diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 7890-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 288857 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 7890-h/7890-h.htm | 22228 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 7890.txt | 15530 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 7890.zip | bin | 0 -> 282314 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/blind10.txt | 15276 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/blind10.zip | bin | 0 -> 287307 bytes |
9 files changed, 53050 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/7890-h.zip b/7890-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..93f8fcb --- /dev/null +++ b/7890-h.zip diff --git a/7890-h/7890-h.htm b/7890-h/7890-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a55f36c --- /dev/null +++ b/7890-h/7890-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,22228 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of Blind Love, by Wilkie Collins +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: small } + +P.letter {font-size: small ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.footnote {font-size: smaller ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Blind Love, by Wilkie Collins + +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: Blind Love + +Author: Wilkie Collins + +Posting Date: January 28, 2009 [EBook #7890] +Release Date: April 2005 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLIND LOVE *** + + + + +Produced by James Rusk. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +Blind Love +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +by +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +Wilkie Collins <BR> +(completed by Walter Besant) +</H2> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H2> + +<BR> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="85%"> +<A HREF="#preface">PREFACE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="85%"> +<A HREF="#prologue">PROLOGUE</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +FIRST PERIOD +</H3> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%">I </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="85%"> +<A HREF="#chap01">THE SOUR FRENCH WINE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap02">THE MAN SHE REFUSED</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap03">THE REGISTERED PACKET</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap04">THE GAME: MOUNTJOY LOSES</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap05">THE GAME: MOUNTJOY PLAYS A NEW CARD</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap06">THE GAME: MOUNTJOY WINS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap07">DOCTORING THE DOCTOR</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap08">HER FATHER'S MESSAGE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IX </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap09">MR. VIMPANY ON INTOXICATION</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">X </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap10">THE MOCKERY OF DECEIT</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap11">MRS. VIMPANY'S FAREWELL</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap12">LORD HARRY's DEFENCE</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE SECOND PERIOD +</H3> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%">XIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="85%"> +<A HREF="#chap13">IRIS AT HOME</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap14">THE LADY'S MAID</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap15">MR. HENLEY'S TEMPER</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap16">THE DOCTOR IN FULL DRESS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap17">ON HAMPSTEAD HEATH</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap18">PROFESSIONAL ASSISTANCE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIX </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap19">MR. HENLEY AT HOME</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XX </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap20">FIRST SUSPICIONS OF IRIS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap21">THE PARTING SCENE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap22">THE FATAL WORDS</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE THIRD PERIOD +</H3> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%">XXIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="85%"> +<A HREF="#chap23">NEWS OF IRIS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap24">LORD HARRY'S HONEYMOON</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap25">THE DOCTOR IN DIFFICULTIES</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap26">LONDON AND PARIS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap27">THE BRIDE AT HOME</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap28">THE MAID AND THE KEYHOLE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIX </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap29">THE CONQUEST OF MR. VIMPANY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXX </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap30">SAXON AND CELT</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap31">THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap32">GOOD-BYE TO IRIS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap33">THE DECREE OF FATE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXIV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap34">MY LORD'S MIND</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap35">MY LADY'S MIND</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXVI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap36">THE DOCTOR MEANS MISCHIEF</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXVII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap37">THE FIRST QUARREL</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXVIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap38">ICI ON PARLE FRANCAIS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXXIX </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap39">THE MYSTERY OF THE HOSPITAL</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XL </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap40">DIRE NECESSITY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XLI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap41">THE MAN IS FOUND.</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XLII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap42">THE METTLESOME MAID</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XLIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap43">FICTION: ATTEMPTED BY MY LORD</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XLIV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap44">FICTION: IMPROVED BY THE DOCTOR</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XLV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap45">FACT: RELATED BY FANNY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XLVI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap46">MAN AND WIFE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XLVII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap47">THE PATIENT AND MY LORD</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XLVIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap48">"THE MISTRESS AND THE MAID"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XLIX </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap49">THE NURSE IS SENT AWAY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">L </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap50">IN THE ALCOVE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">LI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap51">WHAT NEXT?</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">LII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap52">THE DEAD MAN'S PHOTOGRAPH</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">LIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap53">THE WIFE'S RETURN</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">LIV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap54">ANOTHER STEP</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">LV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap55">THE ADVENTURES OF A FAITHFUL MAID</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">LVI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap56">FANNY'S NARRATIVE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">LVII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap57">AT LOUVAIN</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">LVIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap58">OF COURSE THEY WILL PAY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">LIX </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap59">THE CONSEQUENCES OF AN ADVERTISEMENT</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">LX </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap60">ON THE EVE OF A CHANGE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">LXI </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap61">THE LAST DISCOVERY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">LXII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap62">THE BOARD OF DIRECTORS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">LXIII </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap63">A REFUGE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">LXIV </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap64">THE INVINCIBLES</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="85%"> +<A HREF="#epilogue">EPILOGUE</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="preface"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PREFACE +</H3> + +<P> +IN the month of August 1889, and in the middle of the seaside holiday, +a message came to me from Wilkie Collins, then, though we hoped +otherwise, on his death-bed. +</P> + +<P> +It was conveyed to me by Mr. A. P. Watt. He told me that his son had +just come from Wilkie Collins: that they had been speaking of his +novel, "Blind Love," then running in the <I>Illustrated London News</I>: +that the novel was, unfortunately, unfinished: that he himself could +not possibly finish it: and that he would be very glad, if I would +finish it if I could find the time. And that if I could undertake this +work he would send me his notes of the remainder. Wilkie Collins added +these words: "If he has the time I think he will do it: we are both old +hands at this work, and understand it, and he knows that I would do the +same for him if he were in my place." +</P> + +<P> +Under the circumstances of the case, it was impossible to decline this +request. I wrote to say that time should be made, and the notes were +forwarded to me at Robin Hood's Bay. I began by reading carefully and +twice over, so as to get a grip of the story and the novelist's +intention, the part that had already appeared, and the proofs so far as +the author had gone. I then turned to the notes. I found that these +were not merely notes such as I expected—simple indications of the +plot and the development of events, but an actual detailed scenario, in +which every incident, however trivial, was carefully laid down: there +were also fragments of dialogue inserted at those places where dialogue +was wanted to emphasise the situation and make it real. I was much +struck with the writer's perception of the vast importance of dialogue +in making the reader seize the scene. Description requires attention: +dialogue rivets attention. +</P> + +<P> +It is not an easy task, nor is it pleasant, to carry on another man's +work: but the possession of this scenario lightened the work +enormously. I have been careful to adhere faithfully and exactly to the +plot, scene by scene, down to the smallest detail as it was laid down +by the author in this book. I have altered nothing. I have preserved +and incorporated every fragment of dialogue. I have used the very +language wherever that was written so carefully as to show that it was +meant to be used. I think that there is only one trivial detail where I +had to choose because it was not clear from the notes what the author +had intended. The plot of the novel, every scene, every situation, from +beginning to end, is the work of Wilkie Collins. The actual writing is +entirely his up to a certain point: from that point to the end it is +partly his, but mainly mine. Where his writing ends and mine begins, I +need not point out. The practised critic will, no doubt, at once lay +his finger on the spot. +</P> + +<P> +I have therefore carried out the author's wishes to the best of my +ability. I would that he were living still, if only to regret that he +had not been allowed to finish his last work with his own hand! +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +WALTER BESANT. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="prologue"></A> +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +BLIND LOVE +</H1> + +<BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE PROLOGUE +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +I +</H4> + +<P> +SOON after sunrise, on a cloudy morning in the year 1881, a special +messenger disturbed the repose of Dennis Howmore, at his place of +residence in the pleasant Irish town of Ardoon. +</P> + +<P> +Well acquainted apparently with the way upstairs, the man thumped on a +bed-room door, and shouted his message through it: "The master wants +you, and mind you don't keep him waiting." +</P> + +<P> +The person sending this peremptory message was Sir Giles Mountjoy of +Ardoon, knight and banker. The person receiving the message was Sir +Giles's head clerk. As a matter of course, Dennis Howmore dressed +himself at full speed, and hastened to his employer's private house on +the outskirts of the town. +</P> + +<P> +He found Sir Giles in an irritable and anxious state of mind. A letter +lay open on the banker's bed, his night-cap was crumpled crookedly on +his head, he was in too great a hurry to remember the claims of +politeness, when the clerk said "Good morning." +</P> + +<P> +"Dennis, I have got something for you to do. It must be kept a secret, +and it allows of no delay." +</P> + +<P> +"Is it anything connected with business, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +The banker lost his temper. "How can you be such an infernal fool as to +suppose that anything connected with business could happen at this time +in the morning? Do you know the first milestone on the road to Garvan?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well. Go to the milestone, and take care that nobody sees you +when you get there. Look at the back of the stone. If you discover an +Object which appears to have been left in that situation on the ground, +bring it to me; and don't forget that the most impatient man in all +Ireland is waiting for you." +</P> + +<P> +Not a word of explanation followed these extraordinary instructions. +</P> + +<P> +The head clerk set forth on his errand, with his mind dwelling on the +national tendencies to conspiracy and assassination. His employer was +not a popular person. Sir Giles had paid rent when he owed it; and, +worse still, was disposed to remember in a friendly spirit what England +had done for Ireland, in the course of the last fifty years. If +anything appeared to justify distrust of the mysterious Object of which +he was in search, Dennis resolved to be vigilantly on the look-out for +a gun-barrel, whenever he passed a hedge on his return journey to the +town. +</P> + +<P> +Arrived at the milestone, he discovered on the ground behind it one +Object only—a fragment of a broken tea-cup. +</P> + +<P> +Naturally enough, Dennis hesitated. It seemed to be impossible that the +earnest and careful instructions which he had received could relate to +such a trifle as this. At the same time, he was acting under orders +which were as positive as tone, manner, and language could make them. +Passive obedience appeared to be the one safe course to take—at the +risk of a reception, irritating to any man's self-respect, when he +returned to his employer with a broken teacup in his hand. +</P> + +<P> +The event entirely failed to justify his misgivings. There could be no +doubt that Sir Giles attached serious importance to the contemptible +discovery made at the milestone. After having examined and re-examined +the fragment, he announced his intention of sending the clerk on a +second errand—still without troubling himself to explain what his +incomprehensible instructions meant. +</P> + +<P> +"If I am not mistaken," he began, "the Reading Rooms, in our town, open +as early as nine. Very well. Go to the Rooms this morning, on the +stroke of the clock." He stopped, and consulted the letter which lay +open on his bed. "Ask the librarian," he continued, "for the third +volume of Gibbon's 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.' Open the +book at pages seventy-eight and seventy-nine. If you find a piece of +paper between those two leaves, take possession of it when nobody is +looking at you, and bring it to me. That's all, Dennis. And bear in +mind that I shall not recover the use of my patience till I see you +again." +</P> + +<P> +On ordinary occasions, the head clerk was not a man accustomed to +insist on what was due to his dignity. At the same time he was a +sensible human being, conscious of the consideration to which his +responsible place in the office entitled him. Sir Giles's irritating +reserve, not even excused by a word of apology, reached the limits of +his endurance. He respectfully protested. +</P> + +<P> +"I regret to find, sir," he said, "that I have lost my place in my +employer's estimation. The man to whom you confide the superintendence +of your clerks and the transaction of your business has, I venture to +think, some claim (under the present circumstances) to be trusted." +</P> + +<P> +The banker was now offended on his side. +</P> + +<P> +"I readily admit your claim," he answered, "when you are sitting at +your desk in my office. But, even in these days of strikes, +co-operations, and bank holidays, an employer has one privilege +left—he has not ceased to be a Man, and he has not forfeited a man's +right to keep his own secrets. I fail to see anything in my conduct +which has given you just reason to complain." +</P> + +<P> +Dennis, rebuked, made his bow in silence, and withdrew. +</P> + +<P> +Did these acts of humility mean that he submitted? They meant exactly +the contrary. He had made up his mind that Sir Giles Mountjoy's motives +should, sooner or later, cease to be mysteries to Sir Giles Mountjoy's +clerk. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +II +</H4> + +<P> +CAREFULLY following his instructions, he consulted the third volume of +Gibbon's great History, and found, between the seventy-eighth and +seventy-ninth pages, something remarkable this time. +</P> + +<P> +It was a sheet of delicately-made paper, pierced with a number of +little holes, infinitely varied in size, and cut with the smoothest +precision. Having secured this curious object, while the librarian's +back was turned, Dennis Howmore reflected. +</P> + +<P> +A page of paper, unintelligibly perforated for some purpose unknown, +was in itself a suspicious thing. And what did suspicion suggest to the +inquiring mind in South-Western Ireland, before the suppression of the +Land League? Unquestionably—-Police! +</P> + +<P> +On the way back to his employer, the banker's clerk paid a visit to an +old friend—a journalist by profession, and a man of varied learning +and experience as well. Invited to inspect the remarkable morsel of +paper, and to discover the object with which the perforations had been +made, the authority consulted proved to be worthy of the trust reposed +in him. Dennis left the newspaper office an enlightened man—with +information at the disposal of Sir Giles, and with a sense of relief +which expressed itself irreverently in these words: "Now I have got +him!" +</P> + +<P> +The bewildered banker looked backwards and forwards from the paper to +the clerk, and from the clerk to the paper. "I don't understand it," he +said. "Do you?" +</P> + +<P> +Still preserving the appearance of humility, Dennis asked leave to +venture on a guess. The perforated paper looked, as he thought, like a +Puzzle. "If we wait for a day or two," he suggested, "the Key to it may +possibly reach us." +</P> + +<P> +On the next day, nothing happened. On the day after, a second letter +made another audacious demand on the fast failing patience of Sir Giles +Mountjoy. +</P> + +<P> +Even the envelope proved to be a Puzzle on this occasion; the postmark +was "Ardoon." In other words, the writer had used the postman as a +messenger, while he or his accomplice was actually in the town, posting +the letter within half-a-minute's walk of the bank! The contents +presented an impenetrable mystery, the writing looked worthy of a +madman. Sentences appeared in the wildest state of confusion, and words +were so mutilated as to be unintelligible. This time the force of +circumstances was more than Sir Giles could resist. He took the clerk +into his confidence at last. +</P> + +<P> +"Let us begin at the beginning," he said. "There is the letter you saw +on my bed, when I first sent for you. I found it waiting on my table +when I woke; and I don't know who put it there. Read it." +</P> + +<P> +Dennis read as follows: +</P> + +<P> +"Sir Giles Mountjoy,—I have a disclosure to make, in which one of the +members of your family is seriously interested. Before I can venture to +explain myself, I must be assured that I can trust to your good faith. +As a test of this, I require you to fulfil the two conditions that +follow—and to do it without the slightest loss of time. I dare not +trust you yet with my address, or my signature. Any act of +carelessness, on my part, might end fatally for the true friend who +writes these lines. If you neglect this warning, you will regret it to +the end of your life." +</P> + +<P> +To the conditions on which the letter insisted there is no need to +allude. They had been complied with when the discoveries were made at +the back of the milestone, and between the pages of Gibson's history. +Sir Giles had already arrived at the conclusion that a conspiracy was +in progress to assassinate him, and perhaps to rob the bank. The wiser +head clerk pointed to the perforated paper and the incomprehensible +writing received that morning. "If we can find out what these mean," he +said, "you may be better able, sir, to form a correct opinion." +</P> + +<P> +"And who is to do that?" the banker asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I can but try, sir," was the modest reply, "if you see no objection to +my making the attempt." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Giles approved of the proposed experiment, silently and +satirically, by a bend of his head. +</P> + +<P> +Too discreet a man to make a suspiciously ready use of the information +which he had privately obtained, Dennis took care that his first +attempt should not be successful. After modestly asking permission to +try again, he ventured on the second occasion to arrive at a happy +discovery. Lifting the perforated paper, he placed it delicately over +the page which contained the unintelligible writing. Words and +sentences now appeared (through the holes in the paper) in their right +spelling and arrangement, and addressed Sir Giles in these terms: +</P> + +<P> +"I beg to thank you, sir, for complying with my conditions. You have +satisfied me of your good faith. At the same time, it is possible that +you may hesitate to trust a man who is not yet able to admit you to his +confidence. The perilous position in which I stand obliges me to ask +for two or three days more of delay, before I can safely make an +appointment with you. Pray be patient—and on no account apply for +advice or protection to the police." +</P> + +<P> +"Those last words," Sir Giles declared, "are conclusive! The sooner I +am under the care of the law the better. Take my card to the +police-office." +</P> + +<P> +"May I say a word first, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean that you don't agree with me?" +</P> + +<P> +"I mean that." +</P> + +<P> +"You were always an obstinate man Dennis; and it grows on you as you +get older. Never mind! Let's have it out. Who do <I>you</I> say is the +person pointed at in these rascally letters?" +</P> + +<P> +The head clerk took up the first letter of the two and pointed to the +opening sentence: "Sir Giles Mountjoy, I have a disclosure to make in +which one of the members of your family is seriously interested." +Dennis emphatically repeated the words: "one of the members of your +family." His employer regarded him with a broad stare of astonishment. +</P> + +<P> +"One of the members of my family?" Sir Giles repeated, on his side. +"Why, man alive, what are you thinking of? I'm an old bachelor, and I +haven't got a family." +</P> + +<P> +"There is your brother, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"My brother is in France—out of the way of the wretches who are +threatening me. I wish I was with him!" +</P> + +<P> +"There are your brother's two sons, Sir Giles." +</P> + +<P> +"Well? And what is there to be afraid of? My nephew, Hugh, is in +London—and, mind! not on a political errand. I hope, before long, to +hear that he is going to be married—if the strangest and nicest girl +in England will have him. What's wrong now?" +</P> + +<P> +Dennis explained. "I only wished to say, sir, that I was thinking of +your other nephew." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Giles laughed. "Arthur in danger!" he exclaimed. "As harmless a +young man as ever lived. The worst one can say of him is that he is +throwing away his money—farming in Kerry." +</P> + +<P> +"Excuse me, Sir Giles; there's not much chance of his throwing away his +money, where he is now. Nobody will venture to take his money. I met +with one of Mr. Arthur's neighbours at the market yesterday. Your +nephew is boycotted." +</P> + +<P> +"So much the better," the obstinate banker declared. "He will be cured +of his craze for farming; and he will come back to the place I am +keeping for him in the office." +</P> + +<P> +"God grant it!" the clerk said fervently. +</P> + +<P> +For the moment, Sir Giles was staggered. "Have you heard something that +you haven't told me yet?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir. I am only bearing in mind something which—with all +respect—I think you have forgotten. The last tenant on that bit of +land in Kerry refused to pay his rent. Mr. Arthur has taken what they +call an evicted farm. It's my firm belief," said the head clerk, rising +and speaking earnestly, "that the person who has addressed those +letters to you knows Mr. Arthur, and knows he is in danger—and is +trying to save your nephew (by means of your influence), at the risk of +his own life." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Giles shook his head. "I call that a far-fetched interpretation, +Dennis. If what you say is true, why didn't the writer of those +anonymous letters address himself to Arthur, instead of to me?" +</P> + +<P> +"I gave it as my opinion just now, sir, that the writer of the letter +knew Mr. Arthur." +</P> + +<P> +"So you did. And what of that?" +</P> + +<P> +Dennis stood to his guns. +</P> + +<P> +"Anybody who is acquainted with Mr. Arthur," he persisted, "knows that +(with all sorts of good qualities) the young gentleman is headstrong +and rash. If a friend told him he was in danger on the farm, that would +be enough of itself to make him stop where he is, and brave it out. +Whereas you, sir, are known to be cautious and careful, and farseeing +and discreet." He might have added: And cowardly and obstinate, and +narrow-minded and inflated by stupid self-esteem. But respect for his +employer had blindfolded the clerk's observation for many a long year +past. If one man may be born with the heart of a lion, another man may +be born with the mind of a mule. Dennis's master was one of the other +men. +</P> + +<P> +"Very well put," Sir Giles answered indulgently. "Time will show, if +such an entirely unimportant person as my nephew Arthur is likely to be +assassinated. That allusion to one of the members of my family is a +mere equivocation, designed to throw me off my guard. Rank, money, +social influence, unswerving principles, mark ME out as a public +character. Go to the police-office, and let the best man who happens to +be off duty come here directly." +</P> + +<P> +Good Dennis Howmore approached the door very unwillingly. It was +opened, from the outer side, before he had reached that end of the +room. One of the bank porters announced a visitor. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Henley wishes to know, sir, if you can see her." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Giles looked agreeably surprised. He rose with alacrity to receive +the lady. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +III +</H4> + +<P> +WHEN Iris Henley dies there will, in all probability, be friends left +who remember her and talk of her—and there may be strangers present at +the time (women for the most part), whose curiosity will put questions +relating to her personal appearance. No replies will reward them with +trustworthy information. Miss Henley's chief claim to admiration lay in +a remarkable mobility of expression, which reflected every change of +feeling peculiar to the nature of a sweet and sensitive woman. For this +reason, probably, no descriptions of her will agree with each other. No +existing likenesses will represent her. The one portrait that was +painted of Iris is only recognisable by partial friends of the artist. +In and out of London, photographic likenesses were taken of her. They +have the honour of resembling the portraits of Shakespeare in this +respect—compared with one another, it is not possible to discover that +they present the same person. As for the evidence offered by the loving +memory of her friends, it is sure to be contradictory in the last +degree. She had a charming face, a commonplace face, an intelligent +face—a poor complexion, a delicate complexion, no complexion at +all—eyes that were expressive of a hot temper, of a bright intellect, +of a firm character, of an affectionate disposition, of a truthful +nature, of hysterical sensibility, of inveterate obstinacy—a figure +too short; no, just the right height; no, neither one thing nor the +other; elegant, if you like—dress shabby: oh, surely not; dress quiet +and simple; no, something more than that; ostentatiously quiet, +theatrically simple, worn with the object of looking unlike other +people. In one last word, was this mass of contradictions generally +popular, in the time when it was a living creature? Yes—among the men. +No—not invariably. The man of all others who ought to have been +fondest of her was the man who behaved cruelly to Iris—her own father. +And, when the poor creature married (if she did marry), how many of you +attended the wedding? Not one of us! And when she died, how many of you +were sorry for her? All of us! What? no difference of opinion in that +one particular? On the contrary, perfect concord, thank God. +</P> + +<P> +Let the years roll back, and let Iris speak for herself, at the +memorable time when she was in the prime of her life, and when a stormy +career was before her. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +IV +</H4> + +<P> +BEING Miss Henley's godfather, Sir Giles was a privileged person. He +laid his hairy hands on her shoulders, and kissed her on either cheek. +After that prefatory act of endearment, he made his inquiries. What +extraordinary combination of events had led Iris to leave London, and +had brought her to visit him in his banking-house at Ardoon? +</P> + +<P> +"I wanted to get away from home," she answered; "and having nobody to +go to but my godfather, I thought I should like to see You." +</P> + +<P> +"Alone!" cried Sir Giles. +</P> + +<P> +"No—with my maid to keep me company." +</P> + +<P> +"Only your maid, Iris? Surely you have acquaintances among young ladies +like yourself?" +</P> + +<P> +"Acquaintances—yes. No friends." +</P> + +<P> +"Does your father approve of what you have done?" +</P> + +<P> +"Will you grant me a favour, godpapa?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—if I can." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't insist on my answering your last question." +</P> + +<P> +The faint colour that had risen in her face, when she entered the room, +left it. At the same time, the expression of her mouth altered. The +lips closed firmly; revealing that strongest of all resolutions which +is founded on a keen sense of wrong. She looked older than her age: +what she might be ten years hence, she was now. Sir Giles understood +her. He got up, and took a turn in the room. An old habit, of which he +had cured himself with infinite difficulty when he was made a Knight, +showed itself again. He put his hands in his pockets. +</P> + +<P> +"You and your father have had another quarrel," he said, stopping +opposite Iris. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't deny it," she replied. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is to blame?" +</P> + +<P> +She smiled bitterly. "The woman is always to blame." +</P> + +<P> +"Did your father tell you that?" +</P> + +<P> +"My father reminded me that I was twenty-one years old, last +birthday—and told me that I could do as I liked. I understood him, and +I left the house." +</P> + +<P> +"You will go back again, I suppose?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Giles began pacing the room once more. His rugged face, telling its +story of disaster and struggle in early life, showed signs of +disappointment and distress. +</P> + +<P> +"Hugh promised to write to me," he said, "and he has not written. I +know what that means; I know what you have done to offend your father. +My nephew has asked you to marry him for the second time. And for the +second time you have refused." +</P> + +<P> +Her face softened; its better and younger aspect revived. "Yes," she +said, sadly and submissively; "I have refused him again." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Giles lost his temper. "What the devil is your objection to Hugh?" +he burst out. +</P> + +<P> +"My father said the same thing to me," she replied, "almost in the same +words. I made him angry when I tried to give my reason. I don't want to +make you angry, too." +</P> + +<P> +He took no notice of this. "Isn't Hugh a good fellow?" he went on. +"Isn't he affectionate? and kindhearted? and honourable?—aye, and a +handsome man too, if you come to that." +</P> + +<P> +"Hugh is all that you say. I like him; I admire him; I owe to his +kindness some of the happiest days of my sad life, and I am +grateful—oh, with all my heart, I am grateful to Hugh!" +</P> + +<P> +"If that's true, Iris——" +</P> + +<P> +"Every word of it is true." +</P> + +<P> +"I say, if that's true—there's no excuse for you. I hate perversity in +a young woman! Why don't you marry him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Try to feel for me," she said gently; "I can't love him." +</P> + +<P> +Her tone said more to the banker than her words had expressed. The +secret sorrow of her life, which was known to her father, was known +also to Sir Giles. +</P> + +<P> +"Now we have come to it at last!" he said. "You can't love my nephew +Hugh. And you won't tell me the reason why, because your sweet temper +shrinks from making me angry. Shall I mention the reason for you, my +dear? I can do it in two words—Lord Harry." +</P> + +<P> +She made no reply; she showed no sign of feeling at what he had just +said. Her head sank a little; her hands clasped themselves on her lap; +the obstinate resignation which can submit to anything hardened her +face, stiffened her figure—and that was all. +</P> + +<P> +The banker was determined not to spare her. +</P> + +<P> +"It's easy to see," he resumed, "that you have not got over your +infatuation for that vagabond yet. Go where he may, into the vilest +places and among the lowest people, he carries your heart along with +him. I wonder you are not ashamed of such an attachment as that." +</P> + +<P> +He had stung her at last. She roused herself, and answered him. +</P> + +<P> +"Harry has led a wild life," she said; "he has committed serious +faults, and he may live to do worse than he has done yet. To what +degradation, bad company, and a bad bringing-up may yet lead him, I +leave his enemies to foresee. But I tell you this, he has redeeming +qualities which you, and people like you, are not good Christians +enough to discover. He has friends who can still appreciate him—your +nephew, Arthur Mountjoy, is one of them. Oh, I know it by Arthur's +letters to me! Blame Lord Harry as you may, I tell you he has the +capacity for repentance in him, and one day—when it is too late, I +dare say—he will show it. I can never be his wife. We are parted, +never in all likelihood to meet again. Well, he is the only man whom I +have ever loved; and he is the only man whom I ever shall love. If you +think this state of mind proves that I am as bad as he is, I won't +contradict you. Do we any of us know how bad we are——? Have you heard +of Harry lately?" +</P> + +<P> +The sudden transition, from an earnest and devoted defence of the man, +to an easy and familiar inquiry about him, startled Sir Giles. +</P> + +<P> +For the moment, he had nothing to say; Iris had made him think. She had +shown a capacity for mastering her strongest feelings, at the moment +when they threatened to overcome her, which is very rarely found in a +young woman. How to manage her was a problem for patient resolution to +solve. The banker's obstinacy, rather than his conviction, had +encouraged him to hold to the hope of Hugh's marriage, even after his +nephew had been refused for the second time. His headstrong goddaughter +had come to visit him of her own accord. She had not forgotten the days +of her childhood, when he had some influence over her—when she had +found him kinder to her than her father had ever been. Sir Giles saw +that he had taken the wrong tone with Iris. His anger had not alarmed +her; his opinion had not influenced her. In Hugh's interests, he +determined to try what consideration and indulgence would do towards +cultivating the growth of her regard for him. Finding that she had left +her maid and her luggage at the hotel, he hospitably insisted on their +removal to his own house. +</P> + +<P> +"While you are in Ardoon, Iris, you are my guest," he said. +</P> + +<P> +She pleased him by readily accepting the invitation—and then annoyed +him by asking again if he had heard anything of Lord Harry. +</P> + +<P> +He answered shortly and sharply: "I have heard nothing. What is <I>your</I> +last news of him?" +</P> + +<P> +"News," she said, "which I sincerely hope is not true. An Irish paper +has been sent to me, which reports that he has joined the secret +society—nothing better than a society of assassins, I am afraid—which +is known by the name of the Invincibles." +</P> + +<P> +As she mentioned that formidable brotherhood, Dennis Howmore returned +from the police-office. He announced that a Sergeant was then waiting +to receive instructions from Sir Giles. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +V +</H4> + +<P> +IRIS rose to go. Her godfather courteously stopped her. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait here," he said, "until I have spoken to the Sergeant, and I will +escort you to my house. My clerk will do what is necessary at the +hotel. You don't look quite satisfied. Is the arrangement that I have +proposed not agreeable to you?" +</P> + +<P> +Iris assured him that she gratefully acceded to the arrangement. At the +same time, she confessed to having been a little startled, on +discovering that he was in consultation with the police. "I remember +that we are in Ireland," she explained, "and I am foolish enough to +fear that you may be in some danger. May I hope that it is only a +trifle?" +</P> + +<P> +Only a trifle! Among ether deficient sensibilities in the strange +nature of Iris, Sir Giles had observed an imperfect appreciation of the +dignity of his social position. Here was a new proof of it! The +temptation to inspire sentiments of alarm—not unmingled with +admiration—in the mind of his insensible goddaughter, by exhibiting +himself as a public character threatened by a conspiracy, was more than +the banker's vanity could resist. Before he left the room, he +instructed Dennis to tell Miss Henley what had happened, and to let her +judge for herself whether he had been needlessly alarmed by, what she +was pleased to call, "a mere trifle." +</P> + +<P> +Dennis Howmore must have been more than mortal, if he could have +related his narrative of events without being influenced by his own +point of view. On the first occasion when he mentioned Arthur +Mountjoy's name, Iris showed a sudden interest in his strange story +which took him by surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"You know Mr. Arthur?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Knew him!" Iris repeated. "He was my playfellow when we were both +children. He is as dear to me as if he was my brother. Tell me at +once—is he really in danger?" +</P> + +<P> +Dennis honestly repeated what he had already said, on that subject, to +his master. Miss Henley, entirely agreeing with him, was eager to warn +Arthur of his position. There was no telegraphic communication with the +village which was near his farm. She could only write to him, and she +did write to him, by that day's post—having reasons of her own for +anxiety, which forbade her to show her letter to Dennis. Well aware of +the devoted friendship which united Lord Harry and Arthur Mountjoy—and +bearing in mind the newspaper report of the Irish lord's rash +association with the Invincibles—her fears now identified the noble +vagabond as the writer of the anonymous letters, which had so seriously +excited her godfather's doubts of his own safety. +</P> + +<P> +When Sir Giles returned, and took her with him to his house, he spoke +of his consultation with the Sergeant in terms which increased her +dread of what might happen in the future. She was a dull and silent +guest, during the interval that elapsed before it would be possible to +receive Arthur's reply. The day arrived—and the post brought no relief +to her anxieties. The next day passed without a letter. On the morning +of the fourth day, Sir Giles rose later than usual. His correspondence +was sent to him from the office, at breakfast-time. After opening one +of the letters, he dispatched a messenger in hot haste to the police. +</P> + +<P> +"Look at that," he said, handing the letter to Iris. "Does the assassin +take me for a fool?" +</P> + +<P> +She read the lines that follow: +</P> + +<P> +"Unforeseen events force me, Sir Giles, to run a serious risk. I must +speak to you, and it must not be by daylight. My one hope of safety is +in darkness. Meet me at the first milestone, on the road to Garvan, +when the moon sets at ten o'clock to-night. No need to mention your +name. The password is: <I>Fidelity."</I> +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean to go?" Iris asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Do I mean to be murdered!" Sir Giles broke out. "My dear child, do +pray try to think before you speak. The Sergeant will represent me, of +course." +</P> + +<P> +"And take the man prisoner?" Iris added. +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly!" +</P> + +<P> +With that startling reply, the banker hurried away to receive the +police in another room. Iris dropped into the nearest chair. The turn +that the affair had now taken filled her with unutterable dismay. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Giles came back, after no very long absence, composed and smiling. +The course of proceeding had been settled to his complete satisfaction. +</P> + +<P> +Dressed in private clothes, the Sergeant was to go to the milestone at +the appointed time, representing the banker in the darkness, and giving +the password. He was to be followed by two of his men who would wait in +concealment, within hearing of his whistle, if their services were +required. "I want to see the ruffian when he is safely handcuffed," Sir +Giles explained; "and I have arranged to wait for the police, to-night, +at my office." +</P> + +<P> +There was but one desperate way that Iris could now discern of saving +the man who had confided in her godfather's honour, and whose trust had +already been betrayed. Never had she loved the outlawed Irish lord—the +man whom she was forbidden, and rightly forbidden, to marry—as she +loved him at that moment. Let the risk be what it might, this resolute +woman had determined that the Sergeant should not be the only person +who arrived at the milestone, and gave the password. There was one +devoted friend to Lord Harry, whom she could always trust—and that +friend was herself. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Giles withdrew, to look after his business at the bank. She waited +until the clock had struck the servants' dinner hour, and then ascended +the stairs to her godfather's dressing-room. Opening his wardrobe, she +discovered in one part of it a large Spanish cloak, and, in another +part, a high-crowned felt hat which he wore on his country excursions. +In the dark, here was disguise enough for her purpose. +</P> + +<P> +As she left the dressing-room, a measure of precaution occurred to her, +which she put in action at once. Telling her maid that she had some +purchases to make in the town, she went out, and asked her way to +Garvan of the first respectable stranger whom she met in the street. +Her object was to walk as far as the first milestone, in daylight, so +as to be sure of finding it again by night. She had made herself +familiar with the different objects on the road, when she returned to +the banker's house. +</P> + +<P> +As the time for the arrest drew nearer, Sir Giles became too restless +to wait patiently at home. He went away to the police-office, eager to +hear if any new counter-conspiracy had occurred to the authorities. +</P> + +<P> +It was dark soon after eight o'clock, at that time of the year. At nine +the servants assembled at the supper-table. They were all downstairs +together, talking, and waiting for their meal. +</P> + +<P> +Feeling the necessity of arriving at the place of meeting, in time to +keep out of the Sergeant's way, Iris assumed her disguise as the clock +struck nine. She left the house without a living creature to notice +her, indoors or out. Clouds were gathering over the sky. The waning +moon was only to be seen at intervals, as she set forth on her way to +the milestone. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +VI +</H4> + +<P> +THE wind rose a little, and the rifts in the clouds began to grow +broader as Iris gained the high road. +</P> + +<P> +For a while, the glimmer of the misty moonlight lit the way before her. +As well as she could guess, she had passed over more than half of the +distance between the town and the milestone before the sky darkened +again. Objects by the wayside grew shadowy and dim. A few drops of rain +began to fall. The milestone, as she knew—thanks to the discovery of +it made by daylight—was on the right-hand side of the road. But the +dull-grey colour of the stone was not easy to see in the dark. +</P> + +<P> +A doubt troubled her whether she might not have passed the milestone. +She stopped and looked at the sky. +</P> + +<P> +The threatening of rain had passed away: signs showed themselves which +seemed to promise another break in the clouds. She waited. Low and +faint, the sinking moonlight looked its last at the dull earth. In +front of her, there was nothing to be seen but the road. She looked +back—and discovered the milestone. +</P> + +<P> +A rough stone wall protected the land on either side of the road. +Nearly behind the milestone there was a gap in this fence, partially +closed by a hurdle. A half-ruined culvert, arching a ditch that had run +dry, formed a bridge leading from the road to the field. Had the field +been already chosen as a place of concealment by the police? Nothing +was to be seen but a footpath, and the dusky line of a plantation +beyond it. As she made these discoveries, the rain began to fall again; +the clouds gathered once more; the moonlight vanished. +</P> + +<P> +At the same moment an obstacle presented itself to her mind, which Iris +had thus far failed to foresee. +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry might approach the milestone by three different ways: that +is to say—by the road from the town, or by the road from the open +country, or by way of the field and the culvert. How could she so place +herself as to be sure of warning him, before he fell into the hands of +the police? To watch the three means of approach in the obscurity of +the night, and at one and the same time, was impossible. +</P> + +<P> +A man in this position, guided by reason, would in all probability have +wasted precious time in trying to arrive at the right decision. A +woman, aided by love, conquered the difficulty that confronted her in a +moment. +</P> + +<P> +Iris decided on returning to the milestone, and on waiting there to be +discovered and taken prisoner by the police. Supposing Lord Harry to be +punctual to his appointment, he would hear voices and movements, as a +necessary consequence of the arrest, in time to make his escape. +Supposing him on the other hand to be late, the police would be on the +way back to the town with their prisoner: he would find no one at the +milestone, and would leave it again in safety. +</P> + +<P> +She was on the point of turning, to get back to the road, when +something on the dark surface of the field, which looked like a darker +shadow, became dimly visible. In another moment it seemed to be a +shadow that moved. She ran towards it. It looked like a man as she drew +nearer. The man stopped. +</P> + +<P> +"The password," he said, in tones cautiously lowered. +</P> + +<P> +"Fidelity," she answered in a whisper. +</P> + +<P> +It was too dark for a recognition of his features; but Iris knew him by +his tall stature—knew him by the accent in which he had asked for the +password. Erroneously judging of her, on his side, as a man, he drew +back again. Sir Giles Mountjoy was above the middle height; the +stranger in a cloak, who had whispered to him, was below it. "You are +not the person I expected to meet," he said. "Who are you?" +</P> + +<P> +Her faithful heart was longing to tell him the truth. The temptation to +reveal herself, and to make the sweet confession of her happiness at +having saved him, would have overpowered her discretion, but for a +sound that was audible on the road behind them. In the deep silence of +the time and place mistake was impossible. It was the sound of +footsteps. +</P> + +<P> +There was just time to whisper to him: "Sir Giles has betrayed you. +Save yourself." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, whoever you are!" +</P> + +<P> +With that reply, he suddenly and swiftly disappeared. Iris remembered +the culvert, and turned towards it. There was a hiding-place under the +arch, if she could only get down into the dry ditch in time. She was +feeling her way to the slope of it with her feet, when a heavy hand +seized her by the arm; and a resolute voice said: "You are my +prisoner." +</P> + +<P> +She was led back into the road. The man who had got her blew a whistle. +Two other men joined him. +</P> + +<P> +"Show a light," he said; "and let's see who the fellow is." +</P> + +<P> +The shade was slipped aside from a lantern: the light fell full on the +prisoner's face. Amazement petrified the two attendant policemen. The +pious Catholic Sergeant burst into speech: "Holy Mary! it's a woman!" +</P> + +<P> +Did the secret societies of Ireland enrol women? Was this a modern +Judith, expressing herself by anonymous letters, and bent on +assassinating a financial Holofernes who kept a bank? What account had +she to give of herself? How came she to be alone in a desolate field on +a rainy night? Instead of answering these questions, the inscrutable +stranger preferred a bold and brief request. "Take me to Sir +Giles"—was all she said to the police. +</P> + +<P> +The Sergeant had the handcuffs ready. After looking at the prisoner's +delicate wrists by the lantern-light, he put his fetters back in his +pocket. "A lady—and no doubt about it," he said to one of his +assistants. +</P> + +<P> +The two men waited, with a mischievous interest in seeing what he would +do next. The list of their pious officer's virtues included a +constitutional partiality for women, which exhibited the merciful side +of justice when a criminal wore a petticoat. "We will take you to Sir +Giles, Miss," he said—and offered his arm, instead of offering his +handcuffs. Iris understood him, and took his arm. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +She was silent—unaccountably silent as the men thought—on the way to +the town. They heard her sigh: and, once, the sigh sounded more like a +sob; little did they suspect what was in that silent woman's mind at +the time. +</P> + +<P> +The one object which had absorbed the attention of Iris had been the +saving of Lord Harry. This accomplished, the free exercise of her +memory had now reminded her of Arthur Mountjoy. +</P> + +<P> +It was impossible to doubt that the object of the proposed meeting at +the milestone had been to take measures for the preservation of the +young man's life. A coward is always more or less cruel. The +proceedings (equally treacherous and merciless) by which Sir Giles had +provided for his own safety, had delayed—perhaps actually +prevented—the execution of Lord Harry's humane design. It was +possible, horribly possible, that a prompt employment of time might +have been necessary to the rescue of Arthur from impending death by +murder. In the agitation that overpowered her, Iris actually hurried +the police on their return to the town. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Giles had arranged to wait for news in his private room at the +office—and there he was, with Dennis Howmore in attendance to receive +visitors. +</P> + +<P> +The Sergeant went into the banker's room alone, to make his report. He +left the door ajar; Iris could hear what passed. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you got your prisoner?" Sir Giles began. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, your honour." +</P> + +<P> +"Is the wretch securely handcuffed?" +</P> + +<P> +"I beg your pardon, sir, it isn't a man." +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense, Sergeant; it can't be a boy." +</P> + +<P> +The Sergeant confessed that it was not a boy. "It's a woman," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"What!!!" +</P> + +<P> +"A woman," the patient officer repeated—"and a young one. She asked +for You." +</P> + +<P> +"Bring her in." +</P> + +<P> +Iris was not the sort of person who waits to be brought in. She walked +in, of her own accord. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +VII +</H4> + +<P> +"GOOD Heavens!" cried Sir Giles. "Iris! With my cloak on!! With my hat +in her hand!!! Sergeant, there has been some dreadful mistake. This is +my god-daughter—Miss Henley." +</P> + +<P> +"We found her at the milestone, your honour. The young lady and nobody +else." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Giles appealed helplessly to his god-daughter. "What does this +mean?" Instead of answering, she looked at the Sergeant. The Sergeant, +conscious of responsibility, stood his ground and looked at Sir Giles. +His face confessed that the Irish sense of humour was tickled: but he +showed no intention of leaving the room. Sir Giles saw that Iris would +enter into no explanation in the man's presence. "You needn't wait any +longer," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"What am I to do, if you please, with the prisoner?" the Sergeant +inquired. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Giles waived that unnecessary question away with his hand. He was +trebly responsible—as knight, banker, and magistrate into the bargain. +"I will be answerable," he replied, "for producing Miss Henley, if +called upon. Good night." +</P> + +<P> +The Sergeant's sense of duty was satisfied. He made the military +salute. His gallantry added homage to the young lady under the form of +a bow. Then, and then only, he walked with dignity out of the room. +</P> + +<P> +"Now," Sir Giles resumed, "I presume I may expect to receive an +explanation. What does this impropriety mean? What were you doing at +the milestone?" +</P> + +<P> +"I was saving the person who made the appointment with you," Iris said; +"the poor fellow had no ill-will towards you—who had risked everything +to save your nephew's life. Oh, sir, you committed a terrible mistake +when you refused to trust that man!" +</P> + +<P> +Sir Giles had anticipated the appearance of fear, and the reality of +humble apologies. She had answered him indignantly, with a heightened +colour, and with tears in her eyes. His sense of his own social +importance was wounded to the quick. "Who is the man you are speaking +of?" he asked loftily. "And what is your excuse for having gone to the +milestone to save him—hidden under my cloak, disguised in my hat?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't waste precious time in asking questions!" was the desperate +reply. "Undo the harm that you have done already. Your help—oh, I mean +what I say!—may yet preserve Arthur's life. Go to the farm, and save +him." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Giles's anger assumed a new form, it indulged in an elaborate +mockery of respect. He took his watch from his pocket, and consulted it +satirically. "Must I make an excuse?" he asked with a clumsy assumption +of humility. +</P> + +<P> +"No! you must go." +</P> + +<P> +"Permit me to inform you, Miss Henley, that the last train started more +than two hours since." +</P> + +<P> +"What does that matter? You are rich enough to hire a train." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Giles, the actor, could endure it no longer; he dropped the mask, +and revealed Sir Giles, the man. His clerk was summoned by a peremptory +ring of the bell. "Attend Miss Henley to the house," he said. "You may +come to your senses after a night's rest," he continued, turning +sternly to Iris. "I will receive your excuses in the morning." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +In the morning, the breakfast was ready as usual at nine o'clock. Sir +Giles found himself alone at the table. +</P> + +<P> +He sent an order to one of the women-servants to knock at Miss Henley's +door. There was a long delay. The housekeeper presented herself in a +state of alarm; she had gone upstairs to make the necessary +investigation in her own person. Miss Henley was not in her room; the +maid was not in her room; the beds had not been slept in; the heavy +luggage was labelled—"To be called for from the hotel." And there was +an end of the evidence which the absent Iris had left behind her. +</P> + +<P> +Inquiries were made at the hotel. The young lady had called there, with +her maid, early on that morning. They had their travelling-bags with +them; and Miss Henley had left directions that the luggage was to be +placed under care of the landlord until her return. To what destination +she had betaken herself nobody knew. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Giles was too angry to remember what she had said to him on the +previous night, or he might have guessed at the motive which had led to +her departure. "Her father has done with her already," he said; "and I +have done with her now." The servants received orders not to admit Miss +Henley, if her audacity contemplated a return to her godfather's house. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +VIII +</H4> + +<P> +ON the afternoon of the same day, Iris arrived at the village situated +in the near neighbourhood of Arthur Mountjoy's farm. +</P> + +<P> +The infection of political excitement (otherwise the hatred of England) +had spread even to this remote place. On the steps of his little +chapel, the priest, a peasant himself, was haranguing his brethren of +the soil. An Irishman who paid his landlord was a traitor to his +country; an Irishman who asserted his free birthright in the land that +he walked on was an enlightened patriot. Such was the new law which the +reverend gentleman expounded to his attentive audience. If his brethren +there would like him to tell them how they might apply the law, this +exemplary Christian would point to the faithless Irishman, Arthur +Mountjoy. "Buy not of him, sell not to him; avoid him if he approaches +you; starve him out of the place. I might say more, boys—you know what +I mean." +</P> + +<P> +To hear the latter part of this effort of oratory, without uttering a +word of protest, was a trial of endurance under which Iris trembled. +The secondary effect of the priest's address was to root the conviction +of Arthur's danger with tenfold tenacity in her mind. After what she +had just heard, even the slightest delay in securing his safety might +be productive of deplorable results. She astonished a barefooted boy, +on the outskirts of the crowd, by a gift of sixpence, and asked her way +to the farm. The little Irishman ran on before her, eager to show the +generous lady how useful he could be. In less than half an hour, Iris +and her maid were at the door of the farm-house. No such civilised +inventions appeared as a knocker or a bell. The boy used his knuckles +instead—and ran away when he heard the lock of the door turned on the +inner side. He was afraid to be seen speaking to any living creature +who inhabited the "evicted farm." +</P> + +<P> +A decent old woman appeared, and inquired suspiciously "what the ladies +wanted." The accent in which she spoke was unmistakably English. When +Iris asked for Mr. Arthur Mountjoy the reply was: "Not at home." The +housekeeper inhospitably attempted to close the door. "Wait one +moment," Iris said. "Years have changed you; but there is something in +your face which is not quite strange to me. Are you Mrs. Lewson?" +</P> + +<P> +The woman admitted that this was her name. "But how is it that you are +a stranger to me?" she asked distrustfully. +</P> + +<P> +"If you have been long in Mr. Mountjoy's service," Iris replied, "you +may perhaps have heard him speak of Miss Henley?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Lewson's face brightened in an instant; she threw the door wide +open with a glad cry of recognition. +</P> + +<P> +"Come in, Miss, come in! Who would have thought of seeing you in this +horrible place? Yes; I was the nurse who looked after you all +three—when you and Mr. Arthur and Mr. Hugh were playfellows together." +Her eyes rested longingly on her favourite of bygone days. The +sensitive sympathies of Iris interpreted that look. She prettily +touched her cheek, inviting the nurse to kiss her. At this act of +kindness the poor old woman broke down; she apologised quaintly for her +tears: "Think, Miss, how <I>I</I> must remember that happy time—when <I>you</I> +have not forgotten it." +</P> + +<P> +Shown into the parlour, the first object which the visitor noticed was +the letter that she had written to Arthur lying unopened on the table. +</P> + +<P> +"Then he is really out of the house?" she said with a feeling of +relief. +</P> + +<P> +He had been away from the farm for a week or more. Had he received a +warning from some other quarter? and had he wisely sought refuge in +flight? The amazement in the housekeeper's face, when she heard these +questions, pleaded for a word of explanation. Iris acknowledged without +reserve the motives which had suggested her journey, and asked eagerly +if she had been mistaken in assuming that Arthur was in danger of +assassination. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Lewson shook her head. Beyond all doubt the young master was in +danger. But Miss Iris ought to have known his nature better than to +suppose that he would beat a retreat, if all the land-leaguers in +Ireland threatened him together. No! It was his bold way to laugh at +danger. He had left his farm to visit a friend in the next county; and +it was shrewdly guessed that a young lady who was staying in the house +was the attraction which had kept him so long away. "Anyhow, he means +to come back to-morrow," Mrs. Lewson said. "I wish he would think +better of it, and make his escape to England while he has the chance. +If the savages in these parts must shoot somebody, I'm here—an old +woman that can't last much longer. Let them shoot me." +</P> + +<P> +Iris asked if Arthur's safety was assured in the next county, and in +the house of his friend. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't say, Miss; I have never been to the house. He is in danger if +he persists in coming back to the farm. There are chances of shooting +him all along his road home. Oh, yes; he knows it, poor dear, as well +as I do. But, there!—men like him are such perverse creatures. He +takes his rides just as usual. No; he won't listen to an old woman like +me; and, as for friends to advise him, the only one of them that has +darkened our doors is a scamp who had better have kept away. You may +have heard tell of him. The old Earl, his wicked father, used to be +called by a bad name. And the wild young lord is his father's true +son." +</P> + +<P> +"Not Lord Harry?" Iris exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +The outbreak of agitation in her tone and manner was silently noticed +by her maid. The housekeeper did not attempt to conceal the impression +that had been produced upon her. "I hope you don't know such a vagabond +as that?" she said very seriously. "Perhaps you are thinking of his +brother—the eldest son—a respectable man, as I have been told?" +</P> + +<P> +Miss Henley passed over these questions without notice. Urged by the +interest in her lover, which was now more than ever an interest beyond +her control, she said: "Is Lord Harry in danger, on account of his +friend?" +</P> + +<P> +"He has nothing to fear from the wretches who infest our part of the +country," Mrs. Lewson replied. "Report says he's one of themselves. The +police—there's what his young lordship has to be afraid of, if all's +true that is said about him. Anyhow, when he paid his visit to my +master, he came secretly like a thief in the night. And I heard Mr. +Arthur, while they were together here in the parlour, loud in blaming +him for something that he had done. No more, Miss, of Lord Harry! I +have something particular to say to you. Suppose I promise to make you +comfortable—will you please wait here till to-morrow, and see Mr. +Arthur and speak to him? If there's a person living who can persuade +him to take better care of himself, I do believe it will be you." +</P> + +<P> +Iris readily consented to wait for Arthur Mountjoy's return. Left +together, while Mrs. Lewson was attending to her domestic duties, the +mistress noticed an appearance of pre-occupation in the maid's face. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you beginning to wish, Rhoda," she said, "that I had not brought +you to this strange place, among these wild people?" +</P> + +<P> +The maid was a quiet amiable girl, evidently in delicate health. She +smiled faintly. "I was thinking, Miss, of another nobleman besides the +one Mrs. Lewson mentioned just now, who seems to have led a reckless +life. It was printed in a newspaper that I read before we left London." +</P> + +<P> +"Was his name mentioned?" Iris asked. +</P> + +<P> +"No, Miss; I suppose they were afraid of giving offence. He tried so +many strange ways of getting a living—it was almost like reading a +story-book." +</P> + +<P> +The suppression of the name suggested a suspicion from which Iris +recoiled. Was it possible that her maid could be ignorantly alluding to +Lord Harry? +</P> + +<P> +"Do you remember this hero's adventures?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"I can try, Miss, if you wish to hear about him." +</P> + +<P> +The newspaper narrative appeared to have produced a vivid impression on +Rhoda's mind. Making allowance for natural hesitations and mistakes, +and difficulties in expressing herself correctly, she repeated with a +singularly clear recollection the substance of what she had read. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +IX +</H4> + +<P> +THE principal characters in the story were an old Irish nobleman, who +was called the Earl, and the youngest of his two sons, mysteriously +distinguished as "the wild lord." +</P> + +<P> +It was said of the Earl that he had not been a good father; he had +cruelly neglected both his sons. The younger one, badly treated at +school, and left to himself in the holidays, began his adventurous +career by running away. He got employment (under an assumed name) as a +ship's boy. At the outset, he did well; learning his work, and being +liked by the Captain and the crew. But the chief mate was a brutal man, +and the young runaway's quick temper resented the disgraceful +infliction of blows. He made up his mind to try his luck on shore, and +attached himself to a company of strolling players. Being a handsome +lad, with a good figure and a fine clear voice, he did very well for a +while on the country stage. Hard times came; salaries were reduced; the +adventurer wearied of the society of actors and actresses. His next +change of life presented him in North Britain as a journalist, employed +on a Scotch newspaper. An unfortunate love affair was the means of +depriving him of this new occupation. He was recognised, soon +afterwards, serving as assistant steward in one of the passenger +steamers voyaging between Liverpool and New York. Arrived in this last +city, he obtained notoriety, of no very respectable kind, as a "medium" +claiming powers of supernatural communication with the world of +spirits. When the imposture was ultimately discovered, he had gained +money by his unworthy appeal to the meanly prosaic superstition of +modern times. A long interval had then elapsed, and nothing had been +heard of him, when a starving man was discovered by a traveller, lost +on a Western prairie. The ill-fated Irish lord had associated himself +with an Indian tribe—had committed some offence against their +laws—and had been deliberately deserted and left to die. On his +recovery, he wrote to his elder brother (who had inherited the title +and estates on the death of the old Earl) to say that he was ashamed of +the life that he had led, and eager to make amendment by accepting any +honest employment that could be offered to him. The traveller who had +saved his life, and whose opinion was to be trusted, declared that the +letter represented a sincerely penitent state of mind. There were good +qualities in the vagabond, which only wanted a little merciful +encouragement to assert themselves. The reply that he received from +England came from the lawyers employed by the new Earl. They had +arranged with their agents in New York to pay to the younger brother a +legacy of a thousand pounds, which represented all that had been left +to him by his father's will. If he wrote again his letters would not be +answered; his brother had done with him. Treated in this inhuman +manner, the wild lord became once more worthy of his name. He tried a +new life as a betting man at races and trotting-matches. Fortune +favoured him at the outset, and he considerably increased his legacy. +With the customary infatuation of men who gain money by risking the +loss of it, he presumed on his good luck. One pecuniary disaster +followed another, and left him literally penniless. He was found again, +in England, exhibiting an open boat in which he and a companion had +made one of those foolhardy voyages across the Atlantic, which have now +happily ceased to interest the public. To a friend who remonstrated +with him, he answered that he reckoned on being lost at sea, and on so +committing a suicide worthy of the desperate life that he had led. The +last accounts of him, after this, were too vague and too contradictory +to be depended on. At one time it was reported that he had returned to +the United States. Not long afterwards unaccountable paragraphs +appeared in newspapers declaring, at one and the same time, that he was +living among bad company in Paris, and that he was hiding disreputably +in an ill famed quarter of the city of Dublin, called "the Liberties." +In any case there was good reason to fear that Irish-American +desperadoes had entangled the wild lord in the network of political +conspiracy. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The maid noticed a change in the mistress which surprised her, when she +had reached the end of the newspaper story. Of Miss Henley's customary +good spirits not a trace remained. "Few people, Rhoda, remember what +they read as well as you do." She said it kindly and sadly—and she +said no more. +</P> + +<P> +There was a reason for this. +</P> + +<P> +Now at one time, and now at another, Iris had heard of Lord Harry's +faults and failings in fragments of family history. The complete record +of his degraded life, presented in an uninterrupted succession of +events, had now forced itself on her attention for the first time. It +naturally shocked her. She felt, as she had never felt before, how +entirely right her father had been in insisting on her resistance to an +attachment which was unworthy of her. So far, but no farther, her +conscience yielded to its own conviction of what was just. But the one +unassailable vital force in this world is the force of love. It may +submit to the hard necessities of life; it may acknowledge the +imperative claims of duty; it may be silent under reproach, and +submissive to privation—but, suffer what it may, it is the +master-passion still; subject to no artificial influences, owning no +supremacy but the law of its own being. Iris was above the reach of +self-reproach, when her memory recalled the daring action which had +saved Lord Harry at the milestone. Her better sense acknowledged Hugh +Mountjoy's superiority over the other man—but her heart, her perverse +heart, remained true to its first choice in spite of her. She made an +impatient excuse and went out alone to recover her composure in the +farm-house garden. +</P> + +<P> +The hours of the evening passed slowly. +</P> + +<P> +There was a pack of cards in the house; the women tried to amuse +themselves, and failed. Anxiety about Arthur preyed on the spirits of +Miss Henley and Mrs. Lewson. Even the maid, who had only seen him +during his last visit to London, said she wished to-morrow had come and +gone. His sweet temper, his handsome face, his lively talk had made +Arthur a favourite everywhere. Mrs. Lewson had left her comfortable +English home to be his housekeeper, when he tried his rash experiment +of farming in Ireland. And, more wonderful still, even wearisome Sir +Giles became an agreeable person in his nephew's company. +</P> + +<P> +Iris set the example of retiring at an early hour to her room. +</P> + +<P> +There was something terrible in the pastoral silence of the place. It +associated itself mysteriously with her fears for Arthur; it suggested +armed treachery on tiptoe, taking its murderous stand in hiding; the +whistling passage of bullets through the air; the piercing cry of a man +mortally wounded, and that man, perhaps——? Iris shrank from her own +horrid thought. A momentary faintness overcame her; she opened the +window. As she put her head out to breathe the cool night-air, a man on +horseback rode up to the house. Was it Arthur? No: the light-coloured +groom's livery that he wore was just visible. +</P> + +<P> +Before he could dismount to knock at the door, a tall man walked up to +him out of the darkness. +</P> + +<P> +"Is that Miles?" the tall man asked. +</P> + +<P> +The groom knew the voice. Iris was even better acquainted with it. She, +too, recognised Lord Harry. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +X +</H4> + +<P> +THERE was the Irish lord at the very time when Iris was most patiently +resigned never to see him more, never to think of him as her husband +again—reminding her of the first days of their love, and of their +mutual confession of it! Fear of herself kept her behind the curtain; +while interest in Lord Harry detained her at the window in hiding. +</P> + +<P> +"All well at Rathco?" he asked—mentioning the name of the house in +which Arthur was one of the guests. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, my lord. Mr. Mountjoy leaves us to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +"Does he mean to return to the farm?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sorry I am to say it; he does mean that." +</P> + +<P> +"Has he fixed any time, Miles, for starting on his journey?" +</P> + +<P> +Miles instituted a search through his pockets, and accompanied it by an +explanation. Yes, indeed, Master Arthur had fixed a time; he had +written a note to say so to Mistress Lewson, the housekeeper; he had +said, "Drop the note at the farm, on your way to the village." And what +might Miles want at the village, in the dark? Medicine, in a hurry, for +one of his master's horses that was sick and sinking. And, speaking of +that, here, thank God, was the note! +</P> + +<P> +Iris, listening and watching alternately, saw to her surprise the note +intended for Mrs. Lewson handed to Lord Harry. "Am I expected," he +asked jocosely, "to read writing without a light?" Miles produced a +small lantern which was strapped to his groom's belt. "There's parts of +the road not over safe in the dark," he said as he raised the shade +which guarded the light. The wild lord coolly opened the letter, and +read the few careless words which it contained. "To Mrs. Lewson:—Dear +old girl, expect me back to-morrow to dinner at three o'clock. Yours, +ARTHUR." +</P> + +<P> +There was a pause. +</P> + +<P> +"Are there any strangers at Rathco?" Lord Harry asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Two new men," Miles replied, "at work in the grounds." +</P> + +<P> +There was another pause. "How can I protect him?" the young lord said, +partly to himself, partly to Miles. He suspected the two new +men—-spies probably who knew of Arthur's proposed journey home, and +who had already reported to their employers the hour at which he would +set out. +</P> + +<P> +Miles ventured to say a word: "I hope you won't be angry with me, my +lord"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Stuff and nonsense! Was I ever angry with you, when I was rich enough +to keep a servant, and when you were the man?" +</P> + +<P> +The Irish groom answered in a voice that trembled with strong feeling. +"You were the best and kindest master that ever lived on this earth. I +can't see you putting your precious life in peril"—— +</P> + +<P> +"My precious life?" Lord Harry repeated lightly. "You're thinking of +Mr. Mountjoy, when you say that. <I>His</I> life is worth saving. As for my +life"—— He ended the sentence by a whistle, as the best way he could +hit on of expressing his contempt for his own existence. +</P> + +<P> +"My lord! my lord!" Miles persisted; "the Invincibles are beginning to +doubt you. If any of them find you hanging about Mr. Mountjoy's farm, +they'll try a shot at you first, and ask afterwards whether it was +right to kill you or not." +</P> + +<P> +To hear this said—and said seriously—after the saving of him at the +milestone, was a trial of her firmness which Iris was unable to resist. +Love got the better of prudence. She drew back the window-curtain. In +another moment, she would have added her persuasion to the servant's +warning, if Lord Harry himself had not accidentally checked her by a +proceeding, on his part, for which she was not prepared. +</P> + +<P> +"Show the light," he said; "I'll write a line to Mr. Mountjoy." +</P> + +<P> +He tore off the blank page from the note to the housekeeper, and wrote +to Arthur, entreating him to change the time of his departure from +Rathco, and to tell no creature in the house, or out of the house, at +what new hour he had arranged to go. "Saddle your horse yourself," the +letter concluded. It was written in a feigned hand, without a +signature. +</P> + +<P> +"Give that to Mr. Mountjoy," Lord Harry said. "If he asks who wrote it, +don't frighten him about me by telling the truth. Lie, Miles! Say you +don't know." He next returned the note for Mrs. Lewson. "If she notices +that it has been opened," he resumed, "and asks who has done it, lie +again. Good-night, Miles—and mind those dangerous places on your road +home." +</P> + +<P> +The groom darkened his lantern; and the wild lord was lost to view, +round the side of the house. +</P> + +<P> +Left by himself, Miles rapped at the door with the handle of his whip. +"A letter from Mr. Arthur," he called out. Mrs. Lewson at once took the +note, and examined it by the light of the candle on the hall-table. +"Somebody has been reading this!" she exclaimed, stepping out to the +groom, and showing him the torn envelope. Miles, promptly obeying his +instructions, declared that he knew nothing about it, and rode away. +</P> + +<P> +Iris descended the stairs, and joined Mrs. Lewson in the hall before +she had closed the door. The housekeeper at once produced Arthur's +letter. +</P> + +<P> +"It's on my mind, Miss," she said, "to write an answer, and say +something to Mr. Arthur which will persuade him to take care of +himself, on his way back to the farm. The difficulty is, how am I to +express it? You would be doing a kind thing if you would give me a word +of advice." +</P> + +<P> +Iris willingly complied. A second note, from the anxious housekeeper, +might help the effect of the few lines which Lord Harry had written. +</P> + +<P> +Arthur's letter informed Iris that he had arranged to return at three +o'clock. Lord Harry's question to the groom, and the man's reply, +instantly recurred to her memory: "Are there any strangers at +Rathco?"—"Two new men at work in the grounds." Arriving at the same +conclusion which had already occurred to Lord Harry, Iris advised the +housekeeper, in writing to Arthur, to entreat him to change the hour, +secretly, at which he left his friend's house on the next day. Warmly +approving of this idea, Mrs. Lewson hurried into the parlour to write +her letter. "Don't go to bed yet, Miss," she said; "I want you to read +it before I send it away the first thing to-morrow morning." +</P> + +<P> +Left alone in the hall, with the door open before her, Iris looked out +on the night, thinking. +</P> + +<P> +The lives of the two men in whom she was interested—in widely +different ways—were now both threatened; and the imminent danger, at +that moment, was the danger of Lord Harry. He was an outlaw whose +character would not bear investigation; but, to give him his due, there +was no risk which he was not ready to confront for Arthur's sake. If he +was still recklessly lingering, on the watch for assassins in the +dangerous neighbourhood of the farm, who but herself possessed the +influence which would prevail on him to leave the place? She had joined +Mrs. Lewson at the door with that conviction in her mind. In another +instant, she was out of the house, and beginning her search in the +dark. +</P> + +<P> +Iris made the round of the building; sometimes feeling her way in +obscure places; sometimes calling to Lord Harry cautiously by his name. +No living creature appeared; no sound of a movement disturbed the +stillness of the night. The discovery of his absence, which she had not +dared to hope for, was the cheering discovery which she had now made. +</P> + +<P> +On her way back to the house, she became conscious of the rashness of +the act into which her own generous impulse had betrayed her. +</P> + +<P> +If she and Lord Harry had met, could she have denied the tender +interest in him which her own conduct would then have revealed? Would +he not have been justified in concluding that she had pardoned the +errors and the vices of his life, and that he might without impropriety +remind her of their engagement, and claim her hand in marriage? She +trembled as she thought of the concessions which he might have wrung +from her. "Never more," she determined, "shall my own folly be +answerable for it, if he and I meet again." +</P> + +<P> +She had returned to Mrs. Lewson, and had read over the letter to +Arthur, when the farm clock, striking the hour, reminded them that it +was time to retire. They slept badly that night. +</P> + +<P> +At six in the morning, one of the two labourers who had remained +faithful to Arthur was sent away on horseback with the housekeeper's +reply, and with orders to wait for an answer. Allowing time for giving +the horse a rest, the man might be expected to return before noon. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +IX +</H4> + +<P> +IT was a fine sunshiny day; Mrs. Lewson's spirits began to improve. "I +have always held the belief," the worthy old woman confessed, "that +bright weather brings good luck—of course provided the day is not a +Friday. This is Wednesday. Cheer up, Miss." +</P> + +<P> +The messenger returned with good news. Mr. Arthur had been as merry as +usual. He had made fun of another letter of good advice, received +without a signature. "But Mrs. Lewson must have her way," he said. "My +love to the old dear—I'll start two hours later, and be back to dinner +at five." +</P> + +<P> +"Where did Mr. Arthur give you that message?" Iris inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"At the stables, Miss, while I was putting up the horse. The men about +were all on the broad grin when they heard Mr. Arthur's message." +</P> + +<P> +Still in a morbid state of mind, Iris silently regretted that the +message had not been written, instead of being delivered by word of +mouth. Here, again, she (like the wild lord) had been afraid of +listeners. +</P> + +<P> +The hours wore slowly on until it was past four o'clock. Iris could +endure the suspense no longer. "It's a lovely afternoon," she said to +Mrs. Lewson. "Let us take a walk along the road, and meet Arthur." To +this proposal the housekeeper readily agreed. +</P> + +<P> +It was nearly five o'clock when they reached a place at which a by-road +branched off, through a wood, from the highway which they had hitherto +followed. Mrs. Lewson found a seat on a felled tree. "We had better not +go any farther," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Iris asked if there was any reason for this. +</P> + +<P> +There was an excellent reason. A few yards farther on, the high road +had been diverted from the straight line (in the interest of a large +agricultural village), and was then directed again into its former +course. The by-road through the wood served as a short cut, for +horsemen and pedestrians, from one divergent point to the other. It was +next to a certainty that Arthur would return by the short cut. But if +accident or caprice led to his preferring the highway, it was clearly +necessary to wait for him within view of both the roads. +</P> + +<P> +Too restless to submit to a state of passive expectation, Iris proposed +to follow the bridle path through the wood for a little way, and to +return if she failed to see anything of Arthur. "You are tired," she +said kindly to her companion: "pray don't move." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Lewson looked needlessly uneasy: "You might lose yourself, Miss. +Mind you keep to the path!" +</P> + +<P> +Iris followed the pleasant windings of the woodland track. In the hope +of meeting Arthur she considerably extended the length of her walk. The +white line of the high road, as it passed the farther end of the wood, +showed itself through the trees. She turned at once to rejoin Mrs. +Lewson. +</P> + +<P> +On her way back she made a discovery. A ruin which she had not +previously noticed showed itself among the trees on her left hand. Her +curiosity was excited; she strayed aside to examine it more closely. +The crumbling walls, as she approached them, looked like the remains of +an ordinary dwelling-house. Age is essential to the picturesque effect +of decay: a modern ruin is an unnatural and depressing object—and here +the horrid thing was. +</P> + +<P> +As she turned to retrace her steps to the road, a man walked out of the +inner space enclosed by all that was left of the dismantled house. A +cry of alarm escaped her. Was she the victim of destiny, or the sport +of chance? There was the wild lord whom she had vowed never to see +again: the master of her heart—perhaps the master of her fate! +</P> + +<P> +Any other man would have been amazed to see her, and would have asked +how it had happened that the English lady presented herself to him in +an Irish wood. This man enjoyed the delight of seeing her, and accepted +it as a blessing that was not to be questioned. "My angel has dropped +from Heaven," he said. "May Heaven be praised!" +</P> + +<P> +He approached her; his arms closed round her. She struggled to free +herself from his embrace. At that moment they both heard the crackle of +breaking underwood among the trees behind them. Lord Harry looked +round. "This is a dangerous place," he whispered; "I'm waiting to see +Arthur pass safely. Submit to be kissed, or I am a dead man." His eyes +told her that he was truly and fearfully in earnest. Her head sank on +his bosom. As he bent down and kissed her, three men approached from +their hiding-place among the trees. They had no doubt been watching +him, under orders from the murderous brotherhood to which they +belonged. Their pistols were ready in their hands—and what discovery +had they made? There was the brother who had been denounced as having +betrayed them, guilty of no worse treason than meeting his sweetheart +in a wood! "We beg your pardon, my lord," they cried, with a thoroughly +Irish enjoyment of their own discomfiture—and burst into a roar of +laughter—and left the lovers together. For the second time, Iris had +saved Lord Harry at a crisis in his life. +</P> + +<P> +"Let me go!" she pleaded faintly, trembling with superstitious fear for +the first time in her experience of herself. +</P> + +<P> +He held her to him as if he would never let her go again. "Oh, my +Sweet, give me a last chance. Help me to be a better man! You have only +to will it, Iris, and to make me worthy of you." +</P> + +<P> +His arms suddenly trembled round her, and dropped. The silence was +broken by a distant sound, like the report of a shot. He looked towards +the farther end of the wood. In a minute more, the thump of a horse's +hoofs at a gallop was audible, where the bridlepath was hidden among +the trees. It came nearer—nearer—-the creature burst into view, wild +with fright, and carrying an empty saddle. Lord Harry rushed into the +path and seized the horse as it swerved at the sight of him. There was +a leather pocket attached to the front of the saddle. "Search it!" he +cried to Iris, forcing the terrified animal back on its haunches. She +drew out a silver travelling-flask. One glance at the name engraved on +it told him the terrible truth. His trembling hands lost their hold. +The horse escaped; the words burst from his lips: +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, God, they've killed him!" +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE END OF THE PROLOGUE +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THE STORY +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +FIRST PERIOD +</H3> + +<BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE SOUR FRENCH WINE +</H3> + +<P> +WHILE the line to be taken by the new railway between Culm and Everill +was still under discussion, the engineer caused some difference of +opinion among the moneyed men who were the first Directors of the +Company, by asking if they proposed to include among their Stations the +little old town of Honeybuzzard. +</P> + +<P> +For years past, commerce had declined, and population had decreased in +this ancient and curious place. Painters knew it well, and prized its +mediaeval houses as a mine of valuable material for their art. Persons +of cultivated tastes, who were interested in church architecture of the +fourteenth century, sometimes pleased and flattered the Rector by +subscribing to his fund for the restoration of the tower, and the +removal of the accumulated rubbish of hundreds of years from the crypt. +Small speculators, not otherwise in a state of insanity, settled +themselves in the town, and tried the desperate experiment of opening a +shop; spent their little capital, put up the shutters, and disappeared. +The old market-place still showed its list of market-law's, issued by +the Mayor and Corporation in the prosperous bygone times; and every +week there were fewer and fewer people to obey the laws. The great +empty enclosure looked more cheerful, when there was no market held, +and when the boys of the town played in the deserted place. In the last +warehouse left in a state of repair, the crane was generally idle; the +windows were mostly shut up; and a solitary man represented languishing +trade, idling at a half-opened door. The muddy river rose and fell with +the distant tide. At rare intervals a collier discharged its cargo on +the mouldering quay, or an empty barge took in a load of hay. One bold +house advertised, in a dirty window, apartments to let. There was a +lawyer in the town, who had no occasion to keep a clerk; and there was +a doctor who hoped to sell his practice for anything that it would +fetch. The directors of the new railway, after a stormy meeting, +decided on offering (by means of a Station) a last chance of revival to +the dying town. The town had not vitality enough left to be grateful; +the railway stimulant produced no effect. Of all his colleagues in +Great Britain and Ireland, the station-master at Honeybuzzard was the +idlest man—and this, as he said to the unemployed porter, through no +want of energy on his own part. +</P> + +<P> +Late on a rainy autumn afternoon, the slow train left one traveller at +the Station. He got out of a first-class carriage; he carried an +umbrella and a travelling-bag; and he asked his way to the best inn. +The station-master and the porter compared notes. One of them said: +"Evidently a gentleman." The other added: "What can he possibly want +here?" +</P> + +<P> +The stranger twice lost his way in the tortuous old streets of the town +before he reached the inn. On giving his orders, it appeared that he +wanted three things: a private room, something to eat, and, while the +dinner was being cooked, materials for writing a letter. +</P> + +<P> +Answering her daughter's questions downstairs, the landlady described +her guest as a nice-looking man dressed in deep mourning. "Young, my +dear, with beautiful dark brown hair, and a grand beard, and a sweet +sorrowful look. Ah, his eyes would tell anybody that his black clothes +are not a mere sham. Whether married or single, of course I can't say. +But I noticed the name on his travelling-bag. A distinguished name in +my opinion—Hugh Mountjoy. I wonder what he'll order to drink when he +has his dinner? What a mercy it will be if we can get rid of another +bottle of the sour French wine!" +</P> + +<P> +The bell in the private room rang at that moment; and the landlady's +daughter, it is needless to say, took the opportunity of forming her +own opinion of Mr. Hugh Mountjoy. +</P> + +<P> +She returned with a letter in her hand, consumed by a vain longing for +the advantages of gentle birth. "Ah, mother, if I was a young lady of +the higher classes, I know whose wife I should like to be!" Not +particularly interested in sentimental aspirations, the landlady asked +to see Mr. Mountjoy's letter. The messenger who delivered it was to +wait for an answer. It was addressed to: "Miss Henley, care of Clarence +Vimpany, Esquire, Honeybuzzard." Urged by an excited imagination, the +daughter longed to see Miss Henley. The mother was at a loss to +understand why Mr. Mountjoy should have troubled himself to write the +letter at all. "If he knows the young lady who is staying at the +doctor's house," she said, "why doesn't he call on Miss Henley?" She +handed the letter back to her daughter. "There! let the ostler take it; +he's got nothing to do." +</P> + +<P> +"No, mother. The ostler's dirty hands mustn't touch it—I'll take the +letter myself. Perhaps I may see Miss Henley." Such was the impression +which Mr. Hugh Mountjoy had innocently produced on a sensitive young +person, condemned by destiny to the barren sphere of action afforded by +a country inn! +</P> + +<P> +The landlady herself took the dinner upstairs—a first course of mutton +chops and potatoes, cooked to a degree of imperfection only attained in +an English kitchen. The sour French wine was still on the good woman's +mind. "What would you choose to drink, sir?" she asked. Mr. Mountjoy +seemed to feel no interest in what he might have to drink. "We have +some French wine, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, ma'am; that will do." +</P> + +<P> +When the bell rang again, and the time came to produce the second +course of cheese and celery, the landlady allowed the waiter to take +her place. Her experience of the farmers who frequented the inn, and +who had in some few cases been induced to taste the wine, warned her to +anticipate an outbreak of just anger from Mr. Mountjoy. He, like the +others, would probably ask what she "meant by poisoning him with such +stuff as that." On the return of the waiter, she put the question: "Did +the gentleman complain of the French wine?" +</P> + +<P> +"He wants to see you about it, ma'am." +</P> + +<P> +The landlady turned pale. The expression of Mr. Mountjoy's indignation +was evidently reserved for the mistress of the house. "Did he swear," +she asked, "when he tasted it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Lord bless you, ma'am, no! Drank it out of a tumbler, and—if you will +believe me—actually seemed to like it." +</P> + +<P> +The landlady recovered her colour. Gratitude to Providence for having +sent a customer to the inn, who could drink sour wine without +discovering it, was the uppermost feeling in her ample bosom as she +entered the private room. Mr. Mountjoy justified her anticipations. He +was simple enough—with his tumbler before him, and the wine as it were +under his nose—to begin with an apology. +</P> + +<P> +"I am sorry to trouble you, ma'am. May I ask where you got this wine?" +</P> + +<P> +"The wine, sir, was one of my late husband's bad debts. It was all he +could get from a Frenchman who owed him money." +</P> + +<P> +"It's worth money, ma'am." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, indeed. This is some of the finest and purest claret that I have +tasted for many a long day past." +</P> + +<P> +An alarming suspicion disturbed the serenity of the landlady's mind. +Was his extraordinary opinion of the wine sincere? Or was it Mr. +Mountjoy's wicked design to entrap her into praising her claret and +then to imply that she was a cheat by declaring what he really thought +of it? She took refuge in a cautious reply: +</P> + +<P> +"You are the first gentleman, sir, who has not found fault with it." +</P> + +<P> +"In that case, perhaps you would like to get rid of the wine?" Mr. +Mountjoy suggested. +</P> + +<P> +The landlady was still cautious. "Who will buy it of me, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +"I will. How much do you charge for it by the bottle?" +</P> + +<P> +It was, by this time, clear that he was not mischievous—only a little +crazy. The worldly-wise hostess took advantage of that circumstance to +double the price. Without hesitation, she said: "Five shillings a +bottle, sir." +</P> + +<P> +Often, too often, the irony of circumstances brings together, on this +earthly scene, the opposite types of vice and virtue. A lying landlady +and a guest incapable of deceit were looking at each other across a +narrow table; equally unconscious of the immeasurable moral gulf that +lay between them, Influenced by honourable feeling, innocent Hugh +Mountjoy lashed the landlady's greed for money to the full-gallop of +human cupidity. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think you are aware of the value of your wine," he said. "I +have claret in my cellar which is not so good as this, and which costs +more than you have asked. It is only fair to offer you seven-and-sixpence +a bottle." +</P> + +<P> +When an eccentric traveller is asked to pay a price, and deliberately +raises that price against himself, where is the sensible +woman—especially if she happens to be a widow conducting an +unprofitable business—who would hesitate to improve the opportunity? +The greedy landlady raised her terms. +</P> + +<P> +"On reflection, sir, I think I ought to have ten shillings a bottle, if +you please." +</P> + +<P> +"The wine may be worth it," Mountjoy answered quietly; "but it is more +than I can afford to pay. No, ma'am; I will leave you to find some +lover of good claret with a longer purse than mine." +</P> + +<P> +It was in this man's character, when he said No, to mean No. Mr. +Mountjoy's hostess perceived that her crazy customer was not to be +trifled with. She lowered her terms again with the headlong hurry of +terror. "You shall have it, Sir, at your own price," said this entirely +shameless and perfectly respectable woman. +</P> + +<P> +The bargain having been closed under these circumstances, the +landlady's daughter knocked at the door. "I took your letter myself, +sir," she said modestly; "and here is the answer." (She had seen Miss +Henley, and did not think much of her.) Mountjoy offered the expression +of his thanks, in words never to be forgotten by a sensitive young +person, and opened his letter. It was short enough to be read in a +moment; but it was evidently a favourable reply. He took his hat in a +hurry, and asked to be shown the way to Mr. Vimpany's house. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE MAN SHE REFUSED +</H3> + +<P> +MOUNTJOY had decided on travelling to Honeybuzzard, as soon as he heard +that Miss Henley was staying with strangers in that town. Having had no +earlier opportunity of preparing her to see him, he had considerately +written to her from the inn, in preference to presenting himself +unexpectedly at the doctor's house. How would she receive the devoted +friend, whose proposal of marriage she had refused for the second time, +when they had last met in London? +</P> + +<P> +The doctor's place of residence, situated in a solitary by-street, +commanded a view, not perhaps encouraging to a gentleman who followed +the medical profession: it was a view of the churchyard. The door was +opened by a woman-servant, who looked suspiciously at the stranger. +Without waiting to be questioned, she said her master was out. Mountjoy +mentioned his name, and asked for Miss Henley. +</P> + +<P> +The servant's manner altered at once for the better; she showed him +into a small drawing-room, scantily and cheaply furnished. Some +poorly-framed prints on the walls (a little out of place perhaps in a +doctor's house) represented portraits of famous actresses, who had been +queens of the stage in the early part of the present century. The few +books, too, collected on a little shelf above the chimney-piece, were +in every case specimens of dramatic literature. "Who reads these +plays?" Mountjoy asked himself. "And how did Iris find her way into +this house?" +</P> + +<P> +While he was thinking of her, Miss Henley entered the room. +</P> + +<P> +Her face was pale and careworn; tears dimmed her eyes when Mountjoy +advanced to meet her. In his presence, the horror of his brother's +death by assassination shook Iris as it had not shaken her yet. +Impulsively, she drew his head down to her, with the fond familiarity +of a sister, and kissed his forehead. "Oh, Hugh, I know how you and +Arthur loved each other! No words of mine can say how I feel for you." +</P> + +<P> +"No words are wanted, my dear," he answered tenderly. "Your sympathy +speaks for itself." +</P> + +<P> +He led her to the sofa and seated himself by her side. "Your father has +shown me what you have written to him," he resumed; "your letter from +Dublin and your second letter from this place. I know what you have so +nobly risked and suffered in poor Arthur's interests. It will be some +consolation to me if I can make a return—a very poor return, Iris—for +all that Arthur's brother owes to the truest friend that ever man had. +No," he continued, gently interrupting the expression of her gratitude. +"Your father has not sent me here—but he knows that I have left London +for the express purpose of seeing you, and he knows why. You have +written to him dutifully and affectionately; you have pleaded for +pardon and reconciliation, when he is to blame. Shall I venture to tell +you how he answered me, when I asked if he had no faith left in his own +child? 'Hugh,' he said, 'you are wasting words on a man whose mind is +made up. I will trust my daughter when that Irish lord is laid in his +grave—not before.' That is a reflection on you, Iris, which I cannot +permit, even when your father casts it. He is hard, he is unforgiving; +but he must, and shall, be conquered yet. I mean to make him do you +justice; I have come here with that purpose, and that purpose only, in +view. May I speak to you of Lord Harry?" +</P> + +<P> +"How can you doubt it!" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, this is a delicate subject for me to enter on." +</P> + +<P> +"And a shameful subject for me!" Iris broke out bitterly. "Hugh! you +are an angel, by comparison with that man—how debased I must be to +love him—how unworthy of your good opinion! Ask me anything you like; +have no mercy on me. Oh," she cried, with reckless contempt for +herself, "why don't you beat me? I deserve it!" +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy was well enough acquainted with the natures of women to pass +over that passionate outbreak, instead of fanning the flame in her by +reasoning and remonstrance. +</P> + +<P> +"Your father will not listen to the expression of feeling," he +continued; "but it is possible to rouse his sense of justice by the +expression of facts. Help me to speak to him more plainly of Lord Harry +than you could speak in your letters. I want to know what has happened, +from the time when events at Ardoon brought you and the young lord +together again, to the time when you left him in Ireland after my +brother's death. If I seem to expect too much of you, Iris, pray +remember that I am speaking with a true regard for your interests." +</P> + +<P> +In those words, he made his generous appeal to her. She proved herself +to be worthy of it. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Stated briefly, the retrospect began with the mysterious anonymous +letters which had been addressed to Sir Giles. +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry's explanation had been offered to Iris gratefully, but with +some reserve, after she had told him who the stranger at the milestone +really was. "I entreat you to pardon me, if I shrink from entering into +particulars," he had said. "Circumstances, at the time, amply justified +me in the attempt to use the banker's political influence as a means of +securing Arthur's safety. I knew enough of Sir Giles's mean nature to +be careful in trusting him; but I did hope to try what my personal +influence might do. If he had possessed a tenth part of your courage, +Arthur might have been alive, and safe in England, at this moment. I +can't say any more; I daren't say any more; it maddens me when I think +of it!" He abruptly changed the subject, and interested Iris by +speaking of other and later events. His association with the +Invincibles—inexcusably rash and wicked as he himself confessed it to +be—had enabled him to penetrate, and for a time to defeat secretly, +the murderous designs of the brotherhood. His appearances, first at the +farmhouse and afterwards at the ruin in the wood were referable to +changes in the plans of the assassins which had come to his knowledge. +When Iris had met with him he was on the watch, believing that his +friend would take the short way back through the wood, and well aware +that his own life might pay the penalty if he succeeded in warning +Arthur. After the terrible discovery of the murder (committed on the +high road), and the escape of the miscreant who had been guilty of the +crime, the parting of Lord Harry and Miss Henley had been the next +event. She had left him, on her return to England, and had refused to +consent to any of the future meetings between them which he besought +her to grant. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +At this stage in the narrative, Mountjoy felt compelled to ask +questions more searching than he had put to Iris yet. It was possible +that she might be trusting her own impressions of Lord Harry, with the +ill-placed confidence of a woman innocently self-deceived. +</P> + +<P> +"Did he submit willingly to your leaving him?" Mountjoy said. +</P> + +<P> +"Not at first," she replied. +</P> + +<P> +"Has he released you from that rash engagement, of some years since, +which pledged you to marry him?" +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"Did he allude to the engagement, on this occasion?" +</P> + +<P> +"He said he held to it as the one hope of his life." +</P> + +<P> +"And what did you say?" +</P> + +<P> +"I implored him not to distress me." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you say nothing more positive than that?" +</P> + +<P> +"I couldn't help thinking, Hugh, of all that he had tried to do to save +Arthur. But I insisted on leaving him—and I have left him." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you remember what he said at parting?" +</P> + +<P> +"He said, 'While I live, I love you.'" +</P> + +<P> +As she repeated the words, there was an involuntary change to +tenderness in her voice which was not lost on Mountjoy. +</P> + +<P> +"I must be sure," he said to her gravely, "of what I tell your father +when I go back to him. Can I declare, with a safe conscience, that you +will never see Lord Harry again?" +</P> + +<P> +"My mind is made up never to see him again." She had answered firmly so +far. Her next words were spoken with hesitation, in tones that +faltered. "But I am sometimes afraid," she said, "that the decision may +not rest with me." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"I would rather not tell you." +</P> + +<P> +"That is a strange answer, Iris." +</P> + +<P> +"I value your good opinion, Hugh, and I am afraid of losing it." +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing has ever altered my opinion of you," he replied, "and nothing +ever will." +</P> + +<P> +She looked at him anxiously, with the closest attention. Little by +little, the expression of doubt in her face disappeared; she knew how +he loved her—she resolved to trust him. +</P> + +<P> +"My friend," she began abruptly, "education has done nothing for me. +Since I left Ireland, I have sunk (I don't know how or why) into a +state of superstitious fear. Yes! I believe in a fatality which is +leading me back to Lord Harry, in spite of myself. Twice already, since +I left home, I have met with him; and each time I have been the means +of saving him—once at the milestone, and once at the ruin in the wood. +If my father still accuses me of being in love with an adventurer, you +can say with perfect truth that I am afraid of him. I <I>am</I> afraid of +the third meeting. I have done my best to escape from that man; and, +step by step, as I think I am getting away, Destiny is taking me back +to him. I may be on my way to him here, hidden in this wretched little +town. Oh, don't despise me! Don't be ashamed of me!" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, I am interested—deeply interested in you. That there may be +some such influence as Destiny in our poor mortal lives, I dare not +deny. But I don't agree with your conclusion. What Destiny has to do +with you and with me, neither you nor I can pretend to know beforehand. +In the presence of that great mystery, humanity must submit to be +ignorant. Wait, Iris—wait!" +</P> + +<P> +She answered him with the simplicity of a docile child: "I will do +anything you tell me." +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy was too fond of her to say more of Lord Harry, for that day. +He was careful to lead the talk to a topic which might be trusted to +provoke no agitating thoughts. Finding Iris to all appearance +established in the doctor's house, he was naturally anxious to know +something of the person who must have invited her—the doctor's wife. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE REGISTERED PACKET +</H3> + +<P> +MOUNTJOY began by alluding to the second of Miss Henley's letters to +her father, and to a passage in it which mentioned Mrs. Vimpany with +expressions of the sincerest gratitude. +</P> + +<P> +"I should like to know more," he said, "of a lady whose hospitality at +home seems to equal her kindness as a fellow-traveller. Did you first +meet with her on the railway?" +</P> + +<P> +"She travelled by the same train to Dublin, with me and my maid, but +not in the same carriage," Iris answered; "I was so fortunate as to +meet with her on the voyage from Dublin to Holyhead. We had a rough +crossing; and Rhoda suffered so dreadfully from sea-sickness that she +frightened me. The stewardess was attending to ladies who were calling +for her in all directions; I really don't know what misfortune might +not have happened, if Mrs. Vimpany had not come forward in the kindest +manner, and offered help. She knew so wonderfully well what was to be +done, that she astonished me. 'I am the wife of a doctor,' she said; +'and I am only imitating what I have seen my husband do, when his +assistance has been required, at sea, in weather like this.' In her +poor state of health, Rhoda was too much exhausted to go on by the +train, when we got to Holyhead. She is the best of good girls, and I am +fond of her, as you know. If I had been by myself, I daresay I should +have sent for medical help. What do you think dear Mrs. Vimpany offered +to do? 'Your maid is only faint,' she said. 'Give her rest and some +iced wine, and she will be well enough to go on by the slow train. +Don't be frightened about her; I will wait with you.' And she did wait. +Are there many strangers, Hugh, who are as unselfishly good to others +as my chance-acquaintance in the steamboat?" +</P> + +<P> +"Very few, I am afraid." +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy made that reply with some little embarrassment; conscious of a +doubt of Mrs. Vimpany's disinterested kindness, which seemed to be +unworthy of a just man. +</P> + +<P> +Iris went on. +</P> + +<P> +"Rhoda was sufficiently recovered," she said, "to travel by the next +train, and there seemed to be no reason for feeling any more anxiety. +But, after a time, the fatigue of the journey proved to be too much for +her. The poor girl turned pale—and fainted. Mrs. Vimpany revived her, +but as it turned out, only for a while. She fell into another fainting +fit; and my travelling-companion began to look anxious. There was some +difficulty in restoring Rhoda to her senses. In dread of another +attack, I determined to stop at the next station. It looked such a poor +place, when we got to it, that I hesitated. Mrs. Vimpany persuaded me +to go on. The next station, she said, was <I>her</I> station. 'Stop there,' +she suggested, 'and let my husband look at the girl. I ought not +perhaps to say it, but you will find no better medical man out of +London.' I took the good creature's advice gratefully. What else could +I do?" +</P> + +<P> +"What would you have done," Mountjoy inquired, "if Rhoda had been +strong enough to get to the end of the journey?" +</P> + +<P> +"I should have gone on to London, and taken refuge in a lodging—you +were in town, as I believed, and my father might relent in time. As it +was, I felt my lonely position keenly. To meet with kind people, like +Mr. Vimpany and his wife, was a real blessing to such a friendless +creature as I am—to say nothing of the advantage to Rhoda, who is +getting better every day. I should like you to see Mrs. Vimpany, if she +is at home. She is a little formal and old fashioned in her manner—but +I am sure you will be pleased with her. Ah! you look round the room! +They are poor, miserably poor for persons in their position, these +worthy friends of mine. I have had the greatest difficulty in +persuading them to let me contribute my share towards the household +expenses. They only yielded when I threatened to go to the inn. You are +looking very serious, Hugh. Is it possible that you see some objection +to my staying in this house?" +</P> + +<P> +The drawing-room door was softly opened, at the moment when Iris put +that question. A lady appeared on the threshold. Seeing the stranger, +she turned to Iris. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't know, dear Miss Henley, that you had a visitor. Pray pardon +my intrusion." +</P> + +<P> +The voice was deep; the articulation was clear; the smile presented a +certain modest dignity which gave it a value of its own. This was a +woman who could make such a commonplace thing as an apology worth +listening to. Iris stopped her as she was about to leave the room. "I +was just wishing for you," she said. "Let me introduce my old friend, +Mr. Mountjoy. Hugh, this is the lady who has been so kind to me—Mrs. +Vimpany." +</P> + +<P> +Hugh's impulse, under the circumstances, was to dispense with the +formality of a bow, and to shake hands. Mrs. Vimpany met this friendly +advance with a suavity of action, not often seen in these days of +movement without ceremony. She was a tall slim woman, of a certain age. +Art had so cleverly improved her complexion that it almost looked like +nature. Her cheeks had lost the plumpness of youth, but her hair +(thanks again perhaps to Art) showed no signs of turning grey. The +expression of her large dark eyes—placed perhaps a little too near her +high aquiline nose—claimed admiration from any person who was so +fortunate as to come within their range of view. Her hands, long, +yellow, and pitiably thin, were used with a grace which checked to some +extent their cruel betrayal of her age. Her dress had seen better days, +but it was worn with an air which forbade it to look actually shabby. +The faded lace that encircled her neck fell in scanty folds over her +bosom. She sank into a chair by Hugh's side. "It was a great pleasure +to me, Mr. Mountjoy, to offer my poor services to Miss Henley; I can't +tell you how happy her presence makes me in our little house." The +compliment was addressed to Iris with every advantage that smiles and +tones could offer. Oddly artificial as it undoubtedly was, Mrs. +Vimpany's manner produced nevertheless an agreeable impression. +Disposed to doubt her at first, Mountjoy found that she was winning her +way to a favourable change in his opinion. She so far interested him, +that he began to wonder what her early life might have been, when she +was young and handsome. He looked again at the portraits of actresses +on the walls, and the plays on the bookshelf—and then (when she was +speaking to Iris) he stole a sly glance at the doctor's wife. Was it +possible that this remarkable woman had once been an actress? He +attempted to put the value of that guess to the test by means of a +complimentary allusion to the prints. +</P> + +<P> +"My memory as a playgoer doesn't extend over many years," he began; +"but I can appreciate the historical interest of your beautiful +prints." Mrs. Vimpany bowed gracefully—and dumbly. Mountjoy tried +again. "One doesn't often see the famous actresses of past days," he +proceeded, "so well represented on the walls of an English house." +</P> + +<P> +This time, he had spoken to better purpose. Mrs. Vimpany answered him +in words. +</P> + +<P> +"I have many pleasant associations with the theatre," she said, "first +formed in the time of my girlhood." +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy waited to hear something more. Nothing more was said. Perhaps +this reticent lady disliked looking back through a long interval of +years, or perhaps she had her reasons for leaving Mountjoy's guess at +the truth still lost in doubt. In either case, she deliberately dropped +the subject. Iris took it up. Sitting by the only table in the room, +she was in a position which placed her exactly opposite to one of the +prints—the magnificent portrait of Mrs. Siddons as The Tragic Muse. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder if Mrs. Siddons was really as beautiful as that?" she said, +pointing to the print. "Sir Joshua Reynolds is reported to have +sometimes flattered his sitters." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany's solemn self-possessed eyes suddenly brightened; the name +of the great actress seemed to interest her. On the point, apparently, +of speaking, she dropped the subject of Mrs. Siddons as she had dropped +the subject of the theatre. Mountjoy was left to answer Iris. +</P> + +<P> +"We are none of us old enough," he reminded her, "to decide whether Sir +Joshua's brush has been guilty of flattery or not." He turned to Mrs. +Vimpany, and attempted to look into her life from a new point of view. +"When Miss Henley was so fortunate as to make your acquaintance," he +said, "you were travelling in Ireland. Was it your first visit to that +unhappy country?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have been more than once in Ireland." +</P> + +<P> +Having again deliberately disappointed Mountjoy, she was assisted in +keeping clear of the subject of Ireland by a fortunate interruption. It +was the hour of delivery by the afternoon-post. The servant came in +with a small sealed packet, and a slip of printed paper in her hand. +</P> + +<P> +"It's registered, ma'am," the woman announced. "The postman says you +are to please sign this. And he seems to be in a hurry." +</P> + +<P> +She placed the packet and the slip of paper on the table, near the +inkstand. Having signed the receipt, Mrs. Vimpany took up the packet, +and examined the address. She instantly looked at Iris, and looked away +again. "Will you excuse me for a moment?" saying this she left the +room, without opening the packet. +</P> + +<P> +The moment the door closed on her, Iris started up, and hurried to +Mountjoy. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Hugh," she said, "I saw the address on that packet when the +servant put it on the table!" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, what is there to excite you in the address?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't speak so loud! She may be listening outside the door." +</P> + +<P> +Not only the words, but the tone in which they were spoken, amazed +Mountjoy. "Your friend, Mrs. Vimpany!" he exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. Vimpany was afraid to open the packet in our presence," Iris went +on: "you must have seen that. The handwriting is familiar to me; I am +certain of the person who wrote the address." +</P> + +<P> +"Well? And who is the person?" +</P> + +<P> +She whispered in his ear: +</P> + +<P> +"Lord Harry." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE GAME: MOUNTJOY LOSES +</H3> + +<P> +SURPRISE silenced Hugh for the moment. Iris understood the look that he +fixed on her, and answered it. "I am quite sure," she told him, "of +what I say." +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy's well-balanced mind hesitated at rushing to a conclusion. +</P> + +<P> +"I am sure you are convinced of what you tell me," he said. "But +mistakes do sometimes happen in forming a judgment of handwriting." +</P> + +<P> +In the state of excitement that now possessed her, Iris was easily +irritated; she was angry with Hugh for only supposing that she might +have made a mistake. He had himself, as she reminded him, seen Lord +Harry's handwriting in past days. Was it possible to be mistaken in +those bold thickly-written characters, with some of the letters so +quaintly formed? "Oh, Hugh, I am miserable enough as it is," she broke +out; "don't distract me by disputing what I know! Think of a woman so +kind, so disinterested, so charming—the very opposite of a false +creature—think of Mrs. Vimpany having deceived me!" +</P> + +<P> +There was not the slightest reason, thus far, for placing that +interpretation on what had happened. Mountjoy gently, very gently, +remonstrated. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, we really don't know yet that Mrs. Vimpany has been acting +under Lord Harry's instructions. Wait a little before you suspect your +fellow-traveller of offering her services for the purpose of deceiving +you." +</P> + +<P> +Iris was angry with him again: "Why did Mrs. Vimpany never tell me she +knew Lord Harry? Isn't that suspicious?" +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy smiled. "Let me put a question on my side," he said. "Did +<I>you</I> tell Mrs. Vimpany you knew Lord Harry?" Iris made no reply; her +face spoke for her. "Well, then," he urged, "is <I>your</I> silence +suspicious? I am far, mind, from saying that this may not be a very +unpleasant discovery. Only let us be sure first that we are right." +</P> + +<P> +With most of a woman's merits, Miss Henley had many of a woman's +faults. Still holding to her own conclusion, she asked how they could +expect to be sure of anything if they addressed their inquiries to a +person who had already deceived them. +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy's inexhaustible indulgence still made allowances for her. +"When Mrs. Vimpany comes back," he said, "I will find an opportunity of +mentioning Lord Harry's name. If she tells us that she knows him, there +will be good reason in that one circumstance, as it seems to me, for +continuing to trust her." +</P> + +<P> +"Suppose she shams ignorance," Iris persisted, "and looks as if she had +never heard of his name before?" +</P> + +<P> +"In that case, I shall own that I was wrong, and shall ask you to +forgive me." +</P> + +<P> +The finer and better nature of Iris recovered its influence at these +words. "It is I who ought to beg pardon," she said. "Oh, I wish I could +think before I speak: how insolent and ill-tempered I have been! But +suppose I turn out to be right, Hugh, what will you do then?" +</P> + +<P> +"Then, my dear, it will be my duty to take you and your maid away from +this house, and to tell your father what serious reasons there are"—— +He abruptly checked himself. Mrs. Vimpany had returned; she was in +perfect possession of her lofty courtesy, sweetened by the modest +dignity of her smile. +</P> + +<P> +"I have left you, Miss Henley, in such good company," she said, with a +gracious inclination of her head in the direction of Mountjoy, "that I +need hardly repeat my apologies—unless, indeed, I am interrupting a +confidential conversation." +</P> + +<P> +It was possible that Iris might have betrayed herself, when the +doctor's wife had looked at her after examining the address on the +packet. In this case Mrs. Vimpany's allusion to "a confidential +conversation" would have operated as a warning to a person of +experience in the by-ways of deceit. Mountjoy's utmost exertion of +cunning was not capable of protecting him on such conditions as these. +The opportunity of trying his proposed experiment with Lord Harry's +name seemed to have presented itself already. He rashly seized on it. +</P> + +<P> +"You have interrupted nothing that was confidential," he hastened to +assure Mrs. Vimpany. "We have been speaking of a reckless young +gentleman, who is an acquaintance of ours. If what I hear is true, he +has already become public property; his adventures have found their way +into some of the newspapers." +</P> + +<P> +Here, if Mrs. Vimpany had answered Hugh's expectations, she ought to +have asked who the young gentleman was. She merely listened in polite +silence. +</P> + +<P> +With a woman's quickness of perception, Iris saw that Mountjoy had not +only pounced on his opportunity prematurely, but had spoken with a +downright directness of allusion which must at once have put such a +ready-witted person as Mrs. Vimpany on her guard. In trying to prevent +him from pursuing his unfortunate experiment in social diplomacy, Iris +innocently repeated Mountjoy's own mistake. She, too, seized her +opportunity prematurely. That is to say, she was rash enough to change +the subject. +</P> + +<P> +"You were talking just now, Hugh, of our friend's adventures," she +said; "I am afraid you will find yourself involved in an adventure of +no very agreeable kind, if you engage a bed at the inn. I never saw a +more wretched-looking place." +</P> + +<P> +It was one of Mrs. Vimpany's many merits that she seldom neglected an +opportunity of setting her friends at their ease. +</P> + +<P> +"No, no, dear Miss Henley," she hastened to say; "the inn is really a +more clean and comfortable place than you suppose. A hard bed and a +scarcity of furniture are the worst evils which your friend has to +fear. Do you know," she continued, addressing herself to Mountjoy, +"that I was reminded of a friend of mine, when you spoke just now of +the young gentleman whose adventures are in the newspapers. Is it +possible that you referred to the brother of the present Earl of +Norland? A handsome young Irishman—with whom I first became acquainted +many years since. Am I right in supposing that you and Miss Henley know +Lord Harry?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +What more than this could an unprejudiced mind require? Mrs. Vimpany +had set herself right with a simplicity that defied suspicion. Iris +looked at Mountjoy. He appeared to know when he was beaten. Having +acknowledged that Lord Harry was the young gentleman of whom he and +Miss Henley had been speaking, he rose to take leave. +</P> + +<P> +After what had passed, Iris felt the necessity of speaking privately to +Hugh. The necessary excuse presented itself in the remote situation of +the inn. "You will never find your way back," she said, "through the +labyrinth of crooked streets in this old town. Wait for me a minute, +and I will be your guide." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany protested. "My dear! let the servant show the way." +</P> + +<P> +Iris held gaily to her resolution, and ran away to her room. Mrs. +Vimpany yielded with her best grace. Miss Henley's motive could hardly +have been plainer to her, if Miss Henley had confessed it herself. +"What a charming girl!" the doctor's amiable wife said to Mountjoy, +when they were alone. "If I were a man, Miss Iris is just the young +lady that I should fall in love with." She looked significantly at +Mountjoy. Nothing came of it. She went on: "Miss Henley must have had +many opportunities of being married; but the right man has, I fear, not +yet presented himself." Once more her eloquent eyes consulted Mountjoy, +and once more nothing came of it. Some women are easily discouraged. +Impenetrable Mrs. Vimpany was one of the other women; she had not done +with Mountjoy yet—she invited him to dinner on the next day. +</P> + +<P> +"Our early hour is three o'clock," she said modestly. "Pray join us. I +hope to have the pleasure of introducing my husband." +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy had his reasons for wishing to see the husband. As he accepted +the invitation, Miss Henley returned to accompany him to the inn. +</P> + +<P> +Iris put the inevitable question to Hugh as soon as they were out of +the doctor's house—"What do you say of Mrs. Vimpany now?" +</P> + +<P> +"I say that she must have been once an actress," Mountjoy answered; +"and that she carries her experience of the stage into private life." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you propose to do next?" +</P> + +<P> +"I propose to wait, and see Mrs. Vimpany's husband to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. Vimpany, my dear, is too clever for me. If—observe, please, that +I do her the justice of putting it in that way—if she is really Lord +Harry's creature, employed to keep watch on you, and to inform him of +your next place of residence in England, I own that she has completely +deceived me. In that case, it is just possible that the husband is not +such a finished and perfect humbug as the wife. I may be able to see +through him. I can but try." +</P> + +<P> +Iris sighed. "I almost hope you may not succeed," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy was puzzled, and made no attempt to conceal it. "I thought you +only wanted to get at the truth," he answered. +</P> + +<P> +"My mind might be easier, perhaps, if I was left in doubt," she +suggested. "A perverse way of thinking has set up my poor opinion +against yours. But I am getting back to my better sense. I believe you +were entirely right when you tried to prevent me from rushing to +conclusions; it is more than likely that I have done Mrs. Vimpany an +injustice. Oh, Hugh, I ought to keep a friend—I who have so few +friends—when I have got one! And there is another feeling in me which +I must not conceal from you. When I remember Lord Harry's noble conduct +in trying to save poor Arthur, I cannot believe him capable of such +hateful deceit as consenting to our separation, and then having me +secretly watched by a spy. What monstrous inconsistency! Can anybody +believe it? Can anybody account for it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think I can account for it, Iris, if you will let me make the +attempt. You are mistaken to begin with." +</P> + +<P> +"How am I mistaken?" +</P> + +<P> +"You shall see. There is no such creature as a perfectly consistent +human being on the face of the earth—and, strange as it may seem to +you, the human beings themselves are not aware of it. The reason for +this curious state of things is not far to seek. How can people who are +ignorant—as we see every day—of their own characters be capable of +correctly estimating the characters of others? Even the influence of +their religion fails to open their eyes to the truth. In the Prayer +which is the most precious possession of Christendom, their lips repeat +the entreaty that they may not be led into temptation—but their minds +fail to draw the inference. If that pathetic petition means anything, +it means that virtuous men and women are capable of becoming vicious +men and women, if a powerful temptation puts them to the test. Every +Sunday, devout members of the congregation in church—models of +excellence in their own estimation, and in the estimation of their +neighbours—declare that they have done those things which they ought +not to have done, and that there is no health in them. Will you believe +that they are encouraged by their Prayer-books to present this sad +exposure of the frailty of their own admirable characters? How +inconsistent—and yet how entirely true! Lord Harry, as you rightly +say, behaved nobly in trying to save my dear lost brother. He ought, as +you think, and as other people think, to be consistently noble, after +that, in all his thoughts and actions, to the end of his life. Suppose +that temptation does try him—such temptation, Iris, as you innocently +present—why doesn't he offer a superhuman resistance? You might as +well ask, Why is he a mortal man? How inconsistent, how improbable, +that he should have tendencies to evil in him, as well as tendencies to +good! Ah, I see you don't like this. It would be infinitely more +agreeable (wouldn't it?) if Lord Harry was one of the entirely +consistent characters which are sometimes presented in works of +fiction. Our good English readers are charmed with the man, the woman, +or the child, who is introduced to them by the kind novelist as a being +without faults. Do they stop to consider whether this is a true picture +of humanity? It would be a terrible day for the book if they ever did +that. But the book is in no danger. The readers would even fail to +discover the falseness of the picture, if they were presented to +themselves as perfect characters. 'We mustn't say so, but how +wonderfully like us!' There would be the only impression produced. I am +not trying to dishearten you; I want to encourage you to look at +humanity from a wider and truer point of view. Do not be too readily +depressed, if you find your faith shaken in a person whom you have +hitherto believed to be good. That person has been led into temptation. +Wait till time shows you that the evil influence is not everlasting, +and that the good influence will inconsistently renew your faith out of +the very depths of your despair. Humanity, in general, is neither +perfectly good nor perfectly wicked: take it as you find it. Is this a +hard lesson to learn? Well! it's easy to do what other people do, under +similar circumstances. Listen to the unwelcome truth to-day, my dear; +and forget it to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +They parted at the door of the inn. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE GAME: MOUNTJOY PLAYS A NEW CARD +</H3> + +<P> +MR. VIMPANY (of the College of Surgeons) was a burly man, heavily built +from head to foot. His bold round eyes looked straight at his +fellow-creatures with an expression of impudent good humour; his +whiskers were bushy, his hands were big, his lips were thick, his legs +were solid. Add to this a broad sunburnt face, and a grey coat with +wide tails, a waistcoat with a check pattern, and leather +riding-gaiters—and no stranger could have failed to mistake Mr. +Vimpany for a farmer of the old school. He was proud of the false +impression that he created. "Nature built me to be a farmer," he used +to say. "But my poor foolish old mother was a lady by birth, and she +insisted on her son being a professional man. I hadn't brains for the +Law, or money for the Army, or morals for the Church. And here I am a +country doctor—the one representative of slavery left in the +nineteenth century. You may not believe me, but I never see a labourer +at the plough that I don't envy him." +</P> + +<P> +This was the husband of the elegant lady with the elaborate manners. +This was the man who received Mountjoy with a "Glad to see you, sir," +and a shake of the hand that hurt him. +</P> + +<P> +"Coarse fare," said Mr. Vimpany, carving a big joint of beef; "but I +can't afford anything better. Only a pudding to follow, and a glass of +glorious old sherry. Miss Henley is good enough to excuse it—and my +wife's used to it—and you will put up with it, Mr. Mountjoy, if you +are half as amiable as you look. I'm an old-fashioned man. The pleasure +of a glass of wine with you, sir." +</P> + +<P> +Hugh's first experience of the "glorious old sherry" led him to a +discovery, which proved to be more important than he was disposed to +consider it at the moment. He merely observed, with some amusement, +that Mr. Vimpany smacked his lips in hearty approval of the worst +sherry that his guest had ever tasted. Here, plainly self-betrayed, was +a medical man who was an exception to a general rule in the +profession—here was a doctor ignorant of the difference between good +wine and bad! +</P> + +<P> +Both the ladies were anxious to know how Mountjoy had passed the night +at the inn. He had only time to say that there was nothing to complain +of, when Mr. Vimpany burst into an explosion of laughter. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, but you must have had something to complain of!" said the big +doctor. "I would bet a hundred, if I could afford it, that the landlady +tried to poison you with her sour French wine." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you speak of the claret at the inn, after having tasted it?" +Mountjoy asked. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you take me for?" cried Mr. Vimpany. "After all I have heard +of that claret, I am not fool enough to try it myself, I can tell you." +Mountjoy received this answer in silence. The doctor's ignorance and +the doctor's prejudice, in the matter of wine, had started a new train +of thought in Hugh's mind, which threatened serious consequences to Mr. +Vimpany himself. There was a pause at the table; nobody spoke. The +doctor saw condemnation of his rudeness expressed in his wife's face. +He made a rough apology to Mountjoy, who was still preoccupied. "No +offence, I hope? It's in the nature of me, sir, to speak my mind. If I +could fawn and flatter, I should have got on better in my profession. +I'm what they call a rough diamond. No, offence, I say?" +</P> + +<P> +"None whatever, Mr. Vimpany." +</P> + +<P> +"That's right! Try another glass of sherry." +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy took the sherry. +</P> + +<P> +Iris looked at him, lost in surprise. It was unlike Hugh to be +interested in a stranger's opinion of wine. It was unlike him to drink +wine which was evidently not to his taste. And it was especially unlike +his customary courtesy to let himself fall into thought at dinner-time, +when there were other persons at the table. Was he ill? Impossible to +look at him, and not see that he was in perfect health. What did it +mean? +</P> + +<P> +Finding Mountjoy inattentive, Mr. Vimpany addressed himself to Iris. +</P> + +<P> +"I had to ride hard, Miss Henley, to get home in time for dinner. There +are patients, I must tell you, who send for the doctor, and then seem +to think they know more about it than the very man whom they have +called in to cure them. It isn't he who tells them what their illness +is; it's they who tell him. They dispute about the medical treatment +that's best for them, and the one thing they are never tired of doing +is talking about their symptoms. It was an old man's gabble that kept +me late to-day. However, the Squire, as they call him in these parts, +is a patient with a long purse; I am obliged to submit." +</P> + +<P> +"A gentleman of the old school, dear Miss Henley," Mrs. Vimpany +explained. "Immensely rich. Is he better?" she asked, turning to her +husband. +</P> + +<P> +"Better?" cried the outspoken doctor. "Pooh! there's nothing the matter +with him but gluttony. He went to London, and consulted a great man, a +humbug with a handle to his name. The famous physician got rid of him +in no time—sent him abroad to boil himself in foreign baths. He came +home again worse than ever, and consulted poor Me. I found him at +dinner—a perfect feast, I give you my word of honour!—and the old +fool gorging himself till he was black in the face. His wine, I should +have said, was not up to the mark; wanted body and flavour, you know. +Ah, Mr. Mountjoy, this seems to interest you; reminds you of the +landlady's wine—eh? Well, sir, how do you think I treated the Squire? +Emptied his infirm old inside with an emetic—and there he was on his +legs again. Whenever he overeats himself he sends for me; and pays +liberally. I ought to be grateful to him, and I am. Upon my soul, I +believe I should be in the bankruptcy court but for the Squire's +stomach. Look at my wife! She's shocked at me. We ought to keep up +appearances, my dear? Not I! When I am poor, I say I am poor. When I +cure a patient, I make no mystery of it; everybody's welcome to know +how it's done. Don't be down-hearted, Arabella; nature never meant your +husband for a doctor, and there's the long and the short of it. Another +glass of sherry, Mr. Mountjoy?" +</P> + +<P> +All social ceremonies—including the curious English custom which sends +the ladies upstairs, after dinner, and leaves the gentlemen at the +table—found a devoted adherent in Mrs. Vimpany. She rose as if she had +been presiding at a banquet, and led Miss Henley affectionately to the +drawing-room. Iris glanced at Hugh. No; his mind was not at ease yet; +the preoccupied look had not left his face. +</P> + +<P> +Jovial Mr. Vimpany pushed the bottle across the table to his guest, and +held out a handful of big black cigars. +</P> + +<P> +"Now for the juice of the grape," he cried, "and the best cigar in all +England!" +</P> + +<P> +He had just filled his glass, and struck a light for his cigar, when +the servant came in with a note. Some men relieve their sense of +indignation in one way, and some in another. The doctor's form of +relief was an oath. "Talk about slavery!" he shouted. "Find me such a +slave in all Africa as a man in my profession. There isn't an hour of +the day or night that he can call his own. Here's a stupid old woman +with an asthma, who has got another spasmodic attack—and I must leave +my dinner-table and my friend, just as we are enjoying ourselves. I +have half a mind not to go." +</P> + +<P> +The inattentive guest suddenly set himself right in his host's +estimation. Hugh remonstrated with an appearance of interest in the +case, which the doctor interpreted as a compliment to himself: "Oh, Mr. +Vimpany, humanity! humanity!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Mr. Mountjoy, money! money!" the facetious doctor answered. "The +old lady is our Mayor's mother, sir. You don't seem to be quick at +taking a joke. Make your mind easy; I shall pocket my fee." +</P> + +<P> +As soon as he had closed the door, Hugh Mountjoy uttered a devout +ejaculation. "Thank God!" he said—and walked up and down the room, +free to think without interruption at last. +</P> + +<P> +The subject of his meditations was the influence of intoxication in +disclosing the hidden weaknesses and vices of a man's character by +exhibiting them just as they are, released from the restraint which he +exercises over himself when he is sober. That there was a weak side, +and probably a vicious side, in Mr. Vimpany's nature it was hardly +possible to doubt. His blustering good humour, his audacious +self-conceit, the tones of his voice, the expression in his eyes, all +revealed him (to use one expressive word) as a humbug. Let drink subtly +deprive him of his capacity for self-concealment! and the true nature +of his wife's association with Lord Harry might sooner or later show +itself—say, in after-dinner talk, under skilful management. The right +method of entrapping him into a state of intoxication (which might have +presented serious difficulties under other circumstances) was +suggested, partly by his ignorance of the difference between good wine +and bad, and partly by Mountjoy's knowledge of the excellent quality of +the landlady's claret. He had recognised, as soon as he tasted it, that +finest vintage of Bordeaux, which conceals its true strength—to a +gross and ignorant taste—under the exquisite delicacy of its flavour. +Encourage Mr. Vimpany by means of a dinner at the inn, to give his +opinion as a man whose judgment in claret was to be seriously +consulted—and permit him also to discover that Hugh was rich enough to +have been able to buy the wine—and the attainment of the end in view +would be simply a question of time. There was certainly the chance to +be reckoned with, that his thick head might prove to be too strong for +the success of the experiment. Mountjoy determined to try it, and did +try it nevertheless. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany returned from his medical errand, thoroughly well satisfied +with himself. +</P> + +<P> +"The Mayor's mother has reason to thank you, sir," he announced. "If +you hadn't hurried me away, the wretched old creature would have been +choked. A regular stand-up fight, by Jupiter, between death and the +doctor!—and the doctor has won! Give me the reward of merit. Pass the +bottle." +</P> + +<P> +He took up the decanter, and looked at it. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, what have you been about?" he asked. "I made up my mind that I +should want the key of the cellar when I came back, and I don't believe +you have drunk a drop in my absence. What does it mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"It means that I am not worthy of your sherry," Mountjoy answered. "The +Spanish wines are too strong for my weak digestion." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany burst into one of his explosions of laughter. "You miss the +landlady's vinegar—eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I do! Wait a minute, doctor; I have a word to say on my +side—and, like you, I mean what I say. The landlady's vinegar is some +of the finest Chateau Margaux I have ever met with—thrown away on +ignorant people who are quite unworthy of it." +</P> + +<P> +The doctor's natural insolence showed itself. "You have bought this +wonderful wine, of course?" he said satirically. +</P> + +<P> +"That," Mountjoy answered, "is just what I have done." +</P> + +<P> +For once in his life, Mr. Vimpany's self-sufficient readiness of speech +failed him. He stared at his guest in dumb amazement. On this occasion, +Mountjoy improved the opportunity to good purpose. Mr. Vimpany accepted +with the utmost readiness an invitation to dine on the next day at the +inn. But he made a condition. "In case I don't agree with you about +that Chateau—what-you-call-it," he said, "you won't mind my sending +home for a bottle of sherry?" +</P> + +<P> +The next event of the day was a visit to the most interesting monument +of antiquity in the town. In the absence of the doctor, caused by +professional engagements, Miss Henley took Mountjoy to see the old +church—and Mrs. Vimpany accompanied them, as a mark of respect to Miss +Henley's friend. +</P> + +<P> +When there was a chance of being able to speak confidentially, Iris was +eager in praising the doctor's wife. "You can't imagine, Hugh, how +agreeable she has been, and how entirely she has convinced me that I +was wrong, shamefully wrong, in thinking of her as I did. She sees that +you dislike her, and yet she speaks so nicely of you. 'Your clever +friend enjoys your society,' she said; 'pray accompany me when I take +him to see the church.' How unselfish!" +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy kept his own counsel. The generous impulses which sometimes +led Iris astray were, as he well knew, beyond the reach of +remonstrance. His own opinion of Mrs. Vimpany still pronounced steadily +against her. Prepared for discoveries, on the next day, which might +prove too serious to be trifled with, he now did his best to provide +for future emergencies. +</P> + +<P> +After first satisfying himself that there was nothing in the present +state of the maid's health which need detain her mistress at +Honeybuzzard, he next completed his preparations by returning to the +inn, and writing to Mr. Henley. With strict regard to truth, his letter +presented the daughter's claim on the father under a new point of view. +Whatever the end of it might be, Mr. Henley was requested to +communicate his intentions by telegraph. Will you receive Iris? was the +question submitted. The answer expected was: Yes or No. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE GAME: MOUNTJOY WINS +</H3> + +<P> +MR. HENLEY's telegram arrived at the inn the next morning. +</P> + +<P> +He was willing to receive his daughter, but not unreservedly. The +message was characteristic of the man: "Yes—on trial." Mountjoy was +not shocked, was not even surprised. He knew that the successful +speculations, by means of which Mr. Henley had accumulated his wealth, +had raised against him enemies, who had spread scandalous reports which +had never been completely refuted. The silent secession of friends, in +whose fidelity he trusted, had hardened the man's heart and embittered +his nature. Strangers in distress, who appealed to the rich retired +merchant for help, found in their excellent references to character the +worst form of persuasion that they could have adopted. Paupers without +a rag of reputation left to cover them, were the objects of charity +whom Mr. Henley relieved. When he was asked to justify his conduct, he +said: "I have a sympathy with bad characters—-I am one of them +myself." +</P> + +<P> +With the arrival of the dinner hour the doctor appeared, in no very +amiable humour, at the inn. +</P> + +<P> +"Another hard day's work," he said; "I should sink under it, if I +hadn't a prospect of getting rid of my practice here. London—or the +neighbourhood of London—there's the right place for a man like Me. +Well? Where's the wonderful wine? Mind! I'm Tom-Tell-Truth; if I don't +like your French tipple, I shall say so." +</P> + +<P> +The inn possessed no claret glasses; they drank the grand wine in +tumblers as if it had been vin ordinaire. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany showed that he was acquainted with the formalities proper +to the ceremony of tasting. He filled his makeshift glass, he held it +up to the light, and looked at the wine severely; he moved the tumbler +to and fro under his nose, and smelt at it again and again; he paused +and reflected; he tasted the claret as cautiously as if he feared it +might be poisoned; he smacked his lips, and emptied his glass at a +draught; lastly, he showed some consideration for his host's anxiety, +and pronounced sentence on the wine. +</P> + +<P> +"Not so good as you think it, sir. But nice light claret; clean and +wholesome. I hope you haven't given too much for it?" +</P> + +<P> +Thus far, Hugh had played a losing game patiently. His reward had come +at last. After what the doctor had just said to him, he saw the winning +card safe in his own hand. +</P> + +<P> +The bad dinner was soon over. No soup, of course; fish, in the state of +preservation usually presented by a decayed country town; steak that +rivalled the toughness of india-rubber; potatoes whose aspect said, +"stranger, don't eat us"; pudding that would have produced a sense of +discouragement, even in the mind of a child; and the famous English +cheese which comes to us, oddly enough, from the United States, and +stings us vindictively when we put it into our mouths. But the wine, +the glorious wine, would have made amends to anybody but Mr. Vimpany +for the woeful deficiencies of the food. Tumbler-full after +tumbler-full of that noble vintage poured down his thirsty and ignorant +throat; and still he persisted in declaring that it was nice light +stuff, and still he unforgivingly bore in mind the badness of the +dinner. +</P> + +<P> +"The feeding here," said this candid man, "is worse if possible than +the feeding at sea, when I served as doctor on board a passenger-steamer. +Shall I tell you how I lost my place? Oh, say so plainly, if +you don't think my little anecdote worth listening to!" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear sir, I am waiting to hear it." +</P> + +<P> +"Very good. No offence, I hope? That's right! Well, sir, the captain of +the ship complained of me to the owners; I wouldn't go round, every +morning, and knock at the ladies' cabin-doors, and ask how they felt +after a sea-sick night. Who doesn't know what they feel, without +knocking at their doors? Let them send for the doctor when they want +him. That was how I understood my duty; and there was the line of +conduct that lost me my place. Pass the wine. Talking of ladies, what +do you think of my wife? Did you ever see such distinguished manners +before? My dear fellow, I have taken a fancy to you. Shake hands. I'll +tell you another little anecdote. Where do you think my wife picked up +her fashionable airs and graces? Ho! ho! On the stage! The highest +branch of the profession, sir—a tragic actress. If you had seen her in +Lady Macbeth, Mrs. Vimpany would have made your flesh creep. Look at +me, and feast your eyes on a man who is above hypocritical objections +to the theatre. Haven't I proved it by marrying an actress? But we +don't mention it here. The savages in this beastly place wouldn't +employ me, if they knew I had married a stage-player. Hullo! The +bottle's empty again. Ha! here's another bottle, full. I love a man who +has always got a full bottle to offer his friend. Shake hands. I say, +Mountjoy, tell me on your sacred word of honour, can you keep a secret? +My wife's secret, sir! Stop! let me look at you again. I thought I saw +you smile. If a man smiles at me, when I am opening my whole heart to +him, by the living jingo, I would knock that man down at his own table! +What? you didn't smile? I apologise. Your hand again; I drink your +health in your own good wine. Where was I? What was I talking about?" +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy carefully humoured his interesting guest. +</P> + +<P> +"You were about to honour me," he said, "by taking me into your +confidence." Mr. Vimpany stared in tipsy bewilderment. Mountjoy tried +again in plainer language: "You were going to tell me a secret." +</P> + +<P> +This time, the doctor grasped the idea. He looked round cunningly to +the door. "Any eavesdroppers?" he asked. "Hush! Whisper—this is +serious—whisper! What was it I was going to tell you? What was the +secret, old boy?" +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy answered a little too readily: "I think it related to Mrs. +Vimpany." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany's husband threw himself back in his chair, snatched a +dirty handkerchief out of his pocket, and began to cry. +</P> + +<P> +"Here's a false friend!" the creature whimpered. "Asks me to dinner, +and takes advantage of my dependent situation to insult my wife. The +loveliest of women, the sweetest of women, the innocentest of women. +Oh, my wife! my wife!" He suddenly threw his handkerchief to the other +end of the room, and burst out laughing. "Ho! ho! Mountjoy, what an +infernal fool you must be to take me seriously. I can act, too. Do you +think I care about my wife? She was a fine woman once: she's a bundle +of old rags now. But she has her merits. Hush! I want to know +something. Have you got a lord among your circle of acquaintance?" +</P> + +<P> +Experience made Mountjoy more careful; perhaps a little too careful. He +only said "Yes." +</P> + +<P> +The doctor's dignity asserted itself. "That's a short answer, sir, to a +man in my position. If you want me to believe you, mention your +friend's name." +</P> + +<P> +Here was a chance at last! "His name;" Mountjoy began, "is Lord +Harry—" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany lost his dignity in an instant. He struck his heavy fist on +the table, with a blow that made the tumblers jump. +</P> + +<P> +"Coincidence!" he cried. "How wonderful—no; that's not the +word—providential is the word—how providential are coincidences! I +mean, of course, to a rightly constituted mind. Let nobody contradict +me! When I say a rightly constituted mind I speak seriously; and a +young man like you will be all the better for it. Mountjoy! dear +Mountjoy! jolly Mountjoy! my wife's lord is your lord—Lord Harry. No; +none of your nonsense—I won't have any more wine. Yes, I will; it +might hurt your feelings if I didn't drink with you. Pass the bottle. +Ha! That's a nice ring you've got on your finger. Perhaps you think it +valuable? It's nothing, sir; it's dross, it's dirt, compared to my +wife's diamond pin! There's a jewel, if you like! It will be worth a +fortune to us when we sell it. A gift, dear sir! I'm afraid I've been +too familiar with you. Speaking as a born gentleman, I beg to present +my respects, and I call you 'dear sir.' Did I tell you the diamond pin +was a gift? It's nothing of the sort; we are under no obligation; my +wife, my admirable wife, has earned that diamond pin. By registered +post; and what I call a manly letter from Lord Harry. He is deeply +obliged (I give you the sense of it) by what my wife has done for him; +ready money is scarce with my lord; he sends a family jewel, with his +love. Oh, I'm not jealous. He's welcome to love Mrs. Vimpany, in her +old age, if he likes. Did you say that, sir? Did you say that Lord +Harry, or any man, was welcome to love Mrs. Vimpany? I have a great +mind to throw this bottle at your head. No, I won't; it's wasting good +wine! How kind of you to give me good wine. Who are you? I don't like +dining with a stranger. Do you know any friend of mine? Do you know a +man named Mountjoy? Do you know two men named Mountjoy? No: you don't. +One of them is dead: killed by those murdering scoundrels what do you +call them? Eh, what?" The doctor's voice began to falter, his head +dropped; he slumbered suddenly and woke suddenly, and began talking +again suddenly. "Would you like to be made acquainted with Lord Harry? +I'll give you a sketch of his character before I introduce him. Between +ourselves, he's a desperate wretch. Do you know why he employed my +wife, my admirable wife? You will agree with me; he ought to have +looked after his young woman himself. We've got his young woman safe in +our house. A nice girl. Not my style; my medical knowledge certifies +she's cold-blooded. Lord Harry has only to come over here and find her. +Why the devil doesn't he come? What is it keeps him in Ireland? Do you +know? I seem to have forgotten. My own belief is I've got softening of +the brain. What's good for softening of the brain? There isn't a doctor +living who won't tell you the right remedy—wine. Pass the wine. If +this claret is worth a farthing, it's worth a guinea a bottle. I ask +you in confidence; did you ever hear of such a fool as my wife's lord? +His name escapes me. No matter; he stops in Ireland—hunting. Hunting +what? The fox? Nothing so noble; hunting assassins. He's got some +grudge against one of them. Means to kill one of them. A word in your +ear; they'll kill him. Do you ever bet? Five to one, he's a dead man +before the end of the week. When is the end of the week? Tuesday, +Wednesday—no, Saturday—that's the beginning of the week—no, it +isn't—the beginning of the week isn't the Sabbath—Sunday, of +course—we are not Christians, we are Jews—I mean we are Jews, we are +not Christians—I mean—" +</P> + +<P> +The claret got the better of his tongue, at last. He mumbled and +muttered; he sank back in his chair; he chuckled; he hiccupped; he fell +asleep. +</P> + +<P> +All and more than all that Mountjoy feared, he had now discovered. In a +state of sobriety, the doctor was probably one of those men who are +always ready to lie. In a state of intoxication the utterances of his +drunken delirium might unconsciously betray the truth. The reason which +he had given for Lord Harry's continued absence in Ireland, could not +be wisely rejected as unworthy of belief. It was in the reckless nature +of the wild lord to put his own life in peril, in the hope of revenging +Arthur Mountjoy on the wretch who had killed him. Taking this bad news +for granted, was there any need to distress Iris by communicating the +motive which detained Lord Harry in his own country? Surely not! +</P> + +<P> +And, again, was there any immediate advantage to be gained by revealing +the true character of Mrs. Vimpany, as a spy, and, worse still, a spy +who was paid? In her present state of feeling, Iris would, in all +probability, refuse to believe it. +</P> + +<P> +Arriving at these conclusions, Hugh looked at the doctor snoring and +choking in an easy-chair. He had not wasted the time and patience +devoted to the stratagem which had now successfully reached its end. +After what he had just heard—thanks to the claret—he could not +hesitate to accomplish the speedy removal of Iris from Mr. Vimpany's +house; using her father's telegram as the only means of persuasion on +which it was possible to rely. Mountjoy left the inn without ceremony, +and hurried away to Iris in the hope of inducing her to return to +London with him that night. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DOCTORING THE DOCTOR +</H3> + +<P> +ASKING for Miss Henley at the doctor's door, Hugh was informed that she +had gone out, with her invalid maid, for a walk. She had left word, if +Mr. Mountjoy called in her absence, to beg that he would kindly wait +for her return. +</P> + +<P> +On his way up to the drawing-room, Mountjoy heard Mrs. Vimpany's +sonorous voice occupied, as he supposed, in reading aloud. The door +being opened for him, he surprised her, striding up and down the room +with a book in her hand; grandly declaiming without anybody to applaud +her. After what Hugh had already heard, he could only conclude that +reminiscences of her theatrical career had tempted the solitary actress +to make a private appearance, for her own pleasure, in one of those +tragic characters to which her husband had alluded. She recovered her +self-possession on Mountjoy's appearance, with the ease of a mistress +of her art. "Pardon me," she said, holding up her book with one hand, +and tapping it indicatively with the other: "Shakespeare carries me out +of myself. A spark of the poet's fire burns in the poet's humble +servant. May I hope that I have made myself understood? You look as if +you had a fellow-feeling for me." +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy did his best to fill the sympathetic part assigned to him, and +only succeeded in showing what a bad actor he would have been, if he +had gone on the stage. Under the sedative influence thus administered, +Mrs. Vimpany put away her book, and descended at once from the highest +poetry to the lowest prose. +</P> + +<P> +"Let us return to domestic events," she said indulgently. "Have the +people at the inn given you a good dinner?" +</P> + +<P> +"The people did their best," Mountjoy answered cautiously. +</P> + +<P> +"Has my husband returned with you?" Mrs. Vimpany went on. +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy began to regret that he had not waited for Iris in the street. +He was obliged to acknowledge that the doctor had not returned with +him. +</P> + +<P> +"Where is Mr. Vimpany?" +</P> + +<P> +"At the inn." +</P> + +<P> +"What is he doing there?" +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy hesitated. Mrs. Vimpany rose again into the regions of tragic +poetry. She stepped up to him, as if he had been Macbeth, and she was +ready to use the daggers. "I understand but too well," she declared in +terrible tones. "My wretched husband's vices are known to me. Mr. +Vimpany is intoxicated." +</P> + +<P> +Hugh tried to make the best of it. "Only asleep," he said. Mrs. Vimpany +looked at him once more. This time, it was Queen Katharine looking at +Cardinal Wolsey. She bowed with lofty courtesy, and opened the door. "I +have occasion," she said, "to go out"——and made an exit. +</P> + +<P> +Five minutes later, Mountjoy (standing at the window, impatiently on +the watch for the return of Iris) saw Mrs. Vimpany in the street. She +entered a chemist's shop, on the opposite side of the way, and came out +again with a bottle in her hand. It was enclosed in the customary +medical wrapping of white paper. Majestically, she passed out of sight. +If Hugh had followed her he would have traced the doctor's wife to the +door of the inn. +</P> + +<P> +The unemployed waiter was on the house-steps, looking about him—with +nothing to see. He made his bow to Mrs. Vimpany, and informed her that +the landlady had gone out. +</P> + +<P> +"You will do as well," was the reply. "Is Mr. Vimpany here?" +</P> + +<P> +The waiter smiled, and led the way through the passage to the foot of +the stairs. "You can hear him, ma'am." It was quite true; Mr. Vimpany's +snoring answered for Mr. Vimpany. His wife ascended the first two or +three stairs, and stopped to speak again to the waiter. She asked what +the two gentlemen had taken to drink with their dinner. They had taken +"the French wine." +</P> + +<P> +"And nothing else?" +</P> + +<P> +The waiter ventured on a little joke. "Nothing else," he said—"and +more than enough of it, too." +</P> + +<P> +"Not more than enough, I suppose, for the good of the house," Mrs. +Vimpany remarked. +</P> + +<P> +"I beg your pardon, ma'am; the claret the two gentlemen drank is not +charged for in the bill." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +The waiter explained that Mr. Mountjoy had purchased the whole stock of +the wine. Suspicion, as well as surprise, appeared in Mrs. Vimpany's +face. She had hitherto thought it likely that Miss Henley's +gentleman-like friend might be secretly in love with the young lady. +Her doubts of him, now, took a wider range of distrust. She went on up +the stairs by herself, and banged the door of the private room as the +easiest means of waking the sleeping man. To the utmost noise that she +could make in this way, he was perfectly impenetrable. For a while she +waited, looking at him across the table with unutterable contempt. +</P> + +<P> +There was the man to whom the religion of the land and the law of the +land, acting together in perfect harmony, had fettered her for life! +Some women, in her position, might have wasted time in useless +self-reproach. Mrs. Vimpany reviewed her miserable married life with +the finest mockery of her own misfortune. "Virtue," she said to +herself, "is its own reward." +</P> + +<P> +Glancing with careless curiosity at the disorder of the dinner-table, +she noticed some wine still left in the bottom of her husband's glass. +Had artificial means been used to reduce him to his present condition? +She tasted the claret. No; there was nothing in the flavour of it which +betrayed that he had been drugged. If the waiter was to be believed, he +had only drunk claret—and there he was, in a state of helpless +stupefaction, nevertheless. +</P> + +<P> +She looked again at the dinner-table, and discovered one, among the +many empty bottles, with some wine still left in it. After a moment of +reflection, she took a clean tumbler from the sideboard. +</P> + +<P> +Here was the wine which had been an object of derision to Mr. Vimpany +and his friends. They were gross feeders and drinkers; and it might not +be amiss to put their opinions to the test. She was not searching for +the taste of a drug now; her present experiment proposed to try the +wine on its own merits. +</P> + +<P> +At the time of her triumphs on the country stage—before the date of +her unlucky marriage—rich admirers had entertained the handsome +actress at suppers, which offered every luxury that the most perfect +table could supply. Experience had made her acquainted with the flavour +of the finest claret—and that experience was renewed by the claret +which she was now tasting. It was easy to understand why Mr. Mountjoy +had purchased the wine; and, after a little thinking, his motive for +inviting Mr. Vimpany to dinner seemed to be equally plain. Foiled in +their first attempt at discovery by her own prudence and tact, his +suspicions had set their trap. Her gross husband had been tempted to +drink, and to talk at random (for Mr. Mountjoy's benefit) in a state of +intoxication! +</P> + +<P> +What secrets might the helpless wretch not have betrayed before the +wine had completely stupefied him? +</P> + +<P> +Urged by rage and fear, she shook him furiously. He woke; he glared at +her with bloodshot eyes; he threatened her with his clenched fist. +There was but one way of lifting his purblind stupidity to the light. +She appealed to his experience of himself, on many a former occasion: +"You fool, you have been drinking again—and there's a patient waiting +for you." To that dilemma he was accustomed; the statement of it +partially roused him. Mrs. Vimpany tore off the paper wrapping, and +opened the medicine-bottle which she had brought with her. +</P> + +<P> +He stared at it; he muttered to himself: "Is she going to poison me?" +She seized his head with one hand, and held the open bottle to his +nose. "Your own prescription," she cried, "for yourself and your +hateful friends." +</P> + +<P> +His nose told him what words might have tried vainly to say: he +swallowed the mixture. "If I lose the patient," he muttered oracularly, +"I lose the money." His resolute wife dragged him out of his chair. The +second door in the dining-room led into an empty bed-chamber. With her +help, he got into the room, and dropped on the bed. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany consulted her watch. +</P> + +<P> +On many a former occasion she had learnt what interval of repose was +required, before the sobering influence of the mixture could +successfully assert itself. For the present, she had only to return to +the other room. The waiter presented himself, asking if there was +anything he could do for her. Familiar with the defective side of her +husband's character, he understood what it meant when she pointed to +the bedroom door. "The old story, ma'am," he said, with an air of +respectful sympathy. "Can I get you a cup of tea?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany accepted the tea, and enjoyed it thoughtfully. +</P> + +<P> +She had two objects in view—to be revenged on Mountjoy, and to find a +way of forcing him to leave the town before he could communicate his +discoveries to Iris. How to reach these separate ends, by one and the +same means, was still the problem which she was trying to solve, when +the doctor's coarse voice was audible, calling for somebody to come to +him. +</P> + +<P> +If his head was only clear enough, by this time, to understand the +questions which she meant to put, his answers might suggest the idea of +which she was in search. Rising with alacrity, Mrs. Vimpany returned to +the bed-chamber. +</P> + +<P> +"You miserable creature," she began, "are you sober now?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm as sober as you are." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know," she went on, "why Mr. Mountjoy asked you to dine with +him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because he's my friend." +</P> + +<P> +"He is your worst enemy. Hold your tongue! I'll explain what I mean +directly. Rouse your memory, if you have got a memory left. I want to +know what you and Mr. Mountjoy talked about after dinner." +</P> + +<P> +He stared at her helplessly. She tried to find her way to his +recollection by making suggestive inquiries. It was useless; he only +complained of being thirsty. His wife lost her self-control. She was +too furiously angry with him to be able to remain in the room. +Recovering her composure when she was alone, she sent for soda-water +and brandy. Her one chance of making him useful was to humour his vile +temper; she waited on him herself. +</P> + +<P> +In some degree, the drink cleared his muddled head. Mrs. Vimpany tried +his memory once more. Had he said this? Had he said that? Yes: he +thought it likely. Had he, or had Mr. Mountjoy, mentioned Lord Harry's +name? A glimmer of intelligence showed itself in his stupid eyes. +Yes—and they had quarrelled about it: he rather thought he had thrown +a bottle at Mr. Mountjoy's head. Had they, either of them, said +anything about Miss Henley? Oh, of course! What was it? He was unable +to remember. Had his wife done bothering him, now? +</P> + +<P> +"Not quite," she replied. "Try to understand what I am going to say to +you. If Lord Harry comes to us while Miss Henley is in our house—" +</P> + +<P> +He interrupted her: "That's your business." +</P> + +<P> +"Wait a little. It's my business, if I hear beforehand that his +lordship is coming. But he is quite reckless enough to take us by +surprise. In that case, I want you to make yourself useful. If you +happen to be at home, keep him from seeing Miss Henley until I have +seen her first." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"I want an opportunity, my dear, of telling Miss Henley that I have +been wicked enough to deceive her, before she finds it out for herself. +I may hope she will forgive me, if I confess everything." +</P> + +<P> +The doctor laughed: "What the devil does it matter whether she forgives +you or not?" +</P> + +<P> +"It matters a great deal." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, you talk as if you were fond of her!" +</P> + +<P> +"I am." +</P> + +<P> +The doctor's clouded intelligence was beginning to clear; he made a +smart reply: "Fond of her, and deceiving her—aha!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said quietly, "that's just what it is. It has grown on me, +little by little; I can't help liking Miss Henley." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," Mr. Vimpany remarked, "you <I>are</I> a fool!" He looked at her +cunningly. "Suppose I do make myself useful, what am I to gain by it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Let us get back," she suggested, "to the gentleman who invited you to +dinner, and made you tipsy for his own purposes." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll break every bone in his skin!" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't talk nonsense! Leave Mr. Mountjoy to me." +</P> + +<P> +"Do <I>you</I> take his part? I can tell you this. If I drank too much of +that poisonous French stuff, Mountjoy set me the example. He was +tipsy—as you call it—shamefully tipsy, I give you my word of honour. +What's the matter now?" +</P> + +<P> +His wife (so impenetrably cool, thus far) had suddenly become excited. +There was not the smallest fragment of truth in what he had just said +of Hugh, and Mrs. Vimpany was not for a moment deceived by it. But the +lie had, accidentally, one merit—it suggested to her the idea which +she had vainly tried to find over her cup of tea. "Suppose I show you +how you may be revenged on Mr. Mountjoy," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" +</P> + +<P> +"Will you remember what I asked you to do for me, if Lord Harry takes +us by surprise?" +</P> + +<P> +He produced his pocket-diary, and told her to make a memorandum of it. +She wrote as briefly as if she had been writing a telegram: "Keep Lord +Harry from seeing Miss Henley, till I have seen her first." +</P> + +<P> +"Now," she said, taking a chair by the bedside, "you shall know what a +clever wife you have got. Listen to me." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +HER FATHER'S MESSAGE +</H3> + +<P> +LOOKING out of the drawing-room window, for the tenth time at least, +Mountjoy at last saw Iris in the street, returning to the house. +</P> + +<P> +She brought the maid with her into the drawing-room, in the gayest of +good spirits, and presented Rhoda to Mountjoy. +</P> + +<P> +"What a blessing a good long walk is, if we only knew it!" she +exclaimed. "Look at my little maid's colour! Who would suppose that she +came here with heavy eyes and pale cheeks? Except that she loses her +way in the town, whenever she goes out alone, we have every reason to +congratulate ourselves on our residence at Honeybuzzard. The doctor is +Rhoda's good genius, and the doctor's wife is her fairy godmother." +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy's courtesy having offered the customary congratulations, the +maid was permitted to retire; and Iris was free to express her +astonishment at the friendly relations established (by means of the +dinner-table) between the two most dissimilar men on the face of +creation. +</P> + +<P> +"There is something overwhelming," she declared, "in the bare idea of +your having asked him to dine with you—on such a short acquaintance, +and being such a man! I should like to have peeped in, and seen you +entertaining your guest with the luxuries of the hotel larder. +Seriously, Hugh, your social sympathies have taken a range for which I +was not prepared. After the example that you have set me, I feel +ashamed of having doubted whether Mr. Vimpany was worthy of his +charming wife. Don't suppose that I am ungrateful to the doctor! He has +found his way to my regard, after what he has done for Rhoda. I only +fail to understand how he has possessed himself of <I>your</I> sympathies." +</P> + +<P> +So she ran on, enjoying the exercise of her own sense of humour in +innocent ignorance of the serious interests which she was deriding. +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy tried to stop her, and tried in vain. +</P> + +<P> +"No, no," she persisted as mischievously as ever, "the subject is too +interesting to be dismissed. I am dying to know how you and your guest +got through the dinner. Did he take more wine than was good for him? +And, when he forgot his good manners, did he set it all right again by +saying, 'No offence,' and passing the bottle?" +</P> + +<P> +Hugh could endure it no longer. "Pray control your high spirits for a +moment," he said. "I have news for you from home." +</P> + +<P> +Those words put an end to her outbreak of gaiety, in an instant. +</P> + +<P> +"News from my father?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Is he coming here?" +</P> + +<P> +"No; I have heard from him." +</P> + +<P> +"A letter?" +</P> + +<P> +"A telegram," Mountjoy explained, "in answer to a letter from me. I did +my best to press your claims on him, and I am glad to say I have not +failed." +</P> + +<P> +"Hugh, dear Hugh! have you succeeded in reconciling us?" +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy produced the telegram. "I asked Mr. Henley," he said, "to let +me know at once whether he would receive you, and to answer plainly Yes +or No. The message might have been more kindly expressed—but, at any +rate, it is a favourable reply." +</P> + +<P> +Iris read the telegram. "Is there another father in the world," she +said sadly, "who would tell his daughter, when she asks to come home, +that he will receive her on trial?" +</P> + +<P> +"Surely, you are not offended with him, Iris?" +</P> + +<P> +She shook her head. "I am like you," she said. "I know him too well to +be offended. He shall find me dutiful, he shall find me patient. I am +afraid I must not expect you to wait for me in Honeybuzzard. Will you +tell my father that I hope to return to him in a week's time?" +</P> + +<P> +"Pardon me, Iris, I see no reason why you should waste a week in this +town. On the contrary, the more eager you show yourself to return to +your father, the more likely you are to recover your place in his +estimation. I had planned to take you home by the next train." +</P> + +<P> +Iris looked at him in astonishment. "Is it possible that you mean what +you say?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, I do most assuredly mean what I say. Why should you hesitate? +What possible reason can there be for staying here any longer?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Hugh, how you disappoint me! What has become of your kind feeling, +your sense of justice, your consideration for others? Poor Mrs. +Vimpany!" +</P> + +<P> +"What has Mrs. Vimpany to do with it?" +</P> + +<P> +Iris was indignant. +</P> + +<P> +"What has Mrs. Vimpany to do with it?" she repeated. "After all that I +owe to that good creature's kindness; after I have promised to +accompany her—she has so few happy days, poor soul!—on excursions to +places of interest in the neighbourhood, do you expect me to leave +her—no! it's worse than that—do you expect me to throw her aside like +an old dress that I have worn out? And this after I have so unjustly, +so ungratefully suspected her in my own thoughts? Shameful! shameful!" +</P> + +<P> +With some difficulty, Mountjoy controlled himself. After what she had +just said, his lips were sealed on the subject of Mrs. Vimpany's true +character. He could only persist in appealing to her duty to her +father. +</P> + +<P> +"You are allowing your quick temper to carry you to strange +extremities," he answered. "If I think it of more importance to hasten +a reconciliation with your father than to encourage you to make +excursions with a lady whom you have only known for a week or two, what +have I done to deserve such an outbreak of anger? Hush! Not a word more +now! Here is the lady herself." +</P> + +<P> +As he spoke, Mrs. Vimpany joined them; returning from her interview +with her husband at the inn. She looked first at Iris, and at once +perceived signs of disturbance in the young lady's face. +</P> + +<P> +Concealing her anxiety under that wonderful stage smile, which affords +a refuge to so many secrets, Mrs. Vimpany said a few words excusing her +absence. Miss Henley answered, without the slightest change in her +friendly manner to the doctor's wife. The signs of disturbance were +evidently attributable to some entirely unimportant cause, from Mrs. +Vimpany's point of view. Mr. Mountjoy's discoveries had not been +communicated yet. +</P> + +<P> +In Hugh's state of mind, there was some irritating influence in the +presence of the mistress of the house, which applied the spur to his +wits. He mischievously proposed submitting to her the question in +dispute between Iris and himself. +</P> + +<P> +"It is a very simple matter," he said to Mrs. Vimpany. "Miss Henley's +father is anxious that she should return to him, after an estrangement +between them which is happily at an end. Do you think she ought to +allow any accidental engagements to prevent her from going home at +once? If she requests your indulgence, under the circumstances, has she +any reason to anticipate a refusal?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany's expressive eyes looked up, with saintly resignation, at +the dirty ceiling—and asked in dumb show what she had done to deserve +the injury implied by a doubt. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Mountjoy," she said sternly, "you insult me by asking the +question."—"Dear Miss Henley," she continued, turning to Iris, <I>"you</I> +will do me justice, I am sure. Am I capable of allowing my own feelings +to stand in the way, when your filial duty is concerned? Leave me, my +sweet friend. Go! I entreat you, go home!" +</P> + +<P> +She retired up the stage—no, no; she withdrew to the other end of the +room—and burst into the most becoming of all human tears, theatrical +tears. Impulsive Iris hastened to comfort the personification of +self-sacrifice, the model of all that was most unselfish in female +submission. "For shame! for shame!" she whispered, as she passed +Mountjoy. +</P> + +<P> +Beaten again by Mrs. Vimpany—with no ties of relationship to justify +resistance to Miss Henley; with two women against him, entrenched +behind the privileges of their sex—the one last sacrifice of his own +feelings, in the interests of Iris, that Hugh could make was to control +the impulse which naturally urged him to leave the house. In the +helpless position in which he had now placed himself, he could only +wait to see what course Mrs. Vimpany might think it desirable to take. +Would she request him, in her most politely malicious way, to bring his +visit to an end? No: she looked at him—hesitated—directed a furtive +glance towards the view of the street from the window—smiled +mysteriously—and completed the sacrifice of her own feelings in these +words: +</P> + +<P> +"Dear Miss Henley, let me help you to pack up." +</P> + +<P> +Iris positively refused. +</P> + +<P> +"No," she said, "I don't agree with Mr. Mountjoy. My father leaves it +to me to name the day when we meet. I hold you, my dear, to our +engagement—I don't leave an affectionate friend as I might leave a +stranger." +</P> + +<P> +Even if Mr. Mountjoy communicated his discoveries to Miss Henley, on +the way home, there would be no danger now of her believing him. Mrs. +Vimpany put her powerful arm round the generous Iris, and, with +infinite grace, thanked her by a kiss. +</P> + +<P> +"Your kindness will make my lonely lot in life harder than ever to +bear," she murmured, "when you are gone." +</P> + +<P> +"But we may hope to meet in London," Iris reminded her; "unless Mr. +Vimpany alters his mind about leaving this place." +</P> + +<P> +"My husband will not do that, dear. He is determined to try his luck, +as he says, in London. In the meantime you will give me your address, +won't you? Perhaps you will even promise to write to me?" +</P> + +<P> +Iris instantly gave her promise, and wrote down her address in London. +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy made no attempt to interfere: it was needless. +</P> + +<P> +If the maid had not fallen ill on the journey, and if Mrs. Vimpany had +followed Miss Henley to London, there would have been little to fear in +the discovery of her address—and there was little to fear now. The +danger to Iris was not in what might happen while she was living under +her father's roof, but in what might happen if she was detained (by +plans for excursions) in Mr. Vimpany's house, until Lord Harry might +join her there. +</P> + +<P> +Rather than permit this to happen, Hugh (in sheer desperation) +meditated charging Mrs. Vimpany, to her face, with being the Irish +lord's spy, and proving the accusation by challenging her to produce +the registered letter and the diamond pin. +</P> + +<P> +While he was still struggling with his own reluctance to inflict this +degrading exposure on a woman, the talk between the two ladies came to +an end. Mrs. Vimpany returned again to the window. On this occasion, +she looked out into the street—with her handkerchief (was it used as a +signal?) exhibited in her hand. Iris, on her side, advanced to +Mountjoy. Easily moved to anger, her nature was incapable of sullen +perseverance in a state of enmity. To see Hugh still patiently +waiting—still risking the chances of insult—devoted to her, and +forgiving her—was at once a reproach that punished Iris, and a mute +appeal that no true woman's heart could resist. +</P> + +<P> +With tears in her eyes she said to him: "There must be no coolness +between you and me. I lost my temper, and spoke shamefully to you. My +dear, I am indeed sorry for it. You are never hard on me—you won't be +hard on me now?" +</P> + +<P> +She offered her hand to him. He had just raised it to his lips—when +the drawing-room door was roughly opened. They both looked round. +</P> + +<P> +The man of all others whom Hugh least desired to see was the man who +now entered the room. The victim of "light claret"—privately directed +to lurk in the street, until he saw a handkerchief fluttering at the +window—had returned to the house; primed with his clever wife's +instructions; ready and eager to be even with Mountjoy for the dinner +at the inn. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MR. VIMPANY ON INTOXICATION +</H3> + +<P> +THERE was no unsteadiness in the doctor's walk, and no flush on his +face. He certainly did strut when he entered the room; and he held up +his head with dignity, when he discovered Mountjoy. But he seemed to +preserve his self-control. Was the man sober again already? +</P> + +<P> +His wife approached him with her set smile; the appearance of her lord +and master filled Mrs. Vimpany with perfectly-assumed emotions of +agreeable surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"This is an unexpected pleasure," she said. "You seldom favour us with +your company, my dear, so early in the evening! Are there fewer +patients in want of your advice than usual?" +</P> + +<P> +"You are mistaken, Arabella. I am here in the performance of a painful +duty." +</P> + +<P> +The doctor's language, and the doctor's manner, presented him to Iris +in a character that was new to her. What effect had he produced on Mrs. +Vimpany? That excellent friend to travellers in distress lowered her +eyes to the floor, and modestly preserved silence. Mr. Vimpany +proceeded to the performance of his duty; his painful responsibility +seemed to strike him at first from a medical point of view. +</P> + +<P> +"If there is a poison which undermines the sources of life," he +remarked, "it is alcohol. If there is a vice that degrades humanity, it +is intoxication. Mr. Mountjoy, are you aware that I am looking at you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Impossible not to be aware of that," Hugh answered. "May I ask why you +are looking at me?" It was not easy to listen gravely to Mr. Vimpany's +denunciation of intemperance, after what had taken place at the dinner +of that day. Hugh smiled. The moral majesty of the doctor entered its +protest. +</P> + +<P> +"This is really shameful," he said. "The least you can do is to take it +seriously." +</P> + +<P> +"What is it?" Mountjoy asked. "And why am I to take it seriously?" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany's reply was, to say the least of it, indirect. If such an +expression may be permitted, it smelt of the stage. Viewed in +connection with Mrs. Vimpany's persistent assumption of silent +humility, it suggested to Mountjoy a secret understanding, of some +kind, between husband and wife. +</P> + +<P> +"What has become of your conscience, sir?" Mr. Vimpany demanded. "Is +that silent monitor dead within you? After giving me a bad dinner, do +you demand an explanation? Ha! you shall have it." +</P> + +<P> +Having delivered himself to this effect, he added action to words. +Walking grandly to the door, he threw it open, and saluted Mountjoy +with an ironical bow. Iris observed that act of insolence; her colour +rose, her eyes glittered. "Do you see what he has just done?" she said +to Mrs. Vimpany. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor's wife answered softly: "I don't understand it." After a +glance at her husband, she took Iris by the hand: "Dear Miss Henley, +shall we retire to my room?" +</P> + +<P> +Iris drew her hand away. "Not unless Mr. Mountjoy wishes it," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly not!" Hugh declared. "Pray remain here; your presence will +help me to keep my temper." He stepped up to Mr. Vimpany. "Have you any +particular reason for opening that door?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor was a rascal; but, to do him justice, he was no coward. +"Yes," he said, "I have a reason." +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, if you please?" +</P> + +<P> +"Christian forbearance," Mr. Vimpany answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Forbearance towards me?" Mountjoy continued. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor's dignity suddenly deserted him. +</P> + +<P> +"Aha, my boy, you have got it at last!" he cried. "It's pleasant to +understand each other, isn't it? You see, I'm a plain-spoken fellow; I +don't wish to give offence. If there's one thing more than another I +pride myself on, it's my indulgence for human frailty. But, in my +position here, I'm obliged to be careful. Upon my soul, I can't +continue my acquaintance with a man who—oh, come! come! don't look as +if you didn't understand me. The circumstances are against you, sir. +You have treated me infamously." +</P> + +<P> +"Under what circumstances have I treated you infamously?" Hugh asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Under pretence of giving me a dinner," Mr. Vimpany shouted—"the worst +dinner I ever sat down to!" +</P> + +<P> +His wife signed to him to be silent. He took no notice of her. She +insisted on being understood. "Say no more!" she warned him, in a tone +of command. +</P> + +<P> +The brute side of his nature, roused by Mountjoy's contemptuous +composure, was forcing its way outwards; he set his wife at defiance. +</P> + +<P> +"Then don't let him look at me as if he thought I was in a state of +intoxication!" cried the furious doctor. "There's the man, Miss, who +tried to make me tipsy," he went on, actually addressing himself to +Iris. "Thanks to my habits of sobriety, he has been caught in his own +trap. <I>He's</I> intoxicated. Ha, friend Mountjoy, have you got the right +explanation at last? There's the door, sir!" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany felt that this outrage was beyond endurance. If something +was not done to atone for it, Miss Henley would be capable—her face, +at that moment, answered for her—of leaving the house with Mr. +Mountjoy. Mrs. Vimpany seized her husband indignantly by the arm. +</P> + +<P> +"You brute, you have spoilt everything!" she said to him. "Apologise +directly to Mr. Mountjoy. You won't?" +</P> + +<P> +"I won't!" +</P> + +<P> +Experience had taught his wife how to break him to her will. "Do you +remember my diamond pin?" she whispered. +</P> + +<P> +He looked startled. Perhaps he thought she had lost the pin. +</P> + +<P> +"Where is it?" he asked eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"Gone to London to be valued. Beg Mr. Mountjoy's pardon, or I will put +the money in the bank—and not one shilling of it do you get." +</P> + +<P> +In the meanwhile, Iris had justified Mrs. Vimpany's apprehensions. Her +indignation noticed nothing but the insult offered to Hugh. She was too +seriously agitated to be able to speak to him. Still admirably calm, +his one anxiety was to compose her. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be afraid," he said; "it is impossible that I can degrade myself +by quarrelling with Mr. Vimpany. I only wait here to know what you +propose to do. You have Mrs. Vimpany to think of." +</P> + +<P> +"I have nobody to think of but You," Iris replied. "But for me, you +would never have been in this house. After the insult that has been +offered to you—oh, Hugh, I feel it too!—let us return to London +together. I have only to tell Rhoda we are going away, and to make my +preparations for travelling. Send for me from the inn, and I will be +ready in time for the next train." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany approached Mountjoy, leading her husband. +</P> + +<P> +"Sorry I have offended you," the doctor said. "Beg your pardon. It's +only a joke. No offence, I hope?" +</P> + +<P> +His servility was less endurable than his insolence. Telling him that +he need say no more, Mountjoy bowed to Mrs. Vimpany, and left the room. +She returned his bow mechanically, in silence. Mr. Vimpany followed +Hugh out—thinking of the diamond pin, and eager to open the house +door, as another act of submission which might satisfy his wife. +</P> + +<P> +Even a clever woman will occasionally make mistakes; especially when +her temper happens to have been roused. Mrs. Vimpany found herself in a +false position, due entirely to her own imprudence. +</P> + +<P> +She had been guilty of three serious errors. In the first place she had +taken it for granted that Mr. Vimpany's restorative mixture would +completely revive the sober state of his brains. In the second place, +she had trusted him with her vengeance on the man who had found his way +to her secrets through her husband's intemperance. In the third place, +she had rashly assumed that the doctor, in carrying out her +instructions for insulting Mountjoy, would keep within the limits which +she had prescribed to him, when she hit on the audacious idea of +attributing his disgraceful conduct to the temptation offered by his +host's example. As a consequence of these acts of imprudence, she had +exposed herself to a misfortune that she honestly dreaded—the loss of +the place which she had carefully maintained in Miss Henley's +estimation. In the contradictory confusion of feelings, so often found +in women, this deceitful and dangerous creature had been +conquered—little by little, as she had herself described it—by that +charm of sweetness and simplicity in Iris, of which her own depraved +nature presented no trace. She now spoke with hesitation, almost with +timidity, in addressing the woman whom she had so cleverly deceived, at +the time when they first met. +</P> + +<P> +"Must I give up all, Miss Henley, that I most value?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I hardly understand you, Mrs. Vimpany." +</P> + +<P> +"I will try to make it plainer. Do you really mean to leave me this +evening?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do." +</P> + +<P> +"May I own that I am grieved to hear it? Your departure will deprive me +of some happy hours, in your company." +</P> + +<P> +"Your husband's conduct leaves me no alternative," Iris replied. +</P> + +<P> +"Pray do not humiliate me by speaking of my husband! I only want to +know if there is a harder trial of my fortitude still to come. Must I +lose the privilege of being your friend?" +</P> + +<P> +"I hope I am not capable of such injustice as that," Iris declared. "It +would be hard indeed to lay the blame of Mr. Vimpany's shameful +behaviour on you. I don't forget that you made him offer an apology. +Some women, married to such a man as that, might have been afraid of +him. No, no; you have been a good friend to me—and I mean to remember +it." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany's gratitude was too sincerely felt to be expressed with +her customary readiness. She only said what the stupidest woman in +existence could have said: "Thank you." +</P> + +<P> +In the silence that followed, the rapid movement of carriage wheels +became audible in the street. The sound stopped at the door of the +doctor's house. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER X +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE MOCKERY OF DECEIT +</H3> + +<P> +HAD Mountjoy arrived to take Iris away, before her preparations for +travelling were complete? Both the ladies hurried to the window, but +they were too late. The rapid visitor, already hidden from them under +the portico, was knocking smartly at the door. In another minute, a +man's voice in the hall asked for "Miss Henley." The tones—clear, +mellow, and pleasantly varied here and there by the Irish accent—were +not to be mistaken by any one who had already hear them. The man in the +hall was Lord Harry. +</P> + +<P> +In that serious emergency, Mrs. Vimpany recovered her presence of mind. +</P> + +<P> +She made for the door, with the object of speaking to Lord Harry before +he could present himself in the drawing-room. But Iris had heard him +ask for her in the hall; and that one circumstance instantly stripped +of its concealments the character of the woman in whose integrity she +had believed. Her first impression of Mrs. Vimpany—so sincerely +repented, so eagerly atoned for—had been the right impression after +all! Younger, lighter, and quicker than the doctor's wife, Iris reached +the door first, and laid her hand on the lock. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait a minute," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany hesitated. For the first time in her life at a loss what +to say, she could only sign to Iris to stand back. Iris refused to +move. She put her terrible question in the plainest words: +</P> + +<P> +"How does Lord Harry know that I am in this house?" +</P> + +<P> +The wretched woman (listening intently for the sound of a step on the +stairs) refused to submit to a shameful exposure, even now. To her +perverted moral sense, any falsehood was acceptable, as a means of +hiding herself from discovery by Iris. In the very face of detection, +the skilled deceiver kept up the mockery of deceit. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear," she said, "what has come to you? Why won't you let me go to +my room?" +</P> + +<P> +Iris eyed her with a look of scornful surprise. "What next?" she said. +"Are you impudent enough to pretend that I have not found you out, +yet?" +</P> + +<P> +Sheer desperation still sustained Mrs. Vimpany's courage. She played +her assumed character against the contemptuous incredulity of Iris, as +she had sometimes played her theatrical characters against the hissing +and hooting of a brutal audience. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Henley," she said, "you forget yourself!" +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think I didn't see in your face," Iris rejoined, "that you +heard him, too? Answer my question." +</P> + +<P> +"What question?" +</P> + +<P> +"You have just heard it." +</P> + +<P> +"No!" +</P> + +<P> +"You false woman!" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't forget, Miss Henley, that you are speaking to a lady." +</P> + +<P> +"I am speaking to Lord Harry's spy!" +</P> + +<P> +Their voices rose loud; the excitement on either side had reached its +climax; neither the one nor the other was composed enough to notice the +sound of the carriage-wheels, leaving the house again. In the +meanwhile, nobody came to the drawing-room door. Mrs. Vimpany was too +well acquainted with the hot-headed Irish lord not to conclude that he +would have made himself heard, and would have found his way to Iris, +but for some obstacle, below stairs, for which he was not prepared. The +doctor's wife did justice to the doctor at last. Another person had, in +all probability, heard Lord Harry's voice—and that person might have +been her husband. +</P> + +<P> +Was it possible that he remembered the service which she had asked of +him; and, even if he had succeeded in calling it to mind, was his +discretion to be trusted? As those questions occurred to her, the +desire to obtain some positive information was more than she was able +to resist. Mrs. Vimpany attempted to leave the drawing-room for the +second time. +</P> + +<P> +But the same motive had already urged Miss Henley to action. Again, the +younger woman outstripped the older. Iris descended the stairs, +resolved to discover the cause of the sudden suspension of events in +the lower part of the house. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MRS. VIMPANY'S FAREWELL +</H3> + +<P> +THE doctor's wife followed Miss Henley out of the room, as far as the +landing—and waited there. +</P> + +<P> +She had her reasons for placing this restraint on herself. The position +of the landing concealed her from the view of a person in the hall. If +she only listened for the sound of voices she might safely discover +whether Lord Harry was, or was not, still in the house. In the first +event, it would be easy to interrupt his interview with Iris, before +the talk could lead to disclosures which Mrs. Vimpany had every reason +to dread. In the second event, there would be no need to show herself. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile, Iris opened the dining-room door and looked in. +</P> + +<P> +Nobody was there. The one other room on the ground floor, situated at +the back of the building, was the doctor's consulting-room. She knocked +at the door. Mr. Vimpany's voice answered: "Come in." There he was +alone, drinking brandy and water, and smoking his big black cigar. +</P> + +<P> +"Where is Lord Harry?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"In Ireland, I suppose," Mr. Vimpany answered quietly. +</P> + +<P> +Iris wasted no time in making useless inquiries. She closed the door +again, and left him. He, too, was undoubtedly in the conspiracy to keep +her deceived. How had it been done? Where was the wild lord, at that +moment? +</P> + +<P> +Whilst she was pursuing these reflections in the hall, Rhoda came up +from the servants' tea-table in the kitchen. Her mistress gave her the +necessary instructions for packing, and promised to help her before +long. Mrs. Vimpany's audacious resolution to dispute the evidence of +her own senses, still dwelt on Miss Henley's mind. Too angry to think +of the embarrassment which an interview with Lord Harry would produce, +after they had said their farewell words in Ireland, she was determined +to prevent the doctor's wife from speaking to him first, and claiming +him as an accomplice in her impudent denial of the truth. If he had +been, by any chance, deluded into leaving the house, he would sooner or +later discover the trick that had been played on him, and would +certainly return. Iris took a chair in the hall. +</P> + +<HR WIDTH="60%" ALIGN="center"> + +<P> +It is due to the doctor to relate that he had indeed justified his +wife's confidence in him. +</P> + +<P> +The diamond pin, undergoing valuation in London, still represented a +present terror in his mind. The money, the money—he was the most +attentive husband in England when he thought of the money! At the time +when Lord Harry's carriage stopped at his house-door, he was in the +dining-room, taking a bottle of brandy from the cellaret in the +sideboard. Looking instantly out of the window, he discovered who the +visitor was, and decided on consulting his instructions in the +pocket-diary. The attempt was rendered useless, as soon as he had +opened the book, by the unlucky activity of the servant in answering +the door. Her master stopped her in the hall. He was pleasantly +conscious of the recovery of his cunning. But his memory (far from +active under the most favourable circumstances) was slower than ever at +helping him now. On the spur of the moment he could only call to mind +that he had been ordered to prevent a meeting between Lord Harry and +Iris. "Show the gentleman into my consulting-room," he said. +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry found the doctor enthroned on his professional chair, +surprised and delighted to see his distinguished friend. The impetuous +Irishman at once asked for Miss Henley. +</P> + +<P> +"Gone," Mr. Vimpany answered +</P> + +<P> +"Gone—where?" the wild lord wanted to know next. +</P> + +<P> +"To London." +</P> + +<P> +"By herself?" +</P> + +<P> +"No; with Mr. Hugh Mountjoy." +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry seized the doctor by the shoulders, and shook him: "You +don't mean to tell me Mountjoy is going to marry her?" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany feared nothing but the loss of money. The weaker and the +older man of the two, he nevertheless followed the young lord's +example, and shook him with right good-will. "Let's see how you like it +in your turn," he said. "As for Mountjoy, I don't know whether he is +married or single—and don't care." +</P> + +<P> +"The devil take your obstinacy! When did they start?" +</P> + +<P> +"The devil take your questions! They started not long since." +</P> + +<P> +"Might I catch them at the station?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; if you go at once." +</P> + +<P> +So the desperate doctor carried out his wife's instructions—without +remembering the conditions which had accompanied them. +</P> + +<P> +The way to the station took Lord Harry past the inn. He saw Hugh +Mountjoy through the open house door paying his bill at the bar. In an +instant the carriage was stopped, and the two men (never on friendly +terms) were formally bowing to each other. +</P> + +<P> +"I was told I should find you," Lord Harry said, "with Miss Henley, at +the station." +</P> + +<P> +"Who gave you your information?" +</P> + +<P> +"Vimpany—the doctor." +</P> + +<P> +"He ought to know that the train isn't due at the station for an hour +yet." +</P> + +<P> +"Has the blackguard deceived me? One word more, Mr. Mountjoy. Is Miss +Henley at the inn?" +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you going with her to London?" +</P> + +<P> +"I must leave Miss Henley to answer that." +</P> + +<P> +"Where is she, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +"There is an end to everything, my lord, in the world we live in. You +have reached the end of my readiness to answer questions." The +Englishman and the Irishman looked at each other: the Anglo-Saxon was +impenetrably cool; the Celt was flushed and angry. They might have been +on the brink of a quarrel, but for Lord Harry's native quickness of +perception, and his exercise of it at that moment. When he had called +at Mr. Vimpany's house, and had asked for Iris, the doctor had got rid +of him by means of a lie. After this discovery, at what conclusion +could he arrive? The doctor was certainly keeping Iris out of his way. +Reasoning in this rapid manner, Lord Harry let one offence pass, in his +headlong eagerness to resent another. He instantly left Mountjoy. Again +the carriage rattled back along the street; but it was stopped before +it reached Mr. Vimpany's door. +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry knew the people whom he had to deal with, and took measures +to approach the house silently, on foot. The coachman received orders +to look out for a signal, which should tell him when he was wanted +again. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany's ears, vigilantly on the watch for suspicious events, +detected no sound of carriage wheels and no noisy use of the knocker. +Still on his guard, however, a ring at the house-bell disturbed him in +his consulting-room. Peeping into the hall, he saw Iris opening the +door, and stole back to his room. "The devil take her!" he said, +alluding to Miss Henley, and thinking of the enviable proprietor of the +diamond pin. +</P> + +<P> +At the unexpected appearance of Iris, Lord Harry forgot every +consideration which ought to have been present to his mind, at that +critical moment. +</P> + +<P> +He advanced to her with both hands held out in cordial greeting. She +signed to him contemptuously to stand back—and spoke in tones +cautiously lowered, after a glance at the door of the consulting-room. +</P> + +<P> +"My only reason for consenting to see you," she said, "is to protect +myself from further deception. Your disgraceful conduct is known to me. +Go now," she continued, pointing to the stairs, "and consult with your +spy, as soon as you like." The Irish lord listened—guiltily conscious +of having deserved what she had said to him—without attempting to +utter a word in excuse. +</P> + +<P> +Still posted at the head of the stairs, the doctor's wife heard Iris +speaking; but the tone was not loud enough to make the words +intelligible at that distance; neither was any other voice audible in +reply. Vaguely suspicions of some act of domestic treachery, Mrs. +Vimpany began to descend the stairs. At the turning which gave her a +view of the hall, she stopped; thunderstruck by the discovery of Lord +Harry and Miss Henley, together. +</P> + +<P> +The presence of a third person seemed, in some degree, to relieve Lord +Harry. He ran upstairs to salute Mrs. Vimpany, and was met again by a +cold reception and a hostile look. +</P> + +<P> +Strongly and strangely contrasted, the two confronted each other on the +stairs. The faded woman, wan and ghastly under cruel stress of mental +suffering, stood face to face with a fine, tall, lithe man, in the +prime of his health and strength. Here were the bright blue eyes, the +winning smile, and the natural grace of movement, which find their own +way to favour in the estimation of the gentler sex. This irreclaimable +wanderer among the perilous by-ways of the earth—christened "Irish +blackguard," among respectable members of society, when they spoke of +him behind his back—attracted attention, even among the men. Looking +at his daring, finely-formed face, they noticed (as an exception to a +general rule, in these days) the total suppression, by the razor, of +whiskers, moustache, and beard. Strangers wondered whether Lord Harry +was an actor or a Roman Catholic priest. Among chance acquaintances, +those few favourites of Nature who are possessed of active brains, +guessed that his life of adventure might well have rendered disguise +necessary to his safety, in more than one part of the world. Sometimes +they boldly put the question to him. The hot temper of an Irishman, in +moments of excitement, is not infrequently a sweet temper in moments of +calm. What they called Lord Harry's good-nature owned readily that he +had been indebted, on certain occasions, to the protection of a false +beard, And perhaps a colouring of his face and hair to match. The same +easy disposition now asserted itself, under the merciless enmity of +Mrs. Vimpany's eyes. "If I have done anything to offend you," he said, +with an air of puzzled humility, "I'm sure I am sorry for it. Don't be +angry, Arabella, with an old friend. Why won't you shake hands?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have kept your secret, and done your dirty work," Mrs. Vimpany +replied. "And what is my reward? Miss Henley can tell you how your +Irish blundering has ruined me in a lady's estimation. Shake hands, +indeed! You will never shake hands with Me again as long as you live!" +</P> + +<P> +She said those words without looking at him; her eyes were resting on +Iris now. From the moment when she had seen the two together, she knew +that it was all over; further denial in the face of plain proofs would +be useless indeed! Submission was the one alternative left. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Henley," she said, "if you can feel pity for another woman's +sorrow and shame, let me have a last word with you—out of this man's +hearing." +</P> + +<P> +There was nothing artificial in her tones or her looks; no acting could +have imitated the sad sincerity with which she spoke. Touched by that +change, Iris accompanied her as she ascended the stairs. After a little +hesitation, Lord Harry followed them. Mrs. Vimpany turned on him when +they reached the drawing-room landing. "Must I shut the door in your +face?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +He was as pleasantly patient as ever: +</P> + +<P> +"You needn't take the trouble to do that, my dear; I'll only ask your +leave to sit down and wait on the stairs. When you have done with Miss +Henley, just call me in. And, by the way, don't be alarmed in case of a +little noise—say a heavy man tumbling downstairs. If the blackguard +it's your misfortune to be married to happens to show himself, I shall +be under the necessity of kicking him. That's all." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany closed the door. She spoke to Iris respectfully, as she +might have addressed a stranger occupying a higher rank in life than +herself. +</P> + +<P> +"There is an end, madam, to one short acquaintance; and, as we both +know, an end to it for ever. When we first met—let me tell the truth +at last!—I felt a malicious pleasure in deceiving you. After that +time, I was surprised to find that you grew on my liking, Can you +understand the wickedness that tried to resist you? It was useless; +your good influence has been too strong for me. Strange, isn't it? I +have lived a life of deceit, among bad people. What could you expect of +me, after that? I heaped lies on lies—I would have denied that the sun +was in the heavens—rather than find myself degraded in your opinion. +Well! that is all over—useless, quite useless now. Pray don't mistake +me. I am not attempting to excuse myself; a confession was due to you; +the confession is made. It is too late to hope that you will forgive +me. If you will permit it, I have only one favour to ask. Forget me." +</P> + +<P> +She turned away with a last hopeless look, who said as plainly as if in +words: "I am not worth a reply." +</P> + +<P> +Generous Iris insisted on speaking to her. +</P> + +<P> +"I believe you are truly sorry for what you have done," she said; "I +can never forget that—I can never forget You." She held out her +pitying hand. Mrs. Vimpany was too bitterly conscious of the past to +touch it. Even a spy is not beneath the universal reach of the +heartache. There were tears in the miserable woman's eyes when she had +looked her last at Iris Henley. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +LORD HARRY's DEFENCE +</H3> + +<P> +AFTER a short interval, the drawing-room door was opened again. Waiting +on the threshold, the Irish lord asked if he might come in. +</P> + +<P> +Iris replied coldly. "This is not my house," she said; "I must leave +you to decide for yourself." +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry crossed the room to speak to her and stopped. There was no +sign of relenting towards him in that dearly-loved face. "I wonder +whether it would be a relief to you," he suggested with piteous +humility, "if I went away?" +</P> + +<P> +If she had been true to herself, she would have said, Yes. Where is the +woman to be found, in her place, with a heart hard enough to have set +her that example? She pointed to a chair. He felt her indulgence +gratefully. Following the impulse of the moment, he attempted to excuse +his conduct. +</P> + +<P> +"There is only one thing I can say for myself," he confessed, "I didn't +begin by deceiving you. While you had your eye on me, Iris, I was an +honourable man." +</P> + +<P> +This extraordinary defence reduced her to silence. Was there another +man in the world who would have pleaded for pardon in that way? "I'm +afraid I have not made myself understood," he said. "May I try again?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you please." +</P> + +<P> +The vagabond nobleman made a resolute effort to explain himself +intelligibly, this time: +</P> + +<P> +"See now! We said good-bye, over there, in the poor old island. Well, +indeed I meant it, when I owned that I was unworthy of you. <I>I</I> didn't +contradict you, when you said you could never be my wife, after such a +life as I have led. And, do remember, I submitted to your returning to +England, without presuming to make a complaint. Ah, my sweet girl, it +was easy to submit, while I could look at you, and hear the sound of +your voice, and beg for that last kiss—and get it. Reverend gentlemen +talk about the fall of Adam. What was that to the fall of Harry, when +he was back in his own little cottage, without the hope of ever seeing +you again? To the best of my recollection, the serpent that tempted Eve +was up a tree. I found the serpent that tempted Me, sitting waiting in +my own armchair, and bent on nothing worse than borrowing a trifle of +money. Need I say who she was? I don't doubt that you think her a +wicked woman." +</P> + +<P> +Never ready in speaking of acts of kindness, on her own part, Iris +answered with some little reserve: "I have learnt to think better of +Mrs. Vimpany than you suppose." +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry began to look like a happy man, for the first time since he +had entered the room. +</P> + +<P> +"I ought to have known it!" he burst out. "Yours is the well-balanced +mind, dear, that tempers justice with mercy. Mother Vimpany has had a +hard life of it. Just change places with her for a minute or so—and +you'll understand what she has had to go through. Find yourself, for +instance, in Ireland, without the means to take you back to England. +Add to that, a husband who sends you away to make money for him at the +theatre, and a manager (not an Irishman, thank God!) who refuses to +engage you—after your acting has filled his dirty pockets in past +days—because your beauty has faded with time. Doesn't your bright +imagination see it all now? My old friend Arabella, ready and anxious +to serve me—and a sinking at this poor fellow's heart when he knew, if +he once lost the trace of you, he might lose it for ever—there's the +situation, as they call it on the stage. I wish I could say for myself +what I may say for Mrs. Vimpany. It's such a pleasure to a clever woman +to engage in a little deceit—we can't blame her, can we?" +</P> + +<P> +Iris protested gently against a code of morality which included the +right of deceit among the privileges of the sex. Lord Harry slipped +through her fingers with the admirable Irish readiness; he agreed with +Miss Henley that he was entirely wrong. +</P> + +<P> +"And don't spare me while you're about it," he suggested. "Lay all the +blame of that shameful stratagem on my shoulders. It was a despicable +thing to do. When I had you watched, I acted in a manner—I won't say +unworthy of a gentleman; have I been a gentleman since I first ran away +from home? Why, it's even been said my way of speaking is no longer the +way of a gentleman; and small wonder, too, after the company I've kept. +Ah, well! I'm off again, darling, on a sea voyage. Will you forgive me +now? or will you wait till I come back, if I do come back? God knows!" +He dropped on his knees, and kissed her hand. "Anyway," he said, +"whether I live or whether I die, it will be some consolation to +remember that I asked your pardon—and perhaps got it." +</P> + +<P> +"Take it, Harry; I can't help forgiving you!" +</P> + +<P> +She had done her best to resist him, and she had answered in those +merciful words. +</P> + +<P> +The effect was visible, perilously visible, as he rose from his knees. +Her one chance of keeping the distance between them, on which she had +been too weak to insist, was not to encourage him by silence. Abruptly, +desperately, she made a commonplace inquiry about his proposed voyage. +"Tell me," she resumed, "where are you going when you leave England?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, to find money, dear, if I can—to pick up diamonds, or to hit on a +mine of gold, and so forth." +</P> + +<P> +The fine observation of Iris detected something not quite easy in his +manner, as he made that reply. He tried to change the subject: she +deliberately returned to it. "Your account of your travelling plans is +rather vague," she told him. "Do you know when you are likely to +return?" +</P> + +<P> +He took her hand. One of the rings on her fingers happened to be turned +the wrong way. He set it in the right position, and discovered an opal. +"Ah! the unlucky stone!" he cried, and turned it back again out of +sight. She drew away her hand. "I asked you," she persisted, "when you +expect to return?" +</P> + +<P> +He laughed—not so gaily as usual. +</P> + +<P> +"How do I know I shall ever get back?" he answered. "Sometimes the seas +turn traitor, and sometimes the savages. I have had so many narrow +escapes of my life, I can't expect my luck to last for ever." He made a +second attempt to change the subject. "I wonder whether you're likely +to pay another visit to Ireland? My cottage is entirely at your +disposal, Iris dear. Oh, when I'm out of the way, of course! The place +seemed to please your fancy, when you saw it. You will find it well +taken care of, I answer for that." +</P> + +<P> +Iris asked who was taking care of his cottage. +</P> + +<P> +The wild lord's face saddened. He hesitated; rose from his chair +restlessly, and walked away to the window; returned, and made up his +mind to reply. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, you know her. She was the old housekeeper at—" +</P> + +<P> +His voice failed him. He was unable, or unwilling, to pronounce the +name of Arthur's farm. +</P> + +<P> +Knowing, it is needless to say, that he had alluded to Mrs. Lewson, +Iris warmly commended him for taking care of her old nurse. At the same +time, she remembered the unfriendly terms in which the housekeeper had +alluded to Lord Harry, when they had talked of him. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you find no difficulty," she asked, "in persuading Mrs. Lewson to +enter your service?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, plenty of difficulty; I found my bad character in my way, as +usual." It was a relief to him, at that moment, to talk of Mrs. Lewson; +the Irish humour and the Irish accent both asserted themselves in his +reply. "The curious old creature told me to my face I was a scamp. I +took leave to remind her that it was the duty of a respectable person, +like herself, to reform scamps; I also mentioned that I was going away, +and she would be master and mistress too on my small property. That +softened her heart towards me. You will mostly find old women amenable, +if you get at them by way of their dignity. Besides, there was another +lucky circumstance that helped me. The neighbourhood of my cottage has +some attraction for Mrs. Lewson. She didn't say particularly what it +was—and I never asked her to tell me." +</P> + +<P> +"Surely you might have guessed it, without being told," Iris reminded +him. "Mrs. Lewson's faithful heart loves poor Arthur's memory—and +Arthur's grave is not far from your cottage." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't speak of him!" +</P> + +<P> +It was said loudly, peremptorily, passionately. He looked at her with +angry astonishment in his face. "You loved him too!" he said. "Can you +speak of him quietly? The noblest, truest, sweetest man that ever the +Heavens looked on, foully assassinated. And the wretch who murdered him +still living, free—oh, what is God's providence about?—is there no +retribution that will follow him? no just hand that will revenge +Arthur's death?" +</P> + +<P> +As those fierce words escaped him, he was no longer the easy, gentle, +joyous creature whom Iris had known and loved. The furious passions of +the Celtic race glittered savagely in his eyes, and changed to a grey +horrid pallor the healthy colour that was natural to his face. "Oh, my +temper, my temper!" he cried, as Iris shrank from him. "She hates me +now, and no wonder." He staggered away from her, and burst into a +convulsive fit of crying, dreadful to hear. Compassion, divine +compassion, mastered the earthlier emotion of terror in the great heart +of the woman who loved him. She followed him, and laid her hand +caressingly on his shoulder. "I don't hate you, my dear," she said. "I +am sorry for Arthur—and, oh, so sorry for You!" He caught her in his +arms. His gratitude, his repentance, his silent farewell were all +expressed in a last kiss. It was a moment, never to be forgotten to the +end of their lives. Before she could speak, before she could think, he +had left her. +</P> + +<P> +She called him back, through the open door. He never returned; he never +even replied. She ran to the window, and threw it up—and was just in +time to see him signal to the carriage and leap into it. Her horror of +the fatal purpose that was but too plainly rooted in him—her +conviction that he was on the track of the assassin, self devoted to +exact the terrible penalty of blood for blood—emboldened her to insist +on being heard. "Come back," she cried. "I must, I will, speak with +you." +</P> + +<P> +He waved his hand to her with a gesture of despair. "Start your +horses," he shouted to the coachman. Alarmed by his voice and his look, +the man asked where he should drive to. Lord Harry pointed furiously to +the onward road. "Drive," he answered, "to the Devil!" +</P> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE END OF THE FIRST PERIOD +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THE SECOND PERIOD +</H2> + +<BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IRIS AT HOME +</H3> + +<P> +A LITTLE more than four months had passed, since the return of Iris to +her father's house. +</P> + +<P> +Among other events which occurred, during the earlier part of that +interval, the course adopted by Hugh Mountjoy, when Miss Henley's +suspicions of the Irish lord were first communicated to him, claims a +foremost place. +</P> + +<P> +It was impossible that the devoted friend of Iris could look at her, +when they met again on their way to the station, without perceiving the +signs of serious agitation. Only waiting until they were alone in the +railway-carriage, she opened her heart unreservedly to the man in whose +clear intellect and true sympathy she could repose implicit trust. He +listened to what she could repeat of Lord Harry's language with but +little appearance of surprise. Iris had only reminded him of one, among +the disclosures which had escaped Mr. Vimpany at the inn. Under the +irresistible influence of good wine, the doctor had revealed the Irish +lord's motive for remaining in his own country, after the assassination +of Arthur Mountjoy. Hugh met the only difficulty in his way, without +shrinking from it. He resolved to clear his mind of its natural +prejudice against the rival who had been preferred to him, before he +assumed the responsibility of guiding Iris by his advice. +</P> + +<P> +When he had in some degree recovered confidence in his own unbiased +judgment, he entered on the question of Lord Harry's purpose in leaving +England. +</P> + +<P> +Without attempting to dispute the conclusion at which Iris had arrived, +he did his best to alleviate her distress. In his opinion, he was +careful to tell her, a discovery of the destination to which Lord Harry +proposed to betake himself, might be achieved. The Irish lord's +allusion to a new adventure, which would occupy him in searching for +diamonds or gold, might indicate a contemplated pursuit of the +assassin, as well as a plausible excuse to satisfy Iris. It was at +least possible that the murderer might have been warned of his danger +if he remained in England, and that he might have contemplated +directing his flight to a distant country, which would not only offer a +safe refuge, but also hold out (in its mineral treasures) a hope of +gain. Assuming that these circumstances had really happened, it was in +Lord Harry's character to make sure of his revenge, by embarking in the +steamship by which the assassin of Arthur Mountjoy was a passenger. +</P> + +<P> +Wild as this guess at the truth undoubtedly was, it had one merit: it +might easily be put to the test. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh had bought the day's newspaper at the station. He proposed to +consult the shipping advertisements relating, in the first place, to +communication with the diamond-mines and the goldfields of South +Africa. +</P> + +<P> +This course of proceeding at once informed him that the first steamer, +bound for that destination, would sail from London in two days' time. +The obvious precaution to take was to have the Dock watched; and +Mountjoy's steady old servant, who knew Lord Harry by sight, was the +man to employ. +</P> + +<P> +Iris naturally inquired what good end could be attained, if the +anticipated discovery actually took place. +</P> + +<P> +To this Mountjoy answered, that the one hope—a faint hope, he must +needs confess—of inducing Lord Harry to reconsider his desperate +purpose, lay in the influence of Iris herself. She must address a +letter to him, announcing that his secret had been betrayed by his own +language and conduct, and declaring that she would never again see him, +or hold any communication with him, if he persisted in his savage +resolution of revenge. Such was the desperate experiment which +Mountjoy's generous and unselfish devotion to Iris now proposed to try. +</P> + +<P> +The servant (duly entrusted with Miss Henley's letter) was placed on +the watch—and the event which had been regarded as little better than +a forlorn hope, proved to be the event that really took place. Lord +Harry was a passenger by the steamship. +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy's man presented the letter entrusted to him, and asked +respectfully if there was any answer. The wild lord read it—looked (to +use the messenger's own words) like a man cut to the heart—seemed at a +loss what to say or do—and only gave a verbal answer: "I sincerely +thank Miss Henley, and I promise to write when the ship touches at +Madeira." The servant continued to watch him when he went on board the +steamer; saw him cast a look backwards, as if suspecting that he might +have been followed; and then lost sight of him in the cabin. The vessel +sailed after a long interval of delay, but he never reappeared on the +deck. +</P> + +<P> +The ambiguous message sent to her aroused the resentment of Iris; she +thought it cruel. For some weeks perhaps to come, she was condemned to +remain in doubt, and was left to endure the trial of her patience, +without having Mountjoy at hand to encourage and console her. He had +been called away to the south of France by the illness of his father. +</P> + +<P> +But the fortunes of Miss Henley, at this period of her life, had their +brighter side. She found reason to congratulate herself on the +reconciliation which had brought her back to her father. Mr. Henley had +received her, not perhaps with affection, but certainly with kindness. +"If we don't get in each other's way, we shall do very well; I am glad +to see you again." That was all he had said to her, but it meant much +from a soured and selfish man. +</P> + +<P> +Her only domestic anxiety was caused by another failure in the health +of her maid. +</P> + +<P> +The Doctor declared that medical help would be of no avail, while Rhoda +Bennet remained in London. In the country she had been born and bred, +and to the country she must return. Mr. Henley's large landed property, +on the north of London, happened to include a farm in the neighbourhood +of Muswell Hill. Wisely waiting for a favourable opportunity, Iris +alluded to the good qualities which had made Rhoda almost as much her +friend as her servant, and asked leave to remove the invalid to the +healthy air of the farm. +</P> + +<P> +Her anxiety about the recovery of a servant so astonished Mr. Henley, +that he was hurried (as he afterwards declared) into granting his +daughter's request. After this concession, the necessary arrangements +were easily made. The influence of Iris won the goodwill of the farmer +and his wife; Rhoda, as an expert and willing needlewoman, being sure +of a welcome, for her own sake, in a family which included a number of +young children. Miss Henley had only to order her carriage, and to be +within reach of the farm. A week seldom passed without a meeting +between the mistress and the maid. +</P> + +<P> +In the meantime, Mountjoy (absent in France) did not forget to write to +Iris. +</P> + +<P> +His letters offered little hope of a speedy return. The doctors had not +concealed from him that his father's illness would end fatally; but +there were reserves of vital power still left, which might prolong the +struggle. Under these melancholy circumstances, he begged that Iris +would write to him. The oftener she could tell him of the little events +of her life at home, the more kindly she would brighten the days of a +dreary life. +</P> + +<P> +Eager to show, even in a trifling matter, how gratefully she +appreciated Mountjoy's past kindness, Iris related the simple story of +her life at home, in weekly letters addressed to her good friend. After +telling Hugh (among other things) of Rhoda's establishment at the farm, +she had some unexpected results to relate, which had followed the +attempt to provide herself with a new maid. +</P> + +<P> +Two young women had been successively engaged—each recommended, by the +lady whom she had last served, with that utter disregard of moral +obligation which appears to be shamelessly on the increase in the +England of our day. The first of the two maids, described as "rather +excitable," revealed infirmities of temper which suggested a lunatic +asylum as the only fit place for her. The second young woman, detected +in stealing eau-de-cologne, and using it (mixed with water) as an +intoxicating drink, claimed merciful construction of her misconduct, on +the ground that she had been misled by the example of her last +mistress. +</P> + +<P> +At the third attempt to provide herself with a servant, Iris was able +to report the discovery of a responsible person who told the truth—an +unmarried lady of middle age. +</P> + +<P> +In this case, the young woman was described as a servant thoroughly +trained in the performance of her duties, honest, sober, industrious, +of an even temper, and unprovided with a "follower" in the shape of a +sweetheart. Even her name sounded favourably in the ear of a +stranger—it was Fanny Mere. Iris asked how a servant, apparently +possessed of a faultless character, came to be in want of a situation. +At this question the lady sighed, and acknowledged that she had "made a +dreadful discovery," relating to the past life of her maid. It proved +to be the old, the miserably old, story of a broken promise of +marriage, and of the penalty paid as usual by the unhappy woman. "I +will say nothing of my own feelings," the maiden lady explained. "In +justice to the other female servants, it was impossible for me to keep +such a person in my house; and, in justice to you, I must most +unwillingly stand in the way of Fanny Mere's prospects by mentioning my +reason for parting with her." +</P> + +<P> +"If I could see the young woman and speak to her," Iris said, "I should +like to decide the question of engaging her, for myself." +</P> + +<P> +The lady knew the address of her discharged servant, and—with some +appearance of wonder—communicated it. Miss Henley wrote at once, +telling Fanny Mere to come to her on the following day. +</P> + +<P> +When she woke on the next morning, later than usual, an event occurred +which Iris had been impatiently expecting for some time past. She found +a letter waiting on her bedside table, side by side with her cup of +tea. Lord Harry had written to her at last. +</P> + +<P> +Whether he used his pen or his tongue, the Irish lord's conduct was +always more or less in need of an apology. Here were the guilty one's +new excuses, expressed in his customary medley of frank confession and +flowery language: +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"I am fearing, my angel, that I have offended you. You have too surely +said to yourself, This miserable Harry might have made me happy by +writing two lines—and what does he do? He sends a message in words +which tell me nothing. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"My sweet girl, the reason why is that I was in two minds when your man +stopped me on my way to the ship. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Whether it was best for you—I was not thinking of myself—to confess +the plain truth, or to take refuge in affectionate equivocation, was +more than I could decide at the time. When minutes are enough for your +intelligence, my stupidity wants days. Well! I saw it at last. A man +owes the truth to a true woman; and you are a true woman. There you +find a process of reasoning—I have been five days getting hold of it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"But tell me one thing first. Brutus killed a man; Charlotte Corday +killed a man. One of the two victims was a fine tyrant, and the other a +mean tyrant. Nobody blames those two historical assassins. Why then +blame me for wishing to make a third? Is a mere modern murderer beneath +my vengeance, by comparison with two classical tyrants who did <I>their</I> +murders by deputy? The man who killed Arthur Mountjoy is (next to Cain +alone) the most atrocious homicide that ever trod the miry ways of this +earth. There is my reply! I call it a crusher. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"So now my mind is easy. Darling, let me make your mind easy next. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"When I left you at the window of Vimpany's house, I was off to the +other railroad to find the murderer in his hiding-place by the seaside. +He had left it; but I got a trace, and went back to London—to the +Docks. Some villain in Ireland, who knows my purpose, must have turned +traitor. Anyhow, the wretch has escaped me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Yes; I searched the ship in every corner. He was not on board. Has he +gone on before me, by an earlier vessel? Or has he directed his flight +to some other part of the world? I shall find out in time. His day of +reckoning will come, and he, too, shall know a violent death! Amen. So +be it. Amen. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Have I done now? Bear with me, gentle Iris—there is a word more to +come. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"You will wonder why I went on by the steamship—all the way to South +Africa—when I had failed to find the man I wanted, on board. What was +my motive? You, you alone, are always my motive. Lucky men have found +gold, lucky men have found diamonds. Why should I not be one of them? +My sweet, let us suppose two possible things; my own elastic +convictions would call them two likely things, but never mind that. +Say, I come back a reformed character; there is your only objection to +me, at once removed! And take it for granted that I return with a +fortune of my own finding. In that case, what becomes of Mr. Henley's +objection to me? It melts (as Shakespeare says somewhere) into thin +air. Now do take my advice, for once. Show this part of my letter to +your excellent father, with my love. I answer beforehand for the +consequences. Be happy, my Lady Harry—as happy as I am—and look for +my return on an earlier day than you may anticipate. Yours till death, +and after. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"HARRY." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Like the Irish lord, Miss Henley was "in two minds," while she rose, +and dressed herself. There were parts of the letter for which she loved +the writer, and parts of it for which she hated him. +</P> + +<P> +What a prospect was before that reckless man—what misery, what horror, +might not be lying in wait in the dreadful future! If he failed in the +act of vengeance, that violent death of which he had written so +heedlessly might overtake him from another hand. If he succeeded, the +law might discover his crime, and the infamy of expiation on the +scaffold might be his dreadful end. She turned, shuddering, from the +contemplation of those hideous possibilities, and took refuge in the +hope of his safe, his guiltless return. Even if his visions of success, +even if his purposes of reform (how hopeless at his age!) were actually +realised, could she consent to marry the man who had led his life, had +written this letter, had contemplated (and still cherished) his +merciless resolution of revenge? No woman in her senses could let the +bare idea of being his wife enter her mind. Iris opened her +writing-desk, to hide the letter from all eyes but her own. As she +secured it with the key, her heart sank under the return of a terror +remembered but too well. Once more, the superstitious belief in a +destiny that was urging Lord Harry and herself nearer and nearer to +each other, even when they seemed to be most widely and most surely +separated, thrilled her under the chilling mystery of its presence. She +dropped helplessly into a chair. Oh, for a friend who could feel for +her, who could strengthen her, whose wise words could restore her to +her better and calmer self! Hugh was far away; and Iris was left to +suffer and to struggle alone. +</P> + +<P> +Heartfelt aspirations for help and sympathy! Oh, irony of +circumstances, how were they answered? The housemaid entered the room, +to announce the arrival of a discharged servant, with a lost character. +</P> + +<P> +"Let the young woman come in," Iris said. Was Fanny Mere the friend +whom she had been longing for? She looked at her troubled face in the +glass—and laughed bitterly. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE LADY'S MAID +</H3> + +<P> +IT was not easy to form a positive opinion of the young woman who now +presented herself in Miss Henley's room. +</P> + +<P> +If the Turkish taste is truly reported as valuing beauty in the female +figure more than beauty in the female face, Fanny Mere's personal +appearance might have found, in Constantinople, the approval which she +failed to receive in London. Slim and well balanced, firmly and neatly +made, she interested men who met her by accident (and sometimes even +women), if they happened to be walking behind her. When they quickened +their steps, and, passing on, looked back at her face, they lost all +interest in Fanny from that moment. Painters would have described the +defect in her face as "want of colour." She was one of the whitest of +fair female human beings. Light flaxen hair, faint blue eyes with no +expression in them, and a complexion which looked as if it had never +been stirred by a circulation of blood, produced an effect on her +fellow-creatures in general which made them insensible to the beauty of +her figure, and the grace of her movements. There was no betrayal of +bad health in her strange pallor: on the contrary, she suggested the +idea of rare physical strength. Her quietly respectful manner was, so +to say, emphasised by an underlying self-possession, which looked +capable of acting promptly and fearlessly in the critical emergencies +of life. Otherwise, the expression of character in her face was +essentially passive. Here was a steady, resolute young woman, possessed +of qualities which failed to show themselves on the surface—whether +good qualities or bad qualities experience alone could determine. +</P> + +<P> +Finding it impossible, judging by a first impression, to arrive at any +immediate decision favourable or adverse to the stranger, Iris opened +the interview with her customary frankness; leaving the consequences to +follow as they might. +</P> + +<P> +"Take a seat, Fanny," she said, "and let us try if we can understand +each other. I think you will agree with me that there must be no +concealments between us. You ought to know that your mistress has told +me why she parted with you. It was her duty to tell me the truth, and +it is my duty not to be unjustly prejudiced against you after what I +have heard. Pray believe me when I say that I don't know, and don't +wish to know, what your temptation may have been—" +</P> + +<P> +"I beg your pardon, Miss, for interrupting you. My temptation was +vanity." +</P> + +<P> +Whether she did or did not suffer in making that confession, it was +impossible to discover. Her tones were quiet; her manner was +unobtrusively respectful; the pallor of her face was not disturbed by +the slightest change of colour. Was the new maid an insensible person? +Iris began to fear already that she might have made a mistake. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't expect you to enter into particulars," she said; "I don't ask +you here to humiliate yourself." +</P> + +<P> +"When I got your letter, Miss, I tried to consider how I might show +myself worthy of your kindness," Fanny answered. "The one way I could +see was not to let you think better of me than I deserve. When a +person, like me, is told, for the first time, that her figure makes +amends for her face, she is flattered by the only compliment that has +been paid to her in all her life. My excuse, Miss (if I have an excuse) +is a mean one—-I couldn't resist a compliment. That is all I have to +say." +</P> + +<P> +Iris began to alter her opinion. This was not a young woman of the +ordinary type. It began to look possible, and more than possible, that +she was worthy of a helping hand. The truth seemed to be in her. +</P> + +<P> +"I understand you, and feel for you." Having replied in those words, +Iris wisely and delicately changed the subject. "Let me hear how you +are situated at the present time," she continued. "Are your parents +living?" +</P> + +<P> +"My father and mother are dead, Miss." +</P> + +<P> +"Have you any other relatives?" +</P> + +<P> +"They are too poor to be able to do anything for me. I have lost my +character—and I am left to help myself." +</P> + +<P> +"Suppose you fail to find another situation?" Iris suggested. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Miss?" +</P> + +<P> +"How can you help yourself?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can do what other girls have done." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"Some of us starve on needlework. Some take to the streets. Some end it +in the river. If there is no other chance for me, I think I shall try +that way," said the poor creature, as quietly as if she was speaking of +some customary prospect that was open to her. "There will be nobody to +be sorry for me—and, as I have read, drowning is not a very painful +death." +</P> + +<P> +"You shock me, Fanny! I, for one, should be sorry for you." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, Miss." +</P> + +<P> +"And try to remember," Iris continued, "that there may be chances in +the future which you don't see yet. You speak of what you have read, +and I have already noticed how clearly and correctly you express +yourself. You must have been educated. Was it at home? or at school? +</P> + +<P> +"I was once sent to school," Fanny replied, not quite willingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Was it a private school?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +That short answer warned Iris to be careful. +</P> + +<P> +"Recollections of school," she said good-humouredly, "are not the +pleasantest recollections in some of our lives. Perhaps I have touched +on a subject which is disagreeable to you?" +</P> + +<P> +"You have touched on one of my disappointments, Miss. While my mother +lived, she was my teacher. After her death, my father sent me to +school. When he failed in business, I was obliged to leave, just as I +had begun to learn and like it. Besides, the girls found out that I was +going away, because there was no money at home to pay the fees—and +that mortified me. There is more that I might tell you. I have a reason +for hating my recollections of the school—but I mustn't mention that +time in my life which your goodness to me tries to forget." +</P> + +<P> +All that appealed to her, so simply and so modestly, in that reply, was +not lost on Iris. After an interval of silence, she said: +</P> + +<P> +"Can you guess what I am thinking of, Fanny?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, Miss." +</P> + +<P> +"I am asking myself a question. If I try you in my service shall I +never regret it?" +</P> + +<P> +For the first time, strong emotion shook Fanny Mere. Her voice failed +her, in the effort to speak. Iris considerately went on. +</P> + +<P> +"You will take the place," she said, "of a maid who has been with me +for years—a good dear creature who has only left me through +ill-health. I must not expect too much of you; I cannot hope that you +will be to me what Rhoda Bennet has been." +</P> + +<P> +Fanny succeeded in controlling herself. "Is there any hope," she asked, +"of my seeing Rhoda Bennet?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why do you wish to see her?" +</P> + +<P> +"You are fond of her, Miss—-that is one reason." +</P> + +<P> +"And the other?" +</P> + +<P> +"Rhoda Bennet might help me to serve you as I want to serve you; she +might perhaps encourage me to try if I could follow her example." Fanny +paused, and clasped her hands fervently. The thought that was in her +forced its way to expression. "It's so easy to feel grateful," she +said—"and, oh, so hard to show it!" +</P> + +<P> +"Come to me," her new mistress answered, "and show it to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +Moved by that compassionate impulse, Iris said the words which restored +to an unfortunate creature a lost character and a forfeited place in +the world. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap15"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MR. HENLEY'S TEMPER +</H3> + +<P> +PROVIDED by nature with ironclad constitutional defences against +illness, Mr. Henley was now and then troubled with groundless doubts of +his own state of health. Acting under a delusion of this kind, he +imagined symptoms which rendered a change of residence necessary from +his town house to his country house, a few days only after his daughter +had decided on the engagement of her new maid. +</P> + +<P> +Iris gladly, even eagerly, adapted her own wishes to the furtherance of +her father's plans. Sorely tried by anxiety and suspense, she needed +all that rest and tranquillity could do for her. The first week in the +country produced an improvement in her health. Enjoying the serene +beauty of woodland and field, breathing the delicious purity of the +air—sometimes cultivating her own corner in the garden, and sometimes +helping the women in the lighter labours of the dairy—her nerves +recovered their tone, and her spirits rose again to their higher level. +</P> + +<P> +In the performance of her duties the new maid justified Miss Henley's +confidence in her, during the residence of the household in the +country. +</P> + +<P> +She showed, in her own undemonstrative way, a grateful sense of her +mistress's kindness. Her various occupations were intelligently and +attentively pursued; her even temper never seemed to vary; she gave the +servants no opportunities of complaining of her. But one peculiarity in +her behaviour excited hostile remark, below-stairs. On the occasions +when she was free to go out for the day, she always found some excuse +for not joining any of the other female servants, who might happen to +be similarly favoured. The one use she made of her holiday was to +travel by railway to some place unknown; always returning at the right +time in the evening. Iris knew enough of the sad circumstances to be +able to respect her motives, and to appreciate the necessity for +keeping the object of these solitary journeys a secret from her +fellow-servants. +</P> + +<P> +The pleasant life in the country house had lasted for nearly a month, +when the announcement of Hugh's approaching return to England reached +Iris. The fatal end of his father's long and lingering illness had +arrived, and the funeral had taken place. Business, connected with his +succession to the property, would detain him in London for a few days. +Submitting to this necessity, he earnestly expressed the hope of seeing +Iris again, the moment he was at liberty. +</P> + +<P> +Hearing the good news, Mr. Henley obstinately returned to his +plans—already twice thwarted—for promoting the marriage of Mountjoy +and Iris. +</P> + +<P> +He wrote to invite Hugh to his house in a tone of cordiality which +astonished his daughter; and when the guest arrived, the genial welcome +of the host had but one defect—Mr. Henley overacted his part. He gave +the two young people perpetual opportunities of speaking to each other +privately; and, on the principle that none are so blind as those who +won't see, he failed to discover that the relations between them +continued to be relations of friendship, do what he might. Hugh's long +attendance on his dying father had left him depressed in spirits; Iris +understood him, and felt for him. He was not ready with his opinion of +the new maid, after he had seen Fanny Mere. "My inclination," he said, +"is to trust the girl. And yet, I hesitate to follow my +inclination—and I don't know why." +</P> + +<P> +When Hugh's visit came to an end, he continued his journey in a +northerly direction. The property left to him by his father included a +cottage, standing in its own grounds, on the Scotch shore of the Solway +Firth. The place had been neglected during the long residence of the +elder Mr. Mountjoy on the Continent. Hugh's present object was to +judge, by his own investigation, of the necessity for repairs. +</P> + +<P> +On the departure of his guest, Mr. Henley (still obstinately hopeful of +the marriage on which he had set his mind) assumed a jocular manner +towards Iris, and asked if the Scotch cottage was to be put in order +for the honeymoon. Her reply, gently as it was expressed, threw him +into a state of fury. His vindictive temper revelled, not only in harsh +words, but in spiteful actions. He sold one of his dogs which had +specially attached itself to Iris; and, seeing that she still enjoyed +the country, he decided on returning to London. +</P> + +<P> +She submitted in silence. But the events of that past time, when her +father's merciless conduct had driven her out of his house, returned +ominously to her memory. She said to herself: "Is a day coming when I +shall leave him again?" It was coming—and she little knew how. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap16"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE DOCTOR IN FULL DRESS +</H3> + +<P> +MR. HENLEY'S household had been again established in London, when a +servant appeared one morning with a visiting card, and announced that a +gentleman had called who wished to see Miss Henley. She looked at the +card. The gentleman was Mr. Vimpany. +</P> + +<P> +On the point of directing the man to say that she was engaged, Iris +checked herself. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany's farewell words had produced a strong impression on her. +There had been moments of doubt and gloom in her later life, when the +remembrance of that unhappy woman was associated with a feeling +(perhaps a morbid feeling) of self-reproach. It seemed to be hard on +the poor penitent wretch not to have written to her. Was she still +leading the same dreary life in the mouldering old town? Or had she +made another attempt to return to the ungrateful stage? The gross +husband, impudently presenting himself with his card and his message, +could answer those questions if he could do nothing else. For that +reason only Iris decided that she would receive Mr. Vimpany. +</P> + +<P> +On entering the room, she found two discoveries awaiting her, for which +she was entirely unprepared. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor's personal appearance exhibited a striking change; he was +dressed, in accordance with the strictest notions of professional +propriety, entirely in black. More remarkable still, there happened to +be a French novel among the books on the table—and that novel Mr. +Vimpany, barbarous Mr. Vimpany, was actually reading with an appearance +of understanding it! +</P> + +<P> +"I seem to surprise you," said the doctor. "Is it this?" He held up the +French novel as he put the question. +</P> + +<P> +"I must own that I was not aware of the range of your accomplishments," +Iris answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, don't talk of accomplishments! I learnt my profession in Paris. +For nigh on three years I lived among the French medical students. +Noticing this book on the table, I thought I would try whether I had +forgotten the language—in the time that has passed (you know) since +those days. Well, my memory isn't a good one in most things, but +strange to say (force of habit, I suppose), some of my French sticks by +me still. I hope I see you well, Miss Henley. Might I ask if you +noticed the new address, when I sent up my card?" +</P> + +<P> +"I only noticed your name." +</P> + +<P> +The doctor produced his pocket-book, and took out a second card. With +pride he pointed to the address: "5 Redburn Road, Hampstead Heath." +With pride he looked at his black clothes. "Strictly professional, +isn't it?" he said. "I have bought a new practice; and I have become a +new man. It isn't easy at first. No, by jingo—I beg your pardon—I was +about to say, my own respectability rather bothers me; I shall get used +to it in time. If you will allow me, I'll take a liberty. No offence, I +hope?" +</P> + +<P> +He produced a handful of his cards, and laid them out in a neat little +semicircle on the table. +</P> + +<P> +"A word of recommendation, when you have the chance, would be a +friendly act on your part," he explained. "Capital air in Redburn Road, +and a fine view of the Heath out of the garret windows—but it's rather +an out-of-the-way situation. Not that I complain; beggars mustn't be +choosers. I should have preferred a practice in a fashionable part of +London; but our little windfall of money—" +</P> + +<P> +He came to a full stop in the middle of a sentence. The sale of the +superb diamond pin, by means of which Lord Harry had repaid Mrs. +Vimpany's services, was, of all domestic events, the last which it +might be wise to mention in the presence of Miss Henley. He was +awkwardly silent. Taking advantage of that circumstance, Iris +introduced the subject in which she felt interested. +</P> + +<P> +"How is Mrs. Vimpany?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, she's all right!" +</P> + +<P> +"Does she like your new house?" +</P> + +<P> +The doctor made a strange reply. "I really can't tell you," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean that Mrs. Vimpany declines to express an opinion?" +</P> + +<P> +He laughed. "In all my experience," he said, "I never met with a woman +who did that! No, no; the fact is, my wife and I have parted company. +There's no need to look so serious about it! Incompatibility of temper, +as the saying is, has led us to a friendly separation. Equally a relief +on both sides. She goes her way, I go mine." +</P> + +<P> +His tone disgusted Iris—and she let him see it. "Is it of any use to +ask you for Mrs. Vimpany's address?" she inquired. +</P> + +<P> +His atrocious good-humour kept its balance as steadily as ever: "Sorry +to disappoint you. Mrs. Vimpany hasn't given me her address. Curious, +isn't it? The fact is, she moped a good deal, after you left us; talked +of her duty, and the care of her soul, and that sort of thing. When I +hear where she is, I'll let you know with pleasure. To the best of my +belief, she's doing nurse's work somewhere." +</P> + +<P> +"Nurse's work? What do you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, the right thing—all in the fashion. She belongs to what they call +a Sisterhood; goes about, you know, in a shabby black gown, with a poke +bonnet. At least, so Lord Harry told me the other day." +</P> + +<P> +In spite of herself, Iris betrayed the agitation which those words +instantly roused in her. "Lord Harry!" she exclaimed. "Where is he? In +London?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—at Parker's Hotel." +</P> + +<P> +"When did he return?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, a few days ago; and—what do you think?—he's come back from the +goldfields a lucky man. Damn it, I've let the cat out of the bag! I was +to keep the thing a secret from everybody, and from you most +particularly. He's got some surprise in store for you. Don't tell him +what I've done! We had a little misunderstanding, in past days, at +Honeybuzzard—and, now we are friends again, I don't want to lose his +lordship's interest." +</P> + +<P> +Iris promised to be silent. But to know that the wild lord was in +England again, and to remain in ignorance whether he had, or had not, +returned with the stain of bloodshed on him, was more than she could +endure. +</P> + +<P> +"There is one question I must ask you," she said. "I have reason to +fear that Lord Harry left this country, with a purpose of revenge—" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany wanted no further explanation. "Yes, yes; I know. You may +be easy about that. There's been no mischief done, either one way or +the other. The man he was after, when he landed in South Africa (he +told me so himself) has escaped him." +</P> + +<P> +With that reply, the doctor got up in a hurry to bring his visit to an +end. He proposed to take to flight, he remarked facetiously, before +Miss Henley wheedled him into saying anything more. +</P> + +<P> +After opening the door, however, he suddenly returned to Iris, and +added a last word in the strictest confidence. +</P> + +<P> +"If you won't forget to recommend me to your friends," he said, "I'll +trust you with another secret. You will see his lordship in a day or +two, when he returns from the races. Good-bye." +</P> + +<P> +The races! What was Lord Harry doing at the races? +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap17"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ON HAMPSTEAD HEATH +</H3> + +<P> +IRIS had only to remember the manner in which she and Mountjoy had +disappointed her father, to perceive the serious necessity of +preventing Mountjoy's rival from paying a visit at Mr. Henley's house. +</P> + +<P> +She wrote at once to Lord Harry, at the hotel which Mr. Vimpany had +mentioned, entreating him not to think of calling on her. Being well +aware that he would insist on a meeting, she engaged to write again and +propose an appointment. In making this concession, Iris might have +found it easier to persuade herself that she was yielding to sheer +necessity, if she had not been guiltily conscious of a feeling of +pleasure at the prospect of seeing Lord Harry again, returning to her +an innocent man. There was some influence, in this train of thought, +which led her mind back to Hugh. She regretted his absence—wondered +whether he would have proposed throwing her letter to the Irish lord +into the fire—sighed, closed the envelope, and sent the letter to the +post. +</P> + +<P> +On the next day, she had arranged to drive to Muswell Hill, and to pay +the customary visit to Rhoda. Heavy rain obliged her to wait for a +fitter opportunity. It was only on the third day that the sky cleared, +and the weather was favourable again. On a sunshiny autumn morning, +with a fine keen air blowing, she ordered the open carriage. Noticing, +while Fanny Mere was helping her to dress, that the girl looked even +paler than usual, she said, with her customary kindness to persons +dependent on her, "You look as if a drive in the fresh air would do you +good—you shall go with me to the farm, and see Rhoda Bennet." +</P> + +<P> +When they stopped at the house, the farmer's wife appeared, attending a +gentleman to the door. Iris at once recognised the local medical man. +"You're not in attendance, I hope, on Rhoda Bennet?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor acknowledged that there had been some return of the nervous +derangement from which the girl suffered. He depended mainly (he said) +on the weather allowing her to be out as much as possible in the fresh +air, and on keeping her free from all agitation. Rhoda was so far on +the way to recovery, that she was now walking in the garden by his +advice. He had no fear of her, provided she was not too readily +encouraged, in her present state, to receive visitors. Her mistress +would be, of course, an exception to this rule. But even Miss Henley +would perhaps do well not to excite the girl by prolonging her visit. +There was one other suggestion which he would venture to make, while he +had the opportunity. Rhoda was not, as he thought, warmly enough +clothed for the time of year; and a bad cold might be easily caught by +a person in her condition. +</P> + +<P> +Iris entered the farm-house; leaving Fanny Mere, after what the doctor +had said on the subject of visitors, to wait for her in the carriage. +</P> + +<P> +After an absence of barely ten minutes Miss Henley returned; personally +changed, not at all to her own advantage, by the introduction of a +novelty in her dress. She had gone into the farmhouse, wearing a +handsome mantle of sealskin. When she came out again, the mantle had +vanished, and there appeared in its place a common cloak of +drab-coloured cloth. Noticing the expression of blank amazement in the +maid's face, Iris burst out laughing. +</P> + +<P> +"How do you think I look in my new cloak?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +Fanny saw nothing to laugh at in the sacrifice of a sealskin mantle. "I +must not presume, Miss, to give an opinion," she said gravely. +</P> + +<P> +"At any rate," Iris continued, "you must be more than mortal if my +change of costume doesn't excite your curiosity. I found Rhoda Bennet +in the garden, exposed to the cold wind in this ugly flimsy thing. +After what the doctor had told me, it was high time to assert my +authority. I insisted on changing cloaks with Rhoda. She made an +attempt, poor dear, to resist; but she knows me of old—and I had my +way. I am sorry you have been prevented from seeing her; you shall not +miss the opportunity when she is well again. Do you admire a fine view? +Very well; we will vary the drive on our return. Go back," she said to +the coachman, "by Highgate and Hampstead." +</P> + +<P> +Fanny's eyes rested on the shabby cloak with a well-founded distrust of +it as a protection against the autumn weather. She ventured to suggest +that her mistress might feel the loss (in an open carriage) of the warm +mantle which she had left on Rhoda's shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +Iris made light of the doubt expressed by her maid. But by the time +they had passed Highgate, and had approached the beginning of the +straight road which crosses the high ridge of Hampstead Heath, she was +obliged to acknowledge that she did indeed feel the cold. "You ought to +be a good walker," she said, looking at her maid's firm well-knit +figure. "Exercise is all I want to warm me. What do you say to going +home on foot?" Fanny was ready and willing to accompany her mistress. +The carriage was dismissed, and they set forth on their walk. +</P> + +<P> +As they passed the inn called "The Spaniards," two women who were +standing at the garden gate stared at Iris, and smiled. A few paces +further on, they were met by an errand-boy. He too looked at the young +lady, and put his hand derisively to his head, with a shrill whistle +expressive of malicious enjoyment. "I appear to amuse these people," +Iris said. "What do they see in me?" +</P> + +<P> +Fanny answered with an effort to preserve her gravity, which was not +quite successfully disguised: "I beg your pardon, Miss; I think they +notice the curious contrast between your beautiful bonnet and your +shabby cloak." +</P> + +<P> +Persons of excitable temperament have a sense of ridicule, and a dread +of it, unintelligible to their fellow-creatures who are made of coarser +material. For the moment, Iris was angry. "Why didn't you tell me of +it," she asked sharply, "before I sent away the carriage? How can I +walk back, with everybody laughing at me?" +</P> + +<P> +She paused—reflected a little—and led the way off the high road, on +the right, to the fine clump of fir-trees which commands the famous +view in that part of the Heath. +</P> + +<P> +"There's but one thing to be done," she said, recovering her good +temper; "we must make my grand bonnet suit itself to my miserable +cloak. You will pull out the feather and rip off the lace (and keep +them for yourself, if you like), and then I ought to look shabby enough +from head to foot, I am sure! No; not here; they may notice us from the +road—and what may the fools not do when they see you tearing the +ornaments off my bonnet! Come down below the trees, where the ground +will hide us." +</P> + +<P> +They had nearly descended the steep slope which leads to the valley, +below the clump of firs, when they were stopped by a terrible +discovery. +</P> + +<P> +Close at their feet, in a hollow of the ground, was stretched the +insensible body of a man. He lay on his side, with his face turned away +from them. An open razor had dropped close by him. Iris stooped over +the prostate man, to examine his face. Blood flowing from a frightful +wound in his throat, was the first thing that she saw. Her eyes closed +instinctively, recoiling from that ghastly sight. The next instant she +opened them again, and saw his face. +</P> + +<P> +Dying or dead, it was the face of Lord Harry. +</P> + +<P> +The shriek that burst from her, on making that horrible discovery, was +heard by two men who were crossing the lower heath at some distance. +They saw the women, and ran to them. One of the men was a labourer; the +other, better dressed, looked like a foreman of works. He was the first +who arrived on the spot. +</P> + +<P> +"Enough to frighten you out of your senses, ladies," he said civilly. +"It's a case of suicide, I should say, by the look of it." +</P> + +<P> +"For God's sake, let us do something to help him!" Iris burst out. "I +know him! I know him!" +</P> + +<P> +Fanny, equal to the emergency, asked Miss Henley for her handkerchief, +joined her own handkerchief to it, and began to bandage the wound. "Try +if his pulse is beating," she said quietly to her mistress. The foreman +made himself useful by examining the suicide's pockets. Iris thought +she could detect a faint fluttering in the pulse. "Is there no doctor +living near?" she cried. "Is there no carriage to be found in this +horrible place?" +</P> + +<P> +The foreman had discovered two letters. Iris read her own name on one +of them. The other was addressed "To the person who may find my body." +She tore the envelope open. It contained one of Mr. Vimpany's cards, +with these desperate words written on it in pencil: "Take me to the +doctor's address, and let him bury me, or dissect me, whichever he +pleases." Iris showed the card to the foreman. "Is it near here?" she +asked. "Yes, Miss; we might get him to that place in no time, if there +was a conveyance of any kind to be found." Still preserving her +presence of mind, Fanny pointed in the direction of "The Spaniards" +inn. "We might get what we want there," she said. "Shall I go?" +</P> + +<P> +Iris signed to her to attend to the wounded man, and ascended the +sloping ground. She ran on towards the road. The men, directed by +Fanny, raised the body and slowly followed her, diverging to an easier +ascent. As Iris reached the road, a four-wheel cab passed her. Without +an instant's hesitation, she called to the driver to stop. He pulled up +his horse. She confronted a solitary gentleman, staring out of the +window of the cab, and looking as if he thought that a lady had taken a +liberty with him. Iris allowed the outraged stranger no opportunity of +expressing his sentiments. Breathless as she was, she spoke first. +</P> + +<P> +"Pray forgive me—you are alone in the cab—there is room for a +gentleman, dangerously wounded—he will bleed to death if we don't find +help for him—the place is close by—oh, don't refuse me!" She looked +back, holding fast by the cab door, and saw Fanny and the men slowly +approaching. "Bring him here!" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +"Do nothing of the sort!" shouted the gentleman in possession of the +cab. +</P> + +<P> +But Fanny obeyed her mistress; and the men obeyed Fanny. Iris turned +indignantly to the merciless stranger. "I ask you to do an act of +Christian kindness," she said. "How can you, how dare you, hesitate?" +</P> + +<P> +"Drive on!" cried the stranger. +</P> + +<P> +"Drive on, at your peril," Iris added, on her side. +</P> + +<P> +The cabman sat, silent and stolid, on the box, waiting for events. +</P> + +<P> +Slowly the men came in view, bearing Lord Harry, still insensible. The +handkerchiefs on his throat were saturated with blood. At that sight, +the cowardly instincts of the stranger completely mastered him. "Let me +out!" he clamoured; "let me out!" +</P> + +<P> +Finding the cab left at her disposal, Iris actually thanked him! He +looked at her with an evil eye. "I have my suspicions, I can tell you," +he muttered. "If this comes to a trial in a court of law, I'm not going +to be mixed up with it. Innocent people have been hanged before now, +when appearances were against them." +</P> + +<P> +He walked off; and, by way of completing the revelation of his own +meanness, forgot to pay his fare. +</P> + +<P> +On the point of starting the horse to pursue him, the cabman was +effectually stopped. Iris showed him a sovereign. Upon this hint (like +Othello) he spoke. +</P> + +<P> +"All right, Miss. I see your poor gentleman is a-bleeding. You'll take +care—won't you?—that he doesn't spoil my cushions." The driver was +not a ill-conditioned man; he put the case of his property indulgently, +with a persuasive smile. Iris turned to the two worthy fellows, who had +so readily given her their help, and bade them good-bye, with a solid +expression of her gratitude which they both remembered for many a long +day to come. Fanny was already in the cab supporting Lord Harry's body. +Iris joined her. The cabman drove carefully to Mr. Vimpany's new house. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap18"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PROFESSIONAL ASSISTANCE +</H3> + +<P> +NUMBER Five was near the centre of the row of little suburban houses +called Redburn Road. +</P> + +<P> +When the cab drew up at the door Mr. Vimpany himself was visible, +looking out of the window on the ground floor—and yawning as he +looked. Iris beckoned to him impatiently. "Anything wrong?" he asked, +as he approached the door of the cab. She drew back, and silently +showed him what was wrong. The doctor received the shock with +composure. When he happened to be sober and sad, looking for patients +and failing to find them, Mr. Vimpany's capacity for feeling sympathy +began and ended with himself. +</P> + +<P> +"This is a new scrape, even for Lord Harry," he remarked. "Let's get +him into the house." +</P> + +<P> +The insensible man was carried into the nearest room on the ground +floor. Pale and trembling, Iris related what had happened, and asked if +there was no hope of saving him. +</P> + +<P> +"Patience!" Mr. Vimpany answered; "I'll tell you directly." +</P> + +<P> +He removed the bandages, and examined the wound. "There's been a deal +of blood lost," he said; "I'll try and pull him through. While I am +about it, Miss, go upstairs, if you please, and find your way to the +drawing-room." Iris hesitated. The doctor opened a neat mahogany box. +"The tools of my trade," he continued; "I'm going to sew up his +lordship's throat." Shuddering as she heard those words, Iris hurried +out of the room. Fanny followed her mistress up the stairs. In her own +very different way, the maid was as impenetrably composed as Mr. +Vimpany himself. "There was a second letter found in the gentleman's +pocket, Miss," she said. "Will you excuse my reminding you that you +have not read it yet." +</P> + +<P> +Iris read the lines that follow: +</P> + +<P> +"Forgive me, my dear, for the last time. My letter is to say that I +shall trouble you no more in this world—and, as for the other world, +who knows? I brought some money back with me, from the goldfields. It +was not enough to be called a fortune—I mean the sort of fortune which +might persuade your father to let you marry me. Well! here in England, +I had an opportunity of making ten times more of it on the turf; and, +let me add, with private information of the horses which I might +certainly count on to win. I don't stop to ask by what cruel roguery I +was tempted to my ruin. My money is lost; and, with it, my last hope of +a happy and harmless life with you comes to an end. I die, Iris dear, +with the death of that hope. Something in me seems to shrink from +suicide in the ugly gloom of great overgrown London. I prefer to make +away with myself among the fields, where the green will remind me of +dear old Ireland. When you think of me sometimes, say to yourself the +poor wretch loved me—and perhaps the earth will lie lighter on Harry +for those kind words, and the flowers (if you favour me by planting a +few) may grow prettier on my grave." +</P> + +<P> +There it ended. +</P> + +<P> +The heart of Iris sank as she read that melancholy farewell, expressed +in language at once wild and childish. If he survived his desperate +attempt at self-destruction, to what end would it lead? In silence, the +woman who loved him put his letter back in her bosom. Watching her +attentively—affected, it was impossible to say how, by that mute +distress—Fanny Mere proposed to go downstairs, and ask once more what +hope there might be for the wounded man. Iris knew the doctor too well +to let the maid leave her on a useless errand. +</P> + +<P> +"Some men might be kindly ready to relieve my suspense," she said; "the +man downstairs is not one of them. I must wait till he comes to me, or +sends for me. But there is something I wish to say to you, while we are +alone. You have been but a short time in my service, Fanny. Is it too +soon to ask if you feel some interest in me?" +</P> + +<P> +"If I can comfort you or help you, Miss, be pleased to tell me how." +She made that reply respectfully, in her usual quiet manner; her pale +cheeks showing no change of colour, her faint blue eyes resting +steadily on her mistress's face. Iris went on: +</P> + +<P> +"If I ask you to keep what has happened, on this dreadful day, a secret +from everybody, may I trust you—little as you know of me—as I might +have trusted Rhoda Bennet?" +</P> + +<P> +"I promise it, Miss." In saying those few words, the undemonstrative +woman seemed to think that she had said enough. +</P> + +<P> +Iris had no alternative but to ask another favour. +</P> + +<P> +"And whatever curiosity you may feel, will you be content to do me a +kindness—without wanting an explanation?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is my duty to respect my mistress's secrets; I will do my duty." No +sentiment, no offer of respectful sympathy; a positive declaration of +fidelity, left impenetrably to speak for itself. Was the girl's heart +hardened by the disaster which had darkened her life? Or was she the +submissive victim of that inbred reserve, which shrinks from the frank +expression of feeling, and lives and dies self-imprisoned in its own +secrecy? A third explanation, founded probably on a steadier basis, was +suggested by Miss Henley's remembrance of their first interview. +Fanny's nature had revealed a sensitive side, when she was first +encouraged to hope for a refuge from ruin followed perhaps by +starvation and death. Judging so far from experience, a sound +conclusion seemed to follow. When circumstances strongly excited the +girl, there was a dormant vitality in her that revived. At other times +when events failed to agitate her by a direct appeal to personal +interests, her constitutional reserve held the rule. She could be +impenetrably honest, steadily industrious, truly grateful—but the +intuitive expression of feeling, on ordinary occasions, was beyond her +reach. +</P> + +<P> +After an interval of nearly half an hour, Mr. Vimpany made his +appearance. Pausing in the doorway, he consulted his watch, and entered +on a calculation which presented him favourably from a professional +point of view. +</P> + +<P> +"Allow for time lost in reviving my lord when he fainted, and stringing +him up with a drop of brandy, and washing my hands (look how clean they +are!), I haven't been more than twenty minutes in mending his throat. +Not bad surgery, Miss Henley." +</P> + +<P> +"Is his life safe, Mr. Vimpany?" +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks to his luck—yes." +</P> + +<P> +"His luck?" +</P> + +<P> +"To be sure! In the first place, he owes his life to your finding him +when you did; a little later, and it would have been all over with Lord +Harry. Second piece of luck: catching the doctor at home, just when he +was most wanted. Third piece of luck: our friend didn't know how to cut +his own throat properly. You needn't look black at me, Miss; I'm not +joking. A suicide with a razor in his hand has generally one chance in +his favour—he is ignorant of anatomy. That is my lord's case. He has +only cut through the upper fleshy part of his throat, and has missed +the larger blood vessels. Take my word for it, he will do well enough +now; thanks to you, thanks to me, and thanks to his own ignorance. What +do you say to that way of putting it? Ha! my brains are in good working +order to-day; I haven't been drinking any of Mr. Mountjoy's claret—do +you take the joke, Miss Henley?" +</P> + +<P> +Chuckling over the recollection of his own drunken audacity, he +happened to notice Fanny Mere. +</P> + +<P> +"Hullo! is this another injured person in want of me? You're as white +as a sheet, Miss. If you're going to faint, do me a favour—wait till I +can get the brandy-bottle. Oh! it's natural to you, is it? I see. A +thick skin and a slow circulation; you will live to be an old woman. A +friend of yours, Miss Henley?" +</P> + +<P> +Fanny answered composedly for herself: "I am Miss Henley's maid, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"What's become of the other one?" Mr. Vimpany asked. "Aye? aye? Staying +at a farm-house for the benefit of her health, is she? If I had been +allowed time enough, I would have made a cure of Rhoda Bennet. There +isn't a medical man in England who knows more than I do of the nervous +maladies of women—and what is my reward? Is my waiting-room crammed +with rich people coming to consult me? Do I live in a fashionable +Square? Have I even been made a Baronet? Damn it—I beg your pardon, +Miss Henley—but it is irritating, to a man of my capacity, to be +completely neglected. For the last three days not a creature has +darkened the doors of this house. Could I say a word to you?" +</P> + +<P> +He led Iris mysteriously into a corner of the room. "About our friend +downstairs?" he began. +</P> + +<P> +"When may we hope that he will be well again, Mr. Vimpany?" +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe in three weeks. In a month at most. I have nobody here but a +stupid servant girl. We ought to have a competent nurse. I can get a +thoroughly trained person from the hospital; but there's a little +difficulty. I am an outspoken man. When I am poor, I own I am poor. My +lord must be well fed; the nurse must be well fed. Would you mind +advancing a small loan, to provide beforehand for the payment of +expenses?" +</P> + +<P> +Iris handed her purse to him, sick of the sight of Mr. Vimpany. "Is +that all?" she asked, making for the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Much obliged. That's all." +</P> + +<P> +As they approached the room on the ground floor, Iris stopped: her eyes +rested on the doctor. Even to that coarse creature, the eloquent look +spoke for her. Fanny noticed it, and suddenly turned her head aside. +Over the maid's white face there passed darkly an expression of +unutterable contempt. Her mistress's weakness had revealed +itself—weakness for one of the betrayers of women; weakness for a man! +In the meantime, Mr. Vimpany (having got the money) was ready to humour +the enviable young lady with a well-filled purse. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you want to see my lord before you go?" he asked, amused at the +idea. "Mind! you mustn't disturb him! No talking, and no crying. Ready? +Now look at him." +</P> + +<P> +There he lay on a shabby little sofa, in an ugly little room; his eyes +closed; one helpless hand hanging down; a stillness on his ghastly +face, horribly suggestive of the stillness of death—there he lay, the +reckless victim of his love for the woman who had desperately renounced +him again and again, who had now saved him for the third time. Ah, how +her treacherous heart pleaded for him! Can you drive him away from you +after this? You, who love him, what does your cold-blooded prudence +say, when you look at him now? +</P> + +<P> +She felt herself drawn, roughly and suddenly, back into the passage. +The door was closed; the doctor was whispering to her. "Hold up, Miss! +I expected better things of you. Come! come!—no fainting. You'll find +him a different man to-morrow. Pay us a visit, and judge for yourself." +</P> + +<P> +After what she had suffered, Iris hungered for sympathy. "Isn't it +pitiable?" she said to her maid as they left the house. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know, Miss." +</P> + +<P> +"You don't know? Good heavens, are you made of stone? Have you no such +thing as a heart in you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not for the men," Fanny answered. "I keep my pity for the women." +</P> + +<P> +Iris knew what bitter remembrances made their confession in those +words. How she missed Rhoda Bennet at that moment! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap19"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MR. HENLEY AT HOME +</H3> + +<P> +FOR a month, Mountjoy remained in his cottage on the shores of the +Solway Firth, superintending the repairs. +</P> + +<P> +His correspondence with Iris was regularly continued; and, for the +first time in his experience of her, was a cause of disappointment to +him. +</P> + +<P> +Her replies revealed an incomprehensible change in her manner of +writing, which became more and more marked in each succeeding instance. +Notice it as he might in his own letters, no explanation followed on +the part of his correspondent. She, who had so frankly confided her +joys and sorrows to him in past days, now wrote with a reserve which +seemed only to permit the most vague and guarded allusion to herself. +The changes in the weather; the alternation of public news that was +dull, and public news that was interesting; the absence of her father +abroad, occasioned by doubt of the soundness of his investments in +foreign securities; vague questions relating to Hugh's new place of +abode, which could only have proceeded from a preoccupied mind—these +were the topics on which Iris dwelt, in writing to her faithful old +friend. It was hardly possible to doubt that something must have +happened, which she had reasons—serious reasons, as it seemed only too +natural to infer—for keeping concealed from Mountjoy. Try as he might +to disguise it from himself, he now knew how dear, how hopelessly dear, +she was to him by the anxiety that he suffered, and by the jealous +sense of injury which defied his self-command. His immediate +superintendence of the workmen at the cottage was no longer necessary. +Leaving there a representative whom he could trust, he resolved to +answer his last letter, received from Iris, in person. +</P> + +<P> +The next day he was in London. +</P> + +<P> +Calling at the house, he was informed that Miss Henley was not at home, +and that it was impossible to say with certainty when she might return. +While he was addressing his inquiries to the servant, Mr. Henley opened +the library door. "Is that you, Mountjoy?" he asked. "Come in: I want +to speak to you." +</P> + +<P> +Short and thick-set, with a thin-lipped mouth, a coarsely-florid +complexion, and furtive greenish eyes; hard in his manner, and harsh in +his voice; Mr. Henley was one of the few heartless men, who are +innocent of deception on the surface: he was externally a person who +inspired, at first sight, feelings of doubt and dislike. His manner +failed to show even a pretence of being glad to see Hugh. What he had +to say, he said walking up and down the room, and scratching his +bristly iron-gray hair from time to time. Those signs of restlessness +indicated, to those who knew him well, that he had a selfish use to +make of a fellow-creature, and failed to see immediately how to reach +the end in view. +</P> + +<P> +"I say, Mountjoy," he began, "have you any idea of what my daughter is +about?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't even understand what you mean," Hugh replied. "For the last +month I have been in Scotland." +</P> + +<P> +"You and she write to each other, don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Hasn't she told you—" +</P> + +<P> +"Excuse me for interrupting you, Mr. Henley; she has told me nothing." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Henley stared absently at the superbly-bound books on his +library-shelves (never degraded by the familiar act of reading), and +scratched his head more restlessly than ever. +</P> + +<P> +"Look here, young man. When you were staying with me in the country, I +rather hoped it might end in a marriage engagement. You and Iris +disappointed me—not for the first time. But women do change their +minds. Suppose she had changed her mind, after having twice refused +you? Suppose she had given you an opportunity—" +</P> + +<P> +Hugh interrupted him again. "It's needless to suppose anything of the +sort, sir; she would not have given me an opportunity." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't fence with me, Mountjoy! I'll put it in a milder way, if you +prefer being humbugged. Do you feel any interest in that perverse girl +of mine?" +</P> + +<P> +Hugh answered readily and warmly: "The truest interest!" +</P> + +<P> +Even Mr. Henley was human; his ugly face looked uglier still. It +assumed the self-satisfied expression of a man who had carried his +point. +</P> + +<P> +"Now I can go on, my friend, with what I had to say to you. I have been +abroad on business, and only came back the other day. The moment I saw +Iris I noticed something wrong about her. If I had been a stranger, I +should have said: That young woman is not easy in her mind. Perfectly +useless to speak to her about it. Quite happy and quite well—there was +her own account of herself. I tried her maid next, a white-livered +sulky creature, one of the steadiest liars I have ever met with. 'I +know of nothing amiss with my mistress, sir.' There was the maid's way +of keeping the secret, whatever it may be! I don't know whether you may +have noticed it, in the course of your acquaintance with me—I hate to +be beaten." +</P> + +<P> +"No, Mr. Henley, I have not noticed it." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you are informed of it now. Have you seen my housekeeper?" +</P> + +<P> +"Once or twice, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Come! you're improving; we shall make something of you in course of +time. Well, the housekeeper was the next person I spoke to about my +daughter. Had she seen anything strange in Miss Iris, while I was away +from home? There's a dash of malice in my housekeeper's composition; I +don't object to a dash of malice. When the old woman is pleased, she +shows her yellow fangs. She had something to tell me: 'The servants +have been talking, sir, about Miss Iris.' 'Out with it, ma'am! what do +they say?' 'They notice, sir, that their young lady has taken to going +out in the forenoon, regularly every day: always by herself, and always +in the same direction. I don't encourage the servants, Mr. Henley: +there was something insolent in the tone of suspicion that they +adopted. I told them that Miss Iris was merely taking her walk. They +reminded me that it must be a cruelly long walk; Miss Iris being away +regularly for four or five hours together, before she came back to the +house. After that' (says the housekeeper) 'I thought it best to drop +the subject.' What do you think of it yourself, Mountjoy? Do you call +my daughter's conduct suspicious?" +</P> + +<P> +"I see nothing suspicious, Mr. Henley. When Iris goes out, she visits a +friend." +</P> + +<P> +"And always goes in the same direction, and always visits the same +friend," Mr. Henley added. "I felt a curiosity to know who that friend +might be; and I made the discovery yesterday. When you were staying in +my house in the country, do you remember the man who waited on you?" +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy began to feel alarmed for Iris; he answered as briefly as +possible. +</P> + +<P> +"Your valet," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"That's it! Well, I took my valet into my confidence—not for the first +time, I can tell you: an invaluable fellow. When Iris went out +yesterday, he tracked her to a wretched little suburban place near +Hampstead Heath, called Redburn Road. She rang the bell at Number Five, +and was at once let in—evidently well known there. My clever man made +inquiries in the neighbourhood. The house belongs to a doctor, who has +lately taken it. Name of Vimpany." +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy was not only startled, but showed it plainly. Mr. Henley, +still pacing backwards and forwards, happened by good fortune to have +his back turned towards his visitor, at that moment. +</P> + +<P> +"Now I ask you, as a man of the world," Mr. Henley resumed, "what does +this mean? If you're too cautious to speak out—and I must say it looks +like it—shall I set you the example?" +</P> + +<P> +"Just as you please, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well, then; I'll tell you what I suspect. When Iris is at home, +and when there's something amiss in my family, I believe that scoundrel +Lord Harry to be at the bottom of it. There's my experience, and +there's my explanation. I was on the point of ordering my carriage, to +go to the doctor myself, and insist on knowing what the attraction is +that takes my daughter to his house, when I heard your voice in the +hall. You tell me you are interested in Iris. Very well; you are just +the man to help me." +</P> + +<P> +"May I ask how, Mr. Henley?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course you may. You can find your way to her confidence, if you +choose to try; she will trust you, when she won't trust her father. I +don't care two straws about her other secrets; but I do want to know +whether she is, or is not, plotting to marry the Irish blackguard. +Satisfy me about that, and you needn't tell me anything more. May I +count on you to find out how the land lies?" +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy listened, hardly able to credit the evidence of his own +senses; he was actually expected to insinuate himself into the +confidence of Iris, and then to betray her to her father! He rose, and +took his hat—and, without even the formality of a bow, opened the +door. +</P> + +<P> +"Does that mean No?" Mr. Henley called after him. +</P> + +<P> +"Most assuredly," Mountjoy answered—and closed the door behind him. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap20"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +FIRST SUSPICIONS OF IRIS +</H3> + +<P> +FROM the last memorable day, on which Iris had declared to him that he +might always count on her as his friend, but never as his wife, Hugh +had resolved to subject his feelings to a rigorous control. As to +conquering his hopeless love, he knew but too well that it would +conquer him, on any future occasion when he and Iris happened to meet. +</P> + +<P> +He had been true to his resolution, at what cost of suffering he, and +he alone knew. Sincerely, unaffectedly, he had tried to remain her +friend. But the nature of the truest and the firmest man has its weak +place, where the subtle influence of a woman is concerned. Deeply +latent, beyond the reach of his own power of sounding, there was +jealousy of the Irish lord lurking in Mountjoy, and secretly leading +his mind when he hesitated in those emergencies of his life which were +connected with Iris. Ignorant of the influence which was really +directing him, he viewed with contempt Mr. Henley's suspicions of a +secret understanding between his daughter and the man who was, by her +own acknowledgment, unworthy of the love with which it had been her +misfortune to regard him. At the same time, Hugh's mind was reluctantly +in search of an explanation, which might account (without degrading +Iris) for her having been traced to the doctor's house. In his +recollection of events at the old country town, he found a motive for +her renewal of intercourse with such a man as Mr. Vimpany, in the +compassionate feeling with which she regarded the doctor's unhappy +wife. There might well be some humiliating circumstance, recently added +to the other trials of Mrs. Vimpany's married life, which had appealed +to all that was generous and forgiving in the nature of Iris. Knowing +nothing of the resolution to live apart which had latterly separated +the doctor and his wife, Mountjoy decided on putting his idea to the +test by applying for information to Mrs. Vimpany at her husband's +house. +</P> + +<P> +In the nature of a sensitive man the bare idea of delay, under these +circumstances, was unendurable. Hugh called the first cab that passed +him, and drove to Hampstead. +</P> + +<P> +Careful—morbidly careful, perhaps—not to attract attention needlessly +to himself, he stopped the cab at the entrance to Redburn Road, and +approached Number Five on foot. A servant-girl answered the door. +Mountjoy asked if Mrs. Vimpany was at home. +</P> + +<P> +The girl made no immediate reply. She seemed to be puzzled by +Mountjoy's simple question. Her familiar manner, with its vulgar +assumption of equality in the presence of a stranger, revealed the +London-bred maid-servant of modern times. "Did you say <I>Mrs.</I> Vimpany?" +she inquired sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"There's no such person here." +</P> + +<P> +It was Mountjoy's turn to be puzzled. "Is this Mr. Vimpany's house?" he +said. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, to be sure it is." +</P> + +<P> +"And yet Mrs. Vimpany doesn't live here?" +</P> + +<P> +"No Mrs. Vimpany has darkened these doors," the girl declared +positively. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you sure you are not making a mistake?" +</P> + +<P> +"Quite sure. I have been in the doctor's service since he first took +the house." +</P> + +<P> +Determined to solve the mystery, if it could be done, Mountjoy asked if +he could see the doctor. No: Mr. Vimpany had gone out. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a young person comes to us," the servant continued. "I wonder +whether you mean her, when you ask for Mrs. Vimpany? The name <I>she</I> +gives is Henley." +</P> + +<P> +"Is Miss Henley here, now?" +</P> + +<P> +"You can't see her—she's engaged." +</P> + +<P> +She was not engaged with Mrs. Vimpany, for no such person was known in +the house. She was not engaged with the doctor, for the doctor had gone +out. Mountjoy looked at the hat-stand in the passage, and discovered a +man's hat and a man's greatcoat. To whom did they belong? Certainly not +to Mr. Vimpany, who had gone out. Repellent as it was, Mr. Henley's +idea that the explanation of his daughter's conduct was to be found in +the renewed influence over her of the Irish lord, now presented itself +to Hugh's mind under a new point of view. He tried in vain to resist +the impression that had been produced on him. A sense of injury, which +he was unable to justify to himself, took possession of him. Come what +might of it, he determined to set at rest the doubts of which he was +ashamed, by communicating with Iris. His card-case proved to be empty +when he opened it; but there were letters in his pocket, addressed to +him at his hotel in London. Removing the envelope from one of these, he +handed it to the servant: "Take that to Miss Henley, and ask when I can +see her." +</P> + +<P> +The girl left him in the passage, and went upstairs to the +drawing-room. +</P> + +<P> +In the flimsily-built little house, he could hear the heavy step of a +man, crossing the room above, and then the resonant tones of a man's +voice raised as if in anger. Had she given him already the right to be +angry with her? He thought of the time, when the betrayal of Lord +Harry's vindictive purpose in leaving England had frightened her—when +he had set aside his own sense of what was due to him, for her +sake—and had helped her to communicate, by letter, with the man whose +fatal ascendency over Iris had saddened his life. Was what he heard, +now, the return that he had deserved? +</P> + +<P> +After a short absence, the servant came back with a message. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Henley begs you will excuse her. She will write to you." +</P> + +<P> +Would this promised letter be like the other letters which he had +received from her in Scotland? Mountjoy's gentler nature reminded him +that he owed it to his remembrance of happier days, and truer +friendship, to wait and see. +</P> + +<P> +He was just getting into the cab, on his return to London, when a +closed carriage, with one person in it, passed him on its way to +Redburn Road. In that person he recognised Mr. Henley. As the +cab-driver mounted to his seat, Hugh saw the carriage stop at Number +Five. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap21"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE PARTING SCENE +</H3> + +<P> +THE evening had advanced, and the candles had just been lit in +Mountjoy's sitting-room at the hotel. +</P> + +<P> +His anxiety to hear from Iris had been doubled and trebled, since he +had made the discovery of her father's visit to the doctor's house, at +a time when it was impossible to doubt that Lord Harry was with her. +Hugh's jealous sense of wrong was now mastered by the nobler emotions +which filled him with pity and alarm, when he thought of Iris placed +between the contending claims of two such men as the heartless Mr. +Henley and the reckless Irish lord. He had remained at the hotel, +through the long afternoon, on the chance that she might write to him +speedily by the hand of a messenger—and no letter had arrived. He was +still in expectation of news which might reach him by the evening post, +when the waiter knocked at the door. +</P> + +<P> +"A letter?" Mountjoy asked. +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir," the man answered; "a lady." +</P> + +<P> +Before she could raise her veil, Hugh had recognised Iris. Her manner +was subdued; her face was haggard; her hand lay cold and passive in his +hand, when he advanced to bid her welcome. He placed a chair for her by +the fire. She thanked him and declined to take it. With the air of a +woman conscious of committing an intrusion, she seated herself apart in +a corner of the room. +</P> + +<P> +"I have tried to write to you, and I have not been able to do it." She +said that with a dogged resignation of tone and manner, so unlike +herself that Mountjoy looked at her in dismay. "My friend," she went +on, "your pity is all I may hope for; I am no longer worthy of the +interest you once felt in me." +</P> + +<P> +Hugh saw that it would be useless to remonstrate. He asked if it had +been his misfortune to offend her. +</P> + +<P> +"No," she said, "you have not offended me." +</P> + +<P> +"Then what in Heaven's name does this change in you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"It means," she said, as coldly as ever, "that I have lost my +self-respect; it means that my father has renounced me, and that you +will do well to follow his example. Have I not led you to believe that +I could never be the wife of Lord Harry? Well, I have deceived you—-I +am going to marry him." +</P> + +<P> +"I can't believe it, Iris! I won't believe it!" +</P> + +<P> +She handed him the letter, in which the Irishman had declared his +resolution to destroy himself. Hugh read it with contempt. "Did my +lord's heart fail him?" he asked scornfully. +</P> + +<P> +"He would have died by his own hand, Mr. Mountjoy——" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Iris—<I>'Mr.!'"</I> +</P> + +<P> +"I will say 'Hugh,' if you prefer it—but the days of our familiar +friendship are none the less at an end. I found Lord Harry bleeding to +death from a wound in his throat. It was in a lonely place on Hampstead +Heath; I was the one person who happened to pass by it. For the third +time, you see, it has been my destiny to save him. How can I forget +that? My mind will dwell on it. I try to find happiness—oh, only +happiness enough for me—in cheering my poor Irishman, on his way back +to the life that I have preserved. There is my motive, if I have a +motive. Day after day I have helped to nurse him. Day after day I have +heard him say things to me—what is the use of repeating them? After +years of resistance I have given way; let that be enough. My one act of +discretion has been to prevent a quarrel between my father and Harry. I +beg your pardon, I ought to have said Lord Harry. When my father came +to the house, I insisted on speaking with him alone. I told him what I +have just told you. He said: 'Think again before you make your choice +between that man and me. If you decide to marry him, you will live and +die without one farthing of my money to help you.' He put his watch on +the table between us, and gave me five minutes to make up my mind. It +was a long five minutes, but it ended at last. He asked me which he was +to do—leave his will as it was, or go to his lawyer and make another. +I said, 'You will do as you please, sir.' No; it was not a hasty +reply—you can't make that excuse for me. I knew what I was saying; and +I saw the future I was preparing for myself, as plainly as you see +it—" +</P> + +<P> +Hugh could endure no longer the reckless expression of her despair. +</P> + +<P> +"No!" he cried, "you don't see your future as I see it. Will you hear +what I have to say, before it is too late?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is too late already. But I will listen to you if you wish it." +</P> + +<P> +"And, while you listen," Mountjoy added, "you will acquit me of being +influenced by a selfish motive. I have loved you dearly. Perhaps, in +secret, I love you still. But, this I know: if you were to remain a +single woman for the rest of your life, there would be no hope for Me. +Do you believe that I am speaking the truth?" +</P> + +<P> +"You always speak the truth." +</P> + +<P> +"I speak in your interest, at least. You think you see your future life +plainly—you are blind to your future life. You talk as if you were +resigned to suffer. Are you resigned to lose your sense of right and +wrong? Are you resigned to lead the life of an outlaw, and—worse +still—not to feel the disgrace of it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Go on, Hugh." +</P> + +<P> +"You won't answer me?" +</P> + +<P> +"I won't shock you." +</P> + +<P> +"You don't discourage me, my dear; I am still obstinate in the hope of +restoring you to your calmer and truer self. Let me do every justice to +Lord Harry. I believe, sincerely believe, that his miserable life has +not utterly destroyed in him the virtues which distinguish an +honourable man. But he has one terrible defect. In his nature, there is +the fatal pliability which finds companionable qualities in bad +friends. In this aspect of his character, he is a dangerous man—and he +may be (forgive me!) a bad husband. It is a thankless task to warn you +to any good purpose. A wife—and a loving wife more than another—feels +the deteriorating influence of a husband who is not worthy of her. His +ways of thinking are apt to become, little by little, her ways of +thinking. She makes allowances for him, which he does not deserve; her +sense of right and wrong becomes confused; and before she is aware of +it herself, she has sunk to his level. Are you angry with me?" +</P> + +<P> +"How can I be angry with you? Perhaps you are right." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you really mean that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Then, for God's sake, reconsider your decision! Let me go to your +father." +</P> + +<P> +"Mere waste of time," Iris answered. "Nothing that you can say will +have the least effect on him." +</P> + +<P> +"At any rate," Mountjoy persisted, "I mean to try." +</P> + +<P> +Had he touched her? She smiled—how bitterly Hugh failed to perceive. +</P> + +<P> +"Shall I tell you what happened to me when I went home to-day?" she +said. "I found my maid waiting in the hall—with everything that +belongs to me, packed up for my departure. The girl explained that she +had been forced to obey my father's positive orders. I knew what that +meant—I had to leave the house, and find a place to live in." +</P> + +<P> +"Not by yourself, Iris?" +</P> + +<P> +"No—with my maid. She is a strange creature; if she feels sympathy, +she never expresses it. 'I am your grateful servant, Miss. Where you +go, I go.' That was all she said; I was not disappointed—I am getting +used to Fanny Mere already. Mine is a lonely lot—isn't it? I have +acquaintances among the few ladies who sometimes visit at my father's +house, but no friends. My mother's family, as I have always been told, +cast her off when she married a man in trade, with a doubtful +reputation. I don't even know where my relations live. Isn't Lord Harry +good enough for me, as I am now? When I look at my prospects, is it +wonderful if I talk like a desperate woman? There is but one +encouraging circumstance that I can see. This misplaced love of mine +that everybody condemns has, oddly enough, a virtue that everybody must +admire. It offers a refuge to a woman who is alone in the world." +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy denied indignantly that she was alone in the world. +</P> + +<P> +"Is there any protection that a man can offer to a woman," he asked, +"which I am not ready and eager to offer to You? Oh, Iris, what have I +done to deserve that you should speak of yourself as friendless in my +hearing!" +</P> + +<P> +He had touched her at last. Their tender charm showed itself once more +in her eyes and in her smile. She rose and approached him. +</P> + +<P> +"What exquisite kindness it must be," she said, "that blinds a clever +man like you to obstacles which anyone else can see! Remember, dear +Hugh, what the world would say to that protection which your true heart +offers to me. Are you my near relation? are you my guardian? are you +even an old man? Ah me! you are only an angel of goodness whom I must +submit to lose. I shall still count on your kindness when we see each +other no more. You will pity me, when you hear that I have fallen lower +and lower; you will be sorry for me, when I end in disgracing myself." +</P> + +<P> +"Even then, Iris, we shall not be separated. The loving friend who is +near you now, will be your loving friend still." +</P> + +<P> +For the first time in her life, she threw her arms round him. In the +agony of that farewell, she held him to her bosom. "Goodbye, dear," she +said faintly—and kissed him. +</P> + +<P> +The next moment, a deadly pallor overspread her face. She staggered as +she drew back, and dropped into the chair that she had just left. In +the fear that she might faint, Mountjoy hurried out in search of a +restorative. His bed-chamber was close by, at the end of the corridor; +and there were smelling-salts in his dressing-case. As he raised the +lid, he heard the door behind him, the one door in the room, locked +from the outer side. +</P> + +<P> +He rushed to the door, and called to her. From the farther end of the +corridor, her voice reached him for the last time, repeating the last +melancholy word: "Good-bye." No renewal of the miserable parting scene: +no more of the heartache—Iris had ended it! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap22"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE FATAL WORDS +</H3> + +<P> +WHEN Mountjoy had rung for the servant, and the bedroom door had been +unlocked, it was too late to follow the fugitive. Her cab was waiting +for her outside; and the attention of the porter had been distracted, +at the same time, by a new arrival of travellers at the hotel. +</P> + +<P> +It is more or less in the nature of all men who are worthy of the name, +to take refuge from distress in action. Hugh decided on writing to +Iris, and on making his appeal to her father, that evening. He +abstained from alluding, in his letter, to the manner in which she had +left him; it was her right, it was even her duty to spare herself. All +that he asked was to be informed of her present place of residence, so +that he might communicate the result—in writing only if she preferred +it—of his contemplated interview with her father. He addressed his +letter to the care of Mr. Vimpany, to be forwarded, and posted it +himself. +</P> + +<P> +This done, he went on at once to Mr. Henley's house. +</P> + +<P> +The servant who opened the door had evidently received his orders. Mr. +Henley was "not at home." Mountjoy was in no humour to be trifled with. +He pushed the man out of his way, and made straight for the +dining-room. There, as his previous experience of the habits of the +household had led him to anticipate, was the man whom he was determined +to see. The table was laid for Mr. Henley's late dinner. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh's well-meant attempt to plead the daughter's cause with the father +ended as Iris had said it would end. +</P> + +<P> +After hotly resenting the intrusion on him that had been committed, Mr. +Henley declared that a codicil to his will, depriving his daughter +absolutely of all interest in his property, had been legally executed +that day. For a time, Mountjoy's self-control had resisted the most +merciless provocation. All that it was possible to effect, by patient +entreaty and respectful remonstrance, he had tried again and again, and +invariably in vain. At last, Mr. Henley's unbridled insolence +triumphed. Hugh lost his temper—and, in leaving the heartless old man, +used language which he afterwards remembered with regret. +</P> + +<P> +To feel that he had attempted to assert the interests of Iris, and that +he had failed, was, in Hugh's heated state of mind, an irresistible +stimulant to further exertion. It was perhaps not too late yet to make +another attempt to delay (if not to prevent) the marriage. +</P> + +<P> +In sheer desperation, Mountjoy resolved to inform Lord Harry that his +union with Miss Henley would be followed by the utter ruin of her +expectations from her father. Whether the wild lord only considered his +own interests, or whether he was loyally devoted to the interests of +the woman whom he loved, in either case the penalty to be paid for the +marriage was formidable enough to make him hesitate. +</P> + +<P> +The lights in the lower window, and in the passage, told Hugh that he +had arrived in good time at Redburn Road. +</P> + +<P> +He found Mr. Vimpany and the young Irishman sitting together, in the +friendliest manner, under the composing influence of tobacco. Primed, +as he would have said himself, with only a third glass of grog, the +hospitable side of the doctor's character was displayed to view. He at +once accepted Mountjoy's visit as offering a renewal of friendly +relations between them. +</P> + +<P> +"Forgive and forget," he said, "there's the way to settle that little +misunderstanding, after our dinner at the inn. You know Mr. Mountjoy, +my lord? That's right. Draw in your chair, Mountjoy. My professional +prospects threaten me with ruin—but while I have a roof over my head, +there's always a welcome for a friend. My dear fellow, I have every +reason to believe that the doctor who sold me this practice was a +swindler. The money is gone, and the patients don't come. Well! I am +not quite bankrupt yet; I can offer you a glass of grog. Mix for +yourself—we'll make a night of it." +</P> + +<P> +Hugh explained (with the necessary excuses) that his object was to say +a few words to Lord Harry in private. The change visible in the +doctor's manner, when he had been made acquainted with this +circumstance, was not amiably expressed; he had the air of a man who +suspected that an unfair advantage had been taken of him. Lord Harry, +on his side, appeared to feel some hesitation in granting a private +interview to Mr. Mountjoy. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it about Miss Henley?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh admitted that it was. Lord Harry thereupon suggested that they +might be acting wisely if they avoided the subject. Mountjoy answered +that there were, on the contrary, reasons for approaching the subject +sufficiently important to have induced him to leave London for +Hampstead at a late hour of the night. +</P> + +<P> +Hearing this, Lord Harry rose to lead the way to another room. Excluded +from his visitor's confidence, Mr. Vimpany could at least remind +Mountjoy that he exercised authority as master of the house. "Oh, take +him upstairs, my lord," said the doctor; "you are at home under my +humble roof!" +</P> + +<P> +The two young men faced each other in the barely-furnished +drawing-room; both sufficiently doubtful of the friendly result of the +conference to abstain from seating themselves. Hugh came to the point, +without wasting time in preparatory words. Admitting that he had heard +of Miss Henley's engagement, he asked if Lord Harry was aware of the +disastrous consequences to the young lady which would follow her +marriage. The reply to this was frankly expressed. The Irish lord knew +nothing of the consequences to which Mr. Mountjoy had alluded. Hugh at +once enlightened him, and evidently took him completely by surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"May I ask, sir," he said, "if you are speaking from your own personal +knowledge?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have just come, my lord, from Mr. Henley's house; and what I have +told you, I heard from his own lips." +</P> + +<P> +There was a pause. Hugh was already inclined to think that he had +raised an obstacle to the immediate celebration of the marriage. A +speedy disappointment was in store for him. Lord Harry was too fond of +Iris to be influenced, in his relations with her, by mercenary +considerations. +</P> + +<P> +"You put it strongly," he said. "But let me tell you, Miss Henley is +far from being so dependent on her father—he ought to be ashamed of +himself, but that's neither here nor there—I say, she is far from +being so dependent on her father as you seem to think. I am not, I beg +to inform you, without resources which I shall offer to her with all my +heart and soul. Perhaps you wish me to descend to particulars? Oh, it's +easily done; I have sold my cottage in Ireland." +</P> + +<P> +"For a large sum—in these times?" Hugh inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind the sum, Mr. Mountjoy—let the fact be enough for you. And, +while we are on the question of money (a disgusting question, with +which I refuse to associate the most charming woman in existence), +don't forget that Miss Henley has an income of her own; derived, as I +understand, from her mother's fortune, You will do me the justice, sir, +to believe that I shall not touch a farthing of it." +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly! But her mother's fortune," Mountjoy continued, obstinately +presenting the subject on its darkest side, "consists of shares in a +Company. Shares rise and fall—and Companies some times fail." +</P> + +<P> +"And a friend's anxiety about Miss Henley's affairs sometimes takes a +mighty disagreeable form," the Irishman added, his temper beginning to +show itself without disguise. "Let's suppose the worst that can happen, +and get all the sooner to the end of a conversation which is far from +being agreeable to me. We'll say, if you like, that Miss Henley's +shares are waste paper, and her pockets (God bless her!) as empty as +pockets can be, does she run any other risk that occurs to your +ingenuity in becoming my wife?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, she does!" Hugh was provoked into saying. "In the case you have +just supposed, she runs the risk of being left a destitute widow—if +you die." +</P> + +<P> +He was prepared for an angry reply—for another quarrel added, on that +disastrous night, to the quarrel with Mr. Henley. To his astonishment, +Lord Harry's brightly-expressive eyes rested on him with a look of +mingled distress and alarm. "God forgive me!" he said to himself, "I +never thought of that! What am I to do? what am I to do?" +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy observed that deep discouragement, and failed to understand +it. +</P> + +<P> +Here was a desperate adventurer, whose wanderings had over and over +again placed his life in jeopardy, now apparently overcome by merely +having his thoughts directed to the subject of death! To place on the +circumstances such a construction as this was impossible, after a +moment's reflection. The other alternative was to assume that there +must be some anxiety burdening Lord Harry's mind, which he had motives +for keeping concealed—and here indeed the true explanation had been +found. The Irish lord had reasons, known only to himself, for recoiling +from the contemplation of his own future. After the murder of Arthur +Mountjoy, he had severed his connection with the assassinating +brotherhood of the Invincibles; and he had then been warned that he +took this step at the peril of his life, if he remained in Great +Britain after he had made himself an object of distrust to his +colleagues. The discovery, by the secret tribunal, of his return from +South Africa would be followed inevitably by the sentence of death. +Such was the terrible position which Mountjoy's reply had ignorantly +forced him to confront. His fate depended on the doubtful security of +his refuge in the doctor's house. +</P> + +<P> +While Hugh was still looking at him, in grave doubt, a new idea seemed +to spring to life in Lord Harry's mind. He threw off the oppression +that had weighed on his spirits in an instant. His manner towards +Mountjoy changed, with the suddenness of a flash of light, from the +extreme of coldness to the extreme of cordiality. +</P> + +<P> +"I have got it at last!" he exclaimed. "Let's shake hands. My dear sir, +you're the best friend I have ever had!" +</P> + +<P> +The cool Englishman asked: "In what way?" +</P> + +<P> +"In this way, to be sure! You have reminded me that I can provide for +Miss Henley—and the sooner the better. There's our friend the doctor +down-stairs, ready to be my reference. Don't you see it?" +</P> + +<P> +Obstacles that might prevent the marriage Mountjoy was ready enough to +see. Facilities that might hasten the marriage found his mind hard of +access to new impressions. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you speaking seriously?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +The Irishman's irritable temper began to show itself again. +</P> + +<P> +"Why do you doubt it?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I fail to understand you," Mountjoy replied. +</P> + +<P> +Never—as events were yet to prove—had words of such serious import +fallen from Lord Harry's lips as the words that he spoke next. +</P> + +<P> +"Clear your mind of jealousy," he said, "and you will understand me +well enough. I agree with you that I am bound to provide for my +widow—and I mean to do it by insuring my life." +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE END OF THE SECOND PERIOD +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap23"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THIRD PERIOD +</H2> + +<BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +NEWS OF IRIS +</H3> + +<P> +AFTER his interview with the Irish lord, Mountjoy waited for two days, +in the expectation of hearing from Iris. No reply arrived. Had Mr. +Vimpany failed to forward the letter that had been entrusted to him? +</P> + +<P> +On the third day, Hugh wrote to make inquiries. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor returned the letter that had been confided to his care, and +complained in his reply of the ungrateful manner in which he had been +treated. Miss Henley had not trusted him with her new address in +London; and Lord Harry had suddenly left Redburn Road; bidding his host +goodbye in a few lines of commonplace apology, and nothing more. Mr. +Vimpany did not deny that he had been paid for his medical services; +but, he would ask, was nothing due to friendship? Was one man justified +in enjoying another man's hospitality, and then treating him like a +stranger? "I have done with them both—and I recommend you, my dear +sir, to follow my example." In those terms the angry (and sober) doctor +expressed his sentiments, and offered his advice. +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy laid down the letter in despair. +</P> + +<P> +His last poor chance of preventing the marriage depended on his being +still able to communicate with Iris—and she was as completely lost to +him as if she had taken flight to the other end of the world. It might +have been possible to discover her by following the movements of Lord +Harry, but he too had disappeared without leaving a trace behind him. +The precious hours and days were passing—and Hugh was absolutely +helpless. +</P> + +<P> +Tortured by anxiety and suspense, he still lingered at the hotel in +London. More than once, he decided on giving up the struggle, and +returning to his pretty cottage in Scotland. More than once, he +deferred taking the journey. At one time, he dreaded to hear that Iris +was married, if she wrote to him. At another time, he felt mortified +and disappointed by the neglect which her silence implied. Was she near +him, or far from him? In England, or out of England? Who could say! +</P> + +<P> +After more weary days of waiting and suffering a letter arrived, +addressed to Mountjoy in a strange handwriting, and bearing the +post-mark of Paris. The signature revealed that his correspondent was +Lord Harry. +</P> + +<P> +His first impulse was to throw the letter into the fire, unread. There +could be little doubt, after the time that had passed, of the +information that it would contain. Could he endure to be told of the +marriage of Iris, by the man who was her husband? Never! There was +something humiliating in the very idea of it. He arrived at that +conclusion—and what did he do in spite of it? He read the letter. +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry wrote with scrupulous politeness of expression. He regretted +that circumstances had prevented him from calling on Mr. Mountjoy, +before he left England. After the conversation that had taken place at +Mr. Vimpany's house, he felt it his duty to inform Mr. Mountjoy that he +had insured his life—and, he would add, for a sum of money amply, and +more than amply, sufficient to provide for his wife in the event of her +surviving him. Lady Harry desired her kind regards, and would write +immediately to her old and valued friend. In the meantime, he would +conclude by repeating the expression of his sense of obligation to Mr. +Mountjoy. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh looked back at the first page of the letter, in search of the +writer's address. It was simply, "Paris." The intention to prevent any +further correspondence, or any personal communication, could hardly +have been more plainly implied. In another moment, the letter was in +the fire. +</P> + +<P> +In two days more, Hugh heard from Iris. +</P> + +<P> +She, too, wrote regretfully of the sudden departure from England; +adding, however, that it was her own doing. A slip of the tongue, on +Lord Harry's part, in the course of conversation, had led her to fear +that he was still in danger from political conspirators with whom he +had imprudently connected himself. She had accordingly persuaded him to +tell her the whole truth, and had thereupon insisted on an immediate +departure for the Continent. She and her husband were now living in +Paris; Lord Harry having friends in that city whose influence might +prove to be of great importance to his pecuniary prospects. Some +sentences followed, expressing the writer's grateful remembrance of all +that she had owed to Hugh in past days, and her earnest desire that +they might still hear of each other, from time to time, by +correspondence. She could not venture to anticipate the pleasure of +receiving a visit from him, under present circumstances. But, she hoped +that he would not object to write to her, addressing his letters, for +the present, to post-restante. +</P> + +<P> +In a postscript a few words were added, alluding to Mr. Vimpany. Hugh +was requested not to answer any inquiries which that bad man might +venture to make, relating to her husband or to herself. In the bygone +days, she had been thankful to the doctor for the care which he had +taken, medically speaking, of Rhoda Bonnet. But, since that time, his +behaviour to his wife, and the opinions which he had expressed in +familiar conversation with Lord Harry, had convinced her that he was an +unprincipled person. All further communication with him (if her +influence could prevent it) must come to an end. +</P> + +<P> +Still as far as ever from feeling reconciled to the marriage, Mountjoy +read this letter with a feeling of resentment which disinclined him to +answer it. +</P> + +<P> +He believed (quite erroneously) that Iris had written to him under the +superintendence of her husband. There were certain phrases which had +been, as he chose to suspect, dictated by Lord Harry's distrust—jealous +distrust, perhaps—of his wife's friend. Mountjoy would wait to +reply, until, as he bitterly expressed it, Iris was able to write to +him without the assistance of her master. +</P> + +<P> +Again he thought of returning to Scotland—and, again, he hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +On this occasion, he discovered objections to the cottage which had not +occurred to him while Iris was a single woman. The situation was +solitary; his nearest neighbours were fishermen. Here and there, at +some little distance, there were only a few scattered houses inhabited +by retired tradesmen. Further away yet, there was the country-seat of +an absent person of distinction, whose health suffered in the climate +of Scotland. The lonely life in prospect, on the shores of the Solway, +now daunted Mountjoy for the first time. +</P> + +<P> +He decided on trying what society in London would do to divert his mind +from the burdens and anxieties that weighed on it. Acquaintances whom +he had neglected were pleasantly surprised by visits from their rich +and agreeable young friend. He attended dinner parties; he roused hope +in mothers and daughters by accepting invitations to balls; he +reappeared at his club. Was there any relief to his mind in this? was +there even amusement? No; he was acting a part, and he found it a hard +task to keep up appearances. After a brief and brilliant interval, +society knew him no more. +</P> + +<P> +Left by himself again, he enjoyed one happy evening in London. It was +the evening on which he relented, in spite of himself, and wrote to +Iris. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap24"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +LORD HARRY'S HONEYMOON +</H3> + +<P> +THE next day, Hugh received a visit from the last person in the little +world of his acquaintance whom he expected to see. The lost Mrs. +Vimpany presented herself at the hotel. +</P> + +<P> +She looked unnaturally older since Mountjoy had last seen her. Her +artificial complexion was gone. The discarded rouge that had once +overlaid her cheeks, through a long succession of years, had left the +texture of the skin coarse, and had turned the colour of it to a dull +yellowish tinge. Her hair, once so skilfully darkened, was now +permitted to tell the truth, and revealed the sober colouring of age, +in gray. The lower face had fallen away in substance; and even the +penetrating brightness of her large dark eyes was a little dimmed. All +that had been left in her of the attractions of past days, owed its +vital preservation to her stage training. Her suave grace of movement, +and the deep elocutionary melody of her voice, still identified Mrs. +Vimpany—disguised as she was in a dress of dull brown, shorn without +mercy of the milliner's hideous improvements to the figure. "Will you +shake hands with me, Mr. Mountjoy?" Those were the first words she said +to him, in a sad subdued manner, on entering the room. +</P> + +<P> +"Why not?" Hugh asked, giving her his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"You can have no very favourable remembrance of me," she answered. "But +I hope to produce a better impression—if you can spare me a little of +your time. You may, or may not, have heard of my separation from my +husband. Anyway, it is needless to trouble you on the subject; you know +Mr. Vimpany; you can guess what I have suffered, and why I have left +him. If he comes to you, I hope you will not tell him where Lady Harry +is."— +</P> + +<P> +Hugh interposed: "Pray don't speak of her by that name! Call her +'Iris,' as I do." +</P> + +<P> +A faint reflection of the old stage-smile trembled on Mrs. Vimpany's +worn and weary face. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, Mr. Mountjoy, I know whom she ought to have married! The worst +enemy of women is their ignorance of men—and they only learn to know +better, when it is too late. I try to be hopeful for Iris, in the time +to come, but my fears conquer me." +</P> + +<P> +She paused, sighed, and pressed her open hand on her bosom; +unconsciously betraying in that action some of the ineradicable +training of the theatre. +</P> + +<P> +"I am almost afraid to say that I love Iris," she resumed; "but this I +know; if I am not so bad as I once was, I owe it to that dearest and +sweetest of women! But for the days that I passed in her company, I +might never have tried to atone for my past life by works of mercy. +When other people take the way of amendment, I wonder whether they find +it as hard to follow, at first, as I did?" +</P> + +<P> +"There is no doubt of it, Mrs. Vimpany—if people are sincere. Beware +of the sinners who talk of sudden conversion and perfect happiness. May +I ask how you began your new life?" +</P> + +<P> +"I began unhappily, Mr. Mountjoy—I joined a nursing Sisterhood. Before +long, a dispute broke out among them. Think of women who call +themselves Christians, quarrelling about churches and church +services—priest's vestments and attitudes, and candles and incense! I +left them, and went to a hospital, and found the doctors better +Christians than the Sisters. I am not talking about my own poor self +(as you will soon see) without a reason. My experience in the hospital +led to other things. I nursed a lady through a tedious illness, and was +trusted to take her to some friends in the south of France. On my +return, I thought of staying for a few days in Paris—it was an +opportunity of seeing how the nurses did their work in the French +hospitals. And, oh, it was far more than that! In Paris, I found Iris +again." +</P> + +<P> +"By accident?" Hugh asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I am not sure," Mrs. Vimpany answered, "that there are such things as +meetings by accident. She and her husband were among the crowds of +people on the Boulevards, who sit taking their coffee in view of the +other crowds, passing along the street. I went by, without noticing +them. <I>She</I> saw me, and sent Lord Harry to bring me back. I have been +with them every day, at her invitation, from that time to this; and I +have seen their life." +</P> + +<P> +She stopped, noticing that Hugh grew restless. "I am in doubt," she +said, "whether you wish to hear more of their life in Paris." +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy at once controlled himself. +</P> + +<P> +"Go on," he said quietly. +</P> + +<P> +"Even if I tell you that Iris is perfectly happy?" +</P> + +<P> +"Go on," Hugh repeated. +</P> + +<P> +"May I confess," she resumed, "that her husband is irresistible—not +only to his wife, but even to an old woman like me? After having known +him for years at his worst, as well as at his best, I am still foolish +enough to feel the charm of his high spirits and his delightful +good-humour. Sober English people, if they saw him now, would almost +think him a fit subject to be placed under restraint. One of his wild +Irish ideas of expressing devotion to his wife is, that they shall +forget they are married, and live the life of lovers. When they dine at +a restaurant, he insists on having a private room. He takes her to +public balls, and engages her to dance with him for the whole evening. +When she stays at home and is a little fatigued, he sends me to the +piano, and whirls her round the room in a waltz. 'Nothing revives a +woman,' he says, 'like dancing with the man she loves.' When she is out +of breath, and I shut up the piano, do you know what he does? He +actually kisses Me—and says he is expressing his wife's feeling for me +when she is not able to do it herself! He sometimes dines out with men, +and comes back all on fire with the good wine, and more amiable than +ever. On these occasions his pockets are full of sweetmeats, stolen for +'his angel' from the dessert. 'Am I a little tipsy?' he asks. 'Oh, +don't be angry; it's all for love of you. I have been in the highest +society, my darling; proposing your health over and over and over +again, and drinking to you deeper than all the rest of the company. You +don't blame me? Ah, but I blame myself. I was wrong to leave you, and +dine with men. What do I want with the society of men, when I have your +society? Drinking your health is a lame excuse. I will refuse all +invitations for the future that don't include my wife.' And—mind!—he +really means it, at the time. Two or three days later, he forgets his +good resolutions, and dines with the men again, and comes home with +more charming excuses, and stolen sweetmeats, and good resolutions. I +am afraid I weary you, Mr. Mountjoy?" +</P> + +<P> +"You surprise me," Hugh replied. "Why do I hear all this of Lord +Harry?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany left her chair. The stage directions of other days had +accustomed her to rise, when the character she played had anything +serious to say. Her own character still felt the animating influence of +dramatic habit: she rose now, and laid her hand impressively on +Mountjoy's shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"I have not thoughtlessly tried your patience," she said. "Now that I +am away from the influence of Lord Harry, I can recall my former +experience of him: and I am afraid I can see the end that is coming. He +will drift into bad company; he will listen to bad advice; and he will +do things in the future which he might shrink from doing now. When that +time comes, I fear him! I fear him!" +</P> + +<P> +"When that time comes," Hugh repeated, "if I have any influence left +over his wife, he shall find her capable of protecting herself. Will +you give me her address in Paris? +</P> + +<P> +"Willingly—if you will promise not to go to her till she really needs +you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who is to decide when she needs me?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am to decide," Mrs. Vimpany answered; "Iris writes to me +confidentially. If anything happens which she may be unwilling to trust +to a letter, I believe I shall hear of it from her maid." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you sure the maid is to be relied on?" Mountjoy interposed. +</P> + +<P> +"She is a silent creature, so far as I know anything of her," Mrs. +Vimpany admitted; "and her manner doesn't invite confidence. But I have +spoken with Fanny Mere; I am satisfied that she is true to her mistress +and grateful to her mistress in her own strange way. If Iris is in any +danger, I shall not be left in ignorance of it. Does this incline you +to consult with me, before you decide on going to Paris? Don't stand on +ceremony; say honestly, Yes or No." +</P> + +<P> +Honestly, Hugh said Yes. +</P> + +<P> +He was at once trusted with the address of Iris. At the same time, Mrs. +Vimpany undertook that he should know what news she received from Paris +as soon as she knew it herself. On that understanding they parted, for +the time being. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap25"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE DOCTOR IN DIFFICULTIES +</H3> + +<P> +SLOWLY the weeks passed. Strictly Mrs. Vimpany kept her promise. +</P> + +<P> +When she heard from Iris the letter was always sent to Hugh, to be +returned after he had read it. Events in the lives of the newly-married +pair, many of which pointed to the end that Mrs. Vimpany saw and +dreaded, were lightly, sometimes jestingly, related by the young wife. +Her blind belief in her husband, sincerely asserted in the earlier part +of the correspondence, began to betray, in her later letters, signs of +self delusion. It was sad indeed to see that bright intelligence +rendered incapable of conceiving suspicions, which might have occurred +to the mind of a child. +</P> + +<P> +When the latest news from Paris followed, in due course, Mountjoy was +informed of it by a note from Mrs. Vimpany expressed in these terms: +</P> + +<P> +"My last letter from Iris is really no letter at all. It simply +encloses a circular, with her love, and asks me to send it on to you. +If it is in your power to make inquiries in the right quarter, I am +sure you will not hesitate to take the trouble. There can be little +doubt, as I think, that Lord Harry is engaged in a hazardous +speculation, more deeply than his wife is willing to acknowledge." +</P> + +<P> +The circular announced the contemplated publication of a weekly +newspaper, printed partly in English, and partly in French, having its +chief office in Paris, and being intended to dispute the advantages of +a European circulation with the well-known Continental journal called +"Galignani's Messenger." A first list of contributors included names of +some notoriety in the literature of England and the literature of +France. Speculators who wished to know, in the first place, on what +security they might reckon, were referred to the managing committee, +represented by persons of importance in the financial worlds of London +and Paris. +</P> + +<P> +Being in a position to make the inquiries which Mrs. Vimpany had +suggested, Hugh received information which verified the statements +contained in the circular, and vouched for the good faith of those +persons who were concerned in directing the speculation. So far, so +good. +</P> + +<P> +But, when the question of success was next discussed, the authorities +consulted shook their wise heads. It was impossible to say what losses +might not be suffered, and what sums of money might not be required, +before the circulation of the new journal would justify the hope of +success. This opinion Hugh communicated to Mrs. Vimpany; Iris was +informed of it by that day's post. +</P> + +<P> +A longer time than usual elapsed before any further news of Lord Harry +and his wife was received by Mountjoy. When he did at last hear again +from Mrs. Vimpany, she forwarded a letter from Iris dated from a new +address, in the suburb of Paris called Passy. +</P> + +<P> +From motives of economy (Iris wrote) her husband had decided on a +change of residence. They were just established in their new abode, +with the advantages of a saving in rent, a pretty little garden to +cultivate, and purer air to breathe than the air of Paris. There the +letter ended, without the slightest allusion to the forthcoming +newspaper, or to the opinion that had been pronounced on the prospects +of success. +</P> + +<P> +In forwarding this letter, Mrs. Vimpany wrote on the blank page as +follows: "I am sorry to add that some disquieting news of my husband +has reached me. For the present, I will say no more. It is at least +possible that the report may not be worthy of belief." +</P> + +<P> +A few days later the report was confirmed, under circumstances which +had certainly not been foreseen. Mr. Vimpany himself arrived at the +hotel, on a visit to Mountjoy. +</P> + +<P> +Always more or less superior to the amiable weakness of modesty, the +doctor seemed to have risen higher than ever in his own estimation, +since Hugh had last seen him. He strutted; he stared confidently at +persons and things; authority was in his voice when he spoke, and lofty +indulgence distinguished his manner when he listened. +</P> + +<P> +"How are you?" he cried with a grand gaiety, as he entered the room. +"Fine weather, isn't it, for the time of year? You don't look well. I +wonder whether you notice any change in me? +</P> + +<P> +"You seem to be in good spirits," Hugh replied, not very cordially. +</P> + +<P> +"Do I carry my head high?" Mr. Vimpany went on. "When calamity strikes +at a man, don't let him cringe and cry for pity—let him hit back +again! Those are my principles. Look at me. Now do look at me. Here I +am, a cultivated person, a member of an honourable profession, a man of +art and accomplishment—stripped of every blessed thing belonging to me +but the clothes I stand up in. Give me your hand, Mountjoy. It's the +hand, sir, of a bankrupt." +</P> + +<P> +"You don't seem to mind it much," Mountjoy remarked. +</P> + +<P> +"Why should I mind it?" asked the doctor. "There isn't a medical man in +England who has less reason to reproach himself than I have. Have I +wasted money in rash speculations? Not a farthing. Have I been fool +enough to bet at horse races? My worst enemy daren't say it of me. What +have I done then? I have toiled after virtue—that's what I have done. +Oh, there's nothing to laugh at! When a doctor tries to be the medical +friend of humanity; when he only asks leave to cure disease, to soothe +pain, to preserve life—isn't that virtue? And what is my reward? I sit +at home, waiting for my suffering fellow-creatures; and the only +fellow-creatures who come to me are too poor to pay. I have gone my +rounds, calling on the rich patients whom I bought when I bought the +practice. Not one of them wanted me. Men, women, and children, were all +inexcusably healthy—devil take them! Is it wonderful if a man becomes +bankrupt, in such a situation as mine? By Jupiter, I go farther than +that! I say, a man owes it to himself (as a protest against undeserved +neglect) to become a bankrupt. If you will allow me, I'll take a +chair." +</P> + +<P> +He sat down with an air of impudent independence and looked round the +room. A little cabinet, containing liqueurs, stood open on the +sideboard. Mr. Vimpany got up again. "May I take a friendly liberty?" +he said—and helped himself, without waiting for permission. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh bore with this, mindful of the mistake that he had committed in +consenting to receive the doctor. At the same time, he was sufficiently +irritated to take a friendly liberty on his side. He crossed the room +to the sideboard, and locked up the liqueurs. Mr. Vimpany's brazen face +flushed deeply (not with shame); he opened his lips to say something +worthy of himself, controlled the impulse, and burst into a boisterous +laugh. He had evidently some favour still to ask. +</P> + +<P> +"Devilish good!" he broke out cheerfully. "Do you remember the +landlady's claret? Ha! you don't want to tempt me this time. Well! +well! to return to my bankruptcy." +</P> + +<P> +Hugh had heard enough of his visitor's bankruptcy. "I am not one of +your creditors," he said. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany made a smart reply: "Don't you be too sure of that. Wait a +little." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean," Mountjoy asked, "that you have come here to borrow money +of me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Time—-give me time," the doctor pleaded: "this is not a matter to be +dispatched in a hurry; this is a matter of business. You will hardly +believe it," he resumed, "but I have actually been in my present +position, once before." He looked towards the cabinet of liqueurs. "If +I had the key," he said, "I should like to try a drop more of your good +Curacoa. You don't see it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am waiting to hear what your business is," Hugh replied. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany's pliable temper submitted with perfect amiability. "Quite +right," he said; "let us return to business. I am a man who possesses +great fertility of resource. On the last occasion when my creditors +pounced on my property, do you think I was discouraged? Nothing of the +sort! My regular medical practice had broken down under me. Very +well—I tried my luck as a quack. In plain English, I invented a patent +medicine. The one thing wanting was money enough to advertise it. False +friends buttoned up their pockets. You see?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes; I see." +</P> + +<P> +"In that case," Mr. Vimpany continued, "you will not be surprised to +hear that I draw on my resources again. You have no doubt noticed that +we live in an age of amateurs. Amateurs write, paint, compose music, +perform on the stage. I, too, am one of the accomplished persons who +have taken possession of the field of Art. Did you observe the +photographic portraits on the walls of my dining-room? They are of my +doing, sir—whether you observed them or not I am one of the handy +medical men, who can use the photograph. Not that I mention it +generally; the public have got a narrow-minded notion that a doctor +ought to be nothing but a doctor. My name won't appear in a new work +that I am contemplating. Of course, you want to know what my new work +is. I'll tell you, in the strictest confidence. Imagine (if you can) a +series of superb photographs of the most eminent doctors in England, +with memoirs of their lives written by themselves; published once a +month, price half-a-crown. If there isn't money in that idea, there is +no money in anything. Exert yourself, my good friend. Tell me what you +think of it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't understand the subject," Mountjoy replied. "May I ask why you +take <I>me</I> into your confidence?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because I look upon you as my best friend." +</P> + +<P> +"You are very good. But surely, Mr. Vimpany, you have older friends in +your circle of acquaintance than I am." +</P> + +<P> +"Not one," the doctor answered promptly, "whom I trust as I trust you. +Let me give you a proof of it." +</P> + +<P> +"Is the proof in any way connected with money?" Hugh inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"I call that hard on me," Mr. Vimpany protested. "No unfriendly +interruptions, Mountjoy! I offer a proof of kindly feeling. Do you mean +to hurt me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly not. Go on." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you; a little encouragement goes a long way with me. I have +found a bookseller, who will publish my contemplated work, on +commission. Not a soul has yet seen the estimate of expenses. I propose +to show it to You." +</P> + +<P> +"Quite needless, Mr. Vimpany." +</P> + +<P> +"Why quite needless?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because I decline lending you the money." +</P> + +<P> +"No, no, Mountjoy! You can't really mean that?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do mean it." +</P> + +<P> +"No!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes!" +</P> + +<P> +The doctor's face showed a sudden change of expression—-a sinister and +threatening change. "Don't drive me into a corner," he said. "Think of +it again." +</P> + +<P> +Hugh's capacity for controlling himself gave way at last. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you presume to threaten me?" he said. "Understand, if you please, +that my mind is made up, and that nothing you can say or do will alter +it." +</P> + +<P> +With that declaration he rose from his chair, and waited for Mr. +Vimpany's departure. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor put on his hat. His eyes rested on Hugh, with a look of +diabolical malice: "The time is not far off, Mr. Mountjoy, when you may +be sorry you refused me." He said those words deliberately—and took +his leave. +</P> + +<P> +Released from the man's presence, Hugh found himself strangely +associating the interests of Iris with the language—otherwise beneath +notice—which Mr. Vimpany had used on leaving the room. +</P> + +<P> +In desperate straits for want of money, how would the audacious +bankrupt next attempt to fill his empty purse? If he had, by any +chance, renewed his relations with his Irish friend—and such an event +was at least possible—his next experiment in the art of raising a loan +might take him to Paris. Lord Harry had already ventured on a +speculation which called for an immediate outlay of money, and which +was only expected to put a profit into his pocket at some future +period. In the meanwhile, his resources in money had their limits; and +his current expenses would make imperative demands on an ill-filled +purse. If the temptation to fail in his resolution to respect his +wife's fortune was already trying his fortitude, what better excuse +could be offered for yielding than the necessities of an old friend in +a state of pecuniary distress? +</P> + +<P> +Looking at the position of Iris, and at the complications which +threatened it, from this point of view, Mountjoy left the hotel to +consult with Mrs. Vimpany. It rested with her to decide whether the +circumstances justified his departure for Paris. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap26"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +LONDON AND PARIS +</H3> + +<P> +INFORMED of all that Hugh could tell her relating to his interview with +her husband, Mrs. Vimpany understood and appreciated his fears for the +future. She failed, however, to agree with him that he would do well to +take the journey to France, under present circumstances. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait a little longer in London," she said. "If Iris doesn't write to +me in the next few days there will be a reason for her silence; and in +that case (as I have already told you) I shall hear from Fanny Mere. +You shall see me when I get a letter from Paris." +</P> + +<P> +On the last morning in the week, Mrs. Vimpany was announced. The letter +that she brought with her had been written by Fanny Mere. With the pen +in her hand, the maid's remarkable character expressed itself as +strongly as ever:— +</P> + +<P> +"Madam,—I said I would let you know what goes on here, when I thought +there was need of it. There seems to be need now. Mr. Vimpany came to +us yesterday. He has the spare bedroom. My mistress says nothing, and +writes nothing. For that reason, I send you the present writing.—Your +humble servant, F." +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy was perplexed by this letter, plain as it was. +</P> + +<P> +"It seems strange," he said, "that Iris herself has not written to you. +She has never hitherto concealed her opinion of Mr. Vimpany." +</P> + +<P> +"She is concealing it now," Mr. Vimpany's wife replied gravely. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know why?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am afraid I do. Iris will not hesitate at any sacrifice of herself +to please Lord Harry. She will give him her money when he wants it. If +he tells her to alter her opinion of my husband, she will obey him. He +can shake her confidence in me, whenever he pleases; and he has very +likely done it already." +</P> + +<P> +"Surely it is time for me to go to her now?" Hugh said. +</P> + +<P> +"Full time," Mrs. Vimpany admitted—"if you can feel sure of yourself. +In the interests of Iris, can you undertake to be cool and careful?" +</P> + +<P> +"In the interests of Iris, I can undertake anything." +</P> + +<P> +"One word more," Mrs. Vimpany continued, "before you take your +departure. No matter whether appearances are for him, or against him, +be always on your guard with my husband. Let me hear from you while you +are away; and don't forget that there is an obstacle between you and +Iris, which will put even your patience and devotion to a hard trial." +</P> + +<P> +"You mean her husband?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do." +</P> + +<P> +There was no more to be said, Hugh set forth on his journey to Paris. +</P> + +<HR WIDTH="60%" ALIGN="center"> + +<P> +On the morning after his arrival in the French capital, Mountjoy had +two alternatives to consider. He might either write to Iris, and ask +when it would be convenient to her to receive him—or he might present +himself unexpectedly in the cottage at Passy. Reflection convinced him +that his best chance of placing an obstacle in the way of deception +would be to adopt the second alternative, and to take Lord Harry and +the doctor by surprise. +</P> + +<P> +He went to Passy. The lively French taste had brightened the cottage +with colour: the fair white window curtains were tied with +rose-coloured ribbons, the blinds were gaily painted, the chimneys were +ornamental, the small garden was a paradise of flowers. When Mountjoy +rang the bell, the gate was opened by Fanny Mere. She looked at him in +grave astonishment. +</P> + +<P> +"Do they expect you?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind that," Hugh answered. "Are they at home?" +</P> + +<P> +"They have just finished breakfast, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you remember my name?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Then show me in." +</P> + +<P> +Fanny opened the door of a room on the ground floor, and announced: +"Mr. Mountjoy." +</P> + +<P> +The two men were smoking; Iris was watering some flowers in the window. +Her colour instantly faded when Hugh entered the room. In doubt and +alarm, her eyes questioned Lord Harry. He was in his sweetest state of +good-humour. Urged by the genial impulse of the moment, he set the +example of a cordial reception. "This is an agreeable surprise, +indeed," he said, shaking hands with Mountjoy in his easy amiable way. +"It's kind of you to come and see us." Relieved of anxiety (evidently +when she had not expected it), Iris eagerly followed her husband's +example: her face recovered its colour, and brightened with its +prettiest smile. Mr. Vimpany stood in a corner; his cigar went out: his +own wife would hardly have known him again—he actually presented an +appearance of embarrassment! Lord Harry burst out laughing: "Look at +him Iris! The doctor is shy for the first time in his life." The Irish +good-humour was irresistible. The young wife merrily echoed her +husband's laugh. Mr. Vimpany, observing the friendly reception offered +to Hugh, felt the necessity of adapting himself to circumstances. He +came out of his corner with an apology: "Sorry I misbehaved myself, Mr. +Mountjoy, when I called on you in London. Shake hands. No offence—eh?" +Iris, in feverish high spirits, mimicked the doctor's coarse tones when +he repeated his favourite form of excuse. Lord Harry clapped his hands, +delighted with his wife's clever raillery: "Ha! Mr. Mountjoy, you don't +find that her married life has affected her spirits! May I hope that +you have come here to breakfast? The table is ready as you see"—— +</P> + +<P> +"And I have been taking lessons, Hugh, in French ways of cooking eggs," +Iris added; "pray let me show you what I can do." The doctor chimed in +facetiously: "I'm Lady Harry's medical referee; you'll find her French +delicacies half digested for you, sir, before you can open your mouth: +signed, Clarence Vimpany, member of the College of Surgeons." +Remembering Mrs. Vimpany's caution, Hugh concealed his distrust of this +outbreak of hospitable gaiety, and made his excuses. Lord Harry +followed, with more excuses, on his part. He deplored it—but he was +obliged to go out. Had Mr. Mountjoy met with the new paper which was to +beat "Galiguani" out of the field? The "Continental Herald "—there was +the title. "Forty thousand copies of the first number have just flown +all over Europe; we have our agencies in every town of importance, at +every point of the compass; and, one of the great proprietors, my dear +sir, is the humble individual who now addresses you." His bright eyes +sparkled with boyish pleasure, as he made that announcement of his own +importance. If Mr. Mountjoy would kindly excuse him, he had an +appointment at the office that morning. "Get your hat, Vimpany. The +fact is our friend here carries a case of consumption in his pocket; +consumption of the purse, you understand. I am going to enrol him among +the contributors to the newspaper. A series of articles (between +ourselves) exposing the humbug of physicians, and asserting with fine +satirical emphasis the overstocked state of the medical profession. Ah, +well! you'll be glad (won't you?) to talk over old times with Iris. My +angel, show our good friend the 'Continental Herald,' and mind you keep +him here till we get back. Doctor, look alive! Mr. Mountjoy, au +revoir." They shook hands again heartily. As Mrs. Vimpany had +confessed, there was no resisting the Irish lord. +</P> + +<P> +But Hugh's strange experience of that morning was not at an end, yet. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap27"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE BRIDE AT HOME +</H3> + +<P> +LEFT alone with the woman whose charm still held him to her, cruelly as +she had tried his devotion by her marriage, Mountjoy found the fluent +amiability of the husband imitated by the wife. She, too, when the door +had hardly closed on Lord Harry, was bent on persuading Hugh that her +marriage had been the happiest event of her life. +</P> + +<P> +"Will you think the worse of me," she began, "if I own that I had +little expectation of seeing you again?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly not, Iris." +</P> + +<P> +"Consider my situation," she went on. "When I remember how you tried +(oh, conscientiously tried!) to prevent my marriage—how you predicted +the miserable results that would follow, if Harry's life and my life +became one—could I venture to hope that you would come here, and judge +for yourself? Dear and good friend, I have nothing to fear from the +result; your presence was never more welcome to me than it is now!" +</P> + +<P> +Whether it was attributable to prejudice on Mountjoy's part, or to keen +and just observation, he detected something artificial in the ring of +her enthusiasm; there was not the steady light of truth in her eyes, +which he remembered in the past and better days of their companionship. +He was a little—just a little—irritated. The temptation to remind her +that his distrust of Lord Harry had once been her distrust too, proved +to be more than his frailty could resist. +</P> + +<P> +"Your memory is generally exact," he said; "but it hardly serves you +now as well as usual." +</P> + +<P> +"What have I forgotten?" +</P> + +<P> +"You have forgotten the time, my dear, when your opinion was almost as +strongly against a marriage with Lord Harry as mine." +</P> + +<P> +Her answer was ready on the instant: "Ah, I didn't know him then as +well as I know him now!" +</P> + +<P> +Some men, in Mountjoy's position, might have been provoked into hinting +that there were sides to her husband's character which she had probably +not discovered yet. But Hugh's gentle temper—ruffled for a moment +only—had recovered its serenity. Her friend was her true friend still; +he said no more on the subject of her marriage. +</P> + +<P> +"Old habits are not easily set aside," he reminded her. "I have been so +long accustomed to advise you and help you, that I find myself hoping +there may be some need for my services still. Is there no way in which +I might relieve you of the hateful presence of Mr. Vimpany?" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear Hugh, I wish you had not mentioned Mr. Vimpany." +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy concluded that the subject was disagreeable to her. "After the +opinion of him which you expressed in your letter to me," he said, "I +ought not to have spoken of the doctor. Pray forgive me." +</P> + +<P> +Iris looked distressed. "Oh, you are quite mistaken! The poor doctor +has been sadly misjudged; and I"—she shook her head, and sighed +penitently—"and, I," she resumed, "am one among other people who have +ignorantly wronged him. Pray consult my husband. Hear what he can tell +you—and you will pity Mr. Vimpany. The newspaper makes such large +demands on our means that we can do little to help him. With your +recommendation he might find some employment." +</P> + +<P> +"He has already asked me to assist him, Iris; and I have refused. I +can't agree with your change of opinion about Mr. Vimpany." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not? Is it because he has separated from his wife?" +</P> + +<P> +"That is one reason, among many others," Mountjoy replied. +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed, indeed you are wrong! Lord Harry has known Mrs. Vimpany for +years, and he says—I am truly sorry to hear it—that the separation is +her fault." +</P> + +<P> +Hugh changed the subject again. The purpose which had mainly induced +him to leave England had not been mentioned yet. +</P> + +<P> +Alluding to the newspaper, and to the heavy pecuniary demands made by +the preliminary expenses of the new journal, he reminded Iris that +their long and intimate friendship permitted him to feel some interest +in her affairs. "I won't venture to express an opinion," he added; "let +me only ask if Lord Harry's investments in this speculation have +compelled him to make some use of your little fortune?" +</P> + +<P> +"My husband refused to touch my fortune," Iris answered. "But"—She +paused, there. "Do you know how honourably, how nobly, he has behaved?" +she abruptly resumed. "He has insured his life: he has burdened himself +with the payment of a large sum of money every year. And all for me, if +I am so unfortunate (which God forbid!) as to survive him. When a large +share in the newspaper was for sale, do you think I could be ungrateful +enough to let him lose the chance of making our fortune, when the +profits begin to come in? I insisted on advancing the money—we almost +quarrelled about it—but, you know how sweet he is. I said: 'Don't +distress me'; and the dearest of men let me have my own way." +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy listened in silence. To have expressed what he felt would have +been only to mortify and offend Iris. Old habit (as he had said) had +made the idea of devoting himself to her interests the uppermost idea +in his mind. He asked if the money had all been spent. Hearing that +some of it was still left, he resolved on making the attempt to secure +the remains of her fortune to herself. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me," he said, "have you ever heard of such a thing as buying an +annuity?" +</P> + +<P> +She knew nothing about it. He carefully explained the method by which a +moderate sum of money might be made to purchase a sufficient income for +life. She offered no objection, when he proposed to write to his lawyer +in London for the necessary particulars. But when he asked her to tell +him what the sum was of which she might be still able to dispose, Iris +hesitated, and made no reply. +</P> + +<P> +This time, Hugh arrived at the right conclusion. +</P> + +<P> +It was only too plain to him that what remained of her money +represented an amount so trifling that she was ashamed to mention it. +Of the need for helping her, there could be no doubt now; and, as for +the means, no difficulties presented themselves to Mountjoy—always +excepting the one obstacle likely to be offered by the woman herself. +Experience warned him to approach her delicately, by the indirect way. +</P> + +<P> +"You know me well enough," he said, "to feel sure that I am incapable +of saying anything which can embarrass you, or cause a moment's +misunderstanding between two old friends. Won't you look at me, Iris, +when I am speaking to you?" +</P> + +<P> +She still looked away from him. "I am afraid of what you are going to +say to me," she answered coldly. +</P> + +<P> +"Then let me say it at once. In one of your letters, written long +since—I don't suppose you remember it—you told me that I was an +obstinate man when I once took a thing into my head. You were quite +right. My dear, I have taken it into my head that you will be as ready +as ever to accept my advice, and will leave me (as your man of +business) to buy the annuity"— +</P> + +<P> +She stopped him. +</P> + +<P> +"No," she cried, "I won't hear a word more! Do you think I am +insensible to years of kindness that I have never deserved? Do you +think I forget how nobly you have forgiven me for those cruel refusals +which have saddened your life? Is it possible that you expect me to +borrow money of You?" She started wildly to her feet. "I declare, as +God hears me, I would rather die than take that base, that shameful +advantage of all your goodness to me. The woman never lived who owed so +much to a man, as I owe to you—but not money! Oh, my dear, not money! +not money!" +</P> + +<P> +He was too deeply touched to be able to speak to her—and she saw it. +"What a wretch I am," she said to herself; "I have made his heart +ache!" +</P> + +<P> +He heard those words. Still feeling for her—never, never for +himself!—he tried to soothe her. In the passion of her self-reproach, +she refused to hear him. Pacing the room from end to end, she fanned +the fiery emotion that was consuming her. Now, she reviled herself in +language that broke through the restraints by which good breeding sets +its seal on a woman's social rank. And now, again, she lost herself +more miserably still, and yielded with hysteric recklessness to a +bitter outburst of gaiety. +</P> + +<P> +"If you wish to be married happily," she cried, "never be as fond of +any other woman as you have been of me. We are none of us worth it. +Laugh at us, Hugh—do anything but believe in us. We all lie, my +friend. And I have been lying—shamelessly! shamelessly!" +</P> + +<P> +He tried to check her. "Don't talk in that way, Iris," he said sternly. +</P> + +<P> +She laughed at him. "Talk?" she repeated. "It isn't that; it's a +confession." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't desire to hear your confession." +</P> + +<P> +"You must hear it—you have drawn it out of me. Come! we'll enjoy my +humiliation together. Contradict every word I said to you about that +brute and blackguard, the doctor—and you will have the truth. What +horrid inconsistency, isn't it? I can't help myself; I am a wretched, +unreasonable creature; I don't know my own mind for two days together, +and all through my husband—I am so fond of him; Harry is delightfully +innocent; he's like a nice boy; he never seemed to think of Mr. +Vimpany, till it was settled between them that the doctor was to come +and stay here——and then he persuaded me—oh, I don't know how!—to +see his friend in quite a new light. I believed him—and I believe him +still—I mean I <I>would</I> believe him, but for you. Will you do me a +favour? I wish you wouldn't look at me with those eyes that won't lie; +I wish you wouldn't speak to me with that voice which finds things out. +Oh, good Heavens, do you suppose I would let you think that my husband +is a bad man, and my marriage an unhappy one? Never! If it turns my +blood to sit and eat at the same table with Mr. Vimpany, I'm not cruel +enough to blame the dear doctor. It's my wickedness that's to blame. We +shall quarrel, if you tell me that Harry is capable of letting a rascal +be his friend. I'm happy; I'm happy; I'm happy!—do you understand +that? Oh, Hugh, I wish you had never come to see me!" +</P> + +<P> +She burst into a passionate fit of weeping, broken down at last under +the terrible strain laid on her. "Let me hide myself!" was all that +Iris could say to her old friend—before she ran out of the room, and +left him. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap28"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXVIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE MAID AND THE KEYHOLE +</H3> + +<P> +DEEPLY as she had grieved him, keenly as he felt that his worst fears +for her threatened already to be realised, it was characteristic of +Mountjoy that he still refused to despair of Iris—even with the +husband's influence against him. +</P> + +<P> +The moral deterioration of her, revealed in the false words that she +had spoken, and in the deceptions that she had attempted, would have +justified the saddest misgivings, but for the voluntary confession +which had followed, and the signs which it had shown of the better +nature still struggling to assert itself. How could Hugh hope to +encourage that effort of resistance to the evil influences that were +threatening her—first and foremost, among them, being the arrival of +Vimpany at the cottage? His presence kept her in a state of perpetual +contention, between her own wise instincts which distrusted him, and +her husband's authoritative assertions which recommended him to her +confidence. No greater service could be rendered to Iris than the +removal of this man—but how could it be accomplished, without giving +offence to her husband? Mountjoy's mind was still in search of a means +of overcoming the obstacle thus presented, when he heard the door open. +Had Iris recovered herself? or had Lord Harry and his friend returned? +</P> + +<P> +The person who now entered the room was the strange and silent maid, +Fanny Mere. +</P> + +<P> +"Can I speak to you, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly. What is it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Please give me your address." +</P> + +<P> +"For your mistress?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Does she wish to write to me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +Hugh gave the strange creature the address of his hotel in Paris. For a +moment, her eyes rested on him with an expression of steady scrutiny. +She opened the door to go out—-stopped—considered—came back again. +</P> + +<P> +"I want to speak for myself," she said. "Do you care to hear what a +servant has to say?" +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy replied that he was ready to hear what she had to say. She at +once stepped up to him, and addressed him in these words: +</P> + +<P> +"I think you are fond of my mistress?" +</P> + +<P> +An ordinary man might have resented the familiar manner in which she +had expressed herself. Mountjoy waited for what was still to come. +Fanny Mere abruptly went on, with a nearer approach to agitation in her +manner than she had shown yet: +</P> + +<P> +"My mistress took me into her service; she trusted me when other ladies +would have shown me the door. When she sent for me to see her, my +character was lost; I had nobody to feel for me, nobody to help me. She +is the one friend who held out a hand to me. I hate the men; I don't +care for the women. Except one. Being a servant I mustn't say I love +that one. If I was a lady, I don't know that I should say it. Love is +cant; love is rubbish. Tell me one thing. Is the doctor a friend of +yours?" +</P> + +<P> +"The doctor is nothing of the kind." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps he is your enemy?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can hardly say that." +</P> + +<P> +She looked at Hugh discontentedly. "I want to get at it," she said. +"Why can't we understand each other? Will you laugh at me, if I say the +first thing that comes into my head? Are you a good swimmer?" +</P> + +<P> +An extraordinary question, even from Fanny Mere. It was put +seriously—and seriously Mountjoy answered it. He said that he was +considered to be a good swimmer. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps," she continued, "you have saved people's lives." +</P> + +<P> +"I have twice been so fortunate as to save lives," he replied. +</P> + +<P> +"If you saw the doctor drowning, would you save him? <I>I</I> wouldn't!" +</P> + +<P> +"Do you hate him as bitterly as that?" Hugh asked. +</P> + +<P> +She passed the question over without notice. "I wish you would help me +to get at it," she persisted. "Suppose you could rid my mistress of +that man by giving him a kick, would you up with your foot and do it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—with pleasure." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, sir. Now I've got it. Mr. Mountjoy, the doctor is the curse +of my mistress's life. I can't bear to see it. If we are not relieved +of him somehow, I shall do something wrong. When I wait at table, and +see him using his knife, I want to snatch it out of his hand, and stick +it into him. I had a hope that my lord might turn him out of the house +when they quarrelled. My lord is too wicked himself to do it. For the +love of God, sir, help my mistress—or show me the way how!" +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy began to be interested. "How do you know," he asked, "that +Lord Harry and the doctor have quarrelled?" +</P> + +<P> +Without the slightest appearance of embarrassment, Fanny Mere informed +him that she had listened at the door, while her master and his friend +were talking of their secrets. She had also taken an opportunity of +looking through the keyhole. "I suppose, sir," said this curious woman, +still speaking quite respectfully, "you have never tried that way +yourself?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly not!" +</P> + +<P> +"Wouldn't you do it to serve my mistress?" +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"And yet, you're fond of her! You are a merciful one—the only merciful +one, so far as I know—among men. Perhaps, if you were frightened about +her, you might be more ready with your help. I wonder whether I can +frighten you? Will you let me try?" +</P> + +<P> +The woman's faithful attachment to Iris pleaded for her with Hugh. +"Try, if you like," he said kindly. +</P> + +<P> +Speaking as seriously as ever, Fanny proceeded to describe her +experience at the keyhole. What she had seen was not worth relating. +What she had heard proved to be more important. +</P> + +<P> +The talk between my lord and the doctor had been about raising money. +They had different notions of how to do that. My lord's plan was to +borrow what was wanted, on his life-insurance. The doctor told him he +couldn't do that, till his insurance had been going on for three or +four years at least. "I have something better and bolder to propose," +says Mr. Vimpany. It must have been also something wicked—for he +whispered it in the master's ear. My lord didn't take to it kindly. +"How do you think I could face my wife," he says, "if she discovered +me?" The doctor says: "Don't be afraid of your wife; Lady Harry will +get used to many things which she little thought of before she married +you." Says my lord to that: "I have done my best, Vimpany, to improve +my wife's opinion of you. If you say much more, I shall come round to +her way of thinking. Drop it!"—"All right," says the doctor, "I'll +drop it now, and wait to pick it up again till you come to your last +bank note." There the talk ended for that day—-and Fanny would be glad +to know what Mr. Mountjoy thought of it. +</P> + +<P> +"I think you have done me a service," Hugh replied. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me how, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"I can only tell you this, Fanny. You have shown me how to relieve your +mistress of the doctor." +</P> + +<P> +For the first time, the maid's impenetrable composure completely failed +her. The smouldering fire in Fanny Mere flamed up. She impulsively +kissed Mountjoy's hand. The moment her lips touched it she shrank back: +the natural pallor of her face became whiter than ever. Startled by the +sudden change, Hugh asked if she was ill. +</P> + +<P> +She shook her head. +</P> + +<P> +"It isn't that. Yours is the first man's hand I have kissed, since—" +She checked herself. "I beg you won't ask me about it. I only meant to +thank you, sir; I do thank you with all my heart—I mustn't stay here +any longer." +</P> + +<P> +As she spoke the sound of a key was heard, opening the lock of the +cottage-door. Lord Harry had returned. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap29"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXIX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE CONQUEST OF MR. VIMPANY +</H3> + +<P> +THE Irish lord came in—with his medical friend sulkily in attendance +on him. He looked at Fanny, and asked where her mistress was. +</P> + +<P> +"My lady is in her room, sir." +</P> + +<P> +Hearing this, he turned sharply to Mountjoy. On the point of speaking, +he seemed to think better of it, and went to his wife's room. The maid +followed. "Get rid of him now," she whispered to Hugh, glancing at the +doctor. Mr. Vimpany was in no very approachable humour—standing at the +window, with his hands in his empty pockets, gloomily looking out. But +Hugh was not disposed to neglect the opportunity; he ventured to say: +"You don't seem to be in such good spirits as usual." +</P> + +<P> +The doctor gruffly expressed his opinion that Mr. Mountjoy would not be +particularly cheerful, in his place. My lord had taken him to the +office, on the distinct understanding that he was to earn a little +pocket-money by becoming one of the contributors to the newspaper. And +how had it ended? The editor had declared that his list of writers was +full, and begged leave to suggest that Mr. Vimpany should wait for the +next vacancy. A most impertinent proposal! Had Lord Harry—a +proprietor, remember—exerted his authority? Not he! His lordship had +dropped the doctor "like a hot potato," and had meanly submitted to his +own servant. What did Mr. Mountjoy think of such conduct as that? +</P> + +<P> +Hugh answered the question, with his own end in view. Paving the way +for Mr. Vimpany's departure from the cottage at Passy, he made a polite +offer of his services. +</P> + +<P> +"Can't I help you out of your difficulty?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +"You!" cried the doctor. "Have you forgotten how you received me, sir, +when I asked for a loan at your hotel in London?" +</P> + +<P> +Hugh admitted that he might have spoken hastily. "You took me by +surprise," he said, "and (perhaps I was mistaken, on my side) I thought +you were, to say the least of it, not particularly civil. You did +certainly use threatening language when you left me. No man likes to be +treated in that way." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany's big bold eyes stared at Mountjoy in a state of +bewilderment. "Are you trying to make a fool of me?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I am incapable, Mr. Vimpany, of an act of rudeness towards anybody." +</P> + +<P> +"If you come to that," the doctor stoutly declared, "I am incapable +too. It's plain to me that we have been misunderstanding each other. +Wait a bit; I want to go back for a moment to that threatening language +which you complained of just now. I was sorry for what I had said as +soon as your door was shut on me. On my way downstairs I did think of +turning back and making a friendly apology before I gave you up. +Suppose I had done that?" Mr. Vimpany asked, wondering internally +whether Mountjoy was foolish enough to believe him. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh advanced a little nearer to the design that he had in view. +</P> + +<P> +"You might have found me more kindly disposed towards you," he said, +"than you had anticipated." +</P> + +<P> +This encouraging reply cost him an effort. He had stooped to the +unworthy practice of perverting what he had said and done on a former +occasion, to serve a present interest. Remind himself as he might of +the end which, in the interests of Iris, did really appear to justify +the means, he still sank to a place in his own estimation which he was +honestly ashamed to occupy. +</P> + +<P> +Under other circumstances his hesitation, slight as it was, might have +excited suspicion. As things were, Mr. Vimpany could only discover +golden possibilities that dazzled his eyes. "I wonder whether you're in +the humour," he said, "to be kindly disposed towards me now?" +</P> + +<P> +It was needless to be careful of the feelings of such man as this. +"Suppose you had the money you want in your pocket," Hugh suggested, +"what would you do with it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Go back to London, to be sure, and publish the first number of that +work of mine I told you of." +</P> + +<P> +"And leave your friend, Lord Harry?" +</P> + +<P> +"What good is my friend to me? He's nearly as poor as I am—he sent for +me to advise him—I put him up to a way of filling both our pockets, +and he wouldn't hear of it. What sort of a friend do you call that?" +</P> + +<P> +Pay him and get rid of him. There was the course of proceeding +suggested by the private counsellor in Mountjoy's bosom. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you got the publisher's estimate of expenses?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor instantly produced the document. +</P> + +<P> +To a rich man the sum required was, after all, trifling enough. +Mountjoy sat down at the writing-table. As he took up a pen, Mr. +Vimpany's protuberant eyes looked as if they would fly out of his head. +</P> + +<P> +"If I lend you the money—" Hugh began. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes? Yes?" cried the doctor. +</P> + +<P> +"I do so on condition that nobody is to know of the loan but +ourselves." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, sir, on my sacred word of honour—" An order on Mountjoy's bankers +in Paris for the necessary amount, with something added for travelling +expenses, checked Mr. Vimpany in full career of protestation. He tried +to begin again: "My friend! my benefactor—" +</P> + +<P> +He was stopped once more. His friend and benefactor pointed to the +clock. +</P> + +<P> +"If you want the money to-day, you have just time to get to Paris +before the bank closes." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany did want the money—always wanted the money; his gratitude +burst out for the third time: "God bless you!" +</P> + +<P> +The object of that highly original form of benediction pointed through +the window in the direction of the railway station. Mr. Vimpany +struggled no longer to express his feelings—he had made his last +sacrifice to appearances—he caught the train. +</P> + +<P> +The door of the room had been left open. A voice outside said: "Has he +gone?" +</P> + +<P> +"Come in, Fanny," said Mountjoy. "He will return to London either +to-night or to-morrow morning." +</P> + +<P> +The strange maid put her head in at the door. "I'll be at the +terminus," she said, "and make sure of him." +</P> + +<P> +Her head suddenly disappeared, before it was possible to speak to her +again. "Was there some other person outside? The other person entered +the room; it was Lord Harry. He spoke without his customary smile. +</P> + +<P> +"I want a word with you, Mr. Mountjoy." +</P> + +<P> +"About what, my lord?" +</P> + +<P> +That direct question seemed to confuse the Irishman. He hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"About you," he said, and stopped to consider. "And another person," he +added mysteriously. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh was constitutionally a hater of mysteries. He felt the need of a +more definite reply, and asked for it plainly: +</P> + +<P> +"Does your lordship associate that other person with me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I do." +</P> + +<P> +"Who is the person?" +</P> + +<P> +"My wife." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap30"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SAXON AND CELT +</H3> + +<P> +WHEN amicable relations between two men happen to be in jeopardy, there +is least danger of an ensuing quarrel if the friendly intercourse has +been of artificial growth, on either side. In this case, the promptings +of self-interest, and the laws of politeness, have been animating +influences throughout; acting under conditions which assist the effort +of self-control. And for this reason: the man who has never really +taken a high place in our regard is unprovided with those sharpest +weapons of provocation, which make unendurable demands on human +fortitude. In a true attachment, on the other hand, there is an +innocent familiarity implied, which is forgetful of ceremony, and blind +to consequences. The affectionate freedom which can speak kindly +without effort is sensitive to offence, and can speak harshly without +restraint. When the friend who wounds us has once been associated with +the sacred memories of the heart, he strikes at a tender place, and no +considerations of propriety are powerful enough to stifle our cry of +rage and pain. The enemies who have once loved each other are the +bitterest enemies of all. +</P> + +<P> +Thus, the curt exchange of question and answer, which had taken place +in the cottage at Passy, between two gentlemen artificially friendly to +one another, led to no regrettable result. Lord Harry had been too +readily angry: he remembered what was due to Mr. Mountjoy. Mr. Mountjoy +had been too thoughtlessly abrupt: he remembered what was due to Lord +Harry. The courteous Irishman bowed, and pointed to a chair. The +well-bred Englishman returned the polite salute, and sat down. My lord +broke the silence that followed. +</P> + +<P> +"May I hope that you will excuse me," he began, "if I walk about the +room? Movement seems to help me when I am puzzled how to put things +nicely. Sometimes I go round and round the subject, before I get at it. +I'm afraid I'm going round and round, now. Have you arranged to make a +long stay in Paris?" +</P> + +<P> +Circumstances, Mountjoy answered, would probably decide him. +</P> + +<P> +"You have no doubt been many times in Paris before this," Lord Harry +continued. "Do you find it at all dull, now?" +</P> + +<P> +Wondering what he could possibly mean, Hugh said he never found Paris +dull—and waited for further enlightenment. The Irish lord persisted: +</P> + +<P> +"People mostly think Paris isn't as gay as it used to be. Not such good +plays and such good actors as they had at one time. The restaurants +inferior, and society very much mixed. People don't stay there as long +as they used. I'm told that Americans are getting disappointed, and are +trying London for a change." +</P> + +<P> +Could he have any serious motive for this irrelevant way of talking? Or +was he, to judge by his own account of himself, going round and round +the subject of his wife and his guest, before he could get at it? +</P> + +<P> +Suspecting him of jealousy from the first, Hugh failed—naturally +perhaps in his position—to understand the regard for Iris, and the +fear of offending her, by which her jealous husband was restrained. +Lord Harry was attempting (awkwardly indeed!) to break off the +relations between his wife and her friend, by means which might keep +the true state of his feelings concealed from both of them. Ignorant of +this claim on his forbearance, it was Mountjoy's impression that he was +being trifled with. Once more, he waited for enlightenment, and waited +in silence. +</P> + +<P> +"You don't find my conversation interesting?" Lord Harry remarked, +still with perfect good-humour. +</P> + +<P> +"I fail to see the connection," Mountjoy acknowledged, "between what +you have said so far, and the subject on which you expressed your +intention of speaking to me. Pray forgive me if I appear to hurry +you—or if you have any reasons for hesitation." +</P> + +<P> +Far from being offended, this incomprehensible man really appeared to +be pleased. "You read me like a book!" he exclaimed. "It's hesitation +that's the matter with me. I'm a variable man. If there's something +disagreeable to say, there are times when I dash at it, and times when +I hang back. Can I offer you any refreshment?" he asked, getting away +from the subject again, without so much as an attempt at concealment. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh thanked him, and declined. +</P> + +<P> +"Not even a glass of wine? Such white Burgundy, my dear sir, as you +seldom taste." +</P> + +<P> +Hugh's British obstinacy was roused; he repeated his reply. Lord Harry +looked at him gravely, and made a nearer approach to an open confession +of feeling than he had ventured on yet. +</P> + +<P> +"With regard now to my wife. When I went away this morning with +Vimpany—he's not such good company as he used to be; soured by +misfortune, poor devil; I wish he would go back to London. As I was +saying—I mean as I was about to say—I left you and Lady Harry +together this morning; two old friends, glad (as I supposed) to have a +gossip about old times. When I come back, I find you left here alone, +and I am told that Lady Harry is in her room. What do I see when I get +there? I see the finest pair of eyes in the world; and the tale they +tell me is, We have been crying. When I ask what may have happened to +account for this—'Nothing, dear,' is all the answer I get. What's the +impression naturally produced on my mind? There has been a quarrel +perhaps between you and my wife." +</P> + +<P> +"I fail entirely, Lord Harry, to see it in that light." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, likely enough! Mine's the Irish point of view. As an Englishman +you fail to understand it. Let that be. One thing; Mr. Mountjoy, I'll +take the freedom of saying at once. I'll thank you, next time, to +quarrel with Me." +</P> + +<P> +"You force me to tell you, my lord, that you are under a complete +delusion, if you suppose that there has been any quarrel, or approach +to a quarrel, between Lady Harry and myself." +</P> + +<P> +"You tell me that, on your word of honour as a gentleman?" +</P> + +<P> +"Most assuredly!" +</P> + +<P> +"Sir! I deeply regret to hear it." +</P> + +<P> +"Which does your lordship deeply regret? That I have spoken to you on +my word of honour, or that I have not quarrelled with Lady Harry?" +</P> + +<P> +"Both, sir! By the piper that played before Moses, both!" +</P> + +<P> +Hugh got up, and took his hat: "We may have a better chance of +understanding each other," he suggested, "if you will be so good as to +write to me." +</P> + +<P> +"Put your hat down again, Mr. Mountjoy, and pray have a moment's +patience. I've tried to like you, sir—and I'm bound in candour to own +that I've failed to find a bond of union between us. Maybe, this frank +confession annoys you." +</P> + +<P> +"Far from it! You are going straight to your subject at last, if I may +venture to say so." +</P> + +<P> +The Irish lord's good-humour had completely disappeared by this time. +His handsome face hardened, and his voice rose. The outbreak of jealous +feeling, which motives honourable to himself had hitherto controlled, +now seized on its freedom of expression. His language betrayed (as on +some former occasions) that association with unworthy companions, which +had been one of the evil results of his adventurous life. +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe I'll go straighter than you bargain for," he replied; "I'm in +two humours about you. My common-sense tells me that you're my wife's +friend. And the best of friends do sometimes quarrel, don't they? Well, +sir, you deny it, on your own account. I find myself forced back on my +other humour—and it's a black humour, I can tell you. You may be my +wife's friend, my fine fellow, but you're something more than that. You +have always been in love with her—and you're in love with her now. +Thank you for your visit, but don't repeat it. Say! do we understand +each other at last?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have too sincere a respect for Lady Harry to answer you," Mountjoy +said. "At the same time, let me acknowledge my obligations to your +lordship. You have reminded me that I did a foolish thing when I called +here without an invitation. I agree with you that the sooner my mistake +is set right the better." +</P> + +<P> +He replied in those words, and left the cottage. +</P> + +<P> +On the way back to his hotel, Hugh thought of what Mrs. Vimpany had +said to him when they had last seen each other: "Don't forget that +there is an obstacle between you and Iris which will put even your +patience and your devotion to a hard trial." The obstacle of the +husband had set itself up, and had stopped him already. +</P> + +<P> +His own act (a necessary act after the language that had been addressed +to him) had closed the doors of the cottage, and had put an end to +future meetings between Iris and himself. If they attempted to +communicate by letter, Lord Harry would have opportunities of +discovering their correspondence, of which his jealousy would certainly +avail itself. Through the wakeful night, Hugh's helpless situation was +perpetually in his thoughts. There seemed to be no present alternative +before him but resignation, and a return to England. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap31"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS +</H3> + +<P> +ON the next day Mountjoy heard news of Iris, which was not of a nature +to relieve his anxieties. He received a visit from Fanny Mere. +</P> + +<P> +The leave-taking of Mr. Vimpany, on the previous evening, was the first +event which the maid had to relate. She had been present when the +doctor said good-bye to the master and mistress. Business in London was +the reason he gave for going away. The master had taken the excuse as +if he really believed in it, and seemed to be glad to get rid of his +friend. The mistress expressed her opinion that Mr. Vimpany's return to +London must have been brought about by an act of liberality on the part +of the most generous of living men. <I>"Your</I> friend has, as I believe, +got some money from <I>my</I> friend," she said to her husband. My lord had +looked at her very strangely when she spoke of Mr. Mountjoy in that +way, and had walked out of the room. As soon as his back was turned, +Fanny had obtained leave of absence. She had carried out her intention +of watching the terminus, and had seen Mr. Vimpany take his place among +the passengers to London by the mail train. +</P> + +<P> +Returning to the cottage, it was Fanny's duty to ascertain if her +services were required in her mistress's room. +</P> + +<P> +On reaching the door, she had heard the voices of my lord and my lady, +and (as Mr. Mountjoy would perhaps be pleased to know) had been too +honourable to listen outside, on this occasion. She had at once gone +away, and had waited until she should be sent for. After a long +interval, the bell that summoned her had been rung. She had found the +mistress in a state of agitation, partly angry, and partly distressed; +and had ventured to ask if anything unpleasant had happened. No reply +was made to that inquiry. Fanny had silently performed the customary +duties of the night-toilet, in getting my lady ready for bed; they had +said good-night to each other and had said no more. +</P> + +<P> +In the morning (that present morning), being again in attendance as +usual, the maid had found Lady Harry in a more indulgent frame of mind; +still troubled by anxieties, but willing to speak of them now. +</P> + +<P> +She had begun by talking of Mr. Mountjoy: +</P> + +<P> +"I think you like him, Fanny: everybody likes him. You will be sorry to +hear that we have no prospect of seeing him again at the cottage." +There she had stopped; something that she had not said, yet, seemed to +be in her mind, and to trouble her. She was near to crying, poor soul, +but struggled against it. "I have no sister," she said, "and no friend +who might be like a sister to me. It isn't perhaps quite right to speak +of my sorrow to my maid. Still, there is something hard to bear in +having no kind heart near one—I mean, no other woman to speak to who +knows what women feel. It is so lonely here—oh, so lonely! I wonder +whether you understand me and pity me?" Never forgetting all that she +owed to her mistress—if she might say so without seeming to praise +herself—Fanny was truly sorry. It would have been a relief to her, if +she could have freely expressed her opinion that my lord must be to +blame, when my lady was in trouble. Being a man, he was by nature cruel +to women; the wisest thing his poor wife could do would be to expect +nothing from him. The maid was sorely tempted to offer a little good +advice to this effect; but she was afraid of her own remembrances, if +she encouraged them by speaking out boldly. It would be better to wait +for what the mistress might say next. +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry's conduct was the first subject that presented itself when +the conversation was resumed. +</P> + +<P> +My lady mentioned that she had noticed how he looked, and how he left +the room, when she had spoken in praise of Mr. Mountjoy. She had +pressed him to explain himself—-and she had made a discovery which +proved to be the bitterest disappointment of her life. Her husband +suspected her! Her husband was jealous of her! It was too cruel; it was +an insult beyond endurance, an insult to Mr. Mountjoy as well as to +herself. If that best and dearest of good friends was to be forbidden +the house, if he was to go away and never to see her or speak to her +again, of one thing she was determined—he should not leave her without +a kind word of farewell; he should hear how truly she valued him; yes, +and how she admired and felt for him! Would Fanny not do the same +thing, in her place? And Fanny had remembered the time when she might +have done it for such a man as Mr. Mountjoy. "Mind you stay indoors +this evening, sir," the maid continued, looking and speaking so +excitedly that Hugh hardly knew her again. "My mistress is coming to +see you, and I shall come with her." +</P> + +<P> +Such an act of imprudence was incredible. "You must be out of your +senses!" Mountjoy exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm out of myself sir, if that's what you mean," Fanny answered. "I do +so enjoy treating a man in that way! The master's going out to +dinner—he'll know nothing about it—and," cried the cool cold woman of +other times, "he richly deserves it." +</P> + +<P> +Hugh reasoned and remonstrated, and failed to produce the slightest +effect. +</P> + +<P> +His next effort was to write a few lines to Lady Harry, entreating her +to remember that a jealous man is sometimes capable of acts of the +meanest duplicity, and that she might be watched. When he gave the note +to Fanny to deliver, she informed him respectfully that he had better +not trust her. A person sometimes meant to do right (she reminded him), +and sometimes ended in doing wrong. Rather than disappoint her +mistress, she was quite capable of tearing up the letter, on her way +home, and saying nothing about it. Hugh tried a threat next: "Your +mistress will not find me, if she comes here; I shall go out to-night." +The impenetrable maid looked at him with a pitying smile, and answered: +</P> + +<P> +"Not you!" +</P> + +<P> +It was a humiliating reflection—but Fanny Mere understood him better +than he understood himself. +</P> + +<P> +All that Mountjoy had said and done in the way of protest, had been +really dictated by consideration for the young wife. If he questioned +his conscience, selfish delight in the happy prospect of seeing Iris +again asserted itself, as the only view with which he looked forward to +the end of the day. When the evening approached, he took the precaution +of having his own discreet and faithful servant in attendance, to +receive Lady Harry at the door of the hotel, before the ringing of the +bell could summon the porter from his lodge. On calm consideration, the +chances seemed to be in favour of her escaping detection by Lord Harry. +The jealous husband of the stage, who sooner (or later) discovers the +innocent (or guilty) couple, as the case may be, is not always the +husband of the world outside the theatre. With this fragment of +experience present in his mind, Hugh saw the door of his sitting-room +cautiously opened, at an earlier hour than he had anticipated. His +trustworthy representative introduced a lady, closely veiled—and that +lady was Iris. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap32"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +GOOD-BYE TO IRIS +</H3> + +<P> +LADY HARRY lifted her veil, and looked at Mountjoy with sad entreaty in +her eyes. "Are you angry with me?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I ought to be angry with you," he said. "This is a very imprudent, +Iris." +</P> + +<P> +"It's worse than that," she confessed. "It's reckless and desperate. +Don't say I ought to have controlled myself. I can't control the shame +I feel when I think of what has happened. Can I let you go—oh, what a +return for your kindness!—without taking your hand at parting? Come +and sit by me on the sofa. After my poor husband's conduct, you and I +are not likely to meet again. I don't expect you to lament it as I do. +Even your sweetness and your patience—so often tried—must be weary of +me now." +</P> + +<P> +"If you thought that possible, my dear, you would not have come here +to-night," Hugh reminded her. "While we live, we have the hope of +meeting again. Nothing in this world lasts, Iris—not even jealousy. +Lord Harry himself told me that he was a variable man. Sooner or later +he will come to his senses." +</P> + +<P> +Those words seemed to startle Iris. "I hope you don't think that my +husband is brutal to me!" she exclaimed, still resenting even the +appearance of a reflection on her marriage, and still forgetting what +she herself had said which justified a doubt of her happiness. "Have +you formed a wrong impression?" she went on. "Has Fanny Mere +innocently—?" +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy noticed, for the first time, the absence of the maid. It was a +circumstance which justified him in interrupting Iris—for it might +seriously affect her if her visit to the hotel happened to be +discovered. +</P> + +<P> +"I understood," he said, "that Fanny was to come here with you." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes! yes! She is waiting in the carriage. We are careful not to excite +attention at the door of the hotel; the coachman will drive up and down +the street till I want him again. Never mind that! I have something to +say to you about Fanny. She thinks of her own troubles, poor soul, when +she talks to me, and exaggerates a little without meaning it. I hope +she has not misled you in speaking of her master. It is base and bad of +him, unworthy of a gentleman, to be jealous—and he has wounded me +deeply. But dear Hugh, his jealousy is a gentle jealousy. I have heard +of other men who watch their wives—who have lost all confidence in +them—who would even have taken away from me such a trifle as this." +She smiled, and showed to Mountjoy her duplicate key of the cottage +door. "Ah, Harry is above such degrading distrust as that! There are +times when he is as heartily ashamed of his own weakness as I could +wish him to be. I have seen him on his knees before me, shocked at his +conduct. He is no hypocrite. Indeed, his repentance is sincere, while +it lasts—only it doesn't last! His jealousy rises and falls, like the +wind. He said last night (when the wind was high): 'If you wish to make +me the happiest creature on the face of the earth, don't encourage Mr. +Mountjoy to remain in Paris!' Try to make allowances for him!" +</P> + +<P> +"I would rather make allowances, Iris, for you. Do <I>you,</I> too wish me +to leave Paris?" +</P> + +<P> +Sitting very near to him—nearer than her husband might have liked to +see—Iris drew away a little. "Did you mean to be cruel in saying +that?" she asked. "I don't deserve it." +</P> + +<P> +"It was kindly meant," Hugh assured her. "If I can make your position +more endurable by going away, I will leave Paris to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +Iris moved back again to the place which she had already occupied. She +was eager to thank him (for a reason not yet mentioned) as she had +never thanked him yet. Silently and softly she offered her gratitude to +Hugh, by offering her cheek. The irritating influence of Lord Harry's +jealousy was felt by both of them at that moment. He kissed her +cheek—and lingered over it. She was the first to recover herself. +</P> + +<P> +"When you spoke just now of my position with my husband," she said, +"you reminded me of anxieties, Hugh, in which you once shared, and of +services which I can never forget." +</P> + +<P> +Preparing him in those words for the disclosure which she had now to +make, Iris alluded to the vagabond life of adventure which Lord Harry +had led. The restlessness in his nature which that life implied, had +latterly shown itself again; and his wife had traced the cause to a +letter from Ireland, communicating a report that the assassin of Arthur +Mountjoy had been seen in London, and was supposed to be passing under +the name of Carrigeen. Hugh would understand that the desperate +resolution to revenge the murder of his friend, with which Lord Harry +had left England in the past time, had been urged into action once +more. He had not concealed from Iris that she must be resigned to his +leaving her for awhile, if the report which had reached him from +Ireland proved to be true. It would be useless, and worse than useless, +to remind this reckless man of the danger that threatened him from the +Invincibles, if he returned to England. In using her power of +influencing the husband who still loved her, Iris could only hope to +exercise a salutary restraint in her own domestic interests, appealing +to him for indulgence by careful submission to any exactions on which +his capricious jealousy might insist. Would sad necessity excuse her, +if she accepted Mountjoy's offer to leave Paris, for the one reason +that her husband had asked it of her as a favour? +</P> + +<P> +Hugh at once understood her motive, and assured her of his sympathy. +</P> + +<P> +"You may depend upon my returning to London to-morrow," he said. "In +the meantime, is there no better way in which I can be of use to you? +If your influence fails, do you see any other chance of keeping Lord +Harry's desperate purpose under control?" +</P> + +<P> +It had only that day occurred to Iris that there might be some prospect +of an encouraging result, if she could obtain the assistance of Mrs. +Vimpany. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor's wife was well acquainted with Lord Harry's past life, when +he happened to be in Ireland; and she had met many of his countrymen +with whom he had associated. If one of those friends happened to be the +officious person who had written to him, it was at least possible that +Mrs. Vimpany's discreet interference might prevent his mischievous +correspondent from writing again. Lord Harry, waiting for more news, +would in this event wait in vain. He would not know where to go, or +what to do next—and, with such a nature as his, the end of his +patience and the end of his resolution were likely to come together. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh handed his pocket-book to Iris. Of the poor chances in her favour, +the last was to his mind the least hopeless of the two. +</P> + +<P> +"If you have discovered the name of your husband's correspondent," he +said, "write it down for me, and I will ask Mrs. Vimpany if she knows +him. I will make your excuses for not having written to her lately; +and, in any case, I answer for her being ready to help you." +</P> + +<P> +As Iris thanked him and wrote the name, the clock on the chimneypiece +struck the hour. +</P> + +<P> +She rose to say farewell. With a restless hand she half-lowered her +veil, and raised it again. "You won't mind my crying," she said +faintly, trying to smile through her tears. "This is the saddest +parting I have ever known. Dear, dear Hugh—good-bye!" +</P> + +<P> +Great is the law of Duty; but the elder law of Love claims its higher +right. Never, in all the years of their friendship, had they forgotten +themselves as they forgot themselves now. For the first time her lips +met his lips, in their farewell kiss. In a moment more, they remembered +the restraints which honour imposed on them; they were only friends +again. Silently she lowered her veil. Silently he took her arm and led +her down to the carriage. It was moving away from them at a slow pace, +towards the other end of the street. Instead of waiting for its return, +they followed and overtook it. +</P> + +<P> +"We shall meet again," he whispered. +</P> + +<P> +She answered sadly: "Don't forget me." +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy turned back. As he approached the hotel he noticed a tall man +crossing from the opposite side of the street. Not two minutes after +Iris was on her way home, her jealous husband and her old friend met at +the hotel door. +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry spoke first. "I have been dining out," he said, "and I came +here to have a word with you, Mr. Mountjoy, on my road home." +</P> + +<P> +Hugh answered with formal politeness: "Let me show your lordship the +way to my rooms." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it's needless to trouble you," Lord Harry declared. "I have so +little to say—do you mind walking on with me for a few minutes?" +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy silently complied. He was thinking of what might have happened +if Iris had delayed her departure—or if the movement of the carriage +had been towards, instead of away from the hotel. In either case it had +been a narrow escape for the wife, from a dramatic discovery by the +husband. +</P> + +<P> +"We Irishmen," Lord Harry resumed, "are not famous for always obeying +the laws; but it is in our natures to respect the law of hospitality. +When you were at the cottage yesterday I was inhospitable to my guest. +My rude behaviour has weighed on my mind since—and for that reason I +have come here to speak to you. It was ill-bred on my part to reproach +you with your visit, and to forbid you (oh, quite needlessly, I don't +doubt!) to call on me again. If I own that I have no desire to propose +a renewal of friendly intercourse between us, you will understand me, I +am sure; with my way of thinking, the less we see of each other for the +future, the better it may be. But, for what I said when my temper ran +away with me, I ask you to accept my excuses, and the sincere +expression of my regret." +</P> + +<P> +"Your excuses are accepted, my lord, as sincerely as you have offered +them," Mountjoy answered. "So far as I am concerned, the incident is +forgotten from this moment." +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry expressed his courteous acknowledgments. "Spoken as becomes +a gentleman," he said. "I thank you." +</P> + +<P> +There it ended. They saluted each other; they wished each other +good-night. "A mere formality!" Hugh thought, when they had parted. +</P> + +<P> +He had wronged the Irish lord in arriving at that conclusion. But time +was to pass before events helped him to discover his error. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap33"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE DECREE OF FATE +</H3> + +<P> +ON his arrival in London, Mountjoy went to the Nurses' Institute to +inquire for Mrs. Vimpany. +</P> + +<P> +She was again absent, in attendance on another patient. The address of +the house (known only to the matron) was, on this occasion, not to be +communicated to any friend who might make inquiries. A bad case of +scarlet fever had been placed under the nurse's care, and the danger of +contagion was too serious to be trifled with. +</P> + +<P> +The events which had led to Mrs. Vimpany's present employment had not +occurred in the customary course. +</P> + +<P> +A nurse who had recently joined the Institute had been first engaged to +undertake the case, at the express request of the suffering person—who +was said to be distantly related to the young woman. On the morning +when she was about to proceed to the scene of her labours, news had +reached her of the dangerous illness of her mother. Mrs. Vimpany, who +was free at the time, and who felt a friendly interest in her young +colleague, volunteered to take her place. Upon this, a strange request +had been addressed to the matron, on behalf of the sick man. He desired +to be "informed of it, if the new nurse was an Irishwoman." Hearing +that she was an Englishwoman, he at once accepted her services, being +himself (as an additional element of mystery in the matter) an +Irishman! +</P> + +<P> +The matron's English prejudices at once assumed that there had been +some discreditable event in the man's life, which might be made a +subject of scandalous exposure if he was attended by one of his own +countrypeople. She advised Mrs. Vimpany to have nothing to do with the +afflicted stranger. The nurse answered that she had promised to attend +on him—and she kept her promise. +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy left the Institute, after vainly attempting to obtain Mrs. +Vimpany's address. The one concession which the matron offered to make +was to direct his letter, and send it to the post, if he would be +content with that form of communication. +</P> + +<P> +On reflection, he decided to write the letter. +</P> + +<P> +Prompt employment of time might be of importance, if it was possible to +prevent any further communication with Lord Larry on the part of his +Irish correspondent. Using the name with which Iris had provided him, +Hugh wrote to inquire if it was familiar to Mrs. Vimpany, as the name +of a person with whom she had been, at any time, acquainted. In this +event, he assured her that an immediate consultation between them was +absolutely necessary in the interests of Iris. He added, in a +postscript, that he was in perfect health, and that he had no fear of +infection—and sent his letter to the matron to be forwarded. +</P> + +<P> +The reply reached him late in the evening. It was in the handwriting of +a stranger, and was to this effect: +</P> + +<P> +"Dear Mr. Mountjoy,—It is impossible that I can allow you to run the +risk of seeing me while I am in my present situation. So serious is the +danger of contagion in scarlet fever, that I dare not even write to you +with my own hand on note-paper which has been used in the sick room. +This is no mere fancy of mine; the doctor in attendance here knows of a +case in which a small piece of infected flannel communicated the +disease after an interval of no less than a year. I must trust to your +own good sense to see the necessity of waiting, until I can receive you +without any fear of consequences to yourself. In the meantime, I may +answer your inquiry relating to the name communicated in your letter. I +first knew the gentleman you mention some years since; we were +introduced to each other by Lord Harry; and I saw him afterwards on +more than one occasion." +</P> + +<P> +Mountjoy read this wise and considerate reply to his letter with +indignation. +</P> + +<P> +Here was the good fortune for which he had not dared to hope, declaring +itself in favour of Iris. Here (if Mrs. Vimpany could be persuaded to +write to her friend) was the opportunity offered of keeping the +hot-tempered Irish husband passive and harmless, by keeping him without +further news of the assassin of Arthur Mountjoy. Under these +encouraging circumstances the proposed consultation which might have +produced such excellent results had been rejected; thanks to a +contemptible fear of infection, excited by a story of a trumpery piece +of flannel! +</P> + +<P> +Hugh snatched up the unfortunate letter (cast away on the floor) to +tear it in pieces and throw it into the waste-paper basket—and checked +himself. His angry hand had seized on it with the blank leaf of the +note-paper uppermost. +</P> + +<P> +On that leaf he discovered two little lines of print, presenting, in +the customary form, the address of the house at which the letter had +been written! The writer, in taking the sheet of paper from the case, +must have accidentally turned it wrong side uppermost on the desk, and +had not cared to re-copy the letter, or had not discovered the mistake. +Restored to his best good-humour, Hugh resolved to surprise Mrs. +Vimpany by a visit, on the next day, which would set the theory of +contagion at defiance, and render valuable service to Iris at a crisis +in her life. +</P> + +<P> +Having time before him for reflection, in the course of the evening, he +was at no loss to discover a formidable obstacle in the way of his +design. +</P> + +<P> +Whether he gave his name or concealed his name, when he asked for Mrs. +Vimpany at the house-door, she would in either case refuse to see him. +The one accessible person whom he could consult in this difficulty was +his faithful old servant. +</P> + +<P> +That experienced man—formerly employed, at various times, in the army, +in the police, and in service at a public school—obtained leave to +make some preliminary investigations on the next morning. +</P> + +<P> +He achieved two important discoveries. In the first place, Mrs. Vimpany +was living in the house in which the letter to his master had been +written. In the second place, there was a page attached to the domestic +establishment (already under notice to leave his situation), who was +accessible to corruption by means of a bribe. The boy would be on the +watch for Mr. Mountjoy at two o'clock on that day, and would show him +where to find Mrs. Vimpany, in the room near the sick man, in which she +was accustomed to take her meals. +</P> + +<P> +Hugh acted on his instructions, and found the page waiting to admit him +secretly to the house. Leading the way upstairs, the boy pointed with +one hand to a door on the second floor, and held out the other hand to +receive his money. While he pocketed the bribe, and disappeared, +Mountjoy opened the door. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany was seated at a table waiting for her dinner. When Hugh +showed himself she started to her feet with a cry of alarm. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you mad?" she exclaimed. "How did you get here? What do you want +here? Don't come near me!" +</P> + +<P> +She attempted to pass Hugh on her way out of the room. He caught her by +the arm, led her back to her chair, and forced her to seat herself +again. "Iris is in trouble," he pleaded, "and you can help her." +</P> + +<P> +"The fever!" she cried, heedless of what he had said. "Keep back from +me—the fever!" +</P> + +<P> +For the second time she tried to get out of the room. For the second +time Hugh stopped her. +</P> + +<P> +"Fever or no fever," he persisted, "I have something to say to you. In +two minutes I shall have said it, and I will go." +</P> + +<P> +In the fewest possible words he described the situation of Iris with +her jealous husband. Mrs. Vimpany indignantly interrupted him. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you running this dreadful risk," she asked, "with nothing to say +to me that I don't know already? Her husband jealous of her? Of course +he is jealous of her! Leave me—or I will ring for the servant." +</P> + +<P> +"Ring, if you like," Hugh answered; "but hear this first. My letter to +you alluded to a consultation between us, which might be necessary in +the interests of Iris. Imagine her situation if you can! The assassin +of Arthur Mountjoy is reported to be in London; and Lord Harry has +heard of it." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany looked at him with horror in her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Gracious God!" she cried, "the man is here—under my care. Oh, I am +not in the conspiracy to hide the wretch! I knew no more of him than +you do when I offered to nurse him. The names that have escaped him, in +his delirium, have told me the truth." +</P> + +<P> +As she spoke, a second door in the room was opened. An old woman showed +herself for a moment, trembling with terror. "He's breaking out again, +nurse! Help me to hold him!" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany instantly followed the woman into the bed-room. "Wait and +listen," she said to Mountjoy—and left the door open. +</P> + +<P> +The quick, fierce, muttering tones of a man in delirium were now +fearfully audible. His maddened memory was travelling back over his own +horrible life. He put questions to himself; he answered himself: +</P> + +<P> +"Who drew the lot to kill the traitor? I did! I did! Who shot him on +the road, before he could get to the wood? I did! I did! Arthur +Mountjoy, traitor to Ireland. Set that on his tombstone, and disgrace +him for ever. Listen, boys—listen! There is a patriot among you. I am +the patriot—preserved by a merciful Providence. Ha, my Lord Harry, +search the earth and search the sea, the patriot is out of your reach! +Nurse! What's that the doctor said of me? The fever will kill him? +Well, what does that matter, as long as Lord Harry doesn't kill me? +Open the doors, and let everybody hear of it. I die the death of a +saint—the greatest of all saints—the saint who shot Arthur Mountjoy. +Oh, the heat, the heat, the burning raging heat!" The tortured creature +burst into a dreadful cry of rage and pain. It was more than Hugh's +resolution could support. He hurried out of the house. +</P> + +<HR WIDTH="60%" ALIGN="center"> + +<P> +Ten days passed. A letter, in a strange handwriting, reached Iris at +Passy. +</P> + +<P> +The first part of the letter was devoted to the Irish desperado, whom +Mrs. Vimpany had attended in his illness. +</P> + +<P> +When she only knew him as a suffering fellow-creature she had promised +to be his nurse. Did the discovery that he was an assassin justify +desertion, or even excuse neglect? No! the nursing art, like the +healing art, is an act of mercy—in itself too essentially noble to +inquire whether the misery that it relieves merits help. All that +experience, all that intelligence, all that care could offer, the nurse +gave to the man whose hand she would have shrunk from touching in +friendship, after she had saved his life. +</P> + +<P> +A time had come when the fever threatened to take Lord Harry's +vengeance out of his hands. The crisis of the disease declared itself. +With the shadow of death on him, the wretch lived through it—saved by +his strong constitution, and by the skilled and fearless woman who +attended on him. At the period of his convalescence, friends from +Ireland (accompanied by a medical man of their own choosing) presented +themselves at the house, and asked for him by the name under which he +passed—Carrigeen. With every possible care, he was removed; to what +destination had never been discovered. From that time, all trace of him +had been lost. +</P> + +<P> +Terrible news followed on the next page. +</P> + +<P> +The subtle power of infection had asserted itself against the poor +mortal who had defied it. Hugh Mountjoy, stricken by the man who had +murdered his brother, lay burning under the scarlet fire of the fever. +</P> + +<P> +But the nurse watched by him, night and day. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap34"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXIV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MY LORD'S MIND +</H3> + +<P> +HERE, my old-vagabond-Vimpany, is an interesting case for you—the cry +of a patient with a sick mind. +</P> + +<P> +Look over it, and prescribe for your wild Irish friend, if you can. +</P> + +<P> +You will perhaps remember that I have never thoroughly trusted you, in +all the years since we have known each other. At this later date in our +lives, when I ought to see more clearly than ever what an unfathomable +man you are, am I rash enough to be capable of taking you into my +confidence? +</P> + +<P> +I don't know what I am going to do; I feel like a man who has been +stunned. To be told that the murderer of Arthur Mountjoy had been seen +in London—to be prepared to trace him by his paltry assumed name of +Carrigeen—to wait vainly for the next discovery which might bring him +within reach of retribution at my hands—and then to be overwhelmed by +the news of his illness, his recovery, and his disappearance: these are +the blows which have stupefied me. Only think of it! He has escaped me +for the second time. Fever that kills thousands of harmless creatures +has spared the assassin. He may yet die in his bed, and be buried, with +the guiltless dead around him, in a quiet churchyard. I can't get over +it; I shall never get over it. +</P> + +<P> +Add to this, anxieties about my wife, and maddening letters from +creditors—and don't expect me to write reasonably. +</P> + +<P> +What I want to know is whether your art (or whatever you call it) can +get at my diseased mind, through my healthy body. You have more than +once told me that medicine can do this. The time has come for doing it. +I am in a bad way, and a bad end may follow. My only medical friend, +deliver me from myself. +</P> + +<P> +In any case, let me beg you to keep your temper while you read what +follows. +</P> + +<P> +I have to confess that the devil whose name is Jealousy has entered +into me, and is threatening the tranquillity of my married life. You +dislike Iris, I know—and she returns your hostile feeling towards her. +Try to do my wife justice, nevertheless, as I do. I don't believe my +distrust of her has any excuse—and yet, I am jealous. More +unreasonable still, I am as fond of her as I was in the first days of +the honeymoon. Is she as fond as ever of me? You were a married man +when I was a boy. Let me give you the means of forming an opinion by a +narrative of her conduct, under (what I admit to have been) very trying +circumstances. +</P> + +<P> +When the first information reached Iris of Hugh Mountjoy's dangerous +illness, we were at breakfast. It struck her dumb. She handed the +letter to me, and left the table. +</P> + +<P> +I hate a man who doesn't know what it is to want money; I hate a man +who keeps his temper; I hate a man who pretends to be my wife's friend, +and who is secretly in love with her all the time. What difference did +it make to me whether Hugh Mountjoy ended in living or dying? If I had +any interest in the matter, it ought by rights (seeing that I am +jealous of him) to be an interest in his death. Well! I declare +positively that the alarming news from London spoilt my breakfast. There +is something about that friend of my wife—that smug, prosperous, +well-behaved Englishman—which seems to plead for him (God knows how!) +when my mind is least inclined in his favour. While I was reading about +his illness, I found myself hoping that he would recover—and, I give +you my sacred word of honour, I hated him all the time. +</P> + +<P> +My Irish friend is mad—you will say. Your Irish friend, my dear +follow, does not dispute it. +</P> + +<P> +Let us get back to my wife. She showed herself again after a long +absence, having something (at last) to say to her husband. +</P> + +<P> +"I am innocently to blame," she began, "for the dreadful misfortune +that has fallen on Mr. Mountjoy. If I had not given him a message to +Mrs. Vimpany, he would never have insisted on seeing her, and would +never have caught the fever. It may help me to bear my misery of +self-reproach and suspense, if I am kept informed of his illness. There +is no fear of infection by my receiving letters. I am to write to a +friend of Mrs. Vimpany, who lives in another house, and who will answer +my inquiries. Do you object, dear Harry, to my getting news of Hugh +Mountjoy every day, while he is in danger?" +</P> + +<P> +I was perfectly willing that she should get that news, and she ought to +have known it. +</P> + +<P> +It seemed to me to be also a bad sign that she made her request with +dry eyes. She must have cried, when she first heard that he was likely +to sink under an attack of fever. Why were her tears kept hidden in her +own room? When she came back to me, her face was pale and hard and +tearless. Don't you think she might have forgotten my jealousy, when I +was so careful myself not to show it? My own belief is that she was +longing to go to London, and help your wife to nurse the poor man, and +catch the fever, and die with him if <I>he</I> died. +</P> + +<P> +Is this bitter? Perhaps it is. Tear it off, and light your pipe with +it. +</P> + +<P> +Well, the correspondence relating to the sick man continued every day; +and every day—oh, Vimpany, another concession to my jealousy!—she +handed the letters to me to read. I made excuses (we Irish are good at +that, if we are good at nothing else), and declined to read the medical +reports. One morning, when she opened the letter of that day, there +passed over her a change which is likely to remain in my memory as long +as I live. Never have I seen such an ecstasy of happiness in any +woman's face, as I saw when she read the lines which informed her that +the fever was mastered. Iris is sweet and delicate and +bright—essentially fascinating, in a word. But she was never a beautiful +woman, until she knew that Mountjoy's life was safe; and she will never +be a beautiful woman again, unless the time comes when my death leaves +her free to marry him. On her wedding-day, he will see the +transformation that I saw—and he will be dazzled as I was. +</P> + +<P> +She looked at me, as if she expected me to speak. +</P> + +<P> +"I am glad indeed," I said, "that he is out of danger." +</P> + +<P> +She ran to me—she kissed me; I wouldn't have believed it was in her to +give such kisses. "Now I have your sympathy," she said, "my happiness +is complete!" Do you think I was indebted for these kisses to myself or +to that other man? No, no—here is an unworthy doubt. I discard it. +Vile suspicion shall not wrong Iris this time. +</P> + +<P> +And yet—— +</P> + +<P> +Shall I go on, and write the rest of it? +</P> + +<P> +Poor, dear Arthur Mountjoy once told me of a foreign author, who was in +great doubt of the right answer to some tough question that troubled +him. He went into his garden and threw a stone at a tree. If he hit the +tree, the answer would be—Yes. If he missed the tree, the answer would +be—No. I am going into the garden to imitate the foreign author. You +shall hear how it ends. +</P> + +<P> +I have hit the tree. As a necessary consequence, I must go on and write +the rest of it. +</P> + +<P> +There is a growing estrangement between Iris and myself—and my +jealousy doesn't altogether account for it. Sometimes, it occurs to me +that we are thinking of what our future relations with Mountjoy are +likely to be, and are ashamed to confess it to each other. +Sometimes—and perhaps this second, and easiest, guess may be the right +one—I am apt to conclude that we are only anxious about money matters. +I am waiting for her to touch on the subject, and she is waiting for +me; and there we are at a deadlock. +</P> + +<P> +I wish I had some reason for going to some other place. I wish I was +lost among strangers. I should like to find myself in a state of +danger, meeting the risks that I used to run in my vagabond days. Now I +think of it, I might enjoy this last excitement by going back to +England, and giving the Invincibles a chance of shooting me as a +traitor to the cause. But my wife would object to that. +</P> + +<P> +Suppose we change the subject. +</P> + +<P> +You will be glad to hear that you knew something of law, as well as of +medicine. I sent instructions to my solicitor in London to raise a loan +on my life-insurance. What you said to me turns out to be right. I +can't raise a farthing, for three years to come, out of all the +thousands of pounds which I shall leave behind me when I die. +</P> + +<P> +Are my prospects from the newspaper likely to cheer me after such a +disappointment as this? The new journal, I have the pleasure of +informing you, is much admired. When I inquire for my profits, I hear +that the expenses are heavy, and I am told that I must wait for a rise +in our circulation. How long? Nobody knows. +</P> + +<P> +I shall keep these pages open for a few days more, on the chance of +something happening which may alter my present position for the better. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +My position has altered for the worse. +</P> + +<P> +I have been obliged to fill my empty purse, for a little while, by +means of a bit of stamped paper. And how shall I meet my liabilities +when the note falls due? Let time answer the question; for the present +the evil day is put off. In the meanwhile, if that literary speculation +of yours is answering no better than my newspaper, I can lend you a few +pounds to get on with. What do you say (on second thoughts) to coming +back to your old quarters at Passy, and giving me your valuable advice +by word of mouth instead of by letter? +</P> + +<P> +Come, and feel my pulse, and look at my tongue—and tell me how these +various anxieties of mine are going to end, before we are any of us a +year older. Shall I, like you, be separated from my wife—at her +request; oh, not at mine! Or shall I be locked up in prison? And what +will become of You? Do you take the hint, doctor? +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap35"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MY LADY'S MIND +</H3> + +<P> +"ENTREAT Lady Harry not to write to me. She will be tempted to do so, +when she hears that there is good hope of Mr. Mountjoy's recovery. But, +even from that loving and generous heart, I must not accept expressions +of gratitude which would only embarrass me. All that I have done, as a +nurse, and all that I may yet hope to do, is no more than an effort to +make amends for my past life. Iris has my heart's truest wishes for her +happiness. Until I can myself write to her without danger, let this be +enough." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +In those terms, dearest of women, your friend has sent your message to +me. My love respects as well as admires you; your wishes are commands +to me. At the same time, I may find some relief from the fears of the +future that oppress me, if I can confide them to friendly ears. May I +not harmlessly write to you, if I only write of my own poor self? +</P> + +<P> +Try, dear, to remember those pleasant days when you were staying with +us, in our honeymoon time, at Paris. +</P> + +<P> +You warned me, one evening when we were alone, to be on my guard +against any circumstances which might excite my husband's jealousy. +Since then, the trouble that you foresaw has fallen on me; mainly, I am +afraid, through my own want of self-control. It is so hard for a woman, +when she really loves a man, to understand a state of mind which can +make him doubt her. +</P> + +<P> +I have discovered that jealousy varies. Let me tell you what I mean. +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry was silent and sullen (ah, how well I knew what that meant!) +while the life of our poor Hugh was in jeopardy. When I read the good +news which told me that he was no longer in danger, I don't know +whether there was any change worth remarking in myself—but, there was +a change in my husband, delightful to see. His face showed such sweet +sympathy when he looked at me, he spoke so kindly and nicely of Hugh, +that I could only express my pleasure by kissing him. You will hardly +believe me, when I tell you that his hateful jealousy appeared again, +at that moment. He looked surprised, he looked suspicious—he looked, I +declare, as if he doubted whether I meant it with all my heart when I +kissed him! What incomprehensible creatures men are! We read in novels +of women who are able to manage their masters. I wish I knew how to +manage mine. +</P> + +<P> +We have been getting into debt. For some weeks past, this sad state of +things has been a burden on my mind. Day after day I have been +expecting him to speak of our situation, and have found him obstinately +silent. Is his mind entirely occupied with other things? Or is he +unwilling to speak of our anxieties because the subject humiliates him? +Yesterday, I could bear it no longer. +</P> + +<P> +"Our debts are increasing," I said. "Have you thought of any way of +paying them?" +</P> + +<P> +I had feared that my question might irritate him. To my relief, he +seemed to be diverted by it. +</P> + +<P> +"The payment of debts," he replied, "is a problem that I am too poor to +solve. Perhaps I got near to it the other day." +</P> + +<P> +I asked how. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said, "I found myself wishing I had some rich friends. +By-the-bye, how is <I>your</I> rich friend? What have you heard lately of +Mr. Mountjoy?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have heard that he is steadily advancing towards recovery." +</P> + +<P> +"Likely, I dare say, to return to France when he feels equal to it," my +husband remarked. "He is a good-natured creature. If he finds himself +in Paris again, I wonder whether he will pay us another visit?" +</P> + +<P> +He said this quite seriously. On my side, I was too much as astonished +to utter a word. My bewilderment seemed to amuse him. In his own +pleasant way he explained himself: +</P> + +<P> +"I ought to have told you, my dear, that I was in Mr. Mountjoy's +company the night before he returned to England. We had said some +disagreeable things to each other here in the cottage, while you were +away in your room. My tongue got the better of my judgment. In short, I +spoke rudely to our guest. Thinking over it afterwards, I felt that I +ought to make an apology. He received my sincere excuses with an +amiability of manner, and a grace of language, which raised him greatly +in my estimation." +</P> + +<P> +There you have Lord Harry's own words! Who would suppose that he had +ever been jealous of the man whom he spoke of in this way? +</P> + +<P> +I explain it to myself, partly by the charm in Hugh's look and manner, +which everybody feels; partly by the readiness with which my husband's +variable nature receives new impressions. I hope you agree with me. In +any case, pray let Hugh see what I have written to you in this place, +and ask him what he thinks of it.* +</P> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +* <I>Note by Mrs. Vimpany.</I>—I shall certainly not be foolish enough to +show what she has written to Mr. Mountjoy. Poor deluded Iris! Miserable +fatal marriage! +</P> + +<P> +Encouraged, as you will easily understand, by the delightful prospect +of a reconciliation between them, I was eager to take my first +opportunity of speaking freely of Hugh. Up to that time, it had been a +hard trial to keep to myself so much that was deeply interesting in my +thoughts and hopes. But my hours of disappointment were not at an end +yet. We were interrupted. +</P> + +<P> +A letter was brought to us—one of many, already received!—insisting +on immediate payment of a debt that had been too long unsettled. The +detestable subject of our poverty insisted on claiming attention when +there was a messenger outside, waiting for my poor Harry's last French +bank note. +</P> + +<P> +"What is to be done?" I said, when we were left by ourselves again. +</P> + +<P> +My husband's composure was something wonderful. He laughed and lit a +cigar. +</P> + +<P> +"We have got to the crisis," he said. "The question of money has driven +us into a corner at last. My darling, have you ever heard of such a +thing as a promissory note?" +</P> + +<P> +I was not quite so ignorant as he supposed me to be; I said I had heard +my father speak of promissory notes. +</P> + +<P> +This seemed to fail in convincing him. "Your father," he remarked, +"used to pay his notes when they fell due." +</P> + +<P> +I betrayed my ignorance, after all. "Doesn't everybody do the same?" I +asked. +</P> + +<P> +He burst out laughing. "We will send the maid to get a bit of stamped +paper," he said; "I'll write the message for her, this time." +</P> + +<P> +Those last words alluded to Fanny's ignorance of the French language, +which made it necessary to provide her with written instructions, when +she was sent on an errand. In our domestic affairs, I was able to do +this; but, in the present case, I only handed the message to her. When +she returned with a slip of stamped paper, Harry called to me to come +to the writing-table. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, my sweet," he said, "see how easily money is to be got with a +scratch of the pen." +</P> + +<P> +I looked, over his shoulder. In less than a minute it was done; and he +had produced ten thousand francs on paper—in English money (as he told +me), four hundred pounds. This seemed to be a large loan; I asked how +he proposed to pay it back. He kindly reminded me that he was a +newspaper proprietor, and, as such, possessed of the means of inspiring +confidence in persons with money to spare. They could afford, it seems, +to give him three months in which to arrange for repayment. In that +time, as he thought, the profits of the new journal might come pouring +in. He knew best, of course. +</P> + +<P> +We took the next train to Paris, and turned our bit of paper into notes +and gold. Never was there such a delightful companion as my husband, +when he has got money in his pocket. After so much sorrow and anxiety, +for weeks past, that memorable afternoon was like a glimpse of +Paradise. +</P> + +<P> +On the next morning, there was an end to my short-lived enjoyment of no +more than the latter half of a day. +</P> + +<P> +Watching her opportunity, Fanny Mere came to me while I was alone, +carrying a thick letter in her hand. She held it before me with the +address uppermost. +</P> + +<P> +"Please to look at that," she said. +</P> + +<P> +The letter was directed (in Harry's handwriting) to Mr. Vimpany, at a +publishing office in London. Fanny next turned the envelope the other +way. +</P> + +<P> +"Look at this side," she resumed. +</P> + +<P> +The envelope was specially protected by a seal; bearing a device of my +husband's own invention; that is to say, the initials of his name +(Harry Norland) surmounted by a star—his lucky star, as he paid me the +compliment of calling it, on the day when he married me. I was thinking +of that day now. Fanny saw me looking, with a sad heart, at the +impression on the wax. She completely misinterpreted the direction +taken by my thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me to do it, my lady," she proceeded; "and I'll open the letter." +</P> + +<P> +I looked at her. She showed no confusion. "I can seal it up again," she +coolly explained, "with a bit of fresh wax and my thimble. Perhaps Mr. +Vimpany won't be sober enough to notice it." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know, Fanny, that you are making a dishonourable proposal to +me?" I said. +</P> + +<P> +"I know there's nothing I can do to help you that I won't do," she +answered; "and you know why. I have made a dishonourable proposal—have +I? That comes quite naturally to a lost woman like me. Shall I tell you +what Honour means? It means sticking at nothing, in your service. +Please tell me to open the letter." +</P> + +<P> +"How did you come by the letter, Fanny?" +</P> + +<P> +"My master gave it to me to put in the post." +</P> + +<P> +"Then, post it." +</P> + +<P> +The strange creature, so full of contraries—so sensitive at one time, +so impenetrable at another—pointed again to the address. +</P> + +<P> +"When the master writes to that man," she went on—"a long letter (if +you will notice), and a sealed letter—your ladyship ought to see what +is inside it. I haven't a doubt myself that there's writing under this +seal which bodes trouble to you. The spare bedroom is empty. Do you +want to have the doctor for your visitor again? Don't tell me to post +the letter, till I've opened it first." +</P> + +<P> +"I do tell you to post the letter." +</P> + +<P> +Fanny submitted, so far. But she had a new form of persuasion to try, +before her reserves of resistance were exhausted. "If the doctor comes +back," she continued, "will your ladyship give me leave to go out, +whenever I ask for it?" +</P> + +<P> +This was surely presuming on my indulgence. "Are you not expecting a +little too much?" I suggested—not unkindly. +</P> + +<P> +"If you say that, my lady," she answered, "I shall be obliged to ask +you to suit yourself with another maid." +</P> + +<P> +There was a tone of dictation in this, which I found beyond endurance. +In my anger, I said: "Leave me whenever you like." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall leave you when I'm dead—not before," was the reply that I +received. "But if you won't let me have my liberty without going away +from you, for a time, I must go—for your sake." +</P> + +<P> +(For my sake! Pray observe that.) +</P> + +<P> +She went on: +</P> + +<P> +"Try to see it, my lady, as I do! If we have the doctor with us again, +I must be able to watch him." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because he is your enemy, as I believe." +</P> + +<P> +"How can he hurt me, Fanny?" +</P> + +<P> +"Through your husband, my lady, if he can do it in no other way. Mr. +Vimpany shall have a spy at his heels. Dishonourable! oh, dishonourable +again! Never mind. I don't pretend to know what that villain means to +do, if he and my lord get together again. But this I can tell you, if +it's in woman's wit to circumvent him, here I am with my mind made up. +With my mind, made up!" she repeated fiercely—and recovered on a +sudden her customary character as a quiet well-trained servant, devoted +to her duties. "I'll take my master's letter to the post now," she +said. "Is there anything your ladyship wants in the town?" +</P> + +<P> +What do you think of Fanny Mere? Ought I to have treated this last +offer of her services, as I treated her proposal to open the letter? I +was not able to do it. +</P> + +<P> +The truth is, I was so touched by her devotion to me, that I could not +prevail on myself to mortify her by a refusal. I believe there may be a +good reason for the distrust of the doctor which possesses her so +strongly; and I feel the importance of having this faithful and +determined woman for an ally. Let me hope that Mr. Vimpany's return (if +it is to take place) may be delayed until you can safely write, with +your own hand, such a letter of wise advice as I sadly need. +</P> + +<P> +In the meantime, give my love to Hugh, and say to this dear friend all +that I might have said for myself, if I had been near him. But take +care that his recovery is not retarded by anxiety for me. Pray keep him +in ignorance of the doubts and fears with which I am now looking at the +future. If I was not so fond of my husband, I should be easier in my +mind. This sounds contradictory, but I believe you will understand it. +For a while, my dear, good-bye. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap36"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXVI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE DOCTOR MEANS MISCHIEF +</H3> + +<P> +ON the day after Lord Harry's description of the state of his mind +reached London, a gentleman presented himself at the publishing office +of Messrs. Boldside Brothers, and asked for the senior partner, Mr. +Peter Boldside. When he sent in his card, it bore the name of "Mr. +Vimpany." +</P> + +<P> +"To what fortunate circumstance am I indebted, sir, for the honour of +your visit?" the senior partner inquired. His ingratiating manners, his +genial smile, his roundly resonant voice, were personal advantages of +which he made a merciless use. The literary customer who entered the +office, hesitating before the question of publishing a work at his own +expense, generally decided to pay the penalty when he encountered Mr. +Peter Boldside. +</P> + +<P> +"I want to inquire about the sale of my work," Mr. Vimpany replied. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, doctor, you have come to the wrong man. You must go to my +brother." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany protested. "You mentioned the terms when I first applied to +you," he said, "and you signed the agreement." +</P> + +<P> +"That is in <I>my</I> department," the senior partner gently explained. "And +I shall write the cheque when, as we both hope, your large profits +shall fall due. But our sales of works are in the department of my +brother, Mr. Paul Boldside." He rang a bell; a clerk appeared, and +received his instructions: "Mr. Paul. Good-morning, doctor." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Paul was, personally speaking, his brother repeated—without the +deep voice, and without the genial smile. Conducted to the office of +the junior partner, Mr. Vimpany found himself in the presence of a +stranger, occupied in turning over the pages of a newspaper. When his +name was announced, the publisher started, and handed his newspaper to +the doctor. +</P> + +<P> +"This is a coincidence," he said. "I was looking, sir, for your name in +the pages which I have just put into your hand. Surely the editor can't +have refused to publish your letter?" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany was sober, and therefore sad, and therefore (again) not to +be trifled with by a mystifying reception. "I don't understand you," he +answered gruffly. "What do you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"Is it possible that you have not seen last week's number of the +paper?" Mr. Paul asked. "And you a literary man!" He forthwith produced +the last week's number, and opened it at the right place. "Read that, +sir," he said, with something in his manner which looked like virtuous +indignation. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany found himself confronted by a letter addressed to the +editor. It was signed by an eminent physician, whose portrait had +appeared in the first serial part of the new work—accompanied by a +brief memoir of his life, which purported to be written by himself. Not +one line of the autobiography (this celebrated person declared) had +proceeded from his pen. Mr. Vimpany had impudently published an +imaginary memoir, full of false reports and scandalous inventions—and +this after he had been referred to a trustworthy source for the +necessary particulars. Stating these facts, the indignant physician +cautioned readers to beware of purchasing a work which, so far as he +was concerned, was nothing less than a fraud on the public. +</P> + +<P> +"If you can answer that letter, sir," Mr. Paul Boldside resumed, "the +better it will be, I can tell you, for the sale of your publication." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany made a reckless reply: "I want to know how the thing sells. +Never mind the letter." +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind the letter?" the junior partner repeated. "A positive +charge of fraud is advanced by a man at the head of his profession +against a work which <I>we</I> have published—and you say, Never mind the +letter." +</P> + +<P> +The rough customer of the Boldsides struck his fist on the table. +"Bother the letter! I insist on knowing what the sale is." +</P> + +<P> +Still preserving his dignity, Mr. Paul (like Mr. Peter) rang for the +clerk, and briefly gave an order. "Mr. Vimpany's account," he said—and +proceeded to admonish Mr. Vimpany himself. +</P> + +<P> +"You appear, sir, to have no defence of your conduct to offer. Our firm +has a reputation to preserve. When I have consulted with my brother, we +shall be under the disagreeable necessity—" +</P> + +<P> +Here (as he afterwards told his brother) the publisher was brutally +interrupted by the author: +</P> + +<P> +"If you will have it," said this rude man, "here it is in two words. +The doctor's portrait is the likeness of an ass. As he couldn't do it +himself, I wanted materials for writing his life. He referred me to the +year of his birth, the year of his marriage, the year of this, that, +and the other. Who cares about dates? The public likes to be tickled by +personal statements. Very well—I tickled the public. There you have it +in a nutshell." +</P> + +<P> +The clerk appeared at that auspicious moment, with the author's account +neatly exhibited under two sides: a Debtor side, which represented the +expenditure of Hugh Mountjoy's money; and a Creditor side, which +represented (so far) Mr. Vimpany's profits. Amount of these last: 3<I>l.</I> +14<I>s.</I> 10<I>d.</I> +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany tore up the account, threw the pieces in the face of Mr. +Paul, and expressed his sentiments in one opprobrious word: +"Swindlers!" +</P> + +<P> +The publisher said: "You shall hear of us, sir, through our lawyer." +</P> + +<P> +And the author answered: "Go to the devil!" +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Once out in the streets again, the first open door at which Mr. Vimpany +stopped was the door of a tavern. He ordered a glass of brandy and +water, and a cigar. +</P> + +<P> +It was then the hour of the afternoon, between the time of luncheon and +the time of dinner, when the business of a tavern is generally in a +state of suspense. The dining-room was empty when Mr. Vimpany entered +it: and the waiter's unoccupied attention was in want of an object. +Having nothing else to notice, he looked at the person who had just +come in. The deluded stranger was drinking fiery potato-brandy, and +smoking (at the foreign price) an English cigar. Would his taste tell +him the melancholy truth? No: it seemed to matter nothing to him what +he was drinking or what he was smoking. Now he looked angry, and now he +looked puzzled; and now he took a long letter from his pocket, and read +it in places, and marked the places with a pencil. "Up to some +mischief," was the waiter's interpretation of these signs. The stranger +ordered a second glass of grog, and drank it in gulps, and fell into +such deep thought that he let his cigar go out. Evidently, a man in +search of an idea. And, to all appearance, he found what he wanted on a +sudden. In a hurry he paid his reckoning, and left his small change and +his unfinished cigar on the table, and was off before the waiter could +say, "Thank you." +</P> + +<P> +The next place at which he stopped was a fine house in a spacious +square. A carriage was waiting at the door. The servant who opened the +door knew him. +</P> + +<P> +"Sir James is going out again, sir, in two minutes," the man said. Mr. +Vimpany answered: "I won't keep him two minutes." +</P> + +<P> +A bell rang from the room on the ground floor; and a gentleman came +out, as Mr. Vimpany was shown in. Sir James's stethoscope was still in +his hand; his latest medical fee lay on the table. "Some other day, +Vimpany," the great surgeon said; "I have no time to give you now." +</P> + +<P> +"Will you give me a minute?" the humble doctor asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Very well. What is it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am down in the world now, Sir James, as you know—and I am trying to +pick myself up again." +</P> + +<P> +"Very creditable, my good fellow. How can I help you? Come, come—out +with it. You want something?" +</P> + +<P> +"I want your great name to do me a great service. I am going to France. +A letter of introduction, from you, will open doors which might be +closed to an unknown man like myself." +</P> + +<P> +"What doors do you mean?" Sir James asked. +</P> + +<P> +"The doors of the hospitals in Paris." +</P> + +<P> +"Wait a minute, Vimpany. Have you any particular object in view?" +</P> + +<P> +"A professional object, of course," the ready doctor answered. "I have +got an idea for a new treatment of diseases of the lungs; and I want to +see if the French have made any recent discoveries in that direction." +</P> + +<P> +Sir James took up his pen—and hesitated. His ill-starred medical +colleague had been his fellow-student and his friend, in the days when +they were both young men. They had seen but little of each other since +they had gone their different ways—one of them, on the high road which +leads to success, the other down the byways which end in failure. The +famous surgeon felt a passing doubt of the use which his needy and +vagabond inferior might make of his name. For a moment his pen was held +suspended over the paper. But the man of great reputation was also a +man of great heart. Old associations pleaded with him, and won their +cause. His companion of former times left the house provided with a +letter of introduction to the chief surgeon at the Hotel Dieu, in +Paris. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany's next, and last, proceeding for that day, was to stop at a +telegraph-office, and to communicate economically with Lord Harry in +three words: +</P> + +<P> +"Expect me to-morrow." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap37"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXVII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE FIRST QUARREL +</H3> + +<P> +EARLY in the morning of the next day, Lord Harry received the doctor's +telegram. Iris not having risen at the time, he sent for Fanny Mere, +and ordered her to get the spare room ready for a guest. The maid's +busy suspicion tempted her to put a venturesome question. She asked if +the person expected was a lady or a gentleman. +</P> + +<P> +"What business is it of yours who the visitor is?" her master asked +sharply. Always easy and good-humoured with his inferiors in general, +Lord Harry had taken a dislike to his wife's maid, from the moment when +he had first seen her. His Irish feeling for beauty and brightness was +especially offended by the unhealthy pallor of the woman's complexion, +and the sullen self-suppression of her manner. All that his native +ingenuity had been able to do was to make her a means of paying a +compliment to his wife. "Your maid has one merit in my eyes," he said; +"she is a living proof of the sweetness of your temper." +</P> + +<P> +Iris joined her husband at the breakfast-table with an appearance of +disturbance in her face, seldom seen, during the dull days of her life +at Passy. "I hear of somebody coming to stay with us," she said. "Not +Mr. Vimpany again, I hope and trust?" +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry was careful to give his customary morning kiss, before he +replied. "Why shouldn't my faithful old friend come and see me again?" +he asked, with his winning smile. +</P> + +<P> +"Pray don't speak of that hateful man," she answered, "as your faithful +old friend! He is nothing of the kind. What did you tell me when he +took leave of us after his last visit, and I owned I was glad that he +had gone? You said: 'Faith, my dear, I'm as glad as you are.'" +</P> + +<P> +Her good-natured husband laughed at this little picture of himself. +"Ah, my darling, how many more times am I to make the same confession +to my pretty priest? Try to remember, without more telling, that it's +one of my misfortunes to be a man of many tempers. There are times when +I get tired to death of Mr. Vimpany; and there are times when the +cheery old devil exercises fascinations over me. I declare you're +spoiling the eyebrows that I admire by letting them twist themselves +into a frown! After the trouble I have taken to clear your mind of +prejudice against an unfortunate man, it's disheartening to find you so +hard on the poor fellow's faults and so blind to his virtues." +</P> + +<P> +The time had been when this remonstrance might have influenced his +wife's opinion. She passed it over without notice now. +</P> + +<P> +"Does he come here by your invitation?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"How else should he come here, my dear?" +</P> + +<P> +She looked at her husband with doubt too plainly visible in her eyes. +"I wonder what your motive is for sending for him," she said. +</P> + +<P> +He was just lifting his teacup to his lips—he put it down again when +he heard those words. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you ill this morning?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"Have I said anything that has offended you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly not." +</P> + +<P> +"Then I must tell you this, Iris; I don't approve of what you have just +said. It sounds, to my mind, unpleasantly like suspicion of me and +suspicion of my friend. I see your face confessing it, my lady, at this +moment." +</P> + +<P> +"You are half right, Harry, and no more. What you see in my face is +suspicion of your friend." +</P> + +<P> +"Founded on what, if you please?" +</P> + +<P> +"Founded on what I have seen of him, and on what I know of him. When +you tried to alter my opinion of Mr. Vimpany some time since, I did my +best to make my view your view. I deceived myself, for your sake; I put +the best construction on what he said and did, when he was staying +here. It was well meant, but it was of no use. In a thousand different +ways, while he was doing his best to win my favour, his true self was +telling tales of him under the fair surface. Mr. Vimpany is a bad man. +He is the very worst friend you could have about you at any time—and +especially at a time when your patience is tried by needy +circumstances." +</P> + +<P> +"One word, Iris. The more eloquent you are, the more I admire you. +Only, don't mention my needy circumstances again." +</P> + +<P> +She passed over the interruption as she had already passed over the +remonstrance, without taking notice of it. +</P> + +<P> +"Dearest, you are always good to me," she continued gently. "Am I wrong +in thinking that love gives me some little influence over you still? +Women are vain—are they not?—and I am no better than the rest of +them. Flatter your wife's vanity, Harry, by attaching some importance +to her opinion. Is there time enough, yet, to telegraph to Mr. Vimpany? +Quite out of the question, is it? Well, then, if he must come here, +do—pray, pray do consider Me. Don't let him stay in the house! I'll +find a good excuse, and take a bedroom for him in the neighbourhood. +Anywhere else, so long as he is not here. He turns me cold when I think +of him, sleeping under the same roof with ourselves. Not with us! oh, +Harry, not with us!" +</P> + +<P> +Her eyes eagerly searched her husband's face; she looked there for +indulgence, she looked for conviction. No! he was still admiring her. +</P> + +<P> +"On my word of honour," he burst out, "you fascinate me. What an +imagination you have got! One of these days, Iris, I shall be prouder +of you than ever; I shall find you a famous literary character. I don't +mean writing a novel; women who can't even hem a handkerchief can write +a novel. It's poetry I'm thinking of. Irish melodies by Lady Harry that +beat Tom Moore. What a gift! And there are fortunes made, as I have +heard, by people who spoil fair white paper to some purpose. I wish I +was one of them." +</P> + +<P> +"Have you no more to say to me?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"What more should there be? You wouldn't have me take you seriously, in +what you have just said of Vimpany?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why not?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, come, come, my darling! Just consider. With a bedroom empty and +waiting, upstairs, is my old Vimpany to be sent to quarters for the +night among strangers? I wouldn't speak harshly to you, Iris, for the +whole world; and I don't deny that the convivial doctor may be +sometimes a little too fond of his drop of grog. You will tell me, +maybe, that he hasn't got on nicely with his wife; and I grant it. +There are not many people who set such a pretty example of matrimony as +we do. Poor humanity—there's all that's to be said about it. But when +you tell me that Vimpany is a bad man, and the worst friend I could +possibly have, and so forth—what better can I do than set it down to +your imagination? I've a pretty fancy, myself; and I think I see my +angel inventing poetical characters, up among congenial clouds. What's +the matter? Surely, you haven't done breakfast yet?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you going to leave me?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am going to my room." +</P> + +<P> +"You're in a mighty hurry to get away. I never meant to vex you, Iris. +Ah, well, if you must leave the table, I'll have the honour of opening +the door for you, at any rate. I wonder what you're going to do?" +</P> + +<P> +"To cultivate my imagination," she answered, with the first outbreak of +bitterness that had escaped her yet. +</P> + +<P> +His face hardened. "There seems to be something like bearing malice in +this," he said. "Are you treating me, for the first time, to an +exhibition of enmity? What am I to call it, if it's not that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Call it disappointment," she suggested quietly, and left him. +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry went back to his breakfast. His jealousy was up in arms +again. "She's comparing me with her absent friend," he said to himself, +"and wishing she had married the amiable Mountjoy instead of me." +</P> + +<P> +So the first quarrel ended—and Mr. Vimpany had been the cause of it. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap38"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXVIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ICI ON PARLE FRANCAIS +</H3> + +<P> +THE doctor arrived in good time for dinner, and shook hands with the +Irish lord in excellent spirits. +</P> + +<P> +He looked round the room, and asked where my lady was. Lord Harry's +reply suggested the presence of a cloud on the domestic horizon. He had +been taking a long ride, and had only returned a few minutes since; +Iris would (as he supposed) join them immediately. +</P> + +<P> +The maid put the soup on the table, and delivered a message. Her +mistress was suffering from a headache, and was not well enough to dine +with the gentlemen. +</P> + +<P> +As an old married man, Mr. Vimpany knew what this meant; he begged +leave to send a comforting message to the suffering lady of the house. +Would Fanny be good enough to say that he had made inquiries on the +subject of Mr. Mountjoy's health, before he left London. The report was +still favourable; there was nothing to complain of but the +after-weakness which had followed the fever. On that account only, the +attendance of the nurse was still a matter of necessity. "With my +respects to Lady Harry," he called after Fanny, as she went out in +dogged silence. +</P> + +<P> +"I have begun by making myself agreeable to your wife," the doctor +remarked with a self-approving grin. "Perhaps she will dine with us +to-morrow. Pass the sherry." +</P> + +<P> +The remembrance of what had happened at the breakfast-table, that +morning, seemed to be dwelling disagreeably on Lord Harry's mind. He +said but little—and that little related to the subject on which he had +already written, at full length, to his medical friend. +</P> + +<P> +In an interval, when the service of the table required the attendance +of Fanny in the kitchen, Mr. Vimpany took the opportunity of saying a +few cheering words. He had come (he remarked) prepared with the right +sort of remedy for an ailing state of mind, and he would explain +himself at a fitter opportunity. Lord Harry impatiently asked why the +explanation was deferred. If the presence of the maid was the obstacle +which caused delay, it would be easy to tell her that she was not +wanted to wait. +</P> + +<P> +The wary doctor positively forbade this. +</P> + +<P> +He had observed Fanny, during his previous visit, and had discovered +that she seemed to distrust him. The woman was sly and suspicious. +Since they had sat down to dinner, it was easy to see that she was +lingering in the room to listen to the conversation, on one pretence or +another. If she was told not to wait, there could be no doubt of her +next proceeding: she would listen outside the door. "Take my word for +it," the doctor concluded, "there are all the materials for a spy in +Fanny Mere." +</P> + +<P> +But Lord Harry was obstinate. Chafing under the sense of his helpless +pecuniary position, he was determined to hear, at once, what remedy for +it Vimpany had discovered. +</P> + +<P> +"We can set that woman's curiosity at defiance," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"How?" +</P> + +<P> +"When you were learning your profession, you lived in Paris for some +years, didn't you? +</P> + +<P> +"All right!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, then, you can't have entirely forgotten your French?" +</P> + +<P> +The doctor at once understood what this meant, and answered +significantly by a wink. He had found an opportunity (he said) of +testing his memory, not very long since. Time had undoubtedly deprived +him of his early mastery over the French language; but he could still +(allowing for a few mistakes) make a shift to understand it and speak +it. There was one thing, however, that he wanted to know first. Could +they be sure that my lady's maid had not picked up French enough to use +her ears to some purpose? Lord Harry easily disposed of this doubt. So +entirely ignorant was the maid of the language of the place in which +she was living, that she was not able to ask the tradespeople for the +simplest article of household use, unless it was written for her in +French before she was sent on an errand. +</P> + +<P> +This was conclusive. When Fanny returned to the dining-room, she found +a surprise waiting for her. The two gentlemen had taken leave of their +nationality, and were talking the language of foreigners. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +An hour later, when the dinner-table had been cleared, the maid's +domestic duties took her to Lady Harry's room to make tea. She noticed +the sad careworn look on her mistress's face, and spoke of it at once +in her own downright way. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought it was only an excuse," she said, "when you gave me that +message to the gentlemen, at dinner-time. Are you really ill, my lady?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am a little out of spirits," Iris replied. +</P> + +<P> +Fanny made the tea. "I can understand that," she said to herself, as +she moved away to leave the room; "I'm out of spirits myself." +</P> + +<P> +Iris called her back: "I heard you say just now, Fanny, that you were +out of spirits yourself. If you were speaking of some troubles of your +own, I am sorry for you, and I won't say any more. But if you know what +my anxieties are, and share them—" +</P> + +<P> +"Mine is the biggest share of the two," Fanny broke out abruptly. "It +goes against the grain with me to distress you, my lady; but we are +beginning badly, and you ought to know it. The doctor has beaten me +already." +</P> + +<P> +"Beaten you already?" Iris repeated. "Tell me plainly what you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"Here it is, if you please, as plainly as words can say it. Mr. Vimpany +has something—something wicked, of course—to say to my master; and he +won't let it pass his lips here, in the cottage." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because he suspects me of listening at the door, and looking through +the keyhole. I don't know, my lady, that he doesn't even suspect You. +'I've learnt something in the course of my life,' he says to my master; +'and it's a rule with me to be careful of what I talk about indoors, +when there are women in the house. What are you going to do +to-morrow?' he says. My lord told him there was to be a meeting at the +newspaper office. The doctor says: 'I'll go to Paris with you. The +newspaper office isn't far from the Luxembourg Gardens. When you have +done your business, you will find me waiting at the gate. What I have +to tell you, you shall hear out of doors in the Gardens—and in an open +part of them, too, where there are no lurking-places among the trees.' +My master seemed to get angry at being put off in this way. 'What is it +you have got to tell me?' he says. 'Is it anything like the proposal +you made, when you were on your last visit here?' The doctor laughed. +'To-morrow won't be long in coming,' he says. 'Patience, my +lord—patience.' There was no getting him to say a word more. Now, what +am I to do? How am I to get a chance of listening to him, out in an +open garden, without being seen? There's what I mean when I say he has +beaten me. It's you, my lady—it's you who will suffer in the end." +</P> + +<P> +"You don't <I>know</I> that, Fanny." +</P> + +<P> +"No, my lady—but I'm certain of it. And here I am, as helpless as +yourself! My temper has been quiet, since my misfortune; it would be +quiet still, but for this." The one animating motive, the one +exasperating influence, in that sad and secret life was still the +mistress's welfare—still the safety of the generous woman who had +befriended and forgiven her. She turned aside from the table, to hide +her ghastly face. +</P> + +<P> +"Pray try to control yourself." As Iris spoke, she pointed kindly to a +chair. "There is something that I want to say when you are composed +again. I won't hurry you; I won't look at you. Sit down, Fanny." +</P> + +<P> +She appeared to shrink from being seated in her mistress's presence. +"Please to let me go to the window," she said; "the air will help me." +</P> + +<P> +To the window she went, and struggled with the passionate self so +steadily kept under at other times; so obstinately conquered now. "What +did you wish to say to me?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"You have surprised—you have perplexed me," Iris said. "I am at a loss +to understand how you discovered what seems to have passed between your +master and Mr. Vimpany. You don't surely mean to tell me that they +talked of their private affairs while you were waiting at table?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't tell lies, my lady," Fanny declared impulsively. "They talked +of nothing else all through the dinner." +</P> + +<P> +"Before <I>you!"</I> Iris exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +There was a pause. Fear and shame confessed themselves furtively on the +maid's colourless face. Silently, swiftly, she turned to the door. Had +a slip of the tongue hurried her into the betrayal of something which +it was her interest to conceal? "Don't be alarmed," Iris said +compassionately; "I have no wish to intrude on your secrets." +</P> + +<P> +With her hand on the door, Fanny Mere closed it again, and came back. +</P> + +<P> +"I am not so ungrateful," she said, "as to have any secrets from You. +It's hard to confess what may lower me in your good opinion, but it +must be done. I have deceived your ladyship—and I am ashamed of it. I +have deceived the doctor—and I glory in it. My master and Mr. Vimpany +thought they were safe in speaking French, while I was waiting on them. +I know French as well as they do." +</P> + +<P> +Iris could hardly believe what she heard. "Do you really mean what you +say?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"There's that much good in me," Fanny replied; "I always mean what I +say." +</P> + +<P> +"Why did you deceive me? Why have you been acting the part of an +ignorant woman?" +</P> + +<P> +"The deceit has been useful in your service," the obstinate maid +declared. "Perhaps it may be useful again." +</P> + +<P> +"Was that what you were thinking of," Iris said, "when you allowed me +to translate English into French for you, and never told me the truth?" +</P> + +<P> +"At any rate, I will tell you the truth, now. No: I was not thinking of +you, when you wrote my errands for me in French—I was thinking again +of some advice that was once given to me." +</P> + +<P> +"Was it advice given by a friend?" +</P> + +<P> +"Given by a man, my lady, who was the worst enemy I have ever had." +</P> + +<P> +Her considerate mistress understood the allusion, and forbade her to +distress herself by saying more. But Fanny felt that atonement, as well +as explanation, was due to her benefactress. Slowly, painfully she +described the person to whom she had referred. He was a Frenchman, who +had been her music-master during the brief period at which she had +attended a school: he had promised her marriage; he had persuaded her +to elope with him. The little money that they had to live on was earned +by her needle, and by his wages as accompanist at a music-hall. While +she was still able to attract him, and to hope for the performance of +his promise, he amused himself by teaching her his own language. When +he deserted her, his letter of farewell contained, among other things +the advice to which she had alluded. +</P> + +<P> +"In your station of life," this man had written, "knowledge of French +is still a rare accomplishment. Keep your knowledge to yourself. +English people of rank have a way of talking French to each other, when +they don't wish to be understood by their inferiors. In the course of +your career, you may surprise secrets which will prove to be a little +fortune, if you play your cards properly. Anyhow, it is the only +fortune I have to leave to you." Such had been the villain's parting +gift to the woman whom he had betrayed. +</P> + +<P> +She had hated him too bitterly to be depraved by his advice. +</P> + +<P> +On the contrary, when the kindness of a friend (now no longer in +England) had helped her to obtain her first employment as a domestic +servant, she had thought it might be to her interest to mention that +she could read, write, and speak French. The result proved to be not +only a disappointment, but a warning to her for the future. Such an +accomplishment as a knowledge of a foreign language possessed by an +Englishwoman, in her humble rank of life, was considered by her +mistress to justify suspicion. Questions were asked, which it was +impossible for her to answer truthfully. Small scandal drew its own +conclusions—her life with the other servants became unendurable—she +left her situation. +</P> + +<P> +From that time, until the happy day when she met with Iris, concealment +of her knowledge of French became a proceeding forced on her by her own +poor interests. Her present mistress would undoubtedly have been taken +into her confidence, if the opportunity had offered itself. But Iris +had never encouraged her to speak of the one darkest scene in her life; +and for that reason, she had kept her own counsel until the date of her +mistress's marriage. Distrusting the husband, and the husband's +confidential friend—for were they not both men?—she had thought of +the vile Frenchman's advice, and had resolved to give it a trial; not +with the degrading motive which he had suggested, but with the vague +presentiment of making a discovery of wickedness, threatening mischief +under a French disguise, which might be of service to her benefactress +at some future time. +</P> + +<P> +"And I may still turn it to your advantage, my lady," Fanny ventured to +add, "if you will consent to say nothing to anybody of your having a +servant who has learnt French." +</P> + +<P> +Iris looked at her coldly and gravely. "Must I remind you," she said, +"that you are asking my help in practicing a deception on my husband?" +</P> + +<P> +"I shall be sent away," Fanny answered, "if you tell my master what I +have told you." +</P> + +<P> +This was indisputably true. Iris hesitated. In her present situation, +the maid was the one friend on whom she could rely. Before her +marriage, she would have recoiled from availing herself, under any +circumstances, of such services as Fanny's reckless gratitude had +offered to her. But the moral atmosphere in which she was living had +begun, as Mrs. Vimpany had foreseen, to exert its baneful influence. +The mistress descended to bargaining with the servant. +</P> + +<P> +"Deceive the doctor," she said, "and I well remember that it may be for +my good." She stopped, and considered for a moment. Her noble nature +rallied its forces, and prompted her next words: "But respect your +master, if you wish me to keep your secret. I forbid you to listen to +what my lord may say, when he speaks with Mr. Vimpany to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +"I have already told your ladyship that I shall have no chance of +listening to what they say to each other, out of doors," Fanny +rejoined. "But I can watch the doctor at any rate. We don't know what +he may not do when he is left by himself, while my master is at the +meeting. I want to try if I can follow that rogue through the streets, +without his finding me out. Please to send me on an errand to Paris +to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +"You will be running a terrible risk," her mistress reminded her, "if +Mr. Vimpany discovers you." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll take my chance of that," was the reckless reply. +</P> + +<P> +Iris consented. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap39"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXXIX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE MYSTERY OF THE HOSPITAL +</H3> + +<P> +ON the next morning Lord Harry left the cottage, accompanied by the +doctor. +</P> + +<P> +After a long absence, he returned alone. His wife's worst +apprehensions, roused by what Fanny had told her, were more than +justified, by the change which she now perceived in him. His eyes were +bloodshot, his face was haggard, his movements were feeble and slow. He +looked like a man exhausted by some internal conflict, which had +vibrated between the extremes of anger and alarm. "I'm tired to death," +he said; "get me a glass of wine." +</P> + +<P> +She waited on him with eager obedience, and watched anxiously for the +reviving effect of the stimulant. +</P> + +<P> +The little irritabilities which degrade humanity only prolong their +mischievous existence, while the surface of life stagnates in calm. +Their annihilation follows when strong emotion stirs in the depths, and +raises the storm. The estrangement of the day before passed as +completely from the minds of the husband and wife—both strongly +agitated—as if it had never existed. All-mastering fear was busy at +their hearts; fear, in the woman, of the unknown temptation which had +tried the man; fear, in the man, of the tell-tale disturbance in him, +which might excite the woman's suspicion. Without venturing to look at +him, Iris said: "I am afraid you have heard bad news?" Without +venturing to look at her, Lord Harry answered: "Yes, at the newspaper +office." She knew that he was deceiving her; and he felt that she knew +it. For awhile, they were both silent. +</P> + +<P> +From time to time, she anxiously stole a look at him. +</P> + +<P> +His mind remained absorbed in thought. There they were, in the same +room—seated near each other; united by the most intimate of human +relationships—and yet how far, how cruelly far, apart! The slowest of +all laggard minutes, the minutes which are reckoned by suspense, +followed each other tardily and more tardily, before there appeared the +first sign of a change. He lifted his drooping head. Sadly, longingly, +he looked at her. The unerring instinct of true love encouraged his +wife to speak to him. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish I could relieve your anxieties," she said simply. "Is there +nothing I can do to help you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Come here, Iris." +</P> + +<P> +She rose and approached him. In the past days of the honeymoon and its +sweet familiarities, he had sometimes taken her on his knee. He took +her on his knee now, and put his arm round her. "Kiss me," he said. +</P> + +<P> +With all her heart she kissed him. He sighed heavily; his eyes rested +on her with a trustful appealing look which she had never observed in +them before. +</P> + +<P> +"Why do you hesitate to confide in me?" she asked. "Dear Harry, do you +think I don't see that something troubles you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," he said, "there is something that I regret." +</P> + +<P> +"What is it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Iris," he answered, "I am sorry I asked Vimpany to come back to us." +</P> + +<P> +At that unexpected confession, a bright flush of joy and pride +overspread his wife's face. Again, the unerring instinct of love guided +her to discovery of the truth. The opinion of his wicked friend must +have been accidentally justified, at the secret interview of that day, +by the friend himself! In tempting her husband, Vimpany had said +something which must have shocked and offended him. The result, as she +could hardly doubt, had been the restoration of her domestic influence +to its helpful freedom of control—whether for the time only it was not +in her nature, at that moment of happiness, to inquire. "After what you +have just told me," she ventured to say, "I may own that I am glad to +see you come home, alone." +</P> + +<P> +In that indirect manner, she confessed the hope that friendly +intercourse between the two men had come to an end. His reply +disappointed her. +</P> + +<P> +"Vimpany only remains in Paris," he said, "to present a letter of +introduction. He will follow me home." +</P> + +<P> +"Soon?" she asked, piteously. +</P> + +<P> +"In time for dinner, I suppose." She was still sitting on his knee. His +arm pressed her gently when he said his next words, "I hope you will +dine with us to-day, Iris?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—if you wish it." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish it very much. Something in me recoils from being alone with +Vimpany. Besides, a dinner at home without you is no dinner at all." +</P> + +<P> +She thanked him for that little compliment by a look. At the same time, +her grateful sense of her husband's kindness was embittered by the +prospect of the doctor's return. "Is he likely to dine with us often, +now?" she was bold enough to say. +</P> + +<P> +"I hope not." +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps he was conscious that he might have made a more positive reply. +He certainly took refuge in another subject—more agreeable to himself. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, you have expressed the wish to relieve my anxieties," he +said; "and you can help me, I think, in that way. I have a letter to +write—of some importance, Iris, to your interests as well as to +mine—which must go to Ireland by to-day's post. You shall read it, and +say if you approve of what I have done. Don't let me be disturbed. This +letter, I can tell you, will make a hard demand on my poor brains—I +must go and write in my own room." +</P> + +<P> +Left alone with the thoughts that now crowded on her mind, Iris found +her attention claimed once more by passing events. Fanny Mere arrived, +to report herself on her return from Paris. +</P> + +<P> +She had so managed her departure from Passy as to precede Lord Harry +and Mr. Vimpany, and to watch for their arrival in Paris by a later +train. They had driven from the railway to the newspaper office—-with +the maid in attendance on them in another cab. When they separated, the +doctor proceeded on foot to the Luxembourg Gardens. Wearing a plain +black dress, and protected from close observation by her veil, Fanny +followed him, cautiously keeping at a sufficient distance, now on one +side of the street and now on the other. When my lord joined his +friend, she just held them in view, and no more, as they walked up and +down in the barest and loneliest part of the Gardens that they could +find. Their talk having come to an end, they parted. Her master was the +first who came out into the street; walking at a great rate, and +looking most desperately upset. Mr. Vimpany next appeared, sauntering +along with his hands in his pockets, grinning as if his own villainous +thoughts were thoroughly amusing him. Fanny was now more careful than +ever not to lose sight of the doctor. The course which he pursued led +them to the famous hospital called the Hotel Dieu. +</P> + +<P> +At the entrance she saw him take a letter out of his pocket, and give +it to the porter. Soon afterwards, a person appeared who greeted him +politely, and conducted him into the building. For more than an hour, +Fanny waited to see Mr. Vimpany come out again, and waited in vain. +What could he possibly want in a French hospital? And why had he +remained in that foreign institution for so long a time? Baffled by +these mysteries, and weary after much walking, Fanny made the best of +her way home, and consulted her mistress. +</P> + +<P> +Even if Iris had been capable of enlightening her, the opportunity was +wanting. Lord Harry entered the room, with the letter which he had just +written, open in his hand, As a matter of course, the maid retired. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap40"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XL +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DIRE NECESSITY +</H3> + +<P> +THE Irish lord had a word to say to his wife, before he submitted to +her the letter which he had just written. +</P> + +<P> +He had been summoned to a meeting of proprietors at the office of the +newspaper, convened to settle the terms of a new subscription rendered +necessary by unforeseen expenses incurred in the interests of the +speculation. The vote that followed, after careful preliminary +consultation, authorised a claim on the purses of subscribing +proprietors, which sadly reduced the sum obtained by Lord Harry's +promissory note. Nor was this inconvenience the only trial of endurance +to which the Irish lord was compelled to submit. The hope which he had +entertained of assistance from the profits of the new journal, when +repayment of the loan that he had raised became due, was now plainly +revealed as a delusion. Ruin stared him in the face, unless he could +command the means of waiting for the pecuniary success of the +newspaper, during an interval variously estimated at six months, or +even at a year to come. +</P> + +<P> +"Our case is desperate enough," he said, "to call for a desperate +remedy. Keep up your spirits, Iris—I have written to my brother." +</P> + +<P> +Iris looked at him in dismay. +</P> + +<P> +"Surely," she said, "you once told me you had written to your brother, +and he answered you in the cruellest manner through his lawyers." +</P> + +<P> +"Quite true, my dear. But, this time, there is one circumstance in our +favour—my brother is going to be married. The lady is said to be an +heiress; a charming creature, admired and beloved wherever she goes. +There must surely be something to soften the hardest heart in that +happy prospect. Read what I have written, and tell me what you think of +it." +</P> + +<P> +The opinion of the devoted wife encouraged the desperate husband: the +letter was dispatched by the post of that day. +</P> + +<P> +If boisterous good spirits can make a man agreeable at the +dinner-table, then indeed Mr. Vimpany, on his return to the cottage, +played the part of a welcome guest. He was inexhaustible in gallant +attentions to his friend's wife; he told his most amusing stories in +his happiest way; he gaily drank his host's fine white Burgundy, and +praised with thorough knowledge of the subject the succulent French +dishes; he tried Lord Harry with talk on politics, talk on sport, and +(wonderful to relate in these days) talk on literature. The preoccupied +Irishman was equally inaccessible on all three subjects. When the +dessert was placed on the table—still bent on making himself agreeable +to Lady Harry—Mr. Vimpany led the conversation to the subject of +floriculture. In the interests of her ladyship's pretty little garden, +he advocated a complete change in the system of cultivation, and +justified his revolutionary views by misquoting the published work of a +great authority on gardening with such polite obstinacy that Iris +(eager to confute him) went away to fetch the book. The moment he had +entrapped her into leaving the room, the doctor turned to Lord Harry +with a sudden change to the imperative mood in look and manner. +</P> + +<P> +"What have you been about," he asked, "since we had that talk in the +Gardens to-day? Have you looked at your empty purse, and are you wise +enough to take my way of filling it?" +</P> + +<P> +"As long as there's the ghost of a chance left to me," Lord Harry +replied, "I'll take any way of filling my purse but yours." +</P> + +<P> +"Does that mean you have found a way?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do me a favour, Vimpany. Defer all questions till the end of the +week." +</P> + +<P> +"And then I shall have your answer?" +</P> + +<P> +"Without fail, I promise it. Hush!" +</P> + +<P> +Iris returned to the dining-room with her book; and polite Mr. Vimpany +owned in the readiest manner that he had been mistaken. +</P> + +<P> +The remaining days of the week followed each other wearily. During the +interval, Lord Harry's friend carefully preserved the character of a +model guest—he gave as little trouble as possible. Every morning after +breakfast the doctor went away by the train. Every morning (with +similar regularity) he was followed by the resolute Fanny Mere. +Pursuing his way through widely different quarters of Paris, he +invariably stopped at a public building, invariably presented a letter +at the door, and was invariably asked to walk in. Inquiries, patiently +persisted in by the English maid, led in each case to the same result. +The different public buildings were devoted to the same benevolent +purpose. Like the Hotel Dieu, they were all hospitals; and Mr. +Vimpany's object in visiting them remained as profound a mystery as +ever. +</P> + +<P> +Early on the last morning of the week the answer from Lord Harry's +brother arrived. Hearing of it, Iris ran eagerly into her husband's +room. The letter was already scattered in fragments on the floor. What +the tone of the Earl's inhuman answer had been in the past time, that +it was again now. +</P> + +<P> +Iris put her arms round her husband's neck. "Oh, my poor love, what is +to be done?" +</P> + +<P> +He answered in one reckless word: "Nothing!" +</P> + +<P> +"Is there nobody else who can help us?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, well, darling, there's perhaps one other person still left," +</P> + +<P> +"Who is the person?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who should it be but your own dear self?" +</P> + +<P> +She looked at him in undisguised bewilderment: "Only tell me, Harry, +what I can do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Write to Mountjoy, and ask him to lend me the money." +</P> + +<P> +He said it. In those shameless words, he said it. She, who had +sacrificed Mountjoy to the man whom she had married, was now asked by +that man to use Mountjoy's devotion to her, as a means of paying his +debts! Iris drew back from him with a cry of disgust. +</P> + +<P> +"You refuse?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you insult me by doubting it?" she answered. +</P> + +<P> +He rang the bell furiously, and dashed out of the room. She heard him, +on the stairs, ask where Mr. Vimpany was. The servant replied: "In the +garden, my lord." +</P> + +<P> +Smoking a cigar luxuriously in the fine morning air, the doctor saw his +excitable Irish friend hastening out to meet him. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't hurry," he said, in full possession of his impudent good-humour; +"and don't lose your temper. Will you take my way out of your +difficulties, or will you not? Which is it—Yes or No?" +</P> + +<P> +"You infernal scoundrel—Yes!" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear lord, I congratulate you." +</P> + +<P> +"On what, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +"On being as great a scoundrel as I am." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap41"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XLI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE MAN IS FOUND. +</H3> + +<P> +THE unworthy scheme, by means of which Lord Harry had proposed to +extricate himself from his pecuniary responsibilities, had led to +serious consequences. It had produced a state of deliberate +estrangement between man and wife. +</P> + +<P> +Iris secluded herself in her own room. Her husband passed the hours of +every day away from the cottage; sometimes in the company of the +doctor, sometimes among his friends in Paris. His wife suffered acutely +under the self-imposed state of separation, to which wounded pride and +keenly felt resentment compelled her to submit. No friend was near her, +in whose compassionate advice she might have token refuge. Not even the +sympathy of her maid was offered to the lonely wife. +</P> + +<P> +With the welfare of Iris as her one end in view, Fanny Mere honestly +believed that it would be better and safer for Lady Harry if she and +her husband finally decided on living separate lives. The longer my +lord persisted in keeping the doctor with him as his guest, the more +perilously he was associated with a merciless wretch, who would be +capable of plotting the ruin of anyone—man or woman, high person or +low person—who might happen to be an obstacle in his way. So far as a +person in her situation could venture on taking the liberty, the maid +did her best to widen the breach between her master and her mistress. +</P> + +<P> +While Fanny was making the attempt to influence Lady Harry, and only +producing irritation as the result, Vimpany was exerting stronger +powers of persuasion in the effort to prejudice the Irish lord against +any proposal for reconciliation which might reach him through his wife. +</P> + +<P> +"I find an unforgiving temper in your charming lady," the doctor +declared. "It doesn't show itself on the surface, my dear fellow, but +there it is. Take a wise advantage of circumstances—say you will raise +no inconvenient objections, if she wants a separation by mutual +consent. Now don't misunderstand me. I only recommend the sort of +separation which will suit our convenience. You know as well as I do +that you can whistle your wife back again—" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany's friend was rude enough to interrupt him, there. +</P> + +<P> +"I call that a coarse way of putting it," Lord Harry interposed. +</P> + +<P> +"Put it how you like for yourself," the doctor rejoined. "Lady Harry +may be persuaded to come back to you, when we want her for our grand +project. In the meantime (for I am always a considerate man where women +are concerned) we act delicately towards my lady, in sparing her the +discovery of—what shall I call our coming enterprise?—venturesome +villainy, which might ruin you in your wife's estimation. Do you see +our situation now, as it really is? Very well. Pass the bottle, and +drop the subject for the present." +</P> + +<P> +The next morning brought with it an event, which demolished the +doctor's ingenious arrangement for the dismissal of Iris from the scene +of action. Lord and Lady Harry encountered each other accidentally on +the stairs. +</P> + +<P> +Distrusting herself if she ventured to look at him, Iris turned her +eyes away from her husband. He misinterpreted the action as an +expression of contempt. Anger at once inclined him to follow Mr. +Vimpany's advice. +</P> + +<P> +He opened the door of the dining-room, empty at that moment, and told +Iris that he wished to speak with her. What his villainous friend had +suggested that he should say, on the subject of a separation, he now +repeated with a repellent firmness which he was far from really +feeling. The acting was bad, but the effect was produced. For the first +time, his wife spoke to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you really mean it?" she asked, +</P> + +<P> +The tone in which she said those words, sadly and regretfully telling +its tale of uncontrollable surprise; the tender remembrance of past +happy days in her eyes; the quivering pain, expressive of wounded love, +that parted her lips in the effort to breathe freely, touched his +heart, try as he might in the wretched pride of the moment to conceal +it. He was silent. +</P> + +<P> +"If you are weary of our married life," she continued, "say so, and let +us part. I will go away, without entreaties and without reproaches. +Whatever pain I may feel, you shall not see it!" A passing flush +crossed her face, and left it pale again. She trembled under the +consciousness of returning love—the blind love that had so cruelly +misled her! At a moment when she most needed firmness, her heart was +sinking; she resisted, struggled, recovered herself. Quietly, and even +firmly, she claimed his decision. "Does your silence mean," she asked, +"that you wish me to leave you?" +</P> + +<P> +No man who had loved her as tenderly as her husband had loved her, +could have resisted that touching self-control. He answered his wife +without uttering a word—he held out his arms to her. The fatal +reconciliation was accomplished in silence. +</P> + +<P> +At dinner on that day Mr. Vimpany's bold eyes saw a new sight, and Mr. +Vimpany's rascally lips indulged in an impudent smile. My lady appeared +again in her place at the dinner-table. At the customary time, the two +men were left alone over their wine. The reckless Irish lord, rejoicing +in the recovery of his wife's tender regard, drank freely. +Understanding and despising him, the doctor's devilish gaiety indulged +in facetious reminiscences of his own married life. +</P> + +<P> +"If I could claim a sovereign," he said, "for every quarrel between +Mrs. Vimpany and myself, I put it at a low average when I declare that +I should be worth a thousand pounds. How does your lordship stand in +that matter? Shall we say a dozen breaches of the marriage agreement up +to the present time?" +</P> + +<P> +"Say two—and no more to come!" his friend answered cheerfully. +</P> + +<P> +"No more to come!" the doctor repeated. "My experience says plenty more +to come; I never saw two people less likely to submit to a peaceable +married life than you and my lady. Ha! you laugh at that? It's a habit +of mine to back my opinion. I'll bet you a dozen of champagne there +will be a quarrel which parts you two, for good and all, before the +year is out. Do you take the bet?" +</P> + +<P> +"Done!" cried Lord Harry. "I propose my wife's good health, Vimpany, in +a bumper. She shall drink confusion to all false prophets in the first +glass of your champagne!" +</P> + +<P> +The post of the next morning brought with it two letters. +</P> + +<P> +One of them bore the postmark of London, and was addressed to Lady +Harry Norland. It was written by Mrs. Vimpany, and it contained a few +lines added by Hugh Mountjoy. "My strength is slow in returning to me" +(he wrote); "but my kind and devoted nurse says that all danger of +infection is at an end. You may write again to your old friend if Lord +Harry sees no objection, as harmlessly as in the happy past time. My +weak hand begins to tremble already. How glad I shall be to hear from +you, it is, happily for me, quite needless to add." +</P> + +<P> +In her delight at receiving this good news Iris impulsively assumed +that her husband would give it a kindly welcome on his side; she +insisted on reading the letter to him. He said coldly, "I am glad to +hear of Mr. Mountjoy's recovery"—and took up the newspaper. Was this +unworthy jealousy still strong enough to master him, even at that +moment? His wife had forgotten it. Why had he not forgotten it too? +</P> + +<P> +On the same day Iris replied to Hugh, with the confidence and affection +of the bygone time before her marriage. After closing and addressing +the envelope, she found that her small store of postage stamps was +exhausted, and sent for her maid. Mr. Vimpany happened to pass the open +door of her room, while she was asking for a stamp; he heard Fanny say +that she was not able to accommodate her mistress. "Allow me to make +myself useful," the polite doctor suggested. He produced a stamp, and +fixed it himself on the envelope. When he had proceeded on his way +downstairs, Fanny's distrust of him insisted on expressing itself. "He +wanted to find out what person you have written to," she said. "Let me +make your letter safe in the post." In five minutes more it was in the +box at the office. +</P> + +<P> +While these trifling events were in course of progress, Mr. Vimpany had +gone into the garden to read the second of the two letters, delivered +that morning, addressed to himself. On her return from the post-office, +Fanny had opportunities of observing him while she was in the +greenhouse, trying to revive the perishing flowers—neglected in the +past days of domestic trouble. +</P> + +<P> +Noticing her, after he had read his letter over for the second time, +Mr. Vimpany sent the maid into the cottage to say that he wished to +speak with her master. Lord Harry joined him in the garden—looked at +the letter—and, handing it back, turned away. The doctor followed him, +and said something which seemed to be received with objection. Mr. +Vimpany persisted nevertheless, and apparently carried his point. The +two gentlemen consulted the railway time-table, and hurried away +together, to catch the train to Paris. +</P> + +<P> +Fanny Mere returned to the conservatory, and absently resumed her +employment among the flowers. On what evil errand had the doctor left +the cottage? And, why, on this occasion, had he taken the master with +him? +</P> + +<P> +The time had been when Fanny might have tried to set these questions at +rest by boldly following the two gentlemen to Paris; trusting to her +veil, to her luck, and to the choice of a separate carriage in the +train, to escape notice. But, although her ill-judged interference with +the domestic affairs of Lady Harry had been forgiven, she had not been +received again into favour unreservedly. Conditions were imposed, which +forbade her to express any opinion on her master's conduct, and which +imperatively ordered her to leave the protection of her mistress—if +protection was really needed—in his lordship's competent hands. "I +gratefully appreciate your kind intentions," Iris had said, with her +customary tenderness of regard for the feelings of others; "but I never +wish to hear again of Mr. Vimpany, or of the strange suspicions which +he seems to excite in your mind." Still as gratefully devoted to Iris +as ever, Fanny viewed the change in my lady's way of thinking as one of +the deplorable results of her return to her husband, and waited +resignedly for the coming time when her wise distrust of two +unscrupulous men would be justified. +</P> + +<P> +Condemned to inaction for the present, Lady Harry's maid walked +irritably up and down the conservatory, forgetting the flowers. Through +the open back door of the cottage the cheap clock in the hall poured +its harsh little volume of sound, striking the hour. "I wonder," she +said to herself, "if those two wicked ones have found their way to a +hospital yet?" That guess happened to have hit the mark. The two wicked +ones were really approaching a hospital, well known to the doctor by +more previous visits than one. At the door they were met by a French +physician, attached to the institution—the writer of the letter which +had reached Mr. Vimpany in the morning. +</P> + +<P> +This gentleman led the way to the official department of the hospital, +and introduced the two foreigners to the French authorities assembled +for the transaction of business. +</P> + +<P> +As a medical man, Mr. Vimpany's claims to general respect and +confidence were carefully presented. He was a member of the English +College of Surgeons; he was the friend, as well as the colleague of the +famous President of that College, who had introduced him to the chief +surgeon of the Hotel Dieu. Other introductions to illustrious medical +persons in Paris had naturally followed. Presented under these +advantages, Mr. Vimpany announced his discovery of a new system of +treatment in diseases of the lungs. Having received his medical +education in Paris, he felt bound in gratitude to place himself under +the protection of "the princes of science," resident in the brilliant +capital of France. In that hospital, after much fruitless investigation +in similar institutions, he had found a patient suffering from the form +of lung disease, which offered to him the opportunity that he wanted. +It was impossible that he could do justice to his new system, unless +the circumstances were especially favourable. Air more pure than the +air of a great city, and bed-room accommodation not shared by other +sick persons, were among the conditions absolutely necessary to the +success of the experiment. These, and other advantages, were freely +offered to him by his noble friend, who would enter into any +explanations which the authorities then present might think it +necessary to demand. +</P> + +<P> +The explanations having been offered and approved, there was a general +move to the bed occupied by the invalid who was an object of +professional interest to the English doctor. +</P> + +<P> +The patient's name was Oxbye. He was a native of Denmark, and had +followed in his own country the vocation of a schoolmaster. His +knowledge of the English language and the French had offered him the +opportunity of migrating to Paris, where he had obtained employment as +translator and copyist. Earning his bread, poorly enough in this way, +he had been prostrated by the malady which had obliged him to take +refuge in the hospital. The French physician, under whose medical care +he had been placed, having announced that he had communicated his notes +enclosed in a letter to his English colleague, and having frankly +acknowledged that the result of the treatment had not as yet +sufficiently justified expectation, the officers of the institution +spoke next. The Dane was informed of the nature of Mr. Vimpany's +interest in him, and of the hospitable assistance offered by Mr. +Vimpany's benevolent friend; and the question was then put, whether he +preferred to remain where he was, or whether he desired to be removed +under the conditions which had just been stated? +</P> + +<P> +Tempted by the prospect of a change, which offered to him a bed-chamber +of his own in the house of a person of distinction—with a garden to +walk about in, and flowers to gladden his eyes, when he got +better—Oxbye eagerly adopted the alternative of leaving the hospital. +"Pray let me go," the poor fellow said: "I am sure I shall be the +better for it." Without opposing this decision, the responsible +directors reminded him that it had been adopted on impulse, and decided +that it was their duty to give him a little time for consideration. +</P> + +<P> +In the meanwhile, some of the gentlemen assembled at the bedside, +looking at Oxbye and then looking at Lord Harry, had observed a certain +accidental likeness between the patient and "Milord, the +philanthropist," who was willing to receive him. The restraints of +politeness had only permitted them to speak of this curious discovery +among themselves. At the later time, however, when the gentlemen had +taken leave of each other, Mr. Vimpany—finding himself alone with Lord +Harry—had no hesitation in introducing the subject, on which delicacy +had prevented the Frenchmen from entering. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you look at the Dane?" he began abruptly. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course I did!" +</P> + +<P> +"And you noticed the likeness?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not I!" +</P> + +<P> +The doctor's uproarious laughter startled the people who were walking +near them in the street. "Here's another proof," he burst out, "of the +true saying that no man knows himself. You don't deny the likeness, I +suppose?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do you yourself see it?" Lord Harry asked. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany answered the question scornfully: "Is it likely that I +should have submitted to all the trouble I have taken to get possession +of that man, if I had not seen a likeness between his face and yours?" +</P> + +<P> +The Irish lord said no more. When his friend asked why he was silent, +he gave his reason sharply enough: "I don't like the subject." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap42"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XLII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE METTLESOME MAID +</H3> + +<P> +ON the evening of that day Fanny Mere, entering the dining-room with +the coffee, found Lord Harry and Mr. Vimpany alone, and discovered (as +soon as she opened the door) that they changed the language in which +they were talking from English to French. +</P> + +<P> +She continued to linger in the room, apparently occupied in setting the +various objects on the sideboard in order. Her master was speaking at +the time; he asked if the doctor had succeeded in finding a bed-room +for himself in the neighbourhood. To this Mr. Vimpany replied that he +had got the bed-room. Also, that he had provided himself with something +else, which it was equally important to have at his disposal. "I mean," +he proceeded, in his bad French, "that I have found a photographic +apparatus on hire. We are ready now for the appearance of our +interesting Danish guest." +</P> + +<P> +"And when the man comes," Lord Harry added, "what am I to say to my +wife? How am I to find an excuse, when she hears of a hospital patient +who has taken possession of your bed-room at the cottage—and has done +it with my permission, and with you to attend on him?" +</P> + +<P> +The doctor sipped his coffee. "We have told a story that has satisfied +the authorities," he said coolly. "Repeat the story to your wife." +</P> + +<P> +"She won't believe it," Lord Harry replied. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany waited until he had lit another cigar, and had quite +satisfied himself that it was worth smoking. +</P> + +<P> +"You have yourself to thank for that obstacle," he resumed. "If you had +taken my advice, your wife would have been out of our way by this time. +I suppose I must manage it. If you fail, leave her ladyship to me. In +the meanwhile, there's a matter of more importance to settle first. We +shall want a nurse for our poor dear invalid. Where are we to find +her?" +</P> + +<P> +As he stated that difficulty, he finished his coffee, and looked about +him for the bottle of brandy which always stood on the dinner-table. In +doing this, he happened to notice Fanny. Convinced that her mistress +was in danger, after what she had already heard, the maid's anxiety and +alarm had so completely absorbed her that she had forgotten to play her +part. Instead of still busying herself at the sideboard, she stood with +her back to it, palpably listening. Cunning Mr. Vimpany, possessing +himself of the brandy, made a request too entirely appropriate to +excite suspicion. +</P> + +<P> +"Some fresh cold water, if you please," was all that he said. +</P> + +<P> +The moment that Fanny left the room, the doctor addressed his friend in +English, with his eye on the door: "News for you, my boy! We are in a +pretty pickle—Lady Harry's maid understands French." +</P> + +<P> +"Quite impossible," Lord Harry declared. +</P> + +<P> +"We will put that to the test," Mr. Vimpany answered. "Watch her when +she comes in again." +</P> + +<P> +"What are you going to do." +</P> + +<P> +"I am going to insult her in French. Observe the result." +</P> + +<P> +In another minute Fanny returned with the fresh water. As she placed +the glass jug before Mr. Vimpany he suddenly laid his hand on her arm +and looked her straight in the face. "Vous nous avez mis dedans, +drolesse!"* he said. +</P> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +* In English: "You have taken us in, you jade!" +</P> + +<P> +An uncontrollable look of mingled rage and fear made its plain +confession in Fanny's face. She had been discovered; she had heard +herself called "drolesse;" she stood before the two men self-condemned. +Her angry master threatened her with instant dismissal from the house. +The doctor interfered. +</P> + +<P> +"No, no," he said; "you mustn't deprive Lady Harry, at a moment's +notice, of her maid. Such a clever maid, too," he added with his +rascally smile. "An accomplished person, who understands French, and is +too modest to own it!" +</P> + +<P> +The doctor had led Fanny through many a weary and unrewarded walk when +she had followed him to the hospitals; he had now inflicted a +deliberate insult by calling her "drolesse" and he had completed the +sum of his offences by talking contemptuously of her modesty and her +mastery of the French language. The woman's detestation of him, which +under ordinary circumstances she might have attempted to conceal, was +urged into audaciously asserting itself by the strong excitement that +now possessed her. Driven to bay, Fanny had made up her mind to +discover the conspiracy of which Mr. Vimpany was the animating spirit, +by a method daring enough to be worthy of the doctor himself. +</P> + +<P> +"My knowledge of French has told me something," she said. "I have just +heard, Mr. Vimpany, that you want a nurse for your invalid gentleman. +With my lord's permission, suppose you try Me?" +</P> + +<P> +Fanny's audacity was more than her master's patience could endure. He +ordered her to leave the room. +</P> + +<P> +The peace-making doctor interfered again: "My dear lord, let me beg you +will not be too hard on the young woman." He turned to Fanny, with an +effort to look indulgent, which ended in the reappearance of his +rascally smile. "Thank you, my dear, for your proposal," he said; "I +will let you know if we accept it, to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +Fanny's unforgiving master pointed to the door; she thanked Mr. +Vimpany, and went out. Lord Harry eyed his friend in angry amazement. +"Are you mad?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me something first," the doctor rejoined. "Is there any English +blood in your family?" +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry answered with a burst of patriotic feeling: "I regret to say +my family is adulterated in that manner. My grandmother was an +Englishwoman." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany received this extract from the page of family history with +a coolness all his own. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a relief to hear that," he said. "You may be capable (by the +grandmother's side) of swallowing a dose of sound English sense. I can +but try, at any rate. That woman is too bold and too clever to be +treated like an ordinary servant—I incline to believe that she is a +spy in the employment of your wife. Whether I am right or wrong in this +latter case, the one way I can see of paring the cat's claws is to turn +her into a nurse. Do you find me mad now?" +</P> + +<P> +"Madder than ever!" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, you don't take after your grandmother! Now listen to me. Do we run +the smallest risk, if Fanny finds it her interest to betray us? Suppose +we ask ourselves what she has really found out. She knows we have got a +sick man from a hospital coming here—does she know what we want him +for? Not she! Neither you nor I said a word on that subject. But she +also heard us agree that your wife was in our way. What does that +matter? Did she hear us say what it is that we don't want your wife to +discover? Not she, I tell you again! Very well, then—if Fanny acts as +Oxbye's nurse, shy as the young woman may be, she innocently associates +herself with the end that we have to gain by the Danish gentleman's +death! Oh, you needn't look alarmed! I mean his natural death by lung +disease—no crime, my noble friend! no crime!" +</P> + +<P> +The Irish lord, sitting near the doctor, drew his chair back in a +hurry. +</P> + +<P> +"If there's English blood in my family," he declared, "I'll tell you +what, Vimpany, there's devil's blood in yours!" +</P> + +<P> +"Anything you like but Irish blood," the cool scoundrel rejoined. +</P> + +<P> +As he made that insolent reply, Fanny came in again, with a sufficient +excuse for her reappearance. She announced that a person from the +hospital wished to speak to the English doctor. +</P> + +<P> +The messenger proved to be a young man employed in the secretary's +office. Oxbye still persisting in his desire to be placed under Mr. +Vimpany's care; one last responsibility rested on the official +gentlemen now in charge of him. They could implicitly trust the medical +assistance and the gracious hospitality offered to the poor Danish +patient; but, before he left them, they must also be satisfied that he +would be attended by a competent nurse. If the person whom Mr. Vimpany +proposed to employ in this capacity could be brought to the hospital, +it would be esteemed a favour; and, if her account of herself satisfied +the physician in charge of Oxbye's case, the Dane might be removed to +his new quarters on the same day. +</P> + +<P> +The next morning witnessed the first in a series of domestic incidents +at the cottage, which no prophetic ingenuity could have foreseen. Mr. +Vimpany and Fanny Mere actually left Passy together, on their way to +Paris! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap43"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XLIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +FICTION: ATTEMPTED BY MY LORD +</H3> + +<P> +THE day on which the doctor took his newly-appointed nurse with him to +the hospital became an occasion associated with distressing +recollections in the memory of Iris. +</P> + +<P> +In the morning, Fanny Mere had asked for leave to go out. For some time +past this request had been so frequently granted, with such poor +results so far as the maid's own designs were concerned, that Lady +Harry decided on administering a tacit reproof, by means of a refusal. +Fanny made no attempt at remonstrance; she left the room in silence. +</P> + +<P> +Half an hour later, Iris had occasion to ring for her attendant. The +bell was answered by the cook—who announced, in explanation of her +appearance, that Fanny Mere had gone out. More distressed than +displeased by this reckless disregard of her authority, on the part of +a woman who had hitherto expressed the most grateful sense of her +kindness, Iris only said: "Send Fanny to me as soon as she comes back." +</P> + +<P> +Two hours passed before the truant maid returned. +</P> + +<P> +"I refused to let you go out this morning," Lady Harry said; "and you +have taken the liberty of leaving the house for two hours. You might +have made me understand, in a more becoming manner, that you intended +to leave my service." +</P> + +<P> +Steadily respectful, Fanny answered: "I don't wish to leave your +ladyship's service." +</P> + +<P> +"Then what does your conduct mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"It means, if you please, that I had a duty to do—and did it." +</P> + +<P> +"A duty to yourself?" Iris asked. +</P> + +<P> +"No, my lady; a duty to you." +</P> + +<P> +As she made that strange reply the door was opened, and Lord Harry +entered the room. When he saw Fanny Mere he turned away again, in a +hurry, to go out. "I didn't know your maid was with you," he said. +"Another time will do." +</P> + +<P> +His permitting a servant to be an obstacle in his way, when he wished +to speak to his wife, was a concession so entirely unbecoming in the +master of the house, and so strangely contrary to his customary sense +of what was due to himself, that Iris called him back in astonishment. +She looked at her maid, who at once understood her, and withdrew. "What +can you possibly be thinking of?" she said to her husband, when they +were alone. Putting that question, she noticed an embarrassment in his +manner, and an appearance of confusion in his face, which alarmed her. +"Has something happened?" she asked; "and is it so serious that you +hesitate to mention it to me?" +</P> + +<P> +He sat down by her and took her hand. The loving look in his eyes, +which she knew so well, was not in them now; they expressed doubt, and +something with it which suggested an effort at conciliation. +</P> + +<P> +"I am fearing I shall surprise you," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't keep me in suspense!" she returned. "What is it?" +</P> + +<P> +He smiled uneasily: "It's something about Vimpany." +</P> + +<P> +Having got as far as that, he stopped. She drew her hand away from him. +"I understand now," she said; "I must endeavour to control myself—you +have something to tell me which will try my temper." +</P> + +<P> +He held up his hands in humorous protest: "Ah, my darling, here's your +vivid imagination again, making mountains out of molehills, as they +say! It's nothing half so serious as you seem to think; I have only to +tell you of a little change." +</P> + +<P> +"A little change?" she repeated. "What change?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, my dear, you see—" He hesitated and recovered himself. "I mean, +you must know that Vimpany's plans are altered. He won't any longer +occupy his bedroom in the cottage here." +</P> + +<P> +Iris looked inexpressibly relieved. "Going away, at last!" she +exclaimed. "Oh, Harry, if you have been mystifying me, I hope you will +never do it again. It isn't like you; it's cruel to alarm me about +nothing. Mr. Vimpany's empty bedroom will be the most interesting room +in the house, when I look into it to-night." +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry got up, and walked to the window. As a sign of trouble in +his mind, and of an instinctive effort to relieve it, the object of +this movement was well-known to Iris. She followed him and stood by his +side. It was now plain to her that there was something more to be +told—and that he was hesitating how to confide it to his wife. +</P> + +<P> +"Go on," she said resignedly. +</P> + +<P> +He had expected her to take his arm, or perhaps to caress him, or at +least to encourage him by her gentlest words and her prettiest smiles. +The steady self-restraint which she now manifested was a sign, as he +interpreted it, of suppressed resentment. Shrinking, honestly +shrinking, from the bare possibility of another quarrel, he confronted +the hard necessities of further confession. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, now," he said, "it's only this—you mustn't look into the empty +bedroom to-night." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, for the best of all good reasons! Because you might find somebody +in there." +</P> + +<P> +This reply excited her curiosity: her eyes rested on him eagerly. "Some +friend of yours?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +He persisted in an assumption of good-humour, which betrayed itself as +mere artifice in the clumsiest manner: "I declare I feel as if I were +in a court of justice, being cross-examined by a lawyer of skill and +dexterity! Well, my sweet counsellor, no—not exactly a friend of +mine." +</P> + +<P> +She reflected for a moment. "You don't surely mean one of Mr. Vimpany's +friends?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +He pretended not to have heard her, and pointed to the view of the +garden from the window. "Isn't it a lovely day? Let's go and look at +the flowers," he suggested. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you not hear what I said to you just now?" she persisted. +</P> + +<P> +"I beg your pardon, dear; I was thinking of something else. Suppose we +go into the garden?" +</P> + +<P> +When women have a point to gain in which they are interested, how many +of them are capable of deferring it to a better opportunity? One in a +thousand, perhaps. Iris kept her place at the window, resolved on +getting an answer. +</P> + +<P> +"I asked you, Harry, whether the person who is to occupy our spare +bedroom, to-night, was one of Mr. Vimpany's friends?" +</P> + +<P> +"Say one of Mr. Vimpany's patients—and you will be nearer the truth," +he answered, with an outburst of impatience. +</P> + +<P> +She could hardly believe him. "Do you mean a person who is really ill?" +she said. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course I mean it," he said; irritated into speaking out, at last. +</P> + +<P> +"A man? or a woman?" +</P> + +<P> +"A man." +</P> + +<P> +"May I ask if he comes from England?" +</P> + +<P> +"He comes from one of the French hospitals. Anything more?" +</P> + +<P> +Iris left her husband to recover his good-humour, and went back to her +chair. The extraordinary disclosure which she had extracted from him +had produced a stupefying effect on her mind. Her customary sympathy +with him, her subtle womanly observation of his character, her intimate +knowledge of his merits and his defects, failed to find the rational +motive which might have explained his conduct. She looked round at him +with mingled feelings of perplexity and distrust. +</P> + +<P> +He was still at the window, but he had turned his back on the view of +the garden; his eyes were fixed, in furtive expectation, on his wife. +Was he waiting to hear her say something more? She ran the risk and +said it. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't quite understand the sacrifice you seem to be making to Mr. +Vimpany," she confessed. "Will you tell me, dear, what it means?" +</P> + +<P> +Here was the opportunity offered of following the doctor's advice, and +putting his wife's credulity to the test. With her knowledge of +Vimpany, would she really believe the story which had imposed on the +strangers who managed the hospital? Lord Harry made up his mind, to try +the experiment. No matter what the result might be, it would bring the +responsibilities that were crushing him to an end. He need say no more, +if the deception succeeded. He could do no more, if it failed. Under +the influence of this cheering reflection, he recovered his temper; his +handsome face brightened again with its genial boyish smile. +</P> + +<P> +"What a wonderful woman you are!" he cried. "Isn't it just the thing +that I am here for, to tell you what I mean—and my clever wife sees +through and through me, and reminds me of what I must do! Pay my fee +beforehand, Iris! Give me a kiss—and my poor meaning shall be offered +in return. It will help me if you remember one thing. Vimpany and I are +old friends, and there's nothing we won't do to accommodate each other. +Mind that!" +</P> + +<P> +Tried fairly on its own merits, the stupid fiction invented by the +doctor produced an effect for which Lord Harry was not prepared. The +longer Iris listened, the more strangely Iris looked at him. Not a word +fell from her lips when he had done. He noticed that she had turned +pale: it seemed to be almost possible that he had frightened her! +</P> + +<P> +If his bird-witted brains could have coupled cause and effect, this was +exactly the result which he might have anticipated. +</P> + +<P> +She was asked to believe that a new system of medical practice had been +invented by such a person as Mr. Vimpany. She was asked to believe that +an invalid from a foreign hospital, who was a perfect stranger to Lord +Harry, had been willingly made welcome to a bedroom at the cottage. She +was asked to believe that this astounding concession had been offered +to the doctor as a tribute of friendship, after her husband had himself +told her that he regretted having invited Vimpany, for the second time, +to become his guest. Here was one improbable circumstance accumulated +on another, and a clever woman was expected to accept the monstrous +excuses, thus produced, as a trustworthy statement of facts. +Irresistibly, the dread of some evil deed in secret contemplation cast +its darkening presence on the wife's mind. Lord Harry's observation had +not misled him, when he saw Iris turn pale, and when the doubt was +forced on him whether he might not have frightened her. +</P> + +<P> +"If my explanation of this little matter has satisfied you," he +ventured to resume, "we need say no more about it." +</P> + +<P> +"I agree with you," she answered, "let us say no more about it." +Conscious, in spite of the effort to resist it, of a feeling of +oppression while she was in the same room with a man who had +deliberately lied to her, and that man her husband, she reminded Lord +Harry that he had proposed to take a walk in the garden. Out in the +pure air, under the bright sky, she might breathe more freely. "Come to +the flowers," she said. +</P> + +<P> +They went to the garden together—the wife fearing the deceitful +husband, the husband fearing the quick-witted wife. +</P> + +<P> +Watching each other like two strangers, they walked silently side by +side, and looked now and then at the collection of flowers and plants. +Iris noticed a delicate fern which had fallen away from the support to +which it had been attached. She stopped, and occupied herself in +restoring it to its place. When she looked round again, after attending +to the plant, her husband had disappeared, and Mr. Vimpany was waiting +in his place. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap44"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XLIV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +FICTION: IMPROVED BY THE DOCTOR +</H3> + +<P> +"WHERE is Lord Harry?" Iris asked. +</P> + +<P> +The reply startled her: "Lord Harry leaves me to say to your ladyship, +what he has not had resolution enough to say for himself." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't understand you, Mr. Vimpany." +</P> + +<P> +The doctor pointed to the fern which had just been the object of Lady +Harry's care. +</P> + +<P> +"You have been helping that sickly plant there to live and thrive," he +said, "and I have felt some curiosity in watching you. There is another +sickly plant, which I have undertaken to rear if the thing can be done. +My gardening is of the medical kind—I can only carry it on +indoors—and whatever else it may be, I tell you plainly, like the +outspoken sort of fellow I am, it's not likely to prove agreeable to a +lady. No offence, I hope? Your humble servant is only trying to produce +the right sort of impression—and takes leave to doubt his lordship in +one particular." +</P> + +<P> +"In what particular, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll put it in the form of a question, ma'am. Has my friend persuaded +you to make arrangements for leaving the cottage?" +</P> + +<P> +Iris looked at Lord Harry's friend without attempting to conceal her +opinion of him. +</P> + +<P> +"I call that an impertinent question," she said. "By what right do you +presume to inquire into what my husband and I may, or may not, have +said to each other?" +</P> + +<P> +"Will you do me a favour, my lady? Or, if that is asking too much, +perhaps you will not object to do justice to yourself. Suppose you try +to exercise the virtue of self-control? +</P> + +<P> +"Quite needless, Mr. Vimpany. Pray understand that you are not capable +of making me angry." +</P> + +<P> +"Many thanks, Lady Harry: you encourage me to go on. When I was bold +enough to speak of your leaving the cottage, my motive was to prevent +you from being needlessly alarmed." +</P> + +<P> +Did this mean that he was about to take her into his confidence? All +her experience of him forbade her to believe it possible. But the +doubts and fears occasioned by her interview with her husband had +mastered her better sense; and the effort to conceal from the doctor +the anxiety under which she suffered was steadily weakening the +influence of her self-respect. "Why should I be alarmed?" she asked, in +the vain hope of encouraging him to tell the truth. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor arrived at a hasty conclusion, on his side. Believing that +he had shaken her resolution, he no longer troubled himself to assume +the forms of politeness which he had hitherto, with some difficulty, +contrived to observe. +</P> + +<P> +"In this curious little world of ours," he resumed, "we enjoy our lives +on infernally hard terms. We live on condition that we die. The man I +want to cure may die, in spite of the best I can do for him—-he may +sink slowly, by what we medical men call a hard death. For example, it +wouldn't much surprise me if I found some difficulty in keeping him in +his bed. He might roam all over your cottage when my back was turned. +Or he might pay the debt of Nature—as somebody calls it—with +screaming and swearing. If you were within hearing of him, I'm afraid +you might be terrified, and, with the best wish to be useful, I +couldn't guarantee (if the worst happened) to keep him quiet. In your +place, if you will allow me to advise you—" +</P> + +<P> +Iris interrupted him. Instead of confessing the truth, he was +impudently attempting to frighten her. "I don't allow a person in whom +I have no confidence to advise me," she said; "I wish to hear no more." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany found it desirable to resume the forms of politeness. +Either he had failed to shake her resolution, or she was sufficiently +in possession of herself to conceal what she felt. +</P> + +<P> +"One last word!" he said. "I won't presume to advise your ladyship; I +will merely offer a suggestion. My lord tells me that Hugh Mountjoy is +on the way to recovery. You are in communication with him by letter, as +I happened to notice when I did you that trifling service of providing +a postage-stamp. Why not go to London and cheer your convalescent +friend? Harry won't mind it—I beg your pardon, I ought to have said +Lord Harry. Come! come! my dear lady; I am a rough fellow, but I mean +well. Take a holiday, and come back to us when my lord writes to say +that he can have the pleasure of receiving you again." He waited for a +moment. "Am I not to be favoured with an answer?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"My husband shall answer you." +</P> + +<P> +With those parting words, Iris turned her back on him. +</P> + +<P> +She entered the cottage. Now in one room, and now in another, she +searched for Lord Harry; he was nowhere to be found. Had he purposely +gone out to avoid her? Her own remembrance of Vimpany's language and +Vimpany's manner told her that so it must be—the two men were in +league together. Of all dangers, unknown danger is the most terrible to +contemplate. Lady Harry's last resources of resolution failed her. She +dropped helplessly into a chair. +</P> + +<P> +After an interval—whether it was a long or a short lapse of time she +was unable to decide—someone gently opened the door. Had her husband +felt for her? Had he returned? "Come in! she cried eagerly—" come in! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap45"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XLV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +FACT: RELATED BY FANNY +</H3> + +<P> +THE person who now entered the room was Fanny Mere. +</P> + +<P> +But one interest was stirring in the mind of Iris now. "Do you know +where your master is?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I saw him go out," the maid replied. "Which way I didn't particularly +notice—" She was on the point of adding, "and I didn't particularly +care," when she checked herself. "Yesterday and to-day, my lady, things +have come to my knowledge which I must not keep to myself," the +resolute woman continued. "If a servant may say such a thing without +offence, I have never been so truly my mistress's friend as I am now. I +beg you to forgive my boldness; there is a reason for it." +</P> + +<P> +So she spoke, with no presumption in her looks, with no familiarity in +her manner. The eyes of her friendless mistress filled with tears, the +offered hand of her friendless mistress answered in silence. Fanny took +that kind hand, and pressed it respectfully—a more demonstrative woman +than herself might perhaps have kissed it. She only said, "Thank you, +my lady," and went on with what she felt it her duty to relate. +</P> + +<P> +As carefully as usual, as quietly as usual, she repeated the +conversation, at Lord Harry's table; describing also the manner in +which Mr. Vimpany had discovered her as a person who understood the +French language, and who had cunningly kept it a secret. In this +serious state of things, the doctor—yes, the doctor himself!—had +interfered to protect her from the anger of her master, and, more +wonderful still, for a reason which it seemed impossible to dispute. He +wanted a nurse for the foreigner whose arrival was expected on that +evening, and he had offered the place to Fanny. "Your ladyship will, I +hope, excuse me; I have taken the place." +</P> + +<P> +This amazing end to the strange events which had just been narrated +proved to be more than Iris was immediately capable of understanding. +"I am in the dark," she confessed. "Is Mr. Vimpany a bolder villain +even than I have supposed him to be?" +</P> + +<P> +"That he most certainly is!" Fanny said with strong conviction. "As to +what he really had in his wicked head when he engaged me, I shall find +that out in time. Anyway, I am the nurse who is to help him. When I +disobeyed you this morning, my lady, it was to go to the hospital with +Mr. Vimpany. I was taken to see the person whose nurse I am to be. A +poor, feeble, polite creature, who looked as if he couldn't hurt a +fly—-and yet I promise you he startled me! I saw a likeness, the +moment I looked at him." +</P> + +<P> +"A likeness to anybody whom I know?" Iris asked. +</P> + +<P> +"To the person in all the world, my lady, whom you know most nearly—a +likeness to my master." +</P> + +<P> +"What!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it's no fancy; I am sure of what I say. To my mind, that Danish +man's likeness to my lord is (if you will excuse my language) a nasty +circumstance. I don't know why or wherefore—all I can say is, I don't +like it; and I shan't rest until I have found out what it means. +Besides this, my lady, I must know the reason why they want to get you +out of their way. Please to keep up your heart; I shall warn you in +time, when I am sure of the danger." +</P> + +<P> +Iris refused to sanction the risk involved in this desperate design. +"It's <I>you</I> who will be in danger!" she exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +In her coolest state of obstinacy, Fanny answered: "That's in your +ladyship's service—and that doesn't reckon." +</P> + +<P> +Feeling gratefully this simple and sincere expression of attachment, +Iris held to her own opinion, nevertheless. +</P> + +<P> +"You are in my service," she said; "I won't let you go to Mr. Vimpany. +Give it up, Fanny! Give it up!" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll give it up, my lady, when I know what the doctor means to do—not +before." +</P> + +<P> +The assertion of authority having failed, Iris tried persuasion next. +</P> + +<P> +"As your mistress, it is my duty to set you an example," she resumed. +"One of us must be considerate and gentle in a dispute—let me try to +be that one. There can be no harm, and there may be some good, in +consulting the opinion of a friend; some person in whose discretion we +can trust." +</P> + +<P> +"Am I acquainted with the person your ladyship is thinking of?" Fanny +inquired. "In that case, a friend will know what we want of her by +to-morrow morning. I have written to Mrs. Vimpany." +</P> + +<P> +"The very person I had in my mind, Fanny! When may we expect to hear +from her?" +</P> + +<P> +"If Mrs. Vimpany can put what she has to say to us into few words," +Fanny replied, "we shall hear from her to-morrow by telegraph." +</P> + +<P> +As she answered her mistress in those cheering words, they were +startled by a heavy knock at the door of the room. Under similar +circumstances, Lord Harry's delicate hand would have been just loud +enough to be heard, and no more. Iris called out suspiciously: "Who's +there?" +</P> + +<P> +The doctor's gross voice answered: "Can I say a word, if you please, to +Fanny Mere?" +</P> + +<P> +The maid opened the door. Mr. Vimpany's heavy hand laid bold of her +arm, pulled her over the threshold, and closed the door behind her. +After a brief absence, Fanny returned with news of my lord. +</P> + +<P> +A commissioner had arrived with a message for the doctor; and Fanny was +charged to repeat it or not, just as she thought right under the +circumstances. Lord Harry was in Paris. He had been invited to go to +the theatre with some friends, and to return with them to supper. If he +was late in getting home, he was anxious that my lady should not be +made uneasy. After having authorised Mr. Vimpany's interference in the +garden, the husband evidently had his motives for avoiding another +interview with the wife. Iris was left alone, to think over that +discovery. Fanny had received orders to prepare the bedroom for the +doctor's patient. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap46"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XLVI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MAN AND WIFE +</H3> + +<P> +TOWARDS evening, the Dane was brought to the cottage. +</P> + +<P> +A feeling of pride which forbade any display of curiosity, strengthened +perhaps by an irresistible horror of Vimpany, kept Iris in her room. +Nothing but the sound of footsteps, outside, told her when the +suffering man was taken to his bed-chamber on the same floor. She was, +afterwards informed by Fanny that the doctor turned down the lamp in +the corridor, before the patient was helped to ascend the stairs, as a +means of preventing the mistress of the house from plainly seeing the +stranger's face, and recognising the living likeness of her husband. +</P> + +<P> +The hours advanced—the bustle of domestic life sank into +silence—everybody but Iris rested quietly in bed. +</P> + +<P> +Through the wakeful night the sense of her situation oppressed her +sinking spirits. Mysteries that vaguely threatened danger made their +presence felt, and took their dark way through her thoughts. The +cottage, in which the first happy days of her marriage had been passed, +might ere long be the scene of some evil deed, provoking the lifelong +separation of her husband and herself! Were these the exaggerated fears +of a woman in a state of hysterical suspicion? It was enough for Iris +to remember that Lord Harry and Mr. Vimpany had been alike incapable of +telling her the truth. The first had tried to deceive her; the second +had done his best to frighten her. Why? If there was really nothing to +be afraid of—why? The hours of the early morning came; and still she +listened in vain for the sound of my lord's footstep on the stairs; +still she failed to hear the cautious opening of his dressing-room +door. Leaving her chair, Iris rested on the bed. As time advanced, +exhaustion mastered her; she slept. +</P> + +<P> +Awakening at a late hour, she rang for Fanny Mere. The master had just +returned. He had missed the latest night-train to Passy; and, rather +than waste money on hiring a carriage at that hour, he had accepted the +offer of a bed at the house of his friends. He was then below stairs, +hoping to see Lady Harry at breakfast. +</P> + +<P> +His wife joined him. +</P> + +<P> +Not even at the time of the honeymoon had the Irish lord been a more +irresistibly agreeable man than he was on that memorable morning. His +apologies for having failed to return at the right time were little +masterpieces of grace and gaiety. The next best thing to having been +present, at the theatrical performance of the previous night, was to +hear his satirical summary of the story of the play, contrasting +delightfully with his critical approval of the fine art of the actors. +The time had been when Iris would have resented such merciless trifling +with serious interests as this. In these earlier and better days, she +would have reminded him affectionately of her claim to be received into +his confidence—she would have tried all that tact and gentleness and +patience could do to win his confession of the ascendency exercised +over him by his vile friend—and she would have used the utmost +influence of her love and her resolution to disunite the fatal +fellowship which was leading him to his ruin. +</P> + +<P> +But Iris Henley was Lady Harry now. +</P> + +<P> +She was sinking—as Mrs. Vimpany had feared, as Mountjoy had +foreseen—lower and lower on the descent to her husband's level. With a +false appearance of interest in what he was saying she waited for her +chance of matching him with his own weapons of audacious deceit. He +ignorantly offered her the opportunity—setting the same snare to catch +his wife, which she herself had it in contemplation to use for +entrapping her husband into a confession of the truth. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, well—I have said more than enough of my last night's amusement," +he confessed. "It's your turn now, my dear. Have you had a look at the +poor fellow whom the doctor is going to cure?" he asked abruptly; eager +to discover whether she had noticed the likeness between Oxbye and +himself. +</P> + +<P> +Her eyes rested on him attentively. "I have not yet seen the person you +allude to," she answered. "Is Mr. Vimpany hopeful of his recovery?" +</P> + +<P> +He took out his case, and busied himself in choosing a cigar. In the +course of his adventurous life, he had gained some knowledge of the +effect of his own impetuous temper on others, and of difficulties which +he had experienced when circumstances rendered it necessary to keep his +face in a state of discipline. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, there's no reason for anxiety!" he said, with an over-acted +interest in examining his cigar. "Mr. Oxbye is in good hands." +</P> + +<P> +"People do sometimes sink under an illness," she quietly remarked. +</P> + +<P> +Without making any reply he took out his matchbox. His hand trembled a +little; he failed at the first attempt to strike a light. +</P> + +<P> +"And doctors sometimes make mistakes," Iris went on. +</P> + +<P> +He was still silent. At the second attempt, he succeeded with the +match, and lit his cigar. +</P> + +<P> +"Suppose Mr. Vimpany made a mistake," she persisted. "In the case of +this stranger, it might lead to deplorable results." +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry lost his temper, and with it his colour. +</P> + +<P> +"What the devil do you mean?" he cried. +</P> + +<P> +"I might ask, in my turn," she said, "what have I done to provoke an +outbreak of temper? I only made a remark." +</P> + +<P> +At that critical moment, Fanny Mere entered the room with a telegram in +her hand. +</P> + +<P> +"For you, my lady." +</P> + +<P> +Iris opened the telegram. The message was signed by Mrs. Vimpany, and +was expressed in these words: "You may feel it your duty to go to your +father. He is dangerously ill." +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry saw a sudden change in his wife's face that roused his +guilty suspicions. "Is it anything about me?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +Iris handed the telegram to him in silence. Having looked at it, he +desired to hear what her wishes were. +</P> + +<P> +"The telegram expresses my wishes," she said. "Have you any objection +to my leaving you?" +</P> + +<P> +"None whatever," he answered eagerly. "Go, by all means." +</P> + +<P> +If it had still been possible for her to hesitate, that reply would +have put an end to all further doubt. She turned away to leave the +room. He followed her to the door. +</P> + +<P> +"I hope you don't think there is any want of sympathy on my part," he +said. "You are quite right to go to your father. That was all I meant." +He was agitated, honestly agitated, while he spoke. Iris saw it, and +felt it gratefully. She was on the point of making a last appeal to his +confidence, when he opened the door for her. "Don't let me detain you," +he said. His voice faltered; he suddenly turned aside before she could +look at him. +</P> + +<P> +Fanny was waiting in the hall, eager to see the telegram. She read it +twice and reflected for a moment. "How often do things fit themselves +to one's wishes in this convenient way?" she asked herself. "It's +lucky," she privately decided—"almost too lucky. Let me pack up your +things," she continued, addressing her mistress, "while I have some +time to myself. Mr. Oxbye is asleep." +</P> + +<P> +As the day wore on, the noble influences in the nature of Iris, failing +fast, yet still at rare intervals struggling to assert themselves, +inspired her with the resolution to make a last attempt to give her +husband an opportunity of trusting her. He was not in his room, not in +any other part of the house, not in the garden. The hours passed—she +was left to eat her dinner in solitude. For the second time, he was +avoiding her. For the second time, he distrusted the influence of his +wife. With a heavy heart she prepared for her departure by the +night-mail. +</P> + +<P> +The duties of the new nurse kept her in the cottage. Filled with alarm +for the faithful creature whom she was leaving—to what fate, who could +say?—Iris kissed her at parting. +</P> + +<P> +Fanny's faint blue eyes filled with tears. She dashed them away, and +held her mistress for an instant in her arms. "I know whom you are +thinking of," she whispered. "He is not here to bid you good-bye. Let +me see what I can find in his room." Iris had already looked round the +room, in the vain hope of finding a letter. Fanny rushed up the stairs, +determined on a last search—and ran down again with a folded morsel of +flimsy foreign notepaper in her hand. "My ugly eyes are quicker than +yours," she said. "The air must have come in at the window and blown it +off the table." Iris eagerly read the letter: +</P> + +<P> +"I dare not deny that you will be better away from us, but only for a +while. Forgive me, dearest; I cannot find the courage to say good-bye." +Those few words spoke for him—and no more. +</P> + +<P> +Briefly on her side, but not unkindly, his wife answered him: +</P> + +<P> +"You have spared me a bitter moment. May I hope to find the man whom I +have trusted and honoured, when I come back? Good-bye." +</P> + +<P> +When were they to meet again? And how? +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap47"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XLVII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE PATIENT AND MY LORD +</H3> + +<P> +THERE now remained but one other person in Lord Harry's household whose +presence on the scene was an obstacle to be removed. +</P> + +<P> +This person was the cook. On condition of her immediate departure +(excused by alleged motives of economy), she received a month's wages +from her master, in advance of the sum due to her, and a written +character which did ample justice to her many good qualities. The poor +woman left her employment with the heartiest expressions of gratitude. +To the end of her days, she declared the Irish lord to be a nobleman by +nature. Republican principles, inherited from her excellent parents, +disinclined her to recognise him as a nobleman by birth. +</P> + +<P> +But another sweet and simple creature was still left to brighten the +sinister gloom in the cottage. +</P> + +<P> +The good Dane sorely tried the patience of Fanny Mere. This countryman +of Hamlet, as he liked to call himself, was a living protest against +the sentiments of inveterate contempt and hatred, with which his nurse +was accustomed to regard the men. When pain spared him at intervals, +Mr. Oxbye presented the bright blue eyes and the winning smile which +suggested the resemblance to the Irish lord. His beardless face, thin +towards the lower extremities, completed the likeness in some degree +only. The daring expression of Lord Harry, in certain emergencies, +never appeared. Nursing him carefully, on the severest principles of +duty as distinguished from inclination, Fanny found herself in the +presence of a male human being, who in the painless intervals of his +malady, wrote little poems in her praise; asked for a few flowers from +the garden, and made prettily arranged nosegays of them devoted to +herself; cried, when she told him he was a fool, and kissed her hand +five minutes afterwards, when she administered his medicine, and gave +him no pleasant sweet thing to take the disagreeable taste out of his +mouth. This gentle patient loved Lord Harry, loved Mr. Vimpany, loved +the furious Fanny, resist it as she might. On her obstinate refusal to +confide to him the story of her life—after he had himself set her the +example at great length—he persisted in discovering for himself that +"this interesting woman was a victim of sorrows of the heart." In +another state of existence, he was offensively certain that she would +be living with <I>him.</I> "You are frightfully pale, you will soon die; I +shall break a blood-vessel, and follow you; we shall sit side by side +on clouds, and sing together everlastingly to accompaniment of +celestial harps. Oh, what a treat!" Like a child, he screamed when he +was in pain; and, like a child, he laughed when the pain had gone away. +When she was angry enough with him to say, "If I had known what sort of +man you were, I would never have undertaken to nurse you," he only +answered, "my dear, let us thank God together that you did not know." +There was no temper in him to be roused; and, worse still, on buoyant +days, when his spirits were lively, there was no persuading him that he +might not live long enough to marry his nurse, if he only put the +question to her often enough. What was to be done with such a man as +this? Fanny believed that she despised her feeble patient. At the same +time, the food that nourished him was prepared by her own hands—while +the other inhabitants of the cottage were left (in the absence of the +cook) to the tough mercies of a neighbouring restaurant. First and +foremost among the many good deeds by which the conduct of women claims +the gratitude of the other sex, is surely the manner in which they let +an unfortunate man master them, without an unworthy suspicion of that +circumstance to trouble the charitable serenity of their minds. +</P> + +<P> +Carefully on the look-out for any discoveries which might enlighten +her, Fanny noticed with ever-increasing interest the effect which the +harmless Dane seemed to produce on my lord and the doctor. +</P> + +<P> +Every morning, after breakfast, Lord Harry presented himself in the +bedroom. Every morning, his courteous interest in his guest expressed +itself mechanically in the same form of words: +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Oxbye, how do you find yourself to-day?" +</P> + +<P> +Sometimes the answer would be: "Gracious lord, I am suffering pain." +Sometimes it was: "Dear and admirable patron, I feel as if I might get +well again." On either occasion, Lord Harry listened without looking at +Mr. Oxbye—said he was sorry to hear a bad account or glad to hear a +good account, without looking at Mr. Oxbye—made a remark on the +weather, and took his leave, without looking at Mr. Oxbye. Nothing +could be more plain than that his polite inquiries (once a day) were +unwillingly made, and that it was always a relief to him to get out of +the room. So strongly was Fanny's curiosity excited by this strange +behaviour, that she ventured one day to speak to her master. +</P> + +<P> +"I am afraid, my lord, you are not hopeful of Mr. Oxbye's recovering?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mind your own business," was the savage answer that she received. +</P> + +<P> +Fanny never again took the liberty of speaking to him; but she watched +him more closely than ever. He was perpetually restless. Now he +wandered from one room to another, and walked round and round the +garden, smoking incessantly. Now he went out riding, or took the +railway to Paris and disappeared for the day. On the rare occasions +when he was in a state of repose, he always appeared to have taken +refuge in his wife's room; Fanny's keyhole-observation discovered him, +thinking miserably, seated in his wife's chair. It seemed to be +possible that he was fretting after Lady Harry. But what did his +conduct to Mr. Oxbye mean? What was the motive which made him persist, +without an attempt at concealment, in keeping out of Mr. Vimpany's way? +And, treated in this rude manner, how was it that his wicked friend +seemed to be always amused, never offended? +</P> + +<P> +As for the doctor's behaviour to his patient, it was, in Fanny's +estimation, worthy of a savage. +</P> + +<P> +He appeared to feel no sort of interest in the man who had been sent to +him from the hospital at his own request, and whose malady it was +supposed to be the height of his ambition to cure. When Mr. Oxbye +described his symptoms, Mr. Vimpany hardly even made a pretence at +listening. With a frowning face he applied the stethoscope, felt the +pulse, looked at the tongue—and drew his own conclusions in sullen +silence. If the nurse had a favourable report to make, he brutally +turned his back on her. If discouraging results of the medical +treatment made their appearance at night, and she felt it a duty to +mention them, he sneered as if he doubted whether she was speaking the +truth. Mr. Oxbye's inexhaustible patience and amiability made endless +allowances for his medical advisor. "It is my misfortune to keep my +devoted doctor in a state of perpetual anxiety," he used to say; "and +we all know what a trial to the temper is the consequence of unrelieved +suspense. I believe in Mr. Vimpany." Fanny was careful not to betray +her own opinion by making any reply; her doubts of the doctor had, by +this time, become terrifying doubts even to herself. Whenever an +opportunity favoured her, she vigilantly watched him. One of his ways +of finding amusement, in his leisure hours, was in the use of a +photographic apparatus. He took little pictures of the rooms in the +cottage, which were followed by views in the garden. Those having come +to an end, he completed the mystification of the nurse by producing a +portrait of the Dane, while he lay asleep one day after he had been +improving in health for some little time past. Fanny asked leave to +look at the likeness when it had been "printed" from the negative, in +the garden. He first examined it himself—and then deliberately tore it +up and let the fragments fly away in the wind. "I am not satisfied with +it," was all the explanation he offered. One of the garden chairs +happened to be near him; he sat down, and looked like a man in a state +of torment under his own angry thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +If the patient's health had altered for the worse, and if the tendency +to relapse had proved to be noticeable after medicine had been +administered, Fanny's first suspicions might have taken a very serious +turn. But the change in Oxbye—sleeping in purer air and sustained by +better food than he could obtain at the hospital—pointed more and more +visibly to a decided gain of vital strength. His hollow checks were +filling out, and colour was beginning to appear again on the pallor of +his skin. Strange as the conduct of Lord Harry and Mr. Vimpany might +be, there was no possibility, thus far, of connecting it with the +position occupied by the Danish guest. Nobody who had seen his face, +when he was first brought to the cottage, could have looked at him +again, after the lapse of a fortnight, and have failed to discover the +signs which promise recovery of health. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap48"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XLVIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +"THE MISTRESS AND THE MAID" +</H3> + +<P> +IN the correspondence secretly carried on between the mistress in +London and the maid at Passy, it was Fanny Mere's turn to write next. +She decided on delaying her reply until she had once more given careful +consideration to the first letter received from Lady Harry, announcing +her arrival in England, and a strange discovery that had attended it. +</P> + +<P> +Before leaving Paris, Iris had telegraphed instructions to Mrs. Vimpany +to meet her at the terminus in London. Her first inquiries were for her +father. The answer given, with an appearance of confusion and even of +shame, was that there was no need to feel anxiety on the subject of Mr. +Henley's illness. Relieved on hearing this good news, Iris naturally +expressed some surprise at her father's rapid recovery. She asked if +the doctors had misunderstood his malady when they believed him to be +in danger. To this question Mrs. Vimpany had replied by making an +unexpected confession. +</P> + +<P> +She owned that Mr. Henley's illness had been at no time of any serious +importance. A paragraph in a newspaper had informed her that he was +suffering from nothing worse than an attack of gout. It was a wicked +act to have exaggerated this report, and to have alarmed Lady Harry on +the subject of her father's health. Mrs. Vimpany had but one excuse to +offer. Fanny's letter had filled her with such unendurable doubts and +forebodings that she had taken the one way of inducing Lady Harry to +secure her own safety by at once leaving Passy—the way by a false +alarm. Deceit, so sincerely repented, so resolutely resisted, had tried +its power of temptation again, and had prevailed. +</P> + +<P> +"When I thought of you at the mercy of my vile husband," Mrs. Vimpany +said, "with your husband but too surely gained as an accomplice, my +good resolutions failed me. Is it only in books that a true repentance +never stumbles again? Or am I the one fallible mortal creature in the +world? I am ashamed of myself. But, oh, Lady Harry, I was so frightened +for you! Try to forgive me; I am so fond of you, and so glad to see you +here in safety. Don't go back! For God's sake, don't go back!" +</P> + +<P> +Iris had no intention of returning, while the doctor and his patient +were still at Passy; and she found in Mrs. Vimpany's compassion good +reason to forgive an offence committed through devotion to herself, and +atoned for by sincere regret. +</P> + +<P> +Fanny looked carefully over the next page of the letter, which +described Lady Harry's first interview with Mr. Mountjoy since his +illness. The expressions of happiness on renewing her relations with +her old and dear friend confirmed the maid in her first impression that +there was no fear of a premature return to Passy, with the wish to see +Lord Harry again as the motive. She looked over the later letters +next—and still the good influence of Mr. Mountjoy seemed to be in time +ascendant. There was anxiety felt for Fanny's safety, and curiosity +expressed to hear what discoveries she might have made; but the only +allusions to my lord contained ordinary inquiries relating to the state +of his health, and, on one occasion, there was a wish expressed to know +whether he was still on friendly terms with Mr. Vimpany. There seemed +to be no fear of tempting her mistress to undervalue the danger of +returning to the cottage, if she mentioned the cheering improvement now +visible in Mr. Oxbye. And yet Fanny still hesitated to trust her first +impressions, even after they had been confirmed. Her own sad experience +reminded her of the fatal influence which an unscrupulous man can +exercise over the woman who loves him. It was always possible that Lady +Harry might not choose to confide the state of her feelings towards her +husband to a person who, after all, only occupied the position of her +maid. The absence, in her letters, of any expressions of affectionate +regret was no proof that she was not thinking of my lord. So far as he +was personally concerned, the Dane's prospects of recovery would appear +to justify the action of the doctor and his accomplice. Distrusting +them both as resolutely as ever, and determined to keep Lady Harry as +long as possible at the safe distance of London, Fanny Mere, in writing +her reply, preserved a discreet silence on the subject of Mr. Oxbye's +health. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +[At this point Wilkie Collins' health prevented his finishing the +novel.] +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap49"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XLIX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE NURSE IS SENT AWAY +</H3> + +<P> +"YOU have repented and changed your mind, Vimpany?" said Lord Harry. +</P> + +<P> +"I repented?" the doctor repeated, with a laugh. "You think me capable +of that, do you?" +</P> + +<P> +"The man is growing stronger and better every day. You are going to +make him recover, after all. I was afraid"—he corrected himself—"I +thought"—the word was the truer—"that you were going to poison him." +</P> + +<P> +"You thought I was going—we were going, my lord—to commit a stupid +and a useless crime. And, with our clever nurse present, all the time +watching with the suspicions of a cat, and noting every change in the +symptoms? No—I confess his case has puzzled me because I did not +anticipate this favourable change. Well—it is all for the best. Fanny +sees him grow stronger every day—whatever happens she can testify to +the care with which the man has been treated. So far she thought she +would have us in her power, and we have her." +</P> + +<P> +"You are mighty clever, Vimpany; but sometimes you are too clever for +me, and, perhaps, too clever for yourself." +</P> + +<P> +"Let me make myself clearer"—conscious of the nurse's suspicions, he +leaned forward and whispered: "Fanny must go. Now is the time. The man +is recovering. The man must go: the next patient will be your lordship +himself. Now do you understand?" +</P> + +<P> +"Partly." +</P> + +<P> +"Enough. If I am to act it is sufficient for you to understand step by +step. Our suspicious nurse is to go. That is the next step. Leave me to +act." +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry walked away. He left the thing to the doctor. It hardly +seemed to concern him. A dying man; a conspiracy; a fraud:—yet the +guilty knowledge of all this gave him small uneasiness. He carried with +him his wife's last note: "May I hope to find on my return the man whom +I have trusted and honoured?" His conscience, callous as regards the +doctor's scheme, filled him with remorse whenever—which was fifty +times a day—he took this little rag of a note from his pocket-book and +read it again. Yes: she would always find the man, on her return—the +man whom she had trusted and honoured—the latter clause he passed +over—it would be, of course the same man: whether she would still be +able to trust and honour him—that question he did not put to himself. +After all, the doctor was acting—not he, himself. +</P> + +<P> +And he remembered Hugh Mountjoy. Iris would be with him—the man whose +affection was only brought out in the stronger light by his respect, +his devotion, and his delicacy. She would be in his society: she would +understand the true meaning of this respect and delicacy: she would +appreciate the depth of his devotion: she would contrast Hugh, the man +she might have married, with himself, the man she did marry. +</P> + +<P> +And the house was wretched without her; and he hated the sight of the +doctor—desperate and reckless. +</P> + +<P> +He resolved to write to Iris: he sat down and poured out his heart, but +not his conscience, to her. +</P> + +<P> +"As for our separation," he said, "I, and only I, am to blame. It is my +own abominable conduct that has caused it. Give me your pardon, dearest +Iris. If I have made it impossible for you to live with me, it is also +impossible for me to live without you. So am I punished. The house is +dull and lonely; the hours crawl, I know not how to kill the time; my +life is a misery and a burden because you are not with me. Yet I have +no right to complain; I ought to rejoice in thinking that you are happy +in being relieved of my presence. My dear, I do not ask you to come at +present"—he remembered, indeed, that her arrival at this juncture +might be seriously awkward—"I cannot ask you to come back yet, but let +me have a little hope—let me feel that in the sweetness of your nature +you will believe in my repentance, and let me look forward to a speedy +reunion in the future." +</P> + +<P> +When he had written this letter, which he would have done better to +keep in his own hands for awhile, he directed it in a feigned hand to +Lady Harry Norland, care of Hugh Mountjoy, at the latter's London +hotel. Mountjoy would not know Iris's correspondent, and would +certainly forward the letter. He calculated—with the knowledge of her +affectionate and impulsive nature—that Iris would meet him half-way, +and would return whenever he should be able to call her back. He did +not calculate, as will be seen, on the step which she actually took. +</P> + +<P> +The letter despatched, he came back to the cottage happier—he would +get his wife again. He looked in at the sick-room. The patient was +sitting up, chatting pleasantly; it was the best day he had known; the +doctor was sitting in a chair placed beside the bed, and the nurse +stood quiet, self-composed, but none the less watchful and suspicious. +</P> + +<P> +"You are going on so well, my man," Doctor Vimpany was saying, "That we +shall have you out and about again in a day or two. Not quite yet, +though—not quite yet," he pulled out his stethoscope and made an +examination with an immense show of professional interest. "My +treatment has succeeded, you see"—he made a note or two in his +pocket-book—"has succeeded," he repeated. "They will have to +acknowledge that." +</P> + +<P> +"Gracious sir, I am grateful. I have given a great deal too much +trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"A medical case can never give too much trouble—that is impossible. +Remember, Oxbye, it is Science which watches at your bedside. You are +not Oxbye; you are a case; it is not a man, it is a piece of machinery +that is out of order. Science watches: she sees you through and +through. Though you are made of solid flesh and bones, and clothed, to +Science you are transparent. Her business is not only to read your +symptoms, but to set the machinery right again." +</P> + +<P> +The Dane, overwhelmed, could only renew his thanks. +</P> + +<P> +"Can he stand, do you think, nurse?" the doctor went on. "Let us +try—not to walk about much to-day, but to get out of bed, if only to +prove to himself that he is so much better; to make him understand that +he is really nearly well. Come, nurse, let us give him a hand." +</P> + +<P> +In the most paternal manner possible the doctor assisted his patient, +weak, after so long a confinement to his bed, to get out of bed, and +supported him while he walked to the open window, and looked out into +the garden. "There," he said, "that is enough. Not too much at first. +To-morrow he will have to get up by himself. Well, Fanny, you agree at +last, I suppose, that I have brought this poor man round? At last, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +His look and his words showed what he meant. "You thought that some +devilry was intended." That was what the look meant. "You proposed to +nurse this man in order to watch for and to discover this devilry. Very +well, what have you got to say?" +</P> + +<P> +All that Fanny had to say was, submissively, that the man was clearly +much better; and, she added, he had been steadily improving ever since +he came to the cottage. +</P> + +<P> +That is what she said; but she said it without the light of confidence +in her eyes—she was still doubtful and suspicious. Whatever power the +doctor had of seeing the condition of lungs and hidden machinery, he +certainly had the power of reading this woman's thoughts. He saw, as +clearly as if upon a printed page, the bewilderment of her mind. She +knew that something was intended—-something not for her to know. That +the man had been brought to the cottage to be made the subject of a +scientific experiment she did not believe. She had looked to see him +die, but he did not die. He was mending fast; in a little while he +would be as well as ever he had been in his life. What had the doctor +done it for? Was it really possible that nothing was ever intended +beyond a scientific experiment, which had succeeded? In the case of any +other man, the woman's doubts would have been entirely removed; in the +case of Dr. Vimpany these doubts remained. There are some men of whom +nothing good can be believed, whether of motive or of action; for if +their acts seem good, their motive must be bad. Many women know, or +fancy they know, such a man—one who seems to them wholly and +hopelessly bad. Besides, what was the meaning of the secret +conversation and the widespread colloquies of the doctor and my lord? +And why, at first, was the doctor so careless about his patient? +</P> + +<P> +"The time has come at last," said the doctor that evening, when the two +men were alone, "for this woman to go. The man is getting well rapidly, +he no longer wants a nurse; there is no reason for keeping her. If she +has suspicions there is no longer the least foundation for them; she +has assisted at the healing of a man desperately sick by a skilful +physician. What more? Nothing—positively nothing." +</P> + +<P> +"Can she tell my wife so much and no more?" asked Lord Harry. "Will +there be no more?" +</P> + +<P> +"She can tell her ladyship no more, because she will have no more to +tell," the doctor replied quietly. "She would like to learn more; she +is horribly disappointed that there is no more to tell; but she shall +hear no more. She hates me: but she hates your lordship more." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because her mistress loves you still. Such a woman as this would like +to absorb the whole affection of her mistress in herself. You laugh. +She is a servant, and a common person. How can such a person conceive +an affection so strong as to become a passion for one so superior? But +it is true. It is perfectly well known, and there have been many +recorded instances of such a woman, say a servant, greatly inferior in +station, conceiving a desperate affection for her mistress, accompanied +by the fiercest jealousy. Fanny Mere is jealous—and of you. She hates +you; she wants your wife to hate you. She would like nothing better +than to go back to her mistress with the proofs in her hand of such +acts on your part—such acts, I say," he chose his next words +carefully, "as would keep her from you for ever." +</P> + +<P> +"She's a devil, I dare say," said Lord Harry, carelessly. "What do I +care? What does it matter to me whether a lady's maid, more or less, +hates me or loves me?" +</P> + +<P> +"There spoke the aristocrat. My lord, remember that a lady's maid is a +woman. You have been brought up to believe, perhaps, that people in +service are not men and women. That is a mistake—a great mistake. +Fanny Mere is a woman—that is to say, an inferior form of man; and +there is no man in the world so low or so base as not to be able to do +mischief. The power of mischief is given to every one of us. It is the +true, the only Equality of Man—we can all destroy. What? a shot in the +dark; the striking of a lucifer match; the false accusation; the false +witness; the defamation of character;—upon my word, it is far more +dangerous to be hated by a woman than by a man. And this excellent and +faithful Fanny, devoted to her mistress, hates you, my lord, even +more"—he paused and laughed—"even more than the charming Mrs. Vimpany +hates her husband. Never mind. To-morrow we see the last of Fanny Mere. +She goes; she leaves her patient rapidly recovering. That is the fact +that she carries away—not the fact she hoped and expected to carry +away. She goes to-morrow and she will never come back again." +</P> + +<P> +The next morning the doctor paid a visit to his patient rather earlier +than usual. He found the man going on admirably: fresh in colour, +lively and cheerful, chatting pleasantly with his nurse. +</P> + +<P> +"So," said Dr. Vimpany, after the usual examination and questions, +"this is better than I expected. You are now able to get up. You can do +so by-and-by, after breakfast; you can dress yourself, you want no more +help. Nurse," he turned to Fanny, "I think that we have done with you. +I am satisfied with the careful watch you have kept over my patient. If +ever you think of becoming a nurse by profession, rely on my +recommendation. The experiment," he added, thoughtfully, "has fully +succeeded. I cannot deny that it has been owing partly to the +intelligence and patience with which you have carried out my +instructions. But I think that your services may now be relinquished." +</P> + +<P> +"When am I to go, sir?" she asked, impassively. +</P> + +<P> +"In any other case I should have said, 'Stay a little longer, if you +please. Use your own convenience.' In your case I must say, 'Go to your +mistress.' Her ladyship was reluctant to leave you behind. She will be +glad to have you back again. How long will you take to get ready?" +</P> + +<P> +"I could be ready in ten minutes, if it were necessary." +</P> + +<P> +"That is not necessary. You can take the night mail <I>via</I> Dieppe and +Newhaven. It leaves Paris at 9.50. Give yourself an hour to get from +station to station. Any time, therefore, this evening before seven +o'clock will do perfectly well. You will ask his lordship for any +letters or messages he may have." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir," Fanny replied. "With your permission, sir, I will go at +once, so as to get a whole day in Paris." +</P> + +<P> +"As you please, as you please," said the doctor, wondering why she +wanted a day in Paris; but it could have nothing to do with his sick +man. He left the room, promising to see the Dane again in an hour or +two, and took up a position at the garden gate through which the nurse +must pass. In about half an hour she walked down the path carrying her +box. The doctor opened the gate for her. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-bye, Fanny," he said. "Again, many thanks for your care and your +watchfulness—especially the latter. I am very glad," he said, with +what he meant for the sweetest smile, but it looked like a grin, "that +it has been rewarded in such a way as you hardly perhaps expected." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, sir," said the girl. "The man is nearly well now, and can +do without me very well indeed." +</P> + +<P> +"The box is too heavy for you, Fanny. Nay, I insist upon it: I shall +carry it to the station for you." +</P> + +<P> +It was not far to the station, and the box was not too heavy, but Fanny +yielded it. "He wants to see me safe out of the station," she thought. +</P> + +<P> +"I will see her safe out of the place," he thought. +</P> + +<P> +Ten minutes later the doors of the <I>salle d'attente</I> were thrown open, +the train rolled in, and Fanny was carried away. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor returned thoughtfully to the house. The time was come for +the execution of his project. Everybody was out of the way. +</P> + +<P> +"She is gone," he said, when Lord Harry returned for breakfast at +eleven. "I saw her safely out of the station." +</P> + +<P> +"Gone!" his confederate echoed: "and I am alone in the house with you +and—and——" +</P> + +<P> +"The sick man—henceforth, yourself, my lord, yourself." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap50"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER L +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IN THE ALCOVE +</H3> + +<P> +THE doctor was wrong. Fanny Mere did return, though he did not discover +the fact. +</P> + +<P> +She went away in a state of mind which is dangerous when it possesses a +woman of determination. The feminine mind loves to understand motives +and intentions; it hates to be puzzled. Fanny was puzzled. Fanny could +not understand what had been intended and what was now meant. For, +first, a man, apparently dying, had been brought into the house—why? +Then the man began slowly to recover, and the doctor, whose attentions +had always been of the most slender character, grew more morose every +day. Then he suddenly, on the very day when he sent her away, became +cheerful, congratulated the patient on his prospect of recovery, and +assisted in getting him out of bed for a change. The cook having been +sent away, there was now no one in the house but the Dane, the doctor, +and Lord Harry. +</P> + +<P> +Man hunts wild creatures; woman hunts man. Fanny was impelled by the +hunting instinct. She was sent out of the house to prevent her hunting; +she began to consider next, how, without discovery, she could return +and carry on the hunt. +</P> + +<P> +Everything conspired to drive her back: the mystery of the thing; the +desire to baffle, or at least to discover, a dark design; the wish to +be of service to her mistress; and the hope of finding out something +which would keep Iris from going back to her husband. Fanny was unable +to comprehend the depth of her mistress's affection for Lord Harry; but +that she was foolishly, weakly in love with him, and that she would +certainly return to him unless plain proofs of real villainy were +prepared—so much Fanny understood very well. When the omnibus set her +down, she found a quiet hotel near the terminus for Dieppe. She spent +the day walking about—to see the shops and streets, she would have +explained; to consider the situation, she should have explained. She +bought a new dress, a new hat, and a thick veil, so as to be disguised +at a distance. As for escaping the doctor's acuteness by any disguise +should he meet her face to face, that was impossible. But her mind was +made up—she would run any risk, meet any danger, in order to discover +the meaning of all this. +</P> + +<P> +Next morning she returned by an omnibus service which would allow her +to reach the cottage at about a quarter-past eleven. She chose this +time for two reasons: first, because breakfast was sent in from the +restaurant at eleven, and the two gentlemen would certainly be in the +<I>salle 'a manger</I> over that meal; and, next, because the doctor always +visited his patient after breakfast. She could, therefore, hope to get +in unseen, which was the first thing. +</P> + +<P> +The spare bedroom—that assigned to the patient—was on the +ground-floor next to the dining-room; it communicated with the garden +by French windows, and by a small flight of steps. +</P> + +<P> +Fanny walked cautiously along the road past the garden-gate; a rapid +glance assured her that no one was there; she hastily opened the gate +and slipped in. She knew that the windows of the sick-room were closed +on the inner side, and the blinds were still down. The patient, +therefore, had not yet been disturbed or visited. The windows of the +dining-room were on the other side of the house. The woman therefore +slipped round to the back, where she found, as she expected, the door +wide open. In the hall she heard the voices of the doctor and Lord +Harry and the clicking of knives and forks. They were at breakfast. +</P> + +<P> +One thing more—What should she say to Oxbye? What excuse should she +make for coming back? How should she persuade him to keep silence about +her presence? His passion suggested a plan and a reason. She had come +back, she would tell him, for love of him, to watch over him, unseen by +the doctor, to go away with him when he was strong enough to travel. He +was a simple and a candid soul, and he would fall into such a little +innocent conspiracy. Meantime, it would be quite easy for her to remain +in the house perfectly undisturbed and unknown to either of the +gentlemen. +</P> + +<P> +She opened the door and looked in. +</P> + +<P> +So far, no reason would be wanted. The patient was sleeping peacefully. +But not in the bed. He was lying, partly dressed and covered with a +blanket, on the sofa. With the restlessness of convalescence he had +changed his couch in the morning after a wakeful night, and was now +sleeping far into the morning. +</P> + +<P> +The bed, as is common in French houses, stood in an alcove. A heavy +curtain hung over a rod, also in the French manner. Part of this +curtain lay over the head of the bed. +</P> + +<P> +The woman perceived the possibility of using the curtain as a means of +concealment. There was a space of a foot between the bed and the wall. +She placed herself, therefore, behind the bed, in this space, at the +head, where the curtain entirely concealed her. Nothing was more +unlikely than that the doctor should look behind the bed in that +corner. Then with her scissors she pierced a hole in the curtain large +enough for her to see perfectly without the least danger of being seen, +and she waited to see what would happen. +</P> + +<P> +She waited for half an hour, during which the sleeping man slept on +without movement, and the voices of the two men in the <I>salle 'a +manger</I> rose and fell in conversation. Presently there was silence, +broken only by an occasional remark. "They have lit their cigars," +Fanny murmured; "they will take their coffee, and in a few minutes they +will be here." +</P> + +<P> +When they came in a few minutes later, they had their cigars, and Lord +Harry's face was slightly flushed, perhaps with the wine he had taken +at breakfast—perhaps with the glass of brandy after his coffee. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor threw himself into a chair and crossed his legs, looking +thoughtfully at his patient. Lord Harry stood over him. +</P> + +<P> +"Every day," he said, "the man gets better." +</P> + +<P> +"He has got better every day, so far," said the doctor. +</P> + +<P> +"Every day his face gets fatter, and he grows less like me." +</P> + +<P> +"It is true," said the doctor. +</P> + +<P> +"Then—what the devil are we to do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Wait a little longer," said the doctor. +</P> + +<P> +The woman in her hiding-place hardly dared to breathe. +</P> + +<P> +"What?" asked Lord Harry. "You mean that the man, after all—" +</P> + +<P> +"Wait a little longer," the doctor repeated quietly. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me"—Lord Harry bent over the sick man eagerly—"you think——" +</P> + +<P> +"Look here," the doctor said. "Which of us two has had a medical +education—you, or I?" +</P> + +<P> +"You, of course." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; I, of course. Then I tell you, as a medical man, that appearances +are sometimes deceptive. This man, for instance—he looks better; he +thinks he is recovering; he feels stronger. You observe that he is +fatter in the face. His nurse, Fanny Mere, went away with the knowledge +that he was much better, and the conviction that he was about to leave +the house as much recovered as such a patient with such a disorder can +expect." +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, my lord, allow me to confide in you. Medical men mostly keep +their knowledge in such matters to themselves. We know and recognise +symptoms which to you are invisible. By these symptoms—by those +symptoms," he repeated slowly and looking hard at the other man, "I +know that this man—no longer Oxbye, my patient, but—another—is in a +highly dangerous condition. I have noted the symptoms in my book"—he +tapped his pocket—"for future use." +</P> + +<P> +"And when—when——" Lord Harry was frightfully pale. His lips moved, +but he could not finish the sentence. The Thing he had agreed to was +terribly near, and it looked uglier than he had expected. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! when?" the doctor replied carelessly. "Perhaps to-day—perhaps in +a week. Here, you see, Science is sometimes baffled. I cannot say." +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry breathed deeply. "If the man is in so serious a condition," +he said, "is it safe or prudent for us to be alone in the house without +a servant and without a nurse?" +</P> + +<P> +"I was not born yesterday, my lord, I assure you," said the doctor in +his jocular way. "They have found me a nurse. She will come to-day. My +patient's life is, humanly speaking"—Lord Harry shuddered—"perfectly +safe until her arrival." +</P> + +<P> +"Well—but she is a stranger. She must know whom she is nursing." +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly. She will be told—I have already told her—that she is +going to nurse Lord Harry Norland, a young Irish gentleman. She is a +stranger. That is the most valuable quality she possesses. She is a +complete stranger. As for you, what are you? Anything you please. An +English gentleman staying with me under the melancholy circumstances of +his lordship's illness. What more natural? The English doctor is +staying with his patient, and the English friend is staying with the +doctor. When the insurance officer makes inquiries, as he is very +likely to do, the nurse will be invaluable for the evidence she will +give." +</P> + +<P> +He rose, pulled up the blinds noiselessly, and opened the windows. +Neither the fresh air nor the light awoke the sleeping man. +</P> + +<P> +Vimpany looked at his watch. "Time for the medicine," he said. "Wake +him up while I get it ready." +</P> + +<P> +"Would you not—at least—-suffer him to have his sleep out?" asked +Lord Harry, again turning pale. +</P> + +<P> +"Wake him up. Shake him by the shoulder. Do as I tell you," said the +doctor, roughly. "He will go to sleep again. It is one of the finer +qualities of my medicine that it sends people to sleep. It is a most +soothing medicine. It causes a deep—a profound sleep. Wake him up, I +say." he went to the cupboard in which the medicines were kept. Lord +Harry with some difficulty roused the sick man, who awoke dull and +heavy, asking why he was disturbed. +</P> + +<P> +"Time for your medicine, my good fellow," said the doctor. "Take it, +and you shall not be disturbed again—I promise you that." +</P> + +<P> +The door of the cupboard prevented the spy from seeing what the doctor +was doing; but he took longer than usual in filling the glass. Lord +Harry seemed to observe this, for he left the Dane and looked over the +doctor's shoulder. "What are you doing?" he asked in a whisper. +</P> + +<P> +"Better not inquire, my lord," said the doctor. "What do you know about +the mysteries of medicine?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why must I not inquire?" +</P> + +<P> +Vimpany turned, closing the cupboard behind him. In his hand was a +glass full of the stuff he was about to administer. +</P> + +<P> +"If you look in the glass," he said, "you will understand why." +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry obeyed. He saw a face ghastly in pallor: he shrank back and +fell into a chair, saying no more. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, my good friend," said the doctor, "drink this and you'll be +better—ever so much better, ever so much better. Why—that is +brave——" he looked at him strangely, "How do you like the medicine?" +</P> + +<P> +Oxbye shook his head as a man who has taken something nauseous. "I +don't like it at all," he said. "It doesn't taste like the other +physic." +</P> + +<P> +"No I have been changing it—improving it." +</P> + +<P> +The Dane shook his head again. "There's a pain in my throat," he said; +"it stings—it burns!" +</P> + +<P> +"Patience—patience. It will pass away directly, and you will lie down +again and fall asleep comfortably." +</P> + +<P> +Oxbye sank back upon the sofa. His eyes closed. Then he opened them +again, looking about him strangely, as one who is suffering some new +experience. Again he shook his head, again he closed his eyes, and he +opened them no more. He was asleep. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor stood at his head watching gravely. Lord Harry, in his +chair, leaned forward, also watching, but with white face and trembling +hands. +</P> + +<P> +As they watched, the man's head rolled a little to the side, turning +his face more towards the room. Then a curious and terrifying thing +happened. His mouth began slowly to fall open. +</P> + +<P> +"Is he—is he—is he fainting?" Lord Harry whispered. +</P> + +<P> +"No; he is asleep. Did you never see a man sleep with his mouth wide +open?" +</P> + +<P> +They were silent for a space. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor broke the silence. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a good light this morning," he said carelessly. "I think I +will try a photograph. Stop! Let me tie up his mouth with a +handkerchief—so." The patient was not disturbed by the operation, +though the doctor tied up the handkerchief with vigour enough to awaken +a sound sleeper. "Now—we'll see if he looks like a post-mortem +portrait." +</P> + +<P> +He went into the next room, and returned with his camera. In a few +minutes he had taken the picture, and was holding the glass negative +against the dark sleeve of his coat, so as to make it visible. "We +shall see how it looks," he said, "when it is printed. At present I +don't think it is good enough as an imitation of you to be sent to the +insurance offices. Nobody, I am afraid, who knew you, would ever take +this for a post-mortem portrait of Lord Harry. Well, we shall see. +Perhaps by-and-by—to-morrow—we may be able to take a better +photograph. Eh?" Lord Harry followed his movements, watching him +closely, but said nothing. His face remained pale and his fingers still +trembled. There was now no doubt at all in his mind, not only as to +Vimpany's intentions, but as to the crime itself. He dared not speak or +move. +</P> + +<P> +A ring at the door pealed through the house. Lord Harry started in his +chair with a cry of terror. +</P> + +<P> +"That," said the doctor, quietly, "is the nurse—the new nurse—-the +stranger." He took off the handkerchief from Oxbye's face, looked about +the room as if careful that everything should be in its right place, +and went out to admit the woman. Lord Harry sprang to his feet and +passed his hand over the sick man's face. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it done?" he whispered. "Can the man be poisoned? Is he already +dead?—already? Before my eyes?" +</P> + +<P> +He laid his finger on the sick man's pulse. But the doctor's step and +voice stopped him. Then the nurse came in, following Vimpany. She was +an elderly, quiet-looking French woman. +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry remained standing at the side of the sofa, hoping to see the +man revive. +</P> + +<P> +"Now," said Vimpany, cheerfully, "here is your patient, nurse. He is +asleep now. Let him have his sleep out—he has taken his medicine and +will want nothing more yet awhile. If you want anything let me know. We +shall be in the next room or in the garden—somewhere about the house. +Come, my friend." He drew away Lord Harry gently by the arm, and they +left the room. +</P> + +<P> +Behind the curtain Fanny Mere began to wonder how she was to get off +unseen. +</P> + +<P> +The nurse, left alone, looked at her patient, who lay with his head +turned partly round, his eyes closed, his mouth open. "A strange +sleep," she murmured; "but the doctor knows, I suppose. He is to have +his sleep out." +</P> + +<P> +"A strange sleep, indeed!" thought the watcher. She was tempted at this +moment to disclose herself and to reveal what she had seen; but the +thought of Lord Harry's complicity stopped her. With what face could +she return to her mistress and tell her that she herself was the means +of her husband being charged with murder? She stayed herself, +therefore, and waited. +</P> + +<P> +Chance helped her, at last, to escape. +</P> + +<P> +The nurse took off her bonnet and shawl and began to look about the +room. She stepped to the bed and examined the sheets and pillow-case as +a good French housewife should. Would she throw back the curtain? If +so—what would happen next? Then it would become necessary to take the +new nurse into confidence, otherwise——Fanny did not put the +remainder of this sentence into words. It remained a terror: it meant +that if Vimpany found out where she had been and what she had seen and +heard, there would be two, instead of one, cast into a deep slumber. +</P> + +<P> +The nurse turned from the bed, however, attracted by the half-open door +of the cupboard. Here were the medicine bottles. She took them out one +by one, looked at them with professional curiosity, pulled out the +corks, smelt the contents, replaced the bottles. Then she went to the +window, which stood open; she stepped out upon the stone steps which +led into the garden, looking about her, to breathe the soft air of noon +among the flowers. +</P> + +<P> +She came back, and it again seemed as if she would examine the bed, but +her attention was attracted by a small book-case. She began to pull +down the books one after the other and to turn them over, as a +half-educated person does, in the hope of finding something amusing. +She found a book with pictures. Then she sat down in the armchair +beside the sofa and began to turn over the leaves slowly. How long was +this going to last? +</P> + +<P> +It lasted about half an hour. The nurse laid down the volume with a +yawn, stretched herself, yawned again, crossed her hands, and closed +her eyes. She was going to sleep. If she would only fall so fast asleep +that the woman behind the curtain could creep away! +</P> + +<P> +But sometimes at the sleepiest moment sleep is driven away by an +accident. The accident in this case was that the nurse before finally +dropping off remembered that she was nursing a sick man, and sat up to +look at him before she allowed herself to drop off. +</P> + +<P> +Stung with sudden inspiration she sprang to her feet and bent over the +man. "Does he breathe?" she asked. She bent lower. "His pulse! does it +beat?" she caught his wrist. +</P> + +<P> +"Doctor!" she shrieked, running into the garden. "Doctor! Come—come +quick! He is dead!" +</P> + +<P> +Fanny Mere stepped from her hiding-place and ran out of the back door, +and by the garden gate into the road. +</P> + +<P> +She had escaped. She had seen the crime committed. She knew now at +least what was intended and why she was sent away. The motive for the +crime she could not guess. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap51"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER LI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WHAT NEXT? +</H3> + +<P> +WHAT should she do with the terrible secret? +</P> + +<P> +She ought to inform the police. But there were two objections. First, +the nurse may have been mistaken in supposing her patient to be dead. +She herself had no choice but to escape as she did. Next, the dreadful +thought occurred to her that she herself until the previous day had +been the man's nurse—his only nurse, day and night. What was to +prevent the doctor from fixing the guilt of poisoning upon herself? +Nay; it would be his most obvious line of action. The man was left +alone all the morning; the day before he had shown every sign of +returning strength; she would have to confess that she was in hiding. +How long had she been there? Why was she in hiding? Was it not after +she had poisoned the man and when she heard the doctor's footstep? +Naturally ignorant of poisons and their symptoms, it seemed to her as +if these facts so put together would be conclusive against her. +Therefore, she determined to keep quiet in Paris that day and to cross +over by the night boat from Dieppe in the evening. She would at first +disclose everything to Mrs. Vimpany and to Mountjoy. As to what she +would tell her mistress she would be guided by the advice of the +others. +</P> + +<P> +She got to London in safety and drove straight to Mr. Mountjoy's hotel, +proposing first to communicate the whole business to him. But she found +in his sitting-room Mrs. Vimpany herself. +</P> + +<P> +"We must not awake him," she said, "whatever news you bring. His +perfect recovery depends entirely on rest and quiet. There"—she +pointed to the chimneypiece—"is a letter in my lady's handwriting. I +am afraid I know only too well what it tells him." +</P> + +<P> +"What does it tell?" +</P> + +<P> +"This very morning," Mrs. Vimpany went on, "I called at her lodging. +She has gone away." +</P> + +<P> +"Gone away? My lady gone away? Where is she gone?" +</P> + +<P> +"Where do you think she is most likely to have gone?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not?—oh!—not to her husband? Not to him!—oh! this is more +terrible—far more terrible—than you can imagine." +</P> + +<P> +"You will tell me why it is now so much more terrible. Meantime, I find +that the cabman was told to drive to Victoria. That is all I know. I +have no doubt, however, but that she has gone back to her husband. She +has been in a disturbed, despondent condition ever since she arrived in +London. Mr. Mountjoy has been as kind as usual: but he has not been +able to chase away her sadness. Whether she was fretting after her +husband, or whether—but this I hardly think—she was comparing the man +she had lost with the man she had taken—but I do not know. All I do +know is that she has been uneasy ever since she came from France, and +what I believe is that she has been reproaching herself with leaving +her husband without good cause." +</P> + +<P> +"Good cause!" echoed Fanny. "Oh! good gracious! If she only knew, +there's cause enough to leave a hundred husbands." +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing seemed to rouse her," Mrs. Vimpany continued, without +regarding the interruption. "I went with her to the farm to see her +former maid, Rhoda. The girl's health is re-established; she is engaged +to marry the farmer's brother. Lady Harry was kind, and said the most +pleasant things; she even pulled off one of her prettiest rings and +gave it to the girl. But I could see that it was an effort for her to +appear interested—her thoughts were with her husband all the time. I +was sure it would end in this way, and I am not in the least surprised. +But what will Mr. Mountjoy say when he opens the letter?" +</P> + +<P> +"Back to her husband!" Fanny repeated. "Oh! what shall we do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me what you mean. What has happened?" +</P> + +<P> +"I must tell you. I thought I would tell Mr. Mountjoy first: but I must +tell you, although—" She stopped. +</P> + +<P> +"Although it concerns my husband. Never mind that consideration—go +on." Fanny told the story from the beginning. +</P> + +<P> +When she had finished, Mrs. Vimpany looked towards the bedroom door. +"Thank God!" she said, "that you told this story to me instead of to +Mr. Mountjoy. At all events, it gives me time to warn you not to tell +him what you have told me. We can do nothing. Meantime, there is one +thing you must do—go away. Do not let Mr. Mountjoy find you here. He +must not learn your story. If he hears what has happened and reads her +letter, nothing will keep him from following her to Passy. He will see +that there is every prospect of her being entangled in this vile +conspiracy, and he will run any risk in the useless attempt to save +her. He is too weak to bear the journey—far too weak for the violent +emotions that will follow; and, oh! how much too weak to cope with my +husband—as strong and as crafty as he is unprincipled! +</P> + +<P> +"Then, what, in Heaven's name, are we to do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Anything—anything—rather than suffer Mr. Mountjoy, in his weak +state, to interfere between man and wife." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—yes—but such a man! Mrs. Vimpany, he was present when the Dane +was poisoned. He <I>knew</I> that the man was poisoned. He sat in the chair, +his face white, and he said nothing. Oh! It was as much as I could do +not to rush out and dash the glass from his hands. Lord Harry said +nothing." +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, do you not understand what you have got to do?" +</P> + +<P> +Fanny made no reply. +</P> + +<P> +"Consider—my husband—-Lord Harry—neither of them knows that you were +present. You can return with the greatest safety; and then whatever +happens, you will be at hand to protect my lady. Consider, again, as +her maid, you can be with her always—in her own room; at night; +everywhere and at all times; while Mr. Mountjoy could only be with her +now and then, and at the price of not quarrelling with her husband." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Fanny. +</P> + +<P> +"And you are strong, and Mr. Mountjoy is weak and ill." +</P> + +<P> +"You think that I should go back to Passy?" +</P> + +<P> +"At once, without the delay of an hour. Lady Harry started last night. +Do you start this evening. She will thus have you with her twenty-four +hours after her arrival." +</P> + +<P> +Fanny rose. +</P> + +<P> +"I will go," she said. "It terrifies me even to think of going back to +that awful cottage with that dreadful man. Yet I will go. Mrs. Vimpany, +I know that it will be of no use. Whatever is going to happen now will +happen without any power of mine to advance or to prevent. I am certain +that my journey will prove useless. But I will go. Yes, I will go this +evening." +</P> + +<P> +Then, with a final promise to write as soon as possible—as soon as +there should be anything to communicate—Fanny went away. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany, alone, listened. From the bedroom came no sound at all. +Mr. Mountjoy slept still. When he should be strong enough it would be +time to let him know what had been done. But she sat +thinking—thinking—even when one has the worst husband in the world, +and very well knows his character, it is disagreeable to hear such a +story as Fanny had told that wife this morning. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap52"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER LII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE DEAD MAN'S PHOTOGRAPH +</H3> + +<P> +"HE is quite dead," said the doctor, with one finger on the man's pulse +and another lifting his eyelid. "He is dead. I did not look for so +speedy an end. It is not half an hour since I left him breathing +peacefully. Did he show signs of consciousness?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir; I found him dead." +</P> + +<P> +"This morning he was cheerful. It is not unusual in these complaints. I +have observed it in many cases of my own experience. On the last +morning of life, at the very moment when Death is standing on the +threshold with uplifted dart, the patient is cheerful and even joyous: +he is more hopeful than he has felt for many months: he thinks—nay, he +is sure—that he is recovering: he says he shall be up and about before +long: he has not felt so strong since the beginning of his illness. +Then Death strikes him, and he falls." He made this remark in a most +impressive manner. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing remains," he said, "but to certify the cause of death and to +satisfy the proper forms and authorities. I charge myself with this +duty. The unfortunate young man belonged to a highly distinguished +family. I will communicate with his friends and forward his papers. One +last office I can do for him. For the sake of his family, nurse, I will +take a last photograph of him as he lies upon his death-bed." Lord +Harry stood in the doorway, listening with an aching and a fearful +heart. He dared not enter the chamber. It was the Chamber of Death. +What was his own part in calling the Destroying Angel who is at the +beck and summons of every man—even the meanest? Call him and he comes. +Order him to strike—and he obeys. But under penalties. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor's prophecy, then, had come true. But in what way and by what +agency? The man was dead. What was his own share in the man's death? He +knew when the Dane was brought into the house that he was brought there +to die. As the man did not die, but began to recover fast, he had seen +in the doctor's face that the man would have to die. He had heard the +doctor prophesy out of his medical knowledge that the man would surely +die; and then, after the nurse had been sent away because her patient +required her services no longer, he had seen the doctor give the +medicine which burned the patient's throat. What was that medicine? Not +only had it burned his throat, but it caused him to fall into a deep +sleep, in which his heart ceased to beat and his blood ceased to flow. +</P> + +<P> +He turned away and walked out of the cottage. For an hour he walked +along the road. Then he stopped and walked back. Ropes drew him; he +could no longer keep away. He felt as if something must have happened. +Possibly he would find the doctor arrested and the police waiting for +himself, to be charged as an accomplice or a principal. +</P> + +<P> +He found no such thing. The doctor was in the salon, with letters and +official forms before him. He looked up cheerfully. +</P> + +<P> +"My English friend," he said, "the unexpected end of this young Irish +gentleman is a very melancholy affair. I have ascertained the name of +the family solicitors and have written to them. I have also written to +his brother as the head of the house. I find also, by examination of +his papers, that his life is insured—the amount is not stated, but I +have communicated the fact of the death. The authorities—they are, +very properly, careful in such matters—have received the necessary +notices and forms: to-morrow, all legal forms having been gone through, +we bury the deceased." +</P> + +<P> +"So soon?" +</P> + +<P> +"So soon? In these eases of advanced pulmonary disease the sooner the +better. The French custom of speedy interment may be defended as more +wholesome than our own. On the other hand, I admit that it has its weak +points. Cremation is, perhaps, the best and only method of removing the +dead which is open to no objections except one. I mean, of course, the +chance that the deceased may have met with his death by means of +poison. But such cases are rare, and, in most instances, would be +detected by the medical man in attendance before or at the time of +death. I think we need not——My dear friend, you look ill. Are you +upset by such a simple thing as the death of a sick man? Let me +prescribe for you. A glass of brandy neat. So," he went into the <I>salle +'a manger</I> and returned with his medicine. "Take that. Now let us +talk." The doctor continued his conversation in a cheerfully scientific +strain, never alluding to the conspiracy or to the consequences which +might follow. He told hospital stories bearing on deaths sudden and +unexpected; some of them he treated in a jocular vein. The dead man in +the next room was a Case: he knew of many similar and equally +interesting Cases. When one has arrived at looking upon a dead man as a +Case, there is little fear of the ordinary human weakness which makes +us tremble in the awful presence of death. +</P> + +<P> +Presently steps were heard outside. The doctor rose and left the +room—but returned in a few minutes. +</P> + +<P> +"The <I>croque-morts</I> have come," he said. "They are with the nurse +engaged upon their business. It seems revolting to the outside world. +To them it is nothing but the daily routine of work. By-the-way, I took +a photograph of his lordship in the presence of the nurse. +Unfortunately—but look at it——" +</P> + +<P> +"It is the face of the dead man"—Lord Harry turned away. "I don't want +to see it. I cannot bear to see it. You forget—I was actually present +when—" +</P> + +<P> +"Not when he died. Come, don't be a fool. What I was going to say was +this: The face is no longer in the least like you. Nobody who ever saw +you once even would believe that this is your face. The creature—he +has given us an unconscionable quantity of trouble—was a little like +you when he first came. I was wrong in supposing that this likeness was +permanent. Now he is dead, he is not in the least like you. I ought to +have remembered that the resemblance would fade away and disappear in +death. Come and look at him." +</P> + +<P> +"No, no." +</P> + +<P> +"Weakness! Death restores to every man his individuality. No two men +are like in death, though they may be like in life. Well. It comes to +this. We are going to bury Lord Harry Norland to-morrow, and we must +have a photograph of him as he lay on his deathbed." +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, my friend, go upstairs to your own room, and I will follow with +the camera." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +In a quarter of an hour he was holding the glass against his sleeve. +</P> + +<P> +"Admirable!" he said. "The cheek a little sunken—that was the effect +of the chalk and the adjustment of the shadows—the eyes closed, the +face white, the hands composed. It is admirable! Who says that we +cannot make the sun tell lies?" +</P> + +<P> +As soon as he could get a print of the portrait, he gave it to Lord +Harry. +</P> + +<P> +"There," he said, "we shall get a better print to-morrow. This is the +first copy." +</P> + +<P> +He had mounted it on a frame of card, and had written under it the name +once borne by the dead man, with the date of his death. The picture +seemed indeed that of a dead man. Lord Harry shuddered. +</P> + +<P> +"There," he said, "everything else has been of no use to us—the +presence of the sick man—the suspicions of the nurse—his death—even +his death—has been of no use to us. We might have been spared the +memory—the awful memory—of this death!" +</P> + +<P> +"You forget, my English friend, that a dead body was necessary for us. +We had to bury somebody. Why not the man Oxbye?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap53"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER LIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE WIFE'S RETURN +</H3> + +<P> +OF course Mrs. Vimpany was quite right. Iris had gone back to her +husband. She arrived, in fact, at the cottage in the evening just +before dark—in the falling day, when some people are more than +commonly sensitive to sights and sounds, and when the eyes are more apt +than at other times to be deceived by strange appearances. Iris walked +into the garden, finding no one there. She opened the door with her own +key and let herself in. The house struck her as strangely empty and +silent. She opened the dining-room door: no one was there. Like all +French dining-rooms, it was used for no other purpose than for eating, +and furnished with little more than the barest necessaries. She closed +the door and opened that of the salon: that also was empty. She called +her husband: there was no answer. She called the name of the cook: +there was no answer. It was fortunate that she did not open the door of +the spare room, for there lay the body of the dead man. She went +upstairs to her husband's room. That too was empty. But there was +something lying on the table—a photograph. She took it up. Her face +became white suddenly and swiftly. She shrieked aloud, then drooped the +picture and fell fainting to the ground. For the photograph was nothing +less than that of her husband, dead in his white graveclothes, his +hands composed, his eyes closed, his cheek waxen. +</P> + +<P> +The cry fell upon the ears of Lord Harry, who was in the garden below. +He rushed into the house and lifted his wife upon the bed. The +photograph showed him plainly what had happened. +</P> + +<P> +She came to her senses again, but seeing her husband alive before her, +and remembering what she had seen, she shrieked again, and fell into +another swoon. +</P> + +<P> +"What is to be done now?" asked the husband. "What shall I tell her? +How shall I make her understand? What can I do for her?" +</P> + +<P> +As for help, there was none: the nurse was gone on some errand; the +doctor was arranging for the funeral of Oxbye under the name of Lord +Harry Norland; the cottage was empty. +</P> + +<P> +Such a fainting fit does not last for ever. Iris came round, and sat +up, looking wildly around. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it?" she cried. "What does it mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"It means, my love, that you have returned to your husband." He laid an +arm round her, and kissed her again and again. +</P> + +<P> +"You are my Harry!—living!—my own Harry?" +</P> + +<P> +"Your own Harry, my darling. What else should I be?" +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me then, what does it mean—that picture—that horrid +photograph?" +</P> + +<P> +"That means nothing—nothing—a freak—a joke of the doctor's. What +could it mean?" He took it up. "Why, my dear, I am living—living and +well. What should this mean but a joke?" +</P> + +<P> +He laid it on the table again, face downwards. But her eyes showed that +she was not satisfied. Men do not make jokes on death; it is a sorry +jest indeed to dress up a man in grave-clothes, and make a photograph +of him as of one dead. +</P> + +<P> +"But you—you, my Iris; you are here—tell me how and why—and when, +and everything? Never mind that stupid picture: tell me." +</P> + +<P> +"I got your letter, Harry," she replied. +</P> + +<P> +"My letter?" he repeated. "Oh! my dear, you got my letter, and you saw +that your husband loved you still." +</P> + +<P> +"I could not keep away from you, Harry, whatever had happened. I stayed +as long as I could. I thought about you day and night. And at last +I—I—I came back. Are you angry with me, Harry?" +</P> + +<P> +"Angry? Good God! my dearest, angry?" He kissed her passionately—not +the less passionately that she had returned at a time so terrible. What +was he to say to her? How was he to tell her? While he showered kisses +on her he was asking himself these questions. When she found out—when +he should confess to her the whole truth—she would leave him again. +Yet he did not understand the nature of the woman who loves. He held +her in his arms; his kisses pleaded for him; they mastered her—she was +ready to believe, to accept, to surrender even her truth and honesty; +and she was ready, though she knew it not, to become the accomplice of +a crime. Rather than leave her husband again, she would do everything. +</P> + +<P> +Yet, Lord Harry felt there was one reservation: he might confess +everything, except the murder of the Dane. No word of confession had +passed the doctor's lips, yet he knew too well that the man had been +murdered; and, so far as the man had been chosen for his resemblance to +himself, that was perfectly useless, because the resemblance, though +striking at the first, had been gradually disappearing as the man Oxbye +grew better; and was now, as we have seen, wholly lost after death. +</P> + +<P> +"I have a great deal—a great deal—to tell you, dear," said the +husband, holding both her hands tenderly. "You will have to be very +patient with me. You must make up your mind to be shocked at first, +though I shall be able to convince you that there was really nothing +else to be done—nothing else at all." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! go on, Harry. Tell me all. Hide nothing." +</P> + +<P> +"I will tell you all," he replied. +</P> + +<P> +"First, where is that poor man whom the doctor brought here and Fanny +nursed? And where is Fanny?" +</P> + +<P> +"The poor man," he replied carelessly, "made so rapid a recovery that +he has got on his legs and gone away—I believe, to report himself to +the hospital whence he came. It is a great triumph for the doctor, +whose new treatment is now proved to be successful. He will make a +grand flourish of trumpets about it. I dare say, if all he claims for +it is true, he has taken a great step in the treatment of lung +diseases." +</P> + +<P> +Iris had no disease of the lungs, and consequently cared very little +for the scientific aspect of the question. +</P> + +<P> +"Where is my maid, then?" +</P> + +<P> +"Fanny? She went away—let me see: to-day is Friday—on Wednesday +morning. It was no use keeping her here. The man was well, and she was +anxious to get back to you. So she started on Wednesday morning, +proposing to take the night boat from Dieppe. She must have stopped +somewhere on the way." +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose she will go to see Mrs. Vimpany. I will send her a line +there." +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly. That will be sure to find her." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Harry, is there anything else to tell me? +</P> + +<P> +"A great deal," he repeated. "That photograph, Iris, which frightened +you so much, has been very carefully taken by Vimpany for a certain +reason." +</P> + +<P> +"What reason?" +</P> + +<P> +"There are occasions," he replied, "when the very best thing that can +happen to a man is the belief that he is dead. Such a juncture of +affairs has happened to myself—and to you—at this moment. It is +convenient—even necessary—for me that the world should believe me +dead. In point of fact, I must be dead henceforth. Not for anything +that I have done, or that I am afraid of—don't think that. No; it is +for the simple reason that I have no longer any money or any resources +whatever. That is why I must be dead. Had you not returned in this +unexpected manner, my dear, you would have heard of my death from the +doctor, and he would have left it to chance to find a convenient +opportunity of letting you know the truth. I am, however, deeply +grieved that I was so careless as to leave that photograph upon the +table." +</P> + +<P> +"I do not understand," she said. "You pretend to be dead?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. I <I>must</I> have money. I have some left—a very little. I <I>must</I> +have money; and, in order to get it, I must be dead." +</P> + +<P> +"How will that help?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, my dear, I am insured, and my insurances will be paid after my +death; but not before." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! must you get money—even by a——" She hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"Call it a conspiracy, my dear, if you please. As there is no other way +whatever left, I must get money that way." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, this is dreadful! A conspiracy, Harry? a—a—fraud?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you please. That is the name which lawyers give to it." +</P> + +<P> +"But oh, Harry!—it is a crime. It is a thing for which men are tried +and found guilty and sentenced." +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly; if they are found out. Meantime, it is only the poor, +ignorant, clumsy fool who gets found out. In the City these things are +done every day. Quite as a matter of course," he added carelessly. "It +is not usual for men to take their wives into confidence, but in this +case I must take you into confidence: I have no choice, as you will +understand directly." +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me, Harry, who first thought of this way?" +</P> + +<P> +"Vimpany, of course. Oh! give him the credit where real cleverness is +concerned. Vimpany suggested the thing. He found me well-nigh as +desperately hard up as he is himself. He suggested it. At first, I +confess, I did not like it. I refused to listen to any more talk about +it. But, you see, when one meets destitution face to face, one will do +anything—everything. Besides, as I will show you, this is not really a +fraud. It is only an anticipation of a few years. However, there was +another reason." +</P> + +<P> +"Was it to find the money to meet the promissory note?" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, you may forget—you may resolve never to throw the thing in +my teeth; but my love for you will never suffer me to forget that I +have lost your little fortune in a doubtful speculation. It is all gone, +never to be recovered again; and this after I had sworn never to touch +a farthing of it. Iris!"—he started to his feet and walked about the +room as one who is agitated by emotion—"Iris! I could face +imprisonment for debt, I could submit to pecuniary ruin, for that +matter; the loss of money would not cause me the least trouble, but I +cannot endure to have ruined you." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! Harry, as if I mind. Everything that I have is yours. When I gave +you myself I gave all. Take—use—lose it all. As you think, I should +never <I>feel</I> reproach, far less utter a word of blame. Dearest Harry, +if that is all—" +</P> + +<P> +"No; it is the knowledge that you will not even feel reproach that is +my constant accuser. At my death you will get all back again. But I am +not old; I may live for many, many years to come. How can I wait for my +own death when I can repair this wickedness by a single stroke?" +</P> + +<P> +"But by another wickedness—and worse." +</P> + +<P> +"No—not another crime. Remember that this money is mine. It will come +to my heirs some day, as surely as to-morrow's sun will rise. Sooner or +later it will be mine; I will make it sooner, that is all. The +Insurance Company will lose nothing but the paltry interest for the +remainder of my life. My dear, if it is disgraceful to do this I will +endure disgrace. It is easier to bear that than constant self-reproach +which I feel when I think of you and the losses I have inflicted upon +you." +</P> + +<P> +Again he folded her in his arms; he knelt before her; he wept over her. +Carried out of herself by this passion, Iris made no more resistance. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it—is it," she asked timidly, "too late to draw back?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is too late," he replied, thinking of the dead man below. "It is +too late. All is completed." +</P> + +<P> +"My poor Harry! What shall we do? How shall we live? How shall we +contrive never to be found out?" +</P> + +<P> +She would not leave him, then. She accepted the situation. He was +amazed at the readiness with which she fell; but he did not understand +how she was ready to cling to him, for better for worse, through worse +evils than this; nor could he understand how things formerly impossible +to her had been rendered possible by the subtle deterioration of the +moral nature, when a woman of lofty mind at the beginning loves and is +united to a man of lower nature and coarser fibre than herself. Only a +few months before, Iris would have swept aside these sophistrics with +swift and resolute hand. Now she accepted them. +</P> + +<P> +"You have fallen into the doctor's hands, dear," she said. "Pray Heaven +it brings us not into worse evils! What can I say? it is through love +of your wife—through love of your wife—oh! husband!" she threw +herself into his arms, and forgave everything and accepted everything. +Henceforth she would be—though this she knew not—the willing +instrument of the two conspirators. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap54"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER LIV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ANOTHER STEP +</H3> + +<P> +"I HAVE left this terrible thing about once too often already," and +Lord Harry took it from the table. "Let me put it in a place of +safety." +</P> + +<P> +He unlocked a drawer and opened it. "I will put it here," he said. +"Why"—as if suddenly recollecting something—"here is my will. I shall +be leaving that about on the table next. Iris, my dear, I have left +everything to you. All will be yours." He took out the document. "Keep +it for me, Iris. It is yours. You may as well have it now, and then I +know, in your careful hands, it will be quite safe. Not only is +everything left to you, but you are the sole executrix." +</P> + +<P> +Iris took the will without a word. She understood, now, what it meant. +If she was the sole executrix she would have to act. If everything was +left to her she would have to receive the money. Thus, at a single +step, she became not only cognisant of the conspiracy, but the chief +agent and instrument to carry it out. +</P> + +<P> +This done, her husband had only to tell her what had to be done at +once, in consequence of her premature arrival. He had planned, he told +her, not to send for her—not to let her know or suspect anything of +the truth until the money had been paid to the widow by the Insurance +Company. As things had turned out, it would be best for both of them to +leave Passy at once—that very evening—before her arrival was known by +anybody, and to let Vimpany carry out the rest of the business. He was +quite to be trusted—he would do everything that was wanted. "Already," +he said, "the Office will have received from the doctor a notification +of my death. Yesterday evening he wrote to everybody—to my +brother—confound him!—and to the family solicitor. Every moment that +I stay here increases the danger of my being seen and recognised—after +the Office has been informed that I am dead." +</P> + +<P> +"Where are we to go?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have thought of that. There is a little quiet town in Belgium where +no English people ever come at all. We will go there, then we will take +another name; we will be buried to the outer world, and will live, for +the rest of our lives, for ourselves alone. Do you agree?" +</P> + +<P> +"I will do, Harry, whatever you think best." +</P> + +<P> +"It will be for a time only. When all is ready, you will have to step +to the front—the will in your hand to be proved—to receive what is +due to you as the widow of Lord Harry Norland. You will go back to +Belgium, after awhile, so as to disarm suspicion, to become once more +the wife of William Linville." +</P> + +<P> +Iris sighed heavily, Then she caught her husband's eyes gathering with +doubt, and she smiled again. +</P> + +<P> +"In everything, Harry," she said, "I am your servant. When shall we +start?" +</P> + +<P> +"Immediately. I have only to write a letter to the doctor. Where is +your bag? Is this all? Let me go first to see that no one is about. +Have you got the will? Oh! it is here—yes—in the bag. I will bring +along the bag." +</P> + +<P> +He ran downstairs, and came up quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"The nurse has returned," he said. "She is in the spare room." +</P> + +<P> +"What nurse?" +</P> + +<P> +"The nurse who came after Fanny left. The man was better, but the +doctor thought it wisest to have a nurse to the end," he explained +hurriedly, and she suspected nothing till afterwards. "Come down +quietly—go out by the back-door—she will not see you." So Iris +obeyed. She went out of her own house like a thief, or like her own +maid Fanny, had she known. She passed through the garden, and out of +the garden into the road. There she waited for her husband. +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry sat down and wrote a letter. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Dear Doctor," he said, "while you are arranging things outside an +unexpected event has happened inside. Nothing happens but the +unexpected. My wife has come back. It is the most unexpected event of +any. Anything else might have happened. Most fortunately she has not +seen the spare bedroom, and has no idea of its contents. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"At this point reassure yourself. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"My wife has gone. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"She found on the table your first print of the negative. The sight of +this before she saw me threw her into some kind of swoon, from which, +however, she recovered. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"I have explained things to a certain point. She understands that Lord +Harry Norland is deceased. She does not understand that it was +necessary to have a funeral; there is no necessity to tell her of that. +I think she understands that she must not seem to have been here. +Therefore she goes away immediately. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"The nurse has not seen her. No one has seen her. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"She understands, further, that as the widow, heir, and executrix of +Lord Harry she will have to prove his will, and to receive the money +due to him by the Insurance Company. She will do this out of love for +her husband. I think that the persuasive powers of a certain person +have never yet been estimated at their true value. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Considering the vital importance of getting her out of the place +before she can learn anything of the spare bedroom, and of getting me +out of the place before any messenger can arrive from the London +office, I think you will agree with me that I am right in leaving +Passy—and Paris—with Lady Harry this very afternoon. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"You may write to William Linville, Poste-Restante, Louvain, Belgium. I +am sure I can trust you to destroy this letter. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Louvain is a quiet, out-of-the-way place, where one can live quite +separated from all old friends, and very cheaply. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Considering the small amount of money that I have left, I rely upon +you to exercise the greatest economy. I do not know how long it may be +before just claims are paid up—perhaps in two months—perhaps in +six—but until things are settled there will be tightness. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"At the same time it will not be difficult, as soon as Lady Harry goes +to London, to obtain some kind of advance from the family solicitor on +the strength of the insurance due to her from her late husband. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"I am sorry, dear doctor, to leave you alone over the obsequies of this +unfortunate gentleman. You will also have, I hear, a good deal of +correspondence with his family. You may, possibly, have to see them in +England. All this you will do, and do very well. Your bill for medical +attendance you will do well to send in to the widow. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"One word more. Fanny Mere, the maid, has gone to London; but she has +not seen Lady Harry. As soon as she hears that her mistress has left +London she will be back to Passy. She may come at any moment. I think +if I were you I would meet her at the garden gate and send her on. It +would be inconvenient if she were to arrive before the funeral. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear doctor, I rely on your sense, your prudence, and your +capability.—Yours very sincerely, +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Your ENGLISH FRIEND." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +He read this letter very carefully. Nothing in it he thought the least +dangerous, and yet something suggested danger. However, he left it; he +was obliged to caution and warn the doctor, and he was obliged to get +his wife away as quietly as possible. +</P> + +<P> +This done, he packed up his things and hurried off to the station, and +Passy saw him no more. +</P> + +<P> +The next day the mortal remains of Lord Harry Norland were lowered into +the grave. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap55"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER LV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE ADVENTURES OF A FAITHFUL MAID +</H3> + +<P> +IT was about five o'clock on Saturday afternoon. The funeral was over. +The unfortunate young Irish gentleman was now lying in the cemetery of +Auteuil in a grave purchased in perpetuity. His name, age, and rank +were duly inscribed in the registers, and the cause of his death was +vouched for by the English physician who had attended him at the +request of his family. He was accompanied, in going through the +formalities, by the respectable woman who had nursed the sick man +during his last seizure. Everything was perfectly in order. The +physician was the only mourner at the funeral. No one was curious about +the little procession. A funeral, more or less, excites no attention. +</P> + +<P> +The funeral completed, the doctor gave orders for a single monument to +be put in memory of Lord Harry Norland, thus prematurely cut off. He +then returned to the cottage, paid and dismissed the nurse, taking her +address in case he should find an opportunity, as he hoped, to +recommend her among his numerous and distinguished clientele, and +proceeded to occupy himself in setting everything in order before +giving over the key to the landlord. First of all he removed the +medicine bottles from the cupboard with great care, leaving nothing. +Most of the bottles he threw outside into the dust-hole; one or two he +placed in a fire which he made for the purpose in the kitchen: they +were shortly reduced to two or three lumps of molten glass. These +contained, no doubt, the mysteries and secrets of Science. Then he went +into every room and searched in every possible place for any letters or +papers which might have been left about. Letters left about are always +indiscreet, and the consequences of an indiscretion may be far-reaching +and incalculable. Satisfied at last that the place was perfectly +cleared, he sat down in the salon and continued his business +correspondence with the noble family and the solicitors. Thus engaged, +he heard footsteps outside, footsteps on the gravel, footsteps on the +doorstop. He got up, not without the slightest show of nervousness, and +opened the door. Lord Harry was right. There stood the woman who had +been his first nurse—the woman who overheard and watched—the woman +who suspected. The suspicion and the intention of watching were legible +in her eyes still. She had come back to renew her watch. +</P> + +<P> +In her hand she carried her box, which she had lugged along from the +place where the omnibus had deposited her. She made as if she were +stepping in; but the big form of the doctor barred the way. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" he said carelessly, "it is you. Who told you to come back?" +</P> + +<P> +"Is my mistress at home?" +</P> + +<P> +"No; she is not." He made no movement to let her pass. +</P> + +<P> +"I will come in, please, and wait for her." +</P> + +<P> +He still stood in the way. +</P> + +<P> +"What time will she return?" +</P> + +<P> +"Have you heard from her?" +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"Did she leave orders that you were to follow her?" +</P> + +<P> +"No; none that I received. I thought—" +</P> + +<P> +"Servants should never think. They should obey." +</P> + +<P> +"I know my duty, Dr. Vimpany, without learning it from you. Will you +let me pass?" +</P> + +<P> +He withdrew, and she entered. +</P> + +<P> +"Come in, by all means," he said, "if you desire my society for a short +time. But you will not find your mistress here." +</P> + +<P> +"Not here! Where is she, then?" +</P> + +<P> +"Had you waited in London for a day or two you would, I dare say, have +been informed. As it is, you have had your journey for nothing." +</P> + +<P> +"Has she not been here?" +</P> + +<P> +"She has not been here." +</P> + +<P> +"Dr. Vimpany," said the woman, driven to desperation, "I don't believe +you! I am certain she has been here. What have you done with her?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you believe me? That is sad, indeed. But one cannot always help +these wanderings. You do not believe me? Melancholy, truly!" +</P> + +<P> +"You may mock as much as you like. Where is she?" +</P> + +<P> +"Where, indeed?" +</P> + +<P> +"She left London to join his lordship. Where is he? +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know. He who would answer that question would be a wise man +indeed." +</P> + +<P> +"Can I see him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly not. He has gone away. On a long journey. By himself." +</P> + +<P> +"Then I shall wait for him. Here!" she added with decision. "In this +house!" +</P> + +<P> +"By all means." +</P> + +<P> +She hesitated. There was an easy look about the doctor which she did +not like. +</P> + +<P> +"I believe," she said, "that my mistress is in the house. She must be +in the house. What are you going to do with her? I believe you have put +her somewhere." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed!" +</P> + +<P> +"You would do anything! I will go to the police." +</P> + +<P> +"If you please." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! doctor, tell me where she is!" +</P> + +<P> +"You are a faithful servant: it is good, in these days, to find a woman +so zealous on account of her mistress. Come in, good and faithful. +Search the house all over. Come in—what are you afraid of? Put down +your box, and go and look for your mistress." Fanny obeyed. She ran +into the house, opened the doors of the salon and the dining-room one +after the other: no one was there. She ran up the stairs and looked +into her mistress's room: nothing was there, not even a ribbon or a +hair-pin, to show the recent presence of a woman. She looked into Lord +Harry's room. Nothing was there. If a woman leaves hairpins about, a +man leaves his toothbrush: nothing at all was there. Then she threw +open the armoire in each room: nothing behind the doors. She came +downstairs slowly, wondering what it all meant. +</P> + +<P> +"May I look in the spare room?" she asked, expecting to be roughly +refused. +</P> + +<P> +"By all means—by all means," said the doctor, blandly. "You know your +way about. If there is anything left belonging to your mistress or to +you, pray take it." +</P> + +<P> +She tried one more question. +</P> + +<P> +"How is my patient? How is Mr. Oxbye?" +</P> + +<P> +"He is gone." +</P> + +<P> +"Gone? Where has he gone to? Gone?" +</P> + +<P> +"He went away yesterday—Friday. He was a grateful creature. I wish we +had more such grateful creatures as well as more such faithful +servants. He said something about finding his way to London in order to +thank you properly. A good soul, indeed!" +</P> + +<P> +"Gone?" she repeated. "Why, on Thursday morning I saw him—" She +checked herself in time. +</P> + +<P> +"It was on Wednesday morning that you saw him, and he was then +recovering rapidly." +</P> + +<P> +"But he was far too weak to travel." +</P> + +<P> +"You may be quite certain that I should not have allowed him to go away +unless he was strong enough." +</P> + +<P> +Fanny made no reply. She had seen with her own eyes the man lying still +and white, as if in death; she had seen the new nurse rushing off, +crying that he was dead. Now she was told that he was quite well, and +that he had gone away! But it was no time for thought. +</P> + +<P> +She was on the point of asking where the new nurse was, but she +remembered in time that it was best for her to know nothing, and to +awaken no suspicions. She opened the door of the spare room and looked +in. Yes; the man was gone—dead or alive—and there were no traces left +of his presence. The place was cleared up; the cupboard stood with open +doors, empty; the bed was made; the curtain pushed back; the sofa was +in its place against the wall; the window stood open. Nothing in the +room at all to show that there had been an occupant only two days +before. She stared blankly. The dead man was gone, then. Had her senses +altogether deceived her? Was he not dead, but only sleeping? Was her +horror only a thing of imagination? Behind her, in the hall, stood the +doctor, smiling, cheerful. +</P> + +<P> +She remembered that her first business was to find her mistress. She +was not connected with the Dane. She closed the door and returned to +the hall. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," asked the doctor, "have you made any discoveries? You see that +the house is deserted. You will perhaps learn before long why. Now what +will you do? Will you go back to London?" +</P> + +<P> +"I must find her ladyship." +</P> + +<P> +The doctor smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"Had you come here in a different spirit," he said, "I would have +spared you all this trouble. You come, however, with suspicion written +on your face. You have always been suspecting and watching. It may be +in a spirit of fidelity to your mistress; but such a spirit is not +pleasing to other people, especially when there is not a single person +who bears any resentment towards that mistress. Therefore, I have +allowed you to run over the empty house, and to satisfy your suspicious +soul. Lady Harry is not hidden here. As for Lord Harry—but you will +hear in due time no doubt. And now I don't mind telling you that I have +her ladyship's present address." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! What is it?" +</P> + +<P> +"She appears to have passed through Paris on her way to Switzerland two +days ago, and has sent here her address for the next fortnight. She has +now, I suppose, arrived there. The place is Berne; the Hotel ——. But +how do I know that she wants you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course she wants me." +</P> + +<P> +"Or of course you want her? Very good. Yours is the responsibility, not +mine. Her address is the Hotel d'Angleterre. Shall I write it down for +you? There it is. 'Hotel d'Angleterre, Berne.' Now you will not forget. +She will remain there for one fortnight only. After that, I cannot say +whither she may go. And, as all her things have been sent away, and as +I am going away, I am not likely to hear." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh I must go to her. I must find her!" cried the woman earnestly; "if +it is only to make sure that no evil is intended for her." +</P> + +<P> +"That is your business. For my own part, I know of no one who can wish +her ladyship any evil." +</P> + +<P> +"Is my lord with her?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know whether that is your business. I have already told you +that he is gone. If you join your mistress in Berne, you will very soon +find out if he is there as well." Something in his tone made Fanny look +up quickly. But his face revealed nothing. "What shall you do then?" +asked the doctor. "You must make up your mind quickly whether you will +go back to England or whether you will go on to Switzerland. You cannot +stay here, because I am putting together the last things, and I shall +give the landlord the key of the house this evening. All the bills are +paid, and I am going to leave the place." +</P> + +<P> +"I do not understand. There is the patient," she murmured vaguely. +"What does it mean? I cannot understand." +</P> + +<P> +"My good creature," he replied roughly, "what the devil does it matter +to me whether you understand or whether you do not understand? Her +ladyship is, as I have told you, at Berne. If you please to follow her +there, do so. It is your own affair, not mine. If you prefer to go back +to London, do so. Still—your own affair. Is there anything else to +say?" +</P> + +<P> +Nothing. Fanny took up her box—this time the doctor did not offer to +carry it for her. +</P> + +<P> +"Where are you going?" he asked. "What have you decided?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can get round by the Chemin de Fer de Ceinture to the Lyons station. +I shall take the first cheap train which will take me to Berne." +</P> + +<P> +"Bon voyage!" said the doctor, cheerfully, and shut the door. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +It is a long journey from Paris to Berne even for those who can travel +first class and express—that is, if sixteen hours can be called a long +journey. For those who have to jog along by third class, stopping at +all the little country stations, it is a long and tedious journey +indeed. The longest journey ends at last. The train rolled slowly into +the station of Berne, and Fanny descended with her box. Her wanderings +were over for the present. She would find her mistress and be at rest. +</P> + +<P> +She asked to be directed to the Hotel d'Angleterre. The Swiss guardian +of the peace with the cocked hat stared at her. She repeated the +question. +</P> + +<P> +"Hotel d'Angleterre?" he echoed. "There is no Hotel d'Angleterre in +Berne." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, yes; there is. I am the maid of a lady who is staying at that +hotel." +</P> + +<P> +"No; there is no Hotel d'Angleterre," he reported. "There is the Hotel +Bernehof." +</P> + +<P> +"No." She took out the paper and showed it to him—"Lady Harry Norland, +Hotel d'Angleterre, Berne." +</P> + +<P> +"There is the Hotel de Belle Vue, the Hotel du Faucon, the Hotel +Victoria, the Hotel Schweizerhof. There is the Hotel schrodel, the +Hotel Schneider, the Pension Simkin." +</P> + +<P> +Fanny as yet had no other suspicion than that the doctor had +accidentally written a wrong name. Her mistress was at Berne: she would +be in one of the hotels. Berne is not a large place. Very good; she +would go round to the hotels and inquire. She did so. There are not, in +fact, more than half a dozen hotels in Berne where an English lady +could possibly stay. Fanny went to every one of these. No one had heard +of any such lady: they showed her the lists of their visitors. She +inquired at the post-office. No lady of that name had asked for +letters. She asked if there were any pensions, and went round them +all—uselessly. +</P> + +<P> +No other conclusion was possible. The doctor had deceived her wilfully. +To get her out of the way he sent her to Berne. He would have sent her +to Jericho if her purse had been long enough to pay the fare. She was +tricked. +</P> + +<P> +She counted her money. There was exactly twenty-eight shillings and +tenpence in her purse. +</P> + +<P> +She went back to the cheapest (and dirtiest) of the pensions she had +visited. She stated her case—she had missed milady her mistress—she +must stay until she should receive orders to go on, and money—would +they take her in until one or the other arrived? Certainly. They would +take her in, at five francs a day, payable every morning in advance. +</P> + +<P> +She made a little calculation—she had twenty-eight and tenpence; +exactly thirty-five francs—enough for seven days. If she wrote to Mrs. +Vimpany at once she could get an answer in five days. +</P> + +<P> +She accepted the offer, paid her five shillings, was shown into a room, +and was informed that the dinner was served at six o'clock. +</P> + +<P> +Very good. Here she could rest, at any rate, and think what was to be +done. And first she wrote two letters—one to Mrs. Vimpany and one to +Mr. Mountjoy. +</P> + +<P> +In both of these letters she told exactly what she had found: neither +Lord Harry nor his wife at the cottage, the place vacated, and the +doctor on the point of going away. In both letters she told how she had +been sent all the way into Switzerland on a fool's errand, and now +found herself planted there without the means of getting home. In the +letter to Mrs. Vimpany she added the remarkable detail that the man +whom she had seen on the Thursday morning apparently dead, whose actual +poisoning she thought she had witnessed, was reported on the Saturday +to have walked out of the cottage, carrying his things, if he had any, +and proposing to make his way to London in order to find out his old +nurse. "Make what you can out of that," she said. "For my own part, I +understand nothing." +</P> + +<P> +In the letter which she wrote to Mr. Mountjoy she added a petition that +he would send her money to bring her home. This, she said, her mistress +she knew would willingly defray. +</P> + +<P> +She posted these letters on Tuesday, and waited for the answers. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany wrote back by return post. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"My dear Fanny," she said, "I have read your letter with the greatest +interest. I am not only afraid that some villainy is afloat, but I am +perfectly sure of it. One can only hope and pray that her ladyship may +be kept out of its influence. You will be pleased to hear that Mr. +Mountjoy is better. As soon as he was sufficiently recovered to stand +the shock of violent emotion, I put Lady Harry's letter into his hands. +It was well that I had kept it from him, for he fell into such a +violence of grief and indignation that I thought he would have had a +serious relapse. 'Can any woman,' he cried, 'be justified in going back +to an utterly unworthy husband until he has proved a complete change? +What if she had received a thousand letters of penitence? Penitence +should be shown by acts, not words: she should have waited.' He wrote +her a letter, which he showed me. 'Is there,' he asked, 'anything in +the letter which could justly offend her?' I could find nothing. He +told her, but I fear too late, that she risks degradation—perhaps +worse, if there is anything worse—if she persists in returning to her +unworthy husband. If she refuses to be guided by his advice, on the +last occasion on which he would presume to offer any device, he begged +that she would not answer. Let her silence say—No. That was the +substance of his letter. Up to the present moment no answer has been +received from Lady Harry. Nor has he received so much as an +acknowledgment of the letter. What can be understood by this silence? +Clearly, refusal. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"You must return by way of Paris, though it is longer than by Basle and +Laon. Mr. Mountjoy, I know, will send you the money you want. He has +told me as much. 'I have done with Lady Harry,' he said. 'Her movements +no longer concern me, though I can never want interest in what she +does. But since the girl is right to stick to her mistress, I will send +her the money—not as a loan to be paid back by Iris, but as a gift +from myself.' +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Therefore, my dear Fanny, stop in Paris for one night at least, and +learn what has been done if you can. Find out the nurse, and ask her +what really happened. With the knowledge that you already possess, it +will be hard, indeed, if we cannot arrive at the truth. There must be +people who supplied things to the cottage—the restaurant, the +<I>pharmacien,</I> the laundress. See them all—you know them already, and +we will put the facts together. As for finding her ladyship, that will +depend entirely upon herself. I shall expect you back in about a week. +If anything happens here I shall be able to tell you when you arrive. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Yours affectionately, +<BR> +L. Vimpany." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +This letter exactly coincided with Fanny's own views. The doctor was +now gone. She was pretty certain that he was not going to remain alone +in the cottage; and the suburb of Passy, though charming in many ways, +is not exactly the place for a man of Dr. Vimpany's temperament. She +would stay a day, or even two days or more, if necessary, at Passy. She +would make those inquiries. +</P> + +<P> +The second letter, which reached her the same day, was from Mr. +Mountjoy. He told her what he had told Mrs. Vimpany: he would give her +the money, because he recognised the spirit of fidelity which caused +Fanny to go first to Paris and then to Berne. +</P> + +<P> +But he could not pretend to any right to interference in the affairs of +Lord and Lady Harry Norland. He enclosed a <I>mandat postal</I> for a +hundred and twenty-five francs, which he hoped would be sufficient for +her immediate wants. +</P> + +<P> +She started on her return-journey on the same day—namely, Saturday. On +Sunday evening she was in a pension at Passy, ready to make those +inquiries. The first person whom she sought out was the <I>rentier</I>—the +landlord of the cottage. He was a retired tradesman—one who had made +his modest fortune in a <I>charcuterie</I> and had invested it in house +property. Fanny told him that she had been lady's-maid to Lady Harry +Norland, in the recent occupancy of the cottage, and that she was +anxious to know her present address. +</P> + +<P> +"Merci, mon Dieu! que sais-je? What do I know about it?" he replied. +"The wife of the English milord is so much attached to her husband that +she leaves him in his long illness—" +</P> + +<P> +"His long illness?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly—Mademoiselle is not, perhaps, acquainted with the +circumstances—his long illness; and does not come even to see his dead +body after he is dead. There is a wife for you—a wife of the English +fashion!" +</P> + +<P> +Fanny gasped. +</P> + +<P> +"After he is dead! Is Lord Harry dead? When did he die?" +</P> + +<P> +"But, assuredly, Mademoiselle has not heard? The English milord died on +Thursday morning, a week and more ago, of consumption, and was buried +in the cemetery of Auteuil last Saturday. Mademoiselle appears +astonished." +</P> + +<P> +"En effet, Monsieur, I am astonished." +</P> + +<P> +"Already the tombstone is erected to the memory of the unhappy young +man, who is said to belong to a most distinguished family of Ireland. +Mademoiselle can see it with her own eyes in the cemetery." +</P> + +<P> +"One word more, Monsieur. If Monsieur would have the kindness to tell +her who was the nurse of milord in his last seizure?" +</P> + +<P> +"But certainly. All the world knows the widow La Chaise. It was the +widow La Chaise who was called in by the doctor. Ah! there is a +man—what a man! What a miracle of science! What devotion to his +friend! What admirable sentiments! Truly, the English are great in +sentiments when their insular coldness allows them to speak. This widow +can be found—easily found." +</P> + +<P> +He gave Fanny, in fact, the nurse's address. Armed with this, and +having got out of the landlord the cardinal fact of Lord Harry's +alleged death, the lady's-maid went in search of this respectable +widow. +</P> + +<P> +She found her, in her own apartments, a respectable woman indeed, +perfectly ready to tell everything that she knew, and evidently quite +unsuspicious of anything wrong. She was invited to take charge of a +sick man on the morning of Thursday: she was told that he was a young +Irish lord, dangerously ill of a pulmonary disorder; the doctor, in +fact, informed her that his life hung by a thread, and might drop at +any moment, though on the other hand he had known such cases linger on +for many months. She arrived as she had been ordered, at midday: she +was taken into the sick-room by the doctor, who showed her the patient +placidly sleeping on a sofa: the bed had been slept in, and was not yet +made. After explaining the medicines which she was to administer, and +the times when they were to be given, and telling her something about +his diet, the doctor left her alone with the patient. +</P> + +<P> +"He was still sleeping profoundly," said the nurse. +</P> + +<P> +"You are sure that he was sleeping, and not dead?" asked Fanny, +sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"Mademoiselle, I have been a nurse for many years. I know my duties. +The moment the doctor left me I verified his statements. I proved that +the patient was sleeping by feeling his pulse and observing his +breath." +</P> + +<P> +Fanny made no reply. She could hardly remind this respectable person +that after the doctor left her she employed herself first in examining +the cupboards, drawers, <I>armoire,</I> and other things; that she then +found a book with pictures, in which she read for a quarter of an hour +or so; that she then grew sleepy and dropped the book— +</P> + +<P> +"I then," continued the widow, "made arrangements against his +waking—that is to say, I drew back the curtains and turned over the +sheet to air the bed"—O Madame! Madame! Surely this was +needless!—"shook up the pillows, and occupied myself in the cares of a +conscientious nurse until the time came to administer the first dose of +medicine. Then I proceeded to awaken my patient. Figure to yourself! He +whom I had left tranquilly breathing, with the regularity of a +convalescent rather than a dying man, was dead! He was dead!" +</P> + +<P> +"You are sure he was dead?" +</P> + +<P> +"As if I had never seen a dead body before! I called the doctor, but it +was for duty only, for I knew that he was dead." +</P> + +<P> +"And then?" +</P> + +<P> +"Then the doctor—who must also have known that he was dead—felt his +pulse and his heart, and looked at his eyes, and declared that he was +dead." +</P> + +<P> +"And then?" +</P> + +<P> +"What then? If a man is dead he is dead. You cannot restore him to +life. Yet one thing the doctor did. He brought a camera and took a +photograph of the dead man for the sake of his friends." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! he took a photograph of—of Lord Harry Norland. What did he do +that for?" +</P> + +<P> +"I tell you: for the sake of his friends." +</P> + +<P> +Fanny was more bewildered than ever. Why on earth should the doctor +want a photograph of the Dane Oxbye to show the friends of Lord Harry? +Could he have made a blunder as stupid as it was uncalled for? No one +could possibly mistake the dead face of that poor Dane for the dead +face of Lord Harry. +</P> + +<P> +She had got all the information she wanted—all, in fact, that was of +any use to her. One thing remained. She would see the grave. +</P> + +<P> +The cemetery of Auteuil is not so large as that of Pere-la-Chaise, nor +does it contain so many celebrated persons as the latter—perhaps the +greatest cemetery, as regards its illustrious dead, in the whole world. +It is the cemetery of the better class. The tombs are not those of +Immortals but of Respectables. +</P> + +<P> +Among them Fanny easily found, following the directions given to her, +the tomb she was searching after. +</P> + +<P> +On it was written in English, "Sacred to the Memory of Lord Harry +Norland, second son of the Marquis of Malven." Then followed the date +and the age, and nothing more. +</P> + +<P> +Fanny sat down on a bench and contemplated this mendacious stone. +</P> + +<P> +"The Dane Oxbye," she said, "was growing better fast when I went away. +That was the reason why I was sent away. The very next day the doctor, +thinking me far away, poisoned him. I saw him do it. The nurse was told +that he was asleep, and being left alone presently discovered that he +was dead. She has been told that the sick man is a young Irish +gentleman. He is buried under the name of Lord Harry. That is the +reason I found the doctor alone. And my lady? Where is she?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap56"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER LVI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +FANNY'S NARRATIVE +</H3> + +<P> +FANNY returned to London. Partly, the slenderness of her resources gave +her no choice; partly, she had learned all there was to learn, and +would do no good by staying longer at Passy. +</P> + +<P> +She arrived with thirty shillings left out of Mr. Mountjoy's timely +gift. She sought a cheap lodging, and found a room, among people who +seemed respectable, which she could have for four-and-sixpence a week, +with board at a shilling a day. This settled, she hastened to Mr. +Mountjoy's hotel brimful of her news for Mrs. Vimpany. +</P> + +<P> +Everyone knows the disappointment when the one person in the world whom +you want at the moment to see and to talk with proves to be out. Then +the news has to be suppressed; the conclusions, the suspicions, the +guesses have to be postponed; the active brain falls back upon itself. +</P> + +<P> +This disappointment—almost as great as that at Berne—was experienced +by Fanny Mere at the hotel. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Mountjoy was no longer there. +</P> + +<P> +The landlady of the hotel, who knew Fanny, came out herself and told +her what had happened. +</P> + +<P> +"He was better," she said, "but still weak. They sent him down to +Scotland in Mrs. Vimpany's care. He was to travel by quick or slow +stages, just as he felt able. And I've got the address for you. Here it +is. Oh! and Mrs. Vimpany left a message. Will you, she says, when you +write, send the letter to her and not to him? She says, you know why." +</P> + +<P> +Fanny returned to her lodging profoundly discouraged. She was filled +with this terrible secret that she had discovered. The only man who +could advise at this juncture was Mr. Mountjoy, and he was gone. And +she knew not what had become of her mistress. What could she do? The +responsibility was more than she could bear. +</P> + +<P> +The conversation with the French nurse firmly established one thing in +her mind. The man who was buried in the cemetery of Auteuil with the +name of Lord Harry Norland on a headstone, the man who had lingered so +long with pulmonary disease, was the man whose death she had witnessed. +It was Oxbye the Dane. Of that there could be no doubt. Equally there +was no doubt in her own mind that he had been poisoned by the +doctor—by Mrs. Vimpany's husband—in the presence and, to all +appearance, with the consent and full knowledge of Lord Harry himself. +Then her mistress was in the power of these two men—villains who had +now added murder to their other crimes. As for herself, she was alone, +almost friendless; in a week or two she would be penniless. If she told +her tale, what mischief might she not do? If she was silent, what +mischief might not follow? +</P> + +<P> +She sat down to write to the only friend she had. But her trouble froze +her brain. She had not been able to put the case plainly. Words failed +her. +</P> + +<P> +She was not at any time fluent with her pen. She now found herself +really unable to convey any intelligible account of what had happened. +To state clearly all that she knew so that the conclusion should be +obvious and patent to the reader would have been at all times +difficult, and was now impossible. She could only confine herself to a +simple vague statement. "I can only say that from all I have seen and +heard I have reasons for believing that Lord Harry is not dead at all." +She felt that this was a feeble way of summing up, but she was not at +the moment equal to more. "When I write again, after I have heard from +you, I will tell you more. To-day I cannot. I am too much weighed down. +I am afraid of saying too much. Besides, I have no money, and must look +for work. I am not anxious, however, about my own future, because my +lady will not forsake me. I am sure of that. It is my anxiety about her +and the dreadful secrets I have learned which give me no rest." +</P> + +<P> +Several days passed before the answer came. And then it was an answer +which gave her little help. "I have no good news for you," she said. +"Mr. Mountjoy continues weak. Whatever your secret, I cannot ask you to +communicate it to him in his present condition. He has been grieved and +angry beyond all belief by Lady Harry's decision to rejoin her husband. +It is hard to understand that a man should be so true a friend and so +constant a lover. Yet he has brought himself to declare that he has +broken off all friendly relations with her. He could no longer endure +London. It was associated with thoughts and memories of her. In spite +of his weak condition, he insisted on coming down here to his Scotch +villa. Ill as he was, he would brook no delay. We came down by very +easy stages, stopping at Peterborough, York, Durham, Newcastle, and +Berwick—at some places for one night, and others for more. In spite of +all my precautions, when we arrived at the villa he was dangerously +exhausted. I sent for the local doctor, who seems to know something. At +all events, he is wise enough to understand that this is not a case for +drugs. Complete rest and absence from all agitating thoughts must be +aimed at. Above all, he is not to see the newspapers. That is +fortunate, because, I suppose, Lord Harry's death has been announced in +them, and the thought that his former mistress is a widow might excite +him very dangerously. You will now understand why I left that message +at the hotel for you, and why I have not shown him your letter. I told +him, it is true, that you had returned without finding your mistress. +'Speak no more to me of Lady Harry,' he replied irritably. So I have +said no more. As for money, I have a few pounds by me, which are at +your service. You can repay me at some future time. I have thought of +one thing—that new Continental paper started by Lord Harry. Wherever +she may be, Lady Harry is almost sure to see that. Put an advertisement +in it addressed to her, stating that you have not heard of her address, +but that you yourself will receive any letter sent to some post-office +which you can find. I think that such an advertisement will draw a +reply from her, unless she desires to remain in seclusion." +</P> + +<P> +Fanny thought the suggestion worth adopting. After careful +consideration, she drew up an advertisement:— +</P> + +<P> +"Fanny H. to L—H—. I have not been able to ascertain your address. +Please write to me, at the Post Office, Hunter Street, London, W.C." +</P> + +<P> +She paid for the insertion of this advertisement three times on +alternate Saturdays. They told her that this would be a more likely way +than to take three successive Saturdays. Then, encouraged by the +feeling that something, however little, had been done, she resolved to +sit down to write out a narrative in which she would set down in order +everything that had happened—exactly as it had happened. Her intense +hatred and suspicion of Dr. Vimpany aided her, strange to say, to keep +to the strictest fidelity as regards the facts. For it was not her +desire to make up charges and accusations. She wanted to find out the +exact truth, and so to set it down that anybody who read her statement +would arrive at the same conclusion as she herself had done. In the +case of an eye-witness there are thousands of things which cannot be +produced in evidence which yet are most important in directing and +confirming suspicions. The attitude, the voice, the look of a speaker, +the things which he conceals as well as the things which he +reveals—all these are evidence. But these Fanny was unable to set +down. Therefore it behoved her to be strictly careful. +</P> + +<P> +First, she stated how she became aware that there was some secret +scheme under consideration between Lord Harry and the doctor. Next, she +set down the fact that they began to talk French to each other, +thinking that she could not understand them; that they spoke of +deceiving Lady Harry by some statement which had already deceived the +authorities; that the doctor undertook to get the lady out of the +house; that they engaged herself as nurse to a sick man; that she +suspected from the beginning that their design was to profit in some +way by the death of this sick than, who bore a slight resemblance to +Lord Harry himself. And so on, following the story as closely as she +could remember, to the death of the Dane and her own subsequent +conversation with the nurse. She was careful to put in the dates, day +after day. When she had done all this—it took a good deal of time—she +bought a manuscript book and copied it all out. This enabled her to +remember two or three facts which had escaped her at the beginning. +Then she made another copy this time without names of people or place. +The second copy she forwarded as a registered letter to Mrs. Vimpany, +with a letter of which this was the conclusion: "Considering, +therefore, that on Wednesday morning I left Lord Harry in perfect +health; considering that on the Thursday morning I saw the man who had +been ill so long actually die—how, I have told you in the packet +enclosed; considering that the nurse was called in purposely to attend +a patient who was stated to have long been ill—there can be no doubt +whatever that the body in the cemetery is that of the unfortunate Dane, +Oxbye; and that, somewhere or other, Lord Harry is alive and well. +</P> + +<P> +"What have they done it for? First of all, I suppose, to get money. If +it were not for the purpose of getting money the doctor would have had +nothing to do with the conspiracy, which was his own invention. That is +very certain. Your idea was they would try to get money out of the +Insurance Offices. I suppose that is their design. But Lord Harry may +have many other secret reasons of his own for wishing to be thought +dead. They say his life has been full of wicked things, and he may well +wish to be considered dead and gone. Lots of wicked men would like +above all things, I should think, to be considered dead and buried. But +the money matter is at the bottom of all, I am convinced. What are we +to do?" +</P> + +<P> +What could they do? These two women had got hold of a terrible secret. +Neither of them could move. It was too big a thing. One cannot expect a +woman to bring her own husband—however wicked a husband he may be—to +the awful shame and horror of the gallows if murder should be +proved—or to a lifelong imprisonment if the conspiracy alone should be +brought home to him. Therefore Mrs. Vimpany could do nothing. As for +Fanny, the mere thought of the pain she would inflict upon her +mistress, were Lord Harry, through her interference, to be brought to +justice and an infamous sentence, kept her quiet. +</P> + +<P> +Meantime, the announcement of Lord Harry's death had been made. Those +who knew the family history spoke cheerfully of the event. "Best timing +he had ever done. Very good thing for his people. One more bad lot out +of the way. Dead, Sir, and a very good thing, too. Married, I believe. +One of the men who have done everything. Pity they can't write a life +of him." These were the comments made upon the decease of this young +gentleman. Such is fame. Next day he was clean forgotten; just as if he +had never existed. Such is life. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap57"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER LVII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +AT LOUVAIN +</H3> + +<P> +NOT many English tourists go out of their way to visit Louvain, even +though it has a Hotel de Ville surpassing even that of Brussels itself, +and though one can get there in an hour from that city of youth and +pleasure. And there are no English residents at all in the place—at +least, none in evidence, though perhaps there may be some who have gone +there for the same reasons which led Mr. William Linville and his wife +to choose this spot—in order to be private and secluded. There are +many more people than we know of who desire, above all things, +seclusion and retirement, and dread nothing so much as a chance meeting +with an old friend. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. William Linville took a small house, furnished, like the cottage at +Passy, and, also like that little villa, standing in its own garden. +Here, with a cook and a maid, Iris set up her modest <I>menage.</I> To ask +whether she was happy would be absurd. At no time since her marriage +had she been happy; to live under the condition of perpetual +concealment is not in itself likely to make a woman any the happier. +Fortunately she had no time to experience the full bitterness of the +plan proposed by her husband. +</P> + +<P> +Consider. Had their scheme actually been carried out quite +successfully, this pair, still young, would have found themselves +condemned to transportation for life. That was the first thing. Next, +they could never make any friends among their own countrymen or +countrywomen for fear of discovery. Iris could never again speak to an +English lady. If they had children the risk would appear ten times more +terrible, the consequences ten times more awful. The children +themselves would have to grow up without family and without friends. +The husband, cut off from intercourse with other men, would be thrown +back upon himself. Husband and wife, with this horrible load laid upon +them, would inevitably grow to loathe and hate the sight of each other. +The man would almost certainly take to drink: the woman—but we must +not follow this line any further. The situation lasted only so long as +to give the wife a glimpse of what it might become in the future. +</P> + +<P> +They took their house, and sat down in it. They were very silent. Lord +Harry, his great <I>coup</I> successfully carried so far, sat taciturn and +glum. He stayed indoors all day, only venturing out after dark. For a +man whose whole idea of life was motion, society, and action, this +promised ill. +</P> + +<P> +The monotony was first broken by the arrival of Hugh's letter, which +was sent in with other documents from Passy. Iris read it; she read it +again, trying to understand exactly what it meant. Then she tore it up. +"If he only knew," she said, "he would not have taken the trouble even +to write this letter. There is no answer, Hugh. There can be none—now. +Act by your advice? Henceforth, I must act by order. I am a +conspirator." +</P> + +<P> +Two days afterwards came a letter from the doctor. He did not think it +necessary to say anything about Fanny's appearance or her journey to +Borne. "Everything," he wrote, "has so far gone well. The world knows, +through the papers, that Lord Harry is dead. There will be now only the +business of claiming the money. For this purpose, as his widow is the +sole heiress and executrix, it will be necessary for her to place the +will and the policies of insurance in the hands of her husband's +lawyers, so that the will may be proved and the claims duly made. Forms +will have to be signed. The medical certificate of death and the forms +attesting the burial are already in the lawyers' hands. The sooner the +widow goes to London the better. She should write to announce her +arrival, and she should write from Paris as if she had been staying +there after her husband's death. +</P> + +<P> +"I have only to remind you, my dear Linville, that you are indebted to +me in a good round sum. Of course, I shall be very pleased to receive a +cheque for this sum in full as soon as you have touched the amount due +to you. I shall be in Paris, at the Hotel Continental, where you may +address me. Naturally, there is no desire for concealment, and if the +Insurance Companies desire any information from me I am always ready +and willing to afford it." +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry gave this letter to his wife. +</P> + +<P> +She read it, and laid it open in her lap. +</P> + +<P> +"Must it be, Harry? Oh! must it be?" +</P> + +<P> +"There is no other way possible, dear. But really, it is nothing. You +were not at Passy when your husband died. You had been in London—you +were in Brussels—anywhere; when you arrived it was all over; you have +seen his headstone. Dr. Vimpany had him in his care; you knew he was +ill, but you thought it was a trifling matter which time would cure; +you go to the lawyers and present the will. They have the policies, and +will do everything else; you will not even have to sign anything. The +only thing that you must do is to get a complete rig-out of widow's +weeds. Mind—there will not be the slightest doubt or question raised. +Considering everything, you will be more than justified in seeing no +one and going nowhere." +</P> + +<P> +Hugh's letter breaking in upon her fool's paradise had awakened the +poor woman to her better self; she had gone so far with the fraud as to +acquiesce in it; but she recoiled with horror and shame when this +active part was forced upon her. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Harry!"—she burst into tears. "I cannot—I cannot. You ask me to +be a liar and a thief—oh! heavens!—a vile thief! +</P> + +<P> +"It is too late, Iris! We are all vile thieves. It is too late to begin +crying now." +</P> + +<P> +"Harry"—she threw herself upon her knees—"spare me! Let some other +woman go, and call herself your widow. Then I will go away and hide +myself." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't talk nonsense, Iris," he replied roughly. "I tell you it is far +too late. You should have thought of this before. It is now all +arranged." +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot go," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"You must go; otherwise, all our trouble may prove useless." +</P> + +<P> +"Then I will not go!" she declared, springing to her feet. "I will not +degrade myself any further. I will not go!" +</P> + +<P> +Harry rose too. He faced her for a moment. His eyes dropped. Even he +remembered, at that moment, how great must be the fall of a woman who +would consent to play such a part. +</P> + +<P> +"You shall not go," he said, "unless you like. You can leave me to the +consequences of my own acts—to my own degradation. Go back to England. +In one thing only spare me. Do not tell what you know. As for me, I +will forge a letter from you—" +</P> + +<P> +"Forge a letter!" +</P> + +<P> +"It is the only way left open, giving the lawyers authority to act, and +inclosing the will. What will happen next? By whose hands the money is +to reach me I know not yet. But you can leave me, Iris. Better that you +should leave me—I shall only drag you lower." +</P> + +<P> +"Why must you forge the letter? Why not come with me somewhere—the +world is large!—to some place where you are not known, and there let +us begin a new life? We have not much money, but I can sell my watches +and chains and rings, and we shall have enough. O Harry! for once be +guided—listen to me! We shall find some humble manner of living, and +we may be happy yet. There is no harm done if you have only pretended +to be dead; nobody has been injured or defrauded—" +</P> + +<P> +"Iris, you talk wildly! Do you imagine, for one moment, that the doctor +will release me from my bargain?" +</P> + +<P> +"What bargain?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why—of course he was to be paid for the part he has taken in the +business. Without him it could never have been done at all." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—yes—it was in the letter that you gave me," she said, conscious +that such agreements belonged to works of fiction and to police courts. +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly I have to pay him a good large slice out of the money." +</P> + +<P> +"It is fifteen thousand pounds, is it not? How much is to be paid to +the—to the doctor?" +</P> + +<P> +"We agreed that he was to have the half," said Lord Harry, laughing +lightly. "But as I thought that seven thousand five hundred pounds was +a sum of money which would probably turn his head and bring him to +starvation in a year or two, I told him that the whole amount was four +thousand pounds. Therefore he is to have two thousand pounds for his +share. And quite enough too." +</P> + +<P> +"Treachery on treachery!" said his wife. "Fraud on fraud! Would to +GOD," she added with a sigh, "that you had never met this man!" +</P> + +<P> +"I dare say it would have been better for me, on the whole," he +replied. "But then, my dear, a man like myself is always meeting people +whom it would have been better not to have met. Like will to like, I +suppose. Given the active villain and the passive consenter, and they +are sure to meet. Not that I throw stones at the worthy doctor. Not at +all." +</P> + +<P> +"We cannot, Harry," said his wife. +</P> + +<P> +"We cannot, my dear. <I>Bien entendu!</I> Well, Iris, there is no more to be +said. You know the situation completely. You can back out of it if you +please, and leave me. Then I shall have to begin all over again a new +conspiracy far more dangerous than the last. Well, I shall not drag you +down with me. That is my resolution. If it comes to public +degradation—but it shall not. Iris, I promise you one thing." For once +he looked as if he meant it. "Death before dishonour. Death without +your name being mixed up at all, save with pity for being the wife of +such a man." +</P> + +<P> +Again he conquered her. +</P> + +<P> +"Harry," she said, "I will go." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap58"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER LVIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +OF COURSE THEY WILL PAY +</H3> + +<P> +THREE days afterwards a hansom cab drove to the offices of the very +respectable firm of solicitors who managed the affairs of the Norland +family. They had one or two other families as well, and in spite of +agricultural depression, they made a very good thing indeed out of a +very comfortable business. The cab contained a lady in deep widow's +weeds. +</P> + +<P> +Lady Harry Norland expected to be received with coldness and suspicion. +Her husband, she knew, had not led the life expected in these days of a +younger son. Nor had his record been such as to endear him to his elder +brother. Then, as may be imagined, there were other tremors, caused by +a guilty knowledge of certain facts which might by some accident "come +out." Everybody has tremors for whom something may come out. Also, Iris +had had no experience of solicitors, and was afraid of them. +</P> + +<P> +Instead of being received, however, by a gentleman as solemn as the +Court of Chancery and as terrible as the Court of Assize, she found an +elderly gentleman, of quiet, paternal manners, who held both her hands, +and looked as if he was weeping over her bereavement. By long practice +this worthy person could always, at a moment's notice, assume the +appearance of one who was weeping with his client. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear lady!" he murmured. "My dear lady! This is a terrible time for +you." +</P> + +<P> +She started. She feared that something had come out. +</P> + +<P> +"In the moment of bereavement, too, to think of business." +</P> + +<P> +"I have brought you," she replied curtly, "my husband's—my late +husband's—will." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you. With your permission—though it may detain your ladyship—I +will read it. Humph! it is short and to the point. This will certainly +give us little trouble. I fear, however, that, besides the insurances, +your ladyship will not receive much." +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing. My husband was always a poor man, as you know. At the time of +his death he left a small sum of money only. I am, as a matter of fact, +greatly inconvenienced." +</P> + +<P> +"Your ladyship shall be inconvenienced no longer. You must draw upon +us. As regards Lord Harry's death, we are informed by Dr. Vimpany, who +seems to have been his friend as well as his medical adviser—" +</P> + +<P> +"Dr. Vimpany had been living with him for some time." +</P> + +<P> +—"that he had a somewhat protracted illness?" +</P> + +<P> +"I was away from my husband. I was staying here in London—on +business—for some time before his death. I was not even aware that he +was in any danger. When I hurried back to Passy I was too late. My +husband was—was already buried." +</P> + +<P> +"It was most unfortunate. And the fact that his lordship was not on +speaking terms with the members of his own family—pray understand that +I am not expressing any opinion on the case—but this fact seems to +render his end more unhappy." +</P> + +<P> +"He had Dr. Vimpany," said Iris, in a tone which suggested to the +lawyer jealousy or dislike of the doctor. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he said, "it remains to prove the will and to make our claims +against the Insurance Office. I have the policy here. His lordship was +insured in the Royal Unicorn Life Insurance Company for the sum +of 15,000 pounds. We must not expect to have this large claim satisfied +quite immediately. Perhaps the office will take three months to settle. +But, as I said before, your ladyship can draw upon us." +</P> + +<P> +"You are certain that the Company will pay?" +</P> + +<P> +"Assuredly. Why not? They must pay." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! I thought that perhaps so large a sum—" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear Madam"—the man who administered so much real and personal +property smiled—"fifteen thousand pounds is not what we call a very +large sum. Why, if an Insurance Company refused to pay a lawful claim +it would cut its own throat—absolutely. Its very existence depends +upon its meeting all just and lawful claims. The death being proved it +remains for the Company to pay the insurance into the hands of the +person entitled to receive it. That is, in this case, to me, acting for +you." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—I see—but I thought that, perhaps, my husband having died abroad +there might be difficulty—" +</P> + +<P> +"There might, if he had died in Central Africa. But he died in a suburb +of Paris, under French law, which, in such matters, is even more +careful and exacting than our own. We have the official papers, and the +doctor's certificate. We have, besides, a photograph of the unfortunate +gentleman lying on his death-bed—this was well thought of: it is an +admirable likeness—the sun cannot lie—we have also a photograph of +the newly erected tombstone. Doubt? Dear me, Madam, they could no more +raise a doubt as to your husband's death than if he were buried in the +family vault. If anything should remove any ground for doubt, it is the +fact that the only person who benefits by his death is yourself. If, on +the other hand, he had been in the hands of persons who had reason to +wish for his death, there might have been suspicions of foul play, +which would have been matter for the police—but not for an insurance +company." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! I am glad to learn, at least, that there will be no trouble. I +have no knowledge of business, and I thought that—" +</P> + +<P> +"No—no—your ladyship need have no such ideas. In fact, I have already +anticipated your arrival, and have sent to the manager of the company. +He certainly went so far as to express a doubt as to the cause of +death. Consumption in any form was not supposed to be in your husband's +family. But Lord Harry—ahem!—tried his constitution—tried his +constitition, as I put it." +</P> + +<P> +He had put it a little differently. What he said was to the following +effect—"Lord Harry Norland, sir, was a devil. There was nothing he did +not do. I only wonder that he has lived so long. Had I been told that +he died of everything all together, I should not have been surprised. +Ordinary rapid consumption was too simple for such a man." +</P> + +<P> +Iris gave the lawyer her London address, obeyed him by drawing a +hundred pounds, half of which she sent to Mr. William Linville, at +Louvain, and went home to wait. She must now stay in London until the +claim was discharged. +</P> + +<P> +She waited six weeks. At the end of that time she learned from her +solicitors that the company had settled, and that they, the lawyers, +had paid to her bankers the sum of 15,000 pounds being the whole of the +insurance. +</P> + +<P> +Acting, then, on her husband's instructions, she sought another bank +and opened an account for one William Linville, gentleman, residing +abroad. She gave herself as a reference, left the usual signature of +William Linville, and paid to his account a cheque for 8,000 pounds. +She saw the manager of her own bank, explained that this large cheque +was for an investment, and asked him to let her have 2,000 pounds in +bank notes. This sum, she added, was for a special purpose. The manager +imagined that she was about to perform some act of charity, perhaps an +expiatory work on behalf of her late husband. +</P> + +<P> +She then wrote to Dr. Vimpany, who was in Paris, making an appointment +with him. Her work of fraud and falsehood was complete. +</P> + +<P> +"There has been no trouble at all," she wrote to her husband; "and +there will not be any. The insurance company has already settled the +claim. I have paid 8,000 pounds to the account of William Linville. My +own banker—who knows my father—believes that the money is an +investment. My dear Harry, I believe that, unless the doctor begins to +worry us—which he will do as soon as his money is all gone—a clear +course lies before us. Let us, as I have already begged you to do, go +straight away to some part of America, where you are certain not to be +known. You can dye your hair and grow a beard to make sure. Let us go +away from every place and person that may remind us of time past. +Perhaps, in time, we may recover something of the old peace and—can it +ever be?—the old self-respect." +</P> + +<P> +There was going to be trouble, however, and that of a kind little +expected, impossible to be guarded against. And it would be trouble +caused by her own act and deed. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap59"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER LIX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE CONSEQUENCES OF AN ADVERTISEMENT +</H3> + +<P> +THE trouble was made by Iris herself. +</P> + +<P> +In this way— +</P> + +<P> +She saw Fanny's advertisement. Her first impulse was to take her back +into her service. But she remembered the necessity for concealment. She +must not place herself—she realised already the fact that she had done +a thing which would draw upon her the vengeance of the law—and her +husband in the power of this woman, whose fidelity might not stand the +shock of some fit of jealousy, rage, or revenge for fancied slight. She +must henceforth be cut off altogether from all her old friends. +</P> + +<P> +She therefore answered the letter by one which contained no address, +and which she posted with her own hand at the General Post Office. She +considered her words carefully. She must not say too much or too +little. +</P> + +<P> +"I enclose," she said, "a bank note for ten pounds to assist you. I am +about to travel abroad, but must, under existing circumstances, +dispense with the services of a maid. In the course of my travels I +expect to be in Brussels. If, therefore, you have anything to tell me +or to ask of me, write to me at the Poste Restante of that city, and in +the course of six mouths or so I am tolerably sure to send for the +letter. In fact, I shall expect to find a letter from you. Do not think +that I have forgotten you or your faithful services, though for a +moment I am not able to call you to my side. Be patient." +</P> + +<P> +There was no address given in the letter. This alone was mysterious. If +Lady Harry was in London and the letter was posted at the General Post +Office—why should she not give her address? If she was abroad, why +should she hide her address? In any case, why should she do without a +maid—she who had never been without a maid—to whom a maid was as +necessary as one of her hands? Oh! she could never get along at all +without a maid. As for Iris's business in London and her part in the +conspiracy, of course Fanny neither knew nor suspected. +</P> + +<P> +She had recourse again to her only friend—Mrs. Vimpany—to whom she +sent Lady Harry's letter, and imploring her to lay the whole before Mr. +Mountjoy. +</P> + +<P> +"He is getting so much stronger," Mrs. Vimpany wrote back, "that I +shall be able to tell him every thing before long. Do not be in a +hurry. Let us do nothing that may bring trouble upon her. But I am sure +that something is going on—something wicked. I have read your account +of what has happened over and over again. I am as convinced as you +could possibly be that my husband and Lord Harry are trading on the +supposed death of the letter. We can do nothing. Let us wait." +</P> + +<P> +Three days afterwards she wrote again. +</P> + +<P> +"The opportunity for which I have been waiting has come at last. Mr. +Mountjoy is, I believe, fully recovered. This morning, seeing him so +well and strong, I asked him if I might venture to place in his hands a +paper containing a narrative. +</P> + +<P> +"'Is it concerning Iris?' he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"'It has to do with Lady Harry—indirectly.' +</P> + +<P> +"For a while he made no reply. Then he asked me if it had also to do +with her husband. +</P> + +<P> +"'With her husband and with mine,' I told him. +</P> + +<P> +"Again he was silent. +</P> + +<P> +"After a bit he looked up and said, 'I had promised myself never again +to interfere in Lady Harry Norland's affairs. You wish me to read this +document, Mrs. Vimpany?" +</P> + +<P> +"'Certainly; I am most anxious that you should read it and should +advise upon it.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Who wrote it?' +</P> + +<P> +"'Fanny Mere, Lady Harry's maid.' +</P> + +<P> +"'If it is only to tell me that her husband is a villain,' he said, 'I +will not read it.' +</P> + +<P> +"'If you were enabled by reading it to keep Lady Harry from a dreadful +misfortune?' I suggested. +</P> + +<P> +"'Give me the document,' he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Before I gave it to him—it was in my pocket—I showed him a newspaper +containing a certain announcement. +</P> + +<P> +"'Lord Harry dead?' he cried. 'Impossible! Then Iris is free.' +</P> + +<P> +"'Perhaps you will first read the document.' I drew it out of my +pocket, gave it to him, and retired. He should be alone while he read +it. +</P> + +<P> +"Half an hour afterwards I returned. I found him in a state of the most +violent agitation, without, however, any of the weakness which he +betrayed on previous occasions. +</P> + +<P> +"'Mrs. Vimpany,' he cried, 'this is terrible! There is no doubt—not +the least doubt—in my mind that the man Oxbye is the man buried under +the name of Lord Harry, and that he was murdered—murdered in cold +blood—by that worst of villains——' +</P> + +<P> +"'My husband,' I said. +</P> + +<P> +"'Your husband—most unfortunate of wives! As for Lord Harry's share in +the murder, it is equally plain that he knew of it, even if he did not +consent to it. Good heavens! Do you understand? Do you realise what +they have done? Your husband and Iris's husband may be tried—actually +tried—for murder and put to a shameful death. Think of it!' +</P> + +<P> +"'I do think of it, Heaven knows! I think of it every day—I think of +it all day long. But, remember, I will say nothing that will bring this +fate upon them. And Fanny will say nothing. Without Fanny's evidence +there cannot be even a suspicion of the truth.' +</P> + +<P> +"'What does Iris know about it?' +</P> + +<P> +"'I think that she cannot know anything of the murder. Consider the +dates. On Wednesday Fanny was dismissed; on Thursday she returned +secretly and witnessed the murder. It was on Thursday morning that Lady +Harry drove to Victoria on her return to Passy, as we all supposed, and +as I still suppose. On Saturday Funny was back again. The cottage was +deserted. She was told that the man Oxbye had got up and walked away; +that her mistress had not been at the house at all, but was travelling +in Switzerland; and that Lord Harry was gone on a long journey. And she +was sent into Switzerland to get her out of the way. I gather from all +this that Lady Harry was taken away by her husband directly she +arrived—most likely by night—and that of the murder she knew +nothing.' +</P> + +<P> +"'No—no—she could know nothing! That, at least, they dared not tell +her. But about the rest? How much does she know? How far has she lent +herself to the conspiracy? Mrs. Vimpany, I shall go back to London +to-night. We will travel by the night train. I feel quite strong +enough.' +</P> + +<P> +"I began this letter in Scotland; I finish it in London. +</P> + +<P> +"We are back again in town. Come to the hotel at once, and see us." +</P> + +<P> +So, there was now a Man to advise. For once, Fanny was thankful for the +creation of Man. To the most misanthropic female there sometimes comes +a time when she must own that Man has his uses. These two women had now +got a Man with whom to take counsel. +</P> + +<P> +"I do not ask you," said Mr. Mountjoy, with grave face, "how far this +statement of yours is true: I can see plainly that it is true in every +particular." +</P> + +<P> +"It is quite true, sir; every word of it is true. I have been tempted +to make out a worse case against the doctor, but I have kept myself to +the bare truth." +</P> + +<P> +"You could not make out a worse case against any man. It is the +blackest case that I ever heard of or read. It is the foulest murder. I +do not understand the exact presence of Lord Harry when the medicine +was given. Did he see the doctor administer it? Did he say anything?" +</P> + +<P> +"He turned white when the doctor told him that the man was going to +die—that day, perhaps, or next day. When the doctor was pouring out +the medicine he turned pale again and trembled. While the doctor was +taking the photograph he trembled again. I think, sir—I really +think—that he knew all along that the man was going to die, but when +it came to the moment, he was afraid. If it had depended on him, Oxbye +would be alive still." +</P> + +<P> +"He was a consenting party. Well; for the moment both of you keep +perfect silence. Don't discuss the timing with each other lest you +should be overheard: bury the thing. I am going to make some +inquiries." +</P> + +<P> +The first thing was to find out what steps had been taken, if any, with +insurance companies. For Iris's sake his inquiry had to be conducted +quite openly. His object must seem none other than the discovery of +Lady Harry Norland's present address. When bankers, insurance +companies, and solicitors altogether have to conduct a piece of +business it is not difficult to ascertain such a simple matter. +</P> + +<P> +He found out the name of the family solicitor, he went to the office, +sent in his card, and stated his object. As a very old friend of Lady +Harry's, he wanted to learn her address. He had just come up from +Scotland, where he had been ill, and had only just learned her terrible +bereavement. +</P> + +<P> +The lawyer made no difficulty at all. There was no reason why he +should. Lady Harry had been in London; she was kept in town for nearly +two months by business connected with the unfortunate event; but she +had now gone—she was travelling Switzerland or elsewhere. As for her +address, a letter addressed to his care should be forwarded on hearing +from her ladyship. +</P> + +<P> +"Her business, I take it, was the proving of the will and the +arrangement of the property." +</P> + +<P> +"That was the business which kept her in town." +</P> + +<P> +"Lady Harry," Mr. Mountjoy went on, "had a little property of her own +apart from what she may ultimately get from her father. About five +thousand pounds—not more." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed? She did not ask my assistance in respect of her own property." +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose it is invested and in the hands of trustees. But, indeed, I +do not know. Lord Harry himself, I have heard, was generally in a +penniless condition. Were there any insurances?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; happily there was insurance paid for him by the family. Otherwise +there would have been nothing for the widow." +</P> + +<P> +"And this has been paid up, I suppose?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; it has been paid into her private account." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you," said Mr. Mountjoy. "With your permission, I will address a +letter to Lady Harry here. Will you kindly order it to be forwarded at +the very earliest opportunity?" +</P> + +<P> +"Iris," he thought, "will not come to London any more. She has been +persuaded by her husband to join in the plot. Good heavens! She has +become a swindler—a conspirator—-a fraudulent woman! Iris!—it is +incredible—it is horrible! What shall we do?" +</P> + +<P> +He first wrote a letter, to the care of the lawyers. He informed her +that he had made a discovery of the highest importance to herself—he +refrained from anything that might give rise to suspicion; he implored +her to give him an interview anywhere, in any part of the world—alone, +he told her that the consequences of refusal might be fatal—absolutely +fatal—to her future happiness: he conjured her to believe that he was +anxious for nothing but her happiness: that he was still, as always, +her most faithful friend. +</P> + +<P> +Well; he could do no more. He had not the least expectation that his +letter would do any good; he did not even believe that it would reach +Iris. The money was received and paid over to her own account. There +was really no reason at all why she should place herself again in +communication with these lawyers. What would she do, then? One thing +only remained. With her guilty husband, this guilty woman must remain +in concealment for the rest of their days, or until death released her +of the man who was pretending to be dead. At the best, they might find +some place where there would be no chance of anybody ever finding them +who knew either of them before this wicked thing was done. +</P> + +<P> +But could she know of the murder? +</P> + +<P> +He remembered the instruction given to Fanny. She was to write to +Brussels. Let her therefore write at once. He would arrange what she +was to say. Under his dictation, therefore, Fanny wrote as follows:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"My Lady,—I have received your ladyship's letter, and your kind gift +of ten pounds. I note your directions to write to you at Brussels, and +I obey them. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Mr. Mountjoy, who has been ill and in Scotland, has come back to +London. He begs me to tell you that he has had an interview with your +lawyers, and has learned that you have been in town on business, the +nature of which he has also learned. He has left an important letter +for you at their office. They will forward it as soon as they learn +your address. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Since I came back from Passy I have thought it prudent to set down in +writing an exact account of everything that happened there under my own +observation. Mr. Mountjoy has read my story, and thinks that I ought +without delay to send a copy of it to you. I therefore send you one, in +which I have left out all the names, and put in A, B, and C instead, by +his directions. He says that you will have no difficulty in filling up +the names. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"I remain, my dear Lady, +<BR> +"Your ladyship's most obedient and humble servant, +<BR> +"FANNY MERE." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +This letter, with the document, was dispatched to Brussels that night. +And this is the trouble which Iris brought upon herself by answering +Fanny's advertisement. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap60"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER LX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ON THE EVE OF A CHANGE +</H3> + +<P> +IRIS returned to Louvain by way of Paris. She had to settle up with the +doctor. +</P> + +<P> +He obeyed her summons and called upon her at the hotel. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, my lady," he began in his gross voice, rubbing his hands and +laughing, "it has come off, after all; hasn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not desire, Dr. Vimpany, to discuss anything with you. We will +proceed to settle what business we have together." +</P> + +<P> +"To think that your ladyship should actually fall in!" he replied. "Now +I confess that this was to me the really difficult part of the job. It +is quite easy to pretend that a man is dead, but not so easy to touch +his money. I really do not see how we could have managed at all without +your co-operation. Well, you've had no difficulty, of course?" +</P> + +<P> +"None at all." +</P> + +<P> +"I am to have half." +</P> + +<P> +"I am instructed to give you two thousand pounds. I have the money here +for you." +</P> + +<P> +"I hope you consider that I deserve this share?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think, Dr. Vimpany, that whatever you get in the future or the +present you will richly deserve. You have dragged a man down to your +own level—" +</P> + +<P> +"And a woman too." +</P> + +<P> +"A woman too. Your reward will come, I doubt not." +</P> + +<P> +"If it always takes the form of bank-notes I care not how great the +reward may be. You will doubtless, as a good Christian, expect your own +reward—for him and for you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have mine already," she replied sadly. "Now, Dr. Vimpany, let me pay +you, and get rid of your company." +</P> + +<P> +He counted the money carefully and put it in the banker's bag in his +coat-pocket. "Thank you, my lady. We have exchanged compliments enough +over this job." +</P> + +<P> +"I hope—I pray—that we may never set eyes on you again." +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot say. People run up against each other in the strangest +manner, especially people who've done shady things and have got to keep +in the background." +</P> + +<P> +"Enough!—enough!" +</P> + +<P> +"The background of the world is a very odd place, I assure you. It is +full of interesting people. The society has a piquancy which you will +find, I hope, quite charming. You will be known by another name, of +course?" +</P> + +<P> +"I shall not tell you by what name—" +</P> + +<P> +"Tut—tut! I shall soon find out. The background gets narrower when you +fall into misery." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"I mean, Lady Harry, that your husband has no idea whatever as to the +value of money. The two thousand that you are taking him will vanish in +a year or two. What will you do then? As for myself, I know the value +of money so well that I am always buying the most precious and +delightful things with it. I enjoy them immensely. Never any man +enjoyed good things so much as I do. But the delightful things cost +money. Let us be under no illusions. Your ladyship and your noble +husband and I all belong to the background; and in a year or two we +shall belong to the needy background. I daresay that very soon after +that the world will learn that we all belong to the criminal +background. I wish your ladyship a joyful reunion with your husband!" +</P> + +<P> +He withdrew, and Iris set eyes on him no more. But the prophecy with +which he departed remained with her, and it was with a heart foreboding +fresh sorrows that she left Paris and started for Louvain. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Here began the new life—that of concealment and false pretence. Iris +put off her weeds, but she never ventured abroad without a thick veil. +Her husband, discovering that English visitors sometimes ran over from +Brussels to see the Hotel de Ville, never ventured out at all till +evening. They had no friends and no society of any kind. +</P> + +<P> +The house, which stood secluded behind a high wall in its garden, was +in the quietest part of this quiet old city; no sound of life and work +reached it; the pair who lived there seldom spoke to each other. Except +at the midday breakfast and the dinner they did not meet. Iris sat in +her own room, silent; Lord Harry sat in his, or paced the garden walks +for hours. +</P> + +<P> +Thus the days went on monotonously. The clock ticked; the hours struck; +they took meals; they slept; they rose and dressed; they took meals +again—this was all their life. This was all that they could expect for +the future. +</P> + +<P> +The weeks went on. For three months Iris endured this life. No news +came to her from the outer world; her husband had even forgotten the +first necessary of modern life—the newspaper. It was not the ideal +life of love, apart from the world, where the two make for themselves a +Garden of Eden; it was a prison, in which two were confined together +who were kept apart by their guilty secret. +</P> + +<P> +They ceased altogether to speak; their very meals were taken in +silence. The husband saw continual reproach in his wife's eyes; her sad +and heavy look spoke more plainly than any words, "It is to this that +you have brought me." +</P> + +<P> +One morning Iris was idly turning over the papers in her desk. There +were old letters, old photographs, all kinds of trifling treasures that +reminded her of the past—a woman keeps everything; the little +mementoes of her childhood, her first governess, her first school, her +school friendships—everything. As Iris turned over these things her +mind wandered back to the old days. She became again a young +girl—innocent, fancy free; she grew up—she was a woman innocent +still. Then her mind jumped at one leap to the present, and she saw +herself as she was—innocent no longer, degraded and guilty, the vile +accomplice of a vile conspiracy. +</P> + +<P> +Then, as one who has been wearing coloured glasses puts them off and +sees things in their own true colours, she saw how she had been pulled +down by a blind infatuation to the level of the man who had held her in +his fascination; she saw him as he was—reckless, unstable, careless of +name and honour. Then for the first time she realised the depths into +which she was plunged and the life which she was henceforth doomed to +lead. The blind love fell from her—it was dead at last; but it left +her bound to the man by a chain which nothing could break; she was in +her right senses; she saw things as they were; but the knowledge came +too late. +</P> + +<P> +Her husband made no attempt to bridge over the estrangement which had +thus grown up between them: it became wider every day; he lived apart +and alone; he sat in his own room, smoking more cigars, drinking more +brandy-and-water than was good for him; sometimes he paced the gravel +walks in the garden; in the evening, after dinner, he went out and +walked about the empty streets of the quiet city. Once or twice he +ventured into a cafe, sitting in a corner, his hat drawn over his eyes; +but that was dangerous. For the most part he kept in the streets, and +he spoke to no one. +</P> + +<P> +Meantime the autumn had given place to winter, which began in wet and +dreary fashion. Day and night the rain fell, making the gravel walks +too wet and the streets impossible. Then Lord Harry sat in his room and +smoked all day long. And still the melancholy of the one increased, and +the boredom of the other. +</P> + +<P> +He spoke at last. It was after breakfast. +</P> + +<P> +"Iris," he said, "how long is this to continue?" +</P> + +<P> +"This—what?" +</P> + +<P> +"This life—this miserable solitude and silence." +</P> + +<P> +"Till we die," she replied. "What else do you expect? You have sold our +freedom, and we must pay the price." +</P> + +<P> +"No; it shall end. I will end it. I can endure it no longer." +</P> + +<P> +"You are still young. You will perhaps have forty years more to +live—all like this—as dull and empty. It is the price we must pay." +</P> + +<P> +"No," he repeated, "it shall end. I swear that I will go on like this +no longer." +</P> + +<P> +"You had better go to London and walk in Piccadilly to get a little +society." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you care what I do or where I go?" +</P> + +<P> +"We will not reproach each other, Harry." +</P> + +<P> +"Why—what else do you do all day long but reproach me with your gloomy +looks and your silence?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well—end it if you can. Find some change in the life." +</P> + +<P> +"Be gracious for a little, and listen to my plan. I have made a plan. +Listen, Iris. I can no longer endure this life. It drives me mad." +</P> + +<P> +"And me too. That is one reason why we should not desire to change it. +Mad people forget. They think they are somewhere else. For us to +believe that we were somewhere else would be in itself happiness." +</P> + +<P> +"I am resolved to change it—to change it, I say—at any risk. We will +leave Louvain." +</P> + +<P> +"We can, I dare say," Iris replied coldly, "find another town, French +or Belgian, where we can get another cottage, behind high walls in a +garden, and hide there." +</P> + +<P> +"No. I will hide no longer. I am sick of hiding." +</P> + +<P> +"Go on. What is your plan? Am I to pretend to be some one else's +widow?" +</P> + +<P> +"We will go to America. There are heaps of places in the States where +no English people ever go—-neither tourists nor settlers—places where +they have certainly never heard of us. We will find some quiet village, +buy a small farm, and settle among the people. I know something about +farming. We need not trouble to make the thing pay. And we will go back +to mankind again. Perhaps, Iris—when we have gone back to the +world—you will—" he hesitated—"you will be able to forgive me, and +to regard me again with your old thoughts. It was done for your sake." +</P> + +<P> +"It was not done for my sake. Do not repeat that falsehood. The old +thoughts will never come back, Harry. They are dead and gone. I have +ceased to respect you or myself. Love cannot survive the loss of +self-respect. Who am I that I should give love to anybody? Who are you +that you should expect love?" +</P> + +<P> +"Will you go with me to America—love or no love? I cannot stay here—I +will not stay here." +</P> + +<P> +"I will go with you wherever you please. I should like not to run +risks. There are still people whom it would pain to see Iris Henley +tried and found guilty with two others on a charge of fraudulent +conspiracy." +</P> + +<P> +"I wouldn't accustom myself, if I were you, Iris, to speak of things +too plainly. Leave the thing to me and I will arrange it. See now, we +will travel by a night train from Brussels to Calais. We will take the +cross-country line from Amiens to Havre; there we will take boat for +New York—no English people ever travel by the Havre line. Once in +America we will push up country—to Kentucky or somewhere—and find +that quiet country place: after that I ask no more. I will settle down +for the rest of my life, and have no more adventures. Do you agree, +Iris?" +</P> + +<P> +"I will do anything that you wish," she replied coldly. +</P> + +<P> +"Very well. Let us lose no time. I feel choked here. Will you go into +Brussels and buy a Continental Bradshaw or a Baedeker, or something +that will tell us the times of sailing, the cost of passage, and all +the rest of it? We will take with us money to start us with: you will +have to write to your bankers. We can easily arrange to have the money +sent to New York, and it can be invested there—except your own +fortune—in my new name. We shall want no outfit for a fortnight at +sea. I have arranged it all beautifully. Child, look like your old +self." He took an unresisting hand. "I want to see you smile and look +happy again." +</P> + +<P> +"You never will." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—when we have got ourselves out of this damnable, unwholesome way +of life; when we are with our fellow-creatures again. You will forget +this—this little business—which was, you know, after all, an unhappy +necessity." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! how can I ever forget?" +</P> + +<P> +"New interests will arise; new friendships will be formed—" +</P> + +<P> +"Harry, it is myself that I cannot forgive. Teach me to forgive myself, +and I will forget everything." +</P> + +<P> +He pressed her no longer. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, then," he said, "go to Brussels and get this information. If you +will not try to conquer this absurd moral sensitiveness—which comes +too late—you will at least enable me to place you in a healthier +atmosphere." +</P> + +<P> +"I will go at once," she said, "I will go by the next train." +</P> + +<P> +"There is a train at a quarter to two. You can do all you have to do +and catch the train at five. Iris"—the chance of a change made him +impatient—"let us go to-morrow. Let us go by the night express. There +will be English travellers, but they shall not recognise me. We shall +be in Calais at one in the morning. We will go on by an early train +before the English steamer comes in. Will you be ready?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; there is nothing to delay me. I suppose we can leave the house by +paying the rent? I will go and do what you want." +</P> + +<P> +"Let us go this very night." +</P> + +<P> +"If you please; I am always ready." +</P> + +<P> +"No: there will be no time; it will look like running away. We will go +to-morrow night. Besides, you would be too tired after going to +Brussels and back. Iris, we are going to be happy again—I am sure we +are." He, for one, looked as if there was nothing to prevent a return +of happiness. He laughed and waved his hands. "A new sky—-new +scenes—new work—you will be happy again, Iris. You shall go, dear. +Get me the things I want." +</P> + +<P> +She put on her thick veil and started on her short journey. The +husband's sudden return to his former good spirits gave her a gleam of +hope. The change would be welcome indeed if it permitted him to go +about among other men, and to her if it gave her occupation. As to +forgetting—how could she forget the past, so long as they were reaping +the fruit of their wickedness in the shape of solid dividends? She +easily found what she wanted. The steamer of the Compagnie Generale +Transatlantique left Havre every eighth day. They would go by that +line. The more she considered the plan the more it recommended itself. +They would at any rate go out of prison. There would be a change in +their life. Miserable condition! To have no other choice of life but +that of banishment and concealment: no other prospect than that of +continual fraud renewed by every post that brought them money. +</P> + +<P> +When she had got all the information that was wanted she had still an +hour or two before her. She thought she would spend the time wandering +about the streets of Brussels. The animation and life of the cheerful +city—where all the people except the market-women are young—pleased +her. It was long since she had seen any of the cheerfulness that +belongs to a busy street. She walked slowly along, up one street and +down another, looking into the shops. She made two or three little +purchases. She looked into a place filled with Tauchnitz Editions, and +bought two or three books. She was beginning to think that she was +tired and had better make her way back to the station, when suddenly +she remembered the post-office and her instructions to Fanny Mere. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder," she said, "if Fanny has written to me." +</P> + +<P> +She asked the way to the post-office. There was time if she walked +quickly. +</P> + +<P> +At the Poste Restante there was a letter for her—more than a letter, a +parcel, apparently a book. +</P> + +<P> +She received it and hurried back to the station. +</P> + +<P> +In the train she amused herself with looking through the leaves of her +new books. Fanny Mere's letter she would read after dinner. +</P> + +<P> +At dinner they actually talked. Lord Harry was excited with the +prospect of going back to the world. He had enjoyed his hermitage, he +said, quite long enough. Give him the society of his fellow-creatures. +"Put me among cannibals," he said, "and I should make friends with +them. But to live alone—it is the devil! To-morrow we begin our new +flight." +</P> + +<P> +After dinner he lit his cigar, and went on chattering about the future. +Iris remembered the packet she had got at the post-office, and opened +it. It contained a small manuscript book filled with writing and a +brief letter. She read the letter, laid it down, and opened the book. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap61"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER LXI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE LAST DISCOVERY +</H3> + +<P> +"I SHALL like to turn farmer," Lord Harry went on talking while Iris +opened and began to read Fanny's manuscript. "After all my adventures, +to settle down in a quiet place and cultivate the soil. On market-day +we will drive into town together"—he talked as if Kentucky were +Warwickshire—"side by side in a spring cart. I shall have samples of +grain in bags, and you will have a basket of butter and cream. It will +be an ideal life. We shall dine at the ordinary, and, after dinner, +over a pipe and a glass of grog, I shall discuss the weather and the +crops. And while we live in this retreat of ours, over here the very +name of Harry Norland will have been forgotten. Queer, that! We shall +go on living long after we are dead and buried and forgotten. In the +novels the man turns up after he is supposed to be cast +away—wrecked—drowned—dead long ago. But he never turns up when he is +forgotten—unless he is Rip Van Winkle. By Gad, Iris! when we are old +people we will go home and see the old places together. It will be +something to look forward to—something to live for—eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"I feel quite happy this evening, Iris; happier than I have been for +months. The fact is, this infernal place has hipped us both +confoundedly. I didn't like to grumble, but I've felt the monotony more +than a bit. And so have you. It's made you brood over things. Now, for +my part, I like to look at the bright side. Here we are comfortably cut +off from the past. That's all done with. Nothing in the world can +revive the memory of disagreeable things if we are only true to +ourselves and agree to forget them. What has been done can never be +discovered. Not a soul knows except the doctor, and between him and +ourselves we are going to put a few thousand—What's the matter, Iris? +What the devil is the matter?" +</P> + +<P> +For Iris, who had been steadily reading while her husband chattered on, +suddenly dropped the book, and turned upon him a white face and eyes +struck with horror. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it?" Lord Harry repeated. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! Is this true?" +</P> + +<P> +"What?" +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot say it. Oh, my God! can this be true?" +</P> + +<P> +"What? Speak, Iris." He sprang to his feet. "Is it—is it discovered?" +</P> + +<P> +"Discovered? Yes, all—all—all—is discovered!" +</P> + +<P> +"Where? How? Give me the thing, Iris. Quick! Who knows? What is known?" +</P> + +<P> +He snatched the book from her hands. She shrank from his touch, and +pushed back her chair, standing in an attitude of self-defence—watching +him as one would watch a dangerous creature. +</P> + +<P> +He swiftly read page after page, eager to know the worst. Then he threw +the book upon the table. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" he said, not lifting his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"The man was murdered—murdered!" she whispered. +</P> + +<P> +He made no reply. +</P> + +<P> +"You looked on while he was murdered! You looked on consenting! You are +a murderer!" +</P> + +<P> +"I had no share or part in it. I did not know he was being poisoned." +</P> + +<P> +"You knew when I was with you. Oh! the dead man—the murdered man—was +in the house at the very moment! Your hands were red with blood when +you took me away—to get me out of the way—so that I should not +know—" She stopped, she could not go on. +</P> + +<P> +"I did not know, Iris—not with certainty. I thought he was dying when +he came into the house. He did not die; he began to recover. When the +doctor gave him his medicine—after that woman went away—I suspected. +When he died, my suspicions were stronger. I challenged him. He did not +deny it. Believe me, Iris, I neither counselled it nor knew of it." +</P> + +<P> +"You acquiesced in it. You consented. You should have warned the—the +other murderer that you would denounce him if the man died. You took +advantage of it. His death enabled you to carry out your fraud with me +as your accomplice. With ME! I am an accomplice in a murder!" +</P> + +<P> +"No, no, Iris; you knew nothing of it. No one can ever accuse you—" +</P> + +<P> +"You do not understand. It is part of the accusation which I make +against myself." +</P> + +<P> +"As for what this woman writes," her husband went on, "it is true. I +suppose it is useless to deny a single word of it. She was hidden +behind the curtain, then! She heard and saw all! If Vimpany had found +her! He was right. No one so dangerous as a woman. Yes; she has told +you exactly what happened. She suspected all along. We should have sent +her away and changed our plans. This comes of being too clever. Nothing +would do for the doctor but the man's death. I hoped—we both +hoped—that he would die a natural death. He did not. Without a dead +man we were powerless. We had to get a dead man, Iris, I will hide +nothing more from you, whatever happens. I confess everything. I knew +that he was going to die. When he began to get well I was filled with +forebodings, because I knew that he would never be allowed to go away. +How else could we find a dead body? You can't steal a body; you can't +make one up. You must have one for proof of death. I say"—his voice +was harsh and hoarse—"I say that I knew he must die. I saw his death +in the doctor's face. And there was no more money left for a new +experiment if Oxbye should get well and go away. When it came to the +point I was seized with mortal terror. I would have given up +everything—everything—to see the man get up from his bed and go away. +But it was too late. I saw the doctor prepare the final dose, and when +he had it to his lips I saw by his eyes that it was the drink of death. +I have told you all," he concluded. +</P> + +<P> +"You have told me all," she repeated. "All! Good Heavens! All!" +</P> + +<P> +"I have hidden nothing from you. Now there is nothing more to tell." +</P> + +<P> +She stood perfectly still—her hands clasped, her eyes set, her face +white and stern. +</P> + +<P> +"What I have to do now," she said, "lies plain before me." +</P> + +<P> +"Iris! I implore you, make no change in our plans. Let us go away as we +proposed. Let the past be forgotten. Come with me—" +</P> + +<P> +"Go with you? With you? With you? Oh!" she shuddered. +</P> + +<P> +"Iris! I have told you all. Let us go on as if you had heard nothing. +We cannot be more separated than we have been for the last three +months. Let us remain as we are until the time when you will be able to +feel for me—to pity my weakness—and to forgive me." +</P> + +<P> +"You do not understand. Forgive you? It is no longer a question of +forgiveness. Who am I that my forgiveness should be of the least value +to you—or to any?" +</P> + +<P> +"What is the question, then?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know. A horrible crime has been committed—a horrible, +ghastly, dreadful crime—such a thing as one reads of in the papers and +wonders, reading it, what manner of wild beasts must be those who do +such things. Perhaps one wonders, besides, what manner of women must be +those who associate with those wild beasts. My husband is one of those +wild beasts!—my husband!—my husband!—and—I—I am one of the women +who are the fit companions of these wild creatures." +</P> + +<P> +"You can say what you please, Iris; what you please." +</P> + +<P> +"I have known—only since I came here have I really known and +understood—that I have wrecked my life in a blind passion. I have +loved you, Harry; it has been my curse. I followed you against the +warnings of everybody: I have been rewarded—by this. We are in hiding. +If we are found we shall be sent to a convict prison for conspiracy. We +shall be lucky if we are not tried for murder and hanged by the neck +until we are dead. This is my reward!" +</P> + +<P> +"I have never played the hypocrite with you, Iris. I have never +pretended to virtues which I do not possess. So far—" +</P> + +<P> +"Hush! Do not speak to me. I have something more to say, and then I +shall never speak to you any more. Hush! Let me collect my thoughts. I +cannot find the words. I cannot. . . Wait—wait! Oh!" She sat down and +burst into sobbings and moanings. But only for a minute. Then she +sprang to her feet again and dashed back the tears. "Time for crying," +she said, "when all is done. Harry, listen carefully; these are my last +words. You will never hear from me any more. You must manage your own +life in your own way, to save it or to spoil it; I will never more bear +any part in it. I am going back to England—alone. I shall give up your +name, and I shall take my maiden name again—or some other. I shall +live somewhere quietly where you will not discover me. But perhaps you +will not look for me?" +</P> + +<P> +"I will not," he said. "I owe you so much. I will not look for you." +</P> + +<P> +"As regards the money which I have obtained for you under false +pretences, out of the fifteen thousand pounds for which you were +insured, five thousand have been paid to my private account. I shall +restore to the Company all that money." +</P> + +<P> +"Good Heavens! Iris, you will be prosecuted on a criminal charge." +</P> + +<P> +"Shall I? That will matter little, provided I make reparation. Alas! +who shall make reparation—who shall atone—for the blood-spilling? For +all things else in this world we may make what we call atonement; but +not for the spilling of blood." +</P> + +<P> +"You mean this? You will deliberately do this?" +</P> + +<P> +"I mean every word. I will do nothing and say nothing that will betray +you. But the money that I can restore, I will restore—SO HELP ME, +GOD!" With streaming eyes she raised her hand and pointed upwards. +</P> + +<P> +Her husband bowed his head. +</P> + +<P> +"You have said all you wished to say?" he asked humbly. +</P> + +<P> +"I have said all." +</P> + +<P> +"Let me look in your face once more—-so—full—with the light upon it. +Yes; I have loved you, Iris—I have always loved you. Better, far +better, for you had you fallen dead at my feet on the day when you +became my wife. Then I should have been spared—I should have been +spared a great deal. You are right, Iris. Your duty lies plainly before +you. As for me, I must think of mine. Farewell! The lips of a murderer +are not fit to touch even the hem of your garments. Farewell!" +</P> + +<P> +He left her. She heard the hall door open and shut. She would see her +husband no more. +</P> + +<P> +She went to her own room and packed a single box with necessary things. +Then she called the housemaid and informed her that she had been +summoned to return suddenly to England; she must reach Brussels at +least that evening. The woman brought a porter who carried her box to +the station; and Iris left Louvain—and her husband—for ever. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap62"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER LXII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE BOARD OF DIRECTORS +</H3> + +<P> +AT a Board Meeting of the Royal Unicorn Life Insurance Company, +specially convened, the Chairman had to make a communication of a very +remarkable character. +</P> + +<P> +"Gentlemen," he said, "I call upon the Secretary, without further +introduction, to read a letter, to consider which you are called +together this day." +</P> + +<P> +"The letter," the Secretary began, "is simply headed 'Paris,' dated two +days ago." +</P> + +<P> +"Only two days ago," said the Chairman, mysteriously. "But, of course, +that means nothing. There has been plenty of time for him to change his +residence. I dare say he may be in London at our very elbow. Go on, if +you please." +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Gentlemen"—the Secretary proceeded to read the letter. "It is now +three months since a claim was sent in to you by the firm of Erskine, +Mansfield, Denham & Co., solicitors of Lincoln's Inn Fields, for the +sum of 15,000 pounds due to the heirs of Lord Harry Norland in respect +of an insurance effected upon his life." +</P> + +<P> +"The claim, gentlemen," said the Chairman, "was duly acknowledged and +paid some weeks later. It was a heavy loss; but these things will +occur, and there seemed no reason to doubt the facts alleged, or to +dispute the claim." +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"I write this letter," the Secretary continued reading, "in order to +inform you that the claim was fraudulent, inasmuch as Lord Harry +Norland was at the time, and is still, actually living." +</P> + +<P> +Fraudulent! The man still living! At this point there was a sudden +awakening. Everybody sat up and listened with all their ears. +</P> + +<P> +"I may tell you, gentlemen," the Chairman explained, "that the writer +of this remarkable letter is none other than Lord Harry Norland +himself. We will now proceed without further interruption." +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"In conjunction with another person, I devised and carried out +successfully a plan by which I was enabled to touch at once, and +without the disagreeable necessity of previously expiring and being +buried, the whole of the money for which I was insured. Other people +have attempted the same design, I believe, but the thing has hitherto +been managed clumsily. In my own case, it has been managed with great +dexterity and artistic skill. As you will naturally be curious on a +subject which interests you so closely I have no objection to reveal +the method. It is not enough to write to your office and state that a +certain person is dead. One must be prepared with proofs of the death +should any doubt arise. No proof of death is quite satisfactory without +evidence as to the disposal of the dead body. With that object, we +procured from the Hotel Dieu a patient apparently in an advanced state +of consumption. My accomplice, being a medical man, highly recommended, +was able to do this without suspicion. We nursed him ostentatiously. +During the latter part of the illness he was nursed under the name of +Lord Harry Norland. He died. His name was entered in the official +register as Lord Harry Norland. He was buried in the cemetery at +Auteuil, near Paris, as Lord Harry Norland. A headstone marks his +grave, which is purchased in perpetuity. The doctor certified the cause +of his death, and communicated the fact to the deceased's brother, Lord +Malven, and to the deceased's solicitors. The death was also announced +to the papers. The difficulties attendant on the successful conduct of +the business are so great that you need not fear a repetition. Nobody, +in order to assist a fraud, will consent to die and lend his own body. +It is seldom, indeed, that a sick man can be found—a foreigner and +friendless—whose death will cause no curiosity and raise no questions. +Add to this, it is extremely difficult, as I have now experienced, to +find the necessary assistance without encountering the objections of +conscience." +</P> + +<P> +"Upon my word!" cried one of the Directors, "this is a most wonderful +letter. I beg your pardon. Pray go on." +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"We began very well. We buried our man under the name of Lord Harry +Norland, as I have said. The difficulty then arose as to the +presentation of the claim. It was most desirable that the claim should +be made by the person who would most naturally be the deceased's heir +and after proving his will and by his own solicitor. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"I am married. I have no children. I have not lived on good terms with +my family. It was, therefore, quite reasonable to expect that I should +leave my wife sole heir and executrix. It was also natural that she +should go to my solicitors—the family solicitors—and ask them to +manage her affairs. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"With this object I confessed to my wife as much of the conspiracy as +was necessary. Like many women, she possesses, in addition to every +virtue, a blessed devotion to her husband. Where he is concerned she is +easily led even from the paths of honour. I practised on that devotion; +I used all the arguments and persuasions based on that devotion +necessary to convert a woman of honour into the accomplice of a +conspiracy. In brief, I made my wife join in the fraud. She consented +to act for me, persuaded that if she did not the conspiracy would be +discovered. The business has, therefore been carried through with the +greatest success. You have paid the claim in full without question. For +me there was left the very comfortable provision of 15,000 pounds, with +the consciousness of a daring and successful swindle. Unfortunately, my +wife has now discovered that her conscience will give her no peace or +rest until full restitution of the money has been made. She has +informed me of her intention to send back without delay that part of it +which lies at her bank in her own name—that is to say, five thousand +pounds. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"I do not suppose that, as gentlemen, you would be disposed to subject +a woman who thus desires to repair a wrong to the degradation of a +public prosecution. No useful end, in fact, will be served in so doing. +It is, in fact, in the conviction that you will take no proceedings +that I write this letter. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Further, as I wish my wife's scruples of conscience to be completely +set at rest, I am prepared, on an assurance that the matter will be +allowed to drop, to forward to you the remainder of the money, less two +thousand pounds, which I have reason to believe will be sent to you in +course of time. I am also prepared to instruct my wife, as my heir, in +the event of my death to make no claim on the Company; and I have +requested my solicitor to cease paying the annual premium. The Company +will, therefore, be the gainers of the whole premiums which have been +paid—namely, 300 pounds a year for ten years: that is to say, 3,000 +pounds. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"As for myself, I will take the necessary steps as soon as you have +given me that letter of assurance. As regards the other principal in +the Conspiracy, it is hardly worth your while to search after him. I +shall be obliged if you will be so good as to acknowledge this letter +without delay, with any assurance which you may be able to make as +regards the person whom I have dragged into the affair. I send you an +address where a letter will find me. You may wish to watch the house. I +assure you beforehand that it is useless. I shall not go there.—I +remain, Gentlemen, +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Your obedient servant, +<BR> +"HARRY NORLAND." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Perhaps," said the Secretary, "it is in connection with this letter +that I have this day received a packet of bank-notes amounting in all +to the sum of five thousand pounds. The packet is endorsed 'Restitution +money.'" +</P> + +<P> +"Bank-notes, gentlemen," said the Chairman significantly, "may be +traced if necessary." +</P> + +<P> +The Directors looked at each other. This was, indeed, a very remarkable +story, and one never before brought to the notice of any Board. +</P> + +<P> +"Gentlemen," said the Chairman, "you have heard the letter; you now +have the case before you. I should like to hear your views." +</P> + +<P> +"We are likely to get most of our money back," said one of the +Directors, "it seems to me, by holding our tongues. That is the main +thing." +</P> + +<P> +"If we could get Lord Harry himself," said another, "I should say: Go +for him, but not for his wife. I wonder we ever took his life at all. +If all stories are true about him he is as bad as they make 'em. He ran +away when he was a boy, and went to sea: he was a strolling actor after +that: he went out to the States and was reported to have been seen in +the West: he has been a ship's steward: he has been on the turf. What +has he not been?" +</P> + +<P> +"We have got the money," said another; "that is the great thing. We +must remember that we should never have found out the thing unless—" +</P> + +<P> +"The Company must not compound a felony," said the Chairman. +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly not. By no means. At the same time, would any good purpose +be served by public scandal in connection with a noble House?" +</P> + +<P> +"The noble House," said another Director, who was Radical, "may very +well take care of itself. Question is, Would it do any good to anybody +if we ran in the wife?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who is she?" +</P> + +<P> +"You would expect a ruffian like Lord Harry to marry a woman like +himself. Not at all. He married a most charming creature named +Henley—Iris Henley—father very well known in the City. I heard of it +at the time. She would have him—-infatuated about him—sad business. +Mr. Chairman, I submit that it is quite impossible for us to take +proceedings against this unfortunate lady, who is doing her utmost to +make restitution." +</P> + +<P> +"The Company must not compound a felony," the Chairman repeated. +</P> + +<P> +"Even if we do not get back that two thousand pounds," said the +Secretary, "the Company will lose nothing. The surrender value must be +considered." +</P> + +<P> +Then another of the Directors spoke. "We do not know where this lady is +to be found. She is probably passing under another name. It is not our +business to hunt her down." +</P> + +<P> +"And if we found her we should have to prove the case, and her guilty +knowledge of the conspiracy," said another. "How would this precious +letter be taken as evidence? Why, we do not even know that it is true. +We might exhume the body: what would that prove after three months? We +might open up the case, and spend a heap of money, and create a great +scandal, and be none the better for it afterwards. My advice is, let +the thing drop." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, but," objected another, "suppose we admit that the man is still +living. He may die, and then there would be another claim upon us." +</P> + +<P> +"Of that," said the Chairman, "I think there need be no apprehension +whatever. You have heard his letter. But, I repeat, we must not +compound a felony!" +</P> + +<P> +"I submit, Mr. Chairman," said one who had not spoken—and he was a +barrister—"that the Company knows nothing at all about Lady Harry +Norland. We have had to deal with the firm of Erskine, Mansfield, +Denham & Co., of Lincoln's Inn Fields: and a most respectable firm too. +On their representations we paid the money. If it can be ascertained +that we have been defrauded we must look to them. If we have to +prosecute anybody it must be that respectable firm." +</P> + +<P> +"Good," said the Chairman. +</P> + +<P> +"I propose, therefore, that the Secretary write to Lord Harry Norland, +informing him that the Company have had nothing at all to do with his +wife, and do not recognise her action in any way. We shall then see +what happens, and can proceed in accordance." +</P> + +<P> +At this moment a card was brought in. It was that of Mr. Erskine +himself, senior partner in the very firm. +</P> + +<P> +He came in, old, eminently respectable, but shaken. He was greatly +shaken. "Gentlemen," he said nervously, "I hasten to bring you a +communication, a most extraordinary communication, which I have just +received. It is nothing less than a confession—a full confession—from +a person whom I had every reason to believe was dead. It is from Lord +Harry Norland." +</P> + +<P> +"We know already," said the Chairman, superior, "the main facts which +you are going to lay before us. We are met to-day in order to discuss +our action in view of these facts. There has been a conspiracy of a +very artful and ingenious character. It has been successful so far +through the action of a woman. By the action of the same woman it is +sought to make restitution. The hand of justice, however—" +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps," said the lawyer, "you will oblige me by allowing me to read +the letter." +</P> + +<P> +"Pray read it"—the Chairman bowed—"though I do not suppose it will +add to the information we already possess." +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Gentlemen"—the lawyer read—"You will be surprised and pained to +learn that I am not—as you were given to understand—dead; but on the +other hand, living and in the enjoyment of rude health. I see no reason +why my life should not be prolonged to threescore years and ten. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"The claim, therefore, which you sent in to the Royal Unicorn Life +Insurance Company was fraudulent. It was the result of a deep-laid +conspiracy. You have been made the innocent accomplice of a great +crime. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"My wife, who now knows the whole truth, is most anxious for +restitution to be made. She is about to restore that portion of the +money which lies in her name. Most of the rest will be sent back by +myself, on certain conditions. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"In communicating the fact of my being still alive to the head of my +family you will please also to inform him that I authorise the +discontinuance of the premium. This will save the family 300 pounds a +year. This will be a solatium to him for the fact that his brother +still lives to disgrace the name. If I should die before the next +premium is due I order my heirs not to claim the money.—I remain, +Gentlemen, your obedient servant, +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"HARRY NORLAND." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"The premium which should have been paid under ordinary circumstances," +said the Secretary, "was due six weeks ago. The policy has therefore +expired." +</P> + +<P> +"It is a characteristic letter," said the lawyer. "Lord Harry was born +to be a trouble to his family. There has never been a time, so far as I +remember, when he was not a trouble and a disgrace. Hitherto, however, +he has avoided actual crime—at least, actual detection. Now, I +suppose, the game is up. Yet, gentlemen, the letter is not that of an +utter villain." +</P> + +<P> +"He will not be caught," observed the Chairman. "The letter is from too +cool a hand. He has prepared a retreat. I dare say by this time he is +in some safe and convenient disguise. We are only concerned—are we +not?—for the moment with the lady. She has received the money from +you. We paid it to you on your representations." +</P> + +<P> +"Observe," said the lawyer, "that the moment she learns the truth she +hastens to make restitution." +</P> + +<P> +"Humph!" said the Director, turning over Lord Harry's letter so that +the lawyer should not be able to read the contents. "Have you seen +her?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have not. I expect to do so before long. She will certainly call +upon me." +</P> + +<P> +"She will be ill-advised," said the Chairman, "if she calls upon +anybody just at present. Well, sir, I confess that I should be +sorry—every member of this Board would be sorry—to see that lady +placed in the dock beside her husband." +</P> + +<P> +"In the interests of the noble family concerned, I hope that neither of +them will be placed in the dock." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know who is the other man—the second principal?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can guess. I do not know, however, where he is. All I know is what I +have communicated to you—the contents of this letter." +</P> + +<P> +"One would like to get hold of the other man," said the Chairman. +"Presumably he does not belong to a noble family. Well, sir, I don't +know what may be done; but this Company cannot, I repeat, compound a +felony." +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly not. Most certainly not. At present, however, you have got +very little to go upon. And unless evidence is forthcoming—" +</P> + +<P> +"We will not discuss that part of the business," said the Chairman. "A +conspiracy has been undoubtedly entered into. We may be compelled to +bring an action of some kind against your firm, Mr. Erskine. As regards +the lady, if she is guilty—" +</P> + +<P> +"No—no," said the lawyer, "upon my life! Sinned against—not guilty." +</P> + +<P> +The Chairman folded up Lord Harry's letter and gave it to the +Secretary. +</P> + +<P> +"We are much obliged to you, sir, for your prompt action. It is, of +course, only what we should have expected of your firm. Meantime, +remember that the claim was made by you, that you received the money, +and—but we will communicate with you in a few days." +</P> + +<P> +The Secretary wrote such a letter as was suggested. By return of post a +cheque was sent, signed by one William Linville, for the sum of eight +thousand pounds. The Company had, therefore, recovered thirteen out of +fifteen thousand pounds. The Secretary had another interview with Mr. +Erskine, the result of which was that the Company recovered the +remaining two thousand pounds. +</P> + +<P> +Every firm of solicitors contains its own secrets and keeps them. +Therefore, we need not inquire whether it was intended that this money +should be paid by the firm or by the noble family to which Lord Harry +Norland belonged. It is, however, certain that a few days afterwards +Mr. Hugh Mountjoy called at the office and had a long conversation with +the senior partner, and that he left behind him a very big cheque. +</P> + +<P> +The subject has never been brought before the Directors again. It was, +indeed, privately discussed, and that frequently. Perhaps the story was +whispered about outside the Board-room. These things do get about. +There has been, however, a feeling that the thing, which would have +been perfectly successful but for the conscience of a woman concerned, +might be repeated with less tender consciences, and so the Companies be +defrauded. Now the wickedness of the world is already so great that it +needs no more teaching to make it worse. On the whole, the less said +the better. +</P> + +<P> +Besides, the tragic event which happened a day or two later effectively +prevented any further step. That in itself was sufficient to wipe out +the whole business. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap63"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER LXIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A REFUGE +</H3> + +<P> +IT was all over. Iris had sent in her money. She was in a small lodging +found for her by Fanny Mere, who called her cousin. She stayed indoors +all day long, afraid of stirring abroad; afraid to read the papers; +afraid that her husband was arrested on the charge of conspiracy and +fraud; afraid that some kind of hue and cry might be out after her. +</P> + +<P> +Therefore, when she heard a manly step on the stair, she started and +turned pale, expecting nothing short of an armed messenger of the law. +She never was in this danger for a single minute, but conscience made a +coward of her. +</P> + +<P> +The step was that of Hugh Mountjoy. +</P> + +<P> +"I found you out," he said, "by means of Fanny. The girl knew that she +was safe in letting me know your secret. Why are you in concealment?" +</P> + +<P> +"You cannot know all, or you would not ask me that." +</P> + +<P> +"I do know all; and again I ask, why are you in concealment?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because—Oh, Hugh—spare me!" +</P> + +<P> +"I know all, which is the reason why I cannot choose but come to see +you. Come out of this poor place; resume your own name. There is no +reason why you should not. You were not present at Passy when this +conspiracy was hatched; you got there after the funeral. You, +naturally, went to see the family solicitors. Iris, what has the +conspiracy to do with you?" It will be observed that Hugh had not read +the letter written to the Directors of the Company. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know about the money?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly. You sent back all that you could—five thousand pounds. +That showed your own innocence—" +</P> + +<P> +"Hugh, you know that I am guilty." +</P> + +<P> +"The world will think that you are innocent. At any rate, you can come +out and go about without fear. Tell me, what are your plans?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have no plans. I only want to hide my head—somewhere." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; we will talk about that presently. Meantime, I have some news for +you." +</P> + +<P> +"News? What news?" +</P> + +<P> +"Really good news. I have to tell you a thing which will surprise you." +</P> + +<P> +"Good news? What good news is there for me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Your husband has sent back the whole of the money." +</P> + +<P> +"Sent back? To the Insurance Office?" +</P> + +<P> +"All has been sent back. He wrote two letters—one to the solicitors +and the other to the Insurance Company. It is not likely now that +anything can be said, because the Directors have accepted the money. +Moreover, it appears that they might have proceeded against the lawyers +for the recovery of the money, but that they have nothing to do either +with you or with Lord Harry Norland. That is a difficult point, +however. Somebody, it seems, has compounded—or is going to compound—a +felony. I do not understand exactly what this means, or what dreadful +consequences might follow; but I am assured by the lawyers that we need +apprehend nothing more. All is over." +</P> + +<P> +Iris heaved a profound sigh. +</P> + +<P> +"Then he is safe?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"You think of him first," said Hugh, jealously. "Yes: he is safe; and, +I do hope, gone away, out of the country, never to come back any more. +The more important thing is that you should be safe from him. As for +the doctor—but I cannot speak of the doctor with common patience. Let +him be left to the end which always awaits such men. It is to be hoped +that he will never, wherever he goes, feel himself in safety." +</P> + +<P> +"I am safe," said Iris, "not only from my husband, but from what else +beside? You know what I mean. You mean that I, as well as my husband, +am safe from that. Oh! the fear of it has never left me—never for one +moment. You tell me that I am safe from public disgrace, and I +rejoice—when I ought to sink into the earth with shame!" She covered +her face with her hands. +</P> + +<P> +"Iris, we know what you have done. We also know why you did it. What +need we say more? The thing is finished and done with. Let us never +again allude to it. The question now is—what will you do next? Where +will you live?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know. I have got Fanny Mere with me. Mrs. Vimpany is also +anxious to live with me. I am rich, indeed, since I have two faithful +dependants and one friend." +</P> + +<P> +"In such wealth, Iris, you will always be rich. Now listen seriously. I +have a villa in the country. It is far away from London, in the +Scottish Lowlands—quite out of the way—remote even from tourists and +travellers. It is a very lonely place, but there is a pretty house, +with a great garden behind and a stretch of sand and seashore in front. +There one may live completely isolated. I offer you that villa for your +residence. Take it; live in it as long as you please." +</P> + +<P> +"No, no. I must not accept such a gift." +</P> + +<P> +"You must, Iris—you shall. I ask it of you as a proof of friendship, +and nothing more. Only, I fear that you will get tired of the +loneliness." +</P> + +<P> +"No—no," she said. "I cannot get tired of loneliness it is all I +want." +</P> + +<P> +"There is no society at all." +</P> + +<P> +"Society? Society for me?" +</P> + +<P> +"I go to the neighbourhood sometimes for fishing. You will let me call +upon you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who else has such a right?" +</P> + +<P> +"Then you will accept my offer?" +</P> + +<P> +"I feel that I must. Yes, Hugh; yes, with deepest gratitude." +</P> + +<P> +The next day she went down by the night-mail to Scotland. With her +travelled Mrs. Vimpany and Fanny Mere. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap64"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER LXIV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE INVINCIBLES +</H3> + +<P> +THE proceedings of Lord Harry after he had sent off that cheque were +most remarkable. If he had invited—actually courted—what followed—he +could not have acted differently. +</P> + +<P> +He left London and crossed over to Dublin. +</P> + +<P> +Arrived there, he went to a small hotel entirely frequented by Irish +Americans and their friends. It was suspected of being the principal +place of resort of the Invincibles. It was known to be a house entirely +given up to the Nationalists. He made no attempt to conceal his name. +He entered the hotel, greeted the landlord cheerfully, saluted the head +waiter, ordered his dinner, and took no notice of the sullen looks with +which he was received or the scowls which followed him about the +coffee-room, where half a dozen men were sitting and talking, for the +most part in whispers. +</P> + +<P> +He slept there that night. +</P> + +<P> +The next day, still openly and as if there was nothing to fear, either +from England or from Ireland, he walked to the station and took his +ticket, paying no attention to what all the world might have seen and +understood—that he was watched. When he had taken his ticket two men +immediately afterwards took tickets to the same place. The place where +he was going was that part of Kerry where the Invincibles had formerly +assassinated Arthur Mountjoy. +</P> + +<P> +The two men who followed him—who took their tickets for the same +place—who got into the same carriage with him—were two members of +that same fraternity. It is well known that he who joins that body and +afterwards leaves it, or disobeys its order, or is supposed to betray +its secrets, incurs the penalty of death. +</P> + +<P> +On the unexpected arrival of Lord Harry at this hotel, there had been +hurriedly called together a meeting of those members then in Dublin. It +was resolved that the traitor must be removed. Lots were cast, and the +lot fell upon one who remembered past acts of kindness done by Lord +Harry to his own people. He would fain have been spared this business, +but the rules of the society are imperative. He must obey. +</P> + +<P> +It is the practice of the society when a murder has been resolved upon +to appoint a second man, whose duty it is to accompany the murderer and +to see that he executes his task. +</P> + +<P> +In the afternoon, about an hour before sunset, the train arrived at the +station where Lord Harry was to get down. The station-master recognised +him, and touched his hat. Then he saw the two other men got down after +him, and he turned pale. +</P> + +<P> +"I will leave my portmanteau," said Lord Harry, "in the cloak-room. It +will be called for." +</P> + +<P> +Afterwards the station-master remembered those words. Lord Harry did +not say "I will call for it," but "It will be called for." Ominous +words. +</P> + +<P> +The weather was cold; a drizzling rain fell; the day was drawing in. +Lord Harry left the station, and started with quick step along the +road, which stretched across a dreary desolate piece of country. +</P> + +<P> +The two men walked after him. One presently quickened his step, leaving +the second man twenty yards behind. +</P> + +<P> +The station-master looked after them till he could see them no longer. +Then he shook his head and returned to his office. +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry walking along the road knew that the two men were following +him. Presently he became aware that one of them was quickening his +pace. +</P> + +<P> +He walked on. Perhaps his cheeks paled and his lips were set close, +because he knew that he was walking to his death. +</P> + +<P> +The steps behind him approached faster—faster. Lord Harry never even +turned his head. The man was close behind him. The man was beside him. +</P> + +<P> +"Mickey O'Flynn it is," said Lord Harry. +</P> + +<P> +"'Tis a —— traitor, you are," said the man. +</P> + +<P> +"Your friends the Invincibles told you that, Mickey. Why, do you think +I don't know, man, what are you here for? Well?" he stopped. "I am +unarmed. You have got a revolver in your hand—the hand behind your +back. What are you stopping for?" +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot," said the man. +</P> + +<P> +"You must, Mickey O'Flynn—you must; or it's murdered you'll be +yourself," said Lord Harry, coolly. "Why, man, 'tis but to lift your +hand. And then you'll be a murderer for life. I am another—we shall +both be murderers then. Why don't you fire, man." +</P> + +<P> +"By —— I cannot!" said Mickey. He held the revolver behind him, but +he did not lift his arm. His eyes started: his mouth was open; the +horror of the murderer was upon him before the murder was committed. +Then he started. "Look!" he cried. "Look behind you, my lord!" +</P> + +<P> +Lord Harry turned. The second man was upon him. He bent forward and +peered in his face. +</P> + +<P> +"Arthur Mountjoy's murderer!" he cried, and sprang at his throat. +</P> + +<P> +One, two, three shots rang out in the evening air. Those who heard them +in the roadside cabin, at the railway-station on the road, shuddered. +They knew the meaning of those shots. One more murder to load the soul +of Ireland. +</P> + +<P> +But Lord Harry lay dead in the middle of the road. +</P> + +<P> +The second man got up and felt at his throat. +</P> + +<P> +"Faith!" he said, "I thought I was murdered outright. Come, Mick, let +us drag him to the roadside." +</P> + +<P> +They did so, and then with bent heads and slouched hats, they made +their way across country to another station where they would not be +recognised as the two who had followed Lord Harry down the road. +</P> + +<P> +Two mounted men of the Constabulary rode along an hour later and found +the body lying where it had been left. +</P> + +<P> +They searched the pockets. They found a purse with a few sovereigns; +the portrait of a lady—-the murdered man's wife—a sealed envelope +addressed to Hugh Mountjoy, Esq, care of his London hotel; and a +card-case: nothing of any importance. +</P> + +<P> +"It is Lord Harry Norland," said one. "The wild lord—he has met his +end at last." +</P> + +<P> +The letter to Iris was brief. It said: +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Farewell! I am going to meet the death of one who is called a Traitor +to the Cause. I am the Traitor of a Cause far higher. May the end that +is already plotted for me be accepted as an atonement! Forgive me, +Iris! Think of me as kindly as you can. But I charge you—it is my +latest word—mourn not for one who has done his best to poison your +life and to ruin your soul." +</P> + +<P> +In the other letter he said: +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"I know the affection you have always entertained for Iris. She will +tell you what she pleases about the past. If she tells you nothing +about her late husband, think the worst and you will not be wrong. +Remember that whatever she has done was done for me and at my +instigation. She ought to have married you instead of me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"I am in the presence of Death. The men who are going to kill me are +under this very roof. They will kill me, perhaps to-night. Perhaps they +will wait for a quieter and a safer place. But they will kill me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"In the presence of Death, I rise superior to the pitiful jealousy with +which I have always regarded you. I now despise it. I ask your pardon +for it. Help Iris to forget the action of her life of which she has +most reason to be ashamed. Show that you forgive me—when you have +forgiven her—and when you have helped her in the warmth and strength +of your love to drive me out of your thoughts for ever. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"H. N." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="epilogue"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +EPILOGUE +</H3> + +<P> +IT is two years after the murder of Lord Harry Norland, the last event +connected with this history. +</P> + +<P> +Iris, when she accepted Hugh Mountjoy's offer of his Scotch villa, went +there resolved to hide herself from the world. Too many people, she +thought, knew her history, and what she had done. It was not likely +that the Directors of the Insurance Company would all hold their +tongues about a scandal so very unusual. Even if they did not charge +her with complicity, as they could, they would certainly tell the +story—all the more readily since Lord Harry's murder—of the +conspiracy and its success. She could never again, she told herself, be +seen in the world. +</P> + +<P> +She was accompanied by her friend and maid—the woman whose fidelity to +her had been so abundantly proved—and by Mrs. Vimpany, who acted as +housekeeper. +</P> + +<P> +After a decent interval, Hugh Mountjoy joined her. She was now a widow. +She understood very well what he wished to say, and she anticipated +him. She informed him that nothing would ever induce her to become the +wife of any other man after her degradation. Hugh received this +intimation without a remark. He remained in the neighbourhood, however, +calling upon her frequently and offering no word of love. But he became +necessary to her. The frequent visits became daily; the afternoon +visits were paid in the morning: the visitor stayed all day. When the +time came for Iris to yield, and he left the house no more, there +seemed to be no change. But still they continued their retired life, +and now I do not think they will ever change it again. +</P> + +<P> +Their villa was situated on the north shore of the Solway Firth, close +to the outfall of the Annan River, but on the west bank, opposite to +the little town of Annan. At the back was a large garden, the front +looked out upon the stretch of sand at low tide and the water at high +tide. The house was provided with a good library. Iris attended to her +garden, walked on the sands, read, or worked. They were a quiet +household. Husband and wife talked little. They walked about in the +garden, his arm about her waist, or hand in hand. The past, if not +forgotten, was ceasing to trouble them; it seemed a dreadful, terrible +dream. It left its mark in a gentle melancholy which had never belonged +to Iris in the old days. +</P> + +<P> +And then happened the last event which the chronicler of this history +has to relate. +</P> + +<P> +It began in the morning with a letter. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany received it. She knew the handwriting, started, and hid it +quickly in her bosom. As soon as she could get away to her own room she +opened and read it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Good and Tender Creature,—I ascertained, a good while ago, thinking +that probably I might have to make this kind of application to you, +where you were living and with whom. It was not difficult; I only had +to connect you with Mr. Hugh Mountjoy and to find out where he lived. I +congratulate you on being so well able to take care of yourself. You +are probably settled for life in a comfortable home. I feel as happy +about it as if I had myself contributed to thus satisfactory result. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"I have no intention of making myself more disagreeable than I am +obliged to do. Necessity, however, knows no law. You will understand me +when I tell you that I have spent all my money. I do not regret the +manner in which the money has been spent, but the fact that it has all +gone. This it is which cuts me to the heart. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"I have also discovered that the late lamented Lord Harry, whose death +I myself have the greatest reasons to deplore, played me a scurvy trick +in regard to certain sums of money. The amount for which he was insured +was not less than 15,000 pounds. The amount as he stated it to me was +only 4,000 pounds. In return for certain services rendered at a +particular juncture I was to receive the half of the insurance money. I +only received 2,000 pounds, consequently there is still due to me the +sum of 5,500 pounds. This is a large lump of money. But Mr. Mountjoy +is, I believe, a wealthy man. He will, doubtless, see the necessity of +paying this money to me without further question or delay. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"You will, therefore, seek his presence—he is now, I hear, at home. +You may read to him any part of this letter that you please, and you +will let him know that I am in earnest. A man with empty pockets cannot +choose but be in earnest. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"He may very possibly object. +</P> + +<P> +"Very good. In that case you will tell him that a fraud has been +committed in connection with which I am prepared to make a full +confession. I consented, on the death of my patient, and at the earnest +entreaty of Lord Harry Norland, to represent the dead man as his +lordship. I then went away, resolving to have nothing more to do with +the further villainy which I believe was carried on to the obtaining of +the whole amount for which he was insured. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"The murder of Lord Harry immediately afterwards caused the Company to +drop their intended prosecution. I shall reveal to them the present +residence of his widow, and shall place my evidence at their +disposition. Whatever happens I shall make the facts of the case +public. This done, nothing can hurt me; while, whether the Public +Prosecutor intervenes or not, neither Mr. Hugh Mountjoy nor his wife +can ever show face to the world again. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Tell Mr. Mountjoy, I say, whatever you please, except that I am +joking. You must not tell him that. I shall call to-morrow morning, and +shall expect to find the business as good as done. +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"A. V." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Mrs. Vimpany dropped the letter in dismay. Her husband had vanished out +of her life for more than two years. She hoped that she was effectually +hidden; she hoped that he had gone away to some far-off country where +he would never more return. Alas! This world of ours has no far-off +country left, and, even if the wicked man turneth away from his +wickedness so far as to go to the Rocky Mountains, an express train and +a swift boat will bring him back to his wickedness whenever he desires +a little more enjoyment and the society of his old friends. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Vimpany was back again. What should she do? What would Iris do? +What would Mr. Mountjoy do? +</P> + +<P> +She read the letter again. +</P> + +<P> +Two things were obvious: first, that he had no clue of the restitution; +and, next, that he had no idea of the evidence against him for the +murder of the Dane. She resolved to communicate the latter fact only. +She was braver now than she had been formerly. She saw more clearly +that the way of the wicked man is not always so easy for him. If he +knew that his crime could be brought home to him; that he would +certainly be charged with murder if he dared to show himself, or if he +asked for money, he would desist. Before such a danger the most +hardened villain would shrink. +</P> + +<P> +She also understood that it was desirable to hide from him the nature +of the evidence and the name of the only witness against him. She would +calmly tell him what would happen, and bid him begone, or take the +consequences. +</P> + +<P> +Yet even if he were driven off he would return. She would live +henceforth in continual apprehension of his return. Her tranquillity +was gone. +</P> + +<P> +Heavens! That a man should have such power over the lives of others! +</P> + +<P> +She passed the most wretched day of her whole life. She saw in +anticipation the happiness of that household broken up. She pictured +his coming, but she could not picture his departure. For she had never +seen him baffled and defeated. +</P> + +<P> +He would come in, big, burly, with his farmer-like manner confident, +bullying, masterful. He would ask her what she had done; he would swear +at her when he learned that she had done nothing; he would throw +himself into the most comfortable chair, stretch out his legs, and +order her to go and fetch Mr. Mountjoy. Would she be subdued by him as +of old? Would she find the courage to stand up to him? For the sake of +Iris—yes. For the sake of the man who had been so kind to her—yes. +</P> + +<P> +In the evening, the two women—Mrs. Vimpany and Fanny—were seated in +the housekeeper's room. Both had work in their laps: neither was doing +any work. The autumnal day had been boisterous; the wind was getting +higher. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you thinking of?" asked Fanny. +</P> + +<P> +"I was thinking of my husband. If he were to come back, Fanny—if he +were to threaten—" +</P> + +<P> +"You would loose my tongue—you would let me speak?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; for her sake. I would have shielded him once—-if I could. But +not now. I know, at last, that there is no single good thing left in +him." +</P> + +<P> +"You have heard from him. I saw the letter this morning, in the box. I +knew the handwriting. I have been waiting for you to speak." +</P> + +<P> +"Hush! Yes, Fanny; I have heard from him. He wants money. He will come +here to-morrow morning, and will threaten Mr. Mountjoy. Keep your +mistress in her own room. Persuade her to lie in bed—anything." +</P> + +<P> +"He does not know what I have seen. Charge him with the murder of the +Dane. Tell him," said Fanny, her lips stiffening, "that if he dares to +come again—if he does not go away—he shall be arrested for murder. I +will keep silence no longer!" +</P> + +<P> +"I will—I am resolved! Oh! who will rid us of this monster?" +</P> + +<P> +Outside, the gale rose higher—higher still. They heard it howling, +grinding branches together; they heard the roaring and the rushing of +the waters as the rising tide was driven over the shallow sands, like a +mountain reservoir at loose among the valleys below. +</P> + +<P> +In the midst of the tempest there came a sudden lull. Wind and water +alike seemed hushed. And out of the lull, as if in answer to the +woman's question, there came a loud cry—the shriek of a man in deadly +peril. +</P> + +<P> +The two women caught each other by the hand and rushed to the window. +They threw it open; the tempest began again; a fresh gust drove them +back; the waters roared: the wind howled; they heard the voice no more. +They closed the window and put up the shutters. +</P> + +<P> +It was long past midnight when they dared to go to bed. One of them lay +awake the whole night long. In the roaring tempest she had seen an omen +of the wrath of Heaven about to fall once more upon her mistress. +</P> + +<P> +She was wrong. The wrath of Heaven fell upon one far more guilty. +</P> + +<P> +In the morning, with the ebbing tide, a dead body was found lashed to +the posts of one of the standing nets in the Solway. It was recognised +by Hugh, who went out to look at it, and found it the body of Vimpany. +</P> + +<P> +Whether he was on his way back to Annan, or whether he intended to call +at the villa that evening instead of next morning, no one can tell. His +wife shed tears, but they were tears of relief. The man was buried as a +stranger. Hugh kept his counsel. Mrs. Vimpany put the letter in the +fire. Neither of them thought it wise to disturb the mind of Iris by +any mention of the man. Some days later, however, Mrs. Vimpany came +downstairs in a widow's cap. +</P> + +<P> +To Iris's look of interrogation she replied calmly, "Yes, I heard the +other day. He is dead. Is it not better—even for him, perhaps—that he +should be dead? He can do no more wickedness; he can bring misery into +no more households. He is dead." +</P> + +<P> +Iris made no reply. Better—better far—that he was dead. But how she +had been delivered from the man, to what new dangers she had been +exposed, she knew not, and will never know. +</P> + +<P> +She has one secret—and only one—which she keeps from her husband. In +her desk she preserves a lock of Lord Harry's hair. Why? I know not. +Blind Love doth never wholly die. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="finis"> +THE END +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Blind Love, by Wilkie Collins + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLIND LOVE *** + +***** This file should be named 7890-h.htm or 7890-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/7/8/9/7890/ + +Produced by James Rusk. HTML version by Al Haines. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</BODY> + +</HTML> + + diff --git a/7890.txt b/7890.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0840b15 --- /dev/null +++ b/7890.txt @@ -0,0 +1,15530 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Blind Love, by Wilkie Collins + +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: Blind Love + +Author: Wilkie Collins + +Posting Date: January 28, 2009 [EBook #7890] +Release Date: April 2005 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLIND LOVE *** + + + + +Produced by James Rusk. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + +Blind Love + + +by + +Wilkie Collins (completed by Walter Besant) + + + + +CONTENTS + + +PREFACE + +FIRST PERIOD + + I THE SOUR FRENCH WINE + II THE MAN SHE REFUSED + III THE REGISTERED PACKET + IV THE GAME: MOUNTJOY LOSES + V THE GAME: MOUNTJOY PLAYS A NEW CARD + VI THE GAME: MOUNTJOY WINS + VII DOCTORING THE DOCTOR + VIII HER FATHER'S MESSAGE + IX MR. VIMPANY ON INTOXICATION + X THE MOCKERY OF DECEIT + XI MRS. VIMPANY'S FAREWELL + XII LORD HARRY's DEFENCE + +THE SECOND PERIOD + + XIII IRIS AT HOME + XIV THE LADY'S MAID + XV MR. HENLEY'S TEMPER + XVI THE DOCTOR IN FULL DRESS + XVII ON HAMPSTEAD HEATH + XVIII PROFESSIONAL ASSISTANCE + XIX MR. HENLEY AT HOME + XX FIRST SUSPICIONS OF IRIS + XXI THE PARTING SCENE + XXII THE FATAL WORDS + +THE THIRD PERIOD + + XXIII NEWS OF IRIS + XXIV LORD HARRY'S HONEYMOON + XXV THE DOCTOR IN DIFFICULTIES + XXVI LONDON AND PARIS + XXVII THE BRIDE AT HOME + XXVIII THE MAID AND THE KEYHOLE + XXIX THE CONQUEST OF MR. VIMPANY + XXX SAXON AND CELT + XXXI THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS + XXXII GOOD-BYE TO IRIS + XXXIII THE DECREE OF FATE + XXXIV MY LORD'S MIND + XXXV MY LADY'S MIND + XXXVI THE DOCTOR MEANS MISCHIEF + XXXVII THE FIRST QUARREL + XXXVIII ICI ON PARLE FRANCAIS + XXXIX THE MYSTERY OF THE HOSPITAL + XL DIRE NECESSITY + XLI THE MAN IS FOUND. + XLII THE METTLESOME MAID + XLIII FICTION: ATTEMPTED BY MY LORD + XLIV FICTION: IMPROVED BY THE DOCTOR + XLV FACT: RELATED BY FANNY + XLVI MAN AND WIFE + XLVII THE PATIENT AND MY LORD + XLVIII "THE MISTRESS AND THE MAID" + XLIX THE NURSE IS SENT AWAY + L IN THE ALCOVE + LI WHAT NEXT? + LII THE DEAD MAN'S PHOTOGRAPH + LIII THE WIFE'S RETURN + LIV ANOTHER STEP + LV THE ADVENTURES OF A FAITHFUL MAID + LVI FANNY'S NARRATIVE + LVII AT LOUVAIN + LVIII OF COURSE THEY WILL PAY + LIX THE CONSEQUENCES OF AN ADVERTISEMENT + LX ON THE EVE OF A CHANGE + LXI THE LAST DISCOVERY + LXII THE BOARD OF DIRECTORS + LXIII A REFUGE + LXIV THE INVINCIBLES + + + + +PREFACE + +IN the month of August 1889, and in the middle of the seaside holiday, +a message came to me from Wilkie Collins, then, though we hoped +otherwise, on his death-bed. + +It was conveyed to me by Mr. A. P. Watt. He told me that his son had +just come from Wilkie Collins: that they had been speaking of his +novel, "Blind Love," then running in the _Illustrated London News_: +that the novel was, unfortunately, unfinished: that he himself could +not possibly finish it: and that he would be very glad, if I would +finish it if I could find the time. And that if I could undertake this +work he would send me his notes of the remainder. Wilkie Collins added +these words: "If he has the time I think he will do it: we are both old +hands at this work, and understand it, and he knows that I would do the +same for him if he were in my place." + +Under the circumstances of the case, it was impossible to decline this +request. I wrote to say that time should be made, and the notes were +forwarded to me at Robin Hood's Bay. I began by reading carefully and +twice over, so as to get a grip of the story and the novelist's +intention, the part that had already appeared, and the proofs so far as +the author had gone. I then turned to the notes. I found that these +were not merely notes such as I expected--simple indications of the +plot and the development of events, but an actual detailed scenario, in +which every incident, however trivial, was carefully laid down: there +were also fragments of dialogue inserted at those places where dialogue +was wanted to emphasise the situation and make it real. I was much +struck with the writer's perception of the vast importance of dialogue +in making the reader seize the scene. Description requires attention: +dialogue rivets attention. + +It is not an easy task, nor is it pleasant, to carry on another man's +work: but the possession of this scenario lightened the work +enormously. I have been careful to adhere faithfully and exactly to the +plot, scene by scene, down to the smallest detail as it was laid down +by the author in this book. I have altered nothing. I have preserved +and incorporated every fragment of dialogue. I have used the very +language wherever that was written so carefully as to show that it was +meant to be used. I think that there is only one trivial detail where I +had to choose because it was not clear from the notes what the author +had intended. The plot of the novel, every scene, every situation, from +beginning to end, is the work of Wilkie Collins. The actual writing is +entirely his up to a certain point: from that point to the end it is +partly his, but mainly mine. Where his writing ends and mine begins, I +need not point out. The practised critic will, no doubt, at once lay +his finger on the spot. + +I have therefore carried out the author's wishes to the best of my +ability. I would that he were living still, if only to regret that he +had not been allowed to finish his last work with his own hand! + +WALTER BESANT. + + + +BLIND LOVE + + +THE PROLOGUE + +I + +SOON after sunrise, on a cloudy morning in the year 1881, a special +messenger disturbed the repose of Dennis Howmore, at his place of +residence in the pleasant Irish town of Ardoon. + +Well acquainted apparently with the way upstairs, the man thumped on a +bed-room door, and shouted his message through it: "The master wants +you, and mind you don't keep him waiting." + +The person sending this peremptory message was Sir Giles Mountjoy of +Ardoon, knight and banker. The person receiving the message was Sir +Giles's head clerk. As a matter of course, Dennis Howmore dressed +himself at full speed, and hastened to his employer's private house on +the outskirts of the town. + +He found Sir Giles in an irritable and anxious state of mind. A letter +lay open on the banker's bed, his night-cap was crumpled crookedly on +his head, he was in too great a hurry to remember the claims of +politeness, when the clerk said "Good morning." + +"Dennis, I have got something for you to do. It must be kept a secret, +and it allows of no delay." + +"Is it anything connected with business, sir?" + +The banker lost his temper. "How can you be such an infernal fool as to +suppose that anything connected with business could happen at this time +in the morning? Do you know the first milestone on the road to Garvan?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very well. Go to the milestone, and take care that nobody sees you +when you get there. Look at the back of the stone. If you discover an +Object which appears to have been left in that situation on the ground, +bring it to me; and don't forget that the most impatient man in all +Ireland is waiting for you." + +Not a word of explanation followed these extraordinary instructions. + +The head clerk set forth on his errand, with his mind dwelling on the +national tendencies to conspiracy and assassination. His employer was +not a popular person. Sir Giles had paid rent when he owed it; and, +worse still, was disposed to remember in a friendly spirit what England +had done for Ireland, in the course of the last fifty years. If +anything appeared to justify distrust of the mysterious Object of which +he was in search, Dennis resolved to be vigilantly on the look-out for +a gun-barrel, whenever he passed a hedge on his return journey to the +town. + +Arrived at the milestone, he discovered on the ground behind it one +Object only--a fragment of a broken tea-cup. + +Naturally enough, Dennis hesitated. It seemed to be impossible that the +earnest and careful instructions which he had received could relate to +such a trifle as this. At the same time, he was acting under orders +which were as positive as tone, manner, and language could make them. +Passive obedience appeared to be the one safe course to take--at the +risk of a reception, irritating to any man's self-respect, when he +returned to his employer with a broken teacup in his hand. + +The event entirely failed to justify his misgivings. There could be no +doubt that Sir Giles attached serious importance to the contemptible +discovery made at the milestone. After having examined and re-examined +the fragment, he announced his intention of sending the clerk on a +second errand--still without troubling himself to explain what his +incomprehensible instructions meant. + +"If I am not mistaken," he began, "the Reading Rooms, in our town, open +as early as nine. Very well. Go to the Rooms this morning, on the +stroke of the clock." He stopped, and consulted the letter which lay +open on his bed. "Ask the librarian," he continued, "for the third +volume of Gibbon's 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.' Open the +book at pages seventy-eight and seventy-nine. If you find a piece of +paper between those two leaves, take possession of it when nobody is +looking at you, and bring it to me. That's all, Dennis. And bear in +mind that I shall not recover the use of my patience till I see you +again." + +On ordinary occasions, the head clerk was not a man accustomed to +insist on what was due to his dignity. At the same time he was a +sensible human being, conscious of the consideration to which his +responsible place in the office entitled him. Sir Giles's irritating +reserve, not even excused by a word of apology, reached the limits of +his endurance. He respectfully protested. + +"I regret to find, sir," he said, "that I have lost my place in my +employer's estimation. The man to whom you confide the superintendence +of your clerks and the transaction of your business has, I venture to +think, some claim (under the present circumstances) to be trusted." + +The banker was now offended on his side. + +"I readily admit your claim," he answered, "when you are sitting at +your desk in my office. But, even in these days of strikes, +co-operations, and bank holidays, an employer has one privilege +left--he has not ceased to be a Man, and he has not forfeited a man's +right to keep his own secrets. I fail to see anything in my conduct +which has given you just reason to complain." + +Dennis, rebuked, made his bow in silence, and withdrew. + +Did these acts of humility mean that he submitted? They meant exactly +the contrary. He had made up his mind that Sir Giles Mountjoy's motives +should, sooner or later, cease to be mysteries to Sir Giles Mountjoy's +clerk. + + +II + +CAREFULLY following his instructions, he consulted the third volume of +Gibbon's great History, and found, between the seventy-eighth and +seventy-ninth pages, something remarkable this time. + +It was a sheet of delicately-made paper, pierced with a number of +little holes, infinitely varied in size, and cut with the smoothest +precision. Having secured this curious object, while the librarian's +back was turned, Dennis Howmore reflected. + +A page of paper, unintelligibly perforated for some purpose unknown, +was in itself a suspicious thing. And what did suspicion suggest to the +inquiring mind in South-Western Ireland, before the suppression of the +Land League? Unquestionably---Police! + +On the way back to his employer, the banker's clerk paid a visit to an +old friend--a journalist by profession, and a man of varied learning +and experience as well. Invited to inspect the remarkable morsel of +paper, and to discover the object with which the perforations had been +made, the authority consulted proved to be worthy of the trust reposed +in him. Dennis left the newspaper office an enlightened man--with +information at the disposal of Sir Giles, and with a sense of relief +which expressed itself irreverently in these words: "Now I have got +him!" + +The bewildered banker looked backwards and forwards from the paper to +the clerk, and from the clerk to the paper. "I don't understand it," he +said. "Do you?" + +Still preserving the appearance of humility, Dennis asked leave to +venture on a guess. The perforated paper looked, as he thought, like a +Puzzle. "If we wait for a day or two," he suggested, "the Key to it may +possibly reach us." + +On the next day, nothing happened. On the day after, a second letter +made another audacious demand on the fast failing patience of Sir Giles +Mountjoy. + +Even the envelope proved to be a Puzzle on this occasion; the postmark +was "Ardoon." In other words, the writer had used the postman as a +messenger, while he or his accomplice was actually in the town, posting +the letter within half-a-minute's walk of the bank! The contents +presented an impenetrable mystery, the writing looked worthy of a +madman. Sentences appeared in the wildest state of confusion, and words +were so mutilated as to be unintelligible. This time the force of +circumstances was more than Sir Giles could resist. He took the clerk +into his confidence at last. + +"Let us begin at the beginning," he said. "There is the letter you saw +on my bed, when I first sent for you. I found it waiting on my table +when I woke; and I don't know who put it there. Read it." + +Dennis read as follows: + +"Sir Giles Mountjoy,--I have a disclosure to make, in which one of the +members of your family is seriously interested. Before I can venture to +explain myself, I must be assured that I can trust to your good faith. +As a test of this, I require you to fulfil the two conditions that +follow--and to do it without the slightest loss of time. I dare not +trust you yet with my address, or my signature. Any act of +carelessness, on my part, might end fatally for the true friend who +writes these lines. If you neglect this warning, you will regret it to +the end of your life." + +To the conditions on which the letter insisted there is no need to +allude. They had been complied with when the discoveries were made at +the back of the milestone, and between the pages of Gibson's history. +Sir Giles had already arrived at the conclusion that a conspiracy was +in progress to assassinate him, and perhaps to rob the bank. The wiser +head clerk pointed to the perforated paper and the incomprehensible +writing received that morning. "If we can find out what these mean," he +said, "you may be better able, sir, to form a correct opinion." + +"And who is to do that?" the banker asked. + +"I can but try, sir," was the modest reply, "if you see no objection to +my making the attempt." + +Sir Giles approved of the proposed experiment, silently and +satirically, by a bend of his head. + +Too discreet a man to make a suspiciously ready use of the information +which he had privately obtained, Dennis took care that his first +attempt should not be successful. After modestly asking permission to +try again, he ventured on the second occasion to arrive at a happy +discovery. Lifting the perforated paper, he placed it delicately over +the page which contained the unintelligible writing. Words and +sentences now appeared (through the holes in the paper) in their right +spelling and arrangement, and addressed Sir Giles in these terms: + +"I beg to thank you, sir, for complying with my conditions. You have +satisfied me of your good faith. At the same time, it is possible that +you may hesitate to trust a man who is not yet able to admit you to his +confidence. The perilous position in which I stand obliges me to ask +for two or three days more of delay, before I can safely make an +appointment with you. Pray be patient--and on no account apply for +advice or protection to the police." + +"Those last words," Sir Giles declared, "are conclusive! The sooner I +am under the care of the law the better. Take my card to the +police-office." + +"May I say a word first, sir?" + +"Do you mean that you don't agree with me?" + +"I mean that." + +"You were always an obstinate man Dennis; and it grows on you as you +get older. Never mind! Let's have it out. Who do _you_ say is the +person pointed at in these rascally letters?" + +The head clerk took up the first letter of the two and pointed to the +opening sentence: "Sir Giles Mountjoy, I have a disclosure to make in +which one of the members of your family is seriously interested." +Dennis emphatically repeated the words: "one of the members of your +family." His employer regarded him with a broad stare of astonishment. + +"One of the members of my family?" Sir Giles repeated, on his side. +"Why, man alive, what are you thinking of? I'm an old bachelor, and I +haven't got a family." + +"There is your brother, sir." + +"My brother is in France--out of the way of the wretches who are +threatening me. I wish I was with him!" + +"There are your brother's two sons, Sir Giles." + +"Well? And what is there to be afraid of? My nephew, Hugh, is in +London--and, mind! not on a political errand. I hope, before long, to +hear that he is going to be married--if the strangest and nicest girl +in England will have him. What's wrong now?" + +Dennis explained. "I only wished to say, sir, that I was thinking of +your other nephew." + +Sir Giles laughed. "Arthur in danger!" he exclaimed. "As harmless a +young man as ever lived. The worst one can say of him is that he is +throwing away his money--farming in Kerry." + +"Excuse me, Sir Giles; there's not much chance of his throwing away his +money, where he is now. Nobody will venture to take his money. I met +with one of Mr. Arthur's neighbours at the market yesterday. Your +nephew is boycotted." + +"So much the better," the obstinate banker declared. "He will be cured +of his craze for farming; and he will come back to the place I am +keeping for him in the office." + +"God grant it!" the clerk said fervently. + +For the moment, Sir Giles was staggered. "Have you heard something that +you haven't told me yet?" he asked. + +"No, sir. I am only bearing in mind something which--with all +respect--I think you have forgotten. The last tenant on that bit of +land in Kerry refused to pay his rent. Mr. Arthur has taken what they +call an evicted farm. It's my firm belief," said the head clerk, rising +and speaking earnestly, "that the person who has addressed those +letters to you knows Mr. Arthur, and knows he is in danger--and is +trying to save your nephew (by means of your influence), at the risk of +his own life." + +Sir Giles shook his head. "I call that a far-fetched interpretation, +Dennis. If what you say is true, why didn't the writer of those +anonymous letters address himself to Arthur, instead of to me?" + +"I gave it as my opinion just now, sir, that the writer of the letter +knew Mr. Arthur." + +"So you did. And what of that?" + +Dennis stood to his guns. + +"Anybody who is acquainted with Mr. Arthur," he persisted, "knows that +(with all sorts of good qualities) the young gentleman is headstrong +and rash. If a friend told him he was in danger on the farm, that would +be enough of itself to make him stop where he is, and brave it out. +Whereas you, sir, are known to be cautious and careful, and farseeing +and discreet." He might have added: And cowardly and obstinate, and +narrow-minded and inflated by stupid self-esteem. But respect for his +employer had blindfolded the clerk's observation for many a long year +past. If one man may be born with the heart of a lion, another man may +be born with the mind of a mule. Dennis's master was one of the other +men. + +"Very well put," Sir Giles answered indulgently. "Time will show, if +such an entirely unimportant person as my nephew Arthur is likely to be +assassinated. That allusion to one of the members of my family is a +mere equivocation, designed to throw me off my guard. Rank, money, +social influence, unswerving principles, mark ME out as a public +character. Go to the police-office, and let the best man who happens to +be off duty come here directly." + +Good Dennis Howmore approached the door very unwillingly. It was +opened, from the outer side, before he had reached that end of the +room. One of the bank porters announced a visitor. + +"Miss Henley wishes to know, sir, if you can see her." + +Sir Giles looked agreeably surprised. He rose with alacrity to receive +the lady. + + +III + +WHEN Iris Henley dies there will, in all probability, be friends left +who remember her and talk of her--and there may be strangers present at +the time (women for the most part), whose curiosity will put questions +relating to her personal appearance. No replies will reward them with +trustworthy information. Miss Henley's chief claim to admiration lay in +a remarkable mobility of expression, which reflected every change of +feeling peculiar to the nature of a sweet and sensitive woman. For this +reason, probably, no descriptions of her will agree with each other. No +existing likenesses will represent her. The one portrait that was +painted of Iris is only recognisable by partial friends of the artist. +In and out of London, photographic likenesses were taken of her. They +have the honour of resembling the portraits of Shakespeare in this +respect--compared with one another, it is not possible to discover that +they present the same person. As for the evidence offered by the loving +memory of her friends, it is sure to be contradictory in the last +degree. She had a charming face, a commonplace face, an intelligent +face--a poor complexion, a delicate complexion, no complexion at +all--eyes that were expressive of a hot temper, of a bright intellect, +of a firm character, of an affectionate disposition, of a truthful +nature, of hysterical sensibility, of inveterate obstinacy--a figure +too short; no, just the right height; no, neither one thing nor the +other; elegant, if you like--dress shabby: oh, surely not; dress quiet +and simple; no, something more than that; ostentatiously quiet, +theatrically simple, worn with the object of looking unlike other +people. In one last word, was this mass of contradictions generally +popular, in the time when it was a living creature? Yes--among the men. +No--not invariably. The man of all others who ought to have been +fondest of her was the man who behaved cruelly to Iris--her own father. +And, when the poor creature married (if she did marry), how many of you +attended the wedding? Not one of us! And when she died, how many of you +were sorry for her? All of us! What? no difference of opinion in that +one particular? On the contrary, perfect concord, thank God. + +Let the years roll back, and let Iris speak for herself, at the +memorable time when she was in the prime of her life, and when a stormy +career was before her. + + +IV + +BEING Miss Henley's godfather, Sir Giles was a privileged person. He +laid his hairy hands on her shoulders, and kissed her on either cheek. +After that prefatory act of endearment, he made his inquiries. What +extraordinary combination of events had led Iris to leave London, and +had brought her to visit him in his banking-house at Ardoon? + +"I wanted to get away from home," she answered; "and having nobody to +go to but my godfather, I thought I should like to see You." + +"Alone!" cried Sir Giles. + +"No--with my maid to keep me company." + +"Only your maid, Iris? Surely you have acquaintances among young ladies +like yourself?" + +"Acquaintances--yes. No friends." + +"Does your father approve of what you have done?" + +"Will you grant me a favour, godpapa?" + +"Yes--if I can." + +"Don't insist on my answering your last question." + +The faint colour that had risen in her face, when she entered the room, +left it. At the same time, the expression of her mouth altered. The +lips closed firmly; revealing that strongest of all resolutions which +is founded on a keen sense of wrong. She looked older than her age: +what she might be ten years hence, she was now. Sir Giles understood +her. He got up, and took a turn in the room. An old habit, of which he +had cured himself with infinite difficulty when he was made a Knight, +showed itself again. He put his hands in his pockets. + +"You and your father have had another quarrel," he said, stopping +opposite Iris. + +"I don't deny it," she replied. + +"Who is to blame?" + +She smiled bitterly. "The woman is always to blame." + +"Did your father tell you that?" + +"My father reminded me that I was twenty-one years old, last +birthday--and told me that I could do as I liked. I understood him, and +I left the house." + +"You will go back again, I suppose?" + +"I don't know." + +Sir Giles began pacing the room once more. His rugged face, telling its +story of disaster and struggle in early life, showed signs of +disappointment and distress. + +"Hugh promised to write to me," he said, "and he has not written. I +know what that means; I know what you have done to offend your father. +My nephew has asked you to marry him for the second time. And for the +second time you have refused." + +Her face softened; its better and younger aspect revived. "Yes," she +said, sadly and submissively; "I have refused him again." + +Sir Giles lost his temper. "What the devil is your objection to Hugh?" +he burst out. + +"My father said the same thing to me," she replied, "almost in the same +words. I made him angry when I tried to give my reason. I don't want to +make you angry, too." + +He took no notice of this. "Isn't Hugh a good fellow?" he went on. +"Isn't he affectionate? and kindhearted? and honourable?--aye, and a +handsome man too, if you come to that." + +"Hugh is all that you say. I like him; I admire him; I owe to his +kindness some of the happiest days of my sad life, and I am +grateful--oh, with all my heart, I am grateful to Hugh!" + +"If that's true, Iris----" + +"Every word of it is true." + +"I say, if that's true--there's no excuse for you. I hate perversity in +a young woman! Why don't you marry him?" + +"Try to feel for me," she said gently; "I can't love him." + +Her tone said more to the banker than her words had expressed. The +secret sorrow of her life, which was known to her father, was known +also to Sir Giles. + +"Now we have come to it at last!" he said. "You can't love my nephew +Hugh. And you won't tell me the reason why, because your sweet temper +shrinks from making me angry. Shall I mention the reason for you, my +dear? I can do it in two words--Lord Harry." + +She made no reply; she showed no sign of feeling at what he had just +said. Her head sank a little; her hands clasped themselves on her lap; +the obstinate resignation which can submit to anything hardened her +face, stiffened her figure--and that was all. + +The banker was determined not to spare her. + +"It's easy to see," he resumed, "that you have not got over your +infatuation for that vagabond yet. Go where he may, into the vilest +places and among the lowest people, he carries your heart along with +him. I wonder you are not ashamed of such an attachment as that." + +He had stung her at last. She roused herself, and answered him. + +"Harry has led a wild life," she said; "he has committed serious +faults, and he may live to do worse than he has done yet. To what +degradation, bad company, and a bad bringing-up may yet lead him, I +leave his enemies to foresee. But I tell you this, he has redeeming +qualities which you, and people like you, are not good Christians +enough to discover. He has friends who can still appreciate him--your +nephew, Arthur Mountjoy, is one of them. Oh, I know it by Arthur's +letters to me! Blame Lord Harry as you may, I tell you he has the +capacity for repentance in him, and one day--when it is too late, I +dare say--he will show it. I can never be his wife. We are parted, +never in all likelihood to meet again. Well, he is the only man whom I +have ever loved; and he is the only man whom I ever shall love. If you +think this state of mind proves that I am as bad as he is, I won't +contradict you. Do we any of us know how bad we are----? Have you heard +of Harry lately?" + +The sudden transition, from an earnest and devoted defence of the man, +to an easy and familiar inquiry about him, startled Sir Giles. + +For the moment, he had nothing to say; Iris had made him think. She had +shown a capacity for mastering her strongest feelings, at the moment +when they threatened to overcome her, which is very rarely found in a +young woman. How to manage her was a problem for patient resolution to +solve. The banker's obstinacy, rather than his conviction, had +encouraged him to hold to the hope of Hugh's marriage, even after his +nephew had been refused for the second time. His headstrong goddaughter +had come to visit him of her own accord. She had not forgotten the days +of her childhood, when he had some influence over her--when she had +found him kinder to her than her father had ever been. Sir Giles saw +that he had taken the wrong tone with Iris. His anger had not alarmed +her; his opinion had not influenced her. In Hugh's interests, he +determined to try what consideration and indulgence would do towards +cultivating the growth of her regard for him. Finding that she had left +her maid and her luggage at the hotel, he hospitably insisted on their +removal to his own house. + +"While you are in Ardoon, Iris, you are my guest," he said. + +She pleased him by readily accepting the invitation--and then annoyed +him by asking again if he had heard anything of Lord Harry. + +He answered shortly and sharply: "I have heard nothing. What is _your_ +last news of him?" + +"News," she said, "which I sincerely hope is not true. An Irish paper +has been sent to me, which reports that he has joined the secret +society--nothing better than a society of assassins, I am afraid--which +is known by the name of the Invincibles." + +As she mentioned that formidable brotherhood, Dennis Howmore returned +from the police-office. He announced that a Sergeant was then waiting +to receive instructions from Sir Giles. + + +V + +IRIS rose to go. Her godfather courteously stopped her. + +"Wait here," he said, "until I have spoken to the Sergeant, and I will +escort you to my house. My clerk will do what is necessary at the +hotel. You don't look quite satisfied. Is the arrangement that I have +proposed not agreeable to you?" + +Iris assured him that she gratefully acceded to the arrangement. At the +same time, she confessed to having been a little startled, on +discovering that he was in consultation with the police. "I remember +that we are in Ireland," she explained, "and I am foolish enough to +fear that you may be in some danger. May I hope that it is only a +trifle?" + +Only a trifle! Among ether deficient sensibilities in the strange +nature of Iris, Sir Giles had observed an imperfect appreciation of the +dignity of his social position. Here was a new proof of it! The +temptation to inspire sentiments of alarm--not unmingled with +admiration--in the mind of his insensible goddaughter, by exhibiting +himself as a public character threatened by a conspiracy, was more than +the banker's vanity could resist. Before he left the room, he +instructed Dennis to tell Miss Henley what had happened, and to let her +judge for herself whether he had been needlessly alarmed by, what she +was pleased to call, "a mere trifle." + +Dennis Howmore must have been more than mortal, if he could have +related his narrative of events without being influenced by his own +point of view. On the first occasion when he mentioned Arthur +Mountjoy's name, Iris showed a sudden interest in his strange story +which took him by surprise. + +"You know Mr. Arthur?" he said. + +"Knew him!" Iris repeated. "He was my playfellow when we were both +children. He is as dear to me as if he was my brother. Tell me at +once--is he really in danger?" + +Dennis honestly repeated what he had already said, on that subject, to +his master. Miss Henley, entirely agreeing with him, was eager to warn +Arthur of his position. There was no telegraphic communication with the +village which was near his farm. She could only write to him, and she +did write to him, by that day's post--having reasons of her own for +anxiety, which forbade her to show her letter to Dennis. Well aware of +the devoted friendship which united Lord Harry and Arthur Mountjoy--and +bearing in mind the newspaper report of the Irish lord's rash +association with the Invincibles--her fears now identified the noble +vagabond as the writer of the anonymous letters, which had so seriously +excited her godfather's doubts of his own safety. + +When Sir Giles returned, and took her with him to his house, he spoke +of his consultation with the Sergeant in terms which increased her +dread of what might happen in the future. She was a dull and silent +guest, during the interval that elapsed before it would be possible to +receive Arthur's reply. The day arrived--and the post brought no relief +to her anxieties. The next day passed without a letter. On the morning +of the fourth day, Sir Giles rose later than usual. His correspondence +was sent to him from the office, at breakfast-time. After opening one +of the letters, he dispatched a messenger in hot haste to the police. + +"Look at that," he said, handing the letter to Iris. "Does the assassin +take me for a fool?" + +She read the lines that follow: + +"Unforeseen events force me, Sir Giles, to run a serious risk. I must +speak to you, and it must not be by daylight. My one hope of safety is +in darkness. Meet me at the first milestone, on the road to Garvan, +when the moon sets at ten o'clock to-night. No need to mention your +name. The password is: _Fidelity."_ + +"Do you mean to go?" Iris asked. + +"Do I mean to be murdered!" Sir Giles broke out. "My dear child, do +pray try to think before you speak. The Sergeant will represent me, of +course." + +"And take the man prisoner?" Iris added. + +"Certainly!" + +With that startling reply, the banker hurried away to receive the +police in another room. Iris dropped into the nearest chair. The turn +that the affair had now taken filled her with unutterable dismay. + +Sir Giles came back, after no very long absence, composed and smiling. +The course of proceeding had been settled to his complete satisfaction. + +Dressed in private clothes, the Sergeant was to go to the milestone at +the appointed time, representing the banker in the darkness, and giving +the password. He was to be followed by two of his men who would wait in +concealment, within hearing of his whistle, if their services were +required. "I want to see the ruffian when he is safely handcuffed," Sir +Giles explained; "and I have arranged to wait for the police, to-night, +at my office." + +There was but one desperate way that Iris could now discern of saving +the man who had confided in her godfather's honour, and whose trust had +already been betrayed. Never had she loved the outlawed Irish lord--the +man whom she was forbidden, and rightly forbidden, to marry--as she +loved him at that moment. Let the risk be what it might, this resolute +woman had determined that the Sergeant should not be the only person +who arrived at the milestone, and gave the password. There was one +devoted friend to Lord Harry, whom she could always trust--and that +friend was herself. + +Sir Giles withdrew, to look after his business at the bank. She waited +until the clock had struck the servants' dinner hour, and then ascended +the stairs to her godfather's dressing-room. Opening his wardrobe, she +discovered in one part of it a large Spanish cloak, and, in another +part, a high-crowned felt hat which he wore on his country excursions. +In the dark, here was disguise enough for her purpose. + +As she left the dressing-room, a measure of precaution occurred to her, +which she put in action at once. Telling her maid that she had some +purchases to make in the town, she went out, and asked her way to +Garvan of the first respectable stranger whom she met in the street. +Her object was to walk as far as the first milestone, in daylight, so +as to be sure of finding it again by night. She had made herself +familiar with the different objects on the road, when she returned to +the banker's house. + +As the time for the arrest drew nearer, Sir Giles became too restless +to wait patiently at home. He went away to the police-office, eager to +hear if any new counter-conspiracy had occurred to the authorities. + +It was dark soon after eight o'clock, at that time of the year. At nine +the servants assembled at the supper-table. They were all downstairs +together, talking, and waiting for their meal. + +Feeling the necessity of arriving at the place of meeting, in time to +keep out of the Sergeant's way, Iris assumed her disguise as the clock +struck nine. She left the house without a living creature to notice +her, indoors or out. Clouds were gathering over the sky. The waning +moon was only to be seen at intervals, as she set forth on her way to +the milestone. + + +VI + +THE wind rose a little, and the rifts in the clouds began to grow +broader as Iris gained the high road. + +For a while, the glimmer of the misty moonlight lit the way before her. +As well as she could guess, she had passed over more than half of the +distance between the town and the milestone before the sky darkened +again. Objects by the wayside grew shadowy and dim. A few drops of rain +began to fall. The milestone, as she knew--thanks to the discovery of +it made by daylight--was on the right-hand side of the road. But the +dull-grey colour of the stone was not easy to see in the dark. + +A doubt troubled her whether she might not have passed the milestone. +She stopped and looked at the sky. + +The threatening of rain had passed away: signs showed themselves which +seemed to promise another break in the clouds. She waited. Low and +faint, the sinking moonlight looked its last at the dull earth. In +front of her, there was nothing to be seen but the road. She looked +back--and discovered the milestone. + +A rough stone wall protected the land on either side of the road. +Nearly behind the milestone there was a gap in this fence, partially +closed by a hurdle. A half-ruined culvert, arching a ditch that had run +dry, formed a bridge leading from the road to the field. Had the field +been already chosen as a place of concealment by the police? Nothing +was to be seen but a footpath, and the dusky line of a plantation +beyond it. As she made these discoveries, the rain began to fall again; +the clouds gathered once more; the moonlight vanished. + +At the same moment an obstacle presented itself to her mind, which Iris +had thus far failed to foresee. + +Lord Harry might approach the milestone by three different ways: that +is to say--by the road from the town, or by the road from the open +country, or by way of the field and the culvert. How could she so place +herself as to be sure of warning him, before he fell into the hands of +the police? To watch the three means of approach in the obscurity of +the night, and at one and the same time, was impossible. + +A man in this position, guided by reason, would in all probability have +wasted precious time in trying to arrive at the right decision. A +woman, aided by love, conquered the difficulty that confronted her in a +moment. + +Iris decided on returning to the milestone, and on waiting there to be +discovered and taken prisoner by the police. Supposing Lord Harry to be +punctual to his appointment, he would hear voices and movements, as a +necessary consequence of the arrest, in time to make his escape. +Supposing him on the other hand to be late, the police would be on the +way back to the town with their prisoner: he would find no one at the +milestone, and would leave it again in safety. + +She was on the point of turning, to get back to the road, when +something on the dark surface of the field, which looked like a darker +shadow, became dimly visible. In another moment it seemed to be a +shadow that moved. She ran towards it. It looked like a man as she drew +nearer. The man stopped. + +"The password," he said, in tones cautiously lowered. + +"Fidelity," she answered in a whisper. + +It was too dark for a recognition of his features; but Iris knew him by +his tall stature--knew him by the accent in which he had asked for the +password. Erroneously judging of her, on his side, as a man, he drew +back again. Sir Giles Mountjoy was above the middle height; the +stranger in a cloak, who had whispered to him, was below it. "You are +not the person I expected to meet," he said. "Who are you?" + +Her faithful heart was longing to tell him the truth. The temptation to +reveal herself, and to make the sweet confession of her happiness at +having saved him, would have overpowered her discretion, but for a +sound that was audible on the road behind them. In the deep silence of +the time and place mistake was impossible. It was the sound of +footsteps. + +There was just time to whisper to him: "Sir Giles has betrayed you. +Save yourself." + +"Thank you, whoever you are!" + +With that reply, he suddenly and swiftly disappeared. Iris remembered +the culvert, and turned towards it. There was a hiding-place under the +arch, if she could only get down into the dry ditch in time. She was +feeling her way to the slope of it with her feet, when a heavy hand +seized her by the arm; and a resolute voice said: "You are my +prisoner." + +She was led back into the road. The man who had got her blew a whistle. +Two other men joined him. + +"Show a light," he said; "and let's see who the fellow is." + +The shade was slipped aside from a lantern: the light fell full on the +prisoner's face. Amazement petrified the two attendant policemen. The +pious Catholic Sergeant burst into speech: "Holy Mary! it's a woman!" + +Did the secret societies of Ireland enrol women? Was this a modern +Judith, expressing herself by anonymous letters, and bent on +assassinating a financial Holofernes who kept a bank? What account had +she to give of herself? How came she to be alone in a desolate field on +a rainy night? Instead of answering these questions, the inscrutable +stranger preferred a bold and brief request. "Take me to Sir +Giles"--was all she said to the police. + +The Sergeant had the handcuffs ready. After looking at the prisoner's +delicate wrists by the lantern-light, he put his fetters back in his +pocket. "A lady--and no doubt about it," he said to one of his +assistants. + +The two men waited, with a mischievous interest in seeing what he would +do next. The list of their pious officer's virtues included a +constitutional partiality for women, which exhibited the merciful side +of justice when a criminal wore a petticoat. "We will take you to Sir +Giles, Miss," he said--and offered his arm, instead of offering his +handcuffs. Iris understood him, and took his arm. + + +She was silent--unaccountably silent as the men thought--on the way to +the town. They heard her sigh: and, once, the sigh sounded more like a +sob; little did they suspect what was in that silent woman's mind at +the time. + +The one object which had absorbed the attention of Iris had been the +saving of Lord Harry. This accomplished, the free exercise of her +memory had now reminded her of Arthur Mountjoy. + +It was impossible to doubt that the object of the proposed meeting at +the milestone had been to take measures for the preservation of the +young man's life. A coward is always more or less cruel. The +proceedings (equally treacherous and merciless) by which Sir Giles had +provided for his own safety, had delayed--perhaps actually +prevented--the execution of Lord Harry's humane design. It was +possible, horribly possible, that a prompt employment of time might +have been necessary to the rescue of Arthur from impending death by +murder. In the agitation that overpowered her, Iris actually hurried +the police on their return to the town. + +Sir Giles had arranged to wait for news in his private room at the +office--and there he was, with Dennis Howmore in attendance to receive +visitors. + +The Sergeant went into the banker's room alone, to make his report. He +left the door ajar; Iris could hear what passed. + +"Have you got your prisoner?" Sir Giles began. + +"Yes, your honour." + +"Is the wretch securely handcuffed?" + +"I beg your pardon, sir, it isn't a man." + +"Nonsense, Sergeant; it can't be a boy." + +The Sergeant confessed that it was not a boy. "It's a woman," he said. + +"What!!!" + +"A woman," the patient officer repeated--"and a young one. She asked +for You." + +"Bring her in." + +Iris was not the sort of person who waits to be brought in. She walked +in, of her own accord. + + +VII + +"GOOD Heavens!" cried Sir Giles. "Iris! With my cloak on!! With my hat +in her hand!!! Sergeant, there has been some dreadful mistake. This is +my god-daughter--Miss Henley." + +"We found her at the milestone, your honour. The young lady and nobody +else." + +Sir Giles appealed helplessly to his god-daughter. "What does this +mean?" Instead of answering, she looked at the Sergeant. The Sergeant, +conscious of responsibility, stood his ground and looked at Sir Giles. +His face confessed that the Irish sense of humour was tickled: but he +showed no intention of leaving the room. Sir Giles saw that Iris would +enter into no explanation in the man's presence. "You needn't wait any +longer," he said. + +"What am I to do, if you please, with the prisoner?" the Sergeant +inquired. + +Sir Giles waived that unnecessary question away with his hand. He was +trebly responsible--as knight, banker, and magistrate into the bargain. +"I will be answerable," he replied, "for producing Miss Henley, if +called upon. Good night." + +The Sergeant's sense of duty was satisfied. He made the military +salute. His gallantry added homage to the young lady under the form of +a bow. Then, and then only, he walked with dignity out of the room. + +"Now," Sir Giles resumed, "I presume I may expect to receive an +explanation. What does this impropriety mean? What were you doing at +the milestone?" + +"I was saving the person who made the appointment with you," Iris said; +"the poor fellow had no ill-will towards you--who had risked everything +to save your nephew's life. Oh, sir, you committed a terrible mistake +when you refused to trust that man!" + +Sir Giles had anticipated the appearance of fear, and the reality of +humble apologies. She had answered him indignantly, with a heightened +colour, and with tears in her eyes. His sense of his own social +importance was wounded to the quick. "Who is the man you are speaking +of?" he asked loftily. "And what is your excuse for having gone to the +milestone to save him--hidden under my cloak, disguised in my hat?" + +"Don't waste precious time in asking questions!" was the desperate +reply. "Undo the harm that you have done already. Your help--oh, I mean +what I say!--may yet preserve Arthur's life. Go to the farm, and save +him." + +Sir Giles's anger assumed a new form, it indulged in an elaborate +mockery of respect. He took his watch from his pocket, and consulted it +satirically. "Must I make an excuse?" he asked with a clumsy assumption +of humility. + +"No! you must go." + +"Permit me to inform you, Miss Henley, that the last train started more +than two hours since." + +"What does that matter? You are rich enough to hire a train." + +Sir Giles, the actor, could endure it no longer; he dropped the mask, +and revealed Sir Giles, the man. His clerk was summoned by a peremptory +ring of the bell. "Attend Miss Henley to the house," he said. "You may +come to your senses after a night's rest," he continued, turning +sternly to Iris. "I will receive your excuses in the morning." + + +In the morning, the breakfast was ready as usual at nine o'clock. Sir +Giles found himself alone at the table. + +He sent an order to one of the women-servants to knock at Miss Henley's +door. There was a long delay. The housekeeper presented herself in a +state of alarm; she had gone upstairs to make the necessary +investigation in her own person. Miss Henley was not in her room; the +maid was not in her room; the beds had not been slept in; the heavy +luggage was labelled--"To be called for from the hotel." And there was +an end of the evidence which the absent Iris had left behind her. + +Inquiries were made at the hotel. The young lady had called there, with +her maid, early on that morning. They had their travelling-bags with +them; and Miss Henley had left directions that the luggage was to be +placed under care of the landlord until her return. To what destination +she had betaken herself nobody knew. + +Sir Giles was too angry to remember what she had said to him on the +previous night, or he might have guessed at the motive which had led to +her departure. "Her father has done with her already," he said; "and I +have done with her now." The servants received orders not to admit Miss +Henley, if her audacity contemplated a return to her godfather's house. + + +VIII + +ON the afternoon of the same day, Iris arrived at the village situated +in the near neighbourhood of Arthur Mountjoy's farm. + +The infection of political excitement (otherwise the hatred of England) +had spread even to this remote place. On the steps of his little +chapel, the priest, a peasant himself, was haranguing his brethren of +the soil. An Irishman who paid his landlord was a traitor to his +country; an Irishman who asserted his free birthright in the land that +he walked on was an enlightened patriot. Such was the new law which the +reverend gentleman expounded to his attentive audience. If his brethren +there would like him to tell them how they might apply the law, this +exemplary Christian would point to the faithless Irishman, Arthur +Mountjoy. "Buy not of him, sell not to him; avoid him if he approaches +you; starve him out of the place. I might say more, boys--you know what +I mean." + +To hear the latter part of this effort of oratory, without uttering a +word of protest, was a trial of endurance under which Iris trembled. +The secondary effect of the priest's address was to root the conviction +of Arthur's danger with tenfold tenacity in her mind. After what she +had just heard, even the slightest delay in securing his safety might +be productive of deplorable results. She astonished a barefooted boy, +on the outskirts of the crowd, by a gift of sixpence, and asked her way +to the farm. The little Irishman ran on before her, eager to show the +generous lady how useful he could be. In less than half an hour, Iris +and her maid were at the door of the farm-house. No such civilised +inventions appeared as a knocker or a bell. The boy used his knuckles +instead--and ran away when he heard the lock of the door turned on the +inner side. He was afraid to be seen speaking to any living creature +who inhabited the "evicted farm." + +A decent old woman appeared, and inquired suspiciously "what the ladies +wanted." The accent in which she spoke was unmistakably English. When +Iris asked for Mr. Arthur Mountjoy the reply was: "Not at home." The +housekeeper inhospitably attempted to close the door. "Wait one +moment," Iris said. "Years have changed you; but there is something in +your face which is not quite strange to me. Are you Mrs. Lewson?" + +The woman admitted that this was her name. "But how is it that you are +a stranger to me?" she asked distrustfully. + +"If you have been long in Mr. Mountjoy's service," Iris replied, "you +may perhaps have heard him speak of Miss Henley?" + +Mrs. Lewson's face brightened in an instant; she threw the door wide +open with a glad cry of recognition. + +"Come in, Miss, come in! Who would have thought of seeing you in this +horrible place? Yes; I was the nurse who looked after you all +three--when you and Mr. Arthur and Mr. Hugh were playfellows together." +Her eyes rested longingly on her favourite of bygone days. The +sensitive sympathies of Iris interpreted that look. She prettily +touched her cheek, inviting the nurse to kiss her. At this act of +kindness the poor old woman broke down; she apologised quaintly for her +tears: "Think, Miss, how _I_ must remember that happy time--when _you_ +have not forgotten it." + +Shown into the parlour, the first object which the visitor noticed was +the letter that she had written to Arthur lying unopened on the table. + +"Then he is really out of the house?" she said with a feeling of +relief. + +He had been away from the farm for a week or more. Had he received a +warning from some other quarter? and had he wisely sought refuge in +flight? The amazement in the housekeeper's face, when she heard these +questions, pleaded for a word of explanation. Iris acknowledged without +reserve the motives which had suggested her journey, and asked eagerly +if she had been mistaken in assuming that Arthur was in danger of +assassination. + +Mrs. Lewson shook her head. Beyond all doubt the young master was in +danger. But Miss Iris ought to have known his nature better than to +suppose that he would beat a retreat, if all the land-leaguers in +Ireland threatened him together. No! It was his bold way to laugh at +danger. He had left his farm to visit a friend in the next county; and +it was shrewdly guessed that a young lady who was staying in the house +was the attraction which had kept him so long away. "Anyhow, he means +to come back to-morrow," Mrs. Lewson said. "I wish he would think +better of it, and make his escape to England while he has the chance. +If the savages in these parts must shoot somebody, I'm here--an old +woman that can't last much longer. Let them shoot me." + +Iris asked if Arthur's safety was assured in the next county, and in +the house of his friend. + +"I can't say, Miss; I have never been to the house. He is in danger if +he persists in coming back to the farm. There are chances of shooting +him all along his road home. Oh, yes; he knows it, poor dear, as well +as I do. But, there!--men like him are such perverse creatures. He +takes his rides just as usual. No; he won't listen to an old woman like +me; and, as for friends to advise him, the only one of them that has +darkened our doors is a scamp who had better have kept away. You may +have heard tell of him. The old Earl, his wicked father, used to be +called by a bad name. And the wild young lord is his father's true +son." + +"Not Lord Harry?" Iris exclaimed. + +The outbreak of agitation in her tone and manner was silently noticed +by her maid. The housekeeper did not attempt to conceal the impression +that had been produced upon her. "I hope you don't know such a vagabond +as that?" she said very seriously. "Perhaps you are thinking of his +brother--the eldest son--a respectable man, as I have been told?" + +Miss Henley passed over these questions without notice. Urged by the +interest in her lover, which was now more than ever an interest beyond +her control, she said: "Is Lord Harry in danger, on account of his +friend?" + +"He has nothing to fear from the wretches who infest our part of the +country," Mrs. Lewson replied. "Report says he's one of themselves. The +police--there's what his young lordship has to be afraid of, if all's +true that is said about him. Anyhow, when he paid his visit to my +master, he came secretly like a thief in the night. And I heard Mr. +Arthur, while they were together here in the parlour, loud in blaming +him for something that he had done. No more, Miss, of Lord Harry! I +have something particular to say to you. Suppose I promise to make you +comfortable--will you please wait here till to-morrow, and see Mr. +Arthur and speak to him? If there's a person living who can persuade +him to take better care of himself, I do believe it will be you." + +Iris readily consented to wait for Arthur Mountjoy's return. Left +together, while Mrs. Lewson was attending to her domestic duties, the +mistress noticed an appearance of pre-occupation in the maid's face. + +"Are you beginning to wish, Rhoda," she said, "that I had not brought +you to this strange place, among these wild people?" + +The maid was a quiet amiable girl, evidently in delicate health. She +smiled faintly. "I was thinking, Miss, of another nobleman besides the +one Mrs. Lewson mentioned just now, who seems to have led a reckless +life. It was printed in a newspaper that I read before we left London." + +"Was his name mentioned?" Iris asked. + +"No, Miss; I suppose they were afraid of giving offence. He tried so +many strange ways of getting a living--it was almost like reading a +story-book." + +The suppression of the name suggested a suspicion from which Iris +recoiled. Was it possible that her maid could be ignorantly alluding to +Lord Harry? + +"Do you remember this hero's adventures?" she said. + +"I can try, Miss, if you wish to hear about him." + +The newspaper narrative appeared to have produced a vivid impression on +Rhoda's mind. Making allowance for natural hesitations and mistakes, +and difficulties in expressing herself correctly, she repeated with a +singularly clear recollection the substance of what she had read. + + +IX + +THE principal characters in the story were an old Irish nobleman, who +was called the Earl, and the youngest of his two sons, mysteriously +distinguished as "the wild lord." + +It was said of the Earl that he had not been a good father; he had +cruelly neglected both his sons. The younger one, badly treated at +school, and left to himself in the holidays, began his adventurous +career by running away. He got employment (under an assumed name) as a +ship's boy. At the outset, he did well; learning his work, and being +liked by the Captain and the crew. But the chief mate was a brutal man, +and the young runaway's quick temper resented the disgraceful +infliction of blows. He made up his mind to try his luck on shore, and +attached himself to a company of strolling players. Being a handsome +lad, with a good figure and a fine clear voice, he did very well for a +while on the country stage. Hard times came; salaries were reduced; the +adventurer wearied of the society of actors and actresses. His next +change of life presented him in North Britain as a journalist, employed +on a Scotch newspaper. An unfortunate love affair was the means of +depriving him of this new occupation. He was recognised, soon +afterwards, serving as assistant steward in one of the passenger +steamers voyaging between Liverpool and New York. Arrived in this last +city, he obtained notoriety, of no very respectable kind, as a "medium" +claiming powers of supernatural communication with the world of +spirits. When the imposture was ultimately discovered, he had gained +money by his unworthy appeal to the meanly prosaic superstition of +modern times. A long interval had then elapsed, and nothing had been +heard of him, when a starving man was discovered by a traveller, lost +on a Western prairie. The ill-fated Irish lord had associated himself +with an Indian tribe--had committed some offence against their +laws--and had been deliberately deserted and left to die. On his +recovery, he wrote to his elder brother (who had inherited the title +and estates on the death of the old Earl) to say that he was ashamed of +the life that he had led, and eager to make amendment by accepting any +honest employment that could be offered to him. The traveller who had +saved his life, and whose opinion was to be trusted, declared that the +letter represented a sincerely penitent state of mind. There were good +qualities in the vagabond, which only wanted a little merciful +encouragement to assert themselves. The reply that he received from +England came from the lawyers employed by the new Earl. They had +arranged with their agents in New York to pay to the younger brother a +legacy of a thousand pounds, which represented all that had been left +to him by his father's will. If he wrote again his letters would not be +answered; his brother had done with him. Treated in this inhuman +manner, the wild lord became once more worthy of his name. He tried a +new life as a betting man at races and trotting-matches. Fortune +favoured him at the outset, and he considerably increased his legacy. +With the customary infatuation of men who gain money by risking the +loss of it, he presumed on his good luck. One pecuniary disaster +followed another, and left him literally penniless. He was found again, +in England, exhibiting an open boat in which he and a companion had +made one of those foolhardy voyages across the Atlantic, which have now +happily ceased to interest the public. To a friend who remonstrated +with him, he answered that he reckoned on being lost at sea, and on so +committing a suicide worthy of the desperate life that he had led. The +last accounts of him, after this, were too vague and too contradictory +to be depended on. At one time it was reported that he had returned to +the United States. Not long afterwards unaccountable paragraphs +appeared in newspapers declaring, at one and the same time, that he was +living among bad company in Paris, and that he was hiding disreputably +in an ill famed quarter of the city of Dublin, called "the Liberties." +In any case there was good reason to fear that Irish-American +desperadoes had entangled the wild lord in the network of political +conspiracy. + + +The maid noticed a change in the mistress which surprised her, when she +had reached the end of the newspaper story. Of Miss Henley's customary +good spirits not a trace remained. "Few people, Rhoda, remember what +they read as well as you do." She said it kindly and sadly--and she +said no more. + +There was a reason for this. + +Now at one time, and now at another, Iris had heard of Lord Harry's +faults and failings in fragments of family history. The complete record +of his degraded life, presented in an uninterrupted succession of +events, had now forced itself on her attention for the first time. It +naturally shocked her. She felt, as she had never felt before, how +entirely right her father had been in insisting on her resistance to an +attachment which was unworthy of her. So far, but no farther, her +conscience yielded to its own conviction of what was just. But the one +unassailable vital force in this world is the force of love. It may +submit to the hard necessities of life; it may acknowledge the +imperative claims of duty; it may be silent under reproach, and +submissive to privation--but, suffer what it may, it is the +master-passion still; subject to no artificial influences, owning no +supremacy but the law of its own being. Iris was above the reach of +self-reproach, when her memory recalled the daring action which had +saved Lord Harry at the milestone. Her better sense acknowledged Hugh +Mountjoy's superiority over the other man--but her heart, her perverse +heart, remained true to its first choice in spite of her. She made an +impatient excuse and went out alone to recover her composure in the +farm-house garden. + +The hours of the evening passed slowly. + +There was a pack of cards in the house; the women tried to amuse +themselves, and failed. Anxiety about Arthur preyed on the spirits of +Miss Henley and Mrs. Lewson. Even the maid, who had only seen him +during his last visit to London, said she wished to-morrow had come and +gone. His sweet temper, his handsome face, his lively talk had made +Arthur a favourite everywhere. Mrs. Lewson had left her comfortable +English home to be his housekeeper, when he tried his rash experiment +of farming in Ireland. And, more wonderful still, even wearisome Sir +Giles became an agreeable person in his nephew's company. + +Iris set the example of retiring at an early hour to her room. + +There was something terrible in the pastoral silence of the place. It +associated itself mysteriously with her fears for Arthur; it suggested +armed treachery on tiptoe, taking its murderous stand in hiding; the +whistling passage of bullets through the air; the piercing cry of a man +mortally wounded, and that man, perhaps----? Iris shrank from her own +horrid thought. A momentary faintness overcame her; she opened the +window. As she put her head out to breathe the cool night-air, a man on +horseback rode up to the house. Was it Arthur? No: the light-coloured +groom's livery that he wore was just visible. + +Before he could dismount to knock at the door, a tall man walked up to +him out of the darkness. + +"Is that Miles?" the tall man asked. + +The groom knew the voice. Iris was even better acquainted with it. She, +too, recognised Lord Harry. + + +X + +THERE was the Irish lord at the very time when Iris was most patiently +resigned never to see him more, never to think of him as her husband +again--reminding her of the first days of their love, and of their +mutual confession of it! Fear of herself kept her behind the curtain; +while interest in Lord Harry detained her at the window in hiding. + +"All well at Rathco?" he asked--mentioning the name of the house in +which Arthur was one of the guests. + +"Yes, my lord. Mr. Mountjoy leaves us to-morrow." + +"Does he mean to return to the farm?" + +"Sorry I am to say it; he does mean that." + +"Has he fixed any time, Miles, for starting on his journey?" + +Miles instituted a search through his pockets, and accompanied it by an +explanation. Yes, indeed, Master Arthur had fixed a time; he had +written a note to say so to Mistress Lewson, the housekeeper; he had +said, "Drop the note at the farm, on your way to the village." And what +might Miles want at the village, in the dark? Medicine, in a hurry, for +one of his master's horses that was sick and sinking. And, speaking of +that, here, thank God, was the note! + +Iris, listening and watching alternately, saw to her surprise the note +intended for Mrs. Lewson handed to Lord Harry. "Am I expected," he +asked jocosely, "to read writing without a light?" Miles produced a +small lantern which was strapped to his groom's belt. "There's parts of +the road not over safe in the dark," he said as he raised the shade +which guarded the light. The wild lord coolly opened the letter, and +read the few careless words which it contained. "To Mrs. Lewson:--Dear +old girl, expect me back to-morrow to dinner at three o'clock. Yours, +ARTHUR." + +There was a pause. + +"Are there any strangers at Rathco?" Lord Harry asked. + +"Two new men," Miles replied, "at work in the grounds." + +There was another pause. "How can I protect him?" the young lord said, +partly to himself, partly to Miles. He suspected the two new +men---spies probably who knew of Arthur's proposed journey home, and +who had already reported to their employers the hour at which he would +set out. + +Miles ventured to say a word: "I hope you won't be angry with me, my +lord"---- + +"Stuff and nonsense! Was I ever angry with you, when I was rich enough +to keep a servant, and when you were the man?" + +The Irish groom answered in a voice that trembled with strong feeling. +"You were the best and kindest master that ever lived on this earth. I +can't see you putting your precious life in peril"---- + +"My precious life?" Lord Harry repeated lightly. "You're thinking of +Mr. Mountjoy, when you say that. _His_ life is worth saving. As for my +life"---- He ended the sentence by a whistle, as the best way he could +hit on of expressing his contempt for his own existence. + +"My lord! my lord!" Miles persisted; "the Invincibles are beginning to +doubt you. If any of them find you hanging about Mr. Mountjoy's farm, +they'll try a shot at you first, and ask afterwards whether it was +right to kill you or not." + +To hear this said--and said seriously--after the saving of him at the +milestone, was a trial of her firmness which Iris was unable to resist. +Love got the better of prudence. She drew back the window-curtain. In +another moment, she would have added her persuasion to the servant's +warning, if Lord Harry himself had not accidentally checked her by a +proceeding, on his part, for which she was not prepared. + +"Show the light," he said; "I'll write a line to Mr. Mountjoy." + +He tore off the blank page from the note to the housekeeper, and wrote +to Arthur, entreating him to change the time of his departure from +Rathco, and to tell no creature in the house, or out of the house, at +what new hour he had arranged to go. "Saddle your horse yourself," the +letter concluded. It was written in a feigned hand, without a +signature. + +"Give that to Mr. Mountjoy," Lord Harry said. "If he asks who wrote it, +don't frighten him about me by telling the truth. Lie, Miles! Say you +don't know." He next returned the note for Mrs. Lewson. "If she notices +that it has been opened," he resumed, "and asks who has done it, lie +again. Good-night, Miles--and mind those dangerous places on your road +home." + +The groom darkened his lantern; and the wild lord was lost to view, +round the side of the house. + +Left by himself, Miles rapped at the door with the handle of his whip. +"A letter from Mr. Arthur," he called out. Mrs. Lewson at once took the +note, and examined it by the light of the candle on the hall-table. +"Somebody has been reading this!" she exclaimed, stepping out to the +groom, and showing him the torn envelope. Miles, promptly obeying his +instructions, declared that he knew nothing about it, and rode away. + +Iris descended the stairs, and joined Mrs. Lewson in the hall before +she had closed the door. The housekeeper at once produced Arthur's +letter. + +"It's on my mind, Miss," she said, "to write an answer, and say +something to Mr. Arthur which will persuade him to take care of +himself, on his way back to the farm. The difficulty is, how am I to +express it? You would be doing a kind thing if you would give me a word +of advice." + +Iris willingly complied. A second note, from the anxious housekeeper, +might help the effect of the few lines which Lord Harry had written. + +Arthur's letter informed Iris that he had arranged to return at three +o'clock. Lord Harry's question to the groom, and the man's reply, +instantly recurred to her memory: "Are there any strangers at +Rathco?"--"Two new men at work in the grounds." Arriving at the same +conclusion which had already occurred to Lord Harry, Iris advised the +housekeeper, in writing to Arthur, to entreat him to change the hour, +secretly, at which he left his friend's house on the next day. Warmly +approving of this idea, Mrs. Lewson hurried into the parlour to write +her letter. "Don't go to bed yet, Miss," she said; "I want you to read +it before I send it away the first thing to-morrow morning." + +Left alone in the hall, with the door open before her, Iris looked out +on the night, thinking. + +The lives of the two men in whom she was interested--in widely +different ways--were now both threatened; and the imminent danger, at +that moment, was the danger of Lord Harry. He was an outlaw whose +character would not bear investigation; but, to give him his due, there +was no risk which he was not ready to confront for Arthur's sake. If he +was still recklessly lingering, on the watch for assassins in the +dangerous neighbourhood of the farm, who but herself possessed the +influence which would prevail on him to leave the place? She had joined +Mrs. Lewson at the door with that conviction in her mind. In another +instant, she was out of the house, and beginning her search in the +dark. + +Iris made the round of the building; sometimes feeling her way in +obscure places; sometimes calling to Lord Harry cautiously by his name. +No living creature appeared; no sound of a movement disturbed the +stillness of the night. The discovery of his absence, which she had not +dared to hope for, was the cheering discovery which she had now made. + +On her way back to the house, she became conscious of the rashness of +the act into which her own generous impulse had betrayed her. + +If she and Lord Harry had met, could she have denied the tender +interest in him which her own conduct would then have revealed? Would +he not have been justified in concluding that she had pardoned the +errors and the vices of his life, and that he might without impropriety +remind her of their engagement, and claim her hand in marriage? She +trembled as she thought of the concessions which he might have wrung +from her. "Never more," she determined, "shall my own folly be +answerable for it, if he and I meet again." + +She had returned to Mrs. Lewson, and had read over the letter to +Arthur, when the farm clock, striking the hour, reminded them that it +was time to retire. They slept badly that night. + +At six in the morning, one of the two labourers who had remained +faithful to Arthur was sent away on horseback with the housekeeper's +reply, and with orders to wait for an answer. Allowing time for giving +the horse a rest, the man might be expected to return before noon. + + +IX + +IT was a fine sunshiny day; Mrs. Lewson's spirits began to improve. "I +have always held the belief," the worthy old woman confessed, "that +bright weather brings good luck--of course provided the day is not a +Friday. This is Wednesday. Cheer up, Miss." + +The messenger returned with good news. Mr. Arthur had been as merry as +usual. He had made fun of another letter of good advice, received +without a signature. "But Mrs. Lewson must have her way," he said. "My +love to the old dear--I'll start two hours later, and be back to dinner +at five." + +"Where did Mr. Arthur give you that message?" Iris inquired. + +"At the stables, Miss, while I was putting up the horse. The men about +were all on the broad grin when they heard Mr. Arthur's message." + +Still in a morbid state of mind, Iris silently regretted that the +message had not been written, instead of being delivered by word of +mouth. Here, again, she (like the wild lord) had been afraid of +listeners. + +The hours wore slowly on until it was past four o'clock. Iris could +endure the suspense no longer. "It's a lovely afternoon," she said to +Mrs. Lewson. "Let us take a walk along the road, and meet Arthur." To +this proposal the housekeeper readily agreed. + +It was nearly five o'clock when they reached a place at which a by-road +branched off, through a wood, from the highway which they had hitherto +followed. Mrs. Lewson found a seat on a felled tree. "We had better not +go any farther," she said. + +Iris asked if there was any reason for this. + +There was an excellent reason. A few yards farther on, the high road +had been diverted from the straight line (in the interest of a large +agricultural village), and was then directed again into its former +course. The by-road through the wood served as a short cut, for +horsemen and pedestrians, from one divergent point to the other. It was +next to a certainty that Arthur would return by the short cut. But if +accident or caprice led to his preferring the highway, it was clearly +necessary to wait for him within view of both the roads. + +Too restless to submit to a state of passive expectation, Iris proposed +to follow the bridle path through the wood for a little way, and to +return if she failed to see anything of Arthur. "You are tired," she +said kindly to her companion: "pray don't move." + +Mrs. Lewson looked needlessly uneasy: "You might lose yourself, Miss. +Mind you keep to the path!" + +Iris followed the pleasant windings of the woodland track. In the hope +of meeting Arthur she considerably extended the length of her walk. The +white line of the high road, as it passed the farther end of the wood, +showed itself through the trees. She turned at once to rejoin Mrs. +Lewson. + +On her way back she made a discovery. A ruin which she had not +previously noticed showed itself among the trees on her left hand. Her +curiosity was excited; she strayed aside to examine it more closely. +The crumbling walls, as she approached them, looked like the remains of +an ordinary dwelling-house. Age is essential to the picturesque effect +of decay: a modern ruin is an unnatural and depressing object--and here +the horrid thing was. + +As she turned to retrace her steps to the road, a man walked out of the +inner space enclosed by all that was left of the dismantled house. A +cry of alarm escaped her. Was she the victim of destiny, or the sport +of chance? There was the wild lord whom she had vowed never to see +again: the master of her heart--perhaps the master of her fate! + +Any other man would have been amazed to see her, and would have asked +how it had happened that the English lady presented herself to him in +an Irish wood. This man enjoyed the delight of seeing her, and accepted +it as a blessing that was not to be questioned. "My angel has dropped +from Heaven," he said. "May Heaven be praised!" + +He approached her; his arms closed round her. She struggled to free +herself from his embrace. At that moment they both heard the crackle of +breaking underwood among the trees behind them. Lord Harry looked +round. "This is a dangerous place," he whispered; "I'm waiting to see +Arthur pass safely. Submit to be kissed, or I am a dead man." His eyes +told her that he was truly and fearfully in earnest. Her head sank on +his bosom. As he bent down and kissed her, three men approached from +their hiding-place among the trees. They had no doubt been watching +him, under orders from the murderous brotherhood to which they +belonged. Their pistols were ready in their hands--and what discovery +had they made? There was the brother who had been denounced as having +betrayed them, guilty of no worse treason than meeting his sweetheart +in a wood! "We beg your pardon, my lord," they cried, with a thoroughly +Irish enjoyment of their own discomfiture--and burst into a roar of +laughter--and left the lovers together. For the second time, Iris had +saved Lord Harry at a crisis in his life. + +"Let me go!" she pleaded faintly, trembling with superstitious fear for +the first time in her experience of herself. + +He held her to him as if he would never let her go again. "Oh, my +Sweet, give me a last chance. Help me to be a better man! You have only +to will it, Iris, and to make me worthy of you." + +His arms suddenly trembled round her, and dropped. The silence was +broken by a distant sound, like the report of a shot. He looked towards +the farther end of the wood. In a minute more, the thump of a horse's +hoofs at a gallop was audible, where the bridlepath was hidden among +the trees. It came nearer--nearer---the creature burst into view, wild +with fright, and carrying an empty saddle. Lord Harry rushed into the +path and seized the horse as it swerved at the sight of him. There was +a leather pocket attached to the front of the saddle. "Search it!" he +cried to Iris, forcing the terrified animal back on its haunches. She +drew out a silver travelling-flask. One glance at the name engraved on +it told him the terrible truth. His trembling hands lost their hold. +The horse escaped; the words burst from his lips: + +"Oh, God, they've killed him!" + +THE END OF THE PROLOGUE + + + +THE STORY + +FIRST PERIOD + + +CHAPTER I + +THE SOUR FRENCH WINE + +WHILE the line to be taken by the new railway between Culm and Everill +was still under discussion, the engineer caused some difference of +opinion among the moneyed men who were the first Directors of the +Company, by asking if they proposed to include among their Stations the +little old town of Honeybuzzard. + +For years past, commerce had declined, and population had decreased in +this ancient and curious place. Painters knew it well, and prized its +mediaeval houses as a mine of valuable material for their art. Persons +of cultivated tastes, who were interested in church architecture of the +fourteenth century, sometimes pleased and flattered the Rector by +subscribing to his fund for the restoration of the tower, and the +removal of the accumulated rubbish of hundreds of years from the crypt. +Small speculators, not otherwise in a state of insanity, settled +themselves in the town, and tried the desperate experiment of opening a +shop; spent their little capital, put up the shutters, and disappeared. +The old market-place still showed its list of market-law's, issued by +the Mayor and Corporation in the prosperous bygone times; and every +week there were fewer and fewer people to obey the laws. The great +empty enclosure looked more cheerful, when there was no market held, +and when the boys of the town played in the deserted place. In the last +warehouse left in a state of repair, the crane was generally idle; the +windows were mostly shut up; and a solitary man represented languishing +trade, idling at a half-opened door. The muddy river rose and fell with +the distant tide. At rare intervals a collier discharged its cargo on +the mouldering quay, or an empty barge took in a load of hay. One bold +house advertised, in a dirty window, apartments to let. There was a +lawyer in the town, who had no occasion to keep a clerk; and there was +a doctor who hoped to sell his practice for anything that it would +fetch. The directors of the new railway, after a stormy meeting, +decided on offering (by means of a Station) a last chance of revival to +the dying town. The town had not vitality enough left to be grateful; +the railway stimulant produced no effect. Of all his colleagues in +Great Britain and Ireland, the station-master at Honeybuzzard was the +idlest man--and this, as he said to the unemployed porter, through no +want of energy on his own part. + +Late on a rainy autumn afternoon, the slow train left one traveller at +the Station. He got out of a first-class carriage; he carried an +umbrella and a travelling-bag; and he asked his way to the best inn. +The station-master and the porter compared notes. One of them said: +"Evidently a gentleman." The other added: "What can he possibly want +here?" + +The stranger twice lost his way in the tortuous old streets of the town +before he reached the inn. On giving his orders, it appeared that he +wanted three things: a private room, something to eat, and, while the +dinner was being cooked, materials for writing a letter. + +Answering her daughter's questions downstairs, the landlady described +her guest as a nice-looking man dressed in deep mourning. "Young, my +dear, with beautiful dark brown hair, and a grand beard, and a sweet +sorrowful look. Ah, his eyes would tell anybody that his black clothes +are not a mere sham. Whether married or single, of course I can't say. +But I noticed the name on his travelling-bag. A distinguished name in +my opinion--Hugh Mountjoy. I wonder what he'll order to drink when he +has his dinner? What a mercy it will be if we can get rid of another +bottle of the sour French wine!" + +The bell in the private room rang at that moment; and the landlady's +daughter, it is needless to say, took the opportunity of forming her +own opinion of Mr. Hugh Mountjoy. + +She returned with a letter in her hand, consumed by a vain longing for +the advantages of gentle birth. "Ah, mother, if I was a young lady of +the higher classes, I know whose wife I should like to be!" Not +particularly interested in sentimental aspirations, the landlady asked +to see Mr. Mountjoy's letter. The messenger who delivered it was to +wait for an answer. It was addressed to: "Miss Henley, care of Clarence +Vimpany, Esquire, Honeybuzzard." Urged by an excited imagination, the +daughter longed to see Miss Henley. The mother was at a loss to +understand why Mr. Mountjoy should have troubled himself to write the +letter at all. "If he knows the young lady who is staying at the +doctor's house," she said, "why doesn't he call on Miss Henley?" She +handed the letter back to her daughter. "There! let the ostler take it; +he's got nothing to do." + +"No, mother. The ostler's dirty hands mustn't touch it--I'll take the +letter myself. Perhaps I may see Miss Henley." Such was the impression +which Mr. Hugh Mountjoy had innocently produced on a sensitive young +person, condemned by destiny to the barren sphere of action afforded by +a country inn! + +The landlady herself took the dinner upstairs--a first course of mutton +chops and potatoes, cooked to a degree of imperfection only attained in +an English kitchen. The sour French wine was still on the good woman's +mind. "What would you choose to drink, sir?" she asked. Mr. Mountjoy +seemed to feel no interest in what he might have to drink. "We have +some French wine, sir." + +"Thank you, ma'am; that will do." + +When the bell rang again, and the time came to produce the second +course of cheese and celery, the landlady allowed the waiter to take +her place. Her experience of the farmers who frequented the inn, and +who had in some few cases been induced to taste the wine, warned her to +anticipate an outbreak of just anger from Mr. Mountjoy. He, like the +others, would probably ask what she "meant by poisoning him with such +stuff as that." On the return of the waiter, she put the question: "Did +the gentleman complain of the French wine?" + +"He wants to see you about it, ma'am." + +The landlady turned pale. The expression of Mr. Mountjoy's indignation +was evidently reserved for the mistress of the house. "Did he swear," +she asked, "when he tasted it?" + +"Lord bless you, ma'am, no! Drank it out of a tumbler, and--if you will +believe me--actually seemed to like it." + +The landlady recovered her colour. Gratitude to Providence for having +sent a customer to the inn, who could drink sour wine without +discovering it, was the uppermost feeling in her ample bosom as she +entered the private room. Mr. Mountjoy justified her anticipations. He +was simple enough--with his tumbler before him, and the wine as it were +under his nose--to begin with an apology. + +"I am sorry to trouble you, ma'am. May I ask where you got this wine?" + +"The wine, sir, was one of my late husband's bad debts. It was all he +could get from a Frenchman who owed him money." + +"It's worth money, ma'am." + +"Indeed, sir?" + +"Yes, indeed. This is some of the finest and purest claret that I have +tasted for many a long day past." + +An alarming suspicion disturbed the serenity of the landlady's mind. +Was his extraordinary opinion of the wine sincere? Or was it Mr. +Mountjoy's wicked design to entrap her into praising her claret and +then to imply that she was a cheat by declaring what he really thought +of it? She took refuge in a cautious reply: + +"You are the first gentleman, sir, who has not found fault with it." + +"In that case, perhaps you would like to get rid of the wine?" Mr. +Mountjoy suggested. + +The landlady was still cautious. "Who will buy it of me, sir?" + +"I will. How much do you charge for it by the bottle?" + +It was, by this time, clear that he was not mischievous--only a little +crazy. The worldly-wise hostess took advantage of that circumstance to +double the price. Without hesitation, she said: "Five shillings a +bottle, sir." + +Often, too often, the irony of circumstances brings together, on this +earthly scene, the opposite types of vice and virtue. A lying landlady +and a guest incapable of deceit were looking at each other across a +narrow table; equally unconscious of the immeasurable moral gulf that +lay between them, Influenced by honourable feeling, innocent Hugh +Mountjoy lashed the landlady's greed for money to the full-gallop of +human cupidity. + +"I don't think you are aware of the value of your wine," he said. "I +have claret in my cellar which is not so good as this, and which costs +more than you have asked. It is only fair to offer you seven-and-sixpence +a bottle." + +When an eccentric traveller is asked to pay a price, and deliberately +raises that price against himself, where is the sensible +woman--especially if she happens to be a widow conducting an +unprofitable business--who would hesitate to improve the opportunity? +The greedy landlady raised her terms. + +"On reflection, sir, I think I ought to have ten shillings a bottle, if +you please." + +"The wine may be worth it," Mountjoy answered quietly; "but it is more +than I can afford to pay. No, ma'am; I will leave you to find some +lover of good claret with a longer purse than mine." + +It was in this man's character, when he said No, to mean No. Mr. +Mountjoy's hostess perceived that her crazy customer was not to be +trifled with. She lowered her terms again with the headlong hurry of +terror. "You shall have it, Sir, at your own price," said this entirely +shameless and perfectly respectable woman. + +The bargain having been closed under these circumstances, the +landlady's daughter knocked at the door. "I took your letter myself, +sir," she said modestly; "and here is the answer." (She had seen Miss +Henley, and did not think much of her.) Mountjoy offered the expression +of his thanks, in words never to be forgotten by a sensitive young +person, and opened his letter. It was short enough to be read in a +moment; but it was evidently a favourable reply. He took his hat in a +hurry, and asked to be shown the way to Mr. Vimpany's house. + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE MAN SHE REFUSED + +MOUNTJOY had decided on travelling to Honeybuzzard, as soon as he heard +that Miss Henley was staying with strangers in that town. Having had no +earlier opportunity of preparing her to see him, he had considerately +written to her from the inn, in preference to presenting himself +unexpectedly at the doctor's house. How would she receive the devoted +friend, whose proposal of marriage she had refused for the second time, +when they had last met in London? + +The doctor's place of residence, situated in a solitary by-street, +commanded a view, not perhaps encouraging to a gentleman who followed +the medical profession: it was a view of the churchyard. The door was +opened by a woman-servant, who looked suspiciously at the stranger. +Without waiting to be questioned, she said her master was out. Mountjoy +mentioned his name, and asked for Miss Henley. + +The servant's manner altered at once for the better; she showed him +into a small drawing-room, scantily and cheaply furnished. Some +poorly-framed prints on the walls (a little out of place perhaps in a +doctor's house) represented portraits of famous actresses, who had been +queens of the stage in the early part of the present century. The few +books, too, collected on a little shelf above the chimney-piece, were +in every case specimens of dramatic literature. "Who reads these +plays?" Mountjoy asked himself. "And how did Iris find her way into +this house?" + +While he was thinking of her, Miss Henley entered the room. + +Her face was pale and careworn; tears dimmed her eyes when Mountjoy +advanced to meet her. In his presence, the horror of his brother's +death by assassination shook Iris as it had not shaken her yet. +Impulsively, she drew his head down to her, with the fond familiarity +of a sister, and kissed his forehead. "Oh, Hugh, I know how you and +Arthur loved each other! No words of mine can say how I feel for you." + +"No words are wanted, my dear," he answered tenderly. "Your sympathy +speaks for itself." + +He led her to the sofa and seated himself by her side. "Your father has +shown me what you have written to him," he resumed; "your letter from +Dublin and your second letter from this place. I know what you have so +nobly risked and suffered in poor Arthur's interests. It will be some +consolation to me if I can make a return--a very poor return, Iris--for +all that Arthur's brother owes to the truest friend that ever man had. +No," he continued, gently interrupting the expression of her gratitude. +"Your father has not sent me here--but he knows that I have left London +for the express purpose of seeing you, and he knows why. You have +written to him dutifully and affectionately; you have pleaded for +pardon and reconciliation, when he is to blame. Shall I venture to tell +you how he answered me, when I asked if he had no faith left in his own +child? 'Hugh,' he said, 'you are wasting words on a man whose mind is +made up. I will trust my daughter when that Irish lord is laid in his +grave--not before.' That is a reflection on you, Iris, which I cannot +permit, even when your father casts it. He is hard, he is unforgiving; +but he must, and shall, be conquered yet. I mean to make him do you +justice; I have come here with that purpose, and that purpose only, in +view. May I speak to you of Lord Harry?" + +"How can you doubt it!" + +"My dear, this is a delicate subject for me to enter on." + +"And a shameful subject for me!" Iris broke out bitterly. "Hugh! you +are an angel, by comparison with that man--how debased I must be to +love him--how unworthy of your good opinion! Ask me anything you like; +have no mercy on me. Oh," she cried, with reckless contempt for +herself, "why don't you beat me? I deserve it!" + +Mountjoy was well enough acquainted with the natures of women to pass +over that passionate outbreak, instead of fanning the flame in her by +reasoning and remonstrance. + +"Your father will not listen to the expression of feeling," he +continued; "but it is possible to rouse his sense of justice by the +expression of facts. Help me to speak to him more plainly of Lord Harry +than you could speak in your letters. I want to know what has happened, +from the time when events at Ardoon brought you and the young lord +together again, to the time when you left him in Ireland after my +brother's death. If I seem to expect too much of you, Iris, pray +remember that I am speaking with a true regard for your interests." + +In those words, he made his generous appeal to her. She proved herself +to be worthy of it. + + +Stated briefly, the retrospect began with the mysterious anonymous +letters which had been addressed to Sir Giles. + +Lord Harry's explanation had been offered to Iris gratefully, but with +some reserve, after she had told him who the stranger at the milestone +really was. "I entreat you to pardon me, if I shrink from entering into +particulars," he had said. "Circumstances, at the time, amply justified +me in the attempt to use the banker's political influence as a means of +securing Arthur's safety. I knew enough of Sir Giles's mean nature to +be careful in trusting him; but I did hope to try what my personal +influence might do. If he had possessed a tenth part of your courage, +Arthur might have been alive, and safe in England, at this moment. I +can't say any more; I daren't say any more; it maddens me when I think +of it!" He abruptly changed the subject, and interested Iris by +speaking of other and later events. His association with the +Invincibles--inexcusably rash and wicked as he himself confessed it to +be--had enabled him to penetrate, and for a time to defeat secretly, +the murderous designs of the brotherhood. His appearances, first at the +farmhouse and afterwards at the ruin in the wood were referable to +changes in the plans of the assassins which had come to his knowledge. +When Iris had met with him he was on the watch, believing that his +friend would take the short way back through the wood, and well aware +that his own life might pay the penalty if he succeeded in warning +Arthur. After the terrible discovery of the murder (committed on the +high road), and the escape of the miscreant who had been guilty of the +crime, the parting of Lord Harry and Miss Henley had been the next +event. She had left him, on her return to England, and had refused to +consent to any of the future meetings between them which he besought +her to grant. + + +At this stage in the narrative, Mountjoy felt compelled to ask +questions more searching than he had put to Iris yet. It was possible +that she might be trusting her own impressions of Lord Harry, with the +ill-placed confidence of a woman innocently self-deceived. + +"Did he submit willingly to your leaving him?" Mountjoy said. + +"Not at first," she replied. + +"Has he released you from that rash engagement, of some years since, +which pledged you to marry him?" + +"No." + +"Did he allude to the engagement, on this occasion?" + +"He said he held to it as the one hope of his life." + +"And what did you say?" + +"I implored him not to distress me." + +"Did you say nothing more positive than that?" + +"I couldn't help thinking, Hugh, of all that he had tried to do to save +Arthur. But I insisted on leaving him--and I have left him." + +"Do you remember what he said at parting?" + +"He said, 'While I live, I love you.'" + +As she repeated the words, there was an involuntary change to +tenderness in her voice which was not lost on Mountjoy. + +"I must be sure," he said to her gravely, "of what I tell your father +when I go back to him. Can I declare, with a safe conscience, that you +will never see Lord Harry again?" + +"My mind is made up never to see him again." She had answered firmly so +far. Her next words were spoken with hesitation, in tones that +faltered. "But I am sometimes afraid," she said, "that the decision may +not rest with me." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I would rather not tell you." + +"That is a strange answer, Iris." + +"I value your good opinion, Hugh, and I am afraid of losing it." + +"Nothing has ever altered my opinion of you," he replied, "and nothing +ever will." + +She looked at him anxiously, with the closest attention. Little by +little, the expression of doubt in her face disappeared; she knew how +he loved her--she resolved to trust him. + +"My friend," she began abruptly, "education has done nothing for me. +Since I left Ireland, I have sunk (I don't know how or why) into a +state of superstitious fear. Yes! I believe in a fatality which is +leading me back to Lord Harry, in spite of myself. Twice already, since +I left home, I have met with him; and each time I have been the means +of saving him--once at the milestone, and once at the ruin in the wood. +If my father still accuses me of being in love with an adventurer, you +can say with perfect truth that I am afraid of him. I _am_ afraid of +the third meeting. I have done my best to escape from that man; and, +step by step, as I think I am getting away, Destiny is taking me back +to him. I may be on my way to him here, hidden in this wretched little +town. Oh, don't despise me! Don't be ashamed of me!" + +"My dear, I am interested--deeply interested in you. That there may be +some such influence as Destiny in our poor mortal lives, I dare not +deny. But I don't agree with your conclusion. What Destiny has to do +with you and with me, neither you nor I can pretend to know beforehand. +In the presence of that great mystery, humanity must submit to be +ignorant. Wait, Iris--wait!" + +She answered him with the simplicity of a docile child: "I will do +anything you tell me." + +Mountjoy was too fond of her to say more of Lord Harry, for that day. +He was careful to lead the talk to a topic which might be trusted to +provoke no agitating thoughts. Finding Iris to all appearance +established in the doctor's house, he was naturally anxious to know +something of the person who must have invited her--the doctor's wife. + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE REGISTERED PACKET + +MOUNTJOY began by alluding to the second of Miss Henley's letters to +her father, and to a passage in it which mentioned Mrs. Vimpany with +expressions of the sincerest gratitude. + +"I should like to know more," he said, "of a lady whose hospitality at +home seems to equal her kindness as a fellow-traveller. Did you first +meet with her on the railway?" + +"She travelled by the same train to Dublin, with me and my maid, but +not in the same carriage," Iris answered; "I was so fortunate as to +meet with her on the voyage from Dublin to Holyhead. We had a rough +crossing; and Rhoda suffered so dreadfully from sea-sickness that she +frightened me. The stewardess was attending to ladies who were calling +for her in all directions; I really don't know what misfortune might +not have happened, if Mrs. Vimpany had not come forward in the kindest +manner, and offered help. She knew so wonderfully well what was to be +done, that she astonished me. 'I am the wife of a doctor,' she said; +'and I am only imitating what I have seen my husband do, when his +assistance has been required, at sea, in weather like this.' In her +poor state of health, Rhoda was too much exhausted to go on by the +train, when we got to Holyhead. She is the best of good girls, and I am +fond of her, as you know. If I had been by myself, I daresay I should +have sent for medical help. What do you think dear Mrs. Vimpany offered +to do? 'Your maid is only faint,' she said. 'Give her rest and some +iced wine, and she will be well enough to go on by the slow train. +Don't be frightened about her; I will wait with you.' And she did wait. +Are there many strangers, Hugh, who are as unselfishly good to others +as my chance-acquaintance in the steamboat?" + +"Very few, I am afraid." + +Mountjoy made that reply with some little embarrassment; conscious of a +doubt of Mrs. Vimpany's disinterested kindness, which seemed to be +unworthy of a just man. + +Iris went on. + +"Rhoda was sufficiently recovered," she said, "to travel by the next +train, and there seemed to be no reason for feeling any more anxiety. +But, after a time, the fatigue of the journey proved to be too much for +her. The poor girl turned pale--and fainted. Mrs. Vimpany revived her, +but as it turned out, only for a while. She fell into another fainting +fit; and my travelling-companion began to look anxious. There was some +difficulty in restoring Rhoda to her senses. In dread of another +attack, I determined to stop at the next station. It looked such a poor +place, when we got to it, that I hesitated. Mrs. Vimpany persuaded me +to go on. The next station, she said, was _her_ station. 'Stop there,' +she suggested, 'and let my husband look at the girl. I ought not +perhaps to say it, but you will find no better medical man out of +London.' I took the good creature's advice gratefully. What else could +I do?" + +"What would you have done," Mountjoy inquired, "if Rhoda had been +strong enough to get to the end of the journey?" + +"I should have gone on to London, and taken refuge in a lodging--you +were in town, as I believed, and my father might relent in time. As it +was, I felt my lonely position keenly. To meet with kind people, like +Mr. Vimpany and his wife, was a real blessing to such a friendless +creature as I am--to say nothing of the advantage to Rhoda, who is +getting better every day. I should like you to see Mrs. Vimpany, if she +is at home. She is a little formal and old fashioned in her manner--but +I am sure you will be pleased with her. Ah! you look round the room! +They are poor, miserably poor for persons in their position, these +worthy friends of mine. I have had the greatest difficulty in +persuading them to let me contribute my share towards the household +expenses. They only yielded when I threatened to go to the inn. You are +looking very serious, Hugh. Is it possible that you see some objection +to my staying in this house?" + +The drawing-room door was softly opened, at the moment when Iris put +that question. A lady appeared on the threshold. Seeing the stranger, +she turned to Iris. + +"I didn't know, dear Miss Henley, that you had a visitor. Pray pardon +my intrusion." + +The voice was deep; the articulation was clear; the smile presented a +certain modest dignity which gave it a value of its own. This was a +woman who could make such a commonplace thing as an apology worth +listening to. Iris stopped her as she was about to leave the room. "I +was just wishing for you," she said. "Let me introduce my old friend, +Mr. Mountjoy. Hugh, this is the lady who has been so kind to me--Mrs. +Vimpany." + +Hugh's impulse, under the circumstances, was to dispense with the +formality of a bow, and to shake hands. Mrs. Vimpany met this friendly +advance with a suavity of action, not often seen in these days of +movement without ceremony. She was a tall slim woman, of a certain age. +Art had so cleverly improved her complexion that it almost looked like +nature. Her cheeks had lost the plumpness of youth, but her hair +(thanks again perhaps to Art) showed no signs of turning grey. The +expression of her large dark eyes--placed perhaps a little too near her +high aquiline nose--claimed admiration from any person who was so +fortunate as to come within their range of view. Her hands, long, +yellow, and pitiably thin, were used with a grace which checked to some +extent their cruel betrayal of her age. Her dress had seen better days, +but it was worn with an air which forbade it to look actually shabby. +The faded lace that encircled her neck fell in scanty folds over her +bosom. She sank into a chair by Hugh's side. "It was a great pleasure +to me, Mr. Mountjoy, to offer my poor services to Miss Henley; I can't +tell you how happy her presence makes me in our little house." The +compliment was addressed to Iris with every advantage that smiles and +tones could offer. Oddly artificial as it undoubtedly was, Mrs. +Vimpany's manner produced nevertheless an agreeable impression. +Disposed to doubt her at first, Mountjoy found that she was winning her +way to a favourable change in his opinion. She so far interested him, +that he began to wonder what her early life might have been, when she +was young and handsome. He looked again at the portraits of actresses +on the walls, and the plays on the bookshelf--and then (when she was +speaking to Iris) he stole a sly glance at the doctor's wife. Was it +possible that this remarkable woman had once been an actress? He +attempted to put the value of that guess to the test by means of a +complimentary allusion to the prints. + +"My memory as a playgoer doesn't extend over many years," he began; +"but I can appreciate the historical interest of your beautiful +prints." Mrs. Vimpany bowed gracefully--and dumbly. Mountjoy tried +again. "One doesn't often see the famous actresses of past days," he +proceeded, "so well represented on the walls of an English house." + +This time, he had spoken to better purpose. Mrs. Vimpany answered him +in words. + +"I have many pleasant associations with the theatre," she said, "first +formed in the time of my girlhood." + +Mountjoy waited to hear something more. Nothing more was said. Perhaps +this reticent lady disliked looking back through a long interval of +years, or perhaps she had her reasons for leaving Mountjoy's guess at +the truth still lost in doubt. In either case, she deliberately dropped +the subject. Iris took it up. Sitting by the only table in the room, +she was in a position which placed her exactly opposite to one of the +prints--the magnificent portrait of Mrs. Siddons as The Tragic Muse. + +"I wonder if Mrs. Siddons was really as beautiful as that?" she said, +pointing to the print. "Sir Joshua Reynolds is reported to have +sometimes flattered his sitters." + +Mrs. Vimpany's solemn self-possessed eyes suddenly brightened; the name +of the great actress seemed to interest her. On the point, apparently, +of speaking, she dropped the subject of Mrs. Siddons as she had dropped +the subject of the theatre. Mountjoy was left to answer Iris. + +"We are none of us old enough," he reminded her, "to decide whether Sir +Joshua's brush has been guilty of flattery or not." He turned to Mrs. +Vimpany, and attempted to look into her life from a new point of view. +"When Miss Henley was so fortunate as to make your acquaintance," he +said, "you were travelling in Ireland. Was it your first visit to that +unhappy country?" + +"I have been more than once in Ireland." + +Having again deliberately disappointed Mountjoy, she was assisted in +keeping clear of the subject of Ireland by a fortunate interruption. It +was the hour of delivery by the afternoon-post. The servant came in +with a small sealed packet, and a slip of printed paper in her hand. + +"It's registered, ma'am," the woman announced. "The postman says you +are to please sign this. And he seems to be in a hurry." + +She placed the packet and the slip of paper on the table, near the +inkstand. Having signed the receipt, Mrs. Vimpany took up the packet, +and examined the address. She instantly looked at Iris, and looked away +again. "Will you excuse me for a moment?" saying this she left the +room, without opening the packet. + +The moment the door closed on her, Iris started up, and hurried to +Mountjoy. + +"Oh, Hugh," she said, "I saw the address on that packet when the +servant put it on the table!" + +"My dear, what is there to excite you in the address?" + +"Don't speak so loud! She may be listening outside the door." + +Not only the words, but the tone in which they were spoken, amazed +Mountjoy. "Your friend, Mrs. Vimpany!" he exclaimed. + +"Mrs. Vimpany was afraid to open the packet in our presence," Iris went +on: "you must have seen that. The handwriting is familiar to me; I am +certain of the person who wrote the address." + +"Well? And who is the person?" + +She whispered in his ear: + +"Lord Harry." + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE GAME: MOUNTJOY LOSES + +SURPRISE silenced Hugh for the moment. Iris understood the look that he +fixed on her, and answered it. "I am quite sure," she told him, "of +what I say." + +Mountjoy's well-balanced mind hesitated at rushing to a conclusion. + +"I am sure you are convinced of what you tell me," he said. "But +mistakes do sometimes happen in forming a judgment of handwriting." + +In the state of excitement that now possessed her, Iris was easily +irritated; she was angry with Hugh for only supposing that she might +have made a mistake. He had himself, as she reminded him, seen Lord +Harry's handwriting in past days. Was it possible to be mistaken in +those bold thickly-written characters, with some of the letters so +quaintly formed? "Oh, Hugh, I am miserable enough as it is," she broke +out; "don't distract me by disputing what I know! Think of a woman so +kind, so disinterested, so charming--the very opposite of a false +creature--think of Mrs. Vimpany having deceived me!" + +There was not the slightest reason, thus far, for placing that +interpretation on what had happened. Mountjoy gently, very gently, +remonstrated. + +"My dear, we really don't know yet that Mrs. Vimpany has been acting +under Lord Harry's instructions. Wait a little before you suspect your +fellow-traveller of offering her services for the purpose of deceiving +you." + +Iris was angry with him again: "Why did Mrs. Vimpany never tell me she +knew Lord Harry? Isn't that suspicious?" + +Mountjoy smiled. "Let me put a question on my side," he said. "Did +_you_ tell Mrs. Vimpany you knew Lord Harry?" Iris made no reply; her +face spoke for her. "Well, then," he urged, "is _your_ silence +suspicious? I am far, mind, from saying that this may not be a very +unpleasant discovery. Only let us be sure first that we are right." + +With most of a woman's merits, Miss Henley had many of a woman's +faults. Still holding to her own conclusion, she asked how they could +expect to be sure of anything if they addressed their inquiries to a +person who had already deceived them. + +Mountjoy's inexhaustible indulgence still made allowances for her. +"When Mrs. Vimpany comes back," he said, "I will find an opportunity of +mentioning Lord Harry's name. If she tells us that she knows him, there +will be good reason in that one circumstance, as it seems to me, for +continuing to trust her." + +"Suppose she shams ignorance," Iris persisted, "and looks as if she had +never heard of his name before?" + +"In that case, I shall own that I was wrong, and shall ask you to +forgive me." + +The finer and better nature of Iris recovered its influence at these +words. "It is I who ought to beg pardon," she said. "Oh, I wish I could +think before I speak: how insolent and ill-tempered I have been! But +suppose I turn out to be right, Hugh, what will you do then?" + +"Then, my dear, it will be my duty to take you and your maid away from +this house, and to tell your father what serious reasons there are"---- +He abruptly checked himself. Mrs. Vimpany had returned; she was in +perfect possession of her lofty courtesy, sweetened by the modest +dignity of her smile. + +"I have left you, Miss Henley, in such good company," she said, with a +gracious inclination of her head in the direction of Mountjoy, "that I +need hardly repeat my apologies--unless, indeed, I am interrupting a +confidential conversation." + +It was possible that Iris might have betrayed herself, when the +doctor's wife had looked at her after examining the address on the +packet. In this case Mrs. Vimpany's allusion to "a confidential +conversation" would have operated as a warning to a person of +experience in the by-ways of deceit. Mountjoy's utmost exertion of +cunning was not capable of protecting him on such conditions as these. +The opportunity of trying his proposed experiment with Lord Harry's +name seemed to have presented itself already. He rashly seized on it. + +"You have interrupted nothing that was confidential," he hastened to +assure Mrs. Vimpany. "We have been speaking of a reckless young +gentleman, who is an acquaintance of ours. If what I hear is true, he +has already become public property; his adventures have found their way +into some of the newspapers." + +Here, if Mrs. Vimpany had answered Hugh's expectations, she ought to +have asked who the young gentleman was. She merely listened in polite +silence. + +With a woman's quickness of perception, Iris saw that Mountjoy had not +only pounced on his opportunity prematurely, but had spoken with a +downright directness of allusion which must at once have put such a +ready-witted person as Mrs. Vimpany on her guard. In trying to prevent +him from pursuing his unfortunate experiment in social diplomacy, Iris +innocently repeated Mountjoy's own mistake. She, too, seized her +opportunity prematurely. That is to say, she was rash enough to change +the subject. + +"You were talking just now, Hugh, of our friend's adventures," she +said; "I am afraid you will find yourself involved in an adventure of +no very agreeable kind, if you engage a bed at the inn. I never saw a +more wretched-looking place." + +It was one of Mrs. Vimpany's many merits that she seldom neglected an +opportunity of setting her friends at their ease. + +"No, no, dear Miss Henley," she hastened to say; "the inn is really a +more clean and comfortable place than you suppose. A hard bed and a +scarcity of furniture are the worst evils which your friend has to +fear. Do you know," she continued, addressing herself to Mountjoy, +"that I was reminded of a friend of mine, when you spoke just now of +the young gentleman whose adventures are in the newspapers. Is it +possible that you referred to the brother of the present Earl of +Norland? A handsome young Irishman--with whom I first became acquainted +many years since. Am I right in supposing that you and Miss Henley know +Lord Harry?" she asked. + +What more than this could an unprejudiced mind require? Mrs. Vimpany +had set herself right with a simplicity that defied suspicion. Iris +looked at Mountjoy. He appeared to know when he was beaten. Having +acknowledged that Lord Harry was the young gentleman of whom he and +Miss Henley had been speaking, he rose to take leave. + +After what had passed, Iris felt the necessity of speaking privately to +Hugh. The necessary excuse presented itself in the remote situation of +the inn. "You will never find your way back," she said, "through the +labyrinth of crooked streets in this old town. Wait for me a minute, +and I will be your guide." + +Mrs. Vimpany protested. "My dear! let the servant show the way." + +Iris held gaily to her resolution, and ran away to her room. Mrs. +Vimpany yielded with her best grace. Miss Henley's motive could hardly +have been plainer to her, if Miss Henley had confessed it herself. +"What a charming girl!" the doctor's amiable wife said to Mountjoy, +when they were alone. "If I were a man, Miss Iris is just the young +lady that I should fall in love with." She looked significantly at +Mountjoy. Nothing came of it. She went on: "Miss Henley must have had +many opportunities of being married; but the right man has, I fear, not +yet presented himself." Once more her eloquent eyes consulted Mountjoy, +and once more nothing came of it. Some women are easily discouraged. +Impenetrable Mrs. Vimpany was one of the other women; she had not done +with Mountjoy yet--she invited him to dinner on the next day. + +"Our early hour is three o'clock," she said modestly. "Pray join us. I +hope to have the pleasure of introducing my husband." + +Mountjoy had his reasons for wishing to see the husband. As he accepted +the invitation, Miss Henley returned to accompany him to the inn. + +Iris put the inevitable question to Hugh as soon as they were out of +the doctor's house--"What do you say of Mrs. Vimpany now?" + +"I say that she must have been once an actress," Mountjoy answered; +"and that she carries her experience of the stage into private life." + +"What do you propose to do next?" + +"I propose to wait, and see Mrs. Vimpany's husband to-morrow." + +"Why?" + +"Mrs. Vimpany, my dear, is too clever for me. If--observe, please, that +I do her the justice of putting it in that way--if she is really Lord +Harry's creature, employed to keep watch on you, and to inform him of +your next place of residence in England, I own that she has completely +deceived me. In that case, it is just possible that the husband is not +such a finished and perfect humbug as the wife. I may be able to see +through him. I can but try." + +Iris sighed. "I almost hope you may not succeed," she said. + +Mountjoy was puzzled, and made no attempt to conceal it. "I thought you +only wanted to get at the truth," he answered. + +"My mind might be easier, perhaps, if I was left in doubt," she +suggested. "A perverse way of thinking has set up my poor opinion +against yours. But I am getting back to my better sense. I believe you +were entirely right when you tried to prevent me from rushing to +conclusions; it is more than likely that I have done Mrs. Vimpany an +injustice. Oh, Hugh, I ought to keep a friend--I who have so few +friends--when I have got one! And there is another feeling in me which +I must not conceal from you. When I remember Lord Harry's noble conduct +in trying to save poor Arthur, I cannot believe him capable of such +hateful deceit as consenting to our separation, and then having me +secretly watched by a spy. What monstrous inconsistency! Can anybody +believe it? Can anybody account for it?" + +"I think I can account for it, Iris, if you will let me make the +attempt. You are mistaken to begin with." + +"How am I mistaken?" + +"You shall see. There is no such creature as a perfectly consistent +human being on the face of the earth--and, strange as it may seem to +you, the human beings themselves are not aware of it. The reason for +this curious state of things is not far to seek. How can people who are +ignorant--as we see every day--of their own characters be capable of +correctly estimating the characters of others? Even the influence of +their religion fails to open their eyes to the truth. In the Prayer +which is the most precious possession of Christendom, their lips repeat +the entreaty that they may not be led into temptation--but their minds +fail to draw the inference. If that pathetic petition means anything, +it means that virtuous men and women are capable of becoming vicious +men and women, if a powerful temptation puts them to the test. Every +Sunday, devout members of the congregation in church--models of +excellence in their own estimation, and in the estimation of their +neighbours--declare that they have done those things which they ought +not to have done, and that there is no health in them. Will you believe +that they are encouraged by their Prayer-books to present this sad +exposure of the frailty of their own admirable characters? How +inconsistent--and yet how entirely true! Lord Harry, as you rightly +say, behaved nobly in trying to save my dear lost brother. He ought, as +you think, and as other people think, to be consistently noble, after +that, in all his thoughts and actions, to the end of his life. Suppose +that temptation does try him--such temptation, Iris, as you innocently +present--why doesn't he offer a superhuman resistance? You might as +well ask, Why is he a mortal man? How inconsistent, how improbable, +that he should have tendencies to evil in him, as well as tendencies to +good! Ah, I see you don't like this. It would be infinitely more +agreeable (wouldn't it?) if Lord Harry was one of the entirely +consistent characters which are sometimes presented in works of +fiction. Our good English readers are charmed with the man, the woman, +or the child, who is introduced to them by the kind novelist as a being +without faults. Do they stop to consider whether this is a true picture +of humanity? It would be a terrible day for the book if they ever did +that. But the book is in no danger. The readers would even fail to +discover the falseness of the picture, if they were presented to +themselves as perfect characters. 'We mustn't say so, but how +wonderfully like us!' There would be the only impression produced. I am +not trying to dishearten you; I want to encourage you to look at +humanity from a wider and truer point of view. Do not be too readily +depressed, if you find your faith shaken in a person whom you have +hitherto believed to be good. That person has been led into temptation. +Wait till time shows you that the evil influence is not everlasting, +and that the good influence will inconsistently renew your faith out of +the very depths of your despair. Humanity, in general, is neither +perfectly good nor perfectly wicked: take it as you find it. Is this a +hard lesson to learn? Well! it's easy to do what other people do, under +similar circumstances. Listen to the unwelcome truth to-day, my dear; +and forget it to-morrow." + +They parted at the door of the inn. + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE GAME: MOUNTJOY PLAYS A NEW CARD + +MR. VIMPANY (of the College of Surgeons) was a burly man, heavily built +from head to foot. His bold round eyes looked straight at his +fellow-creatures with an expression of impudent good humour; his +whiskers were bushy, his hands were big, his lips were thick, his legs +were solid. Add to this a broad sunburnt face, and a grey coat with +wide tails, a waistcoat with a check pattern, and leather +riding-gaiters--and no stranger could have failed to mistake Mr. +Vimpany for a farmer of the old school. He was proud of the false +impression that he created. "Nature built me to be a farmer," he used +to say. "But my poor foolish old mother was a lady by birth, and she +insisted on her son being a professional man. I hadn't brains for the +Law, or money for the Army, or morals for the Church. And here I am a +country doctor--the one representative of slavery left in the +nineteenth century. You may not believe me, but I never see a labourer +at the plough that I don't envy him." + +This was the husband of the elegant lady with the elaborate manners. +This was the man who received Mountjoy with a "Glad to see you, sir," +and a shake of the hand that hurt him. + +"Coarse fare," said Mr. Vimpany, carving a big joint of beef; "but I +can't afford anything better. Only a pudding to follow, and a glass of +glorious old sherry. Miss Henley is good enough to excuse it--and my +wife's used to it--and you will put up with it, Mr. Mountjoy, if you +are half as amiable as you look. I'm an old-fashioned man. The pleasure +of a glass of wine with you, sir." + +Hugh's first experience of the "glorious old sherry" led him to a +discovery, which proved to be more important than he was disposed to +consider it at the moment. He merely observed, with some amusement, +that Mr. Vimpany smacked his lips in hearty approval of the worst +sherry that his guest had ever tasted. Here, plainly self-betrayed, was +a medical man who was an exception to a general rule in the +profession--here was a doctor ignorant of the difference between good +wine and bad! + +Both the ladies were anxious to know how Mountjoy had passed the night +at the inn. He had only time to say that there was nothing to complain +of, when Mr. Vimpany burst into an explosion of laughter. + +"Oh, but you must have had something to complain of!" said the big +doctor. "I would bet a hundred, if I could afford it, that the landlady +tried to poison you with her sour French wine." + +"Do you speak of the claret at the inn, after having tasted it?" +Mountjoy asked. + +"What do you take me for?" cried Mr. Vimpany. "After all I have heard +of that claret, I am not fool enough to try it myself, I can tell you." +Mountjoy received this answer in silence. The doctor's ignorance and +the doctor's prejudice, in the matter of wine, had started a new train +of thought in Hugh's mind, which threatened serious consequences to Mr. +Vimpany himself. There was a pause at the table; nobody spoke. The +doctor saw condemnation of his rudeness expressed in his wife's face. +He made a rough apology to Mountjoy, who was still preoccupied. "No +offence, I hope? It's in the nature of me, sir, to speak my mind. If I +could fawn and flatter, I should have got on better in my profession. +I'm what they call a rough diamond. No, offence, I say?" + +"None whatever, Mr. Vimpany." + +"That's right! Try another glass of sherry." + +Mountjoy took the sherry. + +Iris looked at him, lost in surprise. It was unlike Hugh to be +interested in a stranger's opinion of wine. It was unlike him to drink +wine which was evidently not to his taste. And it was especially unlike +his customary courtesy to let himself fall into thought at dinner-time, +when there were other persons at the table. Was he ill? Impossible to +look at him, and not see that he was in perfect health. What did it +mean? + +Finding Mountjoy inattentive, Mr. Vimpany addressed himself to Iris. + +"I had to ride hard, Miss Henley, to get home in time for dinner. There +are patients, I must tell you, who send for the doctor, and then seem +to think they know more about it than the very man whom they have +called in to cure them. It isn't he who tells them what their illness +is; it's they who tell him. They dispute about the medical treatment +that's best for them, and the one thing they are never tired of doing +is talking about their symptoms. It was an old man's gabble that kept +me late to-day. However, the Squire, as they call him in these parts, +is a patient with a long purse; I am obliged to submit." + +"A gentleman of the old school, dear Miss Henley," Mrs. Vimpany +explained. "Immensely rich. Is he better?" she asked, turning to her +husband. + +"Better?" cried the outspoken doctor. "Pooh! there's nothing the matter +with him but gluttony. He went to London, and consulted a great man, a +humbug with a handle to his name. The famous physician got rid of him +in no time--sent him abroad to boil himself in foreign baths. He came +home again worse than ever, and consulted poor Me. I found him at +dinner--a perfect feast, I give you my word of honour!--and the old +fool gorging himself till he was black in the face. His wine, I should +have said, was not up to the mark; wanted body and flavour, you know. +Ah, Mr. Mountjoy, this seems to interest you; reminds you of the +landlady's wine--eh? Well, sir, how do you think I treated the Squire? +Emptied his infirm old inside with an emetic--and there he was on his +legs again. Whenever he overeats himself he sends for me; and pays +liberally. I ought to be grateful to him, and I am. Upon my soul, I +believe I should be in the bankruptcy court but for the Squire's +stomach. Look at my wife! She's shocked at me. We ought to keep up +appearances, my dear? Not I! When I am poor, I say I am poor. When I +cure a patient, I make no mystery of it; everybody's welcome to know +how it's done. Don't be down-hearted, Arabella; nature never meant your +husband for a doctor, and there's the long and the short of it. Another +glass of sherry, Mr. Mountjoy?" + +All social ceremonies--including the curious English custom which sends +the ladies upstairs, after dinner, and leaves the gentlemen at the +table--found a devoted adherent in Mrs. Vimpany. She rose as if she had +been presiding at a banquet, and led Miss Henley affectionately to the +drawing-room. Iris glanced at Hugh. No; his mind was not at ease yet; +the preoccupied look had not left his face. + +Jovial Mr. Vimpany pushed the bottle across the table to his guest, and +held out a handful of big black cigars. + +"Now for the juice of the grape," he cried, "and the best cigar in all +England!" + +He had just filled his glass, and struck a light for his cigar, when +the servant came in with a note. Some men relieve their sense of +indignation in one way, and some in another. The doctor's form of +relief was an oath. "Talk about slavery!" he shouted. "Find me such a +slave in all Africa as a man in my profession. There isn't an hour of +the day or night that he can call his own. Here's a stupid old woman +with an asthma, who has got another spasmodic attack--and I must leave +my dinner-table and my friend, just as we are enjoying ourselves. I +have half a mind not to go." + +The inattentive guest suddenly set himself right in his host's +estimation. Hugh remonstrated with an appearance of interest in the +case, which the doctor interpreted as a compliment to himself: "Oh, Mr. +Vimpany, humanity! humanity!" + +"Oh, Mr. Mountjoy, money! money!" the facetious doctor answered. "The +old lady is our Mayor's mother, sir. You don't seem to be quick at +taking a joke. Make your mind easy; I shall pocket my fee." + +As soon as he had closed the door, Hugh Mountjoy uttered a devout +ejaculation. "Thank God!" he said--and walked up and down the room, +free to think without interruption at last. + +The subject of his meditations was the influence of intoxication in +disclosing the hidden weaknesses and vices of a man's character by +exhibiting them just as they are, released from the restraint which he +exercises over himself when he is sober. That there was a weak side, +and probably a vicious side, in Mr. Vimpany's nature it was hardly +possible to doubt. His blustering good humour, his audacious +self-conceit, the tones of his voice, the expression in his eyes, all +revealed him (to use one expressive word) as a humbug. Let drink subtly +deprive him of his capacity for self-concealment! and the true nature +of his wife's association with Lord Harry might sooner or later show +itself--say, in after-dinner talk, under skilful management. The right +method of entrapping him into a state of intoxication (which might have +presented serious difficulties under other circumstances) was +suggested, partly by his ignorance of the difference between good wine +and bad, and partly by Mountjoy's knowledge of the excellent quality of +the landlady's claret. He had recognised, as soon as he tasted it, that +finest vintage of Bordeaux, which conceals its true strength--to a +gross and ignorant taste--under the exquisite delicacy of its flavour. +Encourage Mr. Vimpany by means of a dinner at the inn, to give his +opinion as a man whose judgment in claret was to be seriously +consulted--and permit him also to discover that Hugh was rich enough to +have been able to buy the wine--and the attainment of the end in view +would be simply a question of time. There was certainly the chance to +be reckoned with, that his thick head might prove to be too strong for +the success of the experiment. Mountjoy determined to try it, and did +try it nevertheless. + +Mr. Vimpany returned from his medical errand, thoroughly well satisfied +with himself. + +"The Mayor's mother has reason to thank you, sir," he announced. "If +you hadn't hurried me away, the wretched old creature would have been +choked. A regular stand-up fight, by Jupiter, between death and the +doctor!--and the doctor has won! Give me the reward of merit. Pass the +bottle." + +He took up the decanter, and looked at it. + +"Why, what have you been about?" he asked. "I made up my mind that I +should want the key of the cellar when I came back, and I don't believe +you have drunk a drop in my absence. What does it mean?" + +"It means that I am not worthy of your sherry," Mountjoy answered. "The +Spanish wines are too strong for my weak digestion." + +Mr. Vimpany burst into one of his explosions of laughter. "You miss the +landlady's vinegar--eh?" + +"Yes, I do! Wait a minute, doctor; I have a word to say on my +side--and, like you, I mean what I say. The landlady's vinegar is some +of the finest Chateau Margaux I have ever met with--thrown away on +ignorant people who are quite unworthy of it." + +The doctor's natural insolence showed itself. "You have bought this +wonderful wine, of course?" he said satirically. + +"That," Mountjoy answered, "is just what I have done." + +For once in his life, Mr. Vimpany's self-sufficient readiness of speech +failed him. He stared at his guest in dumb amazement. On this occasion, +Mountjoy improved the opportunity to good purpose. Mr. Vimpany accepted +with the utmost readiness an invitation to dine on the next day at the +inn. But he made a condition. "In case I don't agree with you about +that Chateau--what-you-call-it," he said, "you won't mind my sending +home for a bottle of sherry?" + +The next event of the day was a visit to the most interesting monument +of antiquity in the town. In the absence of the doctor, caused by +professional engagements, Miss Henley took Mountjoy to see the old +church--and Mrs. Vimpany accompanied them, as a mark of respect to Miss +Henley's friend. + +When there was a chance of being able to speak confidentially, Iris was +eager in praising the doctor's wife. "You can't imagine, Hugh, how +agreeable she has been, and how entirely she has convinced me that I +was wrong, shamefully wrong, in thinking of her as I did. She sees that +you dislike her, and yet she speaks so nicely of you. 'Your clever +friend enjoys your society,' she said; 'pray accompany me when I take +him to see the church.' How unselfish!" + +Mountjoy kept his own counsel. The generous impulses which sometimes +led Iris astray were, as he well knew, beyond the reach of +remonstrance. His own opinion of Mrs. Vimpany still pronounced steadily +against her. Prepared for discoveries, on the next day, which might +prove too serious to be trifled with, he now did his best to provide +for future emergencies. + +After first satisfying himself that there was nothing in the present +state of the maid's health which need detain her mistress at +Honeybuzzard, he next completed his preparations by returning to the +inn, and writing to Mr. Henley. With strict regard to truth, his letter +presented the daughter's claim on the father under a new point of view. +Whatever the end of it might be, Mr. Henley was requested to +communicate his intentions by telegraph. Will you receive Iris? was the +question submitted. The answer expected was: Yes or No. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE GAME: MOUNTJOY WINS + +MR. HENLEY's telegram arrived at the inn the next morning. + +He was willing to receive his daughter, but not unreservedly. The +message was characteristic of the man: "Yes--on trial." Mountjoy was +not shocked, was not even surprised. He knew that the successful +speculations, by means of which Mr. Henley had accumulated his wealth, +had raised against him enemies, who had spread scandalous reports which +had never been completely refuted. The silent secession of friends, in +whose fidelity he trusted, had hardened the man's heart and embittered +his nature. Strangers in distress, who appealed to the rich retired +merchant for help, found in their excellent references to character the +worst form of persuasion that they could have adopted. Paupers without +a rag of reputation left to cover them, were the objects of charity +whom Mr. Henley relieved. When he was asked to justify his conduct, he +said: "I have a sympathy with bad characters---I am one of them +myself." + +With the arrival of the dinner hour the doctor appeared, in no very +amiable humour, at the inn. + +"Another hard day's work," he said; "I should sink under it, if I +hadn't a prospect of getting rid of my practice here. London--or the +neighbourhood of London--there's the right place for a man like Me. +Well? Where's the wonderful wine? Mind! I'm Tom-Tell-Truth; if I don't +like your French tipple, I shall say so." + +The inn possessed no claret glasses; they drank the grand wine in +tumblers as if it had been vin ordinaire. + +Mr. Vimpany showed that he was acquainted with the formalities proper +to the ceremony of tasting. He filled his makeshift glass, he held it +up to the light, and looked at the wine severely; he moved the tumbler +to and fro under his nose, and smelt at it again and again; he paused +and reflected; he tasted the claret as cautiously as if he feared it +might be poisoned; he smacked his lips, and emptied his glass at a +draught; lastly, he showed some consideration for his host's anxiety, +and pronounced sentence on the wine. + +"Not so good as you think it, sir. But nice light claret; clean and +wholesome. I hope you haven't given too much for it?" + +Thus far, Hugh had played a losing game patiently. His reward had come +at last. After what the doctor had just said to him, he saw the winning +card safe in his own hand. + +The bad dinner was soon over. No soup, of course; fish, in the state of +preservation usually presented by a decayed country town; steak that +rivalled the toughness of india-rubber; potatoes whose aspect said, +"stranger, don't eat us"; pudding that would have produced a sense of +discouragement, even in the mind of a child; and the famous English +cheese which comes to us, oddly enough, from the United States, and +stings us vindictively when we put it into our mouths. But the wine, +the glorious wine, would have made amends to anybody but Mr. Vimpany +for the woeful deficiencies of the food. Tumbler-full after +tumbler-full of that noble vintage poured down his thirsty and ignorant +throat; and still he persisted in declaring that it was nice light +stuff, and still he unforgivingly bore in mind the badness of the +dinner. + +"The feeding here," said this candid man, "is worse if possible than +the feeding at sea, when I served as doctor on board a passenger-steamer. +Shall I tell you how I lost my place? Oh, say so plainly, if +you don't think my little anecdote worth listening to!" + +"My dear sir, I am waiting to hear it." + +"Very good. No offence, I hope? That's right! Well, sir, the captain of +the ship complained of me to the owners; I wouldn't go round, every +morning, and knock at the ladies' cabin-doors, and ask how they felt +after a sea-sick night. Who doesn't know what they feel, without +knocking at their doors? Let them send for the doctor when they want +him. That was how I understood my duty; and there was the line of +conduct that lost me my place. Pass the wine. Talking of ladies, what +do you think of my wife? Did you ever see such distinguished manners +before? My dear fellow, I have taken a fancy to you. Shake hands. I'll +tell you another little anecdote. Where do you think my wife picked up +her fashionable airs and graces? Ho! ho! On the stage! The highest +branch of the profession, sir--a tragic actress. If you had seen her in +Lady Macbeth, Mrs. Vimpany would have made your flesh creep. Look at +me, and feast your eyes on a man who is above hypocritical objections +to the theatre. Haven't I proved it by marrying an actress? But we +don't mention it here. The savages in this beastly place wouldn't +employ me, if they knew I had married a stage-player. Hullo! The +bottle's empty again. Ha! here's another bottle, full. I love a man who +has always got a full bottle to offer his friend. Shake hands. I say, +Mountjoy, tell me on your sacred word of honour, can you keep a secret? +My wife's secret, sir! Stop! let me look at you again. I thought I saw +you smile. If a man smiles at me, when I am opening my whole heart to +him, by the living jingo, I would knock that man down at his own table! +What? you didn't smile? I apologise. Your hand again; I drink your +health in your own good wine. Where was I? What was I talking about?" + +Mountjoy carefully humoured his interesting guest. + +"You were about to honour me," he said, "by taking me into your +confidence." Mr. Vimpany stared in tipsy bewilderment. Mountjoy tried +again in plainer language: "You were going to tell me a secret." + +This time, the doctor grasped the idea. He looked round cunningly to +the door. "Any eavesdroppers?" he asked. "Hush! Whisper--this is +serious--whisper! What was it I was going to tell you? What was the +secret, old boy?" + +Mountjoy answered a little too readily: "I think it related to Mrs. +Vimpany." + +Mrs. Vimpany's husband threw himself back in his chair, snatched a +dirty handkerchief out of his pocket, and began to cry. + +"Here's a false friend!" the creature whimpered. "Asks me to dinner, +and takes advantage of my dependent situation to insult my wife. The +loveliest of women, the sweetest of women, the innocentest of women. +Oh, my wife! my wife!" He suddenly threw his handkerchief to the other +end of the room, and burst out laughing. "Ho! ho! Mountjoy, what an +infernal fool you must be to take me seriously. I can act, too. Do you +think I care about my wife? She was a fine woman once: she's a bundle +of old rags now. But she has her merits. Hush! I want to know +something. Have you got a lord among your circle of acquaintance?" + +Experience made Mountjoy more careful; perhaps a little too careful. He +only said "Yes." + +The doctor's dignity asserted itself. "That's a short answer, sir, to a +man in my position. If you want me to believe you, mention your +friend's name." + +Here was a chance at last! "His name;" Mountjoy began, "is Lord +Harry--" + +Mr. Vimpany lost his dignity in an instant. He struck his heavy fist on +the table, with a blow that made the tumblers jump. + +"Coincidence!" he cried. "How wonderful--no; that's not the +word--providential is the word--how providential are coincidences! I +mean, of course, to a rightly constituted mind. Let nobody contradict +me! When I say a rightly constituted mind I speak seriously; and a +young man like you will be all the better for it. Mountjoy! dear +Mountjoy! jolly Mountjoy! my wife's lord is your lord--Lord Harry. No; +none of your nonsense--I won't have any more wine. Yes, I will; it +might hurt your feelings if I didn't drink with you. Pass the bottle. +Ha! That's a nice ring you've got on your finger. Perhaps you think it +valuable? It's nothing, sir; it's dross, it's dirt, compared to my +wife's diamond pin! There's a jewel, if you like! It will be worth a +fortune to us when we sell it. A gift, dear sir! I'm afraid I've been +too familiar with you. Speaking as a born gentleman, I beg to present +my respects, and I call you 'dear sir.' Did I tell you the diamond pin +was a gift? It's nothing of the sort; we are under no obligation; my +wife, my admirable wife, has earned that diamond pin. By registered +post; and what I call a manly letter from Lord Harry. He is deeply +obliged (I give you the sense of it) by what my wife has done for him; +ready money is scarce with my lord; he sends a family jewel, with his +love. Oh, I'm not jealous. He's welcome to love Mrs. Vimpany, in her +old age, if he likes. Did you say that, sir? Did you say that Lord +Harry, or any man, was welcome to love Mrs. Vimpany? I have a great +mind to throw this bottle at your head. No, I won't; it's wasting good +wine! How kind of you to give me good wine. Who are you? I don't like +dining with a stranger. Do you know any friend of mine? Do you know a +man named Mountjoy? Do you know two men named Mountjoy? No: you don't. +One of them is dead: killed by those murdering scoundrels what do you +call them? Eh, what?" The doctor's voice began to falter, his head +dropped; he slumbered suddenly and woke suddenly, and began talking +again suddenly. "Would you like to be made acquainted with Lord Harry? +I'll give you a sketch of his character before I introduce him. Between +ourselves, he's a desperate wretch. Do you know why he employed my +wife, my admirable wife? You will agree with me; he ought to have +looked after his young woman himself. We've got his young woman safe in +our house. A nice girl. Not my style; my medical knowledge certifies +she's cold-blooded. Lord Harry has only to come over here and find her. +Why the devil doesn't he come? What is it keeps him in Ireland? Do you +know? I seem to have forgotten. My own belief is I've got softening of +the brain. What's good for softening of the brain? There isn't a doctor +living who won't tell you the right remedy--wine. Pass the wine. If +this claret is worth a farthing, it's worth a guinea a bottle. I ask +you in confidence; did you ever hear of such a fool as my wife's lord? +His name escapes me. No matter; he stops in Ireland--hunting. Hunting +what? The fox? Nothing so noble; hunting assassins. He's got some +grudge against one of them. Means to kill one of them. A word in your +ear; they'll kill him. Do you ever bet? Five to one, he's a dead man +before the end of the week. When is the end of the week? Tuesday, +Wednesday--no, Saturday--that's the beginning of the week--no, it +isn't--the beginning of the week isn't the Sabbath--Sunday, of +course--we are not Christians, we are Jews--I mean we are Jews, we are +not Christians--I mean--" + +The claret got the better of his tongue, at last. He mumbled and +muttered; he sank back in his chair; he chuckled; he hiccupped; he fell +asleep. + +All and more than all that Mountjoy feared, he had now discovered. In a +state of sobriety, the doctor was probably one of those men who are +always ready to lie. In a state of intoxication the utterances of his +drunken delirium might unconsciously betray the truth. The reason which +he had given for Lord Harry's continued absence in Ireland, could not +be wisely rejected as unworthy of belief. It was in the reckless nature +of the wild lord to put his own life in peril, in the hope of revenging +Arthur Mountjoy on the wretch who had killed him. Taking this bad news +for granted, was there any need to distress Iris by communicating the +motive which detained Lord Harry in his own country? Surely not! + +And, again, was there any immediate advantage to be gained by revealing +the true character of Mrs. Vimpany, as a spy, and, worse still, a spy +who was paid? In her present state of feeling, Iris would, in all +probability, refuse to believe it. + +Arriving at these conclusions, Hugh looked at the doctor snoring and +choking in an easy-chair. He had not wasted the time and patience +devoted to the stratagem which had now successfully reached its end. +After what he had just heard--thanks to the claret--he could not +hesitate to accomplish the speedy removal of Iris from Mr. Vimpany's +house; using her father's telegram as the only means of persuasion on +which it was possible to rely. Mountjoy left the inn without ceremony, +and hurried away to Iris in the hope of inducing her to return to +London with him that night. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +DOCTORING THE DOCTOR + +ASKING for Miss Henley at the doctor's door, Hugh was informed that she +had gone out, with her invalid maid, for a walk. She had left word, if +Mr. Mountjoy called in her absence, to beg that he would kindly wait +for her return. + +On his way up to the drawing-room, Mountjoy heard Mrs. Vimpany's +sonorous voice occupied, as he supposed, in reading aloud. The door +being opened for him, he surprised her, striding up and down the room +with a book in her hand; grandly declaiming without anybody to applaud +her. After what Hugh had already heard, he could only conclude that +reminiscences of her theatrical career had tempted the solitary actress +to make a private appearance, for her own pleasure, in one of those +tragic characters to which her husband had alluded. She recovered her +self-possession on Mountjoy's appearance, with the ease of a mistress +of her art. "Pardon me," she said, holding up her book with one hand, +and tapping it indicatively with the other: "Shakespeare carries me out +of myself. A spark of the poet's fire burns in the poet's humble +servant. May I hope that I have made myself understood? You look as if +you had a fellow-feeling for me." + +Mountjoy did his best to fill the sympathetic part assigned to him, and +only succeeded in showing what a bad actor he would have been, if he +had gone on the stage. Under the sedative influence thus administered, +Mrs. Vimpany put away her book, and descended at once from the highest +poetry to the lowest prose. + +"Let us return to domestic events," she said indulgently. "Have the +people at the inn given you a good dinner?" + +"The people did their best," Mountjoy answered cautiously. + +"Has my husband returned with you?" Mrs. Vimpany went on. + +Mountjoy began to regret that he had not waited for Iris in the street. +He was obliged to acknowledge that the doctor had not returned with +him. + +"Where is Mr. Vimpany?" + +"At the inn." + +"What is he doing there?" + +Mountjoy hesitated. Mrs. Vimpany rose again into the regions of tragic +poetry. She stepped up to him, as if he had been Macbeth, and she was +ready to use the daggers. "I understand but too well," she declared in +terrible tones. "My wretched husband's vices are known to me. Mr. +Vimpany is intoxicated." + +Hugh tried to make the best of it. "Only asleep," he said. Mrs. Vimpany +looked at him once more. This time, it was Queen Katharine looking at +Cardinal Wolsey. She bowed with lofty courtesy, and opened the door. "I +have occasion," she said, "to go out"----and made an exit. + +Five minutes later, Mountjoy (standing at the window, impatiently on +the watch for the return of Iris) saw Mrs. Vimpany in the street. She +entered a chemist's shop, on the opposite side of the way, and came out +again with a bottle in her hand. It was enclosed in the customary +medical wrapping of white paper. Majestically, she passed out of sight. +If Hugh had followed her he would have traced the doctor's wife to the +door of the inn. + +The unemployed waiter was on the house-steps, looking about him--with +nothing to see. He made his bow to Mrs. Vimpany, and informed her that +the landlady had gone out. + +"You will do as well," was the reply. "Is Mr. Vimpany here?" + +The waiter smiled, and led the way through the passage to the foot of +the stairs. "You can hear him, ma'am." It was quite true; Mr. Vimpany's +snoring answered for Mr. Vimpany. His wife ascended the first two or +three stairs, and stopped to speak again to the waiter. She asked what +the two gentlemen had taken to drink with their dinner. They had taken +"the French wine." + +"And nothing else?" + +The waiter ventured on a little joke. "Nothing else," he said--"and +more than enough of it, too." + +"Not more than enough, I suppose, for the good of the house," Mrs. +Vimpany remarked. + +"I beg your pardon, ma'am; the claret the two gentlemen drank is not +charged for in the bill." + +"What do you mean?" + +The waiter explained that Mr. Mountjoy had purchased the whole stock of +the wine. Suspicion, as well as surprise, appeared in Mrs. Vimpany's +face. She had hitherto thought it likely that Miss Henley's +gentleman-like friend might be secretly in love with the young lady. +Her doubts of him, now, took a wider range of distrust. She went on up +the stairs by herself, and banged the door of the private room as the +easiest means of waking the sleeping man. To the utmost noise that she +could make in this way, he was perfectly impenetrable. For a while she +waited, looking at him across the table with unutterable contempt. + +There was the man to whom the religion of the land and the law of the +land, acting together in perfect harmony, had fettered her for life! +Some women, in her position, might have wasted time in useless +self-reproach. Mrs. Vimpany reviewed her miserable married life with +the finest mockery of her own misfortune. "Virtue," she said to +herself, "is its own reward." + +Glancing with careless curiosity at the disorder of the dinner-table, +she noticed some wine still left in the bottom of her husband's glass. +Had artificial means been used to reduce him to his present condition? +She tasted the claret. No; there was nothing in the flavour of it which +betrayed that he had been drugged. If the waiter was to be believed, he +had only drunk claret--and there he was, in a state of helpless +stupefaction, nevertheless. + +She looked again at the dinner-table, and discovered one, among the +many empty bottles, with some wine still left in it. After a moment of +reflection, she took a clean tumbler from the sideboard. + +Here was the wine which had been an object of derision to Mr. Vimpany +and his friends. They were gross feeders and drinkers; and it might not +be amiss to put their opinions to the test. She was not searching for +the taste of a drug now; her present experiment proposed to try the +wine on its own merits. + +At the time of her triumphs on the country stage--before the date of +her unlucky marriage--rich admirers had entertained the handsome +actress at suppers, which offered every luxury that the most perfect +table could supply. Experience had made her acquainted with the flavour +of the finest claret--and that experience was renewed by the claret +which she was now tasting. It was easy to understand why Mr. Mountjoy +had purchased the wine; and, after a little thinking, his motive for +inviting Mr. Vimpany to dinner seemed to be equally plain. Foiled in +their first attempt at discovery by her own prudence and tact, his +suspicions had set their trap. Her gross husband had been tempted to +drink, and to talk at random (for Mr. Mountjoy's benefit) in a state of +intoxication! + +What secrets might the helpless wretch not have betrayed before the +wine had completely stupefied him? + +Urged by rage and fear, she shook him furiously. He woke; he glared at +her with bloodshot eyes; he threatened her with his clenched fist. +There was but one way of lifting his purblind stupidity to the light. +She appealed to his experience of himself, on many a former occasion: +"You fool, you have been drinking again--and there's a patient waiting +for you." To that dilemma he was accustomed; the statement of it +partially roused him. Mrs. Vimpany tore off the paper wrapping, and +opened the medicine-bottle which she had brought with her. + +He stared at it; he muttered to himself: "Is she going to poison me?" +She seized his head with one hand, and held the open bottle to his +nose. "Your own prescription," she cried, "for yourself and your +hateful friends." + +His nose told him what words might have tried vainly to say: he +swallowed the mixture. "If I lose the patient," he muttered oracularly, +"I lose the money." His resolute wife dragged him out of his chair. The +second door in the dining-room led into an empty bed-chamber. With her +help, he got into the room, and dropped on the bed. + +Mrs. Vimpany consulted her watch. + +On many a former occasion she had learnt what interval of repose was +required, before the sobering influence of the mixture could +successfully assert itself. For the present, she had only to return to +the other room. The waiter presented himself, asking if there was +anything he could do for her. Familiar with the defective side of her +husband's character, he understood what it meant when she pointed to +the bedroom door. "The old story, ma'am," he said, with an air of +respectful sympathy. "Can I get you a cup of tea?" + +Mrs. Vimpany accepted the tea, and enjoyed it thoughtfully. + +She had two objects in view--to be revenged on Mountjoy, and to find a +way of forcing him to leave the town before he could communicate his +discoveries to Iris. How to reach these separate ends, by one and the +same means, was still the problem which she was trying to solve, when +the doctor's coarse voice was audible, calling for somebody to come to +him. + +If his head was only clear enough, by this time, to understand the +questions which she meant to put, his answers might suggest the idea of +which she was in search. Rising with alacrity, Mrs. Vimpany returned to +the bed-chamber. + +"You miserable creature," she began, "are you sober now?" + +"I'm as sober as you are." + +"Do you know," she went on, "why Mr. Mountjoy asked you to dine with +him?" + +"Because he's my friend." + +"He is your worst enemy. Hold your tongue! I'll explain what I mean +directly. Rouse your memory, if you have got a memory left. I want to +know what you and Mr. Mountjoy talked about after dinner." + +He stared at her helplessly. She tried to find her way to his +recollection by making suggestive inquiries. It was useless; he only +complained of being thirsty. His wife lost her self-control. She was +too furiously angry with him to be able to remain in the room. +Recovering her composure when she was alone, she sent for soda-water +and brandy. Her one chance of making him useful was to humour his vile +temper; she waited on him herself. + +In some degree, the drink cleared his muddled head. Mrs. Vimpany tried +his memory once more. Had he said this? Had he said that? Yes: he +thought it likely. Had he, or had Mr. Mountjoy, mentioned Lord Harry's +name? A glimmer of intelligence showed itself in his stupid eyes. +Yes--and they had quarrelled about it: he rather thought he had thrown +a bottle at Mr. Mountjoy's head. Had they, either of them, said +anything about Miss Henley? Oh, of course! What was it? He was unable +to remember. Had his wife done bothering him, now? + +"Not quite," she replied. "Try to understand what I am going to say to +you. If Lord Harry comes to us while Miss Henley is in our house--" + +He interrupted her: "That's your business." + +"Wait a little. It's my business, if I hear beforehand that his +lordship is coming. But he is quite reckless enough to take us by +surprise. In that case, I want you to make yourself useful. If you +happen to be at home, keep him from seeing Miss Henley until I have +seen her first." + +"Why?" + +"I want an opportunity, my dear, of telling Miss Henley that I have +been wicked enough to deceive her, before she finds it out for herself. +I may hope she will forgive me, if I confess everything." + +The doctor laughed: "What the devil does it matter whether she forgives +you or not?" + +"It matters a great deal." + +"Why, you talk as if you were fond of her!" + +"I am." + +The doctor's clouded intelligence was beginning to clear; he made a +smart reply: "Fond of her, and deceiving her--aha!" + +"Yes," she said quietly, "that's just what it is. It has grown on me, +little by little; I can't help liking Miss Henley." + +"Well," Mr. Vimpany remarked, "you _are_ a fool!" He looked at her +cunningly. "Suppose I do make myself useful, what am I to gain by it?" + +"Let us get back," she suggested, "to the gentleman who invited you to +dinner, and made you tipsy for his own purposes." + +"I'll break every bone in his skin!" + +"Don't talk nonsense! Leave Mr. Mountjoy to me." + +"Do _you_ take his part? I can tell you this. If I drank too much of +that poisonous French stuff, Mountjoy set me the example. He was +tipsy--as you call it--shamefully tipsy, I give you my word of honour. +What's the matter now?" + +His wife (so impenetrably cool, thus far) had suddenly become excited. +There was not the smallest fragment of truth in what he had just said +of Hugh, and Mrs. Vimpany was not for a moment deceived by it. But the +lie had, accidentally, one merit--it suggested to her the idea which +she had vainly tried to find over her cup of tea. "Suppose I show you +how you may be revenged on Mr. Mountjoy," she said. + +"Well?" + +"Will you remember what I asked you to do for me, if Lord Harry takes +us by surprise?" + +He produced his pocket-diary, and told her to make a memorandum of it. +She wrote as briefly as if she had been writing a telegram: "Keep Lord +Harry from seeing Miss Henley, till I have seen her first." + +"Now," she said, taking a chair by the bedside, "you shall know what a +clever wife you have got. Listen to me." + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +HER FATHER'S MESSAGE + +LOOKING out of the drawing-room window, for the tenth time at least, +Mountjoy at last saw Iris in the street, returning to the house. + +She brought the maid with her into the drawing-room, in the gayest of +good spirits, and presented Rhoda to Mountjoy. + +"What a blessing a good long walk is, if we only knew it!" she +exclaimed. "Look at my little maid's colour! Who would suppose that she +came here with heavy eyes and pale cheeks? Except that she loses her +way in the town, whenever she goes out alone, we have every reason to +congratulate ourselves on our residence at Honeybuzzard. The doctor is +Rhoda's good genius, and the doctor's wife is her fairy godmother." + +Mountjoy's courtesy having offered the customary congratulations, the +maid was permitted to retire; and Iris was free to express her +astonishment at the friendly relations established (by means of the +dinner-table) between the two most dissimilar men on the face of +creation. + +"There is something overwhelming," she declared, "in the bare idea of +your having asked him to dine with you--on such a short acquaintance, +and being such a man! I should like to have peeped in, and seen you +entertaining your guest with the luxuries of the hotel larder. +Seriously, Hugh, your social sympathies have taken a range for which I +was not prepared. After the example that you have set me, I feel +ashamed of having doubted whether Mr. Vimpany was worthy of his +charming wife. Don't suppose that I am ungrateful to the doctor! He has +found his way to my regard, after what he has done for Rhoda. I only +fail to understand how he has possessed himself of _your_ sympathies." + +So she ran on, enjoying the exercise of her own sense of humour in +innocent ignorance of the serious interests which she was deriding. + +Mountjoy tried to stop her, and tried in vain. + +"No, no," she persisted as mischievously as ever, "the subject is too +interesting to be dismissed. I am dying to know how you and your guest +got through the dinner. Did he take more wine than was good for him? +And, when he forgot his good manners, did he set it all right again by +saying, 'No offence,' and passing the bottle?" + +Hugh could endure it no longer. "Pray control your high spirits for a +moment," he said. "I have news for you from home." + +Those words put an end to her outbreak of gaiety, in an instant. + +"News from my father?" she asked. + +"Yes." + +"Is he coming here?" + +"No; I have heard from him." + +"A letter?" + +"A telegram," Mountjoy explained, "in answer to a letter from me. I did +my best to press your claims on him, and I am glad to say I have not +failed." + +"Hugh, dear Hugh! have you succeeded in reconciling us?" + +Mountjoy produced the telegram. "I asked Mr. Henley," he said, "to let +me know at once whether he would receive you, and to answer plainly Yes +or No. The message might have been more kindly expressed--but, at any +rate, it is a favourable reply." + +Iris read the telegram. "Is there another father in the world," she +said sadly, "who would tell his daughter, when she asks to come home, +that he will receive her on trial?" + +"Surely, you are not offended with him, Iris?" + +She shook her head. "I am like you," she said. "I know him too well to +be offended. He shall find me dutiful, he shall find me patient. I am +afraid I must not expect you to wait for me in Honeybuzzard. Will you +tell my father that I hope to return to him in a week's time?" + +"Pardon me, Iris, I see no reason why you should waste a week in this +town. On the contrary, the more eager you show yourself to return to +your father, the more likely you are to recover your place in his +estimation. I had planned to take you home by the next train." + +Iris looked at him in astonishment. "Is it possible that you mean what +you say?" she asked. + +"My dear, I do most assuredly mean what I say. Why should you hesitate? +What possible reason can there be for staying here any longer?" + +"Oh, Hugh, how you disappoint me! What has become of your kind feeling, +your sense of justice, your consideration for others? Poor Mrs. +Vimpany!" + +"What has Mrs. Vimpany to do with it?" + +Iris was indignant. + +"What has Mrs. Vimpany to do with it?" she repeated. "After all that I +owe to that good creature's kindness; after I have promised to +accompany her--she has so few happy days, poor soul!--on excursions to +places of interest in the neighbourhood, do you expect me to leave +her--no! it's worse than that--do you expect me to throw her aside like +an old dress that I have worn out? And this after I have so unjustly, +so ungratefully suspected her in my own thoughts? Shameful! shameful!" + +With some difficulty, Mountjoy controlled himself. After what she had +just said, his lips were sealed on the subject of Mrs. Vimpany's true +character. He could only persist in appealing to her duty to her +father. + +"You are allowing your quick temper to carry you to strange +extremities," he answered. "If I think it of more importance to hasten +a reconciliation with your father than to encourage you to make +excursions with a lady whom you have only known for a week or two, what +have I done to deserve such an outbreak of anger? Hush! Not a word more +now! Here is the lady herself." + +As he spoke, Mrs. Vimpany joined them; returning from her interview +with her husband at the inn. She looked first at Iris, and at once +perceived signs of disturbance in the young lady's face. + +Concealing her anxiety under that wonderful stage smile, which affords +a refuge to so many secrets, Mrs. Vimpany said a few words excusing her +absence. Miss Henley answered, without the slightest change in her +friendly manner to the doctor's wife. The signs of disturbance were +evidently attributable to some entirely unimportant cause, from Mrs. +Vimpany's point of view. Mr. Mountjoy's discoveries had not been +communicated yet. + +In Hugh's state of mind, there was some irritating influence in the +presence of the mistress of the house, which applied the spur to his +wits. He mischievously proposed submitting to her the question in +dispute between Iris and himself. + +"It is a very simple matter," he said to Mrs. Vimpany. "Miss Henley's +father is anxious that she should return to him, after an estrangement +between them which is happily at an end. Do you think she ought to +allow any accidental engagements to prevent her from going home at +once? If she requests your indulgence, under the circumstances, has she +any reason to anticipate a refusal?" + +Mrs. Vimpany's expressive eyes looked up, with saintly resignation, at +the dirty ceiling--and asked in dumb show what she had done to deserve +the injury implied by a doubt. + +"Mr. Mountjoy," she said sternly, "you insult me by asking the +question."--"Dear Miss Henley," she continued, turning to Iris, _"you_ +will do me justice, I am sure. Am I capable of allowing my own feelings +to stand in the way, when your filial duty is concerned? Leave me, my +sweet friend. Go! I entreat you, go home!" + +She retired up the stage--no, no; she withdrew to the other end of the +room--and burst into the most becoming of all human tears, theatrical +tears. Impulsive Iris hastened to comfort the personification of +self-sacrifice, the model of all that was most unselfish in female +submission. "For shame! for shame!" she whispered, as she passed +Mountjoy. + +Beaten again by Mrs. Vimpany--with no ties of relationship to justify +resistance to Miss Henley; with two women against him, entrenched +behind the privileges of their sex--the one last sacrifice of his own +feelings, in the interests of Iris, that Hugh could make was to control +the impulse which naturally urged him to leave the house. In the +helpless position in which he had now placed himself, he could only +wait to see what course Mrs. Vimpany might think it desirable to take. +Would she request him, in her most politely malicious way, to bring his +visit to an end? No: she looked at him--hesitated--directed a furtive +glance towards the view of the street from the window--smiled +mysteriously--and completed the sacrifice of her own feelings in these +words: + +"Dear Miss Henley, let me help you to pack up." + +Iris positively refused. + +"No," she said, "I don't agree with Mr. Mountjoy. My father leaves it +to me to name the day when we meet. I hold you, my dear, to our +engagement--I don't leave an affectionate friend as I might leave a +stranger." + +Even if Mr. Mountjoy communicated his discoveries to Miss Henley, on +the way home, there would be no danger now of her believing him. Mrs. +Vimpany put her powerful arm round the generous Iris, and, with +infinite grace, thanked her by a kiss. + +"Your kindness will make my lonely lot in life harder than ever to +bear," she murmured, "when you are gone." + +"But we may hope to meet in London," Iris reminded her; "unless Mr. +Vimpany alters his mind about leaving this place." + +"My husband will not do that, dear. He is determined to try his luck, +as he says, in London. In the meantime you will give me your address, +won't you? Perhaps you will even promise to write to me?" + +Iris instantly gave her promise, and wrote down her address in London. + +Mountjoy made no attempt to interfere: it was needless. + +If the maid had not fallen ill on the journey, and if Mrs. Vimpany had +followed Miss Henley to London, there would have been little to fear in +the discovery of her address--and there was little to fear now. The +danger to Iris was not in what might happen while she was living under +her father's roof, but in what might happen if she was detained (by +plans for excursions) in Mr. Vimpany's house, until Lord Harry might +join her there. + +Rather than permit this to happen, Hugh (in sheer desperation) +meditated charging Mrs. Vimpany, to her face, with being the Irish +lord's spy, and proving the accusation by challenging her to produce +the registered letter and the diamond pin. + +While he was still struggling with his own reluctance to inflict this +degrading exposure on a woman, the talk between the two ladies came to +an end. Mrs. Vimpany returned again to the window. On this occasion, +she looked out into the street--with her handkerchief (was it used as a +signal?) exhibited in her hand. Iris, on her side, advanced to +Mountjoy. Easily moved to anger, her nature was incapable of sullen +perseverance in a state of enmity. To see Hugh still patiently +waiting--still risking the chances of insult--devoted to her, and +forgiving her--was at once a reproach that punished Iris, and a mute +appeal that no true woman's heart could resist. + +With tears in her eyes she said to him: "There must be no coolness +between you and me. I lost my temper, and spoke shamefully to you. My +dear, I am indeed sorry for it. You are never hard on me--you won't be +hard on me now?" + +She offered her hand to him. He had just raised it to his lips--when +the drawing-room door was roughly opened. They both looked round. + +The man of all others whom Hugh least desired to see was the man who +now entered the room. The victim of "light claret"--privately directed +to lurk in the street, until he saw a handkerchief fluttering at the +window--had returned to the house; primed with his clever wife's +instructions; ready and eager to be even with Mountjoy for the dinner +at the inn. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +MR. VIMPANY ON INTOXICATION + +THERE was no unsteadiness in the doctor's walk, and no flush on his +face. He certainly did strut when he entered the room; and he held up +his head with dignity, when he discovered Mountjoy. But he seemed to +preserve his self-control. Was the man sober again already? + +His wife approached him with her set smile; the appearance of her lord +and master filled Mrs. Vimpany with perfectly-assumed emotions of +agreeable surprise. + +"This is an unexpected pleasure," she said. "You seldom favour us with +your company, my dear, so early in the evening! Are there fewer +patients in want of your advice than usual?" + +"You are mistaken, Arabella. I am here in the performance of a painful +duty." + +The doctor's language, and the doctor's manner, presented him to Iris +in a character that was new to her. What effect had he produced on Mrs. +Vimpany? That excellent friend to travellers in distress lowered her +eyes to the floor, and modestly preserved silence. Mr. Vimpany +proceeded to the performance of his duty; his painful responsibility +seemed to strike him at first from a medical point of view. + +"If there is a poison which undermines the sources of life," he +remarked, "it is alcohol. If there is a vice that degrades humanity, it +is intoxication. Mr. Mountjoy, are you aware that I am looking at you?" + +"Impossible not to be aware of that," Hugh answered. "May I ask why you +are looking at me?" It was not easy to listen gravely to Mr. Vimpany's +denunciation of intemperance, after what had taken place at the dinner +of that day. Hugh smiled. The moral majesty of the doctor entered its +protest. + +"This is really shameful," he said. "The least you can do is to take it +seriously." + +"What is it?" Mountjoy asked. "And why am I to take it seriously?" + +Mr. Vimpany's reply was, to say the least of it, indirect. If such an +expression may be permitted, it smelt of the stage. Viewed in +connection with Mrs. Vimpany's persistent assumption of silent +humility, it suggested to Mountjoy a secret understanding, of some +kind, between husband and wife. + +"What has become of your conscience, sir?" Mr. Vimpany demanded. "Is +that silent monitor dead within you? After giving me a bad dinner, do +you demand an explanation? Ha! you shall have it." + +Having delivered himself to this effect, he added action to words. +Walking grandly to the door, he threw it open, and saluted Mountjoy +with an ironical bow. Iris observed that act of insolence; her colour +rose, her eyes glittered. "Do you see what he has just done?" she said +to Mrs. Vimpany. + +The doctor's wife answered softly: "I don't understand it." After a +glance at her husband, she took Iris by the hand: "Dear Miss Henley, +shall we retire to my room?" + +Iris drew her hand away. "Not unless Mr. Mountjoy wishes it," she said. + +"Certainly not!" Hugh declared. "Pray remain here; your presence will +help me to keep my temper." He stepped up to Mr. Vimpany. "Have you any +particular reason for opening that door?" he asked. + +The doctor was a rascal; but, to do him justice, he was no coward. +"Yes," he said, "I have a reason." + +"What is it, if you please?" + +"Christian forbearance," Mr. Vimpany answered. + +"Forbearance towards me?" Mountjoy continued. + +The doctor's dignity suddenly deserted him. + +"Aha, my boy, you have got it at last!" he cried. "It's pleasant to +understand each other, isn't it? You see, I'm a plain-spoken fellow; I +don't wish to give offence. If there's one thing more than another I +pride myself on, it's my indulgence for human frailty. But, in my +position here, I'm obliged to be careful. Upon my soul, I can't +continue my acquaintance with a man who--oh, come! come! don't look as +if you didn't understand me. The circumstances are against you, sir. +You have treated me infamously." + +"Under what circumstances have I treated you infamously?" Hugh asked. + +"Under pretence of giving me a dinner," Mr. Vimpany shouted--"the worst +dinner I ever sat down to!" + +His wife signed to him to be silent. He took no notice of her. She +insisted on being understood. "Say no more!" she warned him, in a tone +of command. + +The brute side of his nature, roused by Mountjoy's contemptuous +composure, was forcing its way outwards; he set his wife at defiance. + +"Then don't let him look at me as if he thought I was in a state of +intoxication!" cried the furious doctor. "There's the man, Miss, who +tried to make me tipsy," he went on, actually addressing himself to +Iris. "Thanks to my habits of sobriety, he has been caught in his own +trap. _He's_ intoxicated. Ha, friend Mountjoy, have you got the right +explanation at last? There's the door, sir!" + +Mrs. Vimpany felt that this outrage was beyond endurance. If something +was not done to atone for it, Miss Henley would be capable--her face, +at that moment, answered for her--of leaving the house with Mr. +Mountjoy. Mrs. Vimpany seized her husband indignantly by the arm. + +"You brute, you have spoilt everything!" she said to him. "Apologise +directly to Mr. Mountjoy. You won't?" + +"I won't!" + +Experience had taught his wife how to break him to her will. "Do you +remember my diamond pin?" she whispered. + +He looked startled. Perhaps he thought she had lost the pin. + +"Where is it?" he asked eagerly. + +"Gone to London to be valued. Beg Mr. Mountjoy's pardon, or I will put +the money in the bank--and not one shilling of it do you get." + +In the meanwhile, Iris had justified Mrs. Vimpany's apprehensions. Her +indignation noticed nothing but the insult offered to Hugh. She was too +seriously agitated to be able to speak to him. Still admirably calm, +his one anxiety was to compose her. + +"Don't be afraid," he said; "it is impossible that I can degrade myself +by quarrelling with Mr. Vimpany. I only wait here to know what you +propose to do. You have Mrs. Vimpany to think of." + +"I have nobody to think of but You," Iris replied. "But for me, you +would never have been in this house. After the insult that has been +offered to you--oh, Hugh, I feel it too!--let us return to London +together. I have only to tell Rhoda we are going away, and to make my +preparations for travelling. Send for me from the inn, and I will be +ready in time for the next train." + +Mrs. Vimpany approached Mountjoy, leading her husband. + +"Sorry I have offended you," the doctor said. "Beg your pardon. It's +only a joke. No offence, I hope?" + +His servility was less endurable than his insolence. Telling him that +he need say no more, Mountjoy bowed to Mrs. Vimpany, and left the room. +She returned his bow mechanically, in silence. Mr. Vimpany followed +Hugh out--thinking of the diamond pin, and eager to open the house +door, as another act of submission which might satisfy his wife. + +Even a clever woman will occasionally make mistakes; especially when +her temper happens to have been roused. Mrs. Vimpany found herself in a +false position, due entirely to her own imprudence. + +She had been guilty of three serious errors. In the first place she had +taken it for granted that Mr. Vimpany's restorative mixture would +completely revive the sober state of his brains. In the second place, +she had trusted him with her vengeance on the man who had found his way +to her secrets through her husband's intemperance. In the third place, +she had rashly assumed that the doctor, in carrying out her +instructions for insulting Mountjoy, would keep within the limits which +she had prescribed to him, when she hit on the audacious idea of +attributing his disgraceful conduct to the temptation offered by his +host's example. As a consequence of these acts of imprudence, she had +exposed herself to a misfortune that she honestly dreaded--the loss of +the place which she had carefully maintained in Miss Henley's +estimation. In the contradictory confusion of feelings, so often found +in women, this deceitful and dangerous creature had been +conquered--little by little, as she had herself described it--by that +charm of sweetness and simplicity in Iris, of which her own depraved +nature presented no trace. She now spoke with hesitation, almost with +timidity, in addressing the woman whom she had so cleverly deceived, at +the time when they first met. + +"Must I give up all, Miss Henley, that I most value?" she asked. + +"I hardly understand you, Mrs. Vimpany." + +"I will try to make it plainer. Do you really mean to leave me this +evening?" + +"I do." + +"May I own that I am grieved to hear it? Your departure will deprive me +of some happy hours, in your company." + +"Your husband's conduct leaves me no alternative," Iris replied. + +"Pray do not humiliate me by speaking of my husband! I only want to +know if there is a harder trial of my fortitude still to come. Must I +lose the privilege of being your friend?" + +"I hope I am not capable of such injustice as that," Iris declared. "It +would be hard indeed to lay the blame of Mr. Vimpany's shameful +behaviour on you. I don't forget that you made him offer an apology. +Some women, married to such a man as that, might have been afraid of +him. No, no; you have been a good friend to me--and I mean to remember +it." + +Mrs. Vimpany's gratitude was too sincerely felt to be expressed with +her customary readiness. She only said what the stupidest woman in +existence could have said: "Thank you." + +In the silence that followed, the rapid movement of carriage wheels +became audible in the street. The sound stopped at the door of the +doctor's house. + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE MOCKERY OF DECEIT + +HAD Mountjoy arrived to take Iris away, before her preparations for +travelling were complete? Both the ladies hurried to the window, but +they were too late. The rapid visitor, already hidden from them under +the portico, was knocking smartly at the door. In another minute, a +man's voice in the hall asked for "Miss Henley." The tones--clear, +mellow, and pleasantly varied here and there by the Irish accent--were +not to be mistaken by any one who had already hear them. The man in the +hall was Lord Harry. + +In that serious emergency, Mrs. Vimpany recovered her presence of mind. + +She made for the door, with the object of speaking to Lord Harry before +he could present himself in the drawing-room. But Iris had heard him +ask for her in the hall; and that one circumstance instantly stripped +of its concealments the character of the woman in whose integrity she +had believed. Her first impression of Mrs. Vimpany--so sincerely +repented, so eagerly atoned for--had been the right impression after +all! Younger, lighter, and quicker than the doctor's wife, Iris reached +the door first, and laid her hand on the lock. + +"Wait a minute," she said. + +Mrs. Vimpany hesitated. For the first time in her life at a loss what +to say, she could only sign to Iris to stand back. Iris refused to +move. She put her terrible question in the plainest words: + +"How does Lord Harry know that I am in this house?" + +The wretched woman (listening intently for the sound of a step on the +stairs) refused to submit to a shameful exposure, even now. To her +perverted moral sense, any falsehood was acceptable, as a means of +hiding herself from discovery by Iris. In the very face of detection, +the skilled deceiver kept up the mockery of deceit. + +"My dear," she said, "what has come to you? Why won't you let me go to +my room?" + +Iris eyed her with a look of scornful surprise. "What next?" she said. +"Are you impudent enough to pretend that I have not found you out, +yet?" + +Sheer desperation still sustained Mrs. Vimpany's courage. She played +her assumed character against the contemptuous incredulity of Iris, as +she had sometimes played her theatrical characters against the hissing +and hooting of a brutal audience. + +"Miss Henley," she said, "you forget yourself!" + +"Do you think I didn't see in your face," Iris rejoined, "that you +heard him, too? Answer my question." + +"What question?" + +"You have just heard it." + +"No!" + +"You false woman!" + +"Don't forget, Miss Henley, that you are speaking to a lady." + +"I am speaking to Lord Harry's spy!" + +Their voices rose loud; the excitement on either side had reached its +climax; neither the one nor the other was composed enough to notice the +sound of the carriage-wheels, leaving the house again. In the +meanwhile, nobody came to the drawing-room door. Mrs. Vimpany was too +well acquainted with the hot-headed Irish lord not to conclude that he +would have made himself heard, and would have found his way to Iris, +but for some obstacle, below stairs, for which he was not prepared. The +doctor's wife did justice to the doctor at last. Another person had, in +all probability, heard Lord Harry's voice--and that person might have +been her husband. + +Was it possible that he remembered the service which she had asked of +him; and, even if he had succeeded in calling it to mind, was his +discretion to be trusted? As those questions occurred to her, the +desire to obtain some positive information was more than she was able +to resist. Mrs. Vimpany attempted to leave the drawing-room for the +second time. + +But the same motive had already urged Miss Henley to action. Again, the +younger woman outstripped the older. Iris descended the stairs, +resolved to discover the cause of the sudden suspension of events in +the lower part of the house. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +MRS. VIMPANY'S FAREWELL + +THE doctor's wife followed Miss Henley out of the room, as far as the +landing--and waited there. + +She had her reasons for placing this restraint on herself. The position +of the landing concealed her from the view of a person in the hall. If +she only listened for the sound of voices she might safely discover +whether Lord Harry was, or was not, still in the house. In the first +event, it would be easy to interrupt his interview with Iris, before +the talk could lead to disclosures which Mrs. Vimpany had every reason +to dread. In the second event, there would be no need to show herself. + +Meanwhile, Iris opened the dining-room door and looked in. + +Nobody was there. The one other room on the ground floor, situated at +the back of the building, was the doctor's consulting-room. She knocked +at the door. Mr. Vimpany's voice answered: "Come in." There he was +alone, drinking brandy and water, and smoking his big black cigar. + +"Where is Lord Harry?" she said. + +"In Ireland, I suppose," Mr. Vimpany answered quietly. + +Iris wasted no time in making useless inquiries. She closed the door +again, and left him. He, too, was undoubtedly in the conspiracy to keep +her deceived. How had it been done? Where was the wild lord, at that +moment? + +Whilst she was pursuing these reflections in the hall, Rhoda came up +from the servants' tea-table in the kitchen. Her mistress gave her the +necessary instructions for packing, and promised to help her before +long. Mrs. Vimpany's audacious resolution to dispute the evidence of +her own senses, still dwelt on Miss Henley's mind. Too angry to think +of the embarrassment which an interview with Lord Harry would produce, +after they had said their farewell words in Ireland, she was determined +to prevent the doctor's wife from speaking to him first, and claiming +him as an accomplice in her impudent denial of the truth. If he had +been, by any chance, deluded into leaving the house, he would sooner or +later discover the trick that had been played on him, and would +certainly return. Iris took a chair in the hall. + + * * * * * * * + +It is due to the doctor to relate that he had indeed justified his +wife's confidence in him. + +The diamond pin, undergoing valuation in London, still represented a +present terror in his mind. The money, the money--he was the most +attentive husband in England when he thought of the money! At the time +when Lord Harry's carriage stopped at his house-door, he was in the +dining-room, taking a bottle of brandy from the cellaret in the +sideboard. Looking instantly out of the window, he discovered who the +visitor was, and decided on consulting his instructions in the +pocket-diary. The attempt was rendered useless, as soon as he had +opened the book, by the unlucky activity of the servant in answering +the door. Her master stopped her in the hall. He was pleasantly +conscious of the recovery of his cunning. But his memory (far from +active under the most favourable circumstances) was slower than ever at +helping him now. On the spur of the moment he could only call to mind +that he had been ordered to prevent a meeting between Lord Harry and +Iris. "Show the gentleman into my consulting-room," he said. + +Lord Harry found the doctor enthroned on his professional chair, +surprised and delighted to see his distinguished friend. The impetuous +Irishman at once asked for Miss Henley. + +"Gone," Mr. Vimpany answered + +"Gone--where?" the wild lord wanted to know next. + +"To London." + +"By herself?" + +"No; with Mr. Hugh Mountjoy." + +Lord Harry seized the doctor by the shoulders, and shook him: "You +don't mean to tell me Mountjoy is going to marry her?" + +Mr. Vimpany feared nothing but the loss of money. The weaker and the +older man of the two, he nevertheless followed the young lord's +example, and shook him with right good-will. "Let's see how you like it +in your turn," he said. "As for Mountjoy, I don't know whether he is +married or single--and don't care." + +"The devil take your obstinacy! When did they start?" + +"The devil take your questions! They started not long since." + +"Might I catch them at the station?" + +"Yes; if you go at once." + +So the desperate doctor carried out his wife's instructions--without +remembering the conditions which had accompanied them. + +The way to the station took Lord Harry past the inn. He saw Hugh +Mountjoy through the open house door paying his bill at the bar. In an +instant the carriage was stopped, and the two men (never on friendly +terms) were formally bowing to each other. + +"I was told I should find you," Lord Harry said, "with Miss Henley, at +the station." + +"Who gave you your information?" + +"Vimpany--the doctor." + +"He ought to know that the train isn't due at the station for an hour +yet." + +"Has the blackguard deceived me? One word more, Mr. Mountjoy. Is Miss +Henley at the inn?" + +"No." + +"Are you going with her to London?" + +"I must leave Miss Henley to answer that." + +"Where is she, sir?" + +"There is an end to everything, my lord, in the world we live in. You +have reached the end of my readiness to answer questions." The +Englishman and the Irishman looked at each other: the Anglo-Saxon was +impenetrably cool; the Celt was flushed and angry. They might have been +on the brink of a quarrel, but for Lord Harry's native quickness of +perception, and his exercise of it at that moment. When he had called +at Mr. Vimpany's house, and had asked for Iris, the doctor had got rid +of him by means of a lie. After this discovery, at what conclusion +could he arrive? The doctor was certainly keeping Iris out of his way. +Reasoning in this rapid manner, Lord Harry let one offence pass, in his +headlong eagerness to resent another. He instantly left Mountjoy. Again +the carriage rattled back along the street; but it was stopped before +it reached Mr. Vimpany's door. + +Lord Harry knew the people whom he had to deal with, and took measures +to approach the house silently, on foot. The coachman received orders +to look out for a signal, which should tell him when he was wanted +again. + +Mr. Vimpany's ears, vigilantly on the watch for suspicious events, +detected no sound of carriage wheels and no noisy use of the knocker. +Still on his guard, however, a ring at the house-bell disturbed him in +his consulting-room. Peeping into the hall, he saw Iris opening the +door, and stole back to his room. "The devil take her!" he said, +alluding to Miss Henley, and thinking of the enviable proprietor of the +diamond pin. + +At the unexpected appearance of Iris, Lord Harry forgot every +consideration which ought to have been present to his mind, at that +critical moment. + +He advanced to her with both hands held out in cordial greeting. She +signed to him contemptuously to stand back--and spoke in tones +cautiously lowered, after a glance at the door of the consulting-room. + +"My only reason for consenting to see you," she said, "is to protect +myself from further deception. Your disgraceful conduct is known to me. +Go now," she continued, pointing to the stairs, "and consult with your +spy, as soon as you like." The Irish lord listened--guiltily conscious +of having deserved what she had said to him--without attempting to +utter a word in excuse. + +Still posted at the head of the stairs, the doctor's wife heard Iris +speaking; but the tone was not loud enough to make the words +intelligible at that distance; neither was any other voice audible in +reply. Vaguely suspicions of some act of domestic treachery, Mrs. +Vimpany began to descend the stairs. At the turning which gave her a +view of the hall, she stopped; thunderstruck by the discovery of Lord +Harry and Miss Henley, together. + +The presence of a third person seemed, in some degree, to relieve Lord +Harry. He ran upstairs to salute Mrs. Vimpany, and was met again by a +cold reception and a hostile look. + +Strongly and strangely contrasted, the two confronted each other on the +stairs. The faded woman, wan and ghastly under cruel stress of mental +suffering, stood face to face with a fine, tall, lithe man, in the +prime of his health and strength. Here were the bright blue eyes, the +winning smile, and the natural grace of movement, which find their own +way to favour in the estimation of the gentler sex. This irreclaimable +wanderer among the perilous by-ways of the earth--christened "Irish +blackguard," among respectable members of society, when they spoke of +him behind his back--attracted attention, even among the men. Looking +at his daring, finely-formed face, they noticed (as an exception to a +general rule, in these days) the total suppression, by the razor, of +whiskers, moustache, and beard. Strangers wondered whether Lord Harry +was an actor or a Roman Catholic priest. Among chance acquaintances, +those few favourites of Nature who are possessed of active brains, +guessed that his life of adventure might well have rendered disguise +necessary to his safety, in more than one part of the world. Sometimes +they boldly put the question to him. The hot temper of an Irishman, in +moments of excitement, is not infrequently a sweet temper in moments of +calm. What they called Lord Harry's good-nature owned readily that he +had been indebted, on certain occasions, to the protection of a false +beard, And perhaps a colouring of his face and hair to match. The same +easy disposition now asserted itself, under the merciless enmity of +Mrs. Vimpany's eyes. "If I have done anything to offend you," he said, +with an air of puzzled humility, "I'm sure I am sorry for it. Don't be +angry, Arabella, with an old friend. Why won't you shake hands?" + +"I have kept your secret, and done your dirty work," Mrs. Vimpany +replied. "And what is my reward? Miss Henley can tell you how your +Irish blundering has ruined me in a lady's estimation. Shake hands, +indeed! You will never shake hands with Me again as long as you live!" + +She said those words without looking at him; her eyes were resting on +Iris now. From the moment when she had seen the two together, she knew +that it was all over; further denial in the face of plain proofs would +be useless indeed! Submission was the one alternative left. + +"Miss Henley," she said, "if you can feel pity for another woman's +sorrow and shame, let me have a last word with you--out of this man's +hearing." + +There was nothing artificial in her tones or her looks; no acting could +have imitated the sad sincerity with which she spoke. Touched by that +change, Iris accompanied her as she ascended the stairs. After a little +hesitation, Lord Harry followed them. Mrs. Vimpany turned on him when +they reached the drawing-room landing. "Must I shut the door in your +face?" she asked. + +He was as pleasantly patient as ever: + +"You needn't take the trouble to do that, my dear; I'll only ask your +leave to sit down and wait on the stairs. When you have done with Miss +Henley, just call me in. And, by the way, don't be alarmed in case of a +little noise--say a heavy man tumbling downstairs. If the blackguard +it's your misfortune to be married to happens to show himself, I shall +be under the necessity of kicking him. That's all." + +Mrs. Vimpany closed the door. She spoke to Iris respectfully, as she +might have addressed a stranger occupying a higher rank in life than +herself. + +"There is an end, madam, to one short acquaintance; and, as we both +know, an end to it for ever. When we first met--let me tell the truth +at last!--I felt a malicious pleasure in deceiving you. After that +time, I was surprised to find that you grew on my liking, Can you +understand the wickedness that tried to resist you? It was useless; +your good influence has been too strong for me. Strange, isn't it? I +have lived a life of deceit, among bad people. What could you expect of +me, after that? I heaped lies on lies--I would have denied that the sun +was in the heavens--rather than find myself degraded in your opinion. +Well! that is all over--useless, quite useless now. Pray don't mistake +me. I am not attempting to excuse myself; a confession was due to you; +the confession is made. It is too late to hope that you will forgive +me. If you will permit it, I have only one favour to ask. Forget me." + +She turned away with a last hopeless look, who said as plainly as if in +words: "I am not worth a reply." + +Generous Iris insisted on speaking to her. + +"I believe you are truly sorry for what you have done," she said; "I +can never forget that--I can never forget You." She held out her +pitying hand. Mrs. Vimpany was too bitterly conscious of the past to +touch it. Even a spy is not beneath the universal reach of the +heartache. There were tears in the miserable woman's eyes when she had +looked her last at Iris Henley. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +LORD HARRY's DEFENCE + +AFTER a short interval, the drawing-room door was opened again. Waiting +on the threshold, the Irish lord asked if he might come in. + +Iris replied coldly. "This is not my house," she said; "I must leave +you to decide for yourself." + +Lord Harry crossed the room to speak to her and stopped. There was no +sign of relenting towards him in that dearly-loved face. "I wonder +whether it would be a relief to you," he suggested with piteous +humility, "if I went away?" + +If she had been true to herself, she would have said, Yes. Where is the +woman to be found, in her place, with a heart hard enough to have set +her that example? She pointed to a chair. He felt her indulgence +gratefully. Following the impulse of the moment, he attempted to excuse +his conduct. + +"There is only one thing I can say for myself," he confessed, "I didn't +begin by deceiving you. While you had your eye on me, Iris, I was an +honourable man." + +This extraordinary defence reduced her to silence. Was there another +man in the world who would have pleaded for pardon in that way? "I'm +afraid I have not made myself understood," he said. "May I try again?" + +"If you please." + +The vagabond nobleman made a resolute effort to explain himself +intelligibly, this time: + +"See now! We said good-bye, over there, in the poor old island. Well, +indeed I meant it, when I owned that I was unworthy of you. _I_ didn't +contradict you, when you said you could never be my wife, after such a +life as I have led. And, do remember, I submitted to your returning to +England, without presuming to make a complaint. Ah, my sweet girl, it +was easy to submit, while I could look at you, and hear the sound of +your voice, and beg for that last kiss--and get it. Reverend gentlemen +talk about the fall of Adam. What was that to the fall of Harry, when +he was back in his own little cottage, without the hope of ever seeing +you again? To the best of my recollection, the serpent that tempted Eve +was up a tree. I found the serpent that tempted Me, sitting waiting in +my own armchair, and bent on nothing worse than borrowing a trifle of +money. Need I say who she was? I don't doubt that you think her a +wicked woman." + +Never ready in speaking of acts of kindness, on her own part, Iris +answered with some little reserve: "I have learnt to think better of +Mrs. Vimpany than you suppose." + +Lord Harry began to look like a happy man, for the first time since he +had entered the room. + +"I ought to have known it!" he burst out. "Yours is the well-balanced +mind, dear, that tempers justice with mercy. Mother Vimpany has had a +hard life of it. Just change places with her for a minute or so--and +you'll understand what she has had to go through. Find yourself, for +instance, in Ireland, without the means to take you back to England. +Add to that, a husband who sends you away to make money for him at the +theatre, and a manager (not an Irishman, thank God!) who refuses to +engage you--after your acting has filled his dirty pockets in past +days--because your beauty has faded with time. Doesn't your bright +imagination see it all now? My old friend Arabella, ready and anxious +to serve me--and a sinking at this poor fellow's heart when he knew, if +he once lost the trace of you, he might lose it for ever--there's the +situation, as they call it on the stage. I wish I could say for myself +what I may say for Mrs. Vimpany. It's such a pleasure to a clever woman +to engage in a little deceit--we can't blame her, can we?" + +Iris protested gently against a code of morality which included the +right of deceit among the privileges of the sex. Lord Harry slipped +through her fingers with the admirable Irish readiness; he agreed with +Miss Henley that he was entirely wrong. + +"And don't spare me while you're about it," he suggested. "Lay all the +blame of that shameful stratagem on my shoulders. It was a despicable +thing to do. When I had you watched, I acted in a manner--I won't say +unworthy of a gentleman; have I been a gentleman since I first ran away +from home? Why, it's even been said my way of speaking is no longer the +way of a gentleman; and small wonder, too, after the company I've kept. +Ah, well! I'm off again, darling, on a sea voyage. Will you forgive me +now? or will you wait till I come back, if I do come back? God knows!" +He dropped on his knees, and kissed her hand. "Anyway," he said, +"whether I live or whether I die, it will be some consolation to +remember that I asked your pardon--and perhaps got it." + +"Take it, Harry; I can't help forgiving you!" + +She had done her best to resist him, and she had answered in those +merciful words. + +The effect was visible, perilously visible, as he rose from his knees. +Her one chance of keeping the distance between them, on which she had +been too weak to insist, was not to encourage him by silence. Abruptly, +desperately, she made a commonplace inquiry about his proposed voyage. +"Tell me," she resumed, "where are you going when you leave England?" + +"Oh, to find money, dear, if I can--to pick up diamonds, or to hit on a +mine of gold, and so forth." + +The fine observation of Iris detected something not quite easy in his +manner, as he made that reply. He tried to change the subject: she +deliberately returned to it. "Your account of your travelling plans is +rather vague," she told him. "Do you know when you are likely to +return?" + +He took her hand. One of the rings on her fingers happened to be turned +the wrong way. He set it in the right position, and discovered an opal. +"Ah! the unlucky stone!" he cried, and turned it back again out of +sight. She drew away her hand. "I asked you," she persisted, "when you +expect to return?" + +He laughed--not so gaily as usual. + +"How do I know I shall ever get back?" he answered. "Sometimes the seas +turn traitor, and sometimes the savages. I have had so many narrow +escapes of my life, I can't expect my luck to last for ever." He made a +second attempt to change the subject. "I wonder whether you're likely +to pay another visit to Ireland? My cottage is entirely at your +disposal, Iris dear. Oh, when I'm out of the way, of course! The place +seemed to please your fancy, when you saw it. You will find it well +taken care of, I answer for that." + +Iris asked who was taking care of his cottage. + +The wild lord's face saddened. He hesitated; rose from his chair +restlessly, and walked away to the window; returned, and made up his +mind to reply. + +"My dear, you know her. She was the old housekeeper at--" + +His voice failed him. He was unable, or unwilling, to pronounce the +name of Arthur's farm. + +Knowing, it is needless to say, that he had alluded to Mrs. Lewson, +Iris warmly commended him for taking care of her old nurse. At the same +time, she remembered the unfriendly terms in which the housekeeper had +alluded to Lord Harry, when they had talked of him. + +"Did you find no difficulty," she asked, "in persuading Mrs. Lewson to +enter your service?" + +"Oh, yes, plenty of difficulty; I found my bad character in my way, as +usual." It was a relief to him, at that moment, to talk of Mrs. Lewson; +the Irish humour and the Irish accent both asserted themselves in his +reply. "The curious old creature told me to my face I was a scamp. I +took leave to remind her that it was the duty of a respectable person, +like herself, to reform scamps; I also mentioned that I was going away, +and she would be master and mistress too on my small property. That +softened her heart towards me. You will mostly find old women amenable, +if you get at them by way of their dignity. Besides, there was another +lucky circumstance that helped me. The neighbourhood of my cottage has +some attraction for Mrs. Lewson. She didn't say particularly what it +was--and I never asked her to tell me." + +"Surely you might have guessed it, without being told," Iris reminded +him. "Mrs. Lewson's faithful heart loves poor Arthur's memory--and +Arthur's grave is not far from your cottage." + +"Don't speak of him!" + +It was said loudly, peremptorily, passionately. He looked at her with +angry astonishment in his face. "You loved him too!" he said. "Can you +speak of him quietly? The noblest, truest, sweetest man that ever the +Heavens looked on, foully assassinated. And the wretch who murdered him +still living, free--oh, what is God's providence about?--is there no +retribution that will follow him? no just hand that will revenge +Arthur's death?" + +As those fierce words escaped him, he was no longer the easy, gentle, +joyous creature whom Iris had known and loved. The furious passions of +the Celtic race glittered savagely in his eyes, and changed to a grey +horrid pallor the healthy colour that was natural to his face. "Oh, my +temper, my temper!" he cried, as Iris shrank from him. "She hates me +now, and no wonder." He staggered away from her, and burst into a +convulsive fit of crying, dreadful to hear. Compassion, divine +compassion, mastered the earthlier emotion of terror in the great heart +of the woman who loved him. She followed him, and laid her hand +caressingly on his shoulder. "I don't hate you, my dear," she said. "I +am sorry for Arthur--and, oh, so sorry for You!" He caught her in his +arms. His gratitude, his repentance, his silent farewell were all +expressed in a last kiss. It was a moment, never to be forgotten to the +end of their lives. Before she could speak, before she could think, he +had left her. + +She called him back, through the open door. He never returned; he never +even replied. She ran to the window, and threw it up--and was just in +time to see him signal to the carriage and leap into it. Her horror of +the fatal purpose that was but too plainly rooted in him--her +conviction that he was on the track of the assassin, self devoted to +exact the terrible penalty of blood for blood--emboldened her to insist +on being heard. "Come back," she cried. "I must, I will, speak with +you." + +He waved his hand to her with a gesture of despair. "Start your +horses," he shouted to the coachman. Alarmed by his voice and his look, +the man asked where he should drive to. Lord Harry pointed furiously to +the onward road. "Drive," he answered, "to the Devil!" + +THE END OF THE FIRST PERIOD + + +THE SECOND PERIOD + +CHAPTER XIII + +IRIS AT HOME + +A LITTLE more than four months had passed, since the return of Iris to +her father's house. + +Among other events which occurred, during the earlier part of that +interval, the course adopted by Hugh Mountjoy, when Miss Henley's +suspicions of the Irish lord were first communicated to him, claims a +foremost place. + +It was impossible that the devoted friend of Iris could look at her, +when they met again on their way to the station, without perceiving the +signs of serious agitation. Only waiting until they were alone in the +railway-carriage, she opened her heart unreservedly to the man in whose +clear intellect and true sympathy she could repose implicit trust. He +listened to what she could repeat of Lord Harry's language with but +little appearance of surprise. Iris had only reminded him of one, among +the disclosures which had escaped Mr. Vimpany at the inn. Under the +irresistible influence of good wine, the doctor had revealed the Irish +lord's motive for remaining in his own country, after the assassination +of Arthur Mountjoy. Hugh met the only difficulty in his way, without +shrinking from it. He resolved to clear his mind of its natural +prejudice against the rival who had been preferred to him, before he +assumed the responsibility of guiding Iris by his advice. + +When he had in some degree recovered confidence in his own unbiased +judgment, he entered on the question of Lord Harry's purpose in leaving +England. + +Without attempting to dispute the conclusion at which Iris had arrived, +he did his best to alleviate her distress. In his opinion, he was +careful to tell her, a discovery of the destination to which Lord Harry +proposed to betake himself, might be achieved. The Irish lord's +allusion to a new adventure, which would occupy him in searching for +diamonds or gold, might indicate a contemplated pursuit of the +assassin, as well as a plausible excuse to satisfy Iris. It was at +least possible that the murderer might have been warned of his danger +if he remained in England, and that he might have contemplated +directing his flight to a distant country, which would not only offer a +safe refuge, but also hold out (in its mineral treasures) a hope of +gain. Assuming that these circumstances had really happened, it was in +Lord Harry's character to make sure of his revenge, by embarking in the +steamship by which the assassin of Arthur Mountjoy was a passenger. + +Wild as this guess at the truth undoubtedly was, it had one merit: it +might easily be put to the test. + +Hugh had bought the day's newspaper at the station. He proposed to +consult the shipping advertisements relating, in the first place, to +communication with the diamond-mines and the goldfields of South +Africa. + +This course of proceeding at once informed him that the first steamer, +bound for that destination, would sail from London in two days' time. +The obvious precaution to take was to have the Dock watched; and +Mountjoy's steady old servant, who knew Lord Harry by sight, was the +man to employ. + +Iris naturally inquired what good end could be attained, if the +anticipated discovery actually took place. + +To this Mountjoy answered, that the one hope--a faint hope, he must +needs confess--of inducing Lord Harry to reconsider his desperate +purpose, lay in the influence of Iris herself. She must address a +letter to him, announcing that his secret had been betrayed by his own +language and conduct, and declaring that she would never again see him, +or hold any communication with him, if he persisted in his savage +resolution of revenge. Such was the desperate experiment which +Mountjoy's generous and unselfish devotion to Iris now proposed to try. + +The servant (duly entrusted with Miss Henley's letter) was placed on +the watch--and the event which had been regarded as little better than +a forlorn hope, proved to be the event that really took place. Lord +Harry was a passenger by the steamship. + +Mountjoy's man presented the letter entrusted to him, and asked +respectfully if there was any answer. The wild lord read it--looked (to +use the messenger's own words) like a man cut to the heart--seemed at a +loss what to say or do--and only gave a verbal answer: "I sincerely +thank Miss Henley, and I promise to write when the ship touches at +Madeira." The servant continued to watch him when he went on board the +steamer; saw him cast a look backwards, as if suspecting that he might +have been followed; and then lost sight of him in the cabin. The vessel +sailed after a long interval of delay, but he never reappeared on the +deck. + +The ambiguous message sent to her aroused the resentment of Iris; she +thought it cruel. For some weeks perhaps to come, she was condemned to +remain in doubt, and was left to endure the trial of her patience, +without having Mountjoy at hand to encourage and console her. He had +been called away to the south of France by the illness of his father. + +But the fortunes of Miss Henley, at this period of her life, had their +brighter side. She found reason to congratulate herself on the +reconciliation which had brought her back to her father. Mr. Henley had +received her, not perhaps with affection, but certainly with kindness. +"If we don't get in each other's way, we shall do very well; I am glad +to see you again." That was all he had said to her, but it meant much +from a soured and selfish man. + +Her only domestic anxiety was caused by another failure in the health +of her maid. + +The Doctor declared that medical help would be of no avail, while Rhoda +Bennet remained in London. In the country she had been born and bred, +and to the country she must return. Mr. Henley's large landed property, +on the north of London, happened to include a farm in the neighbourhood +of Muswell Hill. Wisely waiting for a favourable opportunity, Iris +alluded to the good qualities which had made Rhoda almost as much her +friend as her servant, and asked leave to remove the invalid to the +healthy air of the farm. + +Her anxiety about the recovery of a servant so astonished Mr. Henley, +that he was hurried (as he afterwards declared) into granting his +daughter's request. After this concession, the necessary arrangements +were easily made. The influence of Iris won the goodwill of the farmer +and his wife; Rhoda, as an expert and willing needlewoman, being sure +of a welcome, for her own sake, in a family which included a number of +young children. Miss Henley had only to order her carriage, and to be +within reach of the farm. A week seldom passed without a meeting +between the mistress and the maid. + +In the meantime, Mountjoy (absent in France) did not forget to write to +Iris. + +His letters offered little hope of a speedy return. The doctors had not +concealed from him that his father's illness would end fatally; but +there were reserves of vital power still left, which might prolong the +struggle. Under these melancholy circumstances, he begged that Iris +would write to him. The oftener she could tell him of the little events +of her life at home, the more kindly she would brighten the days of a +dreary life. + +Eager to show, even in a trifling matter, how gratefully she +appreciated Mountjoy's past kindness, Iris related the simple story of +her life at home, in weekly letters addressed to her good friend. After +telling Hugh (among other things) of Rhoda's establishment at the farm, +she had some unexpected results to relate, which had followed the +attempt to provide herself with a new maid. + +Two young women had been successively engaged--each recommended, by the +lady whom she had last served, with that utter disregard of moral +obligation which appears to be shamelessly on the increase in the +England of our day. The first of the two maids, described as "rather +excitable," revealed infirmities of temper which suggested a lunatic +asylum as the only fit place for her. The second young woman, detected +in stealing eau-de-cologne, and using it (mixed with water) as an +intoxicating drink, claimed merciful construction of her misconduct, on +the ground that she had been misled by the example of her last +mistress. + +At the third attempt to provide herself with a servant, Iris was able +to report the discovery of a responsible person who told the truth--an +unmarried lady of middle age. + +In this case, the young woman was described as a servant thoroughly +trained in the performance of her duties, honest, sober, industrious, +of an even temper, and unprovided with a "follower" in the shape of a +sweetheart. Even her name sounded favourably in the ear of a +stranger--it was Fanny Mere. Iris asked how a servant, apparently +possessed of a faultless character, came to be in want of a situation. +At this question the lady sighed, and acknowledged that she had "made a +dreadful discovery," relating to the past life of her maid. It proved +to be the old, the miserably old, story of a broken promise of +marriage, and of the penalty paid as usual by the unhappy woman. "I +will say nothing of my own feelings," the maiden lady explained. "In +justice to the other female servants, it was impossible for me to keep +such a person in my house; and, in justice to you, I must most +unwillingly stand in the way of Fanny Mere's prospects by mentioning my +reason for parting with her." + +"If I could see the young woman and speak to her," Iris said, "I should +like to decide the question of engaging her, for myself." + +The lady knew the address of her discharged servant, and--with some +appearance of wonder--communicated it. Miss Henley wrote at once, +telling Fanny Mere to come to her on the following day. + +When she woke on the next morning, later than usual, an event occurred +which Iris had been impatiently expecting for some time past. She found +a letter waiting on her bedside table, side by side with her cup of +tea. Lord Harry had written to her at last. + +Whether he used his pen or his tongue, the Irish lord's conduct was +always more or less in need of an apology. Here were the guilty one's +new excuses, expressed in his customary medley of frank confession and +flowery language: + +"I am fearing, my angel, that I have offended you. You have too surely +said to yourself, This miserable Harry might have made me happy by +writing two lines--and what does he do? He sends a message in words +which tell me nothing. + +"My sweet girl, the reason why is that I was in two minds when your man +stopped me on my way to the ship. + +"Whether it was best for you--I was not thinking of myself--to confess +the plain truth, or to take refuge in affectionate equivocation, was +more than I could decide at the time. When minutes are enough for your +intelligence, my stupidity wants days. Well! I saw it at last. A man +owes the truth to a true woman; and you are a true woman. There you +find a process of reasoning--I have been five days getting hold of it. + +"But tell me one thing first. Brutus killed a man; Charlotte Corday +killed a man. One of the two victims was a fine tyrant, and the other a +mean tyrant. Nobody blames those two historical assassins. Why then +blame me for wishing to make a third? Is a mere modern murderer beneath +my vengeance, by comparison with two classical tyrants who did _their_ +murders by deputy? The man who killed Arthur Mountjoy is (next to Cain +alone) the most atrocious homicide that ever trod the miry ways of this +earth. There is my reply! I call it a crusher. + +"So now my mind is easy. Darling, let me make your mind easy next. + +"When I left you at the window of Vimpany's house, I was off to the +other railroad to find the murderer in his hiding-place by the seaside. +He had left it; but I got a trace, and went back to London--to the +Docks. Some villain in Ireland, who knows my purpose, must have turned +traitor. Anyhow, the wretch has escaped me. + +"Yes; I searched the ship in every corner. He was not on board. Has he +gone on before me, by an earlier vessel? Or has he directed his flight +to some other part of the world? I shall find out in time. His day of +reckoning will come, and he, too, shall know a violent death! Amen. So +be it. Amen. + +"Have I done now? Bear with me, gentle Iris--there is a word more to +come. + +"You will wonder why I went on by the steamship--all the way to South +Africa--when I had failed to find the man I wanted, on board. What was +my motive? You, you alone, are always my motive. Lucky men have found +gold, lucky men have found diamonds. Why should I not be one of them? +My sweet, let us suppose two possible things; my own elastic +convictions would call them two likely things, but never mind that. +Say, I come back a reformed character; there is your only objection to +me, at once removed! And take it for granted that I return with a +fortune of my own finding. In that case, what becomes of Mr. Henley's +objection to me? It melts (as Shakespeare says somewhere) into thin +air. Now do take my advice, for once. Show this part of my letter to +your excellent father, with my love. I answer beforehand for the +consequences. Be happy, my Lady Harry--as happy as I am--and look for +my return on an earlier day than you may anticipate. Yours till death, +and after. + +"HARRY." + + +Like the Irish lord, Miss Henley was "in two minds," while she rose, +and dressed herself. There were parts of the letter for which she loved +the writer, and parts of it for which she hated him. + +What a prospect was before that reckless man--what misery, what horror, +might not be lying in wait in the dreadful future! If he failed in the +act of vengeance, that violent death of which he had written so +heedlessly might overtake him from another hand. If he succeeded, the +law might discover his crime, and the infamy of expiation on the +scaffold might be his dreadful end. She turned, shuddering, from the +contemplation of those hideous possibilities, and took refuge in the +hope of his safe, his guiltless return. Even if his visions of success, +even if his purposes of reform (how hopeless at his age!) were actually +realised, could she consent to marry the man who had led his life, had +written this letter, had contemplated (and still cherished) his +merciless resolution of revenge? No woman in her senses could let the +bare idea of being his wife enter her mind. Iris opened her +writing-desk, to hide the letter from all eyes but her own. As she +secured it with the key, her heart sank under the return of a terror +remembered but too well. Once more, the superstitious belief in a +destiny that was urging Lord Harry and herself nearer and nearer to +each other, even when they seemed to be most widely and most surely +separated, thrilled her under the chilling mystery of its presence. She +dropped helplessly into a chair. Oh, for a friend who could feel for +her, who could strengthen her, whose wise words could restore her to +her better and calmer self! Hugh was far away; and Iris was left to +suffer and to struggle alone. + +Heartfelt aspirations for help and sympathy! Oh, irony of +circumstances, how were they answered? The housemaid entered the room, +to announce the arrival of a discharged servant, with a lost character. + +"Let the young woman come in," Iris said. Was Fanny Mere the friend +whom she had been longing for? She looked at her troubled face in the +glass--and laughed bitterly. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE LADY'S MAID + +IT was not easy to form a positive opinion of the young woman who now +presented herself in Miss Henley's room. + +If the Turkish taste is truly reported as valuing beauty in the female +figure more than beauty in the female face, Fanny Mere's personal +appearance might have found, in Constantinople, the approval which she +failed to receive in London. Slim and well balanced, firmly and neatly +made, she interested men who met her by accident (and sometimes even +women), if they happened to be walking behind her. When they quickened +their steps, and, passing on, looked back at her face, they lost all +interest in Fanny from that moment. Painters would have described the +defect in her face as "want of colour." She was one of the whitest of +fair female human beings. Light flaxen hair, faint blue eyes with no +expression in them, and a complexion which looked as if it had never +been stirred by a circulation of blood, produced an effect on her +fellow-creatures in general which made them insensible to the beauty of +her figure, and the grace of her movements. There was no betrayal of +bad health in her strange pallor: on the contrary, she suggested the +idea of rare physical strength. Her quietly respectful manner was, so +to say, emphasised by an underlying self-possession, which looked +capable of acting promptly and fearlessly in the critical emergencies +of life. Otherwise, the expression of character in her face was +essentially passive. Here was a steady, resolute young woman, possessed +of qualities which failed to show themselves on the surface--whether +good qualities or bad qualities experience alone could determine. + +Finding it impossible, judging by a first impression, to arrive at any +immediate decision favourable or adverse to the stranger, Iris opened +the interview with her customary frankness; leaving the consequences to +follow as they might. + +"Take a seat, Fanny," she said, "and let us try if we can understand +each other. I think you will agree with me that there must be no +concealments between us. You ought to know that your mistress has told +me why she parted with you. It was her duty to tell me the truth, and +it is my duty not to be unjustly prejudiced against you after what I +have heard. Pray believe me when I say that I don't know, and don't +wish to know, what your temptation may have been--" + +"I beg your pardon, Miss, for interrupting you. My temptation was +vanity." + +Whether she did or did not suffer in making that confession, it was +impossible to discover. Her tones were quiet; her manner was +unobtrusively respectful; the pallor of her face was not disturbed by +the slightest change of colour. Was the new maid an insensible person? +Iris began to fear already that she might have made a mistake. + +"I don't expect you to enter into particulars," she said; "I don't ask +you here to humiliate yourself." + +"When I got your letter, Miss, I tried to consider how I might show +myself worthy of your kindness," Fanny answered. "The one way I could +see was not to let you think better of me than I deserve. When a +person, like me, is told, for the first time, that her figure makes +amends for her face, she is flattered by the only compliment that has +been paid to her in all her life. My excuse, Miss (if I have an excuse) +is a mean one---I couldn't resist a compliment. That is all I have to +say." + +Iris began to alter her opinion. This was not a young woman of the +ordinary type. It began to look possible, and more than possible, that +she was worthy of a helping hand. The truth seemed to be in her. + +"I understand you, and feel for you." Having replied in those words, +Iris wisely and delicately changed the subject. "Let me hear how you +are situated at the present time," she continued. "Are your parents +living?" + +"My father and mother are dead, Miss." + +"Have you any other relatives?" + +"They are too poor to be able to do anything for me. I have lost my +character--and I am left to help myself." + +"Suppose you fail to find another situation?" Iris suggested. + +"Yes, Miss?" + +"How can you help yourself?" + +"I can do what other girls have done." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Some of us starve on needlework. Some take to the streets. Some end it +in the river. If there is no other chance for me, I think I shall try +that way," said the poor creature, as quietly as if she was speaking of +some customary prospect that was open to her. "There will be nobody to +be sorry for me--and, as I have read, drowning is not a very painful +death." + +"You shock me, Fanny! I, for one, should be sorry for you." + +"Thank you, Miss." + +"And try to remember," Iris continued, "that there may be chances in +the future which you don't see yet. You speak of what you have read, +and I have already noticed how clearly and correctly you express +yourself. You must have been educated. Was it at home? or at school? + +"I was once sent to school," Fanny replied, not quite willingly. + +"Was it a private school?" + +"Yes." + +That short answer warned Iris to be careful. + +"Recollections of school," she said good-humouredly, "are not the +pleasantest recollections in some of our lives. Perhaps I have touched +on a subject which is disagreeable to you?" + +"You have touched on one of my disappointments, Miss. While my mother +lived, she was my teacher. After her death, my father sent me to +school. When he failed in business, I was obliged to leave, just as I +had begun to learn and like it. Besides, the girls found out that I was +going away, because there was no money at home to pay the fees--and +that mortified me. There is more that I might tell you. I have a reason +for hating my recollections of the school--but I mustn't mention that +time in my life which your goodness to me tries to forget." + +All that appealed to her, so simply and so modestly, in that reply, was +not lost on Iris. After an interval of silence, she said: + +"Can you guess what I am thinking of, Fanny?" + +"No, Miss." + +"I am asking myself a question. If I try you in my service shall I +never regret it?" + +For the first time, strong emotion shook Fanny Mere. Her voice failed +her, in the effort to speak. Iris considerately went on. + +"You will take the place," she said, "of a maid who has been with me +for years--a good dear creature who has only left me through +ill-health. I must not expect too much of you; I cannot hope that you +will be to me what Rhoda Bennet has been." + +Fanny succeeded in controlling herself. "Is there any hope," she asked, +"of my seeing Rhoda Bennet?" + +"Why do you wish to see her?" + +"You are fond of her, Miss---that is one reason." + +"And the other?" + +"Rhoda Bennet might help me to serve you as I want to serve you; she +might perhaps encourage me to try if I could follow her example." Fanny +paused, and clasped her hands fervently. The thought that was in her +forced its way to expression. "It's so easy to feel grateful," she +said--"and, oh, so hard to show it!" + +"Come to me," her new mistress answered, "and show it to-morrow." + +Moved by that compassionate impulse, Iris said the words which restored +to an unfortunate creature a lost character and a forfeited place in +the world. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +MR. HENLEY'S TEMPER + +PROVIDED by nature with ironclad constitutional defences against +illness, Mr. Henley was now and then troubled with groundless doubts of +his own state of health. Acting under a delusion of this kind, he +imagined symptoms which rendered a change of residence necessary from +his town house to his country house, a few days only after his daughter +had decided on the engagement of her new maid. + +Iris gladly, even eagerly, adapted her own wishes to the furtherance of +her father's plans. Sorely tried by anxiety and suspense, she needed +all that rest and tranquillity could do for her. The first week in the +country produced an improvement in her health. Enjoying the serene +beauty of woodland and field, breathing the delicious purity of the +air--sometimes cultivating her own corner in the garden, and sometimes +helping the women in the lighter labours of the dairy--her nerves +recovered their tone, and her spirits rose again to their higher level. + +In the performance of her duties the new maid justified Miss Henley's +confidence in her, during the residence of the household in the +country. + +She showed, in her own undemonstrative way, a grateful sense of her +mistress's kindness. Her various occupations were intelligently and +attentively pursued; her even temper never seemed to vary; she gave the +servants no opportunities of complaining of her. But one peculiarity in +her behaviour excited hostile remark, below-stairs. On the occasions +when she was free to go out for the day, she always found some excuse +for not joining any of the other female servants, who might happen to +be similarly favoured. The one use she made of her holiday was to +travel by railway to some place unknown; always returning at the right +time in the evening. Iris knew enough of the sad circumstances to be +able to respect her motives, and to appreciate the necessity for +keeping the object of these solitary journeys a secret from her +fellow-servants. + +The pleasant life in the country house had lasted for nearly a month, +when the announcement of Hugh's approaching return to England reached +Iris. The fatal end of his father's long and lingering illness had +arrived, and the funeral had taken place. Business, connected with his +succession to the property, would detain him in London for a few days. +Submitting to this necessity, he earnestly expressed the hope of seeing +Iris again, the moment he was at liberty. + +Hearing the good news, Mr. Henley obstinately returned to his +plans--already twice thwarted--for promoting the marriage of Mountjoy +and Iris. + +He wrote to invite Hugh to his house in a tone of cordiality which +astonished his daughter; and when the guest arrived, the genial welcome +of the host had but one defect--Mr. Henley overacted his part. He gave +the two young people perpetual opportunities of speaking to each other +privately; and, on the principle that none are so blind as those who +won't see, he failed to discover that the relations between them +continued to be relations of friendship, do what he might. Hugh's long +attendance on his dying father had left him depressed in spirits; Iris +understood him, and felt for him. He was not ready with his opinion of +the new maid, after he had seen Fanny Mere. "My inclination," he said, +"is to trust the girl. And yet, I hesitate to follow my +inclination--and I don't know why." + +When Hugh's visit came to an end, he continued his journey in a +northerly direction. The property left to him by his father included a +cottage, standing in its own grounds, on the Scotch shore of the Solway +Firth. The place had been neglected during the long residence of the +elder Mr. Mountjoy on the Continent. Hugh's present object was to +judge, by his own investigation, of the necessity for repairs. + +On the departure of his guest, Mr. Henley (still obstinately hopeful of +the marriage on which he had set his mind) assumed a jocular manner +towards Iris, and asked if the Scotch cottage was to be put in order +for the honeymoon. Her reply, gently as it was expressed, threw him +into a state of fury. His vindictive temper revelled, not only in harsh +words, but in spiteful actions. He sold one of his dogs which had +specially attached itself to Iris; and, seeing that she still enjoyed +the country, he decided on returning to London. + +She submitted in silence. But the events of that past time, when her +father's merciless conduct had driven her out of his house, returned +ominously to her memory. She said to herself: "Is a day coming when I +shall leave him again?" It was coming--and she little knew how. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE DOCTOR IN FULL DRESS + +MR. HENLEY'S household had been again established in London, when a +servant appeared one morning with a visiting card, and announced that a +gentleman had called who wished to see Miss Henley. She looked at the +card. The gentleman was Mr. Vimpany. + +On the point of directing the man to say that she was engaged, Iris +checked herself. + +Mrs. Vimpany's farewell words had produced a strong impression on her. +There had been moments of doubt and gloom in her later life, when the +remembrance of that unhappy woman was associated with a feeling +(perhaps a morbid feeling) of self-reproach. It seemed to be hard on +the poor penitent wretch not to have written to her. Was she still +leading the same dreary life in the mouldering old town? Or had she +made another attempt to return to the ungrateful stage? The gross +husband, impudently presenting himself with his card and his message, +could answer those questions if he could do nothing else. For that +reason only Iris decided that she would receive Mr. Vimpany. + +On entering the room, she found two discoveries awaiting her, for which +she was entirely unprepared. + +The doctor's personal appearance exhibited a striking change; he was +dressed, in accordance with the strictest notions of professional +propriety, entirely in black. More remarkable still, there happened to +be a French novel among the books on the table--and that novel Mr. +Vimpany, barbarous Mr. Vimpany, was actually reading with an appearance +of understanding it! + +"I seem to surprise you," said the doctor. "Is it this?" He held up the +French novel as he put the question. + +"I must own that I was not aware of the range of your accomplishments," +Iris answered. + +"Oh, don't talk of accomplishments! I learnt my profession in Paris. +For nigh on three years I lived among the French medical students. +Noticing this book on the table, I thought I would try whether I had +forgotten the language--in the time that has passed (you know) since +those days. Well, my memory isn't a good one in most things, but +strange to say (force of habit, I suppose), some of my French sticks by +me still. I hope I see you well, Miss Henley. Might I ask if you +noticed the new address, when I sent up my card?" + +"I only noticed your name." + +The doctor produced his pocket-book, and took out a second card. With +pride he pointed to the address: "5 Redburn Road, Hampstead Heath." +With pride he looked at his black clothes. "Strictly professional, +isn't it?" he said. "I have bought a new practice; and I have become a +new man. It isn't easy at first. No, by jingo--I beg your pardon--I was +about to say, my own respectability rather bothers me; I shall get used +to it in time. If you will allow me, I'll take a liberty. No offence, I +hope?" + +He produced a handful of his cards, and laid them out in a neat little +semicircle on the table. + +"A word of recommendation, when you have the chance, would be a +friendly act on your part," he explained. "Capital air in Redburn Road, +and a fine view of the Heath out of the garret windows--but it's rather +an out-of-the-way situation. Not that I complain; beggars mustn't be +choosers. I should have preferred a practice in a fashionable part of +London; but our little windfall of money--" + +He came to a full stop in the middle of a sentence. The sale of the +superb diamond pin, by means of which Lord Harry had repaid Mrs. +Vimpany's services, was, of all domestic events, the last which it +might be wise to mention in the presence of Miss Henley. He was +awkwardly silent. Taking advantage of that circumstance, Iris +introduced the subject in which she felt interested. + +"How is Mrs. Vimpany?" she asked. + +"Oh, she's all right!" + +"Does she like your new house?" + +The doctor made a strange reply. "I really can't tell you," he said. + +"Do you mean that Mrs. Vimpany declines to express an opinion?" + +He laughed. "In all my experience," he said, "I never met with a woman +who did that! No, no; the fact is, my wife and I have parted company. +There's no need to look so serious about it! Incompatibility of temper, +as the saying is, has led us to a friendly separation. Equally a relief +on both sides. She goes her way, I go mine." + +His tone disgusted Iris--and she let him see it. "Is it of any use to +ask you for Mrs. Vimpany's address?" she inquired. + +His atrocious good-humour kept its balance as steadily as ever: "Sorry +to disappoint you. Mrs. Vimpany hasn't given me her address. Curious, +isn't it? The fact is, she moped a good deal, after you left us; talked +of her duty, and the care of her soul, and that sort of thing. When I +hear where she is, I'll let you know with pleasure. To the best of my +belief, she's doing nurse's work somewhere." + +"Nurse's work? What do you mean?" + +"Oh, the right thing--all in the fashion. She belongs to what they call +a Sisterhood; goes about, you know, in a shabby black gown, with a poke +bonnet. At least, so Lord Harry told me the other day." + +In spite of herself, Iris betrayed the agitation which those words +instantly roused in her. "Lord Harry!" she exclaimed. "Where is he? In +London?" + +"Yes--at Parker's Hotel." + +"When did he return?" + +"Oh, a few days ago; and--what do you think?--he's come back from the +goldfields a lucky man. Damn it, I've let the cat out of the bag! I was +to keep the thing a secret from everybody, and from you most +particularly. He's got some surprise in store for you. Don't tell him +what I've done! We had a little misunderstanding, in past days, at +Honeybuzzard--and, now we are friends again, I don't want to lose his +lordship's interest." + +Iris promised to be silent. But to know that the wild lord was in +England again, and to remain in ignorance whether he had, or had not, +returned with the stain of bloodshed on him, was more than she could +endure. + +"There is one question I must ask you," she said. "I have reason to +fear that Lord Harry left this country, with a purpose of revenge--" + +Mr. Vimpany wanted no further explanation. "Yes, yes; I know. You may +be easy about that. There's been no mischief done, either one way or +the other. The man he was after, when he landed in South Africa (he +told me so himself) has escaped him." + +With that reply, the doctor got up in a hurry to bring his visit to an +end. He proposed to take to flight, he remarked facetiously, before +Miss Henley wheedled him into saying anything more. + +After opening the door, however, he suddenly returned to Iris, and +added a last word in the strictest confidence. + +"If you won't forget to recommend me to your friends," he said, "I'll +trust you with another secret. You will see his lordship in a day or +two, when he returns from the races. Good-bye." + +The races! What was Lord Harry doing at the races? + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +ON HAMPSTEAD HEATH + +IRIS had only to remember the manner in which she and Mountjoy had +disappointed her father, to perceive the serious necessity of +preventing Mountjoy's rival from paying a visit at Mr. Henley's house. + +She wrote at once to Lord Harry, at the hotel which Mr. Vimpany had +mentioned, entreating him not to think of calling on her. Being well +aware that he would insist on a meeting, she engaged to write again and +propose an appointment. In making this concession, Iris might have +found it easier to persuade herself that she was yielding to sheer +necessity, if she had not been guiltily conscious of a feeling of +pleasure at the prospect of seeing Lord Harry again, returning to her +an innocent man. There was some influence, in this train of thought, +which led her mind back to Hugh. She regretted his absence--wondered +whether he would have proposed throwing her letter to the Irish lord +into the fire--sighed, closed the envelope, and sent the letter to the +post. + +On the next day, she had arranged to drive to Muswell Hill, and to pay +the customary visit to Rhoda. Heavy rain obliged her to wait for a +fitter opportunity. It was only on the third day that the sky cleared, +and the weather was favourable again. On a sunshiny autumn morning, +with a fine keen air blowing, she ordered the open carriage. Noticing, +while Fanny Mere was helping her to dress, that the girl looked even +paler than usual, she said, with her customary kindness to persons +dependent on her, "You look as if a drive in the fresh air would do you +good--you shall go with me to the farm, and see Rhoda Bennet." + +When they stopped at the house, the farmer's wife appeared, attending a +gentleman to the door. Iris at once recognised the local medical man. +"You're not in attendance, I hope, on Rhoda Bennet?" she said. + +The doctor acknowledged that there had been some return of the nervous +derangement from which the girl suffered. He depended mainly (he said) +on the weather allowing her to be out as much as possible in the fresh +air, and on keeping her free from all agitation. Rhoda was so far on +the way to recovery, that she was now walking in the garden by his +advice. He had no fear of her, provided she was not too readily +encouraged, in her present state, to receive visitors. Her mistress +would be, of course, an exception to this rule. But even Miss Henley +would perhaps do well not to excite the girl by prolonging her visit. +There was one other suggestion which he would venture to make, while he +had the opportunity. Rhoda was not, as he thought, warmly enough +clothed for the time of year; and a bad cold might be easily caught by +a person in her condition. + +Iris entered the farm-house; leaving Fanny Mere, after what the doctor +had said on the subject of visitors, to wait for her in the carriage. + +After an absence of barely ten minutes Miss Henley returned; personally +changed, not at all to her own advantage, by the introduction of a +novelty in her dress. She had gone into the farmhouse, wearing a +handsome mantle of sealskin. When she came out again, the mantle had +vanished, and there appeared in its place a common cloak of +drab-coloured cloth. Noticing the expression of blank amazement in the +maid's face, Iris burst out laughing. + +"How do you think I look in my new cloak?" she asked. + +Fanny saw nothing to laugh at in the sacrifice of a sealskin mantle. "I +must not presume, Miss, to give an opinion," she said gravely. + +"At any rate," Iris continued, "you must be more than mortal if my +change of costume doesn't excite your curiosity. I found Rhoda Bennet +in the garden, exposed to the cold wind in this ugly flimsy thing. +After what the doctor had told me, it was high time to assert my +authority. I insisted on changing cloaks with Rhoda. She made an +attempt, poor dear, to resist; but she knows me of old--and I had my +way. I am sorry you have been prevented from seeing her; you shall not +miss the opportunity when she is well again. Do you admire a fine view? +Very well; we will vary the drive on our return. Go back," she said to +the coachman, "by Highgate and Hampstead." + +Fanny's eyes rested on the shabby cloak with a well-founded distrust of +it as a protection against the autumn weather. She ventured to suggest +that her mistress might feel the loss (in an open carriage) of the warm +mantle which she had left on Rhoda's shoulders. + +Iris made light of the doubt expressed by her maid. But by the time +they had passed Highgate, and had approached the beginning of the +straight road which crosses the high ridge of Hampstead Heath, she was +obliged to acknowledge that she did indeed feel the cold. "You ought to +be a good walker," she said, looking at her maid's firm well-knit +figure. "Exercise is all I want to warm me. What do you say to going +home on foot?" Fanny was ready and willing to accompany her mistress. +The carriage was dismissed, and they set forth on their walk. + +As they passed the inn called "The Spaniards," two women who were +standing at the garden gate stared at Iris, and smiled. A few paces +further on, they were met by an errand-boy. He too looked at the young +lady, and put his hand derisively to his head, with a shrill whistle +expressive of malicious enjoyment. "I appear to amuse these people," +Iris said. "What do they see in me?" + +Fanny answered with an effort to preserve her gravity, which was not +quite successfully disguised: "I beg your pardon, Miss; I think they +notice the curious contrast between your beautiful bonnet and your +shabby cloak." + +Persons of excitable temperament have a sense of ridicule, and a dread +of it, unintelligible to their fellow-creatures who are made of coarser +material. For the moment, Iris was angry. "Why didn't you tell me of +it," she asked sharply, "before I sent away the carriage? How can I +walk back, with everybody laughing at me?" + +She paused--reflected a little--and led the way off the high road, on +the right, to the fine clump of fir-trees which commands the famous +view in that part of the Heath. + +"There's but one thing to be done," she said, recovering her good +temper; "we must make my grand bonnet suit itself to my miserable +cloak. You will pull out the feather and rip off the lace (and keep +them for yourself, if you like), and then I ought to look shabby enough +from head to foot, I am sure! No; not here; they may notice us from the +road--and what may the fools not do when they see you tearing the +ornaments off my bonnet! Come down below the trees, where the ground +will hide us." + +They had nearly descended the steep slope which leads to the valley, +below the clump of firs, when they were stopped by a terrible +discovery. + +Close at their feet, in a hollow of the ground, was stretched the +insensible body of a man. He lay on his side, with his face turned away +from them. An open razor had dropped close by him. Iris stooped over +the prostate man, to examine his face. Blood flowing from a frightful +wound in his throat, was the first thing that she saw. Her eyes closed +instinctively, recoiling from that ghastly sight. The next instant she +opened them again, and saw his face. + +Dying or dead, it was the face of Lord Harry. + +The shriek that burst from her, on making that horrible discovery, was +heard by two men who were crossing the lower heath at some distance. +They saw the women, and ran to them. One of the men was a labourer; the +other, better dressed, looked like a foreman of works. He was the first +who arrived on the spot. + +"Enough to frighten you out of your senses, ladies," he said civilly. +"It's a case of suicide, I should say, by the look of it." + +"For God's sake, let us do something to help him!" Iris burst out. "I +know him! I know him!" + +Fanny, equal to the emergency, asked Miss Henley for her handkerchief, +joined her own handkerchief to it, and began to bandage the wound. "Try +if his pulse is beating," she said quietly to her mistress. The foreman +made himself useful by examining the suicide's pockets. Iris thought +she could detect a faint fluttering in the pulse. "Is there no doctor +living near?" she cried. "Is there no carriage to be found in this +horrible place?" + +The foreman had discovered two letters. Iris read her own name on one +of them. The other was addressed "To the person who may find my body." +She tore the envelope open. It contained one of Mr. Vimpany's cards, +with these desperate words written on it in pencil: "Take me to the +doctor's address, and let him bury me, or dissect me, whichever he +pleases." Iris showed the card to the foreman. "Is it near here?" she +asked. "Yes, Miss; we might get him to that place in no time, if there +was a conveyance of any kind to be found." Still preserving her +presence of mind, Fanny pointed in the direction of "The Spaniards" +inn. "We might get what we want there," she said. "Shall I go?" + +Iris signed to her to attend to the wounded man, and ascended the +sloping ground. She ran on towards the road. The men, directed by +Fanny, raised the body and slowly followed her, diverging to an easier +ascent. As Iris reached the road, a four-wheel cab passed her. Without +an instant's hesitation, she called to the driver to stop. He pulled up +his horse. She confronted a solitary gentleman, staring out of the +window of the cab, and looking as if he thought that a lady had taken a +liberty with him. Iris allowed the outraged stranger no opportunity of +expressing his sentiments. Breathless as she was, she spoke first. + +"Pray forgive me--you are alone in the cab--there is room for a +gentleman, dangerously wounded--he will bleed to death if we don't find +help for him--the place is close by--oh, don't refuse me!" She looked +back, holding fast by the cab door, and saw Fanny and the men slowly +approaching. "Bring him here!" she cried. + +"Do nothing of the sort!" shouted the gentleman in possession of the +cab. + +But Fanny obeyed her mistress; and the men obeyed Fanny. Iris turned +indignantly to the merciless stranger. "I ask you to do an act of +Christian kindness," she said. "How can you, how dare you, hesitate?" + +"Drive on!" cried the stranger. + +"Drive on, at your peril," Iris added, on her side. + +The cabman sat, silent and stolid, on the box, waiting for events. + +Slowly the men came in view, bearing Lord Harry, still insensible. The +handkerchiefs on his throat were saturated with blood. At that sight, +the cowardly instincts of the stranger completely mastered him. "Let me +out!" he clamoured; "let me out!" + +Finding the cab left at her disposal, Iris actually thanked him! He +looked at her with an evil eye. "I have my suspicions, I can tell you," +he muttered. "If this comes to a trial in a court of law, I'm not going +to be mixed up with it. Innocent people have been hanged before now, +when appearances were against them." + +He walked off; and, by way of completing the revelation of his own +meanness, forgot to pay his fare. + +On the point of starting the horse to pursue him, the cabman was +effectually stopped. Iris showed him a sovereign. Upon this hint (like +Othello) he spoke. + +"All right, Miss. I see your poor gentleman is a-bleeding. You'll take +care--won't you?--that he doesn't spoil my cushions." The driver was +not a ill-conditioned man; he put the case of his property indulgently, +with a persuasive smile. Iris turned to the two worthy fellows, who had +so readily given her their help, and bade them good-bye, with a solid +expression of her gratitude which they both remembered for many a long +day to come. Fanny was already in the cab supporting Lord Harry's body. +Iris joined her. The cabman drove carefully to Mr. Vimpany's new house. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +PROFESSIONAL ASSISTANCE + +NUMBER Five was near the centre of the row of little suburban houses +called Redburn Road. + +When the cab drew up at the door Mr. Vimpany himself was visible, +looking out of the window on the ground floor--and yawning as he +looked. Iris beckoned to him impatiently. "Anything wrong?" he asked, +as he approached the door of the cab. She drew back, and silently +showed him what was wrong. The doctor received the shock with +composure. When he happened to be sober and sad, looking for patients +and failing to find them, Mr. Vimpany's capacity for feeling sympathy +began and ended with himself. + +"This is a new scrape, even for Lord Harry," he remarked. "Let's get +him into the house." + +The insensible man was carried into the nearest room on the ground +floor. Pale and trembling, Iris related what had happened, and asked if +there was no hope of saving him. + +"Patience!" Mr. Vimpany answered; "I'll tell you directly." + +He removed the bandages, and examined the wound. "There's been a deal +of blood lost," he said; "I'll try and pull him through. While I am +about it, Miss, go upstairs, if you please, and find your way to the +drawing-room." Iris hesitated. The doctor opened a neat mahogany box. +"The tools of my trade," he continued; "I'm going to sew up his +lordship's throat." Shuddering as she heard those words, Iris hurried +out of the room. Fanny followed her mistress up the stairs. In her own +very different way, the maid was as impenetrably composed as Mr. +Vimpany himself. "There was a second letter found in the gentleman's +pocket, Miss," she said. "Will you excuse my reminding you that you +have not read it yet." + +Iris read the lines that follow: + +"Forgive me, my dear, for the last time. My letter is to say that I +shall trouble you no more in this world--and, as for the other world, +who knows? I brought some money back with me, from the goldfields. It +was not enough to be called a fortune--I mean the sort of fortune which +might persuade your father to let you marry me. Well! here in England, +I had an opportunity of making ten times more of it on the turf; and, +let me add, with private information of the horses which I might +certainly count on to win. I don't stop to ask by what cruel roguery I +was tempted to my ruin. My money is lost; and, with it, my last hope of +a happy and harmless life with you comes to an end. I die, Iris dear, +with the death of that hope. Something in me seems to shrink from +suicide in the ugly gloom of great overgrown London. I prefer to make +away with myself among the fields, where the green will remind me of +dear old Ireland. When you think of me sometimes, say to yourself the +poor wretch loved me--and perhaps the earth will lie lighter on Harry +for those kind words, and the flowers (if you favour me by planting a +few) may grow prettier on my grave." + +There it ended. + +The heart of Iris sank as she read that melancholy farewell, expressed +in language at once wild and childish. If he survived his desperate +attempt at self-destruction, to what end would it lead? In silence, the +woman who loved him put his letter back in her bosom. Watching her +attentively--affected, it was impossible to say how, by that mute +distress--Fanny Mere proposed to go downstairs, and ask once more what +hope there might be for the wounded man. Iris knew the doctor too well +to let the maid leave her on a useless errand. + +"Some men might be kindly ready to relieve my suspense," she said; "the +man downstairs is not one of them. I must wait till he comes to me, or +sends for me. But there is something I wish to say to you, while we are +alone. You have been but a short time in my service, Fanny. Is it too +soon to ask if you feel some interest in me?" + +"If I can comfort you or help you, Miss, be pleased to tell me how." +She made that reply respectfully, in her usual quiet manner; her pale +cheeks showing no change of colour, her faint blue eyes resting +steadily on her mistress's face. Iris went on: + +"If I ask you to keep what has happened, on this dreadful day, a secret +from everybody, may I trust you--little as you know of me--as I might +have trusted Rhoda Bennet?" + +"I promise it, Miss." In saying those few words, the undemonstrative +woman seemed to think that she had said enough. + +Iris had no alternative but to ask another favour. + +"And whatever curiosity you may feel, will you be content to do me a +kindness--without wanting an explanation?" + +"It is my duty to respect my mistress's secrets; I will do my duty." No +sentiment, no offer of respectful sympathy; a positive declaration of +fidelity, left impenetrably to speak for itself. Was the girl's heart +hardened by the disaster which had darkened her life? Or was she the +submissive victim of that inbred reserve, which shrinks from the frank +expression of feeling, and lives and dies self-imprisoned in its own +secrecy? A third explanation, founded probably on a steadier basis, was +suggested by Miss Henley's remembrance of their first interview. +Fanny's nature had revealed a sensitive side, when she was first +encouraged to hope for a refuge from ruin followed perhaps by +starvation and death. Judging so far from experience, a sound +conclusion seemed to follow. When circumstances strongly excited the +girl, there was a dormant vitality in her that revived. At other times +when events failed to agitate her by a direct appeal to personal +interests, her constitutional reserve held the rule. She could be +impenetrably honest, steadily industrious, truly grateful--but the +intuitive expression of feeling, on ordinary occasions, was beyond her +reach. + +After an interval of nearly half an hour, Mr. Vimpany made his +appearance. Pausing in the doorway, he consulted his watch, and entered +on a calculation which presented him favourably from a professional +point of view. + +"Allow for time lost in reviving my lord when he fainted, and stringing +him up with a drop of brandy, and washing my hands (look how clean they +are!), I haven't been more than twenty minutes in mending his throat. +Not bad surgery, Miss Henley." + +"Is his life safe, Mr. Vimpany?" + +"Thanks to his luck--yes." + +"His luck?" + +"To be sure! In the first place, he owes his life to your finding him +when you did; a little later, and it would have been all over with Lord +Harry. Second piece of luck: catching the doctor at home, just when he +was most wanted. Third piece of luck: our friend didn't know how to cut +his own throat properly. You needn't look black at me, Miss; I'm not +joking. A suicide with a razor in his hand has generally one chance in +his favour--he is ignorant of anatomy. That is my lord's case. He has +only cut through the upper fleshy part of his throat, and has missed +the larger blood vessels. Take my word for it, he will do well enough +now; thanks to you, thanks to me, and thanks to his own ignorance. What +do you say to that way of putting it? Ha! my brains are in good working +order to-day; I haven't been drinking any of Mr. Mountjoy's claret--do +you take the joke, Miss Henley?" + +Chuckling over the recollection of his own drunken audacity, he +happened to notice Fanny Mere. + +"Hullo! is this another injured person in want of me? You're as white +as a sheet, Miss. If you're going to faint, do me a favour--wait till I +can get the brandy-bottle. Oh! it's natural to you, is it? I see. A +thick skin and a slow circulation; you will live to be an old woman. A +friend of yours, Miss Henley?" + +Fanny answered composedly for herself: "I am Miss Henley's maid, sir." + +"What's become of the other one?" Mr. Vimpany asked. "Aye? aye? Staying +at a farm-house for the benefit of her health, is she? If I had been +allowed time enough, I would have made a cure of Rhoda Bennet. There +isn't a medical man in England who knows more than I do of the nervous +maladies of women--and what is my reward? Is my waiting-room crammed +with rich people coming to consult me? Do I live in a fashionable +Square? Have I even been made a Baronet? Damn it--I beg your pardon, +Miss Henley--but it is irritating, to a man of my capacity, to be +completely neglected. For the last three days not a creature has +darkened the doors of this house. Could I say a word to you?" + +He led Iris mysteriously into a corner of the room. "About our friend +downstairs?" he began. + +"When may we hope that he will be well again, Mr. Vimpany?" + +"Maybe in three weeks. In a month at most. I have nobody here but a +stupid servant girl. We ought to have a competent nurse. I can get a +thoroughly trained person from the hospital; but there's a little +difficulty. I am an outspoken man. When I am poor, I own I am poor. My +lord must be well fed; the nurse must be well fed. Would you mind +advancing a small loan, to provide beforehand for the payment of +expenses?" + +Iris handed her purse to him, sick of the sight of Mr. Vimpany. "Is +that all?" she asked, making for the door. + +"Much obliged. That's all." + +As they approached the room on the ground floor, Iris stopped: her eyes +rested on the doctor. Even to that coarse creature, the eloquent look +spoke for her. Fanny noticed it, and suddenly turned her head aside. +Over the maid's white face there passed darkly an expression of +unutterable contempt. Her mistress's weakness had revealed +itself--weakness for one of the betrayers of women; weakness for a man! +In the meantime, Mr. Vimpany (having got the money) was ready to humour +the enviable young lady with a well-filled purse. + +"Do you want to see my lord before you go?" he asked, amused at the +idea. "Mind! you mustn't disturb him! No talking, and no crying. Ready? +Now look at him." + +There he lay on a shabby little sofa, in an ugly little room; his eyes +closed; one helpless hand hanging down; a stillness on his ghastly +face, horribly suggestive of the stillness of death--there he lay, the +reckless victim of his love for the woman who had desperately renounced +him again and again, who had now saved him for the third time. Ah, how +her treacherous heart pleaded for him! Can you drive him away from you +after this? You, who love him, what does your cold-blooded prudence +say, when you look at him now? + +She felt herself drawn, roughly and suddenly, back into the passage. +The door was closed; the doctor was whispering to her. "Hold up, Miss! +I expected better things of you. Come! come!--no fainting. You'll find +him a different man to-morrow. Pay us a visit, and judge for yourself." + +After what she had suffered, Iris hungered for sympathy. "Isn't it +pitiable?" she said to her maid as they left the house. + +"I don't know, Miss." + +"You don't know? Good heavens, are you made of stone? Have you no such +thing as a heart in you?" + +"Not for the men," Fanny answered. "I keep my pity for the women." + +Iris knew what bitter remembrances made their confession in those +words. How she missed Rhoda Bennet at that moment! + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +MR. HENLEY AT HOME + +FOR a month, Mountjoy remained in his cottage on the shores of the +Solway Firth, superintending the repairs. + +His correspondence with Iris was regularly continued; and, for the +first time in his experience of her, was a cause of disappointment to +him. + +Her replies revealed an incomprehensible change in her manner of +writing, which became more and more marked in each succeeding instance. +Notice it as he might in his own letters, no explanation followed on +the part of his correspondent. She, who had so frankly confided her +joys and sorrows to him in past days, now wrote with a reserve which +seemed only to permit the most vague and guarded allusion to herself. +The changes in the weather; the alternation of public news that was +dull, and public news that was interesting; the absence of her father +abroad, occasioned by doubt of the soundness of his investments in +foreign securities; vague questions relating to Hugh's new place of +abode, which could only have proceeded from a preoccupied mind--these +were the topics on which Iris dwelt, in writing to her faithful old +friend. It was hardly possible to doubt that something must have +happened, which she had reasons--serious reasons, as it seemed only too +natural to infer--for keeping concealed from Mountjoy. Try as he might +to disguise it from himself, he now knew how dear, how hopelessly dear, +she was to him by the anxiety that he suffered, and by the jealous +sense of injury which defied his self-command. His immediate +superintendence of the workmen at the cottage was no longer necessary. +Leaving there a representative whom he could trust, he resolved to +answer his last letter, received from Iris, in person. + +The next day he was in London. + +Calling at the house, he was informed that Miss Henley was not at home, +and that it was impossible to say with certainty when she might return. +While he was addressing his inquiries to the servant, Mr. Henley opened +the library door. "Is that you, Mountjoy?" he asked. "Come in: I want +to speak to you." + +Short and thick-set, with a thin-lipped mouth, a coarsely-florid +complexion, and furtive greenish eyes; hard in his manner, and harsh in +his voice; Mr. Henley was one of the few heartless men, who are +innocent of deception on the surface: he was externally a person who +inspired, at first sight, feelings of doubt and dislike. His manner +failed to show even a pretence of being glad to see Hugh. What he had +to say, he said walking up and down the room, and scratching his +bristly iron-gray hair from time to time. Those signs of restlessness +indicated, to those who knew him well, that he had a selfish use to +make of a fellow-creature, and failed to see immediately how to reach +the end in view. + +"I say, Mountjoy," he began, "have you any idea of what my daughter is +about?" + +"I don't even understand what you mean," Hugh replied. "For the last +month I have been in Scotland." + +"You and she write to each other, don't you?" + +"Yes." + +"Hasn't she told you--" + +"Excuse me for interrupting you, Mr. Henley; she has told me nothing." + +Mr. Henley stared absently at the superbly-bound books on his +library-shelves (never degraded by the familiar act of reading), and +scratched his head more restlessly than ever. + +"Look here, young man. When you were staying with me in the country, I +rather hoped it might end in a marriage engagement. You and Iris +disappointed me--not for the first time. But women do change their +minds. Suppose she had changed her mind, after having twice refused +you? Suppose she had given you an opportunity--" + +Hugh interrupted him again. "It's needless to suppose anything of the +sort, sir; she would not have given me an opportunity." + +"Don't fence with me, Mountjoy! I'll put it in a milder way, if you +prefer being humbugged. Do you feel any interest in that perverse girl +of mine?" + +Hugh answered readily and warmly: "The truest interest!" + +Even Mr. Henley was human; his ugly face looked uglier still. It +assumed the self-satisfied expression of a man who had carried his +point. + +"Now I can go on, my friend, with what I had to say to you. I have been +abroad on business, and only came back the other day. The moment I saw +Iris I noticed something wrong about her. If I had been a stranger, I +should have said: That young woman is not easy in her mind. Perfectly +useless to speak to her about it. Quite happy and quite well--there was +her own account of herself. I tried her maid next, a white-livered +sulky creature, one of the steadiest liars I have ever met with. 'I +know of nothing amiss with my mistress, sir.' There was the maid's way +of keeping the secret, whatever it may be! I don't know whether you may +have noticed it, in the course of your acquaintance with me--I hate to +be beaten." + +"No, Mr. Henley, I have not noticed it." + +"Then you are informed of it now. Have you seen my housekeeper?" + +"Once or twice, sir." + +"Come! you're improving; we shall make something of you in course of +time. Well, the housekeeper was the next person I spoke to about my +daughter. Had she seen anything strange in Miss Iris, while I was away +from home? There's a dash of malice in my housekeeper's composition; I +don't object to a dash of malice. When the old woman is pleased, she +shows her yellow fangs. She had something to tell me: 'The servants +have been talking, sir, about Miss Iris.' 'Out with it, ma'am! what do +they say?' 'They notice, sir, that their young lady has taken to going +out in the forenoon, regularly every day: always by herself, and always +in the same direction. I don't encourage the servants, Mr. Henley: +there was something insolent in the tone of suspicion that they +adopted. I told them that Miss Iris was merely taking her walk. They +reminded me that it must be a cruelly long walk; Miss Iris being away +regularly for four or five hours together, before she came back to the +house. After that' (says the housekeeper) 'I thought it best to drop +the subject.' What do you think of it yourself, Mountjoy? Do you call +my daughter's conduct suspicious?" + +"I see nothing suspicious, Mr. Henley. When Iris goes out, she visits a +friend." + +"And always goes in the same direction, and always visits the same +friend," Mr. Henley added. "I felt a curiosity to know who that friend +might be; and I made the discovery yesterday. When you were staying in +my house in the country, do you remember the man who waited on you?" + +Mountjoy began to feel alarmed for Iris; he answered as briefly as +possible. + +"Your valet," he said. + +"That's it! Well, I took my valet into my confidence--not for the first +time, I can tell you: an invaluable fellow. When Iris went out +yesterday, he tracked her to a wretched little suburban place near +Hampstead Heath, called Redburn Road. She rang the bell at Number Five, +and was at once let in--evidently well known there. My clever man made +inquiries in the neighbourhood. The house belongs to a doctor, who has +lately taken it. Name of Vimpany." + +Mountjoy was not only startled, but showed it plainly. Mr. Henley, +still pacing backwards and forwards, happened by good fortune to have +his back turned towards his visitor, at that moment. + +"Now I ask you, as a man of the world," Mr. Henley resumed, "what does +this mean? If you're too cautious to speak out--and I must say it looks +like it--shall I set you the example?" + +"Just as you please, sir." + +"Very well, then; I'll tell you what I suspect. When Iris is at home, +and when there's something amiss in my family, I believe that scoundrel +Lord Harry to be at the bottom of it. There's my experience, and +there's my explanation. I was on the point of ordering my carriage, to +go to the doctor myself, and insist on knowing what the attraction is +that takes my daughter to his house, when I heard your voice in the +hall. You tell me you are interested in Iris. Very well; you are just +the man to help me." + +"May I ask how, Mr. Henley?" + +"Of course you may. You can find your way to her confidence, if you +choose to try; she will trust you, when she won't trust her father. I +don't care two straws about her other secrets; but I do want to know +whether she is, or is not, plotting to marry the Irish blackguard. +Satisfy me about that, and you needn't tell me anything more. May I +count on you to find out how the land lies?" + +Mountjoy listened, hardly able to credit the evidence of his own +senses; he was actually expected to insinuate himself into the +confidence of Iris, and then to betray her to her father! He rose, and +took his hat--and, without even the formality of a bow, opened the +door. + +"Does that mean No?" Mr. Henley called after him. + +"Most assuredly," Mountjoy answered--and closed the door behind him. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +FIRST SUSPICIONS OF IRIS + +FROM the last memorable day, on which Iris had declared to him that he +might always count on her as his friend, but never as his wife, Hugh +had resolved to subject his feelings to a rigorous control. As to +conquering his hopeless love, he knew but too well that it would +conquer him, on any future occasion when he and Iris happened to meet. + +He had been true to his resolution, at what cost of suffering he, and +he alone knew. Sincerely, unaffectedly, he had tried to remain her +friend. But the nature of the truest and the firmest man has its weak +place, where the subtle influence of a woman is concerned. Deeply +latent, beyond the reach of his own power of sounding, there was +jealousy of the Irish lord lurking in Mountjoy, and secretly leading +his mind when he hesitated in those emergencies of his life which were +connected with Iris. Ignorant of the influence which was really +directing him, he viewed with contempt Mr. Henley's suspicions of a +secret understanding between his daughter and the man who was, by her +own acknowledgment, unworthy of the love with which it had been her +misfortune to regard him. At the same time, Hugh's mind was reluctantly +in search of an explanation, which might account (without degrading +Iris) for her having been traced to the doctor's house. In his +recollection of events at the old country town, he found a motive for +her renewal of intercourse with such a man as Mr. Vimpany, in the +compassionate feeling with which she regarded the doctor's unhappy +wife. There might well be some humiliating circumstance, recently added +to the other trials of Mrs. Vimpany's married life, which had appealed +to all that was generous and forgiving in the nature of Iris. Knowing +nothing of the resolution to live apart which had latterly separated +the doctor and his wife, Mountjoy decided on putting his idea to the +test by applying for information to Mrs. Vimpany at her husband's +house. + +In the nature of a sensitive man the bare idea of delay, under these +circumstances, was unendurable. Hugh called the first cab that passed +him, and drove to Hampstead. + +Careful--morbidly careful, perhaps--not to attract attention needlessly +to himself, he stopped the cab at the entrance to Redburn Road, and +approached Number Five on foot. A servant-girl answered the door. +Mountjoy asked if Mrs. Vimpany was at home. + +The girl made no immediate reply. She seemed to be puzzled by +Mountjoy's simple question. Her familiar manner, with its vulgar +assumption of equality in the presence of a stranger, revealed the +London-bred maid-servant of modern times. "Did you say _Mrs._ Vimpany?" +she inquired sharply. + +"Yes." + +"There's no such person here." + +It was Mountjoy's turn to be puzzled. "Is this Mr. Vimpany's house?" he +said. + +"Yes, to be sure it is." + +"And yet Mrs. Vimpany doesn't live here?" + +"No Mrs. Vimpany has darkened these doors," the girl declared +positively. + +"Are you sure you are not making a mistake?" + +"Quite sure. I have been in the doctor's service since he first took +the house." + +Determined to solve the mystery, if it could be done, Mountjoy asked if +he could see the doctor. No: Mr. Vimpany had gone out. + +"There's a young person comes to us," the servant continued. "I wonder +whether you mean her, when you ask for Mrs. Vimpany? The name _she_ +gives is Henley." + +"Is Miss Henley here, now?" + +"You can't see her--she's engaged." + +She was not engaged with Mrs. Vimpany, for no such person was known in +the house. She was not engaged with the doctor, for the doctor had gone +out. Mountjoy looked at the hat-stand in the passage, and discovered a +man's hat and a man's greatcoat. To whom did they belong? Certainly not +to Mr. Vimpany, who had gone out. Repellent as it was, Mr. Henley's +idea that the explanation of his daughter's conduct was to be found in +the renewed influence over her of the Irish lord, now presented itself +to Hugh's mind under a new point of view. He tried in vain to resist +the impression that had been produced on him. A sense of injury, which +he was unable to justify to himself, took possession of him. Come what +might of it, he determined to set at rest the doubts of which he was +ashamed, by communicating with Iris. His card-case proved to be empty +when he opened it; but there were letters in his pocket, addressed to +him at his hotel in London. Removing the envelope from one of these, he +handed it to the servant: "Take that to Miss Henley, and ask when I can +see her." + +The girl left him in the passage, and went upstairs to the +drawing-room. + +In the flimsily-built little house, he could hear the heavy step of a +man, crossing the room above, and then the resonant tones of a man's +voice raised as if in anger. Had she given him already the right to be +angry with her? He thought of the time, when the betrayal of Lord +Harry's vindictive purpose in leaving England had frightened her--when +he had set aside his own sense of what was due to him, for her +sake--and had helped her to communicate, by letter, with the man whose +fatal ascendency over Iris had saddened his life. Was what he heard, +now, the return that he had deserved? + +After a short absence, the servant came back with a message. + +"Miss Henley begs you will excuse her. She will write to you." + +Would this promised letter be like the other letters which he had +received from her in Scotland? Mountjoy's gentler nature reminded him +that he owed it to his remembrance of happier days, and truer +friendship, to wait and see. + +He was just getting into the cab, on his return to London, when a +closed carriage, with one person in it, passed him on its way to +Redburn Road. In that person he recognised Mr. Henley. As the +cab-driver mounted to his seat, Hugh saw the carriage stop at Number +Five. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE PARTING SCENE + +THE evening had advanced, and the candles had just been lit in +Mountjoy's sitting-room at the hotel. + +His anxiety to hear from Iris had been doubled and trebled, since he +had made the discovery of her father's visit to the doctor's house, at +a time when it was impossible to doubt that Lord Harry was with her. +Hugh's jealous sense of wrong was now mastered by the nobler emotions +which filled him with pity and alarm, when he thought of Iris placed +between the contending claims of two such men as the heartless Mr. +Henley and the reckless Irish lord. He had remained at the hotel, +through the long afternoon, on the chance that she might write to him +speedily by the hand of a messenger--and no letter had arrived. He was +still in expectation of news which might reach him by the evening post, +when the waiter knocked at the door. + +"A letter?" Mountjoy asked. + +"No, sir," the man answered; "a lady." + +Before she could raise her veil, Hugh had recognised Iris. Her manner +was subdued; her face was haggard; her hand lay cold and passive in his +hand, when he advanced to bid her welcome. He placed a chair for her by +the fire. She thanked him and declined to take it. With the air of a +woman conscious of committing an intrusion, she seated herself apart in +a corner of the room. + +"I have tried to write to you, and I have not been able to do it." She +said that with a dogged resignation of tone and manner, so unlike +herself that Mountjoy looked at her in dismay. "My friend," she went +on, "your pity is all I may hope for; I am no longer worthy of the +interest you once felt in me." + +Hugh saw that it would be useless to remonstrate. He asked if it had +been his misfortune to offend her. + +"No," she said, "you have not offended me." + +"Then what in Heaven's name does this change in you mean?" + +"It means," she said, as coldly as ever, "that I have lost my +self-respect; it means that my father has renounced me, and that you +will do well to follow his example. Have I not led you to believe that +I could never be the wife of Lord Harry? Well, I have deceived you---I +am going to marry him." + +"I can't believe it, Iris! I won't believe it!" + +She handed him the letter, in which the Irishman had declared his +resolution to destroy himself. Hugh read it with contempt. "Did my +lord's heart fail him?" he asked scornfully. + +"He would have died by his own hand, Mr. Mountjoy----" + +"Oh, Iris--_'Mr.!'"_ + +"I will say 'Hugh,' if you prefer it--but the days of our familiar +friendship are none the less at an end. I found Lord Harry bleeding to +death from a wound in his throat. It was in a lonely place on Hampstead +Heath; I was the one person who happened to pass by it. For the third +time, you see, it has been my destiny to save him. How can I forget +that? My mind will dwell on it. I try to find happiness--oh, only +happiness enough for me--in cheering my poor Irishman, on his way back +to the life that I have preserved. There is my motive, if I have a +motive. Day after day I have helped to nurse him. Day after day I have +heard him say things to me--what is the use of repeating them? After +years of resistance I have given way; let that be enough. My one act of +discretion has been to prevent a quarrel between my father and Harry. I +beg your pardon, I ought to have said Lord Harry. When my father came +to the house, I insisted on speaking with him alone. I told him what I +have just told you. He said: 'Think again before you make your choice +between that man and me. If you decide to marry him, you will live and +die without one farthing of my money to help you.' He put his watch on +the table between us, and gave me five minutes to make up my mind. It +was a long five minutes, but it ended at last. He asked me which he was +to do--leave his will as it was, or go to his lawyer and make another. +I said, 'You will do as you please, sir.' No; it was not a hasty +reply--you can't make that excuse for me. I knew what I was saying; and +I saw the future I was preparing for myself, as plainly as you see +it--" + +Hugh could endure no longer the reckless expression of her despair. + +"No!" he cried, "you don't see your future as I see it. Will you hear +what I have to say, before it is too late?" + +"It is too late already. But I will listen to you if you wish it." + +"And, while you listen," Mountjoy added, "you will acquit me of being +influenced by a selfish motive. I have loved you dearly. Perhaps, in +secret, I love you still. But, this I know: if you were to remain a +single woman for the rest of your life, there would be no hope for Me. +Do you believe that I am speaking the truth?" + +"You always speak the truth." + +"I speak in your interest, at least. You think you see your future life +plainly--you are blind to your future life. You talk as if you were +resigned to suffer. Are you resigned to lose your sense of right and +wrong? Are you resigned to lead the life of an outlaw, and--worse +still--not to feel the disgrace of it?" + +"Go on, Hugh." + +"You won't answer me?" + +"I won't shock you." + +"You don't discourage me, my dear; I am still obstinate in the hope of +restoring you to your calmer and truer self. Let me do every justice to +Lord Harry. I believe, sincerely believe, that his miserable life has +not utterly destroyed in him the virtues which distinguish an +honourable man. But he has one terrible defect. In his nature, there is +the fatal pliability which finds companionable qualities in bad +friends. In this aspect of his character, he is a dangerous man--and he +may be (forgive me!) a bad husband. It is a thankless task to warn you +to any good purpose. A wife--and a loving wife more than another--feels +the deteriorating influence of a husband who is not worthy of her. His +ways of thinking are apt to become, little by little, her ways of +thinking. She makes allowances for him, which he does not deserve; her +sense of right and wrong becomes confused; and before she is aware of +it herself, she has sunk to his level. Are you angry with me?" + +"How can I be angry with you? Perhaps you are right." + +"Do you really mean that?" + +"Oh, yes." + +"Then, for God's sake, reconsider your decision! Let me go to your +father." + +"Mere waste of time," Iris answered. "Nothing that you can say will +have the least effect on him." + +"At any rate," Mountjoy persisted, "I mean to try." + +Had he touched her? She smiled--how bitterly Hugh failed to perceive. + +"Shall I tell you what happened to me when I went home to-day?" she +said. "I found my maid waiting in the hall--with everything that +belongs to me, packed up for my departure. The girl explained that she +had been forced to obey my father's positive orders. I knew what that +meant--I had to leave the house, and find a place to live in." + +"Not by yourself, Iris?" + +"No--with my maid. She is a strange creature; if she feels sympathy, +she never expresses it. 'I am your grateful servant, Miss. Where you +go, I go.' That was all she said; I was not disappointed--I am getting +used to Fanny Mere already. Mine is a lonely lot--isn't it? I have +acquaintances among the few ladies who sometimes visit at my father's +house, but no friends. My mother's family, as I have always been told, +cast her off when she married a man in trade, with a doubtful +reputation. I don't even know where my relations live. Isn't Lord Harry +good enough for me, as I am now? When I look at my prospects, is it +wonderful if I talk like a desperate woman? There is but one +encouraging circumstance that I can see. This misplaced love of mine +that everybody condemns has, oddly enough, a virtue that everybody must +admire. It offers a refuge to a woman who is alone in the world." + +Mountjoy denied indignantly that she was alone in the world. + +"Is there any protection that a man can offer to a woman," he asked, +"which I am not ready and eager to offer to You? Oh, Iris, what have I +done to deserve that you should speak of yourself as friendless in my +hearing!" + +He had touched her at last. Their tender charm showed itself once more +in her eyes and in her smile. She rose and approached him. + +"What exquisite kindness it must be," she said, "that blinds a clever +man like you to obstacles which anyone else can see! Remember, dear +Hugh, what the world would say to that protection which your true heart +offers to me. Are you my near relation? are you my guardian? are you +even an old man? Ah me! you are only an angel of goodness whom I must +submit to lose. I shall still count on your kindness when we see each +other no more. You will pity me, when you hear that I have fallen lower +and lower; you will be sorry for me, when I end in disgracing myself." + +"Even then, Iris, we shall not be separated. The loving friend who is +near you now, will be your loving friend still." + +For the first time in her life, she threw her arms round him. In the +agony of that farewell, she held him to her bosom. "Goodbye, dear," she +said faintly--and kissed him. + +The next moment, a deadly pallor overspread her face. She staggered as +she drew back, and dropped into the chair that she had just left. In +the fear that she might faint, Mountjoy hurried out in search of a +restorative. His bed-chamber was close by, at the end of the corridor; +and there were smelling-salts in his dressing-case. As he raised the +lid, he heard the door behind him, the one door in the room, locked +from the outer side. + +He rushed to the door, and called to her. From the farther end of the +corridor, her voice reached him for the last time, repeating the last +melancholy word: "Good-bye." No renewal of the miserable parting scene: +no more of the heartache--Iris had ended it! + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE FATAL WORDS + +WHEN Mountjoy had rung for the servant, and the bedroom door had been +unlocked, it was too late to follow the fugitive. Her cab was waiting +for her outside; and the attention of the porter had been distracted, +at the same time, by a new arrival of travellers at the hotel. + +It is more or less in the nature of all men who are worthy of the name, +to take refuge from distress in action. Hugh decided on writing to +Iris, and on making his appeal to her father, that evening. He +abstained from alluding, in his letter, to the manner in which she had +left him; it was her right, it was even her duty to spare herself. All +that he asked was to be informed of her present place of residence, so +that he might communicate the result--in writing only if she preferred +it--of his contemplated interview with her father. He addressed his +letter to the care of Mr. Vimpany, to be forwarded, and posted it +himself. + +This done, he went on at once to Mr. Henley's house. + +The servant who opened the door had evidently received his orders. Mr. +Henley was "not at home." Mountjoy was in no humour to be trifled with. +He pushed the man out of his way, and made straight for the +dining-room. There, as his previous experience of the habits of the +household had led him to anticipate, was the man whom he was determined +to see. The table was laid for Mr. Henley's late dinner. + +Hugh's well-meant attempt to plead the daughter's cause with the father +ended as Iris had said it would end. + +After hotly resenting the intrusion on him that had been committed, Mr. +Henley declared that a codicil to his will, depriving his daughter +absolutely of all interest in his property, had been legally executed +that day. For a time, Mountjoy's self-control had resisted the most +merciless provocation. All that it was possible to effect, by patient +entreaty and respectful remonstrance, he had tried again and again, and +invariably in vain. At last, Mr. Henley's unbridled insolence +triumphed. Hugh lost his temper--and, in leaving the heartless old man, +used language which he afterwards remembered with regret. + +To feel that he had attempted to assert the interests of Iris, and that +he had failed, was, in Hugh's heated state of mind, an irresistible +stimulant to further exertion. It was perhaps not too late yet to make +another attempt to delay (if not to prevent) the marriage. + +In sheer desperation, Mountjoy resolved to inform Lord Harry that his +union with Miss Henley would be followed by the utter ruin of her +expectations from her father. Whether the wild lord only considered his +own interests, or whether he was loyally devoted to the interests of +the woman whom he loved, in either case the penalty to be paid for the +marriage was formidable enough to make him hesitate. + +The lights in the lower window, and in the passage, told Hugh that he +had arrived in good time at Redburn Road. + +He found Mr. Vimpany and the young Irishman sitting together, in the +friendliest manner, under the composing influence of tobacco. Primed, +as he would have said himself, with only a third glass of grog, the +hospitable side of the doctor's character was displayed to view. He at +once accepted Mountjoy's visit as offering a renewal of friendly +relations between them. + +"Forgive and forget," he said, "there's the way to settle that little +misunderstanding, after our dinner at the inn. You know Mr. Mountjoy, +my lord? That's right. Draw in your chair, Mountjoy. My professional +prospects threaten me with ruin--but while I have a roof over my head, +there's always a welcome for a friend. My dear fellow, I have every +reason to believe that the doctor who sold me this practice was a +swindler. The money is gone, and the patients don't come. Well! I am +not quite bankrupt yet; I can offer you a glass of grog. Mix for +yourself--we'll make a night of it." + +Hugh explained (with the necessary excuses) that his object was to say +a few words to Lord Harry in private. The change visible in the +doctor's manner, when he had been made acquainted with this +circumstance, was not amiably expressed; he had the air of a man who +suspected that an unfair advantage had been taken of him. Lord Harry, +on his side, appeared to feel some hesitation in granting a private +interview to Mr. Mountjoy. + +"Is it about Miss Henley?" he asked. + +Hugh admitted that it was. Lord Harry thereupon suggested that they +might be acting wisely if they avoided the subject. Mountjoy answered +that there were, on the contrary, reasons for approaching the subject +sufficiently important to have induced him to leave London for +Hampstead at a late hour of the night. + +Hearing this, Lord Harry rose to lead the way to another room. Excluded +from his visitor's confidence, Mr. Vimpany could at least remind +Mountjoy that he exercised authority as master of the house. "Oh, take +him upstairs, my lord," said the doctor; "you are at home under my +humble roof!" + +The two young men faced each other in the barely-furnished +drawing-room; both sufficiently doubtful of the friendly result of the +conference to abstain from seating themselves. Hugh came to the point, +without wasting time in preparatory words. Admitting that he had heard +of Miss Henley's engagement, he asked if Lord Harry was aware of the +disastrous consequences to the young lady which would follow her +marriage. The reply to this was frankly expressed. The Irish lord knew +nothing of the consequences to which Mr. Mountjoy had alluded. Hugh at +once enlightened him, and evidently took him completely by surprise. + +"May I ask, sir," he said, "if you are speaking from your own personal +knowledge?" + +"I have just come, my lord, from Mr. Henley's house; and what I have +told you, I heard from his own lips." + +There was a pause. Hugh was already inclined to think that he had +raised an obstacle to the immediate celebration of the marriage. A +speedy disappointment was in store for him. Lord Harry was too fond of +Iris to be influenced, in his relations with her, by mercenary +considerations. + +"You put it strongly," he said. "But let me tell you, Miss Henley is +far from being so dependent on her father--he ought to be ashamed of +himself, but that's neither here nor there--I say, she is far from +being so dependent on her father as you seem to think. I am not, I beg +to inform you, without resources which I shall offer to her with all my +heart and soul. Perhaps you wish me to descend to particulars? Oh, it's +easily done; I have sold my cottage in Ireland." + +"For a large sum--in these times?" Hugh inquired. + +"Never mind the sum, Mr. Mountjoy--let the fact be enough for you. And, +while we are on the question of money (a disgusting question, with +which I refuse to associate the most charming woman in existence), +don't forget that Miss Henley has an income of her own; derived, as I +understand, from her mother's fortune, You will do me the justice, sir, +to believe that I shall not touch a farthing of it." + +"Certainly! But her mother's fortune," Mountjoy continued, obstinately +presenting the subject on its darkest side, "consists of shares in a +Company. Shares rise and fall--and Companies some times fail." + +"And a friend's anxiety about Miss Henley's affairs sometimes takes a +mighty disagreeable form," the Irishman added, his temper beginning to +show itself without disguise. "Let's suppose the worst that can happen, +and get all the sooner to the end of a conversation which is far from +being agreeable to me. We'll say, if you like, that Miss Henley's +shares are waste paper, and her pockets (God bless her!) as empty as +pockets can be, does she run any other risk that occurs to your +ingenuity in becoming my wife?" + +"Yes, she does!" Hugh was provoked into saying. "In the case you have +just supposed, she runs the risk of being left a destitute widow--if +you die." + +He was prepared for an angry reply--for another quarrel added, on that +disastrous night, to the quarrel with Mr. Henley. To his astonishment, +Lord Harry's brightly-expressive eyes rested on him with a look of +mingled distress and alarm. "God forgive me!" he said to himself, "I +never thought of that! What am I to do? what am I to do?" + +Mountjoy observed that deep discouragement, and failed to understand +it. + +Here was a desperate adventurer, whose wanderings had over and over +again placed his life in jeopardy, now apparently overcome by merely +having his thoughts directed to the subject of death! To place on the +circumstances such a construction as this was impossible, after a +moment's reflection. The other alternative was to assume that there +must be some anxiety burdening Lord Harry's mind, which he had motives +for keeping concealed--and here indeed the true explanation had been +found. The Irish lord had reasons, known only to himself, for recoiling +from the contemplation of his own future. After the murder of Arthur +Mountjoy, he had severed his connection with the assassinating +brotherhood of the Invincibles; and he had then been warned that he +took this step at the peril of his life, if he remained in Great +Britain after he had made himself an object of distrust to his +colleagues. The discovery, by the secret tribunal, of his return from +South Africa would be followed inevitably by the sentence of death. +Such was the terrible position which Mountjoy's reply had ignorantly +forced him to confront. His fate depended on the doubtful security of +his refuge in the doctor's house. + +While Hugh was still looking at him, in grave doubt, a new idea seemed +to spring to life in Lord Harry's mind. He threw off the oppression +that had weighed on his spirits in an instant. His manner towards +Mountjoy changed, with the suddenness of a flash of light, from the +extreme of coldness to the extreme of cordiality. + +"I have got it at last!" he exclaimed. "Let's shake hands. My dear sir, +you're the best friend I have ever had!" + +The cool Englishman asked: "In what way?" + +"In this way, to be sure! You have reminded me that I can provide for +Miss Henley--and the sooner the better. There's our friend the doctor +down-stairs, ready to be my reference. Don't you see it?" + +Obstacles that might prevent the marriage Mountjoy was ready enough to +see. Facilities that might hasten the marriage found his mind hard of +access to new impressions. + +"Are you speaking seriously?" he said. + +The Irishman's irritable temper began to show itself again. + +"Why do you doubt it?" he asked. + +"I fail to understand you," Mountjoy replied. + +Never--as events were yet to prove--had words of such serious import +fallen from Lord Harry's lips as the words that he spoke next. + +"Clear your mind of jealousy," he said, "and you will understand me +well enough. I agree with you that I am bound to provide for my +widow--and I mean to do it by insuring my life." + +THE END OF THE SECOND PERIOD + + + +THIRD PERIOD + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +NEWS OF IRIS + +AFTER his interview with the Irish lord, Mountjoy waited for two days, +in the expectation of hearing from Iris. No reply arrived. Had Mr. +Vimpany failed to forward the letter that had been entrusted to him? + +On the third day, Hugh wrote to make inquiries. + +The doctor returned the letter that had been confided to his care, and +complained in his reply of the ungrateful manner in which he had been +treated. Miss Henley had not trusted him with her new address in +London; and Lord Harry had suddenly left Redburn Road; bidding his host +goodbye in a few lines of commonplace apology, and nothing more. Mr. +Vimpany did not deny that he had been paid for his medical services; +but, he would ask, was nothing due to friendship? Was one man justified +in enjoying another man's hospitality, and then treating him like a +stranger? "I have done with them both--and I recommend you, my dear +sir, to follow my example." In those terms the angry (and sober) doctor +expressed his sentiments, and offered his advice. + +Mountjoy laid down the letter in despair. + +His last poor chance of preventing the marriage depended on his being +still able to communicate with Iris--and she was as completely lost to +him as if she had taken flight to the other end of the world. It might +have been possible to discover her by following the movements of Lord +Harry, but he too had disappeared without leaving a trace behind him. +The precious hours and days were passing--and Hugh was absolutely +helpless. + +Tortured by anxiety and suspense, he still lingered at the hotel in +London. More than once, he decided on giving up the struggle, and +returning to his pretty cottage in Scotland. More than once, he +deferred taking the journey. At one time, he dreaded to hear that Iris +was married, if she wrote to him. At another time, he felt mortified +and disappointed by the neglect which her silence implied. Was she near +him, or far from him? In England, or out of England? Who could say! + +After more weary days of waiting and suffering a letter arrived, +addressed to Mountjoy in a strange handwriting, and bearing the +post-mark of Paris. The signature revealed that his correspondent was +Lord Harry. + +His first impulse was to throw the letter into the fire, unread. There +could be little doubt, after the time that had passed, of the +information that it would contain. Could he endure to be told of the +marriage of Iris, by the man who was her husband? Never! There was +something humiliating in the very idea of it. He arrived at that +conclusion--and what did he do in spite of it? He read the letter. + +Lord Harry wrote with scrupulous politeness of expression. He regretted +that circumstances had prevented him from calling on Mr. Mountjoy, +before he left England. After the conversation that had taken place at +Mr. Vimpany's house, he felt it his duty to inform Mr. Mountjoy that he +had insured his life--and, he would add, for a sum of money amply, and +more than amply, sufficient to provide for his wife in the event of her +surviving him. Lady Harry desired her kind regards, and would write +immediately to her old and valued friend. In the meantime, he would +conclude by repeating the expression of his sense of obligation to Mr. +Mountjoy. + +Hugh looked back at the first page of the letter, in search of the +writer's address. It was simply, "Paris." The intention to prevent any +further correspondence, or any personal communication, could hardly +have been more plainly implied. In another moment, the letter was in +the fire. + +In two days more, Hugh heard from Iris. + +She, too, wrote regretfully of the sudden departure from England; +adding, however, that it was her own doing. A slip of the tongue, on +Lord Harry's part, in the course of conversation, had led her to fear +that he was still in danger from political conspirators with whom he +had imprudently connected himself. She had accordingly persuaded him to +tell her the whole truth, and had thereupon insisted on an immediate +departure for the Continent. She and her husband were now living in +Paris; Lord Harry having friends in that city whose influence might +prove to be of great importance to his pecuniary prospects. Some +sentences followed, expressing the writer's grateful remembrance of all +that she had owed to Hugh in past days, and her earnest desire that +they might still hear of each other, from time to time, by +correspondence. She could not venture to anticipate the pleasure of +receiving a visit from him, under present circumstances. But, she hoped +that he would not object to write to her, addressing his letters, for +the present, to post-restante. + +In a postscript a few words were added, alluding to Mr. Vimpany. Hugh +was requested not to answer any inquiries which that bad man might +venture to make, relating to her husband or to herself. In the bygone +days, she had been thankful to the doctor for the care which he had +taken, medically speaking, of Rhoda Bonnet. But, since that time, his +behaviour to his wife, and the opinions which he had expressed in +familiar conversation with Lord Harry, had convinced her that he was an +unprincipled person. All further communication with him (if her +influence could prevent it) must come to an end. + +Still as far as ever from feeling reconciled to the marriage, Mountjoy +read this letter with a feeling of resentment which disinclined him to +answer it. + +He believed (quite erroneously) that Iris had written to him under the +superintendence of her husband. There were certain phrases which had +been, as he chose to suspect, dictated by Lord Harry's distrust--jealous +distrust, perhaps--of his wife's friend. Mountjoy would wait to +reply, until, as he bitterly expressed it, Iris was able to write to +him without the assistance of her master. + +Again he thought of returning to Scotland--and, again, he hesitated. + +On this occasion, he discovered objections to the cottage which had not +occurred to him while Iris was a single woman. The situation was +solitary; his nearest neighbours were fishermen. Here and there, at +some little distance, there were only a few scattered houses inhabited +by retired tradesmen. Further away yet, there was the country-seat of +an absent person of distinction, whose health suffered in the climate +of Scotland. The lonely life in prospect, on the shores of the Solway, +now daunted Mountjoy for the first time. + +He decided on trying what society in London would do to divert his mind +from the burdens and anxieties that weighed on it. Acquaintances whom +he had neglected were pleasantly surprised by visits from their rich +and agreeable young friend. He attended dinner parties; he roused hope +in mothers and daughters by accepting invitations to balls; he +reappeared at his club. Was there any relief to his mind in this? was +there even amusement? No; he was acting a part, and he found it a hard +task to keep up appearances. After a brief and brilliant interval, +society knew him no more. + +Left by himself again, he enjoyed one happy evening in London. It was +the evening on which he relented, in spite of himself, and wrote to +Iris. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +LORD HARRY'S HONEYMOON + +THE next day, Hugh received a visit from the last person in the little +world of his acquaintance whom he expected to see. The lost Mrs. +Vimpany presented herself at the hotel. + +She looked unnaturally older since Mountjoy had last seen her. Her +artificial complexion was gone. The discarded rouge that had once +overlaid her cheeks, through a long succession of years, had left the +texture of the skin coarse, and had turned the colour of it to a dull +yellowish tinge. Her hair, once so skilfully darkened, was now +permitted to tell the truth, and revealed the sober colouring of age, +in gray. The lower face had fallen away in substance; and even the +penetrating brightness of her large dark eyes was a little dimmed. All +that had been left in her of the attractions of past days, owed its +vital preservation to her stage training. Her suave grace of movement, +and the deep elocutionary melody of her voice, still identified Mrs. +Vimpany--disguised as she was in a dress of dull brown, shorn without +mercy of the milliner's hideous improvements to the figure. "Will you +shake hands with me, Mr. Mountjoy?" Those were the first words she said +to him, in a sad subdued manner, on entering the room. + +"Why not?" Hugh asked, giving her his hand. + +"You can have no very favourable remembrance of me," she answered. "But +I hope to produce a better impression--if you can spare me a little of +your time. You may, or may not, have heard of my separation from my +husband. Anyway, it is needless to trouble you on the subject; you know +Mr. Vimpany; you can guess what I have suffered, and why I have left +him. If he comes to you, I hope you will not tell him where Lady Harry +is."-- + +Hugh interposed: "Pray don't speak of her by that name! Call her +'Iris,' as I do." + +A faint reflection of the old stage-smile trembled on Mrs. Vimpany's +worn and weary face. + +"Ah, Mr. Mountjoy, I know whom she ought to have married! The worst +enemy of women is their ignorance of men--and they only learn to know +better, when it is too late. I try to be hopeful for Iris, in the time +to come, but my fears conquer me." + +She paused, sighed, and pressed her open hand on her bosom; +unconsciously betraying in that action some of the ineradicable +training of the theatre. + +"I am almost afraid to say that I love Iris," she resumed; "but this I +know; if I am not so bad as I once was, I owe it to that dearest and +sweetest of women! But for the days that I passed in her company, I +might never have tried to atone for my past life by works of mercy. +When other people take the way of amendment, I wonder whether they find +it as hard to follow, at first, as I did?" + +"There is no doubt of it, Mrs. Vimpany--if people are sincere. Beware +of the sinners who talk of sudden conversion and perfect happiness. May +I ask how you began your new life?" + +"I began unhappily, Mr. Mountjoy--I joined a nursing Sisterhood. Before +long, a dispute broke out among them. Think of women who call +themselves Christians, quarrelling about churches and church +services--priest's vestments and attitudes, and candles and incense! I +left them, and went to a hospital, and found the doctors better +Christians than the Sisters. I am not talking about my own poor self +(as you will soon see) without a reason. My experience in the hospital +led to other things. I nursed a lady through a tedious illness, and was +trusted to take her to some friends in the south of France. On my +return, I thought of staying for a few days in Paris--it was an +opportunity of seeing how the nurses did their work in the French +hospitals. And, oh, it was far more than that! In Paris, I found Iris +again." + +"By accident?" Hugh asked. + +"I am not sure," Mrs. Vimpany answered, "that there are such things as +meetings by accident. She and her husband were among the crowds of +people on the Boulevards, who sit taking their coffee in view of the +other crowds, passing along the street. I went by, without noticing +them. _She_ saw me, and sent Lord Harry to bring me back. I have been +with them every day, at her invitation, from that time to this; and I +have seen their life." + +She stopped, noticing that Hugh grew restless. "I am in doubt," she +said, "whether you wish to hear more of their life in Paris." + +Mountjoy at once controlled himself. + +"Go on," he said quietly. + +"Even if I tell you that Iris is perfectly happy?" + +"Go on," Hugh repeated. + +"May I confess," she resumed, "that her husband is irresistible--not +only to his wife, but even to an old woman like me? After having known +him for years at his worst, as well as at his best, I am still foolish +enough to feel the charm of his high spirits and his delightful +good-humour. Sober English people, if they saw him now, would almost +think him a fit subject to be placed under restraint. One of his wild +Irish ideas of expressing devotion to his wife is, that they shall +forget they are married, and live the life of lovers. When they dine at +a restaurant, he insists on having a private room. He takes her to +public balls, and engages her to dance with him for the whole evening. +When she stays at home and is a little fatigued, he sends me to the +piano, and whirls her round the room in a waltz. 'Nothing revives a +woman,' he says, 'like dancing with the man she loves.' When she is out +of breath, and I shut up the piano, do you know what he does? He +actually kisses Me--and says he is expressing his wife's feeling for me +when she is not able to do it herself! He sometimes dines out with men, +and comes back all on fire with the good wine, and more amiable than +ever. On these occasions his pockets are full of sweetmeats, stolen for +'his angel' from the dessert. 'Am I a little tipsy?' he asks. 'Oh, +don't be angry; it's all for love of you. I have been in the highest +society, my darling; proposing your health over and over and over +again, and drinking to you deeper than all the rest of the company. You +don't blame me? Ah, but I blame myself. I was wrong to leave you, and +dine with men. What do I want with the society of men, when I have your +society? Drinking your health is a lame excuse. I will refuse all +invitations for the future that don't include my wife.' And--mind!--he +really means it, at the time. Two or three days later, he forgets his +good resolutions, and dines with the men again, and comes home with +more charming excuses, and stolen sweetmeats, and good resolutions. I +am afraid I weary you, Mr. Mountjoy?" + +"You surprise me," Hugh replied. "Why do I hear all this of Lord +Harry?" + +Mrs. Vimpany left her chair. The stage directions of other days had +accustomed her to rise, when the character she played had anything +serious to say. Her own character still felt the animating influence of +dramatic habit: she rose now, and laid her hand impressively on +Mountjoy's shoulder. + +"I have not thoughtlessly tried your patience," she said. "Now that I +am away from the influence of Lord Harry, I can recall my former +experience of him: and I am afraid I can see the end that is coming. He +will drift into bad company; he will listen to bad advice; and he will +do things in the future which he might shrink from doing now. When that +time comes, I fear him! I fear him!" + +"When that time comes," Hugh repeated, "if I have any influence left +over his wife, he shall find her capable of protecting herself. Will +you give me her address in Paris? + +"Willingly--if you will promise not to go to her till she really needs +you?" + +"Who is to decide when she needs me?" + +"I am to decide," Mrs. Vimpany answered; "Iris writes to me +confidentially. If anything happens which she may be unwilling to trust +to a letter, I believe I shall hear of it from her maid." + +"Are you sure the maid is to be relied on?" Mountjoy interposed. + +"She is a silent creature, so far as I know anything of her," Mrs. +Vimpany admitted; "and her manner doesn't invite confidence. But I have +spoken with Fanny Mere; I am satisfied that she is true to her mistress +and grateful to her mistress in her own strange way. If Iris is in any +danger, I shall not be left in ignorance of it. Does this incline you +to consult with me, before you decide on going to Paris? Don't stand on +ceremony; say honestly, Yes or No." + +Honestly, Hugh said Yes. + +He was at once trusted with the address of Iris. At the same time, Mrs. +Vimpany undertook that he should know what news she received from Paris +as soon as she knew it herself. On that understanding they parted, for +the time being. + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE DOCTOR IN DIFFICULTIES + +SLOWLY the weeks passed. Strictly Mrs. Vimpany kept her promise. + +When she heard from Iris the letter was always sent to Hugh, to be +returned after he had read it. Events in the lives of the newly-married +pair, many of which pointed to the end that Mrs. Vimpany saw and +dreaded, were lightly, sometimes jestingly, related by the young wife. +Her blind belief in her husband, sincerely asserted in the earlier part +of the correspondence, began to betray, in her later letters, signs of +self delusion. It was sad indeed to see that bright intelligence +rendered incapable of conceiving suspicions, which might have occurred +to the mind of a child. + +When the latest news from Paris followed, in due course, Mountjoy was +informed of it by a note from Mrs. Vimpany expressed in these terms: + +"My last letter from Iris is really no letter at all. It simply +encloses a circular, with her love, and asks me to send it on to you. +If it is in your power to make inquiries in the right quarter, I am +sure you will not hesitate to take the trouble. There can be little +doubt, as I think, that Lord Harry is engaged in a hazardous +speculation, more deeply than his wife is willing to acknowledge." + +The circular announced the contemplated publication of a weekly +newspaper, printed partly in English, and partly in French, having its +chief office in Paris, and being intended to dispute the advantages of +a European circulation with the well-known Continental journal called +"Galignani's Messenger." A first list of contributors included names of +some notoriety in the literature of England and the literature of +France. Speculators who wished to know, in the first place, on what +security they might reckon, were referred to the managing committee, +represented by persons of importance in the financial worlds of London +and Paris. + +Being in a position to make the inquiries which Mrs. Vimpany had +suggested, Hugh received information which verified the statements +contained in the circular, and vouched for the good faith of those +persons who were concerned in directing the speculation. So far, so +good. + +But, when the question of success was next discussed, the authorities +consulted shook their wise heads. It was impossible to say what losses +might not be suffered, and what sums of money might not be required, +before the circulation of the new journal would justify the hope of +success. This opinion Hugh communicated to Mrs. Vimpany; Iris was +informed of it by that day's post. + +A longer time than usual elapsed before any further news of Lord Harry +and his wife was received by Mountjoy. When he did at last hear again +from Mrs. Vimpany, she forwarded a letter from Iris dated from a new +address, in the suburb of Paris called Passy. + +From motives of economy (Iris wrote) her husband had decided on a +change of residence. They were just established in their new abode, +with the advantages of a saving in rent, a pretty little garden to +cultivate, and purer air to breathe than the air of Paris. There the +letter ended, without the slightest allusion to the forthcoming +newspaper, or to the opinion that had been pronounced on the prospects +of success. + +In forwarding this letter, Mrs. Vimpany wrote on the blank page as +follows: "I am sorry to add that some disquieting news of my husband +has reached me. For the present, I will say no more. It is at least +possible that the report may not be worthy of belief." + +A few days later the report was confirmed, under circumstances which +had certainly not been foreseen. Mr. Vimpany himself arrived at the +hotel, on a visit to Mountjoy. + +Always more or less superior to the amiable weakness of modesty, the +doctor seemed to have risen higher than ever in his own estimation, +since Hugh had last seen him. He strutted; he stared confidently at +persons and things; authority was in his voice when he spoke, and lofty +indulgence distinguished his manner when he listened. + +"How are you?" he cried with a grand gaiety, as he entered the room. +"Fine weather, isn't it, for the time of year? You don't look well. I +wonder whether you notice any change in me? + +"You seem to be in good spirits," Hugh replied, not very cordially. + +"Do I carry my head high?" Mr. Vimpany went on. "When calamity strikes +at a man, don't let him cringe and cry for pity--let him hit back +again! Those are my principles. Look at me. Now do look at me. Here I +am, a cultivated person, a member of an honourable profession, a man of +art and accomplishment--stripped of every blessed thing belonging to me +but the clothes I stand up in. Give me your hand, Mountjoy. It's the +hand, sir, of a bankrupt." + +"You don't seem to mind it much," Mountjoy remarked. + +"Why should I mind it?" asked the doctor. "There isn't a medical man in +England who has less reason to reproach himself than I have. Have I +wasted money in rash speculations? Not a farthing. Have I been fool +enough to bet at horse races? My worst enemy daren't say it of me. What +have I done then? I have toiled after virtue--that's what I have done. +Oh, there's nothing to laugh at! When a doctor tries to be the medical +friend of humanity; when he only asks leave to cure disease, to soothe +pain, to preserve life--isn't that virtue? And what is my reward? I sit +at home, waiting for my suffering fellow-creatures; and the only +fellow-creatures who come to me are too poor to pay. I have gone my +rounds, calling on the rich patients whom I bought when I bought the +practice. Not one of them wanted me. Men, women, and children, were all +inexcusably healthy--devil take them! Is it wonderful if a man becomes +bankrupt, in such a situation as mine? By Jupiter, I go farther than +that! I say, a man owes it to himself (as a protest against undeserved +neglect) to become a bankrupt. If you will allow me, I'll take a +chair." + +He sat down with an air of impudent independence and looked round the +room. A little cabinet, containing liqueurs, stood open on the +sideboard. Mr. Vimpany got up again. "May I take a friendly liberty?" +he said--and helped himself, without waiting for permission. + +Hugh bore with this, mindful of the mistake that he had committed in +consenting to receive the doctor. At the same time, he was sufficiently +irritated to take a friendly liberty on his side. He crossed the room +to the sideboard, and locked up the liqueurs. Mr. Vimpany's brazen face +flushed deeply (not with shame); he opened his lips to say something +worthy of himself, controlled the impulse, and burst into a boisterous +laugh. He had evidently some favour still to ask. + +"Devilish good!" he broke out cheerfully. "Do you remember the +landlady's claret? Ha! you don't want to tempt me this time. Well! +well! to return to my bankruptcy." + +Hugh had heard enough of his visitor's bankruptcy. "I am not one of +your creditors," he said. + +Mr. Vimpany made a smart reply: "Don't you be too sure of that. Wait a +little." + +"Do you mean," Mountjoy asked, "that you have come here to borrow money +of me?" + +"Time---give me time," the doctor pleaded: "this is not a matter to be +dispatched in a hurry; this is a matter of business. You will hardly +believe it," he resumed, "but I have actually been in my present +position, once before." He looked towards the cabinet of liqueurs. "If +I had the key," he said, "I should like to try a drop more of your good +Curacoa. You don't see it?" + +"I am waiting to hear what your business is," Hugh replied. + +Mr. Vimpany's pliable temper submitted with perfect amiability. "Quite +right," he said; "let us return to business. I am a man who possesses +great fertility of resource. On the last occasion when my creditors +pounced on my property, do you think I was discouraged? Nothing of the +sort! My regular medical practice had broken down under me. Very +well--I tried my luck as a quack. In plain English, I invented a patent +medicine. The one thing wanting was money enough to advertise it. False +friends buttoned up their pockets. You see?" + +"Oh, yes; I see." + +"In that case," Mr. Vimpany continued, "you will not be surprised to +hear that I draw on my resources again. You have no doubt noticed that +we live in an age of amateurs. Amateurs write, paint, compose music, +perform on the stage. I, too, am one of the accomplished persons who +have taken possession of the field of Art. Did you observe the +photographic portraits on the walls of my dining-room? They are of my +doing, sir--whether you observed them or not I am one of the handy +medical men, who can use the photograph. Not that I mention it +generally; the public have got a narrow-minded notion that a doctor +ought to be nothing but a doctor. My name won't appear in a new work +that I am contemplating. Of course, you want to know what my new work +is. I'll tell you, in the strictest confidence. Imagine (if you can) a +series of superb photographs of the most eminent doctors in England, +with memoirs of their lives written by themselves; published once a +month, price half-a-crown. If there isn't money in that idea, there is +no money in anything. Exert yourself, my good friend. Tell me what you +think of it?" + +"I don't understand the subject," Mountjoy replied. "May I ask why you +take _me_ into your confidence?" + +"Because I look upon you as my best friend." + +"You are very good. But surely, Mr. Vimpany, you have older friends in +your circle of acquaintance than I am." + +"Not one," the doctor answered promptly, "whom I trust as I trust you. +Let me give you a proof of it." + +"Is the proof in any way connected with money?" Hugh inquired. + +"I call that hard on me," Mr. Vimpany protested. "No unfriendly +interruptions, Mountjoy! I offer a proof of kindly feeling. Do you mean +to hurt me?" + +"Certainly not. Go on." + +"Thank you; a little encouragement goes a long way with me. I have +found a bookseller, who will publish my contemplated work, on +commission. Not a soul has yet seen the estimate of expenses. I propose +to show it to You." + +"Quite needless, Mr. Vimpany." + +"Why quite needless?" + +"Because I decline lending you the money." + +"No, no, Mountjoy! You can't really mean that?" + +"I do mean it." + +"No!" + +"Yes!" + +The doctor's face showed a sudden change of expression---a sinister and +threatening change. "Don't drive me into a corner," he said. "Think of +it again." + +Hugh's capacity for controlling himself gave way at last. + +"Do you presume to threaten me?" he said. "Understand, if you please, +that my mind is made up, and that nothing you can say or do will alter +it." + +With that declaration he rose from his chair, and waited for Mr. +Vimpany's departure. + +The doctor put on his hat. His eyes rested on Hugh, with a look of +diabolical malice: "The time is not far off, Mr. Mountjoy, when you may +be sorry you refused me." He said those words deliberately--and took +his leave. + +Released from the man's presence, Hugh found himself strangely +associating the interests of Iris with the language--otherwise beneath +notice--which Mr. Vimpany had used on leaving the room. + +In desperate straits for want of money, how would the audacious +bankrupt next attempt to fill his empty purse? If he had, by any +chance, renewed his relations with his Irish friend--and such an event +was at least possible--his next experiment in the art of raising a loan +might take him to Paris. Lord Harry had already ventured on a +speculation which called for an immediate outlay of money, and which +was only expected to put a profit into his pocket at some future +period. In the meanwhile, his resources in money had their limits; and +his current expenses would make imperative demands on an ill-filled +purse. If the temptation to fail in his resolution to respect his +wife's fortune was already trying his fortitude, what better excuse +could be offered for yielding than the necessities of an old friend in +a state of pecuniary distress? + +Looking at the position of Iris, and at the complications which +threatened it, from this point of view, Mountjoy left the hotel to +consult with Mrs. Vimpany. It rested with her to decide whether the +circumstances justified his departure for Paris. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +LONDON AND PARIS + +INFORMED of all that Hugh could tell her relating to his interview with +her husband, Mrs. Vimpany understood and appreciated his fears for the +future. She failed, however, to agree with him that he would do well to +take the journey to France, under present circumstances. + +"Wait a little longer in London," she said. "If Iris doesn't write to +me in the next few days there will be a reason for her silence; and in +that case (as I have already told you) I shall hear from Fanny Mere. +You shall see me when I get a letter from Paris." + +On the last morning in the week, Mrs. Vimpany was announced. The letter +that she brought with her had been written by Fanny Mere. With the pen +in her hand, the maid's remarkable character expressed itself as +strongly as ever:-- + +"Madam,--I said I would let you know what goes on here, when I thought +there was need of it. There seems to be need now. Mr. Vimpany came to +us yesterday. He has the spare bedroom. My mistress says nothing, and +writes nothing. For that reason, I send you the present writing.--Your +humble servant, F." + +Mountjoy was perplexed by this letter, plain as it was. + +"It seems strange," he said, "that Iris herself has not written to you. +She has never hitherto concealed her opinion of Mr. Vimpany." + +"She is concealing it now," Mr. Vimpany's wife replied gravely. + +"Do you know why?" + +"I am afraid I do. Iris will not hesitate at any sacrifice of herself +to please Lord Harry. She will give him her money when he wants it. If +he tells her to alter her opinion of my husband, she will obey him. He +can shake her confidence in me, whenever he pleases; and he has very +likely done it already." + +"Surely it is time for me to go to her now?" Hugh said. + +"Full time," Mrs. Vimpany admitted--"if you can feel sure of yourself. +In the interests of Iris, can you undertake to be cool and careful?" + +"In the interests of Iris, I can undertake anything." + +"One word more," Mrs. Vimpany continued, "before you take your +departure. No matter whether appearances are for him, or against him, +be always on your guard with my husband. Let me hear from you while you +are away; and don't forget that there is an obstacle between you and +Iris, which will put even your patience and devotion to a hard trial." + +"You mean her husband?" + +"I do." + +There was no more to be said, Hugh set forth on his journey to Paris. + + * * * * * * * + +On the morning after his arrival in the French capital, Mountjoy had +two alternatives to consider. He might either write to Iris, and ask +when it would be convenient to her to receive him--or he might present +himself unexpectedly in the cottage at Passy. Reflection convinced him +that his best chance of placing an obstacle in the way of deception +would be to adopt the second alternative, and to take Lord Harry and +the doctor by surprise. + +He went to Passy. The lively French taste had brightened the cottage +with colour: the fair white window curtains were tied with +rose-coloured ribbons, the blinds were gaily painted, the chimneys were +ornamental, the small garden was a paradise of flowers. When Mountjoy +rang the bell, the gate was opened by Fanny Mere. She looked at him in +grave astonishment. + +"Do they expect you?" she asked. + +"Never mind that," Hugh answered. "Are they at home?" + +"They have just finished breakfast, sir." + +"Do you remember my name?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then show me in." + +Fanny opened the door of a room on the ground floor, and announced: +"Mr. Mountjoy." + +The two men were smoking; Iris was watering some flowers in the window. +Her colour instantly faded when Hugh entered the room. In doubt and +alarm, her eyes questioned Lord Harry. He was in his sweetest state of +good-humour. Urged by the genial impulse of the moment, he set the +example of a cordial reception. "This is an agreeable surprise, +indeed," he said, shaking hands with Mountjoy in his easy amiable way. +"It's kind of you to come and see us." Relieved of anxiety (evidently +when she had not expected it), Iris eagerly followed her husband's +example: her face recovered its colour, and brightened with its +prettiest smile. Mr. Vimpany stood in a corner; his cigar went out: his +own wife would hardly have known him again--he actually presented an +appearance of embarrassment! Lord Harry burst out laughing: "Look at +him Iris! The doctor is shy for the first time in his life." The Irish +good-humour was irresistible. The young wife merrily echoed her +husband's laugh. Mr. Vimpany, observing the friendly reception offered +to Hugh, felt the necessity of adapting himself to circumstances. He +came out of his corner with an apology: "Sorry I misbehaved myself, Mr. +Mountjoy, when I called on you in London. Shake hands. No offence--eh?" +Iris, in feverish high spirits, mimicked the doctor's coarse tones when +he repeated his favourite form of excuse. Lord Harry clapped his hands, +delighted with his wife's clever raillery: "Ha! Mr. Mountjoy, you don't +find that her married life has affected her spirits! May I hope that +you have come here to breakfast? The table is ready as you see"---- + +"And I have been taking lessons, Hugh, in French ways of cooking eggs," +Iris added; "pray let me show you what I can do." The doctor chimed in +facetiously: "I'm Lady Harry's medical referee; you'll find her French +delicacies half digested for you, sir, before you can open your mouth: +signed, Clarence Vimpany, member of the College of Surgeons." +Remembering Mrs. Vimpany's caution, Hugh concealed his distrust of this +outbreak of hospitable gaiety, and made his excuses. Lord Harry +followed, with more excuses, on his part. He deplored it--but he was +obliged to go out. Had Mr. Mountjoy met with the new paper which was to +beat "Galiguani" out of the field? The "Continental Herald "--there was +the title. "Forty thousand copies of the first number have just flown +all over Europe; we have our agencies in every town of importance, at +every point of the compass; and, one of the great proprietors, my dear +sir, is the humble individual who now addresses you." His bright eyes +sparkled with boyish pleasure, as he made that announcement of his own +importance. If Mr. Mountjoy would kindly excuse him, he had an +appointment at the office that morning. "Get your hat, Vimpany. The +fact is our friend here carries a case of consumption in his pocket; +consumption of the purse, you understand. I am going to enrol him among +the contributors to the newspaper. A series of articles (between +ourselves) exposing the humbug of physicians, and asserting with fine +satirical emphasis the overstocked state of the medical profession. Ah, +well! you'll be glad (won't you?) to talk over old times with Iris. My +angel, show our good friend the 'Continental Herald,' and mind you keep +him here till we get back. Doctor, look alive! Mr. Mountjoy, au +revoir." They shook hands again heartily. As Mrs. Vimpany had +confessed, there was no resisting the Irish lord. + +But Hugh's strange experience of that morning was not at an end, yet. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE BRIDE AT HOME + +LEFT alone with the woman whose charm still held him to her, cruelly as +she had tried his devotion by her marriage, Mountjoy found the fluent +amiability of the husband imitated by the wife. She, too, when the door +had hardly closed on Lord Harry, was bent on persuading Hugh that her +marriage had been the happiest event of her life. + +"Will you think the worse of me," she began, "if I own that I had +little expectation of seeing you again?" + +"Certainly not, Iris." + +"Consider my situation," she went on. "When I remember how you tried +(oh, conscientiously tried!) to prevent my marriage--how you predicted +the miserable results that would follow, if Harry's life and my life +became one--could I venture to hope that you would come here, and judge +for yourself? Dear and good friend, I have nothing to fear from the +result; your presence was never more welcome to me than it is now!" + +Whether it was attributable to prejudice on Mountjoy's part, or to keen +and just observation, he detected something artificial in the ring of +her enthusiasm; there was not the steady light of truth in her eyes, +which he remembered in the past and better days of their companionship. +He was a little--just a little--irritated. The temptation to remind her +that his distrust of Lord Harry had once been her distrust too, proved +to be more than his frailty could resist. + +"Your memory is generally exact," he said; "but it hardly serves you +now as well as usual." + +"What have I forgotten?" + +"You have forgotten the time, my dear, when your opinion was almost as +strongly against a marriage with Lord Harry as mine." + +Her answer was ready on the instant: "Ah, I didn't know him then as +well as I know him now!" + +Some men, in Mountjoy's position, might have been provoked into hinting +that there were sides to her husband's character which she had probably +not discovered yet. But Hugh's gentle temper--ruffled for a moment +only--had recovered its serenity. Her friend was her true friend still; +he said no more on the subject of her marriage. + +"Old habits are not easily set aside," he reminded her. "I have been so +long accustomed to advise you and help you, that I find myself hoping +there may be some need for my services still. Is there no way in which +I might relieve you of the hateful presence of Mr. Vimpany?" + +"My dear Hugh, I wish you had not mentioned Mr. Vimpany." + +Mountjoy concluded that the subject was disagreeable to her. "After the +opinion of him which you expressed in your letter to me," he said, "I +ought not to have spoken of the doctor. Pray forgive me." + +Iris looked distressed. "Oh, you are quite mistaken! The poor doctor +has been sadly misjudged; and I"--she shook her head, and sighed +penitently--"and, I," she resumed, "am one among other people who have +ignorantly wronged him. Pray consult my husband. Hear what he can tell +you--and you will pity Mr. Vimpany. The newspaper makes such large +demands on our means that we can do little to help him. With your +recommendation he might find some employment." + +"He has already asked me to assist him, Iris; and I have refused. I +can't agree with your change of opinion about Mr. Vimpany." + +"Why not? Is it because he has separated from his wife?" + +"That is one reason, among many others," Mountjoy replied. + +"Indeed, indeed you are wrong! Lord Harry has known Mrs. Vimpany for +years, and he says--I am truly sorry to hear it--that the separation is +her fault." + +Hugh changed the subject again. The purpose which had mainly induced +him to leave England had not been mentioned yet. + +Alluding to the newspaper, and to the heavy pecuniary demands made by +the preliminary expenses of the new journal, he reminded Iris that +their long and intimate friendship permitted him to feel some interest +in her affairs. "I won't venture to express an opinion," he added; "let +me only ask if Lord Harry's investments in this speculation have +compelled him to make some use of your little fortune?" + +"My husband refused to touch my fortune," Iris answered. "But"--She +paused, there. "Do you know how honourably, how nobly, he has behaved?" +she abruptly resumed. "He has insured his life: he has burdened himself +with the payment of a large sum of money every year. And all for me, if +I am so unfortunate (which God forbid!) as to survive him. When a large +share in the newspaper was for sale, do you think I could be ungrateful +enough to let him lose the chance of making our fortune, when the +profits begin to come in? I insisted on advancing the money--we almost +quarrelled about it--but, you know how sweet he is. I said: 'Don't +distress me'; and the dearest of men let me have my own way." + +Mountjoy listened in silence. To have expressed what he felt would have +been only to mortify and offend Iris. Old habit (as he had said) had +made the idea of devoting himself to her interests the uppermost idea +in his mind. He asked if the money had all been spent. Hearing that +some of it was still left, he resolved on making the attempt to secure +the remains of her fortune to herself. + +"Tell me," he said, "have you ever heard of such a thing as buying an +annuity?" + +She knew nothing about it. He carefully explained the method by which a +moderate sum of money might be made to purchase a sufficient income for +life. She offered no objection, when he proposed to write to his lawyer +in London for the necessary particulars. But when he asked her to tell +him what the sum was of which she might be still able to dispose, Iris +hesitated, and made no reply. + +This time, Hugh arrived at the right conclusion. + +It was only too plain to him that what remained of her money +represented an amount so trifling that she was ashamed to mention it. +Of the need for helping her, there could be no doubt now; and, as for +the means, no difficulties presented themselves to Mountjoy--always +excepting the one obstacle likely to be offered by the woman herself. +Experience warned him to approach her delicately, by the indirect way. + +"You know me well enough," he said, "to feel sure that I am incapable +of saying anything which can embarrass you, or cause a moment's +misunderstanding between two old friends. Won't you look at me, Iris, +when I am speaking to you?" + +She still looked away from him. "I am afraid of what you are going to +say to me," she answered coldly. + +"Then let me say it at once. In one of your letters, written long +since--I don't suppose you remember it--you told me that I was an +obstinate man when I once took a thing into my head. You were quite +right. My dear, I have taken it into my head that you will be as ready +as ever to accept my advice, and will leave me (as your man of +business) to buy the annuity"-- + +She stopped him. + +"No," she cried, "I won't hear a word more! Do you think I am +insensible to years of kindness that I have never deserved? Do you +think I forget how nobly you have forgiven me for those cruel refusals +which have saddened your life? Is it possible that you expect me to +borrow money of You?" She started wildly to her feet. "I declare, as +God hears me, I would rather die than take that base, that shameful +advantage of all your goodness to me. The woman never lived who owed so +much to a man, as I owe to you--but not money! Oh, my dear, not money! +not money!" + +He was too deeply touched to be able to speak to her--and she saw it. +"What a wretch I am," she said to herself; "I have made his heart +ache!" + +He heard those words. Still feeling for her--never, never for +himself!--he tried to soothe her. In the passion of her self-reproach, +she refused to hear him. Pacing the room from end to end, she fanned +the fiery emotion that was consuming her. Now, she reviled herself in +language that broke through the restraints by which good breeding sets +its seal on a woman's social rank. And now, again, she lost herself +more miserably still, and yielded with hysteric recklessness to a +bitter outburst of gaiety. + +"If you wish to be married happily," she cried, "never be as fond of +any other woman as you have been of me. We are none of us worth it. +Laugh at us, Hugh--do anything but believe in us. We all lie, my +friend. And I have been lying--shamelessly! shamelessly!" + +He tried to check her. "Don't talk in that way, Iris," he said sternly. + +She laughed at him. "Talk?" she repeated. "It isn't that; it's a +confession." + +"I don't desire to hear your confession." + +"You must hear it--you have drawn it out of me. Come! we'll enjoy my +humiliation together. Contradict every word I said to you about that +brute and blackguard, the doctor--and you will have the truth. What +horrid inconsistency, isn't it? I can't help myself; I am a wretched, +unreasonable creature; I don't know my own mind for two days together, +and all through my husband--I am so fond of him; Harry is delightfully +innocent; he's like a nice boy; he never seemed to think of Mr. +Vimpany, till it was settled between them that the doctor was to come +and stay here----and then he persuaded me--oh, I don't know how!--to +see his friend in quite a new light. I believed him--and I believe him +still--I mean I _would_ believe him, but for you. Will you do me a +favour? I wish you wouldn't look at me with those eyes that won't lie; +I wish you wouldn't speak to me with that voice which finds things out. +Oh, good Heavens, do you suppose I would let you think that my husband +is a bad man, and my marriage an unhappy one? Never! If it turns my +blood to sit and eat at the same table with Mr. Vimpany, I'm not cruel +enough to blame the dear doctor. It's my wickedness that's to blame. We +shall quarrel, if you tell me that Harry is capable of letting a rascal +be his friend. I'm happy; I'm happy; I'm happy!--do you understand +that? Oh, Hugh, I wish you had never come to see me!" + +She burst into a passionate fit of weeping, broken down at last under +the terrible strain laid on her. "Let me hide myself!" was all that +Iris could say to her old friend--before she ran out of the room, and +left him. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE MAID AND THE KEYHOLE + +DEEPLY as she had grieved him, keenly as he felt that his worst fears +for her threatened already to be realised, it was characteristic of +Mountjoy that he still refused to despair of Iris--even with the +husband's influence against him. + +The moral deterioration of her, revealed in the false words that she +had spoken, and in the deceptions that she had attempted, would have +justified the saddest misgivings, but for the voluntary confession +which had followed, and the signs which it had shown of the better +nature still struggling to assert itself. How could Hugh hope to +encourage that effort of resistance to the evil influences that were +threatening her--first and foremost, among them, being the arrival of +Vimpany at the cottage? His presence kept her in a state of perpetual +contention, between her own wise instincts which distrusted him, and +her husband's authoritative assertions which recommended him to her +confidence. No greater service could be rendered to Iris than the +removal of this man--but how could it be accomplished, without giving +offence to her husband? Mountjoy's mind was still in search of a means +of overcoming the obstacle thus presented, when he heard the door open. +Had Iris recovered herself? or had Lord Harry and his friend returned? + +The person who now entered the room was the strange and silent maid, +Fanny Mere. + +"Can I speak to you, sir?" + +"Certainly. What is it?" + +"Please give me your address." + +"For your mistress?" + +"Yes." + +"Does she wish to write to me?" + +"Yes." + +Hugh gave the strange creature the address of his hotel in Paris. For a +moment, her eyes rested on him with an expression of steady scrutiny. +She opened the door to go out---stopped--considered--came back again. + +"I want to speak for myself," she said. "Do you care to hear what a +servant has to say?" + +Mountjoy replied that he was ready to hear what she had to say. She at +once stepped up to him, and addressed him in these words: + +"I think you are fond of my mistress?" + +An ordinary man might have resented the familiar manner in which she +had expressed herself. Mountjoy waited for what was still to come. +Fanny Mere abruptly went on, with a nearer approach to agitation in her +manner than she had shown yet: + +"My mistress took me into her service; she trusted me when other ladies +would have shown me the door. When she sent for me to see her, my +character was lost; I had nobody to feel for me, nobody to help me. She +is the one friend who held out a hand to me. I hate the men; I don't +care for the women. Except one. Being a servant I mustn't say I love +that one. If I was a lady, I don't know that I should say it. Love is +cant; love is rubbish. Tell me one thing. Is the doctor a friend of +yours?" + +"The doctor is nothing of the kind." + +"Perhaps he is your enemy?" + +"I can hardly say that." + +She looked at Hugh discontentedly. "I want to get at it," she said. +"Why can't we understand each other? Will you laugh at me, if I say the +first thing that comes into my head? Are you a good swimmer?" + +An extraordinary question, even from Fanny Mere. It was put +seriously--and seriously Mountjoy answered it. He said that he was +considered to be a good swimmer. + +"Perhaps," she continued, "you have saved people's lives." + +"I have twice been so fortunate as to save lives," he replied. + +"If you saw the doctor drowning, would you save him? _I_ wouldn't!" + +"Do you hate him as bitterly as that?" Hugh asked. + +She passed the question over without notice. "I wish you would help me +to get at it," she persisted. "Suppose you could rid my mistress of +that man by giving him a kick, would you up with your foot and do it?" + +"Yes--with pleasure." + +"Thank you, sir. Now I've got it. Mr. Mountjoy, the doctor is the curse +of my mistress's life. I can't bear to see it. If we are not relieved +of him somehow, I shall do something wrong. When I wait at table, and +see him using his knife, I want to snatch it out of his hand, and stick +it into him. I had a hope that my lord might turn him out of the house +when they quarrelled. My lord is too wicked himself to do it. For the +love of God, sir, help my mistress--or show me the way how!" + +Mountjoy began to be interested. "How do you know," he asked, "that +Lord Harry and the doctor have quarrelled?" + +Without the slightest appearance of embarrassment, Fanny Mere informed +him that she had listened at the door, while her master and his friend +were talking of their secrets. She had also taken an opportunity of +looking through the keyhole. "I suppose, sir," said this curious woman, +still speaking quite respectfully, "you have never tried that way +yourself?" + +"Certainly not!" + +"Wouldn't you do it to serve my mistress?" + +"No." + +"And yet, you're fond of her! You are a merciful one--the only merciful +one, so far as I know--among men. Perhaps, if you were frightened about +her, you might be more ready with your help. I wonder whether I can +frighten you? Will you let me try?" + +The woman's faithful attachment to Iris pleaded for her with Hugh. +"Try, if you like," he said kindly. + +Speaking as seriously as ever, Fanny proceeded to describe her +experience at the keyhole. What she had seen was not worth relating. +What she had heard proved to be more important. + +The talk between my lord and the doctor had been about raising money. +They had different notions of how to do that. My lord's plan was to +borrow what was wanted, on his life-insurance. The doctor told him he +couldn't do that, till his insurance had been going on for three or +four years at least. "I have something better and bolder to propose," +says Mr. Vimpany. It must have been also something wicked--for he +whispered it in the master's ear. My lord didn't take to it kindly. +"How do you think I could face my wife," he says, "if she discovered +me?" The doctor says: "Don't be afraid of your wife; Lady Harry will +get used to many things which she little thought of before she married +you." Says my lord to that: "I have done my best, Vimpany, to improve +my wife's opinion of you. If you say much more, I shall come round to +her way of thinking. Drop it!"--"All right," says the doctor, "I'll +drop it now, and wait to pick it up again till you come to your last +bank note." There the talk ended for that day---and Fanny would be glad +to know what Mr. Mountjoy thought of it. + +"I think you have done me a service," Hugh replied. + +"Tell me how, sir." + +"I can only tell you this, Fanny. You have shown me how to relieve your +mistress of the doctor." + +For the first time, the maid's impenetrable composure completely failed +her. The smouldering fire in Fanny Mere flamed up. She impulsively +kissed Mountjoy's hand. The moment her lips touched it she shrank back: +the natural pallor of her face became whiter than ever. Startled by the +sudden change, Hugh asked if she was ill. + +She shook her head. + +"It isn't that. Yours is the first man's hand I have kissed, since--" +She checked herself. "I beg you won't ask me about it. I only meant to +thank you, sir; I do thank you with all my heart--I mustn't stay here +any longer." + +As she spoke the sound of a key was heard, opening the lock of the +cottage-door. Lord Harry had returned. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE CONQUEST OF MR. VIMPANY + +THE Irish lord came in--with his medical friend sulkily in attendance +on him. He looked at Fanny, and asked where her mistress was. + +"My lady is in her room, sir." + +Hearing this, he turned sharply to Mountjoy. On the point of speaking, +he seemed to think better of it, and went to his wife's room. The maid +followed. "Get rid of him now," she whispered to Hugh, glancing at the +doctor. Mr. Vimpany was in no very approachable humour--standing at the +window, with his hands in his empty pockets, gloomily looking out. But +Hugh was not disposed to neglect the opportunity; he ventured to say: +"You don't seem to be in such good spirits as usual." + +The doctor gruffly expressed his opinion that Mr. Mountjoy would not be +particularly cheerful, in his place. My lord had taken him to the +office, on the distinct understanding that he was to earn a little +pocket-money by becoming one of the contributors to the newspaper. And +how had it ended? The editor had declared that his list of writers was +full, and begged leave to suggest that Mr. Vimpany should wait for the +next vacancy. A most impertinent proposal! Had Lord Harry--a +proprietor, remember--exerted his authority? Not he! His lordship had +dropped the doctor "like a hot potato," and had meanly submitted to his +own servant. What did Mr. Mountjoy think of such conduct as that? + +Hugh answered the question, with his own end in view. Paving the way +for Mr. Vimpany's departure from the cottage at Passy, he made a polite +offer of his services. + +"Can't I help you out of your difficulty?" he said. + +"You!" cried the doctor. "Have you forgotten how you received me, sir, +when I asked for a loan at your hotel in London?" + +Hugh admitted that he might have spoken hastily. "You took me by +surprise," he said, "and (perhaps I was mistaken, on my side) I thought +you were, to say the least of it, not particularly civil. You did +certainly use threatening language when you left me. No man likes to be +treated in that way." + +Mr. Vimpany's big bold eyes stared at Mountjoy in a state of +bewilderment. "Are you trying to make a fool of me?" he asked. + +"I am incapable, Mr. Vimpany, of an act of rudeness towards anybody." + +"If you come to that," the doctor stoutly declared, "I am incapable +too. It's plain to me that we have been misunderstanding each other. +Wait a bit; I want to go back for a moment to that threatening language +which you complained of just now. I was sorry for what I had said as +soon as your door was shut on me. On my way downstairs I did think of +turning back and making a friendly apology before I gave you up. +Suppose I had done that?" Mr. Vimpany asked, wondering internally +whether Mountjoy was foolish enough to believe him. + +Hugh advanced a little nearer to the design that he had in view. + +"You might have found me more kindly disposed towards you," he said, +"than you had anticipated." + +This encouraging reply cost him an effort. He had stooped to the +unworthy practice of perverting what he had said and done on a former +occasion, to serve a present interest. Remind himself as he might of +the end which, in the interests of Iris, did really appear to justify +the means, he still sank to a place in his own estimation which he was +honestly ashamed to occupy. + +Under other circumstances his hesitation, slight as it was, might have +excited suspicion. As things were, Mr. Vimpany could only discover +golden possibilities that dazzled his eyes. "I wonder whether you're in +the humour," he said, "to be kindly disposed towards me now?" + +It was needless to be careful of the feelings of such man as this. +"Suppose you had the money you want in your pocket," Hugh suggested, +"what would you do with it?" + +"Go back to London, to be sure, and publish the first number of that +work of mine I told you of." + +"And leave your friend, Lord Harry?" + +"What good is my friend to me? He's nearly as poor as I am--he sent for +me to advise him--I put him up to a way of filling both our pockets, +and he wouldn't hear of it. What sort of a friend do you call that?" + +Pay him and get rid of him. There was the course of proceeding +suggested by the private counsellor in Mountjoy's bosom. + +"Have you got the publisher's estimate of expenses?" he asked. + +The doctor instantly produced the document. + +To a rich man the sum required was, after all, trifling enough. +Mountjoy sat down at the writing-table. As he took up a pen, Mr. +Vimpany's protuberant eyes looked as if they would fly out of his head. + +"If I lend you the money--" Hugh began. + +"Yes? Yes?" cried the doctor. + +"I do so on condition that nobody is to know of the loan but +ourselves." + +"Oh, sir, on my sacred word of honour--" An order on Mountjoy's bankers +in Paris for the necessary amount, with something added for travelling +expenses, checked Mr. Vimpany in full career of protestation. He tried +to begin again: "My friend! my benefactor--" + +He was stopped once more. His friend and benefactor pointed to the +clock. + +"If you want the money to-day, you have just time to get to Paris +before the bank closes." + +Mr. Vimpany did want the money--always wanted the money; his gratitude +burst out for the third time: "God bless you!" + +The object of that highly original form of benediction pointed through +the window in the direction of the railway station. Mr. Vimpany +struggled no longer to express his feelings--he had made his last +sacrifice to appearances--he caught the train. + +The door of the room had been left open. A voice outside said: "Has he +gone?" + +"Come in, Fanny," said Mountjoy. "He will return to London either +to-night or to-morrow morning." + +The strange maid put her head in at the door. "I'll be at the +terminus," she said, "and make sure of him." + +Her head suddenly disappeared, before it was possible to speak to her +again. "Was there some other person outside? The other person entered +the room; it was Lord Harry. He spoke without his customary smile. + +"I want a word with you, Mr. Mountjoy." + +"About what, my lord?" + +That direct question seemed to confuse the Irishman. He hesitated. + +"About you," he said, and stopped to consider. "And another person," he +added mysteriously. + +Hugh was constitutionally a hater of mysteries. He felt the need of a +more definite reply, and asked for it plainly: + +"Does your lordship associate that other person with me?" + +"Yes, I do." + +"Who is the person?" + +"My wife." + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +SAXON AND CELT + +WHEN amicable relations between two men happen to be in jeopardy, there +is least danger of an ensuing quarrel if the friendly intercourse has +been of artificial growth, on either side. In this case, the promptings +of self-interest, and the laws of politeness, have been animating +influences throughout; acting under conditions which assist the effort +of self-control. And for this reason: the man who has never really +taken a high place in our regard is unprovided with those sharpest +weapons of provocation, which make unendurable demands on human +fortitude. In a true attachment, on the other hand, there is an +innocent familiarity implied, which is forgetful of ceremony, and blind +to consequences. The affectionate freedom which can speak kindly +without effort is sensitive to offence, and can speak harshly without +restraint. When the friend who wounds us has once been associated with +the sacred memories of the heart, he strikes at a tender place, and no +considerations of propriety are powerful enough to stifle our cry of +rage and pain. The enemies who have once loved each other are the +bitterest enemies of all. + +Thus, the curt exchange of question and answer, which had taken place +in the cottage at Passy, between two gentlemen artificially friendly to +one another, led to no regrettable result. Lord Harry had been too +readily angry: he remembered what was due to Mr. Mountjoy. Mr. Mountjoy +had been too thoughtlessly abrupt: he remembered what was due to Lord +Harry. The courteous Irishman bowed, and pointed to a chair. The +well-bred Englishman returned the polite salute, and sat down. My lord +broke the silence that followed. + +"May I hope that you will excuse me," he began, "if I walk about the +room? Movement seems to help me when I am puzzled how to put things +nicely. Sometimes I go round and round the subject, before I get at it. +I'm afraid I'm going round and round, now. Have you arranged to make a +long stay in Paris?" + +Circumstances, Mountjoy answered, would probably decide him. + +"You have no doubt been many times in Paris before this," Lord Harry +continued. "Do you find it at all dull, now?" + +Wondering what he could possibly mean, Hugh said he never found Paris +dull--and waited for further enlightenment. The Irish lord persisted: + +"People mostly think Paris isn't as gay as it used to be. Not such good +plays and such good actors as they had at one time. The restaurants +inferior, and society very much mixed. People don't stay there as long +as they used. I'm told that Americans are getting disappointed, and are +trying London for a change." + +Could he have any serious motive for this irrelevant way of talking? Or +was he, to judge by his own account of himself, going round and round +the subject of his wife and his guest, before he could get at it? + +Suspecting him of jealousy from the first, Hugh failed--naturally +perhaps in his position--to understand the regard for Iris, and the +fear of offending her, by which her jealous husband was restrained. +Lord Harry was attempting (awkwardly indeed!) to break off the +relations between his wife and her friend, by means which might keep +the true state of his feelings concealed from both of them. Ignorant of +this claim on his forbearance, it was Mountjoy's impression that he was +being trifled with. Once more, he waited for enlightenment, and waited +in silence. + +"You don't find my conversation interesting?" Lord Harry remarked, +still with perfect good-humour. + +"I fail to see the connection," Mountjoy acknowledged, "between what +you have said so far, and the subject on which you expressed your +intention of speaking to me. Pray forgive me if I appear to hurry +you--or if you have any reasons for hesitation." + +Far from being offended, this incomprehensible man really appeared to +be pleased. "You read me like a book!" he exclaimed. "It's hesitation +that's the matter with me. I'm a variable man. If there's something +disagreeable to say, there are times when I dash at it, and times when +I hang back. Can I offer you any refreshment?" he asked, getting away +from the subject again, without so much as an attempt at concealment. + +Hugh thanked him, and declined. + +"Not even a glass of wine? Such white Burgundy, my dear sir, as you +seldom taste." + +Hugh's British obstinacy was roused; he repeated his reply. Lord Harry +looked at him gravely, and made a nearer approach to an open confession +of feeling than he had ventured on yet. + +"With regard now to my wife. When I went away this morning with +Vimpany--he's not such good company as he used to be; soured by +misfortune, poor devil; I wish he would go back to London. As I was +saying--I mean as I was about to say--I left you and Lady Harry +together this morning; two old friends, glad (as I supposed) to have a +gossip about old times. When I come back, I find you left here alone, +and I am told that Lady Harry is in her room. What do I see when I get +there? I see the finest pair of eyes in the world; and the tale they +tell me is, We have been crying. When I ask what may have happened to +account for this--'Nothing, dear,' is all the answer I get. What's the +impression naturally produced on my mind? There has been a quarrel +perhaps between you and my wife." + +"I fail entirely, Lord Harry, to see it in that light." + +"Ah, likely enough! Mine's the Irish point of view. As an Englishman +you fail to understand it. Let that be. One thing; Mr. Mountjoy, I'll +take the freedom of saying at once. I'll thank you, next time, to +quarrel with Me." + +"You force me to tell you, my lord, that you are under a complete +delusion, if you suppose that there has been any quarrel, or approach +to a quarrel, between Lady Harry and myself." + +"You tell me that, on your word of honour as a gentleman?" + +"Most assuredly!" + +"Sir! I deeply regret to hear it." + +"Which does your lordship deeply regret? That I have spoken to you on +my word of honour, or that I have not quarrelled with Lady Harry?" + +"Both, sir! By the piper that played before Moses, both!" + +Hugh got up, and took his hat: "We may have a better chance of +understanding each other," he suggested, "if you will be so good as to +write to me." + +"Put your hat down again, Mr. Mountjoy, and pray have a moment's +patience. I've tried to like you, sir--and I'm bound in candour to own +that I've failed to find a bond of union between us. Maybe, this frank +confession annoys you." + +"Far from it! You are going straight to your subject at last, if I may +venture to say so." + +The Irish lord's good-humour had completely disappeared by this time. +His handsome face hardened, and his voice rose. The outbreak of jealous +feeling, which motives honourable to himself had hitherto controlled, +now seized on its freedom of expression. His language betrayed (as on +some former occasions) that association with unworthy companions, which +had been one of the evil results of his adventurous life. + +"Maybe I'll go straighter than you bargain for," he replied; "I'm in +two humours about you. My common-sense tells me that you're my wife's +friend. And the best of friends do sometimes quarrel, don't they? Well, +sir, you deny it, on your own account. I find myself forced back on my +other humour--and it's a black humour, I can tell you. You may be my +wife's friend, my fine fellow, but you're something more than that. You +have always been in love with her--and you're in love with her now. +Thank you for your visit, but don't repeat it. Say! do we understand +each other at last?" + +"I have too sincere a respect for Lady Harry to answer you," Mountjoy +said. "At the same time, let me acknowledge my obligations to your +lordship. You have reminded me that I did a foolish thing when I called +here without an invitation. I agree with you that the sooner my mistake +is set right the better." + +He replied in those words, and left the cottage. + +On the way back to his hotel, Hugh thought of what Mrs. Vimpany had +said to him when they had last seen each other: "Don't forget that +there is an obstacle between you and Iris which will put even your +patience and your devotion to a hard trial." The obstacle of the +husband had set itself up, and had stopped him already. + +His own act (a necessary act after the language that had been addressed +to him) had closed the doors of the cottage, and had put an end to +future meetings between Iris and himself. If they attempted to +communicate by letter, Lord Harry would have opportunities of +discovering their correspondence, of which his jealousy would certainly +avail itself. Through the wakeful night, Hugh's helpless situation was +perpetually in his thoughts. There seemed to be no present alternative +before him but resignation, and a return to England. + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS + +ON the next day Mountjoy heard news of Iris, which was not of a nature +to relieve his anxieties. He received a visit from Fanny Mere. + +The leave-taking of Mr. Vimpany, on the previous evening, was the first +event which the maid had to relate. She had been present when the +doctor said good-bye to the master and mistress. Business in London was +the reason he gave for going away. The master had taken the excuse as +if he really believed in it, and seemed to be glad to get rid of his +friend. The mistress expressed her opinion that Mr. Vimpany's return to +London must have been brought about by an act of liberality on the part +of the most generous of living men. _"Your_ friend has, as I believe, +got some money from _my_ friend," she said to her husband. My lord had +looked at her very strangely when she spoke of Mr. Mountjoy in that +way, and had walked out of the room. As soon as his back was turned, +Fanny had obtained leave of absence. She had carried out her intention +of watching the terminus, and had seen Mr. Vimpany take his place among +the passengers to London by the mail train. + +Returning to the cottage, it was Fanny's duty to ascertain if her +services were required in her mistress's room. + +On reaching the door, she had heard the voices of my lord and my lady, +and (as Mr. Mountjoy would perhaps be pleased to know) had been too +honourable to listen outside, on this occasion. She had at once gone +away, and had waited until she should be sent for. After a long +interval, the bell that summoned her had been rung. She had found the +mistress in a state of agitation, partly angry, and partly distressed; +and had ventured to ask if anything unpleasant had happened. No reply +was made to that inquiry. Fanny had silently performed the customary +duties of the night-toilet, in getting my lady ready for bed; they had +said good-night to each other and had said no more. + +In the morning (that present morning), being again in attendance as +usual, the maid had found Lady Harry in a more indulgent frame of mind; +still troubled by anxieties, but willing to speak of them now. + +She had begun by talking of Mr. Mountjoy: + +"I think you like him, Fanny: everybody likes him. You will be sorry to +hear that we have no prospect of seeing him again at the cottage." +There she had stopped; something that she had not said, yet, seemed to +be in her mind, and to trouble her. She was near to crying, poor soul, +but struggled against it. "I have no sister," she said, "and no friend +who might be like a sister to me. It isn't perhaps quite right to speak +of my sorrow to my maid. Still, there is something hard to bear in +having no kind heart near one--I mean, no other woman to speak to who +knows what women feel. It is so lonely here--oh, so lonely! I wonder +whether you understand me and pity me?" Never forgetting all that she +owed to her mistress--if she might say so without seeming to praise +herself--Fanny was truly sorry. It would have been a relief to her, if +she could have freely expressed her opinion that my lord must be to +blame, when my lady was in trouble. Being a man, he was by nature cruel +to women; the wisest thing his poor wife could do would be to expect +nothing from him. The maid was sorely tempted to offer a little good +advice to this effect; but she was afraid of her own remembrances, if +she encouraged them by speaking out boldly. It would be better to wait +for what the mistress might say next. + +Lord Harry's conduct was the first subject that presented itself when +the conversation was resumed. + +My lady mentioned that she had noticed how he looked, and how he left +the room, when she had spoken in praise of Mr. Mountjoy. She had +pressed him to explain himself---and she had made a discovery which +proved to be the bitterest disappointment of her life. Her husband +suspected her! Her husband was jealous of her! It was too cruel; it was +an insult beyond endurance, an insult to Mr. Mountjoy as well as to +herself. If that best and dearest of good friends was to be forbidden +the house, if he was to go away and never to see her or speak to her +again, of one thing she was determined--he should not leave her without +a kind word of farewell; he should hear how truly she valued him; yes, +and how she admired and felt for him! Would Fanny not do the same +thing, in her place? And Fanny had remembered the time when she might +have done it for such a man as Mr. Mountjoy. "Mind you stay indoors +this evening, sir," the maid continued, looking and speaking so +excitedly that Hugh hardly knew her again. "My mistress is coming to +see you, and I shall come with her." + +Such an act of imprudence was incredible. "You must be out of your +senses!" Mountjoy exclaimed. + +"I'm out of myself sir, if that's what you mean," Fanny answered. "I do +so enjoy treating a man in that way! The master's going out to +dinner--he'll know nothing about it--and," cried the cool cold woman of +other times, "he richly deserves it." + +Hugh reasoned and remonstrated, and failed to produce the slightest +effect. + +His next effort was to write a few lines to Lady Harry, entreating her +to remember that a jealous man is sometimes capable of acts of the +meanest duplicity, and that she might be watched. When he gave the note +to Fanny to deliver, she informed him respectfully that he had better +not trust her. A person sometimes meant to do right (she reminded him), +and sometimes ended in doing wrong. Rather than disappoint her +mistress, she was quite capable of tearing up the letter, on her way +home, and saying nothing about it. Hugh tried a threat next: "Your +mistress will not find me, if she comes here; I shall go out to-night." +The impenetrable maid looked at him with a pitying smile, and answered: + +"Not you!" + +It was a humiliating reflection--but Fanny Mere understood him better +than he understood himself. + +All that Mountjoy had said and done in the way of protest, had been +really dictated by consideration for the young wife. If he questioned +his conscience, selfish delight in the happy prospect of seeing Iris +again asserted itself, as the only view with which he looked forward to +the end of the day. When the evening approached, he took the precaution +of having his own discreet and faithful servant in attendance, to +receive Lady Harry at the door of the hotel, before the ringing of the +bell could summon the porter from his lodge. On calm consideration, the +chances seemed to be in favour of her escaping detection by Lord Harry. +The jealous husband of the stage, who sooner (or later) discovers the +innocent (or guilty) couple, as the case may be, is not always the +husband of the world outside the theatre. With this fragment of +experience present in his mind, Hugh saw the door of his sitting-room +cautiously opened, at an earlier hour than he had anticipated. His +trustworthy representative introduced a lady, closely veiled--and that +lady was Iris. + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +GOOD-BYE TO IRIS + +LADY HARRY lifted her veil, and looked at Mountjoy with sad entreaty in +her eyes. "Are you angry with me?" she asked. + +"I ought to be angry with you," he said. "This is a very imprudent, +Iris." + +"It's worse than that," she confessed. "It's reckless and desperate. +Don't say I ought to have controlled myself. I can't control the shame +I feel when I think of what has happened. Can I let you go--oh, what a +return for your kindness!--without taking your hand at parting? Come +and sit by me on the sofa. After my poor husband's conduct, you and I +are not likely to meet again. I don't expect you to lament it as I do. +Even your sweetness and your patience--so often tried--must be weary of +me now." + +"If you thought that possible, my dear, you would not have come here +to-night," Hugh reminded her. "While we live, we have the hope of +meeting again. Nothing in this world lasts, Iris--not even jealousy. +Lord Harry himself told me that he was a variable man. Sooner or later +he will come to his senses." + +Those words seemed to startle Iris. "I hope you don't think that my +husband is brutal to me!" she exclaimed, still resenting even the +appearance of a reflection on her marriage, and still forgetting what +she herself had said which justified a doubt of her happiness. "Have +you formed a wrong impression?" she went on. "Has Fanny Mere +innocently--?" + +Mountjoy noticed, for the first time, the absence of the maid. It was a +circumstance which justified him in interrupting Iris--for it might +seriously affect her if her visit to the hotel happened to be +discovered. + +"I understood," he said, "that Fanny was to come here with you." + +"Yes! yes! She is waiting in the carriage. We are careful not to excite +attention at the door of the hotel; the coachman will drive up and down +the street till I want him again. Never mind that! I have something to +say to you about Fanny. She thinks of her own troubles, poor soul, when +she talks to me, and exaggerates a little without meaning it. I hope +she has not misled you in speaking of her master. It is base and bad of +him, unworthy of a gentleman, to be jealous--and he has wounded me +deeply. But dear Hugh, his jealousy is a gentle jealousy. I have heard +of other men who watch their wives--who have lost all confidence in +them--who would even have taken away from me such a trifle as this." +She smiled, and showed to Mountjoy her duplicate key of the cottage +door. "Ah, Harry is above such degrading distrust as that! There are +times when he is as heartily ashamed of his own weakness as I could +wish him to be. I have seen him on his knees before me, shocked at his +conduct. He is no hypocrite. Indeed, his repentance is sincere, while +it lasts--only it doesn't last! His jealousy rises and falls, like the +wind. He said last night (when the wind was high): 'If you wish to make +me the happiest creature on the face of the earth, don't encourage Mr. +Mountjoy to remain in Paris!' Try to make allowances for him!" + +"I would rather make allowances, Iris, for you. Do _you,_ too wish me +to leave Paris?" + +Sitting very near to him--nearer than her husband might have liked to +see--Iris drew away a little. "Did you mean to be cruel in saying +that?" she asked. "I don't deserve it." + +"It was kindly meant," Hugh assured her. "If I can make your position +more endurable by going away, I will leave Paris to-morrow." + +Iris moved back again to the place which she had already occupied. She +was eager to thank him (for a reason not yet mentioned) as she had +never thanked him yet. Silently and softly she offered her gratitude to +Hugh, by offering her cheek. The irritating influence of Lord Harry's +jealousy was felt by both of them at that moment. He kissed her +cheek--and lingered over it. She was the first to recover herself. + +"When you spoke just now of my position with my husband," she said, +"you reminded me of anxieties, Hugh, in which you once shared, and of +services which I can never forget." + +Preparing him in those words for the disclosure which she had now to +make, Iris alluded to the vagabond life of adventure which Lord Harry +had led. The restlessness in his nature which that life implied, had +latterly shown itself again; and his wife had traced the cause to a +letter from Ireland, communicating a report that the assassin of Arthur +Mountjoy had been seen in London, and was supposed to be passing under +the name of Carrigeen. Hugh would understand that the desperate +resolution to revenge the murder of his friend, with which Lord Harry +had left England in the past time, had been urged into action once +more. He had not concealed from Iris that she must be resigned to his +leaving her for awhile, if the report which had reached him from +Ireland proved to be true. It would be useless, and worse than useless, +to remind this reckless man of the danger that threatened him from the +Invincibles, if he returned to England. In using her power of +influencing the husband who still loved her, Iris could only hope to +exercise a salutary restraint in her own domestic interests, appealing +to him for indulgence by careful submission to any exactions on which +his capricious jealousy might insist. Would sad necessity excuse her, +if she accepted Mountjoy's offer to leave Paris, for the one reason +that her husband had asked it of her as a favour? + +Hugh at once understood her motive, and assured her of his sympathy. + +"You may depend upon my returning to London to-morrow," he said. "In +the meantime, is there no better way in which I can be of use to you? +If your influence fails, do you see any other chance of keeping Lord +Harry's desperate purpose under control?" + +It had only that day occurred to Iris that there might be some prospect +of an encouraging result, if she could obtain the assistance of Mrs. +Vimpany. + +The doctor's wife was well acquainted with Lord Harry's past life, when +he happened to be in Ireland; and she had met many of his countrymen +with whom he had associated. If one of those friends happened to be the +officious person who had written to him, it was at least possible that +Mrs. Vimpany's discreet interference might prevent his mischievous +correspondent from writing again. Lord Harry, waiting for more news, +would in this event wait in vain. He would not know where to go, or +what to do next--and, with such a nature as his, the end of his +patience and the end of his resolution were likely to come together. + +Hugh handed his pocket-book to Iris. Of the poor chances in her favour, +the last was to his mind the least hopeless of the two. + +"If you have discovered the name of your husband's correspondent," he +said, "write it down for me, and I will ask Mrs. Vimpany if she knows +him. I will make your excuses for not having written to her lately; +and, in any case, I answer for her being ready to help you." + +As Iris thanked him and wrote the name, the clock on the chimneypiece +struck the hour. + +She rose to say farewell. With a restless hand she half-lowered her +veil, and raised it again. "You won't mind my crying," she said +faintly, trying to smile through her tears. "This is the saddest +parting I have ever known. Dear, dear Hugh--good-bye!" + +Great is the law of Duty; but the elder law of Love claims its higher +right. Never, in all the years of their friendship, had they forgotten +themselves as they forgot themselves now. For the first time her lips +met his lips, in their farewell kiss. In a moment more, they remembered +the restraints which honour imposed on them; they were only friends +again. Silently she lowered her veil. Silently he took her arm and led +her down to the carriage. It was moving away from them at a slow pace, +towards the other end of the street. Instead of waiting for its return, +they followed and overtook it. + +"We shall meet again," he whispered. + +She answered sadly: "Don't forget me." + +Mountjoy turned back. As he approached the hotel he noticed a tall man +crossing from the opposite side of the street. Not two minutes after +Iris was on her way home, her jealous husband and her old friend met at +the hotel door. + +Lord Harry spoke first. "I have been dining out," he said, "and I came +here to have a word with you, Mr. Mountjoy, on my road home." + +Hugh answered with formal politeness: "Let me show your lordship the +way to my rooms." + +"Oh, it's needless to trouble you," Lord Harry declared. "I have so +little to say--do you mind walking on with me for a few minutes?" + +Mountjoy silently complied. He was thinking of what might have happened +if Iris had delayed her departure--or if the movement of the carriage +had been towards, instead of away from the hotel. In either case it had +been a narrow escape for the wife, from a dramatic discovery by the +husband. + +"We Irishmen," Lord Harry resumed, "are not famous for always obeying +the laws; but it is in our natures to respect the law of hospitality. +When you were at the cottage yesterday I was inhospitable to my guest. +My rude behaviour has weighed on my mind since--and for that reason I +have come here to speak to you. It was ill-bred on my part to reproach +you with your visit, and to forbid you (oh, quite needlessly, I don't +doubt!) to call on me again. If I own that I have no desire to propose +a renewal of friendly intercourse between us, you will understand me, I +am sure; with my way of thinking, the less we see of each other for the +future, the better it may be. But, for what I said when my temper ran +away with me, I ask you to accept my excuses, and the sincere +expression of my regret." + +"Your excuses are accepted, my lord, as sincerely as you have offered +them," Mountjoy answered. "So far as I am concerned, the incident is +forgotten from this moment." + +Lord Harry expressed his courteous acknowledgments. "Spoken as becomes +a gentleman," he said. "I thank you." + +There it ended. They saluted each other; they wished each other +good-night. "A mere formality!" Hugh thought, when they had parted. + +He had wronged the Irish lord in arriving at that conclusion. But time +was to pass before events helped him to discover his error. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +THE DECREE OF FATE + +ON his arrival in London, Mountjoy went to the Nurses' Institute to +inquire for Mrs. Vimpany. + +She was again absent, in attendance on another patient. The address of +the house (known only to the matron) was, on this occasion, not to be +communicated to any friend who might make inquiries. A bad case of +scarlet fever had been placed under the nurse's care, and the danger of +contagion was too serious to be trifled with. + +The events which had led to Mrs. Vimpany's present employment had not +occurred in the customary course. + +A nurse who had recently joined the Institute had been first engaged to +undertake the case, at the express request of the suffering person--who +was said to be distantly related to the young woman. On the morning +when she was about to proceed to the scene of her labours, news had +reached her of the dangerous illness of her mother. Mrs. Vimpany, who +was free at the time, and who felt a friendly interest in her young +colleague, volunteered to take her place. Upon this, a strange request +had been addressed to the matron, on behalf of the sick man. He desired +to be "informed of it, if the new nurse was an Irishwoman." Hearing +that she was an Englishwoman, he at once accepted her services, being +himself (as an additional element of mystery in the matter) an +Irishman! + +The matron's English prejudices at once assumed that there had been +some discreditable event in the man's life, which might be made a +subject of scandalous exposure if he was attended by one of his own +countrypeople. She advised Mrs. Vimpany to have nothing to do with the +afflicted stranger. The nurse answered that she had promised to attend +on him--and she kept her promise. + +Mountjoy left the Institute, after vainly attempting to obtain Mrs. +Vimpany's address. The one concession which the matron offered to make +was to direct his letter, and send it to the post, if he would be +content with that form of communication. + +On reflection, he decided to write the letter. + +Prompt employment of time might be of importance, if it was possible to +prevent any further communication with Lord Larry on the part of his +Irish correspondent. Using the name with which Iris had provided him, +Hugh wrote to inquire if it was familiar to Mrs. Vimpany, as the name +of a person with whom she had been, at any time, acquainted. In this +event, he assured her that an immediate consultation between them was +absolutely necessary in the interests of Iris. He added, in a +postscript, that he was in perfect health, and that he had no fear of +infection--and sent his letter to the matron to be forwarded. + +The reply reached him late in the evening. It was in the handwriting of +a stranger, and was to this effect: + +"Dear Mr. Mountjoy,--It is impossible that I can allow you to run the +risk of seeing me while I am in my present situation. So serious is the +danger of contagion in scarlet fever, that I dare not even write to you +with my own hand on note-paper which has been used in the sick room. +This is no mere fancy of mine; the doctor in attendance here knows of a +case in which a small piece of infected flannel communicated the +disease after an interval of no less than a year. I must trust to your +own good sense to see the necessity of waiting, until I can receive you +without any fear of consequences to yourself. In the meantime, I may +answer your inquiry relating to the name communicated in your letter. I +first knew the gentleman you mention some years since; we were +introduced to each other by Lord Harry; and I saw him afterwards on +more than one occasion." + +Mountjoy read this wise and considerate reply to his letter with +indignation. + +Here was the good fortune for which he had not dared to hope, declaring +itself in favour of Iris. Here (if Mrs. Vimpany could be persuaded to +write to her friend) was the opportunity offered of keeping the +hot-tempered Irish husband passive and harmless, by keeping him without +further news of the assassin of Arthur Mountjoy. Under these +encouraging circumstances the proposed consultation which might have +produced such excellent results had been rejected; thanks to a +contemptible fear of infection, excited by a story of a trumpery piece +of flannel! + +Hugh snatched up the unfortunate letter (cast away on the floor) to +tear it in pieces and throw it into the waste-paper basket--and checked +himself. His angry hand had seized on it with the blank leaf of the +note-paper uppermost. + +On that leaf he discovered two little lines of print, presenting, in +the customary form, the address of the house at which the letter had +been written! The writer, in taking the sheet of paper from the case, +must have accidentally turned it wrong side uppermost on the desk, and +had not cared to re-copy the letter, or had not discovered the mistake. +Restored to his best good-humour, Hugh resolved to surprise Mrs. +Vimpany by a visit, on the next day, which would set the theory of +contagion at defiance, and render valuable service to Iris at a crisis +in her life. + +Having time before him for reflection, in the course of the evening, he +was at no loss to discover a formidable obstacle in the way of his +design. + +Whether he gave his name or concealed his name, when he asked for Mrs. +Vimpany at the house-door, she would in either case refuse to see him. +The one accessible person whom he could consult in this difficulty was +his faithful old servant. + +That experienced man--formerly employed, at various times, in the army, +in the police, and in service at a public school--obtained leave to +make some preliminary investigations on the next morning. + +He achieved two important discoveries. In the first place, Mrs. Vimpany +was living in the house in which the letter to his master had been +written. In the second place, there was a page attached to the domestic +establishment (already under notice to leave his situation), who was +accessible to corruption by means of a bribe. The boy would be on the +watch for Mr. Mountjoy at two o'clock on that day, and would show him +where to find Mrs. Vimpany, in the room near the sick man, in which she +was accustomed to take her meals. + +Hugh acted on his instructions, and found the page waiting to admit him +secretly to the house. Leading the way upstairs, the boy pointed with +one hand to a door on the second floor, and held out the other hand to +receive his money. While he pocketed the bribe, and disappeared, +Mountjoy opened the door. + +Mrs. Vimpany was seated at a table waiting for her dinner. When Hugh +showed himself she started to her feet with a cry of alarm. + +"Are you mad?" she exclaimed. "How did you get here? What do you want +here? Don't come near me!" + +She attempted to pass Hugh on her way out of the room. He caught her by +the arm, led her back to her chair, and forced her to seat herself +again. "Iris is in trouble," he pleaded, "and you can help her." + +"The fever!" she cried, heedless of what he had said. "Keep back from +me--the fever!" + +For the second time she tried to get out of the room. For the second +time Hugh stopped her. + +"Fever or no fever," he persisted, "I have something to say to you. In +two minutes I shall have said it, and I will go." + +In the fewest possible words he described the situation of Iris with +her jealous husband. Mrs. Vimpany indignantly interrupted him. + +"Are you running this dreadful risk," she asked, "with nothing to say +to me that I don't know already? Her husband jealous of her? Of course +he is jealous of her! Leave me--or I will ring for the servant." + +"Ring, if you like," Hugh answered; "but hear this first. My letter to +you alluded to a consultation between us, which might be necessary in +the interests of Iris. Imagine her situation if you can! The assassin +of Arthur Mountjoy is reported to be in London; and Lord Harry has +heard of it." + +Mrs. Vimpany looked at him with horror in her eyes. + +"Gracious God!" she cried, "the man is here--under my care. Oh, I am +not in the conspiracy to hide the wretch! I knew no more of him than +you do when I offered to nurse him. The names that have escaped him, in +his delirium, have told me the truth." + +As she spoke, a second door in the room was opened. An old woman showed +herself for a moment, trembling with terror. "He's breaking out again, +nurse! Help me to hold him!" + +Mrs. Vimpany instantly followed the woman into the bed-room. "Wait and +listen," she said to Mountjoy--and left the door open. + +The quick, fierce, muttering tones of a man in delirium were now +fearfully audible. His maddened memory was travelling back over his own +horrible life. He put questions to himself; he answered himself: + +"Who drew the lot to kill the traitor? I did! I did! Who shot him on +the road, before he could get to the wood? I did! I did! Arthur +Mountjoy, traitor to Ireland. Set that on his tombstone, and disgrace +him for ever. Listen, boys--listen! There is a patriot among you. I am +the patriot--preserved by a merciful Providence. Ha, my Lord Harry, +search the earth and search the sea, the patriot is out of your reach! +Nurse! What's that the doctor said of me? The fever will kill him? +Well, what does that matter, as long as Lord Harry doesn't kill me? +Open the doors, and let everybody hear of it. I die the death of a +saint--the greatest of all saints--the saint who shot Arthur Mountjoy. +Oh, the heat, the heat, the burning raging heat!" The tortured creature +burst into a dreadful cry of rage and pain. It was more than Hugh's +resolution could support. He hurried out of the house. + + * * * * * * * * + +Ten days passed. A letter, in a strange handwriting, reached Iris at +Passy. + +The first part of the letter was devoted to the Irish desperado, whom +Mrs. Vimpany had attended in his illness. + +When she only knew him as a suffering fellow-creature she had promised +to be his nurse. Did the discovery that he was an assassin justify +desertion, or even excuse neglect? No! the nursing art, like the +healing art, is an act of mercy--in itself too essentially noble to +inquire whether the misery that it relieves merits help. All that +experience, all that intelligence, all that care could offer, the nurse +gave to the man whose hand she would have shrunk from touching in +friendship, after she had saved his life. + +A time had come when the fever threatened to take Lord Harry's +vengeance out of his hands. The crisis of the disease declared itself. +With the shadow of death on him, the wretch lived through it--saved by +his strong constitution, and by the skilled and fearless woman who +attended on him. At the period of his convalescence, friends from +Ireland (accompanied by a medical man of their own choosing) presented +themselves at the house, and asked for him by the name under which he +passed--Carrigeen. With every possible care, he was removed; to what +destination had never been discovered. From that time, all trace of him +had been lost. + +Terrible news followed on the next page. + +The subtle power of infection had asserted itself against the poor +mortal who had defied it. Hugh Mountjoy, stricken by the man who had +murdered his brother, lay burning under the scarlet fire of the fever. + +But the nurse watched by him, night and day. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +MY LORD'S MIND + +HERE, my old-vagabond-Vimpany, is an interesting case for you--the cry +of a patient with a sick mind. + +Look over it, and prescribe for your wild Irish friend, if you can. + +You will perhaps remember that I have never thoroughly trusted you, in +all the years since we have known each other. At this later date in our +lives, when I ought to see more clearly than ever what an unfathomable +man you are, am I rash enough to be capable of taking you into my +confidence? + +I don't know what I am going to do; I feel like a man who has been +stunned. To be told that the murderer of Arthur Mountjoy had been seen +in London--to be prepared to trace him by his paltry assumed name of +Carrigeen--to wait vainly for the next discovery which might bring him +within reach of retribution at my hands--and then to be overwhelmed by +the news of his illness, his recovery, and his disappearance: these are +the blows which have stupefied me. Only think of it! He has escaped me +for the second time. Fever that kills thousands of harmless creatures +has spared the assassin. He may yet die in his bed, and be buried, with +the guiltless dead around him, in a quiet churchyard. I can't get over +it; I shall never get over it. + +Add to this, anxieties about my wife, and maddening letters from +creditors--and don't expect me to write reasonably. + +What I want to know is whether your art (or whatever you call it) can +get at my diseased mind, through my healthy body. You have more than +once told me that medicine can do this. The time has come for doing it. +I am in a bad way, and a bad end may follow. My only medical friend, +deliver me from myself. + +In any case, let me beg you to keep your temper while you read what +follows. + +I have to confess that the devil whose name is Jealousy has entered +into me, and is threatening the tranquillity of my married life. You +dislike Iris, I know--and she returns your hostile feeling towards her. +Try to do my wife justice, nevertheless, as I do. I don't believe my +distrust of her has any excuse--and yet, I am jealous. More +unreasonable still, I am as fond of her as I was in the first days of +the honeymoon. Is she as fond as ever of me? You were a married man +when I was a boy. Let me give you the means of forming an opinion by a +narrative of her conduct, under (what I admit to have been) very trying +circumstances. + +When the first information reached Iris of Hugh Mountjoy's dangerous +illness, we were at breakfast. It struck her dumb. She handed the +letter to me, and left the table. + +I hate a man who doesn't know what it is to want money; I hate a man +who keeps his temper; I hate a man who pretends to be my wife's friend, +and who is secretly in love with her all the time. What difference did +it make to me whether Hugh Mountjoy ended in living or dying? If I had +any interest in the matter, it ought by rights (seeing that I am +jealous of him) to be an interest in his death. Well! I declare +positively that the alarming news from London spoilt my breakfast. There +is something about that friend of my wife--that smug, prosperous, +well-behaved Englishman--which seems to plead for him (God knows how!) +when my mind is least inclined in his favour. While I was reading about +his illness, I found myself hoping that he would recover--and, I give +you my sacred word of honour, I hated him all the time. + +My Irish friend is mad--you will say. Your Irish friend, my dear +follow, does not dispute it. + +Let us get back to my wife. She showed herself again after a long +absence, having something (at last) to say to her husband. + +"I am innocently to blame," she began, "for the dreadful misfortune +that has fallen on Mr. Mountjoy. If I had not given him a message to +Mrs. Vimpany, he would never have insisted on seeing her, and would +never have caught the fever. It may help me to bear my misery of +self-reproach and suspense, if I am kept informed of his illness. There +is no fear of infection by my receiving letters. I am to write to a +friend of Mrs. Vimpany, who lives in another house, and who will answer +my inquiries. Do you object, dear Harry, to my getting news of Hugh +Mountjoy every day, while he is in danger?" + +I was perfectly willing that she should get that news, and she ought to +have known it. + +It seemed to me to be also a bad sign that she made her request with +dry eyes. She must have cried, when she first heard that he was likely +to sink under an attack of fever. Why were her tears kept hidden in her +own room? When she came back to me, her face was pale and hard and +tearless. Don't you think she might have forgotten my jealousy, when I +was so careful myself not to show it? My own belief is that she was +longing to go to London, and help your wife to nurse the poor man, and +catch the fever, and die with him if _he_ died. + +Is this bitter? Perhaps it is. Tear it off, and light your pipe with +it. + +Well, the correspondence relating to the sick man continued every day; +and every day--oh, Vimpany, another concession to my jealousy!--she +handed the letters to me to read. I made excuses (we Irish are good at +that, if we are good at nothing else), and declined to read the medical +reports. One morning, when she opened the letter of that day, there +passed over her a change which is likely to remain in my memory as long +as I live. Never have I seen such an ecstasy of happiness in any +woman's face, as I saw when she read the lines which informed her that +the fever was mastered. Iris is sweet and delicate and +bright--essentially fascinating, in a word. But she was never a beautiful +woman, until she knew that Mountjoy's life was safe; and she will never +be a beautiful woman again, unless the time comes when my death leaves +her free to marry him. On her wedding-day, he will see the +transformation that I saw--and he will be dazzled as I was. + +She looked at me, as if she expected me to speak. + +"I am glad indeed," I said, "that he is out of danger." + +She ran to me--she kissed me; I wouldn't have believed it was in her to +give such kisses. "Now I have your sympathy," she said, "my happiness +is complete!" Do you think I was indebted for these kisses to myself or +to that other man? No, no--here is an unworthy doubt. I discard it. +Vile suspicion shall not wrong Iris this time. + +And yet---- + +Shall I go on, and write the rest of it? + +Poor, dear Arthur Mountjoy once told me of a foreign author, who was in +great doubt of the right answer to some tough question that troubled +him. He went into his garden and threw a stone at a tree. If he hit the +tree, the answer would be--Yes. If he missed the tree, the answer would +be--No. I am going into the garden to imitate the foreign author. You +shall hear how it ends. + +I have hit the tree. As a necessary consequence, I must go on and write +the rest of it. + +There is a growing estrangement between Iris and myself--and my +jealousy doesn't altogether account for it. Sometimes, it occurs to me +that we are thinking of what our future relations with Mountjoy are +likely to be, and are ashamed to confess it to each other. +Sometimes--and perhaps this second, and easiest, guess may be the right +one--I am apt to conclude that we are only anxious about money matters. +I am waiting for her to touch on the subject, and she is waiting for +me; and there we are at a deadlock. + +I wish I had some reason for going to some other place. I wish I was +lost among strangers. I should like to find myself in a state of +danger, meeting the risks that I used to run in my vagabond days. Now I +think of it, I might enjoy this last excitement by going back to +England, and giving the Invincibles a chance of shooting me as a +traitor to the cause. But my wife would object to that. + +Suppose we change the subject. + +You will be glad to hear that you knew something of law, as well as of +medicine. I sent instructions to my solicitor in London to raise a loan +on my life-insurance. What you said to me turns out to be right. I +can't raise a farthing, for three years to come, out of all the +thousands of pounds which I shall leave behind me when I die. + +Are my prospects from the newspaper likely to cheer me after such a +disappointment as this? The new journal, I have the pleasure of +informing you, is much admired. When I inquire for my profits, I hear +that the expenses are heavy, and I am told that I must wait for a rise +in our circulation. How long? Nobody knows. + +I shall keep these pages open for a few days more, on the chance of +something happening which may alter my present position for the better. + + +My position has altered for the worse. + +I have been obliged to fill my empty purse, for a little while, by +means of a bit of stamped paper. And how shall I meet my liabilities +when the note falls due? Let time answer the question; for the present +the evil day is put off. In the meanwhile, if that literary speculation +of yours is answering no better than my newspaper, I can lend you a few +pounds to get on with. What do you say (on second thoughts) to coming +back to your old quarters at Passy, and giving me your valuable advice +by word of mouth instead of by letter? + +Come, and feel my pulse, and look at my tongue--and tell me how these +various anxieties of mine are going to end, before we are any of us a +year older. Shall I, like you, be separated from my wife--at her +request; oh, not at mine! Or shall I be locked up in prison? And what +will become of You? Do you take the hint, doctor? + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +MY LADY'S MIND + +"ENTREAT Lady Harry not to write to me. She will be tempted to do so, +when she hears that there is good hope of Mr. Mountjoy's recovery. But, +even from that loving and generous heart, I must not accept expressions +of gratitude which would only embarrass me. All that I have done, as a +nurse, and all that I may yet hope to do, is no more than an effort to +make amends for my past life. Iris has my heart's truest wishes for her +happiness. Until I can myself write to her without danger, let this be +enough." + + +In those terms, dearest of women, your friend has sent your message to +me. My love respects as well as admires you; your wishes are commands +to me. At the same time, I may find some relief from the fears of the +future that oppress me, if I can confide them to friendly ears. May I +not harmlessly write to you, if I only write of my own poor self? + +Try, dear, to remember those pleasant days when you were staying with +us, in our honeymoon time, at Paris. + +You warned me, one evening when we were alone, to be on my guard +against any circumstances which might excite my husband's jealousy. +Since then, the trouble that you foresaw has fallen on me; mainly, I am +afraid, through my own want of self-control. It is so hard for a woman, +when she really loves a man, to understand a state of mind which can +make him doubt her. + +I have discovered that jealousy varies. Let me tell you what I mean. + +Lord Harry was silent and sullen (ah, how well I knew what that meant!) +while the life of our poor Hugh was in jeopardy. When I read the good +news which told me that he was no longer in danger, I don't know +whether there was any change worth remarking in myself--but, there was +a change in my husband, delightful to see. His face showed such sweet +sympathy when he looked at me, he spoke so kindly and nicely of Hugh, +that I could only express my pleasure by kissing him. You will hardly +believe me, when I tell you that his hateful jealousy appeared again, +at that moment. He looked surprised, he looked suspicious--he looked, I +declare, as if he doubted whether I meant it with all my heart when I +kissed him! What incomprehensible creatures men are! We read in novels +of women who are able to manage their masters. I wish I knew how to +manage mine. + +We have been getting into debt. For some weeks past, this sad state of +things has been a burden on my mind. Day after day I have been +expecting him to speak of our situation, and have found him obstinately +silent. Is his mind entirely occupied with other things? Or is he +unwilling to speak of our anxieties because the subject humiliates him? +Yesterday, I could bear it no longer. + +"Our debts are increasing," I said. "Have you thought of any way of +paying them?" + +I had feared that my question might irritate him. To my relief, he +seemed to be diverted by it. + +"The payment of debts," he replied, "is a problem that I am too poor to +solve. Perhaps I got near to it the other day." + +I asked how. + +"Well," he said, "I found myself wishing I had some rich friends. +By-the-bye, how is _your_ rich friend? What have you heard lately of +Mr. Mountjoy?" + +"I have heard that he is steadily advancing towards recovery." + +"Likely, I dare say, to return to France when he feels equal to it," my +husband remarked. "He is a good-natured creature. If he finds himself +in Paris again, I wonder whether he will pay us another visit?" + +He said this quite seriously. On my side, I was too much as astonished +to utter a word. My bewilderment seemed to amuse him. In his own +pleasant way he explained himself: + +"I ought to have told you, my dear, that I was in Mr. Mountjoy's +company the night before he returned to England. We had said some +disagreeable things to each other here in the cottage, while you were +away in your room. My tongue got the better of my judgment. In short, I +spoke rudely to our guest. Thinking over it afterwards, I felt that I +ought to make an apology. He received my sincere excuses with an +amiability of manner, and a grace of language, which raised him greatly +in my estimation." + +There you have Lord Harry's own words! Who would suppose that he had +ever been jealous of the man whom he spoke of in this way? + +I explain it to myself, partly by the charm in Hugh's look and manner, +which everybody feels; partly by the readiness with which my husband's +variable nature receives new impressions. I hope you agree with me. In +any case, pray let Hugh see what I have written to you in this place, +and ask him what he thinks of it.* + +*_Note by Mrs. Vimpany._--I shall certainly not be foolish enough to +show what she has written to Mr. Mountjoy. Poor deluded Iris! Miserable +fatal marriage! + +Encouraged, as you will easily understand, by the delightful prospect +of a reconciliation between them, I was eager to take my first +opportunity of speaking freely of Hugh. Up to that time, it had been a +hard trial to keep to myself so much that was deeply interesting in my +thoughts and hopes. But my hours of disappointment were not at an end +yet. We were interrupted. + +A letter was brought to us--one of many, already received!--insisting +on immediate payment of a debt that had been too long unsettled. The +detestable subject of our poverty insisted on claiming attention when +there was a messenger outside, waiting for my poor Harry's last French +bank note. + +"What is to be done?" I said, when we were left by ourselves again. + +My husband's composure was something wonderful. He laughed and lit a +cigar. + +"We have got to the crisis," he said. "The question of money has driven +us into a corner at last. My darling, have you ever heard of such a +thing as a promissory note?" + +I was not quite so ignorant as he supposed me to be; I said I had heard +my father speak of promissory notes. + +This seemed to fail in convincing him. "Your father," he remarked, +"used to pay his notes when they fell due." + +I betrayed my ignorance, after all. "Doesn't everybody do the same?" I +asked. + +He burst out laughing. "We will send the maid to get a bit of stamped +paper," he said; "I'll write the message for her, this time." + +Those last words alluded to Fanny's ignorance of the French language, +which made it necessary to provide her with written instructions, when +she was sent on an errand. In our domestic affairs, I was able to do +this; but, in the present case, I only handed the message to her. When +she returned with a slip of stamped paper, Harry called to me to come +to the writing-table. + +"Now, my sweet," he said, "see how easily money is to be got with a +scratch of the pen." + +I looked, over his shoulder. In less than a minute it was done; and he +had produced ten thousand francs on paper--in English money (as he told +me), four hundred pounds. This seemed to be a large loan; I asked how +he proposed to pay it back. He kindly reminded me that he was a +newspaper proprietor, and, as such, possessed of the means of inspiring +confidence in persons with money to spare. They could afford, it seems, +to give him three months in which to arrange for repayment. In that +time, as he thought, the profits of the new journal might come pouring +in. He knew best, of course. + +We took the next train to Paris, and turned our bit of paper into notes +and gold. Never was there such a delightful companion as my husband, +when he has got money in his pocket. After so much sorrow and anxiety, +for weeks past, that memorable afternoon was like a glimpse of +Paradise. + +On the next morning, there was an end to my short-lived enjoyment of no +more than the latter half of a day. + +Watching her opportunity, Fanny Mere came to me while I was alone, +carrying a thick letter in her hand. She held it before me with the +address uppermost. + +"Please to look at that," she said. + +The letter was directed (in Harry's handwriting) to Mr. Vimpany, at a +publishing office in London. Fanny next turned the envelope the other +way. + +"Look at this side," she resumed. + +The envelope was specially protected by a seal; bearing a device of my +husband's own invention; that is to say, the initials of his name +(Harry Norland) surmounted by a star--his lucky star, as he paid me the +compliment of calling it, on the day when he married me. I was thinking +of that day now. Fanny saw me looking, with a sad heart, at the +impression on the wax. She completely misinterpreted the direction +taken by my thoughts. + +"Tell me to do it, my lady," she proceeded; "and I'll open the letter." + +I looked at her. She showed no confusion. "I can seal it up again," she +coolly explained, "with a bit of fresh wax and my thimble. Perhaps Mr. +Vimpany won't be sober enough to notice it." + +"Do you know, Fanny, that you are making a dishonourable proposal to +me?" I said. + +"I know there's nothing I can do to help you that I won't do," she +answered; "and you know why. I have made a dishonourable proposal--have +I? That comes quite naturally to a lost woman like me. Shall I tell you +what Honour means? It means sticking at nothing, in your service. +Please tell me to open the letter." + +"How did you come by the letter, Fanny?" + +"My master gave it to me to put in the post." + +"Then, post it." + +The strange creature, so full of contraries--so sensitive at one time, +so impenetrable at another--pointed again to the address. + +"When the master writes to that man," she went on--"a long letter (if +you will notice), and a sealed letter--your ladyship ought to see what +is inside it. I haven't a doubt myself that there's writing under this +seal which bodes trouble to you. The spare bedroom is empty. Do you +want to have the doctor for your visitor again? Don't tell me to post +the letter, till I've opened it first." + +"I do tell you to post the letter." + +Fanny submitted, so far. But she had a new form of persuasion to try, +before her reserves of resistance were exhausted. "If the doctor comes +back," she continued, "will your ladyship give me leave to go out, +whenever I ask for it?" + +This was surely presuming on my indulgence. "Are you not expecting a +little too much?" I suggested--not unkindly. + +"If you say that, my lady," she answered, "I shall be obliged to ask +you to suit yourself with another maid." + +There was a tone of dictation in this, which I found beyond endurance. +In my anger, I said: "Leave me whenever you like." + +"I shall leave you when I'm dead--not before," was the reply that I +received. "But if you won't let me have my liberty without going away +from you, for a time, I must go--for your sake." + +(For my sake! Pray observe that.) + +She went on: + +"Try to see it, my lady, as I do! If we have the doctor with us again, +I must be able to watch him." + +"Why?" + +"Because he is your enemy, as I believe." + +"How can he hurt me, Fanny?" + +"Through your husband, my lady, if he can do it in no other way. Mr. +Vimpany shall have a spy at his heels. Dishonourable! oh, dishonourable +again! Never mind. I don't pretend to know what that villain means to +do, if he and my lord get together again. But this I can tell you, if +it's in woman's wit to circumvent him, here I am with my mind made up. +With my mind, made up!" she repeated fiercely--and recovered on a +sudden her customary character as a quiet well-trained servant, devoted +to her duties. "I'll take my master's letter to the post now," she +said. "Is there anything your ladyship wants in the town?" + +What do you think of Fanny Mere? Ought I to have treated this last +offer of her services, as I treated her proposal to open the letter? I +was not able to do it. + +The truth is, I was so touched by her devotion to me, that I could not +prevail on myself to mortify her by a refusal. I believe there may be a +good reason for the distrust of the doctor which possesses her so +strongly; and I feel the importance of having this faithful and +determined woman for an ally. Let me hope that Mr. Vimpany's return (if +it is to take place) may be delayed until you can safely write, with +your own hand, such a letter of wise advice as I sadly need. + +In the meantime, give my love to Hugh, and say to this dear friend all +that I might have said for myself, if I had been near him. But take +care that his recovery is not retarded by anxiety for me. Pray keep him +in ignorance of the doubts and fears with which I am now looking at the +future. If I was not so fond of my husband, I should be easier in my +mind. This sounds contradictory, but I believe you will understand it. +For a while, my dear, good-bye. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +THE DOCTOR MEANS MISCHIEF + +ON the day after Lord Harry's description of the state of his mind +reached London, a gentleman presented himself at the publishing office +of Messrs. Boldside Brothers, and asked for the senior partner, Mr. +Peter Boldside. When he sent in his card, it bore the name of "Mr. +Vimpany." + +"To what fortunate circumstance am I indebted, sir, for the honour of +your visit?" the senior partner inquired. His ingratiating manners, his +genial smile, his roundly resonant voice, were personal advantages of +which he made a merciless use. The literary customer who entered the +office, hesitating before the question of publishing a work at his own +expense, generally decided to pay the penalty when he encountered Mr. +Peter Boldside. + +"I want to inquire about the sale of my work," Mr. Vimpany replied. + +"Ah, doctor, you have come to the wrong man. You must go to my +brother." + +Mr. Vimpany protested. "You mentioned the terms when I first applied to +you," he said, "and you signed the agreement." + +"That is in _my_ department," the senior partner gently explained. "And +I shall write the cheque when, as we both hope, your large profits +shall fall due. But our sales of works are in the department of my +brother, Mr. Paul Boldside." He rang a bell; a clerk appeared, and +received his instructions: "Mr. Paul. Good-morning, doctor." + +Mr. Paul was, personally speaking, his brother repeated--without the +deep voice, and without the genial smile. Conducted to the office of +the junior partner, Mr. Vimpany found himself in the presence of a +stranger, occupied in turning over the pages of a newspaper. When his +name was announced, the publisher started, and handed his newspaper to +the doctor. + +"This is a coincidence," he said. "I was looking, sir, for your name in +the pages which I have just put into your hand. Surely the editor can't +have refused to publish your letter?" + +Mr. Vimpany was sober, and therefore sad, and therefore (again) not to +be trifled with by a mystifying reception. "I don't understand you," he +answered gruffly. "What do you mean?" + +"Is it possible that you have not seen last week's number of the +paper?" Mr. Paul asked. "And you a literary man!" He forthwith produced +the last week's number, and opened it at the right place. "Read that, +sir," he said, with something in his manner which looked like virtuous +indignation. + +Mr. Vimpany found himself confronted by a letter addressed to the +editor. It was signed by an eminent physician, whose portrait had +appeared in the first serial part of the new work--accompanied by a +brief memoir of his life, which purported to be written by himself. Not +one line of the autobiography (this celebrated person declared) had +proceeded from his pen. Mr. Vimpany had impudently published an +imaginary memoir, full of false reports and scandalous inventions--and +this after he had been referred to a trustworthy source for the +necessary particulars. Stating these facts, the indignant physician +cautioned readers to beware of purchasing a work which, so far as he +was concerned, was nothing less than a fraud on the public. + +"If you can answer that letter, sir," Mr. Paul Boldside resumed, "the +better it will be, I can tell you, for the sale of your publication." + +Mr. Vimpany made a reckless reply: "I want to know how the thing sells. +Never mind the letter." + +"Never mind the letter?" the junior partner repeated. "A positive +charge of fraud is advanced by a man at the head of his profession +against a work which _we_ have published--and you say, Never mind the +letter." + +The rough customer of the Boldsides struck his fist on the table. +"Bother the letter! I insist on knowing what the sale is." + +Still preserving his dignity, Mr. Paul (like Mr. Peter) rang for the +clerk, and briefly gave an order. "Mr. Vimpany's account," he said--and +proceeded to admonish Mr. Vimpany himself. + +"You appear, sir, to have no defence of your conduct to offer. Our firm +has a reputation to preserve. When I have consulted with my brother, we +shall be under the disagreeable necessity--" + +Here (as he afterwards told his brother) the publisher was brutally +interrupted by the author: + +"If you will have it," said this rude man, "here it is in two words. +The doctor's portrait is the likeness of an ass. As he couldn't do it +himself, I wanted materials for writing his life. He referred me to the +year of his birth, the year of his marriage, the year of this, that, +and the other. Who cares about dates? The public likes to be tickled by +personal statements. Very well--I tickled the public. There you have it +in a nutshell." + +The clerk appeared at that auspicious moment, with the author's account +neatly exhibited under two sides: a Debtor side, which represented the +expenditure of Hugh Mountjoy's money; and a Creditor side, which +represented (so far) Mr. Vimpany's profits. Amount of these last: 3_l._ +14_s._ 10_d._ + +Mr. Vimpany tore up the account, threw the pieces in the face of Mr. +Paul, and expressed his sentiments in one opprobrious word: +"Swindlers!" + +The publisher said: "You shall hear of us, sir, through our lawyer." + +And the author answered: "Go to the devil!" + + +Once out in the streets again, the first open door at which Mr. Vimpany +stopped was the door of a tavern. He ordered a glass of brandy and +water, and a cigar. + +It was then the hour of the afternoon, between the time of luncheon and +the time of dinner, when the business of a tavern is generally in a +state of suspense. The dining-room was empty when Mr. Vimpany entered +it: and the waiter's unoccupied attention was in want of an object. +Having nothing else to notice, he looked at the person who had just +come in. The deluded stranger was drinking fiery potato-brandy, and +smoking (at the foreign price) an English cigar. Would his taste tell +him the melancholy truth? No: it seemed to matter nothing to him what +he was drinking or what he was smoking. Now he looked angry, and now he +looked puzzled; and now he took a long letter from his pocket, and read +it in places, and marked the places with a pencil. "Up to some +mischief," was the waiter's interpretation of these signs. The stranger +ordered a second glass of grog, and drank it in gulps, and fell into +such deep thought that he let his cigar go out. Evidently, a man in +search of an idea. And, to all appearance, he found what he wanted on a +sudden. In a hurry he paid his reckoning, and left his small change and +his unfinished cigar on the table, and was off before the waiter could +say, "Thank you." + +The next place at which he stopped was a fine house in a spacious +square. A carriage was waiting at the door. The servant who opened the +door knew him. + +"Sir James is going out again, sir, in two minutes," the man said. Mr. +Vimpany answered: "I won't keep him two minutes." + +A bell rang from the room on the ground floor; and a gentleman came +out, as Mr. Vimpany was shown in. Sir James's stethoscope was still in +his hand; his latest medical fee lay on the table. "Some other day, +Vimpany," the great surgeon said; "I have no time to give you now." + +"Will you give me a minute?" the humble doctor asked. + +"Very well. What is it?" + +"I am down in the world now, Sir James, as you know--and I am trying to +pick myself up again." + +"Very creditable, my good fellow. How can I help you? Come, come--out +with it. You want something?" + +"I want your great name to do me a great service. I am going to France. +A letter of introduction, from you, will open doors which might be +closed to an unknown man like myself." + +"What doors do you mean?" Sir James asked. + +"The doors of the hospitals in Paris." + +"Wait a minute, Vimpany. Have you any particular object in view?" + +"A professional object, of course," the ready doctor answered. "I have +got an idea for a new treatment of diseases of the lungs; and I want to +see if the French have made any recent discoveries in that direction." + +Sir James took up his pen--and hesitated. His ill-starred medical +colleague had been his fellow-student and his friend, in the days when +they were both young men. They had seen but little of each other since +they had gone their different ways--one of them, on the high road which +leads to success, the other down the byways which end in failure. The +famous surgeon felt a passing doubt of the use which his needy and +vagabond inferior might make of his name. For a moment his pen was held +suspended over the paper. But the man of great reputation was also a +man of great heart. Old associations pleaded with him, and won their +cause. His companion of former times left the house provided with a +letter of introduction to the chief surgeon at the Hotel Dieu, in +Paris. + +Mr. Vimpany's next, and last, proceeding for that day, was to stop at a +telegraph-office, and to communicate economically with Lord Harry in +three words: + +"Expect me to-morrow." + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +THE FIRST QUARREL + +EARLY in the morning of the next day, Lord Harry received the doctor's +telegram. Iris not having risen at the time, he sent for Fanny Mere, +and ordered her to get the spare room ready for a guest. The maid's +busy suspicion tempted her to put a venturesome question. She asked if +the person expected was a lady or a gentleman. + +"What business is it of yours who the visitor is?" her master asked +sharply. Always easy and good-humoured with his inferiors in general, +Lord Harry had taken a dislike to his wife's maid, from the moment when +he had first seen her. His Irish feeling for beauty and brightness was +especially offended by the unhealthy pallor of the woman's complexion, +and the sullen self-suppression of her manner. All that his native +ingenuity had been able to do was to make her a means of paying a +compliment to his wife. "Your maid has one merit in my eyes," he said; +"she is a living proof of the sweetness of your temper." + +Iris joined her husband at the breakfast-table with an appearance of +disturbance in her face, seldom seen, during the dull days of her life +at Passy. "I hear of somebody coming to stay with us," she said. "Not +Mr. Vimpany again, I hope and trust?" + +Lord Harry was careful to give his customary morning kiss, before he +replied. "Why shouldn't my faithful old friend come and see me again?" +he asked, with his winning smile. + +"Pray don't speak of that hateful man," she answered, "as your faithful +old friend! He is nothing of the kind. What did you tell me when he +took leave of us after his last visit, and I owned I was glad that he +had gone? You said: 'Faith, my dear, I'm as glad as you are.'" + +Her good-natured husband laughed at this little picture of himself. +"Ah, my darling, how many more times am I to make the same confession +to my pretty priest? Try to remember, without more telling, that it's +one of my misfortunes to be a man of many tempers. There are times when +I get tired to death of Mr. Vimpany; and there are times when the +cheery old devil exercises fascinations over me. I declare you're +spoiling the eyebrows that I admire by letting them twist themselves +into a frown! After the trouble I have taken to clear your mind of +prejudice against an unfortunate man, it's disheartening to find you so +hard on the poor fellow's faults and so blind to his virtues." + +The time had been when this remonstrance might have influenced his +wife's opinion. She passed it over without notice now. + +"Does he come here by your invitation?" she asked. + +"How else should he come here, my dear?" + +She looked at her husband with doubt too plainly visible in her eyes. +"I wonder what your motive is for sending for him," she said. + +He was just lifting his teacup to his lips--he put it down again when +he heard those words. + +"Are you ill this morning?" he asked. + +"No." + +"Have I said anything that has offended you?" + +"Certainly not." + +"Then I must tell you this, Iris; I don't approve of what you have just +said. It sounds, to my mind, unpleasantly like suspicion of me and +suspicion of my friend. I see your face confessing it, my lady, at this +moment." + +"You are half right, Harry, and no more. What you see in my face is +suspicion of your friend." + +"Founded on what, if you please?" + +"Founded on what I have seen of him, and on what I know of him. When +you tried to alter my opinion of Mr. Vimpany some time since, I did my +best to make my view your view. I deceived myself, for your sake; I put +the best construction on what he said and did, when he was staying +here. It was well meant, but it was of no use. In a thousand different +ways, while he was doing his best to win my favour, his true self was +telling tales of him under the fair surface. Mr. Vimpany is a bad man. +He is the very worst friend you could have about you at any time--and +especially at a time when your patience is tried by needy +circumstances." + +"One word, Iris. The more eloquent you are, the more I admire you. +Only, don't mention my needy circumstances again." + +She passed over the interruption as she had already passed over the +remonstrance, without taking notice of it. + +"Dearest, you are always good to me," she continued gently. "Am I wrong +in thinking that love gives me some little influence over you still? +Women are vain--are they not?--and I am no better than the rest of +them. Flatter your wife's vanity, Harry, by attaching some importance +to her opinion. Is there time enough, yet, to telegraph to Mr. Vimpany? +Quite out of the question, is it? Well, then, if he must come here, +do--pray, pray do consider Me. Don't let him stay in the house! I'll +find a good excuse, and take a bedroom for him in the neighbourhood. +Anywhere else, so long as he is not here. He turns me cold when I think +of him, sleeping under the same roof with ourselves. Not with us! oh, +Harry, not with us!" + +Her eyes eagerly searched her husband's face; she looked there for +indulgence, she looked for conviction. No! he was still admiring her. + +"On my word of honour," he burst out, "you fascinate me. What an +imagination you have got! One of these days, Iris, I shall be prouder +of you than ever; I shall find you a famous literary character. I don't +mean writing a novel; women who can't even hem a handkerchief can write +a novel. It's poetry I'm thinking of. Irish melodies by Lady Harry that +beat Tom Moore. What a gift! And there are fortunes made, as I have +heard, by people who spoil fair white paper to some purpose. I wish I +was one of them." + +"Have you no more to say to me?" she asked. + +"What more should there be? You wouldn't have me take you seriously, in +what you have just said of Vimpany?" + +"Why not?" + +"Oh, come, come, my darling! Just consider. With a bedroom empty and +waiting, upstairs, is my old Vimpany to be sent to quarters for the +night among strangers? I wouldn't speak harshly to you, Iris, for the +whole world; and I don't deny that the convivial doctor may be +sometimes a little too fond of his drop of grog. You will tell me, +maybe, that he hasn't got on nicely with his wife; and I grant it. +There are not many people who set such a pretty example of matrimony as +we do. Poor humanity--there's all that's to be said about it. But when +you tell me that Vimpany is a bad man, and the worst friend I could +possibly have, and so forth--what better can I do than set it down to +your imagination? I've a pretty fancy, myself; and I think I see my +angel inventing poetical characters, up among congenial clouds. What's +the matter? Surely, you haven't done breakfast yet?" + +"Yes." + +"Are you going to leave me?" + +"I am going to my room." + +"You're in a mighty hurry to get away. I never meant to vex you, Iris. +Ah, well, if you must leave the table, I'll have the honour of opening +the door for you, at any rate. I wonder what you're going to do?" + +"To cultivate my imagination," she answered, with the first outbreak of +bitterness that had escaped her yet. + +His face hardened. "There seems to be something like bearing malice in +this," he said. "Are you treating me, for the first time, to an +exhibition of enmity? What am I to call it, if it's not that?" + +"Call it disappointment," she suggested quietly, and left him. + +Lord Harry went back to his breakfast. His jealousy was up in arms +again. "She's comparing me with her absent friend," he said to himself, +"and wishing she had married the amiable Mountjoy instead of me." + +So the first quarrel ended--and Mr. Vimpany had been the cause of it. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +ICI ON PARLE FRANCAIS + +THE doctor arrived in good time for dinner, and shook hands with the +Irish lord in excellent spirits. + +He looked round the room, and asked where my lady was. Lord Harry's +reply suggested the presence of a cloud on the domestic horizon. He had +been taking a long ride, and had only returned a few minutes since; +Iris would (as he supposed) join them immediately. + +The maid put the soup on the table, and delivered a message. Her +mistress was suffering from a headache, and was not well enough to dine +with the gentlemen. + +As an old married man, Mr. Vimpany knew what this meant; he begged +leave to send a comforting message to the suffering lady of the house. +Would Fanny be good enough to say that he had made inquiries on the +subject of Mr. Mountjoy's health, before he left London. The report was +still favourable; there was nothing to complain of but the +after-weakness which had followed the fever. On that account only, the +attendance of the nurse was still a matter of necessity. "With my +respects to Lady Harry," he called after Fanny, as she went out in +dogged silence. + +"I have begun by making myself agreeable to your wife," the doctor +remarked with a self-approving grin. "Perhaps she will dine with us +to-morrow. Pass the sherry." + +The remembrance of what had happened at the breakfast-table, that +morning, seemed to be dwelling disagreeably on Lord Harry's mind. He +said but little--and that little related to the subject on which he had +already written, at full length, to his medical friend. + +In an interval, when the service of the table required the attendance +of Fanny in the kitchen, Mr. Vimpany took the opportunity of saying a +few cheering words. He had come (he remarked) prepared with the right +sort of remedy for an ailing state of mind, and he would explain +himself at a fitter opportunity. Lord Harry impatiently asked why the +explanation was deferred. If the presence of the maid was the obstacle +which caused delay, it would be easy to tell her that she was not +wanted to wait. + +The wary doctor positively forbade this. + +He had observed Fanny, during his previous visit, and had discovered +that she seemed to distrust him. The woman was sly and suspicious. +Since they had sat down to dinner, it was easy to see that she was +lingering in the room to listen to the conversation, on one pretence or +another. If she was told not to wait, there could be no doubt of her +next proceeding: she would listen outside the door. "Take my word for +it," the doctor concluded, "there are all the materials for a spy in +Fanny Mere." + +But Lord Harry was obstinate. Chafing under the sense of his helpless +pecuniary position, he was determined to hear, at once, what remedy for +it Vimpany had discovered. + +"We can set that woman's curiosity at defiance," he said. + +"How?" + +"When you were learning your profession, you lived in Paris for some +years, didn't you? + +"All right!" + +"Well, then, you can't have entirely forgotten your French?" + +The doctor at once understood what this meant, and answered +significantly by a wink. He had found an opportunity (he said) of +testing his memory, not very long since. Time had undoubtedly deprived +him of his early mastery over the French language; but he could still +(allowing for a few mistakes) make a shift to understand it and speak +it. There was one thing, however, that he wanted to know first. Could +they be sure that my lady's maid had not picked up French enough to use +her ears to some purpose? Lord Harry easily disposed of this doubt. So +entirely ignorant was the maid of the language of the place in which +she was living, that she was not able to ask the tradespeople for the +simplest article of household use, unless it was written for her in +French before she was sent on an errand. + +This was conclusive. When Fanny returned to the dining-room, she found +a surprise waiting for her. The two gentlemen had taken leave of their +nationality, and were talking the language of foreigners. + + +An hour later, when the dinner-table had been cleared, the maid's +domestic duties took her to Lady Harry's room to make tea. She noticed +the sad careworn look on her mistress's face, and spoke of it at once +in her own downright way. + +"I thought it was only an excuse," she said, "when you gave me that +message to the gentlemen, at dinner-time. Are you really ill, my lady?" + +"I am a little out of spirits," Iris replied. + +Fanny made the tea. "I can understand that," she said to herself, as +she moved away to leave the room; "I'm out of spirits myself." + +Iris called her back: "I heard you say just now, Fanny, that you were +out of spirits yourself. If you were speaking of some troubles of your +own, I am sorry for you, and I won't say any more. But if you know what +my anxieties are, and share them--" + +"Mine is the biggest share of the two," Fanny broke out abruptly. "It +goes against the grain with me to distress you, my lady; but we are +beginning badly, and you ought to know it. The doctor has beaten me +already." + +"Beaten you already?" Iris repeated. "Tell me plainly what you mean?" + +"Here it is, if you please, as plainly as words can say it. Mr. Vimpany +has something--something wicked, of course--to say to my master; and he +won't let it pass his lips here, in the cottage." + +"Why not?" + +"Because he suspects me of listening at the door, and looking through +the keyhole. I don't know, my lady, that he doesn't even suspect You. +'I've learnt something in the course of my life,' he says to my master; +'and it's a rule with me to be careful of what I talk about indoors, +when there are women in the house. What are you going to do +to-morrow?' he says. My lord told him there was to be a meeting at the +newspaper office. The doctor says: 'I'll go to Paris with you. The +newspaper office isn't far from the Luxembourg Gardens. When you have +done your business, you will find me waiting at the gate. What I have +to tell you, you shall hear out of doors in the Gardens--and in an open +part of them, too, where there are no lurking-places among the trees.' +My master seemed to get angry at being put off in this way. 'What is it +you have got to tell me?' he says. 'Is it anything like the proposal +you made, when you were on your last visit here?' The doctor laughed. +'To-morrow won't be long in coming,' he says. 'Patience, my +lord--patience.' There was no getting him to say a word more. Now, what +am I to do? How am I to get a chance of listening to him, out in an +open garden, without being seen? There's what I mean when I say he has +beaten me. It's you, my lady--it's you who will suffer in the end." + +"You don't _know_ that, Fanny." + +"No, my lady--but I'm certain of it. And here I am, as helpless as +yourself! My temper has been quiet, since my misfortune; it would be +quiet still, but for this." The one animating motive, the one +exasperating influence, in that sad and secret life was still the +mistress's welfare--still the safety of the generous woman who had +befriended and forgiven her. She turned aside from the table, to hide +her ghastly face. + +"Pray try to control yourself." As Iris spoke, she pointed kindly to a +chair. "There is something that I want to say when you are composed +again. I won't hurry you; I won't look at you. Sit down, Fanny." + +She appeared to shrink from being seated in her mistress's presence. +"Please to let me go to the window," she said; "the air will help me." + +To the window she went, and struggled with the passionate self so +steadily kept under at other times; so obstinately conquered now. "What +did you wish to say to me?" she asked. + +"You have surprised--you have perplexed me," Iris said. "I am at a loss +to understand how you discovered what seems to have passed between your +master and Mr. Vimpany. You don't surely mean to tell me that they +talked of their private affairs while you were waiting at table?" + +"I don't tell lies, my lady," Fanny declared impulsively. "They talked +of nothing else all through the dinner." + +"Before _you!"_ Iris exclaimed. + +There was a pause. Fear and shame confessed themselves furtively on the +maid's colourless face. Silently, swiftly, she turned to the door. Had +a slip of the tongue hurried her into the betrayal of something which +it was her interest to conceal? "Don't be alarmed," Iris said +compassionately; "I have no wish to intrude on your secrets." + +With her hand on the door, Fanny Mere closed it again, and came back. + +"I am not so ungrateful," she said, "as to have any secrets from You. +It's hard to confess what may lower me in your good opinion, but it +must be done. I have deceived your ladyship--and I am ashamed of it. I +have deceived the doctor--and I glory in it. My master and Mr. Vimpany +thought they were safe in speaking French, while I was waiting on them. +I know French as well as they do." + +Iris could hardly believe what she heard. "Do you really mean what you +say?" she asked. + +"There's that much good in me," Fanny replied; "I always mean what I +say." + +"Why did you deceive me? Why have you been acting the part of an +ignorant woman?" + +"The deceit has been useful in your service," the obstinate maid +declared. "Perhaps it may be useful again." + +"Was that what you were thinking of," Iris said, "when you allowed me +to translate English into French for you, and never told me the truth?" + +"At any rate, I will tell you the truth, now. No: I was not thinking of +you, when you wrote my errands for me in French--I was thinking again +of some advice that was once given to me." + +"Was it advice given by a friend?" + +"Given by a man, my lady, who was the worst enemy I have ever had." + +Her considerate mistress understood the allusion, and forbade her to +distress herself by saying more. But Fanny felt that atonement, as well +as explanation, was due to her benefactress. Slowly, painfully she +described the person to whom she had referred. He was a Frenchman, who +had been her music-master during the brief period at which she had +attended a school: he had promised her marriage; he had persuaded her +to elope with him. The little money that they had to live on was earned +by her needle, and by his wages as accompanist at a music-hall. While +she was still able to attract him, and to hope for the performance of +his promise, he amused himself by teaching her his own language. When +he deserted her, his letter of farewell contained, among other things +the advice to which she had alluded. + +"In your station of life," this man had written, "knowledge of French +is still a rare accomplishment. Keep your knowledge to yourself. +English people of rank have a way of talking French to each other, when +they don't wish to be understood by their inferiors. In the course of +your career, you may surprise secrets which will prove to be a little +fortune, if you play your cards properly. Anyhow, it is the only +fortune I have to leave to you." Such had been the villain's parting +gift to the woman whom he had betrayed. + +She had hated him too bitterly to be depraved by his advice. + +On the contrary, when the kindness of a friend (now no longer in +England) had helped her to obtain her first employment as a domestic +servant, she had thought it might be to her interest to mention that +she could read, write, and speak French. The result proved to be not +only a disappointment, but a warning to her for the future. Such an +accomplishment as a knowledge of a foreign language possessed by an +Englishwoman, in her humble rank of life, was considered by her +mistress to justify suspicion. Questions were asked, which it was +impossible for her to answer truthfully. Small scandal drew its own +conclusions--her life with the other servants became unendurable--she +left her situation. + +From that time, until the happy day when she met with Iris, concealment +of her knowledge of French became a proceeding forced on her by her own +poor interests. Her present mistress would undoubtedly have been taken +into her confidence, if the opportunity had offered itself. But Iris +had never encouraged her to speak of the one darkest scene in her life; +and for that reason, she had kept her own counsel until the date of her +mistress's marriage. Distrusting the husband, and the husband's +confidential friend--for were they not both men?--she had thought of +the vile Frenchman's advice, and had resolved to give it a trial; not +with the degrading motive which he had suggested, but with the vague +presentiment of making a discovery of wickedness, threatening mischief +under a French disguise, which might be of service to her benefactress +at some future time. + +"And I may still turn it to your advantage, my lady," Fanny ventured to +add, "if you will consent to say nothing to anybody of your having a +servant who has learnt French." + +Iris looked at her coldly and gravely. "Must I remind you," she said, +"that you are asking my help in practicing a deception on my husband?" + +"I shall be sent away," Fanny answered, "if you tell my master what I +have told you." + +This was indisputably true. Iris hesitated. In her present situation, +the maid was the one friend on whom she could rely. Before her +marriage, she would have recoiled from availing herself, under any +circumstances, of such services as Fanny's reckless gratitude had +offered to her. But the moral atmosphere in which she was living had +begun, as Mrs. Vimpany had foreseen, to exert its baneful influence. +The mistress descended to bargaining with the servant. + +"Deceive the doctor," she said, "and I well remember that it may be for +my good." She stopped, and considered for a moment. Her noble nature +rallied its forces, and prompted her next words: "But respect your +master, if you wish me to keep your secret. I forbid you to listen to +what my lord may say, when he speaks with Mr. Vimpany to-morrow." + +"I have already told your ladyship that I shall have no chance of +listening to what they say to each other, out of doors," Fanny +rejoined. "But I can watch the doctor at any rate. We don't know what +he may not do when he is left by himself, while my master is at the +meeting. I want to try if I can follow that rogue through the streets, +without his finding me out. Please to send me on an errand to Paris +to-morrow." + +"You will be running a terrible risk," her mistress reminded her, "if +Mr. Vimpany discovers you." + +"I'll take my chance of that," was the reckless reply. + +Iris consented. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +THE MYSTERY OF THE HOSPITAL + +ON the next morning Lord Harry left the cottage, accompanied by the +doctor. + +After a long absence, he returned alone. His wife's worst +apprehensions, roused by what Fanny had told her, were more than +justified, by the change which she now perceived in him. His eyes were +bloodshot, his face was haggard, his movements were feeble and slow. He +looked like a man exhausted by some internal conflict, which had +vibrated between the extremes of anger and alarm. "I'm tired to death," +he said; "get me a glass of wine." + +She waited on him with eager obedience, and watched anxiously for the +reviving effect of the stimulant. + +The little irritabilities which degrade humanity only prolong their +mischievous existence, while the surface of life stagnates in calm. +Their annihilation follows when strong emotion stirs in the depths, and +raises the storm. The estrangement of the day before passed as +completely from the minds of the husband and wife--both strongly +agitated--as if it had never existed. All-mastering fear was busy at +their hearts; fear, in the woman, of the unknown temptation which had +tried the man; fear, in the man, of the tell-tale disturbance in him, +which might excite the woman's suspicion. Without venturing to look at +him, Iris said: "I am afraid you have heard bad news?" Without +venturing to look at her, Lord Harry answered: "Yes, at the newspaper +office." She knew that he was deceiving her; and he felt that she knew +it. For awhile, they were both silent. + +From time to time, she anxiously stole a look at him. + +His mind remained absorbed in thought. There they were, in the same +room--seated near each other; united by the most intimate of human +relationships--and yet how far, how cruelly far, apart! The slowest of +all laggard minutes, the minutes which are reckoned by suspense, +followed each other tardily and more tardily, before there appeared the +first sign of a change. He lifted his drooping head. Sadly, longingly, +he looked at her. The unerring instinct of true love encouraged his +wife to speak to him. + +"I wish I could relieve your anxieties," she said simply. "Is there +nothing I can do to help you?" + +"Come here, Iris." + +She rose and approached him. In the past days of the honeymoon and its +sweet familiarities, he had sometimes taken her on his knee. He took +her on his knee now, and put his arm round her. "Kiss me," he said. + +With all her heart she kissed him. He sighed heavily; his eyes rested +on her with a trustful appealing look which she had never observed in +them before. + +"Why do you hesitate to confide in me?" she asked. "Dear Harry, do you +think I don't see that something troubles you?" + +"Yes," he said, "there is something that I regret." + +"What is it?" + +"Iris," he answered, "I am sorry I asked Vimpany to come back to us." + +At that unexpected confession, a bright flush of joy and pride +overspread his wife's face. Again, the unerring instinct of love guided +her to discovery of the truth. The opinion of his wicked friend must +have been accidentally justified, at the secret interview of that day, +by the friend himself! In tempting her husband, Vimpany had said +something which must have shocked and offended him. The result, as she +could hardly doubt, had been the restoration of her domestic influence +to its helpful freedom of control--whether for the time only it was not +in her nature, at that moment of happiness, to inquire. "After what you +have just told me," she ventured to say, "I may own that I am glad to +see you come home, alone." + +In that indirect manner, she confessed the hope that friendly +intercourse between the two men had come to an end. His reply +disappointed her. + +"Vimpany only remains in Paris," he said, "to present a letter of +introduction. He will follow me home." + +"Soon?" she asked, piteously. + +"In time for dinner, I suppose." She was still sitting on his knee. His +arm pressed her gently when he said his next words, "I hope you will +dine with us to-day, Iris?" + +"Yes--if you wish it." + +"I wish it very much. Something in me recoils from being alone with +Vimpany. Besides, a dinner at home without you is no dinner at all." + +She thanked him for that little compliment by a look. At the same time, +her grateful sense of her husband's kindness was embittered by the +prospect of the doctor's return. "Is he likely to dine with us often, +now?" she was bold enough to say. + +"I hope not." + +Perhaps he was conscious that he might have made a more positive reply. +He certainly took refuge in another subject--more agreeable to himself. + +"My dear, you have expressed the wish to relieve my anxieties," he +said; "and you can help me, I think, in that way. I have a letter to +write--of some importance, Iris, to your interests as well as to +mine--which must go to Ireland by to-day's post. You shall read it, and +say if you approve of what I have done. Don't let me be disturbed. This +letter, I can tell you, will make a hard demand on my poor brains--I +must go and write in my own room." + +Left alone with the thoughts that now crowded on her mind, Iris found +her attention claimed once more by passing events. Fanny Mere arrived, +to report herself on her return from Paris. + +She had so managed her departure from Passy as to precede Lord Harry +and Mr. Vimpany, and to watch for their arrival in Paris by a later +train. They had driven from the railway to the newspaper office---with +the maid in attendance on them in another cab. When they separated, the +doctor proceeded on foot to the Luxembourg Gardens. Wearing a plain +black dress, and protected from close observation by her veil, Fanny +followed him, cautiously keeping at a sufficient distance, now on one +side of the street and now on the other. When my lord joined his +friend, she just held them in view, and no more, as they walked up and +down in the barest and loneliest part of the Gardens that they could +find. Their talk having come to an end, they parted. Her master was the +first who came out into the street; walking at a great rate, and +looking most desperately upset. Mr. Vimpany next appeared, sauntering +along with his hands in his pockets, grinning as if his own villainous +thoughts were thoroughly amusing him. Fanny was now more careful than +ever not to lose sight of the doctor. The course which he pursued led +them to the famous hospital called the Hotel Dieu. + +At the entrance she saw him take a letter out of his pocket, and give +it to the porter. Soon afterwards, a person appeared who greeted him +politely, and conducted him into the building. For more than an hour, +Fanny waited to see Mr. Vimpany come out again, and waited in vain. +What could he possibly want in a French hospital? And why had he +remained in that foreign institution for so long a time? Baffled by +these mysteries, and weary after much walking, Fanny made the best of +her way home, and consulted her mistress. + +Even if Iris had been capable of enlightening her, the opportunity was +wanting. Lord Harry entered the room, with the letter which he had just +written, open in his hand, As a matter of course, the maid retired. + + + +CHAPTER XL + +DIRE NECESSITY + +THE Irish lord had a word to say to his wife, before he submitted to +her the letter which he had just written. + +He had been summoned to a meeting of proprietors at the office of the +newspaper, convened to settle the terms of a new subscription rendered +necessary by unforeseen expenses incurred in the interests of the +speculation. The vote that followed, after careful preliminary +consultation, authorised a claim on the purses of subscribing +proprietors, which sadly reduced the sum obtained by Lord Harry's +promissory note. Nor was this inconvenience the only trial of endurance +to which the Irish lord was compelled to submit. The hope which he had +entertained of assistance from the profits of the new journal, when +repayment of the loan that he had raised became due, was now plainly +revealed as a delusion. Ruin stared him in the face, unless he could +command the means of waiting for the pecuniary success of the +newspaper, during an interval variously estimated at six months, or +even at a year to come. + +"Our case is desperate enough," he said, "to call for a desperate +remedy. Keep up your spirits, Iris--I have written to my brother." + +Iris looked at him in dismay. + +"Surely," she said, "you once told me you had written to your brother, +and he answered you in the cruellest manner through his lawyers." + +"Quite true, my dear. But, this time, there is one circumstance in our +favour--my brother is going to be married. The lady is said to be an +heiress; a charming creature, admired and beloved wherever she goes. +There must surely be something to soften the hardest heart in that +happy prospect. Read what I have written, and tell me what you think of +it." + +The opinion of the devoted wife encouraged the desperate husband: the +letter was dispatched by the post of that day. + +If boisterous good spirits can make a man agreeable at the +dinner-table, then indeed Mr. Vimpany, on his return to the cottage, +played the part of a welcome guest. He was inexhaustible in gallant +attentions to his friend's wife; he told his most amusing stories in +his happiest way; he gaily drank his host's fine white Burgundy, and +praised with thorough knowledge of the subject the succulent French +dishes; he tried Lord Harry with talk on politics, talk on sport, and +(wonderful to relate in these days) talk on literature. The preoccupied +Irishman was equally inaccessible on all three subjects. When the +dessert was placed on the table--still bent on making himself agreeable +to Lady Harry--Mr. Vimpany led the conversation to the subject of +floriculture. In the interests of her ladyship's pretty little garden, +he advocated a complete change in the system of cultivation, and +justified his revolutionary views by misquoting the published work of a +great authority on gardening with such polite obstinacy that Iris +(eager to confute him) went away to fetch the book. The moment he had +entrapped her into leaving the room, the doctor turned to Lord Harry +with a sudden change to the imperative mood in look and manner. + +"What have you been about," he asked, "since we had that talk in the +Gardens to-day? Have you looked at your empty purse, and are you wise +enough to take my way of filling it?" + +"As long as there's the ghost of a chance left to me," Lord Harry +replied, "I'll take any way of filling my purse but yours." + +"Does that mean you have found a way?" + +"Do me a favour, Vimpany. Defer all questions till the end of the +week." + +"And then I shall have your answer?" + +"Without fail, I promise it. Hush!" + +Iris returned to the dining-room with her book; and polite Mr. Vimpany +owned in the readiest manner that he had been mistaken. + +The remaining days of the week followed each other wearily. During the +interval, Lord Harry's friend carefully preserved the character of a +model guest--he gave as little trouble as possible. Every morning after +breakfast the doctor went away by the train. Every morning (with +similar regularity) he was followed by the resolute Fanny Mere. +Pursuing his way through widely different quarters of Paris, he +invariably stopped at a public building, invariably presented a letter +at the door, and was invariably asked to walk in. Inquiries, patiently +persisted in by the English maid, led in each case to the same result. +The different public buildings were devoted to the same benevolent +purpose. Like the Hotel Dieu, they were all hospitals; and Mr. +Vimpany's object in visiting them remained as profound a mystery as +ever. + +Early on the last morning of the week the answer from Lord Harry's +brother arrived. Hearing of it, Iris ran eagerly into her husband's +room. The letter was already scattered in fragments on the floor. What +the tone of the Earl's inhuman answer had been in the past time, that +it was again now. + +Iris put her arms round her husband's neck. "Oh, my poor love, what is +to be done?" + +He answered in one reckless word: "Nothing!" + +"Is there nobody else who can help us?" she asked. + +"Ah, well, darling, there's perhaps one other person still left," + +"Who is the person?" + +"Who should it be but your own dear self?" + +She looked at him in undisguised bewilderment: "Only tell me, Harry, +what I can do?" + +"Write to Mountjoy, and ask him to lend me the money." + +He said it. In those shameless words, he said it. She, who had +sacrificed Mountjoy to the man whom she had married, was now asked by +that man to use Mountjoy's devotion to her, as a means of paying his +debts! Iris drew back from him with a cry of disgust. + +"You refuse?" he said. + +"Do you insult me by doubting it?" she answered. + +He rang the bell furiously, and dashed out of the room. She heard him, +on the stairs, ask where Mr. Vimpany was. The servant replied: "In the +garden, my lord." + +Smoking a cigar luxuriously in the fine morning air, the doctor saw his +excitable Irish friend hastening out to meet him. + +"Don't hurry," he said, in full possession of his impudent good-humour; +"and don't lose your temper. Will you take my way out of your +difficulties, or will you not? Which is it--Yes or No?" + +"You infernal scoundrel--Yes!" + +"My dear lord, I congratulate you." + +"On what, sir?" + +"On being as great a scoundrel as I am." + + + +CHAPTER XLI + +THE MAN IS FOUND. + +THE unworthy scheme, by means of which Lord Harry had proposed to +extricate himself from his pecuniary responsibilities, had led to +serious consequences. It had produced a state of deliberate +estrangement between man and wife. + +Iris secluded herself in her own room. Her husband passed the hours of +every day away from the cottage; sometimes in the company of the +doctor, sometimes among his friends in Paris. His wife suffered acutely +under the self-imposed state of separation, to which wounded pride and +keenly felt resentment compelled her to submit. No friend was near her, +in whose compassionate advice she might have token refuge. Not even the +sympathy of her maid was offered to the lonely wife. + +With the welfare of Iris as her one end in view, Fanny Mere honestly +believed that it would be better and safer for Lady Harry if she and +her husband finally decided on living separate lives. The longer my +lord persisted in keeping the doctor with him as his guest, the more +perilously he was associated with a merciless wretch, who would be +capable of plotting the ruin of anyone--man or woman, high person or +low person--who might happen to be an obstacle in his way. So far as a +person in her situation could venture on taking the liberty, the maid +did her best to widen the breach between her master and her mistress. + +While Fanny was making the attempt to influence Lady Harry, and only +producing irritation as the result, Vimpany was exerting stronger +powers of persuasion in the effort to prejudice the Irish lord against +any proposal for reconciliation which might reach him through his wife. + +"I find an unforgiving temper in your charming lady," the doctor +declared. "It doesn't show itself on the surface, my dear fellow, but +there it is. Take a wise advantage of circumstances--say you will raise +no inconvenient objections, if she wants a separation by mutual +consent. Now don't misunderstand me. I only recommend the sort of +separation which will suit our convenience. You know as well as I do +that you can whistle your wife back again--" + +Mr. Vimpany's friend was rude enough to interrupt him, there. + +"I call that a coarse way of putting it," Lord Harry interposed. + +"Put it how you like for yourself," the doctor rejoined. "Lady Harry +may be persuaded to come back to you, when we want her for our grand +project. In the meantime (for I am always a considerate man where women +are concerned) we act delicately towards my lady, in sparing her the +discovery of--what shall I call our coming enterprise?--venturesome +villainy, which might ruin you in your wife's estimation. Do you see +our situation now, as it really is? Very well. Pass the bottle, and +drop the subject for the present." + +The next morning brought with it an event, which demolished the +doctor's ingenious arrangement for the dismissal of Iris from the scene +of action. Lord and Lady Harry encountered each other accidentally on +the stairs. + +Distrusting herself if she ventured to look at him, Iris turned her +eyes away from her husband. He misinterpreted the action as an +expression of contempt. Anger at once inclined him to follow Mr. +Vimpany's advice. + +He opened the door of the dining-room, empty at that moment, and told +Iris that he wished to speak with her. What his villainous friend had +suggested that he should say, on the subject of a separation, he now +repeated with a repellent firmness which he was far from really +feeling. The acting was bad, but the effect was produced. For the first +time, his wife spoke to him. + +"Do you really mean it?" she asked, + +The tone in which she said those words, sadly and regretfully telling +its tale of uncontrollable surprise; the tender remembrance of past +happy days in her eyes; the quivering pain, expressive of wounded love, +that parted her lips in the effort to breathe freely, touched his +heart, try as he might in the wretched pride of the moment to conceal +it. He was silent. + +"If you are weary of our married life," she continued, "say so, and let +us part. I will go away, without entreaties and without reproaches. +Whatever pain I may feel, you shall not see it!" A passing flush +crossed her face, and left it pale again. She trembled under the +consciousness of returning love--the blind love that had so cruelly +misled her! At a moment when she most needed firmness, her heart was +sinking; she resisted, struggled, recovered herself. Quietly, and even +firmly, she claimed his decision. "Does your silence mean," she asked, +"that you wish me to leave you?" + +No man who had loved her as tenderly as her husband had loved her, +could have resisted that touching self-control. He answered his wife +without uttering a word--he held out his arms to her. The fatal +reconciliation was accomplished in silence. + +At dinner on that day Mr. Vimpany's bold eyes saw a new sight, and Mr. +Vimpany's rascally lips indulged in an impudent smile. My lady appeared +again in her place at the dinner-table. At the customary time, the two +men were left alone over their wine. The reckless Irish lord, rejoicing +in the recovery of his wife's tender regard, drank freely. +Understanding and despising him, the doctor's devilish gaiety indulged +in facetious reminiscences of his own married life. + +"If I could claim a sovereign," he said, "for every quarrel between +Mrs. Vimpany and myself, I put it at a low average when I declare that +I should be worth a thousand pounds. How does your lordship stand in +that matter? Shall we say a dozen breaches of the marriage agreement up +to the present time?" + +"Say two--and no more to come!" his friend answered cheerfully. + +"No more to come!" the doctor repeated. "My experience says plenty more +to come; I never saw two people less likely to submit to a peaceable +married life than you and my lady. Ha! you laugh at that? It's a habit +of mine to back my opinion. I'll bet you a dozen of champagne there +will be a quarrel which parts you two, for good and all, before the +year is out. Do you take the bet?" + +"Done!" cried Lord Harry. "I propose my wife's good health, Vimpany, in +a bumper. She shall drink confusion to all false prophets in the first +glass of your champagne!" + +The post of the next morning brought with it two letters. + +One of them bore the postmark of London, and was addressed to Lady +Harry Norland. It was written by Mrs. Vimpany, and it contained a few +lines added by Hugh Mountjoy. "My strength is slow in returning to me" +(he wrote); "but my kind and devoted nurse says that all danger of +infection is at an end. You may write again to your old friend if Lord +Harry sees no objection, as harmlessly as in the happy past time. My +weak hand begins to tremble already. How glad I shall be to hear from +you, it is, happily for me, quite needless to add." + +In her delight at receiving this good news Iris impulsively assumed +that her husband would give it a kindly welcome on his side; she +insisted on reading the letter to him. He said coldly, "I am glad to +hear of Mr. Mountjoy's recovery"--and took up the newspaper. Was this +unworthy jealousy still strong enough to master him, even at that +moment? His wife had forgotten it. Why had he not forgotten it too? + +On the same day Iris replied to Hugh, with the confidence and affection +of the bygone time before her marriage. After closing and addressing +the envelope, she found that her small store of postage stamps was +exhausted, and sent for her maid. Mr. Vimpany happened to pass the open +door of her room, while she was asking for a stamp; he heard Fanny say +that she was not able to accommodate her mistress. "Allow me to make +myself useful," the polite doctor suggested. He produced a stamp, and +fixed it himself on the envelope. When he had proceeded on his way +downstairs, Fanny's distrust of him insisted on expressing itself. "He +wanted to find out what person you have written to," she said. "Let me +make your letter safe in the post." In five minutes more it was in the +box at the office. + +While these trifling events were in course of progress, Mr. Vimpany had +gone into the garden to read the second of the two letters, delivered +that morning, addressed to himself. On her return from the post-office, +Fanny had opportunities of observing him while she was in the +greenhouse, trying to revive the perishing flowers--neglected in the +past days of domestic trouble. + +Noticing her, after he had read his letter over for the second time, +Mr. Vimpany sent the maid into the cottage to say that he wished to +speak with her master. Lord Harry joined him in the garden--looked at +the letter--and, handing it back, turned away. The doctor followed him, +and said something which seemed to be received with objection. Mr. +Vimpany persisted nevertheless, and apparently carried his point. The +two gentlemen consulted the railway time-table, and hurried away +together, to catch the train to Paris. + +Fanny Mere returned to the conservatory, and absently resumed her +employment among the flowers. On what evil errand had the doctor left +the cottage? And, why, on this occasion, had he taken the master with +him? + +The time had been when Fanny might have tried to set these questions at +rest by boldly following the two gentlemen to Paris; trusting to her +veil, to her luck, and to the choice of a separate carriage in the +train, to escape notice. But, although her ill-judged interference with +the domestic affairs of Lady Harry had been forgiven, she had not been +received again into favour unreservedly. Conditions were imposed, which +forbade her to express any opinion on her master's conduct, and which +imperatively ordered her to leave the protection of her mistress--if +protection was really needed--in his lordship's competent hands. "I +gratefully appreciate your kind intentions," Iris had said, with her +customary tenderness of regard for the feelings of others; "but I never +wish to hear again of Mr. Vimpany, or of the strange suspicions which +he seems to excite in your mind." Still as gratefully devoted to Iris +as ever, Fanny viewed the change in my lady's way of thinking as one of +the deplorable results of her return to her husband, and waited +resignedly for the coming time when her wise distrust of two +unscrupulous men would be justified. + +Condemned to inaction for the present, Lady Harry's maid walked +irritably up and down the conservatory, forgetting the flowers. Through +the open back door of the cottage the cheap clock in the hall poured +its harsh little volume of sound, striking the hour. "I wonder," she +said to herself, "if those two wicked ones have found their way to a +hospital yet?" That guess happened to have hit the mark. The two wicked +ones were really approaching a hospital, well known to the doctor by +more previous visits than one. At the door they were met by a French +physician, attached to the institution--the writer of the letter which +had reached Mr. Vimpany in the morning. + +This gentleman led the way to the official department of the hospital, +and introduced the two foreigners to the French authorities assembled +for the transaction of business. + +As a medical man, Mr. Vimpany's claims to general respect and +confidence were carefully presented. He was a member of the English +College of Surgeons; he was the friend, as well as the colleague of the +famous President of that College, who had introduced him to the chief +surgeon of the Hotel Dieu. Other introductions to illustrious medical +persons in Paris had naturally followed. Presented under these +advantages, Mr. Vimpany announced his discovery of a new system of +treatment in diseases of the lungs. Having received his medical +education in Paris, he felt bound in gratitude to place himself under +the protection of "the princes of science," resident in the brilliant +capital of France. In that hospital, after much fruitless investigation +in similar institutions, he had found a patient suffering from the form +of lung disease, which offered to him the opportunity that he wanted. +It was impossible that he could do justice to his new system, unless +the circumstances were especially favourable. Air more pure than the +air of a great city, and bed-room accommodation not shared by other +sick persons, were among the conditions absolutely necessary to the +success of the experiment. These, and other advantages, were freely +offered to him by his noble friend, who would enter into any +explanations which the authorities then present might think it +necessary to demand. + +The explanations having been offered and approved, there was a general +move to the bed occupied by the invalid who was an object of +professional interest to the English doctor. + +The patient's name was Oxbye. He was a native of Denmark, and had +followed in his own country the vocation of a schoolmaster. His +knowledge of the English language and the French had offered him the +opportunity of migrating to Paris, where he had obtained employment as +translator and copyist. Earning his bread, poorly enough in this way, +he had been prostrated by the malady which had obliged him to take +refuge in the hospital. The French physician, under whose medical care +he had been placed, having announced that he had communicated his notes +enclosed in a letter to his English colleague, and having frankly +acknowledged that the result of the treatment had not as yet +sufficiently justified expectation, the officers of the institution +spoke next. The Dane was informed of the nature of Mr. Vimpany's +interest in him, and of the hospitable assistance offered by Mr. +Vimpany's benevolent friend; and the question was then put, whether he +preferred to remain where he was, or whether he desired to be removed +under the conditions which had just been stated? + +Tempted by the prospect of a change, which offered to him a bed-chamber +of his own in the house of a person of distinction--with a garden to +walk about in, and flowers to gladden his eyes, when he got +better--Oxbye eagerly adopted the alternative of leaving the hospital. +"Pray let me go," the poor fellow said: "I am sure I shall be the +better for it." Without opposing this decision, the responsible +directors reminded him that it had been adopted on impulse, and decided +that it was their duty to give him a little time for consideration. + +In the meanwhile, some of the gentlemen assembled at the bedside, +looking at Oxbye and then looking at Lord Harry, had observed a certain +accidental likeness between the patient and "Milord, the +philanthropist," who was willing to receive him. The restraints of +politeness had only permitted them to speak of this curious discovery +among themselves. At the later time, however, when the gentlemen had +taken leave of each other, Mr. Vimpany--finding himself alone with Lord +Harry--had no hesitation in introducing the subject, on which delicacy +had prevented the Frenchmen from entering. + +"Did you look at the Dane?" he began abruptly. + +"Of course I did!" + +"And you noticed the likeness?" + +"Not I!" + +The doctor's uproarious laughter startled the people who were walking +near them in the street. "Here's another proof," he burst out, "of the +true saying that no man knows himself. You don't deny the likeness, I +suppose?" + +"Do you yourself see it?" Lord Harry asked. + +Mr. Vimpany answered the question scornfully: "Is it likely that I +should have submitted to all the trouble I have taken to get possession +of that man, if I had not seen a likeness between his face and yours?" + +The Irish lord said no more. When his friend asked why he was silent, +he gave his reason sharply enough: "I don't like the subject." + + + +CHAPTER XLII + +THE METTLESOME MAID + +ON the evening of that day Fanny Mere, entering the dining-room with +the coffee, found Lord Harry and Mr. Vimpany alone, and discovered (as +soon as she opened the door) that they changed the language in which +they were talking from English to French. + +She continued to linger in the room, apparently occupied in setting the +various objects on the sideboard in order. Her master was speaking at +the time; he asked if the doctor had succeeded in finding a bed-room +for himself in the neighbourhood. To this Mr. Vimpany replied that he +had got the bed-room. Also, that he had provided himself with something +else, which it was equally important to have at his disposal. "I mean," +he proceeded, in his bad French, "that I have found a photographic +apparatus on hire. We are ready now for the appearance of our +interesting Danish guest." + +"And when the man comes," Lord Harry added, "what am I to say to my +wife? How am I to find an excuse, when she hears of a hospital patient +who has taken possession of your bed-room at the cottage--and has done +it with my permission, and with you to attend on him?" + +The doctor sipped his coffee. "We have told a story that has satisfied +the authorities," he said coolly. "Repeat the story to your wife." + +"She won't believe it," Lord Harry replied. + +Mr. Vimpany waited until he had lit another cigar, and had quite +satisfied himself that it was worth smoking. + +"You have yourself to thank for that obstacle," he resumed. "If you had +taken my advice, your wife would have been out of our way by this time. +I suppose I must manage it. If you fail, leave her ladyship to me. In +the meanwhile, there's a matter of more importance to settle first. We +shall want a nurse for our poor dear invalid. Where are we to find +her?" + +As he stated that difficulty, he finished his coffee, and looked about +him for the bottle of brandy which always stood on the dinner-table. In +doing this, he happened to notice Fanny. Convinced that her mistress +was in danger, after what she had already heard, the maid's anxiety and +alarm had so completely absorbed her that she had forgotten to play her +part. Instead of still busying herself at the sideboard, she stood with +her back to it, palpably listening. Cunning Mr. Vimpany, possessing +himself of the brandy, made a request too entirely appropriate to +excite suspicion. + +"Some fresh cold water, if you please," was all that he said. + +The moment that Fanny left the room, the doctor addressed his friend in +English, with his eye on the door: "News for you, my boy! We are in a +pretty pickle--Lady Harry's maid understands French." + +"Quite impossible," Lord Harry declared. + +"We will put that to the test," Mr. Vimpany answered. "Watch her when +she comes in again." + +"What are you going to do." + +"I am going to insult her in French. Observe the result." + +In another minute Fanny returned with the fresh water. As she placed +the glass jug before Mr. Vimpany he suddenly laid his hand on her arm +and looked her straight in the face. "Vous nous avez mis dedans, +drolesse!"* he said. + +*In English: "You have taken us in, you jade!" + +An uncontrollable look of mingled rage and fear made its plain +confession in Fanny's face. She had been discovered; she had heard +herself called "drolesse;" she stood before the two men self-condemned. +Her angry master threatened her with instant dismissal from the house. +The doctor interfered. + +"No, no," he said; "you mustn't deprive Lady Harry, at a moment's +notice, of her maid. Such a clever maid, too," he added with his +rascally smile. "An accomplished person, who understands French, and is +too modest to own it!" + +The doctor had led Fanny through many a weary and unrewarded walk when +she had followed him to the hospitals; he had now inflicted a +deliberate insult by calling her "drolesse" and he had completed the +sum of his offences by talking contemptuously of her modesty and her +mastery of the French language. The woman's detestation of him, which +under ordinary circumstances she might have attempted to conceal, was +urged into audaciously asserting itself by the strong excitement that +now possessed her. Driven to bay, Fanny had made up her mind to +discover the conspiracy of which Mr. Vimpany was the animating spirit, +by a method daring enough to be worthy of the doctor himself. + +"My knowledge of French has told me something," she said. "I have just +heard, Mr. Vimpany, that you want a nurse for your invalid gentleman. +With my lord's permission, suppose you try Me?" + +Fanny's audacity was more than her master's patience could endure. He +ordered her to leave the room. + +The peace-making doctor interfered again: "My dear lord, let me beg you +will not be too hard on the young woman." He turned to Fanny, with an +effort to look indulgent, which ended in the reappearance of his +rascally smile. "Thank you, my dear, for your proposal," he said; "I +will let you know if we accept it, to-morrow." + +Fanny's unforgiving master pointed to the door; she thanked Mr. +Vimpany, and went out. Lord Harry eyed his friend in angry amazement. +"Are you mad?" he asked. + +"Tell me something first," the doctor rejoined. "Is there any English +blood in your family?" + +Lord Harry answered with a burst of patriotic feeling: "I regret to say +my family is adulterated in that manner. My grandmother was an +Englishwoman." + +Mr. Vimpany received this extract from the page of family history with +a coolness all his own. + +"It's a relief to hear that," he said. "You may be capable (by the +grandmother's side) of swallowing a dose of sound English sense. I can +but try, at any rate. That woman is too bold and too clever to be +treated like an ordinary servant--I incline to believe that she is a +spy in the employment of your wife. Whether I am right or wrong in this +latter case, the one way I can see of paring the cat's claws is to turn +her into a nurse. Do you find me mad now?" + +"Madder than ever!" + +"Ah, you don't take after your grandmother! Now listen to me. Do we run +the smallest risk, if Fanny finds it her interest to betray us? Suppose +we ask ourselves what she has really found out. She knows we have got a +sick man from a hospital coming here--does she know what we want him +for? Not she! Neither you nor I said a word on that subject. But she +also heard us agree that your wife was in our way. What does that +matter? Did she hear us say what it is that we don't want your wife to +discover? Not she, I tell you again! Very well, then--if Fanny acts as +Oxbye's nurse, shy as the young woman may be, she innocently associates +herself with the end that we have to gain by the Danish gentleman's +death! Oh, you needn't look alarmed! I mean his natural death by lung +disease--no crime, my noble friend! no crime!" + +The Irish lord, sitting near the doctor, drew his chair back in a +hurry. + +"If there's English blood in my family," he declared, "I'll tell you +what, Vimpany, there's devil's blood in yours!" + +"Anything you like but Irish blood," the cool scoundrel rejoined. + +As he made that insolent reply, Fanny came in again, with a sufficient +excuse for her reappearance. She announced that a person from the +hospital wished to speak to the English doctor. + +The messenger proved to be a young man employed in the secretary's +office. Oxbye still persisting in his desire to be placed under Mr. +Vimpany's care; one last responsibility rested on the official +gentlemen now in charge of him. They could implicitly trust the medical +assistance and the gracious hospitality offered to the poor Danish +patient; but, before he left them, they must also be satisfied that he +would be attended by a competent nurse. If the person whom Mr. Vimpany +proposed to employ in this capacity could be brought to the hospital, +it would be esteemed a favour; and, if her account of herself satisfied +the physician in charge of Oxbye's case, the Dane might be removed to +his new quarters on the same day. + +The next morning witnessed the first in a series of domestic incidents +at the cottage, which no prophetic ingenuity could have foreseen. Mr. +Vimpany and Fanny Mere actually left Passy together, on their way to +Paris! + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + +FICTION: ATTEMPTED BY MY LORD + +THE day on which the doctor took his newly-appointed nurse with him to +the hospital became an occasion associated with distressing +recollections in the memory of Iris. + +In the morning, Fanny Mere had asked for leave to go out. For some time +past this request had been so frequently granted, with such poor +results so far as the maid's own designs were concerned, that Lady +Harry decided on administering a tacit reproof, by means of a refusal. +Fanny made no attempt at remonstrance; she left the room in silence. + +Half an hour later, Iris had occasion to ring for her attendant. The +bell was answered by the cook--who announced, in explanation of her +appearance, that Fanny Mere had gone out. More distressed than +displeased by this reckless disregard of her authority, on the part of +a woman who had hitherto expressed the most grateful sense of her +kindness, Iris only said: "Send Fanny to me as soon as she comes back." + +Two hours passed before the truant maid returned. + +"I refused to let you go out this morning," Lady Harry said; "and you +have taken the liberty of leaving the house for two hours. You might +have made me understand, in a more becoming manner, that you intended +to leave my service." + +Steadily respectful, Fanny answered: "I don't wish to leave your +ladyship's service." + +"Then what does your conduct mean?" + +"It means, if you please, that I had a duty to do--and did it." + +"A duty to yourself?" Iris asked. + +"No, my lady; a duty to you." + +As she made that strange reply the door was opened, and Lord Harry +entered the room. When he saw Fanny Mere he turned away again, in a +hurry, to go out. "I didn't know your maid was with you," he said. +"Another time will do." + +His permitting a servant to be an obstacle in his way, when he wished +to speak to his wife, was a concession so entirely unbecoming in the +master of the house, and so strangely contrary to his customary sense +of what was due to himself, that Iris called him back in astonishment. +She looked at her maid, who at once understood her, and withdrew. "What +can you possibly be thinking of?" she said to her husband, when they +were alone. Putting that question, she noticed an embarrassment in his +manner, and an appearance of confusion in his face, which alarmed her. +"Has something happened?" she asked; "and is it so serious that you +hesitate to mention it to me?" + +He sat down by her and took her hand. The loving look in his eyes, +which she knew so well, was not in them now; they expressed doubt, and +something with it which suggested an effort at conciliation. + +"I am fearing I shall surprise you," he said. + +"Don't keep me in suspense!" she returned. "What is it?" + +He smiled uneasily: "It's something about Vimpany." + +Having got as far as that, he stopped. She drew her hand away from him. +"I understand now," she said; "I must endeavour to control myself--you +have something to tell me which will try my temper." + +He held up his hands in humorous protest: "Ah, my darling, here's your +vivid imagination again, making mountains out of molehills, as they +say! It's nothing half so serious as you seem to think; I have only to +tell you of a little change." + +"A little change?" she repeated. "What change?" + +"Well, my dear, you see--" He hesitated and recovered himself. "I mean, +you must know that Vimpany's plans are altered. He won't any longer +occupy his bedroom in the cottage here." + +Iris looked inexpressibly relieved. "Going away, at last!" she +exclaimed. "Oh, Harry, if you have been mystifying me, I hope you will +never do it again. It isn't like you; it's cruel to alarm me about +nothing. Mr. Vimpany's empty bedroom will be the most interesting room +in the house, when I look into it to-night." + +Lord Harry got up, and walked to the window. As a sign of trouble in +his mind, and of an instinctive effort to relieve it, the object of +this movement was well-known to Iris. She followed him and stood by his +side. It was now plain to her that there was something more to be +told--and that he was hesitating how to confide it to his wife. + +"Go on," she said resignedly. + +He had expected her to take his arm, or perhaps to caress him, or at +least to encourage him by her gentlest words and her prettiest smiles. +The steady self-restraint which she now manifested was a sign, as he +interpreted it, of suppressed resentment. Shrinking, honestly +shrinking, from the bare possibility of another quarrel, he confronted +the hard necessities of further confession. + +"Well, now," he said, "it's only this--you mustn't look into the empty +bedroom to-night." + +"Why not?" + +"Ah, for the best of all good reasons! Because you might find somebody +in there." + +This reply excited her curiosity: her eyes rested on him eagerly. "Some +friend of yours?" she asked. + +He persisted in an assumption of good-humour, which betrayed itself as +mere artifice in the clumsiest manner: "I declare I feel as if I were +in a court of justice, being cross-examined by a lawyer of skill and +dexterity! Well, my sweet counsellor, no--not exactly a friend of +mine." + +She reflected for a moment. "You don't surely mean one of Mr. Vimpany's +friends?" she said. + +He pretended not to have heard her, and pointed to the view of the +garden from the window. "Isn't it a lovely day? Let's go and look at +the flowers," he suggested. + +"Did you not hear what I said to you just now?" she persisted. + +"I beg your pardon, dear; I was thinking of something else. Suppose we +go into the garden?" + +When women have a point to gain in which they are interested, how many +of them are capable of deferring it to a better opportunity? One in a +thousand, perhaps. Iris kept her place at the window, resolved on +getting an answer. + +"I asked you, Harry, whether the person who is to occupy our spare +bedroom, to-night, was one of Mr. Vimpany's friends?" + +"Say one of Mr. Vimpany's patients--and you will be nearer the truth," +he answered, with an outburst of impatience. + +She could hardly believe him. "Do you mean a person who is really ill?" +she said. + +"Of course I mean it," he said; irritated into speaking out, at last. + +"A man? or a woman?" + +"A man." + +"May I ask if he comes from England?" + +"He comes from one of the French hospitals. Anything more?" + +Iris left her husband to recover his good-humour, and went back to her +chair. The extraordinary disclosure which she had extracted from him +had produced a stupefying effect on her mind. Her customary sympathy +with him, her subtle womanly observation of his character, her intimate +knowledge of his merits and his defects, failed to find the rational +motive which might have explained his conduct. She looked round at him +with mingled feelings of perplexity and distrust. + +He was still at the window, but he had turned his back on the view of +the garden; his eyes were fixed, in furtive expectation, on his wife. +Was he waiting to hear her say something more? She ran the risk and +said it. + +"I don't quite understand the sacrifice you seem to be making to Mr. +Vimpany," she confessed. "Will you tell me, dear, what it means?" + +Here was the opportunity offered of following the doctor's advice, and +putting his wife's credulity to the test. With her knowledge of +Vimpany, would she really believe the story which had imposed on the +strangers who managed the hospital? Lord Harry made up his mind, to try +the experiment. No matter what the result might be, it would bring the +responsibilities that were crushing him to an end. He need say no more, +if the deception succeeded. He could do no more, if it failed. Under +the influence of this cheering reflection, he recovered his temper; his +handsome face brightened again with its genial boyish smile. + +"What a wonderful woman you are!" he cried. "Isn't it just the thing +that I am here for, to tell you what I mean--and my clever wife sees +through and through me, and reminds me of what I must do! Pay my fee +beforehand, Iris! Give me a kiss--and my poor meaning shall be offered +in return. It will help me if you remember one thing. Vimpany and I are +old friends, and there's nothing we won't do to accommodate each other. +Mind that!" + +Tried fairly on its own merits, the stupid fiction invented by the +doctor produced an effect for which Lord Harry was not prepared. The +longer Iris listened, the more strangely Iris looked at him. Not a word +fell from her lips when he had done. He noticed that she had turned +pale: it seemed to be almost possible that he had frightened her! + +If his bird-witted brains could have coupled cause and effect, this was +exactly the result which he might have anticipated. + +She was asked to believe that a new system of medical practice had been +invented by such a person as Mr. Vimpany. She was asked to believe that +an invalid from a foreign hospital, who was a perfect stranger to Lord +Harry, had been willingly made welcome to a bedroom at the cottage. She +was asked to believe that this astounding concession had been offered +to the doctor as a tribute of friendship, after her husband had himself +told her that he regretted having invited Vimpany, for the second time, +to become his guest. Here was one improbable circumstance accumulated +on another, and a clever woman was expected to accept the monstrous +excuses, thus produced, as a trustworthy statement of facts. +Irresistibly, the dread of some evil deed in secret contemplation cast +its darkening presence on the wife's mind. Lord Harry's observation had +not misled him, when he saw Iris turn pale, and when the doubt was +forced on him whether he might not have frightened her. + +"If my explanation of this little matter has satisfied you," he +ventured to resume, "we need say no more about it." + +"I agree with you," she answered, "let us say no more about it." +Conscious, in spite of the effort to resist it, of a feeling of +oppression while she was in the same room with a man who had +deliberately lied to her, and that man her husband, she reminded Lord +Harry that he had proposed to take a walk in the garden. Out in the +pure air, under the bright sky, she might breathe more freely. "Come to +the flowers," she said. + +They went to the garden together--the wife fearing the deceitful +husband, the husband fearing the quick-witted wife. + +Watching each other like two strangers, they walked silently side by +side, and looked now and then at the collection of flowers and plants. +Iris noticed a delicate fern which had fallen away from the support to +which it had been attached. She stopped, and occupied herself in +restoring it to its place. When she looked round again, after attending +to the plant, her husband had disappeared, and Mr. Vimpany was waiting +in his place. + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + +FICTION: IMPROVED BY THE DOCTOR + +"WHERE is Lord Harry?" Iris asked. + +The reply startled her: "Lord Harry leaves me to say to your ladyship, +what he has not had resolution enough to say for himself." + +"I don't understand you, Mr. Vimpany." + +The doctor pointed to the fern which had just been the object of Lady +Harry's care. + +"You have been helping that sickly plant there to live and thrive," he +said, "and I have felt some curiosity in watching you. There is another +sickly plant, which I have undertaken to rear if the thing can be done. +My gardening is of the medical kind--I can only carry it on +indoors--and whatever else it may be, I tell you plainly, like the +outspoken sort of fellow I am, it's not likely to prove agreeable to a +lady. No offence, I hope? Your humble servant is only trying to produce +the right sort of impression--and takes leave to doubt his lordship in +one particular." + +"In what particular, sir?" + +"I'll put it in the form of a question, ma'am. Has my friend persuaded +you to make arrangements for leaving the cottage?" + +Iris looked at Lord Harry's friend without attempting to conceal her +opinion of him. + +"I call that an impertinent question," she said. "By what right do you +presume to inquire into what my husband and I may, or may not, have +said to each other?" + +"Will you do me a favour, my lady? Or, if that is asking too much, +perhaps you will not object to do justice to yourself. Suppose you try +to exercise the virtue of self-control? + +"Quite needless, Mr. Vimpany. Pray understand that you are not capable +of making me angry." + +"Many thanks, Lady Harry: you encourage me to go on. When I was bold +enough to speak of your leaving the cottage, my motive was to prevent +you from being needlessly alarmed." + +Did this mean that he was about to take her into his confidence? All +her experience of him forbade her to believe it possible. But the +doubts and fears occasioned by her interview with her husband had +mastered her better sense; and the effort to conceal from the doctor +the anxiety under which she suffered was steadily weakening the +influence of her self-respect. "Why should I be alarmed?" she asked, in +the vain hope of encouraging him to tell the truth. + +The doctor arrived at a hasty conclusion, on his side. Believing that +he had shaken her resolution, he no longer troubled himself to assume +the forms of politeness which he had hitherto, with some difficulty, +contrived to observe. + +"In this curious little world of ours," he resumed, "we enjoy our lives +on infernally hard terms. We live on condition that we die. The man I +want to cure may die, in spite of the best I can do for him---he may +sink slowly, by what we medical men call a hard death. For example, it +wouldn't much surprise me if I found some difficulty in keeping him in +his bed. He might roam all over your cottage when my back was turned. +Or he might pay the debt of Nature--as somebody calls it--with +screaming and swearing. If you were within hearing of him, I'm afraid +you might be terrified, and, with the best wish to be useful, I +couldn't guarantee (if the worst happened) to keep him quiet. In your +place, if you will allow me to advise you--" + +Iris interrupted him. Instead of confessing the truth, he was +impudently attempting to frighten her. "I don't allow a person in whom +I have no confidence to advise me," she said; "I wish to hear no more." + +Mr. Vimpany found it desirable to resume the forms of politeness. +Either he had failed to shake her resolution, or she was sufficiently +in possession of herself to conceal what she felt. + +"One last word!" he said. "I won't presume to advise your ladyship; I +will merely offer a suggestion. My lord tells me that Hugh Mountjoy is +on the way to recovery. You are in communication with him by letter, as +I happened to notice when I did you that trifling service of providing +a postage-stamp. Why not go to London and cheer your convalescent +friend? Harry won't mind it--I beg your pardon, I ought to have said +Lord Harry. Come! come! my dear lady; I am a rough fellow, but I mean +well. Take a holiday, and come back to us when my lord writes to say +that he can have the pleasure of receiving you again." He waited for a +moment. "Am I not to be favoured with an answer?" he asked. + +"My husband shall answer you." + +With those parting words, Iris turned her back on him. + +She entered the cottage. Now in one room, and now in another, she +searched for Lord Harry; he was nowhere to be found. Had he purposely +gone out to avoid her? Her own remembrance of Vimpany's language and +Vimpany's manner told her that so it must be--the two men were in +league together. Of all dangers, unknown danger is the most terrible to +contemplate. Lady Harry's last resources of resolution failed her. She +dropped helplessly into a chair. + +After an interval--whether it was a long or a short lapse of time she +was unable to decide--someone gently opened the door. Had her husband +felt for her? Had he returned? "Come in! she cried eagerly--" come in! + + + +CHAPTER XLV + +FACT: RELATED BY FANNY + +THE person who now entered the room was Fanny Mere. + +But one interest was stirring in the mind of Iris now. "Do you know +where your master is?" she asked. + +"I saw him go out," the maid replied. "Which way I didn't particularly +notice--" She was on the point of adding, "and I didn't particularly +care," when she checked herself. "Yesterday and to-day, my lady, things +have come to my knowledge which I must not keep to myself," the +resolute woman continued. "If a servant may say such a thing without +offence, I have never been so truly my mistress's friend as I am now. I +beg you to forgive my boldness; there is a reason for it." + +So she spoke, with no presumption in her looks, with no familiarity in +her manner. The eyes of her friendless mistress filled with tears, the +offered hand of her friendless mistress answered in silence. Fanny took +that kind hand, and pressed it respectfully--a more demonstrative woman +than herself might perhaps have kissed it. She only said, "Thank you, +my lady," and went on with what she felt it her duty to relate. + +As carefully as usual, as quietly as usual, she repeated the +conversation, at Lord Harry's table; describing also the manner in +which Mr. Vimpany had discovered her as a person who understood the +French language, and who had cunningly kept it a secret. In this +serious state of things, the doctor--yes, the doctor himself!--had +interfered to protect her from the anger of her master, and, more +wonderful still, for a reason which it seemed impossible to dispute. He +wanted a nurse for the foreigner whose arrival was expected on that +evening, and he had offered the place to Fanny. "Your ladyship will, I +hope, excuse me; I have taken the place." + +This amazing end to the strange events which had just been narrated +proved to be more than Iris was immediately capable of understanding. +"I am in the dark," she confessed. "Is Mr. Vimpany a bolder villain +even than I have supposed him to be?" + +"That he most certainly is!" Fanny said with strong conviction. "As to +what he really had in his wicked head when he engaged me, I shall find +that out in time. Anyway, I am the nurse who is to help him. When I +disobeyed you this morning, my lady, it was to go to the hospital with +Mr. Vimpany. I was taken to see the person whose nurse I am to be. A +poor, feeble, polite creature, who looked as if he couldn't hurt a +fly---and yet I promise you he startled me! I saw a likeness, the +moment I looked at him." + +"A likeness to anybody whom I know?" Iris asked. + +"To the person in all the world, my lady, whom you know most nearly--a +likeness to my master." + +"What!" + +"Oh, it's no fancy; I am sure of what I say. To my mind, that Danish +man's likeness to my lord is (if you will excuse my language) a nasty +circumstance. I don't know why or wherefore--all I can say is, I don't +like it; and I shan't rest until I have found out what it means. +Besides this, my lady, I must know the reason why they want to get you +out of their way. Please to keep up your heart; I shall warn you in +time, when I am sure of the danger." + +Iris refused to sanction the risk involved in this desperate design. +"It's _you_ who will be in danger!" she exclaimed. + +In her coolest state of obstinacy, Fanny answered: "That's in your +ladyship's service--and that doesn't reckon." + +Feeling gratefully this simple and sincere expression of attachment, +Iris held to her own opinion, nevertheless. + +"You are in my service," she said; "I won't let you go to Mr. Vimpany. +Give it up, Fanny! Give it up!" + +"I'll give it up, my lady, when I know what the doctor means to do--not +before." + +The assertion of authority having failed, Iris tried persuasion next. + +"As your mistress, it is my duty to set you an example," she resumed. +"One of us must be considerate and gentle in a dispute--let me try to +be that one. There can be no harm, and there may be some good, in +consulting the opinion of a friend; some person in whose discretion we +can trust." + +"Am I acquainted with the person your ladyship is thinking of?" Fanny +inquired. "In that case, a friend will know what we want of her by +to-morrow morning. I have written to Mrs. Vimpany." + +"The very person I had in my mind, Fanny! When may we expect to hear +from her?" + +"If Mrs. Vimpany can put what she has to say to us into few words," +Fanny replied, "we shall hear from her to-morrow by telegraph." + +As she answered her mistress in those cheering words, they were +startled by a heavy knock at the door of the room. Under similar +circumstances, Lord Harry's delicate hand would have been just loud +enough to be heard, and no more. Iris called out suspiciously: "Who's +there?" + +The doctor's gross voice answered: "Can I say a word, if you please, to +Fanny Mere?" + +The maid opened the door. Mr. Vimpany's heavy hand laid bold of her +arm, pulled her over the threshold, and closed the door behind her. +After a brief absence, Fanny returned with news of my lord. + +A commissioner had arrived with a message for the doctor; and Fanny was +charged to repeat it or not, just as she thought right under the +circumstances. Lord Harry was in Paris. He had been invited to go to +the theatre with some friends, and to return with them to supper. If he +was late in getting home, he was anxious that my lady should not be +made uneasy. After having authorised Mr. Vimpany's interference in the +garden, the husband evidently had his motives for avoiding another +interview with the wife. Iris was left alone, to think over that +discovery. Fanny had received orders to prepare the bedroom for the +doctor's patient. + + + +CHAPTER XLVI + +MAN AND WIFE + +TOWARDS evening, the Dane was brought to the cottage. + +A feeling of pride which forbade any display of curiosity, strengthened +perhaps by an irresistible horror of Vimpany, kept Iris in her room. +Nothing but the sound of footsteps, outside, told her when the +suffering man was taken to his bed-chamber on the same floor. She was, +afterwards informed by Fanny that the doctor turned down the lamp in +the corridor, before the patient was helped to ascend the stairs, as a +means of preventing the mistress of the house from plainly seeing the +stranger's face, and recognising the living likeness of her husband. + +The hours advanced--the bustle of domestic life sank into +silence--everybody but Iris rested quietly in bed. + +Through the wakeful night the sense of her situation oppressed her +sinking spirits. Mysteries that vaguely threatened danger made their +presence felt, and took their dark way through her thoughts. The +cottage, in which the first happy days of her marriage had been passed, +might ere long be the scene of some evil deed, provoking the lifelong +separation of her husband and herself! Were these the exaggerated fears +of a woman in a state of hysterical suspicion? It was enough for Iris +to remember that Lord Harry and Mr. Vimpany had been alike incapable of +telling her the truth. The first had tried to deceive her; the second +had done his best to frighten her. Why? If there was really nothing to +be afraid of--why? The hours of the early morning came; and still she +listened in vain for the sound of my lord's footstep on the stairs; +still she failed to hear the cautious opening of his dressing-room +door. Leaving her chair, Iris rested on the bed. As time advanced, +exhaustion mastered her; she slept. + +Awakening at a late hour, she rang for Fanny Mere. The master had just +returned. He had missed the latest night-train to Passy; and, rather +than waste money on hiring a carriage at that hour, he had accepted the +offer of a bed at the house of his friends. He was then below stairs, +hoping to see Lady Harry at breakfast. + +His wife joined him. + +Not even at the time of the honeymoon had the Irish lord been a more +irresistibly agreeable man than he was on that memorable morning. His +apologies for having failed to return at the right time were little +masterpieces of grace and gaiety. The next best thing to having been +present, at the theatrical performance of the previous night, was to +hear his satirical summary of the story of the play, contrasting +delightfully with his critical approval of the fine art of the actors. +The time had been when Iris would have resented such merciless trifling +with serious interests as this. In these earlier and better days, she +would have reminded him affectionately of her claim to be received into +his confidence--she would have tried all that tact and gentleness and +patience could do to win his confession of the ascendency exercised +over him by his vile friend--and she would have used the utmost +influence of her love and her resolution to disunite the fatal +fellowship which was leading him to his ruin. + +But Iris Henley was Lady Harry now. + +She was sinking--as Mrs. Vimpany had feared, as Mountjoy had +foreseen--lower and lower on the descent to her husband's level. With a +false appearance of interest in what he was saying she waited for her +chance of matching him with his own weapons of audacious deceit. He +ignorantly offered her the opportunity--setting the same snare to catch +his wife, which she herself had it in contemplation to use for +entrapping her husband into a confession of the truth. + +"Ah, well--I have said more than enough of my last night's amusement," +he confessed. "It's your turn now, my dear. Have you had a look at the +poor fellow whom the doctor is going to cure?" he asked abruptly; eager +to discover whether she had noticed the likeness between Oxbye and +himself. + +Her eyes rested on him attentively. "I have not yet seen the person you +allude to," she answered. "Is Mr. Vimpany hopeful of his recovery?" + +He took out his case, and busied himself in choosing a cigar. In the +course of his adventurous life, he had gained some knowledge of the +effect of his own impetuous temper on others, and of difficulties which +he had experienced when circumstances rendered it necessary to keep his +face in a state of discipline. + +"Oh, there's no reason for anxiety!" he said, with an over-acted +interest in examining his cigar. "Mr. Oxbye is in good hands." + +"People do sometimes sink under an illness," she quietly remarked. + +Without making any reply he took out his matchbox. His hand trembled a +little; he failed at the first attempt to strike a light. + +"And doctors sometimes make mistakes," Iris went on. + +He was still silent. At the second attempt, he succeeded with the +match, and lit his cigar. + +"Suppose Mr. Vimpany made a mistake," she persisted. "In the case of +this stranger, it might lead to deplorable results." + +Lord Harry lost his temper, and with it his colour. + +"What the devil do you mean?" he cried. + +"I might ask, in my turn," she said, "what have I done to provoke an +outbreak of temper? I only made a remark." + +At that critical moment, Fanny Mere entered the room with a telegram in +her hand. + +"For you, my lady." + +Iris opened the telegram. The message was signed by Mrs. Vimpany, and +was expressed in these words: "You may feel it your duty to go to your +father. He is dangerously ill." + +Lord Harry saw a sudden change in his wife's face that roused his +guilty suspicions. "Is it anything about me?" he asked. + +Iris handed the telegram to him in silence. Having looked at it, he +desired to hear what her wishes were. + +"The telegram expresses my wishes," she said. "Have you any objection +to my leaving you?" + +"None whatever," he answered eagerly. "Go, by all means." + +If it had still been possible for her to hesitate, that reply would +have put an end to all further doubt. She turned away to leave the +room. He followed her to the door. + +"I hope you don't think there is any want of sympathy on my part," he +said. "You are quite right to go to your father. That was all I meant." +He was agitated, honestly agitated, while he spoke. Iris saw it, and +felt it gratefully. She was on the point of making a last appeal to his +confidence, when he opened the door for her. "Don't let me detain you," +he said. His voice faltered; he suddenly turned aside before she could +look at him. + +Fanny was waiting in the hall, eager to see the telegram. She read it +twice and reflected for a moment. "How often do things fit themselves +to one's wishes in this convenient way?" she asked herself. "It's +lucky," she privately decided--"almost too lucky. Let me pack up your +things," she continued, addressing her mistress, "while I have some +time to myself. Mr. Oxbye is asleep." + +As the day wore on, the noble influences in the nature of Iris, failing +fast, yet still at rare intervals struggling to assert themselves, +inspired her with the resolution to make a last attempt to give her +husband an opportunity of trusting her. He was not in his room, not in +any other part of the house, not in the garden. The hours passed--she +was left to eat her dinner in solitude. For the second time, he was +avoiding her. For the second time, he distrusted the influence of his +wife. With a heavy heart she prepared for her departure by the +night-mail. + +The duties of the new nurse kept her in the cottage. Filled with alarm +for the faithful creature whom she was leaving--to what fate, who could +say?--Iris kissed her at parting. + +Fanny's faint blue eyes filled with tears. She dashed them away, and +held her mistress for an instant in her arms. "I know whom you are +thinking of," she whispered. "He is not here to bid you good-bye. Let +me see what I can find in his room." Iris had already looked round the +room, in the vain hope of finding a letter. Fanny rushed up the stairs, +determined on a last search--and ran down again with a folded morsel of +flimsy foreign notepaper in her hand. "My ugly eyes are quicker than +yours," she said. "The air must have come in at the window and blown it +off the table." Iris eagerly read the letter: + +"I dare not deny that you will be better away from us, but only for a +while. Forgive me, dearest; I cannot find the courage to say good-bye." +Those few words spoke for him--and no more. + +Briefly on her side, but not unkindly, his wife answered him: + +"You have spared me a bitter moment. May I hope to find the man whom I +have trusted and honoured, when I come back? Good-bye." + +When were they to meet again? And how? + + + +CHAPTER XLVII + +THE PATIENT AND MY LORD + +THERE now remained but one other person in Lord Harry's household whose +presence on the scene was an obstacle to be removed. + +This person was the cook. On condition of her immediate departure +(excused by alleged motives of economy), she received a month's wages +from her master, in advance of the sum due to her, and a written +character which did ample justice to her many good qualities. The poor +woman left her employment with the heartiest expressions of gratitude. +To the end of her days, she declared the Irish lord to be a nobleman by +nature. Republican principles, inherited from her excellent parents, +disinclined her to recognise him as a nobleman by birth. + +But another sweet and simple creature was still left to brighten the +sinister gloom in the cottage. + +The good Dane sorely tried the patience of Fanny Mere. This countryman +of Hamlet, as he liked to call himself, was a living protest against +the sentiments of inveterate contempt and hatred, with which his nurse +was accustomed to regard the men. When pain spared him at intervals, +Mr. Oxbye presented the bright blue eyes and the winning smile which +suggested the resemblance to the Irish lord. His beardless face, thin +towards the lower extremities, completed the likeness in some degree +only. The daring expression of Lord Harry, in certain emergencies, +never appeared. Nursing him carefully, on the severest principles of +duty as distinguished from inclination, Fanny found herself in the +presence of a male human being, who in the painless intervals of his +malady, wrote little poems in her praise; asked for a few flowers from +the garden, and made prettily arranged nosegays of them devoted to +herself; cried, when she told him he was a fool, and kissed her hand +five minutes afterwards, when she administered his medicine, and gave +him no pleasant sweet thing to take the disagreeable taste out of his +mouth. This gentle patient loved Lord Harry, loved Mr. Vimpany, loved +the furious Fanny, resist it as she might. On her obstinate refusal to +confide to him the story of her life--after he had himself set her the +example at great length--he persisted in discovering for himself that +"this interesting woman was a victim of sorrows of the heart." In +another state of existence, he was offensively certain that she would +be living with _him._ "You are frightfully pale, you will soon die; I +shall break a blood-vessel, and follow you; we shall sit side by side +on clouds, and sing together everlastingly to accompaniment of +celestial harps. Oh, what a treat!" Like a child, he screamed when he +was in pain; and, like a child, he laughed when the pain had gone away. +When she was angry enough with him to say, "If I had known what sort of +man you were, I would never have undertaken to nurse you," he only +answered, "my dear, let us thank God together that you did not know." +There was no temper in him to be roused; and, worse still, on buoyant +days, when his spirits were lively, there was no persuading him that he +might not live long enough to marry his nurse, if he only put the +question to her often enough. What was to be done with such a man as +this? Fanny believed that she despised her feeble patient. At the same +time, the food that nourished him was prepared by her own hands--while +the other inhabitants of the cottage were left (in the absence of the +cook) to the tough mercies of a neighbouring restaurant. First and +foremost among the many good deeds by which the conduct of women claims +the gratitude of the other sex, is surely the manner in which they let +an unfortunate man master them, without an unworthy suspicion of that +circumstance to trouble the charitable serenity of their minds. + +Carefully on the look-out for any discoveries which might enlighten +her, Fanny noticed with ever-increasing interest the effect which the +harmless Dane seemed to produce on my lord and the doctor. + +Every morning, after breakfast, Lord Harry presented himself in the +bedroom. Every morning, his courteous interest in his guest expressed +itself mechanically in the same form of words: + +"Mr. Oxbye, how do you find yourself to-day?" + +Sometimes the answer would be: "Gracious lord, I am suffering pain." +Sometimes it was: "Dear and admirable patron, I feel as if I might get +well again." On either occasion, Lord Harry listened without looking at +Mr. Oxbye--said he was sorry to hear a bad account or glad to hear a +good account, without looking at Mr. Oxbye--made a remark on the +weather, and took his leave, without looking at Mr. Oxbye. Nothing +could be more plain than that his polite inquiries (once a day) were +unwillingly made, and that it was always a relief to him to get out of +the room. So strongly was Fanny's curiosity excited by this strange +behaviour, that she ventured one day to speak to her master. + +"I am afraid, my lord, you are not hopeful of Mr. Oxbye's recovering?" + +"Mind your own business," was the savage answer that she received. + +Fanny never again took the liberty of speaking to him; but she watched +him more closely than ever. He was perpetually restless. Now he +wandered from one room to another, and walked round and round the +garden, smoking incessantly. Now he went out riding, or took the +railway to Paris and disappeared for the day. On the rare occasions +when he was in a state of repose, he always appeared to have taken +refuge in his wife's room; Fanny's keyhole-observation discovered him, +thinking miserably, seated in his wife's chair. It seemed to be +possible that he was fretting after Lady Harry. But what did his +conduct to Mr. Oxbye mean? What was the motive which made him persist, +without an attempt at concealment, in keeping out of Mr. Vimpany's way? +And, treated in this rude manner, how was it that his wicked friend +seemed to be always amused, never offended? + +As for the doctor's behaviour to his patient, it was, in Fanny's +estimation, worthy of a savage. + +He appeared to feel no sort of interest in the man who had been sent to +him from the hospital at his own request, and whose malady it was +supposed to be the height of his ambition to cure. When Mr. Oxbye +described his symptoms, Mr. Vimpany hardly even made a pretence at +listening. With a frowning face he applied the stethoscope, felt the +pulse, looked at the tongue--and drew his own conclusions in sullen +silence. If the nurse had a favourable report to make, he brutally +turned his back on her. If discouraging results of the medical +treatment made their appearance at night, and she felt it a duty to +mention them, he sneered as if he doubted whether she was speaking the +truth. Mr. Oxbye's inexhaustible patience and amiability made endless +allowances for his medical advisor. "It is my misfortune to keep my +devoted doctor in a state of perpetual anxiety," he used to say; "and +we all know what a trial to the temper is the consequence of unrelieved +suspense. I believe in Mr. Vimpany." Fanny was careful not to betray +her own opinion by making any reply; her doubts of the doctor had, by +this time, become terrifying doubts even to herself. Whenever an +opportunity favoured her, she vigilantly watched him. One of his ways +of finding amusement, in his leisure hours, was in the use of a +photographic apparatus. He took little pictures of the rooms in the +cottage, which were followed by views in the garden. Those having come +to an end, he completed the mystification of the nurse by producing a +portrait of the Dane, while he lay asleep one day after he had been +improving in health for some little time past. Fanny asked leave to +look at the likeness when it had been "printed" from the negative, in +the garden. He first examined it himself--and then deliberately tore it +up and let the fragments fly away in the wind. "I am not satisfied with +it," was all the explanation he offered. One of the garden chairs +happened to be near him; he sat down, and looked like a man in a state +of torment under his own angry thoughts. + +If the patient's health had altered for the worse, and if the tendency +to relapse had proved to be noticeable after medicine had been +administered, Fanny's first suspicions might have taken a very serious +turn. But the change in Oxbye--sleeping in purer air and sustained by +better food than he could obtain at the hospital--pointed more and more +visibly to a decided gain of vital strength. His hollow checks were +filling out, and colour was beginning to appear again on the pallor of +his skin. Strange as the conduct of Lord Harry and Mr. Vimpany might +be, there was no possibility, thus far, of connecting it with the +position occupied by the Danish guest. Nobody who had seen his face, +when he was first brought to the cottage, could have looked at him +again, after the lapse of a fortnight, and have failed to discover the +signs which promise recovery of health. + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII + +"THE MISTRESS AND THE MAID" + +IN the correspondence secretly carried on between the mistress in +London and the maid at Passy, it was Fanny Mere's turn to write next. +She decided on delaying her reply until she had once more given careful +consideration to the first letter received from Lady Harry, announcing +her arrival in England, and a strange discovery that had attended it. + +Before leaving Paris, Iris had telegraphed instructions to Mrs. Vimpany +to meet her at the terminus in London. Her first inquiries were for her +father. The answer given, with an appearance of confusion and even of +shame, was that there was no need to feel anxiety on the subject of Mr. +Henley's illness. Relieved on hearing this good news, Iris naturally +expressed some surprise at her father's rapid recovery. She asked if +the doctors had misunderstood his malady when they believed him to be +in danger. To this question Mrs. Vimpany had replied by making an +unexpected confession. + +She owned that Mr. Henley's illness had been at no time of any serious +importance. A paragraph in a newspaper had informed her that he was +suffering from nothing worse than an attack of gout. It was a wicked +act to have exaggerated this report, and to have alarmed Lady Harry on +the subject of her father's health. Mrs. Vimpany had but one excuse to +offer. Fanny's letter had filled her with such unendurable doubts and +forebodings that she had taken the one way of inducing Lady Harry to +secure her own safety by at once leaving Passy--the way by a false +alarm. Deceit, so sincerely repented, so resolutely resisted, had tried +its power of temptation again, and had prevailed. + +"When I thought of you at the mercy of my vile husband," Mrs. Vimpany +said, "with your husband but too surely gained as an accomplice, my +good resolutions failed me. Is it only in books that a true repentance +never stumbles again? Or am I the one fallible mortal creature in the +world? I am ashamed of myself. But, oh, Lady Harry, I was so frightened +for you! Try to forgive me; I am so fond of you, and so glad to see you +here in safety. Don't go back! For God's sake, don't go back!" + +Iris had no intention of returning, while the doctor and his patient +were still at Passy; and she found in Mrs. Vimpany's compassion good +reason to forgive an offence committed through devotion to herself, and +atoned for by sincere regret. + +Fanny looked carefully over the next page of the letter, which +described Lady Harry's first interview with Mr. Mountjoy since his +illness. The expressions of happiness on renewing her relations with +her old and dear friend confirmed the maid in her first impression that +there was no fear of a premature return to Passy, with the wish to see +Lord Harry again as the motive. She looked over the later letters +next--and still the good influence of Mr. Mountjoy seemed to be in time +ascendant. There was anxiety felt for Fanny's safety, and curiosity +expressed to hear what discoveries she might have made; but the only +allusions to my lord contained ordinary inquiries relating to the state +of his health, and, on one occasion, there was a wish expressed to know +whether he was still on friendly terms with Mr. Vimpany. There seemed +to be no fear of tempting her mistress to undervalue the danger of +returning to the cottage, if she mentioned the cheering improvement now +visible in Mr. Oxbye. And yet Fanny still hesitated to trust her first +impressions, even after they had been confirmed. Her own sad experience +reminded her of the fatal influence which an unscrupulous man can +exercise over the woman who loves him. It was always possible that Lady +Harry might not choose to confide the state of her feelings towards her +husband to a person who, after all, only occupied the position of her +maid. The absence, in her letters, of any expressions of affectionate +regret was no proof that she was not thinking of my lord. So far as he +was personally concerned, the Dane's prospects of recovery would appear +to justify the action of the doctor and his accomplice. Distrusting +them both as resolutely as ever, and determined to keep Lady Harry as +long as possible at the safe distance of London, Fanny Mere, in writing +her reply, preserved a discreet silence on the subject of Mr. Oxbye's +health. + +[At this point Wilkie Collins' health prevented his finishing the +novel.] + + + +CHAPTER XLIX + +THE NURSE IS SENT AWAY + +"YOU have repented and changed your mind, Vimpany?" said Lord Harry. + +"I repented?" the doctor repeated, with a laugh. "You think me capable +of that, do you?" + +"The man is growing stronger and better every day. You are going to +make him recover, after all. I was afraid"--he corrected himself--"I +thought"--the word was the truer--"that you were going to poison him." + +"You thought I was going--we were going, my lord--to commit a stupid +and a useless crime. And, with our clever nurse present, all the time +watching with the suspicions of a cat, and noting every change in the +symptoms? No--I confess his case has puzzled me because I did not +anticipate this favourable change. Well--it is all for the best. Fanny +sees him grow stronger every day--whatever happens she can testify to +the care with which the man has been treated. So far she thought she +would have us in her power, and we have her." + +"You are mighty clever, Vimpany; but sometimes you are too clever for +me, and, perhaps, too clever for yourself." + +"Let me make myself clearer"--conscious of the nurse's suspicions, he +leaned forward and whispered: "Fanny must go. Now is the time. The man +is recovering. The man must go: the next patient will be your lordship +himself. Now do you understand?" + +"Partly." + +"Enough. If I am to act it is sufficient for you to understand step by +step. Our suspicious nurse is to go. That is the next step. Leave me to +act." + +Lord Harry walked away. He left the thing to the doctor. It hardly +seemed to concern him. A dying man; a conspiracy; a fraud:--yet the +guilty knowledge of all this gave him small uneasiness. He carried with +him his wife's last note: "May I hope to find on my return the man whom +I have trusted and honoured?" His conscience, callous as regards the +doctor's scheme, filled him with remorse whenever--which was fifty +times a day--he took this little rag of a note from his pocket-book and +read it again. Yes: she would always find the man, on her return--the +man whom she had trusted and honoured--the latter clause he passed +over--it would be, of course the same man: whether she would still be +able to trust and honour him--that question he did not put to himself. +After all, the doctor was acting--not he, himself. + +And he remembered Hugh Mountjoy. Iris would be with him--the man whose +affection was only brought out in the stronger light by his respect, +his devotion, and his delicacy. She would be in his society: she would +understand the true meaning of this respect and delicacy: she would +appreciate the depth of his devotion: she would contrast Hugh, the man +she might have married, with himself, the man she did marry. + +And the house was wretched without her; and he hated the sight of the +doctor--desperate and reckless. + +He resolved to write to Iris: he sat down and poured out his heart, but +not his conscience, to her. + +"As for our separation," he said, "I, and only I, am to blame. It is my +own abominable conduct that has caused it. Give me your pardon, dearest +Iris. If I have made it impossible for you to live with me, it is also +impossible for me to live without you. So am I punished. The house is +dull and lonely; the hours crawl, I know not how to kill the time; my +life is a misery and a burden because you are not with me. Yet I have +no right to complain; I ought to rejoice in thinking that you are happy +in being relieved of my presence. My dear, I do not ask you to come at +present"--he remembered, indeed, that her arrival at this juncture +might be seriously awkward--"I cannot ask you to come back yet, but let +me have a little hope--let me feel that in the sweetness of your nature +you will believe in my repentance, and let me look forward to a speedy +reunion in the future." + +When he had written this letter, which he would have done better to +keep in his own hands for awhile, he directed it in a feigned hand to +Lady Harry Norland, care of Hugh Mountjoy, at the latter's London +hotel. Mountjoy would not know Iris's correspondent, and would +certainly forward the letter. He calculated--with the knowledge of her +affectionate and impulsive nature--that Iris would meet him half-way, +and would return whenever he should be able to call her back. He did +not calculate, as will be seen, on the step which she actually took. + +The letter despatched, he came back to the cottage happier--he would +get his wife again. He looked in at the sick-room. The patient was +sitting up, chatting pleasantly; it was the best day he had known; the +doctor was sitting in a chair placed beside the bed, and the nurse +stood quiet, self-composed, but none the less watchful and suspicious. + +"You are going on so well, my man," Doctor Vimpany was saying, "That we +shall have you out and about again in a day or two. Not quite yet, +though--not quite yet," he pulled out his stethoscope and made an +examination with an immense show of professional interest. "My +treatment has succeeded, you see"--he made a note or two in his +pocket-book--"has succeeded," he repeated. "They will have to +acknowledge that." + +"Gracious sir, I am grateful. I have given a great deal too much +trouble." + +"A medical case can never give too much trouble--that is impossible. +Remember, Oxbye, it is Science which watches at your bedside. You are +not Oxbye; you are a case; it is not a man, it is a piece of machinery +that is out of order. Science watches: she sees you through and +through. Though you are made of solid flesh and bones, and clothed, to +Science you are transparent. Her business is not only to read your +symptoms, but to set the machinery right again." + +The Dane, overwhelmed, could only renew his thanks. + +"Can he stand, do you think, nurse?" the doctor went on. "Let us +try--not to walk about much to-day, but to get out of bed, if only to +prove to himself that he is so much better; to make him understand that +he is really nearly well. Come, nurse, let us give him a hand." + +In the most paternal manner possible the doctor assisted his patient, +weak, after so long a confinement to his bed, to get out of bed, and +supported him while he walked to the open window, and looked out into +the garden. "There," he said, "that is enough. Not too much at first. +To-morrow he will have to get up by himself. Well, Fanny, you agree at +last, I suppose, that I have brought this poor man round? At last, eh?" + +His look and his words showed what he meant. "You thought that some +devilry was intended." That was what the look meant. "You proposed to +nurse this man in order to watch for and to discover this devilry. Very +well, what have you got to say?" + +All that Fanny had to say was, submissively, that the man was clearly +much better; and, she added, he had been steadily improving ever since +he came to the cottage. + +That is what she said; but she said it without the light of confidence +in her eyes--she was still doubtful and suspicious. Whatever power the +doctor had of seeing the condition of lungs and hidden machinery, he +certainly had the power of reading this woman's thoughts. He saw, as +clearly as if upon a printed page, the bewilderment of her mind. She +knew that something was intended---something not for her to know. That +the man had been brought to the cottage to be made the subject of a +scientific experiment she did not believe. She had looked to see him +die, but he did not die. He was mending fast; in a little while he +would be as well as ever he had been in his life. What had the doctor +done it for? Was it really possible that nothing was ever intended +beyond a scientific experiment, which had succeeded? In the case of any +other man, the woman's doubts would have been entirely removed; in the +case of Dr. Vimpany these doubts remained. There are some men of whom +nothing good can be believed, whether of motive or of action; for if +their acts seem good, their motive must be bad. Many women know, or +fancy they know, such a man--one who seems to them wholly and +hopelessly bad. Besides, what was the meaning of the secret +conversation and the widespread colloquies of the doctor and my lord? +And why, at first, was the doctor so careless about his patient? + +"The time has come at last," said the doctor that evening, when the two +men were alone, "for this woman to go. The man is getting well rapidly, +he no longer wants a nurse; there is no reason for keeping her. If she +has suspicions there is no longer the least foundation for them; she +has assisted at the healing of a man desperately sick by a skilful +physician. What more? Nothing--positively nothing." + +"Can she tell my wife so much and no more?" asked Lord Harry. "Will +there be no more?" + +"She can tell her ladyship no more, because she will have no more to +tell," the doctor replied quietly. "She would like to learn more; she +is horribly disappointed that there is no more to tell; but she shall +hear no more. She hates me: but she hates your lordship more." + +"Why?" + +"Because her mistress loves you still. Such a woman as this would like +to absorb the whole affection of her mistress in herself. You laugh. +She is a servant, and a common person. How can such a person conceive +an affection so strong as to become a passion for one so superior? But +it is true. It is perfectly well known, and there have been many +recorded instances of such a woman, say a servant, greatly inferior in +station, conceiving a desperate affection for her mistress, accompanied +by the fiercest jealousy. Fanny Mere is jealous--and of you. She hates +you; she wants your wife to hate you. She would like nothing better +than to go back to her mistress with the proofs in her hand of such +acts on your part--such acts, I say," he chose his next words +carefully, "as would keep her from you for ever." + +"She's a devil, I dare say," said Lord Harry, carelessly. "What do I +care? What does it matter to me whether a lady's maid, more or less, +hates me or loves me?" + +"There spoke the aristocrat. My lord, remember that a lady's maid is a +woman. You have been brought up to believe, perhaps, that people in +service are not men and women. That is a mistake--a great mistake. +Fanny Mere is a woman--that is to say, an inferior form of man; and +there is no man in the world so low or so base as not to be able to do +mischief. The power of mischief is given to every one of us. It is the +true, the only Equality of Man--we can all destroy. What? a shot in the +dark; the striking of a lucifer match; the false accusation; the false +witness; the defamation of character;--upon my word, it is far more +dangerous to be hated by a woman than by a man. And this excellent and +faithful Fanny, devoted to her mistress, hates you, my lord, even +more"--he paused and laughed--"even more than the charming Mrs. Vimpany +hates her husband. Never mind. To-morrow we see the last of Fanny Mere. +She goes; she leaves her patient rapidly recovering. That is the fact +that she carries away--not the fact she hoped and expected to carry +away. She goes to-morrow and she will never come back again." + +The next morning the doctor paid a visit to his patient rather earlier +than usual. He found the man going on admirably: fresh in colour, +lively and cheerful, chatting pleasantly with his nurse. + +"So," said Dr. Vimpany, after the usual examination and questions, +"this is better than I expected. You are now able to get up. You can do +so by-and-by, after breakfast; you can dress yourself, you want no more +help. Nurse," he turned to Fanny, "I think that we have done with you. +I am satisfied with the careful watch you have kept over my patient. If +ever you think of becoming a nurse by profession, rely on my +recommendation. The experiment," he added, thoughtfully, "has fully +succeeded. I cannot deny that it has been owing partly to the +intelligence and patience with which you have carried out my +instructions. But I think that your services may now be relinquished." + +"When am I to go, sir?" she asked, impassively. + +"In any other case I should have said, 'Stay a little longer, if you +please. Use your own convenience.' In your case I must say, 'Go to your +mistress.' Her ladyship was reluctant to leave you behind. She will be +glad to have you back again. How long will you take to get ready?" + +"I could be ready in ten minutes, if it were necessary." + +"That is not necessary. You can take the night mail _via_ Dieppe and +Newhaven. It leaves Paris at 9.50. Give yourself an hour to get from +station to station. Any time, therefore, this evening before seven +o'clock will do perfectly well. You will ask his lordship for any +letters or messages he may have." + +"Yes, sir," Fanny replied. "With your permission, sir, I will go at +once, so as to get a whole day in Paris." + +"As you please, as you please," said the doctor, wondering why she +wanted a day in Paris; but it could have nothing to do with his sick +man. He left the room, promising to see the Dane again in an hour or +two, and took up a position at the garden gate through which the nurse +must pass. In about half an hour she walked down the path carrying her +box. The doctor opened the gate for her. + +"Good-bye, Fanny," he said. "Again, many thanks for your care and your +watchfulness--especially the latter. I am very glad," he said, with +what he meant for the sweetest smile, but it looked like a grin, "that +it has been rewarded in such a way as you hardly perhaps expected." + +"Thank you, sir," said the girl. "The man is nearly well now, and can +do without me very well indeed." + +"The box is too heavy for you, Fanny. Nay, I insist upon it: I shall +carry it to the station for you." + +It was not far to the station, and the box was not too heavy, but Fanny +yielded it. "He wants to see me safe out of the station," she thought. + +"I will see her safe out of the place," he thought. + +Ten minutes later the doors of the _salle d'attente_ were thrown open, +the train rolled in, and Fanny was carried away. + +The doctor returned thoughtfully to the house. The time was come for +the execution of his project. Everybody was out of the way. + +"She is gone," he said, when Lord Harry returned for breakfast at +eleven. "I saw her safely out of the station." + +"Gone!" his confederate echoed: "and I am alone in the house with you +and--and----" + +"The sick man--henceforth, yourself, my lord, yourself." + + + +CHAPTER L + +IN THE ALCOVE + +THE doctor was wrong. Fanny Mere did return, though he did not discover +the fact. + +She went away in a state of mind which is dangerous when it possesses a +woman of determination. The feminine mind loves to understand motives +and intentions; it hates to be puzzled. Fanny was puzzled. Fanny could +not understand what had been intended and what was now meant. For, +first, a man, apparently dying, had been brought into the house--why? +Then the man began slowly to recover, and the doctor, whose attentions +had always been of the most slender character, grew more morose every +day. Then he suddenly, on the very day when he sent her away, became +cheerful, congratulated the patient on his prospect of recovery, and +assisted in getting him out of bed for a change. The cook having been +sent away, there was now no one in the house but the Dane, the doctor, +and Lord Harry. + +Man hunts wild creatures; woman hunts man. Fanny was impelled by the +hunting instinct. She was sent out of the house to prevent her hunting; +she began to consider next, how, without discovery, she could return +and carry on the hunt. + +Everything conspired to drive her back: the mystery of the thing; the +desire to baffle, or at least to discover, a dark design; the wish to +be of service to her mistress; and the hope of finding out something +which would keep Iris from going back to her husband. Fanny was unable +to comprehend the depth of her mistress's affection for Lord Harry; but +that she was foolishly, weakly in love with him, and that she would +certainly return to him unless plain proofs of real villainy were +prepared--so much Fanny understood very well. When the omnibus set her +down, she found a quiet hotel near the terminus for Dieppe. She spent +the day walking about--to see the shops and streets, she would have +explained; to consider the situation, she should have explained. She +bought a new dress, a new hat, and a thick veil, so as to be disguised +at a distance. As for escaping the doctor's acuteness by any disguise +should he meet her face to face, that was impossible. But her mind was +made up--she would run any risk, meet any danger, in order to discover +the meaning of all this. + +Next morning she returned by an omnibus service which would allow her +to reach the cottage at about a quarter-past eleven. She chose this +time for two reasons: first, because breakfast was sent in from the +restaurant at eleven, and the two gentlemen would certainly be in the +_salle 'a manger_ over that meal; and, next, because the doctor always +visited his patient after breakfast. She could, therefore, hope to get +in unseen, which was the first thing. + +The spare bedroom--that assigned to the patient--was on the +ground-floor next to the dining-room; it communicated with the garden +by French windows, and by a small flight of steps. + +Fanny walked cautiously along the road past the garden-gate; a rapid +glance assured her that no one was there; she hastily opened the gate +and slipped in. She knew that the windows of the sick-room were closed +on the inner side, and the blinds were still down. The patient, +therefore, had not yet been disturbed or visited. The windows of the +dining-room were on the other side of the house. The woman therefore +slipped round to the back, where she found, as she expected, the door +wide open. In the hall she heard the voices of the doctor and Lord +Harry and the clicking of knives and forks. They were at breakfast. + +One thing more--What should she say to Oxbye? What excuse should she +make for coming back? How should she persuade him to keep silence about +her presence? His passion suggested a plan and a reason. She had come +back, she would tell him, for love of him, to watch over him, unseen by +the doctor, to go away with him when he was strong enough to travel. He +was a simple and a candid soul, and he would fall into such a little +innocent conspiracy. Meantime, it would be quite easy for her to remain +in the house perfectly undisturbed and unknown to either of the +gentlemen. + +She opened the door and looked in. + +So far, no reason would be wanted. The patient was sleeping peacefully. +But not in the bed. He was lying, partly dressed and covered with a +blanket, on the sofa. With the restlessness of convalescence he had +changed his couch in the morning after a wakeful night, and was now +sleeping far into the morning. + +The bed, as is common in French houses, stood in an alcove. A heavy +curtain hung over a rod, also in the French manner. Part of this +curtain lay over the head of the bed. + +The woman perceived the possibility of using the curtain as a means of +concealment. There was a space of a foot between the bed and the wall. +She placed herself, therefore, behind the bed, in this space, at the +head, where the curtain entirely concealed her. Nothing was more +unlikely than that the doctor should look behind the bed in that +corner. Then with her scissors she pierced a hole in the curtain large +enough for her to see perfectly without the least danger of being seen, +and she waited to see what would happen. + +She waited for half an hour, during which the sleeping man slept on +without movement, and the voices of the two men in the _salle 'a +manger_ rose and fell in conversation. Presently there was silence, +broken only by an occasional remark. "They have lit their cigars," +Fanny murmured; "they will take their coffee, and in a few minutes they +will be here." + +When they came in a few minutes later, they had their cigars, and Lord +Harry's face was slightly flushed, perhaps with the wine he had taken +at breakfast--perhaps with the glass of brandy after his coffee. + +The doctor threw himself into a chair and crossed his legs, looking +thoughtfully at his patient. Lord Harry stood over him. + +"Every day," he said, "the man gets better." + +"He has got better every day, so far," said the doctor. + +"Every day his face gets fatter, and he grows less like me." + +"It is true," said the doctor. + +"Then--what the devil are we to do?" + +"Wait a little longer," said the doctor. + +The woman in her hiding-place hardly dared to breathe. + +"What?" asked Lord Harry. "You mean that the man, after all--" + +"Wait a little longer," the doctor repeated quietly. + +"Tell me"--Lord Harry bent over the sick man eagerly--"you think----" + +"Look here," the doctor said. "Which of us two has had a medical +education--you, or I?" + +"You, of course." + +"Yes; I, of course. Then I tell you, as a medical man, that appearances +are sometimes deceptive. This man, for instance--he looks better; he +thinks he is recovering; he feels stronger. You observe that he is +fatter in the face. His nurse, Fanny Mere, went away with the knowledge +that he was much better, and the conviction that he was about to leave +the house as much recovered as such a patient with such a disorder can +expect." + +"Well?" + +"Well, my lord, allow me to confide in you. Medical men mostly keep +their knowledge in such matters to themselves. We know and recognise +symptoms which to you are invisible. By these symptoms--by those +symptoms," he repeated slowly and looking hard at the other man, "I +know that this man--no longer Oxbye, my patient, but--another--is in a +highly dangerous condition. I have noted the symptoms in my book"--he +tapped his pocket--"for future use." + +"And when--when----" Lord Harry was frightfully pale. His lips moved, +but he could not finish the sentence. The Thing he had agreed to was +terribly near, and it looked uglier than he had expected. + +"Oh! when?" the doctor replied carelessly. "Perhaps to-day--perhaps in +a week. Here, you see, Science is sometimes baffled. I cannot say." + +Lord Harry breathed deeply. "If the man is in so serious a condition," +he said, "is it safe or prudent for us to be alone in the house without +a servant and without a nurse?" + +"I was not born yesterday, my lord, I assure you," said the doctor in +his jocular way. "They have found me a nurse. She will come to-day. My +patient's life is, humanly speaking"--Lord Harry shuddered--"perfectly +safe until her arrival." + +"Well--but she is a stranger. She must know whom she is nursing." + +"Certainly. She will be told--I have already told her--that she is +going to nurse Lord Harry Norland, a young Irish gentleman. She is a +stranger. That is the most valuable quality she possesses. She is a +complete stranger. As for you, what are you? Anything you please. An +English gentleman staying with me under the melancholy circumstances of +his lordship's illness. What more natural? The English doctor is +staying with his patient, and the English friend is staying with the +doctor. When the insurance officer makes inquiries, as he is very +likely to do, the nurse will be invaluable for the evidence she will +give." + +He rose, pulled up the blinds noiselessly, and opened the windows. +Neither the fresh air nor the light awoke the sleeping man. + +Vimpany looked at his watch. "Time for the medicine," he said. "Wake +him up while I get it ready." + +"Would you not--at least---suffer him to have his sleep out?" asked +Lord Harry, again turning pale. + +"Wake him up. Shake him by the shoulder. Do as I tell you," said the +doctor, roughly. "He will go to sleep again. It is one of the finer +qualities of my medicine that it sends people to sleep. It is a most +soothing medicine. It causes a deep--a profound sleep. Wake him up, I +say." he went to the cupboard in which the medicines were kept. Lord +Harry with some difficulty roused the sick man, who awoke dull and +heavy, asking why he was disturbed. + +"Time for your medicine, my good fellow," said the doctor. "Take it, +and you shall not be disturbed again--I promise you that." + +The door of the cupboard prevented the spy from seeing what the doctor +was doing; but he took longer than usual in filling the glass. Lord +Harry seemed to observe this, for he left the Dane and looked over the +doctor's shoulder. "What are you doing?" he asked in a whisper. + +"Better not inquire, my lord," said the doctor. "What do you know about +the mysteries of medicine?" + +"Why must I not inquire?" + +Vimpany turned, closing the cupboard behind him. In his hand was a +glass full of the stuff he was about to administer. + +"If you look in the glass," he said, "you will understand why." + +Lord Harry obeyed. He saw a face ghastly in pallor: he shrank back and +fell into a chair, saying no more. + +"Now, my good friend," said the doctor, "drink this and you'll be +better--ever so much better, ever so much better. Why--that is +brave----" he looked at him strangely, "How do you like the medicine?" + +Oxbye shook his head as a man who has taken something nauseous. "I +don't like it at all," he said. "It doesn't taste like the other +physic." + +"No I have been changing it--improving it." + +The Dane shook his head again. "There's a pain in my throat," he said; +"it stings--it burns!" + +"Patience--patience. It will pass away directly, and you will lie down +again and fall asleep comfortably." + +Oxbye sank back upon the sofa. His eyes closed. Then he opened them +again, looking about him strangely, as one who is suffering some new +experience. Again he shook his head, again he closed his eyes, and he +opened them no more. He was asleep. + +The doctor stood at his head watching gravely. Lord Harry, in his +chair, leaned forward, also watching, but with white face and trembling +hands. + +As they watched, the man's head rolled a little to the side, turning +his face more towards the room. Then a curious and terrifying thing +happened. His mouth began slowly to fall open. + +"Is he--is he--is he fainting?" Lord Harry whispered. + +"No; he is asleep. Did you never see a man sleep with his mouth wide +open?" + +They were silent for a space. + +The doctor broke the silence. + +"There's a good light this morning," he said carelessly. "I think I +will try a photograph. Stop! Let me tie up his mouth with a +handkerchief--so." The patient was not disturbed by the operation, +though the doctor tied up the handkerchief with vigour enough to awaken +a sound sleeper. "Now--we'll see if he looks like a post-mortem +portrait." + +He went into the next room, and returned with his camera. In a few +minutes he had taken the picture, and was holding the glass negative +against the dark sleeve of his coat, so as to make it visible. "We +shall see how it looks," he said, "when it is printed. At present I +don't think it is good enough as an imitation of you to be sent to the +insurance offices. Nobody, I am afraid, who knew you, would ever take +this for a post-mortem portrait of Lord Harry. Well, we shall see. +Perhaps by-and-by--to-morrow--we may be able to take a better +photograph. Eh?" Lord Harry followed his movements, watching him +closely, but said nothing. His face remained pale and his fingers still +trembled. There was now no doubt at all in his mind, not only as to +Vimpany's intentions, but as to the crime itself. He dared not speak or +move. + +A ring at the door pealed through the house. Lord Harry started in his +chair with a cry of terror. + +"That," said the doctor, quietly, "is the nurse--the new nurse---the +stranger." He took off the handkerchief from Oxbye's face, looked about +the room as if careful that everything should be in its right place, +and went out to admit the woman. Lord Harry sprang to his feet and +passed his hand over the sick man's face. + +"Is it done?" he whispered. "Can the man be poisoned? Is he already +dead?--already? Before my eyes?" + +He laid his finger on the sick man's pulse. But the doctor's step and +voice stopped him. Then the nurse came in, following Vimpany. She was +an elderly, quiet-looking French woman. + +Lord Harry remained standing at the side of the sofa, hoping to see the +man revive. + +"Now," said Vimpany, cheerfully, "here is your patient, nurse. He is +asleep now. Let him have his sleep out--he has taken his medicine and +will want nothing more yet awhile. If you want anything let me know. We +shall be in the next room or in the garden--somewhere about the house. +Come, my friend." He drew away Lord Harry gently by the arm, and they +left the room. + +Behind the curtain Fanny Mere began to wonder how she was to get off +unseen. + +The nurse, left alone, looked at her patient, who lay with his head +turned partly round, his eyes closed, his mouth open. "A strange +sleep," she murmured; "but the doctor knows, I suppose. He is to have +his sleep out." + +"A strange sleep, indeed!" thought the watcher. She was tempted at this +moment to disclose herself and to reveal what she had seen; but the +thought of Lord Harry's complicity stopped her. With what face could +she return to her mistress and tell her that she herself was the means +of her husband being charged with murder? She stayed herself, +therefore, and waited. + +Chance helped her, at last, to escape. + +The nurse took off her bonnet and shawl and began to look about the +room. She stepped to the bed and examined the sheets and pillow-case as +a good French housewife should. Would she throw back the curtain? If +so--what would happen next? Then it would become necessary to take the +new nurse into confidence, otherwise----Fanny did not put the +remainder of this sentence into words. It remained a terror: it meant +that if Vimpany found out where she had been and what she had seen and +heard, there would be two, instead of one, cast into a deep slumber. + +The nurse turned from the bed, however, attracted by the half-open door +of the cupboard. Here were the medicine bottles. She took them out one +by one, looked at them with professional curiosity, pulled out the +corks, smelt the contents, replaced the bottles. Then she went to the +window, which stood open; she stepped out upon the stone steps which +led into the garden, looking about her, to breathe the soft air of noon +among the flowers. + +She came back, and it again seemed as if she would examine the bed, but +her attention was attracted by a small book-case. She began to pull +down the books one after the other and to turn them over, as a +half-educated person does, in the hope of finding something amusing. +She found a book with pictures. Then she sat down in the armchair +beside the sofa and began to turn over the leaves slowly. How long was +this going to last? + +It lasted about half an hour. The nurse laid down the volume with a +yawn, stretched herself, yawned again, crossed her hands, and closed +her eyes. She was going to sleep. If she would only fall so fast asleep +that the woman behind the curtain could creep away! + +But sometimes at the sleepiest moment sleep is driven away by an +accident. The accident in this case was that the nurse before finally +dropping off remembered that she was nursing a sick man, and sat up to +look at him before she allowed herself to drop off. + +Stung with sudden inspiration she sprang to her feet and bent over the +man. "Does he breathe?" she asked. She bent lower. "His pulse! does it +beat?" she caught his wrist. + +"Doctor!" she shrieked, running into the garden. "Doctor! Come--come +quick! He is dead!" + +Fanny Mere stepped from her hiding-place and ran out of the back door, +and by the garden gate into the road. + +She had escaped. She had seen the crime committed. She knew now at +least what was intended and why she was sent away. The motive for the +crime she could not guess. + + + +CHAPTER LI + +WHAT NEXT? + +WHAT should she do with the terrible secret? + +She ought to inform the police. But there were two objections. First, +the nurse may have been mistaken in supposing her patient to be dead. +She herself had no choice but to escape as she did. Next, the dreadful +thought occurred to her that she herself until the previous day had +been the man's nurse--his only nurse, day and night. What was to +prevent the doctor from fixing the guilt of poisoning upon herself? +Nay; it would be his most obvious line of action. The man was left +alone all the morning; the day before he had shown every sign of +returning strength; she would have to confess that she was in hiding. +How long had she been there? Why was she in hiding? Was it not after +she had poisoned the man and when she heard the doctor's footstep? +Naturally ignorant of poisons and their symptoms, it seemed to her as +if these facts so put together would be conclusive against her. +Therefore, she determined to keep quiet in Paris that day and to cross +over by the night boat from Dieppe in the evening. She would at first +disclose everything to Mrs. Vimpany and to Mountjoy. As to what she +would tell her mistress she would be guided by the advice of the +others. + +She got to London in safety and drove straight to Mr. Mountjoy's hotel, +proposing first to communicate the whole business to him. But she found +in his sitting-room Mrs. Vimpany herself. + +"We must not awake him," she said, "whatever news you bring. His +perfect recovery depends entirely on rest and quiet. There"--she +pointed to the chimneypiece--"is a letter in my lady's handwriting. I +am afraid I know only too well what it tells him." + +"What does it tell?" + +"This very morning," Mrs. Vimpany went on, "I called at her lodging. +She has gone away." + +"Gone away? My lady gone away? Where is she gone?" + +"Where do you think she is most likely to have gone?" + +"Not?--oh!--not to her husband? Not to him!--oh! this is more +terrible--far more terrible--than you can imagine." + +"You will tell me why it is now so much more terrible. Meantime, I find +that the cabman was told to drive to Victoria. That is all I know. I +have no doubt, however, but that she has gone back to her husband. She +has been in a disturbed, despondent condition ever since she arrived in +London. Mr. Mountjoy has been as kind as usual: but he has not been +able to chase away her sadness. Whether she was fretting after her +husband, or whether--but this I hardly think--she was comparing the man +she had lost with the man she had taken--but I do not know. All I do +know is that she has been uneasy ever since she came from France, and +what I believe is that she has been reproaching herself with leaving +her husband without good cause." + +"Good cause!" echoed Fanny. "Oh! good gracious! If she only knew, +there's cause enough to leave a hundred husbands." + +"Nothing seemed to rouse her," Mrs. Vimpany continued, without +regarding the interruption. "I went with her to the farm to see her +former maid, Rhoda. The girl's health is re-established; she is engaged +to marry the farmer's brother. Lady Harry was kind, and said the most +pleasant things; she even pulled off one of her prettiest rings and +gave it to the girl. But I could see that it was an effort for her to +appear interested--her thoughts were with her husband all the time. I +was sure it would end in this way, and I am not in the least surprised. +But what will Mr. Mountjoy say when he opens the letter?" + +"Back to her husband!" Fanny repeated. "Oh! what shall we do?" + +"Tell me what you mean. What has happened?" + +"I must tell you. I thought I would tell Mr. Mountjoy first: but I must +tell you, although--" She stopped. + +"Although it concerns my husband. Never mind that consideration--go +on." Fanny told the story from the beginning. + +When she had finished, Mrs. Vimpany looked towards the bedroom door. +"Thank God!" she said, "that you told this story to me instead of to +Mr. Mountjoy. At all events, it gives me time to warn you not to tell +him what you have told me. We can do nothing. Meantime, there is one +thing you must do--go away. Do not let Mr. Mountjoy find you here. He +must not learn your story. If he hears what has happened and reads her +letter, nothing will keep him from following her to Passy. He will see +that there is every prospect of her being entangled in this vile +conspiracy, and he will run any risk in the useless attempt to save +her. He is too weak to bear the journey--far too weak for the violent +emotions that will follow; and, oh! how much too weak to cope with my +husband--as strong and as crafty as he is unprincipled! + +"Then, what, in Heaven's name, are we to do?" + +"Anything--anything--rather than suffer Mr. Mountjoy, in his weak +state, to interfere between man and wife." + +"Yes--yes--but such a man! Mrs. Vimpany, he was present when the Dane +was poisoned. He _knew_ that the man was poisoned. He sat in the chair, +his face white, and he said nothing. Oh! It was as much as I could do +not to rush out and dash the glass from his hands. Lord Harry said +nothing." + +"My dear, do you not understand what you have got to do?" + +Fanny made no reply. + +"Consider--my husband---Lord Harry--neither of them knows that you were +present. You can return with the greatest safety; and then whatever +happens, you will be at hand to protect my lady. Consider, again, as +her maid, you can be with her always--in her own room; at night; +everywhere and at all times; while Mr. Mountjoy could only be with her +now and then, and at the price of not quarrelling with her husband." + +"Yes," said Fanny. + +"And you are strong, and Mr. Mountjoy is weak and ill." + +"You think that I should go back to Passy?" + +"At once, without the delay of an hour. Lady Harry started last night. +Do you start this evening. She will thus have you with her twenty-four +hours after her arrival." + +Fanny rose. + +"I will go," she said. "It terrifies me even to think of going back to +that awful cottage with that dreadful man. Yet I will go. Mrs. Vimpany, +I know that it will be of no use. Whatever is going to happen now will +happen without any power of mine to advance or to prevent. I am certain +that my journey will prove useless. But I will go. Yes, I will go this +evening." + +Then, with a final promise to write as soon as possible--as soon as +there should be anything to communicate--Fanny went away. + +Mrs. Vimpany, alone, listened. From the bedroom came no sound at all. +Mr. Mountjoy slept still. When he should be strong enough it would be +time to let him know what had been done. But she sat +thinking--thinking--even when one has the worst husband in the world, +and very well knows his character, it is disagreeable to hear such a +story as Fanny had told that wife this morning. + + + +CHAPTER LII + +THE DEAD MAN'S PHOTOGRAPH + +"HE is quite dead," said the doctor, with one finger on the man's pulse +and another lifting his eyelid. "He is dead. I did not look for so +speedy an end. It is not half an hour since I left him breathing +peacefully. Did he show signs of consciousness?" + +"No, sir; I found him dead." + +"This morning he was cheerful. It is not unusual in these complaints. I +have observed it in many cases of my own experience. On the last +morning of life, at the very moment when Death is standing on the +threshold with uplifted dart, the patient is cheerful and even joyous: +he is more hopeful than he has felt for many months: he thinks--nay, he +is sure--that he is recovering: he says he shall be up and about before +long: he has not felt so strong since the beginning of his illness. +Then Death strikes him, and he falls." He made this remark in a most +impressive manner. + +"Nothing remains," he said, "but to certify the cause of death and to +satisfy the proper forms and authorities. I charge myself with this +duty. The unfortunate young man belonged to a highly distinguished +family. I will communicate with his friends and forward his papers. One +last office I can do for him. For the sake of his family, nurse, I will +take a last photograph of him as he lies upon his death-bed." Lord +Harry stood in the doorway, listening with an aching and a fearful +heart. He dared not enter the chamber. It was the Chamber of Death. +What was his own part in calling the Destroying Angel who is at the +beck and summons of every man--even the meanest? Call him and he comes. +Order him to strike--and he obeys. But under penalties. + +The doctor's prophecy, then, had come true. But in what way and by what +agency? The man was dead. What was his own share in the man's death? He +knew when the Dane was brought into the house that he was brought there +to die. As the man did not die, but began to recover fast, he had seen +in the doctor's face that the man would have to die. He had heard the +doctor prophesy out of his medical knowledge that the man would surely +die; and then, after the nurse had been sent away because her patient +required her services no longer, he had seen the doctor give the +medicine which burned the patient's throat. What was that medicine? Not +only had it burned his throat, but it caused him to fall into a deep +sleep, in which his heart ceased to beat and his blood ceased to flow. + +He turned away and walked out of the cottage. For an hour he walked +along the road. Then he stopped and walked back. Ropes drew him; he +could no longer keep away. He felt as if something must have happened. +Possibly he would find the doctor arrested and the police waiting for +himself, to be charged as an accomplice or a principal. + +He found no such thing. The doctor was in the salon, with letters and +official forms before him. He looked up cheerfully. + +"My English friend," he said, "the unexpected end of this young Irish +gentleman is a very melancholy affair. I have ascertained the name of +the family solicitors and have written to them. I have also written to +his brother as the head of the house. I find also, by examination of +his papers, that his life is insured--the amount is not stated, but I +have communicated the fact of the death. The authorities--they are, +very properly, careful in such matters--have received the necessary +notices and forms: to-morrow, all legal forms having been gone through, +we bury the deceased." + +"So soon?" + +"So soon? In these eases of advanced pulmonary disease the sooner the +better. The French custom of speedy interment may be defended as more +wholesome than our own. On the other hand, I admit that it has its weak +points. Cremation is, perhaps, the best and only method of removing the +dead which is open to no objections except one. I mean, of course, the +chance that the deceased may have met with his death by means of +poison. But such cases are rare, and, in most instances, would be +detected by the medical man in attendance before or at the time of +death. I think we need not----My dear friend, you look ill. Are you +upset by such a simple thing as the death of a sick man? Let me +prescribe for you. A glass of brandy neat. So," he went into the _salle +'a manger_ and returned with his medicine. "Take that. Now let us +talk." The doctor continued his conversation in a cheerfully scientific +strain, never alluding to the conspiracy or to the consequences which +might follow. He told hospital stories bearing on deaths sudden and +unexpected; some of them he treated in a jocular vein. The dead man in +the next room was a Case: he knew of many similar and equally +interesting Cases. When one has arrived at looking upon a dead man as a +Case, there is little fear of the ordinary human weakness which makes +us tremble in the awful presence of death. + +Presently steps were heard outside. The doctor rose and left the +room--but returned in a few minutes. + +"The _croque-morts_ have come," he said. "They are with the nurse +engaged upon their business. It seems revolting to the outside world. +To them it is nothing but the daily routine of work. By-the-way, I took +a photograph of his lordship in the presence of the nurse. +Unfortunately--but look at it----" + +"It is the face of the dead man"--Lord Harry turned away. "I don't want +to see it. I cannot bear to see it. You forget--I was actually present +when--" + +"Not when he died. Come, don't be a fool. What I was going to say was +this: The face is no longer in the least like you. Nobody who ever saw +you once even would believe that this is your face. The creature--he +has given us an unconscionable quantity of trouble--was a little like +you when he first came. I was wrong in supposing that this likeness was +permanent. Now he is dead, he is not in the least like you. I ought to +have remembered that the resemblance would fade away and disappear in +death. Come and look at him." + +"No, no." + +"Weakness! Death restores to every man his individuality. No two men +are like in death, though they may be like in life. Well. It comes to +this. We are going to bury Lord Harry Norland to-morrow, and we must +have a photograph of him as he lay on his deathbed." + +"Well?" + +"Well, my friend, go upstairs to your own room, and I will follow with +the camera." + + +In a quarter of an hour he was holding the glass against his sleeve. + +"Admirable!" he said. "The cheek a little sunken--that was the effect +of the chalk and the adjustment of the shadows--the eyes closed, the +face white, the hands composed. It is admirable! Who says that we +cannot make the sun tell lies?" + +As soon as he could get a print of the portrait, he gave it to Lord +Harry. + +"There," he said, "we shall get a better print to-morrow. This is the +first copy." + +He had mounted it on a frame of card, and had written under it the name +once borne by the dead man, with the date of his death. The picture +seemed indeed that of a dead man. Lord Harry shuddered. + +"There," he said, "everything else has been of no use to us--the +presence of the sick man--the suspicions of the nurse--his death--even +his death--has been of no use to us. We might have been spared the +memory--the awful memory--of this death!" + +"You forget, my English friend, that a dead body was necessary for us. +We had to bury somebody. Why not the man Oxbye?" + + + +CHAPTER LIII + +THE WIFE'S RETURN + +OF course Mrs. Vimpany was quite right. Iris had gone back to her +husband. She arrived, in fact, at the cottage in the evening just +before dark--in the falling day, when some people are more than +commonly sensitive to sights and sounds, and when the eyes are more apt +than at other times to be deceived by strange appearances. Iris walked +into the garden, finding no one there. She opened the door with her own +key and let herself in. The house struck her as strangely empty and +silent. She opened the dining-room door: no one was there. Like all +French dining-rooms, it was used for no other purpose than for eating, +and furnished with little more than the barest necessaries. She closed +the door and opened that of the salon: that also was empty. She called +her husband: there was no answer. She called the name of the cook: +there was no answer. It was fortunate that she did not open the door of +the spare room, for there lay the body of the dead man. She went +upstairs to her husband's room. That too was empty. But there was +something lying on the table--a photograph. She took it up. Her face +became white suddenly and swiftly. She shrieked aloud, then drooped the +picture and fell fainting to the ground. For the photograph was nothing +less than that of her husband, dead in his white graveclothes, his +hands composed, his eyes closed, his cheek waxen. + +The cry fell upon the ears of Lord Harry, who was in the garden below. +He rushed into the house and lifted his wife upon the bed. The +photograph showed him plainly what had happened. + +She came to her senses again, but seeing her husband alive before her, +and remembering what she had seen, she shrieked again, and fell into +another swoon. + +"What is to be done now?" asked the husband. "What shall I tell her? +How shall I make her understand? What can I do for her?" + +As for help, there was none: the nurse was gone on some errand; the +doctor was arranging for the funeral of Oxbye under the name of Lord +Harry Norland; the cottage was empty. + +Such a fainting fit does not last for ever. Iris came round, and sat +up, looking wildly around. + +"What is it?" she cried. "What does it mean?" + +"It means, my love, that you have returned to your husband." He laid an +arm round her, and kissed her again and again. + +"You are my Harry!--living!--my own Harry?" + +"Your own Harry, my darling. What else should I be?" + +"Tell me then, what does it mean--that picture--that horrid +photograph?" + +"That means nothing--nothing--a freak--a joke of the doctor's. What +could it mean?" He took it up. "Why, my dear, I am living--living and +well. What should this mean but a joke?" + +He laid it on the table again, face downwards. But her eyes showed that +she was not satisfied. Men do not make jokes on death; it is a sorry +jest indeed to dress up a man in grave-clothes, and make a photograph +of him as of one dead. + +"But you--you, my Iris; you are here--tell me how and why--and when, +and everything? Never mind that stupid picture: tell me." + +"I got your letter, Harry," she replied. + +"My letter?" he repeated. "Oh! my dear, you got my letter, and you saw +that your husband loved you still." + +"I could not keep away from you, Harry, whatever had happened. I stayed +as long as I could. I thought about you day and night. And at last +I--I--I came back. Are you angry with me, Harry?" + +"Angry? Good God! my dearest, angry?" He kissed her passionately--not +the less passionately that she had returned at a time so terrible. What +was he to say to her? How was he to tell her? While he showered kisses +on her he was asking himself these questions. When she found out--when +he should confess to her the whole truth--she would leave him again. +Yet he did not understand the nature of the woman who loves. He held +her in his arms; his kisses pleaded for him; they mastered her--she was +ready to believe, to accept, to surrender even her truth and honesty; +and she was ready, though she knew it not, to become the accomplice of +a crime. Rather than leave her husband again, she would do everything. + +Yet, Lord Harry felt there was one reservation: he might confess +everything, except the murder of the Dane. No word of confession had +passed the doctor's lips, yet he knew too well that the man had been +murdered; and, so far as the man had been chosen for his resemblance to +himself, that was perfectly useless, because the resemblance, though +striking at the first, had been gradually disappearing as the man Oxbye +grew better; and was now, as we have seen, wholly lost after death. + +"I have a great deal--a great deal--to tell you, dear," said the +husband, holding both her hands tenderly. "You will have to be very +patient with me. You must make up your mind to be shocked at first, +though I shall be able to convince you that there was really nothing +else to be done--nothing else at all." + +"Oh! go on, Harry. Tell me all. Hide nothing." + +"I will tell you all," he replied. + +"First, where is that poor man whom the doctor brought here and Fanny +nursed? And where is Fanny?" + +"The poor man," he replied carelessly, "made so rapid a recovery that +he has got on his legs and gone away--I believe, to report himself to +the hospital whence he came. It is a great triumph for the doctor, +whose new treatment is now proved to be successful. He will make a +grand flourish of trumpets about it. I dare say, if all he claims for +it is true, he has taken a great step in the treatment of lung +diseases." + +Iris had no disease of the lungs, and consequently cared very little +for the scientific aspect of the question. + +"Where is my maid, then?" + +"Fanny? She went away--let me see: to-day is Friday--on Wednesday +morning. It was no use keeping her here. The man was well, and she was +anxious to get back to you. So she started on Wednesday morning, +proposing to take the night boat from Dieppe. She must have stopped +somewhere on the way." + +"I suppose she will go to see Mrs. Vimpany. I will send her a line +there." + +"Certainly. That will be sure to find her." + +"Well, Harry, is there anything else to tell me? + +"A great deal," he repeated. "That photograph, Iris, which frightened +you so much, has been very carefully taken by Vimpany for a certain +reason." + +"What reason?" + +"There are occasions," he replied, "when the very best thing that can +happen to a man is the belief that he is dead. Such a juncture of +affairs has happened to myself--and to you--at this moment. It is +convenient--even necessary--for me that the world should believe me +dead. In point of fact, I must be dead henceforth. Not for anything +that I have done, or that I am afraid of--don't think that. No; it is +for the simple reason that I have no longer any money or any resources +whatever. That is why I must be dead. Had you not returned in this +unexpected manner, my dear, you would have heard of my death from the +doctor, and he would have left it to chance to find a convenient +opportunity of letting you know the truth. I am, however, deeply +grieved that I was so careless as to leave that photograph upon the +table." + +"I do not understand," she said. "You pretend to be dead?" + +"Yes. I _must_ have money. I have some left--a very little. I _must_ +have money; and, in order to get it, I must be dead." + +"How will that help?" + +"Why, my dear, I am insured, and my insurances will be paid after my +death; but not before." + +"Oh! must you get money--even by a----" She hesitated. + +"Call it a conspiracy, my dear, if you please. As there is no other way +whatever left, I must get money that way." + +"Oh, this is dreadful! A conspiracy, Harry? a--a--fraud?" + +"If you please. That is the name which lawyers give to it." + +"But oh, Harry!--it is a crime. It is a thing for which men are tried +and found guilty and sentenced." + +"Certainly; if they are found out. Meantime, it is only the poor, +ignorant, clumsy fool who gets found out. In the City these things are +done every day. Quite as a matter of course," he added carelessly. "It +is not usual for men to take their wives into confidence, but in this +case I must take you into confidence: I have no choice, as you will +understand directly." + +"Tell me, Harry, who first thought of this way?" + +"Vimpany, of course. Oh! give him the credit where real cleverness is +concerned. Vimpany suggested the thing. He found me well-nigh as +desperately hard up as he is himself. He suggested it. At first, I +confess, I did not like it. I refused to listen to any more talk about +it. But, you see, when one meets destitution face to face, one will do +anything--everything. Besides, as I will show you, this is not really a +fraud. It is only an anticipation of a few years. However, there was +another reason." + +"Was it to find the money to meet the promissory note?" + +"My dear, you may forget--you may resolve never to throw the thing in +my teeth; but my love for you will never suffer me to forget that I +have lost your little fortune in a doubtful speculation. It is all gone, +never to be recovered again; and this after I had sworn never to touch +a farthing of it. Iris!"--he started to his feet and walked about the +room as one who is agitated by emotion--"Iris! I could face +imprisonment for debt, I could submit to pecuniary ruin, for that +matter; the loss of money would not cause me the least trouble, but I +cannot endure to have ruined you." + +"Oh! Harry, as if I mind. Everything that I have is yours. When I gave +you myself I gave all. Take--use--lose it all. As you think, I should +never _feel_ reproach, far less utter a word of blame. Dearest Harry, +if that is all--" + +"No; it is the knowledge that you will not even feel reproach that is +my constant accuser. At my death you will get all back again. But I am +not old; I may live for many, many years to come. How can I wait for my +own death when I can repair this wickedness by a single stroke?" + +"But by another wickedness--and worse." + +"No--not another crime. Remember that this money is mine. It will come +to my heirs some day, as surely as to-morrow's sun will rise. Sooner or +later it will be mine; I will make it sooner, that is all. The +Insurance Company will lose nothing but the paltry interest for the +remainder of my life. My dear, if it is disgraceful to do this I will +endure disgrace. It is easier to bear that than constant self-reproach +which I feel when I think of you and the losses I have inflicted upon +you." + +Again he folded her in his arms; he knelt before her; he wept over her. +Carried out of herself by this passion, Iris made no more resistance. + +"Is it--is it," she asked timidly, "too late to draw back?" + +"It is too late," he replied, thinking of the dead man below. "It is +too late. All is completed." + +"My poor Harry! What shall we do? How shall we live? How shall we +contrive never to be found out?" + +She would not leave him, then. She accepted the situation. He was +amazed at the readiness with which she fell; but he did not understand +how she was ready to cling to him, for better for worse, through worse +evils than this; nor could he understand how things formerly impossible +to her had been rendered possible by the subtle deterioration of the +moral nature, when a woman of lofty mind at the beginning loves and is +united to a man of lower nature and coarser fibre than herself. Only a +few months before, Iris would have swept aside these sophistrics with +swift and resolute hand. Now she accepted them. + +"You have fallen into the doctor's hands, dear," she said. "Pray Heaven +it brings us not into worse evils! What can I say? it is through love +of your wife--through love of your wife--oh! husband!" she threw +herself into his arms, and forgave everything and accepted everything. +Henceforth she would be--though this she knew not--the willing +instrument of the two conspirators. + + + +CHAPTER LIV + +ANOTHER STEP + +"I HAVE left this terrible thing about once too often already," and +Lord Harry took it from the table. "Let me put it in a place of +safety." + +He unlocked a drawer and opened it. "I will put it here," he said. +"Why"--as if suddenly recollecting something--"here is my will. I shall +be leaving that about on the table next. Iris, my dear, I have left +everything to you. All will be yours." He took out the document. "Keep +it for me, Iris. It is yours. You may as well have it now, and then I +know, in your careful hands, it will be quite safe. Not only is +everything left to you, but you are the sole executrix." + +Iris took the will without a word. She understood, now, what it meant. +If she was the sole executrix she would have to act. If everything was +left to her she would have to receive the money. Thus, at a single +step, she became not only cognisant of the conspiracy, but the chief +agent and instrument to carry it out. + +This done, her husband had only to tell her what had to be done at +once, in consequence of her premature arrival. He had planned, he told +her, not to send for her--not to let her know or suspect anything of +the truth until the money had been paid to the widow by the Insurance +Company. As things had turned out, it would be best for both of them to +leave Passy at once--that very evening--before her arrival was known by +anybody, and to let Vimpany carry out the rest of the business. He was +quite to be trusted--he would do everything that was wanted. "Already," +he said, "the Office will have received from the doctor a notification +of my death. Yesterday evening he wrote to everybody--to my +brother--confound him!--and to the family solicitor. Every moment that +I stay here increases the danger of my being seen and recognised--after +the Office has been informed that I am dead." + +"Where are we to go?" + +"I have thought of that. There is a little quiet town in Belgium where +no English people ever come at all. We will go there, then we will take +another name; we will be buried to the outer world, and will live, for +the rest of our lives, for ourselves alone. Do you agree?" + +"I will do, Harry, whatever you think best." + +"It will be for a time only. When all is ready, you will have to step +to the front--the will in your hand to be proved--to receive what is +due to you as the widow of Lord Harry Norland. You will go back to +Belgium, after awhile, so as to disarm suspicion, to become once more +the wife of William Linville." + +Iris sighed heavily, Then she caught her husband's eyes gathering with +doubt, and she smiled again. + +"In everything, Harry," she said, "I am your servant. When shall we +start?" + +"Immediately. I have only to write a letter to the doctor. Where is +your bag? Is this all? Let me go first to see that no one is about. +Have you got the will? Oh! it is here--yes--in the bag. I will bring +along the bag." + +He ran downstairs, and came up quickly. + +"The nurse has returned," he said. "She is in the spare room." + +"What nurse?" + +"The nurse who came after Fanny left. The man was better, but the +doctor thought it wisest to have a nurse to the end," he explained +hurriedly, and she suspected nothing till afterwards. "Come down +quietly--go out by the back-door--she will not see you." So Iris +obeyed. She went out of her own house like a thief, or like her own +maid Fanny, had she known. She passed through the garden, and out of +the garden into the road. There she waited for her husband. + +Lord Harry sat down and wrote a letter. + +"Dear Doctor," he said, "while you are arranging things outside an +unexpected event has happened inside. Nothing happens but the +unexpected. My wife has come back. It is the most unexpected event of +any. Anything else might have happened. Most fortunately she has not +seen the spare bedroom, and has no idea of its contents. + +"At this point reassure yourself. + +"My wife has gone. + +"She found on the table your first print of the negative. The sight of +this before she saw me threw her into some kind of swoon, from which, +however, she recovered. + +"I have explained things to a certain point. She understands that Lord +Harry Norland is deceased. She does not understand that it was +necessary to have a funeral; there is no necessity to tell her of that. +I think she understands that she must not seem to have been here. +Therefore she goes away immediately. + +"The nurse has not seen her. No one has seen her. + +"She understands, further, that as the widow, heir, and executrix of +Lord Harry she will have to prove his will, and to receive the money +due to him by the Insurance Company. She will do this out of love for +her husband. I think that the persuasive powers of a certain person +have never yet been estimated at their true value. + +"Considering the vital importance of getting her out of the place +before she can learn anything of the spare bedroom, and of getting me +out of the place before any messenger can arrive from the London +office, I think you will agree with me that I am right in leaving +Passy--and Paris--with Lady Harry this very afternoon. + +"You may write to William Linville, Poste-Restante, Louvain, Belgium. I +am sure I can trust you to destroy this letter. + +"Louvain is a quiet, out-of-the-way place, where one can live quite +separated from all old friends, and very cheaply. + +"Considering the small amount of money that I have left, I rely upon +you to exercise the greatest economy. I do not know how long it may be +before just claims are paid up--perhaps in two months--perhaps in +six--but until things are settled there will be tightness. + +"At the same time it will not be difficult, as soon as Lady Harry goes +to London, to obtain some kind of advance from the family solicitor on +the strength of the insurance due to her from her late husband. + +"I am sorry, dear doctor, to leave you alone over the obsequies of this +unfortunate gentleman. You will also have, I hear, a good deal of +correspondence with his family. You may, possibly, have to see them in +England. All this you will do, and do very well. Your bill for medical +attendance you will do well to send in to the widow. + +"One word more. Fanny Mere, the maid, has gone to London; but she has +not seen Lady Harry. As soon as she hears that her mistress has left +London she will be back to Passy. She may come at any moment. I think +if I were you I would meet her at the garden gate and send her on. It +would be inconvenient if she were to arrive before the funeral. + +"My dear doctor, I rely on your sense, your prudence, and your +capability.--Yours very sincerely, + +"Your ENGLISH FRIEND." + + +He read this letter very carefully. Nothing in it he thought the least +dangerous, and yet something suggested danger. However, he left it; he +was obliged to caution and warn the doctor, and he was obliged to get +his wife away as quietly as possible. + +This done, he packed up his things and hurried off to the station, and +Passy saw him no more. + +The next day the mortal remains of Lord Harry Norland were lowered into +the grave. + + + +CHAPTER LV + +THE ADVENTURES OF A FAITHFUL MAID + +IT was about five o'clock on Saturday afternoon. The funeral was over. +The unfortunate young Irish gentleman was now lying in the cemetery of +Auteuil in a grave purchased in perpetuity. His name, age, and rank +were duly inscribed in the registers, and the cause of his death was +vouched for by the English physician who had attended him at the +request of his family. He was accompanied, in going through the +formalities, by the respectable woman who had nursed the sick man +during his last seizure. Everything was perfectly in order. The +physician was the only mourner at the funeral. No one was curious about +the little procession. A funeral, more or less, excites no attention. + +The funeral completed, the doctor gave orders for a single monument to +be put in memory of Lord Harry Norland, thus prematurely cut off. He +then returned to the cottage, paid and dismissed the nurse, taking her +address in case he should find an opportunity, as he hoped, to +recommend her among his numerous and distinguished clientele, and +proceeded to occupy himself in setting everything in order before +giving over the key to the landlord. First of all he removed the +medicine bottles from the cupboard with great care, leaving nothing. +Most of the bottles he threw outside into the dust-hole; one or two he +placed in a fire which he made for the purpose in the kitchen: they +were shortly reduced to two or three lumps of molten glass. These +contained, no doubt, the mysteries and secrets of Science. Then he went +into every room and searched in every possible place for any letters or +papers which might have been left about. Letters left about are always +indiscreet, and the consequences of an indiscretion may be far-reaching +and incalculable. Satisfied at last that the place was perfectly +cleared, he sat down in the salon and continued his business +correspondence with the noble family and the solicitors. Thus engaged, +he heard footsteps outside, footsteps on the gravel, footsteps on the +doorstop. He got up, not without the slightest show of nervousness, and +opened the door. Lord Harry was right. There stood the woman who had +been his first nurse--the woman who overheard and watched--the woman +who suspected. The suspicion and the intention of watching were legible +in her eyes still. She had come back to renew her watch. + +In her hand she carried her box, which she had lugged along from the +place where the omnibus had deposited her. She made as if she were +stepping in; but the big form of the doctor barred the way. + +"Oh!" he said carelessly, "it is you. Who told you to come back?" + +"Is my mistress at home?" + +"No; she is not." He made no movement to let her pass. + +"I will come in, please, and wait for her." + +He still stood in the way. + +"What time will she return?" + +"Have you heard from her?" + +"No." + +"Did she leave orders that you were to follow her?" + +"No; none that I received. I thought--" + +"Servants should never think. They should obey." + +"I know my duty, Dr. Vimpany, without learning it from you. Will you +let me pass?" + +He withdrew, and she entered. + +"Come in, by all means," he said, "if you desire my society for a short +time. But you will not find your mistress here." + +"Not here! Where is she, then?" + +"Had you waited in London for a day or two you would, I dare say, have +been informed. As it is, you have had your journey for nothing." + +"Has she not been here?" + +"She has not been here." + +"Dr. Vimpany," said the woman, driven to desperation, "I don't believe +you! I am certain she has been here. What have you done with her?" + +"Don't you believe me? That is sad, indeed. But one cannot always help +these wanderings. You do not believe me? Melancholy, truly!" + +"You may mock as much as you like. Where is she?" + +"Where, indeed?" + +"She left London to join his lordship. Where is he? + +"I do not know. He who would answer that question would be a wise man +indeed." + +"Can I see him?" + +"Certainly not. He has gone away. On a long journey. By himself." + +"Then I shall wait for him. Here!" she added with decision. "In this +house!" + +"By all means." + +She hesitated. There was an easy look about the doctor which she did +not like. + +"I believe," she said, "that my mistress is in the house. She must be +in the house. What are you going to do with her? I believe you have put +her somewhere." + +"Indeed!" + +"You would do anything! I will go to the police." + +"If you please." + +"Oh! doctor, tell me where she is!" + +"You are a faithful servant: it is good, in these days, to find a woman +so zealous on account of her mistress. Come in, good and faithful. +Search the house all over. Come in--what are you afraid of? Put down +your box, and go and look for your mistress." Fanny obeyed. She ran +into the house, opened the doors of the salon and the dining-room one +after the other: no one was there. She ran up the stairs and looked +into her mistress's room: nothing was there, not even a ribbon or a +hair-pin, to show the recent presence of a woman. She looked into Lord +Harry's room. Nothing was there. If a woman leaves hairpins about, a +man leaves his toothbrush: nothing at all was there. Then she threw +open the armoire in each room: nothing behind the doors. She came +downstairs slowly, wondering what it all meant. + +"May I look in the spare room?" she asked, expecting to be roughly +refused. + +"By all means--by all means," said the doctor, blandly. "You know your +way about. If there is anything left belonging to your mistress or to +you, pray take it." + +She tried one more question. + +"How is my patient? How is Mr. Oxbye?" + +"He is gone." + +"Gone? Where has he gone to? Gone?" + +"He went away yesterday--Friday. He was a grateful creature. I wish we +had more such grateful creatures as well as more such faithful +servants. He said something about finding his way to London in order to +thank you properly. A good soul, indeed!" + +"Gone?" she repeated. "Why, on Thursday morning I saw him--" She +checked herself in time. + +"It was on Wednesday morning that you saw him, and he was then +recovering rapidly." + +"But he was far too weak to travel." + +"You may be quite certain that I should not have allowed him to go away +unless he was strong enough." + +Fanny made no reply. She had seen with her own eyes the man lying still +and white, as if in death; she had seen the new nurse rushing off, +crying that he was dead. Now she was told that he was quite well, and +that he had gone away! But it was no time for thought. + +She was on the point of asking where the new nurse was, but she +remembered in time that it was best for her to know nothing, and to +awaken no suspicions. She opened the door of the spare room and looked +in. Yes; the man was gone--dead or alive--and there were no traces left +of his presence. The place was cleared up; the cupboard stood with open +doors, empty; the bed was made; the curtain pushed back; the sofa was +in its place against the wall; the window stood open. Nothing in the +room at all to show that there had been an occupant only two days +before. She stared blankly. The dead man was gone, then. Had her senses +altogether deceived her? Was he not dead, but only sleeping? Was her +horror only a thing of imagination? Behind her, in the hall, stood the +doctor, smiling, cheerful. + +She remembered that her first business was to find her mistress. She +was not connected with the Dane. She closed the door and returned to +the hall. + +"Well," asked the doctor, "have you made any discoveries? You see that +the house is deserted. You will perhaps learn before long why. Now what +will you do? Will you go back to London?" + +"I must find her ladyship." + +The doctor smiled. + +"Had you come here in a different spirit," he said, "I would have +spared you all this trouble. You come, however, with suspicion written +on your face. You have always been suspecting and watching. It may be +in a spirit of fidelity to your mistress; but such a spirit is not +pleasing to other people, especially when there is not a single person +who bears any resentment towards that mistress. Therefore, I have +allowed you to run over the empty house, and to satisfy your suspicious +soul. Lady Harry is not hidden here. As for Lord Harry--but you will +hear in due time no doubt. And now I don't mind telling you that I have +her ladyship's present address." + +"Oh! What is it?" + +"She appears to have passed through Paris on her way to Switzerland two +days ago, and has sent here her address for the next fortnight. She has +now, I suppose, arrived there. The place is Berne; the Hotel ----. But +how do I know that she wants you?" + +"Of course she wants me." + +"Or of course you want her? Very good. Yours is the responsibility, not +mine. Her address is the Hotel d'Angleterre. Shall I write it down for +you? There it is. 'Hotel d'Angleterre, Berne.' Now you will not forget. +She will remain there for one fortnight only. After that, I cannot say +whither she may go. And, as all her things have been sent away, and as +I am going away, I am not likely to hear." + +"Oh I must go to her. I must find her!" cried the woman earnestly; "if +it is only to make sure that no evil is intended for her." + +"That is your business. For my own part, I know of no one who can wish +her ladyship any evil." + +"Is my lord with her?" + +"I don't know whether that is your business. I have already told you +that he is gone. If you join your mistress in Berne, you will very soon +find out if he is there as well." Something in his tone made Fanny look +up quickly. But his face revealed nothing. "What shall you do then?" +asked the doctor. "You must make up your mind quickly whether you will +go back to England or whether you will go on to Switzerland. You cannot +stay here, because I am putting together the last things, and I shall +give the landlord the key of the house this evening. All the bills are +paid, and I am going to leave the place." + +"I do not understand. There is the patient," she murmured vaguely. +"What does it mean? I cannot understand." + +"My good creature," he replied roughly, "what the devil does it matter +to me whether you understand or whether you do not understand? Her +ladyship is, as I have told you, at Berne. If you please to follow her +there, do so. It is your own affair, not mine. If you prefer to go back +to London, do so. Still--your own affair. Is there anything else to +say?" + +Nothing. Fanny took up her box--this time the doctor did not offer to +carry it for her. + +"Where are you going?" he asked. "What have you decided?" + +"I can get round by the Chemin de Fer de Ceinture to the Lyons station. +I shall take the first cheap train which will take me to Berne." + +"Bon voyage!" said the doctor, cheerfully, and shut the door. + + +It is a long journey from Paris to Berne even for those who can travel +first class and express--that is, if sixteen hours can be called a long +journey. For those who have to jog along by third class, stopping at +all the little country stations, it is a long and tedious journey +indeed. The longest journey ends at last. The train rolled slowly into +the station of Berne, and Fanny descended with her box. Her wanderings +were over for the present. She would find her mistress and be at rest. + +She asked to be directed to the Hotel d'Angleterre. The Swiss guardian +of the peace with the cocked hat stared at her. She repeated the +question. + +"Hotel d'Angleterre?" he echoed. "There is no Hotel d'Angleterre in +Berne." + +"Yes, yes; there is. I am the maid of a lady who is staying at that +hotel." + +"No; there is no Hotel d'Angleterre," he reported. "There is the Hotel +Bernehof." + +"No." She took out the paper and showed it to him--"Lady Harry Norland, +Hotel d'Angleterre, Berne." + +"There is the Hotel de Belle Vue, the Hotel du Faucon, the Hotel +Victoria, the Hotel Schweizerhof. There is the Hotel schrodel, the +Hotel Schneider, the Pension Simkin." + +Fanny as yet had no other suspicion than that the doctor had +accidentally written a wrong name. Her mistress was at Berne: she would +be in one of the hotels. Berne is not a large place. Very good; she +would go round to the hotels and inquire. She did so. There are not, in +fact, more than half a dozen hotels in Berne where an English lady +could possibly stay. Fanny went to every one of these. No one had heard +of any such lady: they showed her the lists of their visitors. She +inquired at the post-office. No lady of that name had asked for +letters. She asked if there were any pensions, and went round them +all--uselessly. + +No other conclusion was possible. The doctor had deceived her wilfully. +To get her out of the way he sent her to Berne. He would have sent her +to Jericho if her purse had been long enough to pay the fare. She was +tricked. + +She counted her money. There was exactly twenty-eight shillings and +tenpence in her purse. + +She went back to the cheapest (and dirtiest) of the pensions she had +visited. She stated her case--she had missed milady her mistress--she +must stay until she should receive orders to go on, and money--would +they take her in until one or the other arrived? Certainly. They would +take her in, at five francs a day, payable every morning in advance. + +She made a little calculation--she had twenty-eight and tenpence; +exactly thirty-five francs--enough for seven days. If she wrote to Mrs. +Vimpany at once she could get an answer in five days. + +She accepted the offer, paid her five shillings, was shown into a room, +and was informed that the dinner was served at six o'clock. + +Very good. Here she could rest, at any rate, and think what was to be +done. And first she wrote two letters--one to Mrs. Vimpany and one to +Mr. Mountjoy. + +In both of these letters she told exactly what she had found: neither +Lord Harry nor his wife at the cottage, the place vacated, and the +doctor on the point of going away. In both letters she told how she had +been sent all the way into Switzerland on a fool's errand, and now +found herself planted there without the means of getting home. In the +letter to Mrs. Vimpany she added the remarkable detail that the man +whom she had seen on the Thursday morning apparently dead, whose actual +poisoning she thought she had witnessed, was reported on the Saturday +to have walked out of the cottage, carrying his things, if he had any, +and proposing to make his way to London in order to find out his old +nurse. "Make what you can out of that," she said. "For my own part, I +understand nothing." + +In the letter which she wrote to Mr. Mountjoy she added a petition that +he would send her money to bring her home. This, she said, her mistress +she knew would willingly defray. + +She posted these letters on Tuesday, and waited for the answers. + +Mrs. Vimpany wrote back by return post. + + +"My dear Fanny," she said, "I have read your letter with the greatest +interest. I am not only afraid that some villainy is afloat, but I am +perfectly sure of it. One can only hope and pray that her ladyship may +be kept out of its influence. You will be pleased to hear that Mr. +Mountjoy is better. As soon as he was sufficiently recovered to stand +the shock of violent emotion, I put Lady Harry's letter into his hands. +It was well that I had kept it from him, for he fell into such a +violence of grief and indignation that I thought he would have had a +serious relapse. 'Can any woman,' he cried, 'be justified in going back +to an utterly unworthy husband until he has proved a complete change? +What if she had received a thousand letters of penitence? Penitence +should be shown by acts, not words: she should have waited.' He wrote +her a letter, which he showed me. 'Is there,' he asked, 'anything in +the letter which could justly offend her?' I could find nothing. He +told her, but I fear too late, that she risks degradation--perhaps +worse, if there is anything worse--if she persists in returning to her +unworthy husband. If she refuses to be guided by his advice, on the +last occasion on which he would presume to offer any device, he begged +that she would not answer. Let her silence say--No. That was the +substance of his letter. Up to the present moment no answer has been +received from Lady Harry. Nor has he received so much as an +acknowledgment of the letter. What can be understood by this silence? +Clearly, refusal. + +"You must return by way of Paris, though it is longer than by Basle and +Laon. Mr. Mountjoy, I know, will send you the money you want. He has +told me as much. 'I have done with Lady Harry,' he said. 'Her movements +no longer concern me, though I can never want interest in what she +does. But since the girl is right to stick to her mistress, I will send +her the money--not as a loan to be paid back by Iris, but as a gift +from myself.' + +"Therefore, my dear Fanny, stop in Paris for one night at least, and +learn what has been done if you can. Find out the nurse, and ask her +what really happened. With the knowledge that you already possess, it +will be hard, indeed, if we cannot arrive at the truth. There must be +people who supplied things to the cottage--the restaurant, the +_pharmacien,_ the laundress. See them all--you know them already, and +we will put the facts together. As for finding her ladyship, that will +depend entirely upon herself. I shall expect you back in about a week. +If anything happens here I shall be able to tell you when you arrive. + +"Yours affectionately, + +L. Vimpany." + + +This letter exactly coincided with Fanny's own views. The doctor was +now gone. She was pretty certain that he was not going to remain alone +in the cottage; and the suburb of Passy, though charming in many ways, +is not exactly the place for a man of Dr. Vimpany's temperament. She +would stay a day, or even two days or more, if necessary, at Passy. She +would make those inquiries. + +The second letter, which reached her the same day, was from Mr. +Mountjoy. He told her what he had told Mrs. Vimpany: he would give her +the money, because he recognised the spirit of fidelity which caused +Fanny to go first to Paris and then to Berne. + +But he could not pretend to any right to interference in the affairs of +Lord and Lady Harry Norland. He enclosed a _mandat postal_ for a +hundred and twenty-five francs, which he hoped would be sufficient for +her immediate wants. + +She started on her return-journey on the same day--namely, Saturday. On +Sunday evening she was in a pension at Passy, ready to make those +inquiries. The first person whom she sought out was the _rentier_--the +landlord of the cottage. He was a retired tradesman--one who had made +his modest fortune in a _charcuterie_ and had invested it in house +property. Fanny told him that she had been lady's-maid to Lady Harry +Norland, in the recent occupancy of the cottage, and that she was +anxious to know her present address. + +"Merci, mon Dieu! que sais-je? What do I know about it?" he replied. +"The wife of the English milord is so much attached to her husband that +she leaves him in his long illness--" + +"His long illness?" + +"Certainly--Mademoiselle is not, perhaps, acquainted with the +circumstances--his long illness; and does not come even to see his dead +body after he is dead. There is a wife for you--a wife of the English +fashion!" + +Fanny gasped. + +"After he is dead! Is Lord Harry dead? When did he die?" + +"But, assuredly, Mademoiselle has not heard? The English milord died on +Thursday morning, a week and more ago, of consumption, and was buried +in the cemetery of Auteuil last Saturday. Mademoiselle appears +astonished." + +"En effet, Monsieur, I am astonished." + +"Already the tombstone is erected to the memory of the unhappy young +man, who is said to belong to a most distinguished family of Ireland. +Mademoiselle can see it with her own eyes in the cemetery." + +"One word more, Monsieur. If Monsieur would have the kindness to tell +her who was the nurse of milord in his last seizure?" + +"But certainly. All the world knows the widow La Chaise. It was the +widow La Chaise who was called in by the doctor. Ah! there is a +man--what a man! What a miracle of science! What devotion to his +friend! What admirable sentiments! Truly, the English are great in +sentiments when their insular coldness allows them to speak. This widow +can be found--easily found." + +He gave Fanny, in fact, the nurse's address. Armed with this, and +having got out of the landlord the cardinal fact of Lord Harry's +alleged death, the lady's-maid went in search of this respectable +widow. + +She found her, in her own apartments, a respectable woman indeed, +perfectly ready to tell everything that she knew, and evidently quite +unsuspicious of anything wrong. She was invited to take charge of a +sick man on the morning of Thursday: she was told that he was a young +Irish lord, dangerously ill of a pulmonary disorder; the doctor, in +fact, informed her that his life hung by a thread, and might drop at +any moment, though on the other hand he had known such cases linger on +for many months. She arrived as she had been ordered, at midday: she +was taken into the sick-room by the doctor, who showed her the patient +placidly sleeping on a sofa: the bed had been slept in, and was not yet +made. After explaining the medicines which she was to administer, and +the times when they were to be given, and telling her something about +his diet, the doctor left her alone with the patient. + +"He was still sleeping profoundly," said the nurse. + +"You are sure that he was sleeping, and not dead?" asked Fanny, +sharply. + +"Mademoiselle, I have been a nurse for many years. I know my duties. +The moment the doctor left me I verified his statements. I proved that +the patient was sleeping by feeling his pulse and observing his +breath." + +Fanny made no reply. She could hardly remind this respectable person +that after the doctor left her she employed herself first in examining +the cupboards, drawers, _armoire,_ and other things; that she then +found a book with pictures, in which she read for a quarter of an hour +or so; that she then grew sleepy and dropped the book-- + +"I then," continued the widow, "made arrangements against his +waking--that is to say, I drew back the curtains and turned over the +sheet to air the bed"--O Madame! Madame! Surely this was +needless!--"shook up the pillows, and occupied myself in the cares of a +conscientious nurse until the time came to administer the first dose of +medicine. Then I proceeded to awaken my patient. Figure to yourself! He +whom I had left tranquilly breathing, with the regularity of a +convalescent rather than a dying man, was dead! He was dead!" + +"You are sure he was dead?" + +"As if I had never seen a dead body before! I called the doctor, but it +was for duty only, for I knew that he was dead." + +"And then?" + +"Then the doctor--who must also have known that he was dead--felt his +pulse and his heart, and looked at his eyes, and declared that he was +dead." + +"And then?" + +"What then? If a man is dead he is dead. You cannot restore him to +life. Yet one thing the doctor did. He brought a camera and took a +photograph of the dead man for the sake of his friends." + +"Oh! he took a photograph of--of Lord Harry Norland. What did he do +that for?" + +"I tell you: for the sake of his friends." + +Fanny was more bewildered than ever. Why on earth should the doctor +want a photograph of the Dane Oxbye to show the friends of Lord Harry? +Could he have made a blunder as stupid as it was uncalled for? No one +could possibly mistake the dead face of that poor Dane for the dead +face of Lord Harry. + +She had got all the information she wanted--all, in fact, that was of +any use to her. One thing remained. She would see the grave. + +The cemetery of Auteuil is not so large as that of Pere-la-Chaise, nor +does it contain so many celebrated persons as the latter--perhaps the +greatest cemetery, as regards its illustrious dead, in the whole world. +It is the cemetery of the better class. The tombs are not those of +Immortals but of Respectables. + +Among them Fanny easily found, following the directions given to her, +the tomb she was searching after. + +On it was written in English, "Sacred to the Memory of Lord Harry +Norland, second son of the Marquis of Malven." Then followed the date +and the age, and nothing more. + +Fanny sat down on a bench and contemplated this mendacious stone. + +"The Dane Oxbye," she said, "was growing better fast when I went away. +That was the reason why I was sent away. The very next day the doctor, +thinking me far away, poisoned him. I saw him do it. The nurse was told +that he was asleep, and being left alone presently discovered that he +was dead. She has been told that the sick man is a young Irish +gentleman. He is buried under the name of Lord Harry. That is the +reason I found the doctor alone. And my lady? Where is she?" + + + +CHAPTER LVI + +FANNY'S NARRATIVE + +FANNY returned to London. Partly, the slenderness of her resources gave +her no choice; partly, she had learned all there was to learn, and +would do no good by staying longer at Passy. + +She arrived with thirty shillings left out of Mr. Mountjoy's timely +gift. She sought a cheap lodging, and found a room, among people who +seemed respectable, which she could have for four-and-sixpence a week, +with board at a shilling a day. This settled, she hastened to Mr. +Mountjoy's hotel brimful of her news for Mrs. Vimpany. + +Everyone knows the disappointment when the one person in the world whom +you want at the moment to see and to talk with proves to be out. Then +the news has to be suppressed; the conclusions, the suspicions, the +guesses have to be postponed; the active brain falls back upon itself. + +This disappointment--almost as great as that at Berne--was experienced +by Fanny Mere at the hotel. + +Mr. Mountjoy was no longer there. + +The landlady of the hotel, who knew Fanny, came out herself and told +her what had happened. + +"He was better," she said, "but still weak. They sent him down to +Scotland in Mrs. Vimpany's care. He was to travel by quick or slow +stages, just as he felt able. And I've got the address for you. Here it +is. Oh! and Mrs. Vimpany left a message. Will you, she says, when you +write, send the letter to her and not to him? She says, you know why." + +Fanny returned to her lodging profoundly discouraged. She was filled +with this terrible secret that she had discovered. The only man who +could advise at this juncture was Mr. Mountjoy, and he was gone. And +she knew not what had become of her mistress. What could she do? The +responsibility was more than she could bear. + +The conversation with the French nurse firmly established one thing in +her mind. The man who was buried in the cemetery of Auteuil with the +name of Lord Harry Norland on a headstone, the man who had lingered so +long with pulmonary disease, was the man whose death she had witnessed. +It was Oxbye the Dane. Of that there could be no doubt. Equally there +was no doubt in her own mind that he had been poisoned by the +doctor--by Mrs. Vimpany's husband--in the presence and, to all +appearance, with the consent and full knowledge of Lord Harry himself. +Then her mistress was in the power of these two men--villains who had +now added murder to their other crimes. As for herself, she was alone, +almost friendless; in a week or two she would be penniless. If she told +her tale, what mischief might she not do? If she was silent, what +mischief might not follow? + +She sat down to write to the only friend she had. But her trouble froze +her brain. She had not been able to put the case plainly. Words failed +her. + +She was not at any time fluent with her pen. She now found herself +really unable to convey any intelligible account of what had happened. +To state clearly all that she knew so that the conclusion should be +obvious and patent to the reader would have been at all times +difficult, and was now impossible. She could only confine herself to a +simple vague statement. "I can only say that from all I have seen and +heard I have reasons for believing that Lord Harry is not dead at all." +She felt that this was a feeble way of summing up, but she was not at +the moment equal to more. "When I write again, after I have heard from +you, I will tell you more. To-day I cannot. I am too much weighed down. +I am afraid of saying too much. Besides, I have no money, and must look +for work. I am not anxious, however, about my own future, because my +lady will not forsake me. I am sure of that. It is my anxiety about her +and the dreadful secrets I have learned which give me no rest." + +Several days passed before the answer came. And then it was an answer +which gave her little help. "I have no good news for you," she said. +"Mr. Mountjoy continues weak. Whatever your secret, I cannot ask you to +communicate it to him in his present condition. He has been grieved and +angry beyond all belief by Lady Harry's decision to rejoin her husband. +It is hard to understand that a man should be so true a friend and so +constant a lover. Yet he has brought himself to declare that he has +broken off all friendly relations with her. He could no longer endure +London. It was associated with thoughts and memories of her. In spite +of his weak condition, he insisted on coming down here to his Scotch +villa. Ill as he was, he would brook no delay. We came down by very +easy stages, stopping at Peterborough, York, Durham, Newcastle, and +Berwick--at some places for one night, and others for more. In spite of +all my precautions, when we arrived at the villa he was dangerously +exhausted. I sent for the local doctor, who seems to know something. At +all events, he is wise enough to understand that this is not a case for +drugs. Complete rest and absence from all agitating thoughts must be +aimed at. Above all, he is not to see the newspapers. That is +fortunate, because, I suppose, Lord Harry's death has been announced in +them, and the thought that his former mistress is a widow might excite +him very dangerously. You will now understand why I left that message +at the hotel for you, and why I have not shown him your letter. I told +him, it is true, that you had returned without finding your mistress. +'Speak no more to me of Lady Harry,' he replied irritably. So I have +said no more. As for money, I have a few pounds by me, which are at +your service. You can repay me at some future time. I have thought of +one thing--that new Continental paper started by Lord Harry. Wherever +she may be, Lady Harry is almost sure to see that. Put an advertisement +in it addressed to her, stating that you have not heard of her address, +but that you yourself will receive any letter sent to some post-office +which you can find. I think that such an advertisement will draw a +reply from her, unless she desires to remain in seclusion." + +Fanny thought the suggestion worth adopting. After careful +consideration, she drew up an advertisement:-- + +"Fanny H. to L--H--. I have not been able to ascertain your address. +Please write to me, at the Post Office, Hunter Street, London, W.C." + +She paid for the insertion of this advertisement three times on +alternate Saturdays. They told her that this would be a more likely way +than to take three successive Saturdays. Then, encouraged by the +feeling that something, however little, had been done, she resolved to +sit down to write out a narrative in which she would set down in order +everything that had happened--exactly as it had happened. Her intense +hatred and suspicion of Dr. Vimpany aided her, strange to say, to keep +to the strictest fidelity as regards the facts. For it was not her +desire to make up charges and accusations. She wanted to find out the +exact truth, and so to set it down that anybody who read her statement +would arrive at the same conclusion as she herself had done. In the +case of an eye-witness there are thousands of things which cannot be +produced in evidence which yet are most important in directing and +confirming suspicions. The attitude, the voice, the look of a speaker, +the things which he conceals as well as the things which he +reveals--all these are evidence. But these Fanny was unable to set +down. Therefore it behoved her to be strictly careful. + +First, she stated how she became aware that there was some secret +scheme under consideration between Lord Harry and the doctor. Next, she +set down the fact that they began to talk French to each other, +thinking that she could not understand them; that they spoke of +deceiving Lady Harry by some statement which had already deceived the +authorities; that the doctor undertook to get the lady out of the +house; that they engaged herself as nurse to a sick man; that she +suspected from the beginning that their design was to profit in some +way by the death of this sick than, who bore a slight resemblance to +Lord Harry himself. And so on, following the story as closely as she +could remember, to the death of the Dane and her own subsequent +conversation with the nurse. She was careful to put in the dates, day +after day. When she had done all this--it took a good deal of time--she +bought a manuscript book and copied it all out. This enabled her to +remember two or three facts which had escaped her at the beginning. +Then she made another copy this time without names of people or place. +The second copy she forwarded as a registered letter to Mrs. Vimpany, +with a letter of which this was the conclusion: "Considering, +therefore, that on Wednesday morning I left Lord Harry in perfect +health; considering that on the Thursday morning I saw the man who had +been ill so long actually die--how, I have told you in the packet +enclosed; considering that the nurse was called in purposely to attend +a patient who was stated to have long been ill--there can be no doubt +whatever that the body in the cemetery is that of the unfortunate Dane, +Oxbye; and that, somewhere or other, Lord Harry is alive and well. + +"What have they done it for? First of all, I suppose, to get money. If +it were not for the purpose of getting money the doctor would have had +nothing to do with the conspiracy, which was his own invention. That is +very certain. Your idea was they would try to get money out of the +Insurance Offices. I suppose that is their design. But Lord Harry may +have many other secret reasons of his own for wishing to be thought +dead. They say his life has been full of wicked things, and he may well +wish to be considered dead and gone. Lots of wicked men would like +above all things, I should think, to be considered dead and buried. But +the money matter is at the bottom of all, I am convinced. What are we +to do?" + +What could they do? These two women had got hold of a terrible secret. +Neither of them could move. It was too big a thing. One cannot expect a +woman to bring her own husband--however wicked a husband he may be--to +the awful shame and horror of the gallows if murder should be +proved--or to a lifelong imprisonment if the conspiracy alone should be +brought home to him. Therefore Mrs. Vimpany could do nothing. As for +Fanny, the mere thought of the pain she would inflict upon her +mistress, were Lord Harry, through her interference, to be brought to +justice and an infamous sentence, kept her quiet. + +Meantime, the announcement of Lord Harry's death had been made. Those +who knew the family history spoke cheerfully of the event. "Best timing +he had ever done. Very good thing for his people. One more bad lot out +of the way. Dead, Sir, and a very good thing, too. Married, I believe. +One of the men who have done everything. Pity they can't write a life +of him." These were the comments made upon the decease of this young +gentleman. Such is fame. Next day he was clean forgotten; just as if he +had never existed. Such is life. + + + +CHAPTER LVII + +AT LOUVAIN + +NOT many English tourists go out of their way to visit Louvain, even +though it has a Hotel de Ville surpassing even that of Brussels itself, +and though one can get there in an hour from that city of youth and +pleasure. And there are no English residents at all in the place--at +least, none in evidence, though perhaps there may be some who have gone +there for the same reasons which led Mr. William Linville and his wife +to choose this spot--in order to be private and secluded. There are +many more people than we know of who desire, above all things, +seclusion and retirement, and dread nothing so much as a chance meeting +with an old friend. + +Mr. William Linville took a small house, furnished, like the cottage at +Passy, and, also like that little villa, standing in its own garden. +Here, with a cook and a maid, Iris set up her modest _menage._ To ask +whether she was happy would be absurd. At no time since her marriage +had she been happy; to live under the condition of perpetual +concealment is not in itself likely to make a woman any the happier. +Fortunately she had no time to experience the full bitterness of the +plan proposed by her husband. + +Consider. Had their scheme actually been carried out quite +successfully, this pair, still young, would have found themselves +condemned to transportation for life. That was the first thing. Next, +they could never make any friends among their own countrymen or +countrywomen for fear of discovery. Iris could never again speak to an +English lady. If they had children the risk would appear ten times more +terrible, the consequences ten times more awful. The children +themselves would have to grow up without family and without friends. +The husband, cut off from intercourse with other men, would be thrown +back upon himself. Husband and wife, with this horrible load laid upon +them, would inevitably grow to loathe and hate the sight of each other. +The man would almost certainly take to drink: the woman--but we must +not follow this line any further. The situation lasted only so long as +to give the wife a glimpse of what it might become in the future. + +They took their house, and sat down in it. They were very silent. Lord +Harry, his great _coup_ successfully carried so far, sat taciturn and +glum. He stayed indoors all day, only venturing out after dark. For a +man whose whole idea of life was motion, society, and action, this +promised ill. + +The monotony was first broken by the arrival of Hugh's letter, which +was sent in with other documents from Passy. Iris read it; she read it +again, trying to understand exactly what it meant. Then she tore it up. +"If he only knew," she said, "he would not have taken the trouble even +to write this letter. There is no answer, Hugh. There can be none--now. +Act by your advice? Henceforth, I must act by order. I am a +conspirator." + +Two days afterwards came a letter from the doctor. He did not think it +necessary to say anything about Fanny's appearance or her journey to +Borne. "Everything," he wrote, "has so far gone well. The world knows, +through the papers, that Lord Harry is dead. There will be now only the +business of claiming the money. For this purpose, as his widow is the +sole heiress and executrix, it will be necessary for her to place the +will and the policies of insurance in the hands of her husband's +lawyers, so that the will may be proved and the claims duly made. Forms +will have to be signed. The medical certificate of death and the forms +attesting the burial are already in the lawyers' hands. The sooner the +widow goes to London the better. She should write to announce her +arrival, and she should write from Paris as if she had been staying +there after her husband's death. + +"I have only to remind you, my dear Linville, that you are indebted to +me in a good round sum. Of course, I shall be very pleased to receive a +cheque for this sum in full as soon as you have touched the amount due +to you. I shall be in Paris, at the Hotel Continental, where you may +address me. Naturally, there is no desire for concealment, and if the +Insurance Companies desire any information from me I am always ready +and willing to afford it." + +Lord Harry gave this letter to his wife. + +She read it, and laid it open in her lap. + +"Must it be, Harry? Oh! must it be?" + +"There is no other way possible, dear. But really, it is nothing. You +were not at Passy when your husband died. You had been in London--you +were in Brussels--anywhere; when you arrived it was all over; you have +seen his headstone. Dr. Vimpany had him in his care; you knew he was +ill, but you thought it was a trifling matter which time would cure; +you go to the lawyers and present the will. They have the policies, and +will do everything else; you will not even have to sign anything. The +only thing that you must do is to get a complete rig-out of widow's +weeds. Mind--there will not be the slightest doubt or question raised. +Considering everything, you will be more than justified in seeing no +one and going nowhere." + +Hugh's letter breaking in upon her fool's paradise had awakened the +poor woman to her better self; she had gone so far with the fraud as to +acquiesce in it; but she recoiled with horror and shame when this +active part was forced upon her. + +"Oh, Harry!"--she burst into tears. "I cannot--I cannot. You ask me to +be a liar and a thief--oh! heavens!--a vile thief! + +"It is too late, Iris! We are all vile thieves. It is too late to begin +crying now." + +"Harry"--she threw herself upon her knees--"spare me! Let some other +woman go, and call herself your widow. Then I will go away and hide +myself." + +"Don't talk nonsense, Iris," he replied roughly. "I tell you it is far +too late. You should have thought of this before. It is now all +arranged." + +"I cannot go," she said. + +"You must go; otherwise, all our trouble may prove useless." + +"Then I will not go!" she declared, springing to her feet. "I will not +degrade myself any further. I will not go!" + +Harry rose too. He faced her for a moment. His eyes dropped. Even he +remembered, at that moment, how great must be the fall of a woman who +would consent to play such a part. + +"You shall not go," he said, "unless you like. You can leave me to the +consequences of my own acts--to my own degradation. Go back to England. +In one thing only spare me. Do not tell what you know. As for me, I +will forge a letter from you--" + +"Forge a letter!" + +"It is the only way left open, giving the lawyers authority to act, and +inclosing the will. What will happen next? By whose hands the money is +to reach me I know not yet. But you can leave me, Iris. Better that you +should leave me--I shall only drag you lower." + +"Why must you forge the letter? Why not come with me somewhere--the +world is large!--to some place where you are not known, and there let +us begin a new life? We have not much money, but I can sell my watches +and chains and rings, and we shall have enough. O Harry! for once be +guided--listen to me! We shall find some humble manner of living, and +we may be happy yet. There is no harm done if you have only pretended +to be dead; nobody has been injured or defrauded--" + +"Iris, you talk wildly! Do you imagine, for one moment, that the doctor +will release me from my bargain?" + +"What bargain?" + +"Why--of course he was to be paid for the part he has taken in the +business. Without him it could never have been done at all." + +"Yes--yes--it was in the letter that you gave me," she said, conscious +that such agreements belonged to works of fiction and to police courts. + +"Certainly I have to pay him a good large slice out of the money." + +"It is fifteen thousand pounds, is it not? How much is to be paid to +the--to the doctor?" + +"We agreed that he was to have the half," said Lord Harry, laughing +lightly. "But as I thought that seven thousand five hundred pounds was +a sum of money which would probably turn his head and bring him to +starvation in a year or two, I told him that the whole amount was four +thousand pounds. Therefore he is to have two thousand pounds for his +share. And quite enough too." + +"Treachery on treachery!" said his wife. "Fraud on fraud! Would to +GOD," she added with a sigh, "that you had never met this man!" + +"I dare say it would have been better for me, on the whole," he +replied. "But then, my dear, a man like myself is always meeting people +whom it would have been better not to have met. Like will to like, I +suppose. Given the active villain and the passive consenter, and they +are sure to meet. Not that I throw stones at the worthy doctor. Not at +all." + +"We cannot, Harry," said his wife. + +"We cannot, my dear. _Bien entendu!_ Well, Iris, there is no more to be +said. You know the situation completely. You can back out of it if you +please, and leave me. Then I shall have to begin all over again a new +conspiracy far more dangerous than the last. Well, I shall not drag you +down with me. That is my resolution. If it comes to public +degradation--but it shall not. Iris, I promise you one thing." For once +he looked as if he meant it. "Death before dishonour. Death without +your name being mixed up at all, save with pity for being the wife of +such a man." + +Again he conquered her. + +"Harry," she said, "I will go." + + + +CHAPTER LVIII + +OF COURSE THEY WILL PAY + +THREE days afterwards a hansom cab drove to the offices of the very +respectable firm of solicitors who managed the affairs of the Norland +family. They had one or two other families as well, and in spite of +agricultural depression, they made a very good thing indeed out of a +very comfortable business. The cab contained a lady in deep widow's +weeds. + +Lady Harry Norland expected to be received with coldness and suspicion. +Her husband, she knew, had not led the life expected in these days of a +younger son. Nor had his record been such as to endear him to his elder +brother. Then, as may be imagined, there were other tremors, caused by +a guilty knowledge of certain facts which might by some accident "come +out." Everybody has tremors for whom something may come out. Also, Iris +had had no experience of solicitors, and was afraid of them. + +Instead of being received, however, by a gentleman as solemn as the +Court of Chancery and as terrible as the Court of Assize, she found an +elderly gentleman, of quiet, paternal manners, who held both her hands, +and looked as if he was weeping over her bereavement. By long practice +this worthy person could always, at a moment's notice, assume the +appearance of one who was weeping with his client. + +"My dear lady!" he murmured. "My dear lady! This is a terrible time for +you." + +She started. She feared that something had come out. + +"In the moment of bereavement, too, to think of business." + +"I have brought you," she replied curtly, "my husband's--my late +husband's--will." + +"Thank you. With your permission--though it may detain your ladyship--I +will read it. Humph! it is short and to the point. This will certainly +give us little trouble. I fear, however, that, besides the insurances, +your ladyship will not receive much." + +"Nothing. My husband was always a poor man, as you know. At the time of +his death he left a small sum of money only. I am, as a matter of fact, +greatly inconvenienced." + +"Your ladyship shall be inconvenienced no longer. You must draw upon +us. As regards Lord Harry's death, we are informed by Dr. Vimpany, who +seems to have been his friend as well as his medical adviser--" + +"Dr. Vimpany had been living with him for some time." + +--"that he had a somewhat protracted illness?" + +"I was away from my husband. I was staying here in London--on +business--for some time before his death. I was not even aware that he +was in any danger. When I hurried back to Passy I was too late. My +husband was--was already buried." + +"It was most unfortunate. And the fact that his lordship was not on +speaking terms with the members of his own family--pray understand that +I am not expressing any opinion on the case--but this fact seems to +render his end more unhappy." + +"He had Dr. Vimpany," said Iris, in a tone which suggested to the +lawyer jealousy or dislike of the doctor. + +"Well," he said, "it remains to prove the will and to make our claims +against the Insurance Office. I have the policy here. His lordship was +insured in the Royal Unicorn Life Insurance Company for the sum +of 15,000 pounds. We must not expect to have this large claim satisfied +quite immediately. Perhaps the office will take three months to settle. +But, as I said before, your ladyship can draw upon us." + +"You are certain that the Company will pay?" + +"Assuredly. Why not? They must pay." + +"Oh! I thought that perhaps so large a sum--" + +"My dear Madam"--the man who administered so much real and personal +property smiled--"fifteen thousand pounds is not what we call a very +large sum. Why, if an Insurance Company refused to pay a lawful claim +it would cut its own throat--absolutely. Its very existence depends +upon its meeting all just and lawful claims. The death being proved it +remains for the Company to pay the insurance into the hands of the +person entitled to receive it. That is, in this case, to me, acting for +you." + +"Yes--I see--but I thought that, perhaps, my husband having died abroad +there might be difficulty--" + +"There might, if he had died in Central Africa. But he died in a suburb +of Paris, under French law, which, in such matters, is even more +careful and exacting than our own. We have the official papers, and the +doctor's certificate. We have, besides, a photograph of the unfortunate +gentleman lying on his death-bed--this was well thought of: it is an +admirable likeness--the sun cannot lie--we have also a photograph of +the newly erected tombstone. Doubt? Dear me, Madam, they could no more +raise a doubt as to your husband's death than if he were buried in the +family vault. If anything should remove any ground for doubt, it is the +fact that the only person who benefits by his death is yourself. If, on +the other hand, he had been in the hands of persons who had reason to +wish for his death, there might have been suspicions of foul play, +which would have been matter for the police--but not for an insurance +company." + +"Oh! I am glad to learn, at least, that there will be no trouble. I +have no knowledge of business, and I thought that--" + +"No--no--your ladyship need have no such ideas. In fact, I have already +anticipated your arrival, and have sent to the manager of the company. +He certainly went so far as to express a doubt as to the cause of +death. Consumption in any form was not supposed to be in your husband's +family. But Lord Harry--ahem!--tried his constitution--tried his +constitition, as I put it." + +He had put it a little differently. What he said was to the following +effect--"Lord Harry Norland, sir, was a devil. There was nothing he did +not do. I only wonder that he has lived so long. Had I been told that +he died of everything all together, I should not have been surprised. +Ordinary rapid consumption was too simple for such a man." + +Iris gave the lawyer her London address, obeyed him by drawing a +hundred pounds, half of which she sent to Mr. William Linville, at +Louvain, and went home to wait. She must now stay in London until the +claim was discharged. + +She waited six weeks. At the end of that time she learned from her +solicitors that the company had settled, and that they, the lawyers, +had paid to her bankers the sum of 15,000 pounds being the whole of the +insurance. + +Acting, then, on her husband's instructions, she sought another bank +and opened an account for one William Linville, gentleman, residing +abroad. She gave herself as a reference, left the usual signature of +William Linville, and paid to his account a cheque for 8,000 pounds. +She saw the manager of her own bank, explained that this large cheque +was for an investment, and asked him to let her have 2,000 pounds in +bank notes. This sum, she added, was for a special purpose. The manager +imagined that she was about to perform some act of charity, perhaps an +expiatory work on behalf of her late husband. + +She then wrote to Dr. Vimpany, who was in Paris, making an appointment +with him. Her work of fraud and falsehood was complete. + +"There has been no trouble at all," she wrote to her husband; "and +there will not be any. The insurance company has already settled the +claim. I have paid 8,000 pounds to the account of William Linville. My +own banker--who knows my father--believes that the money is an +investment. My dear Harry, I believe that, unless the doctor begins to +worry us--which he will do as soon as his money is all gone--a clear +course lies before us. Let us, as I have already begged you to do, go +straight away to some part of America, where you are certain not to be +known. You can dye your hair and grow a beard to make sure. Let us go +away from every place and person that may remind us of time past. +Perhaps, in time, we may recover something of the old peace and--can it +ever be?--the old self-respect." + +There was going to be trouble, however, and that of a kind little +expected, impossible to be guarded against. And it would be trouble +caused by her own act and deed. + + + +CHAPTER LIX + +THE CONSEQUENCES OF AN ADVERTISEMENT + +THE trouble was made by Iris herself. + +In this way-- + +She saw Fanny's advertisement. Her first impulse was to take her back +into her service. But she remembered the necessity for concealment. She +must not place herself--she realised already the fact that she had done +a thing which would draw upon her the vengeance of the law--and her +husband in the power of this woman, whose fidelity might not stand the +shock of some fit of jealousy, rage, or revenge for fancied slight. She +must henceforth be cut off altogether from all her old friends. + +She therefore answered the letter by one which contained no address, +and which she posted with her own hand at the General Post Office. She +considered her words carefully. She must not say too much or too +little. + +"I enclose," she said, "a bank note for ten pounds to assist you. I am +about to travel abroad, but must, under existing circumstances, +dispense with the services of a maid. In the course of my travels I +expect to be in Brussels. If, therefore, you have anything to tell me +or to ask of me, write to me at the Poste Restante of that city, and in +the course of six mouths or so I am tolerably sure to send for the +letter. In fact, I shall expect to find a letter from you. Do not think +that I have forgotten you or your faithful services, though for a +moment I am not able to call you to my side. Be patient." + +There was no address given in the letter. This alone was mysterious. If +Lady Harry was in London and the letter was posted at the General Post +Office--why should she not give her address? If she was abroad, why +should she hide her address? In any case, why should she do without a +maid--she who had never been without a maid--to whom a maid was as +necessary as one of her hands? Oh! she could never get along at all +without a maid. As for Iris's business in London and her part in the +conspiracy, of course Fanny neither knew nor suspected. + +She had recourse again to her only friend--Mrs. Vimpany--to whom she +sent Lady Harry's letter, and imploring her to lay the whole before Mr. +Mountjoy. + +"He is getting so much stronger," Mrs. Vimpany wrote back, "that I +shall be able to tell him every thing before long. Do not be in a +hurry. Let us do nothing that may bring trouble upon her. But I am sure +that something is going on--something wicked. I have read your account +of what has happened over and over again. I am as convinced as you +could possibly be that my husband and Lord Harry are trading on the +supposed death of the letter. We can do nothing. Let us wait." + +Three days afterwards she wrote again. + +"The opportunity for which I have been waiting has come at last. Mr. +Mountjoy is, I believe, fully recovered. This morning, seeing him so +well and strong, I asked him if I might venture to place in his hands a +paper containing a narrative. + +"'Is it concerning Iris?' he asked. + +"'It has to do with Lady Harry--indirectly.' + +"For a while he made no reply. Then he asked me if it had also to do +with her husband. + +"'With her husband and with mine,' I told him. + +"Again he was silent. + +"After a bit he looked up and said, 'I had promised myself never again +to interfere in Lady Harry Norland's affairs. You wish me to read this +document, Mrs. Vimpany?" + +"'Certainly; I am most anxious that you should read it and should +advise upon it.' + +"'Who wrote it?' + +"'Fanny Mere, Lady Harry's maid.' + +"'If it is only to tell me that her husband is a villain,' he said, 'I +will not read it.' + +"'If you were enabled by reading it to keep Lady Harry from a dreadful +misfortune?' I suggested. + +"'Give me the document,' he said. + +"Before I gave it to him--it was in my pocket--I showed him a newspaper +containing a certain announcement. + +"'Lord Harry dead?' he cried. 'Impossible! Then Iris is free.' + +"'Perhaps you will first read the document.' I drew it out of my +pocket, gave it to him, and retired. He should be alone while he read +it. + +"Half an hour afterwards I returned. I found him in a state of the most +violent agitation, without, however, any of the weakness which he +betrayed on previous occasions. + +"'Mrs. Vimpany,' he cried, 'this is terrible! There is no doubt--not +the least doubt--in my mind that the man Oxbye is the man buried under +the name of Lord Harry, and that he was murdered--murdered in cold +blood--by that worst of villains----' + +"'My husband,' I said. + +"'Your husband--most unfortunate of wives! As for Lord Harry's share in +the murder, it is equally plain that he knew of it, even if he did not +consent to it. Good heavens! Do you understand? Do you realise what +they have done? Your husband and Iris's husband may be tried--actually +tried--for murder and put to a shameful death. Think of it!' + +"'I do think of it, Heaven knows! I think of it every day--I think of +it all day long. But, remember, I will say nothing that will bring this +fate upon them. And Fanny will say nothing. Without Fanny's evidence +there cannot be even a suspicion of the truth.' + +"'What does Iris know about it?' + +"'I think that she cannot know anything of the murder. Consider the +dates. On Wednesday Fanny was dismissed; on Thursday she returned +secretly and witnessed the murder. It was on Thursday morning that Lady +Harry drove to Victoria on her return to Passy, as we all supposed, and +as I still suppose. On Saturday Funny was back again. The cottage was +deserted. She was told that the man Oxbye had got up and walked away; +that her mistress had not been at the house at all, but was travelling +in Switzerland; and that Lord Harry was gone on a long journey. And she +was sent into Switzerland to get her out of the way. I gather from all +this that Lady Harry was taken away by her husband directly she +arrived--most likely by night--and that of the murder she knew +nothing.' + +"'No--no--she could know nothing! That, at least, they dared not tell +her. But about the rest? How much does she know? How far has she lent +herself to the conspiracy? Mrs. Vimpany, I shall go back to London +to-night. We will travel by the night train. I feel quite strong +enough.' + +"I began this letter in Scotland; I finish it in London. + +"We are back again in town. Come to the hotel at once, and see us." + +So, there was now a Man to advise. For once, Fanny was thankful for the +creation of Man. To the most misanthropic female there sometimes comes +a time when she must own that Man has his uses. These two women had now +got a Man with whom to take counsel. + +"I do not ask you," said Mr. Mountjoy, with grave face, "how far this +statement of yours is true: I can see plainly that it is true in every +particular." + +"It is quite true, sir; every word of it is true. I have been tempted +to make out a worse case against the doctor, but I have kept myself to +the bare truth." + +"You could not make out a worse case against any man. It is the +blackest case that I ever heard of or read. It is the foulest murder. I +do not understand the exact presence of Lord Harry when the medicine +was given. Did he see the doctor administer it? Did he say anything?" + +"He turned white when the doctor told him that the man was going to +die--that day, perhaps, or next day. When the doctor was pouring out +the medicine he turned pale again and trembled. While the doctor was +taking the photograph he trembled again. I think, sir--I really +think--that he knew all along that the man was going to die, but when +it came to the moment, he was afraid. If it had depended on him, Oxbye +would be alive still." + +"He was a consenting party. Well; for the moment both of you keep +perfect silence. Don't discuss the timing with each other lest you +should be overheard: bury the thing. I am going to make some +inquiries." + +The first thing was to find out what steps had been taken, if any, with +insurance companies. For Iris's sake his inquiry had to be conducted +quite openly. His object must seem none other than the discovery of +Lady Harry Norland's present address. When bankers, insurance +companies, and solicitors altogether have to conduct a piece of +business it is not difficult to ascertain such a simple matter. + +He found out the name of the family solicitor, he went to the office, +sent in his card, and stated his object. As a very old friend of Lady +Harry's, he wanted to learn her address. He had just come up from +Scotland, where he had been ill, and had only just learned her terrible +bereavement. + +The lawyer made no difficulty at all. There was no reason why he +should. Lady Harry had been in London; she was kept in town for nearly +two months by business connected with the unfortunate event; but she +had now gone--she was travelling Switzerland or elsewhere. As for her +address, a letter addressed to his care should be forwarded on hearing +from her ladyship. + +"Her business, I take it, was the proving of the will and the +arrangement of the property." + +"That was the business which kept her in town." + +"Lady Harry," Mr. Mountjoy went on, "had a little property of her own +apart from what she may ultimately get from her father. About five +thousand pounds--not more." + +"Indeed? She did not ask my assistance in respect of her own property." + +"I suppose it is invested and in the hands of trustees. But, indeed, I +do not know. Lord Harry himself, I have heard, was generally in a +penniless condition. Were there any insurances?" + +"Yes; happily there was insurance paid for him by the family. Otherwise +there would have been nothing for the widow." + +"And this has been paid up, I suppose?" + +"Yes; it has been paid into her private account." + +"Thank you," said Mr. Mountjoy. "With your permission, I will address a +letter to Lady Harry here. Will you kindly order it to be forwarded at +the very earliest opportunity?" + +"Iris," he thought, "will not come to London any more. She has been +persuaded by her husband to join in the plot. Good heavens! She has +become a swindler--a conspirator---a fraudulent woman! Iris!--it is +incredible--it is horrible! What shall we do?" + +He first wrote a letter, to the care of the lawyers. He informed her +that he had made a discovery of the highest importance to herself--he +refrained from anything that might give rise to suspicion; he implored +her to give him an interview anywhere, in any part of the world--alone, +he told her that the consequences of refusal might be fatal--absolutely +fatal--to her future happiness: he conjured her to believe that he was +anxious for nothing but her happiness: that he was still, as always, +her most faithful friend. + +Well; he could do no more. He had not the least expectation that his +letter would do any good; he did not even believe that it would reach +Iris. The money was received and paid over to her own account. There +was really no reason at all why she should place herself again in +communication with these lawyers. What would she do, then? One thing +only remained. With her guilty husband, this guilty woman must remain +in concealment for the rest of their days, or until death released her +of the man who was pretending to be dead. At the best, they might find +some place where there would be no chance of anybody ever finding them +who knew either of them before this wicked thing was done. + +But could she know of the murder? + +He remembered the instruction given to Fanny. She was to write to +Brussels. Let her therefore write at once. He would arrange what she +was to say. Under his dictation, therefore, Fanny wrote as follows:-- + +"My Lady,--I have received your ladyship's letter, and your kind gift +of ten pounds. I note your directions to write to you at Brussels, and +I obey them. + +"Mr. Mountjoy, who has been ill and in Scotland, has come back to +London. He begs me to tell you that he has had an interview with your +lawyers, and has learned that you have been in town on business, the +nature of which he has also learned. He has left an important letter +for you at their office. They will forward it as soon as they learn +your address. + +"Since I came back from Passy I have thought it prudent to set down in +writing an exact account of everything that happened there under my own +observation. Mr. Mountjoy has read my story, and thinks that I ought +without delay to send a copy of it to you. I therefore send you one, in +which I have left out all the names, and put in A, B, and C instead, by +his directions. He says that you will have no difficulty in filling up +the names. + +"I remain, my dear Lady, + +"Your ladyship's most obedient and humble servant, + +"FANNY MERE." + + +This letter, with the document, was dispatched to Brussels that night. +And this is the trouble which Iris brought upon herself by answering +Fanny's advertisement. + + + +CHAPTER LX + +ON THE EVE OF A CHANGE + +IRIS returned to Louvain by way of Paris. She had to settle up with the +doctor. + +He obeyed her summons and called upon her at the hotel. + +"Well, my lady," he began in his gross voice, rubbing his hands and +laughing, "it has come off, after all; hasn't it?" + +"I do not desire, Dr. Vimpany, to discuss anything with you. We will +proceed to settle what business we have together." + +"To think that your ladyship should actually fall in!" he replied. "Now +I confess that this was to me the really difficult part of the job. It +is quite easy to pretend that a man is dead, but not so easy to touch +his money. I really do not see how we could have managed at all without +your co-operation. Well, you've had no difficulty, of course?" + +"None at all." + +"I am to have half." + +"I am instructed to give you two thousand pounds. I have the money here +for you." + +"I hope you consider that I deserve this share?" + +"I think, Dr. Vimpany, that whatever you get in the future or the +present you will richly deserve. You have dragged a man down to your +own level--" + +"And a woman too." + +"A woman too. Your reward will come, I doubt not." + +"If it always takes the form of bank-notes I care not how great the +reward may be. You will doubtless, as a good Christian, expect your own +reward--for him and for you?" + +"I have mine already," she replied sadly. "Now, Dr. Vimpany, let me pay +you, and get rid of your company." + +He counted the money carefully and put it in the banker's bag in his +coat-pocket. "Thank you, my lady. We have exchanged compliments enough +over this job." + +"I hope--I pray--that we may never set eyes on you again." + +"I cannot say. People run up against each other in the strangest +manner, especially people who've done shady things and have got to keep +in the background." + +"Enough!--enough!" + +"The background of the world is a very odd place, I assure you. It is +full of interesting people. The society has a piquancy which you will +find, I hope, quite charming. You will be known by another name, of +course?" + +"I shall not tell you by what name--" + +"Tut--tut! I shall soon find out. The background gets narrower when you +fall into misery." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean, Lady Harry, that your husband has no idea whatever as to the +value of money. The two thousand that you are taking him will vanish in +a year or two. What will you do then? As for myself, I know the value +of money so well that I am always buying the most precious and +delightful things with it. I enjoy them immensely. Never any man +enjoyed good things so much as I do. But the delightful things cost +money. Let us be under no illusions. Your ladyship and your noble +husband and I all belong to the background; and in a year or two we +shall belong to the needy background. I daresay that very soon after +that the world will learn that we all belong to the criminal +background. I wish your ladyship a joyful reunion with your husband!" + +He withdrew, and Iris set eyes on him no more. But the prophecy with +which he departed remained with her, and it was with a heart foreboding +fresh sorrows that she left Paris and started for Louvain. + + +Here began the new life--that of concealment and false pretence. Iris +put off her weeds, but she never ventured abroad without a thick veil. +Her husband, discovering that English visitors sometimes ran over from +Brussels to see the Hotel de Ville, never ventured out at all till +evening. They had no friends and no society of any kind. + +The house, which stood secluded behind a high wall in its garden, was +in the quietest part of this quiet old city; no sound of life and work +reached it; the pair who lived there seldom spoke to each other. Except +at the midday breakfast and the dinner they did not meet. Iris sat in +her own room, silent; Lord Harry sat in his, or paced the garden walks +for hours. + +Thus the days went on monotonously. The clock ticked; the hours struck; +they took meals; they slept; they rose and dressed; they took meals +again--this was all their life. This was all that they could expect for +the future. + +The weeks went on. For three months Iris endured this life. No news +came to her from the outer world; her husband had even forgotten the +first necessary of modern life--the newspaper. It was not the ideal +life of love, apart from the world, where the two make for themselves a +Garden of Eden; it was a prison, in which two were confined together +who were kept apart by their guilty secret. + +They ceased altogether to speak; their very meals were taken in +silence. The husband saw continual reproach in his wife's eyes; her sad +and heavy look spoke more plainly than any words, "It is to this that +you have brought me." + +One morning Iris was idly turning over the papers in her desk. There +were old letters, old photographs, all kinds of trifling treasures that +reminded her of the past--a woman keeps everything; the little +mementoes of her childhood, her first governess, her first school, her +school friendships--everything. As Iris turned over these things her +mind wandered back to the old days. She became again a young +girl--innocent, fancy free; she grew up--she was a woman innocent +still. Then her mind jumped at one leap to the present, and she saw +herself as she was--innocent no longer, degraded and guilty, the vile +accomplice of a vile conspiracy. + +Then, as one who has been wearing coloured glasses puts them off and +sees things in their own true colours, she saw how she had been pulled +down by a blind infatuation to the level of the man who had held her in +his fascination; she saw him as he was--reckless, unstable, careless of +name and honour. Then for the first time she realised the depths into +which she was plunged and the life which she was henceforth doomed to +lead. The blind love fell from her--it was dead at last; but it left +her bound to the man by a chain which nothing could break; she was in +her right senses; she saw things as they were; but the knowledge came +too late. + +Her husband made no attempt to bridge over the estrangement which had +thus grown up between them: it became wider every day; he lived apart +and alone; he sat in his own room, smoking more cigars, drinking more +brandy-and-water than was good for him; sometimes he paced the gravel +walks in the garden; in the evening, after dinner, he went out and +walked about the empty streets of the quiet city. Once or twice he +ventured into a cafe, sitting in a corner, his hat drawn over his eyes; +but that was dangerous. For the most part he kept in the streets, and +he spoke to no one. + +Meantime the autumn had given place to winter, which began in wet and +dreary fashion. Day and night the rain fell, making the gravel walks +too wet and the streets impossible. Then Lord Harry sat in his room and +smoked all day long. And still the melancholy of the one increased, and +the boredom of the other. + +He spoke at last. It was after breakfast. + +"Iris," he said, "how long is this to continue?" + +"This--what?" + +"This life--this miserable solitude and silence." + +"Till we die," she replied. "What else do you expect? You have sold our +freedom, and we must pay the price." + +"No; it shall end. I will end it. I can endure it no longer." + +"You are still young. You will perhaps have forty years more to +live--all like this--as dull and empty. It is the price we must pay." + +"No," he repeated, "it shall end. I swear that I will go on like this +no longer." + +"You had better go to London and walk in Piccadilly to get a little +society." + +"What do you care what I do or where I go?" + +"We will not reproach each other, Harry." + +"Why--what else do you do all day long but reproach me with your gloomy +looks and your silence?" + +"Well--end it if you can. Find some change in the life." + +"Be gracious for a little, and listen to my plan. I have made a plan. +Listen, Iris. I can no longer endure this life. It drives me mad." + +"And me too. That is one reason why we should not desire to change it. +Mad people forget. They think they are somewhere else. For us to +believe that we were somewhere else would be in itself happiness." + +"I am resolved to change it--to change it, I say--at any risk. We will +leave Louvain." + +"We can, I dare say," Iris replied coldly, "find another town, French +or Belgian, where we can get another cottage, behind high walls in a +garden, and hide there." + +"No. I will hide no longer. I am sick of hiding." + +"Go on. What is your plan? Am I to pretend to be some one else's +widow?" + +"We will go to America. There are heaps of places in the States where +no English people ever go---neither tourists nor settlers--places where +they have certainly never heard of us. We will find some quiet village, +buy a small farm, and settle among the people. I know something about +farming. We need not trouble to make the thing pay. And we will go back +to mankind again. Perhaps, Iris--when we have gone back to the +world--you will--" he hesitated--"you will be able to forgive me, and +to regard me again with your old thoughts. It was done for your sake." + +"It was not done for my sake. Do not repeat that falsehood. The old +thoughts will never come back, Harry. They are dead and gone. I have +ceased to respect you or myself. Love cannot survive the loss of +self-respect. Who am I that I should give love to anybody? Who are you +that you should expect love?" + +"Will you go with me to America--love or no love? I cannot stay here--I +will not stay here." + +"I will go with you wherever you please. I should like not to run +risks. There are still people whom it would pain to see Iris Henley +tried and found guilty with two others on a charge of fraudulent +conspiracy." + +"I wouldn't accustom myself, if I were you, Iris, to speak of things +too plainly. Leave the thing to me and I will arrange it. See now, we +will travel by a night train from Brussels to Calais. We will take the +cross-country line from Amiens to Havre; there we will take boat for +New York--no English people ever travel by the Havre line. Once in +America we will push up country--to Kentucky or somewhere--and find +that quiet country place: after that I ask no more. I will settle down +for the rest of my life, and have no more adventures. Do you agree, +Iris?" + +"I will do anything that you wish," she replied coldly. + +"Very well. Let us lose no time. I feel choked here. Will you go into +Brussels and buy a Continental Bradshaw or a Baedeker, or something +that will tell us the times of sailing, the cost of passage, and all +the rest of it? We will take with us money to start us with: you will +have to write to your bankers. We can easily arrange to have the money +sent to New York, and it can be invested there--except your own +fortune--in my new name. We shall want no outfit for a fortnight at +sea. I have arranged it all beautifully. Child, look like your old +self." He took an unresisting hand. "I want to see you smile and look +happy again." + +"You never will." + +"Yes--when we have got ourselves out of this damnable, unwholesome way +of life; when we are with our fellow-creatures again. You will forget +this--this little business--which was, you know, after all, an unhappy +necessity." + +"Oh! how can I ever forget?" + +"New interests will arise; new friendships will be formed--" + +"Harry, it is myself that I cannot forgive. Teach me to forgive myself, +and I will forget everything." + +He pressed her no longer. + +"Well, then," he said, "go to Brussels and get this information. If you +will not try to conquer this absurd moral sensitiveness--which comes +too late--you will at least enable me to place you in a healthier +atmosphere." + +"I will go at once," she said, "I will go by the next train." + +"There is a train at a quarter to two. You can do all you have to do +and catch the train at five. Iris"--the chance of a change made him +impatient--"let us go to-morrow. Let us go by the night express. There +will be English travellers, but they shall not recognise me. We shall +be in Calais at one in the morning. We will go on by an early train +before the English steamer comes in. Will you be ready?" + +"Yes; there is nothing to delay me. I suppose we can leave the house by +paying the rent? I will go and do what you want." + +"Let us go this very night." + +"If you please; I am always ready." + +"No: there will be no time; it will look like running away. We will go +to-morrow night. Besides, you would be too tired after going to +Brussels and back. Iris, we are going to be happy again--I am sure we +are." He, for one, looked as if there was nothing to prevent a return +of happiness. He laughed and waved his hands. "A new sky---new +scenes--new work--you will be happy again, Iris. You shall go, dear. +Get me the things I want." + +She put on her thick veil and started on her short journey. The +husband's sudden return to his former good spirits gave her a gleam of +hope. The change would be welcome indeed if it permitted him to go +about among other men, and to her if it gave her occupation. As to +forgetting--how could she forget the past, so long as they were reaping +the fruit of their wickedness in the shape of solid dividends? She +easily found what she wanted. The steamer of the Compagnie Generale +Transatlantique left Havre every eighth day. They would go by that +line. The more she considered the plan the more it recommended itself. +They would at any rate go out of prison. There would be a change in +their life. Miserable condition! To have no other choice of life but +that of banishment and concealment: no other prospect than that of +continual fraud renewed by every post that brought them money. + +When she had got all the information that was wanted she had still an +hour or two before her. She thought she would spend the time wandering +about the streets of Brussels. The animation and life of the cheerful +city--where all the people except the market-women are young--pleased +her. It was long since she had seen any of the cheerfulness that +belongs to a busy street. She walked slowly along, up one street and +down another, looking into the shops. She made two or three little +purchases. She looked into a place filled with Tauchnitz Editions, and +bought two or three books. She was beginning to think that she was +tired and had better make her way back to the station, when suddenly +she remembered the post-office and her instructions to Fanny Mere. + +"I wonder," she said, "if Fanny has written to me." + +She asked the way to the post-office. There was time if she walked +quickly. + +At the Poste Restante there was a letter for her--more than a letter, a +parcel, apparently a book. + +She received it and hurried back to the station. + +In the train she amused herself with looking through the leaves of her +new books. Fanny Mere's letter she would read after dinner. + +At dinner they actually talked. Lord Harry was excited with the +prospect of going back to the world. He had enjoyed his hermitage, he +said, quite long enough. Give him the society of his fellow-creatures. +"Put me among cannibals," he said, "and I should make friends with +them. But to live alone--it is the devil! To-morrow we begin our new +flight." + +After dinner he lit his cigar, and went on chattering about the future. +Iris remembered the packet she had got at the post-office, and opened +it. It contained a small manuscript book filled with writing and a +brief letter. She read the letter, laid it down, and opened the book. + + + +CHAPTER LXI + +THE LAST DISCOVERY + +"I SHALL like to turn farmer," Lord Harry went on talking while Iris +opened and began to read Fanny's manuscript. "After all my adventures, +to settle down in a quiet place and cultivate the soil. On market-day +we will drive into town together"--he talked as if Kentucky were +Warwickshire--"side by side in a spring cart. I shall have samples of +grain in bags, and you will have a basket of butter and cream. It will +be an ideal life. We shall dine at the ordinary, and, after dinner, +over a pipe and a glass of grog, I shall discuss the weather and the +crops. And while we live in this retreat of ours, over here the very +name of Harry Norland will have been forgotten. Queer, that! We shall +go on living long after we are dead and buried and forgotten. In the +novels the man turns up after he is supposed to be cast +away--wrecked--drowned--dead long ago. But he never turns up when he is +forgotten--unless he is Rip Van Winkle. By Gad, Iris! when we are old +people we will go home and see the old places together. It will be +something to look forward to--something to live for--eh?" + +"I feel quite happy this evening, Iris; happier than I have been for +months. The fact is, this infernal place has hipped us both +confoundedly. I didn't like to grumble, but I've felt the monotony more +than a bit. And so have you. It's made you brood over things. Now, for +my part, I like to look at the bright side. Here we are comfortably cut +off from the past. That's all done with. Nothing in the world can +revive the memory of disagreeable things if we are only true to +ourselves and agree to forget them. What has been done can never be +discovered. Not a soul knows except the doctor, and between him and +ourselves we are going to put a few thousand--What's the matter, Iris? +What the devil is the matter?" + +For Iris, who had been steadily reading while her husband chattered on, +suddenly dropped the book, and turned upon him a white face and eyes +struck with horror. + +"What is it?" Lord Harry repeated. + +"Oh! Is this true?" + +"What?" + +"I cannot say it. Oh, my God! can this be true?" + +"What? Speak, Iris." He sprang to his feet. "Is it--is it discovered?" + +"Discovered? Yes, all--all--all--is discovered!" + +"Where? How? Give me the thing, Iris. Quick! Who knows? What is known?" + +He snatched the book from her hands. She shrank from his touch, and +pushed back her chair, standing in an attitude of self-defence--watching +him as one would watch a dangerous creature. + +He swiftly read page after page, eager to know the worst. Then he threw +the book upon the table. + +"Well?" he said, not lifting his eyes. + +"The man was murdered--murdered!" she whispered. + +He made no reply. + +"You looked on while he was murdered! You looked on consenting! You are +a murderer!" + +"I had no share or part in it. I did not know he was being poisoned." + +"You knew when I was with you. Oh! the dead man--the murdered man--was +in the house at the very moment! Your hands were red with blood when +you took me away--to get me out of the way--so that I should not +know--" She stopped, she could not go on. + +"I did not know, Iris--not with certainty. I thought he was dying when +he came into the house. He did not die; he began to recover. When the +doctor gave him his medicine--after that woman went away--I suspected. +When he died, my suspicions were stronger. I challenged him. He did not +deny it. Believe me, Iris, I neither counselled it nor knew of it." + +"You acquiesced in it. You consented. You should have warned the--the +other murderer that you would denounce him if the man died. You took +advantage of it. His death enabled you to carry out your fraud with me +as your accomplice. With ME! I am an accomplice in a murder!" + +"No, no, Iris; you knew nothing of it. No one can ever accuse you--" + +"You do not understand. It is part of the accusation which I make +against myself." + +"As for what this woman writes," her husband went on, "it is true. I +suppose it is useless to deny a single word of it. She was hidden +behind the curtain, then! She heard and saw all! If Vimpany had found +her! He was right. No one so dangerous as a woman. Yes; she has told +you exactly what happened. She suspected all along. We should have sent +her away and changed our plans. This comes of being too clever. Nothing +would do for the doctor but the man's death. I hoped--we both +hoped--that he would die a natural death. He did not. Without a dead +man we were powerless. We had to get a dead man, Iris, I will hide +nothing more from you, whatever happens. I confess everything. I knew +that he was going to die. When he began to get well I was filled with +forebodings, because I knew that he would never be allowed to go away. +How else could we find a dead body? You can't steal a body; you can't +make one up. You must have one for proof of death. I say"--his voice +was harsh and hoarse--"I say that I knew he must die. I saw his death +in the doctor's face. And there was no more money left for a new +experiment if Oxbye should get well and go away. When it came to the +point I was seized with mortal terror. I would have given up +everything--everything--to see the man get up from his bed and go away. +But it was too late. I saw the doctor prepare the final dose, and when +he had it to his lips I saw by his eyes that it was the drink of death. +I have told you all," he concluded. + +"You have told me all," she repeated. "All! Good Heavens! All!" + +"I have hidden nothing from you. Now there is nothing more to tell." + +She stood perfectly still--her hands clasped, her eyes set, her face +white and stern. + +"What I have to do now," she said, "lies plain before me." + +"Iris! I implore you, make no change in our plans. Let us go away as we +proposed. Let the past be forgotten. Come with me--" + +"Go with you? With you? With you? Oh!" she shuddered. + +"Iris! I have told you all. Let us go on as if you had heard nothing. +We cannot be more separated than we have been for the last three +months. Let us remain as we are until the time when you will be able to +feel for me--to pity my weakness--and to forgive me." + +"You do not understand. Forgive you? It is no longer a question of +forgiveness. Who am I that my forgiveness should be of the least value +to you--or to any?" + +"What is the question, then?" + +"I don't know. A horrible crime has been committed--a horrible, +ghastly, dreadful crime--such a thing as one reads of in the papers and +wonders, reading it, what manner of wild beasts must be those who do +such things. Perhaps one wonders, besides, what manner of women must be +those who associate with those wild beasts. My husband is one of those +wild beasts!--my husband!--my husband!--and--I--I am one of the women +who are the fit companions of these wild creatures." + +"You can say what you please, Iris; what you please." + +"I have known--only since I came here have I really known and +understood--that I have wrecked my life in a blind passion. I have +loved you, Harry; it has been my curse. I followed you against the +warnings of everybody: I have been rewarded--by this. We are in hiding. +If we are found we shall be sent to a convict prison for conspiracy. We +shall be lucky if we are not tried for murder and hanged by the neck +until we are dead. This is my reward!" + +"I have never played the hypocrite with you, Iris. I have never +pretended to virtues which I do not possess. So far--" + +"Hush! Do not speak to me. I have something more to say, and then I +shall never speak to you any more. Hush! Let me collect my thoughts. I +cannot find the words. I cannot. . . Wait--wait! Oh!" She sat down and +burst into sobbings and moanings. But only for a minute. Then she +sprang to her feet again and dashed back the tears. "Time for crying," +she said, "when all is done. Harry, listen carefully; these are my last +words. You will never hear from me any more. You must manage your own +life in your own way, to save it or to spoil it; I will never more bear +any part in it. I am going back to England--alone. I shall give up your +name, and I shall take my maiden name again--or some other. I shall +live somewhere quietly where you will not discover me. But perhaps you +will not look for me?" + +"I will not," he said. "I owe you so much. I will not look for you." + +"As regards the money which I have obtained for you under false +pretences, out of the fifteen thousand pounds for which you were +insured, five thousand have been paid to my private account. I shall +restore to the Company all that money." + +"Good Heavens! Iris, you will be prosecuted on a criminal charge." + +"Shall I? That will matter little, provided I make reparation. Alas! +who shall make reparation--who shall atone--for the blood-spilling? For +all things else in this world we may make what we call atonement; but +not for the spilling of blood." + +"You mean this? You will deliberately do this?" + +"I mean every word. I will do nothing and say nothing that will betray +you. But the money that I can restore, I will restore--SO HELP ME, +GOD!" With streaming eyes she raised her hand and pointed upwards. + +Her husband bowed his head. + +"You have said all you wished to say?" he asked humbly. + +"I have said all." + +"Let me look in your face once more---so--full--with the light upon it. +Yes; I have loved you, Iris--I have always loved you. Better, far +better, for you had you fallen dead at my feet on the day when you +became my wife. Then I should have been spared--I should have been +spared a great deal. You are right, Iris. Your duty lies plainly before +you. As for me, I must think of mine. Farewell! The lips of a murderer +are not fit to touch even the hem of your garments. Farewell!" + +He left her. She heard the hall door open and shut. She would see her +husband no more. + +She went to her own room and packed a single box with necessary things. +Then she called the housemaid and informed her that she had been +summoned to return suddenly to England; she must reach Brussels at +least that evening. The woman brought a porter who carried her box to +the station; and Iris left Louvain--and her husband--for ever. + + + +CHAPTER LXII + +THE BOARD OF DIRECTORS + +AT a Board Meeting of the Royal Unicorn Life Insurance Company, +specially convened, the Chairman had to make a communication of a very +remarkable character. + +"Gentlemen," he said, "I call upon the Secretary, without further +introduction, to read a letter, to consider which you are called +together this day." + +"The letter," the Secretary began, "is simply headed 'Paris,' dated two +days ago." + +"Only two days ago," said the Chairman, mysteriously. "But, of course, +that means nothing. There has been plenty of time for him to change his +residence. I dare say he may be in London at our very elbow. Go on, if +you please." + +"Gentlemen"--the Secretary proceeded to read the letter. "It is now +three months since a claim was sent in to you by the firm of Erskine, +Mansfield, Denham & Co., solicitors of Lincoln's Inn Fields, for the +sum of 15,000 pounds due to the heirs of Lord Harry Norland in respect +of an insurance effected upon his life." + +"The claim, gentlemen," said the Chairman, "was duly acknowledged and +paid some weeks later. It was a heavy loss; but these things will +occur, and there seemed no reason to doubt the facts alleged, or to +dispute the claim." + +"I write this letter," the Secretary continued reading, "in order to +inform you that the claim was fraudulent, inasmuch as Lord Harry +Norland was at the time, and is still, actually living." + +Fraudulent! The man still living! At this point there was a sudden +awakening. Everybody sat up and listened with all their ears. + +"I may tell you, gentlemen," the Chairman explained, "that the writer +of this remarkable letter is none other than Lord Harry Norland +himself. We will now proceed without further interruption." + +"In conjunction with another person, I devised and carried out +successfully a plan by which I was enabled to touch at once, and +without the disagreeable necessity of previously expiring and being +buried, the whole of the money for which I was insured. Other people +have attempted the same design, I believe, but the thing has hitherto +been managed clumsily. In my own case, it has been managed with great +dexterity and artistic skill. As you will naturally be curious on a +subject which interests you so closely I have no objection to reveal +the method. It is not enough to write to your office and state that a +certain person is dead. One must be prepared with proofs of the death +should any doubt arise. No proof of death is quite satisfactory without +evidence as to the disposal of the dead body. With that object, we +procured from the Hotel Dieu a patient apparently in an advanced state +of consumption. My accomplice, being a medical man, highly recommended, +was able to do this without suspicion. We nursed him ostentatiously. +During the latter part of the illness he was nursed under the name of +Lord Harry Norland. He died. His name was entered in the official +register as Lord Harry Norland. He was buried in the cemetery at +Auteuil, near Paris, as Lord Harry Norland. A headstone marks his +grave, which is purchased in perpetuity. The doctor certified the cause +of his death, and communicated the fact to the deceased's brother, Lord +Malven, and to the deceased's solicitors. The death was also announced +to the papers. The difficulties attendant on the successful conduct of +the business are so great that you need not fear a repetition. Nobody, +in order to assist a fraud, will consent to die and lend his own body. +It is seldom, indeed, that a sick man can be found--a foreigner and +friendless--whose death will cause no curiosity and raise no questions. +Add to this, it is extremely difficult, as I have now experienced, to +find the necessary assistance without encountering the objections of +conscience." + +"Upon my word!" cried one of the Directors, "this is a most wonderful +letter. I beg your pardon. Pray go on." + +"We began very well. We buried our man under the name of Lord Harry +Norland, as I have said. The difficulty then arose as to the +presentation of the claim. It was most desirable that the claim should +be made by the person who would most naturally be the deceased's heir +and after proving his will and by his own solicitor. + +"I am married. I have no children. I have not lived on good terms with +my family. It was, therefore, quite reasonable to expect that I should +leave my wife sole heir and executrix. It was also natural that she +should go to my solicitors--the family solicitors--and ask them to +manage her affairs. + +"With this object I confessed to my wife as much of the conspiracy as +was necessary. Like many women, she possesses, in addition to every +virtue, a blessed devotion to her husband. Where he is concerned she is +easily led even from the paths of honour. I practised on that devotion; +I used all the arguments and persuasions based on that devotion +necessary to convert a woman of honour into the accomplice of a +conspiracy. In brief, I made my wife join in the fraud. She consented +to act for me, persuaded that if she did not the conspiracy would be +discovered. The business has, therefore been carried through with the +greatest success. You have paid the claim in full without question. For +me there was left the very comfortable provision of 15,000 pounds, with +the consciousness of a daring and successful swindle. Unfortunately, my +wife has now discovered that her conscience will give her no peace or +rest until full restitution of the money has been made. She has +informed me of her intention to send back without delay that part of it +which lies at her bank in her own name--that is to say, five thousand +pounds. + +"I do not suppose that, as gentlemen, you would be disposed to subject +a woman who thus desires to repair a wrong to the degradation of a +public prosecution. No useful end, in fact, will be served in so doing. +It is, in fact, in the conviction that you will take no proceedings +that I write this letter. + +"Further, as I wish my wife's scruples of conscience to be completely +set at rest, I am prepared, on an assurance that the matter will be +allowed to drop, to forward to you the remainder of the money, less two +thousand pounds, which I have reason to believe will be sent to you in +course of time. I am also prepared to instruct my wife, as my heir, in +the event of my death to make no claim on the Company; and I have +requested my solicitor to cease paying the annual premium. The Company +will, therefore, be the gainers of the whole premiums which have been +paid--namely, 300 pounds a year for ten years: that is to say, 3,000 +pounds. + +"As for myself, I will take the necessary steps as soon as you have +given me that letter of assurance. As regards the other principal in +the Conspiracy, it is hardly worth your while to search after him. I +shall be obliged if you will be so good as to acknowledge this letter +without delay, with any assurance which you may be able to make as +regards the person whom I have dragged into the affair. I send you an +address where a letter will find me. You may wish to watch the house. I +assure you beforehand that it is useless. I shall not go there.--I +remain, Gentlemen, + +"Your obedient servant, + +"HARRY NORLAND." + + +"Perhaps," said the Secretary, "it is in connection with this letter +that I have this day received a packet of bank-notes amounting in all +to the sum of five thousand pounds. The packet is endorsed 'Restitution +money.'" + +"Bank-notes, gentlemen," said the Chairman significantly, "may be +traced if necessary." + +The Directors looked at each other. This was, indeed, a very remarkable +story, and one never before brought to the notice of any Board. + +"Gentlemen," said the Chairman, "you have heard the letter; you now +have the case before you. I should like to hear your views." + +"We are likely to get most of our money back," said one of the +Directors, "it seems to me, by holding our tongues. That is the main +thing." + +"If we could get Lord Harry himself," said another, "I should say: Go +for him, but not for his wife. I wonder we ever took his life at all. +If all stories are true about him he is as bad as they make 'em. He ran +away when he was a boy, and went to sea: he was a strolling actor after +that: he went out to the States and was reported to have been seen in +the West: he has been a ship's steward: he has been on the turf. What +has he not been?" + +"We have got the money," said another; "that is the great thing. We +must remember that we should never have found out the thing unless--" + +"The Company must not compound a felony," said the Chairman. + +"Certainly not. By no means. At the same time, would any good purpose +be served by public scandal in connection with a noble House?" + +"The noble House," said another Director, who was Radical, "may very +well take care of itself. Question is, Would it do any good to anybody +if we ran in the wife?" + +"Who is she?" + +"You would expect a ruffian like Lord Harry to marry a woman like +himself. Not at all. He married a most charming creature named +Henley--Iris Henley--father very well known in the City. I heard of it +at the time. She would have him---infatuated about him--sad business. +Mr. Chairman, I submit that it is quite impossible for us to take +proceedings against this unfortunate lady, who is doing her utmost to +make restitution." + +"The Company must not compound a felony," the Chairman repeated. + +"Even if we do not get back that two thousand pounds," said the +Secretary, "the Company will lose nothing. The surrender value must be +considered." + +Then another of the Directors spoke. "We do not know where this lady is +to be found. She is probably passing under another name. It is not our +business to hunt her down." + +"And if we found her we should have to prove the case, and her guilty +knowledge of the conspiracy," said another. "How would this precious +letter be taken as evidence? Why, we do not even know that it is true. +We might exhume the body: what would that prove after three months? We +might open up the case, and spend a heap of money, and create a great +scandal, and be none the better for it afterwards. My advice is, let +the thing drop." + +"Well, but," objected another, "suppose we admit that the man is still +living. He may die, and then there would be another claim upon us." + +"Of that," said the Chairman, "I think there need be no apprehension +whatever. You have heard his letter. But, I repeat, we must not +compound a felony!" + +"I submit, Mr. Chairman," said one who had not spoken--and he was a +barrister--"that the Company knows nothing at all about Lady Harry +Norland. We have had to deal with the firm of Erskine, Mansfield, +Denham & Co., of Lincoln's Inn Fields: and a most respectable firm too. +On their representations we paid the money. If it can be ascertained +that we have been defrauded we must look to them. If we have to +prosecute anybody it must be that respectable firm." + +"Good," said the Chairman. + +"I propose, therefore, that the Secretary write to Lord Harry Norland, +informing him that the Company have had nothing at all to do with his +wife, and do not recognise her action in any way. We shall then see +what happens, and can proceed in accordance." + +At this moment a card was brought in. It was that of Mr. Erskine +himself, senior partner in the very firm. + +He came in, old, eminently respectable, but shaken. He was greatly +shaken. "Gentlemen," he said nervously, "I hasten to bring you a +communication, a most extraordinary communication, which I have just +received. It is nothing less than a confession--a full confession--from +a person whom I had every reason to believe was dead. It is from Lord +Harry Norland." + +"We know already," said the Chairman, superior, "the main facts which +you are going to lay before us. We are met to-day in order to discuss +our action in view of these facts. There has been a conspiracy of a +very artful and ingenious character. It has been successful so far +through the action of a woman. By the action of the same woman it is +sought to make restitution. The hand of justice, however--" + +"Perhaps," said the lawyer, "you will oblige me by allowing me to read +the letter." + +"Pray read it"--the Chairman bowed--"though I do not suppose it will +add to the information we already possess." + +"Gentlemen"--the lawyer read--"You will be surprised and pained to +learn that I am not--as you were given to understand--dead; but on the +other hand, living and in the enjoyment of rude health. I see no reason +why my life should not be prolonged to threescore years and ten. + +"The claim, therefore, which you sent in to the Royal Unicorn Life +Insurance Company was fraudulent. It was the result of a deep-laid +conspiracy. You have been made the innocent accomplice of a great +crime. + +"My wife, who now knows the whole truth, is most anxious for +restitution to be made. She is about to restore that portion of the +money which lies in her name. Most of the rest will be sent back by +myself, on certain conditions. + +"In communicating the fact of my being still alive to the head of my +family you will please also to inform him that I authorise the +discontinuance of the premium. This will save the family 300 pounds a +year. This will be a solatium to him for the fact that his brother +still lives to disgrace the name. If I should die before the next +premium is due I order my heirs not to claim the money.--I remain, +Gentlemen, your obedient servant, + +"HARRY NORLAND." + + +"The premium which should have been paid under ordinary circumstances," +said the Secretary, "was due six weeks ago. The policy has therefore +expired." + +"It is a characteristic letter," said the lawyer. "Lord Harry was born +to be a trouble to his family. There has never been a time, so far as I +remember, when he was not a trouble and a disgrace. Hitherto, however, +he has avoided actual crime--at least, actual detection. Now, I +suppose, the game is up. Yet, gentlemen, the letter is not that of an +utter villain." + +"He will not be caught," observed the Chairman. "The letter is from too +cool a hand. He has prepared a retreat. I dare say by this time he is +in some safe and convenient disguise. We are only concerned--are we +not?--for the moment with the lady. She has received the money from +you. We paid it to you on your representations." + +"Observe," said the lawyer, "that the moment she learns the truth she +hastens to make restitution." + +"Humph!" said the Director, turning over Lord Harry's letter so that +the lawyer should not be able to read the contents. "Have you seen +her?" + +"I have not. I expect to do so before long. She will certainly call +upon me." + +"She will be ill-advised," said the Chairman, "if she calls upon +anybody just at present. Well, sir, I confess that I should be +sorry--every member of this Board would be sorry--to see that lady +placed in the dock beside her husband." + +"In the interests of the noble family concerned, I hope that neither of +them will be placed in the dock." + +"Do you know who is the other man--the second principal?" + +"I can guess. I do not know, however, where he is. All I know is what I +have communicated to you--the contents of this letter." + +"One would like to get hold of the other man," said the Chairman. +"Presumably he does not belong to a noble family. Well, sir, I don't +know what may be done; but this Company cannot, I repeat, compound a +felony." + +"Certainly not. Most certainly not. At present, however, you have got +very little to go upon. And unless evidence is forthcoming--" + +"We will not discuss that part of the business," said the Chairman. "A +conspiracy has been undoubtedly entered into. We may be compelled to +bring an action of some kind against your firm, Mr. Erskine. As regards +the lady, if she is guilty--" + +"No--no," said the lawyer, "upon my life! Sinned against--not guilty." + +The Chairman folded up Lord Harry's letter and gave it to the +Secretary. + +"We are much obliged to you, sir, for your prompt action. It is, of +course, only what we should have expected of your firm. Meantime, +remember that the claim was made by you, that you received the money, +and--but we will communicate with you in a few days." + +The Secretary wrote such a letter as was suggested. By return of post a +cheque was sent, signed by one William Linville, for the sum of eight +thousand pounds. The Company had, therefore, recovered thirteen out of +fifteen thousand pounds. The Secretary had another interview with Mr. +Erskine, the result of which was that the Company recovered the +remaining two thousand pounds. + +Every firm of solicitors contains its own secrets and keeps them. +Therefore, we need not inquire whether it was intended that this money +should be paid by the firm or by the noble family to which Lord Harry +Norland belonged. It is, however, certain that a few days afterwards +Mr. Hugh Mountjoy called at the office and had a long conversation with +the senior partner, and that he left behind him a very big cheque. + +The subject has never been brought before the Directors again. It was, +indeed, privately discussed, and that frequently. Perhaps the story was +whispered about outside the Board-room. These things do get about. +There has been, however, a feeling that the thing, which would have +been perfectly successful but for the conscience of a woman concerned, +might be repeated with less tender consciences, and so the Companies be +defrauded. Now the wickedness of the world is already so great that it +needs no more teaching to make it worse. On the whole, the less said +the better. + +Besides, the tragic event which happened a day or two later effectively +prevented any further step. That in itself was sufficient to wipe out +the whole business. + + + +CHAPTER LXIII + +A REFUGE + +IT was all over. Iris had sent in her money. She was in a small lodging +found for her by Fanny Mere, who called her cousin. She stayed indoors +all day long, afraid of stirring abroad; afraid to read the papers; +afraid that her husband was arrested on the charge of conspiracy and +fraud; afraid that some kind of hue and cry might be out after her. + +Therefore, when she heard a manly step on the stair, she started and +turned pale, expecting nothing short of an armed messenger of the law. +She never was in this danger for a single minute, but conscience made a +coward of her. + +The step was that of Hugh Mountjoy. + +"I found you out," he said, "by means of Fanny. The girl knew that she +was safe in letting me know your secret. Why are you in concealment?" + +"You cannot know all, or you would not ask me that." + +"I do know all; and again I ask, why are you in concealment?" + +"Because--Oh, Hugh--spare me!" + +"I know all, which is the reason why I cannot choose but come to see +you. Come out of this poor place; resume your own name. There is no +reason why you should not. You were not present at Passy when this +conspiracy was hatched; you got there after the funeral. You, +naturally, went to see the family solicitors. Iris, what has the +conspiracy to do with you?" It will be observed that Hugh had not read +the letter written to the Directors of the Company. + +"Do you know about the money?" + +"Certainly. You sent back all that you could--five thousand pounds. +That showed your own innocence--" + +"Hugh, you know that I am guilty." + +"The world will think that you are innocent. At any rate, you can come +out and go about without fear. Tell me, what are your plans?" + +"I have no plans. I only want to hide my head--somewhere." + +"Yes; we will talk about that presently. Meantime, I have some news for +you." + +"News? What news?" + +"Really good news. I have to tell you a thing which will surprise you." + +"Good news? What good news is there for me?" + +"Your husband has sent back the whole of the money." + +"Sent back? To the Insurance Office?" + +"All has been sent back. He wrote two letters--one to the solicitors +and the other to the Insurance Company. It is not likely now that +anything can be said, because the Directors have accepted the money. +Moreover, it appears that they might have proceeded against the lawyers +for the recovery of the money, but that they have nothing to do either +with you or with Lord Harry Norland. That is a difficult point, +however. Somebody, it seems, has compounded--or is going to compound--a +felony. I do not understand exactly what this means, or what dreadful +consequences might follow; but I am assured by the lawyers that we need +apprehend nothing more. All is over." + +Iris heaved a profound sigh. + +"Then he is safe?" she said. + +"You think of him first," said Hugh, jealously. "Yes: he is safe; and, +I do hope, gone away, out of the country, never to come back any more. +The more important thing is that you should be safe from him. As for +the doctor--but I cannot speak of the doctor with common patience. Let +him be left to the end which always awaits such men. It is to be hoped +that he will never, wherever he goes, feel himself in safety." + +"I am safe," said Iris, "not only from my husband, but from what else +beside? You know what I mean. You mean that I, as well as my husband, +am safe from that. Oh! the fear of it has never left me--never for one +moment. You tell me that I am safe from public disgrace, and I +rejoice--when I ought to sink into the earth with shame!" She covered +her face with her hands. + +"Iris, we know what you have done. We also know why you did it. What +need we say more? The thing is finished and done with. Let us never +again allude to it. The question now is--what will you do next? Where +will you live?" + +"I do not know. I have got Fanny Mere with me. Mrs. Vimpany is also +anxious to live with me. I am rich, indeed, since I have two faithful +dependants and one friend." + +"In such wealth, Iris, you will always be rich. Now listen seriously. I +have a villa in the country. It is far away from London, in the +Scottish Lowlands--quite out of the way--remote even from tourists and +travellers. It is a very lonely place, but there is a pretty house, +with a great garden behind and a stretch of sand and seashore in front. +There one may live completely isolated. I offer you that villa for your +residence. Take it; live in it as long as you please." + +"No, no. I must not accept such a gift." + +"You must, Iris--you shall. I ask it of you as a proof of friendship, +and nothing more. Only, I fear that you will get tired of the +loneliness." + +"No--no," she said. "I cannot get tired of loneliness it is all I +want." + +"There is no society at all." + +"Society? Society for me?" + +"I go to the neighbourhood sometimes for fishing. You will let me call +upon you?" + +"Who else has such a right?" + +"Then you will accept my offer?" + +"I feel that I must. Yes, Hugh; yes, with deepest gratitude." + +The next day she went down by the night-mail to Scotland. With her +travelled Mrs. Vimpany and Fanny Mere. + + + +CHAPTER LXIV + +THE INVINCIBLES + +THE proceedings of Lord Harry after he had sent off that cheque were +most remarkable. If he had invited--actually courted--what followed--he +could not have acted differently. + +He left London and crossed over to Dublin. + +Arrived there, he went to a small hotel entirely frequented by Irish +Americans and their friends. It was suspected of being the principal +place of resort of the Invincibles. It was known to be a house entirely +given up to the Nationalists. He made no attempt to conceal his name. +He entered the hotel, greeted the landlord cheerfully, saluted the head +waiter, ordered his dinner, and took no notice of the sullen looks with +which he was received or the scowls which followed him about the +coffee-room, where half a dozen men were sitting and talking, for the +most part in whispers. + +He slept there that night. + +The next day, still openly and as if there was nothing to fear, either +from England or from Ireland, he walked to the station and took his +ticket, paying no attention to what all the world might have seen and +understood--that he was watched. When he had taken his ticket two men +immediately afterwards took tickets to the same place. The place where +he was going was that part of Kerry where the Invincibles had formerly +assassinated Arthur Mountjoy. + +The two men who followed him--who took their tickets for the same +place--who got into the same carriage with him--were two members of +that same fraternity. It is well known that he who joins that body and +afterwards leaves it, or disobeys its order, or is supposed to betray +its secrets, incurs the penalty of death. + +On the unexpected arrival of Lord Harry at this hotel, there had been +hurriedly called together a meeting of those members then in Dublin. It +was resolved that the traitor must be removed. Lots were cast, and the +lot fell upon one who remembered past acts of kindness done by Lord +Harry to his own people. He would fain have been spared this business, +but the rules of the society are imperative. He must obey. + +It is the practice of the society when a murder has been resolved upon +to appoint a second man, whose duty it is to accompany the murderer and +to see that he executes his task. + +In the afternoon, about an hour before sunset, the train arrived at the +station where Lord Harry was to get down. The station-master recognised +him, and touched his hat. Then he saw the two other men got down after +him, and he turned pale. + +"I will leave my portmanteau," said Lord Harry, "in the cloak-room. It +will be called for." + +Afterwards the station-master remembered those words. Lord Harry did +not say "I will call for it," but "It will be called for." Ominous +words. + +The weather was cold; a drizzling rain fell; the day was drawing in. +Lord Harry left the station, and started with quick step along the +road, which stretched across a dreary desolate piece of country. + +The two men walked after him. One presently quickened his step, leaving +the second man twenty yards behind. + +The station-master looked after them till he could see them no longer. +Then he shook his head and returned to his office. + +Lord Harry walking along the road knew that the two men were following +him. Presently he became aware that one of them was quickening his +pace. + +He walked on. Perhaps his cheeks paled and his lips were set close, +because he knew that he was walking to his death. + +The steps behind him approached faster--faster. Lord Harry never even +turned his head. The man was close behind him. The man was beside him. + +"Mickey O'Flynn it is," said Lord Harry. + +"'Tis a ---- traitor, you are," said the man. + +"Your friends the Invincibles told you that, Mickey. Why, do you think +I don't know, man, what are you here for? Well?" he stopped. "I am +unarmed. You have got a revolver in your hand--the hand behind your +back. What are you stopping for?" + +"I cannot," said the man. + +"You must, Mickey O'Flynn--you must; or it's murdered you'll be +yourself," said Lord Harry, coolly. "Why, man, 'tis but to lift your +hand. And then you'll be a murderer for life. I am another--we shall +both be murderers then. Why don't you fire, man." + +"By ---- I cannot!" said Mickey. He held the revolver behind him, but +he did not lift his arm. His eyes started: his mouth was open; the +horror of the murderer was upon him before the murder was committed. +Then he started. "Look!" he cried. "Look behind you, my lord!" + +Lord Harry turned. The second man was upon him. He bent forward and +peered in his face. + +"Arthur Mountjoy's murderer!" he cried, and sprang at his throat. + +One, two, three shots rang out in the evening air. Those who heard them +in the roadside cabin, at the railway-station on the road, shuddered. +They knew the meaning of those shots. One more murder to load the soul +of Ireland. + +But Lord Harry lay dead in the middle of the road. + +The second man got up and felt at his throat. + +"Faith!" he said, "I thought I was murdered outright. Come, Mick, let +us drag him to the roadside." + +They did so, and then with bent heads and slouched hats, they made +their way across country to another station where they would not be +recognised as the two who had followed Lord Harry down the road. + +Two mounted men of the Constabulary rode along an hour later and found +the body lying where it had been left. + +They searched the pockets. They found a purse with a few sovereigns; +the portrait of a lady---the murdered man's wife--a sealed envelope +addressed to Hugh Mountjoy, Esq, care of his London hotel; and a +card-case: nothing of any importance. + +"It is Lord Harry Norland," said one. "The wild lord--he has met his +end at last." + +The letter to Iris was brief. It said: + +"Farewell! I am going to meet the death of one who is called a Traitor +to the Cause. I am the Traitor of a Cause far higher. May the end that +is already plotted for me be accepted as an atonement! Forgive me, +Iris! Think of me as kindly as you can. But I charge you--it is my +latest word--mourn not for one who has done his best to poison your +life and to ruin your soul." + +In the other letter he said: + +"I know the affection you have always entertained for Iris. She will +tell you what she pleases about the past. If she tells you nothing +about her late husband, think the worst and you will not be wrong. +Remember that whatever she has done was done for me and at my +instigation. She ought to have married you instead of me. + +"I am in the presence of Death. The men who are going to kill me are +under this very roof. They will kill me, perhaps to-night. Perhaps they +will wait for a quieter and a safer place. But they will kill me. + +"In the presence of Death, I rise superior to the pitiful jealousy with +which I have always regarded you. I now despise it. I ask your pardon +for it. Help Iris to forget the action of her life of which she has +most reason to be ashamed. Show that you forgive me--when you have +forgiven her--and when you have helped her in the warmth and strength +of your love to drive me out of your thoughts for ever. + +"H. N." + + +EPILOGUE + +IT is two years after the murder of Lord Harry Norland, the last event +connected with this history. + +Iris, when she accepted Hugh Mountjoy's offer of his Scotch villa, went +there resolved to hide herself from the world. Too many people, she +thought, knew her history, and what she had done. It was not likely +that the Directors of the Insurance Company would all hold their +tongues about a scandal so very unusual. Even if they did not charge +her with complicity, as they could, they would certainly tell the +story--all the more readily since Lord Harry's murder--of the +conspiracy and its success. She could never again, she told herself, be +seen in the world. + +She was accompanied by her friend and maid--the woman whose fidelity to +her had been so abundantly proved--and by Mrs. Vimpany, who acted as +housekeeper. + +After a decent interval, Hugh Mountjoy joined her. She was now a widow. +She understood very well what he wished to say, and she anticipated +him. She informed him that nothing would ever induce her to become the +wife of any other man after her degradation. Hugh received this +intimation without a remark. He remained in the neighbourhood, however, +calling upon her frequently and offering no word of love. But he became +necessary to her. The frequent visits became daily; the afternoon +visits were paid in the morning: the visitor stayed all day. When the +time came for Iris to yield, and he left the house no more, there +seemed to be no change. But still they continued their retired life, +and now I do not think they will ever change it again. + +Their villa was situated on the north shore of the Solway Firth, close +to the outfall of the Annan River, but on the west bank, opposite to +the little town of Annan. At the back was a large garden, the front +looked out upon the stretch of sand at low tide and the water at high +tide. The house was provided with a good library. Iris attended to her +garden, walked on the sands, read, or worked. They were a quiet +household. Husband and wife talked little. They walked about in the +garden, his arm about her waist, or hand in hand. The past, if not +forgotten, was ceasing to trouble them; it seemed a dreadful, terrible +dream. It left its mark in a gentle melancholy which had never belonged +to Iris in the old days. + +And then happened the last event which the chronicler of this history +has to relate. + +It began in the morning with a letter. + +Mrs. Vimpany received it. She knew the handwriting, started, and hid it +quickly in her bosom. As soon as she could get away to her own room she +opened and read it. + +"Good and Tender Creature,--I ascertained, a good while ago, thinking +that probably I might have to make this kind of application to you, +where you were living and with whom. It was not difficult; I only had +to connect you with Mr. Hugh Mountjoy and to find out where he lived. I +congratulate you on being so well able to take care of yourself. You +are probably settled for life in a comfortable home. I feel as happy +about it as if I had myself contributed to thus satisfactory result. + +"I have no intention of making myself more disagreeable than I am +obliged to do. Necessity, however, knows no law. You will understand me +when I tell you that I have spent all my money. I do not regret the +manner in which the money has been spent, but the fact that it has all +gone. This it is which cuts me to the heart. + +"I have also discovered that the late lamented Lord Harry, whose death +I myself have the greatest reasons to deplore, played me a scurvy trick +in regard to certain sums of money. The amount for which he was insured +was not less than 15,000 pounds. The amount as he stated it to me was +only 4,000 pounds. In return for certain services rendered at a +particular juncture I was to receive the half of the insurance money. I +only received 2,000 pounds, consequently there is still due to me the +sum of 5,500 pounds. This is a large lump of money. But Mr. Mountjoy +is, I believe, a wealthy man. He will, doubtless, see the necessity of +paying this money to me without further question or delay. + +"You will, therefore, seek his presence--he is now, I hear, at home. +You may read to him any part of this letter that you please, and you +will let him know that I am in earnest. A man with empty pockets cannot +choose but be in earnest. + +"He may very possibly object. + +"Very good. In that case you will tell him that a fraud has been +committed in connection with which I am prepared to make a full +confession. I consented, on the death of my patient, and at the earnest +entreaty of Lord Harry Norland, to represent the dead man as his +lordship. I then went away, resolving to have nothing more to do with +the further villainy which I believe was carried on to the obtaining of +the whole amount for which he was insured. + +"The murder of Lord Harry immediately afterwards caused the Company to +drop their intended prosecution. I shall reveal to them the present +residence of his widow, and shall place my evidence at their +disposition. Whatever happens I shall make the facts of the case +public. This done, nothing can hurt me; while, whether the Public +Prosecutor intervenes or not, neither Mr. Hugh Mountjoy nor his wife +can ever show face to the world again. + +"Tell Mr. Mountjoy, I say, whatever you please, except that I am +joking. You must not tell him that. I shall call to-morrow morning, and +shall expect to find the business as good as done. + +"A. V." + + +Mrs. Vimpany dropped the letter in dismay. Her husband had vanished out +of her life for more than two years. She hoped that she was effectually +hidden; she hoped that he had gone away to some far-off country where +he would never more return. Alas! This world of ours has no far-off +country left, and, even if the wicked man turneth away from his +wickedness so far as to go to the Rocky Mountains, an express train and +a swift boat will bring him back to his wickedness whenever he desires +a little more enjoyment and the society of his old friends. + +Mr. Vimpany was back again. What should she do? What would Iris do? +What would Mr. Mountjoy do? + +She read the letter again. + +Two things were obvious: first, that he had no clue of the restitution; +and, next, that he had no idea of the evidence against him for the +murder of the Dane. She resolved to communicate the latter fact only. +She was braver now than she had been formerly. She saw more clearly +that the way of the wicked man is not always so easy for him. If he +knew that his crime could be brought home to him; that he would +certainly be charged with murder if he dared to show himself, or if he +asked for money, he would desist. Before such a danger the most +hardened villain would shrink. + +She also understood that it was desirable to hide from him the nature +of the evidence and the name of the only witness against him. She would +calmly tell him what would happen, and bid him begone, or take the +consequences. + +Yet even if he were driven off he would return. She would live +henceforth in continual apprehension of his return. Her tranquillity +was gone. + +Heavens! That a man should have such power over the lives of others! + +She passed the most wretched day of her whole life. She saw in +anticipation the happiness of that household broken up. She pictured +his coming, but she could not picture his departure. For she had never +seen him baffled and defeated. + +He would come in, big, burly, with his farmer-like manner confident, +bullying, masterful. He would ask her what she had done; he would swear +at her when he learned that she had done nothing; he would throw +himself into the most comfortable chair, stretch out his legs, and +order her to go and fetch Mr. Mountjoy. Would she be subdued by him as +of old? Would she find the courage to stand up to him? For the sake of +Iris--yes. For the sake of the man who had been so kind to her--yes. + +In the evening, the two women--Mrs. Vimpany and Fanny--were seated in +the housekeeper's room. Both had work in their laps: neither was doing +any work. The autumnal day had been boisterous; the wind was getting +higher. + +"What are you thinking of?" asked Fanny. + +"I was thinking of my husband. If he were to come back, Fanny--if he +were to threaten--" + +"You would loose my tongue--you would let me speak?" + +"Yes; for her sake. I would have shielded him once---if I could. But +not now. I know, at last, that there is no single good thing left in +him." + +"You have heard from him. I saw the letter this morning, in the box. I +knew the handwriting. I have been waiting for you to speak." + +"Hush! Yes, Fanny; I have heard from him. He wants money. He will come +here to-morrow morning, and will threaten Mr. Mountjoy. Keep your +mistress in her own room. Persuade her to lie in bed--anything." + +"He does not know what I have seen. Charge him with the murder of the +Dane. Tell him," said Fanny, her lips stiffening, "that if he dares to +come again--if he does not go away--he shall be arrested for murder. I +will keep silence no longer!" + +"I will--I am resolved! Oh! who will rid us of this monster?" + +Outside, the gale rose higher--higher still. They heard it howling, +grinding branches together; they heard the roaring and the rushing of +the waters as the rising tide was driven over the shallow sands, like a +mountain reservoir at loose among the valleys below. + +In the midst of the tempest there came a sudden lull. Wind and water +alike seemed hushed. And out of the lull, as if in answer to the +woman's question, there came a loud cry--the shriek of a man in deadly +peril. + +The two women caught each other by the hand and rushed to the window. +They threw it open; the tempest began again; a fresh gust drove them +back; the waters roared: the wind howled; they heard the voice no more. +They closed the window and put up the shutters. + +It was long past midnight when they dared to go to bed. One of them lay +awake the whole night long. In the roaring tempest she had seen an omen +of the wrath of Heaven about to fall once more upon her mistress. + +She was wrong. The wrath of Heaven fell upon one far more guilty. + +In the morning, with the ebbing tide, a dead body was found lashed to +the posts of one of the standing nets in the Solway. It was recognised +by Hugh, who went out to look at it, and found it the body of Vimpany. + +Whether he was on his way back to Annan, or whether he intended to call +at the villa that evening instead of next morning, no one can tell. His +wife shed tears, but they were tears of relief. The man was buried as a +stranger. Hugh kept his counsel. Mrs. Vimpany put the letter in the +fire. Neither of them thought it wise to disturb the mind of Iris by +any mention of the man. Some days later, however, Mrs. Vimpany came +downstairs in a widow's cap. + +To Iris's look of interrogation she replied calmly, "Yes, I heard the +other day. He is dead. Is it not better--even for him, perhaps--that he +should be dead? He can do no more wickedness; he can bring misery into +no more households. He is dead." + +Iris made no reply. Better--better far--that he was dead. But how she +had been delivered from the man, to what new dangers she had been +exposed, she knew not, and will never know. + +She has one secret--and only one--which she keeps from her husband. In +her desk she preserves a lock of Lord Harry's hair. Why? I know not. +Blind Love doth never wholly die. + + + +THE END + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Blind Love, by Wilkie Collins + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLIND LOVE *** + +***** This file should be named 7890.txt or 7890.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/7/8/9/7890/ + +Produced by James Rusk. HTML version by Al Haines. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/7890.zip b/7890.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3a78bb1 --- /dev/null +++ b/7890.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8db36be --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #7890 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7890) diff --git a/old/blind10.txt b/old/blind10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..066b1a3 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/blind10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,15276 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Blind Love, by Wilkie Collins +#30 in our series by Wilkie Collins + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Blind Love + +Author: Wilkie Collins + +Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7890] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on May 31, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLIND LOVE *** + + + + +Produced by James Rusk + + + + +Blind Love + +by Wilkie Collins (completed by Walter Besant) + + +PREFACE + +IN the month of August 1889, and in the middle of the seaside holiday, +a message came to me from Wilkie Collins, then, though we hoped +otherwise, on his death-bed. + +It was conveyed to me by Mr. A. P. Watt. He told me that his son had +just come from Wilkie Collins: that they had been speaking of his +novel, "Blind Love," then running in the _Illustrated London News_: +that the novel was, unfortunately, unfinished: that he himself could +not possibly finish it: and that he would be very glad, if I would +finish it if I could find the time. And that if I could undertake this +work he would send me his notes of the remainder. Wilkie Collins added +these words: "If he has the time I think he will do it: we are both old +hands at this work, and understand it, and he knows that I would do the +same for him if he were in my place." + +Under the circumstances of the case, it was impossible to decline this +request. I wrote to say that time should be made, and the notes were +forwarded to me at Robin Hood's Bay. I began by reading carefully and +twice over, so as to get a grip of the story and the novelist's +intention, the part that had already appeared, and the proofs so far as +the author had gone. I then turned to the notes. I found that these +were not merely notes such as I expected--simple indications of the +plot and the development of events, but an actual detailed scenario, in +which every incident, however trivial, was carefully laid down: there +were also fragments of dialogue inserted at those places where dialogue +was wanted to emphasise the situation and make it real. I was much +struck with the writer's perception of the vast importance of dialogue +in making the reader seize the scene. Description requires attention: +dialogue rivets attention. + +It is not an easy task, nor is it pleasant, to carry on another man's +work: but the possession of this scenario lightened the work +enormously. I have been careful to adhere faithfully and exactly to the +plot, scene by scene, down to the smallest detail as it was laid down +by the author in this book. I have altered nothing. I have preserved +and incorporated every fragment of dialogue. I have used the very +language wherever that was written so carefully as to show that it was +meant to be used. I think that there is only one trivial detail where I +had to choose because it was not clear from the notes what the author +had intended. The plot of the novel, every scene, every situation, from +beginning to end, is the work of Wilkie Collins. The actual writing is +entirely his up to a certain point: from that point to the end it is +partly his, but mainly mine. Where his writing ends and mine begins, I +need not point out. The practised critic will, no doubt, at once lay +his finger on the spot. + +I have therefore carried out the author's wishes to the best of my +ability. I would that he were living still, if only to regret that he +had not been allowed to finish his last work with his own hand! + +WALTER BESANT. + + +BLIND LOVE + +THE PROLOGUE + +I + +SOON after sunrise, on a cloudy morning in the year 1881, a special +messenger disturbed the repose of Dennis Howmore, at his place of +residence in the pleasant Irish town of Ardoon. + +Well acquainted apparently with the way upstairs, the man thumped on a +bed-room door, and shouted his message through it: "The master wants +you, and mind you don't keep him waiting." + +The person sending this peremptory message was Sir Giles Mountjoy of +Ardoon, knight and banker. The person receiving the message was Sir +Giles's head clerk. As a matter of course, Dennis Howmore dressed +himself at full speed, and hastened to his employer's private house on +the outskirts of the town. + +He found Sir Giles in an irritable and anxious state of mind. A letter +lay open on the banker's bed, his night-cap was crumpled crookedly on +his head, he was in too great a hurry to remember the claims of +politeness, when the clerk said "Good morning." + +"Dennis, I have got something for you to do. It must be kept a secret, +and it allows of no delay." + +"Is it anything connected with business, sir?" + +The banker lost his temper. "How can you be such an infernal fool as to +suppose that anything connected with business could happen at this time +in the morning? Do you know the first milestone on the road to Garvan?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very well. Go to the milestone, and take care that nobody sees you +when you get there. Look at the back of the stone. If you discover an +Object which appears to have been left in that situation on the ground, +bring it to me; and don't forget that the most impatient man in all +Ireland is waiting for you." + +Not a word of explanation followed these extraordinary instructions. + +The head clerk set forth on his errand, with his mind dwelling on the +national tendencies to conspiracy and assassination. His employer was +not a popular person. Sir Giles had paid rent when he owed it; and, +worse still, was disposed to remember in a friendly spirit what England +had done for Ireland, in the course of the last fifty years. If +anything appeared to justify distrust of the mysterious Object of which +he was in search, Dennis resolved to be vigilantly on the look-out for +a gun-barrel, whenever he passed a hedge on his return journey to the +town. + +Arrived at the milestone, he discovered on the ground behind it one +Object only--a fragment of a broken tea-cup. + +Naturally enough, Dennis hesitated. It seemed to be impossible that the +earnest and careful instructions which he had received could relate to +such a trifle as this. At the same time, he was acting under orders +which were as positive as tone, manner, and language could make them. +Passive obedience appeared to be the one safe course to take--at the +risk of a reception, irritating to any man's self-respect, when he +returned to his employer with a broken teacup in his hand. + +The event entirely failed to justify his misgivings. There could be no +doubt that Sir Giles attached serious importance to the contemptible +discovery made at the milestone. After having examined and re-examined +the fragment, he announced his intention of sending the clerk on a +second errand--still without troubling himself to explain what his +incomprehensible instructions meant. + +"If I am not mistaken," he began, "the Reading Rooms, in our town, open +as early as nine. Very well. Go to the Rooms this morning, on the +stroke of the clock." He stopped, and consulted the letter which lay +open on his bed. "Ask the librarian," he continued, "for the third +volume of Gibbon's 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.' Open the +book at pages seventy-eight and seventy-nine. If you find a piece of +paper between those two leaves, take possession of it when nobody is +looking at you, and bring it to me. That's all, Dennis. And bear in +mind that I shall not recover the use of my patience till I see you +again." + +On ordinary occasions, the head clerk was not a man accustomed to +insist on what was due to his dignity. At the same time he was a +sensible human being, conscious of the consideration to which his +responsible place in the office entitled him. Sir Giles's irritating +reserve, not even excused by a word of apology, reached the limits of +his endurance. He respectfully protested. + +"I regret to find, sir," he said, "that I have lost my place in my +employer's estimation. The man to whom you confide the superintendence +of your clerks and the transaction of your business has, I venture to +think, some claim (under the present circumstances) to be trusted." + +The banker was now offended on his side. + +"I readily admit your claim," he answered, "when you are sitting at +your desk in my office. But, even in these days of strikes, +co-operations, and bank holidays, an employer has one privilege +left--he has not ceased to be a Man, and he has not forfeited a man's +right to keep his own secrets. I fail to see anything in my conduct +which has given you just reason to complain." + +Dennis, rebuked, made his bow in silence, and withdrew. + +Did these acts of humility mean that he submitted? They meant exactly +the contrary. He had made up his mind that Sir Giles Mountjoy's motives +should, sooner or later, cease to be mysteries to Sir Giles Mountjoy's +clerk. + +II + +CAREFULLY following his instructions, he consulted the third volume of +Gibbon's great History, and found, between the seventy-eighth and +seventy-ninth pages, something remarkable this time. + +It was a sheet of delicately-made paper, pierced with a number of +little holes, infinitely varied in size, and cut with the smoothest +precision. Having secured this curious object, while the librarian's +back was turned, Dennis Howmore reflected. + +A page of paper, unintelligibly perforated for some purpose unknown, +was in itself a suspicious thing. And what did suspicion suggest to the +inquiring mind in South-Western Ireland, before the suppression of the +Land League? Unquestionably---Police! + +On the way back to his employer, the banker's clerk paid a visit to an +old friend--a journalist by profession, and a man of varied learning +and experience as well. Invited to inspect the remarkable morsel of +paper, and to discover the object with which the perforations had been +made, the authority consulted proved to be worthy of the trust reposed +in him. Dennis left the newspaper office an enlightened man--with +information at the disposal of Sir Giles, and with a sense of relief +which expressed itself irreverently in these words: "Now I have got +him!" + +The bewildered banker looked backwards and forwards from the paper to +the clerk, and from the clerk to the paper. "I don't understand it," he +said. "Do you?" + +Still preserving the appearance of humility, Dennis asked leave to +venture on a guess. The perforated paper looked, as he thought, like a +Puzzle. "If we wait for a day or two," he suggested, "the Key to it may +possibly reach us." + +On the next day, nothing happened. On the day after, a second letter +made another audacious demand on the fast failing patience of Sir Giles +Mountjoy. + +Even the envelope proved to be a Puzzle on this occasion; the postmark +was "Ardoon." In other words, the writer had used the postman as a +messenger, while he or his accomplice was actually in the town, posting +the letter within half-a-minute's walk of the bank! The contents +presented an impenetrable mystery, the writing looked worthy of a +madman. Sentences appeared in the wildest state of confusion, and words +were so mutilated as to be unintelligible. This time the force of +circumstances was more than Sir Giles could resist. He took the clerk +into his confidence at last. + +"Let us begin at the beginning," he said. "There is the letter you saw +on my bed, when I first sent for you. I found it waiting on my table +when I woke; and I don't know who put it there. Read it." + +Dennis read as follows: + +"Sir Giles Mountjoy,--I have a disclosure to make, in which one of the +members of your family is seriously interested. Before I can venture to +explain myself, I must be assured that I can trust to your good faith. +As a test of this, I require you to fulfil the two conditions that +follow--and to do it without the slightest loss of time. I dare not +trust you yet with my address, or my signature. Any act of +carelessness, on my part, might end fatally for the true friend who +writes these lines. If you neglect this warning, you will regret it to +the end of your life." + +To the conditions on which the letter insisted there is no need to +allude. They had been complied with when the discoveries were made at +the back of the milestone, and between the pages of Gibson's history. +Sir Giles had already arrived at the conclusion that a conspiracy was +in progress to assassinate him, and perhaps to rob the bank. The wiser +head clerk pointed to the perforated paper and the incomprehensible +writing received that morning. "If we can find out what these mean," he +said, "you may be better able, sir, to form a correct opinion." + +"And who is to do that?" the banker asked. + +"I can but try, sir," was the modest reply, "if you see no objection to +my making the attempt." + +Sir Giles approved of the proposed experiment, silently and +satirically, by a bend of his head. + +Too discreet a man to make a suspiciously ready use of the information +which he had privately obtained, Dennis took care that his first +attempt should not be successful. After modestly asking permission to +try again, he ventured on the second occasion to arrive at a happy +discovery. Lifting the perforated paper, he placed it delicately over +the page which contained the unintelligible writing. Words and +sentences now appeared (through the holes in the paper) in their right +spelling and arrangement, and addressed Sir Giles in these terms: + +"I beg to thank you, sir, for complying with my conditions. You have +satisfied me of your good faith. At the same time, it is possible that +you may hesitate to trust a man who is not yet able to admit you to his +confidence. The perilous position in which I stand obliges me to ask +for two or three days more of delay, before I can safely make an +appointment with you. Pray be patient--and on no account apply for +advice or protection to the police." + +"Those last words," Sir Giles declared, "are conclusive! The sooner I +am under the care of the law the better. Take my card to the +police-office." + +"May I say a word first, sir?" + +"Do you mean that you don't agree with me?" + +"I mean that." + +"You were always an obstinate man Dennis; and it grows on you as you +get older. Never mind! Let's have it out. Who do _you_ say is the +person pointed at in these rascally letters?" + +The head clerk took up the first letter of the two and pointed to the +opening sentence: "Sir Giles Mountjoy, I have a disclosure to make in +which one of the members of your family is seriously interested." +Dennis emphatically repeated the words: "one of the members of your +family." His employer regarded him with a broad stare of astonishment. + +"One of the members of my family?" Sir Giles repeated, on his side. +"Why, man alive, what are you thinking of? I'm an old bachelor, and I +haven't got a family." + +"There is your brother, sir." + +"My brother is in France--out of the way of the wretches who are +threatening me. I wish I was with him!" + +"There are your brother's two sons, Sir Giles." + +"Well? And what is there to be afraid of? My nephew, Hugh, is in +London--and, mind! not on a political errand. I hope, before long, to +hear that he is going to be married--if the strangest and nicest girl +in England will have him. What's wrong now?" + +Dennis explained. "I only wished to say, sir, that I was thinking of +your other nephew." + +Sir Giles laughed. "Arthur in danger!" he exclaimed. "As harmless a +young man as ever lived. The worst one can say of him is that he is +throwing away his money--farming in Kerry." + +"Excuse me, Sir Giles; there's not much chance of his throwing away his +money, where he is now. Nobody will venture to take his money. I met +with one of Mr. Arthur's neighbours at the market yesterday. Your +nephew is boycotted." + +"So much the better," the obstinate banker declared. "He will be cured +of his craze for farming; and he will come back to the place I am +keeping for him in the office." + +"God grant it!" the clerk said fervently. + +For the moment, Sir Giles was staggered. "Have you heard something that +you haven't told me yet?" he asked. + +"No, sir. I am only bearing in mind something which--with all +respect--I think you have forgotten. The last tenant on that bit of +land in Kerry refused to pay his rent. Mr. Arthur has taken what they +call an evicted farm. It's my firm belief," said the head clerk, rising +and speaking earnestly, "that the person who has addressed those +letters to you knows Mr. Arthur, and knows he is in danger--and is +trying to save your nephew (by means of your influence), at the risk of +his own life." + +Sir Giles shook his head. "I call that a far-fetched interpretation, +Dennis. If what you say is true, why didn't the writer of those +anonymous letters address himself to Arthur, instead of to me?" + +"I gave it as my opinion just now, sir, that the writer of the letter +knew Mr. Arthur." + +"So you did. And what of that?" + +Dennis stood to his guns. + +"Anybody who is acquainted with Mr. Arthur," he persisted, "knows that +(with all sorts of good qualities) the young gentleman is headstrong +and rash. If a friend told him he was in danger on the farm, that would +be enough of itself to make him stop where he is, and brave it out. +Whereas you, sir, are known to be cautious and careful, and farseeing +and discreet." He might have added: And cowardly and obstinate, and +narrow-minded and inflated by stupid self-esteem. But respect for his +employer had blindfolded the clerk's observation for many a long year +past. If one man may be born with the heart of a lion, another man may +be born with the mind of a mule. Dennis's master was one of the other +men. + +"Very well put," Sir Giles answered indulgently. "Time will show, if +such an entirely unimportant person as my nephew Arthur is likely to be +assassinated. That allusion to one of the members of my family is a +mere equivocation, designed to throw me off my guard. Rank, money, +social influence, unswerving principles, mark ME out as a public +character. Go to the police-office, and let the best man who happens to +be off duty come here directly." + +Good Dennis Howmore approached the door very unwillingly. It was +opened, from the outer side, before he had reached that end of the +room. One of the bank porters announced a visitor. + +"Miss Henley wishes to know, sir, if you can see her." + +Sir Giles looked agreeably surprised. He rose with alacrity to receive +the lady. + +III + +WHEN Iris Henley dies there will, in all probability, be friends left +who remember her and talk of her--and there may be strangers present at +the time (women for the most part), whose curiosity will put questions +relating to her personal appearance. No replies will reward them with +trustworthy information. Miss Henley's chief claim to admiration lay in +a remarkable mobility of expression, which reflected every change of +feeling peculiar to the nature of a sweet and sensitive woman. For this +reason, probably, no descriptions of her will agree with each other. No +existing likenesses will represent her. The one portrait that was +painted of Iris is only recognisable by partial friends of the artist. +In and out of London, photographic likenesses were taken of her. They +have the honour of resembling the portraits of Shakespeare in this +respect--compared with one another, it is not possible to discover that +they present the same person. As for the evidence offered by the loving +memory of her friends, it is sure to be contradictory in the last +degree. She had a charming face, a commonplace face, an intelligent +face--a poor complexion, a delicate complexion, no complexion at +all--eyes that were expressive of a hot temper, of a bright intellect, +of a firm character, of an affectionate disposition, of a truthful +nature, of hysterical sensibility, of inveterate obstinacy--a figure +too short; no, just the right height; no, neither one thing nor the +other; elegant, if you like--dress shabby: oh, surely not; dress quiet +and simple; no, something more than that; ostentatiously quiet, +theatrically simple, worn with the object of looking unlike other +people. In one last word, was this mass of contradictions generally +popular, in the time when it was a living creature? Yes--among the men. +No--not invariably. The man of all others who ought to have been +fondest of her was the man who behaved cruelly to Iris--her own father. +And, when the poor creature married (if she did marry), how many of you +attended the wedding? Not one of us! And when she died, how many of you +were sorry for her? All of us! What? no difference of opinion in that +one particular? On the contrary, perfect concord, thank God. + +Let the years roll back, and let Iris speak for herself, at the +memorable time when she was in the prime of her life, and when a stormy +career was before her. + +IV + +BEING Miss Henley's godfather, Sir Giles was a privileged person. He +laid his hairy hands on her shoulders, and kissed her on either cheek. +After that prefatory act of endearment, he made his inquiries. What +extraordinary combination of events had led Iris to leave London, and +had brought her to visit him in his banking-house at Ardoon? + +"I wanted to get away from home," she answered; "and having nobody to +go to but my godfather, I thought I should like to see You." + +"Alone!" cried Sir Giles. + +"No--with my maid to keep me company." + +"Only your maid, Iris? Surely you have acquaintances among young ladies +like yourself?" + +"Acquaintances--yes. No friends." + +"Does your father approve of what you have done?" + +"Will you grant me a favour, godpapa?" + +"Yes--if I can." + +"Don't insist on my answering your last question." + +The faint colour that had risen in her face, when she entered the room, +left it. At the same time, the expression of her mouth altered. The +lips closed firmly; revealing that strongest of all resolutions which +is founded on a keen sense of wrong. She looked older than her age: +what she might be ten years hence, she was now. Sir Giles understood +her. He got up, and took a turn in the room. An old habit, of which he +had cured himself with infinite difficulty when he was made a Knight, +showed itself again. He put his hands in his pockets. + +"You and your father have had another quarrel," he said, stopping +opposite Iris. + +"I don't deny it," she replied. + +"Who is to blame?" + +She smiled bitterly. "The woman is always to blame." + +"Did your father tell you that?" + +"My father reminded me that I was twenty-one years old, last +birthday--and told me that I could do as I liked. I understood him, and +I left the house." + +"You will go back again, I suppose?" + +"I don't know." + +Sir Giles began pacing the room once more. His rugged face, telling its +story of disaster and struggle in early life, showed signs of +disappointment and distress. + +"Hugh promised to write to me," he said, "and he has not written. I +know what that means; I know what you have done to offend your father. +My nephew has asked you to marry him for the second time. And for the +second time you have refused." + +Her face softened; its better and younger aspect revived. "Yes," she +said, sadly and submissively; "I have refused him again." + +Sir Giles lost his temper. "What the devil is your objection to Hugh?" +he burst out. + +"My father said the same thing to me," she replied, "almost in the same +words. I made him angry when I tried to give my reason. I don't want to +make you angry, too." + +He took no notice of this. "Isn't Hugh a good fellow?" he went on. +"Isn't he affectionate? and kindhearted? and honourable?--aye, and a +handsome man too, if you come to that." + +"Hugh is all that you say. I like him; I admire him; I owe to his +kindness some of the happiest days of my sad life, and I am +grateful--oh, with all my heart, I am grateful to Hugh!" + +"If that's true, Iris----" + +"Every word of it is true." + +"I say, if that's true--there's no excuse for you. I hate perversity in +a young woman! Why don't you marry him?" + +"Try to feel for me," she said gently; "I can't love him." + +Her tone said more to the banker than her words had expressed. The +secret sorrow of her life, which was known to her father, was known +also to Sir Giles. + +"Now we have come to it at last!" he said. "You can't love my nephew +Hugh. And you won't tell me the reason why, because your sweet temper +shrinks from making me angry. Shall I mention the reason for you, my +dear? I can do it in two words--Lord Harry." + +She made no reply; she showed no sign of feeling at what he had just +said. Her head sank a little; her hands clasped themselves on her lap; +the obstinate resignation which can submit to anything hardened her +face, stiffened her figure--and that was all. + +The banker was determined not to spare her. + +"It's easy to see," he resumed, "that you have not got over your +infatuation for that vagabond yet. Go where he may, into the vilest +places and among the lowest people, he carries your heart along with +him. I wonder you are not ashamed of such an attachment as that." + +He had stung her at last. She roused herself, and answered him. + +"Harry has led a wild life," she said; "he has committed serious +faults, and he may live to do worse than he has done yet. To what +degradation, bad company, and a bad bringing-up may yet lead him, I +leave his enemies to foresee. But I tell you this, he has redeeming +qualities which you, and people like you, are not good Christians +enough to discover. He has friends who can still appreciate him--your +nephew, Arthur Mountjoy, is one of them. Oh, I know it by Arthur's +letters to me! Blame Lord Harry as you may, I tell you he has the +capacity for repentance in him, and one day--when it is too late, I +dare say--he will show it. I can never be his wife. We are parted, +never in all likelihood to meet again. Well, he is the only man whom I +have ever loved; and he is the only man whom I ever shall love. If you +think this state of mind proves that I am as bad as he is, I won't +contradict you. Do we any of us know how bad we are----? Have you heard +of Harry lately?" + +The sudden transition, from an earnest and devoted defence of the man, +to an easy and familiar inquiry about him, startled Sir Giles. + +For the moment, he had nothing to say; Iris had made him think. She had +shown a capacity for mastering her strongest feelings, at the moment +when they threatened to overcome her, which is very rarely found in a +young woman. How to manage her was a problem for patient resolution to +solve. The banker's obstinacy, rather than his conviction, had +encouraged him to hold to the hope of Hugh's marriage, even after his +nephew had been refused for the second time. His headstrong goddaughter +had come to visit him of her own accord. She had not forgotten the days +of her childhood, when he had some influence over her--when she had +found him kinder to her than her father had ever been. Sir Giles saw +that he had taken the wrong tone with Iris. His anger had not alarmed +her; his opinion had not influenced her. In Hugh's interests, he +determined to try what consideration and indulgence would do towards +cultivating the growth of her regard for him. Finding that she had left +her maid and her luggage at the hotel, he hospitably insisted on their +removal to his own house. + +"While you are in Ardoon, Iris, you are my guest," he said. + +She pleased him by readily accepting the invitation--and then annoyed +him by asking again if he had heard anything of Lord Harry. + +He answered shortly and sharply: "I have heard nothing. What is _your_ +last news of him?" + +"News," she said, "which I sincerely hope is not true. An Irish paper +has been sent to me, which reports that he has joined the secret +society--nothing better than a society of assassins, I am afraid--which +is known by the name of the Invincibles." + +As she mentioned that formidable brotherhood, Dennis Howmore returned +from the police-office. He announced that a Sergeant was then waiting +to receive instructions from Sir Giles. + +V + +IRIS rose to go. Her godfather courteously stopped her. + +"Wait here," he said, "until I have spoken to the Sergeant, and I will +escort you to my house. My clerk will do what is necessary at the +hotel. You don't look quite satisfied. Is the arrangement that I have +proposed not agreeable to you?" + +Iris assured him that she gratefully acceded to the arrangement. At the +same time, she confessed to having been a little startled, on +discovering that he was in consultation with the police. "I remember +that we are in Ireland," she explained, "and I am foolish enough to +fear that you may be in some danger. May I hope that it is only a +trifle?" + +Only a trifle! Among ether deficient sensibilities in the strange +nature of Iris, Sir Giles had observed an imperfect appreciation of the +dignity of his social position. Here was a new proof of it! The +temptation to inspire sentiments of alarm--not unmingled with +admiration--in the mind of his insensible goddaughter, by exhibiting +himself as a public character threatened by a conspiracy, was more than +the banker's vanity could resist. Before he left the room, he +instructed Dennis to tell Miss Henley what had happened, and to let her +judge for herself whether he had been needlessly alarmed by, what she +was pleased to call, "a mere trifle." + +Dennis Howmore must have been more than mortal, if he could have +related his narrative of events without being influenced by his own +point of view. On the first occasion when he mentioned Arthur +Mountjoy's name, Iris showed a sudden interest in his strange story +which took him by surprise. + +"You know Mr. Arthur?" he said. + +"Knew him!" Iris repeated. "He was my playfellow when we were both +children. He is as dear to me as if he was my brother. Tell me at +once--is he really in danger?" + +Dennis honestly repeated what he had already said, on that subject, to +his master. Miss Henley, entirely agreeing with him, was eager to warn +Arthur of his position. There was no telegraphic communication with the +village which was near his farm. She could only write to him, and she +did write to him, by that day's post--having reasons of her own for +anxiety, which forbade her to show her letter to Dennis. Well aware of +the devoted friendship which united Lord Harry and Arthur Mountjoy--and +bearing in mind the newspaper report of the Irish lord's rash +association with the Invincibles--her fears now identified the noble +vagabond as the writer of the anonymous letters, which had so seriously +excited her godfather's doubts of his own safety. + +When Sir Giles returned, and took her with him to his house, he spoke +of his consultation with the Sergeant in terms which increased her +dread of what might happen in the future. She was a dull and silent +guest, during the interval that elapsed before it would be possible to +receive Arthur's reply. The day arrived--and the post brought no relief +to her anxieties. The next day passed without a letter. On the morning +of the fourth day, Sir Giles rose later than usual. His correspondence +was sent to him from the office, at breakfast-time. After opening one +of the letters, he dispatched a messenger in hot haste to the police. + +"Look at that," he said, handing the letter to Iris. "Does the assassin +take me for a fool?" + +She read the lines that follow: + +"Unforeseen events force me, Sir Giles, to run a serious risk. I must +speak to you, and it must not be by daylight. My one hope of safety is +in darkness. Meet me at the first milestone, on the road to Garvan, +when the moon sets at ten o'clock to-night. No need to mention your +name. The password is: _Fidelity."_ + +"Do you mean to go?" Iris asked. + +"Do I mean to be murdered!" Sir Giles broke out. "My dear child, do +pray try to think before you speak. The Sergeant will represent me, of +course." + +"And take the man prisoner?" Iris added. + +"Certainly!" + +With that startling reply, the banker hurried away to receive the +police in another room. Iris dropped into the nearest chair. The turn +that the affair had now taken filled her with unutterable dismay. + +Sir Giles came back, after no very long absence, composed and smiling. +The course of proceeding had been settled to his complete satisfaction. + +Dressed in private clothes, the Sergeant was to go to the milestone at +the appointed time, representing the banker in the darkness, and giving +the password. He was to be followed by two of his men who would wait in +concealment, within hearing of his whistle, if their services were +required. "I want to see the ruffian when he is safely handcuffed," Sir +Giles explained; "and I have arranged to wait for the police, to-night, +at my office." + +There was but one desperate way that Iris could now discern of saving +the man who had confided in her godfather's honour, and whose trust had +already been betrayed. Never had she loved the outlawed Irish lord--the +man whom she was forbidden, and rightly forbidden, to marry--as she +loved him at that moment. Let the risk be what it might, this resolute +woman had determined that the Sergeant should not be the only person +who arrived at the milestone, and gave the password. There was one +devoted friend to Lord Harry, whom she could always trust--and that +friend was herself. + +Sir Giles withdrew, to look after his business at the bank. She waited +until the clock had struck the servants' dinner hour, and then ascended +the stairs to her godfather's dressing-room. Opening his wardrobe, she +discovered in one part of it a large Spanish cloak, and, in another +part, a high-crowned felt hat which he wore on his country excursions. +In the dark, here was disguise enough for her purpose. + +As she left the dressing-room, a measure of precaution occurred to her, +which she put in action at once. Telling her maid that she had some +purchases to make in the town, she went out, and asked her way to +Garvan of the first respectable stranger whom she met in the street. +Her object was to walk as far as the first milestone, in daylight, so +as to be sure of finding it again by night. She had made herself +familiar with the different objects on the road, when she returned to +the banker's house. + +As the time for the arrest drew nearer, Sir Giles became too restless +to wait patiently at home. He went away to the police-office, eager to +hear if any new counter-conspiracy had occurred to the authorities. + +It was dark soon after eight o'clock, at that time of the year. At nine +the servants assembled at the supper-table. They were all downstairs +together, talking, and waiting for their meal. + +Feeling the necessity of arriving at the place of meeting, in time to +keep out of the Sergeant's way, Iris assumed her disguise as the clock +struck nine. She left the house without a living creature to notice +her, indoors or out. Clouds were gathering over the sky. The waning +moon was only to be seen at intervals, as she set forth on her way to +the milestone. + +VI + +THE wind rose a little, and the rifts in the clouds began to grow +broader as Iris gained the high road. + +For a while, the glimmer of the misty moonlight lit the way before her. +As well as she could guess, she had passed over more than half of the +distance between the town and the milestone before the sky darkened +again. Objects by the wayside grew shadowy and dim. A few drops of rain +began to fall. The milestone, as she knew--thanks to the discovery of +it made by daylight--was on the right-hand side of the road. But the +dull-grey colour of the stone was not easy to see in the dark. + +A doubt troubled her whether she might not have passed the milestone. +She stopped and looked at the sky. + +The threatening of rain had passed away: signs showed themselves which +seemed to promise another break in the clouds. She waited. Low and +faint, the sinking moonlight looked its last at the dull earth. In +front of her, there was nothing to be seen but the road. She looked +back--and discovered the milestone. + +A rough stone wall protected the land on either side of the road. +Nearly behind the milestone there was a gap in this fence, partially +closed by a hurdle. A half-ruined culvert, arching a ditch that had run +dry, formed a bridge leading from the road to the field. Had the field +been already chosen as a place of concealment by the police? Nothing +was to be seen but a footpath, and the dusky line of a plantation +beyond it. As she made these discoveries, the rain began to fall again; +the clouds gathered once more; the moonlight vanished. + +At the same moment an obstacle presented itself to her mind, which Iris +had thus far failed to foresee. + +Lord Harry might approach the milestone by three different ways: that +is to say--by the road from the town, or by the road from the open +country, or by way of the field and the culvert. How could she so place +herself as to be sure of warning him, before he fell into the hands of +the police? To watch the three means of approach in the obscurity of +the night, and at one and the same time, was impossible. + +A man in this position, guided by reason, would in all probability have +wasted precious time in trying to arrive at the right decision. A +woman, aided by love, conquered the difficulty that confronted her in a +moment. + +Iris decided on returning to the milestone, and on waiting there to be +discovered and taken prisoner by the police. Supposing Lord Harry to be +punctual to his appointment, he would hear voices and movements, as a +necessary consequence of the arrest, in time to make his escape. +Supposing him on the other hand to be late, the police would be on the +way back to the town with their prisoner: he would find no one at the +milestone, and would leave it again in safety. + +She was on the point of turning, to get back to the road, when +something on the dark surface of the field, which looked like a darker +shadow, became dimly visible. In another moment it seemed to be a +shadow that moved. She ran towards it. It looked like a man as she drew +nearer. The man stopped. + +"The password," he said, in tones cautiously lowered. + +"Fidelity," she answered in a whisper. + +It was too dark for a recognition of his features; but Iris knew him by +his tall stature--knew him by the accent in which he had asked for the +password. Erroneously judging of her, on his side, as a man, he drew +back again. Sir Giles Mountjoy was above the middle height; the +stranger in a cloak, who had whispered to him, was below it. "You are +not the person I expected to meet," he said. "Who are you?" + +Her faithful heart was longing to tell him the truth. The temptation to +reveal herself, and to make the sweet confession of her happiness at +having saved him, would have overpowered her discretion, but for a +sound that was audible on the road behind them. In the deep silence of +the time and place mistake was impossible. It was the sound of +footsteps. + +There was just time to whisper to him: "Sir Giles has betrayed you. +Save yourself." + +"Thank you, whoever you are!" + +With that reply, he suddenly and swiftly disappeared. Iris remembered +the culvert, and turned towards it. There was a hiding-place under the +arch, if she could only get down into the dry ditch in time. She was +feeling her way to the slope of it with her feet, when a heavy hand +seized her by the arm; and a resolute voice said: "You are my +prisoner." + +She was led back into the road. The man who had got her blew a whistle. +Two other men joined him. + +"Show a light," he said; "and let's see who the fellow is." + +The shade was slipped aside from a lantern: the light fell full on the +prisoner's face. Amazement petrified the two attendant policemen. The +pious Catholic Sergeant burst into speech: "Holy Mary! it's a woman!" + +Did the secret societies of Ireland enrol women? Was this a modern +Judith, expressing herself by anonymous letters, and bent on +assassinating a financial Holofernes who kept a bank? What account had +she to give of herself? How came she to be alone in a desolate field on +a rainy night? Instead of answering these questions, the inscrutable +stranger preferred a bold and brief request. "Take me to Sir +Giles"--was all she said to the police. + +The Sergeant had the handcuffs ready. After looking at the prisoner's +delicate wrists by the lantern-light, he put his fetters back in his +pocket. "A lady--and no doubt about it," he said to one of his +assistants. + +The two men waited, with a mischievous interest in seeing what he would +do next. The list of their pious officer's virtues included a +constitutional partiality for women, which exhibited the merciful side +of justice when a criminal wore a petticoat. "We will take you to Sir +Giles, Miss," he said--and offered his arm, instead of offering his +handcuffs. Iris understood him, and took his arm. + + +She was silent--unaccountably silent as the men thought--on the way to +the town. They heard her sigh: and, once, the sigh sounded more like a +sob; little did they suspect what was in that silent woman's mind at +the time. + +The one object which had absorbed the attention of Iris had been the +saving of Lord Harry. This accomplished, the free exercise of her +memory had now reminded her of Arthur Mountjoy. + +It was impossible to doubt that the object of the proposed meeting at +the milestone had been to take measures for the preservation of the +young man's life. A coward is always more or less cruel. The +proceedings (equally treacherous and merciless) by which Sir Giles had +provided for his own safety, had delayed--perhaps actually +prevented--the execution of Lord Harry's humane design. It was +possible, horribly possible, that a prompt employment of time might +have been necessary to the rescue of Arthur from impending death by +murder. In the agitation that overpowered her, Iris actually hurried +the police on their return to the town. + +Sir Giles had arranged to wait for news in his private room at the +office--and there he was, with Dennis Howmore in attendance to receive +visitors. + +The Sergeant went into the banker's room alone, to make his report. He +left the door ajar; Iris could hear what passed. + +"Have you got your prisoner?" Sir Giles began. + +"Yes, your honour." + +"Is the wretch securely handcuffed?" + +"I beg your pardon, sir, it isn't a man." + +"Nonsense, Sergeant; it can't be a boy." + +The Sergeant confessed that it was not a boy. "It's a woman," he said. + +"What!!!" + +"A woman," the patient officer repeated--"and a young one. She asked +for You." + +"Bring her in." + +Iris was not the sort of person who waits to be brought in. She walked +in, of her own accord. + +VII + +"GOOD Heavens!" cried Sir Giles. "Iris! With my cloak on!! With my hat +in her hand!!! Sergeant, there has been some dreadful mistake. This is +my god-daughter--Miss Henley." + +"We found her at the milestone, your honour. The young lady and nobody +else." + +Sir Giles appealed helplessly to his god-daughter. "What does this +mean?" Instead of answering, she looked at the Sergeant. The Sergeant, +conscious of responsibility, stood his ground and looked at Sir Giles. +His face confessed that the Irish sense of humour was tickled: but he +showed no intention of leaving the room. Sir Giles saw that Iris would +enter into no explanation in the man's presence. "You needn't wait any +longer," he said. + +"What am I to do, if you please, with the prisoner?" the Sergeant +inquired. + +Sir Giles waived that unnecessary question away with his hand. He was +trebly responsible--as knight, banker, and magistrate into the bargain. +"I will be answerable," he replied, "for producing Miss Henley, if +called upon. Good night." + +The Sergeant's sense of duty was satisfied. He made the military +salute. His gallantry added homage to the young lady under the form of +a bow. Then, and then only, he walked with dignity out of the room. + +"Now," Sir Giles resumed, "I presume I may expect to receive an +explanation. What does this impropriety mean? What were you doing at +the milestone?" + +"I was saving the person who made the appointment with you," Iris said; +"the poor fellow had no ill-will towards you--who had risked everything +to save your nephew's life. Oh, sir, you committed a terrible mistake +when you refused to trust that man!" + +Sir Giles had anticipated the appearance of fear, and the reality of +humble apologies. She had answered him indignantly, with a heightened +colour, and with tears in her eyes. His sense of his own social +importance was wounded to the quick. "Who is the man you are speaking +of?" he asked loftily. "And what is your excuse for having gone to the +milestone to save him--hidden under my cloak, disguised in my hat?" + +"Don't waste precious time in asking questions!" was the desperate +reply. "Undo the harm that you have done already. Your help--oh, I mean +what I say!--may yet preserve Arthur's life. Go to the farm, and save +him." + +Sir Giles's anger assumed a new form, it indulged in an elaborate +mockery of respect. He took his watch from his pocket, and consulted it +satirically. "Must I make an excuse?" he asked with a clumsy assumption +of humility. + +"No! you must go." + +"Permit me to inform you, Miss Henley, that the last train started more +than two hours since." + +"What does that matter? You are rich enough to hire a train." + +Sir Giles, the actor, could endure it no longer; he dropped the mask, +and revealed Sir Giles, the man. His clerk was summoned by a peremptory +ring of the bell. "Attend Miss Henley to the house," he said. "You may +come to your senses after a night's rest," he continued, turning +sternly to Iris. "I will receive your excuses in the morning." + + +In the morning, the breakfast was ready as usual at nine o'clock. Sir +Giles found himself alone at the table. + +He sent an order to one of the women-servants to knock at Miss Henley's +door. There was a long delay. The housekeeper presented herself in a +state of alarm; she had gone upstairs to make the necessary +investigation in her own person. Miss Henley was not in her room; the +maid was not in her room; the beds had not been slept in; the heavy +luggage was labelled--"To be called for from the hotel." And there was +an end of the evidence which the absent Iris had left behind her. + +Inquiries were made at the hotel. The young lady had called there, with +her maid, early on that morning. They had their travelling-bags with +them; and Miss Henley had left directions that the luggage was to be +placed under care of the landlord until her return. To what destination +she had betaken herself nobody knew. + +Sir Giles was too angry to remember what she had said to him on the +previous night, or he might have guessed at the motive which had led to +her departure. "Her father has done with her already," he said; "and I +have done with her now." The servants received orders not to admit Miss +Henley, if her audacity contemplated a return to her godfather's house. + +VIII + +ON the afternoon of the same day, Iris arrived at the village situated +in the near neighbourhood of Arthur Mountjoy's farm. + +The infection of political excitement (otherwise the hatred of England) +had spread even to this remote place. On the steps of his little +chapel, the priest, a peasant himself, was haranguing his brethren of +the soil. An Irishman who paid his landlord was a traitor to his +country; an Irishman who asserted his free birthright in the land that +he walked on was an enlightened patriot. Such was the new law which the +reverend gentleman expounded to his attentive audience. If his brethren +there would like him to tell them how they might apply the law, this +exemplary Christian would point to the faithless Irishman, Arthur +Mountjoy. "Buy not of him, sell not to him; avoid him if he approaches +you; starve him out of the place. I might say more, boys--you know what +I mean." + +To hear the latter part of this effort of oratory, without uttering a +word of protest, was a trial of endurance under which Iris trembled. +The secondary effect of the priest's address was to root the conviction +of Arthur's danger with tenfold tenacity in her mind. After what she +had just heard, even the slightest delay in securing his safety might +be productive of deplorable results. She astonished a barefooted boy, +on the outskirts of the crowd, by a gift of sixpence, and asked her way +to the farm. The little Irishman ran on before her, eager to show the +generous lady how useful he could be. In less than half an hour, Iris +and her maid were at the door of the farm-house. No such civilsed +inventions appeared as a knocker or a bell. The boy used his knuckles +instead--and ran away when he heard the lock of the door turned on the +inner side. He was afraid to be seen speaking to any living creature +who inhabited the "evicted farm." + +A decent old woman appeared, and inquired suspiciously "what the ladies +wanted." The accent in which she spoke was unmistakably English. When +Iris asked for Mr. Arthur Mountjoy the reply was: "Not at home." The +housekeeper inhospitably attempted to close the door. "Wait one +moment," Iris said. "Years have changed you; but there is something in +your face which is not quite strange to me. Are you Mrs. Lewson?" + +The woman admitted that this was her name. "But how is it that you are +a stranger to me?" she asked distrustfully. + +"If you have been long in Mr. Mountjoy's service," Iris replied, "you +may perhaps have heard him speak of Miss Henley?" + +Mrs. Lewson's face brightened in an instant; she threw the door wide +open with a glad cry of recognition. + +"Come in, Miss, come in! Who would have thought of seeing you in this +horrible place? Yes; I was the nurse who looked after you all +three--when you and Mr. Arthur and Mr. Hugh were playfellows together." +Her eyes rested longingly on her favourite of bygone days. The +sensitive sympathies of Iris interpreted that look. She prettily +touched her cheek, inviting the nurse to kiss her. At this act of +kindness the poor old woman broke down; she apologised quaintly for her +tears: "Think, Miss, how _I_ must remember that happy time--when _you_ +have not forgotten it." + +Shown into the parlour, the first object which the visitor noticed was +the letter that she had written to Arthur lying unopened on the table. + +"Then he is really out of the house?" she said with a feeling of +relief. + +He had been away from the farm for a week or more. Had he received a +warning from some other quarter? and had he wisely sought refuge in +flight? The amazement in the housekeeper's face, when she heard these +questions, pleaded for a word of explanation. Iris acknowledged without +reserve the motives which had suggested her journey, and asked eagerly +if she had been mistaken in assuming that Arthur was in danger of +assassination. + +Mrs. Lewson shook her head. Beyond all doubt the young master was in +danger. But Miss Iris ought to have known his nature better than to +suppose that he would beat a retreat, if all the land-leaguers in +Ireland threatened him together. No! It was his bold way to laugh at +danger. He had left his farm to visit a friend in the next county; and +it was shrewdly guessed that a young lady who was staying in the house +was the attraction which had kept him so long away. "Anyhow, he means +to come back to-morrow," Mrs. Lewson said. "I wish he would think +better of it, and make his escape to England while he has the chance. +If the savages in these parts must shoot somebody, I'm here--an old +woman that can't last much longer. Let them shoot me." + +Iris asked if Arthur's safety was assured in the next county, and in +the house of his friend. + +"I can't say, Miss; I have never been to the house. He is in danger if +he persists in coming back to the farm. There are chances of shooting +him all along his road home. Oh, yes; he knows it, poor dear, as well +as I do. But, there!--men like him are such perverse creatures. He +takes his rides just as usual. No; he won't listen to an old woman like +me; and, as for friends to advise him, the only one of them that has +darkened our doors is a scamp who had better have kept away. You may +have heard tell of him. The old Earl, his wicked father, used to be +called by a bad name. And the wild young lord is his father's true +son." + +"Not Lord Harry?" Iris exclaimed. + +The outbreak of agitation in her tone and manner was silently noticed +by her maid. The housekeeper did not attempt to conceal the impression +that had been produced upon her. "I hope you don't know such a vagabond +as that?" she said very seriously. "Perhaps you are thinking of his +brother--the eldest son--a respectable man, as I have been told?" + +Miss Henley passed over these questions without notice. Urged by the +interest in her lover, which was now more than ever an interest beyond +her control, she said: "Is Lord Harry in danger, on account of his +friend?" + +"He has nothing to fear from the wretches who infest our part of the +country," Mrs. Lewson replied. "Report says he's one of themselves. The +police--there's what his young lordship has to be afraid of, if all's +true that is said about him. Anyhow, when he paid his visit to my +master, he came secretly like a thief in the night. And I heard Mr. +Arthur, while they were together here in the parlour, loud in blaming +him for something that he had done. No more, Miss, of Lord Harry! I +have something particular to say to you. Suppose I promise to make you +comfortable--will you please wait here till to-morrow, and see Mr. +Arthur and speak to him? If there's a person living who can persuade +him to take better care of himself, I do believe it will be you." + +Iris readily consented to wait for Arthur Mountjoy's return. Left +together, while Mrs. Lewson was attending to her domestic duties, the +mistress noticed an appearance of pre-occupation in the maid's face. + +"Are you beginning to wish, Rhoda," she said, "that I had not brought +you to this strange place, among these wild people?" + +The maid was a quiet amiable girl, evidently in delicate health. She +smiled faintly. "I was thinking, Miss, of another nobleman besides the +one Mrs. Lewson mentioned just now, who seems to have led a reckless +life. It was printed in a newspaper that I read before we left London." + +"Was his name mentioned?" Iris asked. + +"No, Miss; I suppose they were afraid of giving offence. He tried so +many strange ways of getting a living--it was almost like reading a +story-book." + +The suppression of the name suggested a suspicion from which Iris +recoiled. Was it possible that her maid could be ignorantly alluding to +Lord Harry? + +"Do you remember this hero's adventures?" she said. + +"I can try, Miss, if you wish to hear about him." + +The newspaper narrative appeared to have produced a vivid impression on +Rhoda's mind. Making allowance for natural hesitations and mistakes, +and difficulties in expressing herself correctly, she repeated with a +singularly clear recollection the substance of what she had read. + +IX + +THE principal characters in the story were an old Irish nobleman, who +was called the Earl, and the youngest of his two sons, mysteriously +distinguished as "the wild lord." + +It was said of the Earl that he had not been a good father; he had +cruelly neglected both his sons. The younger one, badly treated at +school, and left to himself in the holidays, began his adventurous +career by running away. He got employment (under an assumed name) as a +ship's boy. At the outset, he did well; learning his work, and being +liked by the Captain and the crew. But the chief mate was a brutal man, +and the young runaway's quick temper resented the disgraceful +infliction of blows. He made up his mind to try his luck on shore, and +attached himself to a company of strolling players. Being a handsome +lad, with a good figure and a fine clear voice, he did very well for a +while on the country stage. Hard times came; salaries were reduced; the +adventurer wearied of the society of actors and actresses. His next +change of life presented him in North Britain as a journalist, employed +on a Scotch newspaper. An unfortunate love affair was the means of +depriving him of this new occupation. He was recognised, soon +afterwards, serving as assistant steward in one of the passenger +steamers voyaging between Liverpool and New York. Arrived in this last +city, he obtained notoriety, of no very respectable kind, as a "medium" +claiming powers of supernatural communication with the world of +spirits. When the imposture was ultimately discovered, he had gained +money by his unworthy appeal to the meanly prosaic superstition of +modern times. A long interval had then elapsed, and nothing had been +heard of him, when a starving man was discovered by a traveller, lost +on a Western prairie. The ill-fated Irish lord had associated himself +with an Indian tribe--had committed some offence against their +laws--and had been deliberately deserted and left to die. On his +recovery, he wrote to his elder brother (who had inherited the title +and estates on the death of the old Earl) to say that he was ashamed of +the life that he had led, and eager to make amendment by accepting any +honest employment that could be offered to him. The traveller who had +saved his life, and whose opinion was to be trusted, declared that the +letter represented a sincerely penitent state of mind. There were good +qualities in the vagabond, which only wanted a little merciful +encouragement to assert themselves. The reply that he received from +England came from the lawyers employed by the new Earl. They had +arranged with their agents in New York to pay to the younger brother a +legacy of a thousand pounds, which represented all that had been left +to him by his father's will. If he wrote again his letters would not be +answered; his brother had done with him. Treated in this inhuman +manner, the wild lord became once more worthy of his name. He tried a +new life as a betting man at races and trotting-matches. Fortune +favoured him at the outset, and he considerably increased his legacy. +With the customary infatuation of men who gain money by risking the +loss of it, he presumed on his good luck. One pecuniary disaster +followed another, and left him literally penniless. He was found again, +in England, exhibiting an open boat in which he and a companion had +made one of those foolhardy voyages across the Atlantic, which have now +happily ceased to interest the public. To a friend who remonstrated +with him, he answered that he reckoned on being lost at sea, and on so +committing a suicide worthy of the desperate life that he had led. The +last accounts of him, after this, were too vague and too contradictory +to be depended on. At one time it was reported that he had returned to +the United States. Not long afterwards unaccountable paragraphs +appeared in newspapers declaring, at one and the same time, that he was +living among bad company in Paris, and that he was hiding disreputably +in an ill famed quarter of the city of Dublin, called "the Liberties." +In any case there was good reason to fear that Irish-American +desperadoes had entangled the wild lord in the network of political +conspiracy. + + +The maid noticed a change in the mistress which surprised her, when she +had reached the end of the newspaper story. Of Miss Henley's customary +good spirits not a trace remained. "Few people, Rhoda, remember what +they read as well as you do." She said it kindly and sadly--and she +said no more. + +There was a reason for this. + +Now at one time, and now at another, Iris had heard of Lord Harry's +faults and failings in fragments of family history. The complete record +of his degraded life, presented in an uninterrupted succession of +events, had now forced itself on her attention for the first time. It +naturally shocked her. She felt, as she had never felt before, how +entirely right her father had been in insisting on her resistance to an +attachment which was unworthy of her. So far, but no farther, her +conscience yielded to its own conviction of what was just. But the one +unassailable vital force in this world is the force of love. It may +submit to the hard necessities of life; it may acknowledge the +imperative claims of duty; it may be silent under reproach, and +submissive to privation--but, suffer what it may, it is the +master-passion still; subject to no artificial influences, owning no +supremacy but the law of its own being. Iris was above the reach of +self-reproach, when her memory recalled the daring action which had +saved Lord Harry at the milestone. Her better sense acknowledged Hugh +Mountjoy's superiority over the other man--but her heart, her perverse +heart, remained true to its first choice in spite of her. She made an +impatient excuse and went out alone to recover her composure in the +farm-house garden. + +The hours of the evening passed slowly. + +There was a pack of cards in the house; the women tried to amuse +themselves, and failed. Anxiety about Arthur preyed on the spirits of +Miss Henley and Mrs. Lewson. Even the maid, who had only seen him +during his last visit to London, said she wished to-morrow had come and +gone. His sweet temper, his handsome face, his lively talk had made +Arthur a favourite everywhere. Mrs. Lewson had left her comfortable +English home to be his housekeeper, when he tried his rash experiment +of farming in Ireland. And, more wonderful still, even wearisome Sir +Giles became an agreeable person in his nephew's company. + +Iris set the example of retiring at an early hour to her room. + +There was something terrible in the pastoral silence of the place. It +associated itself mysteriously with her fears for Arthur; it suggested +armed treachery on tiptoe, taking its murderous stand in hiding; the +whistling passage of bullets through the air; the piercing cry of a man +mortally wounded, and that man, perhaps----? Iris shrank from her own +horrid thought. A momentary faintness overcame her; she opened the +window. As she put her head out to breathe the cool night-air, a man on +horseback rode up to the house. Was it Arthur? No: the light-coloured +groom's livery that he wore was just visible. + +Before he could dismount to knock at the door, a tall man walked up to +him out of the darkness. + +"Is that Miles?" the tall man asked. + +The groom knew the voice. Iris was even better acquainted with it. She, +too, recognised Lord Harry. + +X + +THERE was the Irish lord at the very time when Iris was most patiently +resigned never to see him more, never to think of him as her husband +again--reminding her of the first days of their love, and of their +mutual confession of it! Fear of herself kept her behind the curtain; +while interest in Lord Harry detained her at the window in hiding. + +"All well at Rathco?" he asked--mentioning the name of the house in +which Arthur was one of the guests. + +"Yes, my lord. Mr. Mountjoy leaves us to-morrow." + +"Does he mean to return to the farm?" + +"Sorry I am to say it; he does mean that." + +"Has he fixed any time, Miles, for starting on his journey?" + +Miles instituted a search through his pockets, and accompanied it by an +explanation. Yes, indeed, Master Arthur had fixed a time; he had +written a note to say so to Mistress Lewson, the housekeeper; he had +said, "Drop the note at the farm, on your way to the village." And what +might Miles want at the village, in the dark? Medicine, in a hurry, for +one of his master's horses that was sick and sinking. And, speaking of +that, here, thank God, was the note! + +Iris, listening and watching alternately, saw to her surprise the note +intended for Mrs. Lewson handed to Lord Harry. "Am I expected," he +asked jocosely, "to read writing without a light?" Miles produced a +small lantern which was strapped to his groom's belt. "There's parts of +the road not over safe in the dark," he said as he raised the shade +which guarded the light. The wild lord coolly opened the letter, and +read the few careless words which it contained. "To Mrs. Lewson:--Dear +old girl, expect me back to-morrow to dinner at three o'clock. Yours, +ARTHUR." + +There was a pause. + +"Are there any strangers at Rathco?" Lord Harry asked. + +"Two new men," Miles replied, "at work in the grounds." + +There was another pause. "How can I protect him?" the young lord said, +partly to himself, partly to Miles. He suspected the two new +men---spies probably who knew of Arthur's proposed journey home, and +who had already reported to their employers the hour at which he would +set out. + +Miles ventured to say a word: "I hope you won't be angry with me, my +lord"---- + +"Stuff and nonsense! Was I ever angry with you, when I was rich enough +to keep a servant, and when you were the man?" + +The Irish groom answered in a voice that trembled with strong feeling. +"You were the best and kindest master that ever lived on this earth. I +can't see you putting your precious life in peril"---- + +"My precious life?" Lord Harry repeated lightly. "You're thinking of +Mr. Mountjoy, when you say that. _His_ life is worth saving. As for my +life"---- He ended the sentence by a whistle, as the best way he could +hit on of expressing his contempt for his own existence. + +"My lord! my lord!" Miles persisted; "the Invincibles are beginning to +doubt you. If any of them find you hanging about Mr. Mountjoy's farm, +they'll try a shot at you first, and ask afterwards whether it was +right to kill you or not." + +To hear this said--and said seriously--after the saving of him at the +milestone, was a trial of her firmness which Iris was unable to resist. +Love got the better of prudence. She drew back the window-curtain. In +another moment, she would have added her persuasion to the servant's +warning, if Lord Harry himself had not accidentally checked her by a +proceeding, on his part, for which she was not prepared. + +"Show the light," he said; "I'll write a line to Mr. Mountjoy." + +He tore off the blank page from the note to the housekeeper, and wrote +to Arthur, entreating him to change the time of his departure from +Rathco, and to tell no creature in the house, or out of the house, at +what new hour he had arranged to go. "Saddle your horse yourself," the +letter concluded. It was written in a feigned hand, without a +signature. + +"Give that to Mr. Mountjoy," Lord Harry said. "If he asks who wrote it, +don't frighten him about me by telling the truth. Lie, Miles! Say you +don't know." He next returned the note for Mrs. Lewson. "If she notices +that it has been opened," he resumed, "and asks who has done it, lie +again. Good-night, Miles--and mind those dangerous places on your road +home." + +The groom darkened his lantern; and the wild lord was lost to view, +round the side of the house. + +Left by himself, Miles rapped at the door with the handle of his whip. +"A letter from Mr. Arthur," he called out. Mrs. Lewson at once took the +note, and examined it by the light of the candle on the hall-table. +"Somebody has been reading this!" she exclaimed, stepping out to the +groom, and showing him the torn envelope. Miles, promptly obeying his +instructions, declared that he knew nothing about it, and rode away. + +Iris descended the stairs, and joined Mrs. Lewson in the hall before +she had closed the door. The housekeeper at once produced Arthur's +letter. + +"It's on my mind, Miss," she said, "to write an answer, and say +something to Mr. Arthur which will persuade him to take care of +himself, on his way back to the farm. The difficulty is, how am I to +express it? You would be doing a kind thing if you would give me a word +of advice." + +Iris willingly complied. A second note, from the anxious housekeeper, +might help the effect of the few lines which Lord Harry had written. + +Arthur's letter informed Iris that he had arranged to return at three +o'clock. Lord Harry's question to the groom, and the man's reply, +instantly recurred to her memory: "Are there any strangers at +Rathco?"--"Two new men at work in the grounds." Arriving at the same +conclusion which had already occurred to Lord Harry, Iris advised the +housekeeper, in writing to Arthur, to entreat him to change the hour, +secretly, at which he left his friend's house on the next day. Warmly +approving of this idea, Mrs. Lewson hurried into the parlour to write +her letter. "Don't go to bed yet, Miss," she said; "I want you to read +it before I send it away the first thing to-morrow morning." + +Left alone in the hall, with the door open before her, Iris looked out +on the night, thinking. + +The lives of the two men in whom she was interested--in widely +different ways--were now both threatened; and the imminent danger, at +that moment, was the danger of Lord Harry. He was an outlaw whose +character would not bear investigation; but, to give him his due, there +was no risk which he was not ready to confront for Arthur's sake. If he +was still recklessly lingering, on the watch for assassins in the +dangerous neighbourhood of the farm, who but herself possessed the +influence which would prevail on him to leave the place? She had joined +Mrs. Lewson at the door with that conviction in her mind. In another +instant, she was out of the house, and beginning her search in the +dark. + +Iris made the round of the building; sometimes feeling her way in +obscure places; sometimes calling to Lord Harry cautiously by his name. +No living creature appeared; no sound of a movement disturbed the +stillness of the night. The discovery of his absence, which she had not +dared to hope for, was the cheering discovery which she had now made. + +On her way back to the house, she became conscious of the rashness of +the act into which her own generous impulse had betrayed her. + +If she and Lord Harry had met, could she have denied the tender +interest in him which her own conduct would then have revealed? Would +he not have been justified in concluding that she had pardoned the +errors and the vices of his life, and that he might without impropriety +remind her of their engagement, and claim her hand in marriage? She +trembled as she thought of the concessions which he might have wrung +from her. "Never more," she determined, "shall my own folly be +answerable for it, if he and I meet again." + +She had returned to Mrs. Lewson, and had read over the letter to +Arthur, when the farm clock, striking the hour, reminded them that it +was time to retire. They slept badly that night. + +At six in the morning, one of the two labourers who had remained +faithful to Arthur was sent away on horseback with the housekeeper's +reply, and with orders to wait for an answer. Allowing time for giving +the horse a rest, the man might be expected to return before noon. + +IX + +IT was a fine sunshiny day; Mrs. Lewson's spirits began to improve. "I +have always held the belief," the worthy old woman confessed, "that +bright weather brings good luck--of course provided the day is not a +Friday. This is Wednesday. Cheer up, Miss." + +The messenger returned with good news. Mr. Arthur had been as merry as +usual. He had made fun of another letter of good advice, received +without a signature. "But Mrs. Lewson must have her way," he said. "My +love to the old dear--I'll start two hours later, and be back to dinner +at five." + +"Where did Mr. Arthur give you that message?" Iris inquired. + +"At the stables, Miss, while I was putting up the horse. The men about +were all on the broad grin when they heard Mr. Arthur's message." + +Still in a morbid state of mind, Iris silently regretted that the +message had not been written, instead of being delivered by word of +mouth. Here, again, she (like the wild lord) had been afraid of +listeners. + +The hours wore slowly on until it was past four o'clock. Iris could +endure the suspense no longer. "It's a lovely afternoon," she said to +Mrs. Lewson. "Let us take a walk along the road, and meet Arthur." To +this proposal the housekeeper readily agreed. + +It was nearly five o'clock when they reached a place at which a by-road +branched off, through a wood, from the highway which they had hitherto +followed. Mrs. Lewson found a seat on a felled tree. "We had better not +go any farther," she said. + +Iris asked if there was any reason for this. + +There was an excellent reason. A few yards farther on, the high road +had been diverted from the straight line (in the interest of a large +agricultural village), and was then directed again into its former +course. The by-road through the wood served as a short cut, for +horsemen and pedestrians, from one divergent point to the other. It was +next to a certainty that Arthur would return by the short cut. But if +accident or caprice led to his preferring the highway, it was clearly +necessary to wait for him within view of both the roads. + +Too restless to submit to a state of passive expectation, Iris proposed +to follow the bridle path through the wood for a little way, and to +return if she failed to see anything of Arthur. "You are tired," she +said kindly to her companion: "pray don't move." + +Mrs. Lewson looked needlessly uneasy: "You might lose yourself, Miss. +Mind you keep to the path!" + +Iris followed the pleasant windings of the woodland track. In the hope +of meeting Arthur she considerably extended the length of her walk. The +white line of the high road, as it passed the farther end of the wood, +showed itself through the trees. She turned at once to rejoin Mrs. +Lewson. + +On her way back she made a discovery. A ruin which she had not +previously noticed showed itself among the trees on her left hand. Her +curiosity was excited; she strayed aside to examine it more closely. +The crumbling walls, as she approached them, looked like the remains of +an ordinary dwelling-house. Age is essential to the picturesque effect +of decay: a modern ruin is an unnatural and depressing object--and here +the horrid thing was. + +As she turned to retrace her steps to the road, a man walked out of the +inner space enclosed by all that was left of the dismantled house. A +cry of alarm escaped her. Was she the victim of destiny, or the sport +of chance? There was the wild lord whom she had vowed never to see +again: the master of her heart--perhaps the master of her fate! + +Any other man would have been amazed to see her, and would have asked +how it had happened that the English lady presented herself to him in +an Irish wood. This man enjoyed the delight of seeing her, and accepted +it as a blessing that was not to be questioned. "My angel has dropped +from Heaven," he said. "May Heaven be praised!" + +He approached her; his arms closed round her. She struggled to free +herself from his embrace. At that moment they both heard the crackle of +breaking uuderwood among the trees behind them. Lord Harry looked +round. "This is a dangerous place," he whispered; "I'm waiting to see +Arthur pass safely. Submit to be kissed, or I am a dead man." His eyes +told her that he was truly and fearfully in earnest. Her head sank on +his bosom. As he bent down and kissed her, three men approached from +their hiding-place among the trees. They had no doubt been watching +him, under orders from the murderous brotherhood to which they +belonged. Their pistols were ready in their hands--and what discovery +had they made? There was the brother who had been denounced as having +betrayed them, guilty of no worse treason than meeting his sweetheart +in a wood! "We beg your pardon, my lord," they cried, with a thoroughly +Irish enjoyment of their own discomfiture--and burst into a roar of +laughter--and left the lovers together. For the second time, Iris had +saved Lord Harry at a crisis in his life. + +"Let me go!" she pleaded faintly, trembling with superstitious fear for +the first time in her experience of herself. + +He held her to him as if he would never let her go again. "Oh, my +Sweet, give me a last chance. Help me to be a better man! You have only +to will it, Iris, and to make me worthy of you." + +His arms suddenly trembled round her, and dropped. The silence was +broken by a distant sound, like the report of a shot. He looked towards +the farther end of the wood. In a minute more, the thump of a horse's +hoofs at a gallop was audible, where the bridlepath was hidden among +the trees. It came nearer--nearer---the creature burst into view, wild +with fright, and carrying an empty saddle. Lord Harry rushed into the +path and seized the horse as it swerved at the sight of him. There was +a leather pocket attached to the front of the saddle. "Search it!" he +cried to Iris, forcing the terrified animal back on its haunches. She +drew out a silver travelling-flask. One glance at the name engraved on +it told him the terrible truth. His trembling hands lost their hold. +The horse escaped; the words burst from his lips: + +"Oh, God, they've killed him!" + +THE END OF THE PROLOGUE + + +THE STORY + +FIRST PERIOD + +CHAPTER I + +THE SOUR FRENCH WINE + +WHILE the line to be taken by the new railway between Culm and Everill +was still under discussion, the engineer caused some difference of +opinion among the moneyed men who were the first Directors of the +Company, by asking if they proposed to include among their Stations the +little old town of Honeybuzzard. + +For years past, commerce had declined, and population had decreased in +this ancient and curious place. Painters knew it well, and prized its +mediaeval houses as a mine of valuable material for their art. Persons +of cultivated tastes, who were interested in church architecture of the +fourteenth century, sometimes pleased and flattered the Rector by +subscribing to his fund for the restoration of the tower, and the +removal of the accumulated rubbish of hundreds of years from the crypt. +Small speculators, not otherwise in a state of insanity, settled +themselves in the town, and tried the desperate experiment of opening a +shop; spent their little capital, put up the shutters, and disappeared. +The old market-place still showed its list of market-law's, issued by +the Mayor and Corporation in the prosperous bygone times; and every +week there were fewer and fewer people to obey the laws. The great +empty enclosure looked more cheerful, when there was no market held, +and when the boys of the town played in the deserted place. In the last +warehouse left in a state of repair, the crane was generally idle; the +windows were mostly shut up; and a solitary man represented languishing +trade, idling at a half-opened door. The muddy river rose and fell with +the distant tide. At rare intervals a collier discharged its cargo on +the mouldering quay, or an empty barge took in a load of hay. One bold +house advertised, in a dirty window, apartments to let. There was a +lawyer in the town, who had no occasion to keep a clerk; and there was +a doctor who hoped to sell his practice for anything that it would +fetch. The directors of the new railway, after a stormy meeting, +decided on offering (by means of a Station) a last chance of revival to +the dying town. The town had not vitality enough left to be grateful; +the railway stimulant produced no effect. Of all his colleagues in +Great Britain and Ireland, the station-master at Honeybuzzard was the +idlest man--and this, as he said to the unemployed porter, through no +want of energy on his own part. + +Late on a rainy autumn afternoon, the slow train left one traveller at +the Station. He got out of a first-class carriage; he carried an +umbrella and a travelling-bag; and he asked his way to the best inn. +The station-master and the porter compared notes. One of them said: +"Evidently a gentleman." The other added: "What can he possibly want +here?" + +The stranger twice lost his way in the tortuous old streets of the town +before he reached the inn. On giving his orders, it appeared that he +wanted three things: a private room, something to eat, and, while the +dinner was being cooked, materials for writing a letter. + +Answering her daughter's questions downstairs, the landlady described +her guest as a nice-looking man dressed in deep mourning. "Young, my +dear, with beautiful dark brown hair, and a grand beard, and a sweet +sorrowful look. Ah, his eyes would tell anybody that his black clothes +are not a mere sham. Whether married or single, of course I can't say. +But I noticed the name on his travelling-bag. A distinguished name in +my opinion--Hugh Mountjoy. I wonder what he'll order to drink when he +has his dinner? What a mercy it will be if we can get rid of another +bottle of the sour French wine!" + +The bell in the private room rang at that moment; and the landlady's +daughter, it is needless to say, took the opportunity of forming her +own opinion of Mr. Hugh Mountjoy. + +She returned with a letter in her hand, consumed by a vain longing for +the advantages of gentle birth. "Ah, mother, if I was a young lady of +the higher classes, I know whose wife I should like to be!" Not +particularly interested in sentimental aspirations, the landlady asked +to see Mr. Mountjoy's letter. The messenger who delivered it was to +wait for an answer. It was addressed to: "Miss Henley, care of Clarence +Vimpany, Esquire, Honeybuzzard." Urged by an excited imagination, the +daughter longed to see Miss Henley. The mother was at a loss to +understand why Mr. Mountjoy should have troubled himself to write the +letter at all. "If he knows the young lady who is staying at the +doctor's house," she said, "why doesn't he call on Miss Henley?" She +handed the letter back to her daughter. "There! let the ostler take it; +he's got nothing to do." + +"No, mother. The ostler's dirty hands mustn't touch it--I'll take the +letter myself. Perhaps I may see Miss Henley." Such was the impression +which Mr. Hugh Mountjoy had innocently produced on a sensitive young +person, condemned by destiny to the barren sphere of action afforded by +a country inn! + +The landlady herself took the dinner upstairs--a first course of mutton +chops and potatoes, cooked to a degree of imperfection only attained in +an English kitchen. The sour French wine was still on the good woman's +mind. "What would you choose to drink, sir?" she asked. Mr. Mountjoy +seemed to feel no interest in what he might have to drink. "We have +some French wine, sir." + +"Thank you, ma'am; that will do." + +When the bell rang again, and the time came to produce the second +course of cheese and celery, the landlady allowed the waiter to take +her place. Her experience of the farmers who frequented the inn, and +who had in some few cases been induced to taste the wine, warned her to +anticipate an outbreak of just anger from Mr. Mountjoy. He, like the +others, would probably ask what she "meant by poisoning him with such +stuff as that." On the return of the waiter, she put the question: "Did +the gentleman complain of the French wine?" + +"He wants to see you about it, ma'am." + +The landlady turned pale. The expression of Mr. Mountjoy's indignation +was evidently reserved for the mistress of the house. "Did he swear," +she asked, "when he tasted it?" + +"Lord bless you, ma'am, no! Drank it out of a tumbler, and--if you will +believe me--actually seemed to like it." + +The landlady recovered her colour. Gratitude to Providence for having +sent a customer to the inn, who could drink sour wine without +discovering it, was the uppermost feeling in her ample bosom as she +entered the private room. Mr. Mountjoy justified her anticipations. He +was simple enough--with his tumbler before him, and the wine as it were +under his nose--to begin with an apology. + +"I am sorry to trouble you, ma'am. May I ask where you got this wine?" + +"The wine, sir, was one of my late husband's bad debts. It was all he +could get from a Frenchman who owed him money." + +"It's worth money, ma'am." + +"Indeed, sir?" + +"Yes, indeed. This is some of the finest and purest claret that I have +tasted for many a long day past." + +An alarming suspicion disturbed the serenity of the landlady's mind. +Was his extraordinary opinion of the wine sincere? Or was it Mr. +Mountjoy's wicked design to entrap her into praising her claret and +then to imply that she was a cheat by declaring what he really thought +of it? She took refuge in a cautious reply: + +"You are the first gentleman, sir, who has not found fault with it." + +"In that case, perhaps you would like to get rid of the wine?" Mr. +Mountjoy suggested. + +The landlady was still cautious. "Who will buy it of me, sir?" + +"I will. How much do you charge for it by the bottle?" + +It was, by this time, clear that he was not mischievous--only a little +crazy. The worldly-wise hostess took advantage of that circumstance to +double the price. Without hesitation, she said: "Five shillings a +bottle, sir." + +Often, too often, the irony of circumstances brings together, on this +earthly scene, the opposite types of vice and virtue. A lying landlady +and a guest incapable of deceit were looking at each other across a +narrow table; equally unconscious of the immeasurable moral gulf that +lay between them, Influenced by honourable feeling, innocent Hugh +Mountjoy lashed the landlady's greed for money to the full-gallop of +human cupidity. + +"I don't think you are aware of the value of your wine," he said. "I +have claret in my cellar which is not so good as this, and which costs +more than you have asked. It is only fair to offer you seven-and- +sixpence a bottle." + +When an eccentric traveller is asked to pay a price, and deliberately +raises that price against himself, where is the sensible +woman--especially if she happens to be a widow conducting an +unprofitable business--who would hesitate to improve the opportunity? +The greedy landlady raised her terms. + +"On reflection, sir, I think I ought to have ten shillings a bottle, if +you please." + +"The wine may be worth it," Mountjoy answered quietly; "but it is more +than I can afford to pay. No, ma'am; I will leave you to find some +lover of good claret with a longer purse than mine." + +It was in this man's character, when he said No, to mean No. Mr. +Mountjoy's hostess perceived that her crazy customer was not to be +trifled with. She lowered her terms again with the headlong hurry of +terror. "You shall have it, Sir, at your own price," said this entirely +shameless and perfectly respectable woman. + +The bargain having been closed under these circumstances, the +landlady's daughter knocked at the door. "I took your letter myself, +sir," she said modestly; "and here is the answer." (She had seen Miss +Henley, and did not think much of her.) Mountjoy offered the expression +of his thanks, in words never to be forgotten by a sensitive young +person, and opened his letter. It was short enough to be read in a +moment; but it was evidently a favourable reply. He took his hat in a +hurry, and asked to be shown the way to Mr. Vimpany's house. + +CHAPTER II + +THE MAN SHE REFUSED + +MOUNTJOY had decided on travelling to Honeybuzzard, as soon as he heard +that Miss Henley was staying with strangers in that town. Having had no +earlier opportunity of preparing her to see him, he had considerately +written to her from the inn, in preference to presenting himself +unexpectedly at the doctor's house. How would she receive the devoted +friend, whose proposal of marriage she had refused for the second time, +when they had last met in London? + +The doctor's place of residence, situated in a solitary by-street, +commanded a view, not perhaps encouraging to a gentleman who followed +the medical profession: it was a view of the churchyard. The door was +opened by a woman-servant, who looked suspiciously at the stranger. +Without waiting to be questioned, she said her master was out. Mountjoy +mentioned his name, and asked for Miss Henley. + +The servant's manner altered at once for the better; she showed him +into a small drawing-room, scantily and cheaply furnished. Some +poorly-framed prints on the walls (a little out of place perhaps in a +doctor's house) represented portraits of famous actresses, who had been +queens of the stage in the early part of the present century. The few +books, too, collected on a little shelf above the chimney-piece, were +in every case specimens of dramatic literature. "Who reads these +plays?" Mountjoy asked himself. "And how did Iris find her way into +this house?" + +While he was thinking of her, Miss Henley entered the room. + +Her face was pale and careworn; tears dimmed her eyes when Mountjoy +advanced to meet her. In his presence, the horror of his brother's +death by assassination shook Iris as it had not shaken her yet. +Impulsively, she drew his head down to her, with the fond familiarity +of a sister, and kissed his forehead. "Oh, Hugh, I know how you and +Arthur loved each other! No words of mine can say how I feel for you." + +"No words are wanted, my dear," he answered tenderly. "Your sympathy +speaks for itself." + +He led her to the sofa and seated himself by her side. "Your father has +shown me what you have written to him," he resumed; "your letter from +Dublin and your second letter from this place. I know what you have so +nobly risked and suffered in poor Arthur's interests. It will be some +consolation to me if I can make a return--a very poor return, Iris--for +all that Arthur's brother owes to the truest friend that ever man had. +No," he continued, gently interrupting the expression of her gratitude. +"Your father has not sent me here--but he knows that I have left London +for the express purpose of seeing you, and he knows why. You have +written to him dutifully and affectionately; you have pleaded for +pardon and reconciliation, when he is to blame. Shall I venture to tell +you how he answered me, when I asked if he had no faith left in his own +child? 'Hugh,' he said, 'you are wasting words on a man whose mind is +made up. I will trust my daughter when that Irish lord is laid in his +grave--not before.' That is a reflection on you, Iris, which I cannot +permit, even when your father casts it. He is hard, he is unforgiving; +but he must, and shall, be conquered yet. I mean to make him do you +justice; I have come here with that purpose, and that purpose only, in +view. May I speak to you of Lord Harry?" + +"How can you doubt it!" + +"My dear, this is a delicate subject for me to enter on." + +"And a shameful subject for me!" Iris broke out bitterly. "Hugh! you +are an angel, by comparison with that man--how debased I must be to +love him--how unworthy of your good opinion! Ask me anything you like; +have no mercy on me. Oh," she cried, with reckless contempt for +herself, "why don't you beat me? I deserve it!" + +Mountjoy was well enough acquainted with the natures of women to pass +over that passionate outbreak, instead of fanning the flame in her by +reasoning and remonstrance. + +"Your father will not listen to the expression of feeling," he +continued; "but it is possible to rouse his sense of justice by the +expression of facts. Help me to speak to him more plainly of Lord Harry +than you could speak in your letters. I want to know what has happened, +from the time when events at Ardoon brought you and the young lord +together again, to the time when you left him in Ireland after my +brother's death. If I seem to expect too much of you, Iris, pray +remember that I am speaking with a true regard for your interests." + +In those words, he made his generous appeal to her. She proved herself +to be worthy of it. + + +Stated briefly, the retrospect began with the mysterious anonymous +letters which had been addressed to Sir Giles. + +Lord Harry's explanation had been offered to Iris gratefully, but with +some reserve, after she had told him who the stranger at the milestone +really was. "I entreat you to pardon me, if I shrink from entering into +particulars," he had said. "Circumstances, at the time, amply justified +me in the attempt to use the banker's political influence as a means of +securing Arthur's safety. I knew enough of Sir Giles's mean nature to +be careful in trusting him; but I did hope to try what my personal +influence might do. If he had possessed a tenth part of your courage, +Arthur might have been alive, and safe in England, at this moment. I +can't say any more; I daren't say any more; it maddens me when I think +of it!" He abruptly changed the subject, and interested Iris by +speaking of other and later events. His association with the +Invincibles--inexcusably rash and wicked as he himself confessed it to +be--had enabled him to penetrate, and for a time to defeat secretly, +the murderous designs of the brotherhood. His appearances, first at the +farmhouse and afterwards at the ruin in the wood were referable to +changes in the plans of the assassins which had come to his knowledge. +When Iris had met with him he was on the watch, believing that his +friend would take the short way back through the wood, and well aware +that his own life might pay the penalty if he succeeded in warning +Arthur. After the terrible discovery of the murder (committed on the +high road), and the escape of the miscreant who had been guilty of the +crime, the parting of Lord Harry and Miss Henley had been the next +event. She had left him, on her return to England, and had refused to +consent to any of the future meetings between them which he besought +her to grant. + + +At this stage in the narrative, Mountjoy felt compelled to ask +questions more searching than he had put to Iris yet. It was possible +that she might be trusting her own impressions of Lord Harry, with the +ill-placed confidence of a woman innocently self-deceived. + +"Did he submit willingly to your leaving him?" Mountjoy said. + +"Not at first," she replied. + +"Has he released you from that rash engagement, of some years since, +which pledged you to marry him?" + +"No." + +"Did he allude to the engagement, on this occasion?" + +"He said he held to it as the one hope of his life." + +"And what did you say?" + +"I implored him not to distress me." + +"Did you say nothing more positive than that?" + +"I couldn't help thinking, Hugh, of all that he had tried to do to save +Arthur. But I insisted on leaving him--and I have left him." + +"Do you remember what he said at parting?" + +"He said, 'While I live, I love you.'" + +As she repeated the words, there was an involuntary change to +tenderness in her voice which was not lost on Mountjoy. + +"I must be sure," he said to her gravely, "of what I tell your father +when I go back to him. Can I declare, with a safe conscience, that you +will never see Lord Harry again?" + +"My mind is made up never to see him again." She had answered firmly so +far. Her next words were spoken with hesitation, in tones that +faltered. "But I am sometimes afraid," she said, "that the decision may +not rest with me." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I would rather not tell you." + +"That is a strange answer, Iris." + +"I value your good opinion, Hugh, and I am afraid of losing it." + +"Nothing has ever altered my opinion of you," he replied, "and nothing +ever will." + +She looked at him anxiously, with the closest attention. Little by +little, the expression of doubt in her face disappeared; she knew how +he loved her--she resolved to trust him. + +"My friend," she began abruptly, "education has done nothing for me. +Since I left Ireland, I have sunk (I don't know how or why) into a +state of superstitious fear. Yes! I believe in a fatality which is +leading me back to Lord Harry, in spite of myself. Twice already, since +I left home, I have met with him; and each time I have been the means +of saving him--once at the milestone, and once at the ruin in the wood. +If my father still accuses me of being in love with an adventurer, you +can say with perfect truth that I am afraid of him. I _am_ afraid of +the third meeting. I have done my best to escape from that man; and, +step by step, as I think I am getting away, Destiny is taking me back +to him. I may be on my way to him here, hidden in this wretched little +town. Oh, don't despise me! Don't be ashamed of me!" + +"My dear, I am interested--deeply interested in you. That there may be +some such influence as Destiny in our poor mortal lives, I dare not +deny. But I don't agree with your conclusion. What Destiny has to do +with you and with me, neither you nor I can pretend to know beforehand. +In the presence of that great mystery, humanity must submit to be +ignorant. Wait, Iris--wait!" + +She answered him with the simplicity of a docile child: "I will do +anything you tell me." + +Mountjoy was too fond of her to say more of Lord Harry, for that day. +He was careful to lead the talk to a topic which might be trusted to +provoke no agitating thoughts. Finding Iris to all appearance +established in the doctor's house, he was naturally anxious to know +something of the person who must have invited her--the doctor's wife. + +CHAPTER III + +THE REGISTERED PACKET + +MOUNTJOY began by alluding to the second of Miss Henley's letters to +her father, and to a passage in it which mentioned Mrs. Vimpany with +expressions of the sincerest gratitude. + +"I should like to know more," he said, "of a lady whose hospitality at +home seems to equal her kindness as a fellow-traveller. Did you first +meet with her on the railway?" + +"She travelled by the same train to Dublin, with me and my maid, but +not in the same carriage," Iris answered; "I was so fortunate as to +meet with her on the voyage from Dublin to Holyhead. We had a rough +crossing; and Rhoda suffered so dreadfully from sea-sickness that she +frightened me. The stewardess was attending to ladies who were calling +for her in all directions; I really don't know what misfortune might +not have happened, if Mrs. Vimpany had not come forward in the kindest +manner, and offered help. She knew so wonderfully well what was to be +done, that she astonished me. 'I am the wife of a doctor,' she said; +'and I am only imitating what I have seen my husband do, when his +assistance has been required, at sea, in weather like this.' In her +poor state of health, Rhoda was too much exhausted to go on by the +train, when we got to Holyhead. She is the best of good girls, and I am +fond of her, as you know. If I had been by myself, I daresay I should +have sent for medical help. What do you think dear Mrs. Vimpany offered +to do? 'Your maid is only faint,' she said. 'Give her rest and some +iced wine, and she will be well enough to go on by the slow train. +Don't be frightened about her; I will wait with you.' And she did wait. +Are there many strangers, Hugh, who are as unselfishly good to others +as my chance-acquaintance in the steamboat?" + +"Very few, I am afraid." + +Mountjoy made that reply with some little embarrassment; conscious of a +doubt of Mrs. Vimpany's disinterested kindness, which seemed to be +unworthy of a just man. + +Iris went on. + +"Rhoda was sufficiently recovered," she said, "to travel by the next +train, and there seemed to be no reason for feeling any more anxiety. +But, after a time, the fatigue of the journey proved to be too much for +her. The poor girl turned pale--and fainted. Mrs. Vimpany revived her, +but as it turned out, only for a while. She fell into another fainting +fit; and my travelling-companion began to look anxious. There was some +difficulty in restoring Rhoda to her senses. In dread of another +attack, I determined to stop at the next station. It looked such a poor +place, when we got to it, that I hesitated. Mrs. Vimpany persuaded me +to go on. The next station, she said, was _her_ station. 'Stop there,' +she suggested, 'and let my husband look at the girl. I ought not +perhaps to say it, but you will find no better medical man out of +London.' I took the good creature's advice gratefully. What else could +I do?" + +"What would you have done," Mountjoy inquired, "if Rhoda had been +strong enough to get to the end of the journey?" + +"I should have gone on to London, and taken refuge in a lodging--you +were in town, as I believed, and my father might relent in time. As it +was, I felt my lonely position keenly. To meet with kind people, like +Mr. Vimpany and his wife, was a real blessing to such a friendless +creature as I am--to say nothing of the advantage to Rhoda, who is +getting better every day. I should like you to see Mrs. Vimpany, if she +is at home. She is a little formal and old fashioned in her manner--but +I am sure you will be pleased with her. Ah! you look round the room! +They are poor, miserably poor for persons in their position, these +worthy friends of mine. I have had the greatest difficulty in +persuading them to let me contribute my share towards the household +expenses. They only yielded when I threatened to go to the inn. You are +looking very serious, Hugh. Is it possible that you see some objection +to my staying in this house?" + +The drawing-room door was softly opened, at the moment when Iris put +that question. A lady appeared on the threshold. Seeing the stranger, +she turned to Iris. + +"I didn't know, dear Miss Henley, that you had a visitor. Pray pardon +my intrusion." + +The voice was deep; the articulation was clear; the smile presented a +certain modest dignity which gave it a value of its own. This was a +woman who could make such a commonplace thing as an apology worth +listening to. Iris stopped her as she was about to leave the room. "I +was just wishing for you," she said. "Let me introduce my old friend, +Mr. Mountjoy. Hugh, this is the lady who has been so kind to me--Mrs. +Vimpany." + +Hugh's impulse, under the circumstances, was to dispense with the +formality of a bow, and to shake hands. Mrs. Vimpany met this friendly +advance with a suavity of action, not often seen in these days of +movement without ceremony. She was a tall slim woman, of a certain age. +Art had so cleverly improved her complexion that it almost looked like +nature. Her cheeks had lost the plumpness of youth, but her hair +(thanks again perhaps to Art) showed no signs of turning grey. The +expression of her large dark eyes--placed perhaps a little too near her +high aquiline nose--claimed admiration from any person who was so +fortunate as to come within their range of view. Her hands, long, +yellow, and pitiably thin, were used with a grace which checked to some +extent their cruel betrayal of her age. Her dress had seen better days, +but it was worn with an air which forbade it to look actually shabby. +The faded lace that encircled her neck fell in scanty folds over her +bosom. She sank into a chair by Hugh's side. "It was a great pleasure +to me, Mr. Mountjoy, to offer my poor services to Miss Henley; I can't +tell you how happy her presence makes me in our little house." The +compliment was addressed to Iris with every advantage that smiles and +tones could offer. Oddly artificial as it undoubtedly was, Mrs. +Vimpany's manner produced nevertheless an agreeable impression. +Disposed to doubt her at first, Mountjoy found that she was winning her +way to a favourable change in his opinion. She so far interested him, +that he began to wonder what her early life might have been, when she +was young and handsome. He looked again at the portraits of actresses +on the walls, and the plays on the bookshelf--and then (when she was +speaking to Iris) he stole a sly glance at the doctor's wife. Was it +possible that this remarkable woman had once been an actress? He +attempted to put the value of that guess to the test by means of a +complimentary allusion to the prints. + +"My memory as a playgoer doesn't extend over many years," he began; +"but I can appreciate the historical interest of your beautiful +prints." Mrs. Vimpany bowed gracefully--and dumbly. Mountjoy tried +again. "One doesn't often see the famous actresses of past days," he +proceeded, "so well represented on the walls of an English house." + +This time, he had spoken to better purpose. Mrs. Vimpany answered him +in words. + +"I have many pleasant associations with the theatre," she said, "first +formed in the time of my girlhood." + +Mountjoy waited to hear something more. Nothing more was said. Perhaps +this reticent lady disliked looking back through a long interval of +years, or perhaps she had her reasons for leaving Mountjoy's guess at +the truth still lost in doubt. In either case, she deliberately dropped +the subject. Iris took it up. Sitting by the only table in the room, +she was in a position which placed her exactly opposite to one of the +prints--the magnificent portrait of Mrs. Siddons as The Tragic Muse. + +"I wonder if Mrs. Siddons was really as beautiful as that?" she said, +pointing to the print. "Sir Joshua Reynolds is reported to have +sometimes flattered his sitters." + +Mrs. Vimpany's solemn self-possessed eyes suddenly brightened; the name +of the great actress seemed to interest her. On the point, apparently, +of speaking, she dropped the subject of Mrs. Siddons as she had dropped +the subject of the theatre. Mountjoy was left to answer Iris. + +"We are none of us old enough," he reminded her, "to decide whether Sir +Joshua's brush has been guilty of flattery or not." He turned to Mrs. +Vimpany, and attempted to look into her life from a new point of view. +"When Miss Henley was so fortunate as to make your acquaintance," he +said, "you were travelling in Ireland. Was it your first visit to that +unhappy country?" + +"I have been more than once in Ireland." + +Having again deliberately disappointed Mountjoy, she was assisted in +keeping clear of the subject of Ireland by a fortunate interruption. It +was the hour of delivery by the afternoon-post. The servant came in +with a small sealed packet, and a slip of printed paper in her hand. + +"It's registered, ma'am," the woman announced. "The postman says you +are to please sign this. And he seems to be in a hurry." + +She placed the packet and the slip of paper on the table, near the +inkstand. Having signed the receipt, Mrs. Vimpany took up the packet, +and examined the address. She instantly looked at Iris, and looked away +again. "Will you excuse me for a moment?" saying this she left the +room, without opening the packet. + +The moment the door closed on her, Iris started up, and hurried to +Mountjoy. + +"Oh, Hugh," she said, "I saw the address on that packet when the +servant put it on the table!" + +"My dear, what is there to excite you in the address?" + +"Don't speak so loud! She may be listening outside the door." + +Not only the words, but the tone in which they were spoken, amazed +Mountjoy. "Your friend, Mrs. Vimpany!" he exclaimed. + +"Mrs. Vimpany was afraid to open the packet in our presence," Iris went +on: "you must have seen that. The handwriting is familiar to me; I am +certain of the person who wrote the address." + +"Well? And who is the person?" + +She whispered in his ear: + +"Lord Harry." + +CHAPTER IV + +THE GAME: MOUNTJOY LOSES + +SURPRISE silenced Hugh for the moment. Iris understood the look that he +fixed on her, and answered it. "I am quite sure," she told him, "of +what I say." + +Mountjoy's well-balanced mind hesitated at rushing to a conclusion. + +"I am sure you are convinced of what you tell me," he said. "But +mistakes do sometimes happen in forming a judgment of handwriting." + +In the state of excitement that now possessed her, Iris was easily +irritated; she was angry with Hugh for only supposing that she might +have made a mistake. He had himself, as she reminded him, seen Lord +Harry's handwriting in past days. Was it possible to be mistaken in +those bold thickly-written characters, with some of the letters so +quaintly formed? "Oh, Hugh, I am miserable enough as it is," she broke +out; "don't distract me by disputing what I know! Think of a woman so +kind, so disinterested, so charming--the very opposite of a false +creature--think of Mrs. Vimpany having deceived me!" + +There was not the slightest reason, thus far, for placing that +interpretation on what had happened. Mountjoy gently, very gently, +remonstrated. + +"My dear, we really don't know yet that Mrs. Vimpany has been acting +under Lord Harry's instructions. Wait a little before you suspect your +fellow-traveller of offering her services for the purpose of deceiving +you." + +Iris was angry with him again: "Why did Mrs. Vimpany never tell me she +knew Lord Harry? Isn't that suspicious?" + +Mountjoy smiled. "Let me put a question on my side," he said. "Did +_you_ tell Mrs. Vimpany you knew Lord Harry?" Iris made no reply; her +face spoke for her. "Well, then," he urged, "is _your_ silence +suspicious? I am far, mind, from saying that this may not be a very +unpleasant discovery. Only let us be sure first that we are right." + +With most of a woman's merits, Miss Henley had many of a woman's +faults. Still holding to her own conclusion, she asked how they could +expect to be sure of anything if they addressed their inquiries to a +person who had already deceived them. + +Mountjoy's inexhaustible indulgence still made allowances for her. +"When Mrs. Vimpany comes back," he said, "I will find an opportunity of +mentioning Lord Harry's name. If she tells us that she knows him, there +will be good reason in that one circumstance, as it seems to me, for +continuing to trust her." + +"Suppose she shams ignorance," Iris persisted, "and looks as if she had +never heard of his name before?" + +"In that case, I shall own that I was wrong, and shall ask you to +forgive me." + +The finer and better nature of Iris recovered its influence at these +words. "It is I who ought to beg pardon," she said. "Oh, I wish I could +think before I speak: how insolent and ill-tempered I have been! But +suppose I turn out to be right, Hugh, what will you do then?" + +"Then, my dear, it will be my duty to take you and your maid away from +this house, and to tell your father what serious reasons there are"---- +He abruptly checked himself. Mrs. Vimpany had returned; she was in +perfect possession of her lofty courtesy, sweetened by the modest +dignity of her smile. + +"I have left you, Miss Henley, in such good company," she said, with a +gracious inclination of her head in the direction of Mountjoy, "that I +need hardly repeat my apologies--unless, indeed, I am interrupting a +confidential conversation." + +It was possible that Iris might have betrayed herself, when the +doctor's wife had looked at her after examining the address on the +packet. In this case Mrs. Vimpany's allusion to "a confidential +conversation" would have operated as a warning to a person of +experience in the by-ways of deceit. Mountjoy's utmost exertion of +cunning was not capable of protecting him on such conditions as these. +The opportunity of trying his proposed experiment with Lord Harry's +name seemed to have presented itself already. He rashly seized on it. + +"You have interrupted nothing that was confidential," he hastened to +assure Mrs. Vimpany. "We have been speaking of a reckless young +gentleman, who is an acquaintance of ours. If what I hear is true, he +has already become public property; his adventures have found their way +into some of the newspapers." + +Here, if Mrs. Vimpany had answered Hugh's expectations, she ought to +have asked who the young gentleman was. She merely listened in polite +silence. + +With a woman's quickness of perception, Iris saw that Mountjoy had not +only pounced on his opportunity prematurely, but had spoken with a +downright directness of allusion which must at once have put such a +ready-witted person as Mrs. Vimpany on her guard. In trying to prevent +him from pursuing his unfortunate experiment in social diplomacy, Iris +innocently repeated Mountjoy's own mistake. She, too, seized her +opportunity prematurely. That is to say, she was rash enough to change +the subject. + +"You were talking just now, Hugh, of our friend's adventures," she +said; "I am afraid you will find yourself involved in an adventure of +no very agreeable kind, if you engage a bed at the inn. I never saw a +more wretched-looking place." + +It was one of Mrs. Vimpany's many merits that she seldom neglected an +opportunity of setting her friends at their ease. + +"No, no, dear Miss Henley," she hastened to say; "the inn is really a +more clean and comfortable place than you suppose. A hard bed and a +scarcity of furniture are the worst evils which your friend has to +fear. Do you know," she continued, addressing herself to Mountjoy, +"that I was reminded of a friend of mine, when you spoke just now of +the young gentleman whose adventures are in the newspapers. Is it +possible that you referred to the brother of the present Earl of +Norland? A handsome young Irishman--with whom I first became acquainted +many years since. Am I right in supposing that you and Miss Henley know +Lord Harry?" she asked. + +What more than this could an unprejudiced mind require? Mrs. Vimpany +had set herself right with a simplicity that defied suspicion. Iris +looked at Mountjoy. He appeared to know when he was beaten. Having +acknowledged that Lord Harry was the young gentleman of whom he and +Miss Henley had been speaking, he rose to take leave. + +After what had passed, Iris felt the necessity of speaking privately to +Hugh. The necessary excuse presented itself in the remote situation of +the inn. "You will never find your way back," she said, "through the +labyrinth of crooked streets in this old town. Wait for me a minute, +and I will be your guide." + +Mrs. Vimpany protested. "My dear! let the servant show the way." + +Iris held gaily to her resolution, and ran away to her room. Mrs. +Vimpany yielded with her best grace. Miss Henley's motive could hardly +have been plainer to her, if Miss Henley had confessed it herself. +"What a charming girl!" the doctor's amiable wife said to Mountjoy, +when they were alone. "If I were a man, Miss Iris is just the young +lady that I should fall in love with." She looked significantly at +Mountjoy. Nothing came of it. She went on: "Miss Henley must have had +many opportunities of being married; but the right man has, I fear, not +yet presented himself." Once more her eloquent eyes consulted Mountjoy, +and once more nothing came of it. Some women are easily discouraged. +Impenetrable Mrs. Vimpany was one of the other women; she had not done +with Mountjoy yet--she invited him to dinner on the next day. + +"Our early hour is three o'clock," she said modestly. "Pray join us. I +hope to have the pleasure of introducing my husband." + +Mountjoy had his reasons for wishing to see the husband. As he accepted +the invitation, Miss Henley returned to accompany him to the inn. + +Iris put the inevitable question to Hugh as soon as they were out of +the doctor's house--"What do you say of Mrs. Vimpany now?" + +"I say that she must have been once an actress," Mountjoy answered; +"and that she carries her experience of the stage into private life." + +"What do you propose to do next?" + +"I propose to wait, and see Mrs. Vimpany's husband to-morrow." + +"Why?" + +"Mrs. Vimpany, my dear, is too clever for me. If--observe, please, that +I do her the justice of putting it in that way--if she is really Lord +Harry's creature, employed to keep watch on you, and to inform him of +your next place of residence in England, I own that she has completely +deceived me. In that case, it is just possible that the husband is not +such a finished and perfect humbug as the wife. I may be able to see +through him. I can but try." + +Iris sighed. "I almost hope you may not succeed," she said. + +Mountjoy was puzzled, and made no attempt to conceal it. "I thought you +only wanted to get at the truth," he answered. + +"My mind might be easier, perhaps, if I was left in doubt," she +suggested. "A perverse way of thinking has set up my poor opinion +against yours. But I am getting back to my better sense. I believe you +were entirely right when you tried to prevent me from rushing to +conclusions; it is more than likely that I have done Mrs. Vimpany an +injustice. Oh, Hugh, I ought to keep a friend--I who have so few +friends--when I have got one! And there is another feeling in me which +I must not conceal from you. When I remember Lord Harry's noble conduct +in trying to save poor Arthur, I cannot believe him capable of such +hateful deceit as consenting to our separation, and then having me +secretly watched by a spy. What monstrous inconsistency! Can anybody +believe it? Can anybody account for it?" + +"I think I can account for it, Iris, if you will let me make the +attempt. You are mistaken to begin with." + +"How am I mistaken?" + +"You shall see. There is no such creature as a perfectly consistent +human being on the face of the earth--and, strange as it may seem to +you, the human beings themselves are not aware of it. The reason for +this curious state of things is not far to seek. How can people who are +ignorant--as we see every day--of their own characters be capable of +correctly estimating the characters of others? Even the influence of +their religion fails to open their eyes to the truth. In the Prayer +which is the most precious possession of Christendom, their lips repeat +the entreaty that they may not be led into temptation--but their minds +fail to draw the inference. If that pathetic petition means anything, +it means that virtuous men and women are capable of becoming vicious +men and women, if a powerful temptation puts them to the test. Every +Sunday, devout members of the congregation in church--models of +excellence in their own estimation, and in the estimation of their +neighbours--declare that they have done those things which they ought +not to have done, and that there is no health in them. Will you believe +that they are encouraged by their Prayer-books to present this sad +exposure of the frailty of their own admirable characters? How +inconsistent--and yet how entirely true! Lord Harry, as you rightly +say, behaved nobly in trying to save my dear lost brother. He ought, as +you think, and as other people think, to be consistently noble, after +that, in all his thoughts and actions, to the end of his life. Suppose +that temptation does try him--such temptation, Iris, as you innocently +present--why doesn't he offer a superhuman resistance? You might as +well ask, Why is he a mortal man? How inconsistent, how improbable, +that he should have tendencies to evil in him, as well as tendencies to +good! Ah, I see you don't like this. It would be infinitely more +agreeable (wouldn't it?) if Lord Harry was one of the entirely +consistent characters which are sometimes presented in works of +fiction. Our good English readers are charmed with the man, the woman, +or the child, who is introduced to them by the kind novelist as a being +without faults. Do they stop to consider whether this is a true picture +of humanity? It would be a terrible day for the book if they ever did +that. But the book is in no danger. The readers would even fail to +discover the falseness of the picture, if they were presented to +themselves as perfect characters. 'We mustn't say so, but how +wonderfully like us!' There would be the only impression produced. I am +not trying to dishearten you; I want to encourage you to look at +humanity from a wider and truer point of view. Do not be too readily +depressed, if you find your faith shaken in a person whom you have +hitherto believed to be good. That person has been led into temptation. +Wait till time shows you that the evil influence is not everlasting, +and that the good influence will inconsistently renew your faith out of +the very depths of your despair. Humanity, in general, is neither +perfectly good nor perfectly wicked: take it as you find it. Is this a +hard lesson to learn? Well! it's easy to do what other people do, under +similar circumstances. Listen to the unwelcome truth to-day, my dear; +and forget it to-morrow." + +They parted at the door of the inn. + +CHAPTER V + +THE GAME: MOUNTJOY PLAYS A NEW CARD + +MR. VIMPANY (of the College of Surgeons) was a burly man, heavily built +from head to foot. His bold round eyes looked straight at his +fellow-creatures with an expression of impudent good humour; his +whiskers were bushy, his hands were big, his lips were thick, his legs +were solid. Add to this a broad sunburnt face, and a grey coat with +wide tails, a waistcoat with a check pattern, and leather +riding-gaiters--and no stranger could have failed to mistake Mr. +Vimpany for a farmer of the old school. He was proud of the false +impression that he created. "Nature built me to be a farmer," he used +to say. "But my poor foolish old mother was a lady by birth, and she +insisted on her son being a professional man. I hadn't brains for the +Law, or money for the Army, or morals for the Church. And here I am a +country doctor--the one representative of slavery left in the +nineteenth century. You may not believe me, but I never see a labourer +at the plough that I don't envy him." + +This was the husband of the elegant lady with the elaborate manners. +This was the man who received Mountjoy with a "Glad to see you, sir," +and a shake of the hand that hurt him. + +"Coarse fare," said Mr. Vimpany, carving a big joint of beef; "but I +can't afford anything better. Only a pudding to follow, and a glass of +glorious old sherry. Miss Henley is good enough to excuse it--and my +wife's used to it--and you will put up with it, Mr. Mountjoy, if you +are half as amiable as you look. I'm an old-fashioned man. The pleasure +of a glass of wine with you, sir." + +Hugh's first experience of the "glorious old sherry" led him to a +discovery, which proved to be more important than he was disposed to +consider it at the moment. He merely observed, with some amusement, +that Mr. Vimpany smacked his lips in hearty approval of the worst +sherry that his guest had ever tasted. Here, plainly self-betrayed, was +a medical man who was an exception to a general rule in the +profession--here was a doctor ignorant of the difference between good +wine and bad! + +Both the ladies were anxious to know how Mountjoy had passed the night +at the inn. He had only time to say that there was nothing to complain +of, when Mr. Vimpany burst into an explosion of laughter. + +"Oh, but you must have had something to complain of!" said the big +doctor. "I would bet a hundred, if I could afford it, that the landlady +tried to poison you with her sour French wine." + +"Do you speak of the claret at the inn, after having tasted it?" +Mountjoy asked. + +"What do you take me for?" cried Mr. Vimpany. "After all I have heard +of that claret, I am not fool enough to try it myself, I can tell you." +Mountjoy received this answer in silence. The doctor's ignorance and +the doctor's prejudice, in the matter of wine, had started a new train +of thought in Hugh's mind, which threatened serious consequences to Mr. +Vimpany himself. There was a pause at the table; nobody spoke. The +doctor saw condemnation of his rudeness expressed in his wife's face. +He made a rough apology to Mountjoy, who was still preoccupied. "No +offence, I hope? It's in the nature of me, sir, to speak my mind. If I +could fawn and flatter, I should have got on better in my profession. +I'm what they call a rough diamond. No, offence, I say?" + +"None whatever, Mr. Vimpany." + +"That's right! Try another glass of sherry." + +Mountjoy took the sherry. + +Iris looked at him, lost in surprise. It was unlike Hugh to be +interested in a stranger's opinion of wine. It was unlike him to drink +wine which was evidently not to his taste. And it was especially unlike +his customary courtesy to let himself fall into thought at dinner-time, +when there were other persons at the table. Was he ill? Impossible to +look at him, and not see that he was in perfect health. What did it +mean? + +Finding Mountjoy inattentive, Mr. Vimpany addressed himself to Iris. + +"I had to ride hard, Miss Henley, to get home in time for dinner. There +are patients, I must tell you, who send for the doctor, and then seem +to think they know more about it than the very man whom they have +called in to cure them. It isn't he who tells them what their illness +is; it's they who tell him. They dispute about the medical treatment +that's best for them, and the one thing they are never tired of doing +is talking about their symptoms. It was an old man's gabble that kept +me late to-day. However, the Squire, as they call him in these parts, +is a patient with a long purse; I am obliged to submit." + +"A gentleman of the old school, dear Miss Henley," Mrs. Vimpany +explained. "Immensely rich. Is he better?" she asked, turning to her +husband. + +"Better?" cried the outspoken doctor. "Pooh! there's nothing the matter +with him but gluttony. He went to London, and consulted a great man, a +humbug with a handle to his name. The famous physician got rid of him +in no time--sent him abroad to boil himself in foreign baths. He came +home again worse than ever, and consulted poor Me. I found him at +dinner--a perfect feast, I give you my word of honour!--and the old +fool gorging himself till he was black in the face. His wine, I should +have said, was not up to the mark; wanted body and flavour, you know. +Ah, Mr. Mountjoy, this seems to interest you; reminds you of the +landlady's wine--eh? Well, sir, how do you think I treated the Squire? +Emptied his infirm old inside with an emetic--and there he was on his +legs again. Whenever he overeats himself he sends for me; and pays +liberally. I ought to be grateful to him, and I am. Upon my soul, I +believe I should be in the bankruptcy court but for the Squire's +stomach. Look at my wife! She's shocked at me. We ought to keep up +appearances, my dear? Not I! When I am poor, I say I am poor. When I +cure a patient, I make no mystery of it; everybody's welcome to know +how it's done. Don't be down-hearted, Arabella; nature never meant your +husband for a doctor, and there's the long and the short of it. Another +glass of sherry, Mr. Mountjoy?" + +All social ceremonies--including the curious English custom which sends +the ladies upstairs, after dinner, and leaves the gentlemen at the +table--found a devoted adherent in Mrs. Vimpany. She rose as if she had +been presiding at a banquet, and led Miss Henley affectionately to the +drawing-room. Iris glanced at Hugh. No; his mind was not at ease yet; +the preoccupied look had not left his face. + +Jovial Mr. Vimpany pushed the bottle across the table to his guest, and +held out a handful of big black cigars. + +"Now for the juice of the grape," he cried, "and the best cigar in all +England!" + +He had just filled his glass, and struck a light for his cigar, when +the servant came in with a note. Some men relieve their sense of +indignation in one way, and some in another. The doctor's form of +relief was an oath. "Talk about slavery!" he shouted. "Find me such a +slave in all Africa as a man in my profession. There isn't an hour of +the day or night that he can call his own. Here's a stupid old woman +with an asthma, who has got another spasmodic attack--and I must leave +my dinner-table and my friend, just as we are enjoying ourselves. I +have half a mind not to go." + +The inattentive guest suddenly set himself right in his host's +estimation. Hugh remonstrated with an appearance of interest in the +case, which the doctor interpreted as a compliment to himself: "Oh, Mr. +Vimpany, humanity! humanity!" + +"Oh, Mr. Mountjoy, money! money!" the facetious doctor answered. "The +old lady is our Mayor's mother, sir. You don't seem to be quick at +taking a joke. Make your mind easy; I shall pocket my fee." + +As soon as he had closed the door, Hugh Mountjoy uttered a devout +ejaculation. "Thank God!" he said--and walked up and down the room, +free to think without interruption at last. + +The subject of his meditations was the influence of intoxication in +disclosing the hidden weaknesses and vices of a man's character by +exhibiting them just as they are, released from the restraint which he +exercises over himself when he is sober. That there was a weak side, +and probably a vicious side, in Mr. Vimpany's nature it was hardly +possible to doubt. His blustering good humour, his audacious +self-conceit, the tones of his voice, the expression in his eyes, all +revealed him (to use one expressive word) as a humbug. Let drink subtly +deprive him of his capacity for self-concealment! and the true nature +of his wife's association with Lord Harry might sooner or later show +itself--say, in after-dinner talk, under skilful management. The right +method of entrapping him into a state of intoxication (which might have +presented serious difficulties under other circumstances) was +suggested, partly by his ignorance of the difference between good wine +and bad, and partly by Mountjoy's knowledge of the excellent quality of +the landlady's claret. He had recognised, as soon as he tasted it, that +finest vintage of Bordeaux, which conceals its true strength--to a +gross and ignorant taste--under the exquisite delicacy of its flavour. +Encourage Mr. Vimpany by means of a dinner at the inn, to give his +opinion as a man whose judgment in claret was to be seriously +consulted--and permit him also to discover that Hugh was rich enough to +have been able to buy the wine--and the attainment of the end in view +would be simply a question of time. There was certainly the chance to +be reckoned with, that his thick head might prove to be too strong for +the success of the experiment. Mountjoy determined to try it, and did +try it nevertheless. + +Mr. Vimpany returned from his medical errand, thoroughly well satisfied +with himself. + +"The Mayor's mother has reason to thank you, sir," he announced. "If +you hadn't hurried me away, the wretched old creature would have been +choked. A regular stand-up fight, by Jupiter, between death and the +doctor!--and the doctor has won! Give me the reward of merit. Pass the +bottle." + +He took up the decanter, and looked at it. + +"Why, what have you been about?" he asked. "I made up my mind that I +should want the key of the cellar when I came back, and I don't believe +you have drunk a drop in my absence. What does it mean?" + +"It means that I am not worthy of your sherry," Mountjoy answered. "The +Spanish wines are too strong for my weak digestion." + +Mr. Vimpany burst into one of his explosions of laughter. "You miss the +landlady's vinegar--eh?" + +"Yes, I do! Wait a minute, doctor; I have a word to say on my +side--and, like you, I mean what I say. The landlady's vinegar is some +of the finest Chateau Margaux I have ever met with--thrown away on +ignorant people who are quite unworthy of it." + +The doctor's natural insolence showed itself. "You have bought this +wonderful wine, of course?" he said satirically. + +"That," Mountjoy answered, "is just what I have done." + +For once in his life, Mr. Vimpany's self-sufficient readiness of speech +failed him. He stared at his guest in dumb amazement. On this occasion, +Mountjoy improved the opportunity to good purpose. Mr. Vimpany accepted +with the utmost readiness an invitation to dine on the next day at the +inn. But he made a condition. "In case I don't agree with you about +that Chateau--what-you-call-it," he said, "you won't mind my sending +home for a bottle of sherry?" + +The next event of the day was a visit to the most interesting monument +of antiquity in the town. In the absence of the doctor, caused by +professional engagements, Miss Henley took Mountjoy to see the old +church--and Mrs. Vimpany accompanied them, as a mark of respect to Miss +Henley's friend. + +When there was a chance of being able to speak confidentially, Iris was +eager in praising the doctor's wife. "You can't imagine, Hugh, how +agreeable she has been, and how entirely she has convinced me that I +was wrong, shamefully wrong, in thinking of her as I did. She sees that +you dislike her, and yet she speaks so nicely of you. 'Your clever +friend enjoys your society,' she said; 'pray accompany me when I take +him to see the church.' How unselfish!" + +Mountjoy kept his own counsel. The generous impulses which sometimes +led Iris astray were, as he well knew, beyond the reach of +remonstrance. His own opinion of Mrs. Vimpany still pronounced steadily +against her. Prepared for discoveries, on the next day, which might +prove too serious to be trifled with, he now did his best to provide +for future emergencies. + +After first satisfying himself that there was nothing in the present +state of the maid's health which need detain her mistress at +Honeybuzzard, he next completed his preparations by returning to the +inn, and writing to Mr. Henley. With strict regard to truth, his letter +presented the daughter's claim on the father under a new point of view. +Whatever the end of it might be, Mr. Henley was requested to +communicate his intentions by telegraph. Will you receive Iris? was the +question submitted. The answer expected was: Yes or No. + +CHAPTER VI + +THE GAME: MOUNTJOY WINS + +MR. HENLEY's telegram arrived at the inn the next morning. + +He was willing to receive his daughter, but not unreservedly. The +message was characteristic of the man: "Yes--on trial." Mountjoy was +not shocked, was not even surprised. He knew that the successful +speculations, by means of which Mr. Henley had accumulated his wealth, +had raised against him enemies, who had spread scandalous reports which +had never been completely refuted. The silent secession of friends, in +whose fidelity he trusted, had hardened the man's heart and embittered +his nature. Strangers in distress, who appealed to the rich retired +merchant for help, found in their excellent references to character the +worst form of persuasion that they could have adopted. Paupers without +a rag of reputation left to cover them, were the objects of charity +whom Mr. Henley relieved. When he was asked to justify his conduct, he +said: "I have a sympathy with bad characters---I am one of them +myself." + +With the arrival of the dinner hour the doctor appeared, in no very +amiable humour, at the inn. + +"Another hard day's work," he said; "I should sink under it, if I +hadn't a prospect of getting rid of my practice here. London--or the +neighbourhood of London--there's the right place for a man like Me. +Well? Where's the wonderful wine? Mind! I'm Tom-Tell-Truth; if I don't +like your French tipple, I shall say so." + +The inn possessed no claret glasses; they drank the grand wine in +tumblers as if it had been vin ordinaire. + +Mr. Vimpany showed that he was acquainted with the formalities proper +to the ceremony of tasting. He filled his makeshift glass, he held it +up to the light, and looked at the wine severely; he moved the tumbler +to and fro under his nose, and smelt at it again and again; he paused +and reflected; he tasted the claret as cautiously as if he feared it +might be poisoned; he smacked his lips, and emptied his glass at a +draught; lastly, he showed some consideration for his host's anxiety, +and pronounced sentence on the wine. + +"Not so good as you think it, sir. But nice light claret; clean and +wholesome. I hope you haven't given too much for it?" + +Thus far, Hugh had played a losing game patiently. His reward had come +at last. After what the doctor had just said to him, he saw the winning +card safe in his own hand. + +The bad dinner was soon over. No soup, of course; fish, in the state of +preservation usually presented by a decayed country town; steak that +rivalled the toughness of india-rubber; potatoes whose aspect said, +"stranger, don't eat us"; pudding that would have produced a sense of +discouragement, even in the mind of a child; and the famous English +cheese which comes to us, oddly enough, from the United States, and +stings us vindictively when we put it into our mouths. But the wine, +the glorious wine, would have made amends to anybody but Mr. Vimpany +for the woeful deficiencies of the food. Tumbler-full after +tumbler-full of that noble vintage poured down his thirsty and ignorant +throat; and still he persisted in declaring that it was nice light +stuff, and still he unforgivingly bore in mind the badness of the +dinner. + +"The feeding here," said this candid man, "is worse if possible than +the feeding at sea, when I served as doctor on board a passenger- +steamer. Shall I tell you how I lost my place? Oh, say so plainly, if +you don't think my little anecdote worth listening to!" + +"My dear sir, I am waiting to hear it." + +"Very good. No offence, I hope? That's right! Well, sir, the captain of +the ship complained of me to the owners; I wouldn't go round, every +morning, and knock at the ladies' cabin-doors, and ask how they felt +after a sea-sick night. Who doesn't know what they feel, without +knocking at their doors? Let them send for the doctor when they want +him. That was how I understood my duty; and there was the line of +conduct that lost me my place. Pass the wine. Talking of ladies, what +do you think of my wife? Did you ever see such distinguished manners +before? My dear fellow, I have taken a fancy to you. Shake hands. I'll +tell you another little anecdote. Where do you think my wife picked up +her fashionable airs and graces? Ho! ho! On the stage! The highest +branch of the profession, sir--a tragic actress. If you had seen her in +Lady Macbeth, Mrs. Vimpany would have made your flesh creep. Look at +me, and feast your eyes on a man who is above hypocritical objections +to the theatre. Haven't I proved it by marrying an actress? But we +don't mention it here. The savages in this beastly place wouldn't +employ me, if they knew I had married a stage-player. Hullo! The +bottle's empty again. Ha! here's another bottle, full. I love a man who +has always got a full bottle to offer his friend. Shake hands. I say, +Mountjoy, tell me on your sacred word of honour, can you keep a secret? +My wife's secret, sir! Stop! let me look at you again. I thought I saw +you smile. If a man smiles at me, when I am opening my whole heart to +him, by the living jingo, I would knock that man down at his own table! +What? you didn't smile? I apologise. Your hand again; I drink your +health in your own good wine. Where was I? What was I talking about?" + +Mountjoy carefully humoured his interesting guest. + +"You were about to honour me," he said, "by taking me into your +confidence." Mr. Vimpany stared in tipsy bewilderment. Mountjoy tried +again in plainer language: "You were going to tell me a secret." + +This time, the doctor grasped the idea. He looked round cunningly to +the door. "Any eavesdroppers?" he asked. "Hush! Whisper--this is +serious--whisper! What was it I was going to tell you? What was the +secret, old boy?" + +Mountjoy answered a little too readily: "I think it related to Mrs. +Vimpany." + +Mrs. Vimpany's husband threw himself back in his chair, snatched a +dirty handkerchief out of his pocket, and began to cry. + +"Here's a false friend!" the creature whimpered. "Asks me to dinner, +and takes advantage of my dependent situation to insult my wife. The +loveliest of women, the sweetest of women, the innocentest of women. +Oh, my wife! my wife!" He suddenly threw his handkerchief to the other +end of the room, and burst out laughing. "Ho! ho! Mountjoy, what an +infernal fool you must be to take me seriously. I can act, too. Do you +think I care about my wife? She was a fine woman once: she's a bundle +of old rags now. But she has her merits. Hush! I want to know +something. Have you got a lord among your circle of acquaintance?" + +Experience made Mountjoy more careful; perhaps a little too careful. He +only said "Yes." + +The doctor's dignity asserted itself. "That's a short answer, sir, to a +man in my position. If you want me to believe you, mention your +friend's name." + +Here was a chance at last! "His name;" Mountjoy began, "is Lord +Harry--" + +Mr. Vimpany lost his dignity in an instant. He struck his heavy fist on +the table, with a blow that made the tumblers jump. + +"Coincidence!" he cried. "How wonderful--no; that's not the +word--providential is the word--how providential are coincidences! I +mean, of course, to a rightly constituted mind. Let nobody contradict +me! When I say a rightly constituted mind I speak seriously; and a +young man like you will be all the better for it. Mountjoy! dear +Mountjoy! jolly Mountjoy! my wife's lord is your lord--Lord Harry. No; +none of your nonsense--I won't have any more wine. Yes, I will; it +might hurt your feelings if I didn't drink with you. Pass the bottle. +Ha! That's a nice ring you've got on your finger. Perhaps you think it +valuable? It's nothing, sir; it's dross, it's dirt, compared to my +wife's diamond pin! There's a jewel, if you like! It will be worth a +fortune to us when we sell it. A gift, dear sir! I'm afraid I've been +too familiar with you. Speaking as a born gentleman, I beg to present +my respects, and I call you 'dear sir.' Did I tell you the diamond pin +was a gift? It's nothing of the sort; we are under no obligation; my +wife, my admirable wife, has earned that diamond pin. By registered +post; and what I call a manly letter from Lord Harry. He is deeply +obliged (I give you the sense of it) by what my wife has done for him; +ready money is scarce with my lord; he sends a family jewel, with his +love. Oh, I'm not jealous. He's welcome to love Mrs. Vimpany, in her +old age, if he likes. Did you say that, sir? Did you say that Lord +Harry, or any man, was welcome to love Mrs. Vimpany? I have a great +mind to throw this bottle at your head. No, I won't; it's wasting good +wine! How kind of you to give me good wine. Who are you? I don't like +dining with a stranger. Do you know any friend of mine? Do you know a +man named Mountjoy? Do you know two men named Mountjoy? No: you don't. +One of them is dead: killed by those murdering scoundrels what do you +call them? Eh, what?" The doctor's voice began to falter, his head +dropped; he slumbered suddenly and woke suddenly, and began talking +again suddenly. "Would you like to be made acquainted with Lord Harry? +I'll give you a sketch of his character before I introduce him. Between +ourselves, he's a desperate wretch. Do you know why he employed my +wife, my admirable wife? You will agree with me; he ought to have +looked after his young woman himself. We've got his young woman safe in +our house. A nice girl. Not my style; my medical knowledge certifies +she's cold-blooded. Lord Harry has only to come over here and find her. +Why the devil doesn't he come? What is it keeps him in Ireland? Do you +know? I seem to have forgotten. My own belief is I've got softening of +the brain. What's good for softening of the brain? There isn't a doctor +living who won't tell you the right remedy--wine. Pass the wine. If +this claret is worth a farthing, it's worth a guinea a bottle. I ask +you in confidence; did you ever hear of such a fool as my wife's lord? +His name escapes me. No matter; he stops in Ireland--hunting. Hunting +what? The fox? Nothing so noble; hunting assassins. He's got some +grudge against one of them. Means to kill one of them. A word in your +ear; they'll kill him. Do you ever bet? Five to one, he's a dead man +before the end of the week. When is the end of the week? Tuesday, +Wednesday--no, Saturday--that's the beginning of the week--no, it +isn't--the beginning of the week isn't the Sabbath--Sunday, of +course--we are not Christians, we are Jews--I mean we are Jews, we are +not Christians--I mean--" + +The claret got the better of his tongue, at last. He mumbled and +muttered; he sank back in his chair; he chuckled; he hiccupped; he fell +asleep. + +All and more than all that Mountjoy feared, he had now discovered. In a +state of sobriety, the doctor was probably one of those men who are +always ready to lie. In a state of intoxication the utterances of his +drunken delirium might unconsciously betray the truth. The reason which +he had given for Lord Harry's continued absence in Ireland, could not +be wisely rejected as unworthy of belief. It was in the reckless nature +of the wild lord to put his own life in peril, in the hope of revenging +Arthur Mountjoy on the wretch who had killed him. Taking this bad news +for granted, was there any need to distress Iris by communicating the +motive which detained Lord Harry in his own country? Surely not! + +And, again, was there any immediate advantage to be gained by revealing +the true character of Mrs. Vimpany, as a spy, and, worse still, a spy +who was paid? In her present state of feeling, Iris would, in all +probability, refuse to believe it. + +Arriving at these conclusions, Hugh looked at the doctor snoring and +choking in an easy-chair. He had not wasted the time and patience +devoted to the stratagem which had now successfully reached its end. +After what he had just heard--thanks to the claret--he could not +hesitate to accomplish the speedy removal of Iris from Mr. Vimpany's +house; using her father's telegram as the only means of persuasion on +which it was possible to rely. Mountjoy left the inn without ceremony, +and hurried away to Iris in the hope of inducing her to return to +London with him that night. + +CHAPTER VII + +DOCTORING THE DOCTOR + +ASKING for Miss Henley at the doctor's door, Hugh was informed that she +had gone out, with her invalid maid, for a walk. She had left word, if +Mr. Mountjoy called in her absence, to beg that he would kindly wait +for her return. + +On his way up to the drawing-room, Mountjoy heard Mrs. Vimpany's +sonorous voice occupied, as he supposed, in reading aloud. The door +being opened for him, he surprised her, striding up and down the room +with a book in her hand; grandly declaiming without anybody to applaud +her. After what Hugh had already heard, he could only conclude that +reminiscences of her theatrical career had tempted the solitary actress +to make a private appearance, for her own pleasure, in one of those +tragic characters to which her husband had alluded. She recovered her +self-possession on Mountjoy's appearance, with the ease of a mistress +of her art. "Pardon me," she said, holding up her book with one hand, +and tapping it indicatively with the other: "Shakespeare carries me out +of myself. A spark of the poet's fire burns in the poet's humble +servant. May I hope that I have made myself understood? You look as if +you had a fellow-feeling for me." + +Mountjoy did his best to fill the sympathetic part assigned to him, and +only succeeded in showing what a bad actor he would have been, if he +had gone on the stage. Under the sedative influence thus administered, +Mrs. Vimpany put away her book, and descended at once from the highest +poetry to the lowest prose. + +"Let us return to domestic events," she said indulgently. "Have the +people at the inn given you a good dinner?" + +"The people did their best," Mountjoy answered cautiously. + +"Has my husband returned with you?" Mrs. Vimpany went on. + +Mountjoy began to regret that he had not waited for Iris in the street. +He was obliged to acknowledge that the doctor had not returned with +him. + +"Where is Mr. Vimpany?" + +"At the inn." + +"What is he doing there?" + +Mountjoy hesitated. Mrs. Vimpany rose again into the regions of tragic +poetry. She stepped up to him, as if he had been Macbeth, and she was +ready to use the daggers. "I understand but too well," she declared in +terrible tones. "My wretched husband's vices are known to me. Mr. +Vimpany is intoxicated." + +Hugh tried to make the best of it. "Only asleep," he said. Mrs. Vimpany +looked at him once more. This time, it was Queen Katharine looking at +Cardinal Wolsey. She bowed with lofty courtesy, and opened the door. "I +have occasion," she said, "to go out"----and made an exit. + +Five minutes later, Mountjoy (standing at the window, impatiently on +the watch for the return of Iris) saw Mrs. Vimpany in the street. She +entered a chemist's shop, on the opposite side of the way, and came out +again with a bottle in her hand. It was enclosed in the customary +medical wrapping of white paper. Majestically, she passed out of sight. +If Hugh had followed her he would have traced the doctor's wife to the +door of the inn. + +The unemployed waiter was on the house-steps, looking about him--with +nothing to see. He made his bow to Mrs. Vimpany, and informed her that +the landlady had gone out. + +"You will do as well," was the reply. "Is Mr. Vimpany here?" + +The waiter smiled, and led the way through the passage to the foot of +the stairs. "You can hear him, ma'am." It was quite true; Mr. Vimpany's +snoring answered for Mr. Vimpany. His wife ascended the first two or +three stairs, and stopped to speak again to the waiter. She asked what +the two gentlemen had taken to drink with their dinner. They had taken +"the French wine." + +"And nothing else?" + +The waiter ventured on a little joke. "Nothing else," he said--"and +more than enough of it, too." + +"Not more than enough, I suppose, for the good of the house," Mrs. +Vimpany remarked. + +"I beg your pardon, ma'am; the claret the two gentlemen drank is not +charged for in the bill." + +"What do you mean?" + +The waiter explained that Mr. Mountjoy had purchased the whole stock of +the wine. Suspicion, as well as surprise, appeared in Mrs. Vimpany's +face. She had hitherto thought it likely that Miss Henley's +gentleman-like friend might be secretly in love with the young lady. +Her doubts of him, now, took a wider range of distrust. She went on up +the stairs by herself, and banged the door of the private room as the +easiest means of waking the sleeping man. To the utmost noise that she +could make in this way, he was perfectly impenetrable. For a while she +waited, looking at him across the table with unutterable contempt. + +There was the man to whom the religion of the land and the law of the +land, acting together in perfect harmony, had fettered her for life! +Some women, in her position, might have wasted time in useless +self-reproach. Mrs. Vimpany reviewed her miserable married life with +the finest mockery of her own misfortune. "Virtue," she said to +herself, "is its own reward." + +Glancing with careless curiosity at the disorder of the dinner-table, +she noticed some wine still left in the bottom of her husband's glass. +Had artificial means been used to reduce him to his present condition? +She tasted the claret. No; there was nothing in the flavour of it which +betrayed that he had been drugged. If the waiter was to be believed, he +had only drunk claret--and there he was, in a state of helpless +stupefaction, nevertheless. + +She looked again at the dinner-table, and discovered one, among the +many empty bottles, with some wine still left in it. After a moment of +reflection, she took a clean tumbler from the sideboard. + +Here was the wine which had been an object of derision to Mr. Vimpany +and his friends. They were gross feeders and drinkers; and it might not +be amiss to put their opinions to the test. She was not searching for +the taste of a drug now; her present experiment proposed to try the +wine on its own merits. + +At the time of her triumphs on the country stage--before the date of +her unlucky marriage--rich admirers had entertained the handsome +actress at suppers, which offered every luxury that the most perfect +table could supply. Experience had made her acquainted with the flavour +of the finest claret--and that experience was renewed by the claret +which she was now tasting. It was easy to understand why Mr. Mountjoy +had purchased the wine; and, after a little thinking, his motive for +inviting Mr. Vimpany to dinner seemed to be equally plain. Foiled in +their first attempt at discovery by her own prudence and tact, his +suspicions had set their trap. Her gross husband had been tempted to +drink, and to talk at random (for Mr. Mountjoy's benefit) in a state of +intoxication! + +What secrets might the helpless wretch not have betrayed before the +wine had completely stupefied him? + +Urged by rage and fear, she shook him furiously. He woke; he glared at +her with bloodshot eyes; he threatened her with his clenched fist. +There was but one way of lifting his purblind stupidity to the light. +She appealed to his experience of himself, on many a former occasion: +"You fool, you have been drinking again--and there's a patient waiting +for you." To that dilemma he was accustomed; the statement of it +partially roused him. Mrs. Vimpany tore off the paper wrapping, and +opened the medicine-bottle which she had brought with her. + +He stared at it; he muttered to himself: "Is she going to poison me?" +She seized his head with one hand, and held the open bottle to his +nose. "Your own prescription," she cried, "for yourself and your +hateful friends." + +His nose told him what words might have tried vainly to say: he +swallowed the mixture. "If I lose the patient," he muttered oracularly, +"I lose the money." His resolute wife dragged him out of his chair. The +second door in the dining-room led into an empty bed-chamber. With her +help, he got into the room, and dropped on the bed. + +Mrs. Vimpany consulted her watch. + +On many a former occasion she had learnt what interval of repose was +required, before the sobering influence of the mixture could +successfully assert itself. For the present, she had only to return to +the other room. The waiter presented himself, asking if there was +anything he could do for her. Familiar with the defective side of her +husband's character, he understood what it meant when she pointed to +the bedroom door. "The old story, ma'am," he said, with an air of +respectful sympathy. "Can I get you a cup of tea?" + +Mrs. Vimpany accepted the tea, and enjoyed it thoughtfully. + +She had two objects in view--to be revenged on Mountjoy, and to find a +way of forcing him to leave the town before he could communicate his +discoveries to Iris. How to reach these separate ends, by one and the +same means, was still the problem which she was trying to solve, when +the doctor's coarse voice was audible, calling for somebody to come to +him. + +If his head was only clear enough, by this time, to understand the +questions which she meant to put, his answers might suggest the idea of +which she was in search. Rising with alacrity, Mrs. Vimpany returned to +the bed-chamber. + +"You miserable creature," she began, "are you sober now?" + +"I'm as sober as you are." + +"Do you know," she went on, "why Mr. Mountjoy asked you to dine with +him?" + +"Because he's my friend." + +"He is your worst enemy. Hold your tongue! I'll explain what I mean +directly. Rouse your memory, if you have got a memory left. I want to +know what you and Mr. Mountjoy talked about after dinner." + +He stared at her helplessly. She tried to find her way to his +recollection by making suggestive inquiries. It was useless; he only +complained of being thirsty. His wife lost her self-control. She was +too furiously angry with him to be able to remain in the room. +Recovering her composure when she was alone, she sent for soda-water +and brandy. Her one chance of making him useful was to humour his vile +temper; she waited on him herself. + +In some degree, the drink cleared his muddled head. Mrs. Vimpany tried +his memory once more. Had he said this? Had he said that? Yes: he +thought it likely. Had he, or had Mr. Mountjoy, mentioned Lord Harry's +name? A glimmer of intelligence showed itself in his stupid eyes. +Yes--and they had quarrelled about it: he rather thought he had thrown +a bottle at Mr. Mountjoy's head. Had they, either of them, said +anything about Miss Henley? Oh, of course! What was it? He was unable +to remember. Had his wife done bothering him, now? + +"Not quite," she replied. "Try to understand what I am going to say to +you. If Lord Harry comes to us while Miss Henley is in our house--" + +He interrupted her: "That's your business." + +"Wait a little. It's my business, if I hear beforehand that his +lordship is coming. But he is quite reckless enough to take us by +surprise. In that case, I want you to make yourself useful. If you +happen to be at home, keep him from seeing Miss Henley until I have +seen her first." + +"Why?" + +"I want an opportunity, my dear, of telling Miss Henley that I have +been wicked enough to deceive her, before she finds it out for herself. +I may hope she will forgive me, if I confess everything." + +The doctor laughed: "What the devil does it matter whether she forgives +you or not?" + +"It matters a great deal." + +"Why, you talk as if you were fond of her!" + +"I am." + +The doctor's clouded intelligence was beginning to clear; he made a +smart reply: "Fond of her, and deceiving her--aha!" + +"Yes," she said quietly, "that's just what it is. It has grown on me, +little by little; I can't help liking Miss Henley." + +"Well," Mr. Vimpany remarked, "you _are_ a fool!" He looked at her +cunningly. "Suppose I do make myself useful, what am I to gain by it?" + +"Let us get back," she suggested, "to the gentleman who invited you to +dinner, and made you tipsy for his own purposes." + +"I'll break every bone in his skin!" + +"Don't talk nonsense! Leave Mr. Mountjoy to me." + +"Do _you_ take his part? I can tell you this. If I drank too much of +that poisonous French stuff, Mountjoy set me the example. He was +tipsy--as you call it--shamefully tipsy, I give you my word of honour. +What's the matter now?" + +His wife (so impenetrably cool, thus far) had suddenly become excited. +There was not the smallest fragment of truth in what he had just said +of Hugh, and Mrs. Vimpany was not for a moment deceived by it. But the +lie had, accidentally, one merit--it suggested to her the idea which +she had vainly tried to find over her cup of tea. "Suppose I show you +how you may be revenged on Mr. Mountjoy," she said. + +"Well?" + +"Will you remember what I asked you to do for me, if Lord Harry takes +us by surprise?" + +He produced his pocket-diary, and told her to make a memorandum of it. +She wrote as briefly as if she had been writing a telegram: "Keep Lord +Harry from seeing Miss Henley, till I have seen her first." + +"Now," she said, taking a chair by the bedside, "you shall know what a +clever wife you have got. Listen to me." + +CHAPTER VIII + +HER FATHER'S MESSAGE + +LOOKING out of the drawing-room window, for the tenth time at least, +Mountjoy at last saw Iris in the street, returning to the house. + +She brought the maid with her into the drawing-room, in the gayest of +good spirits, and presented Rhoda to Mountjoy. + +"What a blessing a good long walk is, if we only knew it!" she +exclaimed. "Look at my little maid's colour! Who would suppose that she +came here with heavy eyes and pale cheeks? Except that she loses her +way in the town, whenever she goes out alone, we have every reason to +congratulate ourselves on our residence at Honeybuzzard. The doctor is +Rhoda's good genius, and the doctor's wife is her fairy godmother." + +Mountjoy's courtesy having offered the customary congratulations, the +maid was permitted to retire; and Iris was free to express her +astonishment at the friendly relations established (by means of the +dinner-table) between the two most dissimilar men on the face of +creation. + +"There is something overwhelming," she declared, "in the bare idea of +your having asked him to dine with you--on such a short acquaintance, +and being such a man! I should like to have peeped in, and seen you +entertaining your guest with the luxuries of the hotel larder. +Seriously, Hugh, your social sympathies have taken a range for which I +was not prepared. After the example that you have set me, I feel +ashamed of having doubted whether Mr. Vimpany was worthy of his +charming wife. Don't suppose that I am ungrateful to the doctor! He has +found his way to my regard, after what he has done for Rhoda. I only +fail to understand how he has possessed himself of _your_ sympathies." + +So she ran on, enjoying the exercise of her own sense of humour in +innocent ignorance of the serious interests which she was deriding. + +Mountjoy tried to stop her, and tried in vain. + +"No, no," she persisted as mischievously as ever, "the subject is too +interesting to be dismissed. I am dying to know how you and your guest +got through the dinner. Did he take more wine than was good for him? +And, when he forgot his good manners, did he set it all right again by +saying, 'No offence,' and passing the bottle?" + +Hugh could endure it no longer. "Pray control your high spirits for a +moment," he said. "I have news for you from home." + +Those words put an end to her outbreak of gaiety, in an instant. + +"News from my father?" she asked. + +"Yes." + +"Is he coming here?" + +"No; I have heard from him." + +"A letter?" + +"A telegram," Mountjoy explained, "in answer to a letter from me. I did +my best to press your claims on him, and I am glad to say I have not +failed." + +"Hugh, dear Hugh! have you succeeded in reconciling us?" + +Mountjoy produced the telegram. "I asked Mr. Henley," he said, "to let +me know at once whether he would receive you, and to answer plainly Yes +or No. The message might have been more kindly expressed--but, at any +rate, it is a favourable reply." + +Iris read the telegram. "Is there another father in the world," she +said sadly, "who would tell his daughter, when she asks to come home, +that he will receive her on trial?" + +"Surely, you are not offended with him, Iris?" + +She shook her head. "I am like you," she said. "I know him too well to +be offended. He shall find me dutiful, he shall find me patient. I am +afraid I must not expect you to wait for me in Honeybuzzard. Will you +tell my father that I hope to return to him in a week's time?" + +"Pardon me, Iris, I see no reason why you should waste a week in this +town. On the contrary, the more eager you show yourself to return to +your father, the more likely you are to recover your place in his +estimation. I had planned to take you home by the next train." + +Iris looked at him in astonishment. "Is it possible that you mean what +you say?" she asked. + +"My dear, I do most assuredly mean what I say. Why should you hesitate? +What possible reason can there be for staying here any longer?" + +"Oh, Hugh, how you disappoint me! What has become of your kind feeling, +your sense of justice, your consideration for others? Poor Mrs. +Vimpany!" + +"What has Mrs. Vimpany to do with it?" + +Iris was indignant. + +"What has Mrs. Vimpany to do with it?" she repeated. "After all that I +owe to that good creature's kindness; after I have promised to +accompany her--she has so few happy days, poor soul!--on excursions to +places of interest in the neighbourhood, do you expect me to leave +her--no! it's worse than that--do you expect me to throw her aside like +an old dress that I have worn out? And this after I have so unjustly, +so ungratefully suspected her in my own thoughts? Shameful! shameful!" + +With some difficulty, Mountjoy controlled himself. After what she had +just said, his lips were sealed on the subject of Mrs. Vimpany's true +character. He could only persist in appealing to her duty to her +father. + +"You are allowing your quick temper to carry you to strange +extremities," he answered. "If I think it of more importance to hasten +a reconciliation with your father than to encourage you to make +excursions with a lady whom you have only known for a week or two, what +have I done to deserve such an outbreak of anger? Hush! Not a word more +now! Here is the lady herself." + +As he spoke, Mrs. Vimpany joined them; returning from her interview +with her husband at the inn. She looked first at Iris, and at once +perceived signs of disturbance in the young lady's face. + +Concealing her anxiety under that wonderful stage smile, which affords +a refuge to so many secrets, Mrs. Vimpany said a few words excusing her +absence. Miss Henley answered, without the slightest change in her +friendly manner to the doctor's wife. The signs of disturbance were +evidently attributable to some entirely unimportant cause, from Mrs. +Vimpany's point of view. Mr. Mountjoy's discoveries had not been +communicated yet. + +In Hugh's state of mind, there was some irritating influence in the +presence of the mistress of the house, which applied the spur to his +wits. He mischievously proposed submitting to her the question in +dispute between Iris and himself. + +"It is a very simple matter," he said to Mrs. Vimpany. "Miss Henley's +father is anxious that she should return to him, after an estrangement +between them which is happily at an end. Do you think she ought to +allow any accidental engagements to prevent her from going home at +once? If she requests your indulgence, under the circumstances, has she +any reason to anticipate a refusal?" + +Mrs. Vimpany's expressive eyes looked up, with saintly resignation, at +the dirty ceiling--and asked in dumb show what she had done to deserve +the injury implied by a doubt. + +"Mr. Mountjoy," she said sternly, "you insult me by asking the +question."--"Dear Miss Henley," she continued, turning to Iris, _"you_ +will do me justice, I am sure. Am I capable of allowing my own feelings +to stand in the way, when your filial duty is concerned? Leave me, my +sweet friend. Go! I entreat you, go home!" + +She retired up the stage--no, no; she withdrew to the other end of the +room--and burst into the most becoming of all human tears, theatrical +tears. Impulsive Iris hastened to comfort the personification of +self-sacrifice, the model of all that was most unselfish in female +submission. "For shame! for shame!" she whispered, as she passed +Mountjoy. + +Beaten again by Mrs. Vimpany--with no ties of relationship to justify +resistance to Miss Henley; with two women against him, entrenched +behind the privileges of their sex--the one last sacrifice of his own +feelings, in the interests of Iris, that Hugh could make was to control +the impulse which naturally urged him to leave the house. In the +helpless position in which he had now placed himself, he could only +wait to see what course Mrs. Vimpany might think it desirable to take. +Would she request him, in her most politely malicious way, to bring his +visit to an end? No: she looked at him--hesitated--directed a furtive +glance towards the view of the street from the window--smiled +mysteriously--and completed the sacrifice of her own feelings in these +words: + +"Dear Miss Henley, let me help you to pack up." + +Iris positively refused. + +"No," she said, "I don't agree with Mr. Mountjoy. My father leaves it +to me to name the day when we meet. I hold you, my dear, to our +engagement--I don't leave an affectionate friend as I might leave a +stranger." + +Even if Mr. Mountjoy communicated his discoveries to Miss Henley, on +the way home, there would be no danger now of her believing him. Mrs. +Vimpany put her powerful arm round the generous Iris, and, with +infinite grace, thanked her by a kiss. + +"Your kindness will make my lonely lot in life harder than ever to +bear," she murmured, "when you are gone." + +"But we may hope to meet in London," Iris reminded her; "unless Mr. +Vimpany alters his mind about leaving this place." + +"My husband will not do that, dear. He is determined to try his luck, +as he says, in London. In the meantime you will give me your address, +won't you? Perhaps you will even promise to write to me?" + +Iris instantly gave her promise, and wrote down her address in London. + +Mountjoy made no attempt to interfere: it was needless. + +If the maid had not fallen ill on the journey, and if Mrs. Vimpany had +followed Miss Henley to London, there would have been little to fear in +the discovery of her address--and there was little to fear now. The +danger to Iris was not in what might happen while she was living under +her father's roof, but in what might happen if she was detained (by +plans for excursions) in Mr. Vimpany's house, until Lord Harry might +join her there. + +Rather than permit this to happen, Hugh (in sheer desperation) +meditated charging Mrs. Vimpany, to her face, with being the Irish +lord's spy, and proving the accusation by challenging her to produce +the registered letter and the diamond pin. + +While he was still struggling with his own reluctance to inflict this +degrading exposure on a woman, the talk between the two ladies came to +an end. Mrs. Vimpany returned again to the window. On this occasion, +she looked out into the street--with her handkerchief (was it used as a +signal?) exhibited in her hand. Iris, on her side, advanced to +Mountjoy. Easily moved to anger, her nature was incapable of sullen +perseverance in a state of enmity. To see Hugh still patiently +waiting--still risking the chances of insult--devoted to her, and +forgiving her--was at once a reproach that punished Iris, and a mute +appeal that no true woman's heart could resist. + +With tears in her eyes she said to him: "There must be no coolness +between you and me. I lost my temper, and spoke shamefully to you. My +dear, I am indeed sorry for it. You are never hard on me--you won't be +hard on me now?" + +She offered her hand to him. He had just raised it to his lips--when +the drawing-room door was roughly opened. They both looked round. + +The man of all others whom Hugh least desired to see was the man who +now entered the room. The victim of "light claret"--privately directed +to lurk in the street, until he saw a handkerchief fluttering at the +window--had returned to the house; primed with his clever wife's +instructions; ready and eager to be even with Mountjoy for the dinner +at the inn. + +CHAPTER IX + +MR. VIMPANY ON INTOXICATION + +THERE was no unsteadiness in the doctor's walk, and no flush on his +face. He certainly did strut when he entered the room; and he held up +his head with dignity, when he discovered Mountjoy. But he seemed to +preserve his self-control. Was the man sober again already? + +His wife approached him with her set smile; the appearance of her lord +and master filled Mrs. Vimpany with perfectly-assumed emotions of +agreeable surprise. + +"This is an unexpected pleasure," she said. "You seldom favour us with +your company, my dear, so early in the evening! Are there fewer +patients in want of your advice than usual?" + +"You are mistaken, Arabella. I am here in the performance of a painful +duty." + +The doctor's language, and the doctor's manner, presented him to Iris +in a character that was new to her. What effect had he produced on Mrs. +Vimpany? That excellent friend to travellers in distress lowered her +eyes to the floor, and modestly preserved silence. Mr. Vimpany +proceeded to the performance of his duty; his painful responsibility +seemed to strike him at first from a medical point of view. + +"If there is a poison which undermines the sources of life," he +remarked, "it is alcohol. If there is a vice that degrades humanity, it +is intoxication. Mr. Mountjoy, are you aware that I am looking at you?" + +"Impossible not to be aware of that," Hugh answered. "May I ask why you +are looking at me?" It was not easy to listen gravely to Mr. Vimpany's +denunciation of intemperance, after what had taken place at the dinner +of that day. Hugh smiled. The moral majesty of the doctor entered its +protest. + +"This is really shameful," he said. "The least you can do is to take it +seriously." + +"What is it?" Mountjoy asked. "And why am I to take it seriously?" + +Mr. Vimpany's reply was, to say the least of it, indirect. If such an +expression may be permitted, it smelt of the stage. Viewed in +connection with Mrs. Vimpany's persistent assumption of silent +humility, it suggested to Mountjoy a secret understanding, of some +kind, between husband and wife. + +"What has become of your conscience, sir?" Mr. Vimpany demanded. "Is +that silent monitor dead within you? After giving me a bad dinner, do +you demand an explanation? Ha! you shall have it." + +Having delivered himself to this effect, he added action to words. +Walking grandly to the door, he threw it open, and saluted Mountjoy +with an ironical bow. Iris observed that act of insolence; her colour +rose, her eyes glittered. "Do you see what he has just done?" she said +to Mrs. Vimpany. + +The doctor's wife answered softly: "I don't understand it." After a +glance at her husband, she took Iris by the hand: "Dear Miss Henley, +shall we retire to my room?" + +Iris drew her hand away. "Not unless Mr. Mountjoy wishes it," she said. + +"Certainly not!" Hugh declared. "Pray remain here; your presence will +help me to keep my temper." He stepped up to Mr. Vimpany. "Have you any +particular reason for opening that door?" he asked. + +The doctor was a rascal; but, to do him justice, he was no coward. +"Yes," he said, "I have a reason." + +"What is it, if you please?" + +"Christian forbearance," Mr. Vimpany answered. + +"Forbearance towards me?" Mountjoy continued. + +The doctor's dignity suddenly deserted him. + +"Aha, my boy, you have got it at last!" he cried. "It's pleasant to +understand each other, isn't it? You see, I'm a plain-spoken fellow; I +don't wish to give offence. If there's one thing more than another I +pride myself on, it's my indulgence for human frailty. But, in my +position here, I'm obliged to be careful. Upon my soul, I can't +continue my acquaintance with a man who--oh, come! come! don't look as +if you didn't understand me. The circumstances are against you, sir. +You have treated me infamously." + +"Under what circumstances have I treated you infamously?" Hugh asked. + +"Under pretence of giving me a dinner," Mr. Vimpany shouted--"the worst +dinner I ever sat down to!" + +His wife signed to him to be silent. He took no notice of her. She +insisted on being understood. "Say no more!" she warned him, in a tone +of command. + +The brute side of his nature, roused by Mountjoy's contemptuous +composure, was forcing its way outwards; he set his wife at defiance. + +"Then don't let him look at me as if he thought I was in a state of +intoxication!" cried the furious doctor. "There's the man, Miss, who +tried to make me tipsy," he went on, actually addressing himself to +Iris. "Thanks to my habits of sobriety, he has been caught in his own +trap. _He's_ intoxicated. Ha, friend Mountjoy, have you got the right +explanation at last? There's the door, sir!" + +Mrs. Vimpany felt that this outrage was beyond endurance. If something +was not done to atone for it, Miss Henley would be capable--her face, +at that moment, answered for her--of leaving the house with Mr. +Mountjoy. Mrs. Vimpany seized her husband indignantly by the arm. + +"You brute, you have spoilt everything!" she said to him. "Apologise +directly to Mr. Mountjoy. You won't?" + +"I won't!" + +Experience had taught his wife how to break him to her will. "Do you +remember my diamond pin?" she whispered. + +He looked startled. Perhaps he thought she had lost the pin. + +"Where is it?" he asked eagerly. + +"Gone to London to be valued. Beg Mr. Mountjoy's pardon, or I will put +the money in the bank--and not one shilling of it do you get." + +In the meanwhile, Iris had justified Mrs. Vimpany's apprehensions. Her +indignation noticed nothing but the insult offered to Hugh. She was too +seriously agitated to be able to speak to him. Still admirably calm, +his one anxiety was to compose her. + +"Don't be afraid," he said; "it is impossible that I can degrade myself +by quarrelling with Mr. Vimpany. I only wait here to know what you +propose to do. You have Mrs. Vimpany to think of." + +"I have nobody to think of but You," Iris replied. "But for me, you +would never have been in this house. After the insult that has been +offered to you--oh, Hugh, I feel it too!--let us return to London +together. I have only to tell Rhoda we are going away, and to make my +preparations for travelling. Send for me from the inn, and I will be +ready in time for the next train." + +Mrs. Vimpany approached Mountjoy, leading her husband. + +"Sorry I have offended you," the doctor said. "Beg your pardon. It's +only a joke. No offence, I hope?" + +His servility was less endurable than his insolence. Telling him that +he need say no more, Mountjoy bowed to Mrs. Vimpany, and left the room. +She returned his bow mechanically, in silence. Mr. Vimpany followed +Hugh out--thinking of the diamond pin, and eager to open the house +door, as another act of submission which might satisfy his wife. + +Even a clever woman will occasionally make mistakes; especially when +her temper happens to have been roused. Mrs. Vimpany found herself in a +false position, due entirely to her own imprudence. + +She had been guilty of three serious errors. In the first place she had +taken it for granted that Mr. Vimpany's restorative mixture would +completely revive the sober state of his brains. In the second place, +she had trusted him with her vengeance on the man who had found his way +to her secrets through her husband's intemperance. In the third place, +she had rashly assumed that the doctor, in carrying out her +instructions for insulting Mountjoy, would keep within the limits which +she had prescribed to him, when she hit on the audacious idea of +attributing his disgraceful conduct to the temptation offered by his +host's example. As a consequence of these acts of imprudence, she had +exposed herself to a misfortune that she honestly dreaded--the loss of +the place which she had carefully maintained in Miss Henley's +estimation. In the contradictory confusion of feelings, so often found +in women, this deceitful and dangerous creature had been +conquered--little by little, as she had herself described it--by that +charm of sweetness and simplicity in Iris, of which her own depraved +nature presented no trace. She now spoke with hesitation, almost with +timidity, in addressing the woman whom she had so cleverly deceived, at +the time when they first met. + +"Must I give up all, Miss Henley, that I most value?" she asked. + +"I hardly understand you, Mrs. Vimpany." + +"I will try to make it plainer. Do you really mean to leave me this +evening?" + +"I do." + +"May I own that I am grieved to hear it? Your departure will deprive me +of some happy hours, in your company." + +"Your husband's conduct leaves me no alternative," Iris replied. + +"Pray do not humiliate me by speaking of my husband! I only want to +know if there is a harder trial of my fortitude still to come. Must I +lose the privilege of being your friend?" + +"I hope I am not capable of such injustice as that," Iris declared. "It +would be hard indeed to lay the blame of Mr. Vimpany's shameful +behaviour on you. I don't forget that you made him offer an apology. +Some women, married to such a man as that, might have been afraid of +him. No, no; you have been a good friend to me--and I mean to remember +it." + +Mrs. Vimpany's gratitude was too sincerely felt to be expressed with +her customary readiness. She only said what the stupidest woman in +existence could have said: "Thank you." + +In the silence that followed, the rapid movement of carriage wheels +became audible in the street. The sound stopped at the door of the +doctor's house. + +CHAPTER X + +THE MOCKERY OF DECEIT + +HAD Mountjoy arrived to take Iris away, before her preparations for +travelling were complete? Both the ladies hurried to the window, but +they were too late. The rapid visitor, already hidden from them under +the portico, was knocking smartly at the door. In another minute, a +man's voice in the hall asked for "Miss Henley." The tones--clear, +mellow, and pleasantly varied here and there by the Irish accent--were +not to be mistaken by any one who had already hear them. The man in the +hall was Lord Harry. + +In that serious emergency, Mrs. Vimpany recovered her presence of mind. + +She made for the door, with the object of speaking to Lord Harry before +he could present himself in the drawing-room. But Iris had heard him +ask for her in the hall; and that one circumstance instantly stripped +of its concealments the character of the woman in whose integrity she +had believed. Her first impression of Mrs. Vimpany--so sincerely +repented, so eagerly atoned for--had been the right impression after +all! Younger, lighter, and quicker than the doctor's wife, Iris reached +the door first, and laid her hand on the lock. + +"Wait a minute," she said. + +Mrs. Vimpany hesitated. For the first time in her life at a loss what +to say, she could only sign to Iris to stand back. Iris refused to +move. She put her terrible question in the plainest words: + +"How does Lord Harry know that I am in this house?" + +The wretched woman (listening intently for the sound of a step on the +stairs) refused to submit to a shameful exposure, even now. To her +perverted moral sense, any falsehood was acceptable, as a means of +hiding herself from discovery by Iris. In the very face of detection, +the skilled deceiver kept up the mockery of deceit. + +"My dear," she said, "what has come to you? Why won't you let me go to +my room?" + +Iris eyed her with a look of scornful surprise. "What next?" she said. +"Are you impudent enough to pretend that I have not found you out, +yet?" + +Sheer desperation still sustained Mrs. Vimpany's courage. She played +her assumed character against the contemptuous incredulity of Iris, as +she had sometimes played her theatrical characters against the hissing +and hooting of a brutal audience. + +"Miss Henley," she said, "you forget yourself!" + +"Do you think I didn't see in your face," Iris rejoined, "that you +heard him, too? Answer my question." + +"What question?" + +"You have just heard it." + +"No!" + +"You false woman!" + +"Don't forget, Miss Henley, that you are speaking to a lady." + +"I am speaking to Lord Harry's spy!" + +Their voices rose loud; the excitement on either side had reached its +climax; neither the one nor the other was composed enough to notice the +sound of the carriage-wheels, leaving the house again. In the +meanwhile, nobody came to the drawing-room door. Mrs. Vimpany was too +well acquainted with the hot-headed Irish lord not to conclude that he +would have made himself heard, and would have found his way to Iris, +but for some obstacle, below stairs, for which he was not prepared. The +doctor's wife did justice to the doctor at last. Another person had, in +all probability, heard Lord Harry's voice--and that person might have +been her husband. + +Was it possible that he remembered the service which she had asked of +him; and, even if he had succeeded in calling it to mind, was his +discretion to be trusted? As those questions occurred to her, the +desire to obtain some positive information was more than she was able +to resist. Mrs. Vimpany attempted to leave the drawing-room for the +second time. + +But the same motive had already urged Miss Henley to action. Again, the +younger woman outstripped the older. Iris descended the stairs, +resolved to discover the cause of the sudden suspension of events in +the lower part of the house. + +CHAPTER XI + +MRS. VIMPANY'S FAREWELL + +THE doctor's wife followed Miss Henley out of the room, as far as the +landing--and waited there. + +She had her reasons for placing this restraint on herself. The position +of the landing concealed her from the view of a person in the hall. If +she only listened for the sound of voices she might safely discover +whether Lord Harry was, or was not, still in the house. In the first +event, it would be easy to interrupt his interview with Iris, before +the talk could lead to disclosures which Mrs. Vimpany had every reason +to dread. In the second event, there would be no need to show herself. + +Meanwhile, Iris opened the dining-room door and looked in. + +Nobody was there. The one other room on the ground floor, situated at +the back of the building, was the doctor's consulting-room. She knocked +at the door. Mr. Vimpany's voice answered: "Come in." There he was +alone, drinking brandy and water, and smoking his big black cigar. + +"Where is Lord Harry?" she said. + +"In Ireland, I suppose," Mr. Vimpany answered quietly. + +Iris wasted no time in making useless inquiries. She closed the door +again, and left him. He, too, was undoubtedly in the conspiracy to keep +her deceived. How had it been done? Where was the wild lord, at that +moment? + +Whilst she was pursuing these reflections in the hall, Rhoda came up +from the servants' tea-table in the kitchen. Her mistress gave her the +necessary instructions for packing, and promised to help her before +long. Mrs. Vimpany's audacious resolution to dispute the evidence of +her own senses, still dwelt on Miss Henley's mind. Too angry to think +of the embarrassment which an interview with Lord Harry would produce, +after they had said their farewell words in Ireland. she was determined +to prevent the doctor's wife from speaking to him first, and claiming +him as an accomplice in her impudent denial of the truth. If he had +been, by any chance, deluded into leaving the house, he would sooner or +later discover the trick that had been played on him, and would +certainly return. Iris took a chair in the hall. + + * * * * * * * + +It is due to the doctor to relate that he had indeed justified his +wife's confidence in him. + +The diamond pin, undergoing valuation in London, still represented a +present terror in his mind. The money, the money--he was the most +attentive husband in England when he thought of the money! At the time +when Lord Harry's carriage stopped at his house-door, he was in the +dining-room, taking a bottle of brandy from the cellaret in the +sideboard. Looking instantly out of the window, he discovered who the +visitor was, and decided on consulting his instructions in the +pocket-diary. The attempt was rendered useless, as soon as he had +opened the book, by the unlucky activity of the servant in answering +the door. Her master stopped her in the hall. He was pleasantly +conscious of the recovery of his cunning. But his memory (far from +active under the most favourable circumstances) was slower than ever at +helping him now. On the spur of the moment he could only call to mind +that he had been ordered to prevent a meeting between Lord Harry and +Iris. "Show the gentleman into my consulting-room," he said. + +Lord Harry found the doctor enthroned on his professional chair, +surprised and delighted to see his distinguished friend. The impetuous +Irishman at once asked for Miss Henley. + +"Gone," Mr. Vimpany answered + +"Gone--where?" the wild lord wanted to know next. + +"To London." + +"By herself?" + +"No; with Mr. Hugh Mountjoy." + +Lord Harry seized the doctor by the shoulders, and shook him: "You +don't mean to tell me Mountjoy is going to marry her?" + +Mr. Vimpany feared nothing but the loss of money. The weaker and the +older man of the two, he nevertheless followed the young lord's +example, and shook him with right good-will. "Let's see how you like it +in your turn," he said. "As for Mountjoy, I don't know whether he is +married or single--and don't care." + +"The devil take your obstinacy! When did they start?" + +"The devil take your questions! They started not long since." + +"Might I catch them at the station?" + +"Yes; if you go at once." + +So the desperate doctor carried out his wife's instructions--without +remembering the conditions which had accompanied them. + +The way to the station took Lord Harry past the inn. He saw Hugh +Mountjoy through the open house door paying his bill at the bar. In an +instant the carriage was stopped, and the two men (never on friendly +terms) were formally bowing to each other. + +"I was told I should find you," Lord Harry said, "with Miss Henley, at +the station." + +"Who gave you your information?" + +"Vimpany--the doctor." + +"He ought to know that the train isn't due at the station for an hour +yet." + +"Has the blackguard deceived me? One word more, Mr. Mountjoy. Is Miss +Henley at the inn?" + +"No." + +"Are you going with her to London?" + +"I must leave Miss Henley to answer that." + +"Where is she, sir?" + +"There is an end to everything, my lord, in the world we live in. You +have reached the end of my readiness to answer questions." The +Englishman and the Irishman looked at each other: the Anglo-Saxon was +impenetrably cool; the Celt was flushed and angry. They might have been +on the brink of a quarrel, but for Lord Harry's native quickness of +perception, and his exercise of it at that moment. When he had called +at Mr. Vimpany's house, and had asked for Iris, the doctor had got rid +of him by means of a lie. After this discovery, at what conclusion +could he arrive? The doctor was certainly keeping Iris out of his way. +Reasoning in this rapid manner, Lord Harry let one offence pass, in his +headlong eagerness to resent another. He instantly left Mountjoy. Again +the carriage rattled back along the street; but it was stopped before +it reached Mr. Vimpany's door. + +Lord Harry knew the people whom he had to deal with, and took measures +to approach the house silently, on foot. The coachman received orders +to look out for a signal, which should tell him when he was wanted +again. + +Mr. Vimpany's ears, vigilantly on the watch for suspicious events, +detected no sound of carriage wheels and no noisy use of the knocker. +Still on his guard, however, a ring at the house-bell disturbed him in +his consulting-room. Peeping into the hall, he saw Iris opening the +door, and stole back to his room. "The devil take her!" he said, +alluding to Miss Henley, and thinking of the enviable proprietor of the +diamond pin. + +At the unexpected appearance of Iris, Lord Harry forgot every +consideration which ought to have been present to his mind, at that +critical moment. + +He advanced to her with both hands held out in cordial greeting. She +signed to him contemptuously to stand back--and spoke in tones +cautiously lowered, after a glance at the door of the consulting-room. + +"My only reason for consenting to see you," she said, "is to protect +myself from further deception. Your disgraceful conduct is known to me. +Go now," she continued, pointing to the stairs, "and consult with your +spy, as soon as you like." The Irish lord listened--guiltily conscious +of having deserved what she had said to him--without attempting to +utter a word in excuse. + +Still posted at the head of the stairs, the doctor's wife heard Iris +speaking; but the tone was not loud enough to make the words +intelligible at that distance; neither was any other voice audible in +reply. Vaguely suspicions of some act of domestic treachery, Mrs. +Vimpany began to descend the stairs. At the turning which gave her a +view of the hall, she stopped; thunderstruck by the discovery of Lord +Harry and Miss Henley, together. + +The presence of a third person seemed, in some degree, to relieve Lord +Harry. He ran upstairs to salute Mrs. Vimpany, and was met again by a +cold reception and a hostile look. + +Strongly and strangely contrasted, the two confronted each other on the +stairs. The faded woman, wan and ghastly under cruel stress of mental +suffering, stood face to face with a fine, tall, lithe man, in the +prime of his heath and strength. Here were the bright blue eyes, the +winning smile, and the natural grace of movement, which find their own +way to favour in the estimation of the gentler sex. This irreclaimable +wanderer among the perilous by-ways of the earth--christened "Irish +blackguard," among respectable members of society, when they spoke of +him behind his back--attracted attention, even among the men. Looking +at his daring, finely-formed face, they noticed (as an exception to a +general rule, in these days) the total suppression, by the razor, of +whiskers, moustache, and beard. Strangers wondered whether Lord Harry +was an actor or a Roman Catholic priest. Among chance acquaintances, +those few favourites of Nature who are possessed of active brains, +guessed that his life of adventure might well have rendered disguise +necessary to his safety, in more than one part of the world. Sometimes +they boldly put the question to him. The hot temper of an Irishman, in +moments of excitement, is not infrequently a sweet temper in moments of +calm. What they called Lord Harry's good-nature owned readily that he +had been indebted, on certain occasions, to the protection of a false +beard, And perhaps a colouring of his face and hair to match. The same +easy disposition now asserted itself, under the merciless enmity of +Mrs. Vimpany's eyes. "If I have done anything to offend you," he said, +with an air of puzzled humility, "I'm sure I am sorry for it. Don't be +angry, Arabella, with an old friend. Why won't you shake hands?" + +"I have kept your secret, and done your dirty work," Mrs. Vimpany +replied. "And what is my reward? Miss Henley can tell you how your +Irish blundering has ruined me in a lady's estimation. Shake hands, +indeed! You will never shake hands with Me again as long as you live!" + +She said those words without looking at him; her eyes were resting on +Iris now. From the moment when she had seen the two together, she knew +that it was all over; further denial in the face of plain proofs would +be useless indeed! Submission was the one alternative left. + +"Miss Henley," she said, "if you can feel pity for another woman's +sorrow and shame, let me have a last word with you--out of this man's +hearing." + +There was nothing artificial in her tones or her looks; no acting could +have imitated the sad sincerity with which she spoke. Touched by that +change, Iris accompanied her as she ascended the stairs. After a little +hesitation, Lord Harry followed them. Mrs. Vimpany turned on him when +they reached the drawing-room landing. "Must I shut the door in your +face?" she asked. + +He was as pleasantly patient as ever: + +"You needn't take the trouble to do that, my dear; I'll only ask your +leave to sit down and wait on the stairs. When you have done with Miss +Henley, just call me in. And, by the way, don't be alarmed in case of a +little noise--say a heavy man tumbling downstairs. If the blackguard +it's your misfortune to be married to happens to show himself, I shall +be under the necessity of kicking him. That's all." + +Mrs. Vimpany closed the door. She spoke to Iris respectfully, as she +might have addressed a stranger occupying a higher rank in life than +herself. + +"There is an end, madam, to one short acquaintance; and, as we both +know, an end to it for ever. When we first met--let me tell the truth +at last!--I felt a malicious pleasure in deceiving you. After that +time, I was surprised to find that you grew on my liking, Can you +understand the wickedness that tried to resist you? It was useless; +your good influence has been too strong for me. Strange, isn't it? I +have lived a life of deceit, among bad people. What could you expect of +me, after that? I heaped lies on lies--I would have denied that the sun +was in the heavens--rather than find myself degraded in your opinion. +Well! that is all over--useless, quite useless now. Pray don't mistake +me. I am not attempting to excuse myself; a confession was due to you; +the confession is made. It is too late to hope that you will forgive +me. If you will permit it, I have only one favour to ask. Forget me." + +She turned away with a last hopeless look, who said as plainly as if in +words: "I am not worth a reply." + +Generous Iris insisted on speaking to her. + +"I believe you are truly sorry for what you have done," she said; "I +can never forget that--I can never forget You." She held out her +pitying hand. Mrs. Vimpany was too bitterly conscious of the past to +touch it. Even a spy is not beneath the universal reach of the +heartache. There were tears in the miserable woman's eyes when she had +looked her last at Iris Henley. + +CHAPTER XII + +LORD HARRY's DEFENCE + +AFTER a short interval, the drawing-room door was opened again. Waiting +on the threshold, the Irish lord asked if he might come in. + +Iris replied coldly. "This is not my house," she said; "I must leave +you to decide for yourself." + +Lord Harry crossed the room to speak to her and stopped. There was no +sign of relenting towards him in that dearly-loved face. "I wonder +whether it would be a relief to you," he suggested with piteous +humility, "if I went away?" + +If she had been true to herself, she would have said, Yes. Where is the +woman to be found, in her place, with a heart hard enough to have set +her that example? She pointed to a chair. He felt her indulgence +gratefully. Following the impulse of the moment, he attempted to excuse +his conduct. + +"There is only one thing I can say for myself," he confessed, "I didn't +begin by deceiving you. While you had your eye on me, Iris, I was an +honourable man." + +This extraordinary defence reduced her to silence. Was there another +man in the world who would have pleaded for pardon in that way? "I'm +afraid I have not made myself understood," he said. "May I try again?" + +"If you please." + +The vagabond nobleman made a resolute effort to explain himself +intelligibly, this time: + +"See now! We said good-bye, over there, in the poor old island. Well, +indeed I meant it, when I owned that I was unworthy of you. _I_ didn't +contradict you, when you said you could never be my wife, after such a +life as I have led. And, do remember, I submitted to your returning to +England, without presuming to make a complaint. Ah, my sweet girl, it +was easy to submit, while I could look at you, and hear the sound of +your voice, and beg for that last kiss--and get it. Reverend gentlemen +talk about the fall of Adam. What was that to the fall of Harry, when +he was back in his own little cottage, without the hope of ever seeing +you again? To the best of my recollection, the serpent that tempted Eve +was up a tree. I found the serpent that tempted Me, sitting waiting in +my own armchair, and bent on nothing worse than borrowing a trifle of +money. Need I say who she was? I don't doubt that you think her a +wicked woman." + +Never ready in speaking of acts of kindness, on her own part, Iris +answered with some little reserve: "I have learnt to think better of +Mrs. Vimpany than you suppose." + +Lord Harry began to look like a happy man, for the first time since he +had entered the room. + +"I ought to have known it!" he burst out. "Yours is the well-balanced +mind, dear, that tempers justice with mercy. Mother Vimpany has had a +hard life of it. Just change places with her for a minute or so--and +you'll understand what she has had to go through. Find yourself, for +instance, in Ireland, without the means to take you back to England. +Add to that, a husband who sends you away to make money for him at the +theatre, and a manager (not an Irishman, thank God!) who refuses to +engage you--after your acting has filled his dirty pockets in past +days--because your beauty has faded with time. Doesn't your bright +imagination see it all now? My old friend Arabella, ready and anxious +to serve me--and a sinking at this poor fellow's heart when he knew, if +he once lost the trace of you, he might lose it for ever--there's the +situation, as they call it on the stage. I wish I could say for myself +what I may say for Mrs. Vimpany. It's such a pleasure to a clever woman +to engage in a little deceit--we can't blame her, can we?" + +Iris protested gently against a code of morality which included the +right of deceit among the privileges of the sex. Lord Harry slipped +through her fingers with the admirable Irish readiness; he agreed with +Miss Henley that he was entirely wrong. + +"And don't spare me while you're about it," he suggested. "Lay all the +blame of that shameful stratagem on my shoulders. It was a despicable +thing to do. When I had you watched, I acted in a manner--I won't say +unworthy of a gentleman; have I been a gentleman since I first ran away +from home? Why, it's even been said my way of speaking is no longer the +way of a gentleman; and small wonder, too, after the company I've kept. +Ah, well! I'm off again, darling, on a sea voyage. Will you forgive me +now? or will you wait till I come back, if I do come back? God knows!" +He dropped on his knees, and kissed her hand. "Anyway," he said, +"whether I live or whether I die, it will be some consolation to +remember that I asked your pardon--and perhaps got it." + +"Take it, Harry; I can't help forgiving you!" + +She had done her best to resist him, and she had answered in those +merciful words. + +The effect was visible, perilously visible, as he rose from his knees. +Her one chance of keeping the distance between them, on which she had +been too weak to insist, was not to encourage him by silence. Abruptly, +desperately, she made a commonplace inquiry about his proposed voyage. +"Tell me," she resumed, "where are you going when you leave England?" + +"Oh, to find money, dear, if I can--to pick up diamonds, or to hit on a +mine of gold, and so forth." + +The fine observation of Iris detected something not quite easy in his +manner, as he made that reply. He tried to change the subject: she +deliberately returned to it. "Your account of your travelling plans is +rather vague," she told him. "Do you know when you are likely to +return?" + +He took her hand. One of the rings on her fingers happened to be turned +the wrong way. He set it in the right position, and discovered an opal. +"Ah! the unlucky stone!" he cried, and turned it back again out of +sight. She drew away her hand. "I asked you," she persisted, "when you +expect to return?" + +He laughed--not so gaily as usual. + +"How do I know I shall ever get back?" he answered. "Sometimes the seas +turn traitor, and sometimes the savages. I have had so many narrow +escapes of my life, I can't expect my luck to last for ever." He made a +second attempt to change the subject. "I wonder whether you're likely +to pay another visit to Ireland? My cottage is entirely at your +disposal, Iris dear. Oh, when I'm out of the way, of course! The place +seemed to please your fancy, when you saw it. You will find it well +taken care of, I answer for that." + +Iris asked who was taking care of his cottage. + +The wild lord's face saddened. He hesitated; rose from his chair +restlessly, and walked away to the window; returned, and made up his +mind to reply. + +"My dear, you know her. She was the old housekeeper at--" + +His voice failed him. He was unable, or unwilling, to pronounce the +name of Arthur's farm. + +Knowing, it is needless to say, that he had alluded to Mrs. Lewson, +Iris warmly commended him for taking care of her old nurse. At the same +time, she remembered the unfriendly terms in which the housekeeper had +alluded to Lord Harry, when they had talked of him. + +"Did you find no difficulty," she asked, "in persuading Mrs. Lewson to +enter your service?" + +"Oh, yes, plenty of difficulty; I found my bad character in my way, as +usual." It was a relief to him, at that moment, to talk of Mrs. Lewson; +the Irish humour and the Irish accent both asserted themselves in his +reply. "The curious old creature told me to my face I was a scamp. I +took leave to remind her that it was the duty of a respectable person, +like herself, to reform scamps; I also mentioned that I was going away, +and she would be master and mistress too on my small property. That +softened her heart towards me. You will mostly find old women amenable, +if you get at them by way of their dignity. Besides, there was another +lucky circumstance that helped me. The neighbourhood of my cottage has +some attraction for Mrs. Lewson. She didn't say particularly what it +was--and I never asked her to tell me." + +"Surely you might have guessed it, without being told," Iris reminded +him. "Mrs. Lewson's faithful heart loves poor Arthur's memory--and +Arthur's grave is not far from your cottage." + +"Don't speak of him!" + +It was said loudly, peremptorily, passionately. He looked at her with +angry astonishment in his face. "You loved him too!" he said. "Can you +speak of him quietly? The noblest, truest, sweetest man that ever the +Heavens looked on, foully assassinated. And the wretch who murdered him +still living, free--oh, what is God's providence about?--is there no +retribution that will follow him? no just hand that will revenge +Arthur's death?" + +As those fierce words escaped him, he was no longer the easy, gentle, +joyous creature whom Iris had known and loved. The furious passions of +the Celtic race glittered savagely in his eyes, and changed to a grey +horrid pallor the healthy colour that was natural to his face. "Oh, my +temper, my temper!" he cried, as Iris shrank from him. "She hates me +now, and no wonder." He staggered away from her, and burst into a +convulsive fit of crying, dreadful to hear. Compassion, divine +compassion, mastered the earthlier emotion of terror in the great heart +of the woman who loved him. She followed him, and laid her hand +caressingly on his shoulder. "I don't hate you, my dear," she said. "I +am sorry for Arthur--and, oh, so sorry for You!" He caught her in his +arms. His gratitude, his repentance, his silent farewell were all +expressed in a last kiss. It was a moment, never to be forgotten to the +end of their lives. Before she could speak, before she could think, he +had left her. + +She called him back, through the open door. He never returned; he never +even replied. She ran to the window, and threw it up--and was just in +time to see him signal to the carriage and leap into it. Her horror of +the fatal purpose that was but too plainly rooted in him--her +conviction that he was on the track of the assassin, self devoted to +exact the terrible penalty of blood for blood--emboldened her to insist +on being heard. "Come back," she cried. "I must, I will, speak with +you." + +He waved his hand to her with a gesture of despair. "Start your +horses," he shouted to the coachman. Alarmed by his voice and his look, +the man asked where he should drive to. Lord Harry pointed furiously to +the onward road. "Drive," he answered, "to the Devil!" + +THE END OF THE FIRST PERIOD + + +THE SECOND PERIOD + +CHAPTER XIII + +IRIS AT HOME + +A LITTLE more than four months had passed, since the return of Iris to +her father's house. + +Among other events which occurred, during the earlier part of that +interval, the course adopted by Hugh Mountjoy, when Miss Henley's +suspicions of the Irish lord were first communicated to him, claims a +foremost place. + +It was impossible that the devoted friend of Iris could look at her, +when they met again on their way to the station, without perceiving the +signs of serious agitation. Only waiting until they were alone in the +railway-carriage, she opened her heart unreservedly to the man in whose +clear intellect and true sympathy she could repose implicit trust. He +listened to what she could repeat of Lord Harry's language with but +little appearance of surprise. Iris had only reminded him of one, among +the disclosures which had escaped Mr. Vimpany at the inn. Under the +irresistible influence of good wine, the doctor had revealed the Irish +lord's motive for remaining in his own country, after the assassination +of Arthur Mountjoy. Hugh met the only difficulty in his way, without +shrinking from it. He resolved to clear his mind of its natural +prejudice against the rival who had been preferred to him, before he +assumed the responsibility of guiding Iris by his advice. + +When he had in some degree recovered confidence in his own unbiased +judgment, he entered on the question of Lord Harry's purpose in leaving +England. + +Without attempting to dispute the conclusion at which Iris had arrived, +he did his best to alleviate her distress. In his opinion, he was +careful to tell her, a discovery of the destination to which Lord Harry +proposed to betake himself, might be achieved. The Irish lord's +allusion to a new adventure, which would occupy him in searching for +diamonds or gold, might indicate a contemplated pursuit of the +assassin, as well as a plausible excuse to satisfy Iris. It was at +least possible that the murderer might have been warned of his danger +if he remained in England, and that he might have contemplated +directing his flight to a distant country, which would not only offer a +safe refuge, but also hold out (in its mineral treasures) a hope of +gain. Assuming that these circumstances had really happened, it was in +Lord Harry's character to make sure of his revenge, by embarking in the +steamship by which the assassin of Arthur Mountjoy was a passenger. + +Wild as this guess at the truth undoubtedly was, it had one merit: it +might easily be put to the test. + +Hugh had bought the day's newspaper at the station. He proposed to +consult the shipping advertisements relating, in the first place, to +communication with the diamond-mines and the goldfields of South +Africa. + +This course of proceeding at once informed him that the first steamer, +bound for that destination, would sail from London in two days' time. +The obvious precaution to take was to have the Dock watched; and +Mountjoy's steady old servant, who knew Lord Harry by sight, was the +man to employ. + +Iris naturally inquired what good end could be attained, if the +anticipated discovery actually took place. + +To this Mountjoy answered, that the one hope--a faint hope, he must +needs confess--of inducing Lord Harry to reconsider his desperate +purpose, lay in the influence of Iris herself. She must address a +letter to him, announcing that his secret had been betrayed by his own +language and conduct, and declaring that she would never again see him, +or hold any communication with him, if he persisted in his savage +resolution of revenge. Such was the desperate experiment which +Mountjoy's generous and unselfish devotion to Iris now proposed to try. + +The servant (duly entrusted with Miss Henley's letter) was placed on +the watch--and the event which had been regarded as little better than +a forlorn hope, proved to be the event that really took place. Lord +Harry was a passenger by the steamship. + +Mountjoy's man presented the letter entrusted to him, and asked +respectfully if there was any answer. The wild lord read it--looked (to +use the messenger's own words) like a man cut to the heart--seemed at a +loss what to say or do--and only gave a verbal answer: "I sincerely +thank Miss Henley, and I promise to write when the ship touches at +Madeira." The servant continued to watch him when he went on board the +steamer; saw him cast a look backwards, as if suspecting that he might +have been followed; and then lost sight of him in the cabin. The vessel +sailed after a long interval of delay, but he never reappeared on the +deck. + +The ambiguous message sent to her aroused the resentment of Iris; she +thought it cruel. For some weeks perhaps to come, she was condemned to +remain in doubt, and was left to endure the trial of her patience, +without having Mountjoy at hand to encourage and console her. He had +been called away to the south of France by the illness of his father. + +But the fortunes of Miss Henley, at this period of her life, had their +brighter side. She found reason to congratulate herself on the +reconciliation which had brought her back to her father. Mr. Henley had +received her, not perhaps with affection, but certainly with kindness. +"If we don't get in each other's way, we shall do very well; I am glad +to see you again." That was all he had said to her, but it meant much +from a soured and selfish man. + +Her only domestic anxiety was caused by another failure in the health +of her maid. + +The Doctor declared that medical help would be of no avail, while Rhoda +Bennet remained in London. In the country she had been born and bred, +and to the country she must return. Mr. Henley's large landed property, +on the north of London, happened to include a farm in the neighbourhood +of Muswell Hill. Wisely waiting for a favourable opportunity, Iris +alluded to the good qualities which had made Rhoda almost as much her +friend as her servant, and asked leave to remove the invalid to the +healthy air of the farm. + +Her anxiety about the recovery of a servant so astonished Mr. Henley, +that he was hurried (as he afterwards declared) into granting his +daughter's request. After this concession, the necessary arrangements +were easily made. The influence of Iris won the goodwill of the farmer +and his wife; Rhoda, as an expert and willing needlewoman, being sure +of a welcome, for her own sake, in a family which included a number of +young children. Miss Henley had only to order her carriage, and to be +within reach of the farm. A week seldom passed without a meeting +between the mistress and the maid. + +In the meantime, Mountjoy (absent in France) did not forget to write to +Iris. + +His letters offered little hope of a speedy return. The doctors had not +concealed from him that his father's illness would end fatally; but +there were reserves of vital power still left, which might prolong the +struggle. Under these melancholy circumstances, he begged that Iris +would write to him. The oftener she could tell him of the little events +of her life at home, the more kindly she would brighten the days of a +dreary life. + +Eager to show, even in a trifling matter, how gratefully she +appreciated Mountjoy's past kindness, Iris related the simple story of +her life at home, in weekly letters addressed to her good friend. After +telling Hugh (among other things) of Rhoda's establishment at the farm, +she had some unexpected results to relate, which had followed the +attempt to provide herself with a new maid. + +Two young women had been successively engaged--each recommended, by the +lady whom she had last served, with that utter disregard of moral +obligation which appears to be shamelessly on the increase in the +England of our day. The first of the two maids, described as "rather +excitable," revealed infirmities of temper which suggested a lunatic +asylum as the only fit place for her. The second young woman, detected +in stealing eau-de-cologne, and using it (mixed with water) as an +intoxicating drink, claimed merciful construction of her misconduct, on +the ground that she had been misled by the example of her last +mistress. + +At the third attempt to provide herself with a servant, Iris was able +to report the discovery of a responsible person who told the truth--an +unmarried lady of middle age. + +In this case, the young woman was described as a servant thoroughly +trained in the performance of her duties, honest, sober, industrious, +of an even temper, and unprovided with a "follower" in the shape of a +sweetheart. Even her name sounded favourably in the ear of a +stranger--it was Fanny Mere. Iris asked how a servant, apparently +possessed of a faultless character, came to be in want of a situation. +At this question the lady sighed, and acknowledged that she had "made a +dreadful discovery," relating to the past life of her maid. It proved +to be the old, the miserably old, story of a broken promise of +marriage, and of the penalty paid as usual by the unhappy woman. "I +will say nothing of my own feelings," the maiden lady explained. "In +justice to the other female servants, it was impossible for me to keep +such a person in my house; and, in justice to you, I must most +unwillingly stand in the way of Fanny Mere's prospects by mentioning my +reason for parting with her." + +"If I could see the young woman and speak to her," Iris said, "I should +like to decide the question of engaging her, for myself." + +The lady knew the address of her discharged servant, and--with some +appearance of wonder--communicated it. Miss Henley wrote at once, +telling Fanny Mere to come to her on the following day. + +When she woke on the next morning, later than usual, an event occurred +which Iris had been impatiently expecting for some time past. She found +a letter waiting on her bedside table, side by side with her cup of +tea. Lord Harry had written to her at last. + +Whether he used his pen or his tongue, the Irish lord's conduct was +always more or less in need of an apology. Here were the guilty one's +new excuses, expressed in his customary medley of frank confession and +flowery language: + +"I am fearing, my angel, that I have offended you. You have too surely +said to yourself, This miserable Harry might have made me happy by +writing two lines--and what does he do? He sends a message in words +which tell me nothing. + +"My sweet girl, the reason why is that I was in two minds when your man +stopped me on my way to the ship. + +"Whether it was best for you--I was not thinking of myself--to confess +the plain truth, or to take refuge in affectionate equivocation, was +more than I could decide at the time. When minutes are enough for your +intelligence, my stupidity wants days. Well! I saw it at last. A man +owes the truth to a true woman; and you are a true woman. There you +find a process of reasoning--I have been five days getting hold of it. + +"But tell me one thing first. Brutus killed a man; Charlotte Corday +killed a man. One of the two victims was a fine tyrant, and the other a +mean tyrant. Nobody blames those two historical assassins. Why then +blame me for wishing to make a third? Is a mere modern murderer beneath +my vengeance, by comparison with two classical tyrants who did _their_ +murders by deputy? The man who killed Arthur Mountjoy is (next to Cain +alone) the most atrocious homicide that ever trod the miry ways of this +earth. There is my reply! I call it a crusher. + +"So now my mind is easy. Darling, let me make your mind easy next. + +"When I left you at the window of Vimpany's house, I was off to the +other railroad to find the murderer in his hiding-place by the seaside. +He had left it; but I got a trace, and went back to London--to the +Docks. Some villain in Ireland, who knows my purpose, must have turned +traitor. Anyhow, the wretch has escaped me. + +"Yes; I searched the ship in every corner. He was not on board. Has he +gone on before me, by an earlier vessel? Or has he directed his flight +to some other part of the world? I shall find out in time. His day of +reckoning will come, and he, too, shall know a violent death! Amen. So +be it. Amen. + +"Have I done now? Bear with me, gentle Iris--there is a word more to +come. + +"You will wonder why I went on by the steamship--all the way to South +Africa--when I had failed to find the man I wanted, on board. What was +my motive? You, you alone, are always my motive. Lucky men have found +gold, lucky men have found diamonds. Why should I not be one of them? +My sweet, let us suppose two possible things; my own elastic +convictions would call them two likely things, but never mind that. +Say, I come back a reformed character; there is your only objection to +me, at once removed! And take it for granted that I return with a +fortune of my own finding. In that case, what becomes of Mr. Henley's +objection to me? It melts (as Shakespeare says somewhere) into thin +air. Now do take my advice, for once. Show this part of my letter to +your excellent father, with my love. I answer beforehand for the +consequences. Be happy, my Lady Harry--as happy as I am--and look for +my return on an earlier day than you may anticipate. Yours till death, +and after. + +"HARRY." + + +Like the Irish lord, Miss Henley was "in two minds," while she rose, +and dressed herself. There were parts of the letter for which she loved +the writer, and parts of it for which she hated him. + +What a prospect was before that reckless man--what misery, what horror, +might not be lying in wait in the dreadful future! If he failed in the +act of vengeance, that violent death of which he had written so +heedlessly might overtake him from another hand. If he succeeded, the +law might discover his crime, and the infamy of expiation on the +scaffold might be his dreadful end. She turned, shuddering, from the +contemplation of those hideous possibilities, and took refuge in the +hope of his safe, his guiltless return. Even if his visions of success, +even if his purposes of reform (how hopeless at his age!) were actually +realised, could she consent to marry the man who had led his life, had +written this letter, had contemplated (and still cherished) his +merciless resolution of revenge? No woman in her senses could let the +bare idea of being his wife enter her mind. Iris opened her +writing-desk, to hide the letter from all eyes but her own. As she +secured it with the key, her heart sank under the return of a terror +remembered but too well Once more, the superstitious belief in a +destiny that was urging Lord Harry and herself nearer and nearer to +each other, even when they seemed to be most widely and most surely +separated, thrilled her under the chilling mystery of its presence. She +dropped helplessly into a chair. Oh, for a friend who could feel for +her, who could strengthen her, whose wise words could restore her to +her better and calmer self! Hugh was far away; and Iris was left to +suffer and to struggle alone. + +Heartfelt aspirations for help and sympathy! Oh, irony of +circumstances, how were they answered? The housemaid entered the room, +to announce the arrival of a discharged servant, with a lost character. + +"Let the young woman come in," Iris said. Was Fanny Mere the friend +whom she had been longing for? She looked at her troubled face in the +glass--and laughed bitterly. + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE LADY'S MAID + +IT was not easy to form a positive opinion of the young woman who now +presented herself in Miss Henley's room. + +If the Turkish taste is truly reported as valuing beauty in the female +figure more than beauty in the female face, Fanny Mere's personal +appearance might have found, in Constantinople, the approval which she +failed to receive in London. Slim and well balanced, firmly and neatly +made, she interested men who met her by accident (and sometimes even +women), if they happened to be walking behind her. When they quickened +their steps, and, passing on, looked back at her face, they lost all +interest in Fanny from that moment. Painters would have described the +defect in her face as "want of colour." She was one of the whitest of +fair female human beings. Light flaxen hair, faint blue eyes with no +expression in them, and a complexion which looked as if it had never +been stirred by a circulation of blood, produced an effect on her +fellow-creatures in general which made them insensible to the beauty of +her figure, and the grace of her movements. There was no betrayal of +bad health in her strange pallor: on the contrary, she suggested the +idea of rare physical strength. Her quietly respectful manner was, so +to say, emphasised by an underlying self-possession, which looked +capable of acting promptly and fearlessly in the critical emergencies +of life. Otherwise, the expression of character in her face was +essentially passive. Here was a steady, resolute young woman, possessed +of qualities which failed to show themselves on the surface--whether +good qualities or bad qualities experience alone could determine. + +Finding it impossible, judging by a first impression, to arrive at any +immediate decision favourable or adverse to the stranger, Iris opened +the interview with her customary frankness; leaving the consequences to +follow as they might. + +"Take a seat, Fanny," she said, "and let us try if we can understand +each other. I think you will agree with me that there must be no +concealments between us. You ought to know that your mistress has told +me why she parted with you. It was her duty to tell me the truth, and +it is my duty not to be unjustly prejudiced against you after what I +have heard. Pray believe me when I say that I don't know, and don't +wish to know, what your temptation may have been--" + +"I beg your pardon, Miss, for interrupting you. My temptation was +vanity." + +Whether she did or did not suffer in making that confession, it was +impossible to discover. Her tones were quiet; her manner was +unobtrusively respectful; the pallor of her face was not disturbed by +the slightest change of colour. Was the new maid an insensible person? +Iris began to fear already that she might have made a mistake. + +"I don't expect you to enter into particulars," she said; "I don't ask +you here to humiliate yourself." + +"When I got your letter, Miss, I tried to consider how I might show +myself worthy of your kindness," Fanny answered. "The one way I could +see was not to let you think better of me than I deserve. When a +person, like me, is told, for the first time, that her figure makes +amends for her face, she is flattered by the only compliment that has +been paid to her in all her life. My excuse, Miss (if I have an excuse) +is a mean one---I couldn't resist a compliment. That is all I have to +say." + +Iris began to alter her opinion. This was not a young woman of the +ordinary type. It began to look possible, and more than possible, that +she was worthy of a helping hand. The truth seemed to be in her. + +"I understand you, and feel for you." Having replied in those words, +Iris wisely and delicately changed the subject. "Let me hear how you +are situated at the present time," she continued. "Are your parents +living?" + +"My father and mother are dead, Miss." + +"Have you any other relatives?" + +"They are too poor to be able to do anything for me. I have lost my +character--and I am left to help myself." + +"Suppose you fail to find another situation?" Iris suggested. + +"Yes, Miss?" + +"How can you help yourself?" + +"I can do what other girls have done." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Some of us starve on needlework. Some take to the streets. Some end it +in the river. If there is no other chance for me, I think I shall try +that way," said the poor creature, as quietly as if she was speaking of +some customary prospect that was open to her. "There will be nobody to +be sorry for me--and, as I have read, drowning is not a very painful +death." + +"You shock me, Fanny! I, for one, should be sorry for you." + +"Thank you, Miss." + +"And try to remember," Iris continued, "that there may be chances in +the future which you don't see yet. You speak of what you have read, +and I have already noticed how clearly and correctly you express +yourself. You must have been educated. Was it at home? or at school? + +"I was once sent to school," Fanny replied, not quite willingly. + +"Was it a private school?" + +"Yes." + +That short answer warned Iris to be careful. + +"Recollections of school," she said good-humouredly, "are not the +pleasantest recollections in some of our lives. Perhaps I have touched +on a subject which is disagreeable to you?" + +"You have touched on one of my disappointments, Miss. While my mother +lived, she was my teacher. After her death, my father sent me to +school. When he failed in business, I was obliged to leave, just as I +had begun to learn and like it. Besides, the girls found out that I was +going away, because there was no money at home to pay the fees--and +that mortified me. There is more that I might tell you. I have a reason +for hating my recollections of the school--but I mustn't mention that +time in my life which your goodness to me tries to forget." + +All that appealed to her, so simply and so modestly, in that reply, was +not lost on Iris. After an interval of silence, she said: + +"Can you guess what I am thinking of, Fanny?" + +"No, Miss." + +"I am asking myself a question. If I try you in my service shall I +never regret it?" + +For the first time, strong emotion shook Fanny Mere. Her voice failed +her, in the effort to speak. Iris considerately went on. + +"You will take the place," she said, "of a maid who has been with me +for years--a good dear creature who has only left me through +ill-health. I must not expect too much of you; I cannot hope that you +will be to me what Rhoda Bennet has been." + +Fanny succeeded in controlling herself. "Is there any hope," she asked, +"of my seeing Rhoda Bennet?" + +"Why do you wish to see her?" + +"You are fond of her, Miss---that is one reason." + +"And the other?" + +"Rhoda Bennet might help me to serve you as I want to serve you; she +might perhaps encourage me to try if I could follow her example." Fanny +paused, and clasped her hands fervently. The thought that was in her +forced its way to expression. "It's so easy to feel grateful," she +said--"and, oh, so hard to show it!" + +"Come to me," her new mistress answered, "and show it to-morrow." + +Moved by that compassionate impulse, Iris said the words which restored +to an unfortunate creature a lost character and a forfeited place in +the world. + +CHAPTER XV + +MR. HENLEY'S TEMPER + +PROVIDED by nature with ironclad constitutional defences against +illness, Mr. Henley was now and then troubled with groundless doubts of +his own state of health. Acting under a delusion of this kind, he +imagined symptoms which rendered a change of residence necessary from +his town house to his country house, a few days only after his daughter +had decided on the engagement of her new maid. + +Iris gladly, even eagerly, adapted her own wishes to the furtherance of +her father's plans. Sorely tried by anxiety and suspense, she needed +all that rest and tranquillity could do for her. The first week in the +country produced an improvement in her health. Enjoying the serene +beauty of woodland and field, breathing the delicious purity of the +air--sometimes cultivating her own corner in the garden, and sometimes +helping the women in the lighter labours of the dairy--her nerves +recovered their tone, and her spirits rose again to their higher level. + +In the performance of her duties the new maid justified Miss Henley's +confidence in her, during the residence of the household in the +country. + +She showed, in her own undemonstrative way, a grateful sense of her +mistress's kindness. Her various occupations were intelligently and +attentively pursued; her even temper never seemed to vary; she gave the +servants no opportunities of complaining of her. But one peculiarity in +her behaviour excited hostile remark, below-stairs. On the occasions +when she was free to go out for the day, she always found some excuse +for not joining any of the other female servants, who might happen to +be similarly favoured. The one use she made of her holiday was to +travel by railway to some place unknown; always returning at the right +time in the evening. Iris knew enough of the sad circumstances to be +able to respect her motives, and to appreciate the necessity for +keeping the object of these solitary journeys a secret from her +fellow-servants. + +The pleasant life in the country house had lasted for nearly a month, +when the announcement of Hugh's approaching return to England reached +Iris. The fatal end of his father's long and lingering illness had +arrived, and the funeral had taken place. Business, connected with his +succession to the property, would detain him in London for a few days. +Submitting to this necessity, he earnestly expressed the hope of seeing +Iris again, the moment he was at liberty. + +Hearing the good news, Mr. Henley obstinately returned to his +plans--already twice thwarted--for promoting the marriage of Mountjoy +and Iris. + +He wrote to invite Hugh to his house in a tone of cordiality which +astonished his daughter; and when the guest arrived, the genial welcome +of the host had but one defect--Mr. Henley overacted his part. He gave +the two young people perpetual opportunities of speaking to each other +privately; and, on the principle that none are so blind as those who +won't see, he failed to discover that the relations between them +continued to be relations of friendship, do what he might. Hugh's long +attendance on his dying father had left him depressed in spirits; Iris +understood him, and felt for him. He was not ready with his opinion of +the new maid, after he had seen Fanny Mere. "My inclination," he said, +"is to trust the girl. And yet, I hesitate to follow my +inclination--and I don't know why." + +When Hugh's visit came to an end, he continued his journey in a +northerly direction. The property left to him by his father included a +cottage, standing in its own grounds, on the Scotch shore of the Solway +Firth. The place had been neglected during the long residence of the +elder Mr. Mountjoy on the Continent. Hugh's present object was to +judge, by his own investigation, of the necessity for repairs. + +On the departure of his guest, Mr. Henley (still obstinately hopeful of +the marriage on which he had set his mind) assumed a jocular manner +towards Iris, and asked if the Scotch cottage was to be put in order +for the honeymoon. Her reply, gently as it was expressed, threw him +into a state of fury. His vindictive temper revelled, not only in harsh +words, but in spiteful actions. He sold one of his dogs which had +specially attached itself to Iris; and, seeing that she still enjoyed +the country, he decided on returning to London. + +She submitted in silence. But the events of that past time, when her +father's merciless conduct had driven her out of his house, returned +ominously to her memory. She said to herself: "Is a day coming when I +shall leave him again?" It was coming--and she little knew how. + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE DOCTOR IN FULL DRESS + +MR. HENLEY'S household had been again established in London, when a +servant appeared one morning with a visiting card, and announced that a +gentleman had called who wished to see Miss Henley. She looked at the +card. The gentleman was Mr. Vimpany. + +On the point of directing the man to say that she was engaged, Iris +checked herself. + +Mrs. Vimpany's farewell words had produced a strong impression on her. +There had been moments of doubt and gloom in her later life, when the +remembrance of that unhappy woman was associated with a feeling +(perhaps a morbid feeling) of self-reproach. It seemed to be hard on +the poor penitent wretch not to have written to her. Was she still +leading the same dreary life in the mouldering old town? Or had she +made another attempt to return to the ungrateful stage? The gross +husband, impudently presenting himself with his card and his message, +could answer those questions if he could do nothing else. For that +reason only Iris decided that she would receive Mr. Vimpany. + +On entering the room, she found two discoveries awaiting her, for which +she was entirely unprepared. + +The doctor's personal appearance exhibited a striking change; he was +dressed, in accordance with the strictest notions of professional +propriety, entirely in black. More remarkable still, there happened to +be a French novel among the books on the table--and that novel Mr. +Vimpany, barbarous Mr. Vimpany, was actually reading with an appearance +of understanding it! + +"I seem to surprise you," said the doctor. "Is it this?" He held up the +French novel as he put the question. + +"I must own that I was not aware of the range of your accomplishments," +Iris answered. + +"Oh, don't talk of accomplishments! I learnt my profession in Paris. +For nigh on three years I lived among the French medical students. +Noticing this book on the table, I thought I would try whether I had +forgotten the language--in the time that has passed (you know) since +those days. Well, my memory isn't a good one in most things, but +strange to say (force of habit, I suppose), some of my French sticks by +me still. I hope I see you well, Miss Henley. Might I ask if you +noticed the new address, when I sent up my card?" + +"I only noticed your name." + +The doctor produced his pocket-book, and took out a second card. With +pride he pointed to the address: "5 Redburn Road, Hampstead Heath." +With pride he looked at his black clothes. "Strictly professional, +isn't it?" he said. "I have bought a new practice; and I have become a +new man. It isn't easy at first. No, by jingo--I beg your pardon--I was +about to say, my own respectability rather bothers me; I shall get used +to it in time. If you will allow me, I'll take a liberty. No offence, I +hope?" + +He produced a handful of his cards, and laid them out in a neat little +semicircle on the table. + +"A word of recommendation, when you have the chance, would be a +friendly act on your part," he explained. "Capital air in Redburn Road, +and a fine view of the Heath out of the garret windows--but it's rather +an out-of-the-way situation. Not that I complain; beggars mustn't be +choosers. I should have preferred a practice in a fashionable part of +London; but our little windfall of money--" + +He came to a full stop in the middle of a sentence. The sale of the +superb diamond pin, by means of which Lord Harry had repaid Mrs. +Vimpany's services, was, of all domestic events, the last which it +might be wise to mention in the presence of Miss Henley. He was +awkwardly silent. Taking advantage of that circumstance, Iris +introduced the subject in which she felt interested. + +"How is Mrs. Vimpany?" she asked. + +"Oh, she's all right!" + +"Does she like your new house?" + +The doctor made a strange reply. "I really can't tell you," he said. + +"Do you mean that Mrs. Vimpany declines to express an opinion?" + +He laughed. "In all my experience," he said, "I never met with a woman +who did that! No, no; the fact is, my wife and I have parted company. +There's no need to look so serious about it! Incompatibility of temper, +as the saying is, has led us to a friendly separation. Equally a relief +on both sides. She goes her way, I go mine." + +His tone disgusted Iris--and she let him see it. "Is it of any use to +ask you for Mrs. Vimpany's address?" she inquired. + +His atrocious good-humour kept its balance as steadily as ever: "Sorry +to disappoint you. Mrs. Vimpany hasn't given me her address. Curious, +isn't it? The fact is, she moped a good deal, after you left us; talked +of her duty, and the care of her soul, and that sort of thing. When I +hear where she is, I'll let you know with pleasure. To the best of my +belief, she's doing nurse's work somewhere." + +"Nurse's work? What do you mean?" + +"Oh, the right thing--all in the fashion. She belongs to what they call +a Sisterhood; goes about, you know, in a shabby black gown, with a poke +bonnet. At least, so Lord Harry told me the other day." + +In spite of herself, Iris betrayed the agitation which those words +instantly roused in her. "Lord Harry!" she exclaimed. "Where is he? In +London?" + +"Yes--at Parker's Hotel." + +"When did he return?" + +"Oh, a few days ago; and--what do you think?--he's come back from the +goldfields a lucky man. Damn it, I've let the cat out of the bag! I was +to keep the thing a secret from everybody, and from you most +particularly. He's got some surprise in store for you. Don't tell him +what I've done! We had a little misunderstanding, in past days, at +Honeybuzzard--and, now we are friends again, I don't want to lose his +lordship's interest." + +Iris promised to be silent. But to know that the wild lord was in +England again, and to remain in ignorance whether he had, or had not, +returned with the stain of bloodshed on him, was more than she could +endure. + +"There is one question I must ask you," she said. "I have reason to +fear that Lord Harry left this country, with a purpose of revenge--" + +Mr. Vimpany wanted no further explanation. "Yes, yes; I know. You may +be easy about that. There's been no mischief done, either one way or +the other. The man he was after, when he landed in South Africa (he +told me so himself) has escaped him." + +With that reply, the doctor got up in a hurry to bring his visit to an +end. He proposed to take to flight, he remarked facetiously, before +Miss Henley wheedled him into saying anything more. + +After opening the door, however, he suddenly returned to Iris, and +added a last word in the strictest confidence. + +"If you won't forget to recommend me to your friends," he said, "I'll +trust you with another secret. You will see his lordship in a day or +two, when he returns from the races. Good-bye." + +The races! What was Lord Harry doing at the races? + +CHAPTER XVII + +ON HAMPSTEAD HEATH + +IRIS had only to remember the manner in which she and Mountjoy had +disappointed her father, to perceive the serious necessity of +preventing Mountjoy's rival from paying a visit at Mr. Henley's house. + +She wrote at once to Lord Harry, at the hotel which Mr. Vimpany had +mentioned, entreating him not to think of calling on her. Being well +aware that he would insist on a meeting, she engaged to write again and +propose an appointment. In making this concession, Iris might have +found it easier to persuade herself that she was yielding to sheer +necessity, if she had not been guiltily conscious of a feeling of +pleasure at the prospect of seeing Lord Harry again, returning to her +an innocent man. There was some influence, in this train of thought, +which led her mind back to Hugh. She regretted his absence--wondered +whether he would have proposed throwing her letter to the Irish lord +into the fire--sighed, closed the envelope, and sent the letter to the +post. + +On the next day, she had arranged to drive to Muswell Hill, and to pay +the customary visit to Rhoda. Heavy rain obliged her to wait for a +fitter opportunity. It was only on the third day that the sky cleared, +and the weather was favourable again. On a sunshiny autumn morning, +with a fine keen air blowing, she ordered the open carriage. Noticing, +while Fanny Mere was helping her to dress, that the girl looked even +paler than usual, she said, with her customary kindness to persons +dependent on her, "You look as if a drive in the fresh air would do you +good--you shall go with me to the farm, and see Rhoda Bennet." + +When they stopped at the house, the farmer's wife appeared, attending a +gentleman to the door. Iris at once recognised the local medical man. +"You're not in attendance, I hope, on Rhoda Bennet?" she said. + +The doctor acknowledged that there had been some return of the nervous +derangement from which the girl suffered. He depended mainly (he said) +on the weather allowing her to be out as much as possible in the fresh +air, and on keeping her free from all agitation. Rhoda was so far on +the way to recovery, that she was now walking in the garden by his +advice. He had no fear of her, provided she was not too readily +encouraged, in her present state, to receive visitors. Her mistress +would be, of course, an exception to this rule. But even Miss Henley +would perhaps do well not to excite the girl by prolonging her visit. +There was one other suggestion which he would venture to make, while he +had the opportunity. Rhoda was not, as he thought, warmly enough +clothed for the time of year; and a bad cold might be easily caught by +a person in her condition. + +Iris entered the farm-house; leaving Fanny Mere, after what the doctor +had said on the subject of visitors, to wait for her in the carriage. + +After an absence of barely ten minutes Miss Henley returned; personally +changed, not at all to her own advantage, by the introduction of a +novelty in her dress. She had gone into the farmhouse, wearing a +handsome mantle of sealskin. When she came out again, the mantle had +vanished, and there appeared in its place a common cloak of +drab-coloured cloth. Noticing the expression of blank amazement in the +maid's face, Iris burst out laughing. + +"How do you think I look in my new cloak?" she asked. + +Fanny saw nothing to laugh at in the sacrifice of a sealskin mantle. "I +must not presume, Miss, to give an opinion," she said gravely. + +"At any rate," Iris continued, "you must be more than mortal if my +change of costume doesn't excite your curiosity. I found Rhoda Bennet +in the garden, exposed to the cold wind in this ugly flimsy thing. +After what the doctor had told me, it was high time to assert my +authority. I insisted on changing cloaks with Rhoda. She made an +attempt, poor dear, to resist; but she knows me of old--and I had my +way. I am sorry you have been prevented from seeing her; you shall not +miss the opportunity when she is well again. Do you admire a fine view? +Very well; we will vary the drive on our return. Go back," she said to +the coachman, "by Highgate and Hampstead." + +Fanny's eyes rested on the shabby cloak with a well-founded distrust of +it as a protection against the autumn weather. She ventured to suggest +that her mistress might feel the loss (in an open carriage) of the warm +mantle which she had left on Rhoda's shoulders. + +Iris made light of the doubt expressed by her maid. But by the time +they had passed Highgate, and had approached the beginning of the +straight road which crosses the high ridge of Hampstead Heath, she was +obliged to acknowledge that she did indeed feel the cold. "You ought to +be a good walker," she said, looking at her maid's firm well-knit +figure. "Exercise is all I want to warm me. What do you say to going +home on foot?" Fanny was ready and willing to accompany her mistress. +The carriage was dismissed, and they set forth on their walk. + +As they passed the inn called "The Spaniards," two women who were +standing at the garden gate stared at Iris, and smiled. A few paces +further on, they were met by an errand-boy. He too looked at the young +lady, and put his hand derisively to his head, with a shrill whistle +expressive of malicious enjoyment. "I appear to amuse these people," +Iris said. "What do they see in me?" + +Fanny answered with an effort to preserve her gravity, which was not +quite successfully disguised: "I beg your pardon, Miss; I think they +notice the curious contrast between your beautiful bonnet and your +shabby cloak." + +Persons of excitable temperament have a sense of ridicule, and a dread +of it, unintelligible to their fellow-creatures who are made of coarser +material. For the moment, Iris was angry. "Why didn't you tell me of +it," she asked sharply, "before I sent away the carriage? How can I +walk back, with everybody laughing at me?" + +She paused--reflected a little--and led the way off the high road, on +the right, to the fine clump of fir-trees which commands the famous +view in that part of the Heath. + +"There's but one thing to be done," she said, recovering her good +temper; "we must make my grand bonnet suit itself to my miserable +cloak. You will pull out the feather and rip off the lace (and keep +them for yourself, if you like), and then I ought to look shabby enough +from head to foot, I am sure! No; not here; they may notice us from the +road--and what may the fools not do when they see you tearing the +ornaments off my bonnet! Come down below the trees, where the ground +will hide us." + +They had nearly descended the steep slope which leads to the valley, +below the clump of firs, when they were stopped by a terrible +discovery. + +Close at their feet, in a hollow of the ground, was stretched the +insensible body of a man. He lay on his side, with his face turned away +from them. An open razor had dropped close by him. Iris stooped over +the prostate man, to examine his face. Blood flowing from a frightful +wound in his throat, was the first thing that she saw. Her eyes closed +instinctively, recoiling from that ghastly sight. The next instant she +opened them again, and saw his face. + +Dying or dead, it was the face of Lord Harry. + +The shriek that burst from her, on making that horrible discovery, was +heard by two men who were crossing the lower heath at some distance. +They saw the women, and ran to them. One of the men was a labourer; the +other, better dressed, looked like a foreman of works. He was the first +who arrived on the spot. + +"Enough to frighten you out of your senses, ladies," he said civilly. +"It's a case of suicide, I should say, by the look of it." + +"For God's sake, let us do something to help him!" Iris burst out. "I +know him! I know him!" + +Fanny, equal to the emergency, asked Miss Henley for her handkerchief, +joined her own handkerchief to it, and began to bandage the wound. "Try +if his pulse is beating," she said quietly to her mistress. The foreman +made himself useful by examining the suicide's pockets. Iris thought +she could detect a faint fluttering in the pulse. "Is there no doctor +living near?" she cried. "Is there no carriage to be found in this +horrible place?" + +The foreman had discovered two letters. Iris read her own name on one +of them. The other was addressed "To the person who may find my body." +She tore the envelope open. It contained one of Mr. Vimpany's cards, +with these desperate words written on it in pencil: "Take me to the +doctor's address, and let him bury me, or dissect me, whichever he +pleases." Iris showed the card to the foreman. "Is it near here?" she +asked. "Yes, Miss; we might get him to that place in no time, if there +was a conveyance of any kind to be found." Still preserving her +presence of mind, Fanny pointed in the direction of "The Spaniards" +inn. "We might get what we want there," she said. "Shall I go?" + +Iris signed to her to attend to the wounded man, and ascended the +sloping ground. She ran on towards the road. The men, directed by +Fanny, raised the body and slowly followed her, diverging to an easier +ascent. As Iris reached the road, a four-wheel cab passed her. Without +an instant's hesitation, she called to the driver to stop. He pulled up +his horse. She confronted a solitary gentleman, staring out of the +window of the cab, and looking as if he thought that a lady had taken a +liberty with him. Iris allowed the outraged stranger no opportunity of +expressing his sentiments. Breathless as she was, she spoke first. + +"Pray forgive me--you are alone in the cab--there is room for a +gentleman, dangerously wounded--he will bleed to death if we don't find +help for him--the place is close by--oh, don't refuse me!" She looked +back, holding fast by the cab door, and saw Fanny and the men slowly +approaching. "Bring him here!" she cried. + +"Do nothing of the sort!" shouted the gentleman in possession of the +cab. + +But Fanny obeyed her mistress; and the men obeyed Fanny. Iris turned +indignantly to the merciless stranger. "I ask you to do an act of +Christian kindness," she said. "How can you, how dare you, hesitate?" + +"Drive on!" cried the stranger. + +"Drive on, at your peril," Iris added, on her side. + +The cabman sat, silent and stolid, on the box, waiting for events. + +Slowly the men came in view, bearing Lord Harry, still insensible. The +handkerchiefs on his throat were saturated with blood. At that sight, +the cowardly instincts of the stranger completely mastered him. "Let me +out!" he clamoured; "let me out!" + +Finding the cab left at her disposal, Iris actually thanked him! He +looked at her with an evil eye. "I have my suspicions, I can tell you," +he muttered. "If this comes to a trial in a court of law, I'm not going +to be mixed up with it. Innocent people have been hanged before now, +when appearances were against them." + +He walked off; and, by way of completing the revelation of his own +meanness, forgot to pay his fare. + +On the point of starting the horse to pursue him, the cabman was +effectually stopped. Iris showed him a sovereign. Upon this hint (like +Othello) he spoke. + +"All right, Miss. I see your poor gentleman is a-bleeding. You'll take +care--won't you?--that he doesn't spoil my cushions." The driver was +not a ill-conditioned man; he put the case of his property indulgently, +with a persuasive smile. Iris turned to the two worthy fellows, who had +so readily given her their help, and bade them good-bye, with a solid +expression of her gratitude which they both remembered for many a long +day to come. Fanny was already in the cab supporting Lord Harry's body. +Iris joined her. The cabman drove carefully to Mr. Vimpany's new house. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +PROFESSIONAL ASSISTANCE + +NUMBER Five was near the centre of the row of little suburban houses +called Redburn Road. + +When the cab drew up at the door Mr. Vimpany himself was visible, +looking out of the window on the ground floor--and yawning as he +looked. Iris beckoned to him impatiently. "Anything wrong?" he asked, +as he approached the door of the cab. She drew back, and silently +showed him what was wrong. The doctor received the shock with +composure. When he happened to be sober and sad, looking for patients +and failing to find them, Mr. Vimpany's capacity for feeling sympathy +began and ended with himself. + +"This is a new scrape, even for Lord Harry," he remarked. "Let's get +him into the house." + +The insensible man was carried into the nearest room on the ground +floor. Pale and trembling, Iris related what had happened, and asked if +there was no hope of saving him. + +"Patience!" Mr. Vimpany answered; "I'll tell you directly." + +He removed the bandages, and examined the wound. "There's been a deal +of blood lost," he said; "I'll try and pull him through. While I am +about it, Miss, go upstairs, if you please, and find your way to the +drawing-room." Iris hesitated. The doctor opened a neat mahogany box. +"The tools of my trade," he continued; "I'm going to sew up his +lordship's throat." Shuddering as she heard those words, Iris hurried +out of the room. Fanny followed her mistress up the stairs. In her own +very different way, the maid was as impenetrably composed as Mr. +Vimpany himself. "There was a second letter found in the gentleman's +pocket, Miss," she said. "Will you excuse my reminding you that you +have not read it yet." + +Iris read the lines that follow: + +"Forgive me, my dear, for the last time. My letter is to say that I +shall trouble you no more in this world--and, as for the other world, +who knows? I brought some money back with me, from the goldfields. It +was not enough to be called a fortune--I mean the sort of fortune which +might persuade your father to let you marry me. Well! here in England, +I had an opportunity of making ten times more of it on the turf; and, +let me add, with private information of the horses which I might +certainly count on to win. I don't stop to ask by what cruel roguery I +was tempted to my ruin. My money is lost; and, with it, my last hope of +a happy and harmless life with you comes to an end. I die, Iris dear, +with the death of that hope. Something in me seems to shrink from +suicide in the ugly gloom of great overgrown London. I prefer to make +away with myself among the fields, where the green will remind me of +dear old Ireland. When you think of me sometimes, say to yourself the +poor wretch loved me--and perhaps the earth will lie lighter on Harry +for those kind words, and the flowers (if you favour me by planting a +few) may grow prettier on my grave." + +There it ended. + +The heart of Iris sank as she read that melancholy farewell, expressed +in language at once wild and childish. If he survived his desperate +attempt at self-destruction, to what end would it lead? In silence, the +woman who loved him put his letter back in her bosom. Watching her +attentively--affected, it was impossible to say how, by that mute +distress--Fanny Mere proposed to go downstairs, and ask once more what +hope there might be for the wounded man. Iris knew the doctor too well +to let the maid leave her on a useless errand. + +"Some men might be kindly ready to relieve my suspense," she said; "the +man downstairs is not one of them. I must wait till he comes to me, or +sends for me. But there is something I wish to say to you, while we are +alone. You have been but a short time in my service, Fanny. Is it too +soon to ask if you feel some interest in me?" + +"If I can comfort you or help you, Miss, be pleased to tell me how." +She made that reply respectfully, in her usual quiet manner; her pale +cheeks showing no change of colour, her faint blue eyes resting +steadily on her mistress's face. Iris went on: + +"If I ask you to keep what has happened, on this dreadful day, a secret +from everybody, may I trust you--little as you know of me--as I might +have trusted Rhoda Bennet?" + +"I promise it, Miss." In saying those few words, the undemonstrative +woman seemed to think that she had said enough. + +Iris had no alternative but to ask another favour. + +"And whatever curiosity you may feel, will you be content to do me a +kindness--without wanting an explanation?" + +"It is my duty to respect my mistress's secrets; I will do my duty." No +sentiment, no offer of respectful sympathy; a positive declaration of +fidelity, left impenetrably to speak for itself. Was the girl's heart +hardened by the disaster which had darkened her life? Or was she the +submissive victim of that inbred reserve, which shrinks from the frank +expression of feeling, and lives and dies self-imprisoned in its own +secrecy? A third explanation, founded probably on a steadier basis, was +suggested by Miss Henley's remembrance of their first interview. +Fanny's nature had revealed a sensitive side, when she was first +encouraged to hope for a refuge from ruin followed perhaps by +starvation and death. Judging so far from experience, a sound +conclusion seemed to follow. When circumstances strongly excited the +girl, there was a dormant vitality in her that revived. At other times +when events failed to agitate her by a direct appeal to personal +interests, her constitutional reserve held the rule. She could be +impenetrably honest, steadily industrious, truly grateful--but the +intuitive expression of feeling, on ordinary occasions, was beyond her +reach. + +After an interval of nearly half an hour, Mr. Vimpany made his +appearance. Pausing in the doorway, he consulted his watch, and entered +on a calculation which presented him favourably from a professional +point of view. + +"Allow for time lost in reviving my lord when he fainted, and stringing +him up with a drop of brandy, and washing my hands (look how clean they +are!), I haven't been more than twenty minutes in mending his throat. +Not bad surgery, Miss Henley." + +"Is his life safe, Mr. Vimpany?" + +"Thanks to his luck--yes." + +"His luck?" + +"To be sure! In the first place, he owes his life to your finding him +when you did; a little later, and it would have been all over with Lord +Harry. Second piece of luck: catching the doctor at home, just when he +was most wanted. Third piece of luck: our friend didn't know how to cut +his own throat properly. You needn't look black at me, Miss; I'm not +joking. A suicide with a razor in his hand has generally one chance in +his favour--he is ignorant of anatomy. That is my lord's case. He has +only cut through the upper fleshy part of his throat, and has missed +the larger blood vessels. Take my word for it, he will do well enough +now; thanks to you, thanks to me, and thanks to his own ignorance. What +do you say to that way of putting it? Ha! my brains are in good working +order to-day; I haven't been drinking any of Mr. Mountjoy's claret--do +you take the joke, Miss Henley?" + +Chuckling over the recollection of his own drunken audacity, he +happened to notice Fanny Mere. + +"Hullo! is this another injured person in want of me? You're as white +as a sheet, Miss. If you're going to faint, do me a favour--wait till I +can get the brandy-bottle. Oh! it's natural to you, is it? I see. A +thick skin and a slow circulation; you will live to be an old woman. A +friend of yours, Miss Henley?" + +Fanny answered composedly for herself: "I am Miss Henley's maid, sir." + +"What's become of the other one?" Mr. Vimpany asked. "Aye? aye? Staying +at a farm-house for the benefit of her health, is she? If I had been +allowed time enough, I would have made a cure of Rhoda Bennet. There +isn't a medical man in England who knows more than I do of the nervous +maladies of women--and what is my reward? Is my waiting-room crammed +with rich people coming to consult me? Do I live in a fashionable +Square? Have I even been made a Baronet? Damn it--I beg your pardon, +Miss Henley--but it is irritating, to a man of my capacity, to be +completely neglected. For the last three days not a creature has +darkened the doors of this house. Could I say a word to you?" + +He led Iris mysteriously into a corner of the room. "About our friend +downstairs?" he began. + +"When may we hope that he will be well again, Mr. Vimpany?" + +"Maybe in three weeks. In a month at most. I have nobody here but a +stupid servant girl. We ought to have a competent nurse. I can get a +thoroughly trained person from the hospital; but there's a little +difficulty. I am an outspoken man. When I am poor, I own I am poor. My +lord must be well fed; the nurse must be well fed. Would you mind +advancing a small loan, to provide beforehand for the payment of +expenses?" + +Iris handed her purse to him, sick of the sight of Mr. Vimpany. "Is +that all?" she asked, making for the door. + +"Much obliged. That's all." + +As they approached the room on the ground floor, Iris stopped: her eyes +rested on the doctor. Even to that coarse creature, the eloquent look +spoke for her. Fanny noticed it, and suddenly turned her head aside. +Over the maid's white face there passed darkly an expression of +unutterable contempt. Her mistress's weakness had revealed +itself--weakness for one of the betrayers of women; weakness for a man! +In the meantime, Mr. Vimpany (having got the money) was ready to humour +the enviable young lady with a well-filled purse. + +"Do you want to see my lord before you go?" he asked, amused at the +idea. "Mind! you mustn't disturb him! No talking, and no crying. Ready? +Now look at him." + +There he lay on a shabby little sofa, in an ugly little room; his eyes +closed; one helpless hand hanging down; a stillness on his ghastly +face, horribly suggestive of the stillness of death--there he lay, the +reckless victim of his love for the woman who had desperately renounced +him again and again, who had now saved him for the third time. Ah, how +her treacherous heart pleaded for him! Can you drive him away from you +after this? You, who love him, what does your cold-blooded prudence +say, when you look at him now? + +She felt herself drawn, roughly and suddenly, back into the passage. +The door was closed; the doctor was whispering to her. "Hold up, Miss! +I expected better things of you. Come! come!--no fainting. You'll find +him a different man to-morrow. Pay us a visit, and judge for yourself." + +After what she had suffered, Iris hungered for sympathy. "Isn't it +pitiable?" she said to her maid as they left the house. + +"I don't know, Miss." + +"You don't know? Good heavens, are you made of stone? Have you no such +thing as a heart in you?" + +"Not for the men," Fanny answered. "I keep my pity for the women." + +Iris knew what bitter remembrances made their confession in those +words. How she missed Rhoda Bennet at that moment! + +CHAPTER XIX + +MR. HENLEY AT HOME + +FOR a month, Mountjoy remained in his cottage on the shores of the +Solway Firth, superintending the repairs. + +His correspondence with Iris was regularly continued; and, for the +first time in his experience of her, was a cause of disappointment to +him. + +Her replies revealed an incomprehensible change in her manner of +writing, which became more and more marked in each succeeding instance. +Notice it as he might in his own letters, no explanation followed on +the part of his correspondent. She, who had so frankly confided her +joys and sorrows to him in past days, now wrote with a reserve which +seemed only to permit the most vague and guarded allusion to herself. +The changes in the weather; the alternation of public news that was +dull, and public news that was interesting; the absence of her father +abroad, occasioned by doubt of the soundness of his investments in +foreign securities; vague questions relating to Hugh's new place of +abode, which could only have proceeded from a preoccupied mind--these +were the topics on which Iris dwelt, in writing to her faithful old +friend. It was hardly possible to doubt that something must have +happened, which she had reasons--serious reasons, as it seemed only too +natural to infer--for keeping concealed from Mountjoy. Try as he might +to disguise it from himself, he now knew how dear, how hopelessly dear, +she was to him by the anxiety that he suffered, and by the jealous +sense of injury which defied his self-command. His immediate +superintendence of the workmen at the cottage was no longer necessary. +Leaving there a representative whom he could trust, he resolved to +answer his last letter, received from Iris, in person. + +The next day he was in London. + +Calling at the house, he was informed that Miss Henley was not at home, +and that it was impossible to say with certainty when she might return. +While he was addressing his inquiries to the servant, Mr. Henley opened +the library door. "Is that you, Mountjoy?" he asked. "Come in: I want +to speak to you." + +Short and thick-set, with a thin-lipped mouth, a coarsely-florid +complexion, and furtive greenish eyes; hard in his manner, and harsh in +his voice; Mr. Henley was one of the few heartless men, who are +innocent of deception on the surface: he was externally a person who +inspired, at first sight, feelings of doubt and dislike. His manner +failed to show even a pretence of being glad to see Hugh. What he had +to say, he said walking up and down the room, and scratching his +bristly iron-gray hair from time to time. Those signs of restlessness +indicated, to those who knew him well, that he had a selfish use to +make of a fellow-creature, and failed to see immediately how to reach +the end in view. + +"I say, Mountjoy," he began, "have you any idea of what my daughter is +about?" + +"I don't even understand what you mean," Hugh replied. "For the last +month I have been in Scotland." + +"You and she write to each other, don't you?" + +"Yes." + +"Hasn't she told you--" + +"Excuse me for interrupting you, Mr. Henley; she has told me nothing." + +Mr. Henley stared absently at the superbly-bound books on his +library-shelves (never degraded by the familiar act of reading), and +scratched his head more restlessly than ever. + +"Look here, young man. When you were staying with me in the country, I +rather hoped it might end in a marriage engagement. You and Iris +disappointed me--not for the first time. But women do change their +minds. Suppose she had changed her mind, after having twice refused +you? Suppose she had given you an opportunity--" + +Hugh interrupted him again. "It's needless to suppose anything of the +sort, sir; she would not have given me an opportunity." + +"Don't fence with me, Mountjoy! I'll put it in a milder way, if you +prefer being humbugged. Do you feel any interest in that perverse girl +of mine?" + +Hugh answered readily and warmly: "The truest interest!" + +Even Mr. Henley was human; his ugly face looked uglier still. It +assumed the self-satisfied expression of a man who had carried his +point. + +"Now I can go on, my friend, with what I had to say to you. I have been +abroad on business, and only came back the other day. The moment I saw +Iris I noticed something wrong about her. If I had been a stranger, I +should have said: That young woman is not easy in her mind. Perfectly +useless to speak to her about it. Quite happy and quite well--there was +her own account of herself. I tried her maid next, a white-livered +sulky creature, one of the steadiest liars I have ever met with. 'I +know of nothing amiss with my mistress, sir.' There was the maid's way +of keeping the secret, whatever it may be! I don't know whether you may +have noticed it, in the course of your acquaintance with me--I hate to +be beaten." + +"No, Mr. Henley, I have not noticed it." + +"Then you are informed of it now. Have you seen my housekeeper?" + +"Once or twice, sir." + +"Come! you're improving; we shall make something of you in course of +time. Well, the housekeeper was the next person I spoke to about my +daughter. Had she seen anything strange in Miss Iris, while I was away +from home? There's a dash of malice in my housekeeper's composition; I +don't object to a dash of malice. When the old woman is pleased, she +shows her yellow fangs. She had something to tell me: 'The servants +have been talking, sir, about Miss Iris.' 'Out with it, ma'am! what do +they say?' 'They notice, sir, that their young lady has taken to going +out in the forenoon, regularly every day: always by herself, and always +in the same direction. I don't encourage the servants, Mr. Henley: +there was something insolent in the tone of suspicion that they +adopted. I told them that Miss Iris was merely taking her walk. They +reminded me that it must be a cruelly long walk; Miss Iris being away +regularly for four or five hours together, before she came back to the +house. After that' (says the housekeeper) 'I thought it best to drop +the subject.' What do you think of it yourself, Mountjoy? Do you call +my daughter's conduct suspicious?" + +"I see nothing suspicious, Mr. Henley. When Iris goes out, she visits a +friend." + +"And always goes in the same direction, and always visits the same +friend," Mr. Henley added. "I felt a curiosity to know who that friend +might be; and I made the discovery yesterday. When you were staying in +my house in the country, do you remember the man who waited on you?" + +Mountjoy began to feel alarmed for Iris; he answered as briefly as +possible. + +"Your valet," he said. + +"That's it! Well, I took my valet into my confidence--not for the first +time, I can tell you: an invaluable fellow. When Iris went out +yesterday, he tracked her to a wretched little suburban place near +Hampstead Heath, called Redburn Road. She rang the bell at Number Five, +and was at once let in--evidently well known there. My clever man made +inquiries in the neighbourhood. The house belongs to a doctor, who has +lately taken it. Name of Vimpany." + +Mountjoy was not only startled, but showed it plainly. Mr. Henley, +still pacing backwards and forwards, happened by good fortune to have +his back turned towards his visitor, at that moment. + +"Now I ask you, as a man of the world," Mr. Henley resumed, "what does +this mean? If you're too cautious to speak out--and I must say it looks +like it--shall I set you the example?" + +"Just as you please, sir." + +"Very well, then; I'll tell you what I suspect. When Iris is at home, +and when there's something amiss in my family, I believe that scoundrel +Lord Harry to be at the bottom of it. There's my experience, and +there's my explanation. I was on the point of ordering my carriage, to +go to the doctor myself, and insist on knowing what the attraction is +that takes my daughter to his house, when I heard your voice in the +hall. You tell me you are interested in Iris. Very well; you are just +the man to help me." + +"May I ask how, Mr. Henley?" + +"Of course you may. You can find your way to her confidence, if you +choose to try; she will trust you, when she won't trust her father. I +don't care two straws about her other secrets; but I do want to know +whether she is, or is not, plotting to marry the Irish blackguard. +Satisfy me about that, and you needn't tell me anything more. May I +count on you to find out how the land lies?" + +Mountjoy listened, hardly able to credit the evidence of his own +senses; he was actually expected to insinuate himself into the +confidence of Iris, and then to betray her to her father! He rose, and +took his hat--and, without even the formality of a bow, opened the +door. + +"Does that mean No?" Mr. Henley called after him. + +"Most assuredly," Mountjoy answered--and closed the door behind him. + +CHAPTER XX + +FIRST SUSPICIONS OF IRIS + +FROM the last memorable day, on which Iris had declared to him that he +might always count on her as his friend, but never as his wife, Hugh +had resolved to subject his feelings to a rigorous control. As to +conquering his hopeless love, he knew but too well that it would +conquer him, on any future occasion when he and Iris happened to meet. + +He had been true to his resolution, at what cost of suffering he, and +he alone knew. Sincerely, unaffectedly, he had tried to remain her +friend. But the nature of the truest and the firmest man has its weak +place, where the subtle influence of a woman is concerned. Deeply +latent, beyond the reach of his own power of sounding, there was +jealousy of the Irish lord lurking in Mountjoy, and secretly leading +his mind when he hesitated in those emergencies of his life which were +connected with Iris. Ignorant of the influence which was really +directing him, he viewed with contempt Mr. Henley's suspicions of a +secret understanding between his daughter and the man who was, by her +own acknowledgment, unworthy of the love with which it had been her +misfortune to regard him. At the same time, Hugh's mind was reluctantly +in search of an explanation, which might account (without degrading +Iris) for her having been traced to the doctor's house. In his +recollection of events at the old country town, he found a motive for +her renewal of intercourse with such a man as Mr. Vimpany, in the +compassionate feeling with which she regarded the doctor's unhappy +wife. There might well be some humiliating circumstance, recently added +to the other trials of Mrs. Vimpany's married life, which had appealed +to all that was generous and forgiving in the nature of Iris. Knowing +nothing of the resolution to live apart which had latterly separated +the doctor and his wife, Mountjoy decided on putting his idea to the +test by applying for information to Mrs. Vimpany at her husband's +house. + +In the nature of a sensitive man the bare idea of delay, under these +circumstances, was unendurable. Hugh called the first cab that passed +him, and drove to Hampstead. + +Careful--morbidly careful, perhaps--not to attract attention needlessly +to himself, he stopped the cab at the entrance to Redburn Road, and +approached Number Five on foot. A servant-girl answered the door. +Mountjoy asked if Mrs. Vimpany was at home. + +The girl made no immediate reply. She seemed to be puzzled by +Mountjoy's simple question. Her familiar manner, with its vulgar +assumption of equality in the presence of a stranger, revealed the +London-bred maid-servant of modern times. "Did you say _Mrs._ Vimpany?" +she inquired sharply. + +"Yes." + +"There's no such person here." + +It was Mountjoy's turn to be puzzled. "Is this Mr. Vimpany's house?" he +said. + +"Yes, to be sure it is." + +"And yet Mrs. Vimpany doesn't live here?" + +"No Mrs. Vimpany has darkened these doors," the girl declared +positively. + +"Are you sure you are not making a mistake?" + +"Quite sure. I have been in the doctor's service since he first took +the house." + +Determined to solve the mystery, if it could be done, Mountjoy asked if +he could see the doctor. No: Mr. Vimpany had gone out. + +"There's a young person comes to us," the servant continued. "I wonder +whether you mean her, when you ask for Mrs. Vimpany? The name _she_ +gives is Henley." + +"Is Miss Henley here, now?" + +"You can't see her--she's engaged." + +She was not engaged with Mrs. Vimpany, for no such person was known in +the house. She was not engaged with the doctor, for the doctor had gone +out. Mountjoy looked at the hat-stand in the passage, and discovered a +man's hat and a man's greatcoat. To whom did they belong? Certainly not +to Mr. Vimpany, who had gone out. Repellent as it was, Mr. Henley's +idea that the explanation of his daughter's conduct was to be found in +the renewed influence over her of the Irish lord, now presented itself +to Hugh's mind under a new point of view. He tried in vain to resist +the impression that had been produced on him. A sense of injury, which +he was unable to justify to himself, took possession of him. Come what +might of it, he determined to set at rest the doubts of which he was +ashamed, by communicating with Iris. His card-case proved to be empty +when he opened it; but there were letters in his pocket, addressed to +him at his hotel in London. Removing the envelope from one of these, he +handed it to the servant: "Take that to Miss Henley, and ask when I can +see her." + +The girl left him in the passage, and went upstairs to the +drawing-room. + +In the flimsily-built little house, he could hear the heavy step of a +man, crossing the room above, and then the resonant tones of a man's +voice raised as if in anger. Had she given him already the right to be +angry with her? He thought of the time, when the betrayal of Lord +Harry's vindictive purpose in leaving England had frightened her--when +he had set aside his own sense of what was due to him, for her +sake--and had helped her to communicate, by letter, with the man whose +fatal ascendency over Iris had saddened his life. Was what he heard, +now, the return that he had deserved? + +After a short absence, the servant came back with a message. + +"Miss Henley begs you will excuse her. She will write to you." + +Would this promised letter be like the other letters which he had +received from her in Scotland? Mountjoy's gentler nature reminded him +that he owed it to his remembrance of happier days, and truer +friendship, to wait and see. + +He was just getting into the cab, on his return to London, when a +closed carriage, with one person in it, passed him on its way to +Redburn Road. In that person he recognised Mr. Henley. As the +cab-driver mounted to his seat, Hugh saw the carriage stop at Number +Five. + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE PARTING SCENE + +THE evening had advanced, and the candles had just been lit in +Mountjoy's sitting-room at the hotel. + +His anxiety to hear from Iris had been doubled and trebled, since he +had made the discovery of her father's visit to the doctor's house, at +a time when it was impossible to doubt that Lord Harry was with her. +Hugh's jealous sense of wrong was now mastered by the nobler emotions +which filled him with pity and alarm, when he thought of Iris placed +between the contending claims of two such men as the heartless Mr. +Henley and the reckless Irish lord. He had remained at the hotel, +through the long afternoon, on the chance that she might write to him +speedily by the hand of a messenger--and no letter had arrived. He was +still in expectation of news which might reach him by the evening post, +when the waiter knocked at the door. + +"A letter?" Mountjoy asked. + +"No, sir," the man answered; "a lady." + +Before she could raise her veil, Hugh had recognised Iris. Her manner +was subdued; her face was haggard; her hand lay cold and passive in his +hand, when he advanced to bid her welcome. He placed a chair for her by +the fire. She thanked him and declined to take it. With the air of a +woman conscious of committing an intrusion, she seated herself apart in +a corner of the room. + +"I have tried to write to you, and I have not been able to do it." She +said that with a dogged resignation of tone and manner, so unlike +herself that Mountjoy looked at her in dismay. "My friend," she went +on, "your pity is all I may hope for; I am no longer worthy of the +interest you once felt in me." + +Hugh saw that it would be useless to remonstrate. He asked if it had +been his misfortune to offend her. + +"No," she said, "you have not offended me." + +"Then what in Heaven's name does this change in you mean?" + +"It means," she said, as coldly as ever, "that I have lost my +self-respect; it means that my father has renounced me, and that you +will do well to follow his example. Have I not led you to believe that +I could never be the wife of Lord Harry? Well, I have deceived you---I +am going to marry him." + +"I can't believe it, Iris! I won't believe it!" + +She handed him the letter, in which the Irishman had declared his +resolution to destroy himself. Hugh read it with contempt. "Did my +lord's heart fail him?" he asked scornfully. + +"He would have died by his own hand, Mr. Mountjoy----" + +"Oh, Iris--_'Mr.!'"_ + +"I will say 'Hugh,' if you prefer it--but the days of our familiar +friendship are none the less at an end. I found Lord Harry bleeding to +death from a wound in his throat. It was in a lonely place on Hampstead +Heath; I was the one person who happened to pass by it. For the third +time, you see, it has been my destiny to save him. How can I forget +that? My mind will dwell on it. I try to find happiness--oh, only +happiness enough for me--in cheering my poor Irishman, on his way back +to the life that I have preserved. There is my motive, if I have a +motive. Day after day I have helped to nurse him. Day after day I have +heard him say things to me--what is the use of repeating them? After +years of resistance I have given way; let that be enough. My one act of +discretion has been to prevent a quarrel between my father and Harry. I +beg your pardon, I ought to have said Lord Harry. When my father came +to the house, I insisted on speaking with him alone. I told him what I +have just told you. He said: 'Think again before you make your choice +between that man and me. If you decide to marry him, you will live and +die without one farthing of my money to help you.' He put his watch on +the table between us, and gave me five minutes to make up my mind. It +was a long five minutes, but it ended at last. He asked me which he was +to do--leave his will as it was, or go to his lawyer and make another. +I said, 'You will do as you please, sir.' No; it was not a hasty +reply--you can't make that excuse for me. I knew what I was saying; and +I saw the future I was preparing for myself, as plainly as you see +it--" + +Hugh could endure no longer the reckless expression of her despair. + +"No!" he cried, "you don't see your future as I see it. Will you hear +what I have to say, before it is too late?" + +"It is too late already. But I will listen to you if you wish it." + +"And, while you listen," Mountjoy added, "you will acquit me of being +influenced by a selfish motive. I have loved you dearly. Perhaps, in +secret, I love you still. But, this I know: if you were to remain a +single woman for the rest of your life, there would be no hope for Me. +Do you believe that I am speaking the truth?" + +"You always speak the truth." + +"I speak in your interest, at least. You think you see your future life +plainly--you are blind to your future life. You talk as if you were +resigned to suffer. Are you resigned to lose your sense of right and +wrong? Are you resigned to lead the life of an outlaw, and--worse +still--not to feel the disgrace of it?" + +"Go on, Hugh." + +"You won't answer me?" + +"I won't shock you." + +"You don't discourage me, my dear; I am still obstinate in the hope of +restoring you to your calmer and truer self. Let me do every justice to +Lord Harry. I believe, sincerely believe, that his miserable life has +not utterly destroyed in him the virtues which distinguish an +honourable man. But he has one terrible defect. In his nature, there is +the fatal pliability which finds companionable qualities in bad +friends. In this aspect of his character, he is a dangerous man--and he +may be (forgive me!) a bad husband. It is a thankless task to warn you +to any good purpose. A wife--and a loving wife more than another--feels +the deteriorating influence of a husband who is not worthy of her. His +ways of thinking are apt to become, little by little, her ways of +thinking. She makes allowances for him, which he does not deserve; her +sense of right and wrong becomes confused; and before she is aware of +it herself, she has sunk to his level. Are you angry with me?" + +"How can I be angry with you? Perhaps you are right." + +"Do you really mean that?" + +"Oh, yes." + +"Then, for God's sake, reconsider your decision! Let me go to your +father." + +"Mere waste of time," Iris answered. "Nothing that you can say will +have the least effect on him." + +"At any rate," Mountjoy persisted, "I mean to try." + +Had he touched her? She smiled--how bitterly Hugh failed to perceive. + +"Shall I tell you what happened to me when I went home to-day?" she +said. "I found my maid waiting in the hall--with everything that +belongs to me, packed up for my departure. The girl explained that she +had been forced to obey my father's positive orders. I knew what that +meant--I had to leave the house, and find a place to live in." + +"Not by yourself, Iris?" + +"No--with my maid. She is a strange creature; if she feels sympathy, +she never expresses it. 'I am your grateful servant, Miss. Where you +go, I go.' That was all she said; I was not disappointed--I am getting +used to Fanny Mere already. Mine is a lonely lot--isn't it? I have +acquaintances among the few ladies who sometimes visit at my father's +house, but no friends. My mother's family, as I have always been told, +cast her off when she married a man in trade, with a doubtful +reputation. I don't even know where my relations live. Isn't Lord Harry +good enough for me, as I am now? When I look at my prospects, is it +wonderful if I talk like a desperate woman? There is but one +encouraging circumstance that I can see. This misplaced love of mine +that everybody condemns has, oddly enough, a virtue that everybody must +admire. It offers a refuge to a woman who is alone in the world." + +Mountjoy denied indignantly that she was alone in the world. + +"Is there any protection that a man can offer to a woman," he asked, +"which I am not ready and eager to offer to You? Oh, Iris, what have I +done to deserve that you should speak of yourself as friendless in my +hearing!" + +He had touched her at last. Their tender charm showed itself once more +in her eyes and in her smile. She rose and approached him. + +"What exquisite kindness it must be," she said, "that blinds a clever +man like you to obstacles which anyone else can see! Remember, dear +Hugh, what the world would say to that protection which your true heart +offers to me. Are you my near relation? are you my guardian? are you +even an old man? Ah me! you are only an angel of goodness whom I must +submit to lose. I shall still count on your kindness when we see each +other no more. You will pity me, when you hear that I have fallen lower +and lower; you will be sorry for me, when I end in disgracing myself." + +"Even then, Iris, we shall not be separated. The loving friend who is +near you now, will be your loving friend still." + +For the first time in her life, she threw her arms round him. In the +agony of that farewell, she held him to her bosom. "Goodbye, dear," she +said faintly--and kissed him. + +The next moment, a deadly pallor overspread her face. She staggered as +she drew back, and dropped into the chair that she had just left. In +the fear that she might faint, Mountjoy hurried out in search of a +restorative. His bed-chamber was close by, at the end of the corridor; +and there were smelling-salts in his dressing-case. As he raised the +lid, he heard the door behind him, the one door in the room, locked +from the outer side. + +He rushed to the door, and called to her. From the farther end of the +corridor, her voice reached him for the last time, repeating the last +melancholy word: "Good-bye." No renewal of the miserable parting scene: +no more of the heartache--Iris had ended it! + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE FATAL WORDS + +WHEN Mountjoy had rung for the servant, and the bedroom door had been +unlocked, it was too late to follow the fugitive. Her cab was waiting +for her outside; and the attention of the porter had been distracted, +at the same time, by a new arrival of travellers at the hotel. + +It is more or less in the nature of all men who are worthy of the name, +to take refuge from distress in action. Hugh decided on writing to +Iris, and on making his appeal to her father, that evening. He +abstained from alluding, in his letter, to the manner in which she had +left him; it was her right, it was even her duty to spare herself. All +that he asked was to be informed of her present place of residence, so +that he might communicate the result--in writing only if she preferred +it--of his contemplated interview with her father. He addressed his +letter to the care of Mr. Vimpany, to be forwarded, and posted it +himself. + +This done, he went on at once to Mr. Henley's house. + +The servant who opened the door had evidently received his orders. Mr. +Henley was "not at home." Mountjoy was in no humour to be trifled with. +He pushed the man out of his way, and made straight for the +dining-room. There, as his previous experience of the habits of the +household had led him to anticipate, was the man whom he was determined +to see. The table was laid for Mr. Henley's late dinner. + +Hugh's well-meant attempt to plead the daughter's cause with the father +ended as Iris had said it would end. + +After hotly resenting the intrusion on him that had been committed, Mr. +Henley declared that a codicil to his will, depriving his daughter +absolutely of all interest in his property, had been legally executed +that day. For a time, Mountjoy's self-control had resisted the most +merciless provocation. All that it was possible to effect, by patient +entreaty and respectful remonstrance, he had tried again and again, and +invariably in vain. At last, Mr. Henley's unbridled insolence +triumphed. Hugh lost his temper--and, in leaving the heartless old man, +used language which he afterwards remembered with regret. + +To feel that he had attempted to assert the interests of Iris, and that +he had failed, was, in Hugh's heated state of mind, an irresistible +stimulant to further exertion. It was perhaps not too late yet to make +another attempt to delay (if not to prevent) the marriage. + +In sheer desperation, Mountjoy resolved to inform Lord Harry that his +union with Miss Henley would be followed by the utter ruin of her +expectations from her father. Whether the wild lord only considered his +own interests, or whether he was loyally devoted to the interests of +the woman whom he loved, in either case the penalty to be paid for the +marriage was formidable enough to make him hesitate. + +The lights in the lower window, and in the passage, told Hugh that he +had arrived in good time at Redburn Road. + +He found Mr. Vimpany and the young Irishman sitting together, in the +friendliest manner, under the composing influence of tobacco. Primed, +as he would have said himself, with only a third glass of grog, the +hospitable side of the doctor's character was displayed to view. He at +once accepted Mountjoy's visit as offering a renewal of friendly +relations between them. + +"Forgive and forget," he said, "there's the way to settle that little +misunderstanding, after our dinner at the inn. You know Mr. Mountjoy, +my lord? That's right. Draw in your chair, Mountjoy. My professional +prospects threaten me with ruin--but while I have a roof over my head, +there's always a welcome for a friend. My dear fellow, I have every +reason to believe that the doctor who sold me this practice was a +swindler. The money is gone, and the patients don't come. Well! I am +not quite bankrupt yet; I can offer you a glass of grog. Mix for +yourself--we'll make a night of it." + +Hugh explained (with the necessary excuses) that his object was to say +a few words to Lord Harry in private. The change visible in the +doctor's manner, when he had been made acquainted with this +circumstance, was not amiably expressed; he had the air of a man who +suspected that an unfair advantage had been taken of him. Lord Harry, +on his side, appeared to feel some hesitation in granting a private +interview to Mr. Mountjoy. + +"Is it about Miss Henley?" he asked. + +Hugh admitted that it was. Lord Harry thereupon suggested that they +might be acting wisely if they avoided the subject. Mountjoy answered +that there were, on the contrary, reasons for approaching the subject +sufficiently important to have induced him to leave London for +Hampstead at a late hour of the night. + +Hearing this, Lord Harry rose to lead the way to another room. Excluded +from his visitor's confidence, Mr. Vimpany could at least remind +Mountjoy that he exercised authority as master of the house. "Oh, take +him upstairs, my lord," said the doctor; "you are at home under my +humble roof!" + +The two young men faced each other in the barely-furnished +drawing-room; both sufficiently doubtful of the friendly result of the +conference to abstain from seating themselves. Hugh came to the point, +without wasting time in preparatory words. Admitting that he had heard +of Miss Henley's engagement, he asked if Lord Harry was aware of the +disastrous consequences to the young lady which would follow her +marriage. The reply to this was frankly expressed. The Irish lord knew +nothing of the consequences to which Mr. Mountjoy had alluded. Hugh at +once enlightened him, and evidently took him completely by surprise. + +"May I ask, sir," he said, "if you are speaking from your own personal +knowledge?" + +"I have just come, my lord, from Mr. Henley's house; and what I have +told you, I heard from his own lips." + +There was a pause. Hugh was already inclined to think that he had +raised an obstacle to the immediate celebration of the marriage. A +speedy disappointment was in store for him. Lord Harry was too fond of +Iris to be influenced, in his relations with her, by mercenary +considerations. + +"You put it strongly," he said. "But let me tell you, Miss Henley is +far from being so dependent on her father--he ought to be ashamed of +himself, but that's neither here nor there--I say, she is far from +being so dependent on her father as you seem to think. I am not, I beg +to inform you, without resources which I shall offer to her with all my +heart and soul. Perhaps you wish me to descend to particulars? Oh, it's +easily done; I have sold my cottage in Ireland." + +"For a large sum--in these times?" Hugh inquired. + +"Never mind the sum, Mr. Mountjoy--let the fact be enough for you. And, +while we are on the question of money (a disgusting question, with +which I refuse to associate the most charming woman in existence), +don't forget that Miss Henley has an income of her own; derived, as I +understand, from her mother's fortune, You will do me the justice, sir, +to believe that I shall not touch a farthing of it." + +"Certainly! But her mother's fortune," Mountjoy continued, obstinately +presenting the subject on its darkest side, "consists of shares in a +Company. Shares rise and fall--and Companies some times fail." + +"And a friend's anxiety about Miss Henley's affairs sometimes takes a +mighty disagreeable form," the Irishman added, his temper beginning to +show itself without disguise. "Let's suppose the worst that can happen, +and get all the sooner to the end of a conversation which is far from +being agreeable to me. We'll say, if you like, that Miss Henley's +shares are waste paper, and her pockets (God bless her!) as empty as +pockets can be, does she run any other risk that occurs to your +ingenuity in becoming my wife?" + +"Yes, she does!" Hugh was provoked into saying. "In the case you have +just supposed, she runs the risk of being left a destitute widow--if +you die." + +He was prepared for an angry reply--for another quarrel added, on that +disastrous night, to the quarrel with Mr. Henley. To his astonishment, +Lord Harry's brightly-expressive eyes rested on him with a look of +mingled distress and alarm. "God forgive me!" he said to himself, "I +never thought of that! What am I to do? what am I to do?" + +Mountjoy observed that deep discouragement, and failed to understand +it. + +Here was a desperate adventurer, whose wanderings had over and over +again placed his life in jeopardy, now apparently overcome by merely +having his thoughts directed to the subject of death! To place on the +circumstances such a construction as this was impossible, after a +moment's reflection. The other alternative was to assume that there +must be some anxiety burdening Lord Harry's mind, which he had motives +for keeping concealed--and here indeed the true explanation had been +found. The Irish lord had reasons, known only to himself, for recoiling +from the contemplation of his own future. After the murder of Arthur +Mountjoy, he had severed his connection with the assassinating +brotherhood of the Invincibles; and he had then been warned that he +took this step at the peril of his life, if he remained in Great +Britain after he had made himself an object of distrust to his +colleagues. The discovery, by the secret tribunal, of his return from +South Africa would be followed inevitably by the sentence of death. +Such was the terrible position which Mountjoy's reply had ignorantly +forced him to confront. His fate depended on the doubtful security of +his refuge in the doctor's house. + +While Hugh was still looking at him, in grave doubt, a new idea seemed +to spring to life in Lord Harry's mind. He threw off the oppression +that had weighed on his spirits in an instant. His manner towards +Mountjoy changed, with the suddenness of a flash of light, from the +extreme of coldness to the extreme of cordiality. + +"I have got it at last!" he exclaimed. "Let's shake hands. My dear sir, +you're the best friend I have ever had!" + +The cool Englishman asked: "In what way?" + +"In this way, to be sure! You have reminded me that I can provide for +Miss Henley--and the sooner the better. There's our friend the doctor +down-stairs, ready to be my reference. Don't you see it?" + +Obstacles that might prevent the marriage Mountjoy was ready enough to +see. Facilities that might hasten the marriage found his mind hard of +access to new impressions. + +"Are you speaking seriously?" he said. + +The Irishman's irritable temper began to show itself again. + +"Why do you doubt it?" he asked. + +"I fail to understand you," Mountjoy replied. + +Never--as events were yet to prove--had words of such serious import +fallen from Lord Harry's lips as the words that he spoke next. + +"Clear your mind of jealousy," he said, "and you will understand me +well enough. I agree with you that I am bound to provide for my +widow--and I mean to do it by insuring my life." + +THE END OF THE SECOND PERIOD + + +THIRD PERIOD + +CHAPTER XXIII + +NEWS OF IRIS + +AFTER his interview with the Irish lord, Mountjoy waited for two days, +in the expectation of hearing from Iris. No reply arrived. Had Mr. +Vimpany failed to forward the letter that had been entrusted to him? + +On the third day, Hugh wrote to make inquiries. + +The doctor returned the letter that had been confided to his care, and +complained in his reply of the ungrateful manner in which he had been +treated. Miss Henley had not trusted him with her new address in +London; and Lord Harry had suddenly left Redburn Road; bidding his host +goodbye in a few lines of commonplace apology, and nothing more. Mr. +Vimpany did not deny that he had been paid for his medical services; +but, he would ask, was nothing due to friendship? Was one man justified +in enjoying another man's hospitality, and then treating him like a +stranger? "I have done with them both--and I recommend you, my dear +sir, to follow my example." In those terms the angry (and sober) doctor +expressed his sentiments, and offered his advice. + +Mountjoy laid down the letter in despair. + +His last poor chance of preventing the marriage depended on his being +still able to communicate with Iris--and she was as completely lost to +him as if she had taken flight to the other end of the world. It might +have been possible to discover her by following the movements of Lord +Harry, but he too had disappeared without leaving a trace behind him. +The precious hours and days were passing--and Hugh was absolutely +helpless. + +Tortured by anxiety and suspense, he still lingered at the hotel in +London. More than once, he decided on giving up the struggle, and +returning to his pretty cottage in Scotland. More than once, he +deferred taking the journey. At one time, he dreaded to hear that Iris +was married, if she wrote to him. At another time, be felt mortified +and disappointed by the neglect which her silence implied. Was she near +him, or far from him? In England, or out of England? Who could say! + +After more weary days of waiting and suffering a letter arrived, +addressed to Mountjoy in a strange handwriting, and bearing the +post-mark of Paris. The signature revealed that his correspondent was +Lord Harry. + +His first impulse was to throw the letter into the fire, unread. There +could be little doubt, after the time that had passed, of the +information that it would contain. Could he endure to be told of the +marriage of Iris, by the man who was her husband? Never! There was +something humiliating in the very idea of it. He arrived at that +conclusion--and what did he do in spite of it? He read the letter. + +Lord Harry wrote with scrupulous politeness of expression. He regretted +that circumstances had prevented him from calling on Mr. Mountjoy, +before he left England. After the conversation that had taken place at +Mr. Vimpany's house, he felt it his duty to inform Mr. Mountjoy that he +had insured his life--and, he would add, for a sum of money amply, and +more than amply, sufficient to provide for his wife in the event of her +surviving him. Lady Harry desired her kind regards, and would write +immediately to her old and valued friend. In the meantime, he would +conclude by repeating the expression of his sense of obligation to Mr. +Mountjoy. + +Hugh looked back at the first page of the letter, in search of the +writer's address. It was simply, "Paris." The intention to prevent any +further correspondence, or any personal communication, could hardly +have been more plainly implied. In another moment, the letter was in +the fire. + +In two days more, Hugh heard from Iris. + +She, too, wrote regretfully of the sudden departure from England; +adding, however, that it was her own doing. A slip of the tongue, on +Lord Harry's part, in the course of conversation, had led her to fear +that he was still in danger from political conspirators with whom he +had imprudently connected himself. She had accordingly persuaded him to +tell her the whole truth, and had thereupon insisted on an immediate +departure for the Continent. She and her husband were now living in +Paris; Lord Harry having friends in that city whose influence might +prove to be of great importance to his pecuniary prospects. Some +sentences followed, expressing the writer's grateful remembrance of all +that she had owed to Hugh in past days, and her earnest desire that +they might still hear of each other, from time to time, by +correspondence. She could not venture to anticipate the pleasure of +receiving a visit from him, under present circumstances. But, she hoped +that he would not object to write to her, addressing his letters, for +the present, to post-restante. + +In a postscript a few words were added, alluding to Mr. Vimpany. Hugh +was requested not to answer any inquiries which that bad man might +venture to make, relating to her husband or to herself. In the bygone +days, she had been thankful to the doctor for the care which he had +taken, medically speaking, of Rhoda Bonnet. But, since that time, his +behaviour to his wife, and the opinions which he had expressed in +familiar conversation with Lord Harry, had convinced her that he was an +unprincipled person. All further communication with him (if her +influence could prevent it) must come to an end. + +Still as far as ever from feeling reconciled to the marriage, Mountjoy +read this letter with a feeling of resentment which disinclined him to +answer it. + +He believed (quite erroneously) that Iris had written to him under the +superintendence of her husband. There were certain phrases which had +been, as he chose to suspect, dictated by Lord Harry's distrust-- +jealous distrust, perhaps--of his wife's friend. Mountjoy would wait to +reply, until, as he bitterly expressed it, Iris was able to write to +him without the assistance of her master. + +Again he thought of returning to Scotland--and, again, he hesitated. + +On this occasion, he discovered objections to the cottage which had not +occurred to him while Iris was a single woman. The situation was +solitary; his nearest neighbours were fishermen. Here and there, at +some little distance, there were only a few scattered houses inhabited +by retired tradesmen. Further away yet, there was the country-seat of +an absent person of distinction, whose health suffered in the climate +of Scotland. The lonely life in prospect, on the shores of the Solway, +now daunted Mountjoy for the first time. + +He decided on trying what society in London would do to divert his mind +from the burdens and anxieties that weighed on it. Acquaintances whom +he had neglected were pleasantly surprised by visits from their rich +and agreeable young friend. He attended dinner parties; he roused hope +in mothers and daughters by accepting invitations to balls; he +reappeared at his club. Was there any relief to his mind in this? was +there even amusement? No; he was acting a part, and he found it a hard +task to keep up appearances. After a brief and brilliant interval, +society knew him no more. + +Left by himself again, he enjoyed one happy evening in London. It was +the evening on which he relented, in spite of himself, and wrote to +Iris. + +CHAPTER XXIV + +LORD HARRY'S HONEYMOON + +THE next day, Hugh received a visit from the last person in the little +world of his acquaintance whom he expected to see. The lost Mrs. +Vimpany presented herself at the hotel. + +She looked unnaturally older since Mountjoy had last seen her. Her +artificial complexion was gone. The discarded rouge that had once +overlaid her cheeks, through a long succession of years, had left the +texture of the skin coarse, and had turned the colour of it to a dull +yellowish tinge. Her hair, once so skilfully darkened, was now +permitted to tell the truth, and revealed the sober colouring of age, +in gray. The lower face had fallen away in substance; and even the +penetrating brightness of her large dark eyes was a little dimmed. All +that had been left in her of the attractions of past days, owed its +vital preservation to her stage training. Her suave grace of movement, +and the deep elocutionary melody of her voice, still identified Mrs. +Vimpany--disguised as she was in a dress of dull brown, shorn without +mercy of the milliner's hideous improvements to the figure. "Will you +shake hands with me, Mr. Mountjoy?" Those were the first words she said +to him, in a sad subdued manner, on entering the room. + +"Why not?" Hugh asked, giving her his hand. + +"You can have no very favourable remembrance of me," she answered. "But +I hope to produce a better impression--if you can spare me a little of +your time. You may, or may not, have heard of my separation from my +husband. Anyway, it is needless to trouble you on the subject; you know +Mr. Vimpany; you can guess what I have suffered, and why I have left +him. If he comes to you, I hope you will not tell him where Lady Harry +is,"-- + +Hugh interposed: "Pray don't speak of her by that name! Call her +'Iris,' as I do." + +A faint reflection of the old stage-smile trembled on Mrs. Vimpany's +worn and weary face. + +"Ah, Mr. Mountjoy, I know whom she ought to have married! The worst +enemy of women is their ignorance of men--and they only learn to know +better, when it is too late. I try to be hopeful for Iris, in the time +to come, but my fears conquer me." + +She paused, sighed, and pressed her open hand on her bosom; +unconsciously betraying in that action some of the ineradicable +training of the theatre. + +"I am almost afraid to say that I love Iris," she resumed; "but this I +know; if I am not so bad as I once was, I owe it to that dearest and +sweetest of women! But for the days that I passed in her company, I +might never have tried to atone for my past life by works of mercy. +When other people take the way of amendment, I wonder whether they find +it as hard to follow, at first, as I did?" + +"There is no doubt of it, Mrs. Vimpany--if people are sincere. Beware +of the sinners who talk of sudden conversion and perfect happiness. May +I ask how you began your new life?" + +"I began unhappily, Mr. Mountjoy--I joined a nursing Sisterhood. Before +long, a dispute broke out among them. Think of women who call +themselves Christians, quarrelling about churches and church +services--priest's vestments and attitudes, and candles and incense! I +left them, and went to a hospital, and found the doctors better +Christians than the Sisters. I am not talking about my own poor self +(as you will soon see) without a reason. My experience in the hospital +led to other things. I nursed a lady through a tedious illness, and was +trusted to take her to some friends in the south of France. On my +return, I thought of staying for a few days in Paris--it was an +opportunity of seeing how the nurses did their work in the French +hospitals. And, oh, it was far more than that! In Paris, I found Iris +again." + +"By accident?" Hugh asked. + +"I am not sure," Mrs. Vimpany answered, "that there are such things as +meetings by accident. She and her husband were among the crowds of +people on the Boulevards, who sit taking their coffee in view of the +other crowds, passing along the street. I went by, without noticing +them. _She_ saw me, and sent Lord Harry to bring me back. I have been +with them every day, at her invitation, from that time to this; and I +have seen their life." + +She stopped, noticing that Hugh grew restless. "I am in doubt," she +said, "whether you wish to hear more of their life in Paris." + +Mountjoy at once controlled himself. + +"Go on," he said quietly. + +"Even if I tell you that Iris is perfectly happy?" + +"Go on," Hugh repeated. + +"May I confess," she resumed, "that her husband is irresistible--not +only to his wife, but even to an old woman like me? After having known +him for years at his worst, as well as at his best, I am still foolish +enough to feel the charm of his high spirits and his delightful +good-humour. Sober English people, if they saw him now, would almost +think him a fit subject to be placed under restraint. One of his wild +Irish ideas of expressing devotion to his wife is, that they shall +forget they are married, and live the life of lovers. When they dine at +a restaurant, he insists on having a private room. He takes her to +public balls, and engages her to dance with him for the whole evening. +When she stays at home and is a little fatigued, he sends me to the +piano, and whirls her round the room in a waltz. 'Nothing revives a +woman,' he says, 'like dancing with the man she loves.' When she is out +of breath, and I shut up the piano, do you know what he does? He +actually kisses Me--and says he is expressing his wife's feeling for me +when she is not able to do it herself! He sometimes dines out with men, +and comes back all on fire with the good wine, and more amiable than +ever. On these occasions his pockets are full of sweetmeats, stolen for +'his angel' from the dessert. 'Am I a little tipsy?' he asks. 'Oh, +don't be angry; it's all for love of you. I have been in the highest +society, my darling; proposing your health over and over and over +again, and drinking to you deeper than all the rest of the company. You +don't blame me? Ah, but I blame myself. I was wrong to leave you, and +dine with men. What do I want with the society of men, when I have your +society? Drinking your health is a lame excuse. I will refuse all +invitations for the future that don't include my wife.' And--mind!--he +really means it, at the time. Two or three days later, he forgets his +good resolutions, and dines with the men again, and comes home with +more charming excuses, and stolen sweetmeats, and good resolutions. I +am afraid I weary you, Mr. Mountjoy?" + +"You surprise me," Hugh replied. "Why do I hear all this of Lord +Harry?" + +Mrs. Vimpany left her chair. The stage directions of other days had +accustomed her to rise, when the character she played had anything +serious to say. Her own character still felt the animating influence of +dramatic habit: she rose now, and laid her hand impressively on +Mountjoy's shoulder. + +"I have not thoughtlessly tried your patience," she said. "Now that I +am away from the influence of Lord Harry, I can recall my former +experience of him: and I am afraid I can see the end that is coming. He +will drift into bad company; he will listen to bad advice; and he will +do things in the future which he might shrink from doing now. When that +time comes, I fear him! I fear him!" + +"When that time comes," Hugh repeated, "if I have any influence left +over his wife, he shall find her capable of protecting herself. Will +you give me her address in Paris? + +"Willingly--if you will promise not to go to her till she really needs +you?" + +"Who is to decide when she needs me?" + +"I am to decide," Mrs. Vimpany answered; "Iris writes to me +confidentially. If anything happens which she may be unwilling to trust +to a letter, I believe I shall hear of it from her maid." + +"Are you sure the maid is to be relied on?" Mountjoy interposed. + +"She is a silent creature, so far as I know anything of her," Mrs. +Vimpany admitted; "and her manner doesn't invite confidence. But I have +spoken with Fanny Mere; I am satisfied that she is true to her mistress +and grateful to her mistress in her own strange way. If Iris is in any +danger, I shall not be left in ignorance of it. Does this incline you +to consult with me, before you decide on going to Paris? Don't stand on +ceremony; say honestly, Yes or No." + +Honestly, Hugh said Yes. + +He was at once trusted with the address of Iris. At the same time, Mrs. +Vimpany undertook that he should know what news she received from Paris +as soon as she knew it herself. On that understanding they parted, for +the time being. + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE DOCTOR IN DIFFICULTIES + +SLOWLY the weeks passed. Strictly Mrs. Vimpany kept her promise. + +When she heard from Iris the letter was always sent to Hugh, to be +returned after he had read it. Events in the lives of the newly-married +pair, many of which pointed to the end that Mrs. Vimpany saw and +dreaded, were lightly, sometimes jestingly, related by the young wife. +Her blind belief in her husband, sincerely asserted in the earlier part +of the correspondence, began to betray, in her later letters, signs of +self delusion. It was sad indeed to see that bright intelligence +rendered incapable of conceiving suspicions, which might have occurred +to the mind of a child. + +When the latest news from Paris followed, in due course, Mountjoy was +informed of it by a note from Mrs. Vimpany expressed in these terms: + +"My last letter from Iris is really no letter at all. It simply +encloses a circular, with her love, and asks me to send it on to you. +If it is in your power to make inquiries in the right quarter, I am +sure you will not hesitate to take the trouble. There can be little +doubt, as I think, that Lord Harry is engaged in a hazardous +speculation, more deeply than his wife is willing to acknowledge." + +The circular announced the contemplated publication of a weekly +newspaper, printed partly in English, and partly in French, having its +chief office in Paris, and being intended to dispute the advantages of +a European circulation with the well-known Continental journal called +"Galignani's Messenger." A first list of contributors included names of +some notoriety in the literature of England and the literature of +France. Speculators who wished to know, in the first place, on what +security they might reckon, were referred to the managing committee, +represented by persons of importance in the financial worlds of London +and Paris. + +Being in a position to make the inquiries which Mrs. Vimpany had +suggested, Hugh received information which verified the statements +contained in the circular, and vouched for the good faith of those +persons who were concerned in directing the speculation. So far, so +good. + +But, when the question of success was next discussed, the authorities +consulted shook their wise heads. It was impossible to say what losses +might not be suffered, and what sums of money might not be required, +before the circulation of the new journal would justify the hope of +success. This opinion Hugh communicated to Mrs. Vimpany; Iris was +informed of it by that day's post. + +A longer time than usual elapsed before any further news of Lord Harry +and his wife was received by Mountjoy. When he did at last hear again +from Mrs. Vimpany, she forwarded a letter from Iris dated from a new +address, in the suburb of Paris called Passy. + +From motives of economy (Iris wrote) her husband had decided on a +change of residence. They were just established in their new abode, +with the advantages of a saving in rent, a pretty little garden to +cultivate, and purer air to breathe than the air of Paris. There the +letter ended, without the slightest allusion to the forthcoming +newspaper, or to the opinion that had been pronounced on the prospects +of success. + +In forwarding this letter, Mrs. Vimpany wrote on the blank page as +follows: "I am sorry to add that some disquieting news of my husband +has reached me. For the present, I will say no more. It is at least +possible that the report may not be worthy of belief." + +A few days later the report was confirmed, under circumstances which +had certainly not been foreseen. Mr. Vimpany himself arrived at the +hotel, on a visit to Mountjoy. + +Always more or less superior to the amiable weakness of modesty, the +doctor seemed to have risen higher than ever in his own estimation, +since Hugh had last seen him. He strutted; he stared confidently at +persons and things; authority was in his voice when he spoke, and lofty +indulgence distinguished his manner when he listened. + +"How are you?" he cried with a grand gaiety, as he entered the room. +"Fine weather, isn't it, for the time of year? You don't look well. I +wonder whether you notice any change in me? + +"You seem to be in good spirits," Hugh replied, not very cordially. + +"Do I carry my head high?" Mr. Vimpany went on. "When calamity strikes +at a man, don't let him cringe and cry for pity--let him hit back +again! Those are my principles. Look at me. Now do look at me. Here I +am, a cultivated person, a member of an honourable profession, a man of +art and accomplishment--stripped of every blessed thing belonging to me +but the clothes I stand up in. Give me your hand, Mountjoy. It's the +hand, sir, of a bankrupt." + +"You don't seem to mind it much," Mountjoy remarked. + +"Why should I mind it?" asked the doctor. "There isn't a medical man in +England who has less reason to reproach himself than I have. Have I +wasted money in rash speculations? Not a farthing. Have I been fool +enough to bet at horse races? My worst enemy daren't say it of me. What +have I done then? I have toiled after virtue--that's what I have done. +Oh, there's nothing to laugh at! When a doctor tries to be the medical +friend of humanity; when he only asks leave to cure disease, to soothe +pain, to preserve life--isn't that virtue? And what is my reward? I sit +at home, waiting for my suffering fellow-creatures; and the only +fellow-creatures who come to me are too poor to pay. I have gone my +rounds, calling on the rich patients whom I bought when I bought the +practice. Not one of them wanted me. Men, women, and children, were all +inexcusably healthy--devil take them! Is it wonderful if a man becomes +bankrupt, in such a situation as mine? By Jupiter, I go farther than +that! I say, a man owes it to himself (as a protest against undeserved +neglect) to become a bankrupt. If you will allow me, I'll take a +chair." + +He sat down with an air of impudent independence and looked round the +room. A little cabinet, containing liqueurs, stood open on the +sideboard. Mr. Vimpany got up again. "May I take a friendly liberty?" +he said--and helped himself, without waiting for permission. + +Hugh bore with this, mindful of the mistake that he had committed in +consenting to receive the doctor. At the same time, he was sufficiently +irritated to take a friendly liberty on his side. He crossed the room +to the sideboard, and locked up the liqueurs. Mr. Vimpany's brazen face +flushed deeply (not with shame); he opened his lips to say something +worthy of himself, controlled the impulse, and burst into a boisterous +laugh. He had evidently some favour still to ask. + +"Devilish good!" he broke out cheerfully. "Do you remember the +landlady's claret? Ha! you don't want to tempt me this time. Well! +well! to return to my bankruptcy." + +Hugh had heard enough of his visitor's bankruptcy. "I am not one of +your creditors," he said. + +Mr. Vimpany made a smart reply: "Don't you be too sure of that. Wait a +little." + +"Do you mean," Mountjoy asked, "that you have come here to borrow money +of me?" + +"Time---give me time," the doctor pleaded: "this is not a matter to be +dispatched in a hurry; this is a matter of business. You will hardly +believe it," he resumed, "but I have actually been in my present +position, once before." He looked towards the cabinet of liqueurs. "If +I had the key," he said, "I should like to try a drop more of your good +Curacoa. You don't see it?" + +"I am waiting to hear what your business is," Hugh replied. + +Mr. Vimpany's pliable temper submitted with perfect amiability. "Quite +right," he said; "let us return to business. I am a man who possesses +great fertility of resource. On the last occasion when my creditors +pounced on my property, do you think I was discouraged? Nothing of the +sort! My regular medical practice had broken down under me. Very +well--I tried my luck as a quack. In plain English, I invented a patent +medicine. The one thing wanting was money enough to advertise it. False +friends buttoned up their pockets. You see?" + +"Oh, yes; I see." + +"In that case," Mr. Vimpany continued, "you will not be surprised to +hear that I draw on my resources again. You have no doubt noticed that +we live in an age of amateurs. Amateurs write, paint, compose music, +perform on the stage. I, too, am one of the accomplished persons who +have taken possession of the field of Art. Did you observe the +photographic portraits on the walls of my dining-room? They are of my +doing, sir--whether you observed them or not I am one of the handy +medical men, who can use the photograph. Not that I mention it +generally; the public have got a narrow-minded notion that a doctor +ought to be nothing but a doctor. My name won't appear in a new work +that I am contemplating. Of course, you want to know what my new work +is. I'll tell you, in the strictest confidence. Imagine (if you can) a +series of superb photographs of the most eminent doctors in England, +with memoirs of their lives written by themselves; published once a +month, price half-a-crown. If there isn't money in that idea, there is +no money in anything. Exert yourself, my good friend. Tell me what you +think of it?" + +"I don't understand the subject," Mountjoy replied. "May I ask why you +take _me_ into your confidence?" + +"Because I look upon you as my best friend." + +"You are very good. But surely, Mr. Vimpany, you have older friends in +your circle of acquaintance than I am." + +"Not one," the doctor answered promptly, "whom I trust as I trust you. +Let me give you a proof of it." + +"Is the proof in any way connected with money?" Hugh inquired. + +"I call that hard on me," Mr. Vimpany protested. "No unfriendly +interruptions, Mountjoy! I offer a proof of kindly feeling. Do you mean +to hurt me?" + +"Certainly not. Go on." + +"Thank you; a little encouragement goes a long way with me. I have +found a bookseller, who will publish my contemplated work, on +commission. Not a soul has yet seen the estimate of expenses. I propose +to show it to You." + +"Quite needless, Mr. Vimpany." + +"Why quite needless?" + +"Because I decline lending you the money." + +"No, no, Mountjoy! You can't really mean that?" + +"I do mean it." + +"No!" + +"Yes!" + +The doctor's face showed a sudden change of expression---a sinister and +threatening change. "Don't drive me into a corner," he said. "Think of +it again." + +Hugh's capacity for controlling himself gave way at last. + +"Do you presume to threaten me?" he said. "Understand, if you please, +that my mind is made up, and that nothing you can say or do will alter +it." + +With that declaration he rose from his chair, and waited for Mr. +Vimpany's departure. + +The doctor put on his hat. His eyes rested on Hugh, with a look of +diabolical malice: "The time is not far off, Mr. Mountjoy, when you may +be sorry you refused me." He said those words deliberately--and took +his leave. + +Released from the man's presence, Hugh found himself strangely +associating the interests of Iris with the language--otherwise beneath +notice--which Mr. Vimpany had used on leaving the room. + +In desperate straits for want of money, how would the audacious +bankrupt next attempt to fill his empty purse? If he had, by any +chance, renewed his relations with his Irish friend--and such an event +was at least possible--his next experiment in the art of raising a loan +might take him to Paris. Lord Harry had already ventured on a +speculation which called for an immediate outlay of money, and which +was only expected to put a profit into his pocket at some future +period. In the meanwhile, his resources in money had their limits; and +his current expenses would make imperative demands on an ill-filled +purse. If the temptation to fail in his resolution to respect his +wife's fortune was already trying his fortitude, what better excuse +could be offered for yielding than the necessities of an old friend in +a state of pecuniary distress? + +Looking at the position of Iris, and at the complications which +threatened it, from this point of view, Mountjoy left the hotel to +consult with Mrs. Vimpany. It rested with her to decide whether the +circumstances justified his departure for Paris. + +CHAPTER XXVI + +LONDON AND PARIS + +INFORMED of all that Hugh could tell her relating to his interview with +her husband, Mrs. Vimpany understood and appreciated his fears for the +future. She failed, however, to agree with him that he would do well to +take the journey to France, under present circumstances. + +"Wait a little longer in London," she said. "If Iris doesn't write to +me in the next few days there will be a reason for her silence; and in +that case (as I have already told you) I shall hear from Fanny Mere. +You shall see me when I get a letter from Paris." + +On the last morning in the week, Mrs. Vimpany was announced. The letter +that she brought with her had been written by Fanny Mere. With the pen +in her hand, the maid's remarkable character expressed itself as +strongly as ever:-- + +"Madam,--I said I would let you know what goes on here, when I thought +there was need of it. There seems to be need now. Mr. Vimpany came to +us yesterday. He has the spare bedroom. My mistress says nothing, and +writes nothing. For that reason, I send you the present writing.--Your +humble servant, F." + +Mountjoy was perplexed by this letter, plain as it was. + +"It seems strange," he said, "that Iris herself has not written to you. +She has never hitherto concealed her opinion of Mr. Vimpany." + +"She is concealing it now," Mr. Vimpany's wife replied gravely. + +"Do you know why?" + +"I am afraid I do. Iris will not hesitate at any sacrifice of herself +to please Lord Harry. She will give him her money when he wants it. If +he tells her to alter her opinion of my husband, she will obey him. He +can shake her confidence in me, whenever he pleases; and he has very +likely done it already." + +"Surely it is time for me to go to her now?" Hugh said. + +"Full time," Mrs. Vimpany admitted--"if you can feel sure of yourself. +In the interests of Iris, can you undertake to be cool and careful?" + +"In the interests of Iris, I can undertake anything." + +"One word more," Mrs. Vimpany continued, "before you take your +departure. No matter whether appearances are for him, or against him, +be always on your guard with my husband. Let me hear from you while you +are away; and don't forget that there is an obstacle between you and +Iris, which will put even your patience and devotion to a hard trial." + +"You mean her husband?" + +"I do." + +There was no more to be said, Hugh set forth on his journey to Paris. + + * * * * * * * + +On the morning after his arrival in the French capital, Mountjoy had +two alternatives to consider. He might either write to Iris, and ask +when it would be convenient to her to receive him--or he might present +himself unexpectedly in the cottage at Passy. Reflection convinced him +that his best chance of placing an obstacle in the way of deception +would be to adopt the second alternative, and to take Lord Harry and +the doctor by surprise. + +He went to Passy. The lively French taste had brightened the cottage +with colour: the fair white window curtains were tied with +rose-coloured ribbons, the blinds were gaily painted, the chimneys were +ornamental, the small garden was a paradise of flowers. When Mountjoy +rang the bell, the gate was opened by Fanny Mere. She looked at him in +grave astonishment. + +"Do they expect you?" she asked. + +"Never mind that," Hugh answered. "Are they at home?" + +"They have just finished breakfast, sir." + +"Do you remember my name?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then show me in." + +Fanny opened the door of a room on the ground floor, and announced: +"Mr. Mountjoy." + +The two men were smoking; Iris was watering some flowers in the window. +Her colour instantly faded when Hugh entered the room. In doubt and +alarm, her eyes questioned Lord Harry. He was in his sweetest state of +good-humour. Urged by the genial impulse of the moment, he set the +example of a cordial reception. "This is an agreeable surprise, +indeed," he said, shaking hands with Mountjoy in his easy amiable way. +"It's kind of you to come and see us." Relieved of anxiety (evidently +when she had not expected it), Iris eagerly followed her husband's +example: her face recovered its colour, and brightened with its +prettiest smile. Mr. Vimpany stood in a corner; his cigar went out: his +own wife would hardly have known him again--he actually presented an +appearance of embarrassment! Lord Harry burst out laughing: "Look at +him Iris! The doctor is shy for the first time in his life." The Irish +good-humour was irresistible. The young wife merrily echoed her +husband's laugh. Mr. Vimpany, observing the friendly reception offered +to Hugh, felt the necessity of adapting himself to circumstances. He +came out of his corner with an apology: "Sorry I misbehaved myself, Mr. +Mountjoy, when I called on you in London. Shake hands. No offence--eh?" +Iris, in feverish high spirits, mimicked the doctor's coarse tones when +he repeated his favourite form of excuse. Lord Harry clapped his hands, +delighted with his wife's clever raillery: "Ha! Mr. Mountjoy, you don't +find that her married life has affected her spirits! May I hope that +you have come here to breakfast? The table is ready as you see"---- +"And I have been taking lessons, Hugh, in French ways of cooking eggs," +Iris added; "pray let me show you what I can do." The doctor chimed in +facetiously: "I'm Lady Harry's medical referee; you'll find her French +delicacies half digested for you, sir, before you can open your mouth: +signed, Clarence Vimpany, member of the College of Surgeons." +Remembering Mrs. Vimpany's caution, Hugh concealed his distrust of this +outbreak of hospitable gaiety, and made his excuses. Lord Harry +followed, with more excuses, on his part. He deplored it--but he was +obliged to go out. Had Mr. Mountjoy met with the new paper which was to +beat "Galiguani" out of the field? The "Continental Herald "--there was +the title. "Forty thousand copies of the first number have just flown +all over Europe; we have our agencies in every town of importance, at +every point of the compass; and, one of the great proprietors, my dear +sir, is the humble individual who now addresses you." His bright eyes +sparkled with boyish pleasure, as he made that announcement of his own +importance. If Mr. Mountjoy would kindly excuse him, he had an +appointment at the office that morning. "Get your hat, Vimpany. The +fact is our friend here carries a case of consumption in his pocket; +consumption of the purse, you understand. I am going to enrol him among +the contributors to the newspaper. A series of articles (between +ourselves) exposing the humbug of physicians, and asserting with fine +satirical emphasis the overstocked state of the medical profession. Ah, +well! you'll be glad (won't you?) to talk over old times with Iris. My +angel, show our good friend the 'Continental Herald,' and mind you keep +him here till we get back. Doctor, look alive! Mr. Mountjoy, au +revoir." They shook hands again heartily. As Mrs. Vimpany had +confessed, there was no resisting the Irish lord. + +But Hugh's strange experience of that morning was not at an end, yet. + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE BRIDE AT HOME + +LEFT alone with the woman whose charm still held him to her, cruelly as +she had tried his devotion by her marriage, Mountjoy found the fluent +amiability of the husband imitated by the wife. She, too, when the door +had hardly closed on Lord Harry, was bent on persuading Hugh that her +marriage had been the happiest event of her life. + +"Will you think the worse of me," she began, "if I own that I had +little expectation of seeing you again?" + +"Certainly not, Iris." + +"Consider my situation," she went on. "When I remember how you tried +(oh, conscientiously tried!) to prevent my marriage--how you predicted +the miserable results that would follow, if Harry's life and my life +became one--could I venture to hope that you would come here, and judge +for yourself? Dear and good friend, I have nothing to fear from the +result; your presence was never more welcome to me than it is now!" + +Whether it was attributable to prejudice on Mountjoy's part, or to keen +and just observation, he detected something artificial in the ring of +her enthusiasm; there was not the steady light of truth in her eyes, +which he remembered in the past and better days of their companionship. +He was a little--just a little--irritated. The temptation to remind her +that his distrust of Lord Harry had once been her distrust too, proved +to be more than his frailty could resist. + +"Your memory is generally exact," he said; "but it hardly serves you +now as well as usual." + +"What have I forgotten?" + +"You have forgotten the time, my dear, when your opinion was almost as +strongly against a marriage with Lord Harry as mine." + +Her answer was ready on the instant: "Ah, I didn't know him then as +well as I know him now!" + +Some men, in Mountjoy's position, might have been provoked into hinting +that there were sides to her husband's character which she had probably +not discovered yet. But Hugh's gentle temper--ruffled for a moment +only--had recovered its serenity. Her friend was her true friend still; +he said no more on the subject of her marriage. + +"Old habits are not easily set aside," he reminded her. "I have been so +long accustomed to advise you and help you, that I find myself hoping +there may be some need for my services still. Is there no way in which +I might relieve you of the hateful presence of Mr. Vimpany?" + +"My dear Hugh, I wish you had not mentioned Mr. Vimpany." + +Mountjoy concluded that the subject was disagreeable to her. "After the +opinion of him which you expressed in your letter to me," he said, "I +ought not to have spoken of the doctor. Pray forgive me." + +Iris looked distressed. "Oh, you are quite mistaken! The poor doctor +has been sadly misjudged; and I"--she shook her head, and sighed +penitently--"and, I," she resumed, "am one among other people who have +ignorantly wronged him. Pray consult my husband. Hear what he can tell +you--and you will pity Mr. Vimpany. The newspaper makes such large +demands on our means that we can do little to help him. With your +recommendation he might find some employment." + +"He has already asked me to assist him, Iris; and I have refused. I +can't agree with your change of opinion about Mr. Vimpany." + +"Why not? Is it because he has separated from his wife?" + +"That is one reason, among many others," Mountjoy replied. + +"Indeed, indeed you are wrong! Lord Harry has known Mrs. Vimpany for +years, and he says--I am truly sorry to hear it--that the separation is +her fault." + +Hugh changed the subject again. The purpose which had mainly induced +him to leave England had not been mentioned yet. + +Alluding to the newspaper, and to the heavy pecuniary demands made by +the preliminary expenses of the new journal, he reminded Iris that +their long and intimate friendship permitted him to feel some interest +in her affairs. "I won't venture to express an opinion," he added; "let +me only ask if Lord Harry's investments in this speculation have +compelled him to make some use of your little fortune?" + +"My husband refused to touch my fortune," Iris answered. "But"--She +paused, there. "Do you know how honourably, how nobly, he has behaved?" +she abruptly resumed. "He has insured his life: he has burdened himself +with the payment of a large sum of money every year. And all for me, if +I am so unfortunate (which God forbid!) as to survive him. When a large +share in the newspaper was for sale, do you think I could be ungrateful +enough to let him lose the chance of making our fortune, when the +profits begin to come in? I insisted on advancing the money--we almost +quarrelled about it--but, you know how sweet he is. I said: 'Don't +distress me'; and the dearest of men let me have my own way." + +Mountjoy listened in silence. To have expressed what he felt would have +been only to mortify and offend Iris. Old habit (as he had said) had +made the idea of devoting himself to her interests the uppermost idea +in his mind. He asked if the money had all been spent. Hearing that +some of it was still left, he resolved on making the attempt to secure +the remains of her fortune to herself. + +"Tell me," he said, "have you ever heard of such a thing as buying an +annuity?" + +She knew nothing about it. He carefully explained the method by which a +moderate sum of money might be made to purchase a sufficient income for +life. She offered no objection, when he proposed to write to his lawyer +in London for the necessary particulars. But when he asked her to tell +him what the sum was of which she might be still able to dispose, Iris +hesitated, and made no reply. + +This time, Hugh arrived at the right conclusion. + +It was only too plain to him that what remained of her money +represented an amount so trifling that she was ashamed to mention it. +Of the need for helping her, there could be no doubt now; and, as for +the means, no difficulties presented themselves to Mountjoy--always +excepting the one obstacle likely to be offered by the woman herself. +Experience warned him to approach her delicately, by the indirect way. + +"You know me well enough," he said, "to feel sure that I am incapable +of saying anything which can embarrass you, or cause a moment's +misunderstanding between two old friends. Won't you look at me, Iris, +when I am speaking to you?" + +She still looked away from him. "I am afraid of what you are going to +say to me," she answered coldly. + +"Then let me say it at once. In one of your letters, written long +since--I don't suppose you remember it--you told me that I was an +obstinate man when I once took a thing into my head. You were quite +right. My dear, I have taken it into my head that you will be as ready +as ever to accept my advice, and will leave me (as your man of +business) to buy the annuity"-- + +She stopped him. + +"No," she cried, "I won't hear a word more! Do you think I am +insensible to years of kindness that I have never deserved? Do you +think I forget how nobly you have forgiven me for those cruel refusals +which have saddened your life? Is it possible that you expect me to +borrow money of You?" She started wildly to her feet. "I declare, as +God hears me, I would rather die than take that base, that shameful +advantage of all your goodness to me. The woman never lived who owed so +much to a man, as I owe to you--but not money! Oh, my dear, not money! +not money!" + +He was too deeply touched to be able to speak to her--and she saw it. +"What a wretch I am," she said to herself; "I have made his heart +ache!" + +He heard those words. Still feeling for her--never, never for +himself!--he tried to soothe her. In the passion of her self-reproach, +she refused to hear him. Pacing the room from end to end, she fanned +the fiery emotion that was consuming her. Now, she reviled herself in +language that broke through the restraints by which good breeding sets +its seal on a woman's social rank. And now, again, she lost herself +more miserably still, and yielded with hysteric recklessness to a +bitter outburst of gaiety. + +"If you wish to be married happily," she cried, "never be as fond of +any other woman as you have been of me. We are none of us worth it. +Laugh at us, Hugh--do anything but believe in us. We all lie, my +friend. And I have been lying--shamelessly! shamelessly!" + +He tried to check her. "Don't talk in that way, Iris," he said sternly. + +She laughed at him. "Talk?" she repeated. "It isn't that; it's a +confession." + +"I don't desire to hear your confession." + +"You must hear it--you have drawn it out of me. Come! we'll enjoy my +humiliation together. Contradict every word I said to you about that +brute and blackguard, the doctor--and you will have the truth. What +horrid inconsistency, isn't it? I can't help myself; I am a wretched, +unreasonable creature; I don't know my own mind for two days together, +and all through my husband--I am so fond of him; Harry is delightfully +innocent; he's like a nice boy; he never seemed to think of Mr. +Vimpany, till it was settled between them that the doctor was to come +and stay here----and then he persuaded me--oh, I don't know how!--to +see his friend in quite a new light. I believed him--and I believe him +still--I mean I _would_ believe him, but for you. Will you do me a +favour? I wish you wouldn't look at me with those eyes that won't lie; +I wish you wouldn't speak to me with that voice which finds things out. +Oh, good Heavens, do you suppose I would let you think that my husband +is a bad man, and my marriage an unhappy one? Never! If it turns my +blood to sit and eat at the same table with Mr. Vimpany, I'm not cruel +enough to blame the dear doctor. It's my wickedness that's to blame. We +shall quarrel, if you tell me that Harry is capable of letting a rascal +be his friend. I'm happy; I'm happy; I'm happy!--do you understand +that? Oh, Hugh, I wish you had never come to see me!" + +She burst into a passionate fit of weeping, broken down at last under +the terrible strain laid on her. "Let me hide myself!" was all that +Iris could say to her old friend--before she ran out of the room, and +left him. + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE MAID AND THE KEYHOLE + +DEEPLY as she had grieved him, keenly as he felt that his worst fears +for her threatened already to be realised, it was characteristic of +Mountjoy that he still refused to despair of Iris--even with the +husband's influence against him. + +The moral deterioration of her, revealed in the false words that she +had spoken, and in the deceptions that she had attempted, would have +justified the saddest misgivings, but for the voluntary confession +which had followed, and the signs which it had shown of the better +nature still struggling to assert itself. How could Hugh hope to +encourage that effort of resistance to the evil influences that were +threatening her--first and foremost, among them, being the arrival of +Vimpany at the cottage? His presence kept her in a state of perpetual +contention, between her own wise instincts which distrusted him, and +her husband's authoritative assertions which recommended him to her +confidence. No greater service could be rendered to Iris than the +removal of this man--but how could it be accomplished, without giving +offence to her husband? Mountjoy's mind was still in search of a means +of overcoming the obstacle thus presented, when he heard the door open. +Had Iris recovered herself? or had Lord Harry and his friend returned? + +The person who now entered the room was the strange and silent maid, +Fanny Mere. + +"Can I speak to you, sir?" + +"Certainly. What is it?" + +"Please give me your address." + +"For your mistress?" + +"Yes." + +"Does she wish to write to me?" + +"Yes." + +Hugh gave the strange creature the address of his hotel in Paris. For a +moment, her eyes rested on him with an expression of steady scrutiny. +She opened the door to go out---stopped--considered--came back again. + +"I want to speak for myself," she said. "Do you care to hear what a +servant has to say?" + +Mountjoy replied that he was ready to hear what she had to say. She at +once stepped up to him, and addressed him in these words: + +"I think you are fond of my mistress?" + +An ordinary man might have resented the familiar manner in which she +had expressed herself. Mountjoy waited for what was still to come. +Fanny Mere abruptly went on, with a nearer approach to agitation in her +manner than she had shown yet: + +"My mistress took me into her service; she trusted me when other ladies +would have shown me the door. When she sent for me to see her, my +character was lost; I had nobody to feel for me, nobody to help me. She +is the one friend who held out a hand to me. I hate the men; I don't +care for the women. Except one. Being a servant I mustn't say I love +that one. If I was a lady, I don't know that I should say it. Love is +cant; love is rubbish. Tell me one thing. Is the doctor a friend of +yours?" + +"The doctor is nothing of the kind." + +"Perhaps he is your enemy?" + +"I can hardly say that." + +She looked at Hugh discontentedly. "I want to get at it," she said. +"Why can't we understand each other? Will you laugh at me, if I say the +first thing that comes into my head? Are you a good swimmer?" + +An extraordinary question, even from Fanny Mere. It was put +seriously--and seriously Mountjoy answered it. He said that he was +considered to be a good swimmer. + +"Perhaps," she continued, "you have saved people's lives." + +"I have twice been so fortunate as to save lives," he replied. + +"If you saw the doctor drowning, would you save him? _I_ wouldn't!" + +"Do you hate him as bitterly as that?" Hugh asked. + +She passed the question over without notice. "I wish you would help me +to get at it," she persisted. "Suppose you could rid my mistress of +that man by giving him a kick, would you up with your foot and do it?" + +"Yes--with pleasure." + +"Thank you, sir. Now I've got it. Mr. Mountjoy, the doctor is the curse +of my mistress's life. I can't bear to see it. If we are not relieved +of him somehow, I shall do something wrong. When I wait at table, and +see him using his knife, I want to snatch it out of his hand, and stick +it into him. I had a hope that my lord might turn him out of the house +when they quarrelled. My lord is too wicked himself to do it. For the +love of God, sir, help my mistress--or show me the way how!" + +Mountjoy began to be interested. "How do you know," he asked, "that +Lord Harry and the doctor have quarrelled?" + +Without the slightest appearance of embarrassment, Fanny Mere informed +him that she had listened at the door, while her master and his friend +were talking of their secrets. She had also taken an opportunity of +looking through the keyhole. "I suppose, sir," said this curious woman, +still speaking quite respectfully, "you have never tried that way +yourself?" + +"Certainly not!" + +"Wouldn't you do it to serve my mistress?" + +"No." + +"And yet, you're fond of her! You are a merciful one--the only merciful +one, so far as I know--among men. Perhaps, if you were frightened about +her, you might be more ready with your help. I wonder whether I can +frighten you? Will you let me try?" + +The woman's faithful attachment to Iris pleaded for her with Hugh. +"Try, if you like," he said kindly. + +Speaking as seriously as ever, Fanny proceeded to describe her +experience at the keyhole. What she had seen was not worth relating. +What she had heard proved to be more important. + +The talk between my lord and the doctor had been about raising money. +They had different notions of how to do that. My lord's plan was to +borrow what was wanted, on his life-insurance. The doctor told him he +couldn't do that, till his insurance had been going on for three or +four years at least. "I have something better and bolder to propose," +says Mr. Vimpany. It must have been also something wicked--for he +whispered it in the master's ear. My lord didn't take to it kindly. +"How do you think I could face my wife," he says, "if she discovered +me?" The doctor says: "Don't be afraid of your wife; Lady Harry will +get used to many things which she little thought of before she married +you." Says my lord to that: "I have done my best, Vimpany, to improve +my wife's opinion of you. If you say much more, I shall come round to +her way of thinking. Drop it!"--"All right," says the doctor, "I'll +drop it now, and wait to pick it up again till you come to your last +bank note." There the talk ended for that day---and Fanny would be glad +to know what Mr. Mountjoy thought of it. + +"I think you have done me a service," Hugh replied. + +"Tell me how, sir." + +"I can only tell you this, Fanny. You have shown me how to relieve your +mistress of the doctor." + +For the first time, the maid's impenetrable composure completely failed +her. The smouldering fire in Fanny Mere flamed up. She impulsively +kissed Mountjoy's hand. The moment her lips touched it she shrank back: +the natural pallor of her face became whiter than ever. Startled by the +sudden change, Hugh asked if she was ill. + +She shook her head. + +"It isn't that. Yours is the first man's hand I have kissed, since--" +She checked herself. "I beg you won't ask me about it. I only meant to +thank you, sir; I do thank you with all my heart--I mustn't stay here +any longer." + +As she spoke the sound of a key was heard, opening the lock of the +cottage-door. Lord Harry had returned. + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE CONQUEST OF MR. VIMPANY + +THE Irish lord came in--with his medical friend sulkily in attendance +on him. He looked at Fanny, and asked where her mistress was. + +"My lady is in her room, sir." + +Hearing this, he turned sharply to Mountjoy. On the point of speaking, +he seemed to think better of it, and went to his wife's room. The maid +followed. "Get rid of him now," she whispered to Hugh, glancing at the +doctor. Mr. Vimpany was in no very approachable humour--standing at the +window, with his hands in his empty pockets, gloomily looking out. But +Hugh was not disposed to neglect the opportunity; he ventured to say: +"You don't seem to be in such good spirits as usual." + +The doctor gruffly expressed his opinion that Mr. Mountjoy would not be +particularly cheerful, in his place. My lord had taken him to the +office, on the distinct understanding that he was to earn a little +pocket-money by becoming one of the contributors to the newspaper. And +how had it ended? The editor had declared that his list of writers was +full, and begged leave to suggest that Mr. Vimpany should wait for the +next vacancy. A most impertinent proposal! Had Lord Harry--a +proprietor, remember--exerted his authority? Not he! His lordship had +dropped the doctor "like a hot potato," and had meanly submitted to his +own servant. What did Mr. Mountjoy think of such conduct as that? + +Hugh answered the question, with his own end in view. Paving the way +for Mr. Vimpany's departure from the cottage at Passy, he made a polite +offer of his services. + +"Can't I help you out of your difficulty?" he said. + +"You!" cried the doctor. "Have you forgotten how you received me, sir, +when I asked for a loan at your hotel in London?" + +Hugh admitted that he might have spoken hastily. "You took me by +surprise," he said, "and (perhaps I was mistaken, on my side) I thought +you were, to say the least of it, not particularly civil. You did +certainly use threatening language when you left me. No man likes to be +treated in that way." + +Mr. Vimpany's big bold eyes stared at Mountjoy in a state of +bewilderment. "Are you trying to make a fool of me?" he asked. + +"I am incapable, Mr. Vimpany, of an act of rudeness towards anybody." + +"If you come to that," the doctor stoutly declared, "I am incapable +too. It's plain to me that we have been misunderstanding each other. +Wait a bit; I want to go back for a moment to that threatening language +which you complained of just now. I was sorry for what I had said as +soon as your door was shut on me. On my way downstairs I did think of +turning back and making a friendly apology before I gave you up. +Suppose I had done that?" Mr. Vimpany asked, wondering internally +whether Mountjoy was foolish enough to believe him. + +Hugh advanced a little nearer to the design that he had in view. + +"You might have found me more kindly disposed towards you," he said, +"than you had anticipated." + +This encouraging reply cost him an effort. He had stooped to the +unworthy practice of perverting what he had said and done on a former +occasion, to serve a present interest. Remind himself as he might of +the end which, in the interests of Iris, did really appear to justify +the means, he still sank to a place in his own estimation which he was +honestly ashamed to occupy. + +Under other circumstances his hesitation, slight as it was, might have +excited suspicion. As things were, Mr. Vimpany could only discover +golden possibilities that dazzled his eyes. "I wonder whether you're in +the humour," he said, "to be kindly disposed towards me now?" + +It was needless to be careful of the feelings of such man as this. +"Suppose you had the money you want in your pocket," Hugh suggested, +"what would you do with it?" + +"Go back to London, to be sure, and publish the first number of that +work of mine I told you of." + +"And leave your friend, Lord Harry?" + +"What good is my friend to me? He's nearly as poor as I am--he sent for +me to advise him--I put him up to a way of filling both our pockets, +and he wouldn't hear of it. What sort of a friend do you call that?" + +Pay him and get rid of him. There was the course of proceeding +suggested by the private counsellor in Mountjoy's bosom. + +"Have you got the publisher's estimate of expenses?" he asked. + +The doctor instantly produced the document. + +To a rich man the sum required was, after all, trifling enough. +Mountjoy sat down at the writing-table. As he took up a pen, Mr. +Vimpany's protuberant eyes looked as if they would fly out of his head. + +"If I lend you the money--" Hugh began. + +"Yes? Yes?" cried the doctor. + +"I do so on condition that nobody is to know of the loan but +ourselves." + +"Oh, sir, on my sacred word of honour--" An order on Mountjoy's bankers +in Paris for the necessary amount, with something added for travelling +expenses, checked Mr. Vimpany in full career of protestation. He tried +to begin again: "My friend! my benefactor--" + +He was stopped once more. His friend and benefactor pointed to the +clock. + +"If you want the money to-day, you have just time to get to Paris +before the bank closes." + +Mr. Vimpany did want the money--always wanted the money; his gratitude +burst out for the third time: "God bless you!" + +The object of that highly original form of benediction pointed through +the window in the direction of the railway station. Mr. Vimpany +struggled no longer to express his feelings--he had made his last +sacrifice to appearances--he caught the train. + +The door of the room had been left open. A voice outside said: "Has he +gone?" + +"Come in, Fanny," said Mountjoy. "He will return to London either +to-night or to-morrow morning." + +The strange maid put her head in at the door. "I'll be at the +terminus," she said, "and make sure of him." + +Her head suddenly disappeared, before it was possible to speak to her +again. "Was there some other person outside? The other person entered +the room; it was Lord Harry. He spoke without his customary smile. + +"I want a word with you, Mr. Mountjoy." + +"About what, my lord?" + +That direct question seemed to confuse the Irishman. He hesitated. + +"About you," he said, and stopped to consider. "And another person," he +added mysteriously. + +Hugh was constitutionally a hater of mysteries. He felt the need of a +more definite reply, and asked for it plainly: + +"Does your lordship associate that other person with me?" + +"Yes, I do." + +"Who is the person?" + +"My wife." + +CHAPTER XXX + +SAXON AND CELT + +WHEN amicable relations between two men happen to be in jeopardy, there +is least danger of an ensuing quarrel if the friendly intercourse has +been of artificial growth, on either side. In this case, the promptings +of self-interest, and the laws of politeness, have been animating +influences throughout; acting under conditions which assist the effort +of self-control. And for this reason: the man who has never really +taken a high place in our regard is unprovided with those sharpest +weapons of provocation, which make unendurable demands on human +fortitude. In a true attachment, on the other hand, there is an +innocent familiarity implied, which is forgetful of ceremony, and blind +to consequences. The affectionate freedom which can speak kindly +without effort is sensitive to offence, and can speak harshly without +restraint. When the friend who wounds us has once been associated with +the sacred memories of the heart, he strikes at a tender place, and no +considerations of propriety are powerful enough to stifle our cry of +rage and pain. The enemies who have once loved each other are the +bitterest enemies of all. + +Thus, the curt exchange of question and answer, which had taken place +in the cottage at Passy, between two gentlemen artificially friendly to +one another, led to no regrettable result. Lord Harry had been too +readily angry: he remembered what was due to Mr. Mountjoy. Mr. Mountjoy +had been too thoughtlessly abrupt: he remembered what was due to Lord +Harry. The courteous Irishman bowed, and pointed to a chair. The +well-bred Englishman returned the polite salute, and sat down. My lord +broke the silence that followed. + +"May I hope that you will excuse me," he began, "if I walk about the +room? Movement seems to help me when I am puzzled how to put things +nicely. Sometimes I go round and round the subject, before I get at it. +I'm afraid I'm going round and round, now. Have you arranged to make a +long stay in Paris?" + +Circumstances, Mountjoy answered, would probably decide him. + +"You have no doubt been many times in Paris before this," Lord Harry +continued. "Do you find it at all dull, now?" + +Wondering what he could possibly mean, Hugh said he never found Paris +dull--and waited for further enlightenment. The Irish lord persisted: + +"People mostly think Paris isn't as gay as it used to be. Not such good +plays and such good actors as they had at one time. The restaurants +inferior, and society very much mixed. People don't stay there as long +as they used. I'm told that Americans are getting disappointed, and are +trying London for a change." + +Could he have any serious motive for this irrelevant way of talking? Or +was he, to judge by his own account of himself, going round and round +the subject of his wife and his guest, before he could get at it? + +Suspecting him of jealousy from the first, Hugh failed--naturally +perhaps in his position--to understand the regard for Iris, and the +fear of offending her, by which her jealous husband was restrained. +Lord Harry was attempting (awkwardly indeed!) to break off the +relations between his wife and her friend, by means which might keep +the true state of his feelings concealed from both of them. Ignorant of +this claim on his forbearance, it was Mountjoy's impression that he was +being trifled with. Once more, he waited for enlightenment, and waited +in silence. + +"You don't find my conversation interesting?" Lord Harry remarked, +still with perfect good-humour. + +"I fail to see the connection," Mountjoy acknowledged, "between what +you have said so far, and the subject on which you expressed your +intention of speaking to me. Pray forgive me if I appear to hurry +you--or if you have any reasons for hesitation." + +Far from being offended, this incomprehensible man really appeared to +be pleased. "You read me like a book!" he exclaimed. "It's hesitation +that's the matter with me. I'm a variable man. If there's something +disagreeable to say, there are times when I dash at it, and times when +I hang back. Can I offer you any refreshment?" he asked, getting away +from the subject again, without so much as an attempt at concealment. + +Hugh thanked him, and declined. + +"Not even a glass of wine? Such white Burgundy, my dear sir, as you +seldom taste." + +Hugh's British obstinacy was roused; he repeated his reply. Lord Harry +looked at him gravely, and made a nearer approach to an open confession +of feeling than he had ventured on yet. + +"With regard now to my wife. When I went away this morning with +Vimpany--he's not such good company as he used to be; soured by +misfortune, poor devil; I wish he would go back to London. As I was +saying--I mean as I was about to say--I left you and Lady Harry +together this morning; two old friends, glad (as I supposed) to have a +gossip about old times. When I come back, I find you left here alone, +and I am told that Lady Harry is in her room. What do I see when I get +there? I see the finest pair of eyes in the world; and the tale they +tell me is, We have been crying. When I ask what may have happened to +account for this--'Nothing, dear,' is all the answer I get. What's the +impression naturally produced on my mind? There has been a quarrel +perhaps between you and my wife." + +"I fail entirely, Lord Harry, to see it in that light." + +"Ah, likely enough! Mine's the Irish point of view. As an Englishman +you fail to understand it. Let that be. One thing; Mr. Mountjoy, I'll +take the freedom of saying at once. I'll thank you, next time, to +quarrel with Me." + +"You force me to tell you, my lord, that you are under a complete +delusion, if you suppose that there has been any quarrel, or approach +to a quarrel, between Lady Harry and myself." + +"You tell me that, on your word of honour as a gentleman?" + +"Most assuredly!" + +"Sir! I deeply regret to hear it." + +"Which does your lordship deeply regret? That I have spoken to you on +my word of honour, or that I have not quarrelled with Lady Harry?" + +"Both, sir! By the piper that played before Moses, both!" + +Hugh got up, and took his hat: "We may have a better chance of +understanding each other," he suggested, "if you will be so good as to +write to me." + +"Put your hat down again, Mr. Mountjoy, and pray have a moment's +patience. I've tried to like you, sir--and I'm bound in candour to own +that I've failed to find a bond of union between us. Maybe, this frank +confession annoys you." + +"Far from it! You are going straight to your subject at last, if I may +venture to say so." + +The Irish lord's good-humour had completely disappeared by this time. +His handsome face hardened, and his voice rose. The outbreak of jealous +feeling, which motives honourable to himself had hitherto controlled, +now seized on its freedom of expression. His language betrayed (as on +some former occasions) that association with unworthy companions, which +had been one of the evil results of his adventurous life. + +"Maybe I'll go straighter than you bargain for," he replied; "I'm in +two humours about you. My common-sense tells me that you're my wife's +friend. And the best of friends do sometimes quarrel, don't they? Well, +sir, you deny it, on your own account. I find myself forced back on my +other humour--and it's a black humour, I can tell you. You may be my +wife's friend, my fine fellow, but you're something more than that. You +have always been in love with her--and you're in love with her now. +Thank you for your visit, but don't repeat it. Say! do we understand +each other at last?" + +"I have too sincere a respect for Lady Harry to answer you," Mountjoy +said. "At the same time, let me acknowledge my obligations to your +lordship. You have reminded me that I did a foolish thing when I called +here without an invitation. I agree with you that the sooner my mistake +is set right the better." + +He replied in those words, and left the cottage. + +On the way back to his hotel, Hugh thought of what Mrs. Vimpany had +said to him when they had last seen each other: "Don't forget that +there is an obstacle between you and Iris which will put even your +patience and your devotion to a hard trial." The obstacle of the +husband had set itself up, and had stopped him already. + +His own act (a necessary act after the language that had been addressed +to him) had closed the doors of the cottage, and had put an end to +future meetings between Iris and himself. If they attempted to +communicate by letter, Lord Harry would have opportunities of +discovering their correspondence, of which his jealousy would certainly +avail itself. Through the wakeful night, Hugh's helpless situation was +perpetually in his thoughts. There seemed to be no present alternative +before him but resignation, and a return to England. + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS + +ON the next day Mountjoy heard news of Iris, which was not of a nature +to relieve his anxieties. He received a visit from Fanny Mere. + +The leave-taking of Mr. Vimpany, on the previous evening, was the first +event which the maid had to relate. She had been present when the +doctor said good-bye to the master and mistress. Business in London was +the reason he gave for going away. The master had taken the excuse as +if he really believed in it, and seemed to be glad to get rid of his +friend. The mistress expressed her opinion that Mr. Vimpany's return to +London must have been brought about by an act of liberality on the part +of the most generous of living men. _"Your_ friend has, as I believe, +got some money from _my_ friend," she said to her husband. My lord had +looked at her very strangely when she spoke of Mr. Mountjoy in that +way, and had walked out of the room. As soon as his back was turned, +Fanny had obtained leave of absence. She had carried out her intention +of watching the terminus, and had seen Mr. Vimpany take his place among +the passengers to London by the mail train. + +Returning to the cottage, it was Fanny's duty to ascertain if her +services were required in her mistress's room. + +On reaching the door, she had heard the voices of my lord and my lady, +and (as Mr. Mountjoy would perhaps be pleased to know) had been too +honourable to listen outside, on this occasion. She had at once gone +away, and had waited until she should be sent for. After a long +interval, the bell that summoned her had been rung. She had found the +mistress in a state of agitation, partly angry, and partly distressed; +and had ventured to ask if anything unpleasant had happened. No reply +was made to that inquiry. Fanny had silently performed the customary +duties of the night-toilet, in getting my lady ready for bed; they had +said good-night to each other and had said no more. + +In the morning (that present morning), being again in attendance as +usual, the maid had found Lady Harry in a more indulgent frame of mind; +still troubled by anxieties, but willing to speak of them now. + +She had begun by talking of Mr. Mountjoy: + +"I think you like him, Fanny: everybody likes him. You will be sorry to +hear that we have no prospect of seeing him again at the cottage." +There she had stopped; something that she had not said, yet, seemed to +be in her mind, and to trouble her. She was near to crying, poor soul, +but struggled against it. "I have no sister," she said, "and no friend +who might be like a sister to me. It isn't perhaps quite right to speak +of my sorrow to my maid. Still, there is something hard to bear in +having no kind heart near one--I mean, no other woman to speak to who +knows what women feel. It is so lonely here--oh, so lonely! I wonder +whether you understand me and pity me?" Never forgetting all that she +owed to her mistress--if she might say so without seeming to praise +herself--Fanny was truly sorry. It would have been a relief to her, if +she could have freely expressed her opinion that my lord must be to +blame, when my lady was in trouble. Being a man, he was by nature cruel +to women; the wisest thing his poor wife could do would be to expect +nothing from him. The maid was sorely tempted to offer a little good +advice to this effect; but she was afraid of her own remembrances, if +she encouraged them by speaking out boldly. It would be better to wait +for what the mistress might say next. + +Lord Harry's conduct was the first subject that presented itself when +the conversation was resumed. + +My lady mentioned that she had noticed how he looked, and how he left +the room, when she had spoken in praise of Mr. Mountjoy. She had +pressed him to explain himself---and she had made a discovery which +proved to be the bitterest disappointment of her life. Her husband +suspected her! Her husband was jealous of her! It was too cruel; it was +an insult beyond endurance, an insult to Mr. Mountjoy as well as to +herself. If that best and dearest of good friends was to be forbidden +the house, if he was to go away and never to see her or speak to her +again, of one thing she was determined--he should not leave her without +a kind word of farewell; he should hear how truly she valued him; yes, +and how she admired and felt for him! Would Fanny not do the same +thing, in her place? And Fanny had remembered the time when she might +have done it for such a man as Mr. Mountjoy. "Mind you stay indoors +this evening, sir," the maid continued, looking and speaking so +excitedly that Hugh hardly knew her again. "My mistress is coming to +see you, and I shall come with her." + +Such an act of imprudence was incredible. "You must be out of your +senses!" Mountjoy exclaimed. + +"I'm out of myself sir, if that's what you mean," Fanny answered. "I do +so enjoy treating a man in that way! The master's going out to +dinner--he'll know nothing about it--and," cried the cool cold woman of +other times, "he richly deserves it." + +Hugh reasoned and remonstrated, and failed to produce the slightest +effect. + +His next effort was to write a few lines to Lady Harry, entreating her +to remember that a jealous man is sometimes capable of acts of the +meanest duplicity, and that she might be watched. When he gave the note +to Fanny to deliver, she informed him respectfully that he had better +not trust her. A person sometimes meant to do right (she reminded him), +and sometimes ended in doing wrong. Rather than disappoint her +mistress, she was quite capable of tearing up the letter, on her way +home, and saying nothing about it. Hugh tried a threat next: "Your +mistress will not find me, if she comes here; I shall go out to-night." +The impenetrable maid looked at him with a pitying smile, and answered: + +"Not you!" + +It was a humiliating reflection--but Fanny Mere understood him better +than he understood himself. + +All that Mountjoy had said and done in the way of protest, had been +really dictated by consideration for the young wife. If he questioned +his conscience, selfish delight in the happy prospect of seeing Iris +again asserted itself, as the only view with which he looked forward to +the end of the day. When the evening approached, he took the precaution +of having his own discreet and faithful servant in attendance, to +receive Lady Harry at the door of the hotel, before the ringing of the +bell could summon the porter from his lodge. On calm consideration, the +chances seemed to be in favour of her escaping detection by Lord Harry. +The jealous husband of the stage, who sooner (or later) discovers the +innocent (or guilty) couple, as the case may be, is not always the +husband of the world outside the theatre. With this fragment of +experience present in his mind, Hugh saw the door of his sitting-room +cautiously opened, at an earlier hour than he had anticipated. His +trustworthy representative introduced a lady, closely veiled--and that +lady was Iris. + +CHAPTER XXXII + +GOOD-BYE TO IRIS + +LADY HARRY lifted her veil, and looked at Mountjoy with sad entreaty in +her eyes. "Are you angry with me?" she asked. + +"I ought to be angry with you," he said. "This is a very imprudent, +Iris." + +"It's worse than that," she confessed. "It's reckless and desperate. +Don't say I ought to have controlled myself. I can't control the shame +I feel when I think of what has happened. Can I let you go--oh, what a +return for your kindness!--without taking your hand at parting? Come +and sit by me on the sofa. After my poor husband's conduct, you and I +are not likely to meet again. I don't expect you to lament it as I do. +Even your sweetness and your patience--so often tried--must be weary of +me now." + +"If you thought that possible, my dear, you would not have come here +to-night," Hugh reminded her. "While we live, we have the hope of +meeting again. Nothing in this world lasts, Iris--not even jealousy. +Lord Harry himself told me that he was a variable man. Sooner or later +he will come to his senses." + +Those words seemed to startle Iris. "I hope you don't think that my +husband is brutal to me!" she exclaimed, still resenting even the +appearance of a reflection on her marriage, and still forgetting what +she herself had said which justified a doubt of her happiness. "Have +you formed a wrong impression?" she went on. "Has Fanny Mere +innocently--?" + +Mountjoy noticed, for the first time, the absence of the maid. It was a +circumstance which justified him in interrupting Iris--for it might +seriously affect her if her visit to the hotel happened to be +discovered. + +"I understood," he said, "that Fanny was to come here with you." + +"Yes! yes! She is waiting in the carriage. We are careful not to excite +attention at the door of the hotel; the coachman will drive up and down +the street till I want him again. Never mind that! I have something to +say to you about Fanny. She thinks of her own troubles, poor soul, when +she talks to me, and exaggerates a little without meaning it. I hope +she has not misled you in speaking of her master. It is base and bad of +him, unworthy of a gentleman, to be jealous--and he has wounded me +deeply. But dear Hugh, his jealousy is a gentle jealousy. I have heard +of other men who watch their wives--who have lost all confidence in +them--who would even have taken away from me such a trifle as this." +She smiled, and showed to Mountjoy her duplicate key of the cottage +door. "Ah, Harry is above such degrading distrust as that! There are +times when he is as heartily ashamed of his own weakness as I could +wish him to be. I have seen him on his knees before me, shocked at his +conduct. He is no hypocrite. Indeed, his repentance is sincere, while +it lasts--only it doesn't last! His jealousy rises and falls, like the +wind. He said last night (when the wind was high): 'If you wish to make +me the happiest creature on the face of the earth, don't encourage Mr. +Mountjoy to remain in Paris!' Try to make allowances for him!" + +"I would rather make allowances, Iris, for you. Do _you,_ too wish me +to leave Paris?" + +Sitting very near to him--nearer than her husband might have liked to +see--Iris drew away a little. "Did you mean to be cruel in saying +that?" she asked. "I don't deserve it." + +"It was kindly meant," Hugh assured her. "If I can make your position +more endurable by going away, I will leave Paris to-morrow." + +Iris moved back again to the place which she had already occupied. She +was eager to thank him (for a reason not yet mentioned) as she had +never thanked him yet. Silently and softly she offered her gratitude to +Hugh, by offering her cheek. The irritating influence of Lord Harry's +jealousy was felt by both of them at that moment. He kissed her +cheek--and lingered over it. She was the first to recover herself. + +"When you spoke just now of my position with my husband," she said, +"you reminded me of anxieties, Hugh, in which you once shared, and of +services which I can never forget." + +Preparing him in those words for the disclosure which she had now to +make, Iris alluded to the vagabond life of adventure which Lord Harry +had led. The restlessness in his nature which that life implied, had +latterly shown itself again; and his wife had traced the cause to a +letter from Ireland, communicating a report that the assassin of Arthur +Mountjoy had been seen in London, and was supposed to be passing under +the name of Carrigeen. Hugh would understand that the desperate +resolution to revenge the murder of his friend, with which Lord Harry +had left England in the past time, had been urged into action once +more. He had not concealed from Iris that she must be resigned to his +leaving her for awhile, if the report which had reached him from +Ireland proved to be true. It would be useless, and worse than useless, +to remind this reckless man of the danger that threatened him from the +Invincibles, if he returned to England. In using her power of +influencing the husband who still loved her, Iris could only hope to +exercise a salutary restraint in her own domestic interests, appealing +to him for indulgence by careful submission to any exactions on which +his capricious jealousy might insist. Would sad necessity excuse her, +if she accepted Mountjoy's offer to leave Paris, for the one reason +that her husband had asked it of her as a favour? + +Hugh at once understood her motive, and assured her of his sympathy. + +"You may depend upon my returning to London to-morrow," he said. "In +the meantime, is there no better way in which I can be of use to you? +If your influence fails, do you see any other chance of keeping Lord +Harry's desperate purpose under control?" + +It had only that day occurred to Iris that there might be some prospect +of an encouraging result, if she could obtain the assistance of Mrs. +Vimpany. + +The doctor's wife was well acquainted with Lord Harry's past life, when +he happened to be in Ireland; and she had met many of his countrymen +with whom he had associated. If one of those friends happened to be the +officious person who had written to him, it was at least possible that +Mrs. Vimpany's discreet interference might prevent his mischievous +correspondent from writing again. Lord Harry, waiting for more news, +would in this event wait in vain. He would not know where to go, or +what to do next--and, with such a nature as his, the end of his +patience and the end of his resolution were likely to come together. + +Hugh handed his pocket-book to Iris. Of the poor chances in her favour, +the last was to his mind the least hopeless of the two. + +"If you have discovered the name of your husband's correspondent," he +said, "write it down for me, and I will ask Mrs. Vimpany if she knows +him. I will make your excuses for not having written to her lately; +and, in any case, I answer for her being ready to help you." + +As Iris thanked him and wrote the name, the clock on the chimneypiece +struck the hour. + +She rose to say farewell. With a restless hand she half-lowered her +veil, and raised it again. "You won't mind my crying," she said +faintly, trying to smile through her tears. "This is the saddest +parting I have ever known. Dear, dear Hugh--good-bye!" + +Great is the law of Duty; but the elder law of Love claims its higher +right. Never, in all the years of their friendship, had they forgotten +themselves as they forgot themselves now. For the first time her lips +met his lips, in their farewell kiss. In a moment more, they remembered +the restraints which honour imposed on them; they were only friends +again. Silently she lowered her veil. Silently he took her arm and led +her down to the carriage. It was moving away from them at a slow pace, +towards the other end of the street. Instead of waiting for its return, +they followed and overtook it. + +"We shall meet again," he whispered. + +She answered sadly: "Don't forget me." + +Mountjoy turned back. As he approached the hotel he noticed a tall man +crossing from the opposite side of the street. Not two minutes after +Iris was on her way home, her jealous husband and her old friend met at +the hotel door. + +Lord Harry spoke first. "I have been dining out," he said, "and I came +here to have a word with you, Mr. Mountjoy, on my road home." + +Hugh answered with formal politeness: "Let me show your lordship the +way to my rooms." + +"Oh, it's needless to trouble you," Lord Harry declared. "I have so +little to say--do you mind walking on with me for a few minutes?" + +Mountjoy silently complied. He was thinking of what might have happened +if Iris had delayed her departure--or if the movement of the carriage +had been towards, instead of away from the hotel. In either case it had +been a narrow escape for the wife, from a dramatic discovery by the +husband. + +"We Irishmen," Lord Harry resumed, "are not famous for always obeying +the laws; but it is in our natures to respect the law of hospitality. +When you were at the cottage yesterday I was inhospitable to my guest. +My rude behaviour has weighed on my mind since--and for that reason I +have come here to speak to you. It was ill-bred on my part to reproach +you with your visit, and to forbid you (oh, quite needlessly, I don't +doubt!) to call on me again. If I own that I have no desire to propose +a renewal of friendly intercourse between us, you will understand me, I +am sure; with my way of thinking, the less we see of each other for the +future, the better it may be. But, for what I said when my temper ran +away with me, I ask you to accept my excuses, and the sincere +expression of my regret." + +"Your excuses are accepted, my lord, as sincerely as you have offered +them," Mountjoy answered. "So far as I am concerned, the incident is +forgotten from this moment." + +Lord Harry expressed his courteous acknowledgments. "Spoken as becomes +a gentleman," he said. "I thank you." + +There it ended. They saluted each other; they wished each other +good-night. "A mere formality!" Hugh thought, when they had parted. + +He had wronged the Irish lord in arriving at that conclusion. But time +was to pass before events helped him to discover his error. + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +THE DECREE OF FATE + +ON his arrival in London, Mountjoy went to the Nurses' Institute to +inquire for Mrs. Vimpany. + +She was again absent, in attendance on another patient. The address of +the house (known only to the matron) was, on this occasion, not to be +communicated to any friend who might make inquiries. A bad case of +scarlet fever had been placed under the nurse's care, and the danger of +contagion was too serious to be trifled with. + +The events which had led to Mrs. Vimpany's present employment had not +occurred in the customary course. + +A nurse who had recently joined the Institute had been first engaged to +undertake the case, at the express request of the suffering person--who +was said to be distantly related to the young woman. On the morning +when she was about to proceed to the scene of her labours, news had +reached her of the dangerous illness of her mother. Mrs. Vimpany, who +was free at the time, and who felt a friendly interest in her young +colleague, volunteered to take her place. Upon this, a strange request +had been addressed to the matron, on behalf of the sick man. He desired +to be "informed of it, if the new nurse was an Irishwoman." Hearing +that she was an Englishwoman, he at once accepted her services, being +himself (as an additional element of mystery in the matter) an +Irishman! + +The matron's English prejudices at once assumed that there had been +some discreditable event in the man's life, which might be made a +subject of scandalous exposure if he was attended by one of his own +countrypeople. She advised Mrs. Vimpany to have nothing to do with the +afflicted stranger. The nurse answered that she had promised to attend +on him--and she kept her promise. + +Mountjoy left the Institute, after vainly attempting to obtain Mrs. +Vimpany's address. The one concession which the matron offered to make +was to direct his letter, and send it to the post, if he would be +content with that form of communication. + +On reflection, he decided to write the letter. + +Prompt employment of time might be of importance, if it was possible to +prevent any further communication with Lord Larry on the part of his +Irish correspondent. Using the name with which Iris had provided him, +Hugh wrote to inquire if it was familiar to Mrs. Vimpany, as the name +of a person with whom she had been, at any time, acquainted. In this +event, he assured her that an immediate consultation between them was +absolutely necessary in the interests of Iris. He added, in a +postscript, that he was in perfect health, and that he had no fear of +infection--and sent his letter to the matron to be forwarded. + +The reply reached him late in the evening. It was in the handwriting of +a stranger, and was to this effect: + +"Dear Mr. Mountjoy,--It is impossible that I can allow you to run the +risk of seeing me while I am in my present situation. So serious is the +danger of contagion in scarlet fever, that I dare not even write to you +with my own hand on note-paper which has been used in the sick room. +This is no mere fancy of mine; the doctor in attendance here knows of a +case in which a small piece of infected flannel communicated the +disease after an interval of no less than a year. I must trust to your +own good sense to see the necessity of waiting, until I can receive you +without any fear of consequences to yourself. In the meantime, I may +answer your inquiry relating to the name communicated in your letter. I +first knew the gentleman you mention some years since; we were +introduced to each other by Lord Harry; and I saw him afterwards on +more than one occasion." + +Mountjoy read this wise and considerate reply to his letter with +indignation. + +Here was the good fortune for which he had not dared to hope, declaring +itself in favour of Iris. Here (if Mrs. Vimpany could be persuaded to +write to her friend) was the opportunity offered of keeping the +hot-tempered Irish husband passive and harmless, by keeping him without +further news of the assassin of Arthur Mountjoy. Under these +encouraging circumstances the proposed consultation which might have +produced such excellent results had been rejected; thanks to a +contemptible fear of infection, excited by a story of a trumpery piece +of flannel! + +Hugh snatched up the unfortunate letter (cast away on the floor) to +tear it in pieces and throw it into the waste-paper basket--and checked +himself. His angry hand had seized on it with the blank leaf of the +note-paper uppermost. + +On that leaf he discovered two little lines of print, presenting, in +the customary form, the address of the house at which the letter had +been written! The writer, in taking the sheet of paper from the case, +must have accidentally turned it wrong side uppermost on the desk, and +had not cared to re-copy the letter, or had not discovered the mistake. +Restored to his best good-humour, Hugh resolved to surprise Mrs. +Vimpany by a visit, on the next day, which would set the theory of +contagion at defiance, and render valuable service to Iris at a crisis +in her life. + +Having time before him for reflection, in the course of the evening, he +was at no loss to discover a formidable obstacle in the way of his +design. + +Whether he gave his name or concealed his name, when he asked for Mrs. +Vimpany at the house-door, she would in either case refuse to see him. +The one accessible person whom he could consult in this difficulty was +his faithful old servant. + +That experienced man--formerly employed, at various times, in the army, +in the police, and in service at a public school--obtained leave to +make some preliminary investigations on the next morning. + +He achieved two important discoveries. In the first place, Mrs. Vimpany +was living in the house in which the letter to his master had been +written. In the second place, there was a page attached to the domestic +establishment (already under notice to leave his situation), who was +accessible to corruption by means of a bribe. The boy would be on the +watch for Mr. Mountjoy at two o'clock on that day, and would show him +where to find Mrs. Vimpany, in the room near the sick man, in which she +was accustomed to take her meals. + +Hugh acted on his instructions, and found the page waiting to admit him +secretly to the house. Leading the way upstairs, the boy pointed with +one hand to a door on the second floor, and held out the other hand to +receive his money. While he pocketed the bribe, and disappeared, +Mountjoy opened the door. + +Mrs. Vimpany was seated at a table waiting for her dinner. When Hugh +showed himself she started to her feet with a cry of alarm. + +"Are you mad?" she exclaimed. "How did you get here? What do you want +here? Don't come near me!" + +She attempted to pass Hugh on her way out of the room. He caught her by +the arm, led her back to her chair, and forced her to seat herself +again. "Iris is in trouble," he pleaded, "and you can help her." + +"The fever!" she cried, heedless of what he had said. "Keep back from +me--the fever!" + +For the second time she tried to get out of the room. For the second +time Hugh stopped her. + +"Fever or no fever," he persisted, "I have something to say to you. In +two minutes I shall have said it, and I will go." + +In the fewest possible words he described the situation of Iris with +her jealous husband. Mrs. Vimpany indignantly interrupted him. + +"Are you running this dreadful risk," she asked, "with nothing to say +to me that I don't know already? Her husband jealous of her? Of course +he is jealous of her! Leave me--or I will ring for the servant." + +"Ring, if you like," Hugh answered; "but hear this first. My letter to +you alluded to a consultation between us, which might be necessary in +the interests of Iris. Imagine her situation if you can! The assassin +of Arthur Mountjoy is reported to be in London; and Lord Harry has +heard of it." + +Mrs. Vimpany looked at him with horror in her eyes. + +"Gracious God!" she cried, "the man is here--under my care. Oh, I am +not in the conspiracy to hide the wretch! I knew no more of him than +you do when I offered to nurse him. The names that have escaped him, in +his delirium, have told me the truth." + +As she spoke, a second door in the room was opened. An old woman showed +herself for a moment, trembling with terror. "He's breaking out again, +nurse! Help me to hold him!" + +Mrs. Vimpany instantly followed the woman into the bed-room. "Wait and +listen," she said to Mountjoy--and left the door open. + +The quick, fierce, muttering tones of a man in delirium were now +fearfully audible. His maddened memory was travelling back over his own +horrible life. He put questions to himself; he answered himself: + +"Who drew the lot to kill the traitor? I did! I did! Who shot him on +the road, before he could get to the wood? I did! I did! Arthur +Mountjoy, traitor to Ireland. Set that on his tombstone, and disgrace +him for ever. Listen, boys--listen! There is a patriot among you. I am +the patriot--preserved by a merciful Providence. Ha, my Lord Harry, +search the earth and search the sea, the patriot is out of your reach! +Nurse! What's that the doctor said of me? The fever will kill him? +Well, what does that matter, as long as Lord Harry doesn't kill me? +Open the doors, and let everybody hear of it. I die the death of a +saint--the greatest of all saints--the saint who shot Arthur Mountjoy. +Oh, the heat, the heat, the burning raging heat!" The tortured creature +burst into a dreadful cry of rage and pain. It was more than Hugh's +resolution could support. He hurried out of the house. + + * * * * * * * * + +Ten days passed. A letter, in a strange handwriting, reached Iris at +Passy. + +The first part of the letter was devoted to the Irish desperado, whom +Mrs. Vimpany had attended in his illness. + +When she only knew him as a suffering fellow-creature she had promised +to be his nurse. Did the discovery that he was an assassin justify +desertion, or even excuse neglect? No! the nursing art, like the +healing art, is an act of mercy--in itself too essentially noble to +inquire whether the misery that it relieves merits help. All that +experience, all that intelligence, all that care could offer, the nurse +gave to the man whose hand she would have shrunk from touching in +friendship, after she had saved his life. + +A time had come when the fever threatened to take Lord Harry's +vengeance out of his hands. The crisis of the disease declared itself. +With the shadow of death on him, the wretch lived through it--saved by +his strong constitution, and by the skilled and fearless woman who +attended on him. At the period of his convalescence, friends from +Ireland (accompanied by a medical man of their own choosing) presented +themselves at the house, and asked for him by the name under which he +passed--Carrigeen. With every possible care, he was removed; to what +destination had never been discovered. From that time, all trace of him +had been lost. + +Terrible news followed on the next page. + +The subtle power of infection had asserted itself against the poor +mortal who had defied it. Hugh Mountjoy, stricken by the man who had +murdered his brother, lay burning under the scarlet fire of the fever. + +But the nurse watched by him, night and day. + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +MY LORD'S MIND + +HERE, my old-vagabond-Vimpany, is an interesting case for you--the cry +of a patient with a sick mind. + +Look over it, and prescribe for your wild Irish friend, if you can. + +You will perhaps remember that I have never thoroughly trusted you, in +all the years since we have known each other. At this later date in our +lives, when I ought to see more clearly than ever what an unfathomable +man you are, am I rash enough to be capable of taking you into my +confidence? + +I don't know what I am going to do; I feel like a man who has been +stunned. To be told that the murderer of Arthur Mountjoy had been seen +in London--to be prepared to trace him by his paltry assumed name of +Carrigeen--to wait vainly for the next discovery which might bring him +within reach of retribution at my hands--and then to be overwhelmed by +the news of his illness, his recovery, and his disappearance: these are +the blows which have stupefied me. Only think of it! He has escaped me +for the second time. Fever that kills thousands of harmless creatures +has spared the assassin. He may yet die in his bed, and be buried, with +the guiltless dead around him, in a quiet churchyard. I can't get over +it; I shall never get over it. + +Add to this, anxieties about my wife, and maddening letters from +creditors--and don't expect me to write reasonably. + +What I want to know is whether your art (or whatever you call it) can +get at my diseased mind, through my healthy body. You have more than +once told me that medicine can do this. The time has come for doing it. +I am in a bad way, and a bad end may follow. My only medical friend, +deliver me from myself. + +In any case, let me beg you to keep your temper while you read what +follows. + +I have to confess that the devil whose name is Jealousy has entered +into me, and is threatening the tranquillity of my married life. You +dislike Iris, I know--and she returns your hostile feeling towards her. +Try to do my wife justice, nevertheless, as I do. I don't believe my +distrust of her has any excuse--and yet, I am jealous. More +unreasonable still, I am as fond of her as I was in the first days of +the honeymoon. Is she as fond as ever of me? You were a married man +when I was a boy. Let me give you the means of forming an opinion by a +narrative of her conduct, under (what I admit to have been) very trying +circumstances. + +When the first information reached Iris of Hugh Mountjoy's dangerous +illness, we were at breakfast. It struck her dumb. She handed the +letter to me, and left the table. + +I hate a man who doesn't know what it is to want money; I hate a man +who keeps his temper; I hate a man who pretends to be my wife's friend, +and who is secretly in love with her all the time. What difference did +it make to me whether Hugh Mountjoy ended in living or dying? If I had +any interest in the matter, it ought by rights (seeing that I am +jealous of him) to be an interest in his death. Well! I declare +positively that the alarming news from London spoilt my breakfast There +is something about that friend of my wife--that smug, prosperous, +well-behaved Englishman--which seems to plead for him (God knows how!) +when my mind is least inclined in his favour. While I was reading about +his illness, I found myself hoping that he would recover--and, I give +you my sacred word of honour, I hated him all the time. + +My Irish friend is mad--you will say. Your Irish friend, my dear +follow, does not dispute it. + +Let us get back to my wife. She showed herself again after a long +absence, having something (at last) to say to her husband. + +"I am innocently to blame," she began, "for the dreadful misfortune +that has fallen on Mr. Mountjoy. If I had not given him a message to +Mrs. Vimpany, he would never have insisted on seeing her, and would +never have caught the fever. It may help me to bear my misery of +self-reproach and suspense, if I am kept informed of his illness. There +is no fear of infection by my receiving letters. I am to write to a +friend of Mrs. Vimpany, who lives in another house, and who will answer +my inquiries. Do you object, dear Harry, to my getting news of Hugh +Mountjoy every day, while he is in danger?" + +I was perfectly willing that she should get that news, and she ought to +have known it. + +It seemed to me to be also a bad sign that she made her request with +dry eyes. She must have cried, when she first heard that he was likely +to sink under an attack of fever. Why were her tears kept hidden in her +own room? When she came back to me, her face was pale and hard and +tearless. Don't you think she might have forgotten my jealousy, when I +was so careful myself not to show it? My own belief is that she was +longing to go to London, and help your wife to nurse the poor man, and +catch the fever, and die with him if _he_ died. + +Is this bitter? Perhaps it is. Tear it off, and light your pipe with +it. + +Well, the correspondence relating to the sick man continued every day; +and every day--oh, Vimpany, another concession to my jealousy!--she +handed the letters to me to read. I made excuses (we Irish are good at +that, if we are good at nothing else), and declined to read the medical +reports. One morning, when she opened the letter of that day, there +passed over her a change which is likely to remain in my memory as long +as I live. Never have I seen such an ecstasy of happiness in any +woman's face, as I saw when she read the lines which informed her that +the fever was mastered. Iris is sweet and delicate and bright-- +essentially fascinating, in a word. But she was never a beautiful +woman, until she knew that Mountjoy's life was safe; and she will never +be a beautiful woman again, unless the time comes when my death leaves +her free to marry him. On her wedding-day, he will see the +transformation that I saw--and he will be dazzled as I was. + +She looked at me, as if she expected me to speak. + +"I am glad indeed," I said, "that he is out of danger." + +She ran to me--she kissed me; I wouldn't have believed it was in her to +give such kisses. "Now I have your sympathy," she said, "my happiness +is complete!" Do you think I was indebted for these kisses to myself or +to that other man? No, no--here is an unworthy doubt. I discard it. +Vile suspicion shall not wrong Iris this time. + +And yet---- + +Shall I go on, and write the rest of it? + +Poor, dear Arthur Mountjoy once told me of a foreign author, who was in +great doubt of the right answer to some tough question that troubled +him. He went into his garden and threw a stone at a tree. If he hit the +tree, the answer would be--Yes. If he missed the tree, the answer would +be--No. I am going into the garden to imitate the foreign author. You +shall hear how it ends. + +I have hit the tree. As a necessary consequence, I must go on and write +the rest of it. + +There is a growing estrangement between Iris and myself--and my +jealousy doesn't altogether account for it. Sometimes, it occurs to me +that we are thinking of what our future relations with Mountjoy are +likely to be, and are ashamed to confess it to each other. +Sometimes--and perhaps this second, and easiest, guess may be the right +one--I am apt to conclude that we are only anxious about money matters. +I am waiting for her to touch on the subject, and she is waiting for +me; and there we are at a deadlock. + +I wish I had some reason for going to some other place. I wish I was +lost among strangers. I should like to find myself in a state of +danger, meeting the risks that I used to run in my vagabond days. Now I +think of it, I might enjoy this last excitement by going back to +England, and giving the Invincibles a chance of shooting me as a +traitor to the cause. But my wife would object to that. + +Suppose we change the subject. + +You will be glad to hear that you knew something of law, as well as of +medicine. I sent instructions to my solicitor in London to raise a loan +on my life-insurance. What you said to me turns out to be right. I +can't raise a farthing, for three years to come, out of all the +thousands of pounds which I shall leave behind me when I die. + +Are my prospects from the newspaper likely to cheer me after such a +disappointment as this? The new journal, I have the pleasure of +informing you, is much admired. When I inquire for my profits, I hear +that the expenses are heavy, and I am told that I must wait for a rise +in our circulation. How long? Nobody knows, + +I shall keep these pages open for a few days more, on the chance of +something happening which may alter my present position for the better. + + +My position has altered for the worse. + +I have been obliged to fill my empty purse, for a little while, by +means of a bit of stamped paper. And how shall I meet my liabilities +when the note falls due? Let time answer the question; for the present +the evil day is put off. In the meanwhile, if that literary speculation +of yours is answering no better than my newspaper, I can lend you a few +pounds to get on with. What do you say (on second thoughts) to coming +back to your old quarters at Passy, and giving me your valuable advice +by word of mouth instead of by letter? + +Come, and feel my pulse, and look at my tongue--and tell me how these +various anxieties of mine are going to end, before we are any of us a +year older. Shall I, like you, be separated from my wife--at her +request; oh, not at mine! Or shall I be locked up in prison? And what +will become of You? Do you take the hint, doctor? + +CHAPTER XXXV + +MY LADY'S MIND + +"ENTREAT Lady Harry not to write to me. She will be tempted to do so, +when she hears that there is good hope of Mr. Mountjoy's recovery. But, +even from that loving and generous heart, I must not accept expressions +of gratitude which would only embarrass me. All that I have done, as a +nurse, and all that I may yet hope to do, is no more than an effort to +make amends for my past life. Iris has my heart's truest wishes for her +happiness. Until I can myself write to her without danger, let this be +enough." + + +In those terms, dearest of women, your friend has sent your message to +me. My love respects as well as admires you; your wishes are commands +to me. At the same time, I may find some relief from the fears of the +future that oppress me, if I can confide them to friendly ears. May I +not harmlessly write to you, if I only write of my own poor self? + +Try, dear, to remember those pleasant days when you were staying with +us, in our honeymoon time, at Paris. + +You warned me, one evening when we were alone, to be on my guard +against any circumstances which might excite my husband's jealousy. +Since then, the trouble that you foresaw has fallen on me; mainly, I am +afraid, through my own want of self-control. It is so hard for a woman, +when she really loves a man, to understand a state of mind which can +make him doubt her. + +I have discovered that jealousy varies. Let me tell you what I mean. + +Lord Harry was silent and sullen (ah, how well I knew what that meant!) +while the life of our poor Hugh was in jeopardy. When I read the good +news which told me that he was no longer in danger, I don't know +whether there was any change worth remarking in myself--but, there was +a change in my husband, delightful to see. His face showed such sweet +sympathy when he looked at me, he spoke so kindly and nicely of Hugh, +that I could only express my pleasure by kissing him. You will hardly +believe me, when I tell you that his hateful jealousy appeared again, +at that moment. He looked surprised, he looked suspicious--he looked, I +declare, as if he doubted whether I meant it with all my heart when I +kissed him! What incomprehensible creatures men are! We read in novels +of women who are able to manage their masters. I wish I knew how to +manage mine. + +We have been getting into debt. For some weeks past, this sad state of +things has been a burden on my mind. Day after day I have been +expecting him to speak of our situation, and have found him obstinately +silent. Is his mind entirely occupied with other things? Or is he +unwilling to speak of our anxieties because the subject humiliates him? +Yesterday, I could bear it no longer. + +"Our debts are increasing," I said. "Have you thought of any way of +paying them?" + +I had feared that my question might irritate him. To my relief, he +seemed to be diverted by it. + +"The payment of debts," he replied, "is a problem that I am too poor to +solve. Perhaps I got near to it the other day." + +I asked how. + +"Well," he said, "I found myself wishing I had some rich friends. +By-the-bye, how is _your_ rich friend? What have you heard lately of +Mr. Mountjoy?" + +"I have heard that he is steadily advancing towards recovery." + +"Likely, I dare say, to return to France when he feels equal to it," my +husband remarked. "He is a good-natured creature. If he finds himself +in Paris again, I wonder whether he will pay us another visit?" + +He said this quite seriously. On my side, I was too much as astonished +to utter a word. My bewilderment seemed to amuse him. In his own +pleasant way he explained himself: + +"I ought to have told you, my dear, that I was in Mr. Mountjoy's +company the night before he returned to England. We had said some +disagreeable things to each other here in the cottage, while you were +away in your room. My tongue got the better of my judgment. In short, I +spoke rudely to our guest. Thinking over it afterwards, I felt that I +ought to make an apology. He received my sincere excuses with an +amiability of manner, and a grace of language, which raised him greatly +in my estimation." + +There you have Lord Harry's own words! Who would suppose that he had +ever been jealous of the man whom he spoke of in this way? + +I explain it to myself, partly by the charm in Hugh's look and manner, +which everybody feels; partly by the readiness with which my husband's +variable nature receives new impressions. I hope you agree with me. In +any case, pray let Hugh see what I have written to you in this place, +and ask him what he thinks of it.* + +*_Note by Mrs. Vimpany._--I shall certainly not be foolish enough to +show what she has written to Mr. Mountjoy. Poor deluded Iris! Miserable +fatal marriage! + +Encouraged, as you will easily understand, by the delightful prospect +of a reconciliation between them, I was eager to take my first +opportunity of speaking freely of Hugh. Up to that time, it had been a +hard trial to keep to myself so much that was deeply interesting in my +thoughts and hopes. But my hours of disappointment were not at an end +yet. We were interrupted. + +A letter was brought to us--one of many, already received!--insisting +on immediate payment of a debt that had been too long unsettled. The +detestable subject of our poverty insisted on claiming attention when +there was a messenger outside, waiting for my poor Harry's last French +bank note. + +"What is to be done?" I said, when we were left by ourselves again. + +My husband's composure was something wonderful. He laughed and lit a +cigar. + +"We have got to the crisis," he said. "The question of money has driven +us into a corner at last. My darling, have you ever heard of such a +thing as a promissory note?" + +I was not quite so ignorant as he supposed me to be; I said I had heard +my father speak of promissory notes. + +This seemed to fail in convincing him. "Your father," he remarked, +"used to pay his notes when they fell due." + +I betrayed my ignorance, after all. "Doesn't everybody do the same?" I +asked. + +He burst out laughing. "We will send the maid to get a bit of stamped +paper," he said; "I'll write the message for her, this time." + +Those last words alluded to Fanny's ignorance of the French language, +which made it necessary to provide her with written instructions, when +she was sent on an errand. In our domestic affairs, I was able to do +this; but, in the present case, I only handed the message to her. When +she returned with a slip of stamped paper, Harry called to me to come +to the writing-table. + +"Now, my sweet," he said, "see how easily money is to be got with a +scratch of the pen." + +I looked, over his shoulder. In less than a minute it was done; and he +had produced ten thousand francs on paper--in English money (as he told +me), four hundred pounds. This seemed to be a large loan; I asked how +he proposed to pay it back. He kindly reminded me that he was a +newspaper proprietor, and, as such, possessed of the means of inspiring +confidence in persons with money to spare. They could afford, it seems, +to give him three months in which to arrange for repayment. In that +time, as he thought, the profits of the new journal might come pouring +in. He knew best, of course. + +We took the next train to Paris, and turned our bit of paper into notes +and gold. Never was there such a delightful companion as my husband, +when he has got money in his pocket. After so much sorrow and anxiety, +for weeks past, that memorable afternoon was like a glimpse of +Paradise. + +On the next morning, there was an end to my short-lived enjoyment of no +more than the latter half of a day. + +Watching her opportunity, Fanny Mere came to me while I was alone, +carrying a thick letter in her hand. She held it before me with the +address uppermost. + +"Please to look at that," she said. + +The letter was directed (in Harry's handwriting) to Mr. Vimpany, at a +publishing office in London. Fanny next turned the envelope the other +way. + +"Look at this side," she resumed. + +The envelope was specially protected by a seal; bearing a device of my +husband's own invention; that is to say, the initials of his name +(Harry Norland) surmounted by a star--his lucky star, as he paid me the +compliment of calling it, on the day when he married me. I was thinking +of that day now. Fanny saw me looking, with a sad heart, at the +impression on the wax. She completely misinterpreted the direction +taken by my thoughts. + +"Tell me to do it, my lady," she proceeded; "and I'll open the letter." + +I looked at her. She showed no confusion. "I can seal it up again," she +coolly explained, "with a bit of fresh wax and my thimble. Perhaps Mr. +Vimpany won't be sober enough to notice it." + +"Do you know, Fanny, that you are making a dishonourable proposal to +me?" I said. + +"I know there's nothing I can do to help you that I won't do," she +answered; "and you know why. I have made a dishonourable proposal--have +I? That comes quite naturally to a lost woman like me. Shall I tell you +what Honour means? It means sticking at nothing, in your service. +Please tell me to open the letter." + +"How did you come by the letter, Fanny?" + +"My master gave it to me to put in the post." + +"Then, post it." + +The strange creature, so full of contraries--so sensitive at one time, +so impenetrable at another--pointed again to the address. + +"When the master writes to that man," she went on--"a long letter (if +you will notice), and a sealed letter--your ladyship ought to see what +is inside it. I haven't a doubt myself that there's writing under this +seal which bodes trouble to you. The spare bedroom is empty. Do you +want to have the doctor for your visitor again? Don't tell me to post +the letter, till I've opened it first." + +"I do tell you to post the letter." + +Fanny submitted, so far. But she had a new form of persuasion to try, +before her reserves of resistance were exhausted. "If the doctor comes +back," she continued, "will your ladyship give me leave to go out, +whenever I ask for it?" + +This was surely presuming on my indulgence. "Are you not expecting a +little too much?" I suggested--not unkindly. + +"If you say that, my lady," she answered, "I shall be obliged to ask +you to suit yourself with another maid." + +There was a tone of dictation in this, which I found beyond endurance. +In my anger, I said: "Leave me whenever you like." + +"I shall leave you when I'm dead--not before," was the reply that I +received. "But if you won't let me have my liberty without going away +from you, for a time, I must go--for your sake." + +(For my sake! Pray observe that.) + +She went on: + +"Try to see it, my lady, as I do! If we have the doctor with us again, +I must be able to watch him." + +"Why?" + +"Because he is your enemy, as I believe." + +"How can he hurt me, Fanny?" + +"Through your husband, my lady, if he can do it in no other way. Mr. +Vimpany shall have a spy at his heels. Dishonourable! oh, dishonourable +again! Never mind. I don't pretend to know what that villain means to +do, if he and my lord get together again. But this I can tell you, if +it's in woman's wit to circumvent him, here I am with my mind made up. +With my mind, made up!" she repeated fiercely--and recovered on a +sudden her customary character as a quiet well-trained servant, devoted +to her duties. "I'll take my master's letter to the post now," she +said. "Is there anything your ladyship wants in the town?" + +What do you think of Fanny Mere? Ought I to have treated this last +offer of her services, as I treated her proposal to open the letter? I +was not able to do it. + +The truth is, I was so touched by her devotion to me, that I could not +prevail on myself to mortify her by a refusal. I believe there may be a +good reason for the distrust of the doctor which possesses her so +strongly; and I feel the importance of having this faithful and +determined woman for an ally. Let me hope that Mr. Vimpany's return (if +it is to take place) may be delayed until you can safely write, with +your own hand, such a letter of wise advice as I sadly need. + +In the meantime, give my love to Hugh, and say to this dear friend all +that I might have said for myself, if I had been near him. But take +care that his recovery is not retarded by anxiety for me. Pray keep him +in ignorance of the doubts and fears with which I am now looking at the +future. If I was not so fond of my husband, I should be easier in my +mind. This sounds contradictory, but I believe you will understand it. +For a while, my dear, good-bye. + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +THE DOCTOR MEANS MISCHIEF + +ON the day after Lord Harry's description of the state of his mind +reached London, a gentleman presented himself at the publishing office +of Messrs. Boldside Brothers, and asked for the senior partner, Mr. +Peter Boldside. When he sent in his card, it bore the name of "Mr. +Vimpany." + +"To what fortunate circumstance am I indebted, sir, for the honour of +your visit?" the senior partner inquired. His ingratiating manners, his +genial smile, his roundly resonant voice, were personal advantages of +which he made a merciless use. The literary customer who entered the +office, hesitating before the question of publishing a work at his own +expense, generally decided to pay the penalty when he encountered Mr. +Peter Boldside. + +"I want to inquire about the sale of my work," Mr. Vimpany replied. + +"Ah, doctor, you have come to the wrong man. You must go to my +brother." + +Mr. Vimpany protested. "You mentioned the terms when I first applied to +you," he said, "and you signed the agreement." + +"That is in _my_ department," the senior partner gently explained. "And +I shall write the cheque when, as we both hope, your large profits +shall fall due. But our sales of works are in the department of my +brother, Mr. Paul Boldside." He rang a bell; a clerk appeared, and +received his instructions: "Mr. Paul. Good-morning, doctor." + +Mr. Paul was, personally speaking, his brother repeated--without the +deep voice, and without the genial smile. Conducted to the office of +the junior partner, Mr. Vimpany found himself in the presence of a +stranger, occupied in turning over the pages of a newspaper. When his +name was announced, the publisher started, and handed his newspaper to +the doctor. + +"This is a coincidence," he said. "I was looking, sir, for your name in +the pages which I have just put into your hand. Surely the editor can't +have refused to publish your letter?" + +Mr. Vimpany was sober, and therefore sad, and therefore (again) not to +be trifled with by a mystifying reception. "I don't understand you," he +answered gruffly. "What do you mean?" + +"Is it possible that you have not seen last week's number of the +paper?" Mr. Paul asked. "And you a literary man!" He forthwith produced +the last week's number, and opened it at the right place. "Read that, +sir," he said, with something in his manner which looked like virtuous +indignation. + +Mr. Vimpany found himself confronted by a letter addressed to the +editor. It was signed by an eminent physician, whose portrait had +appeared in the first serial part of the new work--accompanied by a +brief memoir of his life, which purported to be written by himself. Not +one line of the autobiography (this celebrated person declared) had +proceeded from his pen. Mr. Vimpany had impudently published an +imaginary memoir, full of false reports and scandalous inventions--and +this after he had been referred to a trustworthy source for the +necessary particulars. Stating these facts, the indignant physician +cautioned readers to beware of purchasing a work which, so far as he +was concerned, was nothing less than a fraud on the public. + +"If you can answer that letter, sir," Mr. Paul Boldside resumed, "the +better it will be, I can tell you, for the sale of your publication." + +Mr. Vimpany made a reckless reply: "I want to knew how the thing sells. +Never mind the letter." + +"Never mind the letter?" the junior partner repeated. "A positive +charge of fraud is advanced by a man at the head of his profession +against a work which _we_ have published--and you say, Never mind the +letter." + +The rough customer of the Boldsides struck his fist on the table. +"Bother the letter! I insist on knowing what the sale is." + +Still preserving his dignity, Mr. Paul (like Mr. Peter) rang for the +clerk, and briefly gave an order. "Mr. Vimpany's account," he said--and +proceeded to admonish Mr. Vimpany himself. + +"You appear, sir, to have no defence of your conduct to offer. Our firm +has a reputation to preserve. When I have consulted with my brother, we +shall be under the disagreeable necessity--" + +Here (as he afterwards told his brother) the publisher was brutally +interrupted by the author: + +"If you will have it," said this rude man, "here it is in two words. +The doctor's portrait is the likeness of an ass. As he couldn't do it +himself, I wanted materials for writing his life. He referred me to the +year of his birth, the year of his marriage, the year of this, that, +and the other. Who cares about dates? The public likes to be tickled by +personal statements. Very well--I tickled the public. There you have it +in a nutshell." + +The clerk appeared at that auspicious moment, with the author's account +neatly exhibited under two sides: a Debtor side, which represented the +expenditure of Hugh Mountjoy's money; and a Creditor side, which +represented (so far) Mr. Vimpany's profits. Amount of these last: 3_l._ +14_s._ 10_d._ + +Mr. Vimpany tore up the account, threw the pieces in the face of Mr. +Paul, and expressed his sentiments in one opprobrious word: +"Swindlers!" + +The publisher said: "You shall hear of us, sir, through our lawyer." + +And the author answered: "Go to the devil!" + + +Once out in the streets again, the first open door at which Mr. Vimpany +stopped was the door of a tavern. He ordered a glass of brandy and +water, and a cigar. + +It was then the hour of the afternoon, between the time of luncheon and +the time of dinner, when the business of a tavern is generally in a +state of suspense. The dining-room was empty when Mr. Vimpany entered +it: and the waiter's unoccupied attention was in want of an object. +Having nothing else to notice, he looked at the person who had just +come in. The deluded stranger was drinking fiery potato-brandy, and +smoking (at the foreign price) an English cigar. Would his taste tell +him the melancholy truth? No: it seemed to matter nothing to him what +he was drinking or what he was smoking. Now he looked angry, and now he +looked puzzled; and now he took a long letter from his pocket, and read +it in places, and marked the places with a pencil. "Up to some +mischief," was the waiter's interpretation of these signs. The stranger +ordered a second glass of grog, and drank it in gulps, and fell into +such deep thought that he let his cigar go out. Evidently, a man in +search of an idea. And, to all appearance, he found what he wanted on a +sudden. In a hurry he paid his reckoning, and left his small change and +his unfinished cigar on the table, and was off before the waiter could +say, "Thank you." + +The next place at which he stopped was a fine house in a spacious +square. A carriage was waiting at the door. The servant who opened the +door knew him. + +"Sir James is going out again, sir, in two minutes," the man said. Mr. +Vimpany answered: "I won't keep him two minutes." + +A bell rang from the room on the ground floor; and a gentleman came +out, as Mr. Vimpany was shown in. Sir James's stethoscope was still in +his hand; his latest medical fee lay on the table. "Some other day, +Vimpany," the great surgeon said; "I have no time to give you now." + +"Will you give me a minute?" the humble doctor asked. + +"Very well. What is it?" + +"I am down in the world now, Sir James, as you know--and I am trying to +pick myself up again." + +"Very creditable, my good fellow. How can I help you? Come, come--out +with it. You want something?" + +"I want your great name to do me a great service. I am going to France. +A letter of introduction, from you, will open doors which might be +closed to an unknown man like myself." + +"What doors do you mean?" Sir James asked. + +"The doors of the hospitals in Paris." + +"Wait a minute, Vimpany. Have you any particular object in view?" + +"A professional object, of course," the ready doctor answered. "I have +got an idea for a new treatment of diseases of the lungs; and I want to +see if the French have made any recent discoveries in that direction." + +Sir James took up his pen--and hesitated. His ill-starred medical +colleague had been his fellow-student and his friend, in the days when +they were both young men. They had seen but little of each other since +they had gone their different ways--one of them, on the high road which +leads to success, the other down the byways which end in failure. The +famous surgeon felt a passing doubt of the use which his needy and +vagabond inferior might make of his name. For a moment his pen was held +suspended over the paper. But the man of great reputation was also a +man of great heart. Old associations pleaded with him, and won their +cause. His companion of former times left the house provided with a +letter of introduction to the chief surgeon at the Hotel Dieu, in +Paris. + +Mr. Vimpany's next, and last, proceeding for that day, was to stop at a +telegraph-office, and to communicate economically with Lord Harry in +three words: + +"Expect me to-morrow." + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +THE FIRST QUARREL + +EARLY in the morning of the next day, Lord Harry received the doctor's +telegram. Iris not having risen at the time, he sent for Fanny Mere, +and ordered her to get the spare room ready for a guest. The maid's +busy suspicion tempted her to put a venturesome question. She asked if +the person expected was a lady or a gentleman. + +"What business is it of yours who the visitor is?" her master asked +sharply. Always easy and good-humoured with his inferiors in general, +Lord Harry had taken a dislike to his wife's maid, from the moment when +he had first seen her. His Irish feeling for beauty and brightness was +especially offended by the unhealthy pallor of the woman's complexion, +and the sullen self-suppression of her manner. All that his native +ingenuity had been able to do was to make her a means of paying a +compliment to his wife. "Your maid has one merit in my eyes," he said; +"she is a living proof of the sweetness of your temper." + +Iris joined her husband at the breakfast-table with an appearance of +disturbance in her face, seldom seen, during the dull days of her life +at Passy. "I hear of somebody coming to stay with us," she said. "Not +Mr. Vimpany again, I hope and trust?" + +Lord Harry was careful to give his customary morning kiss, before he +replied. "Why shouldn't my faithful old friend come and see me again?" +he asked, with his winning smile. + +"Pray don't speak of that hateful man," she answered, "as your faithful +old friend! He is nothing of the kind. What did you tell me when he +took leave of us after his last visit, and I owned I was glad that he +had gone? You said: 'Faith, my dear, I'm as glad as you are.'" + +Her good-natured husband laughed at this little picture of himself. +"Ah, my darling, how many more times am I to make the same confession +to my pretty priest? Try to remember, without more telling, that it's +one of my misfortunes to be a man of many tempers. There are times when +I get tired to death of Mr. Vimpany; and there are times when the +cheery old devil exercises fascinations over me. I declare you're +spoiling the eyebrows that I admire by letting them twist themselves +into a frown! After the trouble I have taken to clear your mind of +prejudice against an unfortunate man, it's disheartening to find you so +hard on the poor fellow's faults and so blind to his virtues." + +The time had been when this remonstrance might have influenced his +wife's opinion. She passed it over without notice now. + +"Does he come here by your invitation?" she asked. + +"How else should he come here, my dear?" + +She looked at her husband with doubt too plainly visible in her eyes. +"I wonder what your motive is for sending for him," she said. + +He was just lifting his teacup to his lips--he put it down again when +he heard those words. + +"Are you ill this morning?" he asked. + +"No." + +"Have I said anything that has offended you?" + +"Certainly not." + +"Then I must tell you this, Iris; I don't approve of what you have just +said. It sounds, to my mind, unpleasantly like suspicion of me and +suspicion of my friend. I see your face confessing it, my lady, at this +moment." + +"You are half right, Harry, and no more. What you see in my face is +suspicion of your friend." + +"Founded on what, if you please?" + +"Founded on what I have seen of him, and on what I know of him. When +you tried to alter my opinion of Mr. Vimpany some time since, I did my +best to make my view your view. I deceived myself, for your sake; I put +the best construction on what he said and did, when he was staying +here. It was well meant, but it was of no use. In a thousand different +ways, while he was doing his best to win my favour, his true self was +telling tales of him under the fair surface. Mr. Vimpany is a bad man. +He is the very worst friend you could have about you at any time--and +especially at a time when your patience is tried by needy +circumstances." + +"One word, Iris. The more eloquent you are, the more I admire you. +Only, don't mention my needy circumstances again." + +She passed over the interruption as she had already passed over the +remonstrance, without taking notice of it. + +"Dearest, you are always good to me," she continued gently. "Am I wrong +in thinking that love gives me some little influence over you still? +Women are vain--are they not?--and I am no better than the rest of +them. Flatter your wife's vanity, Harry, by attaching some importance +to her opinion. Is there time enough, yet, to telegraph to Mr. Vimpany? +Quite out of the question, is it? Well, then, if he must come here, +do--pray, pray do consider Me. Don't let him stay in the house! I'll +find a good excuse, and take a bedroom for him in the neighbourhood. +Anywhere else, so long as he is not here. He turns me cold when I think +of him, sleeping under the same roof with ourselves. Not with us! oh, +Harry, not with us!" + +Her eyes eagerly searched her husband's face; she looked there for +indulgence, she looked for conviction. No! he was still admiring her. + +"On my word of honour," he burst out, "you fascinate me. What an +imagination you have got! One of these days, Iris, I shall be prouder +of you than ever; I shall find you a famous literary character. I don't +mean writing a novel; women who can't even hem a handkerchief can write +a novel. It's poetry I'm thinking of. Irish melodies by Lady Harry that +beat Tom Moore. What a gift! And there are fortunes made, as I have +heard, by people who spoil fair white paper to some purpose. I wish I +was one of them." + +"Have you no more to say to me?" she asked. + +"What more should there be? You wouldn't have me take you seriously, in +what you have just said of Vimpany?" + +"Why not?" + +"Oh, come, come, my darling! Just consider. With a bedroom empty and +waiting, upstairs, is my old Vimpany to be sent to quarters for the +night among strangers? I wouldn't speak harshly to you, Iris, for the +whole world; and I don't deny that the convivial doctor may be +sometimes a little too fond of his drop of grog. You will tell me, +maybe, that he hasn't got on nicely with his wife; and I grant it. +There are not many people who set such a pretty example of matrimony as +we do. Poor humanity--there's all that's to be said about it. But when +you tell me that Vimpany is a bad man, and the worst friend I could +possibly have, and so forth--what better can I do than set it down to +your imagination? I've a pretty fancy, myself; and I think I see my +angel inventing poetical characters, up among congenial clouds. What's +the matter? Surely, you haven't done breakfast yet?" + +"Yes." + +"Are you going to leave me?" + +"I am going to my room." + +"You're in a mighty hurry to get away. I never meant to vex you, Iris. +Ah, well, if you must leave the table, I'll have the honour of opening +the door for you, at any rate. I wonder what you're going to do?" + +"To cultivate my imagination," she answered, with the first outbreak of +bitterness that had escaped her yet. + +His face hardened. "There seems to be something like bearing malice in +this," he said. "Are you treating me, for the first time, to an +exhibition of enmity? What am I to call it, if it's not that?" + +"Call it disappointment," she suggested quietly, and left him. + +Lord Harry went back to his breakfast. His jealousy was up in arms +again. "She's comparing me with her absent friend," he said to himself, +"and wishing she had married the amiable Mountjoy instead of me." + +So the first quarrel ended--and Mr. Vimpany had been the cause of it. + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +ICI ON PARLE FRANACAIS + +THE doctor arrived in good time for dinner, and shook hands with the +Irish lord in excellent spirits. + +He looked round the room, and asked where my lady was. Lord Harry's +reply suggested the presence of a cloud on the domestic horizon. He had +been taking a long ride, and had only returned a few minutes since; +Iris would (as he supposed) join them immediately. + +The maid put the soup on the table, and delivered a message. Her +mistress was suffering from a headache, and was not well enough to dine +with the gentlemen. + +As an old married man, Mr. Vimpany knew what this meant; he begged +leave to send a comforting message to the suffering lady of the house. +Would Fanny be good enough to say that he had made inquiries on the +subject of Mr. Mountjoy's health, before he left London. The report was +still favourable; there was nothing to complain of but the +after-weakness which had followed the fever. On that account only, the +attendance of the nurse was still a matter of necessity. "With my +respects to Lady Harry," he called after Fanny, as she went out in +dogged silence. + +"I have begun by making myself agreeable to your wife," the doctor +remarked with a self-approving grin. "Perhaps she will dine with us +to-morrow. Pass the sherry." + +The remembrance of what had happened at the breakfast-table, that +morning, seemed to be dwelling disagreeably on Lord Harry's mind. He +said but little--and that little related to the subject on which he had +already written, at full length, to his medical friend. + +In an interval, when the service of the table required the attendance +of Fanny in the kitchen, Mr. Vimpany took the opportunity of saying a +few cheering words. He had come (he remarked) prepared with the right +sort of remedy for an ailing state of mind, and he would explain +himself at a fitter opportunity. Lord Harry impatiently asked why the +explanation was deferred. If the presence of the maid was the obstacle +which caused delay, it would be easy to tell her that she was not +wanted to wait. + +The wary doctor positively forbade this. + +He had observed Fanny, during his previous visit, and had discovered +that she seemed to distrust him. The woman was sly and suspicious. +Since they had sat down to dinner, it was easy to see that she was +lingering in the room to listen to the conversation, on one pretence or +another. If she was told not to wait, there could be no doubt of her +next proceeding: she would listen outside the door. "Take my word for +it," the doctor concluded, "there are all the materials for a spy in +Fanny Mere." + +But Lord Harry was obstinate. Chafing under the sense of his helpless +pecuniary position, he was determined to hear, at once, what remedy for +it Vimpany had discovered. + +"We can set that woman's curiosity at defiance," he said. + +"How?" + +"When you were learning your profession, you lived in Paris for some +years, didn't you? + +"All right!" + +"Well, then, you can't have entirely forgotten your French?" + +The doctor at once understood what this meant, and answered +significantly by a wink. He had found an opportunity (he said) of +testing his memory, not very long since. Time had undoubtedly deprived +him of his early mastery over the French language; but he could still +(allowing for a few mistakes) make a shift to understand it and speak +it. There was one thing, however, that he wanted to know first. Could +they be sure that my lady's maid had not picked up French enough to use +her ears to some purpose? Lord Harry easily disposed of this doubt. So +entirely ignorant was the maid of the language of the place in which +she was living, that she was not able to ask the tradespeople for the +simplest article of household use, unless it was written for her in +French before she was sent on an errand. + +This was conclusive. When Fanny returned to the dining-room, she found +a surprise waiting for her. The two gentlemen had taken leave of their +nationality, and were talking the language of foreigners. + + +An hour later, when the dinner-table had been cleared, the maid's +domestic duties took her to Lady Harry's room to make tea. She noticed +the sad careworn look on her mistress's face, and spoke of it at once +in her own downright way. + +"I thought it was only an excuse," she said, "when you gave me that +message to the gentlemen, at dinner-time. Are you really ill, my lady?" + +"I am a little out of spirits," Iris replied. + +Fanny made the tea. "I can understand that," she said to herself, as +she moved away to leave the room; "I'm out of spirits myself." + +Iris called her back: "I heard you say just now, Fanny, that you were +out of spirits yourself. If you were speaking of some troubles of your +own, I am sorry for you, and I won't say any more. But if you know what +my anxieties are, and share them--" + +"Mine is the biggest share of the two," Fanny broke out abruptly. "It +goes against the grain with me to distress you, my lady; but we are +beginning badly, and you ought to know it. The doctor has beaten me +already." + +"Beaten you already?" Iris repeated. "Tell me plainly what you mean?" + +"Here it is, if you please, as plainly as words can say it. Mr. Vimpany +has something--something wicked, of course--to say to my master; and he +won't let it pass his lips here, in the cottage." + +"Why not?" + +"Because he suspects me of listening at the door, and looking through +the keyhole. I don't know, my lady, that he doesn't even suspect You. +'I've learnt something in the course of my life,' he says to my master; +'and it's a rule with me to be careful of what I talk about indoors, +when there are women in the, house, What are you going to do +to-morrow?' he says. My lord told him there was to be a meeting at the +newspaper office. The doctor says: 'I'll go to Paris with you. The +newspaper office isn't far from the Luxembourg Gardens. When you have +done your business, you will find me waiting at the gate. What I have +to tell you, you shall hear out of doors in the Gardens--and in an open +part of them, too, where there are no lurking-places among the trees.' +My master seemed to get angry at being put off in this way. 'What is it +you have got to tell me?' he says. 'Is it anything like the proposal +you made, when you were on your last visit here?' The doctor laughed. +'To-morrow won't be long in coming,' he says. 'Patience, my +lord--patience.' There was no getting him to say a word more. Now, what +am I to do? How am I to get a chance of listening to him, out in an +open garden, without being seen? There's what I mean when I say he has +beaten me. It's you, my lady--it's you who will suffer in the end." + +"You don't _know_ that, Fanny." + +"No, my lady--but I'm certain of it. And here I am, as helpless as +yourself! My temper has been quiet, since my misfortune; it would be +quiet still, but for this." The one animating motive, the one +exasperating influence, in that sad and secret life was still the +mistress's welfare--still the safety of the generous woman who had +befriended and forgiven her. She turned aside from the table, to hide +her ghastly face. + +"Pray try to control yourself." As Iris spoke, she pointed kindly to a +chair. "There is something that I want to say when you are composed +again. I won't hurry you; I won't look at you. Sit down, Fanny." + +She appeared to shrink from being seated in her mistress's presence. +"Please to let me go to the window," she said; "the air will help me." + +To the window she went, and struggled with the passionate self so +steadily kept under at other times; so obstinately conquered now. "What +did you wish to say to me?" she asked. + +"You have surprised--you have perplexed me," Iris said. "I am at a loss +to understand how you discovered what seems to have passed between your +master and Mr. Vimpany. You don't surely mean to tell me that they +talked of their private affairs while you were waiting at table?" + +"I don't tell lies, my lady," Fanny declared impulsively. "They talked +of nothing else all through the dinner." + +"Before _you!"_ Iris exclaimed. + +There was a pause. Fear and shame confessed themselves furtively on the +maid's colourless face. Silently, swiftly, she turned to the door. Had +a slip of the tongue hurried her into the betrayal of something which +it was her interest to conceal? "Don't be alarmed," Iris said +compassionately; "I have no wish to intrude on your secrets." + +With her hand on the door, Fanny Mere closed it again, and came back. + +"I am not so ungrateful," she said, "as to have any secrets from You. +It's hard to confess what may lower me in your good opinion, but it +must be done. I have deceived your ladyship--and I am ashamed of it. I +have deceived the doctor--and I glory in it. My master and Mr. Vimpany +thought they were safe in speaking French, while I was waiting on them. +I know French as well as they do." + +Iris could hardly believe what she heard. "Do you really mean what you +say?" she asked. + +"There's that much good in me," Fanny replied; "I always mean what I +say." + +"Why did you deceive me? Why have you been acting the part of an +ignorant woman?" + +"The deceit has been useful in your service," the obstinate maid +declared. "Perhaps it may be useful again." + +"Was that what you were thinking of," Iris said, "when you allowed me +to translate English into French for you, and never told me the truth?" + +"At any rate, I will tell you the truth, now. No: I was not thinking of +you, when you wrote my errands for me in French--I was thinking again +of some advice that was once given to me." + +"Was it advice given by a friend?" + +"Given by a man, my lady, who was the worst enemy I have ever had." + +Her considerate mistress understood the allusion, and forbade her to +distress herself by saying more. But Fanny felt that atonement, as well +as explanation, was due to her benefactress. Slowly, painfully she +described the person to whom she had referred. He was a Frenchman, who +had been her music-master during the brief period at which she had +attended a school: he had promised her marriage; he had persuaded her +to elope with him. The little money that they had to live on was earned +by her needle, and by his wages as accompanist at a music-hall. While +she was still able to attract him, and to hope for the performance of +his promise, he amused himself by teaching her his own language. When +he deserted her, his letter of farewell contained, among other things +the advice to which she had alluded. + +"In your station of life," this man had written, "knowledge of French +is still a rare accomplishment. Keep your knowledge to yourself. +English people of rank have a way of talking French to each other, when +they don't wish to be understood by their inferiors. In the course of +your career, you may surprise secrets which will prove to be a little +fortune, if you play your cards properly. Anyhow, it is the only +fortune I have to leave to you." Such had been the villain's parting +gift to the woman whom he had betrayed. + +She had hated him too bitterly to be depraved by his advice. + +On the contrary, when the kindness of a friend (now no longer in +England) had helped her to obtain her first employment as a domestic +servant, she had thought it might be to her interest to mention that +she could read, write, and speak French. The result proved to be not +only a disappointment, but a warning to her for the future. Such an +accomplishment as a knowledge of a foreign language possessed by an +Englishwoman, in her humble rank of life, was considered by her +mistress to justify suspicion. Questions were asked, which it was +impossible for her to answer truthfully. Small scandal drew its own +conclusions--her life with the other servants became unendurable--she +left her situation. + +From that time, until the happy day when she met with Iris, concealment +of her knowledge of French became a proceeding forced on her by her own +poor interests. Her present mistress would undoubtedly have been taken +into her confidence, if the opportunity had offered itself. But Iris +had never encouraged her to speak of the one darkest scene in her life; +and for that reason, she had kept her own counsel until the date of her +mistress's marriage. Distrusting the husband, and the husband's +confidential friend--for were they not both men?--she had thought of +the vile Frenchman's advice, and had resolved to give it a trial; not +with the degrading motive which he had suggested, but with the vague +presentiment of making a discovery of wickedness, threatening mischief +under a French disguise, which might be of service to her benefactress +at some future time. + +"And I may still turn it to your advantage, my lady," Fanny ventured to +add, "if you will consent to say nothing to anybody of your having a +servant who has learnt French." + +Iris looked at her coldly and gravely. "Must I remind you," she said, +"that you are asking my help in practicing a deception on my husband?" + +"I shall be sent away," Fanny answered, "if you tell my master what I +have told you." + +This was indisputably true. Iris hesitated. In her present situation, +the maid was the one friend on whom she could rely. Before her +marriage, she would have recoiled from availing herself, under any +circumstances, of such services as Fanny's reckless gratitude had +offered to her. But the moral atmosphere in which she was living had +begun, as Mrs. Vimpany had foreseen, to exert its baneful influence. +The mistress descended to bargaining with the servant. + +"Deceive the doctor," she said, "and I well remember that it may be for +my good." She stopped, and considered for a moment. Her noble nature +rallied its forces, and prompted her next words: "But respect your +master, if you wish me to keep your secret. I forbid you to listen to +what my lord may say, when he speaks with Mr. Vimpany to-morrow." + +"I have already told your ladyship that I shall have no chance of +listening to what they say to each other, out of doors," Fanny +rejoined. "But I can watch the doctor at any rate. We don't know what +he may not do when he is left by himself, while my master is at the +meeting. I want to try if I can follow that rogue through the streets, +without his finding me out. Please to send me on an errand to Paris +to-morrow." + +"You will be running a terrible risk," her mistress reminded her, "if +Mr. Vimpany discovers you." + +"I'll take my chance of that," was the reckless reply. + +Iris consented. + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +THE MYSTERY OF THE HOSPITAL + +ON the next morning Lord Harry left the cottage, accompanied by the +doctor. + +After a long absence, he returned alone. His wife's worst +apprehensions, roused by what Fanny had told her, were more than +justified, by the change which she now perceived in him. His eyes were +bloodshot, his face was haggard, his movements were feeble and slow. He +looked like a man exhausted by some internal conflict, which had +vibrated between the extremes of anger and alarm. "I'm tired to death," +he said; "get me a glass of wine." + +She waited on him with eager obedience, and watched anxiously for the +reviving effect of the stimulant. + +The little irritabilities which degrade humanity only prolong their +mischievous existence, while the surface of life stagnates in calm. +Their annihilation follows when strong emotion stirs in the depths, and +raises the storm. The estrangement of the day before passed as +completely from the minds of the husband and wife--both strongly +agitated--as if it had never existed. All-mastering fear was busy at +their hearts; fear, in the woman, of the unknown temptation which had +tried the man; fear, in the man, of the tell-tale disturbance in him, +which might excite the woman's suspicion. Without venturing to look at +him, Iris said: "I am afraid you have heard bad news?" Without +venturing to look at her, Lord Harry answered: "Yes, at the newspaper +office." She knew that he was deceiving her; and he felt that she knew +it. For awhile, they were both silent. + +From time to time, she anxiously stole a look at him. + +His mind remained absorbed in thought. There they were, in the same +room--seated near each other; united by the most intimate of human +relationships--and yet how far, how cruelly far, apart! The slowest of +all laggard minutes, the minutes which are reckoned by suspense, +followed each other tardily and more tardily, before there appeared the +first sign of a change. He lifted his drooping head. Sadly, longingly, +he looked at her. The unerring instinct of true love encouraged his +wife to speak to him. + +"I wish I could relieve your anxieties," she said simply. "Is there +nothing I can do to help you?" + +"Come here, Iris." + +She rose and approached him. In the past days of the honeymoon and its +sweet familiarities, he had sometimes taken her on his knee. He took +her on his knee now, and put his arm round her. "Kiss me," he said. + +With all her heart she kissed him. He sighed heavily; his eyes rested +on her with a trustful appealing look which she had never observed in +them before. + +"Why do you hesitate to confide in me?" she asked. "Dear Harry, do you +think I don't see that something troubles you?" + +"Yes," he said, "there is something that I regret." + +"What is it?" + +"Iris," he answered, "I am sorry I asked Vimpany to come back to us." + +At that unexpected confession, a bright flush of joy and pride +overspread his wife's face. Again, the unerring instinct of love guided +her to discovery of the truth. The opinion of his wicked friend must +have been accidentally justified, at the secret interview of that day, +by the friend himself! In tempting her husband, Vimpany had said +something which must have shocked and offended him. The result, as she +could hardly doubt, had been the restoration of her domestic influence +to its helpful freedom of control--whether for the time only it was not +in her nature, at that moment of happiness, to inquire. "After what you +have just told me," she ventured to say, "I may own that I am glad to +see you come home, alone." + +In that indirect manner, she confessed the hope that friendly +intercourse between the two men had come to an end. His reply +disappointed her. + +"Vimpany only remains in Paris," he said, "to present a letter of +introduction. He will follow me home." + +"Soon?" she asked, piteously. + +"In time for dinner, I suppose." She was still sitting on his knee. His +arm pressed her gently when he said his next words, "I hope you will +dine with us to-day, Iris?" + +"Yes--if you wish it." + +"I wish it very much. Something in me recoils from being alone with +Vimpany. Besides, a dinner at home without you is no dinner at all." + +She thanked him for that little compliment by a look. At the same time, +her grateful sense of her husband's kindness was embittered by the +prospect of the doctor's return. "Is he likely to dine with us often, +now?" she was bold enough to say. + +"I hope not." + +Perhaps he was conscious that he might have made a more positive reply. +He certainly took refuge in another subject--more agreeable to himself. + +"My dear, you have expressed the wish to relieve my anxieties," he +said; "and you can help me, I think, in that way. I have a letter to +write--of some importance, Iris, to your interests as well as to +mine--which must go to Ireland by to-day's post. You shall read it, and +say if you approve of what I have done. Don't let me be disturbed. This +letter, I can tell you, will make a hard demand on my poor brains--I +must go and write in my own room." + +Left alone with the thoughts that now crowded on her mind, Iris found +her attention claimed once more by passing events. Fanny Mere arrived, +to report herself on her return from Paris. + +She had so managed her departure from Passy as to precede Lord Harry +and Mr. Vimpany, and to watch for their arrival in Paris by a later +train. They had driven from the railway to the newspaper office---with +the maid in attendance on them in another cab. When they separated, the +doctor proceeded on foot to the Luxembourg Gardens. Wearing a plain +black dress, and protected from close observation by her veil, Fanny +followed him, cautiously keeping at a sufficient distance, now on one +side of the street and now on the other. When my lord joined his +friend, she just held them in view, and no more, as they walked up and +down in the barest and loneliest part of the Gardens that they could +find. Their talk having come to an end, they parted. Her master was the +first who came out into the street; walking at a great rate, and +looking most desperately upset. Mr. Vimpany next appeared, sauntering +along with his hands in his pockets, grinning as if his own villainous +thoughts were thoroughly amusing him. Fanny was now more careful than +ever not to lose sight of the doctor. The course which he pursued led +them to the famous hospital called the Hotel Dieu. + +At the entrance she saw him take a letter out of his pocket, and give +it to the porter. Soon afterwards, a person appeared who greeted him +politely, and conducted him into the building. For more than an hour, +Fanny waited to see Mr. Vimpany come out again, and waited in vain. +What could he possibly want in a French hospital? And why had he +remained in that foreign institution for so long a time? Baffled by +these mysteries, and weary after much walking, Fanny made the best of +her way home, and consulted her mistress. + +Even if Iris had been capable of enlightening her, the opportunity was +wanting. Lord Harry entered the room, with the letter which he had just +written, open in his hand, As a matter of course, the maid retired. + +CHAPTER XL + +DIRE NECESSITY + +THE Irish lord had a word to say to his wife, before he submitted to +her the letter which he had just written. + +He had been summoned to a meeting of proprietors at the office of the +newspaper, convened to settle the terms of a new subscription rendered +necessary by unforeseen expenses incurred in the interests of the +speculation. The vote that followed, after careful preliminary +consultation, authorised a claim on the purses of subscribing +proprietors, which sadly reduced the sum obtained by Lord Harry's +promissory note. Nor was this inconvenience the only trial of endurance +to which the Irish lord was compelled to submit. The hope which he had +entertained of assistance from the profits of the new journal, when +repayment of the loan that he had raised became due, was now plainly +revealed as a delusion. Ruin stared him in the face, unless he could +command the means of waiting for the pecuniary success of the +newspaper, during an interval variously estimated at six months, or +even at a year to come. + +"Our case is desperate enough," he said, "to call for a desperate +remedy. Keep up your spirits, Iris--I have written to my brother." + +Iris looked at him in dismay. + +"Surely," she said, "you once told me you had written to your brother, +and he answered you in the cruellest manner through his lawyers." + +"Quite true, my dear. But, this time, there is one circumstance in our +favour--my brother is going to be married. The lady is said to be an +heiress; a charming creature, admired and beloved wherever she goes. +There must surely be something to soften the hardest heart in that +happy prospect. Read what I have written, and tell me what you think of +it." + +The opinion of the devoted wife encouraged the desperate husband: the +letter was dispatched by the post of that day. + +If boisterous good spirits can make a man agreeable at the +dinner-table, then indeed Mr. Vimpany, on his return to the cottage, +played the part of a welcome guest. He was inexhaustible in gallant +attentions to his friend's wife; he told his most amusing stories in +his happiest way; he gaily drank his host's fine white Burgundy, and +praised with thorough knowledge of the subject the succulent French +dishes; he tried Lord Harry with talk on politics, talk on sport, and +(wonderful to relate in these days) talk on literature. The preoccupied +Irishman was equally inaccessible on all three subjects. When the +dessert was placed on the table--still bent on making himself agreeable +to Lady Harry--Mr. Vimpany led the conversation to the subject of +floriculture. In the interests of her ladyship's pretty little garden, +he advocated a complete change in the system of cultivation, and +justified his revolutionary views by misquoting the published work of a +great authority on gardening with such polite obstinacy that Iris +(eager to confute him) went away to fetch the book. The moment he had +entrapped her into leaving the room, the doctor turned to Lord Harry +with a sudden change to the imperative mood in look and manner. + +"What have you been about," he asked, "since we had that talk in the +Gardens to-day? Have you looked at your empty purse, and are you wise +enough to take my way of filling it?" + +"As long as there's the ghost of a chance left to me," Lord Harry +replied, "I'll take any way of filling my purse but yours." + +"Does that mean you have found a way?" + +"Do me a favour, Vimpany. Defer all questions till the end of the +week." + +"And then I shall have your answer?" + +"Without fail, I promise it. Hush!" + +Iris returned to the dining-room with her book; and polite Mr. Vimpany +owned in the readiest manner that he had been mistaken. + +The remaining days of the week followed each other wearily. During the +interval, Lord Harry's friend carefully preserved the character of a +model guest--he gave as little trouble as possible. Every morning after +breakfast the doctor went away by the train. Every morning (with +similar regularity) he was followed by the resolute Fanny Mere. +Pursuing his way through widely different quarters of Paris, he +invariably stopped at a public building, invariably presented a letter +at the door, and was invariably asked to walk in. Inquiries, patiently +persisted in by the English maid, led in each case to the same result. +The different public buildings were devoted to the same benevolent +purpose. Like the Hotel Dieu, they were all hospitals; and Mr. +Vimpany's object in visiting them remained as profound a mystery as +ever. + +Early on the last morning of the week the answer from Lord Harry's +brother arrived. Hearing of it, Iris ran eagerly into her husband's +room. The letter was already scattered in fragments on the floor. What +the tone of the Earl's inhuman answer had been in the past time, that +it was again now. + +Iris put her arms round her husband's neck. "Oh, my poor love, what is +to be done?" + +He answered in one reckless word: "Nothing!" + +"Is there nobody else who can help us?" she asked. + +"Ah, well, darling, there's perhaps one other person still left," + +"Who is the person?" + +"Who should it be but your own dear self?" + +She looked at him in undisguised bewilderment: "Only tell me, Harry, +what I can do?" + +"Write to Mountjoy, and ask him to lend me the money." + +He said it. In those shameless words, he said it. She, who had +sacrificed Mountjoy to the man whom she had married, was now asked by +that man to use Mountjoy's devotion to her, as a means of paying his +debts! Iris drew back from him with a cry of disgust. + +"You refuse?" he said. + +"Do you insult me by doubting it?" she answered. + +He rang the bell furiously, and dashed out of the room. She heard him, +on the stairs, ask where Mr. Vimpany was. The servant replied: "In the +garden, my lord." + +Smoking a cigar luxuriously in the fine morning air, the doctor saw his +excitable Irish friend hastening out to meet him. + +"Don't hurry," he said, in full possession of his impudent good-humour; +"and don't lose your temper. Will you take my way out of your +difficulties, or will you not? Which is it--Yes or No?" + +"You infernal scoundrel--Yes!" + +"My dear lord, I congratulate you." + +"On what, sir?" + +"On being as great a scoundrel as I am." + +CHAPTER XLI + +THE MAN IS FOUND. + +THE unworthy scheme, by means of which Lord Harry had proposed to +extricate himself from his pecuniary responsibilities, had led to +serious consequences. It had produced a state of deliberate +estrangement between man and wife. + +Iris secluded herself in her own room. Her husband passed the hours of +every day away from the cottage; sometimes in the company of the +doctor, sometimes among his friends in Paris. His wife suffered acutely +under the self-imposed state of separation, to which wounded pride and +keenly felt resentment compelled her to submit. No friend was near her, +in whose compassionate advice she might have token refuge. Not even the +sympathy of her maid was offered to the lonely wife. + +With the welfare of Iris as her one end in view, Fanny Mere honestly +believed that it would be better and safer for Lady Harry if she and +her husband finally decided on living separate lives. The longer my +lord persisted in keeping the doctor with him as his guest, the more +perilously he was associated with a merciless wretch, who would be +capable of plotting the ruin of anyone--man or woman, high person or +low person--who might happen to be an obstacle in his way. So far as a +person in her situation could venture on taking the liberty, the maid +did her best to widen the breach between her master and her mistress. + +While Fanny was making the attempt to influence Lady Harry, and only +producing irritation as the result, Vimpany was exerting stronger +powers of persuasion in the effort to prejudice the Irish lord against +any proposal for reconciliation which might reach him through his wife. + +"I find an unforgiving temper in your charming lady," the doctor +declared. "It doesn't show itself on the surface, my dear fellow, but +there it is. Take a wise advantage of circumstances--say you will raise +no inconvenient objections, if she wants a separation by mutual +consent. Now don't misunderstand me. I only recommend the sort of +separation which will suit our convenience. You know as well as I do +that you can whistle your wife back again--" + +Mr. Vimpany's friend was rude enough to interrupt him, there. + +"I call that a coarse way of putting it," Lord Harry interposed. + +"Put it how you like for yourself," the doctor rejoined. "Lady Harry +may be persuaded to come back to you, when we want her for our grand +project. In the meantime (for I am always a considerate man where women +are concerned) we act delicately towards my lady, in sparing her the +discovery of--what shall I call our coming enterprise?--venturesome +villainy, which might ruin you in your wife's estimation. Do you see +our situation now, as it really is? Very well. Pass the bottle, and +drop the subject for the present." + +The next morning brought with it an event, which demolished the +doctor's ingenious arrangement for the dismissal of Iris from the scene +of action. Lord and Lady Harry encountered each other accidentally on +the stairs. + +Distrusting herself if she ventured to look at him, Iris turned her +eyes away from her husband. He misinterpreted the action as an +expression of contempt. Anger at once inclined him to follow Mr. +Vimpany's advice. + +He opened the door of the dining-room, empty at that moment, and told +Iris that he wished to speak with her. What his villainous friend had +suggested that he should say, on the subject of a separation, he now +repeated with a repellent firmness which he was far from really +feeling. The acting was bad, but the effect was produced. For the first +time, his wife spoke to him. + +"Do you really mean it?" she asked, + +The tone in which she said those words, sadly and regretfully telling +its tale of uncontrollable surprise; the tender remembrance of past +happy days in her eyes; the quivering pain, expressive of wounded love, +that parted her lips in the effort to breathe freely, touched his +heart, try as he might in the wretched pride of the moment to conceal +it. He was silent. + +"If you are weary of our married life," she continued, "say so, and let +us part. I will go away, without entreaties and without reproaches. +Whatever pain I may feel, you shall not see it!" A passing flush +crossed her face, and left it pale again. She trembled under the +consciousness of returning love--the blind love that had so cruelly +misled her! At a moment when she most needed firmness, her heart was +sinking; she resisted, struggled, recovered herself. Quietly, and even +firmly, she claimed his decision. "Does your silence mean," she asked, +"that you wish me to leave you?" + +No man who had loved her as tenderly as her husband had loved her, +could have resisted that touching self-control. He answered his wife +without uttering a word--he held out his arms to her. The fatal +reconciliation was accomplished in silence. + +At dinner on that day Mr. Vimpany's bold eyes saw a new sight, and Mr. +Vimpany's rascally lips indulged in an impudent smile. My lady appeared +again in her place at the dinner-table. At the customary time, the two +men were left alone over their wine. The reckless Irish lord, rejoicing +in the recovery of his wife's tender regard, drank freely. +Understanding and despising him, the doctor's devilish gaiety indulged +in facetious reminiscences of his own married life. + +"If I could claim a sovereign," he said, "for every quarrel between +Mrs. Vimpany and myself, I put it at a low average when I declare that +I should be worth a thousand pounds. How does your lordship stand in +that matter? Shall we say a dozen breaches of the marriage agreement up +to the present time?" + +"Say two--and no more to come!" his friend answered cheerfully. + +"No more to come!" the doctor repeated. "My experience says plenty more +to come; I never saw two people less likely to submit to a peaceable +married life than you and my lady. Ha! you laugh at that? It's a habit +of mine to back my opinion. I'll bet you a dozen of champagne there +will be a quarrel which parts you two, for good and all, before the +year is out. Do you take the bet?" + +"Done!" cried Lord Harry. "I propose my wife's good health, Vimpany, in +a bumper. She shall drink confusion to all false prophets in the first +glass of your champagne!" + +The post of the next morning brought with it two letters. + +One of them bore the postmark of London, and was addressed to Lady +Harry Norland. It was written by Mrs. Vimpany, and it contained a few +lines added by Hugh Mountjoy. "My strength is slow in returning to me" +(he wrote); "but my kind and devoted nurse says that all danger of +infection is at an end. You may write again to your old friend if Lord +Harry sees no objection, as harmlessly as in the happy past time. My +weak hand begins to tremble already. How glad I shall be to hear from +you, it is, happily for me, quite needless to add." + +In her delight at receiving this good news Iris impulsively assumed +that her husband would give it a kindly welcome on his side; she +insisted on reading the letter to him. He said coldly, "I am glad to +hear of Mr. Mountjoy's recovery"--and took up the newspaper. Was this +unworthy jealousy still strong enough to master him, even at that +moment? His wife had forgotten it. Why had he not forgotten it too? + +On the same day Iris replied to Hugh, with the confidence and affection +of the bygone time before her marriage. After closing and addressing +the envelope, she found that her small store of postage stamps was +exhausted, and sent for her maid. Mr. Vimpany happened to pass the open +door of her room, while she was asking for a stamp; he heard Fanny say +that she was not able to accommodate her mistress. "Allow me to make +myself useful," the polite doctor suggested. He produced a stamp, and +fixed it himself on the envelope. When he had proceeded on his way +downstairs, Fanny's distrust of him insisted on expressing itself. "He +wanted to find out what person you have written to," she said. "Let me +make your letter safe in the post." In five minutes more it was in the +box at the office. + +While these trifling events were in course of progress, Mr. Vimpany had +gone into the garden to read the second of the two letters, delivered +that morning, addressed to himself. On her return from the post-office, +Fanny had opportunities of observing him while she was in the +greenhouse, trying to revive the perishing flowers--neglected in the +past days of domestic trouble. + +Noticing her, after he had read his letter over for the second time, +Mr. Vimpany sent the maid into the cottage to say that he wished to +speak with her master. Lord Harry joined him in the garden--looked at +the letter--and, handing it back, turned away. The doctor followed him, +and said something which seemed to be received with objection. Mr. +Vimpany persisted nevertheless, and apparently carried his point. The +two gentlemen consulted the railway time-table, and hurried away +together, to catch the train to Paris. + +Fanny Mere returned to the conservatory, and absently resumed her +employment among the flowers. On what evil errand had the doctor left +the cottage? And, why, on this occasion, had he taken the master with +him? + +The time had been when Fanny might have tried to set these questions at +rest by boldly following the two gentlemen to Paris; trusting to her +veil, to her luck, and to the choice of a separate carriage in the +train, to escape notice. But, although her ill-judged interference with +the domestic affairs of Lady Harry had been forgiven, she had not been +received again into favour unreservedly. Conditions were imposed, which +forbade her to express any opinion on her master's conduct, and which +imperatively ordered her to leave the protection of her mistress--if +protection was really needed--in his lordship's competent hands. "I +gratefully appreciate your kind intentions," Iris had said, with her +customary tenderness of regard for the feelings of others; "but I never +wish to hear again of Mr. Vimpany, or of the strange suspicions which +he seems to excite in your mind." Still as gratefully devoted to Iris +as ever, Fanny viewed the change in my lady's way of thinking as one of +the deplorable results of her return to her husband, and waited +resignedly for the coming time when her wise distrust of two +unscrupulous men would be justified. + +Condemned to inaction for the present, Lady Harry's maid walked +irritably up and down the conservatory, forgetting the flowers. Through +the open back door of the cottage the cheap clock in the hall poured +its harsh little volume of sound, striking the hour. "I wonder," she +said to herself, "if those two wicked ones have found their way to a +hospital yet?" That guess happened to have hit the mark. The two wicked +ones were really approaching a hospital, well known to the doctor by +more previous visits than one. At the door they were met by a French +physician, attached to the institution--the writer of the letter which +had reached Mr. Vimpany in the morning. + +This gentleman led the way to the official department of the hospital, +and introduced the two foreigners to the French authorities assembled +for the transaction of business. + +As a medical man, Mr. Vimpany's claims to general respect and +confidence were carefully presented. He was a member of the English +College of Surgeons; he was the friend, as well as the colleague of the +famous President of that College, who had introduced him to the chief +surgeon of the Hotel Dieu. Other introductions to illustrious medical +persons in Paris had naturally followed. Presented under these +advantages, Mr. Vimpany announced his discovery of a new system of +treatment in diseases of the lungs. Having received his medical +education in Paris, he felt bound in gratitude to place himself under +the protection of "the princes of science," resident in the brilliant +capital of France. In that hospital, after much fruitless investigation +in similar institutions, he had found a patient suffering from the form +of lung disease, which offered to him the opportunity that he wanted. +It was impossible that he could do justice to his new system, unless +the circumstances were especially favourable. Air more pure than the +air of a great city, and bed-room accommodation not shared by other +sick persons, were among the conditions absolutely necessary to the +success of the experiment. These, and other advantages, were freely +offered to him by his noble friend, who would enter into any +explanations which the authorities then present might think it +necessary to demand. + +The explanations having been offered and approved, there was a general +move to the bed occupied by the invalid who was an object of +professional interest to the English doctor. + +The patient's name was Oxbye. He was a native of Denmark, and had +followed in his own country the vocation of a schoolmaster. His +knowledge of the English language and the French had offered him the +opportunity of migrating to Paris, where he had obtained employment as +translator and copyist. Earning his bread, poorly enough in this way, +he had been prostrated by the malady which had obliged him to take +refuge in the hospital. The French physician, under whose medical care +he had been placed, having announced that he had communicated his notes +enclosed in a letter to his English colleague, and having frankly +acknowledged that the result of the treatment had not as yet +sufficiently justified expectation, the officers of the institution +spoke next. The Dane was informed of the nature of Mr. Vimpany's +interest in him, and of the hospitable assistance offered by Mr. +Vimpany's benevolent friend; and the question was then put, whether he +preferred to remain where he was, or whether he desired to be removed +under the conditions which had just been stated? + +Tempted by the prospect of a change, which offered to him a bed-chamber +of his own in the house of a person of distinction--with a garden to +walk about in, and flowers to gladden his eyes, when he got +better--Oxbye eagerly adopted the alternative of leaving the hospital. +"Pray let me go," the poor fellow said: "I am sure I shall be the +better for it." Without opposing this decision, the responsible +directors reminded him that it had been adopted on impulse, and decided +that it was their duty to give him a little time for consideration. + +In the meanwhile, some of the gentlemen assembled at the bedside, +looking at Oxbye and then looking at Lord Harry, had observed a certain +accidental likeness between the patient and "Milord, the +philanthropist," who was willing to receive him. The restraints of +politeness had only permitted them to speak of this curious discovery +among themselves. At the later time, however, when the gentlemen had +taken leave of each other, Mr. Vimpany--finding himself alone with Lord +Harry--had no hesitation in introducing the subject, on which delicacy +had prevented the Frenchmen from entering. + +"Did you look at the Dane?" he began abruptly. + +"Of course I did!" + +"And you noticed the likeness?" + +"Not I!" + +The doctor's uproarious laughter startled the people who were walking +near them in the street. "Here's another proof," he burst out, "of the +true saying that no man knows himself. You don't deny the likeness, I +suppose?" + +"Do you yourself see it?" Lord Harry asked. + +Mr. Vimpany answered the question scornfully: "Is it likely that I +should have submitted to all the trouble I have taken to get possession +of that man, if I had not seen a likeness between his face and yours?" + +The Irish lord said no more. When his friend asked why he was silent, +he gave his reason sharply enough: "I don't like the subject." + +CHAPTER XLII + +THE METTLESOME MAID + +ON the evening of that day Fanny Mere, entering the dining-room with +the coffee, found Lord Harry and Mr. Vimpany alone, and discovered (as +soon as she opened the door) that they changed the language in which +they were talking from English to French. + +She continued to linger in the room, apparently occupied in setting the +various objects on the sideboard in order. Her master was speaking at +the time; he asked if the doctor had succeeded in finding a bed-room +for himself in the neighbourhood. To this Mr. Vimpany replied that he +had got the bed-room. Also, that he had provided himself with something +else, which it was equally important to have at his disposal. "I mean," +he proceeded, in his bad French, "that I have found a photographic +apparatus on hire. We are ready now for the appearance of our +interesting Danish guest." + +"And when the man comes," Lord Harry added, "what am I to say to my +wife? How am I to find an excuse, when she hears of a hospital patient +who has taken possession of your bed-room at the cottage--and has done +it with my permission, and with you to attend on him?" + +The doctor sipped his coffee. "We have told a story that has satisfied +the authorities," he said coolly. "Repeat the story to your wife." + +"She won't believe it," Lord Harry replied. + +Mr. Vimpany waited until he had lit another cigar, and had quite +satisfied himself that it was worth smoking. + +"You have yourself to thank for that obstacle," he resumed. "If you had +taken my advice, your wife would have been out of our way by this time. +I suppose I must manage it. If you fail, leave her ladyship to me. In +the meanwhile, there's a matter of more importance to settle first. We +shall want a nurse for our poor dear invalid. Where are we to find +her?" + +As he stated that difficulty, he finished his coffee, and looked about +him for the bottle of brandy which always stood on the dinner-table. In +doing this, he happened to notice Fanny. Convinced that her mistress +was in danger, after what she had already heard, the maid's anxiety and +alarm had so completely absorbed her that she had forgotten to play her +part. Instead of still busying herself at the sideboard, she stood with +her back to it, palpably listening. Cunning Mr. Vimpany, possessing +himself of the brandy, made a request too entirely appropriate to +excite suspicion. + +"Some fresh cold water, if you please," was all that he said. + +The moment that Fanny left the room, the doctor addressed his friend in +English, with his eye on the door: "News for you, my boy! We are in a +pretty pickle--Lady Harry's maid understands French." + +"Quite impossible," Lord Harry declared. + +"We will put that to the test," Mr. Vimpany answered. "Watch her when +she comes in again." + +"What are you going to do." + +"I am going to insult her in French. Observe the result." + +In another minute Fanny returned with the fresh water. As she placed +the glass jug before Mr. Vimpany he suddenly laid his hand on her arm +and looked her straight in the face. "Vous nous avez mis dedans, +drolesse!"* he said. + +*In English: "You have taken us in, you jade!" + +An uncontrollable look of mingled rage and fear made its plain +confession in Fanny's face. She had been discovered; she had heard +herself called "drolesse;" she stood before the two men self-condemned. +Her angry master threatened her with instant dismissal from the house. +The doctor interfered. + +"No, no," he said; "you mustn't deprive Lady Harry, at a moment's +notice, of her maid. Such a clever maid, too," he added with his +rascally smile. "An accomplished person, who understands French, and is +too modest to own it!" + +The doctor had led Fanny through many a weary and unrewarded walk when +she had followed him to the hospitals; he had now inflicted a +deliberate insult by calling her "drolesse" and he had completed the +sum of his offences by talking contemptuously of her modesty and her +mastery of the French language. The woman's detestation of him, which +under ordinary circumstances she might have attempted to conceal, was +urged into audaciously asserting itself by the strong excitement that +now possessed her. Driven to bay, Fanny had made up her mind to +discover the conspiracy of which Mr. Vimpany was the animating spirit, +by a method daring enough to be worthy of the doctor himself. + +"My knowledge of French has told me something," she said. "I have just +heard, Mr. Vimpany, that you want a nurse for your invalid gentleman. +With my lord's permission, suppose you try Me?" + +Fanny's audacity was more than her master's patience could endure. He +ordered her to leave the room. + +The peace-making doctor interfered again: "My dear lord, let me beg you +will not be too hard on the young woman." He turned to Fanny, with an +effort to look indulgent, which ended in the reappearance of his +rascally smile. "Thank you, my dear, for your proposal," he said; "I +will let you know if we accept it, to-morrow." + +Fanny's unforgiving master pointed to the door; she thanked Mr. +Vimpany, and went out. Lord Harry eyed his friend in angry amazement. +"Are you mad?" he asked. + +"Tell me something first," the doctor rejoined. "Is there any English +blood in your family?" + +Lord Harry answered with a burst of patriotic feeling: "I regret to say +my family is adulterated in that manner. My grandmother was an +Englishwoman." + +Mr. Vimpany received this extract from the page of family history with +a coolness all his own. + +"It's a relief to hear that," he said. "You may be capable (by the +grandmother's side) of swallowing a dose of sound English sense. I can +but try, at any rate. That woman is too bold and too clever to be +treated like an ordinary servant--I incline to believe that she is a +spy in the employment of your wife. Whether I am right or wrong in this +latter case, the one way I can see of paring the cat's claws is to turn +her into a nurse. Do you find me mad now?" + +"Madder than ever!" + +"Ah, you don't take after your grandmother! Now listen to me. Do we run +the smallest risk, if Fanny finds it her interest to betray us? Suppose +we ask ourselves what she has really found out. She knows we have got a +sick man from a hospital coming here--does she know what we want him +for? Not she! Neither you nor I said a word on that subject. But she +also heard us agree that your wife was in our way. What does that +matter? Did she hear us say what it is that we don't want your wife to +discover? Not she, I tell you again! Very well, then--if Fanny acts as +Oxbye's nurse, shy as the young woman may be, she innocently associates +herself with the end that we have to gain by the Danish gentleman's +death! Oh, you needn't look alarmed! I mean his natural death by lung +disease--no crime, my noble friend! no crime!" + +The Irish lord, sitting near the doctor, drew his chair back in a +hurry. + +"If there's English blood in my family," he declared, "I'll tell you +what, Vimpany, there's devil's blood in yours!" + +"Anything you like but Irish blood," the cool scoundrel rejoined. + +As he made that insolent reply, Fanny came in again, with a sufficient +excuse for her reappearance. She announced that a person from the +hospital wished to speak to the English doctor. + +The messenger proved to be a young man employed in the secretary's +office. Oxbye still persisting in his desire to be placed under Mr. +Vimpany's care; one last responsibility rested on the official +gentlemen now in charge of him. They could implicitly trust the medical +assistance and the gracious hospitality offered to the poor Danish +patient; but, before he left them, they must also be satisfied that he +would be attended by a competent nurse. If the person whom Mr. Vimpany +proposed to employ in this capacity could be brought to the hospital, +it would be esteemed a favour; and, if her account of herself satisfied +the physician in charge of Oxbye's case, the Dane might be removed to +his new quarters on the same day. + +The next morning witnessed the first in a series of domestic incidents +at the cottage, which no prophetic ingenuity could have foreseen. Mr. +Vimpany and Fanny Mere actually left Passy together, on their way to +Paris! + +CHAPTER XLIII + +FICTION: ATTEMPTED BY MY LORD + +THE day on which the doctor took his newly-appointed nurse with him to +the hospital became an occasion associated with distressing +recollections in the memory of Iris. + +In the morning, Fanny Mere had asked for leave to go out. For some time +past this request had been so frequently granted, with such poor +results so far as the maid's own designs were concerned, that Lady +Harry decided on administering a tacit reproof, by means of a refusal. +Fanny made no attempt at remonstrance; she left the room in silence. + +Half an hour later, Iris had occasion to ring for her attendant. The +bell was answered by the cook--who announced, in explanation of her +appearance, that Fanny Mere had gone out. More distressed than +displeased by this reckless disregard of her authority, on the part of +a woman who had hitherto expressed the most grateful sense of her +kindness, Iris only said: "Send Fanny to me as soon as she comes back." + +Two hours passed before the truant maid returned. + +"I refused to let you go out this morning," Lady Harry said; "and you +have taken the liberty of leaving the house for two hours. You might +have made me understand, in a more becoming manner, that you intended +to leave my service." + +Steadily respectful, Fanny answered: "I don't wish to leave your +ladyship's service." + +"Then what does your conduct mean?" + +"It means, if you please, that I had a duty to do--and did it." + +"A duty to yourself?" Iris asked. + +"No, my lady; a duty to you." + +As she made that strange reply the door was opened, and Lord Harry +entered the room. When he saw Fanny Mere he turned away again, in a +hurry, to go out. "I didn't know your maid was with you," he said. +"Another time will do." + +His permitting a servant to be an obstacle in his way, when he wished +to speak to his wife, was a concession so entirely unbecoming in the +master of the house, and so strangely contrary to his customary sense +of what was due to himself, that Iris called him back in astonishment. +She looked at her maid, who at once understood her, and withdrew. "What +can you possibly be thinking of?" she said to her husband, when they +were alone. Putting that question, she noticed an embarrassment in his +manner, and an appearance of confusion in his face, which alarmed her. +"Has something happened?" she asked; "and is it so serious that you +hesitate to mention it to me?" + +He sat down by her and took her hand. The loving look in his eyes, +which she knew so well, was not in them now; they expressed doubt, and +something with it which suggested an effort at conciliation. + +"I am fearing I shall surprise you," he said. + +"Don't keep me in suspense!" she returned. "What is it?" + +He smiled uneasily: "It's something about Vimpany." + +Having got as far as that, he stopped. She drew her hand away from him. +"I understand now," she said; "I must endeavour to control myself--you +have something to tell me which will try my temper." + +He held up his hands in humorous protest: "Ah, my darling, here's your +vivid imagination again, making mountains out of molehills, as they +say! It's nothing half so serious as you seem to think; I have only to +tell you of a little change." + +"A little change?" she repeated. "What change?" + +"Well, my dear, you see--" He hesitated and recovered himself. "I mean, +you must know that Vimpany's plans are altered. He won't any longer +occupy his bedroom in the cottage here." + +Iris looked inexpressibly relieved. "Going away, at last!" she +exclaimed. "Oh, Harry, if you have been mystifying me, I hope you will +never do it again. It isn't like you; it's cruel to alarm me about +nothing. Mr. Vimpany's empty bedroom will be the most interesting room +in the house, when I look into it to-night." + +Lord Harry got up, and walked to the window. As a sign of trouble in +his mind, and of an instinctive effort to relieve it, the object of +this movement was well-known to Iris. She followed him and stood by his +side. It was now plain to her that there was something more to be +told--and that he was hesitating how to confide it to his wife. + +"Go on," she said resignedly. + +He had expected her to take his arm, or perhaps to caress him, or at +least to encourage him by her gentlest words and her prettiest smiles. +The steady self-restraint which she now manifested was a sign, as he +interpreted it, of suppressed resentment. Shrinking, honestly +shrinking, from the bare possibility of another quarrel, he confronted +the hard necessities of further confession. + +"Well, now," he said, "it's only this--you mustn't look into the empty +bedroom to-night." + +"Why not?" + +"Ah, for the best of all good reasons! Because you might find somebody +in there." + +This reply excited her curiosity: her eyes rested on him eagerly. "Some +friend of yours?" she asked. + +He persisted in an assumption of good-humour, which betrayed itself as +mere artifice in the clumsiest manner: "I declare I feel as if I were +in a court of justice, being cross-examined by a lawyer of skill and +dexterity! Well, my sweet counsellor, no--not exactly a friend of +mine." + +She reflected for a moment. "You don't surely mean one of Mr. Vimpany's +friends?" she said. + +He pretended not to have heard her, and pointed to the view of the +garden from the window. "Isn't it a lovely day? Let's go and look at +the flowers," he suggested. + +"Did you not hear what I said to you just now?" she persisted. + +"I beg your pardon, dear; I was thinking of something else. Suppose we +go into the garden?" + +When women have a point to gain in which they are interested, how many +of them are capable of deferring it to a better opportunity? One in a +thousand, perhaps. Iris kept her place at the window, resolved on +getting an answer. + +"I asked you, Harry, whether the person who is to occupy our spare +bedroom, to-night, was one of Mr. Vimpany's friends?" + +"Say one of Mr. Vimpany's patients--and you will be nearer the truth," +he answered, with an outburst of impatience. + +She could hardly believe him. "Do you mean a person who is really ill?" +she said. + +"Of course I mean it," he said; irritated into speaking out, at last. + +"A man? or a woman?" + +"A man." + +"May I ask if he comes from England?" + +"He comes from one of the French hospitals. Anything more?" + +Iris left her husband to recover his good-humour, and went back to her +chair. The extraordinary disclosure which she had extracted from him +had produced a stupefying effect on her mind. Her customary sympathy +with him, her subtle womanly observation of his character, her intimate +knowledge of his merits and his defects, failed to find the rational +motive which might have explained his conduct. She looked round at him +with mingled feelings of perplexity and distrust. + +He was still at the window, but he had turned his back on the view of +the garden; his eyes were fixed, in furtive expectation, on his wife. +Was he waiting to hear her say something more? She ran the risk and +said it. + +"I don't quite understand the sacrifice you seem to be making to Mr. +Vimpany," she confessed. "Will you tell me, dear, what it means?" + +Here was the opportunity offered of following the doctor's advice, and +putting his wife's credulity to the test. With her knowledge of +Vimpany, would she really believe the story which had imposed on the +strangers who managed the hospital? Lord Harry made up his mind, to try +the experiment. No matter what the result might be, it would bring the +responsibilities that were crushing him to an end. He need say no more, +if the deception succeeded. He could do no more, if it failed. Under +the influence of this cheering reflection, he recovered his temper; his +handsome face brightened again with its genial boyish smile. + +"What a wonderful woman you are!" he cried. "Isn't it just the thing +that I am here for, to tell you what I mean--and my clever wife sees +through and through me, and reminds me of what I must do! Pay my fee +beforehand, Iris! Give me a kiss--and my poor meaning shall be offered +in return. It will help me if you remember one thing. Vimpany and I are +old friends, and there's nothing we won't do to accommodate each other. +Mind that!" + +Tried fairly on its own merits, the stupid fiction invented by the +doctor produced an effect for which Lord Harry was not prepared. The +longer Iris listened, the more strangely Iris looked at him. Not a word +fell from her lips when he had done. He noticed that she had turned +pale: it seemed to be almost possible that he had frightened her! + +If his bird-witted brains could have coupled cause and effect, this was +exactly the result which he might have anticipated. + +She was asked to believe that a new system of medical practice had been +invented by such a person as Mr. Vimpany. She was asked to believe that +an invalid from a foreign hospital, who was a perfect stranger to Lord +Harry, had been willingly made welcome to a bedroom at the cottage. She +was asked to believe that this astounding concession had been offered +to the doctor as a tribute of friendship, after her husband had himself +told her that he regretted having invited Vimpany, for the second time, +to become his guest. Here was one improbable circumstance accumulated +on another, and a clever woman was expected to accept the monstrous +excuses, thus produced, as a trustworthy statement of facts. +Irresistibly, the dread of some evil deed in secret contemplation cast +its darkening presence on the wife's mind. Lord Harry's observation had +not misled him, when he saw Iris turn pale, and when the doubt was +forced on him whether he might not have frightened her. + +"If my explanation of this little matter has satisfied you," he +ventured to resume, "we need say no more about it." + +"I agree with you," she answered, "let us say no more about it." +Conscious, in spite of the effort to resist it, of a feeling of +oppression while she was in the same room with a man who had +deliberately lied to her, and that man her husband, she reminded Lord +Harry that he had proposed to take a walk in the garden. Out in the +pure air, under the bright sky, she might breathe more freely. "Come to +the flowers," she said. + +They went to the garden together--the wife fearing the deceitful +husband, the husband fearing the quick-witted wife. + +Watching each other like two strangers, they walked silently side by +side, and looked now and then at the collection of flowers and plants. +Iris noticed a delicate fern which had fallen away from the support to +which it had been attached. She stopped, and occupied herself in +restoring it to its place. When she looked round again, after attending +to the plant, her husband had disappeared, and Mr. Vimpany was waiting +in his place. + +CHAPTER XLIV + +FICTION: IMPROVED BY THE DOCTOR + +"WHERE is Lord Harry?" Iris asked. + +The reply startled her: "Lord Harry leaves me to say to your ladyship, +what he has not had resolution enough to say for himself." + +"I don't understand you, Mr. Vimpany." + +The doctor pointed to the fern which had just been the object of Lady +Harry's care. + +"You have been helping that sickly plant there to live and thrive," he +said, "and I have felt some curiosity in watching you. There is another +sickly plant, which I have undertaken to rear if the thing can be done. +My gardening is of the medical kind--I can only carry it on +indoors--and whatever else it may be, I tell you plainly, like the +outspoken sort of fellow I am, it's not likely to prove agreeable to a +lady. No offence, I hope? Your humble servant is only trying to produce +the right sort of impression--and takes leave to doubt his lordship in +one particular." + +"In what particular, sir?" + +"I'll put it in the form of a question, ma'am. Has my friend persuaded +you to make arrangements for leaving the cottage?" + +Iris looked at Lord Harry's friend without attempting to conceal her +opinion of him. + +"I call that an impertinent question," she said. "By what right do you +presume to inquire into what my husband and I may, or may not, have +said to each other?" + +"Will you do me a favour, my lady? Or, if that is asking too much, +perhaps you will not object to do justice to yourself. Suppose you try +to exercise the virtue of self-control? + +"Quite needless, Mr. Vimpany. Pray understand that you are not capable +of making me angry." + +"Many thanks, Lady Harry: you encourage me to go on. When I was bold +enough to speak of your leaving the cottage, my motive was to prevent +you from being needlessly alarmed." + +Did this mean that he was about to take her into his confidence? All +her experience of him forbade her to believe it possible. But the +doubts and fears occasioned by her interview with her husband had +mastered her better sense; and the effort to conceal from the doctor +the anxiety under which she suffered was steadily weakening the +influence of her self-respect. "Why should I be alarmed?" she asked, in +the vain hope of encouraging him to tell the truth. + +The doctor arrived at a hasty conclusion, on his side. Believing that +he had shaken her resolution, he no longer troubled himself to assume +the forms of politeness which he had hitherto, with some difficulty, +contrived to observe. + +"In this curious little world of ours," he resumed, "we enjoy our lives +on infernally hard terms. We live on condition that we die. The man I +want to cure may die, in spite of the best I can do for him---he may +sink slowly, by what we medical men call a hard death. For example, it +wouldn't much surprise me if I found some difficulty in keeping him in +his bed. He might roam all over your cottage when my back was turned. +Or he might pay the debt of Nature--as somebody calls it--with +screaming and swearing. If you were within hearing of him, I'm afraid +you might be terrified, and, with the best wish to be useful, I +couldn't guarantee (if the worst happened) to keep him quiet. In your +place, if you will allow me to advise you--" + +Iris interrupted him. Instead of confessing the truth, he was +impudently attempting to frighten her. "I don't allow a person in whom +I have no confidence to advise me," she said; "I wish to hear no more." + +Mr. Vimpany found it desirable to resume the forms of politeness. +Either he had failed to shake her resolution, or she was sufficiently +in possession of herself to conceal what she felt. + +"One last word!" he said. "I won't presume to advise your ladyship; I +will merely offer a suggestion. My lord tells me that Hugh Mountjoy is +on the way to recovery. You are in communication with him by letter, as +I happened to notice when I did you that trifling service of providing +a postage-stamp. Why not go to London and cheer your convalescent +friend? Harry won't mind it--I beg your pardon, I ought to have said +Lord Harry. Come! come! my dear lady; I am a rough fellow, but I mean +well. Take a holiday, and come back to us when my lord writes to say +that he can have the pleasure of receiving you again." He waited for a +moment. "Am I not to be favoured with an answer?" he asked. + +"My husband shall answer you." + +With those parting words, Iris turned her back on him. + +She entered the cottage. Now in one room, and now in another, she +searched for Lord Harry; he was nowhere to be found. Had he purposely +gone out to avoid her? Her own remembrance of Vimpany's language and +Vimpany's manner told her that so it must be--the two men were in +league together. Of all dangers, unknown danger is the most terrible to +contemplate. Lady Harry's last resources of resolution failed her. She +dropped helplessly into a chair. + +After an interval--whether it was a long or a short lapse of time she +was unable to decide--someone gently opened the door. Had her husband +felt for her? Had he returned? "Come in! she cried eagerly--" come in! + +CHAPTER XLV + +FACT: RELATED BY FANNY + +THE person who now entered the room was Fanny Mere. + +But one interest was stirring in the mind of Iris now. "Do you know +where your master is?" she asked. + +"I saw him go out," the maid replied. "Which way I didn't particularly +notice--" She was on the point of adding, "and I didn't particularly +care," when she checked herself. "Yesterday and to-day, my lady, things +have come to my knowledge which I must not keep to myself," the +resolute woman continued. "If a servant may say such a thing without +offence, I have never been so truly my mistress's friend as I am now. I +beg you to forgive my boldness; there is a reason for it." + +So she spoke, with no presumption in her looks, with no familiarity in +her manner. The eyes of her friendless mistress filled with tears, the +offered hand of her friendless mistress answered in silence. Fanny took +that kind hand, and pressed it respectfully--a more demonstrative woman +than herself might perhaps have kissed it. She only said, "Thank you, +my lady," and went on with what she felt it her duty to relate. + +As carefully as usual, as quietly as usual, she repeated the +conversation, at Lord Harry's table; describing also the manner in +which Mr. Vimpany had discovered her as a person who understood the +French language, and who had cunningly kept it a secret. In this +serious state of things, the doctor--yes, the doctor himself!--had +interfered to protect her from the anger of her master, and, more +wonderful still, for a reason which it seemed impossible to dispute. He +wanted a nurse for the foreigner whose arrival was expected on that +evening, and he had offered the place to Fanny. "Your ladyship will, I +hope, excuse me; I have taken the place." + +This amazing end to the strange events which had just been narrated +proved to be more than Iris was immediately capable of understanding. +"I am in the dark," she confessed. "Is Mr. Vimpany a bolder villain +even than I have supposed him to be?" + +"That he most certainly is!" Fanny said with strong conviction. "As to +what he really had in his wicked head when he engaged me, I shall find +that out in time. Anyway, I am the nurse who is to help him. When I +disobeyed you this morning, my lady, it was to go to the hospital with +Mr. Vimpany. I was taken to see the person whose nurse I am to be. A +poor, feeble, polite creature, who looked as if he couldn't hurt a +fly---and yet I promise you he startled me! I saw a likeness, the +moment I looked at him." + +"A likeness to anybody whom I know?" Iris asked. + +"To the person in all the world, my lady, whom you know most nearly--a +likeness to my master." + +"What!" + +"Oh, it's no fancy; I am sure of what I say. To my mind, that Danish +man's likeness to my lord is (if you will excuse my language) a nasty +circumstance. I don't know why or wherefore--all I can say is, I don't +like it; and I shan't rest until I have found out what it means. +Besides this, my lady, I must know the reason why they want to get you +out of their way. Please to keep up your heart; I shall warn you in +time, when I am sure of the danger." + +Iris refused to sanction the risk involved in this desperate design. +"It's _you_ who will be in danger!" she exclaimed. + +In her coolest state of obstinacy, Fanny answered: "That's in your +ladyship's service--and that doesn't reckon." + +Feeling gratefully this simple and sincere expression of attachment, +Iris held to her own opinion, nevertheless. + +"You are in my service," she said; "I won't let you go to Mr. Vimpany. +Give it up, Fanny! Give it up!" + +"I'll give it up, my lady, when I know what the doctor means to do--not +before." + +The assertion of authority having failed, Iris tried persuasion next. + +"As your mistress, it is my duty to set you an example," she resumed. +"One of us must be considerate and gentle in a dispute--let me try to +be that one. There can be no harm, and there may be some good, in +consulting the opinion of a friend; some person in whose discretion we +can trust." + +"Am I acquainted with the person your ladyship is thinking of?" Fanny +inquired. "In that case, a friend will know what we want of her by +to-morrow morning. I have written to Mrs. Vimpany." + +"The very person I had in my mind, Fanny! When may we expect to hear +from her?" + +"If Mrs. Vimpany can put what she has to say to us into few words," +Fanny replied, "we shall hear from her to-morrow by telegraph." + +As she answered her mistress in those cheering words, they were +startled by a heavy knock at the door of the room. Under similar +circumstances, Lord Harry's delicate hand would have been just loud +enough to be heard, and no more. Iris called out suspiciously: "Who's +there?" + +The doctor's gross voice answered: "Can I say a word, if you please, to +Fanny Mere?" + +The maid opened the door. Mr. Vimpany's heavy hand laid bold of her +arm, pulled her over the threshold, and closed the door behind her. +After a brief absence, Fanny returned with news of my lord. + +A commissioner had arrived with a message for the doctor; and Fanny was +charged to repeat it or not, just as she thought right under the +circumstances. Lord Harry was in Paris. He had been invited to go to +the theatre with some friends, and to return with them to supper. If he +was late in getting home, he was anxious that my lady should not be +made uneasy. After having authorised Mr. Vimpany's interference in the +garden, the husband evidently had his motives for avoiding another +interview with the wife. Iris was left alone, to think over that +discovery. Fanny had received orders to prepare the bedroom for the +doctor's patient. + +CHAPTER XLVI + +MAN AND WIFE + +TOWARDS evening, the Dane was brought to the cottage. + +A feeling of pride which forbade any display of curiosity, strengthened +perhaps by an irresistible horror of Vimpany, kept Iris in her room. +Nothing but the sound of footsteps, outside, told her when the +suffering man was taken to his bed-chamber on the same floor. She was, +afterwards informed by Fanny that the doctor turned down the lamp in +the corridor, before the patient was helped to ascend the stairs, as a +means of preventing the mistress of the house from plainly seeing the +stranger's face, and recognising the living likeness of her husband. + +The hours advanced--the bustle of domestic life sank into +silence--everybody but Iris rested quietly in bed. + +Through the wakeful night the sense of her situation oppressed her +sinking spirits. Mysteries that vaguely threatened danger made their +presence felt, and took their dark way through her thoughts. The +cottage, in which the first happy days of her marriage had been passed, +might ere long be the scene of some evil deed, provoking the lifelong +separation of her husband and herself! Were these the exaggerated fears +of a woman in a state of hysterical suspicion? It was enough for Iris +to remember that Lord Harry and Mr. Vimpany had been alike incapable of +telling her the truth. The first had tried to deceive her; the second +had done his best to frighten her. Why? If there was really nothing to +be afraid of--why? The hours of the early morning came; and still she +listened in vain for the sound of my lord's footstep on the stairs; +still she failed to hear the cautious opening of his dressing-room +door. Leaving her chair, Iris rested on the bed. As time advanced, +exhaustion mastered her; she slept. + +Awakening at a late hour, she rang for Fanny Mere. The master had just +returned. He had missed the latest night-train to Passy; and, rather +than waste money on hiring a carriage at that hour, he had accepted the +offer of a bed at the house of his friends. He was then below stairs, +hoping to see Lady Harry at breakfast. + +His wife joined him. + +Not even at the time of the honeymoon had the Irish lord been a more +irresistibly agreeable man than he was on that memorable morning. His +apologies for having failed to return at the right time were little +masterpieces of grace and gaiety. The next best thing to having been +present, at the theatrical performance of the previous night, was to +hear his satirical summary of the story of the play, contrasting +delightfully with his critical approval of the fine art of the actors. +The time had been when Iris would have resented such merciless trifling +with serious interests as this. In these earlier and better days, she +would have reminded him affectionately of her claim to be received into +his confidence--she would have tried all that tact and gentleness and +patience could do to win his confession of the ascendency exercised +over him by his vile friend--and she would have used the utmost +influence of her love and her resolution to disunite the fatal +fellowship which was leading him to his ruin. + +But Iris Henley was Lady Harry now. + +She was sinking--as Mrs. Vimpany had feared, as Mountjoy had +foreseen--lower and lower on the descent to her husband's level. With a +false appearance of interest in what he was saying she waited for her +chance of matching him with his own weapons of audacious deceit. He +ignorantly offered her the opportunity--setting the same snare to catch +his wife, which she herself had it in contemplation to use for +entrapping her husband into a confession of the truth. + +"Ah, well--I have said more than enough of my last night's amusement," +he confessed. "It's your turn now, my dear. Have you had a look at the +poor fellow whom the doctor is going to cure?" he asked abruptly; eager +to discover whether she had noticed the likeness between Oxbye and +himself. + +Her eyes rested on him attentively. "I have not yet seen the person you +allude to," she answered. "Is Mr. Vimpany hopeful of his recovery?" + +He took out his case, and busied himself in choosing a cigar. In the +course of his adventurous life, he had gained some knowledge of the +effect of his own impetuous temper on others, and of difficulties which +he had experienced when circumstances rendered it necessary to keep his +face in a state of discipline. + +"Oh, there's no reason for anxiety!" he said, with an over-acted +interest in examining his cigar. "Mr. Oxbye is in good hands." + +"People do sometimes sink under an illness," she quietly remarked. + +Without making any reply he took out his matchbox. His hand trembled a +little; he failed at the first attempt to strike a light. + +"And doctors sometimes make mistakes," Iris went on. + +He was still silent. At the second attempt, he succeeded with the +match, and lit his cigar. + +"Suppose Mr. Vimpany made a mistake," she persisted. "In the case of +this stranger, it might lead to deplorable results." + +Lord Harry lost his temper, and with it his colour. + +"What the devil do you mean?" he cried. + +"I might ask, in my turn," she said, "what have I done to provoke an +outbreak of temper? I only made a remark." + +At that critical moment, Fanny Mere entered the room with a telegram in +her hand. + +"For you, my lady." + +Iris opened the telegram. The message was signed by Mrs. Vimpany, and +was expressed in these words: "You may feel it your duty to go to your +father. He is dangerously ill." + +Lord Harry saw a sudden change in his wife's face that roused his +guilty suspicions. "Is it anything about me?" he asked. + +Iris handed the telegram to him in silence. Having looked at it, he +desired to hear what her wishes were. + +"The telegram expresses my wishes," she said. "Have you any objection +to my leaving you?" + +"None whatever," he answered eagerly. "Go, by all means." + +If it had still been possible for her to hesitate, that reply would +have put an end to all further doubt. She turned away to leave the +room. He followed her to the door. + +"I hope you don't think there is any want of sympathy on my part," he +said. "You are quite right to go to your father. That was all I meant." +He was agitated, honestly agitated, while he spoke. Iris saw it, and +felt it gratefully. She was on the point of making a last appeal to his +confidence, when he opened the door for her. "Don't let me detain you," +he said. His voice faltered; he suddenly turned aside before she could +look at him. + +Fanny was waiting in the hall, eager to see the telegram. She read it +twice and reflected for a moment. "How often do things fit themselves +to one's wishes in this convenient way?" she asked herself. "It's +lucky," she privately decided--"almost too lucky. Let me pack up your +things," she continued, addressing her mistress, "while I have some +time to myself. Mr. Oxbye is asleep." + +As the day wore on, the noble influences in the nature of Iris, failing +fast, yet still at rare intervals struggling to assert themselves, +inspired her with the resolution to make a last attempt to give her +husband an opportunity of trusting her. He was not in his room, not in +any other part of the house, not in the garden. The hours passed--she +was left to eat her dinner in solitude. For the second time, he was +avoiding her. For the second time, he distrusted the influence of his +wife. With a heavy heart she prepared for her departure by the +night-mail. + +The duties of the new nurse kept her in the cottage. Filled with alarm +for the faithful creature whom she was leaving--to what fate, who could +say?--Iris kissed her at parting. + +Fanny's faint blue eyes filled with tears. She dashed them away, and +held her mistress for an instant in her arms. "I know whom you are +thinking of," she whispered. "He is not here to bid you good-bye. Let +me see what I can find in his room." Iris had already looked round the +room, in the vain hope of finding a letter. Fanny rushed up the stairs, +determined on a last search--and ran down again with a folded morsel of +flimsy foreign notepaper in her hand. "My ugly eyes are quicker than +yours," she said. "The air must have come in at the window and blown it +off the table." Iris eagerly read the letter: + +"I dare not deny that you will be better away from us, but only for a +while. Forgive me, dearest; I cannot find the courage to say good-bye." +Those few words spoke for him--and no more. + +Briefly on her side, but not unkindly, his wife answered him: + +"You have spared me a bitter moment. May I hope to find the man whom I +have trusted and honoured, when I come back? Good-bye." + +When were they to meet again? And how? + +CHAPTER XLVII + +THE PATIENT AND MY LORD + +THERE now remained but one other person in Lord Harry's household whose +presence on the scene was an obstacle to be removed. + +This person was the cook. On condition of her immediate departure +(excused by alleged motives of economy), she received a month's wages +from her master, in advance of the sum due to her, and a written +character which did ample justice to her many good qualities. The poor +woman left her employment with the heartiest expressions of gratitude. +To the end of her days, she declared the Irish lord to be a nobleman by +nature. Republican principles, inherited from her excellent parents, +disinclined her to recognise him as a nobleman by birth. + +But another sweet and simple creature was still left to brighten the +sinister gloom in the cottage. + +The geod Dane sorely tried the patience of Fanny Mere. This countryman +of Hamlet, as he liked to call himself, was a living protest against +the sentiments of inveterate contempt and hatred, with which his nurse +was accustomed to regard the men. When pain spared him at intervals, +Mr. Oxbye presented the bright blue eyes and the winning smile which +suggested the resemblance to the Irish lord. His beardless face, thin +towards the lower extremities, completed the likeness in some degree +only. The daring expression of Lord Harry, in certain emergencies, +never appeared. Nursing him carefully, on the severest principles of +duty as distinguished from inclination, Fanny found herself in the +presence of a male human being, who in the painless intervals of his +malady, wrote little poems in her praise; asked for a few flowers from +the garden, and made prettily arranged nosegays of them devoted to +herself; cried, when she told him he was a fool, and kissed her hand +five minutes afterwards, when she administered his medicine, and gave +him no pleasant sweet thing to take the disagreeable taste out of his +mouth. This gentle patient loved Lord Harry, loved Mr. Vimpany, loved +the furious Fanny, resist it as she might. On her obstinate refusal to +confide to him the story of her life--after he had himself set her the +example at great length--he persisted in discovering for himself that +"this interesting woman was a victim of sorrows of the heart." In +another state of existence, he was offensively certain that she would +be living with _him._ "You are frightfully pale, you will soon die; I +shall break a blood-vessel, and follow you; we shall sit side by side +on clouds, and sing together everlastingly to accompaniment of +celestial harps. Oh, what a treat!" Like a child, he screamed when he +was in pain; and, like a child, he laughed when the pain had gone away. +When she was angry enough with him to say, "If I had known what sort of +man you were, I would never have undertaken to nurse you," he only +answered, "my dear, let us thank God together that you did not know." +There was no temper in him to be roused; and, worse still, on buoyant +days, when his spirits were lively, there was no persuading him that he +might not live long enough to marry his nurse, if he only put the +question to her often enough. What was to be done with such a man as +this? Fanny believed that she despised her feeble patient. At the same +time, the food that nourished him was prepared by her own hands--while +the other inhabitants of the cottage were left (in the absence of the +cook) to the tough mercies of a neighbouring restaurant. First and +foremost among the many good deeds by which the conduct of women claims +the gratitude of the other sex, is surely the manner in which they let +an unfortunate man master them, without an unworthy suspicion of that +circumstance to trouble the charitable serenity of their minds. + +Carefully on the look-out for any discoveries which might enlighten +her, Fanny noticed with ever-increasing interest the effect which the +harmless Dane seemed to produce on my lord and the doctor. + +Every morning, after breakfast, Lord Harry presented himself in the +bedroom. Every morning, his courteous interest in his guest expressed +itself mechanically in the same form of words: + +"Mr. Oxbye, how do you find yourself to-day?" + +Sometimes the answer would be: "Gracious lord, I am suffering pain." +Sometimes it was: "Dear and admirable patron, I feel as if I might get +well again." On either occasion, Lord Harry listened without looking at +Mr. Oxbye--said he was sorry to hear a bad account or glad to hear a +good account, without looking at Mr. Oxbye--made a remark on the +weather, and took his leave, without looking at Mr. Oxbye. Nothing +could be more plain than that his polite inquiries (once a day) were +unwillingly made, and that it was always a relief to him to get out of +the room. So strongly was Fanny's curiosity excited by this strange +behaviour, that she ventured one day to speak to her master. + +"I am afraid, my lord, you are not hopeful of Mr. Oxeye's recovering?" + +"Mind your own business," was the savage answer that she received. + +Fanny never again took the liberty of speaking to him; but she watched +him more closely than ever. He was perpetually restless. Now he +wandered from one room to another, and walked round and round the +garden, smoking incessantly. Now he went out riding, or took the +railway to Paris and disappeared for the day. On the rare occasions +when he was in a state of repose, he always appeared to have taken +refuge in his wife's room; Fanny's keyhole-observation discovered him, +thinking miserably, seated in his wife's chair. It seemed to be +possible that he was fretting after Lady Harry. But what did his +conduct to Mr. Oxbye mean? What was the motive which made him persist, +without an attempt at concealment, in keeping out of Mr. Vimpany's way? +And, treated in this rude manner, how was it that his wicked friend +seemed to be always amused, never offended? + +As for the doctor's behaviour to his patient, it was, in Fanny's +estimation, worthy of a savage. + +He appeared to feel no sort of interest in the man who had been sent to +him from the hospital at his own request, and whose malady it was +supposed to be the height of his ambition to cure. When Mr. Oxbye +described his symptoms, Mr. Vimpany hardly even made a pretence at +listening. With a frowning face he applied the stethoscope, felt the +pulse, looked at the tongue--and drew his own conclusions in sullen +silence. If the nurse had a favourable report to make, he brutally +turned his back on her. If discouraging results of the medical +treatment made their appearance at night, and she felt it a duty to +mention them, he sneered as if he doubted whether she was speaking the +truth. Mr. Oxbye's inexhaustible patience and amiability made endless +allowances for his medical advisor. "It is my misfortune to keep my +devoted doctor in a state of perpetual anxiety," he used to say; "and +we all know what a trial to the temper is the consequence of unrelieved +suspense. I believe in Mr. Vimpany." Fanny was careful not to betray +her own opinion by making any reply; her doubts of the doctor had, by +this time, become terrifying doubts even to herself. Whenever an +opportunity favoured her, she vigilantly watched him. One of his ways +of finding amusement, in his leisure hours, was in the use of a +photographic apparatus. He took little pictures of the rooms in the +cottage, which were followed by views in the garden. Those having come +to an end, he completed the mystification of the nurse by producing a +portrait of the Dane, while he lay asleep one day after he had been +improving in health for some little time past. Fanny asked leave to +look at the likeness when it had been "printed" from the negative, in +the garden. He first examined it himself--and then deliberately tore it +up and let the fragments fly away in the wind. "I am not satisfied with +it," was all the explanation he offered. One of the garden chairs +happened to be near him; he sat down, and looked like a man in a state +of torment under his own angry thoughts. + +If the patient's health had altered for the worse, and if the tendency +to relapse had proved to be noticeable after medicine had been +administered, Fanny's first suspicions might have taken a very serious +turn. But the change in Oxbye--sleeping in purer air and sustained by +better food than he could obtain at the hospital--pointed more and more +visibly to a decided gain of vital strength. His hollow checks were +filling out, and colour was beginning to appear again on the pallor of +his skin. Strange as the conduct of Lord Harry and Mr. Vimpany might +be, there was no possibility, thus far, of connecting it with the +position occupied by the Danish guest. Nobody who had seen his face, +when he was first brought to the cottage, could have looked at him +again, after the lapse of a fortnight, and have failed to discover the +signs which promise recovery of health. + +CHAPTER XLVIII + +"THE MISTRESS AND THE MAID" + +IN the correspondence secretly carried on between the mistress in +London and the maid at Passy, it was Fanny Mere's turn to write next. +She decided on delaying her reply until she had once more given careful +consideration to the first letter received from Lady Harry, announcing +her arrival in England, and a strange discovery that had attended it. + +Before leaving Paris, Iris had telegraphed instructions to Mrs. Vimpany +to meet her at the terminus in London. Her first inquiries were for her +father. The answer given, with an appearance of confusion and even of +shame, was that there was no need to feel anxiety on the subject of Mr. +Henley's illness. Relieved on hearing this good news, Iris naturally +expressed some surprise at her father's rapid recovery. She asked if +the doctors had misunderstood his malady when they believed him to be +in danger. To this question Mrs. Vimpany had replied by making an +unexpected confession. + +She owned that Mr. Henley's illness had been at no time of any serious +importance. A paragraph in a newspaper had informed her that he was +suffering from nothing worse than an attack of gout. It was a wicked +act to have exaggerated this report, and to have alarmed Lady Harry on +the subject of her father's health. Mrs. Vimpany had but one excuse to +offer. Fanny's letter had filled her with such unendurable doubts and +forebodings that she had taken the one way of inducing Lady Harry to +secure her own safety by at once leaving Passy--the way by a false +alarm. Deceit, so sincerely repented, so resolutely resisted, had tried +its power of temptation again, and had prevailed. + +"When I thought of you at the mercy of my vile husband," Mrs. Vimpany +said, "with your husband but too surely gained as an accomplice, my +good resolutions failed me. Is it only in books that a true repentance +never stumbles again? Or am I the one fallible mortal creature in the +world? I am ashamed of myself. But, oh, Lady Harry, I was so frightened +for you! Try to forgive me; I am so fond of you, and so glad to see you +here in safety. Don't go back! For God's sake, don't go back!" + +Iris had no intention of returning, while the doctor and his patient +were still at Passy; and she found in Mrs. Vimpany's compassion good +reason to forgive an offence committed through devotion to herself, and +atoned for by sincere regret. + +Fanny looked carefully over the next page of the letter, which +described Lady Harry's first interview with Mr. Mountjoy since his +illness. The expressions of happiness on renewing her relations with +her old and dear friend confirmed the maid in her first impression that +there was no fear of a premature return to Passy, with the wish to see +Lord Harry again as the motive. She looked over the later letters +next--and still the good influence of Mr. Mountjoy seemed to be in time +ascendant. There was anxiety felt for Fanny's safety, and curiosity +expressed to hear what discoveries she might have made; but the only +allusions to my lord contained ordinary inquiries relating to the state +of his health, and, on one occasion, there was a wish expressed to know +whether he was still on friendly terms with Mr. Vimpany. There seemed +to be no fear of tempting her mistress to undervalue the danger of +returning to the cottage, if she mentioned the cheering improvement now +visible in Mr. Oxbye. And yet Fanny still hesitated to trust her first +impressions, even after they had been confirmed. Her own sad experience +reminded her of the fatal influence which an unscrupulous man can +exercise over the woman who loves him. It was always possible that Lady +Harry might not choose to confide the state of her feelings towards her +husband to a person who, after all, only occupied the position of her +maid. The absence, in her letters, of any expressions of affectionate +regret was no proof that she was not thinking of my lord. So far as he +was personally concerned, the Dane's prospects of recovery would appear +to justify the action of the doctor and his accomplice. Distrusting +them both as resolutely as ever, and determined to keep Lady Harry as +long as possible at the safe distance of London, Fanny Mere, in writing +her reply, preserved a discreet silence on the subject of Mr. Oxbye's +health. + +[At this point Wilkie Collins' health prevented his finishing the +novel.] + +CHAPTER XLIX + +THE NURSE IS SENT AWAY + +"YOU have repented and changed your mind, Vimpany?" said Lord Harry. + +"I repented?" the doctor repeated, with a laugh. "You think me capable +of that, do you?" + +"The man is growing stronger and better every day. You are going to +make him recover, after all. I was afraid"--he corrected himself--"I +thought"--the word was the truer--"that you were going to poison him." + +"You thought I was going--we were going, my lord--to commit a stupid +and a useless crime. And, with our clever nurse present, all the time +watching with the suspicions of a cat, and noting every change in the +symptoms? No--I confess his case has puzzled me because I did not +anticipate this favourable change. Well--it is all for the best. Fanny +sees him grow stronger every day--whatever happens she can testify to +the care with which the man has been treated. So far she thought she +would have us in her power, and we have her." + +"You are mighty clever, Vimpany; but sometimes you are too clever for +me, and, perhaps, too clever for yourself." + +"Let me make myself clearer"--conscious of the nurse's suspicions, he +leaned forward and whispered: "Fanny must go. Now is the time. The man +is recovering. The man must go: the next patient will be your lordship +himself. Now do you understand?" + +"Partly." + +"Enough. If I am to act it is sufficient for you to understand step by +step. Our suspicious nurse is to go. That is the next step. Leave me to +act." + +Lord Harry walked away. He left the thing to the doctor. It hardly +seemed to concern him. A dying man; a conspiracy; a fraud:--yet the +guilty knowledge of all this gave him small uneasiness. He carried with +him his wife's last note: "May I hope to find on my return the man whom +I have trusted and honoured?" His conscience, callous as regards the +doctor's scheme, filled him with remorse whenever--which was fifty +times a day--he took this little rag of a note from his pocket-book and +read it again. Yes: she would always find the man, on her return--the +man whom she had trusted and honoured--the latter clause he passed +over--it would be, of course the same man: whether she would still be +able to trust and honour him--that question he did not put to himself. +After all, the doctor was acting--not he, himself. + +And he remembered Hugh Mountjoy. Iris would be with him--the man whose +affection was only brought out in the stronger light by his respect, +his devotion, and his delicacy. She would be in his society: she would +understand the true meaning of this respect and delicacy: she would +appreciate the depth of his devotion: she would contrast Hugh, the man +she might have married, with himself, the man she did marry. + +And the house was wretched without her; and he hated the sight of the +doctor--desperate and reckless. + +He resolved to write to Iris: he sat down and poured out his heart, but +not his conscience, to her. + +"As for our separation," he said, "I, and only I, am to blame. It is my +own abominable conduct that has caused it. Give me your pardon, dearest +Iris. If I have made it impossible for you to live with me, it is also +impossible for me to live without you. So am I punished. The house is +dull and lonely; the hours crawl, I know not how to kill the time; my +life is a misery and a burden because you are not with me. Yet I have +no right to complain; I ought to rejoice in thinking that you are happy +in being relieved of my presence. My dear, I do not ask you to come at +present"--he remembered, indeed, that her arrival at this juncture +might be seriously awkward--"I cannot ask you to come back yet, but let +me have a little hope--let me feel that in the sweetness of your nature +you will believe in my repentance, and let me look forward to a speedy +reunion in the future." + +When he had written this letter, which he would have done better to +keep in his own hands for awhile, he directed it in a feigned hand to +Lady Harry Norland, care of Hugh Mountjoy, at the latter's London +hotel. Mountjoy would not know Iris's correspondent, and would +certainly forward the letter. He calculated--with the knowledge of her +affectionate and impulsive nature--that Iris would meet him half-way, +and would return whenever he should be able to call her back. He did +not calculate, as will be seen, on the step which she actually took. + +The letter despatched, he came back to the cottage happier--he would +get his wife again. He looked in at the sick-room. The patient was +sitting up, chatting pleasantly; it was the best day he had known; the +doctor was sitting in a chair placed beside the bed, and the nurse +stood quiet, self-composed, but none the less watchful and suspicious. + +"You are going on so well, my man," Doctor Vimpany was saying, "That we +shall have you out and about again in a day or two. Not quite yet, +though--not quite yet," he pulled out his stethoscope and made an +examination with an immense show of professional interest. "My +treatment has succeeded, you see"--he made a note or two in his +pocket-book--"has succeeded," he repeated. "They will have to +acknowledge that." + +"Gracious sir, I am grateful. I have given a great deal too much +trouble." + +"A medical case can never give too much trouble--that is impossible. +Remember, Oxbye, it is Science which watches at your bedside. You are +not Oxbye; you are a case; it is not a man, it is a piece of machinery +that is out of order. Science watches: she sees you through and +through. Though you are made of solid flesh and bones, and clothed, to +Science you are transparent. Her business is not only to read your +symptoms, but to set the machinery right again." + +The Dane, overwhelmed, could only renew his thanks. + +"Can he stand, do you think, nurse?" the doctor went on. "Let us +try--not to walk about much to-day, but to get out of bed, if only to +prove to himself that he is so much better; to make him understand that +he is really nearly well. Come, nurse, let us give him a hand." + +In the most paternal manner possible the doctor assisted his patient, +weak, after so long a confinement to his bed, to get out of bed, and +supported him while he walked to the open window, and looked out into +the garden. "There," he said, "that is enough. Not too much at first. +To-morrow he will have to get up by himself. Well, Fanny, you agree at +last, I suppose, that I have brought this poor man round? At last, eh?" + +His look and his words showed what he meant. "You thought that some +devilry was intended." That was what the look meant. "You proposed to +nurse this man in order to watch for and to discover this devilry. Very +well, what have you got to say?" + +All that Fanny had to say was, submissively, that the man was clearly +much better; and, she added, he had been steadily improving ever since +he came to the cottage. + +That is what she said; but she said it without the light of confidence +in her eyes--she was still doubtful and suspicious. Whatever power the +doctor had of seeing the condition of lungs and hidden machinery, he +certainly had the power of reading this woman's thoughts. He saw, as +clearly as if upon a printed page, the bewilderment of her mind. She +knew that something was intended---something not for her to know. That +the man had been brought to the cottage to be made the subject of a +scientific experiment she did not believe. She had looked to see him +die, but he did not die. He was mending fast; in a little while he +would be as well as ever he had been in his life. What had the doctor +done it for? Was it really possible that nothing was ever intended +beyond a scientific experiment, which had succeeded? In the case of any +other man, the woman's doubts would have been entirely removed; in the +case of Dr. Vimpany these doubts remained. There are some men of whom +nothing good can be believed, whether of motive or of action; for if +their acts seem good, their motive must be bad. Many women know, or +fancy they know, such a man--one who seems to them wholly and +hopelessly bad. Besides, what was the meaning of the secret +conversation and the widespread colloquies of the doctor and my lord? +And why, at first, was the doctor so careless about his patient? + +"The time has come at last," said the doctor that evening, when the two +men were alone, "for this woman to go. The man is getting well rapidly, +he no longer wants a nurse; there is no reason for keeping her. If she +has suspicions there is no longer the least foundation for them; she +has assisted at the healing of a man desperately sick by a skilful +physician. What more? Nothing--positively nothing." + +"Can she tell my wife so much and no more?" asked Lord Harry. "Will +there be no more?" + +"She can tell her ladyship no more, because she will have no more to +tell," the doctor replied quietly. "She would like to learn more; she +is horribly disappointed that there is no more to tell; but she shall +hear no more. She hates me: but she hates your lordship more." + +"Why?" + +"Because her mistress loves you still. Such a woman as this would like +to absorb the whole affection of her mistress in herself. You laugh. +She is a servant, and a common person. How can such a person conceive +an affection so strong as to become a passion for one so superior? But +it is true. It is perfectly well known, and there have been many +recorded instances of such a woman, say a servant, greatly inferior in +station, conceiving a desperate affection for her mistress, accompanied +by the fiercest jealousy. Fanny Mere is jealous--and of you. She hates +you; she wants your wife to hate you. She would like nothing better +than to go back to her mistress with the proofs in her hand of such +acts on your part--such acts, I say," he chose his next words +carefully, "as would keep her from you for ever." + +"She's a devil, I dare say," said Lord Harry, carelessly. "What do I +care? What does it matter to me whether a lady's maid, more or less, +hates me or loves me?" + +"There spoke the aristocrat. My lord, remember that a lady's maid is a +woman. You have been brought up to believe, perhaps, that people in +service are not men and women. That is a mistake--a great mistake. +Fanny Mere is a woman--that is to say, an inferior form of man; and +there is no man in the world so low or so base as not to be able to do +mischief. The power of mischief is given to every one of us. It is the +true, the only Equality of Man--we can all destroy. What? a shot in the +dark; the striking of a lucifer match; the false accusation; the false +witness; the defamation of character;--upon my word, it is far more +dangerous to be hated by a woman than by a man. And this excellent and +faithful Fanny, devoted to her mistress, hates you, my lord, even +more"--he paused and laughed--"even more than the charming Mrs. Vimpany +hates her husband. Never mind. To-morrow we see the last of Fanny Mere. +She goes; she leaves her patient rapidly recovering. That is the fact +that she carries away--not the fact she hoped and expected to carry +away. She goes to-morrow and she will never come back again." + +The next morning the doctor paid a visit to his patient rather earlier +than usual. He found the man going on admirably: fresh in colour, +lively and cheerful, chatting pleasantly with his nurse. + +"So," said Dr. Vimpany, after the usual examination and questions, +"this is better than I expected. You are now able to get up. You can do +so by-and-by, after breakfast; you can dress yourself, you want no more +help. Nurse," he turned to Fanny, "I think that we have done with you. +I am satisfied with the careful watch you have kept over my patient. If +ever you think of becoming a nurse by profession, rely on my +recommendation. The experiment," he added, thoughtfully, "has fully +succeeded. I cannot deny that it has been owing partly to the +intelligence and patience with which you have carried out my +instructions. But I think that your services may now be relinquished." + +"When am I to go, sir?" she asked, impassively. + +"In any other case I should have said, 'Stay a little longer, if you +please. Use your own convenience.' In your case I must say, 'Go to your +mistress.' Her ladyship was reluctant to leave you behind. She will be +glad to have you back again. How long will you take to get ready?" + +"I could be ready in ten minutes, if it were necessary." + +"That is not necessary. You can take the night mail _via_ Dieppe and +Newhaven. It leaves Paris at 9.50. Give yourself an hour to get from +station to station. Any time, therefore, this evening before seven +o'clock will do perfectly well. You will ask his lordship for any +letters or messages he may have." + +"Yes, sir," Fanny replied. "With your permission, sir, I will go at +once, so as to get a whole day in Paris." + +"As you please, as you please," said the doctor, wondering why she +wanted a day in Paris; but it could have nothing to do with his sick +man. He left the room, promising to see the Dane again in an hour or +two, and took up a position at the garden gate through which the nurse +must pass. In about half an hour she walked down the path carrying her +box. The doctor opened the gate for her. + +"Good-bye, Fanny," he said. "Again, many thanks for your care and your +watchfulness--especially the latter. I am very glad," he said, with +what he meant for the sweetest smile, but it looked like a grin, "that +it has been rewarded in such a way as you hardly perhaps expected." + +"Thank you, sir," said the girl. "The man is nearly well now, and can +do without me very well indeed." + +"The box is too heavy for you, Fanny. Nay, I insist upon it: I shall +carry it to the station for you." + +It was not far to the station, and the box was not too heavy, but Fanny +yielded it. "He wants to see me safe out of the station," she thought. + +"I will see her safe out of the place," he thought. + +Ten minutes later the doors of the _salle d'attente_ were thrown open, +the train rolled in, and Fanny was carried away. + +The doctor returned thoughtfully to the house. The time was come for +the execution of his project. Everybody was out of the way. + +"She is gone," he said, when Lord Harry returned for breakfast at +eleven. "I saw her safely out of the station." + +"Gone!" his confederate echoed: "and I am alone in the house with you +and--and----" + +"The sick man--henceforth, yourself, my lord, yourself." + +CHAPTER L + +IN THE ALCOVE + +THE doctor was wrong. Fanny Mere did return, though he did not discover +the fact. + +She went away in a state of mind which is dangerous when it possesses a +woman of determination. The feminine mind loves to understand motives +and intentions; it hates to be puzzled. Fanny was puzzled. Fanny could +not understand what had been intended and what was now meant. For, +first, a man, apparently dying, had been brought into the house--why? +Then the man began slowly to recover, and the doctor, whose attentions +had always been of the most slender character, grew more morose every +day. Then he suddenly, on the very day when he sent her away, became +cheerful, congratulated the patient on his prospect of recovery, and +assisted in getting him out of bed for a change. The cook having been +sent away, there was now no one in the house but the Dane, the doctor, +and Lord Harry. + +Man hunts wild creatures; woman hunts man. Fanny was impelled by the +hunting instinct. She was sent out of the house to prevent her hunting; +she began to consider next, how, without discovery, she could return +and carry on the hunt. + +Everything conspired to drive her back: the mystery of the thing; the +desire to baffle, or at least to discover, a dark design; the wish to +be of service to her mistress; and the hope of finding out something +which would keep Iris from going back to her husband. Fanny was unable +to comprehend the depth of her mistress's affection for Lord Harry; but +that she was foolishly, weakly in love with him, and that she would +certainly return to him unless plain proofs of real villainy were +prepared--so much Fanny understood very well. When the omnibus set her +down, she found a quiet hotel near the terminus for Dieppe. She spent +the day walking about--to see the shops and streets, she would have +explained; to consider the situation, she should have explained. She +bought a new dress, a new hat, and a thick veil, so as to be disguised +at a distance. As for escaping the doctor's acuteness by any disguise +should he meet her face to face, that was impossible. But her mind was +made up--she would run any risk, meet any danger, in order to discover +the meaning of all this. + +Next morning she returned by an omnibus service which would allow her +to reach the cottage at about a quarter-past eleven. She chose this +time for two reasons: first, because breakfast was sent in from the +restaurant at eleven, and the two gentlemen would certainly be in the +_salle 'a manger_ over that meal; and, next, because the doctor always +visited his patient after breakfast. She could, therefore, hope to get +in unseen, which was the first thing. + +The spare bedroom--that assigned to the patient--was on the +ground-floor next to the dining-room; it communicated with the garden +by French windows, and by a small flight of steps. + +Fanny walked cautiously along the road past the garden-gate; a rapid +glance assured her that no one was there; she hastily opened the gate +and slipped in. She knew that the windows of the sick-room were closed +on the inner side, and the blinds were still down. The patient, +therefore, had not yet been disturbed or visited. The windows of the +dining-room were on the other side of the house. The woman therefore +slipped round to the back, where she found, as she expected, the door +wide open. In the hall she heard the voices of the doctor and Lord +Harry and the clicking of knives and forks. They were at breakfast. + +One thing more--What should she say to Oxbye? What excuse should she +make for coming back? How should she persuade him to keep silence about +her presence? His passion suggested a plan and a reason. She had come +back, she would tell him, for love of him, to watch over him, unseen by +the doctor, to go away with him when he was strong enough to travel. He +was a simple and a candid soul, and he would fall into such a little +innocent conspiracy. Meantime, it would be quite easy for her to remain +in the house perfectly undisturbed and unknown to either of the +gentlemen. + +She opened the door and looked in. + +So far, no reason would be wanted. The patient was sleeping peacefully. +But not in the bed. He was lying, partly dressed and covered with a +blanket, on the sofa. With the restlessness of convalescence he had +changed his couch in the morning after a wakeful night, and was now +sleeping far into the morning. + +The bed, as is common in French houses, stood in an alcove. A heavy +curtain hung over a rod, also in the French manner. Part of this +curtain lay over the head of the bed. + +The woman perceived the possibility of using the curtain as a means of +concealment. There was a space of a foot between the bed and the wall. +She placed herself, therefore, behind the bed, in this space, at the +head, where the curtain entirely concealed her. Nothing was more +unlikely than that the doctor should look behind the bed in that +corner. Then with her scissors she pierced a hole in the curtain large +enough for her to see perfectly without the least danger of being seen, +and she waited to see what would happen. + +She waited for half an hour, during which the sleeping man slept on +without movement, and the voices of the two men in the _salle 'a +manger_ rose and fell in conversation. Presently there was silence, +broken only by an occasional remark. "They have lit their cigars," +Fanny murmured; "they will take their coffee, and in a few minutes they +will be here." + +When they came in a few minutes later, they had their cigars, and Lord +Harry's face was slightly flushed, perhaps with the wine he had taken +at breakfast--perhaps with the glass of brandy after his coffee. + +The doctor threw himself into a chair and crossed his legs, looking +thoughtfully at his patient. Lord Harry stood over him. + +"Every day," he said, "the man gets better." + +"He has got better every day, so far," said the doctor. + +"Every day his face gets fatter, and he grows less like me." + +"It is true," said the doctor. + +"Then--what the devil are we to do?" + +"Wait a little longer," said the doctor. + +The woman in her hiding-place hardly dared to breathe. + +"What?" asked Lord Harry. "You mean that the man, after all--" + +"Wait a little longer," the doctor repeated quietly. + +"Tell me"--Lord Harry bent over the sick man eagerly--"you think----" + +"Look here," the doctor said. "Which of us two has had a medical +education--you, or I?" + +"You, of course." + +"Yes; I, of course. Then I tell you, as a medical man, that appearances +are sometimes deceptive. This man, for instance--he looks better; he +thinks he is recovering; he feels stronger. You observe that he is +fatter in the face. His nurse, Fanny Mere, went away with the knowledge +that he was much better, and the conviction that he was about to leave +the house as much recovered as such a patient with such a disorder can +expect." + +"Well?" + +"Well, my lord, allow me to confide in you. Medical men mostly keep +their knowledge in such matters to themselves. We know and recognise +symptoms which to you are invisible. By these symptoms--by those +symptoms," he repeated slowly and looking hard at the other man, "I +know that this man--no longer Oxbye, my patient, but--another--is in a +highly dangerous condition. I have noted the symptoms in my book"--he +tapped his pocket--"for future use." + +"And when--when----" Lord Harry was frightfully pale. His lips moved, +but he could not finish the sentence. The Thing he had agreed to was +terribly near, and it looked uglier than he had expected. + +"Oh! when?" the doctor replied carelessly. "Perhaps to-day--perhaps in +a week. Here, you see, Science is sometimes baffled. I cannot say." + +Lord Harry breathed deeply. "If the man is in so serious a condition," +he said, "is it safe or prudent for us to be alone in the house without +a servant and without a nurse?" + +"I was not born yesterday, my lord, I assure you," said the doctor in +his jocular way. "They have found me a nurse. She will come to-day. My +patient's life is, humanly speaking"--Lord Harry shuddered--"perfectly +safe until her arrival." + +"Well--but she is a stranger. She must know whom she is nursing." + +"Certainly. She will be told--I have already told her--that she is +going to nurse Lord Harry Norland, a young Irish gentleman. She is a +stranger. That is the most valuable quality she possesses. She is a +complete stranger. As for you, what are you? Anything you please. An +English gentleman staying with me under the melancholy circumstances of +his lordship's illness. What more natural? The English doctor is +staying with his patient, and the English friend is staying with the +doctor. When the insurance officer makes inquiries, as he is very +likely to do, the nurse will be invaluable for the evidence she will +give." + +He rose, pulled up the blinds noiselessly, and opened the windows. +Neither the fresh air nor the light awoke the sleeping man. + +Vimpany looked at his watch. "Time for the medicine," he said. "Wake +him up while I get it ready." + +"Would you not--at least---suffer him to have his sleep out?" asked +Lord Harry, again turning pale. + +"Wake him up. Shake him by the shoulder. Do as I tell you," said the +doctor, roughly. "He will go to sleep again. It is one of the finer +qualities of my medicine that it sends people to sleep. It is a most +soothing medicine. It causes a deep--a profound sleep. Wake him up, I +say." he went to the cupboard in which the medicines were kept. Lord +Harry with some difficulty roused the sick man, who awoke dull and +heavy, asking why he was disturbed. + +"Time for your medicine, my good fellow," said the doctor. "Take it, +and you shall not be disturbed again--I promise you that." + +The door of the cupboard prevented the spy from seeing what the doctor +was doing; but he took longer than usual in filling the glass. Lord +Harry seemed to observe this, for he left the Dane and looked over the +doctor's shoulder. "What are you doing?" he asked in a whisper. + +"Better not inquire, my lord," said the doctor. "What do you know about +the mysteries of medicine?" + +"Why must I not inquire?" + +Vimpany turned, closing the cupboard behind him. In his hand was a +glass full of the stuff he was about to administer. + +"If you look in the glass," he said, "you will understand why." + +Lord Harry obeyed. He saw a face ghastly in pallor: he shrank back and +fell into a chair, saying no more. + +"Now, my good friend," said the doctor, "drink this and you'll be +better--ever so much better, ever so much better. Why--that is +brave----" he looked at him strangely, "How do you like the medicine?" + +Oxbye shook his head as a man who has taken something nauseous. "I +don't like it at all," he said. "It doesn't taste like the other +physic." + +"No I have been changing it--improving it." + +The Dane shook his head again. "There's a pain in my throat," he said; +"it stings--it burns!" + +"Patience--patience. It will pass away directly, and you will lie down +again and fall asleep comfortably." + +Oxbye sank back upon the sofa. His eyes closed. Then he opened them +again, looking about him strangely, as one who is suffering some new +experience. Again he shook his head, again he closed his eyes, and he +opened them no more. He was asleep. + +The doctor stood at his head watching gravely. Lord Harry, in his +chair, leaned forward, also watching, but with white face and trembling +hands. + +As they watched, the man's head rolled a little to the side, turning +his face more towards the room. Then a curious and terrifying thing +happened. His mouth began slowly to fall open. + +"Is he--is he--is he fainting?" Lord Harry whispered. + +"No; he is asleep. Did you never see a man sleep with his mouth wide +open?" + +They were silent for a space. + +The doctor broke the silence. + +"There's a good light this morning," he said carelessly. "I think I +will try a photograph. Stop! Let me tie up his mouth with a +handkerchief--so." The patient was not disturbed by the operation, +though the doctor tied up the handkerchief with vigour enough to awaken +a sound sleeper. "Now--we'll see if he looks like a post-mortem +portrait." + +He went into the next room, and returned with his camera. In a few +minutes he had taken the picture, and was holding the glass negative +against the dark sleeve of his coat, so as to make it visible. "We +shall see how it looks," he said, "when it is printed. At present I +don't think it is good enough as an imitation of you to be sent to the +insurance offices. Nobody, I am afraid, who knew you, would ever take +this for a post-mortem portrait of Lord Harry. Well, we shall see. +Perhaps by-and-by--to-morrow--we may be able to take a better +photograph. Eh?" Lord Harry followed his movements, watching him +closely, but said nothing. His face remained pale and his fingers still +trembled. There was now no doubt at all in his mind, not only as to +Vimpany's intentions, but as to the crime itself. He dared not speak or +move. + +A ring at the door pealed through the house. Lord Harry started in his +chair with a cry of terror. + +"That," said the doctor, quietly, "is the nurse--the new nurse---the +stranger." He took off the handkerchief from Oxbye's face, looked about +the room as if careful that everything should be in its right place, +and went out to admit the woman. Lord Harry sprang to his feet and +passed his hand over the sick man's face. + +"Is it done?" he whispered. "Can the man be poisoned? Is he already +dead?--already? Before my eyes?" + +He laid his finger on the sick man's pulse. But the doctor's step and +voice stopped him. Then the nurse came in, following Vimpany. She was +an elderly, quiet-looking French woman. + +Lord Harry remained standing at the side of the sofa, hoping to see the +man revive. + +"Now," said Vimpany, cheerfully, "here is your patient, nurse. He is +asleep now. Let him have his sleep out--he has taken his medicine and +will want nothing more yet awhile. If you want anything let me know. We +shall be in the next room or in the garden--somewhere about the house. +Come, my friend." He drew away Lord Harry gently by the arm, and they +left the room. + +Behind the curtain Fanny Mere began to wonder how she was to get off +unseen. + +The nurse, left alone, looked at her patient, who lay with his head +turned partly round, his eyes closed, his mouth open. "A strange +sleep," she murmured; "but the doctor knows, I suppose. He is to have +his sleep out." + +"A strange sleep, indeed!" thought the watcher. She was tempted at this +moment to disclose herself and to reveal what she had seen; but the +thought of Lord Harry's complicity stopped her. With what face could +she return to her mistress and tell her that she herself was the means +of her husband being charged with murder? She stayed herself, +therefore, and waited. + +Chance helped her, at last, to escape. + +The nurse took off her bonnet and shawl and began to look about the +room. She stepped to the bed and examined the sheets and pillow-case as +a good French housewife should. Would she throw back the curtain? If +so--what would happen next? Then it would become necessary to take the +new nurse into confidence, otherwise----Fanny did not put the +remainder of this sentence into words. It remained a terror: it meant +that if Vimpany found out where she had been and what she had seen and +heard, there would be two, instead of one, cast into a deep slumber. + +The nurse turned from the bed, however, attracted by the half-open door +of the cupboard. Here were the medicine bottles. She took them out one +by one, looked at them with professional curiosity, pulled out the +corks, smelt the contents, replaced the bottles. Then she went to the +window, which stood open; she stepped out upon the stone steps which +led into the garden, looking about her, to breathe the soft air of noon +among the flowers. + +She came back, and it again seemed as if she would examine the bed, but +her attention was attracted by a small book-case. She began to pull +down the books one after the other and to turn them over, as a +half-educated person does, in the hope of finding something amusing. +She found a book with pictures. Then she sat down in the armchair +beside the sofa and began to turn over the leaves slowly. How long was +this going to last? + +It lasted about half an hour. The nurse laid down the volume with a +yawn, stretched herself, yawned again, crossed her hands, and closed +her eyes. She was going to sleep. If she would only fall so fast asleep +that the woman behind the curtain could creep away! + +But sometimes at the sleepiest moment sleep is driven away by an +accident. The accident in this case was that the nurse before finally +dropping off remembered that she was nursing a sick man, and sat up to +look at him before she allowed herself to drop off. + +Stung with sudden inspiration she sprang to her feet and bent over the +man. "Does he breathe?" she asked. She bent lower. "His pulse! does it +beat?" she caught his wrist. + +"Doctor!" she shrieked, running into the garden. "Doctor! Come--come +quick! He is dead!" + +Fanny Mere stepped from her hiding-place and ran out of the back door, +and by the garden gate into the road. + +She had escaped. She had seen the crime committed. She knew now at +least what was intended and why she was sent away. The motive for the +crime she could not guess. + +CHAPTER LI + +WHAT NEXT? + +WHAT should she do with the terrible secret? + +She ought to inform the police. But there were two objections. First, +the nurse may have been mistaken in supposing her patient to be dead. +She herself had no choice but to escape as she did. Next, the dreadful +thought occurred to her that she herself until the previous day had +been the man's nurse--his only nurse, day and night. What was to +prevent the doctor from fixing the guilt of poisoning upon herself? +Nay; it would be his most obvious line of action. The man was left +alone all the morning; the day before he had shown every sign of +returning strength; she would have to confess that she was in hiding. +How long had she been there? Why was she in hiding? Was it not after +she had poisoned the man and when she heard the doctor's footstep? +Naturally ignorant of poisons and their symptoms, it seemed to her as +if these facts so put together would be conclusive against her. +Therefore, she determined to keep quiet in Paris that day and to cross +over by the night boat from Dieppe in the evening. She would at first +disclose everything to Mrs. Vimpany and to Mountjoy. As to what she +would tell her mistress she would be guided by the advice of the +others. + +She got to London in safety and drove straight to Mr. Mountjoy's hotel, +proposing first to communicate the whole business to him. But she found +in his sitting-room Mrs. Vimpany herself. + +"We must not awake him," she said, "whatever news you bring. His +perfect recovery depends entirely on rest and quiet. There"--she +pointed to the chimneypiece--"is a letter in my lady's handwriting. I +am afraid I know only too well what it tells him." + +"What does it tell?" + +"This very morning," Mrs. Vimpany went on, "I called at her lodging. +She has gone away." + +"Gone away? My lady gone away? Where is she gone?" + +"Where do you think she is most likely to have gone?" + +"Not?--oh!--not to her husband? Not to him!--oh! this is more +terrible--far more terrible--than you can imagine." + +"You will tell me why it is now so much more terrible. Meantime, I find +that the cabman was told to drive to Victoria. That is all I know. I +have no doubt, however, but that she has gone back to her husband. She +has been in a disturbed, despondent condition ever since she arrived in +London. Mr. Mountjoy has been as kind as usual: but he has not been +able to chase away her sadness. Whether she was fretting after her +husband, or whether--but this I hardly think--she was comparing the man +she had lost with the man she had taken--but I do not know. All I do +know is that she has been uneasy ever since she came from France, and +what I believe is that she has been reproaching herself with leaving +her husband without good cause." + +"Good cause!" echoed Fanny. "Oh! good gracious! If she only knew, +there's cause enough to leave a hundred husbands." + +"Nothing seemed to rouse her," Mrs. Vimpany continued, without +regarding the interruption. "I went with her to the farm to see her +former maid, Rhoda. The girl's health is re-established; she is engaged +to marry the farmer's brother. Lady Harry was kind, and said the most +pleasant things; she even pulled off one of her prettiest rings and +gave it to the girl. But I could see that it was an effort for her to +appear interested--her thoughts were with her husband all the time. I +was sure it would end in this way, and I am not in the least surprised. +But what will Mr. Mountjoy say when he opens the letter?" + +"Back to her husband!" Fanny repeated. "Oh! what shall we do?" + +"Tell me what you mean. What has happened?" + +"I must tell you. I thought I would tell Mr. Mountjoy first: but I must +tell you, although--" She stopped. + +"Although it concerns my husband. Never mind that consideration--go +on." Fanny told the story from the beginning. + +When she had finished, Mrs. Vimpany looked towards the bedroom door. +"Thank God!" she said, "that you told this story to me instead of to +Mr. Mountjoy. At all events, it gives me time to warn you not to tell +him what you have told me. We can do nothing. Meantime, there is one +thing you must do--go away. Do not let Mr. Mountjoy find you here. He +must not learn your story. If he hears what has happened and reads her +letter, nothing will keep him from following her to Passy. He will see +that there is every prospect of her being entangled in this vile +conspiracy, and he will run any risk in the useless attempt to save +her. He is too weak to bear the journey--far too weak for the violent +emotions that will follow; and, oh! how much too weak to cope with my +husband--as strong and as crafty as he is unprincipled! + +"Then, what, in Heaven's name, are we to do?" + +"Anything--anything--rather than suffer Mr. Mountjoy, in his weak +state, to interfere between man and wife." + +"Yes--yes--but such a man! Mrs. Vimpany, he was present when the Dane +was poisoned. He _knew_ that the man was poisoned. He sat in the chair, +his face white, and he said nothing. Oh! It was as much as I could do +not to rush out and dash the glass from his hands. Lord Harry said +nothing." + +"My dear, do you not understand what you have got to do?" + +Fanny made no reply. + +"Consider--my husband---Lord Harry--neither of them knows that you were +present. You can return with the greatest safety; and then whatever +happens, you will be at hand to protect my lady. Consider, again, as +her maid, you can be with her always--in her own room; at night; +everywhere and at all times; while Mr. Mountjoy could only be with her +now and then, and at the price of not quarrelling with her husband." + +"Yes," said Fanny. + +"And you are strong, and Mr. Mountjoy is weak and ill." + +"You think that I should go back to Passy?" + +"At once, without the delay of an hour. Lady Harry started last night. +Do you start this evening. She will thus have you with her twenty-four +hours after her arrival." + +Fanny rose. + +"I will go," she said. "It terrifies me even to think of going back to +that awful cottage with that dreadful man. Yet I will go. Mrs. Vimpany, +I know that it will be of no use. Whatever is going to happen now will +happen without any power of mine to advance or to prevent. I am certain +that my journey will prove useless. But I will go. Yes, I will go this +evening." + +Then, with a final promise to write as soon as possible--as soon as +there should be anything to communicate--Fanny went away. + +Mrs. Vimpany, alone, listened. From the bedroom came no sound at all. +Mr. Mountjoy slept still. When he should be strong enough it would be +time to let him know what had been done. But she sat thinking-- +thinking--even when one has the worst husband in the world, and very +well knows his character, it is disagreeable to hear such a story as +Fanny had told that wife this morning. + +CHAPTER LII + +THE DEAD MAN'S PHOTOGRAPH + +"HE is quite dead," said the doctor, with one finger on the man's pulse +and another lifting his eyelid. "He is dead. I did not look for so +speedy an end. It is not half an hour since I left him breathing +peacefully. Did he show signs of consciousness?" + +"No, sir; I found him dead." + +"This morning he was cheerful. It is not unusual in these complaints. I +have observed it in many cases of my own experience. On the last +morning of life, at the very moment when Death is standing on the +threshold with uplifted dart, the patient is cheerful and even joyous: +he is more hopeful than he has felt for many months: he thinks--nay, he +is sure--that he is recovering: he says he shall be up and about before +long: he has not felt so strong since the beginning of his illness. +Then Death strikes him, and he falls." He made this remark in a most +impressive manner. + +"Nothing remains," he said, "but to certify the cause of death and to +satisfy the proper forms and authorities. I charge myself with this +duty. The unfortunate young man belonged to a highly distinguished +family. I will communicate with his friends and forward his papers. One +last office I can do for him. For the sake of his family, nurse, I will +take a last photograph of him as he lies upon his death-bed." Lord +Harry stood in the doorway, listening with an aching and a fearful +heart. He dared not enter the chamber. It was the Chamber of Death. +What was his own part in calling the Destroying Angel who is at the +beck and summons of every man--even the meanest? Call him and he comes. +Order him to strike--and he obeys. But under penalties. + +The doctor's prophecy, then, had come true. But in what way and by what +agency? The man was dead. What was his own share in the man's death? He +knew when the Dane was brought into the house that he was brought there +to die. As the man did not die, but began to recover fast, he had seen +in the doctor's face that the man would have to die. He had heard the +doctor prophesy out of his medical knowledge that the man would surely +die; and then, after the nurse had been sent away because her patient +required her services no longer, he had seen the doctor give the +medicine which burned the patient's throat. What was that medicine? Not +only had it burned his throat, but it caused him to fall into a deep +sleep, in which his heart ceased to beat and his blood ceased to flow. + +He turned away and walked out of the cottage. For an hour he walked +along the road. Then he stopped and walked back. Ropes drew him; he +could no longer keep away. He felt as if something must have happened. +Possibly he would find the doctor arrested and the police waiting for +himself, to be charged as an accomplice or a principal. + +He found no such thing. The doctor was in the salon, with letters and +official forms before him. He looked up cheerfully. + +"My English friend," he said, "the unexpected end of this young Irish +gentleman is a very melancholy affair. I have ascertained the name of +the family solicitors and have written to them. I have also written to +his brother as the head of the house. I find also, by examination of +his papers, that his life is insured--the amount is not stated, but I +have communicated the fact of the death. The authorities--they are, +very properly, careful in such matters--have received the necessary +notices and forms: to-morrow, all legal forms having been gone through, +we bury the deceased." + +"So soon?" + +"So soon? In these eases of advanced pulmonary disease the sooner the +better. The French custom of speedy interment may be defended as more +wholesome than our own. On the other hand, I admit that it has its weak +points. Cremation is, perhaps, the best and only method of removing the +dead which is open to no objections except one. I mean, of course, the +chance that the deceased may have met with his death by means of +poison. But such cases are rare, and, in most instances, would be +detected by the medical man in attendance before or at the time of +death. I think we need not----My dear friend, you look ill. Are you +upset by such a simple thing as the death of a sick man? Let me +prescribe for you. A glass of brandy neat. So," he went into the _salle +'a manger_ and returned with his medicine. "Take that. Now let us +talk." The doctor continued his conversation in a cheerfully scientific +strain, never alluding to the conspiracy or to the consequences which +might follow, He told hospital stories bearing on deaths sudden and +unexpected; some of them he treated in a jocular vein. The dead man in +the next room was a Case: he knew of many similar and equally +interesting Cases. When one has arrived at looking upon a dead man as a +Case, there is little fear of the ordinary human weakness which makes +us tremble in the awful presence of death. + +Presently steps were heard outside. The doctor rose and left the +room--but returned in a few minutes. + +"The _croque-morts_ have come," he said. "They are with the nurse +engaged upon their business. It seems revolting to the outside world. +To them it is nothing but the daily routine of work. By-the-way, I took +a photograph of his lordship in the presence of the nurse. +Unfortunately--but look at it----" + +"It is the face of the dead man"--Lord Harry turned away. "I don't want +to see it. I cannot bear to see it. You forget--I was actually present +when--" + +"Not when he died. Come, don't be a fool. What I was going to say was +this: The face is no longer in the least like you. Nobody who ever saw +you once even would believe that this is your face. The creature--he +has given us an unconscionable quantity of trouble--was a little like +you when he first came. I was wrong in supposing that this likeness was +permanent. Now he is dead, he is not in the least like you. I ought to +have remembered that the resemblance would fade away and disappear in +death. Come and look at him." + +"No, no." + +"Weakness! Death restores to every man his individuality. No two men +are like in death, though they may be like in life. Well. It comes to +this. We are going to bury Lord Harry Norland to-morrow, and we must +have a photograph of him as he lay on his deathbed." + +"Well?" + +"Well, my friend, go upstairs to your own room, and I will follow with +the camera." + + +In a quarter of an hour he was holding the glass against his sleeve. + +"Admirable!" he said. "The cheek a little sunken--that was the effect +of the chalk and the adjustment of the shadows--the eyes closed, the +face white, the hands composed. It is admirable! Who says that we +cannot make the sun tell lies?" + +As soon as he could get a print of the portrait, he gave it to Lord +Harry. + +"There," he said, "we shall get a better print to-morrow. This is the +first copy." + +He had mounted it on a frame of card, and had written under it the name +once borne by the dead man, with the date of his death. The picture +seemed indeed that of a dead man. Lord Harry shuddered. + +"There," he said, "everything else has been of no use to us--the +presence of the sick man--the suspicions of the nurse--his death-even +his death--has been of no use to us. We might have been spared the +memory--the awful memory--of this death!" + +"You forget, my English friend, that a dead body was necessary for us. +We had to bury somebody. Why not the man Oxbye?" + +CHAPTER LIII + +THE WIFE'S RETURN + +OF course Mrs. Vimpany was quite right. Iris had gone back to her +husband. She arrived, in fact, at the cottage in the evening just +before dark--in the falling day, when some people are more than +commonly sensitive to sights and sounds, and when the eyes are more apt +than at other times to be deceived by strange appearances. Iris walked +into the garden, finding no one there. She opened the door with her own +key and let herself in. The house struck her as strangely empty and +silent. She opened the dining-room door: no one was there. Like all +French dining-rooms, it was used for no other purpose than for eating, +and furnished with little more than the barest necessaries. She closed +the door and opened that of the salon: that also was empty. She called +her husband: there was no answer. She called the name of the cook: +there was no answer. It was fortunate that she did not open the door of +the spare room, for there lay the body of the dead man. She went +upstairs to her husband's room. That too was empty. But there was +something lying on the table--a photograph. She took it up. Her face +became white suddenly and swiftly. She shrieked aloud, then drooped the +picture and fell fainting to the ground. For the photograph was nothing +less than that of her husband, dead in his white graveclothes, his +hands composed, his eyes closed, his cheek waxen. + +The cry fell upon the ears of Lord Harry, who was in the garden below. +He rushed into the house and lifted his wife upon the bed. The +photograph showed him plainly what had happened. + +She came to her senses again, but seeing her husband alive before her, +and remembering what she had seen, she shrieked again, and fell into +another swoon. + +"What is to be done now?" asked the husband. "What shall I tell her? +How shall I make her understand? What can I do for her?" + +As for help, there was none: the nurse was gone on some errand; the +doctor was arranging for the funeral of Oxbye under the name of Lord +Harry Norland; the cottage was empty. + +Such a fainting fit does not last for ever. Iris came round, and sat +up, looking wildly around. + +"What is it?" she cried. "What does it mean?" + +"It means, my love, that you have returned to your husband." He laid an +arm round her, and kissed her again and again. + +"You are my Harry!--living!--my own Harry?" + +"Your own Harry, my darling. What else should I be?" + +"Tell me then, what does it mean--that picture--that horrid +photograph?" + +"That means nothing--nothing--a freak--a joke of the doctor's. What +could it mean?" He took it up. "Why, my dear, I am living--living and +well. What should this mean but a joke?" + +He laid it on the table again, face downwards. But her eyes showed that +she was not satisfied. Men do not make jokes on death; it is a sorry +jest indeed to dress up a man in grave-clothes, and make a photograph +of him as of one dead. + +"But you--you, my Iris; you are here--tell me how and why--and when, +and everything? Never mind that stupid picture: tell me." + +"I got your letter, Harry," she replied. + +"My letter?" he repeated. "Oh! my dear, you got my letter, and you saw +that your husband loved you still." + +"I could not keep away from you, Harry, whatever had happened. I stayed +as long as I could. I thought about you day and night. And at last +I--I--I came back. Are you angry with me, Harry?" + +"Angry? Good God! my dearest, angry?" He kissed her passionately--not +the less passionately that she had returned at a time so terrible. What +was he to say to her? How was he to tell her? While he showered kisses +on her he was asking himself these questions. When she found out--when +he should confess to her the whole truth--she would leave him again. +Yet he did not understand the nature of the woman who loves. He held +her in his arms; his kisses pleaded for him; they mastered her--she was +ready to believe, to accept, to surrender even her truth and honesty; +and she was ready, though she knew it not, to become the accomplice of +a crime. Rather than leave her husband again, she would do everything. + +Yet, Lord Harry felt there was one reservation: he might confess +everything, except the murder of the Dane. No word of confession had +passed the doctor's lips, yet he knew too well that the man had been +murdered; and, so far as the man had been chosen for his resemblance to +himself, that was perfectly useless, because the resemblance, though +striking at the first, had been gradually disappearing as the man Oxbye +grew better; and was now, as we have seen, wholly lost after death. + +"I have a great deal--a great deal--to tell you, dear," said the +husband, holding both her hands tenderly. "You will have to be very +patient with me. You must make up your mind to be shocked at first, +though I shall be able to convince you that there was really nothing +else to be done--nothing else at all." + +"Oh! go on, Harry. Tell me all. Hide nothing." + +"I will tell you all," he replied. + +"First, where is that poor man whom the doctor brought here and Fanny +nursed? And where is Fanny?" + +"The poor man," he replied carelessly, "made so rapid a recovery that +he has got on his legs and gone away--I believe, to report himself to +the hospital whence he came. It is a great triumph for the doctor, +whose new treatment is now proved to be successful. He will make a +grand flourish of trumpets about it. I dare say, if all he claims for +it is true, he has taken a great step in the treatment of lung +diseases." + +Iris had no disease of the lungs, and consequently cared very little +for the scientific aspect of the question. + +"Where is my maid, then?" + +"Fanny? She went away--let me see: to-day is Friday--on Wednesday +morning. It was no use keeping her here. The man was well, and she was +anxious to get back to you. So she started on Wednesday morning, +proposing to take the night boat from Dieppe. She must have stopped +somewhere on the way." + +"I suppose she will go to see Mrs. Vimpany. I will send her a line +there." + +"Certainly. That will be sure to find her." + +"Well, Harry, is there anything else to tell me? + +"A great deal," he repeated. "That photograph, Iris, which frightened +you so much, has been very carefully taken by Vimpany for a certain +reason." + +"What reason?" + +"There are occasions," he replied, "when the very best thing that can +happen to a man is the belief that he is dead. Such a juncture of +affairs has happened to myself--and to you--at this moment. It is +convenient--even necessary--for me that the world should believe me +dead. In point of fact, I must be dead henceforth. Not for anything +that I have done, or that I am afraid of--don't think that. No; it is +for the simple reason that I have no longer any money or any resources +whatever. That is why I must be dead. Had you not returned in this +unexpected manner, my dear, you would have heard of my death from the +doctor, and he would have left it to chance to find a convenient +opportunity of letting you know the truth. I am, however, deeply +grieved that I was so careless as to leave that photograph upon the +table." + +"I do not understand," she said. "You pretend to be dead?" + +"Yes. I _must_ have money. I have some left--a very little. I _must_ +have money; and, in order to get it, I must be dead." + +"How will that help?" + +"Why, my dear, I am insured, and my insurances will be paid after my +death; but not before." + +"Oh! must you get money--even by a----" She hesitated. + +"Call it a conspiracy, my dear, if you please. As there is no other way +whatever left, I must get money that way." + +"Oh, this is dreadful! A conspiracy, Harry? a--a--fraud?" + +"If you please. That is the name which lawyers give to it." + +"But oh, Harry!--it is a crime. It is a thing for which men are tried +and found guilty and sentenced." + +"Certainly; if they are found out. Meantime, it is only the poor, +ignorant, clumsy fool who gets found out. In the City these things are +done every day. Quite as a matter of course," he added carelessly. "It +is not usual for men to take their wives into confidence, but in this +case I must take you into confidence: I have no choice, as you will +understand directly." + +"Tell me, Harry, who first thought of this way?" + +"Vimpany, of course. Oh! give him the credit where real cleverness is +concerned. Vimpany suggested the thing. He found me well-nigh as +desperately hard up as he is himself. He suggested it. At first, I +confess, I did not like it. I refused to listen to any more talk about +it. But, you see, when one meets destitution face to face, one will do +anything--everything. Besides, as I will show you, this is not really a +fraud. It is only an anticipation of a few years. However, there was +another reason." + +"Was it to find the money to meet the promissory note?" + +"My dear, you may forget--you may resolve never to throw the thing in +my teeth; but my love for you will never suffer me to forget that I +have lost your little fortune in a doubtful speculation It is all gone, +never to be recovered again; and this after I had sworn never to touch +a farthing of it. Iris!"--he started to his feet and walked about the +room as one who is agitated by emotion--"Iris! I could face +imprisonment for debt, I could submit to pecuniary ruin, for that +matter; the loss of money would not cause me the least trouble, but I +cannot endure to have ruined you." + +"Oh! Harry, as if I mind. Everything that I have is yours When I gave +you myself I gave all. Take--use--lose it all. As you think, I should +never _feel_ reproach, far less utter a word of blame. Dearest Harry, +if that is all--" + +"No; it is the knowledge that you will not even feel reproach that is +my constant accuser. At my death you will get all back again. But I am +not old; I may live for many, many years to come. How can I wait for my +own death when I can repair this wickedness by a single stroke?" + +"But by another wickedness--and worse." + +"No--not another crime. Remember that this money is mine. It will come +to my heirs some day, as surely as to-morrow's sun will rise. Sooner or +later it will be mine; I will make it sooner, that is all. The +Insurance Company will lose nothing but the paltry interest for the +remainder of my life. My dear, if it is disgraceful to do this I will +endure disgrace. It is easier to bear that than constant self-reproach +which I feel when I think of you and the losses I have inflicted upon +you." + +Again he folded her in his arms; he knelt before her; he wept over her. +Carried out of herself by this passion, Iris made no more resistance. + +"Is it--is it," she asked timidly, "too late to draw back?" + +"It is too late," he replied, thinking of the dead man below. "It is +too late. All is completed." + +"My poor Harry! What shall we do? How shall we live? How shall we +contrive never to be found out?" + +She would not leave him, then. She accepted the situation. He was +amazed at the readiness with which she fell; but he did not understand +how she was ready to cling to him, for better for worse, through worse +evils than this; nor could he understand how things formerly impossible +to her had been rendered possible by the subtle deterioration of the +moral nature, when a woman of lofty mind at the beginning loves and is +united to a man of lower nature and coarser fibre than herself. Only a +few months before, Iris would have swept aside these sophistrics with +swift and resolute hand. Now she accepted them. + +"You have fallen into the doctor's hands, dear," she said. "Pray Heaven +it brings us not into worse evils! What can I say? it is through love +of your wife--through love of your wife--oh! husband!" she threw +herself into his arms, and forgave everything and accepted everything. +Henceforth she would be--though this she knew not--the willing +instrument of the two conspirators. + +CHAPTER LIV + +ANOTHER STEP + +"I HAVE left this terrible thing about once too often already," and +Lord Harry took it from the table. "Let me put it in a place of +safety." + +He unlocked a drawer and opened it. "I will put it here," he said. +"Why"--as if suddenly recollecting something--"here is my will. I shall +be leaving that about on the table next. Iris, my dear, I have left +everything to you. All will be yours." He took out the document. "Keep +it for me, Iris. It is yours. You may as well have it now, and then I +know, in your careful hands, it will be quite safe. Not only is +everything left to you, but you are the sole executrix." + +Iris took the will without a word. She understood, now, what it meant. +If she was the sole executrix she would have to act. If everything was +left to her she would have to receive the money. Thus, at a single +step, she became not only cognisant of the conspiracy, but the chief +agent and instrument to carry it out. + +This done, her husband had only to tell her what had to be done at +once, in consequence of her premature arrival. He had planned, he told +her, not to send for her--not to let her know or suspect anything of +the truth until the money had been paid to the widow by the Insurance +Company. As things had turned out, it would be best for both of them to +leave Passy at once--that very evening--before her arrival was known by +anybody, and to let Vimpany carry out the rest of the business. He was +quite to be trusted--he would do everything that was wanted. "Already," +he said, "the Office will have received from the doctor a notification +of my death. Yesterday evening he wrote to everybody--to my +brother--confound him!--and to the family solicitor. Every moment that +I stay here increases the danger of my being seen and recognised--after +the Office has been informed that I am dead." + +"Where are we to go?" + +"I have thought of that. There is a little quiet town in Belgium where +no English people ever come at all. We will go there, then we will take +another name; we will be buried to the outer world, and will live, for +the rest of our lives, for ourselves alone. Do you agree?" + +"I will do, Harry, whatever you think best." + +"It will be for a time only. When all is ready, you will have to step +to the front--the will in your hand to be proved--to receive what is +due to you as the widow of Lord Harry Norland. You will go back to +Belgium, after awhile, so as to disarm suspicion, to become once more +the wife of William Linville." + +Iris sighed heavily, Then she caught her husband's eyes gathering with +doubt, and she smiled again. + +"In everything, Harry," she said, "I am your servant. When shall we +start?" + +"Immediately. I have only to write a letter to the doctor. Where is +your bag? Is this all? Let me go first to see that no one is about. +Have you got the will? Oh! it is here--yes--in the bag. I will bring +along the bag." + +He ran downstairs, and came up quickly. + +"The nurse has returned," he said. "She is in the spare room." + +"What nurse?" + +"The nurse who came after Fanny left. The man was better, but the +doctor thought it wisest to have a nurse to the end," he explained +hurriedly, and she suspected nothing till afterwards. "Come down +quietly--go out by the back-door--she will not see you." So Iris +obeyed. She went out of her own house like a thief, or like her own +maid Fanny, had she known. She passed through the garden, and out of +the garden into the road. There she waited for her husband. + +Lord Harry sat down and wrote a letter. + +"Dear Doctor," he said, "while you are arranging things outside an +unexpected event has happened inside. Nothing happens but the +unexpected. My wife has come back. It is the most unexpected event of +any. Anything else might have happened. Most fortunately she has not +seen the spare bedroom, and has no idea of its contents. + +"At this point reassure yourself. + +"My wife has gone. + +"She found on the table your first print of the negative. The sight of +this before she saw me threw her into some kind of swoon, from which, +however, she recovered. + +"I have explained things to a certain point. She understands that Lord +Harry Norland is deceased. She does not understand that it was +necessary to have a funeral; there is no necessity to tell her of that. +I think she understands that she must not seem to have been here. +Therefore she goes away immediately. + +"The nurse has not seen her. No one has seen her. + +"She understands, further, that as the widow, heir, and executrix of +Lord Harry she will have to prove his will, and to receive the money +due to him by the Insurance Company. She will do this out of love for +her husband. I think that the persuasive powers of a certain person +have never yet been estimated at their true value. + +"Considering the vital importance of getting her out of the place +before she can learn anything of the spare bedroom, and of getting me +out of the place before any messenger can arrive from the London +office, I think you will agree with me that I am right in leaving +Passy--and Paris--with Lady Harry this very afternoon. + +"You may write to William Linville, Poste-Restante, Louvain, Belgium. I +am sure I can trust you to destroy this letter. + +"Louvain is a quiet, out-of-the-way place, where one can live quite +separated from all old friends, and very cheaply. + +"Considering the small amount of money that I have left, I rely upon +you to exercise the greatest economy. I do not know how long it may be +before just claims are paid up--perhaps in two months--perhaps in +six--but until things are settled there will be tightness. + +"At the same time it will not be difficult, as soon as Lady Harry goes +to London, to obtain some kind of advance from the family solicitor on +the strength of the insurance due to her from her late husband. + +"I am sorry, dear doctor, to leave you alone over the obsequies of this +unfortunate gentleman. You will also have, I hear, a good deal of +correspondence with his family. You may, possibly, have to see them in +England. All this you will do, and do very well. Your bill for medical +attendance you will do well to send in to the widow. + +"One word more. Fanny Mere, the maid, has gone to London; but she has +not seen Lady Harry. As soon as she hears that her mistress has left +London she will be back to Passy. She may come at any moment. I think +if I were you I would meet her at the garden gate and send her on. It +would be inconvenient if she were to arrive before the funeral. + +"My dear doctor, I rely on your sense, your prudence, and your +capability.--Yours very sincerely, + +"Your ENGLISH FRIEND." + + +He read this letter very carefully. Nothing in it he thought the least +dangerous, and yet something suggested danger. However, he left it; he +was obliged to caution and warn the doctor, and he was obliged to get +his wife away as quietly as possible. + +This done, he packed up his things and hurried off to the station, and +Passy saw him no more. + +The next day the mortal remains of Lord Harry Norland were lowered into +the grave. + +CHAPTER LV + +THE ADVENTURES OF A FAITHFUL MAID + +IT was about five o'clock on Saturday afternoon. The funeral was over. +The unfortunate young Irish gentleman was now lying in the cemetery of +Auteuil in a grave purchased in perpetuity. His name, age, and rank +were duly inscribed in the registers, and the cause of his death was +vouched for by the English physician who had attended him at the +request of his family. He was accompanied, in going through the +formalities, by the respectable woman who had nursed the sick man +during his last seizure. Everything was perfectly in order. The +physician was the only mourner at the funeral. No one was curious about +the little procession. A funeral, more or less, excites no attention. + +The funeral completed, the doctor gave orders for a single monument to +be put in memory of Lord Harry Norland, thus prematurely cut off. He +then returned to the cottage, paid and dismissed the nurse, taking her +address in case he should find an opportunity, as he hoped, to +recommend her among his numerous and distinguished clientele, and +proceeded to occupy himself in setting everything in order before +giving over the key to the landlord. First of all he removed the +medicine bottles from the cupboard with great care, leaving nothing. +Most of the bottles he threw outside into the dust-hole; one or two he +placed in a fire which he made for the purpose in the kitchen: they +were shortly reduced to two or three lumps of molten glass. These +contained, no doubt, the mysteries and secrets of Science. Then he went +into every room and searched in every possible place for any letters or +papers which might have been left about. Letters left about are always +indiscreet, and the consequences of an indiscretion may be far-reaching +and incalculable. Satisfied at last that the place was perfectly +cleared, he sat down in the salon and continued his business +correspondence with the noble family and the solicitors. Thus engaged, +he heard footsteps outside, footsteps on the gravel, footsteps on the +doorstop. He got up, not without the slightest show of nervousness, and +opened the door. Lord Harry was right. There stood the woman who had +been his first nurse--the woman who overheard and watched--the woman +who suspected. The suspicion and the intention of watching were legible +in her eyes still. She had come back to renew her watch. + +In her hand she carried her box, which she had lugged along from the +place where the omnibus had deposited her. She made as if she were +stepping in; but the big form of the doctor barred the way. + +"Oh!" he said carelessly, "it is you. Who told you to come back?" + +"Is my mistress at home?" + +"No; she is not." He made no movement to let her pass. + +"I will come in, please, and wait for her." + +He still stood in the way. + +"What time will she return?" + +"Have you heard from her?" + +"No." + +"Did she leave orders that you were to follow her?" + +"No; none that I received. I thought--" + +"Servants should never think. They should obey." + +"I know my duty, Dr. Vimpany, without learning it from you. Will you +let me pass?" + +He withdrew, and she entered. + +"Come in, by all means," he said, "if you desire my society for a short +time. But you will not find your mistress here." + +"Not here! Where is she, then?" + +"Had you waited in London for a day or two you would, I dare say, have +been informed. As it is, you have had your journey for nothing." + +"Has she not been here?" + +"She has not been here." + +"Dr. Vimpany," said the woman, driven to desperation, "I don't believe +you! I am certain she has been here. What have you done with her?" + +"Don't you believe me? That is sad, indeed. But one cannot always help +these wanderings. You do not believe me? Melancholy, truly!" + +"You may mock as much as you like. Where is she?" + +"Where, indeed?" + +"She left London to join his lordship. Where is he? + +"I do not know. He who would answer that question would be a wise man +indeed." + +"Can I see him?" + +"Certainly not. He has gone away. On a long journey. By himself." + +"Then I shall wait for him. Here!" she added with decision. "In this +house!" + +"By all means." + +She hesitated. There was an easy look about the doctor which she did +not like. + +"I believe," she said, "that my mistress is in the house. She must be +in the house. What are you going to do with her? I believe you have put +her somewhere." + +"Indeed!" + +"You would do anything! I will go to the police." + +"If you please." + +"Oh! doctor, tell me where she is!" + +"You are a faithful servant: it is good, in these days, to find a woman +so zealous on account of her mistress. Come in, good and faithful. +Search the house all over. Come in--what are you afraid of? Put down +your box, and go and look for your mistress." Fanny obeyed. She ran +into the house, opened the doors of the salon and the dining-room one +after the other: no one was there. She ran up the stairs and looked +into her mistress's room: nothing was there, not even a ribbon or a +hair-pin, to show the recent presence of a woman. She looked into Lord +Harry's room. Nothing was there. If a woman leaves hairpins about, a +man leaves his toothbrush: nothing at all was there. Then she threw +open the armoire in each room: nothing behind the doors. She came +downstairs slowly, wondering what it all meant. + +"May I look in the spare room?" she asked, expecting to be roughly +refused. + +"By all means--by all means," said the doctor, blandly. "You know your +way about. If there is anything left belonging to your mistress or to +you, pray take it." + +She tried one more question. + +"How is my patient? How is Mr. Oxbye?" + +"He is gone." + +"Gone? Where has he gone to? Gone?" + +"He went away yesterday--Friday. He was a grateful creature. I wish we +had more such grateful creatures as well as more such faithful +servants. He said something about finding his way to London in order to +thank you properly. A good soul, indeed!" + +"Gone?" she repeated. "Why, on Thursday morning I saw him--" She +checked herself in time. + +"It was on Wednesday morning that you saw him, and he was then +recovering rapidly." + +"But he was far too weak to travel." + +"You may be quite certain that I should not have allowed him to go away +unless he was strong enough." + +Fanny made no reply. She had seen with her own eyes the man lying still +and white, as if in death; she had seen the new nurse rushing off, +crying that he was dead. Now she was told that he was quite well, and +that he had gone away! But it was no time for thought. + +She was on the point of asking where the new nurse was, but she +remembered in time that it was best for her to know nothing, and to +awaken no suspicions. She opened the door of the spare room and looked +in. Yes; the man was gone--dead or alive--and there were no traces left +of his presence. The place was cleared up; the cupboard stood with open +doors, empty; the bed was made; the curtain pushed back; the sofa was +in its place against the wall; the window stood open. Nothing in the +room at all to show that there had been an occupant only two days +before. She stared blankly. The dead man was gone, then. Had her senses +altogether deceived her? Was he not dead, but only sleeping? Was her +horror only a thing of imagination? Behind her, in the hall, stood the +doctor, smiling, cheerful. + +She remembered that her first business was to find her mistress. She +was not connected with the Dane. She closed the door and returned to +the hall. + +"Well," asked the doctor, "have you made any discoveries? You see that +the house is deserted. You will perhaps learn before long why. Now what +will you do? Will you go back to London?" + +"I must find her ladyship." + +The doctor smiled. + +"Had you come here in a different spirit," he said, "I would have +spared you all this trouble. You come, however, with suspicion written +on your face. You have always been suspecting and watching. It may be +in a spirit of fidelity to your mistress; but such a spirit is not +pleasing to other people, especially when there is not a single person +who bears any resentment towards that mistress. Therefore, I have +allowed you to run over the empty house, and to satisfy your suspicious +soul. Lady Harry is not hidden here. As for Lord Harry--but you will +hear in due time no doubt. And now I don't mind telling you that I have +her ladyship's present address." + +"Oh! What is it?" + +"She appears to have passed through Paris on her way to Switzerland two +days ago, and has sent here her address for the next fortnight. She has +now, I suppose, arrived there. The place is Berne; the Hotel ----. But +how do I know that she wants you?" + +"Of course she wants me." + +"Or of course you want her? Very good. Yours is the responsibility, not +mine. Her address is the Hotel d'Angleterre. Shall I write it down for +you? There it is. 'Hotel d'Angleterre, Berne.' Now you will not forget. +She will remain there for one fortnight only. After that, I cannot say +whither she may go. And, as all her things have been sent away, and as +I am going away, I am not likely to hear." + +"Oh I must go to her. I must find her!" cried the woman earnestly; "if +it is only to make sure that no evil is intended for her." + +"That is your business. For my own part, I know of no one who can wish +her ladyship any evil." + +"Is my lord with her?" + +"I don't know whether that is your business. I have already told you +that he is gone. If you join your mistress in Berne, you will very soon +find out if he is there as well." Something in his tone made Fanny look +up quickly. But his face revealed nothing. "What shall you do then?" +asked the doctor. "You must make up your mind quickly whether you will +go back to England or whether you will go on to Switzerland. You cannot +stay here, because I am putting together the last things, and I shall +give the landlord the key of the house this evening. All the bills are +paid, and I am going to leave the place." + +"I do not understand. There is the patient," she murmured vaguely. +"What does it mean? I cannot understand." + +"My good creature," he replied roughly, "what the devil does it matter +to me whether you understand or whether you do not understand? Her +ladyship is, as I have told you, at Berne. If you please to follow her +there, do so. It is your own affair, not mine. If you prefer to go back +to London, do so. Still--your own affair. Is there anything else to +say?" + +Nothing. Fanny took up her box--this time the doctor did not offer to +carry it for her. + +"Where are you going?" he asked. "What have you decided?" + +"I can get round by the Chemin de Fer de Ceinture to the Lyons station. +I shall take the first cheap train which will take me to Berne." + +"Bon voyage!" said the doctor, cheerfully, and shut the door. + + +It is a long journey from Paris to Berne even for those who can travel +first class and express--that is, if sixteen hours can be called a long +journey. For those who have to jog along by third class, stopping at +all the little country stations, it is a long and tedious journey +indeed. The longest journey ends at last. The train rolled slowly into +the station of Berne, and Fanny descended with her box. Her wanderings +were over for the present. She would find her mistress and be at rest. + +She asked to be directed to the Hotel d'Angleterre. The Swiss guardian +of the peace with the cocked hat stared at her. She repeated the +question. + +"Hotel d'Angleterre?" he echoed. "There is no Hotel d'Angleterre in +Berne." + +"Yes, yes; there is. I am the maid of a lady who is staying at that +hotel." + +"No; there is no Hotel d'Angleterre," he reported. "There is the Hotel +Bernehof." + +"No." She took out the paper and showed it to him--"Lady Harry Norland, +Hotel d'Angleterre, Berne." + +"There is the Hotel de Belle Vue, the Hotel du Faucon, the Hotel +Victoria, the Hotel Schweizerhof. There is the Hotel schrodel, the +Hotel Schneider, the Pension Simkin." + +Fanny as yet had no other suspicion than that the doctor had +accidentally written a wrong name. Her mistress was at Berne: she would +be in one of the hotels. Berne is not a large place. Very good; she +would go round to the hotels and inquire. She did so. There are not, in +fact, more than half a dozen hotels in Berne where an English lady +could possibly stay. Fanny went to every one of these. No one had heard +of any such lady: they showed her the lists of their visitors. She +inquired at the post-office. No lady of that name had asked for +letters. She asked if there were any pensions, and went round them +all--uselessly. + +No other conclusion was possible. The doctor had deceived her wilfully. +To get her out of the way he sent her to Berne. He would have sent her +to Jericho if her purse had been long enough to pay the fare. She was +tricked. + +She counted her money. There was exactly twenty-eight shillings and +tenpence in her purse. + +She went back to the cheapest (and dirtiest) of the pensions she had +visited. She stated her case--she had missed milady her mistress--she +must stay until she should receive orders to go on, and money--would +they take her in until one or the other arrived? Certainly. They would +take her in, at five francs a day, payable every morning in advance. + +She made a little calculation--she had twenty-eight and tenpence; +exactly thirty-five francs--enough for seven days. If she wrote to Mrs. +Vimpany at once she could get an answer in five days. + +She accepted the offer, paid her five shillings, was shown into a room, +and was informed that the dinner was served at six o'clock. + +Very good. Here she could rest, at any rate, and think what was to be +done. And first she wrote two letters--one to Mrs. Vimpany and one to +Mr. Mountjoy. + +In both of these letters she told exactly what she had found: neither +Lord Harry nor his wife at the cottage, the place vacated, and the +doctor on the point of going away. In both letters she told how she had +been sent all the way into Switzerland on a fool's errand, and now +found herself planted there without the means of getting home. In the +letter to Mrs. Vimpany she added the remarkable detail that the man +whom she had seen on the Thursday morning apparently dead, whose actual +poisoning she thought she had witnessed, was reported on the Saturday +to have walked out of the cottage, carrying his things, if he had any, +and proposing to make his way to London in order to find out his old +nurse. "Make what you can out of that," she said. "For my own part, I +understand nothing." + +In the letter which she wrote to Mr. Mountjoy she added a petition that +he would send her money to bring her home. This, she said, her mistress +she knew would willingly defray. + +She posted these letters on Tuesday, and waited for the answers. + +Mrs. Vimpany wrote back by return post. + + +"My dear Fanny," she said, "I have read your letter with the greatest +interest. I am not only afraid that some villainy is afloat, but I am +perfectly sure of it. One can only hope and pray that her ladyship may +be kept out of its influence. You will be pleased to hear that Mr. +Mountjoy is better. As soon as he was sufficiently recovered to stand +the shock of violent emotion, I put Lady Harry's letter into his hands. +It was well that I had kept it from him, for he fell into such a +violence of grief and indignation that I thought he would have had a +serious relapse. 'Can any woman,' he cried, 'be justified in going back +to an utterly unworthy husband until he has proved a complete change? +What if she had received a thousand letters of penitence? Penitence +should be shown by acts, not words: she should have waited.' He wrote +her a letter, which he showed me. 'Is there,' he asked, 'anything in +the letter which could justly offend her?' I could find nothing. He +told her, but I fear too late, that she risks degradation--perhaps +worse, if there is anything worse--if she persists in returning to her +unworthy husband. If she refuses to be guided by his advice, on the +last occasion on which he would presume to offer any device, he begged +that she would not answer. Let her silence say--No. That was the +substance of his letter. Up to the present moment no answer has been +received from Lady Harry. Nor has he received so much as an +acknowledgment of the letter. What can be understood by this silence? +Clearly, refusal. + +"You must return by way of Paris, though it is longer than by Basle and +Laon. Mr. Mountjoy, I know, will send you the money you want. He has +told me as much. 'I have done with Lady Harry,' he said. 'Her movements +no longer concern me, though I can never want interest in what she +does. But since the girl is right to stick to her mistress, I will send +her the money--not as a loan to be paid back by Iris, but as a gift +from myself.' + +"Therefore, my dear Fanny, stop in Paris for one night at least, and +learn what has been done if you can. Find out the nurse, and ask her +what really happened. With the knowledge that you already possess, it +will be hard, indeed, if we cannot arrive at the truth. There must be +people who supplied things to the cottage--the restaurant, the +_pharmacien,_ the laundress. See them all--you know them already, and +we will put the facts together. As for finding her ladyship, that will +depend entirely upon herself. I shall expect you back in about a week. +If anything happens here I shall be able to tell you when you arrive. + +"Yours affectionately, + +L. Vimpany." + + +This letter exactly coincided with Fanny's own views. The doctor was +now gone. She was pretty certain that he was not going to remain alone +in the cottage; and the suburb of Passy, though charming in many ways, +is not exactly the place for a man of Dr. Vimpany's temperament. She +would stay a day, or even two days or more, if necessary, at Passy. She +would make those inquiries. + +The second letter, which reached her the same day, was from Mr. +Mountjoy. He told her what he had told Mrs. Vimpany: he would give her +the money, because he recognised the spirit of fidelity which caused +Fanny to go first to Paris and then to Berne. + +But he could not pretend to any right to interference in the affairs of +Lord and Lady Harry Norland. He enclosed a _mandat postal_ for a +hundred and twenty-five francs, which he hoped would be sufficient for +her immediate wants. + +She started on her return-journey on the same day--namely, Saturday. On +Sunday evening she was in a pension at Passy, ready to make those +inquiries. The first person whom she sought out was the _rentier_--the +landlord of the cottage. He was a retired tradesman--one who had made +his modest fortune in a _charcuterie_ and had invested it in house +property. Fanny told him that she had been lady's-maid to Lady Harry +Norland, in the recent occupancy of the cottage, and that she was +anxious to know her present address. + +"Merci, mon Dieu! que sais-je? What do I know about it?" he replied. +"The wife of the English milord is so much attached to her husband that +she leaves him in his long illness--" + +"His long illness?" + +"Certainly--Mademoiselle is not, perhaps, acquainted with the +circumstances--his long illness; and does not come even to see his dead +body after he is dead. There is a wife for you--a wife of the English +fashion!" + +Fanny gasped. + +"After he is dead! Is Lord Harry dead? When did he die?" + +"But, assuredly, Mademoiselle has not heard? The English milord died on +Thursday morning, a week and more ago, of consumption, and was buried +in the cemetery of Auteuil last Saturday. Mademoiselle appears +astonished." + +"En effet, Monsieur, I am astonished." + +"Already the tombstone is erected to the memory of the unhappy young +man, who is said to belong to a most distinguished family of Ireland. +Mademoiselle can see it with her own eyes in the cemetery." + +"One word more, Monsieur. If Monsieur would have the kindness to tell +her who was the nurse of milord in his last seizure?" + +"But certainly. All the world knows the widow La Chaise. It was the +widow La Chaise who was called in by the doctor. Ah! there is a +man--what a man! What a miracle of science! What devotion to his +friend! What admirable sentiments! Truly, the English are great in +sentiments when their insular coldness allows them to speak. This widow +can be found--easily found." + +He gave Fanny, in fact, the nurse's address. Armed with this, and +having got out of the landlord the cardinal fact of Lord Harry's +alleged death, the lady's-maid went in search of this respectable +widow. + +She found her, in her own apartments, a respectable woman indeed, +perfectly ready to tell everything that she knew, and evidently quite +unsuspicious of anything wrong. She was invited to take charge of a +sick man on the morning of Thursday: she was told that he was a young +Irish lord, dangerously ill of a pulmonary disorder; the doctor, in +fact, informed her that his life hung by a thread, and might drop at +any moment, though on the other hand he had known such cases linger on +for many months. She arrived as she had been ordered, at midday: she +was taken into the sick-room by the doctor, who showed her the patient +placidly sleeping on a sofa: the bed had been slept in, and was not yet +made. After explaining the medicines which she was to administer, and +the times when they were to be given, and telling her something about +his diet, the doctor left her alone with the patient. + +"He was still sleeping profoundly," said the nurse. + +"You are sure that he was sleeping, and not dead?" asked Fanny, +sharply. + +"Mademoiselle, I have been a nurse for many years. I know my duties. +The moment the doctor left me I verified his statements. I proved that +the patient was sleeping by feeling his pulse and observing his +breath." + +Fanny made no reply. She could hardly remind this respectable person +that after the doctor left her she employed herself first in examining +the cupboards, drawers, _armoire,_ and other things; that she then +found a book with pictures, in which she read for a quarter of an hour +or so; that she then grew sleepy and dropped the book-- + +"I then," continued the widow, "made arrangements against his +waking--that is to say, I drew back the curtains and turned over the +sheet to air the bed"--O Madame! Madame! Surely this was +needless!--"shook up the pillows, and occupied myself in the cares of a +conscientious nurse until the time came to administer the first dose of +medicine. Then I proceeded to awaken my patient. Figure to yourself! He +whom I had left tranquilly breathing, with the regularity of a +convalescent rather than a dying man, was dead! He was dead!" + +"You are sure he was dead?" + +"As if I had never seen a dead body before! I called the doctor, but it +was for duty only, for I knew that he was dead." + +"And then?" + +"Then the doctor--who must also have known that he was dead--felt his +pulse and his heart, and looked at his eyes, and declared that he was +dead." + +"And then?" + +"What then? If a man is dead he is dead. You cannot restore him to +life. Yet one thing the doctor did. He brought a camera and took a +photograph of the dead man for the sake of his friends." + +"Oh! he took a photograph of--of Lord Harry Norland. What did he do +that for?" + +"I tell you: for the sake of his friends." + +Fanny was more bewildered than ever. Why on earth should the doctor +want a photograph of the Dane Oxbye to show the friends of Lord Harry? +Could he have made a blunder as stupid as it was uncalled for? No one +could possibly mistake the dead face of that poor Dane for the dead +face of Lord Harry. + +She had got all the information she wanted--all, in fact, that was of +any use to her. One thing remained. She would see the grave. + +The cemetery of Auteuil is not so large as that of Pere-la-Chaise, nor +does it contain so many celebrated persons as the latter--perhaps the +greatest cemetery, as regards its illustrious dead, in the whole world. +It is the cemetery of the better class. The tombs are not those of +Immortals but of Respectables. + +Among them Fanny easily found, following the directions given to her, +the tomb she was searching after. + +On it was written in English, "Sacred to the Memory of Lord Harry +Norland, second son of the Marquis of Malven." Then followed the date +and the age, and nothing more. + +Fanny sat down on a bench and contemplated this mendacious stone. + +"The Dane Oxbye," she said, "was growing better fast when I went away. +That was the reason why I was sent away. The very next day the doctor, +thinking me far away, poisoned him. I saw him do it. The nurse was told +that he was asleep, and being left alone presently discovered that he +was dead. She has been told that the sick man is a young Irish +gentleman. He is buried under the name of Lord Harry. That is the +reason I found the doctor alone. And my lady? Where is she?" + +CHAPTER LVI + +FANNY'S NARRATIVE + +FANNY returned to London. Partly, the slenderness of her resources gave +her no choice; partly, she had learned all there was to learn, and +would do no good by staying longer at Passy. + +She arrived with thirty shillings left out of Mr. Mountjoy's timely +gift. She sought a cheap lodging, and found a room, among people who +seemed respectable, which she could have for four-and-sixpence a week, +with board at a shilling a day. This settled, she hastened to Mr. +Mountjoy's hotel brimful of her news for Mrs. Vimpany. + +Everyone knows the disappointment when the one person in the world whom +you want at the moment to see and to talk with proves to be out. Then +the news has to be suppressed; the conclusions, the suspicions, the +guesses have to be postponed; the active brain falls back upon itself. + +This disappointment--almost as great as that at Berne--was experienced +by Fanny Mere at the hotel. + +Mr. Mountjoy was no longer there. + +The landlady of the hotel, who knew Fanny, came out herself and told +her what had happened. + +"He was better," she said, "but still weak. They sent him down to +Scotland in Mrs. Vimpany's care. He was to travel by quick or slow +stages, just as he felt able. And I've got the address for you. Here it +is. Oh! and Mrs. Vimpany left a message. Will you, she says, when you +write, send the letter to her and not to him? She says, you know why." + +Fanny returned to her lodging profoundly discouraged. She was filled +with this terrible secret that she had discovered. The only man who +could advise at this juncture was Mr. Mountjoy, and he was gone. And +she knew not what had become of her mistress. What could she do? The +responsibility was more than she could bear. + +The conversation with the French nurse firmly established one thing in +her mind. The man who was buried in the cemetery of Auteuil with the +name of Lord Harry Norland on a headstone, the man who had lingered so +long with pulmonary disease, was the man whose death she had witnessed. +It was Oxbye the Dane. Of that there could be no doubt. Equally there +was no doubt in her own mind that he had been poisoned by the +doctor--by Mrs. Vimpany's husband--in the presence and, to all +appearance, with the consent and full knowledge of Lord Harry himself. +Then her mistress was in the power of these two men--villains who had +now added murder to their other crimes. As for herself, she was alone, +almost friendless; in a week or two she would be penniless. If she told +her tale, what mischief might she not do? If she was silent, what +mischief might not follow? + +She sat down to write to the only friend she had. But her trouble froze +her brain. She had not been able to put the case plainly. Words failed +her. + +She was not at any time fluent with her pen. She now found herself +really unable to convey any intelligible account of what had happened. +To state clearly all that she knew so that the conclusion should be +obvious and patent to the reader would have been at all times +difficult, and was now impossible. She could only confine herself to a +simple vague statement. "I can only say that from all I have seen and +heard I have reasons for believing that Lord Harry is not dead at all." +She felt that this was a feeble way of summing up, but she was not at +the moment equal to more. "When I write again, after I have heard from +you, I will tell you more. To-day I cannot. I am too much weighed down. +I am afraid of saying too much. Besides, I have no money, and must look +for work. I am not anxious, however, about my own future, because my +lady will not forsake me. I am sure of that. It is my anxiety about her +and the dreadful secrets I have learned which give me no rest." + +Several days passed before the answer came. And then it was an answer +which gave her little help. "I have no good news for you," she said. +"Mr. Mountjoy continues weak. Whatever your secret, I cannot ask you to +communicate it to him in his present condition. He has been grieved and +angry beyond all belief by Lady Harry's decision to rejoin her husband. +It is hard to understand that a man should be so true a friend and so +constant a lover. Yet he has brought himself to declare that he has +broken off all friendly relations with her. He could no longer endure +London. It was associated with thoughts and memories of her. In spite +of his weak condition, he insisted on coming down here to his Scotch +villa. Ill as he was, he would brook no delay. We came down by very +easy stages, stopping at Peterborough, York, Durham, Newcastle, and +Berwick--at some places for one night, and others for more. In spite of +all my precautions, when we arrived at the villa he was dangerously +exhausted. I sent for the local doctor, who seems to know something. At +all events, he is wise enough to understand that this is not a case for +drugs. Complete rest and absence from all agitating thoughts must be +aimed at. Above all, he is not to see the newspapers. That is +fortunate, because, I suppose, Lord Harry's death has been announced in +them, and the thought that his former mistress is a widow might excite +him very dangerously. You will now understand why I left that message +at the hotel for you, and why I have not shown him your letter. I told +him, it is true, that you had returned without finding your mistress. +'Speak no more to me of Lady Harry,' he replied irritably. So I have +said no more. As for money, I have a few pounds by me, which are at +your service. You can repay me at some future time. I have thought of +one thing--that new Continental paper started by Lord Harry. Wherever +she may be, Lady Harry is almost sure to see that. Put an advertisement +in it addressed to her, stating that you have not heard of her address, +but that you yourself will receive any letter sent to some post-office +which you can find. I think that such an advertisement will draw a +reply from her, unless she desires to remain in seclusion." + +Fanny thought the suggestion worth adopting. After careful +consideration, she drew up an advertisement:-- + +"Fanny H. to L--H--. I have not been able to ascertain your address. +Please write to me, at the Post Office, Hunter Street, London, W.C." + +She paid for the insertion of this advertisement three times on +alternate Saturdays. They told her that this would be a more likely way +than to take three successive Saturdays. Then, encouraged by the +feeling that something, however little, had been done, she resolved to +sit down to write out a narrative in which she would set down in order +everything that had happened--exactly as it had happened. Her intense +hatred and suspicion of Dr. Vimpany aided her, strange to say, to keep +to the strictest fidelity as regards the facts. For it was not her +desire to make up charges and accusations. She wanted to find out the +exact truth, and so to set it down that anybody who read her statement +would arrive at the same conclusion as she herself had done. In the +case of an eye-witness there are thousands of things which cannot be +produced in evidence which yet are most important in directing and +confirming suspicions. The attitude, the voice, the look of a speaker, +the things which he conceals as well as the things which he +reveals--all these are evidence. But these Fanny was unable to set +down. Therefore it behoved her to be strictly careful. + +First, she stated how she became aware that there was some secret +scheme under consideration between Lord Harry and the doctor. Next, she +set down the fact that they began to talk French to each other, +thinking that she could not understand them; that they spoke of +deceiving Lady Harry by some statement which had already deceived the +authorities; that the doctor undertook to get the lady out of the +house; that they engaged herself as nurse to a sick man; that she +suspected from the beginning that their design was to profit in some +way by the death of this sick than, who bore a slight resemblance to +Lord Harry himself. And so on, following the story as closely as she +could remember, to the death of the Dane and her own subsequent +conversation with the nurse. She was careful to put in the dates, day +after day. When she had done all this--it took a good deal of time--she +bought a manuscript book and copied it all out. This enabled her to +remember two or three facts which had escaped her at the beginning. +Then she made another copy this time without names of people or place. +The second copy she forwarded as a registered letter to Mrs. Vimpany, +with a letter of which this was the conclusion: "Considering, +therefore, that on Wednesday morning I left Lord Harry in perfect +health; considering that on the Thursday morning I saw the man who had +been ill so long actually die--how, I have told you in the packet +enclosed; considering that the nurse was called in purposely to attend +a patient who was stated to have long been ill--there can be no doubt +whatever that the body in the cemetery is that of the unfortunate Dane, +Oxbye; and that, somewhere or other, Lord Harry is alive and well. + +"What have they done it for? First of all, I suppose, to get money. If +it were not for the purpose of getting money the doctor would have had +nothing to do with the conspiracy, which was his own invention. That is +very certain. Your idea was they would try to get money out of the +Insurance Offices. I suppose that is their design. But Lord Harry may +have many other secret reasons of his own for wishing to be thought +dead. They say his life has been full of wicked things, and he may well +wish to be considered dead and gone. Lots of wicked men would like +above all things, I should think, to be considered dead and buried. But +the money matter is at the bottom of all, I am convinced. What are we +to do?" + +What could they do? These two women had got hold of a terrible secret. +Neither of them could move. It was too big a thing. One cannot expect a +woman to bring her own husband--however wicked a husband he may be--to +the awful shame and horror of the gallows if murder should be +proved--or to a lifelong imprisonment if the conspiracy alone should be +brought home to him. Therefore Mrs. Vimpany could do nothing. As for +Fanny, the mere thought of the pain she would inflict upon her +mistress, were Lord Harry, through her interference, to be brought to +justice and an infamous sentence, kept her quiet. + +Meantime, the announcement of Lord Harry's death had been made. Those +who knew the family history spoke cheerfully of the event. "Best timing +he had ever done. Very good thing for his people. One more bad lot out +of the way. Dead, Sir, and a very good thing, too. Married, I believe. +One of the men who have done everything. Pity they can't write a life +of him." These were the comments made upon the decease of this young +gentleman. Such is fame. Next day he was clean forgotten; just as if he +had never existed. Such is life. + +CHAPTER LVII + +AT LOUVAIN + +NOT many English tourists go out of their way to visit Louvain, even +though it has a Hotel de Ville surpassing even that of Brussels itself, +and though one can get there in an hour from that city of youth and +pleasure. And there are no English residents at all in the place--at +least, none in evidence, though perhaps there may be some who have gone +there for the same reasons which led Mr. William Linville and his wife +to choose this spot--in order to be private and secluded. There are +many more people than we know of who desire, above all things, +seclusion and retirement, and dread nothing so much as a chance meeting +with an old friend. + +Mr. William Linville took a small house, furnished, like the cottage at +Passy, and, also like that little villa, standing in its own garden. +Here, with a cook and a maid, Iris set up her modest _menage._ To ask +whether she was happy would be absurd. At no time since her marriage +had she been happy; to live under the condition of perpetual +concealment is not in itself likely to make a woman any the happier. +Fortunately she had no time to experience the full bitterness of the +plan proposed by her husband. + +Consider. Had their scheme actually been carried out quite +successfully, this pair, still young, would have found themselves +condemned to transportation for life. That was the first thing. Next, +they could never make any friends among their own countrymen or +countrywomen for fear of discovery. Iris could never again speak to an +English lady. If they had children the risk would appear ten times more +terrible, the consequences ten times more awful. The children +themselves would have to grow up without family and without friends. +The husband, cut off from intercourse with other men, would be thrown +back upon himself. Husband and wife, with this horrible load laid upon +them, would inevitably grow to loathe and hate the sight of each other. +The man would almost certainly take to drink: the woman--but we must +not follow this line any further. The situation lasted only so long as +to give the wife a glimpse of what it might become in the future. + +They took their house, and sat down in it. They were very silent. Lord +Harry, his great _coup_ successfully carried so far, sat taciturn and +glum. He stayed indoors all day, only venturing out after dark. For a +man whose whole idea of life was motion, society, and action, this +promised ill. + +The monotony was first broken by the arrival of Hugh's letter, which +was sent in with other documents from Passy. Iris read it; she read it +again, trying to understand exactly what it meant. Then she tore it up. +"If he only knew," she said, "he would not have taken the trouble even +to write this letter. There is no answer, Hugh. There can be none--now. +Act by your advice? Henceforth, I must act by order. I am a +conspirator." + +Two days afterwards came a letter from the doctor. He did not think it +necessary to say anything about Fanny's appearance or her journey to +Borne. "Everything," he wrote, "has so far gone well. The world knows, +through the papers, that Lord Harry is dead. There will be now only the +business of claiming the money. For this purpose, as his widow is the +sole heiress and executrix, it will be necessary for her to place the +will and the policies of insurance in the hands of her husband's +lawyers, so that the will may be proved and the claims duly made. Forms +will have to be signed. The medical certificate of death and the forms +attesting the burial are already in the lawyers' hands. The sooner the +widow goes to London the better. She should write to announce her +arrival, and she should write from Paris as if she had been staying +there after her husband's death. + +"I have only to remind you, my dear Linville, that you are indebted to +me in a good round sum. Of course, I shall be very pleased to receive a +cheque for this sum in full as soon as you have touched the amount due +to you. I shall be in Paris, at the Hotel Continental, where you may +address me. Naturally, there is no desire for concealment, and if the +Insurance Companies desire any information from me I am always ready +and willing to afford it." + +Lord Harry gave this letter to his wife. + +She read it, and laid it open in her lap. + +"Must it be, Harry? Oh! must it be?" + +"There is no other way possible, dear. But really, it is nothing. You +were not at Passy when your husband died. You had been in London--you +were in Brussels--anywhere; when you arrived it was all over; you have +seen his headstone. Dr. Vimpany had him in his care; you knew he was +ill, but you thought it was a trifling matter which time would cure; +you go to the lawyers and present the will. They have the policies, and +will do everything else; you will not even have to sign anything. The +only thing that you must do is to get a complete rig-out of widow's +weeds. Mind--there will not be the slightest doubt or question raised. +Considering everything, you will be more than justified in seeing no +one and going nowhere." + +Hugh's letter breaking in upon her fool's paradise had awakened the +poor woman to her better self; she had gone so far with the fraud as to +acquiesce in it; but she recoiled with horror and shame when this +active part was forced upon her. + +"Oh, Harry!"--she burst into tears. "I cannot--I cannot. You ask me to +be a liar and a thief--oh! heavens!--a vile thief! + +"It is too late, Iris! We are all vile thieves. It is too late to begin +crying now." + +"Harry"--she threw herself upon her knees--"spare me! Let some other +woman go, and call herself your widow. Then I will go away and hide +myself." + +"Don't talk nonsense, Iris," he replied roughly. "I tell you it is far +too late. You should have thought of this before. It is now all +arranged." + +"I cannot go," she said. + +"You must go; otherwise, all our trouble may prove useless." + +"Then I will not go!" she declared, springing to her feet. "I will not +degrade myself any further. I will not go!" + +Harry rose too. He faced her for a moment. His eyes dropped. Even he +remembered, at that moment, how great must be the fall of a woman who +would consent to play such a part. + +"You shall not go," he said, "unless you like. You can leave me to the +consequences of my own acts--to my own degradation. Go back to England. +In one thing only spare me. Do not tell what you know. As for me, I +will forge a letter from you--" + +"Forge a letter!" + +It is the only way left open, giving the lawyers authority to act, and +inclosing the will. What will happen next? By whose hands the money is +to reach me I know not yet. But you can leave me, Iris. Better that you +should leave me--I shall only drag you lower." + +"Why must you forge the letter? Why not come with me somewhere--the +world is large!--to some place where you are not known, and there let +us begin a new life? We have not much money, but I can sell my watches +and chains and rings, and we shall have enough. O Harry! for once be +guided--listen to me! We shall find some humble manner of living, and +we may be happy yet. There is no harm done if you have only pretended +to be dead; nobody has been injured or defrauded--" + +"Iris, you talk wildly! Do you imagine, for one moment, that the doctor +will release me from my bargain?" + +"What bargain?" + +"Why--of course he was to be paid for the part he has taken in the +business. Without him it could never have been done at all." + +"Yes--yes--it was in the letter that you gave me," she said, conscious +that such agreements belonged to works of fiction and to police courts. + +"Certainly I have to pay him a good large slice out of the money." + +"It is fifteen thousand pounds, is it not? How much is to be paid to +the--to the doctor?" + +"We agreed that he was to have the half," said Lord Harry, laughing +lightly. "But as I thought that seven thousand five hundred pounds was +a sum of money which would probably turn his head and bring him to +starvation in a year or two, I told him that the whole amount was four +thousand pounds. Therefore he is to have two thousand pounds for his +share. And quite enough too." + +"Treachery on treachery!" said his wife. "Fraud on fraud! Would to +GOD," she added with a sigh, "that you had never met this man!" + +"I dare say it would have been better for me, on the whole," he +replied. "But then, my dear, a man like myself is always meeting people +whom it would have been better not to have met. Like will to like, I +suppose. Given the active villain and the passive consenter, and they +are sure to meet. Not that I throw stones at the worthy doctor. Not at +all." + +"We cannot, Harry," said his wife. + +"We cannot, my dear. _Bien entendu!_ Well, Iris, there is no more to be +said. You know the situation completely. You can back out of it if you +please, and leave me. Then I shall have to begin all over again a new +conspiracy far more dangerous than the last. Well, I shall not drag you +down with me. That is my resolution. If it comes to public +degradation--but it shall not. Iris, I promise you one thing." For once +he looked as if he meant it. "Death before dishonour. Death without +your name being mixed up at all, save with pity for being the wife of +such a man." + +Again he conquered her. + +"Harry," she said, "I will go." + +CHAPTER LVIII + +OF COURSE THEY WILL PAY + +THREE days afterwards a hansom cab drove to the offices of the very +respectable firm of solicitors who managed the affairs of the Norland +family. They had one or two other families as well, and in spite of +agricultural depression, they made a very good thing indeed out of a +very comfortable business. The cab contained a lady in deep widow's +weeds. + +Lady Harry Norland expected to be received with coldness and suspicion. +Her husband, she knew, had not led the life expected in these days of a +younger son. Nor had his record been such as to endear him to his elder +brother. Then, as may be imagined, there were other tremors, caused by +a guilty knowledge of certain facts which might by some accident "come +out." Everybody has tremors for whom something may come out. Also, Iris +had had no experience of solicitors, and was afraid of them. + +Instead of being received, however, by a gentleman as solemn as the +Court of Chancery and as terrible as the Court of Assize, she found an +elderly gentleman, of quiet, paternal manners, who held both her hands, +and looked as if he was weeping over her bereavement. By long practice +this worthy person could always, at a moment's notice, assume the +appearance of one who was weeping with his client. + +"My dear lady!" he murmured. "My dear lady! This is a terrible time for +you." + +She started. She feared that something had come out. + +"In the moment of bereavement, too, to think of business." + +"I have brought you," she replied curtly, "my husband's--my late +husband's--will." + +"Thank you. With your permission--though it may detain your ladyship--I +will read it. Humph! it is short and to the point. This will certainly +give us little trouble. I fear, however, that, besides the insurances, +your ladyship will not receive much." + +"Nothing. My husband was always a poor man, as you know. At the time of +his death he left a small sum of money only. I am, as a matter of fact, +greatly inconvenienced." + +"Your ladyship shall be inconvenienced no longer. You must draw upon +us. As regards Lord Harry's death, we are informed by Dr. Vimpany, who +seems to have been his friend as well as his medical adviser--" + +"Dr. Vimpany had been living with him for some time." + +--"that he had a somewhat protracted illness?" + +"I was away from my husband. I was staying here in London--on +business--for some time before his death. I was not even aware that he +was in any danger. When I hurried back to Passy I was too late. My +husband was--was already buried." + +"It was most unfortunate. And the fact that his lordship was not on +speaking terms with the members of his own family--pray understand that +I am not expressing any opinion on the case--but this fact seems to +render his end more unhappy." + +"He had Dr. Vimpany," said Iris, in a tone which suggested to the +lawyer jealousy or dislike of the doctor. + +"Well," he said, "it remains to prove the will and to make our claims +against the Insurance Office. I have the policy here. His lordship was +insured in the Royal Unicorn Life Insurance Company for the sum +of 15,000 pounds. We must not expect to have this large claim satisfied +quite immediately. Perhaps the office will take three months to settle. +But, as I said before, your ladyship can draw upon us." + +"You are certain that the Company will pay?" + +"Assuredly. Why not? They must pay." + +"Oh! I thought that perhaps so large a sum--" + +"My dear Madam"--the man who administered so much real and personal +property smiled--"fifteen thousand pounds is not what we call a very +large sum. Why, if an Insurance Company refused to pay a lawful claim +it would cut its own throat--absolutely. Its very existence depends +upon its meeting all just and lawful claims. The death being proved it +remains for the Company to pay the insurance into the hands of the +person entitled to receive it. That is, in this case, to me, acting for +you." + +"Yes--I see--but I thought that, perhaps, my husband having died abroad +there might be difficulty--" + +There might, if he had died in Central Africa. But he died in a suburb +of Paris, under French law, which, in such matters, is even more +careful and exacting than our own. We have the official papers, and the +doctor's certificate. We have, besides, a photograph of the unfortunate +gentleman lying on his death-bed--this was well thought of: it is an +admirable likeness--the sun cannot lie--we have also a photograph of +the newly erected tombstone. Doubt? Dear me, Madam, they could no more +raise a doubt as to your husband's death than if he were buried in the +family vault. If anything should remove any ground for doubt, it is the +fact that the only person who benefits by his death is yourself. If, on +the other hand, he had been in the hands of persons who had reason to +wish for his death, there might have been suspicions of foul play, +which would have been matter for the police--but not for an insurance +company." + +"Oh! I am glad to learn, at least, that there will be no trouble. I +have no knowledge of business, and I thought that--" + +"No--no--your ladyship need have no such ideas. In fact, I have already +anticipated your arrival, and have sent to the manager of the company. +He certainly went so far as to express a doubt as to the cause of +death. Consumption in any form was not supposed to be in your husband's +family. But Lord Harry--ahem!--tried his constitution--tried his +constitition, as I put it." + +He had put it a little differently. What he said was to the following +effect--"Lord Harry Norland, sir, was a devil. There was nothing he did +not do. I only wonder that he has lived so long. Had I been told that +he died of everything all together, I should not have been surprised. +Ordinary rapid consumption was too simple for such a man." + +Iris gave the lawyer her London address, obeyed him by drawing a +hundred pounds, half of which she sent to Mr. William Linville, at +Louvain, and went home to wait. She must now stay in London until the +claim was discharged. + +She waited six weeks. At the end of that time she learned from her +solicitors that the company had settled, and that they, the lawyers, +had paid to her bankers the sum of 15,000 pounds being the whole of the +insurance. + +Acting, then, on her husband's instructions, she sought another bank +and opened an account for one William Linville, gentleman, residing +abroad. She gave herself as a reference, left the usual signature of +William Linville, and paid to his account a cheque for 8,000 pounds. +She saw the manager of her own bank, explained that this large cheque +was for an investment, and asked him to let her have 2,000 pounds in +bank notes. This sum, she added, was for a special purpose. The manager +imagined that she was about to perform some act of charity, perhaps an +expiatory work on behalf of her late husband. + +She then wrote to Dr. Vimpany, who was in Paris, making an appointment +with him. Her work of fraud and falsehood was complete. + +"There has been no trouble at all," she wrote to her husband; "and +there will not be any. The insurance company has already settled the +claim. I have paid 8,000 pounds to the account of William Linville. My +own banker--who knows my father--believes that the money is an +investment. My dear Harry, I believe that, unless the doctor begins to +worry us--which he will do as soon as his money is all gone--a clear +course lies before us. Let us, as I have already begged you to do, go +straight away to some part of America, where you are certain not to be +known. You can dye your hair and grow a beard to make sure. Let us go +away from every place and person that may remind us of time past. +Perhaps, in time, we may recover something of the old peace and--can it +ever be?--the old self-respect." + +There was going to be trouble, however, and that of a kind little +expected, impossible to be guarded against. And it would be trouble +caused by her own act and deed. + +CHAPTER LIX + +THE CONSEQUENCES OF AN ADVERTISEMENT + +THE trouble was made by Iris herself. + +In this way-- + +She saw Fanny's advertisement. Her first impulse was to take her back +into her service. But she remembered the necessity for concealment. She +must not place herself--she realised already the fact that she had done +a thing which would draw upon her the vengeance of the law--and her +husband in the power of this woman, whose fidelity might not stand the +shock of some fit of jealousy, rage, or revenge for fancied slight. She +must henceforth be cut off altogether from all her old friends. + +She therefore answered the letter by one which contained no address, +and which she posted with her own hand at the General Post Office. She +considered her words carefully. She must not say too much or too +little. + +"I enclose," she said, "a bank note for ten pounds to assist you. I am +about to travel abroad, but must, under existing circumstances, +dispense with the services of a maid. In the course of my travels I +expect to be in Brussels. If, therefore, you have anything to tell me +or to ask of me, write to me at the Poste Restante of that city, and in +the course of six mouths or so I am tolerably sure to send for the +letter. In fact, I shall expect to find a letter from you. Do not think +that I have forgotten you or your faithful services, though for a +moment I am not able to call you to my side. Be patient." + +There was no address given in the letter. This alone was mysterious. If +Lady Harry was in London and the letter was posted at the General Post +Office--why should she not give her address? If she was abroad, why +should she hide her address? In any case, why should she do without a +maid--she who had never been without a maid--to whom a maid was as +necessary as one of her hands? Oh! she could never get along at all +without a maid. As for Iris's business in London and her part in the +conspiracy, of course Fanny neither knew nor suspected. + +She had recourse again to her only friend--Mrs. Vimpany--to whom she +sent Lady Harry's letter, and imploring her to lay the whole before Mr. +Mountjoy. + +"He is getting so much stronger," Mrs. Vimpany wrote back, "that I +shall be able to tell him every thing before long. Do not be in a +hurry. Let us do nothing that may bring trouble upon her. But I am sure +that something is going on--something wicked. I have read your account +of what has happened over and over again. I am as convinced as you +could possibly be that my husband and Lord Harry are trading on the +supposed death of the letter. We can do nothing. Let us wait." + +Three days afterwards she wrote again. + +"The opportunity for which I have been waiting has come at last. Mr. +Mountjoy is, I believe, fully recovered. This morning, seeing him so +well and strong, I asked him if I might venture to place in his hands a +paper containing a narrative. + +"'Is it concerning Iris?' he asked. + +"'It has to do with Lady Harry--indirectly.' + +"For a while he made no reply. Then he asked me if it had also to do +with her husband. + +"'With her husband and with mine,' I told him. + +"Again he was silent. + +"After a bit he looked up and said, 'I had promised myself never again +to interfere in Lady Harry Norland's affairs. You wish me to read this +document, Mrs. Vimpany? + +"'Certainly; I am most anxious that you should read it and should +advise upon it.' + +"'Who wrote it?' + +"'Fanny Mere, Lady Harry's maid.' + +"'If it is only to tell me that her husband is a villain,' he said, 'I +will not read it.' + +"'If you were enabled by reading it to keep Lady Harry from a dreadful +misfortune?' I suggested. + +"'Give me the document,' he said. + +"Before I gave it to him--it was in my pocket--I showed him a newspaper +containing a certain announcement. + +"'Lord Harry dead?' he cried. 'Impossible! Then Iris is free.' + +"'Perhaps you will first read the document.' I drew it out of my +pocket, gave it to him, and retired He should be alone while he read +it. + +"Half an hour afterwards I returned. I found him in a state of the most +violent agitation, without, however, any of the weakness which he +betrayed on previous occasions. + +"'Mrs. Vimpany,' he cried, 'this is terrible! There is no doubt--not +the least doubt--in my mind that the man Oxbye is the man buried under +the name of Lord Harry, and that he was murdered--murdered in cold +blood--by that worst of villains----' + +"'My husband,' I said. + +"'Your husband--most unfortunate of wives! As for Lord Harry's share in +the murder, it is equally plain that he knew of it, even if he did not +consent to it. Good heavens! Do you understand? Do you realise what +they have done? Your husband and Iris's husband may be tried--actually +tried--for murder and put to a shameful death. Think of it!' + +"'I do think of it, Heaven knows! I think of it every day--I think of +it all day long. But, remember, I will say nothing that will bring this +fate upon them. And Fanny will say nothing, Without Fanny's evidence +there cannot be even a suspicion of the truth.' + +"'What does Iris know about it?' + +"'I think that she cannot know anything of the murder. Consider the +dates. On Wednesday Fanny was dismissed; on Thursday she returned +secretly and witnessed the murder. It was on Thursday morning that Lady +Harry drove to Victoria on her return to Passy, as we all supposed, and +as I still suppose. On Saturday Funny was back again. The cottage was +deserted. She was told that the man Oxbye had got up and walked away; +that her mistress had not been at the house at all, but was travelling +in Switzerland; and that Lord Harry was gone on a long journey. And she +was sent into Switzerland to get her out of the way. I gather from all +this that Lady Harry was taken away by her husband directly she +arrived--most likely by night--and that of the murder she knew +nothing.' + +"'No--no--she could know nothing! That, at least, they dared not tell +her. But about the rest? How much does she know? How far has she lent +herself to the conspiracy? Mrs. Vimpany, I shall go back to London +to-night. We will travel by the night train. I feel quite strong +enough.' + +"I began this letter in Scotland; I finish it in London. + +"We are back again in town. Come to the hotel at once, and see us." + +So, there was now a Man to advise. For once, Fanny was thankful for the +creation of Man. To the most misanthropic female there sometimes comes +a time when she must own that Man has his uses. These two women had now +got a Man with whom to take counsel. + +"I do not ask you," said Mr. Mountjoy, with grave face, "how far this +statement of yours is true: I can see plainly that it is true in every +particular." + +"It is quite true, sir; every word of it is true. I have been tempted +to make out a worse case against the doctor, but I have kept myself to +the bare truth." + +"You could not make out a worse case against any man. It is the +blackest case that I ever heard of or read. It is the foulest murder. I +do not understand the exact presence of Lord Harry when the medicine +was given. Did he see the doctor administer it? Did he say anything?" + +"He turned white when the doctor told him that the man was going to +die--that day, perhaps, or next day. When the doctor was pouring out +the medicine he turned pale again and trembled. While the doctor was +taking the photograph he trembled again. I think, sir--I really +think--that he knew all along that the man was going to die, but when +it came to the moment, he was afraid. If it had depended on him, Oxbye +would be alive still." + +"He was a consenting party. Well; for the moment both of you keep +perfect silence. Don't discuss the timing with each other lest you +should be overheard: bury the thing. I am going to make some +inquiries." + +The first thing was to find out what steps had been taken, if any, with +insurance companies. For Iris's sake his inquiry had to be conducted +quite openly. His object must seem none other than the discovery of +Lady Harry Norland's present address. When bankers, insurance +companies, and solicitors altogether have to conduct a piece of +business it is not difficult to ascertain such a simple matter. + +He found out the name of the family solicitor, he went to the office, +sent in his card, and stated his object. As a very old friend of Lady +Harry's, he wanted to learn her address. He had just come up from +Scotland, where he had been ill, and had only just learned her terrible +bereavement. + +The lawyer made no difficulty at all. There was no reason why he +should. Lady Harry had been in London; she was kept in town for nearly +two months by business connected with the unfortunate event; but she +had now gone--she was travelling Switzerland or elsewhere. As for her +address, a letter addressed to his care should be forwarded on hearing +from her ladyship. + +"Her business, I take it, was the proving of the will and the +arrangement of the property." + +"That was the business which kept her in town." + +"Lady Harry," Mr. Mountjoy went on, "had a little property of her own +apart from what she may ultimately get from her father. About five +thousand pounds--not more." + +"Indeed? She did not ask my assistance in respect of her own property." + +"I suppose it is invested and in the hands of trustees. But, indeed, I +do not know. Lord Harry himself, I have heard, was generally in a +penniless condition. Were there any insurances?" + +"Yes; happily there was insurance paid for him by the family. Otherwise +there would have been nothing for the widow." + +"And this has been paid up, I suppose?" + +"Yes; it has been paid into her private account." + +"Thank you," said Mr. Mountjoy. "With your permission, I will address a +letter to Lady Harry here. Will you kindly order it to be forwarded at +the very earliest opportunity?" + +"Iris," he thought, "will not come to London any more. She has been +persuaded by her husband to join in the plot. Good heavens! She has +become a swindler--a conspirator---a fraudulent woman! Iris!--it is +incredible--it is horrible! What shall we do?" + +He first wrote a letter, to the care of the lawyers. He informed her +that he had made a discovery of the highest importance to herself--he +refrained from anything that might give rise to suspicion; he implored +her to give him an interview anywhere, in any part of the world--alone, +he told her that the consequences of refusal might be fatal--absolutely +fatal--to her future happiness: he conjured her to believe that he was +anxious for nothing but her happiness: that he was still, as always, +her most faithful friend. + +Well; he could do no more. He had not the least expectation that his +letter would do any good; he did not even believe that it would reach +Iris. The money was received and paid over to her own account. There +was really no reason at all why she should place herself again in +communication with these lawyers. What would she do, then? One thing +only remained. With her guilty husband, this guilty woman must remain +in concealment for the rest of their days, or until death released her +of the man who was pretending to be dead. At the best, they might find +some place where there would be no chance of anybody ever finding them +who knew either of them before this wicked thing was done. + +But could she know of the murder? + +He remembered the instruction given to Fanny. She was to write to +Brussels. Let her therefore write at once. He would arrange what she +was to say. Under his dictation, therefore, Fanny wrote as follows:-- + +"My Lady,--I have received your ladyship's letter, and your kind gift +of ten pounds. I note your directions to write to you at Brussels, and +I obey them. + +"Mr. Mountjoy, who has been ill and in Scotland, has come back to +London. He begs me to tell you that he has had an interview with your +lawyers, and has learned that you have been in town on business, the +nature of which he has also learned. He has left an important letter +for you at their office. They will forward it as soon as they learn +your address. + +"Since I came back from Passy I have thought it prudent to set down in +writing an exact account of everything that happened there under my own +observation. Mr. Mountjoy has read my story, and thinks that I ought +without delay to send a copy of it to you. I therefore send you one, in +which I have left out all the names, and put in A, B, and C instead, by +his directions. He says that you will have no difficulty in filling up +the names. + +"I remain, my dear Lady, + +"Your ladyship's most obedient and humble servant, + +"FANNY MERE." + + +This letter, with the document, was dispatched to Brussels that night. +And this is the trouble which Iris brought upon herself by answering +Fanny's advertisement. + + +CHAPTER LX + +ON THE EVE OF A CHANGE + +IRIS returned to Louvain by way of Paris. She had to settle up with the +doctor. + +He obeyed her summons and called upon her at the hotel. + +"Well, my lady," he began in his gross voice, rubbing his hands and +laughing, "it has come off, after all; hasn't it?" + +"I do not desire, Dr. Vimpany, to discuss anything with you. We will +proceed to settle what business we have together." + +"To think that your ladyship should actually fall in!" he replied. "Now +I confess that this was to me the really difficult part of the job. It +is quite easy to pretend that a man is dead, but not so easy to touch +his money. I really do not see how we could have managed at all without +your co-operation. Well, you've had no difficulty, of course?" + +"None at all." + +"I am to have half." + +"I am instructed to give you two thousand pounds. I have the money here +for you." + +"I hope you consider that I deserve this share?" + +"I think, Dr. Vimpany, that whatever you get in the future or the +present you will richly deserve. You have dragged a man down to your +own level--" + +"And a woman too." + +"A woman too. Your reward will come, I doubt not." + +"If it always takes the form of bank-notes I care not how great the +reward may be. You will doubtless, as a good Christian, expect your own +reward--for him and for you?" + +"I have mine already," she replied sadly. "Now, Dr. Vimpany, let me pay +you, and get rid of your company." + +He counted the money carefully and put it in the banker's bag in his +coat-pocket. "Thank you, my lady. We have exchanged compliments enough +over this job." + +"I hope--I pray--that we may never set eyes on you again." + +"I cannot say. People run up against each other in the strangest +manner, especially people who've done shady things and have got to keep +in the background." + +"Enough!--enough!" + +"The background of the world is a very odd place, I assure you. It is +full of interesting people. The society has a piquancy which you will +find, I hope, quite charming. You will be known by another name, of +course?" + +"I shall not tell you by what name--" + +"Tut--tut! I shall soon find out. The background gets narrower when you +fall into misery." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean, Lady Harry, that your husband has no idea whatever as to the +value of money. The two thousand that you are taking him will vanish in +a year or two. What will you do then? As for myself, I know the value +of money so well that I am always buying the most precious and +delightful things with it. I enjoy them immensely. Never any man +enjoyed good things so much as I do. But the delightful things cost +money. Let us be under no illusions. Your ladyship and your noble +husband and I all belong to the background; and in a year or two we +shall belong to the needy background. I daresay that very soon after +that the world will learn that we all belong to the criminal +background. I wish your ladyship a joyful reunion with your husband!" + +He withdrew, and Iris set eyes on him no more. But the prophecy with +which he departed remained with her, and it was with a heart foreboding +fresh sorrrows that she left Paris and started for Louvain. + + +Here began the new life--that of concealment and false pretence. Iris +put off her weeds, but she never ventured abroad without a thick veil. +Her husband, discovering that English visitors sometimes ran over from +Brussels to see the Hotel de Ville, never ventured out at all till +evening. They had no friends and no society of any kind. + +The house, which stood secluded behind a high wall in its garden, was +in the quietest part of this quiet old city; no sound of life and work +reached it; the pair who lived there seldom spoke to each other. Except +at the midday breakfast and the dinner they did not meet. Iris sat in +her own room, silent; Lord Harry sat in his, or paced the garden walks +for hours. + +Thus the days went on monotonously. The clock ticked; the hours struck; +they took meals; they slept; they rose and dressed; they took meals +again--this was all their life. This was all that they could expect for +the future. + +The weeks went on. For three months Iris endured this life. No news +came to her from the outer world; her husband had even forgotten the +first necessary of modern life--the newspaper. It was not the ideal +life of love, apart from the world, where the two make for themselves a +Garden of Eden; it was a prison, in which two were confined together +who were kept apart by their guilty secret. + +They ceased altogether to speak; their very meals were taken in +silence. The husband saw continual reproach in his wife's eyes; her sad +and heavy look spoke more plainly than any words, "It is to this that +you have brought me." + +One morning Iris was idly turning over the papers in her desk. There +were old letters, old photographs, all kinds of trifling treasures that +reminded her of the past--a woman keeps everything; the little +mementoes of her childhood, her first governess, her first school, her +school friendships--everything. As Iris turned over these things her +mind wandered back to the old days. She became again a young +girl--innocent, fancy free; she grew up--she was a woman innocent +still. Then her mind jumped at one leap to the present, and she saw +herself as she was--innocent no longer, degraded and guilty, the vile +accomplice of a vile conspiracy. + +Then, as one who has been wearing coloured glasses puts them off and +sees things in their own true colours, she saw how she had been pulled +down by a blind infatuation to the level of the man who had held her in +his fascination; she saw him as he was--reckless, unstable, careless of +name and honour. Then for the first time she realised the depths into +which she was plunged and the life which she was henceforth doomed to +lead. The blind love fell from her--it was dead at last; but it left +her bound to the man by a chain which nothing could break; she was in +her right senses; she saw things as they were; but the knowledge came +too late. + +Her husband made no attempt to bridge over the estrangement which had +thus grown up between them: it became wider every day; he lived apart +and alone; he sat in his own room, smoking more cigars, drinking more +brandy-and-water than was good for him; sometimes he paced the gravel +walks in the garden; in the evening, after dinner, he went out and +walked about the empty streets of the quiet city. Once or twice he +ventured into a cafe, sitting in a corner, his hat drawn over his eyes; +but that was dangerous. For the most part he kept in the streets, and +he spoke to no one. + +Meantime the autumn had given place to winter, which began in wet and +dreary fashion. Day and night the rain fell, making the gravel walks +too wet and the streets impossible. Then Lord Harry sat in his room and +smoked all day long. And still the melancholy of the one increased, and +the boredom of the other. + +He spoke at last. It was after breakfast. + +"Iris," he said, "how long is this to continue?" + +"This--what?" + +"This life--this miserable solitude and silence." + +"Till we die," she replied. "What else do you expect? You have sold our +freedom, and we must pay the price." + +"No; it shall end. I will end it. I can endure it no longer." + +"You are still young. You will perhaps have forty years more to +live--all like this--as dull and empty. It is the price we must pay." + +"No," he repeated, "it shall end. I swear that I will go on like this +no longer." + +"You had better go to London and walk in Piccadilly to get a little +society." + +"What do you care what I do or where I go?" + +"We will not reproach each other, Harry." + +"Why--what else do you do all day long but reproach me with your gloomy +looks and your silence?" + +"Well--end it if you can. Find some change in the life." + +"Be gracious for a little, and listen to my plan. I have made a plan. +Listen, Iris. I can no longer endure this life. It drives me mad." + +"And me too. That is one reason why we should not desire to change it. +Mad people forget. They think they are somewhere else. For us to +believe that we were somewhere else would be in itself happiness." + +"I am resolved to change it--to change it, I say--at any risk. We will +leave Louvain." + +"We can, I dare say," Iris replied coldly, "find another town, French +or Belgian, where we can get another cottage, behind high walls in a +garden, and hide there." + +"No. I will hide no longer. I am sick of hiding." + +"Go on. What is your plan? Am I to pretend to be some one else's +widow?" + +"We will go to America. There are heaps of places in the States where +no English people ever go---neither tourists nor settlers--places where +they have certainly never heard of us. We will find some quiet village, +buy a small farm, and settle among the people. I know something about +farming. We need not trouble to make the thing pay. And we will go back +to mankind again. Perhaps, Iris--when we have gone back to the +world--you will--" he hesitated--"you will be able to forgive me, and +to regard me again with your old thoughts. It was done for your sake." + +"It was not done for my sake. Do not repeat that falsehood. The old +thoughts will never come back, Harry. They are dead and gone. I have +ceased to respect you or myself. Love cannot survive the loss of +self-respect. Who am I that I should give love to anybody? Who are you +that you should expect love?" + +"Will you go with me to America--love or no love? I cannot stay here--I +will not stay here." + +"I will go with you wherever you please. I should like not to run +risks. There are still people whom it would pain to see Iris Henley +tried and found guilty with two others on a charge of fraudulent +conspiracy." + +"I wouldn't accustom myself, if I were you, Iris, to speak of things +too plainly. Leave the thing to me and I will arrange it. See now, we +will travel by a night train from Brussels to Calais. We will take the +cross-country line from Amiens to Havre; there we will take boat for +New York--no English people ever travel by the Havre line. Once in +America we will push up country--to Kentucky or somewhere--and find +that quiet country place: after that I ask no more. I will settle down +for the rest of my life, and have no more adventures. Do you agree, +Iris?" + +"I will do anything that you wish," she replied coldly. + +"Very well. Let us lose no time. I feel choked here. Will you go into +Brussels and buy a Continental Bradshaw or a Baedeker, or something +that will tell us the times of sailing, the cost of passage, and all +the rest of it? We will take with us money to start us with: you will +have to write to your bankers. We can easily arrange to have the money +sent to New York, and it can be invested there--except your own +fortune--in my new name. We shall want no outfit for a fortnight at +sea. I have arranged it all beautifully. Child, look like your old +self." He took an unresisting hand. "I want to see you smile and look +happy again." + +"You never will." + +"Yes--when we have got ourselves out of this damnable, unwholesome way +of life; when we are with our fellow-creatures again. You will forget +this--this little business--which was, you know, after all, an unhappy +necessity." + +"Oh! how can I ever forget?" + +"New interests will arise; new friendships will be formed--" + +"Harry, it is myself that I cannot forgive. Teach me to forgive myself, +and I will forget everything." + +He pressed her no longer. + +"Well, then," he said, "go to Brussels and get this information. If you +will not try to conquer this absurd moral sensitiveness--which comes +too late--you will at least enable me to place you in a healthier +atmosphere." + +"I will go at once," she said, "I will go by the next train." + +"There is a train at a quarter to two. You can do all you have to do +and catch the train at five. Iris"--the chance of a change made him +impatient--"let us go to-morrow. Let us go by the night express. There +will be English travellers, but they shall not recognise me. We shall +be in Calais at one in the morning. We will go on by an early train +before the English steamer comes in. Will you be ready?" + +"Yes; there is nothing to delay me. I suppose we can leave the house by +paying the rent? I will go and do what you want." + +"Let us go this very night." + +"If you please; I am always ready." + +"No: there will be no time; it will look like running away. We will go +to-morrow night. Besides, you would be too tired after going to +Brussels and back. Iris, we are going to be happy again--I am sure we +are." He, for one, looked as if there was nothing to prevent a return +of happiness. He laughed and waved his hands. "A new sky---new +scenes--new work--you will be happy again, Iris. You shall go, dear. +Get me the things I want." + +She put on her thick veil and started on her short journey. The +husband's sudden return to his former good spirits gave her a gleam of +hope. The change would be welcome indeed if it permitted him to go +about among other men, and to her if it gave her occupation. As to +forgetting--how could she forget the past, so long as they were reaping +the fruit of their wickedness in the shape of solid dividends? She +easily found what she wanted. The steamer of the Compagnie Generale +Transatlantique left Havre every eighth day. They would go by that +line. The more she considered the plan the more it recommended itself. +They would at any rate go out of prison. There would be a change in +their life. Miserable condition! To have no other choice of life but +that of banishment and concealment: no other prospect than that of +continual fraud renewed by every post that brought them money. + +When she had got all the information that was wanted she had still an +hour or two before her. She thought she would spend the time wandering +about the streets of Brussels. The animation and life of the cheerful +city--where all the people except the market-women are young--pleased +her. It was long since she had seen any of the cheerfulness that +belongs to a busy street. She walked slowly along, up one street and +down another, looking into the shops. She made two or three little +purchases. She looked into a place filled with Tauchnitz Editions, and +bought two or three books. She was beginning to think that she was +tired and had better make her way back to the station, when suddenly +she remembered the post-office and her instructions to Fanny Mere. + +"I wonder," she said, "if Fanny has written to me." + +She asked the way to the post-office. There was time if she walked +quickly. + +At the Poste Restante there was a letter for her--more than a letter, a +parcel, apparently a book. + +She received it and hurried back to the station. + +In the train she amused herself with looking through the leaves of her +new books. Fanny Mere's letter she would read after dinner. + +At dinner they actually talked. Lord Harry was excited with the +prospect of going back to the world. He had enjoyed his hermitage, he +said, quite long enough. Give him the society of his fellow-creatures. +"Put me among cannibals," he said, "and I should make friends with +them. But to live alone--it is the devil! To-morrow we begin our new +flight." + +After dinner he lit his cigar, and went on chattering about the future. +Iris remembered the packet she had got at the post-office, and opened +it. It contained a small manuscript book filled with writing and a +brief letter. She read the letter, laid it down, and opened the book. + +CHAPTER LXI + +THE LAST DISCOVERY + +"I SHALL like to turn farmer," Lord Harry went on talking while Iris +opened and began to read Fanny's manuscript. "After all my adventures, +to settle down in a quiet place and cultivate the soil. On market-day +we will drive into town together"--he talked as if Kentucky were +Warwickshire--"side by side in a spring cart. I shall have samples of +grain in bags, and you will have a basket of butter and cream. It will +be an ideal life. We shall dine at the ordinary, and, after dinner, +over a pipe and a glass of grog, I shall discuss the weather and the +crops. And while we live in this retreat of ours, over here the very +name of Harry Norland will have been forgotten. Queer, that! We shall +go on living long after we are dead and buried and forgotten. In the +novels the man turns up after he is supposed to be cast +away--wrecked--drowned--dead long ago. But he never turns up when he is +forgotten--unless he is Rip Van Winkle. By Gad, Iris! when we are old +people we will go home and see the old places together. It will be +something to look forward to--something to live for--eh?" + +"I feel quite happy this evening, Iris; happier than I have been for +months. The fact is, this infernal place has hipped us both +confoundedly. I didn't like to grumble, but I've felt the monotony more +than a bit. And so have you. It's made you brood over things. Now, for +my part, I like to look at the bright side. Here we are comfortably cut +off from the past. That's all done with. Nothing in the world can +revive the memory of disagreeable things if we are only true to +ourselves and agree to forget them. What has been done can never be +discovered. Not a soul knows except the doctor, and between him and +ourselves we are going to put a few thousand--What's the matter, Iris? +What the devil is the matter?" + +For Iris, who had been steadily reading while her husband chattered on, +suddenly dropped the book, and turned upon hum a white face and eyes +struck with horror. + +"What is it?" Lord Harry repeated. + +"Oh! Is this true?" + +"What?" + +"I cannot say it. Oh, my God! can this be true?" + +"What? Speak, Iris." He sprang to his feet. "Is it--is it discovered?" + +"Discovered? Yes, all--all--all--is discovered!" + +"Where? How? Give me the thing, Iris. Quick! Who knows? What is known?" + +He snatched the book from her hands. She shrank from his touch, and +pushed back her chair, standing in an attitude of self-defence-- +watching him as one would watch a dangerous creature. + +He swiftly read page after page, eager to know the worst. Then he threw +the book upon the table. + +"Well?" he said, not lifting his eyes. + +"The man was murdered--murdered!" she whispered. + +He made no reply. + +"You looked on while he was murdered! You looked on consenting! You are +a murderer!" + +"I had no share or part in it. I did not know he was being poisoned." + +"You knew when I was with you. Oh! the dead man--the murdered man--was +in the house at the very moment! Your hands were red with blood when +you took me away--to get me out of the way--so that I should not +know--" She stopped, she could not go on. + +"I did not know, Iris--not with certainty. I thought he was dying when +he came into the house. He did not die; he began to recover. When the +doctor gave him his medicine--after that woman went away--I suspected. +When he died, my suspicions were stronger. I challenged him. He did not +deny it. Believe me, Iris, I neither counselled it nor knew of it." + +"You acquiesced in it. You consented. You should have warned the--the +other murderer that you would denounce him if the man died. You took +advantage of it. His death enabled you to carry out your fraud with me +as your accomplice. With ME! I am an accomplice in a murder!" + +"No, no, Iris; you knew nothing of it. No one can ever accuse you--" + +"You do not understand. It is part of the accusation which I make +against myself." + +"As for what this woman writes," her husband went on, "it is true. I +suppose it is useless to deny a single word of it. She was hidden +behind the curtain, then! She heard and saw all! If Vimpany had found +her! He was right. No one so dangerous as a woman. Yes; she has told +you exactly what happened. She suspected all along. We should have sent +her away and changed our plans. This comes of being too clever. Nothing +would do for the doctor but the man's death. I hoped--we both +hoped--that he would die a natural death. He did not. Without a dead +man we were powerless. We had to get a dead man, Iris, I will hide +nothing more from you, whatever happens. I confess everything. I knew +that he was going to die. When he began to get well I was filled with +forebodings, because I knew that he would never be allowed to go away. +How else could we find a dead body? You can't steal a body; you can't +make one up. You must have one for proof of death. I say"--his voice +was harsh and hoarse--"I say that I knew he must die. I saw his death +in the doctor's face. And there was no more money left for a new +experiment if Oxeye should get well and go away. When it came to the +point I was seized with mortal terror. I would have given up +everything--everything--to see the man get up from his bed and go away. +But it was too late. I saw the doctor prepare the final dose, and when +he had it to his lips I saw by his eyes that it was the drink of death. +I have told you all," he concluded. + +"You have told me all," she repeated. "All! Good Heavens! All!" + +"I have hidden nothing from you. Now there is nothing more to tell." + +She stood perfectly still--her hands clasped, her eyes set, her face +white and stern. + +"What I have to do now," she said, "lies plain before me." + +"Iris! I implore you, make no change in our plans. Let us go away as we +proposed. Let the past be forgotten. Come with me--" + +"Go with you? With you? With you? Oh!" she shuddered. + +"Iris! I have told you all. Let us go on as if you had heard nothing. +We cannot be more separated than we have been for the last three +months. Let us remain as we are until the time when you will be able to +feel for me--to pity my weakness--and to forgive me." + +"You do not understand. Forgive you? It is no longer a question of +forgiveness. Who am I that my forgiveness should be of the least value +to you--or to any?" + +"What is the question, then?" + +"I don't know. A horrible crime has been committed--a horrible, +ghastly, dreadful crime--such a thing as one reads of in the papers and +wonders, reading it, what manner of wild beasts must be those who do +such things. Perhaps one wonders, besides, what manner of women must be +those who associate with those wild beasts. My husband is one of those +wild beasts!--my husband!--my husband!--and--I--I am one of the women +who are the fit companions of these wild creatures." + +"You can say what you please, Iris; what you please." + +"I have known--only since I came here have I really known and +understood--that I have wrecked my life in a blind passion. I have +loved you, Harry; it has been my curse. I followed you against the +warnings of everybody: I have been rewarded--by this. We are in hiding. +If we are found we shall be sent to a convict prison for conspiracy. We +shall be lucky if we are not tried for murder and hanged by the neck +until we are dead. This is my reward!" + +"I have never played the hypocrite with you, Iris. I have never +pretended to virtues which I do not possess. So far--" + +"Hush! Do not speak to me. I have something more to say, and then I +shall never speak to you any more. Hush! Let me collect my thoughts. I +cannot find the words. I cannot. . . Wait--wait! Oh!" She sat down and +burst into sobbings and moanings. But only for a minute. Then she +sprang to her feet again and dashed back the tears. "Time for crying," +she said, "when all is done. Harry, listen carefully; these are my last +words. You will never hear from me any more. You must manage your own +life in your own way, to save it or to spoil it; I will never more bear +any part in it. I am going back to England--alone. I shall give up your +name, and I shall take my maiden name again--or some other. I shall +live somewhere quietly where you will not discover me. But perhaps you +will not look for me?" + +"I will not," he said. "I owe you so much. I will not look for you." + +"As regards the money which I have obtained for you under false +pretences, out of the fifteen thousand pounds for which you were +insured, five thousand have been paid to my private account. I shall +restore to the Company all that money." + +"Good Heavens! Iris, you will be prosecuted on a criminal charge." + +"Shall I? That will matter little, provided I make reparation. Alas! +who shall make reparation--who shall atone--for the blood-spilling? For +all things else in this world we may make what we call atonement; but +not for the spilling of blood." + +"You mean this? You will deliberately do this?" + +"I mean every word. I will do nothing and say nothing that will betray +you. But the money that I can restore, I will restore--SO HELP ME, +GOD!" With streaming eyes she raised her hand and pointed upwards. + +Her husband bowed his head. + +"You have said all you wished to say?" he asked humbly. + +"I have said all." + +"Let me look in your face once more---so--full--with the light upon it. +Yes; I have loved you, Iris--I have always loved you. Better, far +better, for you had you fallen dead at my feet on the day when you +became my wife. Then I should have been spared--I should have been +spared a great deal. You are right, Iris. Your duty lies plainly before +you. As for me, I must think of mine. Farewell! The lips of a murderer +are not fit to touch even the hem of your garments. Farewell!" + +He left her. She heard the hall door open and shut. She would see her +husband no more. + +She went to her own room and packed a single box with necessary things. +Then she called the housemaid and informed her that she had been +summoned to return suddenly to England; she must reach Brussels at +least that evening. The woman brought a porter who carried her box to +the station; and Iris left Louvain--and her husband--for ever. + +CHAPTER LXII + +THE BOARD OF DIRECTORS + +AT a Board Meeting of the Royal Unicorn Life Insurance Company, +specially convened, the Chairman had to make a communication of a very +remarkable character. + +"Gentlemen," he said, "I call upon the Secretary, without further +introduction, to read a letter, to consider which you are called +together this day." + +"The letter," the Secretary began, "is simply headed 'Paris,' dated two +days ago." + +"Only two days ago," said the Chairman, mysteriously. "But, of course, +that means nothing. There has been plenty of time for him to change his +residence. I dare say he may be in London at our very elbow. Go on, if +you please." + +"Gentlemen"--the Secretary proceeded to read the letter. "It is now +three months since a claim was sent in to you by the firm of Erskine, +Mansfield, Denham & Co., solicitors of Lincoln's Inn Fields, for the +sum of 15,000 pounds due to the heirs of Lord Harry Norland in respect +of an insurance effected upon his life." + +"The claim, gentlemen," said the Chairman, "was duly acknowledged and +paid some weeks later. It was a heavy loss; but these things will +occur, and there seemed no reason to doubt the facts alleged, or to +dispute the claim." + +"I write this letter," the Secretary continued reading, "in order to +inform you that the claim was fraudulent, inasmuch as Lord Harry +Norland was at the time, and is still, actually living." + +Fraudulent! The man still living! At this point there was a sudden +awakening. Everybody sat up and listened with all their ears. + +"I may tell you, gentlemen," the Chairman explained, "that the writer +of this remarkable letter is none other than Lord Harry Norland +himself, We will now proceed without further interruption." + +"In conjunction with another person, I devised and carried out +successfully a plan by which I was enabled to touch at once, and +without the disagreeable necessity of previously expiring and being +buried, the whole of the money for which I was insured. Other people +have attempted the same design, I believe, but the thing has hitherto +been managed clumsily. In my own case, it has been managed with great +dexterity and artistic skill. As you will naturally be curious on a +subject which interests you so closely I have no objection to reveal +the method. It is not enough to write to your office and state that a +certain person is dead. One must be prepared with proofs of the death +should any doubt arise. No proof of death is quite satisfactory without +evidence as to the disposal of the dead body. With that object, we +procured from the Hotel Dieu a patient apparently in an advanced state +of consumption. My accomplice, being a medical man, highly recommended, +was able to do this without suspicion. We nursed him ostentatiously. +During the latter part of the illness he was nursed under the name of +Lord Harry Norland. He died. His name was entered in the official +register as Lord Harry Norland. He was buried in the cemetery at +Auteuil, near Paris, as Lord Harry Norland. A headstone marks his +grave, which is purchased in perpetuity. The doctor certified the cause +of his death, and communicated the fact to the deceased's brother, Lord +Malven, and to the deceased's solicitors. The death was also announced +to the papers. The difficulties attendant on the successful conduct of +the business are so great that you need not fear a repetition. Nobody, +in order to assist a fraud, will consent to die and lend his own body. +It is seldom, indeed, that a sick man can be found--a foreigner and +friendless--whose death will cause no curiosity and raise no questions. +Add to this, it is extremely difficult, as I have now experienced, to +find the necessary assistance without encountering the objections of +conscience." + +"Upon my word!" cried one of the Directors, "this is a most wonderful +letter. I beg your pardon. Pray go on." + +"We began very well. We buried our man under the name of Lord Harry +Norland, as I have said. The difficulty then arose as to the +presentation of the claim. It was most desirable that the claim should +be made by the person who would most naturally be the deceased's heir +and after proving his will and by his own solicitor. + +"I am married. I have no children. I have not lived on good terms with +my family. It was, therefore, quite reasonable to expect that I should +leave my wife sole heir and executrix. It was also natural that she +should go to my solicitors--the family solicitors--and ask them to +manage her affairs. + +"With this object I confessed to my wife as much of the conspiracy as +was necessary. Like many women, she possesses, in addition to every +virtue, a blessed devotion to her husband. Where he is concerned she is +easily led even from the paths of honour. I practised on that devotion; +I used all the arguments and persuasions based on that devotion +necessary to convert a woman of honour into the accomplice of a +conspiracy. In brief, I made my wife join in the fraud. She consented +to act for me, persuaded that if she did not the conspiracy would be +discovered. The business has, therefore been carried through with the +greatest success. You have paid the claim in full without question. For +me there was left the very comfortable provision of 15,000 pounds, with +the consciousness of a daring and successful swindle. Unfortunately, my +wife has now discovered that her conscience will give her no peace or +rest until full restitution of the money has been made. She has +informed me of her intention to send back without delay that part of it +which lies at her bank in her own name--that is to say, five thousand +pounds. + +"I do not suppose that, as gentlemen, you would be disposed to subject +a woman who thus desires to repair a wrong to the degradation of a +public prosecution. No useful end, in fact, will be served in so doing. +It is, in fact, in the conviction that you will take no proceedings +that I write this letter. + +"Further, as I wish my wife's scruples of conscience to be completely +set at rest, I am prepared, on an assurance that the matter will be +allowed to drop, to forward to you the remainder of the money, less two +thousand pounds, which I have reason to believe will be sent to you in +course of time. I am also prepared to instruct my wife, as my heir, in +the event of my death to make no claim on the Company; and I have +requested my solicitor to cease paying the annual premium. The Company +will, therefore, be the gainers of the whole premiums which have been +paid--namely, 300 pounds a year for ten years: that is to say, 3,000 +pounds. + +"As for myself, I will take the necessary steps as soon as you have +given me that letter of assurance. As regards the other principal in +the Conspiracy, it is hardly worth your while to search after him. I +shall be obliged if you will be so good as to acknowledge this letter +without delay, with any assurance which you may be able to make as +regards the person whom I have dragged into the affair. I send you an +address where a letter will find me. You may wish to watch the house. I +assure you beforehand that it is useless. I shall not go there.--I +remain, Gentlemen, + +"Your obedient servant, + +"HARRY NORLAND." + + +"Perhaps," said the Secretary, "it is in connection with this letter +that I have this day received a packet of bank-notes amounting in all +to the sum of five thousand pounds. The packet is endorsed 'Restitution +money.'" + +"Bank-notes, gentlemen," said the Chairman significantly, "may be +traced if necessary." + +The Directors looked at each other. This was, indeed, a very remarkable +story, and one never before brought to the notice of any Board. + +"Gentlemen," said the Chairman, "you have heard the letter; you now +have the case before you. I should like to hear your views." + +"We are likely to get most of our money back," said one of the +Directors, "it seems to me, by holding our tongues. That is the main +thing." + +"If we could get Lord Harry himself," said another, "I should say: Go +for him, but not for his wife. I wonder we ever took his life at all. +If all stories are true about him he is as bad as they make 'em. He ran +away when he was a boy, and went to sea: he was a strolling actor after +that: he went out to the States and was reported to have been seen in +the West: he has been a ship's steward: he has been on the turf. What +has he not been?" + +"We have got the money," said another; "that is the great thing. We +must remember that we should never have found out the thing unless--" + +"The Company must not compound a felony," said the Chairman. + +"Certainly not. By no means. At the same time, would any good purpose +be served by public scandal in connection with a noble House?" + +"The noble House," said another Director, who was Radical, "may very +well take came of itself. Question is, Would it do any good to anybody +if we ran in the wife?" + +"Who is she?" + +"You would expect a ruffian like Lord Harry to marry a woman like +himself. Not at all. He married a most charming creature named +Henley--Iris Henley--father very well known in the City. I heard of it +at the time. She would have him---infatuated about him--sad business. +Mr. Chairman, I submit that it is quite impossible for us to take +proceedings against this unfortunate lady, who is doing her utmost to +make restitution." + +"The Company must not compound a felony," the Chairman repeated. + +"Even if we do not get back that two thousand pounds," said the +Secretary, "the Company will lose nothing. The surrender value must be +considered." + +Then another of the Directors spoke. "We do not know where thus lady is +to be found. She is probably passing under another name. It is not our +business to hunt her down." + +"And if we found her we should have to prove the case, and her guilty +knowledge of the conspiracy," said another. "How would this precious +letter be taken as evidence? Why, we do not even know that it is true. +We might exhume the body: what would that prove after three months? We +might open up the case, and spend a heap of money, and create a great +scandal, and be none the better for it afterwards. My advice is, let +the thing drop." + +"Well, but," objected another, "suppose we admit that the man is still +living. He may die, and then there would be another claim upon us." + +"Of that," said the Chairman, "I think there need be no apprehension +whatever. You have heard his letter. But, I repeat, we must not +compound a felony!" + +"I submit, Mr. Chairman," said one who had not spoken--and he was a +barrister--"that the Company knows nothing at all about Lady Harry +Norland. We have had to deal with the firm of Erskine, Mansfield, +Denham & Co., of Lincoln's Inn Fields: and a most respectable firm too. +On their representations we paid the money. If it can be ascertained +that we have been defrauded we must look to them. If we have to +prosecute anybody it must be that respectable firm." + +"Good," said the Chairman. + +"I propose, therefore, that the Secretary write to Lord Harry Norland, +informing him that the Company have had nothing at all to do with his +wife, and do not recognise her action in any way. We shall then see +what happens, and can proceed in accordance." + +At this moment a card was brought in. It was that of Mr. Erskine +himself, senior partner in the very firm. + +He came in, old, eminently respectable, but shaken. He was greatly +shaken. "Gentlemen," he said nervously, "I hasten to bring you a +communication, a most extraordinary communication, which I have just +received. It is nothing less than a confession--a full confession--from +a person whom I had every reason to believe was dead. It is from Lord +Harry Norland." + +"We know already," said the Chairman, superior, "the main facts which +you are going to lay before us. We are met to-day in order to discuss +our action in view of these facts. There has been a conspiracy of a +very artful and ingenious character. It has been successful so far +through the action of a woman. By the action of the same woman it is +sought to make restitution. The hand of justice, however--" + +"Perhaps," said the lawyer, "you will oblige me by allowing me to read +the letter." + +"Pray read it"--the Chairman bowed--"though I do not suppose it will +add to the information we already possess." + +"Gentlemen"--the lawyer read--"You will be surprised and pained to +learn that I am not--as you were given to understand--dead; but on the +other hand, living and in the enjoyment of rude health. I see no reason +why my life should not be prolonged to threescore years and ten. + +"The claim, therefore, which you sent in to the Royal Unicorn Life +Insurance Company was fraudulent. It was the result of a deep-laid +conspiracy. You have been made the innocent accomplice of a great +crime. + +"My wife, who now knows the whole truth, is most anxious for +restitution to be made. She is about to restore that portion of the +money which lies in her name. Most of the rest will be sent back by +myself, on certain conditions. + +"In communicating the fact of my being still alive to the head of my +family you will please also to inform him that I authorise the +discontinuance of the premium. This will save the family 300 pounds a +year. This will be a solatium to him for the fact that his brother +still lives to disgrace the name. If I should die before the next +premium is due I order my heirs not to claim the money.--I remain, +Gentlemen, your obedient servant, + +"HARRY NORLAND." + + +"The premium which should have been paid under ordinary circumstances," +said the Secretary, "was due six weeks ago. The policy has therefore +expired." + +"It is a characteristic letter," said the lawyer. "Lord Harry was born +to be a trouble to his family. There has never been a time, so far as I +remember, when he was not a trouble and a disgrace. Hitherto, however, +he has avoided actual crime--at least, actual detection. Now, I +suppose, the game is up. Yet, gentlemen, the letter is not that of an +utter villain." + +"He will not be caught," observed the Chairman. "The letter is from too +cool a hand. He has prepared a retreat. I dare say by this time he is +in some safe and convenient disguise. We are only concerned--are we +not?--for the moment with the lady. She has received the money from +you. We paid it to you on your representations." + +"Observe," said the lawyer, "that the moment she learns the truth she +hastens to make restitution." + +"Humph!" said the Director, turning over Lord Harry's letter so that +the lawyer should not be able to read the contents. "Have you seen +her?" + +"I have not. I expect to do so before long. She will certainly call +upon me." + +"She will be ill-advised," said the Chairman, "if she calls upon +anybody just at present. Well, sir, I confess that I should be +sorry--every member of this Board would be sorry--to see that lady +placed in the dock beside her husband." + +"In the interests of the noble family concerned, I hope that neither of +them will be placed in the dock." + +"Do you know who is the other man--the second principal?" + +"I can guess. I do not know, however, where he is. All I know is what I +have communicated to you--the contents of this letter." + +"One would like to get hold of the other man," said the Chairman. +"Presumably he does not belong to a noble family. Well, sir, I don't +know what may be done; but this Company cannot, I repeat, compound a +felony." + +"Certainly not. Most certainly not. At present, however, you have got +very little to go upon. And unless evidence is forthcoming--" + +"We will not discuss that part of the business," said the Chairman. "A +conspiracy has been undoubtedly entered into. We may be compelled to +bring an action of some kind against your firm, Mr. Erskine. As regards +the lady, if she is guilty--" + +"No--no," said the lawyer, "upon my life! Sinned against--not guilty." + +The Chairman folded up Lord Harry's letter and gave it to the +Secretary. + +"We are much obliged to you, sir, for your prompt action. It is, of +course, only what we should have expected of your firm. Meantime, +remember that the claim was made by you, that you received the money, +and--but we will communicate with you in a few days." + +The Secretary wrote such a letter as was suggested. By return of post a +cheque was sent, signed by one William Linville, for the sum of eight +thousand pounds. The Company had, therefore, recovered thirteen out of +fifteen thousand pounds. The Secretary had another interview with Mr. +Erskine, the result of which was that the Company recovered the +remaining two thousand pounds. + +Every firm of solicitors contains its own secrets and keeps them. +Therefore, we need not inquire whether it was intended that this money +should be paid by the firm or by the noble family to which Lord Harry +Norland belonged. It is, however, certain that a few days afterwards +Mr. Hugh Mountjoy called at the office and had a long conversation with +the senior partner, and that he left behind him a very big cheque. + +The subject has never been brought before the Directors again. It was, +indeed, privately discussed, and that frequently. Perhaps the story was +whispered about outside the Board-room. These things do get about. +There has been, however, a feeling that the thing, which would have +been perfectly successful but for the conscience of a woman concerned, +might be repeated with less tender consciences, and so the Companies be +defrauded. Now the wickedness of the world is already so great that it +needs no more teaching to make it worse. On the whole, the less said +the better. + +Besides, the tragic event which happened a day or two later effectively +prevented any further step. That in itself was sufficient to wipe out +the whole business. + +CHAPTER LXIII + +A REFUGE + +IT was all over. Iris had sent in her money. She was in a small lodging +found for her by Fanny Mere, who called her cousin. She stayed indoors +all day long, afraid of stirring abroad; afraid to read the papers; +afraid that her husband was arrested on the charge of conspiracy and +fraud; afraid that some kind of hue and cry might be out after her. + +Therefore, when she heard a manly step on the stair, she started and +turned pale, expecting nothing short of an armed messenger of the law. +She never was in this danger for a single minute, but conscience made a +coward of her. + +The step was that of Hugh Mountjoy. + +"I found you out," he said, "by means of Fanny. The girl knew that she +was safe in letting me know your secret. Why are you in concealment?" + +"You cannot know all, or you would not ask me that." + +"I do know all; and again I ask, why are you in concealment?" + +"Because--Oh, Hugh--spare me!" + +"I know all, which is the reason why I cannot choose but come to see +you. Come out of this poor place; resume your own name. There is no +reason why you should not. You were not present at Passy when this +conspiracy was hatched; you got there after the funeral. You, +naturally, went to see the family solicitors. Iris, what has the +conspiracy to do with you?" It will be observed that Hugh had not read +the letter written to the Directors of the Company. + +"Do you know about the money?" + +"Certainly. You sent back all that you could--five thousand pounds. +That showed your own innocence--" + +"Hugh, you know that I am guilty." + +"The world will think that you are innocent. At any rate, you can come +out and go about without fear. Tell me, what are your plans?" + +"I have no plans. I only want to hide my head--somewhere." + +"Yes; we will talk about that presently. Meantime, I have some news for +you." + +"News? What news?" + +"Really good news. I have to tell you a thing which will surprise you." + +"Good news? What good news is there for me?" + +"Your husband has sent back the whole of the money." + +"Sent back? To the Insurance Office?" + +"All has been sent back. He wrote two letters--one to the solicitors +and the other to the Insurance Company. It is not likely now that +anything can be said, because the Directors have accepted the money. +Moreover, it appears that they might have proceeded against the lawyers +for the recovery of the money, but that they have nothing to do either +with you or with Lord Harry Norland. That is a difficult point, +however. Somebody, it seems, has compounded--or is going to compound--a +felony. I do not understand exactly what this means, or what dreadful +consequences might follow; but I am assured by the lawyers that we need +apprehend nothing more. All is over." + +Iris heaved a profound sigh. + +"Then he is safe?" she said. + +"You think of him first," said Hugh, jealously. "Yes: he is safe; and, +I do hope, gone away, out of the country, never to come back any more. +The more important thing is that you should be safe from him. As for +the doctor--but I cannot speak of the doctor with common patience. Let +him be left to the end which always awaits such men. It is to be hoped +that he will never, wherever he goes, feel himself in safety." + +"I am safe," said Iris, "not only from my husband, but from what else +beside? You know what I mean. You mean that I, as well as my husband, +am safe from that. Oh! the fear of it has never left me--never for one +moment. You tell me that I am safe from public disgrace, and I +rejoice--when I ought to sink into the earth with shame!" She covered +her face with her hands. + +"Iris, we know what you have done. We also know why you did it. What +need we say more? The thing is finished and done with. Let us never +again allude to it. The question now is--what will you do next? Where +will you live?" + +"I do not know. I have got Fanny Mere with me. Mrs. Vimpany is also +anxious to live with me. I am rich, indeed, since I have two faithful +dependants and one friend." + +"In such wealth, Iris, you will always be rich. Now listen seriously. I +have a villa in the country. It is far away from London, in the +Scottish Lowlands--quite out of the way--remote even from tourists and +travellers. It is a very lonely place, but there is a pretty house, +with a great garden behind and a stretch of sand and seashore in front. +There one may live completely isolated. I offer you that villa for your +residence. Take it; live in it as long as you please." + +"No, no. I must not accept such a gift." + +"You must, Iris--you shall. I ask it of you as a proof of friendship, +and nothing more. Only, I fear that you will get tired of the +loneliness." + +"No--no," she said. "I cannot get tired of loneliness it is all I +want." + +"There is no society at all." + +"Society? Society for me?" + +"I go to the neighbourhood sometimes for fishing. You will let me call +upon you?" + +"Who else has such a right?" + +"Then you will accept my offer?" + +"I feel that I must. Yes, Hugh; yes, with deepest gratitude." + +The next day she went down by the night-mail to Scotland. With her +travelled Mrs. Vimpany and Fanny Mere. + +CHAPTER LXIV + +THE INVINCIBLES + +THE proceedings of Lord Harry after he had sent off that cheque were +most remarkable. If he had invited--actually courted--what followed--he +could not have acted differently. + +He left London and crossed over to Dublin. + +Arrived there, he went to a small hotel entirely frequented by Irish +Americans and their friends. It was suspected of being the principal +place of resort of the Invincibles. It was known to be a house entirely +given up to the Nationalists. He made no attempt to conceal his name. +He entered the hotel, greeted the landlord cheerfully, saluted the head +waiter, ordered his dinner, and took no notice of the sullen looks with +which he was received or the scowls which followed him about the +coffee-room, where half a dozen men were sitting and talking, for the +most part in whispers. + +He slept there that night. + +The next day, still openly and as if there was nothing to fear, either +from England or from Ireland, he walked to the station and took his +ticket, paying no attention to what all the world might have seen and +understood--that he was watched. When he had taken his ticket two men +immediately afterwards took tickets to the same place. The place where +he was going was that part of Kerry where the Invincibles had formerly +assassinated Arthur Mountjoy. + +The two men who followed him--who took their tickets for the same +place--who got into the same carriage with him--were two members of +that same fraternity. It is well known that he who joins that body and +afterwards leaves it, or disobeys its order, or is supposed to betray +its secrets, incurs the penalty of death. + +On the unexpected arrival of Lord Harry at this hotel, there had been +hurriedly called together a meeting of those members then in Dublin. It +was resolved that the traitor must be removed. Lots were cast, and the +lot fell upon one who remembered past acts of kindness done by Lord +Harry to his own people. He would fain have been spared this business, +but the rules of the society are imperative. He must obey. + +It is the practice of the society when a murder has been resolved upon +to appoint a second man, whose duty it is to accompany the murderer and +to see that he executes his task. + +In the afternoon, about an hour before sunset, the train arrived at the +station where Lord Harry was to get down. The station-master recognised +him, and touched his hat. Then he saw the two other men got down after +him, and he turned pale. + +"I will leave my portmanteau," said Lord Harry, "in the cloak-room. It +will be called for." + +Afterwards the station-master remembered those words. Lord Harry did +not say "I will call for it," but "It will be called for." Ominous +words. + +The weather was cold; a drizzling rain fell; the day was drawing in. +Lord Harry left the station, and started with quick step along the +road, which stretched across a dreary desolate piece of country. + +The two men walked after him. One presently quickened his step, leaving +the second man twenty yards behind. + +The station-master looked after them till he could see them no longer. +Then he shook his head and returned to his office. + +Lord Harry walking along the road knew that the two men were following +him. Presently he became aware that one of them was quickening his +pace. + +He walked on. Perhaps his cheeks paled and his lips were set close, +because he knew that he was walking to his death. + +The steps behind him approached faster--faster. Lord Harry never even +turned his head. The man was close behind him. The man was beside him. + +"Mickey O'Flynn it is," said Lord Harry. + +"'Tis a ---- traitor, you are," said the man. + +"Your friends the Invincibles told you that, Mickey. Why, do you think +I don't know, man, what are you here for? Well?" he stopped. "I am +unarmed. You have got a revolver in your hand--the hand behind your +back. What are you stopping for?" + +"I cannot," said the man. + +"You must, Mickey O'Flynn--you must; or it's murdered you'll be +yourself," said Lord Harry, coolly. "Why, man, 'tis but to lift your +hand. And then you'll be a murderer for life. I am another--we shall +both be murderers then. Why don't you fire, man." + +"By ---- I cannot!" said Mickey. He held the revolver behind him, but +he did not lift his arm. His eyes started: his mouth was open; the +horror of the murderer was upon him before the murder was committed. +Then he started. "Look!" he cried. "Look behind you, my lord!" + +Lord Harry turned. The second man was upon him. He bent forward and +peered in his face. + +"Arthur Mountjoy's murderer!" he cried, and sprang at his throat. + +One, two, three shots rang out in the evening air. Those who heard them +in the roadside cabin, at the railway-station on the road, shuddered. +They knew the meaning of those shots. One more murder to load the soul +of Ireland. + +But Lord Harry lay dead in the middle of the road. + +The second man got up and felt at his throat. + +"Faith!" he said, "I thought I was murdered outright. Come, Mick, let +us drag him to the roadside." + +They did so, and then with bent heads and slouched hats, they made +their way across country to another station where they would not be +recognised as the two who had followed Lord Harry down the road. + +Two mounted men of the Constabulary rode along an hour later and found +the body lying where it had been left. + +They searched the pockets. They found a purse with a few sovereigns; +the portrait of a lady---the murdered man's wife--a sealed envelope +addressed to Hugh Mountjoy, Esq, care of his London hotel; and a +card-case: nothing of any importance. + +"It is Lord Harry Norland," said one. "The wild lord--he has met his +end at last." + +The letter to Iris was brief. It said: + +"Farewell! I am going to meet the death of one who is called a Traitor +to the Cause. I am the Traitor of a Cause far higher. May the end that +is already plotted for me be accepted as an atonement! Forgive me, +Iris! Think of me as kindly as you can. But I charge you--it is my +latest word--mourn not for one who has done his best to poison your +life and to ruin your soul." + +In the other letter he said: + +"I know the affection you have always entertained for Iris. She will +tell you what she pleases about the past. If she tells you nothing +about her late husband, think the worst and you will not be wrong. +Remember that whatever she has done was done for me and at my +instigation. She ought to have married you instead of me. + +"I am in the presence of Death. The men who are going to kill me are +under this very roof. They will kill me, perhaps to-night. Perhaps they +will wait for a quieter and a safer place. But they will kill me. + +"In the presence of Death, I rise superior to the pitiful jealousy with +which I have always regarded you. I now despise it. I ask your pardon +for it. Help Iris to forget the action of her life of which she has +most reason to be ashamed. Show that you forgive me--when you have +forgiven her--and when you have helped her in the warmth and strength +of your love to drive me out of your thoughts for ever. + +"H. N." + + +EPILOGUE + +IT is two years after the murder of Lord Harry Norland, the last event +connected with this history. + +Iris, when she accepted Hugh Mountjoy's offer of his Scotch villa, went +them resolved to hide herself from the world. Too many people, she +thought, knew her history, and what she had done. It was not likely +that the Directors of the Insurance Company would all hold their +tongues about a scandal so very unusual. Even if they did not charge +her with complicity, as they could, they would certainly tell the +story--all the more readily since Lord Harry's murder--of the +conspiracy and its success. She could never again, she told herself, be +seen in the world. + +She was accompanied by her friend and maid--the woman whose fidelity to +her had been so abundantly proved--and by Mrs. Vimpany, who acted as +housekeeper. + +After a decent interval, Hugh Mountjoy joined her. She was now a widow. +She understood very well what he wished to say, and she anticipated +him. She informed him that nothing would ever induce her to become the +wife of any other man after her degradation. Hugh received this +intimation without a remark. He remained in the neighbourhood, however, +calling upon her frequently and offering no word of love. But he became +necessary to her. The frequent visits became daily; the afternoon +visits were paid in the morning: the visitor stayed all day. When the +time came for Iris to yield, and he left the house no more, there +seemed to be no change. But still they continued their retired life, +and now I do not think they will ever change it again. + +Their villa was situated on the north shore of the Solway Firth, close +to the outfall of the Annan River, but on the west bank, opposite to +the little town of Annan. At the back was a large garden, the front +looked out upon the stretch of sand at low tide and the water at high +tide. The house was provided with a good library. Iris attended to her +garden, walked on the sands, read, or worked. They were a quiet +household. Husband and wife talked little. They walked about in the +garden, his arm about her waist, or hand in hand. The past, if not +forgotten, was ceasing to trouble them; it seemed a dreadful, terrible +dream. It left its mark in a gentle melancholy which had never belonged +to Iris in the old days. + +And then happened the last event which the chronicler of this history +has to relate. + +It began in the morning with a letter. + +Mrs. Vimpany received it. She knew the handwriting, started, and hid it +quickly in her bosom. As soon as she could get away to her own room she +opened and read it. + +"Good and Tender Creature,--I ascertained, a good while ago, thinking +that probably I might have to make this kind of application to you, +where you were living and with whom. It was not difficult; I only had +to connect you with Mr. Hugh Mountjoy and to find out where he lived. I +congratulate you on being so well able to take care of yourself. You +are probably settled for life in a comfortable home. I feel as happy +about it as if I had myself contributed to thus satisfactory result. + +"I have no intention of making myself more disagreeable than I am +obliged to do. Necessity, however, knows no law. You will understand me +when I tell you that I have spent all my money. I do not regret the +manner in which the money has been spent, but the fact that it has all +gone. This it is which cuts me to the heart. + +"I have also discovered that the late lamented Lord Harry, whose death +I myself have the greatest reasons to deplore, played me a scurvy trick +in regard to certain sums of money. The amount for which he was insured +was not less than 15,000 pounds. The amount as he stated it to me was +only 4,000 pounds. In return for certain services rendered at a +particular juncture I was to receive the half of the insurance money. I +only received 2,000 pounds, consequently there is still due to me the +sum of 5,500 pounds. This is a large lump of money. But Mr. Mountjoy +is, I believe, a wealthy man. He will, doubtless, see the necessity of +paying this money to me without further question or delay. + +"You will, therefore, seek his presence--he is now, I hear, at home. +You may read to him any part of this letter that you please, and you +will let him know that I am in earnest. A man with empty pockets cannot +choose but be in earnest. + +"He may very possibly object. + +"Very good. In that case you will tell him that a fraud has been +committed in connection with which I am prepared to make a full +confession. I consented, on the death of my patient, and at the earnest +entreaty of Lord Harry Norland, to represent the dead man as his +lordship. I then went away, resolving to have nothing more to do with +the further villainy which I believe was carried on to the obtaining of +the whole amount for which he was insured. + +"The murder of Lord Harry immediately afterwards caused the Company to +drop their intended prosecution. I shall reveal to them the present +residence of his widow, and shall place my evidence at their +disposition. Whatever happens I shall make the facts of the case +public. This done, nothing can hurt me; while, whether the Public +Prosecutor intervenes or not, neither Mr. Hugh Mountjoy nor his wife +can ever show face to the world again. + +"Tell Mr. Mountjoy, I say, whatever you please, except that I am +joking. You must not tell him that. I shall call to-morrow morning, and +shall expect to find the business as good as done. + +"A. V." + + +Mrs. Vimpany dropped the letter in dismay. Her husband had vanished out +of her life for more than two years. She hoped that she was effectually +hidden; she hoped that he had gone away to some far-off country where +he would never more return. Alas! This world of ours has no far-off +country left, and, even if the wicked man turneth away from his +wickedness so far as to go to the Rocky Mountains, an express train and +a swift boat will bring him back to his wickedness whenever he desires +a little more enjoyment and the society of his old friends. + +Mr. Vimpany was back again. What should she do? What would Iris do? +What would Mr. Mountjoy do? + +She read the letter again. + +Two things were obvious: first, that he had no clue of the restitution; +and, next, that he had no idea of the evidence against him for the +murder of the Dane. She resolved to communicate the latter fact only. +She was braver now than she had been formerly. She saw more clearly +that the way of the wicked man is not always so easy for him. If he +knew that his crime could be brought home to him; that he would +certainly be charged with murder if he dared to show himself, or if he +asked for money, he would desist. Before such a danger the most +hardened villain would shrink. + +She also understood that it was desirable to hide from him the nature +of the evidence and the name of the only witness against him. She would +calmly tell him what would happen, and bid him begone, or take the +consequences. + +Yet even if he were driven off he would return. She would live +henceforth in continual apprehension of his return. Her tranquillity +was gone. + +Heavens! That a man should have such power over the lives of others! + +She passed the most wretched day of her whole life. She saw in +anticipation the happiness of that household broken up. She pictured +his coming, but she could not picture his departure. For she had never +seen him baffled and defeated. + +He would come in, big, burly, with his farmer-like manner confident, +bullying, masterful. He would ask her what she had done; he would swear +at her when he learned that she had done nothing; he would throw +himself into the most comfortable chair, stretch out his legs, and +order her to go and fetch Mr. Mountjoy. Would she be subdued by him as +of old? Would she find the courage to stand up to him? For the sake of +Iris--yes. For the sake of the man who had been so kind to her--yes. + +In the evening, the two women--Mrs. Vimpany and Fanny--were seated in +the housekeeper's room. Both had work in their laps: neither was doing +any work. The autumnal day had been boisterous; the wind was getting +higher. + +"What are you thinking of?" asked Fanny. + +"I was thinking of my husband. If he were to come back, Fanny--if he +were to threaten--" + +"You would loose my tongue--you would let me speak?" + +"Yes; for her sake. I would have shielded him once---if I could. But +not now. I know, at last, that there is no single good thing left in +him." + +"You have heard from him. I saw the letter this morning, in the box. I +knew the handwriting. I have been waiting for you to speak." + +"Hush! Yes, Fanny; I have heard from him. He wants money. He will come +here to-morrow morning, and will threaten Mr. Mountjoy. Keep your +mistress in her own room. Persuade her to lie in bed--anything." + +"He does not know what I have seen. Charge him with the murder of the +Dane. Tell him," said Fanny, her lips stiffening, that if he dares to +come again--if he does not go away--he shall be arrested for murder. I +will keep silence no longer!" + +"I will--I am resolved! Oh! who will rid us of this monster?" + +Outside, the gale rose higher--higher still. They heard it howling, +grinding branches together; they heard the roaring and the rushing of +the waters as the rising tide was driven over the shallow sands, like a +mountain reservoir at loose among the valleys below. + +In the midst of the tempest there came a sudden lull. Wind and water +alike seemed hushed. And out of the lull, as if in answer to the +woman's question, there came a loud cry--the shriek of a man in deadly +peril. + +The two women caught each other by the hand and rushed to the window. +They threw it open; the tempest began again; a fresh gust drove them +back; the waters roared: the wind howled; they heard the voice no more. +They closed the window and put up the shutters. + +It was long past midnight when they dared to go to bed. One of them lay +awake the whole night long. In the roaring tempest she had seen an omen +of the wrath of Heaven about to fall once more upon her mistress. + +She was wrong. The wrath of Heaven fell upon one far more guilty. + +In the morning, with the ebbing tide, a dead body was found lashed to +the posts of one of the standing nets in the Solway. It was recognised +by Hugh, who went out to look at it, and found it the body of Vimpany. + +Whether he was on his way back to Annan, or whether he intended to call +at the villa that evening instead of next morning, no one can tell. His +wife shed tears, but they were tears of relief. The man was buried as a +stranger. Hugh kept his counsel. Mrs. Vimpany put the letter in the +fire. Neither of them thought it wise to disturb the mind of Iris by +any mention of the man. Some days later, however, Mrs. Vimpany came +downstairs in a widow's cap. + +To Iris's look of interrogation she replied calmly, "Yes, I heard the +other day. He is dead. Is it not better--even for him, perhaps--that he +should be dead? He can do no more wickedness; he can bring misery into +no more households. He is dead." + +Iris made no reply. Better--better far--that he was dead. But how she +had been delivered from the man, to what new dangers she had been +exposed, she knew not, and will never know. + +She has one secret--and only one--which she keeps from her husband. In +her desk she preserves a lock of Lord Harry's hair. Why? I know not. +Blind Love doth never wholly die. + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Blind Love, by Wilkie Collins + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLIND LOVE *** + +This file should be named blind10.txt or blind10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, blind11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, blind10a.txt + +Produced by James Rusk + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03 + +Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + diff --git a/old/blind10.zip b/old/blind10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ebadfa5 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/blind10.zip |