Devil's Dice Part 18

"Have you already forgotten that evening at old Thackwell's, where you met him with a thin, scraggy girl in pink?" I asked. "On that occasion you were deeply embittered against him, and urged me to avoid him. You said that you knew him `once.' I presume your friendship has now been resumed?"

"Only because it has been imperative," she declared, speaking mechanically, her face hard set and haggard.

"But is he a desirable acquaintance for a woman like yourself, whose every action is chronicled by Society gossips, and who is surrounded by jealous women who would ruin your reputation if only they had half a chance?"

"I do not seek him," she answered. "He comes to me because my interests are his."

"In what direction?"

"I cannot tell you. It is really unfair to ask. You are aware of my acquaintance with this man, and I merely tell you that it is absolutely compulsory."

She was standing before me, with jewels upon her neck and arms flashing in the lamplight, one of the handsomest of women, yet upon her face was a wild and wearied expression such as I had never before seen.

a.s.suredly some great and terrible secret lay hidden in her heart. "I heard you mention to your friend that Jack Bethune once knew a woman--a woman named Sybil. Who was she?" I asked at last.

"Sybil! Sybil!" she repeated, with a puzzled look, as if trying to recall the conversation. "Oh, yes! you mean Sybil Houston."

"Who was she?"

"The daughter of a retired naval officer, I believe. I never met her, but I understood that she acted as Jack's amanuensis. She was, however, engaged to some impossible person or other, whom she married."

"Are you sure he knew no other woman named Sybil?" I asked eagerly.

"My dear Mr Ridgeway, however should I know? Jack did not tell me all his little affairs of the heart, for, remember, I am Dora's sister, and he feared probably that I might tell her," and she gave vent to a harsh, discordant laugh.

I remembered, with a sudden pang, that the letter I had discovered was undoubtedly in my dead bride's handwriting, and felt half inclined to disbelieve her; yet she had spoken so frankly that it seemed as though she had told all she knew. It was only her strange laugh, almost hysterical, that aroused doubts within me.

"If anyone should know something of Jack Bethune's female friends it is yourself. I know you are his confidant," she added.

"He has no female friends now but Dora," I observed, "and he loves her dearly."

"Yes, I know, but they must both see the absurdity of it all," she said petulantly. "They can never marry, so I cannot see why Dora should trouble her head about him. I declare she has been going about looking quite pale and wretched during the past week. People are beginning to talk."

"And why can't they marry?" I asked.

"We've discussed the question before," she replied impatiently. "First, he hasn't sufficient money, for Dora would ruin him in a year; secondly--" and she paused.

"Well--secondly?"

"Secondly, my sister shall never marry a murderer!" she said in a hoa.r.s.e half whisper, first glancing at the door to ascertain that it was still closed.

"But if he returns, and is able to prove that he has had no hand in the sudden disappearance of Gilbert Sternroyd?"

"He cannot. I shall be able to prove to the contrary. Let him return to England, and each step he takes will be towards the gallows," she declared vehemently.

"Your words betray you," I said severely. "Although you have pretended that Sternroyd is merely missing, you know he has been murdered!"

She started violently, clutching at the edge of the table to steady herself.

"And--and your words also show that you are aware! of the truth, that he has been foully done to death, and that your friend Bethune is guilty of the crime!" she gasped when, in a few moments, she recovered her self-possession. "Let him come, let him face me if he can." There was a wild look in her bright eyes, an expression of terrible murderous hatred as her fingers worked convulsively, and her bare chest with its diamonds heaved and fell quickly, causing the gems to glitter with dazzling brilliancy. Her face was that of a woman haunted by the shadow of a crime.

"Very well," I said, quickly. "We will not prolong this very painful interview. He will return, either to prove his innocence or be convicted; either to pay the penalty or marry Dora."

Walking to the door I threw it open, and as I did so she tottered across the room towards it and almost fell. I caught her quickly, but she only laughed hysterically, saying:

"I am a little faint and shall not dance again. If you see Fyneshade, tell him--say that I have gone to my room," and, with a cold, haughty bow she swept suddenly past me with hurried, uneven steps.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

THE MYSTERIOUS MR MARKWICK.

The daily ride was a regular inst.i.tution at Wadenhoe, whither Dora came frequently to visit my mother, and during the few days following the dance we went out each morning. We chose early hours for riding; starting betimes to enjoy to the full the poetry of those bright mornings, and often the sounds of our horses' hoofs were the first to awaken the echoes along the roads and lanes. From the brown fields would be rising in white clouds the filmy mist, gossamers would be gently waving, reflecting all the colours of the rising sun, while on every tuft and blade of gra.s.s stood glistening dewdrops. Then as we reached the woods the air would become fresher, and from all sides would arise the pleasant smell of damp moss and wood, of wild thyme, and of the many little spring flowers that filled the air with woodland fragrance, seeming to blossom out altogether as if anxious not to lose an instant of the opening day.

It was then that I felt mostly under her influence, the influence of a true, honest woman. The way was narrow, and we had to go in single file--Dora going first, entirely absorbed in holding up her horse, who would occasionally stumble over the slippery stumps; I following, leaving my horse to follow his own way, my attention fixed upon the lithe, graceful figure in straw hat and perfectly-fitting habit before me.

Alas! an undefined sense of trouble remained to me, and now that I was questioning myself and trying to read my heart, I was so astonished at my own feelings that I endeavoured to give them any name, to explain them by any possibility, rather than resolve them into a single word.

I knew that my admiration was almost akin to love. That instinctive feeling which attends all affection, the need of reciprocity, had awakened in my heart. The only event that could save me from falling actually in love with her would, I knew, be the advent of Jack Bethune.

Six days had already pa.s.sed, but I had received no word from him.

Possibly the fugitive had left Turin before my telegram arrived, or, more likely, he had regarded it as a ruse on the part of the police to induce him to return, and thus save the complicated process of extradition.

Yet each morning as we rode together she discussed the prospect of seeing him, and wondering why he had neither arrived nor telegraphed, while I endeavoured to console her by antic.i.p.ating his arrival each evening. Foolishly I clung to those hours of ignorance, and, like a man who shuts his eyes because he will not see, I forced my mind and heart not to remember or forebode. I would s.n.a.t.c.h from Fate yet one more day, one single day longer of that vague, ill-defined uneasiness which I could treat as foolishness until the voice of authority had p.r.o.nounced it to be well-founded. Once more I would feel without alloy that I was young, happy, beloved.

She, too, was happy in the expectation of having the man she loved again by her side. She was ignorant that he was suspected of murder; and I felt myself utterly unable to begin attacking so deep and tranquil a happiness, linked so firmly into what seemed an endless chain of bliss.

We were riding together one morning on the road between Thrapston and Aldwinkle, and when near the cross-road that leads to t.i.tchmarsh, Dora suddenly uttered an exclamation of joy and pointed on before. I looked, and saw upon the road a familiar figure in a tweed suit and grey felt hat. With one accord we galloped forward, and in a few minutes were shaking Jack Bethune heartily by the hand.

But in those glad moments I could not fail to notice how changed he was.

His unshaven face was pale and thin, and in his eyes was a curious expression; indeed, he seemed to avoid my gaze. Then again there fell upon me the suspicion that this man had been Sybil's lover. Yet I gripped his hand in welcome.

"I received your telegram, old fellow," he said, turning to me after he had greeted the woman he loved. "How did you ascertain I was in Turin?"

I laughed, but vouchsafed no satisfactory reply, and as we all three walked towards Wadenhoe the conversation grew animated. Jack, suppressing the truth that he had feared arrest, made it appear to Dora that he had been sent abroad on a secret mission and had been compelled to move rapidly from place to place. At breakfast he related how he had received my telegram late at night, after travelling to Asti, and had packed up and left immediately.

"But why have you not written oftener?" Dora asked. "Your letters were couched so strangely that I confess I began to fear you had done something dreadfully wrong."

I watched the effect of those innocent words upon him. He started guiltily, his thin lips compressed, and his face grew pale.

"You are not very complimentary, dearest," he stammered. "I have never been a fugitive, and I hope I never shall be. I suppose the papers have been saying something about me. They always know more about one than one knows one's self. The statements I read in my press-cuttings are simply amazing."

"As far as I am aware the papers have not commented upon your absence,"

she answered. "It was merely a surmise of my own, and, of course, absolutely absurd. Forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive," he answered, rather dryly.

"No, nothing," I said; then turning to him I added: "Dora has been talking daily of you, and wondering when you would return."

"I obeyed your commands immediately," he observed, with an expression that was full of mystery.