A Double Knot Part 68

GLEN'S DEFENDER.

Marcus Glen could hardly recall exactly what happened upon that unlucky night; but Clotilde's words rang still in his ears, and even as they seemed to throb in his brain, there was a burst of light that seemed to cut the semi-darkness where they stood--the boudoir doors being thrown open--and with the light came a burst of conversation and music from the inner rooms.

Those sounds seemed to be mingled with the furious oath uttered by Elbraham, who was upon the step with Lord Henry Moorpark, and Marie close behind.

It was like some situation in a comedy drama, and before he could recover from his surprise he felt a sharp blow across his face, and a tiny jet of blood spurting from the puncture made by the point of a brilliant where it had entered his temple.

"How dare you! Elbraham! Husband! Protect me from this man."

"Protect you? By Gad I will," roared the financier, throwing his arm round his wife's waist, whilst, flushed and angry, she began to sob.

"That man--that wicked man! Oh, it is shameful!"

"Look here, Moorpark," cried Elbraham savagely, as Clotilde, after gazing furiously at Glen, hid her face upon her husband's shoulder, "you are a witness. By Gad I'll have an action against him--I'll have him in the Divorce Court. I'll--"

"Hush, hush, my good sir!" whispered Lord Henry, who looked for the moment horror-stricken, but recovered directly sufficiently to close the door leading into the great conservatory.

"But I'll--but I'll--" cried Elbraham, foaming at the mouth with rage and jealousy.

"Hush, sir, pray: for your wife and her sister's sake," said Lord Henry, with dignity.

"But," panted Elbraham, struggling to speak, and shaking his fist at Glen, who stood there biting his lip, and frowning.

"Silence, sir!" cried Lord Henry with authority; "recollect you are a gentleman. Captain Glen, I beg and desire that you leave this house at once."

"Gentlemen!" exclaimed Glen, flushing with excitement; and the words of explanation were upon his lips, but he stopped short and took a step as if to go, but turned back. "Look here, Lord Henry," he said.

Then he stopped short, choking, sickened with disgust. He could not--he would not speak.

"You had better leave at once, Captain Glen," said Lord Henry haughtily.

"There must be no scandal here. You have insulted--"

"Insulted!" panted Elbraham; "by Gad, sir--"

"Mr Elbraham, for your own and your lady's sake be silent and calm yourself, or the guests will learn what has occurred. If you demand satisfaction afterwards, sir, you can do so, though duels are out of fashion."

"Satisfaction!" cried Elbraham. "By Gad I'll have heavy damages--heavy damages!" he reiterated, with the foggy notion still in his brain that this was a case in which he could proceed against Glen in the Divorce Court.

"We will discuss that afterwards, sir," said Lord Henry coldly. "Mrs Elbraham, there are some of your guests approaching. Marie, my child, lead your sister into the next room; she has been a little faint.

Elbraham, recollect yourself."

"All right, my lord; I'm calm enough. But let this blackguard go at once."

Glen started, and he was turning furiously upon the financier, when he saw Marie slowly approaching her sister with a look almost of loathing in her countenance, and he took a couple of steps towards her.

"Marie, for heaven's sake hear me!" he whispered; but even as he spoke he saw Clotilde turn and glare at him with so fierce a look that he was again silenced.

Then Lord Henry threw open the door, the strains of music and the brilliant light flashed into the conservatory, and Clotilde seemed to recover herself, and laid her hand upon her husband's arm.

"Take me away," she said hoa.r.s.ely; but, seeing that Marie did not move, she restrained her lord, whose face was just turning back from purple to red, and seemed to be waiting for her sister to leave.

"Will you take me back into the drawing-room, Lord Henry?" said a voice then that sounded quite strange to all present, and mastering her emotion, but looking deadly pale, Marie suffered Lord Henry to lead her away without one glance at Glen, who stood there feeling as if a hand were constricting his throat.

The next moment Elbraham favoured him with a melodramatic scowl, and marched out with Clotilde's white arm resting, laden with glittering bracelets, upon his black coat-sleeve, and her face fixed, as if of marble, as she gazed straight before her.

"He will not betray me," she thought to herself, "and he will forgive me the next time we meet."

She might have altered her opinion if she had heard his words, though perhaps they would have made her feel more satisfied as regarded her own position.

"Curse the woman for a Jezebel!" cried Glen between his teeth, as he clutched a handful of the rich leaf.a.ge of a palm and crushed it in his fingers.

"Was ever poor wretch meshed before in such a net? If ever I forgive her this--Well, what is it?"

"Alone!" cried d.i.c.k. "I thought I saw Marie come in here while I was dancing."

"Yes," said Glen, trying to crush down his emotion; "she did come here, and she is gone."

"For a _tete-a-tete_. Curse it all, Glen! you are too bad. Have some honesty in you!"

"Hold your tongue!" said Glen, bringing his hand down fiercely upon the boy's shoulder, which he clutched with so tremendous a grip that the lad winced and uttered a cry of pain. "Don't speak to me. Take me back."

"Are you ill? What is the matter? There's blood on your face. Hang it all! you hurt me. What has been wrong? Has Marie refused you?"

"Will you be silent?"

"No," said the boy with spirit; "I will know. I saw Marie come in here.

What has happened? Have you been playing some--"

"Rehearsing only!" cried Glen, with a forced laugh.

"Rehearsing! Are they going to have amateur theatricals?"

"No, no: real--a social comedy," cried Glen.

"A social comedy! I say, old man, haven't you had too much champagne?

But are they going to act something? I should like to be in it. What is the piece?"

"The scapegoat!" cried Glen, with a laugh; "and I play the goat."

"Look here, old man, I'll see you into a cab. Let's get out this way.

I've a couple more dances I must have before I go. I wouldn't go back into the drawing-room if I were you. Come along."

With his senses seeming to reel, Glen took the arm offered to him, and allowed himself to be led out into the hall, d.i.c.k helping him on with his coat and seeing him in a hansom before returning to the drawing-room, where the band was playing another waltz.

He intended to find Marie and secure her for a partner; but the dance was nearly ended before he found her, looking, as he thought, more beautiful than ever, but very strange, standing in a doorway with Lord Henry, who was holding her hand.

Something seemed to check the boy, as a pang of jealousy shot through his fervent young heart. He could not hear what was said, but stood still in mute rage as Lord Henry said: