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diff --git a/39018.txt b/39018.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2241488 --- /dev/null +++ b/39018.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10014 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Mr. Marx's Secret, by E. Phillips Oppenheim, +Illustrated by F. Vaux Wilson + + +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: Mr. Marx's Secret + + +Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim + + + +Release Date: February 29, 2012 [eBook #39018] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. MARX'S SECRET*** + + +E-text prepared by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustration. + See 39018-h.htm or 39018-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/39018/39018-h/39018-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/39018/39018-h.zip) + + + + + +MR. MARX'S SECRET + +by + +E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM + +Author of "Mr. Grex of Monte Carlo," "The Double Traitor," +"The Illustrious Prince," etc. + +With frontispiece by F. Vaux Wilson + + + + + + + +Boston +Little, Brown, and Company +1916 + +Published, January, 1916 +Reprinted, January, 1916 (twice) +February, 1916 + +Printers +S. J. Parkhill & Co., Boston, U.S.A. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + CHAPTER PAGE + I.--News from the Pacific 11 + II.--Mr. Francis 15 + III.--The Murder at the Slate-Pits 18 + IV.--My Mother's Warning 23 + V.--Ravenor of Ravenor 27 + VI.--A Doubtful Visitor 39 + VII.--A Meeting and a Metamorphosis 43 + VIII.--An Abode of Mystery 49 + IX.--Mr. Marx 58 + X.--Lady Silchester 65 + XI.--The Cry in the Avenue 70 + XII.--A Dark Corner in the Avenue 76 + XIII.--The Cloud Between Us 81 + XIV.--A Meeting in the Coffee-Room 85 + XV.--A Tete-a-tete Dinner 89 + XVI.--Miss Mabel Fay 93 + XVII.--Behind the Scenes at the Torchester Theatre 98 + XVIII.--At Midnight on the Moor 103 + XIX.--A Strange Attack 111 + XX.--The Monastery Among the Hills 115 + XXI.--A Message from the Dead 124 + XXII.--For Life 127 + XXIII.--My Guardian 135 + XXIV.--My First Dinner Party 138 + XXV.--Mr. Marx's Warning 144 + XXVI.--A Lost Photograph 148 + XXVII.--Leonard de Cartienne 157 + XXVIII.--"As Rome Does" 164 + XXIX.--A Dinner Party Sub-rosa 169 + XXX.--Ecarte with Mr. Fothergill 174 + XXXI.--A Startling Discovery 182 + XXXII.--Forestalled 190 + XXXIII.--A Gleam of Light 195 + XXXIV.--Dr. Schofield's Opinion 199 + XXXV.--An Invitation 204 + XXXVI.--A Metamorphosis 209 + XXXVII.--Mr. Marx is Wanted 218 + XXXVIII.--I Accept a Mission 223 + XXXIX.--My Ride 225 + XL.--My Mission 229 + XLI.--The Count de Cartienne 232 + XLII.--News of Mr. Marx 240 + XLIII.--About Town 246 + XLIV.--A Midnight Excursion to the Suburbs 252 + XLV.--A Mysterious Commission 258 + XLVI.--A Brush with the Police 261 + XLVII.--Light at Last 264 + XLVIII.--A Page of History 269 + XLIX.--I will Go Alone 278 + L.--I Meet my Father 280 + LI.--Dawn 284 + LII.--Where is Mr. Marx? 287 + LIII.--Messrs. Higgenson and Co. 293 + LIV.--A Raid 299 + LV.--The Mystery of Mr. Marx 304 + LVI.--The End of It 308 + + + + + MR. MARX'S SECRET + + + + + CHAPTER I. + NEWS FROM THE PACIFIC. + + +My home was a quaint, three-storeyed, ivy-clad farmhouse in a Midland +county. It lay in a hollow, nestled close up against Rothland Wood, the +dark, close-growing trees of which formed a picturesque background to the +worn greystone whereof it was fashioned. + +In front, just across the road, was the boundary-wall of Ravenor Park, +with its black fir spinneys, huge masses of lichen-covered rock, clear +fish-ponds, and breezy hills, from the summits of which were visible the +sombre grey towers of Ravenor Castle, standing out with grim, rugged +boldness against the sky. + +Forbidden ground though it was, there was not a yard of the park up to +the inner boundary fence which I did not know; not a spinney where I had +not searched for birds' nests or raided in quest of the first primrose; +not a hill on which I had not spent some part of a summer afternoon. + +I was a trespasser, of course; but I was the son of Farmer Morton, an old +tenant on the estate, and much in favour with the keepers, by reason of a +famous brew which he was ever ready to offer a thirsty man, or to drink +himself. So "Morton's young 'un" was unmolested; and, save for an +occasional good-humoured warning from Crooks, the head-gamekeeper, during +breeding-time, I had the run of the place. + +Moreover, the great estates of which Ravenor Park was the centre knew at +that time no other master than a lawyer of non-sporting proclivities, so +the preserves were only looked after as a matter of form. + +I was eight years old, and an unusually hot summer was at its height. It +was past midday, and I had just come out from the house, with the +intention of settling down for an afternoon's reading in a shady corner +of the orchard. I had reached the stack-yard gate when I stopped short, +my hand upon the fastening. + +A most unusual sound was floating across the meadows, through the +breathless air. The church-bells of Rothland, the village on the other +side of the wood, had suddenly burst out into a wild, clashing peal of +joy. + +In a country district everybody knows everyone else's business; and, +child though I was, I knew that no marriage was taking place anywhere +near. + +I stood listening in wonderment, for I had never heard such a thing +before; and, while I was lingering, the bells from Annerley, a village a +little farther away, and the grand, mellow-sounding chimes from the +chapel at Ravenor Castle, breaking the silence of many years, took up the +peal, and the lazy summer day seemed all of a sudden to wake up into a +state of unaccountable delight. + +I ran back towards the house and met my mother standing in the cool stone +porch. The men about the farm were all grouped together, wondering. No +one had the least idea of what had happened. + +And then Jim Harrison, the waggoner, who had just come in from the home +meadow, called out quickly, pointing with his finger; and far away, along +the white, dusty road, we could see the figure of a man on horseback +riding towards us at a furious gallop. + +"It be the master!" he cried, excitedly. "It be the master, for sure! +There bean't no mistaking Brown Bess's gallop. Lord-a-mercy! how 'e be +a-riding her!" + +We all trooped out on to the road to meet my father, eager to hear the +news. In a few moments he reached us, and brought Brown Bess to a +standstill, bathed in sweat and dust, and quivering in every limb. + +"Hurrah, lads!" he shouted, waving his whip above his head. "Hurrah! +There never was such a bit o' news as I've got for you! All Mellborough +be gone crazy about it!" + +"What is it, George? Why don't you tell us?" my mother asked quickly. +And, to my surprise, her hand, in which mine was resting, was as cold as +ice, notwithstanding the August heat. + +He raised himself in his stirrups and shouted so that all might hear: + +"Squire Ravenor be come to life again! They 'a' found him on an island in +the Pacific, close against the coral reef where his yacht went down six +years ago! He's on his way home again, lads. Think of that! Sal, lass, +bring us up a gallon of ale and another after it. We'll drink to his +homecoming, lads!" + +There was a burst of applause and many exclamations of wonder. My +mother's hand had moved, as though unconsciously, to my shoulder, and she +was leaning heavily upon me. + +"Where did you hear this, George?" she asked, in a subdued tone. + +"Why, it be in all the London papers this morning," he answered, taking +off his hat and wiping his forehead. "The steamer that's bringing him +home 'a' sent a message from some foreign port, and Lawyer Cox he's got +one, and it's all written up large on the walls of the Corn Exchange. I +reckon it'll make those deuced lawyers sit up!" chuckled my father, as he +slowly dismounted. + +"Lord-a-mercy! Only to think on it! Six year on a little bit o' an +island, and not a living soul to speak a word to! And now he's on his way +home again. It beats all story-telling I ever heerd on. Why, Alice, lass, +it 'a' quite upset you," he added, looking anxiously at my mother. +"You're all white and scared-like. Dost feel badly?" + +She was standing with her back to us and when she turned round it seemed +to me that a change had crept into her face. + +"It is the heat and excitement," she said quietly. "This is strange news. +I think that I will go in and rest." + +"All right, lass! Get thee indoors and lie down for a bit. Now, then, +lads. Hurrah for the squire and long life to him! Pour it out, Jim--pour +it out! Don't be afraid on it. Such news as this don't coom every day." + +And, with the vision of my stalwart yeoman father, the centre of a little +group of farm-labourers, holding his foaming glass high above his head, +and his honest face ruddy with heat and excitement, my memories of this +scene grow dim and fade away. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + MR. FRANCIS. + + +I was alone with my father in the kitchen, and he was looking as I had +never seen him look before. It was late in the afternoon--as near as I +can remember, about six weeks after the news had reached us of Mr. +Ravenor's wonderful adventures. He had just come in for tea, flushed with +toil and labouring in the hot sun. But as he stood on the flags before +me, reading a letter which had been sent up from the village, the glow +seemed to die out from his face and his strong, rough hands trembled. + +"It's a lie!" I heard him mutter to himself, in a hoarse whisper--"a +wicked lie!" + +Then he sank back in one of the high-backed chairs and I watched him, +frightened. + +"Philip, lad," he said to me, speaking slowly, and yet with a certain +eagerness in his tone, "has your mother had any visitors lately whilst I +'a' been out on the farm?" + +I shook my head. + +"No one, except Mr. Francis," I added doubtfully. + +He groaned and hid his face for a moment. + +"How often has he been here?" he asked, after a while. "When did he come +first? Dost remember?" + +"Yes," I answered promptly, "It was on the day Tom Foulds fell from the +oat-stack and broke his leg. There was another gentleman with him then. I +saw them looking in at the orchard gate, so I asked them if they wanted +anything, and the strange gentleman said that he was thirsty and would +like some milk, so I took him into the dairy; and I think that mother +must have known him before, for she seemed so surprised to see him. + +"He gave me half a crown, too," I went on, "to run away and watch for a +friend of his. But the friend never came, although I waited ever so long. +He's been often since; but I don't like him and----" + +I broke off in sudden dismay. Had not my mother forbidden my mentioning +these visits to anyone? What had I done? I began to cry silently. + +My father rose from his chair and leaned against the oaken chimney-piece, +with his back turned towards me. + +"It's he, sure enough!" he gasped. "Heaven forgive her! But him--him----" + +His voice seemed choked with passion and he did not finish his sentence. +I knew that I had done wrong, and a vague apprehension of threatening +evil stole swiftly upon me. But I sat still and waited. + +It was long before my father turned round and spoke again. When he did so +I scarcely knew him, for there were deep lines across his forehead, and +all the healthy, sunburnt tan seemed to have gone from his face. He +looked ten years older and I trembled when he spoke. + +"Listen, Philip, lad!" he said gravely. "Your mother thinks I be gone +straight away to Farmer Woods to see about the colt, don't she?" + +I nodded silently. We had not expected him home again until late in the +evening. + +"Now, look you here, Philip," he continued. "She's gone to bed wi' a +headache, you say? Very well. Just you promise me that you won't go near +her." + +I promised readily enough. Then he bade me get my tea and he sank back +again into his chair. Once I asked him timidly if he were not going to +have some, but he took no notice. When I had finished he led me softly +upstairs and locked me in my room. Never to this day have I forgotten +that dull look of hopeless agony in his face as he turned away and left +me. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + THE MURDER AT THE SLATE-PITS. + + +It was late on this same evening. All day long the thunder had been +rumbling and growling, and now the storm seemed close at hand. + +I had partly undressed, but it was too hot to get into bed, so I leaned +out of my wide-open window, watching the black clouds hanging down from +the sky, and listening to the rustling of leaves in the wood--sure sign +of the coming storm. + +The air was stifling; and, longing feverishly for the rain, I sat in the +deep window-sill and looked out into the scented darkness, for +honeysuckle and clematis drooped around my window and the garden below +was overgrown with homely, sweet-smelling flowers. + +Suddenly I started. I was quick at hearing, and I had distinctly caught +the sound of a light, firm step passing down the garden path beneath. My +first impulse was to call out, but I checked it when I recognised the +tall, graceful figure moving swiftly along the gravel walk in the shade +of the yew-hedge. It was my mother! + +I watched her, scarcely believing my eyes. What could she be wanting in +the garden at this hour? And while I sat on the window casement, +wondering, a cold shiver of alarm chilled me, for I saw a man creep +stealthily out from the wood and hurry across the little stretch of +meadow towards the garden gate, where she was standing. + +The moon was shining with a sickly light through a thick halo of mist and +I could only just distinguish the figures of my mother and this man, side +by side, talking earnestly. I watched them with riveted eyes until I +heard a quick step on the floor behind me and a hand was laid upon my +mouth, stifling my cry of surprise. + +"It's only me, Philip, lad," whispered a hoarse, tremulous voice. "I +didn't want you to call out--that's all. Hast seen anything of this +before?" And he pointed, with shaking finger, towards the window, from +which he had drawn me back a little. + +I looked at him, a great horror stealing over me. His ruddy face was +blanched and drawn, as though with pain; and there was a terrible light +in his eyes. I was frightened and half inclined to cry. + +"No," I faltered. "It's only Mr. Francis, isn't it?" + +"Only Mr. Francis!" I heard my father repeat, with a groan. "Oh, Alice, +lass--Alice! How could you?" + +He staggered blindly towards the door. I rushed after him, piteously +calling him back, but he pushed me off roughly and hurried out. + +I heard him leave the house, but he did not go down the garden. Then, in +a few minutes, every one of which seemed to me like an hour, the low +voices at the gate ceased and my mother came slowly up the path towards +the house. + +I rushed downstairs and met her in the hall. She seemed half surprised, +half angry, to see me. + +"Philip," she exclaimed, "I thought you were in bed long ago! What are +you doing here?" + +"I am frightened!" I sobbed out. "Father has been in my room watching you +at the gate and he talked so strangely. He is very angry and he looks as +though he were going to hurt someone." + +My mother leaned against the wall, every vestige of colour gone from her +face, and her hand pressed to her side. She understood better than I did +then. + +"Where is he now?" she asked hysterically. "Quick, Philip--quick! Tell +me!" + +"He is gone," I answered. "He went out by the front door and up the +road." + +A sudden calmness seemed to come to her and she stood for a moment +thinking aloud. + +"He has gone up to the wood gate! They will meet in the wood. Oh, Heaven, +prevent it!" she cried passionately. + +She turned and rushed into the garden, down the path and through the +wicket gate towards the wood. I followed her, afraid to stay alone. A +vast mass of inky-black clouds had sailed in front of the moon and the +darkness, especially in the wood, was intense. + +More than once I fell headlong down, scratching my face and hands with +the brambles; but each time I was on my feet immediately, scarcely +conscious of the pain in my wild desire to keep near my mother. + +How she found her way I cannot tell. Great pieces of her dress were torn +off and remained hanging to the bushes into which she stepped; and many +times I saw her run against a tree and recoil half stunned by the shock. + +But still we made progress, and at last we came to a part of the wood +where the trees and undergrowth were less dense and there was a steep +ascent. Up it we ran and when we reached the top my mother paused to +listen, while I stood, breathless, by her side. + +Save that the leaves above us were stirring with a curious motion, there +was not a sound in the whole wood. Birds and animals, even insects, +seemed to have crept away to their holes before the coming storm. We +could see nothing, for a thick mantle of darkness--a darkness which could +almost be felt--had fallen upon the earth. We stood crouched together, +trembling and fearful. + +"Thank Heaven for the darkness!" my mother murmured to herself. "Philip," +she went on, stooping down and feeling for my hand, "do you know where we +are? We should be close to the slate-pits." + +I was on the point of answering her, but the words died away on my parted +lips. Such a sight as was revealed to us at that moment might have driven +a strong man mad. + +Although half a lifetime has passed away, I can see it now as at that +moment. But describe it I cannot, for no words of mine could paint the +thrilling beauty and, at the same time, the breathless horror of the +scene which opened like a flash before us. + +Trees, sky, and space were suddenly bathed in a brilliant, lurid light, +the like of which I have never since seen, nor ever shall again. It came +and went in a space of time which only thought could measure; and this is +what it showed us:-- + +Yawning at our feet the deep pit and sullen waters of the quarry, for we +were scarcely a single step from the precipitous edge; the huge piles of +slate and the sheds with the workmen's tools scattered around; and my +father, his arms thrown upwards in agony, and a wild cry bursting from +his lips, at the very moment that he was hurled over the opposite side of +the chasm! + +We saw the frantic convulsions of despair upon his ashen face, his eyes +starting from their sockets, as he felt himself falling into space; and +we saw the dim outline of another man staggering back from the brink, +with his hands outstretched before his face, in horror at what he had +done. + +Then, as suddenly as it had come, the fierce glare vanished. The +heavens--only a moment before open and flooding the land with sheets of +living fire--were black and impenetrable, and the crashing thunder shook +the air around and made the earth tremble, as though it were splitting up +and the very elements were being dissolved. + +With a cry, the heartrending anguish of which will ring for ever in my +ears, my mother sank down, a white, scared heap; and I, my limbs unstrung +and my senses numbed, crouched helpless beside her. Then the rain fell +and there was silence. + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + MY MOTHER'S WARNING. + + +For many weeks after that terrible night in Rothland Wood, I lay +wrestling with a fierce fever, my recovery from which was deemed little +short of miraculous. A sound constitution, however, and careful nursing +brought me round, and I opened my eyes one sunny morning upon what seemed +to me almost a new world. + +The first thing that I can clearly remember after my return to +consciousness was the extraordinary change which had taken place in my +mother. From a beautiful, active woman, she seemed to have become +transformed into a stern, cold statue. + +Even now I can recall how frightened I was of her during those first days +of convalescence, and how I shrank from her constant presence by my +bedside with a nameless dread. + +The change was in her appearance as well as in her manner. Her rich brown +hair had turned completely grey, and there was a frigid, set look in her +face, denuded of all expression or affection, which chilled me every time +I looked into it. It was the face--not of my mother, but of a stranger. + +As I began to regain strength and the doctors pronounced me fit to leave +the sick-room, she began to display signs of uneasiness, and often looked +at me in a singular kind of way, as though there were something which she +would say to me. + +And one night I woke up suddenly, to find her standing by my bedside, +wrapped in a long dressing-gown, her grey hair streaming down her back +and a wild gleam in her burning eyes. I started up in bed with a cry of +fear, but she held out her hand with a gesture which she intended to be +reassuring. + +"Nothing is the matter, Philip," she said. "Lie down, but listen." + +I obeyed, and had she noticed me closely she would have seen that I was +shivering; for her strange appearance and the total lack of affection in +her manner, had filled me with something approaching to horror. + +"Philip, you will soon be well enough to go out," she continued. "People +will ask you questions about that night." + +It was the first time the subject had been broached between us. I raised +myself a little in the bed and gazed at her, with blanched cheeks and +fascinated eyes. + +"Listen, Philip! You must remember nothing. Do you understand me?" + +"Yes," I answered faintly. + +"You must forget that you saw me in the garden; you must forget +everything your father said to you. Do you hear?" + +"Yes," I repeated. "But--but, mother----" + +"Well?" + +"Will he be caught--the man who killed father?" I asked timidly. "Oh, I +hope he will!" + +Her lips parted slowly, and she laughed--a bitter, hysterical laugh, +which seemed to me the most awful sound I had ever heard. + +"Hope! Yes; you may hope--hope if you will!" she cried; "but remember +this, boy: If your hope comes true, it will be an evil day for you and +for me! Remember!" + +Then she turned and walked to the door without another word. I sat in bed +and watched her piteously, with a great lump in my throat and a sore +heart. The moonlight was pouring in through my latticed window, falling +full upon the long, graceful lines of her stately figure and her hard, +cold face. I was forlorn and unhappy, but to look at her froze the words +upon my lips. + +Merciless and cruel her features seemed to me. There was no pity, no +love, not a shadow of response to my half-formed, appealing gesture. I +let her go and sank back upon my pillows, weeping bitterly, with a deep +sense of utter loneliness and desolation. + +On the following day I was allowed to leave my room and very soon I was +able to get about. As my mother had anticipated, many people asked me +questions concerning the events of that hideous night. To one and all my +answer was the same. I remembered nothing. My illness had left my memory +a blank. + +Long afterwards I saw more clearly how well it was that I had obeyed my +mother's bidding. + +A brief extract from a county newspaper will be sufficient to show what +the universal opinion was concerning my father's murder. I copy it here: + +"In another column will be found an account of the inquest on the body of +George Morton, farmer, late of Rothland Wood Farm. The verdict returned +by the jury--namely, 'Wilful murder against John Francis'--was, in the +face of the evidence, the only possible one; and everyone must unite in +hoping that the efforts of the police will be successful, and that the +criminal will not be allowed to escape. The facts are simple and +conclusive. + +"It appears from the evidence of Mr. Bullson, landlord of the George +Hotel, Mellborough, and of several other _habitues_ of the place, that +only a few days before the deed was committed, there was a violent +dispute between deceased and Francis and that threats were freely used on +both sides. On the night in question Francis started from Rothland +village shortly after nine o'clock, with the intention of making his way +through the wood to Ravenor Castle. Owing, no doubt, to the extraordinary +darkness of the night, he appears to have lost his way, and to have been +directed by Mrs. Morton, who noticed him wandering about near her garden +gate. + +"Mrs. Morton declines to swear to his identity, owing in the darkness; +but this, in the face of other circumstances, must count for little in +his favour. He was also seen by the deceased, who, enraged at finding him +on his land and addressing his wife, started in pursuit, followed by Mrs. +Morton and her little boy, who arrived at the slate-pits in time to +witness, but too late to prevent, the awful tragedy which we fully +reported a few days since. + +"In face of the flight of the man Francis, and the known fact that he was +in the wood that night, there is little room for doubt as to his being +the actual perpetrator of the deed, although the details of the struggle +must remain, for the present, shrouded in mystery. Mr. Ravenor, who has +just arrived in England, has offered a reward of L500 for information +leading to the arrest of Francis, who was a servant at the Castle." + + + + + CHAPTER V. + RAVENOR OF RAVENOR. + + +It was generally expected that my mother would be anxious to depart as +soon as possible from a neighbourhood which had such terrible +associations for her. As a matter of fact, she showed no intention of +doing anything of the sort. At the time I rather wondered at this, but I +am able now to divine her reason. + +It chanced that the farm, of which my father had been tenant for nearly a +quarter of a century, was taken by a neighbour who had no use for the +house, and so it was arranged that we should stay on at a merely nominal +rent. Then began a chapter of my life without event, which I can pass +rapidly over. + +Every morning I walked over to Rothland and received two hours' +instruction from the curate, and in the afternoon my mother taught me +modern languages. The rest of the day I spent alone, wandering +whithersoever I pleased, staying away as long as I chose, and returning +when I felt inclined. The results of such a life at my age soon developed +themselves. I became something of a misanthrope, a great reader, and a +passionate lover of Nature. At any rate, it was healthy, and my taste for +all sorts of outdoor sport prevented my becoming a bookworm. + +It had its influence, too, upon my disposition. It strengthened and gave +colour to my imagination, expanded my mind, and filled me with a strong +love for everything that was vigorous and fresh and pure in the books I +read. + +Shakespeare and Goethe were my first favourites in literature; but as I +grew older the fascination of lyric poetry obtained a hold upon me, and +Shelley and Keats, for a time, reigned supreme in my fancy. But my tastes +were catholic. I read everything that came in my way, and was blessed +with a wonderful memory, which enabled me to retain much that was worth +retaining. + +Meanwhile, the more purely technical part of my education was being +steadily persevered in; and so I was not surprised, although it was +rather a blow to me, when the clergyman who had been my tutor walked home +with me through the wood one summer evening, and told my mother that it +was useless my going to him any longer, for I already knew all that he +could teach me. + +I watched her covertly, hoping that she would show some sign of +gratification at what I felt to be a high compliment. But she simply +remarked that, if such was the case, she supposed the present arrangement +had better terminate, thanked him for the trouble he had taken with me, +and dismissed the matter. I scanned her cold, beautiful face in vain for +any signs of interest. The cloud which had fallen between us on the night +of my father's murder had never been lifted. + +The curate stayed to tea with us, and afterwards I walked back through +the woods with him, for he was a sociable fellow, fond of company--even +mine. + +When I reached home again I found my mother looking out for me, and I +knew from her manner that she had something important to say to me. + +"Philip, I have heard to-day that Mr. Ravenor is expected home," she said +slowly. + +I started and a little exclamation of pleasure escaped me. There was no +man whom I longed so much to see. What a reputation was his! A scholar of +European fame, a poet, and a great sinner; a Croesus; at times a reckless +Sybarite, at others an ascetic and a hermit; a student of Voltaire; the +founder of a new school of philosophy. All these things I had heard of +him at different times, but as yet I had never seen him. Something more +than my curiosity had been excited and I looked forward now to its +gratification. + +My mother took no note of my exclamation, but her brow darkened. We were +standing together on the lawn in front of the house and she was in the +shadow of a tall cypress tree. + +"I do not suppose that he will remain here long," she continued, in a +hard, strained tone; "but while he is at the Castle it is my wish that +you do not enter the park at all." + +"Not enter the park!" I repeated the words and stared at my mother in +blank astonishment. What difference could Mr. Ravenor's presence make to +us? + +"Surely you do not mean this?" I cried, bitterly disappointed. "Why, I +have been looking forward for years to see Mr. Ravenor! He is a famous +man!" + +"I know it," she interrupted, "and a very dangerous one. I do not wish +you to meet him. The chances are that he would not notice you if he saw +you, but it is better to run no risks. You will remember what I have +said? A man of his strange views and principles is to be +avoided--especially by an impressionable boy like you." + +She left me dumbfounded, crossed the lawn with smooth, even footsteps, +and entered the house. I watched her disappear, disturbed and uneasy; +Something in her manner had conveyed a strange impression to me. I could +not help thinking she had other reasons than those she had given for +wishing to keep Mr. Ravenor and me apart. It seemed on the face of it to +be a very absurd notion, but it had laid hold of me and her subsequent +conduct did not tend to dispel it. + +On the afternoon of his expected arrival I lingered about for hours in +the orchard, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, for the gates of the park, +opposite our house, were the nearest to Mellborough Station. But I was +disappointed. He came, it is true, but in a closed brougham, drawn by a +pair of swift, high-stepping bays, which swept like a flash by the hedge +over which I was looking, leaving a confused recollection of glistening +harness, handsome liveries, and a dark, noble face, partly turned towards +me, but imperfectly seen. It was a glimpse which only increased my +interest; yet how to gratify my curiosity in view of my mother's wishes I +could not tell. + +That night she renewed her prohibition. She came to me in the little +room, where I kept my books and Penates, and laid her hand upon my +shoulder. Mr. Ravenor had returned, she said--how did she know, save that +she, too, had been watching, for the flag was not yet hoisted?--and she +hoped that I would remember what her wishes were. + +I promised that I would observe them, as far as I could, although they +seemed to me ridiculous, and I did not hesitate to hint as much. What was +more unlikely than that Mr. Ravenor, distinguished man of the world, +should take the slightest notice of a country boy, much more attempt to +gain any sort of influence over him? The more I thought of it and of my +mother's nervous fears, the more I grew convinced, against my will, of +some other motive which was to be kept secret from me. + +A week passed and very little was seen of Mr. Ravenor by anyone. As +usual, many rumours were circulated and discussed. He was reported to +have shut himself up in his library and to have refused admission to all +visitors. He was living like an anchorite, fasting and working hard, +surrounded by books and manuscripts all day and night, and far into the +small hours of the morning. He was doing penance for recent excesses; he +was preparing for some wild orgies; he was writing a novel, a +philosophical pamphlet, an article for the reviews, or another volume of +poems. + +Among all classes of our neighbours nothing else was talked about but the +doings, or supposed doings, of Mr. Ravenor. + +One afternoon chance led me into the little room which my mother called +her own, a room I seldom entered. There was a small volume lying on the +table and carelessly I took it up and glanced at the title. Then, with a +quick exclamation of pleasure, I carried it away with me. It was Mr. +Ravenor's first little volume of poems, which I had tried in vain to get. +The Mellborough bookseller of whom I had ordered it told me that it was +out of print. The first edition had been exhausted long since and the +author had refused to allow a second edition to be issued. + +I met my mother in the hall and held out the volume to her. + +"You never told me that you had a copy of Mr. Ravenor's poems," I said +reproachfully. "I have just found it in your room." + +She started, and for a moment I feared that she was going to insist upon +my giving up the book. She did not do so, however; but I noticed that the +hand which was resting upon the banister was grasping the handrail +nervously, as though for support, and that she was white to the very +lips. + +"No; I had forgotten," she said slowly--"I mean that I had forgotten you +had ever asked for it. Take care of it, Philip, and give it me back +to-night. It was given to me by a friend and I value it." + +I promised and left the house. My range of pleasures was in some respects +a limited one, but it did not prevent me from being an epicure with +regard to their enjoyment. I did not glance inside the book, although I +was longing to do so, until I had walked five or six miles and had +reached one of my favourite halting-places. Then I threw myself down in +the shadow of a great rock on the top of Beacon Hill and took the volume +from my pocket. + +It was a small, olive-green book, delicately bound, and printed upon +rough paper. It had been given to my mother, evidently, for her Christian +name was inside, written in a fine, dashing hand, and underneath were +some initials which had become indistinct. Then, having satisfied myself +of this, and handled it for a few moments, I turned over the pages +rapidly and began to read. + +The first part was composed almost entirely of sonnets and love-poems. +One after another I read them and wondered. There was nothing amateurish, +nothing weak, here. They were full of glowing imagery, of brilliant +colouring, of passion, of fire. Crude some of them seemed to me, who had +read no modern poetry and knew many of Shakespeare's and Milton's sonnets +by heart; but full of genius, nevertheless, and with the breath of life +warm in them. + +The second portion was devoted to longer poems and these I liked best. +There was in some more than a touch of the graceful, fascinating +mysticism of Shelley, the passionate outcry of a strong, noble mind, +seeking to wrest from Nature her vast secrets and to fathom the mysteries +of existence; the wail of bewildered nobility of soul turning in despair +from the cold creeds of modern religion to seek some other and higher +form of spiritual life. + +I read on until the sun had gone down and the shades of twilight had +chased the afterglow from the western sky. Then I closed the book and +rose suddenly with a great start. + +Scarcely a dozen yards away, on the extreme summit of the hill, a man on +horseback sat watching me. His unusually tall figure and the fine shape +of the coal-black horse which he was riding, stood out against the +background of the distant sky with a vividness which seemed almost more +than natural. Such a face as his I had never seen, never imagined. I +could neither describe it, nor think of anything with which to compare +it. + +Dark, with jet-black hair, and complexion perfectly clear, but tanned by +Southern suns; a small, firm mouth; a high forehead, furrowed with +thought; aquiline nose; grey-blue eyes, powerful and expressive--any man +might thus be described, and yet lack altogether the wonderful charm of +the face into which I looked. It was the rare combination of perfect +classical modelling with intensity of character and nobility of +intellect. It was the face of a king among men; and yet there were times +when a certain smile played around those iron lips, and a certain light +flashed in those brilliant eyes, when to look into it made me shudder. +But that was afterwards. + +He remained looking at me and I at him, for fully a minute. Then he +beckoned to me with his whip--a slight but imperious gesture. I rose and +walked to his side. + +"Who are you?" he asked curtly. + +"My name is Philip Morton," I answered. "I live at Rothland Wood +farmhouse." + +"Son of the man who was murdered?" + +I assented. He gazed at me fixedly, with the faintest possible expression +of interest in his languid grey eyes. + +"You were very intent upon your book," he remarked. "What was it?" + +I held it up. + +"You should know it, sir," I answered. + +He glanced at the title and shrugged his shoulders slightly. There were +indications of a frown upon his fine forehead. + +"You should be able to employ your time better than that," he said. + +"I don't think so. I am fond of reading--especially poetry," I replied. + +The idea seemed to amuse him, for he smiled, and the stem lines in his +countenance relaxed for a moment. Directly his lips were parted his whole +expression was transformed and I understood what women had meant when +they talked about the fascination of his face. + +"Fond of reading, are you? A village bookworm. Well, they say that to +book-lovers every volume has a language and a mission of its own. What do +my schoolboy voices tell you?" + +"That you were once in love," I answered quickly. + +A half-amused, half-contemptuous shade passed across his face. + +"Youth has its follies, like every other stage of life," he said. "I +daresay I experienced the luxury of the sensation once, but it must have +been a long time ago. Come, is that all it tells you?" + +"It tells me that men lie when they call you an Atheist." + +He sat quite still on his horse and the smile on his lips became a +mocking one. + +"Atheism was most unfashionable when those verses were written," he +remarked. "Any other 'ism' was popular enough, but Atheism sounded ugly. +Besides, I was only a boy then. Perhaps I had some imagination left. It +is a gift which one loses in later life." + +"But religion is not dependent upon imagination." + +"Wholly. Religion is an effort of imagination and, therefore, is more or +less a matter of disposition. That is one of its chief absurdities. Women +and sensitive boys are easiest affected by it. Men of sturdy +common-sense, men with brains and the knowledge how to use them, are +every day bursting the trammels of an effete orthodoxy." + +"And what can their common-sense and their brains give them in its +place?" I asked. "I cannot conceive any practical religion without +orthodoxy." + +"A little measure of philosophy. It is all they want. Only the +faint-hearted, who have not the courage to contemplate physical +annihilation, console themselves by building up a hysterical faith in an +impossible hereafter. There is no hereafter." + +"A horrible creed!" I exclaimed. + +"By no means. Let men devote half the time and the efforts that they +devote to this phantasy of religion to schooling themselves in +philosophic thought, and they will learn to contemplate it unmoved. To +recognise that the end of life is inevitable is to rob it of most of its +terrors, save to cowards. The man who wastes a tissue of his body in +regretting what he cannot prevent is a fool. Annihilation is a more +comfortable doctrine and a more reasonable one, too. Don't you agree with +me, boy?" + +"No; not with a single word!" I cried, growing hot and a little angry, +for I could see that he was only half in earnest and I had no fancy to be +made a butt of. "Imagination is not the groundwork of religion; +common-sense is. Why----" + +"Oh, spare me the stock arguments!" he broke in, with a slight shudder. +"Keep your religion and hug it as close as you like, if you find it any +comfort to you. Where have you been to school?" + +"Nowhere," I answered. "I have read with Mr. Sands, the curate of +Rothland." + +He laughed softly to himself, as though the idea amused him, looking at +me all the time as though I were some sort of natural curiosity. + +"Fond of reading, are you?" he asked abruptly. + +"Yes. Fonder than I am of anything else." + +"And your books--where do they come from?" + +"Wherever I can get any. From the library at Mellborough, or from Mr. +Sands, most of them." He laughed again and repeated my words, as though +amused. + +"No wonder you're behind the times," he remarked. "Now, shall I lend you +some books?" + +I shook my head feebly, for I was longing to accept his offer. + +"I'm afraid your sort of books would not suit me," I said. "I don't want +to be converted to your way of thinking. It seems to me that there is +such a thing as overtraining of the mind." + +"So you look upon me as a sort of Mephistopheles, eh? Well, I've no +ambition to make a convert of you. To be a pessimist is to be----" + +"An unhappy man," I interrupted eagerly, "and a very narrow-minded one, +too. It is a city-born creed. No one could live out here in the country +and espouse it!" + +"Boy, how old are you?" he asked abruptly. + +"Seventeen next birthday, sir," I answered. + +"You have a glib tongue--the sign of an empty head, I fear." + +"Better empty than full of unhealthy philosophy," I answered bluntly. + +He laughed outright. + +"The country air has sharpened your wits, at any rate," he said. "You're +a fool, Philip Morton; but you will be happier in your folly than other +men in their wisdom. There's a great deal of comfort in ignorance." + +He gave me a careless yet not unkind nod and, wheeling his great horse +round with a turn of the wrist, galloped down the hillside and across the +soft, spongy turf at a pace which soon carried him out of sight. But I +stood for a while on a piece of broken rock on the summit of the hill +gazing after his retreating figure, and watching the twinkling lights +from the many villages stretched away in the valley below. The sound of +his low, strong voice yet vibrated in my ears, and the sad, beautiful +face, with its languid grey eyes and weary expression, seemed still by my +side. Already I began to feel something of the influence which this man +appeared to exercise over everyone whom he came near; and I felt vaguely, +even then, that if suffered to grow, it would become an influence +all-powerful with me. + +When I reached home it was late--so late that my mother, who seldom +betrayed any interest or curiosity in my doings, asked me questions. I +felt a curious reluctance at first to tell her with whom I had been +talking, and it was justified when I saw the effect which my words had +upon her. A look almost of horror filled her eyes and her face was white +with anger. It was as though a long-expected blow had fallen. + +"At last! at last!" she murmured to herself, as though forgetful of my +presence. Then her eyes closed and her lips moved softly. It seemed to me +that she was praying. + +I was bewildered and inclined to be angry that she should carry her +dislike of Mr. Ravenor so far. Did she think me so weak and +impressionable that a few minutes' conversation with any man could bring +me harm? + +"You carry your dislike of Mr. Ravenor a little too far, mother," I +ventured to say. "What can you know of him so bad that you see danger in +my having talked with him for a few minutes?" + +She looked at me fixedly and grew more composed. + +"It is too late now, Philip," she said, in a low tone. "The mischief is +done. If I could have foreseen this we would have gone away." + +"To have avoided Mr. Ravenor?" I cried, wondering. + +"Yes." + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + A DOUBTFUL VISITOR. + + +Late in the afternoon of the following day a visitor rode through the +stack-yard and reined in his horse before our door. I was reading in the +room which my mother chiefly occupied and, when I glanced out of the +side-window, overhung and darkened by jessamine and honeysuckle, I had a +great surprise. The book dropped from my fingers and I stood still for a +moment, uncertain what to do. For outside, sitting composedly upon his +fine black horse and apparently considering as to the best means of +making his presence known, was Mr. Ravenor. + +He saw me and, with a curt but not ungracious motion of the head, +beckoned me out. I went at once and found him dismounted and standing +upon the step. + +"I want to see your mother, boy," he said sharply. "Is there no one about +who can hold my horse? Where are all the farm men?" + +I hesitated and stood there for a moment, awkward and confused. My +mother's strange words concerning him were still ringing in my ears. +Supposing she refused to come down and receive, as a visitor, the man of +whom she had spoken such mysterious words? Nothing appeared to me more +likely. And yet what was I to do? + +He watched me, as though reading my thoughts. That he was indeed doing so +I very quickly discovered. + +"Quick, boy!" he said. "I am not accustomed to be kept waiting. I know as +well as you do that I am not a welcome visitor, but your mother will see +me, nevertheless. Call one of the men!" + +I passed across the garden and entered the farmyard. Jim, the waggoner, +was there, turning over a manure-heap, and I returned with him at my +heels. Mr. Ravenor tossed him the reins and, stooping low, followed me +into our little sitting-room. + +He laid his whip upon the table and, selecting the most comfortable +chair, sat down leisurely and crossed his legs. He was, of course, +entirely at his ease, and was watching my discomposure with a quiet, +mocking smile. + +"Now go and tell your mother that I desire to see her!" he commanded. + +With slow steps I turned away, and, mounting the stairs, knocked at her +door. + +"Mother, there is a visitor downstairs!" I called out softly. "It is----" + +"I know," she answered calmly. "Go away. I shall be down in a few +minutes." + +I went downstairs again and into the sitting-room, breathing more freely. +Mr. Ravenor had not stirred, and when I entered appeared to be deep in +thought. At the sound of my footsteps, however, his expression changed at +once into its former impassiveness. He glanced round the room with an air +of lazy curiosity and his half-closed eyes rested upon my little case of +books. + +"What have you there?" he inquired. "Read me out the titles." + +I did so, with just an inkling of reluctance, for my collection was +altogether a haphazard one, precious though it was to me. Half-way +through he checked me. + +"There, that'll do!" he exclaimed, laughing softly. "This is really +idyllic. 'Abercrombie' and 'Robinson Crusoe,' 'Jeremy Taylor' and 'Thomas +a Kempis.' My poor boy, if you have a headpiece at all, how it must want +oiling!" + +I was a little indignant at his tone and answered him quickly. + +"I don't know. I'm not sure that I should care for your kind of books +very much." + +He arched his fine eyebrows and the smile still lingered around his lips. + +"Indeed! And why not? And how have you been able to divine what sort of +books mine are, without having seen them?" + +"Well, perhaps I don't mean that exactly," I answered, sitting on the +edge of the table, and thrusting my hands deep down into my trousers +pockets, with the uncomfortable sensation that I was making a fool of +myself. "I was judging from what you said you were last night. If study +has only brought you to pessimism, I would rather be ignorant." + +"You really are a wonderfully wise boy for your years," he said, still +smiling. "But you must remember that there are two distinct branches of +study. One, the more popular and the more commonly recognised, leads to +acquired knowledge--the knowledge of facts and sciences and languages; +the other is the pure sharpening and training of the mind, by reading +other men's thoughts and ideas and theories--in short, by becoming master +of all the philosophical writers of all nations. Now, it is the latter +which you would have to avoid in order to retain your present Arcadian +simplicity; but without the former, man is scarcely above the level of an +animal." + +"I think I see what you mean," I admitted. "I should like to be a good +classical scholar and mathematician, and know a lot of things. It seems +to me," I added hesitatingly, "that this sort of knowledge is quite +sufficient to strengthen and train the mind. The other would be very +likely to overtrain it and prove unhealthy, especially if it leads +everyone where it has led you." + +"Oh, I wanted no leading!" he said lightly. "I was born a pessimist. +Schopenhauer was my earliest friend, Voltaire my teacher, and Shelley my +god! Matter of disposition, of course. I had too little imagination to +care a rap about cultivating a religion, and too much to be a moralist. +Your mother is coming at last, then?" + +The door opened and I looked up anxiously. The words of introduction +which had been trembling upon my lips were unuttered. I stood as helpless +and dumbfounded as a ploughboy, with my eyes fixed upon my mother. + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + A MEETING AND A METAMORPHOSIS. + + +That it was my mother I could not at first believe. She wore a plain dark +dress, with a black lace kerchief about her neck; but a dress, simple +though it was, of a style and material unlike any that I had ever before +seen her wear. Although I knew nothing of her history, I had always +suspected that she was of a very different station from my father's, and +at that moment I knew it, for it seemed as though she had, of a sudden, +made up her mind to assume her proper position. Not only were her dress +and the fashion of arranging her hair unusual, but her manners, her +voice, her whole bearing and appearance were utterly changed. It was as +though she had, without the slightest warning, dropped the mask of long +years, and stepped back, like a flash, into the personality which +belonged to her. + +Nor was this the only change. A slight pink flush had chased the leaden +pallor from her cheeks, and her eyes, which had of late seemed dull and +heavy, were full of sparkling light and suppressed animation. Her +manners, as well as her personal appearance, all bore witness to some +startling metamorphosis. I was more than astonished; I was thunderstruck. +What seemed to me most wonderful was that a visit from the man against +whom she had so solemnly and passionately cautioned me should thus have +galvanised her into another state of being. + +Mr. Ravenor rose at her entrance and bowed with the easy grace of a man +of the world. My mother returned his greeting with a stately +self-possession which matched his own; but it struck me, watching them +both closely, that, while he was perfectly collected, she was in reality +far from being so. I could see the delicate white fingers of her left +hand fold themselves convulsively around the lace handkerchief which she +was carrying, and when she entered a shiver--gone in a moment and +perceptible only to me, because my eyes were fastened upon her--shook her +slim, lithe figure. + +But in the few commonplace remarks which first passed between them there +was nothing in speech or manner that betrayed the least embarrassment. +She answered him as one of his own order, graciously, yet just allowing +him to see that his visit was a surprise to her and that she expected him +to declare its purpose. I have dwelt somewhat upon this meeting for +reasons which will be sufficiently apparent when I have finished my +story. + +After a few remarks about the farm, the crops, and the favourable +weather, he gave the wished-for explanation. + +"I have come to say a few words to you about your son, Mrs. Morton," he +began abruptly. + +She and I looked equally astonished. + +"I am a man of few words," he continued. "The few which I desire to say +upon this subject had better be said, I think, to you alone, Mrs. +Morton." + +I would have left the room at once, but my mother prevented me. She laid +a trembling hand upon my shoulder, and drew me closer to her. + +"You can have nothing to say to me, Mr. Ravenor, which it would not be +better for him to hear, especially as you say that it concerns him." + +He shrugged his high, square shoulders, as though indifferent; but I +fancied, nevertheless, that a shade of annoyance lingered in his face for +a moment. + +"Very good!" he said shortly. "Rumour may have told you, Mrs. Morton, if +you ever listen to such things, that I am a very wicked man. Possibly! I +don't deny it! At any rate, I am, by disposition and custom, profoundly +selfish. I owe to your son a luxury--that of having found my thoughts +withdrawn from myself for a few minutes--with me a most rare event. + +"I met him last evening and talked with him. He talked like a fool, it is +true, but that has nothing to do with it. Afterwards I thought of him +again; wondered what you were going to do with him; remembered--pardon +me!--that you must be poor; and remembered, also, that you have suffered +through a servant of mine." + +He paused. For nearly half a minute they looked one another in the +face--my mother and this man. There was something in her rapt, fascinated +gaze, and in the keen, brilliant light which flashed from his dark eyes +as he returned it, which seemed strange to me. It was like a challenge +offered and accepted--a duel in which neither was vanquished, for neither +flinched. + +"It occurred to me then," he continued calmly, "to call and ask you what +you intended doing with him, and to plead, as excuses for the suggestion +which I am about to make, the reasons which I have just stated. I am a +rich man, as you know, and the money would be nothing to me. I wish to be +allowed to defray the expenses of finishing your son's education." + +It seemed to me a magnificently generous offer, but a very simple one. I +could not understand the agitation and apparent indecision which it +caused my mother. Her prompt refusal I could have understood, although it +would have been a blow to me. But this mixture of horror and +consternation, of emotion and dismay, I could make nothing of. The +feeling which I had imagined would surely be manifested--gratitude--was +conspicuous by its absence. What did it all mean? + +My mother sat down and Mr. Ravenor leaned back in his armchair, +apparently content to wait for her decision. I moved across the room to +her side and took her cold fingers into mine. + +"Mother," I cried, with glowing cheeks and voice trembling with +eagerness, "what is the matter? Why do you not say 'yes'? You know how I +have wanted to go to college! There is no reason why you should not +consent, is there?" + +Mr. Ravenor smiled--a very slight movement of the lips. + +"If your mother considers your interests at all," he said calmly, "she +will certainly consent." + +I was about to speak, but my mother looked up and I checked the words on +my lips. + +"Mr. Ravenor," she said quietly, "I accept your offer and I thank you for +it. That is all I can say." + +"Quite enough," he remarked nonchalantly. + +"But there is one thing I should like you to understand," she added, +looking up at him. "I consent, it is true; but, had it not been for +another reason, far more powerful with me than any you have urged, I +never should have done so. It is a reason which you do not know of--and +which I pray that you never may know of," she added, in a lower key. + +He made no answer; indeed, he seemed little interested in my mother's +words. He turned, instead, to me and read in my face all the enthusiasm +which hers lacked. I would have spoken, but he held up his hand and +checked me. + +"Only on one condition," he said coldly. "No thanks. I hate them! What I +do for you I do to please myself. The money which it will cost me is no +more than I have thrown away many times on the idlest passing pleasure. I +have simply chosen to gratify a whim, and it happens that you are the +gainer. Remember that you can best show your gratitude by silence." + +His words fell like drops of ice upon my impetuosity. I remained silent +without an effort. + +"From what you said just now," he continued, "I learn that it has been +your desire to perfect your education in a fashion which you could not +have done here. Have you any distinct aims? I mean, have you any definite +ideas as to the future?" + +I shook my head. + +"I never dared to encourage any," I answered, truthfully enough. "I knew +that we were poor and that I should have to think about earning my living +soon--probably as a schoolmaster." + +"You mean to say, then, that you have never had any distinct +ambitions--everything has been vague?" + +"Except one thing," I answered slowly. "There is one thing which I have +always set before me to accomplish some day, but it is scarcely an +ambition and it has nothing to do with a career." + +"Tell it to me!" he commanded. + +I did so, without hesitation, looking him full in the face with +heightened colour, but speaking with all the determination which I felt +in my heart. + +"I have made up my mind that some day I will find the man Francis--the +man who murdered my father!" + +He was silent. I could almost have fancied that he was in some measure +moved by my words, and the refined beauty of his dark face was heightened +for a moment by the strange, sad look which flashed across it. Then he +rose and took up his riding-whip from the table. + +"A boyish enthusiasm," he remarked contemptuously, as he made his way +towards the door. "Where the cleverest detectives in England have failed, +you hope to succeed. Well, I wish you success. The rascal deserves to +swing, certainly. You will hear further from me in a day or two. +Good-morning!" + +He left the room abruptly and I followed him, stepping bareheaded out +into the sunshine to look about for Jim, who was leading his horse up and +down the road. + +When I returned, Mr. Ravenor was still standing upon the doorstep +watching me intently. + +"I am going back to speak to your mother for a moment," he said slowly, +withdrawing his eyes from my face at last. "No; stop where you are!" he +added imperatively. "I wish to speak to her alone." + +I obeyed him and wandered about the orchard until I saw him come out and +gallop furiously away across the park. Then I hurried into the house. + +"Mother!" I exclaimed, calling out to her before I had opened the door of +the parlour--"mother, what do you--" + +I stopped short and hurried to her side, alarmed at her appearance. Her +cheeks, even her lips, were ashen pale and her eyes were closed. She had +fainted in her chair. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. + AN ABODE OF MYSTERY. + + +For the first time in my life I was on my way to Ravenor Castle, summoned +there by a brief, imperious note from Mr. Ravenor. Often had I looked +longingly from the distant hills of the park upon its grey, rugged towers +and mighty battlements; but I had never dared to clamber over the high +wall into the inner grounds, nor even to make my way up the servants' +drive to win a closer acquaintance with it. + +One reason why I had abstained from doing what, on the face of it, would +seem a very natural thing to do, was a solemn promise to my mother, +extracted from me almost as soon as I was able to get about by myself, +never to pass within that great boundary-wall which completely encircled +the inner grounds and wardens of the castle. But, apart from that, the +thing would have been impossible for me, in any case. + +I have already said that Mr. Ravenor bore the character of being a +remarkably eccentric man. Perhaps one of the most striking manifestations +of this eccentricity lay in the rigid seclusion in which he chose to live +while at the Castle, and the extraordinary precautions which he had taken +to prevent all intruders and visitors of every sort from obtaining access +to him. + +From the outer part there was indeed no attempt to exclude anyone +belonging to the neighbourhood who chose to ramble about there, and in +Mr. Ravenor's absence visitors who had obtained permission from the +steward were occasionally permitted to drive through; but to the grounds +and the Castle itself access was simply an impossibility. Had Ravenor +Castle been the abode of a sovereign, and the country around in +possession of a hostile people, the precautions could scarcely have been +more rigorous. + +The high stone wall, which encircled the Castle and gardens for a circuit +of three-quarters of a mile, effectually shut them off from the outside +world. The postern-gates with which it was pierced were of solid iron, +and the locks which secured them were said to have been fashioned by a +Hindoo whom Mr. Ravenor had once brought home with him from India, and to +be perfectly unique in their design and workmanship. The two main +carriage entrances, about half a mile apart, were remarkable for nothing +but the fine proportions of the towering iron gates; but they were always +kept jealously locked and barred, and the fate of the uninvited guest who +presented himself there was inevitable. There was no admittance. + +The afternoon was drawing towards a close when I turned the last corner +of the winding avenue and approached the entrance. It had been a wild, +blustering day; but just before I started from home the wind had dropped +and a watery sun, feebly piercing the masses of heavy clouds with which +the sky was strewn, was shining down, with a wan, unnatural glow, upon +the clumps of fir-trees on either side of the way and the massive, +frowning towers of the Castle close above me. + +Under foot and around me everything was wet. With the faintest stir of +the dying breeze showers of raindrops fell from shrubs and trees, and at +every step my feet sank into the soft, soaked gravel, or sent the +moisture bubbling up from the layers of rotten leaves and twigs which the +morning's gale had scattered along the road. + +It was an afternoon to damp anyone's spirits; and it was perhaps to the +influence of the weather that I owed the sudden sinking of heart and +courage which came over me as I slackened my pace before the grim-looking +lodges and barred gate. I had started from home, notwithstanding my +mother's white face and nervous, trembling manner, in a state of +pleasurable excitement. + +I was about to penetrate into a mystery which had been the curiosity of +my boyhood; I was to become one of those favoured few who had been +permitted to pass within the portals of Ravenor Castle; and, more than +that, I was about to visit there as the guest of a man whose marvellous +reputation, personality, and career had kindled within me an almost +passionate reverence--a man who had long been the object of my devoted, +although boyish and unreasonable, hero-worship. Yet, though it would seem +that I had everything to gain and nothing to fear or lose from the coming +interview, no sooner had I arrived within sight of my destination than my +spirits sank to zero. + +A woman would have called it a presentiment and have accepted it with +mute despair. To me it seemed only an unreasonable reaction from my +previous state of suppressed excitement--a feeling to be crushed at any +cost, lest I should stand, with gloomy, unthankful face, before the man +in whose power it lay to raise me from my present distasteful position +and prospects. So I threw my head back and quickened my steps, keeping +resolutely before me in my thoughts all that I had ventured to hope from +my forthcoming interview; and by the time I stood before the great iron +gates and stretched out my hand to ring the bell, the depression had +almost passed away, and the eagerness which I felt was, no doubt, fully +reflected m my countenance. + +I had no need to ring. My last quick footstep had fallen upon a harder +substance than the gravel upon which I had been walking, and the contact +of my feet with it made my presence known in a manner which surprised me +not a little. There was a shrill ringing from the lodge door on my right, +and almost simultaneously it opened and a servant came out in the dark +Ravenor livery. + +"Will you be so good, sir, as to step off the planking?" he said. + +I moved a yard or two backwards, and the bell--it was an electric bell, +of course--instantly ceased. It was my first experience of any such means +of communication, and I stood for a moment looking down in some +bewilderment. + +"Your name and business, sir?" the man inquired respectfully. "Did you +wish to see Mr. Clemson?" Mr. Clemson was the steward. + +"My name is Morton, and my business is with Mr. Ravenor," I answered. "I +want to see him." + +"I am afraid that Mr. Ravenor will not be able to see you, sir," he said. +"Have you an appointment?" + +"Yes; for five o'clock," I answered. And the words had scarcely left my +lips before the first stroke of the hour boomed out from the great Castle +clock. Perhaps, more than anything else could have done, that sound +brought home to me the realisation of where I was. Hour after hour, all +through my life, from the depths of Rothland Wood, from the home meadows, +or in my long rambles over the far-away Barnwood Hills, I had heard those +deep, throbbing chimes; sometimes faint and low, when the wind bore the +sound away from me, sometimes harsh and piercing in the storm, and often +as dear and distinct as though only a sheet of water stretched between +us. And now I stood almost within a stone's throw of them, and marvelled +no longer that the deep, resounding notes should travel so far over hill +and moor that I had never yet been able to wander out of hearing of them. + +The man accepted my explanation after a moment's hesitation, and, +standing aside from the doorway out of which he had issued, motioned me +to enter. I did so and received a fresh surprise. Instead of finding +myself in the home of one of the servants of the estate, which would have +seemed the natural thing, I found myself in a most luxuriously furnished +waiting-room, hung with mirrors and oak-framed paintings upon a dark +panelled wall. My feet sank into a thick carpet, and I subsided, a little +dazed, into a low, crimson velvet chair, and found beside me a table +covered with magazines. + +The man followed me into the room, and, as he passed on his way to its +upper end, he wheeled towards me a smaller table on which were decanters +and glasses and a long box of cigarettes. Scarcely glancing at them, I +watched him unlock a tall cupboard and half vanish inside it. + +He remained there for a space of almost five minutes. Then he stepped +out, carefully locked it and advanced towards me. I fancied that there +was a shade more respect in his manner and certainly some surprise. + +"Mr. Ravenor's servant will be here in a few minutes, sir, to show you +the way to the Castle." + +I thought that I could have found it very well by myself, but, of course, +I could not say so. I occupied myself by examining the contents of the +room, and struggled for a few moments between a feeling of strong +curiosity and a natural disinclination to ask questions of a servant, +especially one whose manner seemed so little to invite them. Finally the +former conquered. + +"How did you find that out without leaving this room?" I asked. + +He pointed to the cupboard. + +"We have a telephone there in connection with the Castle, sir," he +explained. Then he busied himself arranging some papers on a table at the +other end of the apartment, with the obvious air of not desiring to be +questioned further. + +The explanation was so simple that I smiled. I began to realise the very +insufficient causes which had given rise to the stories which were always +floating about concerning the mystery in which the master of Ravenor +Castle chose to dwell. What more natural than that a man of liberal +education, with a passion for absolute solitude, should seek to insure it +by some such means as these, by the application of very simple scientific +devices, common enough in a city, but unheard of in our quiet country +neighbourhood? + +I was kept waiting for about a quarter of an hour. Then the door was +opened noiselessly from without and a tall, dark man, clean-shaven and +dressed in black, relieved by an immaculate white tie, entered and looked +at me. I rose to my feet and threw down the magazine which I had been +pretending to read. + +"You are Mr. Morton?" he inquired, in a subdued tone, glancing steadily +at me the while with somewhat puzzled, criticising gaze, which, perhaps +unreasonably, annoyed me extremely. It was an annoyance which I took +pains not to show, however, for something about the personality of the +man impressed me. His manner, though studiously respectful, was not +without a certain quiet dignity, and his thin oval face--thin almost to +emaciation--had in it more than a suspicion of refinement. My first +glance, whilst I was undergoing his brief scrutiny, assured me that this +was no ordinary servant. + +"That is my name," I answered. "You have come to take me to Mr. Ravenor?" + +"If you will be so good as to follow me, sir." + +I took up my cap and did so, taking long, swinging strides up the steep +ascent, hoping thereby to gain his side and ask him a few questions about +the place. But he prevented this by hurrying on when I was close behind +him; so, after the third attempt I gave it up, and contented myself by +looking around me as much as I could, and making the most of the short +walk. + +On one side of the drive--I had been along few highways as wide--was a +tall yew hedge, which shut out little from my view, for the thick black +pine-wood which overtopped and formed so striking a background to the +grand old Castle had never been thinned in this direction, and stretched +away in a wide, irregular belt, skirting the long line of out-buildings +to the hills and beyond. But on the right hand only a low ring-fence +separated us from the grounds immediately in front of the Castle, which a +sudden bend in the sharply winding road brought into full view. + +My absolute ignorance of architecture forbids my attempting to describe +it, save in its general effect. I remember even now what that effect was +upon me when I stood for the first time almost at its foot. At a distance +its frowning battlements and worn grey turrets had a majestic appearance; +but, standing as I did then, within a few hundred yards of its vast, +imposing front, and almost under the shadow of its walls and towers, its +effect was nothing short of awe-inspiring. + +I almost held my breath as I gazed upon it and the terrace lawns, sloping +away below, smooth-shaven, velvetty, the very perfection of English turf. +Not that I had much time to look about me. On the contrary, my conductor +never once slackened his pace, and when I involuntarily paused for a +moment, with eyes riveted upon the magnificent pile before me, he looked +round sharply and beckoned me impatiently to proceed. + +"Mr. Ravenor is not used to be kept waiting, sir," he remarked, "and will +be expecting us." + +I pulled myself together with an effort and followed him more closely. We +passed under a bridge of solid masonry, moss-encrusted, and indented with +the storms of ages and the ruder marks of battering-ram and cannon, +across a wide, circular courtyard protected by massive iron gates, which +rolled slowly open before us with many ponderous creakings and gratings, +as though reluctant to admit a stranger, into a great, white, stone-paved +hall, dimly lighted, yet sufficiently so to enable me to perceive the +long rows of armoured warriors which lined the walls, and the lances and +spears and shields which flashed above their heads. + +We passed straight across it, our footsteps awakening clattering echoes +as they fell on the polished flags, through a door on the opposite side, +into a room which nearly took my breath away. From the high, vaulted +ceiling to the floor, on every side of the apartment, were books--nothing +but books. + +Two men--one old, the other of about my own age--looked up from a table +as we entered and paused in their work, which seemed to be cataloguing; +but my guide passed them without remark or notice, and walked straight +across the room to where a crimson curtain, hanging down in thick folds, +concealed a black oak door. Here he knocked, and I waited by his side +until the answer came in that clear, low tone, which, though I had heard +it but once or twice before, I could have recognised in a thousand. Then +my guide turned the handle and, silently motioning me to enter, left me. + + + + + CHAPTER IX. + MR. MARX. + + +At first I had eyes only for the dark figure seated a few yards away from +me at a small writing-table drawn into the centre of the room. He was +bending low over his desk and never even raised his eyes or ceased +writing at my entrance. Before him on the table, and scattered around his +chair on the floor, were many sheets of white foolscap covered with his +broad, firm handwriting, some with the ink scarcely dry upon them; and +while I stood before him he impatiently swept another one from his desk +and, without waiting to see it flutter to the ground, began a fresh +sheet. + +A glass of water, a few dry biscuits, and a little pile of books--some +turned face-downwards--were by his side. Nothing else was on the table, +save a great pile of unused paper, a watch detached from its chain, and a +heavily-shaded lamp, which threw a ghastly light upon his white, worn +face, and his dry, brilliant eyes, under which were faintly engraven the +dark rims of the student. + +I watched him for a while, fascinated. Then, as he took not the slightest +notice of me, my eyes began to wander round the room. It was hexagonal +and, on every side save one, lined from the floor to the high ceiling +with books. The furniture was all of black oak, as also were the +bookshelves, and the carpet and hangings were of a deep olive-green. The +mantelpiece and inlaid grate were of black marble, faintly relieved with +gold, and within the polished bars of the grate a small fire was burning. + +There was nothing cheerful about the apartment; on the contrary, it +struck me as being, though magnificent, sombre and heavy, wrapped as it +was in the gloom of a dismal twilight, which the flickering fire and the +shaded lamp failed to pierce. From the high French windows, I could catch +a glimpse of a long stretch of soddened lawn, beyond which everything was +shrouded in the semi-obscurity of the fast-falling dusk, deepened by the +grey, cloudy sky. But I chose, after my first glance around the room, to +keep my eyes fixed upon the man who sat writing before me, the man in +whom already I felt an interest so strong as to deaden all the curiosity +which I might otherwise have felt as to my surroundings. + +At last he seemed conscious of my presence. Lifting his eyes, to give +them a momentary rest, he encountered my fixed gaze. For a moment he +looked at me in a puzzled manner, as though wondering how I came there. +Then his expression changed and, putting down his pen, he pushed his +papers away from him. + +"So you have come, Philip Morton," he said. + +To so self-evident a statement I could return no answer, save a brief +affirmative. He seemed to expect nothing more, however. + +"How old did you say you were?" he asked abruptly. + +"Seventeen, sir." + +It was quite five minutes before he spoke again, during which time he sat +with knitted brows and eyes fixed intently but absently upon me, deep in +thought, and thought of which it seemed to me somehow that I must be the +subject. + +"Where were you born?" + +"At the farm, sir--at least, I suppose so." + +It flashed into my mind at that moment that I had never heard the period +of my earliest childhood spoken of either by my father or mother. But it +was only a passing thought, dismissed almost as soon as conceived. Had we +not always lived at the farm? Where else could I have been born? + +"Do you know any of your mother's relations?" Mr. Ravenor asked, taking +no notice of the qualifying addition to my previous answer. + +I shook my head. I had never seen or heard of any of them, and it was a +circumstance upon which I had more than once pondered. But my mother's +reserved demeanour towards me of late years had checked many questions +which I might otherwise have felt inclined to ask her. There was a brief +silence, during which Mr. Ravenor sat with his face half turned away from +me, resting it lightly upon the long, delicate fingers of his left hand. + +"You are a little young for college," he said presently, in a more +matter-of-fact tone; "besides which, I doubt whether you are quite +advanced enough. I have decided, therefore, to send you for two years to +a clergyman in Lincolnshire who receives a few pupils, my own nephew +among them. He is a friend of mine, and will give some shape to your +studies. There are one or two things which I shall ask you to remember +when you get there," he went on. + +"First, that this little arrangement between your mother, yourself, and +me remains absolutely a secret among us. Also that you seek, or, at any +rate, do not refuse, the friendship of my nephew, Cecil, Lord Silchester. +From what I can learn I fear that he is behaving in a most unsatisfactory +manner, and, as I know him to be weak-minded and easily led, his +behaviour at present and his character in the future are to a great +extent dependent upon the influence which his immediate companions may +have over him. You understand me?" + +I assented silently, for words at that moment were not at my command; my +cheeks were flushed, and my heart was beating with pleasure at the +confidence in me which Mr. Ravenor's words implied. That moment was one +of the sweetest of my life. + +"I do not, of course, wish you to play the spy in any way upon my +nephew," Mr. Ravenor continued, "but I shall expect you to tell me the +unbiassed truth should I at any time ask you any questions concerning +him; and if you think, after you have been there some time and have had +an opportunity of judging, that he would be likely to do better +elsewhere, under stricter discipline than at Dr. Randall's, I shall +expect you to tell me so. In plain words, Philip Morton, I ask you to +take an interest in and look after my nephew." + +"I will do my best, sir," I answered fervently. + +"A youthful Mentor, very!" + +The words, accompanied by something closely resembling a sneer, came from +neither Mr. Ravenor nor myself. Either a third person must have been in +the room before my arrival and during the whole of our conversation, or +he must have entered it since by some means unknown to me, for almost at +my elbow, on the side remote from the door, stood the man who had broken +in, without apology or explanation, upon our interview. + +Both from the strange manner of his attire and on account of his +personality, I could not repress a strong curiosity in the new-comer. He +was above the average height, but of awkward and ungainly figure, its +massiveness enhanced by the long black dressing-gown which was wrapped +loosely around him. His hair and beard were of a deep reddish hue, the +former partly concealed by a black silk skull-cap, and he wore thick blue +spectacles, which by no means added to the attractiveness of his face; +his features--those which were visible--were good, but their effect was +completely spoilt by the disfiguring glasses and his curious complexion. +There was an air of power about him difficult to analyse, but +sufficiently apparent, which altogether redeemed him from coarseness, or +even mediocrity; and his voice, too, was good. But my impressions +concerning him were very mixed ones. + +He was evidently someone of account in the household, for he stood on the +hearthrug with his hands thrust into his loose pockets, completely at his +ease, and without making any apology for his unceremonious appearance. +When I first turned to look at him he was examining me with a cold, +critical stare, which made me feel uncomfortable without knowing why. + +"Who is the young gentleman?" he asked, turning to Mr. Ravenor. "Won't +you introduce me?" + +Mr. Ravenor took up some papers lying on the table before him and began +to sort them. + +"It is Philip Morton, the son of the man who was murdered in Rothland +Wood," he answered quietly. "I am going to undertake his education." + +"Indeed! You're becoming quite a philanthropist," was the reply. "But why +not send him to a public school at once?" + +"Because a public school would be just the worst place for him," Mr. +Ravenor answered coldly. "His education has been good enough up to now, I +dare say, but it has not been systematic. It wants shape and proportion, +and Dr. Randall is just the man to see to that." + +The new-comer shrugged his shoulders. + +"I don't believe in private tutors," he remarked. + +"That scarcely affects the question," Mr. Ravenor answered, a little +haughtily. "Are you ready for me, Marx?" + +"I shall be presently. I had very nearly finished when the sound of +voices tempted me out to see whom you had admitted into your august +presence. You have not completed the introduction." + +Mr. Ravenor turned to me with a slight frown upon his fine forehead. + +"Morton," he said, "this is Mr. Marx, my private secretary and +collaborator." + +We exchanged greetings, and I looked at him with revived interest. The +man who was worthy to work with Mr. Ravenor must be a scholar indeed, +and, on the whole, Mr. Marx looked it. I almost forgave him his +supercilious speech and patronising manner. + +"You have quite settled, then, to send this young man to Dr. Randall's?" +Mr. Marx said calmly. + +"I have. There are one or two more matters which I have not yet mentioned +to him, so I shall be glad to see you again in half an hour," Mr. Ravenor +remarked, glancing at his watch. + +Mr. Marx nodded to me in a not unfriendly manner, and, lifting a curtain, +which I had not noticed before, disappeared into a smaller apartment. + +Mr. Ravenor waited until he was out of hearing and then turned towards +me. + +"I do not know whether it is necessary for me to mention it, as you may +possibly not come into contact again," he said slowly; "but in case you +should do so, remember this: I wish you to have as little to do with Mr. +Marx as possible. You--" + +He broke off suddenly and I started and looked round, half amazed, half +frightened. The continuous sound of an electric-bell, which seemed to +come from within a few feet of me, was echoing through the room. + + + + + CHAPTER X. + LADY SILCHESTER. + + +Mr. Ravenor sat like a man stunned by a sudden shock, while the shrill +ringing grew more and more imperative. Then suddenly, when I least +expected it, he spoke, and the fact that his calm, even tone betrayed not +the slightest sign of agitation or anything approaching to it, was a +great relief to me. After all, his silence might have meant indifference. + +"Go over there," he said, pointing to the corner of the room from which +the sound came. + +I did so and saw just before me what seemed to be a dark mahogany box let +into the wall. + +"Touch that knob," he commanded, "and put your ear to the tube." + +I had scarcely done so when a quick, agitated voice, which I recognised +as the voice of the man who had admitted me at the lodge gate, began +speaking. I repeated his words to Mr. Ravenor. + +"I am very sorry, sir; but while I stepped in here to announce her, Lady +Silchester has driven through. She is alone." + +Mr. Ravenor made no sign of annoyance or surprise. I could not tell +whether the news was a relief to him, or the reverse. + +"Is there any answer, sir?" I inquired. + +"Yes. Tell him to come to the steward for his wages in an hour's time and +be prepared to leave this evening." + +I hesitated and then repeated the words. Mr. Ravenor watched me keenly. + +"You are thinking that I am a stern master," he said abruptly. + +It was exactly what had been passing through my mind and I confessed it. +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"I like to be obeyed implicitly, and to the letter," he said. "If a +quarter of the people who present themselves here to see me were allowed +to pass through to my Castle, my leisure, which is of some value to me, +would be continually broken in upon. Anderson has been careful hitherto, +however, and this must be a lesson to him. You can tell him as you go out +that I will give him one more chance." + +I rose, with my cap in hand, but he waved me back. + +"I have a letter to write to your mother," he said, drawing some +notepaper towards him. "Wait a minute or two." + +I strolled over to the high French windows and looked out upon the grey +twilight. I had scarcely stood there for a moment when the sound of +horses' feet and smoothly rolling wheels coming up the broad drive told +me that Mr. Ravenor's visitor was at hand, and immediately afterwards a +small brougham flashed past the window and, describing a semi-circle, +pulled up in front of the hall door. A footman leaped down from the box +and several servants stood on the steps and respectfully saluted the lady +who had alighted from the carriage. A moment or two later there was a +knock at the door. + +"Come in," answered Mr. Ravenor, without looking up, or even ceasing his +writing, for I could hear the broad quill dashing away without a pause +over the notepaper. + +A servant threw open the door and announced "Lady Silchester," and a tall +woman, wrapped from head to foot in dark brown furs, swept past him and +entered the room. + +A single glance at the slim, majestic figure, and at the classical +outline of her face, told me who she was and told me rightly. It was Mr. +Ravenor's sister. + +Mr. Ravenor rose and, without putting his pen down, welcomed Lady +Silchester with cold, frigid courtesy, which she seemed determined, +however, not to notice. + +"Quite an unexpected visit, this, isn't it?" she exclaimed, sinking into +an easy chair before the fire with a little shiver. "I never was so cold! +These autumn mists are awful, and I've had a twelve-mile drive. What a +dreary room you have made of this!" she added, looking round with a +little shrug of her shoulders and putting her hands farther into her +muff. "How can you sit here in this ghostly light with only one lamp--and +such a fire, too?" + +He smiled grimly, but it was not a smile which heralded any increase of +geniality in his manner. + +"I am not in the habit of receiving ladies here," he remarked, "and I did +not expect you. Where have you come from? I thought you were in Rome." + +She shook her head. + +"I wish we were. We came back last week and I went straight down to the +Cedars--Tom's place at Melton, you know. I don't think I've been warm +since I landed in England. Just now I'm nearly frozen to death." + +"I think you would find one of the rooms in the other wing more +comfortable," he said, after a short pause; "besides which I am engaged +at present. You dine here, of course?" + +"By all means," she answered. "You wouldn't send me back to Melton +dinnerless, would you, even if I have come without an invitation? I am +dying for a cup of tea." + +"Mrs. Ross shall send you anything you want," he said. "I will ring for +her." + +She rose and shook out her skirts. Her eyes fell upon me. + +"You have a visitor," she remarked. "I'm sorry I disturbed you." + +She looked at me fixedly as I moved a few steps forward out of the deep +shadows which hung about the further end of the apartment. Then she +turned from me to Mr. Ravenor, who was holding open the door for her. He +met her gaze steadily, with a calm, inquiring look in his deep eyes, as +though wondering why she lingered. + +"Won't you introduce your visitor?" she asked slowly. + +He appeared wishful for her to go, yet resigned. + +"Certainly," he answered, "if you wish it. Cecilia, let me present to you +Mr. Philip Morton, the son of a former neighbour of mine. You may be +interested to hear that Mr. Morton is about to complete his education +with Dr. Randall. Morton, this is my sister, Lady Silchester." + +Lady Silchester held up a pair of gold eye-glasses and looked at me +steadily. I was not used to ladies, but Lady Silchester's manner did not +please me, and, after a very slight bow, I drew myself up and returned +her gaze without flinching. She turned abruptly away. + +"Yes, I am interested--a little surprised," she said, in a peculiar tone. +"Let me congratulate you, my dear brother, on----" + +"Did I understand you to say that you would be ready in a quarter of an +hour, Cecilia?" he interrupted calmly. "Permit me to order your horses to +be put up." And he moved across the room towards the bell and rang it. + +She hesitated, bit her lip, and turned towards the door without another +word. A servant stood upon the threshold, summoned by the bell. + +"Let Mrs. Ross attend Lady Silchester at once," Mr. Ravenor ordered. "Her +ladyship will take tea in her room, and will dine with me in the library +at half-past eight." + +"Very good, sir." + +The door was closed and we were alone again. Mr. Ravenor returned to his +letter, with his lips slightly parted in a quiet smile. I stood still, +hot and uncomfortable, wondering in what possible manner I could have +offended Lady Silchester. The meaning of the little scene which had just +taken place was beyond my comprehension. But I knew that it had a +meaning, and that I was somehow concerned in it. + + + + + CHAPTER XI. + THE CRY IN THE AVENUE. + + +The letter which Mr. Ravenor had been writing to my mother was finished +and sealed at last. Then he leaned back in his chair and looked steadily +at me. + +"I shall not see you again before you go, Philip Morton," he said, "so I +wish to impress upon you once more what I said to you about my nephew, +who is Lady Silchester's son, by-the-bye. I know that he is going on +badly, but I wish to know how badly. Unfortunately, he has no father, +and, from what I can remember of him, I should imagine that he is quite +easily led, and would be very amenable to the influence of a stronger +mind. If yours should be that mind--and I do not see why it should +not--it will be well for him. That delightfully Utopian optimism of yours +is, at any rate, healthy," he added dryly. + +I felt my cheeks burn and would have spoken, but Mr. Ravenor checked me. + +"Let there be no misunderstanding between us," he said. "I desire no +gratitude from you and I deserve none. What I am doing I am doing for my +own gratification--perhaps for my own ultimate advantage. That you are a +gainer by it is purely a matter of chance. The whim might just as well +have been the other way. I might have taken a fancy to have you turned +out of the place and, if so, I would have done it. On the whole, it is I +who should be grateful to you for not baulking me in my scheme and for +letting me have my own way. So understand, please, after this +explanation, that I shall look upon any expression of gratitude from you +as a glaring mark of imbecility, apart from which it will annoy me +exceedingly." + +I listened in silence. What could one reply to such a strange way of +putting a case? Mr. Ravenor's manner forbade any doubt as to his +seriousness and I could only respect his wishes. + +"As you won't let me thank you, sir, I think I'd better go," I said +bluntly. "I'm sure to forget if I stay here much longer." + +"A good discipline for you to stay, then," he answered. + +Again the tinkle of the telephone bell rang out from the corner and +interrupted his speech. Mr. Ravenor motioned me towards it. + +"Go and hear what it is and repeat it to me," he said. + +I put my ear to the tube and repeated the words as they came: + +"A man desires to see you, sir, but refuses to give his name. I have told +him that it is quite useless my communicating with you without it; but he +is persistent and refuses to go away. He is respectably dressed, but +rather rough-looking." + +Mr. Ravenor shrugged his shoulders and took up his pen, as though about +to resume his writing. + +"Tell him to go to the deuce!" he said briefly. + +I repeated the message faithfully, but its recipient was evidently not +satisfied. In less than a minute the bell sounded again. + +"His name is Richards, sir--or, rather, he says he is known to you by +that name--and he is very emphatic about seeing you--and, begging your +pardon, sir, a little insolent. He says that his business is of the +utmost importance." + +I repeated the message and stood as though turned to stone. Was my fancy +playing tricks with me in the dimly-lit room, or had Mr. Ravenor's face +really become ghastly and livid, like the face of a man who sees the +phantom shadows of a hideous nightmare passing before his fixed gaze? I +closed my eyes for a moment's relief and looked again. Surely it had been +fancy! Mr. Ravenor was writing with only a slight frown upon his calm, +serene face. + +"Let Mr. Richards--or whatever the fellow's name is--be given to +understand that I distinctly refuse to see him," he said quietly. "If he +has any business with me he can write." + +I repeated this and then took up my cap to go. Mr. Ravenor put down his +pen and walked with me to the door. I had expected that he would have +offered me his hand, but he did not. He nodded, kindly enough and held +the door open while I passed out. So I went. + +As I walked across the great hall on my way out I came face to face with +Lady Silchester, who was thoughtfully contemplating one of a long line of +oil-paintings dark with age, yet vivid still with the marvellous +colouring of an old master. To my surprise she stopped me. + +"Are you a judge of pictures, Mr. Morton?" she asked. "I was wondering +whether that was a genuine Reynolds." And she pointed to the picture +which she had been examining. + +I shook my head, briefly acknowledging that I knew nothing whatever about +them. I was quite conscious at the time that the question was only a +feint. What was a farmer's son likely to know of the old masters? + +"Ah, never mind!" she remarked, shutting up her eyeglasses with a snap. +"I can ask Mr. Ravenor this evening. I thought, perhaps, that as you were +here so often he might have talked to you about them. I know that he is +very proud of his pictures." + +"Had I been here often he might have done so," I answered. "As it +happens, however, this is my first visit to Ravenor Castle." + +"Indeed? And yet Mr. Ravenor seems to take a great interest in you. Why?" + +I hesitated and wished that I could get away; but Lady Silchester was +standing immediately in front of me. + +"Your ladyship will pardon me," I said, "but might not your question be +better addressed to Mr. Ravenor?" + +She bit her lip and moved haughtily to one side. I made a movement as +though to pass her, but she turned suddenly and prevented me. + +"Mr. Morton," she said, a little nervously, "my brother said that you +were going to Dr. Randall's, I believe?" + +I admitted that such was the fact. + +"I daresay you know that my son is there," she continued, "and I am +afraid he's not behaving exactly as he should. Of course, we don't hear +anything definite; but Cecil is very good-natured, easily led into +anything, and I am a little doubtful about his companions there. Now, Mr. +Morton, you're not much more than a boy yourself, of course; but you +don't look as though you would care for the sort of thing that I'm afraid +Cecil gets led into. I do wish that you and he could be friends, and +that--that--" + +She broke off, as though expecting me to say something, and I felt a +little awkward. + +"It's very kind of you to think so well of me, when you don't know +anything about me," I said, twirling my cap in my hands; "but you forget +that I am only a farmer's son, and perhaps your son would not care to be +friends with me." + +"My son, whatever his faults may be, has all the instincts of a +gentleman," Lady Silchester answered proudly; "and if he liked you for +yourself, it would make no difference, even if you were a tradesman's +son. Promise me that, if you have the opportunity, you will do what you +can?" + +"Oh, yes; I'll promise that, with pleasure!" I assured her. + +Lady Silchester smiled, and while the smile lasted I thought that I had +never seen a more beautiful woman. Then she held out a delicate little +hand, sparkling with rings, and placed it in mine, which in those days +was as brown as a berry and not very soft. + +"Thank you so much, Mr. Morton." + +She looked up at me quite kindly for a moment. Then suddenly her manner +completely--changed. She withdrew her eyes from my face, with a slight +flush in her cheeks, and turned abruptly away. + +"Good evening, Mr. Morton. I am much obliged to you for your promise," +she said, in a colder tone. + +I drew myself up, unconscious of having said or done anything which could +possibly offend her, and feeling boyishly hurt at her change of manner. + +"Good evening, Lady Silchester," I answered, with all the dignity I could +command. Then I turned away and left the Castle. + +I walked down the broad avenue slowly, casting many glances behind me at +the vast, gloomy pile, around which the late evening mists were rising +from the damp ground. Many lights were twinkling from the upper windows +and from the east wing, where the servants' quarters were situated, but +the lower part of the building lay in a deep obscurity, unilluminated, +save by one faint light from Mr. Ravenor's study. There seemed something +unnatural, almost ghostly, about the place, which chilled while it +fascinated me. + +What was that? I stood suddenly still in the middle of the drive and +listened. A faint, muffled cry, which seemed to me at first to be a human +cry, had broken the deep evening stillness. I held my breath and remained +quite motionless, with strained hearing. There was no repetition of it, +no other sound. I was puzzled; more than half inclined to be alarmed. It +might have been the crying of a hare, or the squealing of a rabbit caught +by a stoat. But my first impression had been a strong one, improbable +though it seemed. Poachers, however daring, would scarcely be likely to +invade the closely-guarded inner grounds, where the preserves were fewer +and the risk of capture far greater than outside the park. Besides, there +had been no discharge of firearms, no commotion, no loud cries; only that +one muffled, despairing moan. What could it mean? + +A steep ascent lay before me. After a moment's hesitation I hurried +forward and did not pause until I reached the summit and had clear view +around through the hazy twilight. + + + + + CHAPTER XII. + A DARK CORNER IN THE AVENUE. + + +Far away below me--for Ravenor Castle stood on the highest point in the +country--a dull-red glow in the sky, and many twinkling lights stretched +far and wide, marked the place where a great town lay. On my right hand +was a smooth stretch of green turf, dotted all over with thickly growing +spreading oak trees. On the left was a straggling plantation, bounded by +a low greystone wall, which sloped down gradually to one of the +bracken-covered, disused slate-quarries, with which the neighbourhood +abounded. + +Breathless, I stood still and looked searchingly around. Save in the +immediate vicinity, the fast falling night had blotted out the view, +reducing fields, woods, and rocks to one blurred chaotic mass. But where +my eye could pierce the darkness I could see no sign of any moving +object. By degrees my apprehension grew less strong. The cry, if it had +not been wholly a trick of the imagination, must have been the cry of +some animal. I drew a long breath of relief and moved forward again. + +Immediately in front of me the avenue curved through a small plantation +of fir trees, which, growing thick and black on either side, made it +appear almost as though I were confronted with a tunnel; around its mouth +the darkness was intense, but my eyesight, always good, had by this time +become quite accustomed to the uncertain light, and just as I was +entering it I fancied that I could see something moving only a few yards +in front of me. I stopped short at once and waited, peering forwards into +the gloom with straining eyes and beating heart. My suspense, though +keen, was not of long duration, for almost immediately the dark shape +resolved itself into the figure of a man moving swiftly towards me. + +My first impulse was, I am afraid, to turn and run for it, my next to +give the advancing figure as wide a berth as possible. With that idea I +stepped swiftly on one side and leaned right back against the ring fence +which bordered the drive. But I was too late, or too clumsy in my +movements, to escape notice. With a quick, startled exclamation, the man +whom I had nearly run into stopped and, just at that moment the moon, +which had been struggling up from behind a thick mass of angry clouds, +shone feebly out and showed me the white, scared face of Mr. Ravenor's +secretary. + +"Good heavens!" + +It seemed to me as though the ejaculation was hurled out from those +trembling lips. Then, with a sudden start, he recovered himself, and so +changed was his manner that I could almost have fancied that his first +emotion of terror had been imagination on my part. + +"Am I so formidable that you should leap out of my way as though you had +seen a ghost?" he said, with a short laugh. "Come, come; a young man of +your size should have more pluck than that." + +I felt rather ashamed of myself, but I answered him as carelessly as +possible. + +"I don't think I was any more startled than you were. We came upon one +another suddenly, and it's a very dark night." + +"Dark! Dark is not the word. This part of the drive is a veritable +Hades." + +"By-the-bye, Mr. Marx," I remarked, "I fancied that I heard a cry a few +min----" + +"A cry! What sort of a cry?" he interrupted sharply, in an altered tone. + +"Well, it sounded to me very much like the moan of a man in pain," I +explained, looking half fearfully around. "Of course, it might have been +a hare, but it was wonderfully like a human voice. Listen! Can't you hear +something now?" I cried, laying my hand upon his arm. + +We stood close together in silence, listening intently. A faint wind had +sprung up, and was sighing mournfully through the trees, which were +soaked and weighed down by the heavy rain. Drip, drip, drip. At every +sigh of the breeze a little shower of rain-drops fell pattering on to the +soddened leaves and the melancholy music was resumed. + +It was altogether very depressing and I was palpably shivering. + +"I can hear nothing," he said, with chattering teeth. "It must have been +your fancy, or a hare squealing, perhaps." + +"I suppose so," I admitted, glad enough to be forced into this +conclusion. + +"I wouldn't say anything about it at the lodge," he remarked, preparing +to depart. "Anderson is as nervous as a cat already." + +"All right, I won't. Good night." + +"You're not frightened, are you?" he asked. "If you like, I'll walk down +to the lodge with you." + +"Not in the least, thanks," I answered, a little indignantly. "I thought +that noise was queer, that's all. Good night." + +I walked swiftly away, listening all the time, but hearing no unusual +sound. In a few minutes I reached the gates and found Anderson waiting +about outside. He let me through at once. + +"May I go in here for a minute?" I asked, pointing to the room in which I +had been kept waiting on my way up to the Castle. "I have a message to +give you from Mr. Ravenor." + +"Certainly, sir," he answered, opening the door. I stepped inside, half +expecting to see the man whom Mr. Ravenor had refused to receive; but it +was quite empty. + +"So Mr. Richards has decided not to wait, after all?" I remarked, looking +round. "He was wise. I'm sure Mr. Ravenor wouldn't have seen him." + +"Yes, sir," the man answered; "he slipped out without leaving any message +or anything, while I had gone across the way for some coal. I was a bit +taken aback when I returned and found the place empty, for he'd been +swearing ever so a minute or two before that he'd see Mr. Ravenor, or +stop here for ever." + +"He can't have gone on up to the Castle, can he?" I asked, looking +around. + +The man shook his head confidently. + +"Impossible, sir! The gates were locked and the keys in my pocket, and +there are no windows to this room, you see, on the Castle side." + +"But there is a door," I said, pointing to the upper end of the +apartment. + +"Go and look at it, sir," Anderson answered, smiling. + +I did so and examined it closely. There were no bolts, but it was +fastened with a particularly strong patent lock. + +"Who keeps the key?" I inquired. + +"Mr. Ravenor, sir. I haven't got one at all. You were saying something +about a message?" + +"Yes. Mr. Ravenor was annoyed with you for letting Lady Silchester +through, but he has decided to overlook it this time. You need not go up +to the Castle for your money." + +The man was evidently pleased. + +"I'm sure I'm very much obliged to you, sir," he said warmly. "That's +good news and no mistake. It isn't a place that one would care to lose." + +"Well, good night, Anderson. Oh, I say," I added, turning back on a +sudden impulse, "how long is it since Mr. Marx was here?" + +Anderson looked puzzled. + +"Mr. Marx, sir! Why, I haven't seen him all day!" + +"What!" I exclaimed. + +"I haven't seen him all day. He hasn't been here," the man repeated. + +I stood still, breathless, full of swiftly rising but vague suspicions. + +"Not seen him to-day! Why, I met him in the avenue just now," I declared. + +"I daresay, sir," the man remarked quietly. "He often walks down this +way. In fact, he does most evenings before dinner. Queer sort he is, and +no mistake." + +The man's words changed the current of my thoughts, and my half-conceived +suspicions faded away almost before they had gathered shape. I made some +trifling remark and started homewards. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII. + THE CLOUD BETWEEN US. + + +It was late when I reached home and, from the darkness in all the +windows, I concluded that my mother and the one country domestic who +comprised our little household had already retired. My hand was raised to +rap at the closed door, when it occurred to me that I might just as well +effect an entrance without disturbing anyone. Our sitting-room window +opened on to the front garden in which I stood and was seldom fastened, +so I stole softly over the sodden grass and pressed the sash upwards. It +yielded easily to my touch and, gently raising myself on to the low stone +window-sill, I vaulted into the room. + +At first I thought it was, as I had expected to find it, empty. But it +was not so. Through the open window by which I had just entered the +moonlight was streaming in, casting long, fantastic rays upon the +well-worn carpet and across the quaint, old-fashioned furniture and on +the white tablecloth, on which my homely evening meal had been left +prepared. But my eyes never rested for a moment on any of these familiar +objects, scarcely even noticed them, for another and a stranger sight +held me spellbound. At the farther end of the room, where the shadows +hung darkest and the moonbeams but feebly penetrated, was the kneeling +figure of a woman. + +Her perfectly black dress threw the ghastly hue of her strained, wild +face into startling prominence, and her slender arms were stretched +passionately upwards in a gesture full of intense dramatic pathos. Her +eyes were fixed upon a small ebony crucifix which hung against the wall, +and the words were bursting from her white, trembling lips, but whether +of prayer or confession, I could not, or, rather, would not, hear, for I +closed my eyes and the sound of her voice reached me only in an +indistinct moan. It was a sight which has lived in my memory and will +never fade. + +Since that awful night in Rothland Wood, my mother's behaviour towards me +had been a source of constant and painful wonder. She had become an +enigma, and an enigma which I somehow felt that it would be well for me +not to attempt to solve. + +But even at the times when my loveless surroundings and her coldness had +plunged me into the lowest depths of depression, it had never been an +altogether hopeless state, for somehow I had always felt that her +coldness was not the coldness of indifference, but rather an effort of +will, and that a time would come when she would cast it off and be to me +again the mother of my earlier recollections. But the change was long in +coming. + +She was a devout Roman Catholic--a religion in which I had not been +brought up--and in all weathers and at all times of the year, she paid +long and frequent visits to the monastery chapel over the hills. But to +see her as she was now was a revelation to me. I had seen her pray +before, but never like this. She had always seemed to me more of a martyr +than a sinner and her prayers more the prayers of reverent devotion than +of passionate supplication. But her attitude at this moment, her wild, +haggard face, and imploring eyes, were full of revelation to me. Another +possible explanation of her lonely, joyless life and deep religious +devotion flashed in upon me. Might it not be the dreary expiation, the +hard penance of her church meted out for sin? + +Half fearing to disturb her, I remained for a brief while silent, but, as +the minutes went on, the sight of her agony was too much for me and I +cried out to her: + +"Mother, I am here. I did not know that you were up! I came in through +the window!" + +At the first sound of my appealing tones her face changed, as though +frozen suddenly from passionate expressiveness to cold marble. Slowly she +rose to her feet and confronted me. + +"Mother, are you in trouble?" I said softly, moving nearer to her; +"cannot I share your sorrow? Cannot I comfort you? Why am I shut out of +your life so? Tell me this great trouble of yours and let me share it." + +For many years I had longed to say these words to her, but the cold +impressiveness of her manner had checked them often upon my lips and +thrust them back to my aching heart. Now, when a great sorrow filled her +face with a softer light and loosened for a moment its hard, rigid lines, +I dared to yield to the impulse which I had so often felt--and, alas! in +vain--in vain! + +Keener agony, deeper disappointment, I have never felt. Coldness and +indifference had been hard to bear, but what came now was worse. She +shrank back from me--shrank back, with her hands outstretched towards me +and her head averted. + +"Philip, I did not know that you were here. I cannot talk to you now. Go +to your room. To-morrow--to-morrow!" + +Her voice died away, but her sudden weakness inspired me with no hope, +for it was a physical weakness only. There were no signs of softening in +her face, no answering tenderness in her tones. So what could I do but +go? + + + + + CHAPTER XIV. + A MEETING IN THE COFFEE-ROOM. + + +It was eleven o'clock on the following morning. I had been reading in the +garden for some time, and was just thinking of starting for a walk, when +a dogcart from the Castle stopped at the gate, and Mr. Ravenor's +servant--the man who had conducted me from the lodge to the Castle--was +shown into the house. I went to him at once and he handed me a note. + +"Mr. Ravenor has sent you this, sir," he said respectfully. + +I tore it open and read (there was no orthodox commencement): + +"Before going to Dr. Randall's there are a few things which you are not +likely to have which you will find necessary. Remember that it is part of +the education which I intend for you that you should associate with the +other pupils on equal terms. Therefore, be so good as to go into +Torchester with Reynolds and place yourself entirely in his hands. He has +my full instructions.--R." + +I folded the note up and put it into my pocket. + +"Am I to come with you now?" I asked. + +"If you please, sir." + +I went upstairs to get ready and in a few minutes was prepared to start. +The groom offered me the reins, but I declined them and mounted instead +to the vacant seat by his side, which Reynolds had silently relinquished +to me. + +Torchester was scarcely a dozen miles from the farm, but, nevertheless, +this was my first visit to it. Many a time I had looked down from Beacon +Hill upon the wide-spreading, dirty-coloured cloud of smoke from its tall +factory chimneys, which seemed like a marring blot upon the fair, +peaceful stretch of country around, and by night at the dull red glow in +the sky and the myriads of twinkling lights which showed me where it +stood. But neither by day nor night had the scene been an attractive one +for me. I had felt no curiosity to enter it. I had never even cared to +figure to myself what it would be like. + +So now, for the first time in my life, I found myself driving through the +streets of a large manufacturing town. It was the dinner-hour and on all +sides the factories were disgorging streams of unhealthy-looking men and +women and even children. The tramcars and omnibuses were crowded, the +busy streets were lined with swiftly rolling carriages, smart-looking +men, and gaily-dressed girls and women. Within a few yards I saw types of +men and women so different that it seemed impossible that they could be +of the same species. + +"This is the 'Bell,' sir, where we generally put up," remarked Reynolds, +at my elbow. "You will have some lunch, sir, before we go into the town?" + +I shook my head, but he was quietly though respectfully insistent. So I +let him have his way and allowed myself to be piloted into a long, dark +coffee-room, where my orders, considerably augmented by Reynolds in +transit, were received by a waiter whom we discovered fast asleep in an +easy-chair, and who seemed very much surprised to see us. + +Afterwards we went out in the town, Reynolds and I, and began our +shopping. I was measured at the principal tailor's for more clothes than +it seemed possible for me to wear out in a lifetime, from riding-breeches +to a dress-coat; and the quantity and variety of hats, boots, shirts, and +ties which Reynolds put down as indispensable filled me with half-amused +astonishment, although I had made up my mind to be surprised at nothing. +But our shopping was not finished even when Reynolds, to my inexpressible +relief, declared my wardrobe to be as complete as could be furnished by a +provincial town. The gunsmith's, the sporting emporium, and the +horse-repository were all visited in turn. And when we returned to the +hotel about six o'clock I was the possessor of two guns, which were a +perfect revelation to me, a cricket-bat, a tennis racquet, a small +gymnasium, a set of foils, and, besides other things, a stylish, +well-built dogcart and a sound, useful cob. + +I sank into an easy-chair in the coffee-room and, refusing to listen to +Reynold's suggestion as to the propriety of dining before setting out +homewards, ordered a cup of tea. While the waiter had left the room to +fetch it I strolled to the window to look out at the weather, which had +been threatening for some time and on my way I discovered that I was not +alone in the apartment. A man was seated at one of the further-most +tables, dining, and as I passed he looked up and surveyed me with a cool, +critical stare, which changed suddenly into a pleasant smile of +recognition. + +"Mr. Morton, isn't it?" he said, holding out his hand. "Mr. Ravenor told +me that I should probably come across you." + +I was so surprised that for a moment I forgot to accept the offered hand. +Mr. Ravenor's secretary was the last person whom I should have expected +to find eating a solitary dinner in a Torchester hotel. + + + + + CHAPTER XV. + A TETE-A-TETE DINNER. + + +"What have you been up to in Torchester, eh? Shopping?" Mr. Marx +inquired. I saw no reason for concealing anything from him, nor did I do +so. Rather awkwardly I told him of Mr. Ravenor's note to me, and that I +had been with Reynolds all the afternoon. Perhaps I spoke with a little +enthusiasm of our somewhat elaborate purchases. At any rate, when I had +finished, he laughed softly to himself--a long, noiseless, but not +unpleasant laugh. + +"Well, I'm glad I met you," he said, his lips still twitching, as though +with amusement. "Sit down and have some dinner with me." + +I hesitated, for just at that moment Mr. Ravenor's words concerning his +secretary flashed into my mind. Besides, I was not at all sure that I +liked him. But, on the other hand, what alternative was there for me? +What excuse could I find for declining so simple an invitation? In a few +minutes the waiter would appear with the modest meal which I had ordered, +and it would be impossible for me to order him to set it down in another +part of the room, or to leave it and walk out of the hotel, just because +this man was there. To do so would be to tell him as plainly as possible +that I had some particular desire for avoiding him, and he would +instantly divine that I was obeying a behest of Mr. Ravenor's. No; it was +unavoidable. I had better accept his invitation, and, briefly, I did so. + +"That's right," he said pleasantly. "It's a queer fancy of mine, but I +hate dining alone. Waiter, bring some more soup at once. This gentleman +will dine with me." + +During dinner our conversation was interrupted. Hat in hand, Reynolds was +standing before us, looking at Mr. Marx and then at me and the table +before us with a look on his face which I did not altogether understand, +although it annoyed me excessively. He spoke to me: + +"The dogcart has come round, sir." + +I half rose and threw down my napkin, though with some reluctance. I held +out my hand regretfully to Mr. Marx, but he refused to take it. + +"You needn't go home with Reynolds unless you like," he said. "I have a +brougham from the Castle here, and I can drop you at the farm on my way +home." + +I hesitated, for the temptation to stay was strong. In fact, I should +have accepted at once, only that Reynolds's grave, frowning face somehow +reminded me of Mr. Ravenor's injunction. Reynolds, like a fool, settled +the matter. + +"I think Mr. Morton had better return with me, sir," he said to Mr. Marx. +"If you are ready, sir," he added to me. "The mare gets very fidgety if +she's kept waiting." + +My boyish vanity was wounded to the quick by the style of his address, +and his unwise assumption of authority, and I answered quickly: + +"You'd better be off at once, then, Reynolds. I shall accept Mr. Marx's +offer." + +He was evidently uneasy and made one more effort. + +"I think Mr. Ravenor would prefer your returning with me, sir," he said. + +Mr. Marx had been leaning back in his chair, sipping his coffee somewhat +absently, and to all appearance altogether indifferent as to which way I +should decide. He looked up now, however, and addressed Reynolds for the +first time. + +"How the deuce do you know anything about what your master would prefer?" +he said coolly. + +Reynolds made no answer, but looked appealingly at me. I chose not to see +him. + +"I should imagine," Mr. Marx continued, leaning back in his chair again +and deliberately stirring his coffee, "that if Mr. Ravenor has any choice +about the matter at all, which seems to me very unlikely, he would prefer +Mr. Morton's riding home in safety with a dry skin. Listen!" + +We did so, and at that moment a fierce gust of wind drove a very deluge +of rain against the shaking window-panes. + +"That decides it!" I exclaimed. "I'll accept your offer, Mr. Marx, if you +don't mind." + +"By far the more sensible thing to do," he remarked carelessly. "Have a +glass of wine, Reynolds, before you start. You've a wet drive before +you." + +Reynolds shook his head, and, wishing me a respectful good evening, +withdrew. + +Mr. Marx watched Reynolds leave the room and then shrugged his shoulders +slightly. + +"Honest, but stupid. Well, now you're in my charge, Morton, I must see +whether I can't amuse you somehow. Ever been to the theatre?" + +I could not help a slight blush as I admitted that I had never even seen +the outside of one. + +Mr. Marx looked at me after my admission as though I were some sort of +natural curiosity. + +"Well, we'll go if you like," he said. "There's a very good one here, I +believe, for the provinces, and it will be a change for you." + +"It will make us very late, won't it?" I ventured to say. + +"Not necessarily. I suppose it will be over about half-past ten and the +carriage can meet us at the door." + +I said no more, for fear that he would take me at my word and give up the +idea of going. In a few minutes Mr. Marx called for his bill and settled +it, and, glancing at his watch, declared that it was time to be off. The +waiter called a hansom, and we drove through the busy streets, Mr. Marx +leisurely smoking a fragrant cigarette, and I leaning forward, watching +the hurrying throngs of people, some pleasure-seekers, but mostly just +released from their daily toil at the factory or workshop. + +It was a wet night and the streets seemed like a perfect sea of +umbrellas. The rain was coming down in sheets, beating against the closed +glass front of our cab and dimming its surface, until it became +impossible to see farther than the horse's head. I leaned back by Mr. +Marx's side with a sigh, and found that he had been watching me with an +amused smile. + +"Busy little place, Torchester," he remarked. + +"It seems so to me," I acknowledged. "I have never been in any other town +except Mellborough." + +"Lucky boy!" he exclaimed, half lightly, half in earnest. "You have all +the pleasures of life before you, with the sauce of novelty to help you +to relish them. What would I not give never to have seen Paris or Vienna, +or never to have been in love, or tasted quails on toast! But here we are +at the theatre!" + + + + + CHAPTER XVI. + MISS MABEL FAY. + + +The cab pulled up with a jerk underneath a long row of brightly burning +lights. We dismounted, and I followed Mr. Marx up a broad flight of +thickly carpeted stairs into a semi-circular corridor draped with crimson +hangings and dimly lit with rose-coloured lights. A faint perfume hung +about the place, and from below came the soft melody of a rhythmical +German waltz which the orchestra was playing. I almost held my breath, +with a curious mixture of expectation and excitement, as I followed Mr. +Marx and an attendant down the corridor. + +The latter threw open the door of what appeared to be a little room and +we entered. Mr. Marx at once moved to the front, and, throwing the +curtains back, beckoned me to his side. I obeyed him and looked around in +wonder. + +It happened to be a fashionable night and the place was crammed. On the +level with us--we were in a box--were rows of men and women in evening +attire; above, a somewhat disorderly mob in the gallery; and below, a +dense throng--at least, it seemed so to me--of seated people were +betraying their impatience for the performance by a continual stamping of +feet and other rumbling noises. + +To a regular playgoer it was a very ordinary sight indeed; to me it was a +revelation. I stood at the front of the box, looking round, until Mr. +Marx, smiling, pushed a chair up to me and bade me sit down. Then I +turned towards the stage and remained with my eyes fixed upon the +curtain, longing impatiently for it to rise. + +Alas for my expectations! When at last the time came it was a charming +picture indeed upon which I looked, but how different! A group of girls +in short skirts and picturesque peasant attire moving lightly about the +stage and singing; a man in uniform making passionate love to one of +them, who was coyly motioning him away with her hand and bidding him stay +with her eyes. A pretty picture it all made and a dazzling one. But what +did it all mean? + +Mr. Marx had been watching my face, and leaned over towards me with a +question upon his lips. + +"What does it all mean?" I whispered. "This isn't a play, is it? I don't +remember one like it." + +"A play? No; it's a comic opera," he answered. + +I turned away and watched the performance again. I suppose I looked a +little disappointed; but by degrees my disappointment died away. It was +all so fresh to me. + +Towards the close of the first act, in connection with one of the +incidents, several fresh characters--amongst them the girl who was taking +the principal part--appeared on the stage. There was a little round of +applause and I was on the point of turning to make some remark to Mr. +Marx, when I heard a sharp, half-suppressed exclamation escape from his +lips and felt his hot breath upon my cheek. + +I looked at him in surprise. He had risen from his chair and was standing +close to my elbow, leaning over me, with eyes fixed upon the centre of +the stage and an incredulous look on his pale face. Instinctively I +followed the direction of his rapt gaze. It seemed to me to be bent upon +the girl who had last appeared, and who, with the skirts of her +dark-green riding-habit gathered up in her hand, was preparing to sing. + +He recovered from his surprise, or whatever emotion it was, very quickly, +and broke into a short laugh. But I noticed that he pushed his chair +farther back into the box and drew the curtains a little more forward. + +"Is anything the matter, Mr. Marx?" I asked. + +He shrugged his shoulders and frowned a little. + +"Nothing at all. I fancied that I recognised a face upon the stage, but I +was mistaken. Good-looking girl, isn't she--the one singing, I mean?" + +I thought that good-looking was a very feeble mode of expression, and I +said so emphatically. In fact, I thought her the most beautiful and most +graceful creature I had ever seen; and, as the evening wore on, I found +myself applauding her songs so vigorously that she glanced, smiling, into +our box, and Mr. Marx, who was still sitting behind the curtain, looked +at me with an amused twitching of the lips. + +"Morton, Morton, this won't do!" he exclaimed, laughing. "You'll be +falling head over ears in love with that young woman presently." + +I became in a moment very red and uncomfortable, for she had just cast a +smiling glance up at us and Mr. Marx had intercepted it. I was both +ashamed and angry with myself for having applauded so loudly as to have +become noticeable; but Mr. Marx seemed to think nothing of it. + +"There is a better way of showing your appreciation of that young lady's +talents--Miss Mabel Fay, I see her name is--than by applause. See these +flowers?" + +I turned round and saw a large bouquet of white azaleas and roses, which +the attendant must have brought in. + +"You can give them to her if you like," Mr. Marx suggested. + +I shook my head immediately, fully determined that I would do nothing of +the sort. But Mr. Marx was equally determined that I should. It was quite +the correct thing, he assured me; he had sent for them on purpose and I +had only to stand up and throw them to her. While he talked he was +writing on a plain card, which he pinned to the flowers and then thrust +them into my hand. + +How it happened I don't quite know, but Mr. Marx had his own way. It was +the close of the act and everyone was applauding Mabel Fay's song. She +stood facing the house, bowing and smiling, and her laughing eyes met +mine for a moment, then rested upon the flowers which I was holding and +finally glanced back into mine full of mute invitation. + +I raised my hand. Mr. Marx whispered, "Now!" And the bouquet was lying at +her feet. She picked it up gracefully, shot a coquettish glance up +towards me, and then the curtain fell, and I sat back in my chair, +feeling quite convinced that I had made an utter fool of myself. + +About the middle of the third act Mr. Marx rose and walked to the door. +Holding it open in his hand for a moment, he paused and looked round. + +"I am going to leave you for a few minutes," he said. "I shall not be +very long." + +Then he went and I heard him walk down the corridor. + +An hour passed and he did not return. The last act came, the curtain fell +and, with a sigh of regret, I rose to go. Still he had not come back. + +I put on my coat and lingered about, uncertain what to do. Then there +came a knock at the box-door, but, instead of Mr. Marx, an attendant +entered, and handed me a note. I tore it open and read, hastily scrawled +in pencil: + +"I am round at the back of the house. Come to me. The bearer will show +you the way.--M." + + + + + CHAPTER XVII. + BEHIND THE SCENES AT THE TORCHESTER THEATRE. + + +I followed my guide to the end of the corridor, through a door which he +unlocked and carefully locked again, and past the side of the deserted +stage, on which I paused for a moment to gaze with wonder at the array of +ropes and pulleys and runners which the carpenters were busy putting to +rights, and at the canvas-covered, unlit auditorium, which looked +now--strange transformation--like the mouth of some dark cavern. After +picking our way carefully, we reached a door on which was painted +"Manager's Room." A voice from inside bade us enter and I was ushered in. + +Mr. Marx was seated in an easy-chair, talking somewhat earnestly to a +slim, dark young man, who was leaning against the mantelpiece. An older +man was writing at a table at the other end of the room, with his back to +the door. + +Mr. Marx welcomed me with a nod, and introduced me briefly to the young +man by his side: + +"Mr. Morton--Mr. Isaacs. Mr. Isaacs is the manager of the company who are +playing here." + +Mr. Isaacs turned an unmistakably Jewish face towards me and extended his +hand. + +"Glad to meet you, Mr. Morton! Hope you liked the performance," he said, +with a smile, which disclosed the whole of a very white set of teeth. +"Very fair, wasn't it? Ha, ha, ha!" + +I replied that I had enjoyed it exceedingly, and looked at Mr. Marx, +wondering how long he meant to stay. I had taken a sudden but strong +dislike to Mr. Isaacs. + +"Shall you be very long, Mr. Marx?" I asked. + +"I have sent for the carriage," he answered; "it will be here in ten +minutes." + +It seemed to me that there was something a little strange in Mr. Marx's +manner and the way in which he kept glancing towards the door. + +Just at that moment someone knocked at the door. + +"Come in!" cried Mr. Isaacs. + +A lady obeyed his summons and swept into the room with a most unnecessary +rustling of silk skirts. Mr. Isaacs welcomed her effusively. + +"Miss Fay, your most humble servant!" he exclaimed, bowing low. "Let me +introduce two of my friends, Mr. Morton and Mr. Marx." + +The lady put out her ungloved hand, covered with a profusion of rings. + +"I know this young gentleman by sight," she said, in a loud and rather +high-pitched tone. "You threw me those lovely flowers, didn't you? So +good of you--awfully good! I've sent them home by my young woman." + +I stammered out some incoherent response and heartily wished myself a +hundred miles away. What a disenchantment it was! I looked at her thickly +pencilled eyebrows, at the smeared powder and paint which lay thick upon +her face: at her bold, staring eyes, the crow's-feet underneath, which +art had done what it could to conceal and failed; at the masses of yellow +hair, which intuitively I knew to be false, and I felt my cheeks burn +with shame that I should have been tricked into admiring her for a +moment. Unfortunately, she put down my embarrassment to another cause, +for it seemed partly to gratify, partly to amuse her. + +"My young friend and I admired your performance equally, Miss Fay, +although, perhaps, he was the more demonstrative," said Mr. Marx, coming +forward. "Will you accept the congratulations and thanks of a provincial +who seldom has the pleasure of seeing such acting or hearing such a +voice?" + +She thanked him with an affected little laugh, which suddenly died away +and she looked into his face intently. + +"Haven't we met before?" she asked curiously. "There is something about +your face or voice which seems familiar to me." + +He returned her gaze steadily, but shook his head with a slight smile. + +"I am afraid I may not claim that honour," he said. "If we had there +could not possibly have been any uncertainty in my mind about it. It +would have been a treasured memory." + +She looked doubtful, but turned away carelessly. + +"I suppose it is my mistake, then," she remarked. "You certainly seem to +remind me of someone whom I have known. Fancy, perhaps. Mr. Isaacs, I +came to beg for your escort home." (Here she shot a quick glance at me, +which made my cheeks hot again.) "I have sent Julia on, and I can't go +alone, can I, Mr. Morton?" she asked, turning to me. + +"I--I suppose not," I answered, devoutly wishing that Mr. Marx would take +his departure. But, as though on purpose, he had gone to the other end of +the room and had his back turned towards me. + +There was a brief silence. Mr. Isaacs glanced at me, whistled softly to +himself, and then strolled slowly over to the window, as though to see +what sort of a night it was. Miss Fay glanced at me impatiently, with a +slight contraction in her eyebrows. I longed desperately to get away, but +for the life of me could think of no excuse. + +"You won't offer your escort, then, Mr. Morton?" she whispered. + +"I can't. I don't know the town--never was here before--and we have a +twelve-mile drive before us. We are expecting the carriage every moment. +Ah, there it is!" I added, with a sudden sense of relief, as I heard the +sound of horses' feet stamping and pawing outside and the jingling of +harness. "Mr. Marx, Burdett has come!" I called out. + +He looked up, frowning. + +"All right; there's no hurry!" he said. "If you're not ready, pray don't +study me. I should enjoy a cigar and a brandy-and-soda down at the 'Bell' +before we start." + +"I'm quite ready, thanks," I answered slowly, for his words and manner +had given me something to think about. "If you don't mind, I should like +to be getting away. It's a long way, you know." + +"Oh, pray don't let me detain you!" Miss Fay exclaimed, tossing her head. +"Mr. Isaacs, if you're ready, I am. Good-night, Mr. Marx; good-night, Mr. +Morton!" + +She drew me a little on one side--a manoeuvre which I was powerless to +prevent--and whispered in my ear: + +"You shy, stupid boy! There!" + +She shook hands with me again and left something in my palm. When they +were gone and I was in the passage, I looked at it. It was a plain card +and on it was hastily scribbled an address: + + Miss Mabel Fay, + 15, Queen Street. + +I felt my cheeks flush as I tore it into pieces and flung them on the +ground. Then I followed Mr. Marx out to the carriage and, leaning back +among the cushions by his side, I began seriously to consider an idea +which every trifling incident during the latter part of the evening had +pointed to; Mr. Marx had deliberately tried to lead me into making a fool +of myself with Miss Mabel Fay. Why? + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII. + AT MIDNIGHT ON THE MOOR. + + +We were more than half-way home before Mr. Marx broke a silence which was +becoming oppressive. + +"Well, have you enjoyed your evening?" he asked. + +"Of course I have, and I'm very much obliged to you for taking me to the +theatre," I added. After all, perhaps I was misjudging him. What possible +motive could he have for being my enemy? + +"Oh, that's all right," he declared, carefully lighting a cigar and +throwing the match out of the window. "I'm afraid you've had more than +one illusion dispelled this evening, though," he went on, smiling. "You +must have had plenty of time and opportunity, too, for weaving them, out +here all your life. Have you never been away to visit your relations, or +anything of that sort?" + +I shook my head. + +"I don't believe I have any relations," I said. "I never heard of any. My +father used to say that he was the last of his family." + +"But your mother? Surely you know some of her people?" + +"I have never even heard her speak of them," I answered shortly. + +"Strange! You don't happen to remember her maiden name, do you?" + +"I don't know that I ever heard it," I told him. + +I began to wish that Mr. Marx would choose some other topic of +conversation. Doubtless, it was exceedingly kind of him to take so much +interest in my affairs and his questions proceeded from perfectly genuine +motives, but my inability to answer any of them was becoming a little +embarrassing. + +"One more question I was going to ask you and it shall be the last," he +said, as though divining my feeling. "Were you born here?" + +"I suppose so. I never heard that I was born anywhere else." + +There was another long silence and it seemed to me that Mr. Marx was very +deep in thought. I was beginning to feel sleepy and, closing my eyes, I +leaned right back among the soft, yielding cushions. + +It was one of the wildest and roughest nights of the year. Both the +carriage-windows were streaming with raindrops, and we could hear the +wind howling across the open country, and whistling mournfully among the +leafless trees. + +We had accomplished about three-quarters of our journey and had just +entered upon the blackest part of it. On either side of the road and +running close up to it, without even the division of hedges, was a +stretch of bare, open country, pleasant enough in summer time, but now a +mere plain, on which were dotted about a few straggling plantations of +sickly, stunted fir trees, among which the hurricane was making weird +music. + +We were in the middle of this dreary region. Mr. Marx was still smoking +his cigar, but with closed eyes, and was either dozing or deep in +thought. I, with my share of the fur rug wrapped closely around my knees, +was trying in vain to sleep--in vain, for my head was still in a whirl, +after what had been for me such an exciting day. + +Exciting though it had been, however, its close was to be more so. +Suddenly, without the least warning, we felt a sharp jerk, and heard the +coachman calling out to his horses, who were plunging furiously. Mr. Marx +and I both leaned forward, and, just as we did so, there was a tremendous +crash of breaking glass, and, through the splintered carriage window, on +the side nearest to him, came a heavy piece of rock, followed by a +confused mass of stones and gravel and other debris. + +Mr. Marx leapt to his feet, with his hand on the door handle and the +blood streaming from his forehead. Before he could open the door, +however, a strange thing happened. Outside, half visible through the +remains of the glass and half without any intervening obstruction, +flashed for one single second the white, ghastly face of a man peering in +upon us. It came and went so swiftly that I could gain only the very +faintest idea of the features; but with Mr. Marx it seemed to be +otherwise. Like a flash of lightning, a look passed across his face which +has never died out of my memory. Every feature seemed to be dilated and +shaken with a spasmodic agony of horrified recognition. For a moment he +seemed struck helpless, with every power of movement and every nerve +numbed. Then a low cry, such as I have never before or since heard from +human throat, burst from his shaking lips and his right hand tore open +his coat and sought his breast-pocket. + +The door of the carriage burst open as he sprang into the road like a +wild animal, and long streaks of fire flashed from the gleaming revolver +which he grasped in his hand--a lurid illumination which gave me sudden +glimpses of his white, bleeding face as he stood in the road, firing +barrel after barrel into the darkness. + +I jumped out and hurried to his side, looking eagerly around into the +dark night and together we stood and listened in a breathless silence. +Across the wild, open moor the wind came rushing towards us with a deep +booming sound, and among the bare tree tops of a small plantation before +us we heard it shrieking and yelling like the hellish laughter of an army +of witches. The ink-black clouds lowering close above our heads were +dissolving in a mad torrent of rain, and the darkness was so intense +that, although we could hear the frantic plunging of the horses behind +us, we could neither see them nor the carriage. The elements seemed to +have declared themselves on the side of our mysterious assailant. The +blackness of the night and the roaring of the wind and rain blotted out +all our surroundings and deadened all sound save their own. + +"Wait here!" cried Mr. Marx, in a harsh, unnatural tone. And before I +could open my mouth he had vanished out of sight and it seemed as though +the black, yawning darkness had swallowed him up. + +For a while I stood without moving. Then a cry for help from the coachman +behind and the renewed sound of struggling horses reminded me of their +plight, and I groped my way back to the road again. + +I was only just in time. The horses, fine, powerful creatures, very +nearly thoroughbred, were perfectly mad with fright, and the groom, who +had been holding and striving to subdue them, was quite exhausted. +Between us we managed to pacify them after a brief struggle, and as soon +as I could find sufficient breath I began to question Burdett--who had +stuck to his place on the box like an immovable statue--about the first +cause of their alarm. + +"What was it they shied at first?" I asked. "Did you see anyone?" + +"Just catched a glimpse of the blackguard, sir, and that was all," +Burdett answered. "We were a-spinning along beautiful, for they knew as +they were on their way home, them animals did, when, all of a sudden +like, Dandy shies, and up goes the mare on her hind legs and as near as +possible pitches me into the road. I slackened the reins and laid the +whip across them, while Tom jumped down. And just then I saw a figure in +the middle of the road and heard a crash through the carriage window. +Tom, he'd catched hold of their heads by then, which was lucky; for when +the firing began they was like mad creatures and I could never have held +them. It's a mercy we aren't altogether smashed up, and no mistake. The +Lord save me from ever being out wi' my 'osses again on such a night as +this!" + +"You didn't see the face of the man who attacked us, then?" I asked +eagerly. + +"Not being possessed of the eyes of a heagle or a cat, sir, I did not," +Burdett replied. "Just you look round and see what sort of a night it is. +Why, I can only just make out your outline, sir; although I've been +looking at you this five minutes, I can't see nothing of your face." + +"Neither did you, I suppose, Tom?" I asked the groom. + +"No, sir; nothing except just a black figure. Good thing that you was +neither of you hurt, sir." + +"I'm not sure that Mr. Marx isn't," I answered; "his face was bleeding a +good deal. I wish he'd come back." + +Never did time pass so slowly as then, when we waited in the storm and +rain for Mr. Marx's return. It must have been nearly an hour before we +heard him hailing us in the distance, and soon afterwards saw his figure +loom out of the darkness close at hand. He was alone. + +Splashed from head to foot with mud, hatless, and with great streaks of +blood clotted upon his forehead and cheeks, he presented at first a +frightful figure. But his face had lost that dreadful expression of +numbed horror which had made it for a moment so terrible to me, and, as +he sank back breathless and exhausted, among the cushions, he even +attempted a smile. + +"All in vain, you see," he said. "Couldn't find a single trace of anyone +anywhere." + +"Are you much hurt, sir?" asked the groom, who was tying up the broken +carriage-door. + +"Not at all. Only a scratch. Tell Burdett to drive home as fast as he can +now, Tom, there's a good fellow." + +We were left together to talk over this strange affair. Mr. Marx seemed +to have made up his mind about it already. + +"Without doubt," he said deliberately, "it was some tramp, desperate with +want or drink, who made up his mind to play the highwayman. He started +well, and then, seeing two of us instead of one, funked it and bolted. I +don't think I ever had such a start in my life." + +"You came off the worst," I remarked, pointing to his forehead. + +"It wasn't that that upset me," he answered. "It was a horrible idea +which flashed upon me just for a moment. The face which peered in at the +window--you saw it--was horribly like the face of a man who is dead--whom +I know to be dead. It gave me, just while the idea lasted, a sensation +which I hope I shall never experience again as long as I live. It was +ghastly." + +The face of the dead! It was not a cheerful thought. But I looked at the +wrecked door and window of the carriage and felt immediately reassured. +Our assailant, whoever he might have been, was no ghostly one. There was +undeniable evidence of his material presence and strength in the +shattered glass, the wrenched woodwork, and the wound on Mr. Marx's +forehead. + +The carriage pulled up with a jerk. We had reached my home. + +"Hadn't you better come in and bathe your forehead, Mr. Marx?" I +suggested hesitatingly. + +He shook his head and declined. + +"No, thanks. I'll get back to the Castle as soon as I can and doctor it +myself. Good-bye, Morton. If I don't see you again before you go, I wish +you every success at Mr. Randall's." + +I thanked him warmly, shook his offered hand, and, shutting the +carriage-door, called out to Burdett to drive on. For a moment or two I +stood in the road watching the lights as they rapidly grew fainter and +fainter in the distance. Then I turned slowly up the path towards the +house. + +Half-way there I stopped short and, holding my breath, listened intently. +The wind had dropped and the rain had almost ceased, but the night was +still as dark as pitch. I listened with strained ears and beating heart +and soon I knew that I had not been mistaken. Coming down the hill +between Rothland Wood gate and where I was, along the road by which we +had just come, I could hear the faint, but nevertheless unmistakable, +sound of light, running footsteps. Turning back, I stole softly down the +path and stood in the middle of the road, waiting. + + + + + CHAPTER XIX. + A STRANGE ATTACK. + + +It could not in reality have been more than a minute or two, although it +seemed to me then a terribly long while, before I again heard the sound +which had attracted my attention. When I did, it was quite close at hand, +just at the beginning of the range of farm-buildings which skirted the +road. There was no possibility of any mistake. The situation was +sufficiently plain, at any rate. Scarcely fifty yards away a man was +coming running towards me, either barefooted or with very soft shoes on; +and it was past midnight, pitch dark, and a lonely road. + +Nearer and nearer the steps came, and my heart began to beat very fast +indeed. At last, peering earnestly through the gloom, I made out the +shadowy figure of a man only a yard or two away from me, running in the +middle of the road, and a pair of wild, burning eyes glistened like fire +against the dark background. I felt his warm, panting breath upon my +cheek, heard a low, fierce cry, and a second later saw the figure give a +spring sideways and vanish in the shade of the barn wall. + +I followed cautiously; but, although I groped about in all directions, I +could see nothing. So I stood quite still with my back to the wall, and +called out softly: + +"Who are you? Why are you hiding from me?" + +No answer. I tried again: + +"I don't want to hurt you. I won't do you any harm. I only want to know +who you are, and what----" + +I never finished the sentence. I became suddenly conscious of two glaring +eyes looking at me, like pieces of live coal, from a crumpled heap on the +ground. Then there was a quick, panting snort, a spring, and I felt a +man's long, nervous fingers clutching my throat. Gasping and choking for +breath, I flung them off, only to find myself held as though in a vice by +a pair of long arms. Drawing a deep breath, I braced myself up for the +struggle with my unknown assailant. + +More than once I gave myself up for lost, for my opponent was evidently a +powerful man, and seemed bent on strangling me. But, fiercely though he +struggled at first, I soon saw that his strength was only the frenzy of +nervous desperation and that it was fast leaving him. By degrees I began +to gain the upper hand, and at last, with a supreme effort, I threw him +on his back and, before he could recover himself, I had my knee upon his +chest and drew a long breath of relief. + +I spoke to him, shouted, threatened, commanded; but he took no notice. +Then I peered down close into his upturned face and fierce eyes, and the +truth flashed upon me at once. I had been struggling with a madman, a +hopeless, raving lunatic, and it was probably he who had made the attack +upon us in the carriage. + +My first impulse was one of deep gratitude for my escape; then I began to +wonder what on earth I was to do with him. He was lying like a log now, +perfectly quiet; but I knew that I had only to relax my hold upon him and +the struggle would begin again--perhaps terminate differently. I could +not take him into the house, for there was no room from which he could +not easily escape. The only place seemed to me to be the coach-house. It +was dry and clean, with no windows, save at the top, and with a good +strong padlock. The coach-house would do, I decided, if only I could get +him there. + +I drew my handkerchief from my pocket, and, knotting it with my teeth, +secured his hands as well as I could. Then, seizing him by the collar, I +half dragged, half helped him up the garden path till we reached the +coach-house, and, opening the door with one hand, I thrust him in. He +made no resistance; in fact, he seemed utterly cowed; and a pitiable +object he looked, crouched on the floor, with his face turned to the +wall. I struck a match to obtain a better view of him. + +His only attire was a grey flannel shirt and a pair of dark trousers, +both of which were torn in places and saturated with rain. Of his face I +could see little, for it was half hidden by the hair, matted with dirt +and rain, and by his bushy whiskers and beard, ragged and unkempt. His +feet were bare and black with a thick coating of mud; hence his soft, +stealthy tread. Altogether, he was a gruesome object, as he lay a huddled +heap against the wall, muttering to himself some unintelligible jargon. + +Loosing his hands, I left him there, and, softly entering the house, +found some food and rugs and took them out to him. He eyed the former +ravenously, and before I could set it down he snatched a piece of bread +from my hands and began eagerly to devour it. I put the remainder down by +his side and, throwing the rugs over him, stole away. + + + + + CHAPTER XX. + THE MONASTERY AMONG THE HILLS. + + +When I awoke in the morning the sun was already high in the heavens and +it was considerably past my usual hour of rising. I jumped out of bed at +once and began my toilet. I had scarcely finished my bath when there came +a loud tap at the door. + +"Hallo!" I cried out. "Anything the matter?" + +"Yes, sir. Please, sir, John wants to know whether you locked anything up +in the coach-house last night. There was----" + +"Yes, I did," I interrupted quickly. "Tell him not to go there till I +come down." + +"Please, sir, it's too late," the girl answered, in a frightened tone. +"It's got away, whatever it is." + +I dropped the towel with which I had been rubbing myself and hurried on +my clothes. In a few minutes I was down in the yard, where several men +were standing together talking. John left them at once and came to me. + +"Why did you want to go to the coach-house so early?" I exclaimed, +glancing at the wide-open door and empty interior. "I had an awful job to +get that man in there last night, and now you've let him go." + +"Well, sir, it was a fearful row he was a-making," explained John. "Soon +as I came this morning, about five o'clock, I was passing through the +stack-yard when I heard an awful thumping at the coach-house door from +the inside. Of course, I knew nowt about there being anyone theer, so I +just goes straight up and opens the door, to see what was the matter, +like, and, lor, I did 'ave a skeer, and no mistake! It wur quite dark, +and I could see nowt but a pair o' heyes a-glaring at me as savage as a +wild animal's. 'Coom out o' this 'ere and let's ha' a look at yer,' I +says, for, d'ye see, I thought as it wur someone who had crept in +unbeknown in the daytime and got locked in by mistake. There warn't no +answer, and I wur just about to strike a match and 'ave a look at 'im, +when he springs at me like a wild cat. I tried to hold him and I'm darned +if he didn't nearly make his teeth meet through my hand." + +He touched his right hand lightly, and I noticed for the first time that +it was bandaged up. + +"He got away from you, then?" I remarked. + +"Got away from me?" John repeated, in a tone of utter disgust. "He warn't +such a sweet-looking object, or sweet-tempered 'un either, that I wur +over-anxious for the pleasure of his company, he warn't! I just got my +hand out of his jaws and let him go as fast as he liked, with a jolly +good kick behind to help him on, too. You see, sir, I didn't know as +you'd anything to do with putting him in there," the man added +apologetically. "I thought he'd got in quite promiscuous-like." + +To tell the truth, although I had been alarmed at first, I did not +particularly regret what had happened. At any rate, it saved me the +bother of going over to the police-station at Mellborough. Still, the +thought that he might even now be lurking about in the vicinity, with +plenty of opportunities to provide a weapon for himself, was not +altogether a pleasant one. + +"Who might he have been, sir?" John inquired curiously. + +"Just what I should like to know," I answered. "He's a lunatic and a +dangerous one, that's certain--escaped from some asylum, I should think." +And I told him of my adventure on the previous night, to which the whole +group listened open-mouthed. + +"I'm thinking, sir," John remarked, when I had finished, "that it'd be as +well for Foulds and I to have a scour round and see if we can't find him, +or he'll be doing someone a mischief." + +"If you are not very busy I wish you would," I said. "I don't feel quite +easy at the thought of his wandering about round here. If you do find +him, lock him up and send word to the police-station at Mellborough." + +After breakfast that morning my mother made a request which startled me +almost as much it delighted me. + +"I am going to walk over to the monastery, Philip," she said quietly. +"Will you come with me?" + +"Of course I will, mother," I answered promptly. "Nothing could give me +greater pleasure. When will you start?" + +"I shall be ready in half an hour," she said, with a faint smile, as +though she were pleased at my ready acquiescence. Then she left the room +to get ready. + +In about the time she had mentioned she came into the garden to me and we +started on our walk. It was a very uneventful one, but I don't think that +I shall ever forget it. My mother seemed, after her brief relapse into +comparative kindness, to have become more inaccessible than ever; and she +walked along by my side, with downcast eyes and a nervous, thoughtful +expression on her pale face. + +I, too, felt somewhat depressed at starting, but soon the fresh, pure +air, becoming stronger and stronger as we left the road and followed the +footpath by Beacon Hill, had its invariable effect upon my spirits. All +perplexing thoughts and forebodings of trouble passed away from me like +magic, and my heart beat and the blood flowed through my veins with all +the impetuous ardour of sanguine youth. + +At the top of the hill we paused, I to look round upon my favourite +scene, my mother to rest for a moment. Then we saw how great had been the +storm of the night before. + +Here and there were the bare trunks of trees and many a cattle-shed and +barn stood roofless. The storm seemed to have worked havoc everywhere, +save where, on the summit of its wooded hill, Ravenor Castle, with its +great range of mighty battlements, its vast towers, and grey walls of +invincible thickness, frowned down upon the country at its feet. Looking +across at it, it seemed to me that the place had never seemed so imposing +as then. + +My mother stood by my side and noticed my intent gaze. + +"You admire Ravenor Castle very much, Philip?" she said quietly. + +I withdrew my eyes with an effort. + +"I do, mother," I confessed; "very much indeed. The place has a sort of +fascination for me--and the man who lives there!" + +My mother had turned a little away from me and stood with face upturned +to heaven and mutely moving lips. Out of her eyes I could see the tears +slowly welling, and her tall slim figure was convulsed with sobs. I +sprang to her side and caught hold of her hand. + +"What is it, mother?" I cried. "Tell me!" + +She shook her head sadly. + +"Not now, Philip--not now. Come, let us go!" + +Side by side we began to descend the hill. Our path wound around several +freshly-planted spinneys and then led through a plantation of pine-trees. + +Then we turned with regret, so far as I was concerned, into the muddy +road again and walked for more than a mile between high, straight hedges. +At last, soon after mid-day, we turned to the left, passed through a +farmyard and along a winding path, which led us, now by the side of +turnip fields, now across bracken-covered open country, to the summit of +our last hill. + +Here again we paused. Below us, close up against the background of the +colourless hills, drearily situated in the bleakest spot of the austere +landscape, the straight spires and severely simple buildings of the +monastery were clustered together. A little above it, on an artificial +eminence of rock, a rude cross stood out in vivid relief against the sky, +and on this my mother's eyes were fixed with a sort of rapt wistfulness, +as we stood side by side on the top of the hill looking downwards. + +It was a fitting spot that these men--who counted it among their virtues +that in their rigid self-immolation they had cut themselves off even from +the beauties of Nature--had chosen for their habitation. But although the +place had a peculiar impressiveness of its own, which never failed to +exercise a sort of fascination upon me, I was glad to-day when my mother +moved forward again. + +As we neared the end of our journey and turned in at the long, straight +avenue which led to the monastery doors, the strange agitation which I +had noticed in my mother's manner during the earlier part of the day +visibly increased. The cold inexpressiveness which had dwelt for so long +in her face vanished, and into it there crept a look which, having once +seen, I cared not to look upon again. It seemed as though she were +endeavouring to brace herself up for some tremendous ordeal, and I would +have given anything to have been able to put into words the sympathy +which had risen up strongly within me. + +Unnatural, cold, severe and, at the best of times, indifferent, as she +had lately been to me, she was still my mother and I loved her. But I +dared not break in with words upon the fierce anguish which was already +beginning to leave its marks upon her white, strained face. Only when we +stood before the bare stone front of the monastery, and with feeble +fingers she had pulled the great iron bell, could I speak at all, and +then the words were not such as I wished to speak. Afterwards, when I +thought of them--and I often did think of them and of every trifling +incident of that memorable walk--they seemed to me weak and ill-chosen. + +But, such as they were, I am glad that I spoke them. + +She listened as one whose thoughts were far away, but when I ceased, +breathless, she laid her hand upon my arm and, with her dim, sad eyes +looking into mine, said simply: + +"This is for your sake, Philip--for your sake!" + +Then, before I could ask her what she meant, the great door slowly opened +and the guest-master stood before us. She passed him with a silent +salutation and vanished on her way to the chapel; and, though I watched +her longingly, I dared not follow. Then, declining Father Bernard's +invitation to go to his room and rest, I turned away from the door and +wandered into the grounds. + +Hour after hour of the brief winter's day passed away. Father Bernard +came out in search of me and offered me refreshments; but I shook my +head. I could not eat, nor drink, nor rest. A strange but powerful +apprehension of some coming crisis in my life--some great evil connected +with my mother's visit to this place--had laid hold of me, and all my +struggles against it were impotent. + +It was late in the afternoon before she came. I had climbed up to the top +of "Calvary" and, with sick heart and longing eyes, was watching the door +from which she must issue. Suddenly it was opened and she stood for a +moment upon the threshold looking around for me. To my dying day I shall +think of her as I saw her then. + +Her face was the face of a saint--calm, passionless, and happy, with a +gentle, chastened happiness. I knew, when I looked upon her, that she had +left the burden of her great sorrow behind. But she had paid a price for +it. Pale and fragile as she had always appeared, she seemed now to have +been wasted by some fierce, scathing ordeal, which had driven out of her +features everything human and left only a spiritual life. As she moved +slowly forward into the drive and I saw her even more distinctly, she +seemed to me to have gained a strange, new beauty; but it was a beauty +which made me look upon her with a sudden shuddering fear. + +I hurried down to her side and she welcomed me with a smile such as I had +seldom seen on her face, and which was altogether in harmony with her +softened expression. Then she took my arm and we turned towards home. + +"You are happier now, mother?" I ventured to ask her, and she answered me +by silently pressing my arm. + +We passed down the avenue, thickly strewn with decaying leaves, along the +winding lane, and through the gate which led up to Ive's Head Hill. Once +or twice as we were making the ascent I fancied that she hung heavily +upon my arm and I asked if she were tired; but she only shook her head. +We had reached the summit before the terrible fear which had been gnawing +at my heart took definite shape. Then, for the first time since we had +started upon our return journey, I was able to look into her face, which +she had been keeping averted from me, and when I saw the ghastly change +which had crept into it, my heart stood still and all my senses seemed +numbed with fear. + +"Mother," I cried, "you are ill! What is the matter? Oh, speak to +me--do!" + +She had fallen into my arms, and her hands, which touched mine as they +fell to her side, were as cold as ice. Her face was like the face of one +who has already triumphed over the shadows of death. Far away at our feet +the Cross of Calvary was standing out with rugged vividness against the +fast darkening sky and upon it her closing eyes were steadily fixed. Her +lips were slightly parted in a happy, confident smile, and her whole +being seemed absorbed in the most religious devotion. Once she whispered +my name and faintly pressed my hand; then her lips moved again and I +heard the dread sound of the solemn prayer, faltered out in a broken +whisper, "_In manus Tuas, Domine_!" + +In my heart I knew that she was dying, and that human help would be of no +avail. Yet I was loth to abandon all hope, and setting her gently down I +looked anxiously around. On the summit of the next range of hills a man +was sitting on horseback, looking down upon the monastery--a motionless +figure against the sky. I cried out to him, and at the sound of my voice +he started round and looked towards us; then, suddenly digging the spurs +deep into the sides of his great black horse, he came thundering up the +side of the hill at a pace which made the ground shake beneath my feet +like the tremblings of an earthquake. + +"What is wrong?" he cried hoarsely; and, looking into his face, I +recognised Mr. Ravenor. + +I pointed to my mother's prostrate figure, and, gazing at him with dry +eyes, I answered mechanically: + +"She is dying!" + +The words had scarcely left my lips before he had leaped from his horse, +and, passing his arm around her, bent over her pallid face. + +"Oh, this is horrible!" he murmured. "You must not die--you must not die! +I have----" + +His voice seemed choked with emotion and he did not finish his sentence. +She spoke to him, but so softly that I could not hear the words. + +I walked a few yards away and once more looked wildly round. Far away on +the dark hillside I could see the white-robed figures of the lay brethren +bending over their labour. Nearer there was no one. The road below was +deserted and a deep stillness seemed brooding over the bare, shadowy +landscape. Sick at heart I turned back and fell on my knees by my +mother's side. + +We remained there, fearing almost to look into her face, until the +twilight deepened upon the hills and slowly blotted out from our view +even the dark cross standing up against the grey sky. Then Mr. Ravenor +leaned for a moment forward and a low groan escaped from his lips. It +told me what I dreaded--that my mother was dead! + + + + + CHAPTER XXI. + A MESSAGE FROM THE DEAD. + + +The paroxysm of my grief passed slowly away, and I rose to my feet and +looked around with streaming eyes. Mr. Ravenor was still by my side, and +together we carried my mother back to the monastery. The news of our +approach had preceded us, and long before we reached our journey's end +the solemn minute-bell was tolling out to the silent night, awakening +strange echoes in the hills and finding a reverberation of its +mournfulness in my heart. + +Austere and impressive as the great bare front of the monastery had +always appeared to me, it had never seemed so cold and desolate as when +our melancholy little procession wound round the Hill of Calvary and +slowly approached the entrance. The gloom of a winter's evening was +hanging around the building, which, with never a ray of light from any +part, looked like a habitation of the dead--a gigantic vault. + +But suddenly, as we drew near, the front door was slowly opened and the +dark figure of a monk, holding above his head a lighted taper, stood on +the steps and in a low monotone repeated a Latin prayer. When he ceased +there was a moment's silence, and then from the chapel there came the +sound of deep voices chanting slowly in solemn unison the _Miserere_. + +The remainder of that night seems like a dream to me now, of which I can +recall but little. But I remember that, long past midnight, when I had +thrown myself down upon the stone floor of the guest-chamber, I heard +soft steps and the rustle of garments approaching me, and, looking up, I +saw the sweetest face I ever beheld in man or woman looking down into +mine from the deep folds of a monk's cowl. + +He stayed with me for a while, speaking welcome words of comfort; then, +gathering his robes about him, he stood up, prepared to leave. But first +he handed me a small packet. + +"This was left in my charge for you, Philip Morton," he said. "Little did +I dream that so soon I should be called upon to fulfil my trust. Take it, +my son." + +The packet, which I opened with reverent fingers, was a very small one, +and consisted of a single letter only. That I might see the more clearly +to read it, I pushed open the narrow, diamond-framed window, and the +moonlight filled the little room with a soft, mellowed light. Then I +read: + + "The Barnwood Monastery of St. Clement's, + "_November 19th, 18--._ + +"My dearest Son,--I write these lines to you, Philip, feeling happier +than I have done for many years, because I have a deep and sure +conviction that my life is drawing fast to a close, and that the end may +come at any minute. Alas! my son, I feel that I have not been to you all +that a mother should be. It may be that my coldness has alienated from me +the love which I know you have been willing to give. It may be so; but I +choose rather to believe that you will pity me when I tell you that the +coldness which has grown up between us was none of my choosing, but was +only part of a terrible punishment which I have had to bear for many +weary years. + +"What my sin--or let me be merciful to myself and call it my error--was, +I do not purpose here to tell you. Some day the person at whose +discretion I have left it may deem it well to tell you the whole story. +For my sake, Philip, for the sake of the love which I know you bear +me--and which, God knows, I have for you--I beg you to wait until that +time comes and not seek to hasten it. + +"Think of me as kindly as you can, dear. If the path which I chose to +follow was not the wisest, I have, at least, suffered terribly for it. +For many weary years grief and horror and remorse have been making my +life one long purgatory. Yes, I have suffered indeed. But at last I have +found peace. + +"Do not marvel at what I am going to tell you, Philip. My will--the +little I have to leave is yours--is drawn up and signed and I have +appointed Mr. Ravenor your guardian. There are reasons for this which you +cannot know, but he will be only too glad to accept the charge; and in +all things, Philip, even if he should desire you altogether to change +your position in life, follow his command and submit to his wishes. + +"Farewell, my beloved son--farewell! God grant that your life may be good +and happy, and that your last days may be as peaceful as mine. I can wish +you nothing better. Once more, farewell!--Your affectionate + + "Mother." + + + + + CHAPTER XXII. + FOR LIFE. + + +My mother's death marked an epoch in my life, for immediately afterwards +a great change came over my circumstances and position. Of the dreary +days just before and after the funeral I shall here say but little. Their +sadness is for me and me alone. + +Until after the ceremony I remained at the monastery, seeking relief from +my thoughts by rambles over the hills, by watches at dead of night before +the spot where, with many candles burning round her open coffin, my +mother lay, and by long conversations with Father Alexander, my +comforter. When the time of the funeral came, Mr. Ravenor stood by my +side, the only other mourner, and I knew that the banks of choice white +flowers, which smothered the coffin and perfumed the winter air, were his +gift. + +After it was all over he came to me where I stood, a little apart, and +put his hand upon my shoulder. + +"Philip, my boy," he said kindly, "will you come back to the Castle with +me? I am your guardian now, you know." + +I drew a long breath. + +"Let me go back to the farm for a week by myself," I said; "then I will +come to you. Be ready to go to Dr. Randall's." + +"Let it be so, then," he answered. "Perhaps it is best." + +I said good-bye to the monks, especially to Father Alexander, with +regret, for they had all been very good to me. Then I accompanied Mr. +Ravenor to his carriage and was driven swiftly homewards. + +The week that followed I spent in solitude, and as the days passed by the +bitterness of my grief left me. Not that the memory of my mother grew +less dear--rather the reverse; but I began to recognise that what had +happened was best. Better that she should have died thus, full of +thoughts of holy things and with a conscience at rest, than that she +should still be bearing with aching heart a burden which she had never +deserved. + +On the last day of the week I was told that a visitor had arrived and +wished to see me, and before I could ask his name he had entered the +room. It was Mr. Marx. + +The man was surely an admirable actor. Instinct told me that he cared not +a jot for either my mother or me; but his few words of sympathy were +excellently chosen and gracefully spoken. Then he at once changed the +subject and talked pleasantly of other things; and as he went on I +suddenly remembered that I had not seen him since the night of our drive +home from Torchester, and that, therefore, he could know nothing of the +adventure which had befallen me after his departure. I took advantage, +therefore, of a pause in the conversation to tell him all about it; and, +impassive though his face was, I could see that it made a great +impression. + +"Do you remember what the man was like?" he asked, knitting his brows. +"Can you describe him?" + +I did so as well as I could and in the midst of my narration, making some +trivial excuse, he moved his chair out of the light into the shadows of +the room. But if he wished to escape my scrutiny he was a little too +late, for I had already noticed his blanched face and trembling hands. +Evidently there was something more in this midnight attack than I had +thought. Who was the lunatic? I wondered. I felt sure, looking at him +closely, that Mr. Marx knew. No need now for Mr. Ravenor to warn me +against the companionship of this man. Already my passive dislike had +grown into an active aversion. + +Instinctively I felt that he was both unscrupulous and untrustworthy. I +felt that he was seeking me for ends of his own, and all the time I was +half afraid of him. + +Doubtless my manner showed that he was no welcome visitor, but still he +lingered. At last my housekeeper brought me in my afternoon cup of tea +and I was compelled to ask him to join me. He did so, drank it +thoughtfully, and immediately afterwards rose to go. + +"I have been wondering what can have become of this poor lunatic," he +said carelessly. "Scarcely a pleasant person to meet on a dark evening." + +I shrugged my shoulders as I walked out into the hall with him. + +"It is nearly a fortnight ago," I remarked; "he can hardly have remained +in the neighbourhood and in hiding all this time." + +"Still, if he had been captured we should have heard of it," Mr. Marx +objected. + +"Probably. And yet I don't see why. I should not, at any rate, as I have +been away at the monastery; and you, I don't know how you would have +heard of it, unless you read the local papers." + +"A weakness of which I am not guilty," he answered drily. "Nor have I +been outside the grounds. We have been hard at work." + +"Did you walk here?" I asked. + +He shook his head. + +"I came down in a trap from the Castle, but the man was going to +Mellborough and I told him not to wait for me. You won't walk across the +park with me, I suppose, just to get an appetite for dinner? It's a +splendid evening." + +I looked at him furtively, but closely. Yes, Mr. Marx was a coward, in +addition to his other slight demerits. + +"No, thanks," I answered shortly. "I've had a long walk already today. +Good evening!" + +I turned back into the sitting-room, but before I had reached my +easy-chair I began to think that I was scarcely behaving well. After all, +Mr. Marx was a middle-aged man, and it was possible that his strength +might have been sapped by the brain labour in which he was constantly +engaged and his sedentary life. + +Supposing he were to encounter this lunatic and suffer at his hands, +perhaps even lose his life, should I not blame myself? I came to a speedy +decision. I would let him have his fright, but I would follow him at a +little distance and see that he came to no harm. + +I took a short, heavy stick from the rack and, crossing the stackyard, +vaulted over the palings into the park, purposely avoiding the gate. +About a hundred yards in front Mr. Marx was walking quickly along, with +both hands in his ulster pockets, and looking frequently around him. Men +had been busy in the park on the previous day cutting the bracken, and +along the side of the road were many stacks of it waiting to be carted +away. I noticed that whenever Mr. Marx drew near one of these he gave it +a wide berth and I smiled to myself at this evidence of his anxiety. + +I was walking on the turf, that he might not hear my footsteps, and was +able to keep him easily in sight, for it was a clear, frosty evening, and +the full moon was shining in a cloudless sky. At a sudden bend in the +road he came in sight of a place where stacks of bracken had been left on +either side opposite to each other. I saw him pause as though hesitating +which he should avoid, and at the same moment I distinctly saw some dark +body crouched down behind one of them and swaying slightly backwards and +forwards. + +I broke at once into a run, but before the echoes of my warning shout had +died away a figure sprang like a wild cat at Mr. Marx's throat. There was +a flash and a sharp report, but from the direction of the former I could +see that the revolver had been knocked up into the air and exploded +harmlessly. + +When at last I reached the assailant and his victim it was a fearful +sight I looked upon. The face of the lunatic was ghastly and his wild +eyes almost started from their sockets in his rage. + +White and emaciated as a skeleton's, his face was still capable of +expression--and such an expression. A frenzied desire to kill seemed to +be his sole aim, and his long, skinny fingers clutched Mr. Marx's throat +as in a vice. The latter's eyeballs were protruding from his head and his +breath was coming in short, agonised pants; yet all the while Mr. Marx +was holding the madman in such a fierce grip that I could hear his ribs +snapping like whalebone. + +My arrival saved Mr. Marx from a speedy death by strangulation. Though I +lifted the lunatic up in my arms and strained every muscle to pull him +away, his fingers never relaxed till I stopped his breath and rendered +him momentarily unconscious. + +I waited for Mr. Marx to come to himself, my foot resting lightly upon +the prostrate body of his assailant. Soon he rose slowly to his feet and +began groping about in the road. + +"What do you want?" I asked. "Lost anything?" + +"My revolver." + +I pointed to where it lay gleaming in the moonlight. He picked it up and +set it to an undischarged barrel. I watched him curiously. + +"You won't want that again," I remarked. "What are you going to do with +it?" + +"I am going to put that beast out of his misery," he answered. "Stand out +of the way!" + +"Nonsense! You will do nothing of the sort!" I cried hotly. "What! kill +an insensible man? He has as much right to live as you. You shall not +commit murder in my presence: and, least of all, shall you kill a poor +insane creature like this. Put that thing up!" + +An awful look flashed into his face, and, as he suddenly raised his arm, +I looked into the dark muzzle of his revolver. + +With a quick spring I wrenched the revolver from his hand, and, bending +backwards, threw it far away into the bracken. + +"I don't know what you were going to do, Mr. Marx," I said, looking at +him steadily, "but it seems to me that you are not a fit person to be +trusted with firearms." + +He stood still, speechless with rage. I turned my back upon him and +found, to my surprise, that the man whose life Mr. Marx had so much +desired was lying on his side, looking at me with wide-open eyes. + +"Well, have your own way," Mr. Marx said, quietly; "I dare say you are +right. There was no need to be violent, or to throw away my favourite +revolver. What do you propose to do with him?" + +Mr. Marx advanced, but at the sight of him the lunatic, who was leaning +heavily upon my arm, and groaning with pain, shrank down upon the ground, +cowering at my feet like a dog. He covered his face with his hands and +broke into one of the most pitiful cries of distress that I have ever +heard from human lips. I motioned Mr. Marx back. + +"I can manage him alone, I think; and the sight of you upsets him. Will +you follow us down?" + +Mr. Marx advanced a step or two, his eyes flashing with anger. Then +suddenly he turned his back upon us, and, without a word, walked rapidly +away. I raised my prisoner, and half carried, half dragged him back to +the farm. + +In a few hours the doctor from Rothland had arrived and speedily set the +broken bones. He seemed much interested in the case and made a careful +examination. + +"Do you think he has been a lunatic long?" I asked. + +The doctor shook his head. + +"On the contrary," he replied, "I should say his madness has come on +quite recently--the effect of some severe shock probably. If he is +treated properly there is no doubt that he will regain his reason." + +In a few days the lunatic was pronounced well enough in health to be +moved; and as all inquiries and advertisements about him proved +fruitless, he was consigned to the county asylum at Torchester. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIII. + MY GUARDIAN. + + +On the third day after my adventure in the park Mr. Ravenor called to see +me. He came in splashed from head to foot and had evidently ridden a long +distance and fast. I offered him a chair and some refreshment, for he +looked pale and tired, but he declined both, and walked slowly up and +down the room, his hands grasping a long riding-whip behind his back. + +"I can only give you a minute or two now, Morton," he said, with some +slight return of his former brusque _hauteur_; "I am expecting visitors +from London to-night and must get back to receive them. But there is +something I must say to you. You will be surprised to hear that your +mother has left you a considerable property?" + +I was very much surprised. + +"Are you quite sure of this, Mr. Ravenor?" I ventured to ask. "My mother +always spoke to me as though we were poor." + +"I do not make mistakes," he answered, pausing in his walk and looking +down upon me from his great height with knitted brows and piercing eyes, +"least of all in matters of such importance. How much the exact sum will +amount to I cannot tell yet, but it is more than twenty thousand pounds, +so you will be able to choose your own profession. What will it be, I +wonder--the Bar, the Army, the Church, agriculture? Come, you are a boy +of imagination and have never been in love. You must have had day-dreams +of some sort. Whither have they led you?" + +"Not to any of the professions which you have mentioned," I answered +promptly. + +"Then where? Tell me. I am curious to know." + +"My ideas have always been very vague," I said slowly. "I should like to +live quite away from any town, to read a good deal, and to spend the rest +of my time out of doors; and then, perhaps, after a time, I might try to +think something out and put it into words." + +"In short, you would like to be an author," Mr. Ravenor broke in, with a +slight smile. + +"Yes; but I should not want to write to amuse people, or to become +famous," I went on, encouraged by Mr. Ravenor's gravity. "I should like +to make people think. I should like to make them turn aside from the +groove of their daily life and realise that the world is full of greater +and higher things than mere material prosperity. Men seem to me to find +their daily work and pleasure too absorbing. They think of themselves and +others only as individuals, never as limbs of a great common humanity +with a mighty destiny. The world grows narrower and narrower for them as +they grow older, instead of broader and broader. It is because they +neglect the use of their imagination--at least, so it seems to me." + +"Have you read Hibbet's little pamphlets?" Mr. Ravenor asked. + +"Both of them," I answered. "I like his ideas." + +"Have your clothes come from Torchester?" he inquired, with apparent +irrelevance. + +"Yes; they came last week," I told him, wondering. + +"Very well; put on your dress-suit and come up to the Castle at eight +o'clock to-night. You shall dine with me and meet Hibbet." + +Meet Sir Richard Hibbet! Dine at the same table! My cheeks flushed and my +heart beat fast. Life was opening out for me. + +"Yes; he and Marris and Williams, the publisher, you know, are all +staying at the Castle. There will be some more of them down to-night. +Don't be late. I will find time, if I can, to have some talk with you, +for I want you to go to Dr. Randall's next week." + +He nodded and took his departure. I watched him mount his horse and +gallop away across the open park. Then I started for a solitary walk, to +ponder my altered prospects. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIV. + MY FIRST DINNER PARTY. + + +At a quarter to eight I stood in the great hall of Ravenor Castle. On my +first visit its vastness and gloom had somewhat chilled me; now it was +altogether different. A small army of servants in picturesque livery and +with powdered hair were moving noiselessly about. Soft lights were +burning on many brackets, dispelling the deep shades which had hung +somewhat drearily about; and there was a fragrant perfume of flowers and +a pleasant sense of warmth in the air. I began to understand at once the +stories I had heard of the luxury and magnificence with which Mr. Ravenor +entertained his guests on the rare occasions when he threw open his +doors. + +Mr. Ravenor was in his private rooms, I was told, and his own groom of +the chambers, who had been summoned to take my name, ushered me, after a +moment's hesitation, into the library. I walked to the fire, for I was +cold, probably through being unused to wearing such thin clothes; and, +standing there with my hands behind my back, looked around with a feeling +almost of awe at the vast collection of books with which I was +surrounded. + +"And who are you, please?" + +I started and looked in the direction from which the voice--a sweet, +childish treble--came. Seated demurely in the centre of a large armchair, +with tumbled hair, and a book upon her lap, was a very young lady. Her +clear blue eyes were fixed calmly but inquiringly upon me, as though +expecting an immediate answer, and there was a slight frown upon her +forehead. Altogether, for such a diminutive maiden, she appeared rather +formidable. + +"I didn't know that you were there," I said, in explanation of my start. +"My name is Morton--Philip Morton." + +She looked me over gravely and critically, and succeeded in making me +feel uncomfortable. Apparently, however, the examination ended in my +favour, for the frown disappeared and she closed her book. + +"Philip is pretty," she said condescendingly. "I don't think much of +Morton. I rather like Philip, though." + +"I--I'm glad of that," I answered lamely. It was very ridiculous, but I +could think of nothing else to say. I wanted to say something brilliant, +but it wouldn't come; so I stood still and looked at her and got rather +red in the face. + +"Do you know who I am?" she asked. + +"Haven't the least idea," I admitted. + +She leaned her small, delicate head upon her hand and began swaying her +feet slowly backwards and forwards. + +"I am Lady Beatrice Cecilia--my mother is Lady Silchester," she said. "Do +you think it is a pretty name?" + +"Very," I answered, biting my lip; "much prettier than mine." + +"Do you know, I think you are a nice boy!" she proceeded. "I rather like +you." + +"I'm so glad!" I answered, feeling unreasonably delighted. "I'm sure that +I like you," I added fervently. + +"It's very good of you to say so, when you've only just seen me," she +remarked; "but you can't be quite sure. You don't know anything about me, +you see. I might be dreadfully disagreeable." + +"But I'm sure you're not," I answered, feeling that I was getting on. + +She was good enough to seem pleased at my confidence; but she made no +further remark for a minute or two, during which I racked my brains in +vain for some effective remark, with my eyes fixed upon her. She +certainly made a very charming picture, curled up in the great black oak +chair, with the firelight playing upon her ruddy golden hair and +glistening in her bright eyes. + +"You've been reading, haven't you?" I asked, pointing to the book which +lay in her lap. + +"It's not a nice book at all!" she said decidedly. "I don't like any of +the books here. Oh!" + +I turned round quickly, for I saw that she was looking behind me. +Standing on the threshold of his inner room was the tall, dark figure of +Mr. Ravenor, handsomer than ever, it seemed to me, in his plain evening +dress. + +Slowly he advanced out of the shadows, with a faint smile upon his pale +face, and laid his hand upon her shoulder, looking first at my little +hostess and then at me. + +"So you've been entertaining one of my guests for me, Trixie, have you?" +he said. "Rather late for you to be up, isn't it? Your nurse has been +looking for you everywhere." + +"Then I suppose I must go," Lady Beatrice Cecilia remarked deliberately. +She rose, shook her hair out, and, replacing the book which she had been +reading upon the shelf, prepared to depart. But first she came up to +where I was standing on the hearthrug and held out her little white hand. + +"Good-night, Philip Morton," she said, looking up at me with a grave +smile. "I am very glad that you came in here to talk to me. I was so +dull." + +I made some reciprocative speech, which, if it was somewhat awkwardly +expressed, had at least the merit of earnestness, and my eyes followed +her admiringly as she walked to the door and disappeared with a backward +glance and a smile. Then I started and coloured, to find that Mr. Ravenor +was watching me. + +"I don't know why they should have brought you here," he said. "Come this +way." + +I followed Mr. Ravenor across the hall into a suite of rooms hung with +satin, opening out one from another, and seeming to my inexperience like +a succession of brilliantly-lit fairy chambers. In the smallest and most +remote room three men were standing talking together, and in a low chair +by their side reclined Lady Silchester, holding a dainty screen of +peacock feathers between her face and the fire, and listening to the +conversation with a slightly bored air. She was in full evening toilette, +and several rows of diamonds flashed and sparkled with every rise and +fall of her snow-white throat. Afterwards I grew to look upon Lady +Silchester as a good type of the well-bred society woman; but then she +was a revelation to me--the revelation of a new species. + +My appearance seemed at first to surprise and then slightly to discompose +her, but both emotions passed away at once and she welcomed me with a +charming little smile as she languidly raised her hand and placed it +within mine for a moment. + +At our entrance the conversation ceased for a moment. Mr. Ravenor laid +his hand upon my shoulder and turned towards the little group. + +"Sir Richard, let me introduce to you a young ward of mine and a disciple +of yours. Sir Richard Hibbet--Mr. Morton; Professor Marris--Mr. Morton; +Mr. Later--Mr. Morton." + +They all shook hands with me, and, widening their circle a little, +continued the conversation. + +This was interrupted presently by the announcement of dinner, the +Professor taking in our hostess, the others following, Mr. Ravenor and I +bringing up the rear. + +There was no lack of conversation during dinner, though gradually it +turned towards purely literary matters and remained there. To me it was +altogether fascinating, although it was often beyond my comprehension. + +Long after Lady Silchester had departed we sat round the small table +glittering with plate and finely-cut glass, and loaded with choice +flowers and wonderful fruits; and my senses were almost dazed by the +brilliancy of my material surroundings, and the ever-flowing +conversation, which seemed always to be teaching me something new and +opening up fresh fields of thought. At times I scarcely knew which most +to admire--the dry, pungent wit and caustic remarks of the Professor; the +perfectly expressed, classical English of Mr. Later; the sound, good +sense of Sir Richard, seasoned with an apparently inexhaustible stock of +anecdotes and quotations culled from all imaginable sources; or the +brilliant epigrams, the trenchant criticisms, and the occasional flashes +of genuine eloquence by means of which Mr. Ravenor, with rare art, +continually stimulated the talk. + +Almost unnoticed, Mr. Marx, still in his morning coat, with pale face and +dark rims under his eyes, had entered and sank wearily into a seat; but, +although he listened with apparent interest, he took no part in the war +of words which was flashing around him. Suddenly it all came to an end. +Mr. Ravenor glanced at his watch and rose. + +"Gentlemen," he said, "I must ask you to excuse me for an hour. If you +care to see the library, Mr. Marx will show it you, or the smoking-room +and billiard-room are at your service. Or if you care to remain here +there is plenty more of the yellow-seal claret and the cigars are upon +the table. Philip, I want you." + +I rose and followed him towards the door. As I did so I had to pass Mr. +Marx, who had left his seat on some pretext. He leaned over towards me, +haggard and pale, and pushed a slip of paper into my fingers. + +"Read it at once," he muttered, in a quick, low tone. Then he moved up +and took Mr. Ravenor's place at the head of the table. + +I felt inclined to throw it back to him; but I did not. Passing across +the hall, I unfolded it and read these few words, scrawled in a large, +shaking hand: + +"You must not go to Dr. Randall's. Mr. Ravenor will give you a choice. Go +anywhere but there. If you neglect this warning you will repent it all +your life. I swear it. Tear this up," + + + + + CHAPTER XXV. + MR. MARX'S WARNING. + + +My first impulse, on glancing through Mr. Marx's brief note, was to show +it to Mr. Ravenor; but, after a second's consideration, I changed my +mind. Mr. Marx was a complete mystery to me. At times it seemed possible +that the interest which he undoubtedly showed in me was genuine and +kindly, and I struggled against my dislike of the man. Then I remembered +his brutal conduct to the lunatic and the other inexplicable parts of his +behaviour, and the darkest suspicions and doubts began to take shape in +my imagination. + +There was something altogether mysterious about him--his connection with +Mr. Ravenor and his manner towards myself. I was puzzled and more than +half inclined to decide against the man whom personally I had grown to +detest. But, on the other hand, I was young and still an optimist with +regard to my fellow-men. + +What harm had I done Mr. Marx, and why should he seek to injure me? It +seemed improbable, almost ridiculous. So in the end a certain sense of +fairness induced me to respect his postscript, and I said nothing to Mr. +Ravenor about his secretary's warning. + +My interview with him was a very short one indeed. He led the way into +the study in which I had first seen him and, closing the door, turned +round and faced me upon the hearthrug. The room was dimly lit, but where +he stood the fast-dying fire cast a faint glow around his tall, straight +figure, and showed me a face cold and resolute as marble, but not unkind. + +"Philip Morton," he said slowly, "it has occurred to me that in wishing +you to go to Lincolnshire, I may have been influenced to a certain extent +by selfish considerations. If you have the slightest preference for a +public school----" + +I knew instinctively whence that idea had come and I interrupted him. + +"Nothing should induce me to go anywhere else but to Dr. Randall's!" I +exclaimed firmly. + +"In that case," he continued, "I wish you to leave tomorrow. You will be +ready?" + +I assented at once. + +"I, too, am leaving here--it may be for a very long while," he went on. +"In two months' time I hope to start for Persia, and between now and then +my movements will be uncertain. I cannot settle down here. It is +useless." + +A great weariness shone out of his dark blue eyes and he stifled a sigh. +Some thought or memory coloured with regret had flashed across his mind; +but what it was I could not tell. + +"You remember your mother's letter to you and her dying request?" he +continued, in a changed tone. "I cannot explain it now, although I must +remind you of it. This packet"--and he passed me a large, sealed +envelope--"contains a chequebook, the address of the lawyer who will +manage your affairs, and a letter which you will not open unless you have +certain news and proof of my death. You will find that you are, +comparatively speaking, rich. How this comes about I cannot tell you now, +and you must remember your mother's dying injunction not to seek to find +out until the time comes, when you will know everything. At present, I +can only assure you that the money is yours by right, that it is not a +gift, and that no one else has any claim to it. That is all I can say +upon the subject. Are you satisfied?" + +Curiosity seemed a mean thing to me as I listened to my guardian's words +and looked into his sad, stern face. All the old fascination which I had +felt from the first in his presence was strong upon me that night. +Whatever he had bidden me to do I should have done it. And so I answered: + +"I am satisfied. What you tell me is mine I will take and ask no +questions." + +"That is well," he said quietly. "And now, one word about your future, +Philip, for to-morrow you will take up some of the responsibilities of +early manhood. A great man once said that the best adviser of youth was +the man whose own life had been a failure. If this be anything more than +a paradox, then there can be no one better fitted for that post than I. +Already the flavour of life has become like dead ashes between my teeth; +and the fault is my own. Mr. Marris was talking a great deal of nonsense +in the drawing-room before dinner this evening. I want to say just one or +two words to you on the same subject, and remember that I speak as an +outsider, impersonally. + +"Before I was twenty-one years old, I had studied in most of the schools +of modern philosophy, and had thrown off my religion like an old rag. I +was inflated with a sense of my own intellectual superiority over other +men. It was philosophy which taught men to live, I declared, and +philosophy which taught them to die. With that motto before me, I +carefully set myself to annihilate every vestige of faith with which I +had ever been endowed. I succeeded--too well. It is dead; and sometimes I +fear that it will never reawaken. And what am I? As miserable a man as +ever drew breath upon this earth. It seems to me as though I had crushed +a part of my very life and the sore will rankle for ever. + +"There is a part of man's nature, Philip--that is to say, of such men as +I have been and you will be--the sympathetic, emotional, reverential +part, which cries out for some belief in a higher, an infinite Power, for +some sort of religion which it can cling to and entwine with every action +of daily life. You must satisfy that craving if you desire to know +happiness. For me there is no such knowledge. I have deliberately +committed spiritual suicide; I have torn up faith by the roots and have +made a void in my heart, which nothing else can ever fill. Frankly, I +tell you, Philip, that there are times when religion of any sort seems to +me no better than a fairy-tale. It need not seem so to you. Shape out for +yourself any form of belief--that of the Christian is as good as any +other--and resolutely cling to it. It is my advice to you--mine who +believe in no God and no future state. Follow it and farewell!" + +He held out his hand and clasped mine for a moment. I would have spoken, +but before I could find words he had disappeared through a curtained door +into his inner apartment. So I turned away and went. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVI. + A LOST PHOTOGRAPH. + + +It was about five o'clock on as dreary an afternoon as I ever remember, +when the slow train, which crawls always at a most miserable pace from +Peterborough across the eastern counties, deposited me at Little Drayton. +Besides the station-master there were but two people on the wet +platform--one a porter, who made for my bags with almost wolflike +alacrity after a moment's amazed stare, at me, presumably at the rare +advent of a passenger with luggage; the other was a thin, dark young man, +clad in a light mackintosh with very large checks, and smoking a long +cigar. Whilst I was collecting my things he came leisurely up and +accosted me. + +"Your name Morton?" he inquired, without removing his cigar from his +teeth. + +I assented. + +"Have you come down to meet me?" I asked. + +"Yes; old Randall's gone out to dinner, so he asked Cis and me to come +and fetch you. Cart's outside; but we can't take all the luggage. Just +look out what you want, will you, and we'll send for the rest to-morrow." + +I selected a portmanteau and followed him out of the station. A light, +four-wheeled brown cart was waiting, drawn by a pair of small, +clever-looking cobs, altogether a very smart turnout. + +"Pitch that bag in behind, porter," ordered my new acquaintance. "Now, +then, Mr. Morton, if you're ready we'll be off. Your train's half an hour +late, and Cis will be wondering what's become of us." + +"Is Cis Mr. Ravenor's nephew, Silchester?" I asked, as I clambered up +beside him. + +"Oh, yes! By the bye, I ought to have introduced myself, oughtn't I? My +name is de Cartienne--Leonard de Cartienne." + +"And are you Dr. Randall's other pupil?" I inquired. + +"Yes; I'm doing a grind there. Beastly slow it is, too. You'll be sorry +you've come, I can tell you, before very long." + +Looking around me, I was inclined to think that that was not improbable. +It was too dark to see far, but what I could see was anything but +promising. The country was perfectly flat, dreary, and barren, and the +view was unbroken by tree, or hedge, or hill. By the side of the road was +a small canal, over the sullen waters of which, and across the road, +brooded spectral-like clouds of mist. The rain still fell rapidly, and +the wheels of our cart ran noiselessly in the sandy, paste-like mud. + +"Ghastly night, isn't it?" remarked my companion, breaking the silence +again. + +"Rather!" I assented vigorously. "What a flat, ugly country, too! I never +saw anything like it." + +"Beastly country! beastly place altogether!" de Cartienne agreed. "I'm +jolly sick of it, I can tell you! Steady, Brandy! steady, sir!" giving +the near animal a cut with the whip. + +"What do you call your horses?" I asked curiously. + +"Brandy and Soda. Jolly neat name for a pair. Don't you think so?" + +"Uncommon, at any rate," I answered ambiguously. "Didn't you say that we +were to call for Silchester somewhere?" + +"Mean Cis? Oh, yes; we've got to pick him up at the Rose and Crown." + +"A hotel?" + +"Well, hardly. Fact is," de Cartienne continued, dropping his voice a +little, and glancing behind to see whether the groom was listening--"fact +is, Cis is a bit inclined to make a fool of himself. There's a pretty +girl at this place and he puts in an uncommon lot of time there. Awfully +pretty girl she is, really," he added confidentially. "Won't stand any +nonsense, either. The place is only a pub., after all, but everyone who +goes there has to behave himself. She won't have a lot of fellows +dangling about after her, though she might have the whole town if she +liked. Makes her all the more dangerous, I think." + +"And Lord Silchester----" + +"Hang the 'lord'!" interrupted my companion, whipping his horses. + +"Well, Silchester, then! I suppose he admires her very much?" + +"Admires her! I should think he does! He's awful spoons on her! It's +quite sickening the way they go on sometimes. There's a regular stew on +there to-night, though, tremendous scene." + +"What about?" + +"Well, it seems that Milly's father--he's the landlord of the place, you +know--left home about a month ago, saying he was going up to London on +some business. He was expected back in a fortnight or three weeks; but +he's never turned up and he hasn't written. So at last Milly sent up to +the place where he always stops in town and also to some friends whom he +was going to see. This morning a reply comes from both of them. Nothing +has been seen or heard of him at all. Of course, Milly imagines the worst +at once, goes off into hysterics, and, when we called this evening on our +way down, was half out of her mind." + +"And so Silchester stopped with her to console her?" + +"Exactly," assented de Cartienne, with a queer smile. "Shouldn't wonder +if he succeeded, either!" + +We entered the street of an old-fashioned, straggling town, the +glimmering lights of which had been in sight for some time. de Cartienne, +sitting forward a little, devoted his whole attention to the horses, for +the stones were wet and slippery, and Brandy seemed to shy at everything +and anything which presented itself, from the little pools of water +glistening in the lamplight, which lay in the hollows of the road, down +to his own shadow. I looked round curiously. The old-fashioned +market-place, the quaintly built houses, the dimly lit shops, and little +knots of gaping rustics, whom our rapid approach scattered right and +left, were, at any rate, more interesting and pleasanter to look upon +than the damp, miserable country outside. Suddenly we pulled up with a +jerk outside a small, but clean-looking inn, and the groom leaped down +from behind and made his way to the horses' heads. + +"Take them up the street a little, John," said de Cartienne, as he +descended. "No need to advertise Cis's folly to the whole town," he +added, in a lower tone. "Come on, Morton, we'll go and rout him out." + +I stepped across the wet pavement after him and, stooping low down, +crossed the threshold of the "Rose and Crown." We passed by a room in +which several labouring men were drinking mugs of beer, and entered the +bar, in which a rosy-cheeked country damsel was exchanging noisy and not +too choice badinage with one or two young men who hung about her. From +here another door led into an inner room and at this de Cartienne +somewhat ostentatiously knocked. There was a second's pause; then a +clear, pleasant voice sang out "Come in!" and we entered. + +It was a small, cosy room, not ill-furnished, and with a cheerful fire +burning in the grate. Leaning against the mantelpiece, with his face +towards us, was Cis, whose likeness to Lady Beatrice was so remarkable +that I liked him heartily before we had exchanged a word. Standing by his +side, with her head suspiciously near his shoulder, was a very fair girl, +with nice figure and complexion and large blue eyes. Her face was +certainly pretty, but it was not of a very high type of prettiness. The +features, although regular of their sort, were not in any way refined or +_spirituelle_, nor was there anything in her expression to redeem her +from the mediocrity of good looks. + +Still, she was undoubtedly a nice-looking girl, quite pretty enough to be +the belle of a country place, and, on the whole, I was rather relieved to +find her attractions of so ordinary a kind. There could scarcely be +anything dangerous, I thought, in this good-humoured doll's face; she did +not appear to have the daring or character to lead her boyish admirer +over the borders of a spooning sentimentality. At any rate, that was not +written in her face. A blunt physiognomist would probably have declared +that there was not enough of the devil in her to fire the blood even of +an impetuous, generous boy and urge him on to recklessness. It seemed so +to me and I was glad of it. + +Just at present there were traces of tears in her face and a generally +woe-begone expression. Her companion, too, looked upset and sympathetic; +but he glanced up with a bright smile when we entered. + +"You're Philip Morton, I suppose?" he exclaimed, holding out his hand. +"Glad to see you! Heard of you from my uncle, you know!" I shook hands +with him and he introduced me formally to the young woman at his side, +calling her Miss Hart. Then he turned to me again. + +"I quite meant to have been at the station to meet you," he said; "but we +called here first and I--I was detained." + +"It's of no consequence at all," I assured him. "Mr. de Cartienne was +there." + +"And Mr. de Cartienne having had to wait half an hour in the rain at that +infernal old shed they call a station, requires a little refreshment," +chimed in the person named. "Will the fair Millicent condescend, or shall +I ring?" + +She rose and, crossing the room, opened the door into the bar. + +"Brandy-and-soda for me," ordered de Cartienne. "Cis is drinking whisky, +I see, so he'll have another one, and we'll have a large bottle of +Apollinaris between us. Morton, what'll you have?" + +I decided upon claret and hot water, never having tasted spirits. De +Cartienne made a wry face, but ordered it without remark. + +"I say, Morton, I don't know what you'll think of us shacking about in a +public-house like this, and bringing you here, your first night, too!" +exclaimed Silchester, dragging his chair up to mine. "Bad form, isn't it? +But it is so dull in the evenings and Milly's no end of a nice girl. No +one could help liking her. Besides, she's in dreadful trouble just now," +he continued, dropping his voice. "Her father has disappeared suddenly. +Awfully mysterious affair and no mistake. We can't make head or tail of +it." + +"It is uncommonly queer," admitted de Cartienne, who was lounging against +the wall beside us. "I should have said that he'd gone off on the spree +somewhere, but he couldn't have kept it up so long as this." + +"Besides, he'd only a few pounds with him," Cecil remarked. + +"Seems almost as though he'd come to grief in some way," I said. + +"I daren't tell Milly, but I don't know what else to think," Cecil +acknowledged. + +A wild idea flashed for a moment into my mind, only to die away again +almost as rapidly. It was too utterly improbable. Nevertheless, I asked +Cecil a question with some curiosity: + +"What sort of looking man was he?" + +Cecil and de Cartienne both began to describe him at once, and, as de +Cartienne modified or contradicted everything Cecil said, I was soon in a +state of complete bewilderment as to the personality of the missing man. +It seemed that he was short, and of medium height; that he was fair, and +inclined to be dark, stout and thin, pale and ruddy. Milly put in a word +or two now and then; and, what with de Cartienne dissenting from +everything she said, and Cecil, a little perplexed, siding first with one +and then with the other, the description naturally failed to carry to my +mind the slightest impression of Mr. Hart's appearance. At last, rather +impatiently, I stopped them. + +"I'm afraid I am guilty of a somewhat unreasonable curiosity," I said, +"for I haven't any real reason for asking; but haven't you a photograph +of your father, Miss Hart? I can't follow the description at all." + +I happened to be looking towards de Cartienne while I made my request, +and suddenly, from no apparent cause, I saw him start, and a strange look +came into his face. At first I thought he must be ill; but, seeing my +eyes fixed upon him, he seemed to recover himself instantly, though he +was still deadly pale. + +"Why, what the mischief are you staring at, Morton?" asked Cecil. + +"Oh, nothing!" I answered. "I thought that de Cartienne was ill, that's +all." + +Cecil glanced at him curiously. + +"By George! he does look rather white about the gills, doesn't he? Say, +old chap, are you ill?" + +de Cartienne shook his head. + +"Oh, it's nothing!" he said carelessly. "Don't all stare at me as though +I were some sort of natural curiosity, please. I feel a bit queer, but +it's passing off. I think, if Miss Milly will allow me, I'll go and sit +down in the other room by myself for a few minutes." + +"I'll come with you!" exclaimed Cecil, springing up. "Poor old chap!" + +"No, don't, please!" protested de Cartienne. "I would rather be alone; I +would indeed. I shall be all right directly." + +He quitted the room by another door, and we three were left alone. Cecil +and Miss Milly began a conversation in a low tone, and I, feeling +somewhat _de trop_, took up a local newspaper and affected to be engaged +in its contents. After a few minutes, however, Cecil remembered my +existence. + +"By the bye, Milly," he said, "Morton was asking you whether you had not +a photograph of your father. There's one in the sitting-room, isn't +there?" + +She nodded. + +"Well, we'll go and look at it and see how Leonard is. He looked +uncommonly seedy, didn't he? Come along, Morton." + +We crossed a narrow passage and entered a small parlour. Miss Hart walked +up to the mantelpiece and Cecil and I remained looking round. + +"Hallo!" he exclaimed. "Leonard isn't here; I wonder where----" + +He was interrupted by a cry of blank surprise from Miss Hart. + +"What's the matter now? How you startled me, Milly!" he exclaimed, +hurrying to her side. "What is it?" + +"Why, the photograph!" + +"What about it?" + +"It's gone!" + + + + + CHAPTER XXVII. + LEONARD DE CARTIENNE. + + +We all three stood and looked at one another for a moment, Milly Hart +with her finger still pointing to the vacant place where the photograph +had been. Then Cecil broke into a short laugh. + +"We're looking very tragical about it," he said lightly. "Mysterious +joint disappearance of Leonard de Cartienne and a photograph of Mr. Hart. +Now, if it had been a photograph of a pretty girl instead of a +middle-aged man, we might have connected the two. Hallo!" + +He broke off in his speech and turned round. Standing in the doorway, +looking at us, was Leonard de Cartienne, with a slight smile on his thin +lips. + +"Behold the missing link--I mean man!" exclaimed Cecil. "Good old +Leonard! Do you know, you gave us quite a fright. We expected to find you +here and the room was empty. Are you better?" + +"Yes, thanks! I'm all right now," he answered. "I've been out in the yard +and had a blow. What's Milly looking so scared about? And what was it I +heard you say about a photograph?" + +"Father's likeness has gone," she explained, turning round with tears in +her eyes. "It was there on the mantelpiece this afternoon and now, when +we came in to look at it, it has gone!" + +"I should think that, if it really has disappeared," de Cartienne +remarked incredulously, "the servant must have moved it. Ask her." + +Miss Hart rang the bell and in the meantime we looked about the room. It +was all in vain. We could find no trace of it, nor could the servant who +answered the summons give us any information. She had seen it in its +usual place early in the morning when she had been dusting. Since then +she had not entered the room. + +"Deuced queer thing!" declared Cecil, when at last we had relinquished +the search. "Deuced queer!" he repeated meditatively, with his hands +thrust deep down in his trousers' pockets and his eyes resting idly upon +de Cartienne's face. "But we can't do anything more, that's certain. We +really must be off, Milly. We've been here almost an hour already, and +Brandy and Soda must be getting restless, and you must be famished, I'm +sure, Morton. Come along! Good-bye, Milly! Keep your spirits up, old +girl! The governor'll be bound to turn up again in a day or two. And +don't you worry about the photograph. It must be somewhere." + +"But it isn't!" she declared tearfully. "We've looked everywhere! Oh, +what shall I do?" + +Cecil assumed a most lugubrious expression and looked down +sympathetically into her tear-stained face. She certainly was uncommonly +pretty. + +"You go on, you fellows," he said. "I'll be out in a minute. I'll drive, +Leonard. Don't think you're quite up to it." + +de Cartienne nudged my arm and we went off together and made our way up +the street to the inn, under the covered archway of which the trap was +drawn up. In a few minutes Cecil joined us. + +"Hope I haven't kept you waiting," he said, as he lighted a cigarette and +clambered up to the box-seat. "No, you come in front, Morton. That's +right. Very odd about that photograph, isn't it? It's gone and no +mistake. We've been having another look round." + +"Nonsense!" exclaimed de Cartienne impatiently. "What a fuss about a +trifle! A girl has no memory at all! I expect she moved it herself. Bet +you it turns up by the morning." + +"I think not," Cecil replied quietly, as he gathered up the reins. "Now +then, hold on behind!" + +We rattled off down the street and out into the open country again at a +pace which precluded any conversation. The low hedges and stunted trees +by the roadside seemed to fly past us, and a sudden turn, which almost +jerked me from my seat, brought us in sight of a wide semi-circle of +twinkling lights, which seemed to stretch right across the horizon. + +"What are they?" I asked, pointing forward. + +"Those? Oh, fishing-smacks!" answered Cecil. + +"Is that the sea, then?" I asked eagerly. + +He burst out laughing. + +"Why, what else do you suppose it is?" he exclaimed. "Can't you hear it?" + +I bent my head and listened. The faint night breeze was just sufficient +to carry to our ears the dull, monotonous roar of an incoming tide. + +"Not a very cheerful row, is it?" observed Cecil. + +"Cheerful! I call it the most infernally miserable sound I ever heard!" +growled de Cartienne, from the back seat, "enough to give a fellow the +horrors any day!" + +"See that bright light close ahead?" said Cecil, pointing with his whip. +"That's Borden Tower, where we hang out, you know. We shall be there in a +minute or two." + +"Perhaps!" growled de Cartienne from behind, making a nervous clutch at +the side of the trap, "Cis, my dear fellow, you're not driving a +fire-engine, and there's nothing to be gained by this confounded hurry. +George! I was nearly out that time." + +We had turned round a sharp corner into a winding drive, devoid of trees, +and planted only with stunted shrubs. On one side, between us and the +shore, was a long, irregular plantation of small fir trees, through which +the night wind was moaning with a sound not unlike the more distant roar +of the sea. Directly in front loomed a high dark building, standing out +with almost startling abruptness against a void of sky and moor. + +"Here we are!" exclaimed Cecil, pulling up with a flourish before the +front entrance. "John, help down the poor, nervous invalid behind, and +take Brandy and Soda round to the stable at once. They're too hot to +stand still in this damp air a second." + +We passed across a large but somewhat dreary hall into a warm, +comfortable dining-room. A bright fire was blazing in the grate, and a +table in the centre of the room was very tastefully laid for dinner. + +"Make yourself at home, Morton!" exclaimed Cecil, standing on the +hearthrug and stretching out a numbed hand to the blaze. "Draw an +easy-chair up to the fire while James unpacks your traps and sees to your +room. Leonard, ring the bell, there's a good fellow, and let them know +we're ready for dinner." + +"Thanks; I think I'll go upstairs at once," I remarked. + +"All right! Here's James; he'll show you your room. One servant between +three of us now. Good old James! I say, Morton, no swallow-tails, you +know." + +I nodded and followed the man, who was waiting in the doorway, to my +room. + +After my bare-floored, low-ceilinged attic at the farm, the apartment +into which I was ushered seemed a very temple of luxury. There was a soft +carpet upon the floor, many easy chairs, an Oriental divan, mirrors, and +solid, handsomely carved furniture. Leading out of it on one side was a +bath-room and on the other a small, cosy sitting-room, or study. + +"Is there anything more I can do for you, sir?" inquired the man, after +he had poured out my hot water and set out the contents of my +portmanteau. + +I shook my head and dismissed him. After a very brief toilet I hastened +downstairs. + +The dinner was remarkably good and I was very hungry; but I found time to +notice two things. The first was that Cecil drank a great deal more wine +than at his age was good for him; and the second, that de Cartienne, who +drank very little himself, concealed that fact as far as he was able and +passed the bottle continually to Cecil. This did not much surprise me, +for I had already formed my own opinion of de Cartienne. + +After dinner the man who waited upon us brought in some coffee and +withdrew. Cecil, whose cheeks were a little flushed, and whose eyes were +sparkling with more than ordinary brightness, rose and stretched himself. + +"I say, Leonard," he exclaimed, "let's adjourn to your room and have a +hand at cards! Shall we?" + +de Cartienne shrugged his shoulders, but did not offer to move. + +"I'm not particularly keen on cards to-night," he remarked, with a yawn. +"I believe, if you had your own way, you'd play from morning to night." + +"Oh, hang it all, there's nothing else to be done!" Cecil answered. "If +we stay down here we can't smoke, and we shall have old Grumps back +bothering presently." + +"I forgot we couldn't smoke," de Cartienne said, rising. "Come along, +then!" + +"You don't mind, Morton, do you?" Cecil asked, turning towards me. "It's +awfully cosy up in Len's room." + +"Certainly not," I answered, finishing my coffee. "I'll come, but I can't +play." + +"Oh, that doesn't matter! You can watch us for a bit, and you'll soon +pick it up. Hi, James!" Cecil sang out, as that worthy showed himself at +the door for a minute, "bring us up some whisky and half a dozen bottles +of seltzer water into Mr. de Cartienne's room, will you? Look sharp, +there's a good fellow!" + +de Cartienne's rooms, especially his study, were furnished far more +luxuriously than mine and in excellent taste. The walls and chimney-piece +were covered with charming little sketches, a few foreign prints, +photographs, and dainty little trifles of bric-a-brac. Except for the +photographs, some of which were a little _risque_, it was more like a +lady's boudoir than a man's sitting-room. + +de Cartienne and Cecil seated themselves at a small round table and began +to play almost immediately. I drew an easy chair up to the fire, and +closed my eyes as though I intended going to sleep. As a matter of fact, +I meant to watch the game, and closely, too. But Fate decided otherwise. +I was really very sleepy, and, though I struggled against it, I was +obliged to yield in the end. I fell asleep, and it must have been nearly +two hours before I was awakened by a touch on my arm. + +"Wake up, Morton, old chap! It's time we were off to our rooms." + +I sat up and looked at my watch. It was past midnight. + +Cecil was leaning against the table, with his hands in his pockets, +looking pale and weary, but exultant. + +"I've been in rare luck to-night!" he exclaimed. "Won a couple of ponies +from poor old Len, and a whole hatful of I O U's. Here they go!" And he +swept a little pile of crumpled papers into the fire. + +I glanced at de Cartienne to see how losing had affected him. Not in the +ordinary way, at any rate. He was sitting back in his chair, with his +arms crossed, a cigarette between his teeth and an inscrutable smile upon +his thin lips. Somehow I did not like his expression. There was something +a little too closely approaching contempt in it as he watched Cecil's +action and listened to the exultant ring in his tone--something which +seemed to express a latent power to reverse the result with ease at any +time he thought proper. + +It was rushing to conclusions, no doubt; but as I glanced from Cecil's +boyish, handsome face, a trifle dissipated just now, but open and candid, +to the pale, sallow countenance, the large black eyes, and cynical, +callous expression of his friend, it seemed to me that I was looking from +the face of the tempted to the face of the tempter. The one seemed like +the evil genius of the other. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVIII. + "AS ROME DOES." + + +I awoke on the following morning with that vague, peculiar sense of +having entered upon an altogether new phase of life. By degrees my +semi-somnolent faculties reasserted themselves and I remembered where I +was. My new life had indeed begun in earnest. + +I sprang out of bed and pulled up the blind. It was a very strange +prospect I looked out upon, after the luxuriant hilly scenery of the home +where I had lived all my life. Before me was a flat, uncultivated common, +dotted here and there with a few stunted gorse-bushes and numerous +sand-heaps. Farther away a long stretch of shingle sloped down to the +foam-crested sea which, under the grey, sunless sky of the early winter's +morning, had a dull, forbidding appearance. Though it was not an inviting +prospect, there was something attractive in its novelty, and, dropping +the blind, I hastened into the bath-room and began dressing. + +It was past eight o'clock when I got downstairs, but I saw no one about, +so I let myself out by the front door and walked down the drive. The +grounds were small and soon explored, and, having exhausted them, I +passed through a wicket-gate into a little plantation of pine-trees and +thence out on to the common. Then, for the first time in my life, I felt +a strong sea-breeze, and, with my cap in my hand and my face turned +seawards, I stood for a few moments thoroughly enjoying it. + +"Glad to see that you're an early riser, Mr. Morton. It's a habit which, +I'm sorry to say, my other pupils have not acquired." + +I turned round with a start. A tall, thin man, somewhat past middle age, +with iron-grey hair and thin, regular features, was standing by my side. +His eyes were the eyes of a visionary and a poet, and his worn, +thoughtful face bore the unmistakable stamp of the student. I liked his +appearance, careless and dishevelled though it was in point of attire, +and knowing that this must be Dr. Randall, I felt a keen sense of relief. + +For, bearing in mind the evident habits and last night's occupation of +Silchester and de Cartienne, I had begun to wonder somewhat +apprehensively what manner of man the master of such pupils might be. Now +I felt sure that the idea which had first occurred to me had been the +correct one, and that the doings of the night before were carried on +altogether under the rose. The man James had all the appearance of a +servant whom it would be easy to bribe. This without doubt had been done. + +"Perhaps they haven't lived all their lives in the country, sir, as I +have," I answered. "I have always been used to getting up early." + +"So you are my new pupil?" he said. "Well, Mr. Morton, I'm very pleased +to see you, and I have an idea that we shall get on very well together. I +was going to walk down to the sea. Will you come with me?" + +I followed him along the tortuous path to the shore, and on the way he +questioned me about my acquirements, putting me through a sort of +_viva-voce_ examination, the result of which appeared to satisfy him. + +"This is quite a pleasant surprise to me," he said, as we turned back to +the house. "You are almost as advanced as de Cartienne and far more so +than Silchester. I suppose you mean to matriculate?" + +I told him that I thought so, but he scarcely seemed to hear. Apparently +his mind had wandered to some other subject and for nearly a quarter of +an hour he remained absorbed. I learned afterwards that this was a habit +of his. + +With a start he came to himself, and, apologising for his +absent-mindedness, led the way back to the house and into the +breakfast-room. The cloth was laid for four and the urn was hissing upon +the table; but there was no one else down. + +"Is neither Lord Silchester nor Mr. de Cartienne up yet, James?" inquired +Dr. Randall. + +James believed not, but would ascertain. In a few moments he returned. + +"Lord Silchester desires me to say that he was reading late last night, +sir, and has overslept himself; but he will be down as soon as possible," +James announced solemnly. + +Remembering that James had been in attendance upon us in de Cartienne's +rooms last night, I thought that this was rather cool. But it was no +concern of mine and I held my peace. + +Dr. Randall frowned slightly and looked vexed. + +"It appears to me that Silchester does most of his reading at night," he +remarked. "I could wish that the results of it were a little more +apparent. And Mr. de Cartienne, James? Has he overslept himself, too?" + +"Mr. de Cartienne will be here immediately, sir," the man announced. + +We began breakfast. When we were about half-way through the meal, the +door opened and de Cartienne appeared. He cast an apprehensive glance at +me, and then, seeing that Dr. Randall greeted him as usual, looked +relieved. + +Presently the doctor left the table, bidding us join him in the study in +half an hour. Directly the door had closed de Cartienne leaned back in +his chair and laughed softly to himself. + +"Whatever made you get up so early?" he asked, looking at me curiously. +"Gave me quite a turn when I heard that you were down and alone with +Grumps; and Cis was in an awful funk. We were afraid that you might let +out something about last night--accidentally, of course; and then there +would have been the deuce to pay and no mistake. James, take my plate and +bring me a brandy-and-soda. Take care the doctor doesn't see you." + +"Whose servant is James?" I asked, as he disappeared--"yours or the +doctor's?" + +"The doctor imagines that he's his, I suppose; but he gets a lot more +from Cis and me than Grumps pays him," de Cartienne explained carelessly. +"I knew him before he came here, and got him to apply for the situation +by promising to double his wages." + +"And the advantages?" I asked. + +"Obvious enough, I should think. You've seen some of them already, and +you'll see some more before you've been here long." + +"I daresay. Perhaps it would be as well for me to tell you, de Cartienne, +that what I have seen I don't like." + +"Very likely not," he answered carelessly. "I thought directly I saw you +that you were a bit of a prig--I beg your pardon, I should say, rather +strait-laced. Still, I don't suppose you'll think it worth your while to +interfere. You can go your way and Cis and I can go ours." + +"That would make it a little dull for me," I said slowly. "Perhaps I am +not quite so strait-laced as you seem to think. I suppose you would teach +me how to play cards, if I desired to learn?" + +"Oh, certainly! And how to use this also," he remarked, drawing a +latchkey from his pocket and swinging it carelessly backwards and +forwards. + +"I think I will learn, then," I answered. "After all, this place would be +ghastly dull if I didn't do as you fellows do." + +He looked at me searchingly out of his keen dark eyes, but I sipped my +coffee leisurely and seemed to be quite unconscious of his scrutiny. +Apparently he was satisfied, for I saw the hard lines of his mouth relax +a little and he smiled--a disagreeable smile of contemptuous triumph. + +"I've no doubt you'll prove an apt pupil," he remarked. "Have you +finished? If so, we'll go and have a cigarette in my room before we start +work with Grumps." + +"Does the doctor allow smoking?" I asked. + +"To tell you the truth, Morton, we've never asked him. What the eye +doesn't see, the heart doesn't grieve over, you know. We go on that +principle, and smoke in our rooms with the doors shut and windows open. +Come along!" + + + + + CHAPTER XXIX. + A DINNER-PARTY SUB ROSA. + + +In less than a week's time I was master of the state of affairs at Borden +Tower. Dr. Randall, with the best possible intentions, was the worst +possible man that could have been chosen for the guardianship of two such +pupils as Lord Silchester and Leonard de Cartienne. He was a scholar and +a pedant, utterly unsuspicious and ignorant of the ways of the world, +himself so truthful and honourable that he could scarcely have imagined +deceit possible in others, and certainly not in his own wards. Of the +servants, James and his wife were the only ones in authority, and they +were the tools of de Cartienne. + +The latter I could not quite understand. The only thing about him +perfectly clear was that he was just the worst companion possible for +Silchester. For the rest, he was so clever that his presence here at all +as a pupil seemed unnecessary. He appeared to be rich and he took a deep +interest of some sort in Cecil. Seemingly it was a friendly interest, but +of that I did not feel assured. At any rate, it was an injurious +association for Cecil, and I determined to do everything in my power to +counteract it. + +To strike at once, to attempt to show him the folly of the courses into +which he was being led, I saw would be futile. I must have time and +opportunity. Any violent measures in such a case would be worse than +useless. My only course, obnoxious though it was, was to join them in +their pursuits and try to gain some sort of influence over Cecil, while I +kept him as far as possible from falling into further mischief. + +Accordingly, on the first evening after my arrival at Borden Tower, I was +initiated into the mysteries of poker and Prussian bank, and on +subsequent occasions I either joined them or looked on. The result in the +main was pretty much as I had expected. de Cartienne won always when the +stakes were very large, and Lord Silchester when they were scarcely worth +having. + +The earlier part of the day was by far the pleasanter to me. In the +morning we worked with Dr. Randall; in the afternoon we always walked or +rode--in either case, a visit to the "Rose and Crown" was an invariable +part of the programme--and in the evening, after dinner, we were supposed +to read until ten o'clock, although the manner in which we really spent +that portion of the day was far less profitable. + +I had intended paying a special visit to Miss Milly Hart on my own +account; but either by accident or design--at the time I was not sure +which--de Cartienne always seemed to frustrate my plans. Even to myself I +would not acknowledge that I had any other motive save pure curiosity; +but I was still determined by some means or other to see a photograph of +the missing Mr. Hart. The strange disappearance of the one in the +sitting-room at the inn--it had never been found--puzzled me, and +whenever I caught myself thinking of the incident, it was always in +connection with Leonard de Cartienne. It seemed very absurd, when I +considered the matter calmly, but nevertheless I could not escape from +it. It haunted me, as ideas sometimes will. + +One afternoon, about two months after my arrival at Borden Towers, Cecil +and I were reading together in the study--or, rather, I was endeavouring +to encourage one of his rare fits of industry by helping him through a +stiff page of Livy--when the door opened suddenly and de Cartienne +entered with an open telegram in his hand. Seeing me, he stopped short +and frowned. + +"Hallo, Len! What's up?" Cecil exclaimed. "What have you got there? A +telegram?" + +de Cartienne nodded and, after a moment's hesitation, handed it over. + +"It's from Fothergill," he explained. "He is coming over to-night, and +wants us to dine with him." + +"Should like to awfully," Cecil said, "but I don't see how we can. Old +Grumps wouldn't let us go, of course, and I don't see how we can manage +it without his knowing." + +"Don't you? Well, I do," de Cartienne remarked drily. "Grumps is going +over to Belscombe this evening to take the chair at the literary society +there. He'll have to dine at six and leave at a quarter to seven. I know +that, because I heard him give his orders. That will leave us plenty of +time to get down into the town by eight o'clock; and we shall be all +right for coming back, of course." + +"That's capital!" declared Cecil, shutting up his Livy with a bang. "We +will have our revenge on old Fothergill to-night. Just what I've been +looking forward to." + +de Cartienne shrugged his shoulders. + +"Well, I don't know," he said slowly. "I fancy. Fothergill is a bit too +good for us. I shan't be very keen on cards to-night, I can tell you. I +lost more money than I cared about last time he was here." + +Cecil laughed carelessly. + +"You didn't lose as much as I did," he remarked. "But, then, Fothergill +had all the luck. I never remember such a run of trumps as he held in +that last deal; and you played villainously, you know--gave him no end of +tricks." + +The very faintest suspicion of a smile--an evil smile it was--trembled on +de Cartienne's lips, and he turned away towards the window as though to +hide it. + +"I wasn't in very good form that night," he acknowledged. "I must make up +for it to-night, if we can get Fothergill to give us our revenge." + +Cecil drummed upon the table with his fingers and raised his eyebrows +slightly. + +"He can't very well refuse if we ask for it, can he?" + +"I suppose not," de Cartienne answered, lounging across the room towards +the door. "I'll go and see James and let him know that we shall want the +latchkey." + +"All right. And I say, Len," Cecil continued, "we must take Morton with +us, of course." + +de Cartienne turned round with an angry frown upon his dark face. + +"I scarcely see how that would be possible," he said stiffly. "I think it +would be taking rather a liberty with Fothergill. He only asks us two." + +In other circumstances I should promptly have refused to be one of the +party, especially as the invitation appeared to come from a friend of de +Cartienne's. But the darkening shade which I had seen flash across de +Cartienne's face reawakened all my suspicions with regard to him and I +instantly determined that, by some means or other, I would go. His +evident reluctance to invite me only strengthened my intention, so, +although he looked at me as if expecting to hear me express my +indifference as to whether I went or not, I purposely refrained from +doing anything of the sort. + +"Oh, that's all rot!" Cecil protested. "We can't go off and leave Morton +boxed up here by himself." + +"I don't suppose Morton would care much about it," said de Cartienne +sullenly. + +"On the contrary, I should enjoy it very much indeed," I interposed; +"although, of course, I don't wish to go if you think that your friend +would object," I added blandly. "It's rather dull here by oneself." + +"Of course it is! Morton, old chap, you shall go with us, never fear!" +Cecil declared vigorously. "Tell you what, Len, if you won't do the +agreeable and make things right with Fothergill--as you can, if you like, +of course--I shan't go, so there! Which is it to be--both or neither?" + +"Both, of course," de Cartienne answered, with as good grace as possible. +"I shouldn't have thought Morton would have cared about it, that's all. +Be ready punctually at half-past seven, you men." + +"All right!" exclaimed Cecil, delighted at getting his own way for a +change. "Good old Len! Morton, pitch that beastly Livy into the drawer +and come and change your things. We'll have some fun to-night!" + + + + + CHAPTER XXX. + ECARTE WITH MR. FOTHERGILL. + + +At a little before eight o'clock de Cartienne, Cecil, and I presented +ourselves at the bar of the "Bull" Hotel, and inquired for Mr. +Fothergill. We were shown at once by a waiter into a small private +sitting-room, brilliantly illuminated and unmistakably cosy. Under the +chandelier was a small round table glittering with plate and flowers; +and, standing upon the hearthrug, critically surveying it, was a +middle-aged, dapper-looking little man, in well-cut evening clothes, with +a white camellia in his buttonhole. + +His hair was slightly tinged with grey, but his moustache was still +jet-black and elaborately curled and waxed. His forehead was low and his +full red lips and slightly hooked nose gave him something of a Jewish +appearance. He had just missed being handsome, and, similarly, had just +missed being good form; at least, so it seemed to me from my first rapid +survey, and I did not afterwards change my opinion. + +Directly we entered the room he moved forward to meet us, with a smile +which revealed a very fine set of teeth. I watched him closely as he +noted the addition to the party, but he betrayed no surprise or +annoyance. On the contrary, when Cecil had introduced me as his friend +and fellow-pupil at Borden Tower, he welcomed me with a courtesy which +was a little effusive. On the whole, I decided that his manners were in +his favour. + +There was some casual conversation, an explanation rather more elaborate +than seemed to me necessary of his flying visit to Little Drayton, and +then dinner was announced. Everything had evidently been carefully +ordered and prepared and was of the best. Mr. Fothergill, whatever his +shortcomings, made a capital host; and his talk, though a trifle slangy +and coarse at times, was amusing in the extreme. Altogether, the dinner +was a success in every respect save one. For four men, two of whom were +under twenty, there was a great deal too much wine drunk. + +I think I scarcely noticed it until the cloth was removed and dessert +placed upon the table. Then a curious sense of exhilaration in my own +spirits warned me to be careful and I looked round at once at the others. + +Cecil sat directly opposite to me and I saw at a glance how it was with +him. His hair, which he always kept rather long, but carefully parted, +was disarranged and untidy; his neat tie had become crumpled and had +slipped up on one side; his eyes were sparkling, as though with some +unusual excitement, and there was a glow of colour in his cheeks almost +hectic in its intensity. + +At the head of the table our host was still smiling and debonair, looking +as though he had been drinking nothing stronger than water; and opposite +to him de Cartienne was leaning back in his chair with a faint tinge of +colour in his olive cheeks and a peculiar glitter in his dark eyes which +was anything but pleasant to look upon. Altogether, the appearance of the +trio was like a cold douche to me and brought me swiftly back to my +former watchfulness. I felt instinctively there was mischief brewing. + +"I say, Fothergill, let's have a hand at cards!" Cecil exclaimed, +breaking a momentary silence. "You owe us a revenge, you know! George! +didn't you clean us out last time we played! We'll clean you out +to-night, hanged if we won't! What shall it be?" + +Mr. Fothergill shrugged his shoulders deprecatingly. + +"Cards--cards! It's always cards!" he answered lightly. "Can't you think +of something else to do?" + +"Yes; hang cards!" muttered de Cartienne. + +"All right, I'm agreeable! But what the mischief else is there to do in +this dull hole?" asked Cecil discontentedly. + +"Oh, let's have a chat and a few more glasses of wine!" suggested Mr. +Fothergill. "I'm so lucky that I hate to play at cards. I always win." + +"Do you?" remarked Cecil, a little pettishly. "Well, look here, +Fothergill! I'll play you at any game you like to-night and beat you--so +there! I challenge you! You owe me a revenge. I want it!" + +Mr. Fothergill looked a little bored. + +"Of course, if you put it in that way," he said, "you leave me no +alternative. But, mind, I warn you beforehand, Silchester, I'm bound to +win! I don't want to win your money--I had enough last time I was +here--but if we play I shall win, whether I care about it or not. I'm in +a tremendous vein of luck just now." + +"We'll see about that," Cecil answered doggedly. "Let's ring for some +cards." + +"Or, rather, don't let's play here at all," interrupted de Cartienne. +"The people are awfully old-fashioned and particular and may want to turn +as out at eleven o'clock." + +"By George! we'll go round to the 'Rose and Crown!'" exclaimed Cecil. "I +haven't been there for two days. It's a decent little place and we can do +what we like there," he added, turning to Mr. Fothergill. "You don't +mind, do you?" + +"Not the least in the world!" declared our host, rising and stretching +himself. "Any place will do for me. The sooner the better, if we are +going, though. I don't want to be particularly late." + +We all rose, despatched the waiter for our overcoats and sallied out into +the cool night air. After the heated atmosphere of the room in which we +had been dining, the wintry breeze came as a sudden swift tonic. At the +corner of the street, looking seaward, Cecil and I stopped simultaneously +and bared our heads. + +"By George! how delicious a walk would be!" he exclaimed, fanning himself +with his cap. "I say, Phil, old chap, suppose we bolt and do the seashore +as far as Litton Bay?" + +"A splendid idea!" I exclaimed, taking him at his word and linking his +arm in mine. "Let's do it!" + +He burst out laughing. + +"Why, Phil, you know we can't!" he said. "I was only joking. Why, what on +earth would Fothergill think of us serving him such a trick as that?" + +"Oh, hang Fothergill!" I cried. "He only wants to win your money. I +wouldn't play with the fellow if I were you, Cecil. Can't you see he's a +cad?" + +He looked at me, confounded. + +"Why, hang it all," he said, "how can you refuse to play with a man after +you've eaten his dinner? Besides, can't you see that it isn't he who +wants to play at all? It was I who proposed it and even then he wasn't +keen." + +"All beastly cunning!" I muttered angrily. But I could say no more, for +de Cartienne and Mr. Fothergill had retraced their steps to look for us +and Cecil had started off towards them. + +In a few moments we reached the "Rose and Crown" and walked straight into +the little parlour at the back. Miss Milly was sitting there by herself +in semi-darkness, with a very disconsolate face. She brightened up, +however, at our entrance. + +"All by yourself, Milly?" exclaimed Cecil, letting go my arm and moving +to her side. "In tears, too, I believe! No news, I suppose?" + +She shook her head sadly. + +"None! I have almost lost hope," she added. + +Then she glanced questioningly at Mr. Fothergill, and Cecil introduced +him in an informal sort of way and explained our visit. + +"We've come to drink up all your wine and have a quiet game at cards +instead of staying all the evening at the 'Bull.' You can put us in the +sitting-room out of the way, can't you?" + +"Oh, yes!" she answered eagerly. "How good of you to come here! We've +been dreadfully quiet the last few days--scarcely anyone in at all, and I +have been so dull. Come this way, please. I'm so glad I had the fire +lit." + +She led us into the little sitting-room, where we had gone to look for +Mr. Hart's photograph on my first visit to the place. I pointed to the +spot where it had been. + +"You haven't found the portrait yet?" I remarked. + +She shook her head and looked distressed. + +"Please don't talk about it," she said. "It seems as though it must have +been spirited away and it makes me feel uncomfortable even to think about +it." + +We seated ourselves around the table and Mr. Fothergill, producing two +packs of cards from his pocket, began to deal. At the end of an hour +Cecil had won nearly fifty pounds, I was as I had started, and de +Cartienne and Mr. Fothergill were about equal losers. + +"I'm getting sick of this!" I declared. "Leave me out of this deal, will +you?" + +They assented and I crossed the room to where Milly was sitting. +Pretending to examine the fancy-work upon which she was engaged, I bent +close over her. + +"Miss Milly, I want to ask you a question, without letting the others +hear," I said softly. "Do you understand?" + +She nodded. Her large blue eyes, upturned to mine, were filled with +innocent wonder. + +I glanced towards the table. As I had expected, de Cartienne was watching +us, and I could see that he was straining every nerve to overhear our +conversation. + +"I think I'm about tired of it, too!" he exclaimed, suddenly throwing +down his cards and rising; but Cecil laid his hand on his shoulder and +forced him down. + +"Nonsense, man! You must play out your hand, at any rate. Then you may +leave off as soon as you like." + +de Cartienne resumed his seat with evident reluctance. I bent over Milly +again. + +"Has anyone else one of those photographs of your father?" I asked. "Is +there anyone from whom you could borrow one?" + +She shook her head and looked towards the empty frame. + +"That was the only one," she answered. + +"Where did he have them taken?" + +"At Lawrence's, just across the way." + +"And when?" + +"About nine months ago, I think it was. Why do you ask, Mr. Morton?" she +added anxiously. + +"I will tell you another time," I answered, in a low tone. + +I glanced towards the table as I said this and was just in time to see de +Cartienne bend over towards Cecil and whisper something in his ear. The +latter looked round at us at once. + +"You two seem to have found something interesting to talk about," he +remarked, glancing towards Milly as though requiring an explanation. + +"We haven't," she answered, with a sigh. + +"Mr. Morton was just asking me---- Oh, Mr. Morton, you're treading on my +foot!" + +I withdrew my foot and tried the effect of a warning glance, but it was +of no avail. + +"Mr. Morton was asking me," she continued, "whether I had not another of +those photographs." + +"And have you--has anyone?" interrupted de Cartienne, fixing his piercing +black eyes upon her. + +She shook her head. + +"No; but perhaps I can get some. They were taken at Lawrence's and I +suppose he has the negative." + +I glanced quickly at de Cartienne. He seemed profoundly uninterested and +was trying to build a house of the cards he had thrown down. Either he +must be a perfect actor, or my vague suspicions were very ill-founded at +that moment. I could not decide which. + +"Had enough cards, Cis?" he asked abruptly. + +"Not I. We'll leave you out for a bit, though. Fothergill and I are going +to play ecarte." + +de Cartienne shrugged his shoulders and threw himself on the sofa. + +"I pity you, then," he said drily. "You'll soon see the back of that +little pile of winnings. Fothergill's a bit too good for you." + +"Well, we shall see," Cecil answered, laughing confidently. "I'm not a +bad hand at ecarte myself." + +They began to play. Presently de Cartienne left the room and returned +with two glasses in his hand. + +"Have a lemon-squash, Morton?" he asked carelessly. "There's only a drop +of whisky in it." + +I accepted, for I was thirsty, and half emptied at a draught the tumbler +which he handed me. As I put down the glass I caught a grim smile on de +Cartienne's sallow face. But what it meant I could not tell, although it +made me strangely uneasy. + +I watched the play for a few minutes and, to my surprise, Cecil was still +winning. Then gradually a powerful, overmastering sleepiness crept over +me. I tried to stave it off by walking about, by talking to Milly, by +concentrating my thoughts upon the play. It was useless. I felt my eyes +closing and the sounds and voices in the room grew dimmer and less +distinct. For a while I remained in a semi-conscious state--half awake +and half asleep--by sheer force of will. But in the end I was conquered. +A mist hung before my eyes and all sound died away. I fell asleep. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXI. + A STARTLING DISCOVERY. + + +When I awoke it was with the dulled senses and aching head which usually +follow either a drugged sleep or an unnaturally heavy one. I sat up on +the sofa, rubbing my eyes and staring around in blank surprise. Daylight +was streaming in through the chinks of the drawn blinds, but the gas was +still burning with a dull, sickly light. + +The table betrayed all the signs of an all-night orgie. Several packs of +cards were lying strewn over the crumpled, ash-scattered cloth. There +were half-a-dozen tumblers--one nearly full, another broken into +pieces--and several empty soda-water bottles lay on the floor. + +But the most ghastly sight of all was Cecil's face. He sat on a chair +drawn up to the table, his chin fallen upon his folded arms, dark rims +under his eyes, and without a single vestige of colour in his ashen face. +There was no one else in the room. + +I sprang to my feet and hurried to his side. + +"Cecil! Cecil!" I cried. "What's the matter, old chap? Wake up, for +Heaven's sake, and tell me what has happened!" + +He pulled himself together and struggled to his feet. Then he looked +round the room and finally into my anxious face, with an odd little +laugh, strained and unnatural. + +"I've about done it this time," he said. "By George! Let's clear out of +this before Milly comes down. I shouldn't like her to know that we've +been here all night. Poor little girl! She'd never forgive herself for +letting us play here at all." + +"Where are the others?" I asked. + +"Fothergill has gone back to his hotel and Leonard went with him. I said +I'd wake you and we'd follow directly, but I think I must have been +dozing." + +"We must go, and at once," I said, "or we shall never be back before the +doctor gets down. Come, Cecil! Don't tell me anything yet." + +I linked my arm in his and drew him out of the room. We crept softly down +the passage and out at the back door. I was afraid to ask him questions +and he seemed in no hurry to disclose what had happened, so we hurried +along in silence, Cecil baring his head to the strong sea-breeze which +blew in our teeth when we had left the town behind us and had all the +effect of a strong, invigorating tonic. + +At every step I felt my head grow clearer, and, glancing at Cecil, I saw +the colour creeping back into his cheeks with every breath he took of the +salt air which came sweeping across the sandy, barren country between us +and the sea. + +When at last we reached our destination and had cautiously made our way +up to the back entrance, he hesitated. Opposite to us was the +pine-plantation, which led down to the sea, and between the thickly +growing black trunks a curious light shone and glistened. I had lived all +my life in the country and knew well what it was, but Cecil turned round +and watched it with amazement. + +"Look, Phil!" he whispered. "What's that light? It seems as though the +plantation were on fire!" + +"It's the sunrise," I answered. "Shall we go and see it?" + +He nodded, and we stole across the lawn, through the wicket-gate and +along the narrow, winding path, thickly strewn with dried leaves and +fir-cones, down towards the shore. We were just in time to see the final +effect. A rim of the sun had already crept into sight, casting brilliant, +scintillating reflections upon the dancing waves, and the eastern sky was +tinged from the arc of the heavens to the horizon with streaks of +brilliantly-hued, fantastically-shaped cloudlets, strewn upon a +background of the lightest transparent blue. + +Far off the sails of a few fishing-smacks glittered like gossamer wings +upon a fairy ocean; and farther away still, where the banks of orange and +azure clouds seemed to sink into a blazing sea of polished glass, the +white funnel of a passing steamer shone like a pillar of fire. + +It was a sight so new to Cecil that he stood spellbound, with a look of +wondering awe upon his pale face. And it was not until we had gazed to +the full and were retracing our steps in silence through the plantation +that I cared to speak of the events of the night. + +"Philip," he said solemnly, when I mentioned the subject, "there's no one +to blame for this night's work but myself. To do Leonard and that fellow +Fothergill justice, they both continually urged me to leave off playing, +but I wouldn't. It seemed as though the luck must change at every deal +and so I went on, and on, and on. What a fool I was!" + +"And the result?" I asked anxiously. + +"I owe Fothergill between six and seven hundred pounds and I haven't as +many shillings." + +I stopped short and looked at him in horror. + +"Seven hundred pounds! Why, Cis, how on earth came you to play up to that +figure and with a man you know so little of?" + +"Oh, the man's all right--at least, he's no sharper, if you mean that!" +Cecil answered doggedly. "It was my own fault altogether. He's a better +player than I am, and, of course, won." + +"But he ought not to have gone on," I protested. "I don't know much about +such matters, but I feel sure that a gentleman wouldn't sit down and win +seven hundred pounds from a boy of your age. You're not eighteen yet, you +know, Cis." + +"I don't quite see what age has got to do with it," he answered gloomily. +"As regards Fothergill, I don't feel particularly sweet on him just now, +as you may imagine; but it wasn't his fault at all. I made him go on, +and, you know, the winner is a great deal in the hands of the loser in a +case of that sort. He kept on wanting to go and he went at last. I should +have gone on playing till now, I think, if he hadn't." + +"When does he expect you to settle up?" I asked. + +"I've got to see him this afternoon. I say, you'll come down with me, old +chap, won't you?" he pleaded. "I shall have to ask for a little time, of +course." + +"Yes, I'll go with you," I promised. "How shall you try to raise the +money?" + +"I haven't the faintest idea," he acknowledged gloomily. "I've overdrawn +my allowance already several hundreds. The mater is as poor as a church +mouse and I simply daren't ask my Uncle Ravenor, though he's as rich as +Croesus. He might disinherit me." + +We reached the house and stole softly up the back stairs to our rooms. +Cecil threw himself, dressed as he was, upon the bed. But I was in no +humour for sleep, and after a cold bath I dressed and got downstairs in +time for breakfast. To my surprise, de Cartienne was in the morning-room, +carefully dressed as usual and with no sign in his appearance or manner +of having been out all night. He was chatting lightly with Dr. Randall +about some trivial matter connected with the meeting which the latter had +attended the previous evening. + +"Cecil is late again," remarked the doctor, with a frown, as we began +breakfast. "James, go to Lord Silchester's room and ask him how long he +will be." + +James retired and reappeared in a few minutes with a grave face. + +"Lord Silchester desires me to beg you to excuse him this morning," was +the message which he brought back. "He has a very bad headache and has +had no sleep." + +Dr. Randall, who was one of the kindest-hearted men breathing, looked +compassionate. + +"Dear me!" he said. "I'm very sorry to hear that! Certainly we will +excuse him. Will he have anything sent up?" + +"A cup of tea, sir, only. I have ordered it in the kitchen." + +"Poor fellow! It's strange how he suffers from these attacks! I'm afraid +he can't be very strong," remarked the doctor absently, as he buttered +himself a piece of toast. + +de Cartienne and I exchanged glances, but we said nothing. + +Directly after breakfast the doctor took us into the study and we began +the morning's labours. It happened that, in working out a series of +algebraic questions, de Cartienne and I used a great deal of paper, and +when the doctor looked for a piece to explain the working of a rather +stiff quadratic, the rack was empty. + +"Have either of you a piece of wastepaper in your pockets?" he asked. +"The back of an envelope, or anything will do. I see it is lunch-time, so +it is scarcely worth while sending for any." + +I felt in all my pockets, but they were empty. de Cartienne drew an +envelope from his pocket and handed it to the doctor. The moment he had +parted with it, however, I saw him give a sudden start and he seemed as +though about to make an effort to regain possession of it. But he was too +late, for the doctor was already fast covering it with figures. + +de Cartienne quitted his seat and stood looking over his shoulder, +probably hoping that I should do the same. But I remained where I was, +taking care to manifest my interest in the problem by asking frequent +questions. The moment the doctor had finished his rapid figuring and +solved the equation, I stretched out my hand for it eagerly. + +"May I see it, sir?" I begged. "I fancy you've made a mistake in the +values." + +He handed it across the table at once, with a quiet smile. + +"I think not, Morton," he said. "Examine it for yourself." + +de Cartienne moved round to my side, with nervously twitching lips and an +ugly light in his eyes. + +"One moment, Morton," he said. "I won't keep it longer." + +I laid a hand upon it, and pushed him back with the other. + +"My turn first, please. Isn't that so, Dr. Randall?" + +He nodded genially, not noticing the suppressed excitement in de +Cartienne's manner. + +"Certainly. I'm glad to find you both so interested in it. Let me know +about this mistake at lunch-time, Morton," he added, smiling. "I'm going +for a stroll round the garden now, and I should advise you to do the +same. We've had a close morning's work." + +He rose and left the room. de Cartienne watched the door close and then +turned to me. + +"Morton," he said quickly, "I want that envelope. There are some +memoranda on the reverse side which concern my private affairs. I need +not say more, I suppose." + +"Keep your hands to yourself, de Cartienne!" I answered, shaking him off. +"I shall not give you the envelope till I have examined it." + +"You cad!" he hissed out, his voice shaking with fury. "How dare you +attempt to pry into my private affairs? Give me the envelope, or +I'll----" + +"You'll what?" I answered, standing up, putting the envelope in my pocket +and facing him. "Look here, de Cartienne, I'm not going to attempt to +justify my conduct to you. On the face of it, it may seem to be taking a +mean advantage, but I don't care a fig about that. I've made up my mind +what to do, and all the blustering in the world won't make me alter it. I +am going to look at the reverse side of this envelope. You----" + +I ceased and with good reason, for, with a sudden, panther-like spring, +he had thrown himself upon me, and his slender white fingers were +grasping at my throat. It was a brief struggle, but a desperate one, for +he clung to me with a strength which seemed altogether out of proportion +to his slim body and long, thin arms. + +I was in no mood for trifling, however, and, suddenly putting forth all +my strength, I seized him by the middle, and sent him backwards, with a +crash of fallen furniture, into a corner of the room. Before he could +recover himself, I drew out the envelope from my pocket and looked at it. + +There was nothing on the reverse side but the address and the postmark. +They were quite sufficient for me, however. The postmark was Mellborough +and the handwriting was the peculiar, cramped handwriting of Mr. Marx. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXII. + FORESTALLED. + + +For a full minute neither of us moved. Then de Cartienne rose slowly to +his feet and walked to the door. + +"Here, take this!" I said, holding out the envelope towards him. "The +private memoranda upon it may be useful to you." + +He snatched it from my fingers and tore it into atoms. Then he walked +quietly away, with an evil look upon his face. + +At luncheon Cecil appeared, white as a ghost, and looking anxious and +disturbed, as well he might. Dr. Randall was quite uneasy at his +appearance, and acquiesced at once when I asked for permission to take +him for a drive during the afternoon. de Cartienne sat silent throughout +the meal, except for a few sympathising sentences to Cecil, and left the +room at the first opportunity. + +At three o'clock my dog cart was brought round and Cecil and I drove +away. We scarcely spoke until we were in the streets of Drayton, and +then, rousing myself, I bade him pluck his spirits up, and assured him +vaguely that I would see him through it somehow. He thanked me, but +seemed very despondent. + +We went to the "Bull," and inquired for Mr. Fothergill. He was in the +coffee-room, we were told, and there we found him lunching. + +"So good of you fellows to come and look me up!" he exclaimed, welcoming +us cordially. "Waiter, a bottle of Pommery. Don't shake your head now, +Lord Silchester. It'll do you good. I can see you're a bit seedy this +morning." + +Cecil smiled feebly. + +"I'm not quite up to the mark," he admitted, "Just a bit of a +headache--that's all. I say, Mr. Fothergill," he went on, plunging at +once _in medias res_, "I'm awfully sorry, but I shan't be able to settle +up with you to-day." + +"Settle up with me!" repeated Mr. Fothergill, putting down his glass +untasted, and looking surprised. "I don't understand you. Settle what +up?" + +"Why, the money I lost last night," Cecil explained. + +Mr. Fothergill leaned back in his chair and looked into Cecil's white, +anxious face with an astonishment which, if simulated, was certainly +admirably done. Then he broke into a little laugh. + +"My dear Lord Silchester," he said energetically, "you can't for one +moment suppose that I expected anything of the sort. Why, I scarcely took +our play seriously at all, and I should very much prefer that we said no +more about it. Pray don't be offended," he added, hastily, for the +sensitive colour had flushed into Cecil's cheeks. "I'll tell you how +we'll arrange it. You shall give me your I O U's and pay them just as it +is convenient. Any time within the next five or six years will do. But as +to taking a sum like that from a b--a man who is not of age--why, it's +absurd! I feel rather ashamed of myself for having been so fortunate." + +A look of intense relief had stolen into Cecil's face, but the reaction +was a little too sudden. He left us abruptly and stood looking out of the +window for a minute or two. Then he returned, smiling, and held out his +hand to Mr. Fothergill. + +"Mr. Fothergill, you're a brick!" he declared emphatically. + +"Not another word, please!" Mr. Fothergill answered, smiling. "Now, look +here, Lord Silchester," he added. "Drink this glass of wine." + +Cecil obeyed him promptly. + +"And now you'll be so good as to have some luncheon with me," Mr. +Fothergill continued. "I don't care what you say. I don't believe you've +eaten anything to-day. Waiter, bring me those other cutlets I ordered and +the game-pie, and--yes, I think we might venture on another bottle of +wine." + +"Mr. Morton, you must join us. Clever animal of yours--that one outside," +he rattled on lightly; "but I'd have her taken out for an hour, if I were +you. It's too cold for her to be standing about. Shall I ring the +ostler's bell and tell him? And then, if you will, you might drive me +down to the station, when you're ready to go. My train leaves a little +before five." + +Whatever my former opinion of Mr. Fothergill had been, I felt bound to +change it now. He was showing tact, good-nature, and a decidedly +gentlemanly spirit. I had, in truth, eaten very little lunch at Borden +Tower and Cecil none at all; and we proceeded to make good the omission. + +When, an hour or two later, we left Mr. Fothergill at the station, we +were both of one mind concerning him, and we had both promised to accept +his cordial invitation to run up to town and see him before long. + +On our way home Cecil stopped at the "Rose and Crown," and went in to +make his peace with Milly. I promised to call for him and went on to the +photographer's up the street. Mr. Lawrence appeared at once from a +back-room, which, I presume, was the studio, wiping his hands upon a not +particularly clean-looking towel. + +I paid him in advance for a dozen photographs, promising to come in and +have them taken next time I was in the town. Then I explained what was +really the purport of my visit: Had he preserved the negative of the +photograph which he had taken of Mr. Hart? + +Certainly he had, he assured me. I told him about the date and his head +and shoulders disappeared into a cupboard. In a few minutes he withdrew +them and called out sharply for his assistant. + +"Fenton," he exclaimed angrily, "you've been at this cupboard!" + +Fenton, who was a tall, ungainly lad of most unprepossessing appearance, +shook his head. + +"I haven't been near it, sir!" he declared. + +Mr. Lawrence looked incredulous. + +"There is a negative missing!" he said sharply; "No one else could have +meddled with it!" + +"I don't know anything about it," the boy answered doggedly. "Perhaps +it's upstairs." + +Mr. Lawrence abandoned his search. + +"If you'll excuse me a moment, sir," he said, "I'll have a look among the +old ones." + +I nodded and he closed the door and disappeared. Fenton would have gone, +too, but I stopped him. + +"Look here!" I said quickly; "see this?" + +I held out a five-pound note. + +He opened his eyes wide and looked at it longingly. + +"Well, it's yours if you'll tell me what you've done with the negative of +Mr. Hart's photograph. Quick!" + +He hesitated. + +"Should you split to the governor?" he asked. + +"No." + +"Well, then, I sold it for a sovereign to a young gentleman what inquired +for it a few minutes ago. A thin, dark chap he is. I don't know his name, +but I've seen him driving with you." + +I threw him the note and left the place. I had now no doubt about the +matter at all. de Cartienne had stolen the photograph of Mr. Hart from +the "Rose and Crown," and had bought the negative. Why? + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIII. + A GLEAM OF LIGHT. + + +After leaving the photographer's shop, I walked slowly across the little +market-place and down the narrow street towards the "Rose and Crown." My +recent discovery had given me a good deal to think about, or rather, had +afforded me matter for a variety of wild conjectures, but I could follow +none of them to a very satisfactory conclusion. I was like a man groping +in the dark. I had stumbled upon several very extraordinary and +inexplicable facts; but what connection, if any, they had with one +another, or how to link them together, I could not tell. + +I have always been somewhat absent-minded and, with my brain in such a +whirl, it was not a very remarkable thing that I took a wrong turning. +The moment I had discovered it I stopped short and looked round. I was in +a little street that led past the back entrance of the "Rose and Crown." +It was scarcely a public thoroughfare. + +I had already turned on my heel to retrace my steps, when I saw two +figures standing talking at the back door of the inn. One I knew at a +glance to be Milly Hart. Her companion was standing with his back to me, +a muffler round his neck and his cap slouched over his eyes. In the gloom +of the fast-falling twilight I did not at first recognise him; but when +he turned round with a start at the sound of my approaching footsteps and +withdrew his arm with a sudden movement from around his companion's +waist, something in the motion and figure seemed familiar to me. + +My approach seemed to discompose them not a little. Milly stepped back at +once into the doorway and disappeared; her companion, without waiting to +make any adieu, turned round and walked swiftly away. As he crossed the +street to make use of the only exit from it--a narrow passage leading +through a court--I had a better view of him. He kept his back to me as +much as possible and seemed to be using every endeavour to escape +recognition. But although I could not be quite certain, I was pretty sure +that it was Leonard de Cartienne--de Cartienne, who never missed an +opportunity of sneering at Milly's innocent blue eyes and baby face. + +I turned back, and hurried round to the front entrance of the "Rose and +Crown." In the parlour I found Cecil and Milly sitting very close +together upon a sofa. + +"Hallo, old chap, you haven't been long!" remarked Cecil, rising +reluctantly. + +"I should have been here before," I answered, looking steadily at Milly, +"but I took a wrong turning and got round the back of this place somehow. +Saw you, didn't I, Miss Milly?" I remarked. + +She raised her eyebrows and looked at me wonderingly out of her placid +blue eyes. + +"Me? Oh, no! I have only just come downstairs, have I not, Cecil? It must +have been one of the maids." + +Milly and I exchanged a steady gaze, her eyes meeting mine without +drooping and her manner betraying only a mild surprise. It was a +revelation to me, a lesson which I did not easily forget. + +"Oh, I beg your pardon, I'm sure," I said, turning away. "It was rather +dark and no doubt I was mistaken. Strange, too; I thought it was de +Cartienne with whom you were talking." + +Cecil laughed carelessly. + +"My dear fellow, you must have been dreaming," he said; "de Cartienne has +not been here at all." + +"Ready, Cecil?" I asked, abandoning the subject. "I think we've kept Bess +waiting about long enough." + +"I'll come," he replied, drawing on his gloves. "I've scarcely had a +moment with you, Milly, though, have I? No news?" + +She shook her head sadly and the big tears stood in her eyes. There was +no mistaking her earnestness now. + +"None about my father. My uncle and aunt are coming to stay here. I +expect them tonight." + +"Horrid nuisance that is!" remarked Cecil, _sotto voce_. "Never mind, you +won't be so lonely, little woman, will you? And you won't have so much to +look after. I must take you for a drive as soon as we get a fine, clear +day; that'll bring some colour into your cheeks. Good-bye!" + +She came to the door and watched us drive off. Cecil took the reins and I +climbed to his side, and, folding my arms, sat for a while in gloomy +silence. Then suddenly a gleam of light, or what I hoped might prove so, +broke in upon me and I laid my hand upon Cecil's arm. + +"Pull up, old chap--quick!" I exclaimed. + +He did so, and looked at me wonderingly. + +"Turn round and drive back again as fast as you can," I said, my voice +trembling a little with excitement; "I want to ask Milly Hart a +question." + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIV. + DR. SCHOFIELD'S OPINION. + + +In ten minutes we were in the streets of Little Drayton again, and Cecil +had brought the dog cart to a standstill outside the "Rose and Crown." He +would have gone in with me, but I begged him not to. I jumped down and +walked straight into the little parlour. Milly was sitting there alone, +gazing absently into the fire. She looked up in surprise at my sudden +entrance, and half rose. + +"Milly, I want to ask you a question," I said, going up to her side. +"It's about your father's disappearance." + +"Yes!" she exclaimed eagerly. "What is it? Oh, do tell me quickly!" + +"It's only an idea. Did Mr. Hart ever suffer from any brain disorder at +any time? That's all I want to know. Has his mind always been quite +strong?" + +She did not answer for a moment and my heart beat fast. Looking at her +closely, I could see that the colour had flushed into her cheeks and +there was a troubled light in her eyes. + +"He has had one or two severe illnesses," she admitted slowly; "brain +fever once; and I'm afraid he used to drink too much now and then. The +doctor told him that he must be very careful not to excite himself." + +"Who was the doctor and where does he live?" I asked quickly. + +"Dr. Schofield. He lives on the Lincoln Road, about a mile away. Why have +you asked me this?" she added anxiously. + +I evaded a direct reply. + +"Never mind now," I said. "If anything comes of it, I will let you know." + +She tried to detain me with further questions, but I hurried away and she +did not follow me out of the door. + +"Cis," I said, as I scrambled up to his side, "I want you to go home by +the Lincoln Road and call at Dr. Schofield's. It isn't far out of the +way." + +He nodded. + +"All right. You haven't found out anything about old Hart, have you? What +was the question you went back to ask Milly?" + +"Only about her father's health. No; I haven't found out anything. It's +only an idea of mine I want to clear up." + +Cecil looked as though he thought I might have told him what the idea +was, but he said nothing. In a few minutes he pulled up outside a neat, +red-brick house, which, as a shining brass plate indicated, was Dr. +Schofield's abode. + +The doctor was in and disengaged. He came at once into the waiting-room, +where I had been shown--a respectable family practitioner, with +intelligent face and courteous manner. + +I explained my position as an acquaintance of Miss Hart's, interested in +the mysterious disappearance of her father. It had occurred to me to make +inquiries as to the state of his health, or, rather, his constitution, I +added. Perhaps his prolonged absence might be accounted for by sudden and +dangerous illness. Could Dr. Schofield give me any information? + +His manner was encouraging. He bade me take a seat and went into the +matter gravely. + +"To tell you the truth," he said, "I am rather surprised that I have not +been appealed to before. In an ordinary case I should feel bound to +maintain a strict secrecy with regard to the ailments of my patients, but +this is different. As you have asked me this question, I feel bound to +tell you what I would not otherwise divulge. Mr. Hart was my patient on +two several occasions during the last two years for delirium tremens, and +once within my recollection he had a distinct touch of brain fever." + +"His mind would not be very strong, then?" I remarked. + +Dr. Schofield hesitated. + +"He had a wonderful constitution," he said slowly--"a constitution of +iron. In ordinary circumstances I cannot bring myself to think that he +could suddenly and completely have lost his reason. But supposing he had +received some severe shock, such as a railway accident, or something of +that sort, why, then it would be possible, even probable, he might become +a raving lunatic in a moment." + +"And would his madness be incurable?" + +"If properly treated, with a knowledge of his past ailment--no," answered +Dr. Schofield; "but if he were treated just like an ordinary madman in a +pauper lunatic asylum, he would probably never recover. He would become +worse and worse and finally be incurable. I see two objections to +accepting any theory of this sort as accounting for his disappearance," +the doctor continued, after a short pause. "In the first place the shock +would have to be violent and unexpected, and this seems improbable; in +the next place, he would surely have had some letter or something about +him which would have led to his identification!" + +"If the shock were the result of foul play, these would be destroyed," I +suggested. + +"Undoubtedly; but whence the foul play? Hart is known to have had only a +few pounds with him when he left." + +"Perhaps he had something in his keeping more valuable than money," I +remarked. + +"What?" + +"A secret." + +"Have you any grounds for such a belief?" the doctor asked curiously. + +I hesitated. In my own mind I believed that I had; but for the present, +at any rate, this was best kept to myself. I answered quite truthfully, +however. + +"I have made a few inquiries here and there," I said, "and I have heard +it hinted that he had some secret means of replenishing his purse. He has +been known more than once to leave here with only a few sovereigns in his +pocket and to come back with his sovereigns turned into banknotes." + +"I remember hearing some such tale," the doctor remarked. "I'm afraid it +is all rather vague, though." + +"I'm very much obliged to you, Dr. Schofield," I assured him, rising to +take my leave. + +He followed me to the door and then returned to his interrupted dinner. I +mounted into the dog cart and we were soon bowling through the darkness +towards Borden Tower. + +"Get anything out of the old chap?" Cecil asked. + +"Not much. I'm just a little wiser than I was before, that's all. Beastly +sorry to keep you waiting so long!" + +"Oh, that's all right! But I say, Phil," he added, "what is this idea of +yours? You can tell me, can't you?" + +"If it comes to anything, I will," I assured him. "But at present it is +altogether too vague and you would only laugh at it. Don't ask me +anything more about it yet, there's a good fellow." + +"You're very close, all of a sudden," he grumbled. "Why can't you tell +me?" + +"Because I'm afraid of your letting it out to someone whom I don't want +to know anything about it," I answered. + +He laughed. + +"Ah, well, perhaps you're right!" he said. "I couldn't keep anything back +from Milly." + +I echoed his laugh, but held my peace. It was not Milly alone from whom I +wished my present idea to be kept a secret. In fact, I had not thought of +Milly at all. I was only anxious that de Cartienne should remain +altogether in the dark as to my clue; and for a remarkably good reason. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXV. + AN INVITATION. + + +We drove straight into the courtyard, having no groom with us and entered +the house from the back. As we passed the little room on the ground floor +given up for our sole use as a repository for cricket-nets, +fishing-tackle, guns, spare harness, and such like appliances, I opened +the door, intending to hang my whip up. To my surprise de Cartienne was +there in an old coat, with his sleeves turned up, cleaning a gun. He +looked up and greeted us as we entered. + +"What a time you men have been! What have you been up to in Little +Drayton?" + +"Oh, we had lunch with your friend Fothergill and shacked about," Cecil +answered. "Tell you what, Len, he's a very decent fellow." + +de Cartienne was examining the lock of his gun with great attention, and +in the dusk I could not catch his expression. + +"Oh, Fothergill's all right!" he answered. "You didn't find him very +hungry for his winnings, did you?" + +"I should think not," Cecil replied enthusiastically. "Why, I believe he +was actually annoyed with himself for having won at all. I've given him +my I O U's." + +"He'll most likely tear them up," de Cartienne remarked. "He's beastly +rich and he can't want the money." + +"Where did you drop across him, Len?" asked Cecil, seating himself upon a +chest and lighting a cigarette. + +"He's a friend of my governor's. I've known him ever since I was a kid," +de Cartienne answered slowly. "There, I think that'll do!" critically +looking at the gleaming muzzle which he held in his hand. + +"Why this sudden fit of industry?" inquired Cecil, yawning. "Going to do +any shooting?" + +de Cartienne nodded and began deliberately pulling the gun to pieces. + +"Yes; I've had a long day indoors to-day and I mean to make up for it by +potting some wild duck to-morrow. Hilliers told me that he'd heard of +some very fair sport round by Rushey Ponds last week. You'd better come +with me." + +"Thanks, I'll see," Cecil answered. "I'm not very keen on wild duck +potting." + +"Haven't you been out all day, then, de Cartienne?" I asked--"not even to +Drayton?" + +"Not outside the house," he answered. "Do I look like it?" + +He pointed to his slippered feet, his old clothes, and held up his hands, +black with oil and grease, I took in the details of his appearance, +feeling a little bewildered. It seemed barely possible that he could have +been in Little Drayton an hour ago. + +The dressing-bell rang out and we hurried off to our rooms, for Dr. +Randall, easy-going enough in some things, was strictness itself with +regard to our punctuality at dinner-time. But no sooner had I seen de +Cartienne safely in his room than I softly made my way downstairs again +and crossed the yard to the stables. + +It was as I had expected. The stall in which de Cartienne kept his mare +was carefully closed, but through the chinks I could see that a lamp was +burning inside. + +I tried the door softly, but it was locked. Then I knocked. There was no +answer. Turning away, I entered the next stall and, mounting a +step-ladder, looked over the partition. + +I saw very much what I had expected to see--de Cartienne's thoroughbred +mare splashed all over with mud and still trembling with nervous fatigue, +and by her side Dick, the stable-boy, holding a wet sponge in his hand +and looking up at me with a scared, disconsolate expression. + +"Oh, it be you, be it, Muster Morton?" he exclaimed rather sullenly. + +I looked down at Diana. + +"How came she in that exhausted condition?" I asked. "And why have you +locked the door?" + +Dick hesitated, and I tossed him a half-crown. + +"The truth now, Dick," I said. "And I won't let Mr. de Cartienne know +that I've seen her." + +He brightened up at once and pocketed the half-crown. + +"That's kind o' yer, sir!" he exclaimed, evidently much relieved. "All I +know, sir, is that Muster de Cartienne he come in riding like mad along +the Drayton Road 'bout 'arf an hour ago, and he says to me, 'Dick, take +Diana, lock her up in the stable and don't let no one know as she's been +out. Just attend to her yourself and rub her down carefully, for I've +been obliged to ride fast.' And with that he guv me summut and hoff he +went into the 'ouse." + +"Thank you, Dick," I said, getting down from the ladder, "that's all I +wanted to know." And I crossed the yard to the house again and hurried +upstairs to change my things. + +We had two deliveries of letters at Borden Tower, and just as we were +leaving the dinner-table that evening the late post arrived. There was a +letter for me, a somewhat unusual occurrence, and a single glance at the +arms and the bold, characteristic handwriting set me longing to open it, +for it was from Mr. Ravenor. As soon as the cloth was cleared I did so. + + "My dear Philip," it commenced, "I am thinking of travelling for + several years, perhaps for longer, and should like to see you before I + go. Come and stay here for a few days. I am writing Dr. Randall and + also Cecil, who will accompany you. You will leave Borden Tower + to-morrow and I will send to Mellborough to meet the 5.18. Bring some + clothes, as there will be some people stopping here.--Yours, + + "Bernard Ravenor." + +I looked up from the letter with a great sense of relief and met Cecil's +delighted gaze. + +"Hurrah, old chap!" he exclaimed, only half under his breath. "Won't we +have a rare old time?" + +"Cave!" I whispered, for the doctor was looking our way. + +"More vacation," he remarked, in a grumbling tone, which was made up for, +however, by a good-natured smile. "Upon my word, I don't know how Mr. +Ravenor imagines you're ever going to learn anything! However, I suppose +you must go." + +de Cartienne looked up inquiringly. + +"We're going to stay at Ravenor Castle for a week," Cecil explained. +"We're off to-morrow." + +I leaned forward and watched de Cartienne's face intently. There was an +expression in it which I could not analyse. It might have been pleasure, +or apprehension, or indifference. Though I watched him narrowly, I could +not make up my mind whether he was more dismayed or gratified at the +prospect of our visit. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVI. + A METAMORPHOSIS. + + +It seemed almost as though some magical metamorphosis had taken place +within the walls of Ravenor Castle. Directly we came in sight of it we +had the first intimation of its altered aspect. Instead of the one or two +solitary lights shining above the dark woods, it seemed a very blaze of +illumination, and when we drew up at the great front door the change was +still mere apparent. Liveried servants with powdered hair were moving +about the hall. From open doors there came the sound of laughing voices, +and even Mr. Ravenor's manner, as he came out to meet us, seemed altered. + +"Come in and have some tea here," he said, leading the way to one of the +smaller rooms. "Your mother is here, Cecil." + +We followed him into Lady Silchester's favourite apartment. Several +ladies and one or two men were lounging on divans and in easy chairs +around a brightly-blazing fire. Lady Silchester, who was presiding at a +green-and-gold Sevres tea-service, welcomed us both with a languid smile. + +"My dear Cis, how you have grown!" she said, leaning back in her chair +and leisurely sipping her tea. "I declare I had no idea that I had a son +your height, sir! Had you, Lord Penraven?" + +Lord Penraven, who was lounging by her side with his elbow upon the +mantelpiece, stroked a long, fair moustache vigorously and answered with +emphasis: + +"'Pon my word, I hadn't the slightest idea. Seems almost impossible!" + +"Let me give you boys some tea!" Lady Silchester said, in her sweetest +tone. + +"None for me, thanks, mother," replied Cecil. "Why, Ag--Miss Hamilton, is +that really you over in the corner?" he exclaimed, rising and crossing +the room. "How awfully jolly!" + +Lady Silchester shrugged her shoulders and turned to me. + +"Mr. Morton?" + +I took the cup which she had filled and the conversation which our +entrance had interrupted flowed on again. Presently Mr. Ravenor, who had +been standing on the hearthrug talking to a stately, grey-haired lady who +occupied the seat of honour--a black oak arm-chair drawn up to the +fire,--moved over to my side and dropped into a vacant seat between Lady +Silchester and myself. + +"Well, Philip," he said softly, "you seem lost in thought. Are you +wondering whether a magician's wand has touched Ravenor Castle?" + +"It all seems very different," I answered. + +"Of course. Nothing like change, you know. It is only by comparison that +we can appreciate. Stagnation sharpens one's appetite for gaiety, and one +must go through a course of overwork before one can taste the full +sweetness of an idle country life." + +Then Mr. Ravenor was silent for a minute, leaning back in his chair and +looking steadily into the fire, and by the dancing, fitful light of the +flames I could see that the old weariness and deep indefinable sadness +had stolen into his pale face and dark eyes. It was only a passing +change. The sound of the laughing voices around seemed suddenly to +galvanise him into consciousness of the _role_ which he was playing and +the expression faded away. Someone asked him a question and he answered +it with a light jest. Once more he was the courteous, smiling host, whose +sole thought appeared to be the entertainment of his guests. But I knew +that there was a background. + +The dressing-bell rang and the gossiping assembly broke up. Mr. Ravenor, +standing with the opened door in his hand, exchanged little happy +speeches with most of the ladies as they swept out. When they were all +gone he turned to Cecil and me and looked at us critically, with a faint +smile upon his lips. + +"Well, are you ready for your matric., Cecil?" he asked. + +Cecil made a wry face. + +"Shall be soon, uncle!" he declared hopefully, "I'm getting on now first +rate. Morton here makes me work like a Trojan." + +"That's right! And you, Philip? I hope my lazy nephew doesn't keep you +back." + +"Oh, Morton's all right for his matric. whenever he likes to go in for +it!" broke in Cecil. + +Mr. Ravenor nodded. + +"Good! You'd better go and dress now, both of you; Richards is waiting to +show you your rooms." + +We passed up the great oak staircase, and on the first corridor we came +face to face with a slim little figure in a white frock, walking demurely +by the side of her maid, with her ruddy, golden hair tumbled about her +oval face and an expectant light in her dancing blue eyes. + +Directly she saw us she flew into Cecil's arms. + +"Oh, Cis, Cis, Cis, how delightful! How glad I am that you have come! +They only just told me! And how do you do, Mr. Morton?" + +She held out a very diminutive palm and looked up at me with a beaming +smile. + +"I'm quite well, thank you, Lady Beatrice," I answered, looking down with +keen pleasure into her sweet, childish face, and repressing a strong +desire to take her up in my arms, as Cecil had done, and give her a kiss. + +"You remember me, then?" + +"Oh, yes!" she answered; "I remember you quite well! Your name is Philip, +isn't it? You told me that I might call you by it." + +"Well, we must go now, dear," Cecil said, stroking her hair. "We've got +to dress for dinner, you know." + +"Oh!" The exclamation was drawn out and the little face fell. Suddenly it +brightened. + +"Cecil, what do you think? I've got a pony, a real pony of my own. Will +you come for a ride with me to-morrow? Please, please, do!" + +"All right!" he promised carelessly. + +She clapped her hands and looked up at me. + +"Will you come too, Philip?" she asked. + +"I should like to very much indeed," I answered unhesitatingly. + +"Oh, that's delightful!" she exclaimed gleefully. "We will have such a +nice ride! You shall see Queenie canter; she does go so fast! Good-bye +now!" + +She tripped away by the side of her maid, turning round more than once to +wave her hand to us. Then we hurried along to our rooms, which were at +the end of the wide, marble-pillared corridor and opened one into the +other. Our portmanteaux had been placed in readiness, so dressing was not +a tedious business. I had finished first and lounged in an easy chair, +watching Cecil struggle with a refractory white tie. + +"How pretty your sister is, Cis!" I remarked. + +"Think so? She's rather an odd little thing," declared her brother, +absently surveying himself at last with satisfaction in the long +pier-glass. "Didn't know you'd ever seen her before. I say"--with sudden +emphasis--"isn't Aggie Hamilton a jolly good-looking girl?" + +"I've scarcely seen her yet," I reminded him. "Rather a chatterbox, isn't +she?" + +"Chatterbox? Not she!" Cecil protested indignantly. "Why----" + +The rumble of a gong reached us from below. Cecil stopped short in his +speech and hurried me out of the room. + +"Come along, sharp!" he exclaimed. "That means dinner in ten minutes, and +I promised to get down into the drawing-room first and introduce you to +Aggie. Come on!" + +We descended into the hall and a tall footman threw open the door of the +long suite of drawing and ante-rooms in which the guests at the Castle +were rapidly assembling. To me, who had seen nothing of the sort before, +it was a brilliant sight. Four rooms, all of stately dimensions and all +draped with amber satin of the same shade, were thrown into one by the +upraising of heavy, clinging curtains, and each one seemed filled with +groups of charmingly-dressed women and little knots of men. A low, +incessant buzz of conversation floated about in the air, which was laden +with the scent of exotics and dainty perfumes. The light was brilliant, +but soft, for the marble figures around the walls held out silver lamps +covered with gauzy rose-coloured shades. + +We passed through two of the rooms before we found the young lady of whom +Cecil was in search. Then we came upon her suddenly, sitting quite alone +and idly turning over the pages of a book of engravings. Cecil jogged me +excitedly with his elbow in a manner which elsewhere would have brought +down anathemas and possibly retribution upon his head. As it was, +however, I had to bear the pain like a Spartan. + +"I say, isn't she stunning?" he whispered. + +I answered in the affirmative, carefully removing myself from the range +of his elbow. Then we approached her, and she closed the book of +engravings with a comical air of relief and made room for us beside her. + +She was even prettier than I had expected, with dark hair and eyes, +dazzling complexion, a perfect figure of the _petite_ order, and +faultless teeth, which she was by no means averse from showing. She wore +a black lace gown, with a good deal of scarlet about it and a deep red +rose in her bosom. Altogether, I was scarcely surprised at Cecil's +captivation. + +If not actually a chatterbox, she was certainly possessed of the art of +talking nonsense very volubly, and making others talk it. Before dinner +was announced by a dignified-looking functionary we had got through quite +an amazing amount of conversation. It fell to Cecil's lot to take in his +inamorata, whilst I was far away behind with the middle-aged wife of a +country clergyman. She was very pleasant, though, and I was quite content +to do but little talking throughout the long banquet, for it was all new +to me and interesting. + +The vast dining-hall--it was really the picture-gallery--the many +servants in rich liveries, the emblazoned plate, the glittering glasses, +and the brilliant snatches of conversation which floated around me, all +were a revelation. Very soon the effect of it passed away and I was able +to choose my wines and select my dishes, and was free to take part if I +chose in the talk. But for that first evening I was content to remain +silent and, as far as possible, unnoticed. + +Dinner, which had seemed to me to be growing interminable, came to an end +at last. Lady Silchester, at the head of a long file of stately women, +swept down the polished floor, and the procession departed with much +rustling of robes. Some of the vacant chairs were taken possession of by +men, and already delicate blue clouds of smoke were curling upwards to +the vaulted ceiling. It was the short period dearer to the heart of man +than any during the day. Every one stretched out his stiff limbs, filled +his glass and assumed his favourite attitude. Voices were raised and a +sudden change of tone crept in upon the conversation. Only Mr. Ravenor +and a few of the older guests appeared to be still engrossed in the +discussion of some abstruse scientific controversy then raging in the +reviews. Everyone else seemed to be talking lightly of the day's sport, +the arrangements for the morrow, and his own and other men's horses. + +It was getting a little slow for me. Cecil had found some friends, and +the sound of his hearty boyish laugh came to me often from the other end +of the table. My immediate neighbours were a bishop, who was deep in +discussion with a minor canon concerning the doings of some recent +diocesan conference, at which things seemed to have been more lively than +harmonious; and on my other side Lord Penraven was quarrelling with the +lord lieutenant of the county about the pedigree of a racehorse. Both +disputes were utterly without interest to me, and it was no small relief +when, as I caught Mr. Ravenor's eye, he beckoned me to a vacant chair by +his side. + +The conversation, which had been for a moment interrupted, was soon +renewed. I sat silent, listening with ever-increasing admiration to the +play of words, the subtle arguments, and the epigrammatic brilliancy of +expression which flashed from one to another of the four disputants. Had +I known anything of the social or literary life of London I might have +been less astonished, for Mr. Ravenor and two of his antagonists, Mr. +Justice Haselton and Professor Clumbers, were reckoned among the finest +talkers of their day. + +At last Mr. Ravenor, very much to my regret, brought the conversation to +an abrupt close by proposing an exodus to the drawing-rooms. A few of the +younger men looked eager to depart, but the majority rose and stretched +themselves with the sad faces of martyrs before forming themselves into +little groups and quitting the room. Mr. Ravenor remained until the last +and motioned me to stay with him. + +"Well, Philip," he said, when everyone had gone, "how are you getting on +at Dr. Randall's? Do you like being there?" + +"Very much for some things," I answered. + +He looked at me closely. + +"There is something you have to tell me," he said. "What is it?" + +I glanced around at the little army of servants moving noiselessly about +on all sides. + +"There is something," I acknowledged, "but I would rather tell it you +when we are quite alone. Besides, it is rather a long story. It has +mostly to do with Mr. Marx." + +The calm, stately serenity of Mr. Ravenor's face underwent a sudden +change. His dark brows almost met into his eyes, which I could not read. +The change strengthened the impression which had lately been growing upon +me. There was some deep mystery connected with the personality of Mr. +Marx in which Mr. Ravenor was somehow concerned. + +"What about Mr. Marx? What can you have to say to me about him?" he asked +coldly. + +"More than I should care to say here," I answered, glancing around. "It +is rather a long----" + +"Come into the library to me the last thing tonight," he said quickly. "I +must know what this story is that you have got hold of. We will go into +the drawing-room now." + +In a few moments the cloud had vanished from his face and he was again +the polished host. And I, under protest, was inveigled into a corner by +Miss Agnes Hamilton, and given my first lesson in the fashionable art of +flirting. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVII. + MR. MARX IS WANTED. + + +It was long past midnight before the last little knots of guests had +wished one another good night, and even then Lord Penraven and a few +chosen companions only adjourned to a smaller smoking-room in the back +regions of the Castle. I knew that Mr. Ravenor was not with them, +however, for I had seen him, after having outstayed all save this handful +of his guests, cross the hall and enter the library. In about half an +hour I followed him. + +I had expected to find him resting after the great strain which the +multitude and importance of his guests must have imposed upon him during +the day. But I found him very differently employed. He was bending low +over his writing-table, with a cup of tea by his side, and already +several sheets of closely-written foolscap were scattered about the +table. At the sound of my entrance he looked up at once and laid down his +pen. + +"Sit there," he said, pointing to an easy-chair opposite to him. "I want +to see your face while you are talking. Now, what is this tale which you +have to tell me?" + +His manner was far from encouraging and his face wore a severe +expression. Altogether I felt a little nervous. But it had to be done, so +I began. + +First I told him all about Leonard de Cartienne, his bad influence over +Cecil, and his correspondence with Mr. Marx. He listened without remark. +Then I paused to take breath. + +"I don't know what you'll say about the rest of my story," I went on. "I +scarcely know what to think of it myself. But here it is. There is an inn +in Little Drayton kept by a man named Hart, and Cecil and de Cartienne go +there--sometimes. About a month before I went to Borden Tower the man +Hart disappeared. He left home on a journey, the nature of which he kept +secret even from his daughter, and has never returned or been heard of. +All the information which his daughter can give is that he has left home +before on a similar errand and invariably returned with money after three +or four days." + +I paused and glanced at Mr. Ravenor. He was looking a little puzzled, but +not particularly interested. + +"About a month before I left here for Borden Tower," I went on, "I met +Mr. Marx in Torchester and drove home with him late at night. On the moor +we were furiously attacked by a man who seemed to be mad and Mr. Marx was +slightly injured. Two days afterwards Mr. Marx was assaulted by the same +man in the park, and if I had not turned up he would probably have been +killed. The man was a lunatic in every respect, save one. He recognized +Mr. Marx as his enemy and made deliberate attempts upon his life." + +Mr. Ravenor softly pulled down the green lampshade on the side nearest to +him, and in the subdued light I could scarcely see his face, but I felt +that his interest in my story was growing. + +"Well, of course, when Cecil began talking about this man Hart's +disappearance," I continued, "and I heard a good deal about it at Little +Drayton, I began to think about this lunatic whom no one knew anything +about. I put down the exact dates, and I found that Hart must have left +Little Drayton about a week before the first attack on Mr. Marx by the +unknown madman. Of course, this by itself was scarcely worth thinking +about, but the strangest part of it is to come. More out of curiosity +than anything, I asked to see a photograph of Mr. Hart. His daughter took +us into the sitting-room to look at one and to her amazement found it +gone. All search was unavailing. Someone had taken it away. Well, I found +out where it had been taken and went to order a copy. It was no use. The +negative had been sold to the same person who alone could have entered +Miss Hart's sitting-room and abstracted the photograph. That person was +Leonard de Cartienne, and he has been in communication with Mr. Marx, the +man whom the lunatic tried to murder. Can you make anything of that, +sir?" + +Apparently Mr. Ravenor had made something of it. He was leaning a little +forward in his chair and at the sight of his face a great fear came upon +me. + +A ghastly change had crept into it. His eyes were burning with a dry, +fierce fire, and the pallor extended even to his lips. + +He sat forward, with his long, wasted fingers, stretched out convulsively +before his face, like a man who sees a hideous vision pass before his +sight and yet remains spellbound, powerless to speak, or move, or break +away from the loathsome spectacle. + +Sickly beads of perspiration stood out upon his clammy forehead and his +dry lips were moving, although no sound came from them. + +I gazed at him in a speechless horror, and as I looked the room and all +its contents seemed to swim around me. What could Mr. Ravenor have found +so awful in the story which I had told and how could it concern him? + +Suddenly he rose from his seat and stood over me. I was more than ever +alarmed at his strange expression. + +"There is a third connection," he said hoarsely. "Do you remember that a +man called to see me, whom I declined to admit, on the night of your +first visit here? When I changed my mind he had disappeared." + +I gave a little cry and felt my blood run cold. + +"Mr. Marx had something to do with that," I faltered out. "I met him +under the trees in the avenue and he was horribly frightened to see me. I +had heard a cry. I was listening." + +Mr. Ravenor stretched out his hand to the bell and rang it violently. We +sat in silence, dreading almost to look at one another until it was +answered. + +"Go to Mr. Marx's room and bid him come here at once," Mr. Ravenor +commanded. + +The man bowed and withdrew. When he reappeared he carried in his hand a +letter. + +"Mr. Marx left this on his desk for you, sir," he said. + +"Left it! Where is he? Is he not in the Castle?" questioned Mr. Ravenor +sharply. + +"No, sir. He had a dog cart about half-past four to catch the London +express at Mellborough." + +Mr. Ravenor tore open the note and then threw it across to me. There were +only a few words: + +"Dear Mr. Ravenor,--Kindly excuse me for a day or two. Important business +of a private nature calls me hurriedly to London. If you are writing me, +my address will be at the _Hotel Metropole_. M." + +There was a silence between us. Then I looked into Mr. Ravenor's +colourless face. + +"We must find that lunatic," I whispered. + +Mr. Ravenor turned from me with a shudder. + +"We must do nothing of the sort." + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVIII. + I ACCEPT A MISSION. + + +There was a silence which threatened to last for ever. + +At length Mr. Ravenor turned his head slightly and looked towards me. The +eagerness which he saw in my face seemed to strike some grim vein of +humour in him, for his lips parted a dreary, fleeting smile. + +"Are you expecting to hear a confession?" he asked, as it passed away. + +A confession from him! God forbid! From him who had ever seemed to me so +far above other men, that none other were worthy to be classed with him! +All the old fire of my boyish hero-worship blazed up at the very thought. +A confession from him! The bare idea was sacrilegious. + +He read his answer in the mute, amazed protest of my looks, and did not +wait for the words which were trembling upon my lips. + +"It would do you little good to tell you all that your story has +suggested to me," he said quietly. "Some day you will know everything; +but not yet--not yet." + +He paused and walked slowly up and down the room, with his hands behind +him and his eyes fixed upon the floor. Suddenly he stopped and looked up. + +"Marx must come back at once," he said, with something of his old +firmness. "I shall send him a telegram to-morrow to return immediately." + +"And if he doesn't come?" + +"I must go to him. This matter must be cleared up as far as it can be and +at once." + +"Your guests," I reminded him. "How can you leave them?" + +"I forgot them," he exclaimed impatiently. "Philip, will you go?" he +asked suddenly. + +"Yes," I answered quietly, although my heart was beating fast. "Yes, I +will go. Perhaps it would be best." + +He let his hand rest for a moment upon my shoulder, and, though he did +not say so, I knew that he was pleased. Then he glanced at the clock. + +"Two o'clock!" he exclaimed. "Philip, you must leave me now." + +I looked towards his writing-table, at which he was already seating +himself, and hesitated. + +"You are not going to write now?" I ventured to protest. + +"Why not?" + +I pointed to the clock; but he only smiled. + +"I am no slave to regular hours," he said quietly. "An hour or two's +sleep is enough for me at a time." + +So I left him. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIX. + MY RIDE. + + +It was a few minutes past nine when I descended into the long, oaken +gallery where breakfast was served, and at the head of the principal +table sat Mr. Ravenor in hunting costume. Everyone who was down was +evidently bound for the meet. The men were nearly all in scarlet coats, +and the women in riding-habits and trim little hats, with their veils +pushed back. There was a great clatter of knives and forks, and a good +deal of carving going on at the long, polished sideboard, and above it +all, a loud hum of cheerful talk; altogether it was a very pleasant meal +that was in progress. + +I was making my way towards a gap in the table at the lower end when I +heard my name called, and looked down into Miss Hamilton's piquant, +upturned face. + +"Come and sit by me," she exclaimed, moving her skirts to make room. +"See. I've hidden a chair here--for somebody." + +I took it with a laugh. + +"Well, as somebody is so very lazy this morning," I said, "he doesn't +deserve to have it; so I will. Can I get you anything?" + +She shook her head. + +"No, thanks. Look after yourself, do, for we shall have to start +presently. And now tell me, how did you know for whom I was saving that +chair?" + +"Well, I supposed it was for Cis," I remarked, making a vigorous attack +upon an adjacent ham. + +"Indeed! And supposing I were to say that it wasn't--that it was for +someone else?" + +"Poor Cis!" I said, with a sigh. "Don't tell me who the someone else was, +Miss Hamilton, please." + +"Why not?" + +"Because I shall hate him." + +"For Lord Silchester's sake?" + +"No; for my own." + +"Mr. Morton, you're talking nonsense." + +"Well, didn't you undertake to teach me how last evening?" + +"Teach you! Oh!"--a little ironically--"you're a very apt pupil, Mr. +Morton." + +I looked at her in mute remonstrance. + +"With such a tutor, Miss Hamilton----" + +She stopped me, laughing. + +"Oh, you're a dreadful boy! Let me give you some tea to keep you quiet." + +I drew a long sigh and attacked my breakfast vigorously. Presently she +began again. + +"Do you know Nanpantan, Mr. Morton, where the meet is this morning?" + +"Very well," I answered, cutting myself some more ham. "Do you mind +giving me another cup of tea, Miss Hamilton? It was so good!" + +She nodded and drew off her thick dogskin glove again. + +"You thirsty mortal!" she remarked. "I'm afraid you must have been +smoking too much last night." + +"One cigarette," I assured her. "No more, upon my honour." + +"Really! Then you won't get any more tea from me to unsteady your nerves. +Now tell me, Mr. Morton, do you know this country?" + +"Every inch of it. No one better." + +"Oh, how nice! And you'll give me a lead to-day, won't you? I do so want +to do well." + +"I should be delighted," I answered; "but, unfortunately, I'm not going +to hunt." + +"Not going to hunt! Then what are you going to do, pray?" + +"Going for a ride with a young lady," I answered. + +"Oh, indeed!"--with a toss of the head. + +There was a short silence. Then curiosity conquered the fit of +indignation which Miss Hamilton had thought well to assume. + +"May I ask the name of the fortunate young lady?" + +"You may," I answered calmly, helping myself to toast. "It is little Lady +Beatrice." + +She burst into a peal of laughter, but stopped suddenly. + +"What nonsense! Are you going to take the groom's place, then, and hold +the leading-rein?" + +"If she rides with one, very likely," I answered. + +There was a short silence. Then Miss Hamilton returned to the charge. + +"How old is your inamorata?" she inquired. "Seven or eight?" + +"Twelve next birthday," I answered promptly. + +"It's quite too ridiculous!" she declared, tossing her head. "I really +wanted you to come with me this morning, because you know the country," +she added, with a sidelong glance from her dark eyes. + +"Nothing would have given me greater pleasure," I declared; "but a +promise is a promise, you know, and we made this one before we knew any +thing about the meet." + +"We! Who are we?" she asked quickly. + +"Cis and I." + +"Cecil won't go if I ask him to come with me," she said confidently. + +I shrugged my shoulders. + +"Perhaps not. The more reason why I should." + +She turned away from me half amused, half vexed. Just then Cecil +appeared, and she beckoned him eagerly to her side. + +"Cecil, Mr. Morton tells me that you have promised to ride with Beatrice +this morning," she said. + +"So we did," he exclaimed. "Awfully sorry to disappoint her, but, of +course, I didn't know anything about the meet." + +"Oh, I am glad that you are not going to desert me, then," she said, +laughing. "Mr. Morton declares that he is going to keep his engagement." + +"Very good of him, if he is," remarked Cecil, stirring his tea with great +cheerfulness. + +"Don't pity me," I said, rising. "I'm sure I shall enjoy it. _Au revoir_, +Miss Hamilton." + +And I did enjoy it. Many a time afterwards I thought of that slim little +figure in the long riding-habit, her golden hair streaming in the breeze, +and her dainty, flushed face aglow with excitement and delight, and of +the pleasant prattle which her little ladyship poured into my willing +ears. I remembered, too, her quaint, naive ways, and the grave way in +which she thanked me for taking care of her--little mannerisms which soon +yielded to familiarity and vanished altogether. And, strange though it +may seem, I found always more satisfaction in recalling these things than +the winged look and merry speeches of Miss Agnes Hamilton. + + + + + CHAPTER XL. + MY MISSION. + + +For the first time in my life I was in London--and alone. There had been +no reply from Mr. Marx to the telegrams commanding his instant return, +and so on the third morning after my arrival at Ravenor Castle I quitted +it again to go in search of him. Accustomed though he was to conceal his +feelings, and admirably though he succeeded in doing so in the presence +of his guests, I could see that Mr. Ravenor was deeply anxious to have +the suspicions which my story had awakened either dispelled or confirmed. +Nor, indeed, although their purport was scarcely so clear to me, was I +less so. + +I suppose that no one, especially if he had never before been in a great +city, could pass across London for the first time without some emotion of +wonder. To me it was like entering an unknown world. The vast throng of +people, the ceaseless din of traffic, and the huge buildings, all filled +me with amazement which, as we drove through the Strand to Northumberland +Avenue, grew into bewilderment. Only the recollection of my mission and +its grave import recalled me to myself as the cab drew up before the +Hotel Metropole. + +My bag was taken possession of at once by one of the hall-porters and I +engaged a room. Then I made inquiries about Mr. Marx. + +The clerk turned over two or three pages of the ledger and shook his +head. There was no one of that name stopping in the hotel, he informed +me. + +"Can you tell me whether anyone of that name has been staying here during +the last week?" I asked. + +He made a further search and shook his head. + +"We have not had the name of Marx upon our books at all, sir, during my +recollection," he declared. "Quite an uncommon name, too; I should +certainly have remembered it." + +"There have been letters addressed to him here by that name," I said; +"can you tell me what has become of them?" + +He shook his head. + +"That would not be in my department, sir; you will ascertain by inquiring +at the head-porter's bureau round the corner." + +I thanked him and made my way thither across the reception hall. The +answer to my question was given at once. + +"There are letters for a Mr. Marx nearly every morning, sir, and +telegrams," said the official; "but I don't think that Mr. Marx himself +is stopping at the hotel; another gentleman always applies for them and +sends them on." + +"And is the other gentleman staying here?" I asked. + +"Yes, sir; No. 110." + +"Has he any authority to receive them from Mr. Marx?" I inquired. + +"I believe so. He showed us a note from Mr. Marx, asking him to receive +and forward them, and he has to sign, too, for every one he receives. It +is a rule with us that anyone receiving letters not addressed to himself +should do so, whether he has authority or not." + +"Can you tell me his name?" I asked. "I am sorry to give you so much +trouble, but I particularly wish to ascertain Mr. Marx's whereabouts, and +this gentleman knows it." + +"Certainly, sir. John, what is No. 110's name?" he asked an assistant. + +"Count de Cartienne," was the prompt reply. + + + + + CHAPTER XLI. + THE COUNT DE CARTIENNE. + + +My surprise at this last piece of information could not pass unnoticed. +Both the hall-porter and his assistant were evidently well-trained +servants, but they looked curiously at me and then exchanged rapid +glances with one another. I recovered myself, however, in an instant. + +"This Count de Cartienne," I asked, "is he young? I think I know him. +Rather dark and thin and short? Is that he?" + +The man shook his head. + +"No, sir. Count de Cartienne is a tall, aristocratic-looking gentleman, +middle-aged. You are certain to see him about the hotel. He is in and out +a great deal." + +I thanked him and moved away, for the people were beginning to flock in, +inquiring for their keys. As it was nearly dinner-time, I followed their +example and went to my room to change my travelling clothes for more +conventional attire. + +The lift was almost full when I entered it; but as we were on the point +of starting, a lady, followed by an elderly gentleman, stepped in. I rose +at once, being nearest the gate, to offer my seat, but the words which I +had intended to speak died away upon my lips. + +Something in the graceful figure, the soft, sweet eyes, and the +delicately-cut features, seemed to remind me of my mother. It was a faint +resemblance, perhaps--scarcely more than a suggestion--but it was still +enough to make my heart beat fast, and to arrest for a moment my +recollection of where I was. Then suddenly I remembered that I was +behaving, to say the least of it, strangely, and I turned abruptly away. + +At the third floor I stepped out and walked across the corridor to my +room without glancing once behind. But it was some time before I unpacked +my portmanteau, or even thought of dressing. Then I remembered that if +they were dining at the hotel I should see them again, and, turning out +my clothes at once, I dressed with feverish haste. For the moment I had +forgotten all about Count de Cartienne, forgotten even the very purpose +of my visit to London. Only one face, linked with a memory, dwelt in my +mind and usurped all my thoughts. I felt a strange excitability stealing +through my frame, and the fingers which sought to fasten my tie shook so +that they failed in their duty. I seemed to have stepped into another +state of being. + +When I descended into the dining-room it was already almost full, and +there were very few empty tables. For a minute or two I stood behind the +entrance screen, looking around. Nowhere could I see any sign of the lady +whose face had so interested me. Either she was dining away from the +hotel or had not yet put in an appearance. Hoping devoutly that the +latter was the case, I took possession of a small table laid for three +facing the door and ordered my dinner. + +I had scarcely finished my soup before an instinctive consciousness that +I was being watched made me look quickly up. Standing just inside the +room, calmly surveying the assembled guests, and myself in particular, +was a tall, distinguished-looking man, perfectly clean-shaven, rather +fair than otherwise, with a single eye-glass stuck in his eye, through +which he was coolly examining me. He carried an Inverness cape and an +opera-hat, and his evening clothes, which fitted him perfectly, were in +the best possible taste, even down to the plain gold stud in his shirt +front. His age might have been anything from thirty to fifty, for his +carriage was perfectly upright, and his hair only slightly streaked with +grey. Altogether his appearance was that of a well-turned-out, well-bred +man, and as I glanced away I felt a little mild curiosity to know who he +was. + +He came a few steps farther into the room, and after a moment's +hesitation passed by a larger table laid for six and took the vacant seat +at mine. He wished me good-evening in a clear, pleasant voice, with a +slight foreign accent, resigned his coat and hat to a more than +ordinarily attentive waiter, and drawing a card from his pocket began +deliberately to write out his dishes from the menu. Then he shut up his +pencil, and leaning back in his chair once more glanced round at the +roomful of people. Having apparently satisfied his curiosity, he yawned, +and turning towards me, began to talk. + +Soon I began to feel myself quite at home with him, and to enjoy my +dinner with a greatly-added zest. Indeed, in listening to some of his +quaint recitals of adventures at foreign hotels, I almost forgot to watch +for the advent of the lady and gentleman for whom I had been looking out +so eagerly only a few minutes before. + +As it happened, however, I saw them enter, and my attention immediately +wandered from the story which my companion was telling. + +Something in the fragility of her appearance, and the weight with which +she leaned upon her husband's arm, seemed to mark her as an invalid, and +this expression was in a measure heightened by her black lace dress, +which, combined with the too perfect complexion and slight figure, gave +to her face an almost ethereal expression. As I looked into the deep blue +eyes I seemed again to be able to trace that vague likeness to my mother, +and I felt my heart beat fast as the impression grew upon me. It was only +when my new friend stopped abruptly in his anecdote and looked at me +questioningly, that I could withdraw my eyes from her. + +"Are they friends of yours who have just come in?" he asked, without +turning round. + +"No; I never saw them before this afternoon in my life. I wonder if you +could tell me who they are?" + +He moved his chair a little, so as to be able to do so without rudeness, +and looked round. I happened to be watching him, and I saw at once that +he recognised them. + +Strange to say, the recognition seemed to afford him anything but +pleasure; a change passed over his face like a flash of lightning, and +although I only just caught it, it made me feel for the moment decidedly +uncomfortable. While it lasted the face had not been a pleasant one to +look upon. But it was not that alone which troubled me. During the moment +that his expression had been transformed, it had given me an odd, +disagreeable sense of familiarity. + +He was himself again almost immediately--so soon that I could scarcely +credit the change--and more than once afterwards I felt inclined to put +that evil look and lowering brow down to a trick of my imagination. Even +when I had decided to do so, however, I caught myself wondering more than +once of whom they had reminded me. + +He moved his chair again and went on with his dinner in silence. + +"You recognised them?" I ventured to remark, + +"Yes," he answered curtly. + +"Would you mind telling me who they are, then?" I persisted. "I feel +interested in them." + +He looked up curiously and kept his eyes fixed on me while he answered my +question. + +"The man is Lord Langerdale, an Irish peer, and the lady with him is his +wife." + +"Thank you. The lady's face reminded me of someone I knew once." + +He removed his eyes and his tone grew lighter. + +"Indeed! Rather an uncommon type of face, too. She's a lovely woman +still, though she looks delicate." + +I assented silently. Somehow I did not care to discuss her with this +stranger. + +"Perhaps you noticed," he went on, after a short pause, "that it was +rather a shock to me to see them here?" + +"Yes, I did notice that," I admitted. + +He sighed and looked grave for a moment. Then he poured himself out a +glass of champagne and drank it deliberately off. + +"It was purely a matter of association," he said, in a low tone. "A +somewhat painful incident in my life was connected with that family, +although with no present member of it. Pass the bottle, and let us change +the subject." + +We talked of other things, and for a time all my former interest in his +piquant anecdotes and trenchant remarks was renewed. But while he was +gravely considering with a waiter the relative merits of two brands of +claret, I found my eyes wandering to the table at our right, in search of +the woman whose face had so attracted me. This time my eyes met hers. + +Then a strange thing happened. Instead of looking away at once, she kept +her eyes steadily fixed upon me and suddenly gave a distinct start. I saw +the colour rush into her face and leave it again almost as swiftly; her +thin lips were slightly parted, and her whole expression was one of great +agitation. I tried to look away, but I could not; I felt somehow forced +to return her steady gaze. But when she turned to her husband and touched +him on the arm, evidently to direct his attention to me, the spell was +broken, and I moved my chair slightly, making some casual remark to my +companion which was sufficient to set the ball of conversation rolling +again. But one stolen glance a few moments later showed me that both +husband and wife were regarding me attentively, and several times +afterwards, when I looked over towards their table, I met Lady +Langerdale's eyes, full of a sad, wistful, and withal puzzled expression +which I could not read. + +As dinner drew towards a close it occurred to me that my _vis-a-vis_ had +studiously avoided turning once towards our neighbours. If he desired to +escape recognition, however, he was unsuccessful, for just as we were +beginning to think of quitting our places, Lord Langerdale left his seat +to speak to some acquaintances at the other end of the room, and on his +way back he looked straight into my companion's face. He started +slightly, hesitated, and then came slowly up to our table. + +"Eugene!" he exclaimed. "By all that's wonderful, is it really you? Why, +we heard that you had become an Oriental, and forsworn the ways and +haunts of civilisation." + +He spoke lightly, but it was easy to see that the meeting was a very +embarrassing one for both of them. + +"I have not been in England long," was the quiet reply. "Lady Langerdale, +I am glad to see, is well." + +"She is fairly well. How strange that we should meet here! Why, it must +be twenty years since I have seen you." + +"I have spent but little time in England." + +"I suppose not," Lord Langerdale answered slowly. "We have heard of you +occasionally. Will you come and speak to my wife?" + +"I think not," was the calm reply. "It could only be very painful for +both of us. If Lady Langerdale desires it--not unless--I will call upon +you at your rooms. But, frankly, I would rather not." + +Lord Langerdale appeared by no means offended, rather a little relieved, +and answered sadly: + +"It is for you to choose. If you can tell her that the past has lost some +of its bitterness for you, and--and----" + +He hesitated and seemed at a loss how to express himself. My _vis-a-vis_ +smiled--a smile of peculiar bitterness it was--and interrupted cynically: + +"And that I am a reformed character, I suppose you would say, and have +become a respectable member of society! No, no, Lord Langerdale, I am no +hypocrite, and I shall never tell her that. A wanderer upon the face of +the earth I have been during the best years of my life, and a wanderer I +shall always be--adventurer, some people have said. Well, well, let it be +so; what matter?" + +Lord Langerdale shook his head doubtfully. + +"I am sorry to hear you talk so, Eugene; but of one thing you may always +be sure--Elsie and I will never be your judges. If you feel that it will +reopen old wounds, stop away; but if not, why, come and see us. You have +a young friend with you," he added, turning slightly towards me and +speaking a little more earnestly than the occasion seemed to require. + +The man whom he called Eugene shook his head. + +"I am not so fortunate," he said stiffly. "I can claim no more than what +on the Continent we call a 'table acquaintance' with this young +gentleman." + +It might have been my fancy, but it seemed to me that Lord Langerdale +looked distinctly disappointed. He bowed courteously to me, however, +shook hands with his friend and rejoined his wife. My new acquaintance +resumed his former position, and, with it, his old nonchalant manner. + +"Your pardon," he said lightly, "for this long digression. And now tell +me, _mon ami_, shall we spend the evening together? You are a stranger in +London, you say; I am not," he added drily. "Come, shall I be your +cicerone?" + +I really had nothing else to do, so I assented at once. + +"Good! Let us finish the bottle to a pleasant evening. But, ah! I forgot. +We must be introduced. The English custom demands it, even though we +introduce ourselves. Your name is?" + +"Morton," I answered--"Philip Morton. I haven't a card." + +"Good! Then, Mr. Philip Morton, permit me the honour of introducing to +you--myself. I am called de Cartienne--the Count Eugene de Cartienne--but +I do not use the title in this country." + + + + + CHAPTER XLII. + NEWS OF MR. MARX. + + +For a moment or two I remained quite silent, for the simple reason that I +was far too astonished to make any remark. My new acquaintance sat +looking at me with slightly-raised eyebrows and carelessly toying with +his eyeglass; yet, notwithstanding his apparent nonchalance, I felt +somehow aware that he was watching me keenly. + +"My name appears to be a surprise to you," he remarked, keeping his eyes +fixed steadily upon my face. "Have you heard it before, may I ask?" + +"Yes," I assented, "one of the fellows down at Borden Tower----" + +"What, you know Leonard?" he interrupted. "Egad! how strange! Then you +are one of Dr. Randall's pupils, I suppose?" + +"Yes; I have only been there a very short time, though. And Leonard +is----" + +"My son." + +I looked at him intently. Now that the fact itself had been suggested to +me, I could certainly trace come faint likeness. But what puzzled me most +was that he seemed also to remind me, although more vaguely, of someone +else, whom I could not call to mind at all. Neither did he seem +particularly anxious for me to assist him, for, as though somewhat +annoyed at my close scrutiny, he rose abruptly to his feet. + +"Come, what do you say to cigarettes and coffee? We are outstaying +everybody here." + +I followed him downstairs into the smoke-room. We seated ourselves upon a +luxurious divan, and the Count immediately began to talk about his son. + +"And so you know Leonard? How strange! Do you see much of one another?" + +"Naturally, considering that there are only three of us at Dr. +Randall's," I reminded him. + +"Ah, just so! And your other fellow pupil is young Lord Silchester, is he +not? Rather an awkward number, three. Do you all chum together pretty +well?" + +What was I to say? I could not tell him that my relations with his son +were decidedly inimical; so, after a moment's hesitation, I answered a +little evasively: + +"I'm afraid we're not a very sociable trio. You see, Cis and I are very +keen on out-of-door amusements, and your son rather prefers reading." + +He nodded. + +"Yes; I quite understand. You and Lord Silchester are thoroughly English, +and essentially so in your tastes and love of sport. Leonard, now, is +more than half a foreigner. His mother was an Austrian lady, and I myself +am of French extraction. By the by, Mr. Morton, may I ask you a +question--in confidence?" he added slowly. + +"Certainly." + +"It is about Leonard. I don't think that you need have any scruples about +telling me, for I am his father, you know, and have a certain right to +know everything about him." + +He looked at me gravely, as though for confirmation of his words, and I +silently expressed my assent. Leonard de Cartienne was nothing to me; and +if his father was going to ask me the question which I hoped he was, he +should have a straightforward answer. + +"I sent my son to Dr. Randall's," he began, sinking his voice to a +confidential whisper, "not because he was backward in his studies--for +such is not, I believe, the case--but because he has unfortunately +inherited a very deplorable taste. I found it out only by accident, and +it was a very great shock to me. Leonard is fond--too fond--of playing +cards for money. I thought that at Borden Tower he would have no +opportunity for indulging this lamentable weakness; but from what I have +recently heard about Dr. Randall, it has occurred to me that he is +perhaps a little too much of the student and too little of the +schoolmaster. You understand me? I mean that he is perhaps so closely +wrapped up in his private work, that after the hours which he gives to +his pupils for instruction they may secure almost as much liberty as +though they were at college." + +"That's just it," I answered: "and, M. de Cartienne, now that you have +spoken to me of it, I will tell you something. Your son does play a good +deal with Lord Silchester. I know that this is so, for I have played +myself occasionally." + +"And Lord Silchester wins, I presume?" + +Something in the Count's tone as he asked the question, and something in +his face as I glanced up, did not please me. Both seemed to tell the same +tale, both somehow seemed to imply that his question to me was altogether +sarcastic, and that he knew the contrary to be the case. + +It was the first gleam of mistrust which I had felt towards my new +acquaintance, and it did not last, for the expression of deep concern and +annoyance with which he heard my answer seemed too natural to be assumed. + +"On the contrary, your son always wins," I told him drily. + +His finely-pencilled dark eyebrows almost met in a heavy frown, and he +threw his cigarette away impatiently. + +"I'm very much obliged to you, Mr. Morton, for answering my question," he +said; "but I needn't tell you that I'm very sorry to hear what you say. +Something must be done with Mr. Leonard at once." + +He lit another cigarette and threw himself back in a corner of the divan. +Then I made up my mind to speak to him on the subject which was uppermost +in my mind. + +"You know a Mr. Marx, I believe? I was inquiring for him at the hotel +office this afternoon, and they told me that you were forwarding his +letters. Could you give me his address?" + +M. de Cartienne removed his cigarette from his teeth, and looked dubious. + +"Yes, I know Marx; know him well," he admitted; "but your request puts me +in rather an awkward position. You see, this is how the matter lies," he +added, leaning forward confidentially. "Marx and I are old friends, and +he's been of great service to me more than once, and never asked for any +return. Well, I met him--I won't say when, but it wasn't long ago--in +Pall Mall, and he hailed me as the very man he was most anxious to meet. +We lunched together, and then he told me what he wanted. He was in London +for a short while, he said, and wished to remain perfectly incognito. +There would be letters for him, he said, at the Metropole. Would I fetch +them, and forward them to him at an address which he would give me, on +condition that I gave him my word of honour to keep it secret? I asked, +naturally, what reason he had for going into hiding; for virtually that +is what it seemed to me to be; but he would give me no definite answer. +Would I do him this favour or not? he asked. And, remembering the many +services which he had rendered me, I found it quite impossible to refuse. +That is my position. I'm really extremely sorry not to be able to help +you, but you see for yourself that I cannot." + +His tone was perfectly serious and his manner earnest. I had not the +faintest shadow of doubt as to his sincerity. + +"You can't help me at all then?" I said, no doubt with some of the +disappointment which I felt in my tone. + +He looked doubtful. + +"Well, I don't quite know about that," he said slowly, as though weighing +something over in his mind. "Look here, Mr. Morton," he added, frankly +enough, "what do you want with the man? Is it anything unpleasant?" + +"Not at all," I answered. "I do not wish any harm to Mr. Marx unless he +deserves it. I want to ask him a few questions, that's all. Unless the +man's a perfect scoundrel he will be able to answer them satisfactorily, +and my having discovered his whereabouts will not harm him. If, on the +other hand, he cannot answer those questions, why, then, you may take my +word for it, M. de Cartienne, that he's an unmitigated blackguard, +perfectly unworthy of your friendship, and undeserving of the slightest +consideration from you." + +M. de Cartienne nodded and leaned forward, with his arm across the divan. + +"You put the matter very plainly," he said, "and what you say is fair +enough. I'll tell you how far I am prepared to help you. I won't tell you +Mr. Marx's address, because I have pledged my word not to divulge it; +but, if you like, I'll take you where there will be a very fair chance of +your seeing him." + +"He is in London, then?" + +The Count shrugged his shoulders and smiled slightly. + +"Permit me to keep my word in the letter, if not in the spirit," he +answered. "I am going to spend my evening in this way; I am going, first +of all, to a theatre for an hour or so; then I am going to call at a +couple of clubs, and afterwards I am going to a club of a somewhat +different sort. If you like to be my companion for the evening I shall be +charmed; and if it should happen that we run up against any friend of +yours--well, the world is not so very large, after all." + +"Thanks. I'll come with you with pleasure!" I answered without +hesitation. + +He stood up underneath the soft glare of the electric light, and as I +turned towards him something in his face puzzled me. It was gone directly +my eyes met his--gone, but not before it had left a curious impression. +It seemed almost as though a triumphant light had flashed for an instant +in his bright, steel-coloured eyes. + + + + + CHAPTER XLIII. + ABOUT TOWN. + + +We passed up the heavily-carpeted steps into the central hall of the +hotel. The Count stopped for a moment to inquire for letters at the chief +porter's bureau, and as we turned away we came face to face with Lord +Langerdale. + +He hesitated when he saw us together, but only for a moment. Then he +advanced with a genial smile upon his well-cut, handsome face. + +"You're the very man I wanted to see, de Cartienne," he said. "I suppose +you know your young friend's name by this time? Will you introduce us?" + +The Count looked distinctly annoyed, but he complied at once. + +"Lord Langerdale," he said coldly, "this is Mr. Morton. Mr. Morton--Lord +Langerdale." + +Lord Langerdale held out his hand frankly and drew me a little on one +side, although not out of the Count's hearing. + +"Mr. Morton," he said pleasantly, "I am going to make a somewhat +extraordinary request. My only excuse for it is a lady's will, and when +you reach my age you will know that it is a thing by no means to be +lightly regarded. My wife has been very much impressed by what she terms +a marvellous likeness between you and--and a very near relative of hers +whom she had lost sight of for a long while. She is most anxious to make +your acquaintance. May I have the honour of presenting you to her?" + +For a moment my head swam. The likeness of Lady Langerdale to my mother, +and then this strange fancy on her part! What if they should be something +more than coincidences? The very thought was bewildering. But how could +it be? No; the thing was impossible. Still, the request was couched in +such terms that there could be but one answer. + +"I shall be extremely pleased!" I declared readily. + +"Then come into the drawing-room for a few minutes, will you?" Lord +Langerdale said. "Good-night, Eugene! No use asking you to join us, I +know." + +Count de Cartienne turned on his heel with brow as black as thunder. + +"Good-night, Lord Langerdale!" he said stiffly; "Good-night, Mr. Morton!" + +"But I am coming with you, you know!" I exclaimed, surprised at his +manner. "Couldn't you wait for me five minutes?" + +"It is impossible!" he answered shortly; "we are late already! My +carriage must have been waiting half an hour. I had no idea of the time." + +It was rather an embarrassing moment for me. The Count evidently expected +me to keep my engagement with him, and would be offended if I did not do +so. On the other hand, Lord Langerdale was waiting to take me to his +wife, and, from the slight frown with which he was regarding de +Cartienne, I judged that he did not approve of his interference. + +Inclination prompted me strongly to throw my engagement with the Count to +the winds and to place myself under Lord Langerdale's guidance. But, +after all, the sole purpose of my journey to London was to discover Mr. +Marx, and if I neglected this opportunity I might lose sight of the only +man who could help me in my search. Clearly, therefore, my duty was to +fulfil my prior engagement. + +"If M. de Cartienne cannot wait," I said regretfully, "I am afraid, Lord +Langerdale, that the pleasure you offer me must be deferred. Would Lady +Langerdale allow me to call at your rooms to-morrow?" + +Evidently he was displeased, for his manner changed at once. + +"I will leave a note for you with the hall porter," he said. +"Good-night." + +I turned away with the Count, who preserved a perfectly unmoved +countenance. Before we had taken half a dozen steps, however, he was +accosted by a gentleman entering the hotel, and, turning round, he begged +me to excuse him for a moment. + +I strolled away by myself, waiting. Suddenly, I felt a light touch on my +arm, and, looking round, I found Lord Langerdale by my side. + +"I just want to ask you a question, Mr. Morton, if you'll allow me," he +said kindly. "Remember that I'm an old man--old enough to be your +father--and a man of the world, and you are a very young one. You won't +mind a word of advice?" + +"Most certainly not!" I assured him heartily. + +"Well, then, Count de Cartienne is quite a new acquaintance of yours, is +he not?" + +"I never saw him before this evening," I admitted. + +"And you--pardon me, but you look very young, and a great deal too fresh +and healthy for a town man--you don't know much of London life, do you?" + +"Nothing at all," I answered. "This is my first visit to London, and I +only arrived this afternoon." + +Lord Langerdale looked very serious. + +"Look here, Mr. Morton," he said earnestly, "I feel sure from your face +that I can trust you, and that what I am going to say you will consider +in confidence. I should be the last one to say anything against Eugene de +Cartienne, for he received a terrible injury from one of my family, or, +rather, my wife's family, and I fear that has exercised an evil influence +over his life. But, all the same, I cannot see you, a youngster, +perfectly inexperienced, starting out to spend your first night in town +with him without feeling it my duty to tell you that I consider him one +of the most unfortunate and most dangerous companions whom you could have +chosen. There! I hope you're not offended?" + +"How could I be?" I answered gratefully. "But I am not going out with him +from choice, or for the sake of amusement. We are together simply +because, as far as I know, he is the only man who can solve a mystery +which I have come up to London to try to clear up." + +Lord Langerdale started, and his manner became almost agitated. + +"This is most extraordinary!" he declared. "Mr. Morton, you must--ah, +here comes de Cartienne!" he broke off in a tone of deep annoyance. +"Breakfast with me to-morrow morning at ten--no, nine o'clock!" he added, +in a lower key. "I have something most important to say to you." + +I nodded assent and the Count joined us. + +There was a faint flush on his pale cheeks and his eyes were flashing +brightly, as he looked at us standing close together. It might have been +the result of his recent conversation, of course; but, coupled with his +frowning brow and quick, suspicious glance, it looked a great deal more +like a sudden fit of anger at seeing us engaged in what appeared like a +confidential talk. But there was no trace of it in his tone when he +addressed us. + +"Really, you two might be conspirators," he said lightly. "Well, Mr. +Morton, have you changed your mind, or am I to have the honour of your +company this evening?" + +"I am ready to start when you are," I answered. "Good-night once more, +Lord Langerdale." + +He shook my hand warmly, nodded to the Count, who returned the salute +with a stiff bow, and left us. We descended into the street, and a very +small, neat brougham, drawn by a pair of dark, handsome bays, drew up at +the entrance. The coachman's livery was perfectly plain, save that he +wore a cockade in his hat, and there was neither coat-of-arms nor crest +upon the panel of the door. We stepped inside, and the Count held a +speaking-tube for a moment to his mouth while he consulted his watch. +There was no footman. + +"Frivolity Theatre," he directed. And we drove off at a smart pace into +the Strand. + +We reached our destination in a few moments and had no difficulty in +obtaining seats. It was all new to me, and I felt a little bewildered as +I endeavoured to follow the performance. I soon had enough of that. The +piece was a screaming farce, vulgar and stupid. + +"I don't think Mr. Marx is here," I whispered to de Cartienne. + +"I don't think he is," was the rejoinder. "I had a good look round for +him when we came in. Have you had enough of this performance? If so, +we'll go. I think I know where we shall find Marx." + +"Then let us go at once," I urged. + +We passed out of the theatre into the street, The brougham was there +waiting for us. + +"Jump in!" said the Count, opening the door. "I'm going to tell the +fellow where to drive to." + +I obeyed him, and waited for nearly a minute before he had given his +directions and joined me. Then he took his seat by my side and we drove +quickly off. + +"Why did you not use the speaking-tube?" I asked idly. + +He answered without looking at me. + +"It is rather an out-of-the-way place," he said slowly, "and I did not +wish the man to make a mistake." + + + + + CHAPTER XLIV. + A MIDNIGHT EXCURSION TO THE SUBURBS. + + +During the earlier part of the evening, since we had left the hotel, my +companion had shown no disposition to talk. On the contrary, his silence +amounted almost to moroseness, and he had not always answered my +questions. But immediately we had started on this new expedition his +manner underwent a complete change. He seemed to lay himself out with +feverish eagerness to entertain me and to absorb my attention. + +"I hope you're not tired," he said suddenly, at the end of one of his +anecdotes. "We have rather a long drive before us." + +"Not in the least," I assured him. "What is the place we are going to?" + +"A sort of private club. In confidence, I'll tell you why it is so far +out of the way. Some of the members are fond of playing a little high, +and have started a roulette board. That sort of thing is best kept quiet, +you know." + +"The place is a gambling-club, then?" + +"Something of that sort," he acknowledged. "I shouldn't dream of taking +you there if it wasn't for the sake of meeting Marx. You understand?" + +"Perfectly, thanks. Save for that reason I shouldn't think of going." + +"What an infernal night!" he exclaimed, looking out of the carriage for a +moment; "almost enough to give one the miserables. Come, we'll shut it +out." He struck a match and, turning round, lit a lamp which was fixed at +the back of the carriage. Then he quietly pulled down the blinds and +began to tell me a story, of which I heard not a word. My thoughts were +engrossed by another matter. M. de Cartienne's action, coupled with the +strangeness of his manner, could bear but one interpretation. + +He had some reason for keeping me as much as possible in the dark as to +the route we were taking. + +For a few moments I felt, to put it mildly, uneasy. Then several possible +explanations of such conduct occurred to me, and my apprehensions grew +weaker. What more natural, after all, than that M. de Cartienne should +desire to keep secret from me the exact whereabouts of an establishment +which, by his own admission, was maintained contrary to the law? The more +I considered it, the more reasonable such an explanation appeared to me. +I began to wonder, even, that he had not asked me for some pledge of +secrecy. But there was time enough for that. + +By degrees the rattling of vehicles around us grew less and less, until +at last all traffic seemed to have died away. Once, during a pause in the +conversation, I raised the blind a little way and looked out. We had left +even the region of suburban semi-detached villas; and, blurred though the +prospect was by the mud which the fast-rolling wheels drew incessantly +into the air and on to the window-panes, I could just distinguish the dim +outline of hedges and fields beyond. + +I looked at the carriage-clock and found that we had been already an hour +and a quarter on our journey. From the furious pace at which we were +travelling we must have come nearly fifteen miles. + +"This place is a long way out," I remarked. + +The Count laughed and lit a cigarette. "Oh, there's a good reason for +that. But the men don't drive here from town--at least, not in the +winter. There's a railway-station only a mile away." + +"We're almost there now, then, I suppose?" + +He let the blind up with a spring and looked out. + +"Nearer than I imagined," he remarked. "We shall be there in three +minutes." + +He was just drawing in his head when he gave a visible start and leaned +right out of the window, with his face upturned to the beating rain, +listening intently. + +Suddenly he withdrew it, and, snatching at the check-string, pulled it +violently. I looked at him in amazement. His face was ghastly pale, but +his thin lips were set firmly together and his features rigid with +determination. It was the face of a brave, desperate man preparing to +meet some terrible danger. + +The carriage pulled up with a jerk and he leaped down into the road. He +did not speak to me, so, after a second's hesitation, I followed him and +stood by his side. There was no mistaking the sound which had alarmed +him. Behind, at no very great distance, was the sound of galloping horses +and the rumble of smoothly-turning wheels. + +Round the corner it came, a small brougham drawn by a pair of great +thoroughbred horses, whose heavy gallop, even at fifty yards' distance, +seemed to shake the ground beneath us. M. de Cartienne snatched one of +the carriage-lamps from the bracket and, stepping into the middle of the +road, waved it backwards and forwards over his head. His action had the +desired effect. + +Quivering and plunging with fear, the horses, bathed in foam and mud, +came to a standstill before us, and a tall, fair man, with a long fur +coat thrown hurriedly over his evening-clothes, leaped out into the road. +The Count was by his side in a moment. + +I remained a little apart, of course, out of earshot, but with my eyes +fixed upon the two men. + +They could scarcely have spoken a hundred words before their colloquy was +at an end. The new-comer returned to his carriage and M. de Cartienne +followed his example. I looked at him as he stepped in, anxious to see +what effect the other's news had had upon him. Apparently it was not so +bad as he had feared, for, although he still looked anxious and pale, his +face had lost its ghastly hue. + +We drove on in the same direction as before. When we had started he +turned to me. + +"Do you know what a police raid is?" he asked. + +I shook my head. + +"Well, I can't stop to explain," he went on rapidly. "Sir Fred--my friend +there, has just brought down word of some strange rumours about the clubs +to-night. It seems the police have got to hear of this place and are +going to pay it an uninvited visit. They won't be here for an hour, +though, so if you like just to come inside and see whether Marx is there +or not, you will have time." + +We had turned off the road into a bare, grass-grown avenue, leading up to +a red-brick house, unilluminated by a single light. + +We were barely a minute driving up this uninviting approach and +pulling up at the grim, closed door. The carriage had scarcely come +to a standstill before the Count was on the doorstep, fitting a +curiously-shaped key into the lock. It yielded at once and we both +stepped inside, followed by the man in the fur overcoat, whose carriage +had pulled up close behind ours. + +We were in perfect darkness and no one seemed to be stirring in the +house, although the mat under our feet, in some way connected with an +electric alarm bell, was giving shrill notice of our arrival. Then we +heard swift feet approaching and a tall, hard-featured woman in a plain +black gown, and holding a lamp high over her head, appeared before us. + +M. de Cartienne took her by the arm and led her on one side. The other +man, who was making vain attempts to appear at his ease and composed, +sank into a chair, palpably trembling. Of the real nature of the danger +which was imminent I could form only the slightest idea; but that it was +something very much to be feared I could easily gather from his agitation +and de Cartienne's manner. + +Suddenly the latter turned round. + +"Ackland," he said quickly to the man in the chair, eyeing him keenly and +with a shade of contempt in his tone, "you are not fit for any of the +serious work, I can see. Listen! Light up the club-room and the +smoke-room, stir up the fires, bring out the cards and wine-glasses, +empty some tobacco-ash about, make the place look habitable for us when +we come. Ferdinand is on the watch outside and will give you notice of +our visitors. Ring all three alarm-bells at once if he gives the signal. +Morton, I want you to wait for me. I'll send you away all right before +anything happens; but don't go unless you see me again--unless you're +frightened." + +He turned on his heel and, without waiting for any answer from either of +us, hurried away down the passage. The man whom he had called Ackland +rose from his seat and, striking a match, lighted the gas-brackets all +around the hall and the burners of a candelabra which hung from the roof. + +My companion then threw open a door and I followed him into a +luxuriously-appointed room, furnished with a suite of lounges and +easy-chairs corresponding with those in the hall. + +Whilst I was looking round, he hastily began moving the chairs about, as +though they had been recently used, poking the fire and generally making +the place look inhabited. Having done this, he crossed the hall and +entered the opposite room. It was a little smaller, but similarly +appointed and decorated, save that a long table, covered with a white +cloth and laid for dinner, stood in the centre, and a smaller one, with a +green baize covering at the further end. My companion threw a pack of +cards and some counters upon the latter and drew it closer up to the +fire. Then, having placed some chairs around it, he went back into the +hall again and I followed. + +All the while we had been moving about, strange noises had been going on +under our feet. Now and then the sound of hurrying footsteps and of +hoarse voices reached us, and, more often still, the steady rumbling of +heavy articles being moved about. I looked at my companion for an +explanation, but he did not seem inclined to offer one. + +"What's going on underneath?" I asked at last. + +"Bowls!" he answered curtly, "Don't talk, please, I want to listen!" + + + + + CHAPTER XLV. + A MYSTERIOUS COMMISSION. + + +The underground noises continued for about a quarter of an hour, during +which time my companion busied himself by removing from the club-room +various articles--the false top of a table marked out in a curious +fashion, several mahogany boxes, and other contrivances strange to me, +but presumably gambling appliances, with all of which he disappeared +through the door by which de Cartienne had made his exit, returning again +directly. + +At last everything was quiet, ominously quiet; then the door from the +hall was thrown suddenly open, and the Count entered, followed by four or +five other men. They were all apparently gentlemen, and in evening +clothes, but terribly soiled and disordered. Some were splashed with mud +from head to foot, some had their shirt-fronts blackened and crumpled, +and the hands of all of them were black with grease and dirt. All looked +more or less pale and nervous--in fact, M. de Cartienne was the only one +who thoroughly retained his composure. + +There was a lavatory on the other side of the staircase, towards which +the whole of the little party trooped, M. de Cartienne being the last. As +he disappeared he looked round and beckoned me to follow him. I did so +and stood by his side, while he plunged his head into some cold water, +and then began to wash his hands. + +"I'm sorry this should have happened to-night, Morton," he said. "Marx +was here, but has bolted in a fright." + +"Couldn't I catch him up?" I asked. + +de Cartienne shook his head. + +"No; he's in the train by this time. He comes here every night, though. +I'll bring you down to-morrow, perhaps." + +"Are you coming back now?" I asked. + +"No; I must see this thing through. You can go and at once, though. My +carriage will take you back. I shall return by train. By the by, there's +a small favour I want to ask you." + +"Certainly." + +"I have kept a few private papers here, which I should not care to have +examined should the search really take place. I want you to take them +back to the hotel for me. The box is a little too heavy for me to carry, +so I have told them to put it in the carriage as a footstool for you. You +won't mind that?" + +"Not in the least," I replied. "When shall I see you again?" + +"At the hotel some time to-morrow. Come along now," he added, putting on +his coat. + +He strolled with me to the front door and, throwing it open, listened +intently. + +There was no sound save the moaning of the wind in the bare trees which +stood by the side of the house and the patter of the fast-falling rain. I +stepped into the carriage and the Count came to the window to me. + +"Don't forget," he said, pointing to a long, oblong box secured by a +strong lock. "Draw the rug a little more over your knees--so." + +I obeyed him and let it hang down to hide the box, which I began to see +was his object. + +"And if you should meet anyone and they should be impertinent enough to +ask you where you are going, don't tell them. Give them your card and +tell them to go to the devil. If they are very pressing indeed, you must +tell a lie. Say that you've been to dine with Sir Sedgwick Bromley at +Hatherly Hall. Don't forget the name." + +"Very well. Are you coming back to the Metropole to-night?" I asked. + +"I think so. But if you don't mind I should be glad if you would have the +box taken up into your room and keep it for me. I shouldn't like anything +to happen to it." + +I promised, but without much alacrity. We shook hands and the carriage +drove off. + + + + + CHAPTER XLVI. + A BRUSH WITH THE POLICE. + + +We could scarcely have accomplished more than a mile of our homeward +journey when, with a sudden jerk which almost threw me forward, the +carriage was brought to a standstill. + +On the opposite side of the road were two carriages, or, rather, flys, +from one of which a tall, slim man was in the act of descending. Several +other men on horseback were just riding up from behind. They were all in +plain clothes, but something about their _physique_ and general +appearance had an unmistakable suggestion of police. + +The man who had been descending from the nearer of the two carriages +crossed the road and approached me. + +"Sorry to detain you, sir," he said, saluting in military fashion, "but I +must ask you your name and address and where you have been this evening." + +"I don't know whether it has occurred to you that your behaviour is +rather strange," I remarked, looking at him steadily, "not to say +impertinent! What the mischief do you mean by stopping my carriage in +this way on the high road and asking me questions like that? Who are +you?" + +He hesitated, and then answered with a little more respect in his manner. + +"I am deputy chief sergeant at Scotland Yard, sir, and these are my men. +We have a little business at a house not far from here, and our orders +are to detain and procure the names and addresses of all persons whom we +might encounter of whom we had reasonable suspicion that they had +recently left the house in question. You will not object to give me your +name, sir?" + +"Certainly not. My name is Philip Morton, and my general address is +Ravenor Castle, Leicestershire. At present I am staying at the Metropole +Hotel. Are you satisfied?" + +"Perfectly, sir," he answered, after one more rapid glance around the +carriage. "I see that you are not concerned in this affair. I wish you +good-night!" + +We drove rapidly off, and I began to feel not a little dissatisfied with +myself. The Count had no right to have mixed me up in this affair. + +In my ill-temper I gave the box, which lay concealed under my feet, a +savage kick, sufficient to have sent it flying to the other end of the +carriage. But there was a little surprise in store for me. To my +amazement the box remained perfectly immovable, just as though it had +been screwed into the bottom of the carriage. + +Forgetting the Count's earnest injunctions, I threw aside the rug and, +stooping down, tried to lift it by the handles. In those days I was proud +of my muscles, and not altogether without reason, but it needed all my +strength to lift that small box from the ground and hold it for a moment +in my arms. What could it contain? Papers, cards, gambling appliances? +Surely it could be none of these! The very idea was ridiculous! The Count +de Cartienne had deceived me. I had been made the catspaw of those pale, +anxious men who had watched me start so eagerly and scanned me over with +many furtive glances. What it was of which I was in charge, I could not +tell; but in that box lay their secret, and my first indignant impulse +was to open the carriage door and kick it out into the road. + +But are not second thoughts always better? Might not this affair shape +itself to my advantage? There need be no more obligations to the Count de +Cartienne. He was possessed of information which was valuable to me. I +was possessed of this box, which, without doubt, was invaluable to him. I +would propose an exchange--he should bring me face to face with Mr. Marx +and receive his precious box; or, if he refused to do so, its destination +should be Scotland Yard. A very equitable arrangement! + + + + + CHAPTER XLVII. + LIGHT AT LAST. + + +We were in London again, bowling smoothly along wide stretches of silent, +gas-lit streets, empty, and almost deserted now, for it was past two +o'clock. + +Soon we turned sharply into Northumberland Avenue, and pulled up at the +hotel. The man on the box--footman I suppose he was, although he was not +in livery--opened the carriage-door for me and then took possession of +the small trunk. + +"If you will allow me, sir, I will take this up to your room," he said. + +"You needn't trouble," I answered. "I can manage." + +He retained possession of it. + +"The Count's orders were, sir, that I should not allow the hotel servants +to meddle with it, and that, if possible, I should myself see it +deposited in your room. You have no objection, sir, I hope?" + +"Not at all," I answered, turning away. "In fact, the less I have to do +with it the better." + +We entered the hotel and, crossing the hall, rang for the lift. + +The lift came to a standstill at the third floor and we stepped out on to +the corridor. The Count's servant followed me to my room, deposited the +box on a chair at the foot of the bed and wished me good-night. + +I then got into bed and, full of excitement though the day had been for +me, slept soundly till morning. + +It was five minutes past nine when I entered the great salon of the hotel +and looked round for Lord Langerdale. + +My search was not a long one. He was sitting alone at a table laid for +three in one of the deep recesses, with a little pile of letters and a +newspaper before him. Directly he saw me he pushed them away and held out +his hand. + +"Good-morning!" he said pleasantly. "I'm glad to see you're so punctual. +You're not in a hurry for breakfast for a few minutes, are you?" + +"Not at all," I answered, taking the chair which he pushed towards me. + +"That's right. My wife will be down in a quarter of an hour, and we'll +wait for her, if you don't mind." + +I bowed my assent, murmuring that I should be delighted, which was +perfectly true. + +Lord Langerdale turned a little round in his chair so as to face me and +began at once: + +"I am rather a blunt sort of man, Mr. Morton--we Irish generally are, you +know--and I like to go straight at a thing. Will you tell me your +mother's maiden name?" + +"I would with pleasure if I knew it," I answered readily; "but I don't." + +"Is she alive?" + +I shook my head. + +"She died about nine months ago." + +"And Morton is your name? May I ask who your father was?" + +"Certainly. He was a farmer in Leicestershire." + +"A farmer?" Lord Langerdale looked surprised and I fancied a little +disappointed. "Was he your mother's first husband?" + +I was about to answer in the affirmative, but remembered that I had no +certain knowledge, so I corrected myself. + +"You may think it strange, Lord Langerdale," I said, "but I know nothing +of my mother's antecedents, nor of her family. From my earliest +recollection she never mentioned her past, nor permitted others to do so. +There was some mystery connected with it, I am sure; but what it was I +have no clue. + +"I could not help observing, as everyone else did, that she was far above +my father from a social point of view, for she was an educated lady and +he was only a small tenant farmer. Throughout all her life she was +reticent, and her last act before she died was a paradox. She left me to +the guardianship of the man whom she had always before seemed to dread +and fear." + +"What is his name?" + +"Mr. Ravenor, of Ravenor Castle. We were tenants of his." + +"My God!" + +Lord Langerdale's whole appearance was that of a man strongly agitated. +He turned his head away for a moment, and the long, white fingers which +supported it were shaking visibly. + +I, too, was moved, for it seemed as though the time were come at last +when something of my mother's history would be made known to me. But he +seemed in no hurry to speak again. It was I who had to remind him of my +presence. + +"Lord Langerdale," I cried, my voice, despite all my efforts, trembling +with eagerness, "you know who my mother was? You can tell me her +history?" + +He turned round slowly. + +"One more question," he said. "Are you sure that you were born at +Ravenor?" + +"I have never heard otherwise," I told him. "But when I asked my mother +once at which church I was christened, she could not tell me and forbade +me to ask again." + +Lord Langerdale looked puzzled for a moment, and then asked me my age, +which I told him. + +"Do you remember the time when news came of Mr. Ravenor, after he had +been supposed to have been dead for so long?" + +"Yes. It is about my earliest distinct recollection," I answered. + +"Do you remember how your mother received the news?" + +Yes, I remembered. Even at that moment a vision rose up before me. I saw +her standing beneath the ivy-covered porch of our farmhouse, her +beautiful face ghastly with sudden pallor, and her wild eyes riveted upon +my father's burly figure, as he shouted out the tidings. I described the +scene to Lord Langerdale. + +"And afterwards did she ever mention Mr. Ravenor's name to you? Did she +see anything of him?" he asked, when I had finished. + +Briefly I told him of her warnings, of my meeting with Mr. Ravenor, of +his proposal to adopt me, and of my mother's death, and how at the end +she suddenly turned round and left me to his guardianship. When I had +finished he laid his hand upon my arm. + +"Let us go upstairs to my rooms," he said kindly. "If my wife were to +come in now and learn the truth--and I'm a bad hand at keeping anything +back from her--I'm afraid the shock would be too much for her. Come with +me and I will tell you your mother's history." + +So I rose and followed him with beating heart. + + + + + CHAPTER XLVIII. + A PAGE OF HISTORY. + + +Lord Langerdale's suite of apartments was on the second floor, and when +we reached them it was no small relief to me to find the room into which +we turned empty. I sank mechanically into the chair to which he pointed, +whilst he himself remained standing a few feet away from me. + +"From what you have told me," he said gravely, "I have not the least +doubt but that my wife and your mother were sisters." + +I gave a little gasp and began to wonder whether this was not all a wild +dream. Lord Langerdale remained silent, whilst I recovered myself in some +measure. + +"Will you tell me about it?" I asked slowly. "I don't understand." + +"I will tell you everything," Lord Langerdale said kindly. "This is a +great surprise to you, of course, and quite as great a one to me. Here is +the story--or, rather, as much as I know of it." + +He cleared his throat and took a chair by my side. Everything else in the +room except his face was blurred and indistinct, and his voice seemed to +come to me from a long distance. But every word he uttered sank into my +heart. + +"Your grandfather was a very poor and very proud English baronet--Sir +Arthur Montavon. My wife Elsie and your mother were his only children, +and they were twins. They were presented at Court together, created an +equal sensation, and were at once allowed to be the beauties of the +season. This was the time when I first knew them, so it is here that I +begin my tale. + +"Six months after their appearance in Society, Elsie was engaged to be +married to me. But your mother seemed to be more difficult to please. She +refused several very good offers, and at the end of her first season she +was still free. + +"I don't know exactly how or where she first met him," Lord Langerdale +continued slowly; "but before the following spring your mother was +betrothed to the Count de Cartienne. At that time he was one of the +richest, the best-looking, and most popular men about town. There seemed +to be nothing which he could not do, no art in which he was not +proficient, and he was passionately in love with your mother. Whether she +ever really cared for him I cannot tell; but if she did, it could only +have been a very transitory feeling. + +"The marriage-day was fixed and was a general topic of conversation. I +even believe that your mother had begun to prepare her trousseau, when +something happened. Count de Cartienne was deposed from his post of chief +favourite in Society, which he at one time held, by a younger and more +extraordinary man. That man was----" + +"Mr. Ravenor!" I exclaimed. + +Lord Langerdale nodded. + +"I don't think," he went on, "that you can possibly imagine from the Mr. +Ravenor of to-day what he was when he became the rage of London Society. +He had just returned from his first journey in the East, after some +perilous adventures, which had filled the columns of the newspapers for +weeks and had already created a strong curiosity about him. I met him, I +think, on the first evening he entered a London drawing-room, and I will +never forget it. + +"He was as handsome as a Greek god, with limbs magnificently developed by +his hardy, vigorous life and rigid asceticism, with the head of a Byron, +the manners of a Grandison, and the fire and eloquence of a Burke, when +he chose to open his mouth. + +"Men and women alike were fascinated, which was all the more remarkable +as he sought no intimate amongst the former, and studiously avoided +compromising himself with any of the latter, although, Heaven knows, he +had no lack of opportunity. The only man with whom he seemed to be on at +all friendly terms was de Cartienne; and the only woman to whom he paid +any save the most ordinary attention was your mother." + +Lord Langerdale paused for several moments and seemed wrapped in a brown +study, from which my impatience aroused him. He continued at once: + +"Things went on smoothly for a time, and then rumours began to get about. +At first there were only faint whispers, but presently people began to +talk openly. Count de Cartienne had better beware, they said, or he would +lose his bride. At first he treated all such suggestions with contempt, +but the time came when he was forced to consider them seriously. + +"Mr. Ravenor published a small volume of poems anonymously, amongst which +were some passionate love-sonnets addressed to A. M. Everyone was talking +of the book and wondering who the new poet was, when, through some +treachery in the publisher's office, the secret leaked out, and everyone +then knew that those thrilling love-songs were addressed to Alice +Montavon. + +"de Cartienne went straight to Mr. Ravenor and demanded an explanation. +Mr. Ravenor acknowledged the authorship of the poems, and did not deny +that the verses in question were addressed to your mother; further than +that he would not say a word, and simply referred de Cartienne to her. + +"He went straight to her, poor fellow! and was met with a piteous +entreaty that he would release her from her engagement. She loved Mr. +Ravenor and could marry no one else. What followed remains to some extent +a secret; but this much we know: + +"There was a furious scene between de Cartienne and your mother, which +ended in his refusing to give her up and threatening to shoot his rival +if ever he saw them together again. Sir Arthur Montavon, who was deeply +in de Cartienne's debt, swore that the marriage should take place, and +apparently they gained their end, for Mr. Ravenor suddenly disappeared, +and it was reported that he had left the country. On the very day before +the wedding, however, Society was furnished with a still more sensational +piece of scandal; your mother left her home secretly and the companion of +her flight was Mr. Ravenor!" + +I could sit still no longer, but rose and walked up and down the room +with quick, unsteady strides. Lord Langerdale watched me with a great and +growing pity in his honest face. There was silence between us for several +minutes, during which, after one keen, restless look of inquiry, I kept +my face turned away from his. Then he continued his story in a somewhat +lower key: + +"For two days de Cartienne was virtually a maniac. Then he seemed +suddenly to come to his senses, and I think we all--Elsie and I +especially--dreaded his terrible, set calmness more even than his +previous fury. He made no wild threats, nor did he talk to anyone of his +intentions. But we all knew what they were; and when he left London, +secretly and alone, we trembled, for we knew that he was going in search +of your mother. He needed no help, for he was himself a born detective, +and possessed in a marvellous degree the art of disguising himself. + +"Every day we searched the newspapers anxiously, dreading lest we should +read of the tragedy which we feared was inevitable. But we heard nothing. +The weeks crept on into months and the months to years and still we heard +nothing--not even from your mother. + +"We advertised, made every possible form of inquiry, but in vain. Then +came the news of Mr. Ravenor's shipwreck and supposed death, and we +concluded that your mother had perished with him. I accepted a foreign +appointment, and only returned to England, after ten years' absence, last +week. I heard at once of Mr. Ravenor's marvellous return to life and I +wrote to him. The only reply I received was a single sentence: + +"'You can tell your wife that her sister is dead. I have no more to say.' + +"Only yesterday, to my amazement, I met de Cartienne again, and with him, +you, who, I felt sure from the beginning, must be Alice's son. It may +seem strange to you that I should know so much and yet know no more. But +it is so." + +I turned round and faced him slowly. + +"Do you mean to say, then, that after her elopement my mother never once +communicated with her father or sister?" + +"Only in this way. She left a private message for my wife, telling her +through whom to forward a letter, but not disclosing her whereabouts. Sir +Arthur Montavon intercepted the message and took advantage of it to write +a cruel, stern letter, forbidding her ever to appear in his presence +again, or to address him or her sister; and I am sorry to say that, at +his command, my wife, too, wrote in a censorious vein, hoping to make up +for it by sending another letter a few days afterwards. The first letter +your mother received; the second missed her. She inherited a good deal of +her father's firmness, almost severity, of disposition, and I have no +doubt that the receipt of those letters would lead her to cut herself off +altogether from her family." + +"Then you do not even know where she and Mr. Ravenor were married?" I +asked huskily. + +Lord Langerdale shook his head, and I noticed that he failed to look me +in the face. I braced myself up with a great effort. + +"Lord Langerdale," I said quietly, "this is a matter of life or death to +me. You seem to avoid my question. Answer me this: Have you any reason to +suppose that--that there was no marriage?" + +"None at all," he answered quickly. "But, my dear boy," he went on, +coming over to my side and resting his hand upon my shoulder, "it is +always as well to be prepared for the worst. I will tell you how it has +seemed to me sometimes. Mr. Ravenor had very peculiar views with regard +to marriage, something similar to those Shelley held in his youth, and we +never heard of any ceremony, which seems strange. Then, too, their +separation and your mother's marriage to a farmer, her stern, lonely life +afterwards, and the fact that your birth has been kept concealed from +you----" + +He hesitated and seemed to gather encouragement from my face. I could +not, I would not, for a moment share his fear when I thought steadfastly +about it. I thought of my mother dying, with a saint-like peace upon her +face, in Mr. Ravenor's arms. I thought of the calm, sorrowful dignity of +her life, and the idea refused for a moment to linger in my mind. Some +other great cause for estrangement there must have been between them, but +not that--not that! + +"I will go down and see Ravenor to-day," Lord Langerdale declared, with +sudden energy. "I will wrest the truth from him." + +I shook my head. + +"This matter lies between him and me only," I said, in a low tone. "I +will go to him." + +The handle of the door was softly turned and Lady Langerdale stood upon +the threshold. Her husband went over to her at once. + +"Elsie," he said, "you were right. There are many things which yet remain +in darkness; but this is Alice's boy--your sister's son." + +She came up to me with outstretched hands and a wistful look in her +sweet, womanly face. + +My heart stood still for a moment, and then gave a great throb as I felt +the warm clasp of her hands and the tremulous touch of her lips upon my +forehead. + +I knew that I had reached a crisis in my life, and though it had brought +with it a great fear, it had also brought a great joy, for it seemed as +though the days of my loneliness were over. + +Could I doubt it when I looked into Lady Langerdale's face and felt my +uncle's warm hand-clasp? There was a sweetness about such a thought hard +for another to realise, and for a moment I gave myself up to it. Whilst +Lord Langerdale briefly told his wife the few particulars which I had +been able to give him of my mother and myself, I stood between the two, +keenly conscious of and enjoying the change which seemed hovering over my +life. + +But afterwards I remembered the ordeal which I had yet to face and the +mission which had brought me to London, and they saw the gladness die +slowly out of my face. + +Lord Langerdale questioned me concerning it, and then I told them +everything--told them of our suspicions in connection with Mr. Marx and +of my determination to find him out, and discover whether he had been +guilty of foul play towards the man Hart. + +When I came to my last night's adventure with Count de Cartienne, Lord +Langerdale looked very grave. + +"It seems to me," he declared, "that this is more a matter for the police +than for you to mix yourself up in." + +I shook my head. Of one thing I did feel confident, although, as regards +the whole of the rest of the affair, I was in a complete maze. + +However anxious Mr. Ravenor might be for the truth concerning the missing +man to be discovered, he had strong reasons for not wishing the police to +take part in the search. I felt sure of that, and was determined to act +accordingly. + +Lord Langerdale was not easily reassured. + +"I don't like the idea of your having anything whatever to do with de +Cartienne in all the circumstances," he said, with a shudder. "He can +have but one feeling for you, and a more dangerous man does not breathe. +It is an evil chance that has brought you together." + + + + + CHAPTER XLIX. + I WILL GO ALONE. + + +We all sat down to breakfast together. Lord Langerdale divided his +attention between his breakfast and _The Times_. + +"Are you going shopping to-day, Elsie?" he asked, looking up from his +paper. + +She glanced at him inquiringly. + +"I think so. Why?" + +"Be very careful about your change, then. There has never been so much +bad money about as just now. The papers are full of the most startling +rumours. Coining must be going on in London somewhere upon an enormous +scale, and the police are---- Why, Philip, what's the matter with you?" + +I recovered myself promptly and set down the cup which I had been within +an ace of spilling. + +"The coffee was a little hot," I said slowly. "It was very stupid of me." + +He went on reading and Lady Langerdale began to talk to me. But my +attention was wandering. It was a strange idea which had occurred to me, +perhaps a ridiculous one. Yet it was possessed of a certain fascination. + +In the middle of breakfast a waiter brought me a note. Lady Langerdale's +permission was given unasked and I tore it open. It was from de +Cartienne, and the contents, though brief, were to the point: + + "My dear Morton,--I have seen the man whom you are seeking and I know + for certain where he will be to-morrow night. My carriage shall call + for you at ten o'clock in the evening--to-morrow, mind; not this + evening--and if you care to come I will bring you to him. By the by, + you might as well bring with you the box which you were good enough to + take care of--Yours, + + "E. de C." + +I handed it to Lord Langerdale, who adjusted his glasses and read it +through carefully. + +"I don't like it," he remarked, when he had finished; "don't like it at +all. Take my advice, Philip; send him his box, or whatever it is, and +don't go." + +I shook my head. + +"I must find out about Mr. Marx," I answered, "and I know of no other +means. That will be to-morrow night, you know. To-day----" + +"Yes, what are we going to do to-day?" Lord Langerdale interrupted. + +I answered him without hesitation: + +"I am going down to Ravenor Castle." + +He looked surprised, a little agitated. + +"I shall go with you," Lord Langerdale suddenly declared. "Alice was my +sister-in-law, and if Ravenor deserted or ill-used her, I have the right +to call him to account for it." + +"And I a better one," I reminded him quietly. "Grant me this favour +please. I must go alone and see him--alone." + +He looked at his wife and she inclined her head towards me. + +"The boy is right," she said softly. "It is his affair, not ours. It will +be better for him to go alone." + + + + + CHAPTER L. + I MEET MY FATHER. + + +After a wearying journey I stood at last before the great gates of the +castle, the bell at my feet giving shrill notice of my presence. The +lodge-keeper hurried out and welcomed me. + +I walked swiftly up the winding ascent, straight across the flagged +courtyard and entered the castle by a side-door. Then, heedless of the +surprised looks of the servants, I made my way to the library, and +knocking softly at the door of the inner room, entered. + +At first it seemed to me that he was not there, for the chamber was in +semi-darkness. The heavily-shaded lamp which stood upon the writing-table +was turned down so low as to afford no light at all, and the fitful glow +of the firelight left the greater part of the room in shadow. But as I +stood upon the threshold a burning coal dropped upon the hearth, and by +its flame I saw him leaning back in a high oak chair a few feet away. + +Softly I moved across the room towards him and then I saw that he was +asleep. + +I made no movement, but somehow he seemed to become conscious of my +presence and opened his eyes. They fell upon me standing on the +hearth-rug before him, and he sat up with a start. + +"Philip!" he cried, "you here? You back? You have found him, then?" + +At the sound of his voice I trembled, yet I answered him at once: + +"Not yet. To-morrow night I shall see him. Till then I could do +nothing--and I came here." He looked at my mud-bespattered boots and +wind-tossed hair. + +"You have walked from Mellborough?" he asked. Then something in my face +seemed to strike him, and, leaning forward, he placed his hands upon my +shoulders and turned towards the glow of the fire. + +"You have come with a purpose!" he said slowly. "Tell me--you have heard +something in London?" + +I bowed my head silently. + +"Some story of the past--my past?" + +"Yes." + +"My God!" + +Then there was silence between us. I bore it till I could bear it no +longer. + +"Can you wonder that I have come?" I cried, my voice shaking with a +passion which I knew no longer how to restrain. "Oh, speak to me! Tell me +whether this thing is true?" + +"It is true." + +He had drawn back a little; he had hesitated. I caught hold of his hands +and drew him towards me. + +"My father," I cried passionately, "speak to me! Why do you draw away? Is +it because--because--oh, only speak to me, call me your son, and if there +be anything to forgive I will forgive it." + +He seemed suddenly to abandon an unnatural struggle and caught me by the +hands and clasped them. For a moment his face was radiant. + +"Philip, my son, my dear son!" he cried. "Thank God, it is not that! +Thank God, that my name is yours! You are indeed my son." + +After a considerable silence my father told me how he had met Marx +abroad. He had done him some service and they had become friendly. He +latterly engaged him as secretary. + +Then he went on to tell me how Marx had met him on his return after his +long absence and had taken him to see his wife, who believed him dead. + +He then told me how he had found her married again to Farmer Morton and +implored her to come back to him. She refused, and he, in a blind fury, +rushed back to where he had left Marx. + +He was attacked by Morton; a struggle ensued on the brink of the +slate-pit. After a time my father managed to fling Morton from him and +fled. + +That night Marx came to him and told him he had thrown Morton into the +quarry, and that a man named Hart, _alias_ Francis, had witnessed the +deed. My father wanted to confess, but Marx persuaded him to keep silent +and paid Francis to bear the crime. + +"Now you know why I shrank from calling you my son, knowing that when the +time came for you to be told of your parentage, I must also tell you that +your father was a murderer!" + +"It is false!" I cried, springing up and seizing both his hands. "It was +an accident. No one could call it a murder. Oh, my father, my father, +that you should have suffered like this for so slight a cause!" + +A light leaped into his face and for a moment his wasted features and +sunken eyes glowed and shone with a great, unexpected happiness. He drew +me gently to him and laid his hands upon my shoulders. + +"Thank God for this, Philip!" he said, with trembling voice. "It is +greater consolation than I ever dared hope for in this world." + + + + + CHAPTER LI. + DAWN. + + +On the morrow as we walked out together, my father and I, making our way +as though by common consent up towards the bare brown hills, I remembered +that there were many things which I wished to say to him. + +"I want to ask you about Mr. Marx, father," I began. "Everything +concerning him is so utterly mysterious, especially his going away so +suddenly. Apart from the fear of his having used some sort of foul play +towards Hart--or Francis--I can't help thinking that there is something +else wrong with him. You trust him thoroughly, I suppose?" I added +hesitatingly. + +"I have always done so," my father answered quietly. + +"Do you like the man himself?" I asked. + +My father shrugged his shoulders indifferently. + +"I cannot say that he has ever aroused my feelings in any way," he +answered. "He has had work to do for me and has done it well and +silently. I have looked upon him somewhat as an automaton, although a +valuable one. And yet----" he added musingly. + +"Yet what?" I interrupted. + +"Well, sometimes I have half fancied that he was playing a part, that his +interest in our work was a little strained. He gave me the idea of a man +working steadily forward towards a set purpose, and I have never seemed +able to reconcile that purpose with the completion of our task. His +sudden absences, too--for this is not the first of them,--are strange." + +"I should think so," I assented. "Has he taken anything away with him +this time?" I asked bluntly. + +A very grave look came into my father's face and he did not answer me at +once. When he did so his tone was low and anxious. + +"Yes, he has. About a fortnight ago we came to the end, virtually, of our +long task. There was only a little revision wanted, which he was to have +left for me. The night that he disappeared the manuscript disappeared +also. Evidently he took it away with him." + +"Perhaps he has taken it to the publishers," I suggested. My father shook +his head doubtfully. + +"Only this morning I have heard from them, begging me to forward it +without delay," he said. + +I was silent. Even if he had taken the manuscript, what use could he make +of it? How could it profit him? + +Suddenly I stood still in the path. My heart gave a great leap and a cry +broke from my lips. For the first time an idea, the vague phantom of an +idea, swept in upon me, carrying all before it, and casting a brilliant, +lurid light upon all that seemed so dark and mysterious. + +"This man, Marx," I cried, seizing my father's arm. "Tell me quickly. Has +he ever reminded you of anyone?" + +My father looked at me wonderingly. + +"It is strange that you should ask that," he said. "Sometimes, especially +when I have come upon him alone, or have seen him excited, his tone and +little mannerisms have seemed somehow vaguely familiar. And yet," he +added thoughtfully, "I have never been able to recall of whom they have +reminded me." + +I opened my trembling lips to speak, but a wave of cold doubt swept in +upon me. Surely this thing could not be! I must be mad to let the idea +linger for a moment in my mind. And yet---- + +At that moment of my hesitation, my father's hand fell heavily upon my +arm. He pointed forward along the dark avenue with a shaking finger. In +the dim twilight we could see the tall gaunt figure of a man in ragged +clothes, making his way up to the castle. + +"That is not one of my men, Philip," he said hoarsely. "Who is it?" + +I shook my head. + +"It is a stranger." + +My father turned abruptly from the avenue into a side-walk. + +"Follow me," he said; "we will go in by the private way." + +We walked across the turf, through a little iron gate, which my father +unlocked, and entered the shrubbery walk. + +Once I looked round through an opening in the laurel leaves. The stranger +was leaning wearily against the railings round the lodge, waiting for +admittance. + + + + + CHAPTER LII. + WHERE IS MR. MARX? + + +Not until we had reached the Castle and were in the library did my father +speak to me. Then his words were grave enough. + +"We have done Mr. Marx an injury, Philip," he said slowly. + +"How?" I asked. + +"Listen, and you will know." + +He went to the telephone and signalled. The answer came at once. + +"Someone has been asking for me at the gate," he said. "Who is it?" + +"A stranger, sir, to see you." + +"What name?" + +"Hart, sir." + +"Is he waiting?" + +"Yes, sir. I told him that it would be useless, but he refuses to go +away." + +"You can pass him. Send him here at once." + +My father turned away and looked at me with all the old weariness in his +face, but with little agitation. Of the two, I was the more nervous. I +crossed the room and laid my hand gently upon his shoulder. + +"Thank God that I am here with you! What shall you say to him, father? +What does he want, think you? Money?" + +My father shook his head sadly. + +"He would send if that were all. He has what he wants and that is not +much. I fear that he wants something else." + +"What?" + +"His good name cleared." + +"He took the guilt willingly," I cried. "He must bear it now. He cannot +escape from it." + +"He can," my father answered. "He can tell the truth." + +"No one would believe him. It would be his word against yours. What +chance would he have?" + +My father turned a stern, dark face upon me. + +"So you think that I would swear to a lie, Philip? No! There was always +this risk. I have felt that if ever he should demand to be set right with +the world, it must be done." + +"It shall be done." + +We started, for the words came from the other side of the room. Standing +in the deep shadows just inside the door was a tall, gaunt man, with long +dishevelled beard and pale, ghastly face. His clothes were ragged and +weather-stained and his boots were thick with mud. I looked towards him +fascinated. It was the face of the lunatic who had twice attempted Mr. +Marx's life. It was Hart, _alias_ Francis, the man who held in his hands +a life dearer to me than my own. + +"Is it really you, Francis?" my father asked, in a shocked tone. "You are +altered. You have been ill. Sit down." + +He took no notice. Whilst my father had been speaking his eyes had been +wandering restlessly round the room. + +"Where is--he?" he asked hoarsely. + +"Do you mean Mr. Marx?" I said. + +"Yes." + +"He is in London." + +"Ah!" + +There was an expression in his face partly of disappointment, partly of +relief. He drew a long breath and remained silent, as though waiting to +be questioned. + +"Do you want money?" my father asked. + +"No." + +"Do you want to give up your secret, to let the world know the truth?" + +"Yes." + +A cry burst from my lips, but my father checked me. + +"It is well," he said. "Sit down. You need not fear; I will confess." + +"You have nothing to confess. It is I who must do that." + +"What do you mean?" my father asked, peering forward into the darkness, +for there was no lamp lit in the room. "Come nearer; I cannot see your +face." + +With trembling fingers I drew up the blind from the high window. The +moon, which had just emerged from a bank of black, flying clouds, cast a +long stream of light across the room. + +Francis moved forward with slow, reluctant steps. Then, with a sudden, +wild cry, he threw himself upon his knees before my father. + +"As God in Heaven forgives, swear that you will forgive me!" he cried +passionately. + +"Forgive! I have nothing to forgive," my father answered gently. "You +wish to lay down your burden. Good! I am ready to take it up." + +He stooped forward in his chair and stretched out his hand to the man to +help him rise. In his altered position the moonlight seemed to cast a +sort of halo round his face, and it seemed to me like the face of an +angel. + +"Don't touch me," cried the man; "don't. I can't bear it! Let me tell you +the truth, or I shall die. You think that you killed Farmer Morton. It's +false! Mr. Marx killed him." + +"What!" + +My father had sprung to his feet. Somehow, I found myself by his side. +Francis still grovelled on the floor. + +"Up, man, and tell me all the truth," my father cried out in a voice of +thunder; "up on your feet and speak like a man." + +He obeyed at once, trembling in every limb. Then he faltered out his +story: + +"I was in the wood that night. It was dark; I lost my way. Suddenly I +heard voices--yours and Morton's. You were struggling within a few feet +of me. Before I could interfere you had thrown him down and rushed away. +I heard him breathing hard, and I saw Mr. Marx steal out from behind a +tree and creep up to him. Morton heard, too, and sprang up. They +struggled together; perhaps in the darkness, Morton mistook him for you. +I remembered the quarry and rushed out. I was too late. + +"There was a fearful flash of lightning and I saw Marx put forth all his +strength and throw the other into the slate-pit. He turned round and saw +me. + +"He would have hurled me over, too, if he had dared, but I was strong and +he was exhausted. So he offered me money to go away. I accepted, never +thinking that they would fix the crime upon me. Marx had thought it all +out with a devilish cunning. He provided me with disguises and told me +where to go to and how to get there. When I was safe away and read the +papers, I saw at once how I had been trapped. I had pleaded guilty to the +murder. + +"Time went on and I grew more miserable every day. Marx sent me plenty of +money--too much. I began to drink. I was ill. When I recovered I wrote to +tell him that I could bear it no longer and that I was coming to see him. +I told him that I meant to go to a magistrate after I had given him time +to get out of the country. He dared me to come to the Castle. Still, I +came. It was dusk when I got here. He met me in the avenue. He offered me +large sums of money to go away, but I was determined and refused +everything. It was then from something he let fall in his anger that I +knew how he had been deceiving you. Then I would not listen to him any +more and bade him stand out of the way. He let me pass him and then +struck me on the back of the head with some heavy weapon." + +"My God!" I cried. "I was close to you. I heard you cry and I met Mr. +Marx directly afterwards. He must have thrown you down the gravel-pit." + +"It was there I found myself when I came to my senses," Francis +continued. "Directly I sat up and tried to think over what had happened I +began to feel my head swim. After that everything is blurred and dim in +my mind. I fled. The second time, you, Mr. Morton, saved his life from +me, as my fingers were closing upon his throat. + +"They put me in an asylum. Afterwards Mr. Marx passed himself off as my +brother and had me moved into a private one. The commissioners came and I +appeared before them. I was sane. They let me go. Where is Mr. Marx? +Where is Mr. Marx?" + +There was a deep silence. Then I held out my hand to my father and he +clasped it. + +"Thank God!" I cried, my voice quivering with a great sob--"thank God!" + +"Amen," my father repeated softly. + +Again that question, in the same dry, hard tone. + +"Where is Mr. Marx?" + +We looked at him--at his nervously twitching hands and burning eyes. The +madness was upon him again. We must not let him go. My father drew me on +one side. + +"I shall go to London with you to-night," he said. "What shall we do with +this man?" + +"He must stay here," I answered. "Leave it to me." + +I went up to him and laid my hand upon his shoulder. + +"Listen, Francis," I said. "There are two places where Mr. Marx is likely +to be this week. One is in London, the other here. Do you understand?" + +"Yes," he answered; "I understand." + +"Now, Mr. Ravenor and I know best where to find him in London, but we +can't leave unless we know that there is someone on the look-out here as +well. If we go to London, will you remain here and watch for him?" + +The man's eyes sparkled. + +"Yes," he answered quickly. "This is the room where he writes, isn't it? +He will come here. Yes, I will wait; I will watch here in this room." + +My father rang a bell and ordered a carriage to take us to the station. +Then he gave special orders about Francis. He was to be allowed to remain +in the library, to use Mr. Ravenor's own sleeping apartment, and to have +meals brought to him regularly. + +An hour later we left the castle for Torchester. As we drove across the +courtyard we could see a pale, gaunt figure standing at the library +window, silent and rigid. It was Francis, waiting. + + + + + CHAPTER LIII. + MESSRS. HIGGENSON AND CO. + + +At ten o'clock we reached St. Pancras, travelling by fast train from +Torchester, and half an hour later a hansom put us down at the Hotel +Metropole. Immediately in front of the entrance Count de Cartienne's +small brougham was waiting, and as we descended from the cab his servant +stepped forward and handed me a note. I tore it open and read it under +the gas-lamp. + +"Come to me at once and you will find Mr. M----. Bring the box with +you.--C----." + +I passed the note on to my father and drew him a little on one side. At +the sight of the handwriting he started. + +"Philip, whose writing is this?" he asked quickly. + +"The writing of the man who alone knows where Marx is," I answered. "It +is he who calls for his letters and forwards them." + +"His name? I insist upon knowing his name." + +"de Cartienne." + +My father's face turned a shade paler and his eyebrows contracted. + +"You have been keeping this from me, Philip. You shall not go near that +man. I forbid it. My God! Marx and de Cartienne friends!" + +He stopped short on the pavement and looked at me with a new light in his +face. He began to understand. + +"Marx and de Cartienne," he repeated slowly. "Philip, cannot you see what +this means? Marx has been de Cartienne's tool and I have been their +victim. Where is de Cartienne? Philip, you shall tell me! Do you hear?" + +My father seized my arm and held it fast. I turned and faced him. + +"Father, you must leave this to me," I said, firmly. "I have thought it +all over in the train and my plans are made. You will trust me?" + +"Tell me what they are," he said. + +"I have in my possession a box belonging to de Cartienne, which contains +a secret. Until I yield that box up to him I am safe, since he can only +get it from me. You see that he tells me in this note to bring it with +me." + +"Yes. Go on." + +"Well, I am going without the box, and if he is really ignorant of who I +am and willing to give me the information about Marx, why, then I can +easily come back for it, and whatever it contains he must have unopened. + +"If, on the other hand, I fall into any sort of trap and he makes me send +for it, then, immediately on receipt of my message, no matter how it is +couched, you must force the box open, and if it contains anything in the +least suspicious, come straight to my aid with the police. The messenger +who comes for the box must be bribed or frightened into bringing you." + +"I do not like it, Philip. It is all too roundabout. If de Cartienne has +any idea who you are, you are running a risk." + +"I don't think so," I answered. "Until he gets possession of that box he +will feel himself, to a certain extent, in my hands and will not be +likely to do me an injury." + +"What do you suppose the box contains?" + +I hesitated and looked around. de Cartienne's servant was some distance +off and there was no one within hearing. + +"Have you read the newspapers just lately?" I asked. + +My father shook his head. + +"Only the literary newspapers." + +I bought a special edition, which a newsboy was brandishing in our faces, +and, turning down the leading article, passed it on to my father. He +glanced down at it and then looked up at me in blank amazement. + +"Philip, you cannot mean this!" he exclaimed. + +"Why not?" I answered. "I do, indeed; but whether there is anything in it +or not we shall soon know. I must go now. You understand what to do if I +send for the box." + +"I don't like your expedition at all," he said, doubtfully. "Have you any +idea where you are going?" + +I shook my head. + +"None; but I shall come to no harm. My star is in the ascendant now. If +it leads me into danger it will bring me safely out of it. _Au revoir!_" + +Then I sprang into the carriage and was driven swiftly away. + +Our journey came to a sudden end, and, if I was surprised at the locality +into which it had brought me, I was still more so at its termination. The +carriage had stopped outside a gloomy-looking warehouse, the back of +which, ornamented with several cranes, overlooked the river. The whole of +the front appeared to be in darkness, but from a gas-lamp on the other +side of the narrow way I could read the brass sign-plate by the side of +the door: + + HIGGENSON AND CO. + Merchants and Exporters. + +The door of the carriage was thrown open and I was evidently expected to +descend. I did so after a moment's hesitation. + +"Are you sure that you have brought me to the right place?" I asked the +man who held the door open. "This seems to be a warehouse. I think there +must be some mistake." + +The man silently closed the carriage door and stepped up to his seat +beside the driver. + +"There is no mistake," he said curtly. "You will find the Count de +Cartienne--there." + +He pointed to the warehouse door and I saw that it was now open and that +a man was standing upon the threshold. I turned towards him doubtfully. + +"Will you come this way, Mr. Morton?" he said. "Count de Cartienne is +sorry to have to bring you here, but we are busy--very busy, and he had +no time to get back to the hotel. The carriage will wait to take you +back." + +The man's manner and tone were certainly not those of a servant, but from +the position in which he stood I could see nothing save the bare outline +of his figure. I crossed the pavement towards him. + +We left the room and he conducted me down a passage and into a small +chamber. Here my companion paused and lit a lamp which stood on a table +in the middle of the room. + +"Count de Cartienne will be with you in a moment," he said, walking to +the door. "Kindly excuse me." + +I turned the lamp a little higher and looked around. The room was quite a +small one and plainly furnished as a waiting-room. + +For the first time I began to realise fully what I had done in coming to +this place at such an hour. Some wild thoughts of a tardy retreat flashed +into my mind, and I tried the handle of the door by which we had entered. +It turned, but the door remained closed. I stooped down and examined it. +The result was as I had feared--a spring lock had fastened it. I tried +the other door, by which my guide had issued. The result was the same. I +was a prisoner. + +I had scarcely time to realise my position before it became necessary to +act. The door was suddenly opened and Count de Cartienne stood before me, +his eyes flashing with anger and his tall, lithe frame quivering with +rage. + +"Why have you not brought that box?" he exclaimed in a low, fierce tone. + +I stood up facing him, with my back to the table, striving to keep calm, +for the situation was critical. The complete change in his appearance and +manner towards me was sufficient warning. + +"The box is safe enough," I answered. "You can have it in an hour's time. +But----" + +"But what?" he interrupted, savagely. "Why have you not brought it, as I +bade you in my note? Why is it not here? We want it at once!" + +"You forget that there is a _quid pro quo_ which I expect from you. It +seems to me, Count de Cartienne, that you are making a tool of me, +and----" + +"What is it you want--to see this man Marx?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, he is not here." + +I checked the rejoinder which, had I spoken it, would probably have cost +me my life. + +"Where is he, then?" I asked. + +"I will tell you when you have written for that box," he said, opening a +drawer and placing pen and paper upon the table. + +I shook my head. "There is no need for me to write. It is of no use my +remaining if Mr. Marx is not here. Send your servant back with me and I +will give it him." + +"No, I shall hold you as a hostage for the box. Besides, I have a few +words to say to you, boy," he added grimly. "Write." + +I hesitated, but only for a moment. + +"Do I understand that you detain me here against my will?" I said, +slowly. + +"Understand anything you please, but write." + +I took up the pen without another word. When I had finished the note he +took it from me and read it through. Then he glanced at the address and +started. + +"Mr. Ravenor! Oh, Mr. Ravenor is in London, is he?" he remarked slowly. + +"Yes." + +He looked away with the ghost of an evil smile upon his lips. + +"Ravenor in London! How strange. He and I are old acquaintances. I must +call on him," he added mockingly. + +He stood still for a moment and then left the room abruptly with the note +in his hand. I tried to follow him, but the door closed too quickly. If I +could have seen any means of escape I should have made use of them, for I +had gained the knowledge which I had come to seek, and I knew that I was +in danger. There was only that solitary window looking out upon the river +and the closed door. If this man meant mischief, I was securely in his +power. + + + + + CHAPTER LIV. + A RAID. + + +In a few minutes Count de Cartienne returned: + +He flashed a sudden keen glance at me. + +"I wonder if you have any idea as to the contents of that box," he said, +keeping his eyes fixed curiously upon me. + +Looking back now, I see clearly that I was guilty of the grossest folly +in answering as I did. But I was young, impetuous, conscious of great +physical strength, and with all that contempt of danger which such +consciousness brings. So, without hesitation, I drew from my pocket the +evening paper which I had bought in Northumberland Avenue, and laid my +finger upon the column which I had shown my father. + +"This may have something to do with it," I remarked. + +His face grew a shade paler as he glanced it through. Then he folded it +up and handed it back to me with a polite gesture. + +"So that is your idea, is it?" he remarked. "Why didn't you go to +Scotland Yard and tell them of your suspicions?" + +I felt that he was watching me keenly and made a great effort to remain +composed, although my pulses were beating fast and I felt my colour +rising. + +"It was no business of mine," I answered. "Besides, if I had done so I +should have lost my chance of finding out anything about Mr. Marx from +you." + +"Your reasoning does you infinite credit," he answered, with a slight +sneer. "You are quite a Machiavelli. Come; I want to show you over +my--warehouse." + +I followed him reluctantly, for I liked his manner less and less; but I +had scarcely an alternative. + +We passed along a narrow passage and through several rooms piled up to +the ceiling with huge bales; then we descended a winding flight of iron +steps, and as we reached the bottom I began to hear a faint hum of voices +and strange, muffled sounds. + +He unlocked a small, hidden door before us, and we stood on the threshold +of a large, dimly-lit cellar. + +One swift glance around showed me the truth of my vague suspicions, and +warned me, too, of my peril. It was a weird sight. At the far end of the +place a small furnace was burning, casting a vivid glow upon the white, +startled faces of the men who were grouped around it. One held in his +hand a great ladlefull of hissing liquid, and another on his knees was +holding steady the mould which was to receive it. But though they kept +their positions unchanged, they thought no more of their tasks. The +attention of one and all was bent upon me in horror-struck amazement. + +The man who first recovered himself sufficiently to be able to frame an +articulate sentence was the man holding the ladle. + +"Are you mad, de Cartienne?" he hissed out. "What have you brought that +young cub down here for?" + +"I have brought him here," he answered, with a shade of contempt in his +tone at the alarm which they were all showing, "because he is safer here +than anywhere else--for the present. + +"Somehow or other--probably by looking inside that unfortunate box--this +young cub, as you call him, knows our secret. To let him go would, of +course, be absurd, so I've brought him here to be tried for his +unpardonable curiosity. What shall we do with him? I propose that we +throw him into the river." + +I moved a little farther back towards the door, listening with strained +ears and bated breath, for I fancied that I heard a faint sound of voices +and footsteps above. Apparently the others had heard it, too, for there +was a death-like silence for a few moments. Then spoke the Count. + +"That must be Drummond with the box. Will you go and see, Ferrier?" + +There was the trampling of many feet outside, and then a sudden swift +torrent of blows upon the closed door. + +In an instant all was wild confusion. Count de Cartienne was the only one +who was not panic-stricken. + +"The game is up," he cried fiercely, "and here is the traitor." + +Like lightning he stooped down and I saw something in his hand flash +before my eyes. There was a strange burning pain and then everything +faded away before my sight. I heard the door beaten down and the sound of +my rescuers streaming in. Then all sound became concentrated in a +confused roar, which throbbed for a moment in my ears and then died away. +Unconsciousness crept in upon me. + +When I opened my eyes again I found myself lying upon a bed in a strange +room. By my side was my father, leaning back in a low, easy chair. + +"Where am I?" I asked. "How long have I been here! Tell me all about it." + +My father stood up with a little exclamation of relief. + +"Better, Philip? That is well. You are at the nearest decent hotel we +could find last night, or rather this morning." + +"Tell me all about it," I cried. + +"Everyone was taken except de Cartienne. He fought like a tiger and got +off. But it is only for a while. He will be caught. His description----" + +"His description will be of no use at all," I interrupted, breathlessly. +"Has anything been heard of Mr. Marx?" + +My father picked up an open telegram from the table by his side. + +"Mr. Marx has gone back to Ravenor. This telegram is from the +stationmaster at Mellborough." + +I leapt from the bed and plunged my still aching head into a basin of +water. + +"What is the matter, Philip? You will be ill again if you excite +yourself," my father said wondering. + +"I'm all right," I answered. "What is the time?" + +"Four o'clock." + +"Quick, then, and we shall catch the five o'clock train to Mellborough," +I urged. + +"To Mellborough! But how about de Cartienne?" + +"de Cartienne! He exists no longer! It is Marx we want." + +Then the truth broke in upon my father, and he sprang to his feet with a +low cry. + +"Philip, why did you not tell me before?" + +"I only knew last night for certain. Thank God, I kept it to myself. He +thinks himself safe as Mr. Marx--safer than flying the country as the +Count de Cartienne--the villain!" + +Suddenly my father stopped short on his way to the door. + +"Philip," he said hoarsely, "do you remember whom we left at Ravenor +waiting for Mr. Marx?" + +For the moment I had forgotten it. We looked at one another and there +crept into my mind the vision of a gaunt, desperate man, his white face +and burning eyes filled with an unutterable fiendish longing. The same +thought filled us both. If Mr. Marx made use of his private keys and went +straight to the library at the castle, what would come of it? + +I laid my hand upon my father's arm. + +"There is justice in the world after all," I said hoarsely. "That man +will kill him." + +Then we went out together without another word. + + + + + CHAPTER LV. + THE MYSTERY OF MR. MARX. + + +It was twenty minutes to eight when we arrived at Mellborough, and, as we +had not sent word on, there was no carriage to meet us, nor, as it +happened, any spare vehicle. After a brief word or two with the +stationmaster, we decided to walk down into the town and order a fly. + +When we reached the house, the butler stepped forward, his ruddy face +blanched and his voice shaking. + +"Thank God you are come, sir! The man you left here, he's gone a raving +lunatic, and he's shut himself up there, and got your revolvers out, and +swears that no one shall enter the room till you come." + +"There's someone with him," my father said quickly. + +The man's face seemed literally shrunken up with horror. + +"It's awful, sir; I've been near once, and I'll never get over it as long +as I live. He's got some poor wretch there, killing him by inches, +torturing him like a cat does a mouse. He's been shrieking for help for +hours, and we can do nothing. The poor creature must be nearly dead now. +Ah, there it is again, sir! Four of our men have been shot trying to get +to him. Listen! Oh, why does he not die!" + +A low, faint cry, full of a most heart-stirring anguish, floated out from +the library window. It was the most awful sound I have ever heard in my +life. Following close upon it, drowning its faint echo, came the loud +mocking laugh of the torturer, ringing out harsh and mirthless in hideous +contrast. + +A deep, audible shudder passed through the little group of bystanders. +Then my father, without a word, started forward across the lawn towards +the window and I followed close behind. It seemed to me that everyone +must be holding their breath, the silence was so intense. The wind had +dropped for a moment, and the moon shone faintly down through a cloud of +mist upon the white, eager faces, filled now with a new anxiety. + +A few swift steps brought us to the window. A lamp was burning upon the +writing-table and the interior of the room was clearly visible. On the +floor a little distance from the window was a dark shape which, as we +drew nearer, we could see to be the prostrate figure of a man. Walking up +and down in front of it, with short, uneven steps, was Francis, his hair +and dress in wild disorder and his whole appearance betokening that he +had recently been engaged in a desperate struggle. + +Suddenly he turned round and saw us. With a wild cry of rage he rushed to +the window, the glass of which was completely wrecked, and glared at us +threateningly through the framework. + +"Away! away!" he shrieked, "or there will be more trouble! I must stay +here, I must wait till he comes! Let me be, I tell you!" + +The revolver, which he clenched in his right hand, was raised and +levelled. It was a dreadful moment. + +"It is I, Mr. Ravenor," my father answered calmly. "Don't you know me, +Francis?" + +Again the moon broke through the clouds and shone with a faint light upon +my father's pale, stern face. Francis recognised him at once. He threw +his hands high over his head in a wild gesture of welcome and flung open +the window. My father walked steadily forward into the room and I +followed him. Francis, trembling with eagerness, stood between us. + +"See," he cried, pointing downwards, "is it not well done? See! Let me +tell you about it. Quick! quick! He came! It was twilight! He was at the +cabinet there. I stole out of the darkness. I flung my arms around him. +He struggled. Ah, how he struggled; but it was all no use. Ha! ha! ha! I +was too strong for him. I held him tighter and tighter, till I nearly +strangled him, and he gasped and gurgled and moaned. Oh! it was fine to +see him. Then I found a cord in the drawer there and I bound him, and +while I fastened the knots I laughed and I talked to him. I talked about +that night in the storm when he threw his father"--he pointed a long, +quivering finger at me--"threw him into the slate quarry, and about that +day when he came to the Castle gate and brought me to the plantation, and +suddenly caught me by the throat till he thought he had strangled me, and +beat me on the head. Ah, how my head has burned ever since, ever since, +ever since! Ah, Milly, come to me! Milly, I am on fire! My head is on +fire! Ah, ah!" + +The foam burst out from between his pallid, quivering lips, and his eyes, +red and burning, suddenly closed. A ghastly change crept over his +blood-stained, pallid face. He sank backwards and fell heavily upon the +floor. + +We scarcely noticed him, for our eyes were bent elsewhere. The horror of +that sight lived with me afterwards for many years, a haunting shadow +over my life--disturbing even its sweetest moments, a hideous, maddening +memory. I am not going to attempt to describe it. No words could express +the horror of it. Such things are not to be written about. + +Even my father's iron nerve seemed to give way for a moment, and he stood +by my side trembling, with his head buried in his hands. Then he sank on +his knees and loosened the cords. + +"Thank God he is dead," he murmured fervently, as he felt the cold body +and lifeless pulse, and cleared away the last fragments of disguise from +the head and face. "You had better call Mr. Carrol in, Philip." + +Even as he spoke, a little awed group was silently filling the room, +Carrol and his sergeant amongst them. But after all they were cheated of +their task, for out in the moonlight John Francis lay stark, the madness +gone from his white, still face, and the calm of death reigning there +instead. + + + + + CHAPTER LVI. + THE END OF IT. + + +We were together, my father and I, under the shade of a little cluster of +olive trees high up among the mountains. Far away below us the Campagna +stretched to the foot of the dim hills steeped in blue which surround the +Eternal City, towards which we had been gazing in a silence which had +been for long unbroken. It was I at last who spoke, pointing downwards to +where the bare grey stone walls of a small monastic building rose with +almost startling abruptness from a narrow ledge of sward overhanging the +precipice. + +"Is this to be the end, then, father?" I cried bitterly; "this +prison-house?" + +He turned towards me with a look upon his face which I had grown to +hate--a look calm and gentle enough, but full of resolution as unchanging +as the mountains which towered above us. + +"It must be so, Philip," he said, quietly. "Is it well, think you, that I +should return again into the life which I am weary of, when all that I +desire lies here ready to my hand? Peace and rest--I want nothing more." + +"And why cannot you find them in England--at Ravenor with me?" I cried +eagerly. "And your work, too--it could be done again. We would live alone +there and bury ourselves from the world and everyone in it. I could help +you. I could be your amanuensis. I should like that better than anything. +Remember how all the papers lamented the cruel destruction of your +manuscripts, and how everyone hoped that you would rewrite them. Oh, you +must not do this thing, father--you must not! You have no right to cut +yourself off from the world--no right!" I re-echoed passionately. + +He shook his head slowly, but alas! with no sign of yielding. + +"Philip," he said quietly, "it troubles me to hear you plead like this in +vain, for so it must ever be. I am happy now; happy in the recollection +of the time we have spent together. Happy, too, in the thought that I can +end my days in peace, with no disturbing ghosts of the past to rise up +and haunt me!" + +I was silent and kept my face turned away towards the mountains, for I +would not have had him see my weakness. Soon he spoke again, and this +time there was a vein of sadness in his tone. + +"The time has come for us to part for awhile, Philip. There is one thing +more which I would say to you. It concerns Cecil." + +"Cecil?" I echoed vaguely. + +"Yes." + +"All his life he has been brought up to consider himself my heir. Now, of +course, things will be very different with him. He is weak and easily +led. I should like to think that you were friends; and if you have an +opportunity of helping him in any way you will not neglect it." + +"I will not," I promised. "Cecil and I will always be friends." + +We descended the steep hillside path and stood together almost on the +threshold of the little monastery. Then my father held out his hand to +me, and a soft, sweet light shone for a moment in his dark blue eyes. + +"Farewell, Philip," he said--"farewell. God bless you." And while I was +returning the grasp of his closed fingers and struggling to keep down a +rising lump in my throat, he passed away from me silently, like a figure +in a dream, and the thick, nail-studded door opened and was closed behind +him. + +Then I set my face towards Rome, with blurred eyesight and a bitter sense +of loss at my heart. I was going back to England to take possession of a +great inheritance, but there was no joy in the thought, only an +unutterable, intolerable loneliness which weighed down my heart and +spirits and filled me with deep depression. + +Cecil met me in London, and we went to Ravenor together. It was a strange +sensation to me to enter the Castle as its virtual owner, to wander from +room to room, from gallery to gallery, and know that it was all mine, and +that the long line of Ravenors who frowned and smiled upon me from their +dark, worm-eaten frames were my ancestors. At first it seemed +pleasant--pleasant, at least, in a measure,--but when I stood in the +library and passed on into that little chamber the memories connected +with them swept in upon me with such irresistible force that I was glad +to send Cecil away for a while. + +For some time I lived quite alone, save for Cecil's frequent visits, +keeping aloof from the people who lived near, and making but few +acquaintances. The days I spent either on horseback or with my gun, or +often tramping many miles over the open country with a book in my pocket, +after the fashion of the days of my boyhood. The nights I had no +difficulty about whatever. With such a library as my father's to help me, +my love of reading became almost a part of myself. + +There was one person who viewed this change with profound +dissatisfaction, and who at last broke into open protest. + +"I say, Phil, you know it won't do," Cecil declared one night, when I had +tried to steal away into the library on some pretext. "A young fellow of +your age, with eighty thousand a year, has no business to shut himself up +with a lot of musty books and dream away his time like an old hermit. +People are asking about you everywhere, and I'm getting tired of +explaining what a rum sort of chap you are. It won't do, really." + +"Well," I answered, "what do you want me to do?" + +"I want you to come back to town with me and put up with my people a bit. +The mater is very keen about it; in fact, she says that she shall come +down here in the autumn if you don't come." + +I leaned back in my chair and a day-dream rose up before me. + +"What is your sister like now, Cis?" I asked suddenly. + +"Trixie! Oh, she's turned out pretty well, I think!" he answered +complacently. "What friends you two used to be, by the by!" + +We said no more about the matter then, but on the following morning I +received two letters, one from Lady Silchester and the other from Lord +Langerdale, both urging me to pay at least a short visit to London and +perform social duties, which naturally seemed of more importance to them +than to me. I read them through carefully and made up my mind at once. +But Lord Langerdale's letter had stirred up some old memories, and I did +not tell Cecil my decision immediately. + +"You are about town a good deal, Cecil. Do you ever see anything of +Leonard de Cartienne?" I asked. + +Cecil shook his head. + +"No, nor am I ever likely to," he answered. "I have heard of him, though, +by a strange fluke." + +"What is he doing?" + +"Got a commission in the Turkish army. Queer thing I heard the other day +from a man I used to know very well once. He's secretary at the Embassy +now at Constantinople, and he asked me whether I ever came across him. +Seems he isn't particularly popular out there." + +"He's a bad lot," I remarked. + +"Jolly sure of it," Cecil assented. "No one but a blackguard would have +behaved as he did to poor little Milly. But about London, Phil?" + +"I will go," I said. "If you like we will leave here to-morrow." + +Lady Silchester received us very kindly, and Beatrice, though full of the +distractions of her first season, seemed even better pleased to see us. +It was strange how much I found in the tall slim girl, whom everyone was +quoting as the beauty of the season, to remind me of the quaint, +old-fashioned child whose imperious manner and naive talk had so charmed +me a few years ago. There were the same wealth of ruddy golden hair, the +same delicate features, and the same dainty little mannerisms. Everyone +admired Lady Beatrice, and so did I. + +My stay in London lasted till the end of the season. I made my orthodox +_debut_ into Society under the wing of Lord Langerdale, and divided my +time pretty well between my aunt and uncle and the house in Cadogan +Square. When at last it was all over, Lord and Lady Langerdale, Lady +Silchester, Cecil, and Beatrice returned to Ravenor as my guests. + +I am not writing a love story. I cannot trace the growth of my love for +Beatrice, for it seemed to come upon me with a rush; and yet, when I +wondered how it came, it seemed to me that it must have been always so. +Those long summer days at Ravenor were the sweetest I had ever known. I +lost all count of time. Hours and days and weeks seemed all blended in an +exquisite dream, from which, unlike all others, the awakening was at once +the culmination and the happiest part. For one night we came back hand in +hand from wandering about on the terraces under a starlit sky, and a +great joy was gliding through my veins and throbbing in my heart. + +Need I say what had happened? Beatrice was mine, my own, and I was very +happy. + +"Come to me when you are married--both of you," was my father's message; +and we went, Alas, for the cloud which so soon dimmed our newborn +happiness! We arrived in time--only just in time--to stand by his +death-bed. + +How the scene comes back to me! The door and windows of his little +chamber were thrown wide open and the soft, languorous breeze, heavy with +the odour of wild flowers, stole in and played upon his wasted face. + +What a countenance it was! Passion-scarred, yet chastened and softened by +keen physical pain; the burning blue eyes fixed steadily, yet with a +sweet, steadfast light, upon the dim horizon--beautiful after the highest +type of spiritual beauty. Twilight stole down from the hills, and then we +gently folded his arms upon his breast, and the watchers outside, knowing +well what such an action meant, wiped the tears from their eyes and +slowly wended their way homewards. + +Then, later, the solemn chant of the monks in pious procession broke the +stillness of the mountain night. But such a death was scarcely death. At +least, it was death robbed of all its terrors; unutterably sad, yet +unutterably sweet. There was truth beyond expression in the simple words +rudely carved upon the wooden cross which, amid a score or two of others +in a sheltered nook down in the valley, stands at the foot of his narrow +grave-- + + "He Sought Peace, and Found It." + +So may it be with us! + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +Transcriber's note: + + +Obvious typographical errors in spelling and punctuation were +corrected without comment. + +Capitalization of the name "de Cartienne" was made consistent. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. 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