Anna the Adventuress Part 25

They pa.s.sed a man who stared at them curiously. Ennison started and looked anxiously at Anna. She was quite unconcerned.

"Did you see who that was?" he asked in a low tone.

"I did not recognize him," Anna answered. "I supposed that he took off his hat to you."

"It was Cheveney!" he said slowly.

"Cheveney!" she repeated. "I do not know any one of that name."

He caught her wrist and turned her face towards him. Her eyes were wide open with amazement.

"Mr. Ennison!"

He released her.

"Good G.o.d!" he exclaimed. "Who are you--Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?"

Anna laughed.

"If it is a choice between the two," she answered, "I must be Annabel Pellissier. I am certainly no ghost."

"You have her face and figure," he muttered. "You have even her name.

Yet you can look Cheveney in the face and declare that you do not know him. You have changed from the veriest b.u.t.terfly to a woman--you wear different clothes, you have the air of another world. If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum."

She laughed heartily, and became as suddenly grave.

"So Mr. Cheveney was another Paris friend, was he?" she asked.

"Don't befool me any more," he answered, almost roughly. "If any one should know----you should! He was your friend. We were only--_les autres_."

"That is quite untrue," she declared cheerfully. "I certainly knew him no better than you."

"Then he--and Paris--lied," Ennison answered.

"That," she answered, "is far easier to believe. You are too credulous."

Ennison had things to say, but he looked at her and held his tongue.

They turned the last corner, and almost immediately a man who had been standing there turned and struck Ennison a violent blow on the cheek.

Ennison reeled, and almost fell. Recovering himself quickly his instinct of self-defence was quicker than his recollection of Anna's presence. He struck out from the shoulder, and the man measured his length upon the pavement.

Anna sprang lightly away across the street. Brendon and Courtlaw who had been watching for her, met her at the door. She pointed across the road.

"Please go and see that--nothing happens," she pleaded.

"It is the first moment we have let him out of our sight," Brendon exclaimed, as he hastened across the street.

Hill sat up on the pavement and mopped the blood from his cheek.

Ennison's signet-ring had cut nearly to the bone.

"What the devil do you mean by coming for me like that?" Ennison exclaimed, glowering down upon him. "Serves you right if I'd cracked your skull."

Hill looked up at him, an unkempt, rough-looking object, with broken collar, tumbled hair, and the blood slowly dripping from his face.

"What do you mean, hanging round with my wife?" he answered fiercely.

Ennison looked down on him in disgust.

"You silly fool," he said. "I know nothing about your wife. The young lady I was with is not married at all. Why don't you make sure before you rush out like that upon a stranger?"

"You were with my wife," Hill repeated sullenly. "I suppose you're like the rest of them. Call her Miss Pellissier, eh? I tell you she's my wife, and I've got the certificate in my pocket."

"I don't know who you are," Ennison said quietly, "but you are a thundering liar."

Hill staggered to his feet and drew a folded paper from his pocket.

"Marriage certificates don't tell lies, at any rate," he said. "Just look that through, will you."

Ennison took the doc.u.ment, tore it half in two without looking at it, and flung it back in Hill's face. Then he turned on his heel and walked off.

_Chapter XVII_

THE CHANGE IN "ALCIDE"

"By-the-bye," his neighbour asked him languidly, "who is our hostess?"

"Usually known, I believe, as Lady Ferringhall," Ennison answered, "unless I have mixed up my engagement list and come to the wrong house."

"How dull you are," the lady remarked. "Of course I mean, who was she?"

"I believe that her name was Pellissier," Ennison answered.

"Pellissier," she repeated thoughtfully. "There were some Hampshire Pellissiers."

"She is one of them," Ennison said.

"Dear me! I wonder where Sir John picked her up."

"In Paris, I think," Ennison answered. "Only married a few months ago and lived out at Hampstead."

"Heavens!" the lady exclaimed. "I heard they came from somewhere outrageous."

"Hampstead didn't suit Lady Ferringhall," Ennison remarked. "They have just taken this house from Lady Cellender."

"And what are you doing here?" the lady asked.