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The Great Secret, a fiction by E. Phillips Oppenheim |
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CHAPTER XIII. THE SHADOW DEEPENS |
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_ "Mr. Courage!" I looked up quickly. She was within a few feet of me, although I had not heard even the rustling of her gown. The dog, with his apple-green bow now put to rights, was sitting upon her shoulder. By the side of his uncanny features, it seemed to me that I had never sufficiently appreciated the fresh girlishness, the almost ingenuous beauty of her own face. She wore a plain, white, linen gown, and a magnificent blossom of scarlet geraniums in her bosom. "Miss Van Hoyt!" I exclaimed. She nodded, but glanced warningly at the window. "They must not hear," she said softly. "Remember your cousin introduced you to me at Lord's--our only meeting." My heart sank. I hated all this incomprehensible secrecy; a moment before she had seemed so different. "Come out into the other room," she said. "They cannot hear us from there." We passed into the drawing-room. An uncomfortable thought struck me. "You were here all the time!" I exclaimed. "Certainly! I wanted to hear you and Lady Dennisford converse!" "Eavesdropping, in fact," I remarked savagely. "Precisely!" she agreed. We were silent for a moment. Her eyes were full of mild amusement. "I thought," she said demurely, "that you would be glad to see me." "Glad! of course I am glad," I answered. "I'm such a poor fool that I can't help it. Why did you leave me in London without a word?" "Why on earth not!" she exclaimed, smiling. "Besides, I knew that I should see you here very soon. I had to act quickly too! They did not want"--she glanced towards the terrace--"him to leave London." "It was you, then," I remarked, "who had him sent down to my place?" She nodded. "It was not easy," she said. "If they had known that you were going to have a doctor to visit him, it would have been impossible." "He has been poisoned, I suppose?" I said calmly. She shrugged her shoulders. "He will die, and die very soon," she answered. "That is certain. But I think you will find no doctor here who will have anything to say about poison." She moved a little nearer to me. The overhanging bunch of scarlet geraniums from her waistband brushed against my coat; the beady black eyes of the dog upon her shoulder were fixed steadily upon me. "Has he said anything?" she murmured. "Not yet," I answered. "He will do so," she declared confidently, "and before long. That is why I am here. You must come to me the moment--the very moment you know! You understand that?" "Yes!" I answered, a little discontentedly, "I understand!" Her expression suddenly changed. A frown darkened her face. "Perhaps," she said, "you have already repented." "Repented of what?" I asked quickly. "That you have moved a little out of the rut, that you have taken a hand, even if it is a dummy's hand, in the game of life! Do you wish to draw back?" "No!" I answered. "Do you wish to be relieved of Leslie Guest? I could arrange it; it would be a matter of a few hours only." "No!" I answered again. "I wish for one thing only!" "And that?" "You know!" I declared. She turned a little way from me. "I am not a magician," she declared. "And yet you know," I answered. "A woman always does! I have no idea what these ties are, which seem to bind you to a life of mystery and double-dealing, but I should like to cut them loose. You have talked to me of ambition, of a larger life, where excitement and tragedy walk hand in hand! I should like to sweep all that away. I should like to convert you to my point of view." She looked at me curiously. Never in my experience of her sex had I seen any one who varied so quickly in appearance, who seemed to pass with such effortless facility from the girl with the Madonna-like face and dreamy eyes, to the thoughtful and scheming woman of the world. Her rapid changes were a torture to me! I felt the elusiveness of her attitude. "You would like me," she said scornfully, "to lead your village life, to watch the seasons pass from behind your windows. I was not born for that sort of thing! The thirst for life was in my veins from the nursery. You and I are as far apart as the North Star and the unknown land over which it watches! Sin itself would be less terrible to me than the indolence of such a life!" "You have never tried it," I remarked. "Nor shall I ever," she answered, "unless--" "Unless what?" She raised her eyebrows and flashed a sudden strange look upon me. There was mockery in it, subtlety, and a certain uneasiness which pleased me most. After all, she was like a beautiful wild young creature. The ways of her life were not yet wholly decreed. "Unless the great magician comes and waves his wand," she declared. "The magic may fall upon my eyes, you know, and I may see new things." I touched her hand for a moment. The dog's face was wrinkled like a monkey's, he growled, and his narrow red tongue shot out threateningly. "It is that," I murmured, "which I shall pray for!" She raised her head suddenly. We heard Lady Dennisford moving upon the terrace. She leaned over towards me. "Leslie Guest," she whispered, "will not live for more than forty-eight hours. Make him tell you--to-night! To-morrow may be too late. Do you hear?--to-night!" I was absolutely tongue-tied. Wherever else she failed, she was certainly a superb actress. A moment ago, she had been keeping my earnestness at bay with bantering words; then, at the sound of Lady Dennisford's approach, had come those few dramatic words; and now, at her entrance, I felt at once that I was the casual guest, being entertained as a matter of duty during my hostess' absence. "I told you, didn't I, that I had met Mr. Courage in town?" she remarked, looking up. "After all, it is such a small world, isn't it?" Lady Dennisford was scarcely in a condition to be observant. I believe that if we had been sitting hand in hand, she would scarcely have noticed the fact. She was very pale, and her eyes were exceedingly bright. She passed half-way through the room without even seeming to realize our presence. Then she stopped suddenly and addressed me. "I am ordering a pony-cart," she said, "to take Mr. Guest back. He seems over-fatigued." "Very thoughtful of you, Lady Dennisford," I answered. "We certainly did not mean to walk so far when we came out into the park." A servant entered the room. She gave him some orders, and then, with a word of excuse to Adele, she came over to my side. "Hardross," she said softly, "what is the matter with him?" "General breakdown," I answered; "I do not know of anything else." "What does the doctor say?" "The London doctor," I admitted, "gave little hope. Rust cannot discover that anything much is the matter with him." "You yourself--what do you think?" I hesitated. Her fingers gripped my arm. "I think that he is very ill," I answered. "Dying?" "I should not be surprised." She looked back towards the terrace. Her eyes were full of tears. "Do what you can for him," she said softly. "He was once a great friend of mine. He was different then! Will you go out to him now? I promised to send you." Guest was sitting upon the terrace, exactly as I had left him. His eyes were fixed upon vacancy, his lips were slightly curled in a meditative smile. There was a distinct change in his appearance. His expression was more peaceful, the slight restlessness had disappeared from his manner. But he had never looked to me more like a dying man. "Lady Dennisford sent me out," I remarked, "She has ordered a pony-cart to take us home." He nodded. "I am quite ready," he said. He tried to rise, but the effort seemed too much for him. I hastened to his aid, or I think that he would have fallen. He leaned on my arm heavily as we passed on our way to the avenue, where a carriage was already awaiting us. "I was once," he remarked, in an ordinary conversational tone, "engaged to be married to Lady Dennisford." "There was no--disagreement between you?" I asked. "None that has not been healed," he answered softly. "You would consider her to-day as a friend--not a likely enemy?" I asked. He looked at me curiously. "She is my friend," he answered softly. "Of that there is no doubt at all. Why do you ask?" "Because," I answered, "for your friend, she has a strange guest." "Whom do you mean?" he asked. "Mademoiselle, and her maid--and poodle," I answered. "They are all here!" I felt him shiver, for he was leaning heavily upon me. Nevertheless, he answered me with confidence. "It is the gathering of the jackals," he muttered--"the jackals who are going to be disappointed. But you may be sure of one thing, my friend. The young lady is here as an ordinary guest! That was a matter very easy to arrange. There is a great social backing behind her. She can come and go where she pleases. But Lady Dennisford's knowledge of her is wholly innocent." We drove back almost in silence. Rust was waiting for us when we arrived, and he eyed his patient curiously, and hurried him off to the house. They were alone together for some time, and when he came out his face was very grave. He came out into the garden in search of me! "Courage," he said, "I wish to heavens I had never seen your guest!" "What do you mean?" I asked. "Have you been quarrelling?" "Quarrelling, no! One doesn't quarrel with a dying man," he answered. "A dying man!" I repeated. He nodded. "He was on the verge of a collapse just now," he said. "I honestly fear that he will not live many more hours. Yet, though I could fill in his death certificate plausibly enough, if you were to ask me honestly to-day what was the matter with him, I could not tell you. Do you mind if I wire for a friend of mine to come down and see him?" "By all means," I answered; "you mean a specialist, I suppose?" "Yes!" "On the heart?" I asked. "No! a toxicologist!" Rust remarked dryly. I glanced into his face. He was in deadly earnest. "You believe--" "What the devil is one to believe?" the doctor exclaimed irritably. "The man is sound, but he is dying. If I told you that I understood his symptoms, I should be a liar. I can think only of one thing. You yourself gave me the idea." "Wire by all means," I said. "I shall go to the village," Rust said, "and return immediately. Don't let him be left alone. He has a draught to take in case of necessity." I turned back to the house with a sigh. I am afraid that I had as little faith in medicine as Guest himself. _ |
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