so that no life may be sacrificed I +know"--Iris' eyes shone, and her voice rang suddenly like a clarion +call--"I know that I--that we are safer with you than with any other man +in the world...." + +Carried away by her trust in him Anstice turned to her impulsively. + +"Mrs. Cheniston, I can't thank you enough for those words. God knows I +would willingly, gladly die to shield you from any harm; and if help +should not come in time, and I should lose my life, well, please believe +two things--firstly, that since that dreadful night I have +never--failed--in that way again; and secondly, that to die in your +service"--so much he might surely say in this poignant hour--"would be a +death which any man might envy me." + +She did not reply in words; but her eyes answered for her and for a +moment there was silence between them. Then, as though half afraid he +might have angered her by his last impetuous speech, Anstice spoke +abruptly in another tone. + +"Odd, isn't it, how an action carried through in a moment may have such +tremendous consequences? I mean if I had stayed my hand long ago in that +Indian hut you and I would not be here now, faced with this +rather--difficult--situation. It makes one realize that one should never +act too hastily--without looking all round the subject, so to speak." + +"Yes. And yet--sometimes--if one stopped to think of the consequences +one would be afraid to act, and let the vital moment slip," she said +rather dreamily. "Of course there is always the afterwards----" + +"Do you know of what that reminds me?" He spoke quickly. "Once, long ago +when I was a student, I picked up a book of old plays at a bookstall in +the Charing Cross Road. And in one of the plays I came across this +sentence: 'The deed itself may be the work of a moment; but there is +always the long, long _afterwards_ with which to reckon.'" + +His voice died away; but she said nothing, though her eyes betokened her +interest; and presently he resumed. + +"Well, that sentence has haunted me pretty frequently of late--it has +run through the years like the saying of some avenging angel. I have +known what the reckoning with the _afterwards_ may be--sometimes, +indeed, I have feared that reckoning will never be paid." + +"Dr. Anstice," she said quietly, "you are wrong. The reckoning _is_ +paid; the atonement _is_ made; and I am quite sure that the future--for +you--will be rid for ever of the haunting shadow of the past. And"--her +cheeks blanched suddenly as a clamour arose in the courtyard outside--"I +think the future is beginning--with trouble and danger--now." + +"I believe you are right." Turning impetuously to the window, which for +a moment he had neglected, he found Hassan, his eyeballs rolling +horribly in his dusky face, leaning out excitedly; and as he too craned +into the lifting darkness Anstice saw that the moment of attack was at +hand. + +Without warning save that given by their exultant shouts the Bedouins +were swarming over the wall, clambering over like great cats, dropping +with sundry thuds on to the sandy ground beneath; and in another moment +Anstice saw that they carried roughly fashioned scaling ladders, with +which they evidently intended to force an entrance, should that be +possible in the face of the defenders' fire. + +"See here, Mrs. Cheniston." Anstice spoke almost curtly. "Will you go +into the other room now? You are safer there, and out of harm's way for +the time, at least." + +"No, Dr. Anstice." She spoke determinedly. "I am going to stay here. You +have spare revolvers, haven't you? Then I can load for you and for +Hassan, at any rate, even if I can't be of other use." + +"You know how?" He was surprised. + +"Yes. My father taught me long ago. And"--for a second her voice +faltered--"I--I feel safer here. Please let me stay." + +"Very well." He could not bear to send her away. "But you must promise +to keep as far as possible out of range. We can't afford any casualties, +you know." + +"I promise," she said very quietly; and he knew she would obey his +injunctions implicitly. + +The next moment Garnett rushed into the room, his blue eyes alight with +a most warrior-like flame. + +"See what's up, Anstice? Good--I guessed you'd not be caught napping. +I'll get back now--there's going to be a gorgeous scrap in a minute. +Mrs. Cheniston, are you all right there?" + +"Quite, thanks." Her calm voice reassured him; and he dashed out of the +room without further parley, while Anstice and Hassan waited, tensely, +their revolvers in readiness, for the moment to open their defence. + +It was not yet day; and in the grey gloom it was difficult to +distinguish the nature of any object which was not close at hand; but +Anstice made out that the approaching Bedouins intended to scramble up +to the windows by use of their scaling ladders; and his face wore an +unusually grim expression as the flying moments passed. + +Ah! The first tribesman to reach the level of the window gave an +exultant yell, as though he saw his foe already within his grasp; and on +that shout of triumph his desert-born soul was sped to whatever haven +awaited it. For Anstice's revolver had spoken; and the swarthy Bedouin +fell headlong to the earth, shot, unerringly, through the heart. + +Anstice heard Iris give a faint gasp at his side; but now his blood was +up and he had no time to reassure even the one beloved woman. Something +strange, unexpected, had happened to him. Suddenly he too was primitive +man, even as these desert men were magnificently primitive. Gone was all +the veneer of civilization, the humanity which bids a man respect a +fellow-creature's life. He was no longer the educated, travelled man of +the world, who earned his living in honourable and decorous ways. He was +the cave-dweller, the man of another and more barbaric age, who defended +his stronghold because it held his woman, the woman for whom he would +fight to the very end, and count his life well spent if it were yielded +up in her service. But he did not mean to die. He meant to live--and +since that implied the death of these savages who clamoured without, +then let red death stalk between them, and decide to whom he would award +the blood-dripping sword of the victor. + +Another fierce face at the window--a pair of hawk-like eyes flashing +haughty challenge, a sinewy hand raising a revolver in deliberate +aim--and Hassan's shot rang out, so swiftly that this man too fell back, +disabled, his face disappearing from the window as one runs a film off a +reel of pictures. + +But there were others--many others--to take his place. Up and up they +came till there was a whole phalanx of enemy faces, eyes flashing, white +teeth gleaming in horrid snarls ... shot after shot rang out, but by +marvellous luck none touched the defenders, who on their side emptied +their revolvers as fast as Iris' fingers could make them ready. + +Suddenly a gigantic man half sprang over the sill and without attempting +to fire seized Anstice by the wrist in a grip of iron, whose marks +disfigured him for weeks to come. His intention was obvious--by holding +Anstice a prisoner he hoped to make opportunity for others to force an +entrance; and as Anstice had involuntarily dropped the revolver as the +steel-like fingers crushed his wrist, the fate of the little garrison +hung, for a second, in the balance. + +"Iris--shoot--quick!" Quite unconscious of the name he used Anstice +raised his voice in a desperate shout; and the girl heard and obeyed in +the same breath. + +Lifting the revolver she had just loaded she fired once, twice, with +fingers which did not even tremble; and the next moment with a loud +gurgle the Bedouin released his hold and fell back through the window, +dislodging the men who were clambering up the ladder behind him, so that +they fell together in a confused mass into the courtyard below. + +For a second there was a breathing-space; and Anstice turned to Iris +with gleaming eyes. + +"My God, you have a nerve!" His breath was coming in quick pants. "Mrs. +Cheniston, I can't thank you--I never dreamed that even you would be so +plucky." + +"It wasn't pluck--it was just--obedience," she said, and though her face +was very pale she smiled bravely up at him. "Dr. Anstice, are +there--many more to come? You have disabled a good many, haven't you?" + +"Between us, yes." He was cool again now, and picked up his revolver as +he spoke. "They seem to be hanging back a bit--and to judge by the row +Garnett's making I should say he's doing pretty well too." + +Bang! A bullet whizzed suddenly by Iris' head; and Anstice pulled her +hastily into a safer place. + +"Here they come back again!" His tone was almost boyishly gleeful. +"Well, we're ready for 'em--eh, Hassan?" + +The Arab, who was firing as steadily as though at a pigeon-shooting +match, nodded, his white teeth flashing out in a merry grin; and as the +Bedouins, taking heart, recommenced their attack, the two men, native +and Englishman, turned back to their task with renewed vigour. + +Neither Iris nor Anstice ever had a very clear recollection of the next +ten minutes. It was an inferno, a babel, a confusion of shots and yells +and angry clamour; but beyond a slight, flesh wound sustained by Hassan +neither of the defenders sustained any casualties; and had their +ammunition been as plentiful as their courage was high there would have +been no doubt as to the ultimate issue. + +Suddenly Anstice turned to Iris with a question on his lips; and her +face paled as she replied: + +"Not much, now. I think--only enough for three more rounds." She spoke +steadily. + +"I see. And then----" He broke off, handing her the empty revolver he +held. + +"And then?" She breathed the question softly; but there was no fear in +her face. + +"And then--I am not quite clear what happens then." He looked at her +more searchingly. "Mrs. Cheniston, what do you say--then? I'm ready, as +you know, to die for you, but"--he paused, then resumed in a rather +hoarse tone--"if I die what will become of you? I suppose"--he faltered, +and his lips were dry, but some inward impulse drove him on--"I suppose +you would not wish me to--save--a last cartridge...." + +"For me?" Her smile, as she faced him, was splendid. "No, Dr. Anstice, +I'm not afraid to die, if I must, at the hands of our enemies. But I +will not accept death--from _you_." + +He knew--irrevocably--what she meant. She was determined at least to +spare him a recurrence of the tragedy which had ruined so many of what +should have been the best years of his life; and although he knew he +could have faced even that risk courageously in her service, none the +less did he rejoice that he was not called upon to do this thing a +second time. + +"Then--if the worst should happen--if we are not relieved in time----" + +"We can all die--together," she said very simply; and in her face he +read something which, told him that for all her youth this girl would +know how to die. + +But further speech was suddenly cut short The Bedouins, who had been +hanging back for a moment's parley, had evidently rallied their forces +for another effort; for with a yell destined to strike terror into the +hearts of their foes they literally swarmed up the ladder until the +whole window-space was filled with a horrid nightmare of bearded, +swarthy faces, of sinewy, grasping hands, of tossing spears and +flourished fire-arms. + +Suddenly, with an exclamation of pain, Hassan dropped his revolver and +clapped his hand to his side; and Anstice felt, with a wild thrill of +dismay in all his veins, that the fight was practically over for them +now. The odds were too great--one well-directed bullet and he too would +be disabled, powerless to protect the girl for whose sake he longed so +ardently to win the day. + +"My God, Iris, we're beaten!" Even as he spoke he was firing into the +midst of the mass of packed faces at the window; and he heard her words, +spoken in a passionate whisper as one hears strange, whispered sentences +in a dream: + +"No--no!" Iris had been listening to another sound--the sound of hope, +of renewed life--and now, in the moment of his discouragement, she +whispered the glorious truth. "Listen--they're here--the men have come +in time--oh, don't you hear them shouting to us to hold on--for a +minute----" + +The next moment a wild cry from Hassan rent the air; and as the crowd of +fierce faces seemed, suddenly, to recede as a wave washes backwards on +the shore, Anstice knew, with a great uplifting of his spirit, that help +had indeed come--miraculously--in time to save the day.... + + * * * * * + +Answering shouts from the desert, the drumming of horses' hoofs, the +clamour of voices upraised in cries of encouragement--these were the +sounds which Anstice, almost unbelieving, heard at last; and as the +desert men began to retreat, tumbling over themselves and each other in +their haste to flee before this new enemy was upon them, Anstice turned +to Iris with a laugh of purest happiness. + +"They have come--you're safe now, thank God!" + +"We're all safe, thanks to you," she answered him with shining eyes; and +as he threw his empty revolver aside she held out both her hands to him +and he clasped them joyfully. + +"They have come--and so soon! I never dared to hope they would be here +before to-night at earliest!" + +"Nor I--but they are here!" He released her hands and turned to greet +the rest of the little garrison, who, having heard the clamour, had +realized they were saved, and came pouring in to hear the story of the +night's encounter. + + * * * * * + +At the same moment a fierce hubbub arose in the courtyard as the +Bedouins realized that they were verily in a trap. Some of them, +gathering their robes about them in undignified haste, managed to +scramble over the wall in the confusion and so make good their escape, +for the time at least; but the majority were neatly cornered; and though +they fought magnificently, as was their wont, they realized only too +soon that they were outnumbered; and in a comparatively short space of +time the fight was over. + + * * * * * + +Just as the rising sun flooded the desert with superb pink brilliance +the whole party, rescuers and besieged, met in the courtyard. + +Both Anstice and Garnett had been in the thick of the last affray; and +the soldier who was apparently in command of the expedition took +advantage of the breathing-space to congratulate the defenders on the +splendid defiance they had offered to their foes. + +"We heard the row quite a long way off," he said, "and hurried for all +we were worth, thinking we'd be too late if we didn't hustle. But from +the vigour of your defence it seems to me we might have taken it easy." + +"Good job for us you didn't," returned Anstice rather grimly. "We'd got +down to our last round--another five minutes and we'd have been wiped +out." + +"Whew!" The other man whistled. "Pretty close call, what? Lucky for you +we _did_ hustle, I see." + +"Yes--but can you explain how it is you're here so soon? We hadn't dared +to look for you till to-night or to-morrow morning." + +"Oh, that's easily explained. We fell in with your messenger--Sir +Richard Wayne, isn't it?--on our way back to Cairo. We were returning +from a little punitive expedition"--he smiled pleasantly--"and were only +too glad to set out on another jaunt. We get fed-up lounging about +barracks, and these affairs come as quite a God-send in the wilderness." + +"By the way, where is Sir Richard?" Anstice had been scanning the +company, but could catch no glimpse of his friend. "His daughter, Mrs. +Cheniston, is here, you know, and she will be anxious----" + +"Ah, yes--I have a message for her. Is she here--can you take me to +her?" + +"She is here," said Anstice quietly, as Iris, hearing her name, +approached. "Mrs. Cheniston, this gentleman has a message for you--from +your father----" + +"I'm Lane--Captain Lane, Mrs. Cheniston." He saluted her hastily. "And +your father asked me to tell you he was quite well, only a little tired +with his double journey. He wanted very much to return with us, but he +really was not fit to turn back immediately; and knowing how a lame +duck"--he coughed and looked suddenly embarrassed--"I mean--how one man +may delay a squadron, so to speak, he very sensibly agreed to stay at +our camp for a few hours' rest. We shall pick him up as we go back," he +added, and Iris smiled rather wearily as she answered: + +"Thank you very much, Captain Lane. You are _sure_ my father is all +right?" + +"Certain--only a bit fagged, and no wonder, for he'd ridden hard. +Ah--and he told me to say you were to ask Dr. Anston--Anstice, is +it?--to help you in any matter in which you wanted a little help." + +"I will certainly do that," said Iris quietly; and as the other men +pressed round the little group, eagerly questioning the defenders of the +besieged Fort, Iris slipped away from the excited crowd so unobtrusively +that no eyes save those of Anstice witnessed her departure. + + * * * * * + +Three minutes later Anstice, leaving the rest planning the return +journey over the desert, went quietly in search of Iris. + +He found her, as he had half expected, standing by the window of the +room in which Bruce Cheniston had died; and in her eyes was a forlorn +look which showed him the measure of her desolation in this sunrise +hour. + +Quietly as he had entered she had heard him come, and turned to face him +with a rather tremulous smile. + +"Mrs. Cheniston, I came to look for you." He approached as he spoke; and +in spite of herself she felt comforted by the mere fact of his presence. +"You are not worrying because your father very wisely let those fellows +come on ahead of him?" + +"N-no," she said, with a queer little catch in her breath. "Only--I had +so wanted--so hoped--to see my father--_soon_." + +"I know," he said quietly, "and you _will_ see him--very soon. We shall +start this afternoon, when the horses are rested; and then it will not +be many hours before you and your father meet again." + +"Yes." She looked at him with something of appeal in her eyes. "Dr. +Anstice, my father said you would help me ... you will, won't you? You +know," said Iris simply, "you are the only person I can turn to--now." + +More moved by her words than he cared to show, Anstice answered her, not +impetuously, but with something in his manner which would have inspired +confidence in any woman. + +"Mrs. Cheniston, I will do all I can--and God knows I am grateful to Him +for allowing me the chance of helping you--now. If you will trust +yourself to me I will not relinquish my trust until I give you safely +into your father's keeping. You _will_ trust me?" + +"Yes, Dr. Anstice." She held out her hands to him as she spoke in token +of sincerity. "I would trust you--to the end of the world!" + + * * * * * + +And as he took her hands in his and vowed himself afresh to her service +Anstice knew, with a great lightening of his spirit, that during the +night march over the desert, that which he had almost dared to hope +might happen, had indeed come to pass; that the chains with which his +own action had shackled his soul had fallen from him for ever, and that +full atonement for Hilda Ryder's death had been made at last. + + * * * * * + +FAMOUS NOVELS BY KATHLYN RHODES + + + THE LURE OF THE DESERT + THE DESERT DREAMERS + THE WILL OF ALLAH + SWEET LIFE + AFTERWARDS + FLOWER OF GRASS + THE MAKING OF A SOUL + + +_In cloth, with attractive pictorial wrapper, 1/6 net._ + +Vivid descriptions of the entrancing scenery of the East, incident +crowding upon incident, romantic situations, exciting intrigues, +unexpected dénouements hold and absorb the interest from start to +finish. + + KATHLYN RHODES + is the assured success of 1918, + as GERTRUDE PAGE was the success of 1916 + and MABEL BARNES-GRUNDY of 1917. + +Fired with enthusiasm to win fame as a novelist, Kathlyn Rhodes began +her career before her school days were ended. "Sweet Life" followed +shortly afterwards; and the appreciation which this won encouraged the +authoress to follow quickly with other stories. Choice of subject she +holds to be of primary importance. With the war depressing us all +around, she believes that many readers prefer stories that permit them +for the time to forget it; and this she achieves by her delightful +flights of fancy through the realms of many lands. + +These are the stories to send to your soldier friends to combat the +horrors of warfare and the tedium of the hospitals; and the stories to +read yourself to relieve the weary vigils we must keep at home. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Afterwards, by Kathlyn Rhodes + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AFTERWARDS *** + +***** This file should be named 21867-8.txt or 21867-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/1/8/6/21867/ + +Produced by David Clarke, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: Afterwards + +Author: Kathlyn Rhodes + +Release Date: June 19, 2007 [EBook #21867] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AFTERWARDS *** + + + + +Produced by David Clarke, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + + + + + +<h1><i>Afterwards</i></h1> + +<h2><i>By Kathlyn Rhodes</i></h2> + +<h3><i>Author of "The Desert Dreamers," "The Will of Allah," "The Lure of the +Desert," etc.</i></h3> + +<h4>LONDON: HUTCHINSON & CO.<br /> +PATERNOSTER ROW</h4> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Printed in Great Britain By</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Richard Clay & Sons, Limited,</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">brunswick st., stamford st., s. e. 1,</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">and bungay, suffolk.</span></h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> + +<a href="#PROLOGUE">PROLOGUE</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#I">I</a><br /> +<a href="#II">II</a><br /> +<a href="#III">III</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#BOOK_I">BOOK I</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#BOOK_II">BOOK II</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IA">CHAPTER I</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IIA">CHAPTER II</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IIIA">CHAPTER III</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IVA">CHAPTER IV</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VA">CHAPTER V</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIA">CHAPTER VI</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIIA">CHAPTER VII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIIIA">CHAPTER VIII</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#BOOK_III">BOOK III</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IB">CHAPTER I</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IIB">CHAPTER II</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IIIB">CHAPTER III</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IVB">CHAPTER IV</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VB">CHAPTER V</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIB">CHAPTER VI</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#FAMOUS_NOVELS_BY_KATHLYN_RHODES">FAMOUS NOVELS BY KATHLYN RHODES</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="PROLOGUE" id="PROLOGUE"></a><i>PROLOGUE</i></h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2> + + +<p>"Dr. Anstice"—the girl spoke slowly, and her voice was curiously +flat—"how much longer have we—before dawn?"</p> + +<p>Without replying, the man glanced at his watch; and when he spoke his +voice, too, was oddly devoid of tone.</p> + +<p>"I think—only an hour now."</p> + +<p>"Only an hour." In the gloom of the hut the girl's face grew very pale. +"And then——" She broke off, shuddering.</p> + +<p>"Miss Ryder, don't think of it. After all, we need not give up hope yet. +An hour—why, heaps of things may happen in an hour."</p> + +<p>A wan little smile touched the girl's lips, and she came a step nearer +her companion.</p> + +<p>"Don't let us buoy ourselves up with false hopes," she said quietly. "In +your heart you know quite well that nothing on earth can save us now. +When the sun rises"—in spite of herself she shivered—"we shall die."</p> + +<p>The man said nothing for a moment. In his heart he knew she spoke the +truth; yet being a man he tried once more to reassure her.</p> + +<p>"Miss Ryder, I won't allow that." Taking her hand he led her once more +to the rude bench on which she had spent the night. "There <i>is</i> a +chance—a faint one, I admit, but still an undeniable chance."</p> + +<p>"You mean——?" Although she tried to speak calmly he heard the tiny +thrill of hope in her voice, and in his soul he wondered whether, after +all, he were not acting cruelly in speaking thus.</p> + +<p>"I mean our absence must have been noticed long ago. When we did not +return in time for the picnic lunch or tea, someone must have wondered +where we were; and it is quite possible we were seen to enter the Temple +earlier in the day."</p> + +<p>"That awful Temple!" The horror in her eyes made his heart beat +pitifully over her. "If only I had not been so foolish as to insist on +entering! You didn't know how dangerous it was to go in, but I did—at +least, I knew something of the danger—and I would go ... and then—the +uncanny silence, the sudden knowledge that we were not alone ... that +something, <i>someone</i> malignant, hateful, was watching us—and then those +awful men who seized us ... oh!" The agony of remembrance was too much +for her, and she sank back, half-fainting, against the wall.</p> + +<p>"Miss Ryder, don't go over it all again!" Although it seemed certain +that they had only an hour to live, Anstice could not bear to see her +suffer now. "Don't let us think of what has happened—let us try to +imagine that we are saved—as indeed we may be yet!" But he stole a +glance out of the empty window-space as he spoke, and his heart sank to +note the lightening of the Indian night's soft dusk.</p> + +<p>"I think not." Her tone was calm, almost indifferent, but her +apprehensive eyes belied her voice. "Dr. Anstice, you have not forgotten +your promise? If ... if it comes to the worst, you—you won't let me +fall into—<i>their</i> hands?"</p> + +<p>And then he knew that in spite of her endeavours to be brave, to face +the impending fate heroically, she too had had her doubts throughout the +long hours of their imprisonment—doubts as to whether death would +indeed come to her with the merciful swiftness of a fanatic's bullet....</p> + +<p>And because he shared her doubt, because he, too, had wondered whether +he alone would be shot at dawn, while she, his companion in this +horrible nightmare, were reserved for some far more ghastly fate, +because of his wonder and his doubt Anstice rejoiced in the fact that he +had it in his power to save her from the worst that could happen.</p> + +<p>He had not given his promise-lightly; yet having given it he would +fulfil it, if the God who seemed to have deserted them in their need +should see fit to nerve him to the deed.</p> + +<p>She was looking at him wistfully, with something of horror behind the +wistfulness; and he could not bear to keep her waiting any longer for +the assurance she craved.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said gently, and there was a tender note in his voice. "I will +keep my word. You shall not fall into their hands. I promise you that."</p> + +<p>She sighed faintly, and made room for him beside her on the rough seat.</p> + +<p>"That is settled, then. And now, just for this last half-hour, let us +pretend that we are in no danger, that we are waiting for our friends, +the friends we ran away from at the picnic—yesterday."</p> + +<p>Something in her own words startled her, and she broke off abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Well?" He smiled at her. "Let us pretend. How shall we begin?"</p> + +<p>"Was it only yesterday?" Her accent thrilled him through and through. +"Did we really start out from my uncle's bungalow yesterday morning? How +gay we were, weren't we—all the twenty of us ... you and I leading +because our horses were the best and I knew the way...."</p> + +<p>"Yes—and all the smart young officers looking daggers at me because I +had carried you off!" His tone was admirably light.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" Hilda Ryder actually laughed, and in the dim and gloomy hut +her laughter sounded almost uncanny. "I'm sure no one was in the least +envious! You see, we were new friends—and it is such a treat to meet +someone new out here!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. By Jove, we'd only met twice, hadn't we? Somehow I was thinking we +were quite old friends, you and I! But as you say, I was a new-comer, +this was my first visit to the East. Rather a change, India and the +snows, from a slum in Shoreditch!"</p> + +<p>"Shoreditch? Did you really live in a slum?"</p> + +<p>"Rather—and quite enjoyed it!" He laughed at her incredulous face. "It +was experience, you see—disease flourishes in many and divers forms +down there, and although I couldn't contemplate staying there for ever, +the time wasn't wasted."</p> + +<p>"And then—you left your slum?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I wanted more time to myself." He threw back his head as he +talked, and swept the curly black hair off his brow with an impatient +hand. "You see I had visions—oh, purely futile ones, I daresay—but I +had a great idea of finding a cure for a certain disease generally +considered incurable——" He broke off suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Well? You have found it?" Her tone was eager.</p> + +<p>"Not yet—but I shall!" In his enthusiasm he had forgotten the present, +forgotten the horror which was coming nearer with great strides as the +morning brightened in the sky. He saw only the future—not the immediate +future—death, with his back against the wall of the courtyard, his face +turned to the rising sun; but the splendid, strenuous future, when after +good years of toil, of experience, even of suffering, he should make the +great discovery which should free mankind from one of its most grievous +foes, and add a precious treasure to the scientific storehouse of the +world....</p> + +<p>"It's a difficult task—almost superhumanly difficult!" His black eyes +snapped at the thought of the difficulties in the way. "But thank God +I'm young and full of hope—the hope that belongs to youth—and with +luck I believe I'll win through in the end...."</p> + +<p>A sudden shaft of rosy light, striking slantwise through the windowless +aperture in the wall, brought him to a standstill.</p> + +<p>"Sunrise! My God—I—I'd forgotten!" In an instant the youth and +enthusiasm were wiped out of his face as by a ruthless hand, and he +started to his feet. "Miss Ryder, forgive me! I've been talking like a +fool, and you sit there listening like an angel, while all the time——"</p> + +<p>"Hush, please!" She laid her hand on his arm, and through the sleeve of +his thin riding-suit he felt the chill of her slender fingers. "It isn't +time—yet. Let us pretend until the last minute. You know—you haven't +asked me what I intend—intended"—for a second she faltered—"to make +of <i>my</i> life!"</p> + +<p>Inwardly cursing his own folly, Anstice sat down again beside her and +took her hand in his as a brother might have done.</p> + +<p>"Well, what is ... was...." He, too, bungled over the tense, but she +pretended not to notice his confusion. "What are you going to be—or do? +I hope your dreams are as wild as mine!"</p> + +<p>"Not quite!" Her tone robbed the words of all offence. "Mine are very +humble dreams, I'm afraid! You see"—for a second her voice shook, but +she steadied it and continued to speak—"there's a man in Egypt whom I +am—was—oh, what can I say?—whom I was to marry—some day."</p> + +<p>"Really? You're engaged?" A fresh pang of pity shot through his heart.</p> + +<p>"Yes. He's an engineer—in the Irrigation Department—and the best man +in all the world!" For a moment love triumphed over death, and its glory +illuminated the gloom of that fatal place of imprisonment with a hint of +immortality. "That's <i>my</i> ambition, Dr. Anstice—to love him and marry +him, and be a true and faithful wife—and perhaps"—her voice sank a +note—"perhaps in time to bear his children. That"—said Hilda Ryder, +and now her eyes were full of dreams—"would be to me the most glorious +destiny in the world!"</p> + +<p>Her soft voice trembled into silence, and for the space of twenty +heart-beats the two sat motionless, only their hands seeking the mutual +comfort which their warm contact might well bring.</p> + +<p>Then, with a sudden movement, Hilda Ryder sprang to her feet and crossed +the mud floor to the aperture in the wall.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice, the sun is rising. I suppose—now—we have only a few +minutes more to live."</p> + +<p>He followed her across the floor and together they watched the dawning +of the day which was to be the herald of death. With the inexorable +swiftness of the East the sun was rushing into the sky in all his glory +of scarlet and pearl, and in spite of the significance of his triumphal +rising the two who watched him caught their breath at the rosy +magnificence of his entry.</p> + +<p>But Hilda's words must not go unanswered; and with a resolute squaring +of his shoulders Anstice turned from the gorgeous world outside to the +dimness of the hut.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, rather slowly and deliberately. "I am afraid we have +only a few minutes left—now."</p> + +<p>Curiously, she cavilled at his choice of words.</p> + +<p>"Why do you say—afraid?" He could not understand her tone. "You are not +afraid to die—it's I who am such a pitiful coward that I daren't face +death—out there in the sunlight."</p> + +<p>"You're not a coward, Miss Ryder!" Impulsively he patted her shoulder, +and in spite of everything his action thrilled her with a sense of +comfort. "Why, all through this dreadful night you've behaved like a +heroine, and if your courage fails you a little now—which I hardly +believe—well, that's excusable, at any rate!"</p> + +<p>"Have I been brave?" She looked at him with wide blue eyes like the eyes +of a child. "I am glad of that, seeing it was I who led us into this by +profaning—and making you profane—their Temple. I was afraid I had been +dreadfully cowardly. I—I didn't feel brave, you know!"</p> + +<p>"You poor little girl!" She was nearly as tall as he, a stately young +woman, in truth, but suddenly he saw her as a frightened child. "You've +been braver—much braver than I—and I wish to God I could have got you +safely out of this! What do you say? Shall we break open the door and +make a dash for it? We might win through—if the guards were taken by +surprise——"</p> + +<p>"Have you forgotten the high wall of the courtyard—and the great gates +which can only be opened by three men?" He <i>had</i> forgotten, and her +reminder seemed to close the last avenue of escape. "No, Dr. Anstice, +that's not the way out. But——" A sudden noise outside made her start, +and her voice grew hoarse suddenly and broke. "Oh, you won't fail me, +will you? You have my revolver safe?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." It lay safely hidden in an inner pocket, its tiny size alone +having prevented its discovery by alien hands. "I have it in my pocket. +There's only one cartridge, but that will be enough if—if we have need +of it."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Dr. Anstice." To his surprise and admiration she had +regained her courage, the threatened collapse of the previous moment +gone for ever. "Then I can wait quite calmly. But"—her blue eyes met +his very fully—"you won't delay too long? The moment they come you +will—do what you have promised?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear." In that second he forgot that their acquaintance was barely +a week old, forgot that Hilda Ryder was the promised bride of another +man. In this moment all external circumstances were forgotten, and +nothing remained but the fact that they were called upon to face death +together, and that to him alone could the girl look for comfort and help +in the bitter hour which faced them. And he knew that his hand must be +steady to do her service; that he must guide her footsteps unfalteringly +to the gate through which she must pass in all her radiant youth; must +support and strengthen her with hand and voice so that she might look +the dark angel fearlessly in the face and pass that frowning portal with +unflinching step and dauntless mien.</p> + +<p>In the hour of death he must help her to be true to herself, so that no +craven fear should sully her proud soul, and with this high resolve he +turned to her with the little word of endearment on his lips, and laid +his hand on her arm with a touch of real affection.</p> + +<p>"I will do what I have promised when the moment comes." He felt a little +shiver run over her body and his hand tightened on her arm. "Dear, it +will soon be over. Really you need not be afraid."</p> + +<p>"Tell me"—she turned to him, and the look in her eyes thrilled him +through and through—"does it <i>hurt</i>—death when it comes like—that?"</p> + +<p>"No." He spoke firmly. "You must not think of that. It is all over in a +second—and you know"—he hesitated—"after all, this life is not +everything."</p> + +<p>"No." A new light touched her eyes for a moment, a light brighter than +that of the rising sun. "There is a life beyond, isn't there? My mother +died three years ago, and I have missed her sorely," said Hilda Ryder +simply. "Surely she will greet me—there. But"—for a moment a great +human yearning shook her soul—"it's hard to leave this dear life +behind ... the world is so wonderful, so lovely—I'm sure no other world +can ever be half so beautiful as this."</p> + +<p>A sudden clamour in the courtyard outside drove the colour from her +cheeks, and instinctively she clung to him.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice, they're coming, aren't they? Is this—really—the end?"</p> + +<p>For a second he listened, the blood running icily in his veins. Then he +turned to her with a smile on his lips.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I think they are coming—now. But"—his voice changed—"after all, +there might be a chance—for you!"</p> + +<p>Instead of reassuring her his words drove her to a white-lipped terror.</p> + +<p>"You're not going to fail me now? Dr. Anstice, for the love of God, do +as you promised—I will be brave, I will indeed—only don't let them +take me—oh, don't!"</p> + +<p>"It's all right, dear." He slipped his arm round her and drew her +closely to him. "I won't fail you. I thought for a moment there might be +a chance, but after all this is the better way."</p> + +<p>"I knew you could be brave—for me," she said, very softly; and then, as +a native voice outside the hut called an order, he felt her tremble in +his arms. "They are coming—Dr. Anstice, let us say good-bye—or"—she +actually smiled—"shall it be <i>au revoir</i>?"</p> + +<p>"That, I think," he said steadily, holding the little revolver hidden in +his hand as he spoke. "Dear, I'm going to do it now ... close your eyes, +and then you will know nothing till you open them to see your mother's +face."</p> + +<p>A long sigh shook her from head to foot. Then she closed her eyes +obediently.</p> + +<p>"Thank you." They were the last words he heard her say as he raised the +revolver; and the next moment the merciful deed was done, and Hilda +Ryder was safe for ever from the vengeance of the fanatics whom she had +all unwittingly enraged.</p> + +<p>Then, as the door opened at last, and two grave-faced Indians entered +and motioned to Anstice to accompany them into the courtyard, he went +out unflinchingly into the sunlight to meet his fate.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> + + +<p>Late that night two British officers sat on the verandah of a bungalow +in the hills, discussing the tragedy which had happened at dawn.</p> + +<p>"It's an appalling affair altogether," said the elder man, as he threw +away his half-smoked cigar. "If we had been five minutes earlier we +should have saved the girl, and the man would have been spared a +lifetime's regret."</p> + +<p>"Yes." The other officer, who was young and very human, spoke slowly, +and his eyes were thoughtful. "It is a good deal worse for the man than +the woman, after all. Shall you ever forgot his face when he realized +that he was saved? And by Jove it was a near thing for him, too."</p> + +<p>"Too near to be pleasant," rejoined his companion grimly. "Of course, no +one but a lunatic would have allowed the girl to enter that Temple. +Don't you remember that affair a couple of years ago, when two American +fellows only just got out in time?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." Young Payton's voice was dubious. "But you must remember, sir, +Anstice was a new-comer, and didn't know the yarn—and it is just +possible Miss Ryder didn't know it either. Or she may have +over-persuaded him."</p> + +<p>"Well, she's paid for her folly, poor girl." Colonel Godfrey rose. "Her +uncle's off his head about it, and what the fellow she was to marry will +say remains to be seen. I suppose he'll want an explanation from +Anstice."</p> + +<p>"Why, you don't mean he'll blame the man for doing what he did?" The +young officer spoke boyishly. "After all, it was the only thing to do. +Fancy, if the girl had fallen into the hands of those fanatics! Shooting +would have been a merciful death compared to the life she might have had +to endure."</p> + +<p>"Of course, of course!" Colonel Godfrey rose and moved to the steps of +the verandah, where he stood looking absently out over the moonlit +world. "It was the only thing to do—and yet, what a tragedy it has all +been! By the way, where is Anstice? I've not seen him since we came in."</p> + +<p>"He's in hospital. Got a nasty swipe across the shoulder in the +rough-and-tumble before we got away, and it gave Dr. Morris an excuse to +shove morphia into him to keep him quiet a bit. Of course when he comes +round I expect he'll be pretty sick about it all, but at least the poor +devil has got a few hours' respite."</p> + +<p>"That's a blessing, anyway. Wonder what he'll do after this. Sort of +thing to ruin a man's nerve, what?"</p> + +<p>"Probably take to drink—or drugs," said Payton succinctly. "Some chaps +would put a bullet through their brains, but I don't fancy Anstice is +the sort to do that."</p> + +<p>"Don't you?" For a second Colonel Godfrey hesitated, still looking out +over the garden to where the line of the eternal snows glimmered white +and passionless in the splendid moonlight. "Yet you know, my boy, one +could hardly blame a man for blowing out his brains after a tragedy of +this sort. No." With a last glance at the mystery of the snows he turned +back to the lighted verandah and took out his cigar-case. "I think one +could not blame this fellow Anstice if he chose that way out." He +selected a cigar with care. "After all, he must feel as though he had +murdered the girl, and though I fully agree with you that there was +nothing else to be done, still one can imagine how the memory of the +deed will haunt the poor chap all his life."</p> + +<p>"Yes." Rex Payton lifted his cap from the table and prepared to take his +leave. "Well, good-night, sir. I think I'll just step across and see how +he's getting on. By Jove, what a magnificent night. It's as bright as +day out here."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Let me know in the morning how things are going."</p> + +<p>"Right you are, sir." With another hasty good-night Rex turned and +strode away across the compound in search of the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Still asleep, thank God," was Morris' report. "Give you my word I dread +his awakening."</p> + +<p>"Seems a pity he's got to wake at all," said Payton moodily. "Couldn't +you have given him a double dose while you were about it, and put the +poor devil out of his misery?"</p> + +<p>"That's not the way we work," returned the other dryly. "There's been +one—miscalculation—to-day, and we can't afford any more. If he likes +to do it himself, when he comes round, that's a different matter. I +don't think he will, somehow. He doesn't strike me as that sort. He'll +face it out, I believe, though it will go hard with him in the doing."</p> + +<p>"When will he be himself again?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I shall keep him under as long as I dare. After all"—the +doctor, who prided himself on his lack of emotion, for once betrayed a +glimpse of the real humanity beneath the rather grim exterior—"he'll +have to serve a life-sentence in the way of regret, and one can't grudge +the poor wretch an hour or two's Nirvana."</p> + +<p>And:</p> + +<p>"By God, sir, I agree with you," was all Rex Payton could find to say.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> + + +<p>One evening three weeks later Anstice sat in the smoke-room of a +well-known hotel in Bombay waiting for the arrival of the one person in +the world whom he might have been expected to avoid.</p> + +<p>The P. and O. boat had docked that afternoon; and among the passengers +was the man to whom Hilda Ryder had been engaged—the man to whom +Anstice must answer for the deed done as the sun rose on that fatal +morning twenty-one dawns ago.</p> + +<p>The news of the girl's death had been cabled to the young engineer in +Cairo immediately, followed by a letter from Colonel Godfrey relating so +much of the affair as he himself knew; and in response had come a +laconic message to the effect that Bruce Cheniston had sought and +obtained leave, and would be in India at the first possible moment. He +had been delayed by one or two accidents, but now he had really arrived; +and Anstice had come down to meet him, knowing that before he himself +could leave this fatal country there must be an explanation between the +man who had loved Hilda Ryder, and the one who had been too hasty in +carrying out a promise.</p> + +<p>To say that he shrank from this interview would hardly be true. As a +matter of fact, in the weeks which had elapsed since that fatal morning +Anstice had wandered in a world of shadows. Nothing seemed real, acute, +not even the memory of the thing he had done. Everything was mercifully +blurred, unreal. He was like a man stunned, who sees things without +realizing them; or a man suffering from some form of poison—from +indulgence in <i>hashish</i>, for instance, when time and space lose all +significance, and the thing which was and that which is become strangely +and unaccountably interchangeable.</p> + +<p>That there must be a reckoning between himself and Cheniston, Anstice +vaguely knew. Yet he felt no dread, and very little curiosity as to the +manner of their meeting; and although he recognized the fact that the +man to whom Hilda Ryder had been engaged might well look on him with +horror, inasmuch as his hand had sent her to her death, Anstice felt +little interest in the matter as it concerned himself.</p> + +<p>Possibly he was still feeling the effects of that morning's happening, +although unaware of it. He had received a nasty wound—even now his +shoulder was stiff and painful—and since he had discontinued the use of +opiates he had had little or no sleep; but he was a man of good +physique, and only an unaccustomed pallor and a few finely-drawn lines +round his mouth betrayed the fact that he had suffered—was suffering +still.</p> + +<p>One or two men glanced at him curiously as he sat in a corner, gazing +ahead of him with an unseeing stare; but only one man, a young officer +called Trent, recognized him as the hero of the tragedy which had shaken +the district of Alostan a few weeks earlier.</p> + +<p>Being a talkative person he could not refrain from pointing Anstice out +to his companion.</p> + +<p>"See that chap over there—the tall fellow in grey?" Trent had been one +of the picnic party which had ended in disaster; and although a +good-hearted boy was thrilled with the importance of his own position. +"Know who it is? Well, it's that chap Anstice—you remember, the fellow +who shot that girl up in the hills when they were in a tight place."</p> + +<p>"Oh! That the man?" The other, who was a portly civilian, looked at the +unconscious Anstice with open interest. "Shocking affair, what? If he'd +held his hand five minutes they would both have been rescued. Wasn't +that it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Looks a bit sick about it, doesn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Um ... yes. Good-looking fellow, in a hard-bitten sort of way." The +civilian looked Anstice over, approving the thin, well-cut face, the +tall, loosely-built figure, the long hands lying idly on the arms of his +chair. "Rather foreign-looking, with that black hair and those dark +eyes, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Looks years older than he did before it happened," said Trent, +speaking the truth. "I expect, though, it <i>is</i> the sort of thing to age +one."</p> + +<p>"Yes. What's he doing here? Going home?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I fancy he's got an appointment with Cheniston first," +explained the younger man importantly. "Boat got in this afternoon, and +I expect Cheniston wants to hear the affair at first-hand."</p> + +<p>"Daresay. Rather rough on the poor devil." The civilian, beneath his +pompous exterior, had a kind heart. "Bad enough to have to shoot the +girl first, without explaining it all afterwards. Hope to goodness the +other chap lets him down lightly."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, he can't say much." Trent broke off abruptly. "Here is +Cheniston ... by Jove, I wouldn't like to be Anstice at this moment."</p> + +<p>Unconscious of the interest he was arousing, a young man had just +entered the room. He was of medium height, broad-shouldered and bronzed, +with a good-looking, square face and a resolute chin. Just now he was +pale beneath his tan, and his eyes, which were narrow in shape and of a +rather hard blue, were strained and anxious.</p> + +<p>Inside the room, he looked uncertainly round; and the next moment +Anstice rose slowly to his feet.</p> + +<p>"You are Mr. Cheniston?" They might have been alone in a desert for all +the notice he took of any onlookers. "I think you are looking for me. My +name is Anstice."</p> + +<p>Bruce Cheniston nodded abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I'm Cheniston. We can't talk here. Will you come up to my room?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks." He moved forward, and Cheniston turned to the door.</p> + +<p>"This way. I'm some floors up—we'll take the lift."</p> + +<p>In silence they made the ascent; and now to his own unwelcome surprise +Anstice felt himself awaking from the merciful stupor in which he had +been sunk for so many unnoticed days.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he began to realize what this interview must mean to Cheniston; +and the knowledge that he must tear the knife from his own wound in +order to plunge it into the heart of the young man opposite him made him +feel as though he were already inwardly bleeding to death.</p> + +<p>From being vague and blurred his senses now became preternaturally +acute. His surroundings were no longer dim and formless, rather +everything grew inhumanly sharp and vivid. To the end of his life he +would preserve an extraordinarily faithful recollection of the room into +which Cheniston presently ushered him—the usual hotel bedroom in India, +with high green walls, mosquito curtains, and an entire absence of all +superfluities in the way of furniture or adornment.</p> + +<p>On the floor lay a Gladstone bag, half open as the owner had carelessly +left it; and Anstice found himself idly speculating as to whether the +white and purple striped glory which protruded from it was a shirt or a +pair of pyjamas....</p> + +<p>His wandering thoughts were suddenly recalled to the affair of the +moment; and the minor things of life were forgotten in the onrush of the +vital things, the things which matter....</p> + +<p>"Now, Dr. Anstice"—Anstice's professional instinct, so long in +abeyance, warned him that the man's self-control was only, so to speak, +skin-deep; and a quite unexpected and inexplicable rush of pity +overwhelmed him as the cold voice went on speaking—"I think you will +realize that I should like to hear your account of—of the affair that +took place in that accursed Temple."</p> + +<p>"I quite realize that." Anstice spoke slowly. "And I am ready to answer +any questions you may like to ask."</p> + +<p>"I—I think——" For a second Cheniston wavered, then spoke more +humanly. "Won't you sit down? I should like, if I may, to hear the whole +story from the beginning."</p> + +<p>"I see. Well, you are quite within your rights in wishing to hear the +story. No, I won't sit down, thanks. It won't take very long to tell."</p> + +<p>Cheniston moved a step backwards and sat down on the edge of the bed, +pushing the mosquito curtain impatiently aside. Then he took out his +cigarette case, and, still with his steel-blue eyes on the other man's +face, selected a cigarette which he held, unlighted, as he listened.</p> + +<p>Standing in the middle of the floor, his hands in the pockets of his +coat, Anstice began his story, and in spite of the fact that this man +had robbed him of all that he held dear in life, Cheniston was forced to +admit that at least he was proving himself no coward.</p> + +<p>"When we set off on that fatal picnic"—Anstice took it for granted that +his hearer knew the details of the occasion—"Miss Ryder and I went on +ahead. We were both well mounted, and she was, as you know, a fearless +horsewoman. We very soon out-distanced the others, and had gone a good +way when Miss Ryder suggested we should visit a certain Temple of which +it seems she had heard a great deal from a native servant. Had I known +then, as I know now, the reputation of the place, and the intense hatred +which the priests felt for any of the white races since that unlucky +American affair"—he realized suddenly that he appeared to be excusing +himself, and his manner hardened—"well, I can only regret that I +allowed Miss Ryder to set foot in the place."</p> + +<p>"You went?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It was only a few miles off the track, and we were so far ahead of +the party that we should easily have had time to get to our original +destination for lunch. Well, we went on, found the Temple, apparently +deserted——"</p> + +<p>"Apparently?" The question shot out like steel. "There was someone +there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. We both realized at the same moment that we were not alone. You +must understand that the place is half in ruins—it's a clever +subterfuge of the priests to keep out intruders by pretending there is +nothing there of interest. Most people turn back after a perfunctory +look round; but in reality if one penetrates through one or two passages +one comes to the Temple proper, where Heaven knows what rites go on."</p> + +<p>"You reached it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Thinking the place was merely a ruin I went on quite +comfortably ... and suddenly we found ourselves in a sort of Holy of +Holies ... a queer, pillared place with an enormous idol in a kind of +recess—an altar, I suppose." His voice was tense. "It was at that moment +we both realized someone was watching us, malignantly, from some unseen +vantage-point. I turned to Miss Ryder to suggest, as quietly as +possible, that we should retrace our steps, and found her, very pale, +staring ahead of her with horror in her face."</p> + +<p>"She had seen—something?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Afterwards she told me it was the glitter of the man's eyes ... he +was looking through a kind of hole in the embroidered drapery behind the +idol ... that had attracted her attention; and she was only too ready to +fall in with my suggestion."</p> + +<p>"You were—prevented?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. As we turned towards the opening we found we were too late. Three +tall fellows—priests, I suppose they were—had come up behind us, and +as we moved they seized us ... two men held my arms—the third——" His +voice broke.</p> + +<p>"He—held Miss Ryder?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. He wasn't rough with her." The words, which happened to be untrue, +sounded painfully inadequate in his own ears. "They gave us no time to +explain anything, but took us before the Chief Priest, or someone of the +kind, and stated that we had been found desecrating the Temple by our +unhallowed presence."</p> + +<p>"You explained that you had done it in ignorance?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. But"—he smiled rather cynically—"they had evidently heard +that before. You know the Americans who got into trouble there had +really laid a plot to carry away some memento of their visit, and they +thought we were after loot of some kind, too, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"They wouldn't listen?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, they listened all right while I tried, with Miss Ryder's help, +to explain. She knew a few words of their tongue, and somehow a +situation of that sort sharpens one's wits to the extent of helping one +to understand a strange lingo. The upshot was we were blindfolded"—he +saw Cheniston wince at the thought of the indignity to the girl he had +loved—"and led away. Later we were placed in a conveyance of some sort, +a bullock cart, I imagine, and driven for hours over some of the worst +ground I've ever struck."</p> + +<p>"Well?" The interest of the story was gripping the other man through all +his horror, and his tone had lost its hostility for the moment. "And +then?"</p> + +<p>"Finally we were released, led into a small hut, our eyes were +unbandaged, and we were informed that our fate was being deliberated, +and the result would be made known to us at sunset."</p> + +<p>"And at sunset——"</p> + +<p>"At sunset we were sent for to the presence of a still more important +personage, another High Priest, I suppose. We were taken into a kind of +presence chamber, across the large courtyard, and found our friends of +the morning, kow-towing to this still higher potentate. He didn't waste +words on us. Through the miserable creature who had interpreted for us +earlier, he made us understand that the penalty for setting foot in +their holy place was death—by strangulation as a general rule——"</p> + +<p>Cheniston's lips turned white, and his cigarette dropped to the floor; +but though Anstice saw his agitation he paid no attention.</p> + +<p>"But in consideration of the fact that we were English and one of us was +a woman"—Cheniston uttered an involuntary exclamation—"our sentence +was that we should be shot in the courtyard at sunrise."</p> + +<p>"One moment." Cheniston's voice was harsh, and he moistened his lips +before he spoke. "Weren't you armed? Couldn't you have—have made a +fight for it?"</p> + +<p>For the first time Anstice lost control of himself. The dark blood +rushed to his brow and his eyes flashed with anger.</p> + +<p>"Good God, man, do you suppose if I'd been armed we should have +submitted tamely? As a matter of fact, the brutes who attacked us in the +first place seized my revolver before I had a chance to draw it ... and +though I'm pretty tough, when it came to a struggle with those Indian +devils they were like steel—iron—anything you choose to compare them +with."</p> + +<p>"I know—their muscles are marvellous—especially the Hill-men." His +tone held a note of apology. "Of course, if you had had half a +chance—but"—suddenly his voice changed, grew suspicious—"you had a +revolver, in the end?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Miss Ryder's. They did not suspect her of carrying a weapon, you +see, and it was a tiny one her uncle had given her, more as a toy than +as a serious protection."</p> + +<p>"She couldn't get at it to use it?"</p> + +<p>"No. We were bound as well as blindfolded, you know." He spoke grimly. +"Luckily Miss Ryder had the presence of mind to say nothing about it +till we were alone in the hut, our hands untied. Then she gave it to me, +and we found to our dismay that there was only one cartridge left."</p> + +<p>"How was that?" He spoke quickly, but there was no suspicion in his tone +now.</p> + +<p>"Miss Ryder explained that she had been practising shooting with her +uncle and had forgotten to reload. But"—he paused—"even had it been +fully charged, I'm afraid our fate would have been unchanged."</p> + +<p>Cheniston rose suddenly, took a few aimless steps across the floor, and +then sank down on the bed again almost in his former position. In front +of him Anstice stood motionless, his hands, clenched now, still in his +pockets, his eyes the only live feature in the grey pallor of his face.</p> + +<p>"Well!" Suddenly he threw back his head with a restless gesture, as +though the strain of the interview was beginning to tell on him. "After +hearing our sentence we were taken back to our hut, there to await the +moment of sunrise—of our death."</p> + +<p>"They gave you no food?" The question was almost futile in its +triviality; but Anstice answered it quite naturally.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, we were given food of a sort. Luckily I had a little flask of +brandy, and once—at midnight—I persuaded Miss Ryder to take a few +drops. She was splendidly brave throughout."</p> + +<p>There was a short silence. Both men felt that the crux of the interview +was at hand; and each, in his way, was preparing himself for it.</p> + +<p>"Well?" It was Cheniston who spoke first. "The night wore on, I suppose, +and you saw no hope of escape? But didn't you guess your absence would +be remarked upon?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. And we hoped against hope that someone would remember the +Temple."</p> + +<p>"They did—in the end?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and made all possible speed to reach it. But by that time we had +been taken away, there was no one to be seen, and of course all traces +of us had absolutely disappeared."</p> + +<p>"Then how did they find you in the end?"</p> + +<p>"The native servant who had talked of the wonders of the Temple to Miss +Ryder was aghast when he found what harm his talk had done. It seems she +had cured his little boy of some childish illness, and he simply +worshipped her in consequence. So he was wild to rescue her, and after +dispatching parties of searchers in every likely direction he suddenly +recollected hearing of some mysterious High Priest in a tiny village in +the hills, which was so securely hidden from observation that very few +people knew of its existence."</p> + +<p>"Colonel Godfrey said he would never have reached it without the +guidance of some native," said Cheniston thoughtfully. "Would that be +the man himself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It seemed his father had known the way and had told him in direst +secrecy how to reach the village; and when the officers were ready to +start he went with them, and by some stroke of luck hit the right road +at once, although the directions were fearfully complicated."</p> + +<p>"If only you had known——"</p> + +<p>"Do you think I don't say that to myself day after day?" Anstice's brow +was pearled with sweat. "If I had had the faintest idea there was any +chance of a rescue——"</p> + +<p>"I know, I know!" The other man moved restlessly. "Good God, man, I'm +not condemning you"—Anstice flushed hotly—"I'm only saying what a +pitiful mistake the whole thing was ... the tragedy might have been +averted if only——"</p> + +<p>"It's no use talking now." Anstice's tone was icy. "The thing's +happened, the mistake is made and can't be unmade. Only, if you think +<i>you</i> could have let her fall into the hands of those fanatics—well, I +couldn't, that's all."</p> + +<p>"She ... she asked you to ... to save her from that?" He hung on the +other man's answer as though his own life depended upon it.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I shouldn't have ventured to shoot her without her permission, you +know!" In a moment he repented of the ghastly pleasantry into which +exasperation had led him. "Forgive me, Cheniston—the thing's got on my +nerves ... I hardly know what I'm saying...."</p> + +<p>Cheniston, who had turned a sickly white beneath his bronze, looked at +him fiercely.</p> + +<p>"I'm making all allowances for you," he said between his teeth, "but I +can't stand much of that sort of thing, you know. Suppose you tell me, +without more ado, the nature of the—the bargain between you."</p> + +<p>Without more ado Anstice complied.</p> + +<p>"Miss Ryder made me promise that if the sun should rise before any help +came to us I would shoot her with my own hand so that she should not +have to face death—or worse—at the hands of our enemies."</p> + +<p>"You thought it might be—worse?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. My father was a doctor in China at the time of the Boxer rising," +said Anstice with apparent irrelevance. "And as a boy I heard stories +of—of atrocities to women—which haunted me for years. On my soul, +Cheniston"—he spoke with a sincerity which the other man could not +question—"I was ready—no, glad, to do Miss Ryder the service she asked +me."</p> + +<p>Twice Cheniston tried to speak, and twice his dry lips refused their +office. At last he conquered his weakness.</p> + +<p>"You waited till the sun rose ... and then ... you were sure ... you did +not doubt that the moment had come?"</p> + +<p>"No. I waited as long as I dared ... the sun had risen and we heard the +clamour in the courtyard outside...."</p> + +<p>"And so——" Again his parched lips would not obey his bidding.</p> + +<p>"When the men were at the very door of the hut I carried out my +promise," said Anstice steadily. "She closed her eyes ... I told her to, +so that she should not be afraid to see death coming ... and then ..." +at the recollection of that last poignant moment a slow shudder shook +him from head to foot, "... it was all over in a second. She did not +suffer—of that, at least, you may be certain."</p> + +<p>Cheniston's hand was over his eyes; and for a space the room was very +still.</p> + +<p>Then:</p> + +<p>"And you—you went out, as you thought, to meet your own death?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—and I wish to God I'd met it," said Anstice with an uncontrollable +outburst of bitterness. "I endured the shame, the horror of it all in +vain. You know what happened ... how just as the men were about to fire +the rescuers burst into the courtyard.... My God, why were they so late! +Or, being late, why did they come at all!"</p> + +<p>Cheniston's blue eyes, which had been full of a natural human anguish, +grew suddenly hard.</p> + +<p>"You are not particularly grateful to your rescuers," he said. "Yet if +they had been a few minutes later, you too would have been beyond their +help."</p> + +<p>Anstice was quick to notice the renewed hostility in the young man's +tone.</p> + +<p>"Just so." His manner, too, had changed. "But can you expect me to feel +a very vivid gratitude to the men who restored my life to me, seeing +with what memories that life must always be haunted?"</p> + +<p>"Need you endure the haunting of those memories?"</p> + +<p>The question, spoken quietly, yet with an obvious significance, took +Anstice aback. For a moment he frowned, his dazed mind fumbling after +the speaker's meaning.</p> + +<p>"<i>Need</i> I?" Suddenly he knew what Cheniston had meant to imply. "Ah—you +mean a man may always determine the length of his days?"</p> + +<p>Cheniston nodded, never taking his eyes off the other's face.</p> + +<p>"I see. Well, suicide would be a way out, of course. But"—for a second +his eyes hardened, grew stern—"I don't mean to take that way—unless +life grows too much for me. A second—mistake"—he spoke slowly—"would +not annul the first."</p> + +<p>"No." Cheniston's face had lost all its boyishness; it looked haggard, +unhappy, old. "Possibly not. But when one has made a mistake of so +tragic a nature I should have thought one would have been only too ready +to pay the price of one's miscalculation."</p> + +<p>For a second Anstice stared at him silently.</p> + +<p>"Just so," he said at last, very quietly, taking his hands out of his +pockets for the first time. "The question is, What is the price? And do +you really think that to repudiate a debt by running away from one's +creditor, so to speak, is as satisfactory a settlement as to pay it coin +by coin, each coin drawn from one's own heart's blood?"</p> + +<p>This time it was Cheniston who stared at him in non-comprehension. +Presently he said slowly:</p> + +<p>"I think I understand. You mean the strongest man is the one who can +stand up to any situation with which life confronts him; can pay a debt +to the uttermost farthing though it may make him bankrupt in the doing. +That is what you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Anstice steadily. "That is what I mean. God only knows what +the price may be, and whether I shall have the coin in my treasury when +I'm called on to pay ... if I am so called upon. And by the way"—his +face hardened—"do I understand you to mean that I'm your debtor—that +it is to you that the price may—one day—be paid?"</p> + +<p>Cheniston made no reply. The hostility had suddenly died out of his +eyes; and for a moment Anstice caught a glimpse of the man Hilda Ryder +had loved.</p> + +<p>"You know"—his square fingers played absently with his cigarette +case—"I have loved Hilda Ryder all my life. We were brought up together +as children; I was a few years older than she ... by the way, how old +are you?"</p> + +<p>Surprised, Anstice owned to his twenty-nine years.</p> + +<p>"And I am twenty-six. Hilda was twenty-four last year. Well, all my life +she has been the one—the only—woman in the world for me. We've been +engaged four years; her people wouldn't sanction it till she was twenty, +but we always knew we were made for one another, and Hilda used to say +she would rather be my wife than marry the richest, the most famous man +on earth!"</p> + +<p>Suddenly Anstice heard her soft voice in his ear.</p> + +<p>"To marry him ... perhaps in time to bear his children, would be to me +the most glorious destiny in the world...."</p> + +<p>A spasm of uncontrollable anguish convulsed his features for a moment; +but Cheniston was too intent on his own self-revelation to notice.</p> + +<p>"Life—without—Hilda seems impossible somehow." He laughed drearily. +"We have always been so happy together ... I can't imagine going on +without her."</p> + +<p>He paused, but Anstice said nothing. He did not know what to say.</p> + +<p>"I wonder—can I go on? Is it really required of me that I should +continue to hang on to an existence which is absolutely devoid of all +attraction, of all meaning?" He fixed his blue eyes on the other's face. +"You're a doctor, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>Anstice nodded.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, I daresay it has happened in your experience that some poor devil +doomed to a lifetime of torture, condemned, perhaps, to bear the burden +of the sins of his ancestors, has begged you to furnish him with the +means of escape ... there must be cases in which death is infinitely +preferable to life, and a doctor must know plenty of safe ways of +setting free the poor imprisoned wretch as one would free a miserable +caged bird. Tell me, has such an experience ever come your way?" He +spoke almost irritably now.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Anstice, "and if it has? What then?"</p> + +<p>"How have you answered such entreaties, I wonder? Even you can't pretend +that life is always a sacred thing; that a man isn't sometimes justified +in turning his back on the existence he never desired and yet has to +endure." He paused, and his eyes held a queer blue glitter. "Well, have +you nothing to say?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Anstice resolutely, moving a step forward as he spoke. "On +such a subject I have nothing to say—to you. If, as seems possible, you +are suggesting that I should furnish either you or myself with an easy +solution of the problem of our respective lives, I fear I must decline +the suggestion. I'm a doctor, not a murderer, although"—suddenly he bit +his lip and his face turned grey—"you, of all men, may be pardoned for +thinking me ready to act as one."</p> + +<p>The passing softness which had given him back his youth faded out of +Cheniston's face; and when he spoke even his voice sounded years older.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's no use talking, I suppose. After all"—his lip curled—"no +man is dependent on another's good offices if he decides to cut short +his sojourn on this delightful planet. Though it strikes me that if, as +you say, you feel you owe me a debt, you might perhaps allow me to fix +the method of payment."</p> + +<p>He stopped short, taken aback by Anstice's imperious gesture.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Cheniston." He spoke curtly, his eyes ablaze. "Life has +given us both—me as well as you—a terrible jar. But you won't make +things better by resenting what has happened. You have lost the woman +you loved, but I have lost a good deal more. With the best +intentions"—he smiled ironically at his own phrase—"I have ruined your +life; and my own. I am ready to admit I owe you some reparation for the +wrong I have quite innocently done you; and I am ready, also, to pay you +any price in reason which you may ask, either now or in the future. But +the price must be one which may decently be paid."</p> + +<p>"I see." Cheniston spoke slowly. "I think, after all, we may shelve the +question of payment between you and me. Personally I hope—you will +forgive my frankness—that we may never be called upon to meet again. +You see"—his voice broke, but he cleared his throat angrily and went +on—"I can't help remembering that if you had waited Miss Ryder would +still be alive."</p> + +<p>Anstice was stung to a last impulse of self-defence.</p> + +<p>"If I had waited—and the rescuers had not come, it is possible death +would have been a merciful alternative to Miss Ryder's fate," he said. +"I have tried to explain that what I did was done—as Miss Ryder would +be the first to admit—for the best. But I see you are determined to +look upon me as a criminal; and as I don't intend to excuse myself +further, well, I will echo your hope that we may never meet again."</p> + +<p>And without any further attempt at farewell Anstice turned on his heel +and walked out of the room; leaving Bruce Cheniston staring after him +with an expression of amazement not untinged with shame in his narrow +blue eyes.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_I" id="BOOK_I"></a>BOOK I</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + + +<p>"If you please, sir, a telephone message has come for you from Cherry +Orchard just now."</p> + +<p>Anstice put down the paper he had been idly studying and looked at the +maid.</p> + +<p>"Cherry Orchard? That's the big house on the Littlefield Road, isn't +it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. It has just been reopened, cook tells me."</p> + +<p>"Oh. And I am wanted there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. At once, the message was."</p> + +<p>"Very good. Tell Andrews to bring round the car immediately. And put +dinner back a bit, Alice, please."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir." The trim maid hurried away, and Anstice rose to obey the +summons, congratulating himself on the fact that the night was fine, and +the Littlefield Road good going.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later he was on his way; and in due course arrived at his +destination, a pretty old gabled house standing in a large and +old-fashioned garden, from whose famous cherry trees the place derived +its quaint name.</p> + +<p>Six months earlier Anstice had bought a practice in the Midlands, on the +death of its former owner; but this was the first time he had visited +Cherry Orchard; and as he waited for his ring to be answered he +remembered the maid's remark as to the recent reopening of the house +with a slight feeling of curiosity as to its tenant.</p> + +<p>He was not kept waiting long. An elderly manservant speedily appeared; +and his face, which wore a worried expression, lightened as he saw +Anstice standing on the steps.</p> + +<p>"Thank God you've come, sir." The gratitude was so obviously sincere +that Anstice felt glad he had not delayed his coming. "If you'll kindly +go upstairs, sir—the housekeeper is waiting for you, I believe."</p> + +<p>He relieved Anstice of his hat and coat with hands which shook; and at +the same moment a swarthy, foreign-looking woman hurried forward with +unmistakable eagerness.</p> + +<p>"You are the doctor, sir? Then will you come up at once? My mistress is +upstairs, and the sooner you see her the better."</p> + +<p>Without wasting time in questioning her, Anstice motioned to the speaker +to lead the way; which she did accordingly, hurrying up the black oak +staircase at a surprising pace; and giving Anstice no time to do more +than glance at the artistic treasures which were in evidence on every +side.</p> + +<p>She led him a few steps down a broad gallery, lighted by large and +finely-designed windows; and paused outside a door, turning to him with +an expression of appeal—he could call it nothing else—in her small but +intensely bright eyes.</p> + +<p>"You'll be very gentle with the poor lady, sir? You won't—won't fluster +her?" She broke off suddenly, appeared as though about to say something +more, then closed her lips as though she had thought better of the +impulse, and opening the door invited Anstice to enter.</p> + +<p>Somehow her last words had given Anstice a queer, but possibly +justifiable, suspicion that he was about to encounter a <i>malade +imaginaire</i>; and just for a second he felt a spasm of irritation at the +stress which had been laid on the urgent need for haste.</p> + +<p>All such thoughts fled, however, as his eyes fell on the face of the +patient he had come to see; for here was no neurotic invalid, no +hysterical sufferer who craved sympathy for quite imaginary woes.</p> + +<p>On the bed drawn up in front of one of the big casement windows lay a +young woman with closed eyes; and as he approached her side Anstice saw +that it was not sleep but unconsciousness which claimed her at that +moment.</p> + +<p>"How long has she been like this?" He spoke sharply, one hand on the +slender wrist.</p> + +<p>"It's two hours since she was seized, sir." The woman's voice shook. "No +sooner was my mistress in the house—she came home only to-day—than she +fainted clean away. We brought her round, the maids and me, and she was +better for a bit ... then up she would get to look after Miss Cherry, +and off she went again. It's nearly half an hour ago ... and we got so +anxious that Hagyard telephoned for you ... we thought it was the right +thing to do."</p> + +<p>"Quite the right thing." He was too intent on his patient to pay much +attention to the woman's speech; but she was quite content to stand +silent as he tried one means of restoration after another; and when, +finally, his efforts were successful, both Anstice and the housekeeper +breathed more freely.</p> + +<p>"Your mistress ... her name, by the way...."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carstairs, sir." She spoke with a tinge of reluctance, and even in +the stress of the moment Anstice wondered why.</p> + +<p>"Oh. Well, Mrs. Carstairs is coming round now, she will be herself in a +moment or two. By the way, just go and fill a hot-water bottle, will +you? It is chilly to-night, and Mrs. Carstairs will probably feel cold."</p> + +<p>With a last look at her mistress the woman turned to obey; and Anstice +moved back to the bed to find his patient's eyes open and fixed upon him +with something of perplexity in their depths.</p> + +<p>"Don't try to move just yet," he counselled her quickly. "You've had a +bad faint, and must lie still for a little while. Do you feel better?"</p> + +<p>"Much better, thank you." Her voice, though it sounded weak, was oddly +deep in tone. "I suppose I fainted. Did they send for you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Your servants were getting alarmed." He smiled. "But there is no +need for alarm now. What you want is a long rest. You have been +overtiring yourself, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>A peculiar smile, which was mocking and yet sad, curved her lips for a +moment. Then she said quietly:</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I have overtired myself a little lately. But it was quite +unavoidable."</p> + +<p>"I see." Something about this speech puzzled Anstice, and for a moment +he was rather at a loss to know what to say in reply.</p> + +<p>She did not wait for him, however.</p> + +<p>"Do you think I shall faint again? These faints are so +unpleasant—really I don't think"—she paused, and when she resumed her +voice sounded still deeper, with a true contralto note—"I don't think +even death itself can be much more horrible. The sensation of falling, +of sinking through the earth——"</p> + +<p>She broke off, and he hastened to reply.</p> + +<p>"I don't think you need anticipate any further trouble to-night. I +suppose you have had your heart sounded?"</p> + +<p>Again she smiled; and once more he could have sworn there was mockery in +her smile.</p> + +<p>"Yes. But I don't think my heart is wrong. It—it is due to other +causes——"</p> + +<p>She stopped abruptly as the door opened, and the woman came in, carrying +the hot-water bottle for which she had been sent.</p> + +<p>"That you, Tochatti?" She seemed to welcome the interruption. "Thank you +so much." She let the servant fuss over her for a moment, then turned to +Anstice. "You see," she said, "I am well looked after."</p> + +<p>"I am glad you are," he rejoined promptly. "You know you are really in +need of a little care at present. If you will allow me, I should like to +sound your heart myself."</p> + +<p>She acquiesced rather wearily; and having satisfied himself that the +state in which he found her was due rather to weakness than to any +specific disease, he turned to the strangely named woman, whom he now +guessed to be a foreigner, and gave her a few directions for the night.</p> + +<p>"I'll see to it, sir," she said quietly; and Anstice knew his orders +would be faithfully carried out.</p> + +<p>"Well, I can't do you any good by staying," he said, bending over the +bed and holding out his hand. "But send for me if you want me, won't +you? And I'll look in to-morrow to see how you are."</p> + +<p>"One moment." Her hand in his felt strangely alive in spite of her +recent unconsciousness. "Put on a little more light, please, Tochatti. I +should like to see"—she spoke without any embarrassment—"to what sort +of person I am indebted this evening."</p> + +<p>When, the next instant, the room was flooded with light, Anstice had no +scruples in looking at his patient with an interest which, though less +openly expressed, was quite as strong as that with which she evidently +intended to scrutinize him.</p> + +<p>The first thing he noticed was that Mrs. Carstairs was young—probably +not more than twenty-five. The next, that she looked as though she had +recently gone through some nerve-racking experience; and the last, which +came upon him with a shock of unjustifiable surprise, that she was more +than commonly good-looking.</p> + +<p>Her features, as he saw for the first time, were classical in outline, +and the silky black hair which lay in heavy waves on her forehead shaded +a brow which in contour was almost purely Greek. Her skin was of so thin +and transparent a whiteness that her black eyebrows traced two inky +lines across her face; and the almond shape of her sapphire blue eyes +gave them a somewhat Oriental look, in spite of their eminently Western +colouring.</p> + +<p>When, in response to his stare, she vouchsafed a faint smile, he saw +that the mouth which was sad in repose was fascinating when she smiled; +and the white teeth which the smile displayed were perfect in shape and +colour.</p> + +<p>"Well?" Her deep voice took him so much aback that he absolutely +started. "You've seen me—haggard wreck that I am—and I've seen you. So +now we may consider our acquaintance inaugurated and say good-night."</p> + +<p>"Certainly." He looked at her closely; and noted her extreme pallor. "I +hope you will sleep—you look shockingly tired."</p> + +<p>"I told you I was a wreck," she said, still with that inscrutable smile. +"But if you will take me in hand I have no doubt I shall soon recover my +ordinary rude health."</p> + +<p>"I hope so." His tone was absent—he was wondering whether he had ever +seen this woman before; and coming, finally, to the conclusion that he +had not. "Well, I will leave you now, and hope to find you a great deal +better in the morning."</p> + +<p>"Thanks." She spoke wearily. "I'm sorry to have troubled you. +Good-night."</p> + +<p>In the hall the manservant waited, and Anstice, pitying his evident +anxiety, spoke reassuringly to him as he took his coat. "Your mistress +is much better now—with a little care she will soon be all right, I +hope."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir." The man's voice quivered with feeling. "We—we are all +very anxious when our lady is not well."</p> + +<p>"Of course." Anstice took the hat the servant held and moved to the +door. "Is that nine striking? I didn't know it was so late."</p> + +<p>Yet in spite of the lateness of the hour Anstice did not drive home at a +particularly rapid pace. Something in the episode just closed had +intrigued him, piqued his curiosity as well as stimulated his interest; +and he was wondering, as he drove, what there was about his patient +which suggested a mystery—something, at least, unusual unexpected, in +her character or surroundings.</p> + +<p>"She's uncommonly handsome—but so are heaps of women. Nice house, +plenty of money, I should say, and of course she herself is well bred. +Yet there is something odd about her—about her manner, rather. Looks at +one queerly—almost quizzically—and yet when she smiled she looked +extraordinarily sad." He turned a corner rather carelessly and a +surprised motor-cyclist sounded his horn reproachfully. "I wonder—is +she a widow? There was no sign of a husband, though I believe the +servant said something about a child. Anyhow"—he had reached his own +house now and slowed down before the gate—"I will see her to-morrow and +perhaps learn a little more about her—if there is anything to learn. If +not—well, women love to appear mysterious. There never was a woman yet +who didn't long to rival the Sphinx and appear an enigma in the eyes of +wondering men!"</p> + +<p>And he went in to his belated dinner with a rather cynical smile on his +lips.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + + +<p>Just as Anstice was starting out next morning an urgent telephone +message came through, requesting his help at a suddenly imperative +operation at a country house some miles distant.</p> + +<p>Although he had been in the district only a few months, Anstice was +already known to his professional brothers as a daring and skilful +surgeon; and one man—the one who now called upon his services—was in +the habit of wondering openly why so brilliant a man was content to bury +himself in the country instead of seeking fame and fortune in some one +of the big cities of the world.</p> + +<p>There were those who could have given a very good guess at the reasons +which led Anstice to shun notoriety and welcome the obscurity of +Littlefield; but in the meantime Dr. Willows was left to wonder in vain; +though his wonder was leavened with a genuine admiration for his +colleague's skill, and a fervent gratitude for the other man's +unwearying willingness to give his aid.</p> + +<p>On receiving the message Anstice frowned.</p> + +<p>"That you, Willows? Is it an urgent case? Oh—of course I'll come ... I +must make a few arrangements first ... yes ... yes ... I'll be with you +in half an hour, if that will do."</p> + +<p>He hung up the receiver, and now his manner was alert and keen. There +was about him none of the weariness, the indifference which too often +characterized his demeanour, and led some of his patients to complain +that he took no interest in them or in their sufferings. This was the +man who before that fatal day in India had stood, so it was whispered, +upon the threshold of a brilliant career—the man who, young, +resourceful, scientific, had taken a very real and deep interest in +every detail of his profession, and had led even the most cautious of +his teachers to prophesy for him a life of unvarying success.</p> + +<p>He even looked younger as he consulted his notebook this morning; and +the shoulders which had begun to stoop ever so little were squared, the +head held erect as he scanned the pages before him with quick, resolute +eyes.</p> + +<p>Luckily there was nothing very important on the morning list, no visits +that could not be safely postponed till the afternoon; and one or two +telephone messages soon put things straight and left him free to keep +his appointment with Dr. Willows.</p> + +<p>He had a moment's indecision over the case of his new patient at Cherry +Orchard, but reflecting that if necessary they would probably ring him +up, he judged it safe to put off his visit to Mrs. Carstairs till his +return; and finally went out to his motor with an easy mind.</p> + +<p>Returning home, fatigued but jubilant, at two o'clock, he applied +himself to his lunch; and then attacked his afternoon's work with an +energy engendered by the excellent results of the operation which he, in +company with his friend, had performed that morning.</p> + +<p>Being delayed on various pretexts, it was five o'clock before he found +himself at the pretty house in its fragrant garden; and he rang the bell +rather hastily, with an absurd feeling that the servants would look +reproachfully on his tardy arrival.</p> + +<p>The man seemed, however, to welcome him as he had done the previous +night; and when, a second later, the queerly named Tochatti arrived, her +face wrinkled into a discreet smile.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carstairs up to-day?"</p> + +<p>"She is in her room, sir. Will you come up, if you please?"</p> + +<p>He followed her up the broad, shallow stairs, which this afternoon she +took at a more moderate pace; and then she ushered him into the room he +had visited before, falling back so that he went in alone.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carstairs was lying on a deep couch by one of the open windows, her +white gown set off by vivid blue cushions; and as he advanced Anstice +noticed that she looked even younger than he had judged her on the +preceding night. Her air of utter exhaustion had vanished; and there was +more colour in her lips, though her cheeks still retained their ivory +transparency.</p> + +<p>By her side was a little table bearing a tea-tray, and as Anstice shook +hands, congratulating her at the same time on her restored appearance, +she drew his attention to the teacups.</p> + +<p>"I was just going to have some tea. Be nice and have some with me. Will +you?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks very much." He accepted promptly. "I've been busy all day and +should enjoy a cup of tea. But first—are you really better this +afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, really." She spoke indifferently, as though the subject failed to +interest her. "I should have gone out, I daresay, but I felt tired, or +lazy, and succumbed to the charms of this delightful couch."</p> + +<p>"You did quite right." He took the cup she held out to him and sat down +in a chair beside the deep Chesterfield. "You know I think you must make +up your mind to take care of yourself for a week or two."</p> + +<p>"I can quite easily do that," Chloe Carstairs answered quietly. "I +hardly think I shall find it difficult to do what the new-woman novels +used to call 'living one's own life'—down here."</p> + +<p>"Certainly there isn't much going on." Anstice was puzzled by her +manner. "Do I understand that you 'belong' here, as the country folks +say?"</p> + +<p>She put down her cup rather suddenly, and faced him squarely, her blue +eyes full of a resolution which added several years to her age.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice." Her deep voice had lost its richness and sounded hard. "I +should like to tell you something of myself. Oh"—she laughed rather +cynically—"I'm not going to bore you with a rhapsody intended to convey +to you that I am a much misunderstood woman and all the rest of it. +Only, if you are to see me again, I think I should like you to know just +who and what I am."</p> + +<p>Mystified, Anstice bowed.</p> + +<p>"Whatever you tell me I shall be proud to hear—and keep to myself," he +said.</p> + +<p>"Thanks." Her manner had lost its slight animation and was once more +weary, indifferent. "Well, first of all, have you ever seen me before?"</p> + +<p>"No. Though I confess that something in your face seemed familiar to me +last night."</p> + +<p>"Oh." She did not seem much impressed. "Well, to put it differently, +have you ever heard of me?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Anstice. "To the best of my belief I have never heard your +name before."</p> + +<p>"I see. Well, I will tell you who I am, and what I am supposed to have +done." No further warmth enlivened her manner, which throughout was +cold, almost, one would have said, absent. "When I was eighteen I +married Major Carstairs, a soldier a good many years older than myself. +Presently I went out to India with him, and lived there for four years, +coming home when our child was three years old."</p> + +<p>She paused.</p> + +<p>"I came here—this was my husband's old home—and settled down with +Cherry. And when I had been in the parish a year or so, there was a +scandal in Littlefield."</p> + +<p>She stopped, and her mouth quivered into a faint smile.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I was not the chief character—at first! It was a case in which the +Vicar's wife won an unenviable notoriety. It seemed there had been a +secret in her life, years before when she was a pretty, silly girl, +which was known to very few besides her husband and, I presume, her own +people. Now you would not think I was a sympathetic person—one in whom +a sentimental, rather neurotic woman would confide. Would you?"</p> + +<p>And looking at her, with her air of cold indifference, of complete +detachment from the world around her, Anstice agreed that he would not +expect her to be the confidante of such a woman.</p> + +<p>"Yet within a month of our meeting Laura Ogden had confided her secret +to me—and a silly, futile story it was." Her pale face looked disdain +at the remembrance. "No harm, of course, was done. I kept her secret and +advised her not to repeat what she had told me to anyone else in +Littlefield."</p> + +<p>"She followed your advice?" Anstice had no idea what was coming, but an +interest to which he had long been a stranger was waking slowly in his +heart.</p> + +<p>"<i>Chi lo so?</i>" She shrugged her shoulders. "Afterwards she swore she had +told no one but me. You see it appeared she very soon regretted having +given me her confidence. It happened that shortly after she had told me +her story we had—not a quarrel, because to tell you the truth I wasn't +sufficiently interested in her to quarrel with her—but there was a +slight coolness between us, and for some time we were not on good terms. +Then—well, to cut a long story short, one day anonymous letters and +post cards began to fly about the parish, bearing scurrilous comments on +that unhappy woman's past history. At first the Vicar tried to hush up +the matter, but as you may imagine"—her voice rang with delicate +scorn—"everyone else thoroughly enjoyed talking things over and +wondering and discussing—with the result that the Bishop of the Diocese +heard the tale and came down to hold a private inquiry into the matter."</p> + +<p>She stopped short and held out her hand for his cup.</p> + +<p>"More tea? I haven't finished yet."</p> + +<p>"No more, thank you." He rose, placed his cup on the tray and sat down +again in silence.</p> + +<p>"The Bishop suggested it was a matter for the police. The writer of +those vile communications must be discovered and punished at all costs, +he said. So not only the authorities but all the amateur detectives of +both sexes in the neighbourhood went to work to find the culprit. And +<i>I</i> was the culprit they found."</p> + +<p>"You?" For once in his life Anstice was startled out of his usual +self-control.</p> + +<p>"Yes. They fixed upon me as the anonymous writer of those loathsome +scrawls; and the district was provided with a sensation after its own +heart."</p> + +<p>"But the idea's absurd—monstrous!" Looking at her as she leaned back +among her cushions, with her air of delicate distinction, Anstice could +hardly believe the story she was telling him.</p> + +<p>"So I thought at first." Her blue eyes narrowed. "But in some marvellous +manner they brought the charge home to me. I was the only one, they +said, who knew the story. I had wormed it out of the silly woman, they +alleged, and had then, owing to the subsequent coolness between us, +traded upon my knowledge in order to drive her out of the place."</p> + +<p>"But others must have known the story?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. But I was the only one in Littlefield who knew it."</p> + +<p>"So they said. But in reality——"</p> + +<p>"In reality, of course, it was known to someone else. But that person +took care to keep in the background. When once I had been suggested as +the culprit a quantity of evidence was forthcoming to clinch the matter, +so to speak. I was never particularly popular here, and people were +quite ready to believe me capable of the deed." She smiled faintly. "I +confess one or two things looked black for me—the letters were written +on the kind of paper I used, and though of course the handwriting was +disguised, there was, in one or two letters, an undeniable similarity to +some of my writing."</p> + +<p>"But your word—wasn't that sufficient?"</p> + +<p>The apathy of her manner relaxed for one moment into a kind of cold +amusement.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I gave my word—at first—quite freely. Knowing nothing of the +letters, of course I said so; but I was not believed. I confess +everything was against me. Most of the letters were posted in the pillar +box not a hundred yards from this house—but on one occasion when I had +gone down to Brighton for a couple of days, one of those vile things +bore the Brighton postmark."</p> + +<p>"But——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I've nearly done." She glanced at the clock. "I am detaining +you—you're in a hurry? Don't mind saying so—this delightful story can +be continued in our next."</p> + +<p>"Please go on." Anstice would not willingly have foregone the rest of +the recital.</p> + +<p>"Well, after various suspicious happenings, which I won't inflict upon +you now, and after being interviewed by the Bishop, by detectives, by a +hundred and one individuals who revelled in the case, I was accused, +tried, and found guilty."</p> + +<p>"Found guilty? Impossible!" He sprang up, quite unable to sit still +another moment. Somehow he had not expected this climax.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I was found guilty." Her voice held little expression. "And +sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment. The judge who sentenced me +informed me—and the world at large—that he deemed it expedient to +'make an example' of me—only he put it more legally—as an educated +young woman, of apparent refinement, who had committed a crime connected +generally with illiterate and ignorant persons of degenerate +tendencies."</p> + +<p>"But you—you never served the sentence—such a vindictive sentence, +too!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did." For the first time her face changed, a hint of tragedy +appeared in her studiously passionless eyes. "You look surprised, but I +assure you it is true. I served my sentence, and came out of prison +exactly eight weeks ago."</p> + +<p>"Eight weeks? But you have only just come here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. First I went down into Kent to stay with an old family friend who +had taken charge of Cherry—my little girl—while I was"—she hesitated, +then spoke with a directness he felt to be brutal—"in prison. I only +came here yesterday, and I suppose the shock of finding myself back in +my happy home"—he was sure she was speaking ironically now—"was too +much for my—nerves."</p> + +<p>"But, Mrs. Carstairs"—he looked down at her with perplexity in his +face—"do I understand you to mean you have deliberately come back to +live in the place which has treated you so shamefully?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" Her long, blue eyes were inscrutable. "I'm not ashamed of +coming back. You see, I really don't care in the very least what these +people say about me. I don't even bear them malice. Prison life is +supposed to make one bitter, isn't it? You hear a lot about the 'prison +taint,' whatever that may be. Well, I don't feel conscious of having +sustained any taint. I have suffered a great wrong"—her contralto voice +was quite unmoved as she made the assertion—"a very grievous injustice +has been done to me; but now that the physical unpleasantness of the +ordeal is over I don't feel as though I—my ego, my soul, if you +like—had undergone any particular degradation."</p> + +<p>"I suppose"—the question was forced from him by his interest in the +human document she was spreading before his eyes—"I suppose what you +call the physical unpleasantness is really hard to bear?"</p> + +<p>He was sorry he had put the question as he saw the slow shudder which +for a moment convulsed her immobility.</p> + +<p>"Yes." For a second her voice was almost passionate. "I don't think I +could make you understand the horror of that side of imprisonment. Most +prison reformers, as I say, prate of the injury done to the soul of the +prisoner. For my part—it if were worth while, which it isn't—I would +always refuse to forgive those enemies who subjected my body to such +indignities."</p> + +<p>Her vehemence, so much at variance with her usual manner, made Anstice +uneasy about her.</p> + +<p>"See here, Mrs. Carstairs." He sat down on the couch beside her, and +spoke persuasively. "You must promise me not to let your mind dwell on +your terrible experience. Honestly, do you think it wise to stay here? +Won't it be painful for you to live among the people who know you? +Wouldn't it be better to go away for a short time, travel a little? +There are plenty of places off the beaten track where you would be able +to rest and get back your health and your spirits."</p> + +<p>She turned to him with a hint of a kindlier manner than she had hitherto +displayed.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice, to tell you the truth I don't want to travel. I shall be +happier here, in my own home, with my old servants round me, able to do +exactly as I choose from morning to night."</p> + +<p>She hesitated a moment; then resumed in her former indifferent tone:</p> + +<p>"You see, my husband, although he refuses to believe in my innocence, +has handed over this house to me; and under my marriage settlement I +have quite a large income——"</p> + +<p>He interrupted her abruptly—</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carstairs, forgive me—did you say your husband refused to believe +you innocent?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. My husband—like the majority of the world—believes me guilty," +said Chloe Carstairs.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + + +<p>The story he had heard on the occasion of his second visit to Cherry +Orchard haunted Anstice for days. There was something so incongruous in +the notion of this woman having served a sentence of imprisonment for an +offence which, of all others, might well be supposed the most impossible +for any decent person to commit; yet Anstice knew instinctively that +Mrs. Carstairs had spoken the truth; and although for the last few years +he had been far too much occupied with his own private grudge against +Fate to spare any pity for the woes of others, he did feel a surprising +sympathy for the young and apparently lonely woman whom the world had +treated so cruelly.</p> + +<p>That she was innocent of the crime with which she was charged, Anstice +never doubted. Since the catastrophe which had altered his whole outlook +on life, he had been inclined to be cynical regarding the good faith of +mankind in general; but Mrs. Carstairs' manner had carried conviction by +its very lack of emphasis. She had not protested her innocence—indeed, +he could barely remember in what words she had given him to understand +that she was not guilty of the loathsome deed; yet her very quietness, +the very indifference of her manner as she told her story carried more +weight than an avalanche of protestation would have done.</p> + +<p>As a medical man Anstice was something of a student of physiognomy; and +although Mrs. Carstairs' face was not one to be easily read, the shape +of her brow and the classical outline of her features seemed to Anstice +to preclude any possibility of the morbid and degenerate taint which +must have inspired the communications of whose authorship she had been +accused.</p> + +<p>The very fact that she did not appear to care whether or no he believed +in her strengthened Anstice's belief that she was an innocent and +much-wronged woman; and in his mind he linked her with himself as one of +the victims of an unfavourable and ruthless destiny.</p> + +<p>After attending her for a week Anstice declared her to be in no further +need of his services; and she acquiesced with the same air of half-weary +graciousness with which she had welcomed his visits.</p> + +<p>He noticed that she was rarely to be seen in the village or small town +of Littlefield. Occasionally she would pass him on the road in a +beautiful motor with which he supposed her husband to have endowed her, +and at these times she had generally her small daughter, wrapped in +furs, on the seat beside her.</p> + +<p>Anstice's introduction to the latter took place about a fortnight after +his last visit to Cherry Orchard in a professional capacity. It chanced +that he was interested in a small Convalescent Home for Children which +had recently been opened in the neighbourhood, and on one or two days +had cut short his visit to Mrs. Carstairs on the grounds that his +presence was required at the Home. Rather to his disappointment Mrs. +Carstairs had not evinced the slightest interest in the scheme, and his +surprise was proportionately great when, on one fine spring morning, he +received a large bunch of beautiful daffodils from Cherry Orchard, with +a rather carelessly worded request that he would give them to the Home +if they were likely to be welcome there.</p> + +<p>Anstice took the flowers with him on his morning visit, and the pleasure +they gave and the gratitude with which they were received led him to +snatch a moment on his way home to call upon the donor and thank her in +person for her kindly gift.</p> + +<p>As he turned his car in at the gate he hoard sounds of laughter, and a +few words in a child's high-pitched voice; and when he was half-way up +the drive he discovered from whence the merriment issued.</p> + +<p>Just ahead of him was a motor-cycle, driven, it would appear, by a girl +in a trim motoring-suit, while perched on the carrier at the back, in a +fashion which made Anstice's blood run chill, was a small child whom he +recognized as the daughter of the house, Cherry Carstairs, aged +something less than six years.</p> + +<p>The two were chattering and laughing, the driver sounding her horn in a +delightfully irresponsible fashion, and both were much too intent on +their progress and on the noise they were making to realize that a car +was coming up the drive immediately behind them.</p> + +<p>Instinctively Anstice slowed up, wishing the lively pair at Jericho; but +luckily they had nearly reached the front door, and in another minute +the motor-cycle had come to a standstill and the riders dismounted in +safety.</p> + +<p>"There—we've not come to grief, this time, have we, Cherry Ripe!" The +elder girl spoke gaily. "And now we'll see what Mother has to say—oh!"</p> + +<p>At that moment she beheld the car, which was coming to a standstill, and +she looked at the man who drove it with a frankness which was curiously +unselfconscious. At the same minute Mrs. Carstairs came slowly forward +onto the steps, and Anstice, dismounting, approached her without doing +more than glance at the girl-motorist.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Mrs. Carstairs. I have come to thank you for your lovely +flowers." They shook hands as he spoke. "The Matron at the Home made me +promise to come and convey her thanks to you at the first possible +moment. That's my excuse for calling now!"</p> + +<p>He had spoken more impulsively than usual, with a genuine desire to show +his gratitude for her kindness; but there was no answering warmth in her +voice, and, not for the first time, he felt chilled by her lack of +response.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad they liked them." Her tone was perfunctory. "But I'm afraid +the gratitude is not due to me. It was my small daughter who was fired +to enthusiasm by something Tochatti told her, and insisted on cutting +the daffodils herself."</p> + +<p>"I see." In spite of himself Anstice felt repulsed by her manner, which, +made his warmly spoken gratitude appear superfluous. "Well, in any case +the result is the same—delight in the wards and something beautiful and +fragrant to lighten the children's sufferings."</p> + +<p>"Pray tell Cherry—she will be pleased." Possibly Mrs. Carstairs had +noted the stiffness of his speech, and in her languid way desired to +soothe his feelings. "I forget if you have seen my little daughter. I +must introduce you to her—and——" she turned to the young girl who +stood by and laid a hand on her arm—"to her friend—and mine."</p> + +<p>Anstice glanced towards the two who still stood, hand-in-hand, on the +top step, and Mrs. Carstairs performed the ceremony of introduction in +the deep, rich voice which was somehow part of her personality.</p> + +<p>"Iris, let me introduce Dr. Anstice ... Miss Wayne."</p> + +<p>Anstice bowed, but the girl held out her hand with a youthful +friendliness which was attractive.</p> + +<p>"How d'you do? I'm glad I didn't know your car was behind me as we came +up the avenue. I don't mind what I meet, but I always hate things coming +up behind my cycle," she said pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"If you are in the habit of giving such youthful passengers rides I +don't wonder you're nervous," he replied; and the girl opened her grey +eyes widely.</p> + +<p>"Nervous! I'm not!" She spoke indignantly. "But when your allowance is +strictly limited, and you have to pay for repairs yourself, you don't +want people running into you from the back and perhaps smashing up your +pet Douglas!"</p> + +<p>"I see." He smiled discreetly, and Mrs. Carstairs claimed his attention +once more.</p> + +<p>"And this"—she drew the child forward—"is Cherry."</p> + +<p>"How are you?" Anstice, who was always polite to children, shook hands, +and the child looked at him with a pair of very clear brown eyes.</p> + +<p>"Quite well, thank you, my dear," she responded gravely, and Iris Wayne +was secretly much diverted by the expression of astonishment which this +form of address evoked in the face of the hearer.</p> + +<p>"You like motoring?" Anstice felt constrained to keep up the +conversation, and Cherry nodded calmly.</p> + +<p>"Very much, my dear. Do you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes...." Anstice experienced an overwhelming desire to repeat her +endearing term, but luckily refrained. "This is my car—will you come +for a ride with me one day?"</p> + +<p>For a second Cherry regarded him with a pensive courtesy which was +almost embarrassing. Then:</p> + +<p>"With pleasure, my dear," she replied, and Iris laughed outright.</p> + +<p>"You fickle child! And you have always declared you liked my motor +better than any car that ever was seen!"</p> + +<p>"So I do." Cherry looked up at her with unsmiling gravity. "But——"</p> + +<p>"But now you must all come in and have lunch." Mrs. Carstairs turned to +Anstice. "Dr. Anstice, you can spare us a little time, can't you? Lunch +is quite ready, and Cherry, I'm sure, endorses my invitation!"</p> + +<p>He hesitated, torn between a desire to accept and an uncomfortable +suspicion that he could not afford the time.</p> + +<p>"You will have to lunch somewhere, you know!" Her manner was a trifle +warmer than usual. "And it will really save time to do it here!"</p> + +<p>"My lunch is a very hurried affair as a rule," he said, smiling. "But if +I may run away as soon as I've finished I'll be delighted to stay."</p> + +<p>He felt a small hand slip into his as he spoke, and looked down, to meet +Cherry's clear eyes.</p> + +<p>"Do stay, my dear!" Her tone was a quaint imitation of her mother's, and +before the twofold invitation Anstice's scruples were put to flight.</p> + +<p>"I'll stay with pleasure," he said, patting the kind little hand; and +with an air of satisfaction Cherry led him into the hall, her mother and +Miss Wayne following their lead.</p> + +<p>Once seated at the pretty round table, sweet with the fragrance of +hyacinths in a big Swansea bowl, and bright with silver and glass, +Anstice owned inwardly to a feeling of pleasure at his position. +Although as a rule he loved his solitude, welcomed the silence of the +old panelled house he had taken in Littlefield, and shunned those of his +kind who had no direct need of his services, there were times when his +self-sought loneliness weighed heavily upon his spirit, when the ghosts +of the past, whose shrouded forms were ever present to remind him that +he had made a fatal mistake on that bygone morning in India, were but +poor company.</p> + +<p>At first, during that first haunted year, when Hilda Ryder's face was +ever before his eyes, her sad and tender accents in his ear, he had +sought many and dubious ways of laying those same ghosts. It had seemed +to him, during those dreadful days, that although some instinct within +him forbade him to end his own life, none could doubt his right to +alleviate his mental suffering by any means he knew; and when temporary +oblivion, a blessed forgetfulness, could be purchased at the price of a +pinprick, it seemed not only overscrupulous but foolish to forgo that +Nirvana.</p> + +<p>But that indulgence, too, had nearly ended in disaster; and for the last +two years his only use for the alluring drug had been to alleviate the +pain of others. Yet the struggle was a hard one; and he wondered +sometimes, rather hopelessly, if he would have the strength to continue +it to the bitter end.</p> + +<p>But to-day, sitting in the pretty room, with the sun pouring in through +the casement windows, widely opened to the green garden beyond, Anstice +owned that for once life seemed to be in harmony with the beautiful +spring world around.</p> + +<p>As for Iris Wayne, he told himself presently that he had rarely seen a +prettier girl! Although at present his admiration was quite impersonal, +it was none the less sincere; and his approval of her grey eyes, set +widely apart beneath her crown of sunny hair, of the delicately rounded +face, the frank mouth, which disclosed teeth as white as milk, was +enhanced by the fact that every line, every tint spoke of flawless +health and a mind attuned to the simple, gracious things of life rather +than those which are complex and hard to comprehend.</p> + +<p>Looking from Iris, bright-eyed and alert, to Chloe, sitting at the head +of her table in a white cloth gown which somehow looked elaborate in +spite of its utter simplicity, Anstice was struck by the contrast +between them. Although the difference in their actual ages was not +great, they might well have been at different stages of life. For all +her youth, all her grace, her black and white distinction, Chloe was a +woman, and no one looking at her would have doubted that to her had come +some of the most vital moments of a woman's life. But Iris Wayne was +only a girl, an untried warrior in the battle of existence. The glance +of her large and radiant eyes was far more akin to that of the child +Cherry's brown orbs than to the serious, rather cynical regard which +habitually dwelt in Mrs. Carstairs' sapphire-blue eyes; and in every +look, every word, was the delicious freshness of a joyous youth. Yet he +fancied there was something in the curve of her lips, in the shape of +her head, which betokened strength of character as well as lightness of +heart. He fancied that her mouth could be tender as well as gay, that +her eyes might one day look into the eyes of a man with a promise in +their depths of strong and steadfast womanhood.</p> + +<p>It chanced presently that Anstice was offered some strawberries, +floating in a delicious-looking syrup; and a glance at his hostess +betrayed his half-humorous perplexity.</p> + +<p>"I know it isn't the right season for strawberries," said Mrs. Carstairs +with a smile. "But these are some of our own, bottled by a famous method +of Tochatti's. Do try them and give us your opinion."</p> + +<p>Anstice complied; and found them excellent.</p> + +<p>"They are delicious," he said, "and bring summer very close. Don't you +like them?" he asked Cherry, who was demurely nibbling a macaroon.</p> + +<p>"No thank you, my dear," replied Cherry gravely. "They give me a pain in +my head."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do they?" Anstice was nonplussed by this extraordinary assertion, +the grounds for which were not borne out by such medical skill as he +possessed; but chancing to look across the table at Iris Wayne he found +her dimpling deliciously at his perplexity.</p> + +<p>"You look puzzled, Dr. Anstice!" She laughed outright. "You see you +don't understand how it happens that a pain in the head is connected +with strawberries!"</p> + +<p>"I don't," he said, "but if you will kindly explain——"</p> + +<p>"May I, Cherry?" She looked at the child with a mischievous sparkle in +her eyes, and Cherry nodded.</p> + +<p>"If you like, my dear. But <i>I</i> think it's rather a silly story."</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding this expression of opinion Iris entered forthwith into +an explanation.</p> + +<p>"You see, Dr. Anstice, Cherry came to stay with me last summer when the +strawberries were ripe; and seeing the bed covered with netting—to keep +off the birds"—she smiled—"she thought it very hard that the poor +little things should not have their share."</p> + +<p>"You had heaps and heaps for yourself," came a reproachful voice from +the bottom of the table where Cherry sat in state.</p> + +<p>"Certainly—until you came on the scene, Cherry Ripe! Well, Dr. Anstice, +to cut a long story short, Cherry thought us so selfish and cruel to +prevent the poor birds sharing our fruit that she slipped into the +kitchen garden one very hot morning, and devoted a good hour to taking +up the netting—with the result that the stooping down with the sun +beating on her head gave her a touch of sunstroke."</p> + +<p>"You forget I had eaten a few strawberries—just to encourage the +birdies." Evidently Cherry liked accuracy in any statement, even when it +militated against herself.</p> + +<p>"Well, whether it was the sun or the strawberries, the fact remains +Cherry was in bed for three days, and since then strawberries are +<i>tabu</i>. Isn't it so, Mrs. Carstairs?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Iris." Chloe's voice was more weary than usual, as though the +subject did not interest her; and suddenly Anstice remembered that +during the previous summer she had been shut away from the beautiful +world of sun and strawberries and roses red and white....</p> + +<p>A moment later Chloe rose from the table; and Anstice stole a look at +his watch as they passed into the hall.</p> + +<p>As though she divined his action Chloe turned to him.</p> + +<p>"You will spare time for a cup of coffee? We have not lingered over our +lunch."</p> + +<p>Anstice hesitated, and Cherry again added her entreaties to the +invitation.</p> + +<p>"Do stay a little longer, my dear. Iris will have to go in a minute, but +I want her to sing me a song first."</p> + +<p>"Do you sing, Miss Wayne?" Looking at her firm round throat and deep +chest he thought it possible she sang well.</p> + +<p>"Yes." She shook her head at Cherry. "But how can I sing after meringues +and strawberries, you bad child?"</p> + +<p>"You always say that," returned Cherry placidly. "And then you sing most +bee-autifully!"</p> + +<p>Iris coloured at this obviously genuine compliment and Anstice laughed +outright.</p> + +<p>"After that testimonial, Miss Wayne, I hope you don't expect me to run +away without hearing you!" He turned to his hostess. "I will stay for a +cup of coffee with pleasure, Mrs. Carstairs, and you will persuade Miss +Wayne to sing, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly." They were in the cool, hyacinth-scented drawing-room by +now, and Chloe drew the girl towards the grand piano which stood by one +of the big latticed windows. "Sing to us at once, Iris, before you have +your coffee. Will you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I will." She seated herself as she spoke. "What shall it be? +Cherry, you know all my songs. What do you want to-day?"</p> + +<p>After due consideration Cherry gave her verdict for "the song about the +lady in the wood;" and although both Mrs. Carstairs and Iris rallied her +on the mournfulness of her choice, Cherry stuck to her guns; and to +judge from the rapt expression in her big brown eyes as the singer +prophesied the lonely and tragic fate of poor unhappy Mélisande, the +idea of that fate proved exquisitely soothing to the youthful listener.</p> + +<p>Anstice's supposition had been correct. Iris Wayne could sing well. Her +voice, a clear mezzo-soprano, had been excellently trained, and in its +purity and flexibility gave promise of something exceptional when it +should have attained its full maturity. She accompanied herself +perfectly, in nowise hampered by the lack of any music; and when she had +brought the song to a close, Anstice was sincere in his request for +another.</p> + +<p>"I've just got some new songs," said Iris, twisting round on the stool +to face her hostess. "A book of Indian love-lyrics. Shall I sing you one +of those?"</p> + +<p>And without waiting for an answer she turned back and began to play an +accompaniment which subtly suggested the atmosphere of the East, +accentuated by the sound of the bells of some wayside Temple pealing +through the dusty, sun-baked land.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The Temple bells are ringing——"</p></div> + +<p>With the first line of the song Anstice was back in the hideous past, +back in the fatal Temple which had proved the antechamber to the halls +of Death ... he heard again the chatter of native voices, smelt the odd, +indescribable perfume of the East, felt the dread, the impotent horror +of that bygone adventure in the ruined Temple of Alostan....</p> + +<p>The drawing-room in which he sat, bright with chintz, sweet with the +fragrance of hyacinths, faded away; and he saw again the dimly lighted +hut in which he and Hilda Ryder had spent that last dreadful night. He +heard her voice imploring him to kill her before the men should rush in +upon them, saw the anguish in her eyes as she understood that no help +was forthcoming from the world without; and he knew again the great and +unavailing remorse which had filled his soul when he realized that Hilda +Ryder had died too soon....</p> + +<p>When the song ended he rose abruptly, and Chloe was startled by the +change in his manner.</p> + +<p>"I must really say good-bye, Mrs. Carstairs." He had not touched his +coffee. "Many thanks for your hospitality." He shook hands with her and +turned to Iris with something of an effort. "And many thanks for your +songs, Miss Wayne." He tried to smile as they exchanged a handshake, but +the attempt was a failure.</p> + +<p>"I'll come to the steps with you, my dear," volunteered Cherry politely, +and without further leave-taking Anstice went out into the hall, seized +his hat, and stumbled towards the door, half-blinded by the pain of that +terribly acute inward vision.</p> + +<p>He took leave of Cherry with a hasty courtesy which would have hurt some +children, but was not displeasing to the stately Cherry; and three +minutes later he was driving down the avenue at a furious pace, in a +vain endeavour to outstrip the phantoms which a girl's careless song had +evoked from their place in the background of his thoughts.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>After his abrupt departure Iris turned impulsively to her hostess.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carstairs"—her voice was disturbed—"what was wrong with Dr. +Anstice just now? Did my singing displease him? He got up and went +so—so unexpectedly."</p> + +<p>For a moment Chloe said nothing. Then:</p> + +<p>"Don't you think you are rather too imaginative, Iris? Probably Dr. +Anstice remembered some urgent case, and thought he ought to go at +once."</p> + +<p>"No. I don't think that was it." Iris sank down on to the cushioned +window-seat and gazed thoughtfully ahead. "I think——I wonder if that +last song could have any associations for him? Has he been in India?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know." Chloe smiled faintly. "You must ask him, Iris. I suppose +your father would send for him if he were ill, wouldn't he, now that Dr. +Meade is really gone?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so." Iris spoke rather dreamily. "At first I thought he was +quite old—at least forty," said the schoolgirl. "And then, when he +talked to Cherry I was not really sure. I guessed he might be worried +about professional things and look older than he was. And now——"</p> + +<p>She broke off, and for a moment Chloe Carstairs made no rejoinder, +though her blue, almond-shaped eyes held a slightly quizzical +expression.</p> + +<p>"And now"—she said at length—"what is your opinion now?"</p> + +<p>"Now"—Iris spoke very slowly, and in her eyes was something of the +womanly tenderness and strength whose possibility Anstice had +divined—"I think he has the very saddest face I have ever seen in my +life."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + + +<p>Anstice was destined to renew his acquaintance with Iris Wayne sooner +than he had anticipated.</p> + +<p>On the Sunday afternoon following the little luncheon party at Cherry +Orchard, he was tramping, pipe in mouth, over the golf-links when he saw +her ahead of him, in company with an elderly gentleman whom he guessed +must be her father.</p> + +<p>She had just holed her ball by a deft stroke, and as he approached +Anstice heard her utter an exultant exclamation.</p> + +<p>"Very good, my dear." Her companion patted her arm. "A little more care +and you will make quite a fair player."</p> + +<p>"Fair player indeed!" Iris tossed her curly head disdainfully. "I'd have +you know I can beat <i>you</i> anyway, Daddy!"</p> + +<p>As she spoke she recognized the approaching figure and her frank smile +flashed out.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice—are you playing too?"</p> + +<p>"No, Miss Wayne." He advanced and shook hands. "I'm taking my Sunday +afternoon tramp. It's the only chance I get of walking in the week."</p> + +<p>"Daddy, this is Dr. Anstice." Iris turned to the elderly man. "My +father," she explained casually to Anstice, and Sir Richard Wayne held +out his hand with a smile.</p> + +<p>"You're not a golfer, Dr. Anstice?" Sir Richard was keen on the game.</p> + +<p>"No, sir. I used to be a footballer in my hospital days, but"—for a +second he hesitated—"I have had no time lately for any kind of +game——"</p> + +<p>"Well, golf's a grand game for an old buffer like me"—Sir Richard was a +hale and well-set-up man who could afford to make such speeches—"but I +daresay you younger men like something a bit more strenuous. My daughter +here only plays with me now and then as a concession—she prefers +tennis, or flying about on that precious motor-cycle of hers."</p> + +<p>"Well, judging from what I have seen of Miss Wayne's riding I should say +she is a very expert motor-cyclist," said Anstice; and Sir Richard +nodded.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she rides all right," he owned, "and she bothered me to such an +extent that I simply had to give in to her. But it wasn't until she had +been 'run in' for exceeding the speed limit in one of my cars and I'd +had to sentence her from the Bench in my magisterial capacity that I did +give in and buy her a Douglas."</p> + +<p>"He fined me twenty shillings and costs!" Iris spoke with mock +indignation. "How's that for meanness to your only daughter?"</p> + +<p>"And paid the fine out of my own pocket—don't forget that!" Sir Richard +chuckled. "Well, Dr. Anstice, if you're not in a hurry, walk round with +us, will you? You aren't busy on a Sunday afternoon, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Well, not very." In spite of himself Anstice felt a strange reluctance +to part from his new friends. "I was going for a walk, as you see, and +if I may come with you——"</p> + +<p>So it fell out that for the first Sunday since he had arrived in +Littlefield Anstice's walk was no solitary stroll, companioned only by +his own moody or rebellious thoughts, but a pleasant interlude in a life +which in spite of incessant and often engrossing work, was on the whole +a joyless one.</p> + +<p>This afternoon Iris Wayne looked little more than a schoolgirl in her +short skirt and brightly coloured jersey, a cap pulled well down over +her curls, which nevertheless rioted over her forehead in entrancing +confusion. It was very evident that she and her father were on the best +of terms; and if, as seemed probable, Sir Richard was proud of his +pretty daughter, it was no less certain that she, on her side, thought +her father the most wonderful of men.</p> + +<p>The trio chatted pleasantly as they crossed the sunny golf links, and +Sir Richard told himself that his impressions of this man, gathered from +hasty visions of him about the village, or from the chatter of the +countryside, impressions which had labelled him as a morose, sullen kind +of fellow, had certainly been fallacious.</p> + +<p>Reserved he might be; but although his manner was quiet and his smile a +trifle sad, there was nothing morose about him to-day; and if his +conversation was not particularly brilliant Sir Richard thought none the +worse of him for that.</p> + +<p>So pleased, indeed, was he with his new acquaintance that when they +reached the Club House on the return journey he pressed the young man to +accompany them home for a cup of tea.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure your patients must cease from troubling on a Sunday afternoon +at any rate," he said genially, "and you haven't anyone waiting for you +at home, have you?"</p> + +<p>With a rather melancholy smile Anstice admitted that there was no one +waiting for him at home; and since Iris seconded her father's invitation +with a kind little entreaty on her own account, he accepted their joint +hospitality without further demur.</p> + +<p>Greengates, the home of the Waynes, was a stately old house, more +dignified, though perhaps less charming, than the fascinating Cherry +Orchard; but its very dignity gave charm; and it formed a by no means +incongruous background for this youngest and prettiest of its daughters. +For all her youth and high spirits, Iris seemed to fit into the place as +one born to it; and when she tossed aside her cap and sat down behind +the massive silver tea-tray, her gold-brown curls shone against the oak +panelling of the walls as the wild daffodils gleam golden against the +massive brown trunks of the trees in whose shade they grow.</p> + +<p>Lady Wayne had been dead for many years; and although Anstice gathered, +from casual conversation between father and daughter, that a certain +Aunt Laura made her home with them as a rule, it appeared that she was +at present travelling in Switzerland, leaving Iris mistress of +Greengates in her absence.</p> + +<p>"I confess Iris and I rather enjoy a week or two to ourselves!" Sir +Richard's eyes twinkled. "My sister is a thoroughly good sort, but she +loves to manage people; and Iris and I are both of us constitutionally +averse to being managed!"</p> + +<p>"I manage Daddy without him knowing it," said Iris loftily; and Anstice +could not refrain from an impulse to tease her a little.</p> + +<p>"That is very clever of you, Miss Wayne," he said gravely, "and I'm sure +your management must be most tactful. But—if you'll excuse me +suggesting it—wouldn't it be cleverer still of you if you refrained +from hinting as much to your father?"</p> + +<p>"You mean the really clever women never let the men know they're doing +it?" Her grey eyes laughed into his. "You are quite right, of +course—but then I don't pretend to be clever. I don't think clever +people—clever women, anyway—are ever happy."</p> + +<p>"Don't you?" Somehow Anstice felt extraordinarily interested in the +views of this very youthful woman. "May I be allowed to know what has +driven you to that conclusion?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's not exactly my own." Iris' eyes were honest as well as gay. +"It was something Mrs. Carstairs said to me one day. <i>She</i> is clever, +you know—but her life has been made very unhappy."</p> + +<p>Anstice, who had already wondered how much of Chloe Carstairs' history +was known to the Waynes, glanced involuntarily at Sir Richard as Iris +spoke the last words; and in the elder man's eyes he thought he saw a +hint of trouble.</p> + +<p>"I should judge Mrs. Carstairs to be a well-read woman," he said, +endeavouring to change the subject while ostensibly pursuing it. "She +has a good many books about her, though of course nothing like your +collection here."</p> + +<p>He glanced at the walls as he spoke, and Sir Richard took up the new +topic easily.</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether you are a reader, Dr. Anstice," he said, "but if +so, and you're short of reading matter, don't hesitate to borrow some of +our books. We've all sorts, eh, Iris?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks very much. I'm not a great reader—haven't time; but your books +look rather alluring," said Anstice, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"We'll have a look round after tea," returned his host. "In the meantime +pass your cup—this weather makes one thirsty."</p> + +<p>After tea he rose and invited the younger man to scrutinize the shelves. +Somewhat to his surprise Anstice found that the Greengates collection of +books was a most comprehensive one, whole sections being devoted to +science, biography, travel and so on; and he was fortunate enough to +discover two recent biological works, which, owing to their somewhat +prohibitive price, he had hitherto been unable to obtain.</p> + +<p>"Like to borrow those tomes?" Sir Richard had noted the expression in +his guest's face as he handled the volumes. "Well, take them, and +anything else you like. No, I confess I don't care much about books +myself. Most of these were my father's choice—he was a bit of a student +in his later years, and my sister likes to keep up with the times and +lets the booksellers send down books as they used to do. But you're +welcome to any of 'em, I assure you."</p> + +<p>He led his guest round the room, pointing out one or two favourites of +his own; and while they were thus engaged, Iris, who had been feeding +three lively Airedales with scraps of cake, came up to Anstice with +outstretched hand.</p> + +<p>"Will you excuse me, Dr. Anstice? I must go and get ready for church—we +have service early here, you know."</p> + +<p>Immediately Anstice attempted to take his own departure, fearing he had +outstayed his welcome; but Sir Richard positively refused to let him go.</p> + +<p>"No, no, don't hurry away. Stay and keep me company for a little +while—my man can easily run you over in the car presently."</p> + +<p>So it came about that after watching Iris' departure the two men turned +back into the house, where Sir Richard led his visitor to his own cosy +smoking-room and handed him a cigar.</p> + +<p>"Light up," he said genially, "and try that chair. Dr. Anstice, now that +my little girl has left us, I want to say something to you—to ask you a +question, in fact."</p> + +<p>Rather taken aback, Anstice expressed his willingness to answer any +questions his host thought fit to ask; and Sir Richard plunged at once +into the heart of the matter.</p> + +<p>"I understand from Iris that you have been attending the lady living at +Cherry Orchard. Oh!"—as Anstice's eyebrows rose—"I'm not asking you to +violate professional secrecy. I only wished to be sure that you knew the +true position of Mrs. Carstairs in this neighbourhood."</p> + +<p>A moment's reflection showed Anstice that this man would hardly be +likely to permit his young daughter to visit Cherry Orchard unless his +opinion of Mrs. Carstairs were favourable; and his voice was +non-committal as he answered.</p> + +<p>"I have heard Mrs. Carstairs' story from her own lips, Sir Richard. She +was good enough to relate it to me at an early stage of our +acquaintance," he said; and this time it was the other man's eyebrows +which betokened surprise.</p> + +<p>"Indeed! I didn't expect that, or I would not have spoken. I thought you +had probably heard a garbled account of the whole horrible affair from +some of the Pharisees down here; and since I and my daughter are +honoured by Mrs. Carstairs' friendship I wanted to be sure you didn't +allow the weight of local opinion to prejudice you in any way."</p> + +<p>"It's awfully good of you." For once Anstice spoke spontaneously, as he +might have spoken before that fatal day which had changed him into +another and a less impulsive person. "I may take it, then, that you and +Miss Wayne believe in Mrs. Carstairs?"</p> + +<p>"I believe in her as I'd believe in my own girl," returned Sir Richard +emphatically. "Mind you, Chloe Carstairs isn't perfect—we none of us +are. She has her faults—now. She's cynical and cold, a bit of a +<i>poseuse</i>—that marble manner of hers is artificial, I verily +believe—but I'm prepared to swear she had nothing to do with those vile +letters."</p> + +<p>"You have known her long?"</p> + +<p>"Since she was a child. Her father was one of my best friends, and I +knew Chloe when she was a tiny baby girl all tied up with blue ribbons. +Carstairs met her first at my people's place in Surrey, and I was really +pleased when he married the girl and brought her here."</p> + +<p>"They lived here after their marriage?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, for a short time only. Then they were off to India, and there they +remained till her child was born, and she was faced with the old problem +of the woman who marries a soldier."</p> + +<p>"You mean—wife <i>versus</i> mother?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Upon my soul, Anstice, I can't understand how a woman ever decides +between the two claims. To hand over her baby to relations, or even +strangers, must be like tearing the heart out of her bosom, and yet a +woman wants her husband too—wants him especially when she is young—as +Chloe was."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carstairs decided for her child?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. They kept her in India as long as they dared—longer than some +people thought prudent—and then Chloe brought her home to the old +place. Iris was at school then, but Chloe used to come in to see my +sister and me frequently, and we congratulated ourselves that we'd got +such a pleasant neighbour. You know Cherry Orchard is really the nearest +house as the crow flies."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it is; though I hadn't realized it. And then—the crash +came?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. When first those horrible letters began to fly about the parish +they were put down as the work of some spiteful servant, dismissed for +dishonesty, perhaps. But little by little Mrs. Carstairs' name began to +be whispered in connection with them—no one knew how the rumour +started, though I have always held the belief that the Vicar's wife +herself was the first to suggest it."</p> + +<p>"But Mrs. Carstairs and the woman were friends?"</p> + +<p>"They had been—and in the first burst of friendship the foolish woman +had poured out all her silly, sordid secrets to Chloe Carstairs, and +then, possibly, repented having done so. They fell out, you see, and I +suppose Mrs. Ogden, being a woman of a small and petty character +herself, was only too ready to suspect her former friend. She swore, you +know, that no one but Chloe could have known some of the details which +were mentioned in the letters. I can't tell you how vile the whole thing +was—and it was quite evidently the intention of the anonymous writer to +drive Mrs. Ogden out of the parish by those libellous documents."</p> + +<p>"But the matter was thoroughly sifted? And there could be no evidence +against Mrs. Carstairs?"</p> + +<p>"Well, when things had gone on for some time in a desultory kind of +fashion—a letter here, another there, and then an interval of a few +weeks—there came a perfect avalanche of the things, and the Vicar, +although he had really wished to hush the matter up, was advised to take +steps to find out the culprit."</p> + +<p>"Even then I don't see how Mrs. Carstairs could be suspected——"</p> + +<p>"Well, in a matter of this kind, when once a woman's name has been +mentioned, it is very hard for her to clear herself. At first, guided, I +confess, by me, she refused to take any notice of the affair. In the +end, of course, she had to come forward to clear herself of a specific +charge."</p> + +<p>"But what weight had the evidence against her?"</p> + +<p>"Well, certain curious things happened. It was found that the letters +were all written on a particular kind of paper affected by Mrs. +Carstairs for scribbling unimportant notes—household orders and so +on—not by any means an uncommon paper, but still she was the only +person in the village who bought it regularly. Then the handwriting, +though it was scratchy and common-looking, did bear, in some words, a +faint, very faint resemblance to hers; and once, when Chloe was away on +a visit to Brighton, a letter came to the owner of Carr Hall, in the +valley yonder, which had been posted at Hove. Then, as she may have told +you, a trap was laid for her by some of the damned authorities"—he +spoke heatedly—"she was supplied with marked paper; and sure enough the +next letter which arrived was written on one of those identical sheets."</p> + +<p>"But the servants—her servants would have had access to her paper?"</p> + +<p>"Quite so; and that point was made much of by the defence. But when all +the household was examined, it didn't seem a feasible theory that any of +them was to blame."</p> + +<p>"How many servants were there in the house?" Unconsciously Anstice's +manner was that of a doctor interrogating a patient, and Sir Richard +noted the fact with a quickly suppressed flicker of amusement.</p> + +<p>"Four only. During Major Carstairs' absence Mrs. Carstairs wished to +live quietly; and her staff consisted of a cook—a young Frenchman whose +life Major Carstairs had once saved in a drunken brawl in Soho——"</p> + +<p>"A Frenchman, eh?" Anstice habitually distrusted foreigners. "Mightn't +he have been the guilty person?"</p> + +<p>"He only knew enough English to discuss the <i>menu</i> with his mistress," +answered Sir Richard. "Chloe used to make us laugh by relating his +mistakes; and even if he had wished to write the letters he could not +possibly have done it. Besides, he returned to France for his military +training in the very middle of all this, so he really can't be +suspected."</p> + +<p>"Well." In fairness Anstice could not condemn the Frenchman. "Who else +was in the house?"</p> + +<p>"A middle-aged housemaid who had lived with the Carstairs' all her life, +and whose character was quite above suspicion. As a matter of course her +writing was compared with that of the letters and was proved to have +none of the characteristics of the anonymous handwriting. For another +thing her sight was bad, and she couldn't write straight to save her +life."</p> + +<p>"I see. And what of the other two?"</p> + +<p>"One was a pretty young girl who acted as maid to Mrs. Carstairs +herself; and I admit at first it seemed that she was the most likely +person to have been mixed up in the affair; for she was a flighty minx +who wasn't too particular about her behaviour, and was generally engaged +to two or three young men at once."</p> + +<p>"Well?" From Sir Richard's manner Anstice gathered that there was no +case against the pretty young minx; and the next words confirmed his +supposition.</p> + +<p>"Sad to say the poor girl caught a chill and died of pneumonia after +only five days' illness, during which time the letter-writer was +particularly active; and as the communications continued after her +death, she must be counted out."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Anstice, "that accounts for three of them. What about the +fourth?"</p> + +<p>"The fourth was an old servant of the other side of the family—Chloe's +family—the woman they call Tochatti, who lives there still. She's half +Italian, though she's lived the greater part of her life in England. +Chloe's mother picked her up on her honeymoon, and she was Chloe's +nurse. She has been a most devoted servant all the time, and I would +almost as soon suspect Chloe herself as suspect the poor woman of +working any harm to her adored young mistress."</p> + +<p>Remembering the woman's solicitude on the occasion of his first visit to +Cherry Orchard, Anstice was compelled to admit it was unlikely she was +the culprit; and his impression was deepened by Sir Richard's next +speech.</p> + +<p>"As a matter of fact, it came out that the poor old thing couldn't even +write her name. The other woman, Janet, was what she called a 'poor +scollard', but Tochatti went one better, for she could neither write nor +read. It appeared they had often teased her about it, and she had +frequently flown into a rage when the other servants poked fun at her; +but she certainly scored in the end!"</p> + +<p>"Well, that disposes of the household," said Anstice rather regretfully. +"But what about outdoor workers—gardeners and so forth?"</p> + +<p>"There was only one gardener—and a boy—and neither could possibly have +had access to Chloe's writing-table; added to which they both left +Cherry Orchard during the critical time and took situations in different +parts of the county. So they too had to be counted out."</p> + +<p>"All this came out in court?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. You see, had the matter rested between the party libelled and the +libeller—if there is such a term—an action in the Civil Courts to +recover damages would have met the case. But owing to the fact that +practically everyone in the neighbourhood was victimized, and warnings, +almost amounting to threats, issued to the Ogden woman's friends to have +nothing more to do with her, the public were, so to speak, directly +affected; and it was in the interests of the public that, finally, +criminal proceedings were instituted."</p> + +<p>"And in the end an intelligent jury brought in a verdict of guilty?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. The case came on at Ripstone, five miles away, and of course +excited no end of interest locally. To give them their due, the jury +were very reluctant to bring in that verdict—but I assure you"—he +spoke weightily—"when I heard the other side marshalling their facts, +each one making the case look still blacker and more damning, I began to +be afraid. Yes, I confess it, I began to feel very much afraid."</p> + +<p>"And they brought her in guilty?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and the Judge sentenced her. I don't like to accuse one of His +Majesty's judges of allowing his judgment to be prejudiced by personal +feeling," said Sir Richard slowly; "but it has always seemed to me that +Chloe's manner—her peculiarly detached, indifferent manner, as though +the case did not interest her vitally—was in some subtle fashion an +affront to the man. His remarks to her seemed to me unnecessarily +severe, and he certainly did not err on the side of leniency."</p> + +<p>"I should think not! Twelve months—why, it's an Eternity!"</p> + +<p>"What must it have seemed to that poor girl!" Sir Richard spoke +pitifully. "I used to fancy she would die in prison—I could not imagine +how she could support the life in there, in those degrading +surroundings. You know, not only had she been lapped in luxury, as they +say, all her life, but, more important still, she had been used to +boundless love and affection from all around her."</p> + +<p>"You find her much altered?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I can't say exactly in what the alteration consists," returned Sir +Richard thoughtfully. "It's not merely a surface thing—the change goes +deeper than that. I called her <i>posée</i> just now. Well, I don't know if +that's the right word. Sometimes I think that frozen manner of hers +isn't a pose after all, it's natural to her nowadays. She seems to be +literally turned to stone by all she's gone through. Where she used to +be all sympathy, all ardour, all life, now she's cold, frigid, +passionless. The girl's barely twenty-five, but upon my soul she might +be a woman of fifty for all the youth there is about her—except in her +looks, and there I believe she's handsomer than ever!"</p> + +<p>Anstice's cigar was smoked out; but there was one question he must ask +before he took his leave.</p> + +<p>"And her husband—Major Carstairs? He—I gather he was inclined to agree +with the verdict?"</p> + +<p>Sir Richard hesitated, and when he spoke there was a note of pain in his +voice.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to say Carstairs could not bring himself to believe in his +wife's innocence. He was in India at the time, you know, and only got +home—on special leave—when the case was coming on. Heaven knows on +what grounds he bases his doubts of her. One would have thought it +impossible for a man to live with a woman like Chloe and not know her +incapable of the deed. But human nature is a strange thing——" He broke +off.</p> + +<p>"I understand they do not contemplate keeping house together for the +future?" Anstice hoped he was not appearing unduly curious, but Sir +Richard's manner invited interest.</p> + +<p>"No—though mind you, Carstairs has not left his wife because she was +unfortunate enough to be convicted and sent to prison. He's not that +sort. If he could have believed her innocent he would have stuck to her +through thick and thin. As it is he gives her the house, a large +allowance, which permits motor-cars and things of that kind, and since +he is known to be in India a good many people don't know they are really +living apart in a double sense."</p> + +<p>"Yet he can't believe in her?"</p> + +<p>"No—and that's why he will not live with her. In his own rather +peculiar way he has a remarkably high code of honour, and since he +genuinely believes her to be guilty it would doubtless be quite +impossible for him to live with her again."</p> + +<p>"I am rather surprised—seeing she must know his opinion of her—that +she condescends to live in his house and take his money," said Anstice, +voicing a question which had caused him a very real and acute wonder.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you have raised that point," said Sir Richard quickly. "She +does it for the sake of the child, so that Cherry may have all the +advantages of wealth. Chloe herself has nothing and Carstairs is a rich +man; so it is an eminently proper arrangement, and in my opinion Chloe +behaved like a sensible woman in agreeing to it."</p> + +<p>He threw away his cigar, which had gone out as he talked.</p> + +<p>"No—what I wonder at is that Chloe should deliberately choose to come +back here where the whole story is known. It's not bravado, of that I'm +certain, but it beats me altogether how she can do it, for as you know +women can be uncommonly cruel sometimes, and these creatures here aren't +by any means charitably disposed towards her."</p> + +<p>"You allow Miss Wayne to visit her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—and I welcome her to my house on the rare occasions she honours me +by entering it," said Sir Richard with evident sincerity; and Anstice +felt oddly gratified by the other man's speech.</p> + +<p>A clock striking seven brought him to his feet in genuine dismay.</p> + +<p>"Seven o'clock! I'd no idea it was so late! Pray excuse me inflicting +myself on you all this time."</p> + +<p>"Must you go?" Sir Richard rose too, and stood regarding the tall, +loosely built figure with something like admiration. "Well, you're a +busy man, I know; and if you really must go I'll not detain you. But +you'll come in again, won't you? Come to dinner—Iris shall send you a +note—and drop in for a smoke any evening you're at liberty."</p> + +<p>The invitation so heartily given was accepted with a pleasure to which +Anstice had long been a stranger; and then he said good-bye to his kind +host and left Greengates feeling that he had found two unexpectedly +congenial friends in Iris Wayne and her father.</p> + +<p>He had been deeply, genuinely interested in Sir Richard's story, that +unhappy story in which Chloe Carstairs figured so tragically; yet as he +made his way homewards between the blossoming hedgerows his mind dwelt +upon another woman, a younger, happier woman than the pale mistress of +Cherry Orchard. And the face which floated before his eyes in the +starlit spring dusk was the laughing, grey-eyed face of Iris Wayne.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + + +<p>As the weeks passed Anstice's acquaintance with the Waynes ripened into +something which he found strangely pleasant.</p> + +<p>Although he had long ago decided that for him the simple human things of +life, friendship, social intercourse with the world of men and women, +were, since that bygone Indian morning, forbidden, even his acquired +misanthropy was not proof against the kindly advances made to him by Sir +Richard and his daughter.</p> + +<p>Busy as he was, he still found time to accept some of their invitations +to Greengates, and he and Sir Richard enjoyed a quiet chat over their +cigars now and again when by chance he had an evening to himself.</p> + +<p>On their side the Waynes found him, each in his and her own degree, an +agreeable companion. Sir Richard approved of his quiet and reserved +manner, and was not inclined to quarrel with his occasional fits of +moodiness—for there were times when the ghosts which haunted him +refused to be exorcised, and Anstice felt himself unfit, by reason of +the handicap which Fate had imposed upon him, to mingle with the happy, +the careless, the innocent ones of the earth.</p> + +<p>To Sir Richard, kind-hearted, uncritical, undiscerning, such fits of +silence, even of gloom, were natural enough in a man whose life was +spent largely in the service of the sick and suffering among humanity. +He was probably worried over some difficult case, Sir Richard concluded, +when he found the younger man's conversation halting, his manner absent, +or, on rare occasions, morose; and it must be noted that as a rule +Anstice had too much respect for his friends to inflict these moods upon +them. As for Iris, quicker of discernment than her father, of a more +analytical turn of mind, she guessed that the changing moods which +characterized her new acquaintance were not induced by any external or +professional worries, but were the marks of a trouble far more serious, +far more vital to the man himself. Of the nature of this trouble Iris +had naturally no very clear idea, though now and again she considered +the probability of him having been what she called, rather +school-girlishly, crossed in love. But though her phraseology might be +childish there was something purely womanly in the compassion with which +she thought of Anstice; and on one occasion when a fit of melancholy had +overcome him unexpectedly in her presence, he was startled, not to say +dismayed, to notice something of this half-tender, half-impersonal pity +in the soft, brooding glance of her eyes as they rested on him for a +moment.</p> + +<p>It was not with the Waynes alone that he grew more intimate as the days +went by. A short time after his introduction to Greengates Anstice +received a summons to Cherry Orchard, and on repairing thither found +that his patient on this occasion was Cherry Carstairs. With all her +demure dignity Cherry was at times possessed of a very spirit of +perversity; and being, although of such tender years, absolutely devoid +of fear, she had tried conclusions in secret with a shaggy pony in a +field close by her home, with the result that, owing to the pony's +stubborn refusal to allow her to climb upon his back, Cherry received a +kick, more in sorrow than in anger, which snapped the bone in her tiny +forearm, and sent her stumbling home, very pale and shaky, her dignity +sadly in abeyance, to seek her mother.</p> + +<p>Anstice, on arrival, soon had the small arm set and comfortably +bandaged; and once safely in bed, although more upset than she wished +anyone to imagine, Cherry regained her usual half-affectionate +half-patronizing manner, and insisted upon Anstice sitting down beside +her "for at least five minutes, my dear!"</p> + +<p>With a smile, Anstice sat down as requested; and Cherry instantly began +to question him on the subject of Greengates.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it a fassynating house, my dear?" Cherry never employed a short +word when she thought a long one fairly appropriate. "Have you seen +Iris' bedroom?—all done in white and purple and green—and irises +everywhere—on the walls and the curtains—just like a gorjus purple +iris what grows in the garden?"</p> + +<p>"No, I've not seen Miss Wayne's bedroom," owned Anstice rather hastily. +"But it couldn't be prettier than this—why, those bunches of cherries +on the wall are so life-like that I wonder the birds don't come in to +make a meal of them!"</p> + +<p>"Do you like them?" Cherry was openly gratified by his approval. "But I +wish you could see Iris' room. She always takes me there to wash my +hands and face, and the basin is all over irises too."</p> + +<p>"Fassynating" as these details of Miss Wayne's domestic arrangements +might be, Anstice judged it safer to switch his small patient on to +another topic; and in an animated discussion as to the proper age at +which a young lady might begin to ride a motor-bicycle—Cherry inclining +to seven, Anstice to seventeen years—the promised five minutes flew +swiftly away.</p> + +<p>"You'll come again, my dear?" Cherry's anxiety to ensure his attendance +was flattering, and he laughed and assured her he would visit her every +day if she desired it.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact he did visit her with some regularity; for she +managed, with a perversity known only to imps of a like nature, to catch +a severe chill which puzzled her attendants, none of them knowing of a +certain feverishly delightful ten minutes spent in hanging out of the +window holding an interesting conversation with the gardener's boy below +on the subject of broken bones. In any case, Anstice found it necessary +to call at Cherry Orchard on several consecutive days; and during the +child's illness and subsequent convalescence he was perforce obliged to +come into contact with Mrs. Carstairs herself.</p> + +<p>As a physiological study Chloe interested him strongly. Although she +appeared genuinely fond of her little daughter and waited on her night +and day with a solicitude which never varied, there was nothing in her +manner to denote passionate affection, nor did the child appear to +desire it. Even to Cherry her voice, rich and deep as it was, never +softened; and she rarely used an endearing term. Yet Cherry appeared to +be quite satisfied; and Anstice came to the conclusion that the child's +fine instinct was able to pierce behind this apparent coldness to the +warm human love which doubtless lay beneath.</p> + +<p>One fact about Mrs. Carstairs he was not slow in discovering. With the +exception of Iris Wayne and her father, Chloe appeared to be absolutely +devoid of friends, even of casual acquaintances. The Littlefield people, +who had been first surprised, then outraged, by her reappearance among +them, had long since decided that for them Cherry Orchard was <i>tabu</i>; +and although the Vicar, Mr. Carey, successor to the man whose wife had +raised the storm in which Chloe Carstairs' barque had come to shipwreck, +had called upon her, and endeavoured, in his gentle, courtly fashion, to +make her welcome, his parishioners had no intention of following his +example.</p> + +<p>That Mrs. Carstairs felt her isolation in a social sense Anstice did not +believe; but that she must feel very lonely at times, find the days very +long and empty, he felt pretty well assured. She was not an accomplished +woman in the usual sense of the word. He never found her playing the +piano, or painting water-colour pictures as did so many of the women ha +visited. She did not appear to care for needlework, and in spite of the +books scattered about the house, he rarely saw her reading; yet all the +while he had a feeling that had she desired to shine in any or all of +the arts peculiar to women she would have no difficulty in doing so.</p> + +<p>That she ordered her household excellently he knew from the glimpses he +had obtained of her domestic life; but there again she was assisted by a +staff of superior servants who all, from her personal attendant, the +devoted Tochatti, down to the boy who cleaned the knives, worshipped +their mistress with a wholehearted affection which held about it a touch +of something almost resembling fanaticism.</p> + +<p>One day Anstice did find her with a book in her hand; and on venturing +to inquire into its contents was informed it was a well-known <i>Treatise +on Chess</i>.</p> + +<p>"Do you play?" he asked, rather astonished, for in common with many men +he imagined chess to be almost purely a masculine pastime.</p> + +<p>"Yes—at least I used to play once," she admitted slowly. "I can't very +well indulge in a game nowadays. Even the grownup Cherry declines to +play, though I hope in time I may incite her to learn!"</p> + +<p>"I used to play—indifferently—once," Anstice said meditatively; and +Chloe looked at him with a faint smile.</p> + +<p>"Did you? Some day when you are not too busy will you drop in to tea and +play a game with me?"</p> + +<p>"I'd like to immensely." His tone was sincere, and Chloe's manner warmed +ever so little.</p> + +<p>"Can you stay now?" The hour was just on five; and Cherry, who had that +day been promoted to tea downstairs, seconded the invitation as usual +from her nest on the big Chesterfield.</p> + +<p>"Do stay, my dear, and I'll help you to move all the funny little men +and the castles!"</p> + +<p>Anstice could not refuse this double invitation; and after a hasty cup +of tea he and his hostess sat down to the board and set out the ancient +ivory chessmen which were so well suited to the pretty, old-fashioned +room in which the players sat.</p> + +<p>To Anstice's quite unjustifiable surprise Chloe Carstairs played an +admirable game. Her moves were clearly reasoned out, and she displayed a +quickness of thought, a brilliance of man[oe]uvre, which soon convinced +Anstice he was outplayed.</p> + +<p>At the end of fifteen minutes Chloe had vanquished him completely; and +while most of his men were reposing in the carved box at her elbow, the +ranks of her army were scarcely thinned.</p> + +<p>"I give in, Mrs. Carstairs!" He laughed and rose. "You won't think me +unsporting if I run away now? I'm beat hollow, and I know it, but if you +will condescend to play with me another day——"</p> + +<p>"I shall look forward to another game," she said serenely; and Anstice +departed, feeling he had been permitted to obtain another sidelight on +her somewhat complex character.</p> + +<p>Two days later he made another and rather disconcerting discovery, which +set him wondering afresh as to the real nature of the woman who, like +himself, had been the victim of a strangely vindictive fate.</p> + +<p>The day was Sunday, and Cherry had been permitted the indulgence of +breakfast in bed; so that Anstice interviewed his young patient in her +own pink-and-white nest, where, attended by the faithful Tochatti, she +gave herself innumerable airs and graces, but finally allowed him to +examine her small arm, which was now practically healed.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carstairs not up yet?" It was ten o'clock—but there was no sign +of Cherry's mother.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir." Tochatti spoke slowly, her foreign accent more strongly +marked than usual. "My mistress has a slight headache and is in her own +room. She would like to see you before you go."</p> + +<p>Accordingly, after a prolonged parting from Cherry, who shamelessly +importuned him to neglect his other and less important patients, Anstice +accompanied Tochatti to Mrs. Carstairs' sitting-room where its owner +presumably awaited him.</p> + +<p>The room itself was in its way as uncommon as its occupant, being +furnished entirely in black and white. The walls were white, the carpet +black. The chairs and couches were upholstered in black-and-white +chintz, with a profusion of cushions of both hues, and the pictures on +the white walls were etchings in black oak frames. On the mantelpiece +was a collection of carved ivory toys of all kinds, with here and there +an ebony elephant from Ceylon or Assam. The paint on doors and windows +was black, yet in spite of the sombreness of the general scheme there +was nothing depressing, nothing sinister in the finished effect.</p> + +<p>Possibly because Chloe Carstairs was an artist—or a wise woman who knew +the value of relief—one note of colour was struck in the presence of a +huge china bowl filled with tulips of every conceivable shade of flame +and orange and yellow and red; but with that exception black and white +predominated, and when Chloe Carstairs rose from her low chair near the +window and advanced towards him, she, too, carried out the subtle +suggestion of the whole room.</p> + +<p>Dressed in white, her silky black hair and blue eyes the only bits of +colour about her, she looked paler than usual, and Anstice jumped to the +conclusion she had sent for him to prescribe for her.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Dr. Anstice." Anstice, who hated shaking hands with most +people, always liked her firm, cool handshake. "How is Cherry? You find +her better?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she is really quite herself again, and her arm has healed most +satisfactorily." He stood in front of her as he spoke, and studied her +face carefully. "But you don't look very fit, Mrs. Carstairs. Can I do +anything for you now that your little daughter has finished with me?"</p> + +<p>She looked at him with a smile which was more melancholy than usual.</p> + +<p>"I think not," she said slowly. "You see, I am not ill, only a little +tired—tired with remembering days that are gone."</p> + +<p>"Isn't that rather a fatal thing to do?" His own bitter memories gave +him the clue to her state of mind. "No good ever comes of remembering +sad things. I think the perfect memory would be one which would only +retain the happiness of life. You know the old motto found on many +sundials: 'I only record sunny hours.'"</p> + +<p>"I don't agree with you," she said quietly. "It's the shadows which give +value to the high lights, isn't it? And sometimes to remember dreadful +things is a happiness in itself, knowing they are gone for ever. I can +quite well bear to remember that horrible prison"—as always when +speaking of it, her lips whitened—"because no power on earth can ever +put me back there again."</p> + +<p>"I don't think it can do you any good to dwell on such memories," he +persisted. "If you are wise you will forget them. No wonder your head +aches if you dwell on such unpleasant things."</p> + +<p>She looked at him more fully, and in her eyes he read something which +baffled him.</p> + +<p>"You are quite right—and delightfully sane and sensible," she said. +"But as a matter of fact, I wasn't really thinking of the prison to-day. +You see, this is the anniversary of my wedding day, and my thoughts were +not altogether sad ones."</p> + +<p>He looked at her, nonplussed for the moment, and suddenly Chloe's face +softened.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice, forgive me. The fact is, I had a bad night, and am all on +edge this morning."</p> + +<p>"Why do you sit in here?" asked Anstice abruptly. "It is a lovely +morning—the sun is warm and there's no wind. Why not go out into your +charming garden? Lie in a low chair and sleep—or read some amusing +book. Is this a particularly engrossing one?"</p> + +<p>He picked up the volume she had laid down at his entrance, and she +watched him with a faint hint of mockery in her blue eyes. His face +changed as he read the title.</p> + +<p>"De Quincey's <i>Confessions</i>! Mrs. Carstairs, you're not interested in +this sort of thing?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" Her manner was ever so slightly antagonistic. "The subject is +a fascinating one, isn't it? I confess I've often felt inclined to try +opium—morphia or something of the sort, myself."</p> + +<p>"Morphia?" His voice startled her by its harshness. "Don't make a joke +of it, Mrs. Carstairs. If I thought you really meant that——"</p> + +<p>"But I do—or did." She spoke coolly. "I even went so far as to purchase +the means of indulging my fancy."</p> + +<p>"You did? But—forgive me—why?"</p> + +<p>"Don't we all sigh for oblivion now and then?" She put the question +calmly, looking him squarely in the face the while. "I have always +understood that morphia is one of the roads into Paradise—a Fool's +Paradise, no doubt, but we poor wretches can't always choose our +heavens."</p> + +<p>"Nor our hells!" He still spoke vehemently. "Yes, there are times in all +our lives when oblivion, forgetfulness, seems very desirable, very +alluring. But let me entreat you, Mrs. Carstairs, not to seek to enter +Paradise by that devil's key!"</p> + +<p>Her almond-shaped eyes grew still more narrow as she looked at him.</p> + +<p>"I wonder why you speak so impressively," she said slowly. "As a doctor +doubtless you are <i>au fait</i> in the subject, yet your vehemence seems to +imply——" She paused.</p> + +<p>"As a doctor I've seen enough of the havoc the opium fiend plays in the +lives of men—and women," he said steadily, "to realize the danger that +lies in the insidious habit. I have seen women—women like you"—he had +no idea of sparing her—"young, of good position and all the rest of it, +who have slid into the deadly thing on the flimsiest of pretexts—and +then, too late, have realized they are bound—for life—with fetters +which cannot be broken."</p> + +<p>"Yet the deadly thing is fascinating, isn't it? Else why do so many fall +under its sway?"</p> + +<p>"Fascinating?" With an inward shudder Anstice recalled those months +after Hilda Ryder's death—those horrible, chaotic months when, in a +vain endeavour to stifle thought, to deaden remorse, he had invoked the +aid of the poppy, and by so doing had almost precipitated a moral +catastrophe which should have been more overwhelming than the first. +"For God's sake, Mrs. Carstairs, don't become obsessed by that idea. The +morphia habit is one degrading slavery of mind and body, and only the +miserable victims know how delusive are its promises, how unsatisfactory +its rewards. What can you expect from a cult whose highest reward—the +only thing, indeed, it has to offer you, is—oblivion?"</p> + +<p>Chloe Carstairs did not reply. Instead, she turned away and moved across +the room to a small black escritoire which stood against the white wall. +Bending down she opened it, and after pressing a spring, released what +appeared to be a secret drawer. From this she lifted out a little packet +wrapped in white paper and sealed with red wax, and holding it in her +hand she came slowly back to where Anstice stood, made vaguely +uncomfortable by her curious, almost secretive manner.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice"—she held out the packet—"will you take charge of this +for me? It is the key—what you called the devil's key just now—to the +Paradise I have never had the courage to enter."</p> + +<p>Anstice took the little parcel from her with something of sternness in +his face.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mrs. Carstairs. But what, exactly, is this thing?"</p> + +<p>"An hypodermic syringe and a supply of morphia," she informed him +tranquilly. Then, as he pursed his lips into an involuntary whistle, she +went on, with more than a hint of mockery in her manner: "Oh, I came by +it quite honestly, I assure you! I didn't steal it from a doctor's +surgery—I bought it at a chemist's shop in London."</p> + +<p>"You did?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I made the young man show me how to use it." She smiled rather +ironically. "Naturally I was ignorant in the matter, and I didn't want +to make a blunder in its use."</p> + +<p>"Really? Well, Mrs. Carstairs, this is your property, but I wish I might +persuade you to leave it in my keeping for the present."</p> + +<p>"You think it would be safer there?" She looked at him as though +considering the matter. "Well, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>"You wonder—what?" He spoke dryly.</p> + +<p>"Whether it <i>is</i> safer with you. Of course, as a doctor you can get +plenty of your own——"</p> + +<p>"I shan't be tempted to steal yours for my private use," said Anstice a +trifle grimly; and the Fates who rule the lives of men probably smiled +to themselves over the fatuity of mankind.</p> + +<p>"Well, I gave it to you myself, so you may as well keep it," said Chloe +indifferently, as though already tired of the subject; and without more +ado Anstice slipped the little white packet into his pocket, and took +leave of its former owner before she had opportunity to change her mind +on the subject.</p> + +<p>He could not dismiss the figure of Chloe Carstairs from his thoughts as +he went about his day's work. Intuitively he knew that she was a +bitterly unhappy woman, that her life, like his own, had been rent in +two by a cataclysm of appalling magnitude, such as visits very few human +beings, and he told himself that this woman, too, had been down in the +depths even as he had been. And no man, no woman, who has once known the +blackness of the abyss, that "outer darkness" in which the soul sits +apart in a horror of loneliness, can ever view the world again with +quite the clear-eyed vision of the normal human being to whom, +fortunately for the sanity of the race, such appalling experiences are +mercifully unknown.</p> + +<p>On a morning a week later Anstice received a note from Mrs. Carstairs.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Dr. Anstice</span>,"</p> + +<p>"My brother has unexpectedly written to offer himself for a couple +of nights, and I shall be pleased if you will come to dinner this +evening at half-past seven to meet him. I have invited Miss Wayne, +so please complete our quartette if you can."</p> + +<p>"Sincerely,"</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Chloe Carstairs</span>."</p></div> + +<p>For some moments Anstice sat inwardly debating the question, the note in +his hand.</p> + +<p>He had no engagement for the evening. The people of Littlefield, +puzzled, perhaps a little piqued, by the aloofness of his manner, rarely +invited him to their houses in anything but his professional capacity, +though they called upon his services in and out of season; and Sir +Richard Wayne and Mr. Carey, the gentle, courtly Vicar of the parish, +were the only two men with whom he ever enjoyed an hour's quiet chat +over a soothing pipe or cigar.</p> + +<p>So that there was no reason why he should hesitate to accept Chloe +Carstairs' invitation for that particular evening, yet hesitate he did, +unaccountably; and when, after fifteen minutes indecision, he suddenly +scribbled and dispatched an acceptance, the messenger had barely gone +from his presence before he felt an unreasoning impulse to recall the +letter.</p> + +<p>What lay at the bottom of his strange reluctance to enjoy Chloe's +hospitality he had not the faintest notion. He had no special aversion +to meeting her brother, nor was he in any way reluctant to improve his +acquaintance with Iris Wayne.... Did his heart, indeed, beat just a +shade faster at the thought of meeting her? Yet something seemed to +whisper that this invitation was disastrous, that it would set in train +events which might be overwhelming in their sequence.</p> + +<p>He tried, vainly, to banish the faint premonition of evil which had +fallen upon him when he realized it was too late to recall his +acceptance. Throughout the day it persisted, and when at length he went +to his room to dress for the evening, he felt a strong inclination to +excuse himself over the telephone on the plea of an urgent call to whose +importance he could not turn a deaf ear.</p> + +<p>Such an excuse would, he knew, pass muster well enough. A doctor can +rarely be depended upon, socially, and when he was dressed he went +downstairs with the intention of ringing up Cherry Orchard and +regretting his inability to make a fourth at Mrs. Carstairs' +dinner-table that night.</p> + +<p>Yet at the last moment Fate, or that other Higher Power of which we know +too little to speak with any familiarity, intervened to restrain his +impulse, and with a muttered imprecation at his own unusual vacillation +he turned away from the telephone and went out to his waiting car +impatiently.</p> + +<p>Arriving at Cherry Orchard, the elderly manservant relieved him of his +coat with a deferential smile.</p> + +<p>"I think I'm a little late, Hagyard." Anstice glanced at the grandfather +clock in the corner. "Or perhaps your clock's a bit forward."</p> + +<p>"I daresay it is, sir." Hagyard accepted the suggestion with +well-trained alacrity. "Miss Wayne has only been here a moment or two."</p> + +<p>He threw open the door as he spoke and Anstice entered the drawing-room +with a sudden unwelcome return of his premonition strong upon him.</p> + +<p>Yet the room, with its shaded lamps, small wood-fire, and latticed +windows open to the sweet spring twilight, looked peaceful enough. As +usual there were masses of flowers about, tulips, narcissi, anemones; +and the atmosphere was fragrant as Anstice went forward to greet his +hostess, who stood by one of the casements with her guests beside her.</p> + +<p>She came towards him with her usual slow step, which never, for all its +deliberation, suggested the languor of ill-health; and as he began to +apologize for his late arrival she smiled away his apologies.</p> + +<p>"You're not really late, Dr. Anstice, and in any case we should have +given you a few minutes' grace."</p> + +<p>She stood aside for him to greet Iris, and as he shook hands with the +girl Anstice's heart gave a sudden throb of pleasure, which, for the +moment, almost succeeded in banishing that uncanny premonition of evil +which had come with him to the very gates of Cherry Orchard.</p> + +<p>She was very simply dressed in a frock of filmy grey-green chiffon whose +colour reminded him of the spiky leaves of a carnation; but he had never +seen her look prettier than on that mild spring night; and his eyes +unconsciously softened as they dwelt upon her face for one fleeting +moment.</p> + +<p>Then as Chloe's soft, deep voice, introducing her brother, stole on his +ear, he turned to greet the other man; and instantly he realized, too +late, the meaning of that presentiment of ill which had haunted him all +day; understood why the inner, spiritual part of him had bidden him +refuse Chloe Carstairs' invitation to Cherry Orchard that night.</p> + +<p>For the man who turned leisurely from the window to greet the new-comer +was the man whom he had last seen in a green-walled bedroom in an Indian +hotel, the man whom, by a tragic error, he had robbed of the woman he +loved, from whom he had parted with a mutual hope that their paths in +life might never cross again.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Mrs. Carstairs' brother was the man whom Hilda Ryder had loved, Bruce +Cheniston himself.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + + +<p>As a rule the psychological moments of life come and go so quietly that +their passing attracts little notice. Quite minor happenings give rise +to demonstrations of excitement, of joy, of loudly voiced approbation or +disappointment. But the moments which really matter in a life, which +mark an epoch or destroy a dream, pass as a rule so quietly that only +those whose dreams are shattered, or whose lives have been touched with +the glory of the immortal, know that for a brief instant Time has become +interchangeable with Eternity; that in the space of sixty fleeting +seconds whole cycles of life have been lived through, and a vast and +yawning gulf, in thought, in feeling, in spiritual growth or mental +outlook, has opened to divide this moment from the one which directly +preceded it.</p> + +<p>Such a moment was this one in which the two men who were bound together +by so tragic a link came face to face in Chloe Carstairs' drawing-room.</p> + +<p>Each had been quite sincere in his dread of any future meeting; but +whereas Bruce Cheniston had been the victim of as cruel a circumstance +as ever deprived lover of his beloved, Anstice was the more to be +pitied, inasmuch as to his own burden of regret must be added the +knowledge that through his premature action he had given another man the +right to execrate his name so long as they both should live.</p> + +<p>For a second Anstice wondered, growing cold whether Cheniston would +refuse to shake hands with him. In his heart he knew quite well, had +always known, that he had not been to blame in that bygone episode; that +although he had done a thing which must haunt him for the rest of his +life by reason of its tragic uselessness, as a man in whom a woman had +trusted he had had no alternative but to act as he had acted.</p> + +<p>Yet of all men on earth Cheniston might well question the necessity of +his action; and Anstice told himself with a fast-beating heart that he +would have no right to resentment should the other refuse to take his +hand, to sit at meat with the man who had deprived Hilda Ryder of her +share in the gracious inheritance of life in the world she had called so +beautiful.</p> + +<p>For a second, indeed, Cheniston himself hesitated, checked in the +friendly greeting he had been about to bestow on his sister's visitor. +He had arrived late that evening, and had been dismissed to dress with +the hasty information that two guests were expected to dinner, but he +had had no idea of the last arrival's identity; and to him, too, the +meeting brought back with horrible poignancy that last bitter interview +in the haunted East.</p> + +<p>Then, for Bruce Cheniston was sufficiently just to acquit Anstice of any +share in this untoward situation, he held out his hand with a cold +courtesy which plainly betokened no intention of alluding to any former +meeting.</p> + +<p>"Good evening." Their hands touched, then fell apart. "You are a +new-comer to Littlefield, I understand. Like the place?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—in moderation," rejoined Anstice with equally frigid courtesy. +"The country has its charms—at this season of the year."</p> + +<p>"It has charms at all seasons, Dr. Anstice." Iris' light voice +challenged him, even while her grey eyes noted the strange expression in +his face. "I'm afraid you're not a real country lover if you qualify +your affection by picking out a particular season!"</p> + +<p>"You remind one of those people who love dogs—'in their proper place.'" +Chloe's tone was delicately quizzical. "On inquiry you find their proper +place is outside—in some kennel or inclosure as far away from the +speaker as it is possible to get!"</p> + +<p>"You can't be charged with that particular kind of affection, Chloe." +There was an assertive note in Cheniston's voice when he spoke to his +sister which was new to her. "You think a dog's proper place is the best +armchair or the downiest bed in the house!"</p> + +<p>For a second Chloe did not reply; and without waiting Bruce went on +speaking.</p> + +<p>"By the way, where are your dogs? I've not seen hide or hair of one +since I arrived."</p> + +<p>Again there was a short, but quite perceptible silence. Then Chloe said +tranquilly:</p> + +<p>"No wonder you haven't seen any dogs, Bruce. There aren't any to see."</p> + +<p>"No dogs?" Bruce was frankly astonished. "Why, in the old days you used +to declare you couldn't live without them!"</p> + +<p>Just for a second a quiver of emotion convulsed Chloe's usually +impassive face. Then she laughed, and Anstice thought her laugh almost +painful in its artificiality.</p> + +<p>"My dear Bruce," she said, "please remember the old days are as dead +as—as Queen Anne. When I was young enough and foolish enough to believe +in disinterested affection, and in the right of every creature to be +happy, I adored dogs—or thought I did. Now I am wiser, and know that +life is not all bones and playtime, so to speak. Besides, they always +die when one is fond of them, and I quite agree with Kipling that with +so much unavoidable discomfort to put up with, it's the height of folly +to 'give one's heart to a dog to tear.' In future I yield no fraction of +my heart to any living creature—not even a dog."</p> + +<p>Certainly Chloe's drawing-room was a battlefield of conflicting emotions +this evening. Just for a moment she had been shaken out of her usual +poise, had spoken warmly, as a normal woman might have done; yet both +Iris who loved her, and Anstice who had studied her, knew that this +warmer manner, this apparent freedom of speech, was in reality the +outward sign of some inward disturbance; and both guessed, vaguely, that +the meeting with her brother, who had not been in England for several +years, was the cause of her unusual animation.</p> + +<p>Fortunately as she finished speaking the gong which summoned them to +dinner began to sound; and a moment later Bruce offered his arm to Iris +and led her into the dining-room, followed by Anstice and his hostess.</p> + +<p>Not appearing to notice his proffered arm, Chloe walked beside him in a +sudden pensive silence which Anstice found oddly appealing after her +impetuous speech; and for a moment he forgot his own equivocal position +in a desire to help her through what he guessed to be a trying moment.</p> + +<p>Once seated at the pretty round table things became easier. The room was +softly lit by innumerable candles—a fancy of Chloe's—and in their +tender light both women looked their best. As usual Mrs. Carstairs wore +white, the fittest setting, Anstice thought, for her pale and tragic +grace; but to-night she had thrown a wonderful Chinese scarf round her +shoulders, and the deep blue ground, embroidered with black and green +birds and flowers, gave an unusually distinctive note to her elusive +personality. Opposite to her Iris, in her filmy grey-green frock, a big +bunch of violets at her breast, wore the look of a nymph, some woodland +creature whose fragrant charm and youthful freshness were in striking +contrast to Chloe's more finished beauty.</p> + +<p>The conversation, once started, ran easily enough. Although he never +mentioned India, Cheniston was ready enough to talk of Egypt, where for +some years he had made his home; and Iris, to whose young imagination +the very name of that mysterious land was a charm, listened entranced to +his description of a trip he had lately taken up the Nile.</p> + +<p>"You are an engineer, Mr. Cheniston?" Anstice interpolated a polite +question and Cheniston answered in the same tone.</p> + +<p>"Yes. And engineering in the land of the Pharaohs is no joke. You must +remember that we, as engineers, are only now where they were thousands +of years ago. I mean that our present-day feats, the Dam at Assouan, +wonderful as it is, and the rest, are mere child's play compared with +the marvels they constructed in their day."</p> + +<p>"So I have been told before." Only Anstice knew how hard it was to sit +there conversing as though he and this man shared no tragic memory in +common. "But if Egyptologists are to be believed there is hardly any +invention, any scientific discovery—so called—which wasn't known to +the Egyptians many thousands of years before the birth of Christ."</p> + +<p>"They even possessed aeroplanes, didn't they?" asked Iris, smiling; and +Bruce Cheniston turned to her with an involuntary softening in his +rather harsh voice.</p> + +<p>"So it is stated, I believe," he said, with an answering smile. "And it +is generally believed that in the lost Continent of Atlantis——"</p> + +<p>He went on talking, not monopolizing the conversation, but keeping it +going so skilfully that Iris, at least, did not recognize the fact that +both Mrs. Carstairs and Anstice were more than ordinarily silent as the +meal progressed.</p> + +<p>When the short but perfect dinner was finished Chloe rose.</p> + +<p>"We will have coffee in the drawing-room, Bruce," she said as she moved +slowly to the door. "If you are not too long over your cigarettes I +daresay Miss Wayne will sing for us."</p> + +<p>"With that inducement we shall soon follow you," said Cheniston gravely; +and as Iris passed through the door which Anstice held open for her she +gave him a friendly little smile which somehow nerved him for the ordeal +which he foresaw to be at hand.</p> + +<p>Closing the door he came back again to the table, but did not yet sit +down. Bruce had already reseated himself and was pouring out a glass of +port, an operation he interrupted with a perfunctory apology.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me—pray help yourself." He pushed the decanter across the +table, but Anstice shook his head.</p> + +<p>"No, thanks." He hesitated a moment, then plunged into the subject which +must surely be uppermost in both their minds. "See here, Cheniston, I +should like you to understand that when I accepted Mrs. Carstairs' kind +hospitality to-night I had no idea you were the brother I was to meet."</p> + +<p>For a second Cheniston said nothing, his brown hand playing absently +with a pair of nutcrackers beside him. Then he raised his head and +looked Anstice squarely in the face.</p> + +<p>"I am quite ready to believe that," he said slowly. "I can hardly +conceive any circumstances in which you would care to run the risk of a +meeting with me."</p> + +<p>"Quite so." Something in Cheniston's manner made Anstice suddenly angry. +"Though I would ask you, in common fairness, to believe that my distaste +for such a meeting rises rather from my reluctance to remind you of the +past than from any acknowledgment that you have a right to resent my +presence."</p> + +<p>Again Bruce Cheniston looked him in the face; and this time there was a +genuine surprise in his blue eyes.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I have given you reason to suppose I resent meeting you," +he said with a new note in his voice, a note of something more +definitely like hostility than he had hitherto permitted himself to +show. "Since you have started the subject I may say that as a rule one +doesn't greet as a brother the man who has robbed one of one's most +treasured possession—I'm speaking metaphorically, of course—but I +think you can hardly find fault with my—hesitation just now."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you have been politeness itself," said Anstice, rather bitterly. +"And in return for your forbearance I will relieve you of my unwelcome +presence immediately. Luckily my profession makes it easy for me to +behave with what, in another man, would appear discourtesy."</p> + +<p>He turned towards the door; but Bruce's voice arrested him midway.</p> + +<p>"One moment, Dr. Anstice." His tone was less openly hostile. "Don't go +yet, please. There are still one or two things to be said between us. +Will you do me the favour of sitting down again and letting us talk a +little?"</p> + +<p>"I don't see what good will come of it, but I'll stay if you wish." +Anstice returned to the table, and drawing out a chair—the one which +Iris had occupied during the meal—he sat down and lighted a cigarette +with a slightly defiant air.</p> + +<p>"To begin with"—Cheniston spoke abruptly—"I gather you know my +sister's story—know the bitter injustice that has been done to her in +this damned place?"</p> + +<p>Rather taken aback Anstice hesitated before replying, and Cheniston +continued without waiting for him to speak:</p> + +<p>"I say you know it, because my sister has a code of honour which forbids +her welcoming to her house anyone who is ignorant of that horrible +chapter in her history. And since I find you here, not only as a doctor, +but as a friend, I gather you believe she was innocent of the charge +against her."</p> + +<p>"Most certainly I believe in Mrs. Carstairs' innocence." He spoke warmly +now.</p> + +<p>"For that, at least, I am grateful to you." His tone did not betray +overwhelming gratitude, yet Anstice felt a sudden lightening of his +spirit. "To me, of course, it is absolutely inconceivable how anyone +could believe my sister guilty of such a degrading crime—or series of +crimes—but doubtless I am biassed in her favour. Still, you are a new +acquaintance, and don't know her as I do; so that I am grateful to you +for your clear-sightedness in the matter."</p> + +<p>He broke off for a moment to drink some wine. Then:</p> + +<p>"I should like to ask you one question. Does my sister know of that +episode in India? I mean, of course, of your share in the affair?"</p> + +<p>"No. And," said Anstice, "it has been puzzling me for the last couple of +hours to understand how it is that she has not connected my name with +you. Didn't she know it at the time?"</p> + +<p>"I daresay. But you must remember that my sister has gone through a +great deal since that day, three years ago. Very soon after that she +became involved in that terrible chain of events which led to her public +humiliation; and I haven't a shadow of doubt that the names of the +actors in the tragedy which broke up my life vanished completely from +her memory. As you may have noticed, Chloe is a self-centred woman. Her +sympathies are not deep, nor her interests wide. Her own life is a good +deal more interesting to her than the lives of other people—it is +generally so with strong characters, I believe—and after all, her own +tragedy has been so appalling that she may be excused if she has not a +very keen curiosity for those of others."</p> + +<p>"I quite agree with you. But"—it was Anstice's turn to look Cheniston +fully in the face—"do I understand you wish me to tell your sister of +our former—acquaintance?"</p> + +<p>After his question there fell a silence, during which Anstice had time +to study the other man more fully than he had hitherto done.</p> + +<p>Like himself, Cheniston had altered since that day in India. Although +still sunburned and florid, a typical young Englishman in his +square-shouldered build and general air of clean fitness, there was +something in his face which had not been there before, which warred +oddly with the youth which still lurked in the blue eyes and round the +clean-shaven mouth. The boyishness had vanished from his features, +taking with it all hint of softness; and in its place was a hard, +assertive look, the look of one who, having been once worsted in a bout +with Fate, through no fault of his own, was determined for the future to +keep a sharp lookout for his own interests and well-being.</p> + +<p>That it was a stronger face there was no denying, but it was also a far +less attractive one than that which Bruce Cheniston, the boy, had +presented to the world.</p> + +<p>At another moment Anstice would have found occasion for interested +speculation in the question as to whether or no this new man were the +real Bruce Cheniston—the Cheniston who would eventually have come to +the surface no matter how his life had been ordained; and as a +psychologist he would have found pleasure in debating the subject in all +its aspects. But as things were he was too miserably conscious that to +him, indirectly, this change from boy to man was due to take any +interest in the subtler question as to whether, after all, the +alteration was only the logical outcome of the man's true character, +uninfluenced by external happenings.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"No." Cheniston spoke so suddenly that Anstice started. "On the whole I +see no reason why my sister need be told the truth. Of course, one day +the similarity of name may flash upon her, and then, naturally, she must +be told."</p> + +<p>"Quite so." Anstice played with an empty glass for a moment. "As a +matter of fact I should really prefer Mrs. Carstairs to know the truth. +Of course the decision rests with you; but if you see your way to +telling her the story, pray don't be held back from doing so by any +scruples on my account. Besides——"</p> + +<p>Suddenly, so suddenly that he broke off involuntarily in his sentence, +the notes of the piano rang out from the room across the hall, and +without thinking what he did he rose hastily to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Miss Wayne is going to sing." Cheniston followed his lead politely. +"Shall we go and listen to the concert, Anstice?"</p> + +<p>"As you like. Forgive my abruptness, Cheniston." He had realized he had +acted unconventionally. "Miss Wayne's singing is a treat one doesn't +want to lose."</p> + +<p>With a queer little smile Cheniston led the way across the hall, and +they entered the drawing-room, Iris bringing her prelude to a close as +the door opened to admit them.</p> + +<p>"Come and sit down, Dr. Anstice." Chloe indicated a deep chair beside +the piano, and nothing loth, Anstice sat down as directed, while +Cheniston, his face a little in shadow, stood by one of the +widely-opened casements, through which the scents of the sleeping garden +stole softly, like a benison from the heart of the pitiful earth.</p> + +<p>A moment later Iris began to sing, and once again her rich, soft tones +seemed to cast a spell over Anstice's troubled, bitter spirit.</p> + +<p>From his low seat he had an unimpeded view of the singer. Her profile, +shaded by her soft, fair hair, looked unusually pure and delicate in the +candlelight, and as she sang the rise and fall of her breast in its fold +of filmy chiffon, the motion of her hands over the ivory keys, the sweet +seriousness of her expression, gave her an appearance of radiant, tender +youth which held an appeal as potent as it was unconscious.</p> + +<p>When she had finished her song, the last notes dying away into silence, +Cheniston came forward quickly.</p> + +<p>"Miss Wayne, you sing beautifully. May we ask for another song? You're +not tired, are you?"</p> + +<p>He bent over her as he spoke, and something in his manner, something +subtly protective, made Anstice's heart beat with a sudden fierce +jealousy which he knew to be quite unjustifiable.</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not in the least tired." Iris lifted her grey eyes frankly to +Cheniston's face, and again Anstice, watching, felt a pang of whose +nature he could have no doubt. He rose from his chair, with a +half-formed intention of adding his entreaties to those of Cheniston, +but sank back again as he realized the favour was already won.</p> + +<p>"I will sing with pleasure." Iris turned on the music-stool to glance at +her hostess, and Anstice saw her face, pearly and luminous in the soft +candlelight. "Mrs. Carstairs, you like Dvorak. Shall I sing you one of +his gipsy songs?"</p> + +<p>"Please, Iris." Few words of endearment ever passed between the two, yet +each felt something like real affection for the other, and Chloe's deep +voice was always gentle when she spoke to Iris.</p> + +<p>The next moment Cheniston stepped back and took up his former position +on the far side of the piano; and Iris began the simple little melody +which Dvorak acquired from the gipsies of his native land.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Songs my mother taught me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the days long vanished!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So far Anstice heard the pure, soft voice; and suddenly he felt a +half-shy, half-reverential wonder as to what manner of woman she had +been who had brought this adorable girl into the world. Surely Fate had +been cruel to this unknown woman, inasmuch as Death had been permitted +to snatch her away before her eyes had been gladdened by the vision of +her child grown into this priceless, this wonderful youth, which held a +hint of a yet more gracious, yet more desirable womanhood....</p> + +<p>And then the second verse stole softly on the quiet air....</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now I teach my children<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each melodious measure...."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Again did one, at least, of Iris' hearers lose the remaining lines. For +to Anstice these words brought another vision—a vision in which Iris, +this fair-haired girl who looked so adorably young and sweet, bent over +a little child whose rose-leaf face was a baby replica of her own....</p> + +<p>And suddenly Anstice knew, knew irrevocably, beyond shadow of doubt, +that he wanted Iris Wayne for himself, that she was the one woman in all +the world he desired to make his wife....</p> + +<p>With a wild throb of his heart he looked up—to find Bruce Cheniston's +eyes fixed upon his face with a half-mocking smile in their blue depths, +of whose hostile meaning there could be no question.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>An hour or so later, when the guests had departed, and Cheniston had +finished a solitary pipe downstairs, he went up, yawning, to bed. +Passing his sister's open door he heard her call him, and after a +second's indecision he answered the summons, wondering why she were not +already asleep.</p> + +<p>Chloe was sitting by the open window, wearing a thin grey wrapper which +made her look curiously pale and ethereal. Her thick hair hung in two +heavy plaits over her shoulders, and in the dim light her face showed +indistinctly in its silky black frame.</p> + +<p>"Chloe, why aren't you in bed?" Bruce paused half-way across the room.</p> + +<p>"I'm not sleepy," she said indifferently. "I often sit here half the +night. Bruce"—her voice grew more alert—"have you and Dr. Anstice met +before?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "we have. But why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>"I thought there was something rather curious about your meeting," she +answered slowly. "At first I could not understand it, and then it dawned +upon me that you had met—and distrusted one another—before."</p> + +<p>"Distrusted?" He stared at her. "That isn't the right word, Chloe. We +<i>have</i> met before—in India. I almost wonder you yourself didn't realize +that fact, but I suppose you were not sufficiently interested——"</p> + +<p>She interrupted him without ceremony.</p> + +<p>"I? But how should I realize ... unless"—suddenly her intuition serving +her as it serves so many women, she grasped the truth with a quickness +which surprised even her brother—"was that the name of the man who—you +don't mean it was Dr. Anstice who ... who...."</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I see you've grasped the truth. Anstice is an uncommon name, and +I'm surprised you did not recognize it earlier."</p> + +<p>"I had forgotten it." She stared at him, her blue eyes narrowing as her +mind worked quickly. "I see now. Dr. Anstice is the man——"</p> + +<p>"Who shot Hilda Ryder." Cheniston finished her sentence for her calmly, +but she saw him whiten beneath his tan. "Yes. He is the man all right. +We met, once, in Bombay—afterwards. And now you know why our meeting +to-night was not calculated to give either of us any great pleasure."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I know now." She spoke slowly, almost meditatively. "And I know, +too, why he always looks so sad. Bruce, from the bottom of my heart I +pity that man."</p> + +<p>"You do?" Bruce's eyebrows rose. "I confess I don't see why you should +waste your pity on him. I think you might bestow a little more of it on +me—though it is rather late for pity now."</p> + +<p>"On you?" Slowly her blue gaze rested on his face. "Bruce, you don't +compare your position with his? Surely even you can understand that he +is a thousand times more to be pitied than you? I always thought there +was a tragedy in Dr. Anstice's life. But I never dreamed it was quite so +piteous as this."</p> + +<p>Bruce uttered an exclamation of impatience.</p> + +<p>"I didn't expect such sentimentality from you, Chloe. I gathered from +your conversation before dinner that you were pretty well disillusioned +by this time, and it rather surprises me to hear you pouring out your +compassion on a man like Anstice, who certainly doesn't strike me as +requiring any outside sympathy."</p> + +<p>For a moment there was silence, while Chloe played absently with a +bracelet she had just discarded. Then she said tranquilly:</p> + +<p>"You never were overburdened with brains, Bruce, though I grant you do +well in your own profession. But, if you fail to see the reason why Dr. +Anstice is deserving of more compassion than you I'm afraid it's +hopeless to expect anything very brilliant from you in the future."</p> + +<p>Cheniston's eyes darkened and his jaw set itself aggressively. For a +moment his sister found him an unfamiliar personality, and in her own +indifferent way asked herself whether after all she had ever known her +brother thoroughly.</p> + +<p>Then as she was considering the problem, and finding it mildly +attractive, Bruce turned on his heel and strode sulkily to the door.</p> + +<p>"Good night," he said angrily as he reached it. "You're in one of your +aggravating moods to-night, and it's no use me staying to talk to you."</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of use," she assented serenely; and her brother went out, +nearly falling over Tochatti, who was evidently about to seek admission +to her mistress's room.</p> + +<p>"Why on earth aren't you in bed, Tochatti?" His inward annoyance made +him speak harshly; but Tochatti apparently bore no resentment.</p> + +<p>She murmured something to which he paid scant attention; and then, +standing aside for him to pass her, she quietly entered the room he had +just quitted, and proceeded with her final duties for the night.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + + +<p>For two or three weeks after his meeting with Mrs. Carstairs' brother, +Anstice avoided both Cherry Orchard and Greengates.</p> + +<p>From a chance word in the village he had learned that Bruce Cheniston +was prolonging his visit to his sister; and that new and totally +unreasoning jealousy which had assailed Anstice as he saw Cheniston +bending over Iris Wayne at the piano told him with a horrid certainty +that to the girl herself belonged the responsibility for this change in +the young man's plans.</p> + +<p>In his calmer moments Anstice could not help admitting the suitability +of a friendship, at least, between the two. Although he had lost much of +his attractive boyishness Cheniston was a good-looking fellow enough; +and there was no denying the fact that he and Miss Wayne were a +well-matched pair so far as youth and vitality and general good looks +went; and yet Anstice could not visualize the pair together without a +fierce, wild pang of jealousy which pierced his heart with an almost +intolerable anguish.</p> + +<p>For he wanted Iris Wayne for himself. He loved her; and therein lay +tragedy; for he told himself miserably that he had no right to ask her +to couple her radiant young life with his, already overshadowed by that +past happening in India.</p> + +<p>Not only that, but he was already over thirty, she but eighteen; and Sir +Richard Wayne's daughter was only too well provided with this world's +goods, while he, with all his training, all his toil, was even yet a +comparatively poor man, with nothing to offer the girl in exchange for +the luxurious home from which he would fain take her.</p> + +<p>On every count he knew himself to be ineligible; and in the same flash +of insight he saw Bruce Cheniston, young, good-looking, distinguished in +his profession, in the receipt of a large salary; and owned to himself, +with that clarity of vision which rarely failed him, that Cheniston, +rather than he, was a fit suitor for Iris Wayne.</p> + +<p>On several occasions during those weeks of May he saw the two together; +and each time this happened he felt as though the sun had vanished from +the sky, as though the soft breezes of early summer were turned to the +cold and hopeless blast of an icy north-easter.</p> + +<p>Cheniston had a motor-bicycle on which he intended to explore the +district; and on finding a kindred spirit in Miss Wayne he had +inaugurated a series of expeditions in which she was his companion; +while Chloe Carstairs and Cherry would motor forth in the same direction +and share a picnic lunch at some wayside hostelry—an arrangement which +afforded unbounded pleasure to some members, at least, of the quartette.</p> + +<p>That Cheniston was strongly attracted by Iris, Anstice did not doubt. On +one unlucky Sunday he had received an invitation from Greengates, which, +delivered as it was in person by Sir Richard himself, could not have +been refused without discourtesy; and in the middle of the evening +Cheniston had dropped in casually with a message from his sister, and +had stayed on with an easy certainty of welcome which betokened a rapid +growth in favour with both father and daughter.</p> + +<p>What Iris' feelings towards the new-comer might be Anstice had no means +of discovering. Her manner towards him was delightfully girlish and +simple, and it was plain to see that she was fascinated by his accounts +of life in the wonderful Egypt which holds always so strong an +attraction for the romantic temperament; but with all her young +<i>insouciance</i> Iris Wayne was not one to wear her heart upon her sleeve; +and her friendliness never lost that touch of reticence, of unconscious +dignity which constituted, to Anstice, one of her greatest charms.</p> + +<p>Towards himself, as an older man and one whose life naturally ran on +contrasting lines, her manner was a little less assured, as though she +were not quite certain of her right to treat him as one on a level with +herself; but the tinge of girlish deference to which, as he guessed, his +profession entitled him in her eyes, was now and then coloured with +something else, with a hint of gentleness, not unlike compassion, which +was oddly, dangerously sweet to his sore and lonely heart.</p> + +<p>Somehow the idea of marriage had never previously entered his head. +Before the day which had, so to speak, cut his life in two, with a line +of cleavage dividing the careless past from the ever-haunted future, he +had been too busy, too much occupied in preparation for the brilliant +career which he felt would one day be his, to allow thoughts of marriage +to distract him from his chosen work. And since that fatal day, although +his old enthusiasm, his old belief in himself and his capabilities, had +long ago receded into the dim background, he had never consciously +thought of any amelioration of the loneliness, the bitter, regretful +solitude in which he now had his being.</p> + +<p>Yet the thought of Iris Wayne was oddly, uncomfortably distracting; and +in those weeks of May, during which he deliberately denied himself the +sight of her, Anstice's face grew haggard, his eyes more sunken beneath +their straight black brows.</p> + +<p>Yet Fate ordained that he should meet her, more, do her service; and the +meeting, with its subsequent conversation, was one which Iris at least +was destined never to forget.</p> + +<p>One grey and cloudy morning when the sun had forgotten to shine, and the +air was warm and moist, Anstice was driving his car along a country road +when he espied her sitting by the wayside with a rather woe-begone face.</p> + +<p>Her motor-bicycle was beside her and she was engaged in tying a knot, +with the fingers of her left hand aided by her teeth, in a +roughly-improvised bandage which hid her right wrist.</p> + +<p>On seeing his car she looked up; and something in the rather piteous +expression of her grey eyes made him slow down beside her.</p> + +<p>"What's wrong, Miss Wayne? Had a spill?"</p> + +<p>She answered him ruefully.</p> + +<p>"Yes. At least my motor skidded and landed me in the road. And I cut my +wrist on a sharp stone—look!"</p> + +<p>She held up a cruelly-jagged flint; and Anstice sprang out of his car +and approached her.</p> + +<p>"I say, what a horrid-looking thing! Let me see your wrist, may I? I +think you'd better let me bind it up for you."</p> + +<p>"Will you?" She held out her wrist obediently, and taking off the +handkerchief which bound it he saw that it was really badly cut, the +blood still dripping from the wound.</p> + +<p>"Ah, quite a nasty gash—it would really do with a stitch or two." He +hesitated, looking at her thoughtfully. "Miss Wayne, what's to be done? +You can't ride home like that, and yet we can hardly leave your +motor-bike on the roadside."</p> + +<p>He paused a second, his wits at work. Then his face cleared.</p> + +<p>"I know what we'll do," he said. "Round this corner is a cottage where a +patient of mine lives. We'll go in there, dispatch her son to look after +the bike till I patch you up, and then if you can't manage to ride home +we'll think of some other arrangement."</p> + +<p>Iris rose, gladly, from her lowly seat.</p> + +<p>"That's splendid, Dr. Anstice. I'm sure I can ride home if you will stop +this stupid bleeding."</p> + +<p>"Good." He liked her pluck. "Jump into my car and we'll go and interview +Mrs. Treble."</p> + +<p>"What an odd name!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, isn't it? And by a strange coincidence her maiden name was Bass!"</p> + +<p>Iris laughed, and a little colour came into her pale cheeks as they sped +swiftly round the corner in search of the oddly-named lady's abode.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Treble, who was engaged in hanging out the weekly washing in the +small garden, was all sympathy at the sight of the young lady's wounded +wrist, and invited them into the parlour and provided the basin of water +and other accessories for which Anstice asked with a cheerful bustle +which took no account of any trouble involved.</p> + +<p>When she had dispatched her son, an overgrown lad who had just left +school, to keep watch over the motor-cycle, Mrs. Treble requested the +doctor's leave to continue her work; and nothing loth, Anstice shut the +door upon her and gave his attention to his pale patient.</p> + +<p>He had brought in a small leather case from his car, and after cleansing +the wound he selected a needle and some fine wire in order to put in the +necessary stitches, watched the while by a pair of interested, if +somewhat apprehensive eyes.</p> + +<p>"I won't hurt you, Miss Wayne." Somehow he felt oddly reluctant to +inflict even a pinprick of pain on this particular patient. "I'm awfully +sorry, but I'm afraid I really must put in a couple of stitches. I'll be +as gentle as I can."</p> + +<p>Iris laughed, rather shamefacedly.</p> + +<p>"You think I am a coward," she said, "and you're quite right. I openly +confess I dread bearing pain, probably because I've never known anything +worse than toothache in my life!"</p> + +<p>"Toothache can be the very—er—deuce," he said. "I once had it myself, +and ever since then I've had the liveliest sympathy for any poor +victim!"</p> + +<p>"But there are so many other pains, so much worse, that it seems absurd +to talk of mere toothache as a real pain," she objected, and Anstice +laughed.</p> + +<p>"Quite so, but you must remember that the other 'real pains' have +alleviations which are denied to mere toothache. One's friends do at +least take the other things seriously, and offer sympathy as freely as +more potent remedies; while the sight of a swollen face is apt to cause +one's relations a quite heartless amusement!"</p> + +<p>"Well, it must be a consolation to be taken seriously," she said, "and I +do think sympathy is wonderfully cheering. Are all doctors as +sympathetic as you, Dr. Anstice?"</p> + +<p>For a moment Anstice suspected her of mockery. He was well aware that +for all his real sympathy with acute suffering he was not remarkable for +patience in cases of less reality; and he knew that the people whose +ailments belonged to the latter category were apt to find his manner +abrupt and unsympathetic.</p> + +<p>But a glance at Iris' face showed him she had spoken in good faith; and +he answered her in the same spirit.</p> + +<p>"There are a good many men in the world who are far more sympathetic +with suffering humanity than I, Miss Wayne." For a moment his face +clouded, and Iris noticed the change wonderingly. "I'm afraid my manner +isn't all it might be. It isn't that I'm not genuinely sorry for people +who are, or think themselves, ill; but ..." for a second he hesitated, +then a quite unusual impulse drove him into speech, "... the fact is, I +once had a knock-down blow myself; and curiously enough it seemed to +dull my capacity for entering into the sufferings of others."</p> + +<p>She took him up with unexpected comprehension.</p> + +<p>"I think I can understand that. It has always seemed to me that it is +not the people who have suffered who sympathize ... they understand, if +you know what I mean, but they aren't just sorry like the people who +haven't had any sorrows of their own to spend their pity on...."</p> + +<p>She broke off abruptly, and with equal abruptness Anstice suspended +operations to ask, with a solicitude which belied his earlier speech, +whether he were hurting her very badly.</p> + +<p>"No ... not at all ... at least, hardly at all," she answered honestly. +"I was just wishing I could explain myself better. Now take Mrs. +Carstairs, for instance." Iris knew that Chloe had told Anstice her +story. "She has suffered as very few people like her have to do, but I +don't think it has made her exactly what you call sympathetic."</p> + +<p>"That is just what I mean," said Anstice. "Somehow I think suffering is +apt to destroy one's nerve of sympathy for others. It atrophies, withers +away in the blast of one's personal tragedy; and although Mrs. Carstairs +might be able to enter into the feelings of another unhappy woman more +fully than—well, than you could do, I think you would be more likely to +feel what we call 'sorry for' that woman than she would be."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you agree with me," said Iris slowly. "Dr. Anstice, would you +think me very—impertinent—if I say I'm sorry you have +been—unhappy—too? I—somehow I always thought you"—she stopped, +flushed, but continued bravely—"you looked so sad sometimes I used to +wonder if you too had suffered, like poor Mrs. Carstairs."</p> + +<p>For a moment Anstice's fingers faltered in their task, and the girl's +heart missed a beat as she wondered whether she had said too much.</p> + +<p>Then:</p> + +<p>"Miss Wayne"—Anstice's voice reassured her even while it filled her +with a kind of wondering foreboding—"I should never find any +impertinence in any interest <i>you</i> might be kind enough to express. I +have suffered—bitterly—and the worst of my suffering lies in the fact +that others—one other at least besides myself—were involved in the ill +I unwittingly wrought."</p> + +<p>Again her answer surprised him by the depth of comprehension it +conveyed.</p> + +<p>"That, too, I can understand," said Iris gently. "I have often tried to +imagine how one must feel when one has unknowingly harmed another +person; and it has always seemed to me that one would feel as one does +when one has spoken unkindly, or impatiently, at least, to a child."</p> + +<p>For a second Anstice busied himself in bandaging the slim wrist he held. +Then, without looking up, he said:</p> + +<p>"You have thought more deeply than many girls of your age, Miss Wayne. I +wonder if you would extend your pity to me if you knew the nature of my +particular tragedy."</p> + +<p>A sudden spatter of rain against the window-pane made them both look up +in surprise; and in a lighter tone Anstice said:</p> + +<p>"A sharp shower, I see. I've finished my work, you'll be glad to hear, +but I think it will be wiser to wait here till the rain's over. Will +your cycle take any harm?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, it can be dried at home," said Iris rather absently; and both +of them were too much preoccupied to expend any of their talked-of +sympathy on the overgrown youth patiently guarding the motor by the +roadside.</p> + +<p>"Come and try an easier chair, won't you?" Anstice pushed forward a +capacious rocking-chair and Iris took it obediently, while Anstice +leaned against the table regarding her rather curiously.</p> + +<p>"Miss Wayne." Suddenly he felt a quite overwhelming desire to admit this +girl into his jealously-guarded confidence. "From something you said +just now I gathered that you had been good enough to spare a thought for +me now and then. Does that mean that your kindness would extend so far +as to allow you to listen to a very short story in which I, +unfortunately, am the principal character?"</p> + +<p>"I am ready to listen to anything you care to tell me," she said gently; +and looking into her steadfast grey eyes Anstice told himself that a man +could desire no sweeter, more trustworthy confidante.</p> + +<p>"Well"—he sighed—"here is the story. Once, in India, I found myself in +a tight place, with a woman, a girl, who was almost a perfect stranger +to me. We had unwittingly trespassed into a native Temple, and the +penalty for such trespass was—death."</p> + +<p>He paused a second, wondering whether she had heard Bruce Cheniston's +story; but although there was deep interest there was no recognition in +her quiet attention; and he hurried on.</p> + +<p>"She—the girl—made me promise not to allow her to fall into the hands +of the natives. Whether she was correct in her fears of what might +happen to her I don't know; but I confess I shared them at the time. +Anyhow I promised that if help did not come before dawn—we were to die +at sunrise—I would shoot her with my own hand."</p> + +<p>Again he paused; and the horror in Iris' grey eyes deepened.</p> + +<p>"Well, help did come—ten minutes too late. I was standing with my back +against the wall, the guns were levelled at my heart, when the rescuers +burst into the courtyard and the natives fled. But I had shot the girl +ten minutes earlier...."</p> + +<p>Anstice's brow was wet with drops of sweat as he finished, his whole +being convulsed with reminiscent agony; and he turned aside lest he +should read shrinking, or worse, condemnation in the grey eyes which had +never left his face.</p> + +<p>There was a silence in which to the man who waited the whole world +seemed to halt upon its axis, as though aghast at the brief recital +which was almost Greek in its sense of inevitable tragedy; and for a +wild, hateful moment Anstice told himself that for all her boasted +comprehension Iris had not the power to understand the full force of the +situation.</p> + +<p>Then, suddenly, he found her beside him. She had left her chair, +noiselessly, as he turned away, and now she was standing close to him, +her hand on his arm, her grey eyes, full of the sweetest, most divine +compassion, seeking his ravaged face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you poor thing!" The pity in her voice made it sound like the +softest music. "What a dreadfully sad story; and how you must have +suffered. But"—her kind little hand tightened on his arm—"why should +you reproach yourself so bitterly? You did the only thing it was +possible for you to do. No man living could have done anything else."</p> + +<p>He turned to her now, and he had recaptured his self-control.</p> + +<p>"It is sweet—and kind—of you to say just that." Even now his voice was +not quite steady. "And if I could believe it—but all the time I tell +myself if I had only waited ... there would perhaps have been a +chance ... I was too quick, too ready to obey her request, to carry out +my promise...."</p> + +<p>"No, Dr. Anstice." In Iris' voice was a womanliness which showed his +story had reached the depths of her being. "I'm quite certain that's the +wrong way to look at it. As things were, there was nothing else to be +done, <i>nothing</i>. If I had been the girl," said Iris quietly, "I should +have thought you very cruel if you had broken your promise to me."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes," he said, slowly; "but you see there is another factor in the +case which I haven't told you—yet. She was engaged to be married—and +by acting prematurely I destroyed the hopes of the man who loved +her—whom she loved to the last second of her life."</p> + +<p>This time Iris was silent so long that he went on speaking with an +attempt at a lighter tone.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's the story—and a pretty gloomy one, isn't it? But I have +no right to inflict my private sorrows on you, and so——"</p> + +<p>She interrupted him as though she had not heard his last words.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice, when you realized what had happened, what did you do? I +mean, when you came back to England? I suppose you did come back, after +that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I had an interview with the man—the girl's <i>fiancé</i> and came +home." He shrugged his shoulders, a bitter memory chasing away the +softer emotions of the preceding moment. "What did I do? Well, I did +what a dozen other fellows might have done in my place. I sought +forgetfulness of the past by various means, tried to drown the thought +of what had happened in every way I could, and merely succeeded in +delivering myself over to a bondage a hundred times more terrible than +that from which I was trying to escape."</p> + +<p>For the first time Iris looked perplexed.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I understand," she said, and again Anstice's face +changed.</p> + +<p>"No," he said, and his voice was gentle, "of course you don't. And +there's no reason why you should. Let us leave the matter at that, Miss +Wayne. I am grateful to you for listening so patiently to my story."</p> + +<p>"Ah," she said, and her eyes were wistful, "but I should like to know +what you meant just now. Won't you tell me? Or do you think I am too +stupid to understand?"</p> + +<p>"No. But I think you are too young," he said; and the girl coloured.</p> + +<p>"Of course if you would rather not——"</p> + +<p>Something in her manner made him suddenly change his mind.</p> + +<p>"There is no reason why I should make a mystery of it," he said. "I +hesitated about telling you because—well, for various reasons; but +after all you might as well know the truth. I tried to win forgetfulness +by the aid of drugs—morphia, to be exact."</p> + +<p>He had startled her now.</p> + +<p>"You took morphia——?" Her voice was dismayed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, for nearly six months I gave myself up to it. I told myself there +was no real danger for me—I knew the peril of it so well. I wasn't like +the people who go in ignorantly for the thing; and find themselves bound +hand and foot, their lives in ruins round them. That is what I thought, +in my folly." He sighed, and his face looked careworn. "Well, I soon +found out that I was just like other people after all. I went into the +thing, thinking I should find a way out of my troubles. And I was +wrong."</p> + +<p>"You gave it up?" Her voice was suddenly anxious.</p> + +<p>"Yes. In the nick of time I came across an old friend—a friend of my +student days, who had been looking for me, unknown to me, for months. He +wanted me to do some research work for him—work that necessitated +visiting hospitals in Paris and Berlin and Vienna—and I accepted the +commission only too gladly."</p> + +<p>"And—you gave up the terrible thing?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. The new interest saved me, you know. I came back, after some +months of hard work, and found my friend on the eve of starting with an +expedition for Central Africa, to study tropical diseases; and had there +been a place for me I would have gone too. But there wasn't; and I was a +bit fagged, so after doing locum work for another friend for some time I +looked about for a practice, bought this one—and here I am."</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice "—she spoke shyly, though her eyes met his bravely—"you +won't ever take that dreadful stuff again, will you? I am quite sure," +said Iris Wayne, "that <i>that</i> is not the way out."</p> + +<p>"No," he answered steadily, "you are quite right. It isn't. But I haven't +found the way out yet." He paused a moment; then held out his hand, and +she put her uninjured left hand into it rather wonderingly. "Still, I +will not seek that way out again. I will promise—no, I won't promise, +for I'm only human and I couldn't bear to break a promise to <i>you</i>—but +I will do my best to avoid the deadly thing for the rest of my life."</p> + +<p>He pressed her hand gently, then dropped it as a sudden loud knock +sounded on the door.</p> + +<p>"Come in." They turned to see who the visitor might be; and to the +surprise of both in walked Bruce Cheniston, an unmistakable frown on his +face.</p> + +<p>"Hullo! It is you, after all, Iris!" Anstice noted the use of her +Christian name, and in the same moment remembered there was a +long-standing friendship between the families. "I thought it was your +motor-cycle I found by the roadside, with a lanky yokel mounting guard +over it; and he said something about an accident——"</p> + +<p>"Nothing very serious." Iris smiled at him in friendly fashion, and his +face cleared. "I skidded—or the bicycle did—and I fell off and cut my +wrist."</p> + +<p>"I found Miss Wayne sitting by the roadside binding up her wound," +interposed Anstice rather coldly, "and persuaded her to come in here and +have it properly seen to. If it had not been for the rain she would have +been on her way home by now."</p> + +<p>"I see. It was lucky you passed." Evidently Iris' presence prevented any +display of hostility. "Well, the rain is over now, but"—he glanced at +Iris' bandaged wrist—"you oughtn't to ride home if you're disabled. +What do you say, Dr. Anstice?"</p> + +<p>"I think, seeing it is the right wrist, it would be neither wise nor +easy for Miss Wayne to ride," said Anstice professionally, and Cheniston +nodded.</p> + +<p>"Well, we will leave the cycle here, and send one of the men for it +presently," he said. "Luckily I have got Chloe's car, and I can soon run +you over, Iris. I suppose that is your motor outside?" he added, turning +to Anstice with sudden briskness.</p> + +<p>"Yes." Anstice glanced towards the window. "It is fine now, and I must +be off, at any rate."</p> + +<p>He packed the things he had used back into their little case, and turned +towards the door.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Miss Wayne. I hope your wrist won't give you any further +pain."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Dr. Anstice." She held out her left hand with a smile. "Ever +so many thanks. I don't know what I should have done if you had not +passed just then!"</p> + +<p>The trio went out together, after a word to the mistress of the cottage; +and Bruce helped Iris into the car with an air of proprietorship which +did not escape the notice of the other man.</p> + +<p>"Hadn't you better start first, Dr. Anstice?" Cheniston spoke with cool +courtesy. "Your time is more valuable than ours, no doubt!"</p> + +<p>"Thanks. Yes, I haven't time to waste." His tone was equally cool. "Good +morning, Miss Wayne. 'Morning, Cheniston."</p> + +<p>A moment later he had started his engine; and in yet another moment his +car was out of sight round the corner of the road.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + + +<p>After the episode in the wayside cottage on that showery morning of May +Anstice made no further attempt to avoid Iris Wayne.</p> + +<p>The way in which she had received his story had lifted a weight off his +mind. She had not shrunk from him, as in his morbid distrust he had +fancied possible. Rather she had shown him only the sweetest, kindest +pity; and it seemed to him that on the occasion of their next meeting +she had greeted him with a new warmth in her manner which was surely +intended to convey to him the fact that she had appreciated the +confidence he had bestowed upon her.</p> + +<p>Besides—like the rest of us Anstice was a sophist at heart—the +kindness with which Sir Richard Wayne had consistently treated him was +surely deserving of gratitude at least.</p> + +<p>It would be discourteous, if nothing more, to refuse his invitations +save when the press of work precluded their acceptance; and so it came +about that Anstice once more entered the hospitable doors which guarded +Greengates, incidentally making the acquaintance of Lady Laura Wells, +Sir Richard's widowed sister, who kept house for him with admirable +skill, if at times with rather overbearing imperiousness.</p> + +<p>Sir Richard, for all his years, was hale and hearty and loved a game of +tennis; so that when once Iris' wrist was healed there were many keenly +contested games during the long, light evenings—games in which Iris, +partnered either by Cheniston or Anstice, darted about the court like a +young Diana in her short white skirt and blouse open at the neck to +display the firm, round throat which was one of her greatest charms.</p> + +<p>The antagonism between Anstice and Bruce Cheniston deepened steadily +during these golden summer days. Had they met in different +circumstances, had there been no question, however vague and undefined, +of rivalry between them, it is possible there would have been no +positive hostility in their mutual attitude. Any genuine friendship was +naturally debarred, seeing the nature of the memory they shared in +common; but it would have been conceivably possible for them to have met +and recognized one another's existence with a neutrality which would +have covered a real but harmless distaste for each other's society.</p> + +<p>Having been forced, by an unkind Fate, into a position in which each saw +in the other a possible rival, any neutrality was out of the question. +It had not taken Anstice long to discover that Cheniston had so far +recovered from the loss of Hilda Ryder as to consider the possibility of +making another woman his wife; nor had Cheniston's eyes been less keen.</p> + +<p>He had very quickly discovered that Anstice was in love with pretty +Iris; and instantly a fire of opposition sprang into fierce flame in his +heart; and to himself he said that this man, having once deprived him of +his chosen woman, should not again be permitted to come between him and +his desire.</p> + +<p>True, he did not profess to love Iris Wayne as he had loved Hilda Ryder; +for no other woman in the world could ever fill the place in his life +left vacant by that untimely shot in the dawn of an Indian day.</p> + +<p>Until the hour in which he learned of Miss Ryder's tragic death Bruce +Cheniston had been an ordinary easy-going youth, cleverer in some ways +than the average man, on a level with most as regarded his outlook on +life and its possibilities. He had never been very deeply moved over +anything. Things had always gone smoothly with him, and he had passed +through school and college with quite passable success and complete +satisfaction in himself and his surroundings. His love for Hilda Ryder +was the best and highest thing in his whole life; and in his attempt to +become what she believed him to be he rose to a higher mental and moral +stature than he had ever before attained.</p> + +<p>And then had come the tragedy which had deprived him at once of the girl +he had loved and the incentive to a better, worthier manhood which her +love had supplied. For her sake he could have done much, could have +vanquished all the petty failings, the selfish weaknesses which marred +his not otherwise unattractive character; but when Hilda Ryder vanished +from his life he lost something which he never regained.</p> + +<p>He grew older, harder, more cynical. His sunny boyishness, which had +effectually masked the cold determination beneath, dropped from him as a +discarded garment; and the real man, the man whose possibilities Hilda +Ryder had dimly presaged and had resolved to conquer, came to the +surface.</p> + +<p>He felt, perhaps naturally, that he had a grudge against Fate; and the +immediate result was to eliminate all softness from his character, and +replace such amiable weakness by a harsh determination to shape his life +henceforth to his own design, if indeed strength of purpose and a +relentless lack of consideration for any other living being could +compass such an end.</p> + +<p>Fate had beaten him once. He was determined such victory should be +final; and during the last few years Bruce Cheniston had been known as a +man who invariably achieved his object in whatever direction such +achievement lay—a man of whom his friends prophesied that he would +surely go far; while his enemies, a small number, certainly, for on the +whole he was popular, labelled him ruthless in the pursuit of his +particular aims.</p> + +<p>Perhaps he was not to blame for the metamorphosis which followed Hilda +Ryder's death. For the first time he had loved a human being better than +himself; so that the reaction which fell upon his spirit when he +realized that his love was no longer needed was in its very nature +severe.</p> + +<p>Never again would he rise to the height of greatness to which his love +for Hilda Ryder had raised him; and whatever the quality of any +affection he might in future bestow upon a woman, the spark of +immortality, of selflessness, which had undoubtedly inspired his first +and truest love, would never again be kindled in his heart.</p> + +<p>Yet in his way Bruce was attracted to Iris Wayne. On their last meeting +she had been a little schoolgirl, a pretty creature, certainly, but not +to be compared with the beautiful and gracious Hilda, to whom he was +newly betrothed. Yet now, on meeting her again, he was bound to confess +that Iris was wonderfully attractive; and in a strangely short period of +time he came, by imperceptible degrees, to look upon her as a possible +successor to the woman he had lost.</p> + +<p>The fact that Anstice too found her desirable was stimulating. One of +Cheniston's newly-acquired characteristics was a tendency to covet any +object on which another had set his heart; and although in matters of +business this trait was possibly excusable enough, in this instance it +seemed likely to prove fatal to Anstice's happiness.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Which of the two men Iris herself preferred it would have taken a +magician to understand.</p> + +<p>With Bruce she was always her gayest self, plying him with eager +questions concerning his life in Egypt; and she was quite evidently +flattered by the pains he took to charm and interest her with his +picturesque narratives of experiences in the land of the Nile. He was, +moreover, at her service at all times, always ready to take her +motor-cycling, or to play tennis or golf with her; and although Iris was +as free from vanity as any girl could possibly be, it was not unpleasing +to her youthful self-esteem to find a man like Cheniston over ready at +her beck and call.</p> + +<p>With Anstice she was quieter, shyer, more serious; yet Sir Richard, who +watched the trio, as it were from afar, had a suspicion sometimes that +the Iris whom Anstice knew was a more real, more genuine person than the +gay and frivolous girl who laughed through the sunny hours with the +younger man.</p> + +<p>So the days passed on; and if Anstice was once more living in a fools' +Paradise, this time the key which unlocked the Gate of Dreams was made +of purest gold.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In the middle of July Iris was to celebrate the eighteenth anniversary +of her birth; and rather to Anstice's dismay he found that the event was +to be marked by a large and festive merry-making—nothing less, in fact, +than a dinner-party, followed by a dance to be held in the rarely-used +ballroom for which Greengates had been once famous.</p> + +<p>"You'll come, of course, Dr. Anstice?" Iris asked the question one sunny +afternoon as she prepared an iced drink for her visitor, after a +strenuous game of tennis. "You do dance, don't you? For my part I could +dance for ever."</p> + +<p>"I do dance, yes," he said, taking the tumbler she held out to him, with +a word of thanks. "But I don't think a ball is exactly in my line +nowadays."</p> + +<p>"It's not a ball," she said gaily. "Aunt Laura doesn't approve of oven a +dance, seeing I'm not really 'out' till I've been presented next +year—but Dad has been a perfect dear and says we can dance as long as +we like down here where none of our London relations can see us!"</p> + +<p>"Well, dance or ball, I suppose it will be a large affair?" He smiled at +her, and she told herself that he grew younger every day.</p> + +<p>"About a hundred and fifty, I suppose," she said lightly. "The room holds +two hundred, but a crowded room is hateful—though an empty one would be +almost worse. Anyhow, you are invited, first of all. Dinner is at seven, +because we want to start dancing at nine. Will you come?"</p> + +<p>Just for a second he hesitated. Then:</p> + +<p>"Of course I'll come," he said recklessly. "But you must promise me at +least three dances, or I shall plead an urgent telephone call and fly in +the middle!"</p> + +<p>"Three!" Her grey eyes laughed into his. "That's rather greedy! +Well—I'll give you two, and—perhaps—an extra."</p> + +<p>"That's a promise," he said, and taking out a small notebook he made an +entry therein. "And now, in view of coming frivolities, I must go and +continue my day's work."</p> + +<p>He rose and looked round the lovely old garden rather regretfully.</p> + +<p>"How lucky you are to be able to spend the summer days in such a cool, +shady spot as this! I wish you could see some of the stuffy cottages I +go into round here—windows hermetically sealed, and even the +fireplaces, when there are any, blocked up!"</p> + +<p>She looked at him rather strangely.</p> + +<p>"Do you know. Dr. Anstice," she said, irrelevantly, it seemed, "I don't +believe you ought to be a doctor. Oh, I don't mean you aren't very +clever—and kind—but somehow I don't believe you were meant to spend +your days going in and out of stuffy cottages and attending to little +village children with measles and whooping-cough!"</p> + +<p>"Don't you?" Anstice leaned against the trunk of the big cedar under +which she sat, and apparently forgot the need for haste. "To tell you +the truth I sometimes wonder to find myself here. When I was younger, +you know, I never intended to go in for general practice. I had dreams, +wild dreams of specializing. I was ambitious, and intended making some +marvellous discovery which should revolutionize medical science...."</p> + +<p>He broke off abruptly, and when he spoke again his voice held the old +bitter note which she had not heard of late.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's all over. I lost ambition when I lost everything else, and +now I suppose I shall go on to the end of the chapter as a general +practitioner, attending old women in stuffy cottages, and children with +measles and whooping-cough!"</p> + +<p>He laughed; but Iris' face was grave.</p> + +<p>"But, Dr. Anstice"—she spoke rather slowly—"isn't it possible for +you to go back to those dreams and ambitions? Suppose you were to +start again—to try once more to make the discovery you speak of. +Mightn't it ..." her voice faltered a moment, but her grey eyes were +steady, "... mightn't that be the way out—for you?"</p> + +<p>There was a sudden silence, broken only by the cooing of a wood-pigeon +in a tall tree close at hand. Then Anstice said thoughtfully:</p> + +<p>"I wonder? Supposing that were the way out, after all?"</p> + +<p>Ha gazed at her with a long and steady gaze which was yet oddly +impersonal, and she met his eyes bravely, though the carnation flush +deepened in her cheeks. Just as she opened her lips to reply a new voice +broke upon their ears.</p> + +<p>"Good afternoon, Iris. Am I too late for a game of tennis?"</p> + +<p>Bruce Cheniston, racquet in hand, had come round the corner of the +shrubbery, and as she heard his voice Iris turned to him swiftly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, good afternoon! You are late, aren't you? We waited for you ever so +long, then as you did not come Dr. Anstice and I played a single."</p> + +<p>"Oh." He looked rather curiously at the other man. "Which was the +victor? You?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dr. Anstice always beats me!" Iris laughed. "You and I are more +evenly matched, Bruce—though I confess you generally win."</p> + +<p>"Well, come and have a sett before the light goes." He glanced again at +Anstice. "Unless Anstice is giving you your revenge?"</p> + +<p>"No, I'm off." Anstice straightened himself and held out his hand. +"Good-bye, Miss Wayne. Thanks so much for our game."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye." She smiled at him with a hint of mischief in her eyes. "You +won't forget the fifteenth? I shan't believe any excuses about urgent +cases!"</p> + +<p>He smiled too.</p> + +<p>"I shan't tax your credulity," he said, "and I hope you won't forget +your promise!"</p> + +<p>Their mutual smile, and the hint of an understanding between them which +Anstice's last words, perhaps intentionally, conveyed, brought a frown +to Cheniston's bronzed forehead.</p> + +<p>"Oh, by the way, Anstice"—he spoke very deliberately, looking the other +man full in the face the while—"I want to have a chat with you—on a +matter of some little importance to us both. When are you likely to be +at liberty?"</p> + +<p>The brightness died from Anstice's face; and when he answered his voice +was devoid of any note of youth.</p> + +<p>"I am generally at liberty late in the evening," he said coolly. "If the +matter is important I can see you at nine o clock to-night. You'll come +to my place?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks." Bruce took out his cigarette case and having selected a +cigarette handed the case to the other. "Then, if convenient to you, I +will be round at nine this evening."</p> + +<p>"Very good." Anstice declined a cigarette rather curtly. "If I should be +unavoidably detained elsewhere I will ring you up."</p> + +<p>"Right." Bruce picked up his racquet and turned to Iris as though to say +the subject was closed. "Are you ready, Iris? You like this side best, I +know."</p> + +<p>And, with a sudden premonition of evil at his heart, Anstice turned away +and left them together in the sunny garden.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + + +<p>"Well, Dr. Anstice, I have come, as you see."</p> + +<p>Cheniston entered the room on the stroke of nine, and Anstice turned +from the window with an oddly reluctant movement.</p> + +<p>The golden day was dying, slowly, in the west. In the clear green sky +one or two silver stars shone steadily, and in the little garden beyond +the house the white moths circled eagerly round the tall yellow evening +primroses which reared arrogant heads among their sleeping brother and +sister flowers.</p> + +<p>Anstice's room was lighted only by a couple of candles, placed on the +writing-table; but neither man desired a brilliant light +to-night—Anstice because he realized that this interview was a fateful +one, Cheniston because, although he had come here with the intention of +making havoc of a man's life, he was not particularly anxious to watch +that man's face during the process.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I see you have come." Anstice pointed to a chair. "Sit down, won't +you? And will you have a drink?"</p> + +<p>"No, thanks." Somehow Anstice's manner made Cheniston feel +uncomfortable; and it was suddenly impossible to accept hospitality of +any kind from his rival.</p> + +<p>"Well?" As Cheniston made no attempt to seat himself, Anstice, too, +stood upright, and the two faced one another with the lighted candles +between them.</p> + +<p>"I wonder——" Cheniston drew out his cigarette case and selected a +cigarette, which he proceeded to light with extreme care. "I wonder if +you have any idea what I have come to say?"</p> + +<p>On his side Anstice took a cigarette from an open box before him, but he +did not light it, yet.</p> + +<p>"I was never very good at guessing conundrums," he said coolly. "Suppose +you tell me, without more ado, why you have—honoured me to-night?"</p> + +<p>His tone, the deliberate pause before he uttered the word, showed +Cheniston plainly that his motive was suspected, and his manner +hardened.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you, as you wish, without more ado," he said. "Only—it is +always a little awkward to introduce a lady's name."</p> + +<p>"Awkward, yes; and sometimes unnecessary." Anstice's eyes, stern beneath +their level brows, met the other man's in a definitely hostile gaze. +"Are you quite sure it is necessary now?"</p> + +<p>"I think so." His tone was every whit as hostile. "The lady to whom I +refer is, as you have doubtless guessed by now, Miss Wayne."</p> + +<p>"I gathered as much from your manner." Anstice spoke coldly. "Well? I +really don't see why Miss Wayne's name should be mentioned between us, +but——"</p> + +<p>"Don't you?" Cheniston's blue eyes gleamed in his brown face. "I think +you do. Look here, Anstice. There is nothing to be gained by hedging. +Let us fight fair and square, gloves off, if you like, and acknowledge +that we both admire and respect Miss Wayne very deeply."</p> + +<p>"I quite agree with that." Anstice's eyes, too, began to glitter. +"And—having said so much, what then?"</p> + +<p>"Well, having cleared the ground so far, suppose we go a little further. +I think—you will correct me if I am wrong in my surmise—I think I am +right in saying that we both cherish a dream in regard to Miss Wayne."</p> + +<p>His unexpected phraseology made Anstice pause before he replied. There +was a touch of pathos, an unlooked-for poetry about the words which +seemed to intimate that whatever his attitude towards the world in +general, Cheniston's regard for Iris Wayne was no light thing; and when +he replied Anstice's voice had lost a little of its hostility.</p> + +<p>"As to your dreams I can say nothing," he said quietly. "For mine—well, +a man's dreams are surely his own."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, when they interfere with no other man's visions." Bruce +hesitated a moment. "But in this case—look here, Anstice, once before +you shattered a dream of mine, broke it into a thousand fragments; and +by so doing took something from my life which can never be replaced. I +think you understand my meaning?"</p> + +<p>White to the lips Anstice answered him:</p> + +<p>"Yes. I do understand. And if ever a man regretted the breaking of a +dream I have regretted it. But——"</p> + +<p>"Wait." Cheniston interrupted him ruthlessly. "Hear me out. It is three +years since that day in India when the woman I loved died by your hand. +Oh"—Anstice had made an involuntary movement—"I am not here to heap +blame upon you. I have since recognized that you could have done nothing +else——"</p> + +<p>"For that, at least, I thank you," said Anstice bitterly.</p> + +<p>"But you can't deny you did me an ill turn on that fatal morning. +And"—Cheniston threw away his cigarette impatiently—"are you prepared +to make amends—now—or not?"</p> + +<p>For a second Anstice's heart seemed to stop beating. Then it throbbed +fiercely on again, for he knew he had guessed Bruce Cheniston's meaning.</p> + +<p>"Make amends?" He spoke slowly to gain time. "Will you explain just what +you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly." Yet for all his ready reply Cheniston hesitated. "I +mean—we're both of us in love with Iris Wayne. Oh"—Anstice had +muttered something—"let's be honest, anyway. As to which—if either—of +us she prefers, I'm as much in the dark as you. But"—his voice was cold +and hard as iron—"having robbed me of one chance of happiness, are you +going to rob me—try to rob me—of another?"</p> + +<p>In the silence which followed his last words a big brown moth, attracted +by the yellow candlelight, blundered into the room, and began to flutter +madly round the unresponsive flame; and in the poignant hush the beating +of his foolish wings sounded loudly, insistently.</p> + +<p>Then Anstice spoke very quietly.</p> + +<p>"You mean I am to stand aside and let you have a fair field with the +lady?" He could not bring himself to mention her name.</p> + +<p>"Yes. That's just what I do mean." Cheniston spoke defiantly—or so it +seemed to the man who listened.</p> + +<p>Again the silence fell, and again the only sound to be heard was the +soft flutter of the brown wings as the moth circled vainly round the +candle flame which would inevitably prove fatal to him by and by.</p> + +<p>"I see." Anstice's face was very pale now. "At least you do me the +honour of looking upon me in the light of a possible rival."</p> + +<p>"I do—and I'll go further," said Cheniston suddenly. "I have an +uncomfortable notion that if you tried you could cut me out. Oh—I'm not +sure"—he regretted the admission as soon as it was made—"after all, +Miss Wayne and I are excellent friends, and upon my soul I sometimes +dare to think I have a chance. But she has a great regard for you, I +know, and if you really set out to win her——"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you overrate my capabilities," said Anstice rather +cynically. "Miss Wayne has certainly never given me the slightest reason +to suppose she would be ready to listen to me, did I overstep the bounds +of friendship."</p> + +<p>"Of course not!" Cheniston smiled grimly. "Miss Wayne is not the sort of +girl to give any man encouragement. But as a man of honour, +Anstice"—again his voice cut like steel—"don't you think I have the +prior right to the first innings, so to speak?"</p> + +<p>"You mean I am to stand aside, efface myself, and let you chip in before +me?" His colloquial speech accorded badly with his formal tone. "I quite +see your point of view; and no doubt you think yourself justified in +your demand; but still——"</p> + +<p>"I do think I'm justified, yes," broke in Cheniston coolly. "After all, +if one man has a precious stone, a diamond, let us say, and another man +manages to lose it, well in the unlikely event of the two of them +discovering another stone, which of them has the best right to the new +one?"</p> + +<p>"That's a pretty ingenious simile," said Anstice slowly. "But it's a +false premise all the same. The diamond would naturally have no voice in +the matter of its ownership. But the woman in the case might reasonably +be expected to have the power of choice."</p> + +<p>"But that's just what I'm anxious to avoid." So much in earnest was the +speaker that he did not realize the fatuity of his words till they were +out of his mouth. Then he uttered an impatient exclamation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, hang it all, don't let's stand here arguing. You see the point, +that's enough. I honestly feel that since it was through you that I lost +Hilda Ryder"—even though he was prepared to woo another woman his voice +softened over the name—"it will be doubly hard if you are to come +between me and the only other girl I've ever put in Miss Ryder's place."</p> + +<p>"I see the point, as I said before," returned Anstice deliberately. "But +what I don't see is the justice of it. You've admitted I was not to +blame in doing what I did that day; yet in the same breath in which you +acquit me of the crime you expect me to pay the penalty!"</p> + +<p>For a second this logical argument took Cheniston aback. Then, for his +heart was set on winning Iris Wayne, he condescended to plead.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I admit all that—and I can see I haven't a leg to stand on. +But—morally—or in a spiritual sense so to speak, don't you think +yourself that I have just the shadow of a right to ask you to stand +aside?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." His assent was unflinching, though his lips were white. "You have +that right, and that's why I'm listening to you to-night. But—don't you +think we are both taking a wrong view of the matter? What faintest +grounds have we for supposing Miss Wayne will listen to either of us?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's not an insurmountable obstacle." Cheniston saw the victory +was won, and in an instant he was awake to the expediency of clinching +the matter finally. "We don't know, of course, that she will listen +either to me or to you. But for my part I am ready to take my chance. +And"—at the last moment the inherent honesty of the man came to the +surface through all the unscrupulous bargain he was driving—"my chance +is a hundred times better if you withdraw from the contest."</p> + +<p>"I see." With an effort Anstice crushed down the tide of revolt which +swept over his heart. "As you say, I owe you something for that evil +turn I did you, unwittingly, in India. And if you fix this as the price +of my debt I suppose, as an honourable man, there is nothing for me to +do but to pay that price."</p> + +<p>Bruce Cheniston looked away quickly. Somehow he did not care to meet the +other man's eyes at that moment.</p> + +<p>"One thing only I would like to ask of you." Anstice's manner was not +that of a man asking a favour. "If Miss Wayne remains impervious to your +entreaties"—Cheniston coloured angrily, suspecting sarcasm—"will you +be good enough to let me know?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly." Cheniston was suddenly anxious to leave the house, to quit +the presence of this man who spoke so quietly even while his black eyes +flamed in his haggard face. "I will try my luck at once—within the next +week or two. See here, Miss Wayne's birthday dance comes off shortly. +If, after that, I have not won her consent, I will quit the field. Is +that fair?"</p> + +<p>"Quite fair." Suddenly Anstice laughed harshly. "And you think I can +then step forward and try my luck. Why, you fool, can't you see that for +both of us this is the psychological moment—that the man who hangs back +now is lost? I am to wait in the background while you go forward and +seize the golden minute? Well"—his voice had a bitter ring—"I've +agreed, and you've got your way; but for God's sake go before I repent +of the bargain."</p> + +<p>Cheniston, startled by his manner, moved backward suddenly; and a chair +went over with a crash which set the nerves of both men jarring.</p> + +<p>"When you've quite done smashing my furniture"—Anstice's jocularity was +savage—"perhaps you'll be good enough to clear out. I won't pretend I'm +anxious for more of your company to-night!"</p> + +<p>Cheniston picked up the chair, and placed it against the table with +quite meticulous care.</p> + +<p>"I'll go." He suddenly felt as though the man who stood opposite, the +flame from the candles flickering over his face with an odd effect of +light and shadow, had after all come off the best in this horrible +interview. "I—I suppose it's no use saying any more, Anstice. You know, +after all"—in spite of his words he felt an irresistible inclination to +justify himself—"you do owe me something——"</p> + +<p>"Well? Have I denied it?" Now his tone was coldly dangerous. "I have +promised to pay a debt which after all was incurred quite blamelessly; +but if you expect me to enter into further details of the transaction, +you are out in your reckoning."</p> + +<p>"I see." Suddenly the resentment which Cheniston had felt for this man +since their first meeting flamed into active hatred. "Well, I have your +word, and that's enough. As you say, this is a business transaction, and +the less said the better. Good night."</p> + +<p>He turned abruptly away and plunged through the shadowy room towards the +door. As he reached it, Anstice spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Cheniston." There was a note in his voice which no other man of +Anstice's acquaintance had ever heard. "In proposing this bargain, this +payment of a debt, I think you show yourself a hard and a pitiless +creditor. But if, in these circumstances, you fail to win Miss Wayne, I +shall think you are a fool—a damned fool—as well. That's all. Good +night."</p> + +<p>Without, another word Cheniston opened the door and went out, letting it +fall to behind him with a bang. And Anstice, left alone, extinguished +both candles impatiently, as though he could not bear even their feeble +light; and going to the open window stood gazing out over the starlit +garden with eyes which saw nothing of the green peacefulness without.</p> + +<p>And on the table, the big brown moth, scorched to death by his adored +flame in the very moment of his most passionate delight, fluttered his +burnt wings feebly and lay still.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + + +<p>Having given Cheniston his word, Anstice set himself to carry out his +share of the bargain with a thoroughness which did not preclude a very +bitter regret that he had made this fatal promise.</p> + +<p>As he had been of late in the habit of spending a good deal of time in +the society of Iris Wayne, it was only natural that his absence should +cause comment at Greengates; but while Lady Laura openly labelled +Anstice as capricious and inclined to rate his own value too highly, Sir +Richard more charitably supposed that the poor fellow was overworked; +and Iris, after a day or two spent in futile conjecture as to the sudden +cessation of his visits, accepted the fact of Anstice's defection with a +composure which was a little hurt.</p> + +<p>She had thought they were such friends. Once or twice she had even +fancied he was beginning to like her—even to herself Iris would not +admit the possibility of any return of liking on her side; and on the +occasion of their meeting in the wayside cottage, when he had bandaged +her wrist, he had spoken to her in a more confidential, more really +intimate manner than he had ever before displayed.</p> + +<p>In the weeks that followed that sudden leap into intimacy, they had been +such good comrades, had enjoyed so many half-playful, half-serious +conversations, had played so many thrilling tennis matches, that it was +small wonder she had begun to look upon him as one of her most genuine +friends; and his sudden absence hurt her pride, and made her wonder +whether, after all, his friendliness had been merely a pretence.</p> + +<p>Once or twice he met her in the village, but he only saluted her and +hurried on his way; while the invitations which the ever-hospitable Sir +Richard insisted on sending him were refused with excuses so shallow +that even the good-natured host of Greengates refrained from comment.</p> + +<p>The contrast between this ungracious behaviour and Bruce Cheniston's +open delight in her society was strongly marked; and the friendliness of +the younger man brought balm to Iris' sore heart, sore with the first +rebuff of her budding womanhood. When Anstice failed her, refused her +invitations, and appeared indifferent to her smiles, it was undoubtedly +soothing to feel that in Cheniston she had a friend who asked nothing +better than to be in her company at all hours, to do her bidding, and to +pay her that half-laughing, half-earnest homage which was so delicate +and sincere a tribute to her charms.</p> + +<p>Anstice had spoken truly when he said the psychological moment was at +hand. Until the day when his visits to Greengates ceased abruptly Iris +had been inclined, ever so unconsciously, to look upon Anstice with a +slightly deeper, more genuine regard than that which she gave to the +other man; and had Anstice been able to seize the moment, to follow up +the impression he had made upon her, it is possible she, would have +listened to him with favour, and the tiny seed of affection which +undoubtedly lay in her heart would have burst into a lovely and precious +blossom which would have beautified and made fragrant the rest of their +lives.</p> + +<p>But Anstice might not seize the moment; and although Bruce Cheniston had +hitherto taken the second place in Iris' esteem, when once she realized +that Anstice had apparently no intention of renewing their late +friendship she gently put the thought of him out of her heart and turned +for relief to the man who had not failed her.</p> + +<p>So matters stood on the morning of Iris' birthday, a glorious day in +mid-July, when the gardens of Greengates were all ablaze with roses and +sweet-peas, with tall white lilies whose golden hearts flung sweetest +incense on the soft air, with great masses of Canterbury bells and giant +phlox making gorgeous splashes of colour, mauve and red and white and +palest pink, against their background of velvet lawns and dark-green +cedar trees.</p> + +<p>This was the day on which Bruce Cheniston had decided to put his fortune +to the test; and as he looked out of his window at Cherry Orchard and +noted the misty blue haze which foretold a day of real summer heat, he +told himself that on such a day as this there could be no need to fear a +reverse in his present luck.</p> + +<p>He whistled as he dressed, and when the breakfast-bell rang he went +downstairs feeling at peace with himself and all the world.</p> + +<p>"'Morning, Chloe. What a day!" He stooped and kissed his sister as he +passed behind her chair, and she looked faintly amused at the unusual +salutation.</p> + +<p>"Yes. A beautiful day." Her deep voice expressed little pleasure in the +morning's beauty. "Are you going anywhere particular that the fine +weather fills you with such joy?"</p> + +<p>"No—only over to Greengates." He was so accustomed to making this reply +that it came out almost automatically and certainly caused Chloe no +surprise.</p> + +<p>"It's Iris' birthday, isn't it, Bruce?" Cherry flatly refused to endow +her uncle with the title which rightly belonged to him. "What are you +going to give her?"</p> + +<p>"Give her? Well, come round here, and you shall see."</p> + +<p>Nothing loth, Cherry obeyed, and stood beside him attentively while he +opened a small leather case and took out a pair of earrings each +consisting of a tiny, pear-shaped moonstone dangling at the end of a +thin platinum chain.</p> + +<p>"Earrings! But Iris hasn't any holes in her ears, my dear!" Cherry's +consternation was genuine.</p> + +<p>"I know that, you little goose! But these don't want holes—see, you +screw them on like this."</p> + +<p>He took one of her little pink ears in his fingers and screwed on the +earring deftly.</p> + +<p>"There, run and look at yourself," he commanded, and she trotted away to +an oval glass which hung on the wall between the long windows. As she +moved, Cheniston passed the remaining earring to his sister.</p> + +<p>"What do you say, Chloe—is it a suitable present for her ladyship!"</p> + +<p>Chloe took up the little trinket with a rather dubious air.</p> + +<p>"Somehow I don't think I can fancy Iris wearing earrings," she said; and +Bruce, who had a respect for his sister's opinion which she herself did +not suspect, looked rueful.</p> + +<p>"But, Chloe, why not? You always wear them?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly I do." As a matter of fact she did, and the pearls or +sapphires which she affected were as much a part of her personality as +her black hair or her narrow blue eyes. "But then Iris is a different +sort of person. She is younger, more natural, more unsophisticated; and +I'm not quite sure whether these pretty things will suit her charming +face."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Bruce's own face fell, and for once Chloe felt an impulse of +compassion with another's disappointment.</p> + +<p>"At any rate they are very dainty and girlish," she said, handing back +the case. "I congratulate you on your taste, Bruce. You might very +easily have got more elaborate ones—like some of mine—which would have +been very inappropriate to a girl."</p> + +<p>"Why do you always speak of yourself as though you were a middle-aged +woman, Chloe?" asked her brother with a sudden curiosity. "You seem to +forget you are younger than I—why, you are only twenty-six now."</p> + +<p>"Am I?" Her smile was baffling. "In actual years I believe I am. But in +thought, in feeling, in everything, I am a hundred years older than you, +Bruce."</p> + +<p>Cherry's return to her uncle's side with a request to him to take out +"the dangly thing what tickles my ear" cut short Bruce's reply, and +breakfast proceeded tranquilly, while the sun shone gaily and the roses +for which Cherry Orchard was famous scented the soft, warm air which +floated in through the widely-opened windows.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Meanwhile Anstice was in a quandary on this beautiful summer morning.</p> + +<p>Before he had pledged his word to Cheniston to stand aside and leave the +field open to his rival, he had gladly accepted Iris' invitation to her +birthday dinner and dance; but the thought of the dances she had +promised him had changed from a source of anticipatory delight to one of +the sheerest torment.</p> + +<p>It had not been easy to avoid her. There had been hours in which he had +had to restrain himself by every means in his power from rushing over to +Greengates to implore her pardon for his discourtesy, and to beg her to +receive him back into her most desirable favour. It had cost him an +effort whose magnitude had left him cold and sick to greet her distantly +on the rare occasions of their meeting; and many times he had been ready +to throw his promise to the winds, to repudiate the horrible bargain he +had struck, and to tell her plainly in so many words that he loved her +and wanted her for his wife.</p> + +<p>But he never yielded to the temptation. He had pledged his word, and +somehow the thought that he was paying the price, now, for Hilda Ryder's +untimely death, brought, ever and again, a fleeting sense of comfort as +though the sacrifice of his own chance of happiness was an offering laid +at her feet in expiation of the wrong he had all unwittingly wrought +her.</p> + +<p>But his heart sank at the idea of facing Iris once more, and the thought +of her as she would surely be, the centre and queen of all the evening's +gaiety, was almost unendurable.</p> + +<p>At times he told himself that he could not go to Greengates that night. +He was only human, and the sight of her, dressed, as she would surely +be, in some shimmering airy thing which would enhance all her beauty, +would break down his steadfast resolve. He could not be with her in the +warm summer night, hold her in his arms in the dance, while the music of +the violins throbbed in his ears, the perfume of a thousand roses +intoxicated all his senses, and not cry out his love, implore her to be +kind as she was fair, to readmit him to her friendship, and grant him, +presently, the privileges of a lover....</p> + +<p>And then, in the next moment he told himself he could not bear to miss +the meeting with her. He must go, must see her once more, see the wide +grey eyes beneath their crown of sunny hair, hear her sweet, kind voice, +touch her hand....</p> + +<p>And then yet another thought beset him. What guarantee had he that Iris +Wayne would welcome him to her birthday feast? He had thrown her +kindness back into her face, had first accepted and then carelessly +repudiated her friendship; and it was only too probable she had written +him down as a casual and discourteous trifler with whom, in future, she +desired to hold no intercourse.</p> + +<p>The sunshiny day which the rest of the world found so beautiful was one +long torment to Anstice. Restless, undecided, unhappy, he went about his +work with set lips and a haggard face, and those of his patients who had +lately found him improved to a new and attractive sociability revised +their later impressions of him in favour of their first and less +pleasing ones.</p> + +<p>At five o'clock, acting on sudden impulse, he rang up Greengates and +asked for Miss Wayne.</p> + +<p>After a short delay she came, and as he heard her soft voice over the +wire Anstice's face grew grim with controlled emotion.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Dr. Anstice?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Wayne. I wanted to say—but first, may I wish you—many happy +returns of your birthday?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks very much." Straining his ears to catch every inflection in her +voice, Anstice thought he detected a note of coldness. "By the way, were +those beautiful sweet-peas from you—the ones that came at twelve +o'clock to-day?"</p> + +<p>"I sent them, yes." So much, at least, he had permitted himself to do.</p> + +<p>"They were lovely—thank you so much for them." Iris spoke with a trifle +more warmth, and for a moment Anstice faltered in his purpose. "You are +coming to dinner presently, aren't you? Seven o'clock, because of the +dance."</p> + +<p>"Miss Wayne, I'm sorry ..." the lie almost choked him, but he hurried +on, "... I can't get over to Greengates in time for dinner. I—I have a +call—into the country—and can't get back before eight or nine."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" For a moment Iris was silent, and to the man at the other end of +the wire it seemed an eternity before she spoke again. Then: "I'm +sorry," said Iris gently. "But you will come to the dance afterwards?"</p> + +<p>For a second Anstice wavered. It would be wiser to refuse, to allege +uncertainty, at least, to leave himself a loophole of escape did he find +it impossible to trust himself sufficiently to go. He opened his lips to +tell her he feared it might be difficult to get away, to prepare her for +his probable absence; and then:</p> + +<p>"Of course I will come to the dance," he said steadily. "I would not +miss it for anything in the world!"</p> + +<p>And he rang off hastily, fearing what he might be tempted to say if the +conversation were allowed to continue another moment.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was nearly eleven o'clock when Anstice entered the hall of Greengates +that night; and by that time dancing was in full swing.</p> + +<p>By an irony of Fate he had been called out when just on the point of +starting, and had obeyed the summons reluctantly enough.</p> + +<p>The fact that his importunate patient was a tiny girl who was gasping +her baby life away in convulsions changed his reluctance into an +energetic desire to save the pretty little creature's life at any cost; +but all his skill was of no avail, and an hour after he entered the +house the child died.</p> + +<p>Even then he could not find it in his heart to hurry away. The baby's +parents, who were young and sociable people, had been, like himself, +invited to the dance at Greengates—had, indeed, been ready to start +when the child was taken ill; and the contrast between the young +mother's frantic grief and her glittering ball-gown and jewels struck +Anstice as an almost unendurable irony.</p> + +<p>When at last he was able to leave the stricken house, having done all in +his power to lighten the horror of the dreary hour, he was in no mood +for gaiety, and for a few moments he meditated sending a message to say +he was, after all, unable to be present at the dance.</p> + +<p>Then the vision of Iris rose again before his eyes, and immediately +everything else faded from his world, and he hastened to Greengates, +arriving just as the clock struck eleven.</p> + +<p>He saw her the moment he entered the room after greeting Sir Richard and +Lady Laura in the hall. She was dancing with Cheniston, and Anstice had +never seen her look more radiant.</p> + +<p>She was wearing the very shimmering white frock in which he had pictured +her, a filmy chiffon thing which set off her youthful beauty to its +highest perfection; and the pearls which lay on her milky throat, the +satin slippers which cased her slender feet, the bunch of lilies-of-the +valley at her breast, were details in so charming a picture that others +besides Anstice found her distractingly pretty to-night.</p> + +<p>And as he noted her happy look, the air of serene content with which she +yielded her slim form to her partner's guidance, the light in the grey +eyes which smiled into Cheniston's face, Anstice's heart gave one bitter +throb and then lay heavy as a stone in his breast.</p> + +<p>He hardly doubted that she was won already; and in Cheniston's proud and +assured bearing he thought he read the story of that winning.</p> + +<p>As he stood against the wall, unconscious of the curious glances +directed towards him, the music ceased, and the dancers came pouring out +of the ballroom to seek the fresher air without.</p> + +<p>Passing him on her partner's arm, Iris suddenly withdrew her hand and +turned to greet the late comer.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice!" It seemed as though her inward happiness must needs find +an outlet, so radiant was the smile with which she greeted him. "You +have really come! I thought you had failed us after all."</p> + +<p>"No—I was sent for, at the last moment." Something in his strained tone +seemed to startle the girl, for her eyes dilated, and with an effort +Anstice spoke more lightly. "I couldn't get away, Miss Wayne, but you +won't visit my misfortunes on my head, will you? You promised me some +dances——"</p> + +<p>"One has had to go." She looked down at her card. "I kept the fifth for +you, but you may have the next if you like. I did not engage myself for +that, thinking"—she paused, then smiled at him frankly—"thinking you +might come after all."</p> + +<p>Scarcely knowing what he did Anstice made some rejoinder; and then +Cheniston, who had turned away for a moment, appeared to observe Anstice +for the first time, and giving him a nod said rather curtly:</p> + +<p>"Evening, Anstice; you've got here then, after all? Well, Iris, shall we +go and get cool after that energetic waltz?"</p> + +<p>They drifted out into the hall; and watching them go Anstice told +himself again that Cheniston had won the day.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Shall we sit out, Dr. Anstice?" He thought Iris looked at him rather +strangely. "I ... I am rather tired—and hot—but still——"</p> + +<p>"Let us sit out by all means, Miss Wayne. Shall we go into the +conservatory? It is quite cool there—and quiet."</p> + +<p>She agreed at once; and two minutes later he found her a seat in a +corner beneath a big overshadowing palm.</p> + +<p>Now that she was beside him he felt his self-control failing him. She +was so pretty in her white gown with the pearls on her neck and the +delicate moonstones dangling in her little ears....</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice"—it was the girl who broke the silence—"do you know you +have treated us very badly of late? You have never been near us for +weeks, and our tennis match has not been decided after all!"</p> + +<p>"I know I've behaved disgracefully"—his voice shook, and she half +regretted her impulsive words—"but—well, I'm not exactly a free agent, +Miss Wayne."</p> + +<p>"No, I suppose a doctor rarely is," she answered thoughtfully; and he +did not correct her misapprehension of his meaning.</p> + +<p>"But I don't want you to think me ungrateful for your kindness." So +much, at least, he might say. "If I have appeared discourteous, please +believe that in my heart I have always fully appreciated your +goodness—and that of your father."</p> + +<p>She said nothing for a moment, looking down at her satin slippers +absently; and he did not attempt to interrupt her reverie.</p> + +<p>Then, with rather startling irrelevance, she said slowly:</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice, have you ever been in Egypt? I know you have travelled a +lot, and I thought perhaps——"</p> + +<p>"No." Suddenly at this apparently innocent question a foreboding of evil +fell on Anstice's soul with a crushing weight. "As you say, I have +travelled a good deal; but somehow I have never visited Egypt. Why do +you ask?"</p> + +<p>"Because——" For yet another moment Iris hesitated, as though uncertain +whether or no to proceed. And then, suddenly, she turned to face him +with something in her eyes which Anstice could not fathom. "I asked +because it is possible I may go to live in Egypt some day."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Anstice very quietly. "You mean—Miss Wayne, I won't +pretend to misunderstand you—you mean that Cheniston has asked you to +marry him, and you have said yes."</p> + +<p>Now the rosy colour flooded the girl's face until even her ears were +pink; but her grey eyes met his frankly, and when she spoke her voice +rang happily.</p> + +<p>"You've guessed my secret very quickly," she said, relieved +unconsciously by his calm manner and friendly tone. "Yes. Mr. Cheniston +asked me to marry him an hour ago, and I agreed. And so, as he wants to +be married almost at once, I shall have to prepare myself to live in +Egypt, for a time at least."</p> + +<p>"I don't think you need dread the prospect," he said, and his voice was +creditably steady, though the world seemed to be crashing down in ruins +around him. "Egypt must be a wonderfully fascinating country, and +nowadays one doesn't look upon it as a land of exile. When do you think +you will be going, Miss Wayne?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Bruce has to be back in November," she said, "so if we are really +to be married first"—again the rosy colour flooded her face—"it +doesn't give me much time to get ready."</p> + +<p>"No. I suppose I ought to congratulate you." He was beginning to feel he +could not bear this torture much longer. "At least—it is Cheniston who +is to be congratulated. But you—I can only wish you all possible +happiness. I <i>do</i> wish it—from the bottom of my heart."</p> + +<p>He held out his hand and she put her slender fingers into it. For just +the fraction of a second longer than convention required he held them in +his clasp; then he laid her hand down gently on her filmy chiffon knee.</p> + +<p>"Miss Wayne"—he spoke rather hoarsely—"I wonder if you will think me a +bear if I run away after this dance? I would not have missed these few +minutes with you for anything the world might offer me; but somehow I am +not in tune with gaiety to-night."</p> + +<p>She shot a quick glance at his haggard face; and even in the midst of +her own happy excitement she felt a vivid impulse of sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice, I'm so sorry." Just for an instant she laid her fingers +gently on his arm; and the light touch made him wince. "You said when +you came in that you had been detained, and you looked so serious I +thought it must have been something dreadful which had kept you. I don't +wonder you find all this"—she waved her small white fan comprehensively +round—"jars upon you—now."</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, snatching at the opening she gave him, and longing only +for the moment when he might say good-bye and leave her adorable, +maddening presence. "It jars, as you say—not because it isn't all +delightful and inspiring in itself, but because"—suddenly he felt an +inexplicably savage desire to hurt her, as a man in pain may seek to +wound his tenderest nurse—"because not many miles away from here +there's a poor mother weeping, like Rachel, for her child, and refusing +to be comforted."</p> + +<p>She turned pale, and he felt like a murderer as he watched the light die +out of her big grey eyes.</p> + +<p>"A child—the child you went to see—it died?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. She was just a year old—and their only child."</p> + +<p>Now, to his remorse, he saw that she was crying; and instantly the cruel +impulse died out of his heart and a wild desire to comfort her took its +place.</p> + +<p>"Miss Wayne, for God's sake don't cry! I had no right to tell you—it +was brutal, unpardonable of me to cloud your happiness at such a moment +as this. I ... I've no excuse to offer—none, at least, that you could +understand—but it makes me feel the meanest criminal alive to see you +cry!"</p> + +<p>No woman could have withstood the genuine remorse in his tone; and Iris +dabbed her eyes with a little lacy handkerchief and smiled forgiveness +rather tremulously.</p> + +<p>"Don't reproach yourself, Dr. Anstice. I ... I think I'm rather foolish +to-night. And at any rate"—perhaps after all she had divined the +soreness which lay beneath his spoken congratulations—"I'm sure of one +thing—you did your best to comfort the poor mother."</p> + +<p>"Thank you for that, at least," he said; and then, in a different key: +"You won't think me rude if I leave after this?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not." Suddenly Iris rose, and Anstice, surprised, followed +her example. "Dr. Anstice, if you don't mind I'll ask you to take me +back now. I think"—she smiled rather shyly—"I think I must just go and +bathe my eyes. I don't want any one to ask inconvenient questions!"</p> + +<p>Filled with anger against himself Anstice acquiesced at once; and in the +hall they parted, Iris speeding upstairs to her room in search of water +and Eau de Cologne with which to repair the ravages his heartless speech +had caused.</p> + +<p>At the last came a consolatory moment.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice." She held out her hand once more. "You are the only +person—except my father—who knows what has happened to-night. Somehow +I wanted to tell you because"—she coloured faintly, and her eyes +dropped for a second—"because I think you and I are—really—friends in +spite of everything."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Miss Wayne." His tone was so low she could barely catch the +words. "Believe me, I value your friendship above everything else in the +world."</p> + +<p>He wrung her hand hard; and as she left him with a last fleeting smile +he turned and found himself face to face with Bruce Cheniston.</p> + +<p>At that moment the hall was empty; and before the other man could speak +Anstice said quickly:</p> + +<p>"So you've won the day, Cheniston. Well, congratulations—though God +knows I wish with all my heart that you had failed."</p> + +<p>"Thanks." Cheniston ignored the latter half of the sentence with a smile +Anstice felt to be insolent. "So Miss Wayne told you? I had hoped to be +the first to give you the information."</p> + +<p>"Miss Wayne told me, yes," said Anstice, taking his hat and coat from +the chair where he had thrown them on his late entrance, and turning +towards the door. "And I don't know that there is anything more to be +said between us. Oh, yes, there is, though. One word, Cheniston." The +other man had followed him to the door and now stood on the steps +looking out into the fragrant July night. "I think that in all fairness +you will now agree that I have paid my debt to you; wiped it out to the +uttermost farthing. In future"—turning on the lowest stop he faced the +man who stood above him, and in his face was a look which no other human +being had ever seen there—"in future we are quits, you and I. The debt +is paid in full."</p> + +<p>And before Bruce Cheniston could frame any reply to his words Anstice +turned away and was lost in the soft summer darkness.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + + +<p>On the day before that fixed for Iris Wayne's wedding a large garden +party was held at Greengates; and fortunately the late September +afternoon was all that could be desired in regard to sunshine and soft +breezes.</p> + +<p>The wedding itself was to be a comparatively quiet affair, only a score +or two of intimate friends and relations being invited to the house +after the ceremony; but Lady Laura had ordained that on the previous day +half the countryside was to be entertained; and although there were some +people who did not altogether approve of the match—for Bruce Cheniston +was, after all, the brother of the notorious Mrs. Carstairs—the +majority were only too ready to follow Sir Richard Wayne's lead and +extend a hand of friendship to Miss Wayne's prospective bridegroom.</p> + +<p>Anstice had received an invitation to both ceremonies, and had accepted, +provisionally, for each; but in his heart he knew that no power on earth +could induce him to see Iris Wayne married to another man; and although +he duly appeared at Greengates while the garden party was in full swing +he only remained there a brief half-hour.</p> + +<p>As he was bidding Lady Laura good-bye, Iris, with whom he had as yet +only exchanged a couple of words, came up to him with a friendly little +smile on her lips.</p> + +<p>"Are you leaving us already, Dr. Anstice? I don't believe you've even +had a cup of tea—or what Daddy calls a peg. Have you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, thanks, Miss Wayne." He lied so convincingly that the girl +believed him. "I'm just off again—you must excuse me, but you know my +time is not my own."</p> + +<p>"No." He thought she looked a little pale this afternoon. "I quite +understand, and I think it is very nice of you to come at all. You are +coming to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"I hope so." Again he lied, and something in the frank eyes which were +raised to his made him ashamed of his mendacity. "Of course—it's +possible I may be prevented, but in any case, Miss Wayne, please +remember my best wishes will be yours all day."</p> + +<p>As though reminded of something she spoke impulsively.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice, I've never thanked you—except in a note—for your lovely +present. It is really quite the most uncommon one I have had, and I +shall value it immensely."</p> + +<p>"I am glad you like it," he said. He had sent her a pair of ancient +Chinese vases which his father had received many years ago from the +grateful wife of a mandarin to whom he had once rendered a service. "I +hardly knew what to send you, and then I remembered you once said you +liked curios."</p> + +<p>"I do—and these are so lovely." As she stood talking to him in the +sunlight Anstice told himself that this was really his farewell to the +girl he had known and loved, and his eyes could hardly leave her +adorable face. The next time they met—if Fate ordained that they should +meet again—she would be Bruce Cheniston's wife; and believing as he did +that this would be their last meeting as man and maid, Anstice took the +hand she held out to him with a very sore heart.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Miss Wayne." Just for a moment he hesitated, feeling that he +could not bear to let her go like this; and the girl, puzzled by his +manner, waited rather uneasily, her hand in his. Then he gave her +fingers a last clasp, wringing them unconsciously hard, and let them go.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Dr. Anstice." Standing as she did on the threshold of a new +life, face to face with a mystery she dreaded, yet was prepared, to +fathom, perhaps Iris' perceptions were a little quickened. All at once +she saw that this man looked upon her with different eyes from the other +men she knew; and the memory of her strange fancy earlier in the summer +gave her the key suddenly to his rather curious manner of bidding her +farewell.</p> + +<p>With a foolish, but purely womanly, impulse of compassion, she spoke +again, laying her hand for a second on his arm with a friendliness which +no man could have misunderstood.</p> + +<p>"No, Dr. Anstice. Not good-bye. We shall meet again to-morrow, at any +rate; so let us just say—<i>au revoir!</i>"</p> + +<p>The kind little hand, the friendly words, almost broke down Anstice's +self-control.</p> + +<p>With a huge effort he kept his voice steady; but his face was grey as he +answered her.</p> + +<p>"If you wish, Miss Wayne—from the bottom of my heart let it +be—only—<i>au revoir!</i>"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>And Fate, who foresaw in what wise their next meeting should take place, +probably chuckled to herself, like the malignant lady she can be, at +this parting between the two who might have been lovers but for a +miscalculated shot in the days gone by.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When Anstice had finished his day's work it was barely seven o'clock. +Fortunately for him he had no very serious cases on his hands just now, +and there was no need, save in the event of an urgent call, for him to +go out again when he had eaten his solitary dinner.</p> + +<p>He was thankful for the respite, for the strain of the last few weeks, +the weeks of Iris' engagement, had been severe; and mind and body were +alike overtasked and weary. For several days he had suffered from a +severe neuralgic headache, and to-night the torture in head and eyes +threatened to overwhelm him.</p> + +<p>For three or four nights he had hardly slept; and on more than one +occasion he had thought, with a queer, detached interest, of the relief +which morphia might bring to his tormented nerves; but with the thought +came another—the picture of Iris Wayne who had bidden him remember that +this was not the way out of the tragic muddle into which his life had +been plunged by his own action.</p> + +<p>She had believed him when he told her he would not again deliver himself +into bondage to the fatal drug, and although he had not given her his +promise—foreseeing even then the possibility of this black hour—he had +meant, at the moment, to turn his back for ever on the seductive thing +which whispers such sweet, such deliriously fatal promises to the man in +the clutch of any agony he does not know how to bear.</p> + +<p>So, although on the last two or three occasions he had not won the +victory without a struggle, Anstice had managed to win through without +lowering his flag; but to-night he began to wonder whether after all it +were worth while waging the unequal war any longer.</p> + +<p>He had parted from Iris Wayne, as he thought, for ever. As the wife of +Bruce Cheniston he must henceforward regard her; and although he was no +saint, to covet his neighbour's wife was not compatible with Anstice's +code of decency.</p> + +<p>He might love her still—at this moment he thought he knew that he would +love her always—but for all practical purposes their friendship, with +all its privileges and its obligations, was at an end. And this being +so, why should he hesitate to gain, if he might, relief from this agony +of mind and body by the help of the drug he had hitherto forsworn?</p> + +<p>It is always hard on a man when to physical anguish is added agony of +mind, since in that dual partnership of pain no help may be rendered +either by its complementary part; and it does not need a physician to +know that such help given by the one to the other is frequently a ruling +factor in the recovery of the sick body or mind. And to-night Anstice +was enduring a physical and mental suffering which taxed mind and body +to their utmost limits, and absolutely precluded the possibility of any +helpful reaction one upon the other.</p> + +<p>His eyeballs felt as though they were being pierced by red-hot needles; +while the stabbing pain in his head increased every moment. Had he +witnessed such suffering in another he would instantly have set about +alleviating it so far as his skill might allow; but he told himself that +there was only one effectual remedy for him and that was forbidden him +by his implied promise to Iris Wayne. And so he sat on in a corner of +the couch in his dim and shadowy room, and endured the excruciating pain +as best he might.</p> + +<p>The house was very quiet, and suddenly he remembered that the servants +were out, witnessing the fireworks which Sir Richard had provided in the +park of Greengates for the entertainment of the village on the eve of +his daughter's wedding.</p> + +<p>They had asked permission to go, and he had granted it readily enough; +and now he was grateful for the peace and tranquillity which their +absence engendered in the dark and quiet house.</p> + +<p>Dimmer and more gloomy grew the room in which he sat—his +consulting-room, chosen to-night for its long window open to the garden +without. More and more thickly clustered the shadows round him as he sat +half-sunk in a corner of the big leather couch. Once an owl hooted in +the tall trees outside the house, and the strange, melancholy note +seemed a fit accompaniment to the eerie stillness of the night.</p> + +<p>Worse and ever more hard to bear grew the fierce throbbing in his head +and eyes, but his wretchedness of mind ran a good race with his bodily +suffering; and had he been asked, suddenly, the nature of the pain which +tormented him he would have found it hard to answer immediately.</p> + +<p>Only as the quiet hours wore on he began to feel that the limit of his +endurance was almost reached. He told himself that even Iris herself +would not willingly sanction such suffering as his had now become. In +all the world he desired only one boon—oblivion, unconsciousness, rest +from this state of being which was surely unendurable; and as a more +exquisitely painful throb of anguish shot through his head he plunged +his hand into his breast-pocket in search of a certain little case which +was generally to be found there during his day's round.</p> + +<p>But he remembered, with a sudden keen disappointment, that he had +changed his coat on returning home to dinner, and the means of +alleviation which he sought were not at hand.</p> + +<p>He half rose, intending to go in search of the thing he wanted; but the +effort of moving was too much, and he sank back again with an irritable +groan and prepared to endure still more of this misery.</p> + +<p>Next he thought he would try the effect of a cigarette, but the matches +were not on the table before him. That obstacle, however, need not be +insurmountable, for in a drawer at his elbow he kept a supply, and +moving cautiously, for every movement set his nerves jangling, he turned +on the couch and opened the drawer to seek the matches which should be +there.</p> + +<p>He found them immediately, and was in the act of taking one from the box +when his eye fell on a small package which somehow roused a strange +feeling of interest in his pain-shrouded mind.</p> + +<p>It seemed familiar—at least he thought he remembered handling it +before, and by a queer twist of memory he thought of Mrs. Carstairs as +he took up the mysterious little parcel and turned it about in his +hands.</p> + +<p>Yet his throbbing brain would not allow him to feel certain what was +really inside the packet, and with a sudden access of nervous irritation +he broke the seal which held its contents a mystery, and tore off the +enwrapping papers.</p> + +<p>And as he realized what it was that the paper had hidden he uttered an +exclamation in which surprise and dismay and relief were oddly blended.</p> + +<p>In his hand he held a box containing a hypodermic syringe and a supply +of morphia, and now he remembered how Mrs. Carstairs had told him of her +purchase of the same, and her subsequent decision to let the insidious +thing alone. She had given him the packet without apparent reluctance, +and as his own words, "I shan't be tempted to steal yours for my private +use," came flashing back to his memory he smiled, rather cynically, to +himself.</p> + +<p>"If I believed in signs and omens I should take this as an unmistakable +invitation to me to hesitate no longer." He fingered the syringe +thoughtfully. "And upon my soul I don't see why I shouldn't accept it as +a sign. In any case"—all the pent-up bitterness of his soul found vent +in the words—"in future what I do can have no interest for Iris +Cheniston!"</p> + +<p>As if the sound of the name, premature as it was, had put the finishing +touch to his reckless cynicism, he hesitated no longer.</p> + +<p>With an almost savage gesture he struck a match and lighted a candle on +his writing-table; and as the little yellow flame sprang up, and strove, +vainly, to enlighten the encompassing gloom, he set about his +preparations with a sudden energy in striking contrast with his previous +lethargy.</p> + +<p>When all was ready there came a last second of hesitation. With the +syringe in his hand, his arm bared, he paused, and for a last poignant +moment Iris' face rose before him in the flickering light. But now her +eyes had no power to move him from his purpose. Rather they maddened him +with their steadfast radiance, and with a muttered oath he looked aside +from that appealing vision and turned the key, recklessly, in the door +which led to the Paradise of Fools.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Nearly an hour later the telephone bell rang, sharply, insistently in +the hall. It went on ringing, again and again, a curiously vital sound +in the quiet house; but Anstice did not hear it, and at length the +ringing ceased.</p> + +<p>It was nearly half an hour later when another bell rang, this time the +bell of the front door; but again no answer came to the imperative +summons. And now the bell rang on, so continuously, so persistently, +that at last its sound penetrated the dulled hearing of the man who +huddled in a corner of the big couch, mind and body alike dazed and +incapable of making any effort to understand the meaning of this oddly +insistent noise.</p> + +<p>He was only conscious of a desire for it to cease; of a longing, not +sufficiently vivid to be acute, but the strongest emotion of which he +was at the moment capable, for a return to the silence which had +hitherto prevailed; and although the noise disturbed and angered him it +never occurred to him that to answer the summons would be the best way +of ending the irritating sound.</p> + +<p>So that bell too went unanswered; and in due course it also ceased to +ring.</p> + +<p>But that was not to be the end.</p> + +<p>Dimly he heard the sound of voices, of footsteps in the hall, of the +striking of a match and the hissing of the gas. Then there was a +confused noise which was like and yet unlike a rapping on the panels of +the door of the room in which he sat; but he felt no inclination +whatever to move or make any response; and even when at length the door +itself opened, slowly and tentatively, he merely looked up with languid +curiosity to see what these phenomena might imply.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>And in the doorway stood Iris Wayne, her face very pale, one hand +holding a flimsy scarf about her, with Bruce Cheniston by her side.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + + +<p>Chloe Carstairs had not been among the guests at Greengates that +afternoon. In vain had Sir Richard and Lady Laura invited her, in vain +had Iris added her entreaties. On this point Chloe was adamant, and +although her brother argued with her for an hour or more on the +advisability of making her reappearance in Littlefield society under the +aegis of the Waynes, she merely shook her head with an inscrutable +smile.</p> + +<p>"If I cared to re-enter Littlefield society," she said calmly, "I should +have done so long ago. But I am really so indifferent to those people +that I have no desire to meet them, even as a guest at Greengates."</p> + +<p>"I didn't suppose you wanted to meet them—for your own sake," retorted +her brother, "for a duller and more stupid set of people were never +born; but as Iris is to be your sister-in-law I think you might stretch +a point and go with me to Greengates this afternoon."</p> + +<p>But Chloe shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No, Bruce. I am sorry to disappoint you, but it cannot be done. As you +know, I am fond of Iris"—knowing his sister Bruce was quite satisfied +with this moderate expression of her affection—"but I won't go to +Greengates to-day, nor to the wedding to-morrow. If you like to bring +Iris down to say good-bye this evening when all the people are gone I +shall like to see her."</p> + +<p>"All right." Bruce gave up the contest. "I'm staying on—quietly—to +dinner; but I'll bring her down for half an hour afterwards."</p> + +<p>"Very well." Chloe rose from the breakfast-table as she spoke, and +sauntered to the window, from whence she looked over the pretty +garden with appreciative eyes. "It is lucky the weather is so +beautiful—Greengates will look at its best on a day like this."</p> + +<p>And Bruce agreed heartily as he stepped on to the lawn to enjoy his +after-breakfast pipe.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>True to his promise Bruce motored his <i>fiancée</i> over to Cherry Orchard +in the gloaming of the September evening, after a somewhat protracted +argument with Lady Laura, whose sense of propriety was, so she averred, +outraged by the project.</p> + +<p>Sir Richard, however, to whom the loss of his only daughter was a deep +though hidden grief, gave his consent readily enough when he saw that +Iris really wished to bid her friend good-bye; and making Bruce promise +to bring her back in good time he himself went to the door to pack them +safely into the motor.</p> + +<p>"Take care of her, Bruce—she is very precious to me!" He laid his hand +on the young man's arm, and his voice held an appeal which Bruce +involuntarily answered.</p> + +<p>"Trust me, sir!" There was a note of rather unusual feeling in his tone. +"She can't be more precious to you than she is to me!"</p> + +<p>And with the words he got his car in motion and glided away down the +dusky, scented avenue beneath the tall trees which had not, as yet, put +off their summer tints for their autumn livery of scarlet and gold.</p> + +<p>Somehow they did not talk much as they sped on through the cool, +perfumed night. Both, indeed, felt a sense of shyness in each other's +company on this last evening; and it was with something like relief that +they realized they were at Cherry Orchard in less time than they +generally allowed for the little journey.</p> + +<p>The hall door, as usual, stood hospitably open; but there was no sign of +Chloe, waiting for them with her gracious welcome; and as they crossed +the threshold both felt instinctively that something was wrong.</p> + +<p>A moment later their suspicions were confirmed, for Hagyard, the +manservant, who adored both his mistress and her small daughter, came +forward to meet them with an air of relief which did not conceal the +anxiety in his whole bearing.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Cheniston—sir—there's been an accident—Miss Cherry—she's +burnt——"</p> + +<p>"Burnt!" Iris and Bruce echoed the word simultaneously; and the man +hurried on.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, yes, miss—Miss Cherry got playing with matches—Tochatti +left her alone for a moment when she did not ought to have done"—in his +distress his usual correctness of speech and deportment fell away from +Hagyard, leaving him a mere human man—"and Miss Cherry's dress—a +little flimsy bit of muslin it was, caught fire, and before it was put +out she'd got burned——"</p> + +<p>"Where is Mrs. Carstairs?"</p> + +<p>"Upstairs with Miss Cherry, sir. We've been ringing up the doctor—but +we can't get no answer——"</p> + +<p>Bruce cut him short without ceremony.</p> + +<p>"Come, Iris, let's see what's to be done. We can go ourselves and fetch +the doctor, anyway."</p> + +<p>Together they ran up the broad staircase, and Bruce led the way to +Cherry's little room, where, as he guessed, the child was lying.</p> + +<p>As they entered Chloe Carstairs looked round; and her eyes appeared +almost black, so dilated were the pupils.</p> + +<p>"Bruce!" Her deep voice held a note of relief. "You have come at +last—now perhaps we can do something for the child."</p> + +<p>"Is she badly burnt?" Iris approached softly and stood looking down at +the moaning little figure in the bed.</p> + +<p>"Yes." Chloe's manner was impressive by reason of its very quietness. +"She is—very badly burnt, and until the doctor comes we can do so +little...."</p> + +<p>"You have done <i>something</i> for her?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes—Tochatti and I have done all we can, but"—for a second +Chloe's face quivered—"we can't do anything more, and I'm afraid if +something isn't done soon——"</p> + +<p>The child on the bed gave a sudden convulsive cry, and Chloe's white +face grew still paler.</p> + +<p>"You see—she's in horrible pain, and—oh, why doesn't the doctor come? +We've rung up again and again, and they've never answered!"</p> + +<p>"Shall we go and fetch him, Chloe? The car's here, and we'll bring him +back in no time!" He turned to Iris. "You'll come?"</p> + +<p>She hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Won't you go—and I'll stay here?"</p> + +<p>Chloe looked up at that.</p> + +<p>"No, Iris. I don't want you to stay—yet. Go with Bruce, and when you +come back you shall stay—if you will."</p> + +<p>"Very well." Iris deemed it best to do as she was requested. "We will +go—immediately—we shall soon be back."</p> + +<p>They ran downstairs together as swiftly as they had run up a few minutes +earlier; and in an incredibly short space of time the car was flying +through the sweet night air once more.</p> + +<p>Arriving at the Gables they could win no response to their ringing; but +it was imperative they should gain an entrance; and so it came about +that the first time Iris entered Anstice's house she entered it +unheralded, and unwelcomed by any friendly greeting.</p> + +<p>So, too, it came about that when Anstice at last awoke to the fact that +there were other human beings in the house beside himself he realized, +with a pang of consternation and amazement sufficiently sharp to pierce +even through the fog which clouded his spirit, that one of his uninvited +guests was the girl from whom, a few short hours earlier, he had parted, +as he thought, for ever.</p> + +<p>He half rose from the couch on which he crouched, and stared at the +advancing figures with haunted eyes.</p> + +<p>"I ... I ..." His voice, husky, uncertain, brought both his visitors to +a halt; and for a wild moment he fancied that after all they were no +real beings, only more than usually vivid shadows, projected visions +from the whirling phantasmagoria of his brain. The light behind them, +streaming in through the open door, confused him, made him feel as +though this were all a trick of the nerves, a kind of chaotic nightmare; +and with a muttered curse at his own folly in imagining for one moment +that Iris Wayne herself stood before him, he fell back on the couch and +closed his aching eyes wearily.</p> + +<p>"Anstice—I say, you're wanted—badly—at Cherry Orchard." Surely that +was Bruce Cheniston's voice which beat upon his ears until it reached +his inner sense. Yet what was that he was saying ... something about an +accident ... to Cherry ... but the time of cherries was over ... surely +now the summer was dead ... he was cold, bitterly cold, the fire must be +out, his teeth were chattering ... there was a mist before his eyes....</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice, is anything the matter? Are you ill?"</p> + +<p>That voice belonged to no one on earth but Iris Wayne, yet that +insubstantial grey shadow which seemed to speak was only another ghost, +a figment of his overwrought brain. He wished—how he wished—that these +ghosts would leave him, would return to the haunted place whence they +came and allow him to sink once more into the blessed oblivion from +which they called him with their thin, far-away voices....</p> + +<p>"It's no use, Iris!" Cheniston spoke abruptly, puzzled by the other +man's strange behaviour, to which as yet he could assign no cause. "The +man's asleep—or dazed—or—or"—suddenly a suspicion swept into his +brain—"or perhaps there's a less creditable cause for this +extraordinary behaviour."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Bruce?" Iris' grey eyes dilated and her face +blanched. "Is he—ill—or——"</p> + +<p>"I am not—ill, Miss Wayne." Somehow he had caught her words, her dear +voice had penetrated through the fog which enveloped his senses. "Don't, +please, be afraid.... I ... I am only ..."</p> + +<p>"Anyway you're not fit to speak to a lady," cut in Cheniston incisively. +"We came to fetch you to Cherry Orchard; there's been on accident, my +little niece is badly hurt and Mrs. Carstairs wanted you—but it's +evident you're not in a fit state to come...."</p> + +<p>Once more the fog lifted for a moment; and although he felt everything +to be whirling round him Anstice rose unsteadily to his feet and faced +his accuser.</p> + +<p>Through the open door the light streamed on to his haggard face; and as +she saw the ravages which suffering had wrought in him Iris uttered an +exclamation.</p> + +<p>"Don't be afraid, Miss Wayne." He could only, it seemed, repeat himself. +"I ... I didn't expect any one coming here." He spoke slowly, a pause +between each word. "I ... if there's anything—I can do——"</p> + +<p>"There isn't—unless you can pull yourself together sufficiently to come +to Cherry Orchard," said Cheniston coldly. "And judging from your +appearance you can't do that."</p> + +<p>The contempt in his voice stung Anstice momentarily into self-defence.</p> + +<p>"What are you implying?" He spoke a little more clearly now, "I ... I +believe after all I'm ill—but——"</p> + +<p>At that moment Bruce's eyes, roving here and there, caught sight of a +small decanter of brandy which stood on the table at his elbow. As a +matter of fact it had been brought there for a patient whose nerves had +failed him, earlier in the day, on hearing what practically amounted to +a sentence of death; but to Cheniston the innocent object appeared as +the confirmation of his suspicions, and his lip curled.</p> + +<p>"Come along, Iris." His disdain was cruel. "We must go and find some one +else—some one who hasn't fuddled his wits like our friend here."</p> + +<p>Iris' eyes, following his, had seen the brandy; and in a flash of +insight she knew what he meant. But before she could speak, could utter +the denial which trembled on her lips, Anstice himself interposed.</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken, Cheniston." He still spoke haltingly, but his eyes +looked less dim than they had done a moment ago. "That"—he pointed to +the decanter—"is not my particular vice. I confess I am not myself +to-night; and I fear I'm not capable of attending any one for the +present; but it is not brandy which is responsible, I assure you of +that."</p> + +<p>He stopped, feeling suddenly that the effort of speech was too much for +him. A terrible dizziness was overwhelming him ... he had only one +desire on earth, that Iris Wayne would leave him, that he might sink +down on to the couch again, and let the fathomless sea which was surging +round him drown his soul and senses in its rolling flood....</p> + +<p>Yet by a great effort he stood upright, steadying himself by the edge of +the table; and through all his mental and physical misery he saw Iris' +grey eyes fixed upon his face with a great pity in their depths.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice"—regardless of Bruce's presence she took up the hypodermic +syringe which lay on the table, gleaming in a strong beam of light which +streamed through the open door—"you have been trying <i>this</i> way +out—again?"</p> + +<p>Her voice, which held no condemnation, only an overwhelming compassion, +drove back for a moment those cruel waves which surged around him; and +when he answered her his voice was almost steady.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Wayne. I ... I could find no other way, and so—I took this +one."</p> + +<p>Iris placed the syringe down gently on the table, and her eyes were full +of tears.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice, I'm sorry," she said in a low tone; and the pity in her +voice nearly broke his heart.</p> + +<p>"Miss Wayne—I——"</p> + +<p>What he would have said she never knew; for Bruce Cheniston broke in +angrily, annoyed by a scene to which he held no key.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Iris, we mustn't waste time. Cherry's badly hurt, and since +Dr. Anstice can't come someone else must be found. Come along, we'll be +off and find another doctor—one who can be relied upon."</p> + +<p>The mists were closing in on Anstice once more, the hungry sea which +billowed round him threatened to engulf him body and soul. Yet he +thought he heard Iris striving to silence Cheniston's cruel words, he +could have sworn he saw her eyes, big with tears, shining through the +mist which kept him from her; and with a mental effort which turned him +cold he spoke once more to her before she left him.</p> + +<p>"Miss Wayne ... please don't condemn me altogether ... I did not give in +at once ... but this seemed—before God, I thought it was the only way +out—to-night...."</p> + +<p>And then the miracle happened. Regardless of the man who stood fuming by +her side, Iris laid her soft hand on Anstice's arm and spoke one last +gentle word.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice, I believe you—and good-bye! But—oh, do, do remember—for +my sake let me ask you to remember that this is <i>not</i> the true way out!"</p> + +<p>And then, as Cheniston took her arm impatiently to lead her away, she +smiled through the tears which threatened to blind her, and went out +from his presence without one reproachful word.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When she had gone he stood gazing after her for a long moment, and the +look in his face would have broken the heart of a woman who had loved +him. Then, with a despairing feeling that now nothing mattered in all +the world, he sank down again on the couch and let the flood overwhelm +him as it would.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + + +<p>As the clocks were striking ten on the following morning, the morning of +Iris Wayne's wedding day, Anstice came slowly down the garden to where +his car waited by the gate.</p> + +<p>It was a glorious September morning, the whole world bathed in a flood +of golden sunshine, and the soft, warm air was heavy with the scent of +sweet-peas, of stocks, of the hundred and one fragrant flowers which +deck the late summer days. Away over the fields hung an enchanting blue +haze which promised yet greater heat when it too should have dissolved +before the mellow rays of the sun; and if there be any truth in the old +saw that happy is the portion of the bride on whom the sun shall shine, +then truly the lot of Iris Wayne should be a happy one.</p> + +<p>But in Anstice's face there was no reflected sunshine on this auspicious +morning. Rather did he look incredibly haggard and worn, and his +colourless lips and purple-shadowed eyes were in strangest contrast to +the smiling face of Nature.</p> + +<p>It was only by a very strong effort of will that Anstice had driven +himself forth to embark upon his day's work. The horrible night through +which he had passed had left traces on both body and soul; and the +thought of that which was to happen to-day, the thought of the ceremony +in the little flower-decked church by which the girl he adored would be +given as wife to another man was nothing short of torture to this man +who loved her.</p> + +<p>He would have given half he possessed to be able to blot out this day +from his calendar—to pass the whole of it in a state of oblivion, of +forgetfulness, to cheat life of its fiercest suffering for a few hours +at least; but Iris herself blocked the way to that last indulgence. She +had bidden him remember—for her sake—that the way he had taken was not +in truth the way out; and although every nerve in his body cried out for +relief, nothing in the world could have persuaded him to mar Iris' +wedding-day by an act whose commission would have grieved her had she +known of it.</p> + +<p>And since to sit at home, brooding over the dimly-remembered events of +the preceding night, would be fatal, there was nothing for it but to go +out and strive to forget his own mental agony in an attempt to alleviate +the physical suffering of those who trusted him to relieve their bodily +woes at least.</p> + +<p>He was about to enter his car when he heard the hoot of a motor-horn +behind him; and turning round, one foot on the step, saw his friendly +rival, Dr. Willows, driving up to intercept him.</p> + +<p>"Hallo, Anstice, glad you're not out. I wanted to see you."</p> + +<p>Anstice moved forward to meet him, but Dr. Willows, an agile little man +of middle age, hopped out of his car, and taking Anstice's arm moved +with him out of ear-shot of the waiting chauffeur.</p> + +<p>"Well?" Anstice's voice was not inviting.</p> + +<p>"It's about that affair at Cherry Orchard." Involuntarily Anstice's arm +stiffened, and the other man dropped it as he went on speaking. "I was +called in last night, and hearing you were ill—by the way, are you +better now?" He broke off abruptly and peered into Anstice's face with +disconcerting keenness.</p> + +<p>"Quite, thanks. It was only a temporary indisposition," returned Anstice +coldly; and Dr. Willows relaxed his gaze.</p> + +<p>"Glad to hear it—though you look pretty seedy this morning. You know +you really work too hard, Anstice. I assure you your predecessor didn't +take half the trouble with his patients that you do——"</p> + +<p>"You'll excuse me reminding you that I have not begun my round yet." +Anstice interrupted him impatiently. "You were saying you were called in +to Cherry Orchard——"</p> + +<p>"Yes. The little girl was badly burnt—owing to some carelessness on the +part of the servants—and since you were not available——"</p> + +<p>"Who told you I was not available?" His tone was grim.</p> + +<p>"Why, Miss Wayne, of course. You know she and Mr. Cheniston came on to +see me after finding you weren't able to go owing to being seedy +yourself"—even Anstice's sore spirit could not doubt the little man's +absolute ignorance of the nature of his supposed illness—"and they +asked me to go in your place. So as it was an urgent case of course I +did not hesitate to go."</p> + +<p>"Of course not." Anstice strove to speak naturally. "Well, you went?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and treated the child. As you know, she is only a kiddie, and the +shock has been as bad as the actual burns, though they are severe +enough."</p> + +<p>"Have you been there to-day?"</p> + +<p>"No—that's what I came to see you about. I stayed pretty late last +night, and left the child asleep; but now, of course, you will take over +the case. Mrs. Carstairs understood I was only filling your place, you +know."</p> + +<p>"Do you think"—Anstice hesitated oddly, and Dr. Willows told himself +the man looked shockingly ill—"do you think Mrs. Carstairs would prefer +you to continue the case?"</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, no!" Dr. Willows stared. "Why, what bee have you got in your +bonnet now? I told you Mrs. Carstairs knew I was only representing you +because you were ill, and couldn't come, and I told her I would run over +first thing this morning and see if you were able to take on the case +yourself."</p> + +<p>"What did Mrs. Carstairs say to that?"</p> + +<p>"She agreed, of course. And if I were you"—Dr. Willows felt vaguely +uncomfortable as he stood there in the morning sunshine—"I'd go round +pretty soon." He looked at his watch ostentatiously. "By Jove, it's +after ten—I must get on. Then you'll go round to Cherry Orchard this +morning?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." Anstice accepted the inevitable. "I'll go round almost +immediately. Thanks very much for coming, Willows. I ... I'm grateful to +you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right!" Dr. Willows, relieved by the change in Anstice's +manner, waved his hand airily and returned to his car; and as soon as he +was out of sight Anstice entered his own motor and turned in the +direction of Cherry Orchard.</p> + +<p>After all, he said to himself as the car glided swiftly over the hard +white road, there was no reason why Mrs. Carstairs should find anything +suspicious in his inability to visit Cherry Orchard on the previous +evening. Doctors were only human after all—prone to the same ills to +which other men are subject; and although the exigencies of one of the +most exacting professions in the world would seem to inspire a +corresponding endurance in its members, there are moments in which even +the physician must pause in his ministrations to the world, in order, as +it were, to tune up his own bodily frame to meet the demands upon it.</p> + +<p>Of course it was possible that Cheniston had divulged to his sister the +true reason of Anstice's non-arrival; but Anstice did not think it +likely; for although there was, and always must be, a strong antagonism +between the two men, Cheniston was an honourable man; and the secret +upon which he had stumbled was one which a man of honour would +instinctively keep to himself.</p> + +<p>That his secret was safe with Iris, Anstice knew beyond any question; +and as his car swept up the drive to the jasmine-covered door of Cherry +Orchard he told himself that it was only his conscience which made him +feel as though his absence on the previous evening must have looked odd, +unusual, even—he could not help the word—suspicious.</p> + +<p>The door was opened to him by Hagyard, and there was no doubting the +sincerity of his welcome.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, sir. I was looking out for you.... Miss Cherry's +awakened, they say, and is in a sad state."</p> + +<p>His unusual loquacity was a proof of his mental disturbance, and Anstice +spoke sharply.</p> + +<p>"Where is she? Shall I go upstairs?"</p> + +<p>"If you please, sir. Here is Tochatti come for you, sir." And he stood +aside to allow the woman to approach.</p> + +<p>"Will you come this way, signor?" Her foreign accent was more marked +than usual; and looking at her worn and sallow countenance Anstice +guessed she had not slept.</p> + +<p>He followed her without asking any questions, and in another moment was +in Cherry's bedroom, the little white and pink room whose wall papers +and chintzes were stamped with the life-like bunches of cherries on +which he had once remarked admiringly, to the little owner's +gratification.</p> + +<p>In the small white bed lay Cherry, her head swathed in bandages, one +little arm bandaged likewise; and beside her knelt Chloe Carstairs, her +face like marble, her silky black hair dishevelled on her brow, as +though she, too, had passed a sleepless night. Cherry's brown eyes were +widely opened with an expression of half-wondering pain in their usually +limpid depths, and from time to time she uttered little moans which +sounded doubly piteous coming from so self-controlled a child as she.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice—at last!" Chloe rose swiftly from her knees and came to +meet him with both hands outstretched. "I thought you were never +coming—that Dr. Willows had forgotten to tell you——"</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Mrs. Carstairs." He knew at once, with a relief which would +not be repressed, that Cheniston had kept his miserable secret. "I only +saw Dr. Willows half an hour ago, and came at once. How is Cherry this +morning—did she have any sleep?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, thank God." Listening to her low voice, Anstice wondered why he +had ever thought her lacking in affection for her child. "Dr. Willows +was most kind—he stayed half the night with us and Cherry slept for +some hours after he left. But now she is awake, as you see, and I'm +afraid she is suffering horribly."</p> + +<p>"Let me see what I can do for her, will you?"</p> + +<p>He approached the bed and sat down quietly by it, while Cherry ceased +for a second to moan, and her brown eyes besought him, more eloquently +than speech, to give her relief from this quite unusual state of +affairs. At first he was not certain that the child recognized him; but +presently her uninjured hand came gropingly towards him; and as he took +the tiny fingers in his own Anstice felt a sudden revival of the +energies which had seemed so dead, so burnt-out within him on this +beautiful September morning.</p> + +<p>"Well, Cherry, this is bad luck, isn't it?" He spoke very gently, +studying her little face the while. "But don't lose heart—this pain +won't last long, it will soon run away. Is it <i>very</i> bad?"</p> + +<p>"It's <i>rather</i> bad, thank you, my dear." Even in the midst of her +tribulation Cherry strove heroically for her own gracious tone, and the +familiar term of endearment sounded strangely pathetic to-day. "But +you'll send it quite 'way, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I send away all pains," returned Anstice, lying nobly. "But first +of all you must let me see just what sort of pain this one is, and then +I shall know how to get rid of it. You don't mind me touching you, do +you?"</p> + +<p>"N-not much, my dear." Cherry's lips quivered, and Chloe Carstairs +turned away as though unable to bear the sight of her little daughter's +suffering any longer.</p> + +<p>Quickly and tenderly Anstice made his examination without disturbing +more of the dressings than was absolutely necessary; and by dint of +questioning Mrs. Carstairs found that the child's brow had been badly +scorched where her brown curls had caught fire, and that one little arm +had suffered a grievous burn. These were the only outward signs of the +accident, but the child had undergone a severe shock; and Anstice felt a +sudden misgiving as he looked at the pinched little face, and noted the +renewal of the pitiful moans which even Cherry's fortitude could not +altogether repress.</p> + +<p>The woman Tochatti had hovered in the background while he bent over the +bed; and now, at a sign from him, she came forward silently.</p> + +<p>"Just look after the child a moment or two, will you?" he said. "Mrs. +Carstairs, may I have a word with you? Oh, don't be alarmed—I only want +to hear a little more about the affair."</p> + +<p>Tochatti shot a quick look at him from her beady black eyes; and Anstice +was momentarily puzzled by her curious expression. She looked almost as +though she resented his presence—and yet she should have welcomed him, +seeing that he was there to do his best for the child she adored. But as +she moved to the side of the bed, and took Cherry's unhurt hand in her +own brown fingers with a touch of almost maternal tenderness, he told +himself impatiently that he was fanciful; and turned to Mrs. Carstairs +with a resolute movement.</p> + +<p>"Will you come into my room, Dr. Anstice?" Chloe's spacious bedroom led +out of her little daughter's pink and white nest; and as Anstice +followed her she pulled the door to with a nervous action curiously +unlike herself.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice, will she die?" Her lips were ashy, and in her white face +only the sapphire eyes seemed alive. "If she dies, I will never forgive +Tochatti—never!"</p> + +<p>"Tochatti?" Anstice was surprised. "Was she to blame for this?"</p> + +<p>"Not altogether." Chloe could be just, it seemed, even in the midst of +her sorrow. "I will tell you what happened. As perhaps you know, Cherry +was to have been one of Iris Wayne's bridesmaids, and at her own request +Tochatti had made her dress, a flimsy little thing all muslin and lace. +She had spent days over it—she embroiders wonderfully, and when it was +done it was perfectly exquisite. She finished it last evening, and +Cherry insisted on a dress rehearsal. She was to pay me a surprise visit +in the drawing-room just before dinner, and it seems that when she was +quite ready Tochatti slipped downstairs to find Hagyard and admit him to +a private view, leaving Cherry alone in the room—against all +rules—with two candles burning on the dressing-table."</p> + +<p>She paused.</p> + +<p>"I think I understand," said Anstice quietly. "Cherry took up a candle +to get a better view of her pretty frock, and——"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly," Chloe interrupted him. "She leaned forward, it seems, in +order to look at herself more closely in the glass—you know children +are fond of seeing themselves in pretty clothes—and, as you might +imagine, she leaned too close to the candle and her sleeve caught fire."</p> + +<p>"She cried out?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—luckily we all heard her." Through all her marble pallor Chloe +flushed at the remembrance of that poignant moment. "We rushed in and +found her shrieking, and Tochatti beat out the flames with her hands."</p> + +<p>"With her hands? Is she burnt, too, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—I believe so." Chloe's tone expressed no pity. "She tied up her +hand—the left one—herself, and says it is nothing much."</p> + +<p>"I see." Privately Anstice determined to investigate the woman's hurt +before he left the house. "Well—and what then?"</p> + +<p>"When we got the flames under we found that Cherry had fainted, and we +telephoned at once for you." She stopped short, taken aback by the +strange expression on his face.</p> + +<p>"Yes—and I wish to God I'd heard your call!" Anstice bit his lip +savagely; and Chloe, uncomprehending but compassionate, hastened on with +her story.</p> + +<p>"You couldn't help being ill! Iris told me how your maids were all in +the Park watching the fireworks—and then when my brother and Iris came +down you were too ill to come. Are you better now?"</p> + +<p>"So they went for Willows and brought him back with them?" He +disregarded her question—possibly did not hear it.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and as I have told you he was most kind. But of course Cherry did +not know him, and she kept on crying for you——"</p> + +<p>Chloe, who had intended the last words kindly, thinking to please him by +this proof of the child's affection for him, was aghast at the result of +her speech.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carstairs, for God's sake don't tell me that!" Anstice's voice +almost frightened her, so bitter, so full of remorse was it. "It only +wanted <i>that</i> to make the horror complete—the knowledge that I failed a +little child in her need!"</p> + +<p>"The horror?" She stared at him. "I don't understand."</p> + +<p>"No, and there's no reason why you should." With a great effort he +resumed his ordinary tone. "Mrs. Carstairs, forgive me. I ... as you +know—I was—ill—last night, and I'm not quite myself this morning. +But"—he turned the subject resolutely—"what I want to say is this. +Cherry will need very careful nursing for some days, and I think it will +be well for me to send you a nurse."</p> + +<p>Chloe received the suggestion rather dubiously.</p> + +<p>"Do you think it is really necessary?" she said at length. "I'm as +strong as a horse, and as for Tochatti, I'm afraid she wouldn't like to +feel herself superseded. She is devoted to Cherry, you know, and she is +a very jealous woman."</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "but even although you and Tochatti are ready to give +yourselves up to the child, in a case of this sort skill is wanted as +well as affection." He smiled to soften the harshness of his words, and +Chloe inconsequently thought that he looked very weary this morning.</p> + +<p>"Of course, and if we don't prove competent you are at liberty to send +us a nurse. But"—she spoke rather wistfully—"mayn't we try, Tochatti +and I? I would a thousand times sooner nurse Cherry myself than let a +stranger be with her."</p> + +<p>Touched by something in her voice, remembering also the peculiar +position in which this woman stood—a wife without a husband, with no +one in the world, apparently, to care for her save her child—Anstice +yielded the point for the moment.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then. We will try this arrangement first, and if Cherry goes +on well there will be no need to call in other help. Now I should like +to see Tochatti, and give you both instructions."</p> + +<p>Without a word Chloe led him back to the smaller bedroom where Cherry +lay uneasily dozing; and Anstice beckoned to Tochatti to approach the +window.</p> + +<p>She came forward rather sullenly; and Anstice, irritated by her manner, +spoke in rather a peremptory tone.</p> + +<p>"Let me see your hands, please. I understand you were burnt last night."</p> + +<p>Unwillingly the woman held out her left hand, which was wrapped round +with a roughly constructed bandage; and as Anstice took it and began to +unwind the folds he heard her draw in her breath with an odd little +hiss.</p> + +<p>"Did I hurt you?" he asked, surprised, and the woman answered stolidly.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you, sir. You did not hurt me at all."</p> + +<p>Her manner struck him as peculiar; it almost seemed as though she +resented his efforts on her behalf; and as he unwrapped the last of the +bandage Anstice told himself she was by no means an attractive patient.</p> + +<p>But when he saw her hand he forgave her all her peculiarities; for she +must have suffered untold pain during the hours which had elapsed since +the accident.</p> + +<p>"I say—why didn't you show your hand to the doctor last night?" He +spoke impetuously, really shocked to see the extent of her burns. "You +have given yourself a lot of unnecessary pain, and it will take much +longer to heal. You must let me dress the place at once."</p> + +<p>Assisted by Chloe, who fetched and carried for him deftly, he dressed +and bound up the burnt hand; and though the woman never flinched, there +was a look in her eyes which showed him she was enduring great pain.</p> + +<p>"There." He finished his work and looked at her closely. "That will feel +easier soon. But you know you should lie down and try to sleep for an +hour or two—and that hand will be quite useless for some days. Really, +Mrs. Carstairs"—he turned to Chloe—"I think you will have to let me +send for a nurse, after all. You can't do everything, and Tochatti is +more or less disabled——"</p> + +<p>He was surprised by the effect of his words. Tochatti turned to her +mistress eagerly, and began pouring out a stream of Italian which was +quite incomprehensible to Anstice, who was no better at modern languages +than the average public school and University product. And Chloe replied +in the same tongue, though without the wealth of gesture employed by the +other woman; while Anstice waited, silently, until the colloquy was +concluded.</p> + +<p>Finally Chloe turned, apologetically, to him and explained the subject +of the woman's entreaties.</p> + +<p>"Tochatti is so terribly upset at the idea of a strange woman coming to +nurse Cherry that I have promised to try to persuade you to reverse your +verdict," she said. "Do you mind? Of course if we can't manage you must +do as you think fit—but——"</p> + +<p>"We will try, by all means." In spite of himself, he was touched by the +woman's fierce devotion to her charge. "And now I'll tell you exactly +what I want you to do until I come again this afternoon."</p> + +<p>He proceeded to give them full instructions how to look after the child, +and when he had assured himself that they understood exactly what was to +be done, he took his leave, promising to call again in the course of a +few hours.</p> + +<p>As he drove away he mused for a moment on the Italian woman's peculiar +manner towards him.</p> + +<p>"Seems as if she hated me to speak to her ... she's never been like that +before—indeed, when Cherry broke her arm she used to welcome me quite +demonstratively." He smiled, then grew grave again. "Of course the woman +was in pain to-day—she was a queer colour, too—looked downright ill. I +expect the affair has been a shock to her as well as to the child."</p> + +<p>And with that conclusion he dismissed Tochatti from his mind for the +time being, his thoughts reverting to the one subject which filled his +mental horizon to-day.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>All through the bright September afternoon he sat alone in his +rarely-used drawing-room. The consulting-room was haunted ground to him +since the episode of the previous evening, and he could not bear to go +out into the village lest he might perhaps behold some signs of the +great event which was agitating peaceful Littlefield to-day.</p> + +<p>But his imagination, unmercifully awakened from the stupor which had +temporarily lulled it to repose, showed him many visions on that golden +September afternoon.</p> + +<p>He saw the old grey church decked with flowers, saw the sunlight +filtering through the famous Burne-Jones window in a splash of gorgeous +blue and crimson, staining the white petals of the big lilies in the +chancel ... he heard the peals of the organ as the choristers broke out +into the hymn which heralded the bride ... saw the bride herself, a +little pale, a little serious, in her white robes, in her eyes the grave +and tender look whose possibility he had long ago divined....</p> + +<p>Oh, he was a fool to let his imagination torment him so ... and he +sprang to his feet, determined to put an end to these maddening visions +which only unfitted him for the stern and hopeless battle which was all +that he could look forward to henceforth....</p> + +<p>As he moved impatiently towards the door a sudden peal of bells rang out +gaily, exultantly on the soft and balmy air; and his face turned grey as +he realized that this was the signal which betokened that Iris was now +the wife of Bruce Cheniston, his to have and to hold, irrevocably his +until death should intervene to end their dual existence....</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>With a muttered oath he strode out of the house, and making his way +round to the garage ordered his car to be brought forth immediately.</p> + +<p>When it came he flung himself into the steering seat and drove away at +such a pace that Andrews, his outdoor man and general factotum, looked +after him anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Looks like getting his licence endorsed," he observed to the pretty +housemaid, Alice, who was watching her master's departure from a +convenient window. "Never saw him drive so reckless—he's generally what +you might call a very considerate driver."</p> + +<p>"Considerate? What of?" asked Alice ungrammatically. "The dogs and +chickens in the road, d'you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Dogs and chickens! Good Lord, no!" Andrews was a born mechanician, and +it was a constant source of regret to him that Anstice generally drove +the car himself. "They're nothing but a nuisance anyway. No, I meant he +considered the car—but he don't look much like it to-day."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the car!" Alice was openly scornful. "Well, from the pace he went +off just now, I should think he'll smash up your precious old car before +he goes far. And no loss either," said Alice, who was engaged to a +soldier in a cavalry regiment, and therefore disdained all purely +mechanical means of locomotion.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>But once out on the road Anstice moderated his pace somewhat, since to +run over an unwary pedestrian would only add to the general hopelessness +of the situation; and he reached Cherry Orchard without any such mishap +as his servants had prophesied for him.</p> + +<p>Here he found things less satisfactory than he had hoped. Cherry was no +better; indeed, to his experienced eye, the child was worse, and +although Mrs. Carstairs showed no signs of fatigue, and was apparently +prepared to nurse her little daughter indefinitely, it was evident that +the woman Tochatti was worn out with pain, anxiety, and, possibly, +remorse.</p> + +<p>Although she pulled herself together sufficiently to answer Anstice's +questions intelligibly, it was plain to see that she was in reality half +dazed by the shock she had experienced and by want of sleep, and Anstice +realized that if Cherry were to be properly nursed some other help must +be obtained at once.</p> + +<p>"See here, Mrs. Carstairs." His face was grave as he examined the +child's condition. "I'm not going to beat about the bush—I'm going to +send you a nurse to help you with Cherry."</p> + +<p>"A nurse? But—can't Tochatti and I——?"</p> + +<p>"You're all right," he said shortly. "You look good for any amount of +nursing, though I can't imagine how you do it, seeing you had no sleep +last night. But Tochatti is no use at present." He judged it best to +speak frankly. "It is evident she is in pain with that hand of hers, and +she will be fit for nothing to-night, at any rate."</p> + +<p>Chloe did not contest the point further.</p> + +<p>"Very well, Dr. Anstice. You know best; and if you think it necessary, +will you find us someone at once?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I think I know just the person for you." He turned to Tochatti, +who was standing by, her face full of smouldering resentment. "I'm sure +you want me to do the best thing for Miss Cherry, don't you?"</p> + +<p>She did not answer; and he repeated his question rather sharply.</p> + +<p>This time she answered him.</p> + +<p>"<i>Si, signor.</i>" She spoke sulkily, and a flash of something like actual +hatred shot from her black eyes as he watched her; but he had no time to +spare for her vagaries, and turned back to Chloe Carstairs forthwith.</p> + +<p>"Then I will try to find Nurse Trevor and bring her along. She will sit +up to-night, and then you can both get some rest." He spoke kindly, +including Tochatti in his smile; but the woman merely glowered, and he +felt a spasm of sudden annoyance at her ungracious behaviour.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Luckily Nurse Trevor was at hand and disengaged; and Anstice had the +satisfaction of finding her safely installed and apparently completely +at home in her new surroundings when he paid his last visit to Cherry +Orchard late that night.</p> + +<p>She was a pretty girl of twenty-seven, who had had a good deal of +experience in nursing children, and although poor little Cherry was by +this time too ill to pay much attention to any of the people around her, +it really seemed as though Margaret Trevor's soft voice, with its +cooing, dove-like notes, had a soothing influence on the suffering +child.</p> + +<p>Anstice stayed some time in Cherry's room, doing all his skill could +suggest for the alleviation of his little patient's pain, and when at +length he took his departure Chloe herself came downstairs with him.</p> + +<p>"What a lovely night!" She had opened the big hall door quietly while he +sought his hat. "The moon must be nearly at the full, I think."</p> + +<p>Together they stood on the steps looking out over the dew-drenched +garden. The white stars of the jasmine which clustered thickly round the +house sent out a delicious fragrance, and there were a dozen other +scents on the soft and balmy air, as though the sleeping stocks and +carnations and mignonette breathed sweetly in their sleep.</p> + +<p>A big white owl flow, hooting, across the path, and Chloe shivered.</p> + +<p>"I hate owls—I always think them unlucky, harbingers of evil," she +said, and her face, as she spoke, was quite pale.</p> + +<p>In an ordinary way Anstice would have deemed it his duty to scoff at +such superstition; but to-night, his nerves unstrung, by the happenings +of the last few days, his bodily vigour at a low ebb, his mind a chaos +of miserable, hopeless memories and fears, Chloe's words woke a quite +unexpected response in his soul.</p> + +<p>"Don't say that, Mrs. Carstairs!" He spoke sharply. "Don't let us talk +of bad luck—to-night of all nights!"</p> + +<p>In the moonlight her narrow blue eyes studied his face with sudden +keenness, and she felt an unusual desire to bring comfort to the soul +which she felt with instinctive certainty stood in need of some help.</p> + +<p>As a rule Chloe Carstairs, like Anstice himself, was too much +preoccupied with the thought of her own private grudge against fate to +have any sympathy to spare for others who might have known that Deity's +frown; but to-night, owing possibly to some softening of her mental +fibres induced by the sight of her child's suffering, she felt oddly +pitiful towards this man, and her inward emotion found vent in words +which surprised her as much as they startled the man to whom they were +addressed.</p> + +<p>"Why to-night, Dr. Anstice? Has this day been to you what it has been to +me—a day of the bitterest suffering I have ever known?"</p> + +<p>The tone of her deep voice, so oddly gentle, the compassionate +expression in her usually cold blue eyes, were too much for Anstice, +whose endurance was nearly at the breaking point; and he turned to her +with a look in his face which dismayed her, so tragic was it.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carstairs, this day I have been in—<i>hell</i>!" The word sounded +cruelly out of place in the quiet moonlit night. "Once before I fancied +I had reached the point at which a man may turn his back on life and its +horrors without thinking himself a pitiful coward. I suffered then—my +God, how I suffered!—but the torture I have endured to-day makes me +feel as though I have never known what suffering is until now."</p> + +<p>Her answer came quickly.</p> + +<p>"But you know now that no man can turn his back on life and yet escape +the allegation of cowardice!" It was an assertion rather than a +question. "Dr. Anstice, I don't ask to know what your suffering has +been—I don't want you to tell me—but one thing I do know, that you, +and men like you, are not the ones who give up the battle when the fight +is fiercest."</p> + +<p>He delayed his answer so long that Chloe had time to feel curiously +frightened by his silence. And when his reply came it was hardly +reassuring.</p> + +<p>"I thought you were too wise a woman to indulge in generalities, Mrs. +Carstairs." His tired voice robbed the words of offence. "And don't you +know that it is never safe to prophesy what a man will do in a battle? +The bravest may turn coward beneath a hail of fire—the man who is +afraid may perform some deed which will entitle him—and rightly—to the +coveted Victoria Cross."</p> + +<p>"Yes." She spoke steadily, her eyes on his face. "But that's the +battlefield of the world, Dr. Anstice, the material, earthly +battlefield. It's the battlefield of the soul I was thinking of just +now; and if I may use a quotation which has been battered out of nearly +all its original fine shape by careless usage, to me the truly brave man +is he who remains to the end the—'captain of his soul!'"</p> + +<p>Her voice sank on the last words; but Anstice had caught her meaning, +and he turned to her with a new light in his tired eyes.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carstairs, thank you for what you've just said. Captain of his +soul—yes, I've heard it often enough, but never stopped to ponder its +meaning. And as the captain mustn't lose his ship if mortal man can +prevent the loss, so a man must bring the ship of his soul safely into +port. Is that what you meant just now?"</p> + +<p>She smiled faintly in the moonlight, and for once there was no mockery +in her smile.</p> + +<p>"We have wandered from our original metaphor of a battlefield," she said +gently, "but I like your simile of a ship better. Yes, I suppose that is +what I was trying to convey—in a confused fashion, I'm afraid. We each +have our voyage to complete, our ship to bring into harbour; and even +though sometimes it seems about to founder"—he knew she alluded to the +catastrophe of her own life—"we must not let it sink if we can keep it +afloat."</p> + +<p>For a moment there was silence between them; and again they heard the +melancholy hoot of the owl, flying homewards now.</p> + +<p>Then Anstice said slowly:</p> + +<p>"You are right, of course. But"—at last his pent-up bitterness burst +its bounds and overflowed in quick, vehement speech—"it's easy enough +for a man to handle his ship carefully when he has some precious thing +on board—or even when he knows some welcoming voice will greet him as +he enters—at last—into his haven. But the man whose ship is empty, who +has no right to expect even one greeting word—is there no excuse for +him if he navigate the seas carelessly?"</p> + +<p>"No." In the moonlight she faced him, and her eyes looked oddly +luminous. "For a derelict's the greatest danger a boat can encounter on +the high seas ... all our boats cross and recross the paths of others, +you know, and no man has the right to place another's ship in peril by +his own—carelessness."</p> + +<p>"By God, you're right," he said vehemently; and she did not resent his +hasty speech. "Mrs. Carstairs, you've done more for me to-night than you +know—and if I can repay you I will, though it cost me all I have in the +world."</p> + +<p>"You can repay me very easily," she said, holding out her hand, all the +motherhood in her coming to the surface. "Save Cherry—she is all <i>I</i> +have—now—in the world; and her little barque, at least, was meant to +dance over summer seas."</p> + +<p>"God helping me, I will save her," he said, taking her hand in a quick, +earnest clasp; and then he entered his waiting car and drove away +without another word, a new courage in his heart.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>And as Chloe gently closed the heavy door on the peaceful, fragrant +world without and returned to the little room where Cherry lay in an +uneasy slumber, she knew that a faint suspicion which had crossed her +mind earlier in the summer had been verified to-night.</p> + +<p>"He too loved Iris," she said to herself, with a rather sad little +smile. "And I thought—once—that she was ready to love him in return. +But, I suppose she preferred Bruce. Only"—Chloe had no illusions on the +subject of her brother—"I believe Dr. Anstice would have made her a +happier woman than Bruce will ever be able to do. And if he"—she did +not refer to Cheniston now—"has lost his chance of happiness to-day, no +wonder he feels that he has been in hell. For there is no hell so +terrible as the one in which a soul who loves wanders alone, without its +beloved," said the woman whose husband had left her because of a cruel +doubt. "From the bottom of my heart I pity that man to-night!"</p> + +<p>And then, re-entering Cherry's little room, pathetic now in its very +brightness of colouring, Chloe forgot all else in the world save the +child who slept, in the narrow bed, watched by Margaret Trevor's soft, +brooding eyes.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_II" id="BOOK_II"></a>BOOK II</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IA" id="CHAPTER_IA"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + + +<p>On a cold and frosty morning in November Anstice was sitting over his +solitary breakfast when the telephone-bell rang; and he left his coffee +to grow cold while he answered the summons.</p> + +<p>It was Sir Richard who was speaking; and even over the wire Anstice +thought he detected an unusual note in the older man's voice.</p> + +<p>"That you, Anstice? Are you busy, or can you spare me a few minutes this +morning?"</p> + +<p>"I'll come to Greengates, of course, if you want me, Sir Richard," said +Anstice immediately. "But I hope you are not ill—nor Lady Laura?"</p> + +<p>"No, my sister's all right—so am I." There was a pause. "But I—well, +I'm rather worried, and I want to see you."</p> + +<p>"Very well, sir. I'll be round at eleven. Will that suit you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, eleven will do well. <i>Au revoir</i> till then," and Sir Richard rang +off with a promptitude which forbade further discussion for the moment.</p> + +<p>As he went back to his cooling coffee Anstice wondered vaguely what Sir +Richard could have to say; but since speculation was mere idle waste of +time he dismissed the matter from his mind and finished his breakfast in +haste.</p> + +<p>It was nearly noon when he drove his car up to the great hall door of +Greengates; but the words of apology for his tardy arrival died on his +lips when he caught sight of Sir Richard's face.</p> + +<p>"I say, I'm afraid you're ill, after all!" Anstice was genuinely +concerned; and Sir Richard's strained features relaxed into a smile.</p> + +<p>"No, I'm perfectly well. Only, as I told you, I have been upset this +morning; and—well, I'll explain and you will see there <i>is</i> something +to worry about."</p> + +<p>Without more ado he walked over to his substantial roll-top desk, and +unlocking a drawer took from thence an envelope which he handled +gingerly as though it were unpleasing to him.</p> + +<p>From the envelope he drew a sheet of thin paper; and Anstice, watching +him closely, felt still more mystified by his distasteful expression.</p> + +<p>For a moment Sir Richard hesitated, still holding the sheet by the tips +of his fingers. Then, as though he had taken a sudden resolve, he turned +to Anstice abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Anstice, this abominable thing reached me this morning. Now +of course I don't need you to tell me that the proper place for it is +the fire, and if it had not been for one circumstance connected with it, +it would have been in the flames by now. But as things are"—he broke +off suddenly and held the thin sheet out to the other man—"well, read +it, and then tell me what you think is the best course to pursue."</p> + +<p>With a premonition of evil for which he could not account, Anstice took +the paper from Sir Richard and, turning to the window so that the pale +autumn sunlight might fall upon the letter, he read the few lines +scrawled in the middle of the sheet.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Dr. Anstice is a murderer he killed a woman in India by shooting +her because she was in the way when he wanted to escape."</p></div> + +<p>That was all. There was no heading, no signature, not even the cynical +assurance of well-wishing which is the hall-mark, so to speak, of the +typical anonymous letter; and as Anstice read the ill-written words his +first sensation was of wonder as to who his secret enemy might be.</p> + +<p>When he had finished he turned the sheet over in his hands to see if +perchance the writer might have more to say; but the other side of the +paper was blank; and he looked at Sir Richard with an expression of +utter bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"Well?" Sir Richard interrogated him with interest. "Pretty sort of +document, eh? I suppose the writing conveys nothing to your mind?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all." Holding the paper to the light, Anstice examined the +ill-formed characters more closely. "It does not resemble any +handwriting I know. But I suppose"—he smiled rather grimly—"the test +of a successful anonymous correspondent is to disguise his writing +efficiently."</p> + +<p>"Yes." Sir Richard stretched out his hand for the paper and Anstice +yielded it to him without regret. "Well, it is pretty evident that +someone has—to put it vulgarly—got his knife into you. The question +is, who can it be?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it's a question I'm not clever enough to answer," returned +Anstice, with assumed lightness. "All men have enemies, I suppose, and I +won't swear I've never made any in my life. But I can't at the moment +recall one who would stoop to fight with such dirty weapons as these."</p> + +<p>"Dirty—that's just the word for it," said Sir Richard disgustedly. "But +you know, Anstice, this sort of thing can't be allowed to go on. For +your own sake, and for the sake of others"—he paused, then repeated +himself deliberately—"for the sake of others it must be stopped—at +once."</p> + +<p>"I quite agree with you that it must be stopped," said Anstice slowly, +"though I hardly see how the matter affects anyone except myself. Of +course"—he looked Sir Richard squarely in the face as he spoke—"it is +no use denying there is a certain amount of truth in this accusation +against me. I wonder if you have the patience to listen to a story—the +story of a great mistake made, unfortunately, by me some years ago."</p> + +<p>For a moment Sir Richard seemed about to speak; yet no word crossed his +lips. Then he said, with a very kindly inflection in his voice:</p> + +<p>"Don't trouble to tell me the story, Anstice. I think I know it +already."</p> + +<p>"You do?" Anstice stared at him. "But who told it to you? Was +it—Cheniston?"</p> + +<p>"No, no." Sir Richard spoke hurriedly. "Cheniston never mentioned the +affair to me. As a matter of fact I heard it, at the time, from his +uncle, a contemporary of mine; but I confess I did not, at first, +associate you with the man who was brave enough—and unfortunate +enough—to carry out that poor girl's wish——"</p> + +<p>"On my honour, sir, I could not have done anything else." Anstice's +voice was full of pain, and Sir Richard put his hand kindly on the +younger man's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Of course you couldn't—no one but a fool could imagine that for a +moment! But as I say, at first I did not connect your name with that of +the hero of the story. It was only on seeing you and Cheniston together +on one or two occasions that I guessed you might, after all, be the +man."</p> + +<p>"Yes—to my everlasting remorse I am the man," said Anstice rather +bitterly. "But since you know the facts of the case, and yet are good +enough to welcome me to your house, I gather this wretched letter +carried no weight with you, Sir Richard. And if that is so, why not tear +it up, and make an end of the thing?"</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment, Anstice. As you say, I know the facts of the case and +even if I were ignorant of them this contemptible <i>canard</i>"—he flicked +the paper angrily—"wouldn't rouse my curiosity to the extent of setting +me searching for some crime in your past." He smiled, but the smile cost +him an effort. "But you see the mischief may not rest here. It is quite +possible other people may have been—victimized—by this morning's +post."</p> + +<p>"By Jove, I hadn't thought of that." Anstice stood biting his lip and +staring thoughtfully ahead of him; and the old man watched the thin, +fine-drawn face with a regard which was full of anxiety. "Naturally a +story of this sort is not calculated to enhance one's popularity; and +one's patients might quite well look askance at a doctor who was reputed +to be a murderer!"</p> + +<p>He paused; then threw back his head impetuously.</p> + +<p>"After all, if they are weak-minded enough to believe an anonymous +statement, they aren't worth bothering with. As it is, I've been +thinking for some time that I've had enough of general practice. I never +intended to go in for it, you know; and if I had a quiet year or two for +research——"</p> + +<p>He broke off suddenly, for Sir Richard had raised his hand almost +entreatingly.</p> + +<p>"Anstice, don't speak of giving up your practice here—not at this +juncture, anyway. You see this vile story may spread; and to quit +Littlefield now would look almost like"—he hesitated—"like cowardice."</p> + +<p>For a second Anstice stared at him, a flash of anger on his brow. Then, +as though dismayed by the effect of his words, Sir Richard spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Besides, there is another aspect of the matter which has evidently not +yet struck you. It is very natural for you to look on this letter as a +loathsome, but quite unimportant, act of spite, on the part of some +secret enemy; and I understand your desire to assume that it does not +matter in the least. But"—his eyes sought the younger man's face +anxiously—"there is another person in this neighbourhood who might be +affected by a fresh flood of anonymous communications. You know to whom +I refer?"</p> + +<p>Suddenly Anstice saw, with a most unwelcome clarity of vision, what Sir +Richard intended to convey; and his eyes grew hard as he replied:</p> + +<p>"You mean——"</p> + +<p>"I mean that once again that unfortunate girl at Cherry Orchard might be +suspected of having recourse to this most degrading, most underhand form +of crime. And for her sake the matter must not be allowed to rest here."</p> + +<p>"Sir Richard"—Anstice came a step nearer his host, and Sir Richard +heard, with satisfaction, the ring of steel in his voice—"you are +right. I did not see, at first, how peculiarly fatal this coincidence +might be. I mean that should these letters, as you suggest, be +circulated through the district, the old scandal would be revived. And +though no sane person could ever believe Mrs. Carstairs guilty of such a +vile action, I suppose there <i>are</i> a good many lunatics about who would +put these atrocious things down to her."</p> + +<p>"Well, you know what people are," said Sir Richard deprecatingly, "and +naturally a woman who has once been convicted, by whatever unfair means, +of the same offence, is liable to be looked on with suspicion. And I +shouldn't like"—for a second Sir Richard, who loved Chloe Carstairs as +though she had been his daughter, faltered, and cleared his throat +rather huskily—"I shouldn't like that poor, pretty creature over yonder +to suffer any further indignity."</p> + +<p>"Of course not!" Anstice's eyes flashed, and he pulled himself together +resolutely. "And if I can help it, she shan't suffer! Just look here, +Sir Richard, the first thing to do is to find out if anyone else has +been, as you say, victimized."</p> + +<p>"Yes." Sir Richard spoke rather dubiously. "And it will be rather hard +to find out that, I fear. You see, naturally a decent man wouldn't +spread the fact abroad; and we can hardly go about making open +inquiries."</p> + +<p>"I suppose not." For a second Anstice was nonplussed, then his face +cleared. "But after all, if anyone—one of my patients, for instance, +has received one of these charming letters, don't you think I shall find +it out? You see, although the average 'decent man,' as you call him, +holds firmly to the theory that the place for an anonymous communication +is the fire, I'm afraid nine out of ten people can't help wondering, +even while they burn it, how much truth there was in the accusation!"</p> + +<p>"Just so—but even then——"</p> + +<p>"Well, something of that rather uncomfortable wonder, not to say +suspicion, is pretty sure to show itself in the manner of the man who's +read the letter. Seriously, Sir Richard, if anyone beside yourself has +received a testimonial to my character" He spoke ironically now—"I'll +guarantee to discover the fact in the course of ten minutes' +conversation with him!"</p> + +<p>"You may be right, Anstice." Sir Richard did not speak with much +conviction. "But for all our sakes I wish we could make certain of the +facts either way. You see, should this lie be circulated through the +district by means of letters or postcards it is inevitable that the old +scandal should be raked up. And in that case Mrs. Carstairs <i>will</i> +suffer."</p> + +<p>A thought struck Anstice suddenly and he gave it utterance forthwith.</p> + +<p>"Sir Richard, I suppose you don't remember whether the handwriting in +any of those other letters resembled this in any way? It is not likely, +so long afterwards, but still——"</p> + +<p>Sir Richard uttered an impatient exclamation.</p> + +<p>"By Gad, what an old fool I am! I've got one of the original letters +locked away in that desk now—one of the half-dozen or so which reached +me when the scandal was at its height. I don't know why I kept it—God +knows I hated the sight of it—but somehow I could never bring myself to +destroy the thing, hoping against hope that it might some day afford a +clue to the identity of the writer."</p> + +<p>He busied himself with a bunch of keys for a moment, and finally +selected one, with which he unlocked a small drawer at the back of his +desk. At first his eagerness prevented him finding what he sought, but +presently he brought to light another and rather worn sheet of paper, +which he handed to Anstice triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, read it, read it!" He had marked Anstice's hesitation. "The +affair's been public property too long for any secrecy now. And that, +after all, was a fairly innocuous screed."</p> + +<p>Thus encouraged, Anstice ran his eye over the sheet of paper, and there +read a veiled, but none the less malignant, attack on the character of +Mrs. Ogden, the wife of the man who had held the living of Littlefield +at the time the letter was written. In his anxiety to compare the +handwriting of the two epistles Anstice barely stopped to take in the +meaning of what he read; and when, in answer to his request, Sir Richard +handed him the second letter he carried them both eagerly to the window +and examined them carefully in the stronger light.</p> + +<p>"Well?" Sir Richard's tone was full of sympathetic interest.</p> + +<p>"One moment—I've got a pocket magnifying glass somewhere." He put the +letters down and plunged his hand into various pockets in eager search. +"Ah—here it is—and we'll jolly soon see if the game hand has been at +work in both."</p> + +<p>Watching him as he pored over the two papers Sir Richard told himself +that with this man for her champion Chloe Carstairs need not fear +further condemnation at the hands of a censorious or jealous world. He +knew instinctively that what made Anstice so suddenly keen on +discovering the authorship of the letters was not a selfish desire to +rid himself of the annoyance such letters might bring upon him, but +rather a determination to prove Chloe Carstairs innocent in the first +instance by bringing home the guilt for both letters—or series of +letters—to the right quarter.</p> + +<p>Sir Richard made no mistake in his estimation of Anstice's chivalrous +desire to right the wrong which had been done to Mrs. Carstairs. He knew +quite well that to Anstice the righting of the wrong appeared in the +light of a duty to the woman whom he called his friend; and that no +warmer emotion animated him in regard to Chloe Carstairs than that same +chivalry.</p> + +<p>For Iris' father had not been blind to the significance of the events of +the summer. Although Anstice had never betrayed his secret by word or +look the other man had all along had a suspicion that Cheniston was not +alone in his love for his pretty daughter; and although naturally he was +ignorant of the compact entered into by the two younger men he had +sometimes wondered, with just the least possible tinge of regret, why +Anstice had apparently been content to leave the field to his rival.</p> + +<p>Although he admitted to himself that he had absolutely no grounds for +believing that Anstice had been in love with Iris he could never rid +himself of the notion; and in any case he felt quite certain that +Anstice had no warmer feeling for Mrs. Carstairs than a very genuine and +chivalrous friendliness.</p> + +<p>Watching the younger man as he stood with bent head examining the papers +Sir Richard was struck by the change in Anstice's face during the last +few months. Always thin, it was now positively haggard, and the black +hair which clustered round his brow was touched, here and there, with +grey. Yet the effect was not one of age. He could hardly be said to look +older than his years; but there was a look of something more painful +than a premature ageing would have been—a look of suffering, of bitter +experience impatiently borne, of a mental conflict which had drawn lines +round the fine lips, and given an air of hopeless weariness to the +deep-set eyes.</p> + +<p>And Sir Richard, watching, wondered again—this time uneasily—whether +the marriage of his beloved little daughter to Bruce Cheniston had +proved yet another trouble for this man's already burdened spirit to +bear.</p> + +<p>Sir Richard had, of course, no idea of the remorse with which Anstice +remembered that terrible scene on the eve of Iris' wedding day, when +Cheniston and the girl he was to marry on the morrow had come to him for +help; and had found him in no fit state to render aid to any human +being.</p> + +<p>That fact alone, the fact that, as he had said bitterly to Chloe +Carstairs, he had failed a child in her need, would have been sufficient +to fill Anstice with a very real and deep regret for his own most +lamentable failure; but added to that was the other and still more +deplorable fact that it had been Iris Wayne who had seen his condition; +and although she had uttered no word of reproach he told himself +hopelessly that now he must have fallen very low in her estimation. And +the idea that Iris must scorn him in her heart, however charitably she +might strive to think of him, was a terrible one to the man who had +fought so heroically for her sake to overcome his weakness, and had +failed only when it had seemed to him that his failure—now—could mean +nothing to the girl he loved.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As Sir Richard watched him, rather uneasily, Anstice turned to him +suddenly.</p> + +<p>"I say, Sir Richard, I'm pretty sure these letters are both written by +one hand! Look, these two 'a's are identical, and the capital 'D' is +absolutely similar in both."</p> + +<p>Oddly thrilled, Sir Richard bent over the papers; and saw that Anstice +had spoken the obvious truth.</p> + +<p>"By Gad, Anstice, you're right!" For a moment he did not know whether to +be disturbed or relieved by the discovery. "It looks uncommonly as +though the same hand were at work again; and in that case——"</p> + +<p>"In that case the mischief-maker shall be brought to book." A new look +of resolution drove away the weary lines from the speaker's face. "I +hope with all my heart it <i>is</i> the same person who's at the old +game—and I'll find out who it is if it costs me every penny I've got!"</p> + +<p>"Quite right, quite the right spirit," said Sir Richard, watching him +keenly the while. "It's damnably unfair that a story of that sort should +be circulated about you—and the blackguard who's responsible deserves a +heavy punishment for the lie."</p> + +<p>In an instant the vivacity died out of Anstice's face; and again its +hopeless expression struck Sir Richard with a sense of pain.</p> + +<p>"Of course the thing is not exactly a lie," he said. "I mean, I did act +too hastily, though God knows I did it for the best. But if the whole +story is to be raked up again—by Jove, I believe after all it would be +better to let sleeping dogs lie!"</p> + +<p>"You forget—this is not the first letter which has fallen like a +bombshell into Littlefield," Sir Richard reminded him quietly; and +Anstice flushed a dull red.</p> + +<p>"Of course not ... what a fool I am! Thinking of the past, of that +horrible morning, I forgot Mrs. Carstairs. But"—he squared his +shoulders aggressively—"I shall not forgot again. This thing is going +to be sifted now, and the mystery solved. May I take these letters with +me?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly." Sir Richard felt Anstice had the better right to the +documents. "You will take care of them, of course; and if you follow my +advice you will not show them to anyone—yet."</p> + +<p>"Quite so." Anstice put the two letters carefully away in his +pocket-book. "Now I must go, Sir Richard; but please believe I am +grateful for your kindness in this matter."</p> + +<p>He shook hands with Sir Richard, and hurried away to his waiting car; +and as he drove from the house his lips were firmly set together, and +the look in his eyes betokened no good to the wretched creature who had +penned this latest communication.</p> + +<p>And Sir Richard, watching him from a side window, felt a sharp pang of +regret that this man, whom he liked and trusted, had not managed, +apparently, to win his daughter's affection.</p> + +<p>"Damme if I wouldn't rather have had him for a son-in-law than the +other," he said to himself presently. "Cheniston's a decent fellow +enough, brainy and a thoroughly steady sort of chap, but there is +something about this man that I rather admire. It may be his pluck, or +his quiet tenacity of purpose—I'm hanged if I know what it is; but on +my soul I'm inclined to wish I'd been called upon to give my little girl +into his keeping. As for that affair in India, it's not every man who +would have had the pluck to shoot the girl, and precious few men would +have lived it down as he has done. I believe I'd have put a bullet +through my brain if it had been me," said Sir Richard honestly, "but I +can quite realize that it's a long sight finer to see the thing through. +And if there's to be fresh trouble over these confounded anonymous +scrawls, well, I'll stick to the fellow through thick and thin!"</p> + +<p>And with this meritorious resolve Sir Richard went back to his +comfortable fire and the paper which he had not, as yet, had the heart +to peruse.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IIA" id="CHAPTER_IIA"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + + +<p>On the day following Sir Richard's interview with Anstice the latter +received an unexpected call from the Vicar of Littlefield parish.</p> + +<p>The two men were on fairly intimate terms. For the clergyman, as a +scholar and a gentleman, Anstice had a real respect, though the +religious side of Mr. Carey's office, as expressed in his spiritual +ministrations, could hardly be expected to appeal to the man who could +never rid himself of the feeling that God had deliberately failed him at +a critical moment.</p> + +<p>Mr. Carey, on his side, had a genuine liking for Anstice, whose skill he +admired with the impersonal admiration which a specialist in one +profession accords to an expert in another vocation. But mingled with +his admiration was an uneasy suspicion that all was not well with the +spiritual health of this most indifferent of his parishioners, and he +was grieved, with the charity of a large and generous nature, by the +gloom, the melancholy, which at times were written only too plainly on +the other's face.</p> + +<p>The two men were brought into contact now and again by the very nature +of their respective callings. Soul and body are after all so closely +related that the health of the one depends largely on that of the other; +and at times both priest and physician must take their share in the +gracious task of healing. And on the occasions when their work brought +them together the mutual liking and respect between the two was sensibly +strengthened.</p> + +<p>So that it did not cause Anstice more than a passing sensation of +surprise when on this cold and raw November evening the Reverend Fraser +Carey was announced as a visitor.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Carey here? Where have you taken him, Alice?"</p> + +<p>"Into the drawing-room, sir. The fire's not lighted, but I can put a +match to it in a moment."</p> + +<p>"No, don't do that." Anstice hated the little-used drawing-room. "Take +Mr. Carey into my room, and bring up some coffee directly, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir." The maid, who in common with the rest of the household +regarded Anstice with an admiration not unmixed with awe, withdrew to +carry out her instructions; and hastily finishing an important letter, +Anstice went in search of his rare visitor.</p> + +<p>"Hallo, Carey—jolly good of you to look me up on a beastly night like +this." He poked the fire into a brighter blaze, and drew forward a +capacious leather chair. "Sit down and light up. We'll have some coffee +presently—I know you don't care for anything stronger."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Anstice." Mr. Carey sank down into the big chair and held his +transparent-looking hands to the flames. "It is a bad night, as you say, +and this fire is uncommonly cosy."</p> + +<p>Fraser Carey was a man of middle age who, through constitutional +delicacy, looked older than his years. His features, well-cut in +themselves, were marred by the excessive thinness and pallor of his +face; and his eyes, beneath their heavy lids, told a story of unrestful +nights spent in wrestling with some mental or physical pain which +forbade the refreshment of sleep. He had never consulted Anstice +professionally, though he had called upon his services on behalf of a +little niece who sometimes visited him; and Anstice wondered now and +then what scruple it was which prevented his friend making use of such +skill as he might reasonably claim to possess.</p> + +<p>To-night Carey looked even more tired, more fragile than ever; and +Anstice refrained from speech until he had poured out two cups of +deliciously fragrant coffee and had seen that Carey's pipe was in full +blast.</p> + +<p>Then: "It is quite a time since you dropped in for a chat," he said +cheerfully. "Yet this isn't a specially busy season of the year for you +parsons, is it? <i>We</i> are run off our legs with influenza and all the +rest of it, thanks to the weather, but you——"</p> + +<p>"We parsons are generally busy, you know," returned Carey with a smile. +"Human nature being what it is there is no close-time for sin—nor for +goodness either, God be thanked," he added hastily.</p> + +<p>"I suppose not." Having satisfactorily loaded his pipe Anstice lay back +and puffed luxuriously. "In any case I'm glad you've found time to drop +in. By the way, there is a woman down in Blue Row about whom I wanted to +see you. I think you know the family—the man is a blacksmith, Richards +by name."</p> + +<p>He outlined the needs of the case, and Carey took a few notes in the +little book he carried for the purpose. After that the conversation +ranged desultorily over various local matters mildly interesting to +both; and then there fell a sudden pause which Anstice at least felt to +be significant.</p> + +<p>It was broken, abruptly, by the clergyman, who sat upright in his chair, +and, laying his empty pipe down on the table, turned to face his host +more fully.</p> + +<p>"Anstice." His thin, rather musical voice held a new and arresting note. +"My visit to you to-night was not of, a purely social nature. I came +because—I may have been wrong—because I felt it to be both an +obligation and an act of friendship to come here to discuss with you a +peculiar situation which has arisen within the last day or two in +Littlefield."</p> + +<p>Instantly Anstice guessed what was to follow; and he knocked the ashes +out of his pipe with a rather impatient gesture which was not lost on +the other man.</p> + +<p>"If you will listen to me for one moment," said Carey hastily, "you may +then refuse to discuss the subject if you wish. But I think it will +really be better if you can bring yourself to listen to me first."</p> + +<p>Even Anstice's annoyance was not proof against the other man's +moderation; and he spoke with creditable mildness.</p> + +<p>"I think I know what you want to say, Carey. Is it—this interesting +subject—concerned with certain statements which are being made about +me—anonymously—in the parish?"</p> + +<p>Carey's face lost a little of its uneasiness.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "since you appear to be already acquainted with the fact +there is no use in denying it. Indeed, I don't wish to do so, seeing +that is what I came to say to you."</p> + +<p>"You have received such a letter yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I received a letter this morning."</p> + +<p>"I see." For a moment Anstice sat in silence, his lips set firmly +together; and the other man, watching, was struck, as Sir Richard had +been on the previous day, by the look of suffering in his face. "Well, +Carey, is it asking you too much to let me know exactly what form the +accusation against me took? Or have you the letter with you?"</p> + +<p>"No. I burnt the letter immediately," Carey answered. "Naturally such +communications are best destroyed—and forgotten—at once. But"—he +hesitated—"the fact is I have since discovered that I am not the only +person to be addressed by the unknown correspondent."</p> + +<p>"Indeed?" Anstice's eyes flashed. "Is it permissible to ask who else has +been thus—honoured?"</p> + +<p>The clergyman paused a moment before replying, and it was evident a +conflict was taking place in his mind. The struggle was, however, soon +terminated, and he answered Anstice's question resolutely.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is quite permissible. Indeed, I had already gained the consent +of the other—victim"—he smiled deprecatingly—"to tell you, if +necessary, what was being said behind your back."</p> + +<p>"Well?" Anstice's tone was peremptory, but his friend did not resent it.</p> + +<p>"The other anonymous letter—the only other one of which I have any +knowledge—was addressed to the wife of your colleague—I don't think +he's your rival—Dr. Willows."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Anstice opened his eyes; he had not expected this revelation. +"Poor little woman! What a shame to victimize her!"</p> + +<p>"Yes—as you know, she's quite a girl, they've only been married three +months; and the letter worried her considerably—so much so, in fact, +that as Willows is away on a week's holiday she sent for me to advise +her in the matter."</p> + +<p>"What advice did you give her?"</p> + +<p>"Well, in the first flush of indignation she was all for sending the +horrid thing on to you—a pretty sure sign that any accusation against +you had missed its mark," said Carey with a smile. "However, her heart +failed her at the critical moment and she sent for me instead. She was +at school with some young cousins of mine and we are on quite friendly +terms; so she confided her perplexity to me at once."</p> + +<p>"I see." Anstice was thinking hard. "And I suppose you returned her +confidence by giving her yours?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." Carey looked at him frankly. "I requested her to keep my +confidence as I would keep hers—save to you—and I am sure she will do +so. But"—he spoke gravely now—"I am afraid, Anstice, there is someone +in the neighbourhood who wishes to work you ill."</p> + +<p>"By the way"—Anstice was not listening very closely—"you have not yet +told me the nature of the accusation. I presume it was the same in both +cases?"</p> + +<p>"Practically, yes. It was a statement, made very plainly and directly, +that you—you——"</p> + +<p>He broke off, his thin cheeks flushing; and Anstice smiled rather dryly.</p> + +<p>"Don't let it distress you," he said, with an attempt at jocularity. +"Suppose I save you the trouble of repeating the contents of the +letters. I daresay the writer stated that I once, in order to get myself +out of a tight place in India, wantonly sacrificed the woman who was my +companion?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Carey slowly, "that was the substance of both +communications. The idea was, I gather, to prevent the recipients having +confidence in you by pointing to you as one who would save himself at +the expense of a woman. Of course"—he spoke more fluently now—"no one +who knew you would dream of attaching any weight whatever to that sort +of cruel and senseless lie; and as I told Mrs. Willows, such a baseless +slander is better left to die for want of notice. She quite agreed with +me," he added hastily, and Anstice's face cleared.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Carey." He held out his hand, and Carey's transparent, fingers +clasped it with a strength which would have been surprising to one who +did not know the indomitable spirit which dwelt in the wasted frame. +"You are a true friend, and your friendship deserves some return. +Unfortunately the only return I can make is to tell you the miserable +story which is perverted by the anonymous writer into something less +creditable than—I hope—you will judge it to be."</p> + +<p>He sprang up suddenly and leaned against the mantelpiece, hands in +pockets as usual; and in that position, looking down on his friend as he +sat in his capacious chair, he outlined once again the happenings of +that bygone Indian dawn.</p> + +<p>He related the affair shortly—it was not a subject on which he cared to +dwell; and the clergyman listened thoughtfully, his sunken eyes fixed on +the pale face beneath the clustering black hair with an intentness of +regard which would have disturbed anyone less engrossed than the +narrator of the sad little story.</p> + +<p>When he had finished Anstice moved abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's the truth—and now you see that those statements made +about me are the most insidious form of lying—with a good foundation of +half-truths. That's what makes it so infernally hard to refute them."</p> + +<p>"I see." Carey loaned forward thoughtfully, shielding his face from the +flames with his thin hands. "It is a pitiful story, Anstice; and if you +will allow me to say so I admire and respect a man who can live down the +memory of a tragedy as you have done."</p> + +<p>"I have lived it down—yes," said Anstice, rather grimly. "But it's been +jolly hard at times not to throw up the sponge. Several people have +suggested—discreetly—that suicide is quite justifiable in cases of +this sort, but——"</p> + +<p>"Suicide is <i>never</i> justifiable." The clergyman's delicate features +stiffened. "From the days of Judas Iscariot—the most notorious suicide +in the history of the world, I suppose—it has been the refuge of the +coward, the ingrate, the weak-minded. People talk of the pluck required +to enable a man to take his own life. What pluck is there in +deliberately turning one's back on the problems one hasn't the courage, +or the patience, to solve? Believe me, suicide—self-murder—is an +unthinkable resource to a really brave man."</p> + +<p>He stopped; but Anstice made no reply, though a rather cynical smile +played about his lips; and presently Carey went on speaking.</p> + +<p>"It always seems to me such sheer folly, such egregious lunacy, to +precipitate one's self into the unknown, seeing that one can hardly +expect the Giver of Life to welcome the soul He has not called. And I +have often wondered what depths of misery, of shame, must overwhelm the +uninvited soul in what someone has called 'the first five minutes after +Death.'"</p> + +<p>His voice sank to a whisper on the last words; and for a moment the room +was very still. Then Carey leaned forward and laid one hand on the +other's arm with a rather deprecating smile.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, Anstice! The subject we were discussing is one on which I +find it difficult to hold my peace. But knowing you, I know that suicide +is not, would never be, the way out to one of your disposition."</p> + +<p>Anstice moved restlessly.</p> + +<p>"Odd you should use that expression," he said quickly. "Others have +employed it in connection with this miserable story of mine. No, suicide +is not the way out—nor is another expedient to which I have had +recourse. But"—suddenly his face lost its quietness and grew keen, +alert—"this slander has got to be stopped. You see this is not the +first time the neighborhood has been infested with this plague."</p> + +<p>"You refer to the unhappy circumstances connected with my predecessor's +wife?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. You know the story, of course?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I am also acquainted—but very slightly—with Mrs. Carstairs."</p> + +<p>"Then you know a much-maligned woman," said Anstice. "And it is in order +to save her from further unhappiness that I intend to sift this matter +to the bottom."</p> + +<p>"I am delighted to hear you say so," said Carey earnestly. "And if I can +help you in any way my services are yours. First of all, how do you +propose starting on the sifting process?"</p> + +<p>"I have already made a start," rejoined Anstice. "Through the good +offices of Sir Richard Wayne, who has also been pestered with a letter, +I have discovered that the writing of those communications and of those +earlier ones you mentioned just now is in many respects identical."</p> + +<p>Carey sat upright, his face alight with interest.</p> + +<p>"Really? You think the writer of both is the same?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Of course until I have studied the two letters in my possession a +little more closely I can't be positively certain on the point; but I +intend to submit them both to an expert at the first opportunity."</p> + +<p>"I can help you there," said Carey quite eagerly. "I mean, if you do not +know of a reliable expert I can give you the name of the cleverest man +in England."</p> + +<p>"Can you?" Anstice's notebook was out in a second. "Thanks very much—I +will write to him to-morrow. But in my own mind I have not a shadow of +doubt that the same person wrote them both."</p> + +<p>"By the way"—Carey spoke slowly—"how many people about here would be +likely to know the story you have told me to-night? Out in India, of +course, there might be some who would remember such a tragic episode. +But it's a far cry from Alostan to Littlefield."</p> + +<p>"The only people in the neighbourhood who have heard the true story are, +so far as I know, Sir Richard Wayne and"—he hesitated—"and his +daughter, who is now Mrs. Cheniston."</p> + +<p>"I see." Fraser Carey's eyes had noted the change of tone as Anstice +spoke the last name; and his quick humanism was stirred by the pitiful +idea which crossed his mind. "Sir Richard's daughter knew the story? +And—may we conclude that her husband would naturally share her +knowledge?"</p> + +<p>"Naturally—yes." He emphasized the word. "You see I omitted to tell you +that the girl I—the girl who was with me in the hut was engaged to this +very man, Bruce Cheniston, whom Miss Wayne eventually married."</p> + +<p>"Was she, indeed?" Carey was really surprised. "What a strange +coincidence that you should meet again—as I suppose you met—in +Littlefield."</p> + +<p>"We met, yes," said Anstice, his eyes growing fierce at the remembrance +of their meeting. "But—well, as you will readily see, none of those +persons is in the least likely to have anything to do with the letters +we are discussing. I daresay Mrs. Carstairs may possibly know the +story—if her brother saw fit to hand it on to her. But so far as I know +they are the only people who do know it, and naturally we can write all +of them off the list of suspects at once."</p> + +<p>"Quite so. I wonder"—Carey rose as he spoke—"I wonder if anyone else +has received one of those shameful letters? Of course should the matter +go no further there is not much real harm done, though of course——"</p> + +<p>"Whether there are other letters or not the matter is going to be +thoroughly investigated," said Anstice resolutely; and Carey experienced +a disturbing and quite unusual pang of regret for his own vanished youth +and strength as he heard the ring of determination in the other man's +voice, noted the firm set of his lips and the proud and dauntless +gesture with which he threw back his head, his black eyes sparkling.</p> + +<p>"Well, I shall follow the course of events with deep interest," he said, +striving as he spoke to fight down that unworthy sensation of envy of +another's superior equipment for the battle of life. "Of course I will +keep my own counsel; and in a few days at latest you should know whether +your enemy intends to strike again."</p> + +<p>"It is very good of you to take an interest in the horrible affair." +Anstice was really grateful. "Must you go? You haven't given me much of +your company to-night."</p> + +<p>"I must go—yes." His smile robbed the words of any discourtesy. "But +don't forget to call upon me if you want any help. And for the sake of +all concerned, but especially, if I may say so, for the sake of the poor +lady at Cherry Orchard, I trust you may be able to clear the matter up +for all the world to see."</p> + +<p>"It is chiefly for Mrs. Carstairs' sake that I intend to do so," +returned Anstice briefly. "Personally I don't care what may be said +about me; but I don't mean Mrs. Carstairs to be victimized further. And +if it costs me every penny I've got in the world the writer of these +letters shall be brought to book!"</p> + +<p>And Fraser Carey agreed, mentally, with Sir Richard's estimation of Mrs. +Carstairs' new champion. But he went further than Sir Richard, in that +he found occasion to wonder whether after all this unexpected and +unwelcome repetition of the former anonymous campaign which had +convulsed Littlefield might not in the end prove the salvation of the +man against whom it was presumably directed.</p> + +<p>Unlike Sir Richard, Carey was an observer of men, a student of human +nature, and he had not failed to notice the increased alertness which +had characterized Anstice this evening as he discussed the situation. +The rather bitter, indifferent look which generally clouded his face had +lifted, giving way to a brighter, more open expression; and the half +melancholy cynicism which Carey had deplored had vanished before the +eager determination to see an innocent and wronged woman righted in the +eyes of the world.</p> + +<p>"The man has brooded so long over what he considers to be an injustice +of God that he has lost, temporarily, his sense of proportion," said +Carey to himself as he trudged, rather wearily, homeward. "But if he +devotes himself, as he seems anxious to do, to the service of a woman +who has suffered an equal injustice, though at the hands of man this +time, possibly he will forgot his own bitterness in the contemplation of +her marred life. And God, who is the God of Justice, whatever scoffers +may say, will bring the truth to light in His own good time. So the two +tragedies may react on one another; for the lives of all of us are bound +together by mysterious and undreamed-of links; and in the effort to free +the soul of a woman from its bondage his own soul may well find its +freedom."</p> + +<p>But Fraser Carey was a mystic; and since the materialistic world looks +with suspicion on mysticism, it is probable that even Anstice, who knew +and respected him, would have heard his last speech with a passing +wonder that a man should hold so unpractical and untenable a view of +existence as the words would seem to imply.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IIIA" id="CHAPTER_IIIA"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + + +<p>Before he went to bed on the night of Carey's visit to him Anstice wrote +a letter to the expert recommended by his friend, inquiring whether an +appointment could be made for the following Friday afternoon; and on +Thursday night a laconic telegram arrived fixing three o'clock on Friday +for the suggested interview.</p> + +<p>It had seemed to Anstice that a personal interview with the expert would +be far more satisfactory than a prolonged correspondence; and he hurried +through his work on Friday morning and caught the noon express to London +with a minute to spare.</p> + +<p>He had the carriage to himself; and during the quick journey to town he +pored over the two specimens of handwriting which he was taking up for +examination until he was more than ever convinced that both were written +by the same hand.</p> + +<p>Mr. Clive, the noted handwriting expert, had a flat in Lincoln's Inn; +and thither Anstice hastened in a taxi, arriving just as the clocks of +London were striking three; a feat in punctuality which possibly +accounted for the pleasant smile with which Mr. Clive greeted his +visitor.</p> + +<p>The expert was a tall and thin person, with deep-set and brilliant eyes +hidden more or less by a pair of rimless eyeglasses; and Anstice was +suddenly and humorously reminded of the popular idea of a detective as +exemplified in Sherlock Holmes and his accomplished brethren.</p> + +<p>When he smiled Mr. Clive lost his somewhat austere expression; and as +Anstice obeyed his invitation to enter his sitting-room the latter felt +that he had come to the right person with whom to discuss the problem of +these annoying letters.</p> + +<p>"Now, Dr. Anstice." Clive pushed forward a chair for his visitor and +sank into another one himself, leaning back and joining his finger-tips +in a manner which again reminded Anstice involuntarily of the +super-detective. "I expect your time is as valuable as mine—probably +more so—and we won't waste it in preliminaries. I gather you have some +specimens of handwriting to submit to me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I have two letters to show you." He drew them carefully from his +notebook. "What I want to know is, whether they were both written by the +same hand or not."</p> + +<p>Mr. Clive unlaced his finger-tips and took the papers carefully from his +visitor; after which, rather to Anstice's amusement, he removed his +eyeglasses and proceeded to study the letters without their aid.</p> + +<p>For several minutes he pored over them in silence, the letters spread +out on the table before him; and Anstice, watching, could make nothing +of the inscrutable expression on his face. Presently he rose, went to a +little cabinet at the end of the room, and took from it a small +magnifying glass, with whose aid he made a further study of the two +documents; after which he resumed his eyeglasses and turned to Anstice +with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Your little problem is quite simple, Dr. Anstice," he said amiably. "As +soon as I looked at these letters I guessed them to be the work of one +hand. With the help of my glass I know my guess to be correct."</p> + +<p>For a moment Anstice could not tell whether he were relieved or +disappointed by this confirmation of his own suspicions; but the expert +did not wait for his comments.</p> + +<p>"If you will look through the glass you will see that the similarities +in many of the letters are so striking that there is really no possible +question as to their being written by one hand." He pushed the papers +and glass across to Anstice, who obediently bent over the table and +studied the letters as they lay before him. "For instance"—Clive moved +to Anstice's side and, leaning over his shoulder, pointed with a slim +finger—"that 'I' in India is identical with the one with which this +letter opens; and that 's' with its curly tail could not possibly have +been traced by any hand save that which wrote this one. There are other +points of resemblance—the spaces between the words, for instance—which +prove conclusively, to my mind at least, that the letters are the work +of one person; but I expect you have already formed an opinion of your +own on the subject."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Anstice. "To be frank, I have. I was quite sure in my own +mind that they were written by one person; but I wanted an expert +opinion. And now the only thing to be discovered is—who is that +person?"</p> + +<p>Clive smiled.</p> + +<p>"That is a different problem—and a more difficult one," he said +quietly. "These anonymous letters are very often exceedingly hard nuts +to crack. But probably you have someone in your mind's eye already."</p> + +<p>"No," said Anstice quickly, moved by a sudden desire to enlist this +man's sympathy and possible help. "I'm completely in the dark. But I +intend to find out who wrote these things. I suppose"—for a second he +hesitated—"I suppose it isn't in your province to give me any possible +clue as to the identity of the writer?"</p> + +<p>The other laughed rather dryly.</p> + +<p>"I'm not a clairvoyant," he said, "and I can't tell from handling a +letter who wrote it, as the psychometrists profess to be able to do. But +I will tell you one or two points I have noted in connection with these +things." He flicked them rather disdainfully with his finger. "They are +written by a woman—and I should not wonder if that woman were a +foreigner."</p> + +<p>"A foreigner?" Anstice was genuinely surprised. "I say, what makes you +think that? The writing is not foreign."</p> + +<p>"No. You are right there inasmuch as the regulation writing of a +foreigner, French, Italian, Spanish, is fine and pointed in character, +while this is more round, more sprawling and clumsy. But"—he frowned +thoughtfully, and Anstice thought he looked more like Sherlock Holmes +than ever—"there is one point in connection with this last letter which +has evidently not struck you. Suppose you read it through carefully once +more, and see if you can discover something in it which appears a trifle +un-English, so to speak."</p> + +<p>Anstice took the second letter as desired, and read it through +carefully, while Clive watched him with an interest which was not +feigned. Although Anstice had no suspicion of the fact, Clive, who had +travelled in India, had in the light of that letter identified his +visitor directly with the central figure in that bygone tragedy in +Alostan; and although, owing to his absence from England, Clive had not +been one of the experts consulted in the Carstairs case, it was not hard +for him to place the first letter as belonging to that notorious series +of anonymous scrawls which had roused so much interest in the Press a +couple of years before this date.</p> + +<p>Just where the connection between the two cases came Clive could not +discover, but he had always felt a curiously strong sympathy with the +unknown man who had carried out a woman's wish just ten minutes too +soon, and he would willingly have helped Anstice to solve this problem +if he could have seen his way to find the solution.</p> + +<p>Presently Anstice looked up rather apologetically.</p> + +<p>"I'm awfully stupid, but I don't see what you mean about a +foreigner...."</p> + +<p>Clive smiled.</p> + +<p>"Don't you? Well, I'll explain. And after all I may be wrong, you know. +However, here goes." He bent down again and pointed to the word India, +which for some reason was set in inverted commas. "Don't you notice any +peculiarities about these commas? Think of the usual manner in which an +English writer uses them—and note the difference here."</p> + +<p>Anstice studied the word with suddenly keen attention, and instantly +noted the peculiarity of which Clive had spoken.</p> + +<p>"The first double comma, so to speak, is set below the line, and the +other one above. But English writers and printers use both above the +line. Isn't that so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Whereas in the majority of French or Italian printing the commas +are set as they are here—a trick which, to my mind, points to the +strong probability, at least, of the writer of this letter being a +foreigner of sorts."</p> + +<p>"Italian! Why——" Suddenly a vision of the woman with the Italian name, +Tochatti, Mrs. Carstairs' personal attendant, flashed into Anstice's +mind, and Clive's eyes grew still keener in expression as he noted the +eager tone in his visitor's voice.</p> + +<p>"Well?" As Anstice paused the expert spoke quickly. "Does the suggestion +convey anything to your mind?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Anstice. "It does. But the only Italian—or +half-Italian—person I know, a woman, by the way, is absolutely the last +one I could suspect in the matter."</p> + +<p>"Really?" As he spoke Clive removed his eyeglasses once more and stared +with his brilliant eyes at the other man's face. "Don't forget that in +cases like these it is generally the last person to be suspected who +turns out to be the one responsible. Of course I don't know the facts of +the case, and my suggestions are therefore of little practical value. At +the same time the very fact that you are able at once to identify an +Italian in the case——"</p> + +<p>"She is not altogether Italian," said Anstice slowly. "She's a +half-breed, so to speak—and I really can't in fairness suspect her, +devoted as she is to Mrs. Carstairs——"</p> + +<p>He broke off abruptly, annoyed with himself for having betrayed so much; +but Clive's manner suddenly became more animated.</p> + +<p>"See here, Dr. Anstice." He sat down again, and handed his cigarette +case to his visitor. "May I be frank with you?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly." He accepted a cigarette and Clive resumed immediately.</p> + +<p>"I think I am correct in assuming that the first letter is one of those +supposed—by some people—to have been written by Mrs. Carstairs, wife +of Major Carstairs of the Indian Army?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." It would have been folly to deny the correctness of the +assumption.</p> + +<p>"Well, I was not professionally interested in the case, but all along I +have had very grave doubts as to the course of justice in that unhappy +affair. And I have always thought the sentence was unjustifiably +severe."</p> + +<p>Anstice's face cleared, and his manner lost its first stiffness.</p> + +<p>"I am glad to hear you say so," he said heartily. "For my own part I am +perfectly convinced Mrs. Carstairs was absolutely innocent in the +matter. You see, I have the privilege of her acquaintance, and it would +be quite impossible for her to stoop to so low and degrading an action."</p> + +<p>"Just so." For a second the expert wondered whether Dr. Anstice's +interest in Mrs. Carstairs arose from a purely personal dislike to see +an innocent woman unjustly accused or from some warmer feeling; but +after all it was no concern of his, and he dismissed that aspect of the +case from his mind for the present. "But I should like to ask you to +explain one thing to me. Would it have been possible for this Italian +woman of whom you speak to have written those former letters? I gather +that it is not altogether impossible, though I daresay improbable, for +her to be connected with this last one; but of course, if she must be +acquitted of any hand in the first, the clue drops to the ground at +once."</p> + +<p>"Well"—for a second Anstice hesitated, then resolved to speak plainly. +"To tell you the truth, it would have been quite possible for her to be +mixed up in both affairs—save for one thing. The woman, is a servant in +the household of Mrs. Carstairs; but she's not only absolutely devoted +to her mistress, but is also unable to write even her name."</p> + +<p>"What proof have you of that?" The question shot out so abruptly that +Anstice was genuinely startled.</p> + +<p>"Proof? Well, the woman herself admits it, and certainly she has never +been seen to write so much as a word——"</p> + +<p>"That does not prove she could not write quite well if she wished to," +said Clive quietly. "People do strange things in this queer world of +ours, Dr. Anstice, as I expect you know considerably better than I do. +Have you never had an hysterical patient who declared she could not walk +and after being carried about for months has been discovered dancing a +fandango in her bedroom on the sly?"</p> + +<p>He laughed and threw away his cigarette.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps that's not quite a typical case, but you must have known of +many people who declare they have lost the use of one or more of their +faculties—possibly in order to gain sympathy from their friends?"</p> + +<p>"Quite so." Anstice could not but admit the fact. "But as you say, in +these cases there is generally some definite object to be gained, even +if it is only the desire for sympathy. In this case, however, the motive +appears to be lacking, for I gather that long before the anonymous +letters began to arrive this woman had admitted her inability to handle +pen or pencil."</p> + +<p>"Really? That complicates matters a little," said Clive thoughtfully. +"Though, of course, if the woman were a schemer it is possible she might +prepare the way, so to speak, for some time beforehand. In any case it +is an interesting problem. But I don't quite see why this +woman—supposing it to be she—? should start another campaign, +directed, this time, against you. Surely she can't want her mistress, to +whom you say she is devoted, to be suspected once more?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know—I confess it is a problem beyond my powers to solve," +said Anstice rather hopelessly; and Clive answered at once, with a kind +note in his voice.</p> + +<p>"Don't say that, Dr. Anstice. All sorts of mysteries have come to light +sooner or later, you know, and it is quite on the cards this one may be +easier to solve than you think at present. At any rate, if I may give +you a word of advice, keep your eye on the Italian woman. I'll swear +those inverted commas are of foreign origin, and as a doctor you ought +to be able to find some way of penetrating through any imposition in the +way of pretence."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said Anstice, rather amused at this tribute to his powers. +"I'll do my best. Anyway, you have given me valuable help, and I'll +follow up this clue at once."</p> + +<p>"Do—and let me know the result." Clive followed his visitor to the +door. "I really am genuinely interested in the case, and I shall be +pleased to hear from you how things progress."</p> + +<p>They parted on mutually cordial terms, and an Anstice walked away he +began to feel as though, after all, this mystery might yet be solved; +though he was bound to confess that at present the introduction of +Tochatti's name merely complicated matters.</p> + +<p>He had a couple of hours to fill in before repairing to the station, and +feeling in the mood for exercise, he set out for a brisk walk, careless +of whither his steps led him while he pondered over his recent interview +with Clive.</p> + +<p>After the quiet and pastoral solitude of Littlefield London seemed +unpleasantly crowded and noisy. The reek of petrol was a poor substitute +for the clean country air, and the hoot of innumerable motors and 'buses +struck on his ear with new and singularly disagreeable force as he took +his way along Piccadilly.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a noise considerably louder and more ominous than the rest +penetrated his hearing, and looking hastily round he saw that a +collision had taken place between a taxi-cab and a motor-van bearing the +name of a well-known firm in Oxford Street—with apparently tragic +results to the taxi-cab, which lurched in the road like a drunken man +vainly attempting to steer a straight course, and eventually toppled +half over on to the pavement, where it struck a lamp-post with a +terrific crash as it came to rest.</p> + +<p>With the rapidity peculiar to the life of cities a crowd instantly began +to assemble; and as a burly policeman, notebook in hand, pushed through +the people, a middle-aged gentleman stepped, with some difficulty, out +of the wrecked cab, and stumbled forward on to the kerb, almost into the +arms of Anstice, who reached the spot at the same moment and caught him +as he staggered and seemed about to fall.</p> + +<p>"Hold up, sir!" Anstice involuntarily gripped the gentleman's shoulder +to support him; and his friendly tone and prompt help apparently assured +the other man, who pulled himself together pluckily.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, thanks!" He was white, and evidently had been somewhat upset, +for the taxi had swerved half across the road to the discomfort of its +occupant. "You are most kind. I am really not hurt, only a little +shaken. The driver of the van was entirely to blame—I hope, constable, +you will make all possible inquiries into the matter."</p> + +<p>As a first step towards doing so the policeman stolidly requested the +speaker's name and address, and these having been furnished he proceeded +to interrogate the van-driver and the taxi-man, both of whom were only +too ready to pour out voluble explanations, each accusing the other of +carelessness with a freedom of language only known, apparently, to those +who have intimate acquaintance with the dark ways of motors and their +accompanying vices.</p> + +<p>In the meantime the middle-aged gentleman turned to Anstice with a word +of gratitude for his timely support.</p> + +<p>"You're sure you're not hurt?" Anstice thought the other man looked +oddly white. "I'm a doctor—and if I can do anything for you——"</p> + +<p>"No, I'm really all right, thanks." He relinquished Anstice's arm, which +he had been unconsciously holding, and looked round him. "By good luck +I'm opposite my club, and if this fellow has finished with me I'll go in +and sit down."</p> + +<p>The constable intimated that he had no further need of him for the +moment; and having asserted his readiness to appear in court in +connection with the case he turned back to Anstice.</p> + +<p>"Will you come in and have a peg with me?" His invitation was cordial. +"I'm all alone—just back from India, and if you can spare five minutes, +I'll be glad of your company."</p> + +<p>"Thanks." Anstice was curiously attracted towards the man. "I'm killing +time, waiting for a train, and I'll come with pleasure."</p> + +<p>They went up the steps of the building outside which the accident had +occurred; and five minutes later his new friend, brushed and tidied, +every speck of dust removed from his well-cut suit, led him to a +comfortable corner of the smoking-room and invited him to take a seat, +calling to a waiter as they sat down.</p> + +<p>"What will you drink—whisky-and-soda? Right—I'll have the same—a +large whisky for me," he said, as the man moved away. "I really feel as +though I want a stiff drink," he added, rather apologetically, to +Anstice.</p> + +<p>"I expect you do—your taxi came a fearful bump on the kerb," said +Anstice, "You were lucky not to get shoved through the window."</p> + +<p>"Yes—it was down, fortunately, or I might have got in quite a nasty +mess with cut glass." He hesitated a moment. "By the way, shall we +exchange cards? Here's mine, at any rate."</p> + +<p>He laughed and pushed the slip of pasteboard over to Anstice, who +returned the courtesy before picking it up. But as the latter glanced at +it perfunctorily, with no premonition of the surprise in store for him, +the name he read thereon sent a sudden thrill through his veins; and he +uttered a quite involuntary exclamation which caused his companion to +look up in amazement.</p> + +<p>For by one of those strange coincidences which happen every day, yet +never lose their strangeness, the man who sat opposite to Anstice on +this murky November afternoon was Chloe Carstairs' husband, Major +Carstairs.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IVA" id="CHAPTER_IVA"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + + +<p>For a moment his <i>vis-à-vis</i> regarded him with a very natural surprise. +Then:</p> + +<p>"You seem a little astonished," he said, with a hint of stiffness in his +manner. "May I ask if my name is familiar to you? I don't think I +remember yours—though"—he stole another glance at the card, and his +brows drew together a little thoughtfully—"Now that I come to look at +it I do seem to have heard it before."</p> + +<p>"I daresay you have, if you have lived in India. Unfortunately, my name +was pretty well known in that country once, for the proverbial nine +days." His voice was a little savage. "But don't trouble about <i>my</i> +name—let me admit at once that yours is perfectly familiar to me."</p> + +<p>He broke off as the waiter approached with their glasses; and until he +had vanished Anstice said no more. Then he continued steadily:</p> + +<p>"You see I am living at present in Littlefield; and I have the honour of +being acquainted with a lady bearing the same name as yourself."</p> + +<p>"You mean my wife?" He spoke calmly; and Anstice found himself admiring +the other's composure. "Then you will be able to give me the latest news +of her and of my little daughter. Has she—Cherry, I mean—quite +recovered from that serious burning accident in September?"</p> + +<p>"Quite, I think." For a second Anstice's heart was sick within him as he +remembered the night on which that accident had taken place; but he +stifled the memory and continued steadily. "She got over it splendidly, +and she is not marked by even the tiniest scar."</p> + +<p>"That's a good thing." Major Carstairs took a drink from the contents of +his glass, and then, setting it down, looked Anstice squarely in the +face. "See here, Dr. Anstice, by a strange coincidence you and I have +been brought together this afternoon, and I should be very much obliged +if you will be kind enough to answer me one or two questions."</p> + +<p>"I am quite ready to answer any questions you may care to ask, Major +Carstairs." Anstice sat upright and pushed aside his glass, and Major +Carstairs began at once.</p> + +<p>"First of all, how long have you been in Littlefield?"</p> + +<p>"A little over twelve months. I went there, to be exact, in September of +last year."</p> + +<p>"I see. And you have been acquainted with Mrs. Carstairs during the +whole of that time?"</p> + +<p>"Not quite. I first met Mrs. Carstairs in the spring, when I was called +in to attend her professionally."</p> + +<p>"I see. As a doctor you will naturally be acquainted with many people in +the neighbourhood; and that being so"—Major Carstairs moistened his +lips and went heroically on—"you are of course familiar with my wife's +story—you know all about those damned anonymous letters—and their +sequel?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." Anstice met his gaze fully. "I know the story, and I am glad of +this opportunity to assure you of my unswerving belief in Mrs. +Carstairs' innocence of the charge brought against her. I hope you don't +consider my assertion uncalled-for," he added hastily.</p> + +<p>For a long moment Major Carstairs said nothing, gazing ahead of him +thoughtfully, and Anstice studied the face of Chloe Carstairs' husband +with deep interest.</p> + +<p>He said to himself that this man was a gentlemen and a man of honour. +There was something about him, something dignified, reserved, a little +sad, which won Anstice's usually jealously-withheld sympathy at once; +and although he had hitherto pictured Major Carstairs as harsh, +unforgiving, narrow-minded, inasmuch as he could not bring himself to +believe his wife innocent of a degrading charge, now that he saw the man +himself, traced the lines in his face which spoke of tragedy, noted the +sadness in his eyes, and heard the gentle note in his voice as he spoke +of Chloe, Anstice was ready to swear that this man had not lightly +disbelieved his wife.</p> + +<p>If he had left her, it had not been done easily. He had surely acted in +accordance with his lights, which would permit no compromise in a matter +of honour; and as he now sat opposite to Major Carstairs, Anstice felt a +strange new respect springing up in his heart for the man who had had +the courage to stand by his inward convictions, however terribly, +tragically mistaken those convictions might have been.</p> + +<p>When at length that long pause ended, Anstice was surprised by the +manner of its ending.</p> + +<p>Major Carstairs leaned across the little table and laid his +square-fingered hand, brown with the suns of India, on Anstice's arm.</p> + +<p>"From the bottom of my heart I thank you for those words," he said +earnestly. "I am glad to know my wife has one friend, at least, in +Littlefield, who is able to believe in her innocence."</p> + +<p>"She has more than one, sir," returned Anstice significantly, as +Carstairs withdrew his hand. "Sir Richard Wayne is as firmly convinced +as I that Mrs. Carstairs has been the victim of a cruel injustice. +And——"</p> + +<p>"Sir Richard? Ah, yes, he was always a true friend to Chloe." He spoke +absently and for a second said no more. Then he suddenly bent forward +resolutely. "Dr. Anstice, I see you are to be trusted. Well, you have +doubtless heard that I left my wife because I could not bring myself to +acquit her of the charge brought against her. I don't know how much you +may have learned, but I give you my word the evidence against her +was—or appeared to be—overwhelming."</p> + +<p>"So I have heard." Anstice's tone was strictly non-committal, and after +a glance at his impassive face Carstairs went on speaking.</p> + +<p>"You must forgive me for reminding you that Mrs. Carstairs never +categorically denied the charges made. That is to say, she implied that +any such denial was, or should be, unnecessary; and it seemed as though +her pride forbade her realizing how unsatisfactory her silence was—to +others."</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, Major Carstairs." Anstice took advantage of a momentary +pause. "May I not just suggest that a categorical denial was +unnecessary? Surely to anyone who knew her, Mrs. Carstairs' silence must +have been sufficient refutation of the charge?"</p> + +<p>He was almost sorry for his impulsive words when he noted their effect. +Major Carstairs' naturally florid complexion turned grey; and his whole +face grew suddenly aged. In that moment Anstice felt that his speech, +with its implied rebuke, had been both impertinent and unjust; yet he +hardly knew how to repair his error without committing still another +breach of good taste.</p> + +<p>Accordingly he said nothing; and after a moment had passed Major +Carstairs spoke with something of an effort.</p> + +<p>"I am glad to see my wife has found a champion in you," he said, with a +smile which Anstice felt to be forced. "And even although as a partisan +of hers you naturally think me cruel and unjust, may I ask you to +believe that I would give years—literally years—of my life to be able +to think myself mistaken in my first judgment of that unhappy affair!"</p> + +<p>The note of passion in the last words moved Anstice powerfully; and he +forgot his own delicate position in a sudden quite unusual desire to +justify himself.</p> + +<p>"Major Carstairs, forgive me if I seem to you impertinent, meddlesome. I +know quite well that this is no business of mine, but—but I know Mrs. +Carstairs, and I know she has been made bitterly unhappy by this +wretched misunderstanding. And I am sure, as sure as I am that you and I +sit here to-day, that she never wrote one word of all those beastly +letters—why, I can almost prove it to you, if you really care for such +proof—and then——"</p> + +<p>He stopped short, arrested by the change in Carstairs' face. His eyes +suddenly blazed with a new and startling fire; and the hand which had +been idly playing with a glass clenched itself into a determined fist.</p> + +<p>"My God, man, what are you saying? If you can prove my wife to be +innocent, why in God's name do you let me sit here in Purgatory?"</p> + +<p>"I ... I said almost——" Anstice positively stammered, so taken by +surprise was he.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's enough to be going on with." Carstairs spoke resolutely. +"Look here, I'll tell you something I meant to keep to myself. For the +last two months—ever since I received my wife's short and formal letter +telling me of Cherry's accident—I've been haunted by the thought that +perhaps after all I was mistaken—frightfully, appallingly mistaken, in +the conclusion I came to at the time of the trial. At first I was +convinced, as you know, that the verdict was the only possible one; and, +although it nearly killed me, I could do nothing but leave her and +return to India alone. But in the last few weeks I have asked myself +whether after all I have not made a terrible mistake. Supposing my wife +were innocent, that her silence were the only possible course open to a +proud and honourable woman ... supposing that a grievous wrong had been +done, and the real writer of those letters allowed to escape scot-free. +Oh, there were endless suppositions once I began to dwell on the +possibility of my wife's absolute ignorance of the vile things ... and +when at last I was able to sail for England I came home with the full +determination to go into the matter once more, to rake up, if necessary, +the whole sad affair from the beginning, and see whether there were not +some other solution to the mystery than the one I was forced to accept +at the time of the trial."</p> + +<p>"You mean that, sir?" Anstice spoke eagerly, and the other man nodded. +"Then I'm bound to say I think it is something more than coincidence +that has brought us together to-day. I'm not a religious fellow, and I +always feel that if there be a God He went back on me years ago in a way +I had not deserved, but I do think that there is something more than +chance in our meeting; and if good comes out of it, and the truth is +brought to light, well"—he laughed with a sudden gaiety that surprised +himself—"I'll forget my old grudge against the Almighty and admit there +is justice in the world after all!"</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice," said Carstairs, "I don't understand you. Would you mind +explaining a little more clearly just what you mean? Why should a +meeting between you and me be anything more than the prelude—as I hope +it may be—to a very pleasant friendship? I honour your belief in my +wife, but when you speak of proof——"</p> + +<p>"Look here, Major Carstairs." With a sudden resolve Anstice pulled his +note-case out of his pocket and extracted two sheets of thin paper +therefrom. "You will probably be surprised when I tell you that those +infernal letters have started again, and this time I am the person +honoured by the writer's malicious accusations."</p> + +<p>"The letters have started again? And you are the victim? But——"</p> + +<p>"Well, look at this charming epistle sent to a certain gentleman in +Littlefield a day or two ago." Anstice handed across the letter he had +received from Sir Richard Wayne, and Major Carstairs took the sheet +gingerly, as though afraid of soiling his fingers by mere contact with +the paper.</p> + +<p>He read the letter through, and then looked at Anstice with a new +expression in his eyes, which were so oddly reminiscent of Cherry's +brown orbs.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice, were you the hero of that unfortunate episode in the hills +a few years ago?"</p> + +<p>Anstice nodded.</p> + +<p>"I was the hero, if you put it so. Personally I should say I feel more +like the villain of the piece. That, anyway, is how the writer of this +letter regards me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's nonsense." He spoke authoritatively. "You could have done +nothing else, and I think myself you showed any amount of pluck in +carrying out the girl's request. You and I, who have been in India, know +what strange and terrible things happen out there; and I tell you +plainly that if I had been that unfortunate girl's brother, or father, I +should have thanked you from the bottom of my heart for having the +courage to do as you did."</p> + +<p>Now it was Anstice's turn to change colour. These words, so heartily +spoken, spoken, moreover, by a man who knew the world, whose +commendation carried weight by reason of the speaker's position, fell +with an indescribably soothing touch on the sore places in Anstice's +soul, and in that moment his inward wound received its first impetus +towards healing.</p> + +<p>He threw back his head with something of the old proud gesture which was +now so rarely seen, and his voice, as he replied, held a new note of +confidence.</p> + +<p>"Thanks awfully, sir." His manner was almost boyish. "You have no idea +what it means to me to hear you say that. Of course I acted as I did, +meaning it for the best, but things turned out so tragically wrong——"</p> + +<p>"That was not your fault." Major Carstairs' reply was decisive. "And +anyone who ventures to criticize your action proclaims himself a fool. +As for the stupid accusations in this letter, well, I should say no one +would give them a second's credence."</p> + +<p>"Well, I did venture to hope that my few friends would not believe it," +returned Anstice, smiling. "And if I had only myself to consider I +should not bother my head about it. But you see there is someone +else——"</p> + +<p>"You mean Mrs. Carstairs?" His manner was suddenly brisk. "Quite so. Of +course a second series of letters would remind the neighbourhood of the +first. Well, if you can bring yourself to allow me to have that letter I +will submit it to one of those handwriting fellows——"</p> + +<p>Anstice interrupted him abruptly.</p> + +<p>"I've already done so. And the report of the expert I consulted—a +well-known man of the name of Clive—is that both these letters were +written by the same hand."</p> + +<p>"Ah! And did the expert utter any further authoritative dicta on the +matter?"</p> + +<p>"He gave me two—possible—clues." Anstice spoke slowly. "The letters +are, he says, probably written by a woman, and there is a strong +presumption in favour of that woman being a foreigner—for instance"—he +paused—"an Italian."</p> + +<p>"An Italian?" For a second Major Carstairs looked blank. Then a ray of +light illumined his mental horizon. "I say, you're not thinking of my +wife's maid, old Tochatti, are you?"</p> + +<p>"Well"—he spoke deliberately—"to tell you the truth, ever since Clive +suggested a foreigner, I <i>have</i> been wondering whether the woman +Tochatti could have anything to do with the letters."</p> + +<p>"But old Tochatti! Why, she is absolutely devoted to my wife—been with +her for years, ever since she was a child. No, believe me, Dr. Anstice, +you must write Tochatti off the list."</p> + +<p>"Very well." Anstice mentally reserved the right to his own opinion. "As +you say, the woman certainly appears devoted both to Mrs. Carstairs and +the child. But I'm sure you will agree it is wise to leave no clue +uninvestigated in so serious a matter?"</p> + +<p>"Quite so. And you may rest assured the matter shall be thoroughly +investigated. By the way, you said something about a train. Are you +returning to Littlefield to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. And it's time I was moving on," said Anstice, glancing at his +watch. "Shall I have the pleasure of your company on the journey?"</p> + +<p>"Not to-night. I have one or two matters to attend to in town, and I +must write and prepare Mrs. Carstairs for my visit. But I shall +certainly be down shortly, and I hope I may have the pleasure of meeting +you again before very long."</p> + +<p>"I hope we may meet soon," said Anstice heartily, and Major Carstairs +escorted his guest to the steps of the Club, where he took a cordial +farewell of him and stood watching the tall figure swing along +Piccadilly with the stride of an athlete.</p> + +<p>"So that's the fellow there was all the '<i>gup</i>' about." Major Carstairs +had heard the story of Hilda Ryder's death discussed a good many times +during his sojourn in India. "A thoroughly decent chap, I should say, +and it's deuced hard luck on him to go through life with a memory of +that sort rankling in his soul. Ah, well, we all have our private +memories—ghosts which haunt us and will not be laid; and at least there +is no disgrace in that story of his. At the worst it could only be +called a miscalculation—a mistake. But what if my mistake has been a +more grievous one—what if Chloe is innocent and I have misjudged her +cruelly? If that should be so," said Major Carstairs, "then my ghost +will never be laid. The man who shot Hilda Ryder will be forgiven for +his too hasty deed. But for a mistake such as mine there could be no +forgiveness."</p> + +<p>And as he turned to re-enter the club his face looked suddenly haggard +and old.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VA" id="CHAPTER_VA"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + + +<p>The more Anstice pondered over the matter of the anonymous letters, the +more inclined he was to believe that the woman Tochatti was one of the +prime movers, if not the sole participator, in the affair.</p> + +<p>Leaving the subject of motive out of the question for the moment, it was +evident that Tochatti, of all the household, would have the most free +access to her mistress' writing-table or bureau; and Anstice knew, +through a chance word, that on the occasion of Mrs. Carstairs' fatal +visit to Brighton, she had been accompanied by her maid.</p> + +<p>True, the woman was supposed, by those around her, to be incapable of +writing, even to the extent of signing her name; but, as the export had +pointed out in the course of the interview, it was not unknown for a +person to deny the possession of some faculty, either from a desire to +gain sympathy or from some other and less creditable reason.</p> + +<p>The question of motive, however, was a more complicated one. Why should +this woman seek to injure her mistress in the first place, and having +done her an irrevocable wrong—always supposing Tochatti to be the +culprit—why should she seek now to bring dishonour on a man who had +never, to his knowledge, done her any harm?</p> + +<p>The thing seemed, on the face of it, absurd; yet somehow Anstice could +not relinquish his very strong notion that Tochatti was in reality at +the bottom of the business, and on the Sunday following his visit to Mr. +Clive he walked over to Greengates to discuss the matter with Sir +Richard Wayne.</p> + +<p>Sir Richard was almost pathetically pleased to see his visitor, for he +missed his pretty daughter sorely, and he welcomed Anstice cordially on +this foggy November afternoon.</p> + +<p>Over their cigars in Sir Richard's cosy sanctum Anstice gave him an +outline of his visit to the handwriting expert and the conclusions to be +drawn therefrom—a narrative to which Sir Richard listened with close +attention; and when Anstice had finished his story the older man took up +the subject briskly.</p> + +<p>"You really think this woman may be implicated? Of course, as you say, +she would have opportunities for tampering with Mrs. Carstairs' +belongings; but still—the question of motive——"</p> + +<p>"I quite realize that difficulty, Sir Richard. But I confess to a very +strong feeling of distrust for the woman since visiting Clive. He +suggested almost at once that the writer was a foreigner, and Tochatti +is about the only foreign, or half-foreign, person in Littlefield, I +should say."</p> + +<p>"Quite so." Sir Richard leaned back in his chair and placed his +finger-tips together in a judicial attitude. "Well, let us consider the +question of motive a little more fully. If the writer really were +Tochatti, we must suppose her to be actuated by some strong feeling. The +question is, what feeling would be sufficiently strong to drive her to a +deed of this nature?"</p> + +<p>He paused; but Anstice, having no suggestion to make, kept silence, and +Sir Richard went on with his speech.</p> + +<p>"Generally speaking, in the character of a woman of a Southern nature, +we find one or two strongly-marked attributes. One is a capacity for +love, equalled only by a capacity for hatred. Of course Tochatti is only +half Italian, but personally I distrust what we may call half-breeds +even more than the real thing. You know the old proverb, 'An Englishman +Italianate He is a devil incarnate'—and I believe there is some truth +in the words."</p> + +<p>"I share your distrust for half-breeds," said Anstice fervently. "And in +this case, although she speaks excellent English as a rule, it always +seems to me that Tochatti is more than half Italian. Do you agree with +me?"</p> + +<p>"I do—and that's why I distrust her," returned Sir Richard grimly. "I +confess I don't like the women of the Latin races—those of the lower +classes, anyway. A woman of that sort who is supplanted by a rival is +about the most dangerous being on the face of the earth. She sticks at +nothing—carries a knife in her garter, a phial of poison in her +handbag, and will quite cheerfully sacrifice her own life if she may +mutilate or destroy the aforesaid hated rival."</p> + +<p>"So I have always understood. But in this case, if you will excuse me +pointing it out, there is no possibility of love entering into it. To +begin with, Tochatti is a middle-aged woman; and of course there could +not be any question of rivalry between her and her mistress."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course not. I was speaking generally," Sir Richard reminded him. +"But there are other reasons for jealousy besides the primary reason, +love. You know, in the case of these last letters, which are certainly +actuated by some very real spite against you ... why, what's the matter +now?" For Anstice had uttered an exclamation which sounded almost +exultant.</p> + +<p>"By Jove, sir, I believe I've got it—the reason why the woman should +feel spiteful towards me!" In his excitement he threw away his cigar, +half-smoked, and Sir Richard, noting the action, guessed that an +important revelation was at hand.</p> + +<p>"You've got it, eh?" Sir Richard sat upright in his chair. "Well, may I +hear it? It's no secret, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Secret? Heavens, no—but how intensely stupid I've been not to think of +it before!"</p> + +<p>"Go on—you're rousing my curiosity," said Sir Richard as Anstice came +to a sudden stop. "Tell me how on earth you have managed to rouse the +woman's spite. Personally, seeing how cleverly you pulled her adored +Cherry through that illness of hers, I should have thought she would +have extended her devotion to you."</p> + +<p>"That's just how the trouble began," rejoined Anstice quickly. "You +remember how the child set herself on fire one night in September?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—on the night before Iris' wedding day." In spite of himself +Anstice winced, and the other man noted the fact and wondered. "Set fire +to herself with a candle, didn't she?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—and Tochatti put out the flames somehow, burning one of her hands +in the process."</p> + +<p>"Did she? I had forgotten that."</p> + +<p>"Yes—with the result that she was not able to take her fair share of +nursing the child, and I accordingly installed a nurse."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember—a bonny girl, with a voice as soft as the coo of a +wood-pigeon."</p> + +<p>"Just so. Well, I—or rather Mrs. Carstairs—had a pitched battle with +Tochatti before she would consent to Nurse Trevor being engaged; and the +girl herself told me that the woman did her very best to make her life +unbearable while she was at Cherry Orchard."</p> + +<p>"The deuce she did! But if she were really incapacitated——"</p> + +<p>"She was; but with the unreasonableness of women—some women," he +corrected himself hastily, "she resented her enforced helplessness, and +looking back I can recall very well how she used to scowl at me when I +visited Cherry."</p> + +<p>"Really! You're not imagining it?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not an imaginative person," returned Anstice dryly. "I assure you +it was no fancy of mine. She used to answer any questions I put to her +with a most irritating sullenness; and once or twice even Mrs. Carstairs +reproved her—before me—for her unpleasant manner."</p> + +<p>"You think that would be sufficient to account for the animus against +you displayed in these letters?"</p> + +<p>"Honestly, I do. You see, luckily or unluckily, the child took a great +fancy to Nurse Trevor; and being ill and consequently rather spoilt, she +behaved capriciously towards her former beloved Tochatti—with the +result that the woman hated the nurse—and hated me the more for having +introduced her into the household."</p> + +<p>Sir Richard nodded meditatively.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I see. It hangs together, certainly, and it is quite a feasible +explanation. But what about the nurse? She would be the one against whom +Tochatti might be expected to wreak her spite——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you see Nurse Trevor was only a bird of passage, so to speak. +She had come down here from a private nursing home in Birmingham, and +had just finished nursing a case when I wanted her; and after Cherry was +better she returned to Birmingham; so that the woman would probably have +had a good deal of trouble in getting on her track."</p> + +<p>"Quite so. You, being at hand, were a more likely victim. Upon my soul, +it almost looks as though you were right. Still, even this does not +explain why she should ruin Chloe's life."</p> + +<p>"No, I admit that. But don't you think if we could bring this last +crime—for it is a crime—home to the Italian woman we could wring a +confession out of her concerning the first series of letters?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is quite possible. The question is, How are we going to bring +it home to her? At present we have no clue beyond the specialist's +opinion that the writer is a foreigner."</p> + +<p>"No, and it's going to be a hard nut to crack," said Anstice +thoughtfully. "But it shall be cracked all the same. What do you say to +taking Mrs. Carstairs into our confidence, Sir Richard? Of course the +idea will be a shock to her at first; but if the matter could be cleared +up, think what a difference it would make to her!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed!" Sir Richard agreed heartily. "And to her husband as well. +You know, Major Carstairs is a man with a rather peculiar code of +honour; and you must not run away with the idea that because he refuses +to believe in his wife's innocence he is necessarily a narrow-minded +or—or callous person."</p> + +<p>"I don't," said Anstice quickly. "By the way I've not told you all that +happened the day I was in town. By a curious coincidence I met Major +Carstairs——"</p> + +<p>"What, is he in England again?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." Anstice related the particulars of the meeting between them, and +repeated, so far as he could remember it, the substance of the +subsequent conversation in the club. "So you see, Sir Richard, Major +Carstairs is not only ready, but longing, to be convinced of his wife's +innocence in the matter."</p> + +<p>"Good! That's capital!" Sir Richard beamed. "If once Chloe can be led to +understand that her husband will believe in her one day she will be +ready to help us to prove her innocence. You know I have sometimes +thought that if she had taken up a rather more human, more feminine +attitude, had relinquished the pride which forbade her to protest loudly +against the injustice which was done her, she might have been better off +in the end. It is very hard fighting for a woman who won't fight for +herself; and that idea of hers that if her own personal character were +not enough to prove her blameless of so vile a charge nothing else was +worth trying—well, it was the attitude of conscious innocence, no +doubt, but it was certainly above the heads of a conscientious, but +particularly unintelligent jury!"</p> + +<p>He put down the stump of his cigar, which unlike Anstice he had smoked +to the end, and looked at the other man with a kindly eye.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Anstice, why shouldn't we go—you and I—to visit Mrs. +Carstairs now?"</p> + +<p>"Now?" Anstice was somewhat taken aback at the proposal.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Why not? There's no time like the present. It is barely six +o'clock, and she will certainly be at home."</p> + +<p>"But—won't she be at church?" Anstice felt suddenly unwilling to go +into the matter with the mistress of Cherry Orchard.</p> + +<p>"Not she! Don't you know Chloe only goes to church once in a blue moon?" +Sir Richard laughed breezily. "I don't blame her—I expect she feels she +owes Providence a grudge—but anyway she will be at home to-night. +And—another inducement—Tochatti will almost certainly be at <i>her</i> +church. Those Catholics are a queer lot," said Sir Richard, who was a +Protestant of the old school. "They will cheat you and lie to you—aye, +and half murder you, on a Saturday night—and turn up at Mass without +fail on Sunday morning!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know Tochatti does go to the Roman Catholic chapel at night," +owned Anstice rather reluctantly. "Well, sir, if you really think the +moment is propitious let us go by all means. After all, it is just +possible Mrs. Carstairs may have had suspicions of Tochatti herself."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I remember Iris often used to say she distrusted the woman—don't +know why. I never paid much attention to her caprices," said Sir Richard +with a smile; and Anstice made haste to seize the opportunity thus +offered.</p> + +<p>"Ah—by the way, what news have you of your daughter?" He could not call +her by the name he hated. "She is still in Egypt, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. She and Bruce are somewhere in the Fayoum at present—he has been +engaged on some irrigation job for a rich Egyptian of sorts, and he and +Iris have been camping out in the desert—quite a picnic they seem to +have had."</p> + +<p>"Really?" For the life of him he could not speak naturally; but Sir +Richard was merciful and ignored his strained tone.</p> + +<p>"They sent me some photographs—snapshots—last week," said Sir Richard. +"Would you care to see them? I have them here somewhere."</p> + +<p>He opened a drawer as he spoke, and after rummaging in the contents for +a few moments drew out half a dozen small prints which he handed to +Anstice, saying:</p> + +<p>"Amateur, of course—but quite good, all the same. Oh, by the way"—he +spoke with elaborate carelessness—"how did you come? Are you walking, +or have you the car?"</p> + +<p>"The car? No, I walked—wanted exercise," said Anstice rather vaguely; +and Sir Richard nodded.</p> + +<p>"Then we'll have out the little car, and you shall drive us over if you +will. And if you'll excuse me for a moment I'll just go and order it +round."</p> + +<p>He waited for no reply, but bustled out of the room as though in sudden +haste; and left to himself Anstice turned over the little photographs he +held and studied them with eager eyes.</p> + +<p>Four of them were of Iris—happy little studies of her in delightfully +natural poses. In one she was standing bare-headed beneath a tall +date-palm, shading her eyes with her hand as though looking for someone +across the expanse of sunny sand before her. In another she stood by the +edge of the Nile, in converse with a native woman who bore a <i>balass</i> on +her head; and even the tiny picture was sufficiently large to bring out +the contrast between the slim, fair English girl in her white gown and +Panama hat and the dusky Egyptian, whose dark skin and closely-swathed +robes gave her the look of some Old Testament character, a look borne +out by the surroundings of reed-fringed river and plumy, tufted palms. +In the third photograph Iris was on horseback; but it was the fourth and +last which brought the blood to Anstice's brow, made his heart beat +quickly with an emotion in which delight, regret, wild happiness and +over-mastering sorrow fought for the predominance.</p> + +<p>It was a photograph of Iris' head, nothing more; but it brought out +every separate charm with an art which seemed to bring the living girl +before the man who pored over the print with greedy eyes.</p> + +<p>She was looking straight out from the photograph and in her face was +that look of half-laughing, half-wistful tenderness which Anstice knew +so well. Her lips were ever so slightly parted; and in her whole +expression was something so vital as to be almost startling, as though +some tinge of the sitter's personality had indeed been caught by the +camera and imprisoned for ever in the picture. It was Iris as Anstice +knew—and loved—her best: youth personified, yet with a womanliness, a +gracious femininity, which seemed to promise a more than commonly +attractive maturity.</p> + +<p>And as he looked at the little picture, the presentment of the girl he +loved caught and imprisoned by the magic of the sun, Anstice felt the +full bitterness of his hopeless love surge over his soul in a flood +whose onrush no philosophy could stem. To him Iris would always be the +one desired woman in the world. No other woman, be she a hundred times +more beautiful, could ever fill the place held in his heart by this +grey-eyed girl. With her, life would have been a perpetual feast, a +lingering sacrament. Her companionship would have been sufficient to +turn the dull fare of ordinary life into the mysterious Bread and Wine +which only lovers know; and with her beside him there had been no +heights to which he might not have attained, no splendour of +achievement, of renown, even of renunciation, which might not have been +reached before the closing cadence which is death had ended, +irrevocably, the symphony of life.</p> + +<p>But not for him was this one supreme glory, the glory of an existence +spent with her. She had chosen otherwise—for one fiercely rebellious +moment he told himself he had been a fool, and worse, to enter on that +infamous bargain with Bruce Cheniston—and henceforth he must put away +all thoughts of her, must banish his dreams to that mysterious region +where our lost hopes lie—never, so far as we can see, to come to +fruition; unless, as some have thought, there shall be in another world +a great and marvellous country where lost causes shall be retrieved, +forlorn hopes justified, and the thousand and one pitiful mistakes we +make in our earthly blindness rectified at last.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The door opened suddenly, and Sir Richard's voice smote cheerily on his +ears.</p> + +<p>"I've got the car, Anstice, and if you are ready——"</p> + +<p>Anstice hastily replaced the photographs, face downwards on the table, +and turned to Sir Richard with a trace of confusion in his manner.</p> + +<p>"The car there? Oh, yes, I'm ready. You would like me to drive?"</p> + +<p>"If you will—then Fletcher can stop at home. You'll come back to dinner +with me, of course."</p> + +<p>With some haste Anstice excused himself; and after a courteous +repetition of the invitation Sir Richard did not press the matter.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Mrs. Carstairs was at home, and alone; and in a moment the two men were +ushered into her pretty drawing-room, where she sat, book in hand, over +a dancing wood-fire.</p> + +<p>She looked up in some surprise as the door opened to admit visitors; but +on seeing Sir Richard she rose with a welcoming smile.</p> + +<p>"Sir Richard! How good of you to take pity on me on a day like this!" +She greeted the old man with almost daughterly affection; and then +turned to Anstice with a rather forced expression of cordiality.</p> + +<p>"You, too, Dr. Anstice! How sorry Cherry will be to have missed you!"</p> + +<p>"Is she in bed, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm sorry to say she was a naughty girl and was put to bed +immediately after tea!" She laughed a little, and Anstice asked, +smiling, what had been the extent of Cherry's latest misdemeanour.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing very serious," said Chloe lightly. "It was really to soothe +Tochatti's wounded feelings that I had to banish the poor child. It +seems that one day last week, while out walking with Tochatti, Cherry +noticed a house in the village with all its blinds down; and on +inquiring the reason Tochatti informed her that someone was dead in the +house; further entering, so I gather, into full details as to the manner +in which Catholics decorate the death-chamber."</p> + +<p>"Oh?" Anstice looked rather blank. "But I don't see——"</p> + +<p>"Well, it seems the idea fired Cherry's imagination; and this morning, +when Tochatti returned from High Mass about noon, she found the blinds +pulled down in all the front windows of the house!"</p> + +<p>"The little monkey!" Sir Richard laughed. "I'll wager the woman got a +fright!"</p> + +<p>"She certainly did, and matters were not improved by Cherry coming to +meet her with her face quite wet with tears—you know Cherry is a born +actress—and begging her, between sobs, to come upstairs softly as +someone was dead!"</p> + +<p>"Someone? She did not specify who it was?"</p> + +<p>"No—or if she did Tochatti did not understand; but when she got into +the nursery she found an elaborately conceived representation of a +Catholic death-bed—flowers, bits of candle, and so on; and Cherry's +very biggest doll—the one you gave her, by the way, Dr. +Anstice—enacting the part of the corpse!"</p> + +<p>Even Anstice's mood was not proof against the humour of the small +child's pantomime; and both he and Sir Richard laughed heartily.</p> + +<p>"And Tochatti took it amiss?" Sir Richard put the question amid his +laughter.</p> + +<p>"Yes. It seems she had really had a bad fright; and on finding Cherry in +tears she never doubted that some tragedy had occurred!"</p> + +<p>"So you had to punish the poor mite for her realism!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Tochatti waited for me to return—I was out motoring—and then +hauled the culprit before me; and although I really didn't see much harm +in poor little Cherry's joke I was obliged, in order to pacify Tochatti, +to sentence her to go to bed early—a special punishment on Sunday, +when, as a rule, she sits up quite late!"</p> + +<p>"I almost wonder," said Anstice slowly, "that Tochatti, devoted as she +is to Cherry, could bring herself to give the child away. One would have +expected her to hush up any small misdeeds, not dwell upon them to the +powers that be."</p> + +<p>Chloe looked at him with a hint of cynicism in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Even Tochatti is human," she said, "and when one has had a fright one's +natural impulse, on being reassured, is to scold somebody. Besides, +Tochatti, in her way, is implacable. She never forgives what she really +considers an injury."</p> + +<p>These words, fitting in so curiously with their conversation a little +earlier, caused the men to glance surreptitiously at one another; but +Chloe, whose eyes were as sharp as her wits, intercepted the look.</p> + +<p>"Sir Richard, why do you and Dr. Anstice look at one another?" She put +the question directly, with her usual frankness; and Sir Richard met +candour with candour.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you in a moment, Chloe. First of all, I will admit that our +visit here to-night was made with a purpose. We came here to ask you one +or two questions which I feel sure you will answer as fully as +possible."</p> + +<p>"Certainly I will." Her manner had lost its animation and once more she +wore the marble mask which as a rule hid the real woman from the world's +gaze. "But won't you sit down? And if a cigarette will help you in your +cross-examination——"</p> + +<p>She sat down herself as she spoke, and Sir Richard followed her example; +but Anstice remained standing on one side of the fireplace; and after a +glance at his face Chloe did not repeat her invitation.</p> + +<p>Rather to Sir Richard's surprise Chloe did not wait for him to begin +questioning her; but put a question to him on her own account.</p> + +<p>"Sir Richard, has your visit anything to do with certain letters +received lately by several people in Littlefield?"</p> + +<p>Both the men, genuinely taken aback, stared at her in silence; and with +a faint smile she proceeded quietly.</p> + +<p>"Well, <i>I</i> have heard of those letters, anyway. In fact"—she paused +dramatically before making her <i>coup</i>—"I've received one myself!"</p> + +<p>"You have?" Anstice's voice was full of dismay.</p> + +<p>"Yes. And I gather, from a short conversation I had with Mr. Carey last +evening, that there have been several more of the things flying about +this week."</p> + +<p>"Well"—Sir Richard looked rather helplessly at Anstice—"in that case +there is no need to make a mystery of it. Yes, Chloe, we did call here +to-night to talk over those abominable letters, and to see if you can +possibly help us to follow up a rather extraordinary clue."</p> + +<p>"A clue!" Chloe's eyes suddenly blazed.</p> + +<p>"Yes. That is to say—possible clue." Sir Richard hedged a little. "But +Anstice can tell you the story better than I can."</p> + +<p>"Will you, please, tell me, Dr. Anstice?" She turned to him, grave again +now; and he complied at once, giving her a full account of his visit to +Clive, and relating at length the expert's opinion on the letters.</p> + +<p>She heard him out in silence; her almond-shaped eyes on his face; and +Anstice omitted nothing of the happenings of that day in town, save his +unexpected meeting with her husband in Piccadilly.</p> + +<p>When he had finished Chloe sat quite still for a moment, saying nothing; +and neither of the men dreamed of hurrying her.</p> + +<p>At last:</p> + +<p>"But, Dr. Anstice—<i>Tochatti</i>! Why, she has been with me for years—ever +since I was a child like Cherry!"</p> + +<p>Her voice was so full of incredulity that for a moment both her hearers +wondered suddenly how they could have accepted the possibility of +Tochatti's guilt so readily. But Anstice's common sense reasserted +itself immediately; and he knew that the mere fact of Mrs. Carstairs' +unbelief did not really materially alter the main issue. It was natural +she should be surprised, unwilling to believe evil of the woman who, +whatever her faults, had served her faithfully; but this was no time for +sentimentality; and he replied to Chloe's last speech rather +uncompromisingly.</p> + +<p>"Even the fact that she has been with you for years does not preclude +the possibility of her doing this thing," he said. "Of course I can +understand you would hesitate to believe her capable of such wickedness, +but——"</p> + +<p>"But why should Tochatti wish to work me harm?" Her blue eyes were full +of a kind of hurt wonder. "And these last letters directed against you, +Dr. Anstice—why on earth should she have any spite against you?"</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice tells me she much resented the presence of the hospital +nurse in the house," chimed in Sir Richard. "Of course she has always +been absurdly jealous of any claim to Cherry's affection—even Iris +noticed that and used to say she hardly dared to pet the child before +Tochatti."</p> + +<p>"Yes." Chloe assented reluctantly. "That is quite true. She has always +been jealous; and I confess I once or twice saw her look at Dr. Anstice +with a—well, rather malignant expression. But I thought it was only a +passing jealousy; and judged it best to take no notice."</p> + +<p>"Of course all this is very largely conjectural," said Anstice slowly. +"Such evidence as we have is purely circumstantial; and wouldn't hang a +cat. But I admit that Mr. Clive's suggestion carries weight with me; and +it is certainly odd that he should have mentioned an Italian as the +possible author of the letters when there is a person of that +nationality—more or less—in the house."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I can see that for myself." Chloe's voice was low. "But to be +quite candid, I don't see how it would be possible to bring the letters +home to Tochatti. To begin with, she can't write."</p> + +<p>"Or pretends she can't. You must remember, Mrs. Carstairs, we have only +the woman's own word for that."</p> + +<p>"I certainly never remember seeing her with a pen in her hand," said +Chloe, "though of course that's no real proof. But if this horrible idea +is correct how are you going to prove it? You don't intend to tackle +Tochatti herself, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Not for the world," said Anstice hastily. "That would be a fatal +mistake. A woman who is clever enough to carry on an intrigue of this +kind without incurring suspicion is sufficiently clever to answer any +direct questioning satisfactorily. No. If Tochatti is the culprit—mind +you I only say if—she must be caught with guile, made to commit herself +somehow, or be taken red-handed in the act——" He broke off suddenly; +and the other two looked at him in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Well, Anstice, what's struck you now?" Sir Richard's tone was eager.</p> + +<p>"Only this. Is your writing-table always open to access, Mrs. Carstairs? +I mean, you don't lock up your ink and pens, and so on?"</p> + +<p>"No," she said, catching the drift of his questions at once. "Anyone in +the house could sit down here to write and be sure of finding everything +at hand."</p> + +<p>"Just so—and unless the person who wrote was considerate enough to use +the blotting-paper you would not know anyone had touched your things."</p> + +<p>"No—unless they were left strewn untidily about."</p> + +<p>"Which they would not be. Now, Mrs. Carstairs, to speak quite plainly, +what is there to prevent Tochatti, or any other member of your +household, creeping downstairs at the dead of night and making use of +those pens and sheets of paper which you so obligingly leave about for +anyone to play with?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," she said with a smile. "But unless you propose that I should +sit up behind the curtains all night to see if some mysterious person +does creep down——"</p> + +<p>"That's just what I was going to propose," he said coolly. "At least I +wasn't suggesting that you should be the person; but you might allow +someone else to sit there on your behalf. You see, if Tochatti is really +the mysterious writer she would not like to run the risk of keeping pens +and ink in her own room where some prying eyes might light upon them +sooner or later. It would be much less incriminating to use another +person's tools, and it is quite possible many, if not all, of those +beastly letters were written at this very table!"</p> + +<p>The conviction in his tone brought forth a protest from Chloe.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice, have you really made up your mind that my poor Tochatti is +the criminal? It seems to me that your evidence is very flimsy—after +all some uneducated person might quite easily put those inverted commas +wrong without being a foreigner; and I still disbelieve in Tochatti's +power to write. Besides"—she paused a moment—"she has always served me +with so much devotion. She is not perfect, I know, but none of us is +that; and I have never, never seen anything in her manner which would +lead me to suppose her to be the hypocrite, the ungrateful, heartless +creature you seem to imply she is."</p> + +<p>Listening to Chloe's words, watching the clear colour flood the marble +whiteness of her cheeks, Anstice was struck by the curious contrast +between this generous championship of a woman who had served her and her +utter indifference and lack of all protest when it was her own innocence +which was in question. In defence of her servant she spoke warmly, +vehemently, unwilling apparently, to allow even mere acquaintances to +look upon the woman as unworthy; yet she had rarely expressed in words +her own entire innocence of the disgraceful charge which had been made +against her; and had suffered the cruel injustice meted out to her +without allowing its iron to enter into her soul.</p> + +<p>And as he watched and listened Anstice told himself that there was +something of nobility in this reluctance to accept her own acquittal at +the cost of another's condemnation; yet his determination to see her +righted never wavered; and he answered her impassioned speech in a cool +and measured tone.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carstairs, I think you will agree with me that the person who was +capable of carrying out such a gigantic piece of deceit, carrying it +through to the extent of allowing an innocent person to be found guilty +for her offence, must be capable of a good deal more in the way of +hypocrisy. I don't say for certain that your maid has written these +letters; I don't yet know enough to convict her, or anyone else; but I +do say that if it were she who stood by and allowed you to suffer for +her wickedness, well, she is fully capable of living with you on terms +of apparently, the most respectful devotion—and hating you in her heart +all the while."</p> + +<p>"But why should she hate me?" Chloe's tone expressed an almost childish +wonder; and Sir Richard, who had been watching her uneasily, rose from +his seat and patted her shoulder reassuringly.</p> + +<p>"There, there, don't distress yourself, my dear!" His tone was fatherly. +"After all, we only want to clear up this mystery for your sake. I +daresay Anstice would be quite willing to let the matter drop if he +alone were concerned——"</p> + +<p>"Ah! I had forgotten that!" She turned to him with contrition in her +blue eyes. "Dr. Anstice, please forgive me! In my selfishness I was +quite forgetting that you were a victim of this unknown person's spite! +Of course the matter must be sifted to the very bottom; and if Tochatti +is indeed guilty she must be punished."</p> + +<p>"I think you are quite right, Chloe." Sir Richard spoke with unexpected +decision. "For all our sakes the matter must be cleared up. You see"—he +hesitated—"there are others to be considered besides ourselves."</p> + +<p>"My husband, for one," said Chloe unexpectedly. "I heard from him this +morning—he is back in England again now."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carstairs"—Anstice, feeling desperately uncomfortable, broke into +the conversation abruptly—"may I go upstairs and say good-night to +Cherry? You know I got into serious trouble for not going up the last +time I was here."</p> + +<p>She turned to him, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Of course you may, Dr. Anstice. I know Cherry would be heart-broken to +hear you had gone without seeing her. You know the way?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, thanks." He had grown familiar with the house during the weeks of +Cherry's illness. "I won't stay long—and I'll not wake her if she's +asleep."</p> + +<p>She was not asleep, however; and her face lighted with pleasure as +Anstice stole quietly in.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do come in, my dear!" She sat up in bed, a quaint little figure +with two thick brown plaits, tied with cherry-coloured ribbons, over her +shoulders. "I'm just about fed up with this stupid old bed!"</p> + +<p>She thumped her pillows resentfully; and Anstice, coming up, sat down +beside her, and beat up the offending pillows with the mock professional +touch which Cherry adored.</p> + +<p>"That better, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Rather!" She leaned back luxuriously. "Wasn't it a shame sending me to +bed to-day? And I hadn't really done nothing!" The intensity of the +speech called for the double negation.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know what you call nothing," returned Anstice, smiling. +"Apparently you'd given poor Tochatti a terrible fright——"</p> + +<p>"Serve her right," said Cherry placidly. "She shouldn't have been so +silly as to think any <i>real</i> person was dead. She might have known all +the servants would have been howling on the doorstep <i>then</i>!"</p> + +<p>The tone in which she made this remarkable statement was too much for +Anstice's gravity; and he gave way to a fit of unrestrained laughter +which mightily offended his small friend.</p> + +<p>"I don't see anything to laugh at," she observed icily. "Seems to me +people being dead ought to make you cry 'stead of laugh."</p> + +<p>"Quite so, Cherry," returned Anstice, wiping his eyes ostentatiously. +"But you see in this case there wasn't anybody dead—at least, so I +understood from Mrs. Carstairs."</p> + +<p>"Yes, there was, then," returned Cherry, still unforgiving. "I'd gone +and killed my best-b'loved Lady Daimler"—christened from her mother's +car—"on purpose to make a pretty death-bed for Tochatti—and then she +simply flew into a temper—oh, a most <i>dreadful</i> temper, my dear!" At +the thought of Tochatti's anger she forgave Anstice's lesser offence, +and took him once more into her favour.</p> + +<p>"That was too bad, especially as I'm sure Tochatti doesn't, often lose +her temper with you," said Anstice with some guile; and Cherry looked at +him gravely, without speaking.</p> + +<p>"Not with me," she announced presently. "But Tochatti gets awful cross +sometimes. She used to be fearful angry with Nurse Marg'ret. Where's +Nurse Marg'ret now, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"Don't know, Cherry. I suppose she is nursing someone else by this time. +Why do you want to know?"</p> + +<p>"'Cos I like Nurse Marg'ret," said Cherry seriously. "Tochatti didn't. +She made a wax dollie of her once, and she only does that when she +doesn't like peoples."</p> + +<p>"A wax dollie?" Anstice was honestly puzzled. "My dear child, what do +you mean?"</p> + +<p>"She did," said Cherry stoutly. "She maded an image like what they have +in their churches, because I saw her do it—out of a candle, and then +she got a great long pin and stuck it in the gas and runned it into the +little dollie." As Cherry grew excited her speech became slightly +unintelligible. "And I know it was Nurse Marg'ret 'cos she wrote a great +big 'M' on a bit of paper and pinned it on to show who it was meant +for."</p> + +<p>Her words made an instant and very unexpected impression on her hearer; +not alone as a revelation of Tochatti's mediæval fashion of revenging +herself upon an unconscious rival—though this method of revenge was +amazing in the twentieth century—but as a strangely apt confirmation of +those doubts and suspicions which had been gathering round the Italian +woman in Anstice's mind during the last few days.</p> + +<p>If Cherry had spoken truly—and there was no reason to think the child +was lying—then Tochatti's supposed inability to write was an error; and +once that fact were proved it should not, surely, be difficult to +unravel the mystery which had already caused so much unhappiness.</p> + +<p>But first he must make sure.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Cherry"—he spoke lightly—"how did you see all this? Surely +Tochatti didn't show you what she was doing?"</p> + +<p>"No." For a second Cherry looked abashed; then her spirit returned to +her and she spoke boldly. "It was one night when Nurse Marg'ret had +gone to bed—she was awful tired, and Tochatti said she'd sit up with +me ... and I was cross, 'cos I didn't want her, I wanted Nurse Marg'ret," +said Cherry honestly, "so I wouldn't speak to her, though she tried ever +so hard to make me, and she thought I'd gone to sleep, and I heard her +say something in 'talian.... I 'spect it was something naughty, 'cos she +sort of hissed it, like a nasty snake once did at me when I was a teeny +baby in Injia," said Cherry lucidly, "and then she looked up to be sure +I was asleep, so I shutted my eyes ever so tight, and then she made the +wax dollie and I watched her do it." Wicked Cherry chuckled gleefully at +the remembrance.</p> + +<p>"But the letter 'M'—how do you know she wrote that?" Anstice put the +question very quietly.</p> + +<p>"'Cos she couldn't find nothin' to write with, so she crept into Nurse +Marg'ret's room next through mine and came back with her pen—one of +those things what has little ink-bottles inside them," said Cherry, +referring, probably, to the nurse's beloved "Swan." "And I watched her +ever so close, 'cos I wanted to see what she was going to do, and she +wrote a big 'M' on a bit of paper and pinned it into the dollie——"</p> + +<p>"Into?" For a moment Anstice was puzzled.</p> + +<p>"Yes, 'cos you see the dollie was all soft and squeezy," explained +Cherry obligingly, "and it hadn't got no clothes on to pin it to, so it +had to go into the soft part of the dollie."</p> + +<p>"I see. But"—Anstice was still puzzled—"why do you say the dollie was +meant for Nurse Margaret? Mightn't it have been somebody else?"</p> + +<p>"No—'cos when Tochatti hates anyone she makes wax dollies end sticks +pins into them," returned Cherry calmly. "I know, 'cos she once told me +about a girl she knew what wanted somebody to die, and she did that and +the person died."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear little Cherry, what nonsense!" Anstice, whose mother had +been an Irishwoman, had heard of the superstition before, had even known +an old crone in a little Irish cabin high up in the mountains who had, +so it was said, practised the rite with success; but to hear the unholy +gospel from Cherry's innocent lips was distinctly distasteful; and +instinctively he tried to shake her faith in Tochatti's teaching.</p> + +<p>"'Tisn't nonsense—at least I don't think so," said Cherry, rather +dubiously. "Of course Nurse Marg'ret didn't die.... I don't think she +even got ill—but p'raps Tochatti didn't stick the pins in far 'nuff."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm quite sure if she stuck in all the pins out of your +cherry-tree pincushion it wouldn't affect Nurse Margaret or anybody +else," said Anstice, putting his arm round her shoulders as he spoke. +"And you really mustn't get such silly notions into your head, Cherry +Ripe!"</p> + +<p>"That's what Iris used to call me," said Cherry, burrowing her head +contentedly into his neck. "I wish she was back, don't you, my dear? +Somehow things don't seem half such fun without Iris—I can't think what +she wanted to go and marry Uncle Bruce for, can you?"</p> + +<p>"There are many things I can't understand, little Cherry," said Anstice +with a smile whose sadness was hidden from the child. "But I agree with +you that it was much nicer when Iris"—he might venture here to use the +beloved little name—"was at home. But we can't always have the people +we like with us, can we?"</p> + +<p>"No—or I'd always have you, my dear," said Cherry with unexpected +though rather sleepy affection; and as Anstice, touched by the words, +kissed her upturned little face, her pretty brown eyes closed +irresistibly.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Cherry! Pleasant dreams!" He laid her back deftly on her +pillows and the child was asleep almost before he had time to reach the +door.</p> + +<p>But as he went back to the drawing-room, eager to tell Mrs. Carstairs +and Sir Richard of the revelations so innocently made by Cherry, he +wondered whether at last the mystery were really within reach of a +solution.</p> + +<p>Cherry's story, although fragmentary and confused, was sufficiently +coherent to rank as evidence; and although he could hardly credit +Tochatti with a genuine belief in the old superstition of the wax image +he reminded himself she was half a Southerner; and that in some of the +mediæval Italian towns and cities superstitions still thrive, in spite +of the teaching of the modern world.</p> + +<p>And if Cherry's story were true——</p> + +<p>"Out of the mouths of babes"—he murmured to himself as he went down the +shallow oak stairs—"strange if, after all, the child should be the one +to clear up the whole mysterious affair! At any rate, we are a step +further on the way to elucidation; and from the bottom of my heart I +hope Mrs. Carstairs may be righted at last!"</p> + +<p>And with this aspiration on his lips he entered the drawing-room and +related the substance of his unexpectedly profitable interview with the +unsuspicious Cherry to an interested and enthralled audience of two.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIA" id="CHAPTER_VIA"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + + +<p>It did not take Anstice long to discover that the accusation against +him—an accusation all the more difficult to refute because of the +half-truth on which it was based—had been disseminated throughout +Littlefield with a thoroughness which implied a determination on the +part of the anonymous writer to leave no prominent resident in the +neighbourhood in ignorance of Anstice's supposed cowardice on that +bygone day in India.</p> + +<p>He could not help noticing as he went here and there on his daily +business that some of his patients looked askance at him, although they +did their best to hide their new and rather disconcerting interest in +him. So far as he knew, none of his patients forsook him for another and +less notorious doctor, but he was keenly alive to the altered manner of +some of those whom he attended, and although at present it was evident +that he was not yet condemned—after all, no fair-minded person condemns +another solely on the evidence of a tale-bearer who is ashamed to put +his name to the stories he relates—yet Anstice felt with a quick +galling of his pride that he was on probation, as it were, that those +with whom he came in contact were considering what verdict they should +pass upon him. And although his indifference to that verdict equalled +Mrs. Carstairs' former indifference to the opinion of these same +neighbours, his soul was seared with the thought that his unhappy +story—or rather a garbled version of it—was common property among +those men and women whom he had served faithfully to the best of his +ability during the eighteen months he had spent in Littlefield.</p> + +<p>On one thing he was fully determined. So soon as this mystery should be +solved—and he fancied a solution was no longer impossible—he would +leave the place, resign the position which had become tedious, +unbearably tedious in its cramped monotony, and seek some other place, +in England or abroad, where he might have leisure to pursue those +studies in research which had been so ruthlessly cut short by his own +most unhappy miscalculation.</p> + +<p>True, he no longer cared for fame. The possibility of some renown +crowning his toil no longer danced before his eyes with alluring +promises. The part of him which had craved success, recognition, the +youthful, vital part of him was dead, slain by the same bullet which had +ended poor Hilda Ryder's happy life; and although he was beginning to +look forward to a new and less cramped career than this which now +shackled him, the joyous, optimistic anticipation of youth was sadly +missing.</p> + +<p>It was impossible that once at work the old interest in his subject +might awake; but now he would work for the work's sake only, for the +sake of the distraction it might afford him; and though through all his +troubles he had preserved, at bottom, the quick humanity which had led +him to choose medicine as his career, he was thinking less now of his +old ambition to find a means of alleviation for one of the greatest ills +of mankind than of the zest which the renewed study of the subject might +restore to his own overshadowed life.</p> + +<p>Yet although he was determined to turn his back as soon as he decently +might on Littlefield and its people, with the perversity of mankind he +was equally determined to see them brought to confusion before he left +them—see them impelled to admit that in the case of Mrs. Carstairs they +had been unjust, prejudiced, and, most galling of all, misled; and the +question of his own vindication was only a secondary matter after all.</p> + +<p>One day he heard, casually, that Major Carstairs was expected at Cherry +Orchard, and when he entered his house at lunch-time he found a note +from Chloe asking him to call upon her between tea and dinner and +remain, if possible, for the latter meal. In any case she asked him to +come for half an hour, at least, and he rang her up at once and fixed +six o'clock for the time of his call upon her.</p> + +<p>At six accordingly he entered the drawing-room, and found Major +Carstairs in possession, as it were, standing on the hearth-rug with the +air of a man at home in his own house. Before Anstice had time to wonder +how this situation had arisen Chloe advanced, smiling, and held out her +hand.</p> + +<p>"Good-evening, Dr. Anstice. I think you and my husband have met +already."</p> + +<p>In these words she announced her cognizance of that meeting in +Piccadilly a few days earlier, and Anstice acknowledged the supposition +to be correct, relieved to see by her smile that she did not grudge his +former secrecy.</p> + +<p>"Yes, by Jove! Dr. Anstice came to the rescue or I'd have had a nasty +fall on the pavement," said Major Carstairs genially. "And by the way, I +declare I'm quite jealous of your supremacy with Cherry! She does +nothing but talk of you, and I hear she infinitely prefers your car to +her mother's!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Cherry and I are very good friends," said Anstice with a smile. +"We had a slight difference last week because I wouldn't allow her to +drive that same car; but Cherry is always amenable to reason, and when I +pointed out to her that she had no licence, and might possibly be +reported by some interfering police-constable and get us both into +trouble she gave in like a lamb. By the way, Mrs. Carstairs, where is +she to-night? Not in disgrace again, I hope?"</p> + +<p>"No, she's as good as gold to-day because she is to sit up to dinner +to-night," said Chloe, smiling—Anstice thought her smiles came more +readily than usual this evening. "I believe she is making an elaborate +toilette upstairs just now; and I admit I was glad to have her occupied, +for I wanted, if you and my husband agree, to talk over the matters of +the letters—and Tochatti."</p> + +<p>For a second Anstice felt uncomfortable, but Major Carstairs probably +noted his discomfort, for he turned to him with a sincerity there was no +doubting.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Dr. Anstice, you have been—luckily for us, if I may say +so—mixed up in this most unsavoury affair, and from what my wife tells +me I believe you are going to be the means of clearing it up—a +consummation most devoutly to be wished."</p> + +<p>Anstice's embarrassment vanished before the soldier's frankness.</p> + +<p>"I only hope you may be right, Major Carstairs," he said, looking the +other man squarely in the face. "Personally, since I intended to leave +Littlefield before long in any case, these wretched slanders don't +affect me much. The few friends I have made in this place are not likely +to give credence to the rumour which has been spread broadcast in the +last week or two—and for the rest——"</p> + +<p>"I understand your indifference to the opinion of 'the rest,'" said +Major Carstairs, smiling, "but I think it will be more satisfactory for +all of us when the affair is really cleared up. But won't you sit down? +Chloe tells me it is too late for tea—but you'll have a peg?"</p> + +<p>"Not for me, thanks." Anstice was too intent on the matter in hand to +turn to side issues. "If you don't mind giving me your opinion on the +subject—do you think it possible that the woman Tochatti is the one to +blame?"</p> + +<p>"Well——" Major Carstairs sat down as he spoke, and since Chloe had +already taken her accustomed seat in a corner of the big couch, Anstice +followed their joint example. "Personally I have never been able to +conquer a dislike, which I always put down as absolutely unjust and +uncharitable, for the woman. I know she has served my wife faithfully, +and her devotion to our little daughter has been beyond praise. But"—he +smiled rather deprecatingly—"even ten years in India haven't +apparently cured me of British insularity, and I have never liked +foreigners—especially half-breeds such as Tochatti, Italian on one +side, English on the other."</p> + +<p>"Then you think it possible, at least, that she may be the culprit?"</p> + +<p>"I do, quite possible. And I thank God from the bottom of my heart for +the bare possibility," returned Major Carstairs deliberately, and his +words and manner both served to assure Anstice that at last this man had +been brought to believe, wholeheartedly, in his wife's innocence.</p> + +<p>Anstice never knew, either then or afterwards, exactly how the miracle +had come about. Indeed, so subtle are the workings of a man's heart, so +complex and incomprehensible the thoughts and motives which touch a soul +to finer issues, that it is quite possible Major Carstairs himself could +not have told how or when he first began to realize that his judgment +might well be at fault, that his own stern honesty and unflinching +integrity, which would not permit him to subscribe outwardly to a belief +which inwardly he did not hold, might after all have been +stumbling-blocks in the way of true understanding rather than the +righteous bulwarks which he had fancied them.</p> + +<p>Probably the conviction that he had misjudged his wife had been stealing +imperceptibly into Major Carstairs' mind during many lonely days spent +on the Indian Frontier; and though he could never have stated with any +degree of certainty the exact moment in which he understood, at last, +that his wife, the woman he had married, the mother of his child, was +incapable of the action which a censorious and unkind world had been +ready to attribute to her, when once that conviction entered his honest, +logical, if somewhat stubborn mind, it had found a home there for ever.</p> + +<p>His chance meeting with Anstice, whose belief in Mrs. Carstairs was too +genuine to be doubted for an instant, had come at an opportune moment, +setting, as it were, the seal on his own changed judgment; and being +essentially a man of honour, upright and just to a fault, he deemed it +not only a duty but a privilege to come directly to his wife, and while +asking her pardon for his unjustifiable suspicions, assure her of his +firm determination to see her innocence made manifest before all the +world.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Something of this Anstice guessed as he watched the interchange of +glances between husband and wife on this bitter November evening, and he +told himself that few women would have accepted their husband's tardy +reparation as this woman had done. It did not need a magician to know +that husband and wife were truly reunited, and though some might have +been inclined to label Chloe Carstairs poor-spirited in that she had +apparently forgiven her husband's mistrust so easily, Anstice told +himself that Chloe was a woman in a thousand, that this very forgiveness +and lack of any natural resentment showed the unalloyed fineness, the +pure gold of her character, as nothing else could have done.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was Chloe who broke the silence which followed Major Carstairs' last +words, and as he looked at her Anstice was struck suddenly by the change +in her appearance this evening. Where she had hitherto been cold, +impassive, indifferent, now she was warm, glowing, responsive. In her +pale cheeks was a most unusual wild-rose colour and her blue, +almond-shaped eyes held a light which made them look like two beautiful +sapphires shining in the sun.</p> + +<p>When she spoke her rich, deep voice lost its undertone of melancholy, +and rang joyously, with the soft beauty of a 'cello's lower notes.</p> + +<p>"You see, Dr. Anstice, your faith in me—for which I have never +attempted to thank you—is at last within measure of being justified!" +She smiled happily. "And although Tochatti has served me faithfully she +cannot be allowed to go on with this thing—if she be the one +responsible. The question is, How is it to be brought home to her?"</p> + +<p>Thus encouraged Anstice again outlined the plan he had formerly +suggested—that a watch should be set during the night; but, as he had +half expected, Chloe did not give it her unqualified approval.</p> + +<p>"No, Dr. Anstice." She spoke too gently to cause him offence. "I don't +think, honestly, I like the idea. Can't I speak openly, ask her quite +plainly why she has done this thing—what perverted notion of—well, +resentment she has against me which would lead her to act in this +manner?"</p> + +<p>To Anstice's relief Major Carstairs vetoed this plan, unhesitatingly.</p> + +<p>"No, Chloe, that is an absolutely impossible suggestion! As Dr. Anstice +says, guile must be met with guile, and the only way to catch this woman +is to take her absolutely red-handed. And if, as you seem to think, she +is likely to creep down in the night—well, it could do no harm to set a +watch."</p> + +<p>"There is one reason against that delightfully simple plan of yours," +objected Chloe. "Tochatti would not be likely to write any more of these +letters with you in the house, Leo. You see, it would be very serious +for her if <i>you</i> encountered her at my writing-table in the night!"</p> + +<p>Before Carstairs could reply Anstice spoke rather diffidently.</p> + +<p>"I have just one suggestion to make, Major Carstairs. Am I right in +supposing you are staying down here to-night?"</p> + +<p>A fleeting embarrassment was visible on the faces of both Major +Carstairs and his wife; but the former answered resolutely:</p> + +<p>"Yes. I am certainly hoping to stay here."</p> + +<p>"Well, if I might just make a suggestion, why not give out that you are +returning to town to-night and coming down to stay to-morrow or the next +day? Tochatti would probably, thinking this her last opportunity, make +haste to seize it and write another letter or two—possibly the +last—to-night."</p> + +<p>"You mean give out that I am returning to town to-night; start, in fact, +in reality, and come back later, when the house is quiet?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Anstice, wondering what the soldier thought of his amateur +strategy. "Then you—and anyone else you choose—could sit up here and +wait events."</p> + +<p>"I admire the simplicity of your plan, Dr. Anstice," returned Carstairs +with an irrepressible laugh. "I've been called upon to exercise +diplomacy at times myself, but I don't think I ever hit on anything more +telling in the way of a plan than this charmingly simple one of yours!"</p> + +<p>"You approve of it, then?" Anstice was in no wise offended by the +other's mirth.</p> + +<p>"Highly—it's just the plan to appeal to me," said Carstairs, still +smiling infectiously; and Chloe rose from her couch and coming to his +chair seated herself on the arm and rested her hand on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"I know why the plan appeals to you, Leo! It recalls your schoolboy +days, when you pretended to go to bed and then stole out to skate by +moonlight!"</p> + +<p>"Hush, hush, Chloe! Never tell tales out of school," commanded the Major +in mock alarm; but Anstice noticed how the man's brown fingers closed +round his wife's hand, and suddenly he felt as though this spectacle of +their reunion was too tantalizing to be pleasant to a sore heart like +his own.</p> + +<p>He rose rather abruptly, and both the others looked at him with a little +surprise.</p> + +<p>"You're not going, Anstice? Surely you'll stay to dinner? My little +daughter will be sorely disappointed if you run away now!"</p> + +<p>"Do stay, Dr. Anstice!" Chloe rose too, and her eyes, like two beautiful +blue jewels, shone kindly into his. "Our scheme will have to be +discussed further, won't it? We mustn't take the field with an +ill-prepared plan, must we, Leo?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed we must not," returned her husband quickly. "Especially as I was +going to ask a very big favour of you. Dr. Anstice! Seeing how more than +good you have been in interesting yourself in this affair, I have been +wondering whether you wouldn't conceivably like to be in at the death, +so to speak. In plain words, I was going to ask you if you would care to +be my fellow-conspirator in this nefarious plot we have hatched between +us!"</p> + +<p>"You mean—will I sit up with you to-night?" Anstice spoke eagerly, and +Chloe smiled.</p> + +<p>"Well, you're not annoyed by the suggestion, anyway! I needn't say I +should appreciate your company—though after all, it is a big thing to +ask a man of your calling to sacrifice the rest he must need pretty +badly!" He spoke rather dubiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, not a bit of it, Major Carstairs!" Anstice's eyes brightened at the +thought of the adventure. "In a matter of this kind two witnesses are +better than one; and there is always a chance that even a woman may turn +nasty when she finds herself cornered—especially one who is half a +foreigner," he added with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Then you'll come? It's awfully good of you——"</p> + +<p>"Not at all, sir. You forget I'm an interested party," said Anstice +quickly. "It is as much to my interest to clear the matter up as to +yours, now. Well, what about details? Where—and how—shall we meet, and +how do we get into the house without anyone knowing?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes. That requires thought."</p> + +<p>Major Carstairs rubbed his hands together gaily, and Chloe burst out +laughing.</p> + +<p>"You two are nothing but schoolboys," she said joyously. "I believe you +are both looking forward to this midnight adventure! You'd be quite +disappointed if there were no need for your masterly plot after all!"</p> + +<p>Anstice and Major Carstairs looked rather shamefacedly at one another; +but Chloe was merciful and restrained further mockery for the time.</p> + +<p>"Well, now I will make my suggestion," she said. "Leave the house in the +usual way, by the front door; and come back, at whatever hour you agree +upon, to the window here. I will let you in myself, and not a soul need +know you have re-entered the house."</p> + +<p>"Very well," Carstairs nodded. "One suggestion though. Leave the window +open—no one will see behind those curtains, and go to bed as usual +yourself. Depend upon it, if Tochatti is really the culprit, she will +take all means of satisfying herself that you are safely in bed before +she begins her work, and it would not do for her to find your room empty +at midnight."</p> + +<p>Chloe paled a little, and when she spoke her voice was uneasy.</p> + +<p>"Leo, do you really think Tochatti is so—so malicious? I can't bear to +think of her being with Cherry—she is with her almost night and day, +you know—if she is so dreadful, so dangerous a character——"</p> + +<p>"You need not be afraid, Mrs. Carstairs." It was Anstice who spoke, +reassuringly. "The little one is quite safe with her, I am sure of that. +If it really does turn out that Tochatti has been to blame, I feel +convinced that we shall find she is not altogether responsible for her +actions——"</p> + +<p>"But that's worse still!" Chloe's voice was really alarmed. "If she is +mad—a lunatic——"</p> + +<p>"I did not mean quite that," said Anstice. "I meant—well, it is rather +a difficult subject to enter into at a moment's notice; but—have you +ever heard of a dual personality?"</p> + +<p>"A dual personality?" She repeated the words, her white brow wrinkling +with the effort of concentration. "I think I know what you mean—a +person with two sides to his character, so to speak—of which first one +is in the ascendant and then the other?"</p> + +<p>"Kind of Jekyll and Hyde business, what?" Major Carstairs knew his +Stevenson, and Anstice nodded.</p> + +<p>"Well, something like that, though not so pronounced. There really are +such people, you know—it is not only a fantastic tale that a man may +lead a kind of double life, speaking in a spiritual and not a physical +sense. You don't call such people lunatics, nor are they, save in +extreme cases, criminals. But it is quite possible for a woman like +Tochatti to devote one half of herself to your service—and serve you +admirably!—and lead what seems in all respects an open and above-board +existence; and yet, through some kink in her character, stoop to an +action one would expect to find only in a woman of a thoroughly debased +nature."</p> + +<p>He paused, but neither of his hearers spoke.</p> + +<p>"It is as if a lower spirit entered into these people at times, driving +them to do things which in a normal state they would be quite incapable +of doing. You know the old Biblical theory of possession? Well, the same +thing, under another name, is to be met with to-day; and for my part, +when I come across the case of a person whose present behaviour +contradicts all the actions of his previous life, upsets all the data, +so to speak, which I have been able to gather of his conduct in the +past, well, I put it down, mentally, to that peculiar theory of +'possession' with which the Easterns in the time of Christ were +apparently perfectly familiar."</p> + +<p>"As they are to-day," said Major Carstairs unexpectedly; and Anstice +looked gratified at the corroboration. "It is a strange theory, I own, +but after what I have seen in India I confess I find it perfectly +feasible."</p> + +<p>"And you think my poor Tochatti may be a victim to this old form of +demonism?" Chloe addressed the question to Anstice, and he answered it +after a momentary hesitation.</p> + +<p>"Well, it is too soon to make any sweeping statement of that kind, Mrs. +Carstairs, but I must acknowledge it is hard to reconcile the woman's +general behaviour with an action of this kind without some such theory. +However"—he glanced at the clock—"if you will excuse me I must really +get home. There will be all sorts of complaints from my surgery patients +if they are kept waiting!"</p> + +<p>"One moment, Anstice! I take it you will come back to-night? Though +really it is a jolly big thing to ask...." Major Carstairs tone was +apologetic.</p> + +<p>"Of course, and we must settle where we meet. But first, shouldn't we +let Tochatti know that you are not staying here to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes." Chloe moved towards the boll. "I'll send for Cherry—that +will bring Tochatti—and you can allude to your departure then."</p> + +<p>Three minutes later Tochatti appeared, in charge of the excited Cherry, +who flew at Anstice, and, quite regardless of her immaculately frilled +muslin dress, flung herself into his arms and kissed him +demonstratively.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear, what <i>ages</i> since I've seen you!" Her tone was a faithful +copy of the parlourmaid's greeting to a recent visitor to the kitchen. +"Are you going to stay to dinner? I do hope so, 'cos I'm going to sit up +and there's lovely things—lots of roasted pheasants and meringues all +filled with squelchy cream!"</p> + +<p>"Alas, Cherry, I can't stop!" Anstice's comically regretful tone made +Chloe smile. "I shall have to go home and see my patients. And if I get +a chop——"</p> + +<p>"<i>And</i> a chipped potato, my dear," prompted Cherry.</p> + +<p>"<i>And</i> a chipped potato," concurred Anstice obediently, "I shall think +myself lucky! But I wish you hadn't told me there were to be lots of +pheasants!"</p> + +<p>"They're for Daddy, speshully," said Cherry, "'cos he's got sick of +chickens in Injia—but I like the bready sauce and the little brown +crumbs best!"</p> + +<p>"And that reminds me," said Major Carstairs, looking at his watch rather +ostentatiously, "I should be glad if you could put forward dinner a +little, Chloe. I must catch the nine-thirty to town."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Daddy, you're not going to-night!" Cherry forsook Anstice for the +moment and clambered on to her father's knee. "You said you were going +to stop and you'd come and tell me stories in bed!"</p> + +<p>"I did, and I don't like breaking my word to a lady," said Major +Carstairs seriously, "but I really must go back to town to-night, and +I'll come down to-morrow or the next day, and stay a long, long time!"</p> + +<p>"You might tell Hagyard Major Carstairs will not be staying to-night, +Tochatti," said Chloe, turning to the woman, and Anstice's quick eyes +caught the look of relief compounded with something like surprise which +flashed across Tochatti's swarthy countenance.</p> + +<p>"<i>Bene, Signora.</i>" With a strange look at Anstice, a look which did not +escape the notice of the person at whom it was levelled, Tochatti +withdrew, and since further conversation was impossible in Cherry's +presence, Anstice made his farewells and went out to the car, escorted +by his host, who seized the opportunity to fix the details of the +evening's later meeting.</p> + +<p>"You will leave the house about a quarter to nine, I suppose?" asked +Anstice. "Well, look here, why not come round to my place to fill in the +time until we can go back? We shall be alone, and unless I'm called +out—which I trust won't happen—we can have a quiet chat and a smoke."</p> + +<p>"Right. I'll be at your place about nine, and if you're busy I can read +the paper, you know. Till then, <i>au revoir</i>!"</p> + +<p>Anstice nodded and mounted to the steering seat, and Major Carstairs +went back into the house, wondering why the younger man's face wore so +sad an expression in repose.</p> + +<p>"Of course that Indian affair was rather a facer, but the story's some +years old by now and one would think he'd have got over it. As decent a +fellow as I've ever met. But he seems altogether too old for his age, +and even when he smiles or jokes with the child he doesn't look happy. I +wonder if Chloe knows any reason for his melancholy air?"</p> + +<p>And with the question still uppermost in his mind he went back to the +drawing-room in search of his wife and child.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIIA" id="CHAPTER_VIIA"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + + +<p>It was very dark in the window-recess, shut off from the room by the +heavy blue curtains which fell to the floor in thick folds. The room +itself was not in complete darkness, for the fire, built up by Chloe +with assumed extravagance before she went to bed, had burned down to a +steady red glow, now and then illumined by a dancing gleam of light as a +tiny flame of gas sputtered from some specially charged coal; and as +Anstice peeped cautiously through a carefully arranged chink in the +curtains he could see the pretty room with fair distinctness. The chairs +were standing about with the peculiarly uncanny effect known to all who +enter a room after it has been finally deserted for the night—an effect +as of waiting for some ghostly visitors to fill their pathetic emptiness +and hold high revel or stately converse in the place lately peopled by +mere human beings.</p> + +<p>On a little table by the fire stood a chess-board, the old carved red +and white pieces standing on it in jumbled disarray; for Chloe and her +husband, both inveterate chess-lovers, had begun a game which they were +unable, through lack of time, to finish; and as his eyes fell on the +board Anstice had a queer fancy that if he and Major Carstairs +were not present two ghostly chess-players would issue softly from +the shadows and rearrange the pieces for another and perhaps more +strenuously-contested duel.</p> + +<p>As the fantastic thought crossed his mind Anstice sat up decisively, +telling himself he was growing imaginative; and Major Carstairs turned +to him with a whispered word.</p> + +<p>"Getting fidgety, eh? I know the feeling—used to get it when I was +sitting in a straw hut in the marshes waiting for the duck to +appear——"</p> + +<p>He broke off suddenly; for a sound had shattered the silence; but though +he and Anstice pulled themselves together in readiness for anything +which might happen, both realized at the same moment that it was only +the whirr of the grandfather clock which always prefaced the striking of +the hour; and in another second the hour itself struck, with one deep, +sonorous note which reverberated through the quiet room.</p> + +<p>"One o'clock, and no result," Major Carstairs stretched himself +cautiously. "How long is the sitting to continue, eh? It's all right for +me, but I'm afraid if you have a heavy day's work in prospect——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't mind," said Anstice indifferently. "I'm used to having my +sleep cut short—one's patients seem to think one can exist quite +comfortably without it, though they make a tremendous fuss if they lose +a night's sleep for any reason!"</p> + +<p>"Well, if nothing happens shortly—and I'm inclined to think nothing +will——" began Major Carstairs, but he got no further, for with the +extraordinary aptness of conjunction which we are wont to call +coincidence, though another word might more fitly be employed, the door +opened almost noiselessly and a hooded figure crept on soundless feet +into the room.</p> + +<p>Anstice and his companion fairly held their breath as the shrouded form +glided softly forward, the light of the dying fire doing little, now, to +illumine the scene; and neither of the men could have sworn with any +certainty to the identity of the person who shared their occupation of +the silent room.</p> + +<p>In the middle of the floor the figure halted suddenly; and for one wild +moment Anstice fancied that some sixth sense had warned the new-comer of +their presence; but realizing the danger of attracting that new-comer's +thought towards him by any intensity of his own mind—for one thought +will draw another as a magnet the steel—Anstice switched off the +current of his thoughts, so to speak, and waited with as blank a mind as +he could compass for the thing which must surely happen soon.</p> + +<p>After that involuntary halt the figure moved slowly forward in the +direction of the writing-table; and Anstice would have given a great +deal to have been able to see the face of this midnight scribe; but as +yet the firelit gloom remained undisturbed; and it was impossible to do +more than hazard a guess as to this strange visitor's personality.</p> + +<p>There were candles on the writing-table, and for a moment Anstice +fancied that the mysterious figure would seek their aid to carry through +the task confronting her—he was convinced it was a woman who sat at the +table—but he was wrong, for no match was struck, no candle-flame +lighted the soft dusk. Instead a small beam of light shot suddenly +across the table; and Anstice and Major Carstairs both grasped at the +same moment the significance of the ray.</p> + +<p>It was a pocket electric torch, of a kind familiar to thousands +nowadays, whose aid the letter-writer had evoked; and since this +particular one was fitted with a bulb which enabled it to cast a +continuous light without finger-pressure, it was quite effective for the +purpose to which it was now being put.</p> + +<p>Having placed the torch on the table in such a position that the ray of +light fell directly across the blotting-pad, the figure made search for +a sheet of paper which suited its mind; and after a moment, a sheet +having been chosen, a pen was selected, dipped into Chloe's own silver +inkstand and a few lines of writing inscribed slowly, and with many +pauses, upon the otherwise unsullied paper.</p> + +<p>His heart throbbing wildly, with an excitement quite foreign to his +nature, Anstice watched the performance eagerly through the just-parted +curtains; and so sure was he now of the identity of his quarry that he +was ready to leap from his hiding-place and confront the anonymous +letter-writer without further loss of time, had not a gentle pressure on +his arm restrained him at the critical moment.</p> + +<p>It was not safe to speak, since even a whisper might betray their +presence; but Anstice realized Major Carstairs' intention and held +himself in check, though he quivered like a greyhound straining at the +leash, who fears his quarry may escape him if he be not slipped +forthwith.</p> + +<p>After what seemed like an hour, but was probably five minutes, the +letter, whatever its nature, was judged complete; and with the same +stealthy but unhurried movements the writer sought and obtained an +envelope from the many which lay ready to hand and slipped the missive +in with deft fingers. An address added, the abominable thing was +complete; and having quietly put everything in order, so that even the +most acute eyes could discover nothing amiss, the writer rose softly +from the chair, and taking up the electric torch extinguished its beam +preparatory to making her exit from the room, which was now in almost +complete darkness.</p> + +<p>This was the moment for which Major Carstairs had been waiting.</p> + +<p>With a whispered word in Anstice's ear: "The light—quick!" he dashed +aside the curtains and darted out into the room, while Anstice, hastily +obeying orders, rushed to the wall and turned on the electric switch to +such good purpose that the room sprang instantly into brilliant light.</p> + +<p>There was a scream from the hooded figure in the middle of the floor—a +scream of mingled anger, defiance and terror which rang in Anstice's +ears for hours afterwards, and following the scream a mad, wild rush for +the door—a blundering, stumbling rush in which the very garment, the +long, loose cloak which was intended for a disguise, proved itself a +handicap and effectually prevented its wearer making good her escape. By +the time she had torn herself free of the encumbering folds which +threatened to trip her up at every step Anstice had reached the door; +and now he stood before it with something in his face which warned the +panting creature in front of him that the way of escape was effectually +barred.</p> + +<p>Still hiding her face in the folds of her garment she turned round as +though to rush towards the window and seek egress thereby; but facing +her stood Major Carstairs, and the wretched culprit realized, too late, +that she was trapped.</p> + +<p>Yet as a cornered hare will turn and give battle, desperately, to her +eager foes, the woman made a frantic rush as though to pass the avenging +figure which stood in her path; and as she did so Major Carstairs moved +forward and plucked the black hood with no gentle hand from the face it +had so far partially concealed.</p> + +<p>And as with wildly beating pulses Anstice bent forward to catch a +glimpse of the mysterious visitor he knew that his surmise, unlikely as +it had seemed, had been correct; that by a stroke of luck the expert, +Clive, had been able to point unerringly to the clue which was to solve +the mystery of those vile letters and restore to an innocent woman the +fair name which had been so unjustly smirched.</p> + +<p>For the hooded figure was none other than Tochatti.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"My God! Then it <i>was</i> you!" Major Carstairs' tone was so full of +disgust, of loathing, of the just indignation of a righteously angry man +that even Tochatti cowered in his grip; and as Anstice came forward the +other man turned to him with an expression of wrath which quite +transfigured his face. "Look at her, Anstice, the miserable, degraded +creature! To think that she has been with my wife all these +years—hanging over Cherry night and day—and all the time plotting this +infamous thing ... by the way, where is that letter?"</p> + +<p>He broke off suddenly and Anstice came a step nearer the two.</p> + +<p>"I see it, sir!" He had caught sight of it in the woman's clenched hand, +and with a smart and unexpected blow on her wrist forced her fingers to +open and release that which they held. "Here it is—will you take it? I +can look after her all right."</p> + +<p>"No—but just see what the address is, will you?" Major Carstairs had +regained his self-control, and now stood quiet, alert, cool, as though +on parade. "May as well know who was her chosen victim this time."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my old friend Carey—you know, the Vicar of Littlefield." Anstice +tossed the envelope on to a chair out of reach. "He was the first one +honoured, I believe, and possibly was to have been the last!"</p> + +<p>All this time the woman had stood silent, her black eyes snapping, her +breast heaving stormily. Now she turned on Anstice fiercely and poured +out a stream of vituperative Italian which conveyed little or nothing to +his mind. Seeing that she made no impression she redoubled her efforts, +and finally her voice rose to a scream.</p> + +<p>"I say, better shut her up, sir, or Mrs. Carstairs will hear!" Anstice +glanced anxiously towards the door and Major Carstairs nodded.</p> + +<p>"Yes. We don't want the whole house about our ears." He turned to the +woman who now stood sullenly silent in his grasp; though if looks could +kill there would certainly have been a practice for sale in Littlefield +on the morrow. "Now see here, Tochatti, you've been fairly +cornered—caught—and you will have to pay the penalty. In the meantime +I shall lock you in your room until the morning, and I warn you it is +useless trying to escape."</p> + +<p>A noise in the doorway cut him short; and turning hastily round Anstice +beheld Chloe Carstairs standing there, the light of the candle she +carried casting queer flickering shadows across her pale face, in which +the blue eyes gleamed more brightly than ever before.</p> + +<p>"Chloe!" In his surprise Major Carstairs released the woman; and with a +bound she was across the room, pouring out another wild flood of +protestations, in which the words "<i>il dottore</i>" and "<i>la bambina</i>" +occurred over and over again. Higher and higher rose her voice, more +shrill and hysterical her outpourings, and Anstice's professional +instinct warned him that such abnormal excitement must end in +disaster—though of the nature of that ending he had at the moment no +conception.</p> + +<p>Seeing, however, that the woman, while exhausting herself, was also +distressing her mistress, he moved forward with the intention of warning +Tochatti she was endangering her own health; but his word of caution was +never uttered, for as he approached her she spun round with a last +fierce torrent of words, and, stooping down, with incredible swiftness +plucked a sharp dagger from some secret hiding-place, and lunged at +Anstice with all her maddened might.</p> + +<p>Luckily for him her excitement impeded her aim; and while she doubtless +intended stabbing him to the heart she merely inflicted a flesh wound on +the upper part of the arm which he had raised to defend himself.</p> + +<p>The next moment Chloe, with a quite unlooked-for strength, had wrested +the weapon from the woman's grasp; and then ensued a scene which even +Anstice could hardly bear to look back upon in after days.</p> + +<p>Whether or no his theory of possession were justified, the woman was for +the time being beside herself. Seeing the dagger in Chloe's hand she +threw herself upon her mistress and struggled wildly to regain her +property, inflicting a series of cuts on her own hand before Chloe could +get free to hurl the deadly thing into a corner of the room; and even +when Anstice and Carstairs had overpowered her with their superior might +she fought for freedom like a mad woman. But this abnormal strength +could not continue. Suddenly, as Anstice had foreseen, the inevitable +collapse occurred. Nature could stand no more, and with a last wild +writhe the woman slipped through the hands which held her, and uttering +a sharp cry fell to the floor in a state of unconsciousness.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Half an hour later Anstice came downstairs and re-entered the room where +Major Carstairs sat alone over the now brightly burning fire.</p> + +<p>"Well!" The soldier's voice was anxious. "How is the woman? Oh, and what +about your arm? Was it badly hurt?"</p> + +<p>"No—only a very slight flesh wound, and Mrs. Carstairs has kindly bound +it up for me." He relinquished the subject of his own injury abruptly. +"The woman is asleep now—she grew excited again, so I've given her some +bromide, and she will be quiet enough for the rest of the night."</p> + +<p>"My wife is with her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Mrs. Carstairs insists on staying there for the present."</p> + +<p>Anstice took a cigarette from the case his host held out, and Major +Carstairs made a gesture towards the tantalus on the table.</p> + +<p>"Have a peg—I'm sure you want it!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I think I do," returned Anstice with a smile. "We had rather a +tough time of it upstairs just now." He mixed himself a drink as he +spoke. "Once a Southerner lets herself go the result is apt to be +disastrous."</p> + +<p>"Will she be quieter in the morning?"</p> + +<p>"I expect so." He stood by the mantelpiece, glass in hand; and in spite +of his evident fatigue it was easy to see he was quietly jubilant over +the events of the night. "The Latin races have a peculiar elasticity, +you know. An Englishwoman who had passed through this sort of violent +brain-storm would be absolutely exhausted, worn out for days after it; +but an Italian doesn't seem to feel things in the same way. They are so +naturally excitable, I suppose, that a scene like this is merely an +episode in the day's work; and they recover their mental poise much more +rapidly than persons of a more phlegmatic temperament would be likely to +do."</p> + +<p>"Then you think she may be—more or less—normal in the morning?"</p> + +<p>"I daresay—a bit dazed, perhaps, but I don't think you need fear a +repetition of to-night's scene. Of course she ought not to be left +alone—in case she tries to scoot; but if you are staying in the +house——" He paused interrogatively.</p> + +<p>"I am staying," returned Major Carstairs quietly. "Thanks to you the +cloud has lifted from our home; and since my wife is generous enough to +forgive me for my unwarrantable doubt of her——"</p> + +<p>He broke off, for Anstice was moving forward with outstretched hand; and +he guessed that the younger man was rendered uncomfortable by the turn +the conversation had taken.</p> + +<p>"You're going?" He wrung Anstice's hand with fervent gratitude. "Well, +it's late, of course—but won't you stay here for the rest of the night? +We can give you a bed in five minutes, and I'm sure my wife will be +distressed if you turn out now."</p> + +<p>"Thanks very much, but I must go." The decision in his tone was +unmistakable.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll get out the car and run you over——"</p> + +<p>"No, thanks. I'd really rather walk." He picked up hat and coat from the +window-seat and turned to the door with an air of finality. "It's a fine +night and I shall enjoy it. I'll be round early in the morning—but I +don't think Tochatti will give you any trouble for a good many hours +yet."</p> + +<p>"As soon as she is able to explain matters there will be a good deal to +be done," said Major Carstairs rather grimly, as they went through the +hall together. "Thank God, we have that last letter as a proof of her +duplicity, and by its aid we can doubtless get a full confession out of +her."</p> + +<p>"Yes." Anstice paused a second on the doorstep before plunging into the +darkness of the night. "It will be interesting to hear the whole story. +The events are plain enough—but the question of motive is still a +puzzling one."</p> + +<p>"Quite so. And yet the affair will probably turn out simple, after all. +Well, I mustn't keep you if you want to be off. Good night +again—and"—the sincerity in his voice was pleasant to hear—"a +thousand thanks for the part you have played in the unravelling of this +tangle."</p> + +<p>"Good-night. Don't let Mrs. Carstairs exhaust herself looking after the +woman, will you? She is splendid, I know, but——"</p> + +<p>"I'll go and join her in a moment," returned Carstairs quietly. "I'm an +old campaigner, you know, and I'll see to it that she is properly +fortified for the vigil—if she insists upon it."</p> + +<p>And as he looked into the soldier's square-featured face, the honest +eyes agleam with love for the woman he had been fool enough to doubt, +Anstice felt instinctively that Chloe Carstairs' ship had come at last +to a safe anchorage, that the barque which had so narrowly escaped +complete shipwreck on the rock of a terrible catastrophe was now safely +at rest in the haven where it would be.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIIIA" id="CHAPTER_VIIIA"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + + +<p>"Well, Chloe, you have discovered the truth at last?"</p> + +<p>It was evening again—early evening this time; and Major Carstairs and +Anstice were sitting in Chloe's black-and-white room eagerly waiting for +the promised elucidation of the mystery which had so nearly ruined two +lives.</p> + +<p>Chloe herself, sitting in a corner of the chintz-covered couch, looked, +in spite of the strenuous hours through which she had passed, the +embodiment of youth and radiant happiness.</p> + +<p>In all his life Anstice had never seen so striking a testimony to the +power of soul over body as in this rejuvenation, this new birth, as it +were, which had taken place under his eyes.</p> + +<p>The whole woman was transformed. The classic features had lost their +slight austerity of outline, the sapphire-blue eyes were no longer cold +and indifferent, but danced bewitchingly in the softly-tinted face. The +lips whose corners had been prone to droop were now curved into the +tenderest, gayest smiles; and as Anstice looked at her he was reminded +of the old story of the marble statue, whose frozen rigidity was warmed +into life by the magic of the sculptor's kiss.</p> + +<p>And as he gazed, secretly, on this miracle which had been performed +before his eyes Anstice realized a truth which hitherto he had not +suspected. Although her manner in speaking of her husband had never held +the faintest tinge of resentment, nor the least hint of rancour, neither +had it betrayed any touch of a warmer feeling than a half-compassionate +friendliness; and Anstice had never suspected the world of feeling which +apparently lay locked in her heart. He had thought her cold, +self-contained, genuinely cynical. He saw her now, impulsive, gay, +radiant; and he knew to what this striking, this indescribably happy +change was due.</p> + +<p>Chloe Carstairs was in love, overwhelmingly, irresistibly in love with +her husband; and now Anstice was able to gauge something of the +bitterness of the life she had led for the last few months. Where he had +thought her cold she had been indeed suffering. Her assumed cynicism, +her weary indifference had been the cloak of a sharp and almost hopeless +misery; and at the thought of her heroic acceptance of her husband's +unbelief, an unbelief which must have been almost unbearably galling, +Anstice paid her in his heart a higher tribute than he had hitherto +bestowed on any woman.</p> + +<p>That the cloud of which Major Carstairs had spoken had indeed lifted was +evident in the glances which passed shyly between the two; and as Chloe +answered her husband's eager question her blue eyes rested almost +tenderly on his face.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I think the truth has come to light at last."</p> + +<p>"You mean the woman has confessed?" It was Anstice who spoke, and she +turned to him at once with an animation of look and manner very +different from her former languor.</p> + +<p>"Well, as to confession I hardly know. But she has told me the whole +story; and if you are both prepared to listen I will pass it on to you +at once."</p> + +<p>Sitting a little forward, her hands locked on the knee of her white +gown, her blue eyes extraordinarily vivid in her softly-coloured face, +she began her tale; and both men listened to her with rapt attention as +her deep voice rang through the quiet room.</p> + +<p>"It seems that years ago when Tochatti was a girl, living in a village +close to Naples, she was betrothed to a handsome young Sicilian, a +fisherman from Palermo. The story, as Tochatti told it, is a long and +rather involved affair; but it is sufficient to say that there was +another girl enamoured of Tochatti's lover; and matters were complicated +still further by the fact that this girl was engaged to someone else. +Well, Luigi, Tochatti's sweetheart, had evidently encouraged the second +girl behind Tochatti's back; and when Tochatti found out she was so +inflamed with rage and jealousy that, overhearing of an appointment +between Bella and Luigi, she wrote a note in a handwriting roughly +resembling that of Bella to the latter's sweetheart, a certain José, +bidding him meet her at the same time and place as that arranged by the +other two. Well, José went, expecting to meet his beloved—and found her +in Luigi's arms. Tragedy followed, of course. José first tore the girl +away and then stabbed her to the heart, afterwards turning on Luigi. +They struggled—on the edge of the cliff; and Luigi proving the +stronger, José was hurled over the edge into the sea below."</p> + +<p>"A tragedy indeed," commented Major Carstairs as the speaker paused. +"What was the next act? Did Luigi and Tochatti become reconciled and +walk off arm-in-arm?"</p> + +<p>"No." Chloe's voice sank a little. "It seems that when Tochatti, +horror-struck by the result of her interference, rushed on to the scene, +Luigi turned upon her, guessing somehow that she was responsible, and +taxed her with having lured José to the spot that night. She owned up to +it, and instead of imploring forgiveness appeared to glory in her +treachery, whereupon Luigi, throwing the fatal letter into her face, +burst into a torrent of rage, telling her he had never cared for her, +that Bella was the only girl he had ever loved, and finished up by +stabbing himself before her eyes rather than endure a life from which +his adored one had vanished for ever."</p> + +<p>"I say! What a tale—quite a Shakespearean ending, stage fairly littered +with corpses," struck in Major Carstairs. "I wonder Tochatti didn't put +the finishing touch by stabbing herself as well!"</p> + +<p>"She did think of it, I believe," owned Chloe, "but the sound of +quarrelling had brought other people on the scene, and Tochatti was of +course arrested and the whole story investigated with more or less +thoroughness. Being a pretty common story, however—for the Sicilians +are a hot-blooded race—it was quite easy for the authorities to +reconstruct the scene; and since Tochatti was innocent of any actual +crime she was eventually released; only to fall ill with some affection +of the brain which finally landed her in an asylum."</p> + +<p>"An asylum!" Anstice whistled. "Yet one would have hesitated to call her +insane——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, now, but you must remember this is very many years ago. She +recovered at length, and the only reminiscence of the tragedy was a +marked aversion to using pen or pencil. She seemed to think that having +wrought so much harm by her one attempt at letter-writing she would be +wiser to avoid such things in future."</p> + +<p>"Pity she didn't keep her resolve," commented Major Carstairs dryly; and +Chloe nodded.</p> + +<p>"Yes. We should all have been spared a good deal of trouble. Well, as +you know, she entered my mother's service during her honeymoon in Italy, +and was my nurse as a child. Now I come to the second half of the story. +Tochatti chose to adore me from my early youth"—she smiled +faintly—"and she always bore a grudge against anyone who did not fall +down and worship me too. And this peculiar attitude of hers has a +bearing on the affair of the letters. When Mrs. Ogden chose to quarrel +with me, or at least evince a decided coldness, Tochatti's ready hatred +flared up; and after the unlucky day when Mrs. Ogden cut me dead before +half the county at a Flower Show, she determined to show the woman she +could not be allowed to insult me with impunity."</p> + +<p>"It certainly was a piece of unpardonable rudeness," said Major +Carstairs warmly; and Chloe smiled.</p> + +<p>"Yes—and at the moment I resented it very bitterly. But if Tochatti +herself had not been there, in charge of Cherry, the matter would have +dropped—and it was really unfortunate she should have seen the 'cut.' +Well, it seems that Tochatti brooded over the affair, wondering how best +to get even with the person who dared to act insolently towards me." +Chloe's voice held just a tinge of mockery. "Twenty odd years of +residence in England had taught her that one can't use daggers and +knives with impunity, and I believe at first she was genuinely puzzled +to know how to act. I suppose the thought of weapons turned her mind +back to that Sicilian affair; and suddenly it flashed upon her that +letters, after all, could be trusted to do a good deal of injury."</p> + +<p>"So she wrote an anonymous letter calculated to do harm to the unlucky +subject thereof?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and sent it to Sir Richard Wayne. Well, once having started she +apparently couldn't leave off. Her venom grew, so to speak, by being fed +in this manner; and she wrote one letter after another—you know her +mother was English, and she was well versed in our tongue—until +practically everyone in the parish knew a garbled version of Mrs. +Ogden's sordid little story."</p> + +<p>"One moment, Chloe." Major Carstairs had a soldier's mind for detail. +"How did the woman know that story? I thought no one ever owned to +having heard it?"</p> + +<p>"No one ever did," said Chloe rather bitterly. "But the explanation is +simple after all. Mrs. Ogden had, before I made my appearance on the +scene, repeated the tale to another woman in the parish—the young wife +of a solicitor whom she had 'taken up' with great fervour on her first +arrival in Littlefield; and this woman had repeated the story to her +French maid. The latter, being a stranger in England was pleased to make +Tochatti's acquaintance; and one day told her the story, of course in +strictest confidence. Well, the woman, the solicitor's wife, died, +almost immediately after that, as the result of a motor accident; and +her maid returned to her home somewhere in the valley of the Loire, +without having, so far as one can conjecture, passed on the tale to +anyone else."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Anstice thoughtfully, as Chloe came to a stop. "Quite a +simple explanation, as you say, yet one which might never have come to +light."</p> + +<p>"There is still a point puzzling me," said Carstairs meditatively. "I +can understand Tochatti writing the letters, and thus seeking to injure +a woman whom she considered to be the enemy of her mistress. But how did +she ever bring herself to allow you to be suspected, Chloe?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, that is where the mystery really comes in, and where, possibly, Dr. +Anstice's theory of the double personality may be considered." Chloe +looked at them both rather dubiously. "I confess I can't understand that +part of the story myself. Tochatti has assured me that she never for an +instant dreamed I should be suspected—the slight similarity in some of +the writing to some of mine was more or less accidental, though she +admits she had tried to model her script on mine because she admired +it ... as she admired all my poor faculties," said Chloe, with a little +shrug of her shoulders. "I really believe she used my pens and paper +without any idea of the harm she was doing me—in fact, if such a +supposition could be entertained for a moment, I don't believe she had +any very clear idea what she was doing beyond a fixed intention to work +harm to the woman she detested."</p> + +<p>"You mean that the idea of this Mrs. Ogden filled her mental horizon to +the exclusion of any other thought?" It was Anstice who put the +question.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Honestly I believe she was incapable of looking, as one might say, +all round the subject. You see"—Chloe hesitated, not sure how far the +suggestion was permissible—"she had once been in an asylum, and +possibly her brain had never worked quite normally since that tragedy on +the cliffs."</p> + +<p>"No, it is possible she was the victim of a sort of monomania," conceded +Anstice. "In which case no other person would be connected in her mind +with the affair save the one against whom the campaign was directed. It +is a pretty lame explanation, I own, but then the workings of the human +mind are so extraordinarily incomprehensible sometimes that I, for my +part, have very nearly ceased being surprised at anything a man or woman +may be disposed to do!"</p> + +<p>"Tochatti tells me she grew very uneasy when things began to look really +black," continued Chloe. "She had not understood when she started that +letters of this kind rendered one liable to imprisonment sometimes; and +she was horrified when she discovered that fact. I believe she would +willingly have undone the harm she had done if it had been possible; for +she couldn't help seeing, as the days went on, that I was in grave +danger of incurring the penalty of her fault. Once, at least, I am sure +she nerved herself to tell the whole truth——"</p> + +<p>"Her good intentions evidently went to pave a place which shall be +nameless," said Major Carstairs dryly. "After all, her affection for you +seems to have been a very pinchbeck affair, Chloe, if she could calmly +stand by and see you suffer for her wickedness. And for my part I don't +see how you can be expected to forgive her."</p> + +<p>For a second Chloe sat silently in her corner of the couch; and in her +face were the traces of the conflicting emotions which made for a moment +a battlefield of her soul.</p> + +<p>After all Chloe Carstairs was a very human woman; and it is not in human +nature to suffer a great wrong and feel no resentment against those who +have inflicted that wrong. Had she been able to forgive Tochatti +immediately, to condone her wickedness, to restore the woman to her old +place in her esteem, Chloe had been something less—or more—than human; +and that she was after all only mortal was proved by her answer to +Carstairs' last speech.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I have forgiven her—yet——" she said very quietly. "At +the same time I don't care to doubt the genuineness of her affection for +me. I would rather think that she turned coward at the notion of +suffering punishment, and let me endure it in her place through a +selfish terror which forbade her to own up and take the blame herself."</p> + +<p>"Well—if you look at it like that——" Major Carstairs was evidently +not satisfied; and Chloe, possibly feeling unable, or reluctant, to make +any further excuse for Tochatti, hurried on with her tale.</p> + +<p>"Another factor in Tochatti's determination not to suffer herself is to +be found in her dread of a prison as a sort of asylum like that in which +she had been confined abroad. I don't know what kind of institution that +had been, but she evidently retains to this day a very vivid +recollection of the horrors she then endured; and her heart failed her +at the bare thought of returning to such a frightful existence as she +had then experienced. At any rate"—she suddenly abandoned her +apologia—"she could not face it; and so she allowed me to take the +blame; and by reiterating the fact that she could not write—a theory +which the other servants held, in common with me——"</p> + +<p>"But had you never seen her write? It seems odd, all the years she had +been in your service!"</p> + +<p>"No, I had never seen her write, for the simple reason that she never +did write. It seems that the result of that fatal letter of hers had +imprinted a horror of writing on her mind; and I really believe that +until the day on which she penned the first anonymous letter she had +never taken a pen or pencil in her hand...."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's admitted she wrote those letters, and hoodwinked the world," +said Carstairs briskly. "And though I confess I don't understand how she +could reconcile her actions with her affection for you we will let that +point pass. But now—what about those last letters? Is Dr. Anstice's +supposition that she was jealous of him correct?"</p> + +<p>"Quite." Chloe looked at Anstice rather apologetically. "You know +Tochatti is of a horribly jealous disposition; and she could not bear to +see Cherry growing fonder of you day by day. That unlucky accident was +the crowning point, of course; and the fact that you appeared to slight +her powers of looking after the child—you must forgive me for putting +it like that—was too much for her. With the arrival of Nurse Trevor +Tochatti seemed to lose all sense of decent behaviour; and her idea was +to repeat her former experience and circularize the neighbourhood with a +scandalous story which she hoped, as she has since owned to me, might +succeed in driving you away."</p> + +<p>"A very pretty plot," said Anstice quietly, "and one which deserved to +succeed. But, Mrs. Carstairs, if you will allow me to repeat your +husband's question—how did she learn my unhappy story?"</p> + +<p>"I expected you to ask that," returned Chloe steadily, "and I made it my +business to find out for you. Well, like the other explanation, it is +very simple. While I was away"—in her new-born happiness Chloe would +not distress her husband by speaking more plainly—"Tochatti took Cherry +down to my old home, where my mother still lives, and of course it was +only natural that she should there hear some version of the story as it +affected my brother Bruce. She acknowledges she would never have +connected you with the affair save for the unlucky fact that on the +night you and Bruce met here he came to my room afterwards to tell me +how and in what circumstances you had met before; and most unfortunately +Tochatti, who was in an adjoining room, heard his explanation. She +didn't think much of it at the time, but stored it up in her mind; and +when, later, she wished to injure you, there was the means ready to +hand."</p> + +<p>"Like the proverbial Corsican who will carry a stone in his pocket for +seven years, turn it, and carry it for another seven on the chance of +being able to sling it at his enemy in the end," commented Carstairs. +"Well, thank God, the whole story is cleared up now; and the next thing +to do is to set about making the matter public and seeing justice done +at last."</p> + +<p>"Quite so—and it should be easy now," concurred Anstice heartily. "With +the letter you hold as evidence and the woman's full confession you +should not have much trouble with the case."</p> + +<p>Looking at Chloe as he spoke he saw a strange expression flit across her +face. The next instant she rose and going across to her husband's chair +stood looking down upon him with unfathomable blue eyes.</p> + +<p>"Leo"—her voice was very low—"is it really necessary that the matter +should be made public? So long as you know the truth—and Dr. +Anstice—and my dear friends Sir Richard and Iris, can't we let the +subject drop? You know I don't care in the least for the opinion of the +world, and it would mean so much trouble, so much raking up of things +best forgotten. Couldn't we"—she hesitated—"couldn't we leave things +alone, and just be thankful that <i>we</i> know the truth at last?"</p> + +<p>Major Carstairs looked up at his wife as she stood before him; and his +voice was very gentle as he answered her.</p> + +<p>"But, Chloe, what of Tochatti herself? She must not be allowed to go +unpunished. Besides, there is another aspect of the case. You know these +abominable letters have been scattered broadcast in the land, and it is +only fair to Dr. Anstice that their authorship should be published and +their lies refuted."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I had forgotten that." She turned to Anstice, who had risen and +was standing leaning against the mantelpiece, looking desperately +uncomfortable. "Forgive me, please, Dr. Anstice! For the second time I +had forgotten that you were the victim of this latest outrage of +Tochatti's——"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Carstairs—please!" In his haste to explain himself Anstice spoke +rather incoherently. "If you are willing to let this matter drop—why, +so am I. For your own sake I think, while you are behaving nobly, you +are making a mistake—a most generous, chivalrous mistake—in not +proving your entire innocence before all the world, but if you are +really resolved on it, do let me make you understand that personally I +am only too ready to let the whole thing slide into the oblivion it +deserves!"</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow"—Major Carstairs spoke warmly—"this is all very well, +very Quixotic, very—well, what you call noble, chivalrous—but what +about the moral side of the affair? Justice should be tempered with +mercy, certainly; but it doesn't do to defraud justice altogether of her +dues. The woman has committed a crime—I repeat it, a crime against +society, against you, against my wife; and to let her go unpunished is +to put a premium on wickedness; and leave both you and my wife to lie +under a most undeserved, most cruel stigma."</p> + +<p>For a moment Anstice hesitated; and before he could frame a reply Chloe +spoke very quietly, yet with a decision there was no mistaking.</p> + +<p>"Leo, I see your point of view plainly—a good deal more plainly, I +think, than you see mine. Of course as a man you want your wife's name +cleared; and if you insist on making the affair public, why then"—said +Chloe with a little smile—"I suppose I must submit as a good wife +should. But"—she was serious now—"if you knew how I dread the +publicity of it all—the reports in the papers, the gossip, the +talk—oh, it makes me shudder even to think of it! And if you imagine me +revengeful enough to find satisfaction in the idea of Tochatti's +punishment—well, I think you must have a quite mistaken notion of me +after all!"</p> + +<p>Major Carstairs hesitated, looking from his wife to Anstice in manifest +perplexity.</p> + +<p>"Well, really, Chloe, I don't know what to say. Of course you and Dr. +Anstice are the people chiefly concerned; and if you are both of you +sufficiently superhuman to forego your legitimate revenge—well, I +suppose it is not for me to interfere!"</p> + +<p>"Suppose you think it over, sir." Anstice felt a sudden desire to get +away, to be alone, to think over the revelation of the past half-hour. +"For my part I really must go about my work—I'd no idea it was so late. +By the way, who will take charge of Tochatti to-night? She is asleep +now"—he had seen to that—"but later on she will want a little looking +after. She has not borne out my theory," he added, turning to the +soldier. "I thought that last night's excitement would have vanished +entirely to-day; but I'm bound to admit she is in a queer state; and if +she is no better to-morrow you will have to let me send someone to look +after her."</p> + +<p>"The housekeeper and I will be able to do that at present," said Chloe +quietly. "You know poor Tochatti's hatred of professional nurses was +directly responsible for that last burst of letter-writing, so we had +better not try her too far!"</p> + +<p>"By the way, where's the dagger she produced with such lightning +sleight-of-hand last night?" Anstice put the question casually as he +turned towards the door. "It would not be wise to leave it about, in +case she felt like using it again!"</p> + +<p>"It is hidden, at present, in my dressing-case," said Chloe. "I picked +it up last night and flung it in there lest anyone should see it. But I +agree it would be safer locked up; and I will give it to you, Leo, when +I go upstairs."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it will be better in my keeping," said Carstairs briskly. "Though +I hope the madness which induced her to try to use it will have passed +before long."</p> + +<p>"We'll see how she is in the morning," said Anstice as he shook hands +with Chloe. "I'll come round directly after breakfast, shall I? Quite +possibly she will be herself again after a long sleep."</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice"—Chloe retained his hand for a moment—"are you quite sure +you don't regret agreeing with me over the possible hushing up of the +affair? I'm afraid, after all, I made it rather hard for you to do +anything but acquiesce just now. But if, after thinking it over, you +decide that the story should be made public, well, I am quite ready to +abide by your decision."</p> + +<p>"No, Mrs. Carstairs." Anstice's tone was too sincere for her to doubt +his genuineness. "For my own part I am more than ready to stand by my +former verdict; and the final decision rests entirely with you. +Only—perhaps I may be permitted to express my thankfulness that the +problem has been solved—and my hope that you—and your husband—may +find the future sufficiently bright to atone for the darkness of the +past."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she said gently, and her eyes looked very soft. "At least +my husband and I will never forget that we owe our happiness to you."</p> + +<p>And with the words, cordially endorsed by Major Carstairs, ringing in +his ears Anstice left Cherry Orchard and fared forth once more into the +gloomy November night.</p> + +<p>As he drove away he told himself that he was truly glad the mystery was +elucidated at last. Yet even as he did so he knew that his own share in +the matter gave him little satisfaction. He felt no elation at the turn +of events. He told himself impatiently that he ought by rights to be +jubilant, since it was owing to his efforts that Tochatti had been +unmasked; but in spite of his honest endeavour to spur his flagging +emotions his heart felt heavy in his breast, and there was no elation in +his soul.</p> + +<p>After all, he told himself wearily, the discovery of the truth meant +very little to him. With Mrs. Carstairs the case was widely different; +and he did rejoice, sincerely, in her happiness; but for himself, having +lost Iris Wayne, all lesser events were of very little importance after +all.</p> + +<p>"I wonder how Mrs. Carstairs will decide," he said to himself as he +drove homewards. "Whatever her decision I suppose I must abide by it; +but for myself I sincerely hope she will stick to her first view of the +matter."</p> + +<p>And then he dismissed the subject from his thoughts for the moment, +little dreaming of the awful and tragic manner in which the decision was +to be taken out of Chloe Carstairs' hands in the course of the next few +hours.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He was just thinking of going to bed that night when the telephone bell +rang sharply; and with one of those strange premonitions to which all +highly-strung people are at times liable, he connected the call +instantly with the affair at Cherry Orchard.</p> + +<p>"Yes ... I'm Dr. Anstice ... who is it?"</p> + +<p>"Carstairs," came the answer over the wire. "I say, Anstice, +can you come at once? Something appalling has +happened—Tochatti—she—she's——"</p> + +<p>"She has killed herself." The words were more of an assertion than a +question.</p> + +<p>"Yes ... with that beastly dagger ... found it somehow and stabbed +herself ... what? ... yes ... quite dead ... I'm sure of it...."</p> + +<p>"I'll come round at once. Does Mrs. Carstairs know?"</p> + +<p>"Yes ... what? ... yes, a dreadful shock, but she's quite +calm ... you'll come ... the sooner the better ... many thanks...."</p> + +<p>Anstice hung up the receiver and turned away, feeling almost stunned by +the news he had received. The woman's death, coming on the top of the +events of the preceding twenty-four hours, was in itself sufficient to +shake even his nerve; but he lost no time in obeying the summons and +arrived at Cherry Orchard just as the clock struck twelve.</p> + +<p>He found the entire household up, the tragic news having circulated with +the rapidity peculiar to such catastrophic tidings; and preceded by +Major Carstairs, who met him in the hall, he hurried upstairs to the +room where Tochatti lay in her last sleep.</p> + +<p>It was quite true, as Major Carstairs had said, that she was dead. She +had only too evidently been aware of the dagger's hiding-place, probably +through familiarity with Chloe's movements in normal times; and had +seized a moment when the housekeeper, thinking her asleep, had left her +to procure a fresh stock of candles for the night's vigil, to slip into +Chloe's room in search of the weapon.</p> + +<p>Once in possession of the dagger the rest was easy; and whatever might +be the nature of the emotions which drove her to the deed, whether +remorse, dread of punishment, or some half-crazed fear of what the +future might hold, the result was certain—and fatal.</p> + +<p>She had made no mistake this time. The dagger had been plunged squarely +in her breast; and when the housekeeper stole in again, expecting to +find her charge still asleep, her horrified eyes were met by the sight +of Tochatti's life-blood ebbing over the white sheets, her ears assailed +by the choking gurgle with which the misguided woman yielded up her +life....</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Yes, she is quite dead, poor thing." Anstice replaced the bedclothes +and stood looking down on the dead woman with a steady gaze. "Perhaps, +knowing her former brain weakness, I ought to have expected this. But in +any case, Mrs. Carstairs"—he turned to Chloe, who stood, white and +rigid, by his side—"the decision has been taken out of your—of our +hands now. The matter is bound to come to light, after all."</p> + +<p>"You mean there must be an inquest—an inquiry into this affair?" It was +Major Carstairs who spoke.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so—you see a thing like this can't very well be hushed up," +said Anstice rather reluctantly. "And though I can't help feeling +thankful that Mrs. Carstairs will have justice done to her at last, I'm +sure we all feel we would have borne a good deal sooner than let this +dreadful thing happen."</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice"—Chloe turned to him almost appealingly—"are we really to +blame? If we hadn't plotted, set a trap to catch my poor Tochatti, this +would not have come to pass; and I shall always feel that by leaving the +dagger in my dressing-case I was the means of bringing this dreadful +tragedy about."</p> + +<p>"Come, Mrs. Carstairs, you mustn't talk nonsense of that kind!" His tone +was bracing. "You were not in the least to blame. If anyone was, I +should be the person, seeing I did not warn you of this possibility. But +you know the poor soul was a very determined woman; and if she had set +her mind on self-destruction she would have carried out her intention +somehow."</p> + +<p>"Well, at least there will be no object in keeping the authorship of +those confounded letters a secret now," said Major Carstairs, putting +his hand kindly on his wife's arm. "After all poor Tochatti has done us +a service by her death which will go far towards wiping out the injury +of her life. And now it is one o'clock, and we none of us had much sleep +last night——"</p> + +<p>"You're right," said Anstice quickly, "and Mrs. Carstairs looks worn +out. Can't you persuade her to go to bed, Major Carstairs? There is +really no need for her to stay here harrowing her feelings another +moment."</p> + +<p>"I'll go," she said at once. "Good-night again, Dr. Anstice. It will +comfort me to know that you don't think me entirely to blame—for this."</p> + +<p>"I think you are as innocent in this matter as in that other one we +discussed to-night," he said quietly. "And this poor woman here, if, as +we may surely believe, she has regained by now the sanity she may have +temporarily lost, would be the last to think any but kindly thoughts of +you in the light of her fuller humanity."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she said again, as she had said it earlier in the evening; +and once more they exchanged the firm and cordial handshake by which +those who are truly friends seal their parting.</p> + +<p>When he had closed the door behind her he came back to the bedside where +Major Carstairs still stood, looking down on the dead woman with an +unfathomable expression in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Anstice, from the bottom of my heart I regret the manner of this poor +soul's passing," he said, and his voice was genuinely moved. "But even +so I can't altogether regret that she took this way of cutting the knot. +For now my wife and I may at least hope for the ordinary happiness which +other human beings know. We have been in the shadow a long time, Chloe +and I"—he spoke half to himself—"but now we may surely pray for +sunshine for the rest of our earthly pilgrimage together."</p> + +<p>"Amen to that," said Anstice solemnly; and as the two men shook hands +silently each rejoiced, in his individual fashion, that Chloe Carstairs +had come into her own at last.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_III" id="BOOK_III"></a>BOOK III</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IB" id="CHAPTER_IB"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + + +<p>Anstice stood on the deck of the P. and O. boat <i>Moldavia</i>, looking out +over the blue seas to where Port Said lay white and shining in the rays +of the March sun.</p> + +<p>He had seen the port before, on his way to and from India, but he had +never landed there, and looked forward with some keenness of +anticipation to setting foot in the place which enjoys, rightly or +wrongly, one of the most unsavoury reputations in the world.</p> + +<p>Not that his stay would be long—a night at most—for he purposed +journeying on to Cairo without loss of time, and as the boat drew nearer +and nearer to the quay, whereon a crowd of gesticulating natives raised +the unholy din which every traveller associates with this particular +landing, Anstice turned about and swung down the companion to take a +last look round his dismantled cabin.</p> + +<p>It was now nearly eight weeks since he had quitted Littlefield. Having +disposed of his practice in the nick of time to a college friend who +wished to settle in the country, and having also received an unexpected +windfall in the shape of a small legacy from a distant relation, he had +decided, after a short stay in London, to take a holiday before starting +to work once more.</p> + +<p>His choice of a destination had not been unaffected by the fact of Iris +Cheniston's residence in the land of Egypt. Although he had no +expectation of meeting her—for she and her husband were still somewhere +in the desert, a couple of days' journey from Cairo—there was an odd +fascination in the bare idea of inhabiting, even for a few weeks, the +land which held the girl he still loved. For although he had long since +determined that he must avoid Bruce Cheniston's wife if he wished to +keep his secret inviolate, and incidentally attempt, by starving his +passion of its natural food, to keep his love unsullied by any hint of +envy, any emotion of desire—well, all men are sophists at heart, and in +spite of all his self-assurances that he could visit Egypt without +seeking to gain even a glimpse of Iris, ever in the background of his +thoughts lay a delicious, barely formulated hope that possibly Fate +might vouchsafe to him one fleeting vision on which his hungry heart +might feed in the empty days which must needs ensue.</p> + +<p>There had been changes in Littlefield since that November evening on +which the truth concerning the anonymous letters had come to light. +After Tochatti's death it had naturally proved impossible altogether to +hush up the tragedy and its immediate results, and although Anstice had +done his best to mitigate the position for Major Carstairs and his wife, +the inquest had proved a trying affair for all of them.</p> + +<p>Since the woman was dead there was no need to keep the authorship of +those letters a secret, and before he left Littlefield Anstice had the +satisfaction of knowing that Mrs. Carstairs' name had been effectually +cleared from the slur placed upon it by a censorious and ignorant world.</p> + +<p>When once this was accomplished Major Carstairs insisted on carrying off +his wife and Cherry for a long holiday in the south of France, and +although Cherry wept bitterly at the thought of parting from her beloved +Anstice, he was able to console her by a recital of the wonderful things +she would behold by the shores of the azure Mediterranean.</p> + +<p>He was surprised to find, when the real parting came, how hard it was to +say good-bye to his friends. Although he considered himself unsociable, +independent of the claims of friendship, forced, so to speak, into +misanthropy by the circumstances of his life, he had grown to have a +real esteem for Chloe Carstairs, and the spectacle of her new-born +vitality, her radiant happiness, was one which gave him a very deep and +genuine pleasure. As for Cherry, that quaint child had long since twined +herself round his heart-strings, and although Major Carstairs was, +comparatively speaking, a new acquaintance, Anstice respected the +soldier as an honest man and a gentleman.</p> + +<p>A week after their departure another blow befell Anstice in the sudden +death of his friend Fraser Carey, and when at last he was summoned in +haste to Carey's aid he found that the latter had suffered for years +from a painful internal disease.</p> + +<p>"But why not have submitted to an operation years ago?" Anstice asked +him gently as he sat, impotent to help, by his friend's side in the +light of the dying day. "It might have been successful"—he dare not say +more—"and you would have been spared years of agonizing suffering."</p> + +<p>The other man smiled, and his eyes for a moment lost their look of pain.</p> + +<p>"Quite so," he said gently, "but at the same time I might—probably +should—have died. I took the best advice, nearly ruined myself with +visiting specialists"—he smiled very faintly—"and none could give me +any assurance that I should live through it. And I could not +afford—then—to die."</p> + +<p>"Not afford?" Anstice stared at him in amazement.</p> + +<p>"No. You see"—his voice was a mere thread—"you see I had a wife, +Anstice—oh, no one knows, and my secret is safe with you—and although +I could not live with her ... she was not what the world calls a good +woman, and her ideal of life was not one which I, as a clergyman, could +assist her to realize—well, I could not let her sink altogether for +want of money to keep some sort of home together."</p> + +<p>"You sent her money?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I sent what I could from my stipend—it wasn't much—God's +ministers are supposed to be content with the promises of treasure in +heaven," said Carey, with a hint of humour in his weak tone. "I made a +little, too, by writing for the reviews. But it was precarious, Anstice, +precarious; and I dared not risk dying, and leaving her in want."</p> + +<p>"And now?" Anstice had noted the tense in which he spoke of his wife, +and he guessed the answer before the other spoke.</p> + +<p>"She is dead—she died three weeks ago," said Carey quietly. "And now I +can give up the struggle myself——"</p> + +<p>"I wish to God you had told me earlier," said Anstice vehemently. "At +least I might have done something for you——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I had alleviations," said Carey slowly. "When the pain grew +unendurable I had remedies which gave me some relief. But I knew that if +I told you you would seek to persuade me to a course I really could not +have adopted. You mustn't mind me saying it, Anstice. Perhaps I have +been wrong all through." His voice was wistful. "But I did what I +thought was right—and luckily for us poor men God judges us by our +intentions, so to speak, and not by the results."</p> + +<p>The words returned to Anstice's mind three days later as he stood by the +graveside of his friend, and in his heart he wondered whether it were +indeed true that what men called failure might, in the eyes of God, +spell a great and glorious success.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The next person to leave Littlefield was Sir Richard Wayne. For since +his daughter's wedding he had been finding life without her almost +unbearable, and at length he avowed that the English climate in winter +was altogether more than any sensible man could be expected to endure—a +somewhat surprising statement from a former M.F.H.—and declared his +intention of paying a visit to Iris and her husband in Egypt forthwith.</p> + +<p>It was of Sir Richard Wayne that Anstice was thinking half an hour later +when the <i>Moldavia</i> had come to her berth at the quay and he was about +to leave the ship on which the short and prosperous voyage had been +made.</p> + +<p>However much the theory of the astral body of man may be denied or +ridiculed, there is no doubt that an unusually vivid thought-presentment +of a friend frequently precedes the appearance of that friend in the +flesh, and it is certain that the mental image of Sir Richard Wayne had +been, for some reason, so strongly before Anstice's mind that in a tall, +grey-clad figure pushing his way vigorously through the crowd of natives +he was inclined to see a striking resemblance to the object of his +thoughts.</p> + +<p>He told himself, rather impatiently, that the notion was absurd. He had +been dwelling for so long on the vision of Sir Richard's daughter that +he had lost, for the moment, his sense of reality, and he turned aside +to reclaim his baggage from the vociferous Arabs who wished, so it +appeared, to appropriate both it and him, without casting another glance +in the direction of Sir Richard's double.</p> + +<p>Yet the hallucination persisted. He could have sworn he heard Sir +Richard's voice raised in protest as the crowding natives impeded his +progress towards the gangway of the boat; and at last Anstice turned +fully round, with half-ashamed curiosity, to see what manner of man this +was who wore the semblance and spoke in the tongue of Sir Richard Wayne.</p> + +<p>As his black eyes roved over the intervening faces they were caught and +held by another pair of eyes—grey eyes these, in whose clear and frank +depths was a strong resemblance to those other wide grey eyes he loved, +and in the next moment Anstice realized that a miracle had happened, and +that the first person to give him greeting in this land of mystery was +none other than Sir Richard Wayne himself.</p> + +<p>About the gladness of the other's greeting there could be no two +opinions. Utterly disregarding the touts and porters who swarmed round +him Sir Richard came forward with outstretched hand, and his eyes fairly +shone with joy and with something that looked like relief.</p> + +<p>"Anstice! By all that's wonderful!" He wrung the younger man's hand +heartily as he spoke. "How came you here—and are you landing for good, +or just taking a look round this God-forsaken old iniquity of a town?"</p> + +<p>"I'm leaving the ship for good. Want to have a look at +Cairo ... interesting place, I've always heard." For a second Anstice +faltered, feeling as though his friend must see through his pretence, and +guess that it was because this land enshrined the one woman in the world +that he was here. But Sir Richard gave no sign of disbelief, and Anstice +was emboldened to proceed. "But you—what are you doing here? I thought +you were somewhere in the desert with—your daughter."</p> + +<p>"So I was, so I was." Sir Richard hesitated, then spoke rapidly. +"Anstice, are you alone—and disengaged? I mean—could your stay in +Cairo be postponed for a few days? I want—I came down here to look for +a doctor—never thinking I'd have the luck to find you——"</p> + +<p>"A doctor?" Beneath the spur of his quick mind Anstice grew pale. "Is +someone ill? Not—not your daughter?"</p> + +<p>"No, not Iris." Unconsciously Anstice breathed a sigh of relief and the +older man glanced at him curiously. "It is Bruce—my son-in-law—who's +ill; and I've come down here to find a doctor. Couldn't get one in +Cairo—it seems the pilgrims have just returned from Mecca bringing +their pet cholera along with them, and the city's got a scare—so I came +down here to meet the boat, meaning to bribe the ship's surgeon to come +back into the desert with me. If he wouldn't respond to <i>bakshish</i> I +should have tried kidnapping," finished Sir Richard grimly, and Anstice +smiled.</p> + +<p>"No need to do that, sir. I'm here, and I'm ready and willing to do all +you require. But first, hadn't I better put in a claim to my belongings? +It seems to me these rascals would think precious little of making off +with all the lot!"</p> + +<p>"Yes—better let me see to it for you," said Sir Richard quickly. "We've +not too much time for the train to Cairo as it is. If you will go and +bespeak an <i>arabeah</i> I'll get your baggage."</p> + +<p>And as Anstice moved to obey, a very tumult in his heart, Sir Richard +turned back to the wildly-shouting crowd and succeeded in reclaiming +Anstice's portmanteau and Gladstone bag from the clutches of the +blue-robed fiends who fought one another for its possession.</p> + +<p>When they were clear of the quay, driving behind the two long-tailed +little horses along the glaring streets, beneath the thinly-leaved and +dusty trees, Anstice turned to Sir Richard interrogatively.</p> + +<p>"Now, sir, can you tell me what's wrong? Mr. Cheniston is ill, you say. +Do you know the nature of his illness?"</p> + +<p>"Enteric, I'm afraid," Sir Richard informed him gravely. "He went on a +shooting expedition a week or two ago with the rich Egyptian for whom he +has been carrying through a big irrigation job, and one day, when, +through a miscalculation, the wine and provisions did not turn up, the +party lunched at a mud-village on eggs and coffee. Being particularly +thirsty Bruce indulged in a small glass of water with slices of citron, +and although the host's servants swore by the Beard of the Prophet and +so on through all their most sacred oaths that they had boiled the water +first, the odds are that they had not, and that it came straight from +the river or some indescribably polluted well. It seems that the +pilgrims had passed that way, and owing to their pleasing habit of +dropping a little of their precious 'holy' water into the wells they +meet, some of those wells are absolute hotbeds of infection, so to +speak."</p> + +<p>"Whew!" Anstice whistled to express his consternation. "And then, of +course, Mr. Cheniston came home and sickened for this illness."</p> + +<p>"Yes. At first he made light of it, said the expedition had been +fatiguing, he had a touch of the sun, and so on. But at last the disease +manifested itself unmistakably, and three days ago I set out for Cairo +to try to get some medical help."</p> + +<p>"There is no doctor out there?"</p> + +<p>"No. You see it is only a tiny village—hardly that—a settlement in the +midst of a little colony of Bedouins. Iris was first persuaded to go +there by a woman she met in Cairo, a Padre's wife who had gone out—at +least the Padre had—to try the effect of the climate on weak lungs. +They have one kiddie, a child of seven or eight, and they were so +pleased with the place that they stayed on, and were the only white +people in the village, with the exception of a young Australian who had +lost his money and went out there to try to grow vegetables, and a +rather eccentric French artist who set up his studio in a sort of +disused fort built on a high rocky plateau about a mile above the little +settlement. He has gone back to France now, taking with him some really +marvellous studies of the desert, so they say."</p> + +<p>"How far is the place from Cairo?"</p> + +<p>"About a day and a half's journey on horseback. Of course, if it had +been possible to bring Bruce in to Cairo that would have been the best +thing. But we daren't take the risk. Mrs. Wood, the Padre's wife, is a +first-class nurse, and she and Iris are doing their very best for the +poor fellow. But still"—Sir Richard shook his head—"there's no doubt +the illness has got a fast grip of him, and I'm afraid of the result, +Anstice, I confess I am afraid."</p> + +<p>He broke off for a moment, then resumed in a brisker tone:</p> + +<p>"Well, here is the station, and now we may expect another uproar over +your precious baggage. The best thing to do is to single out one fellow +and promise him good <i>bakshish</i> if he gets rid of the others; and here +is Mahomed, who is a first-class fellow for the job!"</p> + +<p>He beckoned to a tall, pock-marked Arab in a dusty fez and faded blue +djibbeh, and by dint of lavish promises secured his noisy but efficient +services, with the result that in an incredibly short space of time the +luggage was safely tumbled into the train and Anstice and Sir Richard +faced each other, exhausted but triumphant, in an otherwise empty +carriage.</p> + +<p>"By Jove, but those beggars make me hot!" Anstice threw himself back +into his corner and drew a long breath. "It's always a mystery to me how +people who live in hot climates are so beastly energetic! They seem to +have quicksilver in their veins, not blood."</p> + +<p>"Yet they are lethargic enough at times," returned Sir Richard, pointing +to a recumbent form lying unconcernedly on the platform a few feet from +their open window. "Look at that fellow sleeping there—he doesn't care +in the least what goes on around him—and many times in the street one +has to move off the pavement to avoid stepping on some idle beggar who's +drawn the hood of his garment over his head and gone to sleep, literally +among the feet of the passers-by!"</p> + +<p>As the train proceeded on its way Sir Richard outlined the situation a +little more fully to his keenly-interested companion.</p> + +<p>"When I left, Mrs. Wood had pretty well taken up her abode with Iris," +he said. "Their servants—native, of course—behaved badly, as those +mongrel Arabs often do, and promptly deserted us soon as they found +there was likely to be trouble ahead. All but one, a very decent chap +called Hassan, who is really fond of Iris and would do a lot for her."</p> + +<p>"The other people in the village—Bedouins, I think you said?—how do +they get on with their white neighbours?"</p> + +<p>Sir Richard's forehead suddenly puckered into a worried frown.</p> + +<p>"Not too well," he said slowly. "The fact is, I believe they resented +the European people settling there at all. As I told you, it is a tiny +settlement—just thirty or so Bedouins who cultivate the land and grow +vegetables, which they hawk to other villages a day's march away. They +daren't openly complain, of course, but I believe they would like to +drive the white folks out; especially young Garnett, who is really +beating them at their own game as a clever agriculturist."</p> + +<p>"There is never any trouble, I suppose?" Somehow Anstice felt a vague +uneasiness at the thought of Iris Cheniston shut up in a desert colony +among sullenly hostile neighbours.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, the Bedouins know the English Government won't allow any +hanky-panky." Sir Richard voiced the assertion so emphatically that a +tiny seed of doubt sprang up in his hearer's heart. "I confess I should +rather like to see Iris and Bruce settle down to civilized life again, +but this is only a holiday, and they won't be there long. Unless——" He +paused and Anstice guessed only too surely the ominous nature of the +pause.</p> + +<p>With an instinctive desire to reassure the other man he spoke quickly.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps when Cheniston is better they will fall in with your advice. No +doubt he will require a change after this illness, and very often, you +know, a man who has been ill takes a dislike to his surroundings, and is +only too ready to exchange them for others."</p> + +<p>"Quite so." Sir Richard spoke absently, looking out of the window the +while, and since he was apparently disinclined for conversation, Anstice +followed his example, seeing plenty to interest him in the panorama +spread before his eyes in this strange and fascinating land, this living +frieze of pictures which might have been transplanted bodily from the +pages of the Old Testament itself.</p> + +<p>Once, when the train came to a standstill at Ismailia, Sir Richard +roused himself to speech.</p> + +<p>"Of course, should the Bedouins ever rise against the strangers in their +midst," he said, repelling with a gesture the attentions of a tall +water-seller who thrust a brass saucer containing a doubtful-looking +liquid through the carriage window, "things might be serious. True, +there are not more than a couple of score of them, and so far, with the +exception of a <i>fracas</i> with Garnett over some vegetables they stole +from him, they have been peaceable enough."</p> + +<p>"I see. And, as you say, they know quite well that the British +Government is behind this handful of English people, and knowing that +reprisals would be certain to follow any lawlessness, I should say they +are too wise to put themselves in the wrong. After all, too, these +people are not doing them any harm by living in their midst."</p> + +<p>"You are right, Anstice, and I'm a silly old fool for letting my +imagination run riot in this way." Sir Richard sat upright and gazed out +at the world of sun and sand through which they were passing. "As you +say, they would not dare—and in any case as soon as Bruce can travel we +will bring them back to civilization."</p> + +<p>"By the way, how soon can we start?" The bare thought of meeting Iris +sent the blood humming wildly through Anstice's veins; and he awaited +Sir Richard's reply with barely-concealed impatience.</p> + +<p>"Well, we shall reach Cairo—if this confounded train doesn't break down +<i>en route</i>—about dinner-time. It would be no use attempting to start +to-night—the horses must be ordered for to-morrow morning, as early as +you like. And no doubt you will want to take one or two things with +you."</p> + +<p>Anstice nodded.</p> + +<p>"Yes—but they won't take long to procure. As for baggage—we travel +light?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—just what we can carry. I have plenty of things out there—can +give you all you need," said Sir Richard more briskly. "And if all goes +well we need not anticipate a long stay. Now, how about a cup of tea? +This beastly sand has gone down my throat in bushels."</p> + +<p>He called the Soudanese attendant and gave him an order, and over the +indifferent tea and Huntley and Palmer biscuits which were presently +brought to them, he and Anstice discussed Littlefield and other matters +widely removed from the subject of their former conversation.</p> + +<p>It was seven o'clock when the train finally ran into the station at +Cairo, humming like a beehive with its crowded native life, and ten +minutes later the two men were driving through the busy streets beneath +the clear green evening sky on the way to the hotel chosen by Sir +Richard.</p> + +<p>"The Angleterre—it's quieter than Shepheard's," he said, "and anyhow it +is only for one night. After dinner we'll go and make arrangements for +an early start. That will suit you all right?"</p> + +<p>"The earlier the better," returned Anstice promptly, and as their +carriage drew up before the hotel he sprang out with an eagerness which +seemed to betoken a readiness to start forthwith.</p> + +<p>By ten o'clock that night all arrangements were made, horses bespoken, +baggage packed, and all necessaries purchased, and shortly afterwards +the two men exchanged cordial good-nights and retired to their +respective rooms to seek the refreshment of sleep in preparation for the +morrow's early start.</p> + +<p>But though Sir Richard, his mind relieved by his meeting with Anstice, +fell into a sound slumber ten minutes after he laid his head down on his +pillow, Anstice lay awake all night between the white walls of his +mosquito curtains.</p> + +<p>For there was that in his thoughts which effectually banished sleep.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IIB" id="CHAPTER_IIB"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + + +<p>Anstice never forgot that first day's ride over the desert sand. They +had started early, very shortly, indeed, after daybreak, and by the time +the sun was fully risen they were already some miles on their way.</p> + +<p>It was a heavenly morning, the dry and glittering air full of that +peculiar, crisp sparkle which mounts to one's head like champagne. The +sand shone and twinkled in the yellow sunshine with an almost dazzling +effect, and the pale blue sky had not yet taken on the pitiless +ultramarine hue which comes with the brazen noon.</p> + +<p>The horses, too, seemed alive to the exhilarating quality of the air. +They curvetted and danced over the sand, tossing their arched necks and +lifting their feet daintily as though they were conscious of the beauty +and fitness of their own motion.</p> + +<p>"By Jove, Sir Richard, life is worth living on a morning like this!" +Anstice threw back his head and inhaled large draughts of the +intoxicating, sun-warmed air. "Why on earth do we herd in cities when +there are glorious tracts of desert land where one might pitch one's +tent! I declare I wish I were a nomad myself!"</p> + +<p>"You feel like that?" Sir Richard looked a trifle wistfully at the +younger man, envying him his superior youth and more robust physique. +"For my part I confess to a distrust of the desert. It seems to me as +though there were a blight on these huge tracts of sand, as though the +Creator had regretted their creation, yet was too perfect a Worker to +try, by altering the original purpose of His handiwork, to turn them +into something for which they were not intended."</p> + +<p>He paused, pulling up his horse and turning in his saddle to survey the +yellow and brown waste over which they had come.</p> + +<p>"I suppose, as an Englishman whose forbears have always clung to the +soil, I find more pleasure in beholding an English landscape," he said, +with a smile which was half apologetic. "The ideal of making two blades +of grass spring where there was but one before may not be a very exalted +one, but I confess I see more beauty in a field of grain waving under +the August sun, than in these acres of yellow sand, and the thought of a +perpetual summer, with never the soft grey tones of an autumn sky or the +crisp frostiness of a winter's morning—well, it doesn't appeal to my +John Bull soul!"</p> + +<p>He laughed, ashamed of his vehemence, and the horses sprang gaily +forward, glad to be moving again after even so brief a halt.</p> + +<p>All through the morning they rode, resting for an hour or two at noon; +and in the late afternoon they remounted their horses and fared forth +once more in search of the camping-place Sir Richard had in mind.</p> + +<p>By dint of compasses and an unusually accurate sense of location, the +older man had staked their course with admirable directness, and as the +moon rose they drew rein at the appointed destination, a wild and rocky +valley whose caves offered a natural protection from the chill night +breeze which blew with disconcerting freshness over the loose, +salt-impregnated sand.</p> + +<p>Here, thanks to the ever-useful thermos flask, they enjoyed a sufficient +meal of hot soup, followed by a multitude of sandwiches of divers kinds; +and when, after a pull at their respective flasks, the two lit their +pipes and stretched their limbs, cramped by the day's exertions, +Anstice, at least, felt more at peace with the world than he had felt +for years.</p> + +<p>To be hastening towards Iris Cheniston, to be sure of meeting her within +twenty-four hours, sure of seeing the kind friendliness of her wide grey +eyes, of hearing the soft cooing notes of her voice, was enough to make +a man content with his lot; and the fact that he was journeying towards +her in order to do his best to save the life of the one human being who +stood between him and his happiness lost all its irony when he +remembered that it was in reality Iris herself for whom this service was +undertaken.</p> + +<p>The next morning found them early astir; and as their horses danced over +the sand, literally throwing the miles behind them, Sir Richard's +spirits, which had been somewhat fluctuating, rose with a bound. He +whistled gaily as they rode, ever and anon breaking off to conjecture on +the nature of the welcome they might reasonably expect to receive; and +when he spoke, as he did frequently, of his son-in-law, his +prognostications, in striking contrast with his former pessimism, were +couched in the most hopeful language.</p> + +<p>Strange to say, as his spirits rose, so did those of Anstice sink. An +odd foreboding, a premonition for which he could not account, displaced +the gladness from his heart; and as they rode on and ever onwards he +told himself that they were surely riding towards tragedy.</p> + +<p>Possibly it was the Celtic strain in him which rendered him liable to +these strange and perverse forebodings of evil. On sundry other +occasions in his earlier youth he had fallen with appalling swiftness +from the heights of glad anticipation to the depths of a certain and +most unwelcome gloom; and now, quite suddenly, he found himself involved +in a black and rayless melancholy which seemed to fortell some +catastrophic happening at hand.</p> + +<p>It was with more and more difficulty that he replied to Sir Richard's +hopeful prophecies; and so strong upon him was the premonition of +disaster that when he learned at last that they were within an hour or +two's ride of their destination he spurred on his still willing steed in +a sudden desire to know the worst which was to befall.</p> + +<p>As he stared ahead of him, his eyes beginning to adjust themselves now +to the peculiar conditions of the desert atmosphere, he caught sight of +a speck upon the sand which, unlike the majority of desert objects, the +scanty tamarisk bushes, the low humpbacked hills which here and there +formed an apparently endless chain, appeared to move, to grow almost +imperceptibly larger as the distance between them diminished.</p> + +<p>During their ride over the desert they had met no other human beings. +Once or twice they had seen, to right or left of their track, a +collection of mud huts, overshadowed by the plumy tufts of tall +date-palms, betokening the presence of a handful of <i>fellaheen</i> +scratching a livelihood from the unfriendly sand. Again they had twice +beheld in the far distance a caravan winding its leisurely way upon some +mysterious errand to an unknown destination; but these last had been too +far away for their component parts of horses, camels, merchandise, to be +distinguished; and after a brief glance towards the long snaky lines as +they wound their way through the sand, Sir Richard and Anstice had +wisely refused to strain their eyesight further.</p> + +<p>But this solitary unit on the vast face of the desert was a different +matter; and Anstice gazed steadily ahead in an as yet fruitless attempt +to make out what this thing which appeared to move towards them might +be.</p> + +<p>At first he said nothing, thinking that his eyes might quite conceivably +be playing him tricks, that this apparently moving figure might possibly +be a figment of his brain, or one of those delusive sprites which are +said to haunt the unwary traveller in the desert; but at length, as the +distance between the object and himself diminished more and more +rapidly, until he could have sworn he caught the flutter of a blue robe, +Anstice felt it time to point out the vision or whatever it might be to +his as yet unseeing companion.</p> + +<p>"Sir Richard," he said, so suddenly that Sir Richard, who had been +jogging along sunk in reverie, started in surprise. "Do you see anyone +coming towards us over the sand?"</p> + +<p>Sir Richard, thus appealed to, sat up more erectly in his saddle; and +gazed with his keen old eyes in the direction of Anstice's pointing +hand; and Anstice watched him with an anxiety which was surely out of +place.</p> + +<p>After a moment's fruitless search Sir Richard unslung the field-glasses +which he carried, and applied them to his eyes; and in another moment, +having adjusted the focus, he uttered an exclamation.</p> + +<p>"By Gad, Anstice, you're right! It's a native of sorts, and he is coming +directly towards us. He is too far off for me to distinguish his +features—you look and see what you can make of him."</p> + +<p>He handed the glasses to Anstice, who raised them to his eyes; and after +adjusting the lenses to suit his younger, keener sight, he swept them +round in an attempt to focus the distant object.</p> + +<p>First an apparently illimitable expanse of sky and sand swam slowly into +view, each insignificant landmark in the desert magnified almost +incredibly by the powerful glasses; and at last the blue-robed native +appeared suddenly as though only a stone's throw away from the man who +searched for him.</p> + +<p>The glass revealed him as an Arab of an ordinary type clad in a faded +blue djibbeh, over which he wore the short grey coat so inexplicably +beloved of the native. On his head was a scarlet fez; and his blue robe +was gathered up in such a way as to leave bare his brown and sinewy legs +as he paddled ruthlessly and unhesitatingly over the burning sand.</p> + +<p>As he lowered the glasses Anstice gave a short description of the +advancing native to Sir Richard, adding:</p> + +<p>"He seems to be in something of a hurry—he's covering the ground in a +most energetic fashion—and he really does appear to be making straight +for us!"</p> + +<p>All at once Sir Richard's lately-born optimism fell from him like an +ill-fitting garment. Taking the glasses back he adjusted them once more +with fingers that absolutely trembled; and when after a long and steady +stare he lowered them and turned to his companion his face was very +serious.</p> + +<p>"Anstice, I hope to God I'm mistaken, but that fellow looks uncommonly +like Hassan—and from the haste he's making I should say he had been +sent out to meet us. And that can only mean disaster—either Bruce is +worse, or——" He broke off suddenly, his fine old face suddenly grey.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it won't be so bad as that, sir!" Unconsciously Anstice replied to +the unspoken suggestion. "Possibly your daughter has sent this chap to +relieve your mind—Cheniston may have taken a turn for the better—heaps +of things may have happened."</p> + +<p>"Quite so." Sir Richard was replacing his glasses in their case with +oddly fumbling movements. "But I wish to God we were safely back ... we +can't even see the village for these confounded palm trees!"</p> + +<p>As though the horses understood and sympathized with the mental tension +of their riders they sprang forward with renewed energy; and some hard +riding brought the two men within hailing distance of the approaching +native.</p> + +<p>"It is Hassan all right," said Sir Richard with a rather painful attempt +at composure. "Let us hurry on and find out what is amiss at the +village."</p> + +<p>As the native drew nearer it was easy to see that he was the bearer of +important news. His coffee-coloured face was shining with drops of +perspiration, and his breath came in pitiful gasps as he hurried up to +Sir Richard and began pouring out his story in a flood of mixed Arabic +and English which was quite unintelligible to Anstice.</p> + +<p>"Speak slower, man, slower!" Sir Richard spoke emphatically, and for a +space the native obeyed; but it was evident from the look of mingled +consternation and rage in his hearer's face that the story was one of +dire import.</p> + +<p>When, presently, the Arab ceased, his tongue positively lolling out of +his mouth like that of a thirsty dog, Sir Richard turned to Anstice with +an air of determination.</p> + +<p>"Things have been moving, with a vengeance, in our absence," he said +grimly. "It seems that yesterday morning early young Garnett found a +couple of Bedouins prowling about his place and helping themselves to +his choicest produce; and being a hotheaded young fool he let fly at +them with his revolver, the result being that by a most unlucky chance +he winged one of the rascals and the other assisted him off, vowing +vengeance on the whole little English colony of eight souls. It was not +an empty threat either; for when Hassan, feeling uneasy at the idea of +harm coming to Iris, slunk into the village to find out, if possible, +what mischief was afoot, he ran slick into a conclave of the brutes, and +hiding behind a rock heard their plans."</p> + +<p>"They were pretty deadly, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"They merely embraced the wholesale massacre, under cover of night, of +the English men and women who had been fools enough to trust their good +faith," returned Sir Richard shortly. "Well, Hassan, whose wits are as +sharp as his ears are long, lost no time in going back to his mistress +with the information; and between them they evolved a plan which might, +with the most marvellous luck, be successful."</p> + +<p>"And that plan, sir?" Anstice's tone was tense.</p> + +<p>"Aided by Hassan, at the approach of night the whole little group of +white people crept safely into the Fort of which I told you; and when, a +couple of hours later, the Bedouins came forth intent on reprisals, they +found the houses of the English empty, and realized, too late, that the +Fort was quite a different nut to crack."</p> + +<p>"It is a fairly safe building?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it has certain natural advantages, I grant." Sir Richard spoke +rather dubiously. "We went over it one day, in a spirit of curiosity; +and I have a pretty clear recollection of the place. To begin with, as I +told you the Bedouin encampment is a sort of oasis in a valley at the +foot of some quite respectably high rocks. You know the desert is not, +as some people imagine, merely a flat expanse of sand. Here and there +are ranges of hills, limestone, and so on—and now and then one comes +across quite a chain of rocky places which in another country would be +looked upon as precipices."</p> + +<p>He paused; and Anstice waited eagerly for him to continue.</p> + +<p>"Well, this Fort is, very luckily, built on a plateau overlooking the +valley. On one side the ground slopes gently down to the little colony, +but on the other the Fort overlooks a high precipice of rock which of +course affords no means of transit from the ground below; so that on +that side the place is absolutely impregnable."</p> + +<p>"I see." Anstice's tone held a note of relief. "Well, that sounds fairly +promising—as I suppose it means there are only three sides to defend +instead of four."</p> + +<p>"Well, it is a circular building," Sir Richard explained, "and there are +only slits in the walls on two sides; and also, fortunately for us, only +one means of entrance or exit, in the shape of a massive door which +could hardly be forced without a charge of dynamite. It was the +stronghold, so I gather, of a kind of robber chief in the old days, and +doubtless was built to resist possible assaults from lawless tribesmen. +But there is one weak spot in the building—one or rather two places +which are a decided menace to any defence."</p> + +<p>"And those——"</p> + +<p>"Well, it seems this French artist, Massenet by name, sought and +obtained permission from the authorities who leased him the building to +throw out a couple of windows in the upper floor which enabled him to +convert the place into a very passable studio. He was a rich man—son of +a well-known Paris banker, and the cost did not intimidate him. But the +result is that those two big windows, which only boast the flimsiest of +sand-shutters, are, without a doubt, capable of being made into means of +entry, provided, of course, that the defenders within are short of +ammunition or are unable to construct efficient barricades."</p> + +<p>"I see. I suppose they are a fair height from the ground?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—but there are such things as ladders," said Sir Richard dryly. "Of +course a mere handful of men, given a sufficiency of ammunition, might +keep an attacking party at bay almost indefinitely. But I'm afraid our +supply of munitions is somewhat scanty, and with women—and children—to +defend——" He broke off suddenly as the native began to speak.</p> + +<p>"You go a-back, bring help, bring many gentlemens. Me and the Effendi +take care of ladees ... but you go quick—bring the soldiermans...." He +stopped, as though at the end of his suggestions.</p> + +<p>"Yes." Sir Richard's face lighted up. "I see what he means. Anstice, you +or I must make all speed back to Cairo and fetch out some soldiers. The +barracks swarm with them, and if I know them they'll jump at the chance +of a little scrap like this. With luck you'd be back in three +days—less, if you pushed your horses—and by God I believe we could +hold the Fort till then!"</p> + +<p>As he finished the native nodded his head as though in approval of the +plan; but suddenly his expressive features lengthened, and he said +something in a lower tone to Sir Richard in which the words "<i>El Hakim</i>" +occurred more than once.</p> + +<p>Sir Richard listened restively, and uttered an exclamation of annoyance.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, there's no need to repeat it so often! Anstice, this fellow +points out that after all I had better be the one to go for help, as he +says your aid is urgently required at the Fort. Besides Cheniston, who +seems, from what I can gather, to be in about the same state as before, +Garnett got wounded last night when the besiegers tried to force an +entrance, and I suppose the sooner you get to them the better."</p> + +<p>"Well, there's something in that," conceded Anstice, reluctant to deepen +the disappointment in Sir Richard's face. "You see, sir, the sooner I +fix up Cheniston the better—but why shouldn't this fellow go and fetch +help instead of you?"</p> + +<p>Sir Richard's eyes brightened, but after another colloquy with the Arab +his former air of dejection returned.</p> + +<p>"He says—confound him—that the authorities in Cairo would pay more +attention to me than to him—and I suppose he's not far wrong. Also he +points out that with his knowledge of the land and of the language he +would be of more use to the garrison"—he used the word half +ashamedly—"than I, who know little of either. His plan is for me to +return immediately with all possible speed to fetch help, while you and +he seek, under cover of night, to enter the Fort, a task which I +gather," said Sir Richard grimly, "is not altogether devoid of risk."</p> + +<p>Anstice said nothing, but his mouth was set in a hard line which +betokened ill for anyone who attempted to bar his way into that same +Fort, and with a half-strangled sigh Sir Richard continued his speech.</p> + +<p>"It seems on the whole the best plan, though God knows it's hard to turn +round and leave my only daughter in this damned hole. Still, I see the +logic of the thing, and if you are willing to go forward, why, there's +nothing left for me but to turn back."</p> + +<p>"I'll go forward all right," replied Anstice quietly. "And if you will +trust me, I will do my best to carry on until you arrive with +reinforcements."</p> + +<p>"In that case I'll go at once," said Sir Richard more briskly. "Which is +the better horse? Yours, I think—and if so I'll take it and hurry back +to Cairo. But first let's have a look at the provisions—I'm a tough old +fellow and can do without a lot of stuff, but I daren't risk failing on +the way. Luckily we are lavishly provided."</p> + +<p>Hearing this speech the Arab smiled gleefully and produced from some +mysterious recess in his robe a square package, tied with string, and +handed it, still smiling, to Sir Richard, who took it with a rather +mystified expression.</p> + +<p>"It's food—what you call grub," explained Hassan proudly. "The ladees +make it—say it carry the Effendi back to <i>le Caire</i>"—in common with +many Arabs he gave the city its French name—"and it <i>good</i> grub too!"</p> + +<p>Sir Richard slipped the packet into his pocket with a rather uncertain +smile, and turned to the matter of transit without loss of time.</p> + +<p>Anstice's horse was the fresher of the two, and it was decided that Sir +Richard should start at once, and when at a safe distance dismount and +rest until moonrise, after which the night hours might profitably be +spent in journeying onwards, since night-riding in the desert is +infinitely preferable to riding by day.</p> + +<p>"With luck you should make Cairo very early on the day after to-morrow," +said Anstice, who had been making a calculation. "And if you could get +started again without loss of time you could be here in just under three +days. But that would mean hard riding, I'm afraid——"</p> + +<p>"I'm pretty tough," said Sir Richard again. "And after all you'll have +the harder part. I suppose"—he turned to Hassan—"I suppose there is no +possibility of getting help nearer than Cairo—no village or settlement +to which I might apply?"</p> + +<p>No, Hassan opined, it was of no use seeking help elsewhere. The one or +two native villages within call were quite inadequate to render +assistance, and to apply to them would be a loss of time which would +have no practical result.</p> + +<p>When once Sir Richard was assured of the impossibility of procuring help +nearer than Cairo he wasted no further time in discussion, but mounted +his horse with a businesslike air and proceeded to take leave of Anstice +with a heartiness which but thinly disguised his real and gnawing +anxiety.</p> + +<p>"I will make all possible speed," he said, as he settled himself +sturdily in his saddle. "And with luck three days should see me back. In +the meantime"—for a moment his voice faltered, but he pulled himself +together pluckily—"I leave my girl in your care. And I know"—Sir +Richard spoke very slowly—"I know you will guard her, if need be, with +your life...."</p> + +<p>"Thank you for your trust, Sir Richard." In Anstice's hand-grip Sir +Richard read the measure of his resolve. "I will not fail you—nor your +daughter—so long as I am alive."</p> + +<p>Sir Richard wrung his hand, tried to speak, and failed, utterly, to +articulate a syllable. But the look which the two men exchanged spoke +more eloquently than words, and Sir Richard, as he rode away on his +mission, knew that so far as mortal man might compass success his +daughter's safety was assured at this man's hands.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When Sir Richard had ridden away, sitting squarely in his saddle, with +never a backward look, Anstice turned to Hassan.</p> + +<p>"Now," he said, "how do we proceed? I mean"—he remembered that the man +understood little English—"do we go straight back to the village—and +what do we do with this horse?"</p> + +<p>Hassan's explanation was necessarily somewhat unintelligible, being +couched in a polyglot mixture of French and English, with a few words of +Arabic thrown in, but by dint of patient inquiry Anstice presently made +out the drift of his involved speech. Briefly, his plan was as follows.</p> + +<p>It would be useless, so Hassan asserted, to attempt to return to the +village and enter the Fort until darkness covered the land. The +Bedouins, it seemed, already surrounded the place so that Hassan's +escape had been a matter of some difficulty, and it would be necessary +to proceed cautiously, with careful strategy, in order to re-enter the +place in safety.</p> + +<p>When once it was comparatively dark—if possible before the moon +rose—the attempt must be made; and in the meantime Hassan considered +the wisest thing to do was to shelter somewhere and rest in preparation +for the evening's adventures.</p> + +<p>The horse, he decided, must be turned loose outside the village. The +Bedouins, as he pointed out, would be likely to snap up readily a horse +of such good appearance, and in any case Hassan was plainly of the +opinion that a horse's existence was of very little importance when +graver matters were at stake.</p> + +<p>Although, as an Englishman, Anstice was inclined to rate the horse's +value as a living creature more highly than the Arab was disposed to do, +he saw the reason of the plan, and agreed to follow Hassan's advice in +every particular.</p> + +<p>Having come to this wise resolve, he invited Hassan to choose a place +where the time of waiting might be passed, and the native deciding on a +little sandy hollow between two low, round-backed hills, he proceeded to +ensconce himself more or less comfortably on the loose and drifting +sand, and prepared to endure the waiting-time with what patience he +might.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IIIB" id="CHAPTER_IIIB"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + + +<p>"Dr. Anstice! Is it really—<i>you</i>?"</p> + +<p>Iris stood opposite to him with an expression of wondering surprise in +her wide grey eyes, and as he held her hand in his Anstice noted the +beating of a little blue vein in her temple—a sure sign, with this +girl, of some inward agitation which could not be altogether concealed.</p> + +<p>"Yes. It is really I." Although he spoke calmly he was to the full as +agitated as she, and he could not keep his eager eyes from studying her +face, in which he found a dozen new beauties for which their separation +had not prepared him. She was a little thinner than he remembered her, +but the African sun had kissed her fine skin so warmly that any pallor +which might well distinguish her in these troublous days was effectually +disguised.</p> + +<p>With an effort he relinquished her hand and spoke with well-simulated +indifference.</p> + +<p>"It was by the merest chance that Sir Richard and I met in Port Said," +he said. "I was taking a holiday—the first I've had for years"—he +smiled—"and was only too glad to see a familiar face in a strange +land."</p> + +<p>"And you have given up your holiday to come to our help," she said in a +low voice. "You don't know how thankful I am to see you—but for your +own sake I wish you had not come."</p> + +<p>"That's rather unkind," he said, with a smile. "Here have I been +flattering myself that you would welcome me—well, warmly—and you as +good as tell me I am not wanted!"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I did not mean that." She too smiled, but quickly grew grave +again. "If you only knew <i>how</i> glad I am to see you. We—we are in +rather a bad way here, you know, Dr. Anstice, and—and your help will be +valuable in more ways than one."</p> + +<p>"I hope it may prove so," he said. Anstice and Hassan had made a +perilous, but successful, entry into the little Fort, pursued, it is +true, by a shower of bullets, for the Bedouins were armed with a strange +collection of weapons, ranging from antique long-barrelled guns to +modern rifles. "May I see him at once? The sooner the better, as I am +here at last."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I want you to see him as soon as possible." Iris hesitated, and in +her eyes was the shadow of a haunting dread. "You will find him very +ill, I am afraid. We have done what we could—Mrs. Wood has been +splendid—but he doesn't seem to get any better. Of course in ordinary +circumstances we should not have dared to move him, but we had to do it, +and I am sure it has been very bad for him."</p> + +<p>"Well, we must see what we can do now," said Anstice in as reassuring a +tone as he could muster. "Where is he? On this floor, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Next door. One of the rooms which the artist used is furnished, +more or less, as a bedroom, and it is fairly comfortable. The other +rooms—this and the ones downstairs—are almost empty except for a few +chairs and a kind of bench we use for a table."</p> + +<p>"I see." Anstice looked round the room, noting the rough stone walls, +the ancient, uneven floor, uncovered by so much as a piece of matting; +and then his glance returned to the large modern window which looked so +incongruous in its mediæval setting.</p> + +<p>The room into which a moment later Iris showed him was of the same shape +and size as the one they had just quitted; and boasted the second of the +windows which might, were help too long delayed, prove the undoing of +the little garrison. It was, however, roughly furnished, though it was +evident that the Frenchman, for all his reputed wealth, had been no +Sybarite by inclination. The bed was of a common pattern, and the few +other things scattered about on the scantily matted floor were of the +most primitive description.</p> + +<p>As a room for an invalid the apartment certainly left much to be +desired; but Anstice did not waste time over his surroundings. He moved +quickly towards the bed; and stood looking down upon the man who lay +thereon in silence.</p> + +<p>And as he looked at the wreck of the once gallant Bruce Cheniston, his +heart sank within him; for if ever Death had printed his sign-manual on +a living man's face, it was written here too legibly for even an +untrained eye to miss its significance.</p> + +<p>Cheniston was wasted to a shadow by fever and suffering. From his +haggard face his sunken eyes looked out with an expression of anguish +which was surely mental as well as physical; and though he evidently +recognized his visitor, he was too weak to do more than move one +fleshless hand an inch or two towards Anstice by way of greeting.</p> + +<p>Hiding the shock Cheniston's appearance had given him as well as he +might, Anstice sat down beside the bed and took the painfully thin hand +in his own.</p> + +<p>"Cheniston, I'm sorry to see you in such a bad way." He spoke very +gently, his eyes on the other's face the while. "It was hard luck +falling ill out here—but I've brought up several things from Cairo that +will give you relief in no time."</p> + +<p>Over Cheniston's face flitted the ghost of a smile; and his voice, when +he replied, gave Anstice a fresh shock, so thready and devoid of all +tone was it.</p> + +<p>"Thanks—very much—Anstice." He spoke slowly, with spaces between the +words. "I'm very ill—I know—I think I'm going—to peg out—but I can't +bear—to think—of Iris."</p> + +<p>He stopped, quite exhausted by the effort of speech; and Anstice, more +moved than he cared to show, laid the thin hand back on the bed, and +took his patient's temperature, his heart sinking still lower as he read +the thermometer's unimpeachable testimony.</p> + +<p>Strive as he might, he could not rid himself of a fear that Bruce +Cheniston's earthly race was ran; and catching sight of Iris' face as +she stood on the opposite side of the bed, he felt, with a quick +certainty, that she too realized that only by a miracle could her +husband be restored to the health and vigour to which his young manhood +surely entitled him.</p> + +<p>"Come, Cheniston," he said presently, in answer to Bruce's last words, +"you mustn't talk of pegging out. You have been bad, I can see that, but +you know dozens of travellers in Egypt enjoy a taste of enteric and come +through it as good as new. You got this through drinking polluted water, +I understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." Bruce smiled, haggardly, once more. "Too bad, wasn't it, that +after playing with water ever since I came out here it should turn on me +in the end. Serves me right—for—trusting an Arab—I suppose."</p> + +<p>His voice died weakly away; and Anstice gently bade him keep quiet for a +while.</p> + +<p>"No use talking and exciting yourself," he said, for he could see the +other's stock of strength was lamentably small. "Lie still and allow me +to talk over affairs with Mrs. Cheniston—we will put our heads together +and evolve some plan for your benefit." He hardly knew what he said, so +filled was his heart with a pity in which now there was no faintest +tinge of resentment for the unfair bargain which this man had once +driven with him.</p> + +<p>With a sigh Cheniston closed his eyes, and appeared to relapse once more +into a kind of stupor; and when, in obedience to a silent gesture, Iris +withdrew to the window, Anstice joined her there immediately.</p> + +<p>Such remedies as yet remained to be tried Anstice determined to employ; +but though he told himself fiercely that if mortal man could save Bruce +Cheniston from the grave he should assuredly be saved, he experienced +that hopeless feeling which all who gaze in the very face of death know +only too well; and he did not dare to meet Iris' eyes as he conversed +with her in a carefully-lowered tone.</p> + +<p>"I'll sit up to-night, Mrs. Cheniston, and you must try to get some +sleep. I suppose"—he broke off suddenly, remembering the position in +which they stood—"I suppose some of you watch—for the enemy"—he +laughed with something of an effort—"every night?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I don't think we any of us slept last night," said Iris quietly. +"You see we are so short-handed—only Mr. Wood and Mr. Garnett and +Hassan know anything about fire-arms; and Mrs. Wood and I, and Rosa, +Mrs. Wood's nurse, have been busy looking after Bruce and little Molly +Wood."</p> + +<p>"Of course. Well, I think the first thing to do, after I have given Mr. +Cheniston this"—he had been mixing something in a little glass as he +spoke—"is to meet and hold a council of war, with a view to the most +useful disposition of our forces. After all"—he spoke more lightly, so +keen was his desire to see her look less anxious—"we are not by any +means a force to be despised. We have four able-bodied men among us; and +this place, from what I can gather, looks pretty impregnable, on one +side at least."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Even Mr. Garnett admits that the Bedouins could hardly swarm up +that rocky wall," said Iris, with a slightly more cheerful air. "And of +course, too, we have not got to hold out indefinitely; for if my father +reaches Cairo in good time we may have the relieving force here in less +than three days."</p> + +<p>"Of course we may!" His tone was resolutely optimistic. "Now, as soon as +Mr. Cheniston drinks this we'll set to work."</p> + +<p>He approached the bed, and having with some difficulty roused Cheniston +from his stupor, administered the dose deftly; after which he turned to +Iris once more.</p> + +<p>"You spoke of a nurse just now. Who is she?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she is only a children's nurse, and rather a broken reed at the +best of times," said Iris ruefully. "She had hysterics all last night, +but she's a bit more sensible to-day."</p> + +<p>"Hysterics or no, she can keep watch for half an hour," said Anstice +rather grimly. "Suppose you find her and send her to me. Would you +mind?"</p> + +<p>"I'll go at once." Iris turned towards the door, and Anstice noted with +a pang at his heart that she was certainly thinner and moved with less +buoyancy than of old. "You—you won't be too severe with her, Dr. +Anstice? After all, she is only a young girl, and she has gone through +quite a lot since yesterday morning!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I won't bite her head off," said Anstice, with a short laugh of +genuine amusement. "But we have no use for hysterical young women here; +and no doubt when she understands that she will amend her ways."</p> + +<p>"Very well. I will go and find her." With a last look towards the bed +Iris vanished; and for a brief moment Anstice was left alone, to wonder +at the strange and unexpected situation in which he now found himself, +shut up in this lonely building in the heart of the desert with a +handful of souls for whose safety he could not but feel himself largely +responsible.</p> + +<p>He did not attempt to disguise from himself that the outlook was +decidedly unpromising. Even though Sir Richard reached Cairo without +mishap, some time must necessarily elapse before he could gather +together what Iris had called the relieving force; and although Anstice +had no reason to doubt the staunchness and courage of his +fellow-defenders, he could not fail to realize that as a fighting unit +they were altogether outmatched by the two or three score of enemies who +were by now, apparently, thirsting savagely for their blood.</p> + +<p>Then, too, the shadow of death already hovered over the little garrison; +and as Anstice turned once more to survey the pale and wasted features +of the man who had supplanted him in the one supreme desire of his life, +he told himself that it would be a miracle if Bruce Cheniston lived long +enough to see the arrival of the help on which so much depended.</p> + +<p>"If I had got here a week—three days ago, I might have done something," +he told himself rather hopelessly. "But now I'm very much afraid it is +too late. He is going to die, I'm pretty sure of that, though I hope to +God I may be mistaken; and heaven only knows what will happen in the +course of the next three days."</p> + +<p>As he reached this point in his meditations a voice in his ear made him +start; and turning, he beheld a pale and distraught-looking young woman +who might in happier circumstances have laid claim to a certain +uninspired prettiness. At this moment, however, her eyes red-rimmed with +lack of sleep, her ashy-coloured hair limp and dishevelled round her +unintellectual forehead, she was rather a piteous object; and in spite +of his resolve to speak bracingly to her Anstice's voice was quite +gentle as he replied to her murmured question.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am Dr. Anstice, and I want you to be good enough to sit here and +look after Mr. Cheniston while I talk over matters with the other +gentlemen."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir." She cast a swift look at the bed, and then hastily averted +her pale-brown eyes. "Mr. Cheniston—he—he won't die, will he, sir? I +mean, not immediate, like?"</p> + +<p>"No, he will not die immediately," said Anstice reassuringly. "All you +have to do is to sit here, beside the bed"—he had noticed how she kept +her distance from the aforesaid bed, and placed her in the chair he had +vacated with a firm pressure there was no resisting—"and watch Mr. +Cheniston carefully. If he shows signs of waking come for me. But don't +disturb him in any way. You understand?"</p> + +<p>The girl said, rather whimperingly, that she did; and with a last glance +at Cheniston, who still lay sunk in a dreary stupor, Anstice went +quietly from the room in search of his comrades in misfortune.</p> + +<p>He found them in the room in which he had first seen Iris; and he joined +the conclave without loss of time.</p> + +<p>"Oh, here you are!" Iris broke off in the middle of a sentence and came +forward. "Mrs. Wood, this is Dr. Anstice; and this"—she turned to a +tall, clean-shaven man dressed, rather unconventionally, in the clothes +of a clergyman—"is Mr. Wood. Here is Mr. Garnett, and that is all, with +the exception of Molly."</p> + +<p>She drew forward a child of about Cherry Carstairs' age, a pale, fragile +child in whose face Anstice read plainly the querulousness of an +inherited delicacy of constitution.</p> + +<p>"She ought really to be asleep," said Mrs. Wood, a short, rather +good-looking woman of a florid type, whose subdued voice and air were at +variance with the cheerful outline of her features. "But somehow night +and day have got mixed up at present—in fact, my watch has stopped, and +I don't know what time it is."</p> + +<p>"It is just ten o'clock, Mrs. Wood." It was Roger Garnett who +volunteered the information; and as Anstice turned to discover what +manner of man the speaker might be he was relieved to find that the +young Australian wore an unmistakably militant air. He was of average +height, with powerful shoulders; and in his blue eyes burned a lust for +battle which was in no way diminished by the fact that his left arm was +bound up just below the elbow.</p> + +<p>"Brute dotted me one there," he explained casually as he saw Anstice's +glance fall on the bandage. "Thought at first he'd broken a bone, but he +hadn't. It was only a flesh wound, and Mrs. Wood did it up in the most +approved St. John style!"</p> + +<p>"I'll look at it for you presently, if you like," said Anstice, "though +it appears to be most scientifically bandaged. Now, what I should like +to know is this. Did these fellows attack you last night? They did? At +what time—and in what force did they come?"</p> + +<p>"It was just before dawn—the recognized time for a night attack, eh?" +Garnett's blue eyes twinkled. "They thought it was going to be a soft +job, I believe; but they had apparently forgotten that the door was +pretty well impregnable, thanks to the jolly old bandit, or whatever he +was, who used to retire here with his doubtless ill-gotten gains! And as +they had forgotten to provide themselves with any means of reaching +these windows the attack failed, so to speak."</p> + +<p>"I gather you were looking out? Any casualties?" Anstice put the +question coolly; and young Garnett grinned.</p> + +<p>"Yes, siree—one for which by the grace of God I may consider myself +responsible. They were all arguing in the courtyard below when I gave +them a kind of salute from up here, and by gosh, you should have seen +the beggars scatter! One of them got it in the thigh, at least so I +deduce from the fact that he had to be assisted away, groaning!"</p> + +<p>"They didn't return?"</p> + +<p>"No. Clambered over the wall and made tracks for home, sweet home +instanter."</p> + +<p>"To tell you the truth, Dr. Anstice"—it was Mr. Wood who spoke, and +Anstice turned quickly towards him—"I do not myself believe that they +will attack us again at present. They have now found it impossible to +force an entrance unseen; and I should not be surprised if their plan of +campaign included waiting, and trying to starve us out. A policy of +masterly inaction, so to speak."</p> + +<p>"Do you know, I rather agree with the Padre," said Garnett thoughtfully. +"Of course they have not a notion that we have sent for help; and though +they saw Dr. Anstice arrive with Hassan, it is quite possible that in +the dusk they thought it was one of us who had made a futile sortie with +the Arab."</p> + +<p>"I daresay you are right," said Anstice thoughtfully. "But I suppose you +do not propose we should relax our vigilance on that account?"</p> + +<p>"No." Mr. Wood looked keenly at the speaker, and appeared reassured by +something he read in the other's face. "Last night we watched both this +window and that of the other room—the one where Mr. Cheniston is +lying——"</p> + +<p>"It is unfortunate that he should be in one of the rooms where there is +a possibility of trouble," said Anstice, rather worried by the notion. +"I suppose the others are really uninhabitable?"</p> + +<p>"Well, there is no possibility of admitting sufficient air," said Mrs. +Wood practically. "There is a little hole where we snatch a moment's +rest now and then, but for a man with fever——"</p> + +<p>"No, I suppose he must stay where he is." Anstice genuinely regretted +the necessity. "The only thing to do is to try to draw the enemy's fire +to the other window, if occasion arises. Now, how do we divide our +forces? Mrs. Cheniston"—he spoke the name firmly now—"you, I suppose, +will watch your husband, and if I may suggest that I take the window in +that room under my charge—Hassan might be at hand to take my place when +I'm occupied with Mr. Cheniston——"</p> + +<p>"Then Mr. Garnett and I will be responsible for the watch in this room," +said the clergyman quietly. "The others—my wife and Rosa—can take it +in turn to relieve Mrs. Cheniston. How does that plan strike you, Dr. +Anstice?" By common consent they began to look on Anstice as their +leader.</p> + +<p>"A very sensible plan," said Mrs. Wood quickly, "But I positively insist +upon Mrs. Cheniston having some sleep. She was up all night and has not +rested a moment to-day."</p> + +<p>"What about me, Mummy?" A rather fretful little voice interrupted the +speaker, as Molly pressed closely to her side. "What's me and Rosa going +to do? There isn't any beds and the bench is so hard!"</p> + +<p>"Poor kiddie!" Anstice's heart was touched by this lamentable wail. +"Suppose you let me see what I can do to make you a bed, Molly! I'm a +doctor, you know, and doctors know more about making beds than ordinary +people!"</p> + +<p>The child regarded him with lack-lustre eyes which were quite devoid of +any childish gaiety; and for a moment she appeared to revolve the +question in her mind. Finally she decided that he was to be trusted, for +she nodded her weary little head and put her thin, hot hand into the one +he extended to her.</p> + +<p>"The room opposite to this is our bedroom," said Iris, with a faint +smile. "Shall I come too, Molly, and show Dr. Anstice where to find the +things?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. You come too." The other moist hand sought Iris' cooler one; and +between them they led the poor child into the room Iris indicated.</p> + +<p>Here, with a little ingenuity, a bed was made up of chairs and cushions, +which Molly was too worn out to resist; and having seen her sink at once +into an uneasy slumber, the two returned to the larger room, where the +others still held whispered conclave.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice"—Iris laid her hand on his arm, her voice full of the +sweetest contrition—"you have had nothing to eat and you must be +famished."</p> + +<p>"I'm not hungry," he assured her truthfully; but she refused to listen +to his protests; and calling Mrs. Wood to her assistance she soon had a +meal ready for him. Although the resources of the establishment were +limited to tinned food and coffee boiled over a little spirit stove, +Anstice was in no mood to criticize anything which Iris set before him. +Indeed he could hardly take his eyes from her as she ministered to him; +and the food he ate might have been manna for anything he knew to the +contrary.</p> + +<p>Having finished his hasty meal and assured his kind hostesses that he +felt a hundred per cent better thereby, Anstice turned to Mr. Wood with +a new seriousness.</p> + +<p>"It is nearly eleven o'clock," he said, "and I suppose we should be +thinking of taking up our positions? If you and Mr. Garnett are ready, +I'll call Hassan to take charge of the other window for a little while, +and have a look at my patient yonder."</p> + +<p>The other men agreed; and Anstice left them stationing themselves at +their posts while he entered the next room and relieved the frightened +Rosa from her task of watching the invalid.</p> + +<p>As he approached Cheniston's side he saw that as yet no fatal change had +occurred. Bruce still lay in a kind of stupor, half-sleep, +half-unconsciousness; but his pulse was not perceptibly weaker, and for +a wild moment Anstice considered the possibility of his patient's +recovery—a possibility which, however, he dared hardly entertain as he +looked at the haggard face, the sunken eyes, the peeling lips.</p> + +<p>When Iris entered a minute or two later Anstice gave her a few +directions, bidding her call him immediately should Bruce awaken; and as +she acquiesced and sat down on the hard chair lately vacated by the +maid, Anstice looked at her with a feeling of rather helpless +compassion.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Cheniston, I'm so awfully sorry to have to ask you to sit up. +You're worn out, I know, and I wish you could get some sleep."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't bother about me!" She smiled up at him, and his heart +contracted within him at the look of fatigue in her face. "I'm immensely +strong, you know—and I can sleep to-morrow. Only"—the smile faded out +of her eyes, leaving them very sad—"do you think there is any +possibility of Bruce being better in the morning?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—he is no worse than when I saw him an hour or two ago," Anstice +assured her. "And in a bad case like this even a negative boon of that +kind is something to be thankful for."</p> + +<p>She looked at him again, rather wistfully this time; but he did not meet +her eyes; and presently he withdrew, leaving her to her lonely watch; +while he went to take up his vigil at the window in preparation for any +possible attack.</p> + +<p>But that night passed without adventure of any kind.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IVB" id="CHAPTER_IVB"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + + +<p>It was on the afternoon of the following day that a new and serious +complication arose.</p> + +<p>The night had passed without incident of any kind; and shortly after +sunrise the little party met to compare notes of their respective +vigils.</p> + +<p>All through the night Anstice had come and gone by Cheniston's bedside; +but although there was no improvement in his patient's condition, +neither did he seem to have progressed any further into the grim Valley +of the Shadow; and although this extreme weakness and prostration were +ominous enough, Anstice still cherished that very faint, very timid hope +which had been born on the previous night.</p> + +<p>He had never wished so fervently for the power to save a life as in this +particular case. Gone was all remembrance of the former ill-feeling +between them, of the unfair and cruel bargain which this man had forced +upon him to the utter destruction of his life's happiness. He forgot +that Bruce Cheniston had been unjust, callous, a very Shylock in his +eager grasping of his pound of flesh; and he remembered only that this +man had won Iris' love, and thereby established his claim to any service +which the man who had also loved Iris might reasonably bestow.</p> + +<p>The fact that Iris must needs be adversely affected by her husband's +death was sufficient in itself to rouse his wish to save Cheniston's +life if that life could be saved; and during the day, when the vigil of +the little garrison might be relaxed, he was assiduous in his care of +the man who lay so desperately ill in the quiet room overlooking the +sun-baked desert.</p> + +<p>Only once Cheniston roused himself sufficiently to hold a few minutes' +laboured conversation with Anstice; and afterwards the latter was not +perfectly certain of Bruce's complete understanding of the words he +used.</p> + +<p>"Iris—how is she?" His voice was so weak that Anstice could barely hear +it; but he guessed what it was that the other man wished to ask; and +answered at once:</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Cheniston is quite well—only a little tired. She is lying down +for an hour, but if you want her I'll go and call her."</p> + +<p>"No. Don't disturb her," said Bruce feebly; and then, after a pause, he +uttered the words which, later, seemed to Anstice a reflection on his +perfect mental poise at the moment. "Poor little Iris—it wasn't fair to +marry her—I wish to God I'd left her—to you."</p> + +<p>For a minute Anstice sat silent, absolutely stunned by this +extraordinary statement; and before he could speak the weak voice began +again.</p> + +<p>"You loved her—so did I—in a way—but I've never really loved +anyone—but—Hilda Ryder." The unconscious pathos in his tone robbed the +words of all offence. "But she's a dear little soul—Iris—and I only +wish I'd not been beast enough—to marry her—to spite you——" The thin +voice trailed away into a whisper and Anstice spoke resolutely.</p> + +<p>"See here, Cheniston, you're ill and you don't know what you're saying. +Don't talk any more, there's a good chap. You only tire yourself out to +no purpose."</p> + +<p>But with the perversity of fever Cheniston would not be gainsaid.</p> + +<p>"I'm all—right." His hollow voice and laboured breath gave the lie to +his assertion. "But—if I die—and the rest of you get out +alive—you—you'll look after Iris, won't you? I wish you'd—marry +her—you'd be good to her—and she would soon—be fond—of you——"</p> + +<p>Somehow Anstice could bear no more. With a hasty movement he sprang up, +and in his voice was a decision against which Cheniston in his weakness +could not hope to prevail.</p> + +<p>"See here, Cheniston, you've just got to lie still and keep quiet. You +know"—his manner softened—"you're really not fit to talk. Do try to +get a little sleep—you'll feel so much stronger if you do."</p> + +<p>"I feel—very weak." He spoke with an evident effort, and Anstice +repented him of his vehemence. With a gentleness Iris herself could not +have surpassed he did all in his power to make Cheniston as easy as +possible; and when, presently, the latter relapsed into the stupor which +passed with him for sleep, Anstice left him, to go in search of Mrs. +Wood, who had promised to take charge of him for an hour or two.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later he encountered Garnett, walking moodily along the +uneven passage-way; and a new seriousness in the Australian's expressive +face gave Anstice pause.</p> + +<p>"What's up, eh? You look mighty solemn all of a sudden!"</p> + +<p>"I feel it, too." The younger man turned round and his eyes looked grim. +"Do you know what those damned Bedouins have been up to now? I believe, +and so does Hassan, that they've been poisoning the well out there"—he +pointed through the slit in the wall to the courtyard beneath—"and if +so we've not got a drop of water we can drink."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it." Honestly he did not. Although he had no cause to +love the Oriental race he was loth to believe even an uncivilized foe +capable of such barbarity.</p> + +<p>"As sure as God made little apples, it's true." Garnett was in no wise +offended by Anstice's uncompromising rejoinder. "Hassan and I both +thought we saw a fellow sneaking in the courtyard last night—just +before dawn—when it was too mighty dark to see much; but as he sheered +off we didn't give the alarm. But it seems Hassan is pretty well +acquainted with their charming tricks, and he was suspicious from the +first."</p> + +<p>"But was this beggar prowling round by the well?"</p> + +<p>"We couldn't see much, but this morning Hassan investigated and found +footmarks on the sand leading directly to and from the well; and he is +convinced that is what the brute was doing."</p> + +<p>"How much water have we left?"</p> + +<p>"Well, that's the very devil of it," said Garnett ruefully "It seems we +had a fair quantity—you know it all has to be brought from that same +old well—but that silly little Rosa thought this morning that she'd +like a bath, so without asking permission she tipped it all into a kind +of tin tub there was on the premises and performed her ablutions +therein."</p> + +<p>"Well, I confess I don't blame her," said Anstice rather dryly. "I feel +as if I'd give a fiver for a bath myself—this damned sand makes one so +infernally gritty."</p> + +<p>"Just so—and the tin basin we wash in—in turns—isn't exactly +luxurious!" Garnett's eyes twinkled. "All the same, things look pretty +serious on the water question. We must have water—unfortunately the +desert thirst is no fancy picture—I'm like a lime-kiln myself at this +moment—but if the well is poisoned, and Hassan seems convinced it is, +we can't drink the water, can we?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not." Anstice hoped his voice did not betray his dismay at +this disclosure. "Where's the nearest well—outside of here?"</p> + +<p>"Over in the village—or rather, there's one outside the village which +would be less public." Garnett laughed a little. "But I don't quite see +how we're going to fetch water from it. You know the beggars are keeping +a pretty smart lookout—and if they caught sight of one of us sallying +forth we'd be potted as sure as a gun. And every available man is wanted +here."</p> + +<p>"I suppose"—Anstice had been thinking—"I suppose it would be quite +impossible to get out by the rocky side? I mean could one possibly climb +down? The Bedouins don't seem to guard that side, and one would be in +the desert, well away from their band."</p> + +<p>"Yes—but I doubt if it would be feasible. Unless—what about a rope? I +saw a great coil of rope in one of the dungeons downstairs this +morning." A new alertness leaped into his bright eyes. "I say, let's go +and reconnoitre, shall we? It would be great to outwit the beasts after +all!"</p> + +<p>"Right! Where shall we go and scout?"</p> + +<p>"Place opposite—the only one with a decent-sized hole in the wall—have +to find a place one could squeeze through, I suppose—and I'm such an +infernally broad chap, too!"</p> + +<p>Anstice laughed.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm pretty long," he said, still smiling. "Lead on, will you—oh, +this is the place, is it?"</p> + +<p>They had entered a small circular chamber which had evidently been used +for the purpose of scanning the desert far below in search of possible +foes; for the aperture in the wall which corresponded to a modern window +was much larger than any of the other slits in the building; and Anstice +and the Australian were able, by a little man[oe]uvring, to lean out +side by side and view the prospect beneath.</p> + +<p>"Pretty fair drop, eh?" From his tone Garnett was in no wise daunted by +the sight.</p> + +<p>"Yes—want a steady head. But it could be done," said Anstice +judicially. "A long rope—a precious long one, too—fastened to +something up here, and one could clamber down all right. And once down +it should be easy to skirt round to the well you mentioned. That's +settled, then, and since you're disabled"—he glanced at the other's +bandaged arm—"this is going to be my job."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say, that's not fair!" The other's tone of indignation amused +Anstice even at that critical moment. "It was my suggestion, wasn't it? +Oh, I believe you did say something about it too ... but I think I ought +to be the one to go."</p> + +<p>"But your arm——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, damn my arm!" Garnett spoke vehemently. "It won't hurt it a +scrap—and honestly, I'd simply <i>love</i> the job!"</p> + +<p>"I know you would—but really you'll have to let me do it." Anstice +spoke firmly, though he was sorry for the other man's disappointment. +"You see that arm of yours is badly hurt, though you won't own up to it; +and it might easily go back on you when you started using it. And if you +got stuck down there, we'd have no water, and be a man short here as +well."</p> + +<p>For another minute the Australian held out, arguing the point with a +kind of fiery eloquence which showed how keenly he desired to undertake +the adventure; but in the end he gave way, though he was too +unsophisticated entirely to hide his chagrin.</p> + +<p>"Then that's settled." Anstice dared not betray his sympathy any +further. "Now it remains to settle the details; and by the way, wouldn't +it be wise to keep it as quiet as possible? We don't want to alarm the +women."</p> + +<p>"Quite so." Garnett squared his shoulders and plunged pluckily into the +discussion. "I should suggest you go fairly early, as soon as the moon's +up—so that with luck you'd be back before the enemy start prowling +round. The well is a mile away, in a westerly direction." He pointed +as he spoke. "And there is not much cover when once you get fairly +out ... though I don't think there is a very great risk of the brutes +spotting you."</p> + +<p>"How long should it take me to get there and back?"</p> + +<p>"Well, walking over sand is not like walking on macadam," said Garnett +practically, "and I don't suppose you could do the job under an hour or +two. Besides, you may have to dodge the brutes now and then," he added +regretfully; and again Anstice could not refrain from smiling.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's settled, then. The moon rises about seven, doesn't it? And +if I get off soon after that——"</p> + +<p>"That would do tophole. And we can easily spin a yarn to the rest," said +Garnett more cheerfully. "In the meantime let's go and get something to +eat. I'm famished."</p> + +<p>The suggestion meeting with Anstice's approval they adjourned in search +of food; and found Iris coming to look for them with tidings of a meal. +When they had taken their seats at the improvised table, Iris quietly +withdrew; and Anstice guessed she had returned to her place by the side +of her husband—a place she had relinquished for an hour only during the +whole of the strenuous day.</p> + +<p>When, a little later, he went to see Cheniston again, he was dismayed to +find an ominous change in his patient.</p> + +<p>Bruce had indeed the air of a man at the point of death; and as he +looked at the wasted features, the sunken eyes, the grey shadows which +lay over the whole face, transforming it into a mere mask, Anstice told +himself bitterly that all his care had been in vain; that before morning +broke there would be one soul the less in their pitiful little company.</p> + +<p>He bent over the bed and spoke gently; but Cheniston was too ill to pay +any heed; and with a sigh Anstice stood upright and turned to Iris +rather helplessly.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Cheniston"—he forced himself to speak truthfully—"I am afraid +your husband is no better. In fact"—he hesitated, hardly knowing how to +put his fears into words—"I think—perhaps—you must be prepared for +the worst."</p> + +<p>"You mean he will die?" She spoke steadily, though her eyes looked +suddenly afraid. "Dr. Anstice, is there no hope? Can <i>you</i> do nothing +more for him?"</p> + +<p>"There is so little to be done," he said. "Believe me, I have tried +every means in my power, but you know my resources here are so limited, +and in those surroundings—if I had been here a week earlier, I might +have done something; but as things are——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know—I know you have done all you could!" She feared her words +had sounded ungracious. "Only—Bruce is so young—he has never been ill +before——"</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, but everything has been against him—the climate for one +thing—and of course the forced removal was about the last thing he +should have had to endure." Anstice longed to comfort her as she stood +before him, looking oddly young and wistful in her distress, but honesty +forbade him to utter words of hope, knowing as he did what might well +take place during the coming night.</p> + +<p>"You think he will die—to-night?" Her eyes, tearless as they were, +demanded the truth; and after a secondary hesitation Anstice replied +candidly:</p> + +<p>"I am very much afraid he may." He turned aside when he had spoken, that +he might not see her face; and for a long moment there was a silence +between them which Anstice, for one, could not have broken.</p> + +<p>Then Iris sighed very faintly.</p> + +<p>"If that is so, you—you won't leave us, will you? I think—I could bear +it better if you were here."</p> + +<p>Anstice's vehement promise to stay with her was suddenly cut short as he +remembered the venture which was planned for the early hours of the +coming night; and Iris' quick wits showed her that some project was +afoot which would prevent him comforting her by his constant presence. +Yet so sore was her need of him, so ardently did she desire the solace +which he alone could bring her, that she was moved to a wistful entreaty +that was strangely unlike herself.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice, you—you will stay? If—if anything happens to Bruce, I +shall be so—so lonely——"</p> + +<p>Never had Anstice so rebelled against the fate which had given her to +another man as in this moment when she stood before him, her face pale +with dread, her wide eyes filled with something not unlike absolute +terror as she faced the coming shadow which was to engulf her life. He +would have given the world to have the right to take her in his arms, to +kiss the colour back to those white cheeks, the security to the +quivering mouth. This was the first favour she had ever asked at his +hands, the first time she had thrown herself, as it were, on his mercy; +and he must refuse her even the meagre boon she asked of him.</p> + +<p>But Anstice was only mortal; and he could not refuse without giving her +the true reason of his refusal, although he and Garnett had agreed that +the undertaking of the night should be kept a secret lest the rest of +the little party be rendered nervous and uncomfortable by his absence. +The feelings of the other women were nothing to him, compared with those +of the girl he still loved with all the strength of his soul and heart; +and he could not have borne to let her think him callous, regardless of +her fears, content to leave her to pass through what must be one of the +darkest hours of her life alone.</p> + +<p>Very gently he told her of the discovery Garnett and Hassan had made; +with the subsequent unhappy certainty of a water famine; and Iris had +been in Egypt long enough to know that in this desert waste of sun and +sand the lack of water and its attendant evil, thirst, were the most +fruitful sources of tragedy in the Egyptian land.</p> + +<p>"You mean there is no water left?" She spoke very quietly, and he +answered her in the same tone.</p> + +<p>"No—at least barely a bottleful. The rest was used for making coffee +for us all just now. And this remaining drop must be reserved for your +husband, in case he calls for it. Besides, there is to-morrow——" He +stopped short, with a tragic foreboding that there would be no morrow on +earth for the man who lay dying beneath their eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yes. As you say, there is to-morrow. And"—her voice was low—"I +suppose there is no hope of rescue before to-morrow night at earliest?"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid not before the following dawn." Somehow he could not lie to +Iris. "And since we must have water it is plain one of us must go and +get it."</p> + +<p>"Go? Outside the Fort?" Her face blanched still further. "But it—would +be madness to venture out—you would be seen—and shot—at once...."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but you haven't heard the plan Garnett and I have evolved!" He +spoke more lightly, though his voice was still low. "Listen, and tell me +if you approve of our strategy!"</p> + +<p>He rapidly outlined their plan of campaign, making as light of the +perils of the undertaking as possible; and Iris listened breathlessly, +her eyes on his face the while.</p> + +<p>When he had finished she spoke very quietly.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice, I think it is a terribly reckless thing to attempt, and if +I thought only of myself—or of you—I should beg you not to go. But as +you say, there are the others—the child for one—and if help should be +delayed the lack of water would be—serious."</p> + +<p>"So you approve the plan?" He felt unreasonably glad that she did not +altogether condemn the idea, since, as go he must, he would certainly go +more happily with her approval.</p> + +<p>"I shall be terribly anxious all the while," she said simply, "but you +are a brave man. Dr. Anstice, and I do not believe God will let you +suffer for your courage."</p> + +<p>"Then I am to go? You will not mind being left alone?"</p> + +<p>"No. I think—perhaps—I shall be a little—afraid—if Bruce dies while +you are gone"—a shiver passed through her as she spoke the fatal +words—"but I will try to be brave."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Wood will come and sit here with you," said Anstice quickly; but +Iris shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No, she is asleep just now, and I won't awaken her. You know she has +been so anxious about poor little Molly to-day." The child had indeed +been feverish and ailing of late. "But after all, we may be alarming +ourselves unnecessarily, mayn't we? You—you're not <i>certain</i> that Bruce +will die?"</p> + +<p>And because he could not bear to see the terror in her face, hear the +quiver of dread in her voice, Anstice lied at last.</p> + +<p>"No—I may be wrong after all," he said. "In any case I am not going +yet. I will stay here till the last possible moment. Look—his eyes are +open—come and sit here, where he can see you without moving his head."</p> + +<p>And as she obeyed without a word Anstice took up his own position +opposite to her where he could watch every change in the grey face of +the man who had once been his enemy, but was now only a fellow-creature +in the grip of the mightiest enemy of all.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was nearly ten o'clock before Anstice started on his perilous +adventure.</p> + +<p>Shortly before the time fixed for his departure little Molly Wood had +been taken alarmingly ill, with severe pains in her head and a high +temperature, and Anstice had spent an anxious hour beside her improvised +bed before he had the satisfaction of seeing her sink into a quiet sleep +beneath the remedies he employed, and when, leaving the distracted +mother to watch her slumbers, he had crept into Cheniston's room, he had +found Bruce still desperately ill, and Iris paler and yet more wan +beneath the stress of the position in which she found herself.</p> + +<p>It was only the imperative need of water which nerved Anstice to leave +her alone, but he knew perfectly well that it would be impossible to +procure any water in daylight, and though Mr. Wood would certainly have +volunteered to make the attempt in his place, had he known the +circumstances, Anstice had discovered, by a casual word let drop by his +wife, that the clergyman suffered from a long-standing weakness of the +heart which would have prevented him carrying through the project +successfully.</p> + +<p>Plainly he must be the one to go, for Hassan, whom they had been forced, +through stress of circumstance, to take into their confidence, had +absolutely refused to brave the perils of the journey and the dangling +rope, and since he must be back at his post as soon after midnight as +possible, Anstice steeled his heart and bade Iris good-bye with a +stoical calm which did not deceive her in the least.</p> + +<p>"Keep up your courage, Mrs. Cheniston." He laid his hand gently on her +arm. "I'll be back in an hour or so—and in the meantime, if there +should be any change, you will do exactly as I have told you." He had +already given her full directions. "Remember, no one but Mr. Garnett and +Hassan knows of my absence, so don't be surprised if I'm supposed to be +asleep somewhere."</p> + +<p>"No. But"—she put her own right hand over his as he gently clasped her +arm—"you're sure there is no one but you to go? Is Mr. Wood too old?"</p> + +<p>"No—but his heart is affected, and the climb would be dangerous. And +Hassan, though he's behaved like a brick up to now, funks the climb." +His tone was good-naturedly contemptuous. "As for Garnett, he's longing +to go—can't quite forgive me for shoving him out—but his arm won't +stand it; so plainly I am the one to go."</p> + +<p>"Then go—and God be with you," she said very gently, and in her eyes +Anstice saw once again the look of mingled strength and tenderness whose +possibility he had divined long ago on the occasion of their first +meeting on that sunlit morning on the steps of Cherry Orchard.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>And with the words ringing in his ears he set forth upon his quest.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VB" id="CHAPTER_VB"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + + +<p>It was a perfect moonlight night, and as he swung himself out over the +rocky precipice, which was surely more formidable at close quarters than +it had appeared from above, Anstice was conscious of a sudden wild +exhilaration which sent the blood coursing like quicksilver through his +veins.</p> + +<p>He knew very well that he was embarking upon a perilous adventure which +might easily end in disaster, for he had no delusions on the subject of +his probable fate did he fall into the hands of the vengeful Bedouins. +But somehow, as he swung between earth and heaven, the rope slipping +with almost uncomfortable rapidity through his fingers, he felt no fear, +only a joyous thrill which strongly resembled the boyish glee with +which, in his school-days, he had taken part in many midnight adventures +strictly hidden from the notice of the authorities.</p> + +<p>His former proficiency in gymnastics and his natural love of climbing +stood him in good stead. He had never been addicted to nerves, had never +known what it was to experience any vertigo or attacks of giddiness when +exploring some dizzy height or negotiating some mountain ledge, and he +swung down the rope which was his only support as coolly as though he +were practising in a gymnasium, with no risk, did he fall, of being +dashed to death against the unfriendly rocks below.</p> + +<p>In an incredibly short space of time he reached the ground, and after +giving three gentle tugs upon the rope—the preconceived signal that all +was well with him—he looked cautiously round him to take his bearings +before proceeding on his journey.</p> + +<p>He stood now in a kind of rocky valley, ringed round with caves—whether +tombs or not he could not pretend to judge—but beyond the valley lay +the desert over which he must pass, and he lost no time in clambering +over the rooks and setting foot on the firm brown sand without.</p> + +<p>By the aid of his small compass he located the direction in which the +well lay, and then, restoring it to his pocket and making certain that +the goat-skin water-bottle was firmly slung over his shoulder, he set +off at a brisk pace which should, if possible, shorten the time of his +absence from the Fort by a few precious moments at least.</p> + +<p>He had never before been alone in the desert at night, and the +strangeness of it gripped him by the throat as he strode steadily +onwards. He could not believe, at first, that he was really alone. It +seemed incredible that in all that huge expanse of sand he should be the +only moving, living being, yet, though he knew that there <i>were</i> living +creatures in the desert—jackals and other prowling things, and a whole +host of bats and tiny insects—they gave no sign of their presence, and +it seemed to him that he was the only live thing in a dead world....</p> + +<p>Yet the air, as it blew gently round him, was soft and sweet. A group of +palm trees rustled deliciously as he passed by; and above his head the +big silver stars seemed to look down on him with a friendly, benignant +gaze as though they knew and approved the errand which brought him out +there, alone in the moonlit desert.</p> + +<p>When once he had conquered the instinctive feeling of something like +nervousness which made him look now and again half fearfully over his +shoulder as he walked, he began to enjoy this uncommon pilgrimage.</p> + +<p>His spirits rose, he felt a wild inclination to sing and shout with +glee—an inclination hastily checked by the remembrance that after all +the Bedouin village was not far away, though hidden for the moment by +the merciful palm trees—and he told himself exultantly that the +devilish revenge of the Bedouins who had poisoned the well in the +courtyard of the Fort was only an empty menace after all.</p> + +<p>Only when he thought of Bruce Cheniston, dying in that barely-furnished +room, far away from any of the luxuries and ease-bringing contrivances +with which civilization smooths the path of her children to the grave, +did his leaping exultation die down in his heart, and he walked more +soberly as he told himself that it was probable he would not see Bruce +Cheniston alive again.</p> + +<p>It was in the moment in which he realized this fact that another thought +struck Anstice for the first time, and the sheer blinding radiance of +that thought made him catch his breath and stand still in the desert, +absolutely oblivious to any risks which he might run from Bedouins or +other prowling marauders were he to be observed.</p> + +<p>He had suddenly realized that were Cheniston to die Iris would once more +be free—free to marry another man did she so desire; and the very idea +of that freedom set his heart knocking against his ribs in a positive +fury of wild and tumultuous feeling.</p> + +<p>Never—he was thankful to remember it now—never had the thought so much +as crossed his mind as he ministered to Cheniston, doing all in his +power to defeat the grim foe who held the young man so firmly in his +clutches. He had spared no pains, had given himself up body and soul to +the task of saving Bruce Cheniston's life, were it possible for that +life to be saved, and he was glad to know, looking back, that he had +never for one second contemplated the possibility of any benefit +accruing to himself through the other man's death. Even should he find, +on his return, that Cheniston had indeed slipped into another world +during his absence, he could always assure himself that he had not +sullied the last strenuous hours in which he had fought for his +patient's life with all his might by so much as one underhand or +dishonourable thought.</p> + +<p>And then, by a natural corollary, his thoughts reverted to Hilda Ryder; +and for the first time since her death he began to feel that now, after +all these years, he might surely be considered to have atoned for his +too hasty carrying-out of the promise he had made her in that +rose-coloured dawn of a bygone Indian morning.</p> + +<p>Never had man regretted an impulsive deed more than he had regretted the +thing which had been done that day. The years which had elapsed since +then had been indeed years of penance—a penance more cruel and far more +hard to bear than any penalty inflicted by man could possibly have been.</p> + +<p>He had been a prisoner indeed, bound fast in the captivity of his own +remorse; but now it seemed to him as though the long black night of his +imprisonment were breaking, as though a light, as yet very far off and +faint, showed upon some distant horizon with a promise of another and +more radiant day which should surely dawn ere long.</p> + +<p>Whence came this blessed lightening of his gloom? He could not say. Was +it perhaps due to the fact that even now he was risking his life in the +service of another woman—it is to be feared he forgot all but Iris in +this strangely exalted moment—that to him her life had been confided by +the father who adored her, and that to him and to him alone could she +look for comfort and for help in the bitter hour which he foresaw was +even now at hand for the girl who loved Bruce Cheniston—and must see +him die....</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>And as his thoughts played, lightning-wise, round the figure of the +beloved woman, his footsteps led him on, more and more blithely as his +spirit rose, ph[oe]nix-like, above the ashes of his burnt-out tragedy, +and in an incredibly short space of time he approached the well whence +he might draw the precious water for lack of which the little garrison +he had left must perish and die.</p> + +<p>It was a peaceful spot, this well. Just such a place as that to which +Rachel and the daughters of Jacob must, long ago, have come to fill +their pitchers—a quiet, palm-guarded spot where doubtless, in days gone +by, the village women had congregated in search of water and of +news—the chattered gossip of the East, punctuated by the tinkling of +native bangles as the beautifully-moulded arms raised the pitchers to +the finely-carried heads.</p> + +<p>The well was deserted now, but the water was as clear and pure as ever, +and with a sigh of relief Anstice set about filling his goat-skin +water-bottle, and then, anxious to lose no time, he retraced his steps +over the moonlit desert without delay.</p> + +<p>He marched blithely on and on, ever companioned by that new and thrice +welcome sense of freedom which had come to him, as though at each step +he took the fetters with which a great regret had for so long shackled +his soul grew looser and less binding, until it seemed that they might +presently fall off altogether, and allow him once more to face the world +as a free man, and not the captive of a cruel and unjust fate.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He had reached the outskirts of the village before the necessity for +caution reasserted itself; but just as he was passing, as softly as +possible, the little group of palm trees which he had noted earlier, he +caught a glimpse of a man prowling, as it seemed, round the trunks of +those same trees; and in another second he knew that by an unlucky +chance the man was between him and the only place in which he might have +taken cover.</p> + +<p>There was no time to be lost. At any moment the Bedouin might look up +and see him—an unfortunately conspicuous figure in the moonlight; and +although the Fort was not more than a quarter of a mile away, should it +come to a race the odds might well be in favour of the desert-bred man.</p> + +<p>True, he was armed—for in spite of his protests Garnett had insisted on +him carrying one of the few revolvers owned by the little defending +force; but he did not wish to fire, save in the last extremity, since a +shot would certainly rouse the village and cut off his one chance of +regaining the shelter of the Fort.</p> + +<p>There was just a possibility that the man might not see him, so intent +was he at the moment in his scrutiny of the village; and in a second +Anstice had taken his resolve—a desperate resolve enough, but the only +one he could formulate at the moment.</p> + +<p>He began, instantly, to run, and so noiseless was his progress that no +sound reached the ears of the prowling Bedouin; and had the native's +other senses been less keen, it is possible Anstice would have escaped +notice altogether.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately the man turned himself about, and saw the flying figure, +which stood out only too plainly in that empty expanse of moonlit sand; +and after a second's hesitation, as though he could barely believe the +evidence of his eyes, the native left his hiding-place and began to run +with quick, loping gait after the fugitive, calling out something in a +high, piercing voice as he ran.</p> + +<p>In his college days Anstice had been somewhat of an athlete; and +although he had long since relinquished any sporting ambitions which he +might once have cherished, he had reason to bless his own turn of speed, +which, being a natural and not an acquired gift, did not fail him now.</p> + +<p>But never in his life had he run as he was running to-night. Apart from +any consideration of his own personal safety he was running for the +safety of others—of one in particular; for he knew only too well how +pitifully small was the force which held the beleaguered Fort; and +though in itself his life might be of little value, as a bulwark between +Iris Cheniston and her enemies it had a value all its own; and must not +be relinquished without a fierce and determined struggle.</p> + +<p>On and on he ran, the blood drumming in his ears, the goat-skin pounding +maddeningly about his shoulders. But even could he have brought himself +to fling away the precious water for which he had cheerfully risked his +life, he could not spare time to unfasten the skin slung across his +back; and he raced swiftly onward, cursing the loose sand which now and +again threatened to trip him up, not daring to look back until he had +lessened the distance to the Fort by a considerable amount.</p> + +<p>Then, casting a sharp glance over his shoulder, he saw that the Bedouin +was gaining upon him, his long, tireless stride, which resembled that of +a greyhound, swallowing the ground with little apparent effort; and +Anstice's quick mind realized that, fine runner as he knew himself to +be, he was outclassed by this native athlete.</p> + +<p>"All right, Dorando," he muttered grimly, half-aloud, as he checked +himself for a second in his race. "I can't outrun you, but I'm damned if +I don't put a bullet through you all the same."</p> + +<p>And pulling out his revolver he whisked about, so quickly that the other +had no time to realize his intention; and taking definite aim at the +man's thigh he fired once, twice—with satisfactory results, inasmuch +as the other uttered a sharp cry, spun round once or twice and fell in a +heap on the sand, incapable of further movement.</p> + +<p>For a second Anstice paused, innate humanity forbidding him to leave the +man alone in his agony; but the thought of Iris drove away such +weakness, and realizing that the noise of the shots must incite his foes +to immediate investigation, he hastily restored his revolver to its +place and ran, faster than ever, in the direction of the Fort.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the air behind him was rent with shrill clamour, and he knew +the village was aroused at last; but he cared little now, for he was +close to his desired haven; and a last spurt over the rocks at the +entrance to the valley landed him, spent and breathless, at the foot of +the Fort, beneath the window from which dangled the precious rope which +should carry him to safety.</p> + +<p>Regardless now of precaution, he lifted such voice as remained to him in +a would-be lusty hail; and as an answering shout came from above he +wasted no further time, but seized the rope and began—painfully now, +for he was exhausted—to haul himself slowly up, cheered on by Garnett's +hearty congratulations from above.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"By Jove, that was a close call!" Once safely inside the building, the +dangling rope pulled through the window after him, Anstice collapsed on +the rough stone floor and mopped his brow feebly.</p> + +<p>"I should say so!" The resourceful Australian had already produced a +tiny flask of brandy. "Here, take a pull at this, and you'll feel better +in a second. And when you've recovered, if you'll explain the meaning of +the shooting-match, I'll be thankful to you."</p> + +<p>Between his gasps Anstice described the chase and its subsequent ending; +and Garnett's eyes shone with an unholy lust for battle as he listened.</p> + +<p>"Good on you!" He clapped the other man on the shoulder with a +heartiness which was almost painful. "Well, we'll have the hornet's nest +about our ears in no time now; but at least we've got you back safe and +sound, and with a bit of luck we'll hold out grandly till the +reinforcements come!"</p> + +<p>"How is Cheniston?" Anstice rose as he spoke and slipped the goat-skin +from off his shoulders. "Anything happened since I've been away?"</p> + +<p>"Not that I know of—but I believe he was pretty bad a while ago." +Garnett's face clouded. "Jolly rough luck on his wife, isn't it? She's +so young, and so plucky, and I see you expect the poor chap to peg out."</p> + +<p>"I think I'll go and see him," said Anstice slowly, the exhilaration +dying from his manner; and as Garnett pulled aside the rough curtain +which covered the doorway he stepped on to the uneven stone floor +without.</p> + +<p>And then he came to a pause; for Iris was coming towards him; and her +face wore a curiously stricken look which made his heart miss a beat.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Cheniston—you want me? Is your husband worse?"</p> + +<p>For a moment she did not reply. Then:</p> + +<p>"He is dead, Dr. Anstice," she said quietly. "He died ten minutes +ago—just after I heard those two shots——"</p> + +<p>"Dead?" Although he had half expected the news, Anstice found it hard to +believe. "Mrs. Cheniston, are you <i>sure</i>? May I come and see? You +might—possibly—be mistaken."</p> + +<p>"I am not mistaken," she said, and for a second a pitiful little smile +touched her white lips. "Bruce is dead—but come and see for yourself. +I ... I am glad you are safely back, Dr. Anstice."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said quietly; and then without more ado they moved side +by side towards the room in which Bruce Cheniston had yielded up his +life.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wood rose from her seat as they entered, and glided softly away, +beckoning to her husband, who stood by the window, to join her; and when +they were alone Anstice and the girl so lately widowed moved forward +until they stood beside the bed on which Bruce Cheniston lay in all the +white majesty of Death.</p> + +<p>A very brief examination satisfied Anstice that Iris had not been +mistaken. Cheniston was dead; and as he stood looking down on the quiet +face, which, by virtue of Death's magic alchemy, had regained in the +last hour something of its former youth, Anstice knew a sincere and +unfeigned pity for the young life so ruthlessly cut short by a cruel +disease.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mrs. Cheniston." He covered the dead white face gently. "I am +sorry to say you are right. Were you with him when he died?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. We were alone," she said, and again that oddly stricken look made +his heart yearn pitifully over her.</p> + +<p>"He was conscious before the end?"</p> + +<p>"I—I think so—at least, partly." Her tone was indefinable, desolation +and a strange, half-hurt wonder sounding in its low note. "He did not +speak much—only a few words—at the end I don't think he knew me...."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry you were left alone," he said, and he ventured to lay his +hand for a second gently on her arm. "I wish I could have been back +earlier. I am afraid it has been a shock to you."</p> + +<p>"Death is always a shock," she said quietly, and again a wintry little +smile touched her lips. "But—don't think me unkind, Dr. Anstice—I am +glad I was alone with him—at the end."</p> + +<p>In spite of himself a great amazement shook him at her words. Although +her meaning was a mystery to him, there was no doubt she had spoken in +perfect sincerity; and in the midst of his inward turmoil Anstice found +time to wonder exactly what she meant by this curious speech. Somehow he +could not help connecting the odd look which her face still held with +the strange words she had used; and he wondered what had been the manner +of Cheniston's passing.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Cheniston"—Iris started as his voice fell on her ears—"you will +come away—now? There is nothing for you to do here. And you should try +to sleep——"</p> + +<p>"Sleep?" She glanced up at him with an indescribably dreary look in her +eyes. "I could not sleep, Dr. Anstice. If you will let me stay with +you"—her voice shook a little—"I should be glad. I—I don't want to be +alone—just yet."</p> + +<p>"Of course you don't." He spoke promptly. "And you shall certainly stay +with me, if you will. But—will it trouble you to make me a cup of +coffee, Mrs. Cheniston? I'm awfully sorry to bother you, but I've had +nothing to eat for some time——"</p> + +<p>At another moment she might have seen through his subterfuge; but now, +her wits dulled, her mind clouded by the scene through which she had +lately passed, she accepted his petition as genuine.</p> + +<p>"Of course I will get you some coffee—at once." She moved towards the +door as she spoke. "I—I am so sorry I did not think of it before."</p> + +<p>When she had gone he went quickly in search of Garnett, and explained +what service he required of the stalwart Australian.</p> + +<p>"Of course—we'll carry him, bed and all, into another room," said +Garnett readily. "That window must be guarded, and we can't ask the poor +girl to enter the room with her husband lying dead there. Let's hustle, +while she's busy—the little room 'way across there will do."</p> + +<p>Accordingly when Iris re-entered the room, rather shrinkingly, to +acquaint Anstice with the fact that a meal awaited him, she found an +empty space where the bed had stood; and although her eyes widened she +said nothing on the subject—an omission for which Anstice was thankful, +for the night's work had been a strain on him also; and he was in no +humour for further discussion at the moment.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He found the rest of the little garrison even more subdued than usual. +The death of one of their number had naturally cast a general gloom; and +when he had made a pretence of despatching his supper Anstice easily +persuaded Mrs. Wood to take a few hours' rest by the side of her little +girl, who was now, fortunately, well on the way to recovery from her +sudden illness.</p> + +<p>The incapable Rosa was also dismissed to seek what slumber was possible; +and then the four men took up their positions as before—Mr. Wood and +Garnett keeping watch from the window of the room in which Cheniston had +died, while Anstice and Hassan stationed themselves at the second +window; Iris leaning against the wall, very pale, but apparently quite +composed, on a pile of rugs which Anstice had arranged for her well out +of range of a possible stray shot.</p> + +<p>She had promised him to try to rest; but as the hours of the short night +wore away and the critical moment of dawn approached, he knew that +although she sat in silence with closed eyes she did not sleep; and +again he wondered, vainly, insistently, what had passed between husband +and wife before Death cut short their mutual life.</p> + +<p>He felt he would have given much to know what reason Iris had to be +thankful that she and her husband had been alone in the hour of his +death; and although he had no intention of pursuing the subject he could +not quite stifle his curiosity as to her meaning.</p> + +<p>But Sir Richard Wayne's daughter was the soul of loyalty; and although a +day was to come in which she and Anstice had few secrets from one +another, he was destined never to know that Bruce Cheniston had died +with Hilda Ryder's name upon his lips.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>And so the short night passed; and with the dawn the long-expected +attack came at last.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIB" id="CHAPTER_VIB"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + + +<p>"Dr. Anstice"—Iris' voice was very low—"shall I disturb you if I come +and sit beside you for a little while? I—I feel rather—lonely—sitting +over there."</p> + +<p>Anstice had turned round sharply as she began to speak and his heart +yearned over her pitifully as he noted the pallor of her cheeks, the +forlorn look in her grey eyes.</p> + +<p>"Of course you won't disturb me." He dared not speak so emphatically as +he wished. "I shall be only too glad if you will come and sit here"—he +arranged the pile of rugs by him as he spoke—"only, if danger arises, +you will keep out of harm's way, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." She said no more for a moment; but her assent satisfied him, and +he turned back to the window with a sudden feeling of joy at her +proximity which would not be repressed.</p> + +<p>Presently he heard her low voice once more.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice, when you told me your story—long ago—why didn't you tell +me the name of the man to whom that poor girl was engaged? Didn't you +want me to know she was to have married—Bruce?" Her voice sank on the +last word.</p> + +<p>For an instant Anstice kept silence, uncertain how to answer her. Then, +seeing she was waiting for his reply, he made an effort and spoke.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Cheniston, to be honest, I don't know why I did not tell you. +But"—he seized the opportunity for a question on his own account—"will +you tell me how you know, now? Did—did your husband tell you?"</p> + +<p>"No." Her eyes met his frankly and he knew she was speaking the truth. +"I learned the fact for certain by accident three days ago, when Bruce +was delirious. Of course I had wondered—sometimes"—said Iris +honestly—"but I never liked to ask. And after all it made no +difference."</p> + +<p>"No." He sighed. "It made no difference. But I am glad you know—now."</p> + +<p>Again a silence fell between them; and then a sudden impulse drove +Anstice into speech.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Cheniston," he said, very quietly, "may I tell you something +else—something I have long wanted you to know?"</p> + +<p>Startled, she assented; and he continued slowly.</p> + +<p>"You remember that night—the night before your wedding day"—he saw her +wince, and went on more quickly—"the night, I mean, when Cherry +Carstairs set herself on fire and you came for me to my house——"</p> + +<p>"Yes." Her eyes were sad. "I remember. I don't think I shall ever be +able to forget that night."</p> + +<p>"Ah, don't say that!" His voice was eager. "Mrs. Cheniston, don't, +please, believe I gave in without a struggle. I didn't. God knows I +fought the horrible thing—for your sake, because you had been good +enough, kind enough—to ask me to give up trying that way out. I did +try. Oh, I know you can hardly believe me—you who saw me in the very +hour of my failure—but it's true. Although I gave in at the last, +beaten by the twin enemies of bodily pain and mental suffering——"</p> + +<p>"You were—in pain—that day?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I had endured torture—oh, I don't want to excuse myself, but +please understand I was really ill, really suffering, and morphia, as +you know, does bring a blessed relief. And I was wretched, too—it +seemed to me that life was over for me that day——"</p> + +<p>He stopped short, biting his lips at his self-betrayal; but Iris' grey +eyes did not turn away from his face.</p> + +<p>"And so, thinking I could endure no more agony of body and mind, I had +recourse to the one relief I knew; but before God, if I had known that +you would be a witness to my failure——"</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice"—the gentleness in her voice fell like balm upon his sore +spirit—"please don't say any more. We are only human, you and I; and +one failure does not minimize a long-continued success."</p> + +<p>"You mean——"</p> + +<p>"I mean that I know—I can't tell you how, but I <i>do</i> know it—you have +never again tried that way out of your troubles. I think," said Iris, +"you have found the <i>real</i> way out—at last."</p> + +<p>Her words perplexed, even while they relieved him; and he sought the +meaning of them.</p> + +<p>"The <i>real</i> way, Mrs. Cheniston? I wonder what you mean by that?"</p> + +<p>"I mean," she said very softly, "you must have found the way out of your +own troubles by the very act of pointing out the way to others. You have +brought Chloe Carstairs back to life—oh, I know it was through you that +the mystery was cleared up at last—and that alone must make you feel +that whatever mistake you may once have made you have atoned for it a +hundredfold. And"—for an instant Iris' voice shook—"what are you doing +now but atoning for that mistake—if further atonement were necessary?"</p> + +<p>"You mean——"</p> + +<p>"I mean that you are here, waiting for the Bedouins to attack us at any +moment, waiting to fight for us women, ready, if need be, to die on our +behalf." The words fell very softly on the quiet air. "And though I pray +that God will send us help so that no life may be sacrificed I +know"—Iris' eyes shone, and her voice rang suddenly like a clarion +call—"I know that I—that we are safer with you than with any other man +in the world...."</p> + +<p>Carried away by her trust in him Anstice turned to her impulsively.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Cheniston, I can't thank you enough for those words. God knows I +would willingly, gladly die to shield you from any harm; and if help +should not come in time, and I should lose my life, well, please believe +two things—firstly, that since that dreadful night I have +never—failed—in that way again; and secondly, that to die in your +service"—so much he might surely say in this poignant hour—"would be a +death which any man might envy me."</p> + +<p>She did not reply in words; but her eyes answered for her and for a +moment there was silence between them. Then, as though half afraid he +might have angered her by his last impetuous speech, Anstice spoke +abruptly in another tone.</p> + +<p>"Odd, isn't it, how an action carried through in a moment may have such +tremendous consequences? I mean if I had stayed my hand long ago in that +Indian hut you and I would not be here now, faced with this +rather—difficult—situation. It makes one realize that one should never +act too hastily—without looking all round the subject, so to speak."</p> + +<p>"Yes. And yet—sometimes—if one stopped to think of the consequences +one would be afraid to act, and let the vital moment slip," she said +rather dreamily. "Of course there is always the afterwards——"</p> + +<p>"Do you know of what that reminds me?" He spoke quickly. "Once, long ago +when I was a student, I picked up a book of old plays at a bookstall in +the Charing Cross Road. And in one of the plays I came across this +sentence: 'The deed itself may be the work of a moment; but there is +always the long, long <i>afterwards</i> with which to reckon.'"</p> + +<p>His voice died away; but she said nothing, though her eyes betokened her +interest; and presently he resumed.</p> + +<p>"Well, that sentence has haunted me pretty frequently of late—it has +run through the years like the saying of some avenging angel. I have +known what the reckoning with the <i>afterwards</i> may be—sometimes, +indeed, I have feared that reckoning will never be paid."</p> + +<p>"Dr. Anstice," she said quietly, "you are wrong. The reckoning <i>is</i> +paid; the atonement <i>is</i> made; and I am quite sure that the future—for +you—will be rid for ever of the haunting shadow of the past. And"—her +cheeks blanched suddenly as a clamour arose in the courtyard outside—"I +think the future is beginning—with trouble and danger—now."</p> + +<p>"I believe you are right." Turning impetuously to the window, which for +a moment he had neglected, he found Hassan, his eyeballs rolling +horribly in his dusky face, leaning out excitedly; and as he too craned +into the lifting darkness Anstice saw that the moment of attack was at +hand.</p> + +<p>Without warning save that given by their exultant shouts the Bedouins +were swarming over the wall, clambering over like great cats, dropping +with sundry thuds on to the sandy ground beneath; and in another moment +Anstice saw that they carried roughly fashioned scaling ladders, with +which they evidently intended to force an entrance, should that be +possible in the face of the defenders' fire.</p> + +<p>"See here, Mrs. Cheniston." Anstice spoke almost curtly. "Will you go +into the other room now? You are safer there, and out of harm's way for +the time, at least."</p> + +<p>"No, Dr. Anstice." She spoke determinedly. "I am going to stay here. You +have spare revolvers, haven't you? Then I can load for you and for +Hassan, at any rate, even if I can't be of other use."</p> + +<p>"You know how?" He was surprised.</p> + +<p>"Yes. My father taught me long ago. And"—for a second her voice +faltered—"I—I feel safer here. Please let me stay."</p> + +<p>"Very well." He could not bear to send her away. "But you must promise +to keep as far as possible out of range. We can't afford any casualties, +you know."</p> + +<p>"I promise," she said very quietly; and he knew she would obey his +injunctions implicitly.</p> + +<p>The next moment Garnett rushed into the room, his blue eyes alight with +a most warrior-like flame.</p> + +<p>"See what's up, Anstice? Good—I guessed you'd not be caught napping. +I'll get back now—there's going to be a gorgeous scrap in a minute. +Mrs. Cheniston, are you all right there?"</p> + +<p>"Quite, thanks." Her calm voice reassured him; and he dashed out of the +room without further parley, while Anstice and Hassan waited, tensely, +their revolvers in readiness, for the moment to open their defence.</p> + +<p>It was not yet day; and in the grey gloom it was difficult to +distinguish the nature of any object which was not close at hand; but +Anstice made out that the approaching Bedouins intended to scramble up +to the windows by use of their scaling ladders; and his face wore an +unusually grim expression as the flying moments passed.</p> + +<p>Ah! The first tribesman to reach the level of the window gave an +exultant yell, as though he saw his foe already within his grasp; and on +that shout of triumph his desert-born soul was sped to whatever haven +awaited it. For Anstice's revolver had spoken; and the swarthy Bedouin +fell headlong to the earth, shot, unerringly, through the heart.</p> + +<p>Anstice heard Iris give a faint gasp at his side; but now his blood was +up and he had no time to reassure even the one beloved woman. Something +strange, unexpected, had happened to him. Suddenly he too was primitive +man, even as these desert men were magnificently primitive. Gone was all +the veneer of civilization, the humanity which bids a man respect a +fellow-creature's life. He was no longer the educated, travelled man of +the world, who earned his living in honourable and decorous ways. He was +the cave-dweller, the man of another and more barbaric age, who defended +his stronghold because it held his woman, the woman for whom he would +fight to the very end, and count his life well spent if it were yielded +up in her service. But he did not mean to die. He meant to live—and +since that implied the death of these savages who clamoured without, +then let red death stalk between them, and decide to whom he would award +the blood-dripping sword of the victor.</p> + +<p>Another fierce face at the window—a pair of hawk-like eyes flashing +haughty challenge, a sinewy hand raising a revolver in deliberate +aim—and Hassan's shot rang out, so swiftly that this man too fell back, +disabled, his face disappearing from the window as one runs a film off a +reel of pictures.</p> + +<p>But there were others—many others—to take his place. Up and up they +came till there was a whole phalanx of enemy faces, eyes flashing, white +teeth gleaming in horrid snarls ... shot after shot rang out, but by +marvellous luck none touched the defenders, who on their side emptied +their revolvers as fast as Iris' fingers could make them ready.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a gigantic man half sprang over the sill and without attempting +to fire seized Anstice by the wrist in a grip of iron, whose marks +disfigured him for weeks to come. His intention was obvious—by holding +Anstice a prisoner he hoped to make opportunity for others to force an +entrance; and as Anstice had involuntarily dropped the revolver as the +steel-like fingers crushed his wrist, the fate of the little garrison +hung, for a second, in the balance.</p> + +<p>"Iris—shoot—quick!" Quite unconscious of the name he used Anstice +raised his voice in a desperate shout; and the girl heard and obeyed in +the same breath.</p> + +<p>Lifting the revolver she had just loaded she fired once, twice, with +fingers which did not even tremble; and the next moment with a loud +gurgle the Bedouin released his hold and fell back through the window, +dislodging the men who were clambering up the ladder behind him, so that +they fell together in a confused mass into the courtyard below.</p> + +<p>For a second there was a breathing-space; and Anstice turned to Iris +with gleaming eyes.</p> + +<p>"My God, you have a nerve!" His breath was coming in quick pants. "Mrs. +Cheniston, I can't thank you—I never dreamed that even you would be so +plucky."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't pluck—it was just—obedience," she said, and though her face +was very pale she smiled bravely up at him. "Dr. Anstice, are +there—many more to come? You have disabled a good many, haven't you?"</p> + +<p>"Between us, yes." He was cool again now, and picked up his revolver as +he spoke. "They seem to be hanging back a bit—and to judge by the row +Garnett's making I should say he's doing pretty well too."</p> + +<p>Bang! A bullet whizzed suddenly by Iris' head; and Anstice pulled her +hastily into a safer place.</p> + +<p>"Here they come back again!" His tone was almost boyishly gleeful. +"Well, we're ready for 'em—eh, Hassan?"</p> + +<p>The Arab, who was firing as steadily as though at a pigeon-shooting +match, nodded, his white teeth flashing out in a merry grin; and as the +Bedouins, taking heart, recommenced their attack, the two men, native +and Englishman, turned back to their task with renewed vigour.</p> + +<p>Neither Iris nor Anstice ever had a very clear recollection of the next +ten minutes. It was an inferno, a babel, a confusion of shots and yells +and angry clamour; but beyond a slight, flesh wound sustained by Hassan +neither of the defenders sustained any casualties; and had their +ammunition been as plentiful as their courage was high there would have +been no doubt as to the ultimate issue.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Anstice turned to Iris with a question on his lips; and her +face paled as she replied:</p> + +<p>"Not much, now. I think—only enough for three more rounds." She spoke +steadily.</p> + +<p>"I see. And then——" He broke off, handing her the empty revolver he +held.</p> + +<p>"And then?" She breathed the question softly; but there was no fear in +her face.</p> + +<p>"And then—I am not quite clear what happens then." He looked at her +more searchingly. "Mrs. Cheniston, what do you say—then? I'm ready, as +you know, to die for you, but"—he paused, then resumed in a rather +hoarse tone—"if I die what will become of you? I suppose"—he faltered, +and his lips were dry, but some inward impulse drove him on—"I suppose +you would not wish me to—save—a last cartridge...."</p> + +<p>"For me?" Her smile, as she faced him, was splendid. "No, Dr. Anstice, +I'm not afraid to die, if I must, at the hands of our enemies. But I +will not accept death—from <i>you</i>."</p> + +<p>He knew—irrevocably—what she meant. She was determined at least to +spare him a recurrence of the tragedy which had ruined so many of what +should have been the best years of his life; and although he knew he +could have faced even that risk courageously in her service, none the +less did he rejoice that he was not called upon to do this thing a +second time.</p> + +<p>"Then—if the worst should happen—if we are not relieved in time——"</p> + +<p>"We can all die—together," she said very simply; and in her face he +read something which, told him that for all her youth this girl would +know how to die.</p> + +<p>But further speech was suddenly cut short The Bedouins, who had been +hanging back for a moment's parley, had evidently rallied their forces +for another effort; for with a yell destined to strike terror into the +hearts of their foes they literally swarmed up the ladder until the +whole window-space was filled with a horrid nightmare of bearded, +swarthy faces, of sinewy, grasping hands, of tossing spears and +flourished fire-arms.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, with an exclamation of pain, Hassan dropped his revolver and +clapped his hand to his side; and Anstice felt, with a wild thrill of +dismay in all his veins, that the fight was practically over for them +now. The odds were too great—one well-directed bullet and he too would +be disabled, powerless to protect the girl for whose sake he longed so +ardently to win the day.</p> + +<p>"My God, Iris, we're beaten!" Even as he spoke he was firing into the +midst of the mass of packed faces at the window; and he heard her words, +spoken in a passionate whisper as one hears strange, whispered sentences +in a dream:</p> + +<p>"No—no!" Iris had been listening to another sound—the sound of hope, +of renewed life—and now, in the moment of his discouragement, she +whispered the glorious truth. "Listen—they're here—the men have come +in time—oh, don't you hear them shouting to us to hold on—for a +minute——"</p> + +<p>The next moment a wild cry from Hassan rent the air; and as the crowd of +fierce faces seemed, suddenly, to recede as a wave washes backwards on +the shore, Anstice knew, with a great uplifting of his spirit, that help +had indeed come—miraculously—in time to save the day....</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Answering shouts from the desert, the drumming of horses' hoofs, the +clamour of voices upraised in cries of encouragement—these were the +sounds which Anstice, almost unbelieving, heard at last; and as the +desert men began to retreat, tumbling over themselves and each other in +their haste to flee before this new enemy was upon them, Anstice turned +to Iris with a laugh of purest happiness.</p> + +<p>"They have come—you're safe now, thank God!"</p> + +<p>"We're all safe, thanks to you," she answered him with shining eyes; and +as he threw his empty revolver aside she held out both her hands to him +and he clasped them joyfully.</p> + +<p>"They have come—and so soon! I never dared to hope they would be here +before to-night at earliest!"</p> + +<p>"Nor I—but they are here!" He released her hands and turned to greet +the rest of the little garrison, who, having heard the clamour, had +realized they were saved, and came pouring in to hear the story of the +night's encounter.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>At the same moment a fierce hubbub arose in the courtyard as the +Bedouins realized that they were verily in a trap. Some of them, +gathering their robes about them in undignified haste, managed to +scramble over the wall in the confusion and so make good their escape, +for the time at least; but the majority were neatly cornered; and though +they fought magnificently, as was their wont, they realized only too +soon that they were outnumbered; and in a comparatively short space of +time the fight was over.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Just as the rising sun flooded the desert with superb pink brilliance +the whole party, rescuers and besieged, met in the courtyard.</p> + +<p>Both Anstice and Garnett had been in the thick of the last affray; and +the soldier who was apparently in command of the expedition took +advantage of the breathing-space to congratulate the defenders on the +splendid defiance they had offered to their foes.</p> + +<p>"We heard the row quite a long way off," he said, "and hurried for all +we were worth, thinking we'd be too late if we didn't hustle. But from +the vigour of your defence it seems to me we might have taken it easy."</p> + +<p>"Good job for us you didn't," returned Anstice rather grimly. "We'd got +down to our last round—another five minutes and we'd have been wiped +out."</p> + +<p>"Whew!" The other man whistled. "Pretty close call, what? Lucky for you +we <i>did</i> hustle, I see."</p> + +<p>"Yes—but can you explain how it is you're here so soon? We hadn't dared +to look for you till to-night or to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's easily explained. We fell in with your messenger—Sir +Richard Wayne, isn't it?—on our way back to Cairo. We were returning +from a little punitive expedition"—he smiled pleasantly—"and were only +too glad to set out on another jaunt. We get fed-up lounging about +barracks, and these affairs come as quite a God-send in the wilderness."</p> + +<p>"By the way, where is Sir Richard?" Anstice had been scanning the +company, but could catch no glimpse of his friend. "His daughter, Mrs. +Cheniston, is here, you know, and she will be anxious——"</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes—I have a message for her. Is she here—can you take me to +her?"</p> + +<p>"She is here," said Anstice quietly, as Iris, hearing her name, +approached. "Mrs. Cheniston, this gentleman has a message for you—from +your father——"</p> + +<p>"I'm Lane—Captain Lane, Mrs. Cheniston." He saluted her hastily. "And +your father asked me to tell you he was quite well, only a little tired +with his double journey. He wanted very much to return with us, but he +really was not fit to turn back immediately; and knowing how a lame +duck"—he coughed and looked suddenly embarrassed—"I mean—how one man +may delay a squadron, so to speak, he very sensibly agreed to stay at +our camp for a few hours' rest. We shall pick him up as we go back," he +added, and Iris smiled rather wearily as she answered:</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much, Captain Lane. You are <i>sure</i> my father is all +right?"</p> + +<p>"Certain—only a bit fagged, and no wonder, for he'd ridden hard. +Ah—and he told me to say you were to ask Dr. Anston—Anstice, is +it?—to help you in any matter in which you wanted a little help."</p> + +<p>"I will certainly do that," said Iris quietly; and as the other men +pressed round the little group, eagerly questioning the defenders of the +besieged Fort, Iris slipped away from the excited crowd so unobtrusively +that no eyes save those of Anstice witnessed her departure.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Three minutes later Anstice, leaving the rest planning the return +journey over the desert, went quietly in search of Iris.</p> + +<p>He found her, as he had half expected, standing by the window of the +room in which Bruce Cheniston had died; and in her eyes was a forlorn +look which showed him the measure of her desolation in this sunrise +hour.</p> + +<p>Quietly as he had entered she had heard him come, and turned to face him +with a rather tremulous smile.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Cheniston, I came to look for you." He approached as he spoke; and +in spite of herself she felt comforted by the mere fact of his presence. +"You are not worrying because your father very wisely let those fellows +come on ahead of him?"</p> + +<p>"N-no," she said, with a queer little catch in her breath. "Only—I had +so wanted—so hoped—to see my father—<i>soon</i>."</p> + +<p>"I know," he said quietly, "and you <i>will</i> see him—very soon. We shall +start this afternoon, when the horses are rested; and then it will not +be many hours before you and your father meet again."</p> + +<p>"Yes." She looked at him with something of appeal in her eyes. "Dr. +Anstice, my father said you would help me ... you will, won't you? You +know," said Iris simply, "you are the only person I can turn to—now."</p> + +<p>More moved by her words than he cared to show, Anstice answered her, not +impetuously, but with something in his manner which would have inspired +confidence in any woman.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Cheniston, I will do all I can—and God knows I am grateful to Him +for allowing me the chance of helping you—now. If you will trust +yourself to me I will not relinquish my trust until I give you safely +into your father's keeping. You <i>will</i> trust me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Dr. Anstice." She held out her hands to him as she spoke in token +of sincerity. "I would trust you—to the end of the world!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>And as he took her hands in his and vowed himself afresh to her service +Anstice knew, with a great lightening of his spirit, that during the +night march over the desert, that which he had almost dared to hope +might happen, had indeed come to pass; that the chains with which his +own action had shackled his soul had fallen from him for ever, and that +full atonement for Hilda Ryder's death had been made at last.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="FAMOUS_NOVELS_BY_KATHLYN_RHODES" id="FAMOUS_NOVELS_BY_KATHLYN_RHODES"></a>FAMOUS NOVELS BY KATHLYN RHODES</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE LURE OF THE DESERT<br /></span> +<span class="i0">THE DESERT DREAMERS<br /></span> +<span class="i0">THE WILL OF ALLAH<br /></span> +<span class="i0">SWEET LIFE<br /></span> +<span class="i0">AFTERWARDS<br /></span> +<span class="i0">FLOWER OF GRASS<br /></span> +<span class="i0">THE MAKING OF A SOUL<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><i>In cloth, with attractive pictorial wrapper, 1/6 net.</i></p> + +<p>Vivid descriptions of the entrancing scenery of the East, incident +crowding upon incident, romantic situations, exciting intrigues, +unexpected dénouements hold and absorb the interest from start to +finish.</p> + +<h4>KATHLYN RHODES<br /> +is the assured success of 1918,<br /> +as GERTRUDE PAGE was the success of 1916<br /> +and MABEL BARNES-GRUNDY of 1917.</h4> + +<p>Fired with enthusiasm to win fame as a novelist, Kathlyn Rhodes began +her career before her school days were ended. "Sweet Life" followed +shortly afterwards; and the appreciation which this won encouraged the +authoress to follow quickly with other stories. Choice of subject she +holds to be of primary importance. With the war depressing us all +around, she believes that many readers prefer stories that permit them +for the time to forget it; and this she achieves by her delightful +flights of fancy through the realms of many lands.</p> + +<p>These are the stories to send to your soldier friends to combat the +horrors of warfare and the tedium of the hospitals; and the stories to +read yourself to relieve the weary vigils we must keep at home.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Afterwards, by Kathlyn Rhodes + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AFTERWARDS *** + +***** This file should be named 21867-h.htm or 21867-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/1/8/6/21867/ + +Produced by David Clarke, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: Afterwards + +Author: Kathlyn Rhodes + +Release Date: June 19, 2007 [EBook #21867] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AFTERWARDS *** + + + + +Produced by David Clarke, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + _Afterwards_ + + _By Kathlyn Rhodes_ + +_Author of "The Desert Dreamers," "The Will of Allah," "The Lure of the +Desert," etc._ + + + + + LONDON: HUTCHINSON & CO. + PATERNOSTER ROW + + PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY + RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, + BRUNSWICK ST., STAMFORD ST., S. E. 1, + AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK. + + + + +_PROLOGUE_ + + + + +I + + +"Dr. Anstice"--the girl spoke slowly, and her voice was curiously +flat--"how much longer have we--before dawn?" + +Without replying, the man glanced at his watch; and when he spoke his +voice, too, was oddly devoid of tone. + +"I think--only an hour now." + +"Only an hour." In the gloom of the hut the girl's face grew very pale. +"And then----" She broke off, shuddering. + +"Miss Ryder, don't think of it. After all, we need not give up hope yet. +An hour--why, heaps of things may happen in an hour." + +A wan little smile touched the girl's lips, and she came a step nearer +her companion. + +"Don't let us buoy ourselves up with false hopes," she said quietly. "In +your heart you know quite well that nothing on earth can save us now. +When the sun rises"--in spite of herself she shivered--"we shall die." + +The man said nothing for a moment. In his heart he knew she spoke the +truth; yet being a man he tried once more to reassure her. + +"Miss Ryder, I won't allow that." Taking her hand he led her once more +to the rude bench on which she had spent the night. "There _is_ a +chance--a faint one, I admit, but still an undeniable chance." + +"You mean----?" Although she tried to speak calmly he heard the tiny +thrill of hope in her voice, and in his soul he wondered whether, after +all, he were not acting cruelly in speaking thus. + +"I mean our absence must have been noticed long ago. When we did not +return in time for the picnic lunch or tea, someone must have wondered +where we were; and it is quite possible we were seen to enter the Temple +earlier in the day." + +"That awful Temple!" The horror in her eyes made his heart beat +pitifully over her. "If only I had not been so foolish as to insist on +entering! You didn't know how dangerous it was to go in, but I did--at +least, I knew something of the danger--and I would go ... and then--the +uncanny silence, the sudden knowledge that we were not alone ... that +something, _someone_ malignant, hateful, was watching us--and then those +awful men who seized us ... oh!" The agony of remembrance was too much +for her, and she sank back, half-fainting, against the wall. + +"Miss Ryder, don't go over it all again!" Although it seemed certain +that they had only an hour to live, Anstice could not bear to see her +suffer now. "Don't let us think of what has happened--let us try to +imagine that we are saved--as indeed we may be yet!" But he stole a +glance out of the empty window-space as he spoke, and his heart sank to +note the lightening of the Indian night's soft dusk. + +"I think not." Her tone was calm, almost indifferent, but her +apprehensive eyes belied her voice. "Dr. Anstice, you have not forgotten +your promise? If ... if it comes to the worst, you--you won't let me +fall into--_their_ hands?" + +And then he knew that in spite of her endeavours to be brave, to face +the impending fate heroically, she too had had her doubts throughout the +long hours of their imprisonment--doubts as to whether death would +indeed come to her with the merciful swiftness of a fanatic's bullet.... + +And because he shared her doubt, because he, too, had wondered whether +he alone would be shot at dawn, while she, his companion in this +horrible nightmare, were reserved for some far more ghastly fate, +because of his wonder and his doubt Anstice rejoiced in the fact that he +had it in his power to save her from the worst that could happen. + +He had not given his promise-lightly; yet having given it he would +fulfil it, if the God who seemed to have deserted them in their need +should see fit to nerve him to the deed. + +She was looking at him wistfully, with something of horror behind the +wistfulness; and he could not bear to keep her waiting any longer for +the assurance she craved. + +"Yes," he said gently, and there was a tender note in his voice. "I will +keep my word. You shall not fall into their hands. I promise you that." + +She sighed faintly, and made room for him beside her on the rough seat. + +"That is settled, then. And now, just for this last half-hour, let us +pretend that we are in no danger, that we are waiting for our friends, +the friends we ran away from at the picnic--yesterday." + +Something in her own words startled her, and she broke off abruptly. + +"Well?" He smiled at her. "Let us pretend. How shall we begin?" + +"Was it only yesterday?" Her accent thrilled him through and through. +"Did we really start out from my uncle's bungalow yesterday morning? How +gay we were, weren't we--all the twenty of us ... you and I leading +because our horses were the best and I knew the way...." + +"Yes--and all the smart young officers looking daggers at me because I +had carried you off!" His tone was admirably light. + +"Nonsense!" Hilda Ryder actually laughed, and in the dim and gloomy hut +her laughter sounded almost uncanny. "I'm sure no one was in the least +envious! You see, we were new friends--and it is such a treat to meet +someone new out here!" + +"Yes. By Jove, we'd only met twice, hadn't we? Somehow I was thinking we +were quite old friends, you and I! But as you say, I was a new-comer, +this was my first visit to the East. Rather a change, India and the +snows, from a slum in Shoreditch!" + +"Shoreditch? Did you really live in a slum?" + +"Rather--and quite enjoyed it!" He laughed at her incredulous face. "It +was experience, you see--disease flourishes in many and divers forms +down there, and although I couldn't contemplate staying there for ever, +the time wasn't wasted." + +"And then--you left your slum?" + +"Yes. I wanted more time to myself." He threw back his head as he +talked, and swept the curly black hair off his brow with an impatient +hand. "You see I had visions--oh, purely futile ones, I daresay--but I +had a great idea of finding a cure for a certain disease generally +considered incurable----" He broke off suddenly. + +"Well? You have found it?" Her tone was eager. + +"Not yet--but I shall!" In his enthusiasm he had forgotten the present, +forgotten the horror which was coming nearer with great strides as the +morning brightened in the sky. He saw only the future--not the immediate +future--death, with his back against the wall of the courtyard, his face +turned to the rising sun; but the splendid, strenuous future, when after +good years of toil, of experience, even of suffering, he should make the +great discovery which should free mankind from one of its most grievous +foes, and add a precious treasure to the scientific storehouse of the +world.... + +"It's a difficult task--almost superhumanly difficult!" His black eyes +snapped at the thought of the difficulties in the way. "But thank God +I'm young and full of hope--the hope that belongs to youth--and with +luck I believe I'll win through in the end...." + +A sudden shaft of rosy light, striking slantwise through the windowless +aperture in the wall, brought him to a standstill. + +"Sunrise! My God--I--I'd forgotten!" In an instant the youth and +enthusiasm were wiped out of his face as by a ruthless hand, and he +started to his feet. "Miss Ryder, forgive me! I've been talking like a +fool, and you sit there listening like an angel, while all the time----" + +"Hush, please!" She laid her hand on his arm, and through the sleeve of +his thin riding-suit he felt the chill of her slender fingers. "It isn't +time--yet. Let us pretend until the last minute. You know--you haven't +asked me what I intend--intended"--for a second she faltered--"to make +of _my_ life!" + +Inwardly cursing his own folly, Anstice sat down again beside her and +took her hand in his as a brother might have done. + +"Well, what is ... was...." He, too, bungled over the tense, but she +pretended not to notice his confusion. "What are you going to be--or do? +I hope your dreams are as wild as mine!" + +"Not quite!" Her tone robbed the words of all offence. "Mine are very +humble dreams, I'm afraid! You see"--for a second her voice shook, but +she steadied it and continued to speak--"there's a man in Egypt whom I +am--was--oh, what can I say?--whom I was to marry--some day." + +"Really? You're engaged?" A fresh pang of pity shot through his heart. + +"Yes. He's an engineer--in the Irrigation Department--and the best man +in all the world!" For a moment love triumphed over death, and its glory +illuminated the gloom of that fatal place of imprisonment with a hint of +immortality. "That's _my_ ambition, Dr. Anstice--to love him and marry +him, and be a true and faithful wife--and perhaps"--her voice sank a +note--"perhaps in time to bear his children. That"--said Hilda Ryder, +and now her eyes were full of dreams--"would be to me the most glorious +destiny in the world!" + +Her soft voice trembled into silence, and for the space of twenty +heart-beats the two sat motionless, only their hands seeking the mutual +comfort which their warm contact might well bring. + +Then, with a sudden movement, Hilda Ryder sprang to her feet and crossed +the mud floor to the aperture in the wall. + +"Dr. Anstice, the sun is rising. I suppose--now--we have only a few +minutes more to live." + +He followed her across the floor and together they watched the dawning +of the day which was to be the herald of death. With the inexorable +swiftness of the East the sun was rushing into the sky in all his glory +of scarlet and pearl, and in spite of the significance of his triumphal +rising the two who watched him caught their breath at the rosy +magnificence of his entry. + +But Hilda's words must not go unanswered; and with a resolute squaring +of his shoulders Anstice turned from the gorgeous world outside to the +dimness of the hut. + +"Yes," he said, rather slowly and deliberately. "I am afraid we have +only a few minutes left--now." + +Curiously, she cavilled at his choice of words. + +"Why do you say--afraid?" He could not understand her tone. "You are not +afraid to die--it's I who am such a pitiful coward that I daren't face +death--out there in the sunlight." + +"You're not a coward, Miss Ryder!" Impulsively he patted her shoulder, +and in spite of everything his action thrilled her with a sense of +comfort. "Why, all through this dreadful night you've behaved like a +heroine, and if your courage fails you a little now--which I hardly +believe--well, that's excusable, at any rate!" + +"Have I been brave?" She looked at him with wide blue eyes like the eyes +of a child. "I am glad of that, seeing it was I who led us into this by +profaning--and making you profane--their Temple. I was afraid I had been +dreadfully cowardly. I--I didn't feel brave, you know!" + +"You poor little girl!" She was nearly as tall as he, a stately young +woman, in truth, but suddenly he saw her as a frightened child. "You've +been braver--much braver than I--and I wish to God I could have got you +safely out of this! What do you say? Shall we break open the door and +make a dash for it? We might win through--if the guards were taken by +surprise----" + +"Have you forgotten the high wall of the courtyard--and the great gates +which can only be opened by three men?" He _had_ forgotten, and her +reminder seemed to close the last avenue of escape. "No, Dr. Anstice, +that's not the way out. But----" A sudden noise outside made her start, +and her voice grew hoarse suddenly and broke. "Oh, you won't fail me, +will you? You have my revolver safe?" + +"Yes." It lay safely hidden in an inner pocket, its tiny size alone +having prevented its discovery by alien hands. "I have it in my pocket. +There's only one cartridge, but that will be enough if--if we have need +of it." + +"Thank you, Dr. Anstice." To his surprise and admiration she had +regained her courage, the threatened collapse of the previous moment +gone for ever. "Then I can wait quite calmly. But"--her blue eyes met +his very fully--"you won't delay too long? The moment they come you +will--do what you have promised?" + +"Yes, dear." In that second he forgot that their acquaintance was barely +a week old, forgot that Hilda Ryder was the promised bride of another +man. In this moment all external circumstances were forgotten, and +nothing remained but the fact that they were called upon to face death +together, and that to him alone could the girl look for comfort and help +in the bitter hour which faced them. And he knew that his hand must be +steady to do her service; that he must guide her footsteps unfalteringly +to the gate through which she must pass in all her radiant youth; must +support and strengthen her with hand and voice so that she might look +the dark angel fearlessly in the face and pass that frowning portal with +unflinching step and dauntless mien. + +In the hour of death he must help her to be true to herself, so that no +craven fear should sully her proud soul, and with this high resolve he +turned to her with the little word of endearment on his lips, and laid +his hand on her arm with a touch of real affection. + +"I will do what I have promised when the moment comes." He felt a little +shiver run over her body and his hand tightened on her arm. "Dear, it +will soon be over. Really you need not be afraid." + +"Tell me"--she turned to him, and the look in her eyes thrilled him +through and through--"does it _hurt_--death when it comes like--that?" + +"No." He spoke firmly. "You must not think of that. It is all over in a +second--and you know"--he hesitated--"after all, this life is not +everything." + +"No." A new light touched her eyes for a moment, a light brighter than +that of the rising sun. "There is a life beyond, isn't there? My mother +died three years ago, and I have missed her sorely," said Hilda Ryder +simply. "Surely she will greet me--there. But"--for a moment a great +human yearning shook her soul--"it's hard to leave this dear life +behind ... the world is so wonderful, so lovely--I'm sure no other world +can ever be half so beautiful as this." + +A sudden clamour in the courtyard outside drove the colour from her +cheeks, and instinctively she clung to him. + +"Dr. Anstice, they're coming, aren't they? Is this--really--the end?" + +For a second he listened, the blood running icily in his veins. Then he +turned to her with a smile on his lips. + +"Yes. I think they are coming--now. But"--his voice changed--"after all, +there might be a chance--for you!" + +Instead of reassuring her his words drove her to a white-lipped terror. + +"You're not going to fail me now? Dr. Anstice, for the love of God, do +as you promised--I will be brave, I will indeed--only don't let them +take me--oh, don't!" + +"It's all right, dear." He slipped his arm round her and drew her +closely to him. "I won't fail you. I thought for a moment there might be +a chance, but after all this is the better way." + +"I knew you could be brave--for me," she said, very softly; and then, as +a native voice outside the hut called an order, he felt her tremble in +his arms. "They are coming--Dr. Anstice, let us say good-bye--or"--she +actually smiled--"shall it be _au revoir_?" + +"That, I think," he said steadily, holding the little revolver hidden in +his hand as he spoke. "Dear, I'm going to do it now ... close your eyes, +and then you will know nothing till you open them to see your mother's +face." + +A long sigh shook her from head to foot. Then she closed her eyes +obediently. + +"Thank you." They were the last words he heard her say as he raised the +revolver; and the next moment the merciful deed was done, and Hilda +Ryder was safe for ever from the vengeance of the fanatics whom she had +all unwittingly enraged. + +Then, as the door opened at last, and two grave-faced Indians entered +and motioned to Anstice to accompany them into the courtyard, he went +out unflinchingly into the sunlight to meet his fate. + + + + +II + + +Late that night two British officers sat on the verandah of a bungalow +in the hills, discussing the tragedy which had happened at dawn. + +"It's an appalling affair altogether," said the elder man, as he threw +away his half-smoked cigar. "If we had been five minutes earlier we +should have saved the girl, and the man would have been spared a +lifetime's regret." + +"Yes." The other officer, who was young and very human, spoke slowly, +and his eyes were thoughtful. "It is a good deal worse for the man than +the woman, after all. Shall you ever forgot his face when he realized +that he was saved? And by Jove it was a near thing for him, too." + +"Too near to be pleasant," rejoined his companion grimly. "Of course, no +one but a lunatic would have allowed the girl to enter that Temple. +Don't you remember that affair a couple of years ago, when two American +fellows only just got out in time?" + +"Yes." Young Payton's voice was dubious. "But you must remember, sir, +Anstice was a new-comer, and didn't know the yarn--and it is just +possible Miss Ryder didn't know it either. Or she may have +over-persuaded him." + +"Well, she's paid for her folly, poor girl." Colonel Godfrey rose. "Her +uncle's off his head about it, and what the fellow she was to marry will +say remains to be seen. I suppose he'll want an explanation from +Anstice." + +"Why, you don't mean he'll blame the man for doing what he did?" The +young officer spoke boyishly. "After all, it was the only thing to do. +Fancy, if the girl had fallen into the hands of those fanatics! Shooting +would have been a merciful death compared to the life she might have had +to endure." + +"Of course, of course!" Colonel Godfrey rose and moved to the steps of +the verandah, where he stood looking absently out over the moonlit +world. "It was the only thing to do--and yet, what a tragedy it has all +been! By the way, where is Anstice? I've not seen him since we came in." + +"He's in hospital. Got a nasty swipe across the shoulder in the +rough-and-tumble before we got away, and it gave Dr. Morris an excuse to +shove morphia into him to keep him quiet a bit. Of course when he comes +round I expect he'll be pretty sick about it all, but at least the poor +devil has got a few hours' respite." + +"That's a blessing, anyway. Wonder what he'll do after this. Sort of +thing to ruin a man's nerve, what?" + +"Probably take to drink--or drugs," said Payton succinctly. "Some chaps +would put a bullet through their brains, but I don't fancy Anstice is +the sort to do that." + +"Don't you?" For a second Colonel Godfrey hesitated, still looking out +over the garden to where the line of the eternal snows glimmered white +and passionless in the splendid moonlight. "Yet you know, my boy, one +could hardly blame a man for blowing out his brains after a tragedy of +this sort. No." With a last glance at the mystery of the snows he turned +back to the lighted verandah and took out his cigar-case. "I think one +could not blame this fellow Anstice if he chose that way out." He +selected a cigar with care. "After all, he must feel as though he had +murdered the girl, and though I fully agree with you that there was +nothing else to be done, still one can imagine how the memory of the +deed will haunt the poor chap all his life." + +"Yes." Rex Payton lifted his cap from the table and prepared to take his +leave. "Well, good-night, sir. I think I'll just step across and see how +he's getting on. By Jove, what a magnificent night. It's as bright as +day out here." + +"Yes. Let me know in the morning how things are going." + +"Right you are, sir." With another hasty good-night Rex turned and +strode away across the compound in search of the doctor. + +"Still asleep, thank God," was Morris' report. "Give you my word I dread +his awakening." + +"Seems a pity he's got to wake at all," said Payton moodily. "Couldn't +you have given him a double dose while you were about it, and put the +poor devil out of his misery?" + +"That's not the way we work," returned the other dryly. "There's been +one--miscalculation--to-day, and we can't afford any more. If he likes +to do it himself, when he comes round, that's a different matter. I +don't think he will, somehow. He doesn't strike me as that sort. He'll +face it out, I believe, though it will go hard with him in the doing." + +"When will he be himself again?" + +"I don't know. I shall keep him under as long as I dare. After all"--the +doctor, who prided himself on his lack of emotion, for once betrayed a +glimpse of the real humanity beneath the rather grim exterior--"he'll +have to serve a life-sentence in the way of regret, and one can't grudge +the poor wretch an hour or two's Nirvana." + +And: + +"By God, sir, I agree with you," was all Rex Payton could find to say. + + + + +III + + +One evening three weeks later Anstice sat in the smoke-room of a +well-known hotel in Bombay waiting for the arrival of the one person in +the world whom he might have been expected to avoid. + +The P. and O. boat had docked that afternoon; and among the passengers +was the man to whom Hilda Ryder had been engaged--the man to whom +Anstice must answer for the deed done as the sun rose on that fatal +morning twenty-one dawns ago. + +The news of the girl's death had been cabled to the young engineer in +Cairo immediately, followed by a letter from Colonel Godfrey relating so +much of the affair as he himself knew; and in response had come a +laconic message to the effect that Bruce Cheniston had sought and +obtained leave, and would be in India at the first possible moment. He +had been delayed by one or two accidents, but now he had really arrived; +and Anstice had come down to meet him, knowing that before he himself +could leave this fatal country there must be an explanation between the +man who had loved Hilda Ryder, and the one who had been too hasty in +carrying out a promise. + +To say that he shrank from this interview would hardly be true. As a +matter of fact, in the weeks which had elapsed since that fatal morning +Anstice had wandered in a world of shadows. Nothing seemed real, acute, +not even the memory of the thing he had done. Everything was mercifully +blurred, unreal. He was like a man stunned, who sees things without +realizing them; or a man suffering from some form of poison--from +indulgence in _hashish_, for instance, when time and space lose all +significance, and the thing which was and that which is become strangely +and unaccountably interchangeable. + +That there must be a reckoning between himself and Cheniston, Anstice +vaguely knew. Yet he felt no dread, and very little curiosity as to the +manner of their meeting; and although he recognized the fact that the +man to whom Hilda Ryder had been engaged might well look on him with +horror, inasmuch as his hand had sent her to her death, Anstice felt +little interest in the matter as it concerned himself. + +Possibly he was still feeling the effects of that morning's happening, +although unaware of it. He had received a nasty wound--even now his +shoulder was stiff and painful--and since he had discontinued the use of +opiates he had had little or no sleep; but he was a man of good +physique, and only an unaccustomed pallor and a few finely-drawn lines +round his mouth betrayed the fact that he had suffered--was suffering +still. + +One or two men glanced at him curiously as he sat in a corner, gazing +ahead of him with an unseeing stare; but only one man, a young officer +called Trent, recognized him as the hero of the tragedy which had shaken +the district of Alostan a few weeks earlier. + +Being a talkative person he could not refrain from pointing Anstice out +to his companion. + +"See that chap over there--the tall fellow in grey?" Trent had been one +of the picnic party which had ended in disaster; and although a +good-hearted boy was thrilled with the importance of his own position. +"Know who it is? Well, it's that chap Anstice--you remember, the fellow +who shot that girl up in the hills when they were in a tight place." + +"Oh! That the man?" The other, who was a portly civilian, looked at the +unconscious Anstice with open interest. "Shocking affair, what? If he'd +held his hand five minutes they would both have been rescued. Wasn't +that it?" + +"Yes. Looks a bit sick about it, doesn't he?" + +"Um ... yes. Good-looking fellow, in a hard-bitten sort of way." The +civilian looked Anstice over, approving the thin, well-cut face, the +tall, loosely-built figure, the long hands lying idly on the arms of his +chair. "Rather foreign-looking, with that black hair and those dark +eyes, isn't he?" + +"Yes. Looks years older than he did before it happened," said Trent, +speaking the truth. "I expect, though, it _is_ the sort of thing to age +one." + +"Yes. What's he doing here? Going home?" + +"Yes, but I fancy he's got an appointment with Cheniston first," +explained the younger man importantly. "Boat got in this afternoon, and +I expect Cheniston wants to hear the affair at first-hand." + +"Daresay. Rather rough on the poor devil." The civilian, beneath his +pompous exterior, had a kind heart. "Bad enough to have to shoot the +girl first, without explaining it all afterwards. Hope to goodness the +other chap lets him down lightly." + +"Oh, well, he can't say much." Trent broke off abruptly. "Here is +Cheniston ... by Jove, I wouldn't like to be Anstice at this moment." + +Unconscious of the interest he was arousing, a young man had just +entered the room. He was of medium height, broad-shouldered and bronzed, +with a good-looking, square face and a resolute chin. Just now he was +pale beneath his tan, and his eyes, which were narrow in shape and of a +rather hard blue, were strained and anxious. + +Inside the room, he looked uncertainly round; and the next moment +Anstice rose slowly to his feet. + +"You are Mr. Cheniston?" They might have been alone in a desert for all +the notice he took of any onlookers. "I think you are looking for me. My +name is Anstice." + +Bruce Cheniston nodded abruptly. + +"Yes. I'm Cheniston. We can't talk here. Will you come up to my room?" + +"Thanks." He moved forward, and Cheniston turned to the door. + +"This way. I'm some floors up--we'll take the lift." + +In silence they made the ascent; and now to his own unwelcome surprise +Anstice felt himself awaking from the merciful stupor in which he had +been sunk for so many unnoticed days. + +Suddenly he began to realize what this interview must mean to Cheniston; +and the knowledge that he must tear the knife from his own wound in +order to plunge it into the heart of the young man opposite him made him +feel as though he were already inwardly bleeding to death. + +From being vague and blurred his senses now became preternaturally +acute. His surroundings were no longer dim and formless, rather +everything grew inhumanly sharp and vivid. To the end of his life he +would preserve an extraordinarily faithful recollection of the room into +which Cheniston presently ushered him--the usual hotel bedroom in India, +with high green walls, mosquito curtains, and an entire absence of all +superfluities in the way of furniture or adornment. + +On the floor lay a Gladstone bag, half open as the owner had carelessly +left it; and Anstice found himself idly speculating as to whether the +white and purple striped glory which protruded from it was a shirt or a +pair of pyjamas.... + +His wandering thoughts were suddenly recalled to the affair of the +moment; and the minor things of life were forgotten in the onrush of the +vital things, the things which matter.... + +"Now, Dr. Anstice"--Anstice's professional instinct, so long in +abeyance, warned him that the man's self-control was only, so to speak, +skin-deep; and a quite unexpected and inexplicable rush of pity +overwhelmed him as the cold voice went on speaking--"I think you will +realize that I should like to hear your account of--of the affair that +took place in that accursed Temple." + +"I quite realize that." Anstice spoke slowly. "And I am ready to answer +any questions you may like to ask." + +"I--I think----" For a second Cheniston wavered, then spoke more +humanly. "Won't you sit down? I should like, if I may, to hear the whole +story from the beginning." + +"I see. Well, you are quite within your rights in wishing to hear the +story. No, I won't sit down, thanks. It won't take very long to tell." + +Cheniston moved a step backwards and sat down on the edge of the bed, +pushing the mosquito curtain impatiently aside. Then he took out his +cigarette case, and, still with his steel-blue eyes on the other man's +face, selected a cigarette which he held, unlighted, as he listened. + +Standing in the middle of the floor, his hands in the pockets of his +coat, Anstice began his story, and in spite of the fact that this man +had robbed him of all that he held dear in life, Cheniston was forced to +admit that at least he was proving himself no coward. + +"When we set off on that fatal picnic"--Anstice took it for granted that +his hearer knew the details of the occasion--"Miss Ryder and I went on +ahead. We were both well mounted, and she was, as you know, a fearless +horsewoman. We very soon out-distanced the others, and had gone a good +way when Miss Ryder suggested we should visit a certain Temple of which +it seems she had heard a great deal from a native servant. Had I known +then, as I know now, the reputation of the place, and the intense hatred +which the priests felt for any of the white races since that unlucky +American affair"--he realized suddenly that he appeared to be excusing +himself, and his manner hardened--"well, I can only regret that I +allowed Miss Ryder to set foot in the place." + +"You went?" + +"Yes. It was only a few miles off the track, and we were so far ahead of +the party that we should easily have had time to get to our original +destination for lunch. Well, we went on, found the Temple, apparently +deserted----" + +"Apparently?" The question shot out like steel. "There was someone +there?" + +"Yes. We both realized at the same moment that we were not alone. You +must understand that the place is half in ruins--it's a clever +subterfuge of the priests to keep out intruders by pretending there is +nothing there of interest. Most people turn back after a perfunctory +look round; but in reality if one penetrates through one or two passages +one comes to the Temple proper, where Heaven knows what rites go on." + +"You reached it?" + +"Yes. Thinking the place was merely a ruin I went on quite +comfortably ... and suddenly we found ourselves in a sort of Holy of +Holies ... a queer, pillared place with an enormous idol in a kind of +recess--an altar, I suppose." His voice was tense. "It was at that moment +we both realized someone was watching us, malignantly, from some unseen +vantage-point. I turned to Miss Ryder to suggest, as quietly as +possible, that we should retrace our steps, and found her, very pale, +staring ahead of her with horror in her face." + +"She had seen--something?" + +"Yes. Afterwards she told me it was the glitter of the man's eyes ... he +was looking through a kind of hole in the embroidered drapery behind the +idol ... that had attracted her attention; and she was only too ready to +fall in with my suggestion." + +"You were--prevented?" + +"Yes. As we turned towards the opening we found we were too late. Three +tall fellows--priests, I suppose they were--had come up behind us, and +as we moved they seized us ... two men held my arms--the third----" His +voice broke. + +"He--held Miss Ryder?" + +"Yes. He wasn't rough with her." The words, which happened to be untrue, +sounded painfully inadequate in his own ears. "They gave us no time to +explain anything, but took us before the Chief Priest, or someone of the +kind, and stated that we had been found desecrating the Temple by our +unhallowed presence." + +"You explained that you had done it in ignorance?" + +"Of course. But"--he smiled rather cynically--"they had evidently heard +that before. You know the Americans who got into trouble there had +really laid a plot to carry away some memento of their visit, and they +thought we were after loot of some kind, too, I suppose." + +"They wouldn't listen?" + +"Oh, yes, they listened all right while I tried, with Miss Ryder's help, +to explain. She knew a few words of their tongue, and somehow a +situation of that sort sharpens one's wits to the extent of helping one +to understand a strange lingo. The upshot was we were blindfolded"--he +saw Cheniston wince at the thought of the indignity to the girl he had +loved--"and led away. Later we were placed in a conveyance of some sort, +a bullock cart, I imagine, and driven for hours over some of the worst +ground I've ever struck." + +"Well?" The interest of the story was gripping the other man through all +his horror, and his tone had lost its hostility for the moment. "And +then?" + +"Finally we were released, led into a small hut, our eyes were +unbandaged, and we were informed that our fate was being deliberated, +and the result would be made known to us at sunset." + +"And at sunset----" + +"At sunset we were sent for to the presence of a still more important +personage, another High Priest, I suppose. We were taken into a kind of +presence chamber, across the large courtyard, and found our friends of +the morning, kow-towing to this still higher potentate. He didn't waste +words on us. Through the miserable creature who had interpreted for us +earlier, he made us understand that the penalty for setting foot in +their holy place was death--by strangulation as a general rule----" + +Cheniston's lips turned white, and his cigarette dropped to the floor; +but though Anstice saw his agitation he paid no attention. + +"But in consideration of the fact that we were English and one of us was +a woman"--Cheniston uttered an involuntary exclamation--"our sentence +was that we should be shot in the courtyard at sunrise." + +"One moment." Cheniston's voice was harsh, and he moistened his lips +before he spoke. "Weren't you armed? Couldn't you have--have made a +fight for it?" + +For the first time Anstice lost control of himself. The dark blood +rushed to his brow and his eyes flashed with anger. + +"Good God, man, do you suppose if I'd been armed we should have +submitted tamely? As a matter of fact, the brutes who attacked us in the +first place seized my revolver before I had a chance to draw it ... and +though I'm pretty tough, when it came to a struggle with those Indian +devils they were like steel--iron--anything you choose to compare them +with." + +"I know--their muscles are marvellous--especially the Hill-men." His +tone held a note of apology. "Of course, if you had had half a +chance--but"--suddenly his voice changed, grew suspicious--"you had a +revolver, in the end?" + +"Yes. Miss Ryder's. They did not suspect her of carrying a weapon, you +see, and it was a tiny one her uncle had given her, more as a toy than +as a serious protection." + +"She couldn't get at it to use it?" + +"No. We were bound as well as blindfolded, you know." He spoke grimly. +"Luckily Miss Ryder had the presence of mind to say nothing about it +till we were alone in the hut, our hands untied. Then she gave it to me, +and we found to our dismay that there was only one cartridge left." + +"How was that?" He spoke quickly, but there was no suspicion in his tone +now. + +"Miss Ryder explained that she had been practising shooting with her +uncle and had forgotten to reload. But"--he paused--"even had it been +fully charged, I'm afraid our fate would have been unchanged." + +Cheniston rose suddenly, took a few aimless steps across the floor, and +then sank down on the bed again almost in his former position. In front +of him Anstice stood motionless, his hands, clenched now, still in his +pockets, his eyes the only live feature in the grey pallor of his face. + +"Well!" Suddenly he threw back his head with a restless gesture, as +though the strain of the interview was beginning to tell on him. "After +hearing our sentence we were taken back to our hut, there to await the +moment of sunrise--of our death." + +"They gave you no food?" The question was almost futile in its +triviality; but Anstice answered it quite naturally. + +"Oh, yes, we were given food of a sort. Luckily I had a little flask of +brandy, and once--at midnight--I persuaded Miss Ryder to take a few +drops. She was splendidly brave throughout." + +There was a short silence. Both men felt that the crux of the interview +was at hand; and each, in his way, was preparing himself for it. + +"Well?" It was Cheniston who spoke first. "The night wore on, I suppose, +and you saw no hope of escape? But didn't you guess your absence would +be remarked upon?" + +"Of course. And we hoped against hope that someone would remember the +Temple." + +"They did--in the end?" + +"Yes, and made all possible speed to reach it. But by that time we had +been taken away, there was no one to be seen, and of course all traces +of us had absolutely disappeared." + +"Then how did they find you in the end?" + +"The native servant who had talked of the wonders of the Temple to Miss +Ryder was aghast when he found what harm his talk had done. It seems she +had cured his little boy of some childish illness, and he simply +worshipped her in consequence. So he was wild to rescue her, and after +dispatching parties of searchers in every likely direction he suddenly +recollected hearing of some mysterious High Priest in a tiny village in +the hills, which was so securely hidden from observation that very few +people knew of its existence." + +"Colonel Godfrey said he would never have reached it without the +guidance of some native," said Cheniston thoughtfully. "Would that be +the man himself?" + +"Yes. It seemed his father had known the way and had told him in direst +secrecy how to reach the village; and when the officers were ready to +start he went with them, and by some stroke of luck hit the right road +at once, although the directions were fearfully complicated." + +"If only you had known----" + +"Do you think I don't say that to myself day after day?" Anstice's brow +was pearled with sweat. "If I had had the faintest idea there was any +chance of a rescue----" + +"I know, I know!" The other man moved restlessly. "Good God, man, I'm +not condemning you"--Anstice flushed hotly--"I'm only saying what a +pitiful mistake the whole thing was ... the tragedy might have been +averted if only----" + +"It's no use talking now." Anstice's tone was icy. "The thing's +happened, the mistake is made and can't be unmade. Only, if you think +_you_ could have let her fall into the hands of those fanatics--well, I +couldn't, that's all." + +"She ... she asked you to ... to save her from that?" He hung on the +other man's answer as though his own life depended upon it. + +"Yes. I shouldn't have ventured to shoot her without her permission, you +know!" In a moment he repented of the ghastly pleasantry into which +exasperation had led him. "Forgive me, Cheniston--the thing's got on my +nerves ... I hardly know what I'm saying...." + +Cheniston, who had turned a sickly white beneath his bronze, looked at +him fiercely. + +"I'm making all allowances for you," he said between his teeth, "but I +can't stand much of that sort of thing, you know. Suppose you tell me, +without more ado, the nature of the--the bargain between you." + +Without more ado Anstice complied. + +"Miss Ryder made me promise that if the sun should rise before any help +came to us I would shoot her with my own hand so that she should not +have to face death--or worse--at the hands of our enemies." + +"You thought it might be--worse?" + +"Yes. My father was a doctor in China at the time of the Boxer rising," +said Anstice with apparent irrelevance. "And as a boy I heard stories +of--of atrocities to women--which haunted me for years. On my soul, +Cheniston"--he spoke with a sincerity which the other man could not +question--"I was ready--no, glad, to do Miss Ryder the service she asked +me." + +Twice Cheniston tried to speak, and twice his dry lips refused their +office. At last he conquered his weakness. + +"You waited till the sun rose ... and then ... you were sure ... you did +not doubt that the moment had come?" + +"No. I waited as long as I dared ... the sun had risen and we heard the +clamour in the courtyard outside...." + +"And so----" Again his parched lips would not obey his bidding. + +"When the men were at the very door of the hut I carried out my +promise," said Anstice steadily. "She closed her eyes ... I told her to, +so that she should not be afraid to see death coming ... and then ..." +at the recollection of that last poignant moment a slow shudder shook +him from head to foot, "... it was all over in a second. She did not +suffer--of that, at least, you may be certain." + +Cheniston's hand was over his eyes; and for a space the room was very +still. + +Then: + +"And you--you went out, as you thought, to meet your own death?" + +"Yes--and I wish to God I'd met it," said Anstice with an uncontrollable +outburst of bitterness. "I endured the shame, the horror of it all in +vain. You know what happened ... how just as the men were about to fire +the rescuers burst into the courtyard.... My God, why were they so late! +Or, being late, why did they come at all!" + +Cheniston's blue eyes, which had been full of a natural human anguish, +grew suddenly hard. + +"You are not particularly grateful to your rescuers," he said. "Yet if +they had been a few minutes later, you too would have been beyond their +help." + +Anstice was quick to notice the renewed hostility in the young man's +tone. + +"Just so." His manner, too, had changed. "But can you expect me to feel +a very vivid gratitude to the men who restored my life to me, seeing +with what memories that life must always be haunted?" + +"Need you endure the haunting of those memories?" + +The question, spoken quietly, yet with an obvious significance, took +Anstice aback. For a moment he frowned, his dazed mind fumbling after +the speaker's meaning. + +"_Need_ I?" Suddenly he knew what Cheniston had meant to imply. "Ah--you +mean a man may always determine the length of his days?" + +Cheniston nodded, never taking his eyes off the other's face. + +"I see. Well, suicide would be a way out, of course. But"--for a second +his eyes hardened, grew stern--"I don't mean to take that way--unless +life grows too much for me. A second--mistake"--he spoke slowly--"would +not annul the first." + +"No." Cheniston's face had lost all its boyishness; it looked haggard, +unhappy, old. "Possibly not. But when one has made a mistake of so +tragic a nature I should have thought one would have been only too ready +to pay the price of one's miscalculation." + +For a second Anstice stared at him silently. + +"Just so," he said at last, very quietly, taking his hands out of his +pockets for the first time. "The question is, What is the price? And do +you really think that to repudiate a debt by running away from one's +creditor, so to speak, is as satisfactory a settlement as to pay it coin +by coin, each coin drawn from one's own heart's blood?" + +This time it was Cheniston who stared at him in non-comprehension. +Presently he said slowly: + +"I think I understand. You mean the strongest man is the one who can +stand up to any situation with which life confronts him; can pay a debt +to the uttermost farthing though it may make him bankrupt in the doing. +That is what you mean?" + +"Yes," said Anstice steadily. "That is what I mean. God only knows what +the price may be, and whether I shall have the coin in my treasury when +I'm called on to pay ... if I am so called upon. And by the way"--his +face hardened--"do I understand you to mean that I'm your debtor--that +it is to you that the price may--one day--be paid?" + +Cheniston made no reply. The hostility had suddenly died out of his +eyes; and for a moment Anstice caught a glimpse of the man Hilda Ryder +had loved. + +"You know"--his square fingers played absently with his cigarette +case--"I have loved Hilda Ryder all my life. We were brought up together +as children; I was a few years older than she ... by the way, how old +are you?" + +Surprised, Anstice owned to his twenty-nine years. + +"And I am twenty-six. Hilda was twenty-four last year. Well, all my life +she has been the one--the only--woman in the world for me. We've been +engaged four years; her people wouldn't sanction it till she was twenty, +but we always knew we were made for one another, and Hilda used to say +she would rather be my wife than marry the richest, the most famous man +on earth!" + +Suddenly Anstice heard her soft voice in his ear. + +"To marry him ... perhaps in time to bear his children, would be to me +the most glorious destiny in the world...." + +A spasm of uncontrollable anguish convulsed his features for a moment; +but Cheniston was too intent on his own self-revelation to notice. + +"Life--without--Hilda seems impossible somehow." He laughed drearily. +"We have always been so happy together ... I can't imagine going on +without her." + +He paused, but Anstice said nothing. He did not know what to say. + +"I wonder--can I go on? Is it really required of me that I should +continue to hang on to an existence which is absolutely devoid of all +attraction, of all meaning?" He fixed his blue eyes on the other's face. +"You're a doctor, aren't you?" + +Anstice nodded. + +"Yes." + +"Well, I daresay it has happened in your experience that some poor devil +doomed to a lifetime of torture, condemned, perhaps, to bear the burden +of the sins of his ancestors, has begged you to furnish him with the +means of escape ... there must be cases in which death is infinitely +preferable to life, and a doctor must know plenty of safe ways of +setting free the poor imprisoned wretch as one would free a miserable +caged bird. Tell me, has such an experience ever come your way?" He +spoke almost irritably now. + +"Well," said Anstice, "and if it has? What then?" + +"How have you answered such entreaties, I wonder? Even you can't pretend +that life is always a sacred thing; that a man isn't sometimes justified +in turning his back on the existence he never desired and yet has to +endure." He paused, and his eyes held a queer blue glitter. "Well, have +you nothing to say?" + +"No," said Anstice resolutely, moving a step forward as he spoke. "On +such a subject I have nothing to say--to you. If, as seems possible, you +are suggesting that I should furnish either you or myself with an easy +solution of the problem of our respective lives, I fear I must decline +the suggestion. I'm a doctor, not a murderer, although"--suddenly he bit +his lip and his face turned grey--"you, of all men, may be pardoned for +thinking me ready to act as one." + +The passing softness which had given him back his youth faded out of +Cheniston's face; and when he spoke even his voice sounded years older. + +"Well, it's no use talking, I suppose. After all"--his lip curled--"no +man is dependent on another's good offices if he decides to cut short +his sojourn on this delightful planet. Though it strikes me that if, as +you say, you feel you owe me a debt, you might perhaps allow me to fix +the method of payment." + +He stopped short, taken aback by Anstice's imperious gesture. + +"Look here, Cheniston." He spoke curtly, his eyes ablaze. "Life has +given us both--me as well as you--a terrible jar. But you won't make +things better by resenting what has happened. You have lost the woman +you loved, but I have lost a good deal more. With the best +intentions"--he smiled ironically at his own phrase--"I have ruined your +life; and my own. I am ready to admit I owe you some reparation for the +wrong I have quite innocently done you; and I am ready, also, to pay you +any price in reason which you may ask, either now or in the future. But +the price must be one which may decently be paid." + +"I see." Cheniston spoke slowly. "I think, after all, we may shelve the +question of payment between you and me. Personally I hope--you will +forgive my frankness--that we may never be called upon to meet again. +You see"--his voice broke, but he cleared his throat angrily and went +on--"I can't help remembering that if you had waited Miss Ryder would +still be alive." + +Anstice was stung to a last impulse of self-defence. + +"If I had waited--and the rescuers had not come, it is possible death +would have been a merciful alternative to Miss Ryder's fate," he said. +"I have tried to explain that what I did was done--as Miss Ryder would +be the first to admit--for the best. But I see you are determined to +look upon me as a criminal; and as I don't intend to excuse myself +further, well, I will echo your hope that we may never meet again." + +And without any further attempt at farewell Anstice turned on his heel +and walked out of the room; leaving Bruce Cheniston staring after him +with an expression of amazement not untinged with shame in his narrow +blue eyes. + + + + +BOOK I + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +"If you please, sir, a telephone message has come for you from Cherry +Orchard just now." + +Anstice put down the paper he had been idly studying and looked at the +maid. + +"Cherry Orchard? That's the big house on the Littlefield Road, isn't +it?" + +"Yes, sir. It has just been reopened, cook tells me." + +"Oh. And I am wanted there?" + +"Yes, sir. At once, the message was." + +"Very good. Tell Andrews to bring round the car immediately. And put +dinner back a bit, Alice, please." + +"Yes, sir." The trim maid hurried away, and Anstice rose to obey the +summons, congratulating himself on the fact that the night was fine, and +the Littlefield Road good going. + +Ten minutes later he was on his way; and in due course arrived at his +destination, a pretty old gabled house standing in a large and +old-fashioned garden, from whose famous cherry trees the place derived +its quaint name. + +Six months earlier Anstice had bought a practice in the Midlands, on the +death of its former owner; but this was the first time he had visited +Cherry Orchard; and as he waited for his ring to be answered he +remembered the maid's remark as to the recent reopening of the house +with a slight feeling of curiosity as to its tenant. + +He was not kept waiting long. An elderly manservant speedily appeared; +and his face, which wore a worried expression, lightened as he saw +Anstice standing on the steps. + +"Thank God you've come, sir." The gratitude was so obviously sincere +that Anstice felt glad he had not delayed his coming. "If you'll kindly +go upstairs, sir--the housekeeper is waiting for you, I believe." + +He relieved Anstice of his hat and coat with hands which shook; and at +the same moment a swarthy, foreign-looking woman hurried forward with +unmistakable eagerness. + +"You are the doctor, sir? Then will you come up at once? My mistress is +upstairs, and the sooner you see her the better." + +Without wasting time in questioning her, Anstice motioned to the speaker +to lead the way; which she did accordingly, hurrying up the black oak +staircase at a surprising pace; and giving Anstice no time to do more +than glance at the artistic treasures which were in evidence on every +side. + +She led him a few steps down a broad gallery, lighted by large and +finely-designed windows; and paused outside a door, turning to him with +an expression of appeal--he could call it nothing else--in her small but +intensely bright eyes. + +"You'll be very gentle with the poor lady, sir? You won't--won't fluster +her?" She broke off suddenly, appeared as though about to say something +more, then closed her lips as though she had thought better of the +impulse, and opening the door invited Anstice to enter. + +Somehow her last words had given Anstice a queer, but possibly +justifiable, suspicion that he was about to encounter a _malade +imaginaire_; and just for a second he felt a spasm of irritation at the +stress which had been laid on the urgent need for haste. + +All such thoughts fled, however, as his eyes fell on the face of the +patient he had come to see; for here was no neurotic invalid, no +hysterical sufferer who craved sympathy for quite imaginary woes. + +On the bed drawn up in front of one of the big casement windows lay a +young woman with closed eyes; and as he approached her side Anstice saw +that it was not sleep but unconsciousness which claimed her at that +moment. + +"How long has she been like this?" He spoke sharply, one hand on the +slender wrist. + +"It's two hours since she was seized, sir." The woman's voice shook. "No +sooner was my mistress in the house--she came home only to-day--than she +fainted clean away. We brought her round, the maids and me, and she was +better for a bit ... then up she would get to look after Miss Cherry, +and off she went again. It's nearly half an hour ago ... and we got so +anxious that Hagyard telephoned for you ... we thought it was the right +thing to do." + +"Quite the right thing." He was too intent on his patient to pay much +attention to the woman's speech; but she was quite content to stand +silent as he tried one means of restoration after another; and when, +finally, his efforts were successful, both Anstice and the housekeeper +breathed more freely. + +"Your mistress ... her name, by the way...." + +"Mrs. Carstairs, sir." She spoke with a tinge of reluctance, and even in +the stress of the moment Anstice wondered why. + +"Oh. Well, Mrs. Carstairs is coming round now, she will be herself in a +moment or two. By the way, just go and fill a hot-water bottle, will +you? It is chilly to-night, and Mrs. Carstairs will probably feel cold." + +With a last look at her mistress the woman turned to obey; and Anstice +moved back to the bed to find his patient's eyes open and fixed upon him +with something of perplexity in their depths. + +"Don't try to move just yet," he counselled her quickly. "You've had a +bad faint, and must lie still for a little while. Do you feel better?" + +"Much better, thank you." Her voice, though it sounded weak, was oddly +deep in tone. "I suppose I fainted. Did they send for you?" + +"Yes. Your servants were getting alarmed." He smiled. "But there is no +need for alarm now. What you want is a long rest. You have been +overtiring yourself, perhaps?" + +A peculiar smile, which was mocking and yet sad, curved her lips for a +moment. Then she said quietly: + +"Perhaps I have overtired myself a little lately. But it was quite +unavoidable." + +"I see." Something about this speech puzzled Anstice, and for a moment +he was rather at a loss to know what to say in reply. + +She did not wait for him, however. + +"Do you think I shall faint again? These faints are so +unpleasant--really I don't think"--she paused, and when she resumed her +voice sounded still deeper, with a true contralto note--"I don't think +even death itself can be much more horrible. The sensation of falling, +of sinking through the earth----" + +She broke off, and he hastened to reply. + +"I don't think you need anticipate any further trouble to-night. I +suppose you have had your heart sounded?" + +Again she smiled; and once more he could have sworn there was mockery in +her smile. + +"Yes. But I don't think my heart is wrong. It--it is due to other +causes----" + +She stopped abruptly as the door opened, and the woman came in, carrying +the hot-water bottle for which she had been sent. + +"That you, Tochatti?" She seemed to welcome the interruption. "Thank you +so much." She let the servant fuss over her for a moment, then turned to +Anstice. "You see," she said, "I am well looked after." + +"I am glad you are," he rejoined promptly. "You know you are really in +need of a little care at present. If you will allow me, I should like to +sound your heart myself." + +She acquiesced rather wearily; and having satisfied himself that the +state in which he found her was due rather to weakness than to any +specific disease, he turned to the strangely named woman, whom he now +guessed to be a foreigner, and gave her a few directions for the night. + +"I'll see to it, sir," she said quietly; and Anstice knew his orders +would be faithfully carried out. + +"Well, I can't do you any good by staying," he said, bending over the +bed and holding out his hand. "But send for me if you want me, won't +you? And I'll look in to-morrow to see how you are." + +"One moment." Her hand in his felt strangely alive in spite of her +recent unconsciousness. "Put on a little more light, please, Tochatti. I +should like to see"--she spoke without any embarrassment--"to what sort +of person I am indebted this evening." + +When, the next instant, the room was flooded with light, Anstice had no +scruples in looking at his patient with an interest which, though less +openly expressed, was quite as strong as that with which she evidently +intended to scrutinize him. + +The first thing he noticed was that Mrs. Carstairs was young--probably +not more than twenty-five. The next, that she looked as though she had +recently gone through some nerve-racking experience; and the last, which +came upon him with a shock of unjustifiable surprise, that she was more +than commonly good-looking. + +Her features, as he saw for the first time, were classical in outline, +and the silky black hair which lay in heavy waves on her forehead shaded +a brow which in contour was almost purely Greek. Her skin was of so thin +and transparent a whiteness that her black eyebrows traced two inky +lines across her face; and the almond shape of her sapphire blue eyes +gave them a somewhat Oriental look, in spite of their eminently Western +colouring. + +When, in response to his stare, she vouchsafed a faint smile, he saw +that the mouth which was sad in repose was fascinating when she smiled; +and the white teeth which the smile displayed were perfect in shape and +colour. + +"Well?" Her deep voice took him so much aback that he absolutely +started. "You've seen me--haggard wreck that I am--and I've seen you. So +now we may consider our acquaintance inaugurated and say good-night." + +"Certainly." He looked at her closely; and noted her extreme pallor. "I +hope you will sleep--you look shockingly tired." + +"I told you I was a wreck," she said, still with that inscrutable smile. +"But if you will take me in hand I have no doubt I shall soon recover my +ordinary rude health." + +"I hope so." His tone was absent--he was wondering whether he had ever +seen this woman before; and coming, finally, to the conclusion that he +had not. "Well, I will leave you now, and hope to find you a great deal +better in the morning." + +"Thanks." She spoke wearily. "I'm sorry to have troubled you. +Good-night." + +In the hall the manservant waited, and Anstice, pitying his evident +anxiety, spoke reassuringly to him as he took his coat. "Your mistress +is much better now--with a little care she will soon be all right, I +hope." + +"Thank you, sir." The man's voice quivered with feeling. "We--we are all +very anxious when our lady is not well." + +"Of course." Anstice took the hat the servant held and moved to the +door. "Is that nine striking? I didn't know it was so late." + +Yet in spite of the lateness of the hour Anstice did not drive home at a +particularly rapid pace. Something in the episode just closed had +intrigued him, piqued his curiosity as well as stimulated his interest; +and he was wondering, as he drove, what there was about his patient +which suggested a mystery--something, at least, unusual unexpected, in +her character or surroundings. + +"She's uncommonly handsome--but so are heaps of women. Nice house, +plenty of money, I should say, and of course she herself is well bred. +Yet there is something odd about her--about her manner, rather. Looks at +one queerly--almost quizzically--and yet when she smiled she looked +extraordinarily sad." He turned a corner rather carelessly and a +surprised motor-cyclist sounded his horn reproachfully. "I wonder--is +she a widow? There was no sign of a husband, though I believe the +servant said something about a child. Anyhow"--he had reached his own +house now and slowed down before the gate--"I will see her to-morrow and +perhaps learn a little more about her--if there is anything to learn. If +not--well, women love to appear mysterious. There never was a woman yet +who didn't long to rival the Sphinx and appear an enigma in the eyes of +wondering men!" + +And he went in to his belated dinner with a rather cynical smile on his +lips. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Just as Anstice was starting out next morning an urgent telephone +message came through, requesting his help at a suddenly imperative +operation at a country house some miles distant. + +Although he had been in the district only a few months, Anstice was +already known to his professional brothers as a daring and skilful +surgeon; and one man--the one who now called upon his services--was in +the habit of wondering openly why so brilliant a man was content to bury +himself in the country instead of seeking fame and fortune in some one +of the big cities of the world. + +There were those who could have given a very good guess at the reasons +which led Anstice to shun notoriety and welcome the obscurity of +Littlefield; but in the meantime Dr. Willows was left to wonder in vain; +though his wonder was leavened with a genuine admiration for his +colleague's skill, and a fervent gratitude for the other man's +unwearying willingness to give his aid. + +On receiving the message Anstice frowned. + +"That you, Willows? Is it an urgent case? Oh--of course I'll come ... I +must make a few arrangements first ... yes ... yes ... I'll be with you +in half an hour, if that will do." + +He hung up the receiver, and now his manner was alert and keen. There +was about him none of the weariness, the indifference which too often +characterized his demeanour, and led some of his patients to complain +that he took no interest in them or in their sufferings. This was the +man who before that fatal day in India had stood, so it was whispered, +upon the threshold of a brilliant career--the man who, young, +resourceful, scientific, had taken a very real and deep interest in +every detail of his profession, and had led even the most cautious of +his teachers to prophesy for him a life of unvarying success. + +He even looked younger as he consulted his notebook this morning; and +the shoulders which had begun to stoop ever so little were squared, the +head held erect as he scanned the pages before him with quick, resolute +eyes. + +Luckily there was nothing very important on the morning list, no visits +that could not be safely postponed till the afternoon; and one or two +telephone messages soon put things straight and left him free to keep +his appointment with Dr. Willows. + +He had a moment's indecision over the case of his new patient at Cherry +Orchard, but reflecting that if necessary they would probably ring him +up, he judged it safe to put off his visit to Mrs. Carstairs till his +return; and finally went out to his motor with an easy mind. + +Returning home, fatigued but jubilant, at two o'clock, he applied +himself to his lunch; and then attacked his afternoon's work with an +energy engendered by the excellent results of the operation which he, in +company with his friend, had performed that morning. + +Being delayed on various pretexts, it was five o'clock before he found +himself at the pretty house in its fragrant garden; and he rang the bell +rather hastily, with an absurd feeling that the servants would look +reproachfully on his tardy arrival. + +The man seemed, however, to welcome him as he had done the previous +night; and when, a second later, the queerly named Tochatti arrived, her +face wrinkled into a discreet smile. + +"Mrs. Carstairs up to-day?" + +"She is in her room, sir. Will you come up, if you please?" + +He followed her up the broad, shallow stairs, which this afternoon she +took at a more moderate pace; and then she ushered him into the room he +had visited before, falling back so that he went in alone. + +Mrs. Carstairs was lying on a deep couch by one of the open windows, her +white gown set off by vivid blue cushions; and as he advanced Anstice +noticed that she looked even younger than he had judged her on the +preceding night. Her air of utter exhaustion had vanished; and there was +more colour in her lips, though her cheeks still retained their ivory +transparency. + +By her side was a little table bearing a tea-tray, and as Anstice shook +hands, congratulating her at the same time on her restored appearance, +she drew his attention to the teacups. + +"I was just going to have some tea. Be nice and have some with me. Will +you?" + +"Thanks very much." He accepted promptly. "I've been busy all day and +should enjoy a cup of tea. But first--are you really better this +afternoon?" + +"Yes, really." She spoke indifferently, as though the subject failed to +interest her. "I should have gone out, I daresay, but I felt tired, or +lazy, and succumbed to the charms of this delightful couch." + +"You did quite right." He took the cup she held out to him and sat down +in a chair beside the deep Chesterfield. "You know I think you must make +up your mind to take care of yourself for a week or two." + +"I can quite easily do that," Chloe Carstairs answered quietly. "I +hardly think I shall find it difficult to do what the new-woman novels +used to call 'living one's own life'--down here." + +"Certainly there isn't much going on." Anstice was puzzled by her +manner. "Do I understand that you 'belong' here, as the country folks +say?" + +She put down her cup rather suddenly, and faced him squarely, her blue +eyes full of a resolution which added several years to her age. + +"Dr. Anstice." Her deep voice had lost its richness and sounded hard. "I +should like to tell you something of myself. Oh"--she laughed rather +cynically--"I'm not going to bore you with a rhapsody intended to convey +to you that I am a much misunderstood woman and all the rest of it. +Only, if you are to see me again, I think I should like you to know just +who and what I am." + +Mystified, Anstice bowed. + +"Whatever you tell me I shall be proud to hear--and keep to myself," he +said. + +"Thanks." Her manner had lost its slight animation and was once more +weary, indifferent. "Well, first of all, have you ever seen me before?" + +"No. Though I confess that something in your face seemed familiar to me +last night." + +"Oh." She did not seem much impressed. "Well, to put it differently, +have you ever heard of me?" + +"No," said Anstice. "To the best of my belief I have never heard your +name before." + +"I see. Well, I will tell you who I am, and what I am supposed to have +done." No further warmth enlivened her manner, which throughout was +cold, almost, one would have said, absent. "When I was eighteen I +married Major Carstairs, a soldier a good many years older than myself. +Presently I went out to India with him, and lived there for four years, +coming home when our child was three years old." + +She paused. + +"I came here--this was my husband's old home--and settled down with +Cherry. And when I had been in the parish a year or so, there was a +scandal in Littlefield." + +She stopped, and her mouth quivered into a faint smile. + +"Oh, I was not the chief character--at first! It was a case in which the +Vicar's wife won an unenviable notoriety. It seemed there had been a +secret in her life, years before when she was a pretty, silly girl, +which was known to very few besides her husband and, I presume, her own +people. Now you would not think I was a sympathetic person--one in whom +a sentimental, rather neurotic woman would confide. Would you?" + +And looking at her, with her air of cold indifference, of complete +detachment from the world around her, Anstice agreed that he would not +expect her to be the confidante of such a woman. + +"Yet within a month of our meeting Laura Ogden had confided her secret +to me--and a silly, futile story it was." Her pale face looked disdain +at the remembrance. "No harm, of course, was done. I kept her secret and +advised her not to repeat what she had told me to anyone else in +Littlefield." + +"She followed your advice?" Anstice had no idea what was coming, but an +interest to which he had long been a stranger was waking slowly in his +heart. + +"_Chi lo so?_" She shrugged her shoulders. "Afterwards she swore she had +told no one but me. You see it appeared she very soon regretted having +given me her confidence. It happened that shortly after she had told me +her story we had--not a quarrel, because to tell you the truth I wasn't +sufficiently interested in her to quarrel with her--but there was a +slight coolness between us, and for some time we were not on good terms. +Then--well, to cut a long story short, one day anonymous letters and +post cards began to fly about the parish, bearing scurrilous comments on +that unhappy woman's past history. At first the Vicar tried to hush up +the matter, but as you may imagine"--her voice rang with delicate +scorn--"everyone else thoroughly enjoyed talking things over and +wondering and discussing--with the result that the Bishop of the Diocese +heard the tale and came down to hold a private inquiry into the matter." + +She stopped short and held out her hand for his cup. + +"More tea? I haven't finished yet." + +"No more, thank you." He rose, placed his cup on the tray and sat down +again in silence. + +"The Bishop suggested it was a matter for the police. The writer of +those vile communications must be discovered and punished at all costs, +he said. So not only the authorities but all the amateur detectives of +both sexes in the neighbourhood went to work to find the culprit. And +_I_ was the culprit they found." + +"You?" For once in his life Anstice was startled out of his usual +self-control. + +"Yes. They fixed upon me as the anonymous writer of those loathsome +scrawls; and the district was provided with a sensation after its own +heart." + +"But the idea's absurd--monstrous!" Looking at her as she leaned back +among her cushions, with her air of delicate distinction, Anstice could +hardly believe the story she was telling him. + +"So I thought at first." Her blue eyes narrowed. "But in some marvellous +manner they brought the charge home to me. I was the only one, they +said, who knew the story. I had wormed it out of the silly woman, they +alleged, and had then, owing to the subsequent coolness between us, +traded upon my knowledge in order to drive her out of the place." + +"But others must have known the story?" + +"Yes. But I was the only one in Littlefield who knew it." + +"So they said. But in reality----" + +"In reality, of course, it was known to someone else. But that person +took care to keep in the background. When once I had been suggested as +the culprit a quantity of evidence was forthcoming to clinch the matter, +so to speak. I was never particularly popular here, and people were +quite ready to believe me capable of the deed." She smiled faintly. "I +confess one or two things looked black for me--the letters were written +on the kind of paper I used, and though of course the handwriting was +disguised, there was, in one or two letters, an undeniable similarity to +some of my writing." + +"But your word--wasn't that sufficient?" + +The apathy of her manner relaxed for one moment into a kind of cold +amusement. + +"Oh, I gave my word--at first--quite freely. Knowing nothing of the +letters, of course I said so; but I was not believed. I confess +everything was against me. Most of the letters were posted in the pillar +box not a hundred yards from this house--but on one occasion when I had +gone down to Brighton for a couple of days, one of those vile things +bore the Brighton postmark." + +"But----" + +"Oh, I've nearly done." She glanced at the clock. "I am detaining +you--you're in a hurry? Don't mind saying so--this delightful story can +be continued in our next." + +"Please go on." Anstice would not willingly have foregone the rest of +the recital. + +"Well, after various suspicious happenings, which I won't inflict upon +you now, and after being interviewed by the Bishop, by detectives, by a +hundred and one individuals who revelled in the case, I was accused, +tried, and found guilty." + +"Found guilty? Impossible!" He sprang up, quite unable to sit still +another moment. Somehow he had not expected this climax. + +"Yes. I was found guilty." Her voice held little expression. "And +sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment. The judge who sentenced me +informed me--and the world at large--that he deemed it expedient to +'make an example' of me--only he put it more legally--as an educated +young woman, of apparent refinement, who had committed a crime connected +generally with illiterate and ignorant persons of degenerate +tendencies." + +"But you--you never served the sentence--such a vindictive sentence, +too!" + +"Yes, I did." For the first time her face changed, a hint of tragedy +appeared in her studiously passionless eyes. "You look surprised, but I +assure you it is true. I served my sentence, and came out of prison +exactly eight weeks ago." + +"Eight weeks? But you have only just come here?" + +"Yes. First I went down into Kent to stay with an old family friend who +had taken charge of Cherry--my little girl--while I was"--she hesitated, +then spoke with a directness he felt to be brutal--"in prison. I only +came here yesterday, and I suppose the shock of finding myself back in +my happy home"--he was sure she was speaking ironically now--"was too +much for my--nerves." + +"But, Mrs. Carstairs"--he looked down at her with perplexity in his +face--"do I understand you to mean you have deliberately come back to +live in the place which has treated you so shamefully?" + +"Why not?" Her long, blue eyes were inscrutable. "I'm not ashamed of +coming back. You see, I really don't care in the very least what these +people say about me. I don't even bear them malice. Prison life is +supposed to make one bitter, isn't it? You hear a lot about the 'prison +taint,' whatever that may be. Well, I don't feel conscious of having +sustained any taint. I have suffered a great wrong"--her contralto voice +was quite unmoved as she made the assertion--"a very grievous injustice +has been done to me; but now that the physical unpleasantness of the +ordeal is over I don't feel as though I--my ego, my soul, if you +like--had undergone any particular degradation." + +"I suppose"--the question was forced from him by his interest in the +human document she was spreading before his eyes--"I suppose what you +call the physical unpleasantness is really hard to bear?" + +He was sorry he had put the question as he saw the slow shudder which +for a moment convulsed her immobility. + +"Yes." For a second her voice was almost passionate. "I don't think I +could make you understand the horror of that side of imprisonment. Most +prison reformers, as I say, prate of the injury done to the soul of the +prisoner. For my part--it if were worth while, which it isn't--I would +always refuse to forgive those enemies who subjected my body to such +indignities." + +Her vehemence, so much at variance with her usual manner, made Anstice +uneasy about her. + +"See here, Mrs. Carstairs." He sat down on the couch beside her, and +spoke persuasively. "You must promise me not to let your mind dwell on +your terrible experience. Honestly, do you think it wise to stay here? +Won't it be painful for you to live among the people who know you? +Wouldn't it be better to go away for a short time, travel a little? +There are plenty of places off the beaten track where you would be able +to rest and get back your health and your spirits." + +She turned to him with a hint of a kindlier manner than she had hitherto +displayed. + +"Dr. Anstice, to tell you the truth I don't want to travel. I shall be +happier here, in my own home, with my old servants round me, able to do +exactly as I choose from morning to night." + +She hesitated a moment; then resumed in her former indifferent tone: + +"You see, my husband, although he refuses to believe in my innocence, +has handed over this house to me; and under my marriage settlement I +have quite a large income----" + +He interrupted her abruptly-- + +"Mrs. Carstairs, forgive me--did you say your husband refused to believe +you innocent?" + +"Yes. My husband--like the majority of the world--believes me guilty," +said Chloe Carstairs. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +The story he had heard on the occasion of his second visit to Cherry +Orchard haunted Anstice for days. There was something so incongruous in +the notion of this woman having served a sentence of imprisonment for an +offence which, of all others, might well be supposed the most impossible +for any decent person to commit; yet Anstice knew instinctively that +Mrs. Carstairs had spoken the truth; and although for the last few years +he had been far too much occupied with his own private grudge against +Fate to spare any pity for the woes of others, he did feel a surprising +sympathy for the young and apparently lonely woman whom the world had +treated so cruelly. + +That she was innocent of the crime with which she was charged, Anstice +never doubted. Since the catastrophe which had altered his whole outlook +on life, he had been inclined to be cynical regarding the good faith of +mankind in general; but Mrs. Carstairs' manner had carried conviction by +its very lack of emphasis. She had not protested her innocence--indeed, +he could barely remember in what words she had given him to understand +that she was not guilty of the loathsome deed; yet her very quietness, +the very indifference of her manner as she told her story carried more +weight than an avalanche of protestation would have done. + +As a medical man Anstice was something of a student of physiognomy; and +although Mrs. Carstairs' face was not one to be easily read, the shape +of her brow and the classical outline of her features seemed to Anstice +to preclude any possibility of the morbid and degenerate taint which +must have inspired the communications of whose authorship she had been +accused. + +The very fact that she did not appear to care whether or no he believed +in her strengthened Anstice's belief that she was an innocent and +much-wronged woman; and in his mind he linked her with himself as one of +the victims of an unfavourable and ruthless destiny. + +After attending her for a week Anstice declared her to be in no further +need of his services; and she acquiesced with the same air of half-weary +graciousness with which she had welcomed his visits. + +He noticed that she was rarely to be seen in the village or small town +of Littlefield. Occasionally she would pass him on the road in a +beautiful motor with which he supposed her husband to have endowed her, +and at these times she had generally her small daughter, wrapped in +furs, on the seat beside her. + +Anstice's introduction to the latter took place about a fortnight after +his last visit to Cherry Orchard in a professional capacity. It chanced +that he was interested in a small Convalescent Home for Children which +had recently been opened in the neighbourhood, and on one or two days +had cut short his visit to Mrs. Carstairs on the grounds that his +presence was required at the Home. Rather to his disappointment Mrs. +Carstairs had not evinced the slightest interest in the scheme, and his +surprise was proportionately great when, on one fine spring morning, he +received a large bunch of beautiful daffodils from Cherry Orchard, with +a rather carelessly worded request that he would give them to the Home +if they were likely to be welcome there. + +Anstice took the flowers with him on his morning visit, and the pleasure +they gave and the gratitude with which they were received led him to +snatch a moment on his way home to call upon the donor and thank her in +person for her kindly gift. + +As he turned his car in at the gate he hoard sounds of laughter, and a +few words in a child's high-pitched voice; and when he was half-way up +the drive he discovered from whence the merriment issued. + +Just ahead of him was a motor-cycle, driven, it would appear, by a girl +in a trim motoring-suit, while perched on the carrier at the back, in a +fashion which made Anstice's blood run chill, was a small child whom he +recognized as the daughter of the house, Cherry Carstairs, aged +something less than six years. + +The two were chattering and laughing, the driver sounding her horn in a +delightfully irresponsible fashion, and both were much too intent on +their progress and on the noise they were making to realize that a car +was coming up the drive immediately behind them. + +Instinctively Anstice slowed up, wishing the lively pair at Jericho; but +luckily they had nearly reached the front door, and in another minute +the motor-cycle had come to a standstill and the riders dismounted in +safety. + +"There--we've not come to grief, this time, have we, Cherry Ripe!" The +elder girl spoke gaily. "And now we'll see what Mother has to say--oh!" + +At that moment she beheld the car, which was coming to a standstill, and +she looked at the man who drove it with a frankness which was curiously +unselfconscious. At the same minute Mrs. Carstairs came slowly forward +onto the steps, and Anstice, dismounting, approached her without doing +more than glance at the girl-motorist. + +"Good morning, Mrs. Carstairs. I have come to thank you for your lovely +flowers." They shook hands as he spoke. "The Matron at the Home made me +promise to come and convey her thanks to you at the first possible +moment. That's my excuse for calling now!" + +He had spoken more impulsively than usual, with a genuine desire to show +his gratitude for her kindness; but there was no answering warmth in her +voice, and, not for the first time, he felt chilled by her lack of +response. + +"I'm glad they liked them." Her tone was perfunctory. "But I'm afraid +the gratitude is not due to me. It was my small daughter who was fired +to enthusiasm by something Tochatti told her, and insisted on cutting +the daffodils herself." + +"I see." In spite of himself Anstice felt repulsed by her manner, which, +made his warmly spoken gratitude appear superfluous. "Well, in any case +the result is the same--delight in the wards and something beautiful and +fragrant to lighten the children's sufferings." + +"Pray tell Cherry--she will be pleased." Possibly Mrs. Carstairs had +noted the stiffness of his speech, and in her languid way desired to +soothe his feelings. "I forget if you have seen my little daughter. I +must introduce you to her--and----" she turned to the young girl who +stood by and laid a hand on her arm--"to her friend--and mine." + +Anstice glanced towards the two who still stood, hand-in-hand, on the +top step, and Mrs. Carstairs performed the ceremony of introduction in +the deep, rich voice which was somehow part of her personality. + +"Iris, let me introduce Dr. Anstice ... Miss Wayne." + +Anstice bowed, but the girl held out her hand with a youthful +friendliness which was attractive. + +"How d'you do? I'm glad I didn't know your car was behind me as we came +up the avenue. I don't mind what I meet, but I always hate things coming +up behind my cycle," she said pleasantly. + +"If you are in the habit of giving such youthful passengers rides I +don't wonder you're nervous," he replied; and the girl opened her grey +eyes widely. + +"Nervous! I'm not!" She spoke indignantly. "But when your allowance is +strictly limited, and you have to pay for repairs yourself, you don't +want people running into you from the back and perhaps smashing up your +pet Douglas!" + +"I see." He smiled discreetly, and Mrs. Carstairs claimed his attention +once more. + +"And this"--she drew the child forward--"is Cherry." + +"How are you?" Anstice, who was always polite to children, shook hands, +and the child looked at him with a pair of very clear brown eyes. + +"Quite well, thank you, my dear," she responded gravely, and Iris Wayne +was secretly much diverted by the expression of astonishment which this +form of address evoked in the face of the hearer. + +"You like motoring?" Anstice felt constrained to keep up the +conversation, and Cherry nodded calmly. + +"Very much, my dear. Do you?" + +"Yes...." Anstice experienced an overwhelming desire to repeat her +endearing term, but luckily refrained. "This is my car--will you come +for a ride with me one day?" + +For a second Cherry regarded him with a pensive courtesy which was +almost embarrassing. Then: + +"With pleasure, my dear," she replied, and Iris laughed outright. + +"You fickle child! And you have always declared you liked my motor +better than any car that ever was seen!" + +"So I do." Cherry looked up at her with unsmiling gravity. "But----" + +"But now you must all come in and have lunch." Mrs. Carstairs turned to +Anstice. "Dr. Anstice, you can spare us a little time, can't you? Lunch +is quite ready, and Cherry, I'm sure, endorses my invitation!" + +He hesitated, torn between a desire to accept and an uncomfortable +suspicion that he could not afford the time. + +"You will have to lunch somewhere, you know!" Her manner was a trifle +warmer than usual. "And it will really save time to do it here!" + +"My lunch is a very hurried affair as a rule," he said, smiling. "But if +I may run away as soon as I've finished I'll be delighted to stay." + +He felt a small hand slip into his as he spoke, and looked down, to meet +Cherry's clear eyes. + +"Do stay, my dear!" Her tone was a quaint imitation of her mother's, and +before the twofold invitation Anstice's scruples were put to flight. + +"I'll stay with pleasure," he said, patting the kind little hand; and +with an air of satisfaction Cherry led him into the hall, her mother and +Miss Wayne following their lead. + +Once seated at the pretty round table, sweet with the fragrance of +hyacinths in a big Swansea bowl, and bright with silver and glass, +Anstice owned inwardly to a feeling of pleasure at his position. +Although as a rule he loved his solitude, welcomed the silence of the +old panelled house he had taken in Littlefield, and shunned those of his +kind who had no direct need of his services, there were times when his +self-sought loneliness weighed heavily upon his spirit, when the ghosts +of the past, whose shrouded forms were ever present to remind him that +he had made a fatal mistake on that bygone morning in India, were but +poor company. + +At first, during that first haunted year, when Hilda Ryder's face was +ever before his eyes, her sad and tender accents in his ear, he had +sought many and dubious ways of laying those same ghosts. It had seemed +to him, during those dreadful days, that although some instinct within +him forbade him to end his own life, none could doubt his right to +alleviate his mental suffering by any means he knew; and when temporary +oblivion, a blessed forgetfulness, could be purchased at the price of a +pinprick, it seemed not only overscrupulous but foolish to forgo that +Nirvana. + +But that indulgence, too, had nearly ended in disaster; and for the last +two years his only use for the alluring drug had been to alleviate the +pain of others. Yet the struggle was a hard one; and he wondered +sometimes, rather hopelessly, if he would have the strength to continue +it to the bitter end. + +But to-day, sitting in the pretty room, with the sun pouring in through +the casement windows, widely opened to the green garden beyond, Anstice +owned that for once life seemed to be in harmony with the beautiful +spring world around. + +As for Iris Wayne, he told himself presently that he had rarely seen a +prettier girl! Although at present his admiration was quite impersonal, +it was none the less sincere; and his approval of her grey eyes, set +widely apart beneath her crown of sunny hair, of the delicately rounded +face, the frank mouth, which disclosed teeth as white as milk, was +enhanced by the fact that every line, every tint spoke of flawless +health and a mind attuned to the simple, gracious things of life rather +than those which are complex and hard to comprehend. + +Looking from Iris, bright-eyed and alert, to Chloe, sitting at the head +of her table in a white cloth gown which somehow looked elaborate in +spite of its utter simplicity, Anstice was struck by the contrast +between them. Although the difference in their actual ages was not +great, they might well have been at different stages of life. For all +her youth, all her grace, her black and white distinction, Chloe was a +woman, and no one looking at her would have doubted that to her had come +some of the most vital moments of a woman's life. But Iris Wayne was +only a girl, an untried warrior in the battle of existence. The glance +of her large and radiant eyes was far more akin to that of the child +Cherry's brown orbs than to the serious, rather cynical regard which +habitually dwelt in Mrs. Carstairs' sapphire-blue eyes; and in every +look, every word, was the delicious freshness of a joyous youth. Yet he +fancied there was something in the curve of her lips, in the shape of +her head, which betokened strength of character as well as lightness of +heart. He fancied that her mouth could be tender as well as gay, that +her eyes might one day look into the eyes of a man with a promise in +their depths of strong and steadfast womanhood. + +It chanced presently that Anstice was offered some strawberries, +floating in a delicious-looking syrup; and a glance at his hostess +betrayed his half-humorous perplexity. + +"I know it isn't the right season for strawberries," said Mrs. Carstairs +with a smile. "But these are some of our own, bottled by a famous method +of Tochatti's. Do try them and give us your opinion." + +Anstice complied; and found them excellent. + +"They are delicious," he said, "and bring summer very close. Don't you +like them?" he asked Cherry, who was demurely nibbling a macaroon. + +"No thank you, my dear," replied Cherry gravely. "They give me a pain in +my head." + +"Oh, do they?" Anstice was nonplussed by this extraordinary assertion, +the grounds for which were not borne out by such medical skill as he +possessed; but chancing to look across the table at Iris Wayne he found +her dimpling deliciously at his perplexity. + +"You look puzzled, Dr. Anstice!" She laughed outright. "You see you +don't understand how it happens that a pain in the head is connected +with strawberries!" + +"I don't," he said, "but if you will kindly explain----" + +"May I, Cherry?" She looked at the child with a mischievous sparkle in +her eyes, and Cherry nodded. + +"If you like, my dear. But _I_ think it's rather a silly story." + +Notwithstanding this expression of opinion Iris entered forthwith into +an explanation. + +"You see, Dr. Anstice, Cherry came to stay with me last summer when the +strawberries were ripe; and seeing the bed covered with netting--to keep +off the birds"--she smiled--"she thought it very hard that the poor +little things should not have their share." + +"You had heaps and heaps for yourself," came a reproachful voice from +the bottom of the table where Cherry sat in state. + +"Certainly--until you came on the scene, Cherry Ripe! Well, Dr. Anstice, +to cut a long story short, Cherry thought us so selfish and cruel to +prevent the poor birds sharing our fruit that she slipped into the +kitchen garden one very hot morning, and devoted a good hour to taking +up the netting--with the result that the stooping down with the sun +beating on her head gave her a touch of sunstroke." + +"You forget I had eaten a few strawberries--just to encourage the +birdies." Evidently Cherry liked accuracy in any statement, even when it +militated against herself. + +"Well, whether it was the sun or the strawberries, the fact remains +Cherry was in bed for three days, and since then strawberries are +_tabu_. Isn't it so, Mrs. Carstairs?" + +"Yes, Iris." Chloe's voice was more weary than usual, as though the +subject did not interest her; and suddenly Anstice remembered that +during the previous summer she had been shut away from the beautiful +world of sun and strawberries and roses red and white.... + +A moment later Chloe rose from the table; and Anstice stole a look at +his watch as they passed into the hall. + +As though she divined his action Chloe turned to him. + +"You will spare time for a cup of coffee? We have not lingered over our +lunch." + +Anstice hesitated, and Cherry again added her entreaties to the +invitation. + +"Do stay a little longer, my dear. Iris will have to go in a minute, but +I want her to sing me a song first." + +"Do you sing, Miss Wayne?" Looking at her firm round throat and deep +chest he thought it possible she sang well. + +"Yes." She shook her head at Cherry. "But how can I sing after meringues +and strawberries, you bad child?" + +"You always say that," returned Cherry placidly. "And then you sing most +bee-autifully!" + +Iris coloured at this obviously genuine compliment and Anstice laughed +outright. + +"After that testimonial, Miss Wayne, I hope you don't expect me to run +away without hearing you!" He turned to his hostess. "I will stay for a +cup of coffee with pleasure, Mrs. Carstairs, and you will persuade Miss +Wayne to sing, won't you?" + +"Certainly." They were in the cool, hyacinth-scented drawing-room by +now, and Chloe drew the girl towards the grand piano which stood by one +of the big latticed windows. "Sing to us at once, Iris, before you have +your coffee. Will you?" + +"Of course I will." She seated herself as she spoke. "What shall it be? +Cherry, you know all my songs. What do you want to-day?" + +After due consideration Cherry gave her verdict for "the song about the +lady in the wood;" and although both Mrs. Carstairs and Iris rallied her +on the mournfulness of her choice, Cherry stuck to her guns; and to +judge from the rapt expression in her big brown eyes as the singer +prophesied the lonely and tragic fate of poor unhappy Melisande, the +idea of that fate proved exquisitely soothing to the youthful listener. + +Anstice's supposition had been correct. Iris Wayne could sing well. Her +voice, a clear mezzo-soprano, had been excellently trained, and in its +purity and flexibility gave promise of something exceptional when it +should have attained its full maturity. She accompanied herself +perfectly, in nowise hampered by the lack of any music; and when she had +brought the song to a close, Anstice was sincere in his request for +another. + +"I've just got some new songs," said Iris, twisting round on the stool +to face her hostess. "A book of Indian love-lyrics. Shall I sing you one +of those?" + +And without waiting for an answer she turned back and began to play an +accompaniment which subtly suggested the atmosphere of the East, +accentuated by the sound of the bells of some wayside Temple pealing +through the dusty, sun-baked land. + + "The Temple bells are ringing----" + +With the first line of the song Anstice was back in the hideous past, +back in the fatal Temple which had proved the antechamber to the halls +of Death ... he heard again the chatter of native voices, smelt the odd, +indescribable perfume of the East, felt the dread, the impotent horror +of that bygone adventure in the ruined Temple of Alostan.... + +The drawing-room in which he sat, bright with chintz, sweet with the +fragrance of hyacinths, faded away; and he saw again the dimly lighted +hut in which he and Hilda Ryder had spent that last dreadful night. He +heard her voice imploring him to kill her before the men should rush in +upon them, saw the anguish in her eyes as she understood that no help +was forthcoming from the world without; and he knew again the great and +unavailing remorse which had filled his soul when he realized that Hilda +Ryder had died too soon.... + +When the song ended he rose abruptly, and Chloe was startled by the +change in his manner. + +"I must really say good-bye, Mrs. Carstairs." He had not touched his +coffee. "Many thanks for your hospitality." He shook hands with her and +turned to Iris with something of an effort. "And many thanks for your +songs, Miss Wayne." He tried to smile as they exchanged a handshake, but +the attempt was a failure. + +"I'll come to the steps with you, my dear," volunteered Cherry politely, +and without further leave-taking Anstice went out into the hall, seized +his hat, and stumbled towards the door, half-blinded by the pain of that +terribly acute inward vision. + +He took leave of Cherry with a hasty courtesy which would have hurt some +children, but was not displeasing to the stately Cherry; and three +minutes later he was driving down the avenue at a furious pace, in a +vain endeavour to outstrip the phantoms which a girl's careless song had +evoked from their place in the background of his thoughts. + + * * * * * + +After his abrupt departure Iris turned impulsively to her hostess. + +"Mrs. Carstairs"--her voice was disturbed--"what was wrong with Dr. +Anstice just now? Did my singing displease him? He got up and went +so--so unexpectedly." + +For a moment Chloe said nothing. Then: + +"Don't you think you are rather too imaginative, Iris? Probably Dr. +Anstice remembered some urgent case, and thought he ought to go at +once." + +"No. I don't think that was it." Iris sank down on to the cushioned +window-seat and gazed thoughtfully ahead. "I think----I wonder if that +last song could have any associations for him? Has he been in India?" + +"I don't know." Chloe smiled faintly. "You must ask him, Iris. I suppose +your father would send for him if he were ill, wouldn't he, now that Dr. +Meade is really gone?" + +"I suppose so." Iris spoke rather dreamily. "At first I thought he was +quite old--at least forty," said the schoolgirl. "And then, when he +talked to Cherry I was not really sure. I guessed he might be worried +about professional things and look older than he was. And now----" + +She broke off, and for a moment Chloe Carstairs made no rejoinder, +though her blue, almond-shaped eyes held a slightly quizzical +expression. + +"And now"--she said at length--"what is your opinion now?" + +"Now"--Iris spoke very slowly, and in her eyes was something of the +womanly tenderness and strength whose possibility Anstice had +divined--"I think he has the very saddest face I have ever seen in my +life." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Anstice was destined to renew his acquaintance with Iris Wayne sooner +than he had anticipated. + +On the Sunday afternoon following the little luncheon party at Cherry +Orchard, he was tramping, pipe in mouth, over the golf-links when he saw +her ahead of him, in company with an elderly gentleman whom he guessed +must be her father. + +She had just holed her ball by a deft stroke, and as he approached +Anstice heard her utter an exultant exclamation. + +"Very good, my dear." Her companion patted her arm. "A little more care +and you will make quite a fair player." + +"Fair player indeed!" Iris tossed her curly head disdainfully. "I'd have +you know I can beat _you_ anyway, Daddy!" + +As she spoke she recognized the approaching figure and her frank smile +flashed out. + +"Dr. Anstice--are you playing too?" + +"No, Miss Wayne." He advanced and shook hands. "I'm taking my Sunday +afternoon tramp. It's the only chance I get of walking in the week." + +"Daddy, this is Dr. Anstice." Iris turned to the elderly man. "My +father," she explained casually to Anstice, and Sir Richard Wayne held +out his hand with a smile. + +"You're not a golfer, Dr. Anstice?" Sir Richard was keen on the game. + +"No, sir. I used to be a footballer in my hospital days, but"--for a +second he hesitated--"I have had no time lately for any kind of +game----" + +"Well, golf's a grand game for an old buffer like me"--Sir Richard was a +hale and well-set-up man who could afford to make such speeches--"but I +daresay you younger men like something a bit more strenuous. My daughter +here only plays with me now and then as a concession--she prefers +tennis, or flying about on that precious motor-cycle of hers." + +"Well, judging from what I have seen of Miss Wayne's riding I should say +she is a very expert motor-cyclist," said Anstice; and Sir Richard +nodded. + +"Oh, she rides all right," he owned, "and she bothered me to such an +extent that I simply had to give in to her. But it wasn't until she had +been 'run in' for exceeding the speed limit in one of my cars and I'd +had to sentence her from the Bench in my magisterial capacity that I did +give in and buy her a Douglas." + +"He fined me twenty shillings and costs!" Iris spoke with mock +indignation. "How's that for meanness to your only daughter?" + +"And paid the fine out of my own pocket--don't forget that!" Sir Richard +chuckled. "Well, Dr. Anstice, if you're not in a hurry, walk round with +us, will you? You aren't busy on a Sunday afternoon, I suppose?" + +"Well, not very." In spite of himself Anstice felt a strange reluctance +to part from his new friends. "I was going for a walk, as you see, and +if I may come with you----" + +So it fell out that for the first Sunday since he had arrived in +Littlefield Anstice's walk was no solitary stroll, companioned only by +his own moody or rebellious thoughts, but a pleasant interlude in a life +which in spite of incessant and often engrossing work, was on the whole +a joyless one. + +This afternoon Iris Wayne looked little more than a schoolgirl in her +short skirt and brightly coloured jersey, a cap pulled well down over +her curls, which nevertheless rioted over her forehead in entrancing +confusion. It was very evident that she and her father were on the best +of terms; and if, as seemed probable, Sir Richard was proud of his +pretty daughter, it was no less certain that she, on her side, thought +her father the most wonderful of men. + +The trio chatted pleasantly as they crossed the sunny golf links, and +Sir Richard told himself that his impressions of this man, gathered from +hasty visions of him about the village, or from the chatter of the +countryside, impressions which had labelled him as a morose, sullen kind +of fellow, had certainly been fallacious. + +Reserved he might be; but although his manner was quiet and his smile a +trifle sad, there was nothing morose about him to-day; and if his +conversation was not particularly brilliant Sir Richard thought none the +worse of him for that. + +So pleased, indeed, was he with his new acquaintance that when they +reached the Club House on the return journey he pressed the young man to +accompany them home for a cup of tea. + +"I'm sure your patients must cease from troubling on a Sunday afternoon +at any rate," he said genially, "and you haven't anyone waiting for you +at home, have you?" + +With a rather melancholy smile Anstice admitted that there was no one +waiting for him at home; and since Iris seconded her father's invitation +with a kind little entreaty on her own account, he accepted their joint +hospitality without further demur. + +Greengates, the home of the Waynes, was a stately old house, more +dignified, though perhaps less charming, than the fascinating Cherry +Orchard; but its very dignity gave charm; and it formed a by no means +incongruous background for this youngest and prettiest of its daughters. +For all her youth and high spirits, Iris seemed to fit into the place as +one born to it; and when she tossed aside her cap and sat down behind +the massive silver tea-tray, her gold-brown curls shone against the oak +panelling of the walls as the wild daffodils gleam golden against the +massive brown trunks of the trees in whose shade they grow. + +Lady Wayne had been dead for many years; and although Anstice gathered, +from casual conversation between father and daughter, that a certain +Aunt Laura made her home with them as a rule, it appeared that she was +at present travelling in Switzerland, leaving Iris mistress of +Greengates in her absence. + +"I confess Iris and I rather enjoy a week or two to ourselves!" Sir +Richard's eyes twinkled. "My sister is a thoroughly good sort, but she +loves to manage people; and Iris and I are both of us constitutionally +averse to being managed!" + +"I manage Daddy without him knowing it," said Iris loftily; and Anstice +could not refrain from an impulse to tease her a little. + +"That is very clever of you, Miss Wayne," he said gravely, "and I'm sure +your management must be most tactful. But--if you'll excuse me +suggesting it--wouldn't it be cleverer still of you if you refrained +from hinting as much to your father?" + +"You mean the really clever women never let the men know they're doing +it?" Her grey eyes laughed into his. "You are quite right, of +course--but then I don't pretend to be clever. I don't think clever +people--clever women, anyway--are ever happy." + +"Don't you?" Somehow Anstice felt extraordinarily interested in the +views of this very youthful woman. "May I be allowed to know what has +driven you to that conclusion?" + +"Oh, it's not exactly my own." Iris' eyes were honest as well as gay. +"It was something Mrs. Carstairs said to me one day. _She_ is clever, +you know--but her life has been made very unhappy." + +Anstice, who had already wondered how much of Chloe Carstairs' history +was known to the Waynes, glanced involuntarily at Sir Richard as Iris +spoke the last words; and in the elder man's eyes he thought he saw a +hint of trouble. + +"I should judge Mrs. Carstairs to be a well-read woman," he said, +endeavouring to change the subject while ostensibly pursuing it. "She +has a good many books about her, though of course nothing like your +collection here." + +He glanced at the walls as he spoke, and Sir Richard took up the new +topic easily. + +"I don't know whether you are a reader, Dr. Anstice," he said, "but if +so, and you're short of reading matter, don't hesitate to borrow some of +our books. We've all sorts, eh, Iris?" + +"Thanks very much. I'm not a great reader--haven't time; but your books +look rather alluring," said Anstice, with a smile. + +"We'll have a look round after tea," returned his host. "In the meantime +pass your cup--this weather makes one thirsty." + +After tea he rose and invited the younger man to scrutinize the shelves. +Somewhat to his surprise Anstice found that the Greengates collection of +books was a most comprehensive one, whole sections being devoted to +science, biography, travel and so on; and he was fortunate enough to +discover two recent biological works, which, owing to their somewhat +prohibitive price, he had hitherto been unable to obtain. + +"Like to borrow those tomes?" Sir Richard had noted the expression in +his guest's face as he handled the volumes. "Well, take them, and +anything else you like. No, I confess I don't care much about books +myself. Most of these were my father's choice--he was a bit of a student +in his later years, and my sister likes to keep up with the times and +lets the booksellers send down books as they used to do. But you're +welcome to any of 'em, I assure you." + +He led his guest round the room, pointing out one or two favourites of +his own; and while they were thus engaged, Iris, who had been feeding +three lively Airedales with scraps of cake, came up to Anstice with +outstretched hand. + +"Will you excuse me, Dr. Anstice? I must go and get ready for church--we +have service early here, you know." + +Immediately Anstice attempted to take his own departure, fearing he had +outstayed his welcome; but Sir Richard positively refused to let him go. + +"No, no, don't hurry away. Stay and keep me company for a little +while--my man can easily run you over in the car presently." + +So it came about that after watching Iris' departure the two men turned +back into the house, where Sir Richard led his visitor to his own cosy +smoking-room and handed him a cigar. + +"Light up," he said genially, "and try that chair. Dr. Anstice, now that +my little girl has left us, I want to say something to you--to ask you a +question, in fact." + +Rather taken aback, Anstice expressed his willingness to answer any +questions his host thought fit to ask; and Sir Richard plunged at once +into the heart of the matter. + +"I understand from Iris that you have been attending the lady living at +Cherry Orchard. Oh!"--as Anstice's eyebrows rose--"I'm not asking you to +violate professional secrecy. I only wished to be sure that you knew the +true position of Mrs. Carstairs in this neighbourhood." + +A moment's reflection showed Anstice that this man would hardly be +likely to permit his young daughter to visit Cherry Orchard unless his +opinion of Mrs. Carstairs were favourable; and his voice was +non-committal as he answered. + +"I have heard Mrs. Carstairs' story from her own lips, Sir Richard. She +was good enough to relate it to me at an early stage of our +acquaintance," he said; and this time it was the other man's eyebrows +which betokened surprise. + +"Indeed! I didn't expect that, or I would not have spoken. I thought you +had probably heard a garbled account of the whole horrible affair from +some of the Pharisees down here; and since I and my daughter are +honoured by Mrs. Carstairs' friendship I wanted to be sure you didn't +allow the weight of local opinion to prejudice you in any way." + +"It's awfully good of you." For once Anstice spoke spontaneously, as he +might have spoken before that fatal day which had changed him into +another and a less impulsive person. "I may take it, then, that you and +Miss Wayne believe in Mrs. Carstairs?" + +"I believe in her as I'd believe in my own girl," returned Sir Richard +emphatically. "Mind you, Chloe Carstairs isn't perfect--we none of us +are. She has her faults--now. She's cynical and cold, a bit of a +_poseuse_--that marble manner of hers is artificial, I verily +believe--but I'm prepared to swear she had nothing to do with those vile +letters." + +"You have known her long?" + +"Since she was a child. Her father was one of my best friends, and I +knew Chloe when she was a tiny baby girl all tied up with blue ribbons. +Carstairs met her first at my people's place in Surrey, and I was really +pleased when he married the girl and brought her here." + +"They lived here after their marriage?" + +"Yes, for a short time only. Then they were off to India, and there they +remained till her child was born, and she was faced with the old problem +of the woman who marries a soldier." + +"You mean--wife _versus_ mother?" + +"Yes. Upon my soul, Anstice, I can't understand how a woman ever decides +between the two claims. To hand over her baby to relations, or even +strangers, must be like tearing the heart out of her bosom, and yet a +woman wants her husband too--wants him especially when she is young--as +Chloe was." + +"Mrs. Carstairs decided for her child?" + +"Yes. They kept her in India as long as they dared--longer than some +people thought prudent--and then Chloe brought her home to the old +place. Iris was at school then, but Chloe used to come in to see my +sister and me frequently, and we congratulated ourselves that we'd got +such a pleasant neighbour. You know Cherry Orchard is really the nearest +house as the crow flies." + +"I suppose it is; though I hadn't realized it. And then--the crash +came?" + +"Yes. When first those horrible letters began to fly about the parish +they were put down as the work of some spiteful servant, dismissed for +dishonesty, perhaps. But little by little Mrs. Carstairs' name began to +be whispered in connection with them--no one knew how the rumour +started, though I have always held the belief that the Vicar's wife +herself was the first to suggest it." + +"But Mrs. Carstairs and the woman were friends?" + +"They had been--and in the first burst of friendship the foolish woman +had poured out all her silly, sordid secrets to Chloe Carstairs, and +then, possibly, repented having done so. They fell out, you see, and I +suppose Mrs. Ogden, being a woman of a small and petty character +herself, was only too ready to suspect her former friend. She swore, you +know, that no one but Chloe could have known some of the details which +were mentioned in the letters. I can't tell you how vile the whole thing +was--and it was quite evidently the intention of the anonymous writer to +drive Mrs. Ogden out of the parish by those libellous documents." + +"But the matter was thoroughly sifted? And there could be no evidence +against Mrs. Carstairs?" + +"Well, when things had gone on for some time in a desultory kind of +fashion--a letter here, another there, and then an interval of a few +weeks--there came a perfect avalanche of the things, and the Vicar, +although he had really wished to hush the matter up, was advised to take +steps to find out the culprit." + +"Even then I don't see how Mrs. Carstairs could be suspected----" + +"Well, in a matter of this kind, when once a woman's name has been +mentioned, it is very hard for her to clear herself. At first, guided, I +confess, by me, she refused to take any notice of the affair. In the +end, of course, she had to come forward to clear herself of a specific +charge." + +"But what weight had the evidence against her?" + +"Well, certain curious things happened. It was found that the letters +were all written on a particular kind of paper affected by Mrs. +Carstairs for scribbling unimportant notes--household orders and so +on--not by any means an uncommon paper, but still she was the only +person in the village who bought it regularly. Then the handwriting, +though it was scratchy and common-looking, did bear, in some words, a +faint, very faint resemblance to hers; and once, when Chloe was away on +a visit to Brighton, a letter came to the owner of Carr Hall, in the +valley yonder, which had been posted at Hove. Then, as she may have told +you, a trap was laid for her by some of the damned authorities"--he +spoke heatedly--"she was supplied with marked paper; and sure enough the +next letter which arrived was written on one of those identical sheets." + +"But the servants--her servants would have had access to her paper?" + +"Quite so; and that point was made much of by the defence. But when all +the household was examined, it didn't seem a feasible theory that any of +them was to blame." + +"How many servants were there in the house?" Unconsciously Anstice's +manner was that of a doctor interrogating a patient, and Sir Richard +noted the fact with a quickly suppressed flicker of amusement. + +"Four only. During Major Carstairs' absence Mrs. Carstairs wished to +live quietly; and her staff consisted of a cook--a young Frenchman whose +life Major Carstairs had once saved in a drunken brawl in Soho----" + +"A Frenchman, eh?" Anstice habitually distrusted foreigners. "Mightn't +he have been the guilty person?" + +"He only knew enough English to discuss the _menu_ with his mistress," +answered Sir Richard. "Chloe used to make us laugh by relating his +mistakes; and even if he had wished to write the letters he could not +possibly have done it. Besides, he returned to France for his military +training in the very middle of all this, so he really can't be +suspected." + +"Well." In fairness Anstice could not condemn the Frenchman. "Who else +was in the house?" + +"A middle-aged housemaid who had lived with the Carstairs' all her life, +and whose character was quite above suspicion. As a matter of course her +writing was compared with that of the letters and was proved to have +none of the characteristics of the anonymous handwriting. For another +thing her sight was bad, and she couldn't write straight to save her +life." + +"I see. And what of the other two?" + +"One was a pretty young girl who acted as maid to Mrs. Carstairs +herself; and I admit at first it seemed that she was the most likely +person to have been mixed up in the affair; for she was a flighty minx +who wasn't too particular about her behaviour, and was generally engaged +to two or three young men at once." + +"Well?" From Sir Richard's manner Anstice gathered that there was no +case against the pretty young minx; and the next words confirmed his +supposition. + +"Sad to say the poor girl caught a chill and died of pneumonia after +only five days' illness, during which time the letter-writer was +particularly active; and as the communications continued after her +death, she must be counted out." + +"Well," said Anstice, "that accounts for three of them. What about the +fourth?" + +"The fourth was an old servant of the other side of the family--Chloe's +family--the woman they call Tochatti, who lives there still. She's half +Italian, though she's lived the greater part of her life in England. +Chloe's mother picked her up on her honeymoon, and she was Chloe's +nurse. She has been a most devoted servant all the time, and I would +almost as soon suspect Chloe herself as suspect the poor woman of +working any harm to her adored young mistress." + +Remembering the woman's solicitude on the occasion of his first visit to +Cherry Orchard, Anstice was compelled to admit it was unlikely she was +the culprit; and his impression was deepened by Sir Richard's next +speech. + +"As a matter of fact, it came out that the poor old thing couldn't even +write her name. The other woman, Janet, was what she called a 'poor +scollard', but Tochatti went one better, for she could neither write nor +read. It appeared they had often teased her about it, and she had +frequently flown into a rage when the other servants poked fun at her; +but she certainly scored in the end!" + +"Well, that disposes of the household," said Anstice rather regretfully. +"But what about outdoor workers--gardeners and so forth?" + +"There was only one gardener--and a boy--and neither could possibly have +had access to Chloe's writing-table; added to which they both left +Cherry Orchard during the critical time and took situations in different +parts of the county. So they too had to be counted out." + +"All this came out in court?" + +"Yes. You see, had the matter rested between the party libelled and the +libeller--if there is such a term--an action in the Civil Courts to +recover damages would have met the case. But owing to the fact that +practically everyone in the neighbourhood was victimized, and warnings, +almost amounting to threats, issued to the Ogden woman's friends to have +nothing more to do with her, the public were, so to speak, directly +affected; and it was in the interests of the public that, finally, +criminal proceedings were instituted." + +"And in the end an intelligent jury brought in a verdict of guilty?" + +"Yes. The case came on at Ripstone, five miles away, and of course +excited no end of interest locally. To give them their due, the jury +were very reluctant to bring in that verdict--but I assure you"--he +spoke weightily--"when I heard the other side marshalling their facts, +each one making the case look still blacker and more damning, I began to +be afraid. Yes, I confess it, I began to feel very much afraid." + +"And they brought her in guilty?" + +"Yes, and the Judge sentenced her. I don't like to accuse one of His +Majesty's judges of allowing his judgment to be prejudiced by personal +feeling," said Sir Richard slowly; "but it has always seemed to me that +Chloe's manner--her peculiarly detached, indifferent manner, as though +the case did not interest her vitally--was in some subtle fashion an +affront to the man. His remarks to her seemed to me unnecessarily +severe, and he certainly did not err on the side of leniency." + +"I should think not! Twelve months--why, it's an Eternity!" + +"What must it have seemed to that poor girl!" Sir Richard spoke +pitifully. "I used to fancy she would die in prison--I could not imagine +how she could support the life in there, in those degrading +surroundings. You know, not only had she been lapped in luxury, as they +say, all her life, but, more important still, she had been used to +boundless love and affection from all around her." + +"You find her much altered?" + +"Yes. I can't say exactly in what the alteration consists," returned Sir +Richard thoughtfully. "It's not merely a surface thing--the change goes +deeper than that. I called her _posee_ just now. Well, I don't know if +that's the right word. Sometimes I think that frozen manner of hers +isn't a pose after all, it's natural to her nowadays. She seems to be +literally turned to stone by all she's gone through. Where she used to +be all sympathy, all ardour, all life, now she's cold, frigid, +passionless. The girl's barely twenty-five, but upon my soul she might +be a woman of fifty for all the youth there is about her--except in her +looks, and there I believe she's handsomer than ever!" + +Anstice's cigar was smoked out; but there was one question he must ask +before he took his leave. + +"And her husband--Major Carstairs? He--I gather he was inclined to agree +with the verdict?" + +Sir Richard hesitated, and when he spoke there was a note of pain in his +voice. + +"I am sorry to say Carstairs could not bring himself to believe in his +wife's innocence. He was in India at the time, you know, and only got +home--on special leave--when the case was coming on. Heaven knows on +what grounds he bases his doubts of her. One would have thought it +impossible for a man to live with a woman like Chloe and not know her +incapable of the deed. But human nature is a strange thing----" He broke +off. + +"I understand they do not contemplate keeping house together for the +future?" Anstice hoped he was not appearing unduly curious, but Sir +Richard's manner invited interest. + +"No--though mind you, Carstairs has not left his wife because she was +unfortunate enough to be convicted and sent to prison. He's not that +sort. If he could have believed her innocent he would have stuck to her +through thick and thin. As it is he gives her the house, a large +allowance, which permits motor-cars and things of that kind, and since +he is known to be in India a good many people don't know they are really +living apart in a double sense." + +"Yet he can't believe in her?" + +"No--and that's why he will not live with her. In his own rather +peculiar way he has a remarkably high code of honour, and since he +genuinely believes her to be guilty it would doubtless be quite +impossible for him to live with her again." + +"I am rather surprised--seeing she must know his opinion of her--that +she condescends to live in his house and take his money," said Anstice, +voicing a question which had caused him a very real and acute wonder. + +"I'm glad you have raised that point," said Sir Richard quickly. "She +does it for the sake of the child, so that Cherry may have all the +advantages of wealth. Chloe herself has nothing and Carstairs is a rich +man; so it is an eminently proper arrangement, and in my opinion Chloe +behaved like a sensible woman in agreeing to it." + +He threw away his cigar, which had gone out as he talked. + +"No--what I wonder at is that Chloe should deliberately choose to come +back here where the whole story is known. It's not bravado, of that I'm +certain, but it beats me altogether how she can do it, for as you know +women can be uncommonly cruel sometimes, and these creatures here aren't +by any means charitably disposed towards her." + +"You allow Miss Wayne to visit her?" + +"Yes--and I welcome her to my house on the rare occasions she honours me +by entering it," said Sir Richard with evident sincerity; and Anstice +felt oddly gratified by the other man's speech. + +A clock striking seven brought him to his feet in genuine dismay. + +"Seven o'clock! I'd no idea it was so late! Pray excuse me inflicting +myself on you all this time." + +"Must you go?" Sir Richard rose too, and stood regarding the tall, +loosely built figure with something like admiration. "Well, you're a +busy man, I know; and if you really must go I'll not detain you. But +you'll come in again, won't you? Come to dinner--Iris shall send you a +note--and drop in for a smoke any evening you're at liberty." + +The invitation so heartily given was accepted with a pleasure to which +Anstice had long been a stranger; and then he said good-bye to his kind +host and left Greengates feeling that he had found two unexpectedly +congenial friends in Iris Wayne and her father. + +He had been deeply, genuinely interested in Sir Richard's story, that +unhappy story in which Chloe Carstairs figured so tragically; yet as he +made his way homewards between the blossoming hedgerows his mind dwelt +upon another woman, a younger, happier woman than the pale mistress of +Cherry Orchard. And the face which floated before his eyes in the +starlit spring dusk was the laughing, grey-eyed face of Iris Wayne. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +As the weeks passed Anstice's acquaintance with the Waynes ripened into +something which he found strangely pleasant. + +Although he had long ago decided that for him the simple human things of +life, friendship, social intercourse with the world of men and women, +were, since that bygone Indian morning, forbidden, even his acquired +misanthropy was not proof against the kindly advances made to him by Sir +Richard and his daughter. + +Busy as he was, he still found time to accept some of their invitations +to Greengates, and he and Sir Richard enjoyed a quiet chat over their +cigars now and again when by chance he had an evening to himself. + +On their side the Waynes found him, each in his and her own degree, an +agreeable companion. Sir Richard approved of his quiet and reserved +manner, and was not inclined to quarrel with his occasional fits of +moodiness--for there were times when the ghosts which haunted him +refused to be exorcised, and Anstice felt himself unfit, by reason of +the handicap which Fate had imposed upon him, to mingle with the happy, +the careless, the innocent ones of the earth. + +To Sir Richard, kind-hearted, uncritical, undiscerning, such fits of +silence, even of gloom, were natural enough in a man whose life was +spent largely in the service of the sick and suffering among humanity. +He was probably worried over some difficult case, Sir Richard concluded, +when he found the younger man's conversation halting, his manner absent, +or, on rare occasions, morose; and it must be noted that as a rule +Anstice had too much respect for his friends to inflict these moods upon +them. As for Iris, quicker of discernment than her father, of a more +analytical turn of mind, she guessed that the changing moods which +characterized her new acquaintance were not induced by any external or +professional worries, but were the marks of a trouble far more serious, +far more vital to the man himself. Of the nature of this trouble Iris +had naturally no very clear idea, though now and again she considered +the probability of him having been what she called, rather +school-girlishly, crossed in love. But though her phraseology might be +childish there was something purely womanly in the compassion with which +she thought of Anstice; and on one occasion when a fit of melancholy had +overcome him unexpectedly in her presence, he was startled, not to say +dismayed, to notice something of this half-tender, half-impersonal pity +in the soft, brooding glance of her eyes as they rested on him for a +moment. + +It was not with the Waynes alone that he grew more intimate as the days +went by. A short time after his introduction to Greengates Anstice +received a summons to Cherry Orchard, and on repairing thither found +that his patient on this occasion was Cherry Carstairs. With all her +demure dignity Cherry was at times possessed of a very spirit of +perversity; and being, although of such tender years, absolutely devoid +of fear, she had tried conclusions in secret with a shaggy pony in a +field close by her home, with the result that, owing to the pony's +stubborn refusal to allow her to climb upon his back, Cherry received a +kick, more in sorrow than in anger, which snapped the bone in her tiny +forearm, and sent her stumbling home, very pale and shaky, her dignity +sadly in abeyance, to seek her mother. + +Anstice, on arrival, soon had the small arm set and comfortably +bandaged; and once safely in bed, although more upset than she wished +anyone to imagine, Cherry regained her usual half-affectionate +half-patronizing manner, and insisted upon Anstice sitting down beside +her "for at least five minutes, my dear!" + +With a smile, Anstice sat down as requested; and Cherry instantly began +to question him on the subject of Greengates. + +"Isn't it a fassynating house, my dear?" Cherry never employed a short +word when she thought a long one fairly appropriate. "Have you seen +Iris' bedroom?--all done in white and purple and green--and irises +everywhere--on the walls and the curtains--just like a gorjus purple +iris what grows in the garden?" + +"No, I've not seen Miss Wayne's bedroom," owned Anstice rather hastily. +"But it couldn't be prettier than this--why, those bunches of cherries +on the wall are so life-like that I wonder the birds don't come in to +make a meal of them!" + +"Do you like them?" Cherry was openly gratified by his approval. "But I +wish you could see Iris' room. She always takes me there to wash my +hands and face, and the basin is all over irises too." + +"Fassynating" as these details of Miss Wayne's domestic arrangements +might be, Anstice judged it safer to switch his small patient on to +another topic; and in an animated discussion as to the proper age at +which a young lady might begin to ride a motor-bicycle--Cherry inclining +to seven, Anstice to seventeen years--the promised five minutes flew +swiftly away. + +"You'll come again, my dear?" Cherry's anxiety to ensure his attendance +was flattering, and he laughed and assured her he would visit her every +day if she desired it. + +As a matter of fact he did visit her with some regularity; for she +managed, with a perversity known only to imps of a like nature, to catch +a severe chill which puzzled her attendants, none of them knowing of a +certain feverishly delightful ten minutes spent in hanging out of the +window holding an interesting conversation with the gardener's boy below +on the subject of broken bones. In any case, Anstice found it necessary +to call at Cherry Orchard on several consecutive days; and during the +child's illness and subsequent convalescence he was perforce obliged to +come into contact with Mrs. Carstairs herself. + +As a physiological study Chloe interested him strongly. Although she +appeared genuinely fond of her little daughter and waited on her night +and day with a solicitude which never varied, there was nothing in her +manner to denote passionate affection, nor did the child appear to +desire it. Even to Cherry her voice, rich and deep as it was, never +softened; and she rarely used an endearing term. Yet Cherry appeared to +be quite satisfied; and Anstice came to the conclusion that the child's +fine instinct was able to pierce behind this apparent coldness to the +warm human love which doubtless lay beneath. + +One fact about Mrs. Carstairs he was not slow in discovering. With the +exception of Iris Wayne and her father, Chloe appeared to be absolutely +devoid of friends, even of casual acquaintances. The Littlefield people, +who had been first surprised, then outraged, by her reappearance among +them, had long since decided that for them Cherry Orchard was _tabu_; +and although the Vicar, Mr. Carey, successor to the man whose wife had +raised the storm in which Chloe Carstairs' barque had come to shipwreck, +had called upon her, and endeavoured, in his gentle, courtly fashion, to +make her welcome, his parishioners had no intention of following his +example. + +That Mrs. Carstairs felt her isolation in a social sense Anstice did not +believe; but that she must feel very lonely at times, find the days very +long and empty, he felt pretty well assured. She was not an accomplished +woman in the usual sense of the word. He never found her playing the +piano, or painting water-colour pictures as did so many of the women ha +visited. She did not appear to care for needlework, and in spite of the +books scattered about the house, he rarely saw her reading; yet all the +while he had a feeling that had she desired to shine in any or all of +the arts peculiar to women she would have no difficulty in doing so. + +That she ordered her household excellently he knew from the glimpses he +had obtained of her domestic life; but there again she was assisted by a +staff of superior servants who all, from her personal attendant, the +devoted Tochatti, down to the boy who cleaned the knives, worshipped +their mistress with a wholehearted affection which held about it a touch +of something almost resembling fanaticism. + +One day Anstice did find her with a book in her hand; and on venturing +to inquire into its contents was informed it was a well-known _Treatise +on Chess_. + +"Do you play?" he asked, rather astonished, for in common with many men +he imagined chess to be almost purely a masculine pastime. + +"Yes--at least I used to play once," she admitted slowly. "I can't very +well indulge in a game nowadays. Even the grownup Cherry declines to +play, though I hope in time I may incite her to learn!" + +"I used to play--indifferently--once," Anstice said meditatively; and +Chloe looked at him with a faint smile. + +"Did you? Some day when you are not too busy will you drop in to tea and +play a game with me?" + +"I'd like to immensely." His tone was sincere, and Chloe's manner warmed +ever so little. + +"Can you stay now?" The hour was just on five; and Cherry, who had that +day been promoted to tea downstairs, seconded the invitation as usual +from her nest on the big Chesterfield. + +"Do stay, my dear, and I'll help you to move all the funny little men +and the castles!" + +Anstice could not refuse this double invitation; and after a hasty cup +of tea he and his hostess sat down to the board and set out the ancient +ivory chessmen which were so well suited to the pretty, old-fashioned +room in which the players sat. + +To Anstice's quite unjustifiable surprise Chloe Carstairs played an +admirable game. Her moves were clearly reasoned out, and she displayed a +quickness of thought, a brilliance of man[oe]uvre, which soon convinced +Anstice he was outplayed. + +At the end of fifteen minutes Chloe had vanquished him completely; and +while most of his men were reposing in the carved box at her elbow, the +ranks of her army were scarcely thinned. + +"I give in, Mrs. Carstairs!" He laughed and rose. "You won't think me +unsporting if I run away now? I'm beat hollow, and I know it, but if you +will condescend to play with me another day----" + +"I shall look forward to another game," she said serenely; and Anstice +departed, feeling he had been permitted to obtain another sidelight on +her somewhat complex character. + +Two days later he made another and rather disconcerting discovery, which +set him wondering afresh as to the real nature of the woman who, like +himself, had been the victim of a strangely vindictive fate. + +The day was Sunday, and Cherry had been permitted the indulgence of +breakfast in bed; so that Anstice interviewed his young patient in her +own pink-and-white nest, where, attended by the faithful Tochatti, she +gave herself innumerable airs and graces, but finally allowed him to +examine her small arm, which was now practically healed. + +"Mrs. Carstairs not up yet?" It was ten o'clock--but there was no sign +of Cherry's mother. + +"Yes, sir." Tochatti spoke slowly, her foreign accent more strongly +marked than usual. "My mistress has a slight headache and is in her own +room. She would like to see you before you go." + +Accordingly, after a prolonged parting from Cherry, who shamelessly +importuned him to neglect his other and less important patients, Anstice +accompanied Tochatti to Mrs. Carstairs' sitting-room where its owner +presumably awaited him. + +The room itself was in its way as uncommon as its occupant, being +furnished entirely in black and white. The walls were white, the carpet +black. The chairs and couches were upholstered in black-and-white +chintz, with a profusion of cushions of both hues, and the pictures on +the white walls were etchings in black oak frames. On the mantelpiece +was a collection of carved ivory toys of all kinds, with here and there +an ebony elephant from Ceylon or Assam. The paint on doors and windows +was black, yet in spite of the sombreness of the general scheme there +was nothing depressing, nothing sinister in the finished effect. + +Possibly because Chloe Carstairs was an artist--or a wise woman who knew +the value of relief--one note of colour was struck in the presence of a +huge china bowl filled with tulips of every conceivable shade of flame +and orange and yellow and red; but with that exception black and white +predominated, and when Chloe Carstairs rose from her low chair near the +window and advanced towards him, she, too, carried out the subtle +suggestion of the whole room. + +Dressed in white, her silky black hair and blue eyes the only bits of +colour about her, she looked paler than usual, and Anstice jumped to the +conclusion she had sent for him to prescribe for her. + +"Good morning, Dr. Anstice." Anstice, who hated shaking hands with most +people, always liked her firm, cool handshake. "How is Cherry? You find +her better?" + +"Yes, she is really quite herself again, and her arm has healed most +satisfactorily." He stood in front of her as he spoke, and studied her +face carefully. "But you don't look very fit, Mrs. Carstairs. Can I do +anything for you now that your little daughter has finished with me?" + +She looked at him with a smile which was more melancholy than usual. + +"I think not," she said slowly. "You see, I am not ill, only a little +tired--tired with remembering days that are gone." + +"Isn't that rather a fatal thing to do?" His own bitter memories gave +him the clue to her state of mind. "No good ever comes of remembering +sad things. I think the perfect memory would be one which would only +retain the happiness of life. You know the old motto found on many +sundials: 'I only record sunny hours.'" + +"I don't agree with you," she said quietly. "It's the shadows which give +value to the high lights, isn't it? And sometimes to remember dreadful +things is a happiness in itself, knowing they are gone for ever. I can +quite well bear to remember that horrible prison"--as always when +speaking of it, her lips whitened--"because no power on earth can ever +put me back there again." + +"I don't think it can do you any good to dwell on such memories," he +persisted. "If you are wise you will forget them. No wonder your head +aches if you dwell on such unpleasant things." + +She looked at him more fully, and in her eyes he read something which +baffled him. + +"You are quite right--and delightfully sane and sensible," she said. +"But as a matter of fact, I wasn't really thinking of the prison to-day. +You see, this is the anniversary of my wedding day, and my thoughts were +not altogether sad ones." + +He looked at her, nonplussed for the moment, and suddenly Chloe's face +softened. + +"Dr. Anstice, forgive me. The fact is, I had a bad night, and am all on +edge this morning." + +"Why do you sit in here?" asked Anstice abruptly. "It is a lovely +morning--the sun is warm and there's no wind. Why not go out into your +charming garden? Lie in a low chair and sleep--or read some amusing +book. Is this a particularly engrossing one?" + +He picked up the volume she had laid down at his entrance, and she +watched him with a faint hint of mockery in her blue eyes. His face +changed as he read the title. + +"De Quincey's _Confessions_! Mrs. Carstairs, you're not interested in +this sort of thing?" + +"Why not?" Her manner was ever so slightly antagonistic. "The subject is +a fascinating one, isn't it? I confess I've often felt inclined to try +opium--morphia or something of the sort, myself." + +"Morphia?" His voice startled her by its harshness. "Don't make a joke +of it, Mrs. Carstairs. If I thought you really meant that----" + +"But I do--or did." She spoke coolly. "I even went so far as to purchase +the means of indulging my fancy." + +"You did? But--forgive me--why?" + +"Don't we all sigh for oblivion now and then?" She put the question +calmly, looking him squarely in the face the while. "I have always +understood that morphia is one of the roads into Paradise--a Fool's +Paradise, no doubt, but we poor wretches can't always choose our +heavens." + +"Nor our hells!" He still spoke vehemently. "Yes, there are times in all +our lives when oblivion, forgetfulness, seems very desirable, very +alluring. But let me entreat you, Mrs. Carstairs, not to seek to enter +Paradise by that devil's key!" + +Her almond-shaped eyes grew still more narrow as she looked at him. + +"I wonder why you speak so impressively," she said slowly. "As a doctor +doubtless you are _au fait_ in the subject, yet your vehemence seems to +imply----" She paused. + +"As a doctor I've seen enough of the havoc the opium fiend plays in the +lives of men--and women," he said steadily, "to realize the danger that +lies in the insidious habit. I have seen women--women like you"--he had +no idea of sparing her--"young, of good position and all the rest of it, +who have slid into the deadly thing on the flimsiest of pretexts--and +then, too late, have realized they are bound--for life--with fetters +which cannot be broken." + +"Yet the deadly thing is fascinating, isn't it? Else why do so many fall +under its sway?" + +"Fascinating?" With an inward shudder Anstice recalled those months +after Hilda Ryder's death--those horrible, chaotic months when, in a +vain endeavour to stifle thought, to deaden remorse, he had invoked the +aid of the poppy, and by so doing had almost precipitated a moral +catastrophe which should have been more overwhelming than the first. +"For God's sake, Mrs. Carstairs, don't become obsessed by that idea. The +morphia habit is one degrading slavery of mind and body, and only the +miserable victims know how delusive are its promises, how unsatisfactory +its rewards. What can you expect from a cult whose highest reward--the +only thing, indeed, it has to offer you, is--oblivion?" + +Chloe Carstairs did not reply. Instead, she turned away and moved across +the room to a small black escritoire which stood against the white wall. +Bending down she opened it, and after pressing a spring, released what +appeared to be a secret drawer. From this she lifted out a little packet +wrapped in white paper and sealed with red wax, and holding it in her +hand she came slowly back to where Anstice stood, made vaguely +uncomfortable by her curious, almost secretive manner. + +"Dr. Anstice"--she held out the packet--"will you take charge of this +for me? It is the key--what you called the devil's key just now--to the +Paradise I have never had the courage to enter." + +Anstice took the little parcel from her with something of sternness in +his face. + +"Yes, Mrs. Carstairs. But what, exactly, is this thing?" + +"An hypodermic syringe and a supply of morphia," she informed him +tranquilly. Then, as he pursed his lips into an involuntary whistle, she +went on, with more than a hint of mockery in her manner: "Oh, I came by +it quite honestly, I assure you! I didn't steal it from a doctor's +surgery--I bought it at a chemist's shop in London." + +"You did?" + +"Yes, and I made the young man show me how to use it." She smiled rather +ironically. "Naturally I was ignorant in the matter, and I didn't want +to make a blunder in its use." + +"Really? Well, Mrs. Carstairs, this is your property, but I wish I might +persuade you to leave it in my keeping for the present." + +"You think it would be safer there?" She looked at him as though +considering the matter. "Well, I wonder?" + +"You wonder--what?" He spoke dryly. + +"Whether it _is_ safer with you. Of course, as a doctor you can get +plenty of your own----" + +"I shan't be tempted to steal yours for my private use," said Anstice a +trifle grimly; and the Fates who rule the lives of men probably smiled +to themselves over the fatuity of mankind. + +"Well, I gave it to you myself, so you may as well keep it," said Chloe +indifferently, as though already tired of the subject; and without more +ado Anstice slipped the little white packet into his pocket, and took +leave of its former owner before she had opportunity to change her mind +on the subject. + +He could not dismiss the figure of Chloe Carstairs from his thoughts as +he went about his day's work. Intuitively he knew that she was a +bitterly unhappy woman, that her life, like his own, had been rent in +two by a cataclysm of appalling magnitude, such as visits very few human +beings, and he told himself that this woman, too, had been down in the +depths even as he had been. And no man, no woman, who has once known the +blackness of the abyss, that "outer darkness" in which the soul sits +apart in a horror of loneliness, can ever view the world again with +quite the clear-eyed vision of the normal human being to whom, +fortunately for the sanity of the race, such appalling experiences are +mercifully unknown. + +On a morning a week later Anstice received a note from Mrs. Carstairs. + + "DEAR DR. ANSTICE," + + "My brother has unexpectedly written to offer himself for a couple + of nights, and I shall be pleased if you will come to dinner this + evening at half-past seven to meet him. I have invited Miss Wayne, + so please complete our quartette if you can." + + "Sincerely," + + "CHLOE CARSTAIRS." + +For some moments Anstice sat inwardly debating the question, the note in +his hand. + +He had no engagement for the evening. The people of Littlefield, +puzzled, perhaps a little piqued, by the aloofness of his manner, rarely +invited him to their houses in anything but his professional capacity, +though they called upon his services in and out of season; and Sir +Richard Wayne and Mr. Carey, the gentle, courtly Vicar of the parish, +were the only two men with whom he ever enjoyed an hour's quiet chat +over a soothing pipe or cigar. + +So that there was no reason why he should hesitate to accept Chloe +Carstairs' invitation for that particular evening, yet hesitate he did, +unaccountably; and when, after fifteen minutes indecision, he suddenly +scribbled and dispatched an acceptance, the messenger had barely gone +from his presence before he felt an unreasoning impulse to recall the +letter. + +What lay at the bottom of his strange reluctance to enjoy Chloe's +hospitality he had not the faintest notion. He had no special aversion +to meeting her brother, nor was he in any way reluctant to improve his +acquaintance with Iris Wayne.... Did his heart, indeed, beat just a +shade faster at the thought of meeting her? Yet something seemed to +whisper that this invitation was disastrous, that it would set in train +events which might be overwhelming in their sequence. + +He tried, vainly, to banish the faint premonition of evil which had +fallen upon him when he realized it was too late to recall his +acceptance. Throughout the day it persisted, and when at length he went +to his room to dress for the evening, he felt a strong inclination to +excuse himself over the telephone on the plea of an urgent call to whose +importance he could not turn a deaf ear. + +Such an excuse would, he knew, pass muster well enough. A doctor can +rarely be depended upon, socially, and when he was dressed he went +downstairs with the intention of ringing up Cherry Orchard and +regretting his inability to make a fourth at Mrs. Carstairs' +dinner-table that night. + +Yet at the last moment Fate, or that other Higher Power of which we know +too little to speak with any familiarity, intervened to restrain his +impulse, and with a muttered imprecation at his own unusual vacillation +he turned away from the telephone and went out to his waiting car +impatiently. + +Arriving at Cherry Orchard, the elderly manservant relieved him of his +coat with a deferential smile. + +"I think I'm a little late, Hagyard." Anstice glanced at the grandfather +clock in the corner. "Or perhaps your clock's a bit forward." + +"I daresay it is, sir." Hagyard accepted the suggestion with +well-trained alacrity. "Miss Wayne has only been here a moment or two." + +He threw open the door as he spoke and Anstice entered the drawing-room +with a sudden unwelcome return of his premonition strong upon him. + +Yet the room, with its shaded lamps, small wood-fire, and latticed +windows open to the sweet spring twilight, looked peaceful enough. As +usual there were masses of flowers about, tulips, narcissi, anemones; +and the atmosphere was fragrant as Anstice went forward to greet his +hostess, who stood by one of the casements with her guests beside her. + +She came towards him with her usual slow step, which never, for all its +deliberation, suggested the languor of ill-health; and as he began to +apologize for his late arrival she smiled away his apologies. + +"You're not really late, Dr. Anstice, and in any case we should have +given you a few minutes' grace." + +She stood aside for him to greet Iris, and as he shook hands with the +girl Anstice's heart gave a sudden throb of pleasure, which, for the +moment, almost succeeded in banishing that uncanny premonition of evil +which had come with him to the very gates of Cherry Orchard. + +She was very simply dressed in a frock of filmy grey-green chiffon whose +colour reminded him of the spiky leaves of a carnation; but he had never +seen her look prettier than on that mild spring night; and his eyes +unconsciously softened as they dwelt upon her face for one fleeting +moment. + +Then as Chloe's soft, deep voice, introducing her brother, stole on his +ear, he turned to greet the other man; and instantly he realized, too +late, the meaning of that presentiment of ill which had haunted him all +day; understood why the inner, spiritual part of him had bidden him +refuse Chloe Carstairs' invitation to Cherry Orchard that night. + +For the man who turned leisurely from the window to greet the new-comer +was the man whom he had last seen in a green-walled bedroom in an Indian +hotel, the man whom, by a tragic error, he had robbed of the woman he +loved, from whom he had parted with a mutual hope that their paths in +life might never cross again. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Carstairs' brother was the man whom Hilda Ryder had loved, Bruce +Cheniston himself. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +As a rule the psychological moments of life come and go so quietly that +their passing attracts little notice. Quite minor happenings give rise +to demonstrations of excitement, of joy, of loudly voiced approbation or +disappointment. But the moments which really matter in a life, which +mark an epoch or destroy a dream, pass as a rule so quietly that only +those whose dreams are shattered, or whose lives have been touched with +the glory of the immortal, know that for a brief instant Time has become +interchangeable with Eternity; that in the space of sixty fleeting +seconds whole cycles of life have been lived through, and a vast and +yawning gulf, in thought, in feeling, in spiritual growth or mental +outlook, has opened to divide this moment from the one which directly +preceded it. + +Such a moment was this one in which the two men who were bound together +by so tragic a link came face to face in Chloe Carstairs' drawing-room. + +Each had been quite sincere in his dread of any future meeting; but +whereas Bruce Cheniston had been the victim of as cruel a circumstance +as ever deprived lover of his beloved, Anstice was the more to be +pitied, inasmuch as to his own burden of regret must be added the +knowledge that through his premature action he had given another man the +right to execrate his name so long as they both should live. + +For a second Anstice wondered, growing cold whether Cheniston would +refuse to shake hands with him. In his heart he knew quite well, had +always known, that he had not been to blame in that bygone episode; that +although he had done a thing which must haunt him for the rest of his +life by reason of its tragic uselessness, as a man in whom a woman had +trusted he had had no alternative but to act as he had acted. + +Yet of all men on earth Cheniston might well question the necessity of +his action; and Anstice told himself with a fast-beating heart that he +would have no right to resentment should the other refuse to take his +hand, to sit at meat with the man who had deprived Hilda Ryder of her +share in the gracious inheritance of life in the world she had called so +beautiful. + +For a second, indeed, Cheniston himself hesitated, checked in the +friendly greeting he had been about to bestow on his sister's visitor. +He had arrived late that evening, and had been dismissed to dress with +the hasty information that two guests were expected to dinner, but he +had had no idea of the last arrival's identity; and to him, too, the +meeting brought back with horrible poignancy that last bitter interview +in the haunted East. + +Then, for Bruce Cheniston was sufficiently just to acquit Anstice of any +share in this untoward situation, he held out his hand with a cold +courtesy which plainly betokened no intention of alluding to any former +meeting. + +"Good evening." Their hands touched, then fell apart. "You are a +new-comer to Littlefield, I understand. Like the place?" + +"Yes--in moderation," rejoined Anstice with equally frigid courtesy. +"The country has its charms--at this season of the year." + +"It has charms at all seasons, Dr. Anstice." Iris' light voice +challenged him, even while her grey eyes noted the strange expression in +his face. "I'm afraid you're not a real country lover if you qualify +your affection by picking out a particular season!" + +"You remind one of those people who love dogs--'in their proper place.'" +Chloe's tone was delicately quizzical. "On inquiry you find their proper +place is outside--in some kennel or inclosure as far away from the +speaker as it is possible to get!" + +"You can't be charged with that particular kind of affection, Chloe." +There was an assertive note in Cheniston's voice when he spoke to his +sister which was new to her. "You think a dog's proper place is the best +armchair or the downiest bed in the house!" + +For a second Chloe did not reply; and without waiting Bruce went on +speaking. + +"By the way, where are your dogs? I've not seen hide or hair of one +since I arrived." + +Again there was a short, but quite perceptible silence. Then Chloe said +tranquilly: + +"No wonder you haven't seen any dogs, Bruce. There aren't any to see." + +"No dogs?" Bruce was frankly astonished. "Why, in the old days you used +to declare you couldn't live without them!" + +Just for a second a quiver of emotion convulsed Chloe's usually +impassive face. Then she laughed, and Anstice thought her laugh almost +painful in its artificiality. + +"My dear Bruce," she said, "please remember the old days are as dead +as--as Queen Anne. When I was young enough and foolish enough to believe +in disinterested affection, and in the right of every creature to be +happy, I adored dogs--or thought I did. Now I am wiser, and know that +life is not all bones and playtime, so to speak. Besides, they always +die when one is fond of them, and I quite agree with Kipling that with +so much unavoidable discomfort to put up with, it's the height of folly +to 'give one's heart to a dog to tear.' In future I yield no fraction of +my heart to any living creature--not even a dog." + +Certainly Chloe's drawing-room was a battlefield of conflicting emotions +this evening. Just for a moment she had been shaken out of her usual +poise, had spoken warmly, as a normal woman might have done; yet both +Iris who loved her, and Anstice who had studied her, knew that this +warmer manner, this apparent freedom of speech, was in reality the +outward sign of some inward disturbance; and both guessed, vaguely, that +the meeting with her brother, who had not been in England for several +years, was the cause of her unusual animation. + +Fortunately as she finished speaking the gong which summoned them to +dinner began to sound; and a moment later Bruce offered his arm to Iris +and led her into the dining-room, followed by Anstice and his hostess. + +Not appearing to notice his proffered arm, Chloe walked beside him in a +sudden pensive silence which Anstice found oddly appealing after her +impetuous speech; and for a moment he forgot his own equivocal position +in a desire to help her through what he guessed to be a trying moment. + +Once seated at the pretty round table things became easier. The room was +softly lit by innumerable candles--a fancy of Chloe's--and in their +tender light both women looked their best. As usual Mrs. Carstairs wore +white, the fittest setting, Anstice thought, for her pale and tragic +grace; but to-night she had thrown a wonderful Chinese scarf round her +shoulders, and the deep blue ground, embroidered with black and green +birds and flowers, gave an unusually distinctive note to her elusive +personality. Opposite to her Iris, in her filmy grey-green frock, a big +bunch of violets at her breast, wore the look of a nymph, some woodland +creature whose fragrant charm and youthful freshness were in striking +contrast to Chloe's more finished beauty. + +The conversation, once started, ran easily enough. Although he never +mentioned India, Cheniston was ready enough to talk of Egypt, where for +some years he had made his home; and Iris, to whose young imagination +the very name of that mysterious land was a charm, listened entranced to +his description of a trip he had lately taken up the Nile. + +"You are an engineer, Mr. Cheniston?" Anstice interpolated a polite +question and Cheniston answered in the same tone. + +"Yes. And engineering in the land of the Pharaohs is no joke. You must +remember that we, as engineers, are only now where they were thousands +of years ago. I mean that our present-day feats, the Dam at Assouan, +wonderful as it is, and the rest, are mere child's play compared with +the marvels they constructed in their day." + +"So I have been told before." Only Anstice knew how hard it was to sit +there conversing as though he and this man shared no tragic memory in +common. "But if Egyptologists are to be believed there is hardly any +invention, any scientific discovery--so called--which wasn't known to +the Egyptians many thousands of years before the birth of Christ." + +"They even possessed aeroplanes, didn't they?" asked Iris, smiling; and +Bruce Cheniston turned to her with an involuntary softening in his +rather harsh voice. + +"So it is stated, I believe," he said, with an answering smile. "And it +is generally believed that in the lost Continent of Atlantis----" + +He went on talking, not monopolizing the conversation, but keeping it +going so skilfully that Iris, at least, did not recognize the fact that +both Mrs. Carstairs and Anstice were more than ordinarily silent as the +meal progressed. + +When the short but perfect dinner was finished Chloe rose. + +"We will have coffee in the drawing-room, Bruce," she said as she moved +slowly to the door. "If you are not too long over your cigarettes I +daresay Miss Wayne will sing for us." + +"With that inducement we shall soon follow you," said Cheniston gravely; +and as Iris passed through the door which Anstice held open for her she +gave him a friendly little smile which somehow nerved him for the ordeal +which he foresaw to be at hand. + +Closing the door he came back again to the table, but did not yet sit +down. Bruce had already reseated himself and was pouring out a glass of +port, an operation he interrupted with a perfunctory apology. + +"Forgive me--pray help yourself." He pushed the decanter across the +table, but Anstice shook his head. + +"No, thanks." He hesitated a moment, then plunged into the subject which +must surely be uppermost in both their minds. "See here, Cheniston, I +should like you to understand that when I accepted Mrs. Carstairs' kind +hospitality to-night I had no idea you were the brother I was to meet." + +For a second Cheniston said nothing, his brown hand playing absently +with a pair of nutcrackers beside him. Then he raised his head and +looked Anstice squarely in the face. + +"I am quite ready to believe that," he said slowly. "I can hardly +conceive any circumstances in which you would care to run the risk of a +meeting with me." + +"Quite so." Something in Cheniston's manner made Anstice suddenly angry. +"Though I would ask you, in common fairness, to believe that my distaste +for such a meeting rises rather from my reluctance to remind you of the +past than from any acknowledgment that you have a right to resent my +presence." + +Again Bruce Cheniston looked him in the face; and this time there was a +genuine surprise in his blue eyes. + +"I don't think I have given you reason to suppose I resent meeting you," +he said with a new note in his voice, a note of something more +definitely like hostility than he had hitherto permitted himself to +show. "Since you have started the subject I may say that as a rule one +doesn't greet as a brother the man who has robbed one of one's most +treasured possession--I'm speaking metaphorically, of course--but I +think you can hardly find fault with my--hesitation just now." + +"Oh, you have been politeness itself," said Anstice, rather bitterly. +"And in return for your forbearance I will relieve you of my unwelcome +presence immediately. Luckily my profession makes it easy for me to +behave with what, in another man, would appear discourtesy." + +He turned towards the door; but Bruce's voice arrested him midway. + +"One moment, Dr. Anstice." His tone was less openly hostile. "Don't go +yet, please. There are still one or two things to be said between us. +Will you do me the favour of sitting down again and letting us talk a +little?" + +"I don't see what good will come of it, but I'll stay if you wish." +Anstice returned to the table, and drawing out a chair--the one which +Iris had occupied during the meal--he sat down and lighted a cigarette +with a slightly defiant air. + +"To begin with"--Cheniston spoke abruptly--"I gather you know my +sister's story--know the bitter injustice that has been done to her in +this damned place?" + +Rather taken aback Anstice hesitated before replying, and Cheniston +continued without waiting for him to speak: + +"I say you know it, because my sister has a code of honour which forbids +her welcoming to her house anyone who is ignorant of that horrible +chapter in her history. And since I find you here, not only as a doctor, +but as a friend, I gather you believe she was innocent of the charge +against her." + +"Most certainly I believe in Mrs. Carstairs' innocence." He spoke warmly +now. + +"For that, at least, I am grateful to you." His tone did not betray +overwhelming gratitude, yet Anstice felt a sudden lightening of his +spirit. "To me, of course, it is absolutely inconceivable how anyone +could believe my sister guilty of such a degrading crime--or series of +crimes--but doubtless I am biassed in her favour. Still, you are a new +acquaintance, and don't know her as I do; so that I am grateful to you +for your clear-sightedness in the matter." + +He broke off for a moment to drink some wine. Then: + +"I should like to ask you one question. Does my sister know of that +episode in India? I mean, of course, of your share in the affair?" + +"No. And," said Anstice, "it has been puzzling me for the last couple of +hours to understand how it is that she has not connected my name with +you. Didn't she know it at the time?" + +"I daresay. But you must remember that my sister has gone through a +great deal since that day, three years ago. Very soon after that she +became involved in that terrible chain of events which led to her public +humiliation; and I haven't a shadow of doubt that the names of the +actors in the tragedy which broke up my life vanished completely from +her memory. As you may have noticed, Chloe is a self-centred woman. Her +sympathies are not deep, nor her interests wide. Her own life is a good +deal more interesting to her than the lives of other people--it is +generally so with strong characters, I believe--and after all, her own +tragedy has been so appalling that she may be excused if she has not a +very keen curiosity for those of others." + +"I quite agree with you. But"--it was Anstice's turn to look Cheniston +fully in the face--"do I understand you wish me to tell your sister of +our former--acquaintance?" + +After his question there fell a silence, during which Anstice had time +to study the other man more fully than he had hitherto done. + +Like himself, Cheniston had altered since that day in India. Although +still sunburned and florid, a typical young Englishman in his +square-shouldered build and general air of clean fitness, there was +something in his face which had not been there before, which warred +oddly with the youth which still lurked in the blue eyes and round the +clean-shaven mouth. The boyishness had vanished from his features, +taking with it all hint of softness; and in its place was a hard, +assertive look, the look of one who, having been once worsted in a bout +with Fate, through no fault of his own, was determined for the future to +keep a sharp lookout for his own interests and well-being. + +That it was a stronger face there was no denying, but it was also a far +less attractive one than that which Bruce Cheniston, the boy, had +presented to the world. + +At another moment Anstice would have found occasion for interested +speculation in the question as to whether or no this new man were the +real Bruce Cheniston--the Cheniston who would eventually have come to +the surface no matter how his life had been ordained; and as a +psychologist he would have found pleasure in debating the subject in all +its aspects. But as things were he was too miserably conscious that to +him, indirectly, this change from boy to man was due to take any +interest in the subtler question as to whether, after all, the +alteration was only the logical outcome of the man's true character, +uninfluenced by external happenings. + + * * * * * + +"No." Cheniston spoke so suddenly that Anstice started. "On the whole I +see no reason why my sister need be told the truth. Of course, one day +the similarity of name may flash upon her, and then, naturally, she must +be told." + +"Quite so." Anstice played with an empty glass for a moment. "As a +matter of fact I should really prefer Mrs. Carstairs to know the truth. +Of course the decision rests with you; but if you see your way to +telling her the story, pray don't be held back from doing so by any +scruples on my account. Besides----" + +Suddenly, so suddenly that he broke off involuntarily in his sentence, +the notes of the piano rang out from the room across the hall, and +without thinking what he did he rose hastily to his feet. + +"Miss Wayne is going to sing." Cheniston followed his lead politely. +"Shall we go and listen to the concert, Anstice?" + +"As you like. Forgive my abruptness, Cheniston." He had realized he had +acted unconventionally. "Miss Wayne's singing is a treat one doesn't +want to lose." + +With a queer little smile Cheniston led the way across the hall, and +they entered the drawing-room, Iris bringing her prelude to a close as +the door opened to admit them. + +"Come and sit down, Dr. Anstice." Chloe indicated a deep chair beside +the piano, and nothing loth, Anstice sat down as directed, while +Cheniston, his face a little in shadow, stood by one of the +widely-opened casements, through which the scents of the sleeping garden +stole softly, like a benison from the heart of the pitiful earth. + +A moment later Iris began to sing, and once again her rich, soft tones +seemed to cast a spell over Anstice's troubled, bitter spirit. + +From his low seat he had an unimpeded view of the singer. Her profile, +shaded by her soft, fair hair, looked unusually pure and delicate in the +candlelight, and as she sang the rise and fall of her breast in its fold +of filmy chiffon, the motion of her hands over the ivory keys, the sweet +seriousness of her expression, gave her an appearance of radiant, tender +youth which held an appeal as potent as it was unconscious. + +When she had finished her song, the last notes dying away into silence, +Cheniston came forward quickly. + +"Miss Wayne, you sing beautifully. May we ask for another song? You're +not tired, are you?" + +He bent over her as he spoke, and something in his manner, something +subtly protective, made Anstice's heart beat with a sudden fierce +jealousy which he knew to be quite unjustifiable. + +"No, I'm not in the least tired." Iris lifted her grey eyes frankly to +Cheniston's face, and again Anstice, watching, felt a pang of whose +nature he could have no doubt. He rose from his chair, with a +half-formed intention of adding his entreaties to those of Cheniston, +but sank back again as he realized the favour was already won. + +"I will sing with pleasure." Iris turned on the music-stool to glance at +her hostess, and Anstice saw her face, pearly and luminous in the soft +candlelight. "Mrs. Carstairs, you like Dvorak. Shall I sing you one of +his gipsy songs?" + +"Please, Iris." Few words of endearment ever passed between the two, yet +each felt something like real affection for the other, and Chloe's deep +voice was always gentle when she spoke to Iris. + +The next moment Cheniston stepped back and took up his former position +on the far side of the piano; and Iris began the simple little melody +which Dvorak acquired from the gipsies of his native land. + + "Songs my mother taught me + In the days long vanished!" + +So far Anstice heard the pure, soft voice; and suddenly he felt a +half-shy, half-reverential wonder as to what manner of woman she had +been who had brought this adorable girl into the world. Surely Fate had +been cruel to this unknown woman, inasmuch as Death had been permitted +to snatch her away before her eyes had been gladdened by the vision of +her child grown into this priceless, this wonderful youth, which held a +hint of a yet more gracious, yet more desirable womanhood.... + +And then the second verse stole softly on the quiet air.... + + "Now I teach my children + Each melodious measure...." + +Again did one, at least, of Iris' hearers lose the remaining lines. For +to Anstice these words brought another vision--a vision in which Iris, +this fair-haired girl who looked so adorably young and sweet, bent over +a little child whose rose-leaf face was a baby replica of her own.... + +And suddenly Anstice knew, knew irrevocably, beyond shadow of doubt, +that he wanted Iris Wayne for himself, that she was the one woman in all +the world he desired to make his wife.... + +With a wild throb of his heart he looked up--to find Bruce Cheniston's +eyes fixed upon his face with a half-mocking smile in their blue depths, +of whose hostile meaning there could be no question. + + * * * * * + +An hour or so later, when the guests had departed, and Cheniston had +finished a solitary pipe downstairs, he went up, yawning, to bed. +Passing his sister's open door he heard her call him, and after a +second's indecision he answered the summons, wondering why she were not +already asleep. + +Chloe was sitting by the open window, wearing a thin grey wrapper which +made her look curiously pale and ethereal. Her thick hair hung in two +heavy plaits over her shoulders, and in the dim light her face showed +indistinctly in its silky black frame. + +"Chloe, why aren't you in bed?" Bruce paused half-way across the room. + +"I'm not sleepy," she said indifferently. "I often sit here half the +night. Bruce"--her voice grew more alert--"have you and Dr. Anstice met +before?" + +"Yes," he said, "we have. But why do you ask?" + +"I thought there was something rather curious about your meeting," she +answered slowly. "At first I could not understand it, and then it dawned +upon me that you had met--and distrusted one another--before." + +"Distrusted?" He stared at her. "That isn't the right word, Chloe. We +_have_ met before--in India. I almost wonder you yourself didn't realize +that fact, but I suppose you were not sufficiently interested----" + +She interrupted him without ceremony. + +"I? But how should I realize ... unless"--suddenly her intuition serving +her as it serves so many women, she grasped the truth with a quickness +which surprised even her brother--"was that the name of the man who--you +don't mean it was Dr. Anstice who ... who...." + +He nodded. + +"Yes. I see you've grasped the truth. Anstice is an uncommon name, and +I'm surprised you did not recognize it earlier." + +"I had forgotten it." She stared at him, her blue eyes narrowing as her +mind worked quickly. "I see now. Dr. Anstice is the man----" + +"Who shot Hilda Ryder." Cheniston finished her sentence for her calmly, +but she saw him whiten beneath his tan. "Yes. He is the man all right. +We met, once, in Bombay--afterwards. And now you know why our meeting +to-night was not calculated to give either of us any great pleasure." + +"Yes. I know now." She spoke slowly, almost meditatively. "And I know, +too, why he always looks so sad. Bruce, from the bottom of my heart I +pity that man." + +"You do?" Bruce's eyebrows rose. "I confess I don't see why you should +waste your pity on him. I think you might bestow a little more of it on +me--though it is rather late for pity now." + +"On you?" Slowly her blue gaze rested on his face. "Bruce, you don't +compare your position with his? Surely even you can understand that he +is a thousand times more to be pitied than you? I always thought there +was a tragedy in Dr. Anstice's life. But I never dreamed it was quite so +piteous as this." + +Bruce uttered an exclamation of impatience. + +"I didn't expect such sentimentality from you, Chloe. I gathered from +your conversation before dinner that you were pretty well disillusioned +by this time, and it rather surprises me to hear you pouring out your +compassion on a man like Anstice, who certainly doesn't strike me as +requiring any outside sympathy." + +For a moment there was silence, while Chloe played absently with a +bracelet she had just discarded. Then she said tranquilly: + +"You never were overburdened with brains, Bruce, though I grant you do +well in your own profession. But, if you fail to see the reason why Dr. +Anstice is deserving of more compassion than you I'm afraid it's +hopeless to expect anything very brilliant from you in the future." + +Cheniston's eyes darkened and his jaw set itself aggressively. For a +moment his sister found him an unfamiliar personality, and in her own +indifferent way asked herself whether after all she had ever known her +brother thoroughly. + +Then as she was considering the problem, and finding it mildly +attractive, Bruce turned on his heel and strode sulkily to the door. + +"Good night," he said angrily as he reached it. "You're in one of your +aggravating moods to-night, and it's no use me staying to talk to you." + +"Not a bit of use," she assented serenely; and her brother went out, +nearly falling over Tochatti, who was evidently about to seek admission +to her mistress's room. + +"Why on earth aren't you in bed, Tochatti?" His inward annoyance made +him speak harshly; but Tochatti apparently bore no resentment. + +She murmured something to which he paid scant attention; and then, +standing aside for him to pass her, she quietly entered the room he had +just quitted, and proceeded with her final duties for the night. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +For two or three weeks after his meeting with Mrs. Carstairs' brother, +Anstice avoided both Cherry Orchard and Greengates. + +From a chance word in the village he had learned that Bruce Cheniston +was prolonging his visit to his sister; and that new and totally +unreasoning jealousy which had assailed Anstice as he saw Cheniston +bending over Iris Wayne at the piano told him with a horrid certainty +that to the girl herself belonged the responsibility for this change in +the young man's plans. + +In his calmer moments Anstice could not help admitting the suitability +of a friendship, at least, between the two. Although he had lost much of +his attractive boyishness Cheniston was a good-looking fellow enough; +and there was no denying the fact that he and Miss Wayne were a +well-matched pair so far as youth and vitality and general good looks +went; and yet Anstice could not visualize the pair together without a +fierce, wild pang of jealousy which pierced his heart with an almost +intolerable anguish. + +For he wanted Iris Wayne for himself. He loved her; and therein lay +tragedy; for he told himself miserably that he had no right to ask her +to couple her radiant young life with his, already overshadowed by that +past happening in India. + +Not only that, but he was already over thirty, she but eighteen; and Sir +Richard Wayne's daughter was only too well provided with this world's +goods, while he, with all his training, all his toil, was even yet a +comparatively poor man, with nothing to offer the girl in exchange for +the luxurious home from which he would fain take her. + +On every count he knew himself to be ineligible; and in the same flash +of insight he saw Bruce Cheniston, young, good-looking, distinguished in +his profession, in the receipt of a large salary; and owned to himself, +with that clarity of vision which rarely failed him, that Cheniston, +rather than he, was a fit suitor for Iris Wayne. + +On several occasions during those weeks of May he saw the two together; +and each time this happened he felt as though the sun had vanished from +the sky, as though the soft breezes of early summer were turned to the +cold and hopeless blast of an icy north-easter. + +Cheniston had a motor-bicycle on which he intended to explore the +district; and on finding a kindred spirit in Miss Wayne he had +inaugurated a series of expeditions in which she was his companion; +while Chloe Carstairs and Cherry would motor forth in the same direction +and share a picnic lunch at some wayside hostelry--an arrangement which +afforded unbounded pleasure to some members, at least, of the quartette. + +That Cheniston was strongly attracted by Iris, Anstice did not doubt. On +one unlucky Sunday he had received an invitation from Greengates, which, +delivered as it was in person by Sir Richard himself, could not have +been refused without discourtesy; and in the middle of the evening +Cheniston had dropped in casually with a message from his sister, and +had stayed on with an easy certainty of welcome which betokened a rapid +growth in favour with both father and daughter. + +What Iris' feelings towards the new-comer might be Anstice had no means +of discovering. Her manner towards him was delightfully girlish and +simple, and it was plain to see that she was fascinated by his accounts +of life in the wonderful Egypt which holds always so strong an +attraction for the romantic temperament; but with all her young +_insouciance_ Iris Wayne was not one to wear her heart upon her sleeve; +and her friendliness never lost that touch of reticence, of unconscious +dignity which constituted, to Anstice, one of her greatest charms. + +Towards himself, as an older man and one whose life naturally ran on +contrasting lines, her manner was a little less assured, as though she +were not quite certain of her right to treat him as one on a level with +herself; but the tinge of girlish deference to which, as he guessed, his +profession entitled him in her eyes, was now and then coloured with +something else, with a hint of gentleness, not unlike compassion, which +was oddly, dangerously sweet to his sore and lonely heart. + +Somehow the idea of marriage had never previously entered his head. +Before the day which had, so to speak, cut his life in two, with a line +of cleavage dividing the careless past from the ever-haunted future, he +had been too busy, too much occupied in preparation for the brilliant +career which he felt would one day be his, to allow thoughts of marriage +to distract him from his chosen work. And since that fatal day, although +his old enthusiasm, his old belief in himself and his capabilities, had +long ago receded into the dim background, he had never consciously +thought of any amelioration of the loneliness, the bitter, regretful +solitude in which he now had his being. + +Yet the thought of Iris Wayne was oddly, uncomfortably distracting; and +in those weeks of May, during which he deliberately denied himself the +sight of her, Anstice's face grew haggard, his eyes more sunken beneath +their straight black brows. + +Yet Fate ordained that he should meet her, more, do her service; and the +meeting, with its subsequent conversation, was one which Iris at least +was destined never to forget. + +One grey and cloudy morning when the sun had forgotten to shine, and the +air was warm and moist, Anstice was driving his car along a country road +when he espied her sitting by the wayside with a rather woe-begone face. + +Her motor-bicycle was beside her and she was engaged in tying a knot, +with the fingers of her left hand aided by her teeth, in a +roughly-improvised bandage which hid her right wrist. + +On seeing his car she looked up; and something in the rather piteous +expression of her grey eyes made him slow down beside her. + +"What's wrong, Miss Wayne? Had a spill?" + +She answered him ruefully. + +"Yes. At least my motor skidded and landed me in the road. And I cut my +wrist on a sharp stone--look!" + +She held up a cruelly-jagged flint; and Anstice sprang out of his car +and approached her. + +"I say, what a horrid-looking thing! Let me see your wrist, may I? I +think you'd better let me bind it up for you." + +"Will you?" She held out her wrist obediently, and taking off the +handkerchief which bound it he saw that it was really badly cut, the +blood still dripping from the wound. + +"Ah, quite a nasty gash--it would really do with a stitch or two." He +hesitated, looking at her thoughtfully. "Miss Wayne, what's to be done? +You can't ride home like that, and yet we can hardly leave your +motor-bike on the roadside." + +He paused a second, his wits at work. Then his face cleared. + +"I know what we'll do," he said. "Round this corner is a cottage where a +patient of mine lives. We'll go in there, dispatch her son to look after +the bike till I patch you up, and then if you can't manage to ride home +we'll think of some other arrangement." + +Iris rose, gladly, from her lowly seat. + +"That's splendid, Dr. Anstice. I'm sure I can ride home if you will stop +this stupid bleeding." + +"Good." He liked her pluck. "Jump into my car and we'll go and interview +Mrs. Treble." + +"What an odd name!" + +"Yes, isn't it? And by a strange coincidence her maiden name was Bass!" + +Iris laughed, and a little colour came into her pale cheeks as they sped +swiftly round the corner in search of the oddly-named lady's abode. + +Mrs. Treble, who was engaged in hanging out the weekly washing in the +small garden, was all sympathy at the sight of the young lady's wounded +wrist, and invited them into the parlour and provided the basin of water +and other accessories for which Anstice asked with a cheerful bustle +which took no account of any trouble involved. + +When she had dispatched her son, an overgrown lad who had just left +school, to keep watch over the motor-cycle, Mrs. Treble requested the +doctor's leave to continue her work; and nothing loth, Anstice shut the +door upon her and gave his attention to his pale patient. + +He had brought in a small leather case from his car, and after cleansing +the wound he selected a needle and some fine wire in order to put in the +necessary stitches, watched the while by a pair of interested, if +somewhat apprehensive eyes. + +"I won't hurt you, Miss Wayne." Somehow he felt oddly reluctant to +inflict even a pinprick of pain on this particular patient. "I'm awfully +sorry, but I'm afraid I really must put in a couple of stitches. I'll be +as gentle as I can." + +Iris laughed, rather shamefacedly. + +"You think I am a coward," she said, "and you're quite right. I openly +confess I dread bearing pain, probably because I've never known anything +worse than toothache in my life!" + +"Toothache can be the very--er--deuce," he said. "I once had it myself, +and ever since then I've had the liveliest sympathy for any poor +victim!" + +"But there are so many other pains, so much worse, that it seems absurd +to talk of mere toothache as a real pain," she objected, and Anstice +laughed. + +"Quite so, but you must remember that the other 'real pains' have +alleviations which are denied to mere toothache. One's friends do at +least take the other things seriously, and offer sympathy as freely as +more potent remedies; while the sight of a swollen face is apt to cause +one's relations a quite heartless amusement!" + +"Well, it must be a consolation to be taken seriously," she said, "and I +do think sympathy is wonderfully cheering. Are all doctors as +sympathetic as you, Dr. Anstice?" + +For a moment Anstice suspected her of mockery. He was well aware that +for all his real sympathy with acute suffering he was not remarkable for +patience in cases of less reality; and he knew that the people whose +ailments belonged to the latter category were apt to find his manner +abrupt and unsympathetic. + +But a glance at Iris' face showed him she had spoken in good faith; and +he answered her in the same spirit. + +"There are a good many men in the world who are far more sympathetic +with suffering humanity than I, Miss Wayne." For a moment his face +clouded, and Iris noticed the change wonderingly. "I'm afraid my manner +isn't all it might be. It isn't that I'm not genuinely sorry for people +who are, or think themselves, ill; but ..." for a second he hesitated, +then a quite unusual impulse drove him into speech, "... the fact is, I +once had a knock-down blow myself; and curiously enough it seemed to +dull my capacity for entering into the sufferings of others." + +She took him up with unexpected comprehension. + +"I think I can understand that. It has always seemed to me that it is +not the people who have suffered who sympathize ... they understand, if +you know what I mean, but they aren't just sorry like the people who +haven't had any sorrows of their own to spend their pity on...." + +She broke off abruptly, and with equal abruptness Anstice suspended +operations to ask, with a solicitude which belied his earlier speech, +whether he were hurting her very badly. + +"No ... not at all ... at least, hardly at all," she answered honestly. +"I was just wishing I could explain myself better. Now take Mrs. +Carstairs, for instance." Iris knew that Chloe had told Anstice her +story. "She has suffered as very few people like her have to do, but I +don't think it has made her exactly what you call sympathetic." + +"That is just what I mean," said Anstice. "Somehow I think suffering is +apt to destroy one's nerve of sympathy for others. It atrophies, withers +away in the blast of one's personal tragedy; and although Mrs. Carstairs +might be able to enter into the feelings of another unhappy woman more +fully than--well, than you could do, I think you would be more likely to +feel what we call 'sorry for' that woman than she would be." + +"I'm glad you agree with me," said Iris slowly. "Dr. Anstice, would you +think me very--impertinent--if I say I'm sorry you have +been--unhappy--too? I--somehow I always thought you"--she stopped, +flushed, but continued bravely--"you looked so sad sometimes I used to +wonder if you too had suffered, like poor Mrs. Carstairs." + +For a moment Anstice's fingers faltered in their task, and the girl's +heart missed a beat as she wondered whether she had said too much. + +Then: + +"Miss Wayne"--Anstice's voice reassured her even while it filled her +with a kind of wondering foreboding--"I should never find any +impertinence in any interest _you_ might be kind enough to express. I +have suffered--bitterly--and the worst of my suffering lies in the fact +that others--one other at least besides myself--were involved in the ill +I unwittingly wrought." + +Again her answer surprised him by the depth of comprehension it +conveyed. + +"That, too, I can understand," said Iris gently. "I have often tried to +imagine how one must feel when one has unknowingly harmed another +person; and it has always seemed to me that one would feel as one does +when one has spoken unkindly, or impatiently, at least, to a child." + +For a second Anstice busied himself in bandaging the slim wrist he held. +Then, without looking up, he said: + +"You have thought more deeply than many girls of your age, Miss Wayne. I +wonder if you would extend your pity to me if you knew the nature of my +particular tragedy." + +A sudden spatter of rain against the window-pane made them both look up +in surprise; and in a lighter tone Anstice said: + +"A sharp shower, I see. I've finished my work, you'll be glad to hear, +but I think it will be wiser to wait here till the rain's over. Will +your cycle take any harm?" + +"Oh, no, it can be dried at home," said Iris rather absently; and both +of them were too much preoccupied to expend any of their talked-of +sympathy on the overgrown youth patiently guarding the motor by the +roadside. + +"Come and try an easier chair, won't you?" Anstice pushed forward a +capacious rocking-chair and Iris took it obediently, while Anstice +leaned against the table regarding her rather curiously. + +"Miss Wayne." Suddenly he felt a quite overwhelming desire to admit this +girl into his jealously-guarded confidence. "From something you said +just now I gathered that you had been good enough to spare a thought for +me now and then. Does that mean that your kindness would extend so far +as to allow you to listen to a very short story in which I, +unfortunately, am the principal character?" + +"I am ready to listen to anything you care to tell me," she said gently; +and looking into her steadfast grey eyes Anstice told himself that a man +could desire no sweeter, more trustworthy confidante. + +"Well"--he sighed--"here is the story. Once, in India, I found myself in +a tight place, with a woman, a girl, who was almost a perfect stranger +to me. We had unwittingly trespassed into a native Temple, and the +penalty for such trespass was--death." + +He paused a second, wondering whether she had heard Bruce Cheniston's +story; but although there was deep interest there was no recognition in +her quiet attention; and he hurried on. + +"She--the girl--made me promise not to allow her to fall into the hands +of the natives. Whether she was correct in her fears of what might +happen to her I don't know; but I confess I shared them at the time. +Anyhow I promised that if help did not come before dawn--we were to die +at sunrise--I would shoot her with my own hand." + +Again he paused; and the horror in Iris' grey eyes deepened. + +"Well, help did come--ten minutes too late. I was standing with my back +against the wall, the guns were levelled at my heart, when the rescuers +burst into the courtyard and the natives fled. But I had shot the girl +ten minutes earlier...." + +Anstice's brow was wet with drops of sweat as he finished, his whole +being convulsed with reminiscent agony; and he turned aside lest he +should read shrinking, or worse, condemnation in the grey eyes which had +never left his face. + +There was a silence in which to the man who waited the whole world +seemed to halt upon its axis, as though aghast at the brief recital +which was almost Greek in its sense of inevitable tragedy; and for a +wild, hateful moment Anstice told himself that for all her boasted +comprehension Iris had not the power to understand the full force of the +situation. + +Then, suddenly, he found her beside him. She had left her chair, +noiselessly, as he turned away, and now she was standing close to him, +her hand on his arm, her grey eyes, full of the sweetest, most divine +compassion, seeking his ravaged face. + +"Oh, you poor thing!" The pity in her voice made it sound like the +softest music. "What a dreadfully sad story; and how you must have +suffered. But"--her kind little hand tightened on his arm--"why should +you reproach yourself so bitterly? You did the only thing it was +possible for you to do. No man living could have done anything else." + +He turned to her now, and he had recaptured his self-control. + +"It is sweet--and kind--of you to say just that." Even now his voice was +not quite steady. "And if I could believe it--but all the time I tell +myself if I had only waited ... there would perhaps have been a +chance ... I was too quick, too ready to obey her request, to carry out +my promise...." + +"No, Dr. Anstice." In Iris' voice was a womanliness which showed his +story had reached the depths of her being. "I'm quite certain that's the +wrong way to look at it. As things were, there was nothing else to be +done, _nothing_. If I had been the girl," said Iris quietly, "I should +have thought you very cruel if you had broken your promise to me." + +"Ah, yes," he said, slowly; "but you see there is another factor in the +case which I haven't told you--yet. She was engaged to be married--and +by acting prematurely I destroyed the hopes of the man who loved +her--whom she loved to the last second of her life." + +This time Iris was silent so long that he went on speaking with an +attempt at a lighter tone. + +"Well, that's the story--and a pretty gloomy one, isn't it? But I have +no right to inflict my private sorrows on you, and so----" + +She interrupted him as though she had not heard his last words. + +"Dr. Anstice, when you realized what had happened, what did you do? I +mean, when you came back to England? I suppose you did come back, after +that?" + +"Yes. I had an interview with the man--the girl's _fiance_ and came +home." He shrugged his shoulders, a bitter memory chasing away the +softer emotions of the preceding moment. "What did I do? Well, I did +what a dozen other fellows might have done in my place. I sought +forgetfulness of the past by various means, tried to drown the thought +of what had happened in every way I could, and merely succeeded in +delivering myself over to a bondage a hundred times more terrible than +that from which I was trying to escape." + +For the first time Iris looked perplexed. + +"I don't think I understand," she said, and again Anstice's face +changed. + +"No," he said, and his voice was gentle, "of course you don't. And +there's no reason why you should. Let us leave the matter at that, Miss +Wayne. I am grateful to you for listening so patiently to my story." + +"Ah," she said, and her eyes were wistful, "but I should like to know +what you meant just now. Won't you tell me? Or do you think I am too +stupid to understand?" + +"No. But I think you are too young," he said; and the girl coloured. + +"Of course if you would rather not----" + +Something in her manner made him suddenly change his mind. + +"There is no reason why I should make a mystery of it," he said. "I +hesitated about telling you because--well, for various reasons; but +after all you might as well know the truth. I tried to win forgetfulness +by the aid of drugs--morphia, to be exact." + +He had startled her now. + +"You took morphia----?" Her voice was dismayed. + +"Yes, for nearly six months I gave myself up to it. I told myself there +was no real danger for me--I knew the peril of it so well. I wasn't like +the people who go in ignorantly for the thing; and find themselves bound +hand and foot, their lives in ruins round them. That is what I thought, +in my folly." He sighed, and his face looked careworn. "Well, I soon +found out that I was just like other people after all. I went into the +thing, thinking I should find a way out of my troubles. And I was +wrong." + +"You gave it up?" Her voice was suddenly anxious. + +"Yes. In the nick of time I came across an old friend--a friend of my +student days, who had been looking for me, unknown to me, for months. He +wanted me to do some research work for him--work that necessitated +visiting hospitals in Paris and Berlin and Vienna--and I accepted the +commission only too gladly." + +"And--you gave up the terrible thing?" + +"Yes. The new interest saved me, you know. I came back, after some +months of hard work, and found my friend on the eve of starting with an +expedition for Central Africa, to study tropical diseases; and had there +been a place for me I would have gone too. But there wasn't; and I was a +bit fagged, so after doing locum work for another friend for some time I +looked about for a practice, bought this one--and here I am." + +"Dr. Anstice "--she spoke shyly, though her eyes met his bravely--"you +won't ever take that dreadful stuff again, will you? I am quite sure," +said Iris Wayne, "that _that_ is not the way out." + +"No," he answered steadily, "you are quite right. It isn't. But I haven't +found the way out yet." He paused a moment; then held out his hand, and +she put her uninjured left hand into it rather wonderingly. "Still, I +will not seek that way out again. I will promise--no, I won't promise, +for I'm only human and I couldn't bear to break a promise to _you_--but +I will do my best to avoid the deadly thing for the rest of my life." + +He pressed her hand gently, then dropped it as a sudden loud knock +sounded on the door. + +"Come in." They turned to see who the visitor might be; and to the +surprise of both in walked Bruce Cheniston, an unmistakable frown on his +face. + +"Hullo! It is you, after all, Iris!" Anstice noted the use of her +Christian name, and in the same moment remembered there was a +long-standing friendship between the families. "I thought it was your +motor-cycle I found by the roadside, with a lanky yokel mounting guard +over it; and he said something about an accident----" + +"Nothing very serious." Iris smiled at him in friendly fashion, and his +face cleared. "I skidded--or the bicycle did--and I fell off and cut my +wrist." + +"I found Miss Wayne sitting by the roadside binding up her wound," +interposed Anstice rather coldly, "and persuaded her to come in here and +have it properly seen to. If it had not been for the rain she would have +been on her way home by now." + +"I see. It was lucky you passed." Evidently Iris' presence prevented any +display of hostility. "Well, the rain is over now, but"--he glanced at +Iris' bandaged wrist--"you oughtn't to ride home if you're disabled. +What do you say, Dr. Anstice?" + +"I think, seeing it is the right wrist, it would be neither wise nor +easy for Miss Wayne to ride," said Anstice professionally, and Cheniston +nodded. + +"Well, we will leave the cycle here, and send one of the men for it +presently," he said. "Luckily I have got Chloe's car, and I can soon run +you over, Iris. I suppose that is your motor outside?" he added, turning +to Anstice with sudden briskness. + +"Yes." Anstice glanced towards the window. "It is fine now, and I must +be off, at any rate." + +He packed the things he had used back into their little case, and turned +towards the door. + +"Good morning, Miss Wayne. I hope your wrist won't give you any further +pain." + +"Good-bye, Dr. Anstice." She held out her left hand with a smile. "Ever +so many thanks. I don't know what I should have done if you had not +passed just then!" + +The trio went out together, after a word to the mistress of the cottage; +and Bruce helped Iris into the car with an air of proprietorship which +did not escape the notice of the other man. + +"Hadn't you better start first, Dr. Anstice?" Cheniston spoke with cool +courtesy. "Your time is more valuable than ours, no doubt!" + +"Thanks. Yes, I haven't time to waste." His tone was equally cool. "Good +morning, Miss Wayne. 'Morning, Cheniston." + +A moment later he had started his engine; and in yet another moment his +car was out of sight round the corner of the road. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +After the episode in the wayside cottage on that showery morning of May +Anstice made no further attempt to avoid Iris Wayne. + +The way in which she had received his story had lifted a weight off his +mind. She had not shrunk from him, as in his morbid distrust he had +fancied possible. Rather she had shown him only the sweetest, kindest +pity; and it seemed to him that on the occasion of their next meeting +she had greeted him with a new warmth in her manner which was surely +intended to convey to him the fact that she had appreciated the +confidence he had bestowed upon her. + +Besides--like the rest of us Anstice was a sophist at heart--the +kindness with which Sir Richard Wayne had consistently treated him was +surely deserving of gratitude at least. + +It would be discourteous, if nothing more, to refuse his invitations +save when the press of work precluded their acceptance; and so it came +about that Anstice once more entered the hospitable doors which guarded +Greengates, incidentally making the acquaintance of Lady Laura Wells, +Sir Richard's widowed sister, who kept house for him with admirable +skill, if at times with rather overbearing imperiousness. + +Sir Richard, for all his years, was hale and hearty and loved a game of +tennis; so that when once Iris' wrist was healed there were many keenly +contested games during the long, light evenings--games in which Iris, +partnered either by Cheniston or Anstice, darted about the court like a +young Diana in her short white skirt and blouse open at the neck to +display the firm, round throat which was one of her greatest charms. + +The antagonism between Anstice and Bruce Cheniston deepened steadily +during these golden summer days. Had they met in different +circumstances, had there been no question, however vague and undefined, +of rivalry between them, it is possible there would have been no +positive hostility in their mutual attitude. Any genuine friendship was +naturally debarred, seeing the nature of the memory they shared in +common; but it would have been conceivably possible for them to have met +and recognized one another's existence with a neutrality which would +have covered a real but harmless distaste for each other's society. + +Having been forced, by an unkind Fate, into a position in which each saw +in the other a possible rival, any neutrality was out of the question. +It had not taken Anstice long to discover that Cheniston had so far +recovered from the loss of Hilda Ryder as to consider the possibility of +making another woman his wife; nor had Cheniston's eyes been less keen. + +He had very quickly discovered that Anstice was in love with pretty +Iris; and instantly a fire of opposition sprang into fierce flame in his +heart; and to himself he said that this man, having once deprived him of +his chosen woman, should not again be permitted to come between him and +his desire. + +True, he did not profess to love Iris Wayne as he had loved Hilda Ryder; +for no other woman in the world could ever fill the place in his life +left vacant by that untimely shot in the dawn of an Indian day. + +Until the hour in which he learned of Miss Ryder's tragic death Bruce +Cheniston had been an ordinary easy-going youth, cleverer in some ways +than the average man, on a level with most as regarded his outlook on +life and its possibilities. He had never been very deeply moved over +anything. Things had always gone smoothly with him, and he had passed +through school and college with quite passable success and complete +satisfaction in himself and his surroundings. His love for Hilda Ryder +was the best and highest thing in his whole life; and in his attempt to +become what she believed him to be he rose to a higher mental and moral +stature than he had ever before attained. + +And then had come the tragedy which had deprived him at once of the girl +he had loved and the incentive to a better, worthier manhood which her +love had supplied. For her sake he could have done much, could have +vanquished all the petty failings, the selfish weaknesses which marred +his not otherwise unattractive character; but when Hilda Ryder vanished +from his life he lost something which he never regained. + +He grew older, harder, more cynical. His sunny boyishness, which had +effectually masked the cold determination beneath, dropped from him as a +discarded garment; and the real man, the man whose possibilities Hilda +Ryder had dimly presaged and had resolved to conquer, came to the +surface. + +He felt, perhaps naturally, that he had a grudge against Fate; and the +immediate result was to eliminate all softness from his character, and +replace such amiable weakness by a harsh determination to shape his life +henceforth to his own design, if indeed strength of purpose and a +relentless lack of consideration for any other living being could +compass such an end. + +Fate had beaten him once. He was determined such victory should be +final; and during the last few years Bruce Cheniston had been known as a +man who invariably achieved his object in whatever direction such +achievement lay--a man of whom his friends prophesied that he would +surely go far; while his enemies, a small number, certainly, for on the +whole he was popular, labelled him ruthless in the pursuit of his +particular aims. + +Perhaps he was not to blame for the metamorphosis which followed Hilda +Ryder's death. For the first time he had loved a human being better than +himself; so that the reaction which fell upon his spirit when he +realized that his love was no longer needed was in its very nature +severe. + +Never again would he rise to the height of greatness to which his love +for Hilda Ryder had raised him; and whatever the quality of any +affection he might in future bestow upon a woman, the spark of +immortality, of selflessness, which had undoubtedly inspired his first +and truest love, would never again be kindled in his heart. + +Yet in his way Bruce was attracted to Iris Wayne. On their last meeting +she had been a little schoolgirl, a pretty creature, certainly, but not +to be compared with the beautiful and gracious Hilda, to whom he was +newly betrothed. Yet now, on meeting her again, he was bound to confess +that Iris was wonderfully attractive; and in a strangely short period of +time he came, by imperceptible degrees, to look upon her as a possible +successor to the woman he had lost. + +The fact that Anstice too found her desirable was stimulating. One of +Cheniston's newly-acquired characteristics was a tendency to covet any +object on which another had set his heart; and although in matters of +business this trait was possibly excusable enough, in this instance it +seemed likely to prove fatal to Anstice's happiness. + + * * * * * + +Which of the two men Iris herself preferred it would have taken a +magician to understand. + +With Bruce she was always her gayest self, plying him with eager +questions concerning his life in Egypt; and she was quite evidently +flattered by the pains he took to charm and interest her with his +picturesque narratives of experiences in the land of the Nile. He was, +moreover, at her service at all times, always ready to take her +motor-cycling, or to play tennis or golf with her; and although Iris was +as free from vanity as any girl could possibly be, it was not unpleasing +to her youthful self-esteem to find a man like Cheniston over ready at +her beck and call. + +With Anstice she was quieter, shyer, more serious; yet Sir Richard, who +watched the trio, as it were from afar, had a suspicion sometimes that +the Iris whom Anstice knew was a more real, more genuine person than the +gay and frivolous girl who laughed through the sunny hours with the +younger man. + +So the days passed on; and if Anstice was once more living in a fools' +Paradise, this time the key which unlocked the Gate of Dreams was made +of purest gold. + + * * * * * + +In the middle of July Iris was to celebrate the eighteenth anniversary +of her birth; and rather to Anstice's dismay he found that the event was +to be marked by a large and festive merry-making--nothing less, in fact, +than a dinner-party, followed by a dance to be held in the rarely-used +ballroom for which Greengates had been once famous. + +"You'll come, of course, Dr. Anstice?" Iris asked the question one sunny +afternoon as she prepared an iced drink for her visitor, after a +strenuous game of tennis. "You do dance, don't you? For my part I could +dance for ever." + +"I do dance, yes," he said, taking the tumbler she held out to him, with +a word of thanks. "But I don't think a ball is exactly in my line +nowadays." + +"It's not a ball," she said gaily. "Aunt Laura doesn't approve of oven a +dance, seeing I'm not really 'out' till I've been presented next +year--but Dad has been a perfect dear and says we can dance as long as +we like down here where none of our London relations can see us!" + +"Well, dance or ball, I suppose it will be a large affair?" He smiled at +her, and she told herself that he grew younger every day. + +"About a hundred and fifty, I suppose," she said lightly. "The room holds +two hundred, but a crowded room is hateful--though an empty one would be +almost worse. Anyhow, you are invited, first of all. Dinner is at seven, +because we want to start dancing at nine. Will you come?" + +Just for a second he hesitated. Then: + +"Of course I'll come," he said recklessly. "But you must promise me at +least three dances, or I shall plead an urgent telephone call and fly in +the middle!" + +"Three!" Her grey eyes laughed into his. "That's rather greedy! +Well--I'll give you two, and--perhaps--an extra." + +"That's a promise," he said, and taking out a small notebook he made an +entry therein. "And now, in view of coming frivolities, I must go and +continue my day's work." + +He rose and looked round the lovely old garden rather regretfully. + +"How lucky you are to be able to spend the summer days in such a cool, +shady spot as this! I wish you could see some of the stuffy cottages I +go into round here--windows hermetically sealed, and even the +fireplaces, when there are any, blocked up!" + +She looked at him rather strangely. + +"Do you know. Dr. Anstice," she said, irrelevantly, it seemed, "I don't +believe you ought to be a doctor. Oh, I don't mean you aren't very +clever--and kind--but somehow I don't believe you were meant to spend +your days going in and out of stuffy cottages and attending to little +village children with measles and whooping-cough!" + +"Don't you?" Anstice leaned against the trunk of the big cedar under +which she sat, and apparently forgot the need for haste. "To tell you +the truth I sometimes wonder to find myself here. When I was younger, +you know, I never intended to go in for general practice. I had dreams, +wild dreams of specializing. I was ambitious, and intended making some +marvellous discovery which should revolutionize medical science...." + +He broke off abruptly, and when he spoke again his voice held the old +bitter note which she had not heard of late. + +"Well, that's all over. I lost ambition when I lost everything else, and +now I suppose I shall go on to the end of the chapter as a general +practitioner, attending old women in stuffy cottages, and children with +measles and whooping-cough!" + +He laughed; but Iris' face was grave. + +"But, Dr. Anstice"--she spoke rather slowly--"isn't it possible for +you to go back to those dreams and ambitions? Suppose you were to +start again--to try once more to make the discovery you speak of. +Mightn't it ..." her voice faltered a moment, but her grey eyes were +steady, "... mightn't that be the way out--for you?" + +There was a sudden silence, broken only by the cooing of a wood-pigeon +in a tall tree close at hand. Then Anstice said thoughtfully: + +"I wonder? Supposing that were the way out, after all?" + +Ha gazed at her with a long and steady gaze which was yet oddly +impersonal, and she met his eyes bravely, though the carnation flush +deepened in her cheeks. Just as she opened her lips to reply a new voice +broke upon their ears. + +"Good afternoon, Iris. Am I too late for a game of tennis?" + +Bruce Cheniston, racquet in hand, had come round the corner of the +shrubbery, and as she heard his voice Iris turned to him swiftly. + +"Oh, good afternoon! You are late, aren't you? We waited for you ever so +long, then as you did not come Dr. Anstice and I played a single." + +"Oh." He looked rather curiously at the other man. "Which was the +victor? You?" + +"Oh, Dr. Anstice always beats me!" Iris laughed. "You and I are more +evenly matched, Bruce--though I confess you generally win." + +"Well, come and have a sett before the light goes." He glanced again at +Anstice. "Unless Anstice is giving you your revenge?" + +"No, I'm off." Anstice straightened himself and held out his hand. +"Good-bye, Miss Wayne. Thanks so much for our game." + +"Good-bye." She smiled at him with a hint of mischief in her eyes. "You +won't forget the fifteenth? I shan't believe any excuses about urgent +cases!" + +He smiled too. + +"I shan't tax your credulity," he said, "and I hope you won't forget +your promise!" + +Their mutual smile, and the hint of an understanding between them which +Anstice's last words, perhaps intentionally, conveyed, brought a frown +to Cheniston's bronzed forehead. + +"Oh, by the way, Anstice"--he spoke very deliberately, looking the other +man full in the face the while--"I want to have a chat with you--on a +matter of some little importance to us both. When are you likely to be +at liberty?" + +The brightness died from Anstice's face; and when he answered his voice +was devoid of any note of youth. + +"I am generally at liberty late in the evening," he said coolly. "If the +matter is important I can see you at nine o clock to-night. You'll come +to my place?" + +"Thanks." Bruce took out his cigarette case and having selected a +cigarette handed the case to the other. "Then, if convenient to you, I +will be round at nine this evening." + +"Very good." Anstice declined a cigarette rather curtly. "If I should be +unavoidably detained elsewhere I will ring you up." + +"Right." Bruce picked up his racquet and turned to Iris as though to say +the subject was closed. "Are you ready, Iris? You like this side best, I +know." + +And, with a sudden premonition of evil at his heart, Anstice turned away +and left them together in the sunny garden. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +"Well, Dr. Anstice, I have come, as you see." + +Cheniston entered the room on the stroke of nine, and Anstice turned +from the window with an oddly reluctant movement. + +The golden day was dying, slowly, in the west. In the clear green sky +one or two silver stars shone steadily, and in the little garden beyond +the house the white moths circled eagerly round the tall yellow evening +primroses which reared arrogant heads among their sleeping brother and +sister flowers. + +Anstice's room was lighted only by a couple of candles, placed on the +writing-table; but neither man desired a brilliant light +to-night--Anstice because he realized that this interview was a fateful +one, Cheniston because, although he had come here with the intention of +making havoc of a man's life, he was not particularly anxious to watch +that man's face during the process. + +"Yes. I see you have come." Anstice pointed to a chair. "Sit down, won't +you? And will you have a drink?" + +"No, thanks." Somehow Anstice's manner made Cheniston feel +uncomfortable; and it was suddenly impossible to accept hospitality of +any kind from his rival. + +"Well?" As Cheniston made no attempt to seat himself, Anstice, too, +stood upright, and the two faced one another with the lighted candles +between them. + +"I wonder----" Cheniston drew out his cigarette case and selected a +cigarette, which he proceeded to light with extreme care. "I wonder if +you have any idea what I have come to say?" + +On his side Anstice took a cigarette from an open box before him, but he +did not light it, yet. + +"I was never very good at guessing conundrums," he said coolly. "Suppose +you tell me, without more ado, why you have--honoured me to-night?" + +His tone, the deliberate pause before he uttered the word, showed +Cheniston plainly that his motive was suspected, and his manner +hardened. + +"I will tell you, as you wish, without more ado," he said. "Only--it is +always a little awkward to introduce a lady's name." + +"Awkward, yes; and sometimes unnecessary." Anstice's eyes, stern beneath +their level brows, met the other man's in a definitely hostile gaze. +"Are you quite sure it is necessary now?" + +"I think so." His tone was every whit as hostile. "The lady to whom I +refer is, as you have doubtless guessed by now, Miss Wayne." + +"I gathered as much from your manner." Anstice spoke coldly. "Well? I +really don't see why Miss Wayne's name should be mentioned between us, +but----" + +"Don't you?" Cheniston's blue eyes gleamed in his brown face. "I think +you do. Look here, Anstice. There is nothing to be gained by hedging. +Let us fight fair and square, gloves off, if you like, and acknowledge +that we both admire and respect Miss Wayne very deeply." + +"I quite agree with that." Anstice's eyes, too, began to glitter. +"And--having said so much, what then?" + +"Well, having cleared the ground so far, suppose we go a little further. +I think--you will correct me if I am wrong in my surmise--I think I am +right in saying that we both cherish a dream in regard to Miss Wayne." + +His unexpected phraseology made Anstice pause before he replied. There +was a touch of pathos, an unlooked-for poetry about the words which +seemed to intimate that whatever his attitude towards the world in +general, Cheniston's regard for Iris Wayne was no light thing; and when +he replied Anstice's voice had lost a little of its hostility. + +"As to your dreams I can say nothing," he said quietly. "For mine--well, +a man's dreams are surely his own." + +"Certainly, when they interfere with no other man's visions." Bruce +hesitated a moment. "But in this case--look here, Anstice, once before +you shattered a dream of mine, broke it into a thousand fragments; and +by so doing took something from my life which can never be replaced. I +think you understand my meaning?" + +White to the lips Anstice answered him: + +"Yes. I do understand. And if ever a man regretted the breaking of a +dream I have regretted it. But----" + +"Wait." Cheniston interrupted him ruthlessly. "Hear me out. It is three +years since that day in India when the woman I loved died by your hand. +Oh"--Anstice had made an involuntary movement--"I am not here to heap +blame upon you. I have since recognized that you could have done nothing +else----" + +"For that, at least, I thank you," said Anstice bitterly. + +"But you can't deny you did me an ill turn on that fatal morning. +And"--Cheniston threw away his cigarette impatiently--"are you prepared +to make amends--now--or not?" + +For a second Anstice's heart seemed to stop beating. Then it throbbed +fiercely on again, for he knew he had guessed Bruce Cheniston's meaning. + +"Make amends?" He spoke slowly to gain time. "Will you explain just what +you mean?" + +"Certainly." Yet for all his ready reply Cheniston hesitated. "I +mean--we're both of us in love with Iris Wayne. Oh"--Anstice had +muttered something--"let's be honest, anyway. As to which--if either--of +us she prefers, I'm as much in the dark as you. But"--his voice was cold +and hard as iron--"having robbed me of one chance of happiness, are you +going to rob me--try to rob me--of another?" + +In the silence which followed his last words a big brown moth, attracted +by the yellow candlelight, blundered into the room, and began to flutter +madly round the unresponsive flame; and in the poignant hush the beating +of his foolish wings sounded loudly, insistently. + +Then Anstice spoke very quietly. + +"You mean I am to stand aside and let you have a fair field with the +lady?" He could not bring himself to mention her name. + +"Yes. That's just what I do mean." Cheniston spoke defiantly--or so it +seemed to the man who listened. + +Again the silence fell, and again the only sound to be heard was the +soft flutter of the brown wings as the moth circled vainly round the +candle flame which would inevitably prove fatal to him by and by. + +"I see." Anstice's face was very pale now. "At least you do me the +honour of looking upon me in the light of a possible rival." + +"I do--and I'll go further," said Cheniston suddenly. "I have an +uncomfortable notion that if you tried you could cut me out. Oh--I'm not +sure"--he regretted the admission as soon as it was made--"after all, +Miss Wayne and I are excellent friends, and upon my soul I sometimes +dare to think I have a chance. But she has a great regard for you, I +know, and if you really set out to win her----" + +"I'm afraid you overrate my capabilities," said Anstice rather +cynically. "Miss Wayne has certainly never given me the slightest reason +to suppose she would be ready to listen to me, did I overstep the bounds +of friendship." + +"Of course not!" Cheniston smiled grimly. "Miss Wayne is not the sort of +girl to give any man encouragement. But as a man of honour, +Anstice"--again his voice cut like steel--"don't you think I have the +prior right to the first innings, so to speak?" + +"You mean I am to stand aside, efface myself, and let you chip in before +me?" His colloquial speech accorded badly with his formal tone. "I quite +see your point of view; and no doubt you think yourself justified in +your demand; but still----" + +"I do think I'm justified, yes," broke in Cheniston coolly. "After all, +if one man has a precious stone, a diamond, let us say, and another man +manages to lose it, well in the unlikely event of the two of them +discovering another stone, which of them has the best right to the new +one?" + +"That's a pretty ingenious simile," said Anstice slowly. "But it's a +false premise all the same. The diamond would naturally have no voice in +the matter of its ownership. But the woman in the case might reasonably +be expected to have the power of choice." + +"But that's just what I'm anxious to avoid." So much in earnest was the +speaker that he did not realize the fatuity of his words till they were +out of his mouth. Then he uttered an impatient exclamation. + +"Oh, hang it all, don't let's stand here arguing. You see the point, +that's enough. I honestly feel that since it was through you that I lost +Hilda Ryder"--even though he was prepared to woo another woman his voice +softened over the name--"it will be doubly hard if you are to come +between me and the only other girl I've ever put in Miss Ryder's place." + +"I see the point, as I said before," returned Anstice deliberately. "But +what I don't see is the justice of it. You've admitted I was not to +blame in doing what I did that day; yet in the same breath in which you +acquit me of the crime you expect me to pay the penalty!" + +For a second this logical argument took Cheniston aback. Then, for his +heart was set on winning Iris Wayne, he condescended to plead. + +"Yes. I admit all that--and I can see I haven't a leg to stand on. +But--morally--or in a spiritual sense so to speak, don't you think +yourself that I have just the shadow of a right to ask you to stand +aside?" + +"Yes." His assent was unflinching, though his lips were white. "You have +that right, and that's why I'm listening to you to-night. But--don't you +think we are both taking a wrong view of the matter? What faintest +grounds have we for supposing Miss Wayne will listen to either of us?" + +"Oh, that's not an insurmountable obstacle." Cheniston saw the victory +was won, and in an instant he was awake to the expediency of clinching +the matter finally. "We don't know, of course, that she will listen +either to me or to you. But for my part I am ready to take my chance. +And"--at the last moment the inherent honesty of the man came to the +surface through all the unscrupulous bargain he was driving--"my chance +is a hundred times better if you withdraw from the contest." + +"I see." With an effort Anstice crushed down the tide of revolt which +swept over his heart. "As you say, I owe you something for that evil +turn I did you, unwittingly, in India. And if you fix this as the price +of my debt I suppose, as an honourable man, there is nothing for me to +do but to pay that price." + +Bruce Cheniston looked away quickly. Somehow he did not care to meet the +other man's eyes at that moment. + +"One thing only I would like to ask of you." Anstice's manner was not +that of a man asking a favour. "If Miss Wayne remains impervious to your +entreaties"--Cheniston coloured angrily, suspecting sarcasm--"will you +be good enough to let me know?" + +"Certainly." Cheniston was suddenly anxious to leave the house, to quit +the presence of this man who spoke so quietly even while his black eyes +flamed in his haggard face. "I will try my luck at once--within the next +week or two. See here, Miss Wayne's birthday dance comes off shortly. +If, after that, I have not won her consent, I will quit the field. Is +that fair?" + +"Quite fair." Suddenly Anstice laughed harshly. "And you think I can +then step forward and try my luck. Why, you fool, can't you see that for +both of us this is the psychological moment--that the man who hangs back +now is lost? I am to wait in the background while you go forward and +seize the golden minute? Well"--his voice had a bitter ring--"I've +agreed, and you've got your way; but for God's sake go before I repent +of the bargain." + +Cheniston, startled by his manner, moved backward suddenly; and a chair +went over with a crash which set the nerves of both men jarring. + +"When you've quite done smashing my furniture"--Anstice's jocularity was +savage--"perhaps you'll be good enough to clear out. I won't pretend I'm +anxious for more of your company to-night!" + +Cheniston picked up the chair, and placed it against the table with +quite meticulous care. + +"I'll go." He suddenly felt as though the man who stood opposite, the +flame from the candles flickering over his face with an odd effect of +light and shadow, had after all come off the best in this horrible +interview. "I--I suppose it's no use saying any more, Anstice. You know, +after all"--in spite of his words he felt an irresistible inclination to +justify himself--"you do owe me something----" + +"Well? Have I denied it?" Now his tone was coldly dangerous. "I have +promised to pay a debt which after all was incurred quite blamelessly; +but if you expect me to enter into further details of the transaction, +you are out in your reckoning." + +"I see." Suddenly the resentment which Cheniston had felt for this man +since their first meeting flamed into active hatred. "Well, I have your +word, and that's enough. As you say, this is a business transaction, and +the less said the better. Good night." + +He turned abruptly away and plunged through the shadowy room towards the +door. As he reached it, Anstice spoke again. + +"Cheniston." There was a note in his voice which no other man of +Anstice's acquaintance had ever heard. "In proposing this bargain, this +payment of a debt, I think you show yourself a hard and a pitiless +creditor. But if, in these circumstances, you fail to win Miss Wayne, I +shall think you are a fool--a damned fool--as well. That's all. Good +night." + +Without, another word Cheniston opened the door and went out, letting it +fall to behind him with a bang. And Anstice, left alone, extinguished +both candles impatiently, as though he could not bear even their feeble +light; and going to the open window stood gazing out over the starlit +garden with eyes which saw nothing of the green peacefulness without. + +And on the table, the big brown moth, scorched to death by his adored +flame in the very moment of his most passionate delight, fluttered his +burnt wings feebly and lay still. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Having given Cheniston his word, Anstice set himself to carry out his +share of the bargain with a thoroughness which did not preclude a very +bitter regret that he had made this fatal promise. + +As he had been of late in the habit of spending a good deal of time in +the society of Iris Wayne, it was only natural that his absence should +cause comment at Greengates; but while Lady Laura openly labelled +Anstice as capricious and inclined to rate his own value too highly, Sir +Richard more charitably supposed that the poor fellow was overworked; +and Iris, after a day or two spent in futile conjecture as to the sudden +cessation of his visits, accepted the fact of Anstice's defection with a +composure which was a little hurt. + +She had thought they were such friends. Once or twice she had even +fancied he was beginning to like her--even to herself Iris would not +admit the possibility of any return of liking on her side; and on the +occasion of their meeting in the wayside cottage, when he had bandaged +her wrist, he had spoken to her in a more confidential, more really +intimate manner than he had ever before displayed. + +In the weeks that followed that sudden leap into intimacy, they had been +such good comrades, had enjoyed so many half-playful, half-serious +conversations, had played so many thrilling tennis matches, that it was +small wonder she had begun to look upon him as one of her most genuine +friends; and his sudden absence hurt her pride, and made her wonder +whether, after all, his friendliness had been merely a pretence. + +Once or twice he met her in the village, but he only saluted her and +hurried on his way; while the invitations which the ever-hospitable Sir +Richard insisted on sending him were refused with excuses so shallow +that even the good-natured host of Greengates refrained from comment. + +The contrast between this ungracious behaviour and Bruce Cheniston's +open delight in her society was strongly marked; and the friendliness of +the younger man brought balm to Iris' sore heart, sore with the first +rebuff of her budding womanhood. When Anstice failed her, refused her +invitations, and appeared indifferent to her smiles, it was undoubtedly +soothing to feel that in Cheniston she had a friend who asked nothing +better than to be in her company at all hours, to do her bidding, and to +pay her that half-laughing, half-earnest homage which was so delicate +and sincere a tribute to her charms. + +Anstice had spoken truly when he said the psychological moment was at +hand. Until the day when his visits to Greengates ceased abruptly Iris +had been inclined, ever so unconsciously, to look upon Anstice with a +slightly deeper, more genuine regard than that which she gave to the +other man; and had Anstice been able to seize the moment, to follow up +the impression he had made upon her, it is possible she, would have +listened to him with favour, and the tiny seed of affection which +undoubtedly lay in her heart would have burst into a lovely and precious +blossom which would have beautified and made fragrant the rest of their +lives. + +But Anstice might not seize the moment; and although Bruce Cheniston had +hitherto taken the second place in Iris' esteem, when once she realized +that Anstice had apparently no intention of renewing their late +friendship she gently put the thought of him out of her heart and turned +for relief to the man who had not failed her. + +So matters stood on the morning of Iris' birthday, a glorious day in +mid-July, when the gardens of Greengates were all ablaze with roses and +sweet-peas, with tall white lilies whose golden hearts flung sweetest +incense on the soft air, with great masses of Canterbury bells and giant +phlox making gorgeous splashes of colour, mauve and red and white and +palest pink, against their background of velvet lawns and dark-green +cedar trees. + +This was the day on which Bruce Cheniston had decided to put his fortune +to the test; and as he looked out of his window at Cherry Orchard and +noted the misty blue haze which foretold a day of real summer heat, he +told himself that on such a day as this there could be no need to fear a +reverse in his present luck. + +He whistled as he dressed, and when the breakfast-bell rang he went +downstairs feeling at peace with himself and all the world. + +"'Morning, Chloe. What a day!" He stooped and kissed his sister as he +passed behind her chair, and she looked faintly amused at the unusual +salutation. + +"Yes. A beautiful day." Her deep voice expressed little pleasure in the +morning's beauty. "Are you going anywhere particular that the fine +weather fills you with such joy?" + +"No--only over to Greengates." He was so accustomed to making this reply +that it came out almost automatically and certainly caused Chloe no +surprise. + +"It's Iris' birthday, isn't it, Bruce?" Cherry flatly refused to endow +her uncle with the title which rightly belonged to him. "What are you +going to give her?" + +"Give her? Well, come round here, and you shall see." + +Nothing loth, Cherry obeyed, and stood beside him attentively while he +opened a small leather case and took out a pair of earrings each +consisting of a tiny, pear-shaped moonstone dangling at the end of a +thin platinum chain. + +"Earrings! But Iris hasn't any holes in her ears, my dear!" Cherry's +consternation was genuine. + +"I know that, you little goose! But these don't want holes--see, you +screw them on like this." + +He took one of her little pink ears in his fingers and screwed on the +earring deftly. + +"There, run and look at yourself," he commanded, and she trotted away to +an oval glass which hung on the wall between the long windows. As she +moved, Cheniston passed the remaining earring to his sister. + +"What do you say, Chloe--is it a suitable present for her ladyship!" + +Chloe took up the little trinket with a rather dubious air. + +"Somehow I don't think I can fancy Iris wearing earrings," she said; and +Bruce, who had a respect for his sister's opinion which she herself did +not suspect, looked rueful. + +"But, Chloe, why not? You always wear them?" + +"Certainly I do." As a matter of fact she did, and the pearls or +sapphires which she affected were as much a part of her personality as +her black hair or her narrow blue eyes. "But then Iris is a different +sort of person. She is younger, more natural, more unsophisticated; and +I'm not quite sure whether these pretty things will suit her charming +face." + +"Oh!" Bruce's own face fell, and for once Chloe felt an impulse of +compassion with another's disappointment. + +"At any rate they are very dainty and girlish," she said, handing back +the case. "I congratulate you on your taste, Bruce. You might very +easily have got more elaborate ones--like some of mine--which would have +been very inappropriate to a girl." + +"Why do you always speak of yourself as though you were a middle-aged +woman, Chloe?" asked her brother with a sudden curiosity. "You seem to +forget you are younger than I--why, you are only twenty-six now." + +"Am I?" Her smile was baffling. "In actual years I believe I am. But in +thought, in feeling, in everything, I am a hundred years older than you, +Bruce." + +Cherry's return to her uncle's side with a request to him to take out +"the dangly thing what tickles my ear" cut short Bruce's reply, and +breakfast proceeded tranquilly, while the sun shone gaily and the roses +for which Cherry Orchard was famous scented the soft, warm air which +floated in through the widely-opened windows. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Anstice was in a quandary on this beautiful summer morning. + +Before he had pledged his word to Cheniston to stand aside and leave the +field open to his rival, he had gladly accepted Iris' invitation to her +birthday dinner and dance; but the thought of the dances she had +promised him had changed from a source of anticipatory delight to one of +the sheerest torment. + +It had not been easy to avoid her. There had been hours in which he had +had to restrain himself by every means in his power from rushing over to +Greengates to implore her pardon for his discourtesy, and to beg her to +receive him back into her most desirable favour. It had cost him an +effort whose magnitude had left him cold and sick to greet her distantly +on the rare occasions of their meeting; and many times he had been ready +to throw his promise to the winds, to repudiate the horrible bargain he +had struck, and to tell her plainly in so many words that he loved her +and wanted her for his wife. + +But he never yielded to the temptation. He had pledged his word, and +somehow the thought that he was paying the price, now, for Hilda Ryder's +untimely death, brought, ever and again, a fleeting sense of comfort as +though the sacrifice of his own chance of happiness was an offering laid +at her feet in expiation of the wrong he had all unwittingly wrought +her. + +But his heart sank at the idea of facing Iris once more, and the thought +of her as she would surely be, the centre and queen of all the evening's +gaiety, was almost unendurable. + +At times he told himself that he could not go to Greengates that night. +He was only human, and the sight of her, dressed, as she would surely +be, in some shimmering airy thing which would enhance all her beauty, +would break down his steadfast resolve. He could not be with her in the +warm summer night, hold her in his arms in the dance, while the music of +the violins throbbed in his ears, the perfume of a thousand roses +intoxicated all his senses, and not cry out his love, implore her to be +kind as she was fair, to readmit him to her friendship, and grant him, +presently, the privileges of a lover.... + +And then, in the next moment he told himself he could not bear to miss +the meeting with her. He must go, must see her once more, see the wide +grey eyes beneath their crown of sunny hair, hear her sweet, kind voice, +touch her hand.... + +And then yet another thought beset him. What guarantee had he that Iris +Wayne would welcome him to her birthday feast? He had thrown her +kindness back into her face, had first accepted and then carelessly +repudiated her friendship; and it was only too probable she had written +him down as a casual and discourteous trifler with whom, in future, she +desired to hold no intercourse. + +The sunshiny day which the rest of the world found so beautiful was one +long torment to Anstice. Restless, undecided, unhappy, he went about his +work with set lips and a haggard face, and those of his patients who had +lately found him improved to a new and attractive sociability revised +their later impressions of him in favour of their first and less +pleasing ones. + +At five o'clock, acting on sudden impulse, he rang up Greengates and +asked for Miss Wayne. + +After a short delay she came, and as he heard her soft voice over the +wire Anstice's face grew grim with controlled emotion. + +"Is that you, Dr. Anstice?" + +"Yes, Miss Wayne. I wanted to say--but first, may I wish you--many happy +returns of your birthday?" + +"Thanks very much." Straining his ears to catch every inflection in her +voice, Anstice thought he detected a note of coldness. "By the way, were +those beautiful sweet-peas from you--the ones that came at twelve +o'clock to-day?" + +"I sent them, yes." So much, at least, he had permitted himself to do. + +"They were lovely--thank you so much for them." Iris spoke with a trifle +more warmth, and for a moment Anstice faltered in his purpose. "You are +coming to dinner presently, aren't you? Seven o'clock, because of the +dance." + +"Miss Wayne, I'm sorry ..." the lie almost choked him, but he hurried +on, "... I can't get over to Greengates in time for dinner. I--I have a +call--into the country--and can't get back before eight or nine." + +"Oh!" For a moment Iris was silent, and to the man at the other end of +the wire it seemed an eternity before she spoke again. Then: "I'm +sorry," said Iris gently. "But you will come to the dance afterwards?" + +For a second Anstice wavered. It would be wiser to refuse, to allege +uncertainty, at least, to leave himself a loophole of escape did he find +it impossible to trust himself sufficiently to go. He opened his lips to +tell her he feared it might be difficult to get away, to prepare her for +his probable absence; and then: + +"Of course I will come to the dance," he said steadily. "I would not +miss it for anything in the world!" + +And he rang off hastily, fearing what he might be tempted to say if the +conversation were allowed to continue another moment. + + * * * * * + +It was nearly eleven o'clock when Anstice entered the hall of Greengates +that night; and by that time dancing was in full swing. + +By an irony of Fate he had been called out when just on the point of +starting, and had obeyed the summons reluctantly enough. + +The fact that his importunate patient was a tiny girl who was gasping +her baby life away in convulsions changed his reluctance into an +energetic desire to save the pretty little creature's life at any cost; +but all his skill was of no avail, and an hour after he entered the +house the child died. + +Even then he could not find it in his heart to hurry away. The baby's +parents, who were young and sociable people, had been, like himself, +invited to the dance at Greengates--had, indeed, been ready to start +when the child was taken ill; and the contrast between the young +mother's frantic grief and her glittering ball-gown and jewels struck +Anstice as an almost unendurable irony. + +When at last he was able to leave the stricken house, having done all in +his power to lighten the horror of the dreary hour, he was in no mood +for gaiety, and for a few moments he meditated sending a message to say +he was, after all, unable to be present at the dance. + +Then the vision of Iris rose again before his eyes, and immediately +everything else faded from his world, and he hastened to Greengates, +arriving just as the clock struck eleven. + +He saw her the moment he entered the room after greeting Sir Richard and +Lady Laura in the hall. She was dancing with Cheniston, and Anstice had +never seen her look more radiant. + +She was wearing the very shimmering white frock in which he had pictured +her, a filmy chiffon thing which set off her youthful beauty to its +highest perfection; and the pearls which lay on her milky throat, the +satin slippers which cased her slender feet, the bunch of lilies-of-the +valley at her breast, were details in so charming a picture that others +besides Anstice found her distractingly pretty to-night. + +And as he noted her happy look, the air of serene content with which she +yielded her slim form to her partner's guidance, the light in the grey +eyes which smiled into Cheniston's face, Anstice's heart gave one bitter +throb and then lay heavy as a stone in his breast. + +He hardly doubted that she was won already; and in Cheniston's proud and +assured bearing he thought he read the story of that winning. + +As he stood against the wall, unconscious of the curious glances +directed towards him, the music ceased, and the dancers came pouring out +of the ballroom to seek the fresher air without. + +Passing him on her partner's arm, Iris suddenly withdrew her hand and +turned to greet the late comer. + +"Dr. Anstice!" It seemed as though her inward happiness must needs find +an outlet, so radiant was the smile with which she greeted him. "You +have really come! I thought you had failed us after all." + +"No--I was sent for, at the last moment." Something in his strained tone +seemed to startle the girl, for her eyes dilated, and with an effort +Anstice spoke more lightly. "I couldn't get away, Miss Wayne, but you +won't visit my misfortunes on my head, will you? You promised me some +dances----" + +"One has had to go." She looked down at her card. "I kept the fifth for +you, but you may have the next if you like. I did not engage myself for +that, thinking"--she paused, then smiled at him frankly--"thinking you +might come after all." + +Scarcely knowing what he did Anstice made some rejoinder; and then +Cheniston, who had turned away for a moment, appeared to observe Anstice +for the first time, and giving him a nod said rather curtly: + +"Evening, Anstice; you've got here then, after all? Well, Iris, shall we +go and get cool after that energetic waltz?" + +They drifted out into the hall; and watching them go Anstice told +himself again that Cheniston had won the day. + + * * * * * + +"Shall we sit out, Dr. Anstice?" He thought Iris looked at him rather +strangely. "I ... I am rather tired--and hot--but still----" + +"Let us sit out by all means, Miss Wayne. Shall we go into the +conservatory? It is quite cool there--and quiet." + +She agreed at once; and two minutes later he found her a seat in a +corner beneath a big overshadowing palm. + +Now that she was beside him he felt his self-control failing him. She +was so pretty in her white gown with the pearls on her neck and the +delicate moonstones dangling in her little ears.... + +"Dr. Anstice"--it was the girl who broke the silence--"do you know you +have treated us very badly of late? You have never been near us for +weeks, and our tennis match has not been decided after all!" + +"I know I've behaved disgracefully"--his voice shook, and she half +regretted her impulsive words--"but--well, I'm not exactly a free agent, +Miss Wayne." + +"No, I suppose a doctor rarely is," she answered thoughtfully; and he +did not correct her misapprehension of his meaning. + +"But I don't want you to think me ungrateful for your kindness." So +much, at least, he might say. "If I have appeared discourteous, please +believe that in my heart I have always fully appreciated your +goodness--and that of your father." + +She said nothing for a moment, looking down at her satin slippers +absently; and he did not attempt to interrupt her reverie. + +Then, with rather startling irrelevance, she said slowly: + +"Dr. Anstice, have you ever been in Egypt? I know you have travelled a +lot, and I thought perhaps----" + +"No." Suddenly at this apparently innocent question a foreboding of evil +fell on Anstice's soul with a crushing weight. "As you say, I have +travelled a good deal; but somehow I have never visited Egypt. Why do +you ask?" + +"Because----" For yet another moment Iris hesitated, as though uncertain +whether or no to proceed. And then, suddenly, she turned to face him +with something in her eyes which Anstice could not fathom. "I asked +because it is possible I may go to live in Egypt some day." + +"I see," said Anstice very quietly. "You mean--Miss Wayne, I won't +pretend to misunderstand you--you mean that Cheniston has asked you to +marry him, and you have said yes." + +Now the rosy colour flooded the girl's face until even her ears were +pink; but her grey eyes met his frankly, and when she spoke her voice +rang happily. + +"You've guessed my secret very quickly," she said, relieved +unconsciously by his calm manner and friendly tone. "Yes. Mr. Cheniston +asked me to marry him an hour ago, and I agreed. And so, as he wants to +be married almost at once, I shall have to prepare myself to live in +Egypt, for a time at least." + +"I don't think you need dread the prospect," he said, and his voice was +creditably steady, though the world seemed to be crashing down in ruins +around him. "Egypt must be a wonderfully fascinating country, and +nowadays one doesn't look upon it as a land of exile. When do you think +you will be going, Miss Wayne?" + +"Well, Bruce has to be back in November," she said, "so if we are really +to be married first"--again the rosy colour flooded her face--"it +doesn't give me much time to get ready." + +"No. I suppose I ought to congratulate you." He was beginning to feel he +could not bear this torture much longer. "At least--it is Cheniston who +is to be congratulated. But you--I can only wish you all possible +happiness. I _do_ wish it--from the bottom of my heart." + +He held out his hand and she put her slender fingers into it. For just +the fraction of a second longer than convention required he held them in +his clasp; then he laid her hand down gently on her filmy chiffon knee. + +"Miss Wayne"--he spoke rather hoarsely--"I wonder if you will think me a +bear if I run away after this dance? I would not have missed these few +minutes with you for anything the world might offer me; but somehow I am +not in tune with gaiety to-night." + +She shot a quick glance at his haggard face; and even in the midst of +her own happy excitement she felt a vivid impulse of sympathy. + +"Dr. Anstice, I'm so sorry." Just for an instant she laid her fingers +gently on his arm; and the light touch made him wince. "You said when +you came in that you had been detained, and you looked so serious I +thought it must have been something dreadful which had kept you. I don't +wonder you find all this"--she waved her small white fan comprehensively +round--"jars upon you--now." + +"Yes," he said, snatching at the opening she gave him, and longing only +for the moment when he might say good-bye and leave her adorable, +maddening presence. "It jars, as you say--not because it isn't all +delightful and inspiring in itself, but because"--suddenly he felt an +inexplicably savage desire to hurt her, as a man in pain may seek to +wound his tenderest nurse--"because not many miles away from here +there's a poor mother weeping, like Rachel, for her child, and refusing +to be comforted." + +She turned pale, and he felt like a murderer as he watched the light die +out of her big grey eyes. + +"A child--the child you went to see--it died?" + +"Yes. She was just a year old--and their only child." + +Now, to his remorse, he saw that she was crying; and instantly the cruel +impulse died out of his heart and a wild desire to comfort her took its +place. + +"Miss Wayne, for God's sake don't cry! I had no right to tell you--it +was brutal, unpardonable of me to cloud your happiness at such a moment +as this. I ... I've no excuse to offer--none, at least, that you could +understand--but it makes me feel the meanest criminal alive to see you +cry!" + +No woman could have withstood the genuine remorse in his tone; and Iris +dabbed her eyes with a little lacy handkerchief and smiled forgiveness +rather tremulously. + +"Don't reproach yourself, Dr. Anstice. I ... I think I'm rather foolish +to-night. And at any rate"--perhaps after all she had divined the +soreness which lay beneath his spoken congratulations--"I'm sure of one +thing--you did your best to comfort the poor mother." + +"Thank you for that, at least," he said; and then, in a different key: +"You won't think me rude if I leave after this?" + +"Of course not." Suddenly Iris rose, and Anstice, surprised, followed +her example. "Dr. Anstice, if you don't mind I'll ask you to take me +back now. I think"--she smiled rather shyly--"I think I must just go and +bathe my eyes. I don't want any one to ask inconvenient questions!" + +Filled with anger against himself Anstice acquiesced at once; and in the +hall they parted, Iris speeding upstairs to her room in search of water +and Eau de Cologne with which to repair the ravages his heartless speech +had caused. + +At the last came a consolatory moment. + +"Dr. Anstice." She held out her hand once more. "You are the only +person--except my father--who knows what has happened to-night. Somehow +I wanted to tell you because"--she coloured faintly, and her eyes +dropped for a second--"because I think you and I are--really--friends in +spite of everything." + +"Thank you, Miss Wayne." His tone was so low she could barely catch the +words. "Believe me, I value your friendship above everything else in the +world." + +He wrung her hand hard; and as she left him with a last fleeting smile +he turned and found himself face to face with Bruce Cheniston. + +At that moment the hall was empty; and before the other man could speak +Anstice said quickly: + +"So you've won the day, Cheniston. Well, congratulations--though God +knows I wish with all my heart that you had failed." + +"Thanks." Cheniston ignored the latter half of the sentence with a smile +Anstice felt to be insolent. "So Miss Wayne told you? I had hoped to be +the first to give you the information." + +"Miss Wayne told me, yes," said Anstice, taking his hat and coat from +the chair where he had thrown them on his late entrance, and turning +towards the door. "And I don't know that there is anything more to be +said between us. Oh, yes, there is, though. One word, Cheniston." The +other man had followed him to the door and now stood on the steps +looking out into the fragrant July night. "I think that in all fairness +you will now agree that I have paid my debt to you; wiped it out to the +uttermost farthing. In future"--turning on the lowest stop he faced the +man who stood above him, and in his face was a look which no other human +being had ever seen there--"in future we are quits, you and I. The debt +is paid in full." + +And before Bruce Cheniston could frame any reply to his words Anstice +turned away and was lost in the soft summer darkness. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +On the day before that fixed for Iris Wayne's wedding a large garden +party was held at Greengates; and fortunately the late September +afternoon was all that could be desired in regard to sunshine and soft +breezes. + +The wedding itself was to be a comparatively quiet affair, only a score +or two of intimate friends and relations being invited to the house +after the ceremony; but Lady Laura had ordained that on the previous day +half the countryside was to be entertained; and although there were some +people who did not altogether approve of the match--for Bruce Cheniston +was, after all, the brother of the notorious Mrs. Carstairs--the +majority were only too ready to follow Sir Richard Wayne's lead and +extend a hand of friendship to Miss Wayne's prospective bridegroom. + +Anstice had received an invitation to both ceremonies, and had accepted, +provisionally, for each; but in his heart he knew that no power on earth +could induce him to see Iris Wayne married to another man; and although +he duly appeared at Greengates while the garden party was in full swing +he only remained there a brief half-hour. + +As he was bidding Lady Laura good-bye, Iris, with whom he had as yet +only exchanged a couple of words, came up to him with a friendly little +smile on her lips. + +"Are you leaving us already, Dr. Anstice? I don't believe you've even +had a cup of tea--or what Daddy calls a peg. Have you?" + +"Yes, thanks, Miss Wayne." He lied so convincingly that the girl +believed him. "I'm just off again--you must excuse me, but you know my +time is not my own." + +"No." He thought she looked a little pale this afternoon. "I quite +understand, and I think it is very nice of you to come at all. You are +coming to-morrow?" + +"I hope so." Again he lied, and something in the frank eyes which were +raised to his made him ashamed of his mendacity. "Of course--it's +possible I may be prevented, but in any case, Miss Wayne, please +remember my best wishes will be yours all day." + +As though reminded of something she spoke impulsively. + +"Dr. Anstice, I've never thanked you--except in a note--for your lovely +present. It is really quite the most uncommon one I have had, and I +shall value it immensely." + +"I am glad you like it," he said. He had sent her a pair of ancient +Chinese vases which his father had received many years ago from the +grateful wife of a mandarin to whom he had once rendered a service. "I +hardly knew what to send you, and then I remembered you once said you +liked curios." + +"I do--and these are so lovely." As she stood talking to him in the +sunlight Anstice told himself that this was really his farewell to the +girl he had known and loved, and his eyes could hardly leave her +adorable face. The next time they met--if Fate ordained that they should +meet again--she would be Bruce Cheniston's wife; and believing as he did +that this would be their last meeting as man and maid, Anstice took the +hand she held out to him with a very sore heart. + +"Good-bye, Miss Wayne." Just for a moment he hesitated, feeling that he +could not bear to let her go like this; and the girl, puzzled by his +manner, waited rather uneasily, her hand in his. Then he gave her +fingers a last clasp, wringing them unconsciously hard, and let them go. + +"Good-bye, Dr. Anstice." Standing as she did on the threshold of a new +life, face to face with a mystery she dreaded, yet was prepared, to +fathom, perhaps Iris' perceptions were a little quickened. All at once +she saw that this man looked upon her with different eyes from the other +men she knew; and the memory of her strange fancy earlier in the summer +gave her the key suddenly to his rather curious manner of bidding her +farewell. + +With a foolish, but purely womanly, impulse of compassion, she spoke +again, laying her hand for a second on his arm with a friendliness which +no man could have misunderstood. + +"No, Dr. Anstice. Not good-bye. We shall meet again to-morrow, at any +rate; so let us just say--_au revoir!_" + +The kind little hand, the friendly words, almost broke down Anstice's +self-control. + +With a huge effort he kept his voice steady; but his face was grey as he +answered her. + +"If you wish, Miss Wayne--from the bottom of my heart let it +be--only--_au revoir!_" + + * * * * * + +And Fate, who foresaw in what wise their next meeting should take place, +probably chuckled to herself, like the malignant lady she can be, at +this parting between the two who might have been lovers but for a +miscalculated shot in the days gone by. + + * * * * * + +When Anstice had finished his day's work it was barely seven o'clock. +Fortunately for him he had no very serious cases on his hands just now, +and there was no need, save in the event of an urgent call, for him to +go out again when he had eaten his solitary dinner. + +He was thankful for the respite, for the strain of the last few weeks, +the weeks of Iris' engagement, had been severe; and mind and body were +alike overtasked and weary. For several days he had suffered from a +severe neuralgic headache, and to-night the torture in head and eyes +threatened to overwhelm him. + +For three or four nights he had hardly slept; and on more than one +occasion he had thought, with a queer, detached interest, of the relief +which morphia might bring to his tormented nerves; but with the thought +came another--the picture of Iris Wayne who had bidden him remember that +this was not the way out of the tragic muddle into which his life had +been plunged by his own action. + +She had believed him when he told her he would not again deliver himself +into bondage to the fatal drug, and although he had not given her his +promise--foreseeing even then the possibility of this black hour--he had +meant, at the moment, to turn his back for ever on the seductive thing +which whispers such sweet, such deliriously fatal promises to the man in +the clutch of any agony he does not know how to bear. + +So, although on the last two or three occasions he had not won the +victory without a struggle, Anstice had managed to win through without +lowering his flag; but to-night he began to wonder whether after all it +were worth while waging the unequal war any longer. + +He had parted from Iris Wayne, as he thought, for ever. As the wife of +Bruce Cheniston he must henceforward regard her; and although he was no +saint, to covet his neighbour's wife was not compatible with Anstice's +code of decency. + +He might love her still--at this moment he thought he knew that he would +love her always--but for all practical purposes their friendship, with +all its privileges and its obligations, was at an end. And this being +so, why should he hesitate to gain, if he might, relief from this agony +of mind and body by the help of the drug he had hitherto forsworn? + +It is always hard on a man when to physical anguish is added agony of +mind, since in that dual partnership of pain no help may be rendered +either by its complementary part; and it does not need a physician to +know that such help given by the one to the other is frequently a ruling +factor in the recovery of the sick body or mind. And to-night Anstice +was enduring a physical and mental suffering which taxed mind and body +to their utmost limits, and absolutely precluded the possibility of any +helpful reaction one upon the other. + +His eyeballs felt as though they were being pierced by red-hot needles; +while the stabbing pain in his head increased every moment. Had he +witnessed such suffering in another he would instantly have set about +alleviating it so far as his skill might allow; but he told himself that +there was only one effectual remedy for him and that was forbidden him +by his implied promise to Iris Wayne. And so he sat on in a corner of +the couch in his dim and shadowy room, and endured the excruciating pain +as best he might. + +The house was very quiet, and suddenly he remembered that the servants +were out, witnessing the fireworks which Sir Richard had provided in the +park of Greengates for the entertainment of the village on the eve of +his daughter's wedding. + +They had asked permission to go, and he had granted it readily enough; +and now he was grateful for the peace and tranquillity which their +absence engendered in the dark and quiet house. + +Dimmer and more gloomy grew the room in which he sat--his +consulting-room, chosen to-night for its long window open to the garden +without. More and more thickly clustered the shadows round him as he sat +half-sunk in a corner of the big leather couch. Once an owl hooted in +the tall trees outside the house, and the strange, melancholy note +seemed a fit accompaniment to the eerie stillness of the night. + +Worse and ever more hard to bear grew the fierce throbbing in his head +and eyes, but his wretchedness of mind ran a good race with his bodily +suffering; and had he been asked, suddenly, the nature of the pain which +tormented him he would have found it hard to answer immediately. + +Only as the quiet hours wore on he began to feel that the limit of his +endurance was almost reached. He told himself that even Iris herself +would not willingly sanction such suffering as his had now become. In +all the world he desired only one boon--oblivion, unconsciousness, rest +from this state of being which was surely unendurable; and as a more +exquisitely painful throb of anguish shot through his head he plunged +his hand into his breast-pocket in search of a certain little case which +was generally to be found there during his day's round. + +But he remembered, with a sudden keen disappointment, that he had +changed his coat on returning home to dinner, and the means of +alleviation which he sought were not at hand. + +He half rose, intending to go in search of the thing he wanted; but the +effort of moving was too much, and he sank back again with an irritable +groan and prepared to endure still more of this misery. + +Next he thought he would try the effect of a cigarette, but the matches +were not on the table before him. That obstacle, however, need not be +insurmountable, for in a drawer at his elbow he kept a supply, and +moving cautiously, for every movement set his nerves jangling, he turned +on the couch and opened the drawer to seek the matches which should be +there. + +He found them immediately, and was in the act of taking one from the box +when his eye fell on a small package which somehow roused a strange +feeling of interest in his pain-shrouded mind. + +It seemed familiar--at least he thought he remembered handling it +before, and by a queer twist of memory he thought of Mrs. Carstairs as +he took up the mysterious little parcel and turned it about in his +hands. + +Yet his throbbing brain would not allow him to feel certain what was +really inside the packet, and with a sudden access of nervous irritation +he broke the seal which held its contents a mystery, and tore off the +enwrapping papers. + +And as he realized what it was that the paper had hidden he uttered an +exclamation in which surprise and dismay and relief were oddly blended. + +In his hand he held a box containing a hypodermic syringe and a supply +of morphia, and now he remembered how Mrs. Carstairs had told him of her +purchase of the same, and her subsequent decision to let the insidious +thing alone. She had given him the packet without apparent reluctance, +and as his own words, "I shan't be tempted to steal yours for my private +use," came flashing back to his memory he smiled, rather cynically, to +himself. + +"If I believed in signs and omens I should take this as an unmistakable +invitation to me to hesitate no longer." He fingered the syringe +thoughtfully. "And upon my soul I don't see why I shouldn't accept it as +a sign. In any case"--all the pent-up bitterness of his soul found vent +in the words--"in future what I do can have no interest for Iris +Cheniston!" + +As if the sound of the name, premature as it was, had put the finishing +touch to his reckless cynicism, he hesitated no longer. + +With an almost savage gesture he struck a match and lighted a candle on +his writing-table; and as the little yellow flame sprang up, and strove, +vainly, to enlighten the encompassing gloom, he set about his +preparations with a sudden energy in striking contrast with his previous +lethargy. + +When all was ready there came a last second of hesitation. With the +syringe in his hand, his arm bared, he paused, and for a last poignant +moment Iris' face rose before him in the flickering light. But now her +eyes had no power to move him from his purpose. Rather they maddened him +with their steadfast radiance, and with a muttered oath he looked aside +from that appealing vision and turned the key, recklessly, in the door +which led to the Paradise of Fools. + + * * * * * + +Nearly an hour later the telephone bell rang, sharply, insistently in +the hall. It went on ringing, again and again, a curiously vital sound +in the quiet house; but Anstice did not hear it, and at length the +ringing ceased. + +It was nearly half an hour later when another bell rang, this time the +bell of the front door; but again no answer came to the imperative +summons. And now the bell rang on, so continuously, so persistently, +that at last its sound penetrated the dulled hearing of the man who +huddled in a corner of the big couch, mind and body alike dazed and +incapable of making any effort to understand the meaning of this oddly +insistent noise. + +He was only conscious of a desire for it to cease; of a longing, not +sufficiently vivid to be acute, but the strongest emotion of which he +was at the moment capable, for a return to the silence which had +hitherto prevailed; and although the noise disturbed and angered him it +never occurred to him that to answer the summons would be the best way +of ending the irritating sound. + +So that bell too went unanswered; and in due course it also ceased to +ring. + +But that was not to be the end. + +Dimly he heard the sound of voices, of footsteps in the hall, of the +striking of a match and the hissing of the gas. Then there was a +confused noise which was like and yet unlike a rapping on the panels of +the door of the room in which he sat; but he felt no inclination +whatever to move or make any response; and even when at length the door +itself opened, slowly and tentatively, he merely looked up with languid +curiosity to see what these phenomena might imply. + + * * * * * + +And in the doorway stood Iris Wayne, her face very pale, one hand +holding a flimsy scarf about her, with Bruce Cheniston by her side. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Chloe Carstairs had not been among the guests at Greengates that +afternoon. In vain had Sir Richard and Lady Laura invited her, in vain +had Iris added her entreaties. On this point Chloe was adamant, and +although her brother argued with her for an hour or more on the +advisability of making her reappearance in Littlefield society under the +aegis of the Waynes, she merely shook her head with an inscrutable +smile. + +"If I cared to re-enter Littlefield society," she said calmly, "I should +have done so long ago. But I am really so indifferent to those people +that I have no desire to meet them, even as a guest at Greengates." + +"I didn't suppose you wanted to meet them--for your own sake," retorted +her brother, "for a duller and more stupid set of people were never +born; but as Iris is to be your sister-in-law I think you might stretch +a point and go with me to Greengates this afternoon." + +But Chloe shook her head. + +"No, Bruce. I am sorry to disappoint you, but it cannot be done. As you +know, I am fond of Iris"--knowing his sister Bruce was quite satisfied +with this moderate expression of her affection--"but I won't go to +Greengates to-day, nor to the wedding to-morrow. If you like to bring +Iris down to say good-bye this evening when all the people are gone I +shall like to see her." + +"All right." Bruce gave up the contest. "I'm staying on--quietly--to +dinner; but I'll bring her down for half an hour afterwards." + +"Very well." Chloe rose from the breakfast-table as she spoke, and +sauntered to the window, from whence she looked over the pretty +garden with appreciative eyes. "It is lucky the weather is so +beautiful--Greengates will look at its best on a day like this." + +And Bruce agreed heartily as he stepped on to the lawn to enjoy his +after-breakfast pipe. + + * * * * * + +True to his promise Bruce motored his _fiancee_ over to Cherry Orchard +in the gloaming of the September evening, after a somewhat protracted +argument with Lady Laura, whose sense of propriety was, so she averred, +outraged by the project. + +Sir Richard, however, to whom the loss of his only daughter was a deep +though hidden grief, gave his consent readily enough when he saw that +Iris really wished to bid her friend good-bye; and making Bruce promise +to bring her back in good time he himself went to the door to pack them +safely into the motor. + +"Take care of her, Bruce--she is very precious to me!" He laid his hand +on the young man's arm, and his voice held an appeal which Bruce +involuntarily answered. + +"Trust me, sir!" There was a note of rather unusual feeling in his tone. +"She can't be more precious to you than she is to me!" + +And with the words he got his car in motion and glided away down the +dusky, scented avenue beneath the tall trees which had not, as yet, put +off their summer tints for their autumn livery of scarlet and gold. + +Somehow they did not talk much as they sped on through the cool, +perfumed night. Both, indeed, felt a sense of shyness in each other's +company on this last evening; and it was with something like relief that +they realized they were at Cherry Orchard in less time than they +generally allowed for the little journey. + +The hall door, as usual, stood hospitably open; but there was no sign of +Chloe, waiting for them with her gracious welcome; and as they crossed +the threshold both felt instinctively that something was wrong. + +A moment later their suspicions were confirmed, for Hagyard, the +manservant, who adored both his mistress and her small daughter, came +forward to meet them with an air of relief which did not conceal the +anxiety in his whole bearing. + +"Mr. Cheniston--sir--there's been an accident--Miss Cherry--she's +burnt----" + +"Burnt!" Iris and Bruce echoed the word simultaneously; and the man +hurried on. + +"Yes, sir, yes, miss--Miss Cherry got playing with matches--Tochatti +left her alone for a moment when she did not ought to have done"--in his +distress his usual correctness of speech and deportment fell away from +Hagyard, leaving him a mere human man--"and Miss Cherry's dress--a +little flimsy bit of muslin it was, caught fire, and before it was put +out she'd got burned----" + +"Where is Mrs. Carstairs?" + +"Upstairs with Miss Cherry, sir. We've been ringing up the doctor--but +we can't get no answer----" + +Bruce cut him short without ceremony. + +"Come, Iris, let's see what's to be done. We can go ourselves and fetch +the doctor, anyway." + +Together they ran up the broad staircase, and Bruce led the way to +Cherry's little room, where, as he guessed, the child was lying. + +As they entered Chloe Carstairs looked round; and her eyes appeared +almost black, so dilated were the pupils. + +"Bruce!" Her deep voice held a note of relief. "You have come at +last--now perhaps we can do something for the child." + +"Is she badly burnt?" Iris approached softly and stood looking down at +the moaning little figure in the bed. + +"Yes." Chloe's manner was impressive by reason of its very quietness. +"She is--very badly burnt, and until the doctor comes we can do so +little...." + +"You have done _something_ for her?" + +"Oh, yes--Tochatti and I have done all we can, but"--for a second +Chloe's face quivered--"we can't do anything more, and I'm afraid if +something isn't done soon----" + +The child on the bed gave a sudden convulsive cry, and Chloe's white +face grew still paler. + +"You see--she's in horrible pain, and--oh, why doesn't the doctor come? +We've rung up again and again, and they've never answered!" + +"Shall we go and fetch him, Chloe? The car's here, and we'll bring him +back in no time!" He turned to Iris. "You'll come?" + +She hesitated. + +"Won't you go--and I'll stay here?" + +Chloe looked up at that. + +"No, Iris. I don't want you to stay--yet. Go with Bruce, and when you +come back you shall stay--if you will." + +"Very well." Iris deemed it best to do as she was requested. "We will +go--immediately--we shall soon be back." + +They ran downstairs together as swiftly as they had run up a few minutes +earlier; and in an incredibly short space of time the car was flying +through the sweet night air once more. + +Arriving at the Gables they could win no response to their ringing; but +it was imperative they should gain an entrance; and so it came about +that the first time Iris entered Anstice's house she entered it +unheralded, and unwelcomed by any friendly greeting. + +So, too, it came about that when Anstice at last awoke to the fact that +there were other human beings in the house beside himself he realized, +with a pang of consternation and amazement sufficiently sharp to pierce +even through the fog which clouded his spirit, that one of his uninvited +guests was the girl from whom, a few short hours earlier, he had parted, +as he thought, for ever. + +He half rose from the couch on which he crouched, and stared at the +advancing figures with haunted eyes. + +"I ... I ..." His voice, husky, uncertain, brought both his visitors to +a halt; and for a wild moment he fancied that after all they were no +real beings, only more than usually vivid shadows, projected visions +from the whirling phantasmagoria of his brain. The light behind them, +streaming in through the open door, confused him, made him feel as +though this were all a trick of the nerves, a kind of chaotic nightmare; +and with a muttered curse at his own folly in imagining for one moment +that Iris Wayne herself stood before him, he fell back on the couch and +closed his aching eyes wearily. + +"Anstice--I say, you're wanted--badly--at Cherry Orchard." Surely that +was Bruce Cheniston's voice which beat upon his ears until it reached +his inner sense. Yet what was that he was saying ... something about an +accident ... to Cherry ... but the time of cherries was over ... surely +now the summer was dead ... he was cold, bitterly cold, the fire must be +out, his teeth were chattering ... there was a mist before his eyes.... + +"Dr. Anstice, is anything the matter? Are you ill?" + +That voice belonged to no one on earth but Iris Wayne, yet that +insubstantial grey shadow which seemed to speak was only another ghost, +a figment of his overwrought brain. He wished--how he wished--that these +ghosts would leave him, would return to the haunted place whence they +came and allow him to sink once more into the blessed oblivion from +which they called him with their thin, far-away voices.... + +"It's no use, Iris!" Cheniston spoke abruptly, puzzled by the other +man's strange behaviour, to which as yet he could assign no cause. "The +man's asleep--or dazed--or--or"--suddenly a suspicion swept into his +brain--"or perhaps there's a less creditable cause for this +extraordinary behaviour." + +"What do you mean, Bruce?" Iris' grey eyes dilated and her face +blanched. "Is he--ill--or----" + +"I am not--ill, Miss Wayne." Somehow he had caught her words, her dear +voice had penetrated through the fog which enveloped his senses. "Don't, +please, be afraid.... I ... I am only ..." + +"Anyway you're not fit to speak to a lady," cut in Cheniston incisively. +"We came to fetch you to Cherry Orchard; there's been on accident, my +little niece is badly hurt and Mrs. Carstairs wanted you--but it's +evident you're not in a fit state to come...." + +Once more the fog lifted for a moment; and although he felt everything +to be whirling round him Anstice rose unsteadily to his feet and faced +his accuser. + +Through the open door the light streamed on to his haggard face; and as +she saw the ravages which suffering had wrought in him Iris uttered an +exclamation. + +"Don't be afraid, Miss Wayne." He could only, it seemed, repeat himself. +"I ... I didn't expect any one coming here." He spoke slowly, a pause +between each word. "I ... if there's anything--I can do----" + +"There isn't--unless you can pull yourself together sufficiently to come +to Cherry Orchard," said Cheniston coldly. "And judging from your +appearance you can't do that." + +The contempt in his voice stung Anstice momentarily into self-defence. + +"What are you implying?" He spoke a little more clearly now, "I ... I +believe after all I'm ill--but----" + +At that moment Bruce's eyes, roving here and there, caught sight of a +small decanter of brandy which stood on the table at his elbow. As a +matter of fact it had been brought there for a patient whose nerves had +failed him, earlier in the day, on hearing what practically amounted to +a sentence of death; but to Cheniston the innocent object appeared as +the confirmation of his suspicions, and his lip curled. + +"Come along, Iris." His disdain was cruel. "We must go and find some one +else--some one who hasn't fuddled his wits like our friend here." + +Iris' eyes, following his, had seen the brandy; and in a flash of +insight she knew what he meant. But before she could speak, could utter +the denial which trembled on her lips, Anstice himself interposed. + +"You are mistaken, Cheniston." He still spoke haltingly, but his eyes +looked less dim than they had done a moment ago. "That"--he pointed to +the decanter--"is not my particular vice. I confess I am not myself +to-night; and I fear I'm not capable of attending any one for the +present; but it is not brandy which is responsible, I assure you of +that." + +He stopped, feeling suddenly that the effort of speech was too much for +him. A terrible dizziness was overwhelming him ... he had only one +desire on earth, that Iris Wayne would leave him, that he might sink +down on to the couch again, and let the fathomless sea which was surging +round him drown his soul and senses in its rolling flood.... + +Yet by a great effort he stood upright, steadying himself by the edge of +the table; and through all his mental and physical misery he saw Iris' +grey eyes fixed upon his face with a great pity in their depths. + +"Dr. Anstice"--regardless of Bruce's presence she took up the hypodermic +syringe which lay on the table, gleaming in a strong beam of light which +streamed through the open door--"you have been trying _this_ way +out--again?" + +Her voice, which held no condemnation, only an overwhelming compassion, +drove back for a moment those cruel waves which surged around him; and +when he answered her his voice was almost steady. + +"Yes, Miss Wayne. I ... I could find no other way, and so--I took this +one." + +Iris placed the syringe down gently on the table, and her eyes were full +of tears. + +"Dr. Anstice, I'm sorry," she said in a low tone; and the pity in her +voice nearly broke his heart. + +"Miss Wayne--I----" + +What he would have said she never knew; for Bruce Cheniston broke in +angrily, annoyed by a scene to which he held no key. + +"Look here, Iris, we mustn't waste time. Cherry's badly hurt, and since +Dr. Anstice can't come someone else must be found. Come along, we'll be +off and find another doctor--one who can be relied upon." + +The mists were closing in on Anstice once more, the hungry sea which +billowed round him threatened to engulf him body and soul. Yet he +thought he heard Iris striving to silence Cheniston's cruel words, he +could have sworn he saw her eyes, big with tears, shining through the +mist which kept him from her; and with a mental effort which turned him +cold he spoke once more to her before she left him. + +"Miss Wayne ... please don't condemn me altogether ... I did not give in +at once ... but this seemed--before God, I thought it was the only way +out--to-night...." + +And then the miracle happened. Regardless of the man who stood fuming by +her side, Iris laid her soft hand on Anstice's arm and spoke one last +gentle word. + +"Dr. Anstice, I believe you--and good-bye! But--oh, do, do remember--for +my sake let me ask you to remember that this is _not_ the true way out!" + +And then, as Cheniston took her arm impatiently to lead her away, she +smiled through the tears which threatened to blind her, and went out +from his presence without one reproachful word. + + * * * * * + +When she had gone he stood gazing after her for a long moment, and the +look in his face would have broken the heart of a woman who had loved +him. Then, with a despairing feeling that now nothing mattered in all +the world, he sank down again on the couch and let the flood overwhelm +him as it would. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +As the clocks were striking ten on the following morning, the morning of +Iris Wayne's wedding day, Anstice came slowly down the garden to where +his car waited by the gate. + +It was a glorious September morning, the whole world bathed in a flood +of golden sunshine, and the soft, warm air was heavy with the scent of +sweet-peas, of stocks, of the hundred and one fragrant flowers which +deck the late summer days. Away over the fields hung an enchanting blue +haze which promised yet greater heat when it too should have dissolved +before the mellow rays of the sun; and if there be any truth in the old +saw that happy is the portion of the bride on whom the sun shall shine, +then truly the lot of Iris Wayne should be a happy one. + +But in Anstice's face there was no reflected sunshine on this auspicious +morning. Rather did he look incredibly haggard and worn, and his +colourless lips and purple-shadowed eyes were in strangest contrast to +the smiling face of Nature. + +It was only by a very strong effort of will that Anstice had driven +himself forth to embark upon his day's work. The horrible night through +which he had passed had left traces on both body and soul; and the +thought of that which was to happen to-day, the thought of the ceremony +in the little flower-decked church by which the girl he adored would be +given as wife to another man was nothing short of torture to this man +who loved her. + +He would have given half he possessed to be able to blot out this day +from his calendar--to pass the whole of it in a state of oblivion, of +forgetfulness, to cheat life of its fiercest suffering for a few hours +at least; but Iris herself blocked the way to that last indulgence. She +had bidden him remember--for her sake--that the way he had taken was not +in truth the way out; and although every nerve in his body cried out for +relief, nothing in the world could have persuaded him to mar Iris' +wedding-day by an act whose commission would have grieved her had she +known of it. + +And since to sit at home, brooding over the dimly-remembered events of +the preceding night, would be fatal, there was nothing for it but to go +out and strive to forget his own mental agony in an attempt to alleviate +the physical suffering of those who trusted him to relieve their bodily +woes at least. + +He was about to enter his car when he heard the hoot of a motor-horn +behind him; and turning round, one foot on the step, saw his friendly +rival, Dr. Willows, driving up to intercept him. + +"Hallo, Anstice, glad you're not out. I wanted to see you." + +Anstice moved forward to meet him, but Dr. Willows, an agile little man +of middle age, hopped out of his car, and taking Anstice's arm moved +with him out of ear-shot of the waiting chauffeur. + +"Well?" Anstice's voice was not inviting. + +"It's about that affair at Cherry Orchard." Involuntarily Anstice's arm +stiffened, and the other man dropped it as he went on speaking. "I was +called in last night, and hearing you were ill--by the way, are you +better now?" He broke off abruptly and peered into Anstice's face with +disconcerting keenness. + +"Quite, thanks. It was only a temporary indisposition," returned Anstice +coldly; and Dr. Willows relaxed his gaze. + +"Glad to hear it--though you look pretty seedy this morning. You know +you really work too hard, Anstice. I assure you your predecessor didn't +take half the trouble with his patients that you do----" + +"You'll excuse me reminding you that I have not begun my round yet." +Anstice interrupted him impatiently. "You were saying you were called in +to Cherry Orchard----" + +"Yes. The little girl was badly burnt--owing to some carelessness on the +part of the servants--and since you were not available----" + +"Who told you I was not available?" His tone was grim. + +"Why, Miss Wayne, of course. You know she and Mr. Cheniston came on to +see me after finding you weren't able to go owing to being seedy +yourself"--even Anstice's sore spirit could not doubt the little man's +absolute ignorance of the nature of his supposed illness--"and they +asked me to go in your place. So as it was an urgent case of course I +did not hesitate to go." + +"Of course not." Anstice strove to speak naturally. "Well, you went?" + +"Yes, and treated the child. As you know, she is only a kiddie, and the +shock has been as bad as the actual burns, though they are severe +enough." + +"Have you been there to-day?" + +"No--that's what I came to see you about. I stayed pretty late last +night, and left the child asleep; but now, of course, you will take over +the case. Mrs. Carstairs understood I was only filling your place, you +know." + +"Do you think"--Anstice hesitated oddly, and Dr. Willows told himself +the man looked shockingly ill--"do you think Mrs. Carstairs would prefer +you to continue the case?" + +"Good Lord, no!" Dr. Willows stared. "Why, what bee have you got in your +bonnet now? I told you Mrs. Carstairs knew I was only representing you +because you were ill, and couldn't come, and I told her I would run over +first thing this morning and see if you were able to take on the case +yourself." + +"What did Mrs. Carstairs say to that?" + +"She agreed, of course. And if I were you"--Dr. Willows felt vaguely +uncomfortable as he stood there in the morning sunshine--"I'd go round +pretty soon." He looked at his watch ostentatiously. "By Jove, it's +after ten--I must get on. Then you'll go round to Cherry Orchard this +morning?" + +"Yes." Anstice accepted the inevitable. "I'll go round almost +immediately. Thanks very much for coming, Willows. I ... I'm grateful to +you." + +"Oh, that's all right!" Dr. Willows, relieved by the change in Anstice's +manner, waved his hand airily and returned to his car; and as soon as he +was out of sight Anstice entered his own motor and turned in the +direction of Cherry Orchard. + +After all, he said to himself as the car glided swiftly over the hard +white road, there was no reason why Mrs. Carstairs should find anything +suspicious in his inability to visit Cherry Orchard on the previous +evening. Doctors were only human after all--prone to the same ills to +which other men are subject; and although the exigencies of one of the +most exacting professions in the world would seem to inspire a +corresponding endurance in its members, there are moments in which even +the physician must pause in his ministrations to the world, in order, as +it were, to tune up his own bodily frame to meet the demands upon it. + +Of course it was possible that Cheniston had divulged to his sister the +true reason of Anstice's non-arrival; but Anstice did not think it +likely; for although there was, and always must be, a strong antagonism +between the two men, Cheniston was an honourable man; and the secret +upon which he had stumbled was one which a man of honour would +instinctively keep to himself. + +That his secret was safe with Iris, Anstice knew beyond any question; +and as his car swept up the drive to the jasmine-covered door of Cherry +Orchard he told himself that it was only his conscience which made him +feel as though his absence on the previous evening must have looked odd, +unusual, even--he could not help the word--suspicious. + +The door was opened to him by Hagyard, and there was no doubting the +sincerity of his welcome. + +"Good morning, sir. I was looking out for you.... Miss Cherry's +awakened, they say, and is in a sad state." + +His unusual loquacity was a proof of his mental disturbance, and Anstice +spoke sharply. + +"Where is she? Shall I go upstairs?" + +"If you please, sir. Here is Tochatti come for you, sir." And he stood +aside to allow the woman to approach. + +"Will you come this way, signor?" Her foreign accent was more marked +than usual; and looking at her worn and sallow countenance Anstice +guessed she had not slept. + +He followed her without asking any questions, and in another moment was +in Cherry's bedroom, the little white and pink room whose wall papers +and chintzes were stamped with the life-like bunches of cherries on +which he had once remarked admiringly, to the little owner's +gratification. + +In the small white bed lay Cherry, her head swathed in bandages, one +little arm bandaged likewise; and beside her knelt Chloe Carstairs, her +face like marble, her silky black hair dishevelled on her brow, as +though she, too, had passed a sleepless night. Cherry's brown eyes were +widely opened with an expression of half-wondering pain in their usually +limpid depths, and from time to time she uttered little moans which +sounded doubly piteous coming from so self-controlled a child as she. + +"Dr. Anstice--at last!" Chloe rose swiftly from her knees and came to +meet him with both hands outstretched. "I thought you were never +coming--that Dr. Willows had forgotten to tell you----" + +"I'm sorry, Mrs. Carstairs." He knew at once, with a relief which would +not be repressed, that Cheniston had kept his miserable secret. "I only +saw Dr. Willows half an hour ago, and came at once. How is Cherry this +morning--did she have any sleep?" + +"Yes, thank God." Listening to her low voice, Anstice wondered why he +had ever thought her lacking in affection for her child. "Dr. Willows +was most kind--he stayed half the night with us and Cherry slept for +some hours after he left. But now she is awake, as you see, and I'm +afraid she is suffering horribly." + +"Let me see what I can do for her, will you?" + +He approached the bed and sat down quietly by it, while Cherry ceased +for a second to moan, and her brown eyes besought him, more eloquently +than speech, to give her relief from this quite unusual state of +affairs. At first he was not certain that the child recognized him; but +presently her uninjured hand came gropingly towards him; and as he took +the tiny fingers in his own Anstice felt a sudden revival of the +energies which had seemed so dead, so burnt-out within him on this +beautiful September morning. + +"Well, Cherry, this is bad luck, isn't it?" He spoke very gently, +studying her little face the while. "But don't lose heart--this pain +won't last long, it will soon run away. Is it _very_ bad?" + +"It's _rather_ bad, thank you, my dear." Even in the midst of her +tribulation Cherry strove heroically for her own gracious tone, and the +familiar term of endearment sounded strangely pathetic to-day. "But +you'll send it quite 'way, won't you?" + +"Yes. I send away all pains," returned Anstice, lying nobly. "But first +of all you must let me see just what sort of pain this one is, and then +I shall know how to get rid of it. You don't mind me touching you, do +you?" + +"N-not much, my dear." Cherry's lips quivered, and Chloe Carstairs +turned away as though unable to bear the sight of her little daughter's +suffering any longer. + +Quickly and tenderly Anstice made his examination without disturbing +more of the dressings than was absolutely necessary; and by dint of +questioning Mrs. Carstairs found that the child's brow had been badly +scorched where her brown curls had caught fire, and that one little arm +had suffered a grievous burn. These were the only outward signs of the +accident, but the child had undergone a severe shock; and Anstice felt a +sudden misgiving as he looked at the pinched little face, and noted the +renewal of the pitiful moans which even Cherry's fortitude could not +altogether repress. + +The woman Tochatti had hovered in the background while he bent over the +bed; and now, at a sign from him, she came forward silently. + +"Just look after the child a moment or two, will you?" he said. "Mrs. +Carstairs, may I have a word with you? Oh, don't be alarmed--I only want +to hear a little more about the affair." + +Tochatti shot a quick look at him from her beady black eyes; and Anstice +was momentarily puzzled by her curious expression. She looked almost as +though she resented his presence--and yet she should have welcomed him, +seeing that he was there to do his best for the child she adored. But as +she moved to the side of the bed, and took Cherry's unhurt hand in her +own brown fingers with a touch of almost maternal tenderness, he told +himself impatiently that he was fanciful; and turned to Mrs. Carstairs +with a resolute movement. + +"Will you come into my room, Dr. Anstice?" Chloe's spacious bedroom led +out of her little daughter's pink and white nest; and as Anstice +followed her she pulled the door to with a nervous action curiously +unlike herself. + +"Dr. Anstice, will she die?" Her lips were ashy, and in her white face +only the sapphire eyes seemed alive. "If she dies, I will never forgive +Tochatti--never!" + +"Tochatti?" Anstice was surprised. "Was she to blame for this?" + +"Not altogether." Chloe could be just, it seemed, even in the midst of +her sorrow. "I will tell you what happened. As perhaps you know, Cherry +was to have been one of Iris Wayne's bridesmaids, and at her own request +Tochatti had made her dress, a flimsy little thing all muslin and lace. +She had spent days over it--she embroiders wonderfully, and when it was +done it was perfectly exquisite. She finished it last evening, and +Cherry insisted on a dress rehearsal. She was to pay me a surprise visit +in the drawing-room just before dinner, and it seems that when she was +quite ready Tochatti slipped downstairs to find Hagyard and admit him to +a private view, leaving Cherry alone in the room--against all +rules--with two candles burning on the dressing-table." + +She paused. + +"I think I understand," said Anstice quietly. "Cherry took up a candle +to get a better view of her pretty frock, and----" + +"Not exactly," Chloe interrupted him. "She leaned forward, it seems, in +order to look at herself more closely in the glass--you know children +are fond of seeing themselves in pretty clothes--and, as you might +imagine, she leaned too close to the candle and her sleeve caught fire." + +"She cried out?" + +"Yes--luckily we all heard her." Through all her marble pallor Chloe +flushed at the remembrance of that poignant moment. "We rushed in and +found her shrieking, and Tochatti beat out the flames with her hands." + +"With her hands? Is she burnt, too, then?" + +"Yes--I believe so." Chloe's tone expressed no pity. "She tied up her +hand--the left one--herself, and says it is nothing much." + +"I see." Privately Anstice determined to investigate the woman's hurt +before he left the house. "Well--and what then?" + +"When we got the flames under we found that Cherry had fainted, and we +telephoned at once for you." She stopped short, taken aback by the +strange expression on his face. + +"Yes--and I wish to God I'd heard your call!" Anstice bit his lip +savagely; and Chloe, uncomprehending but compassionate, hastened on with +her story. + +"You couldn't help being ill! Iris told me how your maids were all in +the Park watching the fireworks--and then when my brother and Iris came +down you were too ill to come. Are you better now?" + +"So they went for Willows and brought him back with them?" He +disregarded her question--possibly did not hear it. + +"Yes, and as I have told you he was most kind. But of course Cherry did +not know him, and she kept on crying for you----" + +Chloe, who had intended the last words kindly, thinking to please him by +this proof of the child's affection for him, was aghast at the result of +her speech. + +"Mrs. Carstairs, for God's sake don't tell me that!" Anstice's voice +almost frightened her, so bitter, so full of remorse was it. "It only +wanted _that_ to make the horror complete--the knowledge that I failed a +little child in her need!" + +"The horror?" She stared at him. "I don't understand." + +"No, and there's no reason why you should." With a great effort he +resumed his ordinary tone. "Mrs. Carstairs, forgive me. I ... as you +know--I was--ill--last night, and I'm not quite myself this morning. +But"--he turned the subject resolutely--"what I want to say is this. +Cherry will need very careful nursing for some days, and I think it will +be well for me to send you a nurse." + +Chloe received the suggestion rather dubiously. + +"Do you think it is really necessary?" she said at length. "I'm as +strong as a horse, and as for Tochatti, I'm afraid she wouldn't like to +feel herself superseded. She is devoted to Cherry, you know, and she is +a very jealous woman." + +"Yes," he said, "but even although you and Tochatti are ready to give +yourselves up to the child, in a case of this sort skill is wanted as +well as affection." He smiled to soften the harshness of his words, and +Chloe inconsequently thought that he looked very weary this morning. + +"Of course, and if we don't prove competent you are at liberty to send +us a nurse. But"--she spoke rather wistfully--"mayn't we try, Tochatti +and I? I would a thousand times sooner nurse Cherry myself than let a +stranger be with her." + +Touched by something in her voice, remembering also the peculiar +position in which this woman stood--a wife without a husband, with no +one in the world, apparently, to care for her save her child--Anstice +yielded the point for the moment. + +"Very well, then. We will try this arrangement first, and if Cherry goes +on well there will be no need to call in other help. Now I should like +to see Tochatti, and give you both instructions." + +Without a word Chloe led him back to the smaller bedroom where Cherry +lay uneasily dozing; and Anstice beckoned to Tochatti to approach the +window. + +She came forward rather sullenly; and Anstice, irritated by her manner, +spoke in rather a peremptory tone. + +"Let me see your hands, please. I understand you were burnt last night." + +Unwillingly the woman held out her left hand, which was wrapped round +with a roughly constructed bandage; and as Anstice took it and began to +unwind the folds he heard her draw in her breath with an odd little +hiss. + +"Did I hurt you?" he asked, surprised, and the woman answered stolidly. + +"No, thank you, sir. You did not hurt me at all." + +Her manner struck him as peculiar; it almost seemed as though she +resented his efforts on her behalf; and as he unwrapped the last of the +bandage Anstice told himself she was by no means an attractive patient. + +But when he saw her hand he forgave her all her peculiarities; for she +must have suffered untold pain during the hours which had elapsed since +the accident. + +"I say--why didn't you show your hand to the doctor last night?" He +spoke impetuously, really shocked to see the extent of her burns. "You +have given yourself a lot of unnecessary pain, and it will take much +longer to heal. You must let me dress the place at once." + +Assisted by Chloe, who fetched and carried for him deftly, he dressed +and bound up the burnt hand; and though the woman never flinched, there +was a look in her eyes which showed him she was enduring great pain. + +"There." He finished his work and looked at her closely. "That will feel +easier soon. But you know you should lie down and try to sleep for an +hour or two--and that hand will be quite useless for some days. Really, +Mrs. Carstairs"--he turned to Chloe--"I think you will have to let me +send for a nurse, after all. You can't do everything, and Tochatti is +more or less disabled----" + +He was surprised by the effect of his words. Tochatti turned to her +mistress eagerly, and began pouring out a stream of Italian which was +quite incomprehensible to Anstice, who was no better at modern languages +than the average public school and University product. And Chloe replied +in the same tongue, though without the wealth of gesture employed by the +other woman; while Anstice waited, silently, until the colloquy was +concluded. + +Finally Chloe turned, apologetically, to him and explained the subject +of the woman's entreaties. + +"Tochatti is so terribly upset at the idea of a strange woman coming to +nurse Cherry that I have promised to try to persuade you to reverse your +verdict," she said. "Do you mind? Of course if we can't manage you must +do as you think fit--but----" + +"We will try, by all means." In spite of himself, he was touched by the +woman's fierce devotion to her charge. "And now I'll tell you exactly +what I want you to do until I come again this afternoon." + +He proceeded to give them full instructions how to look after the child, +and when he had assured himself that they understood exactly what was to +be done, he took his leave, promising to call again in the course of a +few hours. + +As he drove away he mused for a moment on the Italian woman's peculiar +manner towards him. + +"Seems as if she hated me to speak to her ... she's never been like that +before--indeed, when Cherry broke her arm she used to welcome me quite +demonstratively." He smiled, then grew grave again. "Of course the woman +was in pain to-day--she was a queer colour, too--looked downright ill. I +expect the affair has been a shock to her as well as to the child." + +And with that conclusion he dismissed Tochatti from his mind for the +time being, his thoughts reverting to the one subject which filled his +mental horizon to-day. + + * * * * * + +All through the bright September afternoon he sat alone in his +rarely-used drawing-room. The consulting-room was haunted ground to him +since the episode of the previous evening, and he could not bear to go +out into the village lest he might perhaps behold some signs of the +great event which was agitating peaceful Littlefield to-day. + +But his imagination, unmercifully awakened from the stupor which had +temporarily lulled it to repose, showed him many visions on that golden +September afternoon. + +He saw the old grey church decked with flowers, saw the sunlight +filtering through the famous Burne-Jones window in a splash of gorgeous +blue and crimson, staining the white petals of the big lilies in the +chancel ... he heard the peals of the organ as the choristers broke out +into the hymn which heralded the bride ... saw the bride herself, a +little pale, a little serious, in her white robes, in her eyes the grave +and tender look whose possibility he had long ago divined.... + +Oh, he was a fool to let his imagination torment him so ... and he +sprang to his feet, determined to put an end to these maddening visions +which only unfitted him for the stern and hopeless battle which was all +that he could look forward to henceforth.... + +As he moved impatiently towards the door a sudden peal of bells rang out +gaily, exultantly on the soft and balmy air; and his face turned grey as +he realized that this was the signal which betokened that Iris was now +the wife of Bruce Cheniston, his to have and to hold, irrevocably his +until death should intervene to end their dual existence.... + + * * * * * + +With a muttered oath he strode out of the house, and making his way +round to the garage ordered his car to be brought forth immediately. + +When it came he flung himself into the steering seat and drove away at +such a pace that Andrews, his outdoor man and general factotum, looked +after him anxiously. + +"Looks like getting his licence endorsed," he observed to the pretty +housemaid, Alice, who was watching her master's departure from a +convenient window. "Never saw him drive so reckless--he's generally what +you might call a very considerate driver." + +"Considerate? What of?" asked Alice ungrammatically. "The dogs and +chickens in the road, d'you mean?" + +"Dogs and chickens! Good Lord, no!" Andrews was a born mechanician, and +it was a constant source of regret to him that Anstice generally drove +the car himself. "They're nothing but a nuisance anyway. No, I meant he +considered the car--but he don't look much like it to-day." + +"Oh, the car!" Alice was openly scornful. "Well, from the pace he went +off just now, I should think he'll smash up your precious old car before +he goes far. And no loss either," said Alice, who was engaged to a +soldier in a cavalry regiment, and therefore disdained all purely +mechanical means of locomotion. + + * * * * * + +But once out on the road Anstice moderated his pace somewhat, since to +run over an unwary pedestrian would only add to the general hopelessness +of the situation; and he reached Cherry Orchard without any such mishap +as his servants had prophesied for him. + +Here he found things less satisfactory than he had hoped. Cherry was no +better; indeed, to his experienced eye, the child was worse, and +although Mrs. Carstairs showed no signs of fatigue, and was apparently +prepared to nurse her little daughter indefinitely, it was evident that +the woman Tochatti was worn out with pain, anxiety, and, possibly, +remorse. + +Although she pulled herself together sufficiently to answer Anstice's +questions intelligibly, it was plain to see that she was in reality half +dazed by the shock she had experienced and by want of sleep, and Anstice +realized that if Cherry were to be properly nursed some other help must +be obtained at once. + +"See here, Mrs. Carstairs." His face was grave as he examined the +child's condition. "I'm not going to beat about the bush--I'm going to +send you a nurse to help you with Cherry." + +"A nurse? But--can't Tochatti and I----?" + +"You're all right," he said shortly. "You look good for any amount of +nursing, though I can't imagine how you do it, seeing you had no sleep +last night. But Tochatti is no use at present." He judged it best to +speak frankly. "It is evident she is in pain with that hand of hers, and +she will be fit for nothing to-night, at any rate." + +Chloe did not contest the point further. + +"Very well, Dr. Anstice. You know best; and if you think it necessary, +will you find us someone at once?" + +"Yes. I think I know just the person for you." He turned to Tochatti, +who was standing by, her face full of smouldering resentment. "I'm sure +you want me to do the best thing for Miss Cherry, don't you?" + +She did not answer; and he repeated his question rather sharply. + +This time she answered him. + +"_Si, signor._" She spoke sulkily, and a flash of something like actual +hatred shot from her black eyes as he watched her; but he had no time to +spare for her vagaries, and turned back to Chloe Carstairs forthwith. + +"Then I will try to find Nurse Trevor and bring her along. She will sit +up to-night, and then you can both get some rest." He spoke kindly, +including Tochatti in his smile; but the woman merely glowered, and he +felt a spasm of sudden annoyance at her ungracious behaviour. + + * * * * * + +Luckily Nurse Trevor was at hand and disengaged; and Anstice had the +satisfaction of finding her safely installed and apparently completely +at home in her new surroundings when he paid his last visit to Cherry +Orchard late that night. + +She was a pretty girl of twenty-seven, who had had a good deal of +experience in nursing children, and although poor little Cherry was by +this time too ill to pay much attention to any of the people around her, +it really seemed as though Margaret Trevor's soft voice, with its +cooing, dove-like notes, had a soothing influence on the suffering +child. + +Anstice stayed some time in Cherry's room, doing all his skill could +suggest for the alleviation of his little patient's pain, and when at +length he took his departure Chloe herself came downstairs with him. + +"What a lovely night!" She had opened the big hall door quietly while he +sought his hat. "The moon must be nearly at the full, I think." + +Together they stood on the steps looking out over the dew-drenched +garden. The white stars of the jasmine which clustered thickly round the +house sent out a delicious fragrance, and there were a dozen other +scents on the soft and balmy air, as though the sleeping stocks and +carnations and mignonette breathed sweetly in their sleep. + +A big white owl flow, hooting, across the path, and Chloe shivered. + +"I hate owls--I always think them unlucky, harbingers of evil," she +said, and her face, as she spoke, was quite pale. + +In an ordinary way Anstice would have deemed it his duty to scoff at +such superstition; but to-night, his nerves unstrung, by the happenings +of the last few days, his bodily vigour at a low ebb, his mind a chaos +of miserable, hopeless memories and fears, Chloe's words woke a quite +unexpected response in his soul. + +"Don't say that, Mrs. Carstairs!" He spoke sharply. "Don't let us talk +of bad luck--to-night of all nights!" + +In the moonlight her narrow blue eyes studied his face with sudden +keenness, and she felt an unusual desire to bring comfort to the soul +which she felt with instinctive certainty stood in need of some help. + +As a rule Chloe Carstairs, like Anstice himself, was too much +preoccupied with the thought of her own private grudge against fate to +have any sympathy to spare for others who might have known that Deity's +frown; but to-night, owing possibly to some softening of her mental +fibres induced by the sight of her child's suffering, she felt oddly +pitiful towards this man, and her inward emotion found vent in words +which surprised her as much as they startled the man to whom they were +addressed. + +"Why to-night, Dr. Anstice? Has this day been to you what it has been to +me--a day of the bitterest suffering I have ever known?" + +The tone of her deep voice, so oddly gentle, the compassionate +expression in her usually cold blue eyes, were too much for Anstice, +whose endurance was nearly at the breaking point; and he turned to her +with a look in his face which dismayed her, so tragic was it. + +"Mrs. Carstairs, this day I have been in--_hell_!" The word sounded +cruelly out of place in the quiet moonlit night. "Once before I fancied +I had reached the point at which a man may turn his back on life and its +horrors without thinking himself a pitiful coward. I suffered then--my +God, how I suffered!--but the torture I have endured to-day makes me +feel as though I have never known what suffering is until now." + +Her answer came quickly. + +"But you know now that no man can turn his back on life and yet escape +the allegation of cowardice!" It was an assertion rather than a +question. "Dr. Anstice, I don't ask to know what your suffering has +been--I don't want you to tell me--but one thing I do know, that you, +and men like you, are not the ones who give up the battle when the fight +is fiercest." + +He delayed his answer so long that Chloe had time to feel curiously +frightened by his silence. And when his reply came it was hardly +reassuring. + +"I thought you were too wise a woman to indulge in generalities, Mrs. +Carstairs." His tired voice robbed the words of offence. "And don't you +know that it is never safe to prophesy what a man will do in a battle? +The bravest may turn coward beneath a hail of fire--the man who is +afraid may perform some deed which will entitle him--and rightly--to the +coveted Victoria Cross." + +"Yes." She spoke steadily, her eyes on his face. "But that's the +battlefield of the world, Dr. Anstice, the material, earthly +battlefield. It's the battlefield of the soul I was thinking of just +now; and if I may use a quotation which has been battered out of nearly +all its original fine shape by careless usage, to me the truly brave man +is he who remains to the end the--'captain of his soul!'" + +Her voice sank on the last words; but Anstice had caught her meaning, +and he turned to her with a new light in his tired eyes. + +"Mrs. Carstairs, thank you for what you've just said. Captain of his +soul--yes, I've heard it often enough, but never stopped to ponder its +meaning. And as the captain mustn't lose his ship if mortal man can +prevent the loss, so a man must bring the ship of his soul safely into +port. Is that what you meant just now?" + +She smiled faintly in the moonlight, and for once there was no mockery +in her smile. + +"We have wandered from our original metaphor of a battlefield," she said +gently, "but I like your simile of a ship better. Yes, I suppose that is +what I was trying to convey--in a confused fashion, I'm afraid. We each +have our voyage to complete, our ship to bring into harbour; and even +though sometimes it seems about to founder"--he knew she alluded to the +catastrophe of her own life--"we must not let it sink if we can keep it +afloat." + +For a moment there was silence between them; and again they heard the +melancholy hoot of the owl, flying homewards now. + +Then Anstice said slowly: + +"You are right, of course. But"--at last his pent-up bitterness burst +its bounds and overflowed in quick, vehement speech--"it's easy enough +for a man to handle his ship carefully when he has some precious thing +on board--or even when he knows some welcoming voice will greet him as +he enters--at last--into his haven. But the man whose ship is empty, who +has no right to expect even one greeting word--is there no excuse for +him if he navigate the seas carelessly?" + +"No." In the moonlight she faced him, and her eyes looked oddly +luminous. "For a derelict's the greatest danger a boat can encounter on +the high seas ... all our boats cross and recross the paths of others, +you know, and no man has the right to place another's ship in peril by +his own--carelessness." + +"By God, you're right," he said vehemently; and she did not resent his +hasty speech. "Mrs. Carstairs, you've done more for me to-night than you +know--and if I can repay you I will, though it cost me all I have in the +world." + +"You can repay me very easily," she said, holding out her hand, all the +motherhood in her coming to the surface. "Save Cherry--she is all _I_ +have--now--in the world; and her little barque, at least, was meant to +dance over summer seas." + +"God helping me, I will save her," he said, taking her hand in a quick, +earnest clasp; and then he entered his waiting car and drove away +without another word, a new courage in his heart. + + * * * * * + +And as Chloe gently closed the heavy door on the peaceful, fragrant +world without and returned to the little room where Cherry lay in an +uneasy slumber, she knew that a faint suspicion which had crossed her +mind earlier in the summer had been verified to-night. + +"He too loved Iris," she said to herself, with a rather sad little +smile. "And I thought--once--that she was ready to love him in return. +But, I suppose she preferred Bruce. Only"--Chloe had no illusions on the +subject of her brother--"I believe Dr. Anstice would have made her a +happier woman than Bruce will ever be able to do. And if he"--she did +not refer to Cheniston now--"has lost his chance of happiness to-day, no +wonder he feels that he has been in hell. For there is no hell so +terrible as the one in which a soul who loves wanders alone, without its +beloved," said the woman whose husband had left her because of a cruel +doubt. "From the bottom of my heart I pity that man to-night!" + +And then, re-entering Cherry's little room, pathetic now in its very +brightness of colouring, Chloe forgot all else in the world save the +child who slept, in the narrow bed, watched by Margaret Trevor's soft, +brooding eyes. + + + + +BOOK II + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +On a cold and frosty morning in November Anstice was sitting over his +solitary breakfast when the telephone-bell rang; and he left his coffee +to grow cold while he answered the summons. + +It was Sir Richard who was speaking; and even over the wire Anstice +thought he detected an unusual note in the older man's voice. + +"That you, Anstice? Are you busy, or can you spare me a few minutes this +morning?" + +"I'll come to Greengates, of course, if you want me, Sir Richard," said +Anstice immediately. "But I hope you are not ill--nor Lady Laura?" + +"No, my sister's all right--so am I." There was a pause. "But I--well, +I'm rather worried, and I want to see you." + +"Very well, sir. I'll be round at eleven. Will that suit you?" + +"Yes, eleven will do well. _Au revoir_ till then," and Sir Richard rang +off with a promptitude which forbade further discussion for the moment. + +As he went back to his cooling coffee Anstice wondered vaguely what Sir +Richard could have to say; but since speculation was mere idle waste of +time he dismissed the matter from his mind and finished his breakfast in +haste. + +It was nearly noon when he drove his car up to the great hall door of +Greengates; but the words of apology for his tardy arrival died on his +lips when he caught sight of Sir Richard's face. + +"I say, I'm afraid you're ill, after all!" Anstice was genuinely +concerned; and Sir Richard's strained features relaxed into a smile. + +"No, I'm perfectly well. Only, as I told you, I have been upset this +morning; and--well, I'll explain and you will see there _is_ something +to worry about." + +Without more ado he walked over to his substantial roll-top desk, and +unlocking a drawer took from thence an envelope which he handled +gingerly as though it were unpleasing to him. + +From the envelope he drew a sheet of thin paper; and Anstice, watching +him closely, felt still more mystified by his distasteful expression. + +For a moment Sir Richard hesitated, still holding the sheet by the tips +of his fingers. Then, as though he had taken a sudden resolve, he turned +to Anstice abruptly. + +"Look here, Anstice, this abominable thing reached me this morning. Now +of course I don't need you to tell me that the proper place for it is +the fire, and if it had not been for one circumstance connected with it, +it would have been in the flames by now. But as things are"--he broke +off suddenly and held the thin sheet out to the other man--"well, read +it, and then tell me what you think is the best course to pursue." + +With a premonition of evil for which he could not account, Anstice took +the paper from Sir Richard and, turning to the window so that the pale +autumn sunlight might fall upon the letter, he read the few lines +scrawled in the middle of the sheet. + + "Dr. Anstice is a murderer he killed a woman in India by shooting + her because she was in the way when he wanted to escape." + +That was all. There was no heading, no signature, not even the cynical +assurance of well-wishing which is the hall-mark, so to speak, of the +typical anonymous letter; and as Anstice read the ill-written words his +first sensation was of wonder as to who his secret enemy might be. + +When he had finished he turned the sheet over in his hands to see if +perchance the writer might have more to say; but the other side of the +paper was blank; and he looked at Sir Richard with an expression of +utter bewilderment. + +"Well?" Sir Richard interrogated him with interest. "Pretty sort of +document, eh? I suppose the writing conveys nothing to your mind?" + +"Nothing at all." Holding the paper to the light, Anstice examined the +ill-formed characters more closely. "It does not resemble any +handwriting I know. But I suppose"--he smiled rather grimly--"the test +of a successful anonymous correspondent is to disguise his writing +efficiently." + +"Yes." Sir Richard stretched out his hand for the paper and Anstice +yielded it to him without regret. "Well, it is pretty evident that +someone has--to put it vulgarly--got his knife into you. The question +is, who can it be?" + +"Well, it's a question I'm not clever enough to answer," returned +Anstice, with assumed lightness. "All men have enemies, I suppose, and I +won't swear I've never made any in my life. But I can't at the moment +recall one who would stoop to fight with such dirty weapons as these." + +"Dirty--that's just the word for it," said Sir Richard disgustedly. "But +you know, Anstice, this sort of thing can't be allowed to go on. For +your own sake, and for the sake of others"--he paused, then repeated +himself deliberately--"for the sake of others it must be stopped--at +once." + +"I quite agree with you that it must be stopped," said Anstice slowly, +"though I hardly see how the matter affects anyone except myself. Of +course"--he looked Sir Richard squarely in the face as he spoke--"it is +no use denying there is a certain amount of truth in this accusation +against me. I wonder if you have the patience to listen to a story--the +story of a great mistake made, unfortunately, by me some years ago." + +For a moment Sir Richard seemed about to speak; yet no word crossed his +lips. Then he said, with a very kindly inflection in his voice: + +"Don't trouble to tell me the story, Anstice. I think I know it +already." + +"You do?" Anstice stared at him. "But who told it to you? Was +it--Cheniston?" + +"No, no." Sir Richard spoke hurriedly. "Cheniston never mentioned the +affair to me. As a matter of fact I heard it, at the time, from his +uncle, a contemporary of mine; but I confess I did not, at first, +associate you with the man who was brave enough--and unfortunate +enough--to carry out that poor girl's wish----" + +"On my honour, sir, I could not have done anything else." Anstice's +voice was full of pain, and Sir Richard put his hand kindly on the +younger man's shoulder. + +"Of course you couldn't--no one but a fool could imagine that for a +moment! But as I say, at first I did not connect your name with that of +the hero of the story. It was only on seeing you and Cheniston together +on one or two occasions that I guessed you might, after all, be the +man." + +"Yes--to my everlasting remorse I am the man," said Anstice rather +bitterly. "But since you know the facts of the case, and yet are good +enough to welcome me to your house, I gather this wretched letter +carried no weight with you, Sir Richard. And if that is so, why not tear +it up, and make an end of the thing?" + +"Wait a moment, Anstice. As you say, I know the facts of the case and +even if I were ignorant of them this contemptible _canard_"--he flicked +the paper angrily--"wouldn't rouse my curiosity to the extent of setting +me searching for some crime in your past." He smiled, but the smile cost +him an effort. "But you see the mischief may not rest here. It is quite +possible other people may have been--victimized--by this morning's +post." + +"By Jove, I hadn't thought of that." Anstice stood biting his lip and +staring thoughtfully ahead of him; and the old man watched the thin, +fine-drawn face with a regard which was full of anxiety. "Naturally a +story of this sort is not calculated to enhance one's popularity; and +one's patients might quite well look askance at a doctor who was reputed +to be a murderer!" + +He paused; then threw back his head impetuously. + +"After all, if they are weak-minded enough to believe an anonymous +statement, they aren't worth bothering with. As it is, I've been +thinking for some time that I've had enough of general practice. I never +intended to go in for it, you know; and if I had a quiet year or two for +research----" + +He broke off suddenly, for Sir Richard had raised his hand almost +entreatingly. + +"Anstice, don't speak of giving up your practice here--not at this +juncture, anyway. You see this vile story may spread; and to quit +Littlefield now would look almost like"--he hesitated--"like cowardice." + +For a second Anstice stared at him, a flash of anger on his brow. Then, +as though dismayed by the effect of his words, Sir Richard spoke again. + +"Besides, there is another aspect of the matter which has evidently not +yet struck you. It is very natural for you to look on this letter as a +loathsome, but quite unimportant, act of spite, on the part of some +secret enemy; and I understand your desire to assume that it does not +matter in the least. But"--his eyes sought the younger man's face +anxiously--"there is another person in this neighbourhood who might be +affected by a fresh flood of anonymous communications. You know to whom +I refer?" + +Suddenly Anstice saw, with a most unwelcome clarity of vision, what Sir +Richard intended to convey; and his eyes grew hard as he replied: + +"You mean----" + +"I mean that once again that unfortunate girl at Cherry Orchard might be +suspected of having recourse to this most degrading, most underhand form +of crime. And for her sake the matter must not be allowed to rest here." + +"Sir Richard"--Anstice came a step nearer his host, and Sir Richard +heard, with satisfaction, the ring of steel in his voice--"you are +right. I did not see, at first, how peculiarly fatal this coincidence +might be. I mean that should these letters, as you suggest, be +circulated through the district, the old scandal would be revived. And +though no sane person could ever believe Mrs. Carstairs guilty of such a +vile action, I suppose there _are_ a good many lunatics about who would +put these atrocious things down to her." + +"Well, you know what people are," said Sir Richard deprecatingly, "and +naturally a woman who has once been convicted, by whatever unfair means, +of the same offence, is liable to be looked on with suspicion. And I +shouldn't like"--for a second Sir Richard, who loved Chloe Carstairs as +though she had been his daughter, faltered, and cleared his throat +rather huskily--"I shouldn't like that poor, pretty creature over yonder +to suffer any further indignity." + +"Of course not!" Anstice's eyes flashed, and he pulled himself together +resolutely. "And if I can help it, she shan't suffer! Just look here, +Sir Richard, the first thing to do is to find out if anyone else has +been, as you say, victimized." + +"Yes." Sir Richard spoke rather dubiously. "And it will be rather hard +to find out that, I fear. You see, naturally a decent man wouldn't +spread the fact abroad; and we can hardly go about making open +inquiries." + +"I suppose not." For a second Anstice was nonplussed, then his face +cleared. "But after all, if anyone--one of my patients, for instance, +has received one of these charming letters, don't you think I shall find +it out? You see, although the average 'decent man,' as you call him, +holds firmly to the theory that the place for an anonymous communication +is the fire, I'm afraid nine out of ten people can't help wondering, +even while they burn it, how much truth there was in the accusation!" + +"Just so--but even then----" + +"Well, something of that rather uncomfortable wonder, not to say +suspicion, is pretty sure to show itself in the manner of the man who's +read the letter. Seriously, Sir Richard, if anyone beside yourself has +received a testimonial to my character" He spoke ironically now--"I'll +guarantee to discover the fact in the course of ten minutes' +conversation with him!" + +"You may be right, Anstice." Sir Richard did not speak with much +conviction. "But for all our sakes I wish we could make certain of the +facts either way. You see, should this lie be circulated through the +district by means of letters or postcards it is inevitable that the old +scandal should be raked up. And in that case Mrs. Carstairs _will_ +suffer." + +A thought struck Anstice suddenly and he gave it utterance forthwith. + +"Sir Richard, I suppose you don't remember whether the handwriting in +any of those other letters resembled this in any way? It is not likely, +so long afterwards, but still----" + +Sir Richard uttered an impatient exclamation. + +"By Gad, what an old fool I am! I've got one of the original letters +locked away in that desk now--one of the half-dozen or so which reached +me when the scandal was at its height. I don't know why I kept it--God +knows I hated the sight of it--but somehow I could never bring myself to +destroy the thing, hoping against hope that it might some day afford a +clue to the identity of the writer." + +He busied himself with a bunch of keys for a moment, and finally +selected one, with which he unlocked a small drawer at the back of his +desk. At first his eagerness prevented him finding what he sought, but +presently he brought to light another and rather worn sheet of paper, +which he handed to Anstice triumphantly. + +"Yes, read it, read it!" He had marked Anstice's hesitation. "The +affair's been public property too long for any secrecy now. And that, +after all, was a fairly innocuous screed." + +Thus encouraged, Anstice ran his eye over the sheet of paper, and there +read a veiled, but none the less malignant, attack on the character of +Mrs. Ogden, the wife of the man who had held the living of Littlefield +at the time the letter was written. In his anxiety to compare the +handwriting of the two epistles Anstice barely stopped to take in the +meaning of what he read; and when, in answer to his request, Sir Richard +handed him the second letter he carried them both eagerly to the window +and examined them carefully in the stronger light. + +"Well?" Sir Richard's tone was full of sympathetic interest. + +"One moment--I've got a pocket magnifying glass somewhere." He put the +letters down and plunged his hand into various pockets in eager search. +"Ah--here it is--and we'll jolly soon see if the game hand has been at +work in both." + +Watching him as he pored over the two papers Sir Richard told himself +that with this man for her champion Chloe Carstairs need not fear +further condemnation at the hands of a censorious or jealous world. He +knew instinctively that what made Anstice so suddenly keen on +discovering the authorship of the letters was not a selfish desire to +rid himself of the annoyance such letters might bring upon him, but +rather a determination to prove Chloe Carstairs innocent in the first +instance by bringing home the guilt for both letters--or series of +letters--to the right quarter. + +Sir Richard made no mistake in his estimation of Anstice's chivalrous +desire to right the wrong which had been done to Mrs. Carstairs. He knew +quite well that to Anstice the righting of the wrong appeared in the +light of a duty to the woman whom he called his friend; and that no +warmer emotion animated him in regard to Chloe Carstairs than that same +chivalry. + +For Iris' father had not been blind to the significance of the events of +the summer. Although Anstice had never betrayed his secret by word or +look the other man had all along had a suspicion that Cheniston was not +alone in his love for his pretty daughter; and although naturally he was +ignorant of the compact entered into by the two younger men he had +sometimes wondered, with just the least possible tinge of regret, why +Anstice had apparently been content to leave the field to his rival. + +Although he admitted to himself that he had absolutely no grounds for +believing that Anstice had been in love with Iris he could never rid +himself of the notion; and in any case he felt quite certain that +Anstice had no warmer feeling for Mrs. Carstairs than a very genuine and +chivalrous friendliness. + +Watching the younger man as he stood with bent head examining the papers +Sir Richard was struck by the change in Anstice's face during the last +few months. Always thin, it was now positively haggard, and the black +hair which clustered round his brow was touched, here and there, with +grey. Yet the effect was not one of age. He could hardly be said to look +older than his years; but there was a look of something more painful +than a premature ageing would have been--a look of suffering, of bitter +experience impatiently borne, of a mental conflict which had drawn lines +round the fine lips, and given an air of hopeless weariness to the +deep-set eyes. + +And Sir Richard, watching, wondered again--this time uneasily--whether +the marriage of his beloved little daughter to Bruce Cheniston had +proved yet another trouble for this man's already burdened spirit to +bear. + +Sir Richard had, of course, no idea of the remorse with which Anstice +remembered that terrible scene on the eve of Iris' wedding day, when +Cheniston and the girl he was to marry on the morrow had come to him for +help; and had found him in no fit state to render aid to any human +being. + +That fact alone, the fact that, as he had said bitterly to Chloe +Carstairs, he had failed a child in her need, would have been sufficient +to fill Anstice with a very real and deep regret for his own most +lamentable failure; but added to that was the other and still more +deplorable fact that it had been Iris Wayne who had seen his condition; +and although she had uttered no word of reproach he told himself +hopelessly that now he must have fallen very low in her estimation. And +the idea that Iris must scorn him in her heart, however charitably she +might strive to think of him, was a terrible one to the man who had +fought so heroically for her sake to overcome his weakness, and had +failed only when it had seemed to him that his failure--now--could mean +nothing to the girl he loved. + + * * * * * + +As Sir Richard watched him, rather uneasily, Anstice turned to him +suddenly. + +"I say, Sir Richard, I'm pretty sure these letters are both written by +one hand! Look, these two 'a's are identical, and the capital 'D' is +absolutely similar in both." + +Oddly thrilled, Sir Richard bent over the papers; and saw that Anstice +had spoken the obvious truth. + +"By Gad, Anstice, you're right!" For a moment he did not know whether to +be disturbed or relieved by the discovery. "It looks uncommonly as +though the same hand were at work again; and in that case----" + +"In that case the mischief-maker shall be brought to book." A new look +of resolution drove away the weary lines from the speaker's face. "I +hope with all my heart it _is_ the same person who's at the old +game--and I'll find out who it is if it costs me every penny I've got!" + +"Quite right, quite the right spirit," said Sir Richard, watching him +keenly the while. "It's damnably unfair that a story of that sort should +be circulated about you--and the blackguard who's responsible deserves a +heavy punishment for the lie." + +In an instant the vivacity died out of Anstice's face; and again its +hopeless expression struck Sir Richard with a sense of pain. + +"Of course the thing is not exactly a lie," he said. "I mean, I did act +too hastily, though God knows I did it for the best. But if the whole +story is to be raked up again--by Jove, I believe after all it would be +better to let sleeping dogs lie!" + +"You forget--this is not the first letter which has fallen like a +bombshell into Littlefield," Sir Richard reminded him quietly; and +Anstice flushed a dull red. + +"Of course not ... what a fool I am! Thinking of the past, of that +horrible morning, I forgot Mrs. Carstairs. But"--he squared his +shoulders aggressively--"I shall not forgot again. This thing is going +to be sifted now, and the mystery solved. May I take these letters with +me?" + +"Certainly." Sir Richard felt Anstice had the better right to the +documents. "You will take care of them, of course; and if you follow my +advice you will not show them to anyone--yet." + +"Quite so." Anstice put the two letters carefully away in his +pocket-book. "Now I must go, Sir Richard; but please believe I am +grateful for your kindness in this matter." + +He shook hands with Sir Richard, and hurried away to his waiting car; +and as he drove from the house his lips were firmly set together, and +the look in his eyes betokened no good to the wretched creature who had +penned this latest communication. + +And Sir Richard, watching him from a side window, felt a sharp pang of +regret that this man, whom he liked and trusted, had not managed, +apparently, to win his daughter's affection. + +"Damme if I wouldn't rather have had him for a son-in-law than the +other," he said to himself presently. "Cheniston's a decent fellow +enough, brainy and a thoroughly steady sort of chap, but there is +something about this man that I rather admire. It may be his pluck, or +his quiet tenacity of purpose--I'm hanged if I know what it is; but on +my soul I'm inclined to wish I'd been called upon to give my little girl +into his keeping. As for that affair in India, it's not every man who +would have had the pluck to shoot the girl, and precious few men would +have lived it down as he has done. I believe I'd have put a bullet +through my brain if it had been me," said Sir Richard honestly, "but I +can quite realize that it's a long sight finer to see the thing through. +And if there's to be fresh trouble over these confounded anonymous +scrawls, well, I'll stick to the fellow through thick and thin!" + +And with this meritorious resolve Sir Richard went back to his +comfortable fire and the paper which he had not, as yet, had the heart +to peruse. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +On the day following Sir Richard's interview with Anstice the latter +received an unexpected call from the Vicar of Littlefield parish. + +The two men were on fairly intimate terms. For the clergyman, as a +scholar and a gentleman, Anstice had a real respect, though the +religious side of Mr. Carey's office, as expressed in his spiritual +ministrations, could hardly be expected to appeal to the man who could +never rid himself of the feeling that God had deliberately failed him at +a critical moment. + +Mr. Carey, on his side, had a genuine liking for Anstice, whose skill he +admired with the impersonal admiration which a specialist in one +profession accords to an expert in another vocation. But mingled with +his admiration was an uneasy suspicion that all was not well with the +spiritual health of this most indifferent of his parishioners, and he +was grieved, with the charity of a large and generous nature, by the +gloom, the melancholy, which at times were written only too plainly on +the other's face. + +The two men were brought into contact now and again by the very nature +of their respective callings. Soul and body are after all so closely +related that the health of the one depends largely on that of the other; +and at times both priest and physician must take their share in the +gracious task of healing. And on the occasions when their work brought +them together the mutual liking and respect between the two was sensibly +strengthened. + +So that it did not cause Anstice more than a passing sensation of +surprise when on this cold and raw November evening the Reverend Fraser +Carey was announced as a visitor. + +"Mr. Carey here? Where have you taken him, Alice?" + +"Into the drawing-room, sir. The fire's not lighted, but I can put a +match to it in a moment." + +"No, don't do that." Anstice hated the little-used drawing-room. "Take +Mr. Carey into my room, and bring up some coffee directly, will you?" + +"Yes, sir." The maid, who in common with the rest of the household +regarded Anstice with an admiration not unmixed with awe, withdrew to +carry out her instructions; and hastily finishing an important letter, +Anstice went in search of his rare visitor. + +"Hallo, Carey--jolly good of you to look me up on a beastly night like +this." He poked the fire into a brighter blaze, and drew forward a +capacious leather chair. "Sit down and light up. We'll have some coffee +presently--I know you don't care for anything stronger." + +"Thanks, Anstice." Mr. Carey sank down into the big chair and held his +transparent-looking hands to the flames. "It is a bad night, as you say, +and this fire is uncommonly cosy." + +Fraser Carey was a man of middle age who, through constitutional +delicacy, looked older than his years. His features, well-cut in +themselves, were marred by the excessive thinness and pallor of his +face; and his eyes, beneath their heavy lids, told a story of unrestful +nights spent in wrestling with some mental or physical pain which +forbade the refreshment of sleep. He had never consulted Anstice +professionally, though he had called upon his services on behalf of a +little niece who sometimes visited him; and Anstice wondered now and +then what scruple it was which prevented his friend making use of such +skill as he might reasonably claim to possess. + +To-night Carey looked even more tired, more fragile than ever; and +Anstice refrained from speech until he had poured out two cups of +deliciously fragrant coffee and had seen that Carey's pipe was in full +blast. + +Then: "It is quite a time since you dropped in for a chat," he said +cheerfully. "Yet this isn't a specially busy season of the year for you +parsons, is it? _We_ are run off our legs with influenza and all the +rest of it, thanks to the weather, but you----" + +"We parsons are generally busy, you know," returned Carey with a smile. +"Human nature being what it is there is no close-time for sin--nor for +goodness either, God be thanked," he added hastily. + +"I suppose not." Having satisfactorily loaded his pipe Anstice lay back +and puffed luxuriously. "In any case I'm glad you've found time to drop +in. By the way, there is a woman down in Blue Row about whom I wanted to +see you. I think you know the family--the man is a blacksmith, Richards +by name." + +He outlined the needs of the case, and Carey took a few notes in the +little book he carried for the purpose. After that the conversation +ranged desultorily over various local matters mildly interesting to +both; and then there fell a sudden pause which Anstice at least felt to +be significant. + +It was broken, abruptly, by the clergyman, who sat upright in his chair, +and, laying his empty pipe down on the table, turned to face his host +more fully. + +"Anstice." His thin, rather musical voice held a new and arresting note. +"My visit to you to-night was not of, a purely social nature. I came +because--I may have been wrong--because I felt it to be both an +obligation and an act of friendship to come here to discuss with you a +peculiar situation which has arisen within the last day or two in +Littlefield." + +Instantly Anstice guessed what was to follow; and he knocked the ashes +out of his pipe with a rather impatient gesture which was not lost on +the other man. + +"If you will listen to me for one moment," said Carey hastily, "you may +then refuse to discuss the subject if you wish. But I think it will +really be better if you can bring yourself to listen to me first." + +Even Anstice's annoyance was not proof against the other man's +moderation; and he spoke with creditable mildness. + +"I think I know what you want to say, Carey. Is it--this interesting +subject--concerned with certain statements which are being made about +me--anonymously--in the parish?" + +Carey's face lost a little of its uneasiness. + +"Yes," he said, "since you appear to be already acquainted with the fact +there is no use in denying it. Indeed, I don't wish to do so, seeing +that is what I came to say to you." + +"You have received such a letter yourself?" + +"Yes. I received a letter this morning." + +"I see." For a moment Anstice sat in silence, his lips set firmly +together; and the other man, watching, was struck, as Sir Richard had +been on the previous day, by the look of suffering in his face. "Well, +Carey, is it asking you too much to let me know exactly what form the +accusation against me took? Or have you the letter with you?" + +"No. I burnt the letter immediately," Carey answered. "Naturally such +communications are best destroyed--and forgotten--at once. But"--he +hesitated--"the fact is I have since discovered that I am not the only +person to be addressed by the unknown correspondent." + +"Indeed?" Anstice's eyes flashed. "Is it permissible to ask who else has +been thus--honoured?" + +The clergyman paused a moment before replying, and it was evident a +conflict was taking place in his mind. The struggle was, however, soon +terminated, and he answered Anstice's question resolutely. + +"Yes, it is quite permissible. Indeed, I had already gained the consent +of the other--victim"--he smiled deprecatingly--"to tell you, if +necessary, what was being said behind your back." + +"Well?" Anstice's tone was peremptory, but his friend did not resent it. + +"The other anonymous letter--the only other one of which I have any +knowledge--was addressed to the wife of your colleague--I don't think +he's your rival--Dr. Willows." + +"Oh!" Anstice opened his eyes; he had not expected this revelation. +"Poor little woman! What a shame to victimize her!" + +"Yes--as you know, she's quite a girl, they've only been married three +months; and the letter worried her considerably--so much so, in fact, +that as Willows is away on a week's holiday she sent for me to advise +her in the matter." + +"What advice did you give her?" + +"Well, in the first flush of indignation she was all for sending the +horrid thing on to you--a pretty sure sign that any accusation against +you had missed its mark," said Carey with a smile. "However, her heart +failed her at the critical moment and she sent for me instead. She was +at school with some young cousins of mine and we are on quite friendly +terms; so she confided her perplexity to me at once." + +"I see." Anstice was thinking hard. "And I suppose you returned her +confidence by giving her yours?" + +"Yes." Carey looked at him frankly. "I requested her to keep my +confidence as I would keep hers--save to you--and I am sure she will do +so. But"--he spoke gravely now--"I am afraid, Anstice, there is someone +in the neighbourhood who wishes to work you ill." + +"By the way"--Anstice was not listening very closely--"you have not yet +told me the nature of the accusation. I presume it was the same in both +cases?" + +"Practically, yes. It was a statement, made very plainly and directly, +that you--you----" + +He broke off, his thin cheeks flushing; and Anstice smiled rather dryly. + +"Don't let it distress you," he said, with an attempt at jocularity. +"Suppose I save you the trouble of repeating the contents of the +letters. I daresay the writer stated that I once, in order to get myself +out of a tight place in India, wantonly sacrificed the woman who was my +companion?" + +"Yes," said Carey slowly, "that was the substance of both +communications. The idea was, I gather, to prevent the recipients having +confidence in you by pointing to you as one who would save himself at +the expense of a woman. Of course"--he spoke more fluently now--"no one +who knew you would dream of attaching any weight whatever to that sort +of cruel and senseless lie; and as I told Mrs. Willows, such a baseless +slander is better left to die for want of notice. She quite agreed with +me," he added hastily, and Anstice's face cleared. + +"Thanks, Carey." He held out his hand, and Carey's transparent, fingers +clasped it with a strength which would have been surprising to one who +did not know the indomitable spirit which dwelt in the wasted frame. +"You are a true friend, and your friendship deserves some return. +Unfortunately the only return I can make is to tell you the miserable +story which is perverted by the anonymous writer into something less +creditable than--I hope--you will judge it to be." + +He sprang up suddenly and leaned against the mantelpiece, hands in +pockets as usual; and in that position, looking down on his friend as he +sat in his capacious chair, he outlined once again the happenings of +that bygone Indian dawn. + +He related the affair shortly--it was not a subject on which he cared to +dwell; and the clergyman listened thoughtfully, his sunken eyes fixed on +the pale face beneath the clustering black hair with an intentness of +regard which would have disturbed anyone less engrossed than the +narrator of the sad little story. + +When he had finished Anstice moved abruptly. + +"Well, that's the truth--and now you see that those statements made +about me are the most insidious form of lying--with a good foundation of +half-truths. That's what makes it so infernally hard to refute them." + +"I see." Carey loaned forward thoughtfully, shielding his face from the +flames with his thin hands. "It is a pitiful story, Anstice; and if you +will allow me to say so I admire and respect a man who can live down the +memory of a tragedy as you have done." + +"I have lived it down--yes," said Anstice, rather grimly. "But it's been +jolly hard at times not to throw up the sponge. Several people have +suggested--discreetly--that suicide is quite justifiable in cases of +this sort, but----" + +"Suicide is _never_ justifiable." The clergyman's delicate features +stiffened. "From the days of Judas Iscariot--the most notorious suicide +in the history of the world, I suppose--it has been the refuge of the +coward, the ingrate, the weak-minded. People talk of the pluck required +to enable a man to take his own life. What pluck is there in +deliberately turning one's back on the problems one hasn't the courage, +or the patience, to solve? Believe me, suicide--self-murder--is an +unthinkable resource to a really brave man." + +He stopped; but Anstice made no reply, though a rather cynical smile +played about his lips; and presently Carey went on speaking. + +"It always seems to me such sheer folly, such egregious lunacy, to +precipitate one's self into the unknown, seeing that one can hardly +expect the Giver of Life to welcome the soul He has not called. And I +have often wondered what depths of misery, of shame, must overwhelm the +uninvited soul in what someone has called 'the first five minutes after +Death.'" + +His voice sank to a whisper on the last words; and for a moment the room +was very still. Then Carey leaned forward and laid one hand on the +other's arm with a rather deprecating smile. + +"Forgive me, Anstice! The subject we were discussing is one on which I +find it difficult to hold my peace. But knowing you, I know that suicide +is not, would never be, the way out to one of your disposition." + +Anstice moved restlessly. + +"Odd you should use that expression," he said quickly. "Others have +employed it in connection with this miserable story of mine. No, suicide +is not the way out--nor is another expedient to which I have had +recourse. But"--suddenly his face lost its quietness and grew keen, +alert--"this slander has got to be stopped. You see this is not the +first time the neighborhood has been infested with this plague." + +"You refer to the unhappy circumstances connected with my predecessor's +wife?" + +"Yes. You know the story, of course?" + +"Yes. I am also acquainted--but very slightly--with Mrs. Carstairs." + +"Then you know a much-maligned woman," said Anstice. "And it is in order +to save her from further unhappiness that I intend to sift this matter +to the bottom." + +"I am delighted to hear you say so," said Carey earnestly. "And if I can +help you in any way my services are yours. First of all, how do you +propose starting on the sifting process?" + +"I have already made a start," rejoined Anstice. "Through the good +offices of Sir Richard Wayne, who has also been pestered with a letter, +I have discovered that the writing of those communications and of those +earlier ones you mentioned just now is in many respects identical." + +Carey sat upright, his face alight with interest. + +"Really? You think the writer of both is the same?" + +"Yes. Of course until I have studied the two letters in my possession a +little more closely I can't be positively certain on the point; but I +intend to submit them both to an expert at the first opportunity." + +"I can help you there," said Carey quite eagerly. "I mean, if you do not +know of a reliable expert I can give you the name of the cleverest man +in England." + +"Can you?" Anstice's notebook was out in a second. "Thanks very much--I +will write to him to-morrow. But in my own mind I have not a shadow of +doubt that the same person wrote them both." + +"By the way"--Carey spoke slowly--"how many people about here would be +likely to know the story you have told me to-night? Out in India, of +course, there might be some who would remember such a tragic episode. +But it's a far cry from Alostan to Littlefield." + +"The only people in the neighbourhood who have heard the true story are, +so far as I know, Sir Richard Wayne and"--he hesitated--"and his +daughter, who is now Mrs. Cheniston." + +"I see." Fraser Carey's eyes had noted the change of tone as Anstice +spoke the last name; and his quick humanism was stirred by the pitiful +idea which crossed his mind. "Sir Richard's daughter knew the story? +And--may we conclude that her husband would naturally share her +knowledge?" + +"Naturally--yes." He emphasized the word. "You see I omitted to tell you +that the girl I--the girl who was with me in the hut was engaged to this +very man, Bruce Cheniston, whom Miss Wayne eventually married." + +"Was she, indeed?" Carey was really surprised. "What a strange +coincidence that you should meet again--as I suppose you met--in +Littlefield." + +"We met, yes," said Anstice, his eyes growing fierce at the remembrance +of their meeting. "But--well, as you will readily see, none of those +persons is in the least likely to have anything to do with the letters +we are discussing. I daresay Mrs. Carstairs may possibly know the +story--if her brother saw fit to hand it on to her. But so far as I know +they are the only people who do know it, and naturally we can write all +of them off the list of suspects at once." + +"Quite so. I wonder"--Carey rose as he spoke--"I wonder if anyone else +has received one of those shameful letters? Of course should the matter +go no further there is not much real harm done, though of course----" + +"Whether there are other letters or not the matter is going to be +thoroughly investigated," said Anstice resolutely; and Carey experienced +a disturbing and quite unusual pang of regret for his own vanished youth +and strength as he heard the ring of determination in the other man's +voice, noted the firm set of his lips and the proud and dauntless +gesture with which he threw back his head, his black eyes sparkling. + +"Well, I shall follow the course of events with deep interest," he said, +striving as he spoke to fight down that unworthy sensation of envy of +another's superior equipment for the battle of life. "Of course I will +keep my own counsel; and in a few days at latest you should know whether +your enemy intends to strike again." + +"It is very good of you to take an interest in the horrible affair." +Anstice was really grateful. "Must you go? You haven't given me much of +your company to-night." + +"I must go--yes." His smile robbed the words of any discourtesy. "But +don't forget to call upon me if you want any help. And for the sake of +all concerned, but especially, if I may say so, for the sake of the poor +lady at Cherry Orchard, I trust you may be able to clear the matter up +for all the world to see." + +"It is chiefly for Mrs. Carstairs' sake that I intend to do so," +returned Anstice briefly. "Personally I don't care what may be said +about me; but I don't mean Mrs. Carstairs to be victimized further. And +if it costs me every penny I've got in the world the writer of these +letters shall be brought to book!" + +And Fraser Carey agreed, mentally, with Sir Richard's estimation of Mrs. +Carstairs' new champion. But he went further than Sir Richard, in that +he found occasion to wonder whether after all this unexpected and +unwelcome repetition of the former anonymous campaign which had +convulsed Littlefield might not in the end prove the salvation of the +man against whom it was presumably directed. + +Unlike Sir Richard, Carey was an observer of men, a student of human +nature, and he had not failed to notice the increased alertness which +had characterized Anstice this evening as he discussed the situation. +The rather bitter, indifferent look which generally clouded his face had +lifted, giving way to a brighter, more open expression; and the half +melancholy cynicism which Carey had deplored had vanished before the +eager determination to see an innocent and wronged woman righted in the +eyes of the world. + +"The man has brooded so long over what he considers to be an injustice +of God that he has lost, temporarily, his sense of proportion," said +Carey to himself as he trudged, rather wearily, homeward. "But if he +devotes himself, as he seems anxious to do, to the service of a woman +who has suffered an equal injustice, though at the hands of man this +time, possibly he will forgot his own bitterness in the contemplation of +her marred life. And God, who is the God of Justice, whatever scoffers +may say, will bring the truth to light in His own good time. So the two +tragedies may react on one another; for the lives of all of us are bound +together by mysterious and undreamed-of links; and in the effort to free +the soul of a woman from its bondage his own soul may well find its +freedom." + +But Fraser Carey was a mystic; and since the materialistic world looks +with suspicion on mysticism, it is probable that even Anstice, who knew +and respected him, would have heard his last speech with a passing +wonder that a man should hold so unpractical and untenable a view of +existence as the words would seem to imply. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Before he went to bed on the night of Carey's visit to him Anstice wrote +a letter to the expert recommended by his friend, inquiring whether an +appointment could be made for the following Friday afternoon; and on +Thursday night a laconic telegram arrived fixing three o'clock on Friday +for the suggested interview. + +It had seemed to Anstice that a personal interview with the expert would +be far more satisfactory than a prolonged correspondence; and he hurried +through his work on Friday morning and caught the noon express to London +with a minute to spare. + +He had the carriage to himself; and during the quick journey to town he +pored over the two specimens of handwriting which he was taking up for +examination until he was more than ever convinced that both were written +by the same hand. + +Mr. Clive, the noted handwriting expert, had a flat in Lincoln's Inn; +and thither Anstice hastened in a taxi, arriving just as the clocks of +London were striking three; a feat in punctuality which possibly +accounted for the pleasant smile with which Mr. Clive greeted his +visitor. + +The expert was a tall and thin person, with deep-set and brilliant eyes +hidden more or less by a pair of rimless eyeglasses; and Anstice was +suddenly and humorously reminded of the popular idea of a detective as +exemplified in Sherlock Holmes and his accomplished brethren. + +When he smiled Mr. Clive lost his somewhat austere expression; and as +Anstice obeyed his invitation to enter his sitting-room the latter felt +that he had come to the right person with whom to discuss the problem of +these annoying letters. + +"Now, Dr. Anstice." Clive pushed forward a chair for his visitor and +sank into another one himself, leaning back and joining his finger-tips +in a manner which again reminded Anstice involuntarily of the +super-detective. "I expect your time is as valuable as mine--probably +more so--and we won't waste it in preliminaries. I gather you have some +specimens of handwriting to submit to me?" + +"Yes. I have two letters to show you." He drew them carefully from his +notebook. "What I want to know is, whether they were both written by the +same hand or not." + +Mr. Clive unlaced his finger-tips and took the papers carefully from his +visitor; after which, rather to Anstice's amusement, he removed his +eyeglasses and proceeded to study the letters without their aid. + +For several minutes he pored over them in silence, the letters spread +out on the table before him; and Anstice, watching, could make nothing +of the inscrutable expression on his face. Presently he rose, went to a +little cabinet at the end of the room, and took from it a small +magnifying glass, with whose aid he made a further study of the two +documents; after which he resumed his eyeglasses and turned to Anstice +with a smile. + +"Your little problem is quite simple, Dr. Anstice," he said amiably. "As +soon as I looked at these letters I guessed them to be the work of one +hand. With the help of my glass I know my guess to be correct." + +For a moment Anstice could not tell whether he were relieved or +disappointed by this confirmation of his own suspicions; but the expert +did not wait for his comments. + +"If you will look through the glass you will see that the similarities +in many of the letters are so striking that there is really no possible +question as to their being written by one hand." He pushed the papers +and glass across to Anstice, who obediently bent over the table and +studied the letters as they lay before him. "For instance"--Clive moved +to Anstice's side and, leaning over his shoulder, pointed with a slim +finger--"that 'I' in India is identical with the one with which this +letter opens; and that 's' with its curly tail could not possibly have +been traced by any hand save that which wrote this one. There are other +points of resemblance--the spaces between the words, for instance--which +prove conclusively, to my mind at least, that the letters are the work +of one person; but I expect you have already formed an opinion of your +own on the subject." + +"Yes," said Anstice. "To be frank, I have. I was quite sure in my own +mind that they were written by one person; but I wanted an expert +opinion. And now the only thing to be discovered is--who is that +person?" + +Clive smiled. + +"That is a different problem--and a more difficult one," he said +quietly. "These anonymous letters are very often exceedingly hard nuts +to crack. But probably you have someone in your mind's eye already." + +"No," said Anstice quickly, moved by a sudden desire to enlist this +man's sympathy and possible help. "I'm completely in the dark. But I +intend to find out who wrote these things. I suppose"--for a second he +hesitated--"I suppose it isn't in your province to give me any possible +clue as to the identity of the writer?" + +The other laughed rather dryly. + +"I'm not a clairvoyant," he said, "and I can't tell from handling a +letter who wrote it, as the psychometrists profess to be able to do. But +I will tell you one or two points I have noted in connection with these +things." He flicked them rather disdainfully with his finger. "They are +written by a woman--and I should not wonder if that woman were a +foreigner." + +"A foreigner?" Anstice was genuinely surprised. "I say, what makes you +think that? The writing is not foreign." + +"No. You are right there inasmuch as the regulation writing of a +foreigner, French, Italian, Spanish, is fine and pointed in character, +while this is more round, more sprawling and clumsy. But"--he frowned +thoughtfully, and Anstice thought he looked more like Sherlock Holmes +than ever--"there is one point in connection with this last letter which +has evidently not struck you. Suppose you read it through carefully once +more, and see if you can discover something in it which appears a trifle +un-English, so to speak." + +Anstice took the second letter as desired, and read it through +carefully, while Clive watched him with an interest which was not +feigned. Although Anstice had no suspicion of the fact, Clive, who had +travelled in India, had in the light of that letter identified his +visitor directly with the central figure in that bygone tragedy in +Alostan; and although, owing to his absence from England, Clive had not +been one of the experts consulted in the Carstairs case, it was not hard +for him to place the first letter as belonging to that notorious series +of anonymous scrawls which had roused so much interest in the Press a +couple of years before this date. + +Just where the connection between the two cases came Clive could not +discover, but he had always felt a curiously strong sympathy with the +unknown man who had carried out a woman's wish just ten minutes too +soon, and he would willingly have helped Anstice to solve this problem +if he could have seen his way to find the solution. + +Presently Anstice looked up rather apologetically. + +"I'm awfully stupid, but I don't see what you mean about a +foreigner...." + +Clive smiled. + +"Don't you? Well, I'll explain. And after all I may be wrong, you know. +However, here goes." He bent down again and pointed to the word India, +which for some reason was set in inverted commas. "Don't you notice any +peculiarities about these commas? Think of the usual manner in which an +English writer uses them--and note the difference here." + +Anstice studied the word with suddenly keen attention, and instantly +noted the peculiarity of which Clive had spoken. + +"The first double comma, so to speak, is set below the line, and the +other one above. But English writers and printers use both above the +line. Isn't that so?" + +"Yes. Whereas in the majority of French or Italian printing the commas +are set as they are here--a trick which, to my mind, points to the +strong probability, at least, of the writer of this letter being a +foreigner of sorts." + +"Italian! Why----" Suddenly a vision of the woman with the Italian name, +Tochatti, Mrs. Carstairs' personal attendant, flashed into Anstice's +mind, and Clive's eyes grew still keener in expression as he noted the +eager tone in his visitor's voice. + +"Well?" As Anstice paused the expert spoke quickly. "Does the suggestion +convey anything to your mind?" + +"Yes," said Anstice. "It does. But the only Italian--or +half-Italian--person I know, a woman, by the way, is absolutely the last +one I could suspect in the matter." + +"Really?" As he spoke Clive removed his eyeglasses once more and stared +with his brilliant eyes at the other man's face. "Don't forget that in +cases like these it is generally the last person to be suspected who +turns out to be the one responsible. Of course I don't know the facts of +the case, and my suggestions are therefore of little practical value. At +the same time the very fact that you are able at once to identify an +Italian in the case----" + +"She is not altogether Italian," said Anstice slowly. "She's a +half-breed, so to speak--and I really can't in fairness suspect her, +devoted as she is to Mrs. Carstairs----" + +He broke off abruptly, annoyed with himself for having betrayed so much; +but Clive's manner suddenly became more animated. + +"See here, Dr. Anstice." He sat down again, and handed his cigarette +case to his visitor. "May I be frank with you?" + +"Certainly." He accepted a cigarette and Clive resumed immediately. + +"I think I am correct in assuming that the first letter is one of those +supposed--by some people--to have been written by Mrs. Carstairs, wife +of Major Carstairs of the Indian Army?" + +"Yes." It would have been folly to deny the correctness of the +assumption. + +"Well, I was not professionally interested in the case, but all along I +have had very grave doubts as to the course of justice in that unhappy +affair. And I have always thought the sentence was unjustifiably +severe." + +Anstice's face cleared, and his manner lost its first stiffness. + +"I am glad to hear you say so," he said heartily. "For my own part I am +perfectly convinced Mrs. Carstairs was absolutely innocent in the +matter. You see, I have the privilege of her acquaintance, and it would +be quite impossible for her to stoop to so low and degrading an action." + +"Just so." For a second the expert wondered whether Dr. Anstice's +interest in Mrs. Carstairs arose from a purely personal dislike to see +an innocent woman unjustly accused or from some warmer feeling; but +after all it was no concern of his, and he dismissed that aspect of the +case from his mind for the present. "But I should like to ask you to +explain one thing to me. Would it have been possible for this Italian +woman of whom you speak to have written those former letters? I gather +that it is not altogether impossible, though I daresay improbable, for +her to be connected with this last one; but of course, if she must be +acquitted of any hand in the first, the clue drops to the ground at +once." + +"Well"--for a second Anstice hesitated, then resolved to speak plainly. +"To tell you the truth, it would have been quite possible for her to be +mixed up in both affairs--save for one thing. The woman, is a servant in +the household of Mrs. Carstairs; but she's not only absolutely devoted +to her mistress, but is also unable to write even her name." + +"What proof have you of that?" The question shot out so abruptly that +Anstice was genuinely startled. + +"Proof? Well, the woman herself admits it, and certainly she has never +been seen to write so much as a word----" + +"That does not prove she could not write quite well if she wished to," +said Clive quietly. "People do strange things in this queer world of +ours, Dr. Anstice, as I expect you know considerably better than I do. +Have you never had an hysterical patient who declared she could not walk +and after being carried about for months has been discovered dancing a +fandango in her bedroom on the sly?" + +He laughed and threw away his cigarette. + +"Perhaps that's not quite a typical case, but you must have known of +many people who declare they have lost the use of one or more of their +faculties--possibly in order to gain sympathy from their friends?" + +"Quite so." Anstice could not but admit the fact. "But as you say, in +these cases there is generally some definite object to be gained, even +if it is only the desire for sympathy. In this case, however, the motive +appears to be lacking, for I gather that long before the anonymous +letters began to arrive this woman had admitted her inability to handle +pen or pencil." + +"Really? That complicates matters a little," said Clive thoughtfully. +"Though, of course, if the woman were a schemer it is possible she might +prepare the way, so to speak, for some time beforehand. In any case it +is an interesting problem. But I don't quite see why this +woman--supposing it to be she--? should start another campaign, +directed, this time, against you. Surely she can't want her mistress, to +whom you say she is devoted, to be suspected once more?" + +"I don't know--I confess it is a problem beyond my powers to solve," +said Anstice rather hopelessly; and Clive answered at once, with a kind +note in his voice. + +"Don't say that, Dr. Anstice. All sorts of mysteries have come to light +sooner or later, you know, and it is quite on the cards this one may be +easier to solve than you think at present. At any rate, if I may give +you a word of advice, keep your eye on the Italian woman. I'll swear +those inverted commas are of foreign origin, and as a doctor you ought +to be able to find some way of penetrating through any imposition in the +way of pretence." + +"Thanks," said Anstice, rather amused at this tribute to his powers. +"I'll do my best. Anyway, you have given me valuable help, and I'll +follow up this clue at once." + +"Do--and let me know the result." Clive followed his visitor to the +door. "I really am genuinely interested in the case, and I shall be +pleased to hear from you how things progress." + +They parted on mutually cordial terms, and an Anstice walked away he +began to feel as though, after all, this mystery might yet be solved; +though he was bound to confess that at present the introduction of +Tochatti's name merely complicated matters. + +He had a couple of hours to fill in before repairing to the station, and +feeling in the mood for exercise, he set out for a brisk walk, careless +of whither his steps led him while he pondered over his recent interview +with Clive. + +After the quiet and pastoral solitude of Littlefield London seemed +unpleasantly crowded and noisy. The reek of petrol was a poor substitute +for the clean country air, and the hoot of innumerable motors and 'buses +struck on his ear with new and singularly disagreeable force as he took +his way along Piccadilly. + +Suddenly a noise considerably louder and more ominous than the rest +penetrated his hearing, and looking hastily round he saw that a +collision had taken place between a taxi-cab and a motor-van bearing the +name of a well-known firm in Oxford Street--with apparently tragic +results to the taxi-cab, which lurched in the road like a drunken man +vainly attempting to steer a straight course, and eventually toppled +half over on to the pavement, where it struck a lamp-post with a +terrific crash as it came to rest. + +With the rapidity peculiar to the life of cities a crowd instantly began +to assemble; and as a burly policeman, notebook in hand, pushed through +the people, a middle-aged gentleman stepped, with some difficulty, out +of the wrecked cab, and stumbled forward on to the kerb, almost into the +arms of Anstice, who reached the spot at the same moment and caught him +as he staggered and seemed about to fall. + +"Hold up, sir!" Anstice involuntarily gripped the gentleman's shoulder +to support him; and his friendly tone and prompt help apparently assured +the other man, who pulled himself together pluckily. + +"Thanks, thanks!" He was white, and evidently had been somewhat upset, +for the taxi had swerved half across the road to the discomfort of its +occupant. "You are most kind. I am really not hurt, only a little +shaken. The driver of the van was entirely to blame--I hope, constable, +you will make all possible inquiries into the matter." + +As a first step towards doing so the policeman stolidly requested the +speaker's name and address, and these having been furnished he proceeded +to interrogate the van-driver and the taxi-man, both of whom were only +too ready to pour out voluble explanations, each accusing the other of +carelessness with a freedom of language only known, apparently, to those +who have intimate acquaintance with the dark ways of motors and their +accompanying vices. + +In the meantime the middle-aged gentleman turned to Anstice with a word +of gratitude for his timely support. + +"You're sure you're not hurt?" Anstice thought the other man looked +oddly white. "I'm a doctor--and if I can do anything for you----" + +"No, I'm really all right, thanks." He relinquished Anstice's arm, which +he had been unconsciously holding, and looked round him. "By good luck +I'm opposite my club, and if this fellow has finished with me I'll go in +and sit down." + +The constable intimated that he had no further need of him for the +moment; and having asserted his readiness to appear in court in +connection with the case he turned back to Anstice. + +"Will you come in and have a peg with me?" His invitation was cordial. +"I'm all alone--just back from India, and if you can spare five minutes, +I'll be glad of your company." + +"Thanks." Anstice was curiously attracted towards the man. "I'm killing +time, waiting for a train, and I'll come with pleasure." + +They went up the steps of the building outside which the accident had +occurred; and five minutes later his new friend, brushed and tidied, +every speck of dust removed from his well-cut suit, led him to a +comfortable corner of the smoking-room and invited him to take a seat, +calling to a waiter as they sat down. + +"What will you drink--whisky-and-soda? Right--I'll have the same--a +large whisky for me," he said, as the man moved away. "I really feel as +though I want a stiff drink," he added, rather apologetically, to +Anstice. + +"I expect you do--your taxi came a fearful bump on the kerb," said +Anstice, "You were lucky not to get shoved through the window." + +"Yes--it was down, fortunately, or I might have got in quite a nasty +mess with cut glass." He hesitated a moment. "By the way, shall we +exchange cards? Here's mine, at any rate." + +He laughed and pushed the slip of pasteboard over to Anstice, who +returned the courtesy before picking it up. But as the latter glanced at +it perfunctorily, with no premonition of the surprise in store for him, +the name he read thereon sent a sudden thrill through his veins; and he +uttered a quite involuntary exclamation which caused his companion to +look up in amazement. + +For by one of those strange coincidences which happen every day, yet +never lose their strangeness, the man who sat opposite to Anstice on +this murky November afternoon was Chloe Carstairs' husband, Major +Carstairs. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +For a moment his _vis-a-vis_ regarded him with a very natural surprise. +Then: + +"You seem a little astonished," he said, with a hint of stiffness in his +manner. "May I ask if my name is familiar to you? I don't think I +remember yours--though"--he stole another glance at the card, and his +brows drew together a little thoughtfully--"Now that I come to look at +it I do seem to have heard it before." + +"I daresay you have, if you have lived in India. Unfortunately, my name +was pretty well known in that country once, for the proverbial nine +days." His voice was a little savage. "But don't trouble about _my_ +name--let me admit at once that yours is perfectly familiar to me." + +He broke off as the waiter approached with their glasses; and until he +had vanished Anstice said no more. Then he continued steadily: + +"You see I am living at present in Littlefield; and I have the honour of +being acquainted with a lady bearing the same name as yourself." + +"You mean my wife?" He spoke calmly; and Anstice found himself admiring +the other's composure. "Then you will be able to give me the latest news +of her and of my little daughter. Has she--Cherry, I mean--quite +recovered from that serious burning accident in September?" + +"Quite, I think." For a second Anstice's heart was sick within him as he +remembered the night on which that accident had taken place; but he +stifled the memory and continued steadily. "She got over it splendidly, +and she is not marked by even the tiniest scar." + +"That's a good thing." Major Carstairs took a drink from the contents of +his glass, and then, setting it down, looked Anstice squarely in the +face. "See here, Dr. Anstice, by a strange coincidence you and I have +been brought together this afternoon, and I should be very much obliged +if you will be kind enough to answer me one or two questions." + +"I am quite ready to answer any questions you may care to ask, Major +Carstairs." Anstice sat upright and pushed aside his glass, and Major +Carstairs began at once. + +"First of all, how long have you been in Littlefield?" + +"A little over twelve months. I went there, to be exact, in September of +last year." + +"I see. And you have been acquainted with Mrs. Carstairs during the +whole of that time?" + +"Not quite. I first met Mrs. Carstairs in the spring, when I was called +in to attend her professionally." + +"I see. As a doctor you will naturally be acquainted with many people in +the neighbourhood; and that being so"--Major Carstairs moistened his +lips and went heroically on--"you are of course familiar with my wife's +story--you know all about those damned anonymous letters--and their +sequel?" + +"Yes." Anstice met his gaze fully. "I know the story, and I am glad of +this opportunity to assure you of my unswerving belief in Mrs. +Carstairs' innocence of the charge brought against her. I hope you don't +consider my assertion uncalled-for," he added hastily. + +For a long moment Major Carstairs said nothing, gazing ahead of him +thoughtfully, and Anstice studied the face of Chloe Carstairs' husband +with deep interest. + +He said to himself that this man was a gentlemen and a man of honour. +There was something about him, something dignified, reserved, a little +sad, which won Anstice's usually jealously-withheld sympathy at once; +and although he had hitherto pictured Major Carstairs as harsh, +unforgiving, narrow-minded, inasmuch as he could not bring himself to +believe his wife innocent of a degrading charge, now that he saw the man +himself, traced the lines in his face which spoke of tragedy, noted the +sadness in his eyes, and heard the gentle note in his voice as he spoke +of Chloe, Anstice was ready to swear that this man had not lightly +disbelieved his wife. + +If he had left her, it had not been done easily. He had surely acted in +accordance with his lights, which would permit no compromise in a matter +of honour; and as he now sat opposite to Major Carstairs, Anstice felt a +strange new respect springing up in his heart for the man who had had +the courage to stand by his inward convictions, however terribly, +tragically mistaken those convictions might have been. + +When at length that long pause ended, Anstice was surprised by the +manner of its ending. + +Major Carstairs leaned across the little table and laid his +square-fingered hand, brown with the suns of India, on Anstice's arm. + +"From the bottom of my heart I thank you for those words," he said +earnestly. "I am glad to know my wife has one friend, at least, in +Littlefield, who is able to believe in her innocence." + +"She has more than one, sir," returned Anstice significantly, as +Carstairs withdrew his hand. "Sir Richard Wayne is as firmly convinced +as I that Mrs. Carstairs has been the victim of a cruel injustice. +And----" + +"Sir Richard? Ah, yes, he was always a true friend to Chloe." He spoke +absently and for a second said no more. Then he suddenly bent forward +resolutely. "Dr. Anstice, I see you are to be trusted. Well, you have +doubtless heard that I left my wife because I could not bring myself to +acquit her of the charge brought against her. I don't know how much you +may have learned, but I give you my word the evidence against her +was--or appeared to be--overwhelming." + +"So I have heard." Anstice's tone was strictly non-committal, and after +a glance at his impassive face Carstairs went on speaking. + +"You must forgive me for reminding you that Mrs. Carstairs never +categorically denied the charges made. That is to say, she implied that +any such denial was, or should be, unnecessary; and it seemed as though +her pride forbade her realizing how unsatisfactory her silence was--to +others." + +"Forgive me, Major Carstairs." Anstice took advantage of a momentary +pause. "May I not just suggest that a categorical denial was +unnecessary? Surely to anyone who knew her, Mrs. Carstairs' silence must +have been sufficient refutation of the charge?" + +He was almost sorry for his impulsive words when he noted their effect. +Major Carstairs' naturally florid complexion turned grey; and his whole +face grew suddenly aged. In that moment Anstice felt that his speech, +with its implied rebuke, had been both impertinent and unjust; yet he +hardly knew how to repair his error without committing still another +breach of good taste. + +Accordingly he said nothing; and after a moment had passed Major +Carstairs spoke with something of an effort. + +"I am glad to see my wife has found a champion in you," he said, with a +smile which Anstice felt to be forced. "And even although as a partisan +of hers you naturally think me cruel and unjust, may I ask you to +believe that I would give years--literally years--of my life to be able +to think myself mistaken in my first judgment of that unhappy affair!" + +The note of passion in the last words moved Anstice powerfully; and he +forgot his own delicate position in a sudden quite unusual desire to +justify himself. + +"Major Carstairs, forgive me if I seem to you impertinent, meddlesome. I +know quite well that this is no business of mine, but--but I know Mrs. +Carstairs, and I know she has been made bitterly unhappy by this +wretched misunderstanding. And I am sure, as sure as I am that you and I +sit here to-day, that she never wrote one word of all those beastly +letters--why, I can almost prove it to you, if you really care for such +proof--and then----" + +He stopped short, arrested by the change in Carstairs' face. His eyes +suddenly blazed with a new and startling fire; and the hand which had +been idly playing with a glass clenched itself into a determined fist. + +"My God, man, what are you saying? If you can prove my wife to be +innocent, why in God's name do you let me sit here in Purgatory?" + +"I ... I said almost----" Anstice positively stammered, so taken by +surprise was he. + +"Well, that's enough to be going on with." Carstairs spoke resolutely. +"Look here, I'll tell you something I meant to keep to myself. For the +last two months--ever since I received my wife's short and formal letter +telling me of Cherry's accident--I've been haunted by the thought that +perhaps after all I was mistaken--frightfully, appallingly mistaken, in +the conclusion I came to at the time of the trial. At first I was +convinced, as you know, that the verdict was the only possible one; and, +although it nearly killed me, I could do nothing but leave her and +return to India alone. But in the last few weeks I have asked myself +whether after all I have not made a terrible mistake. Supposing my wife +were innocent, that her silence were the only possible course open to a +proud and honourable woman ... supposing that a grievous wrong had been +done, and the real writer of those letters allowed to escape scot-free. +Oh, there were endless suppositions once I began to dwell on the +possibility of my wife's absolute ignorance of the vile things ... and +when at last I was able to sail for England I came home with the full +determination to go into the matter once more, to rake up, if necessary, +the whole sad affair from the beginning, and see whether there were not +some other solution to the mystery than the one I was forced to accept +at the time of the trial." + +"You mean that, sir?" Anstice spoke eagerly, and the other man nodded. +"Then I'm bound to say I think it is something more than coincidence +that has brought us together to-day. I'm not a religious fellow, and I +always feel that if there be a God He went back on me years ago in a way +I had not deserved, but I do think that there is something more than +chance in our meeting; and if good comes out of it, and the truth is +brought to light, well"--he laughed with a sudden gaiety that surprised +himself--"I'll forget my old grudge against the Almighty and admit there +is justice in the world after all!" + +"Dr. Anstice," said Carstairs, "I don't understand you. Would you mind +explaining a little more clearly just what you mean? Why should a +meeting between you and me be anything more than the prelude--as I hope +it may be--to a very pleasant friendship? I honour your belief in my +wife, but when you speak of proof----" + +"Look here, Major Carstairs." With a sudden resolve Anstice pulled his +note-case out of his pocket and extracted two sheets of thin paper +therefrom. "You will probably be surprised when I tell you that those +infernal letters have started again, and this time I am the person +honoured by the writer's malicious accusations." + +"The letters have started again? And you are the victim? But----" + +"Well, look at this charming epistle sent to a certain gentleman in +Littlefield a day or two ago." Anstice handed across the letter he had +received from Sir Richard Wayne, and Major Carstairs took the sheet +gingerly, as though afraid of soiling his fingers by mere contact with +the paper. + +He read the letter through, and then looked at Anstice with a new +expression in his eyes, which were so oddly reminiscent of Cherry's +brown orbs. + +"Dr. Anstice, were you the hero of that unfortunate episode in the hills +a few years ago?" + +Anstice nodded. + +"I was the hero, if you put it so. Personally I should say I feel more +like the villain of the piece. That, anyway, is how the writer of this +letter regards me." + +"Oh, that's nonsense." He spoke authoritatively. "You could have done +nothing else, and I think myself you showed any amount of pluck in +carrying out the girl's request. You and I, who have been in India, know +what strange and terrible things happen out there; and I tell you +plainly that if I had been that unfortunate girl's brother, or father, I +should have thanked you from the bottom of my heart for having the +courage to do as you did." + +Now it was Anstice's turn to change colour. These words, so heartily +spoken, spoken, moreover, by a man who knew the world, whose +commendation carried weight by reason of the speaker's position, fell +with an indescribably soothing touch on the sore places in Anstice's +soul, and in that moment his inward wound received its first impetus +towards healing. + +He threw back his head with something of the old proud gesture which was +now so rarely seen, and his voice, as he replied, held a new note of +confidence. + +"Thanks awfully, sir." His manner was almost boyish. "You have no idea +what it means to me to hear you say that. Of course I acted as I did, +meaning it for the best, but things turned out so tragically wrong----" + +"That was not your fault." Major Carstairs' reply was decisive. "And +anyone who ventures to criticize your action proclaims himself a fool. +As for the stupid accusations in this letter, well, I should say no one +would give them a second's credence." + +"Well, I did venture to hope that my few friends would not believe it," +returned Anstice, smiling. "And if I had only myself to consider I +should not bother my head about it. But you see there is someone +else----" + +"You mean Mrs. Carstairs?" His manner was suddenly brisk. "Quite so. Of +course a second series of letters would remind the neighbourhood of the +first. Well, if you can bring yourself to allow me to have that letter I +will submit it to one of those handwriting fellows----" + +Anstice interrupted him abruptly. + +"I've already done so. And the report of the expert I consulted--a +well-known man of the name of Clive--is that both these letters were +written by the same hand." + +"Ah! And did the expert utter any further authoritative dicta on the +matter?" + +"He gave me two--possible--clues." Anstice spoke slowly. "The letters +are, he says, probably written by a woman, and there is a strong +presumption in favour of that woman being a foreigner--for instance"--he +paused--"an Italian." + +"An Italian?" For a second Major Carstairs looked blank. Then a ray of +light illumined his mental horizon. "I say, you're not thinking of my +wife's maid, old Tochatti, are you?" + +"Well"--he spoke deliberately--"to tell you the truth, ever since Clive +suggested a foreigner, I _have_ been wondering whether the woman +Tochatti could have anything to do with the letters." + +"But old Tochatti! Why, she is absolutely devoted to my wife--been with +her for years, ever since she was a child. No, believe me, Dr. Anstice, +you must write Tochatti off the list." + +"Very well." Anstice mentally reserved the right to his own opinion. "As +you say, the woman certainly appears devoted both to Mrs. Carstairs and +the child. But I'm sure you will agree it is wise to leave no clue +uninvestigated in so serious a matter?" + +"Quite so. And you may rest assured the matter shall be thoroughly +investigated. By the way, you said something about a train. Are you +returning to Littlefield to-night?" + +"Yes. And it's time I was moving on," said Anstice, glancing at his +watch. "Shall I have the pleasure of your company on the journey?" + +"Not to-night. I have one or two matters to attend to in town, and I +must write and prepare Mrs. Carstairs for my visit. But I shall +certainly be down shortly, and I hope I may have the pleasure of meeting +you again before very long." + +"I hope we may meet soon," said Anstice heartily, and Major Carstairs +escorted his guest to the steps of the Club, where he took a cordial +farewell of him and stood watching the tall figure swing along +Piccadilly with the stride of an athlete. + +"So that's the fellow there was all the '_gup_' about." Major Carstairs +had heard the story of Hilda Ryder's death discussed a good many times +during his sojourn in India. "A thoroughly decent chap, I should say, +and it's deuced hard luck on him to go through life with a memory of +that sort rankling in his soul. Ah, well, we all have our private +memories--ghosts which haunt us and will not be laid; and at least there +is no disgrace in that story of his. At the worst it could only be +called a miscalculation--a mistake. But what if my mistake has been a +more grievous one--what if Chloe is innocent and I have misjudged her +cruelly? If that should be so," said Major Carstairs, "then my ghost +will never be laid. The man who shot Hilda Ryder will be forgiven for +his too hasty deed. But for a mistake such as mine there could be no +forgiveness." + +And as he turned to re-enter the club his face looked suddenly haggard +and old. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +The more Anstice pondered over the matter of the anonymous letters, the +more inclined he was to believe that the woman Tochatti was one of the +prime movers, if not the sole participator, in the affair. + +Leaving the subject of motive out of the question for the moment, it was +evident that Tochatti, of all the household, would have the most free +access to her mistress' writing-table or bureau; and Anstice knew, +through a chance word, that on the occasion of Mrs. Carstairs' fatal +visit to Brighton, she had been accompanied by her maid. + +True, the woman was supposed, by those around her, to be incapable of +writing, even to the extent of signing her name; but, as the export had +pointed out in the course of the interview, it was not unknown for a +person to deny the possession of some faculty, either from a desire to +gain sympathy or from some other and less creditable reason. + +The question of motive, however, was a more complicated one. Why should +this woman seek to injure her mistress in the first place, and having +done her an irrevocable wrong--always supposing Tochatti to be the +culprit--why should she seek now to bring dishonour on a man who had +never, to his knowledge, done her any harm? + +The thing seemed, on the face of it, absurd; yet somehow Anstice could +not relinquish his very strong notion that Tochatti was in reality at +the bottom of the business, and on the Sunday following his visit to Mr. +Clive he walked over to Greengates to discuss the matter with Sir +Richard Wayne. + +Sir Richard was almost pathetically pleased to see his visitor, for he +missed his pretty daughter sorely, and he welcomed Anstice cordially on +this foggy November afternoon. + +Over their cigars in Sir Richard's cosy sanctum Anstice gave him an +outline of his visit to the handwriting expert and the conclusions to be +drawn therefrom--a narrative to which Sir Richard listened with close +attention; and when Anstice had finished his story the older man took up +the subject briskly. + +"You really think this woman may be implicated? Of course, as you say, +she would have opportunities for tampering with Mrs. Carstairs' +belongings; but still--the question of motive----" + +"I quite realize that difficulty, Sir Richard. But I confess to a very +strong feeling of distrust for the woman since visiting Clive. He +suggested almost at once that the writer was a foreigner, and Tochatti +is about the only foreign, or half-foreign, person in Littlefield, I +should say." + +"Quite so." Sir Richard leaned back in his chair and placed his +finger-tips together in a judicial attitude. "Well, let us consider the +question of motive a little more fully. If the writer really were +Tochatti, we must suppose her to be actuated by some strong feeling. The +question is, what feeling would be sufficiently strong to drive her to a +deed of this nature?" + +He paused; but Anstice, having no suggestion to make, kept silence, and +Sir Richard went on with his speech. + +"Generally speaking, in the character of a woman of a Southern nature, +we find one or two strongly-marked attributes. One is a capacity for +love, equalled only by a capacity for hatred. Of course Tochatti is only +half Italian, but personally I distrust what we may call half-breeds +even more than the real thing. You know the old proverb, 'An Englishman +Italianate He is a devil incarnate'--and I believe there is some truth +in the words." + +"I share your distrust for half-breeds," said Anstice fervently. "And in +this case, although she speaks excellent English as a rule, it always +seems to me that Tochatti is more than half Italian. Do you agree with +me?" + +"I do--and that's why I distrust her," returned Sir Richard grimly. "I +confess I don't like the women of the Latin races--those of the lower +classes, anyway. A woman of that sort who is supplanted by a rival is +about the most dangerous being on the face of the earth. She sticks at +nothing--carries a knife in her garter, a phial of poison in her +handbag, and will quite cheerfully sacrifice her own life if she may +mutilate or destroy the aforesaid hated rival." + +"So I have always understood. But in this case, if you will excuse me +pointing it out, there is no possibility of love entering into it. To +begin with, Tochatti is a middle-aged woman; and of course there could +not be any question of rivalry between her and her mistress." + +"Oh, of course not. I was speaking generally," Sir Richard reminded him. +"But there are other reasons for jealousy besides the primary reason, +love. You know, in the case of these last letters, which are certainly +actuated by some very real spite against you ... why, what's the matter +now?" For Anstice had uttered an exclamation which sounded almost +exultant. + +"By Jove, sir, I believe I've got it--the reason why the woman should +feel spiteful towards me!" In his excitement he threw away his cigar, +half-smoked, and Sir Richard, noting the action, guessed that an +important revelation was at hand. + +"You've got it, eh?" Sir Richard sat upright in his chair. "Well, may I +hear it? It's no secret, I suppose?" + +"Secret? Heavens, no--but how intensely stupid I've been not to think of +it before!" + +"Go on--you're rousing my curiosity," said Sir Richard as Anstice came +to a sudden stop. "Tell me how on earth you have managed to rouse the +woman's spite. Personally, seeing how cleverly you pulled her adored +Cherry through that illness of hers, I should have thought she would +have extended her devotion to you." + +"That's just how the trouble began," rejoined Anstice quickly. "You +remember how the child set herself on fire one night in September?" + +"Yes--on the night before Iris' wedding day." In spite of himself +Anstice winced, and the other man noted the fact and wondered. "Set fire +to herself with a candle, didn't she?" + +"Yes--and Tochatti put out the flames somehow, burning one of her hands +in the process." + +"Did she? I had forgotten that." + +"Yes--with the result that she was not able to take her fair share of +nursing the child, and I accordingly installed a nurse." + +"Yes, I remember--a bonny girl, with a voice as soft as the coo of a +wood-pigeon." + +"Just so. Well, I--or rather Mrs. Carstairs--had a pitched battle with +Tochatti before she would consent to Nurse Trevor being engaged; and the +girl herself told me that the woman did her very best to make her life +unbearable while she was at Cherry Orchard." + +"The deuce she did! But if she were really incapacitated----" + +"She was; but with the unreasonableness of women--some women," he +corrected himself hastily, "she resented her enforced helplessness, and +looking back I can recall very well how she used to scowl at me when I +visited Cherry." + +"Really! You're not imagining it?" + +"I'm not an imaginative person," returned Anstice dryly. "I assure you +it was no fancy of mine. She used to answer any questions I put to her +with a most irritating sullenness; and once or twice even Mrs. Carstairs +reproved her--before me--for her unpleasant manner." + +"You think that would be sufficient to account for the animus against +you displayed in these letters?" + +"Honestly, I do. You see, luckily or unluckily, the child took a great +fancy to Nurse Trevor; and being ill and consequently rather spoilt, she +behaved capriciously towards her former beloved Tochatti--with the +result that the woman hated the nurse--and hated me the more for having +introduced her into the household." + +Sir Richard nodded meditatively. + +"Yes. I see. It hangs together, certainly, and it is quite a feasible +explanation. But what about the nurse? She would be the one against whom +Tochatti might be expected to wreak her spite----" + +"Yes, but you see Nurse Trevor was only a bird of passage, so to speak. +She had come down here from a private nursing home in Birmingham, and +had just finished nursing a case when I wanted her; and after Cherry was +better she returned to Birmingham; so that the woman would probably have +had a good deal of trouble in getting on her track." + +"Quite so. You, being at hand, were a more likely victim. Upon my soul, +it almost looks as though you were right. Still, even this does not +explain why she should ruin Chloe's life." + +"No, I admit that. But don't you think if we could bring this last +crime--for it is a crime--home to the Italian woman we could wring a +confession out of her concerning the first series of letters?" + +"Yes, that is quite possible. The question is, How are we going to bring +it home to her? At present we have no clue beyond the specialist's +opinion that the writer is a foreigner." + +"No, and it's going to be a hard nut to crack," said Anstice +thoughtfully. "But it shall be cracked all the same. What do you say to +taking Mrs. Carstairs into our confidence, Sir Richard? Of course the +idea will be a shock to her at first; but if the matter could be cleared +up, think what a difference it would make to her!" + +"Yes, indeed!" Sir Richard agreed heartily. "And to her husband as well. +You know, Major Carstairs is a man with a rather peculiar code of +honour; and you must not run away with the idea that because he refuses +to believe in his wife's innocence he is necessarily a narrow-minded +or--or callous person." + +"I don't," said Anstice quickly. "By the way I've not told you all that +happened the day I was in town. By a curious coincidence I met Major +Carstairs----" + +"What, is he in England again?" + +"Yes." Anstice related the particulars of the meeting between them, and +repeated, so far as he could remember it, the substance of the +subsequent conversation in the club. "So you see, Sir Richard, Major +Carstairs is not only ready, but longing, to be convinced of his wife's +innocence in the matter." + +"Good! That's capital!" Sir Richard beamed. "If once Chloe can be led to +understand that her husband will believe in her one day she will be +ready to help us to prove her innocence. You know I have sometimes +thought that if she had taken up a rather more human, more feminine +attitude, had relinquished the pride which forbade her to protest loudly +against the injustice which was done her, she might have been better off +in the end. It is very hard fighting for a woman who won't fight for +herself; and that idea of hers that if her own personal character were +not enough to prove her blameless of so vile a charge nothing else was +worth trying--well, it was the attitude of conscious innocence, no +doubt, but it was certainly above the heads of a conscientious, but +particularly unintelligent jury!" + +He put down the stump of his cigar, which unlike Anstice he had smoked +to the end, and looked at the other man with a kindly eye. + +"Look here, Anstice, why shouldn't we go--you and I--to visit Mrs. +Carstairs now?" + +"Now?" Anstice was somewhat taken aback at the proposal. + +"Yes. Why not? There's no time like the present. It is barely six +o'clock, and she will certainly be at home." + +"But--won't she be at church?" Anstice felt suddenly unwilling to go +into the matter with the mistress of Cherry Orchard. + +"Not she! Don't you know Chloe only goes to church once in a blue moon?" +Sir Richard laughed breezily. "I don't blame her--I expect she feels she +owes Providence a grudge--but anyway she will be at home to-night. +And--another inducement--Tochatti will almost certainly be at _her_ +church. Those Catholics are a queer lot," said Sir Richard, who was a +Protestant of the old school. "They will cheat you and lie to you--aye, +and half murder you, on a Saturday night--and turn up at Mass without +fail on Sunday morning!" + +"Yes, I know Tochatti does go to the Roman Catholic chapel at night," +owned Anstice rather reluctantly. "Well, sir, if you really think the +moment is propitious let us go by all means. After all, it is just +possible Mrs. Carstairs may have had suspicions of Tochatti herself." + +"Yes. I remember Iris often used to say she distrusted the woman--don't +know why. I never paid much attention to her caprices," said Sir Richard +with a smile; and Anstice made haste to seize the opportunity thus +offered. + +"Ah--by the way, what news have you of your daughter?" He could not call +her by the name he hated. "She is still in Egypt, I suppose?" + +"Yes. She and Bruce are somewhere in the Fayoum at present--he has been +engaged on some irrigation job for a rich Egyptian of sorts, and he and +Iris have been camping out in the desert--quite a picnic they seem to +have had." + +"Really?" For the life of him he could not speak naturally; but Sir +Richard was merciful and ignored his strained tone. + +"They sent me some photographs--snapshots--last week," said Sir Richard. +"Would you care to see them? I have them here somewhere." + +He opened a drawer as he spoke, and after rummaging in the contents for +a few moments drew out half a dozen small prints which he handed to +Anstice, saying: + +"Amateur, of course--but quite good, all the same. Oh, by the way"--he +spoke with elaborate carelessness--"how did you come? Are you walking, +or have you the car?" + +"The car? No, I walked--wanted exercise," said Anstice rather vaguely; +and Sir Richard nodded. + +"Then we'll have out the little car, and you shall drive us over if you +will. And if you'll excuse me for a moment I'll just go and order it +round." + +He waited for no reply, but bustled out of the room as though in sudden +haste; and left to himself Anstice turned over the little photographs he +held and studied them with eager eyes. + +Four of them were of Iris--happy little studies of her in delightfully +natural poses. In one she was standing bare-headed beneath a tall +date-palm, shading her eyes with her hand as though looking for someone +across the expanse of sunny sand before her. In another she stood by the +edge of the Nile, in converse with a native woman who bore a _balass_ on +her head; and even the tiny picture was sufficiently large to bring out +the contrast between the slim, fair English girl in her white gown and +Panama hat and the dusky Egyptian, whose dark skin and closely-swathed +robes gave her the look of some Old Testament character, a look borne +out by the surroundings of reed-fringed river and plumy, tufted palms. +In the third photograph Iris was on horseback; but it was the fourth and +last which brought the blood to Anstice's brow, made his heart beat +quickly with an emotion in which delight, regret, wild happiness and +over-mastering sorrow fought for the predominance. + +It was a photograph of Iris' head, nothing more; but it brought out +every separate charm with an art which seemed to bring the living girl +before the man who pored over the print with greedy eyes. + +She was looking straight out from the photograph and in her face was +that look of half-laughing, half-wistful tenderness which Anstice knew +so well. Her lips were ever so slightly parted; and in her whole +expression was something so vital as to be almost startling, as though +some tinge of the sitter's personality had indeed been caught by the +camera and imprisoned for ever in the picture. It was Iris as Anstice +knew--and loved--her best: youth personified, yet with a womanliness, a +gracious femininity, which seemed to promise a more than commonly +attractive maturity. + +And as he looked at the little picture, the presentment of the girl he +loved caught and imprisoned by the magic of the sun, Anstice felt the +full bitterness of his hopeless love surge over his soul in a flood +whose onrush no philosophy could stem. To him Iris would always be the +one desired woman in the world. No other woman, be she a hundred times +more beautiful, could ever fill the place held in his heart by this +grey-eyed girl. With her, life would have been a perpetual feast, a +lingering sacrament. Her companionship would have been sufficient to +turn the dull fare of ordinary life into the mysterious Bread and Wine +which only lovers know; and with her beside him there had been no +heights to which he might not have attained, no splendour of +achievement, of renown, even of renunciation, which might not have been +reached before the closing cadence which is death had ended, +irrevocably, the symphony of life. + +But not for him was this one supreme glory, the glory of an existence +spent with her. She had chosen otherwise--for one fiercely rebellious +moment he told himself he had been a fool, and worse, to enter on that +infamous bargain with Bruce Cheniston--and henceforth he must put away +all thoughts of her, must banish his dreams to that mysterious region +where our lost hopes lie--never, so far as we can see, to come to +fruition; unless, as some have thought, there shall be in another world +a great and marvellous country where lost causes shall be retrieved, +forlorn hopes justified, and the thousand and one pitiful mistakes we +make in our earthly blindness rectified at last. + + * * * * * + +The door opened suddenly, and Sir Richard's voice smote cheerily on his +ears. + +"I've got the car, Anstice, and if you are ready----" + +Anstice hastily replaced the photographs, face downwards on the table, +and turned to Sir Richard with a trace of confusion in his manner. + +"The car there? Oh, yes, I'm ready. You would like me to drive?" + +"If you will--then Fletcher can stop at home. You'll come back to dinner +with me, of course." + +With some haste Anstice excused himself; and after a courteous +repetition of the invitation Sir Richard did not press the matter. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Carstairs was at home, and alone; and in a moment the two men were +ushered into her pretty drawing-room, where she sat, book in hand, over +a dancing wood-fire. + +She looked up in some surprise as the door opened to admit visitors; but +on seeing Sir Richard she rose with a welcoming smile. + +"Sir Richard! How good of you to take pity on me on a day like this!" +She greeted the old man with almost daughterly affection; and then +turned to Anstice with a rather forced expression of cordiality. + +"You, too, Dr. Anstice! How sorry Cherry will be to have missed you!" + +"Is she in bed, then?" + +"Yes, I'm sorry to say she was a naughty girl and was put to bed +immediately after tea!" She laughed a little, and Anstice asked, +smiling, what had been the extent of Cherry's latest misdemeanour. + +"Oh, nothing very serious," said Chloe lightly. "It was really to soothe +Tochatti's wounded feelings that I had to banish the poor child. It +seems that one day last week, while out walking with Tochatti, Cherry +noticed a house in the village with all its blinds down; and on +inquiring the reason Tochatti informed her that someone was dead in the +house; further entering, so I gather, into full details as to the manner +in which Catholics decorate the death-chamber." + +"Oh?" Anstice looked rather blank. "But I don't see----" + +"Well, it seems the idea fired Cherry's imagination; and this morning, +when Tochatti returned from High Mass about noon, she found the blinds +pulled down in all the front windows of the house!" + +"The little monkey!" Sir Richard laughed. "I'll wager the woman got a +fright!" + +"She certainly did, and matters were not improved by Cherry coming to +meet her with her face quite wet with tears--you know Cherry is a born +actress--and begging her, between sobs, to come upstairs softly as +someone was dead!" + +"Someone? She did not specify who it was?" + +"No--or if she did Tochatti did not understand; but when she got into +the nursery she found an elaborately conceived representation of a +Catholic death-bed--flowers, bits of candle, and so on; and Cherry's +very biggest doll--the one you gave her, by the way, Dr. +Anstice--enacting the part of the corpse!" + +Even Anstice's mood was not proof against the humour of the small +child's pantomime; and both he and Sir Richard laughed heartily. + +"And Tochatti took it amiss?" Sir Richard put the question amid his +laughter. + +"Yes. It seems she had really had a bad fright; and on finding Cherry in +tears she never doubted that some tragedy had occurred!" + +"So you had to punish the poor mite for her realism!" + +"Yes. Tochatti waited for me to return--I was out motoring--and then +hauled the culprit before me; and although I really didn't see much harm +in poor little Cherry's joke I was obliged, in order to pacify Tochatti, +to sentence her to go to bed early--a special punishment on Sunday, +when, as a rule, she sits up quite late!" + +"I almost wonder," said Anstice slowly, "that Tochatti, devoted as she +is to Cherry, could bring herself to give the child away. One would have +expected her to hush up any small misdeeds, not dwell upon them to the +powers that be." + +Chloe looked at him with a hint of cynicism in her eyes. + +"Even Tochatti is human," she said, "and when one has had a fright one's +natural impulse, on being reassured, is to scold somebody. Besides, +Tochatti, in her way, is implacable. She never forgives what she really +considers an injury." + +These words, fitting in so curiously with their conversation a little +earlier, caused the men to glance surreptitiously at one another; but +Chloe, whose eyes were as sharp as her wits, intercepted the look. + +"Sir Richard, why do you and Dr. Anstice look at one another?" She put +the question directly, with her usual frankness; and Sir Richard met +candour with candour. + +"I will tell you in a moment, Chloe. First of all, I will admit that our +visit here to-night was made with a purpose. We came here to ask you one +or two questions which I feel sure you will answer as fully as +possible." + +"Certainly I will." Her manner had lost its animation and once more she +wore the marble mask which as a rule hid the real woman from the world's +gaze. "But won't you sit down? And if a cigarette will help you in your +cross-examination----" + +She sat down herself as she spoke, and Sir Richard followed her example; +but Anstice remained standing on one side of the fireplace; and after a +glance at his face Chloe did not repeat her invitation. + +Rather to Sir Richard's surprise Chloe did not wait for him to begin +questioning her; but put a question to him on her own account. + +"Sir Richard, has your visit anything to do with certain letters +received lately by several people in Littlefield?" + +Both the men, genuinely taken aback, stared at her in silence; and with +a faint smile she proceeded quietly. + +"Well, _I_ have heard of those letters, anyway. In fact"--she paused +dramatically before making her _coup_--"I've received one myself!" + +"You have?" Anstice's voice was full of dismay. + +"Yes. And I gather, from a short conversation I had with Mr. Carey last +evening, that there have been several more of the things flying about +this week." + +"Well"--Sir Richard looked rather helplessly at Anstice--"in that case +there is no need to make a mystery of it. Yes, Chloe, we did call here +to-night to talk over those abominable letters, and to see if you can +possibly help us to follow up a rather extraordinary clue." + +"A clue!" Chloe's eyes suddenly blazed. + +"Yes. That is to say--possible clue." Sir Richard hedged a little. "But +Anstice can tell you the story better than I can." + +"Will you, please, tell me, Dr. Anstice?" She turned to him, grave again +now; and he complied at once, giving her a full account of his visit to +Clive, and relating at length the expert's opinion on the letters. + +She heard him out in silence; her almond-shaped eyes on his face; and +Anstice omitted nothing of the happenings of that day in town, save his +unexpected meeting with her husband in Piccadilly. + +When he had finished Chloe sat quite still for a moment, saying nothing; +and neither of the men dreamed of hurrying her. + +At last: + +"But, Dr. Anstice--_Tochatti_! Why, she has been with me for years--ever +since I was a child like Cherry!" + +Her voice was so full of incredulity that for a moment both her hearers +wondered suddenly how they could have accepted the possibility of +Tochatti's guilt so readily. But Anstice's common sense reasserted +itself immediately; and he knew that the mere fact of Mrs. Carstairs' +unbelief did not really materially alter the main issue. It was natural +she should be surprised, unwilling to believe evil of the woman who, +whatever her faults, had served her faithfully; but this was no time for +sentimentality; and he replied to Chloe's last speech rather +uncompromisingly. + +"Even the fact that she has been with you for years does not preclude +the possibility of her doing this thing," he said. "Of course I can +understand you would hesitate to believe her capable of such wickedness, +but----" + +"But why should Tochatti wish to work me harm?" Her blue eyes were full +of a kind of hurt wonder. "And these last letters directed against you, +Dr. Anstice--why on earth should she have any spite against you?" + +"Dr. Anstice tells me she much resented the presence of the hospital +nurse in the house," chimed in Sir Richard. "Of course she has always +been absurdly jealous of any claim to Cherry's affection--even Iris +noticed that and used to say she hardly dared to pet the child before +Tochatti." + +"Yes." Chloe assented reluctantly. "That is quite true. She has always +been jealous; and I confess I once or twice saw her look at Dr. Anstice +with a--well, rather malignant expression. But I thought it was only a +passing jealousy; and judged it best to take no notice." + +"Of course all this is very largely conjectural," said Anstice slowly. +"Such evidence as we have is purely circumstantial; and wouldn't hang a +cat. But I admit that Mr. Clive's suggestion carries weight with me; and +it is certainly odd that he should have mentioned an Italian as the +possible author of the letters when there is a person of that +nationality--more or less--in the house." + +"Yes. I can see that for myself." Chloe's voice was low. "But to be +quite candid, I don't see how it would be possible to bring the letters +home to Tochatti. To begin with, she can't write." + +"Or pretends she can't. You must remember, Mrs. Carstairs, we have only +the woman's own word for that." + +"I certainly never remember seeing her with a pen in her hand," said +Chloe, "though of course that's no real proof. But if this horrible idea +is correct how are you going to prove it? You don't intend to tackle +Tochatti herself, I suppose?" + +"Not for the world," said Anstice hastily. "That would be a fatal +mistake. A woman who is clever enough to carry on an intrigue of this +kind without incurring suspicion is sufficiently clever to answer any +direct questioning satisfactorily. No. If Tochatti is the culprit--mind +you I only say if--she must be caught with guile, made to commit herself +somehow, or be taken red-handed in the act----" He broke off suddenly; +and the other two looked at him in surprise. + +"Well, Anstice, what's struck you now?" Sir Richard's tone was eager. + +"Only this. Is your writing-table always open to access, Mrs. Carstairs? +I mean, you don't lock up your ink and pens, and so on?" + +"No," she said, catching the drift of his questions at once. "Anyone in +the house could sit down here to write and be sure of finding everything +at hand." + +"Just so--and unless the person who wrote was considerate enough to use +the blotting-paper you would not know anyone had touched your things." + +"No--unless they were left strewn untidily about." + +"Which they would not be. Now, Mrs. Carstairs, to speak quite plainly, +what is there to prevent Tochatti, or any other member of your +household, creeping downstairs at the dead of night and making use of +those pens and sheets of paper which you so obligingly leave about for +anyone to play with?" + +"Nothing," she said with a smile. "But unless you propose that I should +sit up behind the curtains all night to see if some mysterious person +does creep down----" + +"That's just what I was going to propose," he said coolly. "At least I +wasn't suggesting that you should be the person; but you might allow +someone else to sit there on your behalf. You see, if Tochatti is really +the mysterious writer she would not like to run the risk of keeping pens +and ink in her own room where some prying eyes might light upon them +sooner or later. It would be much less incriminating to use another +person's tools, and it is quite possible many, if not all, of those +beastly letters were written at this very table!" + +The conviction in his tone brought forth a protest from Chloe. + +"Dr. Anstice, have you really made up your mind that my poor Tochatti is +the criminal? It seems to me that your evidence is very flimsy--after +all some uneducated person might quite easily put those inverted commas +wrong without being a foreigner; and I still disbelieve in Tochatti's +power to write. Besides"--she paused a moment--"she has always served me +with so much devotion. She is not perfect, I know, but none of us is +that; and I have never, never seen anything in her manner which would +lead me to suppose her to be the hypocrite, the ungrateful, heartless +creature you seem to imply she is." + +Listening to Chloe's words, watching the clear colour flood the marble +whiteness of her cheeks, Anstice was struck by the curious contrast +between this generous championship of a woman who had served her and her +utter indifference and lack of all protest when it was her own innocence +which was in question. In defence of her servant she spoke warmly, +vehemently, unwilling apparently, to allow even mere acquaintances to +look upon the woman as unworthy; yet she had rarely expressed in words +her own entire innocence of the disgraceful charge which had been made +against her; and had suffered the cruel injustice meted out to her +without allowing its iron to enter into her soul. + +And as he watched and listened Anstice told himself that there was +something of nobility in this reluctance to accept her own acquittal at +the cost of another's condemnation; yet his determination to see her +righted never wavered; and he answered her impassioned speech in a cool +and measured tone. + +"Mrs. Carstairs, I think you will agree with me that the person who was +capable of carrying out such a gigantic piece of deceit, carrying it +through to the extent of allowing an innocent person to be found guilty +for her offence, must be capable of a good deal more in the way of +hypocrisy. I don't say for certain that your maid has written these +letters; I don't yet know enough to convict her, or anyone else; but I +do say that if it were she who stood by and allowed you to suffer for +her wickedness, well, she is fully capable of living with you on terms +of apparently, the most respectful devotion--and hating you in her heart +all the while." + +"But why should she hate me?" Chloe's tone expressed an almost childish +wonder; and Sir Richard, who had been watching her uneasily, rose from +his seat and patted her shoulder reassuringly. + +"There, there, don't distress yourself, my dear!" His tone was fatherly. +"After all, we only want to clear up this mystery for your sake. I +daresay Anstice would be quite willing to let the matter drop if he +alone were concerned----" + +"Ah! I had forgotten that!" She turned to him with contrition in her +blue eyes. "Dr. Anstice, please forgive me! In my selfishness I was +quite forgetting that you were a victim of this unknown person's spite! +Of course the matter must be sifted to the very bottom; and if Tochatti +is indeed guilty she must be punished." + +"I think you are quite right, Chloe." Sir Richard spoke with unexpected +decision. "For all our sakes the matter must be cleared up. You see"--he +hesitated--"there are others to be considered besides ourselves." + +"My husband, for one," said Chloe unexpectedly. "I heard from him this +morning--he is back in England again now." + +"Mrs. Carstairs"--Anstice, feeling desperately uncomfortable, broke into +the conversation abruptly--"may I go upstairs and say good-night to +Cherry? You know I got into serious trouble for not going up the last +time I was here." + +She turned to him, smiling. + +"Of course you may, Dr. Anstice. I know Cherry would be heart-broken to +hear you had gone without seeing her. You know the way?" + +"Yes, thanks." He had grown familiar with the house during the weeks of +Cherry's illness. "I won't stay long--and I'll not wake her if she's +asleep." + +She was not asleep, however; and her face lighted with pleasure as +Anstice stole quietly in. + +"Oh, do come in, my dear!" She sat up in bed, a quaint little figure +with two thick brown plaits, tied with cherry-coloured ribbons, over her +shoulders. "I'm just about fed up with this stupid old bed!" + +She thumped her pillows resentfully; and Anstice, coming up, sat down +beside her, and beat up the offending pillows with the mock professional +touch which Cherry adored. + +"That better, eh?" + +"Rather!" She leaned back luxuriously. "Wasn't it a shame sending me to +bed to-day? And I hadn't really done nothing!" The intensity of the +speech called for the double negation. + +"Well, I don't know what you call nothing," returned Anstice, smiling. +"Apparently you'd given poor Tochatti a terrible fright----" + +"Serve her right," said Cherry placidly. "She shouldn't have been so +silly as to think any _real_ person was dead. She might have known all +the servants would have been howling on the doorstep _then_!" + +The tone in which she made this remarkable statement was too much for +Anstice's gravity; and he gave way to a fit of unrestrained laughter +which mightily offended his small friend. + +"I don't see anything to laugh at," she observed icily. "Seems to me +people being dead ought to make you cry 'stead of laugh." + +"Quite so, Cherry," returned Anstice, wiping his eyes ostentatiously. +"But you see in this case there wasn't anybody dead--at least, so I +understood from Mrs. Carstairs." + +"Yes, there was, then," returned Cherry, still unforgiving. "I'd gone +and killed my best-b'loved Lady Daimler"--christened from her mother's +car--"on purpose to make a pretty death-bed for Tochatti--and then she +simply flew into a temper--oh, a most _dreadful_ temper, my dear!" At +the thought of Tochatti's anger she forgave Anstice's lesser offence, +and took him once more into her favour. + +"That was too bad, especially as I'm sure Tochatti doesn't, often lose +her temper with you," said Anstice with some guile; and Cherry looked at +him gravely, without speaking. + +"Not with me," she announced presently. "But Tochatti gets awful cross +sometimes. She used to be fearful angry with Nurse Marg'ret. Where's +Nurse Marg'ret now, my dear?" + +"Don't know, Cherry. I suppose she is nursing someone else by this time. +Why do you want to know?" + +"'Cos I like Nurse Marg'ret," said Cherry seriously. "Tochatti didn't. +She made a wax dollie of her once, and she only does that when she +doesn't like peoples." + +"A wax dollie?" Anstice was honestly puzzled. "My dear child, what do +you mean?" + +"She did," said Cherry stoutly. "She maded an image like what they have +in their churches, because I saw her do it--out of a candle, and then +she got a great long pin and stuck it in the gas and runned it into the +little dollie." As Cherry grew excited her speech became slightly +unintelligible. "And I know it was Nurse Marg'ret 'cos she wrote a great +big 'M' on a bit of paper and pinned it on to show who it was meant +for." + +Her words made an instant and very unexpected impression on her hearer; +not alone as a revelation of Tochatti's mediaeval fashion of revenging +herself upon an unconscious rival--though this method of revenge was +amazing in the twentieth century--but as a strangely apt confirmation of +those doubts and suspicions which had been gathering round the Italian +woman in Anstice's mind during the last few days. + +If Cherry had spoken truly--and there was no reason to think the child +was lying--then Tochatti's supposed inability to write was an error; and +once that fact were proved it should not, surely, be difficult to +unravel the mystery which had already caused so much unhappiness. + +But first he must make sure. + +"Tell me, Cherry"--he spoke lightly--"how did you see all this? Surely +Tochatti didn't show you what she was doing?" + +"No." For a second Cherry looked abashed; then her spirit returned to +her and she spoke boldly. "It was one night when Nurse Marg'ret had +gone to bed--she was awful tired, and Tochatti said she'd sit up with +me ... and I was cross, 'cos I didn't want her, I wanted Nurse Marg'ret," +said Cherry honestly, "so I wouldn't speak to her, though she tried ever +so hard to make me, and she thought I'd gone to sleep, and I heard her +say something in 'talian.... I 'spect it was something naughty, 'cos she +sort of hissed it, like a nasty snake once did at me when I was a teeny +baby in Injia," said Cherry lucidly, "and then she looked up to be sure +I was asleep, so I shutted my eyes ever so tight, and then she made the +wax dollie and I watched her do it." Wicked Cherry chuckled gleefully at +the remembrance. + +"But the letter 'M'--how do you know she wrote that?" Anstice put the +question very quietly. + +"'Cos she couldn't find nothin' to write with, so she crept into Nurse +Marg'ret's room next through mine and came back with her pen--one of +those things what has little ink-bottles inside them," said Cherry, +referring, probably, to the nurse's beloved "Swan." "And I watched her +ever so close, 'cos I wanted to see what she was going to do, and she +wrote a big 'M' on a bit of paper and pinned it into the dollie----" + +"Into?" For a moment Anstice was puzzled. + +"Yes, 'cos you see the dollie was all soft and squeezy," explained +Cherry obligingly, "and it hadn't got no clothes on to pin it to, so it +had to go into the soft part of the dollie." + +"I see. But"--Anstice was still puzzled--"why do you say the dollie was +meant for Nurse Margaret? Mightn't it have been somebody else?" + +"No--'cos when Tochatti hates anyone she makes wax dollies end sticks +pins into them," returned Cherry calmly. "I know, 'cos she once told me +about a girl she knew what wanted somebody to die, and she did that and +the person died." + +"Oh, my dear little Cherry, what nonsense!" Anstice, whose mother had +been an Irishwoman, had heard of the superstition before, had even known +an old crone in a little Irish cabin high up in the mountains who had, +so it was said, practised the rite with success; but to hear the unholy +gospel from Cherry's innocent lips was distinctly distasteful; and +instinctively he tried to shake her faith in Tochatti's teaching. + +"'Tisn't nonsense--at least I don't think so," said Cherry, rather +dubiously. "Of course Nurse Marg'ret didn't die.... I don't think she +even got ill--but p'raps Tochatti didn't stick the pins in far 'nuff." + +"Well, I'm quite sure if she stuck in all the pins out of your +cherry-tree pincushion it wouldn't affect Nurse Margaret or anybody +else," said Anstice, putting his arm round her shoulders as he spoke. +"And you really mustn't get such silly notions into your head, Cherry +Ripe!" + +"That's what Iris used to call me," said Cherry, burrowing her head +contentedly into his neck. "I wish she was back, don't you, my dear? +Somehow things don't seem half such fun without Iris--I can't think what +she wanted to go and marry Uncle Bruce for, can you?" + +"There are many things I can't understand, little Cherry," said Anstice +with a smile whose sadness was hidden from the child. "But I agree with +you that it was much nicer when Iris"--he might venture here to use the +beloved little name--"was at home. But we can't always have the people +we like with us, can we?" + +"No--or I'd always have you, my dear," said Cherry with unexpected +though rather sleepy affection; and as Anstice, touched by the words, +kissed her upturned little face, her pretty brown eyes closed +irresistibly. + +"Good-night, Cherry! Pleasant dreams!" He laid her back deftly on her +pillows and the child was asleep almost before he had time to reach the +door. + +But as he went back to the drawing-room, eager to tell Mrs. Carstairs +and Sir Richard of the revelations so innocently made by Cherry, he +wondered whether at last the mystery were really within reach of a +solution. + +Cherry's story, although fragmentary and confused, was sufficiently +coherent to rank as evidence; and although he could hardly credit +Tochatti with a genuine belief in the old superstition of the wax image +he reminded himself she was half a Southerner; and that in some of the +mediaeval Italian towns and cities superstitions still thrive, in spite +of the teaching of the modern world. + +And if Cherry's story were true---- + +"Out of the mouths of babes"--he murmured to himself as he went down the +shallow oak stairs--"strange if, after all, the child should be the one +to clear up the whole mysterious affair! At any rate, we are a step +further on the way to elucidation; and from the bottom of my heart I +hope Mrs. Carstairs may be righted at last!" + +And with this aspiration on his lips he entered the drawing-room and +related the substance of his unexpectedly profitable interview with the +unsuspicious Cherry to an interested and enthralled audience of two. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +It did not take Anstice long to discover that the accusation against +him--an accusation all the more difficult to refute because of the +half-truth on which it was based--had been disseminated throughout +Littlefield with a thoroughness which implied a determination on the +part of the anonymous writer to leave no prominent resident in the +neighbourhood in ignorance of Anstice's supposed cowardice on that +bygone day in India. + +He could not help noticing as he went here and there on his daily +business that some of his patients looked askance at him, although they +did their best to hide their new and rather disconcerting interest in +him. So far as he knew, none of his patients forsook him for another and +less notorious doctor, but he was keenly alive to the altered manner of +some of those whom he attended, and although at present it was evident +that he was not yet condemned--after all, no fair-minded person condemns +another solely on the evidence of a tale-bearer who is ashamed to put +his name to the stories he relates--yet Anstice felt with a quick +galling of his pride that he was on probation, as it were, that those +with whom he came in contact were considering what verdict they should +pass upon him. And although his indifference to that verdict equalled +Mrs. Carstairs' former indifference to the opinion of these same +neighbours, his soul was seared with the thought that his unhappy +story--or rather a garbled version of it--was common property among +those men and women whom he had served faithfully to the best of his +ability during the eighteen months he had spent in Littlefield. + +On one thing he was fully determined. So soon as this mystery should be +solved--and he fancied a solution was no longer impossible--he would +leave the place, resign the position which had become tedious, +unbearably tedious in its cramped monotony, and seek some other place, +in England or abroad, where he might have leisure to pursue those +studies in research which had been so ruthlessly cut short by his own +most unhappy miscalculation. + +True, he no longer cared for fame. The possibility of some renown +crowning his toil no longer danced before his eyes with alluring +promises. The part of him which had craved success, recognition, the +youthful, vital part of him was dead, slain by the same bullet which had +ended poor Hilda Ryder's happy life; and although he was beginning to +look forward to a new and less cramped career than this which now +shackled him, the joyous, optimistic anticipation of youth was sadly +missing. + +It was impossible that once at work the old interest in his subject +might awake; but now he would work for the work's sake only, for the +sake of the distraction it might afford him; and though through all his +troubles he had preserved, at bottom, the quick humanity which had led +him to choose medicine as his career, he was thinking less now of his +old ambition to find a means of alleviation for one of the greatest ills +of mankind than of the zest which the renewed study of the subject might +restore to his own overshadowed life. + +Yet although he was determined to turn his back as soon as he decently +might on Littlefield and its people, with the perversity of mankind he +was equally determined to see them brought to confusion before he left +them--see them impelled to admit that in the case of Mrs. Carstairs they +had been unjust, prejudiced, and, most galling of all, misled; and the +question of his own vindication was only a secondary matter after all. + +One day he heard, casually, that Major Carstairs was expected at Cherry +Orchard, and when he entered his house at lunch-time he found a note +from Chloe asking him to call upon her between tea and dinner and +remain, if possible, for the latter meal. In any case she asked him to +come for half an hour, at least, and he rang her up at once and fixed +six o'clock for the time of his call upon her. + +At six accordingly he entered the drawing-room, and found Major +Carstairs in possession, as it were, standing on the hearth-rug with the +air of a man at home in his own house. Before Anstice had time to wonder +how this situation had arisen Chloe advanced, smiling, and held out her +hand. + +"Good-evening, Dr. Anstice. I think you and my husband have met +already." + +In these words she announced her cognizance of that meeting in +Piccadilly a few days earlier, and Anstice acknowledged the supposition +to be correct, relieved to see by her smile that she did not grudge his +former secrecy. + +"Yes, by Jove! Dr. Anstice came to the rescue or I'd have had a nasty +fall on the pavement," said Major Carstairs genially. "And by the way, I +declare I'm quite jealous of your supremacy with Cherry! She does +nothing but talk of you, and I hear she infinitely prefers your car to +her mother's!" + +"Yes, Cherry and I are very good friends," said Anstice with a smile. +"We had a slight difference last week because I wouldn't allow her to +drive that same car; but Cherry is always amenable to reason, and when I +pointed out to her that she had no licence, and might possibly be +reported by some interfering police-constable and get us both into +trouble she gave in like a lamb. By the way, Mrs. Carstairs, where is +she to-night? Not in disgrace again, I hope?" + +"No, she's as good as gold to-day because she is to sit up to dinner +to-night," said Chloe, smiling--Anstice thought her smiles came more +readily than usual this evening. "I believe she is making an elaborate +toilette upstairs just now; and I admit I was glad to have her occupied, +for I wanted, if you and my husband agree, to talk over the matters of +the letters--and Tochatti." + +For a second Anstice felt uncomfortable, but Major Carstairs probably +noted his discomfort, for he turned to him with a sincerity there was no +doubting. + +"Look here, Dr. Anstice, you have been--luckily for us, if I may say +so--mixed up in this most unsavoury affair, and from what my wife tells +me I believe you are going to be the means of clearing it up--a +consummation most devoutly to be wished." + +Anstice's embarrassment vanished before the soldier's frankness. + +"I only hope you may be right, Major Carstairs," he said, looking the +other man squarely in the face. "Personally, since I intended to leave +Littlefield before long in any case, these wretched slanders don't +affect me much. The few friends I have made in this place are not likely +to give credence to the rumour which has been spread broadcast in the +last week or two--and for the rest----" + +"I understand your indifference to the opinion of 'the rest,'" said +Major Carstairs, smiling, "but I think it will be more satisfactory for +all of us when the affair is really cleared up. But won't you sit down? +Chloe tells me it is too late for tea--but you'll have a peg?" + +"Not for me, thanks." Anstice was too intent on the matter in hand to +turn to side issues. "If you don't mind giving me your opinion on the +subject--do you think it possible that the woman Tochatti is the one to +blame?" + +"Well----" Major Carstairs sat down as he spoke, and since Chloe had +already taken her accustomed seat in a corner of the big couch, Anstice +followed their joint example. "Personally I have never been able to +conquer a dislike, which I always put down as absolutely unjust and +uncharitable, for the woman. I know she has served my wife faithfully, +and her devotion to our little daughter has been beyond praise. But"--he +smiled rather deprecatingly--"even ten years in India haven't +apparently cured me of British insularity, and I have never liked +foreigners--especially half-breeds such as Tochatti, Italian on one +side, English on the other." + +"Then you think it possible, at least, that she may be the culprit?" + +"I do, quite possible. And I thank God from the bottom of my heart for +the bare possibility," returned Major Carstairs deliberately, and his +words and manner both served to assure Anstice that at last this man had +been brought to believe, wholeheartedly, in his wife's innocence. + +Anstice never knew, either then or afterwards, exactly how the miracle +had come about. Indeed, so subtle are the workings of a man's heart, so +complex and incomprehensible the thoughts and motives which touch a soul +to finer issues, that it is quite possible Major Carstairs himself could +not have told how or when he first began to realize that his judgment +might well be at fault, that his own stern honesty and unflinching +integrity, which would not permit him to subscribe outwardly to a belief +which inwardly he did not hold, might after all have been +stumbling-blocks in the way of true understanding rather than the +righteous bulwarks which he had fancied them. + +Probably the conviction that he had misjudged his wife had been stealing +imperceptibly into Major Carstairs' mind during many lonely days spent +on the Indian Frontier; and though he could never have stated with any +degree of certainty the exact moment in which he understood, at last, +that his wife, the woman he had married, the mother of his child, was +incapable of the action which a censorious and unkind world had been +ready to attribute to her, when once that conviction entered his honest, +logical, if somewhat stubborn mind, it had found a home there for ever. + +His chance meeting with Anstice, whose belief in Mrs. Carstairs was too +genuine to be doubted for an instant, had come at an opportune moment, +setting, as it were, the seal on his own changed judgment; and being +essentially a man of honour, upright and just to a fault, he deemed it +not only a duty but a privilege to come directly to his wife, and while +asking her pardon for his unjustifiable suspicions, assure her of his +firm determination to see her innocence made manifest before all the +world. + + * * * * * + +Something of this Anstice guessed as he watched the interchange of +glances between husband and wife on this bitter November evening, and he +told himself that few women would have accepted their husband's tardy +reparation as this woman had done. It did not need a magician to know +that husband and wife were truly reunited, and though some might have +been inclined to label Chloe Carstairs poor-spirited in that she had +apparently forgiven her husband's mistrust so easily, Anstice told +himself that Chloe was a woman in a thousand, that this very forgiveness +and lack of any natural resentment showed the unalloyed fineness, the +pure gold of her character, as nothing else could have done. + + * * * * * + +It was Chloe who broke the silence which followed Major Carstairs' last +words, and as he looked at her Anstice was struck suddenly by the change +in her appearance this evening. Where she had hitherto been cold, +impassive, indifferent, now she was warm, glowing, responsive. In her +pale cheeks was a most unusual wild-rose colour and her blue, +almond-shaped eyes held a light which made them look like two beautiful +sapphires shining in the sun. + +When she spoke her rich, deep voice lost its undertone of melancholy, +and rang joyously, with the soft beauty of a 'cello's lower notes. + +"You see, Dr. Anstice, your faith in me--for which I have never +attempted to thank you--is at last within measure of being justified!" +She smiled happily. "And although Tochatti has served me faithfully she +cannot be allowed to go on with this thing--if she be the one +responsible. The question is, How is it to be brought home to her?" + +Thus encouraged Anstice again outlined the plan he had formerly +suggested--that a watch should be set during the night; but, as he had +half expected, Chloe did not give it her unqualified approval. + +"No, Dr. Anstice." She spoke too gently to cause him offence. "I don't +think, honestly, I like the idea. Can't I speak openly, ask her quite +plainly why she has done this thing--what perverted notion of--well, +resentment she has against me which would lead her to act in this +manner?" + +To Anstice's relief Major Carstairs vetoed this plan, unhesitatingly. + +"No, Chloe, that is an absolutely impossible suggestion! As Dr. Anstice +says, guile must be met with guile, and the only way to catch this woman +is to take her absolutely red-handed. And if, as you seem to think, she +is likely to creep down in the night--well, it could do no harm to set a +watch." + +"There is one reason against that delightfully simple plan of yours," +objected Chloe. "Tochatti would not be likely to write any more of these +letters with you in the house, Leo. You see, it would be very serious +for her if _you_ encountered her at my writing-table in the night!" + +Before Carstairs could reply Anstice spoke rather diffidently. + +"I have just one suggestion to make, Major Carstairs. Am I right in +supposing you are staying down here to-night?" + +A fleeting embarrassment was visible on the faces of both Major +Carstairs and his wife; but the former answered resolutely: + +"Yes. I am certainly hoping to stay here." + +"Well, if I might just make a suggestion, why not give out that you are +returning to town to-night and coming down to stay to-morrow or the next +day? Tochatti would probably, thinking this her last opportunity, make +haste to seize it and write another letter or two--possibly the +last--to-night." + +"You mean give out that I am returning to town to-night; start, in fact, +in reality, and come back later, when the house is quiet?" + +"Yes," said Anstice, wondering what the soldier thought of his amateur +strategy. "Then you--and anyone else you choose--could sit up here and +wait events." + +"I admire the simplicity of your plan, Dr. Anstice," returned Carstairs +with an irrepressible laugh. "I've been called upon to exercise +diplomacy at times myself, but I don't think I ever hit on anything more +telling in the way of a plan than this charmingly simple one of yours!" + +"You approve of it, then?" Anstice was in no wise offended by the +other's mirth. + +"Highly--it's just the plan to appeal to me," said Carstairs, still +smiling infectiously; and Chloe rose from her couch and coming to his +chair seated herself on the arm and rested her hand on his shoulder. + +"I know why the plan appeals to you, Leo! It recalls your schoolboy +days, when you pretended to go to bed and then stole out to skate by +moonlight!" + +"Hush, hush, Chloe! Never tell tales out of school," commanded the Major +in mock alarm; but Anstice noticed how the man's brown fingers closed +round his wife's hand, and suddenly he felt as though this spectacle of +their reunion was too tantalizing to be pleasant to a sore heart like +his own. + +He rose rather abruptly, and both the others looked at him with a little +surprise. + +"You're not going, Anstice? Surely you'll stay to dinner? My little +daughter will be sorely disappointed if you run away now!" + +"Do stay, Dr. Anstice!" Chloe rose too, and her eyes, like two beautiful +blue jewels, shone kindly into his. "Our scheme will have to be +discussed further, won't it? We mustn't take the field with an +ill-prepared plan, must we, Leo?" + +"Indeed we must not," returned her husband quickly. "Especially as I was +going to ask a very big favour of you. Dr. Anstice! Seeing how more than +good you have been in interesting yourself in this affair, I have been +wondering whether you wouldn't conceivably like to be in at the death, +so to speak. In plain words, I was going to ask you if you would care to +be my fellow-conspirator in this nefarious plot we have hatched between +us!" + +"You mean--will I sit up with you to-night?" Anstice spoke eagerly, and +Chloe smiled. + +"Well, you're not annoyed by the suggestion, anyway! I needn't say I +should appreciate your company--though after all, it is a big thing to +ask a man of your calling to sacrifice the rest he must need pretty +badly!" He spoke rather dubiously. + +"Oh, not a bit of it, Major Carstairs!" Anstice's eyes brightened at the +thought of the adventure. "In a matter of this kind two witnesses are +better than one; and there is always a chance that even a woman may turn +nasty when she finds herself cornered--especially one who is half a +foreigner," he added with a smile. + +"Then you'll come? It's awfully good of you----" + +"Not at all, sir. You forget I'm an interested party," said Anstice +quickly. "It is as much to my interest to clear the matter up as to +yours, now. Well, what about details? Where--and how--shall we meet, and +how do we get into the house without anyone knowing?" + +"Ah, yes. That requires thought." + +Major Carstairs rubbed his hands together gaily, and Chloe burst out +laughing. + +"You two are nothing but schoolboys," she said joyously. "I believe you +are both looking forward to this midnight adventure! You'd be quite +disappointed if there were no need for your masterly plot after all!" + +Anstice and Major Carstairs looked rather shamefacedly at one another; +but Chloe was merciful and restrained further mockery for the time. + +"Well, now I will make my suggestion," she said. "Leave the house in the +usual way, by the front door; and come back, at whatever hour you agree +upon, to the window here. I will let you in myself, and not a soul need +know you have re-entered the house." + +"Very well," Carstairs nodded. "One suggestion though. Leave the window +open--no one will see behind those curtains, and go to bed as usual +yourself. Depend upon it, if Tochatti is really the culprit, she will +take all means of satisfying herself that you are safely in bed before +she begins her work, and it would not do for her to find your room empty +at midnight." + +Chloe paled a little, and when she spoke her voice was uneasy. + +"Leo, do you really think Tochatti is so--so malicious? I can't bear to +think of her being with Cherry--she is with her almost night and day, +you know--if she is so dreadful, so dangerous a character----" + +"You need not be afraid, Mrs. Carstairs." It was Anstice who spoke, +reassuringly. "The little one is quite safe with her, I am sure of that. +If it really does turn out that Tochatti has been to blame, I feel +convinced that we shall find she is not altogether responsible for her +actions----" + +"But that's worse still!" Chloe's voice was really alarmed. "If she is +mad--a lunatic----" + +"I did not mean quite that," said Anstice. "I meant--well, it is rather +a difficult subject to enter into at a moment's notice; but--have you +ever heard of a dual personality?" + +"A dual personality?" She repeated the words, her white brow wrinkling +with the effort of concentration. "I think I know what you mean--a +person with two sides to his character, so to speak--of which first one +is in the ascendant and then the other?" + +"Kind of Jekyll and Hyde business, what?" Major Carstairs knew his +Stevenson, and Anstice nodded. + +"Well, something like that, though not so pronounced. There really are +such people, you know--it is not only a fantastic tale that a man may +lead a kind of double life, speaking in a spiritual and not a physical +sense. You don't call such people lunatics, nor are they, save in +extreme cases, criminals. But it is quite possible for a woman like +Tochatti to devote one half of herself to your service--and serve you +admirably!--and lead what seems in all respects an open and above-board +existence; and yet, through some kink in her character, stoop to an +action one would expect to find only in a woman of a thoroughly debased +nature." + +He paused, but neither of his hearers spoke. + +"It is as if a lower spirit entered into these people at times, driving +them to do things which in a normal state they would be quite incapable +of doing. You know the old Biblical theory of possession? Well, the same +thing, under another name, is to be met with to-day; and for my part, +when I come across the case of a person whose present behaviour +contradicts all the actions of his previous life, upsets all the data, +so to speak, which I have been able to gather of his conduct in the +past, well, I put it down, mentally, to that peculiar theory of +'possession' with which the Easterns in the time of Christ were +apparently perfectly familiar." + +"As they are to-day," said Major Carstairs unexpectedly; and Anstice +looked gratified at the corroboration. "It is a strange theory, I own, +but after what I have seen in India I confess I find it perfectly +feasible." + +"And you think my poor Tochatti may be a victim to this old form of +demonism?" Chloe addressed the question to Anstice, and he answered it +after a momentary hesitation. + +"Well, it is too soon to make any sweeping statement of that kind, Mrs. +Carstairs, but I must acknowledge it is hard to reconcile the woman's +general behaviour with an action of this kind without some such theory. +However"--he glanced at the clock--"if you will excuse me I must really +get home. There will be all sorts of complaints from my surgery patients +if they are kept waiting!" + +"One moment, Anstice! I take it you will come back to-night? Though +really it is a jolly big thing to ask...." Major Carstairs tone was +apologetic. + +"Of course, and we must settle where we meet. But first, shouldn't we +let Tochatti know that you are not staying here to-night?" + +"Why, yes." Chloe moved towards the boll. "I'll send for Cherry--that +will bring Tochatti--and you can allude to your departure then." + +Three minutes later Tochatti appeared, in charge of the excited Cherry, +who flew at Anstice, and, quite regardless of her immaculately frilled +muslin dress, flung herself into his arms and kissed him +demonstratively. + +"Oh, my dear, what _ages_ since I've seen you!" Her tone was a faithful +copy of the parlourmaid's greeting to a recent visitor to the kitchen. +"Are you going to stay to dinner? I do hope so, 'cos I'm going to sit up +and there's lovely things--lots of roasted pheasants and meringues all +filled with squelchy cream!" + +"Alas, Cherry, I can't stop!" Anstice's comically regretful tone made +Chloe smile. "I shall have to go home and see my patients. And if I get +a chop----" + +"_And_ a chipped potato, my dear," prompted Cherry. + +"_And_ a chipped potato," concurred Anstice obediently, "I shall think +myself lucky! But I wish you hadn't told me there were to be lots of +pheasants!" + +"They're for Daddy, speshully," said Cherry, "'cos he's got sick of +chickens in Injia--but I like the bready sauce and the little brown +crumbs best!" + +"And that reminds me," said Major Carstairs, looking at his watch rather +ostentatiously, "I should be glad if you could put forward dinner a +little, Chloe. I must catch the nine-thirty to town." + +"Oh, Daddy, you're not going to-night!" Cherry forsook Anstice for the +moment and clambered on to her father's knee. "You said you were going +to stop and you'd come and tell me stories in bed!" + +"I did, and I don't like breaking my word to a lady," said Major +Carstairs seriously, "but I really must go back to town to-night, and +I'll come down to-morrow or the next day, and stay a long, long time!" + +"You might tell Hagyard Major Carstairs will not be staying to-night, +Tochatti," said Chloe, turning to the woman, and Anstice's quick eyes +caught the look of relief compounded with something like surprise which +flashed across Tochatti's swarthy countenance. + +"_Bene, Signora._" With a strange look at Anstice, a look which did not +escape the notice of the person at whom it was levelled, Tochatti +withdrew, and since further conversation was impossible in Cherry's +presence, Anstice made his farewells and went out to the car, escorted +by his host, who seized the opportunity to fix the details of the +evening's later meeting. + +"You will leave the house about a quarter to nine, I suppose?" asked +Anstice. "Well, look here, why not come round to my place to fill in the +time until we can go back? We shall be alone, and unless I'm called +out--which I trust won't happen--we can have a quiet chat and a smoke." + +"Right. I'll be at your place about nine, and if you're busy I can read +the paper, you know. Till then, _au revoir_!" + +Anstice nodded and mounted to the steering seat, and Major Carstairs +went back into the house, wondering why the younger man's face wore so +sad an expression in repose. + +"Of course that Indian affair was rather a facer, but the story's some +years old by now and one would think he'd have got over it. As decent a +fellow as I've ever met. But he seems altogether too old for his age, +and even when he smiles or jokes with the child he doesn't look happy. I +wonder if Chloe knows any reason for his melancholy air?" + +And with the question still uppermost in his mind he went back to the +drawing-room in search of his wife and child. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +It was very dark in the window-recess, shut off from the room by the +heavy blue curtains which fell to the floor in thick folds. The room +itself was not in complete darkness, for the fire, built up by Chloe +with assumed extravagance before she went to bed, had burned down to a +steady red glow, now and then illumined by a dancing gleam of light as a +tiny flame of gas sputtered from some specially charged coal; and as +Anstice peeped cautiously through a carefully arranged chink in the +curtains he could see the pretty room with fair distinctness. The chairs +were standing about with the peculiarly uncanny effect known to all who +enter a room after it has been finally deserted for the night--an effect +as of waiting for some ghostly visitors to fill their pathetic emptiness +and hold high revel or stately converse in the place lately peopled by +mere human beings. + +On a little table by the fire stood a chess-board, the old carved red +and white pieces standing on it in jumbled disarray; for Chloe and her +husband, both inveterate chess-lovers, had begun a game which they were +unable, through lack of time, to finish; and as his eyes fell on the +board Anstice had a queer fancy that if he and Major Carstairs +were not present two ghostly chess-players would issue softly from +the shadows and rearrange the pieces for another and perhaps more +strenuously-contested duel. + +As the fantastic thought crossed his mind Anstice sat up decisively, +telling himself he was growing imaginative; and Major Carstairs turned +to him with a whispered word. + +"Getting fidgety, eh? I know the feeling--used to get it when I was +sitting in a straw hut in the marshes waiting for the duck to +appear----" + +He broke off suddenly; for a sound had shattered the silence; but though +he and Anstice pulled themselves together in readiness for anything +which might happen, both realized at the same moment that it was only +the whirr of the grandfather clock which always prefaced the striking of +the hour; and in another second the hour itself struck, with one deep, +sonorous note which reverberated through the quiet room. + +"One o'clock, and no result," Major Carstairs stretched himself +cautiously. "How long is the sitting to continue, eh? It's all right for +me, but I'm afraid if you have a heavy day's work in prospect----" + +"Oh, I don't mind," said Anstice indifferently. "I'm used to having my +sleep cut short--one's patients seem to think one can exist quite +comfortably without it, though they make a tremendous fuss if they lose +a night's sleep for any reason!" + +"Well, if nothing happens shortly--and I'm inclined to think nothing +will----" began Major Carstairs, but he got no further, for with the +extraordinary aptness of conjunction which we are wont to call +coincidence, though another word might more fitly be employed, the door +opened almost noiselessly and a hooded figure crept on soundless feet +into the room. + +Anstice and his companion fairly held their breath as the shrouded form +glided softly forward, the light of the dying fire doing little, now, to +illumine the scene; and neither of the men could have sworn with any +certainty to the identity of the person who shared their occupation of +the silent room. + +In the middle of the floor the figure halted suddenly; and for one wild +moment Anstice fancied that some sixth sense had warned the new-comer of +their presence; but realizing the danger of attracting that new-comer's +thought towards him by any intensity of his own mind--for one thought +will draw another as a magnet the steel--Anstice switched off the +current of his thoughts, so to speak, and waited with as blank a mind as +he could compass for the thing which must surely happen soon. + +After that involuntary halt the figure moved slowly forward in the +direction of the writing-table; and Anstice would have given a great +deal to have been able to see the face of this midnight scribe; but as +yet the firelit gloom remained undisturbed; and it was impossible to do +more than hazard a guess as to this strange visitor's personality. + +There were candles on the writing-table, and for a moment Anstice +fancied that the mysterious figure would seek their aid to carry through +the task confronting her--he was convinced it was a woman who sat at the +table--but he was wrong, for no match was struck, no candle-flame +lighted the soft dusk. Instead a small beam of light shot suddenly +across the table; and Anstice and Major Carstairs both grasped at the +same moment the significance of the ray. + +It was a pocket electric torch, of a kind familiar to thousands +nowadays, whose aid the letter-writer had evoked; and since this +particular one was fitted with a bulb which enabled it to cast a +continuous light without finger-pressure, it was quite effective for the +purpose to which it was now being put. + +Having placed the torch on the table in such a position that the ray of +light fell directly across the blotting-pad, the figure made search for +a sheet of paper which suited its mind; and after a moment, a sheet +having been chosen, a pen was selected, dipped into Chloe's own silver +inkstand and a few lines of writing inscribed slowly, and with many +pauses, upon the otherwise unsullied paper. + +His heart throbbing wildly, with an excitement quite foreign to his +nature, Anstice watched the performance eagerly through the just-parted +curtains; and so sure was he now of the identity of his quarry that he +was ready to leap from his hiding-place and confront the anonymous +letter-writer without further loss of time, had not a gentle pressure on +his arm restrained him at the critical moment. + +It was not safe to speak, since even a whisper might betray their +presence; but Anstice realized Major Carstairs' intention and held +himself in check, though he quivered like a greyhound straining at the +leash, who fears his quarry may escape him if he be not slipped +forthwith. + +After what seemed like an hour, but was probably five minutes, the +letter, whatever its nature, was judged complete; and with the same +stealthy but unhurried movements the writer sought and obtained an +envelope from the many which lay ready to hand and slipped the missive +in with deft fingers. An address added, the abominable thing was +complete; and having quietly put everything in order, so that even the +most acute eyes could discover nothing amiss, the writer rose softly +from the chair, and taking up the electric torch extinguished its beam +preparatory to making her exit from the room, which was now in almost +complete darkness. + +This was the moment for which Major Carstairs had been waiting. + +With a whispered word in Anstice's ear: "The light--quick!" he dashed +aside the curtains and darted out into the room, while Anstice, hastily +obeying orders, rushed to the wall and turned on the electric switch to +such good purpose that the room sprang instantly into brilliant light. + +There was a scream from the hooded figure in the middle of the floor--a +scream of mingled anger, defiance and terror which rang in Anstice's +ears for hours afterwards, and following the scream a mad, wild rush for +the door--a blundering, stumbling rush in which the very garment, the +long, loose cloak which was intended for a disguise, proved itself a +handicap and effectually prevented its wearer making good her escape. By +the time she had torn herself free of the encumbering folds which +threatened to trip her up at every step Anstice had reached the door; +and now he stood before it with something in his face which warned the +panting creature in front of him that the way of escape was effectually +barred. + +Still hiding her face in the folds of her garment she turned round as +though to rush towards the window and seek egress thereby; but facing +her stood Major Carstairs, and the wretched culprit realized, too late, +that she was trapped. + +Yet as a cornered hare will turn and give battle, desperately, to her +eager foes, the woman made a frantic rush as though to pass the avenging +figure which stood in her path; and as she did so Major Carstairs moved +forward and plucked the black hood with no gentle hand from the face it +had so far partially concealed. + +And as with wildly beating pulses Anstice bent forward to catch a +glimpse of the mysterious visitor he knew that his surmise, unlikely as +it had seemed, had been correct; that by a stroke of luck the expert, +Clive, had been able to point unerringly to the clue which was to solve +the mystery of those vile letters and restore to an innocent woman the +fair name which had been so unjustly smirched. + +For the hooded figure was none other than Tochatti. + + * * * * * + +"My God! Then it _was_ you!" Major Carstairs' tone was so full of +disgust, of loathing, of the just indignation of a righteously angry man +that even Tochatti cowered in his grip; and as Anstice came forward the +other man turned to him with an expression of wrath which quite +transfigured his face. "Look at her, Anstice, the miserable, degraded +creature! To think that she has been with my wife all these +years--hanging over Cherry night and day--and all the time plotting this +infamous thing ... by the way, where is that letter?" + +He broke off suddenly and Anstice came a step nearer the two. + +"I see it, sir!" He had caught sight of it in the woman's clenched hand, +and with a smart and unexpected blow on her wrist forced her fingers to +open and release that which they held. "Here it is--will you take it? I +can look after her all right." + +"No--but just see what the address is, will you?" Major Carstairs had +regained his self-control, and now stood quiet, alert, cool, as though +on parade. "May as well know who was her chosen victim this time." + +"Oh, my old friend Carey--you know, the Vicar of Littlefield." Anstice +tossed the envelope on to a chair out of reach. "He was the first one +honoured, I believe, and possibly was to have been the last!" + +All this time the woman had stood silent, her black eyes snapping, her +breast heaving stormily. Now she turned on Anstice fiercely and poured +out a stream of vituperative Italian which conveyed little or nothing to +his mind. Seeing that she made no impression she redoubled her efforts, +and finally her voice rose to a scream. + +"I say, better shut her up, sir, or Mrs. Carstairs will hear!" Anstice +glanced anxiously towards the door and Major Carstairs nodded. + +"Yes. We don't want the whole house about our ears." He turned to the +woman who now stood sullenly silent in his grasp; though if looks could +kill there would certainly have been a practice for sale in Littlefield +on the morrow. "Now see here, Tochatti, you've been fairly +cornered--caught--and you will have to pay the penalty. In the meantime +I shall lock you in your room until the morning, and I warn you it is +useless trying to escape." + +A noise in the doorway cut him short; and turning hastily round Anstice +beheld Chloe Carstairs standing there, the light of the candle she +carried casting queer flickering shadows across her pale face, in which +the blue eyes gleamed more brightly than ever before. + +"Chloe!" In his surprise Major Carstairs released the woman; and with a +bound she was across the room, pouring out another wild flood of +protestations, in which the words "_il dottore_" and "_la bambina_" +occurred over and over again. Higher and higher rose her voice, more +shrill and hysterical her outpourings, and Anstice's professional +instinct warned him that such abnormal excitement must end in +disaster--though of the nature of that ending he had at the moment no +conception. + +Seeing, however, that the woman, while exhausting herself, was also +distressing her mistress, he moved forward with the intention of warning +Tochatti she was endangering her own health; but his word of caution was +never uttered, for as he approached her she spun round with a last +fierce torrent of words, and, stooping down, with incredible swiftness +plucked a sharp dagger from some secret hiding-place, and lunged at +Anstice with all her maddened might. + +Luckily for him her excitement impeded her aim; and while she doubtless +intended stabbing him to the heart she merely inflicted a flesh wound on +the upper part of the arm which he had raised to defend himself. + +The next moment Chloe, with a quite unlooked-for strength, had wrested +the weapon from the woman's grasp; and then ensued a scene which even +Anstice could hardly bear to look back upon in after days. + +Whether or no his theory of possession were justified, the woman was for +the time being beside herself. Seeing the dagger in Chloe's hand she +threw herself upon her mistress and struggled wildly to regain her +property, inflicting a series of cuts on her own hand before Chloe could +get free to hurl the deadly thing into a corner of the room; and even +when Anstice and Carstairs had overpowered her with their superior might +she fought for freedom like a mad woman. But this abnormal strength +could not continue. Suddenly, as Anstice had foreseen, the inevitable +collapse occurred. Nature could stand no more, and with a last wild +writhe the woman slipped through the hands which held her, and uttering +a sharp cry fell to the floor in a state of unconsciousness. + + * * * * * + +Half an hour later Anstice came downstairs and re-entered the room where +Major Carstairs sat alone over the now brightly burning fire. + +"Well!" The soldier's voice was anxious. "How is the woman? Oh, and what +about your arm? Was it badly hurt?" + +"No--only a very slight flesh wound, and Mrs. Carstairs has kindly bound +it up for me." He relinquished the subject of his own injury abruptly. +"The woman is asleep now--she grew excited again, so I've given her some +bromide, and she will be quiet enough for the rest of the night." + +"My wife is with her?" + +"Yes. Mrs. Carstairs insists on staying there for the present." + +Anstice took a cigarette from the case his host held out, and Major +Carstairs made a gesture towards the tantalus on the table. + +"Have a peg--I'm sure you want it!" + +"Well, I think I do," returned Anstice with a smile. "We had rather a +tough time of it upstairs just now." He mixed himself a drink as he +spoke. "Once a Southerner lets herself go the result is apt to be +disastrous." + +"Will she be quieter in the morning?" + +"I expect so." He stood by the mantelpiece, glass in hand; and in spite +of his evident fatigue it was easy to see he was quietly jubilant over +the events of the night. "The Latin races have a peculiar elasticity, +you know. An Englishwoman who had passed through this sort of violent +brain-storm would be absolutely exhausted, worn out for days after it; +but an Italian doesn't seem to feel things in the same way. They are so +naturally excitable, I suppose, that a scene like this is merely an +episode in the day's work; and they recover their mental poise much more +rapidly than persons of a more phlegmatic temperament would be likely to +do." + +"Then you think she may be--more or less--normal in the morning?" + +"I daresay--a bit dazed, perhaps, but I don't think you need fear a +repetition of to-night's scene. Of course she ought not to be left +alone--in case she tries to scoot; but if you are staying in the +house----" He paused interrogatively. + +"I am staying," returned Major Carstairs quietly. "Thanks to you the +cloud has lifted from our home; and since my wife is generous enough to +forgive me for my unwarrantable doubt of her----" + +He broke off, for Anstice was moving forward with outstretched hand; and +he guessed that the younger man was rendered uncomfortable by the turn +the conversation had taken. + +"You're going?" He wrung Anstice's hand with fervent gratitude. "Well, +it's late, of course--but won't you stay here for the rest of the night? +We can give you a bed in five minutes, and I'm sure my wife will be +distressed if you turn out now." + +"Thanks very much, but I must go." The decision in his tone was +unmistakable. + +"Well, I'll get out the car and run you over----" + +"No, thanks. I'd really rather walk." He picked up hat and coat from the +window-seat and turned to the door with an air of finality. "It's a fine +night and I shall enjoy it. I'll be round early in the morning--but I +don't think Tochatti will give you any trouble for a good many hours +yet." + +"As soon as she is able to explain matters there will be a good deal to +be done," said Major Carstairs rather grimly, as they went through the +hall together. "Thank God, we have that last letter as a proof of her +duplicity, and by its aid we can doubtless get a full confession out of +her." + +"Yes." Anstice paused a second on the doorstep before plunging into the +darkness of the night. "It will be interesting to hear the whole story. +The events are plain enough--but the question of motive is still a +puzzling one." + +"Quite so. And yet the affair will probably turn out simple, after all. +Well, I mustn't keep you if you want to be off. Good night +again--and"--the sincerity in his voice was pleasant to hear--"a +thousand thanks for the part you have played in the unravelling of this +tangle." + +"Good-night. Don't let Mrs. Carstairs exhaust herself looking after the +woman, will you? She is splendid, I know, but----" + +"I'll go and join her in a moment," returned Carstairs quietly. "I'm an +old campaigner, you know, and I'll see to it that she is properly +fortified for the vigil--if she insists upon it." + +And as he looked into the soldier's square-featured face, the honest +eyes agleam with love for the woman he had been fool enough to doubt, +Anstice felt instinctively that Chloe Carstairs' ship had come at last +to a safe anchorage, that the barque which had so narrowly escaped +complete shipwreck on the rock of a terrible catastrophe was now safely +at rest in the haven where it would be. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +"Well, Chloe, you have discovered the truth at last?" + +It was evening again--early evening this time; and Major Carstairs and +Anstice were sitting in Chloe's black-and-white room eagerly waiting for +the promised elucidation of the mystery which had so nearly ruined two +lives. + +Chloe herself, sitting in a corner of the chintz-covered couch, looked, +in spite of the strenuous hours through which she had passed, the +embodiment of youth and radiant happiness. + +In all his life Anstice had never seen so striking a testimony to the +power of soul over body as in this rejuvenation, this new birth, as it +were, which had taken place under his eyes. + +The whole woman was transformed. The classic features had lost their +slight austerity of outline, the sapphire-blue eyes were no longer cold +and indifferent, but danced bewitchingly in the softly-tinted face. The +lips whose corners had been prone to droop were now curved into the +tenderest, gayest smiles; and as Anstice looked at her he was reminded +of the old story of the marble statue, whose frozen rigidity was warmed +into life by the magic of the sculptor's kiss. + +And as he gazed, secretly, on this miracle which had been performed +before his eyes Anstice realized a truth which hitherto he had not +suspected. Although her manner in speaking of her husband had never held +the faintest tinge of resentment, nor the least hint of rancour, neither +had it betrayed any touch of a warmer feeling than a half-compassionate +friendliness; and Anstice had never suspected the world of feeling which +apparently lay locked in her heart. He had thought her cold, +self-contained, genuinely cynical. He saw her now, impulsive, gay, +radiant; and he knew to what this striking, this indescribably happy +change was due. + +Chloe Carstairs was in love, overwhelmingly, irresistibly in love with +her husband; and now Anstice was able to gauge something of the +bitterness of the life she had led for the last few months. Where he had +thought her cold she had been indeed suffering. Her assumed cynicism, +her weary indifference had been the cloak of a sharp and almost hopeless +misery; and at the thought of her heroic acceptance of her husband's +unbelief, an unbelief which must have been almost unbearably galling, +Anstice paid her in his heart a higher tribute than he had hitherto +bestowed on any woman. + +That the cloud of which Major Carstairs had spoken had indeed lifted was +evident in the glances which passed shyly between the two; and as Chloe +answered her husband's eager question her blue eyes rested almost +tenderly on his face. + +"Yes. I think the truth has come to light at last." + +"You mean the woman has confessed?" It was Anstice who spoke, and she +turned to him at once with an animation of look and manner very +different from her former languor. + +"Well, as to confession I hardly know. But she has told me the whole +story; and if you are both prepared to listen I will pass it on to you +at once." + +Sitting a little forward, her hands locked on the knee of her white +gown, her blue eyes extraordinarily vivid in her softly-coloured face, +she began her tale; and both men listened to her with rapt attention as +her deep voice rang through the quiet room. + +"It seems that years ago when Tochatti was a girl, living in a village +close to Naples, she was betrothed to a handsome young Sicilian, a +fisherman from Palermo. The story, as Tochatti told it, is a long and +rather involved affair; but it is sufficient to say that there was +another girl enamoured of Tochatti's lover; and matters were complicated +still further by the fact that this girl was engaged to someone else. +Well, Luigi, Tochatti's sweetheart, had evidently encouraged the second +girl behind Tochatti's back; and when Tochatti found out she was so +inflamed with rage and jealousy that, overhearing of an appointment +between Bella and Luigi, she wrote a note in a handwriting roughly +resembling that of Bella to the latter's sweetheart, a certain Jose, +bidding him meet her at the same time and place as that arranged by the +other two. Well, Jose went, expecting to meet his beloved--and found her +in Luigi's arms. Tragedy followed, of course. Jose first tore the girl +away and then stabbed her to the heart, afterwards turning on Luigi. +They struggled--on the edge of the cliff; and Luigi proving the +stronger, Jose was hurled over the edge into the sea below." + +"A tragedy indeed," commented Major Carstairs as the speaker paused. +"What was the next act? Did Luigi and Tochatti become reconciled and +walk off arm-in-arm?" + +"No." Chloe's voice sank a little. "It seems that when Tochatti, +horror-struck by the result of her interference, rushed on to the scene, +Luigi turned upon her, guessing somehow that she was responsible, and +taxed her with having lured Jose to the spot that night. She owned up to +it, and instead of imploring forgiveness appeared to glory in her +treachery, whereupon Luigi, throwing the fatal letter into her face, +burst into a torrent of rage, telling her he had never cared for her, +that Bella was the only girl he had ever loved, and finished up by +stabbing himself before her eyes rather than endure a life from which +his adored one had vanished for ever." + +"I say! What a tale--quite a Shakespearean ending, stage fairly littered +with corpses," struck in Major Carstairs. "I wonder Tochatti didn't put +the finishing touch by stabbing herself as well!" + +"She did think of it, I believe," owned Chloe, "but the sound of +quarrelling had brought other people on the scene, and Tochatti was of +course arrested and the whole story investigated with more or less +thoroughness. Being a pretty common story, however--for the Sicilians +are a hot-blooded race--it was quite easy for the authorities to +reconstruct the scene; and since Tochatti was innocent of any actual +crime she was eventually released; only to fall ill with some affection +of the brain which finally landed her in an asylum." + +"An asylum!" Anstice whistled. "Yet one would have hesitated to call her +insane----" + +"Yes, now, but you must remember this is very many years ago. She +recovered at length, and the only reminiscence of the tragedy was a +marked aversion to using pen or pencil. She seemed to think that having +wrought so much harm by her one attempt at letter-writing she would be +wiser to avoid such things in future." + +"Pity she didn't keep her resolve," commented Major Carstairs dryly; and +Chloe nodded. + +"Yes. We should all have been spared a good deal of trouble. Well, as +you know, she entered my mother's service during her honeymoon in Italy, +and was my nurse as a child. Now I come to the second half of the story. +Tochatti chose to adore me from my early youth"--she smiled +faintly--"and she always bore a grudge against anyone who did not fall +down and worship me too. And this peculiar attitude of hers has a +bearing on the affair of the letters. When Mrs. Ogden chose to quarrel +with me, or at least evince a decided coldness, Tochatti's ready hatred +flared up; and after the unlucky day when Mrs. Ogden cut me dead before +half the county at a Flower Show, she determined to show the woman she +could not be allowed to insult me with impunity." + +"It certainly was a piece of unpardonable rudeness," said Major +Carstairs warmly; and Chloe smiled. + +"Yes--and at the moment I resented it very bitterly. But if Tochatti +herself had not been there, in charge of Cherry, the matter would have +dropped--and it was really unfortunate she should have seen the 'cut.' +Well, it seems that Tochatti brooded over the affair, wondering how best +to get even with the person who dared to act insolently towards me." +Chloe's voice held just a tinge of mockery. "Twenty odd years of +residence in England had taught her that one can't use daggers and +knives with impunity, and I believe at first she was genuinely puzzled +to know how to act. I suppose the thought of weapons turned her mind +back to that Sicilian affair; and suddenly it flashed upon her that +letters, after all, could be trusted to do a good deal of injury." + +"So she wrote an anonymous letter calculated to do harm to the unlucky +subject thereof?" + +"Yes, and sent it to Sir Richard Wayne. Well, once having started she +apparently couldn't leave off. Her venom grew, so to speak, by being fed +in this manner; and she wrote one letter after another--you know her +mother was English, and she was well versed in our tongue--until +practically everyone in the parish knew a garbled version of Mrs. +Ogden's sordid little story." + +"One moment, Chloe." Major Carstairs had a soldier's mind for detail. +"How did the woman know that story? I thought no one ever owned to +having heard it?" + +"No one ever did," said Chloe rather bitterly. "But the explanation is +simple after all. Mrs. Ogden had, before I made my appearance on the +scene, repeated the tale to another woman in the parish--the young wife +of a solicitor whom she had 'taken up' with great fervour on her first +arrival in Littlefield; and this woman had repeated the story to her +French maid. The latter, being a stranger in England was pleased to make +Tochatti's acquaintance; and one day told her the story, of course in +strictest confidence. Well, the woman, the solicitor's wife, died, +almost immediately after that, as the result of a motor accident; and +her maid returned to her home somewhere in the valley of the Loire, +without having, so far as one can conjecture, passed on the tale to +anyone else." + +"Yes," said Anstice thoughtfully, as Chloe came to a stop. "Quite a +simple explanation, as you say, yet one which might never have come to +light." + +"There is still a point puzzling me," said Carstairs meditatively. "I +can understand Tochatti writing the letters, and thus seeking to injure +a woman whom she considered to be the enemy of her mistress. But how did +she ever bring herself to allow you to be suspected, Chloe?" + +"Ah, that is where the mystery really comes in, and where, possibly, Dr. +Anstice's theory of the double personality may be considered." Chloe +looked at them both rather dubiously. "I confess I can't understand that +part of the story myself. Tochatti has assured me that she never for an +instant dreamed I should be suspected--the slight similarity in some of +the writing to some of mine was more or less accidental, though she +admits she had tried to model her script on mine because she admired +it ... as she admired all my poor faculties," said Chloe, with a little +shrug of her shoulders. "I really believe she used my pens and paper +without any idea of the harm she was doing me--in fact, if such a +supposition could be entertained for a moment, I don't believe she had +any very clear idea what she was doing beyond a fixed intention to work +harm to the woman she detested." + +"You mean that the idea of this Mrs. Ogden filled her mental horizon to +the exclusion of any other thought?" It was Anstice who put the +question. + +"Yes. Honestly I believe she was incapable of looking, as one might say, +all round the subject. You see"--Chloe hesitated, not sure how far the +suggestion was permissible--"she had once been in an asylum, and +possibly her brain had never worked quite normally since that tragedy on +the cliffs." + +"No, it is possible she was the victim of a sort of monomania," conceded +Anstice. "In which case no other person would be connected in her mind +with the affair save the one against whom the campaign was directed. It +is a pretty lame explanation, I own, but then the workings of the human +mind are so extraordinarily incomprehensible sometimes that I, for my +part, have very nearly ceased being surprised at anything a man or woman +may be disposed to do!" + +"Tochatti tells me she grew very uneasy when things began to look really +black," continued Chloe. "She had not understood when she started that +letters of this kind rendered one liable to imprisonment sometimes; and +she was horrified when she discovered that fact. I believe she would +willingly have undone the harm she had done if it had been possible; for +she couldn't help seeing, as the days went on, that I was in grave +danger of incurring the penalty of her fault. Once, at least, I am sure +she nerved herself to tell the whole truth----" + +"Her good intentions evidently went to pave a place which shall be +nameless," said Major Carstairs dryly. "After all, her affection for you +seems to have been a very pinchbeck affair, Chloe, if she could calmly +stand by and see you suffer for her wickedness. And for my part I don't +see how you can be expected to forgive her." + +For a second Chloe sat silently in her corner of the couch; and in her +face were the traces of the conflicting emotions which made for a moment +a battlefield of her soul. + +After all Chloe Carstairs was a very human woman; and it is not in human +nature to suffer a great wrong and feel no resentment against those who +have inflicted that wrong. Had she been able to forgive Tochatti +immediately, to condone her wickedness, to restore the woman to her old +place in her esteem, Chloe had been something less--or more--than human; +and that she was after all only mortal was proved by her answer to +Carstairs' last speech. + +"I don't think I have forgiven her--yet----" she said very quietly. "At +the same time I don't care to doubt the genuineness of her affection for +me. I would rather think that she turned coward at the notion of +suffering punishment, and let me endure it in her place through a +selfish terror which forbade her to own up and take the blame herself." + +"Well--if you look at it like that----" Major Carstairs was evidently +not satisfied; and Chloe, possibly feeling unable, or reluctant, to make +any further excuse for Tochatti, hurried on with her tale. + +"Another factor in Tochatti's determination not to suffer herself is to +be found in her dread of a prison as a sort of asylum like that in which +she had been confined abroad. I don't know what kind of institution that +had been, but she evidently retains to this day a very vivid +recollection of the horrors she then endured; and her heart failed her +at the bare thought of returning to such a frightful existence as she +had then experienced. At any rate"--she suddenly abandoned her +apologia--"she could not face it; and so she allowed me to take the +blame; and by reiterating the fact that she could not write--a theory +which the other servants held, in common with me----" + +"But had you never seen her write? It seems odd, all the years she had +been in your service!" + +"No, I had never seen her write, for the simple reason that she never +did write. It seems that the result of that fatal letter of hers had +imprinted a horror of writing on her mind; and I really believe that +until the day on which she penned the first anonymous letter she had +never taken a pen or pencil in her hand...." + +"Well, it's admitted she wrote those letters, and hoodwinked the world," +said Carstairs briskly. "And though I confess I don't understand how she +could reconcile her actions with her affection for you we will let that +point pass. But now--what about those last letters? Is Dr. Anstice's +supposition that she was jealous of him correct?" + +"Quite." Chloe looked at Anstice rather apologetically. "You know +Tochatti is of a horribly jealous disposition; and she could not bear to +see Cherry growing fonder of you day by day. That unlucky accident was +the crowning point, of course; and the fact that you appeared to slight +her powers of looking after the child--you must forgive me for putting +it like that--was too much for her. With the arrival of Nurse Trevor +Tochatti seemed to lose all sense of decent behaviour; and her idea was +to repeat her former experience and circularize the neighbourhood with a +scandalous story which she hoped, as she has since owned to me, might +succeed in driving you away." + +"A very pretty plot," said Anstice quietly, "and one which deserved to +succeed. But, Mrs. Carstairs, if you will allow me to repeat your +husband's question--how did she learn my unhappy story?" + +"I expected you to ask that," returned Chloe steadily, "and I made it my +business to find out for you. Well, like the other explanation, it is +very simple. While I was away"--in her new-born happiness Chloe would +not distress her husband by speaking more plainly--"Tochatti took Cherry +down to my old home, where my mother still lives, and of course it was +only natural that she should there hear some version of the story as it +affected my brother Bruce. She acknowledges she would never have +connected you with the affair save for the unlucky fact that on the +night you and Bruce met here he came to my room afterwards to tell me +how and in what circumstances you had met before; and most unfortunately +Tochatti, who was in an adjoining room, heard his explanation. She +didn't think much of it at the time, but stored it up in her mind; and +when, later, she wished to injure you, there was the means ready to +hand." + +"Like the proverbial Corsican who will carry a stone in his pocket for +seven years, turn it, and carry it for another seven on the chance of +being able to sling it at his enemy in the end," commented Carstairs. +"Well, thank God, the whole story is cleared up now; and the next thing +to do is to set about making the matter public and seeing justice done +at last." + +"Quite so--and it should be easy now," concurred Anstice heartily. "With +the letter you hold as evidence and the woman's full confession you +should not have much trouble with the case." + +Looking at Chloe as he spoke he saw a strange expression flit across her +face. The next instant she rose and going across to her husband's chair +stood looking down upon him with unfathomable blue eyes. + +"Leo"--her voice was very low--"is it really necessary that the matter +should be made public? So long as you know the truth--and Dr. +Anstice--and my dear friends Sir Richard and Iris, can't we let the +subject drop? You know I don't care in the least for the opinion of the +world, and it would mean so much trouble, so much raking up of things +best forgotten. Couldn't we"--she hesitated--"couldn't we leave things +alone, and just be thankful that _we_ know the truth at last?" + +Major Carstairs looked up at his wife as she stood before him; and his +voice was very gentle as he answered her. + +"But, Chloe, what of Tochatti herself? She must not be allowed to go +unpunished. Besides, there is another aspect of the case. You know these +abominable letters have been scattered broadcast in the land, and it is +only fair to Dr. Anstice that their authorship should be published and +their lies refuted." + +"Yes. I had forgotten that." She turned to Anstice, who had risen and +was standing leaning against the mantelpiece, looking desperately +uncomfortable. "Forgive me, please, Dr. Anstice! For the second time I +had forgotten that you were the victim of this latest outrage of +Tochatti's----" + +"Mrs. Carstairs--please!" In his haste to explain himself Anstice spoke +rather incoherently. "If you are willing to let this matter drop--why, +so am I. For your own sake I think, while you are behaving nobly, you +are making a mistake--a most generous, chivalrous mistake--in not +proving your entire innocence before all the world, but if you are +really resolved on it, do let me make you understand that personally I +am only too ready to let the whole thing slide into the oblivion it +deserves!" + +"My dear fellow"--Major Carstairs spoke warmly--"this is all very well, +very Quixotic, very--well, what you call noble, chivalrous--but what +about the moral side of the affair? Justice should be tempered with +mercy, certainly; but it doesn't do to defraud justice altogether of her +dues. The woman has committed a crime--I repeat it, a crime against +society, against you, against my wife; and to let her go unpunished is +to put a premium on wickedness; and leave both you and my wife to lie +under a most undeserved, most cruel stigma." + +For a moment Anstice hesitated; and before he could frame a reply Chloe +spoke very quietly, yet with a decision there was no mistaking. + +"Leo, I see your point of view plainly--a good deal more plainly, I +think, than you see mine. Of course as a man you want your wife's name +cleared; and if you insist on making the affair public, why then"--said +Chloe with a little smile--"I suppose I must submit as a good wife +should. But"--she was serious now--"if you knew how I dread the +publicity of it all--the reports in the papers, the gossip, the +talk--oh, it makes me shudder even to think of it! And if you imagine me +revengeful enough to find satisfaction in the idea of Tochatti's +punishment--well, I think you must have a quite mistaken notion of me +after all!" + +Major Carstairs hesitated, looking from his wife to Anstice in manifest +perplexity. + +"Well, really, Chloe, I don't know what to say. Of course you and Dr. +Anstice are the people chiefly concerned; and if you are both of you +sufficiently superhuman to forego your legitimate revenge--well, I +suppose it is not for me to interfere!" + +"Suppose you think it over, sir." Anstice felt a sudden desire to get +away, to be alone, to think over the revelation of the past half-hour. +"For my part I really must go about my work--I'd no idea it was so late. +By the way, who will take charge of Tochatti to-night? She is asleep +now"--he had seen to that--"but later on she will want a little looking +after. She has not borne out my theory," he added, turning to the +soldier. "I thought that last night's excitement would have vanished +entirely to-day; but I'm bound to admit she is in a queer state; and if +she is no better to-morrow you will have to let me send someone to look +after her." + +"The housekeeper and I will be able to do that at present," said Chloe +quietly. "You know poor Tochatti's hatred of professional nurses was +directly responsible for that last burst of letter-writing, so we had +better not try her too far!" + +"By the way, where's the dagger she produced with such lightning +sleight-of-hand last night?" Anstice put the question casually as he +turned towards the door. "It would not be wise to leave it about, in +case she felt like using it again!" + +"It is hidden, at present, in my dressing-case," said Chloe. "I picked +it up last night and flung it in there lest anyone should see it. But I +agree it would be safer locked up; and I will give it to you, Leo, when +I go upstairs." + +"Yes, it will be better in my keeping," said Carstairs briskly. "Though +I hope the madness which induced her to try to use it will have passed +before long." + +"We'll see how she is in the morning," said Anstice as he shook hands +with Chloe. "I'll come round directly after breakfast, shall I? Quite +possibly she will be herself again after a long sleep." + +"Dr. Anstice"--Chloe retained his hand for a moment--"are you quite sure +you don't regret agreeing with me over the possible hushing up of the +affair? I'm afraid, after all, I made it rather hard for you to do +anything but acquiesce just now. But if, after thinking it over, you +decide that the story should be made public, well, I am quite ready to +abide by your decision." + +"No, Mrs. Carstairs." Anstice's tone was too sincere for her to doubt +his genuineness. "For my own part I am more than ready to stand by my +former verdict; and the final decision rests entirely with you. +Only--perhaps I may be permitted to express my thankfulness that the +problem has been solved--and my hope that you--and your husband--may +find the future sufficiently bright to atone for the darkness of the +past." + +"Thank you," she said gently, and her eyes looked very soft. "At least +my husband and I will never forget that we owe our happiness to you." + +And with the words, cordially endorsed by Major Carstairs, ringing in +his ears Anstice left Cherry Orchard and fared forth once more into the +gloomy November night. + +As he drove away he told himself that he was truly glad the mystery was +elucidated at last. Yet even as he did so he knew that his own share in +the matter gave him little satisfaction. He felt no elation at the turn +of events. He told himself impatiently that he ought by rights to be +jubilant, since it was owing to his efforts that Tochatti had been +unmasked; but in spite of his honest endeavour to spur his flagging +emotions his heart felt heavy in his breast, and there was no elation in +his soul. + +After all, he told himself wearily, the discovery of the truth meant +very little to him. With Mrs. Carstairs the case was widely different; +and he did rejoice, sincerely, in her happiness; but for himself, having +lost Iris Wayne, all lesser events were of very little importance after +all. + +"I wonder how Mrs. Carstairs will decide," he said to himself as he +drove homewards. "Whatever her decision I suppose I must abide by it; +but for myself I sincerely hope she will stick to her first view of the +matter." + +And then he dismissed the subject from his thoughts for the moment, +little dreaming of the awful and tragic manner in which the decision was +to be taken out of Chloe Carstairs' hands in the course of the next few +hours. + + * * * * * + +He was just thinking of going to bed that night when the telephone bell +rang sharply; and with one of those strange premonitions to which all +highly-strung people are at times liable, he connected the call +instantly with the affair at Cherry Orchard. + +"Yes ... I'm Dr. Anstice ... who is it?" + +"Carstairs," came the answer over the wire. "I say, Anstice, +can you come at once? Something appalling has +happened--Tochatti--she--she's----" + +"She has killed herself." The words were more of an assertion than a +question. + +"Yes ... with that beastly dagger ... found it somehow and stabbed +herself ... what? ... yes ... quite dead ... I'm sure of it...." + +"I'll come round at once. Does Mrs. Carstairs know?" + +"Yes ... what? ... yes, a dreadful shock, but she's quite +calm ... you'll come ... the sooner the better ... many thanks...." + +Anstice hung up the receiver and turned away, feeling almost stunned by +the news he had received. The woman's death, coming on the top of the +events of the preceding twenty-four hours, was in itself sufficient to +shake even his nerve; but he lost no time in obeying the summons and +arrived at Cherry Orchard just as the clock struck twelve. + +He found the entire household up, the tragic news having circulated with +the rapidity peculiar to such catastrophic tidings; and preceded by +Major Carstairs, who met him in the hall, he hurried upstairs to the +room where Tochatti lay in her last sleep. + +It was quite true, as Major Carstairs had said, that she was dead. She +had only too evidently been aware of the dagger's hiding-place, probably +through familiarity with Chloe's movements in normal times; and had +seized a moment when the housekeeper, thinking her asleep, had left her +to procure a fresh stock of candles for the night's vigil, to slip into +Chloe's room in search of the weapon. + +Once in possession of the dagger the rest was easy; and whatever might +be the nature of the emotions which drove her to the deed, whether +remorse, dread of punishment, or some half-crazed fear of what the +future might hold, the result was certain--and fatal. + +She had made no mistake this time. The dagger had been plunged squarely +in her breast; and when the housekeeper stole in again, expecting to +find her charge still asleep, her horrified eyes were met by the sight +of Tochatti's life-blood ebbing over the white sheets, her ears assailed +by the choking gurgle with which the misguided woman yielded up her +life.... + + * * * * * + +"Yes, she is quite dead, poor thing." Anstice replaced the bedclothes +and stood looking down on the dead woman with a steady gaze. "Perhaps, +knowing her former brain weakness, I ought to have expected this. But in +any case, Mrs. Carstairs"--he turned to Chloe, who stood, white and +rigid, by his side--"the decision has been taken out of your--of our +hands now. The matter is bound to come to light, after all." + +"You mean there must be an inquest--an inquiry into this affair?" It was +Major Carstairs who spoke. + +"I'm afraid so--you see a thing like this can't very well be hushed up," +said Anstice rather reluctantly. "And though I can't help feeling +thankful that Mrs. Carstairs will have justice done to her at last, I'm +sure we all feel we would have borne a good deal sooner than let this +dreadful thing happen." + +"Dr. Anstice"--Chloe turned to him almost appealingly--"are we really to +blame? If we hadn't plotted, set a trap to catch my poor Tochatti, this +would not have come to pass; and I shall always feel that by leaving the +dagger in my dressing-case I was the means of bringing this dreadful +tragedy about." + +"Come, Mrs. Carstairs, you mustn't talk nonsense of that kind!" His tone +was bracing. "You were not in the least to blame. If anyone was, I +should be the person, seeing I did not warn you of this possibility. But +you know the poor soul was a very determined woman; and if she had set +her mind on self-destruction she would have carried out her intention +somehow." + +"Well, at least there will be no object in keeping the authorship of +those confounded letters a secret now," said Major Carstairs, putting +his hand kindly on his wife's arm. "After all poor Tochatti has done us +a service by her death which will go far towards wiping out the injury +of her life. And now it is one o'clock, and we none of us had much sleep +last night----" + +"You're right," said Anstice quickly, "and Mrs. Carstairs looks worn +out. Can't you persuade her to go to bed, Major Carstairs? There is +really no need for her to stay here harrowing her feelings another +moment." + +"I'll go," she said at once. "Good-night again, Dr. Anstice. It will +comfort me to know that you don't think me entirely to blame--for this." + +"I think you are as innocent in this matter as in that other one we +discussed to-night," he said quietly. "And this poor woman here, if, as +we may surely believe, she has regained by now the sanity she may have +temporarily lost, would be the last to think any but kindly thoughts of +you in the light of her fuller humanity." + +"Thank you," she said again, as she had said it earlier in the evening; +and once more they exchanged the firm and cordial handshake by which +those who are truly friends seal their parting. + +When he had closed the door behind her he came back to the bedside where +Major Carstairs still stood, looking down on the dead woman with an +unfathomable expression in his eyes. + +"Anstice, from the bottom of my heart I regret the manner of this poor +soul's passing," he said, and his voice was genuinely moved. "But even +so I can't altogether regret that she took this way of cutting the knot. +For now my wife and I may at least hope for the ordinary happiness which +other human beings know. We have been in the shadow a long time, Chloe +and I"--he spoke half to himself--"but now we may surely pray for +sunshine for the rest of our earthly pilgrimage together." + +"Amen to that," said Anstice solemnly; and as the two men shook hands +silently each rejoiced, in his individual fashion, that Chloe Carstairs +had come into her own at last. + + + + +BOOK III + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +Anstice stood on the deck of the P. and O. boat _Moldavia_, looking out +over the blue seas to where Port Said lay white and shining in the rays +of the March sun. + +He had seen the port before, on his way to and from India, but he had +never landed there, and looked forward with some keenness of +anticipation to setting foot in the place which enjoys, rightly or +wrongly, one of the most unsavoury reputations in the world. + +Not that his stay would be long--a night at most--for he purposed +journeying on to Cairo without loss of time, and as the boat drew nearer +and nearer to the quay, whereon a crowd of gesticulating natives raised +the unholy din which every traveller associates with this particular +landing, Anstice turned about and swung down the companion to take a +last look round his dismantled cabin. + +It was now nearly eight weeks since he had quitted Littlefield. Having +disposed of his practice in the nick of time to a college friend who +wished to settle in the country, and having also received an unexpected +windfall in the shape of a small legacy from a distant relation, he had +decided, after a short stay in London, to take a holiday before starting +to work once more. + +His choice of a destination had not been unaffected by the fact of Iris +Cheniston's residence in the land of Egypt. Although he had no +expectation of meeting her--for she and her husband were still somewhere +in the desert, a couple of days' journey from Cairo--there was an odd +fascination in the bare idea of inhabiting, even for a few weeks, the +land which held the girl he still loved. For although he had long since +determined that he must avoid Bruce Cheniston's wife if he wished to +keep his secret inviolate, and incidentally attempt, by starving his +passion of its natural food, to keep his love unsullied by any hint of +envy, any emotion of desire--well, all men are sophists at heart, and in +spite of all his self-assurances that he could visit Egypt without +seeking to gain even a glimpse of Iris, ever in the background of his +thoughts lay a delicious, barely formulated hope that possibly Fate +might vouchsafe to him one fleeting vision on which his hungry heart +might feed in the empty days which must needs ensue. + +There had been changes in Littlefield since that November evening on +which the truth concerning the anonymous letters had come to light. +After Tochatti's death it had naturally proved impossible altogether to +hush up the tragedy and its immediate results, and although Anstice had +done his best to mitigate the position for Major Carstairs and his wife, +the inquest had proved a trying affair for all of them. + +Since the woman was dead there was no need to keep the authorship of +those letters a secret, and before he left Littlefield Anstice had the +satisfaction of knowing that Mrs. Carstairs' name had been effectually +cleared from the slur placed upon it by a censorious and ignorant world. + +When once this was accomplished Major Carstairs insisted on carrying off +his wife and Cherry for a long holiday in the south of France, and +although Cherry wept bitterly at the thought of parting from her beloved +Anstice, he was able to console her by a recital of the wonderful things +she would behold by the shores of the azure Mediterranean. + +He was surprised to find, when the real parting came, how hard it was to +say good-bye to his friends. Although he considered himself unsociable, +independent of the claims of friendship, forced, so to speak, into +misanthropy by the circumstances of his life, he had grown to have a +real esteem for Chloe Carstairs, and the spectacle of her new-born +vitality, her radiant happiness, was one which gave him a very deep and +genuine pleasure. As for Cherry, that quaint child had long since twined +herself round his heart-strings, and although Major Carstairs was, +comparatively speaking, a new acquaintance, Anstice respected the +soldier as an honest man and a gentleman. + +A week after their departure another blow befell Anstice in the sudden +death of his friend Fraser Carey, and when at last he was summoned in +haste to Carey's aid he found that the latter had suffered for years +from a painful internal disease. + +"But why not have submitted to an operation years ago?" Anstice asked +him gently as he sat, impotent to help, by his friend's side in the +light of the dying day. "It might have been successful"--he dare not say +more--"and you would have been spared years of agonizing suffering." + +The other man smiled, and his eyes for a moment lost their look of pain. + +"Quite so," he said gently, "but at the same time I might--probably +should--have died. I took the best advice, nearly ruined myself with +visiting specialists"--he smiled very faintly--"and none could give me +any assurance that I should live through it. And I could not +afford--then--to die." + +"Not afford?" Anstice stared at him in amazement. + +"No. You see"--his voice was a mere thread--"you see I had a wife, +Anstice--oh, no one knows, and my secret is safe with you--and although +I could not live with her ... she was not what the world calls a good +woman, and her ideal of life was not one which I, as a clergyman, could +assist her to realize--well, I could not let her sink altogether for +want of money to keep some sort of home together." + +"You sent her money?" + +"Yes. I sent what I could from my stipend--it wasn't much--God's +ministers are supposed to be content with the promises of treasure in +heaven," said Carey, with a hint of humour in his weak tone. "I made a +little, too, by writing for the reviews. But it was precarious, Anstice, +precarious; and I dared not risk dying, and leaving her in want." + +"And now?" Anstice had noted the tense in which he spoke of his wife, +and he guessed the answer before the other spoke. + +"She is dead--she died three weeks ago," said Carey quietly. "And now I +can give up the struggle myself----" + +"I wish to God you had told me earlier," said Anstice vehemently. "At +least I might have done something for you----" + +"Oh, I had alleviations," said Carey slowly. "When the pain grew +unendurable I had remedies which gave me some relief. But I knew that if +I told you you would seek to persuade me to a course I really could not +have adopted. You mustn't mind me saying it, Anstice. Perhaps I have +been wrong all through." His voice was wistful. "But I did what I +thought was right--and luckily for us poor men God judges us by our +intentions, so to speak, and not by the results." + +The words returned to Anstice's mind three days later as he stood by the +graveside of his friend, and in his heart he wondered whether it were +indeed true that what men called failure might, in the eyes of God, +spell a great and glorious success. + + * * * * * + +The next person to leave Littlefield was Sir Richard Wayne. For since +his daughter's wedding he had been finding life without her almost +unbearable, and at length he avowed that the English climate in winter +was altogether more than any sensible man could be expected to endure--a +somewhat surprising statement from a former M.F.H.--and declared his +intention of paying a visit to Iris and her husband in Egypt forthwith. + +It was of Sir Richard Wayne that Anstice was thinking half an hour later +when the _Moldavia_ had come to her berth at the quay and he was about +to leave the ship on which the short and prosperous voyage had been +made. + +However much the theory of the astral body of man may be denied or +ridiculed, there is no doubt that an unusually vivid thought-presentment +of a friend frequently precedes the appearance of that friend in the +flesh, and it is certain that the mental image of Sir Richard Wayne had +been, for some reason, so strongly before Anstice's mind that in a tall, +grey-clad figure pushing his way vigorously through the crowd of natives +he was inclined to see a striking resemblance to the object of his +thoughts. + +He told himself, rather impatiently, that the notion was absurd. He had +been dwelling for so long on the vision of Sir Richard's daughter that +he had lost, for the moment, his sense of reality, and he turned aside +to reclaim his baggage from the vociferous Arabs who wished, so it +appeared, to appropriate both it and him, without casting another glance +in the direction of Sir Richard's double. + +Yet the hallucination persisted. He could have sworn he heard Sir +Richard's voice raised in protest as the crowding natives impeded his +progress towards the gangway of the boat; and at last Anstice turned +fully round, with half-ashamed curiosity, to see what manner of man this +was who wore the semblance and spoke in the tongue of Sir Richard Wayne. + +As his black eyes roved over the intervening faces they were caught and +held by another pair of eyes--grey eyes these, in whose clear and frank +depths was a strong resemblance to those other wide grey eyes he loved, +and in the next moment Anstice realized that a miracle had happened, and +that the first person to give him greeting in this land of mystery was +none other than Sir Richard Wayne himself. + +About the gladness of the other's greeting there could be no two +opinions. Utterly disregarding the touts and porters who swarmed round +him Sir Richard came forward with outstretched hand, and his eyes fairly +shone with joy and with something that looked like relief. + +"Anstice! By all that's wonderful!" He wrung the younger man's hand +heartily as he spoke. "How came you here--and are you landing for good, +or just taking a look round this God-forsaken old iniquity of a town?" + +"I'm leaving the ship for good. Want to have a look at +Cairo ... interesting place, I've always heard." For a second Anstice +faltered, feeling as though his friend must see through his pretence, and +guess that it was because this land enshrined the one woman in the world +that he was here. But Sir Richard gave no sign of disbelief, and Anstice +was emboldened to proceed. "But you--what are you doing here? I thought +you were somewhere in the desert with--your daughter." + +"So I was, so I was." Sir Richard hesitated, then spoke rapidly. +"Anstice, are you alone--and disengaged? I mean--could your stay in +Cairo be postponed for a few days? I want--I came down here to look for +a doctor--never thinking I'd have the luck to find you----" + +"A doctor?" Beneath the spur of his quick mind Anstice grew pale. "Is +someone ill? Not--not your daughter?" + +"No, not Iris." Unconsciously Anstice breathed a sigh of relief and the +older man glanced at him curiously. "It is Bruce--my son-in-law--who's +ill; and I've come down here to find a doctor. Couldn't get one in +Cairo--it seems the pilgrims have just returned from Mecca bringing +their pet cholera along with them, and the city's got a scare--so I came +down here to meet the boat, meaning to bribe the ship's surgeon to come +back into the desert with me. If he wouldn't respond to _bakshish_ I +should have tried kidnapping," finished Sir Richard grimly, and Anstice +smiled. + +"No need to do that, sir. I'm here, and I'm ready and willing to do all +you require. But first, hadn't I better put in a claim to my belongings? +It seems to me these rascals would think precious little of making off +with all the lot!" + +"Yes--better let me see to it for you," said Sir Richard quickly. "We've +not too much time for the train to Cairo as it is. If you will go and +bespeak an _arabeah_ I'll get your baggage." + +And as Anstice moved to obey, a very tumult in his heart, Sir Richard +turned back to the wildly-shouting crowd and succeeded in reclaiming +Anstice's portmanteau and Gladstone bag from the clutches of the +blue-robed fiends who fought one another for its possession. + +When they were clear of the quay, driving behind the two long-tailed +little horses along the glaring streets, beneath the thinly-leaved and +dusty trees, Anstice turned to Sir Richard interrogatively. + +"Now, sir, can you tell me what's wrong? Mr. Cheniston is ill, you say. +Do you know the nature of his illness?" + +"Enteric, I'm afraid," Sir Richard informed him gravely. "He went on a +shooting expedition a week or two ago with the rich Egyptian for whom he +has been carrying through a big irrigation job, and one day, when, +through a miscalculation, the wine and provisions did not turn up, the +party lunched at a mud-village on eggs and coffee. Being particularly +thirsty Bruce indulged in a small glass of water with slices of citron, +and although the host's servants swore by the Beard of the Prophet and +so on through all their most sacred oaths that they had boiled the water +first, the odds are that they had not, and that it came straight from +the river or some indescribably polluted well. It seems that the +pilgrims had passed that way, and owing to their pleasing habit of +dropping a little of their precious 'holy' water into the wells they +meet, some of those wells are absolute hotbeds of infection, so to +speak." + +"Whew!" Anstice whistled to express his consternation. "And then, of +course, Mr. Cheniston came home and sickened for this illness." + +"Yes. At first he made light of it, said the expedition had been +fatiguing, he had a touch of the sun, and so on. But at last the disease +manifested itself unmistakably, and three days ago I set out for Cairo +to try to get some medical help." + +"There is no doctor out there?" + +"No. You see it is only a tiny village--hardly that--a settlement in the +midst of a little colony of Bedouins. Iris was first persuaded to go +there by a woman she met in Cairo, a Padre's wife who had gone out--at +least the Padre had--to try the effect of the climate on weak lungs. +They have one kiddie, a child of seven or eight, and they were so +pleased with the place that they stayed on, and were the only white +people in the village, with the exception of a young Australian who had +lost his money and went out there to try to grow vegetables, and a +rather eccentric French artist who set up his studio in a sort of +disused fort built on a high rocky plateau about a mile above the little +settlement. He has gone back to France now, taking with him some really +marvellous studies of the desert, so they say." + +"How far is the place from Cairo?" + +"About a day and a half's journey on horseback. Of course, if it had +been possible to bring Bruce in to Cairo that would have been the best +thing. But we daren't take the risk. Mrs. Wood, the Padre's wife, is a +first-class nurse, and she and Iris are doing their very best for the +poor fellow. But still"--Sir Richard shook his head--"there's no doubt +the illness has got a fast grip of him, and I'm afraid of the result, +Anstice, I confess I am afraid." + +He broke off for a moment, then resumed in a brisker tone: + +"Well, here is the station, and now we may expect another uproar over +your precious baggage. The best thing to do is to single out one fellow +and promise him good _bakshish_ if he gets rid of the others; and here +is Mahomed, who is a first-class fellow for the job!" + +He beckoned to a tall, pock-marked Arab in a dusty fez and faded blue +djibbeh, and by dint of lavish promises secured his noisy but efficient +services, with the result that in an incredibly short space of time the +luggage was safely tumbled into the train and Anstice and Sir Richard +faced each other, exhausted but triumphant, in an otherwise empty +carriage. + +"By Jove, but those beggars make me hot!" Anstice threw himself back +into his corner and drew a long breath. "It's always a mystery to me how +people who live in hot climates are so beastly energetic! They seem to +have quicksilver in their veins, not blood." + +"Yet they are lethargic enough at times," returned Sir Richard, pointing +to a recumbent form lying unconcernedly on the platform a few feet from +their open window. "Look at that fellow sleeping there--he doesn't care +in the least what goes on around him--and many times in the street one +has to move off the pavement to avoid stepping on some idle beggar who's +drawn the hood of his garment over his head and gone to sleep, literally +among the feet of the passers-by!" + +As the train proceeded on its way Sir Richard outlined the situation a +little more fully to his keenly-interested companion. + +"When I left, Mrs. Wood had pretty well taken up her abode with Iris," +he said. "Their servants--native, of course--behaved badly, as those +mongrel Arabs often do, and promptly deserted us soon as they found +there was likely to be trouble ahead. All but one, a very decent chap +called Hassan, who is really fond of Iris and would do a lot for her." + +"The other people in the village--Bedouins, I think you said?--how do +they get on with their white neighbours?" + +Sir Richard's forehead suddenly puckered into a worried frown. + +"Not too well," he said slowly. "The fact is, I believe they resented +the European people settling there at all. As I told you, it is a tiny +settlement--just thirty or so Bedouins who cultivate the land and grow +vegetables, which they hawk to other villages a day's march away. They +daren't openly complain, of course, but I believe they would like to +drive the white folks out; especially young Garnett, who is really +beating them at their own game as a clever agriculturist." + +"There is never any trouble, I suppose?" Somehow Anstice felt a vague +uneasiness at the thought of Iris Cheniston shut up in a desert colony +among sullenly hostile neighbours. + +"Oh, no, the Bedouins know the English Government won't allow any +hanky-panky." Sir Richard voiced the assertion so emphatically that a +tiny seed of doubt sprang up in his hearer's heart. "I confess I should +rather like to see Iris and Bruce settle down to civilized life again, +but this is only a holiday, and they won't be there long. Unless----" He +paused and Anstice guessed only too surely the ominous nature of the +pause. + +With an instinctive desire to reassure the other man he spoke quickly. + +"Perhaps when Cheniston is better they will fall in with your advice. No +doubt he will require a change after this illness, and very often, you +know, a man who has been ill takes a dislike to his surroundings, and is +only too ready to exchange them for others." + +"Quite so." Sir Richard spoke absently, looking out of the window the +while, and since he was apparently disinclined for conversation, Anstice +followed his example, seeing plenty to interest him in the panorama +spread before his eyes in this strange and fascinating land, this living +frieze of pictures which might have been transplanted bodily from the +pages of the Old Testament itself. + +Once, when the train came to a standstill at Ismailia, Sir Richard +roused himself to speech. + +"Of course, should the Bedouins ever rise against the strangers in their +midst," he said, repelling with a gesture the attentions of a tall +water-seller who thrust a brass saucer containing a doubtful-looking +liquid through the carriage window, "things might be serious. True, +there are not more than a couple of score of them, and so far, with the +exception of a _fracas_ with Garnett over some vegetables they stole +from him, they have been peaceable enough." + +"I see. And, as you say, they know quite well that the British +Government is behind this handful of English people, and knowing that +reprisals would be certain to follow any lawlessness, I should say they +are too wise to put themselves in the wrong. After all, too, these +people are not doing them any harm by living in their midst." + +"You are right, Anstice, and I'm a silly old fool for letting my +imagination run riot in this way." Sir Richard sat upright and gazed out +at the world of sun and sand through which they were passing. "As you +say, they would not dare--and in any case as soon as Bruce can travel we +will bring them back to civilization." + +"By the way, how soon can we start?" The bare thought of meeting Iris +sent the blood humming wildly through Anstice's veins; and he awaited +Sir Richard's reply with barely-concealed impatience. + +"Well, we shall reach Cairo--if this confounded train doesn't break down +_en route_--about dinner-time. It would be no use attempting to start +to-night--the horses must be ordered for to-morrow morning, as early as +you like. And no doubt you will want to take one or two things with +you." + +Anstice nodded. + +"Yes--but they won't take long to procure. As for baggage--we travel +light?" + +"Yes--just what we can carry. I have plenty of things out there--can +give you all you need," said Sir Richard more briskly. "And if all goes +well we need not anticipate a long stay. Now, how about a cup of tea? +This beastly sand has gone down my throat in bushels." + +He called the Soudanese attendant and gave him an order, and over the +indifferent tea and Huntley and Palmer biscuits which were presently +brought to them, he and Anstice discussed Littlefield and other matters +widely removed from the subject of their former conversation. + +It was seven o'clock when the train finally ran into the station at +Cairo, humming like a beehive with its crowded native life, and ten +minutes later the two men were driving through the busy streets beneath +the clear green evening sky on the way to the hotel chosen by Sir +Richard. + +"The Angleterre--it's quieter than Shepheard's," he said, "and anyhow it +is only for one night. After dinner we'll go and make arrangements for +an early start. That will suit you all right?" + +"The earlier the better," returned Anstice promptly, and as their +carriage drew up before the hotel he sprang out with an eagerness which +seemed to betoken a readiness to start forthwith. + +By ten o'clock that night all arrangements were made, horses bespoken, +baggage packed, and all necessaries purchased, and shortly afterwards +the two men exchanged cordial good-nights and retired to their +respective rooms to seek the refreshment of sleep in preparation for the +morrow's early start. + +But though Sir Richard, his mind relieved by his meeting with Anstice, +fell into a sound slumber ten minutes after he laid his head down on his +pillow, Anstice lay awake all night between the white walls of his +mosquito curtains. + +For there was that in his thoughts which effectually banished sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Anstice never forgot that first day's ride over the desert sand. They +had started early, very shortly, indeed, after daybreak, and by the time +the sun was fully risen they were already some miles on their way. + +It was a heavenly morning, the dry and glittering air full of that +peculiar, crisp sparkle which mounts to one's head like champagne. The +sand shone and twinkled in the yellow sunshine with an almost dazzling +effect, and the pale blue sky had not yet taken on the pitiless +ultramarine hue which comes with the brazen noon. + +The horses, too, seemed alive to the exhilarating quality of the air. +They curvetted and danced over the sand, tossing their arched necks and +lifting their feet daintily as though they were conscious of the beauty +and fitness of their own motion. + +"By Jove, Sir Richard, life is worth living on a morning like this!" +Anstice threw back his head and inhaled large draughts of the +intoxicating, sun-warmed air. "Why on earth do we herd in cities when +there are glorious tracts of desert land where one might pitch one's +tent! I declare I wish I were a nomad myself!" + +"You feel like that?" Sir Richard looked a trifle wistfully at the +younger man, envying him his superior youth and more robust physique. +"For my part I confess to a distrust of the desert. It seems to me as +though there were a blight on these huge tracts of sand, as though the +Creator had regretted their creation, yet was too perfect a Worker to +try, by altering the original purpose of His handiwork, to turn them +into something for which they were not intended." + +He paused, pulling up his horse and turning in his saddle to survey the +yellow and brown waste over which they had come. + +"I suppose, as an Englishman whose forbears have always clung to the +soil, I find more pleasure in beholding an English landscape," he said, +with a smile which was half apologetic. "The ideal of making two blades +of grass spring where there was but one before may not be a very exalted +one, but I confess I see more beauty in a field of grain waving under +the August sun, than in these acres of yellow sand, and the thought of a +perpetual summer, with never the soft grey tones of an autumn sky or the +crisp frostiness of a winter's morning--well, it doesn't appeal to my +John Bull soul!" + +He laughed, ashamed of his vehemence, and the horses sprang gaily +forward, glad to be moving again after even so brief a halt. + +All through the morning they rode, resting for an hour or two at noon; +and in the late afternoon they remounted their horses and fared forth +once more in search of the camping-place Sir Richard had in mind. + +By dint of compasses and an unusually accurate sense of location, the +older man had staked their course with admirable directness, and as the +moon rose they drew rein at the appointed destination, a wild and rocky +valley whose caves offered a natural protection from the chill night +breeze which blew with disconcerting freshness over the loose, +salt-impregnated sand. + +Here, thanks to the ever-useful thermos flask, they enjoyed a sufficient +meal of hot soup, followed by a multitude of sandwiches of divers kinds; +and when, after a pull at their respective flasks, the two lit their +pipes and stretched their limbs, cramped by the day's exertions, +Anstice, at least, felt more at peace with the world than he had felt +for years. + +To be hastening towards Iris Cheniston, to be sure of meeting her within +twenty-four hours, sure of seeing the kind friendliness of her wide grey +eyes, of hearing the soft cooing notes of her voice, was enough to make +a man content with his lot; and the fact that he was journeying towards +her in order to do his best to save the life of the one human being who +stood between him and his happiness lost all its irony when he +remembered that it was in reality Iris herself for whom this service was +undertaken. + +The next morning found them early astir; and as their horses danced over +the sand, literally throwing the miles behind them, Sir Richard's +spirits, which had been somewhat fluctuating, rose with a bound. He +whistled gaily as they rode, ever and anon breaking off to conjecture on +the nature of the welcome they might reasonably expect to receive; and +when he spoke, as he did frequently, of his son-in-law, his +prognostications, in striking contrast with his former pessimism, were +couched in the most hopeful language. + +Strange to say, as his spirits rose, so did those of Anstice sink. An +odd foreboding, a premonition for which he could not account, displaced +the gladness from his heart; and as they rode on and ever onwards he +told himself that they were surely riding towards tragedy. + +Possibly it was the Celtic strain in him which rendered him liable to +these strange and perverse forebodings of evil. On sundry other +occasions in his earlier youth he had fallen with appalling swiftness +from the heights of glad anticipation to the depths of a certain and +most unwelcome gloom; and now, quite suddenly, he found himself involved +in a black and rayless melancholy which seemed to fortell some +catastrophic happening at hand. + +It was with more and more difficulty that he replied to Sir Richard's +hopeful prophecies; and so strong upon him was the premonition of +disaster that when he learned at last that they were within an hour or +two's ride of their destination he spurred on his still willing steed in +a sudden desire to know the worst which was to befall. + +As he stared ahead of him, his eyes beginning to adjust themselves now +to the peculiar conditions of the desert atmosphere, he caught sight of +a speck upon the sand which, unlike the majority of desert objects, the +scanty tamarisk bushes, the low humpbacked hills which here and there +formed an apparently endless chain, appeared to move, to grow almost +imperceptibly larger as the distance between them diminished. + +During their ride over the desert they had met no other human beings. +Once or twice they had seen, to right or left of their track, a +collection of mud huts, overshadowed by the plumy tufts of tall +date-palms, betokening the presence of a handful of _fellaheen_ +scratching a livelihood from the unfriendly sand. Again they had twice +beheld in the far distance a caravan winding its leisurely way upon some +mysterious errand to an unknown destination; but these last had been too +far away for their component parts of horses, camels, merchandise, to be +distinguished; and after a brief glance towards the long snaky lines as +they wound their way through the sand, Sir Richard and Anstice had +wisely refused to strain their eyesight further. + +But this solitary unit on the vast face of the desert was a different +matter; and Anstice gazed steadily ahead in an as yet fruitless attempt +to make out what this thing which appeared to move towards them might +be. + +At first he said nothing, thinking that his eyes might quite conceivably +be playing him tricks, that this apparently moving figure might possibly +be a figment of his brain, or one of those delusive sprites which are +said to haunt the unwary traveller in the desert; but at length, as the +distance between the object and himself diminished more and more +rapidly, until he could have sworn he caught the flutter of a blue robe, +Anstice felt it time to point out the vision or whatever it might be to +his as yet unseeing companion. + +"Sir Richard," he said, so suddenly that Sir Richard, who had been +jogging along sunk in reverie, started in surprise. "Do you see anyone +coming towards us over the sand?" + +Sir Richard, thus appealed to, sat up more erectly in his saddle; and +gazed with his keen old eyes in the direction of Anstice's pointing +hand; and Anstice watched him with an anxiety which was surely out of +place. + +After a moment's fruitless search Sir Richard unslung the field-glasses +which he carried, and applied them to his eyes; and in another moment, +having adjusted the focus, he uttered an exclamation. + +"By Gad, Anstice, you're right! It's a native of sorts, and he is coming +directly towards us. He is too far off for me to distinguish his +features--you look and see what you can make of him." + +He handed the glasses to Anstice, who raised them to his eyes; and after +adjusting the lenses to suit his younger, keener sight, he swept them +round in an attempt to focus the distant object. + +First an apparently illimitable expanse of sky and sand swam slowly into +view, each insignificant landmark in the desert magnified almost +incredibly by the powerful glasses; and at last the blue-robed native +appeared suddenly as though only a stone's throw away from the man who +searched for him. + +The glass revealed him as an Arab of an ordinary type clad in a faded +blue djibbeh, over which he wore the short grey coat so inexplicably +beloved of the native. On his head was a scarlet fez; and his blue robe +was gathered up in such a way as to leave bare his brown and sinewy legs +as he paddled ruthlessly and unhesitatingly over the burning sand. + +As he lowered the glasses Anstice gave a short description of the +advancing native to Sir Richard, adding: + +"He seems to be in something of a hurry--he's covering the ground in a +most energetic fashion--and he really does appear to be making straight +for us!" + +All at once Sir Richard's lately-born optimism fell from him like an +ill-fitting garment. Taking the glasses back he adjusted them once more +with fingers that absolutely trembled; and when after a long and steady +stare he lowered them and turned to his companion his face was very +serious. + +"Anstice, I hope to God I'm mistaken, but that fellow looks uncommonly +like Hassan--and from the haste he's making I should say he had been +sent out to meet us. And that can only mean disaster--either Bruce is +worse, or----" He broke off suddenly, his fine old face suddenly grey. + +"Oh, it won't be so bad as that, sir!" Unconsciously Anstice replied to +the unspoken suggestion. "Possibly your daughter has sent this chap to +relieve your mind--Cheniston may have taken a turn for the better--heaps +of things may have happened." + +"Quite so." Sir Richard was replacing his glasses in their case with +oddly fumbling movements. "But I wish to God we were safely back ... we +can't even see the village for these confounded palm trees!" + +As though the horses understood and sympathized with the mental tension +of their riders they sprang forward with renewed energy; and some hard +riding brought the two men within hailing distance of the approaching +native. + +"It is Hassan all right," said Sir Richard with a rather painful attempt +at composure. "Let us hurry on and find out what is amiss at the +village." + +As the native drew nearer it was easy to see that he was the bearer of +important news. His coffee-coloured face was shining with drops of +perspiration, and his breath came in pitiful gasps as he hurried up to +Sir Richard and began pouring out his story in a flood of mixed Arabic +and English which was quite unintelligible to Anstice. + +"Speak slower, man, slower!" Sir Richard spoke emphatically, and for a +space the native obeyed; but it was evident from the look of mingled +consternation and rage in his hearer's face that the story was one of +dire import. + +When, presently, the Arab ceased, his tongue positively lolling out of +his mouth like that of a thirsty dog, Sir Richard turned to Anstice with +an air of determination. + +"Things have been moving, with a vengeance, in our absence," he said +grimly. "It seems that yesterday morning early young Garnett found a +couple of Bedouins prowling about his place and helping themselves to +his choicest produce; and being a hotheaded young fool he let fly at +them with his revolver, the result being that by a most unlucky chance +he winged one of the rascals and the other assisted him off, vowing +vengeance on the whole little English colony of eight souls. It was not +an empty threat either; for when Hassan, feeling uneasy at the idea of +harm coming to Iris, slunk into the village to find out, if possible, +what mischief was afoot, he ran slick into a conclave of the brutes, and +hiding behind a rock heard their plans." + +"They were pretty deadly, I suppose?" + +"They merely embraced the wholesale massacre, under cover of night, of +the English men and women who had been fools enough to trust their good +faith," returned Sir Richard shortly. "Well, Hassan, whose wits are as +sharp as his ears are long, lost no time in going back to his mistress +with the information; and between them they evolved a plan which might, +with the most marvellous luck, be successful." + +"And that plan, sir?" Anstice's tone was tense. + +"Aided by Hassan, at the approach of night the whole little group of +white people crept safely into the Fort of which I told you; and when, a +couple of hours later, the Bedouins came forth intent on reprisals, they +found the houses of the English empty, and realized, too late, that the +Fort was quite a different nut to crack." + +"It is a fairly safe building?" + +"Well, it has certain natural advantages, I grant." Sir Richard spoke +rather dubiously. "We went over it one day, in a spirit of curiosity; +and I have a pretty clear recollection of the place. To begin with, as I +told you the Bedouin encampment is a sort of oasis in a valley at the +foot of some quite respectably high rocks. You know the desert is not, +as some people imagine, merely a flat expanse of sand. Here and there +are ranges of hills, limestone, and so on--and now and then one comes +across quite a chain of rocky places which in another country would be +looked upon as precipices." + +He paused; and Anstice waited eagerly for him to continue. + +"Well, this Fort is, very luckily, built on a plateau overlooking the +valley. On one side the ground slopes gently down to the little colony, +but on the other the Fort overlooks a high precipice of rock which of +course affords no means of transit from the ground below; so that on +that side the place is absolutely impregnable." + +"I see." Anstice's tone held a note of relief. "Well, that sounds fairly +promising--as I suppose it means there are only three sides to defend +instead of four." + +"Well, it is a circular building," Sir Richard explained, "and there are +only slits in the walls on two sides; and also, fortunately for us, only +one means of entrance or exit, in the shape of a massive door which +could hardly be forced without a charge of dynamite. It was the +stronghold, so I gather, of a kind of robber chief in the old days, and +doubtless was built to resist possible assaults from lawless tribesmen. +But there is one weak spot in the building--one or rather two places +which are a decided menace to any defence." + +"And those----" + +"Well, it seems this French artist, Massenet by name, sought and +obtained permission from the authorities who leased him the building to +throw out a couple of windows in the upper floor which enabled him to +convert the place into a very passable studio. He was a rich man--son of +a well-known Paris banker, and the cost did not intimidate him. But the +result is that those two big windows, which only boast the flimsiest of +sand-shutters, are, without a doubt, capable of being made into means of +entry, provided, of course, that the defenders within are short of +ammunition or are unable to construct efficient barricades." + +"I see. I suppose they are a fair height from the ground?" + +"Yes--but there are such things as ladders," said Sir Richard dryly. "Of +course a mere handful of men, given a sufficiency of ammunition, might +keep an attacking party at bay almost indefinitely. But I'm afraid our +supply of munitions is somewhat scanty, and with women--and children--to +defend----" He broke off suddenly as the native began to speak. + +"You go a-back, bring help, bring many gentlemens. Me and the Effendi +take care of ladees ... but you go quick--bring the soldiermans...." He +stopped, as though at the end of his suggestions. + +"Yes." Sir Richard's face lighted up. "I see what he means. Anstice, you +or I must make all speed back to Cairo and fetch out some soldiers. The +barracks swarm with them, and if I know them they'll jump at the chance +of a little scrap like this. With luck you'd be back in three +days--less, if you pushed your horses--and by God I believe we could +hold the Fort till then!" + +As he finished the native nodded his head as though in approval of the +plan; but suddenly his expressive features lengthened, and he said +something in a lower tone to Sir Richard in which the words "_El Hakim_" +occurred more than once. + +Sir Richard listened restively, and uttered an exclamation of annoyance. + +"Well, well, there's no need to repeat it so often! Anstice, this fellow +points out that after all I had better be the one to go for help, as he +says your aid is urgently required at the Fort. Besides Cheniston, who +seems, from what I can gather, to be in about the same state as before, +Garnett got wounded last night when the besiegers tried to force an +entrance, and I suppose the sooner you get to them the better." + +"Well, there's something in that," conceded Anstice, reluctant to deepen +the disappointment in Sir Richard's face. "You see, sir, the sooner I +fix up Cheniston the better--but why shouldn't this fellow go and fetch +help instead of you?" + +Sir Richard's eyes brightened, but after another colloquy with the Arab +his former air of dejection returned. + +"He says--confound him--that the authorities in Cairo would pay more +attention to me than to him--and I suppose he's not far wrong. Also he +points out that with his knowledge of the land and of the language he +would be of more use to the garrison"--he used the word half +ashamedly--"than I, who know little of either. His plan is for me to +return immediately with all possible speed to fetch help, while you and +he seek, under cover of night, to enter the Fort, a task which I +gather," said Sir Richard grimly, "is not altogether devoid of risk." + +Anstice said nothing, but his mouth was set in a hard line which +betokened ill for anyone who attempted to bar his way into that same +Fort, and with a half-strangled sigh Sir Richard continued his speech. + +"It seems on the whole the best plan, though God knows it's hard to turn +round and leave my only daughter in this damned hole. Still, I see the +logic of the thing, and if you are willing to go forward, why, there's +nothing left for me but to turn back." + +"I'll go forward all right," replied Anstice quietly. "And if you will +trust me, I will do my best to carry on until you arrive with +reinforcements." + +"In that case I'll go at once," said Sir Richard more briskly. "Which is +the better horse? Yours, I think--and if so I'll take it and hurry back +to Cairo. But first let's have a look at the provisions--I'm a tough old +fellow and can do without a lot of stuff, but I daren't risk failing on +the way. Luckily we are lavishly provided." + +Hearing this speech the Arab smiled gleefully and produced from some +mysterious recess in his robe a square package, tied with string, and +handed it, still smiling, to Sir Richard, who took it with a rather +mystified expression. + +"It's food--what you call grub," explained Hassan proudly. "The ladees +make it--say it carry the Effendi back to _le Caire_"--in common with +many Arabs he gave the city its French name--"and it _good_ grub too!" + +Sir Richard slipped the packet into his pocket with a rather uncertain +smile, and turned to the matter of transit without loss of time. + +Anstice's horse was the fresher of the two, and it was decided that Sir +Richard should start at once, and when at a safe distance dismount and +rest until moonrise, after which the night hours might profitably be +spent in journeying onwards, since night-riding in the desert is +infinitely preferable to riding by day. + +"With luck you should make Cairo very early on the day after to-morrow," +said Anstice, who had been making a calculation. "And if you could get +started again without loss of time you could be here in just under three +days. But that would mean hard riding, I'm afraid----" + +"I'm pretty tough," said Sir Richard again. "And after all you'll have +the harder part. I suppose"--he turned to Hassan--"I suppose there is no +possibility of getting help nearer than Cairo--no village or settlement +to which I might apply?" + +No, Hassan opined, it was of no use seeking help elsewhere. The one or +two native villages within call were quite inadequate to render +assistance, and to apply to them would be a loss of time which would +have no practical result. + +When once Sir Richard was assured of the impossibility of procuring help +nearer than Cairo he wasted no further time in discussion, but mounted +his horse with a businesslike air and proceeded to take leave of Anstice +with a heartiness which but thinly disguised his real and gnawing +anxiety. + +"I will make all possible speed," he said, as he settled himself +sturdily in his saddle. "And with luck three days should see me back. In +the meantime"--for a moment his voice faltered, but he pulled himself +together pluckily--"I leave my girl in your care. And I know"--Sir +Richard spoke very slowly--"I know you will guard her, if need be, with +your life...." + +"Thank you for your trust, Sir Richard." In Anstice's hand-grip Sir +Richard read the measure of his resolve. "I will not fail you--nor your +daughter--so long as I am alive." + +Sir Richard wrung his hand, tried to speak, and failed, utterly, to +articulate a syllable. But the look which the two men exchanged spoke +more eloquently than words, and Sir Richard, as he rode away on his +mission, knew that so far as mortal man might compass success his +daughter's safety was assured at this man's hands. + + * * * * * + +When Sir Richard had ridden away, sitting squarely in his saddle, with +never a backward look, Anstice turned to Hassan. + +"Now," he said, "how do we proceed? I mean"--he remembered that the man +understood little English--"do we go straight back to the village--and +what do we do with this horse?" + +Hassan's explanation was necessarily somewhat unintelligible, being +couched in a polyglot mixture of French and English, with a few words of +Arabic thrown in, but by dint of patient inquiry Anstice presently made +out the drift of his involved speech. Briefly, his plan was as follows. + +It would be useless, so Hassan asserted, to attempt to return to the +village and enter the Fort until darkness covered the land. The +Bedouins, it seemed, already surrounded the place so that Hassan's +escape had been a matter of some difficulty, and it would be necessary +to proceed cautiously, with careful strategy, in order to re-enter the +place in safety. + +When once it was comparatively dark--if possible before the moon +rose--the attempt must be made; and in the meantime Hassan considered +the wisest thing to do was to shelter somewhere and rest in preparation +for the evening's adventures. + +The horse, he decided, must be turned loose outside the village. The +Bedouins, as he pointed out, would be likely to snap up readily a horse +of such good appearance, and in any case Hassan was plainly of the +opinion that a horse's existence was of very little importance when +graver matters were at stake. + +Although, as an Englishman, Anstice was inclined to rate the horse's +value as a living creature more highly than the Arab was disposed to do, +he saw the reason of the plan, and agreed to follow Hassan's advice in +every particular. + +Having come to this wise resolve, he invited Hassan to choose a place +where the time of waiting might be passed, and the native deciding on a +little sandy hollow between two low, round-backed hills, he proceeded to +ensconce himself more or less comfortably on the loose and drifting +sand, and prepared to endure the waiting-time with what patience he +might. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +"Dr. Anstice! Is it really--_you_?" + +Iris stood opposite to him with an expression of wondering surprise in +her wide grey eyes, and as he held her hand in his Anstice noted the +beating of a little blue vein in her temple--a sure sign, with this +girl, of some inward agitation which could not be altogether concealed. + +"Yes. It is really I." Although he spoke calmly he was to the full as +agitated as she, and he could not keep his eager eyes from studying her +face, in which he found a dozen new beauties for which their separation +had not prepared him. She was a little thinner than he remembered her, +but the African sun had kissed her fine skin so warmly that any pallor +which might well distinguish her in these troublous days was effectually +disguised. + +With an effort he relinquished her hand and spoke with well-simulated +indifference. + +"It was by the merest chance that Sir Richard and I met in Port Said," +he said. "I was taking a holiday--the first I've had for years"--he +smiled--"and was only too glad to see a familiar face in a strange +land." + +"And you have given up your holiday to come to our help," she said in a +low voice. "You don't know how thankful I am to see you--but for your +own sake I wish you had not come." + +"That's rather unkind," he said, with a smile. "Here have I been +flattering myself that you would welcome me--well, warmly--and you as +good as tell me I am not wanted!" + +"Indeed I did not mean that." She too smiled, but quickly grew grave +again. "If you only knew _how_ glad I am to see you. We--we are in +rather a bad way here, you know, Dr. Anstice, and--and your help will be +valuable in more ways than one." + +"I hope it may prove so," he said. Anstice and Hassan had made a +perilous, but successful, entry into the little Fort, pursued, it is +true, by a shower of bullets, for the Bedouins were armed with a strange +collection of weapons, ranging from antique long-barrelled guns to +modern rifles. "May I see him at once? The sooner the better, as I am +here at last." + +"Yes. I want you to see him as soon as possible." Iris hesitated, and in +her eyes was the shadow of a haunting dread. "You will find him very +ill, I am afraid. We have done what we could--Mrs. Wood has been +splendid--but he doesn't seem to get any better. Of course in ordinary +circumstances we should not have dared to move him, but we had to do it, +and I am sure it has been very bad for him." + +"Well, we must see what we can do now," said Anstice in as reassuring a +tone as he could muster. "Where is he? On this floor, I suppose?" + +"Yes. Next door. One of the rooms which the artist used is furnished, +more or less, as a bedroom, and it is fairly comfortable. The other +rooms--this and the ones downstairs--are almost empty except for a few +chairs and a kind of bench we use for a table." + +"I see." Anstice looked round the room, noting the rough stone walls, +the ancient, uneven floor, uncovered by so much as a piece of matting; +and then his glance returned to the large modern window which looked so +incongruous in its mediaeval setting. + +The room into which a moment later Iris showed him was of the same shape +and size as the one they had just quitted; and boasted the second of the +windows which might, were help too long delayed, prove the undoing of +the little garrison. It was, however, roughly furnished, though it was +evident that the Frenchman, for all his reputed wealth, had been no +Sybarite by inclination. The bed was of a common pattern, and the few +other things scattered about on the scantily matted floor were of the +most primitive description. + +As a room for an invalid the apartment certainly left much to be +desired; but Anstice did not waste time over his surroundings. He moved +quickly towards the bed; and stood looking down upon the man who lay +thereon in silence. + +And as he looked at the wreck of the once gallant Bruce Cheniston, his +heart sank within him; for if ever Death had printed his sign-manual on +a living man's face, it was written here too legibly for even an +untrained eye to miss its significance. + +Cheniston was wasted to a shadow by fever and suffering. From his +haggard face his sunken eyes looked out with an expression of anguish +which was surely mental as well as physical; and though he evidently +recognized his visitor, he was too weak to do more than move one +fleshless hand an inch or two towards Anstice by way of greeting. + +Hiding the shock Cheniston's appearance had given him as well as he +might, Anstice sat down beside the bed and took the painfully thin hand +in his own. + +"Cheniston, I'm sorry to see you in such a bad way." He spoke very +gently, his eyes on the other's face the while. "It was hard luck +falling ill out here--but I've brought up several things from Cairo that +will give you relief in no time." + +Over Cheniston's face flitted the ghost of a smile; and his voice, when +he replied, gave Anstice a fresh shock, so thready and devoid of all +tone was it. + +"Thanks--very much--Anstice." He spoke slowly, with spaces between the +words. "I'm very ill--I know--I think I'm going--to peg out--but I can't +bear--to think--of Iris." + +He stopped, quite exhausted by the effort of speech; and Anstice, more +moved than he cared to show, laid the thin hand back on the bed, and +took his patient's temperature, his heart sinking still lower as he read +the thermometer's unimpeachable testimony. + +Strive as he might, he could not rid himself of a fear that Bruce +Cheniston's earthly race was ran; and catching sight of Iris' face as +she stood on the opposite side of the bed, he felt, with a quick +certainty, that she too realized that only by a miracle could her +husband be restored to the health and vigour to which his young manhood +surely entitled him. + +"Come, Cheniston," he said presently, in answer to Bruce's last words, +"you mustn't talk of pegging out. You have been bad, I can see that, but +you know dozens of travellers in Egypt enjoy a taste of enteric and come +through it as good as new. You got this through drinking polluted water, +I understand?" + +"Yes." Bruce smiled, haggardly, once more. "Too bad, wasn't it, that +after playing with water ever since I came out here it should turn on me +in the end. Serves me right--for--trusting an Arab--I suppose." + +His voice died weakly away; and Anstice gently bade him keep quiet for a +while. + +"No use talking and exciting yourself," he said, for he could see the +other's stock of strength was lamentably small. "Lie still and allow me +to talk over affairs with Mrs. Cheniston--we will put our heads together +and evolve some plan for your benefit." He hardly knew what he said, so +filled was his heart with a pity in which now there was no faintest +tinge of resentment for the unfair bargain which this man had once +driven with him. + +With a sigh Cheniston closed his eyes, and appeared to relapse once more +into a kind of stupor; and when, in obedience to a silent gesture, Iris +withdrew to the window, Anstice joined her there immediately. + +Such remedies as yet remained to be tried Anstice determined to employ; +but though he told himself fiercely that if mortal man could save Bruce +Cheniston from the grave he should assuredly be saved, he experienced +that hopeless feeling which all who gaze in the very face of death know +only too well; and he did not dare to meet Iris' eyes as he conversed +with her in a carefully-lowered tone. + +"I'll sit up to-night, Mrs. Cheniston, and you must try to get some +sleep. I suppose"--he broke off suddenly, remembering the position in +which they stood--"I suppose some of you watch--for the enemy"--he +laughed with something of an effort--"every night?" + +"Yes. I don't think we any of us slept last night," said Iris quietly. +"You see we are so short-handed--only Mr. Wood and Mr. Garnett and +Hassan know anything about fire-arms; and Mrs. Wood and I, and Rosa, +Mrs. Wood's nurse, have been busy looking after Bruce and little Molly +Wood." + +"Of course. Well, I think the first thing to do, after I have given Mr. +Cheniston this"--he had been mixing something in a little glass as he +spoke--"is to meet and hold a council of war, with a view to the most +useful disposition of our forces. After all"--he spoke more lightly, so +keen was his desire to see her look less anxious--"we are not by any +means a force to be despised. We have four able-bodied men among us; and +this place, from what I can gather, looks pretty impregnable, on one +side at least." + +"Yes. Even Mr. Garnett admits that the Bedouins could hardly swarm up +that rocky wall," said Iris, with a slightly more cheerful air. "And of +course, too, we have not got to hold out indefinitely; for if my father +reaches Cairo in good time we may have the relieving force here in less +than three days." + +"Of course we may!" His tone was resolutely optimistic. "Now, as soon as +Mr. Cheniston drinks this we'll set to work." + +He approached the bed, and having with some difficulty roused Cheniston +from his stupor, administered the dose deftly; after which he turned to +Iris once more. + +"You spoke of a nurse just now. Who is she?" + +"Oh, she is only a children's nurse, and rather a broken reed at the +best of times," said Iris ruefully. "She had hysterics all last night, +but she's a bit more sensible to-day." + +"Hysterics or no, she can keep watch for half an hour," said Anstice +rather grimly. "Suppose you find her and send her to me. Would you +mind?" + +"I'll go at once." Iris turned towards the door, and Anstice noted with +a pang at his heart that she was certainly thinner and moved with less +buoyancy than of old. "You--you won't be too severe with her, Dr. +Anstice? After all, she is only a young girl, and she has gone through +quite a lot since yesterday morning!" + +"Oh, I won't bite her head off," said Anstice, with a short laugh of +genuine amusement. "But we have no use for hysterical young women here; +and no doubt when she understands that she will amend her ways." + +"Very well. I will go and find her." With a last look towards the bed +Iris vanished; and for a brief moment Anstice was left alone, to wonder +at the strange and unexpected situation in which he now found himself, +shut up in this lonely building in the heart of the desert with a +handful of souls for whose safety he could not but feel himself largely +responsible. + +He did not attempt to disguise from himself that the outlook was +decidedly unpromising. Even though Sir Richard reached Cairo without +mishap, some time must necessarily elapse before he could gather +together what Iris had called the relieving force; and although Anstice +had no reason to doubt the staunchness and courage of his +fellow-defenders, he could not fail to realize that as a fighting unit +they were altogether outmatched by the two or three score of enemies who +were by now, apparently, thirsting savagely for their blood. + +Then, too, the shadow of death already hovered over the little garrison; +and as Anstice turned once more to survey the pale and wasted features +of the man who had supplanted him in the one supreme desire of his life, +he told himself that it would be a miracle if Bruce Cheniston lived long +enough to see the arrival of the help on which so much depended. + +"If I had got here a week--three days ago, I might have done something," +he told himself rather hopelessly. "But now I'm very much afraid it is +too late. He is going to die, I'm pretty sure of that, though I hope to +God I may be mistaken; and heaven only knows what will happen in the +course of the next three days." + +As he reached this point in his meditations a voice in his ear made him +start; and turning, he beheld a pale and distraught-looking young woman +who might in happier circumstances have laid claim to a certain +uninspired prettiness. At this moment, however, her eyes red-rimmed with +lack of sleep, her ashy-coloured hair limp and dishevelled round her +unintellectual forehead, she was rather a piteous object; and in spite +of his resolve to speak bracingly to her Anstice's voice was quite +gentle as he replied to her murmured question. + +"Yes, I am Dr. Anstice, and I want you to be good enough to sit here and +look after Mr. Cheniston while I talk over matters with the other +gentlemen." + +"Yes, sir." She cast a swift look at the bed, and then hastily averted +her pale-brown eyes. "Mr. Cheniston--he--he won't die, will he, sir? I +mean, not immediate, like?" + +"No, he will not die immediately," said Anstice reassuringly. "All you +have to do is to sit here, beside the bed"--he had noticed how she kept +her distance from the aforesaid bed, and placed her in the chair he had +vacated with a firm pressure there was no resisting--"and watch Mr. +Cheniston carefully. If he shows signs of waking come for me. But don't +disturb him in any way. You understand?" + +The girl said, rather whimperingly, that she did; and with a last glance +at Cheniston, who still lay sunk in a dreary stupor, Anstice went +quietly from the room in search of his comrades in misfortune. + +He found them in the room in which he had first seen Iris; and he joined +the conclave without loss of time. + +"Oh, here you are!" Iris broke off in the middle of a sentence and came +forward. "Mrs. Wood, this is Dr. Anstice; and this"--she turned to a +tall, clean-shaven man dressed, rather unconventionally, in the clothes +of a clergyman--"is Mr. Wood. Here is Mr. Garnett, and that is all, with +the exception of Molly." + +She drew forward a child of about Cherry Carstairs' age, a pale, fragile +child in whose face Anstice read plainly the querulousness of an +inherited delicacy of constitution. + +"She ought really to be asleep," said Mrs. Wood, a short, rather +good-looking woman of a florid type, whose subdued voice and air were at +variance with the cheerful outline of her features. "But somehow night +and day have got mixed up at present--in fact, my watch has stopped, and +I don't know what time it is." + +"It is just ten o'clock, Mrs. Wood." It was Roger Garnett who +volunteered the information; and as Anstice turned to discover what +manner of man the speaker might be he was relieved to find that the +young Australian wore an unmistakably militant air. He was of average +height, with powerful shoulders; and in his blue eyes burned a lust for +battle which was in no way diminished by the fact that his left arm was +bound up just below the elbow. + +"Brute dotted me one there," he explained casually as he saw Anstice's +glance fall on the bandage. "Thought at first he'd broken a bone, but he +hadn't. It was only a flesh wound, and Mrs. Wood did it up in the most +approved St. John style!" + +"I'll look at it for you presently, if you like," said Anstice, "though +it appears to be most scientifically bandaged. Now, what I should like +to know is this. Did these fellows attack you last night? They did? At +what time--and in what force did they come?" + +"It was just before dawn--the recognized time for a night attack, eh?" +Garnett's blue eyes twinkled. "They thought it was going to be a soft +job, I believe; but they had apparently forgotten that the door was +pretty well impregnable, thanks to the jolly old bandit, or whatever he +was, who used to retire here with his doubtless ill-gotten gains! And as +they had forgotten to provide themselves with any means of reaching +these windows the attack failed, so to speak." + +"I gather you were looking out? Any casualties?" Anstice put the +question coolly; and young Garnett grinned. + +"Yes, siree--one for which by the grace of God I may consider myself +responsible. They were all arguing in the courtyard below when I gave +them a kind of salute from up here, and by gosh, you should have seen +the beggars scatter! One of them got it in the thigh, at least so I +deduce from the fact that he had to be assisted away, groaning!" + +"They didn't return?" + +"No. Clambered over the wall and made tracks for home, sweet home +instanter." + +"To tell you the truth, Dr. Anstice"--it was Mr. Wood who spoke, and +Anstice turned quickly towards him--"I do not myself believe that they +will attack us again at present. They have now found it impossible to +force an entrance unseen; and I should not be surprised if their plan of +campaign included waiting, and trying to starve us out. A policy of +masterly inaction, so to speak." + +"Do you know, I rather agree with the Padre," said Garnett thoughtfully. +"Of course they have not a notion that we have sent for help; and though +they saw Dr. Anstice arrive with Hassan, it is quite possible that in +the dusk they thought it was one of us who had made a futile sortie with +the Arab." + +"I daresay you are right," said Anstice thoughtfully. "But I suppose you +do not propose we should relax our vigilance on that account?" + +"No." Mr. Wood looked keenly at the speaker, and appeared reassured by +something he read in the other's face. "Last night we watched both this +window and that of the other room--the one where Mr. Cheniston is +lying----" + +"It is unfortunate that he should be in one of the rooms where there is +a possibility of trouble," said Anstice, rather worried by the notion. +"I suppose the others are really uninhabitable?" + +"Well, there is no possibility of admitting sufficient air," said Mrs. +Wood practically. "There is a little hole where we snatch a moment's +rest now and then, but for a man with fever----" + +"No, I suppose he must stay where he is." Anstice genuinely regretted +the necessity. "The only thing to do is to try to draw the enemy's fire +to the other window, if occasion arises. Now, how do we divide our +forces? Mrs. Cheniston"--he spoke the name firmly now--"you, I suppose, +will watch your husband, and if I may suggest that I take the window in +that room under my charge--Hassan might be at hand to take my place when +I'm occupied with Mr. Cheniston----" + +"Then Mr. Garnett and I will be responsible for the watch in this room," +said the clergyman quietly. "The others--my wife and Rosa--can take it +in turn to relieve Mrs. Cheniston. How does that plan strike you, Dr. +Anstice?" By common consent they began to look on Anstice as their +leader. + +"A very sensible plan," said Mrs. Wood quickly, "But I positively insist +upon Mrs. Cheniston having some sleep. She was up all night and has not +rested a moment to-day." + +"What about me, Mummy?" A rather fretful little voice interrupted the +speaker, as Molly pressed closely to her side. "What's me and Rosa going +to do? There isn't any beds and the bench is so hard!" + +"Poor kiddie!" Anstice's heart was touched by this lamentable wail. +"Suppose you let me see what I can do to make you a bed, Molly! I'm a +doctor, you know, and doctors know more about making beds than ordinary +people!" + +The child regarded him with lack-lustre eyes which were quite devoid of +any childish gaiety; and for a moment she appeared to revolve the +question in her mind. Finally she decided that he was to be trusted, for +she nodded her weary little head and put her thin, hot hand into the one +he extended to her. + +"The room opposite to this is our bedroom," said Iris, with a faint +smile. "Shall I come too, Molly, and show Dr. Anstice where to find the +things?" + +"Yes. You come too." The other moist hand sought Iris' cooler one; and +between them they led the poor child into the room Iris indicated. + +Here, with a little ingenuity, a bed was made up of chairs and cushions, +which Molly was too worn out to resist; and having seen her sink at once +into an uneasy slumber, the two returned to the larger room, where the +others still held whispered conclave. + +"Dr. Anstice"--Iris laid her hand on his arm, her voice full of the +sweetest contrition--"you have had nothing to eat and you must be +famished." + +"I'm not hungry," he assured her truthfully; but she refused to listen +to his protests; and calling Mrs. Wood to her assistance she soon had a +meal ready for him. Although the resources of the establishment were +limited to tinned food and coffee boiled over a little spirit stove, +Anstice was in no mood to criticize anything which Iris set before him. +Indeed he could hardly take his eyes from her as she ministered to him; +and the food he ate might have been manna for anything he knew to the +contrary. + +Having finished his hasty meal and assured his kind hostesses that he +felt a hundred per cent better thereby, Anstice turned to Mr. Wood with +a new seriousness. + +"It is nearly eleven o'clock," he said, "and I suppose we should be +thinking of taking up our positions? If you and Mr. Garnett are ready, +I'll call Hassan to take charge of the other window for a little while, +and have a look at my patient yonder." + +The other men agreed; and Anstice left them stationing themselves at +their posts while he entered the next room and relieved the frightened +Rosa from her task of watching the invalid. + +As he approached Cheniston's side he saw that as yet no fatal change had +occurred. Bruce still lay in a kind of stupor, half-sleep, +half-unconsciousness; but his pulse was not perceptibly weaker, and for +a wild moment Anstice considered the possibility of his patient's +recovery--a possibility which, however, he dared hardly entertain as he +looked at the haggard face, the sunken eyes, the peeling lips. + +When Iris entered a minute or two later Anstice gave her a few +directions, bidding her call him immediately should Bruce awaken; and as +she acquiesced and sat down on the hard chair lately vacated by the +maid, Anstice looked at her with a feeling of rather helpless +compassion. + +"Mrs. Cheniston, I'm so awfully sorry to have to ask you to sit up. +You're worn out, I know, and I wish you could get some sleep." + +"Oh, don't bother about me!" She smiled up at him, and his heart +contracted within him at the look of fatigue in her face. "I'm immensely +strong, you know--and I can sleep to-morrow. Only"--the smile faded out +of her eyes, leaving them very sad--"do you think there is any +possibility of Bruce being better in the morning?" + +"Yes--he is no worse than when I saw him an hour or two ago," Anstice +assured her. "And in a bad case like this even a negative boon of that +kind is something to be thankful for." + +She looked at him again, rather wistfully this time; but he did not meet +her eyes; and presently he withdrew, leaving her to her lonely watch; +while he went to take up his vigil at the window in preparation for any +possible attack. + +But that night passed without adventure of any kind. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +It was on the afternoon of the following day that a new and serious +complication arose. + +The night had passed without incident of any kind; and shortly after +sunrise the little party met to compare notes of their respective +vigils. + +All through the night Anstice had come and gone by Cheniston's bedside; +but although there was no improvement in his patient's condition, +neither did he seem to have progressed any further into the grim Valley +of the Shadow; and although this extreme weakness and prostration were +ominous enough, Anstice still cherished that very faint, very timid hope +which had been born on the previous night. + +He had never wished so fervently for the power to save a life as in this +particular case. Gone was all remembrance of the former ill-feeling +between them, of the unfair and cruel bargain which this man had forced +upon him to the utter destruction of his life's happiness. He forgot +that Bruce Cheniston had been unjust, callous, a very Shylock in his +eager grasping of his pound of flesh; and he remembered only that this +man had won Iris' love, and thereby established his claim to any service +which the man who had also loved Iris might reasonably bestow. + +The fact that Iris must needs be adversely affected by her husband's +death was sufficient in itself to rouse his wish to save Cheniston's +life if that life could be saved; and during the day, when the vigil of +the little garrison might be relaxed, he was assiduous in his care of +the man who lay so desperately ill in the quiet room overlooking the +sun-baked desert. + +Only once Cheniston roused himself sufficiently to hold a few minutes' +laboured conversation with Anstice; and afterwards the latter was not +perfectly certain of Bruce's complete understanding of the words he +used. + +"Iris--how is she?" His voice was so weak that Anstice could barely hear +it; but he guessed what it was that the other man wished to ask; and +answered at once: + +"Mrs. Cheniston is quite well--only a little tired. She is lying down +for an hour, but if you want her I'll go and call her." + +"No. Don't disturb her," said Bruce feebly; and then, after a pause, he +uttered the words which, later, seemed to Anstice a reflection on his +perfect mental poise at the moment. "Poor little Iris--it wasn't fair to +marry her--I wish to God I'd left her--to you." + +For a minute Anstice sat silent, absolutely stunned by this +extraordinary statement; and before he could speak the weak voice began +again. + +"You loved her--so did I--in a way--but I've never really loved +anyone--but--Hilda Ryder." The unconscious pathos in his tone robbed the +words of all offence. "But she's a dear little soul--Iris--and I only +wish I'd not been beast enough--to marry her--to spite you----" The thin +voice trailed away into a whisper and Anstice spoke resolutely. + +"See here, Cheniston, you're ill and you don't know what you're saying. +Don't talk any more, there's a good chap. You only tire yourself out to +no purpose." + +But with the perversity of fever Cheniston would not be gainsaid. + +"I'm all--right." His hollow voice and laboured breath gave the lie to +his assertion. "But--if I die--and the rest of you get out +alive--you--you'll look after Iris, won't you? I wish you'd--marry +her--you'd be good to her--and she would soon--be fond--of you----" + +Somehow Anstice could bear no more. With a hasty movement he sprang up, +and in his voice was a decision against which Cheniston in his weakness +could not hope to prevail. + +"See here, Cheniston, you've just got to lie still and keep quiet. You +know"--his manner softened--"you're really not fit to talk. Do try to +get a little sleep--you'll feel so much stronger if you do." + +"I feel--very weak." He spoke with an evident effort, and Anstice +repented him of his vehemence. With a gentleness Iris herself could not +have surpassed he did all in his power to make Cheniston as easy as +possible; and when, presently, the latter relapsed into the stupor which +passed with him for sleep, Anstice left him, to go in search of Mrs. +Wood, who had promised to take charge of him for an hour or two. + +A few minutes later he encountered Garnett, walking moodily along the +uneven passage-way; and a new seriousness in the Australian's expressive +face gave Anstice pause. + +"What's up, eh? You look mighty solemn all of a sudden!" + +"I feel it, too." The younger man turned round and his eyes looked grim. +"Do you know what those damned Bedouins have been up to now? I believe, +and so does Hassan, that they've been poisoning the well out there"--he +pointed through the slit in the wall to the courtyard beneath--"and if +so we've not got a drop of water we can drink." + +"I don't believe it." Honestly he did not. Although he had no cause to +love the Oriental race he was loth to believe even an uncivilized foe +capable of such barbarity. + +"As sure as God made little apples, it's true." Garnett was in no wise +offended by Anstice's uncompromising rejoinder. "Hassan and I both +thought we saw a fellow sneaking in the courtyard last night--just +before dawn--when it was too mighty dark to see much; but as he sheered +off we didn't give the alarm. But it seems Hassan is pretty well +acquainted with their charming tricks, and he was suspicious from the +first." + +"But was this beggar prowling round by the well?" + +"We couldn't see much, but this morning Hassan investigated and found +footmarks on the sand leading directly to and from the well; and he is +convinced that is what the brute was doing." + +"How much water have we left?" + +"Well, that's the very devil of it," said Garnett ruefully "It seems we +had a fair quantity--you know it all has to be brought from that same +old well--but that silly little Rosa thought this morning that she'd +like a bath, so without asking permission she tipped it all into a kind +of tin tub there was on the premises and performed her ablutions +therein." + +"Well, I confess I don't blame her," said Anstice rather dryly. "I feel +as if I'd give a fiver for a bath myself--this damned sand makes one so +infernally gritty." + +"Just so--and the tin basin we wash in--in turns--isn't exactly +luxurious!" Garnett's eyes twinkled. "All the same, things look pretty +serious on the water question. We must have water--unfortunately the +desert thirst is no fancy picture--I'm like a lime-kiln myself at this +moment--but if the well is poisoned, and Hassan seems convinced it is, +we can't drink the water, can we?" + +"Certainly not." Anstice hoped his voice did not betray his dismay at +this disclosure. "Where's the nearest well--outside of here?" + +"Over in the village--or rather, there's one outside the village which +would be less public." Garnett laughed a little. "But I don't quite see +how we're going to fetch water from it. You know the beggars are keeping +a pretty smart lookout--and if they caught sight of one of us sallying +forth we'd be potted as sure as a gun. And every available man is wanted +here." + +"I suppose"--Anstice had been thinking--"I suppose it would be quite +impossible to get out by the rocky side? I mean could one possibly climb +down? The Bedouins don't seem to guard that side, and one would be in +the desert, well away from their band." + +"Yes--but I doubt if it would be feasible. Unless--what about a rope? I +saw a great coil of rope in one of the dungeons downstairs this +morning." A new alertness leaped into his bright eyes. "I say, let's go +and reconnoitre, shall we? It would be great to outwit the beasts after +all!" + +"Right! Where shall we go and scout?" + +"Place opposite--the only one with a decent-sized hole in the wall--have +to find a place one could squeeze through, I suppose--and I'm such an +infernally broad chap, too!" + +Anstice laughed. + +"Well, I'm pretty long," he said, still smiling. "Lead on, will you--oh, +this is the place, is it?" + +They had entered a small circular chamber which had evidently been used +for the purpose of scanning the desert far below in search of possible +foes; for the aperture in the wall which corresponded to a modern window +was much larger than any of the other slits in the building; and Anstice +and the Australian were able, by a little man[oe]uvring, to lean out +side by side and view the prospect beneath. + +"Pretty fair drop, eh?" From his tone Garnett was in no wise daunted by +the sight. + +"Yes--want a steady head. But it could be done," said Anstice +judicially. "A long rope--a precious long one, too--fastened to +something up here, and one could clamber down all right. And once down +it should be easy to skirt round to the well you mentioned. That's +settled, then, and since you're disabled"--he glanced at the other's +bandaged arm--"this is going to be my job." + +"Oh, I say, that's not fair!" The other's tone of indignation amused +Anstice even at that critical moment. "It was my suggestion, wasn't it? +Oh, I believe you did say something about it too ... but I think I ought +to be the one to go." + +"But your arm----" + +"Oh, damn my arm!" Garnett spoke vehemently. "It won't hurt it a +scrap--and honestly, I'd simply _love_ the job!" + +"I know you would--but really you'll have to let me do it." Anstice +spoke firmly, though he was sorry for the other man's disappointment. +"You see that arm of yours is badly hurt, though you won't own up to it; +and it might easily go back on you when you started using it. And if you +got stuck down there, we'd have no water, and be a man short here as +well." + +For another minute the Australian held out, arguing the point with a +kind of fiery eloquence which showed how keenly he desired to undertake +the adventure; but in the end he gave way, though he was too +unsophisticated entirely to hide his chagrin. + +"Then that's settled." Anstice dared not betray his sympathy any +further. "Now it remains to settle the details; and by the way, wouldn't +it be wise to keep it as quiet as possible? We don't want to alarm the +women." + +"Quite so." Garnett squared his shoulders and plunged pluckily into the +discussion. "I should suggest you go fairly early, as soon as the moon's +up--so that with luck you'd be back before the enemy start prowling +round. The well is a mile away, in a westerly direction." He pointed +as he spoke. "And there is not much cover when once you get fairly +out ... though I don't think there is a very great risk of the brutes +spotting you." + +"How long should it take me to get there and back?" + +"Well, walking over sand is not like walking on macadam," said Garnett +practically, "and I don't suppose you could do the job under an hour or +two. Besides, you may have to dodge the brutes now and then," he added +regretfully; and again Anstice could not refrain from smiling. + +"Well, that's settled, then. The moon rises about seven, doesn't it? And +if I get off soon after that----" + +"That would do tophole. And we can easily spin a yarn to the rest," said +Garnett more cheerfully. "In the meantime let's go and get something to +eat. I'm famished." + +The suggestion meeting with Anstice's approval they adjourned in search +of food; and found Iris coming to look for them with tidings of a meal. +When they had taken their seats at the improvised table, Iris quietly +withdrew; and Anstice guessed she had returned to her place by the side +of her husband--a place she had relinquished for an hour only during the +whole of the strenuous day. + +When, a little later, he went to see Cheniston again, he was dismayed to +find an ominous change in his patient. + +Bruce had indeed the air of a man at the point of death; and as he +looked at the wasted features, the sunken eyes, the grey shadows which +lay over the whole face, transforming it into a mere mask, Anstice told +himself bitterly that all his care had been in vain; that before morning +broke there would be one soul the less in their pitiful little company. + +He bent over the bed and spoke gently; but Cheniston was too ill to pay +any heed; and with a sigh Anstice stood upright and turned to Iris +rather helplessly. + +"Mrs. Cheniston"--he forced himself to speak truthfully--"I am afraid +your husband is no better. In fact"--he hesitated, hardly knowing how to +put his fears into words--"I think--perhaps--you must be prepared for +the worst." + +"You mean he will die?" She spoke steadily, though her eyes looked +suddenly afraid. "Dr. Anstice, is there no hope? Can _you_ do nothing +more for him?" + +"There is so little to be done," he said. "Believe me, I have tried +every means in my power, but you know my resources here are so limited, +and in those surroundings--if I had been here a week earlier, I might +have done something; but as things are----" + +"Oh, I know--I know you have done all you could!" She feared her words +had sounded ungracious. "Only--Bruce is so young--he has never been ill +before----" + +"Ah, yes, but everything has been against him--the climate for one +thing--and of course the forced removal was about the last thing he +should have had to endure." Anstice longed to comfort her as she stood +before him, looking oddly young and wistful in her distress, but honesty +forbade him to utter words of hope, knowing as he did what might well +take place during the coming night. + +"You think he will die--to-night?" Her eyes, tearless as they were, +demanded the truth; and after a secondary hesitation Anstice replied +candidly: + +"I am very much afraid he may." He turned aside when he had spoken, that +he might not see her face; and for a long moment there was a silence +between them which Anstice, for one, could not have broken. + +Then Iris sighed very faintly. + +"If that is so, you--you won't leave us, will you? I think--I could bear +it better if you were here." + +Anstice's vehement promise to stay with her was suddenly cut short as he +remembered the venture which was planned for the early hours of the +coming night; and Iris' quick wits showed her that some project was +afoot which would prevent him comforting her by his constant presence. +Yet so sore was her need of him, so ardently did she desire the solace +which he alone could bring her, that she was moved to a wistful entreaty +that was strangely unlike herself. + +"Dr. Anstice, you--you will stay? If--if anything happens to Bruce, I +shall be so--so lonely----" + +Never had Anstice so rebelled against the fate which had given her to +another man as in this moment when she stood before him, her face pale +with dread, her wide eyes filled with something not unlike absolute +terror as she faced the coming shadow which was to engulf her life. He +would have given the world to have the right to take her in his arms, to +kiss the colour back to those white cheeks, the security to the +quivering mouth. This was the first favour she had ever asked at his +hands, the first time she had thrown herself, as it were, on his mercy; +and he must refuse her even the meagre boon she asked of him. + +But Anstice was only mortal; and he could not refuse without giving her +the true reason of his refusal, although he and Garnett had agreed that +the undertaking of the night should be kept a secret lest the rest of +the little party be rendered nervous and uncomfortable by his absence. +The feelings of the other women were nothing to him, compared with those +of the girl he still loved with all the strength of his soul and heart; +and he could not have borne to let her think him callous, regardless of +her fears, content to leave her to pass through what must be one of the +darkest hours of her life alone. + +Very gently he told her of the discovery Garnett and Hassan had made; +with the subsequent unhappy certainty of a water famine; and Iris had +been in Egypt long enough to know that in this desert waste of sun and +sand the lack of water and its attendant evil, thirst, were the most +fruitful sources of tragedy in the Egyptian land. + +"You mean there is no water left?" She spoke very quietly, and he +answered her in the same tone. + +"No--at least barely a bottleful. The rest was used for making coffee +for us all just now. And this remaining drop must be reserved for your +husband, in case he calls for it. Besides, there is to-morrow----" He +stopped short, with a tragic foreboding that there would be no morrow on +earth for the man who lay dying beneath their eyes. + +"Yes. As you say, there is to-morrow. And"--her voice was low--"I +suppose there is no hope of rescue before to-morrow night at earliest?" + +"I am afraid not before the following dawn." Somehow he could not lie to +Iris. "And since we must have water it is plain one of us must go and +get it." + +"Go? Outside the Fort?" Her face blanched still further. "But it--would +be madness to venture out--you would be seen--and shot--at once...." + +"Ah, but you haven't heard the plan Garnett and I have evolved!" He +spoke more lightly, though his voice was still low. "Listen, and tell me +if you approve of our strategy!" + +He rapidly outlined their plan of campaign, making as light of the +perils of the undertaking as possible; and Iris listened breathlessly, +her eyes on his face the while. + +When he had finished she spoke very quietly. + +"Dr. Anstice, I think it is a terribly reckless thing to attempt, and if +I thought only of myself--or of you--I should beg you not to go. But as +you say, there are the others--the child for one--and if help should be +delayed the lack of water would be--serious." + +"So you approve the plan?" He felt unreasonably glad that she did not +altogether condemn the idea, since, as go he must, he would certainly go +more happily with her approval. + +"I shall be terribly anxious all the while," she said simply, "but you +are a brave man. Dr. Anstice, and I do not believe God will let you +suffer for your courage." + +"Then I am to go? You will not mind being left alone?" + +"No. I think--perhaps--I shall be a little--afraid--if Bruce dies while +you are gone"--a shiver passed through her as she spoke the fatal +words--"but I will try to be brave." + +"Mrs. Wood will come and sit here with you," said Anstice quickly; but +Iris shook her head. + +"No, she is asleep just now, and I won't awaken her. You know she has +been so anxious about poor little Molly to-day." The child had indeed +been feverish and ailing of late. "But after all, we may be alarming +ourselves unnecessarily, mayn't we? You--you're not _certain_ that Bruce +will die?" + +And because he could not bear to see the terror in her face, hear the +quiver of dread in her voice, Anstice lied at last. + +"No--I may be wrong after all," he said. "In any case I am not going +yet. I will stay here till the last possible moment. Look--his eyes are +open--come and sit here, where he can see you without moving his head." + +And as she obeyed without a word Anstice took up his own position +opposite to her where he could watch every change in the grey face of +the man who had once been his enemy, but was now only a fellow-creature +in the grip of the mightiest enemy of all. + + * * * * * + +It was nearly ten o'clock before Anstice started on his perilous +adventure. + +Shortly before the time fixed for his departure little Molly Wood had +been taken alarmingly ill, with severe pains in her head and a high +temperature, and Anstice had spent an anxious hour beside her improvised +bed before he had the satisfaction of seeing her sink into a quiet sleep +beneath the remedies he employed, and when, leaving the distracted +mother to watch her slumbers, he had crept into Cheniston's room, he had +found Bruce still desperately ill, and Iris paler and yet more wan +beneath the stress of the position in which she found herself. + +It was only the imperative need of water which nerved Anstice to leave +her alone, but he knew perfectly well that it would be impossible to +procure any water in daylight, and though Mr. Wood would certainly have +volunteered to make the attempt in his place, had he known the +circumstances, Anstice had discovered, by a casual word let drop by his +wife, that the clergyman suffered from a long-standing weakness of the +heart which would have prevented him carrying through the project +successfully. + +Plainly he must be the one to go, for Hassan, whom they had been forced, +through stress of circumstance, to take into their confidence, had +absolutely refused to brave the perils of the journey and the dangling +rope, and since he must be back at his post as soon after midnight as +possible, Anstice steeled his heart and bade Iris good-bye with a +stoical calm which did not deceive her in the least. + +"Keep up your courage, Mrs. Cheniston." He laid his hand gently on her +arm. "I'll be back in an hour or so--and in the meantime, if there +should be any change, you will do exactly as I have told you." He had +already given her full directions. "Remember, no one but Mr. Garnett and +Hassan knows of my absence, so don't be surprised if I'm supposed to be +asleep somewhere." + +"No. But"--she put her own right hand over his as he gently clasped her +arm--"you're sure there is no one but you to go? Is Mr. Wood too old?" + +"No--but his heart is affected, and the climb would be dangerous. And +Hassan, though he's behaved like a brick up to now, funks the climb." +His tone was good-naturedly contemptuous. "As for Garnett, he's longing +to go--can't quite forgive me for shoving him out--but his arm won't +stand it; so plainly I am the one to go." + +"Then go--and God be with you," she said very gently, and in her eyes +Anstice saw once again the look of mingled strength and tenderness whose +possibility he had divined long ago on the occasion of their first +meeting on that sunlit morning on the steps of Cherry Orchard. + + * * * * * + +And with the words ringing in his ears he set forth upon his quest. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +It was a perfect moonlight night, and as he swung himself out over the +rocky precipice, which was surely more formidable at close quarters than +it had appeared from above, Anstice was conscious of a sudden wild +exhilaration which sent the blood coursing like quicksilver through his +veins. + +He knew very well that he was embarking upon a perilous adventure which +might easily end in disaster, for he had no delusions on the subject of +his probable fate did he fall into the hands of the vengeful Bedouins. +But somehow, as he swung between earth and heaven, the rope slipping +with almost uncomfortable rapidity through his fingers, he felt no fear, +only a joyous thrill which strongly resembled the boyish glee with +which, in his school-days, he had taken part in many midnight adventures +strictly hidden from the notice of the authorities. + +His former proficiency in gymnastics and his natural love of climbing +stood him in good stead. He had never been addicted to nerves, had never +known what it was to experience any vertigo or attacks of giddiness when +exploring some dizzy height or negotiating some mountain ledge, and he +swung down the rope which was his only support as coolly as though he +were practising in a gymnasium, with no risk, did he fall, of being +dashed to death against the unfriendly rocks below. + +In an incredibly short space of time he reached the ground, and after +giving three gentle tugs upon the rope--the preconceived signal that all +was well with him--he looked cautiously round him to take his bearings +before proceeding on his journey. + +He stood now in a kind of rocky valley, ringed round with caves--whether +tombs or not he could not pretend to judge--but beyond the valley lay +the desert over which he must pass, and he lost no time in clambering +over the rooks and setting foot on the firm brown sand without. + +By the aid of his small compass he located the direction in which the +well lay, and then, restoring it to his pocket and making certain that +the goat-skin water-bottle was firmly slung over his shoulder, he set +off at a brisk pace which should, if possible, shorten the time of his +absence from the Fort by a few precious moments at least. + +He had never before been alone in the desert at night, and the +strangeness of it gripped him by the throat as he strode steadily +onwards. He could not believe, at first, that he was really alone. It +seemed incredible that in all that huge expanse of sand he should be the +only moving, living being, yet, though he knew that there _were_ living +creatures in the desert--jackals and other prowling things, and a whole +host of bats and tiny insects--they gave no sign of their presence, and +it seemed to him that he was the only live thing in a dead world.... + +Yet the air, as it blew gently round him, was soft and sweet. A group of +palm trees rustled deliciously as he passed by; and above his head the +big silver stars seemed to look down on him with a friendly, benignant +gaze as though they knew and approved the errand which brought him out +there, alone in the moonlit desert. + +When once he had conquered the instinctive feeling of something like +nervousness which made him look now and again half fearfully over his +shoulder as he walked, he began to enjoy this uncommon pilgrimage. + +His spirits rose, he felt a wild inclination to sing and shout with +glee--an inclination hastily checked by the remembrance that after all +the Bedouin village was not far away, though hidden for the moment by +the merciful palm trees--and he told himself exultantly that the +devilish revenge of the Bedouins who had poisoned the well in the +courtyard of the Fort was only an empty menace after all. + +Only when he thought of Bruce Cheniston, dying in that barely-furnished +room, far away from any of the luxuries and ease-bringing contrivances +with which civilization smooths the path of her children to the grave, +did his leaping exultation die down in his heart, and he walked more +soberly as he told himself that it was probable he would not see Bruce +Cheniston alive again. + +It was in the moment in which he realized this fact that another thought +struck Anstice for the first time, and the sheer blinding radiance of +that thought made him catch his breath and stand still in the desert, +absolutely oblivious to any risks which he might run from Bedouins or +other prowling marauders were he to be observed. + +He had suddenly realized that were Cheniston to die Iris would once more +be free--free to marry another man did she so desire; and the very idea +of that freedom set his heart knocking against his ribs in a positive +fury of wild and tumultuous feeling. + +Never--he was thankful to remember it now--never had the thought so much +as crossed his mind as he ministered to Cheniston, doing all in his +power to defeat the grim foe who held the young man so firmly in his +clutches. He had spared no pains, had given himself up body and soul to +the task of saving Bruce Cheniston's life, were it possible for that +life to be saved, and he was glad to know, looking back, that he had +never for one second contemplated the possibility of any benefit +accruing to himself through the other man's death. Even should he find, +on his return, that Cheniston had indeed slipped into another world +during his absence, he could always assure himself that he had not +sullied the last strenuous hours in which he had fought for his +patient's life with all his might by so much as one underhand or +dishonourable thought. + +And then, by a natural corollary, his thoughts reverted to Hilda Ryder; +and for the first time since her death he began to feel that now, after +all these years, he might surely be considered to have atoned for his +too hasty carrying-out of the promise he had made her in that +rose-coloured dawn of a bygone Indian morning. + +Never had man regretted an impulsive deed more than he had regretted the +thing which had been done that day. The years which had elapsed since +then had been indeed years of penance--a penance more cruel and far more +hard to bear than any penalty inflicted by man could possibly have been. + +He had been a prisoner indeed, bound fast in the captivity of his own +remorse; but now it seemed to him as though the long black night of his +imprisonment were breaking, as though a light, as yet very far off and +faint, showed upon some distant horizon with a promise of another and +more radiant day which should surely dawn ere long. + +Whence came this blessed lightening of his gloom? He could not say. Was +it perhaps due to the fact that even now he was risking his life in the +service of another woman--it is to be feared he forgot all but Iris in +this strangely exalted moment--that to him her life had been confided by +the father who adored her, and that to him and to him alone could she +look for comfort and for help in the bitter hour which he foresaw was +even now at hand for the girl who loved Bruce Cheniston--and must see +him die.... + + * * * * * + +And as his thoughts played, lightning-wise, round the figure of the +beloved woman, his footsteps led him on, more and more blithely as his +spirit rose, ph[oe]nix-like, above the ashes of his burnt-out tragedy, +and in an incredibly short space of time he approached the well whence +he might draw the precious water for lack of which the little garrison +he had left must perish and die. + +It was a peaceful spot, this well. Just such a place as that to which +Rachel and the daughters of Jacob must, long ago, have come to fill +their pitchers--a quiet, palm-guarded spot where doubtless, in days gone +by, the village women had congregated in search of water and of +news--the chattered gossip of the East, punctuated by the tinkling of +native bangles as the beautifully-moulded arms raised the pitchers to +the finely-carried heads. + +The well was deserted now, but the water was as clear and pure as ever, +and with a sigh of relief Anstice set about filling his goat-skin +water-bottle, and then, anxious to lose no time, he retraced his steps +over the moonlit desert without delay. + +He marched blithely on and on, ever companioned by that new and thrice +welcome sense of freedom which had come to him, as though at each step +he took the fetters with which a great regret had for so long shackled +his soul grew looser and less binding, until it seemed that they might +presently fall off altogether, and allow him once more to face the world +as a free man, and not the captive of a cruel and unjust fate. + + * * * * * + +He had reached the outskirts of the village before the necessity for +caution reasserted itself; but just as he was passing, as softly as +possible, the little group of palm trees which he had noted earlier, he +caught a glimpse of a man prowling, as it seemed, round the trunks of +those same trees; and in another second he knew that by an unlucky +chance the man was between him and the only place in which he might have +taken cover. + +There was no time to be lost. At any moment the Bedouin might look up +and see him--an unfortunately conspicuous figure in the moonlight; and +although the Fort was not more than a quarter of a mile away, should it +come to a race the odds might well be in favour of the desert-bred man. + +True, he was armed--for in spite of his protests Garnett had insisted on +him carrying one of the few revolvers owned by the little defending +force; but he did not wish to fire, save in the last extremity, since a +shot would certainly rouse the village and cut off his one chance of +regaining the shelter of the Fort. + +There was just a possibility that the man might not see him, so intent +was he at the moment in his scrutiny of the village; and in a second +Anstice had taken his resolve--a desperate resolve enough, but the only +one he could formulate at the moment. + +He began, instantly, to run, and so noiseless was his progress that no +sound reached the ears of the prowling Bedouin; and had the native's +other senses been less keen, it is possible Anstice would have escaped +notice altogether. + +Unfortunately the man turned himself about, and saw the flying figure, +which stood out only too plainly in that empty expanse of moonlit sand; +and after a second's hesitation, as though he could barely believe the +evidence of his eyes, the native left his hiding-place and began to run +with quick, loping gait after the fugitive, calling out something in a +high, piercing voice as he ran. + +In his college days Anstice had been somewhat of an athlete; and +although he had long since relinquished any sporting ambitions which he +might once have cherished, he had reason to bless his own turn of speed, +which, being a natural and not an acquired gift, did not fail him now. + +But never in his life had he run as he was running to-night. Apart from +any consideration of his own personal safety he was running for the +safety of others--of one in particular; for he knew only too well how +pitifully small was the force which held the beleaguered Fort; and +though in itself his life might be of little value, as a bulwark between +Iris Cheniston and her enemies it had a value all its own; and must not +be relinquished without a fierce and determined struggle. + +On and on he ran, the blood drumming in his ears, the goat-skin pounding +maddeningly about his shoulders. But even could he have brought himself +to fling away the precious water for which he had cheerfully risked his +life, he could not spare time to unfasten the skin slung across his +back; and he raced swiftly onward, cursing the loose sand which now and +again threatened to trip him up, not daring to look back until he had +lessened the distance to the Fort by a considerable amount. + +Then, casting a sharp glance over his shoulder, he saw that the Bedouin +was gaining upon him, his long, tireless stride, which resembled that of +a greyhound, swallowing the ground with little apparent effort; and +Anstice's quick mind realized that, fine runner as he knew himself to +be, he was outclassed by this native athlete. + +"All right, Dorando," he muttered grimly, half-aloud, as he checked +himself for a second in his race. "I can't outrun you, but I'm damned if +I don't put a bullet through you all the same." + +And pulling out his revolver he whisked about, so quickly that the other +had no time to realize his intention; and taking definite aim at the +man's thigh he fired once, twice--with satisfactory results, inasmuch +as the other uttered a sharp cry, spun round once or twice and fell in a +heap on the sand, incapable of further movement. + +For a second Anstice paused, innate humanity forbidding him to leave the +man alone in his agony; but the thought of Iris drove away such +weakness, and realizing that the noise of the shots must incite his foes +to immediate investigation, he hastily restored his revolver to its +place and ran, faster than ever, in the direction of the Fort. + +Suddenly the air behind him was rent with shrill clamour, and he knew +the village was aroused at last; but he cared little now, for he was +close to his desired haven; and a last spurt over the rocks at the +entrance to the valley landed him, spent and breathless, at the foot of +the Fort, beneath the window from which dangled the precious rope which +should carry him to safety. + +Regardless now of precaution, he lifted such voice as remained to him in +a would-be lusty hail; and as an answering shout came from above he +wasted no further time, but seized the rope and began--painfully now, +for he was exhausted--to haul himself slowly up, cheered on by Garnett's +hearty congratulations from above. + + * * * * * + +"By Jove, that was a close call!" Once safely inside the building, the +dangling rope pulled through the window after him, Anstice collapsed on +the rough stone floor and mopped his brow feebly. + +"I should say so!" The resourceful Australian had already produced a +tiny flask of brandy. "Here, take a pull at this, and you'll feel better +in a second. And when you've recovered, if you'll explain the meaning of +the shooting-match, I'll be thankful to you." + +Between his gasps Anstice described the chase and its subsequent ending; +and Garnett's eyes shone with an unholy lust for battle as he listened. + +"Good on you!" He clapped the other man on the shoulder with a +heartiness which was almost painful. "Well, we'll have the hornet's nest +about our ears in no time now; but at least we've got you back safe and +sound, and with a bit of luck we'll hold out grandly till the +reinforcements come!" + +"How is Cheniston?" Anstice rose as he spoke and slipped the goat-skin +from off his shoulders. "Anything happened since I've been away?" + +"Not that I know of--but I believe he was pretty bad a while ago." +Garnett's face clouded. "Jolly rough luck on his wife, isn't it? She's +so young, and so plucky, and I see you expect the poor chap to peg out." + +"I think I'll go and see him," said Anstice slowly, the exhilaration +dying from his manner; and as Garnett pulled aside the rough curtain +which covered the doorway he stepped on to the uneven stone floor +without. + +And then he came to a pause; for Iris was coming towards him; and her +face wore a curiously stricken look which made his heart miss a beat. + +"Mrs. Cheniston--you want me? Is your husband worse?" + +For a moment she did not reply. Then: + +"He is dead, Dr. Anstice," she said quietly. "He died ten minutes +ago--just after I heard those two shots----" + +"Dead?" Although he had half expected the news, Anstice found it hard to +believe. "Mrs. Cheniston, are you _sure_? May I come and see? You +might--possibly--be mistaken." + +"I am not mistaken," she said, and for a second a pitiful little smile +touched her white lips. "Bruce is dead--but come and see for yourself. +I ... I am glad you are safely back, Dr. Anstice." + +"Thank you," he said quietly; and then without more ado they moved side +by side towards the room in which Bruce Cheniston had yielded up his +life. + +Mrs. Wood rose from her seat as they entered, and glided softly away, +beckoning to her husband, who stood by the window, to join her; and when +they were alone Anstice and the girl so lately widowed moved forward +until they stood beside the bed on which Bruce Cheniston lay in all the +white majesty of Death. + +A very brief examination satisfied Anstice that Iris had not been +mistaken. Cheniston was dead; and as he stood looking down on the quiet +face, which, by virtue of Death's magic alchemy, had regained in the +last hour something of its former youth, Anstice knew a sincere and +unfeigned pity for the young life so ruthlessly cut short by a cruel +disease. + +"Yes, Mrs. Cheniston." He covered the dead white face gently. "I am +sorry to say you are right. Were you with him when he died?" + +"Yes. We were alone," she said, and again that oddly stricken look made +his heart yearn pitifully over her. + +"He was conscious before the end?" + +"I--I think so--at least, partly." Her tone was indefinable, desolation +and a strange, half-hurt wonder sounding in its low note. "He did not +speak much--only a few words--at the end I don't think he knew me...." + +"I am sorry you were left alone," he said, and he ventured to lay his +hand for a second gently on her arm. "I wish I could have been back +earlier. I am afraid it has been a shock to you." + +"Death is always a shock," she said quietly, and again a wintry little +smile touched her lips. "But--don't think me unkind, Dr. Anstice--I am +glad I was alone with him--at the end." + +In spite of himself a great amazement shook him at her words. Although +her meaning was a mystery to him, there was no doubt she had spoken in +perfect sincerity; and in the midst of his inward turmoil Anstice found +time to wonder exactly what she meant by this curious speech. Somehow he +could not help connecting the odd look which her face still held with +the strange words she had used; and he wondered what had been the manner +of Cheniston's passing. + +"Mrs. Cheniston"--Iris started as his voice fell on her ears--"you will +come away--now? There is nothing for you to do here. And you should try +to sleep----" + +"Sleep?" She glanced up at him with an indescribably dreary look in her +eyes. "I could not sleep, Dr. Anstice. If you will let me stay with +you"--her voice shook a little--"I should be glad. I--I don't want to be +alone--just yet." + +"Of course you don't." He spoke promptly. "And you shall certainly stay +with me, if you will. But--will it trouble you to make me a cup of +coffee, Mrs. Cheniston? I'm awfully sorry to bother you, but I've had +nothing to eat for some time----" + +At another moment she might have seen through his subterfuge; but now, +her wits dulled, her mind clouded by the scene through which she had +lately passed, she accepted his petition as genuine. + +"Of course I will get you some coffee--at once." She moved towards the +door as she spoke. "I--I am so sorry I did not think of it before." + +When she had gone he went quickly in search of Garnett, and explained +what service he required of the stalwart Australian. + +"Of course--we'll carry him, bed and all, into another room," said +Garnett readily. "That window must be guarded, and we can't ask the poor +girl to enter the room with her husband lying dead there. Let's hustle, +while she's busy--the little room 'way across there will do." + +Accordingly when Iris re-entered the room, rather shrinkingly, to +acquaint Anstice with the fact that a meal awaited him, she found an +empty space where the bed had stood; and although her eyes widened she +said nothing on the subject--an omission for which Anstice was thankful, +for the night's work had been a strain on him also; and he was in no +humour for further discussion at the moment. + + * * * * * + +He found the rest of the little garrison even more subdued than usual. +The death of one of their number had naturally cast a general gloom; and +when he had made a pretence of despatching his supper Anstice easily +persuaded Mrs. Wood to take a few hours' rest by the side of her little +girl, who was now, fortunately, well on the way to recovery from her +sudden illness. + +The incapable Rosa was also dismissed to seek what slumber was possible; +and then the four men took up their positions as before--Mr. Wood and +Garnett keeping watch from the window of the room in which Cheniston had +died, while Anstice and Hassan stationed themselves at the second +window; Iris leaning against the wall, very pale, but apparently quite +composed, on a pile of rugs which Anstice had arranged for her well out +of range of a possible stray shot. + +She had promised him to try to rest; but as the hours of the short night +wore away and the critical moment of dawn approached, he knew that +although she sat in silence with closed eyes she did not sleep; and +again he wondered, vainly, insistently, what had passed between husband +and wife before Death cut short their mutual life. + +He felt he would have given much to know what reason Iris had to be +thankful that she and her husband had been alone in the hour of his +death; and although he had no intention of pursuing the subject he could +not quite stifle his curiosity as to her meaning. + +But Sir Richard Wayne's daughter was the soul of loyalty; and although a +day was to come in which she and Anstice had few secrets from one +another, he was destined never to know that Bruce Cheniston had died +with Hilda Ryder's name upon his lips. + + * * * * * + +And so the short night passed; and with the dawn the long-expected +attack came at last. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +"Dr. Anstice"--Iris' voice was very low--"shall I disturb you if I come +and sit beside you for a little while? I--I feel rather--lonely--sitting +over there." + +Anstice had turned round sharply as she began to speak and his heart +yearned over her pitifully as he noted the pallor of her cheeks, the +forlorn look in her grey eyes. + +"Of course you won't disturb me." He dared not speak so emphatically as +he wished. "I shall be only too glad if you will come and sit here"--he +arranged the pile of rugs by him as he spoke--"only, if danger arises, +you will keep out of harm's way, won't you?" + +"Yes." She said no more for a moment; but her assent satisfied him, and +he turned back to the window with a sudden feeling of joy at her +proximity which would not be repressed. + +Presently he heard her low voice once more. + +"Dr. Anstice, when you told me your story--long ago--why didn't you tell +me the name of the man to whom that poor girl was engaged? Didn't you +want me to know she was to have married--Bruce?" Her voice sank on the +last word. + +For an instant Anstice kept silence, uncertain how to answer her. Then, +seeing she was waiting for his reply, he made an effort and spoke. + +"Mrs. Cheniston, to be honest, I don't know why I did not tell you. +But"--he seized the opportunity for a question on his own account--"will +you tell me how you know, now? Did--did your husband tell you?" + +"No." Her eyes met his frankly and he knew she was speaking the truth. +"I learned the fact for certain by accident three days ago, when Bruce +was delirious. Of course I had wondered--sometimes"--said Iris +honestly--"but I never liked to ask. And after all it made no +difference." + +"No." He sighed. "It made no difference. But I am glad you know--now." + +Again a silence fell between them; and then a sudden impulse drove +Anstice into speech. + +"Mrs. Cheniston," he said, very quietly, "may I tell you something +else--something I have long wanted you to know?" + +Startled, she assented; and he continued slowly. + +"You remember that night--the night before your wedding day"--he saw her +wince, and went on more quickly--"the night, I mean, when Cherry +Carstairs set herself on fire and you came for me to my house----" + +"Yes." Her eyes were sad. "I remember. I don't think I shall ever be +able to forget that night." + +"Ah, don't say that!" His voice was eager. "Mrs. Cheniston, don't, +please, believe I gave in without a struggle. I didn't. God knows I +fought the horrible thing--for your sake, because you had been good +enough, kind enough--to ask me to give up trying that way out. I did +try. Oh, I know you can hardly believe me--you who saw me in the very +hour of my failure--but it's true. Although I gave in at the last, +beaten by the twin enemies of bodily pain and mental suffering----" + +"You were--in pain--that day?" + +"Yes. I had endured torture--oh, I don't want to excuse myself, but +please understand I was really ill, really suffering, and morphia, as +you know, does bring a blessed relief. And I was wretched, too--it +seemed to me that life was over for me that day----" + +He stopped short, biting his lips at his self-betrayal; but Iris' grey +eyes did not turn away from his face. + +"And so, thinking I could endure no more agony of body and mind, I had +recourse to the one relief I knew; but before God, if I had known that +you would be a witness to my failure----" + +"Dr. Anstice"--the gentleness in her voice fell like balm upon his sore +spirit--"please don't say any more. We are only human, you and I; and +one failure does not minimize a long-continued success." + +"You mean----" + +"I mean that I know--I can't tell you how, but I _do_ know it--you have +never again tried that way out of your troubles. I think," said Iris, +"you have found the _real_ way out--at last." + +Her words perplexed, even while they relieved him; and he sought the +meaning of them. + +"The _real_ way, Mrs. Cheniston? I wonder what you mean by that?" + +"I mean," she said very softly, "you must have found the way out of your +own troubles by the very act of pointing out the way to others. You have +brought Chloe Carstairs back to life--oh, I know it was through you that +the mystery was cleared up at last--and that alone must make you feel +that whatever mistake you may once have made you have atoned for it a +hundredfold. And"--for an instant Iris' voice shook--"what are you doing +now but atoning for that mistake--if further atonement were necessary?" + +"You mean----" + +"I mean that you are here, waiting for the Bedouins to attack us at any +moment, waiting to fight for us women, ready, if need be, to die on our +behalf." The words fell very softly on the quiet air. "And though I pray +that God will send us help so that no life may be sacrificed I +know"--Iris' eyes shone, and her voice rang suddenly like a clarion +call--"I know that I--that we are safer with you than with any other man +in the world...." + +Carried away by her trust in him Anstice turned to her impulsively. + +"Mrs. Cheniston, I can't thank you enough for those words. God knows I +would willingly, gladly die to shield you from any harm; and if help +should not come in time, and I should lose my life, well, please believe +two things--firstly, that since that dreadful night I have +never--failed--in that way again; and secondly, that to die in your +service"--so much he might surely say in this poignant hour--"would be a +death which any man might envy me." + +She did not reply in words; but her eyes answered for her and for a +moment there was silence between them. Then, as though half afraid he +might have angered her by his last impetuous speech, Anstice spoke +abruptly in another tone. + +"Odd, isn't it, how an action carried through in a moment may have such +tremendous consequences? I mean if I had stayed my hand long ago in that +Indian hut you and I would not be here now, faced with this +rather--difficult--situation. It makes one realize that one should never +act too hastily--without looking all round the subject, so to speak." + +"Yes. And yet--sometimes--if one stopped to think of the consequences +one would be afraid to act, and let the vital moment slip," she said +rather dreamily. "Of course there is always the afterwards----" + +"Do you know of what that reminds me?" He spoke quickly. "Once, long ago +when I was a student, I picked up a book of old plays at a bookstall in +the Charing Cross Road. And in one of the plays I came across this +sentence: 'The deed itself may be the work of a moment; but there is +always the long, long _afterwards_ with which to reckon.'" + +His voice died away; but she said nothing, though her eyes betokened her +interest; and presently he resumed. + +"Well, that sentence has haunted me pretty frequently of late--it has +run through the years like the saying of some avenging angel. I have +known what the reckoning with the _afterwards_ may be--sometimes, +indeed, I have feared that reckoning will never be paid." + +"Dr. Anstice," she said quietly, "you are wrong. The reckoning _is_ +paid; the atonement _is_ made; and I am quite sure that the future--for +you--will be rid for ever of the haunting shadow of the past. And"--her +cheeks blanched suddenly as a clamour arose in the courtyard outside--"I +think the future is beginning--with trouble and danger--now." + +"I believe you are right." Turning impetuously to the window, which for +a moment he had neglected, he found Hassan, his eyeballs rolling +horribly in his dusky face, leaning out excitedly; and as he too craned +into the lifting darkness Anstice saw that the moment of attack was at +hand. + +Without warning save that given by their exultant shouts the Bedouins +were swarming over the wall, clambering over like great cats, dropping +with sundry thuds on to the sandy ground beneath; and in another moment +Anstice saw that they carried roughly fashioned scaling ladders, with +which they evidently intended to force an entrance, should that be +possible in the face of the defenders' fire. + +"See here, Mrs. Cheniston." Anstice spoke almost curtly. "Will you go +into the other room now? You are safer there, and out of harm's way for +the time, at least." + +"No, Dr. Anstice." She spoke determinedly. "I am going to stay here. You +have spare revolvers, haven't you? Then I can load for you and for +Hassan, at any rate, even if I can't be of other use." + +"You know how?" He was surprised. + +"Yes. My father taught me long ago. And"--for a second her voice +faltered--"I--I feel safer here. Please let me stay." + +"Very well." He could not bear to send her away. "But you must promise +to keep as far as possible out of range. We can't afford any casualties, +you know." + +"I promise," she said very quietly; and he knew she would obey his +injunctions implicitly. + +The next moment Garnett rushed into the room, his blue eyes alight with +a most warrior-like flame. + +"See what's up, Anstice? Good--I guessed you'd not be caught napping. +I'll get back now--there's going to be a gorgeous scrap in a minute. +Mrs. Cheniston, are you all right there?" + +"Quite, thanks." Her calm voice reassured him; and he dashed out of the +room without further parley, while Anstice and Hassan waited, tensely, +their revolvers in readiness, for the moment to open their defence. + +It was not yet day; and in the grey gloom it was difficult to +distinguish the nature of any object which was not close at hand; but +Anstice made out that the approaching Bedouins intended to scramble up +to the windows by use of their scaling ladders; and his face wore an +unusually grim expression as the flying moments passed. + +Ah! The first tribesman to reach the level of the window gave an +exultant yell, as though he saw his foe already within his grasp; and on +that shout of triumph his desert-born soul was sped to whatever haven +awaited it. For Anstice's revolver had spoken; and the swarthy Bedouin +fell headlong to the earth, shot, unerringly, through the heart. + +Anstice heard Iris give a faint gasp at his side; but now his blood was +up and he had no time to reassure even the one beloved woman. Something +strange, unexpected, had happened to him. Suddenly he too was primitive +man, even as these desert men were magnificently primitive. Gone was all +the veneer of civilization, the humanity which bids a man respect a +fellow-creature's life. He was no longer the educated, travelled man of +the world, who earned his living in honourable and decorous ways. He was +the cave-dweller, the man of another and more barbaric age, who defended +his stronghold because it held his woman, the woman for whom he would +fight to the very end, and count his life well spent if it were yielded +up in her service. But he did not mean to die. He meant to live--and +since that implied the death of these savages who clamoured without, +then let red death stalk between them, and decide to whom he would award +the blood-dripping sword of the victor. + +Another fierce face at the window--a pair of hawk-like eyes flashing +haughty challenge, a sinewy hand raising a revolver in deliberate +aim--and Hassan's shot rang out, so swiftly that this man too fell back, +disabled, his face disappearing from the window as one runs a film off a +reel of pictures. + +But there were others--many others--to take his place. Up and up they +came till there was a whole phalanx of enemy faces, eyes flashing, white +teeth gleaming in horrid snarls ... shot after shot rang out, but by +marvellous luck none touched the defenders, who on their side emptied +their revolvers as fast as Iris' fingers could make them ready. + +Suddenly a gigantic man half sprang over the sill and without attempting +to fire seized Anstice by the wrist in a grip of iron, whose marks +disfigured him for weeks to come. His intention was obvious--by holding +Anstice a prisoner he hoped to make opportunity for others to force an +entrance; and as Anstice had involuntarily dropped the revolver as the +steel-like fingers crushed his wrist, the fate of the little garrison +hung, for a second, in the balance. + +"Iris--shoot--quick!" Quite unconscious of the name he used Anstice +raised his voice in a desperate shout; and the girl heard and obeyed in +the same breath. + +Lifting the revolver she had just loaded she fired once, twice, with +fingers which did not even tremble; and the next moment with a loud +gurgle the Bedouin released his hold and fell back through the window, +dislodging the men who were clambering up the ladder behind him, so that +they fell together in a confused mass into the courtyard below. + +For a second there was a breathing-space; and Anstice turned to Iris +with gleaming eyes. + +"My God, you have a nerve!" His breath was coming in quick pants. "Mrs. +Cheniston, I can't thank you--I never dreamed that even you would be so +plucky." + +"It wasn't pluck--it was just--obedience," she said, and though her face +was very pale she smiled bravely up at him. "Dr. Anstice, are +there--many more to come? You have disabled a good many, haven't you?" + +"Between us, yes." He was cool again now, and picked up his revolver as +he spoke. "They seem to be hanging back a bit--and to judge by the row +Garnett's making I should say he's doing pretty well too." + +Bang! A bullet whizzed suddenly by Iris' head; and Anstice pulled her +hastily into a safer place. + +"Here they come back again!" His tone was almost boyishly gleeful. +"Well, we're ready for 'em--eh, Hassan?" + +The Arab, who was firing as steadily as though at a pigeon-shooting +match, nodded, his white teeth flashing out in a merry grin; and as the +Bedouins, taking heart, recommenced their attack, the two men, native +and Englishman, turned back to their task with renewed vigour. + +Neither Iris nor Anstice ever had a very clear recollection of the next +ten minutes. It was an inferno, a babel, a confusion of shots and yells +and angry clamour; but beyond a slight, flesh wound sustained by Hassan +neither of the defenders sustained any casualties; and had their +ammunition been as plentiful as their courage was high there would have +been no doubt as to the ultimate issue. + +Suddenly Anstice turned to Iris with a question on his lips; and her +face paled as she replied: + +"Not much, now. I think--only enough for three more rounds." She spoke +steadily. + +"I see. And then----" He broke off, handing her the empty revolver he +held. + +"And then?" She breathed the question softly; but there was no fear in +her face. + +"And then--I am not quite clear what happens then." He looked at her +more searchingly. "Mrs. Cheniston, what do you say--then? I'm ready, as +you know, to die for you, but"--he paused, then resumed in a rather +hoarse tone--"if I die what will become of you? I suppose"--he faltered, +and his lips were dry, but some inward impulse drove him on--"I suppose +you would not wish me to--save--a last cartridge...." + +"For me?" Her smile, as she faced him, was splendid. "No, Dr. Anstice, +I'm not afraid to die, if I must, at the hands of our enemies. But I +will not accept death--from _you_." + +He knew--irrevocably--what she meant. She was determined at least to +spare him a recurrence of the tragedy which had ruined so many of what +should have been the best years of his life; and although he knew he +could have faced even that risk courageously in her service, none the +less did he rejoice that he was not called upon to do this thing a +second time. + +"Then--if the worst should happen--if we are not relieved in time----" + +"We can all die--together," she said very simply; and in her face he +read something which, told him that for all her youth this girl would +know how to die. + +But further speech was suddenly cut short The Bedouins, who had been +hanging back for a moment's parley, had evidently rallied their forces +for another effort; for with a yell destined to strike terror into the +hearts of their foes they literally swarmed up the ladder until the +whole window-space was filled with a horrid nightmare of bearded, +swarthy faces, of sinewy, grasping hands, of tossing spears and +flourished fire-arms. + +Suddenly, with an exclamation of pain, Hassan dropped his revolver and +clapped his hand to his side; and Anstice felt, with a wild thrill of +dismay in all his veins, that the fight was practically over for them +now. The odds were too great--one well-directed bullet and he too would +be disabled, powerless to protect the girl for whose sake he longed so +ardently to win the day. + +"My God, Iris, we're beaten!" Even as he spoke he was firing into the +midst of the mass of packed faces at the window; and he heard her words, +spoken in a passionate whisper as one hears strange, whispered sentences +in a dream: + +"No--no!" Iris had been listening to another sound--the sound of hope, +of renewed life--and now, in the moment of his discouragement, she +whispered the glorious truth. "Listen--they're here--the men have come +in time--oh, don't you hear them shouting to us to hold on--for a +minute----" + +The next moment a wild cry from Hassan rent the air; and as the crowd of +fierce faces seemed, suddenly, to recede as a wave washes backwards on +the shore, Anstice knew, with a great uplifting of his spirit, that help +had indeed come--miraculously--in time to save the day.... + + * * * * * + +Answering shouts from the desert, the drumming of horses' hoofs, the +clamour of voices upraised in cries of encouragement--these were the +sounds which Anstice, almost unbelieving, heard at last; and as the +desert men began to retreat, tumbling over themselves and each other in +their haste to flee before this new enemy was upon them, Anstice turned +to Iris with a laugh of purest happiness. + +"They have come--you're safe now, thank God!" + +"We're all safe, thanks to you," she answered him with shining eyes; and +as he threw his empty revolver aside she held out both her hands to him +and he clasped them joyfully. + +"They have come--and so soon! I never dared to hope they would be here +before to-night at earliest!" + +"Nor I--but they are here!" He released her hands and turned to greet +the rest of the little garrison, who, having heard the clamour, had +realized they were saved, and came pouring in to hear the story of the +night's encounter. + + * * * * * + +At the same moment a fierce hubbub arose in the courtyard as the +Bedouins realized that they were verily in a trap. Some of them, +gathering their robes about them in undignified haste, managed to +scramble over the wall in the confusion and so make good their escape, +for the time at least; but the majority were neatly cornered; and though +they fought magnificently, as was their wont, they realized only too +soon that they were outnumbered; and in a comparatively short space of +time the fight was over. + + * * * * * + +Just as the rising sun flooded the desert with superb pink brilliance +the whole party, rescuers and besieged, met in the courtyard. + +Both Anstice and Garnett had been in the thick of the last affray; and +the soldier who was apparently in command of the expedition took +advantage of the breathing-space to congratulate the defenders on the +splendid defiance they had offered to their foes. + +"We heard the row quite a long way off," he said, "and hurried for all +we were worth, thinking we'd be too late if we didn't hustle. But from +the vigour of your defence it seems to me we might have taken it easy." + +"Good job for us you didn't," returned Anstice rather grimly. "We'd got +down to our last round--another five minutes and we'd have been wiped +out." + +"Whew!" The other man whistled. "Pretty close call, what? Lucky for you +we _did_ hustle, I see." + +"Yes--but can you explain how it is you're here so soon? We hadn't dared +to look for you till to-night or to-morrow morning." + +"Oh, that's easily explained. We fell in with your messenger--Sir +Richard Wayne, isn't it?--on our way back to Cairo. We were returning +from a little punitive expedition"--he smiled pleasantly--"and were only +too glad to set out on another jaunt. We get fed-up lounging about +barracks, and these affairs come as quite a God-send in the wilderness." + +"By the way, where is Sir Richard?" Anstice had been scanning the +company, but could catch no glimpse of his friend. "His daughter, Mrs. +Cheniston, is here, you know, and she will be anxious----" + +"Ah, yes--I have a message for her. Is she here--can you take me to +her?" + +"She is here," said Anstice quietly, as Iris, hearing her name, +approached. "Mrs. Cheniston, this gentleman has a message for you--from +your father----" + +"I'm Lane--Captain Lane, Mrs. Cheniston." He saluted her hastily. "And +your father asked me to tell you he was quite well, only a little tired +with his double journey. He wanted very much to return with us, but he +really was not fit to turn back immediately; and knowing how a lame +duck"--he coughed and looked suddenly embarrassed--"I mean--how one man +may delay a squadron, so to speak, he very sensibly agreed to stay at +our camp for a few hours' rest. We shall pick him up as we go back," he +added, and Iris smiled rather wearily as she answered: + +"Thank you very much, Captain Lane. You are _sure_ my father is all +right?" + +"Certain--only a bit fagged, and no wonder, for he'd ridden hard. +Ah--and he told me to say you were to ask Dr. Anston--Anstice, is +it?--to help you in any matter in which you wanted a little help." + +"I will certainly do that," said Iris quietly; and as the other men +pressed round the little group, eagerly questioning the defenders of the +besieged Fort, Iris slipped away from the excited crowd so unobtrusively +that no eyes save those of Anstice witnessed her departure. + + * * * * * + +Three minutes later Anstice, leaving the rest planning the return +journey over the desert, went quietly in search of Iris. + +He found her, as he had half expected, standing by the window of the +room in which Bruce Cheniston had died; and in her eyes was a forlorn +look which showed him the measure of her desolation in this sunrise +hour. + +Quietly as he had entered she had heard him come, and turned to face him +with a rather tremulous smile. + +"Mrs. Cheniston, I came to look for you." He approached as he spoke; and +in spite of herself she felt comforted by the mere fact of his presence. +"You are not worrying because your father very wisely let those fellows +come on ahead of him?" + +"N-no," she said, with a queer little catch in her breath. "Only--I had +so wanted--so hoped--to see my father--_soon_." + +"I know," he said quietly, "and you _will_ see him--very soon. We shall +start this afternoon, when the horses are rested; and then it will not +be many hours before you and your father meet again." + +"Yes." She looked at him with something of appeal in her eyes. "Dr. +Anstice, my father said you would help me ... you will, won't you? You +know," said Iris simply, "you are the only person I can turn to--now." + +More moved by her words than he cared to show, Anstice answered her, not +impetuously, but with something in his manner which would have inspired +confidence in any woman. + +"Mrs. Cheniston, I will do all I can--and God knows I am grateful to Him +for allowing me the chance of helping you--now. If you will trust +yourself to me I will not relinquish my trust until I give you safely +into your father's keeping. You _will_ trust me?" + +"Yes, Dr. Anstice." She held out her hands to him as she spoke in token +of sincerity. "I would trust you--to the end of the world!" + + * * * * * + +And as he took her hands in his and vowed himself afresh to her service +Anstice knew, with a great lightening of his spirit, that during the +night march over the desert, that which he had almost dared to hope +might happen, had indeed come to pass; that the chains with which his +own action had shackled his soul had fallen from him for ever, and that +full atonement for Hilda Ryder's death had been made at last. + + * * * * * + +FAMOUS NOVELS BY KATHLYN RHODES + + + THE LURE OF THE DESERT + THE DESERT DREAMERS + THE WILL OF ALLAH + SWEET LIFE + AFTERWARDS + FLOWER OF GRASS + THE MAKING OF A SOUL + + +_In cloth, with attractive pictorial wrapper, 1/6 net._ + +Vivid descriptions of the entrancing scenery of the East, incident +crowding upon incident, romantic situations, exciting intrigues, +unexpected denouements hold and absorb the interest from start to +finish. + + KATHLYN RHODES + is the assured success of 1918, + as GERTRUDE PAGE was the success of 1916 + and MABEL BARNES-GRUNDY of 1917. + +Fired with enthusiasm to win fame as a novelist, Kathlyn Rhodes began +her career before her school days were ended. "Sweet Life" followed +shortly afterwards; and the appreciation which this won encouraged the +authoress to follow quickly with other stories. Choice of subject she +holds to be of primary importance. With the war depressing us all +around, she believes that many readers prefer stories that permit them +for the time to forget it; and this she achieves by her delightful +flights of fancy through the realms of many lands. + +These are the stories to send to your soldier friends to combat the +horrors of warfare and the tedium of the hospitals; and the stories to +read yourself to relieve the weary vigils we must keep at home. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Afterwards, by Kathlyn Rhodes + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AFTERWARDS *** + +***** This file should be named 21867.txt or 21867.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/1/8/6/21867/ + +Produced by David Clarke, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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