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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/38054-8.txt b/38054-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2f60bbd --- /dev/null +++ b/38054-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12371 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Duel, by Richard Marsh + +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: A Duel + +Author: Richard Marsh + +Release Date: November 18, 2011 [EBook #38054] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DUEL *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books + + + + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + 1. Page scan source: + http://books.google.com/books?id=szQPAAAAQAAJ + 2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe]. + + + + + + + A DUEL + + + + + + + BY THE SAME AUTHOR + + The Beetle: A Mystery + Garnered + A Metamorphosis + The Twickenham Peerage + Both Sides of the Veil + The Seen and the Unseen + Marvels and Mysteries + Miss Arnott's Marriage + The Goddess: a Demon + The Joss: a Reversion + The Crime and the Criminal + + + + + + A DUEL + + + + BY + RICHARD MARSH + + + + METHUEN & CO. + 36 ESSEX STREET W.C. + LONDON + + + + + + _First published_, 1904 + + + + + + CONTENTS + + + BOOK I.--Wife + + + CHAPTER I + + The End of the Honeymoon. + + + CHAPTER II + + An Offer of Marriage. + + + CHAPTER III + + Whom God hath Joined. + + + CHAPTER IV + + A Second Honeymoon. + + + CHAPTER V + + A Conversation with the Doctor. + + + CHAPTER VI + + Husband and Wife. + + + CHAPTER VII + + A Tug of War. + + + CHAPTER VIII + + The Miniature. + + + CHAPTER IX + + The Sliding Panel. + + + CHAPTER X + + The Girl at the Door. + + + CHAPTER XI + + Hot Water. + + + CHAPTER XII + + Signing the Will. + + + CHAPTER XIII + + The Encounter in the Wood. + + + CHAPTER XIV + + In Cuthbert Grahame's Room. + + + + BOOK II.--The Widow + + + CHAPTER XV + + "The Gordian Knot". + + + CHAPTER XVI + + Margaret is Puzzled. + + + CHAPTER XVII + + An Unexpected Visitor. + + + CHAPTER XVIII + + Cronies. + + + CHAPTER XIX + + In Council. + + + CHAPTER XX + + The Impending Sword. + + + CHAPTER XXI + + Out of the Blue. + + + CHAPTER XXII + + Margaret Settles the Question. + + + CHAPTER XXIII + + Margaret Resolves to Fight. + + + CHAPTER XXIV + + The Interior. + + + CHAPTER XXV + + Alarums and Excursions. + + + CHAPTER XXVI + + Solicitor and Client. + + + CHAPTER XXVII + + Pure Ether. + + + CHAPTER XXVIII + + Mr. Lamb in a Communicative Mood. + + + CHAPTER XXIX + + Margaret Pays a Call. + + + CHAPTER XXX + + Mrs. Lamb in Search of Advice. + + + CHAPTER XXXI + + Mrs. Lamb Returns to Pitmuir. + + + CHAPTER XXXII + + At the Gate. + + + CHAPTER XXXIII + + At the Door. + + + CHAPTER XXXIV + + Towards Judgment. + + + CHAPTER XXXV + + Judges. + + CHAPTER XXXVI + + Pleasant Dreams! + + + + + + BOOK I + + WIFE + + + + + A DUEL + + CHAPTER I + + THE END OF THE HONEYMOON + + +Isabel waited till the rat-tat was repeated a second time, then +she went down to the front door. Since Mrs. Macconichie and her +husband were both out, and she had the house to herself, there +was nothing else for her to do, unless she wished the postman to +depart with the letters. As it was, when she appeared at the +door, he grumbled at being delayed. + +"These Scotchmen are all boors," she told herself, in her +bitterness. + +She looked at the letter which had been thrust into her hand. It +was addressed to "Mr. G. Lamb". The sight of it reopened the +fountains of her scorn. + +"They might at least have put G. Lamb, Esq. G. Lamb! What a +fool I've been!" + +Further consideration of the envelope led her to the conclusion +that it was the letter they had both been waiting for--the +answer to her husband's plea for help. She pressed it between +her fingers to learn, if possible by the sense of touch, what +the envelope contained. + +"I believe there's only a letter--no cheque, nor anything. If +there isn't, then we are done." + +She hesitated a moment, then tore it open. It contained merely a +sheet of common writing-paper, on the front page of which was +this brief note:-- + + +"Dear Gregory, + +"I like the idea of your asking me to help you. You've had all +the help you'll ever have from me. The shop won't bear it; +business is getting worse. If it weren't, you'd get no more +money out of me. + +"You'd better get your wife to keep you. + + "Susan Lamb." + + +Susan Lamb! That was his mother, the mother of the man she had +married. So the truth was out at last. His mother kept a shop; +he had been sponging on her for the money he had scattered +broadcast. There was neither address nor date upon the letter, +but the postmark on the envelope was Islington. Islington! His +mother was a small shopkeeper in that haunt of the needy clerk! +And she had believed him when he had posed before her as a +"swell"--an aristocrat; when he had talked about his "coin" and +his "gees". He had jockeyed her into supposing that money was a +matter of complete indifference to him; that, as she boasted to +her friends and rivals, "he rolled in it". So successfully had +he hoodwinked her that she married him within a month of their +first meeting--she, Belle Burney, the queen of song and dance! +Had thrown up all her engagements to do it, too; and she was +beginning to get some engagements which were not to be despised. + +At the commencement he had done things in style: had taken her +up to Edinburgh, leisurely, in a motor. She had imagined that +the motor was his own. At Edinburgh it vanished; he told her to +receive some trifling repairs. But she, having already +discovered he was a liar, suspected him of having sold it. Later +she learned that the machine had only been hired for a +fortnight. + +Already, at Edinburgh, money began to run short. He did his best +to conceal from her the state of the case, but the thing was so +obvious that his attempts at concealment were vain. He had lied +bravely, protesting that, in some inexplicable way, his +remittances had gone wrong; that in the course of a post or two +he would be in possession of an indefinitely large sum of money. +The posts came and went, but they brought no money. So they +drifted hither and thither, each time to humbler quarters. Now, +within six weeks of marriage, they were stranded at a remote +spot in Forfarshire, within a drive of Carnoustie. Isabel had +reason to suspect that, at the time of their marriage, her +husband had less than two hundred pounds in the world. He had +squandered more than that already; the motor had made a hole in +it. The pawnbroker had come to the rescue when the coin was +gone. They were penniless; owed for a week's food and lodging; +their landlady was already showing signs of anxiety. Now the +much-talked-of and long-expected letter had arrived which was to +bring the munificent remittance. + +It turned out to be half-a-dozen lines from his shopkeeping +mother, who declined to advance him a single stiver! + +When the young wife realised, or thought she realised, all that +the curt epistle meant, she told herself that now indeed the +worst had come. She had just had another bitter scene with her +husband; had, in fact, driven him out into the night before the +tempest of her scorn and opprobrium. The landlady had departed +on an errand of her own. Isabel told herself that now, if ever, +an opportunity presented itself to cut herself free from the +bonds in which she had foolishly allowed herself to be entwined. +She went upstairs, put on her hat and jacket, crammed a few of +her scanty possessions into a leather handbag, and then--and +only then--paused to think. + +It was nearly nine o'clock, late for that part of the world. The +nearest railway station was at Carnoustie, more than seven miles +away. She knew that there was an early train which would take +her to Dundee, and thence to London; but, supposing she caught +it, how about the fare? The fare to London was nearly two +pounds; she had not a shilling. She did not doubt that, once in +London, she could live, as she always had lived; but she had to +get there first, across five hundred miles of intervening +country. + +She arrived at a sudden resolution, one, however, which had +probably been at the back of her mind from the first. Yesterday, +going suddenly into the landlady's own sitting-room, she had +taken the old lady unawares. Mrs. Macconichie had what Isabel +felt sure were coins--gold coins--in one hand, and in the other +the lid of a tobacco jar which stood in a corner of the china +cupboard. Although seeming to notice nothing, Mrs. Lamb, struck +by the old lady's state of fluster, leaped to the conclusion +that that tobacco jar was her cash-box. Now, bag in hand, she +came downstairs to learn if her surmise had been correct. + +Although she was aware that the sitting-room was empty, she was +conscious of an odd disinclination to enter, dallying for some +seconds with the handle in her hand. Once in, she lost no time +in ascertaining what she wished to learn, meeting, however, with +an unlooked-for obstacle. The china cupboard was locked; no +doubt Mrs. Macconichie had the key in her pocket. She took out +her own keys; not one of them was any use. She could see the +tobacco jar on the other side of the glass door. She did +not hesitate long; moments were precious. Taking a metal +paper-weight off the mantelshelf she smashed the pane, breaking +it right away to enable her to gain free access to the jar. She +removed the lid. The jar was full of odds and ends; she did not +examine them closely enough to gather what they were. At the +bottom, under everything else, was a canvas bag. She took it +out. It was tied round the neck with pink tape. It undoubtedly +contained coins; perhaps twenty or thirty. Should she open it, +and borrow two or three? or should she take it as it was? + +The answer was acted, not spoken. Slipping the bag between the +buttons of her bodice, she passed from the room and from the +house. So soon as she was in the open air she thought she heard +the sound of approaching footsteps; as if involuntarily she +shrank back into the doorway, listening. She had been mistaken; +there was not a sound. She came out into the street again, +drawing a long breath. She looked to the right and left; not a +creature was in sight. She set off in the direction of +Carnoustie. + +Her knowledge of the surrounding country was of the vaguest +kind. She had not gone far before it began to dawn on her that +this was a foolhardy venture in which she was engaged. It was a +habit of hers to act first and think afterwards, or she would +never have become Mrs. Gregory Lamb. Hard-headed enough when she +chose to give her wits fair play, she was, at that period of her +career, too much inclined to become a creature of impulse. The +impulses to which she was prone to yield were only too apt to be +wrong ones. For instance, she had not long left Mrs. +Macconichie's before she perceived clearly enough that the +chances were possibly a hundred to one against her reaching +Carnoustie in the darkness on foot. Houses were few and far +between; the road was a lonely one; it was quite on the cards +that she might not meet a soul from whom to make inquiries. If +she had given the thing any thought at all, she would have +perceived from the first how slight her chances were, in which +case, since it was no use jumping out of the frying-pan into the +fire, she would certainly have postponed her departure. Now it +was too late to return. The pane of glass in the china cupboard +was broken; the canvas bag was inside her bodice. With the best +will in the world she might find it difficult to conceal what +had happened, not to speak of the possibility of Mrs. +Macconichie's having already discovered her loss. So she pressed +on. + +Indeed, shortly she could not have gone back if she had wished. +She had not started half an hour before she was forced to admit +that she had lost her bearings utterly; that she had not the +faintest notion in which direction Carnoustie lay, nor +whereabouts she was. She was on a black road; that was all she +knew. A rough, uneven road, which apparently straggled over open +moorland. She could make out trees here and there, but the road +itself seemed to have no boundaries. So far as she could make +out, there was nothing on either side in the shape of a hedge or +landmark. + +Soon she was not at all sure that she was not off the road; that +she was not roaming, blindly, over the open country. It seemed +impossible that any road could be so uneven. She kept stumbling +over unseen obstacles. Once she caught herself descending what +seemed to be the steep sides of some sort of pit. With a sense +of shock she drew back in time. She listened; she seemed to hear +the sound of running waters. Could she be standing on the bank +of some stream or river, into which, in another second, she +might have descended? Anxious, even a little alarmed, turning +right about face, she moved forward in what she supposed was the +opposite direction. She seemed to be stumbling over a succession +of hillocks. This could not be the road; she must have gone +entirely astray. If she did not take care she would be running +into some serious danger. + +All at once her foot caught in some trailing root or plant; she +went headforemost to the ground. Fortunately, she came down +lightly enough. The fall was of little consequence, but when she +tried to regain her perpendicular she learned, to her dismay, +that her ankle refused to support her. Willy-nilly, she had to +remain squatted where she had fallen. + +"I seem to be in for a real good thing," she groaned. "Am I to +stay here all night? I shall be frozen to the bone before the +morning, to say nothing of waiting like a rat in a trap for Mrs. +Macconichie to catch me." + +She had to wait there for probably more than an hour, not +exactly on the same spot. She managed, at intervals, to half +hobble, half crawl across, perhaps another couple of hundred +yards of ground. But the labour was thrown away. At that rate +she would not have covered a mile before daybreak. Yielding to +necessity, still clutching her bag, crouching on the turf, she +watched for the light to come. She felt no need for sleep; she +was only consumed by a great impatience, in that all things +seemed to be against her. + +The skies were clouded like her fate. Nowhere was there a +glimmer of a star. A cool breeze was coming from what she judged +to be the sea. It made itself more and more felt as the time +stole on. By degrees it began to bring a mist with it. As she +had foreseen, she became chilled to the marrow of her bones. + +"If this goes on I shall freeze to death." + +The idea recurred to her like a sort of formula. She kept +telling herself again and again that that night would be the end +of her. + +When her vitality seemed at its lowest point the stillness of +the night was broken by a sound--the sound of wheels. + + + + + CHAPTER II + + AN OFFER OF MARRIAGE + + +She raised her head to listen, thinking that her senses must be +playing her a trick. No; it certainly was the sound of wheels, +coming nearer and nearer. Some one was driving fast through the +darkness, so fast that in what seemed to her to be less than a +minute the driver was close upon her. Apparently nearly in front +of her, although she could not see it, was a road along which +the vehicle was approaching. It carried no lights; nothing broke +the shadows; but, if her ears could be trusted, within a +stone's-throw of where she was some wheeled conveyance was +hurrying past. She stood upon her one sound foot and shouted:-- + +"Hallo!--hallo-o!--hallo-o-o!" again and again. + +Her first shouts went unheeded. Possessed by a wild fear that +she might remain unnoticed, raising her voice to a desperate +yell, she started to scream herself hoarse. + +This time her tones travelled. Suddenly the vehicle ceased to +move. An answering shout came back to her:-- + +"Who's there? What's the matter with you?" + +The accent was broad Scotch. Had it been the purest Cockney +it could not have seemed more welcome. She replied to the +inquiry:-- + +"I've sprained my ankle so that I can hardly move". + +This time in the other voice there was an unmistakable +suggestion of surprise. + +"Is it a woman?" + +"Yes." + +Her tone was fainter. + +"And what might you be doing here at this hour of the morning?" + +"I'm going to Carnoustie." + +"Carnoustie! You're going to Carnoustie!--along this road? +You're joking! Can you get as far as this, so that I can have a +look at you?" + +"I'll try." + +She did try. It was a distance of barely a hundred yards, but +traversing it was a work of time. When the space was covered it +was only by clutching at the wheel of the trap that she saved +herself from subsiding in a heap upon the ground. In an instant +the driver was off his seat, and with his arm about her. + +"Is it so bad as that?" + +"It is pretty bad," she stammered. + +"For the Lord's sake, don't faint! We've no time to waste upon +such trifles." + +"I'm not going to faint." At any rate the tone was faint enough. +Suddenly she seemed to pull herself together, as if stirred by a +spirit of resentment. "I never have fainted in my life--I'm not +going to begin to do it now." + +He laughed--that is, the little husky sound he made might have +been intended for a laugh. + +"If you'll keep quite still I'll lift you up into the trap +somehow, though, by the feel of you, you're as big as I am, and, +maybe, heavier. The mare won't move. She's one of the few female +things I ever met that wasn't troubled with the fidgets." + +As he put it, "somehow" he did get her up into the trap, then +climbed on to the seat beside her. Presently they were bowling +along together. For some seconds neither spoke. She was +endeavouring to accustom herself to her new position. He, +possibly--as his questions immediately showed--was wondering who +it was that he had chanced upon. + +"You're English?" + +"I am." + +"Staying in these parts?" + +"I'm on a walking tour." + +"A walking tour at one o'clock in the morning!" + +"It wasn't one o'clock when I started. I've been where you found +me for hours and hours." + +"Where were you making for?" + +"I've told you, I was going to Carnoustie." + +"Going from Carnoustie, you mean. You'll never be finding it in +this part of the country." + +"I daresay. Since it became dark I've been hobbling round about +just anywhere. I don't know where I am; I've lost myself +completely." He was silent, as if he found something in her +words which made him think. Then she took up the _rôle_ of +questioner: "Where are you going?" + +"To a man that's dying." + +"Are you a doctor?" + +"It's my trade." + +"Then you'll be able to look at my ankle. I hope it's nothing +serious, but it seems to be getting worse instead of better." + +"I'll look at your ankle, never fear. I'll find you an easier +patient than the one I'm bound for." + +Little more was said on either side. The doctor seemed to be by +nature a taciturn man, or perhaps he was too preoccupied for +speech. Isabel was feeling too miserable to talk. She was cold +and wet; her ankle was occasioning her no little pain. She could +hardly have been less inclined for conversation, and she, also, +had at times a gift of silence. During the twenty or thirty +minutes the drive continued probably not half-a-dozen words were +exchanged. + +At last the doctor brought his mare to a standstill. + +"I suppose you couldn't get down and open a gate? There's one +right in front of us. I can see it's closed." + +His eyes must have had the cat's quality of being able to +penetrate the darkness; she could see nothing. + +"I might be able to get down--if I had to tumble, but I doubt if +I'd ever be able to get up again." + +He grunted as if in disapprobation. + +"Can you hold the reins while I get down?" + +"I daresay I could do that." + +He passed her the reins and descended. She heard a gate swing +back upon its hinges. He reappeared at the horse's head. + +"I'd better lead her through and up to the house; it's as black +as the devil's painted under the trees. I ought to have brought +my lamps, but I came away in such a hurry. When some folks are +dying they will not wait." + +They passed through a darkness which was so intense that she +could not see the horse which was drawing her on. The avenue +seemed a long one. It was some minutes before, drawing clear of +the overhanging foliage, they stopped in front of a house which +loomed grim and ominous in the shadows. Apparently their +approach had been heard. No sooner had they stopped than the +door was thrown wide open. The figure of a woman was seen +peering out into the darkness, with a lamp in her hand. + +"Is it the doctor?" she demanded. + +"Yes, it's the doctor. And how is he now?" + +"He's as near to death as he can be to be still alive. I believe +he's only keeping the breath in his body till he gets a sight of +you." + +"To be sure that's uncommonly good of him. Now, madam, will that +ankle of yours permit you to tumble down with the help of a hand +from me?" + +Without answering Isabel commenced a laborious and painful +descent. At sight of her the woman on the doorstep evinced a +lively curiosity. + +"Why, doctor, who is it you're bringing with you?" + +"It's a visitor for you, and another patient for me, Nannie. +You'll have to find her a corner somewhere while I go up to see +the laird. When I've done with him I'll have to start with her. +I'm hoping that she'll be the easier job of the two. Come, lend +a hand. It's beyond my power to get her into the house alone, +and it seems that by herself she'll never do it." + +Between them they got her up the steps, through the door and +into a room which, immediately after passing it, was entered on +the right. They placed her on a couch. + +"Now, madam," observed the doctor, "here you'll have to stay +until I've seen my other patient. And since Heaven only knows +how long he'll keep me, you'll have to make the best of it until +I come. So keep up the character you told me of and don't you +faint, or any silliness of that kind, but just make yourself as +comfortable as ever you can." + +With that the speaker left her, the woman going with him. She +had placed on a table the lamp which she had borne in her hand. +It was a common glass affair, which did not give too good a +light. For some minutes Isabel showed no inclination to avail +herself of its assistance to learn in what manner of place she +was. By degrees, however, as the time continued to pass, and +there were still no signs of any one appearing, she began to +show a languid interest in her surroundings. She was dimly +conscious that the room was not a large one; that it was +sparely, even austerely, furnished. She was aware that the couch +on which she lay was of the old-fashioned horsehair kind, both +slippery and uncomfortable. She had a vague suspicion that if +she was not careful she would slip right off it, and her misty +imaginings became mistier still. Before she knew it she was +asleep. + +She slept for two good hours before she was disturbed; at least +that period of time had elapsed before the doctor made his +reappearance in the room. The sight of the sleeping woman seemed +to occasion him surprise. He observed her with a slight smile +adding another pucker to his wrinkled cheeks. He was a little, +thin man, clean shaven and bald-headed. He had a big, aquiline +nose. His eyes were sunk deep in his head, looking out from +overhanging shaggy eyebrows. His lips were drawn so tightly +together as to hint at a paucity of teeth. + +"Who are you, I wonder? You've youth, health, good looks--three +good things for a woman to have. You're not ill-dressed. And yet +there's that about you, as you lie sleeping there--we're all of +us apt to give ourselves away when we're asleep--which makes me +wonder who you are, and how you came to sprain your ankle on +Crag Moor when going to Carnoustie. However that may be, there's +an adventure lying ready to your hand--if you've a fancy for +adventures. And, unless I'm much mistaken, I think you have." + +He laid his hand upon the sleeper's shoulder. The touch was a +light one, but it was sufficient to arouse her. With a start she +sprang up to a sitting posture, crying-- + +"You shan't! It's a lie! You shan't." She put her hand to her +bodice, as if to guard something which was hidden there. The +doctor said nothing; he stood and watched. Waking to a clearer +sense of her surroundings, she perceived him standing by her +side. "Oh, it's you. How long have I been asleep?" + +"Sufficiently long, I hope, to rest you. Will you allow me to +introduce myself? My name is Twelves--David Twelves, M.D., of +Edinburgh. May I ask if you have any objection to introduce +yourself to me, and tell me your name?" + +"Not the least; why should I have? I'm not ashamed of my name. +Why do you want to know it?" + +"Because the immediate object of my presence here is to make you +what is to all intents and purposes an offer of, say, twenty +thousand pounds, and I have a not unnatural desire to know to +whom I am offering it." + +She sat more upright on the couch, swinging round so as to bring +her feet upon the floor, looking at him with eyes which were now +wide open. + +"What do you mean? You are making fun of me." + +"I am doing nothing of the kind. This is likely to be one of the +most serious moments of your life. I am not disposed to lighten +it by misplaced attempts at playfulness." Yet even as he spoke +again that nebulous smile seemed to add another pucker to his +cheeks. "What I say is said very much in earnest. There is a man +upstairs who's dying. Perhaps he is already dead while I stand +here talking to you. If he's not dead, before he dies he wants +another curious thing--a wife." + +"A wife!--and you say he's dying!" + +"It's because he's dying that he wants her. He has had no need +of such an encumbrance living. I have come to ask you if you'll +be his wife." + +"I be his wife!" + +Instinctively she doubled up the finger on which was the +wedding-ring. She still wore her gloves, so it had remained +unnoticed. + +"Yes, you. You're the only woman within reach, except old +Nannie, who hardly counts, or I wouldn't trouble you. Answer me +shortly--yes or no--will you be his wife?" + +"Marry a perfect stranger!--a man I've never seen!--who you say +is dying!" + +"Precisely; it is a mere formula to which I'm asking your +subscription. He'll certainly be dead inside two hours, possibly +in very much less. You'll be a widow in one of the shortest +times on record; in possession of a wife's share of all his +worldly goods--and that, by all accounts, should be worth fully +twenty thousand pounds." + +"Twenty thousand pounds! But why should he want to marry any one +if he's dying?" + +"There's not much time for explanation, but I'll explain this +much. He's made a will in favour of a certain person. That will +he is anxious to revoke. If he marries it will become invalid. +As matters stand it will be easier for him to take a wife than +to make another will." + +"You are sure he will be dead within two hours?" + +"Quite. I shall not be surprised to learn that he's dead +already. You are losing your chances of becoming a well-to-do +widow by lingering here." + +"You are certain he will leave me twenty thousand pounds?" + +"The simple fact of his death will make it yours. So soon as the +breath is out of his body you will become entitled to a wife's +inheritance--if you are his wife." + +"You are not playing me any trick? It is all just as you say?" + +"On my honour, it is all just as I say. There is no trick. If +you will come with me upstairs you will be able to judge for +yourself." + +"But how can we be married at a moment's notice? Is there a +clergyman in the house?" + +"You forget you are in Scotland. Neither notice nor clergyman is +needed. It will be sufficient for you to recognise each other as +husband and wife in the presence of witnesses; that act of +mutual recognition will in itself constitute a legal marriage +which all the lawyers will not be able to break. That is why it +will be easier for him to marry than to make another will." + +"There is not the least doubt that he will be dead within two +hours?" + +"Not the least--unless a miracle intervenes." + +She was sitting with her hands clenched in her lap, a +perceptible interval of silence intervening before the words +burst from her lips-- + +"Then I'll marry him!" + + + + + CHAPTER III + + WHOM GOD HATH JOINED + + +Dr. Twelves showed no sign of either surprise or gratification. +He looked at her dispassionately, almost apathetically, from +under his overhanging eyebrows. + +"Can you walk upstairs without assistance?" + +"I'm afraid not. I don't think my ankle is any better." + +He stooped down. + +"It's swollen; it looks as if it were going to be an awkward +business. Your boot and stocking will have to be cut away; but +there's no time to do it now--moments are precious. You will +have to wait until you're married. It's only on the first floor. +Do you think you'll be able to get up with the aid of my arm and +of the baluster?" + +"I'll try." + +"Might I suggest, before we start, that it would do no harm if +you were to remove your hat and jacket. It would seem more in +keeping." + +She acted on his suggestion. + +"I ought to wash and tidy myself; I know I'm all anyhow." + +"Now you will do very well. Your future husband is too far gone +to be able to tell if your hair is straight or crooked; at the +point he's reached that sort of thing doesn't matter." When they +had reached the landing at the top of the stairs the doctor said +to her: "By the way, the name of your future husband is +Grahame--Cuthbert Grahame. May I ask what yours is? It is just as +well that he should know it." + +She hesitated a moment. + +"My name is Isabel Burney." + +"Miss Burney, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Grahame's room." + +He threw open the door of the room in front of which they had +been standing. As he did so Isabel slipped off her left-hand +glove, bringing with it, at the same time, her wedding-ring. +Crumpling up her glove she squeezed it into her waistband, the +ring inside it. On the doctor's arm she hobbled to a big +armchair, into which she sank with a sigh of unmistakable +relief. + +The room in which she found herself, although low-ceilinged, was +a spacious one. It seemed to her that all the furniture it +contained was old-fashioned, a fact which, although she did not +know it, increased its value perhaps a hundred-fold. She thought +it simply dowdy. A huge Chippendale bed was in the centre of the +room. In it, propped up on pillows, was the figure of a man +which, if only from the point of size, fitly matched the bed. +Leaning over him, on the other side, was Nannie, the old woman +who had admitted them into the house. The doctor addressed +himself to her. + +"How is he?" + +"About the same." + +Although they had both spoken in a whisper their voices were +audible to the man in the bed. + +"Is that that old devil Twelves come back again?" + +The tone was harsh, and it was obvious that the speaker spoke +with difficulty, but the words themselves were plain enough. The +doctor evinced no sign of annoyance at the other's somewhat +uncomplimentary reference to himself; on the contrary, he chose +to apply to himself the other's epithet as he answered:-- + +"Yes, it's the old devil back again, and, what's more, he's +brought the young devil too--begging your pardon, Miss Burney, +for speaking of you in such a manner. But it's the fashion in +this house to use strong language, and always has been. Laird, +I've brought the lady." + +"Where is she?" + +"At this moment she's sitting in your armchair. As I told you, +she's sprained her ankle, which makes it difficult for her to +walk, or even stand." + +"Damn her ankle!" + +"By all means. You should know more about that sort of thing +than I do. You're nearer to it than I am." + +"You think that hurts me?" + +"Not I. I know that nothing hurts you. I doubt if even the +torments of hell will trouble you much. You're past all hurting. +Shall I tell Miss Burney she isn't wanted, and can go again?" + +"What's her name?" + +"Burney--Isabel Burney. At least, she says so." + +"Isabel Burney, you are my wife; you're Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame. I +acknowledge you as my wife, and I wish all men to acknowledge +you also. Are you content that it should be so?" + +"I am." + +"You hear, Nannie? You hear, Twelves? You're both witnesses. I +take Isabel Burney to be my wife, and she agrees." + +"I hear. But does she take you for her husband--eh, Miss +Burney?" + +"I do. I take Cuthbert Grahame to be my husband in the sight of +God and man." + +Isabel had returned to one of her old faults--overemphasis. +There was a theatrical intensity about both her manner and her +words which was singularly out of place when compared with the +matter-of-fact ribaldry which seemed to mark the husky utterance +of the man in the bed. Its inappropriateness seemed to strike +the others. After a perceptible pause the man in the bed +wheezed-- + +"Leave God out of it". Presently he added, still more wheezily, +"Come here, Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame". + +The doctor moved towards her. + +"Can I assist you, Mrs. Grahame, to your husband's side?" With +the doctor's aid she gained the bed. "Laird, here's your wife; +can you see her?" + +Isabel saw the man whom she had taken to be her husband. The +sight of him shocked her. She told herself that she had never +seen a more dreadful object even in her dreams. His size was +abnormal. Not only was he naturally a big man, but his frame had +become swollen and bloated till it was monstrous--a horror to +look upon. His head and face were covered with scanty red hair, +which needed cutting. He had a huge head, and his neck was so +short and thick that it conveyed a grotesque impression that his +head sprang directly from his trunk. His whole form seemed to be +afflicted with some sort of tetanus, so that he was rigid, +immovable. He lay on his back, with his arms straight down at +his sides. Through his parted lips came jerky, stertorous +breaths. His eyelids were partially open, but only the whites of +his eyes were visible; his own words made it clear that they +were of little use to him as organs of sight. + +"See her? No, I can't see her. I don't want to." + +As he spoke a tremor passed all over him. His whole frame +heaved; as if seized by a sudden convulsion he began fighting +for his life. The doctor spoke to her. + +"You had better go, unless you'd like to see the last of him. +This is likely to be the end. He'll hardly win through another +bout." + +He moved towards the bed, Nannie joining him. Isabel was left to +her own devices. Powerless to move far unaided it was all she +could do to stagger to the nearest chair. In it she sat, +waiting, watching, listening, like an unwilling spectator in +some bad dream. It was a scene which she never wholly forgot. +The dim light, the quaintly furnished room, the figures of the +old man and woman bending this way, then that, as they struggled +with the creature on the bed. What ailed him she did not know; +she vaguely surmised that he might be in the throes of some kind +of epileptic fit. His contortions shook the bed, indeed the +room. He kept uttering sounds which had a disagreeable +resemblance to the half-strangled yelps of some wild beast. + +How long it lasted she did not know. Long enough to strain her +already highly strung nerves almost beyond endurance. At last +there came a lull. The man on the bed was first quieter, then +still. She took advantage of the silence to exclaim:-- + +"Can't you take me away somewhere? You know I can't move. If I +have to stay here much longer I--I shall make a fool of myself." + +The doctor and Nannie paid her no heed. Side by side they were +stooping together over the silent figure. After affording them +what she deemed a more than sufficient opportunity to answer, +she appealed to them again. + +"Can't you hear me? Take me away somewhere--I don't care where! +I'll go mad if you don't." + +The doctor did not answer her directly; he spoke to Nannie. + +"Do as she bids you; take her away." + +"Where'll I take her?" the woman asked. + +"Take her and put her to bed in the best bedroom. Remember that +she's now the mistress of this house." + +Nannie moved towards Isabel. For a woman, she was tall and +brawny, but she was probably well past fifty, and Isabel +certainly had not credited her with the capacity to do what she +immediately did. She eyed the stranger for a moment in silence, +then she asked, in the broadest Scotch:-- + +"Can't you walk by your own self?" + +Isabel resented both the tone and the scrutiny. + +"You know I can't." + +Without more ado the woman, stooping, put her arms about her and +lifted her bodily from the chair as if she were some great +child. Isabel was taken by surprise, and a little alarmed. + +"You'll drop me!" she cried. + +"I'll not drop you; you're nothing of a weight." + +As if to prove it, the old woman bore her from the room, across +the landing, to another room on the other side, one which was in +darkness. But Nannie seemed to know its geography by instinct. +She deposited her burden on what Isabel realised was a bed. +Striking a match on a box which she took from her pocket, she +lit some candles which stood on the mantelshelf. Isabel, +remaining where she had been placed, eyed her as she moved +about. + +"You're very strong." + +"I'm not so strong as once I was. There was a time when I'd have +carried four of you, and thought nothing of it either. Now can +you undress yourself, or will you be needing me to do it for +you?" + +"Thank you, I think I can undress myself; but if you would help +me take the boot off my bad foot." + +Nannie bent over the foot which the other extended. She regarded +it in silence, then, still without a word, she left the room. So +soon as she was gone Isabel dragged the glove which contained +her wedding-ring out of her belt, and the canvas bag which had +come out of Mrs. Macconichie's tobacco jar from her bodice, and +thrust them as far as possible under the bolster which was +beneath the pillow on which she was reclining. Scarcely had she +done this when Nannie reappeared, in her hands a pair of large +scissors. With their aid she proceeded, still speechless, to +cut, first, the laces of Isabel's boot, and then the boot +itself, till it came away from her foot. As it came away she did +what she boasted she had never before done in her life--she +fainted. When she came to herself again she found that Nannie, +who had apparently remained indifferent to the fact that her +senses had left her, having bathed her foot and ankle, was +putting the finishing touches to the bandages in which she had +swathed it. When the bandage was completed the old woman, still +without vouchsafing a word, began to undress her, and did it +with a deftness and neatness which would have done her credit +had she played the part of lady's-maid her whole life long. +Almost before she knew it, she was ready for the sheets, and so +soon as she was ready she was placed between them. + +"You're very good to me," she murmured, with a luxurious sigh, +as she recognised what a delicious feeling it was to be between +them. + +"I'm not good to you--anyway I'm not wanting to be good to you." + +Isabel looked up with surprise; the tone was almost savage. + +"Why not? Don't you think that you will like me?" + +"Like you!--like you!" + +The emphasis with which the words were repeated was +unmistakable. It would have been difficult for scorn to have +been more eloquent. Without condescending to further speech, as +if everything had been said which could be said, Nannie moved +towards the door. Isabel put a question to her as she reached +it. + +"Is my husband dead?" + +Nannie turned swiftly round to her. + +"Your--what?" + +"My husband." + +"Your husband!--your husband!" + +Again the repetition was marked by the same wealth of scorn. +Isabel was moved to some show of resentment. + +"He is my husband--you know he's my husband." + +"Oh, he's your husband, Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame. I'm not doubting +it, ma'am, or that you're a fit and proper wife for him. I'm +ready to tell to any one that you're a well-matched pair." + +"Is he dead?" + +As she repeated her inquiry Isabel's manner was a trifle more +subdued; she was finding Nannie a difficult person to contend +with. + +"You'd better be asking Dr. Twelves if your husband's dead, +ma'am; he's a surer judge of dead folk than I am. You'll be +feeling anxious till you know, and so I'll tell the doctor. When +a woman's been acquainted with a man so long as you've been +acquainted with your man, so that you've come to know all the +secrets of his heart, and the very shape and fashion of the soul +which God has lent him, to be sure all her nature stirs within +her when she begins to fear he's near to dying. It's hard to +lose the husband to whom you've only been married a couple of +minutes, so I'll tell the doctor to hurry and let you know if +you're a widow before you're a wife." + +Without giving Isabel a chance to retort, Nannie opened the door +with a swishing movement, which was in harmony with her state of +mind, and vanished from the chamber. + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + A SECOND HONEYMOON + + +She had slept well; Isabel admitted so much. She suspected +something else, that the morning was far advanced. There was +that in the atmosphere which conveyed that impression. +Apparently some one had been in while she still slept and put +the room in order. The blinds were up, the curtains drawn back, +the sun streamed in through the small square windows which were +set deep in the thickness of the wall. As she looked about her, +from her vantage place on the pillow, she felt that this was the +queerest place she ever had been in. Everything, including the +room itself, seemed to her to be hundreds of years old. The +paper on the walls was like nothing she had ever seen before. +The furniture was of the oddest shapes; indeed, what some of the +articles might be intended for was beyond her comprehension. As +she gradually absorbed it all, she began to be conscious of an +almost eerie feeling that she had woke up in some ancient +habitation and in some bygone age of which she had no knowledge. + +Then something else forced itself on her attention, she felt +that she was helpless. As she tried to turn in bed, the better +to enable her to see what was to be seen, a spasm of pain passed +over her, which was so acute that she had to shut her eyes and +bite her lips to prevent herself from crying out. For some +moments she lay quite still, waiting for the pain to go. It was +some time before it diminished; even when it was easier she +learnt, to her dismay, that she would have to be very careful in +her movements if she did not wish it to return with probably +increasing violence. Her foot seemed, from the feel of it, to be +about as bad as it could be. It was not only useless, it held +her prisoner. The slightest attempt to move it in any direction +resulted in the keenest anguish. It seemed that relief from +almost unendurable torment could only be obtained by remaining +entirely quiescent. That meant, in effect, that she was chained, +possibly for an indefinite period, to the bed in which she was +lying. An agreeable prospect! + +As the true inwardness of the position began to dawn on her, in +phantasmagoric procession the events of the previous night +flashed across her mind. The letter to her husband--to Gregory +Lamb--which she had opened and read, the letter with the +Islington post-mark, containing the curt refusal to accord him +further help; the resolution to leave him, which she had +instantly arrived at after its perusal; her visit to Mrs. +Macconichie's sitting-room; her forcible entry into the china +cupboard; her abstraction of the canvas bag from the tobacco +jar. + +At this point, her thoughts branching off in another direction, +she felt, gingerly enough, for it seemed that movement of any +sort meant pain, under the bolster, and produced from it the +bag in question and the glove in which she had secreted the +wedding-ring. The sight of the ring started her thoughts +travelling again. + +To her flight through the darkness, with the leather handbag. By +the way, what had become of that bag? She had no recollection of +having done anything with it. Possibly she had put it down when +she had sprained her ankle, and, in her trouble, had forgotten +its existence; in which case it might be still upon the moor. If +it were found, and nothing could be learned of her, what +deductions would be drawn? She wondered. One thing was certain, +it contained all her worldly possessions. Without it she had not +so much as a pocket-handkerchief, not to speak of such a +necessity of existence as a brush and comb. + +Then the trap had come through the night, and borne her to the +house in which she lay. There she had been married to a man upon +his death-bed. Such a man and such a death-bed! Could it be +possible? She clenched her fists, and asked herself if the whole +business had not been the wild imaginings of some disordered +dream. Even to herself she could not furnish a satisfactory +answer. + +Why had she suffered herself to be dragged through such a +farce?--to play a part in such an odious scene? Because that old +man who called himself a doctor had told her that the creature +would be dead within two hours, and that then she would be +richer by twenty thousand pounds. Twenty thousand pounds! Could +that part of the tale be possible? Why, in that case, this +house, the very room in which she was, the queer furniture which +filled it, all might be hers. She would be a wealthy woman, who +had won her wealth so easily without incurring risk worth +mention. Because, even in the storm and stress of the moment, +she had understood that bigamy was bigamy, even though one of +the marriages into which she had entered was a Scotch one. Of +course, nothing could make that marriage of the night before a +real one, since she was a wife already. But, as the man was +dead, and she was supposed to be his widow, if fortune favoured +her the truth never need come out. She believed that she was +clever enough to conceal it--at any rate from whom it was worth +her while to do so. Only let her get hold of the twenty thousand +pounds, or so much of it as could be turned into ready cash--let +them find out afterwards what they chose--they would find it +hard to get the money back from her. Twenty thousand pounds! She +fancied herself letting go of such a sum as that if she once had +it in her grip! + +The first thing she had to do was to inform herself as fully as +possible as to the actual situation. If she was a widow, and her +husband had died without a will--he had certainly not made one +after marrying her, while the doctor had assured her that +marriage had rendered nugatory any he might have made +before--then this house, and all that it contained, if it had +been his property, was now hers. At least she hoped it was, +because, after a little muddled consideration, it began to occur +to her that, by English law, a wife did not necessarily inherit +all that a husband who had died intestate left behind him. +Exactly what share was hers she was not sure, but she had a more +or less dim conviction that it was less than the whole. The same +objectionable law might obtain in Scotland, or even a worse one. +The sooner she ascertained exactly how the ground lay the better +it would be for her peace of mind. So she began to call +attention to the fact that she was wide awake. Since there was +apparently no bell within reach, she had to make the best use of +her voice. + +"Nannie!" she called. "Nannie! Nannie!" And she kept on calling, +because there was none that answered. Her voice was a strong +one--she exerted it to the utmost--but it seemed that it was not +strong enough to reach any one outside that room. She shouted +till she was hoarse, and angry too, quite in vain; nothing +resulted. + +"If there's any one in the house they must hear me, and I expect +they do, only they don't choose to come. Oh, if it weren't for +this foot of mine! That Nannie's an insolent hag. She knows +perfectly well that I can't move, and thinks she can treat me as +she likes. If I could move I'd soon show her. Nannie! Nannie!" +She shouted till she could really shout no longer. No one came; +nor was there anything to show that she was heard. She began to +be possessed by a fresh alarm. "I wonder if the house is empty? +Suppose that old hag has gone off and left me alone in the house +with that--that dead man. I'll be bound she's quite capable of +doing it--old wretch! I shall starve to death! Nannie! Nannie!" + +But all the strength had gone out of her voice--it was not +strange that those muffled tones remained unheeded--a fact of +which she herself was conscious. At last, wholly exhausted, she +lay and thought hard things of every one. She was genuinely +hungry. She told herself that if some one did not come soon and +bring her food something would have to be done, though she had +not the faintest notion what. Self-help was out of the question; +she was as powerless to move as if she had been riveted to the +bed. + +She was rapidly reaching a despairing stage when Nannie entered +with a tray in her hand, quite calmly, as if it were the most +natural thing in the world that she should come just then and +not before. Isabel broke into angry expostulation. + +"Why have you kept me waiting. Why didn't you come before? You +must have heard me long ago--you're not stone deaf. I've +screamed myself hoarse." + +Nannie placed the tray upon a table. Then, with the most +matter-of-fact air, putting her arms about the angry woman, she +raised her to a sitting posture, arranging the pillows so that +they formed a prop for her back. Divided between indignation and +bewilderment, Isabel submitted in silence; she was so helpless, +the old woman's manner was so masterful, that to expostulate +seemed vain. The tray was put beside her on the coverlet, Nannie +observing-- + +"When you've eaten your fill I'll come and take a look at that +foot of yours". + +"It's ever so much worse. I've been in agony--and am still. I +believe I've broken a bone." + +"Not you; it's no but a sprain." + +"It's more than a sprain--much more, I'm convinced of it. +Where's Dr. Twelves? He ought to attend to it at once. He said +he would come and see me. Why hasn't he been?" + +"He's been and gone hours ago." + +"Been and gone! Why didn't you let me know that he was here?" + +"What for should I let you know?" + +"You knew that I wished to see him." + +"You never said it; and, anyway, he never said that he was +wishing to see you." + +"You're taking advantage of me! You think I'm at your mercy, and +that you can do as you like with me because I can't move! You're +a wicked old woman!" + +"Am I? Then I'm reckoning that age is the only difference there +is between us." + +Burning words flamed to Isabel's lips, but she had enough +prudence and self-control not to allow them to go any farther. +She was at the other's mercy, and she knew it. The only way to +obtain from her some slight consideration was to endeavour to +appease, not anger her. Instead of giving her anger vent, she +put to her a question, the one she had put the night before. + +"Is my husband dead?" + +She received what was practically the same answer. + +"Didn't I tell you that for that you must ask Dr. Twelves, since +he's knowing when folks are dead better than me?" + +Without affording Isabel another opportunity to speak Nannie +left the room. + +If the new Mrs. Grahame could have got out of bed there would +have been some lively doings. It is not impossible that Nannie +would have found that she had met her match. When that lady was +really roused, and had a fair chance to show it, she was a +difficult person to deal with. But she was, literally, held by +the leg; as incapable of doing what she would have liked to have +done as if she had been an infant in arms. + +When, after an interval of no long duration, the ancient +servitor returned, Isabel did treat her to what she meant to be +a taste of her claws. For all the effect she produced she might +have saved herself the trouble. The Scotchwoman evinced a serene +indifference to anything she might say or do, which influenced +her more than she would have cared to own. Then the pain she +endured was exquisite. Nannie's ministrations were deft enough. +She set about her task like one who understood well what she had +to do, and was capable of doing it. She removed the bandages, +bathed the injured foot, applied hot poultices; so far as Isabel +was able to judge, did all that could be done. But the most +delicate touches could not prevent her suffering agony. By the +time the other had finished her anger was forgotten. All she +desired was rest--peace--to be left alone. + +For seven days Isabel remained, willy-nilly, in bed. All the +time the only person she saw was Nannie. Dr. Twelves never came +near her. Whether the fault was his or her attendant's was more +than she could determine. She heard no news of any sort or kind. +Nothing could be got out of Nannie. No answers to any of her +questions; only the fewest possible words on unimportant +subjects. + +It is true that during the first two or three days her ankle +gave her so much trouble, her sufferings from it were so +intense, that she was, in a measure, content to be left alone +and in ignorance. But as the pain lessened her impatience, and +indignation, grew apace. More than once she attempted to get out +of bed and to start on a voyage of exploration through the house +to acquire information on her own account. Since, however, her +attempts only resulted in disaster, and it was made plain that +they only postponed her convalescence, common-sense gained the +upper hand. She resolved to endure with as much calmness as she +could command till the time arrived when, at least to some +extent, she should again be mistress of her own powers of +locomotion. + +After the longest week she had ever known she decided that that +time was not far off. She informed Nannie that, since her foot +was now on the high road to recovery, on the morrow she would be +capable of getting out of bed, and that, therefore, get out of +bed she would. Nannie, as was her wont, kept silence when this +piece of information was vouchsafed to her. But that she was +impressed by it was evident when on the morrow in question, +instead of the old woman, Dr. Twelves came into the room. It +seemed as if Nannie must have told him that the time had now +come when it was desirable that he should make his re-entry on +the scene. At least that was the conclusion at which, at sight +of him, the lady in the bed instantly arrived. + + + + + CHAPTER V + + A CONVERSATION WITH THE DOCTOR + + +"So you've come, have you, at last! I suppose that old hag told +you you had better before I came to you? I should have come in +half an hour." + +That was the greeting the angry lady accorded her tardy visitor. + +Dr. Twelves seemed to be in no haste to answer. Coming to within +a foot or two of her bed-side he stood and eyed her. He looked +very old in the daylight, older than she had thought he was. +Short; thin to the point of emaciation. There was something +almost sinister in his attitude, in the way in which, inclining +his head a little forward, his arms held close to his sides, he +examined her keenly, as if he were some bird of prey, and she an +object on which he was doubtful whether or not to pounce. As she +gave him glance for glance she understood that this was a person +who was not so frail as he might at first sight appear. But want +of courage was not a deficiency which could justly be laid to +the lady's charge. When he did reply it was with a question. + +"Why do you speak to me like that?" + +"You know very well why! You promised that first night that you +would attend to my foot; but though I've asked for you again and +again you've never been near me once, till you were afraid that +I should be after you." + +"You've been in good hands. Nannie has done all for you that I +could have done." + +"I don't doubt that." + +"Then of what do you complain?" + +"You've kept me a prisoner." + +"Kept you a prisoner! I! Madam, you jest. Has not your foot had +something to do with your confinement? Is it not holding you a +prisoner still?" + +"It won't do long, so don't you think it. I'll be out and about +before the day's over, and when I am I'll make things hum. Is my +husband dead?" + +"Your husband?" + +"My husband! Are you deaf?" + +"No, madam, not yet. So far age has not robbed me of my hearing. +But to whom do you refer when you speak of your husband?" + +There was that in the fashion in which he asked the question +which caused her to clench her fists, tighten her lips and +descend to vulgarity--unfortunately an easy descent for her to +make when her temper waxed warm. + +"What are you playing at? Do you think you're clever, or that +I'm an utter fool? You're wrong if you do, you may take it from +me. Is my husband, Cuthbert Grahame, dead? I've not been able to +get an answer out of that old harridan, but I'll get one out of +you." + +"Then is Cuthbert Grahame your husband?" + +"Is he! Isn't he? Didn't he marry me the other night in front of +you and that old woman?" + +"Have you a certificate or any writing to show it?" + +"A certificate! What do I want with a certificate? You said +nothing about a certificate! Look here, old man, don't you try +to play any fool-tricks with me, or you'll be sorry. Are you +trying to make out that he's not my husband?" + +"Not at all; I am trying to do nothing. I should like to ask you +a question, to which, before you answer it, I would suggest that +you should give a little careful consideration. Would you rather +be Cuthbert Grahame's wife or not?" + +"I am his wife, and you very well know it, so it's no use +talking, and that's enough said. I ask you again, is my husband +dead?" + +"Your husband? That is the point which I am gradually +approaching. Mr. Cuthbert Grahame is not dead." + +Her jaw dropped open. + +"Not dead?" + +"Not dead." + +"But you told me----" + +"Precisely; I am aware that I told you. You will, however, +remember that I made an express reservation in favour of a +miracle. The miracle has happened." + +"How long will he live?" + +"Madam, I am not omniscient. I have once, within your knowledge, +failed as a prophet; I should not care to fail again." + +"Is he dying?" + +"I may venture to say that, at the present moment, to the best +of my knowledge and belief, he is not." + +"You are beating about the bush. You can at least say if he is +likely to live long." + +"It is possible, madam, that he may outlive me--even you." + +"Then you have cheated me!--cheated me! You have got me into +this mess by your lies." + +"Any injustice I may have done you was unintentional. You will +also be so good as to observe that I have just now offered you +something which was intended to be in the nature of a loophole +out of the dilemma in which you are placed." + +"You mean when you asked me if I wanted to be his wife. Am I his +wife, or am I not?" + +"It might present a pretty point for the lawyers. If you had +chosen to repudiate the connection, it might not have been easy +to establish. Nannie and I can hold our tongues--that I beg you +to believe. The occasion for a wife having passed, he might have +preferred to hold his too." + +"Would he rather be unmarried?" + +"That is not a matter on which I should care to positively +pronounce." + +"Then why was he so eager?" + +"I explained at the time. He had made a will in favour of a +certain person, which he desired to render ineffective; marriage +makes null and void any will which a man may have previously +made; under the circumstances that seemed to be the easiest and +the shortest way out of it. As matters have turned out the +measure seems to have been a little drastic, since he can now, +if he chooses, make a dozen new wills each day." + +"Is he so far recovered as that?" + +The doctor seemed desirous to consider before he answered. He +put up his long, thin hand to stroke his bristly chin. Moving a +few steps, he leaned over the foot of the bed, and from that +point attentively regarded her. + +"Madam, I do not wish to trouble you with the medical names of +all the complicated diseases with which Mr. Grahame is +afflicted. I am not sure that I am myself acquainted with them +all; some of them puzzle even me. Among other troubles he is +paralysed. He cannot move hand or foot of his own volition, or +crook a finger. Again, straying into the paths of prophecy, I +dare assert that he never will be able to. He has his +senses--after a fashion; he is sane--also after a fashion. That +is, he is legally capable of making a will, or of taking a wife. +But if he desires to affix his signature to a document a pen +will have to be placed between his fingers, his hand will have +to be guided. To that extent he has recovered, beyond that he +almost certainly will never go." + +"But he is not dying?" + +"No, madam, he is not dying." + +"Nor likely to die?" + +"No office would insure his life for four-and-twenty hours, +though it is quite within the range of possibility that the +breath may continue in his body for years. Such cases have been +known. Some people death takes at the first call; some have to +be called again and again; some seem to go beyond the portal and +yet return. Cuthbert Grahame is one of them. He'll not go till +death is very much in earnest; when that will be I cannot say. I +mistook death's mood the other night--the oldest of us make such +mistakes at times. In this case my mistake may seem to press a +little hardly upon you." + +She looked at him askance. There was a whimsical gravity in his +tone which was a little beyond her comprehension, a something +which was almost sympathetic. She changed the subject; a fresh +intonation had come into her voice also. + +"I wish you'd look at my foot. It's better. I think that before +long I'll be able to get about again as usual. I want to very +much; it's awful being a prisoner in bed. I'm not good at +keeping still." + +He did as she requested, then pronounced a verdict. + +"Your foot is better--much better, as you say. There is no +reason why you should not get up, though it may be some little +time before you have the entire use of it again." + +"At any rate I'll get out of bed--at once." + +"And, then, what do you propose to do when you are up?" + +"I'm going to see my husband." + +"Your husband?" + +"Can't I? Why can't I?" + +"Mrs. Grahame!--if it is your wish that you should be Mrs. +Grahame." + +"Aren't I Mrs. Grahame? If I am, what's the good of pretending +that I'm not? I am Mrs. Grahame, so there's an end of it." + +"Mrs. Grahame, haven't you any friends?" + +"What do you mean by friends?" + +"Haven't you any relatives? Is there no one to whom you are near +and dear? no one to whom you are in any sense responsible for +your actions; with whom in a measure your happiness or +unhappiness must be shared?" + +"No one in this world!" + +He smiled at her vehemence, observing her closely all the time. + +"Since I am, in a degree, responsible for the--we will call it +situation--you are in, I am not unnaturally desirous of having +my conscience as clear as I conveniently can. I would, +therefore, beg you earnestly to let the first thing you do be +this: If you have--we will say an acquaintance--on whose +judgment you can rely, write to him; lay the facts before him +clearly, and await his response before you take any further step +whatever--certainly before you seek to have an interview with +Mr. Grahame." + +"There is no such person." + +"It is unfortunate, since you are so young, and, therefore +necessarily, so inexperienced, that you should be so entirely +alone in the world. Will you allow me to offer you some advice?" + +"What's the use? I've had enough of your advice already--too +much." + +"How do you make out your case? I am unconscious of having +offered you any advice." + +"You advised me to marry that man." + +"I advised you!" + +"Of course you did. There are more ways than one of offering +advice; you chose the roundabout way. You told me that if I +married him he'd be dead inside two hours, then I'd be richer by +twenty thousand pounds. This is what comes of acting on your +tip! No thank you. I've had enough and to spare of your advice; +now and henceforward I'm going to act upon my own." + +"None the less I'm going to give you a piece of advice--of very +sincere advice. You have been subjected to some slight +inconvenience--though, perhaps, inconvenience is hardly the +proper word." + +"I should think not." + +"My advice to you is: When your foot permits leave this house--I +assure you it is not a pleasant one to live in; accept a +reasonable sum by way of compensation; then blot the whole +episode from your memory." + +"What do you call a reasonable sum?" + +"Say a hundred pounds." + +"A hundred pounds?--the idea! when you talked of twenty +thousand! None of your kid's talk for me! Look here, Dr. +Twelves, you're an old fox. Don't you think I don't know it +however hard you try to play the lamb? You've got some game of +your own on. I don't know what it is, but I soon will. If you +offer me a hundred pounds to go, I'm dead sure it'll be worth a +good deal more than that to me to stay--and I'm going to stay! +This is my house; I'm the mistress here; and all the more the +mistress because my husband's a rich man who can't look after +himself. I'll look after him! I'll show you who's who and what's +what!--and every one else as well!--you can take that straight +from me!" + +As he rubbed his chin, as if he found comfort in the feel of the +bristles, the doctor's smile grew more pronounced. + +"Content, Mrs. Grahame, content! Only--still a further scrap of +advice!--postpone your first call on your husband till you are +able to move about as you please." + +This piece of advice the lady did act upon, for the simple +reason that she was powerless to do otherwise. When she did get +out of bed it was agony to hop even as far as the couch. Three +more days passed before she was able to stand without flinching +overmuch; another whole week had gone before she was able to +hobble unaided to the door. + +During that time she perhaps suffered more than she had done +while she was still in bed. To her restless nature the +compulsory inaction was almost unendurable. Her desire to attack +the problem which confronted her, to solve it if she could--at +any rate to learn what really was the position in which she +stood--possessed her like a consuming fever. Nothing could be +got out of Nannie; she was impervious to questions of every sort +and kind. Arguments, coaxing, threats, alike were unavailing. +The old woman could scarcely have been more taciturn had she +taken on herself a vow of silence. And after that one visit she +saw no more of Dr. Twelves; she could even hear nothing of him +from Nannie. That angered her almost more than anything, that he +should seem to ignore her so completely! She swore to herself +that he should smart for it before very long. + +During that week she laid up a fund of resentment against both +the doctor and Nannie which she promised herself she would pour +forth upon their heads at the earliest possible moment. Only let +her be able to get about again as of old, and they should see! + +On the eighth day she decided that her time had come, or, at +least, that it had begun to come. She said nothing to Nannie, +but having proved by actual experiment that she could move about +with comparative ease, she dressed herself, waited till the old +woman had paid her her usual morning call, then set out on a +voyage of exploration. Hobbling to the door, she opened it as +quietly as possible, then stood and listened She could hear +Nannie moving about downstairs. Then she moved towards the door +which was on the opposite side of the landing. Had she had a +stick on which to lean her progress might have been quicker. In +spite of her reiterated requests Nannie had failed to provide +her with one. Without support of any sort she moved very slowly. +But she did get to her destination at last. She laid her hand +upon the handle, paused a moment to learn if her movements had +been observed, then turned it as quietly as she could. + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + HUSBAND AND WIFE + + +She stood just inside the threshold of the room, with the handle +of the open door between her fingers, and listened. She had +moved so noiselessly that, quite possibly, to the ear alone her +entry had been imperceptible. She looked about her, recalling +the picture which it had presented to her mind on that first +night. For some reason which she would have found it hard to +explain a shiver passed all over her; a sudden chill seemed to +penetrate to her very bones. + +The room looked different by daylight, the windows wide open, +the sun sending wide, warm splashes of yellow light from wall to +wall. One of them came right at her as she remained there +motionless. As she lifted her face she was blinded by the glare. +It was odd that she should shiver in that glow of sunshine. +Everything was so neat and orderly; there was such an absence of +any signs of occupation, such complete stillness prevailed, that +her first impression was that she had in some way made a +mistake; that the room was empty. It was only when her wandering +glance reached the great bed, which stood in such a position +that it was partially screened by the door which she still held +open, that she understood. + +Its occupant was asleep, or--he was so motionless, so silent, +her own heart seemed to cease beating--could he be dead? With +unexpected ease she moved closer to the bed. No, he certainly +was not dead; he merely slept, to all appearance, as peacefully +as a little child. + +Sleep produced no improvement in his looks. She went still +nearer, so that, by leaning over, she could examine him in +detail. + +The conviction which she had had at first sight of him recurred +with, if anything, even greater force. Beyond a doubt she had +never seen a more unprepossessing-looking man. She had an almost +morbid liking for good looks in a man. Gregory Lamb's handsome +face had had almost as much to do with winning her as his lying +tongue, which dowered him with splendid wealth. Her ideas of +good looks were probably her own--Gregory was there to show it. +But her attachment to them was so marked that she could with +difficulty be civil to a man who was positively plain. An +absolutely ugly man was to her an object of aversion; her first +feeling towards such an one was actual physical repulsion, as if +he were some unclean thing. + +There could be no sort of doubt as to the ugliness of the man in +the bed. His huge size was in itself a sufficiently unpleasant +feature. It lent to him an uncomfortable aspect which was almost +inhuman. He seemed to have swelled and swelled till his skin had +become as tight as a drum. One had a disagreeable notion that if +one pricked him, like some distended bladder, he would burst. He +was all bloated, not only his body, but his head as well, and, +above all, his neck. She had once had an aunt who had died of +dropsy. This man seemed dropsical from the crown of his head to +the tip of his toe--monstrously dropsical. + +Nor was his appearance improved by the manner in which his head +and face were covered with long sandy red hair, growing in +scanty tufts, with bare spaces in between. The hair matched ill +with his complexion, which was brick red, tinged, as it were, +with a suggestion of pallid blue. He slept so quietly that it +was difficult to be sure, at first sight, that his condition was +one of slumber, not death. As Isabel bent over, she did not +hesitate to tell herself that she wished he was as dead as he +seemed. The sight of him afflicted her with such a sensation of +aversion that she was then and there filled with an almost +irresistible desire to crush him out of existence, as if +he had been some loathsome reptile. She was possessed by a +shrewd suspicion that she had only to strike him a hearty +blow--anywhere!--to bring him to an end upon the spot. It would +be so easy. She had been tricked; he ought to have been dead ere +then. What was the use of such a creature living, and what +enjoyment could he get out of life? Where should she strike him? +She clenched her fist as if it had been actuated by an +involuntary tightening of the muscles. As she did so, he opened +his eyes, and looked at her. + +It was a curious moment for both of them--so both of them seemed +to think. There was in his gaze such a take-it-for-granted air +that one could not but wonder if he had not been conscious of +her presence even while he slept. The sight of a strange woman +leaning over his bed, with such a queer expression on her +countenance, did not seem to surprise him in the least. That she +was strange to him was plain. He seemed to be searching in his +muddy brain for some clue which would tell him who she was. The +search did not seem to be meeting with much success. + +For probably more than a minute they continued to look at each +other, the contrast between the fashion of their looks being +almost grotesque in its completeness. Her bold, handsome face +was, at the same time, illuminated by keen intelligence, and +marked by an expression of vindictiveness which gave it an +unpleasanter effect than if it had been actually ugly. His face, +on the other hand, was vacuous, expressionless; more, it was +incapable of expression. It reminded one, in some uncomfortable +way, of a piece of blubber, without form and void. + +The eyes, particularly in comparison with the rest of him, were +small; with the exception of the pupils they were blood-shot. +One wondered how much, or how little, they could see; they +regarded Isabel blankly, as if she had been a wooden doll. + +After an inspection which lasted, as it seemed, an unnatural +length of time, it was he who broke the silence. His voice was a +little clearer than when she had heard it first, but not much. +It still had the peculiar quality of appearing to belong to some +one who was at a distance. + +"Who are you?" + +There was a significant pause before she answered. In her tone +was significance of another kind. + +"I'm your wife." + +Either her words took him by surprise, or he did not gather what +she meant, or disliked what he did gather. He was still again, +as if ruminating on what she had said. When he did speak the +remark he made was a little startling. + +"Damn you!" + +The unparliamentary utterance, especially as addressed to a +lady, was accentuated by the matter-of-fact stolidity which +marked it. It was not impossible that for a moment or two she +was moved to give him back as good as he sent--and better. +Possibly, however, the impulse was changed, as regards form, in +the making. Instead of imitating the vigour of his epithet, she +cut at him with a lash of her own. + +"You're my husband." It would have been difficult for the +strongest language to have been more scathing than her plain +pronouncement of a simple fact. As if desirous of driving her +dart still further home, she repeated her own words, with an +even added bitterness--"You're my husband!--you!" + +It would appear that the man, object as he was, was not without +some sense of humour, and, also, that his feelings were not of +the kind which are unduly sensitive. After what seemed to be due +consideration of her words, he endorsed their correctness with a +brevity which in itself was eloquent. + +"I am." + +There was something in the two little monosyllables which seemed +to sting her more than his curse had done. She gave a movement, +as if she were disposed to let her resentment take some active +and visible form. But, again, maybe, her impulse changed in the +making; she endeavoured to put a meaning into her repetition of +a simple statement, which should make it strike him with greater +force than a blow could have done. + +"I am your wife." + +Once more he showed himself to be her match in the game of give +and take. Hardly were the words out of her mouth than he +endorsed them again, with what was almost like the semblance of +a grin upon his blubber-like face. + +"You are." + +"And I propose to let you see that I'm your wife." + +"No doubt." + +"Your real, actual wife, not a puppet, a thing you can pull by a +string." + +"Quite so." + +"You may imagine, perhaps, that I'm a mere dummy, an automaton, +which can be set in movement only when you choose. If you do, +you're wrong, as I intend to show you, Mr. Cuthbert Grahame." + +"Precisely, Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame." + +It seemed, for an instant, as if a torrent of words was +trembling at the tip of her tongue, needing but a touch to set +them loose; if so, the touch did not come. Turning, she went and +stood by an open window; resting her hand on the sill she leaned +out, as if she needed fresh air. She looked out on to a garden +which was evidently of considerable size, but which sadly needed +attention. The grass could not have been cut for months; it +competed with weeds for possession of the footpaths. There were +flowers, but they needed pruning; the weeds threatened to +choke them in their own beds. Beyond, the ground rose; +everywhere the slopes were covered with trees, pines for the +most part--scarcely a cheerful framework to what was already +bidding fair to become a scene of desolation. In spite of the +sweet, clean air and of the brilliant sunshine, in her +surroundings, as she saw them, there was a hint of something +uncongenial, unfriendly, which did not tend to make her mood a +gayer one. + +While she still seemed to be absorbing the spirit of the +landscape, Mr. Grahame's voice came to her out of the bed. + +"I want to speak to you." + +She heard him, but it was not until he had repeated the same +sentence three times that she chose to favour him with her +attention. Bringing her head back into the room she turned her +face slightly towards the speaker. + +"Well?" + +"Why did you marry me?" + +"Because I was told that you would be dead inside two hours." + +Although the reply was brutal in its plainness, it did not seem +to hurt him in the least--indeed, it seemed rather to amuse him. + +"That's a poor reason. What were you to gain by my death?" + +"Dr. Twelves told me that I should have twenty thousand pounds." + +"Did he? I see. That was the bait. You're a ready-witted young +woman." + +"You mean that you think I'm a fool." + +"Not at all; no more than the rest of your sex, or, for the +matter of that, of mine. We're all fools; only some of us are +fools of a special brand. Who are you?" + +"I'm your wife." + +"You've told me that already. I mean who were you before you +were my wife?" + +She moved her hand to and fro, restlessly, upon the window sill. + +"I've half a mind to tell you." + +"Make it a whole one. Yours should be a story not without +features of interest. Besides, a husband ought to know something +about his wife." + +She stood up straighter, her back to the window, looking towards +the bed with gleaming eyes. It was evidently easier to provoke +her to an exhibition of temper than him. + +"I'll tell you nothing. I'm your wife; that's all I'll tell you; +and that ought to be enough." + +"It is--more than enough. You're an embodied epigram. I think I +can guess at part of your story." The indifferent, almost +assured tone in which he said it brought her near to wincing. +"My eyes are not so bright as they were--no, not so bright--but +they're bright enough to enable me to perceive that you're +young, and not bad-looking--after a sufficiently common type. +You appear to be one of those big, bouncing, blusterous, +bonny--four b's--young females who spring out of the gutter by +the mere force of their own vitality; who push and elbow +themselves through life with but one thing continually in +view--self. You're probably ill-bred, ignorant, impudent and +imbecile--four i's--four which are apt to go together--and, in +consequence, blundering along rather than advancing by any +reasonable method of progression, you'll keep tumbling into +ditches and scrambling out again, until you tumble into one +which will be too deep for you to scramble out of, and in that +you'll lie for ever." + +To hear him, in his dim, distant, uninterested tones, mapping +out, as it were, a chart of her life and conduct, affected her +unpleasantly. When he had finished she had to pull herself +together before she could deliver a retort which she was +conscious was sufficiently futile. + +"I daresay you think yourself clever." + +"I'm afraid you're disappointed. If I'm not altogether to be +congratulated on having you for a wife, neither are you to be +altogether congratulated on having me for a husband." + +"Congratulated! My stars!" + +"Exactly--your lucky stars. Come, I've drawn a little fancy +sketch of the kind of wife you appear to me to be; tell me, what +kind of husband do you think I am?" + +"Think! I don't think; I'm sure you're a monster. You ought to +be in Barnum's show--that's where you ought to be." + +"That is your candid opinion? Your tone has the ring of genuine +candour. It's an illustration of how one changes. Would you +believe that once--not so long ago--I was remarkable for my good +looks as well as my figure?" + +"Tell that for a tale!" + +"I'm telling it for a tale that is told--and over. It must have +been a disappointment when you learned that I was not dead." + +"It was. I could have shook old Twelves when he told me. Perhaps +I'll do it yet." + +"Will you? That will be nice for Twelves. I should like to be +present at the shaking. You look as if you could shake him." + +"I should think I could--shake the bones right out of his body. +I'm as strong as a horse--stronger than most men. I once thought +of coming out as a strong woman, only I didn't fancy the +training." + +"Didn't you? By training do you mean clean and healthy living? +Is that what you disliked?" + +She had already repented her lapse into the autobiographical. + +"Never you mind what I mean." + +"We won't; why should we? May I take it that you have got over +the disappointment of not finding me dead, and have become +reconciled to the idea of my living?" + +"You don't look to me as if you would live long, considering +that you're as good as dead already." + +"You think so. We've not been long at arriving at that stage of +perfect candour which, I fancy, marks the career of the average +husband and wife. I think you're wrong. I am one of those beings +who are very tenacious of life. I'm only fifty, whatever I may +look. There's no real reason--your friend Dr. Twelves will tell +you--why I shouldn't live another five-and-twenty years." + +"I don't care what he says after what he told me. I'll bet you +don't." + +"Suppose I do, would you propose to spend them with me?" + +"I should do as I like." + +"I begin to suspect you'd try to. Let me put the case in another +way. What would you want to leave this house and never re-enter +it again?" + +"Twenty thousand pounds." + +"Is that your lowest figure?" + +"It is." + +"Thank you. I will give the matter my careful consideration. In +the meanwhile may I ask you to leave me for a time? My +conversational powers soon become exhausted; with them I am apt +to become exhausted too. A little rest might do you good." + +"Listen to me. I came here so that you and I might understand +each other." + +"We have gone some distance in that direction, haven't we?" + +"I don't think you have, or you wouldn't talk to me like that. +It may be clever, and cutting, and that kind of thing, but I +don't like it. I'm your wife, your equal, more than your equal, +since you're lying there like a log, already more than three +parts dead. I'm the mistress of this house; this room is as much +mine as yours." + +"Is it?" + +"It is. That's what you've got to understand. When I choose to +leave it I will, but not a moment before. So don't you order me +about, because I don't intend to let you, and there'll be +trouble if you try." + +"Am I to understand when I ask you to leave the room, my +bedroom, in spite of your courteous hint of a moment back, that +you refuse?" + +"You are; you bet you are. And you're to understand more than +that; you're to understand that if you're not careful what airs +and graces you take on with me, I'll stuff a handkerchief into +your mouth. Then we'll see what you'll do next. A helpless lump +like you to talk to me--your lawful wife!--as if I were nothing +and no one. I'll soon show you." + +"Will you? Maybe you'll first be shown a thing or two yourself, +my lady!" + +The tones were familiar. They were not those of the man in the +bed. Looking round Isabel found that Nannie was glaring at her +from the other side of the room. + + + + + CHAPTER VII + + A TUG OF WAR + + +Perceiving that Isabel made no reply, Nannie addressed her +again, with both in her manner and her words perhaps a +superfluity of truculence. + +"What for have you left your room and come here disturbing Mr. +Grahame, you bold-faced hussy?" + +Nannie's appearance and the vigour of her speech, both of which +were probably a trifle unexpected, seemed to take Isabel +somewhat aback. It was not unlikely that a rapid debate was +taking place in her mind as to what exactly was the _rôle_ it +was most advisable that she should play. + +One point was obvious, that the moment had come when it would +have to be decided, possibly finally, just what position in the +household hers was going to be. If she was to be its real +mistress--as she had boasted that she was, and would be!--then +it was out of the question that Nannie should be allowed to +speak to her in such terms as she had just employed. How was she +to be prevented? In her own way Isabel was not a bad judge of +character. In the course of her short life her adventures had +been so many and various that it had grown to be a habit to +measure herself against nearly every one with whom she was +brought in contact. Nannie was a dour old Scotchwoman. Isabel +was perfectly conscious that she was not likely to be +subdued--to the point to which she desired to bring her--by +words alone. She herself was wholly devoid of scruples. As to +self-respect, she was incapable of realising what it meant. She +had been brought up in a school in which that sort of thing was +not taught. Her early days had been spent among women who were +quite as ready to resort to physical force as the men, which was +saying not a little. As she had grown older she had never +hesitated to use her muscles when her tongue was beaten. She was +quick to perceive that this was a case in which she would have +to use her muscles again, if she did not wish to degenerate into +something worse than a figure-head in the house which she +aspired to rule. + +The only question she had to decide was whether she would be a +match for the Scotchwoman. It would be worse than vain to +challenge conclusions if she was likely to be proved the weaker. +Brief consideration, however, persuaded her that there was but +little fear of that. Her ankle was against her, and the fact +that she had been inactive for a fortnight. But, on the other +hand, though tough and brawny, Nannie might be old enough to be +her grandmother. Even though handicapped by her ankle, Isabel +did not doubt that she excelled her both in sheer strength and +in agility, while as to knowledge of how to make the best of her +powers she was convinced that, as compared with her, the other +was nowhere. + +She resolved to bring the question as to who was to be mistress +to an issue then and there--if necessary, in the presence of the +man in the bed. Instead of answering Nannie she put a question +to him. + +"Who is this objectionable old woman?" + +"My housekeeper." + +"Then, perhaps, you'll tell your housekeeper that, where I'm +concerned, if she can't keep a civil tongue in her head and mend +her manners, she won't be your housekeeper long--or mine +either." + +"Hadn't you better tell her so yourself?" + +"Does that mean you're afraid to?" + +"Never interfered in the housekeeping since the day I was born, +nor with Nannie either. She's always run this house as if it +were her own." + +"Then the sooner she understands that she's not going to do so +any longer the better it will be. If you won't make that plain +to her, then I will. Now, my woman, remember that I'm your +mistress, and that I'll stand impertinence from no one--least of +all from a servant of mine. Leave this room at once; I'll talk +to you when we're alone." + +Nannie seemed to be surprised almost into speechlessness by the +other's attitude and manner of addressing her. It was a second +or two before she could find words with which to illustrate her +feelings. + +"Of all the brazen impudence! That a nameless besom, picked up +from the roadside in the middle of the night, should have the +face to speak to me like that! And you to call yourself Mr. +Cuthbert's wife! Why, you're nothing but a shameless trollop! +And though the doctor said that Mr. Cuthbert was to be kept as +quiet as possible, if needs be I'll take you out of this room in +my two arms, as you well know I did before. So out you come +before I make you!" + +"Go it, Nannie!" + +The mocking encouragement from the man in the bed was to Isabel +as the final straw. She did not allow him to range himself, +before her face, on the woman's side. From words she proceeded +to measures. Traversing the room with a rapidity which wholly +ignored the twinges which proceeded from her injured ankle, she +planted herself immediately in front of Nannie. + +"Are you going to leave this room, or am I to put you out of +it?" + +"Me to leave Mr. Cuthbert's room, and ordered out of it by you! +It'll be you that'll be put out of it, and that pretty quick, +you----" + +Isabel did not wait for her to finish; she anticipated the +volley of compliments which had no doubt been intended to follow +by straightening her left arm in the most approved fashion, and +striking the other full on the nose with a vigour and +unexpectedness which caused the old woman to lose her balance +and go toppling over on to the floor. Before she had a chance to +recover, Isabel had the door wide open, and began bundling the +still prostrate Nannie unceremoniously through it. She was +conscious that words were proceeding from the man in the bed, +but what they were she neither knew nor cared. It was not her +intention, if she could help it, to continue the proceedings in +his room. Having got the other out of the room somehow, she shut +the door behind her, determined to let him know as little of +what was to follow as circumstances would permit, at any rate +till all was over. + +Then she waited for Nannie to rise, which she did with an +agility which did credit to her years. As the other had possibly +foreseen, the old woman was beside herself with rage. She rushed +blindly at her opponent, who was at once cooler and more +experienced in little discussions of the kind. Although hampered +by her ankle she had no difficulty in evading the other's mad +onrush, at least sufficiently long to enable her to receive her +with a hail of blows directed impartially at her face and body. +The proceedings had only lasted a few seconds, and were waxing +momentarily warmer, when they were interrupted by some one who +ascended the stairs. It was Dr. Twelves. As was only natural, +being very far from edified by the spectacle by which he was +confronted, he raised his voice to remonstrate. + +"What does this mean? Have you two women gone mad, that you +behave like drunken fishwives? Nannie!--Mrs. Grahame!--shame on +you!" + +Nannie, who had been severely pommelled, and had so far got much +the worst of it, abstained, for the moment, from her attempts to +return some of the marks of esteem with which she had been +presented, and proceeded to vouchsafe some sort of explanation. +As, however, she talked at the top of her voice, which failed +her badly, and had to stop at uncomfortably short intervals to +gasp, it was rather difficult to make out what she said, and +when that was done it was not easy to join her observations with +each other and supply them with a meaning. + +"Put me out of Mr. Cuthbert's room!--ordered me out!--hit me in +the face, that had never been laid hands on by any but my +mother!--knocked me about as if I were an old rag-bag!--a +bold-faced besom that's nothing in the world but the clothes she +stands in!--and less character than that!--before I've done with +her I'll strip her to her impudent skin!" + +Nannie proceeded to do it. The attempt could scarcely have been +called successful, because no sooner had she brought herself +within the reach of the other's dangerous left arm than she +received a smashing blow in the face which sent her staggering +backwards. The course of the combat had brought her near the +head of the stairs, uncomfortably near, as the event immediately +showed. Before she was able to recover herself, reaching the +topmost stair, she went crashing down it on to the doctor who +stood remonstrating below. Luckily for him he was on the bottom +step but one, so that he had time to move somewhat aside before +she was in his immediate neighbourhood. As it was she sent him +cannoning with uncomfortable violence against the wall, while +she herself came toppling on to the landing with a bang which +shook the house. + +Silence followed--a speaking silence. Above was Isabel, a really +striking figure, as, with flushed cheeks, flaming eyes, clenched +fists, straightened arms, she stared down on her victim in the +depths below. The doctor, more startled than hurt, seemed to be +in two minds what to do or say. With one eye, as it were, he +looked at Isabel up above, and with the other at Nannie down +below. At last he spoke, addressing himself to the triumphant +figure up above. + +"For all you know you may have killed her." + +"It will serve her right if I have!" came the defiant response. + +That she was not killed was soon made plain by Nannie herself. + +"She's broken my leg!--and I'll be bound half the bones in my +body!--the she-devil! Oh, doctor, what'll I do?" + +There came the voice from above. + +"You'll stop that noise! and if you're wise you'll cut out your +tongue! Because the next time you say a rude thing to me, or of +me, as sure as you're lying there, I'll have you dragged into +the road, and there you shall be left; you shall never set foot +inside this house again--I promise you that!" + +The doctor had been leaning over her, as if to ascertain the +nature of her injuries. + +"I believe you have broken her leg." + +"To be sure she has! Oh, doctor, doctor, I told you we'd rue the +day you brought her into the house!" + +"Next time I'll not be content with breaking half the bones in +her body--I'll break them all!" + +"Hush, woman! you forget yourself; have you no pity?" + +"I've pity for those who deserve it, but not for an unmannerly +servant who tries to bully her mistress, and then whines when +she herself gets thrashed instead! And look here, Dr. Twelves, +don't you think that I'm an ordinary woman, because I'm not----" + +"That I am rapidly beginning to believe." + +"Don't you interrupt me when I'm speaking, not even by attempts +to be smart, especially as you happen to be one of those silly +old men who are not meant to shine in that line. If you'd got an +ordinary woman into the mess you've got me by your lies and +humbug, I daresay you'd have been able to do as you liked with +her. I suppose that's what you and that old woman have been +reckoning on. But I want you to understand just once, and once +for all, that you're mistaken. It's going to be the other way +round; I'm going to play this game, in my way, not yours; I'm +going to do as I like with you. You'll take your instructions +from me, and from me only. If you want to be allowed on these +premises you'll treat me as a lady and as the mistress of the +house ought to be treated. Who's that down there? I heard you +sneaking about and listening! Come up here and let me look at +you." A shock-headed young woman appeared, followed, at a +respectful distance, by one still younger. "If you two are my +servants--and I suppose you are, or you wouldn't be there--if +that old woman can't walk alone pick her up, carry her to her +room and put her to bed, and leave her there; then go on with +your work and let me have no nonsense." + +All this time Nannie, who still lay motionless, had been +groaning in what was evidently genuine pain. The doctor, who had +been bending over her, remarked a little dryly:-- + +"I trust you will pardon me, Mrs. Grahame, but I think her leg +is broken". + +"Well, what of it? It's her fault, not mine; she's brought it on +herself. She may think herself lucky that her neck's not broken +after the way she's behaved. I'd have thrown her out of a window +if there'd been one handy, and it would have served her +thoroughly well right. I suppose you don't want her to lie +there, littering up the stairs, even if her leg is broken. She +carried me to my room as if I were a sack of potatoes, now they +shall carry her. Do you hear what I say, you two?" + +So Nannie was borne to her room with anything but the honours of +war. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII + + THE MINIATURE + + +Like some other persons, so long as she had her own way, and +nothing occurred to annoy her, Isabel could be quite agreeable. +Now that Nannie was laid low, and Dr. Twelves accorded her the +respect she demanded--at least outwardly, for she continually +suspected him of having his tongue in his cheek--she proceeded +to show that there was a side to her character which was not +altogether unpleasant. The household--what remained of +it--consisted of two raw damsels, whose English was of such a +quality that Isabel not infrequently found herself at a loss to +understand what they were saying. They made no secret of the +fact that they were by no means heart-broken at Nannie's +discomfiture. She had ruled them with a rod of iron, and they +were by no means sorry that some one had tried her hand at +ruling her--with distinctly solid results. Especially was this +the case when they learned that the new mistress was inclined to +be as lax as the dethroned one had been rigid. So long as the +work of the house was done--and there was not much of it as +Isabel managed things--they were free to do pretty well as they +chose, even to the extent of there being practically no watch +kept on their outgoings and incomings. + +The truth was that the new Mrs. Grahame was above all things +desirous that no watch should be kept on her. Most of her time +was spent in ransacking the house from top to bottom--an +occupation she enjoyed immensely, and found no little to her +profit. Now that Nannie was laid on her back, and--since at her +time of life a broken leg is no small matter--promised to remain +there for some time, there was no one to say her nay. Isabel +turned out every cupboard and every drawer; waded through every +scrap of writing they contained; appraised every article she +found--and, indeed, assembled quite a nice collection of what +she deemed the more valuable trifles in her own apartment, for +her personal use and consolation. She lighted on what, to her, +was a considerable sum of money. On this, she learned, Nannie +had been accustomed to draw for various current expenses. She, +of course, regarded it, there and then, as her own personal +property. + +Her first appearance out of doors took the form of a visit to a +neighbouring small town--not Carnoustie--where she purchased +such articles of attire as she imagined she required, together +with a trunk to contain them. These she paid for out of Nannie's +store. She did not think it necessary to inform Mr. Grahame how +she had used what was, after all, his money. She did not seem to +think it worth her while to tell him anything. + +Her mind was occupied with various problems. First and foremost, +she was extremely anxious to ascertain how much money the man +she called her husband actually had, where it was, and how it +could be got at, say by one who had a right to get at it. Almost +as if he were conscious of what was transpiring in her brain, +Cuthbert Grahame took advantage of an opportunity which arose, +or which he, perhaps, made himself, to volunteer some +information on the subject on his own account. The afternoon on +which the conversation took place would have been memorable for +something else, even if he had not seen fit to make her the +receptacle of some very interesting confidences. + +Isabel was an active young woman; healthy, full-blooded, +vigorous, one in whose veins the blood ran strong. Inaction to +her was punishment. So soon as her ankle permitted, and it +proceeded to a rapid and complete recovery, she spent a portion +of each day in taking the air--that portion of the day which was +not spent in prying into everything the house contained. As her +researches drew to a conclusion--as even the most thorough +investigation allowed them to do in time--that unoccupied +portion became more and more. So, having examined the inside of +the house she turned her attention to the outside, to learn that +her husband's estate was of considerable extent. She wandered up +and down it, to and fro, till she began to be almost as +intimately acquainted with it as with the contents of the +residence. One afternoon she was indulging in one of these +rambles when she received what really amounted to a shock. + +She was passing through one of the woods of which her husband's +property seemed chiefly to consist, and was resting on the bole +of a tree, when she heard the sound of wheels. She was perhaps +in a peculiar mood, because it immediately brought back to her +that night on which she had listened--with what an anxious +heart!--to the wheels of Dr. Twelves' approaching trap. +Passers-by, thereabouts, were few and far between; for days +together she would not encounter any. She had grown to love +seclusion, possibly for sufficient reasons of her own. She was +seated on a slope. The road began at the foot, perhaps thirty +feet away. She instinctively altered her position, so that, +while she could see herself, the trunk of the tree almost +entirely screened her from observation. She wondered who was +coming, peeping round to see. When she did see she drew back +with a start. + +In the dogcart which presently appeared was her husband--her +real husband--Gregory Lamb. The sight of him took her wholly by +surprise, and filled her with unwonted perturbation. What was he +doing there? What could have brought him to that neighbourhood? +She had taken it for granted that he had long since returned to +London. Even Mrs. Macconichie's--supposing he was still there, +which seemed unlikely--was a good twelve miles away. She was +conscious that he was not alone in the trap. Who his companion +was she had not noticed; she had not time. + +The vehicle drew rapidly level with the tree on which she +rested. She decided that she might venture to peep again, and +was just doing so when the horse shied so violently that the +cart was almost overturned. Recovering itself, apparently +getting the bit between its teeth, it bolted like a thing +possessed, and vanished from her sight, though not before she +had nearly convinced herself that the man with her husband--the +one who was driving--was Dr. Twelves. She had only seen him from +the back, and then had had but occasional glimpses through +intervening trees for half-a-dozen seconds, but she was almost +sure that it was he. There was, however, just a possibility that +she was mistaken, and it was that possibility which worried her. +She would have liked to have been certain, either one way or the +other. Then, in the case of the worst, she might have been +prepared. + +For the juxtaposition could but mean trouble for her. She was +too clear-sighted to delude herself with the notion that the +doctor was anxious to be a friend of hers. He had, to outward +seeming, accepted the situation; probably, in part, because, as +she herself put it, she was no ordinary woman; and partly +because, under the circumstances, considering the part which he +himself had played, he did not see what else there was for him +to do. Let him, however, learn how wholly baseless was her claim +to occupy the place which she had arrogated to herself, and she +did not for a moment doubt that he would use that knowledge to +oust her from it in the shortest possible space of time. + +The only two points on which she had her doubts were: Was it +really the doctor who was driving Gregory Lamb? and, if so, had +Gregory Lamb given him cause to even suspect the relation in +which she stood to him? On a third point there was no doubt--the +dogcart had been moving from, not towards the house, so that in +any case the peril was not actually approaching her now. + +Another thought suddenly occurred to her, one which set her +heart beating faster than was altogether agreeable. The doctor +and her husband might have been to the house already, in which +case danger might be awaiting her return to what she had learned +to call her home. + +That was a question which might be quickly resolved--she would +resolve it quickly. She started off homewards then and there, +telling herself as she went that, whatever had happened, or +might happen, they should only be rid of her on terms of her +own. + +It turned out that, so far, nothing had happened; to that +extent, at least, her agitation had been uncalled for. No one +had been near the house since she had left it; nothing had +happened which was in any way out of the common. The relief she +felt at learning even so much showed how real she had imagined +the danger was. With some vague idea of subjecting him to +cross-examination and learning if he had suspicions of her of +any sort or kind, so soon as she had removed her hat she paid a +visit to Cuthbert Grahame's room. + +As usual, he lay immobile between the sheets, preserving that +death-in-life rigidity which, it seemed, was to continue his +condition to the end. The sight of him struck in her an unwonted +note. + +"Don't you get tired of lying there?--especially on a day like +this, when the sun is shining and the breeze is stealing among +the trees and flowers?" + +She did not strike a responsive note in him. He was silent for +some seconds, then he asked, in his strange, far-away voice, +which was like a husky whisper-- + +"Aren't you well?" + +"Oh yes, I'm well enough. I'm only wondering if you're not tired +of being ill. It seems to me that you might as well be dead as +keep on lying there with only your voice alive--and that's +pretty nearly done for." + +She had returned to her more familiar mood. + +"Tired!--tired!" He repeated the word twice, then after an +interval went on: "What's the use of being tired of what has to +be? I'm tired of you, but it seems you have to be--so what's the +use?" + +"I don't see why you need be tired of me. I'm no more to you +than a chair or table." + +"You're my wife." + +"Your wife! It's because I'm your wife that I'm likely to get +tired instead of you. I'm not a helpless statue--I'm a woman; I +don't want a dead log--I want a man." + +"I was once a man." + +"You a man!" + +"Seems queer, doesn't it?" + +"I don't believe it." + +"Yet I was, physically, not a bad sample of a man. Now the Lord +knows what I am!--a husk, I suppose. There's a man inside me +somewhere still." + +"You look as if there were, and you sound it." + +She laughed, not pleasantly. It was one of her defects that her +laughter seldom had a pleasant sound, as if it were only the +spirit of malice which had power to move her to mirth. + +"You've confessed why you married me. Do you know why I wanted +to marry you, or any one? I'd have married your friend Nannie if +she'd agreed, but she refused point-blank." + +"Is that true?" + +"Quite. It was only when she persisted in her refusal that the +doctor thought of the woman he'd found in a ditch. Since +anything in the shape of a woman would serve he hauled you up +the stairs." She was still. She was standing in her favourite +position by the open window, looking out at the woods on the +slope of the hill. "Shall I tell you why, when already looking +into hell--and I had a good look, I promise you!--I wanted to +marry any one?" + +"I know." + +"Who told you?" + +"Dr. Twelves." + +"He seems to have imparted to you a good deal of useful +information. What did he tell you?" + +"That you'd made a will in some one's favour, which you wanted +to break, and that was the easiest way to break it." + +"Did he tell you who the some one was?" + +"No." + +"It was a woman. Do you hear--it was a woman!" + +"I hear." + +"A young woman--younger than you and prettier. Prettier? My God! +You're not bad-looking in a way, but there's a streak of the +vulgar in you now. No one could ever mistake you for a lady. +You're one of the blowzy sort; you'll become impossible; +hard-featured; flame-coloured cheeks; bold, staring eyes; huge, +unwieldy, gross. She!--she's the most perfect woman God ever +made, and she'll only improve as the years go by." + +"I've met that kind of woman before." + +"Not you. She's not to be found in the sort of society in which +you've moved." + +"She's to be found in the penny novelettes--never out of them. +You and your perfect women! In spite of her perfection you don't +seem to have found her all milk and honey, or you wouldn't have +been so keen to break that will of yours." + +"Do you know why I wanted to break it?" + +"Some silly nonsense. Because she tried to scratch your eyes +out, I daresay--serve you right if she did." + +"Because she wouldn't marry me." + +"Because----!" She stopped to burst into noisy, strident +laughter. "She must have been a fool. I should have thought any +one would have married you if you'd made it worth their while." + +"I told you that she was not the kind of woman you have ever +met; she's clean beyond your understanding. Put your hand +underneath my pillow--gently. You'll find a case; take it out." + +Isabel looked at him, hesitating, as if in doubt of his meaning, +then she did as he had told her. He was propped up on a nicely +graduated series of pillows. As she withdrew her hand, the case +between her fingers, she dragged one of the pillows with it +right from under the one on which his head reposed, so that, +denuded of its support, his head fell back. In a second he began +to choke before her eyes. His face grew bluer and bluer; the +veins stood out through his skin; he fought for breath; his +stertorous gasps shook him from head to foot. She raised his +head to its normal position, returning the pillow to its place. +As she watched him struggle back to what--to him--was life, she +laughed. + +"It wouldn't take long to make an end of you." + +By degrees he regained the use of his attenuated voice. + +"I do want careful handling--that's so. Still I wouldn't murder +me if I were you--it would be murder. Murder has to be paid for +in full. It would be hardly worth your while to be compelled to +render full payment for such a remnant as I am. Have you got the +case? Open it." + +She held a square Russia leather case, in corn-flower blue. She +looked for a spring or for something which would enable her to +get at its interior, but found nothing. + +"Does it open? I don't see how." + +"It's a little idea of my own that spring. I didn't want any one +to see what is inside but me. But it's so long since I've seen +that I have grown hungry for a look, so you shall have one too. +I think I should like you to have one. Hold the case between +your finger and thumb, one of them exactly in the centre of each +side, then press firmly." + +Obeying him, immediately one of the sides flew open in the +middle, revealing, framed in the other, the miniature of a young +girl. Isabel was no artist; she was incapable of appreciating +the artistic value of the portrait which confronted her. What +struck her instantly was that it was surrounded by what looked +like three rows of precious stones--pearls, sapphires, diamonds. + +"Are they real?" she inquired. + +"Do you mean the stones in the setting? They are. The pearls are +there because she is the queen of pearls; the sapphires, because +they are her favourite stones; the diamonds, because I chose to +have them." + +"They must be very valuable." + +"They cost a lot of money, and they'd fetch a lot. That is the +girl I wanted to marry me. What do you think of her?" + +"She is pretty." + +"Pretty! She's beautiful." + +"She's too fair for me." + +"That's because you're dark. I hate dark women--always have +done. Hold the case open in front of me. Let me look at her." + +She did as he asked. No change took place in his expression; +none could take place. His voice remained the same; that also +was incapable of modulation. Yet she knew that an alteration had +taken place in him; that as he gazed the man of whom he had +spoken, who was inside him somewhere, was stirred to his inmost +depths. + +"Not beautiful! She's the most beautiful creature in the world. +She always has been; she always will be. God bless her! though +He has been hard on me." Then, after a pause, "Take the case +away and shut it, and put it back beneath my pillow--gently. +That glimpse will last me a long time, thank you. Though I may +never look at her again, her face will be with me always to the +end. Before you close the case you might look at her again more +carefully. Perhaps, after you have gazed at her attentively, +understanding may come to you; you may begin to perceive the +beauty which was hidden from you at the first." + +She returned, the case still open in her hand, to the window in +front of which she had been standing. + + + + + CHAPTER IX + + THE SLIDING PANEL + + +The silence remained unbroken for some seconds. Then he asked-- + +"Well, what do you think of her now?" + +"I think she's pretty, as I said. You may think her beautiful. I +daresay plenty of men would; that sort of thing's a question of +taste. I tell you what I do think beautiful--that's these +diamonds. The sapphires and the pearls are all very well, but +the diamonds are the stones for me." + +"You would think that. You're the sort of woman who'd admire a +gaudy frame, and have no eyes for the picture that was in it. If +you like I'll tell you who she is and all about her. It may seem +like sacrilege to talk of her to you, but I think I'll tell you +all the same." + +"Tell away. I suppose it's the old, old story: she met some one +she fancied more than you. Men always do think that sort of +thing is wonderful. But I don't mind listening." + +"Yes, there was some one she liked better than me. That was the +trouble." + +"It generally is, while it lasts; then it turns out to be a +blessing. But, of course, you've never had the chance." + +"As you say, I've never had the chance. Her name--I won't tell +you her name--though why shouldn't I? Her name is Margaret +Wallace." + +"Scotch, is she?" + +"Her father was Scotch, her mother English. He was my dearest +friend. When he died----" + +"He left his only daughter, then a mere child, and that was +all." + +"That was all, and as you say she was a mere child. You seem to +have had some experiences of your own." + +"One or two. I'm more than seven." + +"So I should imagine." + +"You took her to your own home, found her in food and washing, +and pocket-money now and then. As she grew older her wondrous +beauty and her many virtues--especially the first lot--warmed +your withered heart. When she attained to womanhood you breathed +to her the secret of your passion, which she had spotted about +eighteen years before; but as she didn't happen to be taking +any, of course the band began to play. Isn't that the sort of +story you were going to tell, only I daresay you wouldn't have +told it in quite that way?" + +"I certainly shouldn't have told it in quite that way." + +"You had expended on her two hundred and forty-nine pounds +nineteen and sixpence ha'penny, besides any amount of fuss, so +her ingratitude stung you to the marrow. Still you might have +borne with her; you might not even have altered the will which +you had made in her favour, and which you kept shaking in her +face; only when she took up with another chap she seemed to be +coming it a bit too thick. You cried in your anger, 'I'll make +you smart for this, my beauty!' So you started to make her +smart; but it seems to me that you've done most of the smarting +up to now. Was it her cruelty which made you the pretty sight +you are?" + +"Not altogether." + +"Not altogether! You don't mean to say that when you wanted her +to be your wife you were anything like what you are now? A nice +kind of love yours must have been!" + +"I appear to have acquired a really delightful wife." + +"If you weren't a dead log it might be that you'd find out how +true that was. Any man with a touch of spice in him would give +the eyes out of his head for a wife like me, and there have been +plenty who were ready to do it." + +"As you yourself observed, these things are a question of taste. +So you think she was justified in treating me as she did?" + +"Justified for not wanting to marry a thing like you! You ought +to have been drowned for hinting at it." + +"I am myself beginning to think that your point of view may not +be wholly incorrect, and that, therefore, it was fortunate that +I did not die on the night we were married." + +"I don't." + +"You wouldn't--you have, of course, your own point of view. From +mine it is fortunate that I have been spared to enable me to +make another will." + +"How are you going to make a will, when you can't move so much +as a finger?" + +"I can have one drawn up according to my instructions. You will +find that I'm capable of signing it. Would you have any +objection?" + +"It would depend on what there was in it." + +"I see. May I ask if you are under the impression that if I die +without a will--even supposing our marriage is valid----" + +"It's valid enough, don't you be afraid." + +"I'm not afraid; you, I fancy, have the cause to fear. But I +say, supposing our marriage is a marriage--as to which I say +nothing either one way or the other--if I die intestate do you +imagine that you will necessarily come into possession of all I +have?" + +"Have you any relatives?" + +"Not one in the whole wide world." + +"Then you bet I shall." + +"You may bet you won't." + +"Who's got more right to what you leave behind than your lawful +wife?" + +"It depends. Under no circumstances would you inherit more than +half of my personal property, and a third of my real estate; the +rest would go to the Crown." + +"Half's something! Look here, Dr. Twelves told me that if I +married you I should have twenty thousand pounds. Have you got +as much?" + +There was an interval before an answer came. Possibly the man in +the bed was considering what answer he should make to such a +very leading question. + +"I cannot tell you exactly what I have got, but I may safely +venture to assert this much: If all I possess--land, houses, +shares and so on--were to be turned into cash to-morrow, I +should find myself with at least two hundred thousand pounds." + +"Two hundred thousand pounds! Go on!" + +"This is a curious world, and Fortune is a curious jade; she +bestows her gifts with feminine irresponsibility. She gives one +health and strength and youth--and empty pockets--just when he +could get enjoyment out of full ones. To another, crippled +limbs, physical helplessness, premature old age--and pockets +brimming over--just when money is of as little use to him as +pictures to the blind. I have been denied most things except +fortune. Sounds ironical, doesn't it? As with Midas, everything +I have touched has turned to gold--in my case a thing wholly +worthless. I never made a bad money speculation in my life. I +doubt if I ever made an investment which did not pay me ten per +cent. Some of my investments have paid me forty and fifty per +cent, for years, and are worth ten times what I gave for them. I +wasn't worth twenty thousand pounds when I began life; now, to +adopt your phraseology, I'll bet I'm worth more than a quarter +of a million." + +"And yet you live in a place like this, without a horse in the +stable, and the garden like a wilderness!" + +"Why shouldn't I? Where would you have me live? In a castle? +with an array of servants who would take my money and from whom +I should have to hide. A well-bred servant wouldn't be able to +endure the sight of such an object as I am. All I need is a bed +to lie on, some one to put food between my lips, money to pay +for it. Since here I have those things, here I have all I need. +Besides, you should bear in mind that, as nothing is being +spent, there will be all the more to leave behind." + +She was silent; her face turned towards the open window, the +miniature in its jewelled case still in her hand. His words had +fired her imagination. A quarter of a million!--this man worth a +quarter of a million!--and he supposed himself to be her +husband! Not long ago she had told herself that a certain and +clear five pounds a week earned by singing and dancing at the +minor music halls would be her idea of fortune. She had married +that deceitful humbug, Gregory Lamb, because she believed that +he might possibly have as much as a thousand a year. What was a +thousand a year compared to a quarter of a million! If he died +without a will half of it would be hers, or was it a third? Why +shouldn't she have more than that? If he had no relatives to +make a fuss, why shouldn't she have it all? + +Even as she asked herself the question an answer came to her +dimly, yet with sufficient clearness to start her trembling. It +was born of an idea which would have disposed most women to do +more than tremble. Her breath came faster; her eyes brightened; +something like a smile wrinkled her lips; the vista presented to +her imagination, which would have appalled most persons, +titillated her. + +After a while she asked, without turning her head-- + +"If you were to make a will, what would you put in it?" + +"I'll show you." + +"When?" + +"Now. There's a secret hiding-place in this room. If you tried +do you think that you could find it?" + +"I'd find it fast enough." + +"Then find it." + +"What sort of place is it?" + +"That's asking for assistance. I'll give you this much. It's in +the wall, concealed by a panel of wood. Now I've given you the +scent, follow it to a finish--if you can." + +"In a room like this there might be fifty hiding-places." + +"There might." + +"It would take days to examine it thoroughly; however long it +might take me I'd find it. I'd strip the walls of everything +before I'd give it up." + +"I don't think you need go so far as that just yet. Look round; +you've hawk's eyes; I've given you a hint; can't you make a +likely guess, like the sharp-witted child who is playing +hide-and-seek?" + +Isabel's glances were travelling round the room searchingly, +resting here and there, allowing nothing to escape them. When +they had traversed the whole apartment from floor to ceiling in +one direction they returned in another. + +"You are not tricking me? There really is a secret +hiding-place?" + +"There really is." + +"And you say it's behind a panel in the wall?" + +"That's it." + +Her eyes in their return journey had reached the great wooden +fireplace. Although she did not know it, it was a fine specimen +of old carving. What she did notice were the rounded posts which +served as pillars. There were four, two longer and two shorter, +each supporting a shelf on which there were ornaments. She +wondered if the posts would turn. Probably something recurred to +her mind which she had read about a movable post, though she +could not have said just what it was or where she had read it. +She had a notion that she would try if the posts in the +fireplace turned, when she was stopped by a remark which came +from the man in the bed. + +"You're looking in the wrong place; so as I don't want your +search to occupy you days, I'll tell you where it is." Even as +he spoke it struck her--rather as a vague suspicion than +anything else--that he did not want her to pay too much +attention to the fireplace. She waited for him to continue, +which he did at once. "You see the bracket in the corner on my +left. Go to it. Take down the vase which stands upon it, then +lift the bracket out of its socket." She did as he told her. +"You see the boss just at the top of the socket. That releases +the catch. Press it, then slide upwards that part of the panel +which is immediately at your right." + +Again she followed his directions. A portion of the woodwork, +three or four inches wide, and about a foot in length, yielding +to her touch, disclosed an open space behind. + +"There's an envelope in it, a blue envelope; take it out." + +There was an envelope, apparently nothing else. On the front was +an inscription, whose crabbed characters had apparently been +written by a feminine hand. "This envelope contains Cuthbert +Grahame's will, and is not to be opened till after his death." +The two flaps at the back were secured by big red seals. + +"Never mind what it says. I'm Cuthbert Grahame, and I tell you +to open the envelope, although I don't happen to be dead. Take +out the paper which you'll find inside. Read it; you can read it +aloud if you like." + +She read it aloud. The handwriting was identical with the +cramped caligraphy on the envelope. + +"'I give and bequeath all the property of which I die possessed, +both in real and personal estate, to Margaret Wallace, +absolutely, for her sole use and benefit.--CUTHBERT GRAHAME. +Witnesses, NANNIE FORESHAW, DAVID TWELVES, M.D., Edin.'" + +With the exception of a date at the top that was all the paper +contained. + +"That is the will you broke by marrying me, or, if you prefer +it, which I broke by marrying you. There isn't much to be said +for the phraseology--it wasn't drafted in a lawyer's office. +Nannie wrote it down to my dictation--at that table over by the +window there. She doesn't write a very excellent fist, but it'll +serve. That's as sound a will as if it had been drawn by a +council of lawyers, and, to the lay mind, a good deal plainer +than they'd have made it." + +"Do you mean to say that what's on this paper is enough to put +Margaret Wallace into undisputed possession of a quarter of a +million of money?" + +"It would have been if I hadn't married you; my marriage has +made it so much waste-paper. You may tear it up, or keep it if +you please; it makes no difference. I intend to make another +will." + +"What are you going to put in it?" + +"Exactly what's in that, only the date will be different. It's +the date in that which renders it nugatory." + +"Aren't you going to leave me anything?" + +"Why should I?" + +"Dr. Twelves told me that if I married you I should have twenty +thousand pounds." + +"I'm not responsible for what Dr. Twelves may assert." + +"You are--in a way, and you know it. Because he only brought me +up so that you might die in peace, and, I expect, at your own +express command." + +Mr. Grahame was silent, possibly considering her words. + +"A cheque for a hundred pounds would amply repay you for what +you've done--or I might make it a hundred guineas." + +"A hundred guineas! Listen to me--you're my husband." + +"You've observed that on some previous occasion." + +"And I'm your wife." + +"That also has already become ancient history." + +"I want you to understand just the way in which I see it. I'm +the mistress of this house, and no one sets foot in it--or in +your room--without my express sanction and approval." + +"Won't any one? We shall see." + +"We _shall_ see! I'll write you just the will you want, as +Nannie did, if you'll let me add a sentence leaving me--say, +five thousand pounds. It ought to be more--twenty thousand was +what Dr. Twelves promised--and you can make it as much more as +you like, but I'll do it if you make it that." As, when she +stopped, he was silent, she again went on: "If you don't let me +add such a sentence you shall make no will at all--as sure as +I'm alive I swear you shan't. I'll have my bed brought in here +to stop you doing it at night--you may trust me to take care you +don't do it by day. As your wife I've my rights, and you're a +helpless man. I mean to take advantage of my rights--to the +fullest possible extent!--and of your helplessness. You ought to +know by now that in such a matter I'm the sort of woman that +keeps her word." + +"I have a sort of notion that you might do your best in that +direction--from what I've seen--and heard--of you." + +"You can bet on it!" + +"Let me follow you clearly. Am I to understand that you will +draw up yourself a will identical in all respects with the one +you have in your hand, if I allow you to add an additional +clause by which you are to benefit to the extent of five +thousand pounds?" + +"That's what you're to understand--just that." + +"And that you'll assist me to sign it in the presence of two +witnesses?" + +"I'll assist you all I can." + +"I'll think it over. Five thousand pounds is a deal of money for +what you've done, and for the sort of woman you are; but--I'll +think it over. When would you do it?" + +"If you say the word I'll do it right now." + +There was a considerable pause, then he repeated his former +observation:-- + +"I'll think it over." After a pause he added: "Put back that +miniature underneath my pillow--this time gently, if you please. +Close the panel; replace the bracket and the vase. You may take +the will with you if you like, so that you may get it well +into your head. I'm tired--I've talked enough. I want to be +still--and think." + + + + + CHAPTER X + + THE GIRL AT THE DOOR + + +When Isabel left Cuthbert Grahame's room her brain was in a +tumult. She had so much of which to think that she found it hard +to think at all. The discovery that his wealth was so altogether +beyond anything of which she had dreamed as possible; the +unearthing of his will--from such a hiding-place; the facts she +had learned of Margaret Wallace, and which she had herself +embroidered--these things were in themselves enough to occupy +her mind to its full capacity for some time to come. Yet they +were far from being all she had to think about. The miniature, +in its jewelled setting--especially the jeweled setting!--was +likely to be a subject of covetous contemplation until--well, +until something had happened to it, or to her. Then there were +the pillars in the fireplace. Something--she could not have told +what--had filled her with the conviction that the recess behind +the sliding panel was not the only hiding-place the room +contained. She was possessed by a desire to examine those four +rounded posts--to examine them closely--to ascertain whether in +their construction there was anything peculiar. + +But beyond and above all these sufficient causes for mental +agitation there was still another, one far greater--the will she +might have to draft, which she felt certain she would be asked +to draft. The idea which she had at the back of her head, which +had prompted her suggestion, was of such a character that it +almost frightened her. Like Cuthbert Grahame, she wanted time +and opportunity for thought. She had it in contemplation to risk +everything upon the hazard of a single throw--everything, in the +widest sense of that comprehensive word. To put her notion into +execution needed courage of a diabolical kind. Failure involved +utter and eternal ruin. Success, on the other hand, would bring +in its train all the pleasures of which she had scarcely dared +to dream. + +On her return from her walk, having learned that Gregory Lamb +had not put in the appearance she had feared, she had sent the +two maids on an errand. They were raw, country wenches, +ignorant, slow-witted. It seemed hardly likely that, under any +circumstances, she would find them dangerous, yet she was +strongly of opinion that it was advisable, if, as was possible, +the deserted Gregory did call, that she should be the person to +receive him. Nannie was still confined to her room, so that +Isabel had but to be rid of the underlings to have practically +the whole house at her mercy. + +It has been said that small things make great generals, since it +is the eye for trivial details which wins big battles. The +little act of foresight which prompted Isabel Lamb to clear the +premises of that pair of Scotch wenches not impossibly changed +the whole course of her life--not because what she had foreseen +happened; what actually occurred she had not even looked for. + +The dining-room had a large bay window which commanded the path +leading to the front door. As she stood there, with her brain in +a state of almost chaotic confusion, something caught her eye--a +figure on the carriage drive. It was still at some distance; it +disappeared nearly as soon as she saw it. She kept her glance +fixed on its vanishing point. As for some moments nothing was +visible, she was beginning to suppose that she must have been +mistaken, when she saw it again. It was still to a great extent +hidden by the trees and brushwood, but it certainly was there. +Isabel instinctively drew back, although in any case she must +have been entirely invisible. Instantly her brain became clear. +The perception of approaching danger, which had on her the +effect of bracing her up, restored to her at once the full use +of her faculties. + +"Is it Gregory?" she asked herself. + +If it had been he would have had a warm reception. But it was +not, as was immediately made clear. The figure was that of a +woman--reaching a point where the ground was clearer, she could +be plainly seen. She was walking very fast, with long, even +strides. + +"Who is it?" the woman at the window asked herself. "It can't be +one of the girls--they won't be back for a couple of hours or +more. I know them! Besides, they don't move like that. Nothing +feminine's been near the place since I've been in it. So far as +I know, there's nothing feminine hereabouts to come. As for +callers, we don't have them. What's likely to attract a woman to +a house like this? Why, I do believe it's a lady--that dress was +never made in this parish. And--she's young! Where on earth have +I seen her before? I have seen her, but where? My stars!--the +miniature! It's Margaret Wallace!--come to see the man she +jilted! Here's a nice to-do!" + +The approaching figure had come clear of the carriage drive, and +was now in full sight. As Isabel had acknowledged to herself, it +was unmistakably that of a lady. The dress might be proof itself +to another woman's keen perception, but there was other evidence +as well. The way in which the stranger bore herself--her +carriage, the easy grace which marked her movements, at least +suggested breeding. As the face became visible all doubt was at +an end. This was certainly a lady who, as it seemed, was coming +to call. + +Was the purport of her presence here merely to pay a passing +call? Did she simply wish to make a few inquiries, and then +return from whence she came? Would she be content with a few +more or less civil words being spoken to her at the partly open +door, or would she insist on entering and being allowed to visit +Cuthbert Grahame in his room? In that case Isabel's domination +would be at an end. The chances were that those two had but to +exchange half-a-dozen words, and the castle which she had +already in imagination builded would resolve itself into an +edifice even less substantial than a house of cards. The wild +scheme of which she had conceived the embryo would never move +from that condition. The situation out of which she had +determined to wrest a great opportunity would be there and then +at an end if Margaret Wallace won her way past that front door. + +But would she win it? The fates were on Isabel's side. Nannie +upstairs helpless in her bed; Cuthbert Grahame still more +helpless in his; the two girls out--Margaret Wallace would have +to reckon with her. Isabel overrated herself if, in such a +contest as was likely to ensue, she did not prove the better of +the pair. + +A sudden thought occurring to her she hurried into the hall. By +some fortunate chance the front door was closed, so that she +remained unseen by the approaching visitor. She remembered that +she had closed it when she herself had come in; as a rule it +stood wide open. If it had been then it would have been +impossible for her to perform the part she proposed to play. As +soon as she reached it she turned the key--only just in time. +Within thirty seconds the handle was tried by some one on the +other side. + +"That settles it," observed Isabel to herself. "I didn't look at +the face in the miniature so closely as all that, it was the +setting which occupied me. I might have mistaken the likeness, +and it mightn't have been Margaret Wallace after all. But the +style in which she turned that handle gives her away. She's come +in and out of this house too often not to be aware that, even if +the door does happen to be shut, you've only got to turn the +handle to come in. When she found that it wouldn't open, I'll +bet that she had a bit of a shock. Holloa! it seems that she +can't believe it now. I daresay it's the first time in all her +life that she's found that door closed against her." + +Something of the kind did seem possible. The person on the other +side was giving the handle various twists and turns, as if +unable to credit that the door was actually locked. It was only +after continued efforts that the fact was realised. There was an +interval, as if the person without was considering the position. + +"Now what'll she do?" wondered Isabel. "Go round to the back, +and see if she can't get in that way? She won't think it a +possible thing that both doors can be locked. The odds are that +she's come in one way as often as the other. She won't come in +that way this time, and so I'll show her." + +On stealthy feet Isabel, stealing to the back of the house, both +locked and bolted the door which gave ingress to the house on +that side. As she was ramming the top bolt home a bell clanged +through the house followed by the rat-tat-tat of a knocker. + +"So she's concluded not to give herself the trouble of trying +the back door, at least for the present. Now what'll I do? One +thing's sure, I'm not going to be in any haste to answer either +her ringing or her knocking. Possibly if no one does answer +she'll be tricked into thinking the house is empty." The bell +and knocker were audible again. + +"She's pretty impatient; she doesn't give a person over-much +time to answer, even if one wanted to. What a row that bell does +make--sounds as if it were rusty. I daresay it isn't rung more +than once a year. It'll startle those two upstairs--it's a time +since they heard it. There she is again. She'll hurt that bell +if she isn't careful. I'd like to hurt her--if she doesn't watch +out I will before she's finished. That's right, my dear, give +another pull at it! Pretty rough on Grahame. If he only knew who +was ringing what wouldn't he give to get at her--especially if +he understood that this is the only chance he'll ever have; and +to have to lie there like a log, and let it slip between his +fingers! As for Nannie--that old woman's got the nose of a +bloodhound--I shouldn't be surprised if she smells who's at the +door. If she does I shouldn't wonder if, broken leg or no broken +leg, she tumbles out of bed and tries to get down somehow to +open it. She hadn't better. She'll break it again if she +does--if I have to help her do it! No one's going to interfere +with that door but me! I'm not going to have her hammering and +clanging till those two girls come back, that won't suit my book +at all. And as she looks like doing it the sooner I get rid of +her the better." + +The upper panels of the front door were of coloured glass, the +panes, which were of different hues, shapes and sizes, being set +in leaden frames. While it was possible for whoever was within +to obtain a vague impression of some one without, it was +impossible for whoever was without to see anything of the person +within. It was of this fact that the quick-witted Isabel +proposed to take advantage. Among the various accomplishments +which fitted her, in her opinion, to shine in the halls was that +of mimicry. Drawing close up to the glass panels she exclaimed, +in tones which were intended to represent the broken-legged +Nannie's-- + +"Who's that as wants to break the bell of a decent body's +house?" + +That the assumption was not entirely unsuccessful was shown by +the response which came instantly from the other side of the +door. + +"Is that you, Nannie? You silly old thing! Where have you +been? What have you been doing? And why have you locked this +door?--open it at once!" + +"And to whom will I open it, please?" + +There came a peal of girlish laughter as a prelude to this +reply. + +"Nannie, you are an old stupid! Do you mean to say that you +don't recognise my voice as well as I do yours? Why, I'm Meg +come back to see you again!--open the door at once, you goose!" + +"I'll no open the door this day." + +"Nannie!" + +"Margaret Wallace, I tell you I'll no open the door for you this +day, so back you go from where you came." + +"Nannie! how can you speak to me like that! How dare you!" + +"I'm but obeying Mr. Cuthbert's orders, and it's not fear of you +that'll stay me from doing that." + +"Do you mean to tell me that Cuthbert Grahame forbade you to let +me into the house?" + +"He did a great deal more. He said that if you ever came near it +he'd bring half-a-dozen dogs to set them at you. So take +yourself off, and be quick about it." + +"But, Nannie, I don't understand." + +"None of your lies! It's plain enough! So be off to where you're +wanted--if it's anywhere." + +"But, Nannie, what have I done that you should speak to me like +this? You always used to take my part." + +"It's no part of yours I'll ever take again. Are you going?" + +"I only want to talk to you. If you'll only open the door I +promise you I won't try to get in if you don't want me to." + +"I can have all the talk I want with you as we are. Will you be +off?" + +"Won't you let me have one look at you, Nannie, and give you +just one kiss?" + +"I'll have none of your kisses, and I never want to look at you +again till you're lying in your coffin." + +"Nannie! there's something about the way you talk which I don't +understand. It's not you to speak to me like this. I insist upon +your opening the door. I don't believe Cuthbert Grahame ever +told you not to--I know him too well to think that's possible. I +shall keep on ringing and knocking till you do open, and so I +tell you." + +"Then you'll keep on some time, I promise you that. I know what +Mr. Cuthbert's orders are better than you. If I was to empty his +gun at you I'd only do what he'd wish me to." + +"Nannie! But, Nannie, I've come all the way from London. It's a +very long way, and costs a deal of money, and nowadays I haven't +much money, as you know. You're not going to send me back like +this." + +"Is it the fare back to London that you're wanting? If it's to +beg you've come, I'll give you the fare out of my own pocket, so +that Mr. Cuthbert may be rid of you in peace." + +This time in the girlish voice there was a ring of unmistakable +indignation. + +"Nannie! you're a wicked old woman! I believe that you've some +wicked scheme in your head of which Cuthbert Grahame knows +nothing. You sound as if you were capable of anything. If you +don't let me in this moment I'll get in without your help." + +"How are you going to do that, pray?" + +"Do you think I can't? I'll soon show you! If you think I'm +still a foolish girl to be tyrannised over by you, you're very +much mistaken. I won't believe that Cuthbert Grahame doesn't +wish to see me till he tells me so with his own lips." + + + + + CHAPTER XI + + HOT WATER + + +A hand was raised on the other side of the door and brought +smartly against the glass. The whole panel shivered; the blow +would only have to be repeated two or three times to destroy it +altogether. Whipping the key out of the lock, Isabel hurried up +the staircase, slipping it into her pocket as she went. Although +she had no fear of an entry being made, she was very far from +desirous of being seen. That would involve the discovery of the +fraud she had been practising. If Miss Wallace learned that it +was not Nannie who had been addressing her in such +uncompromising terms, it was scarcely likely, even if driven by +force from the house, that she would leave the neighbourhood +without effecting her purpose of seeing Cuthbert Grahame. So +Isabel, determined that that should not happen, resolved to +adopt extreme measures. + +When she gained the top of the stairs she could already hear the +glass shivering in the door below. Rushing into the bath-room, +snatching up a couple of pails which the not too tidy maids had +left there, and filling them at the tap, she strode with them to +the landing-window which overlooked the entrance. She had filled +them at the hot-water tap, and the steam came against her hand. + +"It isn't very hot," she told herself. "There's just enough +sting in it to make her a little warmer than she is already." + +The window was wide open. She peeped out to see that the girl +was immediately below. Balancing both pails on the sill she +turned them over together. That the contents had reached the +mark was immediately made plain by the cries which ascended from +below. + +"Nannie! Nannie! you've scalded me! you've scalded me!" + +Isabel replied, still taking care not to allow so much as the +tip of her nose to be seen through the window-- + +"I'll scald you again in half a minute--you'll find the water's +boiling next time, I promise you. What's more, I'll take Mr. +Cuthbert's gun to you, as he bade me. You shameless hussy! to go +breaking his windows because he won't have you set your foot +inside the house that you've disgraced!" + +This diatribe from the supposititious Nannie was followed by +silence below. Isabel, who found the suspense a little trying, +was half disposed to venture on a glance to learn what was +taking place. Unmistakable sounds, however, arose just as she +had made up her mind to run the risk. Margaret Wallace was +crying. Presently she exclaimed, in tones which were broken by +her sobs-- + +"I'm going, Nannie. You needn't trouble to get Mr. Cuthbert's +gun, nor to wait till the water's boiling. Whatever Mr. +Cuthbert's orders may have been--and I know I've used him badly, +and deserve anything from him--I never thought you'd have +treated me like this. I've never done you any harm, and you've +always pretended that you loved me. I hope you'll never regret +driving me away like this from the house that has always been a +home to me! Oh, Nannie! Nannie!" + +The girl uttered the last two words in such poignant tones that +Isabel thought it extremely possible that they penetrated to the +woman to whom they were actually addressed. After a moment's +interval footsteps were audible below. Then, as Isabel drew back +behind the curtain, she could see through the loophole that +Margaret Wallace was returning whence she came. She moved with a +very different step to that which had marked her approach. Her +feet seemed to lag, her head hung down, and she kept putting her +hand up to her eyes to relieve them of blinding tears. Her +attitude was significant of the most extreme despondency. +Apparently some remnants of her pride still lingered. It was +probably those fragments of her self-respect which prevented her +from once looking round to glance at the house from whose +precincts she was being so contemptuously dismissed. + +Isabel watched the defeated mien which characterised the girl's +whole bearing in the moment of her humiliation with a smile of +triumph. + +"That's one to me. It's on the cards that it's the one that's +going to win the game. I guess she's feeling pretty bad. It +can't be nice, if your pockets aren't too well lined, to come +all the way from London just for this. I daresay she meant to do +the conscience-stricken act--tell him how sorry she was, ask his +forgiveness, have an affecting reconciliation, and all that kind +of thing. I expect she was drawing pictures of how it all was +going to be as she came along in the train. I rather fancy those +pictures won't get beyond the outline. She'll be trying her hand +at sketches of another kind as she goes back again. I wonder how +she'd feel if she knew how she's been bluffed by an insolent +adventuress, and that Nannie hadn't had a hand in the game at +all. She'd feel pretty mad! I wonder how Nannie feels if she so +much as guesses at what's been going on. I'll give the old lady +a call; and I'll call on Mr. Cuthbert Grahame. But before I do +that I think I'll write a few lines on a sheet of paper--on a +couple of sheets." + +Before she quitted her post of observation the unhappy girl had +vanished from sight. Isabel waited for some minutes after she +had disappeared lest something should transpire which might +cause her to change her mind and return. As time passed and +nothing more was seen of her, Isabel decided that she had gone +for good. Descending to the dining-room, seating herself at a +writing-table, Isabel drew from a drawer two large sheets of +paper, similar to the one contained in the envelope which +Cuthbert Grahame had instructed her to take from behind the +sliding panel. On one of these sheets she wrote, in her large, +bold, round hand, a facsimile of the will which marriage had +rendered invalid. + +"I give and bequeath all the property of which I die possessed, +both in real and personal estate, to Margaret Wallace, +absolutely, for her sole use and benefit." When she had finished +she surveyed what she had written, then added--"With the +exception of five thousand pounds in cash, which I give and +bequeath to Isabel Burney, and which it is my wish shall be paid +to her, free of legacy duty, within seven days of my being +buried". + +"That only needs his signature and the signatures of the +witnesses. Shall I date it, or leave the date open? I think I'll +be safe in dating it to-morrow. Now for another document very +much like it, but not quite, though as far as appearance goes it +must be as exactly like it as it can be conveniently made." + +She then wrote on the second sheet what was, with some slight, +but important, differences, an exact reproduction of the words +she had written on the other. + +"I give and bequeath all the property of which I die possessed, +both in real and personal estate, to Isabel Burney"--she +hesitated, then wrote--"whom I have acknowledged to be my wife, +in the presence of Dr. Twelves and Nannie Foreshaw, absolutely, +for her sole use and benefit"--she hesitated again, and this +time added--"with the exception of five farthings in cash, which +I give and bequeath to Margaret Wallace, and which it is my wish +shall be paid to her, free of legacy duty, within seven days of +my being buried." + +"That also needs but the signatures and--a little ingenuity." +She had made them, in all respects, so much alike, fitting into +the same space the extra words on the second sheet that at a +little distance it was easy to mistake one for the other. "Now +we'll tear up that old thing, which my appearance on the scene +was so unfortunate as to spoil, and we'll put the new will in +its place--with its brother." + +She did as she said, folding up the two sheets in precisely the +same creases, putting them into the one envelope. Then she went +upstairs to see Nannie. + +The old lady's leg bade fair to be a long time healing, nor was +a cure likely to be hastened by her impatience and general +unwillingness to take things easily. So soon as Isabel put her +head inside the room, Nannie, sitting up in bed, aimed at her a +volley of questions. + +"Why haven't you been here before? What's all the clatter been +about--like as if the house was coming down? Such ringing and +hammering I never heard the likes of. What's been the meaning of +it all? Where's them two girls? Why didn't one of you open the +door, like as if it was a Christian house? Why did you suffer +such a hubbub--enough to disturb the countryside? Who's been +talking in a voice like a cracked tin trumpet?" + +It occurred to Isabel that the last analogy was unfortunate, +since a "cracked tin trumpet" was a not inadequate description +of the screech in which Nannie herself was even then indulging. +The old lady presented a peculiar spectacle--in a huge, ancient +nightcap, tied in a big bow beneath her chin; a vivid tartan +shawl about her shoulders. The visitor replied to the whole of +the inquiries with an unhesitating lie. + +"Nannie, do you know that a dreadful man's been begging, and +trying to force his way into the house. If I hadn't turned the +key just in time I don't know what would have happened." She did +not, but the happenings would have run on different lines to +those which she suggested. "As it was he broke the front-door +window, and I had to pour a couple of buckets of water over him +before he'd go." + +"A man been begging, and trying to force his way into the house! +Such a thing's never happened in all the days I've known the +place." + +"I daresay I expect it was some one who's heard that you were +confined to your bed, and thought that I might be easily +tackled. He's found out his mistake." + +"Where's them two girls?" + +"I've sent them on an errand. Perhaps he knew that too, and that +made him bolder." + +"I thought I heard a voice I knew." + +"That must have been mine." + +"Yours! I haven't heard a sound of you. Who was it screeching?" + +"That was me. I was imitating your voice, Nannie. You see I +thought it might frighten him more than mine--and it did." + +"My voice! Do you mean to tell me that that rasping, creaking +screech was meant to be an imitation of my voice? I'd like to +know whoever heard me talk in that way." + +"Why, Nannie, I'm hearing you talk that way now. Don't you know +your own musical accents when you hear them?--and me giving you +a taste of them to your face!" + +Laughingly, Isabel treated Nannie to another imitation of her +curious nasal utterance then and there, and was out of the room +before the old lady had recovered sufficiently from her +astonishment to pronounce a candid criticism of the impertinent +performance. + +From Nannie Isabel descended to the master of the house, to be +greeted by some very similar inquiries. + +"What's been the meaning of all this uproar?" Isabel repeated +the lie she had told Nannie. "That was no man's voice I heard. +It was a woman's, and I could have sworn one I knew." + +"I expect the voice you thought you knew was Nannie. I was +favouring the ruffian with as close an imitation of her genial +tongue as I could manage." + +"That's not what I mean. I heard you imitating Nannie. Will you +swear it was a man at the door?" + +"Of course I'll swear it. Whatever do you mean?" + +"What was he like?" + +She seemed to consider. + +"He was rather tall and very broad, with a big red beard. He had +a cloth cap on the back of his head; his coat over his arm; and +he carried a huge stick--about as undesirable-looking a person +to encounter on a lonely road as you could very well imagine. I +should know him anywhere if I saw him again. Do you recognise +him from my description?" + +"I do not. I heard nothing of any man speaking, the voice I +heard was a woman's." + +"Of course it was; I tell you that that was me imitating Nannie. +Don't you understand?" + +"It was neither your voice nor Nannie's. It was one I have heard +too often, and know too well, ever to mistake for another. I +could have sworn it was hers; I could have sworn I heard her +pronounce my name. I was not dreaming--I could not have been. +That I should lie here, chained and helpless, and she almost +within touch of me! Why didn't Nannie go down to the door?" + +"Nannie?--she's as helpless as you are." + +"Where are those two servants?" + +"I sent them out on an errand long ago." + +"So that you've had me at your mercy, and if it was her, you've +had her also. That God should permit it! If you are lying to +me--and I believe you can lie like truth!--may you soon be +consigned to hell fire, to rot there to all eternity." + +"If the worst comes to the worst, that's a trip on which I hope +to follow you." + +"Swear to me by all that you hold sacred--if there's +anything!--that it wasn't Margaret Wallace at the door." + +"Margaret Wallace!--are you stark mad?" + +"I believe you're tricking me! I believe I heard her voice! I +believe I heard her pronounce my name!" + +"If I had thought that you could have got such an idea into your +head as that, I'd have thrown the door wide open, and invited +that murderous ruffian to walk upstairs to you. Then you would +have seen how much he was like Margaret Wallace--that is, if +she's anything like the picture which you showed me. You've been +talking and thinking so much about Margaret Wallace that you've +got her on the brain. Do you think that if it had been her I +wouldn't have brought her right up to you? You're very much +mistaken if you do. I'm no saint, any more than you are, but I'd +no more rob a woman of her happiness than you would--perhaps not +so much. You did try to rob her, and you got me to be your +accomplice--blindfold, as it were. If I'd known what you've told +me this afternoon I'd have seen you--and old Twelves!--the other +side of Jordan before I'd let you make a tool of me. Now that I +do know, I won't rest quiet till you've put her back into the +position in which she was before. Here's that will I spoke to +you about. It's the same as the one which was spoilt, except +that it leaves me five thousand pounds. Five thousand pounds +will be of no consequence to her, while it will make all the +difference in the world to me. After the way in which you've +treated me I ought to have something, and that's the something I +mean to have." + +Taking out the will which left everything to Margaret Wallace +except the Ł5,000, she held it out in front of Cuthbert Grahame. +He read it through. + +"That seems all right. Will you help me sign it?" + +"Of course I'll help you sign it--now if you choose, though I've +dated it to-morrow, because I thought that would give you a +chance to think things over. I tell you that I shan't rest till +that girl's back into her own again." For some moments he was +silent, then he said-- + +"Perhaps I was mistaken." + +"Mistaken about what?" + +"Perhaps it wasn't her voice I heard." + +"Man, I tell you you were dreaming." + +"Perhaps I was. If you'd driven her from the door you'd hardly +bring me a will like that directly after. Even if you'd let her +in, you might have guessed that she wouldn't have wanted to rob +you of your five thousand." + +"Of course she wouldn't, any more than I wanted to rob her. We +women are not so bad as that, whatever you men may think." + +"Put the will under my pillow--gently--with her miniature. As +you say, I'll think things over. Maybe I'll sign it to-morrow." + + + + + CHAPTER XII + + SIGNING THE WILL + + +Cuthbert Grahame did sign his last will and testament on the +morrow, though hardly in the fashion he intended. The way in +which he was tricked was this. + +Before the woman who called herself his wife went down to her +breakfast she paid him a morning call. He had had a more restful +night than usual, so that he was in an exceptional good-humour. +The sight of her seemed almost to give him pleasure. She was all +smiles and sweetness, which were real enough, since she hoped to +be shortly in possession of a boundless stock of happiness. He +began on the subject directly he saw her. + +"I'll sign that will of yours." + +"That's right; so you shall. But won't you wait till after +breakfast, then we can have up Jane and Martha to be witnesses." + +Jane and Martha were the two serving-maids whose absence +yesterday had been so opportune. + +"I'll wait. You'll have to have me propped up a little higher; I +shan't be able to sign like this." + +"I'll see to that; I'll do everything I can." And she did. She +communed with herself as she ate a substantial meal. "Propped +up? I'll see he's propped up high enough, I promise him--the +higher the better. He can't be propped up high enough for me. It +seems a dangerous game to try to change one paper for the other +right under his very nose, but I fancy I know how it can be +done--and with complete impunity. If he could move so much as a +finger it might be difficult, but propped up as he'll be he'll +be wholly at the mercy of my two hands. I think they're skilful +enough for the job they've got to do." Spreading out the second +sheet of paper on the breakfast-table in front of her, she +studied it carefully, with every appearance of complacency. +"Such a little difference and yet so much--only the substitution +of one word for another, and all the world is changed. I think +'whom I have acknowledged to be my wife in the presence of Dr. +Twelves and Nannie Foreshaw' is a positive stroke of genius. It +commits me to nothing, and establishes my position, because +while he admits his desire to claim me for his wife, there is no +reference to any wish on my part to have him for a husband. The +only trouble will be to prevent his noticing the difference in +the appearance of the two papers, which, however neatly I've +done it, is the necessary consequence of inserting those few +words. But I think I know how to manage that." + +She did; she credited herself with no capacity which she did not +possess. In every respect she proved herself to be fully equal +to all the requirements of the occasion. + +She returned to Cuthbert Grahame's bedroom so soon as she had +finished breakfast, the personification of brisk, hearty +good-humour. + +"Now are you ready? Shall we get to business? Is the will still +underneath your pillow? Shall I get it out?" She took from its +resting-place the paper which he supposed himself to be about to +sign. With the aid of some pillows she raised him to a more +upright position. Then she spread the paper out in front of him. +"You see, there's the will. Is that just as you want it to be?" + +He read it through. + +"That's all right." + +"Then I'll call up Martha and Jane to act as witnesses, and then +you'll be able to sign it in their presence." She called up the +two girls, who came up rubbing their hands on their aprons. She +said to him, "Hadn't you better explain to them what it is you +want them to do?" + +He explained. + +"I'm going to make a new will. Mrs. Grahame,"--he paused; one +almost suspected him of a desire to give the name satiric +emphasis--"has been drawing up a will at my dictation. I'm going +to sign it. I want you to act as witnesses of my signature. +Stand close to the bed so that you can see what I am doing. My +dear"--this was to Isabel; again there was the hint of an +ironical intention--"if you will bring me the will which you +have been so good as to draft for me I won't keep these young +women a moment longer than I can help." + +She brought him the will--or, rather, a will. It was spread out +on a slope, and covered with a sheet of blotting-paper on which +she kept her fingers to prevent it slipping. Only the last four +lines were visible--"it is my wish shall be paid to her, free of +legacy duty, within seven days of my being buried". What went +before was hidden; the familiar conclusion seemed to be all that +he cared to see. Leaning over him, raising his right arm, as +gingerly as if it had been a piece of delicate porcelain, she +placed his dreadful, helpless fingers somehow about a pen. He +spoke to the two girls. + +"As you know, I can do nothing by myself, so Mrs. Grahame, at my +request, is going to guide my hand so as to enable me to sign my +will. You understand, it is I who am signing it, not she." + +It was a strange signature--"Cuthbert Grahame," in big, +sprawling letters; some of them unattached to each other, all +slanting in different directions. The owner of the name, +however, seemed to view the result with undiluted satisfaction. + +"That's my signature--clear enough for any one to read. Now I +want you two girls to attach your names as witnesses to the fact +that I have signed my will in your presence." + +Isabel removed the slope to the writing-table against the wall. +Then each of the girls wrote her name in turn. When they had +done so they left the room. So soon as they had gone Cuthbert +Grahame spoke to Isabel. + +"Now let me have a look at that will of mine in its finished +condition. Thank goodness it is done. It's a weight off my +mind--a relief for which I have to thank you." + +Isabel stood at the writing-table, looking down, with a smile on +her face, at the paper he had signed. + +"Do you say that you want to see your will now that it's all +signed, sealed and finished?" + +"Yes; didn't you hear what I said? Then I want you to put it +under my pillow. I'll show it Twelves when he comes. He'll laugh +when he sees it." + +"I expect he will laugh. Is Dr. Twelves coming to-day?" + +"He said something about it. If not, then he'll be here +to-morrow. It will keep till then." + +"Oh yes; it will keep till then." + +"What are you waiting for? Why don't you bring the will? Don't I +tell you I want to read it again?" + +She went to the bed, the sheet of paper extended between her two +hands. + +"Here's your will, Mr. Grahame; by all means read it again." + +He read it, once, twice, then again. Then he tried to speak. It +seemed that his voice failed him. It was not pleasant to notice +the stammer which seemed to mark his struggles for breath. + +"What--what folly's this? That's not the will I signed." + +Her eyes were dancing with laughter. There was a merry ring in +her voice, as if she was in the enjoyment of an excellent joke. + +"Oh yes, it is." + +"It's not the one you drafted." + +"Oh yes, it is." + +"It isn't the one you showed me just now." + +"Isn't it? Are you quite, quite sure?" + +"Of course I'm sure! It's a trick!--a fraud! This is not my +will!" + +"But, dear Mr. Grahame--I noticed how you called me your +dear!--it is your will. Here's your signature, attested by two +witnesses. After all, there's only a slight difference between +the one you saw and this." + +"A slight difference, you--you----!" + +In his efforts to find an expletive to fit the occasion, his +struggles for breath became greater. She went gaily on. + +"The only difference is that I get everything instead of +Margaret Wallace, and that instead of my five thousand pounds +she gets five farthings. Surely the trifling substitution of a +few words won't matter to you in the least, Mr. Grahame." + +It seemed that it mattered a good deal. After a tremendous +effort he regained some portion of his voice, enough to enable +him to burst into a string of expletives. + +"You--you----! You----! It's a fraud! a----fraud! It's a +swindle! Don't you flatter yourself that it will stand! Don't +you think I'll let it stand! Wait till Twelves comes, then I'll +show you!" + +"Wait till Dr. Twelves comes? Suppose he never comes?" + +"What do you mean? What are you doing with that pillow?" + +"Suppose Dr. Twelves never comes, what is to prevent this will +from standing?" + +"What are you doing with that pillow, you----!" + +"I'm going to stop your saying such dreadful things. It pains me +to have to listen to such language." + +She snatched away one pillow from beneath his head, and then a +second. She had propped him in such a way that when he was +deprived of their support his head fell back, and there recurred +the scene of the previous afternoon. He began to choke; his +unwieldy frame was shaken by convulsive efforts to breathe; +stertorous gasps proceeded from the region of his chest. He +presented a dreadful spectacle. + +The sight did not seem to in any way affect the woman who was +standing by his bed, with the pillows still in her hand. She +pressed the bolster farther up his back so that his head +declined at an acute angle; applying her palm to the point of +his chin she forced it lower still. Then she said-- + +"I'll place the will as you wished me, Mr. Grahame, under your +pillow". + +She placed it there, under the single pillow which remained; +then she left the room. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII + + THE ENCOUNTER IN THE WOOD + + +Isabel crossed to her own room, put on her hat, smiling at +herself in the looking-glass as she arranged it to her +satisfaction, then went downstairs, and out of the house without +a word to any one. It was perhaps because she was conscious that +Martha was peeping at her through the stillroom window that she +began to whistle. She was still whistling one of the latest +possible melodies when, entering the drive, she turned off among +the trees and struck into the woods. Whistling was one of her +accomplishments: she whistled very well. The sound of her clear +pipe travelled far and wide. No one to hear her, or, for the +matter of that, to look at her either, would have supposed that +she had a care upon her mind. She bore herself like some +lighthearted, happy girl, who, with unstained conscience, looks +the whole world in the face, thinking what a delightful place it +was for a pretty girl to be in. + +As a matter of fact it was the bright side of the picture which +presented itself to her--the bright side only. In imagination +she saw herself, as she would herself have phrased it, with +"tons of money" and "heaps of friends"; the bright particular +star of a radiant circle. Everywhere she was greeted with +outstretched hands, glad faces and pćans of welcome. Her frocks +were the most numerous and the "sweetest," her carriages and +horses were the finest, everything she had was of the very best, +and she had everything the heart--her heart!--could desire. + +With that union of the practical with the imaginative which was +not the least prominent of her characteristics she there and +then began to inquire of herself what exactly in her new +position she should do. To begin with, there was the delicate +question of what she should call herself. Should she be Mrs. +Lamb or Mrs. Grahame? Should she revert to her maiden +patronymic, or should she start life again, with a fresh name +altogether, one more in consonance with her new position? These +were points she felt which would depend largely upon +circumstances; she might not have so much freedom in the matter +as she might desire. Then there was the question of domicile. +Where should she reside? One thing was certain, she would not +stay where she was--nothing would induce her. If she had her own +way she would never come near the place again--never! As for +living in his house!--in the middle of her brilliant imaginings +the mere thought of such a thing seemed to make her blood run +cold. + +On the instant her mood was changed. She stood still, amid the +trees and bushes. With clenched fists, a new expression in her +eyes, she looked behind her, first over one shoulder, then the +other, then to the right and to the left, as if in search of +something she had no desire to see. A sudden, strange reluctance +seemed to clog her limbs. She listened: there was only the +cawing of some distant rooks and the whisper of the breeze among +the pines. With a laugh at her stupidity, breaking through the +something which constrained her, she went striding on. + +But she had not gone far when a very genuine sound brought her +to a halt. In itself a commonplace, there it was the most +unusual of noises: it was the sound of footsteps, of some one +tramping through the forest. In all the time she had known the +place she had never heard a step except her own. Could it be +Margaret Wallace, still lingering about the haunts she probably +knew well and loved? It would be disconcerting if it were. If +they met--but that was hardly a woman's step. Could it be the +doctor? What was he doing in the forest on foot? Besides, she +had noticed what little pattering steps he took; this person was +striding. + +The walker was hidden from her by a clump of bracken which rose +to a height of some six or seven feet. He was moving in her +direction. Should she retreat? It could probably be done, and +before he caught a glimpse of her. Should she advance and meet +him? or should she wait until he came to her? While she +hesitated, the decision was taken out of her hands. The walker, +threading his way among the bracken, reached a point where the +stalks were shorter. All at once she found herself confronted +by--Gregory Lamb. + +She stared at him with as much amazement as he stared at her, +and her amazement was unbounded. Possibly he was the last person +with whom she would have associated the advancing footsteps; no +thought of him had crossed her mind. Not improbably, since she +at least had cause to suspect that he might be in the +neighbourhood, his surprise was even greater than hers. He stood +looking at her in bewildered silence, as if unable to believe +the evidence of his own eyes. When he did speak the observation +which he made was characteristic. + +"Well, I'm hanged!" + +Her retort was equally in character. + +"I wish you were!" + +"I daresay; but I rather fancy that when it does come to +hanging, where you and I are concerned, it will be a case of the +lady first. Where the deuce have you been all this time? and +what on earth are you doing here?" + +"What business is that of yours? Do you know you're +trespassing?" + +"What business is it of mine? and do I know I'm trespassing? +Well, that's pretty good, considering you're my wife, and the +way you've behaved. Do you happen to know that the police are +scouring the country for you, and that they're only lying low +because they think you're dead, or something?" + +"It's a lie! You're a natural born liar; you tell nothing but +lies." + +"Don't you think you've a little gift of you're own in that +direction? I do! It was bad enough to sneak off from me like +that; but to steal the old girl's money was playing it too low +down!" + +"What are you talking about? What do you mean?" + +"You know very well what I'm talking about! Do you think that I +don't know--and that everybody doesn't know--that you broke into +Mrs. Macconichie's cupboard and stole her savings? A pretty mess +I got into because you were a thief! You don't happen to know, I +suppose, that they locked me up for what you'd done, and that +they only let me go when I proved that that sort of thing wasn't +quite in my line." + +"Serve you right!" + +"What served me right?--locking me up, or letting me go?" + +"Anything would serve you right, you brute!" + +"Brute, am I? All right, my lady! if that's the way you're going +to talk to me I'll soon let the police know whereabouts you are, +and then they'll serve you right. A good taste of prison would +do you good, you dirty thief!" + +"Don't shout like that!" + +"Then don't you call me names. I'm not a thief whatever else I +am." + +"I'm not so sure of that. What are you doing here?" + +"What do you mean, what am I doing here?" + +"I thought you'd gone back to London long ago." + +"Then you're wrong, because I haven't; and what's more, I'm not +likely to go. I've been having a real bad time, that's what I've +been having." + +"Haven't those rich friends of yours sent that remittance you +were always gassing about?" + +"No, they haven't." After a pause, he added, sullenly, "My old +mother's allowing me a pound a week, and I'm living on that. So +now you know." + +"Honest?" + +"It's the gospel truth. So you'll be able to judge for yourself +how likely I am to be able to get back to London on that, +especially as she won't let me have a penny in advance." + +"A nice sort you are!--after the lies you told me about the tons +of money you'd got yourself, and the other tons your friends had +got!--a pound a week!" + +"Anyhow I'm not a thief." + +"And I shouldn't have been a thief if I hadn't listened to your +lies; and very well you know it. I've had enough of you; take +yourself off!" + +"Take myself off?" + +"Yes, take yourself off, before I tell some one to take you." + +"Well! you've got a face! If I do go I'll put the police on to +you, and then you'll sing a different song." + +"You dare!" + +"Dare!" he laughed, not pleasantly. "What is there to dare? I'd +think as little of putting the police on to you as I would of +putting a dog on to a cat. They'd soon show you your place, you +thief!" + +There was an interval of silence, during which she looked at him +over the intervening bracken. If looks could kill he would have +dropped dead where he stood. + +"Well, are you going to take yourself off, or am I to tell them +to take you?" + +"Who's them?--tell away! I think that when I tell them you're my +wife, and that the police have been looking for you for quite a +while, they--whoever they may be!--won't be so keen to interfere +with me as you perhaps fancy. There's another thing: you seem to +be forgetting that you're my wife. When I do go you'll go with +me." + +"Will I? We'll see." + +"We will see; or, if you prefer it, it shall be the other way +about, I'll go with you." + +"Will you?" + +"It'll have to be one or the other, you may take it from me. +Well, are you going to call those friends of yours? Are you +coming with me, or am I to go with you? Which is it to be? I'm +in no hurry; take your time. I'll have a pipe while you're +thinking it over." + +He filled a pipe which he took from his pocket, while she glared +at him. + +"I'm as strong as you; I believe I'm stronger; I believe I could +kill you if I chose." + +"Be a murderer as well as a thief, would you? I shouldn't be +surprised. You mightn't find it so easy to bring off this job as +you did the other; killing a man is not so simple as killing a +pig, take my word for it." + +"Listen to me, Gregory Lamb." + +"I'm listening, Mrs. Lamb, and it gives me real pleasure to do +it." + +"I'll make a rich man of you if you'll take yourself off." + +He stayed the lighted match on its passage to his pipe. + +"You'll make a rich man of me? Now you're singing in quite +another key. How are you going to do it?" + +"I'm staying in the house of a man who's dying." + +"Dying is he? Then what does he want you in the house for? Have +you turned nurse? Is that your latest caper?" + +"Never mind what I've turned. He's a rich man." + +"What do you call rich?--like me?" + +"You fool! He owns all this"--she threw out her arms--"and ever +so much besides." + +"Owns all this? Is it Cuthbert Grahame you're talking about?" + +"What do you know about Cuthbert Grahame?" + +"Only that I happen to be living in one of his cottages--just +over there--and a nice hole it is. But you can't expect much in +the way of board and lodging for a pound a week, especially when +you want some change left out of it. You're living in Cuthbert +Grahame's house? Why, then--great Scot!--you must be the woman +they're talking about who dropped from the skies." A change took +place in the expression of his countenance which in its way was +comical. "A pretty sort of she-devil you must be!" + +"Now what are you talking about?" + +"I know everything. Why, one of the servants up at Cuthbert +Grahame's--Martha Blair--is the daughter of the people I'm +lodging with. They talk of nothing else but you. You've been +passing yourself off as Cuthbert Grahame's wife." + +"Well, what of it?" + +"What of it?--that's good! First theft, then bigamy!" + +"You fool! he's dying." + +"I don't see what difference that makes; from what I understand +he's been dying for years." + +"He's made a will in my favour." + +"Did he tell you?" + +"He did. He's left me everything--every shilling he has in the +world." + +"You're a beauty, upon my soul you are!" + +"And I tell you that he's dying while we are standing here. The +odds are that he'll be dead by the time that I get back." + +"How do you know?" + +"Then everything he has will be mine--ours." + +"Ours?" + +"Ours!--yours and mine!--if you can keep a still tongue in your +head, and keep on pretending that you know nothing about me." + +He was trembling. + +"What about the Mrs. Grahame?" + +"Stuff the Mrs. Grahame! After he's dead I can soon be Mrs. Lamb +again. What's to stop me?" + +"Shall we have to live here?" + +She shuddered, involuntarily. + +"Live here?--not much! We'll clear out of this in double quick +time. We'll take a house in London, and live like princes." + +He moistened his lips with his tongue. + +"You'll act on the square with me?" + +"Of course I will, if you'll act on the square with me. Look +here, there's a ten-pound note for you. It's all I've got about +me, but as you seem hard up you may find it useful. You go back, +and unless I'm mistaken by to-morrow morning you'll hear he's +dead. It won't take me long to put things ship-shape. Don't you +write or try to see me, unless I give you the office. I'll keep +you posted in how things are going. And so soon as I can lay +hands on a good lot of the ready, if you like we'll go up to +town together, and we'll have a real old spree as we go." + +"Belle, you--you're----" + +He stopped, as if his vocabulary failed him altogether. + +"Yes, I know I am; I'm all that, and more besides." + +She laughed, and he laughed. In the laughter of neither of them +was there any merriment. The sounds they emitted were merely +mechanical. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV + + IN CUTHBERT GRAHAME'S ROOM + + +On Isabel's return to the house she was greeted on the threshold +by Martha, the Martha Blair whose connection with Gregory Lamb's +present place of residence seemed destined to have a +considerable bearing on Isabel's future life, and, at least, to +settle the debated question of what her future name and title +were to be. Martha's whole attitude was significant of some +great happening. Her hands were raised; it seemed that if +possible her hair would have been raised too; her eyebrows were +elevated to quite a perceptible degree. Her eyes and mouth were +wide open; agitation, of a not unpleasant kind, streamed from +every pore of her. Behind was Jane, every whit as interested as +her companion; but as she happened to be both the younger and +the smaller her opportunities for display were less pronounced. +Outside stood Dr. Twelves' dogcart; the horse, untended and +untethered, apparently content to stand still as long as any one +desired. + +Martha broke into speech before Isabel had a chance to plant her +foot upon the doorstep. + +"Oh, Mrs. Grahame, the master! Mr. Cuthbert, ma'am!" + +"Mr. Cuthbert, ma'am!" echoed Jane from the rear. + +"Mr. Cuthbert? Well, what's the matter with Mr. Cuthbert? Let me +come in, don't stand there blocking up the way! Do you hear, +what's the matter with Mr. Cuthbert?" + +"He's dead, ma'am--he's dead." + +The words broke from both the girls in chorus. + +"Dead? What do you mean? What nonsense are you talking? He was +well enough when I went out. I've never seen him better." + +"He's had an accident, ma'am, and it's killed him." + +"Accident? How could he have an accident? Is Dr. Twelves in the +house? Where is he?" + +"The doctor is in Mr. Cuthbert's room. He's been there this +half-hour and more." + +She went upstairs to Mr. Cuthbert's room. Her pulse did not +quicken; inwardly as well as outwardly she remained calm; she +was a woman whose self-control was above the average; yet she +was reluctant to enter that room. It was with an effort she +induced herself to grip the handle; when she had done so she had +to force herself to give it the necessary twist. Even then she +lingered on the threshold. + +"Who's there?" came the doctor's voice, in accents of inquiry. +She showed herself. + +"What's happened? What's the matter?" + +The doctor was standing at the head of the bed. He had something +in either hand. Instead of replying to her inquiries he looked +at her from beneath his overhanging brows, as if he had been her +accuser. + +"Why do you look at me like that? Do you hear me ask you what +has happened? Have you all lost your senses? Why don't you +answer?" He waved his hand towards the bed. Her gaze followed +his gesture, with an effort. She knew what she would see; she +did not want to see it. Instantly her glance returned to the +doctor. + +"Is he--is he dead?" + +"Quite dead." + +"But I don't understand. When I left him he seemed brighter and +better than I have ever seen him before." + +"He's been killed." + +"Killed! What do you mean, he's been killed?" + +"Come here, I'll show you." She went a little closer, +unwillingly. "Come this side of the bed." She did as he bade +her, with leaden feet. "You see, the pillows have fallen; he's +been choked." + +"But how can they have fallen? They were all right when I left +him. Has any one been in since?" + +"Are you sure they were all right when you left him?" + +"Perfectly sure. I tell you I have never seen him in better +health or in brighter spirits." + +"He could not have pushed them from under him himself." + +"He might have done it in a fit." + +"Perhaps; but it would have had to be a singular sort of a fit. +You say you are sure they were in their usual position when you +left him?" + +"Why do you ask me that again? Why do you look at me like that, +and speak in such a tone? Are you suggesting that I have had a +hand in his death?" + +"I am suggesting nothing." + +"It seems to me that you are suggesting a good deal, which you +dare not say right out. At least your manner is peculiar--but +that it generally is. If you have anything to say, say it--like +a man!--at once! Don't hint it, like a sneak. I hate your +underhanded ways." + +"I found this under his pillow--his one remaining pillow." + +"It's his will. He made it this morning." + +"So I am told by the two servants. I perceive it is in your +writing. Did he dictate to you this document?" + +"He did. I wrote it from his dictation, word for word as he told +me. I wrote it yesterday afternoon. He read it through, and kept +it under his pillow all night. He signed it this morning." + +"It seems odd that, after completing such a will as this, he +should have immediately died--in such a manner. If he could come +to life again I wonder what he'd say." + +"Give me that will, if you please, Dr. Twelves." + +"Hadn't I better hand it to his lawyer for safe keeping?" + +"His lawyer? His lawyer is now my lawyer; I will give all +necessary instructions. The will will be in safe keeping with +me. Give it me at once." He gave it her. "What have you in your +other hand? Some more property of mine?" + +"It is the miniature of the woman he loved best in the world. +Don't you think it might go with him, in his coffin, to the +grave?" + +"Give it me. I will give all necessary instructions, as I have +already told you. Your interference is not desired, nor will it +be tolerated. To be quite frank with you, Dr. Twelves--it is +always my desire to be frank and open--I have endured too much +from you already; I will endure nothing more. The less I see, or +hear, of you in the future the better I shall be pleased, since +you are, in all respects, the most objectionable person I ever +met. Don't you venture to intrude yourself again; if medical +attendance is required it will be obtained elsewhere. I +am now the mistress of this house--since there is no master, +its mistress in the most literal sense. Everything is +mine--everything. Be so good as to bear that in mind." + +He looked at her, and smiled. + +"I am not likely to forget that--ever." + +She did not know which she liked least--his tone, his look, or +his smile. + + + + + + BOOK II + + THE WIDOW + + + + + CHAPTER XV + + "THE GORDIAN KNOT" + + +Mr. Talfourd twiddled the bunch of La France roses between his +fingers with a smile which was scarcely one of satisfaction. +They were very fine roses--in just that stage of bursting bud in +which the La France is seen at its best. In London La France +roses cost money, even when they are poor examples of their +kind; those were good enough for exhibition. There were a great +many of them, and they were tied about with a beautiful green +ribbon, in charming contrast with the blooms. They had probably +cost some one at least half a sovereign. They were for him; they +had cost him nothing; yet they did not seem to afford him +pleasure. + +The fact was he was puzzled. He did not quite know what to make +of the situation; what he did understand he did not like. + +"This gets beyond a jest," he told himself. "Because I happened +to mention, accidentally, that La France roses were my favourite +flowers, I didn't expect to find a bouquet of them on my table +every morning awaiting my arrival. Either it means something or +it doesn't; either way I don't like it. I'm getting three +hundred pounds a year in cash for doing I don't quite know what, +and apparently half as much again in flowers. It won't do--it +will not do." He gave the unoffending roses an impatient twirl. +"The point of the joke is that when I said La France roses were +my favourite flowers I was speaking a little beside the mark. I +don't know that I have a favourite flower. They're Meg's--I was +thinking of her at the time, as I generally am. I don't want +Mrs. Lamb to think that she is giving me flowers, when she is +really giving them to Meg, to whom I invariably pass them on. I +don't know that she would really relish the notion of my giving +her flowers to some one else. Confound her impudence!" + +He threw the roses from him on to the table with a show of +roughness which they, at any rate, had done nothing to deserve. +As if conscious that his temper was being vented in the wrong +quarter, picking them up again he regarded them with looks of +whimsical self-reproach. + +While he was still eyeing them the door was opened, and a +masculine voice inquired from without-- + +"May I come in?" + +Without waiting for a reply the inquirer entered. It was Mr. +Gregory Lamb. A much more resplendent Gregory Lamb than the one +whose acquaintance we have previously made. The Gregory Lamb we +met in the wood was purely an affair of make-believe--not of +very plausible make-believe. His attire then looked as if it +wished you to think it had cost a great deal of money--but the +trained eye knew better. There could be no doubt that everything +about this Gregory Lamb was the most expensive of its kind--only +the trained eye knew really how expensive. The impression he +conveyed was that he had got as much on him in the way of money +as he conveniently could--probably that impression was not far +wrong. Yet the result was scarcely satisfactory. Especially was +this shown to be the case when he brought himself into +comparison with the man who was already in the room. + +Both were young; both bore themselves well; both were +good-looking; yet there could not be a moment's doubt as to +which was the pleasanter to look upon. It was not only that one +was obviously a gentleman, and the other just as obviously was +not; nor was it that one looked a clever, an intellectual, man, +and the other emphatically did not; still less was it an affair +of costume, since Gregory Lamb was overdressed and Harry +Talfourd's attire was simply plain and neat. It was something +subtler than any of these things which made the one attractive +and the other the reverse. Gregory Lamb had never made a friend +worth having in all his life--and never would; Talfourd made +friends wherever he went. He could not himself have said why; it +was certainly not because he tried. + +To begin with, Mr. Lamb's manner was unfortunate. His intention +was to be on terms of hail-fellow-well-met with every one; to be +no respecter of persons; to be "my dear chap" with Tom, Dick and +Harry. As a matter of fact, there was an air of patronage about +everything he said and did which was perhaps the more +insufferable because unconscious. He came into the room with +what he meant to be an air of jaunty geniality. + +"All alone? I thought you would be. It's not your time for +receiving visitors, is it? Just come; I heard you knock; must +have time to breathe before you let them in--eh? Those are fine +roses." + +"They are not bad ones." + +"Bad ones!--I should think they weren't. They oughtn't to be; I +happen to know what my wife paid for them." He laughed, as if he +sneered. "Sends you them every morning, doesn't she? Standing +order, I hear. Talfourd, you're in luck." + +Mr. Talfourd's manner was as cold as the other's was warm. + +"Mrs. Lamb is very kind--kinder than I deserve." + +"Perhaps she knows what you deserve better than you do--trust +her, she's no simpleton. When she takes a fancy she has her +reasons. I say, old man, I want you to do me a favour." + +"I shall be happy to do you a service if I can." + +"There's no doubt about the can--not the least in the +world--you'll find that it's as easy as winking. I want you to +get my wife to let me go for a little run to Monte Carlo." + +"I beg your pardon?--I don't understand." + +"It's this way. I'll be frank with you, Talfourd. I look upon +you as a friend, my boy. I can't go without cash; I'm +stony-broke; my wife holds the money-bags. You tell her--you +know how!"--Mr. Lamb winked--"that you think the run would do me +good, and tell her to give me a thousand to do it with, +and--I'll do as much for you one day, upon my soul I will." + +Mr. Talfourd stared at the speaker in undisguised amazement. + +"You credit me with powers of persuasion which are altogether +beyond any I possess." + +"Oh no, I don't"--Mr. Lamb laughed again--"I know better than +that! You tell her what I've asked you to tell her, and I bet +you anything I cross by to-night's boat, with notes for a +thousand in my pocket. She'd send me to the North Pole at a hint +from you." + +There was scarcely such a friendly expression on Mr. Talfourd's +face as on the other's. + +"Are you not forgetting that Mrs. Lamb is my employer? that I am +merely her servant since I receive her wages?" + +"Her servant?"--the laugh again--"I hope she doesn't overwork +you. Come, Talfourd, be the good sort you are, help a lame dog +over a stile. I'm spoiling for a flutter, and I'm dead sure that +the only chance I have of getting it is by means of a helping +word from you." + +"You must excuse me, Mr. Lamb. I am engaged to do clerical work +for Mrs. Lamb. I should not presume to speak to her on the +subject you have mentioned." + +"Presume?--what ho! Now Talfourd, you're no kid any more than I +am. You know as well as I do that you can twist my wife round +your finger. All I want you to do is to give her a twist for my +particular benefit." + +"I can give you no answer but the one I have already given." + +"Oh yes, you can--and you will. I'll look in for it to-morrow +morning--by that time you'll have thought it over. You're +not so crusty as you make yourself out to be. That'll be +four-and-twenty hours clean thrown away; and when you're +spoiling for a burst like I am, that's a deuce of time. But I +shall have every confidence in your kind offices when you've had +a chance to see just what I'm driving at." + +When Mr. Lamb had retired Mr. Talfourd seemed unhappy. + +"Every time that man talks to me I want to kick him. I wonder if +he affects other people in the same way--the unmentionable +animal! If, as the husband of his wife, he thinks himself +entitled to talk to me like that, it's time for me to think +things over. I must know where I am moving. Three hundred pounds +are three hundred pounds--I know that as well as any one--but +they may be earned too dearly. It is one thing to be Mrs. Lamb's +secretary, quite another to be----" He did not finish the +sentence even mentally. Sitting down to the table he drew +towards him the little heap of correspondence which was supposed +to justify his secretarial existence. There were about a dozen +envelopes, mostly containing circulars of different kinds. "I +believe that the letters are examined, and any of the slightest +importance retained, before they are sent to me. The idea of my +receiving three hundred pounds a year for opening circulars is +too thin." + +While he sat with both elbows on the table, staring ruefully in +front of him, the door opened again, and Mrs. Lamb came in. + +"At work? I hope I'm not disturbing you." + +She had changed more than her husband, whether for the better or +for the worse was not easy to determine. So far as appearance +went she had become a much better imitation of a lady. Society, +or what with her passed as society, had smoothed away some of +the angles. She had the air of a woman who had to do with many +persons of different sorts, and had learned to adapt herself to +them all. One felt that she was probably a popular character on +the stage on which she had chosen to perform--successful, at +least within certain limits. One did not wonder that it was so, +if only because, in her own way, she was good to look at. + +That way, however, did not happen to be Mr. Talfourd's--which +was unfortunate. Indeed, she inspired him with a curious +feeling. He was afraid of her. It seemed absurd, but he was. For +one thing, he realised that she was not only a clever, an +unusually clever woman, but that her cleverness lay in a +direction in which he was incompetent, and would perhaps +prefer to be. Again, he felt that she read him like an open +book, knew him to his finger-tips, while she was beyond his +comprehension--where, again, he would possibly prefer her to +remain. He had an uncomfortable suspicion that she saw in him +something which was not savoury; that her keenest glances were +continually directed on his weakest points; that it would please +her to find him an undesirable creature. He had no overt cause +to suppose this was so. So far she had been to him nothing but a +friend--a friend in need. But on such a point even the vaguest +shadow of a doubt was disquieting. + +He rose as she came in. + +"It is not possible for you to disturb me--I wish it were." + +"You wish it were? Why?" + +"Because in that case I should be really doing some genuine +work--which I never am. My post is too much of a sinecure; my +conscience will not allow me to remain your secretary much +longer if there continues to be nothing to do." + +"You want something to do? You shall have it--very soon--at +least, I think so. I have been reading your play." + +"My play?" + +He had noticed that she was carrying in her hand what looked +like some typewritten MSS., in brown-paper covers. Now, with a +start, he recognised them as his own. + +"'The Gordian Knot.' Mr. Winton gave it me to read." + +"Winton! What right----" + +He was about to ask what right Winton had to do anything of the +kind, but perceiving that that would scarcely be a civil +inquiry, he stopped, not, however, before she understood what +had been on the tip of his tongue. + +"Mr. Winton had every right to give it me to read, as, I think, +you will yourself admit when I explain. I have, of course, known +for a long time that Mr. Winton would like to commence +management on his own account. The other afternoon he told me +that he had a play which he would produce at once if he could +only find some one who would furnish at any rate part of the +necessary capital. I asked by whom it was. He said, 'It's by a +man named Talfourd--Harry Talfourd'. You may easily believe that +that did arouse my interest." She said this in a tone which +seemed to make him go all over pins and needles; it was almost +as if she had caressed him. "I mentioned to Mr. Winton that, +given certain conditions, it was possible that I might be +tempted to enter into such a speculation. He offered to send me +the MS. It reached me yesterday. I read it last night and again +this morning--not once, but three or four times. Mr. Talfourd, +it's first-rate." + +"It's very good of you to say so." + +"It's not good of me. It's a simple statement of a simple fact. +If it were rubbish I should tell you so plainly--if you were the +dearest friend I have in the world. On such matters I have no +hesitation; and I think you will confess that this is a matter +on which I do know something. Your play's first-rate. If we can +agree about terms it shall have an immediate production." + +"I hardly know what to say to you." + +He did not. On that play he had founded more hopes than he would +have cared to mention to that friendly lady. Its success would +mean so much to him, and to the woman he loved. It had gone the +usual round of the untried dramatist's play. Hope deferred again +and again had made his heart sick. He had begun almost to +despair that it would ever see the light. Yet now that he was +told that if there was only an agreement about terms--as if +there was any likelihood of a disagreement!--it should have an +immediate production, he was not at all sure that his feelings +were what, under the circumstances, he had supposed they would +have been. It was perfectly true, he did not know what to say to +her. She was glib enough. + +"Say?--say nothing. Let's talk business, and stick to that. I +mean to. You understand that this is purely a business +proposition which I am about to make to you, and absolutely +nothing else. If I go into this matter it will be on strictly +commercial grounds, and on those only." + +"I wish I were sure of it." + +"It's not nice of you to doubt my word, Mr. Talfourd; before I +have finished you will be sorry for having done so. Before +entering into negotiations for the production of your play, do +you know what would be one of the preliminary conditions I +should be disposed to make?" + +"I have not a notion." + +"That I should be your leading lady." + +"Mrs. Lamb!" + +"Mr. Talfourd! I presume you are aware that I can act?" + +"I know that you have made some successful appearances in--in +amateur theatricals." + +"Mr. Winton will inform you that those amateur theatricals were +not greatly below the standard of any professional +representations you have seen. Apart from that--this is strictly +between ourselves--I may mention that once upon a time I was +professionally connected with the stage." She did not think it +necessary to mention with what branch of it. "Your heroine, Lady +Glover----" + +"Lady Glover is hardly my heroine." + +"She is the leading feminine character--the pivotal character; +the one about whom the whole thing turns. To my mind the one +creature of real flesh and blood." + +"I had hoped that Agnes Eliot was a character of some +importance." + +"Agnes Eliot?--pooh!--namby-pamby, bread-and-butter miss! She's +not bad in her way, and, I suppose, in a pit-and-gallery sense, +she's the heroine--and not an ineffective one either; but I +assure you I have not the slightest wish to play Agnes Eliot. +Susan Stone, who becomes Lady Glover, is a woman who, in the +face of all obstacles, achieves success; continually confronted +by difficulties, she treats them as so many Gordian knots; she +cuts them and walks straight on. Quite indifferent as to the +means she employs, she always gets there. Considering the +present craze among actresses for what they are pleased to call +sympathetic parts, I think you will agree that that is not a +character which would appeal to every one." + +"Certainly. Winton is of opinion that in casting the play the +chief difficulty would be to find an adequate representative. As +you say, many actresses don't like to act wicked women." + +"I don't know about an adequate representative, but I'm quite +willing to act Lady Glover, and, although I say it myself, I +think you'll find that I shall be equal to the occasion. Indeed, +I am ready to make a sporting bet with you that, in my hands, +Lady Glover will take the town by storm. There's a popular +fallacy that people don't like wicked women--it is a fallacy. +When they're of the right brand, they love 'em--especially men. +Give me a chance, and I'll prove it. I'll guarantee that +seventy-five per cent, of masculine playgoers shall fall in love +with Lady Glover--if I play her. What do you say?" + +"I don't understand why you should wish to play her." + +"How's that?" + +"The answer seems so obvious. You--a lady of position, of +fortune, with troops of friends!" + +"Change, Mr. Talfourd, is the salt of life. I'm very fond of +salt. Before I read your play I had no more idea of doing +anything of the kind than I had of flying to the moon. But Lady +Glover went straight to my heart. I saw at once what magnificent +fun it would be to give to the stage a really adequate +representation of the naughty feminine. I knew I could do +it--and I can. So why shouldn't I?" + +"You understand that Mr. Winton has the refusal of the play, and +that I should first have to consult him." + +"Of course I understand that Winton has the refusal of the play, +and of course I understand that you will have to consult him. +I'm not afraid of Winton. He shall be the leading man, and cast +the other parts as he pleases. I'll be Lady Glover, and find the +money. I'll be an ideal Lady Glover. I believe in your heart you +know it. Winton and I between us will make of the play a +monstrous success, and so your fortune will be made, and a few +shillings added to my own. I should dearly like to make your +fortune, if only for one reason--because you don't like me." + +"Mrs. Lamb!" + +"Which is the more odd, because men generally do. Do you +remember our first meeting?" + +"I'm never likely to forget it." + +"You don't say that in a tone which suggests an unsophisticated +compliment. I had read that thing of yours in the _Cornhill_. +Frank Staines said that he had the honour of your acquaintance; +that you were clever on quite unusual lines--as he put it, 'a +cut above the market'--and that in consequence you'd been having +a pretty rough time. You recollect that it was at an early stage +of our acquaintance that I offered you the post of private +secretary." + +"I wonder if, when you did so, you knew that I'd nearly reached +my last shilling?" + +"I'd an inkling. If you hadn't you'd have said no." This was so +literally the truth that he was silent. She understood him so +much better than he did her. He had an irritating feeling that +she was treating him as if he were some plastic material, which +she was gradually fashioning into the shape she desired. "I've +done you nothing else than good turns----" + +"I know it, quite well." + +"And yet, actually, I believe, on that account, you seem to +dislike me more and more." + +"I do assure you, Mrs. Lamb, that you are wrong. I do hope I'm +not the blackguard you seem to imagine." + +"I am not wrong, Mr. Talfourd--in a matter of that sort I seldom +am. And you're not a blackguard; you're altogether the other +way. It's a case of Dr. Fell--the reason why you don't like me +you cannot tell. It's not your fault at all--it's sort of +congenital. Don't worry! But that being so, since I have already +done you one or two good turns, it would be delightful to be +able to do you a crowning good turn--to make your fortune; to +make you the most successful man of the day--you, the only man I +ever met who really did, and does, dislike me. + +"Mrs. Lamb, I--I can't tell you how you make me feel." + +"I wouldn't try." + +He did not. She looked at him and smiled, while he stood before +her, with flushed cheeks and downcast eyes, like some shamefaced +schoolboy. + + + + + CHAPTER XVI + + MARGARET IS PUZZLED + + +Miss Dorothy Johnson, balancing herself on the edge of the +table, was playing catch-ball with a pair of gloves. + +"Margaret Wallace, you're one of the sillies!" + +"Evidently you are not the only person who is of that opinion." + +"That's right--put the worst construction on everything I say, +and think yourself smart." + +"It's just as well that some one should think so. Dollie, +sometimes I'm very near to the conviction that it's no +good--that nothing's any good, and, especially, that I'm no +good; that I might as well own myself beaten right away." + +"Well, you are beaten this time, that's sure. What ought +to be just as sure is that you don't mean to be beaten every +time--there's the whole philosophy of life for you in a +nutshell." + +"But suppose I'm dragging Harry down? I shouldn't be surprised +if it's all through me that his MSS. keep on being returned. +I said to him, 'Let me make drawings to illustrate your +stories--I'd love to'. And I do love to! 'Then we'll send the +stories and the drawings to the editors together.' But they +nearly all come back. I've a horrid feeling that it's my +drawings which ruin them." + +"Stuff! It's Harry's work that's no good." + +"No good? How dare you! You've said yourself over and over again +that it's splendid." + +"That's what's against it--it's splendid." Miss Johnson, +stretching her right arm to its extreme length, dangled her +gloves between the tips of her fingers. "Margaret Wallace, +literature means to me at least three pounds a week, it may be +four, if possible, five. I can live on three, be comfortable on +four, a swell on five. The problem being thus stated in all its +beautiful simplicity, it only remains for me to discover the +quickest and easiest solution. I have learned, from experience, +that the _Home Muddler_ is willing to give me half a guinea for +a column of drivel, and the _Hearthstone Smasher_ fifteen +shillings for another. The _Family Flutterer_ prints eight or +ten thousand words of an endless serial at five shillings a +thousand--one of these days I mean to strike for seven-and-six. +But in the meantime there you are--the pursuit of literature has +brought me bread and cheese. Why doesn't your Harry tread the +same path?" + +"The idea!" + +"Of course!--the idea!--and that's where he gets left. It's my +experience that in literature----" + +"Literature!" + +"I said literature. I was observing, when you interrupted, that +it is my experience that in literature"--Miss Johnson paused, +Miss Wallace was contemptuously silent--"men always get paid at +least twice as much as the women. I don't know why; it seems to +be one of the rules of the game. It therefore follows that if +your Harry did as I do he would earn six, eight, ten pounds a +week, which, with management, would keep two--not to speak of +your drawings, which ought to bring in something. I believe the +_Family Flutterer_ pays as much as seven-and-six for a full +page." + +"My dear Dollie, you know as well as I do that we both of us +would rather starve." + +"Sweet Meg, I'm not saying you're right or wrong, only, if you +have resolved to eschew the easily earned loaves and fishes, +don't revile because, having set out on the track of the +rarer creatures, you discover--what every one knows, and you +know!--that they are difficult to find. My private opinion +is that Harry will find them one day--if he keeps on long +enough--though I don't know when." + +"You're a comforting sort of person." + +"I'm a practical sort of person, which is better. Cheer up, Meg! +he'll get there--and perhaps you will too--though of course his +stories are better than your drawings." + +"I don't need you to tell me that." + +Miss Johnson, descending from the table, put her arm round the +girl who was seated on the other side. + +"You poor darling! I'm a perfect pig! I say, Meg, are you hard +up?" + +"I always am." + +"Beyond the ordinary, I mean?" + +"If you mean, can you lend me, or give me, any money, you +can't--thank you very much. I'm going to hoe my own furrow, +right to the end." + +"How about Harry? He gets some of his stuff accepted; then +there's the three hundred pounds a year certain which he gets +for being that party's secretary. I call that practicality, if +you like! He ought to be getting on first-rate." + +"He doesn't seem to think so, anyhow. As for what you call the +three hundred pounds a year certain, I doubt if anything could +be more uncertain, the engagement may terminate any day. I +believe that Harry is really more worried than I am, and--and +that's saying a good deal." + +"Then the marriage is not coming off just yet?" + +"Marriage!--and you call yourself a practical person!--how can +you be so absurd?" + +"I am not sure that I am absurd. If I ever loved a man--which I +am never likely to do, men are such beings!--really loved him, +and knew that he loved me, I shouldn't hesitate to marry him on +a pound a week. Marriage, properly understood, is a spur; it's +not, necessarily, anything like the clog romantic people like +you seem to think it is." + +When Miss Johnson had gone Margaret Wallace went and stood +before a photograph which hung over the mantelpiece--the +photograph of a man. + +"I think, Cuthbert Grahame, it's possible that you'll shortly be +revenged; if you knew just how things are I fancy you'd be of +opinion that you're revenged already. If you'd been even a +shadowy semblance of the father you once professed to be, I--I +shouldn't be wondering where I'm to get my dinner from." + +She examined the physiognomy of the man in front of her as if, +instead of being the most familiar of faces, she saw it now for +the first time. Going back to her seat at the table, she was +examining the drawings which had accompanied the returned MS., +as if desirous of learning what improvement she could make in +them, when there came a tap at the door. + +"Come in." Mr. Talfourd entered. In a moment she was in his +arms. "Harry!" + +"Meg!--more roses for you." He handed her the La France roses +which had been presented to him by Mrs. Lamb. "What are you +doing?" + +She was eyeing the roses, without any great show of enthusiasm, +which was possibly lacking because she knew from whom they had +originally come. + +"Harry, I've more bad news for you--I never seem to have +anything else. The story's back from the _Searchlight_." + +"What does it matter?" + +"I don't like to hear you talk like that, because, you see, we +both know that it matters, dear. Harry, do you think that it +may have been returned because my drawings aren't up to the +mark--honestly?" + +"Honestly, I am certain it has not. Your drawings are at least +as good as my story. I have never met any one who can illustrate +me as well as you do." + +"You mean that? If I weren't Margaret Wallace would you say so +still?" + +"I should. I should congratulate myself on having met some one +who could illustrate me as I like to be illustrated. You +misunderstood me just now. I said what does it matter, because +it doesn't matter, in view of something of much greater +importance which I have to say to you." + +"Harry! what is it?" + +"I hardly know how to begin, it's such a queer position. It's +this--in a way, my play's accepted." + +"'The Gordian Knot'?--by Mr. Winton?" + +"No, not by Winton, by Mrs. Lamb." + +"Mrs. Lamb?--Harry!" He told her how the play had come into Mrs. +Lamb's hands, and how that lady had expressed her willingness to +give it immediate production, on the understanding that she was +to create Lady Glover. "But I didn't know she could act. Why +should she want to anyhow?--she a rich woman!--especially such a +part! Lady Glover's a horrible creature! I suppose you think +she'd make a mess of it--and of course she would. She must be a +very conceited person." + +"Sweetheart, shall I tell you, quite frankly, what I really +think?" + +"You hadn't better tell me anything else." + +"Then I'll make you my father confessor. I've a strong feeling, +amounting to a positive conviction, that she'd make a +magnificent Lady Glover. That's one reason why I hesitate." + +"Now I don't understand. If she makes a success of the part, +what else do you want?" + +"I'll endeavour to explain. For one thing, I think it possible +that she'll make it the part of the play, and so put Winton in +the shade entirely. In the theatre he proposes to manage I'm +certain he's no intention to be overshadowed by any one. Not +that, in such a matter, I'm likely to be too sensitive about his +feelings--but there it is. What, from my point of view, would be +more serious, is that it is extremely probable that, by her +rendition of Lady Glover, she'll warp the play out of what I +intended to be its setting. As she was talking just now it +dawned upon me that, in her hands, the play might become +transformed--something altogether different to what I meant it +to be." + +"But if it's a success?" + +"Meg, I find it difficult to put into words just what's in my +mind. Of course if it's successful it will mean----" + +"It will mean everything." + +"It will mean a good deal; but it will mean everything I'd +rather it didn't mean if the success is owing to her." + +"But it will be your play. In one sense its success will always +be dependent upon others. Really, Harry, I don't follow you. +What is your objection to Mrs. Lamb? She's never done you any +harm." + +"No, she hasn't done me any harm--as yet." + +"As yet! Do you think she means to? Considering that she +proposes to produce your play, and bids fair to make a great +success of it, it doesn't look as if she did." + +"Meg--you'll laugh at me--I'm afraid of her." + +"Afraid of her?--of Mrs. Lamb!--Harry!" + +"I've never been comfortable in her presence since the first +moment I've met her. When she's there I have the sort of feeling +which I imagine a nervous person might have in the neighbourhood +of a dangerous lunatic. I don't know when or how she will break +out, but I feel that sometime, somehow, she will, and that then +I shall have to struggle with her for my life." + +"Harry! are you in earnest?" + +He laughed oddly. + +"Meg, upon my word, I can't tell you. She hypnotises me, that +woman--she hypnotises me. Her influence is on me even after I +have left her." + +"She must be a curious person. I should like to meet her." + +"Meet her?" + +He shuddered, involuntarily. "Rather than that you should meet +her I'd---- If I can prevent it you shall not meet her." + +"Why not? I know plenty of people who have met her, and who seem +to think her a distinctly agreeable person--hospitable, good +company, amusing, kindhearted, generous to a degree. Tell me, +Harry, has she ever behaved to you in any way as she ought not +to have done?" + +"She has not, in one jot or tittle." + +"To your knowledge has she ever done, or even said, anything +wrong?" + +"No. Still, I would rather she did not produce my play, +especially if she is to act Lady Glover." + +"Will she produce it if she doesn't?" + +"I doubt it." + +"There is something at the back of your mind which you're +keeping to yourself. When I think of all that the success of +'The Gordian Knot' would mean to us, of how you've looked +forward to its production, of how we've talked and talked of it, +your present attitude is incomprehensible. It doesn't follow +that because Mrs. Lamb produces your play--and even acts in +it!--that you need therefore make of her a bosom friend if you'd +rather not. I don't suppose it's only generosity which impels +her; I daresay she has an axe of her own to grind." + +"You may be sure of it." + +"Then so have you. I don't see how it matters if it's A, B, or C +who grinds it, so long as it's ground--properly ground; and you +seem sure that it will be that." + +"I have little doubt of it." + +"Then tell me, Harry, what is the real, downright reason why you +don't wish Mrs. Lamb to produce your play, and act in it?" + +"Because, Meg, I'm afraid of her." + +"Afraid of her!--of a woman!--who you yourself admit has never +done you anything but good! Harry, you're beyond my +comprehension." + +Before he could answer there was a knock at the door. A servant +entered with a card on a tray. + +"A gentleman wishes to see you, miss." + +She looked at the card. + +"'David Twelves, M.D., Edin.'. It can't be Dr. Twelves of +Pitmuir?" + +A voice came from the door. + +"It's that same man." + + + + + CHAPTER XVII + + AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR + + +In appearance the doctor had altered but little since we saw him +last. He was the same little wizened old man, with the slight +stoop, and the sunken eyes which looked out so keenly from under +the thick, overhanging thatch of his shaggy eyebrows. When she +heard his voice, and saw him, Margaret, running to him--before +Harry, before the servant--put her arms about his neck (she +could easily do it, since he was the shorter), and, after +looking at him fixedly, as if to make sure that he was still the +same man, kissed him on the lips. + +"Dr. Twelves, to think of your coming to see me after all these +years!" + +"And whose fault is it that I haven't come before? whose fault +I'd like to know?" + +"It certainly isn't mine." + +"Not yours? when I hadn't a notion where to look for you, and +you took care that I hadn't? It's only by the grace of God I've +chanced upon you now. I was looking in a bit of a magazine, at +an illustration which seemed to me to be pretty fair, when I saw +your name in the corner--Margaret Wallace--in your own +handwriting. I can tell you I jumped--there, in the railway +carriage--so that I daresay my fellow-passengers thought that +I'd a sudden gouty twinge or, maybe, rheumatism, for none can +say that I look like a gouty subject. I went straight to the +office where the magazine is published, and I asked them to tell +me where you might be found. I believe they thought I'd designs +upon your life, or, at least, upon your purse. I had to tell +them such a yarn before they'd tell me. Then I took care to +follow the girl up the stairs, so that, if you meant to deny +yourself, you shouldn't have a chance." + +"Deny myself?--to you?--doctor! what a notion!--as if I should!" +By now the servant had retired; Miss Wallace, who still retained +a hand upon her visitor's shoulder, had brought him into the +room. "Harry, this is Dr. Twelves, of whom you have so often +heard me speak. Doctor, this is Mr. Talfourd, whose wife I hope +one day to be." + +"I trust, young gentleman, that your deserts are equal to your +good fortune, and that you're properly conscious how great that +is. I've known this lassie since the time she seemed all hair +and legs, for those were the parts of her you noticed most, and +there hasn't been a day on which I haven't wanted her to be my +wife." + +"Now, doctor, that's contrary to the fact; you know you told me +more than once that Providence had marked you out to be a +bachelor." + +"And wasn't that self-evident, since you wouldn't have me? Now, +Margaret Wallace, what have you been doing?" + +"Doing? I was talking to Harry when you came in." + +"I'll be bound that it's plenty of talking to Harry that you do, +and will do--particularly later on, when you're Mrs. Harry." + +"Doctor!" + +"What I mean was, have you made your fortune? or are you drawing +pictures for your daily bread?" + +She looked at Mr. Talfourd quizzically. + +"I have one eye upon my daily bread." + +"And it isn't too much of it you see, by the looks of you. +You're peaked, and you're thin." + +"Oh, doctor! I'm sure I'm not." + +"And I'm sure you are, and by virtue of my profession I ought to +know. It's a pretty market to which you've brought your pigs. +You might be one of the richest women in England, instead of +being half-starved--with white cheeks and tired eyes." + +"Doctor, how dare you say such things! It's not true! You've not +improved!" + +"I'm thinking you've not improved either. You've a stubborn +heart. Why, all this time, haven't you let some of us know +something about you?--if it was only where a line might reach +you." + +"You know very well why, and I did go to see Mr. Grahame." + +"You went to see Cuthbert Grahame? When?" She mentioned the +date. "Girl, you're dreaming. It was the day after that he +died." + +"The day after that he died? I knew he was dead. I heard of it +long afterwards by a side wind; but I have never heard any +particulars. You none of you told me anything." + +"How were we to, when you'd hidden yourself from us in this +great city?" + +"Of what did he die?" + +"If you ask what was on the certificate I can tell you; but if +you want to know how death came to him you must inquire of his +wife." + +"His wife?" + +"When he died he was a married man, according to the law of +Scotland." + +"Dr. Twelves, are you jesting?" + +"I'm not. On the day he died he made a will leaving her all that +he had in the world--and she had it." + +"Who was she?" + +"Beyond saying that she was no better than she ought to be, I +can tell you nothing." + +"Was she some one from the neighbourhood?" + +"She was not; she was from England. She dropped from the clouds. +I should say--if I may be allowed to do so in this company--on +her road to hell. What passed between you and Cuthbert Grahame +when you saw him on that day before he died?" + +"I didn't see him. Nannie wouldn't let me." + +"Nannie wouldn't let you?" + +"She would not. She said that Mr. Grahame had forbidden her to +admit me into the house." + +"She's never spoken a word to me about it. What's been the +matter with the woman? But there's something ails your story. +That day, and for many days afterwards, she was lying in bed +with a broken leg. Was it from her bedroom that she shouted out +to you?" + +"From her bedroom?--nothing of the kind. She told me through the +front door that Mr. Grahame had forbidden her to let me in. When +I said that I would come in, and began to break the window to +show that I was in earnest, she went to the window above, and +poured two buckets of boiling water over me." + +"Margaret Wallace! it's dreaming you must have been." + +"It was a curious kind of dream. The water scalded my neck, and +left a scar which was visible for weeks--wasn't it?" + +She turned to Mr. Talfourd, as if for corroboration. + +"It was. When I saw it I was disposed to go straight off to +Scotland, and give the old harridan a taste of my quality." + +"It's as queer a story as any I've heard. Seeing that Nannie was +as if she had been glued to her bed, how could she walk about +the house as you say, and pour buckets of boiling water on to +you through a window?" + +"I only know that she did." + +"Did you see her?" + +She considered a moment. + +"No, I didn't. She took care not to show herself." + +"She took care not to show herself?" + +"She hadn't the courage to let me see her face, but she let me +hear her voice, and plenty of it. It was not necessary for me to +see her when I heard her. I've been acquainted with Nannie +Foreshaw's voice for too many years to be likely to mistake it +for any one else's." + +"You're sure? I doubt----" The doctor seemed to be considering +in his turn. "I can't put the pieces of the puzzle together so +that they just fit, but I've a notion that I'm on the way. +Margaret Wallace, I've a suspicion that I've been a greater fool +even than I thought. After the chances I've had to get wisdom, +to get understanding, that's not a nice feeling to have. Between +us--you've had a hand!--we've muddled things to a marvel. I'll +communicate with Nannie with reference to that little +conversation you say you had with her; when I've heard from her +I'll talk to you again." He turned to Mr. Talfourd. + +"And you, sir, do you make drawings?" + +"No; I write stories." + +The doctor looked him up and down as if he were a specimen of a +species which was new to him. + +"Stories? Oh! and is that a man's work? I come of a good old +Scottish stock. My forebears have always held that a man should +do a man's work. Is writing stories that?" + +"It isn't easy, if that's what you mean." + +"Not easy? I should have thought you would have found it as easy +as lying. I've written them myself; I didn't find it hard. It's +just a waste of time. However, I'm not judging you. Is that all +you do, write stories?" + +"Just at present I'm doing something else as well. I'm acting as +private secretary to a lady." + +"Private secretary to a lady? You've your own notions of what's +a man's work, Mr. Talfourd." + +Harry flushed; Margaret laughed. + +"And you country Scotchmen have your own ideas of what you're +entitled to say." + +"You're Scotch yourself, my lassie, on the best side of you; +don't gird at your own birth. I ask your pardon, Mr. Talfourd, +if I've said anything I ought not to say; but I've known this +lassie all her days. She's been to me as the apple of my eye, +and--she tells me that you're to be her husband. Would it be +going too far, Mr. Talfourd, if I were to ask you what's the +name of the lady to whom you're acting as private secretary?" + +"Mrs. Lamb--Mrs. Gregory Lamb." + +"Mrs. Gregory Lamb? That's odd." + +"How is it odd? I hope there's nothing improper about the name." + +"It's not that it's improper; it's that I once met a Gregory +Lamb. What sort's your Gregory Lamb?" + +"He's about my own age, perhaps a little older; not ill-looking; +not, I should imagine, a bad fellow in his way." + +"Is he a poor man?" + +"I believe his wife is very rich." + +"His wife? Of course, there's the wife--and she's very rich. The +rich woman who married the Gregory Lamb I know would be a very +foolish female." + +"Mrs. Lamb is certainly not that." + +"Then her Gregory's not mine, though it's an unusual conjunction +of names. I'm thinking that none but a fool of a woman would +ever have married him." + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII + + CRONIES + + +That evening Dr. Twelves dined with a fellow Scot, J. Andrew +McTavish, of McTavish & Brown. Mr. McTavish lived in Mecklenberg +Square. Although a bachelor he liked plenty of house room, and +in Mecklenberg Square he had it. His house was perhaps the +largest in the Square, and certainly not the least comfortable. +Comfort was to Mr. McTavish a sort of fetish: excepting money he +set it above everything. He looked as if he did. Of medium +height, he was of more than average size, his waist measurement +was approaching a significant figure; his neck loved a generous +collar, his chin overlapped; he had slight side whiskers, dark +gray in hue, and the top of his head was so completely bald that +one wondered if it could ever have been anything else. He and +his guest presented an amazing contrast: three or four replicas +of Dr. Twelves could have been contained in Mr. McTavish. + +They dined _tęte-ŕ-tęte_ at a small round table which stood in +the centre of a big room. Mr. McTavish liked big rooms; he was +never comfortable in a small one. During the meal the +conversation was of a desultory character, principally hovering +around Pitmuir, where Mr. McTavish had lived till he came to +London. Questions were asked and answered touching every soul in +the parish Mr. McTavish could think of, and his memory was +extensive. There was hardly a man, woman or child about Pitmuir +whose name had not been mentioned before dinner was finished. If +the inquiries were slightly acid, so were the replies. It seemed +as if these two gentlemen had made it a point of honour to say +nothing nice of any one. According to them the folk about +Pitmuir were a very human lot--at least they had most of +humanity's failings. + +After dinner they retired to the study, another fine apartment. +There they had a cup of coffee, a liqueur, and a cigar apiece. +The doctor seemed lost in the huge chair which he had been +invited to fill. His host regarded him with twinkling eyes. + +"Have you had a good dinner, David?" + +"You feed yourself too well; you're a hundred years behind the +age." + +"How do you show it?" + +"Our great-grandfathers pampered their bellies. We know better; +we have learnt that it is the part of wisdom to starve them. +You're still where our grandsires were." + +"And where are you?" + +"I'm on the high road to as fine an attack of indigestion as a +man need have, and live." + +"I can give you the name of one of the greatest authorities on +indigestion." + +"I dare swear you can give me the names of one or two. I +shouldn't be surprised if that sucking-pig proves to be the +death of me, beyond the skill of all your authorities." + +"It was cooked to a turn." + +"I ought to know how it was cooked, considering the way that I +behaved to it. It's wicked to set such meat before a man. And +now, I've something which I wish to say to you." + +"You've said one or two things already--what's the other?" + +The doctor, taking the cigar out of his mouth, regarded the ash +on the tip. + +"You remember Wallace's daughter?" + +"Cuthbert Grahame's girl?" + +The doctor nodded. + +"I've seen her this afternoon." + +"No? I wondered what had become of her, more than once. I've +seen and heard nothing of her since he turned her out." + +"He didn't turn her out, she turned herself out. I had the story +from his own lips." + +"So had I. To all intents and purposes he turned her out, +however he may have put it to himself or to you." + +"He asked her to marry him, and she wouldn't." + +"He asked her not once or twice, but again and again, until he +made it plain that his house was no place for her unless she +meant to be his wife. So, as she didn't, there was nothing for +her but to go." + +"It was a fool business." + +"On both sides. Why he wanted to marry her I don't know. I never +do know why a man wants to marry. I'd sooner have a buzz saw in +every room in the house than a wife in one. Why she wouldn't +marry him, I know still less." + +"There was the difference in their years. Then he was already +threatening to be what he afterwards became--physically, I +mean." + +"Well, what of it? If a girl in her position has to marry, I +should say that there are two things which she ought to look for +first of all--money, and a sick husband; if possible, one who is +already sick unto death. In Grahame she'd have had both." + +There was silence, as if both parties were giving to Mr. +McTavish's words the consideration due to a profound aphorism. +It was the doctor who spoke next. + +"He always believed that she would come back again, saying yes." + +"I'd no patience with the man, he was all kinds of a fool. If he +wanted her to be his wife, he didn't go the right way to get +her. When she said no, instead of thanking God for his +undeserved escape, he stormed and raved, fretted and fumed, +until he became only fit to be exhibited in a booth at a fair." + +"When he heard that she was in love with some one else, it was +that that was the death of him." + +"A good thing too. It'd have been a good thing if it had been +the death of both of them. I've no bowels for such tomfoolery. +Where is she? What's she doing? Is she married to the other +fool? If she is, don't they both wish that they were dead?" + +"You've a sharp tongue, Andrew--if your wits were like it! Not +all married folks wish that they were dead; there's just as much +desire to live among the married as among the single--maybe +more. To hear you talk one would suppose that one had only to +remain single to be happy. You and I know better than that." + +"Speak for yourself, David, speak for yourself--I'm happy +enough." + +"Then your looks belie you." + +"What's the matter with my looks, you old croaker?" + +"I'm a doctor of medicine, Andrew McTavish; I've learned to turn +the smoothest side to a patient; so you must excuse me if to +your inquiry I return no answer." + +"After the dinner I've given him!" + +"It's the ill-assorted food you have caused me to cram down my +throat that I'm beginning to fancy has given me a touch of the +spleen." + +"Something has. The next time you dine in this house it will be +off porridge." + +"We'll leave the next time till it comes. To return to Margaret +Wallace. She's not married yet, and, so far as I can judge, +she's not likely to be. It's want of pence, both with him and +with her. If she had some of Cuthbert Grahame's money, as she +ought to have, it'd make all the difference." + +"It's in part your fault that she hasn't." + +"I'm not denying it, and I'm not forgetting it. If I've been +guilty of the unforgivable sin, it was when I brought that woman +to Cuthbert Grahame's bedside. I sometimes think that I'll see +it chalked up against me in letters of fire when I'm brought up +before the throne." + +"Stuff!" + +"Maybe--to you. You're devoid of decent feeling, Andrew +McTavish; to you all's stuff. What's become of the woman?" + +"What woman?" + +"She who calls herself Mrs. Grahame?" + +"She calls herself Mrs. Grahame no longer." + +"How's that?" + +"She's married again." + +"The creature! The poor fool she's married! What is his name?" + +"Gregory Lamb." + +Dr. Twelves rose from his chair as if impelled by a spring. +Opening his mouth in apparent forgetfulness of what was between +his lips, his cigar fell to the floor, where it remained +apparently unnoticed. + +"What's that?" + +"What's what?" + +"What name was that you said?" + +"Why, man, what's the matter now? I'm wondering whether the +sucking-pig's mounted to your head instead of descending to your +stomach. David, you're easily upset these days. Pick up your +cigar, it's burning a hole in my floor covering." + +"Damn the cigar!" + +"And welcome! It's not that I mind. What I object to is your +cigar damning my carpet. Pick it up at once, sir." + +"You're fussy about your old carpet." + +"Old carpet! it cost me a guinea a yard not twelve months +since." + +"You're wasteful with your money." + +"I am, when I spend it entertaining such as you." + +"What's the name of the man you say that woman married?" + +"Gregory Lamb." + +"It's past believing!" + +"Is it? I haven't found it so." + +"That's because you're walking in darkness. Do you know that the +youngster Margaret's plighted to is private secretary to Mrs. +Gregory Lamb?" + +"Is he? Then I should say that that's presumptive evidence that +he's not bad looking. She has an eye for a good-looking man." + +"Gregory Lamb was staying at Pitmuir when she was at +Cuthbert Grahame's, calling herself his wife. A half-bred, +ill-conditioned young scamp he was." + +"I should imagine that Mr. Lamb was not born in the caste of +Vere de Vere." + +"Were they acquainted then? What was there between them? How +come they to be married now?--he without a penny, to my +knowledge, she with all that money. She'd not marry such a +creature as he was--for love, that I'll swear. They were birds +of a feather, only he was more fool than knave, and she more +knave than fool." + +"That about describes them now--if a lawyer may say as +much--under privilege." + +"Andrew, can you keep a still tongue?" + +"If I couldn't I shouldn't be sitting here." + +"I've always had a suspicion that there was something wrong +about that will." + +"Do you mean the one under which she inherits? You needn't +confine yourself to suspicion upon that point--it's about as +wrong as it could be. If there had been substantial opposition +she'd have found it hard to bring it in." + +"I'm not meaning it in your sense. I know that Grahame signed it +in the presence of those two daft lassies; but I don't believe +that he knew what he was signing, although the evidence is all +the other way. I've kept my doubts to myself until this moment, +and even now I can't tell you just why I don't believe it--but I +don't." + +"Quite possibly you're right, but you can't prove it." + +"I know I can't, and there's something else that I can't prove." + +"What's that?" + +"I believe she murdered him." + +"David!" + +"She was equal to it; and I'm beginning to see more clearly how +she brought herself to the sticking point. The day before his +death Margaret Wallace called----" + +"Margaret Wallace? you don't say!" + +"She told me so herself this afternoon. She was refused +admission as she supposed by Nannie Foreshaw. I happen to know +that Nannie couldn't have got out of bed and gone downstairs to +save her life--that woman had taken care of that. Before I came +to you I wrote to Nannie asking if she did, to make sure. I +believe that woman played at being Nannie, imitating her voice. +She may have known Margaret's story, probably Grahame had told +her, and was aware that if she returned and saw him her reign +was at an end. So she precipitated matters. She juggled that +will into existence, and, directly she had done so, killed him." + +"It's a weighty charge you're making, David; be careful how you +make it." + +"Do you think I don't know that it's a weighty charge? I'm not +making it. I'm only telling you what's in my mind, as between +friends. I'll not breathe a word of the matter to any one but +you till I can bring it into court, and prove it. At present, in +your lawyer's sense, I've not proof enough to cover a pin's +point. But, Andrew, though the mills of God grind slowly, they +grind surely, and exceeding fine. Maybe one day God's finger +will press her in between the stones, then you'll know that the +conviction which is implanted in my breast is of the nature of +the prophetic vision. God has shown me, though I cannot tell you +how." + +There was silence. The doctor, still standing, bent over the +table on which stood the coffee and liqueurs, pointing with one +skinny finger upwards. He continued in that attitude for a +perceptible period after he had ceased to speak. Then Mr. +McTavish's voice broke the spell which he seemed to have cast +upon the air. + +"David, you use big words. I don't--it's not my way. But +confidence begets confidence. I'll tell you something in +return--and that without insulting you by asking if you can keep +a still tongue--because I know you can." + +The doctor returned to a more normal attitude, seeming to do so +with an effort, as if he were shaking something from him. He +spoke in his ordinary tones. + +"Let me light another cigar before you begin. This sort of +talk's disquieting, especially after such a dinner as I've had. +I think a tonic might not be amiss." He sipped his liqueur. +"Andrew, this is not bad brandy." + +"A hogshead wouldn't hurt you." + +"Wouldn't it? Is it your custom to drink brandy by the hogshead? +I thought you didn't use big words." + +"It's a figure of speech, David--a figure of speech. If you have +that cigar properly lighted, and will sit down like a decent +creature, I'll have my say--that is, if you have not had enough +of the matter under discussion." + +"You're not more ready to talk than I am to listen. Now, Andrew, +I'm at your service." + +"Well, you suspect this lady of something more than +misdemeanour. I may tell you that I doubt if she would have done +what she did do--if she did it!--if she had known what she knows +now." + +"You speak in parables." + +"I'll be plain enough. Did you know anything about Cuthbert +Grahame's affairs?--his financial affairs, I mean." + +"Something." + +"Had you any idea how much he was worth?" + +"He told me himself, not once but frequently, that he was worth +nearer three hundred thousand pounds than two hundred thousand. +He said, moreover, that his investments brought him in an +average interest of over ten per cent. He had made several lucky +hits." + +"That's what he told us; it seems that that's what he told her. +Did you see on what amount probate duty was paid?" + +"Not I; I took no interest in the matter then. I was too +disgusted with myself and everything. My one desire was to get +the whole business out of my head; the trouble is that I haven't +been able to do it." + +"Under forty thousand pounds; and I may tell you that it was +well under forty thousand pounds." + +"What's become of the rest?" + +"That's the mystery which we should like to solve--which she +especially would like to solve; and what she's subjected us to +in her efforts to arrive at a solution no language at my command +is adequate to describe. She's a remarkable woman--a very +remarkable woman. Because she has long since passed the limits +of our endurance is one reason why I am rounding on her to you. +It is not often that I am conscious of such a yearning, but we +have arrived at a position in which I should actually like to +have your advice. That's why I asked you here tonight." + +"Then it wasn't just for old friendship's sake." + +The doctor glowered from the recesses of the huge chair, +expelling the smoke of his cigar from his lips and nostrils. Mr. +McTavish laughed. + +"Well--in a measure. Did you ever think he was romancing when he +talked about his moneys?" + +"I did not--and I don't. He was in earnest. I never knew him +tell a lie when he was in earnest. I'd match his veracity +against my own." + +"Then it's queer--it's queer. At the time of his death we held +securities for him representing some ten thousand pounds lent on +mortgage; the bankers held about as much more. His widow turned +into cash everything that there was to turn, with the exception +of the house, which she will neither sell nor let." + +"I know. It's going to rack and ruin; they say no one's set foot +in it since the day he was buried." + +"I daresay--it's one of her notions--she'll let no one even talk +of it; it's her bogey. Altogether she's had scarcely thirty +thousand pounds." + +"It's in the house." + +"Not it. It's been thoroughly searched by competent hands; she +herself has overhauled it more than once." + +"The money must be somewhere; I'm convinced he had it." + +"Have you any notion where it is? Can you give me any sort of +clue as to its possible whereabouts?" + +"Not I. I know no more about it than--this cigar. Is it likely? +I wasn't his man of business--you were." + +"She says we have it." + +"No!" + +"Yes. She says we have it, or that we know where it is, and are +joined in a conspiracy to keep it out of her possession. The way +she's talked--and treated us! David, she's a remarkable woman." + +"She is that. Don't I know it?--to my cost!" + +"We've had to change the lock on our office door. She let +herself into it with a pass-key--my own, I fear, for I lost it, +though I don't know how; I've never seen it since. She ransacked +everything the place contained. Got into the safe. By some +extraordinary mischance, in which it is quite possible she had a +hand, that night it wasn't locked. She went right through it. +She saw a good deal we had rather she hadn't seen, but she saw +nothing of Grahame's money." + +"Did you catch her in the act?" + +"Catch her! We've never been able to prove it against her yet, +but the presumption's as strong as Hercules. She went to +Brown's, and made him swear by all his gods that he knew nothing +about it; then she made him open his safe, and went through all +his private papers." + +"Brown must be a fine sort of a man." + +"She's a fine sort of a woman. She drugged me in my own house." + +"No?" + +"I say yes! She came here one night. I offered her a little +something to drink--I was having something to drink, and I +couldn't see her sitting dry. I've no doubt that when my back +was turned she put something into my glass which took away my +senses in a flash. When I came to it was early morning; the +daylight was streaming through the blinds; she was gone; the +whole place was upside down." + +"You're a lawyer: didn't you give her a taste of the law?" + +"What was the use? She'd pose as an injured woman--her grievance +is real enough. We'd get no good; it might do us harm. The +mischief is that she's got what she chooses to regard as some +sort of groundwork for her suspicions. It's this way. She met +the secretary of the Hardwood Company. The Hardwood Company's +paid dividends averaging thirty per cent, ever since it started. +The fellow got friendly with her--as plenty of men do get within +five minutes of their meeting her. He told her that only one +original shareholder remained on their lists, and, since the +shares rushed to a premium directly the issue was made, that +therefore he was the only person who received the full benefit +of the thirty per cent. He added that the shareholder's name was +Grahame--Cuthbert Grahame (you may see her pricking her ears at +that!)--and (she always leading him by the nose!) that the +dividends had not been paid to him direct, but to his +solicitors, Messrs. McTavish & Brown, of Southampton Row. He was +a talkable body, that secretary man--men are apt to be talkative +when she gets them alone with her in a corner. He told her +something else: that the queerest part of the business was that +while the shares still stood in Grahame's name, the dividends +had remained unclaimed for quite a while, so that a considerable +sum was waiting for some one to take it. The next morning she +came to us running over with the story. Now I remembered those +shares--an investment which returns thirty per cent, these hard +times one has to remember. He had ten thousand of them; they +were in our charge; we did collect the dividends. But one day he +wrote asking us to send them to him, which we did do. My lady of +course wanted proof. Do you know we couldn't give it her." + +"I don't see why." + +"Under ordinary circumstances nothing could have been simpler. +Such a thing has never before happened in the whole course of my +experience, but by some infernal accident we couldn't lay our +hands on either his letter of instructions, or his +acknowledgment of receipt." + +"There was still the letter advising their despatch." + +"David, ever since that woman appeared on the scene we have been +persecuted by a malignant fate." + +"Big words, Andrew, big words." + +"She moves me to them. On the day Grahame's letter came I +happened to be going abroad. Brown sent a clerk here with his +letter and the shares, so that I might check them and see that +they were right. I packed the clerk back, and sent the shares +myself; but in my haste--I was running the boat train pretty +close!--I was idiot enough not to take a copy of my own letter, +and what I did with Grahame's I have not the dimmest +recollection." + +"Very unbusiness-like." + +"Don't I know it, man! Of course she declined to credit a word +of the story; said that she believed it was a fabrication from +beginning to end; and that she was more than ever convinced that +she was dealing with a set of rogues. The climax is to come! The +day after she had drugged me she came to my office, and produced +a Hardwood Company's share, which she had the assurance to +assert that she had taken out of my own safe when I was in a +state of unconsciousness!--think of it! She had taken it round +to the Company's offices, and it had there been identified as +one of the shares which were standing in Cuthbert Grahame's +name." + +"Was it one of his shares?" + +"It was, beyond a doubt." + +"And had she taken it out of your safe?" + +"David, I can only tell you that she swore she had; and I'm +bound to admit that if she hadn't, I don't know where she got it +from. On the other hand, if she did I have not the vaguest +notion how it got there. Plague take the thing!" + +Mr. McTavish, emptying his liqueur glass, immediately refilled +it. + +"Don't you know what's in your own safe?" + +"Do you take me for a feather-brain? I knew every trifle it +contained, or thought I did. She says that she took up a bundle +of papers, and that the share dropped out of one of them. If it +did, no one knows less than I do who put it there. The only +conclusion at which I can arrive is that, in returning the +shares to Grahame, I overlooked one of them, and that, in my +hurry, it got mixed up with some of the papers which I keep in +my safe, and which were lying on my table at the time. Of all +the evil chances that ever befel a man!" + +"And what was the inference she drew?" + +"The inference she drew! What do you suppose? Why, of course, +that the other nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine shares +were hidden somewhere in my house, exactly as that one had been. +She had brought a solicitor with her to the office--think of it, +David!--a pettifogging rascal of the name of Luker, who'd do +anything for six-and-eightpence; and in his presence--picture +it, David!--she told me that if I didn't permit her to subject +my private premises to a thorough examination she should +immediately commence proceedings for the recovery of the missing +shares. And the creature Luker had the audacity to advise me to +accede to her reasonable request--he called it her reasonable +request! And I complied!--I complied! She, the wretched Luker, +Brown, and myself, we went through every nook and cranny in the +house, all of us together. The humiliation of it!--the maddening +humiliation!" + +With his handkerchief Mr. McTavish wiped his capacious brow, +which was moist with indignant sweat. + +"And did they find the missing shares?" + +"David! Do you want me to make an end of you? The reptile Luker +wrote that if restitution of the shares was not made at once he +was instructed to immediately commence proceedings for their +recovery. And that's only the beginning! If something isn't done +to stop her it's very possible that she'll try to jockey us, by +legal process, out of all the money that she supposes Cuthbert +Grahame to have had. The law on such matters is in such a +state--when twisted by such as Luker!--that there's no knowing +what may be the issue; the one thing certain being that she may +be the occasion to us of the gravest injury." The doctor emitted +a sound which forced a startled inquiry from the other. "What's +the matter with you, man?" + +"I was laughing, to think that a couple of lawyers should be so +mishandled by one of the laity! It's the funniest thing that +ever I heard." + +"It's no laughing matter, David, I can tell you that. Think of +the scandal--that at the age to which I'm come I should be used +as if I were a misbegotten rogue! She's a devil of a woman! And +what's driving her is that she's come to the end of her tether." + +"Do you mean that she's spent all her cash?" + +"I've reason to know she has, or nearly all. She lives in a +great house, has an expensive establishment, spends money like a +queen. She took it for granted that long before this the bulk of +Grahame's money would turn up. Now that it hasn't she's +desperate. She means to get it out of somebody, somehow--or as +much of it as she can--if it's only out of such poor creatures +as McTavish and Brown." + +"You're a pair of weans, you and Brown." + +"So you see, David, how it is I have come to you for help--to +you, my oldest friend. Why it is that I ask you to search your +brain and see if you can give us no clue as to what Cuthbert +Grahame did with his money. No one was more intimate with him +than you, and on such a point there is no one who is more likely +to be able to give us help." + +"If that's so then you'll get help from no one, for it's certain +you'll get none from me. I tell you I know nothing of the +matter." + +"Do you think Miss Wallace could help us? She had an intimate +knowledge of Grahame and of his peculiarities. She might be able +to tell us something which would prove to be of assistance." + +"I'll ask her, if you wish it. But I doubt if you'll gain." + +"Do, David, do. And"--Mr. McTavish tapped his forefinger on the +arm of his chair--"the sooner the better. As to advice, David, +you know this woman; you've had dealings with her before; in a +sense, so far as we're concerned, you're responsible for her +existence. You see the dilemma we are in. What advice have you +to offer?" + +"None--not a ha'porth. I'm not advising." + +"David!" + +"I tell you I'm not, and it's just because I've had dealings +with the woman already. I've tried one fall with her, and I'm +suffering from it still." + +"She's an awful creature!--awful!" + +"There's only one thing I can say to you, Andrew, and that I've +said already, and then you sort of sniggered. But to my mind +it's a comfortable thought when we come to deal with persons +like Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame, or Mrs. Gregory Lamb, or whatever +she calls herself, and it's this, that if the mills of God do +grind slowly, they also do grind surely, and they grind +exceeding small." + + + + + CHAPTER XIX + + IN COUNCIL + + +There were five of them assembled in Margaret Wallace's +sitting-room. Margaret herself, in a linen gown of +cornflower-blue, the product of her own deft fingers, which +became her hugely. Miss Dorothy Johnson, from the rooms below, +who indulged her fondness for unconventional attitudes by +perching herself on the back of one chair and her feet on the +seat of another. Bertram Winton, one of the handsomest of our +actors, tall and dark, with big eyes and curly hair, whose +clothes fitted him with a creaseless perfection which won the +admiration of that considerable feminine public which bought his +photographs and wrote for his autograph. Frank Staines, who was +something of a mystery. He wrote a little, and painted a little, +and drew a little, and sang a little, and played a little, and +talked so much that there were people who said that he could do +that better than he could do anything else. He had money. The +exact quantity was not generally known, but there appeared to be +enough of it to enable him to live in very considerable comfort, +without rendering it necessary for him, to adopt his own +phraseology, to descend into the market-place and "huckster" his +brain. Between Miss Johnson and him there was a state of +continual war, tempered by peaceful intervals of the briefest +duration. It was commonly understood that he was very much in +love with her, had frequently proposed to her and had been +accepted several times, but that on each occasion a rupture had +followed before they were able to make an interesting +announcement to their friends and acquaintances. + +Miss Johnson made a remark to Harry Talfourd, who stood leaning +against the window with an air of almost sombre gloom, which +caused hostilities to break out upon the spot. + +"Let's get to the bed-rock of common-sense. It always seems to +me that in matters of this sort commonsense is the one thing +needed. Harry, what is it you want? You want your play to be +successful--that is, you want it to bring you cash and kudos; +and that is all you want. The question, therefore, which you +have to ask yourself is, if Mrs. Lamb produces 'The Gordian +Knot' will it bring me those two things? To that question you +have only to supply a simple yes or no, and the problem's +solved." + +To which Mr. Staines replied-- + +"That is exactly the sort of remark one expects you to +make--utilitarian, material, sordid. I opine that the one thing +Harry requires you have not mentioned--that is, satisfaction for +his artistic soul." + +"Artistic tommy-rot." + +"My dear Dollie, it is not necessary for you to be vulgar in +order to inform us that you know nothing about the soul--we are +aware of it." + +"My dear Frankie, don't be under the delusion that you need open +your mouth to let the world know that you drivel--it is written +on your countenance." + +"Thank you, Miss Johnson." + +"Don't mention it, Mr. Staines." + +Margaret interposed. + +"While those two are thinking of some more nice things to say to +each other, I should like to know, Mr. Winton, what you really +think." + +"I am afraid, Miss Wallace, that my point of view would be +described by Staines as utilitarian. I propose to conduct my +theatre--when I get it--on a commercial basis." + +"One takes it for granted that an actor-manager is commercial or +nothing." + +"If he isn't commercial, my dear Staines, he's less than +nothing--he's a bankrupt. No one loves a bankrupt, not even your +artistic soul. My intention is to get a theatre; to have it +properly equipped; to give the public as good plays as I can +get; to have them as well acted as circumstances permit. If Mrs. +Lamb is willing to place me in a position to carry out my +intention--on my own terms--I don't know that I have any serious +objection to her playing a part in my initial venture, +particularly as that happens to be a part which, as Talfourd is +aware, I have not hitherto been able to fit with a quite +adequate representative. I realise that the position is not so +simple as it appears, and am conscious that I run the risk of +being overshadowed by the lady's personality. But that is +certainly my risk rather than Talfourd's, and I am willing to +run it in order to gain the end I have in view." + +"Then you say, let Mrs. Lamb play Lady Glover?" + +"I do, since I incline to the opinion that she would not play it +in a fashion which would militate against the success of the +piece." + +"You hear, Harry?" + +"I do; I have heard Winton on the point before." + +"Then why don't you leave matters entirely in his hands, and let +him arrange everything?" + +Harry exchanged glances with the actor. He said, dryly-- + +"I am willing. If I am allowed to--say, run abroad, or remove +myself into the country well out of reach, until, at any rate, +the play's produced, I am content to let Winton do just as he +pleases." + +"I doubt if that would meet Mrs. Lamb's views. I imagine that +she might regard your withdrawal as a personal affront. +Talfourd, will you allow me to explain to Miss Wallace what I +imagine is your exact position in this matter?" + +Miss Johnson addressed a question to Mr. Staines before Margaret +could reply. + +"Frank, you can be honest sometimes, and you can be sensible. +Try to be both of them now. What do you think of Mrs. Lamb?" + +"It is a delicate subject, on which I should not presume to +offer an opinion." + +"That means that you don't love her." + +"I have only loved one person in my life, and it certainly was +not her." + +Miss Johnson looked straight in front of her, as if she desired +to convey the impression that she had no idea that any allusion +was intended. Margaret urged Mr. Winton. + +"Come, tell me what Harry's position really is, since I am quite +unable to get it out of him." + +"Shall I, Talfourd?" + +"You may say what you choose, only give me leave to doubt if you +are so well informed as you yourself imagine. I don't understand +myself as well as I should like to." + +"I fancy I understand pretty well. The truth is, Miss Wallace, +Mrs. Lamb is fonder of Talfourd than he is of her." + +"I am quite aware of that." + +"I don't think you altogether appreciate my meaning. If there +were no Mr. Lamb, Mrs. Lamb would not object to being Mrs. +Talfourd--which is why she wants to produce 'The Gordian Knot,' +and why Talfourd doesn't want her to." + +"Do you mean that she's in love with him? Harry! is this true? +You told me that she had never said anything to you she ought +not to have done." + +"Nor has she. Winton speaks crudely. I don't know what is his +authority for his statement, he certainly has had none from me." + +"Is it simply because--she feels for you like that--that she +wants to produce your play?" + +"Honestly, Meg, I don't know what her reasons are. I wish I +did." + +"Does she know that you're--engaged?" + +"Not that I am aware of. So far as possible I have carefully +avoided speaking to her of myself. Frankly, Meg, it's no use +blinking the fact that as Mrs. Lamb's private secretary there's +nothing for me to do; that she has not the slightest real need +for such a functionary; and that I am very much exercised in my +mind as to the motives which would actuate her in the production +of 'The Gordian Knot'. Although I am quite aware that he meant +well, I should have been obliged to Winton if he hadn't said a +word to her about the thing." + +"At that time I had no actual knowledge of how the land was +lying." + +"But you guessed." This was Margaret. + +"Well, if you will permit me to be quite plain, Miss Wallace, I +don't know that I regarded it as a drawback even if I did guess. +An actor depends for his existence on personal favour. He has to +please the public in the mass, and, also, as individuals. When a +woman tells me she admires me I expect her to take a stall to +see me act; if she admires me very much, I expect her to take +two or three, or a box. There have been women who have admired +me so much that they have booked seats for an entire season. +Now proceed a step farther. I can conceive of it as possible +that a woman might provide me with the means to take a theatre +because her admiration for me was so great. I shouldn't stop to +ask myself trivial questions as to whether she was married +or single, I should regard the matter as purely one of +business--one proof of my success--and take the good the gods +provided, while, at the same time, my position in the affair +would be entirely a platonic one. I want Talfourd to treat the +matter from my point of view, but it seems he can't." + +"I'm sorry." + +"I'm not sorry!" The first remark came from Harry, the second +from Margaret. She went on: "Now I begin to understand. Of +course it's quite inconceivable, Harry, how any one could fall +in love with you; but supposing any woman to be so foolish, I +certainly don't want you to trade on her affection. I'm not +saying it with any desire to wound you, Mr. Winton." + +"Don't be afraid, I'm not easily wounded." + +"But, you see, in this case there are other circumstances to be +considered--there's me. I'm a factor in the question. And shall +I tell you to what conclusion I'm drifting?" + +"Let's have it." + +"I should like to see Mrs. Lamb. You men know her, but I don't. +She hasn't even come within range of my vision, and though I've +the highest respect for you, as men, when it comes to your +opinion of a woman, I don't think a man's opinion worth +anything." + +"You're quite right--it isn't." This was Miss Johnson. + +"I used to have a high opinion of you." This was Mr. Staines. + +"You used to have!--that I should ever have been so belittled!" + +Miss Johnson turned disdainfully from Mr. Staines to Margaret. + +"What you say is perfectly correct, my dear, only a woman's +opinion of a woman is of the slightest value." + +"The other day I heard a woman express her opinion of you in +terms which, if I repeated them to you, might cause you to +change your views." + +"Some women!" + +"I don't know that I go quite so far as Dollie, and there is +something in what Mr. Staines hints, for, of course, there are +women whose opinions of each other are merely so many libels." + +"Hear! hear!" + +"Do be still! Will somebody sit on Mr. Staines?" + +"But this appears to be a case in which a woman's opinion should +be the only thing which ought to count--especially if I'm +the woman; and, lest you accuse me of overweening conceit, +let me hasten to explain. Mrs. Lamb is, I presume, a lady of +beauty----" + +"She's not bad-looking." This was Mr. Staines to, of course, +Dolly. + +"Much you know about a woman's looks!" + +"I used to admire yours." + +"Pooh!" + +"Apparently of fortune, conceivably of taste. She is supposed to +entertain certain sentiments towards a certain gentleman which +she ought not to entertain. Actuated by those sentiments she +proposes to play the part of a feminine Mćcenas and pose as a +patron of the drama. These are the allegations which are made +against her. Introduce me to her; let me talk to her for half an +hour, and I will engage to settle there and then--and +finally!--the question as to whether she is a fit and proper +person to produce 'The Gordian Knot' and play Lady Glover." + +"I'm content!" cried Harry. + +Mr. Winton was more deliberate. + +"Well, under ordinary circumstances, I should be inclined to do +more than hesitate before accepting a lady as arbitrator in such +a matter, but I have such a high opinion of Miss Wallace, though +she herself appraises a masculine estimate of such a subject at +less than nothing----" + +"I make an exception in your case, Mr. Winton--thank you very +much." + +"If she will allow me to say so, I esteem her wide-minded +liberality so greatly, and set such value on her keen-sighted +appreciation of character----" + +"Dear! dear! Margaret, bow!" + +"Dollie! don't interrupt!" + +"That I am quite willing to go so far as this: If, after talking +the matter over with Mrs. Lamb, fully and frankly, and weighing +all the pros and cons, you tell me that you think it would be +better, for all parties interested, that she should have nothing +to do with the play, then, so far as I am concerned, the +question will be settled--she shan't." + +"The point is," struck in Dollie, "how is the poor dear child to +become acquainted with this wonderful woman, who ought to be +immensely flattered if she knows how much you have her in your +thoughts?" + +"There will be no difficulty about that. The lady has an 'At +Home' to-morrow evening, to which, practically, all the world is +welcome. I'll tell her, Meg, that you'd like to make her +acquaintance, and ask her permission to bring you." + +"You'll ask her?" + +Mr. Staines looked at Mr. Talfourd with, in his glance, a +satirical intention which the other ignored. + +"Why not? Nothing could be simpler." + +"No--nothing could be simpler--only I thought you said she +didn't know you were engaged. Do you propose to tell her in what +relation Miss Wallace stands to you?" + +"Certainly! Why do you look at me like that?" + +"I should like to see her face when she receives the +communication, and, again, when she meets Miss Wallace. I know +something of Mrs. Gregory Lamb. I fancy they may both of them be +rather dramatic moments." + +Margaret told him, laughing-- + +"Dear Mr. Staines, you may study the expression of her +countenance when she meets me to your heart's content, if you +choose. Suppose we all of us go together?" + +Mr. Winton rose from his chair. + +"Thank you; that is a proposal which I am afraid I must decline. +Mrs. Lamb might suspect us of conspiracy if we bore down on her +in force. I will be in Connaught Square to-morrow evening, but +perhaps a little late, when I think it possible, Miss Wallace, +that one glance at your countenance will be sufficient to tell +me exactly how the matter stands. Remember the arbitrament of my +fate--as a manager, an issue of no slight consequence--is in +your hands." + +"Poor, innocent, ignorant Mrs. Lamb!" exclaimed Miss Johnson. +"Meg, if she only knew what issues of life and death you are +bringing with you, I don't believe she'd let you into her +house--however nicely Harry might ask her permission to bring +you." + +The young lady spoke much truer than she knew. + + + + + CHAPTER XX + + THE IMPENDING SWORD + + +"I must have ten thousand pounds, and"--Mrs. J. Lamb +paused--"within a week." + +"Must!" + +Mr. Isaac Luker folded his hands together with a gesture which +suggested the act of prayer. He seemed singularly out of place +in his environment. They were in the apartment which Mrs. Lamb +called her boudoir, a word which has a different meaning in the +mouths of different women. In this case it stood for a room +which represented what was possibly the last word in gorgeous +decoration. Everything was of the costliest. If the result was a +trifle vivid, it was not altogether unpleasing. It was a room in +which one could be very much at one's ease--in certain moods--if +one were of a certain constitution. There was something in its +atmosphere which made a not ineffective appeal to the senses, +not so much to the sense of beauty or of intellect, as to that +of physical well-being. In some subtle way the owner's strong +personality impregnated the whole place. On crossing the +threshold a person of delicate perception might have become +immediately conscious of something which could scarcely have +been called healthy. + +But the prevailing note was gorgeousness, and anything less +gorgeous than Mr. Isaac Luker one could hardly conceive. Mrs. +Lamb's costume harmonised with the apartment, it was so +evidently the product of one of those artists in dress to whom +expense is no object. And it became her very well. In it she +looked not only a handsome woman, but almost a real great lady. +Mr. Luker's apparel, on the other hand, was not only unbecoming +and ill-fitting, but it was apparently in the last stage of +decay. None of the garments seemed to have been made for him, +and they were all of them odd ones. He was tall and thin. He +wore an old pair of black-and-white checked trousers, which were +too short in the leg and too big everywhere else; an old black +frock-coat, which he kept closely buttoned, and which must +certainly have been intended for some one who was both +shorter and broader. His long thin neck was surrounded by a +suspicious-looking collar, which was certainly not made of +linen, and he wore by way of a necktie something which might +have once done duty as a band on a bowler hat. One understood, +after a very cursory inspection, why a gentleman who had such a +keen regard for appearances as Mr. Andrew McTavish should object +to being brought into involuntary, and unsatisfactory, +professional contact with Mr. Isaac Luker. + +Yet those who knew had reason to believe that Mr. Luker did a +considerable business of a kind--though it was emphatically of a +kind. He had one or two peculiarities. He was an habitual gin +drinker, and though he could seldom be said to be positively +drunk, he could just as rarely be called entirely sober. To all +intents and purposes he lived on gin. He had it for breakfast, +lunch, dinner, and for afternoon tea and supper, and he did not +seem to find it a very nourishing food. Then, perhaps partially +owing to the monotonous regularity of his diet, he seemed to be +incapable of saying what he meant, while his yeas and his nays +were as worthless as his oaths. For a solicitor to be a +notorious liar and drunkard one would suppose would be a serious +handicap in his profession. Oddly enough, with Mr. Luker it was, +if anything, the other way. The sort of clients he courted +wanted just the sort of man he was. He, speaking generally, +never did any clean business; he was only at home when dealing +with what was unclean; and as there is more of that kind of +commerce about than might be imagined--and some of it is +amazingly lucrative--he did tolerably well. Indeed, there were +those who declared that, although he did not look it, he was +uncommonly well-off, it being one of his characteristics that he +was as incapable of spending money as he was of telling the +truth or giving up gin. + +As he stood there, with his hands folded in front of him in an +attitude of prayer, Mrs. Lamb regarded him with what could +hardly be regarded as glances of admiration. When she addressed +him it was with a frankness which was hardly in keeping with her +_rôle_ of great lady, and which is not usual when one deals with +one's legal adviser. + +"Listen to me, Luker. I want none of your humbug, and I want +none of your lies. I want ten thousand pounds inside a week--and +you've got to get them. I'll give fifteen thousand for the ten, +so there won't be a bad profit for some one." + +"How long do you want the money for?" + +"Oh--three months." + +"On what security?" + +"What security? On the security of my property." + +"Your property?" Mr. Luker did not smile--a smile was probably +another thing of which he was incapable--but his wizened +features assumed a curious aspect. "Of what does your property +consist?" + +"None of your nonsense. To begin with, there are those ten +thousand shares in the Hardwood Company. As you know very well, +they're worth over fifty thousand pounds at the present moment." + +"They would be if you had them--but you haven't." + +"McTavish & Brown have got them, and you're going to make them +disgorge." + +"We've first of all to prove that they've got them." + +"Oh no, we haven't; they have to prove that they handed them +over to Cuthbert Grahame, which is a very different thing, as +you know very well." + +"My dear Isabel, you're a very clever woman; your fault is that, +if anything, you're too clever." + +"I've heard you called too clever before to-day." + +"My dear----" + +"Don't you call me your dear! I won't have it." + +"Very well, although it is possible that few men have a better +right----" + +"Right! Don't you dare to talk to me about right!--you!--don't +you talk to me like that, Mr. Luker! You just simply listen to +me. I want ten thousand pounds before this day week, and you've +got to get it. No one in London knows better than you from whom +and how to get it." + +"Mrs. Lamb--by the way, how is your worthy husband?" + +"Never mind my worthy husband--you keep to the point." + +"Even supposing we are able to saddle McTavish & Brown +with the responsibility for the Hardwood shares--which is +problematical--it'll take a good deal more than three months to +do it. It is not to be supposed that they'll accept an adverse +decision without taking the case through every court available. +That may take years. If in the end it is decided that they will +have to pay, it is not by any means certain that they will be +able to. Costs will have swollen the original total enormously; +it all will have to come from them. There is nothing to show +that they are in a position to pay such a huge sum as that will +be." + +"Oh yes, there is; they're rolling in money; I've seen enough of +them to know so much." + +"You think you have. I doubt if that is a matter on which your +judgment can be trusted. If the case ultimately goes against +them, the possibilities--I should say the probabilities--are +that they will declare themselves bankrupt. Then where will you +be? You will have to pay your own costs, and, instead of getting +the amount adjudged, after another interval of dreary waiting, +you may receive, as a final quittance, perhaps sixpence, or a +shilling, in the pound. And in the meantime, you must remember, +you will have to live." + +"You old croaker!" + +"Let me make a suggestion." + +"Your suggestions!" + +She brought her fist down on the back of an armchair with an +emphasis which almost suggested that she would have liked that +chair to have been some portion of his body. + +"Let me lay the whole case before a friend of mine, and, after +he has given it careful consideration, it is possible that he +may make you a proposition." + +"What sort of proposition?" + +"That I cannot tell you--the best he can." + +"You understand that I must have ten thousand pounds within a +week?" + +"I hear you say so. If my friend can see his way no doubt he +will let you have them." + +"Mind he does see his way!" + +"As to that----" + +Mr. Gregory Lamb's sudden appearance in the doorway perhaps +allowed to serve as an excuse for his sentence to remain +unfinished. + +"You here!" exclaimed Mr. Lamb, as if he were not too well +pleased to see him. "I didn't know." + +Mr. Luker's greeting, although well meant, was a little +peculiar. + +"My dear Mr. Lamb, how well you are always looking!--and always +so beautifully dressed. What a lovely pin you have in your +pretty necktie! Now I know a friend who would give you----" + +"I don't want to know what your friend would give me! Confound +it, Luker, I never see you but you tell me what some one you +know would give me for something I have on. You might be a +marine store-dealer." + +"There are worse trades, Mr. Lamb--there are worse trades. Now +with regard to that exquisite pair of trousers----" + +"Look here, Luker, if you're going to tell me what some one you +know will give me for my trousers, I'll throw something at you." + +"You mustn't do that, Mr. Lamb, it might be something worth +money--everything in the room is so very beautiful. Mrs. Lamb, I +wish you good-morning." + +"Now, no nonsense, Luker. I want that within a week--and you've +got to see I have it--if you don't want trouble!" + +"I understand perfectly, and will bear what you have said well +in mind. You shall hear from me again very shortly." + +"I will see I do!" + +"I have had clients, Mr. Lamb, who would have conveyed that pin +without paying for it--it presents such temptations to an honest +man. I do hope it's properly secured. Good-morning!" + +When Mr. Luker had retired Mr. Lamb turned to his wife, with +knitted brows. + +"Isabel, it's beyond my comprehension why you have anything to +do with that animal. He's got scoundrel written large all over +him." + +"I shouldn't have thought that would have prejudiced him in your +eyes." + +"I suppose you think that's smart. I know there was a time when +we both of us had to sail pretty close to the wind, but I +thought that time had gone for ever. You've told me so over and +over again. You're a woman of large fortune, of assured +position, a person of importance. I should have thought that +from the point of view of policy alone it would have been worth +your while to have dealings with solicitors of standing only, +and to have nothing to do with such a brute as that. Aren't you +ashamed to have him seen going in and out of the house, or to +have the servants know that he is here?" + +"I'm not easily ashamed--you ought to know that. Is that all +you've come for?--to tell me what you think about what is no +concern of yours?" + +"What's this I hear about your bringing out a play, and acting +in it yourself?" + +"Who told you that?" + +"Winton--to my amazement!" + +"What did he tell you?" + +"Something about your producing a play of +Talfourd's--Talfourd's, of all people in the world! My hat! he +said that you proposed to act one of the principal parts in it +yourself. Isabel, that's going too far; I won't stand it." + +"You won't what?" + +There was something in the lady's tone and in her attitude +before which he obviously quailed. + +"I don't think that it's becoming in a woman of your position, +as--as my wife." + +"It's not my fault that I'm your wife." + +"Still the fact remains that you are. By the way, has Talfourd +been saying anything to you about me?" + +"What should he say?--except to advise me to sew you in a sack +and drop you into the river." + +"That's just what he'd like--he's that sort of man." + +"Is he? He's what you never were, never will be, never could +be--a gentleman. Why you don't even begin to understand what a +gentleman is." + +"'Pon my word, I wonder that I let you talk to me like this. I +don't want to quarrel with you--I hate quarrelling!--I really +do. You couldn't treat me worse if I were a shoeblack." + +"I never met any one yet whose shoes you were worthy to black. +Why, Luker's a man compared to you. He doesn't sponge upon a +woman." + +"It's not fair of you to speak to me like this--it is not! I +know you're not fond of me----" + +"Fond of you!--fond!" + +The lady flung out her arm, as if the idea of her entertaining +any feeling of that kind for her husband was a grotesque one, +and she laughed. As he continued his tone suggested a snarl. + +"I don't know that I'm particularly fond of you. You don't go +out of your way to make yourself agreeable to a fellow. You've +only got to say the word to be rid of me for--well, at any rate, +a good long time." + +"What's the word? L.S.D.?" + +Mr. Lamb coughed. + +"A fellow can't go away with empty pockets." + +"I thought so. Out with it! What are you at?" + +"The truth is, Isabel, I'm not feeling very well." + +"If you were feeling as I'd like you to feel you'd be feeling +very much worse." + +"That's frank! A nice thing for a wife to say to her husband! I +believe you're capable of anything." + +"I am--I always have been--and I always shall be, you bear that +constantly in mind. Why can't you say what you want? If it is +prussic acid to use upon yourself I'll give you money enough to +buy a barrelful." + +The expression of Mr. Lamb's countenance was sullen, so also was +the tone of his voice, which perhaps on the whole was not to be +wondered at. + +"I want to go to the Riviera." + +"That means Monte Carlo. Well go--at once--and never come back +again." + +"If you'll give me the coin I'll start in a jiffy." + +"How much do you want?" + +"I daresay I could manage with a thousand. I've hit upon a +system." + +"You've hit upon a system!" + +"If you'll only keep still for a moment I'll tell you what it +is, and then you'll see for yourself it's an absolute cert. I'll +turn the thou. into fifty in less than no time. I can't help +doing it!--you see!--and then I'll give you half." + +"You'll give me half! Then am I to understand that you won't go +unless I give you a thousand pounds?" + +"I couldn't do it on less--the system I mean. I've worked out +all the details and I really couldn't. I'll show you if you +like. It's want of capital that wrecks a man in a thing like +this. If you haven't got the proper amount--the lowest possible +amount that's absolutely necessary--you might as well throw your +money into the sea." + +"Then you'll never go at all, because I haven't a thousand +pounds to give you." + +"What do you mean?" + +"It's simple. I don't think I've fifty pounds at my bankers, and +I'm pretty sure that they won't honour my cheque if I overdraw." + +"Isabel!" + +"You owe money, don't you?" + +"I daresay I owe a bit here and there." + +"So I've been given to understand. I also owe a bit. And my +creditors, like yours, won't wait." + +"Mine will have to." + +"Will they? I thought that was just what they wouldn't do." + +"Who's been telling you tales about me?" + +"A little bird. So you see, Gregory, I'm more in want of a +thousand pounds, because you can't carry on a house like this +for long on fifty pounds, even if I have so much at the bank, +which, as I say, I doubt." + +"Fifty pounds! You're playing the fool with me--it's a favourite +game of yours. What's become of the quarter of a million you +told me that man Grahame had left you?" + +"That's what I should like to know." + +"You don't mean you've spent it? You can't have done--not in the +time." + +"I've never had it to spend." + +"What rot are you talking? What game are you playing? Have you +all along been telling me nothing but lies?" + +"Cuthbert Grahame told me himself that he was worth more than a +quarter of a million; soon after he died I told you that only a +small portion of the money could be found." + +"You told me nothing of the kind--you've never told me anything. +Whenever I asked you a question you've always shut me up. You've +kept me all along in the dark." + +"Then I tell you now. Only a small sum was ever found, and +that's been spent--and more than spent." + +"Then am I to understand that he was fooling you when he talked +about his quarter of a million?" + +"I don't believe that he was. I believe he was telling the +truth; that he was worth what he said; only it's never been +found, and no one seems to know where it is." She held out her +clenched fists in front of her, shaking them, as if she were +endeavouring, by the exercise of sheer physical force, to assist +her mental process. "Sometimes I feel that I know--that I am +very near to knowing--that if I could do something I should know +quite. It's as if I'd been told something in a dream, and, on +waking, had forgotten what it was. I don't like to think of the +time he died--I can't." She looked about her, as if unconscious +of his presence, with something on her face, in her eyes, which +startled him. "Yet if I could--if I could! I believe it would +all come back to me what I have forgotten, and I should know +where the money is. But I can't! I can't! Since--since the +pillow slipped from under him, I--I've never been the same." + +She dropped into a chair, looking straight in front of her, with +her hands dangling at her sides, as if she saw--she alone knew +what. This was such a new mood for her that its very novelty +scared Mr. Lamb. + +"Don't look like that, Belle! What are you looking at?" + +"God knows! God knows!" + +Mr. Lamb squirmed. + +"Don't! I say, drop it! You're a cheerful sort of person, upon +my word! I come here to get a pound or two, and you go on like +this! Do you mean to tell me straight that we're hard up?" + +"There are three things that can save us, and three things only. +If I could think I might find the money." + +"Then, for the Lord's sake, think! Only don't think like that; +it gives me the creeps to hear you." + +"I can't think, anyhow, about that; I've tried, and I can't. If +I could get the money out of McTavish & Brown, that would be +something." + +"Get it out of any one, but please remember that sharp's the +word." + +"Then there's the play--Harry Talfourd's play--I believe there's +fame and fortune in that--and safety. Do you know what that +means--safety?" + +"Gracious, Isabel! don't shout at me like that! My nerves were +all mops and brooms when I came; you've made them ever so much +worse. I'm all of a twitter. I'll talk to you when you're in a +more reasonable mood; you'll upset me altogether if I stay much +longer." Mr. Lamb withdrew, to return immediately, at least so +far as his head and shoulders were concerned, the rest of his +body he kept on the other side of the door. "Deal fairly with a +chap--do! I must have cash from somewhere, or I shall be in a +deuce of a hole. Can you let me have fifty?" + +"I can't." + +"Can you make it twenty-five?" + +"I can't. I can't let you have anything. Do you want me to yell +at you? I--can't--let--you--have--anything! Do you hear that?" + +"All right! don't shout at a man like that! I should think you +must be going off your head. I never saw you in such a cranky +mood before." + +Mr. Lamb beat a precipitate retreat, this time finally. His +wife, left alone, remained seated on her chair in that very +curious attitude, with that very curious look upon her face. + +"It must be imagination--what they call an optical delusion. +Perhaps, as he says, I'm going off my head. One thing's certain, +it can't be real. This is not his room; that's not his bed; +that's not----" She veiled her eyes with the palms of her hands. +"No! no!--I'm too much alone. I shall go mad if I'm so much +alone--mad!" + +She sat silent for some moments, with her features all +contorted, as if she were wrestling with actual physical pain. +Then, rising, she took out of a small cupboard in an ormolu +cabinet a decanter containing some colourless liquid. Pouring +some of it into a wineglass she swallowed it at a draught. + +It was pure ether. She resorted to it to minister to a mind +diseased. + +When, later, she descended to the apartment which was called, as +it almost seemed ironically, Mr. Talfourd's workroom, that +gentleman rose to greet her with a smile. She also smiled. To +all outward seeming she was herself again--self-possessed, +satisfied with herself and with the world, at peace with every +one. They exchanged a few banal sentences, both remaining on +their feet, she looking at him with eyes which, to phrase it +diplomatically, flattered, he meeting her glance with an +appearance of serene unconsciousness that there was anything in +it which was singular. Presently she touched on the topic which +was to the front in both their minds. + +"About the play--have you thought it over? Am I to play Lady +Glover?" + +He still was diplomatic. + +"You will understand that I, being a conceited and self-centred +author, the matter of my play bulges out until it assumes for me +what you will probably, and correctly, consider exaggerated +proportions. Will you let me think it over a little longer? In +the first place, I have settled nothing with Mr. Winton, and, in +the second, I want to ask you to do me a favour." + +"You are aware that between you and me for you it is but to ask +and to have--anything, everything, I have to give." + +If her words were significant, the manner in which they were +spoken underlined them. Neither the manner nor the matter of his +reply could be termed sympathetic. + +"I don't know if you are aware that I am engaged to be married." + +If something flickered across her face which was not there a +moment before, it went as quickly as it came. + +"No, I wasn't. Are you?" + +"I, of course, don't expect you to be interested in the +trivialities of my life, and I only mention it as a mere detail, +but--the lady would very much like to know you. May she?" + +"My dear Mr. Talfourd! hadn't you better put it the other way? +May I know her? and when? May I call on her? or will she pay me +the great compliment of coming to see me?" + +"You're very kind. With your permission she will come and see +you to-night." + +"To-night? I'm at home--of course! Do you know I'd almost +forgotten it. Bring her by all means. Tell her she's to come +early, before the people, and that she's to stop late, after the +crowd has gone." + +Of such clay are we constituted. She had not the dimmest notion +that in giving that very warm invitation she was hanging up over +her own head a sword of Damocles, which, in this case, was +suspended by something which was almost less than a single hair. + + + + + CHAPTER XXI + + OUT OF THE BLUE + + +Mrs. Gregory Lamb's "At Home" was crowded by rather a +nondescript gathering. The lady's hospitality was scarcely of +the kind which discriminates. Had she set herself to pick and +choose her acquaintances, their number might have been +considerably less. She had learnt that the people she wished to +know were apt not to be anxious to know her; rather the other +way. She had to be content with the society of those who did +wish to know her. Whether she was particularly desirous of the +honour of their acquaintance was another matter altogether. As +she wished to know somebody, using the word in the sense of a +noun of multitude, she had to put up with what she could get. +The result was a little confusing. This is not to say that there +were no decent persons among the hordes which thronged her +rooms: there were. Possibly the chief objection which could be +urged against them was that, for the most part, they were +hungry. Not only as regards the physical appetite; though a +large proportion of them were quite willing to consume all the +food they could obtain, and all the drink. They were hungry in +every sense of the word. To use a significant euphemism, a very +great majority of Mrs. Lamb's guests were "on the make". They +all wanted something. Many wanted a great many things, and +wanted them very badly. There was a generous fringe of what is +called the "literary, musical and artistic world"--those +excellent people who will go into every house into which they +can gain admittance. Singers who are looking for people who will +listen while they sing, and who will pay for listening. Authors +in search of an "opening," victims of that quaint delusion that +in order to achieve popularity it is necessary to keep one's +person well in the public eye, as if it were not easier for the +novelist who lives in the centre of Timbuctoo to gain, and keep, +a circulation of a hundred thousand copies--that consummation so +devoutly to be desired!--than for the pet of London +drawing-rooms. Composers who wanted some one to hear their +"works"; musicians who were apparently content to play on their +various instruments, and keep on playing, whether they were +listened to or not; artists who nourished more or less timid +hope that, having provided them with food, and drink, and +house-room, their hostess would purchase half a dozen of their +"sketches," by way of providing a pleasant climax to their +evening's entertainment; actors--and actresses!--who were +willing to do anything, from the "splits" to "Hamlet," and +to do it then and there; dramatists, who could have told you +tales--and tried to!--of managerial incompetence which would +have made your blood run cold, if they had not been so +monotonously alike. These worthy folk, foredoomed to failure, +were at Mrs. Lamb's in force. + +There were others. Birds, some of them, of the same plumage, who +had achieved a more successful flight, and promised to sustain +it, and perhaps fly even higher. Men and women who had won for +themselves prominent places in their several callings--perhaps +not quite in the front rank, but still near enough--who, having +been in many such, understood what kind of house it was that +they were in. It is to be feared that they regarded their +hostess at best with but amusement, wondering, if she really had +as much money as people said, how it was that she was willing to +get so little for it. + +Then there were the nondescripts--that large battalion. Some +actually with titles, though probably a trifle smirched. People +who were the Lord alone knew who, or what they did for a living. +Persons who claimed to be something in the City, and no doubt +were; whose wives, if they had them, gave you the impression +that their husbands were in the same line of business as the +Rothschilds. There was probably no trade or profession, from the +highest to the lowest, which went unrepresented that night in +Connaught Square. + +And besides all these there were the score or so of individuals +whom the hostess really knew, or thought she did. And among them +moved Mrs. Lamb, as if she knew them all. Beautifully dressed, +probably the best, without doubt the most expensively, dressed +woman there. There were diamonds on her fingers, her wrists, on +her bosom, about her neck, in her hair. If they were real, and +it were blasphemy to doubt it, she would have been reduced into +something worth having if she had been put up to auction as she +stood. She looked, if not exactly divine, then certainly not +unprepossessing. There were many present, both male and female, +who thought her lovely, one of the loveliest women they had ever +seen. That was just the assemblage to which such charms as hers +would make their most strenuous appeal, so that, since a woman +loves appreciation, in her generation she was wise. + +For one so young, and in years she still was very young, she +bore herself with singular ease. She had cast herself for the +_rôle_ of great lady. If the type on which she had fashioned +herself smacked somewhat of the theatre, her success was none +the less, but rather all the more, on that account. In her way +she really and truly was irresistible. So full of smiles and of +sweetness, so good to look upon. So tall and well set, with such +splendid arms and shoulders, such a rounded neck, such +good-humour in her face. There was such a suggestion of youth +about her--the youth which must prevail, of vital force, of +physical vigour. She presented in herself such a striking +example of the creed that's all for the best in this best of all +possible worlds. She was such an excellent product of that great +and shining god, Success. He had showered on her all his gifts, +and she on her part seemed quite willing to divide them with +whoever would. She seemed to have the knack of saying the right +thing to the right person, being possessed either of a wonderful +memory for names and faces, or, in an almost miraculous degree, +of the trick of arriving, on the instant, at just conclusions +from the scantiest data. She knew who wrote songs; what songs +they had written; even what songs they were about to write; and +who liked it to be thought that they were distant connections of +the Rothschilds. She either had this information stored away in +innumerable cells in her illimitable brain, or she picked it +from people while they talked to her, out of their eyes, lips, +pockets, without their suspecting that she was doing anything of +the kind. + +She might have stood as the personification of human happiness, +as the possessor of everything that the heart could desire. +There were many there who credited her with being both these +things, envying her more or less, admiring her perhaps even +more. They would have readily believed that in her bed of roses +there was not one crumpled leaf. Her radiant bearing, her +beaming visage, seemed to suggest that she lived, and moved, and +had her being in the lotus-land of happy dreams, which, for her, +had grown realities. + +As the evening advanced she seemed to become, if anything, more +light-hearted--gayer still--as if the success of her gathering, +the happy looks with which she everywhere was greeted, had +inoculated her with some subtle essence which raised her out of +herself. Harry Talfourd and Margaret Wallace came, in a +"growler," when she was at her best and brightest. Although it +was late, and some of the earliest comers were going, others +were still arriving. A long line of vehicles were slowly +depositing their occupants at the front door. In this line Mr. +Talfourd's cab took its proper place, in the rear, and in that +line it bade fair to continue for some considerable time. The +lady and gentleman soon grew impatient. + +"Are we going to stay in this cab all night?" inquired Margaret. + +The gentleman put his head out of the window. + +"It looks as if we were. We're about half a mile from the house, +and there seems to be no end of confusion; people are both +coming and going, and there's a fine old muddle. I say, Meg, +it's quite fine and dry; do you think you could get out and walk +the rest of the way? or would it make a mess of you?" + +"Make a mess of me! what do you mean? Open that door; I'll soon +show you." + +He opened the door, and she showed him. + +Getting through the wide open portals of Mrs. Lamb's residence, +and then up the staircase, on which people were ascending and +descending in a continual stream, occupied some time. + +"I feel," observed Margaret, when they had reached the +drawing-room door, "as if I had gone through a course of the +'home-exerciser,' or whatever they call the thing which is +guaranteed to give employment to every muscle in your body. If +all these persons are Mrs. Lamb's friends she must be a +well-loved woman." + +In the drawing-rooms themselves there was room to move slowly, +if one observed a few necessary precautions. At their first +entrance nothing could be seen of their hostess. As Harry +piloted her through the room Margaret found sufficient +occupation in the spectacle presented by her fellow-guests. In +the course of her somewhat varied experiences she had met some +curiosities, but never before had she encountered such specimens +of humanity as were about her now. While she was wondering who +they could be, and where they could have come from, Harry gently +pressed her arm. + +"There's Mrs. Lamb in the other room; I'll introduce you." + +Margaret looked, and saw, in the smaller room which was beyond, +a woman standing, with her back towards her, whom she became +instinctively conscious was her hostess. Not only was she the +most striking figure in that great crowd, but she was surrounded +by a number of people, to all of whom she seemed to be talking +at once. Her head being turned away, her face was not visible +from where they were, so that it could have told her nothing; +yet so singular sometimes is feminine human nature, that Harry +had hardly finished speaking when Margaret replied-- + +"Please don't introduce me to that woman; I'd rather you didn't. +Take me away at once." + +There was something so unusual in the girl's tone that Harry +stared at her in amazement. + +"Meg! is there anything wrong?" + +"Thank you, there is nothing wrong, only--I want to go." + +"Go! You can't go now--it's impossible--before I've introduced +you, since you're here for that special purpose." + +"I don't want to be introduced. I'd rather you didn't. Harry, +you mustn't!" + +"Meg, don't look like that. She's not an ogre; she won't bite +you. Child, what's gone wrong with you all of a sudden? You +needn't stop more than five minutes--and this atmosphere's +enough to asphyxiate any one; but, after what I said to her this +morning, and since you have come, the commonest courtesy compels +me to introduce you; afterwards we can go at once; any excuse +will serve. Anyhow it's too late now for us to think of going +before I've made you known to her." + +What Mr. Talfourd said seemed to be the fact. The current had +borne them so close to their hostess that she had but to turn +round to find herself within arm's length of them. Margaret was +silent. Harry did not look at her face; he was careful not to do +so. The sudden curious change in the girl's manner had affected +him more than he would have cared to admit. He knew that she was +not a person who was liable to be beset by fantastic whims and +fancies, and that there was probably some substantial reason for +the alteration which had taken place in her. His wish was to get +through the ceremony of introduction with as much speed, and as +little ostentation, as he could, and then depart, if the feat +were possible, more quickly than they had come. With this +intention, taking the bull a little by the horns, he addressed +their hostess while her back was still turned towards them. + +"Mrs. Lamb!" + +At the sound of the voice, for whose accents she had been +listening all the evening, the lady moved round with quite a +little swirl of her draperies; there was just sufficient open +space about her to enable her to do it. + +"Mr. Talfourd! I thought you had forgotten me, and were never +coming. And--have you brought the lady?" + +"I have. Permit me to introduce to you Miss Margaret Wallace." + +There have possibly been moments in most of our lives when we +have been visited by something of the nature of a thunderbolt, +and sometimes it has seemed to drop out of the clearest of blue +skies. That was the moment in her life in which the thunderbolt +descended on Mrs. Lamb, and with such crushing force that, for a +too perceptible period of time, it left her literally bereft of +her right senses. Its utter unexpectedness was no slight factor +in the havoc which it wrought. Possibly more than she had been +able to do for a considerable interval she had succeeded in +putting behind her matters which were wont to press too closely; +for the moment she had forgotten Pitmuir--all that it meant. +This was a case in which forgetfulness meant happiness, or a +very tolerable substitute. If only for a few fleeting minutes +her mind was at peace. + +And, on a sudden, without a moment's warning, not dreaming that +such a meeting was even within the range of possibility, she +found herself confronted by the one person in the world whom she +would have traversed the universe to avoid. There, in her own +drawing-room, within two feet of her was the girl who was the +only living creature whose image haunted her, both awake and +asleep. + +She had had communion of late with ghosts--unwillingly enough, +for she had resorted to every means with which she was +acquainted to drive them from her. Yet come they would. +Therefore it was not, after all, so strange, that in the first +moments of what practically amounted to delirium, she supposed +that this bonny, fair-haired, blue-eyed girl, whom she so hated +and so feared, was one of them. + +When she heard her name, and saw her face, she moved back upon +the people who were behind, oblivious that they were there. The +whole fashion of her countenance was changed. She held out her +arms, as if to ward off something whose approach she feared. And +she exclaimed, in a voice which none of those about had heard +from her before-- + +"You can't come in!--you can't! He says you're not to--and you +shan't! Go away! go away!" + +Not one person in the throng which was around her had a notion +what she meant, Margaret no more than any of them. She herself +drew back and clung to Mr. Talfourd's arm, as if in fear. But +her fear was as nothing to the other's. Their hostess offered in +herself a picture for her guests' inspection which it was not +pleasant to behold. She seemed to have all at once become +transformed into a gibbering idiot. While she persistently drew +farther and farther back, she kept repeating-- + +"You shan't come in!--you shan't! He says you're not to--and you +shan't! you shan't! I say you shan't!" + +There was among the onlookers a medical man, one who had had +experience of different phases of lunacy. Perceiving that this +was a case which entered into his domain, he forced himself to +the front. He put his hand upon his hostess' bare shoulder. + +"Mrs. Lamb! what has affected you? There is nothing here to +cause you the slightest disturbance. Control yourself, I beg." + +His tone of calm authority had instant effect. Mrs. Lamb was +still, she ceased to gibber. Her arms fell to her sides. She +remained motionless, staring in front of her, as one in a dream. +Putting her hands up to her face, a convulsion seemed to pass +all over her. When she removed her hands she was awake, and +understood, and knew what she had done. The knowledge was more +than she could bear. + +"Let me pass," she cried. + +They let her pass. She swept through her guests, who huddled +themselves together to let her go, like some incensed wild +creature, out of the room, from their sight. + + + + + CHAPTER XXII + + MARGARET SETTLES THE QUESTION + + +Harry Talfourd hurried Margaret Wallace into the street as fast +as circumstances permitted, while the guests at Mrs. Lamb's were +looking at each other, exchanging whispers, asking what had +happened, what the thing which had happened meant. A few seconds +after the hostess' departure the crowded rooms were filled with +the buzz of voices, which rose higher and higher until it became +a pandemonium of noise. Mrs. Lamb's "At Home" had resolved +itself into chaos. + +Outside in the street Mr. Talfourd did not find it easy to get a +cab; the chaos within was already beginning to make itself felt +without. The whole roadway was a confusion of vehicles. +Perceiving that it was inadvisable to stand still, since they +immediately became the cynosure of curious, and even +impertinent, eyes, Harry marched resolutely onward, holding the +girl tightly by the arm. They had to go some little distance +before they could find a four-wheeled cab which would condescend +to give them shelter. + +So soon as they were in, Margaret drew back into the corner of +her seat with a movement so eloquent that Harry seemed to hear +her shiver. He was silent, trying to collect his thoughts. He +was as much at a loss as any of the excited people they were +leaving behind. When he spoke it was lightly, as if he desired +to make as little of the matter as might be. He was conscious +that in the farther corner, as far away from him as she could +get, was the girl he loved, in a mood wholly unlike any that he +had known before. He was fearful of what might be coming next. +So he endeavoured not to be serious. + +"This promises to be a night of adventure. Did you ever see such +a scramble for cabs? People were rushing out of the house as if +it were on fire. We'll hope there'll be no accident before +they've finished. What did you think of Mrs. Gregory Lamb? +Something must have occurred to upset her equilibrium; she +showed quite a new side of her character." Margaret was still. +He seemed to hear her breathe; he wondered if it were possible +that she was crying. He put out his hand, touching hers gently +with his finger-tips. Although she did not repulse him she +remained impassive, not in any way acknowledging his caress. +"Meg, I hope you're not worrying yourself about that woman's +behaviour. She's not quite responsible, I fancy. She certainly +wasn't to-night, but there was nothing that need trouble you." + +"I am wondering what she meant." + +"Meant? My dear child, she meant nothing, absolutely nothing. +She's a trifle mad, that's all." + +"I'm not so sure. I believe she did mean something." + +"What on earth makes you think that? What could she mean?" + +"I can't explain. At present I don't understand myself; but I +shall--I know I shall. Only I'm afraid." + +"Afraid! Sweetheart, don't talk like that! You make me feel as +if I had done something I oughtn't to have done." + +"You have done nothing. Still I wish you hadn't introduced me. I +asked you not to." + +"But, Meg! the whole thing was your own proposition; the whole +idea was yours from first to last." + +"Yes, I know; but then I didn't understand." + +"What didn't you understand?" + +"I hadn't seen her." + +"You hadn't seen her? Meg, have you ever seen Mrs. Lamb before?" + +"Never." + +"Has she ever seen you?" + +"That's what I'm wondering; that's what I'm trying to make out." + +"It's a very mysterious business altogether; and the way you're +taking it seems to me to be not the least mysterious part of the +whole affair--and I can't say that I'm fond of mysteries. +However, as some one or other says in a play, though I'm afraid +I can't tell you what play, 'Time will show'." + +When they reached Margaret's rooms they found that Frank Staines +and Mr. Winton had arrived already, and were waiting for them at +the street door. They all went up together. So soon as they were +in the room Mr. Winton asked his question-- + +"Well, Miss Wallace, is Mrs. Lamb to create Lady Glover?" + +Had he put to her an inquiry on the answer to which the whole +happiness of her life was dependent, it could hardly have moved +her more. + +"Never! never! never!" + +She repeated the word three times over, with each time an +additional emphasis. Mr. Winton, probably accustomed to +strenuous utterances on the part of ladies to whom the theatre +was the chief end and aim of their existence, appeared to be +entertained by her intensity. Putting his hands behind his back +he regarded her with smiling face. + +"And isn't she to produce the play?--that is, if she's willing +to do so if she's not to be allowed to play in it?" + +"She is to have nothing to do with it--nothing." + +"You appear to have arrived, Miss Wallace, at a decision which +is final and conclusive, and to have done so in a very short +space of time." + +"I have." + +"The matter is placed beyond the pale of my discussion?" + +"It is." + +Mr. Winton turned to Harry with a little gesture of amusement. + +"Then, Talfourd, we shall have to seek for another capitalist, +and as that is not a bird which is easy to find, 'The Gordian +Knot' will have to be shelved for a still further indefinite +period. Let's trust that some of us will live to see it +produced." + +In her turn Margaret faced Harry with an air of penitence. + +"I'm so sorry, but I would rather that it were never produced at +all than that it should owe anything to that woman--and you know +how I have set my heart on its success." + +He tried to comfort her, as if the loss were hers. + +"'The Gordian Knot' won't spoil by keeping; don't let it trouble +you a little bit; dismiss Mrs. Lamb from your mind as if she had +never been. She's nothing to you, or to me, or to any of us; +she's just--like that!" + +He snapped his fingers in the air, as if by the action he +expressed her valuation. Margaret answered with an enigmatic +smile. + +"Like that? I don't think she'll be to me like that--ever." + +"But, my dear girl, why not? why not?" + +"Ah! that I cannot tell you, because I don't know. But I shall +know, and, when I do, I daresay I shall wish I didn't." + +Harry threw up his hands in the air as if it were a case which +baffled him. Frank Staines, who had been listening with a +twinkle in his eyes, observed-- + +"I understand, Miss Wallace, that your appearance at Mrs. Lamb's +furnished the occasion for quite a dramatic interlude". + +Margaret moved her shoulders, as if the recollection made her +shudder. + +"I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind--thank you very +much. I'm awfully sorry to turn you people out, but--I think I'd +like to go to bed, if I may." + +When the three men found themselves in the street Winton said to +Harry-- + +"Miss Wallace's idea does not seem to have been altogether a +success". + +Harry did not reply at once; when he did his tone was a little +grim. + +"I'm not so sure. My own impression is--though if you were to +ask me I could not tell you in so many set terms on what it's +founded--that we're well rid of the lady, and that we are rid of +her I think there's very little doubt." + +Frank Staines remarked-- + +"If the lady's mad, or if she's subject to fits of madness--and +if she isn't I don't know what she is--it's just as well that +you've discovered it before it was too late". + +Judging from their silence that seemed to be the opinion of the +others also. + +The next morning Miss Wallace was distinctly in an +uncommunicative mood, as Miss Johnson, who paid her a very +matutinal call, found, whereupon the young lady expressed +herself with characteristic frankness. + +"Really, Meg, I've known you for quite a time, and I was just +beginning to think that you were a really Christian person, but +now it's actually bursting on me that you can be nothing of the +kind. You sit there, mumchance, looking all sorts of things and +saying nothing; and if there can be anything more exasperating +than that, I should like to know what, it is. You promised, last +night, before you went to Mrs. Lamb, that you would tell me +everything that happened--I'm sure something did happen, by the +looks of you--yet the more I ask you questions, the more you +won't answer them. Do you call that being as good as your word? +I don't--so that's plain. I'm disappointed in you, Margaret +Wallace." + +Margaret smiled, a little wanly. + +"I hope you'll forgive me, Dollie, please! but I can't talk to +you just now, and especially about last night. Ask Harry, or Mr. +Staines, they'll tell you everything, and perhaps a little later +I will myself, but just now I really and truly can't." + +Dollie, eyeing her shrewdly, perceiving she was in earnest, +bowed to the inevitable. + +"Very well; I shouldn't dream of asking anything of Mr. Frank +Staines, he might treat me even worse than you are doing. But +it's possible that I may put a few questions to your Harry. The +fact is that if some one doesn't tell me something soon I shall +simply burst with curiosity. I have never concealed from any one +that curiosity's my ruling passion--it's the case with all +literary persons, my dear! Meg!"--she went and put her arm about +the girl's neck, and the tone of her voice was changed--"if +anything horrid happened at that woman's, never mind; after all, +horrid things don't really matter, they generally turn out much +better than they seem. I once had thirteen MSS. rejected in one +week, and yet I bore up, and I planted them all before I'd done +with them. I've never seen you look like this before, and I +don't half like it. I always make you the heroine of all my +stories, because you're the best plucked girl I ever met; so +buck up, and stop it as soon as you conveniently can." + +Miss Johnson had not departed very long before Margaret had +another visitor--Dr. Twelves. He found her much more talkative +than Dollie had done. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIII + + MARGARET RESOLVES TO FIGHT + + +So soon as the doctor appeared in the doorway Margaret ran to +him with outstretched hands, in her voice a curious, eager note. + +"I knew you'd come!--I knew it!" + +The doctor took her soft hands in his well-worn ones, regarding +her from under the pent-house of his overhanging brows with his +keen hawk's eyes, which age had not perceptibly dimmed, as if he +sought for something which he fancied might be hidden in some +corner of her face. + +"Did you? How did you know it?" + +"I don't know; but I did--I was sure." + +"Maybe you've the gift of second sight. I've heard it said it +was in your father's family." + +"I wish I had; it would be the most useful gift I could have +just now." + +"Would it? How's that? Maybe you knew I'd come because you +wanted me." + +"Wanted you! Doctor, don't you feel unduly flattered! But +there's no one in the world I wanted half so much as you." + +"Is that so? Then it's queer, because I just happen to be +wanting you nearly as much. But before we fall to talking come +to the light, and let me see your face. There's something there +which puzzles me, which I've never seen on it before; it's sure +I am it wasn't there the other day." + +Taking her by the arm he would have led her to the window, but +she placed her hand against his chest and stopped him. + +"No, no, doctor, you mustn't take me to the light, and you +mustn't look at my face either. I'd rather you turned right +round and look at the wall. There's quite a pretty paper on the +wall, and some drawings of mine which you'll find deserve your +very closest attention. I just want to talk to you, and I want +you to talk to me, and answer some questions which I'm going to +ask--and that's all." + +"And that's all? I see. And I'm not to look at your face? Good. +It's prettier than the paper, and far more deserving of +attention than the drawings, but far be it from me to quiz a +lady when she'd rather I didn't. Yet before you start the +talking--perhaps when you've started you'll be slow to +finish--let me say a word. You remember what you told me about +that visit you paid to Cuthbert Grahame--that last visit when +they wouldn't let you in?" + +"It's exactly about that I wish to speak to you." + +"Then that's queerer still, because it's about that I've come to +talk. You told me that it was Nannie Foreshaw who refused you +admission, and that she poured some water on you; and I told you +that I didn't see how she could have very well done that, since, +at that very time, she was lying, with her leg broken, in bed. +When I left I wrote and asked her what she had to say. I've had +an answer from her, and here it is." He took an envelope from +his pocket, and from the envelope a letter, speaking all the +time. "You'll bear in mind that Nannie's not so young as she +was, and that, of late, things have fared ill with her, as they +have a trick of doing when one grows old. She's had a broken +leg, and that's no trifle when the marrow's getting dry in the +bone; and her master--whom she'd had in her arms even before +he'd lain in his mother's--had come to his death in a way that +wasn't so plain as it might have been. She's never quite got the +better of that broken leg; she walks with a stick, and she'll +never walk without one; and she'll never be rid of the thought +that, when Cuthbert Grahame died, though she was only just +above, she couldn't get down to him, or shut his eyes, or see +him before he was put in his coffin, or stand by his grave when +he was buried. That thought troubles her more than the other. +Between the one and the other, and the stress of advancing +years, she's not so good a penwoman as she used to be. And so it +comes about that this letter which I have here was not written +by her own hand, though I have no doubt that they're just her +own words which are set down in it." + +Unfolding the sheet of paper he proceeded to read aloud. + +"'Dear Mr. David'--she's called me that these forty years, and +before that it was Master David, and it doesn't seem as if she +could break herself of the habit, though, mind you, I'm an M.D. +of Edinburgh University, and legally entitled to the prefix +'Doctor,' which is more than can be said for a good many that's +called it. 'It's beyond my thinking'--it's very colloquially +written is this letter, which makes me the more sure that it's +just her words which are set down in it--'It's beyond my +thinking how you could have supposed that I could ever have +turned my darling away from the door?--I never supposed anything +of the kind, but that's by the way--'and refuse to let her in? +My dear Miss Margaret! Mr. David, if I were dying I'd open the +door if I knew that she was there--ay, I believe I would climb +out of my grave to do it.' You observe what exaggerated language +the woman uses? That's her all over. 'And to think that it +should have been her on the day of which you speak--that awful +day! I'll never forgive myself now that I know it.' That's her +again. 'And, Mr. David, I'll find it hard to forgive you +either.' That's the woman to a T--logical. 'If you'd never +brought the creature to the house none of it would ever have +happened, and my darling would never have been denied the door. +And hot water thrown on her sweet head! How slow is the judgment +of God!' Observe how she flies off at a tangent. 'Now I'll tell +you the whole story. That day as I was lying in my bed, where +she had laid me, I heard a great clatter in the house. When, +after it was over, she came up to see me, I asked her what it +was about. She said that a strange man had come begging to the +house, and had tried to force himself into it, but that she had +had to imitate my voice, to make him think it was me that was +talking to him, before he would go. The insolence of her, that +she should try to imitate her betters, and tell me of it to my +face. And now it seems that it was no strange man at all, but +just my darling who had come begging to be let into her own +home. That wicked woman! Tell my sweet, when you see her, Mr. +David, just how it was. And tell her if I had known it was she I +would have crawled down, if it had been on my hands and knees, +to undo the door, and bid her welcome. And say to her that +there's none dearer to me in all the world than she is, and well +she ought to know it. There is one prayer I offer constantly, +that I may be spared to see her sweet face again, and hold her +in my arms, and listen to her dear, soft voice. There is much +more that I would say, but it cannot be written; it is only for +her and for me.' Then the old woman goes off rambling; there is +more, but nothing to the point. Here is her letter; you may read +it for yourself if you like; there are tender messages by the +yard. You'll see that that is not the epistle of a woman who +would drive you from her door." + +"But I don't understand. Who does she mean imitated her voice?" + +"The woman who called herself Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame." + +"Who called herself Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame? I've heard something +about some woman, but nothing that was at all plain. Tell me who +she was, and how she came to call herself by his name." + +The doctor told, as succinctly as he could, the story of the +woman he had picked up by the wayside; how, though he had found +her helpless, she had proved herself to be more than a match for +them all. Margaret listened with eyes which grew wider and wider +open. When he had finished she broke into exclamation. + +"Then Nannie is right; it was through you that it all happened." + +He resorted to his favourite trick--he stroked his bristly chin, +as if the action assisted him in the search for an appropriate +answer. + +"In a measure, young lady--in a measure. My original intention +was to perform an act of mercy. You would not have had me leave +the creature there in the night to perish. The whole business is +but an illustration of the truth of how great events from little +causes spring." + +"To give her assistance, shelter--that was right enough; but, +according to your own statement, you were responsible for that +mockery of marriage." + +The rubbing of the bristles went on with redoubled energy. + +"I might say something on that point, but I'll not; I'll just +admit I'm guilty. And I'll do it the more willingly because +there hasn't been a day on which I haven't told myself that if +there's a creature on God's earth that needed well and regular +hiding that creature's me, because of what I did that night. I +did a great wrong, a great folly, and a great sin. Margaret, +though I am old and you are young, I am ready, if you wish +it--and you'll be right to wish it--to humble myself in the dust +at your feet. My only consolation is that in His infinite mercy, +ultimately, there may be forgiveness even for me." He paused, +then added, with in his voice and manner a suggestion of utter +self-abasement which was in itself pathetic, "And the worst I've +still to add". + +"The worst?" + +She shrank from him, with what seemed to be a gesture of +involuntary and almost unconscious repulsion. + +"Ay, the very worst. Only don't draw yourself from me like that, +lassie--for the love of Christ; for I'm but a poor old man +that's sinned, and that's very near his end, and that would do +all he can to repair his sin before death has him by the +throat." + +"I--I didn't mean to be unkind, but--what were you going to +say?" + +"One thing's about his money--Cuthbert Grahame's money. Several +times he spoke to me about you--more than kindly. I believe he +had it in his mind--as I had, and have it, in mine--to repair +the wrong he'd done you. I have reason to think that it was his +intention to leave you at least a large portion of his fortune, +to re-make the will I had helped him break. I believe that, with +one of his cranky notions to be revenged on her for the part +she'd played, he communicated his intention to her; that he went +so far as to instruct her to draw up such a form of will as he +required. My own impression is that she either actually did do +this, or pretended to, and that, when the time came for him to +affix his signature, she performed some feat of jugglery, which, +under the circumstances, was easy enough, and so got him to sign +a document which expressed the exact opposite of his wishes." + +"Do you mean that he thought he was leaving me his money when +actually he was leaving it to her?" + +"That's about the truth of it--I believe it strongly. I am +persuaded that the will she produced she got from him by means +of a trick. But that is not the worst." + +"Doctor, you're--you're like the old fable, you pile Pelion on +Ossa." + +"I believe that when she had got the will into her possession, +all signed and witnessed, she was confronted by the fact that +exposure of its contents might render it invalid at any moment. +That is probably what would have happened, and in a very short +time, so that to make sure, she killed him then and there." + +"Killed him!" + +"I am convinced that Cuthbert Grahame was killed by the woman +who called herself his wife, and that within ten minutes of the +signing of his will. She propped him up with pillows, then, by +suddenly withdrawing those which supported his head, she let it +hang down, and so choked him. In order to avoid suffocation it +was always necessary to keep his head well raised, a fact with +which no doubt she had made herself acquainted." + +"Doctor! But was there no inquest?" + +"Certainly; and I gave evidence. But what could I say? I had no +proof--not an iota. I could only express my conviction that it +was impossible for him to have moved the pillows himself; and I +did. I doubt if that bare statement had any effect upon the +verdict. She was a very clever woman." + +"Clever! you call her!--clever! If you are right she was an +awful woman--you mustn't call her clever. That sort of thing's +not cleverness." + +"Isn't it? I don't know what it is then. If we had realised her +cleverness from the first we might have been prepared for her; +she might have met her match. It is only by fully recognising +the fact that we have to deal with an uncommonly clever woman +that we shall have the slightest chance of getting the better of +her, and bringing her to book." + +"Bringing her to book! Doctor! where is she? Is she at Pitmuir?" + +"That's not the least strange part of the whole strange +business--where she is. I've been wondering if it's a sign that +God's finger has been slowly moving to set on her His brand. The +young gentleman in whom, I presume, you take a certain amount of +interest, since, one day, you design to honour him by allowing +him to make of you his wife--Mr. Harry Talfourd--told me that he +acts as secretary to a lady." + +"I know." + +"The lady's name is Lamb--Mrs. Gregory Lamb." + +"Yes." + +Margaret, as she uttered the word, was conscious of a catching +in her breath; she herself did not know why. + +"Mrs. Gregory Lamb is the woman I found by the roadside; who +told me that her name was Isabel Burney; who called herself Mrs. +Cuthbert Grahame; who juggled into existence the will under +which she inherits; who murdered the man out of whom she got it +by a trick." + +Margaret was silent, curiously silent. Then she drew a long +breath, and she said-- + +"Now I understand". + +The doctor was struck by something in her intonation which was +odd. + +"Just what is it you understand?" + +She repeated her own words. + +"Now I understand. The veil which seemed to obscure my sight is +being torn away; things are getting plainer and plainer. She was +not mad, as we thought; it was we who were ignorant. Doctor, I +believe that the finger of God, of which you spoke just now, has +moved already." + +"It is likely. It is some time since I looked for it to move, +but He chooses His own time. As for what you say about your +understanding, to me your words are cryptic--unriddle them, +young lady, if you please." + +Margaret, in her turn, told her tale: of her visit to Mrs. +Gregory Lamb; of its abrupt and singular termination. The doctor +listened with every sign of the liveliest interest. + +"As you observe," he cried, when she had done, "it would seem +that the finger of God has moved already. She knew you although +you did not know her, and the sight of you was as though one had +risen from the grave; it filled her with unescapable terror." + +"It's difficult to explain--I've not been able to explain it to +myself until this minute--but I did know her, that is, I felt as +if I ought to know her. Directly Harry pointed her out to me, +something struck at my heart and set me trembling. I don't +often tremble, but I did then. It was as if I were confronted by +some dreadful danger, which had threatened me before, and from +which I had then only escaped by the skin of my teeth. And +yet I don't know that the feeling which affected me most +strongly was terror. No, I don't think it was. It was something +else--something which I can't describe. I believe--doctor, I +believe it was hatred. I hated that woman with a hatred which +was altogether beyond anything of which I had dreamed as +possible, of which I had supposed myself to be capable. I don't +hate people as a rule; I don't remember ever having met any one +whom I seriously disliked. I do think that in almost every one I +have come across I have seen something which I liked. But--in +her! I didn't want Harry to introduce me, to take me nearer, +because I was filled with what seemed even to me an insane, +indeed a demoniacal desire to kill her where she stood." + +While the girl was speaking her appearance seemed to gradually +change, till, when she stopped, she seemed to stand before the +old man like some rhadamanthine, accusatory spirit, ready to +pronounce judgment and to execute the judgment which she herself +pronounced. The doctor watched her with a visage which remained +immobile, almost expressionless. + +"Your words suggest a kind of justice which has become +extinct--in politer circles." + +"Yet justice shall be done!--it shall be done! I will see to it. +I never did her a harm, nor wished her one. Yet she has done me +all the mischief that she could, for wickedness' sake. If she +killed Cuthbert Grahame, she should have killed me also, for, if +I live, I will bring her to the judgment-seat. You say she is in +enjoyment of the money which she won from him by a trick, and +whose safe possession she insured to herself by murder----" + +"Pardon me; to her that's the fly in the ointment. It's +precisely the money which she hasn't got--which is doubly hard, +since, to gain it, she did all that she did." + +"I thought you said that she had it." + +"She has the will under which she inherits, but, so far, she has +inherited comparatively little. Did Grahame ever talk to you +about his money?" + +"In those latter days, when I began to be a woman, there were +only two things about which he would talk, one was his money, +the other his desire that I should be his wife. I loved him +dearly! No daughter ever loved her father better than I loved +him, but not like that!--not like that! When I said no, he would +talk of his money, holding it out as a bait." + +"Did he ever tell you how much of it there was?" + +"He was always saying all sorts of things; I cannot remember all +he said. I know he told me again and again that he had been +saving his money for years for my sake, for me to use when I +became his wife--his wife! He said more than once that there +were fifty thousand pounds a year waiting for me if--if I would +only say the word." + +"Fifty thousand pounds a year? A nice little bait with which to +cover the hook. Some girls would have swallowed the bait and +never minded the hook." + +"Doctor!" + +"Calm yourself, young lady; don't blast me with the lightning of +your eyes. I'm but saying what's well known to all the world. +And did he say where that snug little income came from?" + +"From his investments. He was always boasting of the lucky +investments he had made." + +"Did he ever tell you in what?" + +"He wanted to often, but I wouldn't listen. I daresay he did +mention some of the names, but I paid no attention and have +forgotten them if he did. I hated to hear of his money. I knew +what it meant to him, and I couldn't get him to understand that +it didn't--and never would!--mean the same to me. His talk about +his money helped to poison my life." + +"One knows that to a young girl money has a way of not meaning +so much as to some of us older folk, so I humbly ask your pardon +if I seem to dwell on it too long. Yet I would ask you to cast +back in your mind and think if he ever dropped a hint as to +where the securities, the documents which represented these +investments, might be found?" + +"Weren't they at the bank? or with his lawyers?" + +"They were not. Cannot you recall a hint which he may at +sometime have let fall as to their whereabouts?" + +She put her hands up to her temples, either to ease her +throbbing temples or to aid her memory in its task of looking +back. + +"I can't think! I can't think!--not now! There are so many +things of which I have to think, that they seem to have left me +no power to think of anything else. Some day something which he +once said may come back; I haven't forgotten much he did say to +me; it's all somewhere in my brain, only I can't tell you just +where--not at this very moment. At this moment I can only think +of her." + +"Of whom?" + +The voice which made the inquiry was Harry Talfourd's. He stood +in the open doorway with his hat in his hand. Perceiving that +his appearance seemed to have taken them by surprise he +proceeded to explain. + +"I did knock--twice; but I presume that you were so much +engrossed by what you were saying to each other that my modest +raps went unheeded. I heard you say, Meg, in tragic, not to say +melodramatic tones, that you can only think of her. Shall I be +impertinent if I venture to ask who is the lucky person who so +fully occupies your thoughts?" + +"The lucky person, as you call her, is Mrs. Gregory Lamb. Harry, +they say that in England the duelling days are over. They may +be--that is, so far as so-called 'affairs of honour' are +concerned--but for duels of another sort the day is never over. +I am going to engage in a duel with Mrs. Gregory Lamb. You and +Dr. Twelves here will be my seconds. I shall need all the +assistance that seconds may honourably give to their principal, +for it will be a duel to the death." + + + + + CHAPTER XXIV + + THE INTERIOR + + +Rather a curious state of things prevailed in Mrs. Lamb's +residence in Connaught Square. The largest and best regulated +establishments are apt to be disorganised when festival has been +kept the night before--that is true enough. But in this case the +disorganisation was something altogether out of the common. Mr. +Lamb, who never attended his wife's receptions, and so pleased +himself and the lady, had come home with the milk, just sober +enough to wonder why the place was in such a state of singular +confusion. The servants seemed to be occupying the reception +rooms, enjoying themselves in a fashion in which servants are +not supposed to do. He had a vague recollection of having a +drink with a footman or some such menial while endeavouring to +ascertain what was the meaning of the proceedings, and of +pledging a housemaid's health in what he was convinced was a +glass of his wife's champagne. But as, later, he was only too +glad to be assisted upstairs by any one and every one, his +memory of what took place was scarcely to be relied upon. + +His wife had shut herself in her room, constraining her guests +to take their departure without affording them an opportunity of +saying good-bye to their hostess, and offering her their thanks +for a very pleasant evening. Exactly what occurred behind that +locked door she alone knew. When her senses returned she was +still in her splendour of the previous night. She half lay, half +sat, upon her boudoir floor, with her head upon a couch. A +broken wine-glass was at her side. A decanter which had held +ether was overturned on a buhl table. The day streamed through +the windows. + +It was some seconds before she recognised these facts. Then she +rose to her feet and looked about her. The first thing she did +was to go to the boudoir door and try if it was locked. When she +found that it was, and that the key was nicely adjusted in the +keyhole, so as to prevent any one peeping in from without, she +strode through another door, which stood ajar, into her bedroom, +which adjoined. She tried the outer door of that, to find that +it also was locked. She glanced at a silver clock which stood +upon the mantelpiece. According to it the time was twenty +minutes to one, so that more than half of the day had already +gone. Then she went to a cheval glass, which mirrored her from +head to foot, and glanced at herself. + +What she saw seemed to afford her a grim sort of amusement. Her +hair was all in disorder, one long tress trailed down her neck. +Her eyes were dull and heavy. Her cheeks were smeared; such +"aids to beauty" as she patronised had become misplaced. Her +gown was all creased and crumpled; a stain straggled right +across the bodice. In a few curt words she recognised the +situation so far as the dress was concerned. + +"That's done for." + +It looked as if it were, it might have been worn twenty times +instead of only once. She removed her jewels--her bracelets from +her wrists, rings from her fingers, her necklace, ornaments from +her hair. When they were all off she took them in her hands and +stared at them. + +"At any rate, you're worth money. I daresay I could get +something on you if I tried, though perhaps not so much as some +might think." + +She tossed them on to the dressing-table with a mirthless laugh. +Disrobing herself, donning her nightdress, she ensconced herself +between the sheets. There she tossed and tumbled about in such a +fashion that one was almost disposed to suspect her of indulging +in some new form of physical exercise. When she had got the bed +into a condition which suggested that it had been occupied +throughout the entire night by some peculiarly restless person, +ceasing to turn and twist, for some minutes she lay quite still, +as if she listened. + +"Those servants of mine don't seem to be making much noise; +there aren't many sounds of their moving about the house. I +should like to know where Stephanie is; she ought to have woke +me long before this." + +Stretching out her arm she pressed the electric button which was +by her bedside--once, twice, thrice, indeed half-a-dozen times, +on each occasion for an unusual length of time, and with a fair +interval between each pressure. Nothing, however, transpired to +show that she had rung at all, certainly no one answered her +summons. As she began to realise that apparently she was not +meeting with attention of any sort or kind, her temper did not +improve. She kept up a continuous ringing; still no one +answered, nor was there aught to show that there was any that +heard. She began to be concerned. + +"Has every one taken French leave, and am I alone in the house? +What's it mean?" + +She kept her finger on the button for another good five minutes, +then she decided that the moment had arrived when it would +probably be desirable that she should make some inquiries on her +own account. Rising, she put on some clothes, over them a +dressing-gown. Then, unlocking the bedroom door, she went out on +to the landing. Nothing could be heard. She descended to the +floor below, on which were the drawing-rooms. No attempt to tidy +them had been made since the guests departed; they were in a +state of almost picturesque confusion. Not even the electric +lights had been turned off; they were blazing away as merrily as +if it were still the middle of the night. The apartments +contained certain articles which, as refreshments were provided +in the dining-room, could scarcely have been there when the +guests retired. Bottles and glasses were everywhere--all kinds +of bottles and all kinds of glasses, indeed Mrs. Lamb had nearly +stumbled over what looked like an empty brandy bottle as she +came out of her bedroom door. To Mrs. Lamb the sight of those +various empty receptacles was pregnant with meaning. + +"The beauties! I suppose they're sleeping it off. They shall +smart for this, every one of them." + +She turned towards the staircase which led to the servants' +quarters, with the intention, no doubt, of making them smart, +when she encountered one of them. An unkempt, untidy figure, +clad in a nondescript costume, consisting of checked tweed +trousers, carpet slippers, dress-coat and waistcoat, crumpled +shirt and collar and no necktie, came strolling leisurely down +the stairs as Mrs. Lamb was about to ascend them. It was James +Cottrell, the butler, in general, so far as appearances went, +the most immaculate of beings. His mistress stared at him in not +unnatural surprise. + +"Cottrell!--you!--in that state!--at this time of day!--why, +you're not even dressed." + +So far from showing any signs of being ashamed or disconcerted, +Mr. Cottrell's manner was not only self-possessed, it was +affability itself. Thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets, +he tilted himself on his heels, till his legs touched the stair +behind, and he smiled. + +"No, Mrs. Lamb, I am not dressed--that is, my costume is not in +that perfect state of completeness which I prefer. It is not my +habit to make personal remarks, but since we are on the subject, +I may observe that you're not dressed either. I shouldn't call +that dressing-gown full dress--would you? Your hair don't +look--to me--as if it had been done for days, and you really +must excuse my mentioning that your complexion seems to have got +itself all mixed up anyhow." + +"Cottrell, you're drunk; how dare you speak to me like that?" + +"No, Mrs. Lamb, I am not drunk; I do assure you that I am at +least as sober as you are. If you want to know what drink can do +for a man, I recommend you to go and look at your husband--there +is a drunkard, if you like; he's like a perambulating sponge. +Last night it took six of us to get him upstairs; that man ought +to be black-listed. As for daring to speak to you, Mrs. Lamb, +there may be some folks whom you inspire with awe, but you don't +inspire me with any." + +"Don't you think I'll let you speak to me like that, although +you are a man and I'm a woman. You'll leave my service at +once--and without a character." + +"As for a character, any character which you might give me, Mrs. +Lamb, would, in all human probability, do me more harm than +good. It will be my constant endeavour to conceal the fact that +I ever occupied a position in your establishment; it might do me +a serious injury were it to become known. As to leaving your +service, I shall be only too glad to do so inside sixty seconds; +only there's a little formality which I should like to have +completed before I go. I should like to have my overdue wages, +Mrs. Lamb. They are more than three months overdue, and I should +like to see the colour of my money, Mrs. Lamb." + +"You shall have your wages; you needn't be afraid." + +"Thank you; that is good news. Because, to be quite frank, I was +beginning to be afraid--in fact, we all were." + +"You impertinent brute! Where are those other creatures?" + +"Other creatures? You refer to my colleagues, male and female? +We are all of us creatures, Mrs. Lamb--including you. I believe +that two or three of them have already quitted your service, +including the young Frenchwoman who was supposed to be your own +particular maid. She said that she never bargained to wait on a +woman of your class, so she's gone. I noticed two young women in +the kitchen when I was down there just now. They seemed to be in +a more or less tearful condition. Poor wretches! perhaps they +never expected to find themselves in such a place as this. As +for the rest of my colleagues, I fancy they are still in bed. I +do not doubt that if you take them their overdue wages they'll +get up, and get out of the house also, as quickly as you like. I +imagine they'll be only too glad of the chance." + +Mrs. Lamb looked at Mr. Cottrell as if she were meditating +measures of a distinctly active kind. Although he might not have +been conscious of it, for some seconds he stood in imminent +peril of realising that, at least physically, his mistress was +more than a match for the average man. But, apparently, after +thinking things over she changed her mind and postponed +hostilities. + +"You shall be paid for this, my man--they all shall--just wait a +bit." She moved, as if to return to her bedroom, then paused. +"There's some one at the door." + +There did seem to be some one at the front door, some one who +saluted with equal vigour both the bell and the knocker. Mr. +Cottrell was philosophical. + +"Ah! there's been one or two already this morning. You've +perhaps been in such a queer state yourself that you didn't hear +them, though they made noise enough; but there have been several +visitors. Jones the fishmonger wants his little account, and +Franks the butcher wants his, and Murphy the greengrocer, and +the baker, and the grocer, and the milkman, and, I think, the +laundry, and three or four more besides. They all want their +little accounts--good big ones some of them are. I peeped +through the dining-room window, but I didn't notice just who was +there, and I didn't open to them either. I've had about enough +of opening to those kind of people; they won't go round to the +side entrance, and it's no use asking them to. But that sounds +as if it was the landlord come to put the brokers in for rent. A +landlord always thinks himself entitled to make as much noise as +he likes at his own front door." + +Some one seemed to consider himself at liberty to make as much +clatter as he liked. + +"Cottrell, go down at once and see who is at the door." + +"Wouldn't you like to go and see yourself, Mrs. Lamb?" + +"If you don't obey my orders and go at once I'll throw you out +of the house with my own hands, and you shall whistle for your +wages." + +"Like this? Do I look as if I were in a fit state of attire to +open the door of even such a lady as yourself, Mrs. Lamb?" + +"Are you going?" + +The lady mounted two or three steps; there was something so +significant in her manner that Mr. Cottrell temporised. + +"I shall be only too happy to open the door as I am!--if you +will allow me to pass." She allowed him, and he passed, firing a +passing shot as he went. "You must understand that I intend to +be perfectly frank with whoever's there--perfectly frank, and +truthful. I have had more than sufficient of telling lies on +your account, Mrs. Lamb." At this point, throwing the hall-door +wide open, he addressed some unseen individuals who were without +in tones which were perhaps unnecessarily loud. "If any of you +people want money--and by the look of you I can see you do--it's +no use your asking me, and so I may tell you at once, because I +want money too, and from the same person, and that's Mrs. Lamb; +and as Mrs. Lamb happens to be standing at this moment at the +top of the staircase, in her dressing-gown and with her hair all +over the place, perhaps you'll step in right away, and just say +to her what you've got to say. Well, sir, and what might you +happen to be wanting? Oh, it's Mr. Luker, is it? May I ask, sir, +what you mean by pushing me about as if I was a mechanical toy?" + +It was indeed Mr. Isaac Luker, who had come into the hall with +complete disregard of the fact that Mr. Cottrell was standing in +the doorway. Being in, the visitor regarded the voluble butler +with characteristic impassivity. Then, stretching out the +forefinger of his right hand, he tapped at the centre of Mr. +Cottrell's crumpled shirt-front, and he delivered himself +thus:-- + +"My advice to you is to put your head under the pump if there is +one, and under the tap if there isn't, and let the water run for +a good half-hour, for a complaint like yours it's the best +medicine you can possibly have". + +It seemed that Mr. Cottrell was so taken aback by the proffer of +this very handsome advice that for a moment or two he was at a +loss for a retort; before he found one his mistress had +interposed. + +"Luker, come up here!" + +Mr. Luker looked at the lady at the head of the staircase, at +Mr. Cottrell, at the invisible persons who still remained +without. He seemed to hesitate, as if in doubt whether or not to +take a hand in the game just where he was; then, arriving at a +sudden resolution, he did as the lady requested: he went +upstairs, followed by the retort which Mr. Cottrell had found at +last. + +"Perhaps if you were to try a little of that medicine you +recommend on your own account it mightn't do you any harm." + +The observation went unheeded. Mr. Luker was captured by the +lady the moment he reached the topmost stair. She pointed to the +flight in front. + +"Up you go!" Up he went, with her at his heels. On the next +landing she called his attention to the open bedroom door. "In +you go." Perceiving what the apartment was he favoured her with +what he perhaps meant for a whimsical glance, and in he went. +"Go straight through into the next room--that's my boudoir." He +went straight through, and she also. Closing the door of her +bedroom she stood with her back to it, putting to him a question +almost as if she were aiming a pistol at his head. "Have you +brought that money?" + +Mr. Luker did not at once give her the answer she so +imperatively demanded. Instead, holding his ancient top-hat in +front of him as if it were some precious possession, he ventured +on a remark of his own. + +"Things seem a little at sixes and sevens; they almost suggest +that domestic relations are a trifle strained. That man who +calls himself a butler is not behaving as if he were a butler; +and I regret to notice something about the establishment which +one hardly expects to find in a lady's high-class mansion." + +"Cottrell's going--at once. All the servants are going--lot of +drunken brutes! I'm only waiting for the money to pay them their +wages." + +"Oh, I see. And--those other persons on the doorstep, do they +want money also?" + +"I don't know who's there, and I don't care; but I daresay every +one wants money. I do! Did you hear me ask if you've brought +that money I told you to bring?" + +"To what money are you alluding?" + +"You know very well! None of your fooling! Have you brought that +ten thousand pounds?" + +"Ten thousand pounds!" He held up his hands, with his top-hat +between them. "Ten thousand pounds! She speaks of that great sum +as if it were a mere nothing!" + +"Have you brought it?" + +"I certainly have not." + +"Then what have you brought?" + +"I have brought--nothing." + +"Look here, Luker, I'm in an ugly temper. You ought to know the +signs of it as well as any man, so I advise you to take care. I +told you you were to bring me ten thousand pounds. When I said +it I meant it; why haven't you brought it?" + +"My dear Isabel----" + +"Haven't I told you not to call me that?" + +"Very well; it's a matter of utter indifference to me what I +call you--utter! I was merely about to remark that I have laid +your proposition before my friend, and, as I anticipated, he has +decided that he doesn't care to lend money except on adequate +security." + +"Adequate security! Don't you call a quarter of a million +adequate security?" + +"Certainly, if you had it, but you haven't. And you have nothing +tangible to show that you ever will have, or any part of it." + +"There are those Hardwood Company shares--ten thousand of them." + +"You tell me that you are in an ugly temper, and I can perceive +for myself that you are not so calm as I should wish, otherwise +I should ask for permission to be quite frank with you." + +"You had better be frank! Never you mind about my temper; it +won't be improved by your shuffling. Out with what you've got to +say!" + +"Remember, it will only be said at your express invitation." + +"Do you hear? Out with it!" + +"Then briefly and plainly it's this: If you were anybody else +it's possible that money--some money--might be got on your +expectation of the Hardwood Company's shares, but, as things +are, it's out of the question." + +"Why? What's the matter with my being me?" + +"A good deal, as you're as well aware as I am. In a matter of +this sort it's character which tells, and, unfortunately--I say +it with deep sorrow!--your character's against you." + +"What's my character got to do with a thing of this kind?" + +"Everything. Suppose my friend were to advance you money upon +your expectation of these shares, from your point of view you'd +have him between your finger and thumb, and you'd keep him +there." + +"How do you make that out?" + +"The process of extracting compensation from Messrs. McTavish & +Brown would be, at best, both a lengthy and a tiresome one, one, +moreover, in which not a step could be taken without your active +assistance. You'd find that out, and you'd say, 'If you won't +let me have so much more I won't move a finger, then you'll lose +all that you've advanced already'. And you'd mould your conduct +on those lines to the bitter end--my friend might find it a very +bitter end. That would not suit him at all." + +"You----! I've half a mind to kill you!" + +"Keep it at half a mind; many of my friends and clients have +found it wiser to stop right there." + +"Then do you mean to tell me that I can't get money out of any +one--anyhow?" + +"Not at all; money can always be obtained upon security. You +have personal property--the furniture of this house, jewels, and +so on." + +"What I might get out of that sort of thing would be gone before +I got it." + +"Then you might get money out of Messrs. McTavish & Brown." + +"You've told me over and over again that it would take no +end of a time to do that. I can't wait; I want money--a lot of +it!--now." + +"There's such a thing as compromise." + +"Compromise? What do you mean?" + +"If you insist on receiving the full amount of your demand, no +doubt Messrs. McTavish & Brown will keep you waiting as long as +they can--if you ever succeed in getting it at all. But, +supposing you agree to accept half----" + +"Or three-quarters." + +"Or three-quarters. The major sum might be mentioned first; but, +if time is of importance, I should advise you to allow yourself +to be persuaded to accept half, or even a trifle less, and to +give a full quittance for all claims, on condition, say, that +the amount agreed upon is paid within four-and-twenty hours." + +"They shall pay it!--I'll see to that! And then when I've got it +I'll go at 'em for the rest." + +"Ahem! I cannot allow myself to be associated with any such +scheme as that." + +"Can't you? We'll see! You stop where you are. I'll dress, and +then you shall go with me to Messrs. McTavish & Brown as my +legal adviser! and when I leave them I'll be richer than when I +started, or they'll be sorry!" Mrs. Lamb passed into her +bedroom, through the partially open door of which her voice +proceeded: "Don't you go meddling with any of the things in +there; I know exactly what there is, so don't you think I don't. +If I suspected you of taking so much as a paper-knife, I'd have +it out of you if I had to strip every rag of clothing off you to +get at it." + + + + + CHAPTER XXV + + ALARUMS AND EXCURSIONS + + +Messrs. McTavish & Brown, solicitors, of Southampton Row, +London, W.C., had a large, sound and lucrative family +connection. They numbered among their clients several people of +really excellent position, persons whose names ought to have +been in the _Doomsday Book_, and were in Burke's _Landed +Gentry_, and in various other places in which one would +desire one's name to be found. Among those names was that of +Dykes--Lady Julia Dykes, relict of Sir Eastman Dykes, third +baronet of Fennington Park, Essex. Sir Eastman had himself been +one of the firm's clients, one whom they had every reason to +value highly. His testamentary dispositions had been of such a +kind that the administration of his estate had practically been +left in the hands of Messrs. McTavish & Brown until the coming +of age of his eldest son. A handsome income had been left to his +well-beloved wife, together with the nominal guardianship of +everything which once was his; actually, however, she did +nothing of the slightest importance except with the cognisance +and approval of the gentlemen in Southampton Row. + +Lady Dykes was a lady of a certain age, and of almost more than +a certain presence. She was one of those persons who are +constitutionally prone to lean--metaphorically!--upon some one +or something, and she leaned upon Messrs. McTavish & Brown +rather more than they altogether cared for. She consulted them +not only every week, but sometimes on each day of the week; +often on matters which had no connection with the law, and had +nothing to do with them either. + +She had been known to ask their advice on the question of the +retention or dismissal of a cook. On one memorable occasion she +had actually written to them to learn if they thought that it +would be becoming for her to attend a drawing-room in a scarlet +satin gown. To make the matter worse, that letter was addressed +to Mr. McTavish in person. As it was a standing joke with Mr. +Brown, who allowed himself an indecorous latitude in matters of +real importance, that her ladyship had matrimonial designs upon +that well-seasoned bachelor, it was a painful moment to Mr. +McTavish when he learned that she requested his advice upon +what, to his thinking, was a matter of such singular delicacy. + +On the afternoon on which Mrs. Gregory Lamb set out with Mr. +Luker to visit Messrs. McTavish & Brown, Lady Dykes was paying +one of her very numerous visits to her solicitors. She was +closeted with both partners in Mr. McTavish's private room, the +senior partner having insisted on summoning the junior to take +part in the inevitable conference, he having an almost morbid +disinclination to be left alone with her. McTavish had an +uncomfortable feeling, however much he might try to hide the +fact from Brown, that her ladyship was disposed to show herself +much more friendly when he had no one to keep him in +countenance. Had they dared, both men would have made it a +general rule to put her off on to one of their managing clerks, +but they had learned from experience that though the soul of +generosity she was quick to take offence, and, therefore, if she +would talk nonsense, all they could do was to make her pay for +it--which they did. + +The time had arrived for her eldest hope, Eastman, to take up +his residence at the university. On the present occasion she had +called to renew, for the fiftieth time, the interminable +discussion as to what was the exact annual amount he was to be +allowed while there, and what exactly he was to do with it. + +"I am particularly anxious," she explained, as she had done over +and over and over again (some ladies think that the more they +repeat themselves the more emphatic they become--which is a +mistake), "that he should not waste his money, and worse than +waste his money, on what I cannot but consider, and every mother +would consider--every mother who cares for her child (and how +many mothers do!)--extremely undesirable connections. For +instance"--she started on a little story which her legal +advisers had heard from her lips more than a dozen times--"Mrs. +Adams was telling me only a few weeks ago that her second son, +Bernard, who is at Cambridge, at Caius College, or Trinity, or +Keble, or St. John's--it's one or the other--I'm not sure which, +though I know he's in some part of the building"--she always +spoke of a university as if it consisted of one large +building, though she must have known better--"has been +lavishing--positively lavishing!--articles of various kinds, +gifts, presents of every description, from bon-bons to gloves, +and from shoes to ribbons, and I don't know what else beside--it +seems he kept a list of them, I don't know why, and she found +it--it made me dizzy to hear her merely read it through, it was +that long!--upon, of all creatures in the world--it seems +inconceivable, for I've known the boy from a baby, and so did +Sir Eastman--but it was a young woman in a tobacconist's shop. +Picture what his mother's feelings were; picture what mine would +be if I made a similar discovery. If there is one rule to which +I have adhered through life it is to allow no one connected with +me to have anything to do with females of questionable +antecedents. And a tobacconist shop! Am I not right?" + +She looked directly at Mr. McTavish, who coughed, and answered-- + +"Certainly, Lady Dykes; quite right". + +Mr. Brown said nothing; he looked the more. + +"You yourselves, although of the opposite sex, know perfectly +well how necessary it is to have such a rule. You would not have +built up this great business were it not universally known that +you invariably refuse to accept as clients persons--especially +when they are of the feminine gender--who are not of the highest +respectability. I myself should not be here at the present +moment were I not assured that was the case--of course that you +understand. You would no more allow a woman of a certain class +to enter your private office, Mr. McTavish, than I should allow +a navvy to enter my drawing-room." + +It was perhaps a trifle unfortunate that Mrs. Gregory Lamb, +attended by Mr. Isaac Luker, should have chosen that particular +moment to introduce herself into the premises of Messrs. +McTavish & Brown. On the road Mr. Luker had endeavoured to +persuade the lady to leave the negotiations as much as possible +in his hands, a suggestion which she had repudiated with scorn. + +"If any one can play this sort of game better than I can, I've +never met them. All you have to do is to chime in when I tell +you. If I fail to jockey some coin out of them somehow, then it +will be time for you to try your hand." + +"I am not so sure of that. It occurs to me as at least possible +that if you fail it won't be worth any one's while to take a +hand." + +It was not in consonance with the lady's plan of campaign to +resort, throughout the entire proceedings, to any of the minor +civilities of life. For instance she deemed it neither necessary +nor advisable to announce her presence by knocking at the outer +door. She simply swung it right back on to its hinges, and +strode straight in, not with the lightest strides. In the outer +office it was customary for visitors to mention who it was they +wished to see, possibly, also, the nature of their business, and +then wait in patience till it was intimated to them that they +were at liberty to penetrate farther. No such formula was likely +to suit Mrs. Lamb, for one reason if for no other. She was well +aware that if the heads of the firm had their way nothing would +induce them to suffer her to enter their presence. Indeed so +soon as the clerks in the outer office recognised who it was, +one of them, starting up, prepared to rush to his principals to +warn them of her coming. But the lady was too quick for him. +While he was already half-way through the farther door, the +lady, catching him by the shoulder, swung him round in a fashion +which was a sufficient testimony to the fact that her arm still +retained at least a good deal of its pristine vigour. Before he +had a chance to recover she was in the apartment which was +reserved as a sanctum for the senior clerks, her appearance +causing a sensation among those respectable elderly gentlemen, +which was both ludicrous and surprising. The senior engrossing +clerk, Mr. Riseley, was the only one among them who retained +even a fragment of presence of mind. He endeavoured to interpose +his person between the lady and the approach to Mr. McTavish's +private sitting-room. + +"Mrs. Lamb, what is the meaning of this behaviour? Such conduct +is not to be endured; I must ask you to leave this room at +once!" + +"Get out of the way," was the only answer which Mrs. Lamb +vouchsafed. + +"I shall do nothing of the kind--certainly not; my duty to my +employers forbids it. You can see neither Mr. McTavish nor Mr. +Brown, they--they are both of them most particularly engaged." + +Mrs. Lamb condescended to waste no more words on him. He was +rather larger than the other clerk, so she used both arms, +darting them out in front of her as if they were battering-rams, +dashing her half-open palms against him with such force as to +drive him against a neighbouring table, overturning both it and +its proper occupant with a clatter on to the ground. Then she +went rushing into the senior partner's holy of holies as if she +had been some mad bull, crying "Come along, Luker," as she +rushed. + +Mr. Luker went along, not quite so demonstratively as she did, +still, considering his build and the difference in his methods, +he managed pretty well. Yet he did not move fast enough for his +energetic client. As he was coming through the door, seizing him +by the arm, she gave it a jerk which sent him whirling half +across the room and his hat flying into a corner. The instant +she was in she slammed the door behind her, snapped the lock, +and pocketed the key. + +As Lady Dykes had just been dwelling on her consciousness of the +fact that under no consideration whatever would Messrs. McTavish +& Brown allow doubtful female persons to set foot inside their +offices, it was rather an unfortunate moment for her to make her +entry. So both the partners decidedly seemed to think. As for +Lady Dykes, she started from her chair with as much agility as +her figure would permit, and stared at the intruder open-eyed. + +"Good gracious!" she exclaimed. "Who is this person? and what +does she want?" + +Mr. Brown, having his wits about him, made for the second door +(most lawyers have at least two entrances to their own +particular preserves), observing as he moved-- + +"Lady Dykes, might I ask you to----" + +He got no farther; Mrs. Lamb cut him short. Her wits were even +more on the alert than his. Perceiving, on the instant, his +objective, dashing after him, pushing him aside as if he were +some insignificant thing, she gained the second door, banged it +to, locked it, and pocketed that key also. Then, turning, she +confronted her victims with a laugh which did not by any means +ring pleasantly in their ears. + +"It seems as if I had arrived in the very nick of time. I +couldn't have bagged the pair of you more neatly if I'd had an +appointment with you--could I?" + +Lady Dykes, who was the most nervous of her sex, was trembling +almost as if she were a species of human jelly-fish. + +"Dear! dear!" she gasped. "Who is this person? and what does she +want? Make her open the door at once, and let me out! My footman +will be wondering what has become of me." + +Mrs. Lamb favoured her with an answer--of a kind. + +"I'll tell you who I am. I'm one of their clients! I'm one of +the helpless, ignorant women whom they've robbed and plundered, +but before all's finished they'll find that I'm not so helpless +and ignorant as they thought. And I'll tell you what I want: I +want back some of the money they've stolen, and before anybody +leaves this room I'll have it. I've stood their shuffling long +enough, but I won't stand it any longer, as I'm here to show +them." + +Mr. Brown, who still seemed to have most control over his +tongue, addressed himself to Mr. Luker. + +"Mr. Luker, I believe you are a fully admitted solicitor. As +such I call on you to notice that Mrs. Lamb's words are +actionable. And I request you, unless you wish to get yourself +and her into serious trouble, to insist on her opening the two +doors which she has improperly locked, and on her leaving these +premises at once. Surely it is not necessary for me to point out +that, otherwise, the consequences to both of you will be of the +gravest possible kind." + +Mrs. Lamb placed herself in front of the irate Mr. Brown. + +"Don't you waste your breath talking to Mr. Luker; he's not on +in this scene--not just at present, anyhow. If you've anything +to say, you say it to me; it's me you have to deal with, not +him." + +"Mrs. Lamb, I will have nothing to do with you of any sort or +kind; after the monstrous fashion in which you have behaved it +is the sheerest absurdity to suppose that we can have any +communication with you except through a properly accredited +representative." + +"So I've behaved in a monstrous fashion, have I? I'll teach you +to talk to me like that." + +She began the lesson then and there. Gripping him by both +shoulders she shook him as a terrier shakes a rat. He was a +slightly built man, not physically strong; had he been a rat he +could scarcely have seemed more helpless in her hands. When, +presumably, she was of opinion that the first lesson had lasted +long enough, she honoured him with a few remarks. + +"You take from me everything on which you can lay your claws; +you strip me of every shilling I possess; and then, when I ask +for some of it back, you insult me. You--dirty--thief!" Here +there was another bout of shaking. "There are men doing penal +servitude who aren't half such mean, sneaking scamps as you +are--and plenty of them." + +She flung him from her against the wall, leaving him to struggle +for breath as best he might. Lady Dykes, in an armchair, was +developing what promised to be a very fine attack of hysterics. +She was beginning to make as much noise as Mrs. Lamb herself. +Mr. McTavish, who, judging from his appearance, had been in +imminent peril of a stroke of apoplexy, seemed all at once to +regain his power of speech. + +"Upon my word, you're--you're--you're the most dangerous woman I +ever heard of!" + +"And you're the most dangerous thief! Perhaps before I've done +with you you'll find that thieving's almost as dangerous to +yourself as to those on whom you practise." + +There came a smart rapping on one of the doors, and a voice from +without. + +"Shall we send for a policeman, sir?" + +"By all means!--at once! Let him break down the door if he can't +get in any other way! This--this woman's--positively dangerous." + +"You're right there; I am--you've made me dangerous. And don't +you think that a policeman, or ten policemen, will keep me from +being even with you if I once get started; not all the policemen +in London couldn't do it!" + +Mr. Luker, seemingly under the impression that his client was +going a little too far, even for her, ventured on an +interposition. + +"Pardon me, Mrs. Lamb, but, if you will allow me to say so, I +think this matter can be settled on a perfectly peaceful basis. +If these gentlemen are disposed to be reasonable, and I feel +sure they are, everything can be arranged without unpleasantness +of any sort or kind. The point is----" + +Mrs. Lamb took the words out of his mouth, substituting, that +is, words of her own. + +"The point is, that, among other things, you've robbed me of ten +thousand Hardwood Company's shares." + +"It's an infamous falsehood! We've done nothing of the kind!" + +"Haven't you? I know you have, and so do you; but you're one of +those brazen-faced old sinners who would go to the gallows with +a lie on your lips. Those shares are worth fifty thousand +pounds, and more; but as you've robbed me of every penny I have +in the world, and left me with nothing but starvation staring me +in the face----" + +"It's--it's incredible how any one should dare to say such +things!--incredible!" + +"So there's nothing left for me but to try to come to terms with +the robbers, and that's what I have come for. If you'll give me +a cheque for forty thousand pounds--now!--this minute!--you may +keep the other ten, and much good may it do you. So just you +move yourself. Sit down at that table and write me a cheque for +forty thousand pounds." + +"Forty thousand pounds! Do you suppose----" + +"I suppose nothing. You do as I tell you, or you'll be sorry." + +Again Mr. Luker ventured on an interposition. + +"If, once more, you will excuse me, Mrs. Lamb, if you will +permit me I will point out to Mr. McTavish how much more than +moderate you are disposed to be in your demands. I have Mrs. +Lamb's permission to inform you, Mr. McTavish, that she is in +absolute want of ready cash; that she is practically in a state +of destitution; and that therefore she is willing to waive her +lawful claims to such an extent that she is prepared to accept +the sum of five-and-twenty thousand pounds; a fair proportion to +be paid at once, and the balance on a given date; and to give +you in exchange a discharge in full for all her claims against +you respecting the Hardwood Company's shares." + +Mrs. Lamb's manner, as she acquiesced in her solicitor's +modification of her terms, was not precisely gracious. + +"If I take twenty-five thousand pounds that will be going +halves. If I am to be robbed I suppose I may as well be properly +robbed; but I'll have at least ten thousand pounds in cash. So, +now, Mr. McTavish, without any more fuss, perhaps you'll let me +have a cheque for that ten thousand." + +"Ten thousand pounds! I'll not give you a cheque for tenpence." + +"You're two men, and I'm only a woman, but you'll find that I'm +much more than a match for the pair of you; and if you're not +careful I'll thrash you both till within an inch of your lives; +I'll leave marks on you which you'll carry to your graves. As +for you, you bloated old whisky barrel, I've only got to give +you one or two smart ones in the proper place, and you'll be in +your grave before you think. So if you want to keep on living, +you'll make no more bones about handing me that cheque." + +"This--this is worse than highway robbery! In my own office +you--you positively threaten----" + +"Threaten! I'll do more than threaten! Quick! Are you going to +fork up or am I to break every bone in your body?" + +"I--I--I will not be bullied----" + +"Bullied! I'll show you!" She snatched up a stout malacca cane +which stood by Mr. McTavish's table, and which was that +gentleman's property. "To start with, I'll splinter this over +your bodies, then I'll smash everything else in the place, and +you into the bargain. Now is it going to be the coin or----" + +The hand holding the stick went up into the air, the gesture +rounding off the sentence with sufficient significance. + +"You wicked woman! how dare you threaten me with my own stick? +Help! Where is that policeman?" + +"Policeman! Do you think I care for a policeman? Not that much!" + +Down came the stick with a swishing sound through the air. As it +descended Mr. Luker caught the lady by the wrist. + +"Mrs. Lamb, I do implore you to pause a moment for +consideration. I reiterate my conviction that if you will only +exercise a little patience this matter can be settled amicably +and without violence." + +"Luker, if you don't want to let yourself in for a little +handling on your own account you'll let go of my wrist." + +"On the contrary, Mr. Luker, I beg you will keep a tight +hold--the woman must be stark mad." + +"Mad!" With a sudden twist Mrs. Lamb wrenched herself loose from +Mr. Luker, and that same moment there was a smart rapping at the +door, and an authoritative voice was heard without. + +"I'm a police constable. What's going on in there? Open this +door at once." + +"Break it open, constable, break it open. I'm Mr. McTavish, and +I authorise you. We're--we're in actual danger of our lives." + +There must have been some one on the other side who knew how to +deal with a locked door, for in a surprisingly short space of +time it was open. A constable was revealed, supported by a +considerable body of clerks, of all ages, in the background. The +representative of law and order advanced into the room. + +"What's taking place in here?" + +"I'm Mr. McTavish, officer, the senior partner in this firm. +This--this woman has been endeavouring to extract money by means +of threats. I must request you to eject her from these premises +at once." + +"Do you charge her?" + +"Not at this moment, though, no doubt, later proceedings will be +taken which will bring home to her a sense of her misconduct. At +present all I want you to do is to turn her out." + +"And this woman also?" + +The allusion was to Lady Dykes. Mr. McTavish was shocked. + +"Dear me, no; that is Lady Dykes, of Fennington Park, one of our +most esteemed clients, who has already been subjected to the +most terrible annoyance. The man"--pointing to Mr. Luker--"you +will turn out with the woman." + +The constable touched Mr. Luker on the arm. + +"Now, sir, offer the lady a good example, and show her the way +out." + +Mr. Luker put his hat on, and, without a word, prepared to act +on the officer's advice. Mrs. Lamb caught him by the shoulder. + +"You cur! Don't be a fool, Luker, and do as he tells you." + +The constable smiled, good-humouredly. + +"If you're a wise man, sir, you will do as I tell you, and +you'll talk the matter over with the lady afterwards." + +Mr. Luker seemed to incline to the opinion that the policeman's +was the voice of wisdom. Withdrawing himself from the lady's +detaining fingers, still without a word, he left the room. The +constable addressed himself to Mrs. Lamb. + +"Now, madam, we policemen hate to have to be rude to a lady; +might I ask you to oblige me by following your friend's very +excellent example? That's the way out." + +He jerked his thumb towards the open door. Mrs. Lamb looked at +him and at the others. Apparently what she saw forced her to the +conclusion that what she called "the game" was "up". She brought +Mr. McTavish's malacca cane on to a writing-table with a +resounding thwack. + +"You couple of thieves! I'll wring your necks for you yet before +I've done!" + +She dashed the stick upon the floor and went, the clerks +treading on each others' toes in their anxiety to give her as +much room as she required. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVI + + SOLICITOR AND CLIENT + + +A pseudo-historical utterance was paraphrased by Mr. Luker when +the lady joined him in the street without. + +"It may have been magnificent, but it wasn't war." + +It is possible that Mrs. Lamb knew very little about the charge +at Balaclava. It is certain that she had never heard of the +phrase with which the critical French general has been credited. +And she was in a red-hot temper, so that in any case she was in +no mood to appreciate her legal adviser's recondite allusions. +The lady's own remark was idiomatic in the extreme. + +"Luker, I'd like to knock your head clean off your shoulders. If +it hadn't been for you I'd have got all the ready I wanted out +of that couple of cripples, or----" + +"Or you'd have been on your road to the lock-up. There's no 'or' +about it; if it hadn't been for me you would have been. My dear +Isabel----" + +"Don't call me----" + +"All right; I won't. If I were to call you all that I think you +ought to be called, you mightn't like it. I was merely about to +remark that your methods are too primitive. In London you can't +go into an office and get all the money you want out of a couple +of lawyers, old or young, with the aid of a stick. It can't be +done. If it could be done people would be doing it all day +long." + +"Can't I?" Mrs. Lamb's tone was grim. "You don't know me yet. +You wait till I get them to myself, either together or singly, +and I'll lay you the National Debt to sixpence that I don't +leave 'em till I've got what I want. I've my own methods, and +I've found them pay me very well up to now." + +"I don't doubt your capacity; when I think of where you were and +of where you are I've no reason to. But in dealing with people +like McTavish & Brown, with a strong case like yours, diplomacy +pays better than violence. If you'd left the conduct of the +affair to me I'd have at any rate exacted from them the promise +of a satisfactory sum in settlement of all claims. As it is, +where are you?" + +He held out his hand, palm uppermost, as if to show that there +was nothing in it. She walked by his side for some little +distance in silence; when she spoke her tone was still grim. + +"I'll tell you where I am--I'm with you. And I tell you what it +is--as I couldn't get any money out of them, I'm going to get it +out of you." + +"Are you? I don't see how." + +"Don't you? I do." + +"You can't get blood out of a stone." + +"No; because there's no blood in a stone. But I can get money +out of you, because you've plenty." + +"I wish I had." + +"Don't you worry; your wish was granted before it was uttered. +I'll show you where some of it is, if you like." + +In his turn Mr. Luker for a while was still. Then stopping, he +held out his hand. + +"I wish you good-afternoon, Mrs. Lamb." + +"You needn't; I'm coming with you." + +"I'm afraid I have an appointment which will prevent my enjoying +the pleasure of your company any longer." + +"Oh no, you haven't. Besides, it will make no difference if you +have--I'm coming with you." + +"You are coming with me? What do you mean?" + +"I mean that I'm going to accompany you to your private +residence, Mr. Luker. I want to have a quiet chat with you. I +can have it there better than anywhere else. We shall be snug, +and all by ourselves." + +He looked at her with his bleared, half-open eyes--he seemed +to be physically incapable of opening them to their full +extent--with an expression which some ladies would not have +considered flattering, nor were his words exactly complimentary. + +"I would as soon go home with a tigress as with you in your +present mood--indeed, of the two, I think I would prefer the +tigress. I have been in too many tight places to feel inclined +to walk, with my eyes open, into quite such a tight place as +that would be. Once more I have to inform you that I have an +appointment which will prevent my having the pleasure of your +company any farther, so I wish you good-afternoon." + +"And once more I tell you that I'm coming home with you." + +"Oh no, you're not." + +"Oh yes, I am." + +"I think you are mistaken." + +He beckoned to a policeman who happened to be standing by the +kerb at a little distance from where they were. + +"What do you want with him?" she demanded. + +"I am going to appeal to that officer for protection, and I +don't think you will find that I shall do so in vain. You will +compel people to summon the police--it is extremely unwise." + +The constable was sauntering towards them. Recognising, +apparently, that there was logic in what Mr. Luker said, +without waiting for the policeman to approach, also without +going through the empty formula of wishing the solicitor +good-afternoon, she marched off and left Mr. Luker alone. When she +had gone, perhaps, a hundred yards, she stopped and looked back. +Mr. Luker, who was still where she had left him, was seemingly +enjoying a little friendly converse with the constable. She +continued her progress for, possibly, another hundred yards, and +then again looked back. This time Mr. Luker had vanished. She +could distinguish the stalwart figure of the constable striding +along in solitary state in the distance. She signalled to a +hansom. "Stamford Street, Blackfriars Bridge end," was the +direction she gave the driver. When the vehicle had brought her +to the point she desired, descending, she dismissed it. She +stood for two or three minutes, scanning the passers-by, keenly +observing, so far as she was able, every one in sight. Then, +turning into Stamford Street, she presently turned again into a +street on her right. She was coming into a very shady +neighbourhood, in which one opined that women of her appearance +were very occasional visitants. She twisted and turned, however, +with the unerring rapidity of one who knew it uncommonly well, +until at last she found herself in what was rather an alley than +a street, and a cul-de-sac at that, for at the end was nothing +but a high blank wall. Here the tenements were not only +extremely small, apparently consisting of five or six rooms at +most, they were also of disreputable appearance. Pausing in +front of one she regarded it with an attentive eye. The fact +that the blinds were down gave it a deserted look. She knocked +once, twice--there was no bell. When no one answered she drew a +conclusion of her own. + +"He's not come yet; I'll wait." + +She did wait, for a good half-hour, with exemplary patience, in +spite of the fact that long before the period of waiting was at +an end she had become an object of much interest to a large +number of curious eyes. Just as the observers were beginning to +wonder how long she did intend to stop, the object of her +flattering quest came into sight, in the shape of the legal +gentleman from whom she had so lately parted--Mr. Isaac Luker. +Contrary to her hopes and expectations he was not alone; once +more her wily old friend had proved equal to the needs of the +occasion. On either side of him were men whose character, or, +rather, want of character, was written large all over them--two +more unmistakable ruffians one would have to go far to see. At +sight of her Mr. Luker came to a standstill. + +"I thought I should find you waiting for me here; your presence +is not at all unexpected. So, as in this neighbourhood the +police are not much protection, and I suspected that I might +stand in need of protection, I brought my two friends here with +me. They think little of putting a woman of your sort into the +river, as gentlemen of their profession generally do, so I'll +leave them to deal with you after the mode with which they are +most familiar." + +"Is this 'er?" inquired one of the friends, a beetle-browed +person, with an open gash running right down his filthy cheek. + +"That's her, my good friend. You talk to her, in any way you +please, while I go inside." + +As he produced his latch-key Mrs. Lamb moved towards him in a +forlorn-hope sort of spirit. + +"Let me come in! There's something which I must say to you." + +Without giving her a hint of his intention the beetle-browed +person struck her with his clenched fist on the shoulder in such +fashion that, had she not lurched against the wall, Mrs. Lamb +would have gone headlong to the ground. Mr. Luker stood to +comment on the action. + +"That's right, my friend; that's how she likes to talk to +others." + +He disappeared into the house; they heard him locking and +bolting the door. The beetle-browed person placed himself in +unpleasant proximity to Mrs. Lamb; his manner was, if possible, +even more eloquent than his words. + +"Now then, are you going to take yourself off, or have we got to +move you? Make up your mind, because our time's valuable." + +She made up her mind, there and then. Realising that she was +doomed to still another disappointment, she took herself off, +with Mr. Luker's two "friends" at her heels. When she was back +again into Stamford Street she stopped and spoke to them. + +"There are police here, as, if you try to follow me another +step, you'll find." + +"We don't want to follow you--not much! We only want to keep you +off the governor, that's all. You can go where you like, and you +can do what you like, but if you come near his crib again we'll +mark you." + +Hailing another hansom Mrs. Lamb left Mr. Luker's two "friends" +standing on the pavement. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVII + + PURE ETHER + + +At the house in Connaught Square Mrs. Lamb had to knock and ring +four times without, apparently, attracting the attention of any +one inside. She was meditating gaining admittance through the +area door, when a fifth assault upon the bell and knocker was +productive of a more definite result. After a good deal of what +seemed unnecessary fumbling with the handle, the door was opened +sufficiently wide to admit of Cottrell, the butler, being seen +within. He was attired in the same extremely undignified costume +in which he had greeted his mistress in the morning, which, +however, showed certain signs of what might be called +degeneration. The shirt-front was, if possible, more crumpled +than before; the collar was gone; the waistcoat had, in some +mysterious way, strayed out of the straight, so that while it +was on one side of his body the shirt was on the other; his hair +was rumpled; the whole man looked as if a plentiful application +of cold, clean water might do him a great deal of good. + +He held the door just wide enough open to enable him to display +his person and to see who was there, seeming to be not at all +abashed when he perceived that it was his mistress. + +"So it's you, is it! So you've come at last; it's about time; +we thought you never were coming. I hope you've brought some +money--everybody hopes so. It's no good your coming into this +house if you haven't--not the least." + +Mrs. Lamb was in a bad temper, which, perhaps, on the whole was +not surprising. She had been in a bad temper when she had +started to visit Messrs. McTavish & Brown. The incidents which +had marked the afternoon had not tended to sweeten it. On the +contrary, for quite a time she had been looking for somebody on +whom, to use an expressive euphemism, she might "let herself +go". Had Mr. Cottrell been aware of the lady's state of mind, +even in his then peculiar condition, he might have realised that +there are occasions on which discretion is the better part of +valour. He would certainly hardly have afforded her not only so +excellent an opportunity of giving expression to her feelings, +but also so capital an occasion of making her quarrel just. She +looked at Mr. Cottrell with something in her eyes which should +in itself have been sufficient to serve as a warning; there was +still time for him to perform a strategic retreat. Without a +word she went quickly up the steps, flung the door wide open, +seized him by the shoulders, and sent him spinning into the +street. He sat, for some moments, on the kerb, as if overcome. +Then, exceeding rash, he retraced his way up the steps as best +he could, with the apparent intention of inquiring why he had +been handled in such unceremonious fashion. Before, however, he +had gained the actual summit, he went flying backwards, with the +lady's assistance, in such summary fashion that it was only the +back of his head being brought into contact with the pavement +that stopped him. + +When he understood, dimly, what had happened, he began to raise +an agreeable hullabaloo, mingling imprecations on all and +sundry, with curses on the lady in particular, and cries of help +to the public and the police. Mrs. Lamb, for the third time that +day, was brought into contact with a constable. A policeman +appearing round the corner, perceiving Mr. Cottrell +gesticulating on the pavement, came sauntering up to learn what +was wrong. The butler explained. + +"I give her into custody, that's what I do!--tried to murder me, +that's what she's done!--broken my brains out!--assault and +battery, that's what it is; and that's what I charge her with, +policeman. You put the handcuffs on her, and take her to the +station, and I'll come round and give all the evidence that's +wanted." + +The officer was calmer than Mr. Cottrell. He heard the butler to +an end, then he glanced at his mistress. + +"What's wrong?" + +She explained. + +"That man's my butler, although you would not think it to look +at him. He has taken advantage of my absence to get into that +condition. He kept me waiting for more than twenty minutes on +the doorstep, and then when he opened he was not only drunk but +insolent. I have dismissed him from my service, and put him into +the street, and out in the street he stops. I should be obliged +by your moving him away, and preventing his making a disturbance +in front of the house." + +The policeman, who was young, leaped to the conclusion that +right was on the side of the lady. He was disposed to give the +butler but a short shrift. + +"Now, then, move on! Away you go! We don't want any of your +nonsense here!" + +Mr. Cottrell vehemently objected. + +"Don't talk to me like that, policeman! She owes me three +months' wages; there's another nearly due, and another instead +of notice. You let her pay me five months' wages before she +talks of putting me out into the street." + +The policeman looked up at the lady. + +"Is what he says true?" + +"It's an entire falsehood. Any claim he may have to make must be +made in the proper quarter." + +She threw the door wide open. By now other members of the +household had, unwisely enough, come up to see what the +discussion was about. Her action revealed them. + +"You see, officer, here are some more of my servants. They, +also, have taken advantage of my absence, and are like that +man--drunk. I dismiss them all--now. Perhaps you won't mind +coming in and seeing their boxes packed; I suspect them of +having property of mine in their possession." + +The policeman went in--Mr. Cottrell went in also, with his +assistance; he saw their boxes packed. It was a process in which +the packers fared badly, the butler in particular. Each servant +in the house, almost without exception, was shown to be in +possession of property which was indisputably Mrs. Lamb's. Their +mistress' attitude was one of magnanimity. She declined to +prefer a charge against them, at any rate just then, whatever +she might do later. Though, of course, under the circumstances, +to pay them anything in the shape of wages was altogether out of +the question. All she wanted to do was to see their backs. And +she saw them. A shamefaced, miserable, draggle-tailed crew they +looked, as, one after the other, under the policeman's cold +official glance, they took their boxes out into the street. Then +Mrs. Lamb presented that zealous young officer with a sovereign. +He made short work of clearing the debris away from the front. + +So Mrs. Lamb was left alone in that great mansion without a +servant to wait on her of any sort or kind. + +She went into the boudoir; that and her bedroom, and indeed the +whole house, was exactly in the same condition in which she had +found it in the morning. It seemed as if no one had moved a +finger to put anything in order. Removing her hat, she sat down +and tried to think. The result was a failure. Her thoughts would +not travel on the lines she wished; they would launch out in +undesirable directions. She had scarcely been there a minute +before she began to become conscious of an unpleasant feeling +that she was not alone, when, all the time, she knew she was. An +odd, morbid obsession began to overpower her, as, directly she +was alone, it had shown an uncomfortable aptitude to do of late. +Putting her hands up to her eyes she rubbed them with her palms, +as if she were endeavouring to rub something away from them. +Then, removing her hands again, she looked about her, queerly. + +"Of course it's ridiculous, and I suppose the real explanation +is that I'm not so well as I ought to be; but it's funny how I'm +always seeming to be back in his room, and how plainly I can see +it all; and the bed--the bed." There was a rigid expression on +her face which it was not agreeable to observe, as she herself +seemed to understand. Standing up she gave herself a little +shake, as if she were trying to shake something from off her. +"This won't do--it won't do. It's not healthy. And yet there's +something which I ought to look at--to see; to understand. It's +something in the room. It's not the bed--not only the bed; it's +something else. I wish I could think what it was; I wish I could +understand; then perhaps it might go." + +The overturned decanter which had been on the buhl table in the +morning was still there. She picked it up, holding it up to the +light. It was empty. She went to what seemed to be a buhl +liqueur case which stood on the floor in a corner. It was +locked. She went to her bedroom to look for the key. It was not +in its usual place. + +"I can't think where I put it; those brutes can't have had it. I +had it myself last night, I know. Where did I put it? I can't +wait to think--I can't wait; besides it doesn't matter. Anything +will do to open it." + +She took a polished brass poker. With it she made a hole in the +lid of the case large enough to enable her to insert her +fingers. Then, with her hands, she tore the lid away--a +sufficiently easy task, since the wood proved to be less than an +eighth of an inch in thickness. The case contained six bottles. +She took out one; it was labelled "Pure Ether--Poison". +Withdrawing the stopper, paying no attention to the statement on +the label, she poured out nearly a wineglassful, which she +instantly swallowed, coupling with it, as it were, a somewhat +gruesome sentiment. "Here's to Isaac Luker! I wish he was in +reach; I'd like to kill him." + +Scarcely were the words out of her lips than the door opened to +admit her husband. He stared at her. + +"Belle, there doesn't seem to be a servant in the place--not a +creature. Where are they all off to? What's it mean?" + +She replied to his question with another. + +"Gregory, doesn't there seem to you to be something singular +about this bedroom?" + +"Bedroom? It's not a bedroom; it's a boudoir. What do you mean? +Belle, what's the matter with the house? What have you got in +your hand? What are you drinking?" + +Mrs. Lamb was looking round her in a fashion which induced her +husband to draw back, as if in doubt. + +"Have you ever seen it before--anywhere? Isn't there something +strange about it?--especially the bed?" + +Mr. Lamb seemed to be of opinion that his wife's manner was +distinctly disagreeable; apparently he did not know what to make +of it. + +"Bed?--what bed? There's no bed here. You're--you're not well. +Don't talk like that; you make me go all over creeps. I say, +Belle, I do wish you'd give me some coin--if it's only a tenner. +I'm broke to the wide." + +"Gregory!" + +"Well?" + +"Come here; I want to speak to you." + +"Thank you, I'm awfully sorry, but I've got an appointment with +a man; I can't stop. About that money--Belle! now, what's up?" + +With a swift, unexpected movement, interposing herself between +him and the door, his wife had slipped her arm through his, and +was looking at him with something in her big black eyes which +made him more uncomfortable than he would have cared to admit. +Considering the bold, ringing, almost blusterous tones in which +she was wont to speak, there was something unpleasantly +significant in the half-whisper in which she addressed him now. + +"Gregory, you must stop--you mustn't go. There's something which +I wish to say to you--a great deal which I wish to say to you, +and I must say it to you now--here"--her voice sank still +lower--"in Cuthbert Grahame's bedroom." + + + + + CHAPTER XXVIII + + MR. LAMB IN A COMMUNICATIVE MOOD + + +In the evening of that day Margaret Wallace and Harry Talfourd +dined with Dr. Twelves. The young lady, who throughout the day +had remained in a curious mood, was indisposed to avail herself +of the doctor's hospitality; but she was over-persuaded by the +doctor, who was insistent, and by Mr. Talfourd, who was on his +side. Throughout the day they had talked and talked and talked. +Harry was of opinion that, on a certain theme, they had talked +too much. There was something about Margaret which was new to +him; which he did not understand. It troubled him. So when the +doctor changed the subject by asking them to dine with him he +accepted, for himself, at once; and when Margaret hummed and +hawed, and began to make excuses, for her also. He told her that +she would have to dine with the doctor--and she had to. The two +men bore her off with them in triumph. + +The doctor entertained his guests at the Holborn Restaurant. In +his youth he had known the place when it was a dancing-hall; had +visited it while undergoing various transformations during his +recurrent trips to town, and, whenever he came to London, made a +point of patronising it still. The meal was hardly a jovial one. +The host and Harry did all they could to keep the conversation +on impersonal and frivolous lines, but Margaret would have none +of it. She could scarcely be induced to open her lips to put +food between them; talk she would not. The colloquial gifts for +which she was famous seemed to have deserted her entirely; she +was tongue-tied. When, in a dinner party of three, the lady, who +is both young and charming, cannot be persuaded to speak, the +meal is apt to prove but a qualified success. The doctor's +little festive gathering turned out to be not quite so festive +as it might have been. + +As chance, or fate, had it, the two men's well-meant efforts to +keep the conversation in exhilarating channels were doomed to +meet with complete fiasco. After the meal was finished, as they +strolled along Holborn, enjoying the fine evening, considering +whether to take a cab, and if so, where to tell the cabman to +take them to--for the doctor was firm in his conviction that +this was an occasion on which they were bound to make a night of +it--the issue was taken out of their hands in a wholly +unexpected fashion. A gentleman, who did not seem to be so +capable of seeing where he was going as he ought to have been, +all but cannoned against Mr. Talfourd, drawing back to apologise +just in time. + +"Beg pardon! Why, it's Talfourd! Hollo, Talfourd! who's the +lady? and who's----" The speaker was staring at the doctor. +"Hollo! I've seen you somewhere before!" + +The doctor was returning him look for look. + +"And I've seen you. You're Mr. Gregory Lamb, who lodged one +time at David Blair's over the other side of Pitmuir, to +whom I was foolish enough to loan a brace of sovereigns, for +four-and-twenty hours, as I understood, but which you've never +paid me back unto this day." + +Mr. Lamb was not at all abashed; he never was by reminders of +that kind--they were legion. + +"Why, of course, it's the doctor--the cranky old doctor. I +remember you quite well. How are you, old chap? You haven't--you +haven't a brace of sovereigns on you now?" + +"I have not a brace which you are likely to be able to bag, Mr. +Lamb. I understand that you have married since I saw you last." + +"Since you saw me! I was married then." + +"Indeed? But I gathered that you had since married the widow of +an old friend of mine--Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame." + +"Widow? She wasn't his widow; she never was his wife." + +"Pardon me, but she went through the Scotch form of marriage +with him in my presence." + +"That was all her dashed impudence. She was my wife long before +that; before she ever knew that he was in the world. Doctor, my +wife's a devil of a woman, and she's been treating me in a devil +of a way. If I were to tell you all that she's been doing, so +far as I can understand, mind you--it's quite between +ourselves--you'd go straight to a police station, and you'd +ask for a warrant; but I'm her husband, so I can't. Listen to +me--this is between ourselves--if you'll come to a place I know, +and where they know me--most respectable place--and do me the +pleasure of having a drink with me--and Talfourd, and the +lady--never leave out a lady when it's a question of a little +refreshment--I'll tell you what she's just been telling me, not +five minutes ago. It'll surprise you. Good as confessed to +committing murder; half expected her to murder me--give you my +word it's a fact. Come and have a little something and I'll tell +you all about it--between ourselves, you know." + +The doctor exchanged glances with Mr. Talfourd and with +Margaret. + +"It seems to me, Mr. Lamb, that you've had more than a little +something already." + +"You're wrong, old chap--quite wrong; do assure you. It's +ether--beastly ether." + +"Ether?" + +"Ever heard of the stuff before? I never did. Seems she lives +on it; takes it in quarts. She crammed some of it down my +throat--fairly took me by the throat and crammed it down. I'm +like a child in her hands--give you my word. She's a devil of a +woman. Never tasted anything like it before; seems to have sent +me stark staring mad. Don't know whether I'm standing on my head +or heels. Let's go and have some Christian liquor, and I'll tell +you all about it." + +Again the doctor exchanged glances with his companions. + +"If you'll allow me to offer you a seat in my cab I'll take you +to a friend who'll be able to give you some of the finest whisky +in England, and there, at your leisure, you can tell us all +about it." + +"My dear old chap, when they called you cranky I always said +that there was more in you than they might think, and I stand to +it to the present moment. I say----" + +The doctor did not wait to hear what he said; he bundled him +into a four-wheeled cab after Margaret and Harry. When the cab +had started Margaret asked-- + +"Where are you taking us?" + +"I am taking you to my friend, Andrew McTavish, who has a +commodious residence in Mecklenburg Square--just handy. There, +over a glass of whisky, Mr. Lamb will be able to tell us just +what his wife told him. He'll find us interested listeners." + +There was a dryness in the doctor's tone which was lost upon the +gentleman at his side, who occupied the short distance they had +to traverse by protestations of the regard he had always felt +for the old acquaintance whom fortune, or destiny, had again +thrown across his path. + +That night Mr. Brown was his partner's guest at dinner. Both +gentlemen were still smarting from the outrage to which Mrs. +Gregory Lamb had subjected them that afternoon. Dinner was +finished; they were in the library, planning schemes of +vengeance, when the servant announced that Dr. Twelves was +outside, and was desirous of seeing Mr. McTavish. Before the +servant was able to explain that the visitor was not alone, the +doctor himself marched in with his retinue. The partners rose +from their chairs in surprise. + +"McTavish--Brown--I have the honour to introduce you to Miss +Margaret Wallace, a young lady of whom you have heard a good +deal, and whom I am sure you'll be delighted to know. This is +Mr. Harry Talfourd, of whom you may have also heard something. +And this, gentlemen--this is Mr. Gregory Lamb, the husband of +the lady of whom, I fancy, you have perhaps heard rather too +much." + +If the look upon the partners' faces meant anything, there could +be no doubt upon the latter point. Both Mr. McTavish and Mr. +Brown stared at Mr. Lamb as if he were not only the strangest, +but also the most unwelcome, object they had ever beheld. Then +Mr. McTavish turned to the doctor, with a gasp. + +"I'd have you to know, Dr. Twelves, that you're taking a great +liberty. You're presuming on our friendship in venturing to +bring this individual to my house, and at this time of night. +Brown, I'll trouble you to ring the bell. Mr. Lamb shall be +shown to the door, before we have him behaving as his wife did +this afternoon." + +Mr. McTavish had become rubicund with agitation; the doctor +remained placid. + +"In less than five minutes, Andrew, you'll be acknowledging that +I've done you a very considerable service in bringing Mr. Lamb +to this house, and you'll be begging my pardon for the remarks +which you have just made." + +Mr. Brown, obedient to his partner's request, had rung the bell. +A servant appeared. Him Dr. Twelves addressed before Mr. +McTavish had a chance of speaking. + +"You'll have the goodness to bring a decanter of whisky, and the +other necessaries, at once." + +When the man looked at his master for an endorsement of this +order the doctor explained. + +"Andrew, Mr. Lamb has a communication to make which I think you +will find of interest; he proposes to make it while enjoying a +glass of prime whisky." + +"I cannot imagine what Mr. Lamb has to say which can be of +interest to me, but, since you wish it--John, bring the whisky." + +A decanter being placed upon a table, the doctor prepared a +potent mixture which he handed to Mr. Lamb. + +"I think, Mr. Lamb, I understood you to say that Mrs. Lamb was +married to you before she met Cuthbert Grahame?" + +"Of course she was--ever so long. She was never his wife; that +was only her bluff. This is something like whisky. Gentlemen, +your very good health, and the lady's--never overlook a lady." + +"You perceive, Andrew, that Mrs. Lamb was already Mrs. Lamb when +she encountered your late client, Mr. Cuthbert Grahame, and, +therefore, any document in which she is described as his wife +is, I believe, on the face of it, null and void." + +Mr. McTavish made as if about to speak, but a movement of the +doctor's left eyelid seemed to act as a check. The doctor turned +to Mr. Lamb, grimly affable. + +"You like this whisky, Mr. Lamb?" Judging from the fact that +that gentleman had already emptied his tumbler it seemed as if +he did. "Allow me to fill your glass." The speaker suited the +action to the word; he did very nearly fill the glass with neat +spirit. "From what you said I should imagine that you have +recently had rather a singular scene with your wife, Mr. Lamb. +You were about to tell us what occurred. Was it anything very +remarkable?" + +"I should think it was remarkable. Your very good health, +gentlemen. After the stuff she forced down my throat this is +something like whisky; ether she forced down my throat--rank +poison. Why, do you know she sees things--actually sees +things--give you my word--makes your blood cold to hear her +talking. She made out we were in a bedroom--Cuthbert Grahame's +bedroom she called it; it was only the boudoir. She talked +about the things which were in it just as if they were in it, +when of course they were nothing of the kind--just the ordinary +furniture! 'You see that bed?' she said. Of course I didn't; +there wasn't a bed to see; not even the ghost of a bed. 'That's +Cuthbert Grahame lying in it. You see how he's propped up by +pillows?' The idea of such a thing in a boudoir! 'Now I'm going +to pull away those pillows from under his head.' She actually +pretended to be pulling at pillows, or something--positive fact! +'Now,' she said, 'you see how his head's fallen? You hear what a +noise he makes in trying to breathe? He's choking. I've only got +to leave him like that for a time and he'll be dead. He almost +choked to death when a pillow slipped the other day, so I know.' +Quite serious she was all the time--frightfully serious; made me +all over creeps to hear her--give you my word." + +"Do we understand you to tell us that she said, 'Now I'm going +to pull away those pillows from under his head,' and that then, +in pantomime, she went through the action of pulling them?" + +"Certainly; that's just what she did do--just exactly. Then she +pretended to drop them on to the floor, and talked about the +noise he made in trying to breathe. Awful!--really awful!" + +"Was that all she said? or did?" + +"I should think not; there were all sorts of things; she kept on +for a devil of a time. But I can't remember just what they were +just now--strange how you do forget things. Oh yes! there was +one thing--I remember one thing!--most extraordinary thing. She +said, 'You see that fireplace'. Of course there wasn't a +fireplace; she was standing right back in front of a window. +Absurd! But she saw it--stake my life she saw it--you could +tell. 'There's something about that fireplace which I ought to +see, but I can't think what it is; something which I ought to +understand, but I can't. If I only could!' You never heard +anything like the way she said it; you never heard anything more +impressive on the stage--positive fact! 'You see those two +wooden posts,' she went on. Of course I saw nothing of the kind, +because, as I've told you, there was nothing to see--I don't see +things. 'Those two pillar things, I mean, which have been carved +out of the woodwork of the mantelpiece, one on either side, just +near the bottom. Do you know, Gregory, I believe that there's +something about those two posts which I ought to see, which I +ought to understand! But I can't! I can't!' Give you my word +that she began to cry; twisted her hands together and went on +like anything--actually. Seemed so silly! 'I believe,' she +cried,' that if I could only see, if I could only understand, I +should know where Cuthbert Grahame's money is, that I should +find the quarter of a million which is lost.'" + +As Mr. Lamb gave a dramatic imitation of his wife's manner, +which, considering all the circumstances, was not so bad, +Margaret, who hitherto had remained in the background, came to +the front with a question. + +"Are you sure she said that there was something about those two +posts which--if she saw, if she understood it--would make known +to her where Cuthbert Grahame's money was?" + +Mr. Lamb had something of an aggrieved air as he replied. + +"Am I sure? Of course I'm sure; I shouldn't say she said it if I +wasn't sure. My statements are absolutely to be relied upon, +Miss Whoever-you-are." + +The doctor glanced from Mr. Lamb to Margaret. + +"What's he mean, or what's she mean about two wooden posts? It's +all double Dutch to me; I don't understand in the least. Is it +any plainer to you?" + +"I think that it is all quite plain to me; that I can understand +what she doesn't; that I can see what she can't." Her voice +sank. Although she spoke gently her tones, to adopt Mr. Lamb's +word, were most "impressive". "I believe that, unwittingly, she +has delivered herself into my hands; that the duel which she and +I are fighting has advanced another stage; that soon we shall be +exchanging shots; and that then there will be but one of us two +left to tell how it all fell out." + + + + + CHAPTER XXIX + + MARGARET PAYS A CALL + + +The next morning, between eleven o'clock and noon, Margaret went +out visiting. She had paid much attention to her costume, more +than she was wont to do. Her mind travelled back to the day on +which she had been repulsed from Cuthbert Grahame's door; she +endeavoured to recall what on that occasion she had worn. Women +have a mnemonic system of their own; with them clothes and +events are inseparably associated. They recall one by a +reference to the other. Miss Wallace had no difficulty in +recollecting precisely what garments she had worn; she had even +a fair perception of how she had looked in them. She made it her +immediate purpose to look again as much as possible as she had +looked then. Almost providentially, as it seemed, the dress +itself was still in existence, hidden away at the bottom of a +box. She had never worn it since. First, because, although cheap +enough, it was fashioned of very delicate material, and the hot +water which had been poured upon her had blotched it here and +there with stains which she had found it impossible to attempt +to conceal. Then it was connected with an episode which, +whenever she saw it, would instantly recur. The recurrence +afforded her no pleasure. As, after excavating it, she surveyed +its many creases, she meditated. + +"It almost looks as if, from the first, I had preserved it with +a particular end in view, with the intention of producing it, +when the mathematical moment arrived, as what the French call a +_pičce de conviction_. It's ages behind the fashion, but that +will only serve to impress its significance more forcibly on +her." + +She contrived something in the way of head-gear which was +reminiscent of the hat she had worn that day. Her nimble fingers +reproduced the various trifles which in a woman's attire are of +such capital importance; she even dressed her hair in a fashion +which was obsolete. When, fully costumed, she surveyed herself +in a looking-glass, it seemed to her that the results were most +surprising. + +"Wonderful how the modes do change! It is not so many years ago, +and I am sure that then I was up-to-date; but now I look as if I +had come out of the ark; I might be in fancy-dress. I shall have +to take a cab; I should never dare to walk through the streets +like this; they'd take me for a guy. When Mrs. Gregory Lamb sees +me, if she's still in anything like the state of mind which that +charming husband of hers described last night, it won't be +wonderful if she takes me for a ghost." + +She put in a portfolio certain drawings which she had risen at a +very matutinal hour to make; the portfolio she placed beneath +her arm, and, thus equipped, she sallied forth upon her errand. +The street in which she had her lodging being of modest +pretensions, was but little frequented by cabs. She had a five +minutes' walk before she found one. And during that short +promenade she was the object of so much attention, especially +from the females as she passed, that she was glad when, seated +in a hansom, she was at least partially concealed by the +friendly apron. + +She found the door of Mrs. Lamb's residence in Connaught Square +wide open. On the steps stood a shabbily dressed man, with his +hands in his trouser pockets, an ancient bowler pressed tightly +down upon his head, and a clay pipe between his lips. When +Margaret addressed him he moved neither his hat, nor himself, +nor his pipe. + +"Is Mrs. Lamb in?" + +"From what the governor told me I shouldn't be surprised but +what she's gone back to bed." + +Margaret considered the man's words. His manner was not exactly +rude, it was peculiar. + +"Which is her bedroom?" + +"That's more than I can tell you. I ain't been upstairs myself. +I've got a bad leg, and ain't too fond of going up and down +stairs, especially when there ain't no need of it. But you'll +find it somewhere that way, I expect." + +"May I ask who you are?" + +"Me?" Taking his pipe out, the man drew the back of his hand +across his lips. "I'm representing the landlord; that's what I +am." + +"Representing the landlord? Do you mean that you're a bailiff?" + +"A bailiff--that's it! I'm in possession; three quarters' +rent--nearly four. My governor was only just in time. Seems +there's a bill of sale on the furniture. They came up with their +vans as my governor was going over the place; wanted to clear +everything out, they did. Of course my governor soon put a +stopper on that. There was a bit of a talk. I shouldn't be +surprised if they was to pay my governor out. It's a queer +business from what I hear." + +"Please let me pass, I want to see Mrs. Lamb." + +The man drew well back into the house. + +"Certainly; any lady can see Mrs. Lamb for what I care. I expect +you'll find her somewhere about upstairs." + +As she ascended the staircase Miss Wallace indulged in inward +comments. + +"The house looked very different the night before last; nobody +would have guessed then that the shadow of ruin was already +hovering over it. She must be a curious person to give a party +to all that crowd of people when she knew that at any hour the +brokers might be in for rent. And to talk of financing Harry's +play! and paying him three hundred a year for doing nothing! But +then she is a curious person. The house looks as if nothing had +been touched in it since Mrs. Lamb's reception came to a +premature conclusion--it smells like it too. What have we here? +What a state of things!" + +She glanced into the drawing-rooms, which remained in a state of +amazing confusion. Mounting to the floor above she found herself +confronted by two closed doors. + +"I wonder if one of these is her bedroom. I'll try this." + +She turned the handle of the door which was directly in front of +her, softly, and walked right in. It was the lady's bedroom, and +the lady was in bed. Margaret had entered so quietly that +apparently not the slightest sound had informed the mistress of +the house that any one was there. The girl stood still. + +"Pah! what an atmosphere! I'd sooner have every pane of glass +broken than breathe air like this. I shouldn't think the windows +have been open for days." She glanced at the bed. "Is she +asleep?--at this hour?--with the broker's man downstairs?" + +Laying her portfolio on a small table, she moved closer to the +bed. Its occupant continued motionless. The girl, leaning +forward, touched her, lightly, on the shoulder. Still no sign of +life. The girl exchanged the light touch for a sudden, vigorous +grip, giving the shoulder a wrench which must have roused the +soundest sleeper. The woman started up in bed. + +"Luker! is that you?" she cried. + +When freshly roused from slumber, she saw who it was; her first +impression seemed to be that she was still the victim of some +haunting dream. Speechless, she stared at the girl, drawing +farther and farther back the longer she stared. Her whole +frame--her pose, her limbs, the muscles of her face--seemed to +become rigid, set, as if she were afflicted by some new and +awful form of tetanus. She appeared to be incapable of twitching +a lip or of moving an eyelid. Even when Margaret spoke she +persisted in her fixed and dreadful glare, as if she were some +unpleasant statue. + +"I am Margaret Wallace--as you are aware. I am she whom you +drove from Cuthbert Grahame's door, pretending you were Nannie +Foreshaw. These are the clothes I was wearing when you drove me +away with lies and with hot water. See--here are the stains of +that hot water still. Your sin has found you out; judgment is +pronounced; your punishment has already begun. Between you and +me it is a duel to the death. It is your choice, not mine, but +since you have forced it on me, I will fight you to the end, and +I shall win. I know all about you--who you are, what you've +done. I know that you were already a wife when you pretended to +marry Cuthbert Grahame; that you committed bigamy. I know that +you got that will from him by means of a trick. I know that so +soon as you had got it you murdered him. You snatched the +pillows from under his head--see! like that!" She caught up the +two pillows which lay upon the bolster and dropped them on the +floor. "Can't you hear the noise he makes in trying to breathe? +He's choking. You've only to leave him like that for a little +while, and he'll be dead. And you left him! I know--I know." + +The woman listened to the hot, eager words which streamed from +the girl's lips as if the speaker were some supernatural +visitor, and the accusations were being hurled at her from on +high; and still she never moved a muscle, she even seemed to +cease to breathe. + +"You see!--we are in Cuthbert Grahame's bedroom, you and I. I +know it as well as you do--better--and you know it very well. +You'll never forget it--never!--to the last moment of your life. +There is the mantelpiece; it is made of wood--carved wood. It is +old; old as the house itself; beautifully carved. You see there +are two wooden pillars, one on either side, carved so that they +stand out. You are quite right in supposing that there is +something about them which you ought to see, to understand. I +have come to tell you--to show you--what it is." + +Taking from her portfolio two drawings she held first one and +then the other in front of the motionless woman. + +"I have made a drawing of the mantelpiece, just as you see it, +and as I see it, and as it is. Is it not like it? Here are the +two side-posts; but here"--exchanging one drawing for the +other--"is only one of them. That is a picture of the pillar +which is on the left-hand side of the mantelpiece as you stand +in front of it--you will remember, on the left-hand side. I have +written down an exact description of it in case you should +forget, because there is only one thing which you will never +forget, and that is on the bed. Look closely at the drawing; it +represents the pillar exactly. This long, slender part, which +runs from here to here, is called the shaft. You hold it with +both hands, or, as you are very strong, you will perhaps be +able to manage with one, and you turn it right round in its +socket--completely round. It will probably be a little stiff, as +it has not been touched for so long; but you'll find that you'll +be able to make it move. This narrow piece at the top is called +the neck. After you have turned the column you pull it to the +left. It slides in two grooves. It may be a little stiff, like +the column, but if you push, or pull, hard enough, and long +enough, it will yield. This still narrower piece near the foot +of the column, just above the plinth--the plinth in the bottom +of a column is called the _torus_, or the _tore_ (_torus_ +is a Latin word which architects use, and it just means +swelling)--when you have turned the pillar, and slipped the +neck, you get as firm a grip on the top of the torus as you can, +give a smart jerk, and it will fall over on a hinge. Have you +ever read _The Arabian Nights?_ You don't look as if you had +read anything. If you haven't, you never will; you'll never have +a chance. But I suppose you've heard of Ali Baba and the Forty +Thieves; the cave in which they kept their treasure; the +password, 'Open Sesame,' which caused the cave to open. All +these man[oe]uvres of which I have been telling you--turning the +shaft, sliding the neck, pulling forward the torus--are the +'Open Sesame' which will lead you to the place where the +treasure is--greater treasure than was in the cave of the forty +thieves. These performances which you will have gone through +will have unlocked, unbolted and unbarred. All that remains is +that you slide that whole side of the mantelpiece to the left. +You'll have no difficulty. Behind you'll discover a cupboard, +deep though narrow, going far back into the wall, with shelves +laden with treasures. On those shelves is the quarter of a +million of money--I daresay more--which once was Cuthbert +Grahame's, waiting for some one to carry it away! Here are the +two drawings which are the key to the riddle. I present them to +you freely. They were made specially for you. Although the +broker's man is in for rent, and the bill of sale men clamour at +the door, and you are penniless, and ruin stares you in the +face--ruin utter and complete--though your need of it's so +great, you'll not get that money which is hidden in the +mantelpiece--you'll not dare! you'll not dare! Because the bed +still stands in the room--you can see it now!--the bed on which +you murdered Cuthbert Grahame; and Cuthbert Grahame still lies +on it--you can see him too!--waiting and watching for you to +return to where you threw the pillows on the floor--waiting and +watching for you. You'll not dare go back into that room again, +because in it the dead hand is waiting to grip you by the +throat. And after to-morrow it will be too late--Cuthbert +Grahame's money will be there no longer. Here are the drawings. +I will leave them with you, as I said. You will be able to study +them at your leisure, conscious of who is looking over your +shoulder." + +Margaret laid the drawings on the coverlet. With her portfolio +again beneath her arm she quitted the room, as noiselessly as +she had entered. All the time Mrs. Gregory Lamb had not moved or +spoken a word. + + + + + CHAPTER XXX + + MRS. LAMB IN SEARCH OF ADVICE + + +On the evening of that same day, at the door of Mr. Isaac +Luker's little house in that _cul-de-sac_ near Stamford Street, +some one knocked, in a rather unusual manner, as if after a +prescribed fashion, then whistled half-a-dozen sharp, shrill +notes up the scale. This performance was repeated thrice before +anything happened to show that it had attracted attention +within. Then a window was opened above; the solicitor's head +came out. + +"Who's there?" + +A feminine voice replied-- + +"It's me--Isabel. I want to speak to you. Don't keep me waiting +out here. Come down! let me in at once." + +There was a brief pause before the answer came, as if the man of +law was endeavouring to see as much of his visitor as he could. + +"Not much--I won't have you in this house; don't you think it; +I'm not a fool. If you won't go without a fuss I'll soon get +those who'll shift you." + +"You are a fool. I don't want money from you, or anything of +that kind. I want to tell you something--that's all." + +"Then tell it me from where you are; I'm listening." + +Mrs. Lamb's voice dropped, so that her words were only just +audible to the man above. + +"Cuthbert Grahame's money's found." + +Another pause, possibly of doubt. + +"Is that a lie?" + +"I'll swear it isn't; it's as true as I stand here." + +"Where is it?" + +"It's in his house" + +"His house? What house? I didn't know he'd got a house." + +"His house at Pitmuir--where I met him--where he died." + +"How do you know it's there?" + +"I'll tell you all about it if you'll let me in." + +"You'll tell me before I let you in." + +"Margaret Wallace--that girl--you know--she came this morning +and told me it was there." + +"I don't believe it. Why should she, of all people, come and +tell you a thing like that? Tell that for a tale." + +"She did; I swear she did. The money's there--I know just +where--a quarter of a million at least." + +"A quarter of a million?" + +"At least! If I was there I'd have it in my hands inside two +minutes. I'm as sure of it as I am that I'm alive. Don't be +silly; let me in, and let's talk where we can be alone. I'm on +the square--I swear it. I don't want anything from you; I just +want your advice--that's all." + +There was another pause. + +"Mrs. Lamb, I've got a telephone installed in these premises. +I'm going to telephone to a friend that you're here; I'm going +to ask him to step round in a few minutes. If, when he comes, +you've been making trouble, there'll be trouble for you--you'll +be the sorriest woman that ever lived. I give you my word; when +I give you my word on a point like that you know it goes. You +wait there until I'm ready." + +The head was withdrawn; the window closed; the lady waited, +impatiently enough. Her patience was sufficiently tried. It +seemed to her that she waited an hour; she certainly did wait +twenty minutes. More than once she was on the point of sounding +a loud rat-a-tat on the knocker by way of a little reminder. It +was only with an effort she restrained herself, being conscious +that possibly Mr. Luker's decision still hung in the balance, +and that it needed but little to turn the balance against her. +She had just arrived at a final conclusion that he had played +her false, or, at any rate, intended to ignore her existence, +when the door was opened, on the chain. + +"I've telephoned to my friend; he's coming; so, if you're in an +argumentative frame of mind, you'd better take my strong advice +and stay outside. No argument will be allowed in here." + +It seemed to Mrs. Lamb that the wary Mr. Luker was carrying his +wariness almost a trifle too far. She was unable to altogether +conceal that this was her feeling. + +"Bless the man! I don't want to argue! I just want to explain +exactly how the matter stands. When you've opened that door +you'll find that I mean just what I say, neither more nor less." + +"My friend, when he arrives, will see that you don't mean more; +you can take my word for that. Come inside!" + +Mr. Luker removed the chain; the lady entered; he led the way to +a room on the ground floor at the back. It was much better +furnished than the exterior of the house, and its occupant's +appearance, might have led one to expect. A telephone, on its +bracket against the wall, was one of the most prominent objects +the room contained. Mr. Luker called her attention to its +presence. + +"You see? I'm not so much alone here as you might think; I'm in +constant communication with my friend; and as he'll be here very +shortly, perhaps you'll say what you have to say as quickly as +you can." + +"It'd have been said already, if you hadn't kept me cooling my +heels outside while you were playing the fool in here with your +telephone." + +As clearly and succinctly as possible--she could keep to the +point when she liked--Mrs. Lamb told her tale, exhibiting +Margaret's drawings, partly by way of corroboration and partly +to elucidate certain points which needed explanation. + +"And you believe it?" + +"Believe that the money's inside that mantelpiece? I'm as +certain of it as I am that I see you." + +"What makes you so sure?" + +"His will was hidden in one corner of the room. All along I've +felt sure that there were more hiding-places in it than one. I +shouldn't be surprised if there were half a dozen. It's just the +kind of room, and he's just the kind of man. As for the +mantelpiece, I've been bothered all along by a feeling that +there was something about it which I ought to understand, and +didn't. Now I know what it is. Cuthbert Grahame's money's there +as certainly as you are here. I tell you he was just the sort of +curiosity--he wasn't a man when I knew him!--who might be +expected to play a trick like that." + +"But why should the girl come and tell you the tale when it was +to her advantage to keep it dark--especially from you?" + +"That's more than I can say. I know she's a white-faced little +devil, and that I hate her. I lay she didn't do it out of any +love for me." + +"That, I think, we may take for granted--which makes the puzzle +more. It looks to me as if she expects you to walk headlong into +a trap which she has carefully baited." + +"Curse her traps! What do I care for her traps? She can't set +one which will catch me. The money's there, and the money's +mine--and I'll get it." + +"Then get it. It will be useful to you just now, even if there's +less than a quarter of a million." + +"Useful!--my God!--useful!" Stretching out her arms on +either side, she drew a long breath. "But, Luker--that's the +mischief!--it's in his room; the one in which he died." + +"Well; you've told me that already--what of it?" + +"What of it? Why!"--she laughed; there was something in the +sound of her laughter which caused him to bunch himself +together, as if touched by a sudden chill--"I daren't go in it." + +"You daren't go in it? What do you mean? The house is your own, +isn't it? What's there to be afraid of? Who's to keep you out?" + +"That's it!--I don't know! I don't know! Luker, there's +something come over me lately; I didn't used to be troubled with +nerves." + +"You didn't." + +"I never was afraid of anything--or any one." + +"You weren't; you've always had the devil's own courage since +you were a girl." + +"There's been nothing I daren't do." + +"It would have been better for you, perhaps, if there had been +something; there's such a thing as daring to do too much." + +"You think so? Perhaps that's it; perhaps I have dared to do too +much." + +"As to that you know better than I do; I'm not your father +confessor, nor wish to be. The Lord forbid!" + +"I don't know how it is, but, lately, I've gone all to pieces. +I'm afraid of all sorts of things. When that girl came this +morning I was afraid of her; she frightened me out of my senses. +I thought she was a ghost; I couldn't have moved or spoken to +save my life; I listened to her like a stuck pig. Luker, things +have upset me more than I thought anything could have done. +I'm--I'm all a bundle of nerves." + +"It's that stuff you've been drinking." + +"Stuff? What stuff?" + +"When I was at your place yesterday I saw a decanter lying on +the table; some of the contents had been spilled. I dipped my +finger into the stuff and tasted it. It was ether. When women of +your temperament take to drinking ether, that's an end of them." + +"But I've got to drink it!--I've got to! I never touch it unless +I'm forced! Luker, if I didn't, sometimes, I should go stark, +staring mad." + +"Then you'll go stark, staring mad. Ether's a royal road to +madness for such as you. Better stick to gin." + +"Gin!--gin's no good; a barrelful would be no good when I'm like +that." + +"I see--that's the point you've got to." He was eyeing her +intently. "Is there any particular reason why you should be +afraid of going into the room where that man died?" + +She became instantly conscious of the keenness of his scrutiny, +perceiving that in it there was a new quality. Her manner +changed. + +"Any particular reason? No; there's only the general reason that +I'm all mops and brooms; that I start at shadows. Besides, I'm +going into it, and you're going with me." + +"Am I? That's news." + +"Luker, if you'll come with me to Pitmuir, and stick to me while +I find Cuthbert Grahame's money, I'll give you five hundred +pounds." + +"Hard cash?--before we start?" + +"I can't do that; you know I can't do that. But, Luker, I'll +give you a thousand when I've found the money. I'll set down my +promise in writing; give you any sort of undertaking you like." + +"Yes; but suppose you don't find the money; suppose what that +girl told you is nothing but a cock-and-bull story? I tell you +plainly that I can't make head or tail of the whole business. +I've no faith in the girl, or her story, or her motives. And I'm +pretty sure that she has no intention, under any circumstances +or on any conditions, of presenting you with Cuthbert Grahame's +fortune, or of putting you in the way of getting it for yourself +either." + +"But I know it's there. I can't explain to you how I know it--I +don't understand myself--but I do. And though it seems queer, at +the back of my head I've known it all the time. Luker, as sure +as you are living, that money's there." + +"Then, in that case, instead of going yourself, why not instruct +some one on the spot to examine the premises on your behalf; to +pull down this famous mantelpiece, or the whole house if +necessary, and report the results to you?" + +"Who shall I instruct? Before they move they'll perhaps want +money--I expect my position is pretty generally known--and where +am I to find it? In any case, they'll take their own time, and +time is precious. Besides, there are enough fingers meddling in +my affairs already. And who am I to trust? I don't want any one +except myself to know how much I find. To speak of nothing else, +shouldn't I have to pay succession duty if it were known?" + +"I suppose you would. Isabel, you're a curious person; a little +too fond, perhaps, of doing things for yourself; yet, in +delicate matters--in very delicate matters--it's a fault on the +right side. How do you know you can trust me?" + +"You and I have seen too much of each other for me not to know +when, and where, and how far I can trust you. I'm not afraid." + +"You're right; you needn't be. I don't think I am likely to +round on you. But, on the other hand, frankly, I'm afraid of +you." + +"Nor need you be afraid of me. It's only when I'm upset +that--that I'm trying--that's all." + +"Even if it is all, it's a pretty big all." + +"About the thousand pounds. As I said, I'll give you any sort of +bond you like, undertaking, if you stick to me, to pay you the +moment I get the money in my hands. Anyhow you know that you'll +be safe. It's not bad pay for what I'm asking you to do." + +"I don't say it is. When do you propose to start?" + +"To-morrow morning, by the ten o'clock train from King's Cross. +I planned it all out before I came." + +"That's quick work." + +"It'll have to be quick work. If I don't have money, and plenty +of it, within forty-eight hours, I'm undone." + +"I understand. By the way, I presume that you're prepared to pay +all out-of-pocket expenses, for both parties, as we go on. For +instance, I shall require you to hand me a return ticket to +wherever we are going before I set foot inside the train. I'm a +poor man, although you sometimes amuse yourself by pretending to +think otherwise, and I, at any rate, can afford to take no +risks." + +"You shall have your ticket, and I'll pay everything. I've the +money to do it--but it's about as much as I have got." + +"Ah, but by to-morrow, about this time, you'll be more than a +millionaire. I've always understood that that wonderful quarter +of a million of Mr. Grahame's produced, on an average, more than +twenty per cent.; so that if you had a million, averaging a +modest three per cent.--and some millionaires would be glad to +get as much--your income would be less. Then there are the +arrears, which have been accruing! Think of the arrears, Mrs. +Lamb--on a quarter of a million, at twenty per cent.! Now if you +will sit down here, and will give me, on this sheet of paper, +that little undertaking you mentioned, I think that, on my part, +I can undertake to accompany you on your little trip to the +north." + + + + + CHAPTER XXXI + + MRS. LAMB RETURNS TO PITMUIR + + +When Mr. Isaac Luker and his client, Mrs. Gregory Lamb, arrived +at the small roadside station, in the county of Forfar, towards +which they had been journeying throughout the day, they were +neither of them in the best of tempers. It had been a long day's +journey. There had been some misunderstanding about the +connection of the trains at Dundee. They had missed the one by +which they had meant to travel; there had been a dreary wait for +the next. When at last they started on the last stage of their +journey the engine went dawdling along the branch line in a +style which both, in their then frame of mind, found equally +trying. They would hardly, at any time, have been called a +sympathetic couple. Neither, for instance, would have selected +the other as an only companion on a desert island. By the time +the train paused for, so far as they were concerned, its final +stoppage, either would have been almost willing to fly to a +desert island to escape the other's society. + +It was between nine and ten at night--a misty night. The damp +seemed to be rising out of the ground, and to be covering the +country with a corpse-like pallor. There was a faint movement in +the air, which it did not need a very imaginative mind to +compare to a whisper of death. They were the only passengers who +alighted at the station, which seemed to consist of but a narrow +strip of bare earth, about the centre of which was constructed +what looked like a ramshackle shed. Illumination was given by +two or three oil lamps, and by a lantern which the only visible +official carried in his hand. To this personage Mrs. Lamb +addressed herself. + +"Is any one waiting for me?" + +The official proved to be a Scotsman of a peculiarly Scotch +type; his manners and his temper were both his own. No attempt +is made to reproduce the dialect in which he spoke. + +"And who might you happen to be?" + +"I'm Mrs. Gregory Lamb." + +"Never heard the name. Pass out! Tickets!" + +Mr. Luker nudged the lady's arm. + +"I thought you telegraphed under the name of Mrs. Cuthbert +Grahame?" + +She made a somewhat ill-considered attempt to correct the error +she had made. + +"I mean that I'm Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame." + +"Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame? You said just now that you were Mrs. +Gregory Lamb." + +"I spoke without thinking. I telegraphed some instructions to +the station-master in the name of Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame." + +"In the name of Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame? A body can't have two +names." + +"I ordered a close carriage to meet Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame by the +train before this, then, when I found I'd missed it, I sent a +wire from Dundee to order the carriage to wait for the next." + +"There's no carriage within miles." + +"No carriage? Then what is there?" + +"There's what they call a fly." + +"And is the fly here?" + +"Sam Harris wouldn't let it come." + +"Who's Sam Harris?" + +"He's the man that owns it." + +"And pray why wouldn't Mr. Harris let it come?" + +"You'd better be asking him instead of me. He lives about two +miles from here--perhaps a trifle over." + +"Two miles! Then is there nothing here to meet us?" + +"There's a cart." + +"A cart!--an open cart!--in this weather! What kind of cart?" + +"He was outside the gate when I saw him last, but maybe by now +he's grown tired of waiting, and he's gone. If you go outside +you'll be able to see for yourself what kind of cart it is +better than I can tell you. Any way, you can't stop here; I'm +off home. Tickets!--and if you haven't your tickets you'll have +to pay your fare--that's all." + +The two passengers surrendered their tickets. With such dignity +as she could muster the lady strode towards the little wooden +gate, Mr. Luker following limply behind. He made no attempt to +feign a sense of dignity which he did not possess. To judge from +his appearance and his attitude he had not only sunk into the +lowest stage of depression, but he was willing that all the +world should know it. A very woebegone figure he looked: so tall +and so thin, with the pronounced stoop; in the old familiar +garments which he had worn for so many years in town, a costume +which seemed singularly out of place on that spot just then; the +frayed, shabby frock-coat, tightly buttoned up the front, the +collar of which he now wore turned up about his chin; the +trousers which were at once too baggy and too short; the ancient +top-hat, which had seen so many better days. + +Outside the gate was what, in the semi-darkness, looked +uncommonly like an ordinary farmer's cart, and not too +comfortable, or cleanly, an example of its class. Mrs. Lamb +stared at it in disgust. + +"Have you brought that thing for me?" + +As regards manners the driver seemed to be a near relation of +the railway official's, if anything his were more pronounced. + +"I don't know who you are. How am I to know?" + +"I'm Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame of Pitmuir." + +"Oh; that's what you call yourself--ah!" + +"You appear to be an impudent fellow." + +"And you appear to be a free-spoken woman." + +"How dare you talk to me like that? I ask you again, have you +brought this thing for me?" + +"I've brought this thing, as you call it, which is as decent a +cart as ever you saw, and more decent maybe than you deserve to +sit in, to carry the person as calls herself Mrs. Cuthbert +Grahame to Pitmuir, and I'm beginning to wish I hadn't." + +"Why is there no fly here?" + +"Because Sam Harris wouldn't let his come." + +"Why not? I ordered it." + +"You ordered it! Mr. Harris said that he wasn't going to have +the likes of you sitting in a fly of his--that's why. So he sent +this cart instead. If this cart isn't good enough, I'll take it +back at once. I'll take it back anyhow if there's much more +talking." + +The lady and her solicitor exchanged glances. While they were +apparently seeking for words the driver volunteered another +remark, in keeping with those which had gone before. + +"There's another thing. I'm to be paid before I started; Mr. +Harris said I was." + +"You'll be paid when you reach Pitmuir." + +"Shall I? Then I'll say good-night." + +The man gathered up his reins as if about to depart. + +"Stop! What are you doing? You appear to be a pleasant +character." + +"From all accounts, ma'am, that's more than can be said of you." + +Under other circumstances the fellow might perhaps have +regretted his temerity. Mrs. Lamb was not a lady to quietly +endure impertinence from any one. As matters stood she was at +his mercy, a fact of which he was evidently aware. She had to +choke back her resentment as best she could. + +"How much do you mean to charge?" + +"There's twelve shillings for driving you; there's three for +waiting; there's five for myself--that's a sovereign." + +"A sovereign!--monstrous!" + +"Very well; there's no call for you to pay it. I tell you again, +I'll say good-night." + +Mr. Luker interposed. + +"How far is it?" + +"Better than five miles." + +"And how long will it take, in this delectable vehicle of yours, +to get us there?" + +"An hour or thereabouts. The road's none so good, and it's not +easy going on a night like this. It's thicker over yonder." + +"And for an hour, or thereabouts, I'm to be jolted, over a bad +road, through this death-like mist. Thank you; the prospect is +not inviting. I think we had better go over in the morning. +Where, in the neighbourhood, can we get a night's lodging?" + +"Nowhere." + +"Nowhere? Are you sure?" + +"If you think you know better than me you'd better go and look +for yourself. I tell you there's not a house round here where +they'd have you under the roof--nor her either. I wouldn't, nor +yet Mr. Harris, nor any one else." + +"This is delightful--thoroughly delightful." + +Anything less suggestive of delight than his tone could hardly +be imagined. The lady spoke. + +"I telegraphed to an old servant of mine, Martha Blair, to go up +to the house and to take some one with her, or if she couldn't +go herself then to get two other girls to go, to light fires and +to make things ready for my coming. Do you know who has gone?" + +"No one's gone; I do know that. You'd get no woman from round +here to go up to Pitmuir at night, especially if it was known +that you were coming." + +"Prospects grow more and more delightful." + +This was a groan from Mr. Luker. The lady, taking him by the +coat sleeve, began to talk to him in an undertone. The driver +promptly interrupted. + +"If you two are going to talk things over between yourselves you +can do it after I'm gone. I'm off; I've had enough of waiting, +so I'll wish you both good-night." + +The lady stopped him; she drew out her purse. + +"Here's a sovereign. Now drive us to Pitmuir, and be as quick as +you can." + +The man examined the coin as well as he could in such a light; +he even tested its quality with his teeth. Drawing a bag from +some mysterious receptacle inside his waistcoat, he untied a +piece of cord which tied it round the neck, placed the coin +carefully within, feeling it to make sure that it was, retied +the bag, and returned it to its place. These operations took +some time; before they were concluded his two passengers were +more tired of waiting than he was. Mrs. Lamb mounted to the seat +beside the driver. Mr. Luker scrambled into the vehicle itself. +There was nothing for him to do but to squat upon the floor, +making himself as comfortable as he could by leaning his back +against the side. Then the cart started. + +The driver had been perfectly correct in stating that it was not +a very good road. So far as could be judged in the mist and the +darkness, when one had to rely entirely on the sense of feeling, +it consisted for the most part of ruts and ditches. The springs +upon which the body of the cart was hung were not very +resilient, indeed they were rudimentary. Mrs. Lamb had all she +could do to keep on the seat; the gentleman behind was shaken in +such a style that he had traversed the whole interior of the +vehicle before he had gone two miles. Considering all things, it +was perhaps as well that the rate of progress was not more +rapid, though the driver had a somewhat disconcerting knack when +the road was excruciatingly bad of seeming to move faster than +was absolutely necessary, and when it was comparatively smooth +of going slower than he need. More than once Mrs. Lamb tried to +engage him in conversation, putting questions to him on subjects +on which she was particularly anxious to obtain information. She +desired to know if Nannie Foreshaw was still in the flesh; how +Dr. Twelves was getting on; if he yet practised, and so on. But +the man either paid no heed at all, or, if he replied, his +answers were of such an unsatisfactory nature, conveying such +extremely unflattering allusions, that the lady was finally +convinced that she had better remain, however unwillingly, in +ignorance than attempt to obtain enlightenment from such an +impossible quarter. She would have liked to have taken the +fellow suddenly by the shoulders and flung him out of the cart. +He would possibly have found her capable of doing it. More than +once she was on the point of making the effort, only an +overwhelming consciousness of the greatness of the issue which +was at stake restrained her. + +At last, after what seemed very much more than an hour's drive, +he brought the vehicle to a sudden stop. + +"You'll get out here," he intimated to them curtly. + +"Get out?" The lady peered about her through the mist and +darkness. "This is not the house." + +"Yon's Pitmuir." + +"Pitmuir? But I paid you to drive us to the house; I can see no +signs of it." + +"You did not. I'd not drive you to the house for a pocketful of +money." + +"What fresh trick are you going to try on now? And what +tomfoolery are you talking?" + +"It's tomfoolery maybe, and maybe it isn't. You said, carry you +to Pitmuir, and I've carried you. Do you know they say that +Cuthbert Grahame's walking about among the trees, waiting in the +avenue, looking for the woman who called herself his wife. Do +you think I'll take you to meet him? Not while I've my senses. +If you are set on meeting him, you'll not meet him in my +company--that's my last word. Yon's Pitmuir. That's the gate in +front, not a dozen yards from where we are--that's nearer than I +care for. You'll just both of you get out." + + + + + CHAPTER XXXII + + AT THE GATE + + +Verbal discussion was plainly useless; it was soon made +sufficiently clear that nothing short of physical force would +persuade that driver. Situated as they were it was not easy to +see how they could resort to that method of convincing him of +the error of his ways. Mrs. Lamb told him, with the lucidity of +which under such circumstances she was past mistress, what she +thought of him, and what treatment she would have accorded him +if the conditions had only been a little different. In a tongue +fight the man proved to be her match; he could pack at least as +many disagreeable allusions into a sentence as she could. For +ten minutes or a quarter of an hour they wrangled, then the +driver delivered himself of an ultimatum. + +"I'm not going to stay here all night listening to you. If you +won't get down I'll drive you back. Now which is it to be? I'm +off!" + +"Off! Yes, you are off, as I'll soon show you." + +She showed him there and then. Whirling round on her seat, she +gave the driver a sudden push; over he went on to the road. +Snatching the reins in one hand, the whip in the other, before +he quite knew what had happened, she was urging the horse to +pursue its onward career. + +"Stop! stop!" he yelled. "I'm under the wheel! You're driving +over me!" + +"Then if you don't want me to drive over you, you'll get from +under the wheel; I'm going on." + +"Are you? I'll teach you, you----!" + +The fellow's language was full-blooded. Scrambling up as best he +could, he made a vigorous attempt to board the vehicle and expel +her from the seat she had usurped. She was not disposed to +yield. Down came the whip upon his head and shoulders. There +ensued a lively few moments. + +"When you two have quite finished your little conversation +perhaps you'll let me know," groaned Mr. Luker from the rear. + +The "little conversation" came to a rapid, and, perhaps on the +whole, not surprising termination. The quadruped between the +shafts, an animal apparently of the cart-horse kind, was, also +apparently, a creature of an extremely patient disposition. But +even the most enduring patience has its limits; that horse +reached the end of his. Mrs. Lamb and the driver were, between +them, tugging at the reins in a fashion to which he was, no +doubt, entirely unaccustomed, while the whip-lash, when it +missed the driver, occasionally alighted on the animal's flanks. +Probably wholly at a loss to understand what was happening, not +unreasonably the creature finally made up his mind that he had +had enough of it, whatever it was. Suddenly the vehicle was set +in motion; both parties persisting in sticking to the reins, and +also, in a sense, to each other, the course steered was of the +most erratic kind. Before the horse had gone very far there was +a lurch which was more ominous than any which had gone before, +and they had been pregnant with meaning; the cart was turned +clean over; the three persons concerned were thrown out of it. +Mr. Luker was the first to give expression to his feelings. +Clinging to the side as the thing went over, he had alighted +with comparative gentleness on the ground. + +"I'm alive," he announced. "I don't know if any one else is." + +It seemed that the lady was in the same, so far as it went, +satisfactory condition. + +"There's not much the matter with me. I'm a bit shaken, and my +clothes are all anyhow; my hat's torn right off my head--but +that doesn't matter." + +"Where's the driver? Driver, where are you?" There was no +answer. "That extremely civil gentleman seems disposed to be a +little more silent than he was just now. Driver!" + +"It'll serve him right if he's killed. Hollo, I've just stepped +on him; he's lying on the road. Driver!" Still no answer. +"Stunned; lost his senses or something--not that he'd many +senses to lose--cantankerous brute!" + +"It's to be hoped that he hasn't lost them for ever, It'll be +awkward for us if he has--especially for you. Your popularity in +this neighbourhood does not appear to be so great that you can +afford to throw any of it away." + +"Confound my popularity! What do I care if I'm popular? If that +brute is killed he brought it on himself; if I'd wrung his neck +for him it'd have been no more than he deserved. I've got a +lantern in my bag. I knew what sort of a hole, and what sort of +beasts, I was coming to, and guessed that I'd better be prepared +for the worst. If it isn't smashed to splinters I'll light it +and have a look at him--you can see nothing in this darkness." + +The lantern was not broken. Presently its rays were illuminating +the surrounding gloom. She turned them on to the recumbent +figure, not showing too much sympathy as she did so. + +"Now then--move yourself! Don't pretend you're dead--I know +better." Possibly by way of exhibiting her superior knowledge, +she shook him by the shoulder. He groaned; she chose to +interpret the sound as having a favourable significance. "He's +not dead; he's all right. Broken a bone, or put his shoulder +out, or something. He won't hurt if we leave him here; we could +do nothing for him if we wanted to. Let's see what's happened to +the cart." + +It was not difficult to do that; the explanation of what had +occurred was almost painfully simple. The horse, influenced by +such eccentric guidance, had conducted the vehicle into a ditch. +The jolt of the sudden descent had loosened one of the wheels; +it lay in one direction, the cart in another. The question as to +whether they were or were not to drive in it up to the house was +finally settled. The horse, seemingly none the worse for his +little experience, making no attempt to get up, reclined at his +ease between the shafts, apparently under the not erroneous +impression that he was as comfortable there as anywhere else. +Mrs. Lamb recognised that, so far as any more riding was +concerned, the fates were against her. + +"We shall have to walk," she observed. "It's not so very far +from here, along the avenue. Here's the gate." + +She went to the gate, revealing its whereabouts by the light of +her lantern. Mr. Luker moving towards her, spoke in lowered +tones. + +"Without wishing to alarm you unnecessarily, or endorsing your +coachman's remarks about Mr. Cuthbert Grahrame's singular +habits, I may tell you that my impression is that if he isn't +walking about among the trees, somebody is." + +"Luker, don't talk like that! Don't be a fool." + +"If I weren't a fool I doubt if I should be here with you now; +but, apart from that, I can only inform you that for some time I +have had a suspicion that our movements were being observed by +some one among the trees, who can see us better than we could +see him, and who was taking a lively interest in all that was +occurring." + +"Luker, how do you know? How could you tell?" + +"By the sense of sound; I wasn't so absorbed in fighting the +driver. That some one, or something, has been moving among the +trees, keeping pace with us as we went, I'll swear, and I don't +think it was an animal." + +"Speak plainly; what do you mean?" + +"I think it possible that you and I are the objects of a +conspiracy--especially you. Every step you take you are walking +farther and farther into the trap which Miss Margaret Wallace +has set for you." + +"Don't talk rubbish! Have you got that old bee in your bonnet +again? I'm not afraid of Miss Margaret Wallace." + +"Aren't you? Then that's all right, because I fancy that her +agents are about you on every side." + +"Her agents? What do you mean by her agents?" + +"I imagine that Miss Margaret Wallace is more popular in this +part of the world than you are. I can put two and two together. +From what I've seen, and heard, since our arrival, I shouldn't +be surprised to learn that she has nobbled every creature in +the neighbourhood. The station-master has received a hint from +her--that explains the peculiarity of his manner; nothing else +could. That poor wretch lying on the ground has been acting on +her instructions. Don't you make any mistake; I'm sure of it. +I'm equally sure that other friends of hers are waiting for you +in there." + +He pointed over the gate, along the avenue. His words, far from +causing her alarm, seemed to act as a fillip. + +"Friends of hers upon my property!--if they dare! Do you +think that I'm afraid of what you call her friends?--of any +number of them?--of the tricks they've set themselves to play? +I'd like to see them; I'd like to meet them. This is my +property--mine!--every stick and stone on it! Neither Margaret +Wallace nor any one else has a right to set foot upon it without +my sanction. If I do find any trespassers I promise you that it +won't be me who'll come off worst. Are you coming? You +understand, if you're to earn that thousand pounds you're to +stick to me through thick and thin--to the end! If you show the +white feather, the bond is cancelled." + +"Are you going to accept the invitation of the spider to the +fly? You intend to walk into the trap?" + +"Trap! Do you think that any trap was ever set that could catch +me? I believe you're talking the purest piffle; but if there is +a trap, and I do walk into it, it'll be to smash it all to +pieces. Once more, are you coming?" + +"Oh, I'm coming. I'll do my best to earn the thousand, though +I'm beginning to perceive that it wants more earning than I +supposed. Lead on; where you lead I'll not only follow, I'll +keep as close to your side as circumstances permit." + +She threw the gate wide open. It swung back on its rusty hinges +with a harsh, creaking sound. Then they entered the avenue, the +lantern swinging in her hand. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIII + + AT THE DOOR + + +Between the trees the darkness was as if you might have cut it. +Where the lantern looked there were momentary revelations as +they strode along. Its rays seemed to cut pieces out of the +surrounding gloom. But the pieces were small. Its penetrating +power was slight; where its penetration ceased the darkness was +blacker than before. The silence which prevailed had its own +peculiar property; it served to exaggerate the slightest +disturbance. Their very footsteps were differentiated with an +almost morbid clearness. The firm, resolute descent of the +woman's foot, the loose, indeterminate shuffle of the man's; the +sounds seemed to set themselves against each other and to ring +through the trees. They gradually became conscious of the +movements of unseen creatures among the grasses and the herbage, +disturbed by their approach. Once she observed, as she swung the +lantern to one side-- + +"That's a rabbit. There used to be thousands of them when I was +here. I expect there are more now. I daresay the whole place is +overrun with them." + +"It may be a rabbit, though, with due deference to your superior +woodcraft, I doubt if there are many rabbits abroad at this hour +of the night----But that's not!" + +"What? Where?" + +"Are there deer about the place as well?" + +"Deer? I don't think so. I don't remember seeing any." + +"Then give me the lantern!" + +Mrs. Lamb was holding the lantern out in front of her. Snatching +it, he swung it slightly round. As he did so it went out. + +"Luker!" she exclaimed. "How did you manage that? What a clumsy +fool you are!" + +There was a new intonation in his voice. + +"Some one blew it out. Hollo, where are you coming to? Who the +devil, sir, are you? Confound the man, where's he gone?" + +"Luker, what's the matter?" + +"Some one was walking behind us--didn't you hear him? I not only +heard but I felt him; he was as close as that. When I swung the +lantern round I almost dashed it against his face. He blew it +out. He tried to snatch it from me; I felt his fingers. Can you +hear him?" + +"Is that a footstep?" + +"He stepped upon a twig. There's more than one. I tell you +they're all round us. The lantern serves as a beacon; they can +see us though we can't see them." + +They were speaking in whispers. + +"Is that another footstep?" + +"Curse the fellow, I believe he's still within three or four +feet of us. I believe I heard him breathe. I've a revolver in my +pocket; I've half a mind----" + +"I also have a revolver, and I've a whole mind. Look out! I'm +going to fire!" + +There was a flash; a report which seemed to wake the echoes of +the forest for miles and miles; then a scream which rose high +above the echoes, and seemed to hang quivering in, and rending, +the silent air. The stillness which again ensued was rendered +the more striking by its contrast with the previous turmoil. + +"You've shot some one." + +"Not I!--that wasn't a man. I shouldn't be surprised if it was +some kind of a bird. There are birds in these woods which make +noises at night which go right through you. Where's your +friend?" + +"I'll strike a match and try to get a light again. You cover me +while I'm doing it." + +The instant the match flickered into flame there was a crashing +sound among the bushes as of a heavy object in headlong flight. + +"There he is! He's making off! I'll have another pop at him!" + +Again a revolver clamoured, but this time there was no answering +sound, only stillness followed. Luker had succeeded in lighting +the lantern. He held it well out. Together they peered into the +cave of light which it hollowed out in front of them. It was +broken by trees, by bushes, by bracken, but, so far as they +could see, by nothing else. Luker spoke in a whisper. + +"He's gone. They're too much for us, and too many. For all we +can tell there's some one behind each of those trees; they're +all of them big enough to shelter a man. This kind of thing's a +new experience to me--altogether out of my usual line. It's a +job for which I have no sort of stomach. What the game is I +don't know, but it's one in which all the odds are against us--I +do know that. I wish to the devil I'd stayed in town!" + +"You didn't; you've come down into the country with me, and in +the country for the present you've got to stay. Give me that +lantern, and don't you snatch at it again. Whoever blows it out +while I've got hold of it will be clever. Pretend to be a man, +even if you aren't one. As for that game about which you're +talking, if there is one on, I promise you that whoever scores +in it, I shall." + +They continued their progress, the lady again holding the +lantern, moving onwards with her long, regular strides, swinging +it a little as she walked. Mr. Luker, shuffling alongside, +seemed to be unwilling to drop behind, and to find it difficult +to keep up with her. As he went he glanced continually from side +to side, and over his shoulder at the darkness which followed +them. There was no attempt on either side at conversation, they +simply went straight on. + +They had gone some distance without anything happening to +occasion them further concern, when the lady came to a sudden +stop. + +"Here we are!" she exclaimed. "That's the house in front of us." +She held out the lantern, so that its farthest rays just touched +a building which loomed mysteriously in the blackness. There was +a note of triumph in her voice as she went on. "Luker, you're +nearer to that thousand pounds than you perhaps think, and in a +very few minutes I'll be within reach of that quarter of a +million. Then I'll show them!--all the lot of them!" + +Quite what she meant by that last vague threat she only knew. +Before she had a chance to offer an explanation, if it was her +intention to offer one, she was interrupted by Mr. Luker, who +seemed destined that night to act as a harbinger of coming evil. + +"What's that?" he cried. "Who--my God!--who is this coming along +the path?" + +He was not only shrinking as close to her as he could get, he +was gripping her arm with convulsive fingers, which she could +feel were trembling. He was looking in one direction, she in +another. She turned to see what he was staring at; when she saw, +it is possible that she began to be in a less exultant mood. + +Some one, something, was moving along the avenue and coming +towards them. It was not easy to determine what it was; it came +and went. It was rendered visible by a light which seemed to +emanate from its own body, as if it were a kind of +phosphorescence. When the light gleamed it was there plainly, if +dimly, to be seen; when the light ceased to gleam, it--the +something!--seemed to go with it; there was nothing but the +black darkness. This continued, this coming and going, for +perhaps thirty seconds. Then, suddenly, the light not only grew +brighter, it remained. They could see what the something was--it +was a man. But what a man! A huge, unwieldy, bloated, shapeless +creature, covered from head to foot with some white garment +which was swathed round him like a sheet. He seemed to be +floating, rather than walking. They could see no movement of his +limbs, and yet he came steadily towards them until he was within +five or six feet of where they were standing, when the light +faded as suddenly as it had come, and there was nothing but +darkness there. + +For some instants they remained motionless, both being probably +under the impression that though the figure was no longer +visible it still was advancing towards them. While they waited, +on the alert to discover what was next about to happen, the +silence was broken by a curious noise, as by a series of quick, +broken gasps, as if some one panted, struggled, for breath. + +When all again was still, Mr. Luker asked, in a tone of voice in +which was what sounded uncommonly like a note of banter-- + +"Well, my friend, aren't we to see any more of you? Is that the +end of the performance? Won't you favour us with another private +view?" + +In Mrs. Lamb's voice, on the other hand, there was a suggestion +of preternatural gravity. + +"It was Cuthbert Grahame." + +"What?" + +"It was Cuthbert Grahame. Didn't you hear him fighting for +breath?" + +"Cuthbert fiddlesticks! It was some damned trick, and not over +well done either. This entertainment has been prepared for our +special benefit; it occurs to me that it has been insufficiently +rehearsed. We've been treated to the first part up to now; the +second part is waiting for us inside the house--if we ever get +as far. The prelude's been mere foolery. I imagine that the +serious business is to come." + +"It was Cuthbert Grahame." + +"Nonsense! Where were your eyes, not to speak of your senses? +Didn't you notice----" + +"He is waiting for us inside the house." + +"Mrs. Lamb, if you'll exercise a little common-sense and allow +me to finish, I think I shall be able to prove, even to your +satisfaction, that what you've just now witnessed----" + +"Don't you see him? He beckons to us. Can't you hear how hard he +fights for his breath?" + +"No; nor you either. Aren't you well? Is this one of those fits +of which you were telling me trying to come back, in which you +see things? If so, keep it off as long as you conveniently can. +So far as I'm concerned it will only need that to put a crown +and climax on my night's enjoyment. Listen to me, Isabel----" + +"Come!" Taking him by the arm, she led him up to the house. When +they reached the front door she took a key out of the bag which +she still carried. After a momentary hesitation she held it up, +as if to call his attention to something that was taking place +within. "Listen! Don't you hear? He calls to us! Let us go to +him. I've often heard him calling to me like that in the +night--often." + +During the last few seconds, for some occult reason, a change +had taken place in her which had apparently revolutionised the +whole woman externally as well as internally; her bearing, her +manner, her voice, and especially her face, had changed. The +alteration in the latter was nothing short of amazing. Just now +its predominating expression was one of boldness, defiance, +reckless rage. She had looked as if she feared neither man nor +devil; her looks had probably only mirrored her actual feelings. +This air of wildness, of careless contempt for the unknown, +unseen perils, which, according to her companion, hemmed her in +on every side, had been accentuated by the fact that, having +lost her hat when the cart was overturned, her thick black hair +had broken loose from its fastenings and hung in tangled masses +about her face. She had looked what she emphatically was, a +dangerous woman in a dangerous frame of mind. Now all that had +changed. She looked no longer angry or defiant; all traces of +boldness had vanished altogether. Instead, a stolid, fixed +expression had come upon her face, one which, as it were, was +void of all expression. In her wide-open eyes there was a +strained, staring look, which conveyed an uncomfortable +impression that she was gazing at something which only she could +see, gazing with a fixed intensity of vision as if she was bent +on not losing even the minutest details. + +As she stood there, with uplifted face, the rays of the lantern +lighting up her rigid features, Mr. Luker observed her with an +appearance of unmistakable discomfort. The significance of the +change which had taken place in her was borne in on him with +uncomfortable force. The change in her affected him; he was +obviously becoming each second more uneasy. He seemed to make a +desperate attempt to conquer his own increasing apprehension, +and to restore her to her former state of mind. + +"Isabel, you didn't use to be an utter fool. Before you put that +key into the lock, before you move another step, rub that look +of stark, staring midsummer madness off your face. It doesn't +become you, God knows. Listen to what I have to say; try not to +be a fool. Don't you understand----" + +Before he could explain what was the appeal he was about to make +to her understanding, some one, or something, came swirling at +them from the side of the house. The light disappeared in the +lantern; the lantern itself was snatched from the lady's hands. +She made no effort to regain it, nor to ascertain how the thing +had happened. She stood in the darkness, motionless. Presently +she said-- + +"Luker! Luker!" + +There was no answer. She put out her hand to feel for her +companion who, a moment before, had been standing close at her +side. He was not there. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIV + + TOWARDS JUDGMENT + + +For possibly a couple of minutes she continued on the doorstep +immobile, as if she not only did not understand what had +happened, but as if she also still failed to realise that her +legal adviser was at least no longer where he was. She repeated +his name, at intervals--"Luker! Luker!"--almost as if she was a +child who repeated, parrot-like, a meaningless formula. Then, +after a while, when still there came no answer, she thrust her +hand, as if mechanically, into the bosom of her dress, feeling +for something. Presently it emerged, holding a flask. In the +same odd, automatic fashion, as if her actions were not the +product of her own volition, unscrewing the stopper, she placed +the neck between her lips. After a perceptible interval, +suddenly slipping between her fingers, it dropped on to the step +with a clatter. It had contained ether; she had swallowed its +entire contents. + +What were the exact physical or mental results of what would +have been a poison to an unaccustomed subject, it would be +difficult to say. One fact may be baldly stated, it robbed her +of her senses. Her capacity of judging between the real and the +unreal had been trembling in the balance. When she emptied that +flask unreality became all that was real. Not perhaps on the +instant, but certainly after the expiration of a very few +seconds. + +At first she stood trembling, so that one might almost have +expected to see her sink to the ground from sheer inability to +stand. She stretched out her arms into the darkness, as if +seeking for support, and found none. Then, putting her hands up +to her face, she began to rub them up and down before her eyes, +as if endeavouring to rub away some film which obscured her +sight, and she began to cry, softly, beneath her breath. Then, +dropping her hands to her sides, she began to see the things +which were not, those visions which, in some form, are the +inseparable companions of a mind diseased. + +"I am coming!--I heard you!--you need not call so loud!" + +The words were uttered not loudly, but with such clearness of +intonation that, proceeding from her as she stood there all +alone in the outer darkness, and addressed apparently to the +circumambient air, they might have produced on unintentional +listeners not an agreeable effect. She turned, making as if to +insert the key which she still held into the lock of the door +behind her, to find that the door already stood wide open, and +that in the hall beyond there was a faint light which was just +sufficient to render objects visible. + +In her normal condition the fact that the door had seemingly +opened of its own accord would have occasioned her something +more than wonder; she would at least have taken it for granted +that somewhere in its immediate neighbourhood were helping +hands; and she would promptly have set herself to discover to +whom they belonged, and just where their owners might be found. +In her then state no notion of the kind seemed to enter her +brain. That the fact that the door was open occasioned her +surprise was obvious; but it was surprise of a singular quality, +and it was accompanied by abject terror. The woman seemed all at +once to become stunted, to shrink into sheer physical +insignificance. + +"Cuthbert Grahame," she muttered, "why did you open the door? +How did you get out of your bed to open the door?" With a sound +which was part wail, part sob, she stumbled across the threshold +into the hall. "Where shall I go? Shall I go into the room into +which I first went on that first night? Perhaps I'll be safe in +there--perhaps I'll be safe. I don't want to go upstairs--not +yet--not just yet. I daren't--I daren't. Listen! how he calls to +me--how he calls." + +She glanced up the staircase, which she approached even while +she shrank from it, and she saw, in the dim, mysterious light, +leaning over the banister, looking down at her from above, a +woman's face--Nannie Foreshaw. She did not stop to ask herself +if the appearance might by any chance be real, a creature of +warm flesh and blood. It was some moments before she realised +who it was that looked at her. When she did, the presence there +was so unexpected, so wholly unforeseen, and thrust so deeply at +her conscience, that it is not impossible that the mere shock +which resulted from the sight was sufficient to disintegrate her +few remaining wits. She at once took it for granted that she was +gazing at a spectre, a shade returned from the tomb to afflict +her before her time. Cowering back against the wall, she broke +into screams of agony. + +"Nannie! Nannie!--I didn't kill you!--I didn't kill you! Don't +look at me like that!--don't! don't! don't!" Covering her face +with her hands, she began to sob with such violence that one +could see her shaking as she leaned against the wall. When, +removing her hands, she again ventured to look up, there was no +one there. "She's gone! she's gone!" + +The words were uttered with a gasp of relief which it was not +pleasant to hear. For a moment it seemed as if she might be +restored to something like her proper self. Then, while she +seemed to waver, without apparent rhyme or reason, all her +tremors returned. Again she broke into shrieks and cries. + +"She's waiting for me in his room! in his room! in his +room!--she's waiting for me! My God! what am I to do?--help +me! help me! I'll have to go to him. Listen how he calls to +me!--listen how he calls! I'm coming!--don't call so loud!" She +began stumbling up the staircase, blunderingly, blindly, as if +she could not see where she was going. Stopping every two or +three steps, clutching at the wall, the rails; glancing back, +looking as though if she could she would descend. But each time, +just as she was about to beat a retreat, there came to her that +insistent voice, summoning her to her fate. She gasped out +expostulations even as she stumbled upwards. "Don't call so +loud! don't call so loud! I'm coming." + +And she did come. A singular spectacle she presented as she +went. No one would have recognised in that ill-shaped, mouthing, +struggling woman--though she alone knew what it was with which +she struggled; who seemed unable to stand up straight, and to +experience as much difficulty in ascending an ordinary staircase +as if it had been the scarred surface of some precipitous cliff +which she was forced, very much against her will, to climb--the +flamboyant and somewhat overwhelming lady who was known among a +certain set in London as the handsome Mrs. Lamb. There were no +traces of beauty about her then. + +When she had gained the landing her terror seemed, if the thing +were possible, to increase. Descending to her knees, clutching +the railing with both hands, she crawled, as if drawn by some +invisible force, against which all the strength of her +resistance was in vain, towards the room, the bedroom, in which +Cuthbert Grahame had passed so much of the latter part of his +life, and in which, through her action, he had died. And all the +while she protested. + +"I won't come! I won't come!" For an instant she would cling not +only with her hands, but, as it were, with her whole body, to +the railings, as if she had finally resolved that nothing should +constrain her to advance another inch. Then again she was +possessed by a paroxysm of terror. "I will come!--don't call so +loud! I am coming!" + +When she was in front of the door of the room she did halt for +perhaps more than a minute, crouching in a heap on the floor, +covering her face with her hands, overtaken by such a fury of +weeping that the violence of her sobs seemed as if it would tear +her to pieces. Then, as if actuated by some sudden irresistible +impulse, she rose to her feet, and exclaimed, still weeping-- + +"Cuthbert Grahame, I hear you calling--I am here". + +She threw open the dead man's bedroom door. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXV + + JUDGES + + +In the room was the same faint, luminous glow which had been +noticeable in the hall and on the stairs. There could have +been no more eloquent testimony of her condition than the fact +that she accepted its presence as a matter of course; that it +never seemed to occur to her that there was something about +it which required elucidation; still less that a few shrewd, +well-directed inquiries might result in a very simple +explanation. She stood on the threshold, all dishevelled, bent, +weeping; always before her eyes the things which she alone could +see, stricken with a mad agony of fear by the horror of the +sight. + +She came a little farther towards the room, staring towards the +bed. When she had taken a step or two it seemed as if her legs +refused to uphold her any longer. Down she sank on to her knees +again; again she covered her face with her hands, as if by such +means she could shut off from herself the hideous imaginings of +her haunted brain. + +"Don't! don't! don't!" she wailed. + +While still she remained in that attitude of humility and +penitence there came a voice which called her by what had once +been her name. + +"Isabel Burney!" + +That she heard it there could be no doubt. At the sound of it +she shivered more than ever. But it may be that she was in doubt +whether it was a material voice, or whether it was a fresh +manifestation of those too-well remembered tones, which kept +calling to her all the time. For it is possible that a +disordered mind may be conscious that there is a difference +between the real and the imaginary without being capable of +satisfactorily perceiving what it is. She did not answer. It +came again, not loud, yet distinct and dominating. + +"Isabel Burney." + +This time she repeated her former wail, with renewed force of +entreaty. + +"Don't! don't!" + +If it was intended for a cry of appeal to be left alone, it went +unheeded. The voice returned, asking what was emphatically a +leading question. + +"Did you murder Cuthbert Grahame?" + +She made not the slightest attempt to shirk the very weighty +responsibility which attended the reply to such a question. An +affirmative was bursting from her lips almost before it was +asked. + +"Yes! yes! yes!" + +"How did you murder him?" + +Again the wail-- + +"Don't! don't! don't!" + +"How did you murder him?" + +The wail became hysterical cries. + +"Oh! oh! oh!" + +But the voice persisted. + +"How did you murder him?" + +Confused words came stumbling from her lips, as if they were +being forcibly extracted. + +"The pillows--dragged---from under--he choked." + +"You dragged the pillows from under him, so that his head fell +down, and he was choked." + +"Yes." + +"Why did you murder him?" + +Here again the answer came rapidly and clearly. + +"Because I didn't want him to destroy the will which I had +tricked him into signing." + +"How did you trick him?" + +"He made me draw up a will which left all his property to +Margaret Wallace." + +"And then?" + +"I drew up a will in which he left everything to me." + +"And then?" + +"I covered it with a sheet of paper, and got him to sign it, +thinking that he was signing the other." + +"Did he know what you had done?" + +"Yes; I killed him before he could tell any one else and have +the will destroyed." + +The voice was still. There was silence, broken by the sound of +some one moving. The room was filled with a bright light. The +voice came again. + +"Isabel Burney!" + +The woman on her knees, dropping her hands, looked round. By a +lighted lamp which rested on a writing-table stood Margaret +Wallace. Whether Mrs. Lamb realised that she was looking at the +girl herself, or supposed that she was confronted by a +materialised phantom, has never been certainly known. She stared +at her surlily, unblinkingly, affrightedly, as one might stare +at some unpleasing object in a dream. The girl repeated the +questions which had already been answered. As one listened the +last remnants of doubt vanished as to whose was the voice which +had already made itself so prominent. + +"Did you trick Cuthbert Grahame into signing a will in which he +left all that he had to you, when he supposed himself to be +signing one in which he left it all to me?" + +There was a momentary hesitation, then the answer, spoken +sullenly, half beneath her breath, yet plain enough. + +"Yes; I did." + +"And did you then kill him because you feared discovery of what +you had done?" + +"Yes; I did." + +There was another movement on the other side of the room. When +Mrs. Lamb looked round she found herself looking at Dr. Twelves, +who put a question to her on his own account. + +"So you lied to me when you said those pillows must have +slipped--you knew better. As I suspected, you dragged them +away--you female fiend!" + +His invective went unnoticed; there came the rather monotonous +refrain-- + +"Yes; I did". + +There were other movements proceeding from all parts of the +room. On one side of her were Andrew McTavish and his partner, +Mr. Brown. Mr. McTavish was evidently very angry. + +"And you lied to us when you pretended that you suspected us of +robbing you! You knew all along that the only robbery you +yourself had committed--you impudent swindler!" + +He only received the same reply-- + +"Yes; I did". + +Dr. Twelves wagged his finger at her, gruesomely. + +"You shall hang for it, Isabel Burney--you shall hang by the +neck until you're dead!" + +Mr. McTavish cried-- + +"At any rate, you shall be sent to penal servitude for the fraud +you have committed on us!" + +She showed no signs of resentment, as only a very short time +before she undoubtedly would have done, when her resentment +would probably have taken a sufficiently active turn. From her +demeanour it was difficult to determine if she comprehended what +was being said to her. She gazed stolidly about the room. Near a +window stood Nannie Foreshaw, leaning on a stick, holding with +one hand the curtain from behind which she had just emerged. At +sight of her she shrank backwards, as if she would withdraw +herself as far as she could. Before the door, as if he would bar +her retreat, was Harry Talfourd. When she saw him she seemed to +be moved more than she had been by any of the others; she turned +aside, with a low cry, and covered her face. Possibly, in some +tangled fashion, she remembered how, so recently, she had played +to him the _rôle_ of the great lady, the benefactress; how +willing she had been to be something more to him than that; and +she was vaguely conscious of what a contrast she was exhibiting +to him now. + +Margaret had been seated at a table writing. Now, rising, she +turned to the woman who was still on her knees upon the floor. + +"I have set down upon this sheet of paper a short confession of +your guilt. If you will sign it you shall not hang; you shall +not be sent to prison. You shall receive your only punishment +from your own conscience. I think that is to condemn you to the +greater punishment. I will read to you what I have written." + +She read aloud from the paper which she took in her hand:-- + +"'I confess that Cuthbert Grahame instructed me to draw up a +will in which he left all that he had in the world to Margaret +Wallace; that, without his knowledge, I substituted for it +another form of will, according to which he left his property to +me, and that I induced him to sign this fraudulent form by means +of a trick. I also confess that I murdered Cuthbert Grahame in +order to avoid an exposure of the trick by means of which I had +induced him to sign the substituted fraudulent form of will.' If +you will attach your name to this confession you shall receive +no punishment beyond that which you award yourself--that will be +a sufficient one. Come here and sign." + +As if automatically, Mrs. Lamb rose to her feet, moved towards +the table, seated herself on the chair which Margaret had +occupied, accepted the pen which the girl offered, and wrote her +name in full on the sheet of paper which was set before her. +When she had signed, leaning back, she looked from one to the +other. They waited for her to speak, expecting perhaps some +burst of tardy anger. Then, on a sudden, without a word or a +movement, she slid from the chair on to the floor. When they +gathered round her she lay still. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVI + + PLEASANT DREAMS! + + +The duel had been fought to a finish, and Margaret had won. + +When Mrs. Gregory Lamb was brought back out of that fit by which +she had been overtaken she was lying on Cuthbert Grahame's bed, +on which he had lived for so long, and died at her hand; the bed +whose image had been borne in upon her phantom-haunted brain +with such horrible persistency. Dr. Twelves was bending over +her, standing where he had stood many a time to bend over the +man she slew. She was little better than a babbling idiot. She +is not much more than that now. She is a certified lunatic, +under kindly, yet watchful, guardianship, the expense of which +is paid by the girl whom she so cruelly wronged. + +The physical and mental strain which had been placed upon her +during that period of increasing financial pressure had been +great; her attempts to relieve it by a resort to ether had made +it ten times greater. How much of the spirit she drank has not +been exactly ascertained. She must have consumed large +quantities. Probably only the natural strength of her +constitution enabled her to resist its effects so long as she +did. Undoubtedly the habit of ether drinking had increased in +her to such an extent that in any case it would ultimately have +produced insanity. Her reason was already tottering when she was +brought face to face with Margaret Wallace on the night of her +reception, and was put to such dire confusion. It is believed +that she touched no solid food afterwards, subsisting solely +upon ether. Isaac Luker asserted that she carried a large bottle +of it in her bag when they journeyed together from London, and +was sipping its contents throughout the day. + +It was not strange that when the moment came she was ripe to +fall a ready victim to Margaret's carefully laid lures. The girl +fought her with weapons to which she was incapable of offering +resistance. + +Cuthbert Grahame's money, which had been searched for so long in +vain, was found deposited in the hiding-place the secret of +which she had revealed to Mrs. Lamb, intending, by working on +her guilty conscience and so extorting from her a confession, +which it was certain could never be obtained from her by any +other means, to destroy her when she went to seek it. Margaret +is now Mrs. Henry Talfourd. She is married to one who loved and +loves her, and for the love of whom she was willing to sacrifice +all. She is a rich woman. Bearing in mind the singularity of the +circumstances under which it has come into her possession, she +was desirous of having nothing to do with the dead man's money. +But it was pointed out that, excepting herself, there was no +possible claimant. She regards herself as an almoner, as a +steward of Cuthbert Grahame's great possessions rather than +their owner, and employs by far the larger portion of the income +they produce in works of benefaction. She still produces +pictures in black and white and in colour; there are few women +artists who have achieved a more substantial success. + +Her husband has not realised his dreams. "The Gordian Knot" has +never been produced. He burnt the play with his own hands, and +has never written another. He alone knows why, though his wife +may have a shrewd suspicion. So far he has been content to act +as his wife's right-hand man, an occupation which hitherto has +kept him fully employed. + +Dr. Twelves lives and flourishes. He has been heard to declare +that never again will he proffer assistance to any strange woman +whom he finds by the wayside. Nannie Foreshaw is dead. Messrs. +McTavish & Brown have, if anything, improved their standing as +family solicitors of undoubted integrity; Mrs. Talfourd is one +of their most valued clients. + +Mrs. Talfourd presented Mr. Gregory Lamb with a passage to South +Africa, and with a sum of money when he landed. As he has never +asked for any more money, and nothing has been heard of him +since, the presumption is that he has perished in that grave of +many reputations. His wife's solicitor continues to exist, and +is still a very well-known gentleman in certain extremely +crooked walks of life. + +Cuthbert Grahame's home has been turned into a sanatorium and +holiday home for children. It could hardly be employed for a +better purpose. Boys and girls scamper among the trees; their +voices and their laughter ring through the house. They people it +with fresh associations; the old ghosts are gone. They find +health and happiness in the place where once was neither. And +when, at night, they lay their tired heads upon their pillows, +they dream only pleasant dreams. When they wake in the morning, +whether actually the skies be fair or clouded, to them it is +always as if the sun was shining. + + + + THE ABERDEEN UNIVERSITY PRESS LIMITED + + + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Duel, by Richard Marsh + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DUEL *** + +***** This file should be named 38054-8.txt or 38054-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/0/5/38054/ + +Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books + +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: A Duel + +Author: Richard Marsh + +Release Date: November 18, 2011 [EBook #38054] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DUEL *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<p class="hang1">Transcriber's Note:<br> + + +1. Page scan source:<br> + +http://books.google.com/books?id=szQPAAAAQAAJ</p> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2>A DUEL</h2> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<table style="width:50%; margin-left:25%; font-weight:bold"> +<tr> +<td><h4>BY THE SAME AUTHOR</h4></td> +</tr><tr> +<td style="line-height:200%"> +The Beetle: A Mystery<br> + +Garnered<br> + +A Metamorphosis<br> + +The Twickenham Peerage<br> + +Both Sides of the Veil<br> + +The Seen and the Unseen<br> + +Marvels and Mysteries<br> + +Miss Arnott's Marriage<br> + +The Goddess: a Demon<br> + +The Joss: a Reversion<br> + +The Crime and the Criminal +</td></tr></table> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h1>A DUEL</h1> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h5>BY</h5> +<h2>RICHARD MARSH</h2> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h4>METHUEN & CO.<br> + +36 ESSEX STREET W.C.<br> + +LONDON</h4> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h5><i>First published</i>, 1904</h5> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<br> + + +<h3><a name="div1Ref_book1" href="#div1_book1">BOOK I.--<span class="sc">Wife</span></a></h3> +<br> + + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_01" href="#div1_01">CHAPTER I</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">The End of the Honeymoon.</span></p> +<br> + + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_02" href="#div1_02">CHAPTER II</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">An Offer of Marriage.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_03" href="#div1_03">CHAPTER III</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Whom God hath Joined.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_04" href="#div1_04">CHAPTER IV</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">A Second Honeymoon.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_05" href="#div1_05">CHAPTER V</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">A Conversation with the Doctor.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_06" href="#div1_06">CHAPTER VI</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Husband and Wife.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_07" href="#div1_07">CHAPTER VII</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">A Tug of War.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_08" href="#div1_08">CHAPTER VIII</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">The Miniature.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_09" href="#div1_09">CHAPTER IX</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">The Sliding Panel.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_10" href="#div1_10">CHAPTER X</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">The Girl at the Door.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_11" href="#div1_11">CHAPTER XI</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Hot Water.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_12" href="#div1_12">CHAPTER XII</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Signing the Will.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_13" href="#div1_13">CHAPTER XIII</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">The Encounter in the Wood.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_14" href="#div1_14">CHAPTER XIV</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">In Cuthbert Grahame's Room.</span></p> +<br> + +<br> + + +<h3><a name="div1Ref_book2" href="#div1_book2">BOOK II.--<span class="sc">The Widow</span></a></h3> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_15" href="#div1_15">CHAPTER XV</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">"The Gordian Knot".</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_16" href="#div1_16">CHAPTER XVI</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Margaret is Puzzled.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_17" href="#div1_17">CHAPTER XVII</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">An Unexpected Visitor.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_18" href="#div1_18">CHAPTER XVIII</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Cronies.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_19" href="#div1_19">CHAPTER XIX</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">In Council.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_20" href="#div1_20">CHAPTER XX</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">The Impending Sword.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_21" href="#div1_21">CHAPTER XXI</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Out of the Blue.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_22" href="#div1_22">CHAPTER XXII</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Margaret Settles the Question.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_23" href="#div1_23">CHAPTER XXIII</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Margaret Resolves to Fight.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_24" href="#div1_24">CHAPTER XXIV</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">The Interior.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_25" href="#div1_25">CHAPTER XXV</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Alarums and Excursions.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_26" href="#div1_26">CHAPTER XXVI</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Solicitor and Client.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_27" href="#div1_27">CHAPTER XXVII</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Pure Ether.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_28" href="#div1_28">CHAPTER XXVIII</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Mr. Lamb in a Communicative Mood.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_29" href="#div1_29">CHAPTER XXIX</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Margaret Pays a Call.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_30" href="#div1_30">CHAPTER XXX</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Mrs. Lamb in Search of Advice.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_31" href="#div1_31">CHAPTER XXXI</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Mrs. Lamb Returns to Pitmuir.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_32" href="#div1_32">CHAPTER XXXII</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">At the Gate.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_33" href="#div1_33">CHAPTER XXXIII</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">At the Door.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_34" href="#div1_34">CHAPTER XXXIV</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Towards Judgment.</span></p> +<br> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_35" href="#div1_35">CHAPTER XXXV</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Judges.</span></p> + +<h4><a name="div1Ref_36" href="#div1_36">CHAPTER XXXVI</a></h4> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Pleasant Dreams!</span></p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_book1" href="#div1Ref_book1">BOOK I</a></h2> + +<h3>WIFE</h3> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h1>A DUEL</h1> +<br> + + +<h2><a name="div1_01" href="#div1Ref_01">CHAPTER I</a></h2> + +<h3>THE END OF THE HONEYMOON</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">Isabel waited till the rat-tat was repeated a second time, then +she went down to the front door. Since Mrs. Macconichie and her +husband were both out, and she had the house to herself, there +was nothing else for her to do, unless she wished the postman to +depart with the letters. As it was, when she appeared at the +door, he grumbled at being delayed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"These Scotchmen are all boors," she told herself, in her +bitterness.</p> + +<p class="normal">She looked at the letter which had been thrust into her hand. It +was addressed to "Mr. G. Lamb". The sight of it reopened the +fountains of her scorn.</p> + +<p class="normal">"They might at least have put G. Lamb, Esq. G. Lamb! What a +fool I've been!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Further consideration of the envelope led her to the conclusion +that it was the letter they had both been waiting for--the +answer to her husband's plea for help. She pressed it between +her fingers to learn, if possible by the sense of touch, what +the envelope contained.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I believe there's only a letter--no cheque, nor anything. If +there isn't, then we are done."</p> + +<p class="normal">She hesitated a moment, then tore it open. It contained merely a +sheet of common writing-paper, on the front page of which was +this brief note:--</p> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">"<span class="sc">Dear Gregory</span>,</p> + +<p style="text-indent:10%">"I like the idea of your asking me to help you. You've had all +the help you'll ever have from me. The shop won't bear it; +business is getting worse. If it weren't, you'd get no more +money out of me.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You'd better get your wife to keep you.</p> + +<p style="text-indent:40%">"<span class="sc">Susan Lamb</span>."</p> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">Susan Lamb! That was his mother, the mother of the man she had +married. So the truth was out at last. His mother kept a shop; +he had been sponging on her for the money he had scattered +broadcast. There was neither address nor date upon the letter, +but the postmark on the envelope was Islington. Islington! His +mother was a small shopkeeper in that haunt of the needy clerk! +And she had believed him when he had posed before her as a +"swell"--an aristocrat; when he had talked about his "coin" and +his "gees". He had jockeyed her into supposing that money was a +matter of complete indifference to him; that, as she boasted to +her friends and rivals, "he rolled in it". So successfully had +he hoodwinked her that she married him within a month of their +first meeting--she, Belle Burney, the queen of song and dance! +Had thrown up all her engagements to do it, too; and she was +beginning to get some engagements which were not to be despised.</p> + +<p class="normal">At the commencement he had done things in style: had taken her +up to Edinburgh, leisurely, in a motor. She had imagined that +the motor was his own. At Edinburgh it vanished; he told her to +receive some trifling repairs. But she, having already +discovered he was a liar, suspected him of having sold it. Later +she learned that the machine had only been hired for a +fortnight.</p> + +<p class="normal">Already, at Edinburgh, money began to run short. He did his best +to conceal from her the state of the case, but the thing was so +obvious that his attempts at concealment were vain. He had lied +bravely, protesting that, in some inexplicable way, his +remittances had gone wrong; that in the course of a post or two +he would be in possession of an indefinitely large sum of money. +The posts came and went, but they brought no money. So they +drifted hither and thither, each time to humbler quarters. Now, +within six weeks of marriage, they were stranded at a remote +spot in Forfarshire, within a drive of Carnoustie. Isabel had +reason to suspect that, at the time of their marriage, her +husband had less than two hundred pounds in the world. He had +squandered more than that already; the motor had made a hole in +it. The pawnbroker had come to the rescue when the coin was +gone. They were penniless; owed for a week's food and lodging; +their landlady was already showing signs of anxiety. Now the +much-talked-of and long-expected letter had arrived which was to +bring the munificent remittance.</p> + +<p class="normal">It turned out to be half-a-dozen lines from his shopkeeping +mother, who declined to advance him a single stiver!</p> + +<p class="normal">When the young wife realised, or thought she realised, all that +the curt epistle meant, she told herself that now indeed the +worst had come. She had just had another bitter scene with her +husband; had, in fact, driven him out into the night before the +tempest of her scorn and opprobrium. The landlady had departed +on an errand of her own. Isabel told herself that now, if ever, +an opportunity presented itself to cut herself free from the +bonds in which she had foolishly allowed herself to be entwined. +She went upstairs, put on her hat and jacket, crammed a few of +her scanty possessions into a leather handbag, and then--and +only then--paused to think.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was nearly nine o'clock, late for that part of the world. The +nearest railway station was at Carnoustie, more than seven miles +away. She knew that there was an early train which would take +her to Dundee, and thence to London; but, supposing she caught +it, how about the fare? The fare to London was nearly two +pounds; she had not a shilling. She did not doubt that, once in +London, she could live, as she always had lived; but she had to +get there first, across five hundred miles of intervening +country.</p> + +<p class="normal">She arrived at a sudden resolution, one, however, which had +probably been at the back of her mind from the first. Yesterday, +going suddenly into the landlady's own sitting-room, she had +taken the old lady unawares. Mrs. Macconichie had what Isabel +felt sure were coins--gold coins--in one hand, and in the other +the lid of a tobacco jar which stood in a corner of the china +cupboard. Although seeming to notice nothing, Mrs. Lamb, struck +by the old lady's state of fluster, leaped to the conclusion +that that tobacco jar was her cash-box. Now, bag in hand, she +came downstairs to learn if her surmise had been correct.</p> + +<p class="normal">Although she was aware that the sitting-room was empty, she was +conscious of an odd disinclination to enter, dallying for some +seconds with the handle in her hand. Once in, she lost no time +in ascertaining what she wished to learn, meeting, however, with +an unlooked-for obstacle. The china cupboard was locked; no +doubt Mrs. Macconichie had the key in her pocket. She took out +her own keys; not one of them was any use. She could see the +tobacco jar on the other side of the glass door. She did +not hesitate long; moments were precious. Taking a metal +paper-weight off the mantelshelf she smashed the pane, breaking +it right away to enable her to gain free access to the jar. She +removed the lid. The jar was full of odds and ends; she did not +examine them closely enough to gather what they were. At the +bottom, under everything else, was a canvas bag. She took it +out. It was tied round the neck with pink tape. It undoubtedly +contained coins; perhaps twenty or thirty. Should she open it, +and borrow two or three? or should she take it as it was?</p> + +<p class="normal">The answer was acted, not spoken. Slipping the bag between the +buttons of her bodice, she passed from the room and from the +house. So soon as she was in the open air she thought she heard +the sound of approaching footsteps; as if involuntarily she +shrank back into the doorway, listening. She had been mistaken; +there was not a sound. She came out into the street again, +drawing a long breath. She looked to the right and left; not a +creature was in sight. She set off in the direction of +Carnoustie.</p> + +<p class="normal">Her knowledge of the surrounding country was of the vaguest +kind. She had not gone far before it began to dawn on her that +this was a foolhardy venture in which she was engaged. It was a +habit of hers to act first and think afterwards, or she would +never have become Mrs. Gregory Lamb. Hard-headed enough when she +chose to give her wits fair play, she was, at that period of her +career, too much inclined to become a creature of impulse. The +impulses to which she was prone to yield were only too apt to be +wrong ones. For instance, she had not long left Mrs. +Macconichie's before she perceived clearly enough that the +chances were possibly a hundred to one against her reaching +Carnoustie in the darkness on foot. Houses were few and far +between; the road was a lonely one; it was quite on the cards +that she might not meet a soul from whom to make inquiries. If +she had given the thing any thought at all, she would have +perceived from the first how slight her chances were, in which +case, since it was no use jumping out of the frying-pan into the +fire, she would certainly have postponed her departure. Now it +was too late to return. The pane of glass in the china cupboard +was broken; the canvas bag was inside her bodice. With the best +will in the world she might find it difficult to conceal what +had happened, not to speak of the possibility of Mrs. +Macconichie's having already discovered her loss. So she pressed +on.</p> + +<p class="normal">Indeed, shortly she could not have gone back if she had wished. +She had not started half an hour before she was forced to admit +that she had lost her bearings utterly; that she had not the +faintest notion in which direction Carnoustie lay, nor +whereabouts she was. She was on a black road; that was all she +knew. A rough, uneven road, which apparently straggled over open +moorland. She could make out trees here and there, but the road +itself seemed to have no boundaries. So far as she could make +out, there was nothing on either side in the shape of a hedge or +landmark.</p> + +<p class="normal">Soon she was not at all sure that she was not off the road; that +she was not roaming, blindly, over the open country. It seemed +impossible that any road could be so uneven. She kept stumbling +over unseen obstacles. Once she caught herself descending what +seemed to be the steep sides of some sort of pit. With a sense +of shock she drew back in time. She listened; she seemed to hear +the sound of running waters. Could she be standing on the bank +of some stream or river, into which, in another second, she +might have descended? Anxious, even a little alarmed, turning +right about face, she moved forward in what she supposed was the +opposite direction. She seemed to be stumbling over a succession +of hillocks. This could not be the road; she must have gone +entirely astray. If she did not take care she would be running +into some serious danger.</p> + +<p class="normal">All at once her foot caught in some trailing root or plant; she +went headforemost to the ground. Fortunately, she came down +lightly enough. The fall was of little consequence, but when she +tried to regain her perpendicular she learned, to her dismay, +that her ankle refused to support her. Willy-nilly, she had to +remain squatted where she had fallen.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I seem to be in for a real good thing," she groaned. "Am I to +stay here all night? I shall be frozen to the bone before the +morning, to say nothing of waiting like a rat in a trap for Mrs. +Macconichie to catch me."</p> + +<p class="normal">She had to wait there for probably more than an hour, not +exactly on the same spot. She managed, at intervals, to half +hobble, half crawl across, perhaps another couple of hundred +yards of ground. But the labour was thrown away. At that rate +she would not have covered a mile before daybreak. Yielding to +necessity, still clutching her bag, crouching on the turf, she +watched for the light to come. She felt no need for sleep; she +was only consumed by a great impatience, in that all things +seemed to be against her.</p> + +<p class="normal">The skies were clouded like her fate. Nowhere was there a +glimmer of a star. A cool breeze was coming from what she judged +to be the sea. It made itself more and more felt as the time +stole on. By degrees it began to bring a mist with it. As she +had foreseen, she became chilled to the marrow of her bones.</p> + +<p class="normal">"If this goes on I shall freeze to death."</p> + +<p class="normal">The idea recurred to her like a sort of formula. She kept +telling herself again and again that that night would be the end +of her.</p> + +<p class="normal">When her vitality seemed at its lowest point the stillness of +the night was broken by a sound--the sound of wheels.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_02" href="#div1Ref_02">CHAPTER II</a></h2> + +<h3>AN OFFER OF MARRIAGE</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">She raised her head to listen, thinking that her senses must be +playing her a trick. No; it certainly was the sound of wheels, +coming nearer and nearer. Some one was driving fast through the +darkness, so fast that in what seemed to her to be less than a +minute the driver was close upon her. Apparently nearly in front +of her, although she could not see it, was a road along which +the vehicle was approaching. It carried no lights; nothing broke +the shadows; but, if her ears could be trusted, within a +stone's-throw of where she was some wheeled conveyance was +hurrying past. She stood upon her one sound foot and shouted:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hallo!--hallo-o!--hallo-o-o!" again and again.</p> + +<p class="normal">Her first shouts went unheeded. Possessed by a wild fear that +she might remain unnoticed, raising her voice to a desperate +yell, she started to scream herself hoarse.</p> + +<p class="normal">This time her tones travelled. Suddenly the vehicle ceased to +move. An answering shout came back to her:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who's there? What's the matter with you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The accent was broad Scotch. Had it been the purest Cockney +it could not have seemed more welcome. She replied to the +inquiry:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"I've sprained my ankle so that I can hardly move".</p> + +<p class="normal">This time in the other voice there was an unmistakable +suggestion of surprise.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is it a woman?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes."</p> + +<p class="normal">Her tone was fainter.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And what might you be doing here at this hour of the morning?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm going to Carnoustie."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Carnoustie! You're going to Carnoustie!--along this road? +You're joking! Can you get as far as this, so that I can have a +look at you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll try."</p> + +<p class="normal">She did try. It was a distance of barely a hundred yards, but +traversing it was a work of time. When the space was covered it +was only by clutching at the wheel of the trap that she saved +herself from subsiding in a heap upon the ground. In an instant +the driver was off his seat, and with his arm about her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is it so bad as that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is pretty bad," she stammered.</p> + +<p class="normal">"For the Lord's sake, don't faint! We've no time to waste upon +such trifles."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm not going to faint." At any rate the tone was faint enough. +Suddenly she seemed to pull herself together, as if stirred by a +spirit of resentment. "I never have fainted in my life--I'm not +going to begin to do it now."</p> + +<p class="normal">He laughed--that is, the little husky sound he made might have +been intended for a laugh.</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you'll keep quite still I'll lift you up into the trap +somehow, though, by the feel of you, you're as big as I am, and, +maybe, heavier. The mare won't move. She's one of the few female +things I ever met that wasn't troubled with the fidgets."</p> + +<p class="normal">As he put it, "somehow" he did get her up into the trap, then +climbed on to the seat beside her. Presently they were bowling +along together. For some seconds neither spoke. She was +endeavouring to accustom herself to her new position. He, +possibly--as his questions immediately showed--was wondering who +it was that he had chanced upon.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're English?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Staying in these parts?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm on a walking tour."</p> + +<p class="normal">"A walking tour at one o'clock in the morning!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It wasn't one o'clock when I started. I've been where you found +me for hours and hours."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Where were you making for?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I've told you, I was going to Carnoustie."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Going from Carnoustie, you mean. You'll never be finding it in +this part of the country."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I daresay. Since it became dark I've been hobbling round about +just anywhere. I don't know where I am; I've lost myself +completely." He was silent, as if he found something in her +words which made him think. Then she took up the <i>rôle</i> of +questioner: "Where are you going?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"To a man that's dying."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Are you a doctor?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's my trade."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then you'll be able to look at my ankle. I hope it's nothing +serious, but it seems to be getting worse instead of better."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll look at your ankle, never fear. I'll find you an easier +patient than the one I'm bound for."</p> + +<p class="normal">Little more was said on either side. The doctor seemed to be by +nature a taciturn man, or perhaps he was too preoccupied for +speech. Isabel was feeling too miserable to talk. She was cold +and wet; her ankle was occasioning her no little pain. She could +hardly have been less inclined for conversation, and she, also, +had at times a gift of silence. During the twenty or thirty +minutes the drive continued probably not half-a-dozen words were +exchanged.</p> + +<p class="normal">At last the doctor brought his mare to a standstill.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I suppose you couldn't get down and open a gate? There's one +right in front of us. I can see it's closed."</p> + +<p class="normal">His eyes must have had the cat's quality of being able to +penetrate the darkness; she could see nothing.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I might be able to get down--if I had to tumble, but I doubt if +I'd ever be able to get up again."</p> + +<p class="normal">He grunted as if in disapprobation.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Can you hold the reins while I get down?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I daresay I could do that."</p> + +<p class="normal">He passed her the reins and descended. She heard a gate swing +back upon its hinges. He reappeared at the horse's head.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'd better lead her through and up to the house; it's as black +as the devil's painted under the trees. I ought to have brought +my lamps, but I came away in such a hurry. When some folks are +dying they will not wait."</p> + +<p class="normal">They passed through a darkness which was so intense that she +could not see the horse which was drawing her on. The avenue +seemed a long one. It was some minutes before, drawing clear of +the overhanging foliage, they stopped in front of a house which +loomed grim and ominous in the shadows. Apparently their +approach had been heard. No sooner had they stopped than the +door was thrown wide open. The figure of a woman was seen +peering out into the darkness, with a lamp in her hand.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is it the doctor?" she demanded.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, it's the doctor. And how is he now?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He's as near to death as he can be to be still alive. I believe +he's only keeping the breath in his body till he gets a sight of +you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"To be sure that's uncommonly good of him. Now, madam, will that +ankle of yours permit you to tumble down with the help of a hand +from me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Without answering Isabel commenced a laborious and painful +descent. At sight of her the woman on the doorstep evinced a +lively curiosity.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why, doctor, who is it you're bringing with you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's a visitor for you, and another patient for me, Nannie. +You'll have to find her a corner somewhere while I go up to see +the laird. When I've done with him I'll have to start with her. +I'm hoping that she'll be the easier job of the two. Come, lend +a hand. It's beyond my power to get her into the house alone, +and it seems that by herself she'll never do it."</p> + +<p class="normal">Between them they got her up the steps, through the door and +into a room which, immediately after passing it, was entered on +the right. They placed her on a couch.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now, madam," observed the doctor, "here you'll have to stay +until I've seen my other patient. And since Heaven only knows +how long he'll keep me, you'll have to make the best of it until +I come. So keep up the character you told me of and don't you +faint, or any silliness of that kind, but just make yourself as +comfortable as ever you can."</p> + +<p class="normal">With that the speaker left her, the woman going with him. She +had placed on a table the lamp which she had borne in her hand. +It was a common glass affair, which did not give too good a +light. For some minutes Isabel showed no inclination to avail +herself of its assistance to learn in what manner of place she +was. By degrees, however, as the time continued to pass, and +there were still no signs of any one appearing, she began to +show a languid interest in her surroundings. She was dimly +conscious that the room was not a large one; that it was +sparely, even austerely, furnished. She was aware that the couch +on which she lay was of the old-fashioned horsehair kind, both +slippery and uncomfortable. She had a vague suspicion that if +she was not careful she would slip right off it, and her misty +imaginings became mistier still. Before she knew it she was +asleep.</p> + +<p class="normal">She slept for two good hours before she was disturbed; at least +that period of time had elapsed before the doctor made his +reappearance in the room. The sight of the sleeping woman seemed +to occasion him surprise. He observed her with a slight smile +adding another pucker to his wrinkled cheeks. He was a little, +thin man, clean shaven and bald-headed. He had a big, aquiline +nose. His eyes were sunk deep in his head, looking out from +overhanging shaggy eyebrows. His lips were drawn so tightly +together as to hint at a paucity of teeth.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who are you, I wonder? You've youth, health, good looks--three +good things for a woman to have. You're not ill-dressed. And yet +there's that about you, as you lie sleeping there--we're all of +us apt to give ourselves away when we're asleep--which makes me +wonder who you are, and how you came to sprain your ankle on +Crag Moor when going to Carnoustie. However that may be, there's +an adventure lying ready to your hand--if you've a fancy for +adventures. And, unless I'm much mistaken, I think you have."</p> + +<p class="normal">He laid his hand upon the sleeper's shoulder. The touch was a +light one, but it was sufficient to arouse her. With a start she +sprang up to a sitting posture, crying--</p> + +<p class="normal">"You shan't! It's a lie! You shan't." She put her hand to her +bodice, as if to guard something which was hidden there. The +doctor said nothing; he stood and watched. Waking to a clearer +sense of her surroundings, she perceived him standing by her +side. "Oh, it's you. How long have I been asleep?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Sufficiently long, I hope, to rest you. Will you allow me to +introduce myself? My name is Twelves--David Twelves, M.D., of +Edinburgh. May I ask if you have any objection to introduce +yourself to me, and tell me your name?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not the least; why should I have? I'm not ashamed of my name. +Why do you want to know it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Because the immediate object of my presence here is to make you +what is to all intents and purposes an offer of, say, twenty +thousand pounds, and I have a not unnatural desire to know to +whom I am offering it."</p> + +<p class="normal">She sat more upright on the couch, swinging round so as to bring +her feet upon the floor, looking at him with eyes which were now +wide open.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What do you mean? You are making fun of me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am doing nothing of the kind. This is likely to be one of the +most serious moments of your life. I am not disposed to lighten +it by misplaced attempts at playfulness." Yet even as he spoke +again that nebulous smile seemed to add another pucker to his +cheeks. "What I say is said very much in earnest. There is a man +upstairs who's dying. Perhaps he is already dead while I stand +here talking to you. If he's not dead, before he dies he wants +another curious thing--a wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">"A wife!--and you say he's dying!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's because he's dying that he wants her. He has had no need +of such an encumbrance living. I have come to ask you if you'll +be his wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I be his wife!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Instinctively she doubled up the finger on which was the +wedding-ring. She still wore her gloves, so it had remained +unnoticed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, you. You're the only woman within reach, except old +Nannie, who hardly counts, or I wouldn't trouble you. Answer me +shortly--yes or no--will you be his wife?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Marry a perfect stranger!--a man I've never seen!--who you say +is dying!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Precisely; it is a mere formula to which I'm asking your +subscription. He'll certainly be dead inside two hours, possibly +in very much less. You'll be a widow in one of the shortest +times on record; in possession of a wife's share of all his +worldly goods--and that, by all accounts, should be worth fully +twenty thousand pounds."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Twenty thousand pounds! But why should he want to marry any one +if he's dying?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's not much time for explanation, but I'll explain this +much. He's made a will in favour of a certain person. That will +he is anxious to revoke. If he marries it will become invalid. +As matters stand it will be easier for him to take a wife than +to make another will."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are sure he will be dead within two hours?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Quite. I shall not be surprised to learn that he's dead +already. You are losing your chances of becoming a well-to-do +widow by lingering here."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are certain he will leave me twenty thousand pounds?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"The simple fact of his death will make it yours. So soon as the +breath is out of his body you will become entitled to a wife's +inheritance--if you are his wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are not playing me any trick? It is all just as you say?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"On my honour, it is all just as I say. There is no trick. If +you will come with me upstairs you will be able to judge for +yourself."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But how can we be married at a moment's notice? Is there a +clergyman in the house?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You forget you are in Scotland. Neither notice nor clergyman is +needed. It will be sufficient for you to recognise each other as +husband and wife in the presence of witnesses; that act of +mutual recognition will in itself constitute a legal marriage +which all the lawyers will not be able to break. That is why it +will be easier for him to marry than to make another will."</p> + +<p class="normal">"There is not the least doubt that he will be dead within two +hours?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not the least--unless a miracle intervenes."</p> + +<p class="normal">She was sitting with her hands clenched in her lap, a +perceptible interval of silence intervening before the words +burst from her lips--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then I'll marry him!"</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_03" href="#div1Ref_03">CHAPTER III</a></h2> + +<h3>WHOM GOD HATH JOINED</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">Dr. Twelves showed no sign of either surprise or gratification. +He looked at her dispassionately, almost apathetically, from +under his overhanging eyebrows.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Can you walk upstairs without assistance?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm afraid not. I don't think my ankle is any better."</p> + +<p class="normal">He stooped down.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's swollen; it looks as if it were going to be an awkward +business. Your boot and stocking will have to be cut away; but +there's no time to do it now--moments are precious. You will +have to wait until you're married. It's only on the first floor. +Do you think you'll be able to get up with the aid of my arm and +of the baluster?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll try."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Might I suggest, before we start, that it would do no harm if +you were to remove your hat and jacket. It would seem more in +keeping."</p> + +<p class="normal">She acted on his suggestion.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I ought to wash and tidy myself; I know I'm all anyhow."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now you will do very well. Your future husband is too far gone +to be able to tell if your hair is straight or crooked; at the +point he's reached that sort of thing doesn't matter." When they +had reached the landing at the top of the stairs the doctor said +to her: "By the way, the name of your future husband is +Grahame--Cuthbert Grahame. May I ask what yours is? It is just as +well that he should know it."</p> + +<p class="normal">She hesitated a moment.</p> + +<p class="normal">"My name is Isabel Burney."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Miss Burney, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Grahame's room."</p> + +<p class="normal">He threw open the door of the room in front of which they had +been standing. As he did so Isabel slipped off her left-hand +glove, bringing with it, at the same time, her wedding-ring. +Crumpling up her glove she squeezed it into her waistband, the +ring inside it. On the doctor's arm she hobbled to a big +armchair, into which she sank with a sigh of unmistakable +relief.</p> + +<p class="normal">The room in which she found herself, although low-ceilinged, was +a spacious one. It seemed to her that all the furniture it +contained was old-fashioned, a fact which, although she did not +know it, increased its value perhaps a hundred-fold. She thought +it simply dowdy. A huge Chippendale bed was in the centre of the +room. In it, propped up on pillows, was the figure of a man +which, if only from the point of size, fitly matched the bed. +Leaning over him, on the other side, was Nannie, the old woman +who had admitted them into the house. The doctor addressed +himself to her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"How is he?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"About the same."</p> + +<p class="normal">Although they had both spoken in a whisper their voices were +audible to the man in the bed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is that that old devil Twelves come back again?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The tone was harsh, and it was obvious that the speaker spoke +with difficulty, but the words themselves were plain enough. The +doctor evinced no sign of annoyance at the other's somewhat +uncomplimentary reference to himself; on the contrary, he chose +to apply to himself the other's epithet as he answered:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, it's the old devil back again, and, what's more, he's +brought the young devil too--begging your pardon, Miss Burney, +for speaking of you in such a manner. But it's the fashion in +this house to use strong language, and always has been. Laird, +I've brought the lady."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Where is she?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"At this moment she's sitting in your armchair. As I told you, +she's sprained her ankle, which makes it difficult for her to +walk, or even stand."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Damn her ankle!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"By all means. You should know more about that sort of thing +than I do. You're nearer to it than I am."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You think that hurts me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not I. I know that nothing hurts you. I doubt if even the +torments of hell will trouble you much. You're past all hurting. +Shall I tell Miss Burney she isn't wanted, and can go again?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's her name?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Burney--Isabel Burney. At least, she says so."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Isabel Burney, you are my wife; you're Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame. I +acknowledge you as my wife, and I wish all men to acknowledge +you also. Are you content that it should be so?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You hear, Nannie? You hear, Twelves? You're both witnesses. I +take Isabel Burney to be my wife, and she agrees."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I hear. But does she take you for her husband--eh, Miss +Burney?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I do. I take Cuthbert Grahame to be my husband in the sight of +God and man."</p> + +<p class="normal">Isabel had returned to one of her old faults--overemphasis. +There was a theatrical intensity about both her manner and her +words which was singularly out of place when compared with the +matter-of-fact ribaldry which seemed to mark the husky utterance +of the man in the bed. Its inappropriateness seemed to strike +the others. After a perceptible pause the man in the bed +wheezed--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Leave God out of it". Presently he added, still more wheezily, +"Come here, Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame".</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor moved towards her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Can I assist you, Mrs. Grahame, to your husband's side?" With +the doctor's aid she gained the bed. "Laird, here's your wife; +can you see her?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Isabel saw the man whom she had taken to be her husband. The +sight of him shocked her. She told herself that she had never +seen a more dreadful object even in her dreams. His size was +abnormal. Not only was he naturally a big man, but his frame had +become swollen and bloated till it was monstrous--a horror to +look upon. His head and face were covered with scanty red hair, +which needed cutting. He had a huge head, and his neck was so +short and thick that it conveyed a grotesque impression that his +head sprang directly from his trunk. His whole form seemed to be +afflicted with some sort of tetanus, so that he was rigid, +immovable. He lay on his back, with his arms straight down at +his sides. Through his parted lips came jerky, stertorous +breaths. His eyelids were partially open, but only the whites of +his eyes were visible; his own words made it clear that they +were of little use to him as organs of sight.</p> + +<p class="normal">"See her? No, I can't see her. I don't want to."</p> + +<p class="normal">As he spoke a tremor passed all over him. His whole frame +heaved; as if seized by a sudden convulsion he began fighting +for his life. The doctor spoke to her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You had better go, unless you'd like to see the last of him. +This is likely to be the end. He'll hardly win through another +bout."</p> + +<p class="normal">He moved towards the bed, Nannie joining him. Isabel was left to +her own devices. Powerless to move far unaided it was all she +could do to stagger to the nearest chair. In it she sat, +waiting, watching, listening, like an unwilling spectator in +some bad dream. It was a scene which she never wholly forgot. +The dim light, the quaintly furnished room, the figures of the +old man and woman bending this way, then that, as they struggled +with the creature on the bed. What ailed him she did not know; +she vaguely surmised that he might be in the throes of some kind +of epileptic fit. His contortions shook the bed, indeed the +room. He kept uttering sounds which had a disagreeable +resemblance to the half-strangled yelps of some wild beast.</p> + +<p class="normal">How long it lasted she did not know. Long enough to strain her +already highly strung nerves almost beyond endurance. At last +there came a lull. The man on the bed was first quieter, then +still. She took advantage of the silence to exclaim:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Can't you take me away somewhere? You know I can't move. If I +have to stay here much longer I--I shall make a fool of myself."</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor and Nannie paid her no heed. Side by side they were +stooping together over the silent figure. After affording them +what she deemed a more than sufficient opportunity to answer, +she appealed to them again.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Can't you hear me? Take me away somewhere--I don't care where! +I'll go mad if you don't."</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor did not answer her directly; he spoke to Nannie.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do as she bids you; take her away."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Where'll I take her?" the woman asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Take her and put her to bed in the best bedroom. Remember that +she's now the mistress of this house."</p> + +<p class="normal">Nannie moved towards Isabel. For a woman, she was tall and +brawny, but she was probably well past fifty, and Isabel +certainly had not credited her with the capacity to do what she +immediately did. She eyed the stranger for a moment in silence, +then she asked, in the broadest Scotch:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Can't you walk by your own self?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Isabel resented both the tone and the scrutiny.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You know I can't."</p> + +<p class="normal">Without more ado the woman, stooping, put her arms about her and +lifted her bodily from the chair as if she were some great +child. Isabel was taken by surprise, and a little alarmed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You'll drop me!" she cried.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll not drop you; you're nothing of a weight."</p> + +<p class="normal">As if to prove it, the old woman bore her from the room, across +the landing, to another room on the other side, one which was in +darkness. But Nannie seemed to know its geography by instinct. +She deposited her burden on what Isabel realised was a bed. +Striking a match on a box which she took from her pocket, she +lit some candles which stood on the mantelshelf. Isabel, +remaining where she had been placed, eyed her as she moved +about.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're very strong."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm not so strong as once I was. There was a time when I'd have +carried four of you, and thought nothing of it either. Now can +you undress yourself, or will you be needing me to do it for +you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Thank you, I think I can undress myself; but if you would help +me take the boot off my bad foot."</p> + +<p class="normal">Nannie bent over the foot which the other extended. She regarded +it in silence, then, still without a word, she left the room. So +soon as she was gone Isabel dragged the glove which contained +her wedding-ring out of her belt, and the canvas bag which had +come out of Mrs. Macconichie's tobacco jar from her bodice, and +thrust them as far as possible under the bolster which was +beneath the pillow on which she was reclining. Scarcely had she +done this when Nannie reappeared, in her hands a pair of large +scissors. With their aid she proceeded, still speechless, to +cut, first, the laces of Isabel's boot, and then the boot +itself, till it came away from her foot. As it came away she did +what she boasted she had never before done in her life--she +fainted. When she came to herself again she found that Nannie, +who had apparently remained indifferent to the fact that her +senses had left her, having bathed her foot and ankle, was +putting the finishing touches to the bandages in which she had +swathed it. When the bandage was completed the old woman, still +without vouchsafing a word, began to undress her, and did it +with a deftness and neatness which would have done her credit +had she played the part of lady's-maid her whole life long. +Almost before she knew it, she was ready for the sheets, and so +soon as she was ready she was placed between them.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're very good to me," she murmured, with a luxurious sigh, +as she recognised what a delicious feeling it was to be between +them.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm not good to you--anyway I'm not wanting to be good to you."</p> + +<p class="normal">Isabel looked up with surprise; the tone was almost savage.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why not? Don't you think that you will like me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Like you!--like you!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The emphasis with which the words were repeated was +unmistakable. It would have been difficult for scorn to have +been more eloquent. Without condescending to further speech, as +if everything had been said which could be said, Nannie moved +towards the door. Isabel put a question to her as she reached +it.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is my husband dead?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Nannie turned swiftly round to her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Your--what?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"My husband."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Your husband!--your husband!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Again the repetition was marked by the same wealth of scorn. +Isabel was moved to some show of resentment.</p> + +<p class="normal">"He is my husband--you know he's my husband."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh, he's your husband, Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame. I'm not doubting +it, ma'am, or that you're a fit and proper wife for him. I'm +ready to tell to any one that you're a well-matched pair."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is he dead?"</p> + +<p class="normal">As she repeated her inquiry Isabel's manner was a trifle more +subdued; she was finding Nannie a difficult person to contend +with.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You'd better be asking Dr. Twelves if your husband's dead, +ma'am; he's a surer judge of dead folk than I am. You'll be +feeling anxious till you know, and so I'll tell the doctor. When +a woman's been acquainted with a man so long as you've been +acquainted with your man, so that you've come to know all the +secrets of his heart, and the very shape and fashion of the soul +which God has lent him, to be sure all her nature stirs within +her when she begins to fear he's near to dying. It's hard to +lose the husband to whom you've only been married a couple of +minutes, so I'll tell the doctor to hurry and let you know if +you're a widow before you're a wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">Without giving Isabel a chance to retort, Nannie opened the door +with a swishing movement, which was in harmony with her state of +mind, and vanished from the chamber.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_04" href="#div1Ref_04">CHAPTER IV</a></h2> + +<h3>A SECOND HONEYMOON</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">She had slept well; Isabel admitted so much. She suspected +something else, that the morning was far advanced. There was +that in the atmosphere which conveyed that impression. +Apparently some one had been in while she still slept and put +the room in order. The blinds were up, the curtains drawn back, +the sun streamed in through the small square windows which were +set deep in the thickness of the wall. As she looked about her, +from her vantage place on the pillow, she felt that this was the +queerest place she ever had been in. Everything, including the +room itself, seemed to her to be hundreds of years old. The +paper on the walls was like nothing she had ever seen before. +The furniture was of the oddest shapes; indeed, what some of the +articles might be intended for was beyond her comprehension. As +she gradually absorbed it all, she began to be conscious of an +almost eerie feeling that she had woke up in some ancient +habitation and in some bygone age of which she had no knowledge.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then something else forced itself on her attention, she felt +that she was helpless. As she tried to turn in bed, the better +to enable her to see what was to be seen, a spasm of pain passed +over her, which was so acute that she had to shut her eyes and +bite her lips to prevent herself from crying out. For some +moments she lay quite still, waiting for the pain to go. It was +some time before it diminished; even when it was easier she +learnt, to her dismay, that she would have to be very careful in +her movements if she did not wish it to return with probably +increasing violence. Her foot seemed, from the feel of it, to be +about as bad as it could be. It was not only useless, it held +her prisoner. The slightest attempt to move it in any direction +resulted in the keenest anguish. It seemed that relief from +almost unendurable torment could only be obtained by remaining +entirely quiescent. That meant, in effect, that she was chained, +possibly for an indefinite period, to the bed in which she was +lying. An agreeable prospect!</p> + +<p class="normal">As the true inwardness of the position began to dawn on her, in +phantasmagoric procession the events of the previous night +flashed across her mind. The letter to her husband--to Gregory +Lamb--which she had opened and read, the letter with the +Islington post-mark, containing the curt refusal to accord him +further help; the resolution to leave him, which she had +instantly arrived at after its perusal; her visit to Mrs. +Macconichie's sitting-room; her forcible entry into the china +cupboard; her abstraction of the canvas bag from the tobacco +jar.</p> + +<p class="normal">At this point, her thoughts branching off in another direction, +she felt, gingerly enough, for it seemed that movement of any +sort meant pain, under the bolster, and produced from it the +bag in question and the glove in which she had secreted the +wedding-ring. The sight of the ring started her thoughts +travelling again.</p> + +<p class="normal">To her flight through the darkness, with the leather handbag. By +the way, what had become of that bag? She had no recollection of +having done anything with it. Possibly she had put it down when +she had sprained her ankle, and, in her trouble, had forgotten +its existence; in which case it might be still upon the moor. If +it were found, and nothing could be learned of her, what +deductions would be drawn? She wondered. One thing was certain, +it contained all her worldly possessions. Without it she had not +so much as a pocket-handkerchief, not to speak of such a +necessity of existence as a brush and comb.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then the trap had come through the night, and borne her to the +house in which she lay. There she had been married to a man upon +his death-bed. Such a man and such a death-bed! Could it be +possible? She clenched her fists, and asked herself if the whole +business had not been the wild imaginings of some disordered +dream. Even to herself she could not furnish a satisfactory +answer.</p> + +<p class="normal">Why had she suffered herself to be dragged through such a +farce?--to play a part in such an odious scene? Because that old +man who called himself a doctor had told her that the creature +would be dead within two hours, and that then she would be +richer by twenty thousand pounds. Twenty thousand pounds! Could +that part of the tale be possible? Why, in that case, this +house, the very room in which she was, the queer furniture which +filled it, all might be hers. She would be a wealthy woman, who +had won her wealth so easily without incurring risk worth +mention. Because, even in the storm and stress of the moment, +she had understood that bigamy was bigamy, even though one of +the marriages into which she had entered was a Scotch one. Of +course, nothing could make that marriage of the night before a +real one, since she was a wife already. But, as the man was +dead, and she was supposed to be his widow, if fortune favoured +her the truth never need come out. She believed that she was +clever enough to conceal it--at any rate from whom it was worth +her while to do so. Only let her get hold of the twenty thousand +pounds, or so much of it as could be turned into ready cash--let +them find out afterwards what they chose--they would find it +hard to get the money back from her. Twenty thousand pounds! She +fancied herself letting go of such a sum as that if she once had +it in her grip!</p> + +<p class="normal">The first thing she had to do was to inform herself as fully as +possible as to the actual situation. If she was a widow, and her +husband had died without a will--he had certainly not made one +after marrying her, while the doctor had assured her that +marriage had rendered nugatory any he might have made +before--then this house, and all that it contained, if it had +been his property, was now hers. At least she hoped it was, +because, after a little muddled consideration, it began to occur +to her that, by English law, a wife did not necessarily inherit +all that a husband who had died intestate left behind him. +Exactly what share was hers she was not sure, but she had a more +or less dim conviction that it was less than the whole. The same +objectionable law might obtain in Scotland, or even a worse one. +The sooner she ascertained exactly how the ground lay the better +it would be for her peace of mind. So she began to call +attention to the fact that she was wide awake. Since there was +apparently no bell within reach, she had to make the best use of +her voice.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nannie!" she called. "Nannie! Nannie!" And she kept on calling, +because there was none that answered. Her voice was a strong +one--she exerted it to the utmost--but it seemed that it was not +strong enough to reach any one outside that room. She shouted +till she was hoarse, and angry too, quite in vain; nothing +resulted.</p> + +<p class="normal">"If there's any one in the house they must hear me, and I expect +they do, only they don't choose to come. Oh, if it weren't for +this foot of mine! That Nannie's an insolent hag. She knows +perfectly well that I can't move, and thinks she can treat me as +she likes. If I could move I'd soon show her. Nannie! Nannie!" +She shouted till she could really shout no longer. No one came; +nor was there anything to show that she was heard. She began to +be possessed by a fresh alarm. "I wonder if the house is empty? +Suppose that old hag has gone off and left me alone in the house +with that--that dead man. I'll be bound she's quite capable of +doing it--old wretch! I shall starve to death! Nannie! Nannie!"</p> + +<p class="normal">But all the strength had gone out of her voice--it was not +strange that those muffled tones remained unheeded--a fact of +which she herself was conscious. At last, wholly exhausted, she +lay and thought hard things of every one. She was genuinely +hungry. She told herself that if some one did not come soon and +bring her food something would have to be done, though she had +not the faintest notion what. Self-help was out of the question; +she was as powerless to move as if she had been riveted to the +bed.</p> + +<p class="normal">She was rapidly reaching a despairing stage when Nannie entered +with a tray in her hand, quite calmly, as if it were the most +natural thing in the world that she should come just then and +not before. Isabel broke into angry expostulation.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why have you kept me waiting. Why didn't you come before? You +must have heard me long ago--you're not stone deaf. I've +screamed myself hoarse."</p> + +<p class="normal">Nannie placed the tray upon a table. Then, with the most +matter-of-fact air, putting her arms about the angry woman, she +raised her to a sitting posture, arranging the pillows so that +they formed a prop for her back. Divided between indignation and +bewilderment, Isabel submitted in silence; she was so helpless, +the old woman's manner was so masterful, that to expostulate +seemed vain. The tray was put beside her on the coverlet, Nannie +observing--</p> + +<p class="normal">"When you've eaten your fill I'll come and take a look at that +foot of yours".</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's ever so much worse. I've been in agony--and am still. I +believe I've broken a bone."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not you; it's no but a sprain."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's more than a sprain--much more, I'm convinced of it. +Where's Dr. Twelves? He ought to attend to it at once. He said +he would come and see me. Why hasn't he been?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He's been and gone hours ago."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Been and gone! Why didn't you let me know that he was here?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What for should I let you know?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You knew that I wished to see him."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You never said it; and, anyway, he never said that he was +wishing to see you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're taking advantage of me! You think I'm at your mercy, and +that you can do as you like with me because I can't move! You're +a wicked old woman!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Am I? Then I'm reckoning that age is the only difference there +is between us."</p> + +<p class="normal">Burning words flamed to Isabel's lips, but she had enough +prudence and self-control not to allow them to go any farther. +She was at the other's mercy, and she knew it. The only way to +obtain from her some slight consideration was to endeavour to +appease, not anger her. Instead of giving her anger vent, she +put to her a question, the one she had put the night before.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is my husband dead?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She received what was practically the same answer.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Didn't I tell you that for that you must ask Dr. Twelves, since +he's knowing when folks are dead better than me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Without affording Isabel another opportunity to speak Nannie +left the room.</p> + +<p class="normal">If the new Mrs. Grahame could have got out of bed there would +have been some lively doings. It is not impossible that Nannie +would have found that she had met her match. When that lady was +really roused, and had a fair chance to show it, she was a +difficult person to deal with. But she was, literally, held by +the leg; as incapable of doing what she would have liked to have +done as if she had been an infant in arms.</p> + +<p class="normal">When, after an interval of no long duration, the ancient +servitor returned, Isabel did treat her to what she meant to be +a taste of her claws. For all the effect she produced she might +have saved herself the trouble. The Scotchwoman evinced a serene +indifference to anything she might say or do, which influenced +her more than she would have cared to own. Then the pain she +endured was exquisite. Nannie's ministrations were deft enough. +She set about her task like one who understood well what she had +to do, and was capable of doing it. She removed the bandages, +bathed the injured foot, applied hot poultices; so far as Isabel +was able to judge, did all that could be done. But the most +delicate touches could not prevent her suffering agony. By the +time the other had finished her anger was forgotten. All she +desired was rest--peace--to be left alone.</p> + +<p class="normal">For seven days Isabel remained, willy-nilly, in bed. All the +time the only person she saw was Nannie. Dr. Twelves never came +near her. Whether the fault was his or her attendant's was more +than she could determine. She heard no news of any sort or kind. +Nothing could be got out of Nannie. No answers to any of her +questions; only the fewest possible words on unimportant +subjects.</p> + +<p class="normal">It is true that during the first two or three days her ankle +gave her so much trouble, her sufferings from it were so +intense, that she was, in a measure, content to be left alone +and in ignorance. But as the pain lessened her impatience, and +indignation, grew apace. More than once she attempted to get out +of bed and to start on a voyage of exploration through the house +to acquire information on her own account. Since, however, her +attempts only resulted in disaster, and it was made plain that +they only postponed her convalescence, common-sense gained the +upper hand. She resolved to endure with as much calmness as she +could command till the time arrived when, at least to some +extent, she should again be mistress of her own powers of +locomotion.</p> + +<p class="normal">After the longest week she had ever known she decided that that +time was not far off. She informed Nannie that, since her foot +was now on the high road to recovery, on the morrow she would be +capable of getting out of bed, and that, therefore, get out of +bed she would. Nannie, as was her wont, kept silence when this +piece of information was vouchsafed to her. But that she was +impressed by it was evident when on the morrow in question, +instead of the old woman, Dr. Twelves came into the room. It +seemed as if Nannie must have told him that the time had now +come when it was desirable that he should make his re-entry on +the scene. At least that was the conclusion at which, at sight +of him, the lady in the bed instantly arrived.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_05" href="#div1Ref_05">CHAPTER V</a></h2> + +<h3>A CONVERSATION WITH THE DOCTOR</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">"So you've come, have you, at last! I suppose that old hag told +you you had better before I came to you? I should have come in +half an hour."</p> + +<p class="normal">That was the greeting the angry lady accorded her tardy visitor.</p> + +<p class="normal">Dr. Twelves seemed to be in no haste to answer. Coming to within +a foot or two of her bed-side he stood and eyed her. He looked +very old in the daylight, older than she had thought he was. +Short; thin to the point of emaciation. There was something +almost sinister in his attitude, in the way in which, inclining +his head a little forward, his arms held close to his sides, he +examined her keenly, as if he were some bird of prey, and she an +object on which he was doubtful whether or not to pounce. As she +gave him glance for glance she understood that this was a person +who was not so frail as he might at first sight appear. But want +of courage was not a deficiency which could justly be laid to +the lady's charge. When he did reply it was with a question.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why do you speak to me like that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You know very well why! You promised that first night that you +would attend to my foot; but though I've asked for you again and +again you've never been near me once, till you were afraid that +I should be after you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You've been in good hands. Nannie has done all for you that I +could have done."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't doubt that."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then of what do you complain?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You've kept me a prisoner."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Kept you a prisoner! I! Madam, you jest. Has not your foot had +something to do with your confinement? Is it not holding you a +prisoner still?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It won't do long, so don't you think it. I'll be out and about +before the day's over, and when I am I'll make things hum. Is my +husband dead?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Your husband?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"My husband! Are you deaf?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, madam, not yet. So far age has not robbed me of my hearing. +But to whom do you refer when you speak of your husband?"</p> + +<p class="normal">There was that in the fashion in which he asked the question +which caused her to clench her fists, tighten her lips and +descend to vulgarity--unfortunately an easy descent for her to +make when her temper waxed warm.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What are you playing at? Do you think you're clever, or that +I'm an utter fool? You're wrong if you do, you may take it from +me. Is my husband, Cuthbert Grahame, dead? I've not been able to +get an answer out of that old harridan, but I'll get one out of +you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then is Cuthbert Grahame your husband?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is he! Isn't he? Didn't he marry me the other night in front of +you and that old woman?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Have you a certificate or any writing to show it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"A certificate! What do I want with a certificate? You said +nothing about a certificate! Look here, old man, don't you try +to play any fool-tricks with me, or you'll be sorry. Are you +trying to make out that he's not my husband?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not at all; I am trying to do nothing. I should like to ask you +a question, to which, before you answer it, I would suggest that +you should give a little careful consideration. Would you rather +be Cuthbert Grahame's wife or not?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am his wife, and you very well know it, so it's no use +talking, and that's enough said. I ask you again, is my husband +dead?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Your husband? That is the point which I am gradually +approaching. Mr. Cuthbert Grahame is not dead."</p> + +<p class="normal">Her jaw dropped open.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not dead?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not dead."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But you told me----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Precisely; I am aware that I told you. You will, however, +remember that I made an express reservation in favour of a +miracle. The miracle has happened."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How long will he live?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Madam, I am not omniscient. I have once, within your knowledge, +failed as a prophet; I should not care to fail again."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is he dying?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I may venture to say that, at the present moment, to the best +of my knowledge and belief, he is not."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are beating about the bush. You can at least say if he is +likely to live long."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is possible, madam, that he may outlive me--even you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then you have cheated me!--cheated me! You have got me into +this mess by your lies."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Any injustice I may have done you was unintentional. You will +also be so good as to observe that I have just now offered you +something which was intended to be in the nature of a loophole +out of the dilemma in which you are placed."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You mean when you asked me if I wanted to be his wife. Am I his +wife, or am I not?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It might present a pretty point for the lawyers. If you had +chosen to repudiate the connection, it might not have been easy +to establish. Nannie and I can hold our tongues--that I beg you +to believe. The occasion for a wife having passed, he might have +preferred to hold his too."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Would he rather be unmarried?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That is not a matter on which I should care to positively +pronounce."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then why was he so eager?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I explained at the time. He had made a will in favour of a +certain person, which he desired to render ineffective; marriage +makes null and void any will which a man may have previously +made; under the circumstances that seemed to be the easiest and +the shortest way out of it. As matters have turned out the +measure seems to have been a little drastic, since he can now, +if he chooses, make a dozen new wills each day."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is he so far recovered as that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor seemed desirous to consider before he answered. He +put up his long, thin hand to stroke his bristly chin. Moving a +few steps, he leaned over the foot of the bed, and from that +point attentively regarded her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Madam, I do not wish to trouble you with the medical names of +all the complicated diseases with which Mr. Grahame is +afflicted. I am not sure that I am myself acquainted with them +all; some of them puzzle even me. Among other troubles he is +paralysed. He cannot move hand or foot of his own volition, or +crook a finger. Again, straying into the paths of prophecy, I +dare assert that he never will be able to. He has his +senses--after a fashion; he is sane--also after a fashion. That +is, he is legally capable of making a will, or of taking a wife. +But if he desires to affix his signature to a document a pen +will have to be placed between his fingers, his hand will have +to be guided. To that extent he has recovered, beyond that he +almost certainly will never go."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But he is not dying?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, madam, he is not dying."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nor likely to die?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No office would insure his life for four-and-twenty hours, +though it is quite within the range of possibility that the +breath may continue in his body for years. Such cases have been +known. Some people death takes at the first call; some have to +be called again and again; some seem to go beyond the portal and +yet return. Cuthbert Grahame is one of them. He'll not go till +death is very much in earnest; when that will be I cannot say. I +mistook death's mood the other night--the oldest of us make such +mistakes at times. In this case my mistake may seem to press a +little hardly upon you."</p> + +<p class="normal">She looked at him askance. There was a whimsical gravity in his +tone which was a little beyond her comprehension, a something +which was almost sympathetic. She changed the subject; a fresh +intonation had come into her voice also.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I wish you'd look at my foot. It's better. I think that before +long I'll be able to get about again as usual. I want to very +much; it's awful being a prisoner in bed. I'm not good at +keeping still."</p> + +<p class="normal">He did as she requested, then pronounced a verdict.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Your foot is better--much better, as you say. There is no +reason why you should not get up, though it may be some little +time before you have the entire use of it again."</p> + +<p class="normal">"At any rate I'll get out of bed--at once."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And, then, what do you propose to do when you are up?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm going to see my husband."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Your husband?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Can't I? Why can't I?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Grahame!--if it is your wish that you should be Mrs. +Grahame."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Aren't I Mrs. Grahame? If I am, what's the good of pretending +that I'm not? I am Mrs. Grahame, so there's an end of it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Grahame, haven't you any friends?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What do you mean by friends?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Haven't you any relatives? Is there no one to whom you are near +and dear? no one to whom you are in any sense responsible for +your actions; with whom in a measure your happiness or +unhappiness must be shared?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No one in this world!"</p> + +<p class="normal">He smiled at her vehemence, observing her closely all the time.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Since I am, in a degree, responsible for the--we will call it +situation--you are in, I am not unnaturally desirous of having +my conscience as clear as I conveniently can. I would, +therefore, beg you earnestly to let the first thing you do be +this: If you have--we will say an acquaintance--on whose +judgment you can rely, write to him; lay the facts before him +clearly, and await his response before you take any further step +whatever--certainly before you seek to have an interview with +Mr. Grahame."</p> + +<p class="normal">"There is no such person."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is unfortunate, since you are so young, and, therefore +necessarily, so inexperienced, that you should be so entirely +alone in the world. Will you allow me to offer you some advice?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's the use? I've had enough of your advice already--too +much."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How do you make out your case? I am unconscious of having +offered you any advice."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You advised me to marry that man."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I advised you!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of course you did. There are more ways than one of offering +advice; you chose the roundabout way. You told me that if I +married him he'd be dead inside two hours, then I'd be richer by +twenty thousand pounds. This is what comes of acting on your +tip! No thank you. I've had enough and to spare of your advice; +now and henceforward I'm going to act upon my own."</p> + +<p class="normal">"None the less I'm going to give you a piece of advice--of very +sincere advice. You have been subjected to some slight +inconvenience--though, perhaps, inconvenience is hardly the +proper word."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should think not."</p> + +<p class="normal">"My advice to you is: When your foot permits leave this house--I +assure you it is not a pleasant one to live in; accept a +reasonable sum by way of compensation; then blot the whole +episode from your memory."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What do you call a reasonable sum?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Say a hundred pounds."</p> + +<p class="normal">"A hundred pounds?--the idea! when you talked of twenty +thousand! None of your kid's talk for me! Look here, Dr. +Twelves, you're an old fox. Don't you think I don't know it +however hard you try to play the lamb? You've got some game of +your own on. I don't know what it is, but I soon will. If you +offer me a hundred pounds to go, I'm dead sure it'll be worth a +good deal more than that to me to stay--and I'm going to stay! +This is my house; I'm the mistress here; and all the more the +mistress because my husband's a rich man who can't look after +himself. I'll look after him! I'll show you who's who and what's +what!--and every one else as well!--you can take that straight +from me!"</p> + +<p class="normal">As he rubbed his chin, as if he found comfort in the feel of the +bristles, the doctor's smile grew more pronounced.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Content, Mrs. Grahame, content! Only--still a further scrap of +advice!--postpone your first call on your husband till you are +able to move about as you please."</p> + +<p class="normal">This piece of advice the lady did act upon, for the simple +reason that she was powerless to do otherwise. When she did get +out of bed it was agony to hop even as far as the couch. Three +more days passed before she was able to stand without flinching +overmuch; another whole week had gone before she was able to +hobble unaided to the door.</p> + +<p class="normal">During that time she perhaps suffered more than she had done +while she was still in bed. To her restless nature the +compulsory inaction was almost unendurable. Her desire to attack +the problem which confronted her, to solve it if she could--at +any rate to learn what really was the position in which she +stood--possessed her like a consuming fever. Nothing could be +got out of Nannie; she was impervious to questions of every sort +and kind. Arguments, coaxing, threats, alike were unavailing. +The old woman could scarcely have been more taciturn had she +taken on herself a vow of silence. And after that one visit she +saw no more of Dr. Twelves; she could even hear nothing of him +from Nannie. That angered her almost more than anything, that he +should seem to ignore her so completely! She swore to herself +that he should smart for it before very long.</p> + +<p class="normal">During that week she laid up a fund of resentment against both +the doctor and Nannie which she promised herself she would pour +forth upon their heads at the earliest possible moment. Only let +her be able to get about again as of old, and they should see!</p> + +<p class="normal">On the eighth day she decided that her time had come, or, at +least, that it had begun to come. She said nothing to Nannie, +but having proved by actual experiment that she could move about +with comparative ease, she dressed herself, waited till the old +woman had paid her her usual morning call, then set out on a +voyage of exploration. Hobbling to the door, she opened it as +quietly as possible, then stood and listened She could hear +Nannie moving about downstairs. Then she moved towards the door +which was on the opposite side of the landing. Had she had a +stick on which to lean her progress might have been quicker. In +spite of her reiterated requests Nannie had failed to provide +her with one. Without support of any sort she moved very slowly. +But she did get to her destination at last. She laid her hand +upon the handle, paused a moment to learn if her movements had +been observed, then turned it as quietly as she could.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_06" href="#div1Ref_06">CHAPTER VI</a></h2> + +<h3>HUSBAND AND WIFE</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">She stood just inside the threshold of the room, with the handle +of the open door between her fingers, and listened. She had +moved so noiselessly that, quite possibly, to the ear alone her +entry had been imperceptible. She looked about her, recalling +the picture which it had presented to her mind on that first +night. For some reason which she would have found it hard to +explain a shiver passed all over her; a sudden chill seemed to +penetrate to her very bones.</p> + +<p class="normal">The room looked different by daylight, the windows wide open, +the sun sending wide, warm splashes of yellow light from wall to +wall. One of them came right at her as she remained there +motionless. As she lifted her face she was blinded by the glare. +It was odd that she should shiver in that glow of sunshine. +Everything was so neat and orderly; there was such an absence of +any signs of occupation, such complete stillness prevailed, that +her first impression was that she had in some way made a +mistake; that the room was empty. It was only when her wandering +glance reached the great bed, which stood in such a position +that it was partially screened by the door which she still held +open, that she understood.</p> + +<p class="normal">Its occupant was asleep, or--he was so motionless, so silent, +her own heart seemed to cease beating--could he be dead? With +unexpected ease she moved closer to the bed. No, he certainly +was not dead; he merely slept, to all appearance, as peacefully +as a little child.</p> + +<p class="normal">Sleep produced no improvement in his looks. She went still +nearer, so that, by leaning over, she could examine him in +detail.</p> + +<p class="normal">The conviction which she had had at first sight of him recurred +with, if anything, even greater force. Beyond a doubt she had +never seen a more unprepossessing-looking man. She had an almost +morbid liking for good looks in a man. Gregory Lamb's handsome +face had had almost as much to do with winning her as his lying +tongue, which dowered him with splendid wealth. Her ideas of +good looks were probably her own--Gregory was there to show it. +But her attachment to them was so marked that she could with +difficulty be civil to a man who was positively plain. An +absolutely ugly man was to her an object of aversion; her first +feeling towards such an one was actual physical repulsion, as if +he were some unclean thing.</p> + +<p class="normal">There could be no sort of doubt as to the ugliness of the man in +the bed. His huge size was in itself a sufficiently unpleasant +feature. It lent to him an uncomfortable aspect which was almost +inhuman. He seemed to have swelled and swelled till his skin had +become as tight as a drum. One had a disagreeable notion that if +one pricked him, like some distended bladder, he would burst. He +was all bloated, not only his body, but his head as well, and, +above all, his neck. She had once had an aunt who had died of +dropsy. This man seemed dropsical from the crown of his head to +the tip of his toe--monstrously dropsical.</p> + +<p class="normal">Nor was his appearance improved by the manner in which his head +and face were covered with long sandy red hair, growing in +scanty tufts, with bare spaces in between. The hair matched ill +with his complexion, which was brick red, tinged, as it were, +with a suggestion of pallid blue. He slept so quietly that it +was difficult to be sure, at first sight, that his condition was +one of slumber, not death. As Isabel bent over, she did not +hesitate to tell herself that she wished he was as dead as he +seemed. The sight of him afflicted her with such a sensation of +aversion that she was then and there filled with an almost +irresistible desire to crush him out of existence, as if +he had been some loathsome reptile. She was possessed by a +shrewd suspicion that she had only to strike him a hearty +blow--anywhere!--to bring him to an end upon the spot. It would +be so easy. She had been tricked; he ought to have been dead ere +then. What was the use of such a creature living, and what +enjoyment could he get out of life? Where should she strike him? +She clenched her fist as if it had been actuated by an +involuntary tightening of the muscles. As she did so, he opened +his eyes, and looked at her.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was a curious moment for both of them--so both of them seemed +to think. There was in his gaze such a take-it-for-granted air +that one could not but wonder if he had not been conscious of +her presence even while he slept. The sight of a strange woman +leaning over his bed, with such a queer expression on her +countenance, did not seem to surprise him in the least. That she +was strange to him was plain. He seemed to be searching in his +muddy brain for some clue which would tell him who she was. The +search did not seem to be meeting with much success.</p> + +<p class="normal">For probably more than a minute they continued to look at each +other, the contrast between the fashion of their looks being +almost grotesque in its completeness. Her bold, handsome face +was, at the same time, illuminated by keen intelligence, and +marked by an expression of vindictiveness which gave it an +unpleasanter effect than if it had been actually ugly. His face, +on the other hand, was vacuous, expressionless; more, it was +incapable of expression. It reminded one, in some uncomfortable +way, of a piece of blubber, without form and void.</p> + +<p class="normal">The eyes, particularly in comparison with the rest of him, were +small; with the exception of the pupils they were blood-shot. +One wondered how much, or how little, they could see; they +regarded Isabel blankly, as if she had been a wooden doll.</p> + +<p class="normal">After an inspection which lasted, as it seemed, an unnatural +length of time, it was he who broke the silence. His voice was a +little clearer than when she had heard it first, but not much. +It still had the peculiar quality of appearing to belong to some +one who was at a distance.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who are you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">There was a significant pause before she answered. In her tone +was significance of another kind.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm your wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">Either her words took him by surprise, or he did not gather what +she meant, or disliked what he did gather. He was still again, +as if ruminating on what she had said. When he did speak the +remark he made was a little startling.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Damn you!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The unparliamentary utterance, especially as addressed to a +lady, was accentuated by the matter-of-fact stolidity which +marked it. It was not impossible that for a moment or two she +was moved to give him back as good as he sent--and better. +Possibly, however, the impulse was changed, as regards form, in +the making. Instead of imitating the vigour of his epithet, she +cut at him with a lash of her own.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're my husband." It would have been difficult for the +strongest language to have been more scathing than her plain +pronouncement of a simple fact. As if desirous of driving her +dart still further home, she repeated her own words, with an +even added bitterness--"You're my husband!--you!"</p> + +<p class="normal">It would appear that the man, object as he was, was not without +some sense of humour, and, also, that his feelings were not of +the kind which are unduly sensitive. After what seemed to be due +consideration of her words, he endorsed their correctness with a +brevity which in itself was eloquent.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am."</p> + +<p class="normal">There was something in the two little monosyllables which seemed +to sting her more than his curse had done. She gave a movement, +as if she were disposed to let her resentment take some active +and visible form. But, again, maybe, her impulse changed in the +making; she endeavoured to put a meaning into her repetition of +a simple statement, which should make it strike him with greater +force than a blow could have done.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am your wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">Once more he showed himself to be her match in the game of give +and take. Hardly were the words out of her mouth than he +endorsed them again, with what was almost like the semblance of +a grin upon his blubber-like face.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And I propose to let you see that I'm your wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No doubt."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Your real, actual wife, not a puppet, a thing you can pull by a +string."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Quite so."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You may imagine, perhaps, that I'm a mere dummy, an automaton, +which can be set in movement only when you choose. If you do, +you're wrong, as I intend to show you, Mr. Cuthbert Grahame."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Precisely, Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame."</p> + +<p class="normal">It seemed, for an instant, as if a torrent of words was +trembling at the tip of her tongue, needing but a touch to set +them loose; if so, the touch did not come. Turning, she went and +stood by an open window; resting her hand on the sill she leaned +out, as if she needed fresh air. She looked out on to a garden +which was evidently of considerable size, but which sadly needed +attention. The grass could not have been cut for months; it +competed with weeds for possession of the footpaths. There were +flowers, but they needed pruning; the weeds threatened to +choke them in their own beds. Beyond, the ground rose; +everywhere the slopes were covered with trees, pines for the +most part--scarcely a cheerful framework to what was already +bidding fair to become a scene of desolation. In spite of the +sweet, clean air and of the brilliant sunshine, in her +surroundings, as she saw them, there was a hint of something +uncongenial, unfriendly, which did not tend to make her mood a +gayer one.</p> + +<p class="normal">While she still seemed to be absorbing the spirit of the +landscape, Mr. Grahame's voice came to her out of the bed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I want to speak to you."</p> + +<p class="normal">She heard him, but it was not until he had repeated the same +sentence three times that she chose to favour him with her +attention. Bringing her head back into the room she turned her +face slightly towards the speaker.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why did you marry me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Because I was told that you would be dead inside two hours."</p> + +<p class="normal">Although the reply was brutal in its plainness, it did not seem +to hurt him in the least--indeed, it seemed rather to amuse him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's a poor reason. What were you to gain by my death?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Dr. Twelves told me that I should have twenty thousand pounds."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Did he? I see. That was the bait. You're a ready-witted young +woman."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You mean that you think I'm a fool."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not at all; no more than the rest of your sex, or, for the +matter of that, of mine. We're all fools; only some of us are +fools of a special brand. Who are you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm your wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You've told me that already. I mean who were you before you +were my wife?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She moved her hand to and fro, restlessly, upon the window sill.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I've half a mind to tell you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Make it a whole one. Yours should be a story not without +features of interest. Besides, a husband ought to know something +about his wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">She stood up straighter, her back to the window, looking towards +the bed with gleaming eyes. It was evidently easier to provoke +her to an exhibition of temper than him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll tell you nothing. I'm your wife; that's all I'll tell you; +and that ought to be enough."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is--more than enough. You're an embodied epigram. I think I +can guess at part of your story." The indifferent, almost +assured tone in which he said it brought her near to wincing. +"My eyes are not so bright as they were--no, not so bright--but +they're bright enough to enable me to perceive that you're +young, and not bad-looking--after a sufficiently common type. +You appear to be one of those big, bouncing, blusterous, +bonny--four b's--young females who spring out of the gutter by +the mere force of their own vitality; who push and elbow +themselves through life with but one thing continually in +view--self. You're probably ill-bred, ignorant, impudent and +imbecile--four i's--four which are apt to go together--and, in +consequence, blundering along rather than advancing by any +reasonable method of progression, you'll keep tumbling into +ditches and scrambling out again, until you tumble into one +which will be too deep for you to scramble out of, and in that +you'll lie for ever."</p> + +<p class="normal">To hear him, in his dim, distant, uninterested tones, mapping +out, as it were, a chart of her life and conduct, affected her +unpleasantly. When he had finished she had to pull herself +together before she could deliver a retort which she was +conscious was sufficiently futile.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I daresay you think yourself clever."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm afraid you're disappointed. If I'm not altogether to be +congratulated on having you for a wife, neither are you to be +altogether congratulated on having me for a husband."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Congratulated! My stars!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Exactly--your lucky stars. Come, I've drawn a little fancy +sketch of the kind of wife you appear to me to be; tell me, what +kind of husband do you think I am?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Think! I don't think; I'm sure you're a monster. You ought to +be in Barnum's show--that's where you ought to be."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That is your candid opinion? Your tone has the ring of genuine +candour. It's an illustration of how one changes. Would you +believe that once--not so long ago--I was remarkable for my good +looks as well as my figure?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Tell that for a tale!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm telling it for a tale that is told--and over. It must have +been a disappointment when you learned that I was not dead."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was. I could have shook old Twelves when he told me. Perhaps +I'll do it yet."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Will you? That will be nice for Twelves. I should like to be +present at the shaking. You look as if you could shake him."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should think I could--shake the bones right out of his body. +I'm as strong as a horse--stronger than most men. I once thought +of coming out as a strong woman, only I didn't fancy the +training."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Didn't you? By training do you mean clean and healthy living? +Is that what you disliked?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She had already repented her lapse into the autobiographical.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Never you mind what I mean."</p> + +<p class="normal">"We won't; why should we? May I take it that you have got over +the disappointment of not finding me dead, and have become +reconciled to the idea of my living?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You don't look to me as if you would live long, considering +that you're as good as dead already."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You think so. We've not been long at arriving at that stage of +perfect candour which, I fancy, marks the career of the average +husband and wife. I think you're wrong. I am one of those beings +who are very tenacious of life. I'm only fifty, whatever I may +look. There's no real reason--your friend Dr. Twelves will tell +you--why I shouldn't live another five-and-twenty years."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't care what he says after what he told me. I'll bet you +don't."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Suppose I do, would you propose to spend them with me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should do as I like."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I begin to suspect you'd try to. Let me put the case in another +way. What would you want to leave this house and never re-enter +it again?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Twenty thousand pounds."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is that your lowest figure?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Thank you. I will give the matter my careful consideration. In +the meanwhile may I ask you to leave me for a time? My +conversational powers soon become exhausted; with them I am apt +to become exhausted too. A little rest might do you good."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Listen to me. I came here so that you and I might understand +each other."</p> + +<p class="normal">"We have gone some distance in that direction, haven't we?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't think you have, or you wouldn't talk to me like that. +It may be clever, and cutting, and that kind of thing, but I +don't like it. I'm your wife, your equal, more than your equal, +since you're lying there like a log, already more than three +parts dead. I'm the mistress of this house; this room is as much +mine as yours."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is. That's what you've got to understand. When I choose to +leave it I will, but not a moment before. So don't you order me +about, because I don't intend to let you, and there'll be +trouble if you try."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Am I to understand when I ask you to leave the room, my +bedroom, in spite of your courteous hint of a moment back, that +you refuse?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are; you bet you are. And you're to understand more than +that; you're to understand that if you're not careful what airs +and graces you take on with me, I'll stuff a handkerchief into +your mouth. Then we'll see what you'll do next. A helpless lump +like you to talk to me--your lawful wife!--as if I were nothing +and no one. I'll soon show you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Will you? Maybe you'll first be shown a thing or two yourself, +my lady!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The tones were familiar. They were not those of the man in the +bed. Looking round Isabel found that Nannie was glaring at her +from the other side of the room.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_07" href="#div1Ref_07">CHAPTER VII</a></h2> + +<h3>A TUG OF WAR</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">Perceiving that Isabel made no reply, Nannie addressed her +again, with both in her manner and her words perhaps a +superfluity of truculence.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What for have you left your room and come here disturbing Mr. +Grahame, you bold-faced hussy?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Nannie's appearance and the vigour of her speech, both of which +were probably a trifle unexpected, seemed to take Isabel +somewhat aback. It was not unlikely that a rapid debate was +taking place in her mind as to what exactly was the <i>rôle</i> it +was most advisable that she should play.</p> + +<p class="normal">One point was obvious, that the moment had come when it would +have to be decided, possibly finally, just what position in the +household hers was going to be. If she was to be its real +mistress--as she had boasted that she was, and would be!--then +it was out of the question that Nannie should be allowed to +speak to her in such terms as she had just employed. How was she +to be prevented? In her own way Isabel was not a bad judge of +character. In the course of her short life her adventures had +been so many and various that it had grown to be a habit to +measure herself against nearly every one with whom she was +brought in contact. Nannie was a dour old Scotchwoman. Isabel +was perfectly conscious that she was not likely to be +subdued--to the point to which she desired to bring her--by +words alone. She herself was wholly devoid of scruples. As to +self-respect, she was incapable of realising what it meant. She +had been brought up in a school in which that sort of thing was +not taught. Her early days had been spent among women who were +quite as ready to resort to physical force as the men, which was +saying not a little. As she had grown older she had never +hesitated to use her muscles when her tongue was beaten. She was +quick to perceive that this was a case in which she would have +to use her muscles again, if she did not wish to degenerate into +something worse than a figure-head in the house which she +aspired to rule.</p> + +<p class="normal">The only question she had to decide was whether she would be a +match for the Scotchwoman. It would be worse than vain to +challenge conclusions if she was likely to be proved the weaker. +Brief consideration, however, persuaded her that there was but +little fear of that. Her ankle was against her, and the fact +that she had been inactive for a fortnight. But, on the other +hand, though tough and brawny, Nannie might be old enough to be +her grandmother. Even though handicapped by her ankle, Isabel +did not doubt that she excelled her both in sheer strength and +in agility, while as to knowledge of how to make the best of her +powers she was convinced that, as compared with her, the other +was nowhere.</p> + +<p class="normal">She resolved to bring the question as to who was to be mistress +to an issue then and there--if necessary, in the presence of the +man in the bed. Instead of answering Nannie she put a question +to him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who is this objectionable old woman?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"My housekeeper."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then, perhaps, you'll tell your housekeeper that, where I'm +concerned, if she can't keep a civil tongue in her head and mend +her manners, she won't be your housekeeper long--or mine +either."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hadn't you better tell her so yourself?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Does that mean you're afraid to?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Never interfered in the housekeeping since the day I was born, +nor with Nannie either. She's always run this house as if it +were her own."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then the sooner she understands that she's not going to do so +any longer the better it will be. If you won't make that plain +to her, then I will. Now, my woman, remember that I'm your +mistress, and that I'll stand impertinence from no one--least of +all from a servant of mine. Leave this room at once; I'll talk +to you when we're alone."</p> + +<p class="normal">Nannie seemed to be surprised almost into speechlessness by the +other's attitude and manner of addressing her. It was a second +or two before she could find words with which to illustrate her +feelings.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of all the brazen impudence! That a nameless besom, picked up +from the roadside in the middle of the night, should have the +face to speak to me like that! And you to call yourself Mr. +Cuthbert's wife! Why, you're nothing but a shameless trollop! +And though the doctor said that Mr. Cuthbert was to be kept as +quiet as possible, if needs be I'll take you out of this room in +my two arms, as you well know I did before. So out you come +before I make you!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Go it, Nannie!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The mocking encouragement from the man in the bed was to Isabel +as the final straw. She did not allow him to range himself, +before her face, on the woman's side. From words she proceeded +to measures. Traversing the room with a rapidity which wholly +ignored the twinges which proceeded from her injured ankle, she +planted herself immediately in front of Nannie.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Are you going to leave this room, or am I to put you out of +it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Me to leave Mr. Cuthbert's room, and ordered out of it by you! +It'll be you that'll be put out of it, and that pretty quick, +you----"</p> + +<p class="normal">Isabel did not wait for her to finish; she anticipated the +volley of compliments which had no doubt been intended to follow +by straightening her left arm in the most approved fashion, and +striking the other full on the nose with a vigour and +unexpectedness which caused the old woman to lose her balance +and go toppling over on to the floor. Before she had a chance to +recover, Isabel had the door wide open, and began bundling the +still prostrate Nannie unceremoniously through it. She was +conscious that words were proceeding from the man in the bed, +but what they were she neither knew nor cared. It was not her +intention, if she could help it, to continue the proceedings in +his room. Having got the other out of the room somehow, she shut +the door behind her, determined to let him know as little of +what was to follow as circumstances would permit, at any rate +till all was over.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then she waited for Nannie to rise, which she did with an +agility which did credit to her years. As the other had possibly +foreseen, the old woman was beside herself with rage. She rushed +blindly at her opponent, who was at once cooler and more +experienced in little discussions of the kind. Although hampered +by her ankle she had no difficulty in evading the other's mad +onrush, at least sufficiently long to enable her to receive her +with a hail of blows directed impartially at her face and body. +The proceedings had only lasted a few seconds, and were waxing +momentarily warmer, when they were interrupted by some one who +ascended the stairs. It was Dr. Twelves. As was only natural, +being very far from edified by the spectacle by which he was +confronted, he raised his voice to remonstrate.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What does this mean? Have you two women gone mad, that you +behave like drunken fishwives? Nannie!--Mrs. Grahame!--shame on +you!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Nannie, who had been severely pommelled, and had so far got much +the worst of it, abstained, for the moment, from her attempts to +return some of the marks of esteem with which she had been +presented, and proceeded to vouchsafe some sort of explanation. +As, however, she talked at the top of her voice, which failed +her badly, and had to stop at uncomfortably short intervals to +gasp, it was rather difficult to make out what she said, and +when that was done it was not easy to join her observations with +each other and supply them with a meaning.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Put me out of Mr. Cuthbert's room!--ordered me out!--hit me in +the face, that had never been laid hands on by any but my +mother!--knocked me about as if I were an old rag-bag!--a +bold-faced besom that's nothing in the world but the clothes she +stands in!--and less character than that!--before I've done with +her I'll strip her to her impudent skin!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Nannie proceeded to do it. The attempt could scarcely have been +called successful, because no sooner had she brought herself +within the reach of the other's dangerous left arm than she +received a smashing blow in the face which sent her staggering +backwards. The course of the combat had brought her near the +head of the stairs, uncomfortably near, as the event immediately +showed. Before she was able to recover herself, reaching the +topmost stair, she went crashing down it on to the doctor who +stood remonstrating below. Luckily for him he was on the bottom +step but one, so that he had time to move somewhat aside before +she was in his immediate neighbourhood. As it was she sent him +cannoning with uncomfortable violence against the wall, while +she herself came toppling on to the landing with a bang which +shook the house.</p> + +<p class="normal">Silence followed--a speaking silence. Above was Isabel, a really +striking figure, as, with flushed cheeks, flaming eyes, clenched +fists, straightened arms, she stared down on her victim in the +depths below. The doctor, more startled than hurt, seemed to be +in two minds what to do or say. With one eye, as it were, he +looked at Isabel up above, and with the other at Nannie down +below. At last he spoke, addressing himself to the triumphant +figure up above.</p> + +<p class="normal">"For all you know you may have killed her."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It will serve her right if I have!" came the defiant response.</p> + +<p class="normal">That she was not killed was soon made plain by Nannie herself.</p> + +<p class="normal">"She's broken my leg!--and I'll be bound half the bones in my +body!--the she-devil! Oh, doctor, what'll I do?"</p> + +<p class="normal">There came the voice from above.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You'll stop that noise! and if you're wise you'll cut out your +tongue! Because the next time you say a rude thing to me, or of +me, as sure as you're lying there, I'll have you dragged into +the road, and there you shall be left; you shall never set foot +inside this house again--I promise you that!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor had been leaning over her, as if to ascertain the +nature of her injuries.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I believe you have broken her leg."</p> + +<p class="normal">"To be sure she has! Oh, doctor, doctor, I told you we'd rue the +day you brought her into the house!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Next time I'll not be content with breaking half the bones in +her body--I'll break them all!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hush, woman! you forget yourself; have you no pity?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I've pity for those who deserve it, but not for an unmannerly +servant who tries to bully her mistress, and then whines when +she herself gets thrashed instead! And look here, Dr. Twelves, +don't you think that I'm an ordinary woman, because I'm not----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That I am rapidly beginning to believe."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't you interrupt me when I'm speaking, not even by attempts +to be smart, especially as you happen to be one of those silly +old men who are not meant to shine in that line. If you'd got an +ordinary woman into the mess you've got me by your lies and +humbug, I daresay you'd have been able to do as you liked with +her. I suppose that's what you and that old woman have been +reckoning on. But I want you to understand just once, and once +for all, that you're mistaken. It's going to be the other way +round; I'm going to play this game, in my way, not yours; I'm +going to do as I like with you. You'll take your instructions +from me, and from me only. If you want to be allowed on these +premises you'll treat me as a lady and as the mistress of the +house ought to be treated. Who's that down there? I heard you +sneaking about and listening! Come up here and let me look at +you." A shock-headed young woman appeared, followed, at a +respectful distance, by one still younger. "If you two are my +servants--and I suppose you are, or you wouldn't be there--if +that old woman can't walk alone pick her up, carry her to her +room and put her to bed, and leave her there; then go on with +your work and let me have no nonsense."</p> + +<p class="normal">All this time Nannie, who still lay motionless, had been +groaning in what was evidently genuine pain. The doctor, who had +been bending over her, remarked a little dryly:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"I trust you will pardon me, Mrs. Grahame, but I think her leg +is broken".</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, what of it? It's her fault, not mine; she's brought it on +herself. She may think herself lucky that her neck's not broken +after the way she's behaved. I'd have thrown her out of a window +if there'd been one handy, and it would have served her +thoroughly well right. I suppose you don't want her to lie +there, littering up the stairs, even if her leg is broken. She +carried me to my room as if I were a sack of potatoes, now they +shall carry her. Do you hear what I say, you two?"</p> + +<p class="normal">So Nannie was borne to her room with anything but the honours of +war.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_08" href="#div1Ref_08">CHAPTER VIII</a></h2> + +<h3>THE MINIATURE</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">Like some other persons, so long as she had her own way, and +nothing occurred to annoy her, Isabel could be quite agreeable. +Now that Nannie was laid low, and Dr. Twelves accorded her the +respect she demanded--at least outwardly, for she continually +suspected him of having his tongue in his cheek--she proceeded +to show that there was a side to her character which was not +altogether unpleasant. The household--what remained of +it--consisted of two raw damsels, whose English was of such a +quality that Isabel not infrequently found herself at a loss to +understand what they were saying. They made no secret of the +fact that they were by no means heart-broken at Nannie's +discomfiture. She had ruled them with a rod of iron, and they +were by no means sorry that some one had tried her hand at +ruling her--with distinctly solid results. Especially was this +the case when they learned that the new mistress was inclined to +be as lax as the dethroned one had been rigid. So long as the +work of the house was done--and there was not much of it as +Isabel managed things--they were free to do pretty well as they +chose, even to the extent of there being practically no watch +kept on their outgoings and incomings.</p> + +<p class="normal">The truth was that the new Mrs. Grahame was above all things +desirous that no watch should be kept on her. Most of her time +was spent in ransacking the house from top to bottom--an +occupation she enjoyed immensely, and found no little to her +profit. Now that Nannie was laid on her back, and--since at her +time of life a broken leg is no small matter--promised to remain +there for some time, there was no one to say her nay. Isabel +turned out every cupboard and every drawer; waded through every +scrap of writing they contained; appraised every article she +found--and, indeed, assembled quite a nice collection of what +she deemed the more valuable trifles in her own apartment, for +her personal use and consolation. She lighted on what, to her, +was a considerable sum of money. On this, she learned, Nannie +had been accustomed to draw for various current expenses. She, +of course, regarded it, there and then, as her own personal +property.</p> + +<p class="normal">Her first appearance out of doors took the form of a visit to a +neighbouring small town--not Carnoustie--where she purchased +such articles of attire as she imagined she required, together +with a trunk to contain them. These she paid for out of Nannie's +store. She did not think it necessary to inform Mr. Grahame how +she had used what was, after all, his money. She did not seem to +think it worth her while to tell him anything.</p> + +<p class="normal">Her mind was occupied with various problems. First and foremost, +she was extremely anxious to ascertain how much money the man +she called her husband actually had, where it was, and how it +could be got at, say by one who had a right to get at it. Almost +as if he were conscious of what was transpiring in her brain, +Cuthbert Grahame took advantage of an opportunity which arose, +or which he, perhaps, made himself, to volunteer some +information on the subject on his own account. The afternoon on +which the conversation took place would have been memorable for +something else, even if he had not seen fit to make her the +receptacle of some very interesting confidences.</p> + +<p class="normal">Isabel was an active young woman; healthy, full-blooded, +vigorous, one in whose veins the blood ran strong. Inaction to +her was punishment. So soon as her ankle permitted, and it +proceeded to a rapid and complete recovery, she spent a portion +of each day in taking the air--that portion of the day which was +not spent in prying into everything the house contained. As her +researches drew to a conclusion--as even the most thorough +investigation allowed them to do in time--that unoccupied +portion became more and more. So, having examined the inside of +the house she turned her attention to the outside, to learn that +her husband's estate was of considerable extent. She wandered up +and down it, to and fro, till she began to be almost as +intimately acquainted with it as with the contents of the +residence. One afternoon she was indulging in one of these +rambles when she received what really amounted to a shock.</p> + +<p class="normal">She was passing through one of the woods of which her husband's +property seemed chiefly to consist, and was resting on the bole +of a tree, when she heard the sound of wheels. She was perhaps +in a peculiar mood, because it immediately brought back to her +that night on which she had listened--with what an anxious +heart!--to the wheels of Dr. Twelves' approaching trap. +Passers-by, thereabouts, were few and far between; for days +together she would not encounter any. She had grown to love +seclusion, possibly for sufficient reasons of her own. She was +seated on a slope. The road began at the foot, perhaps thirty +feet away. She instinctively altered her position, so that, +while she could see herself, the trunk of the tree almost +entirely screened her from observation. She wondered who was +coming, peeping round to see. When she did see she drew back +with a start.</p> + +<p class="normal">In the dogcart which presently appeared was her husband--her +real husband--Gregory Lamb. The sight of him took her wholly by +surprise, and filled her with unwonted perturbation. What was he +doing there? What could have brought him to that neighbourhood? +She had taken it for granted that he had long since returned to +London. Even Mrs. Macconichie's--supposing he was still there, +which seemed unlikely--was a good twelve miles away. She was +conscious that he was not alone in the trap. Who his companion +was she had not noticed; she had not time.</p> + +<p class="normal">The vehicle drew rapidly level with the tree on which she +rested. She decided that she might venture to peep again, and +was just doing so when the horse shied so violently that the +cart was almost overturned. Recovering itself, apparently +getting the bit between its teeth, it bolted like a thing +possessed, and vanished from her sight, though not before she +had nearly convinced herself that the man with her husband--the +one who was driving--was Dr. Twelves. She had only seen him from +the back, and then had had but occasional glimpses through +intervening trees for half-a-dozen seconds, but she was almost +sure that it was he. There was, however, just a possibility that +she was mistaken, and it was that possibility which worried her. +She would have liked to have been certain, either one way or the +other. Then, in the case of the worst, she might have been +prepared.</p> + +<p class="normal">For the juxtaposition could but mean trouble for her. She was +too clear-sighted to delude herself with the notion that the +doctor was anxious to be a friend of hers. He had, to outward +seeming, accepted the situation; probably, in part, because, as +she herself put it, she was no ordinary woman; and partly +because, under the circumstances, considering the part which he +himself had played, he did not see what else there was for him +to do. Let him, however, learn how wholly baseless was her claim +to occupy the place which she had arrogated to herself, and she +did not for a moment doubt that he would use that knowledge to +oust her from it in the shortest possible space of time.</p> + +<p class="normal">The only two points on which she had her doubts were: Was it +really the doctor who was driving Gregory Lamb? and, if so, had +Gregory Lamb given him cause to even suspect the relation in +which she stood to him? On a third point there was no doubt--the +dogcart had been moving from, not towards the house, so that in +any case the peril was not actually approaching her now.</p> + +<p class="normal">Another thought suddenly occurred to her, one which set her +heart beating faster than was altogether agreeable. The doctor +and her husband might have been to the house already, in which +case danger might be awaiting her return to what she had learned +to call her home.</p> + +<p class="normal">That was a question which might be quickly resolved--she would +resolve it quickly. She started off homewards then and there, +telling herself as she went that, whatever had happened, or +might happen, they should only be rid of her on terms of her +own.</p> + +<p class="normal">It turned out that, so far, nothing had happened; to that +extent, at least, her agitation had been uncalled for. No one +had been near the house since she had left it; nothing had +happened which was in any way out of the common. The relief she +felt at learning even so much showed how real she had imagined +the danger was. With some vague idea of subjecting him to +cross-examination and learning if he had suspicions of her of +any sort or kind, so soon as she had removed her hat she paid a +visit to Cuthbert Grahame's room.</p> + +<p class="normal">As usual, he lay immobile between the sheets, preserving that +death-in-life rigidity which, it seemed, was to continue his +condition to the end. The sight of him struck in her an unwonted +note.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't you get tired of lying there?--especially on a day like +this, when the sun is shining and the breeze is stealing among +the trees and flowers?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She did not strike a responsive note in him. He was silent for +some seconds, then he asked, in his strange, far-away voice, +which was like a husky whisper--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Aren't you well?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh yes, I'm well enough. I'm only wondering if you're not tired +of being ill. It seems to me that you might as well be dead as +keep on lying there with only your voice alive--and that's +pretty nearly done for."</p> + +<p class="normal">She had returned to her more familiar mood.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Tired!--tired!" He repeated the word twice, then after an +interval went on: "What's the use of being tired of what has to +be? I'm tired of you, but it seems you have to be--so what's the +use?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't see why you need be tired of me. I'm no more to you +than a chair or table."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're my wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Your wife! It's because I'm your wife that I'm likely to get +tired instead of you. I'm not a helpless statue--I'm a woman; I +don't want a dead log--I want a man."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I was once a man."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You a man!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Seems queer, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't believe it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yet I was, physically, not a bad sample of a man. Now the Lord +knows what I am!--a husk, I suppose. There's a man inside me +somewhere still."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You look as if there were, and you sound it."</p> + +<p class="normal">She laughed, not pleasantly. It was one of her defects that her +laughter seldom had a pleasant sound, as if it were only the +spirit of malice which had power to move her to mirth.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You've confessed why you married me. Do you know why I wanted +to marry you, or any one? I'd have married your friend Nannie if +she'd agreed, but she refused point-blank."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is that true?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Quite. It was only when she persisted in her refusal that the +doctor thought of the woman he'd found in a ditch. Since +anything in the shape of a woman would serve he hauled you up +the stairs." She was still. She was standing in her favourite +position by the open window, looking out at the woods on the +slope of the hill. "Shall I tell you why, when already looking +into hell--and I had a good look, I promise you!--I wanted to +marry any one?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I know."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who told you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Dr. Twelves."</p> + +<p class="normal">"He seems to have imparted to you a good deal of useful +information. What did he tell you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That you'd made a will in some one's favour, which you wanted +to break, and that was the easiest way to break it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Did he tell you who the some one was?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was a woman. Do you hear--it was a woman!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I hear."</p> + +<p class="normal">"A young woman--younger than you and prettier. Prettier? My God! +You're not bad-looking in a way, but there's a streak of the +vulgar in you now. No one could ever mistake you for a lady. +You're one of the blowzy sort; you'll become impossible; +hard-featured; flame-coloured cheeks; bold, staring eyes; huge, +unwieldy, gross. She!--she's the most perfect woman God ever +made, and she'll only improve as the years go by."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I've met that kind of woman before."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not you. She's not to be found in the sort of society in which +you've moved."</p> + +<p class="normal">"She's to be found in the penny novelettes--never out of them. +You and your perfect women! In spite of her perfection you don't +seem to have found her all milk and honey, or you wouldn't have +been so keen to break that will of yours."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you know why I wanted to break it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Some silly nonsense. Because she tried to scratch your eyes +out, I daresay--serve you right if she did."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Because she wouldn't marry me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Because----!" She stopped to burst into noisy, strident +laughter. "She must have been a fool. I should have thought any +one would have married you if you'd made it worth their while."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I told you that she was not the kind of woman you have ever +met; she's clean beyond your understanding. Put your hand +underneath my pillow--gently. You'll find a case; take it out."</p> + +<p class="normal">Isabel looked at him, hesitating, as if in doubt of his meaning, +then she did as he had told her. He was propped up on a nicely +graduated series of pillows. As she withdrew her hand, the case +between her fingers, she dragged one of the pillows with it +right from under the one on which his head reposed, so that, +denuded of its support, his head fell back. In a second he began +to choke before her eyes. His face grew bluer and bluer; the +veins stood out through his skin; he fought for breath; his +stertorous gasps shook him from head to foot. She raised his +head to its normal position, returning the pillow to its place. +As she watched him struggle back to what--to him--was life, she +laughed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It wouldn't take long to make an end of you."</p> + +<p class="normal">By degrees he regained the use of his attenuated voice.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I do want careful handling--that's so. Still I wouldn't murder +me if I were you--it would be murder. Murder has to be paid for +in full. It would be hardly worth your while to be compelled to +render full payment for such a remnant as I am. Have you got the +case? Open it."</p> + +<p class="normal">She held a square Russia leather case, in corn-flower blue. She +looked for a spring or for something which would enable her to +get at its interior, but found nothing.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Does it open? I don't see how."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's a little idea of my own that spring. I didn't want any one +to see what is inside but me. But it's so long since I've seen +that I have grown hungry for a look, so you shall have one too. +I think I should like you to have one. Hold the case between +your finger and thumb, one of them exactly in the centre of each +side, then press firmly."</p> + +<p class="normal">Obeying him, immediately one of the sides flew open in the +middle, revealing, framed in the other, the miniature of a young +girl. Isabel was no artist; she was incapable of appreciating +the artistic value of the portrait which confronted her. What +struck her instantly was that it was surrounded by what looked +like three rows of precious stones--pearls, sapphires, diamonds.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Are they real?" she inquired.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you mean the stones in the setting? They are. The pearls are +there because she is the queen of pearls; the sapphires, because +they are her favourite stones; the diamonds, because I chose to +have them."</p> + +<p class="normal">"They must be very valuable."</p> + +<p class="normal">"They cost a lot of money, and they'd fetch a lot. That is the +girl I wanted to marry me. What do you think of her?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"She is pretty."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Pretty! She's beautiful."</p> + +<p class="normal">"She's too fair for me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's because you're dark. I hate dark women--always have +done. Hold the case open in front of me. Let me look at her."</p> + +<p class="normal">She did as he asked. No change took place in his expression; +none could take place. His voice remained the same; that also +was incapable of modulation. Yet she knew that an alteration had +taken place in him; that as he gazed the man of whom he had +spoken, who was inside him somewhere, was stirred to his inmost +depths.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not beautiful! She's the most beautiful creature in the world. +She always has been; she always will be. God bless her! though +He has been hard on me." Then, after a pause, "Take the case +away and shut it, and put it back beneath my pillow--gently. +That glimpse will last me a long time, thank you. Though I may +never look at her again, her face will be with me always to the +end. Before you close the case you might look at her again more +carefully. Perhaps, after you have gazed at her attentively, +understanding may come to you; you may begin to perceive the +beauty which was hidden from you at the first."</p> + +<p class="normal">She returned, the case still open in her hand, to the window in +front of which she had been standing.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_09" href="#div1Ref_09">CHAPTER IX</a></h2> + +<h3>THE SLIDING PANEL</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">The silence remained unbroken for some seconds. Then he asked--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, what do you think of her now?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I think she's pretty, as I said. You may think her beautiful. I +daresay plenty of men would; that sort of thing's a question of +taste. I tell you what I do think beautiful--that's these +diamonds. The sapphires and the pearls are all very well, but +the diamonds are the stones for me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You would think that. You're the sort of woman who'd admire a +gaudy frame, and have no eyes for the picture that was in it. If +you like I'll tell you who she is and all about her. It may seem +like sacrilege to talk of her to you, but I think I'll tell you +all the same."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Tell away. I suppose it's the old, old story: she met some one +she fancied more than you. Men always do think that sort of +thing is wonderful. But I don't mind listening."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, there was some one she liked better than me. That was the +trouble."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It generally is, while it lasts; then it turns out to be a +blessing. But, of course, you've never had the chance."</p> + +<p class="normal">"As you say, I've never had the chance. Her name--I won't tell +you her name--though why shouldn't I? Her name is Margaret +Wallace."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Scotch, is she?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Her father was Scotch, her mother English. He was my dearest +friend. When he died----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He left his only daughter, then a mere child, and that was +all."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That was all, and as you say she was a mere child. You seem to +have had some experiences of your own."</p> + +<p class="normal">"One or two. I'm more than seven."</p> + +<p class="normal">"So I should imagine."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You took her to your own home, found her in food and washing, +and pocket-money now and then. As she grew older her wondrous +beauty and her many virtues--especially the first lot--warmed +your withered heart. When she attained to womanhood you breathed +to her the secret of your passion, which she had spotted about +eighteen years before; but as she didn't happen to be taking +any, of course the band began to play. Isn't that the sort of +story you were going to tell, only I daresay you wouldn't have +told it in quite that way?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I certainly shouldn't have told it in quite that way."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You had expended on her two hundred and forty-nine pounds +nineteen and sixpence ha'penny, besides any amount of fuss, so +her ingratitude stung you to the marrow. Still you might have +borne with her; you might not even have altered the will which +you had made in her favour, and which you kept shaking in her +face; only when she took up with another chap she seemed to be +coming it a bit too thick. You cried in your anger, 'I'll make +you smart for this, my beauty!' So you started to make her +smart; but it seems to me that you've done most of the smarting +up to now. Was it her cruelty which made you the pretty sight +you are?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not altogether."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not altogether! You don't mean to say that when you wanted her +to be your wife you were anything like what you are now? A nice +kind of love yours must have been!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I appear to have acquired a really delightful wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you weren't a dead log it might be that you'd find out how +true that was. Any man with a touch of spice in him would give +the eyes out of his head for a wife like me, and there have been +plenty who were ready to do it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"As you yourself observed, these things are a question of taste. +So you think she was justified in treating me as she did?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Justified for not wanting to marry a thing like you! You ought +to have been drowned for hinting at it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am myself beginning to think that your point of view may not +be wholly incorrect, and that, therefore, it was fortunate that +I did not die on the night we were married."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You wouldn't--you have, of course, your own point of view. From +mine it is fortunate that I have been spared to enable me to +make another will."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How are you going to make a will, when you can't move so much +as a finger?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I can have one drawn up according to my instructions. You will +find that I'm capable of signing it. Would you have any +objection?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It would depend on what there was in it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I see. May I ask if you are under the impression that if I die +without a will--even supposing our marriage is valid----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's valid enough, don't you be afraid."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm not afraid; you, I fancy, have the cause to fear. But I +say, supposing our marriage is a marriage--as to which I say +nothing either one way or the other--if I die intestate do you +imagine that you will necessarily come into possession of all I +have?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Have you any relatives?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not one in the whole wide world."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then you bet I shall."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You may bet you won't."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who's got more right to what you leave behind than your lawful +wife?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It depends. Under no circumstances would you inherit more than +half of my personal property, and a third of my real estate; the +rest would go to the Crown."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Half's something! Look here, Dr. Twelves told me that if I +married you I should have twenty thousand pounds. Have you got +as much?"</p> + +<p class="normal">There was an interval before an answer came. Possibly the man in +the bed was considering what answer he should make to such a +very leading question.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I cannot tell you exactly what I have got, but I may safely +venture to assert this much: If all I possess--land, houses, +shares and so on--were to be turned into cash to-morrow, I +should find myself with at least two hundred thousand pounds."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Two hundred thousand pounds! Go on!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"This is a curious world, and Fortune is a curious jade; she +bestows her gifts with feminine irresponsibility. She gives one +health and strength and youth--and empty pockets--just when he +could get enjoyment out of full ones. To another, crippled +limbs, physical helplessness, premature old age--and pockets +brimming over--just when money is of as little use to him as +pictures to the blind. I have been denied most things except +fortune. Sounds ironical, doesn't it? As with Midas, everything +I have touched has turned to gold--in my case a thing wholly +worthless. I never made a bad money speculation in my life. I +doubt if I ever made an investment which did not pay me ten per +cent. Some of my investments have paid me forty and fifty per +cent, for years, and are worth ten times what I gave for them. I +wasn't worth twenty thousand pounds when I began life; now, to +adopt your phraseology, I'll bet I'm worth more than a quarter +of a million."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And yet you live in a place like this, without a horse in the +stable, and the garden like a wilderness!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why shouldn't I? Where would you have me live? In a castle? +with an array of servants who would take my money and from whom +I should have to hide. A well-bred servant wouldn't be able to +endure the sight of such an object as I am. All I need is a bed +to lie on, some one to put food between my lips, money to pay +for it. Since here I have those things, here I have all I need. +Besides, you should bear in mind that, as nothing is being +spent, there will be all the more to leave behind."</p> + +<p class="normal">She was silent; her face turned towards the open window, the +miniature in its jewelled case still in her hand. His words had +fired her imagination. A quarter of a million!--this man worth a +quarter of a million!--and he supposed himself to be her +husband! Not long ago she had told herself that a certain and +clear five pounds a week earned by singing and dancing at the +minor music halls would be her idea of fortune. She had married +that deceitful humbug, Gregory Lamb, because she believed that +he might possibly have as much as a thousand a year. What was a +thousand a year compared to a quarter of a million! If he died +without a will half of it would be hers, or was it a third? Why +shouldn't she have more than that? If he had no relatives to +make a fuss, why shouldn't she have it all?</p> + +<p class="normal">Even as she asked herself the question an answer came to her +dimly, yet with sufficient clearness to start her trembling. It +was born of an idea which would have disposed most women to do +more than tremble. Her breath came faster; her eyes brightened; +something like a smile wrinkled her lips; the vista presented to +her imagination, which would have appalled most persons, +titillated her.</p> + +<p class="normal">After a while she asked, without turning her head--</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you were to make a will, what would you put in it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll show you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"When?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now. There's a secret hiding-place in this room. If you tried +do you think that you could find it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'd find it fast enough."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then find it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What sort of place is it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's asking for assistance. I'll give you this much. It's in +the wall, concealed by a panel of wood. Now I've given you the +scent, follow it to a finish--if you can."</p> + +<p class="normal">"In a room like this there might be fifty hiding-places."</p> + +<p class="normal">"There might."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It would take days to examine it thoroughly; however long it +might take me I'd find it. I'd strip the walls of everything +before I'd give it up."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't think you need go so far as that just yet. Look round; +you've hawk's eyes; I've given you a hint; can't you make a +likely guess, like the sharp-witted child who is playing +hide-and-seek?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Isabel's glances were travelling round the room searchingly, +resting here and there, allowing nothing to escape them. When +they had traversed the whole apartment from floor to ceiling in +one direction they returned in another.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are not tricking me? There really is a secret +hiding-place?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"There really is."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And you say it's behind a panel in the wall?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's it."</p> + +<p class="normal">Her eyes in their return journey had reached the great wooden +fireplace. Although she did not know it, it was a fine specimen +of old carving. What she did notice were the rounded posts which +served as pillars. There were four, two longer and two shorter, +each supporting a shelf on which there were ornaments. She +wondered if the posts would turn. Probably something recurred to +her mind which she had read about a movable post, though she +could not have said just what it was or where she had read it. +She had a notion that she would try if the posts in the +fireplace turned, when she was stopped by a remark which came +from the man in the bed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're looking in the wrong place; so as I don't want your +search to occupy you days, I'll tell you where it is." Even as +he spoke it struck her--rather as a vague suspicion than +anything else--that he did not want her to pay too much +attention to the fireplace. She waited for him to continue, +which he did at once. "You see the bracket in the corner on my +left. Go to it. Take down the vase which stands upon it, then +lift the bracket out of its socket." She did as he told her. +"You see the boss just at the top of the socket. That releases +the catch. Press it, then slide upwards that part of the panel +which is immediately at your right."</p> + +<p class="normal">Again she followed his directions. A portion of the woodwork, +three or four inches wide, and about a foot in length, yielding +to her touch, disclosed an open space behind.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's an envelope in it, a blue envelope; take it out."</p> + +<p class="normal">There was an envelope, apparently nothing else. On the front was +an inscription, whose crabbed characters had apparently been +written by a feminine hand. "This envelope contains Cuthbert +Grahame's will, and is not to be opened till after his death." +The two flaps at the back were secured by big red seals.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Never mind what it says. I'm Cuthbert Grahame, and I tell you +to open the envelope, although I don't happen to be dead. Take +out the paper which you'll find inside. Read it; you can read it +aloud if you like."</p> + +<p class="normal">She read it aloud. The handwriting was identical with the +cramped caligraphy on the envelope.</p> + +<p class="normal">"'I give and bequeath all the property of which I die possessed, +both in real and personal estate, to Margaret Wallace, +absolutely, for her sole use and benefit.--CUTHBERT GRAHAME. +Witnesses, NANNIE FORESHAW, DAVID TWELVES, M.D., Edin.'"</p> + +<p class="normal">With the exception of a date at the top that was all the paper +contained.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That is the will you broke by marrying me, or, if you prefer +it, which I broke by marrying you. There isn't much to be said +for the phraseology--it wasn't drafted in a lawyer's office. +Nannie wrote it down to my dictation--at that table over by the +window there. She doesn't write a very excellent fist, but it'll +serve. That's as sound a will as if it had been drawn by a +council of lawyers, and, to the lay mind, a good deal plainer +than they'd have made it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you mean to say that what's on this paper is enough to put +Margaret Wallace into undisputed possession of a quarter of a +million of money?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It would have been if I hadn't married you; my marriage has +made it so much waste-paper. You may tear it up, or keep it if +you please; it makes no difference. I intend to make another +will."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What are you going to put in it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Exactly what's in that, only the date will be different. It's +the date in that which renders it nugatory."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Aren't you going to leave me anything?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why should I?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Dr. Twelves told me that if I married you I should have twenty +thousand pounds."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm not responsible for what Dr. Twelves may assert."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are--in a way, and you know it. Because he only brought me +up so that you might die in peace, and, I expect, at your own +express command."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Grahame was silent, possibly considering her words.</p> + +<p class="normal">"A cheque for a hundred pounds would amply repay you for what +you've done--or I might make it a hundred guineas."</p> + +<p class="normal">"A hundred guineas! Listen to me--you're my husband."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You've observed that on some previous occasion."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And I'm your wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That also has already become ancient history."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I want you to understand just the way in which I see it. I'm +the mistress of this house, and no one sets foot in it--or in +your room--without my express sanction and approval."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Won't any one? We shall see."</p> + +<p class="normal">"We <i>shall</i> see! I'll write you just the will you want, as +Nannie did, if you'll let me add a sentence leaving me--say, +five thousand pounds. It ought to be more--twenty thousand was +what Dr. Twelves promised--and you can make it as much more as +you like, but I'll do it if you make it that." As, when she +stopped, he was silent, she again went on: "If you don't let me +add such a sentence you shall make no will at all--as sure as +I'm alive I swear you shan't. I'll have my bed brought in here +to stop you doing it at night--you may trust me to take care you +don't do it by day. As your wife I've my rights, and you're a +helpless man. I mean to take advantage of my rights--to the +fullest possible extent!--and of your helplessness. You ought to +know by now that in such a matter I'm the sort of woman that +keeps her word."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have a sort of notion that you might do your best in that +direction--from what I've seen--and heard--of you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You can bet on it!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Let me follow you clearly. Am I to understand that you will +draw up yourself a will identical in all respects with the one +you have in your hand, if I allow you to add an additional +clause by which you are to benefit to the extent of five +thousand pounds?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's what you're to understand--just that."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And that you'll assist me to sign it in the presence of two +witnesses?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll assist you all I can."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll think it over. Five thousand pounds is a deal of money for +what you've done, and for the sort of woman you are; but--I'll +think it over. When would you do it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you say the word I'll do it right now."</p> + +<p class="normal">There was a considerable pause, then he repeated his former +observation:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll think it over." After a pause he added: "Put back that +miniature underneath my pillow--this time gently, if you please. +Close the panel; replace the bracket and the vase. You may take +the will with you if you like, so that you may get it well +into your head. I'm tired--I've talked enough. I want to be +still--and think."</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_10" href="#div1Ref_10">CHAPTER X</a></h2> + +<h3>THE GIRL AT THE DOOR</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">When Isabel left Cuthbert Grahame's room her brain was in a +tumult. She had so much of which to think that she found it hard +to think at all. The discovery that his wealth was so altogether +beyond anything of which she had dreamed as possible; the +unearthing of his will--from such a hiding-place; the facts she +had learned of Margaret Wallace, and which she had herself +embroidered--these things were in themselves enough to occupy +her mind to its full capacity for some time to come. Yet they +were far from being all she had to think about. The miniature, +in its jewelled setting--especially the jeweled setting!--was +likely to be a subject of covetous contemplation until--well, +until something had happened to it, or to her. Then there were +the pillars in the fireplace. Something--she could not have told +what--had filled her with the conviction that the recess behind +the sliding panel was not the only hiding-place the room +contained. She was possessed by a desire to examine those four +rounded posts--to examine them closely--to ascertain whether in +their construction there was anything peculiar.</p> + +<p class="normal">But beyond and above all these sufficient causes for mental +agitation there was still another, one far greater--the will she +might have to draft, which she felt certain she would be asked +to draft. The idea which she had at the back of her head, which +had prompted her suggestion, was of such a character that it +almost frightened her. Like Cuthbert Grahame, she wanted time +and opportunity for thought. She had it in contemplation to risk +everything upon the hazard of a single throw--everything, in the +widest sense of that comprehensive word. To put her notion into +execution needed courage of a diabolical kind. Failure involved +utter and eternal ruin. Success, on the other hand, would bring +in its train all the pleasures of which she had scarcely dared +to dream.</p> + +<p class="normal">On her return from her walk, having learned that Gregory Lamb +had not put in the appearance she had feared, she had sent the +two maids on an errand. They were raw, country wenches, +ignorant, slow-witted. It seemed hardly likely that, under any +circumstances, she would find them dangerous, yet she was +strongly of opinion that it was advisable, if, as was possible, +the deserted Gregory did call, that she should be the person to +receive him. Nannie was still confined to her room, so that +Isabel had but to be rid of the underlings to have practically +the whole house at her mercy.</p> + +<p class="normal">It has been said that small things make great generals, since it +is the eye for trivial details which wins big battles. The +little act of foresight which prompted Isabel Lamb to clear the +premises of that pair of Scotch wenches not impossibly changed +the whole course of her life--not because what she had foreseen +happened; what actually occurred she had not even looked for.</p> + +<p class="normal">The dining-room had a large bay window which commanded the path +leading to the front door. As she stood there, with her brain in +a state of almost chaotic confusion, something caught her eye--a +figure on the carriage drive. It was still at some distance; it +disappeared nearly as soon as she saw it. She kept her glance +fixed on its vanishing point. As for some moments nothing was +visible, she was beginning to suppose that she must have been +mistaken, when she saw it again. It was still to a great extent +hidden by the trees and brushwood, but it certainly was there. +Isabel instinctively drew back, although in any case she must +have been entirely invisible. Instantly her brain became clear. +The perception of approaching danger, which had on her the +effect of bracing her up, restored to her at once the full use +of her faculties.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is it Gregory?" she asked herself.</p> + +<p class="normal">If it had been he would have had a warm reception. But it was +not, as was immediately made clear. The figure was that of a +woman--reaching a point where the ground was clearer, she could +be plainly seen. She was walking very fast, with long, even +strides.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who is it?" the woman at the window asked herself. "It can't be +one of the girls--they won't be back for a couple of hours or +more. I know them! Besides, they don't move like that. Nothing +feminine's been near the place since I've been in it. So far as +I know, there's nothing feminine hereabouts to come. As for +callers, we don't have them. What's likely to attract a woman to +a house like this? Why, I do believe it's a lady--that dress was +never made in this parish. And--she's young! Where on earth have +I seen her before? I have seen her, but where? My stars!--the +miniature! It's Margaret Wallace!--come to see the man she +jilted! Here's a nice to-do!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The approaching figure had come clear of the carriage drive, and +was now in full sight. As Isabel had acknowledged to herself, it +was unmistakably that of a lady. The dress might be proof itself +to another woman's keen perception, but there was other evidence +as well. The way in which the stranger bore herself--her +carriage, the easy grace which marked her movements, at least +suggested breeding. As the face became visible all doubt was at +an end. This was certainly a lady who, as it seemed, was coming +to call.</p> + +<p class="normal">Was the purport of her presence here merely to pay a passing +call? Did she simply wish to make a few inquiries, and then +return from whence she came? Would she be content with a few +more or less civil words being spoken to her at the partly open +door, or would she insist on entering and being allowed to visit +Cuthbert Grahame in his room? In that case Isabel's domination +would be at an end. The chances were that those two had but to +exchange half-a-dozen words, and the castle which she had +already in imagination builded would resolve itself into an +edifice even less substantial than a house of cards. The wild +scheme of which she had conceived the embryo would never move +from that condition. The situation out of which she had +determined to wrest a great opportunity would be there and then +at an end if Margaret Wallace won her way past that front door.</p> + +<p class="normal">But would she win it? The fates were on Isabel's side. Nannie +upstairs helpless in her bed; Cuthbert Grahame still more +helpless in his; the two girls out--Margaret Wallace would have +to reckon with her. Isabel overrated herself if, in such a +contest as was likely to ensue, she did not prove the better of +the pair.</p> + +<p class="normal">A sudden thought occurring to her she hurried into the hall. By +some fortunate chance the front door was closed, so that she +remained unseen by the approaching visitor. She remembered that +she had closed it when she herself had come in; as a rule it +stood wide open. If it had been then it would have been +impossible for her to perform the part she proposed to play. As +soon as she reached it she turned the key--only just in time. +Within thirty seconds the handle was tried by some one on the +other side.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That settles it," observed Isabel to herself. "I didn't look at +the face in the miniature so closely as all that, it was the +setting which occupied me. I might have mistaken the likeness, +and it mightn't have been Margaret Wallace after all. But the +style in which she turned that handle gives her away. She's come +in and out of this house too often not to be aware that, even if +the door does happen to be shut, you've only got to turn the +handle to come in. When she found that it wouldn't open, I'll +bet that she had a bit of a shock. Holloa! it seems that she +can't believe it now. I daresay it's the first time in all her +life that she's found that door closed against her."</p> + +<p class="normal">Something of the kind did seem possible. The person on the other +side was giving the handle various twists and turns, as if +unable to credit that the door was actually locked. It was only +after continued efforts that the fact was realised. There was an +interval, as if the person without was considering the position.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now what'll she do?" wondered Isabel. "Go round to the back, +and see if she can't get in that way? She won't think it a +possible thing that both doors can be locked. The odds are that +she's come in one way as often as the other. She won't come in +that way this time, and so I'll show her."</p> + +<p class="normal">On stealthy feet Isabel, stealing to the back of the house, both +locked and bolted the door which gave ingress to the house on +that side. As she was ramming the top bolt home a bell clanged +through the house followed by the rat-tat-tat of a knocker.</p> + +<p class="normal">"So she's concluded not to give herself the trouble of trying +the back door, at least for the present. Now what'll I do? One +thing's sure, I'm not going to be in any haste to answer either +her ringing or her knocking. Possibly if no one does answer +she'll be tricked into thinking the house is empty." The bell +and knocker were audible again.</p> + +<p class="normal">"She's pretty impatient; she doesn't give a person over-much +time to answer, even if one wanted to. What a row that bell does +make--sounds as if it were rusty. I daresay it isn't rung more +than once a year. It'll startle those two upstairs--it's a time +since they heard it. There she is again. She'll hurt that bell +if she isn't careful. I'd like to hurt her--if she doesn't watch +out I will before she's finished. That's right, my dear, give +another pull at it! Pretty rough on Grahame. If he only knew who +was ringing what wouldn't he give to get at her--especially if +he understood that this is the only chance he'll ever have; and +to have to lie there like a log, and let it slip between his +fingers! As for Nannie--that old woman's got the nose of a +bloodhound--I shouldn't be surprised if she smells who's at the +door. If she does I shouldn't wonder if, broken leg or no broken +leg, she tumbles out of bed and tries to get down somehow to +open it. She hadn't better. She'll break it again if she +does--if I have to help her do it! No one's going to interfere +with that door but me! I'm not going to have her hammering and +clanging till those two girls come back, that won't suit my book +at all. And as she looks like doing it the sooner I get rid of +her the better."</p> + +<p class="normal">The upper panels of the front door were of coloured glass, the +panes, which were of different hues, shapes and sizes, being set +in leaden frames. While it was possible for whoever was within +to obtain a vague impression of some one without, it was +impossible for whoever was without to see anything of the person +within. It was of this fact that the quick-witted Isabel +proposed to take advantage. Among the various accomplishments +which fitted her, in her opinion, to shine in the halls was that +of mimicry. Drawing close up to the glass panels she exclaimed, +in tones which were intended to represent the broken-legged +Nannie's--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who's that as wants to break the bell of a decent body's +house?"</p> + +<p class="normal">That the assumption was not entirely unsuccessful was shown by +the response which came instantly from the other side of the +door.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is that you, Nannie? You silly old thing! Where have you +been? What have you been doing? And why have you locked this +door?--open it at once!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"And to whom will I open it, please?"</p> + +<p class="normal">There came a peal of girlish laughter as a prelude to this +reply.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nannie, you are an old stupid! Do you mean to say that you +don't recognise my voice as well as I do yours? Why, I'm Meg +come back to see you again!--open the door at once, you goose!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll no open the door this day."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nannie!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Margaret Wallace, I tell you I'll no open the door for you this +day, so back you go from where you came."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nannie! how can you speak to me like that! How dare you!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm but obeying Mr. Cuthbert's orders, and it's not fear of you +that'll stay me from doing that."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you mean to tell me that Cuthbert Grahame forbade you to let +me into the house?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He did a great deal more. He said that if you ever came near it +he'd bring half-a-dozen dogs to set them at you. So take +yourself off, and be quick about it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But, Nannie, I don't understand."</p> + +<p class="normal">"None of your lies! It's plain enough! So be off to where you're +wanted--if it's anywhere."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But, Nannie, what have I done that you should speak to me like +this? You always used to take my part."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's no part of yours I'll ever take again. Are you going?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I only want to talk to you. If you'll only open the door I +promise you I won't try to get in if you don't want me to."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I can have all the talk I want with you as we are. Will you be +off?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Won't you let me have one look at you, Nannie, and give you +just one kiss?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll have none of your kisses, and I never want to look at you +again till you're lying in your coffin."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nannie! there's something about the way you talk which I don't +understand. It's not you to speak to me like this. I insist upon +your opening the door. I don't believe Cuthbert Grahame ever +told you not to--I know him too well to think that's possible. I +shall keep on ringing and knocking till you do open, and so I +tell you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then you'll keep on some time, I promise you that. I know what +Mr. Cuthbert's orders are better than you. If I was to empty his +gun at you I'd only do what he'd wish me to."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nannie! But, Nannie, I've come all the way from London. It's a +very long way, and costs a deal of money, and nowadays I haven't +much money, as you know. You're not going to send me back like +this."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is it the fare back to London that you're wanting? If it's to +beg you've come, I'll give you the fare out of my own pocket, so +that Mr. Cuthbert may be rid of you in peace."</p> + +<p class="normal">This time in the girlish voice there was a ring of unmistakable +indignation.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nannie! you're a wicked old woman! I believe that you've some +wicked scheme in your head of which Cuthbert Grahame knows +nothing. You sound as if you were capable of anything. If you +don't let me in this moment I'll get in without your help."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How are you going to do that, pray?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you think I can't? I'll soon show you! If you think I'm +still a foolish girl to be tyrannised over by you, you're very +much mistaken. I won't believe that Cuthbert Grahame doesn't +wish to see me till he tells me so with his own lips."</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_11" href="#div1Ref_11">CHAPTER XI</a></h2> + +<h3>HOT WATER</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">A hand was raised on the other side of the door and brought +smartly against the glass. The whole panel shivered; the blow +would only have to be repeated two or three times to destroy it +altogether. Whipping the key out of the lock, Isabel hurried up +the staircase, slipping it into her pocket as she went. Although +she had no fear of an entry being made, she was very far from +desirous of being seen. That would involve the discovery of the +fraud she had been practising. If Miss Wallace learned that it +was not Nannie who had been addressing her in such +uncompromising terms, it was scarcely likely, even if driven by +force from the house, that she would leave the neighbourhood +without effecting her purpose of seeing Cuthbert Grahame. So +Isabel, determined that that should not happen, resolved to +adopt extreme measures.</p> + +<p class="normal">When she gained the top of the stairs she could already hear the +glass shivering in the door below. Rushing into the bath-room, +snatching up a couple of pails which the not too tidy maids had +left there, and filling them at the tap, she strode with them to +the landing-window which overlooked the entrance. She had filled +them at the hot-water tap, and the steam came against her hand.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It isn't very hot," she told herself. "There's just enough +sting in it to make her a little warmer than she is already."</p> + +<p class="normal">The window was wide open. She peeped out to see that the girl +was immediately below. Balancing both pails on the sill she +turned them over together. That the contents had reached the +mark was immediately made plain by the cries which ascended from +below.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nannie! Nannie! you've scalded me! you've scalded me!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Isabel replied, still taking care not to allow so much as the +tip of her nose to be seen through the window--</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll scald you again in half a minute--you'll find the water's +boiling next time, I promise you. What's more, I'll take Mr. +Cuthbert's gun to you, as he bade me. You shameless hussy! to go +breaking his windows because he won't have you set your foot +inside the house that you've disgraced!"</p> + +<p class="normal">This diatribe from the supposititious Nannie was followed by +silence below. Isabel, who found the suspense a little trying, +was half disposed to venture on a glance to learn what was +taking place. Unmistakable sounds, however, arose just as she +had made up her mind to run the risk. Margaret Wallace was +crying. Presently she exclaimed, in tones which were broken by +her sobs--</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm going, Nannie. You needn't trouble to get Mr. Cuthbert's +gun, nor to wait till the water's boiling. Whatever Mr. +Cuthbert's orders may have been--and I know I've used him badly, +and deserve anything from him--I never thought you'd have +treated me like this. I've never done you any harm, and you've +always pretended that you loved me. I hope you'll never regret +driving me away like this from the house that has always been a +home to me! Oh, Nannie! Nannie!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The girl uttered the last two words in such poignant tones that +Isabel thought it extremely possible that they penetrated to the +woman to whom they were actually addressed. After a moment's +interval footsteps were audible below. Then, as Isabel drew back +behind the curtain, she could see through the loophole that +Margaret Wallace was returning whence she came. She moved with a +very different step to that which had marked her approach. Her +feet seemed to lag, her head hung down, and she kept putting her +hand up to her eyes to relieve them of blinding tears. Her +attitude was significant of the most extreme despondency. +Apparently some remnants of her pride still lingered. It was +probably those fragments of her self-respect which prevented her +from once looking round to glance at the house from whose +precincts she was being so contemptuously dismissed.</p> + +<p class="normal">Isabel watched the defeated mien which characterised the girl's +whole bearing in the moment of her humiliation with a smile of +triumph.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's one to me. It's on the cards that it's the one that's +going to win the game. I guess she's feeling pretty bad. It +can't be nice, if your pockets aren't too well lined, to come +all the way from London just for this. I daresay she meant to do +the conscience-stricken act--tell him how sorry she was, ask his +forgiveness, have an affecting reconciliation, and all that kind +of thing. I expect she was drawing pictures of how it all was +going to be as she came along in the train. I rather fancy those +pictures won't get beyond the outline. She'll be trying her hand +at sketches of another kind as she goes back again. I wonder how +she'd feel if she knew how she's been bluffed by an insolent +adventuress, and that Nannie hadn't had a hand in the game at +all. She'd feel pretty mad! I wonder how Nannie feels if she so +much as guesses at what's been going on. I'll give the old lady +a call; and I'll call on Mr. Cuthbert Grahame. But before I do +that I think I'll write a few lines on a sheet of paper--on a +couple of sheets."</p> + +<p class="normal">Before she quitted her post of observation the unhappy girl had +vanished from sight. Isabel waited for some minutes after she +had disappeared lest something should transpire which might +cause her to change her mind and return. As time passed and +nothing more was seen of her, Isabel decided that she had gone +for good. Descending to the dining-room, seating herself at a +writing-table, Isabel drew from a drawer two large sheets of +paper, similar to the one contained in the envelope which +Cuthbert Grahame had instructed her to take from behind the +sliding panel. On one of these sheets she wrote, in her large, +bold, round hand, a facsimile of the will which marriage had +rendered invalid.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I give and bequeath all the property of which I die possessed, +both in real and personal estate, to Margaret Wallace, +absolutely, for her sole use and benefit." When she had finished +she surveyed what she had written, then added--"With the +exception of five thousand pounds in cash, which I give and +bequeath to Isabel Burney, and which it is my wish shall be paid +to her, free of legacy duty, within seven days of my being +buried".</p> + +<p class="normal">"That only needs his signature and the signatures of the +witnesses. Shall I date it, or leave the date open? I think I'll +be safe in dating it to-morrow. Now for another document very +much like it, but not quite, though as far as appearance goes it +must be as exactly like it as it can be conveniently made."</p> + +<p class="normal">She then wrote on the second sheet what was, with some slight, +but important, differences, an exact reproduction of the words +she had written on the other.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I give and bequeath all the property of which I die possessed, +both in real and personal estate, to Isabel Burney"--she +hesitated, then wrote--"whom I have acknowledged to be my wife, +in the presence of Dr. Twelves and Nannie Foreshaw, absolutely, +for her sole use and benefit"--she hesitated again, and this +time added--"with the exception of five farthings in cash, which +I give and bequeath to Margaret Wallace, and which it is my wish +shall be paid to her, free of legacy duty, within seven days of +my being buried."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That also needs but the signatures and--a little ingenuity." +She had made them, in all respects, so much alike, fitting into +the same space the extra words on the second sheet that at a +little distance it was easy to mistake one for the other. "Now +we'll tear up that old thing, which my appearance on the scene +was so unfortunate as to spoil, and we'll put the new will in +its place--with its brother."</p> + +<p class="normal">She did as she said, folding up the two sheets in precisely the +same creases, putting them into the one envelope. Then she went +upstairs to see Nannie.</p> + +<p class="normal">The old lady's leg bade fair to be a long time healing, nor was +a cure likely to be hastened by her impatience and general +unwillingness to take things easily. So soon as Isabel put her +head inside the room, Nannie, sitting up in bed, aimed at her a +volley of questions.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why haven't you been here before? What's all the clatter been +about--like as if the house was coming down? Such ringing and +hammering I never heard the likes of. What's been the meaning of +it all? Where's them two girls? Why didn't one of you open the +door, like as if it was a Christian house? Why did you suffer +such a hubbub--enough to disturb the countryside? Who's been +talking in a voice like a cracked tin trumpet?"</p> + +<p class="normal">It occurred to Isabel that the last analogy was unfortunate, +since a "cracked tin trumpet" was a not inadequate description +of the screech in which Nannie herself was even then indulging. +The old lady presented a peculiar spectacle--in a huge, ancient +nightcap, tied in a big bow beneath her chin; a vivid tartan +shawl about her shoulders. The visitor replied to the whole of +the inquiries with an unhesitating lie.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nannie, do you know that a dreadful man's been begging, and +trying to force his way into the house. If I hadn't turned the +key just in time I don't know what would have happened." She did +not, but the happenings would have run on different lines to +those which she suggested. "As it was he broke the front-door +window, and I had to pour a couple of buckets of water over him +before he'd go."</p> + +<p class="normal">"A man been begging, and trying to force his way into the house! +Such a thing's never happened in all the days I've known the +place."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I daresay I expect it was some one who's heard that you were +confined to your bed, and thought that I might be easily +tackled. He's found out his mistake."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Where's them two girls?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I've sent them on an errand. Perhaps he knew that too, and that +made him bolder."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I thought I heard a voice I knew."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That must have been mine."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yours! I haven't heard a sound of you. Who was it screeching?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That was me. I was imitating your voice, Nannie. You see I +thought it might frighten him more than mine--and it did."</p> + +<p class="normal">"My voice! Do you mean to tell me that that rasping, creaking +screech was meant to be an imitation of my voice? I'd like to +know whoever heard me talk in that way."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why, Nannie, I'm hearing you talk that way now. Don't you know +your own musical accents when you hear them?--and me giving you +a taste of them to your face!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Laughingly, Isabel treated Nannie to another imitation of her +curious nasal utterance then and there, and was out of the room +before the old lady had recovered sufficiently from her +astonishment to pronounce a candid criticism of the impertinent +performance.</p> + +<p class="normal">From Nannie Isabel descended to the master of the house, to be +greeted by some very similar inquiries.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's been the meaning of all this uproar?" Isabel repeated +the lie she had told Nannie. "That was no man's voice I heard. +It was a woman's, and I could have sworn one I knew."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I expect the voice you thought you knew was Nannie. I was +favouring the ruffian with as close an imitation of her genial +tongue as I could manage."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's not what I mean. I heard you imitating Nannie. Will you +swear it was a man at the door?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of course I'll swear it. Whatever do you mean?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What was he like?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She seemed to consider.</p> + +<p class="normal">"He was rather tall and very broad, with a big red beard. He had +a cloth cap on the back of his head; his coat over his arm; and +he carried a huge stick--about as undesirable-looking a person +to encounter on a lonely road as you could very well imagine. I +should know him anywhere if I saw him again. Do you recognise +him from my description?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I do not. I heard nothing of any man speaking, the voice I +heard was a woman's."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of course it was; I tell you that that was me imitating Nannie. +Don't you understand?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was neither your voice nor Nannie's. It was one I have heard +too often, and know too well, ever to mistake for another. I +could have sworn it was hers; I could have sworn I heard her +pronounce my name. I was not dreaming--I could not have been. +That I should lie here, chained and helpless, and she almost +within touch of me! Why didn't Nannie go down to the door?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nannie?--she's as helpless as you are."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Where are those two servants?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I sent them out on an errand long ago."</p> + +<p class="normal">"So that you've had me at your mercy, and if it was her, you've +had her also. That God should permit it! If you are lying to +me--and I believe you can lie like truth!--may you soon be +consigned to hell fire, to rot there to all eternity."</p> + +<p class="normal">"If the worst comes to the worst, that's a trip on which I hope +to follow you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Swear to me by all that you hold sacred--if there's +anything!--that it wasn't Margaret Wallace at the door."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Margaret Wallace!--are you stark mad?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I believe you're tricking me! I believe I heard her voice! I +believe I heard her pronounce my name!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"If I had thought that you could have got such an idea into your +head as that, I'd have thrown the door wide open, and invited +that murderous ruffian to walk upstairs to you. Then you would +have seen how much he was like Margaret Wallace--that is, if +she's anything like the picture which you showed me. You've been +talking and thinking so much about Margaret Wallace that you've +got her on the brain. Do you think that if it had been her I +wouldn't have brought her right up to you? You're very much +mistaken if you do. I'm no saint, any more than you are, but I'd +no more rob a woman of her happiness than you would--perhaps not +so much. You did try to rob her, and you got me to be your +accomplice--blindfold, as it were. If I'd known what you've told +me this afternoon I'd have seen you--and old Twelves!--the other +side of Jordan before I'd let you make a tool of me. Now that I +do know, I won't rest quiet till you've put her back into the +position in which she was before. Here's that will I spoke to +you about. It's the same as the one which was spoilt, except +that it leaves me five thousand pounds. Five thousand pounds +will be of no consequence to her, while it will make all the +difference in the world to me. After the way in which you've +treated me I ought to have something, and that's the something I +mean to have."</p> + +<p class="normal">Taking out the will which left everything to Margaret Wallace +except the Ł5,000, she held it out in front of Cuthbert Grahame. +He read it through.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That seems all right. Will you help me sign it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of course I'll help you sign it--now if you choose, though I've +dated it to-morrow, because I thought that would give you a +chance to think things over. I tell you that I shan't rest till +that girl's back into her own again." For some moments he was +silent, then he said--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Perhaps I was mistaken."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mistaken about what?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Perhaps it wasn't her voice I heard."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Man, I tell you you were dreaming."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Perhaps I was. If you'd driven her from the door you'd hardly +bring me a will like that directly after. Even if you'd let her +in, you might have guessed that she wouldn't have wanted to rob +you of your five thousand."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of course she wouldn't, any more than I wanted to rob her. We +women are not so bad as that, whatever you men may think."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Put the will under my pillow--gently--with her miniature. As +you say, I'll think things over. Maybe I'll sign it to-morrow."</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_12" href="#div1Ref_12">CHAPTER XII</a></h2> + +<h3>SIGNING THE WILL</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">Cuthbert Grahame did sign his last will and testament on the +morrow, though hardly in the fashion he intended. The way in +which he was tricked was this.</p> + +<p class="normal">Before the woman who called herself his wife went down to her +breakfast she paid him a morning call. He had had a more restful +night than usual, so that he was in an exceptional good-humour. +The sight of her seemed almost to give him pleasure. She was all +smiles and sweetness, which were real enough, since she hoped to +be shortly in possession of a boundless stock of happiness. He +began on the subject directly he saw her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll sign that will of yours."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's right; so you shall. But won't you wait till after +breakfast, then we can have up Jane and Martha to be witnesses."</p> + +<p class="normal">Jane and Martha were the two serving-maids whose absence +yesterday had been so opportune.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll wait. You'll have to have me propped up a little higher; I +shan't be able to sign like this."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll see to that; I'll do everything I can." And she did. She +communed with herself as she ate a substantial meal. "Propped +up? I'll see he's propped up high enough, I promise him--the +higher the better. He can't be propped up high enough for me. It +seems a dangerous game to try to change one paper for the other +right under his very nose, but I fancy I know how it can be +done--and with complete impunity. If he could move so much as a +finger it might be difficult, but propped up as he'll be he'll +be wholly at the mercy of my two hands. I think they're skilful +enough for the job they've got to do." Spreading out the second +sheet of paper on the breakfast-table in front of her, she +studied it carefully, with every appearance of complacency. +"Such a little difference and yet so much--only the substitution +of one word for another, and all the world is changed. I think +'whom I have acknowledged to be my wife in the presence of Dr. +Twelves and Nannie Foreshaw' is a positive stroke of genius. It +commits me to nothing, and establishes my position, because +while he admits his desire to claim me for his wife, there is no +reference to any wish on my part to have him for a husband. The +only trouble will be to prevent his noticing the difference in +the appearance of the two papers, which, however neatly I've +done it, is the necessary consequence of inserting those few +words. But I think I know how to manage that."</p> + +<p class="normal">She did; she credited herself with no capacity which she did not +possess. In every respect she proved herself to be fully equal +to all the requirements of the occasion.</p> + +<p class="normal">She returned to Cuthbert Grahame's bedroom so soon as she had +finished breakfast, the personification of brisk, hearty +good-humour.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now are you ready? Shall we get to business? Is the will still +underneath your pillow? Shall I get it out?" She took from its +resting-place the paper which he supposed himself to be about to +sign. With the aid of some pillows she raised him to a more +upright position. Then she spread the paper out in front of him. +"You see, there's the will. Is that just as you want it to be?"</p> + +<p class="normal">He read it through.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's all right."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then I'll call up Martha and Jane to act as witnesses, and then +you'll be able to sign it in their presence." She called up the +two girls, who came up rubbing their hands on their aprons. She +said to him, "Hadn't you better explain to them what it is you +want them to do?"</p> + +<p class="normal">He explained.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm going to make a new will. Mrs. Grahame,"--he paused; one +almost suspected him of a desire to give the name satiric +emphasis--"has been drawing up a will at my dictation. I'm going +to sign it. I want you to act as witnesses of my signature. +Stand close to the bed so that you can see what I am doing. My +dear"--this was to Isabel; again there was the hint of an +ironical intention--"if you will bring me the will which you +have been so good as to draft for me I won't keep these young +women a moment longer than I can help."</p> + +<p class="normal">She brought him the will--or, rather, a will. It was spread out +on a slope, and covered with a sheet of blotting-paper on which +she kept her fingers to prevent it slipping. Only the last four +lines were visible--"it is my wish shall be paid to her, free of +legacy duty, within seven days of my being buried". What went +before was hidden; the familiar conclusion seemed to be all that +he cared to see. Leaning over him, raising his right arm, as +gingerly as if it had been a piece of delicate porcelain, she +placed his dreadful, helpless fingers somehow about a pen. He +spoke to the two girls.</p> + +<p class="normal">"As you know, I can do nothing by myself, so Mrs. Grahame, at my +request, is going to guide my hand so as to enable me to sign my +will. You understand, it is I who am signing it, not she."</p> + +<p class="normal">It was a strange signature--"Cuthbert Grahame," in big, +sprawling letters; some of them unattached to each other, all +slanting in different directions. The owner of the name, +however, seemed to view the result with undiluted satisfaction.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's my signature--clear enough for any one to read. Now I +want you two girls to attach your names as witnesses to the fact +that I have signed my will in your presence."</p> + +<p class="normal">Isabel removed the slope to the writing-table against the wall. +Then each of the girls wrote her name in turn. When they had +done so they left the room. So soon as they had gone Cuthbert +Grahame spoke to Isabel.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now let me have a look at that will of mine in its finished +condition. Thank goodness it is done. It's a weight off my +mind--a relief for which I have to thank you."</p> + +<p class="normal">Isabel stood at the writing-table, looking down, with a smile on +her face, at the paper he had signed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you say that you want to see your will now that it's all +signed, sealed and finished?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes; didn't you hear what I said? Then I want you to put it +under my pillow. I'll show it Twelves when he comes. He'll laugh +when he sees it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I expect he will laugh. Is Dr. Twelves coming to-day?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He said something about it. If not, then he'll be here +to-morrow. It will keep till then."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh yes; it will keep till then."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What are you waiting for? Why don't you bring the will? Don't I +tell you I want to read it again?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She went to the bed, the sheet of paper extended between her two +hands.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Here's your will, Mr. Grahame; by all means read it again."</p> + +<p class="normal">He read it, once, twice, then again. Then he tried to speak. It +seemed that his voice failed him. It was not pleasant to notice +the stammer which seemed to mark his struggles for breath.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What--what folly's this? That's not the will I signed."</p> + +<p class="normal">Her eyes were dancing with laughter. There was a merry ring in +her voice, as if she was in the enjoyment of an excellent joke.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh yes, it is."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's not the one you drafted."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh yes, it is."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It isn't the one you showed me just now."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Isn't it? Are you quite, quite sure?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of course I'm sure! It's a trick!--a fraud! This is not my +will!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"But, dear Mr. Grahame--I noticed how you called me your +dear!--it is your will. Here's your signature, attested by two +witnesses. After all, there's only a slight difference between +the one you saw and this."</p> + +<p class="normal">"A slight difference, you--you----!"</p> + +<p class="normal">In his efforts to find an expletive to fit the occasion, his +struggles for breath became greater. She went gaily on.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The only difference is that I get everything instead of +Margaret Wallace, and that instead of my five thousand pounds +she gets five farthings. Surely the trifling substitution of a +few words won't matter to you in the least, Mr. Grahame."</p> + +<p class="normal">It seemed that it mattered a good deal. After a tremendous +effort he regained some portion of his voice, enough to enable +him to burst into a string of expletives.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You--you----! You----! It's a fraud! a----fraud! It's a +swindle! Don't you flatter yourself that it will stand! Don't +you think I'll let it stand! Wait till Twelves comes, then I'll +show you!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Wait till Dr. Twelves comes? Suppose he never comes?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What do you mean? What are you doing with that pillow?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Suppose Dr. Twelves never comes, what is to prevent this will +from standing?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What are you doing with that pillow, you----!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm going to stop your saying such dreadful things. It pains me +to have to listen to such language."</p> + +<p class="normal">She snatched away one pillow from beneath his head, and then a +second. She had propped him in such a way that when he was +deprived of their support his head fell back, and there recurred +the scene of the previous afternoon. He began to choke; his +unwieldy frame was shaken by convulsive efforts to breathe; +stertorous gasps proceeded from the region of his chest. He +presented a dreadful spectacle.</p> + +<p class="normal">The sight did not seem to in any way affect the woman who was +standing by his bed, with the pillows still in her hand. She +pressed the bolster farther up his back so that his head +declined at an acute angle; applying her palm to the point of +his chin she forced it lower still. Then she said--</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll place the will as you wished me, Mr. Grahame, under your +pillow".</p> + +<p class="normal">She placed it there, under the single pillow which remained; +then she left the room.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_13" href="#div1Ref_13">CHAPTER XIII</a></h2> + +<h3>THE ENCOUNTER IN THE WOOD</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">Isabel crossed to her own room, put on her hat, smiling at +herself in the looking-glass as she arranged it to her +satisfaction, then went downstairs, and out of the house without +a word to any one. It was perhaps because she was conscious that +Martha was peeping at her through the stillroom window that she +began to whistle. She was still whistling one of the latest +possible melodies when, entering the drive, she turned off among +the trees and struck into the woods. Whistling was one of her +accomplishments: she whistled very well. The sound of her clear +pipe travelled far and wide. No one to hear her, or, for the +matter of that, to look at her either, would have supposed that +she had a care upon her mind. She bore herself like some +lighthearted, happy girl, who, with unstained conscience, looks +the whole world in the face, thinking what a delightful place it +was for a pretty girl to be in.</p> + +<p class="normal">As a matter of fact it was the bright side of the picture which +presented itself to her--the bright side only. In imagination +she saw herself, as she would herself have phrased it, with +"tons of money" and "heaps of friends"; the bright particular +star of a radiant circle. Everywhere she was greeted with +outstretched hands, glad faces and pćans of welcome. Her frocks +were the most numerous and the "sweetest," her carriages and +horses were the finest, everything she had was of the very best, +and she had everything the heart--her heart!--could desire.</p> + +<p class="normal">With that union of the practical with the imaginative which was +not the least prominent of her characteristics she there and +then began to inquire of herself what exactly in her new +position she should do. To begin with, there was the delicate +question of what she should call herself. Should she be Mrs. +Lamb or Mrs. Grahame? Should she revert to her maiden +patronymic, or should she start life again, with a fresh name +altogether, one more in consonance with her new position? These +were points she felt which would depend largely upon +circumstances; she might not have so much freedom in the matter +as she might desire. Then there was the question of domicile. +Where should she reside? One thing was certain, she would not +stay where she was--nothing would induce her. If she had her own +way she would never come near the place again--never! As for +living in his house!--in the middle of her brilliant imaginings +the mere thought of such a thing seemed to make her blood run +cold.</p> + +<p class="normal">On the instant her mood was changed. She stood still, amid the +trees and bushes. With clenched fists, a new expression in her +eyes, she looked behind her, first over one shoulder, then the +other, then to the right and to the left, as if in search of +something she had no desire to see. A sudden, strange reluctance +seemed to clog her limbs. She listened: there was only the +cawing of some distant rooks and the whisper of the breeze among +the pines. With a laugh at her stupidity, breaking through the +something which constrained her, she went striding on.</p> + +<p class="normal">But she had not gone far when a very genuine sound brought her +to a halt. In itself a commonplace, there it was the most +unusual of noises: it was the sound of footsteps, of some one +tramping through the forest. In all the time she had known the +place she had never heard a step except her own. Could it be +Margaret Wallace, still lingering about the haunts she probably +knew well and loved? It would be disconcerting if it were. If +they met--but that was hardly a woman's step. Could it be the +doctor? What was he doing in the forest on foot? Besides, she +had noticed what little pattering steps he took; this person was +striding.</p> + +<p class="normal">The walker was hidden from her by a clump of bracken which rose +to a height of some six or seven feet. He was moving in her +direction. Should she retreat? It could probably be done, and +before he caught a glimpse of her. Should she advance and meet +him? or should she wait until he came to her? While she +hesitated, the decision was taken out of her hands. The walker, +threading his way among the bracken, reached a point where the +stalks were shorter. All at once she found herself confronted +by--Gregory Lamb.</p> + +<p class="normal">She stared at him with as much amazement as he stared at her, +and her amazement was unbounded. Possibly he was the last person +with whom she would have associated the advancing footsteps; no +thought of him had crossed her mind. Not improbably, since she +at least had cause to suspect that he might be in the +neighbourhood, his surprise was even greater than hers. He stood +looking at her in bewildered silence, as if unable to believe +the evidence of his own eyes. When he did speak the observation +which he made was characteristic.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, I'm hanged!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Her retort was equally in character.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I wish you were!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I daresay; but I rather fancy that when it does come to +hanging, where you and I are concerned, it will be a case of the +lady first. Where the deuce have you been all this time? and +what on earth are you doing here?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What business is that of yours? Do you know you're +trespassing?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What business is it of mine? and do I know I'm trespassing? +Well, that's pretty good, considering you're my wife, and the +way you've behaved. Do you happen to know that the police are +scouring the country for you, and that they're only lying low +because they think you're dead, or something?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's a lie! You're a natural born liar; you tell nothing but +lies."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't you think you've a little gift of you're own in that +direction? I do! It was bad enough to sneak off from me like +that; but to steal the old girl's money was playing it too low +down!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What are you talking about? What do you mean?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You know very well what I'm talking about! Do you think that I +don't know--and that everybody doesn't know--that you broke into +Mrs. Macconichie's cupboard and stole her savings? A pretty mess +I got into because you were a thief! You don't happen to know, I +suppose, that they locked me up for what you'd done, and that +they only let me go when I proved that that sort of thing wasn't +quite in my line."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Serve you right!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What served me right?--locking me up, or letting me go?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Anything would serve you right, you brute!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Brute, am I? All right, my lady! if that's the way you're going +to talk to me I'll soon let the police know whereabouts you are, +and then they'll serve you right. A good taste of prison would +do you good, you dirty thief!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't shout like that!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then don't you call me names. I'm not a thief whatever else I +am."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm not so sure of that. What are you doing here?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What do you mean, what am I doing here?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I thought you'd gone back to London long ago."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then you're wrong, because I haven't; and what's more, I'm not +likely to go. I've been having a real bad time, that's what I've +been having."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Haven't those rich friends of yours sent that remittance you +were always gassing about?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, they haven't." After a pause, he added, sullenly, "My old +mother's allowing me a pound a week, and I'm living on that. So +now you know."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Honest?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's the gospel truth. So you'll be able to judge for yourself +how likely I am to be able to get back to London on that, +especially as she won't let me have a penny in advance."</p> + +<p class="normal">"A nice sort you are!--after the lies you told me about the tons +of money you'd got yourself, and the other tons your friends had +got!--a pound a week!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Anyhow I'm not a thief."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And I shouldn't have been a thief if I hadn't listened to your +lies; and very well you know it. I've had enough of you; take +yourself off!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Take myself off?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, take yourself off, before I tell some one to take you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well! you've got a face! If I do go I'll put the police on to +you, and then you'll sing a different song."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You dare!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Dare!" he laughed, not pleasantly. "What is there to dare? I'd +think as little of putting the police on to you as I would of +putting a dog on to a cat. They'd soon show you your place, you +thief!"</p> + +<p class="normal">There was an interval of silence, during which she looked at him +over the intervening bracken. If looks could kill he would have +dropped dead where he stood.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, are you going to take yourself off, or am I to tell them +to take you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who's them?--tell away! I think that when I tell them you're my +wife, and that the police have been looking for you for quite a +while, they--whoever they may be!--won't be so keen to interfere +with me as you perhaps fancy. There's another thing: you seem to +be forgetting that you're my wife. When I do go you'll go with +me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Will I? We'll see."</p> + +<p class="normal">"We will see; or, if you prefer it, it shall be the other way +about, I'll go with you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Will you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It'll have to be one or the other, you may take it from me. +Well, are you going to call those friends of yours? Are you +coming with me, or am I to go with you? Which is it to be? I'm +in no hurry; take your time. I'll have a pipe while you're +thinking it over."</p> + +<p class="normal">He filled a pipe which he took from his pocket, while she glared +at him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm as strong as you; I believe I'm stronger; I believe I could +kill you if I chose."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Be a murderer as well as a thief, would you? I shouldn't be +surprised. You mightn't find it so easy to bring off this job as +you did the other; killing a man is not so simple as killing a +pig, take my word for it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Listen to me, Gregory Lamb."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm listening, Mrs. Lamb, and it gives me real pleasure to do +it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll make a rich man of you if you'll take yourself off."</p> + +<p class="normal">He stayed the lighted match on its passage to his pipe.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You'll make a rich man of me? Now you're singing in quite +another key. How are you going to do it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm staying in the house of a man who's dying."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Dying is he? Then what does he want you in the house for? Have +you turned nurse? Is that your latest caper?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Never mind what I've turned. He's a rich man."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What do you call rich?--like me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You fool! He owns all this"--she threw out her arms--"and ever +so much besides."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Owns all this? Is it Cuthbert Grahame you're talking about?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What do you know about Cuthbert Grahame?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Only that I happen to be living in one of his cottages--just +over there--and a nice hole it is. But you can't expect much in +the way of board and lodging for a pound a week, especially when +you want some change left out of it. You're living in Cuthbert +Grahame's house? Why, then--great Scot!--you must be the woman +they're talking about who dropped from the skies." A change took +place in the expression of his countenance which in its way was +comical. "A pretty sort of she-devil you must be!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now what are you talking about?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I know everything. Why, one of the servants up at Cuthbert +Grahame's--Martha Blair--is the daughter of the people I'm +lodging with. They talk of nothing else but you. You've been +passing yourself off as Cuthbert Grahame's wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, what of it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What of it?--that's good! First theft, then bigamy!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You fool! he's dying."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't see what difference that makes; from what I understand +he's been dying for years."</p> + +<p class="normal">"He's made a will in my favour."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Did he tell you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He did. He's left me everything--every shilling he has in the +world."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're a beauty, upon my soul you are!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"And I tell you that he's dying while we are standing here. The +odds are that he'll be dead by the time that I get back."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How do you know?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then everything he has will be mine--ours."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ours?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ours!--yours and mine!--if you can keep a still tongue in your +head, and keep on pretending that you know nothing about me."</p> + +<p class="normal">He was trembling.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What about the Mrs. Grahame?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Stuff the Mrs. Grahame! After he's dead I can soon be Mrs. Lamb +again. What's to stop me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Shall we have to live here?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She shuddered, involuntarily.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Live here?--not much! We'll clear out of this in double quick +time. We'll take a house in London, and live like princes."</p> + +<p class="normal">He moistened his lips with his tongue.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You'll act on the square with me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of course I will, if you'll act on the square with me. Look +here, there's a ten-pound note for you. It's all I've got about +me, but as you seem hard up you may find it useful. You go back, +and unless I'm mistaken by to-morrow morning you'll hear he's +dead. It won't take me long to put things ship-shape. Don't you +write or try to see me, unless I give you the office. I'll keep +you posted in how things are going. And so soon as I can lay +hands on a good lot of the ready, if you like we'll go up to +town together, and we'll have a real old spree as we go."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Belle, you--you're----"</p> + +<p class="normal">He stopped, as if his vocabulary failed him altogether.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, I know I am; I'm all that, and more besides."</p> + +<p class="normal">She laughed, and he laughed. In the laughter of neither of them +was there any merriment. The sounds they emitted were merely +mechanical.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_14" href="#div1Ref_14">CHAPTER XIV</a></h2> + +<h3>IN CUTHBERT GRAHAME'S ROOM</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">On Isabel's return to the house she was greeted on the threshold +by Martha, the Martha Blair whose connection with Gregory Lamb's +present place of residence seemed destined to have a +considerable bearing on Isabel's future life, and, at least, to +settle the debated question of what her future name and title +were to be. Martha's whole attitude was significant of some +great happening. Her hands were raised; it seemed that if +possible her hair would have been raised too; her eyebrows were +elevated to quite a perceptible degree. Her eyes and mouth were +wide open; agitation, of a not unpleasant kind, streamed from +every pore of her. Behind was Jane, every whit as interested as +her companion; but as she happened to be both the younger and +the smaller her opportunities for display were less pronounced. +Outside stood Dr. Twelves' dogcart; the horse, untended and +untethered, apparently content to stand still as long as any one +desired.</p> + +<p class="normal">Martha broke into speech before Isabel had a chance to plant her +foot upon the doorstep.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh, Mrs. Grahame, the master! Mr. Cuthbert, ma'am!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mr. Cuthbert, ma'am!" echoed Jane from the rear.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mr. Cuthbert? Well, what's the matter with Mr. Cuthbert? Let me +come in, don't stand there blocking up the way! Do you hear, +what's the matter with Mr. Cuthbert?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He's dead, ma'am--he's dead."</p> + +<p class="normal">The words broke from both the girls in chorus.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Dead? What do you mean? What nonsense are you talking? He was +well enough when I went out. I've never seen him better."</p> + +<p class="normal">"He's had an accident, ma'am, and it's killed him."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Accident? How could he have an accident? Is Dr. Twelves in the +house? Where is he?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"The doctor is in Mr. Cuthbert's room. He's been there this +half-hour and more."</p> + +<p class="normal">She went upstairs to Mr. Cuthbert's room. Her pulse did not +quicken; inwardly as well as outwardly she remained calm; she +was a woman whose self-control was above the average; yet she +was reluctant to enter that room. It was with an effort she +induced herself to grip the handle; when she had done so she had +to force herself to give it the necessary twist. Even then she +lingered on the threshold.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who's there?" came the doctor's voice, in accents of inquiry. +She showed herself.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's happened? What's the matter?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor was standing at the head of the bed. He had something +in either hand. Instead of replying to her inquiries he looked +at her from beneath his overhanging brows, as if he had been her +accuser.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why do you look at me like that? Do you hear me ask you what +has happened? Have you all lost your senses? Why don't you +answer?" He waved his hand towards the bed. Her gaze followed +his gesture, with an effort. She knew what she would see; she +did not want to see it. Instantly her glance returned to the +doctor.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is he--is he dead?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Quite dead."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But I don't understand. When I left him he seemed brighter and +better than I have ever seen him before."</p> + +<p class="normal">"He's been killed."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Killed! What do you mean, he's been killed?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Come here, I'll show you." She went a little closer, +unwillingly. "Come this side of the bed." She did as he bade +her, with leaden feet. "You see, the pillows have fallen; he's +been choked."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But how can they have fallen? They were all right when I left +him. Has any one been in since?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Are you sure they were all right when you left him?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Perfectly sure. I tell you I have never seen him in better +health or in brighter spirits."</p> + +<p class="normal">"He could not have pushed them from under him himself."</p> + +<p class="normal">"He might have done it in a fit."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Perhaps; but it would have had to be a singular sort of a fit. +You say you are sure they were in their usual position when you +left him?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why do you ask me that again? Why do you look at me like that, +and speak in such a tone? Are you suggesting that I have had a +hand in his death?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am suggesting nothing."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It seems to me that you are suggesting a good deal, which you +dare not say right out. At least your manner is peculiar--but +that it generally is. If you have anything to say, say it--like +a man!--at once! Don't hint it, like a sneak. I hate your +underhanded ways."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I found this under his pillow--his one remaining pillow."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's his will. He made it this morning."</p> + +<p class="normal">"So I am told by the two servants. I perceive it is in your +writing. Did he dictate to you this document?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He did. I wrote it from his dictation, word for word as he told +me. I wrote it yesterday afternoon. He read it through, and kept +it under his pillow all night. He signed it this morning."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It seems odd that, after completing such a will as this, he +should have immediately died--in such a manner. If he could come +to life again I wonder what he'd say."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Give me that will, if you please, Dr. Twelves."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hadn't I better hand it to his lawyer for safe keeping?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"His lawyer? His lawyer is now my lawyer; I will give all +necessary instructions. The will will be in safe keeping with +me. Give it me at once." He gave it her. "What have you in your +other hand? Some more property of mine?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is the miniature of the woman he loved best in the world. +Don't you think it might go with him, in his coffin, to the +grave?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Give it me. I will give all necessary instructions, as I have +already told you. Your interference is not desired, nor will it +be tolerated. To be quite frank with you, Dr. Twelves--it is +always my desire to be frank and open--I have endured too much +from you already; I will endure nothing more. The less I see, or +hear, of you in the future the better I shall be pleased, since +you are, in all respects, the most objectionable person I ever +met. Don't you venture to intrude yourself again; if medical +attendance is required it will be obtained elsewhere. I +am now the mistress of this house--since there is no master, +its mistress in the most literal sense. Everything is +mine--everything. Be so good as to bear that in mind."</p> + +<p class="normal">He looked at her, and smiled.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am not likely to forget that--ever."</p> + +<p class="normal">She did not know which she liked least--his tone, his look, or +his smile.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_book2" href="#div1Ref_book2">BOOK II</a></h2> + +<h3>THE WIDOW</h3> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_15" href="#div1Ref_15">CHAPTER XV</a></h2> + +<h3>"THE GORDIAN KNOT"</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">Mr. Talfourd twiddled the bunch of La France roses between his +fingers with a smile which was scarcely one of satisfaction. +They were very fine roses--in just that stage of bursting bud in +which the La France is seen at its best. In London La France +roses cost money, even when they are poor examples of their +kind; those were good enough for exhibition. There were a great +many of them, and they were tied about with a beautiful green +ribbon, in charming contrast with the blooms. They had probably +cost some one at least half a sovereign. They were for him; they +had cost him nothing; yet they did not seem to afford him +pleasure.</p> + +<p class="normal">The fact was he was puzzled. He did not quite know what to make +of the situation; what he did understand he did not like.</p> + +<p class="normal">"This gets beyond a jest," he told himself. "Because I happened +to mention, accidentally, that La France roses were my favourite +flowers, I didn't expect to find a bouquet of them on my table +every morning awaiting my arrival. Either it means something or +it doesn't; either way I don't like it. I'm getting three +hundred pounds a year in cash for doing I don't quite know what, +and apparently half as much again in flowers. It won't do--it +will not do." He gave the unoffending roses an impatient twirl. +"The point of the joke is that when I said La France roses were +my favourite flowers I was speaking a little beside the mark. I +don't know that I have a favourite flower. They're Meg's--I was +thinking of her at the time, as I generally am. I don't want +Mrs. Lamb to think that she is giving me flowers, when she is +really giving them to Meg, to whom I invariably pass them on. I +don't know that she would really relish the notion of my giving +her flowers to some one else. Confound her impudence!"</p> + +<p class="normal">He threw the roses from him on to the table with a show of +roughness which they, at any rate, had done nothing to deserve. +As if conscious that his temper was being vented in the wrong +quarter, picking them up again he regarded them with looks of +whimsical self-reproach.</p> + +<p class="normal">While he was still eyeing them the door was opened, and a +masculine voice inquired from without--</p> + +<p class="normal">"May I come in?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Without waiting for a reply the inquirer entered. It was Mr. +Gregory Lamb. A much more resplendent Gregory Lamb than the one +whose acquaintance we have previously made. The Gregory Lamb we +met in the wood was purely an affair of make-believe--not of +very plausible make-believe. His attire then looked as if it +wished you to think it had cost a great deal of money--but the +trained eye knew better. There could be no doubt that everything +about this Gregory Lamb was the most expensive of its kind--only +the trained eye knew really how expensive. The impression he +conveyed was that he had got as much on him in the way of money +as he conveniently could--probably that impression was not far +wrong. Yet the result was scarcely satisfactory. Especially was +this shown to be the case when he brought himself into +comparison with the man who was already in the room.</p> + +<p class="normal">Both were young; both bore themselves well; both were +good-looking; yet there could not be a moment's doubt as to +which was the pleasanter to look upon. It was not only that one +was obviously a gentleman, and the other just as obviously was +not; nor was it that one looked a clever, an intellectual, man, +and the other emphatically did not; still less was it an affair +of costume, since Gregory Lamb was overdressed and Harry +Talfourd's attire was simply plain and neat. It was something +subtler than any of these things which made the one attractive +and the other the reverse. Gregory Lamb had never made a friend +worth having in all his life--and never would; Talfourd made +friends wherever he went. He could not himself have said why; it +was certainly not because he tried.</p> + +<p class="normal">To begin with, Mr. Lamb's manner was unfortunate. His intention +was to be on terms of hail-fellow-well-met with every one; to be +no respecter of persons; to be "my dear chap" with Tom, Dick and +Harry. As a matter of fact, there was an air of patronage about +everything he said and did which was perhaps the more +insufferable because unconscious. He came into the room with +what he meant to be an air of jaunty geniality.</p> + +<p class="normal">"All alone? I thought you would be. It's not your time for +receiving visitors, is it? Just come; I heard you knock; must +have time to breathe before you let them in--eh? Those are fine +roses."</p> + +<p class="normal">"They are not bad ones."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Bad ones!--I should think they weren't. They oughtn't to be; I +happen to know what my wife paid for them." He laughed, as if he +sneered. "Sends you them every morning, doesn't she? Standing +order, I hear. Talfourd, you're in luck."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Talfourd's manner was as cold as the other's was warm.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Lamb is very kind--kinder than I deserve."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Perhaps she knows what you deserve better than you do--trust +her, she's no simpleton. When she takes a fancy she has her +reasons. I say, old man, I want you to do me a favour."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I shall be happy to do you a service if I can."</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's no doubt about the can--not the least in the +world--you'll find that it's as easy as winking. I want you to +get my wife to let me go for a little run to Monte Carlo."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I beg your pardon?--I don't understand."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's this way. I'll be frank with you, Talfourd. I look upon +you as a friend, my boy. I can't go without cash; I'm +stony-broke; my wife holds the money-bags. You tell her--you +know how!"--Mr. Lamb winked--"that you think the run would do me +good, and tell her to give me a thousand to do it with, +and--I'll do as much for you one day, upon my soul I will."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Talfourd stared at the speaker in undisguised amazement.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You credit me with powers of persuasion which are altogether +beyond any I possess."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh no, I don't"--Mr. Lamb laughed again--"I know better than +that! You tell her what I've asked you to tell her, and I bet +you anything I cross by to-night's boat, with notes for a +thousand in my pocket. She'd send me to the North Pole at a hint +from you."</p> + +<p class="normal">There was scarcely such a friendly expression on Mr. Talfourd's +face as on the other's.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Are you not forgetting that Mrs. Lamb is my employer? that I am +merely her servant since I receive her wages?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Her servant?"--the laugh again--"I hope she doesn't overwork +you. Come, Talfourd, be the good sort you are, help a lame dog +over a stile. I'm spoiling for a flutter, and I'm dead sure that +the only chance I have of getting it is by means of a helping +word from you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You must excuse me, Mr. Lamb. I am engaged to do clerical work +for Mrs. Lamb. I should not presume to speak to her on the +subject you have mentioned."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Presume?--what ho! Now Talfourd, you're no kid any more than I +am. You know as well as I do that you can twist my wife round +your finger. All I want you to do is to give her a twist for my +particular benefit."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I can give you no answer but the one I have already given."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh yes, you can--and you will. I'll look in for it to-morrow +morning--by that time you'll have thought it over. You're +not so crusty as you make yourself out to be. That'll be +four-and-twenty hours clean thrown away; and when you're +spoiling for a burst like I am, that's a deuce of time. But I +shall have every confidence in your kind offices when you've had +a chance to see just what I'm driving at."</p> + +<p class="normal">When Mr. Lamb had retired Mr. Talfourd seemed unhappy.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Every time that man talks to me I want to kick him. I wonder if +he affects other people in the same way--the unmentionable +animal! If, as the husband of his wife, he thinks himself +entitled to talk to me like that, it's time for me to think +things over. I must know where I am moving. Three hundred pounds +are three hundred pounds--I know that as well as any one--but +they may be earned too dearly. It is one thing to be Mrs. Lamb's +secretary, quite another to be----" He did not finish the +sentence even mentally. Sitting down to the table he drew +towards him the little heap of correspondence which was supposed +to justify his secretarial existence. There were about a dozen +envelopes, mostly containing circulars of different kinds. "I +believe that the letters are examined, and any of the slightest +importance retained, before they are sent to me. The idea of my +receiving three hundred pounds a year for opening circulars is +too thin."</p> + +<p class="normal">While he sat with both elbows on the table, staring ruefully in +front of him, the door opened again, and Mrs. Lamb came in.</p> + +<p class="normal">"At work? I hope I'm not disturbing you."</p> + +<p class="normal">She had changed more than her husband, whether for the better or +for the worse was not easy to determine. So far as appearance +went she had become a much better imitation of a lady. Society, +or what with her passed as society, had smoothed away some of +the angles. She had the air of a woman who had to do with many +persons of different sorts, and had learned to adapt herself to +them all. One felt that she was probably a popular character on +the stage on which she had chosen to perform--successful, at +least within certain limits. One did not wonder that it was so, +if only because, in her own way, she was good to look at.</p> + +<p class="normal">That way, however, did not happen to be Mr. Talfourd's--which +was unfortunate. Indeed, she inspired him with a curious +feeling. He was afraid of her. It seemed absurd, but he was. For +one thing, he realised that she was not only a clever, an +unusually clever woman, but that her cleverness lay in a +direction in which he was incompetent, and would perhaps +prefer to be. Again, he felt that she read him like an open +book, knew him to his finger-tips, while she was beyond his +comprehension--where, again, he would possibly prefer her to +remain. He had an uncomfortable suspicion that she saw in him +something which was not savoury; that her keenest glances were +continually directed on his weakest points; that it would please +her to find him an undesirable creature. He had no overt cause +to suppose this was so. So far she had been to him nothing but a +friend--a friend in need. But on such a point even the vaguest +shadow of a doubt was disquieting.</p> + +<p class="normal">He rose as she came in.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is not possible for you to disturb me--I wish it were."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You wish it were? Why?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Because in that case I should be really doing some genuine +work--which I never am. My post is too much of a sinecure; my +conscience will not allow me to remain your secretary much +longer if there continues to be nothing to do."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You want something to do? You shall have it--very soon--at +least, I think so. I have been reading your play."</p> + +<p class="normal">"My play?"</p> + +<p class="normal">He had noticed that she was carrying in her hand what looked +like some typewritten MSS., in brown-paper covers. Now, with a +start, he recognised them as his own.</p> + +<p class="normal">"'The Gordian Knot.' Mr. Winton gave it me to read."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Winton! What right----"</p> + +<p class="normal">He was about to ask what right Winton had to do anything of the +kind, but perceiving that that would scarcely be a civil +inquiry, he stopped, not, however, before she understood what +had been on the tip of his tongue.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mr. Winton had every right to give it me to read, as, I think, +you will yourself admit when I explain. I have, of course, known +for a long time that Mr. Winton would like to commence +management on his own account. The other afternoon he told me +that he had a play which he would produce at once if he could +only find some one who would furnish at any rate part of the +necessary capital. I asked by whom it was. He said, 'It's by a +man named Talfourd--Harry Talfourd'. You may easily believe that +that did arouse my interest." She said this in a tone which +seemed to make him go all over pins and needles; it was almost +as if she had caressed him. "I mentioned to Mr. Winton that, +given certain conditions, it was possible that I might be +tempted to enter into such a speculation. He offered to send me +the MS. It reached me yesterday. I read it last night and again +this morning--not once, but three or four times. Mr. Talfourd, +it's first-rate."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's very good of you to say so."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's not good of me. It's a simple statement of a simple fact. +If it were rubbish I should tell you so plainly--if you were the +dearest friend I have in the world. On such matters I have no +hesitation; and I think you will confess that this is a matter +on which I do know something. Your play's first-rate. If we can +agree about terms it shall have an immediate production."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I hardly know what to say to you."</p> + +<p class="normal">He did not. On that play he had founded more hopes than he would +have cared to mention to that friendly lady. Its success would +mean so much to him, and to the woman he loved. It had gone the +usual round of the untried dramatist's play. Hope deferred again +and again had made his heart sick. He had begun almost to +despair that it would ever see the light. Yet now that he was +told that if there was only an agreement about terms--as if +there was any likelihood of a disagreement!--it should have an +immediate production, he was not at all sure that his feelings +were what, under the circumstances, he had supposed they would +have been. It was perfectly true, he did not know what to say to +her. She was glib enough.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Say?--say nothing. Let's talk business, and stick to that. I +mean to. You understand that this is purely a business +proposition which I am about to make to you, and absolutely +nothing else. If I go into this matter it will be on strictly +commercial grounds, and on those only."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I wish I were sure of it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's not nice of you to doubt my word, Mr. Talfourd; before I +have finished you will be sorry for having done so. Before +entering into negotiations for the production of your play, do +you know what would be one of the preliminary conditions I +should be disposed to make?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have not a notion."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That I should be your leading lady."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Lamb!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mr. Talfourd! I presume you are aware that I can act?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I know that you have made some successful appearances in--in +amateur theatricals."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mr. Winton will inform you that those amateur theatricals were +not greatly below the standard of any professional +representations you have seen. Apart from that--this is strictly +between ourselves--I may mention that once upon a time I was +professionally connected with the stage." She did not think it +necessary to mention with what branch of it. "Your heroine, Lady +Glover----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Lady Glover is hardly my heroine."</p> + +<p class="normal">"She is the leading feminine character--the pivotal character; +the one about whom the whole thing turns. To my mind the one +creature of real flesh and blood."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I had hoped that Agnes Eliot was a character of some +importance."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Agnes Eliot?--pooh!--namby-pamby, bread-and-butter miss! She's +not bad in her way, and, I suppose, in a pit-and-gallery sense, +she's the heroine--and not an ineffective one either; but I +assure you I have not the slightest wish to play Agnes Eliot. +Susan Stone, who becomes Lady Glover, is a woman who, in the +face of all obstacles, achieves success; continually confronted +by difficulties, she treats them as so many Gordian knots; she +cuts them and walks straight on. Quite indifferent as to the +means she employs, she always gets there. Considering the +present craze among actresses for what they are pleased to call +sympathetic parts, I think you will agree that that is not a +character which would appeal to every one."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Certainly. Winton is of opinion that in casting the play the +chief difficulty would be to find an adequate representative. As +you say, many actresses don't like to act wicked women."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't know about an adequate representative, but I'm quite +willing to act Lady Glover, and, although I say it myself, I +think you'll find that I shall be equal to the occasion. Indeed, +I am ready to make a sporting bet with you that, in my hands, +Lady Glover will take the town by storm. There's a popular +fallacy that people don't like wicked women--it is a fallacy. +When they're of the right brand, they love 'em--especially men. +Give me a chance, and I'll prove it. I'll guarantee that +seventy-five per cent, of masculine playgoers shall fall in love +with Lady Glover--if I play her. What do you say?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't understand why you should wish to play her."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How's that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"The answer seems so obvious. You--a lady of position, of +fortune, with troops of friends!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Change, Mr. Talfourd, is the salt of life. I'm very fond of +salt. Before I read your play I had no more idea of doing +anything of the kind than I had of flying to the moon. But Lady +Glover went straight to my heart. I saw at once what magnificent +fun it would be to give to the stage a really adequate +representation of the naughty feminine. I knew I could do +it--and I can. So why shouldn't I?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You understand that Mr. Winton has the refusal of the play, and +that I should first have to consult him."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of course I understand that Winton has the refusal of the play, +and of course I understand that you will have to consult him. +I'm not afraid of Winton. He shall be the leading man, and cast +the other parts as he pleases. I'll be Lady Glover, and find the +money. I'll be an ideal Lady Glover. I believe in your heart you +know it. Winton and I between us will make of the play a +monstrous success, and so your fortune will be made, and a few +shillings added to my own. I should dearly like to make your +fortune, if only for one reason--because you don't like me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Lamb!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Which is the more odd, because men generally do. Do you +remember our first meeting?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm never likely to forget it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You don't say that in a tone which suggests an unsophisticated +compliment. I had read that thing of yours in the <i>Cornhill</i>. +Frank Staines said that he had the honour of your acquaintance; +that you were clever on quite unusual lines--as he put it, 'a +cut above the market'--and that in consequence you'd been having +a pretty rough time. You recollect that it was at an early stage +of our acquaintance that I offered you the post of private +secretary."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I wonder if, when you did so, you knew that I'd nearly reached +my last shilling?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'd an inkling. If you hadn't you'd have said no." This was so +literally the truth that he was silent. She understood him so +much better than he did her. He had an irritating feeling that +she was treating him as if he were some plastic material, which +she was gradually fashioning into the shape she desired. "I've +done you nothing else than good turns----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I know it, quite well."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And yet, actually, I believe, on that account, you seem to +dislike me more and more."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I do assure you, Mrs. Lamb, that you are wrong. I do hope I'm +not the blackguard you seem to imagine."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am not wrong, Mr. Talfourd--in a matter of that sort I seldom +am. And you're not a blackguard; you're altogether the other +way. It's a case of Dr. Fell--the reason why you don't like me +you cannot tell. It's not your fault at all--it's sort of +congenital. Don't worry! But that being so, since I have already +done you one or two good turns, it would be delightful to be +able to do you a crowning good turn--to make your fortune; to +make you the most successful man of the day--you, the only man I +ever met who really did, and does, dislike me.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Lamb, I--I can't tell you how you make me feel."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I wouldn't try."</p> + +<p class="normal">He did not. She looked at him and smiled, while he stood before +her, with flushed cheeks and downcast eyes, like some shamefaced +schoolboy.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_16" href="#div1Ref_16">CHAPTER XVI</a></h2> + +<h3>MARGARET IS PUZZLED</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">Miss Dorothy Johnson, balancing herself on the edge of the +table, was playing catch-ball with a pair of gloves.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Margaret Wallace, you're one of the sillies!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Evidently you are not the only person who is of that opinion."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's right--put the worst construction on everything I say, +and think yourself smart."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's just as well that some one should think so. Dollie, +sometimes I'm very near to the conviction that it's no +good--that nothing's any good, and, especially, that I'm no +good; that I might as well own myself beaten right away."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, you are beaten this time, that's sure. What ought +to be just as sure is that you don't mean to be beaten every +time--there's the whole philosophy of life for you in a +nutshell."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But suppose I'm dragging Harry down? I shouldn't be surprised +if it's all through me that his MSS. keep on being returned. +I said to him, 'Let me make drawings to illustrate your +stories--I'd love to'. And I do love to! 'Then we'll send the +stories and the drawings to the editors together.' But they +nearly all come back. I've a horrid feeling that it's my +drawings which ruin them."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Stuff! It's Harry's work that's no good."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No good? How dare you! You've said yourself over and over again +that it's splendid."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's what's against it--it's splendid." Miss Johnson, +stretching her right arm to its extreme length, dangled her +gloves between the tips of her fingers. "Margaret Wallace, +literature means to me at least three pounds a week, it may be +four, if possible, five. I can live on three, be comfortable on +four, a swell on five. The problem being thus stated in all its +beautiful simplicity, it only remains for me to discover the +quickest and easiest solution. I have learned, from experience, +that the <i>Home Muddler</i> is willing to give me half a guinea for +a column of drivel, and the <i>Hearthstone Smasher</i> fifteen +shillings for another. The <i>Family Flutterer</i> prints eight or +ten thousand words of an endless serial at five shillings a +thousand--one of these days I mean to strike for seven-and-six. +But in the meantime there you are--the pursuit of literature has +brought me bread and cheese. Why doesn't your Harry tread the +same path?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"The idea!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of course!--the idea!--and that's where he gets left. It's my +experience that in literature----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Literature!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I said literature. I was observing, when you interrupted, that +it is my experience that in literature"--Miss Johnson paused, +Miss Wallace was contemptuously silent--"men always get paid at +least twice as much as the women. I don't know why; it seems to +be one of the rules of the game. It therefore follows that if +your Harry did as I do he would earn six, eight, ten pounds a +week, which, with management, would keep two--not to speak of +your drawings, which ought to bring in something. I believe the +<i>Family Flutterer</i> pays as much as seven-and-six for a full +page."</p> + +<p class="normal">"My dear Dollie, you know as well as I do that we both of us +would rather starve."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Sweet Meg, I'm not saying you're right or wrong, only, if you +have resolved to eschew the easily earned loaves and fishes, +don't revile because, having set out on the track of the +rarer creatures, you discover--what every one knows, and you +know!--that they are difficult to find. My private opinion +is that Harry will find them one day--if he keeps on long +enough--though I don't know when."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're a comforting sort of person."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm a practical sort of person, which is better. Cheer up, Meg! +he'll get there--and perhaps you will too--though of course his +stories are better than your drawings."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't need you to tell me that."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miss Johnson, descending from the table, put her arm round the +girl who was seated on the other side.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You poor darling! I'm a perfect pig! I say, Meg, are you hard +up?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I always am."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Beyond the ordinary, I mean?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you mean, can you lend me, or give me, any money, you +can't--thank you very much. I'm going to hoe my own furrow, +right to the end."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How about Harry? He gets some of his stuff accepted; then +there's the three hundred pounds a year certain which he gets +for being that party's secretary. I call that practicality, if +you like! He ought to be getting on first-rate."</p> + +<p class="normal">"He doesn't seem to think so, anyhow. As for what you call the +three hundred pounds a year certain, I doubt if anything could +be more uncertain, the engagement may terminate any day. I +believe that Harry is really more worried than I am, and--and +that's saying a good deal."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then the marriage is not coming off just yet?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Marriage!--and you call yourself a practical person!--how can +you be so absurd?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am not sure that I am absurd. If I ever loved a man--which I +am never likely to do, men are such beings!--really loved him, +and knew that he loved me, I shouldn't hesitate to marry him on +a pound a week. Marriage, properly understood, is a spur; it's +not, necessarily, anything like the clog romantic people like +you seem to think it is."</p> + +<p class="normal">When Miss Johnson had gone Margaret Wallace went and stood +before a photograph which hung over the mantelpiece--the +photograph of a man.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I think, Cuthbert Grahame, it's possible that you'll shortly be +revenged; if you knew just how things are I fancy you'd be of +opinion that you're revenged already. If you'd been even a +shadowy semblance of the father you once professed to be, I--I +shouldn't be wondering where I'm to get my dinner from."</p> + +<p class="normal">She examined the physiognomy of the man in front of her as if, +instead of being the most familiar of faces, she saw it now for +the first time. Going back to her seat at the table, she was +examining the drawings which had accompanied the returned MS., +as if desirous of learning what improvement she could make in +them, when there came a tap at the door.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Come in." Mr. Talfourd entered. In a moment she was in his +arms. "Harry!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Meg!--more roses for you." He handed her the La France roses +which had been presented to him by Mrs. Lamb. "What are you +doing?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She was eyeing the roses, without any great show of enthusiasm, +which was possibly lacking because she knew from whom they had +originally come.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Harry, I've more bad news for you--I never seem to have +anything else. The story's back from the <i>Searchlight</i>."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What does it matter?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't like to hear you talk like that, because, you see, we +both know that it matters, dear. Harry, do you think that it +may have been returned because my drawings aren't up to the +mark--honestly?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Honestly, I am certain it has not. Your drawings are at least +as good as my story. I have never met any one who can illustrate +me as well as you do."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You mean that? If I weren't Margaret Wallace would you say so +still?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should. I should congratulate myself on having met some one +who could illustrate me as I like to be illustrated. You +misunderstood me just now. I said what does it matter, because +it doesn't matter, in view of something of much greater +importance which I have to say to you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Harry! what is it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I hardly know how to begin, it's such a queer position. It's +this--in a way, my play's accepted."</p> + +<p class="normal">"'The Gordian Knot'?--by Mr. Winton?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, not by Winton, by Mrs. Lamb."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Lamb?--Harry!" He told her how the play had come into Mrs. +Lamb's hands, and how that lady had expressed her willingness to +give it immediate production, on the understanding that she was +to create Lady Glover. "But I didn't know she could act. Why +should she want to anyhow?--she a rich woman!--especially such a +part! Lady Glover's a horrible creature! I suppose you think +she'd make a mess of it--and of course she would. She must be a +very conceited person."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Sweetheart, shall I tell you, quite frankly, what I really +think?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You hadn't better tell me anything else."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then I'll make you my father confessor. I've a strong feeling, +amounting to a positive conviction, that she'd make a +magnificent Lady Glover. That's one reason why I hesitate."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now I don't understand. If she makes a success of the part, +what else do you want?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll endeavour to explain. For one thing, I think it possible +that she'll make it the part of the play, and so put Winton in +the shade entirely. In the theatre he proposes to manage I'm +certain he's no intention to be overshadowed by any one. Not +that, in such a matter, I'm likely to be too sensitive about his +feelings--but there it is. What, from my point of view, would be +more serious, is that it is extremely probable that, by her +rendition of Lady Glover, she'll warp the play out of what I +intended to be its setting. As she was talking just now it +dawned upon me that, in her hands, the play might become +transformed--something altogether different to what I meant it +to be."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But if it's a success?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Meg, I find it difficult to put into words just what's in my +mind. Of course if it's successful it will mean----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It will mean everything."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It will mean a good deal; but it will mean everything I'd +rather it didn't mean if the success is owing to her."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But it will be your play. In one sense its success will always +be dependent upon others. Really, Harry, I don't follow you. +What is your objection to Mrs. Lamb? She's never done you any +harm."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, she hasn't done me any harm--as yet."</p> + +<p class="normal">"As yet! Do you think she means to? Considering that she +proposes to produce your play, and bids fair to make a great +success of it, it doesn't look as if she did."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Meg--you'll laugh at me--I'm afraid of her."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Afraid of her?--of Mrs. Lamb!--Harry!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I've never been comfortable in her presence since the first +moment I've met her. When she's there I have the sort of feeling +which I imagine a nervous person might have in the neighbourhood +of a dangerous lunatic. I don't know when or how she will break +out, but I feel that sometime, somehow, she will, and that then +I shall have to struggle with her for my life."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Harry! are you in earnest?"</p> + +<p class="normal">He laughed oddly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Meg, upon my word, I can't tell you. She hypnotises me, that +woman--she hypnotises me. Her influence is on me even after I +have left her."</p> + +<p class="normal">"She must be a curious person. I should like to meet her."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Meet her?"</p> + +<p class="normal">He shuddered, involuntarily. "Rather than that you should meet +her I'd---- If I can prevent it you shall not meet her."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why not? I know plenty of people who have met her, and who seem +to think her a distinctly agreeable person--hospitable, good +company, amusing, kindhearted, generous to a degree. Tell me, +Harry, has she ever behaved to you in any way as she ought not +to have done?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"She has not, in one jot or tittle."</p> + +<p class="normal">"To your knowledge has she ever done, or even said, anything +wrong?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No. Still, I would rather she did not produce my play, +especially if she is to act Lady Glover."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Will she produce it if she doesn't?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I doubt it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"There is something at the back of your mind which you're +keeping to yourself. When I think of all that the success of +'The Gordian Knot' would mean to us, of how you've looked +forward to its production, of how we've talked and talked of it, +your present attitude is incomprehensible. It doesn't follow +that because Mrs. Lamb produces your play--and even acts in +it!--that you need therefore make of her a bosom friend if you'd +rather not. I don't suppose it's only generosity which impels +her; I daresay she has an axe of her own to grind."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You may be sure of it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then so have you. I don't see how it matters if it's A, B, or C +who grinds it, so long as it's ground--properly ground; and you +seem sure that it will be that."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have little doubt of it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then tell me, Harry, what is the real, downright reason why you +don't wish Mrs. Lamb to produce your play, and act in it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Because, Meg, I'm afraid of her."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Afraid of her!--of a woman!--who you yourself admit has never +done you anything but good! Harry, you're beyond my +comprehension."</p> + +<p class="normal">Before he could answer there was a knock at the door. A servant +entered with a card on a tray.</p> + +<p class="normal">"A gentleman wishes to see you, miss."</p> + +<p class="normal">She looked at the card.</p> + +<p class="normal">"'David Twelves, M.D., Edin.'. It can't be Dr. Twelves of +Pitmuir?"</p> + +<p class="normal">A voice came from the door.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's that same man."</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_17" href="#div1Ref_17">CHAPTER XVII</a></h2> + +<h3>AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">In appearance the doctor had altered but little since we saw him +last. He was the same little wizened old man, with the slight +stoop, and the sunken eyes which looked out so keenly from under +the thick, overhanging thatch of his shaggy eyebrows. When she +heard his voice, and saw him, Margaret, running to him--before +Harry, before the servant--put her arms about his neck (she +could easily do it, since he was the shorter), and, after +looking at him fixedly, as if to make sure that he was still the +same man, kissed him on the lips.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Dr. Twelves, to think of your coming to see me after all these +years!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"And whose fault is it that I haven't come before? whose fault +I'd like to know?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It certainly isn't mine."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not yours? when I hadn't a notion where to look for you, and +you took care that I hadn't? It's only by the grace of God I've +chanced upon you now. I was looking in a bit of a magazine, at +an illustration which seemed to me to be pretty fair, when I saw +your name in the corner--Margaret Wallace--in your own +handwriting. I can tell you I jumped--there, in the railway +carriage--so that I daresay my fellow-passengers thought that +I'd a sudden gouty twinge or, maybe, rheumatism, for none can +say that I look like a gouty subject. I went straight to the +office where the magazine is published, and I asked them to tell +me where you might be found. I believe they thought I'd designs +upon your life, or, at least, upon your purse. I had to tell +them such a yarn before they'd tell me. Then I took care to +follow the girl up the stairs, so that, if you meant to deny +yourself, you shouldn't have a chance."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Deny myself?--to you?--doctor! what a notion!--as if I should!" +By now the servant had retired; Miss Wallace, who still retained +a hand upon her visitor's shoulder, had brought him into the +room. "Harry, this is Dr. Twelves, of whom you have so often +heard me speak. Doctor, this is Mr. Talfourd, whose wife I hope +one day to be."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I trust, young gentleman, that your deserts are equal to your +good fortune, and that you're properly conscious how great that +is. I've known this lassie since the time she seemed all hair +and legs, for those were the parts of her you noticed most, and +there hasn't been a day on which I haven't wanted her to be my +wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now, doctor, that's contrary to the fact; you know you told me +more than once that Providence had marked you out to be a +bachelor."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And wasn't that self-evident, since you wouldn't have me? Now, +Margaret Wallace, what have you been doing?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Doing? I was talking to Harry when you came in."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll be bound that it's plenty of talking to Harry that you do, +and will do--particularly later on, when you're Mrs. Harry."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Doctor!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What I mean was, have you made your fortune? or are you drawing +pictures for your daily bread?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She looked at Mr. Talfourd quizzically.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have one eye upon my daily bread."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And it isn't too much of it you see, by the looks of you. +You're peaked, and you're thin."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh, doctor! I'm sure I'm not."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And I'm sure you are, and by virtue of my profession I ought to +know. It's a pretty market to which you've brought your pigs. +You might be one of the richest women in England, instead of +being half-starved--with white cheeks and tired eyes."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Doctor, how dare you say such things! It's not true! You've not +improved!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm thinking you've not improved either. You've a stubborn +heart. Why, all this time, haven't you let some of us know +something about you?--if it was only where a line might reach +you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You know very well why, and I did go to see Mr. Grahame."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You went to see Cuthbert Grahame? When?" She mentioned the +date. "Girl, you're dreaming. It was the day after that he +died."</p> + +<p class="normal">"The day after that he died? I knew he was dead. I heard of it +long afterwards by a side wind; but I have never heard any +particulars. You none of you told me anything."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How were we to, when you'd hidden yourself from us in this +great city?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of what did he die?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you ask what was on the certificate I can tell you; but if +you want to know how death came to him you must inquire of his +wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">"His wife?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"When he died he was a married man, according to the law of +Scotland."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Dr. Twelves, are you jesting?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm not. On the day he died he made a will leaving her all that +he had in the world--and she had it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who was she?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Beyond saying that she was no better than she ought to be, I +can tell you nothing."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Was she some one from the neighbourhood?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"She was not; she was from England. She dropped from the clouds. +I should say--if I may be allowed to do so in this company--on +her road to hell. What passed between you and Cuthbert Grahame +when you saw him on that day before he died?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I didn't see him. Nannie wouldn't let me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nannie wouldn't let you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"She would not. She said that Mr. Grahame had forbidden her to +admit me into the house."</p> + +<p class="normal">"She's never spoken a word to me about it. What's been the +matter with the woman? But there's something ails your story. +That day, and for many days afterwards, she was lying in bed +with a broken leg. Was it from her bedroom that she shouted out +to you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"From her bedroom?--nothing of the kind. She told me through the +front door that Mr. Grahame had forbidden her to let me in. When +I said that I would come in, and began to break the window to +show that I was in earnest, she went to the window above, and +poured two buckets of boiling water over me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Margaret Wallace! it's dreaming you must have been."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was a curious kind of dream. The water scalded my neck, and +left a scar which was visible for weeks--wasn't it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She turned to Mr. Talfourd, as if for corroboration.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was. When I saw it I was disposed to go straight off to +Scotland, and give the old harridan a taste of my quality."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's as queer a story as any I've heard. Seeing that Nannie was +as if she had been glued to her bed, how could she walk about +the house as you say, and pour buckets of boiling water on to +you through a window?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I only know that she did."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Did you see her?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She considered a moment.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, I didn't. She took care not to show herself."</p> + +<p class="normal">"She took care not to show herself?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"She hadn't the courage to let me see her face, but she let me +hear her voice, and plenty of it. It was not necessary for me to +see her when I heard her. I've been acquainted with Nannie +Foreshaw's voice for too many years to be likely to mistake it +for any one else's."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're sure? I doubt----" The doctor seemed to be considering +in his turn. "I can't put the pieces of the puzzle together so +that they just fit, but I've a notion that I'm on the way. +Margaret Wallace, I've a suspicion that I've been a greater fool +even than I thought. After the chances I've had to get wisdom, +to get understanding, that's not a nice feeling to have. Between +us--you've had a hand!--we've muddled things to a marvel. I'll +communicate with Nannie with reference to that little +conversation you say you had with her; when I've heard from her +I'll talk to you again." He turned to Mr. Talfourd.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And you, sir, do you make drawings?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No; I write stories."</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor looked him up and down as if he were a specimen of a +species which was new to him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Stories? Oh! and is that a man's work? I come of a good old +Scottish stock. My forebears have always held that a man should +do a man's work. Is writing stories that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It isn't easy, if that's what you mean."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not easy? I should have thought you would have found it as easy +as lying. I've written them myself; I didn't find it hard. It's +just a waste of time. However, I'm not judging you. Is that all +you do, write stories?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Just at present I'm doing something else as well. I'm acting as +private secretary to a lady."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Private secretary to a lady? You've your own notions of what's +a man's work, Mr. Talfourd."</p> + +<p class="normal">Harry flushed; Margaret laughed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And you country Scotchmen have your own ideas of what you're +entitled to say."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're Scotch yourself, my lassie, on the best side of you; +don't gird at your own birth. I ask your pardon, Mr. Talfourd, +if I've said anything I ought not to say; but I've known this +lassie all her days. She's been to me as the apple of my eye, +and--she tells me that you're to be her husband. Would it be +going too far, Mr. Talfourd, if I were to ask you what's the +name of the lady to whom you're acting as private secretary?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Lamb--Mrs. Gregory Lamb."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Gregory Lamb? That's odd."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How is it odd? I hope there's nothing improper about the name."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's not that it's improper; it's that I once met a Gregory +Lamb. What sort's your Gregory Lamb?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He's about my own age, perhaps a little older; not ill-looking; +not, I should imagine, a bad fellow in his way."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is he a poor man?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I believe his wife is very rich."</p> + +<p class="normal">"His wife? Of course, there's the wife--and she's very rich. The +rich woman who married the Gregory Lamb I know would be a very +foolish female."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Lamb is certainly not that."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then her Gregory's not mine, though it's an unusual conjunction +of names. I'm thinking that none but a fool of a woman would +ever have married him."</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_18" href="#div1Ref_18">CHAPTER XVIII</a></h2> + +<h3>CRONIES</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">That evening Dr. Twelves dined with a fellow Scot, J. Andrew +McTavish, of McTavish & Brown. Mr. McTavish lived in Mecklenberg +Square. Although a bachelor he liked plenty of house room, and +in Mecklenberg Square he had it. His house was perhaps the +largest in the Square, and certainly not the least comfortable. +Comfort was to Mr. McTavish a sort of fetish: excepting money he +set it above everything. He looked as if he did. Of medium +height, he was of more than average size, his waist measurement +was approaching a significant figure; his neck loved a generous +collar, his chin overlapped; he had slight side whiskers, dark +gray in hue, and the top of his head was so completely bald that +one wondered if it could ever have been anything else. He and +his guest presented an amazing contrast: three or four replicas +of Dr. Twelves could have been contained in Mr. McTavish.</p> + +<p class="normal">They dined <i>tęte-ŕ-tęte</i> at a small round table which stood in +the centre of a big room. Mr. McTavish liked big rooms; he was +never comfortable in a small one. During the meal the +conversation was of a desultory character, principally hovering +around Pitmuir, where Mr. McTavish had lived till he came to +London. Questions were asked and answered touching every soul in +the parish Mr. McTavish could think of, and his memory was +extensive. There was hardly a man, woman or child about Pitmuir +whose name had not been mentioned before dinner was finished. If +the inquiries were slightly acid, so were the replies. It seemed +as if these two gentlemen had made it a point of honour to say +nothing nice of any one. According to them the folk about +Pitmuir were a very human lot--at least they had most of +humanity's failings.</p> + +<p class="normal">After dinner they retired to the study, another fine apartment. +There they had a cup of coffee, a liqueur, and a cigar apiece. +The doctor seemed lost in the huge chair which he had been +invited to fill. His host regarded him with twinkling eyes.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Have you had a good dinner, David?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You feed yourself too well; you're a hundred years behind the +age."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How do you show it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Our great-grandfathers pampered their bellies. We know better; +we have learnt that it is the part of wisdom to starve them. +You're still where our grandsires were."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And where are you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm on the high road to as fine an attack of indigestion as a +man need have, and live."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I can give you the name of one of the greatest authorities on +indigestion."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I dare swear you can give me the names of one or two. I +shouldn't be surprised if that sucking-pig proves to be the +death of me, beyond the skill of all your authorities."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was cooked to a turn."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I ought to know how it was cooked, considering the way that I +behaved to it. It's wicked to set such meat before a man. And +now, I've something which I wish to say to you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You've said one or two things already--what's the other?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor, taking the cigar out of his mouth, regarded the ash +on the tip.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You remember Wallace's daughter?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Cuthbert Grahame's girl?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor nodded.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I've seen her this afternoon."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No? I wondered what had become of her, more than once. I've +seen and heard nothing of her since he turned her out."</p> + +<p class="normal">"He didn't turn her out, she turned herself out. I had the story +from his own lips."</p> + +<p class="normal">"So had I. To all intents and purposes he turned her out, +however he may have put it to himself or to you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"He asked her to marry him, and she wouldn't."</p> + +<p class="normal">"He asked her not once or twice, but again and again, until he +made it plain that his house was no place for her unless she +meant to be his wife. So, as she didn't, there was nothing for +her but to go."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was a fool business."</p> + +<p class="normal">"On both sides. Why he wanted to marry her I don't know. I never +do know why a man wants to marry. I'd sooner have a buzz saw in +every room in the house than a wife in one. Why she wouldn't +marry him, I know still less."</p> + +<p class="normal">"There was the difference in their years. Then he was already +threatening to be what he afterwards became--physically, I +mean."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, what of it? If a girl in her position has to marry, I +should say that there are two things which she ought to look for +first of all--money, and a sick husband; if possible, one who is +already sick unto death. In Grahame she'd have had both."</p> + +<p class="normal">There was silence, as if both parties were giving to Mr. +McTavish's words the consideration due to a profound aphorism. +It was the doctor who spoke next.</p> + +<p class="normal">"He always believed that she would come back again, saying yes."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'd no patience with the man, he was all kinds of a fool. If he +wanted her to be his wife, he didn't go the right way to get +her. When she said no, instead of thanking God for his +undeserved escape, he stormed and raved, fretted and fumed, +until he became only fit to be exhibited in a booth at a fair."</p> + +<p class="normal">"When he heard that she was in love with some one else, it was +that that was the death of him."</p> + +<p class="normal">"A good thing too. It'd have been a good thing if it had been +the death of both of them. I've no bowels for such tomfoolery. +Where is she? What's she doing? Is she married to the other +fool? If she is, don't they both wish that they were dead?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You've a sharp tongue, Andrew--if your wits were like it! Not +all married folks wish that they were dead; there's just as much +desire to live among the married as among the single--maybe +more. To hear you talk one would suppose that one had only to +remain single to be happy. You and I know better than that."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Speak for yourself, David, speak for yourself--I'm happy +enough."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then your looks belie you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's the matter with my looks, you old croaker?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm a doctor of medicine, Andrew McTavish; I've learned to turn +the smoothest side to a patient; so you must excuse me if to +your inquiry I return no answer."</p> + +<p class="normal">"After the dinner I've given him!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's the ill-assorted food you have caused me to cram down my +throat that I'm beginning to fancy has given me a touch of the +spleen."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Something has. The next time you dine in this house it will be +off porridge."</p> + +<p class="normal">"We'll leave the next time till it comes. To return to Margaret +Wallace. She's not married yet, and, so far as I can judge, +she's not likely to be. It's want of pence, both with him and +with her. If she had some of Cuthbert Grahame's money, as she +ought to have, it'd make all the difference."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's in part your fault that she hasn't."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm not denying it, and I'm not forgetting it. If I've been +guilty of the unforgivable sin, it was when I brought that woman +to Cuthbert Grahame's bedside. I sometimes think that I'll see +it chalked up against me in letters of fire when I'm brought up +before the throne."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Stuff!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Maybe--to you. You're devoid of decent feeling, Andrew +McTavish; to you all's stuff. What's become of the woman?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What woman?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"She who calls herself Mrs. Grahame?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"She calls herself Mrs. Grahame no longer."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How's that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"She's married again."</p> + +<p class="normal">"The creature! The poor fool she's married! What is his name?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Gregory Lamb."</p> + +<p class="normal">Dr. Twelves rose from his chair as if impelled by a spring. +Opening his mouth in apparent forgetfulness of what was between +his lips, his cigar fell to the floor, where it remained +apparently unnoticed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's what?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What name was that you said?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why, man, what's the matter now? I'm wondering whether the +sucking-pig's mounted to your head instead of descending to your +stomach. David, you're easily upset these days. Pick up your +cigar, it's burning a hole in my floor covering."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Damn the cigar!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"And welcome! It's not that I mind. What I object to is your +cigar damning my carpet. Pick it up at once, sir."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're fussy about your old carpet."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Old carpet! it cost me a guinea a yard not twelve months +since."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're wasteful with your money."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am, when I spend it entertaining such as you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's the name of the man you say that woman married?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Gregory Lamb."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's past believing!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is it? I haven't found it so."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's because you're walking in darkness. Do you know that the +youngster Margaret's plighted to is private secretary to Mrs. +Gregory Lamb?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is he? Then I should say that that's presumptive evidence that +he's not bad looking. She has an eye for a good-looking man."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Gregory Lamb was staying at Pitmuir when she was at +Cuthbert Grahame's, calling herself his wife. A half-bred, +ill-conditioned young scamp he was."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should imagine that Mr. Lamb was not born in the caste of +Vere de Vere."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Were they acquainted then? What was there between them? How +come they to be married now?--he without a penny, to my +knowledge, she with all that money. She'd not marry such a +creature as he was--for love, that I'll swear. They were birds +of a feather, only he was more fool than knave, and she more +knave than fool."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That about describes them now--if a lawyer may say as +much--under privilege."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Andrew, can you keep a still tongue?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"If I couldn't I shouldn't be sitting here."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I've always had a suspicion that there was something wrong +about that will."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you mean the one under which she inherits? You needn't +confine yourself to suspicion upon that point--it's about as +wrong as it could be. If there had been substantial opposition +she'd have found it hard to bring it in."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm not meaning it in your sense. I know that Grahame signed it +in the presence of those two daft lassies; but I don't believe +that he knew what he was signing, although the evidence is all +the other way. I've kept my doubts to myself until this moment, +and even now I can't tell you just why I don't believe it--but I +don't."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Quite possibly you're right, but you can't prove it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I know I can't, and there's something else that I can't prove."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I believe she murdered him."</p> + +<p class="normal">"David!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"She was equal to it; and I'm beginning to see more clearly how +she brought herself to the sticking point. The day before his +death Margaret Wallace called----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Margaret Wallace? you don't say!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"She told me so herself this afternoon. She was refused +admission as she supposed by Nannie Foreshaw. I happen to know +that Nannie couldn't have got out of bed and gone downstairs to +save her life--that woman had taken care of that. Before I came +to you I wrote to Nannie asking if she did, to make sure. I +believe that woman played at being Nannie, imitating her voice. +She may have known Margaret's story, probably Grahame had told +her, and was aware that if she returned and saw him her reign +was at an end. So she precipitated matters. She juggled that +will into existence, and, directly she had done so, killed him."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's a weighty charge you're making, David; be careful how you +make it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you think I don't know that it's a weighty charge? I'm not +making it. I'm only telling you what's in my mind, as between +friends. I'll not breathe a word of the matter to any one but +you till I can bring it into court, and prove it. At present, in +your lawyer's sense, I've not proof enough to cover a pin's +point. But, Andrew, though the mills of God grind slowly, they +grind surely, and exceeding fine. Maybe one day God's finger +will press her in between the stones, then you'll know that the +conviction which is implanted in my breast is of the nature of +the prophetic vision. God has shown me, though I cannot tell you +how."</p> + +<p class="normal">There was silence. The doctor, still standing, bent over the +table on which stood the coffee and liqueurs, pointing with one +skinny finger upwards. He continued in that attitude for a +perceptible period after he had ceased to speak. Then Mr. +McTavish's voice broke the spell which he seemed to have cast +upon the air.</p> + +<p class="normal">"David, you use big words. I don't--it's not my way. But +confidence begets confidence. I'll tell you something in +return--and that without insulting you by asking if you can keep +a still tongue--because I know you can."</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor returned to a more normal attitude, seeming to do so +with an effort, as if he were shaking something from him. He +spoke in his ordinary tones.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Let me light another cigar before you begin. This sort of +talk's disquieting, especially after such a dinner as I've had. +I think a tonic might not be amiss." He sipped his liqueur. +"Andrew, this is not bad brandy."</p> + +<p class="normal">"A hogshead wouldn't hurt you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Wouldn't it? Is it your custom to drink brandy by the hogshead? +I thought you didn't use big words."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's a figure of speech, David--a figure of speech. If you have +that cigar properly lighted, and will sit down like a decent +creature, I'll have my say--that is, if you have not had enough +of the matter under discussion."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're not more ready to talk than I am to listen. Now, Andrew, +I'm at your service."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, you suspect this lady of something more than +misdemeanour. I may tell you that I doubt if she would have done +what she did do--if she did it!--if she had known what she knows +now."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You speak in parables."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll be plain enough. Did you know anything about Cuthbert +Grahame's affairs?--his financial affairs, I mean."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Something."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Had you any idea how much he was worth?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He told me himself, not once but frequently, that he was worth +nearer three hundred thousand pounds than two hundred thousand. +He said, moreover, that his investments brought him in an +average interest of over ten per cent. He had made several lucky +hits."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's what he told us; it seems that that's what he told her. +Did you see on what amount probate duty was paid?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not I; I took no interest in the matter then. I was too +disgusted with myself and everything. My one desire was to get +the whole business out of my head; the trouble is that I haven't +been able to do it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Under forty thousand pounds; and I may tell you that it was +well under forty thousand pounds."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's become of the rest?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's the mystery which we should like to solve--which she +especially would like to solve; and what she's subjected us to +in her efforts to arrive at a solution no language at my command +is adequate to describe. She's a remarkable woman--a very +remarkable woman. Because she has long since passed the limits +of our endurance is one reason why I am rounding on her to you. +It is not often that I am conscious of such a yearning, but we +have arrived at a position in which I should actually like to +have your advice. That's why I asked you here tonight."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then it wasn't just for old friendship's sake."</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor glowered from the recesses of the huge chair, +expelling the smoke of his cigar from his lips and nostrils. Mr. +McTavish laughed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well--in a measure. Did you ever think he was romancing when he +talked about his moneys?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I did not--and I don't. He was in earnest. I never knew him +tell a lie when he was in earnest. I'd match his veracity +against my own."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then it's queer--it's queer. At the time of his death we held +securities for him representing some ten thousand pounds lent on +mortgage; the bankers held about as much more. His widow turned +into cash everything that there was to turn, with the exception +of the house, which she will neither sell nor let."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I know. It's going to rack and ruin; they say no one's set foot +in it since the day he was buried."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I daresay--it's one of her notions--she'll let no one even talk +of it; it's her bogey. Altogether she's had scarcely thirty +thousand pounds."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's in the house."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not it. It's been thoroughly searched by competent hands; she +herself has overhauled it more than once."</p> + +<p class="normal">"The money must be somewhere; I'm convinced he had it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Have you any notion where it is? Can you give me any sort of +clue as to its possible whereabouts?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not I. I know no more about it than--this cigar. Is it likely? +I wasn't his man of business--you were."</p> + +<p class="normal">"She says we have it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes. She says we have it, or that we know where it is, and are +joined in a conspiracy to keep it out of her possession. The way +she's talked--and treated us! David, she's a remarkable woman."</p> + +<p class="normal">"She is that. Don't I know it?--to my cost!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"We've had to change the lock on our office door. She let +herself into it with a pass-key--my own, I fear, for I lost it, +though I don't know how; I've never seen it since. She ransacked +everything the place contained. Got into the safe. By some +extraordinary mischance, in which it is quite possible she had a +hand, that night it wasn't locked. She went right through it. +She saw a good deal we had rather she hadn't seen, but she saw +nothing of Grahame's money."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Did you catch her in the act?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Catch her! We've never been able to prove it against her yet, +but the presumption's as strong as Hercules. She went to +Brown's, and made him swear by all his gods that he knew nothing +about it; then she made him open his safe, and went through all +his private papers."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Brown must be a fine sort of a man."</p> + +<p class="normal">"She's a fine sort of a woman. She drugged me in my own house."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I say yes! She came here one night. I offered her a little +something to drink--I was having something to drink, and I +couldn't see her sitting dry. I've no doubt that when my back +was turned she put something into my glass which took away my +senses in a flash. When I came to it was early morning; the +daylight was streaming through the blinds; she was gone; the +whole place was upside down."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're a lawyer: didn't you give her a taste of the law?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What was the use? She'd pose as an injured woman--her grievance +is real enough. We'd get no good; it might do us harm. The +mischief is that she's got what she chooses to regard as some +sort of groundwork for her suspicions. It's this way. She met +the secretary of the Hardwood Company. The Hardwood Company's +paid dividends averaging thirty per cent, ever since it started. +The fellow got friendly with her--as plenty of men do get within +five minutes of their meeting her. He told her that only one +original shareholder remained on their lists, and, since the +shares rushed to a premium directly the issue was made, that +therefore he was the only person who received the full benefit +of the thirty per cent. He added that the shareholder's name was +Grahame--Cuthbert Grahame (you may see her pricking her ears at +that!)--and (she always leading him by the nose!) that the +dividends had not been paid to him direct, but to his +solicitors, Messrs. McTavish & Brown, of Southampton Row. He was +a talkable body, that secretary man--men are apt to be talkative +when she gets them alone with her in a corner. He told her +something else: that the queerest part of the business was that +while the shares still stood in Grahame's name, the dividends +had remained unclaimed for quite a while, so that a considerable +sum was waiting for some one to take it. The next morning she +came to us running over with the story. Now I remembered those +shares--an investment which returns thirty per cent, these hard +times one has to remember. He had ten thousand of them; they +were in our charge; we did collect the dividends. But one day he +wrote asking us to send them to him, which we did do. My lady of +course wanted proof. Do you know we couldn't give it her."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't see why."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Under ordinary circumstances nothing could have been simpler. +Such a thing has never before happened in the whole course of my +experience, but by some infernal accident we couldn't lay our +hands on either his letter of instructions, or his +acknowledgment of receipt."</p> + +<p class="normal">"There was still the letter advising their despatch."</p> + +<p class="normal">"David, ever since that woman appeared on the scene we have been +persecuted by a malignant fate."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Big words, Andrew, big words."</p> + +<p class="normal">"She moves me to them. On the day Grahame's letter came I +happened to be going abroad. Brown sent a clerk here with his +letter and the shares, so that I might check them and see that +they were right. I packed the clerk back, and sent the shares +myself; but in my haste--I was running the boat train pretty +close!--I was idiot enough not to take a copy of my own letter, +and what I did with Grahame's I have not the dimmest +recollection."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Very unbusiness-like."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't I know it, man! Of course she declined to credit a word +of the story; said that she believed it was a fabrication from +beginning to end; and that she was more than ever convinced that +she was dealing with a set of rogues. The climax is to come! The +day after she had drugged me she came to my office, and produced +a Hardwood Company's share, which she had the assurance to +assert that she had taken out of my own safe when I was in a +state of unconsciousness!--think of it! She had taken it round +to the Company's offices, and it had there been identified as +one of the shares which were standing in Cuthbert Grahame's +name."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Was it one of his shares?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was, beyond a doubt."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And had she taken it out of your safe?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"David, I can only tell you that she swore she had; and I'm +bound to admit that if she hadn't, I don't know where she got it +from. On the other hand, if she did I have not the vaguest +notion how it got there. Plague take the thing!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. McTavish, emptying his liqueur glass, immediately refilled +it.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't you know what's in your own safe?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you take me for a feather-brain? I knew every trifle it +contained, or thought I did. She says that she took up a bundle +of papers, and that the share dropped out of one of them. If it +did, no one knows less than I do who put it there. The only +conclusion at which I can arrive is that, in returning the +shares to Grahame, I overlooked one of them, and that, in my +hurry, it got mixed up with some of the papers which I keep in +my safe, and which were lying on my table at the time. Of all +the evil chances that ever befel a man!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"And what was the inference she drew?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"The inference she drew! What do you suppose? Why, of course, +that the other nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine shares +were hidden somewhere in my house, exactly as that one had been. +She had brought a solicitor with her to the office--think of it, +David!--a pettifogging rascal of the name of Luker, who'd do +anything for six-and-eightpence; and in his presence--picture +it, David!--she told me that if I didn't permit her to subject +my private premises to a thorough examination she should +immediately commence proceedings for the recovery of the missing +shares. And the creature Luker had the audacity to advise me to +accede to her reasonable request--he called it her reasonable +request! And I complied!--I complied! She, the wretched Luker, +Brown, and myself, we went through every nook and cranny in the +house, all of us together. The humiliation of it!--the maddening +humiliation!"</p> + +<p class="normal">With his handkerchief Mr. McTavish wiped his capacious brow, +which was moist with indignant sweat.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And did they find the missing shares?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"David! Do you want me to make an end of you? The reptile Luker +wrote that if restitution of the shares was not made at once he +was instructed to immediately commence proceedings for their +recovery. And that's only the beginning! If something isn't done +to stop her it's very possible that she'll try to jockey us, by +legal process, out of all the money that she supposes Cuthbert +Grahame to have had. The law on such matters is in such a +state--when twisted by such as Luker!--that there's no knowing +what may be the issue; the one thing certain being that she may +be the occasion to us of the gravest injury." The doctor emitted +a sound which forced a startled inquiry from the other. "What's +the matter with you, man?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I was laughing, to think that a couple of lawyers should be so +mishandled by one of the laity! It's the funniest thing that +ever I heard."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's no laughing matter, David, I can tell you that. Think of +the scandal--that at the age to which I'm come I should be used +as if I were a misbegotten rogue! She's a devil of a woman! And +what's driving her is that she's come to the end of her tether."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you mean that she's spent all her cash?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I've reason to know she has, or nearly all. She lives in a +great house, has an expensive establishment, spends money like a +queen. She took it for granted that long before this the bulk of +Grahame's money would turn up. Now that it hasn't she's +desperate. She means to get it out of somebody, somehow--or as +much of it as she can--if it's only out of such poor creatures +as McTavish and Brown."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're a pair of weans, you and Brown."</p> + +<p class="normal">"So you see, David, how it is I have come to you for help--to +you, my oldest friend. Why it is that I ask you to search your +brain and see if you can give us no clue as to what Cuthbert +Grahame did with his money. No one was more intimate with him +than you, and on such a point there is no one who is more likely +to be able to give us help."</p> + +<p class="normal">"If that's so then you'll get help from no one, for it's certain +you'll get none from me. I tell you I know nothing of the +matter."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you think Miss Wallace could help us? She had an intimate +knowledge of Grahame and of his peculiarities. She might be able +to tell us something which would prove to be of assistance."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll ask her, if you wish it. But I doubt if you'll gain."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do, David, do. And"--Mr. McTavish tapped his forefinger on the +arm of his chair--"the sooner the better. As to advice, David, +you know this woman; you've had dealings with her before; in a +sense, so far as we're concerned, you're responsible for her +existence. You see the dilemma we are in. What advice have you +to offer?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"None--not a ha'porth. I'm not advising."</p> + +<p class="normal">"David!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I tell you I'm not, and it's just because I've had dealings +with the woman already. I've tried one fall with her, and I'm +suffering from it still."</p> + +<p class="normal">"She's an awful creature!--awful!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's only one thing I can say to you, Andrew, and that I've +said already, and then you sort of sniggered. But to my mind +it's a comfortable thought when we come to deal with persons +like Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame, or Mrs. Gregory Lamb, or whatever +she calls herself, and it's this, that if the mills of God do +grind slowly, they also do grind surely, and they grind +exceeding small."</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_19" href="#div1Ref_19">CHAPTER XIX</a></h2> + +<h3>IN COUNCIL</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">There were five of them assembled in Margaret Wallace's +sitting-room. Margaret herself, in a linen gown of +cornflower-blue, the product of her own deft fingers, which +became her hugely. Miss Dorothy Johnson, from the rooms below, +who indulged her fondness for unconventional attitudes by +perching herself on the back of one chair and her feet on the +seat of another. Bertram Winton, one of the handsomest of our +actors, tall and dark, with big eyes and curly hair, whose +clothes fitted him with a creaseless perfection which won the +admiration of that considerable feminine public which bought his +photographs and wrote for his autograph. Frank Staines, who was +something of a mystery. He wrote a little, and painted a little, +and drew a little, and sang a little, and played a little, and +talked so much that there were people who said that he could do +that better than he could do anything else. He had money. The +exact quantity was not generally known, but there appeared to be +enough of it to enable him to live in very considerable comfort, +without rendering it necessary for him, to adopt his own +phraseology, to descend into the market-place and "huckster" his +brain. Between Miss Johnson and him there was a state of +continual war, tempered by peaceful intervals of the briefest +duration. It was commonly understood that he was very much in +love with her, had frequently proposed to her and had been +accepted several times, but that on each occasion a rupture had +followed before they were able to make an interesting +announcement to their friends and acquaintances.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miss Johnson made a remark to Harry Talfourd, who stood leaning +against the window with an air of almost sombre gloom, which +caused hostilities to break out upon the spot.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Let's get to the bed-rock of common-sense. It always seems to +me that in matters of this sort commonsense is the one thing +needed. Harry, what is it you want? You want your play to be +successful--that is, you want it to bring you cash and kudos; +and that is all you want. The question, therefore, which you +have to ask yourself is, if Mrs. Lamb produces 'The Gordian +Knot' will it bring me those two things? To that question you +have only to supply a simple yes or no, and the problem's +solved."</p> + +<p class="normal">To which Mr. Staines replied--</p> + +<p class="normal">"That is exactly the sort of remark one expects you to +make--utilitarian, material, sordid. I opine that the one thing +Harry requires you have not mentioned--that is, satisfaction for +his artistic soul."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Artistic tommy-rot."</p> + +<p class="normal">"My dear Dollie, it is not necessary for you to be vulgar in +order to inform us that you know nothing about the soul--we are +aware of it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"My dear Frankie, don't be under the delusion that you need open +your mouth to let the world know that you drivel--it is written +on your countenance."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Thank you, Miss Johnson."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't mention it, Mr. Staines."</p> + +<p class="normal">Margaret interposed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"While those two are thinking of some more nice things to say to +each other, I should like to know, Mr. Winton, what you really +think."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am afraid, Miss Wallace, that my point of view would be +described by Staines as utilitarian. I propose to conduct my +theatre--when I get it--on a commercial basis."</p> + +<p class="normal">"One takes it for granted that an actor-manager is commercial or +nothing."</p> + +<p class="normal">"If he isn't commercial, my dear Staines, he's less than +nothing--he's a bankrupt. No one loves a bankrupt, not even your +artistic soul. My intention is to get a theatre; to have it +properly equipped; to give the public as good plays as I can +get; to have them as well acted as circumstances permit. If Mrs. +Lamb is willing to place me in a position to carry out my +intention--on my own terms--I don't know that I have any serious +objection to her playing a part in my initial venture, +particularly as that happens to be a part which, as Talfourd is +aware, I have not hitherto been able to fit with a quite +adequate representative. I realise that the position is not so +simple as it appears, and am conscious that I run the risk of +being overshadowed by the lady's personality. But that is +certainly my risk rather than Talfourd's, and I am willing to +run it in order to gain the end I have in view."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then you say, let Mrs. Lamb play Lady Glover?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I do, since I incline to the opinion that she would not play it +in a fashion which would militate against the success of the +piece."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You hear, Harry?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I do; I have heard Winton on the point before."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then why don't you leave matters entirely in his hands, and let +him arrange everything?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Harry exchanged glances with the actor. He said, dryly--</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am willing. If I am allowed to--say, run abroad, or remove +myself into the country well out of reach, until, at any rate, +the play's produced, I am content to let Winton do just as he +pleases."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I doubt if that would meet Mrs. Lamb's views. I imagine that +she might regard your withdrawal as a personal affront. +Talfourd, will you allow me to explain to Miss Wallace what I +imagine is your exact position in this matter?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Miss Johnson addressed a question to Mr. Staines before Margaret +could reply.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Frank, you can be honest sometimes, and you can be sensible. +Try to be both of them now. What do you think of Mrs. Lamb?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is a delicate subject, on which I should not presume to +offer an opinion."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That means that you don't love her."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have only loved one person in my life, and it certainly was +not her."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miss Johnson looked straight in front of her, as if she desired +to convey the impression that she had no idea that any allusion +was intended. Margaret urged Mr. Winton.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Come, tell me what Harry's position really is, since I am quite +unable to get it out of him."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Shall I, Talfourd?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You may say what you choose, only give me leave to doubt if you +are so well informed as you yourself imagine. I don't understand +myself as well as I should like to."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I fancy I understand pretty well. The truth is, Miss Wallace, +Mrs. Lamb is fonder of Talfourd than he is of her."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am quite aware of that."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't think you altogether appreciate my meaning. If there +were no Mr. Lamb, Mrs. Lamb would not object to being Mrs. +Talfourd--which is why she wants to produce 'The Gordian Knot,' +and why Talfourd doesn't want her to."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you mean that she's in love with him? Harry! is this true? +You told me that she had never said anything to you she ought +not to have done."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nor has she. Winton speaks crudely. I don't know what is his +authority for his statement, he certainly has had none from me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is it simply because--she feels for you like that--that she +wants to produce your play?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Honestly, Meg, I don't know what her reasons are. I wish I +did."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Does she know that you're--engaged?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not that I am aware of. So far as possible I have carefully +avoided speaking to her of myself. Frankly, Meg, it's no use +blinking the fact that as Mrs. Lamb's private secretary there's +nothing for me to do; that she has not the slightest real need +for such a functionary; and that I am very much exercised in my +mind as to the motives which would actuate her in the production +of 'The Gordian Knot'. Although I am quite aware that he meant +well, I should have been obliged to Winton if he hadn't said a +word to her about the thing."</p> + +<p class="normal">"At that time I had no actual knowledge of how the land was +lying."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But you guessed." This was Margaret.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, if you will permit me to be quite plain, Miss Wallace, I +don't know that I regarded it as a drawback even if I did guess. +An actor depends for his existence on personal favour. He has to +please the public in the mass, and, also, as individuals. When a +woman tells me she admires me I expect her to take a stall to +see me act; if she admires me very much, I expect her to take +two or three, or a box. There have been women who have admired +me so much that they have booked seats for an entire season. +Now proceed a step farther. I can conceive of it as possible +that a woman might provide me with the means to take a theatre +because her admiration for me was so great. I shouldn't stop to +ask myself trivial questions as to whether she was married +or single, I should regard the matter as purely one of +business--one proof of my success--and take the good the gods +provided, while, at the same time, my position in the affair +would be entirely a platonic one. I want Talfourd to treat the +matter from my point of view, but it seems he can't."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm sorry."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm not sorry!" The first remark came from Harry, the second +from Margaret. She went on: "Now I begin to understand. Of +course it's quite inconceivable, Harry, how any one could fall +in love with you; but supposing any woman to be so foolish, I +certainly don't want you to trade on her affection. I'm not +saying it with any desire to wound you, Mr. Winton."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't be afraid, I'm not easily wounded."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But, you see, in this case there are other circumstances to be +considered--there's me. I'm a factor in the question. And shall +I tell you to what conclusion I'm drifting?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Let's have it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should like to see Mrs. Lamb. You men know her, but I don't. +She hasn't even come within range of my vision, and though I've +the highest respect for you, as men, when it comes to your +opinion of a woman, I don't think a man's opinion worth +anything."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're quite right--it isn't." This was Miss Johnson.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I used to have a high opinion of you." This was Mr. Staines.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You used to have!--that I should ever have been so belittled!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Miss Johnson turned disdainfully from Mr. Staines to Margaret.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What you say is perfectly correct, my dear, only a woman's +opinion of a woman is of the slightest value."</p> + +<p class="normal">"The other day I heard a woman express her opinion of you in +terms which, if I repeated them to you, might cause you to +change your views."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Some women!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't know that I go quite so far as Dollie, and there is +something in what Mr. Staines hints, for, of course, there are +women whose opinions of each other are merely so many libels."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hear! hear!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do be still! Will somebody sit on Mr. Staines?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"But this appears to be a case in which a woman's opinion should +be the only thing which ought to count--especially if I'm +the woman; and, lest you accuse me of overweening conceit, +let me hasten to explain. Mrs. Lamb is, I presume, a lady of +beauty----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"She's not bad-looking." This was Mr. Staines to, of course, +Dolly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Much you know about a woman's looks!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I used to admire yours."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Pooh!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Apparently of fortune, conceivably of taste. She is supposed to +entertain certain sentiments towards a certain gentleman which +she ought not to entertain. Actuated by those sentiments she +proposes to play the part of a feminine Mćcenas and pose as a +patron of the drama. These are the allegations which are made +against her. Introduce me to her; let me talk to her for half an +hour, and I will engage to settle there and then--and +finally!--the question as to whether she is a fit and proper +person to produce 'The Gordian Knot' and play Lady Glover."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm content!" cried Harry.</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Winton was more deliberate.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, under ordinary circumstances, I should be inclined to do +more than hesitate before accepting a lady as arbitrator in such +a matter, but I have such a high opinion of Miss Wallace, though +she herself appraises a masculine estimate of such a subject at +less than nothing----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I make an exception in your case, Mr. Winton--thank you very +much."</p> + +<p class="normal">"If she will allow me to say so, I esteem her wide-minded +liberality so greatly, and set such value on her keen-sighted +appreciation of character----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Dear! dear! Margaret, bow!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Dollie! don't interrupt!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That I am quite willing to go so far as this: If, after talking +the matter over with Mrs. Lamb, fully and frankly, and weighing +all the pros and cons, you tell me that you think it would be +better, for all parties interested, that she should have nothing +to do with the play, then, so far as I am concerned, the +question will be settled--she shan't."</p> + +<p class="normal">"The point is," struck in Dollie, "how is the poor dear child to +become acquainted with this wonderful woman, who ought to be +immensely flattered if she knows how much you have her in your +thoughts?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"There will be no difficulty about that. The lady has an 'At +Home' to-morrow evening, to which, practically, all the world is +welcome. I'll tell her, Meg, that you'd like to make her +acquaintance, and ask her permission to bring you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You'll ask her?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Staines looked at Mr. Talfourd with, in his glance, a +satirical intention which the other ignored.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why not? Nothing could be simpler."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No--nothing could be simpler--only I thought you said she +didn't know you were engaged. Do you propose to tell her in what +relation Miss Wallace stands to you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Certainly! Why do you look at me like that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should like to see her face when she receives the +communication, and, again, when she meets Miss Wallace. I know +something of Mrs. Gregory Lamb. I fancy they may both of them be +rather dramatic moments."</p> + +<p class="normal">Margaret told him, laughing--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Dear Mr. Staines, you may study the expression of her +countenance when she meets me to your heart's content, if you +choose. Suppose we all of us go together?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Winton rose from his chair.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Thank you; that is a proposal which I am afraid I must decline. +Mrs. Lamb might suspect us of conspiracy if we bore down on her +in force. I will be in Connaught Square to-morrow evening, but +perhaps a little late, when I think it possible, Miss Wallace, +that one glance at your countenance will be sufficient to tell +me exactly how the matter stands. Remember the arbitrament of my +fate--as a manager, an issue of no slight consequence--is in +your hands."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Poor, innocent, ignorant Mrs. Lamb!" exclaimed Miss Johnson. +"Meg, if she only knew what issues of life and death you are +bringing with you, I don't believe she'd let you into her +house--however nicely Harry might ask her permission to bring +you."</p> + +<p class="normal">The young lady spoke much truer than she knew.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_20" href="#div1Ref_20">CHAPTER XX</a></h2> + +<h3>THE IMPENDING SWORD</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">"I must have ten thousand pounds, and"--Mrs. J. Lamb +paused--"within a week."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Must!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Isaac Luker folded his hands together with a gesture which +suggested the act of prayer. He seemed singularly out of place +in his environment. They were in the apartment which Mrs. Lamb +called her boudoir, a word which has a different meaning in the +mouths of different women. In this case it stood for a room +which represented what was possibly the last word in gorgeous +decoration. Everything was of the costliest. If the result was a +trifle vivid, it was not altogether unpleasing. It was a room in +which one could be very much at one's ease--in certain moods--if +one were of a certain constitution. There was something in its +atmosphere which made a not ineffective appeal to the senses, +not so much to the sense of beauty or of intellect, as to that +of physical well-being. In some subtle way the owner's strong +personality impregnated the whole place. On crossing the +threshold a person of delicate perception might have become +immediately conscious of something which could scarcely have +been called healthy.</p> + +<p class="normal">But the prevailing note was gorgeousness, and anything less +gorgeous than Mr. Isaac Luker one could hardly conceive. Mrs. +Lamb's costume harmonised with the apartment, it was so +evidently the product of one of those artists in dress to whom +expense is no object. And it became her very well. In it she +looked not only a handsome woman, but almost a real great lady. +Mr. Luker's apparel, on the other hand, was not only unbecoming +and ill-fitting, but it was apparently in the last stage of +decay. None of the garments seemed to have been made for him, +and they were all of them odd ones. He was tall and thin. He +wore an old pair of black-and-white checked trousers, which were +too short in the leg and too big everywhere else; an old black +frock-coat, which he kept closely buttoned, and which must +certainly have been intended for some one who was both +shorter and broader. His long thin neck was surrounded by a +suspicious-looking collar, which was certainly not made of +linen, and he wore by way of a necktie something which might +have once done duty as a band on a bowler hat. One understood, +after a very cursory inspection, why a gentleman who had such a +keen regard for appearances as Mr. Andrew McTavish should object +to being brought into involuntary, and unsatisfactory, +professional contact with Mr. Isaac Luker.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yet those who knew had reason to believe that Mr. Luker did a +considerable business of a kind--though it was emphatically of a +kind. He had one or two peculiarities. He was an habitual gin +drinker, and though he could seldom be said to be positively +drunk, he could just as rarely be called entirely sober. To all +intents and purposes he lived on gin. He had it for breakfast, +lunch, dinner, and for afternoon tea and supper, and he did not +seem to find it a very nourishing food. Then, perhaps partially +owing to the monotonous regularity of his diet, he seemed to be +incapable of saying what he meant, while his yeas and his nays +were as worthless as his oaths. For a solicitor to be a +notorious liar and drunkard one would suppose would be a serious +handicap in his profession. Oddly enough, with Mr. Luker it was, +if anything, the other way. The sort of clients he courted +wanted just the sort of man he was. He, speaking generally, +never did any clean business; he was only at home when dealing +with what was unclean; and as there is more of that kind of +commerce about than might be imagined--and some of it is +amazingly lucrative--he did tolerably well. Indeed, there were +those who declared that, although he did not look it, he was +uncommonly well-off, it being one of his characteristics that he +was as incapable of spending money as he was of telling the +truth or giving up gin.</p> + +<p class="normal">As he stood there, with his hands folded in front of him in an +attitude of prayer, Mrs. Lamb regarded him with what could +hardly be regarded as glances of admiration. When she addressed +him it was with a frankness which was hardly in keeping with her +<i>rôle</i> of great lady, and which is not usual when one deals with +one's legal adviser.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Listen to me, Luker. I want none of your humbug, and I want +none of your lies. I want ten thousand pounds inside a week--and +you've got to get them. I'll give fifteen thousand for the ten, +so there won't be a bad profit for some one."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How long do you want the money for?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh--three months."</p> + +<p class="normal">"On what security?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What security? On the security of my property."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Your property?" Mr. Luker did not smile--a smile was probably +another thing of which he was incapable--but his wizened +features assumed a curious aspect. "Of what does your property +consist?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"None of your nonsense. To begin with, there are those ten +thousand shares in the Hardwood Company. As you know very well, +they're worth over fifty thousand pounds at the present moment."</p> + +<p class="normal">"They would be if you had them--but you haven't."</p> + +<p class="normal">"McTavish & Brown have got them, and you're going to make them +disgorge."</p> + +<p class="normal">"We've first of all to prove that they've got them."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh no, we haven't; they have to prove that they handed them +over to Cuthbert Grahame, which is a very different thing, as +you know very well."</p> + +<p class="normal">"My dear Isabel, you're a very clever woman; your fault is that, +if anything, you're too clever."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I've heard you called too clever before to-day."</p> + +<p class="normal">"My dear----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't you call me your dear! I won't have it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Very well, although it is possible that few men have a better +right----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Right! Don't you dare to talk to me about right!--you!--don't +you talk to me like that, Mr. Luker! You just simply listen to +me. I want ten thousand pounds before this day week, and you've +got to get it. No one in London knows better than you from whom +and how to get it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Lamb--by the way, how is your worthy husband?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Never mind my worthy husband--you keep to the point."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Even supposing we are able to saddle McTavish & Brown +with the responsibility for the Hardwood shares--which is +problematical--it'll take a good deal more than three months to +do it. It is not to be supposed that they'll accept an adverse +decision without taking the case through every court available. +That may take years. If in the end it is decided that they will +have to pay, it is not by any means certain that they will be +able to. Costs will have swollen the original total enormously; +it all will have to come from them. There is nothing to show +that they are in a position to pay such a huge sum as that will +be."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh yes, there is; they're rolling in money; I've seen enough of +them to know so much."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You think you have. I doubt if that is a matter on which your +judgment can be trusted. If the case ultimately goes against +them, the possibilities--I should say the probabilities--are +that they will declare themselves bankrupt. Then where will you +be? You will have to pay your own costs, and, instead of getting +the amount adjudged, after another interval of dreary waiting, +you may receive, as a final quittance, perhaps sixpence, or a +shilling, in the pound. And in the meantime, you must remember, +you will have to live."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You old croaker!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Let me make a suggestion."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Your suggestions!"</p> + +<p class="normal">She brought her fist down on the back of an armchair with an +emphasis which almost suggested that she would have liked that +chair to have been some portion of his body.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Let me lay the whole case before a friend of mine, and, after +he has given it careful consideration, it is possible that he +may make you a proposition."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What sort of proposition?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That I cannot tell you--the best he can."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You understand that I must have ten thousand pounds within a +week?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I hear you say so. If my friend can see his way no doubt he +will let you have them."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mind he does see his way!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"As to that----"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Gregory Lamb's sudden appearance in the doorway perhaps +allowed to serve as an excuse for his sentence to remain +unfinished.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You here!" exclaimed Mr. Lamb, as if he were not too well +pleased to see him. "I didn't know."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Luker's greeting, although well meant, was a little +peculiar.</p> + +<p class="normal">"My dear Mr. Lamb, how well you are always looking!--and always +so beautifully dressed. What a lovely pin you have in your +pretty necktie! Now I know a friend who would give you----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't want to know what your friend would give me! Confound +it, Luker, I never see you but you tell me what some one you +know would give me for something I have on. You might be a +marine store-dealer."</p> + +<p class="normal">"There are worse trades, Mr. Lamb--there are worse trades. Now +with regard to that exquisite pair of trousers----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Look here, Luker, if you're going to tell me what some one you +know will give me for my trousers, I'll throw something at you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You mustn't do that, Mr. Lamb, it might be something worth +money--everything in the room is so very beautiful. Mrs. Lamb, I +wish you good-morning."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now, no nonsense, Luker. I want that within a week--and you've +got to see I have it--if you don't want trouble!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I understand perfectly, and will bear what you have said well +in mind. You shall hear from me again very shortly."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I will see I do!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have had clients, Mr. Lamb, who would have conveyed that pin +without paying for it--it presents such temptations to an honest +man. I do hope it's properly secured. Good-morning!"</p> + +<p class="normal">When Mr. Luker had retired Mr. Lamb turned to his wife, with +knitted brows.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Isabel, it's beyond my comprehension why you have anything to +do with that animal. He's got scoundrel written large all over +him."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I shouldn't have thought that would have prejudiced him in your +eyes."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I suppose you think that's smart. I know there was a time when +we both of us had to sail pretty close to the wind, but I +thought that time had gone for ever. You've told me so over and +over again. You're a woman of large fortune, of assured +position, a person of importance. I should have thought that +from the point of view of policy alone it would have been worth +your while to have dealings with solicitors of standing only, +and to have nothing to do with such a brute as that. Aren't you +ashamed to have him seen going in and out of the house, or to +have the servants know that he is here?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm not easily ashamed--you ought to know that. Is that all +you've come for?--to tell me what you think about what is no +concern of yours?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's this I hear about your bringing out a play, and acting +in it yourself?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who told you that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Winton--to my amazement!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What did he tell you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Something about your producing a play of +Talfourd's--Talfourd's, of all people in the world! My hat! he +said that you proposed to act one of the principal parts in it +yourself. Isabel, that's going too far; I won't stand it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You won't what?"</p> + +<p class="normal">There was something in the lady's tone and in her attitude +before which he obviously quailed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't think that it's becoming in a woman of your position, +as--as my wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's not my fault that I'm your wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Still the fact remains that you are. By the way, has Talfourd +been saying anything to you about me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What should he say?--except to advise me to sew you in a sack +and drop you into the river."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's just what he'd like--he's that sort of man."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is he? He's what you never were, never will be, never could +be--a gentleman. Why you don't even begin to understand what a +gentleman is."</p> + +<p class="normal">"'Pon my word, I wonder that I let you talk to me like this. I +don't want to quarrel with you--I hate quarrelling!--I really +do. You couldn't treat me worse if I were a shoeblack."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I never met any one yet whose shoes you were worthy to black. +Why, Luker's a man compared to you. He doesn't sponge upon a +woman."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's not fair of you to speak to me like this--it is not! I +know you're not fond of me----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Fond of you!--fond!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The lady flung out her arm, as if the idea of her entertaining +any feeling of that kind for her husband was a grotesque one, +and she laughed. As he continued his tone suggested a snarl.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't know that I'm particularly fond of you. You don't go +out of your way to make yourself agreeable to a fellow. You've +only got to say the word to be rid of me for--well, at any rate, +a good long time."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's the word? L.S.D.?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Lamb coughed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"A fellow can't go away with empty pockets."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I thought so. Out with it! What are you at?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"The truth is, Isabel, I'm not feeling very well."</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you were feeling as I'd like you to feel you'd be feeling +very much worse."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's frank! A nice thing for a wife to say to her husband! I +believe you're capable of anything."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am--I always have been--and I always shall be, you bear that +constantly in mind. Why can't you say what you want? If it is +prussic acid to use upon yourself I'll give you money enough to +buy a barrelful."</p> + +<p class="normal">The expression of Mr. Lamb's countenance was sullen, so also was +the tone of his voice, which perhaps on the whole was not to be +wondered at.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I want to go to the Riviera."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That means Monte Carlo. Well go--at once--and never come back +again."</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you'll give me the coin I'll start in a jiffy."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How much do you want?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I daresay I could manage with a thousand. I've hit upon a +system."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You've hit upon a system!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you'll only keep still for a moment I'll tell you what it +is, and then you'll see for yourself it's an absolute cert. I'll +turn the thou. into fifty in less than no time. I can't help +doing it!--you see!--and then I'll give you half."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You'll give me half! Then am I to understand that you won't go +unless I give you a thousand pounds?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I couldn't do it on less--the system I mean. I've worked out +all the details and I really couldn't. I'll show you if you +like. It's want of capital that wrecks a man in a thing like +this. If you haven't got the proper amount--the lowest possible +amount that's absolutely necessary--you might as well throw your +money into the sea."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then you'll never go at all, because I haven't a thousand +pounds to give you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's simple. I don't think I've fifty pounds at my bankers, and +I'm pretty sure that they won't honour my cheque if I overdraw."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Isabel!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You owe money, don't you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I daresay I owe a bit here and there."</p> + +<p class="normal">"So I've been given to understand. I also owe a bit. And my +creditors, like yours, won't wait."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mine will have to."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Will they? I thought that was just what they wouldn't do."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who's been telling you tales about me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"A little bird. So you see, Gregory, I'm more in want of a +thousand pounds, because you can't carry on a house like this +for long on fifty pounds, even if I have so much at the bank, +which, as I say, I doubt."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Fifty pounds! You're playing the fool with me--it's a favourite +game of yours. What's become of the quarter of a million you +told me that man Grahame had left you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's what I should like to know."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You don't mean you've spent it? You can't have done--not in the +time."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I've never had it to spend."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What rot are you talking? What game are you playing? Have you +all along been telling me nothing but lies?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Cuthbert Grahame told me himself that he was worth more than a +quarter of a million; soon after he died I told you that only a +small portion of the money could be found."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You told me nothing of the kind--you've never told me anything. +Whenever I asked you a question you've always shut me up. You've +kept me all along in the dark."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then I tell you now. Only a small sum was ever found, and +that's been spent--and more than spent."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then am I to understand that he was fooling you when he talked +about his quarter of a million?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't believe that he was. I believe he was telling the +truth; that he was worth what he said; only it's never been +found, and no one seems to know where it is." She held out her +clenched fists in front of her, shaking them, as if she were +endeavouring, by the exercise of sheer physical force, to assist +her mental process. "Sometimes I feel that I know--that I am +very near to knowing--that if I could do something I should know +quite. It's as if I'd been told something in a dream, and, on +waking, had forgotten what it was. I don't like to think of the +time he died--I can't." She looked about her, as if unconscious +of his presence, with something on her face, in her eyes, which +startled him. "Yet if I could--if I could! I believe it would +all come back to me what I have forgotten, and I should know +where the money is. But I can't! I can't! Since--since the +pillow slipped from under him, I--I've never been the same."</p> + +<p class="normal">She dropped into a chair, looking straight in front of her, with +her hands dangling at her sides, as if she saw--she alone knew +what. This was such a new mood for her that its very novelty +scared Mr. Lamb.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't look like that, Belle! What are you looking at?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"God knows! God knows!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Lamb squirmed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't! I say, drop it! You're a cheerful sort of person, upon +my word! I come here to get a pound or two, and you go on like +this! Do you mean to tell me straight that we're hard up?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"There are three things that can save us, and three things only. +If I could think I might find the money."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then, for the Lord's sake, think! Only don't think like that; +it gives me the creeps to hear you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I can't think, anyhow, about that; I've tried, and I can't. If +I could get the money out of McTavish & Brown, that would be +something."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Get it out of any one, but please remember that sharp's the +word."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then there's the play--Harry Talfourd's play--I believe there's +fame and fortune in that--and safety. Do you know what that +means--safety?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Gracious, Isabel! don't shout at me like that! My nerves were +all mops and brooms when I came; you've made them ever so much +worse. I'm all of a twitter. I'll talk to you when you're in a +more reasonable mood; you'll upset me altogether if I stay much +longer." Mr. Lamb withdrew, to return immediately, at least so +far as his head and shoulders were concerned, the rest of his +body he kept on the other side of the door. "Deal fairly with a +chap--do! I must have cash from somewhere, or I shall be in a +deuce of a hole. Can you let me have fifty?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I can't."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Can you make it twenty-five?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I can't. I can't let you have anything. Do you want me to yell +at you? I--can't--let--you--have--anything! Do you hear that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"All right! don't shout at a man like that! I should think you +must be going off your head. I never saw you in such a cranky +mood before."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Lamb beat a precipitate retreat, this time finally. His +wife, left alone, remained seated on her chair in that very +curious attitude, with that very curious look upon her face.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It must be imagination--what they call an optical delusion. +Perhaps, as he says, I'm going off my head. One thing's certain, +it can't be real. This is not his room; that's not his bed; +that's not----" She veiled her eyes with the palms of her hands. +"No! no!--I'm too much alone. I shall go mad if I'm so much +alone--mad!"</p> + +<p class="normal">She sat silent for some moments, with her features all +contorted, as if she were wrestling with actual physical pain. +Then, rising, she took out of a small cupboard in an ormolu +cabinet a decanter containing some colourless liquid. Pouring +some of it into a wineglass she swallowed it at a draught.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was pure ether. She resorted to it to minister to a mind +diseased.</p> + +<p class="normal">When, later, she descended to the apartment which was called, as +it almost seemed ironically, Mr. Talfourd's workroom, that +gentleman rose to greet her with a smile. She also smiled. To +all outward seeming she was herself again--self-possessed, +satisfied with herself and with the world, at peace with every +one. They exchanged a few banal sentences, both remaining on +their feet, she looking at him with eyes which, to phrase it +diplomatically, flattered, he meeting her glance with an +appearance of serene unconsciousness that there was anything in +it which was singular. Presently she touched on the topic which +was to the front in both their minds.</p> + +<p class="normal">"About the play--have you thought it over? Am I to play Lady +Glover?"</p> + +<p class="normal">He still was diplomatic.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You will understand that I, being a conceited and self-centred +author, the matter of my play bulges out until it assumes for me +what you will probably, and correctly, consider exaggerated +proportions. Will you let me think it over a little longer? In +the first place, I have settled nothing with Mr. Winton, and, in +the second, I want to ask you to do me a favour."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are aware that between you and me for you it is but to ask +and to have--anything, everything, I have to give."</p> + +<p class="normal">If her words were significant, the manner in which they were +spoken underlined them. Neither the manner nor the matter of his +reply could be termed sympathetic.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't know if you are aware that I am engaged to be married."</p> + +<p class="normal">If something flickered across her face which was not there a +moment before, it went as quickly as it came.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, I wasn't. Are you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I, of course, don't expect you to be interested in the +trivialities of my life, and I only mention it as a mere detail, +but--the lady would very much like to know you. May she?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"My dear Mr. Talfourd! hadn't you better put it the other way? +May I know her? and when? May I call on her? or will she pay me +the great compliment of coming to see me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're very kind. With your permission she will come and see +you to-night."</p> + +<p class="normal">"To-night? I'm at home--of course! Do you know I'd almost +forgotten it. Bring her by all means. Tell her she's to come +early, before the people, and that she's to stop late, after the +crowd has gone."</p> + +<p class="normal">Of such clay are we constituted. She had not the dimmest notion +that in giving that very warm invitation she was hanging up over +her own head a sword of Damocles, which, in this case, was +suspended by something which was almost less than a single hair.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_21" href="#div1Ref_21">CHAPTER XXI</a></h2> + +<h3>OUT OF THE BLUE</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Gregory Lamb's "At Home" was crowded by rather a +nondescript gathering. The lady's hospitality was scarcely of +the kind which discriminates. Had she set herself to pick and +choose her acquaintances, their number might have been +considerably less. She had learnt that the people she wished to +know were apt not to be anxious to know her; rather the other +way. She had to be content with the society of those who did +wish to know her. Whether she was particularly desirous of the +honour of their acquaintance was another matter altogether. As +she wished to know somebody, using the word in the sense of a +noun of multitude, she had to put up with what she could get. +The result was a little confusing. This is not to say that there +were no decent persons among the hordes which thronged her +rooms: there were. Possibly the chief objection which could be +urged against them was that, for the most part, they were +hungry. Not only as regards the physical appetite; though a +large proportion of them were quite willing to consume all the +food they could obtain, and all the drink. They were hungry in +every sense of the word. To use a significant euphemism, a very +great majority of Mrs. Lamb's guests were "on the make". They +all wanted something. Many wanted a great many things, and +wanted them very badly. There was a generous fringe of what is +called the "literary, musical and artistic world"--those +excellent people who will go into every house into which they +can gain admittance. Singers who are looking for people who will +listen while they sing, and who will pay for listening. Authors +in search of an "opening," victims of that quaint delusion that +in order to achieve popularity it is necessary to keep one's +person well in the public eye, as if it were not easier for the +novelist who lives in the centre of Timbuctoo to gain, and keep, +a circulation of a hundred thousand copies--that consummation so +devoutly to be desired!--than for the pet of London +drawing-rooms. Composers who wanted some one to hear their +"works"; musicians who were apparently content to play on their +various instruments, and keep on playing, whether they were +listened to or not; artists who nourished more or less timid +hope that, having provided them with food, and drink, and +house-room, their hostess would purchase half a dozen of their +"sketches," by way of providing a pleasant climax to their +evening's entertainment; actors--and actresses!--who were +willing to do anything, from the "splits" to "Hamlet," and +to do it then and there; dramatists, who could have told you +tales--and tried to!--of managerial incompetence which would +have made your blood run cold, if they had not been so +monotonously alike. These worthy folk, foredoomed to failure, +were at Mrs. Lamb's in force.</p> + +<p class="normal">There were others. Birds, some of them, of the same plumage, who +had achieved a more successful flight, and promised to sustain +it, and perhaps fly even higher. Men and women who had won for +themselves prominent places in their several callings--perhaps +not quite in the front rank, but still near enough--who, having +been in many such, understood what kind of house it was that +they were in. It is to be feared that they regarded their +hostess at best with but amusement, wondering, if she really had +as much money as people said, how it was that she was willing to +get so little for it.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then there were the nondescripts--that large battalion. Some +actually with titles, though probably a trifle smirched. People +who were the Lord alone knew who, or what they did for a living. +Persons who claimed to be something in the City, and no doubt +were; whose wives, if they had them, gave you the impression +that their husbands were in the same line of business as the +Rothschilds. There was probably no trade or profession, from the +highest to the lowest, which went unrepresented that night in +Connaught Square.</p> + +<p class="normal">And besides all these there were the score or so of individuals +whom the hostess really knew, or thought she did. And among them +moved Mrs. Lamb, as if she knew them all. Beautifully dressed, +probably the best, without doubt the most expensively, dressed +woman there. There were diamonds on her fingers, her wrists, on +her bosom, about her neck, in her hair. If they were real, and +it were blasphemy to doubt it, she would have been reduced into +something worth having if she had been put up to auction as she +stood. She looked, if not exactly divine, then certainly not +unprepossessing. There were many present, both male and female, +who thought her lovely, one of the loveliest women they had ever +seen. That was just the assemblage to which such charms as hers +would make their most strenuous appeal, so that, since a woman +loves appreciation, in her generation she was wise.</p> + +<p class="normal">For one so young, and in years she still was very young, she +bore herself with singular ease. She had cast herself for the +<i>rôle</i> of great lady. If the type on which she had fashioned +herself smacked somewhat of the theatre, her success was none +the less, but rather all the more, on that account. In her way +she really and truly was irresistible. So full of smiles and of +sweetness, so good to look upon. So tall and well set, with such +splendid arms and shoulders, such a rounded neck, such +good-humour in her face. There was such a suggestion of youth +about her--the youth which must prevail, of vital force, of +physical vigour. She presented in herself such a striking +example of the creed that's all for the best in this best of all +possible worlds. She was such an excellent product of that great +and shining god, Success. He had showered on her all his gifts, +and she on her part seemed quite willing to divide them with +whoever would. She seemed to have the knack of saying the right +thing to the right person, being possessed either of a wonderful +memory for names and faces, or, in an almost miraculous degree, +of the trick of arriving, on the instant, at just conclusions +from the scantiest data. She knew who wrote songs; what songs +they had written; even what songs they were about to write; and +who liked it to be thought that they were distant connections of +the Rothschilds. She either had this information stored away in +innumerable cells in her illimitable brain, or she picked it +from people while they talked to her, out of their eyes, lips, +pockets, without their suspecting that she was doing anything of +the kind.</p> + +<p class="normal">She might have stood as the personification of human happiness, +as the possessor of everything that the heart could desire. +There were many there who credited her with being both these +things, envying her more or less, admiring her perhaps even +more. They would have readily believed that in her bed of roses +there was not one crumpled leaf. Her radiant bearing, her +beaming visage, seemed to suggest that she lived, and moved, and +had her being in the lotus-land of happy dreams, which, for her, +had grown realities.</p> + +<p class="normal">As the evening advanced she seemed to become, if anything, more +light-hearted--gayer still--as if the success of her gathering, +the happy looks with which she everywhere was greeted, had +inoculated her with some subtle essence which raised her out of +herself. Harry Talfourd and Margaret Wallace came, in a +"growler," when she was at her best and brightest. Although it +was late, and some of the earliest comers were going, others +were still arriving. A long line of vehicles were slowly +depositing their occupants at the front door. In this line Mr. +Talfourd's cab took its proper place, in the rear, and in that +line it bade fair to continue for some considerable time. The +lady and gentleman soon grew impatient.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Are we going to stay in this cab all night?" inquired Margaret.</p> + +<p class="normal">The gentleman put his head out of the window.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It looks as if we were. We're about half a mile from the house, +and there seems to be no end of confusion; people are both +coming and going, and there's a fine old muddle. I say, Meg, +it's quite fine and dry; do you think you could get out and walk +the rest of the way? or would it make a mess of you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Make a mess of me! what do you mean? Open that door; I'll soon +show you."</p> + +<p class="normal">He opened the door, and she showed him.</p> + +<p class="normal">Getting through the wide open portals of Mrs. Lamb's residence, +and then up the staircase, on which people were ascending and +descending in a continual stream, occupied some time.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I feel," observed Margaret, when they had reached the +drawing-room door, "as if I had gone through a course of the +'home-exerciser,' or whatever they call the thing which is +guaranteed to give employment to every muscle in your body. If +all these persons are Mrs. Lamb's friends she must be a +well-loved woman."</p> + +<p class="normal">In the drawing-rooms themselves there was room to move slowly, +if one observed a few necessary precautions. At their first +entrance nothing could be seen of their hostess. As Harry +piloted her through the room Margaret found sufficient +occupation in the spectacle presented by her fellow-guests. In +the course of her somewhat varied experiences she had met some +curiosities, but never before had she encountered such specimens +of humanity as were about her now. While she was wondering who +they could be, and where they could have come from, Harry gently +pressed her arm.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's Mrs. Lamb in the other room; I'll introduce you."</p> + +<p class="normal">Margaret looked, and saw, in the smaller room which was beyond, +a woman standing, with her back towards her, whom she became +instinctively conscious was her hostess. Not only was she the +most striking figure in that great crowd, but she was surrounded +by a number of people, to all of whom she seemed to be talking +at once. Her head being turned away, her face was not visible +from where they were, so that it could have told her nothing; +yet so singular sometimes is feminine human nature, that Harry +had hardly finished speaking when Margaret replied--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Please don't introduce me to that woman; I'd rather you didn't. +Take me away at once."</p> + +<p class="normal">There was something so unusual in the girl's tone that Harry +stared at her in amazement.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Meg! is there anything wrong?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Thank you, there is nothing wrong, only--I want to go."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Go! You can't go now--it's impossible--before I've introduced +you, since you're here for that special purpose."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't want to be introduced. I'd rather you didn't. Harry, +you mustn't!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Meg, don't look like that. She's not an ogre; she won't bite +you. Child, what's gone wrong with you all of a sudden? You +needn't stop more than five minutes--and this atmosphere's +enough to asphyxiate any one; but, after what I said to her this +morning, and since you have come, the commonest courtesy compels +me to introduce you; afterwards we can go at once; any excuse +will serve. Anyhow it's too late now for us to think of going +before I've made you known to her."</p> + +<p class="normal">What Mr. Talfourd said seemed to be the fact. The current had +borne them so close to their hostess that she had but to turn +round to find herself within arm's length of them. Margaret was +silent. Harry did not look at her face; he was careful not to do +so. The sudden curious change in the girl's manner had affected +him more than he would have cared to admit. He knew that she was +not a person who was liable to be beset by fantastic whims and +fancies, and that there was probably some substantial reason for +the alteration which had taken place in her. His wish was to get +through the ceremony of introduction with as much speed, and as +little ostentation, as he could, and then depart, if the feat +were possible, more quickly than they had come. With this +intention, taking the bull a little by the horns, he addressed +their hostess while her back was still turned towards them.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Lamb!"</p> + +<p class="normal">At the sound of the voice, for whose accents she had been +listening all the evening, the lady moved round with quite a +little swirl of her draperies; there was just sufficient open +space about her to enable her to do it.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mr. Talfourd! I thought you had forgotten me, and were never +coming. And--have you brought the lady?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have. Permit me to introduce to you Miss Margaret Wallace."</p> + +<p class="normal">There have possibly been moments in most of our lives when we +have been visited by something of the nature of a thunderbolt, +and sometimes it has seemed to drop out of the clearest of blue +skies. That was the moment in her life in which the thunderbolt +descended on Mrs. Lamb, and with such crushing force that, for a +too perceptible period of time, it left her literally bereft of +her right senses. Its utter unexpectedness was no slight factor +in the havoc which it wrought. Possibly more than she had been +able to do for a considerable interval she had succeeded in +putting behind her matters which were wont to press too closely; +for the moment she had forgotten Pitmuir--all that it meant. +This was a case in which forgetfulness meant happiness, or a +very tolerable substitute. If only for a few fleeting minutes +her mind was at peace.</p> + +<p class="normal">And, on a sudden, without a moment's warning, not dreaming that +such a meeting was even within the range of possibility, she +found herself confronted by the one person in the world whom she +would have traversed the universe to avoid. There, in her own +drawing-room, within two feet of her was the girl who was the +only living creature whose image haunted her, both awake and +asleep.</p> + +<p class="normal">She had had communion of late with ghosts--unwillingly enough, +for she had resorted to every means with which she was +acquainted to drive them from her. Yet come they would. +Therefore it was not, after all, so strange, that in the first +moments of what practically amounted to delirium, she supposed +that this bonny, fair-haired, blue-eyed girl, whom she so hated +and so feared, was one of them.</p> + +<p class="normal">When she heard her name, and saw her face, she moved back upon +the people who were behind, oblivious that they were there. The +whole fashion of her countenance was changed. She held out her +arms, as if to ward off something whose approach she feared. And +she exclaimed, in a voice which none of those about had heard +from her before--</p> + +<p class="normal">"You can't come in!--you can't! He says you're not to--and you +shan't! Go away! go away!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Not one person in the throng which was around her had a notion +what she meant, Margaret no more than any of them. She herself +drew back and clung to Mr. Talfourd's arm, as if in fear. But +her fear was as nothing to the other's. Their hostess offered in +herself a picture for her guests' inspection which it was not +pleasant to behold. She seemed to have all at once become +transformed into a gibbering idiot. While she persistently drew +farther and farther back, she kept repeating--</p> + +<p class="normal">"You shan't come in!--you shan't! He says you're not to--and you +shan't! you shan't! I say you shan't!"</p> + +<p class="normal">There was among the onlookers a medical man, one who had had +experience of different phases of lunacy. Perceiving that this +was a case which entered into his domain, he forced himself to +the front. He put his hand upon his hostess' bare shoulder.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Lamb! what has affected you? There is nothing here to +cause you the slightest disturbance. Control yourself, I beg."</p> + +<p class="normal">His tone of calm authority had instant effect. Mrs. Lamb was +still, she ceased to gibber. Her arms fell to her sides. She +remained motionless, staring in front of her, as one in a dream. +Putting her hands up to her face, a convulsion seemed to pass +all over her. When she removed her hands she was awake, and +understood, and knew what she had done. The knowledge was more +than she could bear.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Let me pass," she cried.</p> + +<p class="normal">They let her pass. She swept through her guests, who huddled +themselves together to let her go, like some incensed wild +creature, out of the room, from their sight.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_22" href="#div1Ref_22">CHAPTER XXII</a></h2> + +<h3>MARGARET SETTLES THE QUESTION</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">Harry Talfourd hurried Margaret Wallace into the street as fast +as circumstances permitted, while the guests at Mrs. Lamb's were +looking at each other, exchanging whispers, asking what had +happened, what the thing which had happened meant. A few seconds +after the hostess' departure the crowded rooms were filled with +the buzz of voices, which rose higher and higher until it became +a pandemonium of noise. Mrs. Lamb's "At Home" had resolved +itself into chaos.</p> + +<p class="normal">Outside in the street Mr. Talfourd did not find it easy to get a +cab; the chaos within was already beginning to make itself felt +without. The whole roadway was a confusion of vehicles. +Perceiving that it was inadvisable to stand still, since they +immediately became the cynosure of curious, and even +impertinent, eyes, Harry marched resolutely onward, holding the +girl tightly by the arm. They had to go some little distance +before they could find a four-wheeled cab which would condescend +to give them shelter.</p> + +<p class="normal">So soon as they were in, Margaret drew back into the corner of +her seat with a movement so eloquent that Harry seemed to hear +her shiver. He was silent, trying to collect his thoughts. He +was as much at a loss as any of the excited people they were +leaving behind. When he spoke it was lightly, as if he desired +to make as little of the matter as might be. He was conscious +that in the farther corner, as far away from him as she could +get, was the girl he loved, in a mood wholly unlike any that he +had known before. He was fearful of what might be coming next. +So he endeavoured not to be serious.</p> + +<p class="normal">"This promises to be a night of adventure. Did you ever see such +a scramble for cabs? People were rushing out of the house as if +it were on fire. We'll hope there'll be no accident before +they've finished. What did you think of Mrs. Gregory Lamb? +Something must have occurred to upset her equilibrium; she +showed quite a new side of her character." Margaret was still. +He seemed to hear her breathe; he wondered if it were possible +that she was crying. He put out his hand, touching hers gently +with his finger-tips. Although she did not repulse him she +remained impassive, not in any way acknowledging his caress. +"Meg, I hope you're not worrying yourself about that woman's +behaviour. She's not quite responsible, I fancy. She certainly +wasn't to-night, but there was nothing that need trouble you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am wondering what she meant."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Meant? My dear child, she meant nothing, absolutely nothing. +She's a trifle mad, that's all."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm not so sure. I believe she did mean something."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What on earth makes you think that? What could she mean?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I can't explain. At present I don't understand myself; but I +shall--I know I shall. Only I'm afraid."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Afraid! Sweetheart, don't talk like that! You make me feel as +if I had done something I oughtn't to have done."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You have done nothing. Still I wish you hadn't introduced me. I +asked you not to."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But, Meg! the whole thing was your own proposition; the whole +idea was yours from first to last."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, I know; but then I didn't understand."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What didn't you understand?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I hadn't seen her."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You hadn't seen her? Meg, have you ever seen Mrs. Lamb before?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Never."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Has she ever seen you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's what I'm wondering; that's what I'm trying to make out."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's a very mysterious business altogether; and the way you're +taking it seems to me to be not the least mysterious part of the +whole affair--and I can't say that I'm fond of mysteries. +However, as some one or other says in a play, though I'm afraid +I can't tell you what play, 'Time will show'."</p> + +<p class="normal">When they reached Margaret's rooms they found that Frank Staines +and Mr. Winton had arrived already, and were waiting for them at +the street door. They all went up together. So soon as they were +in the room Mr. Winton asked his question--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, Miss Wallace, is Mrs. Lamb to create Lady Glover?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Had he put to her an inquiry on the answer to which the whole +happiness of her life was dependent, it could hardly have moved +her more.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Never! never! never!"</p> + +<p class="normal">She repeated the word three times over, with each time an +additional emphasis. Mr. Winton, probably accustomed to +strenuous utterances on the part of ladies to whom the theatre +was the chief end and aim of their existence, appeared to be +entertained by her intensity. Putting his hands behind his back +he regarded her with smiling face.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And isn't she to produce the play?--that is, if she's willing +to do so if she's not to be allowed to play in it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"She is to have nothing to do with it--nothing."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You appear to have arrived, Miss Wallace, at a decision which +is final and conclusive, and to have done so in a very short +space of time."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have."</p> + +<p class="normal">"The matter is placed beyond the pale of my discussion?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Winton turned to Harry with a little gesture of amusement.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then, Talfourd, we shall have to seek for another capitalist, +and as that is not a bird which is easy to find, 'The Gordian +Knot' will have to be shelved for a still further indefinite +period. Let's trust that some of us will live to see it +produced."</p> + +<p class="normal">In her turn Margaret faced Harry with an air of penitence.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm so sorry, but I would rather that it were never produced at +all than that it should owe anything to that woman--and you know +how I have set my heart on its success."</p> + +<p class="normal">He tried to comfort her, as if the loss were hers.</p> + +<p class="normal">"'The Gordian Knot' won't spoil by keeping; don't let it trouble +you a little bit; dismiss Mrs. Lamb from your mind as if she had +never been. She's nothing to you, or to me, or to any of us; +she's just--like that!"</p> + +<p class="normal">He snapped his fingers in the air, as if by the action he +expressed her valuation. Margaret answered with an enigmatic +smile.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Like that? I don't think she'll be to me like that--ever."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But, my dear girl, why not? why not?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ah! that I cannot tell you, because I don't know. But I shall +know, and, when I do, I daresay I shall wish I didn't."</p> + +<p class="normal">Harry threw up his hands in the air as if it were a case which +baffled him. Frank Staines, who had been listening with a +twinkle in his eyes, observed--</p> + +<p class="normal">"I understand, Miss Wallace, that your appearance at Mrs. Lamb's +furnished the occasion for quite a dramatic interlude".</p> + +<p class="normal">Margaret moved her shoulders, as if the recollection made her +shudder.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind--thank you very +much. I'm awfully sorry to turn you people out, but--I think I'd +like to go to bed, if I may."</p> + +<p class="normal">When the three men found themselves in the street Winton said to +Harry--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Miss Wallace's idea does not seem to have been altogether a +success".</p> + +<p class="normal">Harry did not reply at once; when he did his tone was a little +grim.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm not so sure. My own impression is--though if you were to +ask me I could not tell you in so many set terms on what it's +founded--that we're well rid of the lady, and that we are rid of +her I think there's very little doubt."</p> + +<p class="normal">Frank Staines remarked--</p> + +<p class="normal">"If the lady's mad, or if she's subject to fits of madness--and +if she isn't I don't know what she is--it's just as well that +you've discovered it before it was too late".</p> + +<p class="normal">Judging from their silence that seemed to be the opinion of the +others also.</p> + +<p class="normal">The next morning Miss Wallace was distinctly in an +uncommunicative mood, as Miss Johnson, who paid her a very +matutinal call, found, whereupon the young lady expressed +herself with characteristic frankness.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Really, Meg, I've known you for quite a time, and I was just +beginning to think that you were a really Christian person, but +now it's actually bursting on me that you can be nothing of the +kind. You sit there, mumchance, looking all sorts of things and +saying nothing; and if there can be anything more exasperating +than that, I should like to know what, it is. You promised, last +night, before you went to Mrs. Lamb, that you would tell me +everything that happened--I'm sure something did happen, by the +looks of you--yet the more I ask you questions, the more you +won't answer them. Do you call that being as good as your word? +I don't--so that's plain. I'm disappointed in you, Margaret +Wallace."</p> + +<p class="normal">Margaret smiled, a little wanly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I hope you'll forgive me, Dollie, please! but I can't talk to +you just now, and especially about last night. Ask Harry, or Mr. +Staines, they'll tell you everything, and perhaps a little later +I will myself, but just now I really and truly can't."</p> + +<p class="normal">Dollie, eyeing her shrewdly, perceiving she was in earnest, +bowed to the inevitable.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Very well; I shouldn't dream of asking anything of Mr. Frank +Staines, he might treat me even worse than you are doing. But +it's possible that I may put a few questions to your Harry. The +fact is that if some one doesn't tell me something soon I shall +simply burst with curiosity. I have never concealed from any one +that curiosity's my ruling passion--it's the case with all +literary persons, my dear! Meg!"--she went and put her arm about +the girl's neck, and the tone of her voice was changed--"if +anything horrid happened at that woman's, never mind; after all, +horrid things don't really matter, they generally turn out much +better than they seem. I once had thirteen MSS. rejected in one +week, and yet I bore up, and I planted them all before I'd done +with them. I've never seen you look like this before, and I +don't half like it. I always make you the heroine of all my +stories, because you're the best plucked girl I ever met; so +buck up, and stop it as soon as you conveniently can."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miss Johnson had not departed very long before Margaret had +another visitor--Dr. Twelves. He found her much more talkative +than Dollie had done.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_23" href="#div1Ref_23">CHAPTER XXIII</a></h2> + +<h3>MARGARET RESOLVES TO FIGHT</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">So soon as the doctor appeared in the doorway Margaret ran to +him with outstretched hands, in her voice a curious, eager note.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I knew you'd come!--I knew it!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor took her soft hands in his well-worn ones, regarding +her from under the pent-house of his overhanging brows with his +keen hawk's eyes, which age had not perceptibly dimmed, as if he +sought for something which he fancied might be hidden in some +corner of her face.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Did you? How did you know it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't know; but I did--I was sure."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Maybe you've the gift of second sight. I've heard it said it +was in your father's family."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I wish I had; it would be the most useful gift I could have +just now."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Would it? How's that? Maybe you knew I'd come because you +wanted me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Wanted you! Doctor, don't you feel unduly flattered! But +there's no one in the world I wanted half so much as you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is that so? Then it's queer, because I just happen to be +wanting you nearly as much. But before we fall to talking come +to the light, and let me see your face. There's something there +which puzzles me, which I've never seen on it before; it's sure +I am it wasn't there the other day."</p> + +<p class="normal">Taking her by the arm he would have led her to the window, but +she placed her hand against his chest and stopped him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, no, doctor, you mustn't take me to the light, and you +mustn't look at my face either. I'd rather you turned right +round and look at the wall. There's quite a pretty paper on the +wall, and some drawings of mine which you'll find deserve your +very closest attention. I just want to talk to you, and I want +you to talk to me, and answer some questions which I'm going to +ask--and that's all."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And that's all? I see. And I'm not to look at your face? Good. +It's prettier than the paper, and far more deserving of +attention than the drawings, but far be it from me to quiz a +lady when she'd rather I didn't. Yet before you start the +talking--perhaps when you've started you'll be slow to +finish--let me say a word. You remember what you told me about +that visit you paid to Cuthbert Grahame--that last visit when +they wouldn't let you in?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's exactly about that I wish to speak to you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then that's queerer still, because it's about that I've come to +talk. You told me that it was Nannie Foreshaw who refused you +admission, and that she poured some water on you; and I told you +that I didn't see how she could have very well done that, since, +at that very time, she was lying, with her leg broken, in bed. +When I left I wrote and asked her what she had to say. I've had +an answer from her, and here it is." He took an envelope from +his pocket, and from the envelope a letter, speaking all the +time. "You'll bear in mind that Nannie's not so young as she +was, and that, of late, things have fared ill with her, as they +have a trick of doing when one grows old. She's had a broken +leg, and that's no trifle when the marrow's getting dry in the +bone; and her master--whom she'd had in her arms even before +he'd lain in his mother's--had come to his death in a way that +wasn't so plain as it might have been. She's never quite got the +better of that broken leg; she walks with a stick, and she'll +never walk without one; and she'll never be rid of the thought +that, when Cuthbert Grahame died, though she was only just +above, she couldn't get down to him, or shut his eyes, or see +him before he was put in his coffin, or stand by his grave when +he was buried. That thought troubles her more than the other. +Between the one and the other, and the stress of advancing +years, she's not so good a penwoman as she used to be. And so it +comes about that this letter which I have here was not written +by her own hand, though I have no doubt that they're just her +own words which are set down in it."</p> + +<p class="normal">Unfolding the sheet of paper he proceeded to read aloud.</p> + +<p class="normal">"'Dear Mr. David'--she's called me that these forty years, and +before that it was Master David, and it doesn't seem as if she +could break herself of the habit, though, mind you, I'm an M.D. +of Edinburgh University, and legally entitled to the prefix +'Doctor,' which is more than can be said for a good many that's +called it. 'It's beyond my thinking'--it's very colloquially +written is this letter, which makes me the more sure that it's +just her words which are set down in it--'It's beyond my +thinking how you could have supposed that I could ever have +turned my darling away from the door?--I never supposed anything +of the kind, but that's by the way--'and refuse to let her in? +My dear Miss Margaret! Mr. David, if I were dying I'd open the +door if I knew that she was there--ay, I believe I would climb +out of my grave to do it.' You observe what exaggerated language +the woman uses? That's her all over. 'And to think that it +should have been her on the day of which you speak--that awful +day! I'll never forgive myself now that I know it.' That's her +again. 'And, Mr. David, I'll find it hard to forgive you +either.' That's the woman to a T--logical. 'If you'd never +brought the creature to the house none of it would ever have +happened, and my darling would never have been denied the door. +And hot water thrown on her sweet head! How slow is the judgment +of God!' Observe how she flies off at a tangent. 'Now I'll tell +you the whole story. That day as I was lying in my bed, where +she had laid me, I heard a great clatter in the house. When, +after it was over, she came up to see me, I asked her what it +was about. She said that a strange man had come begging to the +house, and had tried to force himself into it, but that she had +had to imitate my voice, to make him think it was me that was +talking to him, before he would go. The insolence of her, that +she should try to imitate her betters, and tell me of it to my +face. And now it seems that it was no strange man at all, but +just my darling who had come begging to be let into her own +home. That wicked woman! Tell my sweet, when you see her, Mr. +David, just how it was. And tell her if I had known it was she I +would have crawled down, if it had been on my hands and knees, +to undo the door, and bid her welcome. And say to her that +there's none dearer to me in all the world than she is, and well +she ought to know it. There is one prayer I offer constantly, +that I may be spared to see her sweet face again, and hold her +in my arms, and listen to her dear, soft voice. There is much +more that I would say, but it cannot be written; it is only for +her and for me.' Then the old woman goes off rambling; there is +more, but nothing to the point. Here is her letter; you may read +it for yourself if you like; there are tender messages by the +yard. You'll see that that is not the epistle of a woman who +would drive you from her door."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But I don't understand. Who does she mean imitated her voice?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"The woman who called herself Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who called herself Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame? I've heard something +about some woman, but nothing that was at all plain. Tell me who +she was, and how she came to call herself by his name."</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor told, as succinctly as he could, the story of the +woman he had picked up by the wayside; how, though he had found +her helpless, she had proved herself to be more than a match for +them all. Margaret listened with eyes which grew wider and wider +open. When he had finished she broke into exclamation.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then Nannie is right; it was through you that it all happened."</p> + +<p class="normal">He resorted to his favourite trick--he stroked his bristly chin, +as if the action assisted him in the search for an appropriate +answer.</p> + +<p class="normal">"In a measure, young lady--in a measure. My original intention +was to perform an act of mercy. You would not have had me leave +the creature there in the night to perish. The whole business is +but an illustration of the truth of how great events from little +causes spring."</p> + +<p class="normal">"To give her assistance, shelter--that was right enough; but, +according to your own statement, you were responsible for that +mockery of marriage."</p> + +<p class="normal">The rubbing of the bristles went on with redoubled energy.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I might say something on that point, but I'll not; I'll just +admit I'm guilty. And I'll do it the more willingly because +there hasn't been a day on which I haven't told myself that if +there's a creature on God's earth that needed well and regular +hiding that creature's me, because of what I did that night. I +did a great wrong, a great folly, and a great sin. Margaret, +though I am old and you are young, I am ready, if you wish +it--and you'll be right to wish it--to humble myself in the dust +at your feet. My only consolation is that in His infinite mercy, +ultimately, there may be forgiveness even for me." He paused, +then added, with in his voice and manner a suggestion of utter +self-abasement which was in itself pathetic, "And the worst I've +still to add".</p> + +<p class="normal">"The worst?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She shrank from him, with what seemed to be a gesture of +involuntary and almost unconscious repulsion.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ay, the very worst. Only don't draw yourself from me like that, +lassie--for the love of Christ; for I'm but a poor old man +that's sinned, and that's very near his end, and that would do +all he can to repair his sin before death has him by the +throat."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I--I didn't mean to be unkind, but--what were you going to +say?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"One thing's about his money--Cuthbert Grahame's money. Several +times he spoke to me about you--more than kindly. I believe he +had it in his mind--as I had, and have it, in mine--to repair +the wrong he'd done you. I have reason to think that it was his +intention to leave you at least a large portion of his fortune, +to re-make the will I had helped him break. I believe that, with +one of his cranky notions to be revenged on her for the part +she'd played, he communicated his intention to her; that he went +so far as to instruct her to draw up such a form of will as he +required. My own impression is that she either actually did do +this, or pretended to, and that, when the time came for him to +affix his signature, she performed some feat of jugglery, which, +under the circumstances, was easy enough, and so got him to sign +a document which expressed the exact opposite of his wishes."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you mean that he thought he was leaving me his money when +actually he was leaving it to her?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's about the truth of it--I believe it strongly. I am +persuaded that the will she produced she got from him by means +of a trick. But that is not the worst."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Doctor, you're--you're like the old fable, you pile Pelion on +Ossa."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I believe that when she had got the will into her possession, +all signed and witnessed, she was confronted by the fact that +exposure of its contents might render it invalid at any moment. +That is probably what would have happened, and in a very short +time, so that to make sure, she killed him then and there."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Killed him!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am convinced that Cuthbert Grahame was killed by the woman +who called herself his wife, and that within ten minutes of the +signing of his will. She propped him up with pillows, then, by +suddenly withdrawing those which supported his head, she let it +hang down, and so choked him. In order to avoid suffocation it +was always necessary to keep his head well raised, a fact with +which no doubt she had made herself acquainted."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Doctor! But was there no inquest?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Certainly; and I gave evidence. But what could I say? I had no +proof--not an iota. I could only express my conviction that it +was impossible for him to have moved the pillows himself; and I +did. I doubt if that bare statement had any effect upon the +verdict. She was a very clever woman."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Clever! you call her!--clever! If you are right she was an +awful woman--you mustn't call her clever. That sort of thing's +not cleverness."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Isn't it? I don't know what it is then. If we had realised her +cleverness from the first we might have been prepared for her; +she might have met her match. It is only by fully recognising +the fact that we have to deal with an uncommonly clever woman +that we shall have the slightest chance of getting the better of +her, and bringing her to book."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Bringing her to book! Doctor! where is she? Is she at Pitmuir?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's not the least strange part of the whole strange +business--where she is. I've been wondering if it's a sign that +God's finger has been slowly moving to set on her His brand. The +young gentleman in whom, I presume, you take a certain amount of +interest, since, one day, you design to honour him by allowing +him to make of you his wife--Mr. Harry Talfourd--told me that he +acts as secretary to a lady."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I know."</p> + +<p class="normal">"The lady's name is Lamb--Mrs. Gregory Lamb."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes."</p> + +<p class="normal">Margaret, as she uttered the word, was conscious of a catching +in her breath; she herself did not know why.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Gregory Lamb is the woman I found by the roadside; who +told me that her name was Isabel Burney; who called herself Mrs. +Cuthbert Grahame; who juggled into existence the will under +which she inherits; who murdered the man out of whom she got it +by a trick."</p> + +<p class="normal">Margaret was silent, curiously silent. Then she drew a long +breath, and she said--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now I understand".</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor was struck by something in her intonation which was +odd.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Just what is it you understand?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She repeated her own words.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now I understand. The veil which seemed to obscure my sight is +being torn away; things are getting plainer and plainer. She was +not mad, as we thought; it was we who were ignorant. Doctor, I +believe that the finger of God, of which you spoke just now, has +moved already."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is likely. It is some time since I looked for it to move, +but He chooses His own time. As for what you say about your +understanding, to me your words are cryptic--unriddle them, +young lady, if you please."</p> + +<p class="normal">Margaret, in her turn, told her tale: of her visit to Mrs. +Gregory Lamb; of its abrupt and singular termination. The doctor +listened with every sign of the liveliest interest.</p> + +<p class="normal">"As you observe," he cried, when she had done, "it would seem +that the finger of God has moved already. She knew you although +you did not know her, and the sight of you was as though one had +risen from the grave; it filled her with unescapable terror."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's difficult to explain--I've not been able to explain it to +myself until this minute--but I did know her, that is, I felt as +if I ought to know her. Directly Harry pointed her out to me, +something struck at my heart and set me trembling. I don't +often tremble, but I did then. It was as if I were confronted by +some dreadful danger, which had threatened me before, and from +which I had then only escaped by the skin of my teeth. And +yet I don't know that the feeling which affected me most +strongly was terror. No, I don't think it was. It was something +else--something which I can't describe. I believe--doctor, I +believe it was hatred. I hated that woman with a hatred which +was altogether beyond anything of which I had dreamed as +possible, of which I had supposed myself to be capable. I don't +hate people as a rule; I don't remember ever having met any one +whom I seriously disliked. I do think that in almost every one I +have come across I have seen something which I liked. But--in +her! I didn't want Harry to introduce me, to take me nearer, +because I was filled with what seemed even to me an insane, +indeed a demoniacal desire to kill her where she stood."</p> + +<p class="normal">While the girl was speaking her appearance seemed to gradually +change, till, when she stopped, she seemed to stand before the +old man like some rhadamanthine, accusatory spirit, ready to +pronounce judgment and to execute the judgment which she herself +pronounced. The doctor watched her with a visage which remained +immobile, almost expressionless.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Your words suggest a kind of justice which has become +extinct--in politer circles."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yet justice shall be done!--it shall be done! I will see to it. +I never did her a harm, nor wished her one. Yet she has done me +all the mischief that she could, for wickedness' sake. If she +killed Cuthbert Grahame, she should have killed me also, for, if +I live, I will bring her to the judgment-seat. You say she is in +enjoyment of the money which she won from him by a trick, and +whose safe possession she insured to herself by murder----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Pardon me; to her that's the fly in the ointment. It's +precisely the money which she hasn't got--which is doubly hard, +since, to gain it, she did all that she did."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I thought you said that she had it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"She has the will under which she inherits, but, so far, she has +inherited comparatively little. Did Grahame ever talk to you +about his money?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"In those latter days, when I began to be a woman, there were +only two things about which he would talk, one was his money, +the other his desire that I should be his wife. I loved him +dearly! No daughter ever loved her father better than I loved +him, but not like that!--not like that! When I said no, he would +talk of his money, holding it out as a bait."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Did he ever tell you how much of it there was?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He was always saying all sorts of things; I cannot remember all +he said. I know he told me again and again that he had been +saving his money for years for my sake, for me to use when I +became his wife--his wife! He said more than once that there +were fifty thousand pounds a year waiting for me if--if I would +only say the word."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Fifty thousand pounds a year? A nice little bait with which to +cover the hook. Some girls would have swallowed the bait and +never minded the hook."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Doctor!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Calm yourself, young lady; don't blast me with the lightning of +your eyes. I'm but saying what's well known to all the world. +And did he say where that snug little income came from?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"From his investments. He was always boasting of the lucky +investments he had made."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Did he ever tell you in what?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He wanted to often, but I wouldn't listen. I daresay he did +mention some of the names, but I paid no attention and have +forgotten them if he did. I hated to hear of his money. I knew +what it meant to him, and I couldn't get him to understand that +it didn't--and never would!--mean the same to me. His talk about +his money helped to poison my life."</p> + +<p class="normal">"One knows that to a young girl money has a way of not meaning +so much as to some of us older folk, so I humbly ask your pardon +if I seem to dwell on it too long. Yet I would ask you to cast +back in your mind and think if he ever dropped a hint as to +where the securities, the documents which represented these +investments, might be found?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Weren't they at the bank? or with his lawyers?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"They were not. Cannot you recall a hint which he may at +sometime have let fall as to their whereabouts?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She put her hands up to her temples, either to ease her +throbbing temples or to aid her memory in its task of looking +back.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I can't think! I can't think!--not now! There are so many +things of which I have to think, that they seem to have left me +no power to think of anything else. Some day something which he +once said may come back; I haven't forgotten much he did say to +me; it's all somewhere in my brain, only I can't tell you just +where--not at this very moment. At this moment I can only think +of her."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of whom?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The voice which made the inquiry was Harry Talfourd's. He stood +in the open doorway with his hat in his hand. Perceiving that +his appearance seemed to have taken them by surprise he +proceeded to explain.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I did knock--twice; but I presume that you were so much +engrossed by what you were saying to each other that my modest +raps went unheeded. I heard you say, Meg, in tragic, not to say +melodramatic tones, that you can only think of her. Shall I be +impertinent if I venture to ask who is the lucky person who so +fully occupies your thoughts?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"The lucky person, as you call her, is Mrs. Gregory Lamb. Harry, +they say that in England the duelling days are over. They may +be--that is, so far as so-called 'affairs of honour' are +concerned--but for duels of another sort the day is never over. +I am going to engage in a duel with Mrs. Gregory Lamb. You and +Dr. Twelves here will be my seconds. I shall need all the +assistance that seconds may honourably give to their principal, +for it will be a duel to the death."</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_24" href="#div1Ref_24">CHAPTER XXIV</a></h2> + +<h3>THE INTERIOR</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">Rather a curious state of things prevailed in Mrs. Lamb's +residence in Connaught Square. The largest and best regulated +establishments are apt to be disorganised when festival has been +kept the night before--that is true enough. But in this case the +disorganisation was something altogether out of the common. Mr. +Lamb, who never attended his wife's receptions, and so pleased +himself and the lady, had come home with the milk, just sober +enough to wonder why the place was in such a state of singular +confusion. The servants seemed to be occupying the reception +rooms, enjoying themselves in a fashion in which servants are +not supposed to do. He had a vague recollection of having a +drink with a footman or some such menial while endeavouring to +ascertain what was the meaning of the proceedings, and of +pledging a housemaid's health in what he was convinced was a +glass of his wife's champagne. But as, later, he was only too +glad to be assisted upstairs by any one and every one, his +memory of what took place was scarcely to be relied upon.</p> + +<p class="normal">His wife had shut herself in her room, constraining her guests +to take their departure without affording them an opportunity of +saying good-bye to their hostess, and offering her their thanks +for a very pleasant evening. Exactly what occurred behind that +locked door she alone knew. When her senses returned she was +still in her splendour of the previous night. She half lay, half +sat, upon her boudoir floor, with her head upon a couch. A +broken wine-glass was at her side. A decanter which had held +ether was overturned on a buhl table. The day streamed through +the windows.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was some seconds before she recognised these facts. Then she +rose to her feet and looked about her. The first thing she did +was to go to the boudoir door and try if it was locked. When she +found that it was, and that the key was nicely adjusted in the +keyhole, so as to prevent any one peeping in from without, she +strode through another door, which stood ajar, into her bedroom, +which adjoined. She tried the outer door of that, to find that +it also was locked. She glanced at a silver clock which stood +upon the mantelpiece. According to it the time was twenty +minutes to one, so that more than half of the day had already +gone. Then she went to a cheval glass, which mirrored her from +head to foot, and glanced at herself.</p> + +<p class="normal">What she saw seemed to afford her a grim sort of amusement. Her +hair was all in disorder, one long tress trailed down her neck. +Her eyes were dull and heavy. Her cheeks were smeared; such +"aids to beauty" as she patronised had become misplaced. Her +gown was all creased and crumpled; a stain straggled right +across the bodice. In a few curt words she recognised the +situation so far as the dress was concerned.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's done for."</p> + +<p class="normal">It looked as if it were, it might have been worn twenty times +instead of only once. She removed her jewels--her bracelets from +her wrists, rings from her fingers, her necklace, ornaments from +her hair. When they were all off she took them in her hands and +stared at them.</p> + +<p class="normal">"At any rate, you're worth money. I daresay I could get +something on you if I tried, though perhaps not so much as some +might think."</p> + +<p class="normal">She tossed them on to the dressing-table with a mirthless laugh. +Disrobing herself, donning her nightdress, she ensconced herself +between the sheets. There she tossed and tumbled about in such a +fashion that one was almost disposed to suspect her of indulging +in some new form of physical exercise. When she had got the bed +into a condition which suggested that it had been occupied +throughout the entire night by some peculiarly restless person, +ceasing to turn and twist, for some minutes she lay quite still, +as if she listened.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Those servants of mine don't seem to be making much noise; +there aren't many sounds of their moving about the house. I +should like to know where Stephanie is; she ought to have woke +me long before this."</p> + +<p class="normal">Stretching out her arm she pressed the electric button which was +by her bedside--once, twice, thrice, indeed half-a-dozen times, +on each occasion for an unusual length of time, and with a fair +interval between each pressure. Nothing, however, transpired to +show that she had rung at all, certainly no one answered her +summons. As she began to realise that apparently she was not +meeting with attention of any sort or kind, her temper did not +improve. She kept up a continuous ringing; still no one +answered, nor was there aught to show that there was any that +heard. She began to be concerned.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Has every one taken French leave, and am I alone in the house? +What's it mean?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She kept her finger on the button for another good five minutes, +then she decided that the moment had arrived when it would +probably be desirable that she should make some inquiries on her +own account. Rising, she put on some clothes, over them a +dressing-gown. Then, unlocking the bedroom door, she went out on +to the landing. Nothing could be heard. She descended to the +floor below, on which were the drawing-rooms. No attempt to tidy +them had been made since the guests departed; they were in a +state of almost picturesque confusion. Not even the electric +lights had been turned off; they were blazing away as merrily as +if it were still the middle of the night. The apartments +contained certain articles which, as refreshments were provided +in the dining-room, could scarcely have been there when the +guests retired. Bottles and glasses were everywhere--all kinds +of bottles and all kinds of glasses, indeed Mrs. Lamb had nearly +stumbled over what looked like an empty brandy bottle as she +came out of her bedroom door. To Mrs. Lamb the sight of those +various empty receptacles was pregnant with meaning.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The beauties! I suppose they're sleeping it off. They shall +smart for this, every one of them."</p> + +<p class="normal">She turned towards the staircase which led to the servants' +quarters, with the intention, no doubt, of making them smart, +when she encountered one of them. An unkempt, untidy figure, +clad in a nondescript costume, consisting of checked tweed +trousers, carpet slippers, dress-coat and waistcoat, crumpled +shirt and collar and no necktie, came strolling leisurely down +the stairs as Mrs. Lamb was about to ascend them. It was James +Cottrell, the butler, in general, so far as appearances went, +the most immaculate of beings. His mistress stared at him in not +unnatural surprise.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Cottrell!--you!--in that state!--at this time of day!--why, +you're not even dressed."</p> + +<p class="normal">So far from showing any signs of being ashamed or disconcerted, +Mr. Cottrell's manner was not only self-possessed, it was +affability itself. Thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets, +he tilted himself on his heels, till his legs touched the stair +behind, and he smiled.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, Mrs. Lamb, I am not dressed--that is, my costume is not in +that perfect state of completeness which I prefer. It is not my +habit to make personal remarks, but since we are on the subject, +I may observe that you're not dressed either. I shouldn't call +that dressing-gown full dress--would you? Your hair don't +look--to me--as if it had been done for days, and you really +must excuse my mentioning that your complexion seems to have got +itself all mixed up anyhow."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Cottrell, you're drunk; how dare you speak to me like that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, Mrs. Lamb, I am not drunk; I do assure you that I am at +least as sober as you are. If you want to know what drink can do +for a man, I recommend you to go and look at your husband--there +is a drunkard, if you like; he's like a perambulating sponge. +Last night it took six of us to get him upstairs; that man ought +to be black-listed. As for daring to speak to you, Mrs. Lamb, +there may be some folks whom you inspire with awe, but you don't +inspire me with any."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't you think I'll let you speak to me like that, although +you are a man and I'm a woman. You'll leave my service at +once--and without a character."</p> + +<p class="normal">"As for a character, any character which you might give me, Mrs. +Lamb, would, in all human probability, do me more harm than +good. It will be my constant endeavour to conceal the fact that +I ever occupied a position in your establishment; it might do me +a serious injury were it to become known. As to leaving your +service, I shall be only too glad to do so inside sixty seconds; +only there's a little formality which I should like to have +completed before I go. I should like to have my overdue wages, +Mrs. Lamb. They are more than three months overdue, and I should +like to see the colour of my money, Mrs. Lamb."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You shall have your wages; you needn't be afraid."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Thank you; that is good news. Because, to be quite frank, I was +beginning to be afraid--in fact, we all were."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You impertinent brute! Where are those other creatures?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Other creatures? You refer to my colleagues, male and female? +We are all of us creatures, Mrs. Lamb--including you. I believe +that two or three of them have already quitted your service, +including the young Frenchwoman who was supposed to be your own +particular maid. She said that she never bargained to wait on a +woman of your class, so she's gone. I noticed two young women in +the kitchen when I was down there just now. They seemed to be in +a more or less tearful condition. Poor wretches! perhaps they +never expected to find themselves in such a place as this. As +for the rest of my colleagues, I fancy they are still in bed. I +do not doubt that if you take them their overdue wages they'll +get up, and get out of the house also, as quickly as you like. I +imagine they'll be only too glad of the chance."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Lamb looked at Mr. Cottrell as if she were meditating +measures of a distinctly active kind. Although he might not have +been conscious of it, for some seconds he stood in imminent +peril of realising that, at least physically, his mistress was +more than a match for the average man. But, apparently, after +thinking things over she changed her mind and postponed +hostilities.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You shall be paid for this, my man--they all shall--just wait a +bit." She moved, as if to return to her bedroom, then paused. +"There's some one at the door."</p> + +<p class="normal">There did seem to be some one at the front door, some one who +saluted with equal vigour both the bell and the knocker. Mr. +Cottrell was philosophical.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ah! there's been one or two already this morning. You've +perhaps been in such a queer state yourself that you didn't hear +them, though they made noise enough; but there have been several +visitors. Jones the fishmonger wants his little account, and +Franks the butcher wants his, and Murphy the greengrocer, and +the baker, and the grocer, and the milkman, and, I think, the +laundry, and three or four more besides. They all want their +little accounts--good big ones some of them are. I peeped +through the dining-room window, but I didn't notice just who was +there, and I didn't open to them either. I've had about enough +of opening to those kind of people; they won't go round to the +side entrance, and it's no use asking them to. But that sounds +as if it was the landlord come to put the brokers in for rent. A +landlord always thinks himself entitled to make as much noise as +he likes at his own front door."</p> + +<p class="normal">Some one seemed to consider himself at liberty to make as much +clatter as he liked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Cottrell, go down at once and see who is at the door."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Wouldn't you like to go and see yourself, Mrs. Lamb?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you don't obey my orders and go at once I'll throw you out +of the house with my own hands, and you shall whistle for your +wages."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Like this? Do I look as if I were in a fit state of attire to +open the door of even such a lady as yourself, Mrs. Lamb?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Are you going?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The lady mounted two or three steps; there was something so +significant in her manner that Mr. Cottrell temporised.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I shall be only too happy to open the door as I am!--if you +will allow me to pass." She allowed him, and he passed, firing a +passing shot as he went. "You must understand that I intend to +be perfectly frank with whoever's there--perfectly frank, and +truthful. I have had more than sufficient of telling lies on +your account, Mrs. Lamb." At this point, throwing the hall-door +wide open, he addressed some unseen individuals who were without +in tones which were perhaps unnecessarily loud. "If any of you +people want money--and by the look of you I can see you do--it's +no use your asking me, and so I may tell you at once, because I +want money too, and from the same person, and that's Mrs. Lamb; +and as Mrs. Lamb happens to be standing at this moment at the +top of the staircase, in her dressing-gown and with her hair all +over the place, perhaps you'll step in right away, and just say +to her what you've got to say. Well, sir, and what might you +happen to be wanting? Oh, it's Mr. Luker, is it? May I ask, sir, +what you mean by pushing me about as if I was a mechanical toy?"</p> + +<p class="normal">It was indeed Mr. Isaac Luker, who had come into the hall with +complete disregard of the fact that Mr. Cottrell was standing in +the doorway. Being in, the visitor regarded the voluble butler +with characteristic impassivity. Then, stretching out the +forefinger of his right hand, he tapped at the centre of Mr. +Cottrell's crumpled shirt-front, and he delivered himself +thus:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"My advice to you is to put your head under the pump if there is +one, and under the tap if there isn't, and let the water run for +a good half-hour, for a complaint like yours it's the best +medicine you can possibly have".</p> + +<p class="normal">It seemed that Mr. Cottrell was so taken aback by the proffer of +this very handsome advice that for a moment or two he was at a +loss for a retort; before he found one his mistress had +interposed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Luker, come up here!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Luker looked at the lady at the head of the staircase, at +Mr. Cottrell, at the invisible persons who still remained +without. He seemed to hesitate, as if in doubt whether or not to +take a hand in the game just where he was; then, arriving at a +sudden resolution, he did as the lady requested: he went +upstairs, followed by the retort which Mr. Cottrell had found at +last.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Perhaps if you were to try a little of that medicine you +recommend on your own account it mightn't do you any harm."</p> + +<p class="normal">The observation went unheeded. Mr. Luker was captured by the +lady the moment he reached the topmost stair. She pointed to the +flight in front.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Up you go!" Up he went, with her at his heels. On the next +landing she called his attention to the open bedroom door. "In +you go." Perceiving what the apartment was he favoured her with +what he perhaps meant for a whimsical glance, and in he went. +"Go straight through into the next room--that's my boudoir." He +went straight through, and she also. Closing the door of her +bedroom she stood with her back to it, putting to him a question +almost as if she were aiming a pistol at his head. "Have you +brought that money?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Luker did not at once give her the answer she so +imperatively demanded. Instead, holding his ancient top-hat in +front of him as if it were some precious possession, he ventured +on a remark of his own.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Things seem a little at sixes and sevens; they almost suggest +that domestic relations are a trifle strained. That man who +calls himself a butler is not behaving as if he were a butler; +and I regret to notice something about the establishment which +one hardly expects to find in a lady's high-class mansion."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Cottrell's going--at once. All the servants are going--lot of +drunken brutes! I'm only waiting for the money to pay them their +wages."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh, I see. And--those other persons on the doorstep, do they +want money also?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't know who's there, and I don't care; but I daresay every +one wants money. I do! Did you hear me ask if you've brought +that money I told you to bring?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"To what money are you alluding?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You know very well! None of your fooling! Have you brought that +ten thousand pounds?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ten thousand pounds!" He held up his hands, with his top-hat +between them. "Ten thousand pounds! She speaks of that great sum +as if it were a mere nothing!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Have you brought it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I certainly have not."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then what have you brought?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have brought--nothing."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Look here, Luker, I'm in an ugly temper. You ought to know the +signs of it as well as any man, so I advise you to take care. I +told you you were to bring me ten thousand pounds. When I said +it I meant it; why haven't you brought it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"My dear Isabel----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Haven't I told you not to call me that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Very well; it's a matter of utter indifference to me what I +call you--utter! I was merely about to remark that I have laid +your proposition before my friend, and, as I anticipated, he has +decided that he doesn't care to lend money except on adequate +security."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Adequate security! Don't you call a quarter of a million +adequate security?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Certainly, if you had it, but you haven't. And you have nothing +tangible to show that you ever will have, or any part of it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"There are those Hardwood Company shares--ten thousand of them."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You tell me that you are in an ugly temper, and I can perceive +for myself that you are not so calm as I should wish, otherwise +I should ask for permission to be quite frank with you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You had better be frank! Never you mind about my temper; it +won't be improved by your shuffling. Out with what you've got to +say!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Remember, it will only be said at your express invitation."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you hear? Out with it!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then briefly and plainly it's this: If you were anybody else +it's possible that money--some money--might be got on your +expectation of the Hardwood Company's shares, but, as things +are, it's out of the question."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why? What's the matter with my being me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"A good deal, as you're as well aware as I am. In a matter of +this sort it's character which tells, and, unfortunately--I say +it with deep sorrow!--your character's against you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's my character got to do with a thing of this kind?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Everything. Suppose my friend were to advance you money upon +your expectation of these shares, from your point of view you'd +have him between your finger and thumb, and you'd keep him +there."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How do you make that out?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"The process of extracting compensation from Messrs. McTavish & +Brown would be, at best, both a lengthy and a tiresome one, one, +moreover, in which not a step could be taken without your active +assistance. You'd find that out, and you'd say, 'If you won't +let me have so much more I won't move a finger, then you'll lose +all that you've advanced already'. And you'd mould your conduct +on those lines to the bitter end--my friend might find it a very +bitter end. That would not suit him at all."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You----! I've half a mind to kill you!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Keep it at half a mind; many of my friends and clients have +found it wiser to stop right there."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then do you mean to tell me that I can't get money out of any +one--anyhow?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not at all; money can always be obtained upon security. You +have personal property--the furniture of this house, jewels, and +so on."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What I might get out of that sort of thing would be gone before +I got it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then you might get money out of Messrs. McTavish & Brown."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You've told me over and over again that it would take no +end of a time to do that. I can't wait; I want money--a lot of +it!--now."</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's such a thing as compromise."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Compromise? What do you mean?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you insist on receiving the full amount of your demand, no +doubt Messrs. McTavish & Brown will keep you waiting as long as +they can--if you ever succeed in getting it at all. But, +supposing you agree to accept half----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Or three-quarters."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Or three-quarters. The major sum might be mentioned first; but, +if time is of importance, I should advise you to allow yourself +to be persuaded to accept half, or even a trifle less, and to +give a full quittance for all claims, on condition, say, that +the amount agreed upon is paid within four-and-twenty hours."</p> + +<p class="normal">"They shall pay it!--I'll see to that! And then when I've got it +I'll go at 'em for the rest."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ahem! I cannot allow myself to be associated with any such +scheme as that."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Can't you? We'll see! You stop where you are. I'll dress, and +then you shall go with me to Messrs. McTavish & Brown as my +legal adviser! and when I leave them I'll be richer than when I +started, or they'll be sorry!" Mrs. Lamb passed into her +bedroom, through the partially open door of which her voice +proceeded: "Don't you go meddling with any of the things in +there; I know exactly what there is, so don't you think I don't. +If I suspected you of taking so much as a paper-knife, I'd have +it out of you if I had to strip every rag of clothing off you to +get at it."</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_25" href="#div1Ref_25">CHAPTER XXV</a></h2> + +<h3>ALARUMS AND EXCURSIONS</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">Messrs. McTavish & Brown, solicitors, of Southampton Row, +London, W.C., had a large, sound and lucrative family +connection. They numbered among their clients several people of +really excellent position, persons whose names ought to have +been in the <i>Doomsday Book</i>, and were in Burke's <i>Landed +Gentry</i>, and in various other places in which one would +desire one's name to be found. Among those names was that of +Dykes--Lady Julia Dykes, relict of Sir Eastman Dykes, third +baronet of Fennington Park, Essex. Sir Eastman had himself been +one of the firm's clients, one whom they had every reason to +value highly. His testamentary dispositions had been of such a +kind that the administration of his estate had practically been +left in the hands of Messrs. McTavish & Brown until the coming +of age of his eldest son. A handsome income had been left to his +well-beloved wife, together with the nominal guardianship of +everything which once was his; actually, however, she did +nothing of the slightest importance except with the cognisance +and approval of the gentlemen in Southampton Row.</p> + +<p class="normal">Lady Dykes was a lady of a certain age, and of almost more than +a certain presence. She was one of those persons who are +constitutionally prone to lean--metaphorically!--upon some one +or something, and she leaned upon Messrs. McTavish & Brown +rather more than they altogether cared for. She consulted them +not only every week, but sometimes on each day of the week; +often on matters which had no connection with the law, and had +nothing to do with them either.</p> + +<p class="normal">She had been known to ask their advice on the question of the +retention or dismissal of a cook. On one memorable occasion she +had actually written to them to learn if they thought that it +would be becoming for her to attend a drawing-room in a scarlet +satin gown. To make the matter worse, that letter was addressed +to Mr. McTavish in person. As it was a standing joke with Mr. +Brown, who allowed himself an indecorous latitude in matters of +real importance, that her ladyship had matrimonial designs upon +that well-seasoned bachelor, it was a painful moment to Mr. +McTavish when he learned that she requested his advice upon +what, to his thinking, was a matter of such singular delicacy.</p> + +<p class="normal">On the afternoon on which Mrs. Gregory Lamb set out with Mr. +Luker to visit Messrs. McTavish & Brown, Lady Dykes was paying +one of her very numerous visits to her solicitors. She was +closeted with both partners in Mr. McTavish's private room, the +senior partner having insisted on summoning the junior to take +part in the inevitable conference, he having an almost morbid +disinclination to be left alone with her. McTavish had an +uncomfortable feeling, however much he might try to hide the +fact from Brown, that her ladyship was disposed to show herself +much more friendly when he had no one to keep him in +countenance. Had they dared, both men would have made it a +general rule to put her off on to one of their managing clerks, +but they had learned from experience that though the soul of +generosity she was quick to take offence, and, therefore, if she +would talk nonsense, all they could do was to make her pay for +it--which they did.</p> + +<p class="normal">The time had arrived for her eldest hope, Eastman, to take up +his residence at the university. On the present occasion she had +called to renew, for the fiftieth time, the interminable +discussion as to what was the exact annual amount he was to be +allowed while there, and what exactly he was to do with it.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am particularly anxious," she explained, as she had done over +and over and over again (some ladies think that the more they +repeat themselves the more emphatic they become--which is a +mistake), "that he should not waste his money, and worse than +waste his money, on what I cannot but consider, and every mother +would consider--every mother who cares for her child (and how +many mothers do!)--extremely undesirable connections. For +instance"--she started on a little story which her legal +advisers had heard from her lips more than a dozen times--"Mrs. +Adams was telling me only a few weeks ago that her second son, +Bernard, who is at Cambridge, at Caius College, or Trinity, or +Keble, or St. John's--it's one or the other--I'm not sure which, +though I know he's in some part of the building"--she always +spoke of a university as if it consisted of one large +building, though she must have known better--"has been +lavishing--positively lavishing!--articles of various kinds, +gifts, presents of every description, from bon-bons to gloves, +and from shoes to ribbons, and I don't know what else beside--it +seems he kept a list of them, I don't know why, and she found +it--it made me dizzy to hear her merely read it through, it was +that long!--upon, of all creatures in the world--it seems +inconceivable, for I've known the boy from a baby, and so did +Sir Eastman--but it was a young woman in a tobacconist's shop. +Picture what his mother's feelings were; picture what mine would +be if I made a similar discovery. If there is one rule to which +I have adhered through life it is to allow no one connected with +me to have anything to do with females of questionable +antecedents. And a tobacconist shop! Am I not right?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She looked directly at Mr. McTavish, who coughed, and answered--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Certainly, Lady Dykes; quite right".</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Brown said nothing; he looked the more.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You yourselves, although of the opposite sex, know perfectly +well how necessary it is to have such a rule. You would not have +built up this great business were it not universally known that +you invariably refuse to accept as clients persons--especially +when they are of the feminine gender--who are not of the highest +respectability. I myself should not be here at the present +moment were I not assured that was the case--of course that you +understand. You would no more allow a woman of a certain class +to enter your private office, Mr. McTavish, than I should allow +a navvy to enter my drawing-room."</p> + +<p class="normal">It was perhaps a trifle unfortunate that Mrs. Gregory Lamb, +attended by Mr. Isaac Luker, should have chosen that particular +moment to introduce herself into the premises of Messrs. +McTavish & Brown. On the road Mr. Luker had endeavoured to +persuade the lady to leave the negotiations as much as possible +in his hands, a suggestion which she had repudiated with scorn.</p> + +<p class="normal">"If any one can play this sort of game better than I can, I've +never met them. All you have to do is to chime in when I tell +you. If I fail to jockey some coin out of them somehow, then it +will be time for you to try your hand."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am not so sure of that. It occurs to me as at least possible +that if you fail it won't be worth any one's while to take a +hand."</p> + +<p class="normal">It was not in consonance with the lady's plan of campaign to +resort, throughout the entire proceedings, to any of the minor +civilities of life. For instance she deemed it neither necessary +nor advisable to announce her presence by knocking at the outer +door. She simply swung it right back on to its hinges, and +strode straight in, not with the lightest strides. In the outer +office it was customary for visitors to mention who it was they +wished to see, possibly, also, the nature of their business, and +then wait in patience till it was intimated to them that they +were at liberty to penetrate farther. No such formula was likely +to suit Mrs. Lamb, for one reason if for no other. She was well +aware that if the heads of the firm had their way nothing would +induce them to suffer her to enter their presence. Indeed so +soon as the clerks in the outer office recognised who it was, +one of them, starting up, prepared to rush to his principals to +warn them of her coming. But the lady was too quick for him. +While he was already half-way through the farther door, the +lady, catching him by the shoulder, swung him round in a fashion +which was a sufficient testimony to the fact that her arm still +retained at least a good deal of its pristine vigour. Before he +had a chance to recover she was in the apartment which was +reserved as a sanctum for the senior clerks, her appearance +causing a sensation among those respectable elderly gentlemen, +which was both ludicrous and surprising. The senior engrossing +clerk, Mr. Riseley, was the only one among them who retained +even a fragment of presence of mind. He endeavoured to interpose +his person between the lady and the approach to Mr. McTavish's +private sitting-room.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Lamb, what is the meaning of this behaviour? Such conduct +is not to be endured; I must ask you to leave this room at +once!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Get out of the way," was the only answer which Mrs. Lamb +vouchsafed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I shall do nothing of the kind--certainly not; my duty to my +employers forbids it. You can see neither Mr. McTavish nor Mr. +Brown, they--they are both of them most particularly engaged."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Lamb condescended to waste no more words on him. He was +rather larger than the other clerk, so she used both arms, +darting them out in front of her as if they were battering-rams, +dashing her half-open palms against him with such force as to +drive him against a neighbouring table, overturning both it and +its proper occupant with a clatter on to the ground. Then she +went rushing into the senior partner's holy of holies as if she +had been some mad bull, crying "Come along, Luker," as she +rushed.</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Luker went along, not quite so demonstratively as she did, +still, considering his build and the difference in his methods, +he managed pretty well. Yet he did not move fast enough for his +energetic client. As he was coming through the door, seizing him +by the arm, she gave it a jerk which sent him whirling half +across the room and his hat flying into a corner. The instant +she was in she slammed the door behind her, snapped the lock, +and pocketed the key.</p> + +<p class="normal">As Lady Dykes had just been dwelling on her consciousness of the +fact that under no consideration whatever would Messrs. McTavish +& Brown allow doubtful female persons to set foot inside their +offices, it was rather an unfortunate moment for her to make her +entry. So both the partners decidedly seemed to think. As for +Lady Dykes, she started from her chair with as much agility as +her figure would permit, and stared at the intruder open-eyed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Good gracious!" she exclaimed. "Who is this person? and what +does she want?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Brown, having his wits about him, made for the second door +(most lawyers have at least two entrances to their own +particular preserves), observing as he moved--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Lady Dykes, might I ask you to----"</p> + +<p class="normal">He got no farther; Mrs. Lamb cut him short. Her wits were even +more on the alert than his. Perceiving, on the instant, his +objective, dashing after him, pushing him aside as if he were +some insignificant thing, she gained the second door, banged it +to, locked it, and pocketed that key also. Then, turning, she +confronted her victims with a laugh which did not by any means +ring pleasantly in their ears.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It seems as if I had arrived in the very nick of time. I +couldn't have bagged the pair of you more neatly if I'd had an +appointment with you--could I?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Lady Dykes, who was the most nervous of her sex, was trembling +almost as if she were a species of human jelly-fish.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Dear! dear!" she gasped. "Who is this person? and what does she +want? Make her open the door at once, and let me out! My footman +will be wondering what has become of me."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Lamb favoured her with an answer--of a kind.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll tell you who I am. I'm one of their clients! I'm one of +the helpless, ignorant women whom they've robbed and plundered, +but before all's finished they'll find that I'm not so helpless +and ignorant as they thought. And I'll tell you what I want: I +want back some of the money they've stolen, and before anybody +leaves this room I'll have it. I've stood their shuffling long +enough, but I won't stand it any longer, as I'm here to show +them."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Brown, who still seemed to have most control over his +tongue, addressed himself to Mr. Luker.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mr. Luker, I believe you are a fully admitted solicitor. As +such I call on you to notice that Mrs. Lamb's words are +actionable. And I request you, unless you wish to get yourself +and her into serious trouble, to insist on her opening the two +doors which she has improperly locked, and on her leaving these +premises at once. Surely it is not necessary for me to point out +that, otherwise, the consequences to both of you will be of the +gravest possible kind."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Lamb placed herself in front of the irate Mr. Brown.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't you waste your breath talking to Mr. Luker; he's not on +in this scene--not just at present, anyhow. If you've anything +to say, you say it to me; it's me you have to deal with, not +him."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Lamb, I will have nothing to do with you of any sort or +kind; after the monstrous fashion in which you have behaved it +is the sheerest absurdity to suppose that we can have any +communication with you except through a properly accredited +representative."</p> + +<p class="normal">"So I've behaved in a monstrous fashion, have I? I'll teach you +to talk to me like that."</p> + +<p class="normal">She began the lesson then and there. Gripping him by both +shoulders she shook him as a terrier shakes a rat. He was a +slightly built man, not physically strong; had he been a rat he +could scarcely have seemed more helpless in her hands. When, +presumably, she was of opinion that the first lesson had lasted +long enough, she honoured him with a few remarks.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You take from me everything on which you can lay your claws; +you strip me of every shilling I possess; and then, when I ask +for some of it back, you insult me. You--dirty--thief!" Here +there was another bout of shaking. "There are men doing penal +servitude who aren't half such mean, sneaking scamps as you +are--and plenty of them."</p> + +<p class="normal">She flung him from her against the wall, leaving him to struggle +for breath as best he might. Lady Dykes, in an armchair, was +developing what promised to be a very fine attack of hysterics. +She was beginning to make as much noise as Mrs. Lamb herself. +Mr. McTavish, who, judging from his appearance, had been in +imminent peril of a stroke of apoplexy, seemed all at once to +regain his power of speech.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Upon my word, you're--you're--you're the most dangerous woman I +ever heard of!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"And you're the most dangerous thief! Perhaps before I've done +with you you'll find that thieving's almost as dangerous to +yourself as to those on whom you practise."</p> + +<p class="normal">There came a smart rapping on one of the doors, and a voice from +without.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Shall we send for a policeman, sir?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"By all means!--at once! Let him break down the door if he can't +get in any other way! This--this woman's--positively dangerous."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're right there; I am--you've made me dangerous. And don't +you think that a policeman, or ten policemen, will keep me from +being even with you if I once get started; not all the policemen +in London couldn't do it!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Luker, seemingly under the impression that his client was +going a little too far, even for her, ventured on an +interposition.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Pardon me, Mrs. Lamb, but, if you will allow me to say so, I +think this matter can be settled on a perfectly peaceful basis. +If these gentlemen are disposed to be reasonable, and I feel +sure they are, everything can be arranged without unpleasantness +of any sort or kind. The point is----"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Lamb took the words out of his mouth, substituting, that +is, words of her own.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The point is, that, among other things, you've robbed me of ten +thousand Hardwood Company's shares."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's an infamous falsehood! We've done nothing of the kind!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Haven't you? I know you have, and so do you; but you're one of +those brazen-faced old sinners who would go to the gallows with +a lie on your lips. Those shares are worth fifty thousand +pounds, and more; but as you've robbed me of every penny I have +in the world, and left me with nothing but starvation staring me +in the face----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's--it's incredible how any one should dare to say such +things!--incredible!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"So there's nothing left for me but to try to come to terms with +the robbers, and that's what I have come for. If you'll give me +a cheque for forty thousand pounds--now!--this minute!--you may +keep the other ten, and much good may it do you. So just you +move yourself. Sit down at that table and write me a cheque for +forty thousand pounds."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Forty thousand pounds! Do you suppose----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I suppose nothing. You do as I tell you, or you'll be sorry."</p> + +<p class="normal">Again Mr. Luker ventured on an interposition.</p> + +<p class="normal">"If, once more, you will excuse me, Mrs. Lamb, if you will +permit me I will point out to Mr. McTavish how much more than +moderate you are disposed to be in your demands. I have Mrs. +Lamb's permission to inform you, Mr. McTavish, that she is in +absolute want of ready cash; that she is practically in a state +of destitution; and that therefore she is willing to waive her +lawful claims to such an extent that she is prepared to accept +the sum of five-and-twenty thousand pounds; a fair proportion to +be paid at once, and the balance on a given date; and to give +you in exchange a discharge in full for all her claims against +you respecting the Hardwood Company's shares."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Lamb's manner, as she acquiesced in her solicitor's +modification of her terms, was not precisely gracious.</p> + +<p class="normal">"If I take twenty-five thousand pounds that will be going +halves. If I am to be robbed I suppose I may as well be properly +robbed; but I'll have at least ten thousand pounds in cash. So, +now, Mr. McTavish, without any more fuss, perhaps you'll let me +have a cheque for that ten thousand."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ten thousand pounds! I'll not give you a cheque for tenpence."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're two men, and I'm only a woman, but you'll find that I'm +much more than a match for the pair of you; and if you're not +careful I'll thrash you both till within an inch of your lives; +I'll leave marks on you which you'll carry to your graves. As +for you, you bloated old whisky barrel, I've only got to give +you one or two smart ones in the proper place, and you'll be in +your grave before you think. So if you want to keep on living, +you'll make no more bones about handing me that cheque."</p> + +<p class="normal">"This--this is worse than highway robbery! In my own office +you--you positively threaten----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Threaten! I'll do more than threaten! Quick! Are you going to +fork up or am I to break every bone in your body?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I--I--I will not be bullied----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Bullied! I'll show you!" She snatched up a stout malacca cane +which stood by Mr. McTavish's table, and which was that +gentleman's property. "To start with, I'll splinter this over +your bodies, then I'll smash everything else in the place, and +you into the bargain. Now is it going to be the coin or----"</p> + +<p class="normal">The hand holding the stick went up into the air, the gesture +rounding off the sentence with sufficient significance.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You wicked woman! how dare you threaten me with my own stick? +Help! Where is that policeman?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Policeman! Do you think I care for a policeman? Not that much!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Down came the stick with a swishing sound through the air. As it +descended Mr. Luker caught the lady by the wrist.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Lamb, I do implore you to pause a moment for +consideration. I reiterate my conviction that if you will only +exercise a little patience this matter can be settled amicably +and without violence."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Luker, if you don't want to let yourself in for a little +handling on your own account you'll let go of my wrist."</p> + +<p class="normal">"On the contrary, Mr. Luker, I beg you will keep a tight +hold--the woman must be stark mad."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mad!" With a sudden twist Mrs. Lamb wrenched herself loose from +Mr. Luker, and that same moment there was a smart rapping at the +door, and an authoritative voice was heard without.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm a police constable. What's going on in there? Open this +door at once."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Break it open, constable, break it open. I'm Mr. McTavish, and +I authorise you. We're--we're in actual danger of our lives."</p> + +<p class="normal">There must have been some one on the other side who knew how to +deal with a locked door, for in a surprisingly short space of +time it was open. A constable was revealed, supported by a +considerable body of clerks, of all ages, in the background. The +representative of law and order advanced into the room.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's taking place in here?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm Mr. McTavish, officer, the senior partner in this firm. +This--this woman has been endeavouring to extract money by means +of threats. I must request you to eject her from these premises +at once."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you charge her?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not at this moment, though, no doubt, later proceedings will be +taken which will bring home to her a sense of her misconduct. At +present all I want you to do is to turn her out."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And this woman also?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The allusion was to Lady Dykes. Mr. McTavish was shocked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Dear me, no; that is Lady Dykes, of Fennington Park, one of our +most esteemed clients, who has already been subjected to the +most terrible annoyance. The man"--pointing to Mr. Luker--"you +will turn out with the woman."</p> + +<p class="normal">The constable touched Mr. Luker on the arm.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now, sir, offer the lady a good example, and show her the way +out."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Luker put his hat on, and, without a word, prepared to act +on the officer's advice. Mrs. Lamb caught him by the shoulder.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You cur! Don't be a fool, Luker, and do as he tells you."</p> + +<p class="normal">The constable smiled, good-humouredly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you're a wise man, sir, you will do as I tell you, and +you'll talk the matter over with the lady afterwards."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Luker seemed to incline to the opinion that the policeman's +was the voice of wisdom. Withdrawing himself from the lady's +detaining fingers, still without a word, he left the room. The +constable addressed himself to Mrs. Lamb.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now, madam, we policemen hate to have to be rude to a lady; +might I ask you to oblige me by following your friend's very +excellent example? That's the way out."</p> + +<p class="normal">He jerked his thumb towards the open door. Mrs. Lamb looked at +him and at the others. Apparently what she saw forced her to the +conclusion that what she called "the game" was "up". She brought +Mr. McTavish's malacca cane on to a writing-table with a +resounding thwack.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You couple of thieves! I'll wring your necks for you yet before +I've done!"</p> + +<p class="normal">She dashed the stick upon the floor and went, the clerks +treading on each others' toes in their anxiety to give her as +much room as she required.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_26" href="#div1Ref_26">CHAPTER XXVI</a></h2> + +<h3>SOLICITOR AND CLIENT</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">A pseudo-historical utterance was paraphrased by Mr. Luker when +the lady joined him in the street without.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It may have been magnificent, but it wasn't war."</p> + +<p class="normal">It is possible that Mrs. Lamb knew very little about the charge +at Balaclava. It is certain that she had never heard of the +phrase with which the critical French general has been credited. +And she was in a red-hot temper, so that in any case she was in +no mood to appreciate her legal adviser's recondite allusions. +The lady's own remark was idiomatic in the extreme.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Luker, I'd like to knock your head clean off your shoulders. If +it hadn't been for you I'd have got all the ready I wanted out +of that couple of cripples, or----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Or you'd have been on your road to the lock-up. There's no 'or' +about it; if it hadn't been for me you would have been. My dear +Isabel----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't call me----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"All right; I won't. If I were to call you all that I think you +ought to be called, you mightn't like it. I was merely about to +remark that your methods are too primitive. In London you can't +go into an office and get all the money you want out of a couple +of lawyers, old or young, with the aid of a stick. It can't be +done. If it could be done people would be doing it all day +long."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Can't I?" Mrs. Lamb's tone was grim. "You don't know me yet. +You wait till I get them to myself, either together or singly, +and I'll lay you the National Debt to sixpence that I don't +leave 'em till I've got what I want. I've my own methods, and +I've found them pay me very well up to now."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't doubt your capacity; when I think of where you were and +of where you are I've no reason to. But in dealing with people +like McTavish & Brown, with a strong case like yours, diplomacy +pays better than violence. If you'd left the conduct of the +affair to me I'd have at any rate exacted from them the promise +of a satisfactory sum in settlement of all claims. As it is, +where are you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">He held out his hand, palm uppermost, as if to show that there +was nothing in it. She walked by his side for some little +distance in silence; when she spoke her tone was still grim.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll tell you where I am--I'm with you. And I tell you what it +is--as I couldn't get any money out of them, I'm going to get it +out of you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Are you? I don't see how."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't you? I do."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You can't get blood out of a stone."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No; because there's no blood in a stone. But I can get money +out of you, because you've plenty."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I wish I had."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't you worry; your wish was granted before it was uttered. +I'll show you where some of it is, if you like."</p> + +<p class="normal">In his turn Mr. Luker for a while was still. Then stopping, he +held out his hand.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I wish you good-afternoon, Mrs. Lamb."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You needn't; I'm coming with you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm afraid I have an appointment which will prevent my enjoying +the pleasure of your company any longer."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh no, you haven't. Besides, it will make no difference if you +have--I'm coming with you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are coming with me? What do you mean?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I mean that I'm going to accompany you to your private +residence, Mr. Luker. I want to have a quiet chat with you. I +can have it there better than anywhere else. We shall be snug, +and all by ourselves."</p> + +<p class="normal">He looked at her with his bleared, half-open eyes--he seemed +to be physically incapable of opening them to their full +extent--with an expression which some ladies would not have +considered flattering, nor were his words exactly complimentary.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I would as soon go home with a tigress as with you in your +present mood--indeed, of the two, I think I would prefer the +tigress. I have been in too many tight places to feel inclined +to walk, with my eyes open, into quite such a tight place as +that would be. Once more I have to inform you that I have an +appointment which will prevent my having the pleasure of your +company any farther, so I wish you good-afternoon."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And once more I tell you that I'm coming home with you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh no, you're not."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh yes, I am."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I think you are mistaken."</p> + +<p class="normal">He beckoned to a policeman who happened to be standing by the +kerb at a little distance from where they were.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What do you want with him?" she demanded.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am going to appeal to that officer for protection, and I +don't think you will find that I shall do so in vain. You will +compel people to summon the police--it is extremely unwise."</p> + +<p class="normal">The constable was sauntering towards them. Recognising, +apparently, that there was logic in what Mr. Luker said, +without waiting for the policeman to approach, also without +going through the empty formula of wishing the solicitor +good-afternoon, she marched off and left Mr. Luker alone. When she +had gone, perhaps, a hundred yards, she stopped and looked back. +Mr. Luker, who was still where she had left him, was seemingly +enjoying a little friendly converse with the constable. She +continued her progress for, possibly, another hundred yards, and +then again looked back. This time Mr. Luker had vanished. She +could distinguish the stalwart figure of the constable striding +along in solitary state in the distance. She signalled to a +hansom. "Stamford Street, Blackfriars Bridge end," was the +direction she gave the driver. When the vehicle had brought her +to the point she desired, descending, she dismissed it. She +stood for two or three minutes, scanning the passers-by, keenly +observing, so far as she was able, every one in sight. Then, +turning into Stamford Street, she presently turned again into a +street on her right. She was coming into a very shady +neighbourhood, in which one opined that women of her appearance +were very occasional visitants. She twisted and turned, however, +with the unerring rapidity of one who knew it uncommonly well, +until at last she found herself in what was rather an alley than +a street, and a cul-de-sac at that, for at the end was nothing +but a high blank wall. Here the tenements were not only +extremely small, apparently consisting of five or six rooms at +most, they were also of disreputable appearance. Pausing in +front of one she regarded it with an attentive eye. The fact +that the blinds were down gave it a deserted look. She knocked +once, twice--there was no bell. When no one answered she drew a +conclusion of her own.</p> + +<p class="normal">"He's not come yet; I'll wait."</p> + +<p class="normal">She did wait, for a good half-hour, with exemplary patience, in +spite of the fact that long before the period of waiting was at +an end she had become an object of much interest to a large +number of curious eyes. Just as the observers were beginning to +wonder how long she did intend to stop, the object of her +flattering quest came into sight, in the shape of the legal +gentleman from whom she had so lately parted--Mr. Isaac Luker. +Contrary to her hopes and expectations he was not alone; once +more her wily old friend had proved equal to the needs of the +occasion. On either side of him were men whose character, or, +rather, want of character, was written large all over them--two +more unmistakable ruffians one would have to go far to see. At +sight of her Mr. Luker came to a standstill.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I thought I should find you waiting for me here; your presence +is not at all unexpected. So, as in this neighbourhood the +police are not much protection, and I suspected that I might +stand in need of protection, I brought my two friends here with +me. They think little of putting a woman of your sort into the +river, as gentlemen of their profession generally do, so I'll +leave them to deal with you after the mode with which they are +most familiar."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is this 'er?" inquired one of the friends, a beetle-browed +person, with an open gash running right down his filthy cheek.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's her, my good friend. You talk to her, in any way you +please, while I go inside."</p> + +<p class="normal">As he produced his latch-key Mrs. Lamb moved towards him in a +forlorn-hope sort of spirit.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Let me come in! There's something which I must say to you."</p> + +<p class="normal">Without giving her a hint of his intention the beetle-browed +person struck her with his clenched fist on the shoulder in such +fashion that, had she not lurched against the wall, Mrs. Lamb +would have gone headlong to the ground. Mr. Luker stood to +comment on the action.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's right, my friend; that's how she likes to talk to +others."</p> + +<p class="normal">He disappeared into the house; they heard him locking and +bolting the door. The beetle-browed person placed himself in +unpleasant proximity to Mrs. Lamb; his manner was, if possible, +even more eloquent than his words.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now then, are you going to take yourself off, or have we got to +move you? Make up your mind, because our time's valuable."</p> + +<p class="normal">She made up her mind, there and then. Realising that she was +doomed to still another disappointment, she took herself off, +with Mr. Luker's two "friends" at her heels. When she was back +again into Stamford Street she stopped and spoke to them.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There are police here, as, if you try to follow me another +step, you'll find."</p> + +<p class="normal">"We don't want to follow you--not much! We only want to keep you +off the governor, that's all. You can go where you like, and you +can do what you like, but if you come near his crib again we'll +mark you."</p> + +<p class="normal">Hailing another hansom Mrs. Lamb left Mr. Luker's two "friends" +standing on the pavement.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_27" href="#div1Ref_27">CHAPTER XXVII</a></h2> + +<h3>PURE ETHER</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">At the house in Connaught Square Mrs. Lamb had to knock and ring +four times without, apparently, attracting the attention of any +one inside. She was meditating gaining admittance through the +area door, when a fifth assault upon the bell and knocker was +productive of a more definite result. After a good deal of what +seemed unnecessary fumbling with the handle, the door was opened +sufficiently wide to admit of Cottrell, the butler, being seen +within. He was attired in the same extremely undignified costume +in which he had greeted his mistress in the morning, which, +however, showed certain signs of what might be called +degeneration. The shirt-front was, if possible, more crumpled +than before; the collar was gone; the waistcoat had, in some +mysterious way, strayed out of the straight, so that while it +was on one side of his body the shirt was on the other; his hair +was rumpled; the whole man looked as if a plentiful application +of cold, clean water might do him a great deal of good.</p> + +<p class="normal">He held the door just wide enough open to enable him to display +his person and to see who was there, seeming to be not at all +abashed when he perceived that it was his mistress.</p> + +<p class="normal">"So it's you, is it! So you've come at last; it's about time; +we thought you never were coming. I hope you've brought some +money--everybody hopes so. It's no good your coming into this +house if you haven't--not the least."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Lamb was in a bad temper, which, perhaps, on the whole was +not surprising. She had been in a bad temper when she had +started to visit Messrs. McTavish & Brown. The incidents which +had marked the afternoon had not tended to sweeten it. On the +contrary, for quite a time she had been looking for somebody on +whom, to use an expressive euphemism, she might "let herself +go". Had Mr. Cottrell been aware of the lady's state of mind, +even in his then peculiar condition, he might have realised that +there are occasions on which discretion is the better part of +valour. He would certainly hardly have afforded her not only so +excellent an opportunity of giving expression to her feelings, +but also so capital an occasion of making her quarrel just. She +looked at Mr. Cottrell with something in her eyes which should +in itself have been sufficient to serve as a warning; there was +still time for him to perform a strategic retreat. Without a +word she went quickly up the steps, flung the door wide open, +seized him by the shoulders, and sent him spinning into the +street. He sat, for some moments, on the kerb, as if overcome. +Then, exceeding rash, he retraced his way up the steps as best +he could, with the apparent intention of inquiring why he had +been handled in such unceremonious fashion. Before, however, he +had gained the actual summit, he went flying backwards, with the +lady's assistance, in such summary fashion that it was only the +back of his head being brought into contact with the pavement +that stopped him.</p> + +<p class="normal">When he understood, dimly, what had happened, he began to raise +an agreeable hullabaloo, mingling imprecations on all and +sundry, with curses on the lady in particular, and cries of help +to the public and the police. Mrs. Lamb, for the third time that +day, was brought into contact with a constable. A policeman +appearing round the corner, perceiving Mr. Cottrell +gesticulating on the pavement, came sauntering up to learn what +was wrong. The butler explained.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I give her into custody, that's what I do!--tried to murder me, +that's what she's done!--broken my brains out!--assault and +battery, that's what it is; and that's what I charge her with, +policeman. You put the handcuffs on her, and take her to the +station, and I'll come round and give all the evidence that's +wanted."</p> + +<p class="normal">The officer was calmer than Mr. Cottrell. He heard the butler to +an end, then he glanced at his mistress.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's wrong?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She explained.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That man's my butler, although you would not think it to look +at him. He has taken advantage of my absence to get into that +condition. He kept me waiting for more than twenty minutes on +the doorstep, and then when he opened he was not only drunk but +insolent. I have dismissed him from my service, and put him into +the street, and out in the street he stops. I should be obliged +by your moving him away, and preventing his making a disturbance +in front of the house."</p> + +<p class="normal">The policeman, who was young, leaped to the conclusion that +right was on the side of the lady. He was disposed to give the +butler but a short shrift.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now, then, move on! Away you go! We don't want any of your +nonsense here!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Cottrell vehemently objected.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't talk to me like that, policeman! She owes me three +months' wages; there's another nearly due, and another instead +of notice. You let her pay me five months' wages before she +talks of putting me out into the street."</p> + +<p class="normal">The policeman looked up at the lady.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is what he says true?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's an entire falsehood. Any claim he may have to make must be +made in the proper quarter."</p> + +<p class="normal">She threw the door wide open. By now other members of the +household had, unwisely enough, come up to see what the +discussion was about. Her action revealed them.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You see, officer, here are some more of my servants. They, +also, have taken advantage of my absence, and are like that +man--drunk. I dismiss them all--now. Perhaps you won't mind +coming in and seeing their boxes packed; I suspect them of +having property of mine in their possession."</p> + +<p class="normal">The policeman went in--Mr. Cottrell went in also, with his +assistance; he saw their boxes packed. It was a process in which +the packers fared badly, the butler in particular. Each servant +in the house, almost without exception, was shown to be in +possession of property which was indisputably Mrs. Lamb's. Their +mistress' attitude was one of magnanimity. She declined to +prefer a charge against them, at any rate just then, whatever +she might do later. Though, of course, under the circumstances, +to pay them anything in the shape of wages was altogether out of +the question. All she wanted to do was to see their backs. And +she saw them. A shamefaced, miserable, draggle-tailed crew they +looked, as, one after the other, under the policeman's cold +official glance, they took their boxes out into the street. Then +Mrs. Lamb presented that zealous young officer with a sovereign. +He made short work of clearing the debris away from the front.</p> + +<p class="normal">So Mrs. Lamb was left alone in that great mansion without a +servant to wait on her of any sort or kind.</p> + +<p class="normal">She went into the boudoir; that and her bedroom, and indeed the +whole house, was exactly in the same condition in which she had +found it in the morning. It seemed as if no one had moved a +finger to put anything in order. Removing her hat, she sat down +and tried to think. The result was a failure. Her thoughts would +not travel on the lines she wished; they would launch out in +undesirable directions. She had scarcely been there a minute +before she began to become conscious of an unpleasant feeling +that she was not alone, when, all the time, she knew she was. An +odd, morbid obsession began to overpower her, as, directly she +was alone, it had shown an uncomfortable aptitude to do of late. +Putting her hands up to her eyes she rubbed them with her palms, +as if she were endeavouring to rub something away from them. +Then, removing her hands again, she looked about her, queerly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of course it's ridiculous, and I suppose the real explanation +is that I'm not so well as I ought to be; but it's funny how I'm +always seeming to be back in his room, and how plainly I can see +it all; and the bed--the bed." There was a rigid expression on +her face which it was not agreeable to observe, as she herself +seemed to understand. Standing up she gave herself a little +shake, as if she were trying to shake something from off her. +"This won't do--it won't do. It's not healthy. And yet there's +something which I ought to look at--to see; to understand. It's +something in the room. It's not the bed--not only the bed; it's +something else. I wish I could think what it was; I wish I could +understand; then perhaps it might go."</p> + +<p class="normal">The overturned decanter which had been on the buhl table in the +morning was still there. She picked it up, holding it up to the +light. It was empty. She went to what seemed to be a buhl +liqueur case which stood on the floor in a corner. It was +locked. She went to her bedroom to look for the key. It was not +in its usual place.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I can't think where I put it; those brutes can't have had it. I +had it myself last night, I know. Where did I put it? I can't +wait to think--I can't wait; besides it doesn't matter. Anything +will do to open it."</p> + +<p class="normal">She took a polished brass poker. With it she made a hole in the +lid of the case large enough to enable her to insert her +fingers. Then, with her hands, she tore the lid away--a +sufficiently easy task, since the wood proved to be less than an +eighth of an inch in thickness. The case contained six bottles. +She took out one; it was labelled "Pure Ether--Poison". +Withdrawing the stopper, paying no attention to the statement on +the label, she poured out nearly a wineglassful, which she +instantly swallowed, coupling with it, as it were, a somewhat +gruesome sentiment. "Here's to Isaac Luker! I wish he was in +reach; I'd like to kill him."</p> + +<p class="normal">Scarcely were the words out of her lips than the door opened to +admit her husband. He stared at her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Belle, there doesn't seem to be a servant in the place--not a +creature. Where are they all off to? What's it mean?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She replied to his question with another.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Gregory, doesn't there seem to you to be something singular +about this bedroom?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Bedroom? It's not a bedroom; it's a boudoir. What do you mean? +Belle, what's the matter with the house? What have you got in +your hand? What are you drinking?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Lamb was looking round her in a fashion which induced her +husband to draw back, as if in doubt.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Have you ever seen it before--anywhere? Isn't there something +strange about it?--especially the bed?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Lamb seemed to be of opinion that his wife's manner was +distinctly disagreeable; apparently he did not know what to make +of it.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Bed?--what bed? There's no bed here. You're--you're not well. +Don't talk like that; you make me go all over creeps. I say, +Belle, I do wish you'd give me some coin--if it's only a tenner. +I'm broke to the wide."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Gregory!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Come here; I want to speak to you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Thank you, I'm awfully sorry, but I've got an appointment with +a man; I can't stop. About that money--Belle! now, what's up?"</p> + +<p class="normal">With a swift, unexpected movement, interposing herself between +him and the door, his wife had slipped her arm through his, and +was looking at him with something in her big black eyes which +made him more uncomfortable than he would have cared to admit. +Considering the bold, ringing, almost blusterous tones in which +she was wont to speak, there was something unpleasantly +significant in the half-whisper in which she addressed him now.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Gregory, you must stop--you mustn't go. There's something which +I wish to say to you--a great deal which I wish to say to you, +and I must say it to you now--here"--her voice sank still +lower--"in Cuthbert Grahame's bedroom."</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_28" href="#div1Ref_28">CHAPTER XXVIII</a></h2> + +<h3>MR. LAMB IN A COMMUNICATIVE MOOD</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">In the evening of that day Margaret Wallace and Harry Talfourd +dined with Dr. Twelves. The young lady, who throughout the day +had remained in a curious mood, was indisposed to avail herself +of the doctor's hospitality; but she was over-persuaded by the +doctor, who was insistent, and by Mr. Talfourd, who was on his +side. Throughout the day they had talked and talked and talked. +Harry was of opinion that, on a certain theme, they had talked +too much. There was something about Margaret which was new to +him; which he did not understand. It troubled him. So when the +doctor changed the subject by asking them to dine with him he +accepted, for himself, at once; and when Margaret hummed and +hawed, and began to make excuses, for her also. He told her that +she would have to dine with the doctor--and she had to. The two +men bore her off with them in triumph.</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor entertained his guests at the Holborn Restaurant. In +his youth he had known the place when it was a dancing-hall; had +visited it while undergoing various transformations during his +recurrent trips to town, and, whenever he came to London, made a +point of patronising it still. The meal was hardly a jovial one. +The host and Harry did all they could to keep the conversation +on impersonal and frivolous lines, but Margaret would have none +of it. She could scarcely be induced to open her lips to put +food between them; talk she would not. The colloquial gifts for +which she was famous seemed to have deserted her entirely; she +was tongue-tied. When, in a dinner party of three, the lady, who +is both young and charming, cannot be persuaded to speak, the +meal is apt to prove but a qualified success. The doctor's +little festive gathering turned out to be not quite so festive +as it might have been.</p> + +<p class="normal">As chance, or fate, had it, the two men's well-meant efforts to +keep the conversation in exhilarating channels were doomed to +meet with complete fiasco. After the meal was finished, as they +strolled along Holborn, enjoying the fine evening, considering +whether to take a cab, and if so, where to tell the cabman to +take them to--for the doctor was firm in his conviction that +this was an occasion on which they were bound to make a night of +it--the issue was taken out of their hands in a wholly +unexpected fashion. A gentleman, who did not seem to be so +capable of seeing where he was going as he ought to have been, +all but cannoned against Mr. Talfourd, drawing back to apologise +just in time.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Beg pardon! Why, it's Talfourd! Hollo, Talfourd! who's the +lady? and who's----" The speaker was staring at the doctor. +"Hollo! I've seen you somewhere before!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor was returning him look for look.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And I've seen you. You're Mr. Gregory Lamb, who lodged one +time at David Blair's over the other side of Pitmuir, to +whom I was foolish enough to loan a brace of sovereigns, for +four-and-twenty hours, as I understood, but which you've never +paid me back unto this day."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Lamb was not at all abashed; he never was by reminders of +that kind--they were legion.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why, of course, it's the doctor--the cranky old doctor. I +remember you quite well. How are you, old chap? You haven't--you +haven't a brace of sovereigns on you now?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have not a brace which you are likely to be able to bag, Mr. +Lamb. I understand that you have married since I saw you last."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Since you saw me! I was married then."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Indeed? But I gathered that you had since married the widow of +an old friend of mine--Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Widow? She wasn't his widow; she never was his wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Pardon me, but she went through the Scotch form of marriage +with him in my presence."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That was all her dashed impudence. She was my wife long before +that; before she ever knew that he was in the world. Doctor, my +wife's a devil of a woman, and she's been treating me in a devil +of a way. If I were to tell you all that she's been doing, so +far as I can understand, mind you--it's quite between +ourselves--you'd go straight to a police station, and you'd +ask for a warrant; but I'm her husband, so I can't. Listen to +me--this is between ourselves--if you'll come to a place I know, +and where they know me--most respectable place--and do me the +pleasure of having a drink with me--and Talfourd, and the +lady--never leave out a lady when it's a question of a little +refreshment--I'll tell you what she's just been telling me, not +five minutes ago. It'll surprise you. Good as confessed to +committing murder; half expected her to murder me--give you my +word it's a fact. Come and have a little something and I'll tell +you all about it--between ourselves, you know."</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor exchanged glances with Mr. Talfourd and with +Margaret.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It seems to me, Mr. Lamb, that you've had more than a little +something already."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're wrong, old chap--quite wrong; do assure you. It's +ether--beastly ether."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ether?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ever heard of the stuff before? I never did. Seems she lives +on it; takes it in quarts. She crammed some of it down my +throat--fairly took me by the throat and crammed it down. I'm +like a child in her hands--give you my word. She's a devil of a +woman. Never tasted anything like it before; seems to have sent +me stark staring mad. Don't know whether I'm standing on my head +or heels. Let's go and have some Christian liquor, and I'll tell +you all about it."</p> + +<p class="normal">Again the doctor exchanged glances with his companions.</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you'll allow me to offer you a seat in my cab I'll take you +to a friend who'll be able to give you some of the finest whisky +in England, and there, at your leisure, you can tell us all +about it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"My dear old chap, when they called you cranky I always said +that there was more in you than they might think, and I stand to +it to the present moment. I say----"</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor did not wait to hear what he said; he bundled him +into a four-wheeled cab after Margaret and Harry. When the cab +had started Margaret asked--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Where are you taking us?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am taking you to my friend, Andrew McTavish, who has a +commodious residence in Mecklenburg Square--just handy. There, +over a glass of whisky, Mr. Lamb will be able to tell us just +what his wife told him. He'll find us interested listeners."</p> + +<p class="normal">There was a dryness in the doctor's tone which was lost upon the +gentleman at his side, who occupied the short distance they had +to traverse by protestations of the regard he had always felt +for the old acquaintance whom fortune, or destiny, had again +thrown across his path.</p> + +<p class="normal">That night Mr. Brown was his partner's guest at dinner. Both +gentlemen were still smarting from the outrage to which Mrs. +Gregory Lamb had subjected them that afternoon. Dinner was +finished; they were in the library, planning schemes of +vengeance, when the servant announced that Dr. Twelves was +outside, and was desirous of seeing Mr. McTavish. Before the +servant was able to explain that the visitor was not alone, the +doctor himself marched in with his retinue. The partners rose +from their chairs in surprise.</p> + +<p class="normal">"McTavish--Brown--I have the honour to introduce you to Miss +Margaret Wallace, a young lady of whom you have heard a good +deal, and whom I am sure you'll be delighted to know. This is +Mr. Harry Talfourd, of whom you may have also heard something. +And this, gentlemen--this is Mr. Gregory Lamb, the husband of +the lady of whom, I fancy, you have perhaps heard rather too +much."</p> + +<p class="normal">If the look upon the partners' faces meant anything, there could +be no doubt upon the latter point. Both Mr. McTavish and Mr. +Brown stared at Mr. Lamb as if he were not only the strangest, +but also the most unwelcome, object they had ever beheld. Then +Mr. McTavish turned to the doctor, with a gasp.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'd have you to know, Dr. Twelves, that you're taking a great +liberty. You're presuming on our friendship in venturing to +bring this individual to my house, and at this time of night. +Brown, I'll trouble you to ring the bell. Mr. Lamb shall be +shown to the door, before we have him behaving as his wife did +this afternoon."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. McTavish had become rubicund with agitation; the doctor +remained placid.</p> + +<p class="normal">"In less than five minutes, Andrew, you'll be acknowledging that +I've done you a very considerable service in bringing Mr. Lamb +to this house, and you'll be begging my pardon for the remarks +which you have just made."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Brown, obedient to his partner's request, had rung the bell. +A servant appeared. Him Dr. Twelves addressed before Mr. +McTavish had a chance of speaking.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You'll have the goodness to bring a decanter of whisky, and the +other necessaries, at once."</p> + +<p class="normal">When the man looked at his master for an endorsement of this +order the doctor explained.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Andrew, Mr. Lamb has a communication to make which I think you +will find of interest; he proposes to make it while enjoying a +glass of prime whisky."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I cannot imagine what Mr. Lamb has to say which can be of +interest to me, but, since you wish it--John, bring the whisky."</p> + +<p class="normal">A decanter being placed upon a table, the doctor prepared a +potent mixture which he handed to Mr. Lamb.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I think, Mr. Lamb, I understood you to say that Mrs. Lamb was +married to you before she met Cuthbert Grahame?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of course she was--ever so long. She was never his wife; that +was only her bluff. This is something like whisky. Gentlemen, +your very good health, and the lady's--never overlook a lady."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You perceive, Andrew, that Mrs. Lamb was already Mrs. Lamb when +she encountered your late client, Mr. Cuthbert Grahame, and, +therefore, any document in which she is described as his wife +is, I believe, on the face of it, null and void."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. McTavish made as if about to speak, but a movement of the +doctor's left eyelid seemed to act as a check. The doctor turned +to Mr. Lamb, grimly affable.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You like this whisky, Mr. Lamb?" Judging from the fact that +that gentleman had already emptied his tumbler it seemed as if +he did. "Allow me to fill your glass." The speaker suited the +action to the word; he did very nearly fill the glass with neat +spirit. "From what you said I should imagine that you have +recently had rather a singular scene with your wife, Mr. Lamb. +You were about to tell us what occurred. Was it anything very +remarkable?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should think it was remarkable. Your very good health, +gentlemen. After the stuff she forced down my throat this is +something like whisky; ether she forced down my throat--rank +poison. Why, do you know she sees things--actually sees +things--give you my word--makes your blood cold to hear her +talking. She made out we were in a bedroom--Cuthbert Grahame's +bedroom she called it; it was only the boudoir. She talked +about the things which were in it just as if they were in it, +when of course they were nothing of the kind--just the ordinary +furniture! 'You see that bed?' she said. Of course I didn't; +there wasn't a bed to see; not even the ghost of a bed. 'That's +Cuthbert Grahame lying in it. You see how he's propped up by +pillows?' The idea of such a thing in a boudoir! 'Now I'm going +to pull away those pillows from under his head.' She actually +pretended to be pulling at pillows, or something--positive fact! +'Now,' she said, 'you see how his head's fallen? You hear what a +noise he makes in trying to breathe? He's choking. I've only got +to leave him like that for a time and he'll be dead. He almost +choked to death when a pillow slipped the other day, so I know.' +Quite serious she was all the time--frightfully serious; made me +all over creeps to hear her--give you my word."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do we understand you to tell us that she said, 'Now I'm going +to pull away those pillows from under his head,' and that then, +in pantomime, she went through the action of pulling them?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Certainly; that's just what she did do--just exactly. Then she +pretended to drop them on to the floor, and talked about the +noise he made in trying to breathe. Awful!--really awful!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Was that all she said? or did?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should think not; there were all sorts of things; she kept on +for a devil of a time. But I can't remember just what they were +just now--strange how you do forget things. Oh yes! there was +one thing--I remember one thing!--most extraordinary thing. She +said, 'You see that fireplace'. Of course there wasn't a +fireplace; she was standing right back in front of a window. +Absurd! But she saw it--stake my life she saw it--you could +tell. 'There's something about that fireplace which I ought to +see, but I can't think what it is; something which I ought to +understand, but I can't. If I only could!' You never heard +anything like the way she said it; you never heard anything more +impressive on the stage--positive fact! 'You see those two +wooden posts,' she went on. Of course I saw nothing of the kind, +because, as I've told you, there was nothing to see--I don't see +things. 'Those two pillar things, I mean, which have been carved +out of the woodwork of the mantelpiece, one on either side, just +near the bottom. Do you know, Gregory, I believe that there's +something about those two posts which I ought to see, which I +ought to understand! But I can't! I can't!' Give you my word +that she began to cry; twisted her hands together and went on +like anything--actually. Seemed so silly! 'I believe,' she +cried,' that if I could only see, if I could only understand, I +should know where Cuthbert Grahame's money is, that I should +find the quarter of a million which is lost.'"</p> + +<p class="normal">As Mr. Lamb gave a dramatic imitation of his wife's manner, +which, considering all the circumstances, was not so bad, +Margaret, who hitherto had remained in the background, came to +the front with a question.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Are you sure she said that there was something about those two +posts which--if she saw, if she understood it--would make known +to her where Cuthbert Grahame's money was?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Lamb had something of an aggrieved air as he replied.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Am I sure? Of course I'm sure; I shouldn't say she said it if I +wasn't sure. My statements are absolutely to be relied upon, +Miss Whoever-you-are."</p> + +<p class="normal">The doctor glanced from Mr. Lamb to Margaret.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's he mean, or what's she mean about two wooden posts? It's +all double Dutch to me; I don't understand in the least. Is it +any plainer to you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I think that it is all quite plain to me; that I can understand +what she doesn't; that I can see what she can't." Her voice +sank. Although she spoke gently her tones, to adopt Mr. Lamb's +word, were most "impressive". "I believe that, unwittingly, she +has delivered herself into my hands; that the duel which she and +I are fighting has advanced another stage; that soon we shall be +exchanging shots; and that then there will be but one of us two +left to tell how it all fell out."</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_29" href="#div1Ref_29">CHAPTER XXIX</a></h2> + +<h3>MARGARET PAYS A CALL</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">The next morning, between eleven o'clock and noon, Margaret went +out visiting. She had paid much attention to her costume, more +than she was wont to do. Her mind travelled back to the day on +which she had been repulsed from Cuthbert Grahame's door; she +endeavoured to recall what on that occasion she had worn. Women +have a mnemonic system of their own; with them clothes and +events are inseparably associated. They recall one by a +reference to the other. Miss Wallace had no difficulty in +recollecting precisely what garments she had worn; she had even +a fair perception of how she had looked in them. She made it her +immediate purpose to look again as much as possible as she had +looked then. Almost providentially, as it seemed, the dress +itself was still in existence, hidden away at the bottom of a +box. She had never worn it since. First, because, although cheap +enough, it was fashioned of very delicate material, and the hot +water which had been poured upon her had blotched it here and +there with stains which she had found it impossible to attempt +to conceal. Then it was connected with an episode which, +whenever she saw it, would instantly recur. The recurrence +afforded her no pleasure. As, after excavating it, she surveyed +its many creases, she meditated.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It almost looks as if, from the first, I had preserved it with +a particular end in view, with the intention of producing it, +when the mathematical moment arrived, as what the French call a +<i>pičce de conviction</i>. It's ages behind the fashion, but that +will only serve to impress its significance more forcibly on +her."</p> + +<p class="normal">She contrived something in the way of head-gear which was +reminiscent of the hat she had worn that day. Her nimble fingers +reproduced the various trifles which in a woman's attire are of +such capital importance; she even dressed her hair in a fashion +which was obsolete. When, fully costumed, she surveyed herself +in a looking-glass, it seemed to her that the results were most +surprising.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Wonderful how the modes do change! It is not so many years ago, +and I am sure that then I was up-to-date; but now I look as if I +had come out of the ark; I might be in fancy-dress. I shall have +to take a cab; I should never dare to walk through the streets +like this; they'd take me for a guy. When Mrs. Gregory Lamb sees +me, if she's still in anything like the state of mind which that +charming husband of hers described last night, it won't be +wonderful if she takes me for a ghost."</p> + +<p class="normal">She put in a portfolio certain drawings which she had risen at a +very matutinal hour to make; the portfolio she placed beneath +her arm, and, thus equipped, she sallied forth upon her errand. +The street in which she had her lodging being of modest +pretensions, was but little frequented by cabs. She had a five +minutes' walk before she found one. And during that short +promenade she was the object of so much attention, especially +from the females as she passed, that she was glad when, seated +in a hansom, she was at least partially concealed by the +friendly apron.</p> + +<p class="normal">She found the door of Mrs. Lamb's residence in Connaught Square +wide open. On the steps stood a shabbily dressed man, with his +hands in his trouser pockets, an ancient bowler pressed tightly +down upon his head, and a clay pipe between his lips. When +Margaret addressed him he moved neither his hat, nor himself, +nor his pipe.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is Mrs. Lamb in?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"From what the governor told me I shouldn't be surprised but +what she's gone back to bed."</p> + +<p class="normal">Margaret considered the man's words. His manner was not exactly +rude, it was peculiar.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Which is her bedroom?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's more than I can tell you. I ain't been upstairs myself. +I've got a bad leg, and ain't too fond of going up and down +stairs, especially when there ain't no need of it. But you'll +find it somewhere that way, I expect."</p> + +<p class="normal">"May I ask who you are?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Me?" Taking his pipe out, the man drew the back of his hand +across his lips. "I'm representing the landlord; that's what I +am."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Representing the landlord? Do you mean that you're a bailiff?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"A bailiff--that's it! I'm in possession; three quarters' +rent--nearly four. My governor was only just in time. Seems +there's a bill of sale on the furniture. They came up with their +vans as my governor was going over the place; wanted to clear +everything out, they did. Of course my governor soon put a +stopper on that. There was a bit of a talk. I shouldn't be +surprised if they was to pay my governor out. It's a queer +business from what I hear."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Please let me pass, I want to see Mrs. Lamb."</p> + +<p class="normal">The man drew well back into the house.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Certainly; any lady can see Mrs. Lamb for what I care. I expect +you'll find her somewhere about upstairs."</p> + +<p class="normal">As she ascended the staircase Miss Wallace indulged in inward +comments.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The house looked very different the night before last; nobody +would have guessed then that the shadow of ruin was already +hovering over it. She must be a curious person to give a party +to all that crowd of people when she knew that at any hour the +brokers might be in for rent. And to talk of financing Harry's +play! and paying him three hundred a year for doing nothing! But +then she is a curious person. The house looks as if nothing had +been touched in it since Mrs. Lamb's reception came to a +premature conclusion--it smells like it too. What have we here? +What a state of things!"</p> + +<p class="normal">She glanced into the drawing-rooms, which remained in a state of +amazing confusion. Mounting to the floor above she found herself +confronted by two closed doors.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I wonder if one of these is her bedroom. I'll try this."</p> + +<p class="normal">She turned the handle of the door which was directly in front of +her, softly, and walked right in. It was the lady's bedroom, and +the lady was in bed. Margaret had entered so quietly that +apparently not the slightest sound had informed the mistress of +the house that any one was there. The girl stood still.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Pah! what an atmosphere! I'd sooner have every pane of glass +broken than breathe air like this. I shouldn't think the windows +have been open for days." She glanced at the bed. "Is she +asleep?--at this hour?--with the broker's man downstairs?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Laying her portfolio on a small table, she moved closer to the +bed. Its occupant continued motionless. The girl, leaning +forward, touched her, lightly, on the shoulder. Still no sign of +life. The girl exchanged the light touch for a sudden, vigorous +grip, giving the shoulder a wrench which must have roused the +soundest sleeper. The woman started up in bed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Luker! is that you?" she cried.</p> + +<p class="normal">When freshly roused from slumber, she saw who it was; her first +impression seemed to be that she was still the victim of some +haunting dream. Speechless, she stared at the girl, drawing +farther and farther back the longer she stared. Her whole +frame--her pose, her limbs, the muscles of her face--seemed to +become rigid, set, as if she were afflicted by some new and +awful form of tetanus. She appeared to be incapable of twitching +a lip or of moving an eyelid. Even when Margaret spoke she +persisted in her fixed and dreadful glare, as if she were some +unpleasant statue.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am Margaret Wallace--as you are aware. I am she whom you +drove from Cuthbert Grahame's door, pretending you were Nannie +Foreshaw. These are the clothes I was wearing when you drove me +away with lies and with hot water. See--here are the stains of +that hot water still. Your sin has found you out; judgment is +pronounced; your punishment has already begun. Between you and +me it is a duel to the death. It is your choice, not mine, but +since you have forced it on me, I will fight you to the end, and +I shall win. I know all about you--who you are, what you've +done. I know that you were already a wife when you pretended to +marry Cuthbert Grahame; that you committed bigamy. I know that +you got that will from him by means of a trick. I know that so +soon as you had got it you murdered him. You snatched the +pillows from under his head--see! like that!" She caught up the +two pillows which lay upon the bolster and dropped them on the +floor. "Can't you hear the noise he makes in trying to breathe? +He's choking. You've only to leave him like that for a little +while, and he'll be dead. And you left him! I know--I know."</p> + +<p class="normal">The woman listened to the hot, eager words which streamed from +the girl's lips as if the speaker were some supernatural +visitor, and the accusations were being hurled at her from on +high; and still she never moved a muscle, she even seemed to +cease to breathe.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You see!--we are in Cuthbert Grahame's bedroom, you and I. I +know it as well as you do--better--and you know it very well. +You'll never forget it--never!--to the last moment of your life. +There is the mantelpiece; it is made of wood--carved wood. It is +old; old as the house itself; beautifully carved. You see there +are two wooden pillars, one on either side, carved so that they +stand out. You are quite right in supposing that there is +something about them which you ought to see, to understand. I +have come to tell you--to show you--what it is."</p> + +<p class="normal">Taking from her portfolio two drawings she held first one and +then the other in front of the motionless woman.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have made a drawing of the mantelpiece, just as you see it, +and as I see it, and as it is. Is it not like it? Here are the +two side-posts; but here"--exchanging one drawing for the +other--"is only one of them. That is a picture of the pillar +which is on the left-hand side of the mantelpiece as you stand +in front of it--you will remember, on the left-hand side. I have +written down an exact description of it in case you should +forget, because there is only one thing which you will never +forget, and that is on the bed. Look closely at the drawing; it +represents the pillar exactly. This long, slender part, which +runs from here to here, is called the shaft. You hold it with +both hands, or, as you are very strong, you will perhaps be +able to manage with one, and you turn it right round in its +socket--completely round. It will probably be a little stiff, as +it has not been touched for so long; but you'll find that you'll +be able to make it move. This narrow piece at the top is called +the neck. After you have turned the column you pull it to the +left. It slides in two grooves. It may be a little stiff, like +the column, but if you push, or pull, hard enough, and long +enough, it will yield. This still narrower piece near the foot +of the column, just above the plinth--the plinth in the bottom +of a column is called the <i>torus</i>, or the <i>tore</i> (<i>torus</i> +is a Latin word which architects use, and it just means +swelling)--when you have turned the pillar, and slipped the +neck, you get as firm a grip on the top of the torus as you can, +give a smart jerk, and it will fall over on a hinge. Have you +ever read <i>The Arabian Nights?</i> You don't look as if you had +read anything. If you haven't, you never will; you'll never have +a chance. But I suppose you've heard of Ali Baba and the Forty +Thieves; the cave in which they kept their treasure; the +password, 'Open Sesame,' which caused the cave to open. All +these manœuvres of which I have been telling you--turning the +shaft, sliding the neck, pulling forward the torus--are the +'Open Sesame' which will lead you to the place where the +treasure is--greater treasure than was in the cave of the forty +thieves. These performances which you will have gone through +will have unlocked, unbolted and unbarred. All that remains is +that you slide that whole side of the mantelpiece to the left. +You'll have no difficulty. Behind you'll discover a cupboard, +deep though narrow, going far back into the wall, with shelves +laden with treasures. On those shelves is the quarter of a +million of money--I daresay more--which once was Cuthbert +Grahame's, waiting for some one to carry it away! Here are the +two drawings which are the key to the riddle. I present them to +you freely. They were made specially for you. Although the +broker's man is in for rent, and the bill of sale men clamour at +the door, and you are penniless, and ruin stares you in the +face--ruin utter and complete--though your need of it's so +great, you'll not get that money which is hidden in the +mantelpiece--you'll not dare! you'll not dare! Because the bed +still stands in the room--you can see it now!--the bed on which +you murdered Cuthbert Grahame; and Cuthbert Grahame still lies +on it--you can see him too!--waiting and watching for you to +return to where you threw the pillows on the floor--waiting and +watching for you. You'll not dare go back into that room again, +because in it the dead hand is waiting to grip you by the +throat. And after to-morrow it will be too late--Cuthbert +Grahame's money will be there no longer. Here are the drawings. +I will leave them with you, as I said. You will be able to study +them at your leisure, conscious of who is looking over your +shoulder."</p> + +<p class="normal">Margaret laid the drawings on the coverlet. With her portfolio +again beneath her arm she quitted the room, as noiselessly as +she had entered. All the time Mrs. Gregory Lamb had not moved or +spoken a word.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_30" href="#div1Ref_30">CHAPTER XXX</a></h2> + +<h3>MRS. LAMB IN SEARCH OF ADVICE</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">On the evening of that same day, at the door of Mr. Isaac +Luker's little house in that <i>cul-de-sac</i> near Stamford Street, +some one knocked, in a rather unusual manner, as if after a +prescribed fashion, then whistled half-a-dozen sharp, shrill +notes up the scale. This performance was repeated thrice before +anything happened to show that it had attracted attention +within. Then a window was opened above; the solicitor's head +came out.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who's there?"</p> + +<p class="normal">A feminine voice replied--</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's me--Isabel. I want to speak to you. Don't keep me waiting +out here. Come down! let me in at once."</p> + +<p class="normal">There was a brief pause before the answer came, as if the man of +law was endeavouring to see as much of his visitor as he could.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not much--I won't have you in this house; don't you think it; +I'm not a fool. If you won't go without a fuss I'll soon get +those who'll shift you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are a fool. I don't want money from you, or anything of +that kind. I want to tell you something--that's all."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then tell it me from where you are; I'm listening."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Lamb's voice dropped, so that her words were only just +audible to the man above.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Cuthbert Grahame's money's found."</p> + +<p class="normal">Another pause, possibly of doubt.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is that a lie?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll swear it isn't; it's as true as I stand here."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Where is it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's in his house"</p> + +<p class="normal">"His house? What house? I didn't know he'd got a house."</p> + +<p class="normal">"His house at Pitmuir--where I met him--where he died."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How do you know it's there?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll tell you all about it if you'll let me in."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You'll tell me before I let you in."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Margaret Wallace--that girl--you know--she came this morning +and told me it was there."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't believe it. Why should she, of all people, come and +tell you a thing like that? Tell that for a tale."</p> + +<p class="normal">"She did; I swear she did. The money's there--I know just +where--a quarter of a million at least."</p> + +<p class="normal">"A quarter of a million?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"At least! If I was there I'd have it in my hands inside two +minutes. I'm as sure of it as I am that I'm alive. Don't be +silly; let me in, and let's talk where we can be alone. I'm on +the square--I swear it. I don't want anything from you; I just +want your advice--that's all."</p> + +<p class="normal">There was another pause.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Lamb, I've got a telephone installed in these premises. +I'm going to telephone to a friend that you're here; I'm going +to ask him to step round in a few minutes. If, when he comes, +you've been making trouble, there'll be trouble for you--you'll +be the sorriest woman that ever lived. I give you my word; when +I give you my word on a point like that you know it goes. You +wait there until I'm ready."</p> + +<p class="normal">The head was withdrawn; the window closed; the lady waited, +impatiently enough. Her patience was sufficiently tried. It +seemed to her that she waited an hour; she certainly did wait +twenty minutes. More than once she was on the point of sounding +a loud rat-a-tat on the knocker by way of a little reminder. It +was only with an effort she restrained herself, being conscious +that possibly Mr. Luker's decision still hung in the balance, +and that it needed but little to turn the balance against her. +She had just arrived at a final conclusion that he had played +her false, or, at any rate, intended to ignore her existence, +when the door was opened, on the chain.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I've telephoned to my friend; he's coming; so, if you're in an +argumentative frame of mind, you'd better take my strong advice +and stay outside. No argument will be allowed in here."</p> + +<p class="normal">It seemed to Mrs. Lamb that the wary Mr. Luker was carrying his +wariness almost a trifle too far. She was unable to altogether +conceal that this was her feeling.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Bless the man! I don't want to argue! I just want to explain +exactly how the matter stands. When you've opened that door +you'll find that I mean just what I say, neither more nor less."</p> + +<p class="normal">"My friend, when he arrives, will see that you don't mean more; +you can take my word for that. Come inside!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Luker removed the chain; the lady entered; he led the way to +a room on the ground floor at the back. It was much better +furnished than the exterior of the house, and its occupant's +appearance, might have led one to expect. A telephone, on its +bracket against the wall, was one of the most prominent objects +the room contained. Mr. Luker called her attention to its +presence.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You see? I'm not so much alone here as you might think; I'm in +constant communication with my friend; and as he'll be here very +shortly, perhaps you'll say what you have to say as quickly as +you can."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It'd have been said already, if you hadn't kept me cooling my +heels outside while you were playing the fool in here with your +telephone."</p> + +<p class="normal">As clearly and succinctly as possible--she could keep to the +point when she liked--Mrs. Lamb told her tale, exhibiting +Margaret's drawings, partly by way of corroboration and partly +to elucidate certain points which needed explanation.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And you believe it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Believe that the money's inside that mantelpiece? I'm as +certain of it as I am that I see you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What makes you so sure?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"His will was hidden in one corner of the room. All along I've +felt sure that there were more hiding-places in it than one. I +shouldn't be surprised if there were half a dozen. It's just the +kind of room, and he's just the kind of man. As for the +mantelpiece, I've been bothered all along by a feeling that +there was something about it which I ought to understand, and +didn't. Now I know what it is. Cuthbert Grahame's money's there +as certainly as you are here. I tell you he was just the sort of +curiosity--he wasn't a man when I knew him!--who might be +expected to play a trick like that."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But why should the girl come and tell you the tale when it was +to her advantage to keep it dark--especially from you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's more than I can say. I know she's a white-faced little +devil, and that I hate her. I lay she didn't do it out of any +love for me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That, I think, we may take for granted--which makes the puzzle +more. It looks to me as if she expects you to walk headlong into +a trap which she has carefully baited."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Curse her traps! What do I care for her traps? She can't set +one which will catch me. The money's there, and the money's +mine--and I'll get it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then get it. It will be useful to you just now, even if there's +less than a quarter of a million."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Useful!--my God!--useful!" Stretching out her arms on +either side, she drew a long breath. "But, Luker--that's the +mischief!--it's in his room; the one in which he died."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well; you've told me that already--what of it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What of it? Why!"--she laughed; there was something in the +sound of her laughter which caused him to bunch himself +together, as if touched by a sudden chill--"I daren't go in it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You daren't go in it? What do you mean? The house is your own, +isn't it? What's there to be afraid of? Who's to keep you out?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's it!--I don't know! I don't know! Luker, there's +something come over me lately; I didn't used to be troubled with +nerves."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You didn't."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I never was afraid of anything--or any one."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You weren't; you've always had the devil's own courage since +you were a girl."</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's been nothing I daren't do."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It would have been better for you, perhaps, if there had been +something; there's such a thing as daring to do too much."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You think so? Perhaps that's it; perhaps I have dared to do too +much."</p> + +<p class="normal">"As to that you know better than I do; I'm not your father +confessor, nor wish to be. The Lord forbid!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't know how it is, but, lately, I've gone all to pieces. +I'm afraid of all sorts of things. When that girl came this +morning I was afraid of her; she frightened me out of my senses. +I thought she was a ghost; I couldn't have moved or spoken to +save my life; I listened to her like a stuck pig. Luker, things +have upset me more than I thought anything could have done. +I'm--I'm all a bundle of nerves."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's that stuff you've been drinking."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Stuff? What stuff?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"When I was at your place yesterday I saw a decanter lying on +the table; some of the contents had been spilled. I dipped my +finger into the stuff and tasted it. It was ether. When women of +your temperament take to drinking ether, that's an end of them."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But I've got to drink it!--I've got to! I never touch it unless +I'm forced! Luker, if I didn't, sometimes, I should go stark, +staring mad."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then you'll go stark, staring mad. Ether's a royal road to +madness for such as you. Better stick to gin."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Gin!--gin's no good; a barrelful would be no good when I'm like +that."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I see--that's the point you've got to." He was eyeing her +intently. "Is there any particular reason why you should be +afraid of going into the room where that man died?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She became instantly conscious of the keenness of his scrutiny, +perceiving that in it there was a new quality. Her manner +changed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Any particular reason? No; there's only the general reason that +I'm all mops and brooms; that I start at shadows. Besides, I'm +going into it, and you're going with me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Am I? That's news."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Luker, if you'll come with me to Pitmuir, and stick to me while +I find Cuthbert Grahame's money, I'll give you five hundred +pounds."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hard cash?--before we start?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I can't do that; you know I can't do that. But, Luker, I'll +give you a thousand when I've found the money. I'll set down my +promise in writing; give you any sort of undertaking you like."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes; but suppose you don't find the money; suppose what that +girl told you is nothing but a cock-and-bull story? I tell you +plainly that I can't make head or tail of the whole business. +I've no faith in the girl, or her story, or her motives. And I'm +pretty sure that she has no intention, under any circumstances +or on any conditions, of presenting you with Cuthbert Grahame's +fortune, or of putting you in the way of getting it for yourself +either."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But I know it's there. I can't explain to you how I know it--I +don't understand myself--but I do. And though it seems queer, at +the back of my head I've known it all the time. Luker, as sure +as you are living, that money's there."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then, in that case, instead of going yourself, why not instruct +some one on the spot to examine the premises on your behalf; to +pull down this famous mantelpiece, or the whole house if +necessary, and report the results to you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who shall I instruct? Before they move they'll perhaps want +money--I expect my position is pretty generally known--and where +am I to find it? In any case, they'll take their own time, and +time is precious. Besides, there are enough fingers meddling in +my affairs already. And who am I to trust? I don't want any one +except myself to know how much I find. To speak of nothing else, +shouldn't I have to pay succession duty if it were known?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I suppose you would. Isabel, you're a curious person; a little +too fond, perhaps, of doing things for yourself; yet, in +delicate matters--in very delicate matters--it's a fault on the +right side. How do you know you can trust me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You and I have seen too much of each other for me not to know +when, and where, and how far I can trust you. I'm not afraid."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're right; you needn't be. I don't think I am likely to +round on you. But, on the other hand, frankly, I'm afraid of +you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nor need you be afraid of me. It's only when I'm upset +that--that I'm trying--that's all."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Even if it is all, it's a pretty big all."</p> + +<p class="normal">"About the thousand pounds. As I said, I'll give you any sort of +bond you like, undertaking, if you stick to me, to pay you the +moment I get the money in my hands. Anyhow you know that you'll +be safe. It's not bad pay for what I'm asking you to do."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't say it is. When do you propose to start?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"To-morrow morning, by the ten o'clock train from King's Cross. +I planned it all out before I came."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's quick work."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It'll have to be quick work. If I don't have money, and plenty +of it, within forty-eight hours, I'm undone."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I understand. By the way, I presume that you're prepared to pay +all out-of-pocket expenses, for both parties, as we go on. For +instance, I shall require you to hand me a return ticket to +wherever we are going before I set foot inside the train. I'm a +poor man, although you sometimes amuse yourself by pretending to +think otherwise, and I, at any rate, can afford to take no +risks."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You shall have your ticket, and I'll pay everything. I've the +money to do it--but it's about as much as I have got."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ah, but by to-morrow, about this time, you'll be more than a +millionaire. I've always understood that that wonderful quarter +of a million of Mr. Grahame's produced, on an average, more than +twenty per cent.; so that if you had a million, averaging a +modest three per cent.--and some millionaires would be glad to +get as much--your income would be less. Then there are the +arrears, which have been accruing! Think of the arrears, Mrs. +Lamb--on a quarter of a million, at twenty per cent.! Now if you +will sit down here, and will give me, on this sheet of paper, +that little undertaking you mentioned, I think that, on my part, +I can undertake to accompany you on your little trip to the +north."</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_31" href="#div1Ref_31">CHAPTER XXXI</a></h2> + +<h3>MRS. LAMB RETURNS TO PITMUIR</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">When Mr. Isaac Luker and his client, Mrs. Gregory Lamb, arrived +at the small roadside station, in the county of Forfar, towards +which they had been journeying throughout the day, they were +neither of them in the best of tempers. It had been a long day's +journey. There had been some misunderstanding about the +connection of the trains at Dundee. They had missed the one by +which they had meant to travel; there had been a dreary wait for +the next. When at last they started on the last stage of their +journey the engine went dawdling along the branch line in a +style which both, in their then frame of mind, found equally +trying. They would hardly, at any time, have been called a +sympathetic couple. Neither, for instance, would have selected +the other as an only companion on a desert island. By the time +the train paused for, so far as they were concerned, its final +stoppage, either would have been almost willing to fly to a +desert island to escape the other's society.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was between nine and ten at night--a misty night. The damp +seemed to be rising out of the ground, and to be covering the +country with a corpse-like pallor. There was a faint movement in +the air, which it did not need a very imaginative mind to +compare to a whisper of death. They were the only passengers who +alighted at the station, which seemed to consist of but a narrow +strip of bare earth, about the centre of which was constructed +what looked like a ramshackle shed. Illumination was given by +two or three oil lamps, and by a lantern which the only visible +official carried in his hand. To this personage Mrs. Lamb +addressed herself.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is any one waiting for me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The official proved to be a Scotsman of a peculiarly Scotch +type; his manners and his temper were both his own. No attempt +is made to reproduce the dialect in which he spoke.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And who might you happen to be?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm Mrs. Gregory Lamb."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Never heard the name. Pass out! Tickets!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Luker nudged the lady's arm.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I thought you telegraphed under the name of Mrs. Cuthbert +Grahame?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She made a somewhat ill-considered attempt to correct the error +she had made.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I mean that I'm Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame? You said just now that you were Mrs. +Gregory Lamb."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I spoke without thinking. I telegraphed some instructions to +the station-master in the name of Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame."</p> + +<p class="normal">"In the name of Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame? A body can't have two +names."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I ordered a close carriage to meet Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame by the +train before this, then, when I found I'd missed it, I sent a +wire from Dundee to order the carriage to wait for the next."</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's no carriage within miles."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No carriage? Then what is there?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's what they call a fly."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And is the fly here?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Sam Harris wouldn't let it come."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who's Sam Harris?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He's the man that owns it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And pray why wouldn't Mr. Harris let it come?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You'd better be asking him instead of me. He lives about two +miles from here--perhaps a trifle over."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Two miles! Then is there nothing here to meet us?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's a cart."</p> + +<p class="normal">"A cart!--an open cart!--in this weather! What kind of cart?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He was outside the gate when I saw him last, but maybe by now +he's grown tired of waiting, and he's gone. If you go outside +you'll be able to see for yourself what kind of cart it is +better than I can tell you. Any way, you can't stop here; I'm +off home. Tickets!--and if you haven't your tickets you'll have +to pay your fare--that's all."</p> + +<p class="normal">The two passengers surrendered their tickets. With such dignity +as she could muster the lady strode towards the little wooden +gate, Mr. Luker following limply behind. He made no attempt to +feign a sense of dignity which he did not possess. To judge from +his appearance and his attitude he had not only sunk into the +lowest stage of depression, but he was willing that all the +world should know it. A very woebegone figure he looked: so tall +and so thin, with the pronounced stoop; in the old familiar +garments which he had worn for so many years in town, a costume +which seemed singularly out of place on that spot just then; the +frayed, shabby frock-coat, tightly buttoned up the front, the +collar of which he now wore turned up about his chin; the +trousers which were at once too baggy and too short; the ancient +top-hat, which had seen so many better days.</p> + +<p class="normal">Outside the gate was what, in the semi-darkness, looked +uncommonly like an ordinary farmer's cart, and not too +comfortable, or cleanly, an example of its class. Mrs. Lamb +stared at it in disgust.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Have you brought that thing for me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">As regards manners the driver seemed to be a near relation of +the railway official's, if anything his were more pronounced.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't know who you are. How am I to know?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame of Pitmuir."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh; that's what you call yourself--ah!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You appear to be an impudent fellow."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And you appear to be a free-spoken woman."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How dare you talk to me like that? I ask you again, have you +brought this thing for me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I've brought this thing, as you call it, which is as decent a +cart as ever you saw, and more decent maybe than you deserve to +sit in, to carry the person as calls herself Mrs. Cuthbert +Grahame to Pitmuir, and I'm beginning to wish I hadn't."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why is there no fly here?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Because Sam Harris wouldn't let his come."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why not? I ordered it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You ordered it! Mr. Harris said that he wasn't going to have +the likes of you sitting in a fly of his--that's why. So he sent +this cart instead. If this cart isn't good enough, I'll take it +back at once. I'll take it back anyhow if there's much more +talking."</p> + +<p class="normal">The lady and her solicitor exchanged glances. While they were +apparently seeking for words the driver volunteered another +remark, in keeping with those which had gone before.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's another thing. I'm to be paid before I started; Mr. +Harris said I was."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You'll be paid when you reach Pitmuir."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Shall I? Then I'll say good-night."</p> + +<p class="normal">The man gathered up his reins as if about to depart.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Stop! What are you doing? You appear to be a pleasant +character."</p> + +<p class="normal">"From all accounts, ma'am, that's more than can be said of you."</p> + +<p class="normal">Under other circumstances the fellow might perhaps have +regretted his temerity. Mrs. Lamb was not a lady to quietly +endure impertinence from any one. As matters stood she was at +his mercy, a fact of which he was evidently aware. She had to +choke back her resentment as best she could.</p> + +<p class="normal">"How much do you mean to charge?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's twelve shillings for driving you; there's three for +waiting; there's five for myself--that's a sovereign."</p> + +<p class="normal">"A sovereign!--monstrous!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Very well; there's no call for you to pay it. I tell you again, +I'll say good-night."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. Luker interposed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"How far is it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Better than five miles."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And how long will it take, in this delectable vehicle of yours, +to get us there?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"An hour or thereabouts. The road's none so good, and it's not +easy going on a night like this. It's thicker over yonder."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And for an hour, or thereabouts, I'm to be jolted, over a bad +road, through this death-like mist. Thank you; the prospect is +not inviting. I think we had better go over in the morning. +Where, in the neighbourhood, can we get a night's lodging?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nowhere."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nowhere? Are you sure?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you think you know better than me you'd better go and look +for yourself. I tell you there's not a house round here where +they'd have you under the roof--nor her either. I wouldn't, nor +yet Mr. Harris, nor any one else."</p> + +<p class="normal">"This is delightful--thoroughly delightful."</p> + +<p class="normal">Anything less suggestive of delight than his tone could hardly +be imagined. The lady spoke.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I telegraphed to an old servant of mine, Martha Blair, to go up +to the house and to take some one with her, or if she couldn't +go herself then to get two other girls to go, to light fires and +to make things ready for my coming. Do you know who has gone?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No one's gone; I do know that. You'd get no woman from round +here to go up to Pitmuir at night, especially if it was known +that you were coming."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Prospects grow more and more delightful."</p> + +<p class="normal">This was a groan from Mr. Luker. The lady, taking him by the +coat sleeve, began to talk to him in an undertone. The driver +promptly interrupted.</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you two are going to talk things over between yourselves you +can do it after I'm gone. I'm off; I've had enough of waiting, +so I'll wish you both good-night."</p> + +<p class="normal">The lady stopped him; she drew out her purse.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Here's a sovereign. Now drive us to Pitmuir, and be as quick as +you can."</p> + +<p class="normal">The man examined the coin as well as he could in such a light; +he even tested its quality with his teeth. Drawing a bag from +some mysterious receptacle inside his waistcoat, he untied a +piece of cord which tied it round the neck, placed the coin +carefully within, feeling it to make sure that it was, retied +the bag, and returned it to its place. These operations took +some time; before they were concluded his two passengers were +more tired of waiting than he was. Mrs. Lamb mounted to the seat +beside the driver. Mr. Luker scrambled into the vehicle itself. +There was nothing for him to do but to squat upon the floor, +making himself as comfortable as he could by leaning his back +against the side. Then the cart started.</p> + +<p class="normal">The driver had been perfectly correct in stating that it was not +a very good road. So far as could be judged in the mist and the +darkness, when one had to rely entirely on the sense of feeling, +it consisted for the most part of ruts and ditches. The springs +upon which the body of the cart was hung were not very +resilient, indeed they were rudimentary. Mrs. Lamb had all she +could do to keep on the seat; the gentleman behind was shaken in +such a style that he had traversed the whole interior of the +vehicle before he had gone two miles. Considering all things, it +was perhaps as well that the rate of progress was not more +rapid, though the driver had a somewhat disconcerting knack when +the road was excruciatingly bad of seeming to move faster than +was absolutely necessary, and when it was comparatively smooth +of going slower than he need. More than once Mrs. Lamb tried to +engage him in conversation, putting questions to him on subjects +on which she was particularly anxious to obtain information. She +desired to know if Nannie Foreshaw was still in the flesh; how +Dr. Twelves was getting on; if he yet practised, and so on. But +the man either paid no heed at all, or, if he replied, his +answers were of such an unsatisfactory nature, conveying such +extremely unflattering allusions, that the lady was finally +convinced that she had better remain, however unwillingly, in +ignorance than attempt to obtain enlightenment from such an +impossible quarter. She would have liked to have taken the +fellow suddenly by the shoulders and flung him out of the cart. +He would possibly have found her capable of doing it. More than +once she was on the point of making the effort, only an +overwhelming consciousness of the greatness of the issue which +was at stake restrained her.</p> + +<p class="normal">At last, after what seemed very much more than an hour's drive, +he brought the vehicle to a sudden stop.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You'll get out here," he intimated to them curtly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Get out?" The lady peered about her through the mist and +darkness. "This is not the house."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yon's Pitmuir."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Pitmuir? But I paid you to drive us to the house; I can see no +signs of it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You did not. I'd not drive you to the house for a pocketful of +money."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What fresh trick are you going to try on now? And what +tomfoolery are you talking?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's tomfoolery maybe, and maybe it isn't. You said, carry you +to Pitmuir, and I've carried you. Do you know they say that +Cuthbert Grahame's walking about among the trees, waiting in the +avenue, looking for the woman who called herself his wife. Do +you think I'll take you to meet him? Not while I've my senses. +If you are set on meeting him, you'll not meet him in my +company--that's my last word. Yon's Pitmuir. That's the gate in +front, not a dozen yards from where we are--that's nearer than I +care for. You'll just both of you get out."</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_32" href="#div1Ref_32">CHAPTER XXXII</a></h2> + +<h3>AT THE GATE</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">Verbal discussion was plainly useless; it was soon made +sufficiently clear that nothing short of physical force would +persuade that driver. Situated as they were it was not easy to +see how they could resort to that method of convincing him of +the error of his ways. Mrs. Lamb told him, with the lucidity of +which under such circumstances she was past mistress, what she +thought of him, and what treatment she would have accorded him +if the conditions had only been a little different. In a tongue +fight the man proved to be her match; he could pack at least as +many disagreeable allusions into a sentence as she could. For +ten minutes or a quarter of an hour they wrangled, then the +driver delivered himself of an ultimatum.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm not going to stay here all night listening to you. If you +won't get down I'll drive you back. Now which is it to be? I'm +off!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Off! Yes, you are off, as I'll soon show you."</p> + +<p class="normal">She showed him there and then. Whirling round on her seat, she +gave the driver a sudden push; over he went on to the road. +Snatching the reins in one hand, the whip in the other, before +he quite knew what had happened, she was urging the horse to +pursue its onward career.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Stop! stop!" he yelled. "I'm under the wheel! You're driving +over me!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then if you don't want me to drive over you, you'll get from +under the wheel; I'm going on."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Are you? I'll teach you, you----!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The fellow's language was full-blooded. Scrambling up as best he +could, he made a vigorous attempt to board the vehicle and expel +her from the seat she had usurped. She was not disposed to +yield. Down came the whip upon his head and shoulders. There +ensued a lively few moments.</p> + +<p class="normal">"When you two have quite finished your little conversation +perhaps you'll let me know," groaned Mr. Luker from the rear.</p> + +<p class="normal">The "little conversation" came to a rapid, and, perhaps on the +whole, not surprising termination. The quadruped between the +shafts, an animal apparently of the cart-horse kind, was, also +apparently, a creature of an extremely patient disposition. But +even the most enduring patience has its limits; that horse +reached the end of his. Mrs. Lamb and the driver were, between +them, tugging at the reins in a fashion to which he was, no +doubt, entirely unaccustomed, while the whip-lash, when it +missed the driver, occasionally alighted on the animal's flanks. +Probably wholly at a loss to understand what was happening, not +unreasonably the creature finally made up his mind that he had +had enough of it, whatever it was. Suddenly the vehicle was set +in motion; both parties persisting in sticking to the reins, and +also, in a sense, to each other, the course steered was of the +most erratic kind. Before the horse had gone very far there was +a lurch which was more ominous than any which had gone before, +and they had been pregnant with meaning; the cart was turned +clean over; the three persons concerned were thrown out of it. +Mr. Luker was the first to give expression to his feelings. +Clinging to the side as the thing went over, he had alighted +with comparative gentleness on the ground.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm alive," he announced. "I don't know if any one else is."</p> + +<p class="normal">It seemed that the lady was in the same, so far as it went, +satisfactory condition.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's not much the matter with me. I'm a bit shaken, and my +clothes are all anyhow; my hat's torn right off my head--but +that doesn't matter."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Where's the driver? Driver, where are you?" There was no +answer. "That extremely civil gentleman seems disposed to be a +little more silent than he was just now. Driver!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It'll serve him right if he's killed. Hollo, I've just stepped +on him; he's lying on the road. Driver!" Still no answer. +"Stunned; lost his senses or something--not that he'd many +senses to lose--cantankerous brute!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's to be hoped that he hasn't lost them for ever, It'll be +awkward for us if he has--especially for you. Your popularity in +this neighbourhood does not appear to be so great that you can +afford to throw any of it away."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Confound my popularity! What do I care if I'm popular? If that +brute is killed he brought it on himself; if I'd wrung his neck +for him it'd have been no more than he deserved. I've got a +lantern in my bag. I knew what sort of a hole, and what sort of +beasts, I was coming to, and guessed that I'd better be prepared +for the worst. If it isn't smashed to splinters I'll light it +and have a look at him--you can see nothing in this darkness."</p> + +<p class="normal">The lantern was not broken. Presently its rays were illuminating +the surrounding gloom. She turned them on to the recumbent +figure, not showing too much sympathy as she did so.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now then--move yourself! Don't pretend you're dead--I know +better." Possibly by way of exhibiting her superior knowledge, +she shook him by the shoulder. He groaned; she chose to +interpret the sound as having a favourable significance. "He's +not dead; he's all right. Broken a bone, or put his shoulder +out, or something. He won't hurt if we leave him here; we could +do nothing for him if we wanted to. Let's see what's happened to +the cart."</p> + +<p class="normal">It was not difficult to do that; the explanation of what had +occurred was almost painfully simple. The horse, influenced by +such eccentric guidance, had conducted the vehicle into a ditch. +The jolt of the sudden descent had loosened one of the wheels; +it lay in one direction, the cart in another. The question as to +whether they were or were not to drive in it up to the house was +finally settled. The horse, seemingly none the worse for his +little experience, making no attempt to get up, reclined at his +ease between the shafts, apparently under the not erroneous +impression that he was as comfortable there as anywhere else. +Mrs. Lamb recognised that, so far as any more riding was +concerned, the fates were against her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"We shall have to walk," she observed. "It's not so very far +from here, along the avenue. Here's the gate."</p> + +<p class="normal">She went to the gate, revealing its whereabouts by the light of +her lantern. Mr. Luker moving towards her, spoke in lowered +tones.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Without wishing to alarm you unnecessarily, or endorsing your +coachman's remarks about Mr. Cuthbert Grahrame's singular +habits, I may tell you that my impression is that if he isn't +walking about among the trees, somebody is."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Luker, don't talk like that! Don't be a fool."</p> + +<p class="normal">"If I weren't a fool I doubt if I should be here with you now; +but, apart from that, I can only inform you that for some time I +have had a suspicion that our movements were being observed by +some one among the trees, who can see us better than we could +see him, and who was taking a lively interest in all that was +occurring."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Luker, how do you know? How could you tell?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"By the sense of sound; I wasn't so absorbed in fighting the +driver. That some one, or something, has been moving among the +trees, keeping pace with us as we went, I'll swear, and I don't +think it was an animal."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Speak plainly; what do you mean?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I think it possible that you and I are the objects of a +conspiracy--especially you. Every step you take you are walking +farther and farther into the trap which Miss Margaret Wallace +has set for you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't talk rubbish! Have you got that old bee in your bonnet +again? I'm not afraid of Miss Margaret Wallace."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Aren't you? Then that's all right, because I fancy that her +agents are about you on every side."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Her agents? What do you mean by her agents?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I imagine that Miss Margaret Wallace is more popular in this +part of the world than you are. I can put two and two together. +From what I've seen, and heard, since our arrival, I shouldn't +be surprised to learn that she has nobbled every creature in +the neighbourhood. The station-master has received a hint from +her--that explains the peculiarity of his manner; nothing else +could. That poor wretch lying on the ground has been acting on +her instructions. Don't you make any mistake; I'm sure of it. +I'm equally sure that other friends of hers are waiting for you +in there."</p> + +<p class="normal">He pointed over the gate, along the avenue. His words, far from +causing her alarm, seemed to act as a fillip.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Friends of hers upon my property!--if they dare! Do you +think that I'm afraid of what you call her friends?--of any +number of them?--of the tricks they've set themselves to play? +I'd like to see them; I'd like to meet them. This is my +property--mine!--every stick and stone on it! Neither Margaret +Wallace nor any one else has a right to set foot upon it without +my sanction. If I do find any trespassers I promise you that it +won't be me who'll come off worst. Are you coming? You +understand, if you're to earn that thousand pounds you're to +stick to me through thick and thin--to the end! If you show the +white feather, the bond is cancelled."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Are you going to accept the invitation of the spider to the +fly? You intend to walk into the trap?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Trap! Do you think that any trap was ever set that could catch +me? I believe you're talking the purest piffle; but if there is +a trap, and I do walk into it, it'll be to smash it all to +pieces. Once more, are you coming?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh, I'm coming. I'll do my best to earn the thousand, though +I'm beginning to perceive that it wants more earning than I +supposed. Lead on; where you lead I'll not only follow, I'll +keep as close to your side as circumstances permit."</p> + +<p class="normal">She threw the gate wide open. It swung back on its rusty hinges +with a harsh, creaking sound. Then they entered the avenue, the +lantern swinging in her hand.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_33" href="#div1Ref_33">CHAPTER XXXIII</a></h2> + +<h3>AT THE DOOR</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">Between the trees the darkness was as if you might have cut it. +Where the lantern looked there were momentary revelations as +they strode along. Its rays seemed to cut pieces out of the +surrounding gloom. But the pieces were small. Its penetrating +power was slight; where its penetration ceased the darkness was +blacker than before. The silence which prevailed had its own +peculiar property; it served to exaggerate the slightest +disturbance. Their very footsteps were differentiated with an +almost morbid clearness. The firm, resolute descent of the +woman's foot, the loose, indeterminate shuffle of the man's; the +sounds seemed to set themselves against each other and to ring +through the trees. They gradually became conscious of the +movements of unseen creatures among the grasses and the herbage, +disturbed by their approach. Once she observed, as she swung the +lantern to one side--</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's a rabbit. There used to be thousands of them when I was +here. I expect there are more now. I daresay the whole place is +overrun with them."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It may be a rabbit, though, with due deference to your superior +woodcraft, I doubt if there are many rabbits abroad at this hour +of the night----But that's not!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What? Where?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Are there deer about the place as well?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Deer? I don't think so. I don't remember seeing any."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then give me the lantern!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Lamb was holding the lantern out in front of her. Snatching +it, he swung it slightly round. As he did so it went out.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Luker!" she exclaimed. "How did you manage that? What a clumsy +fool you are!"</p> + +<p class="normal">There was a new intonation in his voice.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Some one blew it out. Hollo, where are you coming to? Who the +devil, sir, are you? Confound the man, where's he gone?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Luker, what's the matter?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Some one was walking behind us--didn't you hear him? I not only +heard but I felt him; he was as close as that. When I swung the +lantern round I almost dashed it against his face. He blew it +out. He tried to snatch it from me; I felt his fingers. Can you +hear him?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is that a footstep?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He stepped upon a twig. There's more than one. I tell you +they're all round us. The lantern serves as a beacon; they can +see us though we can't see them."</p> + +<p class="normal">They were speaking in whispers.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is that another footstep?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Curse the fellow, I believe he's still within three or four +feet of us. I believe I heard him breathe. I've a revolver in my +pocket; I've half a mind----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I also have a revolver, and I've a whole mind. Look out! I'm +going to fire!"</p> + +<p class="normal">There was a flash; a report which seemed to wake the echoes of +the forest for miles and miles; then a scream which rose high +above the echoes, and seemed to hang quivering in, and rending, +the silent air. The stillness which again ensued was rendered +the more striking by its contrast with the previous turmoil.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You've shot some one."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not I!--that wasn't a man. I shouldn't be surprised if it was +some kind of a bird. There are birds in these woods which make +noises at night which go right through you. Where's your +friend?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'll strike a match and try to get a light again. You cover me +while I'm doing it."</p> + +<p class="normal">The instant the match flickered into flame there was a crashing +sound among the bushes as of a heavy object in headlong flight.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There he is! He's making off! I'll have another pop at him!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Again a revolver clamoured, but this time there was no answering +sound, only stillness followed. Luker had succeeded in lighting +the lantern. He held it well out. Together they peered into the +cave of light which it hollowed out in front of them. It was +broken by trees, by bushes, by bracken, but, so far as they +could see, by nothing else. Luker spoke in a whisper.</p> + +<p class="normal">"He's gone. They're too much for us, and too many. For all we +can tell there's some one behind each of those trees; they're +all of them big enough to shelter a man. This kind of thing's a +new experience to me--altogether out of my usual line. It's a +job for which I have no sort of stomach. What the game is I +don't know, but it's one in which all the odds are against us--I +do know that. I wish to the devil I'd stayed in town!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You didn't; you've come down into the country with me, and in +the country for the present you've got to stay. Give me that +lantern, and don't you snatch at it again. Whoever blows it out +while I've got hold of it will be clever. Pretend to be a man, +even if you aren't one. As for that game about which you're +talking, if there is one on, I promise you that whoever scores +in it, I shall."</p> + +<p class="normal">They continued their progress, the lady again holding the +lantern, moving onwards with her long, regular strides, swinging +it a little as she walked. Mr. Luker, shuffling alongside, +seemed to be unwilling to drop behind, and to find it difficult +to keep up with her. As he went he glanced continually from side +to side, and over his shoulder at the darkness which followed +them. There was no attempt on either side at conversation, they +simply went straight on.</p> + +<p class="normal">They had gone some distance without anything happening to +occasion them further concern, when the lady came to a sudden +stop.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Here we are!" she exclaimed. "That's the house in front of us." +She held out the lantern, so that its farthest rays just touched +a building which loomed mysteriously in the blackness. There was +a note of triumph in her voice as she went on. "Luker, you're +nearer to that thousand pounds than you perhaps think, and in a +very few minutes I'll be within reach of that quarter of a +million. Then I'll show them!--all the lot of them!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Quite what she meant by that last vague threat she only knew. +Before she had a chance to offer an explanation, if it was her +intention to offer one, she was interrupted by Mr. Luker, who +seemed destined that night to act as a harbinger of coming evil.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's that?" he cried. "Who--my God!--who is this coming along +the path?"</p> + +<p class="normal">He was not only shrinking as close to her as he could get, he +was gripping her arm with convulsive fingers, which she could +feel were trembling. He was looking in one direction, she in +another. She turned to see what he was staring at; when she saw, +it is possible that she began to be in a less exultant mood.</p> + +<p class="normal">Some one, something, was moving along the avenue and coming +towards them. It was not easy to determine what it was; it came +and went. It was rendered visible by a light which seemed to +emanate from its own body, as if it were a kind of +phosphorescence. When the light gleamed it was there plainly, if +dimly, to be seen; when the light ceased to gleam, it--the +something!--seemed to go with it; there was nothing but the +black darkness. This continued, this coming and going, for +perhaps thirty seconds. Then, suddenly, the light not only grew +brighter, it remained. They could see what the something was--it +was a man. But what a man! A huge, unwieldy, bloated, shapeless +creature, covered from head to foot with some white garment +which was swathed round him like a sheet. He seemed to be +floating, rather than walking. They could see no movement of his +limbs, and yet he came steadily towards them until he was within +five or six feet of where they were standing, when the light +faded as suddenly as it had come, and there was nothing but +darkness there.</p> + +<p class="normal">For some instants they remained motionless, both being probably +under the impression that though the figure was no longer +visible it still was advancing towards them. While they waited, +on the alert to discover what was next about to happen, the +silence was broken by a curious noise, as by a series of quick, +broken gasps, as if some one panted, struggled, for breath.</p> + +<p class="normal">When all again was still, Mr. Luker asked, in a tone of voice in +which was what sounded uncommonly like a note of banter--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, my friend, aren't we to see any more of you? Is that the +end of the performance? Won't you favour us with another private +view?"</p> + +<p class="normal">In Mrs. Lamb's voice, on the other hand, there was a suggestion +of preternatural gravity.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was Cuthbert Grahame."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was Cuthbert Grahame. Didn't you hear him fighting for +breath?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Cuthbert fiddlesticks! It was some damned trick, and not over +well done either. This entertainment has been prepared for our +special benefit; it occurs to me that it has been insufficiently +rehearsed. We've been treated to the first part up to now; the +second part is waiting for us inside the house--if we ever get +as far. The prelude's been mere foolery. I imagine that the +serious business is to come."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was Cuthbert Grahame."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nonsense! Where were your eyes, not to speak of your senses? +Didn't you notice----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He is waiting for us inside the house."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Lamb, if you'll exercise a little common-sense and allow +me to finish, I think I shall be able to prove, even to your +satisfaction, that what you've just now witnessed----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't you see him? He beckons to us. Can't you hear how hard he +fights for his breath?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No; nor you either. Aren't you well? Is this one of those fits +of which you were telling me trying to come back, in which you +see things? If so, keep it off as long as you conveniently can. +So far as I'm concerned it will only need that to put a crown +and climax on my night's enjoyment. Listen to me, Isabel----"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Come!" Taking him by the arm, she led him up to the house. When +they reached the front door she took a key out of the bag which +she still carried. After a momentary hesitation she held it up, +as if to call his attention to something that was taking place +within. "Listen! Don't you hear? He calls to us! Let us go to +him. I've often heard him calling to me like that in the +night--often."</p> + +<p class="normal">During the last few seconds, for some occult reason, a change +had taken place in her which had apparently revolutionised the +whole woman externally as well as internally; her bearing, her +manner, her voice, and especially her face, had changed. The +alteration in the latter was nothing short of amazing. Just now +its predominating expression was one of boldness, defiance, +reckless rage. She had looked as if she feared neither man nor +devil; her looks had probably only mirrored her actual feelings. +This air of wildness, of careless contempt for the unknown, +unseen perils, which, according to her companion, hemmed her in +on every side, had been accentuated by the fact that, having +lost her hat when the cart was overturned, her thick black hair +had broken loose from its fastenings and hung in tangled masses +about her face. She had looked what she emphatically was, a +dangerous woman in a dangerous frame of mind. Now all that had +changed. She looked no longer angry or defiant; all traces of +boldness had vanished altogether. Instead, a stolid, fixed +expression had come upon her face, one which, as it were, was +void of all expression. In her wide-open eyes there was a +strained, staring look, which conveyed an uncomfortable +impression that she was gazing at something which only she could +see, gazing with a fixed intensity of vision as if she was bent +on not losing even the minutest details.</p> + +<p class="normal">As she stood there, with uplifted face, the rays of the lantern +lighting up her rigid features, Mr. Luker observed her with an +appearance of unmistakable discomfort. The significance of the +change which had taken place in her was borne in on him with +uncomfortable force. The change in her affected him; he was +obviously becoming each second more uneasy. He seemed to make a +desperate attempt to conquer his own increasing apprehension, +and to restore her to her former state of mind.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Isabel, you didn't use to be an utter fool. Before you put that +key into the lock, before you move another step, rub that look +of stark, staring midsummer madness off your face. It doesn't +become you, God knows. Listen to what I have to say; try not to +be a fool. Don't you understand----"</p> + +<p class="normal">Before he could explain what was the appeal he was about to make +to her understanding, some one, or something, came swirling at +them from the side of the house. The light disappeared in the +lantern; the lantern itself was snatched from the lady's hands. +She made no effort to regain it, nor to ascertain how the thing +had happened. She stood in the darkness, motionless. Presently +she said--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Luker! Luker!"</p> + +<p class="normal">There was no answer. She put out her hand to feel for her +companion who, a moment before, had been standing close at her +side. He was not there.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_34" href="#div1Ref_34">CHAPTER XXXIV</a></h2> + +<h3>TOWARDS JUDGMENT</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">For possibly a couple of minutes she continued on the doorstep +immobile, as if she not only did not understand what had +happened, but as if she also still failed to realise that her +legal adviser was at least no longer where he was. She repeated +his name, at intervals--"Luker! Luker!"--almost as if she was a +child who repeated, parrot-like, a meaningless formula. Then, +after a while, when still there came no answer, she thrust her +hand, as if mechanically, into the bosom of her dress, feeling +for something. Presently it emerged, holding a flask. In the +same odd, automatic fashion, as if her actions were not the +product of her own volition, unscrewing the stopper, she placed +the neck between her lips. After a perceptible interval, +suddenly slipping between her fingers, it dropped on to the step +with a clatter. It had contained ether; she had swallowed its +entire contents.</p> + +<p class="normal">What were the exact physical or mental results of what would +have been a poison to an unaccustomed subject, it would be +difficult to say. One fact may be baldly stated, it robbed her +of her senses. Her capacity of judging between the real and the +unreal had been trembling in the balance. When she emptied that +flask unreality became all that was real. Not perhaps on the +instant, but certainly after the expiration of a very few +seconds.</p> + +<p class="normal">At first she stood trembling, so that one might almost have +expected to see her sink to the ground from sheer inability to +stand. She stretched out her arms into the darkness, as if +seeking for support, and found none. Then, putting her hands up +to her face, she began to rub them up and down before her eyes, +as if endeavouring to rub away some film which obscured her +sight, and she began to cry, softly, beneath her breath. Then, +dropping her hands to her sides, she began to see the things +which were not, those visions which, in some form, are the +inseparable companions of a mind diseased.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am coming!--I heard you!--you need not call so loud!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The words were uttered not loudly, but with such clearness of +intonation that, proceeding from her as she stood there all +alone in the outer darkness, and addressed apparently to the +circumambient air, they might have produced on unintentional +listeners not an agreeable effect. She turned, making as if to +insert the key which she still held into the lock of the door +behind her, to find that the door already stood wide open, and +that in the hall beyond there was a faint light which was just +sufficient to render objects visible.</p> + +<p class="normal">In her normal condition the fact that the door had seemingly +opened of its own accord would have occasioned her something +more than wonder; she would at least have taken it for granted +that somewhere in its immediate neighbourhood were helping +hands; and she would promptly have set herself to discover to +whom they belonged, and just where their owners might be found. +In her then state no notion of the kind seemed to enter her +brain. That the fact that the door was open occasioned her +surprise was obvious; but it was surprise of a singular quality, +and it was accompanied by abject terror. The woman seemed all at +once to become stunted, to shrink into sheer physical +insignificance.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Cuthbert Grahame," she muttered, "why did you open the door? +How did you get out of your bed to open the door?" With a sound +which was part wail, part sob, she stumbled across the threshold +into the hall. "Where shall I go? Shall I go into the room into +which I first went on that first night? Perhaps I'll be safe in +there--perhaps I'll be safe. I don't want to go upstairs--not +yet--not just yet. I daren't--I daren't. Listen! how he calls to +me--how he calls."</p> + +<p class="normal">She glanced up the staircase, which she approached even while +she shrank from it, and she saw, in the dim, mysterious light, +leaning over the banister, looking down at her from above, a +woman's face--Nannie Foreshaw. She did not stop to ask herself +if the appearance might by any chance be real, a creature of +warm flesh and blood. It was some moments before she realised +who it was that looked at her. When she did, the presence there +was so unexpected, so wholly unforeseen, and thrust so deeply at +her conscience, that it is not impossible that the mere shock +which resulted from the sight was sufficient to disintegrate her +few remaining wits. She at once took it for granted that she was +gazing at a spectre, a shade returned from the tomb to afflict +her before her time. Cowering back against the wall, she broke +into screams of agony.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nannie! Nannie!--I didn't kill you!--I didn't kill you! Don't +look at me like that!--don't! don't! don't!" Covering her face +with her hands, she began to sob with such violence that one +could see her shaking as she leaned against the wall. When, +removing her hands, she again ventured to look up, there was no +one there. "She's gone! she's gone!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The words were uttered with a gasp of relief which it was not +pleasant to hear. For a moment it seemed as if she might be +restored to something like her proper self. Then, while she +seemed to waver, without apparent rhyme or reason, all her +tremors returned. Again she broke into shrieks and cries.</p> + +<p class="normal">"She's waiting for me in his room! in his room! in his +room!--she's waiting for me! My God! what am I to do?--help +me! help me! I'll have to go to him. Listen how he calls to +me!--listen how he calls! I'm coming!--don't call so loud!" She +began stumbling up the staircase, blunderingly, blindly, as if +she could not see where she was going. Stopping every two or +three steps, clutching at the wall, the rails; glancing back, +looking as though if she could she would descend. But each time, +just as she was about to beat a retreat, there came to her that +insistent voice, summoning her to her fate. She gasped out +expostulations even as she stumbled upwards. "Don't call so +loud! don't call so loud! I'm coming."</p> + +<p class="normal">And she did come. A singular spectacle she presented as she +went. No one would have recognised in that ill-shaped, mouthing, +struggling woman--though she alone knew what it was with which +she struggled; who seemed unable to stand up straight, and to +experience as much difficulty in ascending an ordinary staircase +as if it had been the scarred surface of some precipitous cliff +which she was forced, very much against her will, to climb--the +flamboyant and somewhat overwhelming lady who was known among a +certain set in London as the handsome Mrs. Lamb. There were no +traces of beauty about her then.</p> + +<p class="normal">When she had gained the landing her terror seemed, if the thing +were possible, to increase. Descending to her knees, clutching +the railing with both hands, she crawled, as if drawn by some +invisible force, against which all the strength of her +resistance was in vain, towards the room, the bedroom, in which +Cuthbert Grahame had passed so much of the latter part of his +life, and in which, through her action, he had died. And all the +while she protested.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I won't come! I won't come!" For an instant she would cling not +only with her hands, but, as it were, with her whole body, to +the railings, as if she had finally resolved that nothing should +constrain her to advance another inch. Then again she was +possessed by a paroxysm of terror. "I will come!--don't call so +loud! I am coming!"</p> + +<p class="normal">When she was in front of the door of the room she did halt for +perhaps more than a minute, crouching in a heap on the floor, +covering her face with her hands, overtaken by such a fury of +weeping that the violence of her sobs seemed as if it would tear +her to pieces. Then, as if actuated by some sudden irresistible +impulse, she rose to her feet, and exclaimed, still weeping--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Cuthbert Grahame, I hear you calling--I am here".</p> + +<p class="normal">She threw open the dead man's bedroom door.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_35" href="#div1Ref_35">CHAPTER XXXV</a></h2> + +<h3>JUDGES</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">In the room was the same faint, luminous glow which had been +noticeable in the hall and on the stairs. There could have +been no more eloquent testimony of her condition than the fact +that she accepted its presence as a matter of course; that it +never seemed to occur to her that there was something about +it which required elucidation; still less that a few shrewd, +well-directed inquiries might result in a very simple +explanation. She stood on the threshold, all dishevelled, bent, +weeping; always before her eyes the things which she alone could +see, stricken with a mad agony of fear by the horror of the +sight.</p> + +<p class="normal">She came a little farther towards the room, staring towards the +bed. When she had taken a step or two it seemed as if her legs +refused to uphold her any longer. Down she sank on to her knees +again; again she covered her face with her hands, as if by such +means she could shut off from herself the hideous imaginings of +her haunted brain.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't! don't! don't!" she wailed.</p> + +<p class="normal">While still she remained in that attitude of humility and +penitence there came a voice which called her by what had once +been her name.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Isabel Burney!"</p> + +<p class="normal">That she heard it there could be no doubt. At the sound of it +she shivered more than ever. But it may be that she was in doubt +whether it was a material voice, or whether it was a fresh +manifestation of those too-well remembered tones, which kept +calling to her all the time. For it is possible that a +disordered mind may be conscious that there is a difference +between the real and the imaginary without being capable of +satisfactorily perceiving what it is. She did not answer. It +came again, not loud, yet distinct and dominating.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Isabel Burney."</p> + +<p class="normal">This time she repeated her former wail, with renewed force of +entreaty.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't! don't!"</p> + +<p class="normal">If it was intended for a cry of appeal to be left alone, it went +unheeded. The voice returned, asking what was emphatically a +leading question.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Did you murder Cuthbert Grahame?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She made not the slightest attempt to shirk the very weighty +responsibility which attended the reply to such a question. An +affirmative was bursting from her lips almost before it was +asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes! yes! yes!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"How did you murder him?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Again the wail--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't! don't! don't!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"How did you murder him?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The wail became hysterical cries.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh! oh! oh!"</p> + +<p class="normal">But the voice persisted.</p> + +<p class="normal">"How did you murder him?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Confused words came stumbling from her lips, as if they were +being forcibly extracted.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The pillows--dragged---from under--he choked."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You dragged the pillows from under him, so that his head fell +down, and he was choked."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why did you murder him?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Here again the answer came rapidly and clearly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Because I didn't want him to destroy the will which I had +tricked him into signing."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How did you trick him?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He made me draw up a will which left all his property to +Margaret Wallace."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And then?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I drew up a will in which he left everything to me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And then?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I covered it with a sheet of paper, and got him to sign it, +thinking that he was signing the other."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Did he know what you had done?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes; I killed him before he could tell any one else and have +the will destroyed."</p> + +<p class="normal">The voice was still. There was silence, broken by the sound of +some one moving. The room was filled with a bright light. The +voice came again.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Isabel Burney!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The woman on her knees, dropping her hands, looked round. By a +lighted lamp which rested on a writing-table stood Margaret +Wallace. Whether Mrs. Lamb realised that she was looking at the +girl herself, or supposed that she was confronted by a +materialised phantom, has never been certainly known. She stared +at her surlily, unblinkingly, affrightedly, as one might stare +at some unpleasing object in a dream. The girl repeated the +questions which had already been answered. As one listened the +last remnants of doubt vanished as to whose was the voice which +had already made itself so prominent.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Did you trick Cuthbert Grahame into signing a will in which he +left all that he had to you, when he supposed himself to be +signing one in which he left it all to me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">There was a momentary hesitation, then the answer, spoken +sullenly, half beneath her breath, yet plain enough.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes; I did."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And did you then kill him because you feared discovery of what +you had done?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes; I did."</p> + +<p class="normal">There was another movement on the other side of the room. When +Mrs. Lamb looked round she found herself looking at Dr. Twelves, +who put a question to her on his own account.</p> + +<p class="normal">"So you lied to me when you said those pillows must have +slipped--you knew better. As I suspected, you dragged them +away--you female fiend!"</p> + +<p class="normal">His invective went unnoticed; there came the rather monotonous +refrain--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes; I did".</p> + +<p class="normal">There were other movements proceeding from all parts of the +room. On one side of her were Andrew McTavish and his partner, +Mr. Brown. Mr. McTavish was evidently very angry.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And you lied to us when you pretended that you suspected us of +robbing you! You knew all along that the only robbery you +yourself had committed--you impudent swindler!"</p> + +<p class="normal">He only received the same reply--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes; I did".</p> + +<p class="normal">Dr. Twelves wagged his finger at her, gruesomely.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You shall hang for it, Isabel Burney--you shall hang by the +neck until you're dead!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mr. McTavish cried--</p> + +<p class="normal">"At any rate, you shall be sent to penal servitude for the fraud +you have committed on us!"</p> + +<p class="normal">She showed no signs of resentment, as only a very short time +before she undoubtedly would have done, when her resentment +would probably have taken a sufficiently active turn. From her +demeanour it was difficult to determine if she comprehended what +was being said to her. She gazed stolidly about the room. Near a +window stood Nannie Foreshaw, leaning on a stick, holding with +one hand the curtain from behind which she had just emerged. At +sight of her she shrank backwards, as if she would withdraw +herself as far as she could. Before the door, as if he would bar +her retreat, was Harry Talfourd. When she saw him she seemed to +be moved more than she had been by any of the others; she turned +aside, with a low cry, and covered her face. Possibly, in some +tangled fashion, she remembered how, so recently, she had played +to him the <i>rôle</i> of the great lady, the benefactress; how +willing she had been to be something more to him than that; and +she was vaguely conscious of what a contrast she was exhibiting +to him now.</p> + +<p class="normal">Margaret had been seated at a table writing. Now, rising, she +turned to the woman who was still on her knees upon the floor.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have set down upon this sheet of paper a short confession of +your guilt. If you will sign it you shall not hang; you shall +not be sent to prison. You shall receive your only punishment +from your own conscience. I think that is to condemn you to the +greater punishment. I will read to you what I have written."</p> + +<p class="normal">She read aloud from the paper which she took in her hand:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"'I confess that Cuthbert Grahame instructed me to draw up a +will in which he left all that he had in the world to Margaret +Wallace; that, without his knowledge, I substituted for it +another form of will, according to which he left his property to +me, and that I induced him to sign this fraudulent form by means +of a trick. I also confess that I murdered Cuthbert Grahame in +order to avoid an exposure of the trick by means of which I had +induced him to sign the substituted fraudulent form of will.' If +you will attach your name to this confession you shall receive +no punishment beyond that which you award yourself--that will be +a sufficient one. Come here and sign."</p> + +<p class="normal">As if automatically, Mrs. Lamb rose to her feet, moved towards +the table, seated herself on the chair which Margaret had +occupied, accepted the pen which the girl offered, and wrote her +name in full on the sheet of paper which was set before her. +When she had signed, leaning back, she looked from one to the +other. They waited for her to speak, expecting perhaps some +burst of tardy anger. Then, on a sudden, without a word or a +movement, she slid from the chair on to the floor. When they +gathered round her she lay still.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h2><a name="div1_36" href="#div1Ref_36">CHAPTER XXXVI</a></h2> + +<h3>PLEASANT DREAMS!</h3> +<br> + + +<p class="normal">The duel had been fought to a finish, and Margaret had won.</p> + +<p class="normal">When Mrs. Gregory Lamb was brought back out of that fit by which +she had been overtaken she was lying on Cuthbert Grahame's bed, +on which he had lived for so long, and died at her hand; the bed +whose image had been borne in upon her phantom-haunted brain +with such horrible persistency. Dr. Twelves was bending over +her, standing where he had stood many a time to bend over the +man she slew. She was little better than a babbling idiot. She +is not much more than that now. She is a certified lunatic, +under kindly, yet watchful, guardianship, the expense of which +is paid by the girl whom she so cruelly wronged.</p> + +<p class="normal">The physical and mental strain which had been placed upon her +during that period of increasing financial pressure had been +great; her attempts to relieve it by a resort to ether had made +it ten times greater. How much of the spirit she drank has not +been exactly ascertained. She must have consumed large +quantities. Probably only the natural strength of her +constitution enabled her to resist its effects so long as she +did. Undoubtedly the habit of ether drinking had increased in +her to such an extent that in any case it would ultimately have +produced insanity. Her reason was already tottering when she was +brought face to face with Margaret Wallace on the night of her +reception, and was put to such dire confusion. It is believed +that she touched no solid food afterwards, subsisting solely +upon ether. Isaac Luker asserted that she carried a large bottle +of it in her bag when they journeyed together from London, and +was sipping its contents throughout the day.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was not strange that when the moment came she was ripe to +fall a ready victim to Margaret's carefully laid lures. The girl +fought her with weapons to which she was incapable of offering +resistance.</p> + +<p class="normal">Cuthbert Grahame's money, which had been searched for so long in +vain, was found deposited in the hiding-place the secret of +which she had revealed to Mrs. Lamb, intending, by working on +her guilty conscience and so extorting from her a confession, +which it was certain could never be obtained from her by any +other means, to destroy her when she went to seek it. Margaret +is now Mrs. Henry Talfourd. She is married to one who loved and +loves her, and for the love of whom she was willing to sacrifice +all. She is a rich woman. Bearing in mind the singularity of the +circumstances under which it has come into her possession, she +was desirous of having nothing to do with the dead man's money. +But it was pointed out that, excepting herself, there was no +possible claimant. She regards herself as an almoner, as a +steward of Cuthbert Grahame's great possessions rather than +their owner, and employs by far the larger portion of the income +they produce in works of benefaction. She still produces +pictures in black and white and in colour; there are few women +artists who have achieved a more substantial success.</p> + +<p class="normal">Her husband has not realised his dreams. "The Gordian Knot" has +never been produced. He burnt the play with his own hands, and +has never written another. He alone knows why, though his wife +may have a shrewd suspicion. So far he has been content to act +as his wife's right-hand man, an occupation which hitherto has +kept him fully employed.</p> + +<p class="normal">Dr. Twelves lives and flourishes. He has been heard to declare +that never again will he proffer assistance to any strange woman +whom he finds by the wayside. Nannie Foreshaw is dead. Messrs. +McTavish & Brown have, if anything, improved their standing as +family solicitors of undoubted integrity; Mrs. Talfourd is one +of their most valued clients.</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Talfourd presented Mr. Gregory Lamb with a passage to South +Africa, and with a sum of money when he landed. As he has never +asked for any more money, and nothing has been heard of him +since, the presumption is that he has perished in that grave of +many reputations. His wife's solicitor continues to exist, and +is still a very well-known gentleman in certain extremely +crooked walks of life.</p> + +<p class="normal">Cuthbert Grahame's home has been turned into a sanatorium and +holiday home for children. It could hardly be employed for a +better purpose. Boys and girls scamper among the trees; their +voices and their laughter ring through the house. They people it +with fresh associations; the old ghosts are gone. They find +health and happiness in the place where once was neither. And +when, at night, they lay their tired heads upon their pillows, +they dream only pleasant dreams. When they wake in the morning, +whether actually the skies be fair or clouded, to them it is +always as if the sun was shining.</p> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<h3>THE ABERDEEN UNIVERSITY PRESS LIMITED</h3> +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + +<br> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Duel, by Richard Marsh + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DUEL *** + +***** This file should be named 38054-h.htm or 38054-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/0/5/38054/ + +Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books + +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: A Duel + +Author: Richard Marsh + +Release Date: November 18, 2011 [EBook #38054] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DUEL *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books + + + + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + 1. Page scan source: + http://books.google.com/books?id=szQPAAAAQAAJ + 2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe]. + + + + + + + A DUEL + + + + + + + BY THE SAME AUTHOR + + The Beetle: A Mystery + Garnered + A Metamorphosis + The Twickenham Peerage + Both Sides of the Veil + The Seen and the Unseen + Marvels and Mysteries + Miss Arnott's Marriage + The Goddess: a Demon + The Joss: a Reversion + The Crime and the Criminal + + + + + + A DUEL + + + + BY + RICHARD MARSH + + + + METHUEN & CO. + 36 ESSEX STREET W.C. + LONDON + + + + + + _First published_, 1904 + + + + + + CONTENTS + + + BOOK I.--Wife + + + CHAPTER I + + The End of the Honeymoon. + + + CHAPTER II + + An Offer of Marriage. + + + CHAPTER III + + Whom God hath Joined. + + + CHAPTER IV + + A Second Honeymoon. + + + CHAPTER V + + A Conversation with the Doctor. + + + CHAPTER VI + + Husband and Wife. + + + CHAPTER VII + + A Tug of War. + + + CHAPTER VIII + + The Miniature. + + + CHAPTER IX + + The Sliding Panel. + + + CHAPTER X + + The Girl at the Door. + + + CHAPTER XI + + Hot Water. + + + CHAPTER XII + + Signing the Will. + + + CHAPTER XIII + + The Encounter in the Wood. + + + CHAPTER XIV + + In Cuthbert Grahame's Room. + + + + BOOK II.--The Widow + + + CHAPTER XV + + "The Gordian Knot". + + + CHAPTER XVI + + Margaret is Puzzled. + + + CHAPTER XVII + + An Unexpected Visitor. + + + CHAPTER XVIII + + Cronies. + + + CHAPTER XIX + + In Council. + + + CHAPTER XX + + The Impending Sword. + + + CHAPTER XXI + + Out of the Blue. + + + CHAPTER XXII + + Margaret Settles the Question. + + + CHAPTER XXIII + + Margaret Resolves to Fight. + + + CHAPTER XXIV + + The Interior. + + + CHAPTER XXV + + Alarums and Excursions. + + + CHAPTER XXVI + + Solicitor and Client. + + + CHAPTER XXVII + + Pure Ether. + + + CHAPTER XXVIII + + Mr. Lamb in a Communicative Mood. + + + CHAPTER XXIX + + Margaret Pays a Call. + + + CHAPTER XXX + + Mrs. Lamb in Search of Advice. + + + CHAPTER XXXI + + Mrs. Lamb Returns to Pitmuir. + + + CHAPTER XXXII + + At the Gate. + + + CHAPTER XXXIII + + At the Door. + + + CHAPTER XXXIV + + Towards Judgment. + + + CHAPTER XXXV + + Judges. + + CHAPTER XXXVI + + Pleasant Dreams! + + + + + + BOOK I + + WIFE + + + + + A DUEL + + CHAPTER I + + THE END OF THE HONEYMOON + + +Isabel waited till the rat-tat was repeated a second time, then +she went down to the front door. Since Mrs. Macconichie and her +husband were both out, and she had the house to herself, there +was nothing else for her to do, unless she wished the postman to +depart with the letters. As it was, when she appeared at the +door, he grumbled at being delayed. + +"These Scotchmen are all boors," she told herself, in her +bitterness. + +She looked at the letter which had been thrust into her hand. It +was addressed to "Mr. G. Lamb". The sight of it reopened the +fountains of her scorn. + +"They might at least have put G. Lamb, Esq. G. Lamb! What a +fool I've been!" + +Further consideration of the envelope led her to the conclusion +that it was the letter they had both been waiting for--the +answer to her husband's plea for help. She pressed it between +her fingers to learn, if possible by the sense of touch, what +the envelope contained. + +"I believe there's only a letter--no cheque, nor anything. If +there isn't, then we are done." + +She hesitated a moment, then tore it open. It contained merely a +sheet of common writing-paper, on the front page of which was +this brief note:-- + + +"Dear Gregory, + +"I like the idea of your asking me to help you. You've had all +the help you'll ever have from me. The shop won't bear it; +business is getting worse. If it weren't, you'd get no more +money out of me. + +"You'd better get your wife to keep you. + + "Susan Lamb." + + +Susan Lamb! That was his mother, the mother of the man she had +married. So the truth was out at last. His mother kept a shop; +he had been sponging on her for the money he had scattered +broadcast. There was neither address nor date upon the letter, +but the postmark on the envelope was Islington. Islington! His +mother was a small shopkeeper in that haunt of the needy clerk! +And she had believed him when he had posed before her as a +"swell"--an aristocrat; when he had talked about his "coin" and +his "gees". He had jockeyed her into supposing that money was a +matter of complete indifference to him; that, as she boasted to +her friends and rivals, "he rolled in it". So successfully had +he hoodwinked her that she married him within a month of their +first meeting--she, Belle Burney, the queen of song and dance! +Had thrown up all her engagements to do it, too; and she was +beginning to get some engagements which were not to be despised. + +At the commencement he had done things in style: had taken her +up to Edinburgh, leisurely, in a motor. She had imagined that +the motor was his own. At Edinburgh it vanished; he told her to +receive some trifling repairs. But she, having already +discovered he was a liar, suspected him of having sold it. Later +she learned that the machine had only been hired for a +fortnight. + +Already, at Edinburgh, money began to run short. He did his best +to conceal from her the state of the case, but the thing was so +obvious that his attempts at concealment were vain. He had lied +bravely, protesting that, in some inexplicable way, his +remittances had gone wrong; that in the course of a post or two +he would be in possession of an indefinitely large sum of money. +The posts came and went, but they brought no money. So they +drifted hither and thither, each time to humbler quarters. Now, +within six weeks of marriage, they were stranded at a remote +spot in Forfarshire, within a drive of Carnoustie. Isabel had +reason to suspect that, at the time of their marriage, her +husband had less than two hundred pounds in the world. He had +squandered more than that already; the motor had made a hole in +it. The pawnbroker had come to the rescue when the coin was +gone. They were penniless; owed for a week's food and lodging; +their landlady was already showing signs of anxiety. Now the +much-talked-of and long-expected letter had arrived which was to +bring the munificent remittance. + +It turned out to be half-a-dozen lines from his shopkeeping +mother, who declined to advance him a single stiver! + +When the young wife realised, or thought she realised, all that +the curt epistle meant, she told herself that now indeed the +worst had come. She had just had another bitter scene with her +husband; had, in fact, driven him out into the night before the +tempest of her scorn and opprobrium. The landlady had departed +on an errand of her own. Isabel told herself that now, if ever, +an opportunity presented itself to cut herself free from the +bonds in which she had foolishly allowed herself to be entwined. +She went upstairs, put on her hat and jacket, crammed a few of +her scanty possessions into a leather handbag, and then--and +only then--paused to think. + +It was nearly nine o'clock, late for that part of the world. The +nearest railway station was at Carnoustie, more than seven miles +away. She knew that there was an early train which would take +her to Dundee, and thence to London; but, supposing she caught +it, how about the fare? The fare to London was nearly two +pounds; she had not a shilling. She did not doubt that, once in +London, she could live, as she always had lived; but she had to +get there first, across five hundred miles of intervening +country. + +She arrived at a sudden resolution, one, however, which had +probably been at the back of her mind from the first. Yesterday, +going suddenly into the landlady's own sitting-room, she had +taken the old lady unawares. Mrs. Macconichie had what Isabel +felt sure were coins--gold coins--in one hand, and in the other +the lid of a tobacco jar which stood in a corner of the china +cupboard. Although seeming to notice nothing, Mrs. Lamb, struck +by the old lady's state of fluster, leaped to the conclusion +that that tobacco jar was her cash-box. Now, bag in hand, she +came downstairs to learn if her surmise had been correct. + +Although she was aware that the sitting-room was empty, she was +conscious of an odd disinclination to enter, dallying for some +seconds with the handle in her hand. Once in, she lost no time +in ascertaining what she wished to learn, meeting, however, with +an unlooked-for obstacle. The china cupboard was locked; no +doubt Mrs. Macconichie had the key in her pocket. She took out +her own keys; not one of them was any use. She could see the +tobacco jar on the other side of the glass door. She did +not hesitate long; moments were precious. Taking a metal +paper-weight off the mantelshelf she smashed the pane, breaking +it right away to enable her to gain free access to the jar. She +removed the lid. The jar was full of odds and ends; she did not +examine them closely enough to gather what they were. At the +bottom, under everything else, was a canvas bag. She took it +out. It was tied round the neck with pink tape. It undoubtedly +contained coins; perhaps twenty or thirty. Should she open it, +and borrow two or three? or should she take it as it was? + +The answer was acted, not spoken. Slipping the bag between the +buttons of her bodice, she passed from the room and from the +house. So soon as she was in the open air she thought she heard +the sound of approaching footsteps; as if involuntarily she +shrank back into the doorway, listening. She had been mistaken; +there was not a sound. She came out into the street again, +drawing a long breath. She looked to the right and left; not a +creature was in sight. She set off in the direction of +Carnoustie. + +Her knowledge of the surrounding country was of the vaguest +kind. She had not gone far before it began to dawn on her that +this was a foolhardy venture in which she was engaged. It was a +habit of hers to act first and think afterwards, or she would +never have become Mrs. Gregory Lamb. Hard-headed enough when she +chose to give her wits fair play, she was, at that period of her +career, too much inclined to become a creature of impulse. The +impulses to which she was prone to yield were only too apt to be +wrong ones. For instance, she had not long left Mrs. +Macconichie's before she perceived clearly enough that the +chances were possibly a hundred to one against her reaching +Carnoustie in the darkness on foot. Houses were few and far +between; the road was a lonely one; it was quite on the cards +that she might not meet a soul from whom to make inquiries. If +she had given the thing any thought at all, she would have +perceived from the first how slight her chances were, in which +case, since it was no use jumping out of the frying-pan into the +fire, she would certainly have postponed her departure. Now it +was too late to return. The pane of glass in the china cupboard +was broken; the canvas bag was inside her bodice. With the best +will in the world she might find it difficult to conceal what +had happened, not to speak of the possibility of Mrs. +Macconichie's having already discovered her loss. So she pressed +on. + +Indeed, shortly she could not have gone back if she had wished. +She had not started half an hour before she was forced to admit +that she had lost her bearings utterly; that she had not the +faintest notion in which direction Carnoustie lay, nor +whereabouts she was. She was on a black road; that was all she +knew. A rough, uneven road, which apparently straggled over open +moorland. She could make out trees here and there, but the road +itself seemed to have no boundaries. So far as she could make +out, there was nothing on either side in the shape of a hedge or +landmark. + +Soon she was not at all sure that she was not off the road; that +she was not roaming, blindly, over the open country. It seemed +impossible that any road could be so uneven. She kept stumbling +over unseen obstacles. Once she caught herself descending what +seemed to be the steep sides of some sort of pit. With a sense +of shock she drew back in time. She listened; she seemed to hear +the sound of running waters. Could she be standing on the bank +of some stream or river, into which, in another second, she +might have descended? Anxious, even a little alarmed, turning +right about face, she moved forward in what she supposed was the +opposite direction. She seemed to be stumbling over a succession +of hillocks. This could not be the road; she must have gone +entirely astray. If she did not take care she would be running +into some serious danger. + +All at once her foot caught in some trailing root or plant; she +went headforemost to the ground. Fortunately, she came down +lightly enough. The fall was of little consequence, but when she +tried to regain her perpendicular she learned, to her dismay, +that her ankle refused to support her. Willy-nilly, she had to +remain squatted where she had fallen. + +"I seem to be in for a real good thing," she groaned. "Am I to +stay here all night? I shall be frozen to the bone before the +morning, to say nothing of waiting like a rat in a trap for Mrs. +Macconichie to catch me." + +She had to wait there for probably more than an hour, not +exactly on the same spot. She managed, at intervals, to half +hobble, half crawl across, perhaps another couple of hundred +yards of ground. But the labour was thrown away. At that rate +she would not have covered a mile before daybreak. Yielding to +necessity, still clutching her bag, crouching on the turf, she +watched for the light to come. She felt no need for sleep; she +was only consumed by a great impatience, in that all things +seemed to be against her. + +The skies were clouded like her fate. Nowhere was there a +glimmer of a star. A cool breeze was coming from what she judged +to be the sea. It made itself more and more felt as the time +stole on. By degrees it began to bring a mist with it. As she +had foreseen, she became chilled to the marrow of her bones. + +"If this goes on I shall freeze to death." + +The idea recurred to her like a sort of formula. She kept +telling herself again and again that that night would be the end +of her. + +When her vitality seemed at its lowest point the stillness of +the night was broken by a sound--the sound of wheels. + + + + + CHAPTER II + + AN OFFER OF MARRIAGE + + +She raised her head to listen, thinking that her senses must be +playing her a trick. No; it certainly was the sound of wheels, +coming nearer and nearer. Some one was driving fast through the +darkness, so fast that in what seemed to her to be less than a +minute the driver was close upon her. Apparently nearly in front +of her, although she could not see it, was a road along which +the vehicle was approaching. It carried no lights; nothing broke +the shadows; but, if her ears could be trusted, within a +stone's-throw of where she was some wheeled conveyance was +hurrying past. She stood upon her one sound foot and shouted:-- + +"Hallo!--hallo-o!--hallo-o-o!" again and again. + +Her first shouts went unheeded. Possessed by a wild fear that +she might remain unnoticed, raising her voice to a desperate +yell, she started to scream herself hoarse. + +This time her tones travelled. Suddenly the vehicle ceased to +move. An answering shout came back to her:-- + +"Who's there? What's the matter with you?" + +The accent was broad Scotch. Had it been the purest Cockney +it could not have seemed more welcome. She replied to the +inquiry:-- + +"I've sprained my ankle so that I can hardly move". + +This time in the other voice there was an unmistakable +suggestion of surprise. + +"Is it a woman?" + +"Yes." + +Her tone was fainter. + +"And what might you be doing here at this hour of the morning?" + +"I'm going to Carnoustie." + +"Carnoustie! You're going to Carnoustie!--along this road? +You're joking! Can you get as far as this, so that I can have a +look at you?" + +"I'll try." + +She did try. It was a distance of barely a hundred yards, but +traversing it was a work of time. When the space was covered it +was only by clutching at the wheel of the trap that she saved +herself from subsiding in a heap upon the ground. In an instant +the driver was off his seat, and with his arm about her. + +"Is it so bad as that?" + +"It is pretty bad," she stammered. + +"For the Lord's sake, don't faint! We've no time to waste upon +such trifles." + +"I'm not going to faint." At any rate the tone was faint enough. +Suddenly she seemed to pull herself together, as if stirred by a +spirit of resentment. "I never have fainted in my life--I'm not +going to begin to do it now." + +He laughed--that is, the little husky sound he made might have +been intended for a laugh. + +"If you'll keep quite still I'll lift you up into the trap +somehow, though, by the feel of you, you're as big as I am, and, +maybe, heavier. The mare won't move. She's one of the few female +things I ever met that wasn't troubled with the fidgets." + +As he put it, "somehow" he did get her up into the trap, then +climbed on to the seat beside her. Presently they were bowling +along together. For some seconds neither spoke. She was +endeavouring to accustom herself to her new position. He, +possibly--as his questions immediately showed--was wondering who +it was that he had chanced upon. + +"You're English?" + +"I am." + +"Staying in these parts?" + +"I'm on a walking tour." + +"A walking tour at one o'clock in the morning!" + +"It wasn't one o'clock when I started. I've been where you found +me for hours and hours." + +"Where were you making for?" + +"I've told you, I was going to Carnoustie." + +"Going from Carnoustie, you mean. You'll never be finding it in +this part of the country." + +"I daresay. Since it became dark I've been hobbling round about +just anywhere. I don't know where I am; I've lost myself +completely." He was silent, as if he found something in her +words which made him think. Then she took up the _role_ of +questioner: "Where are you going?" + +"To a man that's dying." + +"Are you a doctor?" + +"It's my trade." + +"Then you'll be able to look at my ankle. I hope it's nothing +serious, but it seems to be getting worse instead of better." + +"I'll look at your ankle, never fear. I'll find you an easier +patient than the one I'm bound for." + +Little more was said on either side. The doctor seemed to be by +nature a taciturn man, or perhaps he was too preoccupied for +speech. Isabel was feeling too miserable to talk. She was cold +and wet; her ankle was occasioning her no little pain. She could +hardly have been less inclined for conversation, and she, also, +had at times a gift of silence. During the twenty or thirty +minutes the drive continued probably not half-a-dozen words were +exchanged. + +At last the doctor brought his mare to a standstill. + +"I suppose you couldn't get down and open a gate? There's one +right in front of us. I can see it's closed." + +His eyes must have had the cat's quality of being able to +penetrate the darkness; she could see nothing. + +"I might be able to get down--if I had to tumble, but I doubt if +I'd ever be able to get up again." + +He grunted as if in disapprobation. + +"Can you hold the reins while I get down?" + +"I daresay I could do that." + +He passed her the reins and descended. She heard a gate swing +back upon its hinges. He reappeared at the horse's head. + +"I'd better lead her through and up to the house; it's as black +as the devil's painted under the trees. I ought to have brought +my lamps, but I came away in such a hurry. When some folks are +dying they will not wait." + +They passed through a darkness which was so intense that she +could not see the horse which was drawing her on. The avenue +seemed a long one. It was some minutes before, drawing clear of +the overhanging foliage, they stopped in front of a house which +loomed grim and ominous in the shadows. Apparently their +approach had been heard. No sooner had they stopped than the +door was thrown wide open. The figure of a woman was seen +peering out into the darkness, with a lamp in her hand. + +"Is it the doctor?" she demanded. + +"Yes, it's the doctor. And how is he now?" + +"He's as near to death as he can be to be still alive. I believe +he's only keeping the breath in his body till he gets a sight of +you." + +"To be sure that's uncommonly good of him. Now, madam, will that +ankle of yours permit you to tumble down with the help of a hand +from me?" + +Without answering Isabel commenced a laborious and painful +descent. At sight of her the woman on the doorstep evinced a +lively curiosity. + +"Why, doctor, who is it you're bringing with you?" + +"It's a visitor for you, and another patient for me, Nannie. +You'll have to find her a corner somewhere while I go up to see +the laird. When I've done with him I'll have to start with her. +I'm hoping that she'll be the easier job of the two. Come, lend +a hand. It's beyond my power to get her into the house alone, +and it seems that by herself she'll never do it." + +Between them they got her up the steps, through the door and +into a room which, immediately after passing it, was entered on +the right. They placed her on a couch. + +"Now, madam," observed the doctor, "here you'll have to stay +until I've seen my other patient. And since Heaven only knows +how long he'll keep me, you'll have to make the best of it until +I come. So keep up the character you told me of and don't you +faint, or any silliness of that kind, but just make yourself as +comfortable as ever you can." + +With that the speaker left her, the woman going with him. She +had placed on a table the lamp which she had borne in her hand. +It was a common glass affair, which did not give too good a +light. For some minutes Isabel showed no inclination to avail +herself of its assistance to learn in what manner of place she +was. By degrees, however, as the time continued to pass, and +there were still no signs of any one appearing, she began to +show a languid interest in her surroundings. She was dimly +conscious that the room was not a large one; that it was +sparely, even austerely, furnished. She was aware that the couch +on which she lay was of the old-fashioned horsehair kind, both +slippery and uncomfortable. She had a vague suspicion that if +she was not careful she would slip right off it, and her misty +imaginings became mistier still. Before she knew it she was +asleep. + +She slept for two good hours before she was disturbed; at least +that period of time had elapsed before the doctor made his +reappearance in the room. The sight of the sleeping woman seemed +to occasion him surprise. He observed her with a slight smile +adding another pucker to his wrinkled cheeks. He was a little, +thin man, clean shaven and bald-headed. He had a big, aquiline +nose. His eyes were sunk deep in his head, looking out from +overhanging shaggy eyebrows. His lips were drawn so tightly +together as to hint at a paucity of teeth. + +"Who are you, I wonder? You've youth, health, good looks--three +good things for a woman to have. You're not ill-dressed. And yet +there's that about you, as you lie sleeping there--we're all of +us apt to give ourselves away when we're asleep--which makes me +wonder who you are, and how you came to sprain your ankle on +Crag Moor when going to Carnoustie. However that may be, there's +an adventure lying ready to your hand--if you've a fancy for +adventures. And, unless I'm much mistaken, I think you have." + +He laid his hand upon the sleeper's shoulder. The touch was a +light one, but it was sufficient to arouse her. With a start she +sprang up to a sitting posture, crying-- + +"You shan't! It's a lie! You shan't." She put her hand to her +bodice, as if to guard something which was hidden there. The +doctor said nothing; he stood and watched. Waking to a clearer +sense of her surroundings, she perceived him standing by her +side. "Oh, it's you. How long have I been asleep?" + +"Sufficiently long, I hope, to rest you. Will you allow me to +introduce myself? My name is Twelves--David Twelves, M.D., of +Edinburgh. May I ask if you have any objection to introduce +yourself to me, and tell me your name?" + +"Not the least; why should I have? I'm not ashamed of my name. +Why do you want to know it?" + +"Because the immediate object of my presence here is to make you +what is to all intents and purposes an offer of, say, twenty +thousand pounds, and I have a not unnatural desire to know to +whom I am offering it." + +She sat more upright on the couch, swinging round so as to bring +her feet upon the floor, looking at him with eyes which were now +wide open. + +"What do you mean? You are making fun of me." + +"I am doing nothing of the kind. This is likely to be one of the +most serious moments of your life. I am not disposed to lighten +it by misplaced attempts at playfulness." Yet even as he spoke +again that nebulous smile seemed to add another pucker to his +cheeks. "What I say is said very much in earnest. There is a man +upstairs who's dying. Perhaps he is already dead while I stand +here talking to you. If he's not dead, before he dies he wants +another curious thing--a wife." + +"A wife!--and you say he's dying!" + +"It's because he's dying that he wants her. He has had no need +of such an encumbrance living. I have come to ask you if you'll +be his wife." + +"I be his wife!" + +Instinctively she doubled up the finger on which was the +wedding-ring. She still wore her gloves, so it had remained +unnoticed. + +"Yes, you. You're the only woman within reach, except old +Nannie, who hardly counts, or I wouldn't trouble you. Answer me +shortly--yes or no--will you be his wife?" + +"Marry a perfect stranger!--a man I've never seen!--who you say +is dying!" + +"Precisely; it is a mere formula to which I'm asking your +subscription. He'll certainly be dead inside two hours, possibly +in very much less. You'll be a widow in one of the shortest +times on record; in possession of a wife's share of all his +worldly goods--and that, by all accounts, should be worth fully +twenty thousand pounds." + +"Twenty thousand pounds! But why should he want to marry any one +if he's dying?" + +"There's not much time for explanation, but I'll explain this +much. He's made a will in favour of a certain person. That will +he is anxious to revoke. If he marries it will become invalid. +As matters stand it will be easier for him to take a wife than +to make another will." + +"You are sure he will be dead within two hours?" + +"Quite. I shall not be surprised to learn that he's dead +already. You are losing your chances of becoming a well-to-do +widow by lingering here." + +"You are certain he will leave me twenty thousand pounds?" + +"The simple fact of his death will make it yours. So soon as the +breath is out of his body you will become entitled to a wife's +inheritance--if you are his wife." + +"You are not playing me any trick? It is all just as you say?" + +"On my honour, it is all just as I say. There is no trick. If +you will come with me upstairs you will be able to judge for +yourself." + +"But how can we be married at a moment's notice? Is there a +clergyman in the house?" + +"You forget you are in Scotland. Neither notice nor clergyman is +needed. It will be sufficient for you to recognise each other as +husband and wife in the presence of witnesses; that act of +mutual recognition will in itself constitute a legal marriage +which all the lawyers will not be able to break. That is why it +will be easier for him to marry than to make another will." + +"There is not the least doubt that he will be dead within two +hours?" + +"Not the least--unless a miracle intervenes." + +She was sitting with her hands clenched in her lap, a +perceptible interval of silence intervening before the words +burst from her lips-- + +"Then I'll marry him!" + + + + + CHAPTER III + + WHOM GOD HATH JOINED + + +Dr. Twelves showed no sign of either surprise or gratification. +He looked at her dispassionately, almost apathetically, from +under his overhanging eyebrows. + +"Can you walk upstairs without assistance?" + +"I'm afraid not. I don't think my ankle is any better." + +He stooped down. + +"It's swollen; it looks as if it were going to be an awkward +business. Your boot and stocking will have to be cut away; but +there's no time to do it now--moments are precious. You will +have to wait until you're married. It's only on the first floor. +Do you think you'll be able to get up with the aid of my arm and +of the baluster?" + +"I'll try." + +"Might I suggest, before we start, that it would do no harm if +you were to remove your hat and jacket. It would seem more in +keeping." + +She acted on his suggestion. + +"I ought to wash and tidy myself; I know I'm all anyhow." + +"Now you will do very well. Your future husband is too far gone +to be able to tell if your hair is straight or crooked; at the +point he's reached that sort of thing doesn't matter." When they +had reached the landing at the top of the stairs the doctor said +to her: "By the way, the name of your future husband is +Grahame--Cuthbert Grahame. May I ask what yours is? It is just as +well that he should know it." + +She hesitated a moment. + +"My name is Isabel Burney." + +"Miss Burney, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Grahame's room." + +He threw open the door of the room in front of which they had +been standing. As he did so Isabel slipped off her left-hand +glove, bringing with it, at the same time, her wedding-ring. +Crumpling up her glove she squeezed it into her waistband, the +ring inside it. On the doctor's arm she hobbled to a big +armchair, into which she sank with a sigh of unmistakable +relief. + +The room in which she found herself, although low-ceilinged, was +a spacious one. It seemed to her that all the furniture it +contained was old-fashioned, a fact which, although she did not +know it, increased its value perhaps a hundred-fold. She thought +it simply dowdy. A huge Chippendale bed was in the centre of the +room. In it, propped up on pillows, was the figure of a man +which, if only from the point of size, fitly matched the bed. +Leaning over him, on the other side, was Nannie, the old woman +who had admitted them into the house. The doctor addressed +himself to her. + +"How is he?" + +"About the same." + +Although they had both spoken in a whisper their voices were +audible to the man in the bed. + +"Is that that old devil Twelves come back again?" + +The tone was harsh, and it was obvious that the speaker spoke +with difficulty, but the words themselves were plain enough. The +doctor evinced no sign of annoyance at the other's somewhat +uncomplimentary reference to himself; on the contrary, he chose +to apply to himself the other's epithet as he answered:-- + +"Yes, it's the old devil back again, and, what's more, he's +brought the young devil too--begging your pardon, Miss Burney, +for speaking of you in such a manner. But it's the fashion in +this house to use strong language, and always has been. Laird, +I've brought the lady." + +"Where is she?" + +"At this moment she's sitting in your armchair. As I told you, +she's sprained her ankle, which makes it difficult for her to +walk, or even stand." + +"Damn her ankle!" + +"By all means. You should know more about that sort of thing +than I do. You're nearer to it than I am." + +"You think that hurts me?" + +"Not I. I know that nothing hurts you. I doubt if even the +torments of hell will trouble you much. You're past all hurting. +Shall I tell Miss Burney she isn't wanted, and can go again?" + +"What's her name?" + +"Burney--Isabel Burney. At least, she says so." + +"Isabel Burney, you are my wife; you're Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame. I +acknowledge you as my wife, and I wish all men to acknowledge +you also. Are you content that it should be so?" + +"I am." + +"You hear, Nannie? You hear, Twelves? You're both witnesses. I +take Isabel Burney to be my wife, and she agrees." + +"I hear. But does she take you for her husband--eh, Miss +Burney?" + +"I do. I take Cuthbert Grahame to be my husband in the sight of +God and man." + +Isabel had returned to one of her old faults--overemphasis. +There was a theatrical intensity about both her manner and her +words which was singularly out of place when compared with the +matter-of-fact ribaldry which seemed to mark the husky utterance +of the man in the bed. Its inappropriateness seemed to strike +the others. After a perceptible pause the man in the bed +wheezed-- + +"Leave God out of it". Presently he added, still more wheezily, +"Come here, Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame". + +The doctor moved towards her. + +"Can I assist you, Mrs. Grahame, to your husband's side?" With +the doctor's aid she gained the bed. "Laird, here's your wife; +can you see her?" + +Isabel saw the man whom she had taken to be her husband. The +sight of him shocked her. She told herself that she had never +seen a more dreadful object even in her dreams. His size was +abnormal. Not only was he naturally a big man, but his frame had +become swollen and bloated till it was monstrous--a horror to +look upon. His head and face were covered with scanty red hair, +which needed cutting. He had a huge head, and his neck was so +short and thick that it conveyed a grotesque impression that his +head sprang directly from his trunk. His whole form seemed to be +afflicted with some sort of tetanus, so that he was rigid, +immovable. He lay on his back, with his arms straight down at +his sides. Through his parted lips came jerky, stertorous +breaths. His eyelids were partially open, but only the whites of +his eyes were visible; his own words made it clear that they +were of little use to him as organs of sight. + +"See her? No, I can't see her. I don't want to." + +As he spoke a tremor passed all over him. His whole frame +heaved; as if seized by a sudden convulsion he began fighting +for his life. The doctor spoke to her. + +"You had better go, unless you'd like to see the last of him. +This is likely to be the end. He'll hardly win through another +bout." + +He moved towards the bed, Nannie joining him. Isabel was left to +her own devices. Powerless to move far unaided it was all she +could do to stagger to the nearest chair. In it she sat, +waiting, watching, listening, like an unwilling spectator in +some bad dream. It was a scene which she never wholly forgot. +The dim light, the quaintly furnished room, the figures of the +old man and woman bending this way, then that, as they struggled +with the creature on the bed. What ailed him she did not know; +she vaguely surmised that he might be in the throes of some kind +of epileptic fit. His contortions shook the bed, indeed the +room. He kept uttering sounds which had a disagreeable +resemblance to the half-strangled yelps of some wild beast. + +How long it lasted she did not know. Long enough to strain her +already highly strung nerves almost beyond endurance. At last +there came a lull. The man on the bed was first quieter, then +still. She took advantage of the silence to exclaim:-- + +"Can't you take me away somewhere? You know I can't move. If I +have to stay here much longer I--I shall make a fool of myself." + +The doctor and Nannie paid her no heed. Side by side they were +stooping together over the silent figure. After affording them +what she deemed a more than sufficient opportunity to answer, +she appealed to them again. + +"Can't you hear me? Take me away somewhere--I don't care where! +I'll go mad if you don't." + +The doctor did not answer her directly; he spoke to Nannie. + +"Do as she bids you; take her away." + +"Where'll I take her?" the woman asked. + +"Take her and put her to bed in the best bedroom. Remember that +she's now the mistress of this house." + +Nannie moved towards Isabel. For a woman, she was tall and +brawny, but she was probably well past fifty, and Isabel +certainly had not credited her with the capacity to do what she +immediately did. She eyed the stranger for a moment in silence, +then she asked, in the broadest Scotch:-- + +"Can't you walk by your own self?" + +Isabel resented both the tone and the scrutiny. + +"You know I can't." + +Without more ado the woman, stooping, put her arms about her and +lifted her bodily from the chair as if she were some great +child. Isabel was taken by surprise, and a little alarmed. + +"You'll drop me!" she cried. + +"I'll not drop you; you're nothing of a weight." + +As if to prove it, the old woman bore her from the room, across +the landing, to another room on the other side, one which was in +darkness. But Nannie seemed to know its geography by instinct. +She deposited her burden on what Isabel realised was a bed. +Striking a match on a box which she took from her pocket, she +lit some candles which stood on the mantelshelf. Isabel, +remaining where she had been placed, eyed her as she moved +about. + +"You're very strong." + +"I'm not so strong as once I was. There was a time when I'd have +carried four of you, and thought nothing of it either. Now can +you undress yourself, or will you be needing me to do it for +you?" + +"Thank you, I think I can undress myself; but if you would help +me take the boot off my bad foot." + +Nannie bent over the foot which the other extended. She regarded +it in silence, then, still without a word, she left the room. So +soon as she was gone Isabel dragged the glove which contained +her wedding-ring out of her belt, and the canvas bag which had +come out of Mrs. Macconichie's tobacco jar from her bodice, and +thrust them as far as possible under the bolster which was +beneath the pillow on which she was reclining. Scarcely had she +done this when Nannie reappeared, in her hands a pair of large +scissors. With their aid she proceeded, still speechless, to +cut, first, the laces of Isabel's boot, and then the boot +itself, till it came away from her foot. As it came away she did +what she boasted she had never before done in her life--she +fainted. When she came to herself again she found that Nannie, +who had apparently remained indifferent to the fact that her +senses had left her, having bathed her foot and ankle, was +putting the finishing touches to the bandages in which she had +swathed it. When the bandage was completed the old woman, still +without vouchsafing a word, began to undress her, and did it +with a deftness and neatness which would have done her credit +had she played the part of lady's-maid her whole life long. +Almost before she knew it, she was ready for the sheets, and so +soon as she was ready she was placed between them. + +"You're very good to me," she murmured, with a luxurious sigh, +as she recognised what a delicious feeling it was to be between +them. + +"I'm not good to you--anyway I'm not wanting to be good to you." + +Isabel looked up with surprise; the tone was almost savage. + +"Why not? Don't you think that you will like me?" + +"Like you!--like you!" + +The emphasis with which the words were repeated was +unmistakable. It would have been difficult for scorn to have +been more eloquent. Without condescending to further speech, as +if everything had been said which could be said, Nannie moved +towards the door. Isabel put a question to her as she reached +it. + +"Is my husband dead?" + +Nannie turned swiftly round to her. + +"Your--what?" + +"My husband." + +"Your husband!--your husband!" + +Again the repetition was marked by the same wealth of scorn. +Isabel was moved to some show of resentment. + +"He is my husband--you know he's my husband." + +"Oh, he's your husband, Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame. I'm not doubting +it, ma'am, or that you're a fit and proper wife for him. I'm +ready to tell to any one that you're a well-matched pair." + +"Is he dead?" + +As she repeated her inquiry Isabel's manner was a trifle more +subdued; she was finding Nannie a difficult person to contend +with. + +"You'd better be asking Dr. Twelves if your husband's dead, +ma'am; he's a surer judge of dead folk than I am. You'll be +feeling anxious till you know, and so I'll tell the doctor. When +a woman's been acquainted with a man so long as you've been +acquainted with your man, so that you've come to know all the +secrets of his heart, and the very shape and fashion of the soul +which God has lent him, to be sure all her nature stirs within +her when she begins to fear he's near to dying. It's hard to +lose the husband to whom you've only been married a couple of +minutes, so I'll tell the doctor to hurry and let you know if +you're a widow before you're a wife." + +Without giving Isabel a chance to retort, Nannie opened the door +with a swishing movement, which was in harmony with her state of +mind, and vanished from the chamber. + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + A SECOND HONEYMOON + + +She had slept well; Isabel admitted so much. She suspected +something else, that the morning was far advanced. There was +that in the atmosphere which conveyed that impression. +Apparently some one had been in while she still slept and put +the room in order. The blinds were up, the curtains drawn back, +the sun streamed in through the small square windows which were +set deep in the thickness of the wall. As she looked about her, +from her vantage place on the pillow, she felt that this was the +queerest place she ever had been in. Everything, including the +room itself, seemed to her to be hundreds of years old. The +paper on the walls was like nothing she had ever seen before. +The furniture was of the oddest shapes; indeed, what some of the +articles might be intended for was beyond her comprehension. As +she gradually absorbed it all, she began to be conscious of an +almost eerie feeling that she had woke up in some ancient +habitation and in some bygone age of which she had no knowledge. + +Then something else forced itself on her attention, she felt +that she was helpless. As she tried to turn in bed, the better +to enable her to see what was to be seen, a spasm of pain passed +over her, which was so acute that she had to shut her eyes and +bite her lips to prevent herself from crying out. For some +moments she lay quite still, waiting for the pain to go. It was +some time before it diminished; even when it was easier she +learnt, to her dismay, that she would have to be very careful in +her movements if she did not wish it to return with probably +increasing violence. Her foot seemed, from the feel of it, to be +about as bad as it could be. It was not only useless, it held +her prisoner. The slightest attempt to move it in any direction +resulted in the keenest anguish. It seemed that relief from +almost unendurable torment could only be obtained by remaining +entirely quiescent. That meant, in effect, that she was chained, +possibly for an indefinite period, to the bed in which she was +lying. An agreeable prospect! + +As the true inwardness of the position began to dawn on her, in +phantasmagoric procession the events of the previous night +flashed across her mind. The letter to her husband--to Gregory +Lamb--which she had opened and read, the letter with the +Islington post-mark, containing the curt refusal to accord him +further help; the resolution to leave him, which she had +instantly arrived at after its perusal; her visit to Mrs. +Macconichie's sitting-room; her forcible entry into the china +cupboard; her abstraction of the canvas bag from the tobacco +jar. + +At this point, her thoughts branching off in another direction, +she felt, gingerly enough, for it seemed that movement of any +sort meant pain, under the bolster, and produced from it the +bag in question and the glove in which she had secreted the +wedding-ring. The sight of the ring started her thoughts +travelling again. + +To her flight through the darkness, with the leather handbag. By +the way, what had become of that bag? She had no recollection of +having done anything with it. Possibly she had put it down when +she had sprained her ankle, and, in her trouble, had forgotten +its existence; in which case it might be still upon the moor. If +it were found, and nothing could be learned of her, what +deductions would be drawn? She wondered. One thing was certain, +it contained all her worldly possessions. Without it she had not +so much as a pocket-handkerchief, not to speak of such a +necessity of existence as a brush and comb. + +Then the trap had come through the night, and borne her to the +house in which she lay. There she had been married to a man upon +his death-bed. Such a man and such a death-bed! Could it be +possible? She clenched her fists, and asked herself if the whole +business had not been the wild imaginings of some disordered +dream. Even to herself she could not furnish a satisfactory +answer. + +Why had she suffered herself to be dragged through such a +farce?--to play a part in such an odious scene? Because that old +man who called himself a doctor had told her that the creature +would be dead within two hours, and that then she would be +richer by twenty thousand pounds. Twenty thousand pounds! Could +that part of the tale be possible? Why, in that case, this +house, the very room in which she was, the queer furniture which +filled it, all might be hers. She would be a wealthy woman, who +had won her wealth so easily without incurring risk worth +mention. Because, even in the storm and stress of the moment, +she had understood that bigamy was bigamy, even though one of +the marriages into which she had entered was a Scotch one. Of +course, nothing could make that marriage of the night before a +real one, since she was a wife already. But, as the man was +dead, and she was supposed to be his widow, if fortune favoured +her the truth never need come out. She believed that she was +clever enough to conceal it--at any rate from whom it was worth +her while to do so. Only let her get hold of the twenty thousand +pounds, or so much of it as could be turned into ready cash--let +them find out afterwards what they chose--they would find it +hard to get the money back from her. Twenty thousand pounds! She +fancied herself letting go of such a sum as that if she once had +it in her grip! + +The first thing she had to do was to inform herself as fully as +possible as to the actual situation. If she was a widow, and her +husband had died without a will--he had certainly not made one +after marrying her, while the doctor had assured her that +marriage had rendered nugatory any he might have made +before--then this house, and all that it contained, if it had +been his property, was now hers. At least she hoped it was, +because, after a little muddled consideration, it began to occur +to her that, by English law, a wife did not necessarily inherit +all that a husband who had died intestate left behind him. +Exactly what share was hers she was not sure, but she had a more +or less dim conviction that it was less than the whole. The same +objectionable law might obtain in Scotland, or even a worse one. +The sooner she ascertained exactly how the ground lay the better +it would be for her peace of mind. So she began to call +attention to the fact that she was wide awake. Since there was +apparently no bell within reach, she had to make the best use of +her voice. + +"Nannie!" she called. "Nannie! Nannie!" And she kept on calling, +because there was none that answered. Her voice was a strong +one--she exerted it to the utmost--but it seemed that it was not +strong enough to reach any one outside that room. She shouted +till she was hoarse, and angry too, quite in vain; nothing +resulted. + +"If there's any one in the house they must hear me, and I expect +they do, only they don't choose to come. Oh, if it weren't for +this foot of mine! That Nannie's an insolent hag. She knows +perfectly well that I can't move, and thinks she can treat me as +she likes. If I could move I'd soon show her. Nannie! Nannie!" +She shouted till she could really shout no longer. No one came; +nor was there anything to show that she was heard. She began to +be possessed by a fresh alarm. "I wonder if the house is empty? +Suppose that old hag has gone off and left me alone in the house +with that--that dead man. I'll be bound she's quite capable of +doing it--old wretch! I shall starve to death! Nannie! Nannie!" + +But all the strength had gone out of her voice--it was not +strange that those muffled tones remained unheeded--a fact of +which she herself was conscious. At last, wholly exhausted, she +lay and thought hard things of every one. She was genuinely +hungry. She told herself that if some one did not come soon and +bring her food something would have to be done, though she had +not the faintest notion what. Self-help was out of the question; +she was as powerless to move as if she had been riveted to the +bed. + +She was rapidly reaching a despairing stage when Nannie entered +with a tray in her hand, quite calmly, as if it were the most +natural thing in the world that she should come just then and +not before. Isabel broke into angry expostulation. + +"Why have you kept me waiting. Why didn't you come before? You +must have heard me long ago--you're not stone deaf. I've +screamed myself hoarse." + +Nannie placed the tray upon a table. Then, with the most +matter-of-fact air, putting her arms about the angry woman, she +raised her to a sitting posture, arranging the pillows so that +they formed a prop for her back. Divided between indignation and +bewilderment, Isabel submitted in silence; she was so helpless, +the old woman's manner was so masterful, that to expostulate +seemed vain. The tray was put beside her on the coverlet, Nannie +observing-- + +"When you've eaten your fill I'll come and take a look at that +foot of yours". + +"It's ever so much worse. I've been in agony--and am still. I +believe I've broken a bone." + +"Not you; it's no but a sprain." + +"It's more than a sprain--much more, I'm convinced of it. +Where's Dr. Twelves? He ought to attend to it at once. He said +he would come and see me. Why hasn't he been?" + +"He's been and gone hours ago." + +"Been and gone! Why didn't you let me know that he was here?" + +"What for should I let you know?" + +"You knew that I wished to see him." + +"You never said it; and, anyway, he never said that he was +wishing to see you." + +"You're taking advantage of me! You think I'm at your mercy, and +that you can do as you like with me because I can't move! You're +a wicked old woman!" + +"Am I? Then I'm reckoning that age is the only difference there +is between us." + +Burning words flamed to Isabel's lips, but she had enough +prudence and self-control not to allow them to go any farther. +She was at the other's mercy, and she knew it. The only way to +obtain from her some slight consideration was to endeavour to +appease, not anger her. Instead of giving her anger vent, she +put to her a question, the one she had put the night before. + +"Is my husband dead?" + +She received what was practically the same answer. + +"Didn't I tell you that for that you must ask Dr. Twelves, since +he's knowing when folks are dead better than me?" + +Without affording Isabel another opportunity to speak Nannie +left the room. + +If the new Mrs. Grahame could have got out of bed there would +have been some lively doings. It is not impossible that Nannie +would have found that she had met her match. When that lady was +really roused, and had a fair chance to show it, she was a +difficult person to deal with. But she was, literally, held by +the leg; as incapable of doing what she would have liked to have +done as if she had been an infant in arms. + +When, after an interval of no long duration, the ancient +servitor returned, Isabel did treat her to what she meant to be +a taste of her claws. For all the effect she produced she might +have saved herself the trouble. The Scotchwoman evinced a serene +indifference to anything she might say or do, which influenced +her more than she would have cared to own. Then the pain she +endured was exquisite. Nannie's ministrations were deft enough. +She set about her task like one who understood well what she had +to do, and was capable of doing it. She removed the bandages, +bathed the injured foot, applied hot poultices; so far as Isabel +was able to judge, did all that could be done. But the most +delicate touches could not prevent her suffering agony. By the +time the other had finished her anger was forgotten. All she +desired was rest--peace--to be left alone. + +For seven days Isabel remained, willy-nilly, in bed. All the +time the only person she saw was Nannie. Dr. Twelves never came +near her. Whether the fault was his or her attendant's was more +than she could determine. She heard no news of any sort or kind. +Nothing could be got out of Nannie. No answers to any of her +questions; only the fewest possible words on unimportant +subjects. + +It is true that during the first two or three days her ankle +gave her so much trouble, her sufferings from it were so +intense, that she was, in a measure, content to be left alone +and in ignorance. But as the pain lessened her impatience, and +indignation, grew apace. More than once she attempted to get out +of bed and to start on a voyage of exploration through the house +to acquire information on her own account. Since, however, her +attempts only resulted in disaster, and it was made plain that +they only postponed her convalescence, common-sense gained the +upper hand. She resolved to endure with as much calmness as she +could command till the time arrived when, at least to some +extent, she should again be mistress of her own powers of +locomotion. + +After the longest week she had ever known she decided that that +time was not far off. She informed Nannie that, since her foot +was now on the high road to recovery, on the morrow she would be +capable of getting out of bed, and that, therefore, get out of +bed she would. Nannie, as was her wont, kept silence when this +piece of information was vouchsafed to her. But that she was +impressed by it was evident when on the morrow in question, +instead of the old woman, Dr. Twelves came into the room. It +seemed as if Nannie must have told him that the time had now +come when it was desirable that he should make his re-entry on +the scene. At least that was the conclusion at which, at sight +of him, the lady in the bed instantly arrived. + + + + + CHAPTER V + + A CONVERSATION WITH THE DOCTOR + + +"So you've come, have you, at last! I suppose that old hag told +you you had better before I came to you? I should have come in +half an hour." + +That was the greeting the angry lady accorded her tardy visitor. + +Dr. Twelves seemed to be in no haste to answer. Coming to within +a foot or two of her bed-side he stood and eyed her. He looked +very old in the daylight, older than she had thought he was. +Short; thin to the point of emaciation. There was something +almost sinister in his attitude, in the way in which, inclining +his head a little forward, his arms held close to his sides, he +examined her keenly, as if he were some bird of prey, and she an +object on which he was doubtful whether or not to pounce. As she +gave him glance for glance she understood that this was a person +who was not so frail as he might at first sight appear. But want +of courage was not a deficiency which could justly be laid to +the lady's charge. When he did reply it was with a question. + +"Why do you speak to me like that?" + +"You know very well why! You promised that first night that you +would attend to my foot; but though I've asked for you again and +again you've never been near me once, till you were afraid that +I should be after you." + +"You've been in good hands. Nannie has done all for you that I +could have done." + +"I don't doubt that." + +"Then of what do you complain?" + +"You've kept me a prisoner." + +"Kept you a prisoner! I! Madam, you jest. Has not your foot had +something to do with your confinement? Is it not holding you a +prisoner still?" + +"It won't do long, so don't you think it. I'll be out and about +before the day's over, and when I am I'll make things hum. Is my +husband dead?" + +"Your husband?" + +"My husband! Are you deaf?" + +"No, madam, not yet. So far age has not robbed me of my hearing. +But to whom do you refer when you speak of your husband?" + +There was that in the fashion in which he asked the question +which caused her to clench her fists, tighten her lips and +descend to vulgarity--unfortunately an easy descent for her to +make when her temper waxed warm. + +"What are you playing at? Do you think you're clever, or that +I'm an utter fool? You're wrong if you do, you may take it from +me. Is my husband, Cuthbert Grahame, dead? I've not been able to +get an answer out of that old harridan, but I'll get one out of +you." + +"Then is Cuthbert Grahame your husband?" + +"Is he! Isn't he? Didn't he marry me the other night in front of +you and that old woman?" + +"Have you a certificate or any writing to show it?" + +"A certificate! What do I want with a certificate? You said +nothing about a certificate! Look here, old man, don't you try +to play any fool-tricks with me, or you'll be sorry. Are you +trying to make out that he's not my husband?" + +"Not at all; I am trying to do nothing. I should like to ask you +a question, to which, before you answer it, I would suggest that +you should give a little careful consideration. Would you rather +be Cuthbert Grahame's wife or not?" + +"I am his wife, and you very well know it, so it's no use +talking, and that's enough said. I ask you again, is my husband +dead?" + +"Your husband? That is the point which I am gradually +approaching. Mr. Cuthbert Grahame is not dead." + +Her jaw dropped open. + +"Not dead?" + +"Not dead." + +"But you told me----" + +"Precisely; I am aware that I told you. You will, however, +remember that I made an express reservation in favour of a +miracle. The miracle has happened." + +"How long will he live?" + +"Madam, I am not omniscient. I have once, within your knowledge, +failed as a prophet; I should not care to fail again." + +"Is he dying?" + +"I may venture to say that, at the present moment, to the best +of my knowledge and belief, he is not." + +"You are beating about the bush. You can at least say if he is +likely to live long." + +"It is possible, madam, that he may outlive me--even you." + +"Then you have cheated me!--cheated me! You have got me into +this mess by your lies." + +"Any injustice I may have done you was unintentional. You will +also be so good as to observe that I have just now offered you +something which was intended to be in the nature of a loophole +out of the dilemma in which you are placed." + +"You mean when you asked me if I wanted to be his wife. Am I his +wife, or am I not?" + +"It might present a pretty point for the lawyers. If you had +chosen to repudiate the connection, it might not have been easy +to establish. Nannie and I can hold our tongues--that I beg you +to believe. The occasion for a wife having passed, he might have +preferred to hold his too." + +"Would he rather be unmarried?" + +"That is not a matter on which I should care to positively +pronounce." + +"Then why was he so eager?" + +"I explained at the time. He had made a will in favour of a +certain person, which he desired to render ineffective; marriage +makes null and void any will which a man may have previously +made; under the circumstances that seemed to be the easiest and +the shortest way out of it. As matters have turned out the +measure seems to have been a little drastic, since he can now, +if he chooses, make a dozen new wills each day." + +"Is he so far recovered as that?" + +The doctor seemed desirous to consider before he answered. He +put up his long, thin hand to stroke his bristly chin. Moving a +few steps, he leaned over the foot of the bed, and from that +point attentively regarded her. + +"Madam, I do not wish to trouble you with the medical names of +all the complicated diseases with which Mr. Grahame is +afflicted. I am not sure that I am myself acquainted with them +all; some of them puzzle even me. Among other troubles he is +paralysed. He cannot move hand or foot of his own volition, or +crook a finger. Again, straying into the paths of prophecy, I +dare assert that he never will be able to. He has his +senses--after a fashion; he is sane--also after a fashion. That +is, he is legally capable of making a will, or of taking a wife. +But if he desires to affix his signature to a document a pen +will have to be placed between his fingers, his hand will have +to be guided. To that extent he has recovered, beyond that he +almost certainly will never go." + +"But he is not dying?" + +"No, madam, he is not dying." + +"Nor likely to die?" + +"No office would insure his life for four-and-twenty hours, +though it is quite within the range of possibility that the +breath may continue in his body for years. Such cases have been +known. Some people death takes at the first call; some have to +be called again and again; some seem to go beyond the portal and +yet return. Cuthbert Grahame is one of them. He'll not go till +death is very much in earnest; when that will be I cannot say. I +mistook death's mood the other night--the oldest of us make such +mistakes at times. In this case my mistake may seem to press a +little hardly upon you." + +She looked at him askance. There was a whimsical gravity in his +tone which was a little beyond her comprehension, a something +which was almost sympathetic. She changed the subject; a fresh +intonation had come into her voice also. + +"I wish you'd look at my foot. It's better. I think that before +long I'll be able to get about again as usual. I want to very +much; it's awful being a prisoner in bed. I'm not good at +keeping still." + +He did as she requested, then pronounced a verdict. + +"Your foot is better--much better, as you say. There is no +reason why you should not get up, though it may be some little +time before you have the entire use of it again." + +"At any rate I'll get out of bed--at once." + +"And, then, what do you propose to do when you are up?" + +"I'm going to see my husband." + +"Your husband?" + +"Can't I? Why can't I?" + +"Mrs. Grahame!--if it is your wish that you should be Mrs. +Grahame." + +"Aren't I Mrs. Grahame? If I am, what's the good of pretending +that I'm not? I am Mrs. Grahame, so there's an end of it." + +"Mrs. Grahame, haven't you any friends?" + +"What do you mean by friends?" + +"Haven't you any relatives? Is there no one to whom you are near +and dear? no one to whom you are in any sense responsible for +your actions; with whom in a measure your happiness or +unhappiness must be shared?" + +"No one in this world!" + +He smiled at her vehemence, observing her closely all the time. + +"Since I am, in a degree, responsible for the--we will call it +situation--you are in, I am not unnaturally desirous of having +my conscience as clear as I conveniently can. I would, +therefore, beg you earnestly to let the first thing you do be +this: If you have--we will say an acquaintance--on whose +judgment you can rely, write to him; lay the facts before him +clearly, and await his response before you take any further step +whatever--certainly before you seek to have an interview with +Mr. Grahame." + +"There is no such person." + +"It is unfortunate, since you are so young, and, therefore +necessarily, so inexperienced, that you should be so entirely +alone in the world. Will you allow me to offer you some advice?" + +"What's the use? I've had enough of your advice already--too +much." + +"How do you make out your case? I am unconscious of having +offered you any advice." + +"You advised me to marry that man." + +"I advised you!" + +"Of course you did. There are more ways than one of offering +advice; you chose the roundabout way. You told me that if I +married him he'd be dead inside two hours, then I'd be richer by +twenty thousand pounds. This is what comes of acting on your +tip! No thank you. I've had enough and to spare of your advice; +now and henceforward I'm going to act upon my own." + +"None the less I'm going to give you a piece of advice--of very +sincere advice. You have been subjected to some slight +inconvenience--though, perhaps, inconvenience is hardly the +proper word." + +"I should think not." + +"My advice to you is: When your foot permits leave this house--I +assure you it is not a pleasant one to live in; accept a +reasonable sum by way of compensation; then blot the whole +episode from your memory." + +"What do you call a reasonable sum?" + +"Say a hundred pounds." + +"A hundred pounds?--the idea! when you talked of twenty +thousand! None of your kid's talk for me! Look here, Dr. +Twelves, you're an old fox. Don't you think I don't know it +however hard you try to play the lamb? You've got some game of +your own on. I don't know what it is, but I soon will. If you +offer me a hundred pounds to go, I'm dead sure it'll be worth a +good deal more than that to me to stay--and I'm going to stay! +This is my house; I'm the mistress here; and all the more the +mistress because my husband's a rich man who can't look after +himself. I'll look after him! I'll show you who's who and what's +what!--and every one else as well!--you can take that straight +from me!" + +As he rubbed his chin, as if he found comfort in the feel of the +bristles, the doctor's smile grew more pronounced. + +"Content, Mrs. Grahame, content! Only--still a further scrap of +advice!--postpone your first call on your husband till you are +able to move about as you please." + +This piece of advice the lady did act upon, for the simple +reason that she was powerless to do otherwise. When she did get +out of bed it was agony to hop even as far as the couch. Three +more days passed before she was able to stand without flinching +overmuch; another whole week had gone before she was able to +hobble unaided to the door. + +During that time she perhaps suffered more than she had done +while she was still in bed. To her restless nature the +compulsory inaction was almost unendurable. Her desire to attack +the problem which confronted her, to solve it if she could--at +any rate to learn what really was the position in which she +stood--possessed her like a consuming fever. Nothing could be +got out of Nannie; she was impervious to questions of every sort +and kind. Arguments, coaxing, threats, alike were unavailing. +The old woman could scarcely have been more taciturn had she +taken on herself a vow of silence. And after that one visit she +saw no more of Dr. Twelves; she could even hear nothing of him +from Nannie. That angered her almost more than anything, that he +should seem to ignore her so completely! She swore to herself +that he should smart for it before very long. + +During that week she laid up a fund of resentment against both +the doctor and Nannie which she promised herself she would pour +forth upon their heads at the earliest possible moment. Only let +her be able to get about again as of old, and they should see! + +On the eighth day she decided that her time had come, or, at +least, that it had begun to come. She said nothing to Nannie, +but having proved by actual experiment that she could move about +with comparative ease, she dressed herself, waited till the old +woman had paid her her usual morning call, then set out on a +voyage of exploration. Hobbling to the door, she opened it as +quietly as possible, then stood and listened She could hear +Nannie moving about downstairs. Then she moved towards the door +which was on the opposite side of the landing. Had she had a +stick on which to lean her progress might have been quicker. In +spite of her reiterated requests Nannie had failed to provide +her with one. Without support of any sort she moved very slowly. +But she did get to her destination at last. She laid her hand +upon the handle, paused a moment to learn if her movements had +been observed, then turned it as quietly as she could. + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + HUSBAND AND WIFE + + +She stood just inside the threshold of the room, with the handle +of the open door between her fingers, and listened. She had +moved so noiselessly that, quite possibly, to the ear alone her +entry had been imperceptible. She looked about her, recalling +the picture which it had presented to her mind on that first +night. For some reason which she would have found it hard to +explain a shiver passed all over her; a sudden chill seemed to +penetrate to her very bones. + +The room looked different by daylight, the windows wide open, +the sun sending wide, warm splashes of yellow light from wall to +wall. One of them came right at her as she remained there +motionless. As she lifted her face she was blinded by the glare. +It was odd that she should shiver in that glow of sunshine. +Everything was so neat and orderly; there was such an absence of +any signs of occupation, such complete stillness prevailed, that +her first impression was that she had in some way made a +mistake; that the room was empty. It was only when her wandering +glance reached the great bed, which stood in such a position +that it was partially screened by the door which she still held +open, that she understood. + +Its occupant was asleep, or--he was so motionless, so silent, +her own heart seemed to cease beating--could he be dead? With +unexpected ease she moved closer to the bed. No, he certainly +was not dead; he merely slept, to all appearance, as peacefully +as a little child. + +Sleep produced no improvement in his looks. She went still +nearer, so that, by leaning over, she could examine him in +detail. + +The conviction which she had had at first sight of him recurred +with, if anything, even greater force. Beyond a doubt she had +never seen a more unprepossessing-looking man. She had an almost +morbid liking for good looks in a man. Gregory Lamb's handsome +face had had almost as much to do with winning her as his lying +tongue, which dowered him with splendid wealth. Her ideas of +good looks were probably her own--Gregory was there to show it. +But her attachment to them was so marked that she could with +difficulty be civil to a man who was positively plain. An +absolutely ugly man was to her an object of aversion; her first +feeling towards such an one was actual physical repulsion, as if +he were some unclean thing. + +There could be no sort of doubt as to the ugliness of the man in +the bed. His huge size was in itself a sufficiently unpleasant +feature. It lent to him an uncomfortable aspect which was almost +inhuman. He seemed to have swelled and swelled till his skin had +become as tight as a drum. One had a disagreeable notion that if +one pricked him, like some distended bladder, he would burst. He +was all bloated, not only his body, but his head as well, and, +above all, his neck. She had once had an aunt who had died of +dropsy. This man seemed dropsical from the crown of his head to +the tip of his toe--monstrously dropsical. + +Nor was his appearance improved by the manner in which his head +and face were covered with long sandy red hair, growing in +scanty tufts, with bare spaces in between. The hair matched ill +with his complexion, which was brick red, tinged, as it were, +with a suggestion of pallid blue. He slept so quietly that it +was difficult to be sure, at first sight, that his condition was +one of slumber, not death. As Isabel bent over, she did not +hesitate to tell herself that she wished he was as dead as he +seemed. The sight of him afflicted her with such a sensation of +aversion that she was then and there filled with an almost +irresistible desire to crush him out of existence, as if +he had been some loathsome reptile. She was possessed by a +shrewd suspicion that she had only to strike him a hearty +blow--anywhere!--to bring him to an end upon the spot. It would +be so easy. She had been tricked; he ought to have been dead ere +then. What was the use of such a creature living, and what +enjoyment could he get out of life? Where should she strike him? +She clenched her fist as if it had been actuated by an +involuntary tightening of the muscles. As she did so, he opened +his eyes, and looked at her. + +It was a curious moment for both of them--so both of them seemed +to think. There was in his gaze such a take-it-for-granted air +that one could not but wonder if he had not been conscious of +her presence even while he slept. The sight of a strange woman +leaning over his bed, with such a queer expression on her +countenance, did not seem to surprise him in the least. That she +was strange to him was plain. He seemed to be searching in his +muddy brain for some clue which would tell him who she was. The +search did not seem to be meeting with much success. + +For probably more than a minute they continued to look at each +other, the contrast between the fashion of their looks being +almost grotesque in its completeness. Her bold, handsome face +was, at the same time, illuminated by keen intelligence, and +marked by an expression of vindictiveness which gave it an +unpleasanter effect than if it had been actually ugly. His face, +on the other hand, was vacuous, expressionless; more, it was +incapable of expression. It reminded one, in some uncomfortable +way, of a piece of blubber, without form and void. + +The eyes, particularly in comparison with the rest of him, were +small; with the exception of the pupils they were blood-shot. +One wondered how much, or how little, they could see; they +regarded Isabel blankly, as if she had been a wooden doll. + +After an inspection which lasted, as it seemed, an unnatural +length of time, it was he who broke the silence. His voice was a +little clearer than when she had heard it first, but not much. +It still had the peculiar quality of appearing to belong to some +one who was at a distance. + +"Who are you?" + +There was a significant pause before she answered. In her tone +was significance of another kind. + +"I'm your wife." + +Either her words took him by surprise, or he did not gather what +she meant, or disliked what he did gather. He was still again, +as if ruminating on what she had said. When he did speak the +remark he made was a little startling. + +"Damn you!" + +The unparliamentary utterance, especially as addressed to a +lady, was accentuated by the matter-of-fact stolidity which +marked it. It was not impossible that for a moment or two she +was moved to give him back as good as he sent--and better. +Possibly, however, the impulse was changed, as regards form, in +the making. Instead of imitating the vigour of his epithet, she +cut at him with a lash of her own. + +"You're my husband." It would have been difficult for the +strongest language to have been more scathing than her plain +pronouncement of a simple fact. As if desirous of driving her +dart still further home, she repeated her own words, with an +even added bitterness--"You're my husband!--you!" + +It would appear that the man, object as he was, was not without +some sense of humour, and, also, that his feelings were not of +the kind which are unduly sensitive. After what seemed to be due +consideration of her words, he endorsed their correctness with a +brevity which in itself was eloquent. + +"I am." + +There was something in the two little monosyllables which seemed +to sting her more than his curse had done. She gave a movement, +as if she were disposed to let her resentment take some active +and visible form. But, again, maybe, her impulse changed in the +making; she endeavoured to put a meaning into her repetition of +a simple statement, which should make it strike him with greater +force than a blow could have done. + +"I am your wife." + +Once more he showed himself to be her match in the game of give +and take. Hardly were the words out of her mouth than he +endorsed them again, with what was almost like the semblance of +a grin upon his blubber-like face. + +"You are." + +"And I propose to let you see that I'm your wife." + +"No doubt." + +"Your real, actual wife, not a puppet, a thing you can pull by a +string." + +"Quite so." + +"You may imagine, perhaps, that I'm a mere dummy, an automaton, +which can be set in movement only when you choose. If you do, +you're wrong, as I intend to show you, Mr. Cuthbert Grahame." + +"Precisely, Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame." + +It seemed, for an instant, as if a torrent of words was +trembling at the tip of her tongue, needing but a touch to set +them loose; if so, the touch did not come. Turning, she went and +stood by an open window; resting her hand on the sill she leaned +out, as if she needed fresh air. She looked out on to a garden +which was evidently of considerable size, but which sadly needed +attention. The grass could not have been cut for months; it +competed with weeds for possession of the footpaths. There were +flowers, but they needed pruning; the weeds threatened to +choke them in their own beds. Beyond, the ground rose; +everywhere the slopes were covered with trees, pines for the +most part--scarcely a cheerful framework to what was already +bidding fair to become a scene of desolation. In spite of the +sweet, clean air and of the brilliant sunshine, in her +surroundings, as she saw them, there was a hint of something +uncongenial, unfriendly, which did not tend to make her mood a +gayer one. + +While she still seemed to be absorbing the spirit of the +landscape, Mr. Grahame's voice came to her out of the bed. + +"I want to speak to you." + +She heard him, but it was not until he had repeated the same +sentence three times that she chose to favour him with her +attention. Bringing her head back into the room she turned her +face slightly towards the speaker. + +"Well?" + +"Why did you marry me?" + +"Because I was told that you would be dead inside two hours." + +Although the reply was brutal in its plainness, it did not seem +to hurt him in the least--indeed, it seemed rather to amuse him. + +"That's a poor reason. What were you to gain by my death?" + +"Dr. Twelves told me that I should have twenty thousand pounds." + +"Did he? I see. That was the bait. You're a ready-witted young +woman." + +"You mean that you think I'm a fool." + +"Not at all; no more than the rest of your sex, or, for the +matter of that, of mine. We're all fools; only some of us are +fools of a special brand. Who are you?" + +"I'm your wife." + +"You've told me that already. I mean who were you before you +were my wife?" + +She moved her hand to and fro, restlessly, upon the window sill. + +"I've half a mind to tell you." + +"Make it a whole one. Yours should be a story not without +features of interest. Besides, a husband ought to know something +about his wife." + +She stood up straighter, her back to the window, looking towards +the bed with gleaming eyes. It was evidently easier to provoke +her to an exhibition of temper than him. + +"I'll tell you nothing. I'm your wife; that's all I'll tell you; +and that ought to be enough." + +"It is--more than enough. You're an embodied epigram. I think I +can guess at part of your story." The indifferent, almost +assured tone in which he said it brought her near to wincing. +"My eyes are not so bright as they were--no, not so bright--but +they're bright enough to enable me to perceive that you're +young, and not bad-looking--after a sufficiently common type. +You appear to be one of those big, bouncing, blusterous, +bonny--four b's--young females who spring out of the gutter by +the mere force of their own vitality; who push and elbow +themselves through life with but one thing continually in +view--self. You're probably ill-bred, ignorant, impudent and +imbecile--four i's--four which are apt to go together--and, in +consequence, blundering along rather than advancing by any +reasonable method of progression, you'll keep tumbling into +ditches and scrambling out again, until you tumble into one +which will be too deep for you to scramble out of, and in that +you'll lie for ever." + +To hear him, in his dim, distant, uninterested tones, mapping +out, as it were, a chart of her life and conduct, affected her +unpleasantly. When he had finished she had to pull herself +together before she could deliver a retort which she was +conscious was sufficiently futile. + +"I daresay you think yourself clever." + +"I'm afraid you're disappointed. If I'm not altogether to be +congratulated on having you for a wife, neither are you to be +altogether congratulated on having me for a husband." + +"Congratulated! My stars!" + +"Exactly--your lucky stars. Come, I've drawn a little fancy +sketch of the kind of wife you appear to me to be; tell me, what +kind of husband do you think I am?" + +"Think! I don't think; I'm sure you're a monster. You ought to +be in Barnum's show--that's where you ought to be." + +"That is your candid opinion? Your tone has the ring of genuine +candour. It's an illustration of how one changes. Would you +believe that once--not so long ago--I was remarkable for my good +looks as well as my figure?" + +"Tell that for a tale!" + +"I'm telling it for a tale that is told--and over. It must have +been a disappointment when you learned that I was not dead." + +"It was. I could have shook old Twelves when he told me. Perhaps +I'll do it yet." + +"Will you? That will be nice for Twelves. I should like to be +present at the shaking. You look as if you could shake him." + +"I should think I could--shake the bones right out of his body. +I'm as strong as a horse--stronger than most men. I once thought +of coming out as a strong woman, only I didn't fancy the +training." + +"Didn't you? By training do you mean clean and healthy living? +Is that what you disliked?" + +She had already repented her lapse into the autobiographical. + +"Never you mind what I mean." + +"We won't; why should we? May I take it that you have got over +the disappointment of not finding me dead, and have become +reconciled to the idea of my living?" + +"You don't look to me as if you would live long, considering +that you're as good as dead already." + +"You think so. We've not been long at arriving at that stage of +perfect candour which, I fancy, marks the career of the average +husband and wife. I think you're wrong. I am one of those beings +who are very tenacious of life. I'm only fifty, whatever I may +look. There's no real reason--your friend Dr. Twelves will tell +you--why I shouldn't live another five-and-twenty years." + +"I don't care what he says after what he told me. I'll bet you +don't." + +"Suppose I do, would you propose to spend them with me?" + +"I should do as I like." + +"I begin to suspect you'd try to. Let me put the case in another +way. What would you want to leave this house and never re-enter +it again?" + +"Twenty thousand pounds." + +"Is that your lowest figure?" + +"It is." + +"Thank you. I will give the matter my careful consideration. In +the meanwhile may I ask you to leave me for a time? My +conversational powers soon become exhausted; with them I am apt +to become exhausted too. A little rest might do you good." + +"Listen to me. I came here so that you and I might understand +each other." + +"We have gone some distance in that direction, haven't we?" + +"I don't think you have, or you wouldn't talk to me like that. +It may be clever, and cutting, and that kind of thing, but I +don't like it. I'm your wife, your equal, more than your equal, +since you're lying there like a log, already more than three +parts dead. I'm the mistress of this house; this room is as much +mine as yours." + +"Is it?" + +"It is. That's what you've got to understand. When I choose to +leave it I will, but not a moment before. So don't you order me +about, because I don't intend to let you, and there'll be +trouble if you try." + +"Am I to understand when I ask you to leave the room, my +bedroom, in spite of your courteous hint of a moment back, that +you refuse?" + +"You are; you bet you are. And you're to understand more than +that; you're to understand that if you're not careful what airs +and graces you take on with me, I'll stuff a handkerchief into +your mouth. Then we'll see what you'll do next. A helpless lump +like you to talk to me--your lawful wife!--as if I were nothing +and no one. I'll soon show you." + +"Will you? Maybe you'll first be shown a thing or two yourself, +my lady!" + +The tones were familiar. They were not those of the man in the +bed. Looking round Isabel found that Nannie was glaring at her +from the other side of the room. + + + + + CHAPTER VII + + A TUG OF WAR + + +Perceiving that Isabel made no reply, Nannie addressed her +again, with both in her manner and her words perhaps a +superfluity of truculence. + +"What for have you left your room and come here disturbing Mr. +Grahame, you bold-faced hussy?" + +Nannie's appearance and the vigour of her speech, both of which +were probably a trifle unexpected, seemed to take Isabel +somewhat aback. It was not unlikely that a rapid debate was +taking place in her mind as to what exactly was the _role_ it +was most advisable that she should play. + +One point was obvious, that the moment had come when it would +have to be decided, possibly finally, just what position in the +household hers was going to be. If she was to be its real +mistress--as she had boasted that she was, and would be!--then +it was out of the question that Nannie should be allowed to +speak to her in such terms as she had just employed. How was she +to be prevented? In her own way Isabel was not a bad judge of +character. In the course of her short life her adventures had +been so many and various that it had grown to be a habit to +measure herself against nearly every one with whom she was +brought in contact. Nannie was a dour old Scotchwoman. Isabel +was perfectly conscious that she was not likely to be +subdued--to the point to which she desired to bring her--by +words alone. She herself was wholly devoid of scruples. As to +self-respect, she was incapable of realising what it meant. She +had been brought up in a school in which that sort of thing was +not taught. Her early days had been spent among women who were +quite as ready to resort to physical force as the men, which was +saying not a little. As she had grown older she had never +hesitated to use her muscles when her tongue was beaten. She was +quick to perceive that this was a case in which she would have +to use her muscles again, if she did not wish to degenerate into +something worse than a figure-head in the house which she +aspired to rule. + +The only question she had to decide was whether she would be a +match for the Scotchwoman. It would be worse than vain to +challenge conclusions if she was likely to be proved the weaker. +Brief consideration, however, persuaded her that there was but +little fear of that. Her ankle was against her, and the fact +that she had been inactive for a fortnight. But, on the other +hand, though tough and brawny, Nannie might be old enough to be +her grandmother. Even though handicapped by her ankle, Isabel +did not doubt that she excelled her both in sheer strength and +in agility, while as to knowledge of how to make the best of her +powers she was convinced that, as compared with her, the other +was nowhere. + +She resolved to bring the question as to who was to be mistress +to an issue then and there--if necessary, in the presence of the +man in the bed. Instead of answering Nannie she put a question +to him. + +"Who is this objectionable old woman?" + +"My housekeeper." + +"Then, perhaps, you'll tell your housekeeper that, where I'm +concerned, if she can't keep a civil tongue in her head and mend +her manners, she won't be your housekeeper long--or mine +either." + +"Hadn't you better tell her so yourself?" + +"Does that mean you're afraid to?" + +"Never interfered in the housekeeping since the day I was born, +nor with Nannie either. She's always run this house as if it +were her own." + +"Then the sooner she understands that she's not going to do so +any longer the better it will be. If you won't make that plain +to her, then I will. Now, my woman, remember that I'm your +mistress, and that I'll stand impertinence from no one--least of +all from a servant of mine. Leave this room at once; I'll talk +to you when we're alone." + +Nannie seemed to be surprised almost into speechlessness by the +other's attitude and manner of addressing her. It was a second +or two before she could find words with which to illustrate her +feelings. + +"Of all the brazen impudence! That a nameless besom, picked up +from the roadside in the middle of the night, should have the +face to speak to me like that! And you to call yourself Mr. +Cuthbert's wife! Why, you're nothing but a shameless trollop! +And though the doctor said that Mr. Cuthbert was to be kept as +quiet as possible, if needs be I'll take you out of this room in +my two arms, as you well know I did before. So out you come +before I make you!" + +"Go it, Nannie!" + +The mocking encouragement from the man in the bed was to Isabel +as the final straw. She did not allow him to range himself, +before her face, on the woman's side. From words she proceeded +to measures. Traversing the room with a rapidity which wholly +ignored the twinges which proceeded from her injured ankle, she +planted herself immediately in front of Nannie. + +"Are you going to leave this room, or am I to put you out of +it?" + +"Me to leave Mr. Cuthbert's room, and ordered out of it by you! +It'll be you that'll be put out of it, and that pretty quick, +you----" + +Isabel did not wait for her to finish; she anticipated the +volley of compliments which had no doubt been intended to follow +by straightening her left arm in the most approved fashion, and +striking the other full on the nose with a vigour and +unexpectedness which caused the old woman to lose her balance +and go toppling over on to the floor. Before she had a chance to +recover, Isabel had the door wide open, and began bundling the +still prostrate Nannie unceremoniously through it. She was +conscious that words were proceeding from the man in the bed, +but what they were she neither knew nor cared. It was not her +intention, if she could help it, to continue the proceedings in +his room. Having got the other out of the room somehow, she shut +the door behind her, determined to let him know as little of +what was to follow as circumstances would permit, at any rate +till all was over. + +Then she waited for Nannie to rise, which she did with an +agility which did credit to her years. As the other had possibly +foreseen, the old woman was beside herself with rage. She rushed +blindly at her opponent, who was at once cooler and more +experienced in little discussions of the kind. Although hampered +by her ankle she had no difficulty in evading the other's mad +onrush, at least sufficiently long to enable her to receive her +with a hail of blows directed impartially at her face and body. +The proceedings had only lasted a few seconds, and were waxing +momentarily warmer, when they were interrupted by some one who +ascended the stairs. It was Dr. Twelves. As was only natural, +being very far from edified by the spectacle by which he was +confronted, he raised his voice to remonstrate. + +"What does this mean? Have you two women gone mad, that you +behave like drunken fishwives? Nannie!--Mrs. Grahame!--shame on +you!" + +Nannie, who had been severely pommelled, and had so far got much +the worst of it, abstained, for the moment, from her attempts to +return some of the marks of esteem with which she had been +presented, and proceeded to vouchsafe some sort of explanation. +As, however, she talked at the top of her voice, which failed +her badly, and had to stop at uncomfortably short intervals to +gasp, it was rather difficult to make out what she said, and +when that was done it was not easy to join her observations with +each other and supply them with a meaning. + +"Put me out of Mr. Cuthbert's room!--ordered me out!--hit me in +the face, that had never been laid hands on by any but my +mother!--knocked me about as if I were an old rag-bag!--a +bold-faced besom that's nothing in the world but the clothes she +stands in!--and less character than that!--before I've done with +her I'll strip her to her impudent skin!" + +Nannie proceeded to do it. The attempt could scarcely have been +called successful, because no sooner had she brought herself +within the reach of the other's dangerous left arm than she +received a smashing blow in the face which sent her staggering +backwards. The course of the combat had brought her near the +head of the stairs, uncomfortably near, as the event immediately +showed. Before she was able to recover herself, reaching the +topmost stair, she went crashing down it on to the doctor who +stood remonstrating below. Luckily for him he was on the bottom +step but one, so that he had time to move somewhat aside before +she was in his immediate neighbourhood. As it was she sent him +cannoning with uncomfortable violence against the wall, while +she herself came toppling on to the landing with a bang which +shook the house. + +Silence followed--a speaking silence. Above was Isabel, a really +striking figure, as, with flushed cheeks, flaming eyes, clenched +fists, straightened arms, she stared down on her victim in the +depths below. The doctor, more startled than hurt, seemed to be +in two minds what to do or say. With one eye, as it were, he +looked at Isabel up above, and with the other at Nannie down +below. At last he spoke, addressing himself to the triumphant +figure up above. + +"For all you know you may have killed her." + +"It will serve her right if I have!" came the defiant response. + +That she was not killed was soon made plain by Nannie herself. + +"She's broken my leg!--and I'll be bound half the bones in my +body!--the she-devil! Oh, doctor, what'll I do?" + +There came the voice from above. + +"You'll stop that noise! and if you're wise you'll cut out your +tongue! Because the next time you say a rude thing to me, or of +me, as sure as you're lying there, I'll have you dragged into +the road, and there you shall be left; you shall never set foot +inside this house again--I promise you that!" + +The doctor had been leaning over her, as if to ascertain the +nature of her injuries. + +"I believe you have broken her leg." + +"To be sure she has! Oh, doctor, doctor, I told you we'd rue the +day you brought her into the house!" + +"Next time I'll not be content with breaking half the bones in +her body--I'll break them all!" + +"Hush, woman! you forget yourself; have you no pity?" + +"I've pity for those who deserve it, but not for an unmannerly +servant who tries to bully her mistress, and then whines when +she herself gets thrashed instead! And look here, Dr. Twelves, +don't you think that I'm an ordinary woman, because I'm not----" + +"That I am rapidly beginning to believe." + +"Don't you interrupt me when I'm speaking, not even by attempts +to be smart, especially as you happen to be one of those silly +old men who are not meant to shine in that line. If you'd got an +ordinary woman into the mess you've got me by your lies and +humbug, I daresay you'd have been able to do as you liked with +her. I suppose that's what you and that old woman have been +reckoning on. But I want you to understand just once, and once +for all, that you're mistaken. It's going to be the other way +round; I'm going to play this game, in my way, not yours; I'm +going to do as I like with you. You'll take your instructions +from me, and from me only. If you want to be allowed on these +premises you'll treat me as a lady and as the mistress of the +house ought to be treated. Who's that down there? I heard you +sneaking about and listening! Come up here and let me look at +you." A shock-headed young woman appeared, followed, at a +respectful distance, by one still younger. "If you two are my +servants--and I suppose you are, or you wouldn't be there--if +that old woman can't walk alone pick her up, carry her to her +room and put her to bed, and leave her there; then go on with +your work and let me have no nonsense." + +All this time Nannie, who still lay motionless, had been +groaning in what was evidently genuine pain. The doctor, who had +been bending over her, remarked a little dryly:-- + +"I trust you will pardon me, Mrs. Grahame, but I think her leg +is broken". + +"Well, what of it? It's her fault, not mine; she's brought it on +herself. She may think herself lucky that her neck's not broken +after the way she's behaved. I'd have thrown her out of a window +if there'd been one handy, and it would have served her +thoroughly well right. I suppose you don't want her to lie +there, littering up the stairs, even if her leg is broken. She +carried me to my room as if I were a sack of potatoes, now they +shall carry her. Do you hear what I say, you two?" + +So Nannie was borne to her room with anything but the honours of +war. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII + + THE MINIATURE + + +Like some other persons, so long as she had her own way, and +nothing occurred to annoy her, Isabel could be quite agreeable. +Now that Nannie was laid low, and Dr. Twelves accorded her the +respect she demanded--at least outwardly, for she continually +suspected him of having his tongue in his cheek--she proceeded +to show that there was a side to her character which was not +altogether unpleasant. The household--what remained of +it--consisted of two raw damsels, whose English was of such a +quality that Isabel not infrequently found herself at a loss to +understand what they were saying. They made no secret of the +fact that they were by no means heart-broken at Nannie's +discomfiture. She had ruled them with a rod of iron, and they +were by no means sorry that some one had tried her hand at +ruling her--with distinctly solid results. Especially was this +the case when they learned that the new mistress was inclined to +be as lax as the dethroned one had been rigid. So long as the +work of the house was done--and there was not much of it as +Isabel managed things--they were free to do pretty well as they +chose, even to the extent of there being practically no watch +kept on their outgoings and incomings. + +The truth was that the new Mrs. Grahame was above all things +desirous that no watch should be kept on her. Most of her time +was spent in ransacking the house from top to bottom--an +occupation she enjoyed immensely, and found no little to her +profit. Now that Nannie was laid on her back, and--since at her +time of life a broken leg is no small matter--promised to remain +there for some time, there was no one to say her nay. Isabel +turned out every cupboard and every drawer; waded through every +scrap of writing they contained; appraised every article she +found--and, indeed, assembled quite a nice collection of what +she deemed the more valuable trifles in her own apartment, for +her personal use and consolation. She lighted on what, to her, +was a considerable sum of money. On this, she learned, Nannie +had been accustomed to draw for various current expenses. She, +of course, regarded it, there and then, as her own personal +property. + +Her first appearance out of doors took the form of a visit to a +neighbouring small town--not Carnoustie--where she purchased +such articles of attire as she imagined she required, together +with a trunk to contain them. These she paid for out of Nannie's +store. She did not think it necessary to inform Mr. Grahame how +she had used what was, after all, his money. She did not seem to +think it worth her while to tell him anything. + +Her mind was occupied with various problems. First and foremost, +she was extremely anxious to ascertain how much money the man +she called her husband actually had, where it was, and how it +could be got at, say by one who had a right to get at it. Almost +as if he were conscious of what was transpiring in her brain, +Cuthbert Grahame took advantage of an opportunity which arose, +or which he, perhaps, made himself, to volunteer some +information on the subject on his own account. The afternoon on +which the conversation took place would have been memorable for +something else, even if he had not seen fit to make her the +receptacle of some very interesting confidences. + +Isabel was an active young woman; healthy, full-blooded, +vigorous, one in whose veins the blood ran strong. Inaction to +her was punishment. So soon as her ankle permitted, and it +proceeded to a rapid and complete recovery, she spent a portion +of each day in taking the air--that portion of the day which was +not spent in prying into everything the house contained. As her +researches drew to a conclusion--as even the most thorough +investigation allowed them to do in time--that unoccupied +portion became more and more. So, having examined the inside of +the house she turned her attention to the outside, to learn that +her husband's estate was of considerable extent. She wandered up +and down it, to and fro, till she began to be almost as +intimately acquainted with it as with the contents of the +residence. One afternoon she was indulging in one of these +rambles when she received what really amounted to a shock. + +She was passing through one of the woods of which her husband's +property seemed chiefly to consist, and was resting on the bole +of a tree, when she heard the sound of wheels. She was perhaps +in a peculiar mood, because it immediately brought back to her +that night on which she had listened--with what an anxious +heart!--to the wheels of Dr. Twelves' approaching trap. +Passers-by, thereabouts, were few and far between; for days +together she would not encounter any. She had grown to love +seclusion, possibly for sufficient reasons of her own. She was +seated on a slope. The road began at the foot, perhaps thirty +feet away. She instinctively altered her position, so that, +while she could see herself, the trunk of the tree almost +entirely screened her from observation. She wondered who was +coming, peeping round to see. When she did see she drew back +with a start. + +In the dogcart which presently appeared was her husband--her +real husband--Gregory Lamb. The sight of him took her wholly by +surprise, and filled her with unwonted perturbation. What was he +doing there? What could have brought him to that neighbourhood? +She had taken it for granted that he had long since returned to +London. Even Mrs. Macconichie's--supposing he was still there, +which seemed unlikely--was a good twelve miles away. She was +conscious that he was not alone in the trap. Who his companion +was she had not noticed; she had not time. + +The vehicle drew rapidly level with the tree on which she +rested. She decided that she might venture to peep again, and +was just doing so when the horse shied so violently that the +cart was almost overturned. Recovering itself, apparently +getting the bit between its teeth, it bolted like a thing +possessed, and vanished from her sight, though not before she +had nearly convinced herself that the man with her husband--the +one who was driving--was Dr. Twelves. She had only seen him from +the back, and then had had but occasional glimpses through +intervening trees for half-a-dozen seconds, but she was almost +sure that it was he. There was, however, just a possibility that +she was mistaken, and it was that possibility which worried her. +She would have liked to have been certain, either one way or the +other. Then, in the case of the worst, she might have been +prepared. + +For the juxtaposition could but mean trouble for her. She was +too clear-sighted to delude herself with the notion that the +doctor was anxious to be a friend of hers. He had, to outward +seeming, accepted the situation; probably, in part, because, as +she herself put it, she was no ordinary woman; and partly +because, under the circumstances, considering the part which he +himself had played, he did not see what else there was for him +to do. Let him, however, learn how wholly baseless was her claim +to occupy the place which she had arrogated to herself, and she +did not for a moment doubt that he would use that knowledge to +oust her from it in the shortest possible space of time. + +The only two points on which she had her doubts were: Was it +really the doctor who was driving Gregory Lamb? and, if so, had +Gregory Lamb given him cause to even suspect the relation in +which she stood to him? On a third point there was no doubt--the +dogcart had been moving from, not towards the house, so that in +any case the peril was not actually approaching her now. + +Another thought suddenly occurred to her, one which set her +heart beating faster than was altogether agreeable. The doctor +and her husband might have been to the house already, in which +case danger might be awaiting her return to what she had learned +to call her home. + +That was a question which might be quickly resolved--she would +resolve it quickly. She started off homewards then and there, +telling herself as she went that, whatever had happened, or +might happen, they should only be rid of her on terms of her +own. + +It turned out that, so far, nothing had happened; to that +extent, at least, her agitation had been uncalled for. No one +had been near the house since she had left it; nothing had +happened which was in any way out of the common. The relief she +felt at learning even so much showed how real she had imagined +the danger was. With some vague idea of subjecting him to +cross-examination and learning if he had suspicions of her of +any sort or kind, so soon as she had removed her hat she paid a +visit to Cuthbert Grahame's room. + +As usual, he lay immobile between the sheets, preserving that +death-in-life rigidity which, it seemed, was to continue his +condition to the end. The sight of him struck in her an unwonted +note. + +"Don't you get tired of lying there?--especially on a day like +this, when the sun is shining and the breeze is stealing among +the trees and flowers?" + +She did not strike a responsive note in him. He was silent for +some seconds, then he asked, in his strange, far-away voice, +which was like a husky whisper-- + +"Aren't you well?" + +"Oh yes, I'm well enough. I'm only wondering if you're not tired +of being ill. It seems to me that you might as well be dead as +keep on lying there with only your voice alive--and that's +pretty nearly done for." + +She had returned to her more familiar mood. + +"Tired!--tired!" He repeated the word twice, then after an +interval went on: "What's the use of being tired of what has to +be? I'm tired of you, but it seems you have to be--so what's the +use?" + +"I don't see why you need be tired of me. I'm no more to you +than a chair or table." + +"You're my wife." + +"Your wife! It's because I'm your wife that I'm likely to get +tired instead of you. I'm not a helpless statue--I'm a woman; I +don't want a dead log--I want a man." + +"I was once a man." + +"You a man!" + +"Seems queer, doesn't it?" + +"I don't believe it." + +"Yet I was, physically, not a bad sample of a man. Now the Lord +knows what I am!--a husk, I suppose. There's a man inside me +somewhere still." + +"You look as if there were, and you sound it." + +She laughed, not pleasantly. It was one of her defects that her +laughter seldom had a pleasant sound, as if it were only the +spirit of malice which had power to move her to mirth. + +"You've confessed why you married me. Do you know why I wanted +to marry you, or any one? I'd have married your friend Nannie if +she'd agreed, but she refused point-blank." + +"Is that true?" + +"Quite. It was only when she persisted in her refusal that the +doctor thought of the woman he'd found in a ditch. Since +anything in the shape of a woman would serve he hauled you up +the stairs." She was still. She was standing in her favourite +position by the open window, looking out at the woods on the +slope of the hill. "Shall I tell you why, when already looking +into hell--and I had a good look, I promise you!--I wanted to +marry any one?" + +"I know." + +"Who told you?" + +"Dr. Twelves." + +"He seems to have imparted to you a good deal of useful +information. What did he tell you?" + +"That you'd made a will in some one's favour, which you wanted +to break, and that was the easiest way to break it." + +"Did he tell you who the some one was?" + +"No." + +"It was a woman. Do you hear--it was a woman!" + +"I hear." + +"A young woman--younger than you and prettier. Prettier? My God! +You're not bad-looking in a way, but there's a streak of the +vulgar in you now. No one could ever mistake you for a lady. +You're one of the blowzy sort; you'll become impossible; +hard-featured; flame-coloured cheeks; bold, staring eyes; huge, +unwieldy, gross. She!--she's the most perfect woman God ever +made, and she'll only improve as the years go by." + +"I've met that kind of woman before." + +"Not you. She's not to be found in the sort of society in which +you've moved." + +"She's to be found in the penny novelettes--never out of them. +You and your perfect women! In spite of her perfection you don't +seem to have found her all milk and honey, or you wouldn't have +been so keen to break that will of yours." + +"Do you know why I wanted to break it?" + +"Some silly nonsense. Because she tried to scratch your eyes +out, I daresay--serve you right if she did." + +"Because she wouldn't marry me." + +"Because----!" She stopped to burst into noisy, strident +laughter. "She must have been a fool. I should have thought any +one would have married you if you'd made it worth their while." + +"I told you that she was not the kind of woman you have ever +met; she's clean beyond your understanding. Put your hand +underneath my pillow--gently. You'll find a case; take it out." + +Isabel looked at him, hesitating, as if in doubt of his meaning, +then she did as he had told her. He was propped up on a nicely +graduated series of pillows. As she withdrew her hand, the case +between her fingers, she dragged one of the pillows with it +right from under the one on which his head reposed, so that, +denuded of its support, his head fell back. In a second he began +to choke before her eyes. His face grew bluer and bluer; the +veins stood out through his skin; he fought for breath; his +stertorous gasps shook him from head to foot. She raised his +head to its normal position, returning the pillow to its place. +As she watched him struggle back to what--to him--was life, she +laughed. + +"It wouldn't take long to make an end of you." + +By degrees he regained the use of his attenuated voice. + +"I do want careful handling--that's so. Still I wouldn't murder +me if I were you--it would be murder. Murder has to be paid for +in full. It would be hardly worth your while to be compelled to +render full payment for such a remnant as I am. Have you got the +case? Open it." + +She held a square Russia leather case, in corn-flower blue. She +looked for a spring or for something which would enable her to +get at its interior, but found nothing. + +"Does it open? I don't see how." + +"It's a little idea of my own that spring. I didn't want any one +to see what is inside but me. But it's so long since I've seen +that I have grown hungry for a look, so you shall have one too. +I think I should like you to have one. Hold the case between +your finger and thumb, one of them exactly in the centre of each +side, then press firmly." + +Obeying him, immediately one of the sides flew open in the +middle, revealing, framed in the other, the miniature of a young +girl. Isabel was no artist; she was incapable of appreciating +the artistic value of the portrait which confronted her. What +struck her instantly was that it was surrounded by what looked +like three rows of precious stones--pearls, sapphires, diamonds. + +"Are they real?" she inquired. + +"Do you mean the stones in the setting? They are. The pearls are +there because she is the queen of pearls; the sapphires, because +they are her favourite stones; the diamonds, because I chose to +have them." + +"They must be very valuable." + +"They cost a lot of money, and they'd fetch a lot. That is the +girl I wanted to marry me. What do you think of her?" + +"She is pretty." + +"Pretty! She's beautiful." + +"She's too fair for me." + +"That's because you're dark. I hate dark women--always have +done. Hold the case open in front of me. Let me look at her." + +She did as he asked. No change took place in his expression; +none could take place. His voice remained the same; that also +was incapable of modulation. Yet she knew that an alteration had +taken place in him; that as he gazed the man of whom he had +spoken, who was inside him somewhere, was stirred to his inmost +depths. + +"Not beautiful! She's the most beautiful creature in the world. +She always has been; she always will be. God bless her! though +He has been hard on me." Then, after a pause, "Take the case +away and shut it, and put it back beneath my pillow--gently. +That glimpse will last me a long time, thank you. Though I may +never look at her again, her face will be with me always to the +end. Before you close the case you might look at her again more +carefully. Perhaps, after you have gazed at her attentively, +understanding may come to you; you may begin to perceive the +beauty which was hidden from you at the first." + +She returned, the case still open in her hand, to the window in +front of which she had been standing. + + + + + CHAPTER IX + + THE SLIDING PANEL + + +The silence remained unbroken for some seconds. Then he asked-- + +"Well, what do you think of her now?" + +"I think she's pretty, as I said. You may think her beautiful. I +daresay plenty of men would; that sort of thing's a question of +taste. I tell you what I do think beautiful--that's these +diamonds. The sapphires and the pearls are all very well, but +the diamonds are the stones for me." + +"You would think that. You're the sort of woman who'd admire a +gaudy frame, and have no eyes for the picture that was in it. If +you like I'll tell you who she is and all about her. It may seem +like sacrilege to talk of her to you, but I think I'll tell you +all the same." + +"Tell away. I suppose it's the old, old story: she met some one +she fancied more than you. Men always do think that sort of +thing is wonderful. But I don't mind listening." + +"Yes, there was some one she liked better than me. That was the +trouble." + +"It generally is, while it lasts; then it turns out to be a +blessing. But, of course, you've never had the chance." + +"As you say, I've never had the chance. Her name--I won't tell +you her name--though why shouldn't I? Her name is Margaret +Wallace." + +"Scotch, is she?" + +"Her father was Scotch, her mother English. He was my dearest +friend. When he died----" + +"He left his only daughter, then a mere child, and that was +all." + +"That was all, and as you say she was a mere child. You seem to +have had some experiences of your own." + +"One or two. I'm more than seven." + +"So I should imagine." + +"You took her to your own home, found her in food and washing, +and pocket-money now and then. As she grew older her wondrous +beauty and her many virtues--especially the first lot--warmed +your withered heart. When she attained to womanhood you breathed +to her the secret of your passion, which she had spotted about +eighteen years before; but as she didn't happen to be taking +any, of course the band began to play. Isn't that the sort of +story you were going to tell, only I daresay you wouldn't have +told it in quite that way?" + +"I certainly shouldn't have told it in quite that way." + +"You had expended on her two hundred and forty-nine pounds +nineteen and sixpence ha'penny, besides any amount of fuss, so +her ingratitude stung you to the marrow. Still you might have +borne with her; you might not even have altered the will which +you had made in her favour, and which you kept shaking in her +face; only when she took up with another chap she seemed to be +coming it a bit too thick. You cried in your anger, 'I'll make +you smart for this, my beauty!' So you started to make her +smart; but it seems to me that you've done most of the smarting +up to now. Was it her cruelty which made you the pretty sight +you are?" + +"Not altogether." + +"Not altogether! You don't mean to say that when you wanted her +to be your wife you were anything like what you are now? A nice +kind of love yours must have been!" + +"I appear to have acquired a really delightful wife." + +"If you weren't a dead log it might be that you'd find out how +true that was. Any man with a touch of spice in him would give +the eyes out of his head for a wife like me, and there have been +plenty who were ready to do it." + +"As you yourself observed, these things are a question of taste. +So you think she was justified in treating me as she did?" + +"Justified for not wanting to marry a thing like you! You ought +to have been drowned for hinting at it." + +"I am myself beginning to think that your point of view may not +be wholly incorrect, and that, therefore, it was fortunate that +I did not die on the night we were married." + +"I don't." + +"You wouldn't--you have, of course, your own point of view. From +mine it is fortunate that I have been spared to enable me to +make another will." + +"How are you going to make a will, when you can't move so much +as a finger?" + +"I can have one drawn up according to my instructions. You will +find that I'm capable of signing it. Would you have any +objection?" + +"It would depend on what there was in it." + +"I see. May I ask if you are under the impression that if I die +without a will--even supposing our marriage is valid----" + +"It's valid enough, don't you be afraid." + +"I'm not afraid; you, I fancy, have the cause to fear. But I +say, supposing our marriage is a marriage--as to which I say +nothing either one way or the other--if I die intestate do you +imagine that you will necessarily come into possession of all I +have?" + +"Have you any relatives?" + +"Not one in the whole wide world." + +"Then you bet I shall." + +"You may bet you won't." + +"Who's got more right to what you leave behind than your lawful +wife?" + +"It depends. Under no circumstances would you inherit more than +half of my personal property, and a third of my real estate; the +rest would go to the Crown." + +"Half's something! Look here, Dr. Twelves told me that if I +married you I should have twenty thousand pounds. Have you got +as much?" + +There was an interval before an answer came. Possibly the man in +the bed was considering what answer he should make to such a +very leading question. + +"I cannot tell you exactly what I have got, but I may safely +venture to assert this much: If all I possess--land, houses, +shares and so on--were to be turned into cash to-morrow, I +should find myself with at least two hundred thousand pounds." + +"Two hundred thousand pounds! Go on!" + +"This is a curious world, and Fortune is a curious jade; she +bestows her gifts with feminine irresponsibility. She gives one +health and strength and youth--and empty pockets--just when he +could get enjoyment out of full ones. To another, crippled +limbs, physical helplessness, premature old age--and pockets +brimming over--just when money is of as little use to him as +pictures to the blind. I have been denied most things except +fortune. Sounds ironical, doesn't it? As with Midas, everything +I have touched has turned to gold--in my case a thing wholly +worthless. I never made a bad money speculation in my life. I +doubt if I ever made an investment which did not pay me ten per +cent. Some of my investments have paid me forty and fifty per +cent, for years, and are worth ten times what I gave for them. I +wasn't worth twenty thousand pounds when I began life; now, to +adopt your phraseology, I'll bet I'm worth more than a quarter +of a million." + +"And yet you live in a place like this, without a horse in the +stable, and the garden like a wilderness!" + +"Why shouldn't I? Where would you have me live? In a castle? +with an array of servants who would take my money and from whom +I should have to hide. A well-bred servant wouldn't be able to +endure the sight of such an object as I am. All I need is a bed +to lie on, some one to put food between my lips, money to pay +for it. Since here I have those things, here I have all I need. +Besides, you should bear in mind that, as nothing is being +spent, there will be all the more to leave behind." + +She was silent; her face turned towards the open window, the +miniature in its jewelled case still in her hand. His words had +fired her imagination. A quarter of a million!--this man worth a +quarter of a million!--and he supposed himself to be her +husband! Not long ago she had told herself that a certain and +clear five pounds a week earned by singing and dancing at the +minor music halls would be her idea of fortune. She had married +that deceitful humbug, Gregory Lamb, because she believed that +he might possibly have as much as a thousand a year. What was a +thousand a year compared to a quarter of a million! If he died +without a will half of it would be hers, or was it a third? Why +shouldn't she have more than that? If he had no relatives to +make a fuss, why shouldn't she have it all? + +Even as she asked herself the question an answer came to her +dimly, yet with sufficient clearness to start her trembling. It +was born of an idea which would have disposed most women to do +more than tremble. Her breath came faster; her eyes brightened; +something like a smile wrinkled her lips; the vista presented to +her imagination, which would have appalled most persons, +titillated her. + +After a while she asked, without turning her head-- + +"If you were to make a will, what would you put in it?" + +"I'll show you." + +"When?" + +"Now. There's a secret hiding-place in this room. If you tried +do you think that you could find it?" + +"I'd find it fast enough." + +"Then find it." + +"What sort of place is it?" + +"That's asking for assistance. I'll give you this much. It's in +the wall, concealed by a panel of wood. Now I've given you the +scent, follow it to a finish--if you can." + +"In a room like this there might be fifty hiding-places." + +"There might." + +"It would take days to examine it thoroughly; however long it +might take me I'd find it. I'd strip the walls of everything +before I'd give it up." + +"I don't think you need go so far as that just yet. Look round; +you've hawk's eyes; I've given you a hint; can't you make a +likely guess, like the sharp-witted child who is playing +hide-and-seek?" + +Isabel's glances were travelling round the room searchingly, +resting here and there, allowing nothing to escape them. When +they had traversed the whole apartment from floor to ceiling in +one direction they returned in another. + +"You are not tricking me? There really is a secret +hiding-place?" + +"There really is." + +"And you say it's behind a panel in the wall?" + +"That's it." + +Her eyes in their return journey had reached the great wooden +fireplace. Although she did not know it, it was a fine specimen +of old carving. What she did notice were the rounded posts which +served as pillars. There were four, two longer and two shorter, +each supporting a shelf on which there were ornaments. She +wondered if the posts would turn. Probably something recurred to +her mind which she had read about a movable post, though she +could not have said just what it was or where she had read it. +She had a notion that she would try if the posts in the +fireplace turned, when she was stopped by a remark which came +from the man in the bed. + +"You're looking in the wrong place; so as I don't want your +search to occupy you days, I'll tell you where it is." Even as +he spoke it struck her--rather as a vague suspicion than +anything else--that he did not want her to pay too much +attention to the fireplace. She waited for him to continue, +which he did at once. "You see the bracket in the corner on my +left. Go to it. Take down the vase which stands upon it, then +lift the bracket out of its socket." She did as he told her. +"You see the boss just at the top of the socket. That releases +the catch. Press it, then slide upwards that part of the panel +which is immediately at your right." + +Again she followed his directions. A portion of the woodwork, +three or four inches wide, and about a foot in length, yielding +to her touch, disclosed an open space behind. + +"There's an envelope in it, a blue envelope; take it out." + +There was an envelope, apparently nothing else. On the front was +an inscription, whose crabbed characters had apparently been +written by a feminine hand. "This envelope contains Cuthbert +Grahame's will, and is not to be opened till after his death." +The two flaps at the back were secured by big red seals. + +"Never mind what it says. I'm Cuthbert Grahame, and I tell you +to open the envelope, although I don't happen to be dead. Take +out the paper which you'll find inside. Read it; you can read it +aloud if you like." + +She read it aloud. The handwriting was identical with the +cramped caligraphy on the envelope. + +"'I give and bequeath all the property of which I die possessed, +both in real and personal estate, to Margaret Wallace, +absolutely, for her sole use and benefit.--CUTHBERT GRAHAME. +Witnesses, NANNIE FORESHAW, DAVID TWELVES, M.D., Edin.'" + +With the exception of a date at the top that was all the paper +contained. + +"That is the will you broke by marrying me, or, if you prefer +it, which I broke by marrying you. There isn't much to be said +for the phraseology--it wasn't drafted in a lawyer's office. +Nannie wrote it down to my dictation--at that table over by the +window there. She doesn't write a very excellent fist, but it'll +serve. That's as sound a will as if it had been drawn by a +council of lawyers, and, to the lay mind, a good deal plainer +than they'd have made it." + +"Do you mean to say that what's on this paper is enough to put +Margaret Wallace into undisputed possession of a quarter of a +million of money?" + +"It would have been if I hadn't married you; my marriage has +made it so much waste-paper. You may tear it up, or keep it if +you please; it makes no difference. I intend to make another +will." + +"What are you going to put in it?" + +"Exactly what's in that, only the date will be different. It's +the date in that which renders it nugatory." + +"Aren't you going to leave me anything?" + +"Why should I?" + +"Dr. Twelves told me that if I married you I should have twenty +thousand pounds." + +"I'm not responsible for what Dr. Twelves may assert." + +"You are--in a way, and you know it. Because he only brought me +up so that you might die in peace, and, I expect, at your own +express command." + +Mr. Grahame was silent, possibly considering her words. + +"A cheque for a hundred pounds would amply repay you for what +you've done--or I might make it a hundred guineas." + +"A hundred guineas! Listen to me--you're my husband." + +"You've observed that on some previous occasion." + +"And I'm your wife." + +"That also has already become ancient history." + +"I want you to understand just the way in which I see it. I'm +the mistress of this house, and no one sets foot in it--or in +your room--without my express sanction and approval." + +"Won't any one? We shall see." + +"We _shall_ see! I'll write you just the will you want, as +Nannie did, if you'll let me add a sentence leaving me--say, +five thousand pounds. It ought to be more--twenty thousand was +what Dr. Twelves promised--and you can make it as much more as +you like, but I'll do it if you make it that." As, when she +stopped, he was silent, she again went on: "If you don't let me +add such a sentence you shall make no will at all--as sure as +I'm alive I swear you shan't. I'll have my bed brought in here +to stop you doing it at night--you may trust me to take care you +don't do it by day. As your wife I've my rights, and you're a +helpless man. I mean to take advantage of my rights--to the +fullest possible extent!--and of your helplessness. You ought to +know by now that in such a matter I'm the sort of woman that +keeps her word." + +"I have a sort of notion that you might do your best in that +direction--from what I've seen--and heard--of you." + +"You can bet on it!" + +"Let me follow you clearly. Am I to understand that you will +draw up yourself a will identical in all respects with the one +you have in your hand, if I allow you to add an additional +clause by which you are to benefit to the extent of five +thousand pounds?" + +"That's what you're to understand--just that." + +"And that you'll assist me to sign it in the presence of two +witnesses?" + +"I'll assist you all I can." + +"I'll think it over. Five thousand pounds is a deal of money for +what you've done, and for the sort of woman you are; but--I'll +think it over. When would you do it?" + +"If you say the word I'll do it right now." + +There was a considerable pause, then he repeated his former +observation:-- + +"I'll think it over." After a pause he added: "Put back that +miniature underneath my pillow--this time gently, if you please. +Close the panel; replace the bracket and the vase. You may take +the will with you if you like, so that you may get it well +into your head. I'm tired--I've talked enough. I want to be +still--and think." + + + + + CHAPTER X + + THE GIRL AT THE DOOR + + +When Isabel left Cuthbert Grahame's room her brain was in a +tumult. She had so much of which to think that she found it hard +to think at all. The discovery that his wealth was so altogether +beyond anything of which she had dreamed as possible; the +unearthing of his will--from such a hiding-place; the facts she +had learned of Margaret Wallace, and which she had herself +embroidered--these things were in themselves enough to occupy +her mind to its full capacity for some time to come. Yet they +were far from being all she had to think about. The miniature, +in its jewelled setting--especially the jeweled setting!--was +likely to be a subject of covetous contemplation until--well, +until something had happened to it, or to her. Then there were +the pillars in the fireplace. Something--she could not have told +what--had filled her with the conviction that the recess behind +the sliding panel was not the only hiding-place the room +contained. She was possessed by a desire to examine those four +rounded posts--to examine them closely--to ascertain whether in +their construction there was anything peculiar. + +But beyond and above all these sufficient causes for mental +agitation there was still another, one far greater--the will she +might have to draft, which she felt certain she would be asked +to draft. The idea which she had at the back of her head, which +had prompted her suggestion, was of such a character that it +almost frightened her. Like Cuthbert Grahame, she wanted time +and opportunity for thought. She had it in contemplation to risk +everything upon the hazard of a single throw--everything, in the +widest sense of that comprehensive word. To put her notion into +execution needed courage of a diabolical kind. Failure involved +utter and eternal ruin. Success, on the other hand, would bring +in its train all the pleasures of which she had scarcely dared +to dream. + +On her return from her walk, having learned that Gregory Lamb +had not put in the appearance she had feared, she had sent the +two maids on an errand. They were raw, country wenches, +ignorant, slow-witted. It seemed hardly likely that, under any +circumstances, she would find them dangerous, yet she was +strongly of opinion that it was advisable, if, as was possible, +the deserted Gregory did call, that she should be the person to +receive him. Nannie was still confined to her room, so that +Isabel had but to be rid of the underlings to have practically +the whole house at her mercy. + +It has been said that small things make great generals, since it +is the eye for trivial details which wins big battles. The +little act of foresight which prompted Isabel Lamb to clear the +premises of that pair of Scotch wenches not impossibly changed +the whole course of her life--not because what she had foreseen +happened; what actually occurred she had not even looked for. + +The dining-room had a large bay window which commanded the path +leading to the front door. As she stood there, with her brain in +a state of almost chaotic confusion, something caught her eye--a +figure on the carriage drive. It was still at some distance; it +disappeared nearly as soon as she saw it. She kept her glance +fixed on its vanishing point. As for some moments nothing was +visible, she was beginning to suppose that she must have been +mistaken, when she saw it again. It was still to a great extent +hidden by the trees and brushwood, but it certainly was there. +Isabel instinctively drew back, although in any case she must +have been entirely invisible. Instantly her brain became clear. +The perception of approaching danger, which had on her the +effect of bracing her up, restored to her at once the full use +of her faculties. + +"Is it Gregory?" she asked herself. + +If it had been he would have had a warm reception. But it was +not, as was immediately made clear. The figure was that of a +woman--reaching a point where the ground was clearer, she could +be plainly seen. She was walking very fast, with long, even +strides. + +"Who is it?" the woman at the window asked herself. "It can't be +one of the girls--they won't be back for a couple of hours or +more. I know them! Besides, they don't move like that. Nothing +feminine's been near the place since I've been in it. So far as +I know, there's nothing feminine hereabouts to come. As for +callers, we don't have them. What's likely to attract a woman to +a house like this? Why, I do believe it's a lady--that dress was +never made in this parish. And--she's young! Where on earth have +I seen her before? I have seen her, but where? My stars!--the +miniature! It's Margaret Wallace!--come to see the man she +jilted! Here's a nice to-do!" + +The approaching figure had come clear of the carriage drive, and +was now in full sight. As Isabel had acknowledged to herself, it +was unmistakably that of a lady. The dress might be proof itself +to another woman's keen perception, but there was other evidence +as well. The way in which the stranger bore herself--her +carriage, the easy grace which marked her movements, at least +suggested breeding. As the face became visible all doubt was at +an end. This was certainly a lady who, as it seemed, was coming +to call. + +Was the purport of her presence here merely to pay a passing +call? Did she simply wish to make a few inquiries, and then +return from whence she came? Would she be content with a few +more or less civil words being spoken to her at the partly open +door, or would she insist on entering and being allowed to visit +Cuthbert Grahame in his room? In that case Isabel's domination +would be at an end. The chances were that those two had but to +exchange half-a-dozen words, and the castle which she had +already in imagination builded would resolve itself into an +edifice even less substantial than a house of cards. The wild +scheme of which she had conceived the embryo would never move +from that condition. The situation out of which she had +determined to wrest a great opportunity would be there and then +at an end if Margaret Wallace won her way past that front door. + +But would she win it? The fates were on Isabel's side. Nannie +upstairs helpless in her bed; Cuthbert Grahame still more +helpless in his; the two girls out--Margaret Wallace would have +to reckon with her. Isabel overrated herself if, in such a +contest as was likely to ensue, she did not prove the better of +the pair. + +A sudden thought occurring to her she hurried into the hall. By +some fortunate chance the front door was closed, so that she +remained unseen by the approaching visitor. She remembered that +she had closed it when she herself had come in; as a rule it +stood wide open. If it had been then it would have been +impossible for her to perform the part she proposed to play. As +soon as she reached it she turned the key--only just in time. +Within thirty seconds the handle was tried by some one on the +other side. + +"That settles it," observed Isabel to herself. "I didn't look at +the face in the miniature so closely as all that, it was the +setting which occupied me. I might have mistaken the likeness, +and it mightn't have been Margaret Wallace after all. But the +style in which she turned that handle gives her away. She's come +in and out of this house too often not to be aware that, even if +the door does happen to be shut, you've only got to turn the +handle to come in. When she found that it wouldn't open, I'll +bet that she had a bit of a shock. Holloa! it seems that she +can't believe it now. I daresay it's the first time in all her +life that she's found that door closed against her." + +Something of the kind did seem possible. The person on the other +side was giving the handle various twists and turns, as if +unable to credit that the door was actually locked. It was only +after continued efforts that the fact was realised. There was an +interval, as if the person without was considering the position. + +"Now what'll she do?" wondered Isabel. "Go round to the back, +and see if she can't get in that way? She won't think it a +possible thing that both doors can be locked. The odds are that +she's come in one way as often as the other. She won't come in +that way this time, and so I'll show her." + +On stealthy feet Isabel, stealing to the back of the house, both +locked and bolted the door which gave ingress to the house on +that side. As she was ramming the top bolt home a bell clanged +through the house followed by the rat-tat-tat of a knocker. + +"So she's concluded not to give herself the trouble of trying +the back door, at least for the present. Now what'll I do? One +thing's sure, I'm not going to be in any haste to answer either +her ringing or her knocking. Possibly if no one does answer +she'll be tricked into thinking the house is empty." The bell +and knocker were audible again. + +"She's pretty impatient; she doesn't give a person over-much +time to answer, even if one wanted to. What a row that bell does +make--sounds as if it were rusty. I daresay it isn't rung more +than once a year. It'll startle those two upstairs--it's a time +since they heard it. There she is again. She'll hurt that bell +if she isn't careful. I'd like to hurt her--if she doesn't watch +out I will before she's finished. That's right, my dear, give +another pull at it! Pretty rough on Grahame. If he only knew who +was ringing what wouldn't he give to get at her--especially if +he understood that this is the only chance he'll ever have; and +to have to lie there like a log, and let it slip between his +fingers! As for Nannie--that old woman's got the nose of a +bloodhound--I shouldn't be surprised if she smells who's at the +door. If she does I shouldn't wonder if, broken leg or no broken +leg, she tumbles out of bed and tries to get down somehow to +open it. She hadn't better. She'll break it again if she +does--if I have to help her do it! No one's going to interfere +with that door but me! I'm not going to have her hammering and +clanging till those two girls come back, that won't suit my book +at all. And as she looks like doing it the sooner I get rid of +her the better." + +The upper panels of the front door were of coloured glass, the +panes, which were of different hues, shapes and sizes, being set +in leaden frames. While it was possible for whoever was within +to obtain a vague impression of some one without, it was +impossible for whoever was without to see anything of the person +within. It was of this fact that the quick-witted Isabel +proposed to take advantage. Among the various accomplishments +which fitted her, in her opinion, to shine in the halls was that +of mimicry. Drawing close up to the glass panels she exclaimed, +in tones which were intended to represent the broken-legged +Nannie's-- + +"Who's that as wants to break the bell of a decent body's +house?" + +That the assumption was not entirely unsuccessful was shown by +the response which came instantly from the other side of the +door. + +"Is that you, Nannie? You silly old thing! Where have you +been? What have you been doing? And why have you locked this +door?--open it at once!" + +"And to whom will I open it, please?" + +There came a peal of girlish laughter as a prelude to this +reply. + +"Nannie, you are an old stupid! Do you mean to say that you +don't recognise my voice as well as I do yours? Why, I'm Meg +come back to see you again!--open the door at once, you goose!" + +"I'll no open the door this day." + +"Nannie!" + +"Margaret Wallace, I tell you I'll no open the door for you this +day, so back you go from where you came." + +"Nannie! how can you speak to me like that! How dare you!" + +"I'm but obeying Mr. Cuthbert's orders, and it's not fear of you +that'll stay me from doing that." + +"Do you mean to tell me that Cuthbert Grahame forbade you to let +me into the house?" + +"He did a great deal more. He said that if you ever came near it +he'd bring half-a-dozen dogs to set them at you. So take +yourself off, and be quick about it." + +"But, Nannie, I don't understand." + +"None of your lies! It's plain enough! So be off to where you're +wanted--if it's anywhere." + +"But, Nannie, what have I done that you should speak to me like +this? You always used to take my part." + +"It's no part of yours I'll ever take again. Are you going?" + +"I only want to talk to you. If you'll only open the door I +promise you I won't try to get in if you don't want me to." + +"I can have all the talk I want with you as we are. Will you be +off?" + +"Won't you let me have one look at you, Nannie, and give you +just one kiss?" + +"I'll have none of your kisses, and I never want to look at you +again till you're lying in your coffin." + +"Nannie! there's something about the way you talk which I don't +understand. It's not you to speak to me like this. I insist upon +your opening the door. I don't believe Cuthbert Grahame ever +told you not to--I know him too well to think that's possible. I +shall keep on ringing and knocking till you do open, and so I +tell you." + +"Then you'll keep on some time, I promise you that. I know what +Mr. Cuthbert's orders are better than you. If I was to empty his +gun at you I'd only do what he'd wish me to." + +"Nannie! But, Nannie, I've come all the way from London. It's a +very long way, and costs a deal of money, and nowadays I haven't +much money, as you know. You're not going to send me back like +this." + +"Is it the fare back to London that you're wanting? If it's to +beg you've come, I'll give you the fare out of my own pocket, so +that Mr. Cuthbert may be rid of you in peace." + +This time in the girlish voice there was a ring of unmistakable +indignation. + +"Nannie! you're a wicked old woman! I believe that you've some +wicked scheme in your head of which Cuthbert Grahame knows +nothing. You sound as if you were capable of anything. If you +don't let me in this moment I'll get in without your help." + +"How are you going to do that, pray?" + +"Do you think I can't? I'll soon show you! If you think I'm +still a foolish girl to be tyrannised over by you, you're very +much mistaken. I won't believe that Cuthbert Grahame doesn't +wish to see me till he tells me so with his own lips." + + + + + CHAPTER XI + + HOT WATER + + +A hand was raised on the other side of the door and brought +smartly against the glass. The whole panel shivered; the blow +would only have to be repeated two or three times to destroy it +altogether. Whipping the key out of the lock, Isabel hurried up +the staircase, slipping it into her pocket as she went. Although +she had no fear of an entry being made, she was very far from +desirous of being seen. That would involve the discovery of the +fraud she had been practising. If Miss Wallace learned that it +was not Nannie who had been addressing her in such +uncompromising terms, it was scarcely likely, even if driven by +force from the house, that she would leave the neighbourhood +without effecting her purpose of seeing Cuthbert Grahame. So +Isabel, determined that that should not happen, resolved to +adopt extreme measures. + +When she gained the top of the stairs she could already hear the +glass shivering in the door below. Rushing into the bath-room, +snatching up a couple of pails which the not too tidy maids had +left there, and filling them at the tap, she strode with them to +the landing-window which overlooked the entrance. She had filled +them at the hot-water tap, and the steam came against her hand. + +"It isn't very hot," she told herself. "There's just enough +sting in it to make her a little warmer than she is already." + +The window was wide open. She peeped out to see that the girl +was immediately below. Balancing both pails on the sill she +turned them over together. That the contents had reached the +mark was immediately made plain by the cries which ascended from +below. + +"Nannie! Nannie! you've scalded me! you've scalded me!" + +Isabel replied, still taking care not to allow so much as the +tip of her nose to be seen through the window-- + +"I'll scald you again in half a minute--you'll find the water's +boiling next time, I promise you. What's more, I'll take Mr. +Cuthbert's gun to you, as he bade me. You shameless hussy! to go +breaking his windows because he won't have you set your foot +inside the house that you've disgraced!" + +This diatribe from the supposititious Nannie was followed by +silence below. Isabel, who found the suspense a little trying, +was half disposed to venture on a glance to learn what was +taking place. Unmistakable sounds, however, arose just as she +had made up her mind to run the risk. Margaret Wallace was +crying. Presently she exclaimed, in tones which were broken by +her sobs-- + +"I'm going, Nannie. You needn't trouble to get Mr. Cuthbert's +gun, nor to wait till the water's boiling. Whatever Mr. +Cuthbert's orders may have been--and I know I've used him badly, +and deserve anything from him--I never thought you'd have +treated me like this. I've never done you any harm, and you've +always pretended that you loved me. I hope you'll never regret +driving me away like this from the house that has always been a +home to me! Oh, Nannie! Nannie!" + +The girl uttered the last two words in such poignant tones that +Isabel thought it extremely possible that they penetrated to the +woman to whom they were actually addressed. After a moment's +interval footsteps were audible below. Then, as Isabel drew back +behind the curtain, she could see through the loophole that +Margaret Wallace was returning whence she came. She moved with a +very different step to that which had marked her approach. Her +feet seemed to lag, her head hung down, and she kept putting her +hand up to her eyes to relieve them of blinding tears. Her +attitude was significant of the most extreme despondency. +Apparently some remnants of her pride still lingered. It was +probably those fragments of her self-respect which prevented her +from once looking round to glance at the house from whose +precincts she was being so contemptuously dismissed. + +Isabel watched the defeated mien which characterised the girl's +whole bearing in the moment of her humiliation with a smile of +triumph. + +"That's one to me. It's on the cards that it's the one that's +going to win the game. I guess she's feeling pretty bad. It +can't be nice, if your pockets aren't too well lined, to come +all the way from London just for this. I daresay she meant to do +the conscience-stricken act--tell him how sorry she was, ask his +forgiveness, have an affecting reconciliation, and all that kind +of thing. I expect she was drawing pictures of how it all was +going to be as she came along in the train. I rather fancy those +pictures won't get beyond the outline. She'll be trying her hand +at sketches of another kind as she goes back again. I wonder how +she'd feel if she knew how she's been bluffed by an insolent +adventuress, and that Nannie hadn't had a hand in the game at +all. She'd feel pretty mad! I wonder how Nannie feels if she so +much as guesses at what's been going on. I'll give the old lady +a call; and I'll call on Mr. Cuthbert Grahame. But before I do +that I think I'll write a few lines on a sheet of paper--on a +couple of sheets." + +Before she quitted her post of observation the unhappy girl had +vanished from sight. Isabel waited for some minutes after she +had disappeared lest something should transpire which might +cause her to change her mind and return. As time passed and +nothing more was seen of her, Isabel decided that she had gone +for good. Descending to the dining-room, seating herself at a +writing-table, Isabel drew from a drawer two large sheets of +paper, similar to the one contained in the envelope which +Cuthbert Grahame had instructed her to take from behind the +sliding panel. On one of these sheets she wrote, in her large, +bold, round hand, a facsimile of the will which marriage had +rendered invalid. + +"I give and bequeath all the property of which I die possessed, +both in real and personal estate, to Margaret Wallace, +absolutely, for her sole use and benefit." When she had finished +she surveyed what she had written, then added--"With the +exception of five thousand pounds in cash, which I give and +bequeath to Isabel Burney, and which it is my wish shall be paid +to her, free of legacy duty, within seven days of my being +buried". + +"That only needs his signature and the signatures of the +witnesses. Shall I date it, or leave the date open? I think I'll +be safe in dating it to-morrow. Now for another document very +much like it, but not quite, though as far as appearance goes it +must be as exactly like it as it can be conveniently made." + +She then wrote on the second sheet what was, with some slight, +but important, differences, an exact reproduction of the words +she had written on the other. + +"I give and bequeath all the property of which I die possessed, +both in real and personal estate, to Isabel Burney"--she +hesitated, then wrote--"whom I have acknowledged to be my wife, +in the presence of Dr. Twelves and Nannie Foreshaw, absolutely, +for her sole use and benefit"--she hesitated again, and this +time added--"with the exception of five farthings in cash, which +I give and bequeath to Margaret Wallace, and which it is my wish +shall be paid to her, free of legacy duty, within seven days of +my being buried." + +"That also needs but the signatures and--a little ingenuity." +She had made them, in all respects, so much alike, fitting into +the same space the extra words on the second sheet that at a +little distance it was easy to mistake one for the other. "Now +we'll tear up that old thing, which my appearance on the scene +was so unfortunate as to spoil, and we'll put the new will in +its place--with its brother." + +She did as she said, folding up the two sheets in precisely the +same creases, putting them into the one envelope. Then she went +upstairs to see Nannie. + +The old lady's leg bade fair to be a long time healing, nor was +a cure likely to be hastened by her impatience and general +unwillingness to take things easily. So soon as Isabel put her +head inside the room, Nannie, sitting up in bed, aimed at her a +volley of questions. + +"Why haven't you been here before? What's all the clatter been +about--like as if the house was coming down? Such ringing and +hammering I never heard the likes of. What's been the meaning of +it all? Where's them two girls? Why didn't one of you open the +door, like as if it was a Christian house? Why did you suffer +such a hubbub--enough to disturb the countryside? Who's been +talking in a voice like a cracked tin trumpet?" + +It occurred to Isabel that the last analogy was unfortunate, +since a "cracked tin trumpet" was a not inadequate description +of the screech in which Nannie herself was even then indulging. +The old lady presented a peculiar spectacle--in a huge, ancient +nightcap, tied in a big bow beneath her chin; a vivid tartan +shawl about her shoulders. The visitor replied to the whole of +the inquiries with an unhesitating lie. + +"Nannie, do you know that a dreadful man's been begging, and +trying to force his way into the house. If I hadn't turned the +key just in time I don't know what would have happened." She did +not, but the happenings would have run on different lines to +those which she suggested. "As it was he broke the front-door +window, and I had to pour a couple of buckets of water over him +before he'd go." + +"A man been begging, and trying to force his way into the house! +Such a thing's never happened in all the days I've known the +place." + +"I daresay I expect it was some one who's heard that you were +confined to your bed, and thought that I might be easily +tackled. He's found out his mistake." + +"Where's them two girls?" + +"I've sent them on an errand. Perhaps he knew that too, and that +made him bolder." + +"I thought I heard a voice I knew." + +"That must have been mine." + +"Yours! I haven't heard a sound of you. Who was it screeching?" + +"That was me. I was imitating your voice, Nannie. You see I +thought it might frighten him more than mine--and it did." + +"My voice! Do you mean to tell me that that rasping, creaking +screech was meant to be an imitation of my voice? I'd like to +know whoever heard me talk in that way." + +"Why, Nannie, I'm hearing you talk that way now. Don't you know +your own musical accents when you hear them?--and me giving you +a taste of them to your face!" + +Laughingly, Isabel treated Nannie to another imitation of her +curious nasal utterance then and there, and was out of the room +before the old lady had recovered sufficiently from her +astonishment to pronounce a candid criticism of the impertinent +performance. + +From Nannie Isabel descended to the master of the house, to be +greeted by some very similar inquiries. + +"What's been the meaning of all this uproar?" Isabel repeated +the lie she had told Nannie. "That was no man's voice I heard. +It was a woman's, and I could have sworn one I knew." + +"I expect the voice you thought you knew was Nannie. I was +favouring the ruffian with as close an imitation of her genial +tongue as I could manage." + +"That's not what I mean. I heard you imitating Nannie. Will you +swear it was a man at the door?" + +"Of course I'll swear it. Whatever do you mean?" + +"What was he like?" + +She seemed to consider. + +"He was rather tall and very broad, with a big red beard. He had +a cloth cap on the back of his head; his coat over his arm; and +he carried a huge stick--about as undesirable-looking a person +to encounter on a lonely road as you could very well imagine. I +should know him anywhere if I saw him again. Do you recognise +him from my description?" + +"I do not. I heard nothing of any man speaking, the voice I +heard was a woman's." + +"Of course it was; I tell you that that was me imitating Nannie. +Don't you understand?" + +"It was neither your voice nor Nannie's. It was one I have heard +too often, and know too well, ever to mistake for another. I +could have sworn it was hers; I could have sworn I heard her +pronounce my name. I was not dreaming--I could not have been. +That I should lie here, chained and helpless, and she almost +within touch of me! Why didn't Nannie go down to the door?" + +"Nannie?--she's as helpless as you are." + +"Where are those two servants?" + +"I sent them out on an errand long ago." + +"So that you've had me at your mercy, and if it was her, you've +had her also. That God should permit it! If you are lying to +me--and I believe you can lie like truth!--may you soon be +consigned to hell fire, to rot there to all eternity." + +"If the worst comes to the worst, that's a trip on which I hope +to follow you." + +"Swear to me by all that you hold sacred--if there's +anything!--that it wasn't Margaret Wallace at the door." + +"Margaret Wallace!--are you stark mad?" + +"I believe you're tricking me! I believe I heard her voice! I +believe I heard her pronounce my name!" + +"If I had thought that you could have got such an idea into your +head as that, I'd have thrown the door wide open, and invited +that murderous ruffian to walk upstairs to you. Then you would +have seen how much he was like Margaret Wallace--that is, if +she's anything like the picture which you showed me. You've been +talking and thinking so much about Margaret Wallace that you've +got her on the brain. Do you think that if it had been her I +wouldn't have brought her right up to you? You're very much +mistaken if you do. I'm no saint, any more than you are, but I'd +no more rob a woman of her happiness than you would--perhaps not +so much. You did try to rob her, and you got me to be your +accomplice--blindfold, as it were. If I'd known what you've told +me this afternoon I'd have seen you--and old Twelves!--the other +side of Jordan before I'd let you make a tool of me. Now that I +do know, I won't rest quiet till you've put her back into the +position in which she was before. Here's that will I spoke to +you about. It's the same as the one which was spoilt, except +that it leaves me five thousand pounds. Five thousand pounds +will be of no consequence to her, while it will make all the +difference in the world to me. After the way in which you've +treated me I ought to have something, and that's the something I +mean to have." + +Taking out the will which left everything to Margaret Wallace +except the L5,000, she held it out in front of Cuthbert Grahame. +He read it through. + +"That seems all right. Will you help me sign it?" + +"Of course I'll help you sign it--now if you choose, though I've +dated it to-morrow, because I thought that would give you a +chance to think things over. I tell you that I shan't rest till +that girl's back into her own again." For some moments he was +silent, then he said-- + +"Perhaps I was mistaken." + +"Mistaken about what?" + +"Perhaps it wasn't her voice I heard." + +"Man, I tell you you were dreaming." + +"Perhaps I was. If you'd driven her from the door you'd hardly +bring me a will like that directly after. Even if you'd let her +in, you might have guessed that she wouldn't have wanted to rob +you of your five thousand." + +"Of course she wouldn't, any more than I wanted to rob her. We +women are not so bad as that, whatever you men may think." + +"Put the will under my pillow--gently--with her miniature. As +you say, I'll think things over. Maybe I'll sign it to-morrow." + + + + + CHAPTER XII + + SIGNING THE WILL + + +Cuthbert Grahame did sign his last will and testament on the +morrow, though hardly in the fashion he intended. The way in +which he was tricked was this. + +Before the woman who called herself his wife went down to her +breakfast she paid him a morning call. He had had a more restful +night than usual, so that he was in an exceptional good-humour. +The sight of her seemed almost to give him pleasure. She was all +smiles and sweetness, which were real enough, since she hoped to +be shortly in possession of a boundless stock of happiness. He +began on the subject directly he saw her. + +"I'll sign that will of yours." + +"That's right; so you shall. But won't you wait till after +breakfast, then we can have up Jane and Martha to be witnesses." + +Jane and Martha were the two serving-maids whose absence +yesterday had been so opportune. + +"I'll wait. You'll have to have me propped up a little higher; I +shan't be able to sign like this." + +"I'll see to that; I'll do everything I can." And she did. She +communed with herself as she ate a substantial meal. "Propped +up? I'll see he's propped up high enough, I promise him--the +higher the better. He can't be propped up high enough for me. It +seems a dangerous game to try to change one paper for the other +right under his very nose, but I fancy I know how it can be +done--and with complete impunity. If he could move so much as a +finger it might be difficult, but propped up as he'll be he'll +be wholly at the mercy of my two hands. I think they're skilful +enough for the job they've got to do." Spreading out the second +sheet of paper on the breakfast-table in front of her, she +studied it carefully, with every appearance of complacency. +"Such a little difference and yet so much--only the substitution +of one word for another, and all the world is changed. I think +'whom I have acknowledged to be my wife in the presence of Dr. +Twelves and Nannie Foreshaw' is a positive stroke of genius. It +commits me to nothing, and establishes my position, because +while he admits his desire to claim me for his wife, there is no +reference to any wish on my part to have him for a husband. The +only trouble will be to prevent his noticing the difference in +the appearance of the two papers, which, however neatly I've +done it, is the necessary consequence of inserting those few +words. But I think I know how to manage that." + +She did; she credited herself with no capacity which she did not +possess. In every respect she proved herself to be fully equal +to all the requirements of the occasion. + +She returned to Cuthbert Grahame's bedroom so soon as she had +finished breakfast, the personification of brisk, hearty +good-humour. + +"Now are you ready? Shall we get to business? Is the will still +underneath your pillow? Shall I get it out?" She took from its +resting-place the paper which he supposed himself to be about to +sign. With the aid of some pillows she raised him to a more +upright position. Then she spread the paper out in front of him. +"You see, there's the will. Is that just as you want it to be?" + +He read it through. + +"That's all right." + +"Then I'll call up Martha and Jane to act as witnesses, and then +you'll be able to sign it in their presence." She called up the +two girls, who came up rubbing their hands on their aprons. She +said to him, "Hadn't you better explain to them what it is you +want them to do?" + +He explained. + +"I'm going to make a new will. Mrs. Grahame,"--he paused; one +almost suspected him of a desire to give the name satiric +emphasis--"has been drawing up a will at my dictation. I'm going +to sign it. I want you to act as witnesses of my signature. +Stand close to the bed so that you can see what I am doing. My +dear"--this was to Isabel; again there was the hint of an +ironical intention--"if you will bring me the will which you +have been so good as to draft for me I won't keep these young +women a moment longer than I can help." + +She brought him the will--or, rather, a will. It was spread out +on a slope, and covered with a sheet of blotting-paper on which +she kept her fingers to prevent it slipping. Only the last four +lines were visible--"it is my wish shall be paid to her, free of +legacy duty, within seven days of my being buried". What went +before was hidden; the familiar conclusion seemed to be all that +he cared to see. Leaning over him, raising his right arm, as +gingerly as if it had been a piece of delicate porcelain, she +placed his dreadful, helpless fingers somehow about a pen. He +spoke to the two girls. + +"As you know, I can do nothing by myself, so Mrs. Grahame, at my +request, is going to guide my hand so as to enable me to sign my +will. You understand, it is I who am signing it, not she." + +It was a strange signature--"Cuthbert Grahame," in big, +sprawling letters; some of them unattached to each other, all +slanting in different directions. The owner of the name, +however, seemed to view the result with undiluted satisfaction. + +"That's my signature--clear enough for any one to read. Now I +want you two girls to attach your names as witnesses to the fact +that I have signed my will in your presence." + +Isabel removed the slope to the writing-table against the wall. +Then each of the girls wrote her name in turn. When they had +done so they left the room. So soon as they had gone Cuthbert +Grahame spoke to Isabel. + +"Now let me have a look at that will of mine in its finished +condition. Thank goodness it is done. It's a weight off my +mind--a relief for which I have to thank you." + +Isabel stood at the writing-table, looking down, with a smile on +her face, at the paper he had signed. + +"Do you say that you want to see your will now that it's all +signed, sealed and finished?" + +"Yes; didn't you hear what I said? Then I want you to put it +under my pillow. I'll show it Twelves when he comes. He'll laugh +when he sees it." + +"I expect he will laugh. Is Dr. Twelves coming to-day?" + +"He said something about it. If not, then he'll be here +to-morrow. It will keep till then." + +"Oh yes; it will keep till then." + +"What are you waiting for? Why don't you bring the will? Don't I +tell you I want to read it again?" + +She went to the bed, the sheet of paper extended between her two +hands. + +"Here's your will, Mr. Grahame; by all means read it again." + +He read it, once, twice, then again. Then he tried to speak. It +seemed that his voice failed him. It was not pleasant to notice +the stammer which seemed to mark his struggles for breath. + +"What--what folly's this? That's not the will I signed." + +Her eyes were dancing with laughter. There was a merry ring in +her voice, as if she was in the enjoyment of an excellent joke. + +"Oh yes, it is." + +"It's not the one you drafted." + +"Oh yes, it is." + +"It isn't the one you showed me just now." + +"Isn't it? Are you quite, quite sure?" + +"Of course I'm sure! It's a trick!--a fraud! This is not my +will!" + +"But, dear Mr. Grahame--I noticed how you called me your +dear!--it is your will. Here's your signature, attested by two +witnesses. After all, there's only a slight difference between +the one you saw and this." + +"A slight difference, you--you----!" + +In his efforts to find an expletive to fit the occasion, his +struggles for breath became greater. She went gaily on. + +"The only difference is that I get everything instead of +Margaret Wallace, and that instead of my five thousand pounds +she gets five farthings. Surely the trifling substitution of a +few words won't matter to you in the least, Mr. Grahame." + +It seemed that it mattered a good deal. After a tremendous +effort he regained some portion of his voice, enough to enable +him to burst into a string of expletives. + +"You--you----! You----! It's a fraud! a----fraud! It's a +swindle! Don't you flatter yourself that it will stand! Don't +you think I'll let it stand! Wait till Twelves comes, then I'll +show you!" + +"Wait till Dr. Twelves comes? Suppose he never comes?" + +"What do you mean? What are you doing with that pillow?" + +"Suppose Dr. Twelves never comes, what is to prevent this will +from standing?" + +"What are you doing with that pillow, you----!" + +"I'm going to stop your saying such dreadful things. It pains me +to have to listen to such language." + +She snatched away one pillow from beneath his head, and then a +second. She had propped him in such a way that when he was +deprived of their support his head fell back, and there recurred +the scene of the previous afternoon. He began to choke; his +unwieldy frame was shaken by convulsive efforts to breathe; +stertorous gasps proceeded from the region of his chest. He +presented a dreadful spectacle. + +The sight did not seem to in any way affect the woman who was +standing by his bed, with the pillows still in her hand. She +pressed the bolster farther up his back so that his head +declined at an acute angle; applying her palm to the point of +his chin she forced it lower still. Then she said-- + +"I'll place the will as you wished me, Mr. Grahame, under your +pillow". + +She placed it there, under the single pillow which remained; +then she left the room. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII + + THE ENCOUNTER IN THE WOOD + + +Isabel crossed to her own room, put on her hat, smiling at +herself in the looking-glass as she arranged it to her +satisfaction, then went downstairs, and out of the house without +a word to any one. It was perhaps because she was conscious that +Martha was peeping at her through the stillroom window that she +began to whistle. She was still whistling one of the latest +possible melodies when, entering the drive, she turned off among +the trees and struck into the woods. Whistling was one of her +accomplishments: she whistled very well. The sound of her clear +pipe travelled far and wide. No one to hear her, or, for the +matter of that, to look at her either, would have supposed that +she had a care upon her mind. She bore herself like some +lighthearted, happy girl, who, with unstained conscience, looks +the whole world in the face, thinking what a delightful place it +was for a pretty girl to be in. + +As a matter of fact it was the bright side of the picture which +presented itself to her--the bright side only. In imagination +she saw herself, as she would herself have phrased it, with +"tons of money" and "heaps of friends"; the bright particular +star of a radiant circle. Everywhere she was greeted with +outstretched hands, glad faces and paeans of welcome. Her frocks +were the most numerous and the "sweetest," her carriages and +horses were the finest, everything she had was of the very best, +and she had everything the heart--her heart!--could desire. + +With that union of the practical with the imaginative which was +not the least prominent of her characteristics she there and +then began to inquire of herself what exactly in her new +position she should do. To begin with, there was the delicate +question of what she should call herself. Should she be Mrs. +Lamb or Mrs. Grahame? Should she revert to her maiden +patronymic, or should she start life again, with a fresh name +altogether, one more in consonance with her new position? These +were points she felt which would depend largely upon +circumstances; she might not have so much freedom in the matter +as she might desire. Then there was the question of domicile. +Where should she reside? One thing was certain, she would not +stay where she was--nothing would induce her. If she had her own +way she would never come near the place again--never! As for +living in his house!--in the middle of her brilliant imaginings +the mere thought of such a thing seemed to make her blood run +cold. + +On the instant her mood was changed. She stood still, amid the +trees and bushes. With clenched fists, a new expression in her +eyes, she looked behind her, first over one shoulder, then the +other, then to the right and to the left, as if in search of +something she had no desire to see. A sudden, strange reluctance +seemed to clog her limbs. She listened: there was only the +cawing of some distant rooks and the whisper of the breeze among +the pines. With a laugh at her stupidity, breaking through the +something which constrained her, she went striding on. + +But she had not gone far when a very genuine sound brought her +to a halt. In itself a commonplace, there it was the most +unusual of noises: it was the sound of footsteps, of some one +tramping through the forest. In all the time she had known the +place she had never heard a step except her own. Could it be +Margaret Wallace, still lingering about the haunts she probably +knew well and loved? It would be disconcerting if it were. If +they met--but that was hardly a woman's step. Could it be the +doctor? What was he doing in the forest on foot? Besides, she +had noticed what little pattering steps he took; this person was +striding. + +The walker was hidden from her by a clump of bracken which rose +to a height of some six or seven feet. He was moving in her +direction. Should she retreat? It could probably be done, and +before he caught a glimpse of her. Should she advance and meet +him? or should she wait until he came to her? While she +hesitated, the decision was taken out of her hands. The walker, +threading his way among the bracken, reached a point where the +stalks were shorter. All at once she found herself confronted +by--Gregory Lamb. + +She stared at him with as much amazement as he stared at her, +and her amazement was unbounded. Possibly he was the last person +with whom she would have associated the advancing footsteps; no +thought of him had crossed her mind. Not improbably, since she +at least had cause to suspect that he might be in the +neighbourhood, his surprise was even greater than hers. He stood +looking at her in bewildered silence, as if unable to believe +the evidence of his own eyes. When he did speak the observation +which he made was characteristic. + +"Well, I'm hanged!" + +Her retort was equally in character. + +"I wish you were!" + +"I daresay; but I rather fancy that when it does come to +hanging, where you and I are concerned, it will be a case of the +lady first. Where the deuce have you been all this time? and +what on earth are you doing here?" + +"What business is that of yours? Do you know you're +trespassing?" + +"What business is it of mine? and do I know I'm trespassing? +Well, that's pretty good, considering you're my wife, and the +way you've behaved. Do you happen to know that the police are +scouring the country for you, and that they're only lying low +because they think you're dead, or something?" + +"It's a lie! You're a natural born liar; you tell nothing but +lies." + +"Don't you think you've a little gift of you're own in that +direction? I do! It was bad enough to sneak off from me like +that; but to steal the old girl's money was playing it too low +down!" + +"What are you talking about? What do you mean?" + +"You know very well what I'm talking about! Do you think that I +don't know--and that everybody doesn't know--that you broke into +Mrs. Macconichie's cupboard and stole her savings? A pretty mess +I got into because you were a thief! You don't happen to know, I +suppose, that they locked me up for what you'd done, and that +they only let me go when I proved that that sort of thing wasn't +quite in my line." + +"Serve you right!" + +"What served me right?--locking me up, or letting me go?" + +"Anything would serve you right, you brute!" + +"Brute, am I? All right, my lady! if that's the way you're going +to talk to me I'll soon let the police know whereabouts you are, +and then they'll serve you right. A good taste of prison would +do you good, you dirty thief!" + +"Don't shout like that!" + +"Then don't you call me names. I'm not a thief whatever else I +am." + +"I'm not so sure of that. What are you doing here?" + +"What do you mean, what am I doing here?" + +"I thought you'd gone back to London long ago." + +"Then you're wrong, because I haven't; and what's more, I'm not +likely to go. I've been having a real bad time, that's what I've +been having." + +"Haven't those rich friends of yours sent that remittance you +were always gassing about?" + +"No, they haven't." After a pause, he added, sullenly, "My old +mother's allowing me a pound a week, and I'm living on that. So +now you know." + +"Honest?" + +"It's the gospel truth. So you'll be able to judge for yourself +how likely I am to be able to get back to London on that, +especially as she won't let me have a penny in advance." + +"A nice sort you are!--after the lies you told me about the tons +of money you'd got yourself, and the other tons your friends had +got!--a pound a week!" + +"Anyhow I'm not a thief." + +"And I shouldn't have been a thief if I hadn't listened to your +lies; and very well you know it. I've had enough of you; take +yourself off!" + +"Take myself off?" + +"Yes, take yourself off, before I tell some one to take you." + +"Well! you've got a face! If I do go I'll put the police on to +you, and then you'll sing a different song." + +"You dare!" + +"Dare!" he laughed, not pleasantly. "What is there to dare? I'd +think as little of putting the police on to you as I would of +putting a dog on to a cat. They'd soon show you your place, you +thief!" + +There was an interval of silence, during which she looked at him +over the intervening bracken. If looks could kill he would have +dropped dead where he stood. + +"Well, are you going to take yourself off, or am I to tell them +to take you?" + +"Who's them?--tell away! I think that when I tell them you're my +wife, and that the police have been looking for you for quite a +while, they--whoever they may be!--won't be so keen to interfere +with me as you perhaps fancy. There's another thing: you seem to +be forgetting that you're my wife. When I do go you'll go with +me." + +"Will I? We'll see." + +"We will see; or, if you prefer it, it shall be the other way +about, I'll go with you." + +"Will you?" + +"It'll have to be one or the other, you may take it from me. +Well, are you going to call those friends of yours? Are you +coming with me, or am I to go with you? Which is it to be? I'm +in no hurry; take your time. I'll have a pipe while you're +thinking it over." + +He filled a pipe which he took from his pocket, while she glared +at him. + +"I'm as strong as you; I believe I'm stronger; I believe I could +kill you if I chose." + +"Be a murderer as well as a thief, would you? I shouldn't be +surprised. You mightn't find it so easy to bring off this job as +you did the other; killing a man is not so simple as killing a +pig, take my word for it." + +"Listen to me, Gregory Lamb." + +"I'm listening, Mrs. Lamb, and it gives me real pleasure to do +it." + +"I'll make a rich man of you if you'll take yourself off." + +He stayed the lighted match on its passage to his pipe. + +"You'll make a rich man of me? Now you're singing in quite +another key. How are you going to do it?" + +"I'm staying in the house of a man who's dying." + +"Dying is he? Then what does he want you in the house for? Have +you turned nurse? Is that your latest caper?" + +"Never mind what I've turned. He's a rich man." + +"What do you call rich?--like me?" + +"You fool! He owns all this"--she threw out her arms--"and ever +so much besides." + +"Owns all this? Is it Cuthbert Grahame you're talking about?" + +"What do you know about Cuthbert Grahame?" + +"Only that I happen to be living in one of his cottages--just +over there--and a nice hole it is. But you can't expect much in +the way of board and lodging for a pound a week, especially when +you want some change left out of it. You're living in Cuthbert +Grahame's house? Why, then--great Scot!--you must be the woman +they're talking about who dropped from the skies." A change took +place in the expression of his countenance which in its way was +comical. "A pretty sort of she-devil you must be!" + +"Now what are you talking about?" + +"I know everything. Why, one of the servants up at Cuthbert +Grahame's--Martha Blair--is the daughter of the people I'm +lodging with. They talk of nothing else but you. You've been +passing yourself off as Cuthbert Grahame's wife." + +"Well, what of it?" + +"What of it?--that's good! First theft, then bigamy!" + +"You fool! he's dying." + +"I don't see what difference that makes; from what I understand +he's been dying for years." + +"He's made a will in my favour." + +"Did he tell you?" + +"He did. He's left me everything--every shilling he has in the +world." + +"You're a beauty, upon my soul you are!" + +"And I tell you that he's dying while we are standing here. The +odds are that he'll be dead by the time that I get back." + +"How do you know?" + +"Then everything he has will be mine--ours." + +"Ours?" + +"Ours!--yours and mine!--if you can keep a still tongue in your +head, and keep on pretending that you know nothing about me." + +He was trembling. + +"What about the Mrs. Grahame?" + +"Stuff the Mrs. Grahame! After he's dead I can soon be Mrs. Lamb +again. What's to stop me?" + +"Shall we have to live here?" + +She shuddered, involuntarily. + +"Live here?--not much! We'll clear out of this in double quick +time. We'll take a house in London, and live like princes." + +He moistened his lips with his tongue. + +"You'll act on the square with me?" + +"Of course I will, if you'll act on the square with me. Look +here, there's a ten-pound note for you. It's all I've got about +me, but as you seem hard up you may find it useful. You go back, +and unless I'm mistaken by to-morrow morning you'll hear he's +dead. It won't take me long to put things ship-shape. Don't you +write or try to see me, unless I give you the office. I'll keep +you posted in how things are going. And so soon as I can lay +hands on a good lot of the ready, if you like we'll go up to +town together, and we'll have a real old spree as we go." + +"Belle, you--you're----" + +He stopped, as if his vocabulary failed him altogether. + +"Yes, I know I am; I'm all that, and more besides." + +She laughed, and he laughed. In the laughter of neither of them +was there any merriment. The sounds they emitted were merely +mechanical. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV + + IN CUTHBERT GRAHAME'S ROOM + + +On Isabel's return to the house she was greeted on the threshold +by Martha, the Martha Blair whose connection with Gregory Lamb's +present place of residence seemed destined to have a +considerable bearing on Isabel's future life, and, at least, to +settle the debated question of what her future name and title +were to be. Martha's whole attitude was significant of some +great happening. Her hands were raised; it seemed that if +possible her hair would have been raised too; her eyebrows were +elevated to quite a perceptible degree. Her eyes and mouth were +wide open; agitation, of a not unpleasant kind, streamed from +every pore of her. Behind was Jane, every whit as interested as +her companion; but as she happened to be both the younger and +the smaller her opportunities for display were less pronounced. +Outside stood Dr. Twelves' dogcart; the horse, untended and +untethered, apparently content to stand still as long as any one +desired. + +Martha broke into speech before Isabel had a chance to plant her +foot upon the doorstep. + +"Oh, Mrs. Grahame, the master! Mr. Cuthbert, ma'am!" + +"Mr. Cuthbert, ma'am!" echoed Jane from the rear. + +"Mr. Cuthbert? Well, what's the matter with Mr. Cuthbert? Let me +come in, don't stand there blocking up the way! Do you hear, +what's the matter with Mr. Cuthbert?" + +"He's dead, ma'am--he's dead." + +The words broke from both the girls in chorus. + +"Dead? What do you mean? What nonsense are you talking? He was +well enough when I went out. I've never seen him better." + +"He's had an accident, ma'am, and it's killed him." + +"Accident? How could he have an accident? Is Dr. Twelves in the +house? Where is he?" + +"The doctor is in Mr. Cuthbert's room. He's been there this +half-hour and more." + +She went upstairs to Mr. Cuthbert's room. Her pulse did not +quicken; inwardly as well as outwardly she remained calm; she +was a woman whose self-control was above the average; yet she +was reluctant to enter that room. It was with an effort she +induced herself to grip the handle; when she had done so she had +to force herself to give it the necessary twist. Even then she +lingered on the threshold. + +"Who's there?" came the doctor's voice, in accents of inquiry. +She showed herself. + +"What's happened? What's the matter?" + +The doctor was standing at the head of the bed. He had something +in either hand. Instead of replying to her inquiries he looked +at her from beneath his overhanging brows, as if he had been her +accuser. + +"Why do you look at me like that? Do you hear me ask you what +has happened? Have you all lost your senses? Why don't you +answer?" He waved his hand towards the bed. Her gaze followed +his gesture, with an effort. She knew what she would see; she +did not want to see it. Instantly her glance returned to the +doctor. + +"Is he--is he dead?" + +"Quite dead." + +"But I don't understand. When I left him he seemed brighter and +better than I have ever seen him before." + +"He's been killed." + +"Killed! What do you mean, he's been killed?" + +"Come here, I'll show you." She went a little closer, +unwillingly. "Come this side of the bed." She did as he bade +her, with leaden feet. "You see, the pillows have fallen; he's +been choked." + +"But how can they have fallen? They were all right when I left +him. Has any one been in since?" + +"Are you sure they were all right when you left him?" + +"Perfectly sure. I tell you I have never seen him in better +health or in brighter spirits." + +"He could not have pushed them from under him himself." + +"He might have done it in a fit." + +"Perhaps; but it would have had to be a singular sort of a fit. +You say you are sure they were in their usual position when you +left him?" + +"Why do you ask me that again? Why do you look at me like that, +and speak in such a tone? Are you suggesting that I have had a +hand in his death?" + +"I am suggesting nothing." + +"It seems to me that you are suggesting a good deal, which you +dare not say right out. At least your manner is peculiar--but +that it generally is. If you have anything to say, say it--like +a man!--at once! Don't hint it, like a sneak. I hate your +underhanded ways." + +"I found this under his pillow--his one remaining pillow." + +"It's his will. He made it this morning." + +"So I am told by the two servants. I perceive it is in your +writing. Did he dictate to you this document?" + +"He did. I wrote it from his dictation, word for word as he told +me. I wrote it yesterday afternoon. He read it through, and kept +it under his pillow all night. He signed it this morning." + +"It seems odd that, after completing such a will as this, he +should have immediately died--in such a manner. If he could come +to life again I wonder what he'd say." + +"Give me that will, if you please, Dr. Twelves." + +"Hadn't I better hand it to his lawyer for safe keeping?" + +"His lawyer? His lawyer is now my lawyer; I will give all +necessary instructions. The will will be in safe keeping with +me. Give it me at once." He gave it her. "What have you in your +other hand? Some more property of mine?" + +"It is the miniature of the woman he loved best in the world. +Don't you think it might go with him, in his coffin, to the +grave?" + +"Give it me. I will give all necessary instructions, as I have +already told you. Your interference is not desired, nor will it +be tolerated. To be quite frank with you, Dr. Twelves--it is +always my desire to be frank and open--I have endured too much +from you already; I will endure nothing more. The less I see, or +hear, of you in the future the better I shall be pleased, since +you are, in all respects, the most objectionable person I ever +met. Don't you venture to intrude yourself again; if medical +attendance is required it will be obtained elsewhere. I +am now the mistress of this house--since there is no master, +its mistress in the most literal sense. Everything is +mine--everything. Be so good as to bear that in mind." + +He looked at her, and smiled. + +"I am not likely to forget that--ever." + +She did not know which she liked least--his tone, his look, or +his smile. + + + + + + BOOK II + + THE WIDOW + + + + + CHAPTER XV + + "THE GORDIAN KNOT" + + +Mr. Talfourd twiddled the bunch of La France roses between his +fingers with a smile which was scarcely one of satisfaction. +They were very fine roses--in just that stage of bursting bud in +which the La France is seen at its best. In London La France +roses cost money, even when they are poor examples of their +kind; those were good enough for exhibition. There were a great +many of them, and they were tied about with a beautiful green +ribbon, in charming contrast with the blooms. They had probably +cost some one at least half a sovereign. They were for him; they +had cost him nothing; yet they did not seem to afford him +pleasure. + +The fact was he was puzzled. He did not quite know what to make +of the situation; what he did understand he did not like. + +"This gets beyond a jest," he told himself. "Because I happened +to mention, accidentally, that La France roses were my favourite +flowers, I didn't expect to find a bouquet of them on my table +every morning awaiting my arrival. Either it means something or +it doesn't; either way I don't like it. I'm getting three +hundred pounds a year in cash for doing I don't quite know what, +and apparently half as much again in flowers. It won't do--it +will not do." He gave the unoffending roses an impatient twirl. +"The point of the joke is that when I said La France roses were +my favourite flowers I was speaking a little beside the mark. I +don't know that I have a favourite flower. They're Meg's--I was +thinking of her at the time, as I generally am. I don't want +Mrs. Lamb to think that she is giving me flowers, when she is +really giving them to Meg, to whom I invariably pass them on. I +don't know that she would really relish the notion of my giving +her flowers to some one else. Confound her impudence!" + +He threw the roses from him on to the table with a show of +roughness which they, at any rate, had done nothing to deserve. +As if conscious that his temper was being vented in the wrong +quarter, picking them up again he regarded them with looks of +whimsical self-reproach. + +While he was still eyeing them the door was opened, and a +masculine voice inquired from without-- + +"May I come in?" + +Without waiting for a reply the inquirer entered. It was Mr. +Gregory Lamb. A much more resplendent Gregory Lamb than the one +whose acquaintance we have previously made. The Gregory Lamb we +met in the wood was purely an affair of make-believe--not of +very plausible make-believe. His attire then looked as if it +wished you to think it had cost a great deal of money--but the +trained eye knew better. There could be no doubt that everything +about this Gregory Lamb was the most expensive of its kind--only +the trained eye knew really how expensive. The impression he +conveyed was that he had got as much on him in the way of money +as he conveniently could--probably that impression was not far +wrong. Yet the result was scarcely satisfactory. Especially was +this shown to be the case when he brought himself into +comparison with the man who was already in the room. + +Both were young; both bore themselves well; both were +good-looking; yet there could not be a moment's doubt as to +which was the pleasanter to look upon. It was not only that one +was obviously a gentleman, and the other just as obviously was +not; nor was it that one looked a clever, an intellectual, man, +and the other emphatically did not; still less was it an affair +of costume, since Gregory Lamb was overdressed and Harry +Talfourd's attire was simply plain and neat. It was something +subtler than any of these things which made the one attractive +and the other the reverse. Gregory Lamb had never made a friend +worth having in all his life--and never would; Talfourd made +friends wherever he went. He could not himself have said why; it +was certainly not because he tried. + +To begin with, Mr. Lamb's manner was unfortunate. His intention +was to be on terms of hail-fellow-well-met with every one; to be +no respecter of persons; to be "my dear chap" with Tom, Dick and +Harry. As a matter of fact, there was an air of patronage about +everything he said and did which was perhaps the more +insufferable because unconscious. He came into the room with +what he meant to be an air of jaunty geniality. + +"All alone? I thought you would be. It's not your time for +receiving visitors, is it? Just come; I heard you knock; must +have time to breathe before you let them in--eh? Those are fine +roses." + +"They are not bad ones." + +"Bad ones!--I should think they weren't. They oughtn't to be; I +happen to know what my wife paid for them." He laughed, as if he +sneered. "Sends you them every morning, doesn't she? Standing +order, I hear. Talfourd, you're in luck." + +Mr. Talfourd's manner was as cold as the other's was warm. + +"Mrs. Lamb is very kind--kinder than I deserve." + +"Perhaps she knows what you deserve better than you do--trust +her, she's no simpleton. When she takes a fancy she has her +reasons. I say, old man, I want you to do me a favour." + +"I shall be happy to do you a service if I can." + +"There's no doubt about the can--not the least in the +world--you'll find that it's as easy as winking. I want you to +get my wife to let me go for a little run to Monte Carlo." + +"I beg your pardon?--I don't understand." + +"It's this way. I'll be frank with you, Talfourd. I look upon +you as a friend, my boy. I can't go without cash; I'm +stony-broke; my wife holds the money-bags. You tell her--you +know how!"--Mr. Lamb winked--"that you think the run would do me +good, and tell her to give me a thousand to do it with, +and--I'll do as much for you one day, upon my soul I will." + +Mr. Talfourd stared at the speaker in undisguised amazement. + +"You credit me with powers of persuasion which are altogether +beyond any I possess." + +"Oh no, I don't"--Mr. Lamb laughed again--"I know better than +that! You tell her what I've asked you to tell her, and I bet +you anything I cross by to-night's boat, with notes for a +thousand in my pocket. She'd send me to the North Pole at a hint +from you." + +There was scarcely such a friendly expression on Mr. Talfourd's +face as on the other's. + +"Are you not forgetting that Mrs. Lamb is my employer? that I am +merely her servant since I receive her wages?" + +"Her servant?"--the laugh again--"I hope she doesn't overwork +you. Come, Talfourd, be the good sort you are, help a lame dog +over a stile. I'm spoiling for a flutter, and I'm dead sure that +the only chance I have of getting it is by means of a helping +word from you." + +"You must excuse me, Mr. Lamb. I am engaged to do clerical work +for Mrs. Lamb. I should not presume to speak to her on the +subject you have mentioned." + +"Presume?--what ho! Now Talfourd, you're no kid any more than I +am. You know as well as I do that you can twist my wife round +your finger. All I want you to do is to give her a twist for my +particular benefit." + +"I can give you no answer but the one I have already given." + +"Oh yes, you can--and you will. I'll look in for it to-morrow +morning--by that time you'll have thought it over. You're +not so crusty as you make yourself out to be. That'll be +four-and-twenty hours clean thrown away; and when you're +spoiling for a burst like I am, that's a deuce of time. But I +shall have every confidence in your kind offices when you've had +a chance to see just what I'm driving at." + +When Mr. Lamb had retired Mr. Talfourd seemed unhappy. + +"Every time that man talks to me I want to kick him. I wonder if +he affects other people in the same way--the unmentionable +animal! If, as the husband of his wife, he thinks himself +entitled to talk to me like that, it's time for me to think +things over. I must know where I am moving. Three hundred pounds +are three hundred pounds--I know that as well as any one--but +they may be earned too dearly. It is one thing to be Mrs. Lamb's +secretary, quite another to be----" He did not finish the +sentence even mentally. Sitting down to the table he drew +towards him the little heap of correspondence which was supposed +to justify his secretarial existence. There were about a dozen +envelopes, mostly containing circulars of different kinds. "I +believe that the letters are examined, and any of the slightest +importance retained, before they are sent to me. The idea of my +receiving three hundred pounds a year for opening circulars is +too thin." + +While he sat with both elbows on the table, staring ruefully in +front of him, the door opened again, and Mrs. Lamb came in. + +"At work? I hope I'm not disturbing you." + +She had changed more than her husband, whether for the better or +for the worse was not easy to determine. So far as appearance +went she had become a much better imitation of a lady. Society, +or what with her passed as society, had smoothed away some of +the angles. She had the air of a woman who had to do with many +persons of different sorts, and had learned to adapt herself to +them all. One felt that she was probably a popular character on +the stage on which she had chosen to perform--successful, at +least within certain limits. One did not wonder that it was so, +if only because, in her own way, she was good to look at. + +That way, however, did not happen to be Mr. Talfourd's--which +was unfortunate. Indeed, she inspired him with a curious +feeling. He was afraid of her. It seemed absurd, but he was. For +one thing, he realised that she was not only a clever, an +unusually clever woman, but that her cleverness lay in a +direction in which he was incompetent, and would perhaps +prefer to be. Again, he felt that she read him like an open +book, knew him to his finger-tips, while she was beyond his +comprehension--where, again, he would possibly prefer her to +remain. He had an uncomfortable suspicion that she saw in him +something which was not savoury; that her keenest glances were +continually directed on his weakest points; that it would please +her to find him an undesirable creature. He had no overt cause +to suppose this was so. So far she had been to him nothing but a +friend--a friend in need. But on such a point even the vaguest +shadow of a doubt was disquieting. + +He rose as she came in. + +"It is not possible for you to disturb me--I wish it were." + +"You wish it were? Why?" + +"Because in that case I should be really doing some genuine +work--which I never am. My post is too much of a sinecure; my +conscience will not allow me to remain your secretary much +longer if there continues to be nothing to do." + +"You want something to do? You shall have it--very soon--at +least, I think so. I have been reading your play." + +"My play?" + +He had noticed that she was carrying in her hand what looked +like some typewritten MSS., in brown-paper covers. Now, with a +start, he recognised them as his own. + +"'The Gordian Knot.' Mr. Winton gave it me to read." + +"Winton! What right----" + +He was about to ask what right Winton had to do anything of the +kind, but perceiving that that would scarcely be a civil +inquiry, he stopped, not, however, before she understood what +had been on the tip of his tongue. + +"Mr. Winton had every right to give it me to read, as, I think, +you will yourself admit when I explain. I have, of course, known +for a long time that Mr. Winton would like to commence +management on his own account. The other afternoon he told me +that he had a play which he would produce at once if he could +only find some one who would furnish at any rate part of the +necessary capital. I asked by whom it was. He said, 'It's by a +man named Talfourd--Harry Talfourd'. You may easily believe that +that did arouse my interest." She said this in a tone which +seemed to make him go all over pins and needles; it was almost +as if she had caressed him. "I mentioned to Mr. Winton that, +given certain conditions, it was possible that I might be +tempted to enter into such a speculation. He offered to send me +the MS. It reached me yesterday. I read it last night and again +this morning--not once, but three or four times. Mr. Talfourd, +it's first-rate." + +"It's very good of you to say so." + +"It's not good of me. It's a simple statement of a simple fact. +If it were rubbish I should tell you so plainly--if you were the +dearest friend I have in the world. On such matters I have no +hesitation; and I think you will confess that this is a matter +on which I do know something. Your play's first-rate. If we can +agree about terms it shall have an immediate production." + +"I hardly know what to say to you." + +He did not. On that play he had founded more hopes than he would +have cared to mention to that friendly lady. Its success would +mean so much to him, and to the woman he loved. It had gone the +usual round of the untried dramatist's play. Hope deferred again +and again had made his heart sick. He had begun almost to +despair that it would ever see the light. Yet now that he was +told that if there was only an agreement about terms--as if +there was any likelihood of a disagreement!--it should have an +immediate production, he was not at all sure that his feelings +were what, under the circumstances, he had supposed they would +have been. It was perfectly true, he did not know what to say to +her. She was glib enough. + +"Say?--say nothing. Let's talk business, and stick to that. I +mean to. You understand that this is purely a business +proposition which I am about to make to you, and absolutely +nothing else. If I go into this matter it will be on strictly +commercial grounds, and on those only." + +"I wish I were sure of it." + +"It's not nice of you to doubt my word, Mr. Talfourd; before I +have finished you will be sorry for having done so. Before +entering into negotiations for the production of your play, do +you know what would be one of the preliminary conditions I +should be disposed to make?" + +"I have not a notion." + +"That I should be your leading lady." + +"Mrs. Lamb!" + +"Mr. Talfourd! I presume you are aware that I can act?" + +"I know that you have made some successful appearances in--in +amateur theatricals." + +"Mr. Winton will inform you that those amateur theatricals were +not greatly below the standard of any professional +representations you have seen. Apart from that--this is strictly +between ourselves--I may mention that once upon a time I was +professionally connected with the stage." She did not think it +necessary to mention with what branch of it. "Your heroine, Lady +Glover----" + +"Lady Glover is hardly my heroine." + +"She is the leading feminine character--the pivotal character; +the one about whom the whole thing turns. To my mind the one +creature of real flesh and blood." + +"I had hoped that Agnes Eliot was a character of some +importance." + +"Agnes Eliot?--pooh!--namby-pamby, bread-and-butter miss! She's +not bad in her way, and, I suppose, in a pit-and-gallery sense, +she's the heroine--and not an ineffective one either; but I +assure you I have not the slightest wish to play Agnes Eliot. +Susan Stone, who becomes Lady Glover, is a woman who, in the +face of all obstacles, achieves success; continually confronted +by difficulties, she treats them as so many Gordian knots; she +cuts them and walks straight on. Quite indifferent as to the +means she employs, she always gets there. Considering the +present craze among actresses for what they are pleased to call +sympathetic parts, I think you will agree that that is not a +character which would appeal to every one." + +"Certainly. Winton is of opinion that in casting the play the +chief difficulty would be to find an adequate representative. As +you say, many actresses don't like to act wicked women." + +"I don't know about an adequate representative, but I'm quite +willing to act Lady Glover, and, although I say it myself, I +think you'll find that I shall be equal to the occasion. Indeed, +I am ready to make a sporting bet with you that, in my hands, +Lady Glover will take the town by storm. There's a popular +fallacy that people don't like wicked women--it is a fallacy. +When they're of the right brand, they love 'em--especially men. +Give me a chance, and I'll prove it. I'll guarantee that +seventy-five per cent, of masculine playgoers shall fall in love +with Lady Glover--if I play her. What do you say?" + +"I don't understand why you should wish to play her." + +"How's that?" + +"The answer seems so obvious. You--a lady of position, of +fortune, with troops of friends!" + +"Change, Mr. Talfourd, is the salt of life. I'm very fond of +salt. Before I read your play I had no more idea of doing +anything of the kind than I had of flying to the moon. But Lady +Glover went straight to my heart. I saw at once what magnificent +fun it would be to give to the stage a really adequate +representation of the naughty feminine. I knew I could do +it--and I can. So why shouldn't I?" + +"You understand that Mr. Winton has the refusal of the play, and +that I should first have to consult him." + +"Of course I understand that Winton has the refusal of the play, +and of course I understand that you will have to consult him. +I'm not afraid of Winton. He shall be the leading man, and cast +the other parts as he pleases. I'll be Lady Glover, and find the +money. I'll be an ideal Lady Glover. I believe in your heart you +know it. Winton and I between us will make of the play a +monstrous success, and so your fortune will be made, and a few +shillings added to my own. I should dearly like to make your +fortune, if only for one reason--because you don't like me." + +"Mrs. Lamb!" + +"Which is the more odd, because men generally do. Do you +remember our first meeting?" + +"I'm never likely to forget it." + +"You don't say that in a tone which suggests an unsophisticated +compliment. I had read that thing of yours in the _Cornhill_. +Frank Staines said that he had the honour of your acquaintance; +that you were clever on quite unusual lines--as he put it, 'a +cut above the market'--and that in consequence you'd been having +a pretty rough time. You recollect that it was at an early stage +of our acquaintance that I offered you the post of private +secretary." + +"I wonder if, when you did so, you knew that I'd nearly reached +my last shilling?" + +"I'd an inkling. If you hadn't you'd have said no." This was so +literally the truth that he was silent. She understood him so +much better than he did her. He had an irritating feeling that +she was treating him as if he were some plastic material, which +she was gradually fashioning into the shape she desired. "I've +done you nothing else than good turns----" + +"I know it, quite well." + +"And yet, actually, I believe, on that account, you seem to +dislike me more and more." + +"I do assure you, Mrs. Lamb, that you are wrong. I do hope I'm +not the blackguard you seem to imagine." + +"I am not wrong, Mr. Talfourd--in a matter of that sort I seldom +am. And you're not a blackguard; you're altogether the other +way. It's a case of Dr. Fell--the reason why you don't like me +you cannot tell. It's not your fault at all--it's sort of +congenital. Don't worry! But that being so, since I have already +done you one or two good turns, it would be delightful to be +able to do you a crowning good turn--to make your fortune; to +make you the most successful man of the day--you, the only man I +ever met who really did, and does, dislike me. + +"Mrs. Lamb, I--I can't tell you how you make me feel." + +"I wouldn't try." + +He did not. She looked at him and smiled, while he stood before +her, with flushed cheeks and downcast eyes, like some shamefaced +schoolboy. + + + + + CHAPTER XVI + + MARGARET IS PUZZLED + + +Miss Dorothy Johnson, balancing herself on the edge of the +table, was playing catch-ball with a pair of gloves. + +"Margaret Wallace, you're one of the sillies!" + +"Evidently you are not the only person who is of that opinion." + +"That's right--put the worst construction on everything I say, +and think yourself smart." + +"It's just as well that some one should think so. Dollie, +sometimes I'm very near to the conviction that it's no +good--that nothing's any good, and, especially, that I'm no +good; that I might as well own myself beaten right away." + +"Well, you are beaten this time, that's sure. What ought +to be just as sure is that you don't mean to be beaten every +time--there's the whole philosophy of life for you in a +nutshell." + +"But suppose I'm dragging Harry down? I shouldn't be surprised +if it's all through me that his MSS. keep on being returned. +I said to him, 'Let me make drawings to illustrate your +stories--I'd love to'. And I do love to! 'Then we'll send the +stories and the drawings to the editors together.' But they +nearly all come back. I've a horrid feeling that it's my +drawings which ruin them." + +"Stuff! It's Harry's work that's no good." + +"No good? How dare you! You've said yourself over and over again +that it's splendid." + +"That's what's against it--it's splendid." Miss Johnson, +stretching her right arm to its extreme length, dangled her +gloves between the tips of her fingers. "Margaret Wallace, +literature means to me at least three pounds a week, it may be +four, if possible, five. I can live on three, be comfortable on +four, a swell on five. The problem being thus stated in all its +beautiful simplicity, it only remains for me to discover the +quickest and easiest solution. I have learned, from experience, +that the _Home Muddler_ is willing to give me half a guinea for +a column of drivel, and the _Hearthstone Smasher_ fifteen +shillings for another. The _Family Flutterer_ prints eight or +ten thousand words of an endless serial at five shillings a +thousand--one of these days I mean to strike for seven-and-six. +But in the meantime there you are--the pursuit of literature has +brought me bread and cheese. Why doesn't your Harry tread the +same path?" + +"The idea!" + +"Of course!--the idea!--and that's where he gets left. It's my +experience that in literature----" + +"Literature!" + +"I said literature. I was observing, when you interrupted, that +it is my experience that in literature"--Miss Johnson paused, +Miss Wallace was contemptuously silent--"men always get paid at +least twice as much as the women. I don't know why; it seems to +be one of the rules of the game. It therefore follows that if +your Harry did as I do he would earn six, eight, ten pounds a +week, which, with management, would keep two--not to speak of +your drawings, which ought to bring in something. I believe the +_Family Flutterer_ pays as much as seven-and-six for a full +page." + +"My dear Dollie, you know as well as I do that we both of us +would rather starve." + +"Sweet Meg, I'm not saying you're right or wrong, only, if you +have resolved to eschew the easily earned loaves and fishes, +don't revile because, having set out on the track of the +rarer creatures, you discover--what every one knows, and you +know!--that they are difficult to find. My private opinion +is that Harry will find them one day--if he keeps on long +enough--though I don't know when." + +"You're a comforting sort of person." + +"I'm a practical sort of person, which is better. Cheer up, Meg! +he'll get there--and perhaps you will too--though of course his +stories are better than your drawings." + +"I don't need you to tell me that." + +Miss Johnson, descending from the table, put her arm round the +girl who was seated on the other side. + +"You poor darling! I'm a perfect pig! I say, Meg, are you hard +up?" + +"I always am." + +"Beyond the ordinary, I mean?" + +"If you mean, can you lend me, or give me, any money, you +can't--thank you very much. I'm going to hoe my own furrow, +right to the end." + +"How about Harry? He gets some of his stuff accepted; then +there's the three hundred pounds a year certain which he gets +for being that party's secretary. I call that practicality, if +you like! He ought to be getting on first-rate." + +"He doesn't seem to think so, anyhow. As for what you call the +three hundred pounds a year certain, I doubt if anything could +be more uncertain, the engagement may terminate any day. I +believe that Harry is really more worried than I am, and--and +that's saying a good deal." + +"Then the marriage is not coming off just yet?" + +"Marriage!--and you call yourself a practical person!--how can +you be so absurd?" + +"I am not sure that I am absurd. If I ever loved a man--which I +am never likely to do, men are such beings!--really loved him, +and knew that he loved me, I shouldn't hesitate to marry him on +a pound a week. Marriage, properly understood, is a spur; it's +not, necessarily, anything like the clog romantic people like +you seem to think it is." + +When Miss Johnson had gone Margaret Wallace went and stood +before a photograph which hung over the mantelpiece--the +photograph of a man. + +"I think, Cuthbert Grahame, it's possible that you'll shortly be +revenged; if you knew just how things are I fancy you'd be of +opinion that you're revenged already. If you'd been even a +shadowy semblance of the father you once professed to be, I--I +shouldn't be wondering where I'm to get my dinner from." + +She examined the physiognomy of the man in front of her as if, +instead of being the most familiar of faces, she saw it now for +the first time. Going back to her seat at the table, she was +examining the drawings which had accompanied the returned MS., +as if desirous of learning what improvement she could make in +them, when there came a tap at the door. + +"Come in." Mr. Talfourd entered. In a moment she was in his +arms. "Harry!" + +"Meg!--more roses for you." He handed her the La France roses +which had been presented to him by Mrs. Lamb. "What are you +doing?" + +She was eyeing the roses, without any great show of enthusiasm, +which was possibly lacking because she knew from whom they had +originally come. + +"Harry, I've more bad news for you--I never seem to have +anything else. The story's back from the _Searchlight_." + +"What does it matter?" + +"I don't like to hear you talk like that, because, you see, we +both know that it matters, dear. Harry, do you think that it +may have been returned because my drawings aren't up to the +mark--honestly?" + +"Honestly, I am certain it has not. Your drawings are at least +as good as my story. I have never met any one who can illustrate +me as well as you do." + +"You mean that? If I weren't Margaret Wallace would you say so +still?" + +"I should. I should congratulate myself on having met some one +who could illustrate me as I like to be illustrated. You +misunderstood me just now. I said what does it matter, because +it doesn't matter, in view of something of much greater +importance which I have to say to you." + +"Harry! what is it?" + +"I hardly know how to begin, it's such a queer position. It's +this--in a way, my play's accepted." + +"'The Gordian Knot'?--by Mr. Winton?" + +"No, not by Winton, by Mrs. Lamb." + +"Mrs. Lamb?--Harry!" He told her how the play had come into Mrs. +Lamb's hands, and how that lady had expressed her willingness to +give it immediate production, on the understanding that she was +to create Lady Glover. "But I didn't know she could act. Why +should she want to anyhow?--she a rich woman!--especially such a +part! Lady Glover's a horrible creature! I suppose you think +she'd make a mess of it--and of course she would. She must be a +very conceited person." + +"Sweetheart, shall I tell you, quite frankly, what I really +think?" + +"You hadn't better tell me anything else." + +"Then I'll make you my father confessor. I've a strong feeling, +amounting to a positive conviction, that she'd make a +magnificent Lady Glover. That's one reason why I hesitate." + +"Now I don't understand. If she makes a success of the part, +what else do you want?" + +"I'll endeavour to explain. For one thing, I think it possible +that she'll make it the part of the play, and so put Winton in +the shade entirely. In the theatre he proposes to manage I'm +certain he's no intention to be overshadowed by any one. Not +that, in such a matter, I'm likely to be too sensitive about his +feelings--but there it is. What, from my point of view, would be +more serious, is that it is extremely probable that, by her +rendition of Lady Glover, she'll warp the play out of what I +intended to be its setting. As she was talking just now it +dawned upon me that, in her hands, the play might become +transformed--something altogether different to what I meant it +to be." + +"But if it's a success?" + +"Meg, I find it difficult to put into words just what's in my +mind. Of course if it's successful it will mean----" + +"It will mean everything." + +"It will mean a good deal; but it will mean everything I'd +rather it didn't mean if the success is owing to her." + +"But it will be your play. In one sense its success will always +be dependent upon others. Really, Harry, I don't follow you. +What is your objection to Mrs. Lamb? She's never done you any +harm." + +"No, she hasn't done me any harm--as yet." + +"As yet! Do you think she means to? Considering that she +proposes to produce your play, and bids fair to make a great +success of it, it doesn't look as if she did." + +"Meg--you'll laugh at me--I'm afraid of her." + +"Afraid of her?--of Mrs. Lamb!--Harry!" + +"I've never been comfortable in her presence since the first +moment I've met her. When she's there I have the sort of feeling +which I imagine a nervous person might have in the neighbourhood +of a dangerous lunatic. I don't know when or how she will break +out, but I feel that sometime, somehow, she will, and that then +I shall have to struggle with her for my life." + +"Harry! are you in earnest?" + +He laughed oddly. + +"Meg, upon my word, I can't tell you. She hypnotises me, that +woman--she hypnotises me. Her influence is on me even after I +have left her." + +"She must be a curious person. I should like to meet her." + +"Meet her?" + +He shuddered, involuntarily. "Rather than that you should meet +her I'd---- If I can prevent it you shall not meet her." + +"Why not? I know plenty of people who have met her, and who seem +to think her a distinctly agreeable person--hospitable, good +company, amusing, kindhearted, generous to a degree. Tell me, +Harry, has she ever behaved to you in any way as she ought not +to have done?" + +"She has not, in one jot or tittle." + +"To your knowledge has she ever done, or even said, anything +wrong?" + +"No. Still, I would rather she did not produce my play, +especially if she is to act Lady Glover." + +"Will she produce it if she doesn't?" + +"I doubt it." + +"There is something at the back of your mind which you're +keeping to yourself. When I think of all that the success of +'The Gordian Knot' would mean to us, of how you've looked +forward to its production, of how we've talked and talked of it, +your present attitude is incomprehensible. It doesn't follow +that because Mrs. Lamb produces your play--and even acts in +it!--that you need therefore make of her a bosom friend if you'd +rather not. I don't suppose it's only generosity which impels +her; I daresay she has an axe of her own to grind." + +"You may be sure of it." + +"Then so have you. I don't see how it matters if it's A, B, or C +who grinds it, so long as it's ground--properly ground; and you +seem sure that it will be that." + +"I have little doubt of it." + +"Then tell me, Harry, what is the real, downright reason why you +don't wish Mrs. Lamb to produce your play, and act in it?" + +"Because, Meg, I'm afraid of her." + +"Afraid of her!--of a woman!--who you yourself admit has never +done you anything but good! Harry, you're beyond my +comprehension." + +Before he could answer there was a knock at the door. A servant +entered with a card on a tray. + +"A gentleman wishes to see you, miss." + +She looked at the card. + +"'David Twelves, M.D., Edin.'. It can't be Dr. Twelves of +Pitmuir?" + +A voice came from the door. + +"It's that same man." + + + + + CHAPTER XVII + + AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR + + +In appearance the doctor had altered but little since we saw him +last. He was the same little wizened old man, with the slight +stoop, and the sunken eyes which looked out so keenly from under +the thick, overhanging thatch of his shaggy eyebrows. When she +heard his voice, and saw him, Margaret, running to him--before +Harry, before the servant--put her arms about his neck (she +could easily do it, since he was the shorter), and, after +looking at him fixedly, as if to make sure that he was still the +same man, kissed him on the lips. + +"Dr. Twelves, to think of your coming to see me after all these +years!" + +"And whose fault is it that I haven't come before? whose fault +I'd like to know?" + +"It certainly isn't mine." + +"Not yours? when I hadn't a notion where to look for you, and +you took care that I hadn't? It's only by the grace of God I've +chanced upon you now. I was looking in a bit of a magazine, at +an illustration which seemed to me to be pretty fair, when I saw +your name in the corner--Margaret Wallace--in your own +handwriting. I can tell you I jumped--there, in the railway +carriage--so that I daresay my fellow-passengers thought that +I'd a sudden gouty twinge or, maybe, rheumatism, for none can +say that I look like a gouty subject. I went straight to the +office where the magazine is published, and I asked them to tell +me where you might be found. I believe they thought I'd designs +upon your life, or, at least, upon your purse. I had to tell +them such a yarn before they'd tell me. Then I took care to +follow the girl up the stairs, so that, if you meant to deny +yourself, you shouldn't have a chance." + +"Deny myself?--to you?--doctor! what a notion!--as if I should!" +By now the servant had retired; Miss Wallace, who still retained +a hand upon her visitor's shoulder, had brought him into the +room. "Harry, this is Dr. Twelves, of whom you have so often +heard me speak. Doctor, this is Mr. Talfourd, whose wife I hope +one day to be." + +"I trust, young gentleman, that your deserts are equal to your +good fortune, and that you're properly conscious how great that +is. I've known this lassie since the time she seemed all hair +and legs, for those were the parts of her you noticed most, and +there hasn't been a day on which I haven't wanted her to be my +wife." + +"Now, doctor, that's contrary to the fact; you know you told me +more than once that Providence had marked you out to be a +bachelor." + +"And wasn't that self-evident, since you wouldn't have me? Now, +Margaret Wallace, what have you been doing?" + +"Doing? I was talking to Harry when you came in." + +"I'll be bound that it's plenty of talking to Harry that you do, +and will do--particularly later on, when you're Mrs. Harry." + +"Doctor!" + +"What I mean was, have you made your fortune? or are you drawing +pictures for your daily bread?" + +She looked at Mr. Talfourd quizzically. + +"I have one eye upon my daily bread." + +"And it isn't too much of it you see, by the looks of you. +You're peaked, and you're thin." + +"Oh, doctor! I'm sure I'm not." + +"And I'm sure you are, and by virtue of my profession I ought to +know. It's a pretty market to which you've brought your pigs. +You might be one of the richest women in England, instead of +being half-starved--with white cheeks and tired eyes." + +"Doctor, how dare you say such things! It's not true! You've not +improved!" + +"I'm thinking you've not improved either. You've a stubborn +heart. Why, all this time, haven't you let some of us know +something about you?--if it was only where a line might reach +you." + +"You know very well why, and I did go to see Mr. Grahame." + +"You went to see Cuthbert Grahame? When?" She mentioned the +date. "Girl, you're dreaming. It was the day after that he +died." + +"The day after that he died? I knew he was dead. I heard of it +long afterwards by a side wind; but I have never heard any +particulars. You none of you told me anything." + +"How were we to, when you'd hidden yourself from us in this +great city?" + +"Of what did he die?" + +"If you ask what was on the certificate I can tell you; but if +you want to know how death came to him you must inquire of his +wife." + +"His wife?" + +"When he died he was a married man, according to the law of +Scotland." + +"Dr. Twelves, are you jesting?" + +"I'm not. On the day he died he made a will leaving her all that +he had in the world--and she had it." + +"Who was she?" + +"Beyond saying that she was no better than she ought to be, I +can tell you nothing." + +"Was she some one from the neighbourhood?" + +"She was not; she was from England. She dropped from the clouds. +I should say--if I may be allowed to do so in this company--on +her road to hell. What passed between you and Cuthbert Grahame +when you saw him on that day before he died?" + +"I didn't see him. Nannie wouldn't let me." + +"Nannie wouldn't let you?" + +"She would not. She said that Mr. Grahame had forbidden her to +admit me into the house." + +"She's never spoken a word to me about it. What's been the +matter with the woman? But there's something ails your story. +That day, and for many days afterwards, she was lying in bed +with a broken leg. Was it from her bedroom that she shouted out +to you?" + +"From her bedroom?--nothing of the kind. She told me through the +front door that Mr. Grahame had forbidden her to let me in. When +I said that I would come in, and began to break the window to +show that I was in earnest, she went to the window above, and +poured two buckets of boiling water over me." + +"Margaret Wallace! it's dreaming you must have been." + +"It was a curious kind of dream. The water scalded my neck, and +left a scar which was visible for weeks--wasn't it?" + +She turned to Mr. Talfourd, as if for corroboration. + +"It was. When I saw it I was disposed to go straight off to +Scotland, and give the old harridan a taste of my quality." + +"It's as queer a story as any I've heard. Seeing that Nannie was +as if she had been glued to her bed, how could she walk about +the house as you say, and pour buckets of boiling water on to +you through a window?" + +"I only know that she did." + +"Did you see her?" + +She considered a moment. + +"No, I didn't. She took care not to show herself." + +"She took care not to show herself?" + +"She hadn't the courage to let me see her face, but she let me +hear her voice, and plenty of it. It was not necessary for me to +see her when I heard her. I've been acquainted with Nannie +Foreshaw's voice for too many years to be likely to mistake it +for any one else's." + +"You're sure? I doubt----" The doctor seemed to be considering +in his turn. "I can't put the pieces of the puzzle together so +that they just fit, but I've a notion that I'm on the way. +Margaret Wallace, I've a suspicion that I've been a greater fool +even than I thought. After the chances I've had to get wisdom, +to get understanding, that's not a nice feeling to have. Between +us--you've had a hand!--we've muddled things to a marvel. I'll +communicate with Nannie with reference to that little +conversation you say you had with her; when I've heard from her +I'll talk to you again." He turned to Mr. Talfourd. + +"And you, sir, do you make drawings?" + +"No; I write stories." + +The doctor looked him up and down as if he were a specimen of a +species which was new to him. + +"Stories? Oh! and is that a man's work? I come of a good old +Scottish stock. My forebears have always held that a man should +do a man's work. Is writing stories that?" + +"It isn't easy, if that's what you mean." + +"Not easy? I should have thought you would have found it as easy +as lying. I've written them myself; I didn't find it hard. It's +just a waste of time. However, I'm not judging you. Is that all +you do, write stories?" + +"Just at present I'm doing something else as well. I'm acting as +private secretary to a lady." + +"Private secretary to a lady? You've your own notions of what's +a man's work, Mr. Talfourd." + +Harry flushed; Margaret laughed. + +"And you country Scotchmen have your own ideas of what you're +entitled to say." + +"You're Scotch yourself, my lassie, on the best side of you; +don't gird at your own birth. I ask your pardon, Mr. Talfourd, +if I've said anything I ought not to say; but I've known this +lassie all her days. She's been to me as the apple of my eye, +and--she tells me that you're to be her husband. Would it be +going too far, Mr. Talfourd, if I were to ask you what's the +name of the lady to whom you're acting as private secretary?" + +"Mrs. Lamb--Mrs. Gregory Lamb." + +"Mrs. Gregory Lamb? That's odd." + +"How is it odd? I hope there's nothing improper about the name." + +"It's not that it's improper; it's that I once met a Gregory +Lamb. What sort's your Gregory Lamb?" + +"He's about my own age, perhaps a little older; not ill-looking; +not, I should imagine, a bad fellow in his way." + +"Is he a poor man?" + +"I believe his wife is very rich." + +"His wife? Of course, there's the wife--and she's very rich. The +rich woman who married the Gregory Lamb I know would be a very +foolish female." + +"Mrs. Lamb is certainly not that." + +"Then her Gregory's not mine, though it's an unusual conjunction +of names. I'm thinking that none but a fool of a woman would +ever have married him." + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII + + CRONIES + + +That evening Dr. Twelves dined with a fellow Scot, J. Andrew +McTavish, of McTavish & Brown. Mr. McTavish lived in Mecklenberg +Square. Although a bachelor he liked plenty of house room, and +in Mecklenberg Square he had it. His house was perhaps the +largest in the Square, and certainly not the least comfortable. +Comfort was to Mr. McTavish a sort of fetish: excepting money he +set it above everything. He looked as if he did. Of medium +height, he was of more than average size, his waist measurement +was approaching a significant figure; his neck loved a generous +collar, his chin overlapped; he had slight side whiskers, dark +gray in hue, and the top of his head was so completely bald that +one wondered if it could ever have been anything else. He and +his guest presented an amazing contrast: three or four replicas +of Dr. Twelves could have been contained in Mr. McTavish. + +They dined _tete-a-tete_ at a small round table which stood in +the centre of a big room. Mr. McTavish liked big rooms; he was +never comfortable in a small one. During the meal the +conversation was of a desultory character, principally hovering +around Pitmuir, where Mr. McTavish had lived till he came to +London. Questions were asked and answered touching every soul in +the parish Mr. McTavish could think of, and his memory was +extensive. There was hardly a man, woman or child about Pitmuir +whose name had not been mentioned before dinner was finished. If +the inquiries were slightly acid, so were the replies. It seemed +as if these two gentlemen had made it a point of honour to say +nothing nice of any one. According to them the folk about +Pitmuir were a very human lot--at least they had most of +humanity's failings. + +After dinner they retired to the study, another fine apartment. +There they had a cup of coffee, a liqueur, and a cigar apiece. +The doctor seemed lost in the huge chair which he had been +invited to fill. His host regarded him with twinkling eyes. + +"Have you had a good dinner, David?" + +"You feed yourself too well; you're a hundred years behind the +age." + +"How do you show it?" + +"Our great-grandfathers pampered their bellies. We know better; +we have learnt that it is the part of wisdom to starve them. +You're still where our grandsires were." + +"And where are you?" + +"I'm on the high road to as fine an attack of indigestion as a +man need have, and live." + +"I can give you the name of one of the greatest authorities on +indigestion." + +"I dare swear you can give me the names of one or two. I +shouldn't be surprised if that sucking-pig proves to be the +death of me, beyond the skill of all your authorities." + +"It was cooked to a turn." + +"I ought to know how it was cooked, considering the way that I +behaved to it. It's wicked to set such meat before a man. And +now, I've something which I wish to say to you." + +"You've said one or two things already--what's the other?" + +The doctor, taking the cigar out of his mouth, regarded the ash +on the tip. + +"You remember Wallace's daughter?" + +"Cuthbert Grahame's girl?" + +The doctor nodded. + +"I've seen her this afternoon." + +"No? I wondered what had become of her, more than once. I've +seen and heard nothing of her since he turned her out." + +"He didn't turn her out, she turned herself out. I had the story +from his own lips." + +"So had I. To all intents and purposes he turned her out, +however he may have put it to himself or to you." + +"He asked her to marry him, and she wouldn't." + +"He asked her not once or twice, but again and again, until he +made it plain that his house was no place for her unless she +meant to be his wife. So, as she didn't, there was nothing for +her but to go." + +"It was a fool business." + +"On both sides. Why he wanted to marry her I don't know. I never +do know why a man wants to marry. I'd sooner have a buzz saw in +every room in the house than a wife in one. Why she wouldn't +marry him, I know still less." + +"There was the difference in their years. Then he was already +threatening to be what he afterwards became--physically, I +mean." + +"Well, what of it? If a girl in her position has to marry, I +should say that there are two things which she ought to look for +first of all--money, and a sick husband; if possible, one who is +already sick unto death. In Grahame she'd have had both." + +There was silence, as if both parties were giving to Mr. +McTavish's words the consideration due to a profound aphorism. +It was the doctor who spoke next. + +"He always believed that she would come back again, saying yes." + +"I'd no patience with the man, he was all kinds of a fool. If he +wanted her to be his wife, he didn't go the right way to get +her. When she said no, instead of thanking God for his +undeserved escape, he stormed and raved, fretted and fumed, +until he became only fit to be exhibited in a booth at a fair." + +"When he heard that she was in love with some one else, it was +that that was the death of him." + +"A good thing too. It'd have been a good thing if it had been +the death of both of them. I've no bowels for such tomfoolery. +Where is she? What's she doing? Is she married to the other +fool? If she is, don't they both wish that they were dead?" + +"You've a sharp tongue, Andrew--if your wits were like it! Not +all married folks wish that they were dead; there's just as much +desire to live among the married as among the single--maybe +more. To hear you talk one would suppose that one had only to +remain single to be happy. You and I know better than that." + +"Speak for yourself, David, speak for yourself--I'm happy +enough." + +"Then your looks belie you." + +"What's the matter with my looks, you old croaker?" + +"I'm a doctor of medicine, Andrew McTavish; I've learned to turn +the smoothest side to a patient; so you must excuse me if to +your inquiry I return no answer." + +"After the dinner I've given him!" + +"It's the ill-assorted food you have caused me to cram down my +throat that I'm beginning to fancy has given me a touch of the +spleen." + +"Something has. The next time you dine in this house it will be +off porridge." + +"We'll leave the next time till it comes. To return to Margaret +Wallace. She's not married yet, and, so far as I can judge, +she's not likely to be. It's want of pence, both with him and +with her. If she had some of Cuthbert Grahame's money, as she +ought to have, it'd make all the difference." + +"It's in part your fault that she hasn't." + +"I'm not denying it, and I'm not forgetting it. If I've been +guilty of the unforgivable sin, it was when I brought that woman +to Cuthbert Grahame's bedside. I sometimes think that I'll see +it chalked up against me in letters of fire when I'm brought up +before the throne." + +"Stuff!" + +"Maybe--to you. You're devoid of decent feeling, Andrew +McTavish; to you all's stuff. What's become of the woman?" + +"What woman?" + +"She who calls herself Mrs. Grahame?" + +"She calls herself Mrs. Grahame no longer." + +"How's that?" + +"She's married again." + +"The creature! The poor fool she's married! What is his name?" + +"Gregory Lamb." + +Dr. Twelves rose from his chair as if impelled by a spring. +Opening his mouth in apparent forgetfulness of what was between +his lips, his cigar fell to the floor, where it remained +apparently unnoticed. + +"What's that?" + +"What's what?" + +"What name was that you said?" + +"Why, man, what's the matter now? I'm wondering whether the +sucking-pig's mounted to your head instead of descending to your +stomach. David, you're easily upset these days. Pick up your +cigar, it's burning a hole in my floor covering." + +"Damn the cigar!" + +"And welcome! It's not that I mind. What I object to is your +cigar damning my carpet. Pick it up at once, sir." + +"You're fussy about your old carpet." + +"Old carpet! it cost me a guinea a yard not twelve months +since." + +"You're wasteful with your money." + +"I am, when I spend it entertaining such as you." + +"What's the name of the man you say that woman married?" + +"Gregory Lamb." + +"It's past believing!" + +"Is it? I haven't found it so." + +"That's because you're walking in darkness. Do you know that the +youngster Margaret's plighted to is private secretary to Mrs. +Gregory Lamb?" + +"Is he? Then I should say that that's presumptive evidence that +he's not bad looking. She has an eye for a good-looking man." + +"Gregory Lamb was staying at Pitmuir when she was at +Cuthbert Grahame's, calling herself his wife. A half-bred, +ill-conditioned young scamp he was." + +"I should imagine that Mr. Lamb was not born in the caste of +Vere de Vere." + +"Were they acquainted then? What was there between them? How +come they to be married now?--he without a penny, to my +knowledge, she with all that money. She'd not marry such a +creature as he was--for love, that I'll swear. They were birds +of a feather, only he was more fool than knave, and she more +knave than fool." + +"That about describes them now--if a lawyer may say as +much--under privilege." + +"Andrew, can you keep a still tongue?" + +"If I couldn't I shouldn't be sitting here." + +"I've always had a suspicion that there was something wrong +about that will." + +"Do you mean the one under which she inherits? You needn't +confine yourself to suspicion upon that point--it's about as +wrong as it could be. If there had been substantial opposition +she'd have found it hard to bring it in." + +"I'm not meaning it in your sense. I know that Grahame signed it +in the presence of those two daft lassies; but I don't believe +that he knew what he was signing, although the evidence is all +the other way. I've kept my doubts to myself until this moment, +and even now I can't tell you just why I don't believe it--but I +don't." + +"Quite possibly you're right, but you can't prove it." + +"I know I can't, and there's something else that I can't prove." + +"What's that?" + +"I believe she murdered him." + +"David!" + +"She was equal to it; and I'm beginning to see more clearly how +she brought herself to the sticking point. The day before his +death Margaret Wallace called----" + +"Margaret Wallace? you don't say!" + +"She told me so herself this afternoon. She was refused +admission as she supposed by Nannie Foreshaw. I happen to know +that Nannie couldn't have got out of bed and gone downstairs to +save her life--that woman had taken care of that. Before I came +to you I wrote to Nannie asking if she did, to make sure. I +believe that woman played at being Nannie, imitating her voice. +She may have known Margaret's story, probably Grahame had told +her, and was aware that if she returned and saw him her reign +was at an end. So she precipitated matters. She juggled that +will into existence, and, directly she had done so, killed him." + +"It's a weighty charge you're making, David; be careful how you +make it." + +"Do you think I don't know that it's a weighty charge? I'm not +making it. I'm only telling you what's in my mind, as between +friends. I'll not breathe a word of the matter to any one but +you till I can bring it into court, and prove it. At present, in +your lawyer's sense, I've not proof enough to cover a pin's +point. But, Andrew, though the mills of God grind slowly, they +grind surely, and exceeding fine. Maybe one day God's finger +will press her in between the stones, then you'll know that the +conviction which is implanted in my breast is of the nature of +the prophetic vision. God has shown me, though I cannot tell you +how." + +There was silence. The doctor, still standing, bent over the +table on which stood the coffee and liqueurs, pointing with one +skinny finger upwards. He continued in that attitude for a +perceptible period after he had ceased to speak. Then Mr. +McTavish's voice broke the spell which he seemed to have cast +upon the air. + +"David, you use big words. I don't--it's not my way. But +confidence begets confidence. I'll tell you something in +return--and that without insulting you by asking if you can keep +a still tongue--because I know you can." + +The doctor returned to a more normal attitude, seeming to do so +with an effort, as if he were shaking something from him. He +spoke in his ordinary tones. + +"Let me light another cigar before you begin. This sort of +talk's disquieting, especially after such a dinner as I've had. +I think a tonic might not be amiss." He sipped his liqueur. +"Andrew, this is not bad brandy." + +"A hogshead wouldn't hurt you." + +"Wouldn't it? Is it your custom to drink brandy by the hogshead? +I thought you didn't use big words." + +"It's a figure of speech, David--a figure of speech. If you have +that cigar properly lighted, and will sit down like a decent +creature, I'll have my say--that is, if you have not had enough +of the matter under discussion." + +"You're not more ready to talk than I am to listen. Now, Andrew, +I'm at your service." + +"Well, you suspect this lady of something more than +misdemeanour. I may tell you that I doubt if she would have done +what she did do--if she did it!--if she had known what she knows +now." + +"You speak in parables." + +"I'll be plain enough. Did you know anything about Cuthbert +Grahame's affairs?--his financial affairs, I mean." + +"Something." + +"Had you any idea how much he was worth?" + +"He told me himself, not once but frequently, that he was worth +nearer three hundred thousand pounds than two hundred thousand. +He said, moreover, that his investments brought him in an +average interest of over ten per cent. He had made several lucky +hits." + +"That's what he told us; it seems that that's what he told her. +Did you see on what amount probate duty was paid?" + +"Not I; I took no interest in the matter then. I was too +disgusted with myself and everything. My one desire was to get +the whole business out of my head; the trouble is that I haven't +been able to do it." + +"Under forty thousand pounds; and I may tell you that it was +well under forty thousand pounds." + +"What's become of the rest?" + +"That's the mystery which we should like to solve--which she +especially would like to solve; and what she's subjected us to +in her efforts to arrive at a solution no language at my command +is adequate to describe. She's a remarkable woman--a very +remarkable woman. Because she has long since passed the limits +of our endurance is one reason why I am rounding on her to you. +It is not often that I am conscious of such a yearning, but we +have arrived at a position in which I should actually like to +have your advice. That's why I asked you here tonight." + +"Then it wasn't just for old friendship's sake." + +The doctor glowered from the recesses of the huge chair, +expelling the smoke of his cigar from his lips and nostrils. Mr. +McTavish laughed. + +"Well--in a measure. Did you ever think he was romancing when he +talked about his moneys?" + +"I did not--and I don't. He was in earnest. I never knew him +tell a lie when he was in earnest. I'd match his veracity +against my own." + +"Then it's queer--it's queer. At the time of his death we held +securities for him representing some ten thousand pounds lent on +mortgage; the bankers held about as much more. His widow turned +into cash everything that there was to turn, with the exception +of the house, which she will neither sell nor let." + +"I know. It's going to rack and ruin; they say no one's set foot +in it since the day he was buried." + +"I daresay--it's one of her notions--she'll let no one even talk +of it; it's her bogey. Altogether she's had scarcely thirty +thousand pounds." + +"It's in the house." + +"Not it. It's been thoroughly searched by competent hands; she +herself has overhauled it more than once." + +"The money must be somewhere; I'm convinced he had it." + +"Have you any notion where it is? Can you give me any sort of +clue as to its possible whereabouts?" + +"Not I. I know no more about it than--this cigar. Is it likely? +I wasn't his man of business--you were." + +"She says we have it." + +"No!" + +"Yes. She says we have it, or that we know where it is, and are +joined in a conspiracy to keep it out of her possession. The way +she's talked--and treated us! David, she's a remarkable woman." + +"She is that. Don't I know it?--to my cost!" + +"We've had to change the lock on our office door. She let +herself into it with a pass-key--my own, I fear, for I lost it, +though I don't know how; I've never seen it since. She ransacked +everything the place contained. Got into the safe. By some +extraordinary mischance, in which it is quite possible she had a +hand, that night it wasn't locked. She went right through it. +She saw a good deal we had rather she hadn't seen, but she saw +nothing of Grahame's money." + +"Did you catch her in the act?" + +"Catch her! We've never been able to prove it against her yet, +but the presumption's as strong as Hercules. She went to +Brown's, and made him swear by all his gods that he knew nothing +about it; then she made him open his safe, and went through all +his private papers." + +"Brown must be a fine sort of a man." + +"She's a fine sort of a woman. She drugged me in my own house." + +"No?" + +"I say yes! She came here one night. I offered her a little +something to drink--I was having something to drink, and I +couldn't see her sitting dry. I've no doubt that when my back +was turned she put something into my glass which took away my +senses in a flash. When I came to it was early morning; the +daylight was streaming through the blinds; she was gone; the +whole place was upside down." + +"You're a lawyer: didn't you give her a taste of the law?" + +"What was the use? She'd pose as an injured woman--her grievance +is real enough. We'd get no good; it might do us harm. The +mischief is that she's got what she chooses to regard as some +sort of groundwork for her suspicions. It's this way. She met +the secretary of the Hardwood Company. The Hardwood Company's +paid dividends averaging thirty per cent, ever since it started. +The fellow got friendly with her--as plenty of men do get within +five minutes of their meeting her. He told her that only one +original shareholder remained on their lists, and, since the +shares rushed to a premium directly the issue was made, that +therefore he was the only person who received the full benefit +of the thirty per cent. He added that the shareholder's name was +Grahame--Cuthbert Grahame (you may see her pricking her ears at +that!)--and (she always leading him by the nose!) that the +dividends had not been paid to him direct, but to his +solicitors, Messrs. McTavish & Brown, of Southampton Row. He was +a talkable body, that secretary man--men are apt to be talkative +when she gets them alone with her in a corner. He told her +something else: that the queerest part of the business was that +while the shares still stood in Grahame's name, the dividends +had remained unclaimed for quite a while, so that a considerable +sum was waiting for some one to take it. The next morning she +came to us running over with the story. Now I remembered those +shares--an investment which returns thirty per cent, these hard +times one has to remember. He had ten thousand of them; they +were in our charge; we did collect the dividends. But one day he +wrote asking us to send them to him, which we did do. My lady of +course wanted proof. Do you know we couldn't give it her." + +"I don't see why." + +"Under ordinary circumstances nothing could have been simpler. +Such a thing has never before happened in the whole course of my +experience, but by some infernal accident we couldn't lay our +hands on either his letter of instructions, or his +acknowledgment of receipt." + +"There was still the letter advising their despatch." + +"David, ever since that woman appeared on the scene we have been +persecuted by a malignant fate." + +"Big words, Andrew, big words." + +"She moves me to them. On the day Grahame's letter came I +happened to be going abroad. Brown sent a clerk here with his +letter and the shares, so that I might check them and see that +they were right. I packed the clerk back, and sent the shares +myself; but in my haste--I was running the boat train pretty +close!--I was idiot enough not to take a copy of my own letter, +and what I did with Grahame's I have not the dimmest +recollection." + +"Very unbusiness-like." + +"Don't I know it, man! Of course she declined to credit a word +of the story; said that she believed it was a fabrication from +beginning to end; and that she was more than ever convinced that +she was dealing with a set of rogues. The climax is to come! The +day after she had drugged me she came to my office, and produced +a Hardwood Company's share, which she had the assurance to +assert that she had taken out of my own safe when I was in a +state of unconsciousness!--think of it! She had taken it round +to the Company's offices, and it had there been identified as +one of the shares which were standing in Cuthbert Grahame's +name." + +"Was it one of his shares?" + +"It was, beyond a doubt." + +"And had she taken it out of your safe?" + +"David, I can only tell you that she swore she had; and I'm +bound to admit that if she hadn't, I don't know where she got it +from. On the other hand, if she did I have not the vaguest +notion how it got there. Plague take the thing!" + +Mr. McTavish, emptying his liqueur glass, immediately refilled +it. + +"Don't you know what's in your own safe?" + +"Do you take me for a feather-brain? I knew every trifle it +contained, or thought I did. She says that she took up a bundle +of papers, and that the share dropped out of one of them. If it +did, no one knows less than I do who put it there. The only +conclusion at which I can arrive is that, in returning the +shares to Grahame, I overlooked one of them, and that, in my +hurry, it got mixed up with some of the papers which I keep in +my safe, and which were lying on my table at the time. Of all +the evil chances that ever befel a man!" + +"And what was the inference she drew?" + +"The inference she drew! What do you suppose? Why, of course, +that the other nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine shares +were hidden somewhere in my house, exactly as that one had been. +She had brought a solicitor with her to the office--think of it, +David!--a pettifogging rascal of the name of Luker, who'd do +anything for six-and-eightpence; and in his presence--picture +it, David!--she told me that if I didn't permit her to subject +my private premises to a thorough examination she should +immediately commence proceedings for the recovery of the missing +shares. And the creature Luker had the audacity to advise me to +accede to her reasonable request--he called it her reasonable +request! And I complied!--I complied! She, the wretched Luker, +Brown, and myself, we went through every nook and cranny in the +house, all of us together. The humiliation of it!--the maddening +humiliation!" + +With his handkerchief Mr. McTavish wiped his capacious brow, +which was moist with indignant sweat. + +"And did they find the missing shares?" + +"David! Do you want me to make an end of you? The reptile Luker +wrote that if restitution of the shares was not made at once he +was instructed to immediately commence proceedings for their +recovery. And that's only the beginning! If something isn't done +to stop her it's very possible that she'll try to jockey us, by +legal process, out of all the money that she supposes Cuthbert +Grahame to have had. The law on such matters is in such a +state--when twisted by such as Luker!--that there's no knowing +what may be the issue; the one thing certain being that she may +be the occasion to us of the gravest injury." The doctor emitted +a sound which forced a startled inquiry from the other. "What's +the matter with you, man?" + +"I was laughing, to think that a couple of lawyers should be so +mishandled by one of the laity! It's the funniest thing that +ever I heard." + +"It's no laughing matter, David, I can tell you that. Think of +the scandal--that at the age to which I'm come I should be used +as if I were a misbegotten rogue! She's a devil of a woman! And +what's driving her is that she's come to the end of her tether." + +"Do you mean that she's spent all her cash?" + +"I've reason to know she has, or nearly all. She lives in a +great house, has an expensive establishment, spends money like a +queen. She took it for granted that long before this the bulk of +Grahame's money would turn up. Now that it hasn't she's +desperate. She means to get it out of somebody, somehow--or as +much of it as she can--if it's only out of such poor creatures +as McTavish and Brown." + +"You're a pair of weans, you and Brown." + +"So you see, David, how it is I have come to you for help--to +you, my oldest friend. Why it is that I ask you to search your +brain and see if you can give us no clue as to what Cuthbert +Grahame did with his money. No one was more intimate with him +than you, and on such a point there is no one who is more likely +to be able to give us help." + +"If that's so then you'll get help from no one, for it's certain +you'll get none from me. I tell you I know nothing of the +matter." + +"Do you think Miss Wallace could help us? She had an intimate +knowledge of Grahame and of his peculiarities. She might be able +to tell us something which would prove to be of assistance." + +"I'll ask her, if you wish it. But I doubt if you'll gain." + +"Do, David, do. And"--Mr. McTavish tapped his forefinger on the +arm of his chair--"the sooner the better. As to advice, David, +you know this woman; you've had dealings with her before; in a +sense, so far as we're concerned, you're responsible for her +existence. You see the dilemma we are in. What advice have you +to offer?" + +"None--not a ha'porth. I'm not advising." + +"David!" + +"I tell you I'm not, and it's just because I've had dealings +with the woman already. I've tried one fall with her, and I'm +suffering from it still." + +"She's an awful creature!--awful!" + +"There's only one thing I can say to you, Andrew, and that I've +said already, and then you sort of sniggered. But to my mind +it's a comfortable thought when we come to deal with persons +like Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame, or Mrs. Gregory Lamb, or whatever +she calls herself, and it's this, that if the mills of God do +grind slowly, they also do grind surely, and they grind +exceeding small." + + + + + CHAPTER XIX + + IN COUNCIL + + +There were five of them assembled in Margaret Wallace's +sitting-room. Margaret herself, in a linen gown of +cornflower-blue, the product of her own deft fingers, which +became her hugely. Miss Dorothy Johnson, from the rooms below, +who indulged her fondness for unconventional attitudes by +perching herself on the back of one chair and her feet on the +seat of another. Bertram Winton, one of the handsomest of our +actors, tall and dark, with big eyes and curly hair, whose +clothes fitted him with a creaseless perfection which won the +admiration of that considerable feminine public which bought his +photographs and wrote for his autograph. Frank Staines, who was +something of a mystery. He wrote a little, and painted a little, +and drew a little, and sang a little, and played a little, and +talked so much that there were people who said that he could do +that better than he could do anything else. He had money. The +exact quantity was not generally known, but there appeared to be +enough of it to enable him to live in very considerable comfort, +without rendering it necessary for him, to adopt his own +phraseology, to descend into the market-place and "huckster" his +brain. Between Miss Johnson and him there was a state of +continual war, tempered by peaceful intervals of the briefest +duration. It was commonly understood that he was very much in +love with her, had frequently proposed to her and had been +accepted several times, but that on each occasion a rupture had +followed before they were able to make an interesting +announcement to their friends and acquaintances. + +Miss Johnson made a remark to Harry Talfourd, who stood leaning +against the window with an air of almost sombre gloom, which +caused hostilities to break out upon the spot. + +"Let's get to the bed-rock of common-sense. It always seems to +me that in matters of this sort commonsense is the one thing +needed. Harry, what is it you want? You want your play to be +successful--that is, you want it to bring you cash and kudos; +and that is all you want. The question, therefore, which you +have to ask yourself is, if Mrs. Lamb produces 'The Gordian +Knot' will it bring me those two things? To that question you +have only to supply a simple yes or no, and the problem's +solved." + +To which Mr. Staines replied-- + +"That is exactly the sort of remark one expects you to +make--utilitarian, material, sordid. I opine that the one thing +Harry requires you have not mentioned--that is, satisfaction for +his artistic soul." + +"Artistic tommy-rot." + +"My dear Dollie, it is not necessary for you to be vulgar in +order to inform us that you know nothing about the soul--we are +aware of it." + +"My dear Frankie, don't be under the delusion that you need open +your mouth to let the world know that you drivel--it is written +on your countenance." + +"Thank you, Miss Johnson." + +"Don't mention it, Mr. Staines." + +Margaret interposed. + +"While those two are thinking of some more nice things to say to +each other, I should like to know, Mr. Winton, what you really +think." + +"I am afraid, Miss Wallace, that my point of view would be +described by Staines as utilitarian. I propose to conduct my +theatre--when I get it--on a commercial basis." + +"One takes it for granted that an actor-manager is commercial or +nothing." + +"If he isn't commercial, my dear Staines, he's less than +nothing--he's a bankrupt. No one loves a bankrupt, not even your +artistic soul. My intention is to get a theatre; to have it +properly equipped; to give the public as good plays as I can +get; to have them as well acted as circumstances permit. If Mrs. +Lamb is willing to place me in a position to carry out my +intention--on my own terms--I don't know that I have any serious +objection to her playing a part in my initial venture, +particularly as that happens to be a part which, as Talfourd is +aware, I have not hitherto been able to fit with a quite +adequate representative. I realise that the position is not so +simple as it appears, and am conscious that I run the risk of +being overshadowed by the lady's personality. But that is +certainly my risk rather than Talfourd's, and I am willing to +run it in order to gain the end I have in view." + +"Then you say, let Mrs. Lamb play Lady Glover?" + +"I do, since I incline to the opinion that she would not play it +in a fashion which would militate against the success of the +piece." + +"You hear, Harry?" + +"I do; I have heard Winton on the point before." + +"Then why don't you leave matters entirely in his hands, and let +him arrange everything?" + +Harry exchanged glances with the actor. He said, dryly-- + +"I am willing. If I am allowed to--say, run abroad, or remove +myself into the country well out of reach, until, at any rate, +the play's produced, I am content to let Winton do just as he +pleases." + +"I doubt if that would meet Mrs. Lamb's views. I imagine that +she might regard your withdrawal as a personal affront. +Talfourd, will you allow me to explain to Miss Wallace what I +imagine is your exact position in this matter?" + +Miss Johnson addressed a question to Mr. Staines before Margaret +could reply. + +"Frank, you can be honest sometimes, and you can be sensible. +Try to be both of them now. What do you think of Mrs. Lamb?" + +"It is a delicate subject, on which I should not presume to +offer an opinion." + +"That means that you don't love her." + +"I have only loved one person in my life, and it certainly was +not her." + +Miss Johnson looked straight in front of her, as if she desired +to convey the impression that she had no idea that any allusion +was intended. Margaret urged Mr. Winton. + +"Come, tell me what Harry's position really is, since I am quite +unable to get it out of him." + +"Shall I, Talfourd?" + +"You may say what you choose, only give me leave to doubt if you +are so well informed as you yourself imagine. I don't understand +myself as well as I should like to." + +"I fancy I understand pretty well. The truth is, Miss Wallace, +Mrs. Lamb is fonder of Talfourd than he is of her." + +"I am quite aware of that." + +"I don't think you altogether appreciate my meaning. If there +were no Mr. Lamb, Mrs. Lamb would not object to being Mrs. +Talfourd--which is why she wants to produce 'The Gordian Knot,' +and why Talfourd doesn't want her to." + +"Do you mean that she's in love with him? Harry! is this true? +You told me that she had never said anything to you she ought +not to have done." + +"Nor has she. Winton speaks crudely. I don't know what is his +authority for his statement, he certainly has had none from me." + +"Is it simply because--she feels for you like that--that she +wants to produce your play?" + +"Honestly, Meg, I don't know what her reasons are. I wish I +did." + +"Does she know that you're--engaged?" + +"Not that I am aware of. So far as possible I have carefully +avoided speaking to her of myself. Frankly, Meg, it's no use +blinking the fact that as Mrs. Lamb's private secretary there's +nothing for me to do; that she has not the slightest real need +for such a functionary; and that I am very much exercised in my +mind as to the motives which would actuate her in the production +of 'The Gordian Knot'. Although I am quite aware that he meant +well, I should have been obliged to Winton if he hadn't said a +word to her about the thing." + +"At that time I had no actual knowledge of how the land was +lying." + +"But you guessed." This was Margaret. + +"Well, if you will permit me to be quite plain, Miss Wallace, I +don't know that I regarded it as a drawback even if I did guess. +An actor depends for his existence on personal favour. He has to +please the public in the mass, and, also, as individuals. When a +woman tells me she admires me I expect her to take a stall to +see me act; if she admires me very much, I expect her to take +two or three, or a box. There have been women who have admired +me so much that they have booked seats for an entire season. +Now proceed a step farther. I can conceive of it as possible +that a woman might provide me with the means to take a theatre +because her admiration for me was so great. I shouldn't stop to +ask myself trivial questions as to whether she was married +or single, I should regard the matter as purely one of +business--one proof of my success--and take the good the gods +provided, while, at the same time, my position in the affair +would be entirely a platonic one. I want Talfourd to treat the +matter from my point of view, but it seems he can't." + +"I'm sorry." + +"I'm not sorry!" The first remark came from Harry, the second +from Margaret. She went on: "Now I begin to understand. Of +course it's quite inconceivable, Harry, how any one could fall +in love with you; but supposing any woman to be so foolish, I +certainly don't want you to trade on her affection. I'm not +saying it with any desire to wound you, Mr. Winton." + +"Don't be afraid, I'm not easily wounded." + +"But, you see, in this case there are other circumstances to be +considered--there's me. I'm a factor in the question. And shall +I tell you to what conclusion I'm drifting?" + +"Let's have it." + +"I should like to see Mrs. Lamb. You men know her, but I don't. +She hasn't even come within range of my vision, and though I've +the highest respect for you, as men, when it comes to your +opinion of a woman, I don't think a man's opinion worth +anything." + +"You're quite right--it isn't." This was Miss Johnson. + +"I used to have a high opinion of you." This was Mr. Staines. + +"You used to have!--that I should ever have been so belittled!" + +Miss Johnson turned disdainfully from Mr. Staines to Margaret. + +"What you say is perfectly correct, my dear, only a woman's +opinion of a woman is of the slightest value." + +"The other day I heard a woman express her opinion of you in +terms which, if I repeated them to you, might cause you to +change your views." + +"Some women!" + +"I don't know that I go quite so far as Dollie, and there is +something in what Mr. Staines hints, for, of course, there are +women whose opinions of each other are merely so many libels." + +"Hear! hear!" + +"Do be still! Will somebody sit on Mr. Staines?" + +"But this appears to be a case in which a woman's opinion should +be the only thing which ought to count--especially if I'm +the woman; and, lest you accuse me of overweening conceit, +let me hasten to explain. Mrs. Lamb is, I presume, a lady of +beauty----" + +"She's not bad-looking." This was Mr. Staines to, of course, +Dolly. + +"Much you know about a woman's looks!" + +"I used to admire yours." + +"Pooh!" + +"Apparently of fortune, conceivably of taste. She is supposed to +entertain certain sentiments towards a certain gentleman which +she ought not to entertain. Actuated by those sentiments she +proposes to play the part of a feminine Maecenas and pose as a +patron of the drama. These are the allegations which are made +against her. Introduce me to her; let me talk to her for half an +hour, and I will engage to settle there and then--and +finally!--the question as to whether she is a fit and proper +person to produce 'The Gordian Knot' and play Lady Glover." + +"I'm content!" cried Harry. + +Mr. Winton was more deliberate. + +"Well, under ordinary circumstances, I should be inclined to do +more than hesitate before accepting a lady as arbitrator in such +a matter, but I have such a high opinion of Miss Wallace, though +she herself appraises a masculine estimate of such a subject at +less than nothing----" + +"I make an exception in your case, Mr. Winton--thank you very +much." + +"If she will allow me to say so, I esteem her wide-minded +liberality so greatly, and set such value on her keen-sighted +appreciation of character----" + +"Dear! dear! Margaret, bow!" + +"Dollie! don't interrupt!" + +"That I am quite willing to go so far as this: If, after talking +the matter over with Mrs. Lamb, fully and frankly, and weighing +all the pros and cons, you tell me that you think it would be +better, for all parties interested, that she should have nothing +to do with the play, then, so far as I am concerned, the +question will be settled--she shan't." + +"The point is," struck in Dollie, "how is the poor dear child to +become acquainted with this wonderful woman, who ought to be +immensely flattered if she knows how much you have her in your +thoughts?" + +"There will be no difficulty about that. The lady has an 'At +Home' to-morrow evening, to which, practically, all the world is +welcome. I'll tell her, Meg, that you'd like to make her +acquaintance, and ask her permission to bring you." + +"You'll ask her?" + +Mr. Staines looked at Mr. Talfourd with, in his glance, a +satirical intention which the other ignored. + +"Why not? Nothing could be simpler." + +"No--nothing could be simpler--only I thought you said she +didn't know you were engaged. Do you propose to tell her in what +relation Miss Wallace stands to you?" + +"Certainly! Why do you look at me like that?" + +"I should like to see her face when she receives the +communication, and, again, when she meets Miss Wallace. I know +something of Mrs. Gregory Lamb. I fancy they may both of them be +rather dramatic moments." + +Margaret told him, laughing-- + +"Dear Mr. Staines, you may study the expression of her +countenance when she meets me to your heart's content, if you +choose. Suppose we all of us go together?" + +Mr. Winton rose from his chair. + +"Thank you; that is a proposal which I am afraid I must decline. +Mrs. Lamb might suspect us of conspiracy if we bore down on her +in force. I will be in Connaught Square to-morrow evening, but +perhaps a little late, when I think it possible, Miss Wallace, +that one glance at your countenance will be sufficient to tell +me exactly how the matter stands. Remember the arbitrament of my +fate--as a manager, an issue of no slight consequence--is in +your hands." + +"Poor, innocent, ignorant Mrs. Lamb!" exclaimed Miss Johnson. +"Meg, if she only knew what issues of life and death you are +bringing with you, I don't believe she'd let you into her +house--however nicely Harry might ask her permission to bring +you." + +The young lady spoke much truer than she knew. + + + + + CHAPTER XX + + THE IMPENDING SWORD + + +"I must have ten thousand pounds, and"--Mrs. J. Lamb +paused--"within a week." + +"Must!" + +Mr. Isaac Luker folded his hands together with a gesture which +suggested the act of prayer. He seemed singularly out of place +in his environment. They were in the apartment which Mrs. Lamb +called her boudoir, a word which has a different meaning in the +mouths of different women. In this case it stood for a room +which represented what was possibly the last word in gorgeous +decoration. Everything was of the costliest. If the result was a +trifle vivid, it was not altogether unpleasing. It was a room in +which one could be very much at one's ease--in certain moods--if +one were of a certain constitution. There was something in its +atmosphere which made a not ineffective appeal to the senses, +not so much to the sense of beauty or of intellect, as to that +of physical well-being. In some subtle way the owner's strong +personality impregnated the whole place. On crossing the +threshold a person of delicate perception might have become +immediately conscious of something which could scarcely have +been called healthy. + +But the prevailing note was gorgeousness, and anything less +gorgeous than Mr. Isaac Luker one could hardly conceive. Mrs. +Lamb's costume harmonised with the apartment, it was so +evidently the product of one of those artists in dress to whom +expense is no object. And it became her very well. In it she +looked not only a handsome woman, but almost a real great lady. +Mr. Luker's apparel, on the other hand, was not only unbecoming +and ill-fitting, but it was apparently in the last stage of +decay. None of the garments seemed to have been made for him, +and they were all of them odd ones. He was tall and thin. He +wore an old pair of black-and-white checked trousers, which were +too short in the leg and too big everywhere else; an old black +frock-coat, which he kept closely buttoned, and which must +certainly have been intended for some one who was both +shorter and broader. His long thin neck was surrounded by a +suspicious-looking collar, which was certainly not made of +linen, and he wore by way of a necktie something which might +have once done duty as a band on a bowler hat. One understood, +after a very cursory inspection, why a gentleman who had such a +keen regard for appearances as Mr. Andrew McTavish should object +to being brought into involuntary, and unsatisfactory, +professional contact with Mr. Isaac Luker. + +Yet those who knew had reason to believe that Mr. Luker did a +considerable business of a kind--though it was emphatically of a +kind. He had one or two peculiarities. He was an habitual gin +drinker, and though he could seldom be said to be positively +drunk, he could just as rarely be called entirely sober. To all +intents and purposes he lived on gin. He had it for breakfast, +lunch, dinner, and for afternoon tea and supper, and he did not +seem to find it a very nourishing food. Then, perhaps partially +owing to the monotonous regularity of his diet, he seemed to be +incapable of saying what he meant, while his yeas and his nays +were as worthless as his oaths. For a solicitor to be a +notorious liar and drunkard one would suppose would be a serious +handicap in his profession. Oddly enough, with Mr. Luker it was, +if anything, the other way. The sort of clients he courted +wanted just the sort of man he was. He, speaking generally, +never did any clean business; he was only at home when dealing +with what was unclean; and as there is more of that kind of +commerce about than might be imagined--and some of it is +amazingly lucrative--he did tolerably well. Indeed, there were +those who declared that, although he did not look it, he was +uncommonly well-off, it being one of his characteristics that he +was as incapable of spending money as he was of telling the +truth or giving up gin. + +As he stood there, with his hands folded in front of him in an +attitude of prayer, Mrs. Lamb regarded him with what could +hardly be regarded as glances of admiration. When she addressed +him it was with a frankness which was hardly in keeping with her +_role_ of great lady, and which is not usual when one deals with +one's legal adviser. + +"Listen to me, Luker. I want none of your humbug, and I want +none of your lies. I want ten thousand pounds inside a week--and +you've got to get them. I'll give fifteen thousand for the ten, +so there won't be a bad profit for some one." + +"How long do you want the money for?" + +"Oh--three months." + +"On what security?" + +"What security? On the security of my property." + +"Your property?" Mr. Luker did not smile--a smile was probably +another thing of which he was incapable--but his wizened +features assumed a curious aspect. "Of what does your property +consist?" + +"None of your nonsense. To begin with, there are those ten +thousand shares in the Hardwood Company. As you know very well, +they're worth over fifty thousand pounds at the present moment." + +"They would be if you had them--but you haven't." + +"McTavish & Brown have got them, and you're going to make them +disgorge." + +"We've first of all to prove that they've got them." + +"Oh no, we haven't; they have to prove that they handed them +over to Cuthbert Grahame, which is a very different thing, as +you know very well." + +"My dear Isabel, you're a very clever woman; your fault is that, +if anything, you're too clever." + +"I've heard you called too clever before to-day." + +"My dear----" + +"Don't you call me your dear! I won't have it." + +"Very well, although it is possible that few men have a better +right----" + +"Right! Don't you dare to talk to me about right!--you!--don't +you talk to me like that, Mr. Luker! You just simply listen to +me. I want ten thousand pounds before this day week, and you've +got to get it. No one in London knows better than you from whom +and how to get it." + +"Mrs. Lamb--by the way, how is your worthy husband?" + +"Never mind my worthy husband--you keep to the point." + +"Even supposing we are able to saddle McTavish & Brown +with the responsibility for the Hardwood shares--which is +problematical--it'll take a good deal more than three months to +do it. It is not to be supposed that they'll accept an adverse +decision without taking the case through every court available. +That may take years. If in the end it is decided that they will +have to pay, it is not by any means certain that they will be +able to. Costs will have swollen the original total enormously; +it all will have to come from them. There is nothing to show +that they are in a position to pay such a huge sum as that will +be." + +"Oh yes, there is; they're rolling in money; I've seen enough of +them to know so much." + +"You think you have. I doubt if that is a matter on which your +judgment can be trusted. If the case ultimately goes against +them, the possibilities--I should say the probabilities--are +that they will declare themselves bankrupt. Then where will you +be? You will have to pay your own costs, and, instead of getting +the amount adjudged, after another interval of dreary waiting, +you may receive, as a final quittance, perhaps sixpence, or a +shilling, in the pound. And in the meantime, you must remember, +you will have to live." + +"You old croaker!" + +"Let me make a suggestion." + +"Your suggestions!" + +She brought her fist down on the back of an armchair with an +emphasis which almost suggested that she would have liked that +chair to have been some portion of his body. + +"Let me lay the whole case before a friend of mine, and, after +he has given it careful consideration, it is possible that he +may make you a proposition." + +"What sort of proposition?" + +"That I cannot tell you--the best he can." + +"You understand that I must have ten thousand pounds within a +week?" + +"I hear you say so. If my friend can see his way no doubt he +will let you have them." + +"Mind he does see his way!" + +"As to that----" + +Mr. Gregory Lamb's sudden appearance in the doorway perhaps +allowed to serve as an excuse for his sentence to remain +unfinished. + +"You here!" exclaimed Mr. Lamb, as if he were not too well +pleased to see him. "I didn't know." + +Mr. Luker's greeting, although well meant, was a little +peculiar. + +"My dear Mr. Lamb, how well you are always looking!--and always +so beautifully dressed. What a lovely pin you have in your +pretty necktie! Now I know a friend who would give you----" + +"I don't want to know what your friend would give me! Confound +it, Luker, I never see you but you tell me what some one you +know would give me for something I have on. You might be a +marine store-dealer." + +"There are worse trades, Mr. Lamb--there are worse trades. Now +with regard to that exquisite pair of trousers----" + +"Look here, Luker, if you're going to tell me what some one you +know will give me for my trousers, I'll throw something at you." + +"You mustn't do that, Mr. Lamb, it might be something worth +money--everything in the room is so very beautiful. Mrs. Lamb, I +wish you good-morning." + +"Now, no nonsense, Luker. I want that within a week--and you've +got to see I have it--if you don't want trouble!" + +"I understand perfectly, and will bear what you have said well +in mind. You shall hear from me again very shortly." + +"I will see I do!" + +"I have had clients, Mr. Lamb, who would have conveyed that pin +without paying for it--it presents such temptations to an honest +man. I do hope it's properly secured. Good-morning!" + +When Mr. Luker had retired Mr. Lamb turned to his wife, with +knitted brows. + +"Isabel, it's beyond my comprehension why you have anything to +do with that animal. He's got scoundrel written large all over +him." + +"I shouldn't have thought that would have prejudiced him in your +eyes." + +"I suppose you think that's smart. I know there was a time when +we both of us had to sail pretty close to the wind, but I +thought that time had gone for ever. You've told me so over and +over again. You're a woman of large fortune, of assured +position, a person of importance. I should have thought that +from the point of view of policy alone it would have been worth +your while to have dealings with solicitors of standing only, +and to have nothing to do with such a brute as that. Aren't you +ashamed to have him seen going in and out of the house, or to +have the servants know that he is here?" + +"I'm not easily ashamed--you ought to know that. Is that all +you've come for?--to tell me what you think about what is no +concern of yours?" + +"What's this I hear about your bringing out a play, and acting +in it yourself?" + +"Who told you that?" + +"Winton--to my amazement!" + +"What did he tell you?" + +"Something about your producing a play of +Talfourd's--Talfourd's, of all people in the world! My hat! he +said that you proposed to act one of the principal parts in it +yourself. Isabel, that's going too far; I won't stand it." + +"You won't what?" + +There was something in the lady's tone and in her attitude +before which he obviously quailed. + +"I don't think that it's becoming in a woman of your position, +as--as my wife." + +"It's not my fault that I'm your wife." + +"Still the fact remains that you are. By the way, has Talfourd +been saying anything to you about me?" + +"What should he say?--except to advise me to sew you in a sack +and drop you into the river." + +"That's just what he'd like--he's that sort of man." + +"Is he? He's what you never were, never will be, never could +be--a gentleman. Why you don't even begin to understand what a +gentleman is." + +"'Pon my word, I wonder that I let you talk to me like this. I +don't want to quarrel with you--I hate quarrelling!--I really +do. You couldn't treat me worse if I were a shoeblack." + +"I never met any one yet whose shoes you were worthy to black. +Why, Luker's a man compared to you. He doesn't sponge upon a +woman." + +"It's not fair of you to speak to me like this--it is not! I +know you're not fond of me----" + +"Fond of you!--fond!" + +The lady flung out her arm, as if the idea of her entertaining +any feeling of that kind for her husband was a grotesque one, +and she laughed. As he continued his tone suggested a snarl. + +"I don't know that I'm particularly fond of you. You don't go +out of your way to make yourself agreeable to a fellow. You've +only got to say the word to be rid of me for--well, at any rate, +a good long time." + +"What's the word? L.S.D.?" + +Mr. Lamb coughed. + +"A fellow can't go away with empty pockets." + +"I thought so. Out with it! What are you at?" + +"The truth is, Isabel, I'm not feeling very well." + +"If you were feeling as I'd like you to feel you'd be feeling +very much worse." + +"That's frank! A nice thing for a wife to say to her husband! I +believe you're capable of anything." + +"I am--I always have been--and I always shall be, you bear that +constantly in mind. Why can't you say what you want? If it is +prussic acid to use upon yourself I'll give you money enough to +buy a barrelful." + +The expression of Mr. Lamb's countenance was sullen, so also was +the tone of his voice, which perhaps on the whole was not to be +wondered at. + +"I want to go to the Riviera." + +"That means Monte Carlo. Well go--at once--and never come back +again." + +"If you'll give me the coin I'll start in a jiffy." + +"How much do you want?" + +"I daresay I could manage with a thousand. I've hit upon a +system." + +"You've hit upon a system!" + +"If you'll only keep still for a moment I'll tell you what it +is, and then you'll see for yourself it's an absolute cert. I'll +turn the thou. into fifty in less than no time. I can't help +doing it!--you see!--and then I'll give you half." + +"You'll give me half! Then am I to understand that you won't go +unless I give you a thousand pounds?" + +"I couldn't do it on less--the system I mean. I've worked out +all the details and I really couldn't. I'll show you if you +like. It's want of capital that wrecks a man in a thing like +this. If you haven't got the proper amount--the lowest possible +amount that's absolutely necessary--you might as well throw your +money into the sea." + +"Then you'll never go at all, because I haven't a thousand +pounds to give you." + +"What do you mean?" + +"It's simple. I don't think I've fifty pounds at my bankers, and +I'm pretty sure that they won't honour my cheque if I overdraw." + +"Isabel!" + +"You owe money, don't you?" + +"I daresay I owe a bit here and there." + +"So I've been given to understand. I also owe a bit. And my +creditors, like yours, won't wait." + +"Mine will have to." + +"Will they? I thought that was just what they wouldn't do." + +"Who's been telling you tales about me?" + +"A little bird. So you see, Gregory, I'm more in want of a +thousand pounds, because you can't carry on a house like this +for long on fifty pounds, even if I have so much at the bank, +which, as I say, I doubt." + +"Fifty pounds! You're playing the fool with me--it's a favourite +game of yours. What's become of the quarter of a million you +told me that man Grahame had left you?" + +"That's what I should like to know." + +"You don't mean you've spent it? You can't have done--not in the +time." + +"I've never had it to spend." + +"What rot are you talking? What game are you playing? Have you +all along been telling me nothing but lies?" + +"Cuthbert Grahame told me himself that he was worth more than a +quarter of a million; soon after he died I told you that only a +small portion of the money could be found." + +"You told me nothing of the kind--you've never told me anything. +Whenever I asked you a question you've always shut me up. You've +kept me all along in the dark." + +"Then I tell you now. Only a small sum was ever found, and +that's been spent--and more than spent." + +"Then am I to understand that he was fooling you when he talked +about his quarter of a million?" + +"I don't believe that he was. I believe he was telling the +truth; that he was worth what he said; only it's never been +found, and no one seems to know where it is." She held out her +clenched fists in front of her, shaking them, as if she were +endeavouring, by the exercise of sheer physical force, to assist +her mental process. "Sometimes I feel that I know--that I am +very near to knowing--that if I could do something I should know +quite. It's as if I'd been told something in a dream, and, on +waking, had forgotten what it was. I don't like to think of the +time he died--I can't." She looked about her, as if unconscious +of his presence, with something on her face, in her eyes, which +startled him. "Yet if I could--if I could! I believe it would +all come back to me what I have forgotten, and I should know +where the money is. But I can't! I can't! Since--since the +pillow slipped from under him, I--I've never been the same." + +She dropped into a chair, looking straight in front of her, with +her hands dangling at her sides, as if she saw--she alone knew +what. This was such a new mood for her that its very novelty +scared Mr. Lamb. + +"Don't look like that, Belle! What are you looking at?" + +"God knows! God knows!" + +Mr. Lamb squirmed. + +"Don't! I say, drop it! You're a cheerful sort of person, upon +my word! I come here to get a pound or two, and you go on like +this! Do you mean to tell me straight that we're hard up?" + +"There are three things that can save us, and three things only. +If I could think I might find the money." + +"Then, for the Lord's sake, think! Only don't think like that; +it gives me the creeps to hear you." + +"I can't think, anyhow, about that; I've tried, and I can't. If +I could get the money out of McTavish & Brown, that would be +something." + +"Get it out of any one, but please remember that sharp's the +word." + +"Then there's the play--Harry Talfourd's play--I believe there's +fame and fortune in that--and safety. Do you know what that +means--safety?" + +"Gracious, Isabel! don't shout at me like that! My nerves were +all mops and brooms when I came; you've made them ever so much +worse. I'm all of a twitter. I'll talk to you when you're in a +more reasonable mood; you'll upset me altogether if I stay much +longer." Mr. Lamb withdrew, to return immediately, at least so +far as his head and shoulders were concerned, the rest of his +body he kept on the other side of the door. "Deal fairly with a +chap--do! I must have cash from somewhere, or I shall be in a +deuce of a hole. Can you let me have fifty?" + +"I can't." + +"Can you make it twenty-five?" + +"I can't. I can't let you have anything. Do you want me to yell +at you? I--can't--let--you--have--anything! Do you hear that?" + +"All right! don't shout at a man like that! I should think you +must be going off your head. I never saw you in such a cranky +mood before." + +Mr. Lamb beat a precipitate retreat, this time finally. His +wife, left alone, remained seated on her chair in that very +curious attitude, with that very curious look upon her face. + +"It must be imagination--what they call an optical delusion. +Perhaps, as he says, I'm going off my head. One thing's certain, +it can't be real. This is not his room; that's not his bed; +that's not----" She veiled her eyes with the palms of her hands. +"No! no!--I'm too much alone. I shall go mad if I'm so much +alone--mad!" + +She sat silent for some moments, with her features all +contorted, as if she were wrestling with actual physical pain. +Then, rising, she took out of a small cupboard in an ormolu +cabinet a decanter containing some colourless liquid. Pouring +some of it into a wineglass she swallowed it at a draught. + +It was pure ether. She resorted to it to minister to a mind +diseased. + +When, later, she descended to the apartment which was called, as +it almost seemed ironically, Mr. Talfourd's workroom, that +gentleman rose to greet her with a smile. She also smiled. To +all outward seeming she was herself again--self-possessed, +satisfied with herself and with the world, at peace with every +one. They exchanged a few banal sentences, both remaining on +their feet, she looking at him with eyes which, to phrase it +diplomatically, flattered, he meeting her glance with an +appearance of serene unconsciousness that there was anything in +it which was singular. Presently she touched on the topic which +was to the front in both their minds. + +"About the play--have you thought it over? Am I to play Lady +Glover?" + +He still was diplomatic. + +"You will understand that I, being a conceited and self-centred +author, the matter of my play bulges out until it assumes for me +what you will probably, and correctly, consider exaggerated +proportions. Will you let me think it over a little longer? In +the first place, I have settled nothing with Mr. Winton, and, in +the second, I want to ask you to do me a favour." + +"You are aware that between you and me for you it is but to ask +and to have--anything, everything, I have to give." + +If her words were significant, the manner in which they were +spoken underlined them. Neither the manner nor the matter of his +reply could be termed sympathetic. + +"I don't know if you are aware that I am engaged to be married." + +If something flickered across her face which was not there a +moment before, it went as quickly as it came. + +"No, I wasn't. Are you?" + +"I, of course, don't expect you to be interested in the +trivialities of my life, and I only mention it as a mere detail, +but--the lady would very much like to know you. May she?" + +"My dear Mr. Talfourd! hadn't you better put it the other way? +May I know her? and when? May I call on her? or will she pay me +the great compliment of coming to see me?" + +"You're very kind. With your permission she will come and see +you to-night." + +"To-night? I'm at home--of course! Do you know I'd almost +forgotten it. Bring her by all means. Tell her she's to come +early, before the people, and that she's to stop late, after the +crowd has gone." + +Of such clay are we constituted. She had not the dimmest notion +that in giving that very warm invitation she was hanging up over +her own head a sword of Damocles, which, in this case, was +suspended by something which was almost less than a single hair. + + + + + CHAPTER XXI + + OUT OF THE BLUE + + +Mrs. Gregory Lamb's "At Home" was crowded by rather a +nondescript gathering. The lady's hospitality was scarcely of +the kind which discriminates. Had she set herself to pick and +choose her acquaintances, their number might have been +considerably less. She had learnt that the people she wished to +know were apt not to be anxious to know her; rather the other +way. She had to be content with the society of those who did +wish to know her. Whether she was particularly desirous of the +honour of their acquaintance was another matter altogether. As +she wished to know somebody, using the word in the sense of a +noun of multitude, she had to put up with what she could get. +The result was a little confusing. This is not to say that there +were no decent persons among the hordes which thronged her +rooms: there were. Possibly the chief objection which could be +urged against them was that, for the most part, they were +hungry. Not only as regards the physical appetite; though a +large proportion of them were quite willing to consume all the +food they could obtain, and all the drink. They were hungry in +every sense of the word. To use a significant euphemism, a very +great majority of Mrs. Lamb's guests were "on the make". They +all wanted something. Many wanted a great many things, and +wanted them very badly. There was a generous fringe of what is +called the "literary, musical and artistic world"--those +excellent people who will go into every house into which they +can gain admittance. Singers who are looking for people who will +listen while they sing, and who will pay for listening. Authors +in search of an "opening," victims of that quaint delusion that +in order to achieve popularity it is necessary to keep one's +person well in the public eye, as if it were not easier for the +novelist who lives in the centre of Timbuctoo to gain, and keep, +a circulation of a hundred thousand copies--that consummation so +devoutly to be desired!--than for the pet of London +drawing-rooms. Composers who wanted some one to hear their +"works"; musicians who were apparently content to play on their +various instruments, and keep on playing, whether they were +listened to or not; artists who nourished more or less timid +hope that, having provided them with food, and drink, and +house-room, their hostess would purchase half a dozen of their +"sketches," by way of providing a pleasant climax to their +evening's entertainment; actors--and actresses!--who were +willing to do anything, from the "splits" to "Hamlet," and +to do it then and there; dramatists, who could have told you +tales--and tried to!--of managerial incompetence which would +have made your blood run cold, if they had not been so +monotonously alike. These worthy folk, foredoomed to failure, +were at Mrs. Lamb's in force. + +There were others. Birds, some of them, of the same plumage, who +had achieved a more successful flight, and promised to sustain +it, and perhaps fly even higher. Men and women who had won for +themselves prominent places in their several callings--perhaps +not quite in the front rank, but still near enough--who, having +been in many such, understood what kind of house it was that +they were in. It is to be feared that they regarded their +hostess at best with but amusement, wondering, if she really had +as much money as people said, how it was that she was willing to +get so little for it. + +Then there were the nondescripts--that large battalion. Some +actually with titles, though probably a trifle smirched. People +who were the Lord alone knew who, or what they did for a living. +Persons who claimed to be something in the City, and no doubt +were; whose wives, if they had them, gave you the impression +that their husbands were in the same line of business as the +Rothschilds. There was probably no trade or profession, from the +highest to the lowest, which went unrepresented that night in +Connaught Square. + +And besides all these there were the score or so of individuals +whom the hostess really knew, or thought she did. And among them +moved Mrs. Lamb, as if she knew them all. Beautifully dressed, +probably the best, without doubt the most expensively, dressed +woman there. There were diamonds on her fingers, her wrists, on +her bosom, about her neck, in her hair. If they were real, and +it were blasphemy to doubt it, she would have been reduced into +something worth having if she had been put up to auction as she +stood. She looked, if not exactly divine, then certainly not +unprepossessing. There were many present, both male and female, +who thought her lovely, one of the loveliest women they had ever +seen. That was just the assemblage to which such charms as hers +would make their most strenuous appeal, so that, since a woman +loves appreciation, in her generation she was wise. + +For one so young, and in years she still was very young, she +bore herself with singular ease. She had cast herself for the +_role_ of great lady. If the type on which she had fashioned +herself smacked somewhat of the theatre, her success was none +the less, but rather all the more, on that account. In her way +she really and truly was irresistible. So full of smiles and of +sweetness, so good to look upon. So tall and well set, with such +splendid arms and shoulders, such a rounded neck, such +good-humour in her face. There was such a suggestion of youth +about her--the youth which must prevail, of vital force, of +physical vigour. She presented in herself such a striking +example of the creed that's all for the best in this best of all +possible worlds. She was such an excellent product of that great +and shining god, Success. He had showered on her all his gifts, +and she on her part seemed quite willing to divide them with +whoever would. She seemed to have the knack of saying the right +thing to the right person, being possessed either of a wonderful +memory for names and faces, or, in an almost miraculous degree, +of the trick of arriving, on the instant, at just conclusions +from the scantiest data. She knew who wrote songs; what songs +they had written; even what songs they were about to write; and +who liked it to be thought that they were distant connections of +the Rothschilds. She either had this information stored away in +innumerable cells in her illimitable brain, or she picked it +from people while they talked to her, out of their eyes, lips, +pockets, without their suspecting that she was doing anything of +the kind. + +She might have stood as the personification of human happiness, +as the possessor of everything that the heart could desire. +There were many there who credited her with being both these +things, envying her more or less, admiring her perhaps even +more. They would have readily believed that in her bed of roses +there was not one crumpled leaf. Her radiant bearing, her +beaming visage, seemed to suggest that she lived, and moved, and +had her being in the lotus-land of happy dreams, which, for her, +had grown realities. + +As the evening advanced she seemed to become, if anything, more +light-hearted--gayer still--as if the success of her gathering, +the happy looks with which she everywhere was greeted, had +inoculated her with some subtle essence which raised her out of +herself. Harry Talfourd and Margaret Wallace came, in a +"growler," when she was at her best and brightest. Although it +was late, and some of the earliest comers were going, others +were still arriving. A long line of vehicles were slowly +depositing their occupants at the front door. In this line Mr. +Talfourd's cab took its proper place, in the rear, and in that +line it bade fair to continue for some considerable time. The +lady and gentleman soon grew impatient. + +"Are we going to stay in this cab all night?" inquired Margaret. + +The gentleman put his head out of the window. + +"It looks as if we were. We're about half a mile from the house, +and there seems to be no end of confusion; people are both +coming and going, and there's a fine old muddle. I say, Meg, +it's quite fine and dry; do you think you could get out and walk +the rest of the way? or would it make a mess of you?" + +"Make a mess of me! what do you mean? Open that door; I'll soon +show you." + +He opened the door, and she showed him. + +Getting through the wide open portals of Mrs. Lamb's residence, +and then up the staircase, on which people were ascending and +descending in a continual stream, occupied some time. + +"I feel," observed Margaret, when they had reached the +drawing-room door, "as if I had gone through a course of the +'home-exerciser,' or whatever they call the thing which is +guaranteed to give employment to every muscle in your body. If +all these persons are Mrs. Lamb's friends she must be a +well-loved woman." + +In the drawing-rooms themselves there was room to move slowly, +if one observed a few necessary precautions. At their first +entrance nothing could be seen of their hostess. As Harry +piloted her through the room Margaret found sufficient +occupation in the spectacle presented by her fellow-guests. In +the course of her somewhat varied experiences she had met some +curiosities, but never before had she encountered such specimens +of humanity as were about her now. While she was wondering who +they could be, and where they could have come from, Harry gently +pressed her arm. + +"There's Mrs. Lamb in the other room; I'll introduce you." + +Margaret looked, and saw, in the smaller room which was beyond, +a woman standing, with her back towards her, whom she became +instinctively conscious was her hostess. Not only was she the +most striking figure in that great crowd, but she was surrounded +by a number of people, to all of whom she seemed to be talking +at once. Her head being turned away, her face was not visible +from where they were, so that it could have told her nothing; +yet so singular sometimes is feminine human nature, that Harry +had hardly finished speaking when Margaret replied-- + +"Please don't introduce me to that woman; I'd rather you didn't. +Take me away at once." + +There was something so unusual in the girl's tone that Harry +stared at her in amazement. + +"Meg! is there anything wrong?" + +"Thank you, there is nothing wrong, only--I want to go." + +"Go! You can't go now--it's impossible--before I've introduced +you, since you're here for that special purpose." + +"I don't want to be introduced. I'd rather you didn't. Harry, +you mustn't!" + +"Meg, don't look like that. She's not an ogre; she won't bite +you. Child, what's gone wrong with you all of a sudden? You +needn't stop more than five minutes--and this atmosphere's +enough to asphyxiate any one; but, after what I said to her this +morning, and since you have come, the commonest courtesy compels +me to introduce you; afterwards we can go at once; any excuse +will serve. Anyhow it's too late now for us to think of going +before I've made you known to her." + +What Mr. Talfourd said seemed to be the fact. The current had +borne them so close to their hostess that she had but to turn +round to find herself within arm's length of them. Margaret was +silent. Harry did not look at her face; he was careful not to do +so. The sudden curious change in the girl's manner had affected +him more than he would have cared to admit. He knew that she was +not a person who was liable to be beset by fantastic whims and +fancies, and that there was probably some substantial reason for +the alteration which had taken place in her. His wish was to get +through the ceremony of introduction with as much speed, and as +little ostentation, as he could, and then depart, if the feat +were possible, more quickly than they had come. With this +intention, taking the bull a little by the horns, he addressed +their hostess while her back was still turned towards them. + +"Mrs. Lamb!" + +At the sound of the voice, for whose accents she had been +listening all the evening, the lady moved round with quite a +little swirl of her draperies; there was just sufficient open +space about her to enable her to do it. + +"Mr. Talfourd! I thought you had forgotten me, and were never +coming. And--have you brought the lady?" + +"I have. Permit me to introduce to you Miss Margaret Wallace." + +There have possibly been moments in most of our lives when we +have been visited by something of the nature of a thunderbolt, +and sometimes it has seemed to drop out of the clearest of blue +skies. That was the moment in her life in which the thunderbolt +descended on Mrs. Lamb, and with such crushing force that, for a +too perceptible period of time, it left her literally bereft of +her right senses. Its utter unexpectedness was no slight factor +in the havoc which it wrought. Possibly more than she had been +able to do for a considerable interval she had succeeded in +putting behind her matters which were wont to press too closely; +for the moment she had forgotten Pitmuir--all that it meant. +This was a case in which forgetfulness meant happiness, or a +very tolerable substitute. If only for a few fleeting minutes +her mind was at peace. + +And, on a sudden, without a moment's warning, not dreaming that +such a meeting was even within the range of possibility, she +found herself confronted by the one person in the world whom she +would have traversed the universe to avoid. There, in her own +drawing-room, within two feet of her was the girl who was the +only living creature whose image haunted her, both awake and +asleep. + +She had had communion of late with ghosts--unwillingly enough, +for she had resorted to every means with which she was +acquainted to drive them from her. Yet come they would. +Therefore it was not, after all, so strange, that in the first +moments of what practically amounted to delirium, she supposed +that this bonny, fair-haired, blue-eyed girl, whom she so hated +and so feared, was one of them. + +When she heard her name, and saw her face, she moved back upon +the people who were behind, oblivious that they were there. The +whole fashion of her countenance was changed. She held out her +arms, as if to ward off something whose approach she feared. And +she exclaimed, in a voice which none of those about had heard +from her before-- + +"You can't come in!--you can't! He says you're not to--and you +shan't! Go away! go away!" + +Not one person in the throng which was around her had a notion +what she meant, Margaret no more than any of them. She herself +drew back and clung to Mr. Talfourd's arm, as if in fear. But +her fear was as nothing to the other's. Their hostess offered in +herself a picture for her guests' inspection which it was not +pleasant to behold. She seemed to have all at once become +transformed into a gibbering idiot. While she persistently drew +farther and farther back, she kept repeating-- + +"You shan't come in!--you shan't! He says you're not to--and you +shan't! you shan't! I say you shan't!" + +There was among the onlookers a medical man, one who had had +experience of different phases of lunacy. Perceiving that this +was a case which entered into his domain, he forced himself to +the front. He put his hand upon his hostess' bare shoulder. + +"Mrs. Lamb! what has affected you? There is nothing here to +cause you the slightest disturbance. Control yourself, I beg." + +His tone of calm authority had instant effect. Mrs. Lamb was +still, she ceased to gibber. Her arms fell to her sides. She +remained motionless, staring in front of her, as one in a dream. +Putting her hands up to her face, a convulsion seemed to pass +all over her. When she removed her hands she was awake, and +understood, and knew what she had done. The knowledge was more +than she could bear. + +"Let me pass," she cried. + +They let her pass. She swept through her guests, who huddled +themselves together to let her go, like some incensed wild +creature, out of the room, from their sight. + + + + + CHAPTER XXII + + MARGARET SETTLES THE QUESTION + + +Harry Talfourd hurried Margaret Wallace into the street as fast +as circumstances permitted, while the guests at Mrs. Lamb's were +looking at each other, exchanging whispers, asking what had +happened, what the thing which had happened meant. A few seconds +after the hostess' departure the crowded rooms were filled with +the buzz of voices, which rose higher and higher until it became +a pandemonium of noise. Mrs. Lamb's "At Home" had resolved +itself into chaos. + +Outside in the street Mr. Talfourd did not find it easy to get a +cab; the chaos within was already beginning to make itself felt +without. The whole roadway was a confusion of vehicles. +Perceiving that it was inadvisable to stand still, since they +immediately became the cynosure of curious, and even +impertinent, eyes, Harry marched resolutely onward, holding the +girl tightly by the arm. They had to go some little distance +before they could find a four-wheeled cab which would condescend +to give them shelter. + +So soon as they were in, Margaret drew back into the corner of +her seat with a movement so eloquent that Harry seemed to hear +her shiver. He was silent, trying to collect his thoughts. He +was as much at a loss as any of the excited people they were +leaving behind. When he spoke it was lightly, as if he desired +to make as little of the matter as might be. He was conscious +that in the farther corner, as far away from him as she could +get, was the girl he loved, in a mood wholly unlike any that he +had known before. He was fearful of what might be coming next. +So he endeavoured not to be serious. + +"This promises to be a night of adventure. Did you ever see such +a scramble for cabs? People were rushing out of the house as if +it were on fire. We'll hope there'll be no accident before +they've finished. What did you think of Mrs. Gregory Lamb? +Something must have occurred to upset her equilibrium; she +showed quite a new side of her character." Margaret was still. +He seemed to hear her breathe; he wondered if it were possible +that she was crying. He put out his hand, touching hers gently +with his finger-tips. Although she did not repulse him she +remained impassive, not in any way acknowledging his caress. +"Meg, I hope you're not worrying yourself about that woman's +behaviour. She's not quite responsible, I fancy. She certainly +wasn't to-night, but there was nothing that need trouble you." + +"I am wondering what she meant." + +"Meant? My dear child, she meant nothing, absolutely nothing. +She's a trifle mad, that's all." + +"I'm not so sure. I believe she did mean something." + +"What on earth makes you think that? What could she mean?" + +"I can't explain. At present I don't understand myself; but I +shall--I know I shall. Only I'm afraid." + +"Afraid! Sweetheart, don't talk like that! You make me feel as +if I had done something I oughtn't to have done." + +"You have done nothing. Still I wish you hadn't introduced me. I +asked you not to." + +"But, Meg! the whole thing was your own proposition; the whole +idea was yours from first to last." + +"Yes, I know; but then I didn't understand." + +"What didn't you understand?" + +"I hadn't seen her." + +"You hadn't seen her? Meg, have you ever seen Mrs. Lamb before?" + +"Never." + +"Has she ever seen you?" + +"That's what I'm wondering; that's what I'm trying to make out." + +"It's a very mysterious business altogether; and the way you're +taking it seems to me to be not the least mysterious part of the +whole affair--and I can't say that I'm fond of mysteries. +However, as some one or other says in a play, though I'm afraid +I can't tell you what play, 'Time will show'." + +When they reached Margaret's rooms they found that Frank Staines +and Mr. Winton had arrived already, and were waiting for them at +the street door. They all went up together. So soon as they were +in the room Mr. Winton asked his question-- + +"Well, Miss Wallace, is Mrs. Lamb to create Lady Glover?" + +Had he put to her an inquiry on the answer to which the whole +happiness of her life was dependent, it could hardly have moved +her more. + +"Never! never! never!" + +She repeated the word three times over, with each time an +additional emphasis. Mr. Winton, probably accustomed to +strenuous utterances on the part of ladies to whom the theatre +was the chief end and aim of their existence, appeared to be +entertained by her intensity. Putting his hands behind his back +he regarded her with smiling face. + +"And isn't she to produce the play?--that is, if she's willing +to do so if she's not to be allowed to play in it?" + +"She is to have nothing to do with it--nothing." + +"You appear to have arrived, Miss Wallace, at a decision which +is final and conclusive, and to have done so in a very short +space of time." + +"I have." + +"The matter is placed beyond the pale of my discussion?" + +"It is." + +Mr. Winton turned to Harry with a little gesture of amusement. + +"Then, Talfourd, we shall have to seek for another capitalist, +and as that is not a bird which is easy to find, 'The Gordian +Knot' will have to be shelved for a still further indefinite +period. Let's trust that some of us will live to see it +produced." + +In her turn Margaret faced Harry with an air of penitence. + +"I'm so sorry, but I would rather that it were never produced at +all than that it should owe anything to that woman--and you know +how I have set my heart on its success." + +He tried to comfort her, as if the loss were hers. + +"'The Gordian Knot' won't spoil by keeping; don't let it trouble +you a little bit; dismiss Mrs. Lamb from your mind as if she had +never been. She's nothing to you, or to me, or to any of us; +she's just--like that!" + +He snapped his fingers in the air, as if by the action he +expressed her valuation. Margaret answered with an enigmatic +smile. + +"Like that? I don't think she'll be to me like that--ever." + +"But, my dear girl, why not? why not?" + +"Ah! that I cannot tell you, because I don't know. But I shall +know, and, when I do, I daresay I shall wish I didn't." + +Harry threw up his hands in the air as if it were a case which +baffled him. Frank Staines, who had been listening with a +twinkle in his eyes, observed-- + +"I understand, Miss Wallace, that your appearance at Mrs. Lamb's +furnished the occasion for quite a dramatic interlude". + +Margaret moved her shoulders, as if the recollection made her +shudder. + +"I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind--thank you very +much. I'm awfully sorry to turn you people out, but--I think I'd +like to go to bed, if I may." + +When the three men found themselves in the street Winton said to +Harry-- + +"Miss Wallace's idea does not seem to have been altogether a +success". + +Harry did not reply at once; when he did his tone was a little +grim. + +"I'm not so sure. My own impression is--though if you were to +ask me I could not tell you in so many set terms on what it's +founded--that we're well rid of the lady, and that we are rid of +her I think there's very little doubt." + +Frank Staines remarked-- + +"If the lady's mad, or if she's subject to fits of madness--and +if she isn't I don't know what she is--it's just as well that +you've discovered it before it was too late". + +Judging from their silence that seemed to be the opinion of the +others also. + +The next morning Miss Wallace was distinctly in an +uncommunicative mood, as Miss Johnson, who paid her a very +matutinal call, found, whereupon the young lady expressed +herself with characteristic frankness. + +"Really, Meg, I've known you for quite a time, and I was just +beginning to think that you were a really Christian person, but +now it's actually bursting on me that you can be nothing of the +kind. You sit there, mumchance, looking all sorts of things and +saying nothing; and if there can be anything more exasperating +than that, I should like to know what, it is. You promised, last +night, before you went to Mrs. Lamb, that you would tell me +everything that happened--I'm sure something did happen, by the +looks of you--yet the more I ask you questions, the more you +won't answer them. Do you call that being as good as your word? +I don't--so that's plain. I'm disappointed in you, Margaret +Wallace." + +Margaret smiled, a little wanly. + +"I hope you'll forgive me, Dollie, please! but I can't talk to +you just now, and especially about last night. Ask Harry, or Mr. +Staines, they'll tell you everything, and perhaps a little later +I will myself, but just now I really and truly can't." + +Dollie, eyeing her shrewdly, perceiving she was in earnest, +bowed to the inevitable. + +"Very well; I shouldn't dream of asking anything of Mr. Frank +Staines, he might treat me even worse than you are doing. But +it's possible that I may put a few questions to your Harry. The +fact is that if some one doesn't tell me something soon I shall +simply burst with curiosity. I have never concealed from any one +that curiosity's my ruling passion--it's the case with all +literary persons, my dear! Meg!"--she went and put her arm about +the girl's neck, and the tone of her voice was changed--"if +anything horrid happened at that woman's, never mind; after all, +horrid things don't really matter, they generally turn out much +better than they seem. I once had thirteen MSS. rejected in one +week, and yet I bore up, and I planted them all before I'd done +with them. I've never seen you look like this before, and I +don't half like it. I always make you the heroine of all my +stories, because you're the best plucked girl I ever met; so +buck up, and stop it as soon as you conveniently can." + +Miss Johnson had not departed very long before Margaret had +another visitor--Dr. Twelves. He found her much more talkative +than Dollie had done. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIII + + MARGARET RESOLVES TO FIGHT + + +So soon as the doctor appeared in the doorway Margaret ran to +him with outstretched hands, in her voice a curious, eager note. + +"I knew you'd come!--I knew it!" + +The doctor took her soft hands in his well-worn ones, regarding +her from under the pent-house of his overhanging brows with his +keen hawk's eyes, which age had not perceptibly dimmed, as if he +sought for something which he fancied might be hidden in some +corner of her face. + +"Did you? How did you know it?" + +"I don't know; but I did--I was sure." + +"Maybe you've the gift of second sight. I've heard it said it +was in your father's family." + +"I wish I had; it would be the most useful gift I could have +just now." + +"Would it? How's that? Maybe you knew I'd come because you +wanted me." + +"Wanted you! Doctor, don't you feel unduly flattered! But +there's no one in the world I wanted half so much as you." + +"Is that so? Then it's queer, because I just happen to be +wanting you nearly as much. But before we fall to talking come +to the light, and let me see your face. There's something there +which puzzles me, which I've never seen on it before; it's sure +I am it wasn't there the other day." + +Taking her by the arm he would have led her to the window, but +she placed her hand against his chest and stopped him. + +"No, no, doctor, you mustn't take me to the light, and you +mustn't look at my face either. I'd rather you turned right +round and look at the wall. There's quite a pretty paper on the +wall, and some drawings of mine which you'll find deserve your +very closest attention. I just want to talk to you, and I want +you to talk to me, and answer some questions which I'm going to +ask--and that's all." + +"And that's all? I see. And I'm not to look at your face? Good. +It's prettier than the paper, and far more deserving of +attention than the drawings, but far be it from me to quiz a +lady when she'd rather I didn't. Yet before you start the +talking--perhaps when you've started you'll be slow to +finish--let me say a word. You remember what you told me about +that visit you paid to Cuthbert Grahame--that last visit when +they wouldn't let you in?" + +"It's exactly about that I wish to speak to you." + +"Then that's queerer still, because it's about that I've come to +talk. You told me that it was Nannie Foreshaw who refused you +admission, and that she poured some water on you; and I told you +that I didn't see how she could have very well done that, since, +at that very time, she was lying, with her leg broken, in bed. +When I left I wrote and asked her what she had to say. I've had +an answer from her, and here it is." He took an envelope from +his pocket, and from the envelope a letter, speaking all the +time. "You'll bear in mind that Nannie's not so young as she +was, and that, of late, things have fared ill with her, as they +have a trick of doing when one grows old. She's had a broken +leg, and that's no trifle when the marrow's getting dry in the +bone; and her master--whom she'd had in her arms even before +he'd lain in his mother's--had come to his death in a way that +wasn't so plain as it might have been. She's never quite got the +better of that broken leg; she walks with a stick, and she'll +never walk without one; and she'll never be rid of the thought +that, when Cuthbert Grahame died, though she was only just +above, she couldn't get down to him, or shut his eyes, or see +him before he was put in his coffin, or stand by his grave when +he was buried. That thought troubles her more than the other. +Between the one and the other, and the stress of advancing +years, she's not so good a penwoman as she used to be. And so it +comes about that this letter which I have here was not written +by her own hand, though I have no doubt that they're just her +own words which are set down in it." + +Unfolding the sheet of paper he proceeded to read aloud. + +"'Dear Mr. David'--she's called me that these forty years, and +before that it was Master David, and it doesn't seem as if she +could break herself of the habit, though, mind you, I'm an M.D. +of Edinburgh University, and legally entitled to the prefix +'Doctor,' which is more than can be said for a good many that's +called it. 'It's beyond my thinking'--it's very colloquially +written is this letter, which makes me the more sure that it's +just her words which are set down in it--'It's beyond my +thinking how you could have supposed that I could ever have +turned my darling away from the door?--I never supposed anything +of the kind, but that's by the way--'and refuse to let her in? +My dear Miss Margaret! Mr. David, if I were dying I'd open the +door if I knew that she was there--ay, I believe I would climb +out of my grave to do it.' You observe what exaggerated language +the woman uses? That's her all over. 'And to think that it +should have been her on the day of which you speak--that awful +day! I'll never forgive myself now that I know it.' That's her +again. 'And, Mr. David, I'll find it hard to forgive you +either.' That's the woman to a T--logical. 'If you'd never +brought the creature to the house none of it would ever have +happened, and my darling would never have been denied the door. +And hot water thrown on her sweet head! How slow is the judgment +of God!' Observe how she flies off at a tangent. 'Now I'll tell +you the whole story. That day as I was lying in my bed, where +she had laid me, I heard a great clatter in the house. When, +after it was over, she came up to see me, I asked her what it +was about. She said that a strange man had come begging to the +house, and had tried to force himself into it, but that she had +had to imitate my voice, to make him think it was me that was +talking to him, before he would go. The insolence of her, that +she should try to imitate her betters, and tell me of it to my +face. And now it seems that it was no strange man at all, but +just my darling who had come begging to be let into her own +home. That wicked woman! Tell my sweet, when you see her, Mr. +David, just how it was. And tell her if I had known it was she I +would have crawled down, if it had been on my hands and knees, +to undo the door, and bid her welcome. And say to her that +there's none dearer to me in all the world than she is, and well +she ought to know it. There is one prayer I offer constantly, +that I may be spared to see her sweet face again, and hold her +in my arms, and listen to her dear, soft voice. There is much +more that I would say, but it cannot be written; it is only for +her and for me.' Then the old woman goes off rambling; there is +more, but nothing to the point. Here is her letter; you may read +it for yourself if you like; there are tender messages by the +yard. You'll see that that is not the epistle of a woman who +would drive you from her door." + +"But I don't understand. Who does she mean imitated her voice?" + +"The woman who called herself Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame." + +"Who called herself Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame? I've heard something +about some woman, but nothing that was at all plain. Tell me who +she was, and how she came to call herself by his name." + +The doctor told, as succinctly as he could, the story of the +woman he had picked up by the wayside; how, though he had found +her helpless, she had proved herself to be more than a match for +them all. Margaret listened with eyes which grew wider and wider +open. When he had finished she broke into exclamation. + +"Then Nannie is right; it was through you that it all happened." + +He resorted to his favourite trick--he stroked his bristly chin, +as if the action assisted him in the search for an appropriate +answer. + +"In a measure, young lady--in a measure. My original intention +was to perform an act of mercy. You would not have had me leave +the creature there in the night to perish. The whole business is +but an illustration of the truth of how great events from little +causes spring." + +"To give her assistance, shelter--that was right enough; but, +according to your own statement, you were responsible for that +mockery of marriage." + +The rubbing of the bristles went on with redoubled energy. + +"I might say something on that point, but I'll not; I'll just +admit I'm guilty. And I'll do it the more willingly because +there hasn't been a day on which I haven't told myself that if +there's a creature on God's earth that needed well and regular +hiding that creature's me, because of what I did that night. I +did a great wrong, a great folly, and a great sin. Margaret, +though I am old and you are young, I am ready, if you wish +it--and you'll be right to wish it--to humble myself in the dust +at your feet. My only consolation is that in His infinite mercy, +ultimately, there may be forgiveness even for me." He paused, +then added, with in his voice and manner a suggestion of utter +self-abasement which was in itself pathetic, "And the worst I've +still to add". + +"The worst?" + +She shrank from him, with what seemed to be a gesture of +involuntary and almost unconscious repulsion. + +"Ay, the very worst. Only don't draw yourself from me like that, +lassie--for the love of Christ; for I'm but a poor old man +that's sinned, and that's very near his end, and that would do +all he can to repair his sin before death has him by the +throat." + +"I--I didn't mean to be unkind, but--what were you going to +say?" + +"One thing's about his money--Cuthbert Grahame's money. Several +times he spoke to me about you--more than kindly. I believe he +had it in his mind--as I had, and have it, in mine--to repair +the wrong he'd done you. I have reason to think that it was his +intention to leave you at least a large portion of his fortune, +to re-make the will I had helped him break. I believe that, with +one of his cranky notions to be revenged on her for the part +she'd played, he communicated his intention to her; that he went +so far as to instruct her to draw up such a form of will as he +required. My own impression is that she either actually did do +this, or pretended to, and that, when the time came for him to +affix his signature, she performed some feat of jugglery, which, +under the circumstances, was easy enough, and so got him to sign +a document which expressed the exact opposite of his wishes." + +"Do you mean that he thought he was leaving me his money when +actually he was leaving it to her?" + +"That's about the truth of it--I believe it strongly. I am +persuaded that the will she produced she got from him by means +of a trick. But that is not the worst." + +"Doctor, you're--you're like the old fable, you pile Pelion on +Ossa." + +"I believe that when she had got the will into her possession, +all signed and witnessed, she was confronted by the fact that +exposure of its contents might render it invalid at any moment. +That is probably what would have happened, and in a very short +time, so that to make sure, she killed him then and there." + +"Killed him!" + +"I am convinced that Cuthbert Grahame was killed by the woman +who called herself his wife, and that within ten minutes of the +signing of his will. She propped him up with pillows, then, by +suddenly withdrawing those which supported his head, she let it +hang down, and so choked him. In order to avoid suffocation it +was always necessary to keep his head well raised, a fact with +which no doubt she had made herself acquainted." + +"Doctor! But was there no inquest?" + +"Certainly; and I gave evidence. But what could I say? I had no +proof--not an iota. I could only express my conviction that it +was impossible for him to have moved the pillows himself; and I +did. I doubt if that bare statement had any effect upon the +verdict. She was a very clever woman." + +"Clever! you call her!--clever! If you are right she was an +awful woman--you mustn't call her clever. That sort of thing's +not cleverness." + +"Isn't it? I don't know what it is then. If we had realised her +cleverness from the first we might have been prepared for her; +she might have met her match. It is only by fully recognising +the fact that we have to deal with an uncommonly clever woman +that we shall have the slightest chance of getting the better of +her, and bringing her to book." + +"Bringing her to book! Doctor! where is she? Is she at Pitmuir?" + +"That's not the least strange part of the whole strange +business--where she is. I've been wondering if it's a sign that +God's finger has been slowly moving to set on her His brand. The +young gentleman in whom, I presume, you take a certain amount of +interest, since, one day, you design to honour him by allowing +him to make of you his wife--Mr. Harry Talfourd--told me that he +acts as secretary to a lady." + +"I know." + +"The lady's name is Lamb--Mrs. Gregory Lamb." + +"Yes." + +Margaret, as she uttered the word, was conscious of a catching +in her breath; she herself did not know why. + +"Mrs. Gregory Lamb is the woman I found by the roadside; who +told me that her name was Isabel Burney; who called herself Mrs. +Cuthbert Grahame; who juggled into existence the will under +which she inherits; who murdered the man out of whom she got it +by a trick." + +Margaret was silent, curiously silent. Then she drew a long +breath, and she said-- + +"Now I understand". + +The doctor was struck by something in her intonation which was +odd. + +"Just what is it you understand?" + +She repeated her own words. + +"Now I understand. The veil which seemed to obscure my sight is +being torn away; things are getting plainer and plainer. She was +not mad, as we thought; it was we who were ignorant. Doctor, I +believe that the finger of God, of which you spoke just now, has +moved already." + +"It is likely. It is some time since I looked for it to move, +but He chooses His own time. As for what you say about your +understanding, to me your words are cryptic--unriddle them, +young lady, if you please." + +Margaret, in her turn, told her tale: of her visit to Mrs. +Gregory Lamb; of its abrupt and singular termination. The doctor +listened with every sign of the liveliest interest. + +"As you observe," he cried, when she had done, "it would seem +that the finger of God has moved already. She knew you although +you did not know her, and the sight of you was as though one had +risen from the grave; it filled her with unescapable terror." + +"It's difficult to explain--I've not been able to explain it to +myself until this minute--but I did know her, that is, I felt as +if I ought to know her. Directly Harry pointed her out to me, +something struck at my heart and set me trembling. I don't +often tremble, but I did then. It was as if I were confronted by +some dreadful danger, which had threatened me before, and from +which I had then only escaped by the skin of my teeth. And +yet I don't know that the feeling which affected me most +strongly was terror. No, I don't think it was. It was something +else--something which I can't describe. I believe--doctor, I +believe it was hatred. I hated that woman with a hatred which +was altogether beyond anything of which I had dreamed as +possible, of which I had supposed myself to be capable. I don't +hate people as a rule; I don't remember ever having met any one +whom I seriously disliked. I do think that in almost every one I +have come across I have seen something which I liked. But--in +her! I didn't want Harry to introduce me, to take me nearer, +because I was filled with what seemed even to me an insane, +indeed a demoniacal desire to kill her where she stood." + +While the girl was speaking her appearance seemed to gradually +change, till, when she stopped, she seemed to stand before the +old man like some rhadamanthine, accusatory spirit, ready to +pronounce judgment and to execute the judgment which she herself +pronounced. The doctor watched her with a visage which remained +immobile, almost expressionless. + +"Your words suggest a kind of justice which has become +extinct--in politer circles." + +"Yet justice shall be done!--it shall be done! I will see to it. +I never did her a harm, nor wished her one. Yet she has done me +all the mischief that she could, for wickedness' sake. If she +killed Cuthbert Grahame, she should have killed me also, for, if +I live, I will bring her to the judgment-seat. You say she is in +enjoyment of the money which she won from him by a trick, and +whose safe possession she insured to herself by murder----" + +"Pardon me; to her that's the fly in the ointment. It's +precisely the money which she hasn't got--which is doubly hard, +since, to gain it, she did all that she did." + +"I thought you said that she had it." + +"She has the will under which she inherits, but, so far, she has +inherited comparatively little. Did Grahame ever talk to you +about his money?" + +"In those latter days, when I began to be a woman, there were +only two things about which he would talk, one was his money, +the other his desire that I should be his wife. I loved him +dearly! No daughter ever loved her father better than I loved +him, but not like that!--not like that! When I said no, he would +talk of his money, holding it out as a bait." + +"Did he ever tell you how much of it there was?" + +"He was always saying all sorts of things; I cannot remember all +he said. I know he told me again and again that he had been +saving his money for years for my sake, for me to use when I +became his wife--his wife! He said more than once that there +were fifty thousand pounds a year waiting for me if--if I would +only say the word." + +"Fifty thousand pounds a year? A nice little bait with which to +cover the hook. Some girls would have swallowed the bait and +never minded the hook." + +"Doctor!" + +"Calm yourself, young lady; don't blast me with the lightning of +your eyes. I'm but saying what's well known to all the world. +And did he say where that snug little income came from?" + +"From his investments. He was always boasting of the lucky +investments he had made." + +"Did he ever tell you in what?" + +"He wanted to often, but I wouldn't listen. I daresay he did +mention some of the names, but I paid no attention and have +forgotten them if he did. I hated to hear of his money. I knew +what it meant to him, and I couldn't get him to understand that +it didn't--and never would!--mean the same to me. His talk about +his money helped to poison my life." + +"One knows that to a young girl money has a way of not meaning +so much as to some of us older folk, so I humbly ask your pardon +if I seem to dwell on it too long. Yet I would ask you to cast +back in your mind and think if he ever dropped a hint as to +where the securities, the documents which represented these +investments, might be found?" + +"Weren't they at the bank? or with his lawyers?" + +"They were not. Cannot you recall a hint which he may at +sometime have let fall as to their whereabouts?" + +She put her hands up to her temples, either to ease her +throbbing temples or to aid her memory in its task of looking +back. + +"I can't think! I can't think!--not now! There are so many +things of which I have to think, that they seem to have left me +no power to think of anything else. Some day something which he +once said may come back; I haven't forgotten much he did say to +me; it's all somewhere in my brain, only I can't tell you just +where--not at this very moment. At this moment I can only think +of her." + +"Of whom?" + +The voice which made the inquiry was Harry Talfourd's. He stood +in the open doorway with his hat in his hand. Perceiving that +his appearance seemed to have taken them by surprise he +proceeded to explain. + +"I did knock--twice; but I presume that you were so much +engrossed by what you were saying to each other that my modest +raps went unheeded. I heard you say, Meg, in tragic, not to say +melodramatic tones, that you can only think of her. Shall I be +impertinent if I venture to ask who is the lucky person who so +fully occupies your thoughts?" + +"The lucky person, as you call her, is Mrs. Gregory Lamb. Harry, +they say that in England the duelling days are over. They may +be--that is, so far as so-called 'affairs of honour' are +concerned--but for duels of another sort the day is never over. +I am going to engage in a duel with Mrs. Gregory Lamb. You and +Dr. Twelves here will be my seconds. I shall need all the +assistance that seconds may honourably give to their principal, +for it will be a duel to the death." + + + + + CHAPTER XXIV + + THE INTERIOR + + +Rather a curious state of things prevailed in Mrs. Lamb's +residence in Connaught Square. The largest and best regulated +establishments are apt to be disorganised when festival has been +kept the night before--that is true enough. But in this case the +disorganisation was something altogether out of the common. Mr. +Lamb, who never attended his wife's receptions, and so pleased +himself and the lady, had come home with the milk, just sober +enough to wonder why the place was in such a state of singular +confusion. The servants seemed to be occupying the reception +rooms, enjoying themselves in a fashion in which servants are +not supposed to do. He had a vague recollection of having a +drink with a footman or some such menial while endeavouring to +ascertain what was the meaning of the proceedings, and of +pledging a housemaid's health in what he was convinced was a +glass of his wife's champagne. But as, later, he was only too +glad to be assisted upstairs by any one and every one, his +memory of what took place was scarcely to be relied upon. + +His wife had shut herself in her room, constraining her guests +to take their departure without affording them an opportunity of +saying good-bye to their hostess, and offering her their thanks +for a very pleasant evening. Exactly what occurred behind that +locked door she alone knew. When her senses returned she was +still in her splendour of the previous night. She half lay, half +sat, upon her boudoir floor, with her head upon a couch. A +broken wine-glass was at her side. A decanter which had held +ether was overturned on a buhl table. The day streamed through +the windows. + +It was some seconds before she recognised these facts. Then she +rose to her feet and looked about her. The first thing she did +was to go to the boudoir door and try if it was locked. When she +found that it was, and that the key was nicely adjusted in the +keyhole, so as to prevent any one peeping in from without, she +strode through another door, which stood ajar, into her bedroom, +which adjoined. She tried the outer door of that, to find that +it also was locked. She glanced at a silver clock which stood +upon the mantelpiece. According to it the time was twenty +minutes to one, so that more than half of the day had already +gone. Then she went to a cheval glass, which mirrored her from +head to foot, and glanced at herself. + +What she saw seemed to afford her a grim sort of amusement. Her +hair was all in disorder, one long tress trailed down her neck. +Her eyes were dull and heavy. Her cheeks were smeared; such +"aids to beauty" as she patronised had become misplaced. Her +gown was all creased and crumpled; a stain straggled right +across the bodice. In a few curt words she recognised the +situation so far as the dress was concerned. + +"That's done for." + +It looked as if it were, it might have been worn twenty times +instead of only once. She removed her jewels--her bracelets from +her wrists, rings from her fingers, her necklace, ornaments from +her hair. When they were all off she took them in her hands and +stared at them. + +"At any rate, you're worth money. I daresay I could get +something on you if I tried, though perhaps not so much as some +might think." + +She tossed them on to the dressing-table with a mirthless laugh. +Disrobing herself, donning her nightdress, she ensconced herself +between the sheets. There she tossed and tumbled about in such a +fashion that one was almost disposed to suspect her of indulging +in some new form of physical exercise. When she had got the bed +into a condition which suggested that it had been occupied +throughout the entire night by some peculiarly restless person, +ceasing to turn and twist, for some minutes she lay quite still, +as if she listened. + +"Those servants of mine don't seem to be making much noise; +there aren't many sounds of their moving about the house. I +should like to know where Stephanie is; she ought to have woke +me long before this." + +Stretching out her arm she pressed the electric button which was +by her bedside--once, twice, thrice, indeed half-a-dozen times, +on each occasion for an unusual length of time, and with a fair +interval between each pressure. Nothing, however, transpired to +show that she had rung at all, certainly no one answered her +summons. As she began to realise that apparently she was not +meeting with attention of any sort or kind, her temper did not +improve. She kept up a continuous ringing; still no one +answered, nor was there aught to show that there was any that +heard. She began to be concerned. + +"Has every one taken French leave, and am I alone in the house? +What's it mean?" + +She kept her finger on the button for another good five minutes, +then she decided that the moment had arrived when it would +probably be desirable that she should make some inquiries on her +own account. Rising, she put on some clothes, over them a +dressing-gown. Then, unlocking the bedroom door, she went out on +to the landing. Nothing could be heard. She descended to the +floor below, on which were the drawing-rooms. No attempt to tidy +them had been made since the guests departed; they were in a +state of almost picturesque confusion. Not even the electric +lights had been turned off; they were blazing away as merrily as +if it were still the middle of the night. The apartments +contained certain articles which, as refreshments were provided +in the dining-room, could scarcely have been there when the +guests retired. Bottles and glasses were everywhere--all kinds +of bottles and all kinds of glasses, indeed Mrs. Lamb had nearly +stumbled over what looked like an empty brandy bottle as she +came out of her bedroom door. To Mrs. Lamb the sight of those +various empty receptacles was pregnant with meaning. + +"The beauties! I suppose they're sleeping it off. They shall +smart for this, every one of them." + +She turned towards the staircase which led to the servants' +quarters, with the intention, no doubt, of making them smart, +when she encountered one of them. An unkempt, untidy figure, +clad in a nondescript costume, consisting of checked tweed +trousers, carpet slippers, dress-coat and waistcoat, crumpled +shirt and collar and no necktie, came strolling leisurely down +the stairs as Mrs. Lamb was about to ascend them. It was James +Cottrell, the butler, in general, so far as appearances went, +the most immaculate of beings. His mistress stared at him in not +unnatural surprise. + +"Cottrell!--you!--in that state!--at this time of day!--why, +you're not even dressed." + +So far from showing any signs of being ashamed or disconcerted, +Mr. Cottrell's manner was not only self-possessed, it was +affability itself. Thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets, +he tilted himself on his heels, till his legs touched the stair +behind, and he smiled. + +"No, Mrs. Lamb, I am not dressed--that is, my costume is not in +that perfect state of completeness which I prefer. It is not my +habit to make personal remarks, but since we are on the subject, +I may observe that you're not dressed either. I shouldn't call +that dressing-gown full dress--would you? Your hair don't +look--to me--as if it had been done for days, and you really +must excuse my mentioning that your complexion seems to have got +itself all mixed up anyhow." + +"Cottrell, you're drunk; how dare you speak to me like that?" + +"No, Mrs. Lamb, I am not drunk; I do assure you that I am at +least as sober as you are. If you want to know what drink can do +for a man, I recommend you to go and look at your husband--there +is a drunkard, if you like; he's like a perambulating sponge. +Last night it took six of us to get him upstairs; that man ought +to be black-listed. As for daring to speak to you, Mrs. Lamb, +there may be some folks whom you inspire with awe, but you don't +inspire me with any." + +"Don't you think I'll let you speak to me like that, although +you are a man and I'm a woman. You'll leave my service at +once--and without a character." + +"As for a character, any character which you might give me, Mrs. +Lamb, would, in all human probability, do me more harm than +good. It will be my constant endeavour to conceal the fact that +I ever occupied a position in your establishment; it might do me +a serious injury were it to become known. As to leaving your +service, I shall be only too glad to do so inside sixty seconds; +only there's a little formality which I should like to have +completed before I go. I should like to have my overdue wages, +Mrs. Lamb. They are more than three months overdue, and I should +like to see the colour of my money, Mrs. Lamb." + +"You shall have your wages; you needn't be afraid." + +"Thank you; that is good news. Because, to be quite frank, I was +beginning to be afraid--in fact, we all were." + +"You impertinent brute! Where are those other creatures?" + +"Other creatures? You refer to my colleagues, male and female? +We are all of us creatures, Mrs. Lamb--including you. I believe +that two or three of them have already quitted your service, +including the young Frenchwoman who was supposed to be your own +particular maid. She said that she never bargained to wait on a +woman of your class, so she's gone. I noticed two young women in +the kitchen when I was down there just now. They seemed to be in +a more or less tearful condition. Poor wretches! perhaps they +never expected to find themselves in such a place as this. As +for the rest of my colleagues, I fancy they are still in bed. I +do not doubt that if you take them their overdue wages they'll +get up, and get out of the house also, as quickly as you like. I +imagine they'll be only too glad of the chance." + +Mrs. Lamb looked at Mr. Cottrell as if she were meditating +measures of a distinctly active kind. Although he might not have +been conscious of it, for some seconds he stood in imminent +peril of realising that, at least physically, his mistress was +more than a match for the average man. But, apparently, after +thinking things over she changed her mind and postponed +hostilities. + +"You shall be paid for this, my man--they all shall--just wait a +bit." She moved, as if to return to her bedroom, then paused. +"There's some one at the door." + +There did seem to be some one at the front door, some one who +saluted with equal vigour both the bell and the knocker. Mr. +Cottrell was philosophical. + +"Ah! there's been one or two already this morning. You've +perhaps been in such a queer state yourself that you didn't hear +them, though they made noise enough; but there have been several +visitors. Jones the fishmonger wants his little account, and +Franks the butcher wants his, and Murphy the greengrocer, and +the baker, and the grocer, and the milkman, and, I think, the +laundry, and three or four more besides. They all want their +little accounts--good big ones some of them are. I peeped +through the dining-room window, but I didn't notice just who was +there, and I didn't open to them either. I've had about enough +of opening to those kind of people; they won't go round to the +side entrance, and it's no use asking them to. But that sounds +as if it was the landlord come to put the brokers in for rent. A +landlord always thinks himself entitled to make as much noise as +he likes at his own front door." + +Some one seemed to consider himself at liberty to make as much +clatter as he liked. + +"Cottrell, go down at once and see who is at the door." + +"Wouldn't you like to go and see yourself, Mrs. Lamb?" + +"If you don't obey my orders and go at once I'll throw you out +of the house with my own hands, and you shall whistle for your +wages." + +"Like this? Do I look as if I were in a fit state of attire to +open the door of even such a lady as yourself, Mrs. Lamb?" + +"Are you going?" + +The lady mounted two or three steps; there was something so +significant in her manner that Mr. Cottrell temporised. + +"I shall be only too happy to open the door as I am!--if you +will allow me to pass." She allowed him, and he passed, firing a +passing shot as he went. "You must understand that I intend to +be perfectly frank with whoever's there--perfectly frank, and +truthful. I have had more than sufficient of telling lies on +your account, Mrs. Lamb." At this point, throwing the hall-door +wide open, he addressed some unseen individuals who were without +in tones which were perhaps unnecessarily loud. "If any of you +people want money--and by the look of you I can see you do--it's +no use your asking me, and so I may tell you at once, because I +want money too, and from the same person, and that's Mrs. Lamb; +and as Mrs. Lamb happens to be standing at this moment at the +top of the staircase, in her dressing-gown and with her hair all +over the place, perhaps you'll step in right away, and just say +to her what you've got to say. Well, sir, and what might you +happen to be wanting? Oh, it's Mr. Luker, is it? May I ask, sir, +what you mean by pushing me about as if I was a mechanical toy?" + +It was indeed Mr. Isaac Luker, who had come into the hall with +complete disregard of the fact that Mr. Cottrell was standing in +the doorway. Being in, the visitor regarded the voluble butler +with characteristic impassivity. Then, stretching out the +forefinger of his right hand, he tapped at the centre of Mr. +Cottrell's crumpled shirt-front, and he delivered himself +thus:-- + +"My advice to you is to put your head under the pump if there is +one, and under the tap if there isn't, and let the water run for +a good half-hour, for a complaint like yours it's the best +medicine you can possibly have". + +It seemed that Mr. Cottrell was so taken aback by the proffer of +this very handsome advice that for a moment or two he was at a +loss for a retort; before he found one his mistress had +interposed. + +"Luker, come up here!" + +Mr. Luker looked at the lady at the head of the staircase, at +Mr. Cottrell, at the invisible persons who still remained +without. He seemed to hesitate, as if in doubt whether or not to +take a hand in the game just where he was; then, arriving at a +sudden resolution, he did as the lady requested: he went +upstairs, followed by the retort which Mr. Cottrell had found at +last. + +"Perhaps if you were to try a little of that medicine you +recommend on your own account it mightn't do you any harm." + +The observation went unheeded. Mr. Luker was captured by the +lady the moment he reached the topmost stair. She pointed to the +flight in front. + +"Up you go!" Up he went, with her at his heels. On the next +landing she called his attention to the open bedroom door. "In +you go." Perceiving what the apartment was he favoured her with +what he perhaps meant for a whimsical glance, and in he went. +"Go straight through into the next room--that's my boudoir." He +went straight through, and she also. Closing the door of her +bedroom she stood with her back to it, putting to him a question +almost as if she were aiming a pistol at his head. "Have you +brought that money?" + +Mr. Luker did not at once give her the answer she so +imperatively demanded. Instead, holding his ancient top-hat in +front of him as if it were some precious possession, he ventured +on a remark of his own. + +"Things seem a little at sixes and sevens; they almost suggest +that domestic relations are a trifle strained. That man who +calls himself a butler is not behaving as if he were a butler; +and I regret to notice something about the establishment which +one hardly expects to find in a lady's high-class mansion." + +"Cottrell's going--at once. All the servants are going--lot of +drunken brutes! I'm only waiting for the money to pay them their +wages." + +"Oh, I see. And--those other persons on the doorstep, do they +want money also?" + +"I don't know who's there, and I don't care; but I daresay every +one wants money. I do! Did you hear me ask if you've brought +that money I told you to bring?" + +"To what money are you alluding?" + +"You know very well! None of your fooling! Have you brought that +ten thousand pounds?" + +"Ten thousand pounds!" He held up his hands, with his top-hat +between them. "Ten thousand pounds! She speaks of that great sum +as if it were a mere nothing!" + +"Have you brought it?" + +"I certainly have not." + +"Then what have you brought?" + +"I have brought--nothing." + +"Look here, Luker, I'm in an ugly temper. You ought to know the +signs of it as well as any man, so I advise you to take care. I +told you you were to bring me ten thousand pounds. When I said +it I meant it; why haven't you brought it?" + +"My dear Isabel----" + +"Haven't I told you not to call me that?" + +"Very well; it's a matter of utter indifference to me what I +call you--utter! I was merely about to remark that I have laid +your proposition before my friend, and, as I anticipated, he has +decided that he doesn't care to lend money except on adequate +security." + +"Adequate security! Don't you call a quarter of a million +adequate security?" + +"Certainly, if you had it, but you haven't. And you have nothing +tangible to show that you ever will have, or any part of it." + +"There are those Hardwood Company shares--ten thousand of them." + +"You tell me that you are in an ugly temper, and I can perceive +for myself that you are not so calm as I should wish, otherwise +I should ask for permission to be quite frank with you." + +"You had better be frank! Never you mind about my temper; it +won't be improved by your shuffling. Out with what you've got to +say!" + +"Remember, it will only be said at your express invitation." + +"Do you hear? Out with it!" + +"Then briefly and plainly it's this: If you were anybody else +it's possible that money--some money--might be got on your +expectation of the Hardwood Company's shares, but, as things +are, it's out of the question." + +"Why? What's the matter with my being me?" + +"A good deal, as you're as well aware as I am. In a matter of +this sort it's character which tells, and, unfortunately--I say +it with deep sorrow!--your character's against you." + +"What's my character got to do with a thing of this kind?" + +"Everything. Suppose my friend were to advance you money upon +your expectation of these shares, from your point of view you'd +have him between your finger and thumb, and you'd keep him +there." + +"How do you make that out?" + +"The process of extracting compensation from Messrs. McTavish & +Brown would be, at best, both a lengthy and a tiresome one, one, +moreover, in which not a step could be taken without your active +assistance. You'd find that out, and you'd say, 'If you won't +let me have so much more I won't move a finger, then you'll lose +all that you've advanced already'. And you'd mould your conduct +on those lines to the bitter end--my friend might find it a very +bitter end. That would not suit him at all." + +"You----! I've half a mind to kill you!" + +"Keep it at half a mind; many of my friends and clients have +found it wiser to stop right there." + +"Then do you mean to tell me that I can't get money out of any +one--anyhow?" + +"Not at all; money can always be obtained upon security. You +have personal property--the furniture of this house, jewels, and +so on." + +"What I might get out of that sort of thing would be gone before +I got it." + +"Then you might get money out of Messrs. McTavish & Brown." + +"You've told me over and over again that it would take no +end of a time to do that. I can't wait; I want money--a lot of +it!--now." + +"There's such a thing as compromise." + +"Compromise? What do you mean?" + +"If you insist on receiving the full amount of your demand, no +doubt Messrs. McTavish & Brown will keep you waiting as long as +they can--if you ever succeed in getting it at all. But, +supposing you agree to accept half----" + +"Or three-quarters." + +"Or three-quarters. The major sum might be mentioned first; but, +if time is of importance, I should advise you to allow yourself +to be persuaded to accept half, or even a trifle less, and to +give a full quittance for all claims, on condition, say, that +the amount agreed upon is paid within four-and-twenty hours." + +"They shall pay it!--I'll see to that! And then when I've got it +I'll go at 'em for the rest." + +"Ahem! I cannot allow myself to be associated with any such +scheme as that." + +"Can't you? We'll see! You stop where you are. I'll dress, and +then you shall go with me to Messrs. McTavish & Brown as my +legal adviser! and when I leave them I'll be richer than when I +started, or they'll be sorry!" Mrs. Lamb passed into her +bedroom, through the partially open door of which her voice +proceeded: "Don't you go meddling with any of the things in +there; I know exactly what there is, so don't you think I don't. +If I suspected you of taking so much as a paper-knife, I'd have +it out of you if I had to strip every rag of clothing off you to +get at it." + + + + + CHAPTER XXV + + ALARUMS AND EXCURSIONS + + +Messrs. McTavish & Brown, solicitors, of Southampton Row, +London, W.C., had a large, sound and lucrative family +connection. They numbered among their clients several people of +really excellent position, persons whose names ought to have +been in the _Doomsday Book_, and were in Burke's _Landed +Gentry_, and in various other places in which one would +desire one's name to be found. Among those names was that of +Dykes--Lady Julia Dykes, relict of Sir Eastman Dykes, third +baronet of Fennington Park, Essex. Sir Eastman had himself been +one of the firm's clients, one whom they had every reason to +value highly. His testamentary dispositions had been of such a +kind that the administration of his estate had practically been +left in the hands of Messrs. McTavish & Brown until the coming +of age of his eldest son. A handsome income had been left to his +well-beloved wife, together with the nominal guardianship of +everything which once was his; actually, however, she did +nothing of the slightest importance except with the cognisance +and approval of the gentlemen in Southampton Row. + +Lady Dykes was a lady of a certain age, and of almost more than +a certain presence. She was one of those persons who are +constitutionally prone to lean--metaphorically!--upon some one +or something, and she leaned upon Messrs. McTavish & Brown +rather more than they altogether cared for. She consulted them +not only every week, but sometimes on each day of the week; +often on matters which had no connection with the law, and had +nothing to do with them either. + +She had been known to ask their advice on the question of the +retention or dismissal of a cook. On one memorable occasion she +had actually written to them to learn if they thought that it +would be becoming for her to attend a drawing-room in a scarlet +satin gown. To make the matter worse, that letter was addressed +to Mr. McTavish in person. As it was a standing joke with Mr. +Brown, who allowed himself an indecorous latitude in matters of +real importance, that her ladyship had matrimonial designs upon +that well-seasoned bachelor, it was a painful moment to Mr. +McTavish when he learned that she requested his advice upon +what, to his thinking, was a matter of such singular delicacy. + +On the afternoon on which Mrs. Gregory Lamb set out with Mr. +Luker to visit Messrs. McTavish & Brown, Lady Dykes was paying +one of her very numerous visits to her solicitors. She was +closeted with both partners in Mr. McTavish's private room, the +senior partner having insisted on summoning the junior to take +part in the inevitable conference, he having an almost morbid +disinclination to be left alone with her. McTavish had an +uncomfortable feeling, however much he might try to hide the +fact from Brown, that her ladyship was disposed to show herself +much more friendly when he had no one to keep him in +countenance. Had they dared, both men would have made it a +general rule to put her off on to one of their managing clerks, +but they had learned from experience that though the soul of +generosity she was quick to take offence, and, therefore, if she +would talk nonsense, all they could do was to make her pay for +it--which they did. + +The time had arrived for her eldest hope, Eastman, to take up +his residence at the university. On the present occasion she had +called to renew, for the fiftieth time, the interminable +discussion as to what was the exact annual amount he was to be +allowed while there, and what exactly he was to do with it. + +"I am particularly anxious," she explained, as she had done over +and over and over again (some ladies think that the more they +repeat themselves the more emphatic they become--which is a +mistake), "that he should not waste his money, and worse than +waste his money, on what I cannot but consider, and every mother +would consider--every mother who cares for her child (and how +many mothers do!)--extremely undesirable connections. For +instance"--she started on a little story which her legal +advisers had heard from her lips more than a dozen times--"Mrs. +Adams was telling me only a few weeks ago that her second son, +Bernard, who is at Cambridge, at Caius College, or Trinity, or +Keble, or St. John's--it's one or the other--I'm not sure which, +though I know he's in some part of the building"--she always +spoke of a university as if it consisted of one large +building, though she must have known better--"has been +lavishing--positively lavishing!--articles of various kinds, +gifts, presents of every description, from bon-bons to gloves, +and from shoes to ribbons, and I don't know what else beside--it +seems he kept a list of them, I don't know why, and she found +it--it made me dizzy to hear her merely read it through, it was +that long!--upon, of all creatures in the world--it seems +inconceivable, for I've known the boy from a baby, and so did +Sir Eastman--but it was a young woman in a tobacconist's shop. +Picture what his mother's feelings were; picture what mine would +be if I made a similar discovery. If there is one rule to which +I have adhered through life it is to allow no one connected with +me to have anything to do with females of questionable +antecedents. And a tobacconist shop! Am I not right?" + +She looked directly at Mr. McTavish, who coughed, and answered-- + +"Certainly, Lady Dykes; quite right". + +Mr. Brown said nothing; he looked the more. + +"You yourselves, although of the opposite sex, know perfectly +well how necessary it is to have such a rule. You would not have +built up this great business were it not universally known that +you invariably refuse to accept as clients persons--especially +when they are of the feminine gender--who are not of the highest +respectability. I myself should not be here at the present +moment were I not assured that was the case--of course that you +understand. You would no more allow a woman of a certain class +to enter your private office, Mr. McTavish, than I should allow +a navvy to enter my drawing-room." + +It was perhaps a trifle unfortunate that Mrs. Gregory Lamb, +attended by Mr. Isaac Luker, should have chosen that particular +moment to introduce herself into the premises of Messrs. +McTavish & Brown. On the road Mr. Luker had endeavoured to +persuade the lady to leave the negotiations as much as possible +in his hands, a suggestion which she had repudiated with scorn. + +"If any one can play this sort of game better than I can, I've +never met them. All you have to do is to chime in when I tell +you. If I fail to jockey some coin out of them somehow, then it +will be time for you to try your hand." + +"I am not so sure of that. It occurs to me as at least possible +that if you fail it won't be worth any one's while to take a +hand." + +It was not in consonance with the lady's plan of campaign to +resort, throughout the entire proceedings, to any of the minor +civilities of life. For instance she deemed it neither necessary +nor advisable to announce her presence by knocking at the outer +door. She simply swung it right back on to its hinges, and +strode straight in, not with the lightest strides. In the outer +office it was customary for visitors to mention who it was they +wished to see, possibly, also, the nature of their business, and +then wait in patience till it was intimated to them that they +were at liberty to penetrate farther. No such formula was likely +to suit Mrs. Lamb, for one reason if for no other. She was well +aware that if the heads of the firm had their way nothing would +induce them to suffer her to enter their presence. Indeed so +soon as the clerks in the outer office recognised who it was, +one of them, starting up, prepared to rush to his principals to +warn them of her coming. But the lady was too quick for him. +While he was already half-way through the farther door, the +lady, catching him by the shoulder, swung him round in a fashion +which was a sufficient testimony to the fact that her arm still +retained at least a good deal of its pristine vigour. Before he +had a chance to recover she was in the apartment which was +reserved as a sanctum for the senior clerks, her appearance +causing a sensation among those respectable elderly gentlemen, +which was both ludicrous and surprising. The senior engrossing +clerk, Mr. Riseley, was the only one among them who retained +even a fragment of presence of mind. He endeavoured to interpose +his person between the lady and the approach to Mr. McTavish's +private sitting-room. + +"Mrs. Lamb, what is the meaning of this behaviour? Such conduct +is not to be endured; I must ask you to leave this room at +once!" + +"Get out of the way," was the only answer which Mrs. Lamb +vouchsafed. + +"I shall do nothing of the kind--certainly not; my duty to my +employers forbids it. You can see neither Mr. McTavish nor Mr. +Brown, they--they are both of them most particularly engaged." + +Mrs. Lamb condescended to waste no more words on him. He was +rather larger than the other clerk, so she used both arms, +darting them out in front of her as if they were battering-rams, +dashing her half-open palms against him with such force as to +drive him against a neighbouring table, overturning both it and +its proper occupant with a clatter on to the ground. Then she +went rushing into the senior partner's holy of holies as if she +had been some mad bull, crying "Come along, Luker," as she +rushed. + +Mr. Luker went along, not quite so demonstratively as she did, +still, considering his build and the difference in his methods, +he managed pretty well. Yet he did not move fast enough for his +energetic client. As he was coming through the door, seizing him +by the arm, she gave it a jerk which sent him whirling half +across the room and his hat flying into a corner. The instant +she was in she slammed the door behind her, snapped the lock, +and pocketed the key. + +As Lady Dykes had just been dwelling on her consciousness of the +fact that under no consideration whatever would Messrs. McTavish +& Brown allow doubtful female persons to set foot inside their +offices, it was rather an unfortunate moment for her to make her +entry. So both the partners decidedly seemed to think. As for +Lady Dykes, she started from her chair with as much agility as +her figure would permit, and stared at the intruder open-eyed. + +"Good gracious!" she exclaimed. "Who is this person? and what +does she want?" + +Mr. Brown, having his wits about him, made for the second door +(most lawyers have at least two entrances to their own +particular preserves), observing as he moved-- + +"Lady Dykes, might I ask you to----" + +He got no farther; Mrs. Lamb cut him short. Her wits were even +more on the alert than his. Perceiving, on the instant, his +objective, dashing after him, pushing him aside as if he were +some insignificant thing, she gained the second door, banged it +to, locked it, and pocketed that key also. Then, turning, she +confronted her victims with a laugh which did not by any means +ring pleasantly in their ears. + +"It seems as if I had arrived in the very nick of time. I +couldn't have bagged the pair of you more neatly if I'd had an +appointment with you--could I?" + +Lady Dykes, who was the most nervous of her sex, was trembling +almost as if she were a species of human jelly-fish. + +"Dear! dear!" she gasped. "Who is this person? and what does she +want? Make her open the door at once, and let me out! My footman +will be wondering what has become of me." + +Mrs. Lamb favoured her with an answer--of a kind. + +"I'll tell you who I am. I'm one of their clients! I'm one of +the helpless, ignorant women whom they've robbed and plundered, +but before all's finished they'll find that I'm not so helpless +and ignorant as they thought. And I'll tell you what I want: I +want back some of the money they've stolen, and before anybody +leaves this room I'll have it. I've stood their shuffling long +enough, but I won't stand it any longer, as I'm here to show +them." + +Mr. Brown, who still seemed to have most control over his +tongue, addressed himself to Mr. Luker. + +"Mr. Luker, I believe you are a fully admitted solicitor. As +such I call on you to notice that Mrs. Lamb's words are +actionable. And I request you, unless you wish to get yourself +and her into serious trouble, to insist on her opening the two +doors which she has improperly locked, and on her leaving these +premises at once. Surely it is not necessary for me to point out +that, otherwise, the consequences to both of you will be of the +gravest possible kind." + +Mrs. Lamb placed herself in front of the irate Mr. Brown. + +"Don't you waste your breath talking to Mr. Luker; he's not on +in this scene--not just at present, anyhow. If you've anything +to say, you say it to me; it's me you have to deal with, not +him." + +"Mrs. Lamb, I will have nothing to do with you of any sort or +kind; after the monstrous fashion in which you have behaved it +is the sheerest absurdity to suppose that we can have any +communication with you except through a properly accredited +representative." + +"So I've behaved in a monstrous fashion, have I? I'll teach you +to talk to me like that." + +She began the lesson then and there. Gripping him by both +shoulders she shook him as a terrier shakes a rat. He was a +slightly built man, not physically strong; had he been a rat he +could scarcely have seemed more helpless in her hands. When, +presumably, she was of opinion that the first lesson had lasted +long enough, she honoured him with a few remarks. + +"You take from me everything on which you can lay your claws; +you strip me of every shilling I possess; and then, when I ask +for some of it back, you insult me. You--dirty--thief!" Here +there was another bout of shaking. "There are men doing penal +servitude who aren't half such mean, sneaking scamps as you +are--and plenty of them." + +She flung him from her against the wall, leaving him to struggle +for breath as best he might. Lady Dykes, in an armchair, was +developing what promised to be a very fine attack of hysterics. +She was beginning to make as much noise as Mrs. Lamb herself. +Mr. McTavish, who, judging from his appearance, had been in +imminent peril of a stroke of apoplexy, seemed all at once to +regain his power of speech. + +"Upon my word, you're--you're--you're the most dangerous woman I +ever heard of!" + +"And you're the most dangerous thief! Perhaps before I've done +with you you'll find that thieving's almost as dangerous to +yourself as to those on whom you practise." + +There came a smart rapping on one of the doors, and a voice from +without. + +"Shall we send for a policeman, sir?" + +"By all means!--at once! Let him break down the door if he can't +get in any other way! This--this woman's--positively dangerous." + +"You're right there; I am--you've made me dangerous. And don't +you think that a policeman, or ten policemen, will keep me from +being even with you if I once get started; not all the policemen +in London couldn't do it!" + +Mr. Luker, seemingly under the impression that his client was +going a little too far, even for her, ventured on an +interposition. + +"Pardon me, Mrs. Lamb, but, if you will allow me to say so, I +think this matter can be settled on a perfectly peaceful basis. +If these gentlemen are disposed to be reasonable, and I feel +sure they are, everything can be arranged without unpleasantness +of any sort or kind. The point is----" + +Mrs. Lamb took the words out of his mouth, substituting, that +is, words of her own. + +"The point is, that, among other things, you've robbed me of ten +thousand Hardwood Company's shares." + +"It's an infamous falsehood! We've done nothing of the kind!" + +"Haven't you? I know you have, and so do you; but you're one of +those brazen-faced old sinners who would go to the gallows with +a lie on your lips. Those shares are worth fifty thousand +pounds, and more; but as you've robbed me of every penny I have +in the world, and left me with nothing but starvation staring me +in the face----" + +"It's--it's incredible how any one should dare to say such +things!--incredible!" + +"So there's nothing left for me but to try to come to terms with +the robbers, and that's what I have come for. If you'll give me +a cheque for forty thousand pounds--now!--this minute!--you may +keep the other ten, and much good may it do you. So just you +move yourself. Sit down at that table and write me a cheque for +forty thousand pounds." + +"Forty thousand pounds! Do you suppose----" + +"I suppose nothing. You do as I tell you, or you'll be sorry." + +Again Mr. Luker ventured on an interposition. + +"If, once more, you will excuse me, Mrs. Lamb, if you will +permit me I will point out to Mr. McTavish how much more than +moderate you are disposed to be in your demands. I have Mrs. +Lamb's permission to inform you, Mr. McTavish, that she is in +absolute want of ready cash; that she is practically in a state +of destitution; and that therefore she is willing to waive her +lawful claims to such an extent that she is prepared to accept +the sum of five-and-twenty thousand pounds; a fair proportion to +be paid at once, and the balance on a given date; and to give +you in exchange a discharge in full for all her claims against +you respecting the Hardwood Company's shares." + +Mrs. Lamb's manner, as she acquiesced in her solicitor's +modification of her terms, was not precisely gracious. + +"If I take twenty-five thousand pounds that will be going +halves. If I am to be robbed I suppose I may as well be properly +robbed; but I'll have at least ten thousand pounds in cash. So, +now, Mr. McTavish, without any more fuss, perhaps you'll let me +have a cheque for that ten thousand." + +"Ten thousand pounds! I'll not give you a cheque for tenpence." + +"You're two men, and I'm only a woman, but you'll find that I'm +much more than a match for the pair of you; and if you're not +careful I'll thrash you both till within an inch of your lives; +I'll leave marks on you which you'll carry to your graves. As +for you, you bloated old whisky barrel, I've only got to give +you one or two smart ones in the proper place, and you'll be in +your grave before you think. So if you want to keep on living, +you'll make no more bones about handing me that cheque." + +"This--this is worse than highway robbery! In my own office +you--you positively threaten----" + +"Threaten! I'll do more than threaten! Quick! Are you going to +fork up or am I to break every bone in your body?" + +"I--I--I will not be bullied----" + +"Bullied! I'll show you!" She snatched up a stout malacca cane +which stood by Mr. McTavish's table, and which was that +gentleman's property. "To start with, I'll splinter this over +your bodies, then I'll smash everything else in the place, and +you into the bargain. Now is it going to be the coin or----" + +The hand holding the stick went up into the air, the gesture +rounding off the sentence with sufficient significance. + +"You wicked woman! how dare you threaten me with my own stick? +Help! Where is that policeman?" + +"Policeman! Do you think I care for a policeman? Not that much!" + +Down came the stick with a swishing sound through the air. As it +descended Mr. Luker caught the lady by the wrist. + +"Mrs. Lamb, I do implore you to pause a moment for +consideration. I reiterate my conviction that if you will only +exercise a little patience this matter can be settled amicably +and without violence." + +"Luker, if you don't want to let yourself in for a little +handling on your own account you'll let go of my wrist." + +"On the contrary, Mr. Luker, I beg you will keep a tight +hold--the woman must be stark mad." + +"Mad!" With a sudden twist Mrs. Lamb wrenched herself loose from +Mr. Luker, and that same moment there was a smart rapping at the +door, and an authoritative voice was heard without. + +"I'm a police constable. What's going on in there? Open this +door at once." + +"Break it open, constable, break it open. I'm Mr. McTavish, and +I authorise you. We're--we're in actual danger of our lives." + +There must have been some one on the other side who knew how to +deal with a locked door, for in a surprisingly short space of +time it was open. A constable was revealed, supported by a +considerable body of clerks, of all ages, in the background. The +representative of law and order advanced into the room. + +"What's taking place in here?" + +"I'm Mr. McTavish, officer, the senior partner in this firm. +This--this woman has been endeavouring to extract money by means +of threats. I must request you to eject her from these premises +at once." + +"Do you charge her?" + +"Not at this moment, though, no doubt, later proceedings will be +taken which will bring home to her a sense of her misconduct. At +present all I want you to do is to turn her out." + +"And this woman also?" + +The allusion was to Lady Dykes. Mr. McTavish was shocked. + +"Dear me, no; that is Lady Dykes, of Fennington Park, one of our +most esteemed clients, who has already been subjected to the +most terrible annoyance. The man"--pointing to Mr. Luker--"you +will turn out with the woman." + +The constable touched Mr. Luker on the arm. + +"Now, sir, offer the lady a good example, and show her the way +out." + +Mr. Luker put his hat on, and, without a word, prepared to act +on the officer's advice. Mrs. Lamb caught him by the shoulder. + +"You cur! Don't be a fool, Luker, and do as he tells you." + +The constable smiled, good-humouredly. + +"If you're a wise man, sir, you will do as I tell you, and +you'll talk the matter over with the lady afterwards." + +Mr. Luker seemed to incline to the opinion that the policeman's +was the voice of wisdom. Withdrawing himself from the lady's +detaining fingers, still without a word, he left the room. The +constable addressed himself to Mrs. Lamb. + +"Now, madam, we policemen hate to have to be rude to a lady; +might I ask you to oblige me by following your friend's very +excellent example? That's the way out." + +He jerked his thumb towards the open door. Mrs. Lamb looked at +him and at the others. Apparently what she saw forced her to the +conclusion that what she called "the game" was "up". She brought +Mr. McTavish's malacca cane on to a writing-table with a +resounding thwack. + +"You couple of thieves! I'll wring your necks for you yet before +I've done!" + +She dashed the stick upon the floor and went, the clerks +treading on each others' toes in their anxiety to give her as +much room as she required. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVI + + SOLICITOR AND CLIENT + + +A pseudo-historical utterance was paraphrased by Mr. Luker when +the lady joined him in the street without. + +"It may have been magnificent, but it wasn't war." + +It is possible that Mrs. Lamb knew very little about the charge +at Balaclava. It is certain that she had never heard of the +phrase with which the critical French general has been credited. +And she was in a red-hot temper, so that in any case she was in +no mood to appreciate her legal adviser's recondite allusions. +The lady's own remark was idiomatic in the extreme. + +"Luker, I'd like to knock your head clean off your shoulders. If +it hadn't been for you I'd have got all the ready I wanted out +of that couple of cripples, or----" + +"Or you'd have been on your road to the lock-up. There's no 'or' +about it; if it hadn't been for me you would have been. My dear +Isabel----" + +"Don't call me----" + +"All right; I won't. If I were to call you all that I think you +ought to be called, you mightn't like it. I was merely about to +remark that your methods are too primitive. In London you can't +go into an office and get all the money you want out of a couple +of lawyers, old or young, with the aid of a stick. It can't be +done. If it could be done people would be doing it all day +long." + +"Can't I?" Mrs. Lamb's tone was grim. "You don't know me yet. +You wait till I get them to myself, either together or singly, +and I'll lay you the National Debt to sixpence that I don't +leave 'em till I've got what I want. I've my own methods, and +I've found them pay me very well up to now." + +"I don't doubt your capacity; when I think of where you were and +of where you are I've no reason to. But in dealing with people +like McTavish & Brown, with a strong case like yours, diplomacy +pays better than violence. If you'd left the conduct of the +affair to me I'd have at any rate exacted from them the promise +of a satisfactory sum in settlement of all claims. As it is, +where are you?" + +He held out his hand, palm uppermost, as if to show that there +was nothing in it. She walked by his side for some little +distance in silence; when she spoke her tone was still grim. + +"I'll tell you where I am--I'm with you. And I tell you what it +is--as I couldn't get any money out of them, I'm going to get it +out of you." + +"Are you? I don't see how." + +"Don't you? I do." + +"You can't get blood out of a stone." + +"No; because there's no blood in a stone. But I can get money +out of you, because you've plenty." + +"I wish I had." + +"Don't you worry; your wish was granted before it was uttered. +I'll show you where some of it is, if you like." + +In his turn Mr. Luker for a while was still. Then stopping, he +held out his hand. + +"I wish you good-afternoon, Mrs. Lamb." + +"You needn't; I'm coming with you." + +"I'm afraid I have an appointment which will prevent my enjoying +the pleasure of your company any longer." + +"Oh no, you haven't. Besides, it will make no difference if you +have--I'm coming with you." + +"You are coming with me? What do you mean?" + +"I mean that I'm going to accompany you to your private +residence, Mr. Luker. I want to have a quiet chat with you. I +can have it there better than anywhere else. We shall be snug, +and all by ourselves." + +He looked at her with his bleared, half-open eyes--he seemed +to be physically incapable of opening them to their full +extent--with an expression which some ladies would not have +considered flattering, nor were his words exactly complimentary. + +"I would as soon go home with a tigress as with you in your +present mood--indeed, of the two, I think I would prefer the +tigress. I have been in too many tight places to feel inclined +to walk, with my eyes open, into quite such a tight place as +that would be. Once more I have to inform you that I have an +appointment which will prevent my having the pleasure of your +company any farther, so I wish you good-afternoon." + +"And once more I tell you that I'm coming home with you." + +"Oh no, you're not." + +"Oh yes, I am." + +"I think you are mistaken." + +He beckoned to a policeman who happened to be standing by the +kerb at a little distance from where they were. + +"What do you want with him?" she demanded. + +"I am going to appeal to that officer for protection, and I +don't think you will find that I shall do so in vain. You will +compel people to summon the police--it is extremely unwise." + +The constable was sauntering towards them. Recognising, +apparently, that there was logic in what Mr. Luker said, +without waiting for the policeman to approach, also without +going through the empty formula of wishing the solicitor +good-afternoon, she marched off and left Mr. Luker alone. When she +had gone, perhaps, a hundred yards, she stopped and looked back. +Mr. Luker, who was still where she had left him, was seemingly +enjoying a little friendly converse with the constable. She +continued her progress for, possibly, another hundred yards, and +then again looked back. This time Mr. Luker had vanished. She +could distinguish the stalwart figure of the constable striding +along in solitary state in the distance. She signalled to a +hansom. "Stamford Street, Blackfriars Bridge end," was the +direction she gave the driver. When the vehicle had brought her +to the point she desired, descending, she dismissed it. She +stood for two or three minutes, scanning the passers-by, keenly +observing, so far as she was able, every one in sight. Then, +turning into Stamford Street, she presently turned again into a +street on her right. She was coming into a very shady +neighbourhood, in which one opined that women of her appearance +were very occasional visitants. She twisted and turned, however, +with the unerring rapidity of one who knew it uncommonly well, +until at last she found herself in what was rather an alley than +a street, and a cul-de-sac at that, for at the end was nothing +but a high blank wall. Here the tenements were not only +extremely small, apparently consisting of five or six rooms at +most, they were also of disreputable appearance. Pausing in +front of one she regarded it with an attentive eye. The fact +that the blinds were down gave it a deserted look. She knocked +once, twice--there was no bell. When no one answered she drew a +conclusion of her own. + +"He's not come yet; I'll wait." + +She did wait, for a good half-hour, with exemplary patience, in +spite of the fact that long before the period of waiting was at +an end she had become an object of much interest to a large +number of curious eyes. Just as the observers were beginning to +wonder how long she did intend to stop, the object of her +flattering quest came into sight, in the shape of the legal +gentleman from whom she had so lately parted--Mr. Isaac Luker. +Contrary to her hopes and expectations he was not alone; once +more her wily old friend had proved equal to the needs of the +occasion. On either side of him were men whose character, or, +rather, want of character, was written large all over them--two +more unmistakable ruffians one would have to go far to see. At +sight of her Mr. Luker came to a standstill. + +"I thought I should find you waiting for me here; your presence +is not at all unexpected. So, as in this neighbourhood the +police are not much protection, and I suspected that I might +stand in need of protection, I brought my two friends here with +me. They think little of putting a woman of your sort into the +river, as gentlemen of their profession generally do, so I'll +leave them to deal with you after the mode with which they are +most familiar." + +"Is this 'er?" inquired one of the friends, a beetle-browed +person, with an open gash running right down his filthy cheek. + +"That's her, my good friend. You talk to her, in any way you +please, while I go inside." + +As he produced his latch-key Mrs. Lamb moved towards him in a +forlorn-hope sort of spirit. + +"Let me come in! There's something which I must say to you." + +Without giving her a hint of his intention the beetle-browed +person struck her with his clenched fist on the shoulder in such +fashion that, had she not lurched against the wall, Mrs. Lamb +would have gone headlong to the ground. Mr. Luker stood to +comment on the action. + +"That's right, my friend; that's how she likes to talk to +others." + +He disappeared into the house; they heard him locking and +bolting the door. The beetle-browed person placed himself in +unpleasant proximity to Mrs. Lamb; his manner was, if possible, +even more eloquent than his words. + +"Now then, are you going to take yourself off, or have we got to +move you? Make up your mind, because our time's valuable." + +She made up her mind, there and then. Realising that she was +doomed to still another disappointment, she took herself off, +with Mr. Luker's two "friends" at her heels. When she was back +again into Stamford Street she stopped and spoke to them. + +"There are police here, as, if you try to follow me another +step, you'll find." + +"We don't want to follow you--not much! We only want to keep you +off the governor, that's all. You can go where you like, and you +can do what you like, but if you come near his crib again we'll +mark you." + +Hailing another hansom Mrs. Lamb left Mr. Luker's two "friends" +standing on the pavement. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVII + + PURE ETHER + + +At the house in Connaught Square Mrs. Lamb had to knock and ring +four times without, apparently, attracting the attention of any +one inside. She was meditating gaining admittance through the +area door, when a fifth assault upon the bell and knocker was +productive of a more definite result. After a good deal of what +seemed unnecessary fumbling with the handle, the door was opened +sufficiently wide to admit of Cottrell, the butler, being seen +within. He was attired in the same extremely undignified costume +in which he had greeted his mistress in the morning, which, +however, showed certain signs of what might be called +degeneration. The shirt-front was, if possible, more crumpled +than before; the collar was gone; the waistcoat had, in some +mysterious way, strayed out of the straight, so that while it +was on one side of his body the shirt was on the other; his hair +was rumpled; the whole man looked as if a plentiful application +of cold, clean water might do him a great deal of good. + +He held the door just wide enough open to enable him to display +his person and to see who was there, seeming to be not at all +abashed when he perceived that it was his mistress. + +"So it's you, is it! So you've come at last; it's about time; +we thought you never were coming. I hope you've brought some +money--everybody hopes so. It's no good your coming into this +house if you haven't--not the least." + +Mrs. Lamb was in a bad temper, which, perhaps, on the whole was +not surprising. She had been in a bad temper when she had +started to visit Messrs. McTavish & Brown. The incidents which +had marked the afternoon had not tended to sweeten it. On the +contrary, for quite a time she had been looking for somebody on +whom, to use an expressive euphemism, she might "let herself +go". Had Mr. Cottrell been aware of the lady's state of mind, +even in his then peculiar condition, he might have realised that +there are occasions on which discretion is the better part of +valour. He would certainly hardly have afforded her not only so +excellent an opportunity of giving expression to her feelings, +but also so capital an occasion of making her quarrel just. She +looked at Mr. Cottrell with something in her eyes which should +in itself have been sufficient to serve as a warning; there was +still time for him to perform a strategic retreat. Without a +word she went quickly up the steps, flung the door wide open, +seized him by the shoulders, and sent him spinning into the +street. He sat, for some moments, on the kerb, as if overcome. +Then, exceeding rash, he retraced his way up the steps as best +he could, with the apparent intention of inquiring why he had +been handled in such unceremonious fashion. Before, however, he +had gained the actual summit, he went flying backwards, with the +lady's assistance, in such summary fashion that it was only the +back of his head being brought into contact with the pavement +that stopped him. + +When he understood, dimly, what had happened, he began to raise +an agreeable hullabaloo, mingling imprecations on all and +sundry, with curses on the lady in particular, and cries of help +to the public and the police. Mrs. Lamb, for the third time that +day, was brought into contact with a constable. A policeman +appearing round the corner, perceiving Mr. Cottrell +gesticulating on the pavement, came sauntering up to learn what +was wrong. The butler explained. + +"I give her into custody, that's what I do!--tried to murder me, +that's what she's done!--broken my brains out!--assault and +battery, that's what it is; and that's what I charge her with, +policeman. You put the handcuffs on her, and take her to the +station, and I'll come round and give all the evidence that's +wanted." + +The officer was calmer than Mr. Cottrell. He heard the butler to +an end, then he glanced at his mistress. + +"What's wrong?" + +She explained. + +"That man's my butler, although you would not think it to look +at him. He has taken advantage of my absence to get into that +condition. He kept me waiting for more than twenty minutes on +the doorstep, and then when he opened he was not only drunk but +insolent. I have dismissed him from my service, and put him into +the street, and out in the street he stops. I should be obliged +by your moving him away, and preventing his making a disturbance +in front of the house." + +The policeman, who was young, leaped to the conclusion that +right was on the side of the lady. He was disposed to give the +butler but a short shrift. + +"Now, then, move on! Away you go! We don't want any of your +nonsense here!" + +Mr. Cottrell vehemently objected. + +"Don't talk to me like that, policeman! She owes me three +months' wages; there's another nearly due, and another instead +of notice. You let her pay me five months' wages before she +talks of putting me out into the street." + +The policeman looked up at the lady. + +"Is what he says true?" + +"It's an entire falsehood. Any claim he may have to make must be +made in the proper quarter." + +She threw the door wide open. By now other members of the +household had, unwisely enough, come up to see what the +discussion was about. Her action revealed them. + +"You see, officer, here are some more of my servants. They, +also, have taken advantage of my absence, and are like that +man--drunk. I dismiss them all--now. Perhaps you won't mind +coming in and seeing their boxes packed; I suspect them of +having property of mine in their possession." + +The policeman went in--Mr. Cottrell went in also, with his +assistance; he saw their boxes packed. It was a process in which +the packers fared badly, the butler in particular. Each servant +in the house, almost without exception, was shown to be in +possession of property which was indisputably Mrs. Lamb's. Their +mistress' attitude was one of magnanimity. She declined to +prefer a charge against them, at any rate just then, whatever +she might do later. Though, of course, under the circumstances, +to pay them anything in the shape of wages was altogether out of +the question. All she wanted to do was to see their backs. And +she saw them. A shamefaced, miserable, draggle-tailed crew they +looked, as, one after the other, under the policeman's cold +official glance, they took their boxes out into the street. Then +Mrs. Lamb presented that zealous young officer with a sovereign. +He made short work of clearing the debris away from the front. + +So Mrs. Lamb was left alone in that great mansion without a +servant to wait on her of any sort or kind. + +She went into the boudoir; that and her bedroom, and indeed the +whole house, was exactly in the same condition in which she had +found it in the morning. It seemed as if no one had moved a +finger to put anything in order. Removing her hat, she sat down +and tried to think. The result was a failure. Her thoughts would +not travel on the lines she wished; they would launch out in +undesirable directions. She had scarcely been there a minute +before she began to become conscious of an unpleasant feeling +that she was not alone, when, all the time, she knew she was. An +odd, morbid obsession began to overpower her, as, directly she +was alone, it had shown an uncomfortable aptitude to do of late. +Putting her hands up to her eyes she rubbed them with her palms, +as if she were endeavouring to rub something away from them. +Then, removing her hands again, she looked about her, queerly. + +"Of course it's ridiculous, and I suppose the real explanation +is that I'm not so well as I ought to be; but it's funny how I'm +always seeming to be back in his room, and how plainly I can see +it all; and the bed--the bed." There was a rigid expression on +her face which it was not agreeable to observe, as she herself +seemed to understand. Standing up she gave herself a little +shake, as if she were trying to shake something from off her. +"This won't do--it won't do. It's not healthy. And yet there's +something which I ought to look at--to see; to understand. It's +something in the room. It's not the bed--not only the bed; it's +something else. I wish I could think what it was; I wish I could +understand; then perhaps it might go." + +The overturned decanter which had been on the buhl table in the +morning was still there. She picked it up, holding it up to the +light. It was empty. She went to what seemed to be a buhl +liqueur case which stood on the floor in a corner. It was +locked. She went to her bedroom to look for the key. It was not +in its usual place. + +"I can't think where I put it; those brutes can't have had it. I +had it myself last night, I know. Where did I put it? I can't +wait to think--I can't wait; besides it doesn't matter. Anything +will do to open it." + +She took a polished brass poker. With it she made a hole in the +lid of the case large enough to enable her to insert her +fingers. Then, with her hands, she tore the lid away--a +sufficiently easy task, since the wood proved to be less than an +eighth of an inch in thickness. The case contained six bottles. +She took out one; it was labelled "Pure Ether--Poison". +Withdrawing the stopper, paying no attention to the statement on +the label, she poured out nearly a wineglassful, which she +instantly swallowed, coupling with it, as it were, a somewhat +gruesome sentiment. "Here's to Isaac Luker! I wish he was in +reach; I'd like to kill him." + +Scarcely were the words out of her lips than the door opened to +admit her husband. He stared at her. + +"Belle, there doesn't seem to be a servant in the place--not a +creature. Where are they all off to? What's it mean?" + +She replied to his question with another. + +"Gregory, doesn't there seem to you to be something singular +about this bedroom?" + +"Bedroom? It's not a bedroom; it's a boudoir. What do you mean? +Belle, what's the matter with the house? What have you got in +your hand? What are you drinking?" + +Mrs. Lamb was looking round her in a fashion which induced her +husband to draw back, as if in doubt. + +"Have you ever seen it before--anywhere? Isn't there something +strange about it?--especially the bed?" + +Mr. Lamb seemed to be of opinion that his wife's manner was +distinctly disagreeable; apparently he did not know what to make +of it. + +"Bed?--what bed? There's no bed here. You're--you're not well. +Don't talk like that; you make me go all over creeps. I say, +Belle, I do wish you'd give me some coin--if it's only a tenner. +I'm broke to the wide." + +"Gregory!" + +"Well?" + +"Come here; I want to speak to you." + +"Thank you, I'm awfully sorry, but I've got an appointment with +a man; I can't stop. About that money--Belle! now, what's up?" + +With a swift, unexpected movement, interposing herself between +him and the door, his wife had slipped her arm through his, and +was looking at him with something in her big black eyes which +made him more uncomfortable than he would have cared to admit. +Considering the bold, ringing, almost blusterous tones in which +she was wont to speak, there was something unpleasantly +significant in the half-whisper in which she addressed him now. + +"Gregory, you must stop--you mustn't go. There's something which +I wish to say to you--a great deal which I wish to say to you, +and I must say it to you now--here"--her voice sank still +lower--"in Cuthbert Grahame's bedroom." + + + + + CHAPTER XXVIII + + MR. LAMB IN A COMMUNICATIVE MOOD + + +In the evening of that day Margaret Wallace and Harry Talfourd +dined with Dr. Twelves. The young lady, who throughout the day +had remained in a curious mood, was indisposed to avail herself +of the doctor's hospitality; but she was over-persuaded by the +doctor, who was insistent, and by Mr. Talfourd, who was on his +side. Throughout the day they had talked and talked and talked. +Harry was of opinion that, on a certain theme, they had talked +too much. There was something about Margaret which was new to +him; which he did not understand. It troubled him. So when the +doctor changed the subject by asking them to dine with him he +accepted, for himself, at once; and when Margaret hummed and +hawed, and began to make excuses, for her also. He told her that +she would have to dine with the doctor--and she had to. The two +men bore her off with them in triumph. + +The doctor entertained his guests at the Holborn Restaurant. In +his youth he had known the place when it was a dancing-hall; had +visited it while undergoing various transformations during his +recurrent trips to town, and, whenever he came to London, made a +point of patronising it still. The meal was hardly a jovial one. +The host and Harry did all they could to keep the conversation +on impersonal and frivolous lines, but Margaret would have none +of it. She could scarcely be induced to open her lips to put +food between them; talk she would not. The colloquial gifts for +which she was famous seemed to have deserted her entirely; she +was tongue-tied. When, in a dinner party of three, the lady, who +is both young and charming, cannot be persuaded to speak, the +meal is apt to prove but a qualified success. The doctor's +little festive gathering turned out to be not quite so festive +as it might have been. + +As chance, or fate, had it, the two men's well-meant efforts to +keep the conversation in exhilarating channels were doomed to +meet with complete fiasco. After the meal was finished, as they +strolled along Holborn, enjoying the fine evening, considering +whether to take a cab, and if so, where to tell the cabman to +take them to--for the doctor was firm in his conviction that +this was an occasion on which they were bound to make a night of +it--the issue was taken out of their hands in a wholly +unexpected fashion. A gentleman, who did not seem to be so +capable of seeing where he was going as he ought to have been, +all but cannoned against Mr. Talfourd, drawing back to apologise +just in time. + +"Beg pardon! Why, it's Talfourd! Hollo, Talfourd! who's the +lady? and who's----" The speaker was staring at the doctor. +"Hollo! I've seen you somewhere before!" + +The doctor was returning him look for look. + +"And I've seen you. You're Mr. Gregory Lamb, who lodged one +time at David Blair's over the other side of Pitmuir, to +whom I was foolish enough to loan a brace of sovereigns, for +four-and-twenty hours, as I understood, but which you've never +paid me back unto this day." + +Mr. Lamb was not at all abashed; he never was by reminders of +that kind--they were legion. + +"Why, of course, it's the doctor--the cranky old doctor. I +remember you quite well. How are you, old chap? You haven't--you +haven't a brace of sovereigns on you now?" + +"I have not a brace which you are likely to be able to bag, Mr. +Lamb. I understand that you have married since I saw you last." + +"Since you saw me! I was married then." + +"Indeed? But I gathered that you had since married the widow of +an old friend of mine--Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame." + +"Widow? She wasn't his widow; she never was his wife." + +"Pardon me, but she went through the Scotch form of marriage +with him in my presence." + +"That was all her dashed impudence. She was my wife long before +that; before she ever knew that he was in the world. Doctor, my +wife's a devil of a woman, and she's been treating me in a devil +of a way. If I were to tell you all that she's been doing, so +far as I can understand, mind you--it's quite between +ourselves--you'd go straight to a police station, and you'd +ask for a warrant; but I'm her husband, so I can't. Listen to +me--this is between ourselves--if you'll come to a place I know, +and where they know me--most respectable place--and do me the +pleasure of having a drink with me--and Talfourd, and the +lady--never leave out a lady when it's a question of a little +refreshment--I'll tell you what she's just been telling me, not +five minutes ago. It'll surprise you. Good as confessed to +committing murder; half expected her to murder me--give you my +word it's a fact. Come and have a little something and I'll tell +you all about it--between ourselves, you know." + +The doctor exchanged glances with Mr. Talfourd and with +Margaret. + +"It seems to me, Mr. Lamb, that you've had more than a little +something already." + +"You're wrong, old chap--quite wrong; do assure you. It's +ether--beastly ether." + +"Ether?" + +"Ever heard of the stuff before? I never did. Seems she lives +on it; takes it in quarts. She crammed some of it down my +throat--fairly took me by the throat and crammed it down. I'm +like a child in her hands--give you my word. She's a devil of a +woman. Never tasted anything like it before; seems to have sent +me stark staring mad. Don't know whether I'm standing on my head +or heels. Let's go and have some Christian liquor, and I'll tell +you all about it." + +Again the doctor exchanged glances with his companions. + +"If you'll allow me to offer you a seat in my cab I'll take you +to a friend who'll be able to give you some of the finest whisky +in England, and there, at your leisure, you can tell us all +about it." + +"My dear old chap, when they called you cranky I always said +that there was more in you than they might think, and I stand to +it to the present moment. I say----" + +The doctor did not wait to hear what he said; he bundled him +into a four-wheeled cab after Margaret and Harry. When the cab +had started Margaret asked-- + +"Where are you taking us?" + +"I am taking you to my friend, Andrew McTavish, who has a +commodious residence in Mecklenburg Square--just handy. There, +over a glass of whisky, Mr. Lamb will be able to tell us just +what his wife told him. He'll find us interested listeners." + +There was a dryness in the doctor's tone which was lost upon the +gentleman at his side, who occupied the short distance they had +to traverse by protestations of the regard he had always felt +for the old acquaintance whom fortune, or destiny, had again +thrown across his path. + +That night Mr. Brown was his partner's guest at dinner. Both +gentlemen were still smarting from the outrage to which Mrs. +Gregory Lamb had subjected them that afternoon. Dinner was +finished; they were in the library, planning schemes of +vengeance, when the servant announced that Dr. Twelves was +outside, and was desirous of seeing Mr. McTavish. Before the +servant was able to explain that the visitor was not alone, the +doctor himself marched in with his retinue. The partners rose +from their chairs in surprise. + +"McTavish--Brown--I have the honour to introduce you to Miss +Margaret Wallace, a young lady of whom you have heard a good +deal, and whom I am sure you'll be delighted to know. This is +Mr. Harry Talfourd, of whom you may have also heard something. +And this, gentlemen--this is Mr. Gregory Lamb, the husband of +the lady of whom, I fancy, you have perhaps heard rather too +much." + +If the look upon the partners' faces meant anything, there could +be no doubt upon the latter point. Both Mr. McTavish and Mr. +Brown stared at Mr. Lamb as if he were not only the strangest, +but also the most unwelcome, object they had ever beheld. Then +Mr. McTavish turned to the doctor, with a gasp. + +"I'd have you to know, Dr. Twelves, that you're taking a great +liberty. You're presuming on our friendship in venturing to +bring this individual to my house, and at this time of night. +Brown, I'll trouble you to ring the bell. Mr. Lamb shall be +shown to the door, before we have him behaving as his wife did +this afternoon." + +Mr. McTavish had become rubicund with agitation; the doctor +remained placid. + +"In less than five minutes, Andrew, you'll be acknowledging that +I've done you a very considerable service in bringing Mr. Lamb +to this house, and you'll be begging my pardon for the remarks +which you have just made." + +Mr. Brown, obedient to his partner's request, had rung the bell. +A servant appeared. Him Dr. Twelves addressed before Mr. +McTavish had a chance of speaking. + +"You'll have the goodness to bring a decanter of whisky, and the +other necessaries, at once." + +When the man looked at his master for an endorsement of this +order the doctor explained. + +"Andrew, Mr. Lamb has a communication to make which I think you +will find of interest; he proposes to make it while enjoying a +glass of prime whisky." + +"I cannot imagine what Mr. Lamb has to say which can be of +interest to me, but, since you wish it--John, bring the whisky." + +A decanter being placed upon a table, the doctor prepared a +potent mixture which he handed to Mr. Lamb. + +"I think, Mr. Lamb, I understood you to say that Mrs. Lamb was +married to you before she met Cuthbert Grahame?" + +"Of course she was--ever so long. She was never his wife; that +was only her bluff. This is something like whisky. Gentlemen, +your very good health, and the lady's--never overlook a lady." + +"You perceive, Andrew, that Mrs. Lamb was already Mrs. Lamb when +she encountered your late client, Mr. Cuthbert Grahame, and, +therefore, any document in which she is described as his wife +is, I believe, on the face of it, null and void." + +Mr. McTavish made as if about to speak, but a movement of the +doctor's left eyelid seemed to act as a check. The doctor turned +to Mr. Lamb, grimly affable. + +"You like this whisky, Mr. Lamb?" Judging from the fact that +that gentleman had already emptied his tumbler it seemed as if +he did. "Allow me to fill your glass." The speaker suited the +action to the word; he did very nearly fill the glass with neat +spirit. "From what you said I should imagine that you have +recently had rather a singular scene with your wife, Mr. Lamb. +You were about to tell us what occurred. Was it anything very +remarkable?" + +"I should think it was remarkable. Your very good health, +gentlemen. After the stuff she forced down my throat this is +something like whisky; ether she forced down my throat--rank +poison. Why, do you know she sees things--actually sees +things--give you my word--makes your blood cold to hear her +talking. She made out we were in a bedroom--Cuthbert Grahame's +bedroom she called it; it was only the boudoir. She talked +about the things which were in it just as if they were in it, +when of course they were nothing of the kind--just the ordinary +furniture! 'You see that bed?' she said. Of course I didn't; +there wasn't a bed to see; not even the ghost of a bed. 'That's +Cuthbert Grahame lying in it. You see how he's propped up by +pillows?' The idea of such a thing in a boudoir! 'Now I'm going +to pull away those pillows from under his head.' She actually +pretended to be pulling at pillows, or something--positive fact! +'Now,' she said, 'you see how his head's fallen? You hear what a +noise he makes in trying to breathe? He's choking. I've only got +to leave him like that for a time and he'll be dead. He almost +choked to death when a pillow slipped the other day, so I know.' +Quite serious she was all the time--frightfully serious; made me +all over creeps to hear her--give you my word." + +"Do we understand you to tell us that she said, 'Now I'm going +to pull away those pillows from under his head,' and that then, +in pantomime, she went through the action of pulling them?" + +"Certainly; that's just what she did do--just exactly. Then she +pretended to drop them on to the floor, and talked about the +noise he made in trying to breathe. Awful!--really awful!" + +"Was that all she said? or did?" + +"I should think not; there were all sorts of things; she kept on +for a devil of a time. But I can't remember just what they were +just now--strange how you do forget things. Oh yes! there was +one thing--I remember one thing!--most extraordinary thing. She +said, 'You see that fireplace'. Of course there wasn't a +fireplace; she was standing right back in front of a window. +Absurd! But she saw it--stake my life she saw it--you could +tell. 'There's something about that fireplace which I ought to +see, but I can't think what it is; something which I ought to +understand, but I can't. If I only could!' You never heard +anything like the way she said it; you never heard anything more +impressive on the stage--positive fact! 'You see those two +wooden posts,' she went on. Of course I saw nothing of the kind, +because, as I've told you, there was nothing to see--I don't see +things. 'Those two pillar things, I mean, which have been carved +out of the woodwork of the mantelpiece, one on either side, just +near the bottom. Do you know, Gregory, I believe that there's +something about those two posts which I ought to see, which I +ought to understand! But I can't! I can't!' Give you my word +that she began to cry; twisted her hands together and went on +like anything--actually. Seemed so silly! 'I believe,' she +cried,' that if I could only see, if I could only understand, I +should know where Cuthbert Grahame's money is, that I should +find the quarter of a million which is lost.'" + +As Mr. Lamb gave a dramatic imitation of his wife's manner, +which, considering all the circumstances, was not so bad, +Margaret, who hitherto had remained in the background, came to +the front with a question. + +"Are you sure she said that there was something about those two +posts which--if she saw, if she understood it--would make known +to her where Cuthbert Grahame's money was?" + +Mr. Lamb had something of an aggrieved air as he replied. + +"Am I sure? Of course I'm sure; I shouldn't say she said it if I +wasn't sure. My statements are absolutely to be relied upon, +Miss Whoever-you-are." + +The doctor glanced from Mr. Lamb to Margaret. + +"What's he mean, or what's she mean about two wooden posts? It's +all double Dutch to me; I don't understand in the least. Is it +any plainer to you?" + +"I think that it is all quite plain to me; that I can understand +what she doesn't; that I can see what she can't." Her voice +sank. Although she spoke gently her tones, to adopt Mr. Lamb's +word, were most "impressive". "I believe that, unwittingly, she +has delivered herself into my hands; that the duel which she and +I are fighting has advanced another stage; that soon we shall be +exchanging shots; and that then there will be but one of us two +left to tell how it all fell out." + + + + + CHAPTER XXIX + + MARGARET PAYS A CALL + + +The next morning, between eleven o'clock and noon, Margaret went +out visiting. She had paid much attention to her costume, more +than she was wont to do. Her mind travelled back to the day on +which she had been repulsed from Cuthbert Grahame's door; she +endeavoured to recall what on that occasion she had worn. Women +have a mnemonic system of their own; with them clothes and +events are inseparably associated. They recall one by a +reference to the other. Miss Wallace had no difficulty in +recollecting precisely what garments she had worn; she had even +a fair perception of how she had looked in them. She made it her +immediate purpose to look again as much as possible as she had +looked then. Almost providentially, as it seemed, the dress +itself was still in existence, hidden away at the bottom of a +box. She had never worn it since. First, because, although cheap +enough, it was fashioned of very delicate material, and the hot +water which had been poured upon her had blotched it here and +there with stains which she had found it impossible to attempt +to conceal. Then it was connected with an episode which, +whenever she saw it, would instantly recur. The recurrence +afforded her no pleasure. As, after excavating it, she surveyed +its many creases, she meditated. + +"It almost looks as if, from the first, I had preserved it with +a particular end in view, with the intention of producing it, +when the mathematical moment arrived, as what the French call a +_piece de conviction_. It's ages behind the fashion, but that +will only serve to impress its significance more forcibly on +her." + +She contrived something in the way of head-gear which was +reminiscent of the hat she had worn that day. Her nimble fingers +reproduced the various trifles which in a woman's attire are of +such capital importance; she even dressed her hair in a fashion +which was obsolete. When, fully costumed, she surveyed herself +in a looking-glass, it seemed to her that the results were most +surprising. + +"Wonderful how the modes do change! It is not so many years ago, +and I am sure that then I was up-to-date; but now I look as if I +had come out of the ark; I might be in fancy-dress. I shall have +to take a cab; I should never dare to walk through the streets +like this; they'd take me for a guy. When Mrs. Gregory Lamb sees +me, if she's still in anything like the state of mind which that +charming husband of hers described last night, it won't be +wonderful if she takes me for a ghost." + +She put in a portfolio certain drawings which she had risen at a +very matutinal hour to make; the portfolio she placed beneath +her arm, and, thus equipped, she sallied forth upon her errand. +The street in which she had her lodging being of modest +pretensions, was but little frequented by cabs. She had a five +minutes' walk before she found one. And during that short +promenade she was the object of so much attention, especially +from the females as she passed, that she was glad when, seated +in a hansom, she was at least partially concealed by the +friendly apron. + +She found the door of Mrs. Lamb's residence in Connaught Square +wide open. On the steps stood a shabbily dressed man, with his +hands in his trouser pockets, an ancient bowler pressed tightly +down upon his head, and a clay pipe between his lips. When +Margaret addressed him he moved neither his hat, nor himself, +nor his pipe. + +"Is Mrs. Lamb in?" + +"From what the governor told me I shouldn't be surprised but +what she's gone back to bed." + +Margaret considered the man's words. His manner was not exactly +rude, it was peculiar. + +"Which is her bedroom?" + +"That's more than I can tell you. I ain't been upstairs myself. +I've got a bad leg, and ain't too fond of going up and down +stairs, especially when there ain't no need of it. But you'll +find it somewhere that way, I expect." + +"May I ask who you are?" + +"Me?" Taking his pipe out, the man drew the back of his hand +across his lips. "I'm representing the landlord; that's what I +am." + +"Representing the landlord? Do you mean that you're a bailiff?" + +"A bailiff--that's it! I'm in possession; three quarters' +rent--nearly four. My governor was only just in time. Seems +there's a bill of sale on the furniture. They came up with their +vans as my governor was going over the place; wanted to clear +everything out, they did. Of course my governor soon put a +stopper on that. There was a bit of a talk. I shouldn't be +surprised if they was to pay my governor out. It's a queer +business from what I hear." + +"Please let me pass, I want to see Mrs. Lamb." + +The man drew well back into the house. + +"Certainly; any lady can see Mrs. Lamb for what I care. I expect +you'll find her somewhere about upstairs." + +As she ascended the staircase Miss Wallace indulged in inward +comments. + +"The house looked very different the night before last; nobody +would have guessed then that the shadow of ruin was already +hovering over it. She must be a curious person to give a party +to all that crowd of people when she knew that at any hour the +brokers might be in for rent. And to talk of financing Harry's +play! and paying him three hundred a year for doing nothing! But +then she is a curious person. The house looks as if nothing had +been touched in it since Mrs. Lamb's reception came to a +premature conclusion--it smells like it too. What have we here? +What a state of things!" + +She glanced into the drawing-rooms, which remained in a state of +amazing confusion. Mounting to the floor above she found herself +confronted by two closed doors. + +"I wonder if one of these is her bedroom. I'll try this." + +She turned the handle of the door which was directly in front of +her, softly, and walked right in. It was the lady's bedroom, and +the lady was in bed. Margaret had entered so quietly that +apparently not the slightest sound had informed the mistress of +the house that any one was there. The girl stood still. + +"Pah! what an atmosphere! I'd sooner have every pane of glass +broken than breathe air like this. I shouldn't think the windows +have been open for days." She glanced at the bed. "Is she +asleep?--at this hour?--with the broker's man downstairs?" + +Laying her portfolio on a small table, she moved closer to the +bed. Its occupant continued motionless. The girl, leaning +forward, touched her, lightly, on the shoulder. Still no sign of +life. The girl exchanged the light touch for a sudden, vigorous +grip, giving the shoulder a wrench which must have roused the +soundest sleeper. The woman started up in bed. + +"Luker! is that you?" she cried. + +When freshly roused from slumber, she saw who it was; her first +impression seemed to be that she was still the victim of some +haunting dream. Speechless, she stared at the girl, drawing +farther and farther back the longer she stared. Her whole +frame--her pose, her limbs, the muscles of her face--seemed to +become rigid, set, as if she were afflicted by some new and +awful form of tetanus. She appeared to be incapable of twitching +a lip or of moving an eyelid. Even when Margaret spoke she +persisted in her fixed and dreadful glare, as if she were some +unpleasant statue. + +"I am Margaret Wallace--as you are aware. I am she whom you +drove from Cuthbert Grahame's door, pretending you were Nannie +Foreshaw. These are the clothes I was wearing when you drove me +away with lies and with hot water. See--here are the stains of +that hot water still. Your sin has found you out; judgment is +pronounced; your punishment has already begun. Between you and +me it is a duel to the death. It is your choice, not mine, but +since you have forced it on me, I will fight you to the end, and +I shall win. I know all about you--who you are, what you've +done. I know that you were already a wife when you pretended to +marry Cuthbert Grahame; that you committed bigamy. I know that +you got that will from him by means of a trick. I know that so +soon as you had got it you murdered him. You snatched the +pillows from under his head--see! like that!" She caught up the +two pillows which lay upon the bolster and dropped them on the +floor. "Can't you hear the noise he makes in trying to breathe? +He's choking. You've only to leave him like that for a little +while, and he'll be dead. And you left him! I know--I know." + +The woman listened to the hot, eager words which streamed from +the girl's lips as if the speaker were some supernatural +visitor, and the accusations were being hurled at her from on +high; and still she never moved a muscle, she even seemed to +cease to breathe. + +"You see!--we are in Cuthbert Grahame's bedroom, you and I. I +know it as well as you do--better--and you know it very well. +You'll never forget it--never!--to the last moment of your life. +There is the mantelpiece; it is made of wood--carved wood. It is +old; old as the house itself; beautifully carved. You see there +are two wooden pillars, one on either side, carved so that they +stand out. You are quite right in supposing that there is +something about them which you ought to see, to understand. I +have come to tell you--to show you--what it is." + +Taking from her portfolio two drawings she held first one and +then the other in front of the motionless woman. + +"I have made a drawing of the mantelpiece, just as you see it, +and as I see it, and as it is. Is it not like it? Here are the +two side-posts; but here"--exchanging one drawing for the +other--"is only one of them. That is a picture of the pillar +which is on the left-hand side of the mantelpiece as you stand +in front of it--you will remember, on the left-hand side. I have +written down an exact description of it in case you should +forget, because there is only one thing which you will never +forget, and that is on the bed. Look closely at the drawing; it +represents the pillar exactly. This long, slender part, which +runs from here to here, is called the shaft. You hold it with +both hands, or, as you are very strong, you will perhaps be +able to manage with one, and you turn it right round in its +socket--completely round. It will probably be a little stiff, as +it has not been touched for so long; but you'll find that you'll +be able to make it move. This narrow piece at the top is called +the neck. After you have turned the column you pull it to the +left. It slides in two grooves. It may be a little stiff, like +the column, but if you push, or pull, hard enough, and long +enough, it will yield. This still narrower piece near the foot +of the column, just above the plinth--the plinth in the bottom +of a column is called the _torus_, or the _tore_ (_torus_ +is a Latin word which architects use, and it just means +swelling)--when you have turned the pillar, and slipped the +neck, you get as firm a grip on the top of the torus as you can, +give a smart jerk, and it will fall over on a hinge. Have you +ever read _The Arabian Nights?_ You don't look as if you had +read anything. If you haven't, you never will; you'll never have +a chance. But I suppose you've heard of Ali Baba and the Forty +Thieves; the cave in which they kept their treasure; the +password, 'Open Sesame,' which caused the cave to open. All +these man[oe]uvres of which I have been telling you--turning the +shaft, sliding the neck, pulling forward the torus--are the +'Open Sesame' which will lead you to the place where the +treasure is--greater treasure than was in the cave of the forty +thieves. These performances which you will have gone through +will have unlocked, unbolted and unbarred. All that remains is +that you slide that whole side of the mantelpiece to the left. +You'll have no difficulty. Behind you'll discover a cupboard, +deep though narrow, going far back into the wall, with shelves +laden with treasures. On those shelves is the quarter of a +million of money--I daresay more--which once was Cuthbert +Grahame's, waiting for some one to carry it away! Here are the +two drawings which are the key to the riddle. I present them to +you freely. They were made specially for you. Although the +broker's man is in for rent, and the bill of sale men clamour at +the door, and you are penniless, and ruin stares you in the +face--ruin utter and complete--though your need of it's so +great, you'll not get that money which is hidden in the +mantelpiece--you'll not dare! you'll not dare! Because the bed +still stands in the room--you can see it now!--the bed on which +you murdered Cuthbert Grahame; and Cuthbert Grahame still lies +on it--you can see him too!--waiting and watching for you to +return to where you threw the pillows on the floor--waiting and +watching for you. You'll not dare go back into that room again, +because in it the dead hand is waiting to grip you by the +throat. And after to-morrow it will be too late--Cuthbert +Grahame's money will be there no longer. Here are the drawings. +I will leave them with you, as I said. You will be able to study +them at your leisure, conscious of who is looking over your +shoulder." + +Margaret laid the drawings on the coverlet. With her portfolio +again beneath her arm she quitted the room, as noiselessly as +she had entered. All the time Mrs. Gregory Lamb had not moved or +spoken a word. + + + + + CHAPTER XXX + + MRS. LAMB IN SEARCH OF ADVICE + + +On the evening of that same day, at the door of Mr. Isaac +Luker's little house in that _cul-de-sac_ near Stamford Street, +some one knocked, in a rather unusual manner, as if after a +prescribed fashion, then whistled half-a-dozen sharp, shrill +notes up the scale. This performance was repeated thrice before +anything happened to show that it had attracted attention +within. Then a window was opened above; the solicitor's head +came out. + +"Who's there?" + +A feminine voice replied-- + +"It's me--Isabel. I want to speak to you. Don't keep me waiting +out here. Come down! let me in at once." + +There was a brief pause before the answer came, as if the man of +law was endeavouring to see as much of his visitor as he could. + +"Not much--I won't have you in this house; don't you think it; +I'm not a fool. If you won't go without a fuss I'll soon get +those who'll shift you." + +"You are a fool. I don't want money from you, or anything of +that kind. I want to tell you something--that's all." + +"Then tell it me from where you are; I'm listening." + +Mrs. Lamb's voice dropped, so that her words were only just +audible to the man above. + +"Cuthbert Grahame's money's found." + +Another pause, possibly of doubt. + +"Is that a lie?" + +"I'll swear it isn't; it's as true as I stand here." + +"Where is it?" + +"It's in his house" + +"His house? What house? I didn't know he'd got a house." + +"His house at Pitmuir--where I met him--where he died." + +"How do you know it's there?" + +"I'll tell you all about it if you'll let me in." + +"You'll tell me before I let you in." + +"Margaret Wallace--that girl--you know--she came this morning +and told me it was there." + +"I don't believe it. Why should she, of all people, come and +tell you a thing like that? Tell that for a tale." + +"She did; I swear she did. The money's there--I know just +where--a quarter of a million at least." + +"A quarter of a million?" + +"At least! If I was there I'd have it in my hands inside two +minutes. I'm as sure of it as I am that I'm alive. Don't be +silly; let me in, and let's talk where we can be alone. I'm on +the square--I swear it. I don't want anything from you; I just +want your advice--that's all." + +There was another pause. + +"Mrs. Lamb, I've got a telephone installed in these premises. +I'm going to telephone to a friend that you're here; I'm going +to ask him to step round in a few minutes. If, when he comes, +you've been making trouble, there'll be trouble for you--you'll +be the sorriest woman that ever lived. I give you my word; when +I give you my word on a point like that you know it goes. You +wait there until I'm ready." + +The head was withdrawn; the window closed; the lady waited, +impatiently enough. Her patience was sufficiently tried. It +seemed to her that she waited an hour; she certainly did wait +twenty minutes. More than once she was on the point of sounding +a loud rat-a-tat on the knocker by way of a little reminder. It +was only with an effort she restrained herself, being conscious +that possibly Mr. Luker's decision still hung in the balance, +and that it needed but little to turn the balance against her. +She had just arrived at a final conclusion that he had played +her false, or, at any rate, intended to ignore her existence, +when the door was opened, on the chain. + +"I've telephoned to my friend; he's coming; so, if you're in an +argumentative frame of mind, you'd better take my strong advice +and stay outside. No argument will be allowed in here." + +It seemed to Mrs. Lamb that the wary Mr. Luker was carrying his +wariness almost a trifle too far. She was unable to altogether +conceal that this was her feeling. + +"Bless the man! I don't want to argue! I just want to explain +exactly how the matter stands. When you've opened that door +you'll find that I mean just what I say, neither more nor less." + +"My friend, when he arrives, will see that you don't mean more; +you can take my word for that. Come inside!" + +Mr. Luker removed the chain; the lady entered; he led the way to +a room on the ground floor at the back. It was much better +furnished than the exterior of the house, and its occupant's +appearance, might have led one to expect. A telephone, on its +bracket against the wall, was one of the most prominent objects +the room contained. Mr. Luker called her attention to its +presence. + +"You see? I'm not so much alone here as you might think; I'm in +constant communication with my friend; and as he'll be here very +shortly, perhaps you'll say what you have to say as quickly as +you can." + +"It'd have been said already, if you hadn't kept me cooling my +heels outside while you were playing the fool in here with your +telephone." + +As clearly and succinctly as possible--she could keep to the +point when she liked--Mrs. Lamb told her tale, exhibiting +Margaret's drawings, partly by way of corroboration and partly +to elucidate certain points which needed explanation. + +"And you believe it?" + +"Believe that the money's inside that mantelpiece? I'm as +certain of it as I am that I see you." + +"What makes you so sure?" + +"His will was hidden in one corner of the room. All along I've +felt sure that there were more hiding-places in it than one. I +shouldn't be surprised if there were half a dozen. It's just the +kind of room, and he's just the kind of man. As for the +mantelpiece, I've been bothered all along by a feeling that +there was something about it which I ought to understand, and +didn't. Now I know what it is. Cuthbert Grahame's money's there +as certainly as you are here. I tell you he was just the sort of +curiosity--he wasn't a man when I knew him!--who might be +expected to play a trick like that." + +"But why should the girl come and tell you the tale when it was +to her advantage to keep it dark--especially from you?" + +"That's more than I can say. I know she's a white-faced little +devil, and that I hate her. I lay she didn't do it out of any +love for me." + +"That, I think, we may take for granted--which makes the puzzle +more. It looks to me as if she expects you to walk headlong into +a trap which she has carefully baited." + +"Curse her traps! What do I care for her traps? She can't set +one which will catch me. The money's there, and the money's +mine--and I'll get it." + +"Then get it. It will be useful to you just now, even if there's +less than a quarter of a million." + +"Useful!--my God!--useful!" Stretching out her arms on +either side, she drew a long breath. "But, Luker--that's the +mischief!--it's in his room; the one in which he died." + +"Well; you've told me that already--what of it?" + +"What of it? Why!"--she laughed; there was something in the +sound of her laughter which caused him to bunch himself +together, as if touched by a sudden chill--"I daren't go in it." + +"You daren't go in it? What do you mean? The house is your own, +isn't it? What's there to be afraid of? Who's to keep you out?" + +"That's it!--I don't know! I don't know! Luker, there's +something come over me lately; I didn't used to be troubled with +nerves." + +"You didn't." + +"I never was afraid of anything--or any one." + +"You weren't; you've always had the devil's own courage since +you were a girl." + +"There's been nothing I daren't do." + +"It would have been better for you, perhaps, if there had been +something; there's such a thing as daring to do too much." + +"You think so? Perhaps that's it; perhaps I have dared to do too +much." + +"As to that you know better than I do; I'm not your father +confessor, nor wish to be. The Lord forbid!" + +"I don't know how it is, but, lately, I've gone all to pieces. +I'm afraid of all sorts of things. When that girl came this +morning I was afraid of her; she frightened me out of my senses. +I thought she was a ghost; I couldn't have moved or spoken to +save my life; I listened to her like a stuck pig. Luker, things +have upset me more than I thought anything could have done. +I'm--I'm all a bundle of nerves." + +"It's that stuff you've been drinking." + +"Stuff? What stuff?" + +"When I was at your place yesterday I saw a decanter lying on +the table; some of the contents had been spilled. I dipped my +finger into the stuff and tasted it. It was ether. When women of +your temperament take to drinking ether, that's an end of them." + +"But I've got to drink it!--I've got to! I never touch it unless +I'm forced! Luker, if I didn't, sometimes, I should go stark, +staring mad." + +"Then you'll go stark, staring mad. Ether's a royal road to +madness for such as you. Better stick to gin." + +"Gin!--gin's no good; a barrelful would be no good when I'm like +that." + +"I see--that's the point you've got to." He was eyeing her +intently. "Is there any particular reason why you should be +afraid of going into the room where that man died?" + +She became instantly conscious of the keenness of his scrutiny, +perceiving that in it there was a new quality. Her manner +changed. + +"Any particular reason? No; there's only the general reason that +I'm all mops and brooms; that I start at shadows. Besides, I'm +going into it, and you're going with me." + +"Am I? That's news." + +"Luker, if you'll come with me to Pitmuir, and stick to me while +I find Cuthbert Grahame's money, I'll give you five hundred +pounds." + +"Hard cash?--before we start?" + +"I can't do that; you know I can't do that. But, Luker, I'll +give you a thousand when I've found the money. I'll set down my +promise in writing; give you any sort of undertaking you like." + +"Yes; but suppose you don't find the money; suppose what that +girl told you is nothing but a cock-and-bull story? I tell you +plainly that I can't make head or tail of the whole business. +I've no faith in the girl, or her story, or her motives. And I'm +pretty sure that she has no intention, under any circumstances +or on any conditions, of presenting you with Cuthbert Grahame's +fortune, or of putting you in the way of getting it for yourself +either." + +"But I know it's there. I can't explain to you how I know it--I +don't understand myself--but I do. And though it seems queer, at +the back of my head I've known it all the time. Luker, as sure +as you are living, that money's there." + +"Then, in that case, instead of going yourself, why not instruct +some one on the spot to examine the premises on your behalf; to +pull down this famous mantelpiece, or the whole house if +necessary, and report the results to you?" + +"Who shall I instruct? Before they move they'll perhaps want +money--I expect my position is pretty generally known--and where +am I to find it? In any case, they'll take their own time, and +time is precious. Besides, there are enough fingers meddling in +my affairs already. And who am I to trust? I don't want any one +except myself to know how much I find. To speak of nothing else, +shouldn't I have to pay succession duty if it were known?" + +"I suppose you would. Isabel, you're a curious person; a little +too fond, perhaps, of doing things for yourself; yet, in +delicate matters--in very delicate matters--it's a fault on the +right side. How do you know you can trust me?" + +"You and I have seen too much of each other for me not to know +when, and where, and how far I can trust you. I'm not afraid." + +"You're right; you needn't be. I don't think I am likely to +round on you. But, on the other hand, frankly, I'm afraid of +you." + +"Nor need you be afraid of me. It's only when I'm upset +that--that I'm trying--that's all." + +"Even if it is all, it's a pretty big all." + +"About the thousand pounds. As I said, I'll give you any sort of +bond you like, undertaking, if you stick to me, to pay you the +moment I get the money in my hands. Anyhow you know that you'll +be safe. It's not bad pay for what I'm asking you to do." + +"I don't say it is. When do you propose to start?" + +"To-morrow morning, by the ten o'clock train from King's Cross. +I planned it all out before I came." + +"That's quick work." + +"It'll have to be quick work. If I don't have money, and plenty +of it, within forty-eight hours, I'm undone." + +"I understand. By the way, I presume that you're prepared to pay +all out-of-pocket expenses, for both parties, as we go on. For +instance, I shall require you to hand me a return ticket to +wherever we are going before I set foot inside the train. I'm a +poor man, although you sometimes amuse yourself by pretending to +think otherwise, and I, at any rate, can afford to take no +risks." + +"You shall have your ticket, and I'll pay everything. I've the +money to do it--but it's about as much as I have got." + +"Ah, but by to-morrow, about this time, you'll be more than a +millionaire. I've always understood that that wonderful quarter +of a million of Mr. Grahame's produced, on an average, more than +twenty per cent.; so that if you had a million, averaging a +modest three per cent.--and some millionaires would be glad to +get as much--your income would be less. Then there are the +arrears, which have been accruing! Think of the arrears, Mrs. +Lamb--on a quarter of a million, at twenty per cent.! Now if you +will sit down here, and will give me, on this sheet of paper, +that little undertaking you mentioned, I think that, on my part, +I can undertake to accompany you on your little trip to the +north." + + + + + CHAPTER XXXI + + MRS. LAMB RETURNS TO PITMUIR + + +When Mr. Isaac Luker and his client, Mrs. Gregory Lamb, arrived +at the small roadside station, in the county of Forfar, towards +which they had been journeying throughout the day, they were +neither of them in the best of tempers. It had been a long day's +journey. There had been some misunderstanding about the +connection of the trains at Dundee. They had missed the one by +which they had meant to travel; there had been a dreary wait for +the next. When at last they started on the last stage of their +journey the engine went dawdling along the branch line in a +style which both, in their then frame of mind, found equally +trying. They would hardly, at any time, have been called a +sympathetic couple. Neither, for instance, would have selected +the other as an only companion on a desert island. By the time +the train paused for, so far as they were concerned, its final +stoppage, either would have been almost willing to fly to a +desert island to escape the other's society. + +It was between nine and ten at night--a misty night. The damp +seemed to be rising out of the ground, and to be covering the +country with a corpse-like pallor. There was a faint movement in +the air, which it did not need a very imaginative mind to +compare to a whisper of death. They were the only passengers who +alighted at the station, which seemed to consist of but a narrow +strip of bare earth, about the centre of which was constructed +what looked like a ramshackle shed. Illumination was given by +two or three oil lamps, and by a lantern which the only visible +official carried in his hand. To this personage Mrs. Lamb +addressed herself. + +"Is any one waiting for me?" + +The official proved to be a Scotsman of a peculiarly Scotch +type; his manners and his temper were both his own. No attempt +is made to reproduce the dialect in which he spoke. + +"And who might you happen to be?" + +"I'm Mrs. Gregory Lamb." + +"Never heard the name. Pass out! Tickets!" + +Mr. Luker nudged the lady's arm. + +"I thought you telegraphed under the name of Mrs. Cuthbert +Grahame?" + +She made a somewhat ill-considered attempt to correct the error +she had made. + +"I mean that I'm Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame." + +"Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame? You said just now that you were Mrs. +Gregory Lamb." + +"I spoke without thinking. I telegraphed some instructions to +the station-master in the name of Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame." + +"In the name of Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame? A body can't have two +names." + +"I ordered a close carriage to meet Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame by the +train before this, then, when I found I'd missed it, I sent a +wire from Dundee to order the carriage to wait for the next." + +"There's no carriage within miles." + +"No carriage? Then what is there?" + +"There's what they call a fly." + +"And is the fly here?" + +"Sam Harris wouldn't let it come." + +"Who's Sam Harris?" + +"He's the man that owns it." + +"And pray why wouldn't Mr. Harris let it come?" + +"You'd better be asking him instead of me. He lives about two +miles from here--perhaps a trifle over." + +"Two miles! Then is there nothing here to meet us?" + +"There's a cart." + +"A cart!--an open cart!--in this weather! What kind of cart?" + +"He was outside the gate when I saw him last, but maybe by now +he's grown tired of waiting, and he's gone. If you go outside +you'll be able to see for yourself what kind of cart it is +better than I can tell you. Any way, you can't stop here; I'm +off home. Tickets!--and if you haven't your tickets you'll have +to pay your fare--that's all." + +The two passengers surrendered their tickets. With such dignity +as she could muster the lady strode towards the little wooden +gate, Mr. Luker following limply behind. He made no attempt to +feign a sense of dignity which he did not possess. To judge from +his appearance and his attitude he had not only sunk into the +lowest stage of depression, but he was willing that all the +world should know it. A very woebegone figure he looked: so tall +and so thin, with the pronounced stoop; in the old familiar +garments which he had worn for so many years in town, a costume +which seemed singularly out of place on that spot just then; the +frayed, shabby frock-coat, tightly buttoned up the front, the +collar of which he now wore turned up about his chin; the +trousers which were at once too baggy and too short; the ancient +top-hat, which had seen so many better days. + +Outside the gate was what, in the semi-darkness, looked +uncommonly like an ordinary farmer's cart, and not too +comfortable, or cleanly, an example of its class. Mrs. Lamb +stared at it in disgust. + +"Have you brought that thing for me?" + +As regards manners the driver seemed to be a near relation of +the railway official's, if anything his were more pronounced. + +"I don't know who you are. How am I to know?" + +"I'm Mrs. Cuthbert Grahame of Pitmuir." + +"Oh; that's what you call yourself--ah!" + +"You appear to be an impudent fellow." + +"And you appear to be a free-spoken woman." + +"How dare you talk to me like that? I ask you again, have you +brought this thing for me?" + +"I've brought this thing, as you call it, which is as decent a +cart as ever you saw, and more decent maybe than you deserve to +sit in, to carry the person as calls herself Mrs. Cuthbert +Grahame to Pitmuir, and I'm beginning to wish I hadn't." + +"Why is there no fly here?" + +"Because Sam Harris wouldn't let his come." + +"Why not? I ordered it." + +"You ordered it! Mr. Harris said that he wasn't going to have +the likes of you sitting in a fly of his--that's why. So he sent +this cart instead. If this cart isn't good enough, I'll take it +back at once. I'll take it back anyhow if there's much more +talking." + +The lady and her solicitor exchanged glances. While they were +apparently seeking for words the driver volunteered another +remark, in keeping with those which had gone before. + +"There's another thing. I'm to be paid before I started; Mr. +Harris said I was." + +"You'll be paid when you reach Pitmuir." + +"Shall I? Then I'll say good-night." + +The man gathered up his reins as if about to depart. + +"Stop! What are you doing? You appear to be a pleasant +character." + +"From all accounts, ma'am, that's more than can be said of you." + +Under other circumstances the fellow might perhaps have +regretted his temerity. Mrs. Lamb was not a lady to quietly +endure impertinence from any one. As matters stood she was at +his mercy, a fact of which he was evidently aware. She had to +choke back her resentment as best she could. + +"How much do you mean to charge?" + +"There's twelve shillings for driving you; there's three for +waiting; there's five for myself--that's a sovereign." + +"A sovereign!--monstrous!" + +"Very well; there's no call for you to pay it. I tell you again, +I'll say good-night." + +Mr. Luker interposed. + +"How far is it?" + +"Better than five miles." + +"And how long will it take, in this delectable vehicle of yours, +to get us there?" + +"An hour or thereabouts. The road's none so good, and it's not +easy going on a night like this. It's thicker over yonder." + +"And for an hour, or thereabouts, I'm to be jolted, over a bad +road, through this death-like mist. Thank you; the prospect is +not inviting. I think we had better go over in the morning. +Where, in the neighbourhood, can we get a night's lodging?" + +"Nowhere." + +"Nowhere? Are you sure?" + +"If you think you know better than me you'd better go and look +for yourself. I tell you there's not a house round here where +they'd have you under the roof--nor her either. I wouldn't, nor +yet Mr. Harris, nor any one else." + +"This is delightful--thoroughly delightful." + +Anything less suggestive of delight than his tone could hardly +be imagined. The lady spoke. + +"I telegraphed to an old servant of mine, Martha Blair, to go up +to the house and to take some one with her, or if she couldn't +go herself then to get two other girls to go, to light fires and +to make things ready for my coming. Do you know who has gone?" + +"No one's gone; I do know that. You'd get no woman from round +here to go up to Pitmuir at night, especially if it was known +that you were coming." + +"Prospects grow more and more delightful." + +This was a groan from Mr. Luker. The lady, taking him by the +coat sleeve, began to talk to him in an undertone. The driver +promptly interrupted. + +"If you two are going to talk things over between yourselves you +can do it after I'm gone. I'm off; I've had enough of waiting, +so I'll wish you both good-night." + +The lady stopped him; she drew out her purse. + +"Here's a sovereign. Now drive us to Pitmuir, and be as quick as +you can." + +The man examined the coin as well as he could in such a light; +he even tested its quality with his teeth. Drawing a bag from +some mysterious receptacle inside his waistcoat, he untied a +piece of cord which tied it round the neck, placed the coin +carefully within, feeling it to make sure that it was, retied +the bag, and returned it to its place. These operations took +some time; before they were concluded his two passengers were +more tired of waiting than he was. Mrs. Lamb mounted to the seat +beside the driver. Mr. Luker scrambled into the vehicle itself. +There was nothing for him to do but to squat upon the floor, +making himself as comfortable as he could by leaning his back +against the side. Then the cart started. + +The driver had been perfectly correct in stating that it was not +a very good road. So far as could be judged in the mist and the +darkness, when one had to rely entirely on the sense of feeling, +it consisted for the most part of ruts and ditches. The springs +upon which the body of the cart was hung were not very +resilient, indeed they were rudimentary. Mrs. Lamb had all she +could do to keep on the seat; the gentleman behind was shaken in +such a style that he had traversed the whole interior of the +vehicle before he had gone two miles. Considering all things, it +was perhaps as well that the rate of progress was not more +rapid, though the driver had a somewhat disconcerting knack when +the road was excruciatingly bad of seeming to move faster than +was absolutely necessary, and when it was comparatively smooth +of going slower than he need. More than once Mrs. Lamb tried to +engage him in conversation, putting questions to him on subjects +on which she was particularly anxious to obtain information. She +desired to know if Nannie Foreshaw was still in the flesh; how +Dr. Twelves was getting on; if he yet practised, and so on. But +the man either paid no heed at all, or, if he replied, his +answers were of such an unsatisfactory nature, conveying such +extremely unflattering allusions, that the lady was finally +convinced that she had better remain, however unwillingly, in +ignorance than attempt to obtain enlightenment from such an +impossible quarter. She would have liked to have taken the +fellow suddenly by the shoulders and flung him out of the cart. +He would possibly have found her capable of doing it. More than +once she was on the point of making the effort, only an +overwhelming consciousness of the greatness of the issue which +was at stake restrained her. + +At last, after what seemed very much more than an hour's drive, +he brought the vehicle to a sudden stop. + +"You'll get out here," he intimated to them curtly. + +"Get out?" The lady peered about her through the mist and +darkness. "This is not the house." + +"Yon's Pitmuir." + +"Pitmuir? But I paid you to drive us to the house; I can see no +signs of it." + +"You did not. I'd not drive you to the house for a pocketful of +money." + +"What fresh trick are you going to try on now? And what +tomfoolery are you talking?" + +"It's tomfoolery maybe, and maybe it isn't. You said, carry you +to Pitmuir, and I've carried you. Do you know they say that +Cuthbert Grahame's walking about among the trees, waiting in the +avenue, looking for the woman who called herself his wife. Do +you think I'll take you to meet him? Not while I've my senses. +If you are set on meeting him, you'll not meet him in my +company--that's my last word. Yon's Pitmuir. That's the gate in +front, not a dozen yards from where we are--that's nearer than I +care for. You'll just both of you get out." + + + + + CHAPTER XXXII + + AT THE GATE + + +Verbal discussion was plainly useless; it was soon made +sufficiently clear that nothing short of physical force would +persuade that driver. Situated as they were it was not easy to +see how they could resort to that method of convincing him of +the error of his ways. Mrs. Lamb told him, with the lucidity of +which under such circumstances she was past mistress, what she +thought of him, and what treatment she would have accorded him +if the conditions had only been a little different. In a tongue +fight the man proved to be her match; he could pack at least as +many disagreeable allusions into a sentence as she could. For +ten minutes or a quarter of an hour they wrangled, then the +driver delivered himself of an ultimatum. + +"I'm not going to stay here all night listening to you. If you +won't get down I'll drive you back. Now which is it to be? I'm +off!" + +"Off! Yes, you are off, as I'll soon show you." + +She showed him there and then. Whirling round on her seat, she +gave the driver a sudden push; over he went on to the road. +Snatching the reins in one hand, the whip in the other, before +he quite knew what had happened, she was urging the horse to +pursue its onward career. + +"Stop! stop!" he yelled. "I'm under the wheel! You're driving +over me!" + +"Then if you don't want me to drive over you, you'll get from +under the wheel; I'm going on." + +"Are you? I'll teach you, you----!" + +The fellow's language was full-blooded. Scrambling up as best he +could, he made a vigorous attempt to board the vehicle and expel +her from the seat she had usurped. She was not disposed to +yield. Down came the whip upon his head and shoulders. There +ensued a lively few moments. + +"When you two have quite finished your little conversation +perhaps you'll let me know," groaned Mr. Luker from the rear. + +The "little conversation" came to a rapid, and, perhaps on the +whole, not surprising termination. The quadruped between the +shafts, an animal apparently of the cart-horse kind, was, also +apparently, a creature of an extremely patient disposition. But +even the most enduring patience has its limits; that horse +reached the end of his. Mrs. Lamb and the driver were, between +them, tugging at the reins in a fashion to which he was, no +doubt, entirely unaccustomed, while the whip-lash, when it +missed the driver, occasionally alighted on the animal's flanks. +Probably wholly at a loss to understand what was happening, not +unreasonably the creature finally made up his mind that he had +had enough of it, whatever it was. Suddenly the vehicle was set +in motion; both parties persisting in sticking to the reins, and +also, in a sense, to each other, the course steered was of the +most erratic kind. Before the horse had gone very far there was +a lurch which was more ominous than any which had gone before, +and they had been pregnant with meaning; the cart was turned +clean over; the three persons concerned were thrown out of it. +Mr. Luker was the first to give expression to his feelings. +Clinging to the side as the thing went over, he had alighted +with comparative gentleness on the ground. + +"I'm alive," he announced. "I don't know if any one else is." + +It seemed that the lady was in the same, so far as it went, +satisfactory condition. + +"There's not much the matter with me. I'm a bit shaken, and my +clothes are all anyhow; my hat's torn right off my head--but +that doesn't matter." + +"Where's the driver? Driver, where are you?" There was no +answer. "That extremely civil gentleman seems disposed to be a +little more silent than he was just now. Driver!" + +"It'll serve him right if he's killed. Hollo, I've just stepped +on him; he's lying on the road. Driver!" Still no answer. +"Stunned; lost his senses or something--not that he'd many +senses to lose--cantankerous brute!" + +"It's to be hoped that he hasn't lost them for ever, It'll be +awkward for us if he has--especially for you. Your popularity in +this neighbourhood does not appear to be so great that you can +afford to throw any of it away." + +"Confound my popularity! What do I care if I'm popular? If that +brute is killed he brought it on himself; if I'd wrung his neck +for him it'd have been no more than he deserved. I've got a +lantern in my bag. I knew what sort of a hole, and what sort of +beasts, I was coming to, and guessed that I'd better be prepared +for the worst. If it isn't smashed to splinters I'll light it +and have a look at him--you can see nothing in this darkness." + +The lantern was not broken. Presently its rays were illuminating +the surrounding gloom. She turned them on to the recumbent +figure, not showing too much sympathy as she did so. + +"Now then--move yourself! Don't pretend you're dead--I know +better." Possibly by way of exhibiting her superior knowledge, +she shook him by the shoulder. He groaned; she chose to +interpret the sound as having a favourable significance. "He's +not dead; he's all right. Broken a bone, or put his shoulder +out, or something. He won't hurt if we leave him here; we could +do nothing for him if we wanted to. Let's see what's happened to +the cart." + +It was not difficult to do that; the explanation of what had +occurred was almost painfully simple. The horse, influenced by +such eccentric guidance, had conducted the vehicle into a ditch. +The jolt of the sudden descent had loosened one of the wheels; +it lay in one direction, the cart in another. The question as to +whether they were or were not to drive in it up to the house was +finally settled. The horse, seemingly none the worse for his +little experience, making no attempt to get up, reclined at his +ease between the shafts, apparently under the not erroneous +impression that he was as comfortable there as anywhere else. +Mrs. Lamb recognised that, so far as any more riding was +concerned, the fates were against her. + +"We shall have to walk," she observed. "It's not so very far +from here, along the avenue. Here's the gate." + +She went to the gate, revealing its whereabouts by the light of +her lantern. Mr. Luker moving towards her, spoke in lowered +tones. + +"Without wishing to alarm you unnecessarily, or endorsing your +coachman's remarks about Mr. Cuthbert Grahrame's singular +habits, I may tell you that my impression is that if he isn't +walking about among the trees, somebody is." + +"Luker, don't talk like that! Don't be a fool." + +"If I weren't a fool I doubt if I should be here with you now; +but, apart from that, I can only inform you that for some time I +have had a suspicion that our movements were being observed by +some one among the trees, who can see us better than we could +see him, and who was taking a lively interest in all that was +occurring." + +"Luker, how do you know? How could you tell?" + +"By the sense of sound; I wasn't so absorbed in fighting the +driver. That some one, or something, has been moving among the +trees, keeping pace with us as we went, I'll swear, and I don't +think it was an animal." + +"Speak plainly; what do you mean?" + +"I think it possible that you and I are the objects of a +conspiracy--especially you. Every step you take you are walking +farther and farther into the trap which Miss Margaret Wallace +has set for you." + +"Don't talk rubbish! Have you got that old bee in your bonnet +again? I'm not afraid of Miss Margaret Wallace." + +"Aren't you? Then that's all right, because I fancy that her +agents are about you on every side." + +"Her agents? What do you mean by her agents?" + +"I imagine that Miss Margaret Wallace is more popular in this +part of the world than you are. I can put two and two together. +From what I've seen, and heard, since our arrival, I shouldn't +be surprised to learn that she has nobbled every creature in +the neighbourhood. The station-master has received a hint from +her--that explains the peculiarity of his manner; nothing else +could. That poor wretch lying on the ground has been acting on +her instructions. Don't you make any mistake; I'm sure of it. +I'm equally sure that other friends of hers are waiting for you +in there." + +He pointed over the gate, along the avenue. His words, far from +causing her alarm, seemed to act as a fillip. + +"Friends of hers upon my property!--if they dare! Do you +think that I'm afraid of what you call her friends?--of any +number of them?--of the tricks they've set themselves to play? +I'd like to see them; I'd like to meet them. This is my +property--mine!--every stick and stone on it! Neither Margaret +Wallace nor any one else has a right to set foot upon it without +my sanction. If I do find any trespassers I promise you that it +won't be me who'll come off worst. Are you coming? You +understand, if you're to earn that thousand pounds you're to +stick to me through thick and thin--to the end! If you show the +white feather, the bond is cancelled." + +"Are you going to accept the invitation of the spider to the +fly? You intend to walk into the trap?" + +"Trap! Do you think that any trap was ever set that could catch +me? I believe you're talking the purest piffle; but if there is +a trap, and I do walk into it, it'll be to smash it all to +pieces. Once more, are you coming?" + +"Oh, I'm coming. I'll do my best to earn the thousand, though +I'm beginning to perceive that it wants more earning than I +supposed. Lead on; where you lead I'll not only follow, I'll +keep as close to your side as circumstances permit." + +She threw the gate wide open. It swung back on its rusty hinges +with a harsh, creaking sound. Then they entered the avenue, the +lantern swinging in her hand. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIII + + AT THE DOOR + + +Between the trees the darkness was as if you might have cut it. +Where the lantern looked there were momentary revelations as +they strode along. Its rays seemed to cut pieces out of the +surrounding gloom. But the pieces were small. Its penetrating +power was slight; where its penetration ceased the darkness was +blacker than before. The silence which prevailed had its own +peculiar property; it served to exaggerate the slightest +disturbance. Their very footsteps were differentiated with an +almost morbid clearness. The firm, resolute descent of the +woman's foot, the loose, indeterminate shuffle of the man's; the +sounds seemed to set themselves against each other and to ring +through the trees. They gradually became conscious of the +movements of unseen creatures among the grasses and the herbage, +disturbed by their approach. Once she observed, as she swung the +lantern to one side-- + +"That's a rabbit. There used to be thousands of them when I was +here. I expect there are more now. I daresay the whole place is +overrun with them." + +"It may be a rabbit, though, with due deference to your superior +woodcraft, I doubt if there are many rabbits abroad at this hour +of the night----But that's not!" + +"What? Where?" + +"Are there deer about the place as well?" + +"Deer? I don't think so. I don't remember seeing any." + +"Then give me the lantern!" + +Mrs. Lamb was holding the lantern out in front of her. Snatching +it, he swung it slightly round. As he did so it went out. + +"Luker!" she exclaimed. "How did you manage that? What a clumsy +fool you are!" + +There was a new intonation in his voice. + +"Some one blew it out. Hollo, where are you coming to? Who the +devil, sir, are you? Confound the man, where's he gone?" + +"Luker, what's the matter?" + +"Some one was walking behind us--didn't you hear him? I not only +heard but I felt him; he was as close as that. When I swung the +lantern round I almost dashed it against his face. He blew it +out. He tried to snatch it from me; I felt his fingers. Can you +hear him?" + +"Is that a footstep?" + +"He stepped upon a twig. There's more than one. I tell you +they're all round us. The lantern serves as a beacon; they can +see us though we can't see them." + +They were speaking in whispers. + +"Is that another footstep?" + +"Curse the fellow, I believe he's still within three or four +feet of us. I believe I heard him breathe. I've a revolver in my +pocket; I've half a mind----" + +"I also have a revolver, and I've a whole mind. Look out! I'm +going to fire!" + +There was a flash; a report which seemed to wake the echoes of +the forest for miles and miles; then a scream which rose high +above the echoes, and seemed to hang quivering in, and rending, +the silent air. The stillness which again ensued was rendered +the more striking by its contrast with the previous turmoil. + +"You've shot some one." + +"Not I!--that wasn't a man. I shouldn't be surprised if it was +some kind of a bird. There are birds in these woods which make +noises at night which go right through you. Where's your +friend?" + +"I'll strike a match and try to get a light again. You cover me +while I'm doing it." + +The instant the match flickered into flame there was a crashing +sound among the bushes as of a heavy object in headlong flight. + +"There he is! He's making off! I'll have another pop at him!" + +Again a revolver clamoured, but this time there was no answering +sound, only stillness followed. Luker had succeeded in lighting +the lantern. He held it well out. Together they peered into the +cave of light which it hollowed out in front of them. It was +broken by trees, by bushes, by bracken, but, so far as they +could see, by nothing else. Luker spoke in a whisper. + +"He's gone. They're too much for us, and too many. For all we +can tell there's some one behind each of those trees; they're +all of them big enough to shelter a man. This kind of thing's a +new experience to me--altogether out of my usual line. It's a +job for which I have no sort of stomach. What the game is I +don't know, but it's one in which all the odds are against us--I +do know that. I wish to the devil I'd stayed in town!" + +"You didn't; you've come down into the country with me, and in +the country for the present you've got to stay. Give me that +lantern, and don't you snatch at it again. Whoever blows it out +while I've got hold of it will be clever. Pretend to be a man, +even if you aren't one. As for that game about which you're +talking, if there is one on, I promise you that whoever scores +in it, I shall." + +They continued their progress, the lady again holding the +lantern, moving onwards with her long, regular strides, swinging +it a little as she walked. Mr. Luker, shuffling alongside, +seemed to be unwilling to drop behind, and to find it difficult +to keep up with her. As he went he glanced continually from side +to side, and over his shoulder at the darkness which followed +them. There was no attempt on either side at conversation, they +simply went straight on. + +They had gone some distance without anything happening to +occasion them further concern, when the lady came to a sudden +stop. + +"Here we are!" she exclaimed. "That's the house in front of us." +She held out the lantern, so that its farthest rays just touched +a building which loomed mysteriously in the blackness. There was +a note of triumph in her voice as she went on. "Luker, you're +nearer to that thousand pounds than you perhaps think, and in a +very few minutes I'll be within reach of that quarter of a +million. Then I'll show them!--all the lot of them!" + +Quite what she meant by that last vague threat she only knew. +Before she had a chance to offer an explanation, if it was her +intention to offer one, she was interrupted by Mr. Luker, who +seemed destined that night to act as a harbinger of coming evil. + +"What's that?" he cried. "Who--my God!--who is this coming along +the path?" + +He was not only shrinking as close to her as he could get, he +was gripping her arm with convulsive fingers, which she could +feel were trembling. He was looking in one direction, she in +another. She turned to see what he was staring at; when she saw, +it is possible that she began to be in a less exultant mood. + +Some one, something, was moving along the avenue and coming +towards them. It was not easy to determine what it was; it came +and went. It was rendered visible by a light which seemed to +emanate from its own body, as if it were a kind of +phosphorescence. When the light gleamed it was there plainly, if +dimly, to be seen; when the light ceased to gleam, it--the +something!--seemed to go with it; there was nothing but the +black darkness. This continued, this coming and going, for +perhaps thirty seconds. Then, suddenly, the light not only grew +brighter, it remained. They could see what the something was--it +was a man. But what a man! A huge, unwieldy, bloated, shapeless +creature, covered from head to foot with some white garment +which was swathed round him like a sheet. He seemed to be +floating, rather than walking. They could see no movement of his +limbs, and yet he came steadily towards them until he was within +five or six feet of where they were standing, when the light +faded as suddenly as it had come, and there was nothing but +darkness there. + +For some instants they remained motionless, both being probably +under the impression that though the figure was no longer +visible it still was advancing towards them. While they waited, +on the alert to discover what was next about to happen, the +silence was broken by a curious noise, as by a series of quick, +broken gasps, as if some one panted, struggled, for breath. + +When all again was still, Mr. Luker asked, in a tone of voice in +which was what sounded uncommonly like a note of banter-- + +"Well, my friend, aren't we to see any more of you? Is that the +end of the performance? Won't you favour us with another private +view?" + +In Mrs. Lamb's voice, on the other hand, there was a suggestion +of preternatural gravity. + +"It was Cuthbert Grahame." + +"What?" + +"It was Cuthbert Grahame. Didn't you hear him fighting for +breath?" + +"Cuthbert fiddlesticks! It was some damned trick, and not over +well done either. This entertainment has been prepared for our +special benefit; it occurs to me that it has been insufficiently +rehearsed. We've been treated to the first part up to now; the +second part is waiting for us inside the house--if we ever get +as far. The prelude's been mere foolery. I imagine that the +serious business is to come." + +"It was Cuthbert Grahame." + +"Nonsense! Where were your eyes, not to speak of your senses? +Didn't you notice----" + +"He is waiting for us inside the house." + +"Mrs. Lamb, if you'll exercise a little common-sense and allow +me to finish, I think I shall be able to prove, even to your +satisfaction, that what you've just now witnessed----" + +"Don't you see him? He beckons to us. Can't you hear how hard he +fights for his breath?" + +"No; nor you either. Aren't you well? Is this one of those fits +of which you were telling me trying to come back, in which you +see things? If so, keep it off as long as you conveniently can. +So far as I'm concerned it will only need that to put a crown +and climax on my night's enjoyment. Listen to me, Isabel----" + +"Come!" Taking him by the arm, she led him up to the house. When +they reached the front door she took a key out of the bag which +she still carried. After a momentary hesitation she held it up, +as if to call his attention to something that was taking place +within. "Listen! Don't you hear? He calls to us! Let us go to +him. I've often heard him calling to me like that in the +night--often." + +During the last few seconds, for some occult reason, a change +had taken place in her which had apparently revolutionised the +whole woman externally as well as internally; her bearing, her +manner, her voice, and especially her face, had changed. The +alteration in the latter was nothing short of amazing. Just now +its predominating expression was one of boldness, defiance, +reckless rage. She had looked as if she feared neither man nor +devil; her looks had probably only mirrored her actual feelings. +This air of wildness, of careless contempt for the unknown, +unseen perils, which, according to her companion, hemmed her in +on every side, had been accentuated by the fact that, having +lost her hat when the cart was overturned, her thick black hair +had broken loose from its fastenings and hung in tangled masses +about her face. She had looked what she emphatically was, a +dangerous woman in a dangerous frame of mind. Now all that had +changed. She looked no longer angry or defiant; all traces of +boldness had vanished altogether. Instead, a stolid, fixed +expression had come upon her face, one which, as it were, was +void of all expression. In her wide-open eyes there was a +strained, staring look, which conveyed an uncomfortable +impression that she was gazing at something which only she could +see, gazing with a fixed intensity of vision as if she was bent +on not losing even the minutest details. + +As she stood there, with uplifted face, the rays of the lantern +lighting up her rigid features, Mr. Luker observed her with an +appearance of unmistakable discomfort. The significance of the +change which had taken place in her was borne in on him with +uncomfortable force. The change in her affected him; he was +obviously becoming each second more uneasy. He seemed to make a +desperate attempt to conquer his own increasing apprehension, +and to restore her to her former state of mind. + +"Isabel, you didn't use to be an utter fool. Before you put that +key into the lock, before you move another step, rub that look +of stark, staring midsummer madness off your face. It doesn't +become you, God knows. Listen to what I have to say; try not to +be a fool. Don't you understand----" + +Before he could explain what was the appeal he was about to make +to her understanding, some one, or something, came swirling at +them from the side of the house. The light disappeared in the +lantern; the lantern itself was snatched from the lady's hands. +She made no effort to regain it, nor to ascertain how the thing +had happened. She stood in the darkness, motionless. Presently +she said-- + +"Luker! Luker!" + +There was no answer. She put out her hand to feel for her +companion who, a moment before, had been standing close at her +side. He was not there. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIV + + TOWARDS JUDGMENT + + +For possibly a couple of minutes she continued on the doorstep +immobile, as if she not only did not understand what had +happened, but as if she also still failed to realise that her +legal adviser was at least no longer where he was. She repeated +his name, at intervals--"Luker! Luker!"--almost as if she was a +child who repeated, parrot-like, a meaningless formula. Then, +after a while, when still there came no answer, she thrust her +hand, as if mechanically, into the bosom of her dress, feeling +for something. Presently it emerged, holding a flask. In the +same odd, automatic fashion, as if her actions were not the +product of her own volition, unscrewing the stopper, she placed +the neck between her lips. After a perceptible interval, +suddenly slipping between her fingers, it dropped on to the step +with a clatter. It had contained ether; she had swallowed its +entire contents. + +What were the exact physical or mental results of what would +have been a poison to an unaccustomed subject, it would be +difficult to say. One fact may be baldly stated, it robbed her +of her senses. Her capacity of judging between the real and the +unreal had been trembling in the balance. When she emptied that +flask unreality became all that was real. Not perhaps on the +instant, but certainly after the expiration of a very few +seconds. + +At first she stood trembling, so that one might almost have +expected to see her sink to the ground from sheer inability to +stand. She stretched out her arms into the darkness, as if +seeking for support, and found none. Then, putting her hands up +to her face, she began to rub them up and down before her eyes, +as if endeavouring to rub away some film which obscured her +sight, and she began to cry, softly, beneath her breath. Then, +dropping her hands to her sides, she began to see the things +which were not, those visions which, in some form, are the +inseparable companions of a mind diseased. + +"I am coming!--I heard you!--you need not call so loud!" + +The words were uttered not loudly, but with such clearness of +intonation that, proceeding from her as she stood there all +alone in the outer darkness, and addressed apparently to the +circumambient air, they might have produced on unintentional +listeners not an agreeable effect. She turned, making as if to +insert the key which she still held into the lock of the door +behind her, to find that the door already stood wide open, and +that in the hall beyond there was a faint light which was just +sufficient to render objects visible. + +In her normal condition the fact that the door had seemingly +opened of its own accord would have occasioned her something +more than wonder; she would at least have taken it for granted +that somewhere in its immediate neighbourhood were helping +hands; and she would promptly have set herself to discover to +whom they belonged, and just where their owners might be found. +In her then state no notion of the kind seemed to enter her +brain. That the fact that the door was open occasioned her +surprise was obvious; but it was surprise of a singular quality, +and it was accompanied by abject terror. The woman seemed all at +once to become stunted, to shrink into sheer physical +insignificance. + +"Cuthbert Grahame," she muttered, "why did you open the door? +How did you get out of your bed to open the door?" With a sound +which was part wail, part sob, she stumbled across the threshold +into the hall. "Where shall I go? Shall I go into the room into +which I first went on that first night? Perhaps I'll be safe in +there--perhaps I'll be safe. I don't want to go upstairs--not +yet--not just yet. I daren't--I daren't. Listen! how he calls to +me--how he calls." + +She glanced up the staircase, which she approached even while +she shrank from it, and she saw, in the dim, mysterious light, +leaning over the banister, looking down at her from above, a +woman's face--Nannie Foreshaw. She did not stop to ask herself +if the appearance might by any chance be real, a creature of +warm flesh and blood. It was some moments before she realised +who it was that looked at her. When she did, the presence there +was so unexpected, so wholly unforeseen, and thrust so deeply at +her conscience, that it is not impossible that the mere shock +which resulted from the sight was sufficient to disintegrate her +few remaining wits. She at once took it for granted that she was +gazing at a spectre, a shade returned from the tomb to afflict +her before her time. Cowering back against the wall, she broke +into screams of agony. + +"Nannie! Nannie!--I didn't kill you!--I didn't kill you! Don't +look at me like that!--don't! don't! don't!" Covering her face +with her hands, she began to sob with such violence that one +could see her shaking as she leaned against the wall. When, +removing her hands, she again ventured to look up, there was no +one there. "She's gone! she's gone!" + +The words were uttered with a gasp of relief which it was not +pleasant to hear. For a moment it seemed as if she might be +restored to something like her proper self. Then, while she +seemed to waver, without apparent rhyme or reason, all her +tremors returned. Again she broke into shrieks and cries. + +"She's waiting for me in his room! in his room! in his +room!--she's waiting for me! My God! what am I to do?--help +me! help me! I'll have to go to him. Listen how he calls to +me!--listen how he calls! I'm coming!--don't call so loud!" She +began stumbling up the staircase, blunderingly, blindly, as if +she could not see where she was going. Stopping every two or +three steps, clutching at the wall, the rails; glancing back, +looking as though if she could she would descend. But each time, +just as she was about to beat a retreat, there came to her that +insistent voice, summoning her to her fate. She gasped out +expostulations even as she stumbled upwards. "Don't call so +loud! don't call so loud! I'm coming." + +And she did come. A singular spectacle she presented as she +went. No one would have recognised in that ill-shaped, mouthing, +struggling woman--though she alone knew what it was with which +she struggled; who seemed unable to stand up straight, and to +experience as much difficulty in ascending an ordinary staircase +as if it had been the scarred surface of some precipitous cliff +which she was forced, very much against her will, to climb--the +flamboyant and somewhat overwhelming lady who was known among a +certain set in London as the handsome Mrs. Lamb. There were no +traces of beauty about her then. + +When she had gained the landing her terror seemed, if the thing +were possible, to increase. Descending to her knees, clutching +the railing with both hands, she crawled, as if drawn by some +invisible force, against which all the strength of her +resistance was in vain, towards the room, the bedroom, in which +Cuthbert Grahame had passed so much of the latter part of his +life, and in which, through her action, he had died. And all the +while she protested. + +"I won't come! I won't come!" For an instant she would cling not +only with her hands, but, as it were, with her whole body, to +the railings, as if she had finally resolved that nothing should +constrain her to advance another inch. Then again she was +possessed by a paroxysm of terror. "I will come!--don't call so +loud! I am coming!" + +When she was in front of the door of the room she did halt for +perhaps more than a minute, crouching in a heap on the floor, +covering her face with her hands, overtaken by such a fury of +weeping that the violence of her sobs seemed as if it would tear +her to pieces. Then, as if actuated by some sudden irresistible +impulse, she rose to her feet, and exclaimed, still weeping-- + +"Cuthbert Grahame, I hear you calling--I am here". + +She threw open the dead man's bedroom door. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXV + + JUDGES + + +In the room was the same faint, luminous glow which had been +noticeable in the hall and on the stairs. There could have +been no more eloquent testimony of her condition than the fact +that she accepted its presence as a matter of course; that it +never seemed to occur to her that there was something about +it which required elucidation; still less that a few shrewd, +well-directed inquiries might result in a very simple +explanation. She stood on the threshold, all dishevelled, bent, +weeping; always before her eyes the things which she alone could +see, stricken with a mad agony of fear by the horror of the +sight. + +She came a little farther towards the room, staring towards the +bed. When she had taken a step or two it seemed as if her legs +refused to uphold her any longer. Down she sank on to her knees +again; again she covered her face with her hands, as if by such +means she could shut off from herself the hideous imaginings of +her haunted brain. + +"Don't! don't! don't!" she wailed. + +While still she remained in that attitude of humility and +penitence there came a voice which called her by what had once +been her name. + +"Isabel Burney!" + +That she heard it there could be no doubt. At the sound of it +she shivered more than ever. But it may be that she was in doubt +whether it was a material voice, or whether it was a fresh +manifestation of those too-well remembered tones, which kept +calling to her all the time. For it is possible that a +disordered mind may be conscious that there is a difference +between the real and the imaginary without being capable of +satisfactorily perceiving what it is. She did not answer. It +came again, not loud, yet distinct and dominating. + +"Isabel Burney." + +This time she repeated her former wail, with renewed force of +entreaty. + +"Don't! don't!" + +If it was intended for a cry of appeal to be left alone, it went +unheeded. The voice returned, asking what was emphatically a +leading question. + +"Did you murder Cuthbert Grahame?" + +She made not the slightest attempt to shirk the very weighty +responsibility which attended the reply to such a question. An +affirmative was bursting from her lips almost before it was +asked. + +"Yes! yes! yes!" + +"How did you murder him?" + +Again the wail-- + +"Don't! don't! don't!" + +"How did you murder him?" + +The wail became hysterical cries. + +"Oh! oh! oh!" + +But the voice persisted. + +"How did you murder him?" + +Confused words came stumbling from her lips, as if they were +being forcibly extracted. + +"The pillows--dragged---from under--he choked." + +"You dragged the pillows from under him, so that his head fell +down, and he was choked." + +"Yes." + +"Why did you murder him?" + +Here again the answer came rapidly and clearly. + +"Because I didn't want him to destroy the will which I had +tricked him into signing." + +"How did you trick him?" + +"He made me draw up a will which left all his property to +Margaret Wallace." + +"And then?" + +"I drew up a will in which he left everything to me." + +"And then?" + +"I covered it with a sheet of paper, and got him to sign it, +thinking that he was signing the other." + +"Did he know what you had done?" + +"Yes; I killed him before he could tell any one else and have +the will destroyed." + +The voice was still. There was silence, broken by the sound of +some one moving. The room was filled with a bright light. The +voice came again. + +"Isabel Burney!" + +The woman on her knees, dropping her hands, looked round. By a +lighted lamp which rested on a writing-table stood Margaret +Wallace. Whether Mrs. Lamb realised that she was looking at the +girl herself, or supposed that she was confronted by a +materialised phantom, has never been certainly known. She stared +at her surlily, unblinkingly, affrightedly, as one might stare +at some unpleasing object in a dream. The girl repeated the +questions which had already been answered. As one listened the +last remnants of doubt vanished as to whose was the voice which +had already made itself so prominent. + +"Did you trick Cuthbert Grahame into signing a will in which he +left all that he had to you, when he supposed himself to be +signing one in which he left it all to me?" + +There was a momentary hesitation, then the answer, spoken +sullenly, half beneath her breath, yet plain enough. + +"Yes; I did." + +"And did you then kill him because you feared discovery of what +you had done?" + +"Yes; I did." + +There was another movement on the other side of the room. When +Mrs. Lamb looked round she found herself looking at Dr. Twelves, +who put a question to her on his own account. + +"So you lied to me when you said those pillows must have +slipped--you knew better. As I suspected, you dragged them +away--you female fiend!" + +His invective went unnoticed; there came the rather monotonous +refrain-- + +"Yes; I did". + +There were other movements proceeding from all parts of the +room. On one side of her were Andrew McTavish and his partner, +Mr. Brown. Mr. McTavish was evidently very angry. + +"And you lied to us when you pretended that you suspected us of +robbing you! You knew all along that the only robbery you +yourself had committed--you impudent swindler!" + +He only received the same reply-- + +"Yes; I did". + +Dr. Twelves wagged his finger at her, gruesomely. + +"You shall hang for it, Isabel Burney--you shall hang by the +neck until you're dead!" + +Mr. McTavish cried-- + +"At any rate, you shall be sent to penal servitude for the fraud +you have committed on us!" + +She showed no signs of resentment, as only a very short time +before she undoubtedly would have done, when her resentment +would probably have taken a sufficiently active turn. From her +demeanour it was difficult to determine if she comprehended what +was being said to her. She gazed stolidly about the room. Near a +window stood Nannie Foreshaw, leaning on a stick, holding with +one hand the curtain from behind which she had just emerged. At +sight of her she shrank backwards, as if she would withdraw +herself as far as she could. Before the door, as if he would bar +her retreat, was Harry Talfourd. When she saw him she seemed to +be moved more than she had been by any of the others; she turned +aside, with a low cry, and covered her face. Possibly, in some +tangled fashion, she remembered how, so recently, she had played +to him the _role_ of the great lady, the benefactress; how +willing she had been to be something more to him than that; and +she was vaguely conscious of what a contrast she was exhibiting +to him now. + +Margaret had been seated at a table writing. Now, rising, she +turned to the woman who was still on her knees upon the floor. + +"I have set down upon this sheet of paper a short confession of +your guilt. If you will sign it you shall not hang; you shall +not be sent to prison. You shall receive your only punishment +from your own conscience. I think that is to condemn you to the +greater punishment. I will read to you what I have written." + +She read aloud from the paper which she took in her hand:-- + +"'I confess that Cuthbert Grahame instructed me to draw up a +will in which he left all that he had in the world to Margaret +Wallace; that, without his knowledge, I substituted for it +another form of will, according to which he left his property to +me, and that I induced him to sign this fraudulent form by means +of a trick. I also confess that I murdered Cuthbert Grahame in +order to avoid an exposure of the trick by means of which I had +induced him to sign the substituted fraudulent form of will.' If +you will attach your name to this confession you shall receive +no punishment beyond that which you award yourself--that will be +a sufficient one. Come here and sign." + +As if automatically, Mrs. Lamb rose to her feet, moved towards +the table, seated herself on the chair which Margaret had +occupied, accepted the pen which the girl offered, and wrote her +name in full on the sheet of paper which was set before her. +When she had signed, leaning back, she looked from one to the +other. They waited for her to speak, expecting perhaps some +burst of tardy anger. Then, on a sudden, without a word or a +movement, she slid from the chair on to the floor. When they +gathered round her she lay still. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVI + + PLEASANT DREAMS! + + +The duel had been fought to a finish, and Margaret had won. + +When Mrs. Gregory Lamb was brought back out of that fit by which +she had been overtaken she was lying on Cuthbert Grahame's bed, +on which he had lived for so long, and died at her hand; the bed +whose image had been borne in upon her phantom-haunted brain +with such horrible persistency. Dr. Twelves was bending over +her, standing where he had stood many a time to bend over the +man she slew. She was little better than a babbling idiot. She +is not much more than that now. She is a certified lunatic, +under kindly, yet watchful, guardianship, the expense of which +is paid by the girl whom she so cruelly wronged. + +The physical and mental strain which had been placed upon her +during that period of increasing financial pressure had been +great; her attempts to relieve it by a resort to ether had made +it ten times greater. How much of the spirit she drank has not +been exactly ascertained. She must have consumed large +quantities. Probably only the natural strength of her +constitution enabled her to resist its effects so long as she +did. Undoubtedly the habit of ether drinking had increased in +her to such an extent that in any case it would ultimately have +produced insanity. Her reason was already tottering when she was +brought face to face with Margaret Wallace on the night of her +reception, and was put to such dire confusion. It is believed +that she touched no solid food afterwards, subsisting solely +upon ether. Isaac Luker asserted that she carried a large bottle +of it in her bag when they journeyed together from London, and +was sipping its contents throughout the day. + +It was not strange that when the moment came she was ripe to +fall a ready victim to Margaret's carefully laid lures. The girl +fought her with weapons to which she was incapable of offering +resistance. + +Cuthbert Grahame's money, which had been searched for so long in +vain, was found deposited in the hiding-place the secret of +which she had revealed to Mrs. Lamb, intending, by working on +her guilty conscience and so extorting from her a confession, +which it was certain could never be obtained from her by any +other means, to destroy her when she went to seek it. Margaret +is now Mrs. Henry Talfourd. She is married to one who loved and +loves her, and for the love of whom she was willing to sacrifice +all. She is a rich woman. Bearing in mind the singularity of the +circumstances under which it has come into her possession, she +was desirous of having nothing to do with the dead man's money. +But it was pointed out that, excepting herself, there was no +possible claimant. She regards herself as an almoner, as a +steward of Cuthbert Grahame's great possessions rather than +their owner, and employs by far the larger portion of the income +they produce in works of benefaction. She still produces +pictures in black and white and in colour; there are few women +artists who have achieved a more substantial success. + +Her husband has not realised his dreams. "The Gordian Knot" has +never been produced. He burnt the play with his own hands, and +has never written another. He alone knows why, though his wife +may have a shrewd suspicion. So far he has been content to act +as his wife's right-hand man, an occupation which hitherto has +kept him fully employed. + +Dr. Twelves lives and flourishes. He has been heard to declare +that never again will he proffer assistance to any strange woman +whom he finds by the wayside. Nannie Foreshaw is dead. Messrs. +McTavish & Brown have, if anything, improved their standing as +family solicitors of undoubted integrity; Mrs. Talfourd is one +of their most valued clients. + +Mrs. Talfourd presented Mr. Gregory Lamb with a passage to South +Africa, and with a sum of money when he landed. As he has never +asked for any more money, and nothing has been heard of him +since, the presumption is that he has perished in that grave of +many reputations. His wife's solicitor continues to exist, and +is still a very well-known gentleman in certain extremely +crooked walks of life. + +Cuthbert Grahame's home has been turned into a sanatorium and +holiday home for children. It could hardly be employed for a +better purpose. Boys and girls scamper among the trees; their +voices and their laughter ring through the house. They people it +with fresh associations; the old ghosts are gone. They find +health and happiness in the place where once was neither. And +when, at night, they lay their tired heads upon their pillows, +they dream only pleasant dreams. When they wake in the morning, +whether actually the skies be fair or clouded, to them it is +always as if the sun was shining. + + + + THE ABERDEEN UNIVERSITY PRESS LIMITED + + + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Duel, by Richard Marsh + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DUEL *** + +***** This file should be named 38054.txt or 38054.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/0/5/38054/ + +Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books + +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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