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The Betrayal, a novel by E. Phillips Oppenheim |
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Chapter 10. An Expression Of Confidence |
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_ CHAPTER X. AN EXPRESSION OF CONFIDENCE I have no exact recollection of how long I spent in that little room. After a while I closed the door safe, and reset the combination lock with trembling fingers. Then I searched all round, but could find no traces of any recent intruder. I undid the heavy shutters, and let in a stream of sunshine. Outside, Ray and Lady Angela were strolling up and down the terrace. I watched the latter with fascinated eyes. It was from her that this strange warning had come to me, this warning which as yet was only imperfectly explained. What did she know? Whom did she suspect? Was it possible that she, a mere child, had even the glimmering of a suspicion as to the truth? My eyes followed her every movement. She walked with all the lightsome grace to which her young limbs and breeding entitled her, her head elegantly poised on her slender neck, her face mostly turned towards her companion, to whom she was talking earnestly. Even at this distance I seemed to catch the inspiring flash of her dark eyes, to follow the words which fell from her lips so gravely. And as I watched a new idea came to me. I turned slowly away and went in search of the Duke. I found him sitting fully dressed in an anteroom leading from his bedroom, with a great pile of letters before him, and an empty postbag. He was leaning forward, his elbow upon the table, his head resting upon his right hand. Engrossed as I was with my own terrible discovery, I was yet powerfully impressed by his unfamiliar appearance. In the clear light which came flooding in through the north window he seemed to me older, and his face more deeply lined than any of my previous impressions of him had suggested. His eyes were fixed upon the mass of correspondence before him, most of which was as yet unopened, and his expression was one of absolute aversion. At my entrance he looked up inquiringly. "What do you want, Ducaine?" he asked. "I am sorry to have disturbed your Grace," I answered. "I have come to place my resignation in your hands." His face was expressive enough in its frowning contempt, but he said nothing for a moment, during which his eyes met mine mercilessly. "So you find the work too hard, eh?" he asked. "The work is just what I should have chosen, your Grace," I answered. "I like hard work, and I expected it. The trouble is that I have succeeded no better than Lord Ronald." My words were evidently a shock to him. He half opened his lips, but closed them again. I saw the hand which he raised to his forehead shake. "What do you mean, Ducaine? Speak out, man." "The safe in the study has been opened during the night," I said. "Our map of the secret fortifications on the Surrey downs and plans for a camp at Guilford have been examined." "How do you know this?" "I tied the red tape round them in a peculiar way. It has been undone and retied. The papers have been put back in a different order." The Duke was without doubt agitated. He rose from his chair and paced the room restlessly. "You are sure of what you say, Ducaine?" he demanded, turning, and facing me suddenly. "Absolutely sure, your Grace," I answered. He turned away from me. "In my own house, under my own roof," I heard him mutter. "Good God!" I had scarcely believed him capable of so much feeling. When he resumed his seat and former attitude I could see that his face was almost gray. "This is terrible news," he said. "I am not at all sure, though, Mr. Ducaine, that any blame can attach itself to you." "Your Grace," I answered, "there were three men only who knew the secret of that combination. One is yourself, another Colonel Ray, the third myself. I set the lock last night. I opened it this morning. I ask you, in the name of common sense, upon whom the blame is likely to fall? If I remain this will happen again. I cannot escape suspicion. It is not reasonable." "The word was a common one," the Duke said half to himself. "Some one may have guessed it." "Your Grace," I said, "is it likely that any one would admit the possibility of such a thing?" "It may have been overheard." "It has never been spoken," I reminded him. "It was written down, glanced at by all of us, and destroyed." The Duke nodded. "You are right," he admitted. "The inference is positive enough. The safe has been opened between the hours of ten at night and seven o'clock this morning by--" "By either myself, Colonel Ray, or your Grace," I said. "I am not sure that I am prepared to admit that," the Duke objected quietly. "It is inevitable!" I declared. "Only the very young use that word," the Duke said drily. "I spoke only of what others must say," I answered. "It is a _cul de sac_, I admit," the Duke said. "Nevertheless, Mr. Ducaine, I am not prepared without consideration to accept your resignation. I cannot see that our position would be improved in any way, and in my own mind I may add that I hold you absolved from suspicion." I held myself a little more upright. The Duke spoke without enthusiasm, but with conviction. "Your Grace is very kind," I answered gratefully, "but there are the others. They know nothing of me. It is inevitable that I should become an object of suspicion to them." The Duke looked thoughtfully for several moments at the table before him. Then he looked up at me. "Ducaine," he said, "I will tell you what I propose. You have done your duty in reporting this thing to me. Your duty ends there--mine begins. The responsibility, therefore, for our future course of action remains with me. You, I presume, are prepared to admit this." "Certainly, your Grace," I answered. "I see no useful purpose to be gained," the Duke continued, "in spreading this thing about. I believe that we shall do better by keeping our own counsel. You and I can work secretly in the matter. I may have some suggestions to make when I have considered it more fully; but for the present I propose that we treat the matter as a hallucination of yours. We shall hear in due course if this stolen information goes across the water. If it does--well, we shall know how to act." "You mean this?" I asked breathlessly. "Forgive me, your Grace, but it means so much to me. You believe that we are justified?" "Why not?" the Duke asked coldly. "It is I who am your employer. It is I who am responsible to the country for these things. You are responsible only to me. I choose that you remain. I choose that you speak of this matter only when I bid you speak." To me it was relief immeasurable. The Duke's manner was precise, even cold. Yet I felt that he believed in me. I scarcely doubted but that he had suspicions of his own. I, at any rate, was not involved in them. I could have wrung him by the hand but for the inappropriateness of such a proceeding. So far as he was concerned I could see that the matter was already done with. His attention was beginning to wander to the mass of letters before him. "Would you allow me to help your Grace with your correspondence?" I suggested. "I have no work at present." The Duke shook his head impatiently. "I thank you," he said. "My man of business will be here this morning, and he will attend to them. I will not detain you, Mr. Ducaine." I turned to leave the room, but found myself face to face with a young man in the act of entering it. "Blenavon!" the Duke exclaimed. "How are you, sir?" the newcomer answered. "Sorry I didn't arrive in time to see you last night. We motored from King's Lynn, and the whole of this respectable household was in bed." I knew at once who he was. The Duke looked towards me. "Ducaine," he said, "this is my son, Lord Blenavon." Lord Blenavon's smile was evidently meant to be friendly, but his expression belied it. He was slightly taller than his father, and his cast of features was altogether different. His cheeks were pale, almost sunken, his eyes were too close together, and they had the dimness of the _roue_ or the habitual dyspeptic. His lips were too full, his chin too receding, and he was almost bald. "How are you, Mr. Ducaine?" he said. "Awful hour to be out of bed, isn't it? and all for the slaying of a few fat and innocent birds. Let me see, wasn't I at Magdalen with you?" "I came up in your last year," I reminded him. "Ah, yes, I remember," he drawled. "Terrible close worker you were, too. Are you breakfasting down stairs, sir?" "I think that I had better," the Duke said. "I suppose you brought some men with you?" "Half a dozen," Lord Blenavon answered, "including his Royal Highness." The Duke thrust all his letters into his drawer, and locked them up with a little exclamation of relief. "I will come down with you," he said. "Mr. Ducaine, you will join us." I would have excused myself, for indeed I was weary, and the thought of a bath and rest at home was more attractive. But the Duke had a way of expressing his wishes in a manner which it was scarcely possible to mistake, and I gathered that he desired me to accept his invitation. We all descended the stairs together. _ |
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