Fordham's Feud Part 30

"Very. In fact, the irony of the situation is unique. And yet there are people who say there is no such thing as poetic justice."

"But now, suppose you begin by giving one some idea as to the nature of this wonderful plan of yours. I take for granted it is for n.o.body's _good_, anyhow."

"You are wrong there. It will tend most distinctly to the good of two people. And--calm your amazement--one of those people is yourself."

"Your warning is wholly needed. The idea that any action of _yours_ could tend to _my_ advantage is sufficient to justify the wildest amazement, were there room for any other emotion than complete incredulity," she answered, with a scornful smile.

"You shall see directly. But, first of all, let me congratulate you on the extremely fascinating appearance of--your daughter. It really does you the greatest credit--"

"We will leave her out of the question, if you please," she interrupted, speaking quickly.

"But I don't please--and that for the best possible reason. I said just now that the scheme in which I require your aid will tend to the advantage of two persons, one of them being yourself. The other is-- your daughter."

"Then you will certainly not obtain my aid. In anything that tends to involve my child in co-operation--however indirect--with yourself, I flatly refuse to have any hand."

The sardonic smile deepened around Fordham's mouth. He opened his cigar-case, took out a fresh cigar, and lighted it with the greatest deliberation.

"It is always a pity to commit oneself to a rash statement," he said.

"The determination just expressed you will directly see reason to reconsider--certainly before you leave this delightful spot."

"Never!"

"Oh, but you will! You are, to do you justice, far too much a woman of the world--life has been far too comfortable, too prosperous for you-- for you both--during, we'll say, the last twenty years, for you to face the alternative now."

"Has it? I will risk anything--face any alternative."

"Even that of starvation?"

"Even that. But it will not come to that. Poverty it may be--but--we can work--we can live somehow."

"Ha! ha! ha! Can you? Only try it. I see I was giving you undue credit just now when I defined you as a woman of the world. Those who talk airily of poverty are always the ones who have spent life in luxury. Think of it in all its aspects--of being on the very verge of starvation, of the fireless grate, and weeks of north-east wind and snowstorm, of the foul, insanitary den--kennel rather--covered by the same roof as that which shelters the most debased two-legged animals which ever bore semblance to the stamp of humanity. Think of the sights and sounds, the mad-drunk ruffians, and the fighting, clawing, screaming, harpies; the 'language of the people,' and nights made hideous with the yells of some one being murdered. This is what poverty is going to mean in your case. This is what you and your--child will come to. Stay a moment. You think I am exaggerating? You think, no doubt, you have friends who will help you--who will never see you come to this? But don't flatter yourself. I will prevent them from helping you. I will cause them to spurn you from their doors--both of you. In fact, I will hunt you down into utter and complete ruin--both of you.

Both of you--mark it well! Why do I not do so in any case? I don't know. But oppose me in the slightest particular--neglect in the minutest detail the scheme I am going to set you to carry out--and this--and more than all this shall come upon you--shall come upon you both--as sure as I am a living man."

Her face was as white as a sheet, and in her flashing eyes there was the look of a tigress whose whelps are menaced, as she advanced a step nearer to him, her breast heaving violently.

"Dare you boast that you _are_ a living man?" she panted, clenching and unclenching her hands. "Are you not afraid I shall kill you where you stand? I shall some day--I know it!"

"Do--if you can. And, by the way, this would have been an excellent opportunity. In the first place, you would be entirely free from interruption, for I have already scouted the whole of this covert to ensure the absence of the regulation dauber intent on evolving the pictorial presentment of a dissipated-looking sugar-loaf, under the impression that he or she is sketching the Matterhorn. In the next, this country has practically abolished the death penalty, so that you would get a dozen years at most, and your child would have the honour of being the daughter of a convict as well as--But drop these melodramatics, and return to sound sense. Heavens, woman! I wonder you dare talk to _me_ like this." And as his memory leaped back his deep voice took the snarling rumble of an enraged wild beast.

Man and Nature are ever offering the most vivid and jarring contrasts.

The brown roofs of the village, dominated by the white cubes of the great hotels, lay nestling amid the green meadows, against a background of stately mountains. The hoa.r.s.e rush of the torrent, pent up in the narrow fissure at their feet, joined with the deeper roar of the churning Visp, gathering hourly in volume as the midday sun told in power upon its feeder, the great Gorner glacier, whose sheeny _seracs_ reared their dazzling battlements in a blue and white line above the vernal pastures at the head of the valley, while the stately monolith of the giant Matterhorn towered aloft into the vivid blue of the cloudless heavens. Yet there, amid the sequestered solitude of the jagged pines, stood these two, confronting each other with deadly rage in their hearts, with bitterest hate and defiance flashing from their set faces and burning eyes--a very h.e.l.l of evil pa.s.sions surging alike in both.

"Now take your choice," he went on. "Carry out my plan as I am about to lay it before you, and you will benefit yourself in doing so. Refuse, or mar it in the slightest detail, either by bungling or of set design, and I will utterly crush you both, beginning from this day. You know me."

She made no answer. She never removed her eyes from his, and her breath came in quick, hard gasps. Her aspect was that of some dangerous animal cornered, driven to bay. Barely a couple of yards behind him was the brink of the narrow fissure by which the churning torrent cleft its way through the heart of the rocks. The sneering, mocking smile which came into his face as he read her thoughts was devilish in its maddening provocation.

"No go," he said. "You couldn't do it. I am much too firm on my pins.

You would be extremely likely to go over yourself, and then what would become of Laura, left to _my_ tender mercies?"

"You fiend! I think Satan himself must be a G.o.d compared with you."

"Am I to take that as a compliment? Well, now to business. Sit down."

"Thank you. I prefer to stand."

"I don't," seating himself upon a boulder and puffing deliberately at his cigar. "Please yourself, however. And now kindly give me your best attention."

Then for the next twenty minutes he did all the talking, though every now and then an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n of anger, disgust, or dissidence would escape her. This, however, affected him not in the slightest degree.

The cold, cutting, sarcastic tones flowed evenly on, laying down the details of what was to her a strange and startling plan. Not until he had unfolded it in all its bearings did he pause, as though to invite comment.

But by that time it was noticeable that the horror and decisiveness in her refusal to co-operate with which the woman had first received his suggestion had undergone a very marked abatement. She could even bring herself to discuss the scheme in some of its details.

"Now," he concluded--"now you see I am practically proposing to be Laura's greatest benefactor; yours, too, in a secondary degree, for the event will render you, to a large extent, free from my bondage."

"That indeed would be to benefit me," she answered, with a return of the old, rancorous aversion. "But even now the motive you have given is not above suspicion. It is too inadequate."

"Not so. If you look at it all round you will perceive it is complete.

I am of a revengeful disposition, and now, after half a lifetime, I see my opportunity for taking a most sweeping revenge. But I like my retribution to be as original as it is far-reaching. This one is. In fact, it is unique."

How unique it was even she could not at the moment fathom. But she was destined to learn it later, in all its grim and undreamed-of horror.

"I hope I may be allowed to change my mind," said Mrs Daventer, sweetly, as she entered the bureau of the hotel that afternoon. "I wish to counter-order the arrangements I made for leaving to-morrow. It can be managed, I hope?"

"I will see immediately, madame," said the civil _employe_, looking up from the pile of letters he was sorting, and which had just come in. "I tink de mules are already ordered. One moment--I will just inquire."

He went out, leaving Mrs Daventer alone in the bureau. She turned over some of the letters. Among the uppermost in the half-sorted pile was one addressed "Philip Orlebar, Esq." The handwriting was rather large and bold, but distinctly feminine, and the envelope bore the Zinal postmark. At sight of this Mrs Daventer's pulses quickened and her eyes dilated. Then she heard the _employe's_ steps returning.

"It will be all right, madame," he said. "Another party is going down who will be very glad of de mules."

She thanked him, entered into a few pleasant commonplaces as to the attractions of the locality, the number of people abroad that year, the fineness of the season, and so forth, and expressing a little disappointment at the man's reply that the pile of letters just delivered contained none for her or her daughter, she went out.

Philip Orlebar received several letters that afternoon, but they did not comprise one bearing the Zinal postmark, which circ.u.mstance, however, conveyed no disappointment, inasmuch as he had never expected they would.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

SIR FRANCIS ORLEBAR.

Claxby Court, Sir Francis Orlebar's seat, was a snug country box, rather modern in architecture and unpretentious of aspect. A long, winding carriage-drive led up to the front portico, entering which you found yourself in a s.p.a.cious central hall, lit from above by a skylight. The effect of this hall, with its carved furniture and quaint oak cabinets, its walls covered with weapons and trophies of many lands, was extremely good. A gallery ran round it above, and the dining and drawing-room, morning-room and library, opened out from it on the ground-floor.

The stabling and gardens were of proportionately modest dimensions. The house stood in a park of about fifty acres, and, being on a slight eminence, commanded a charming view of field and woodland stretching away to a line of green downs to the southward. The estate consisted of about three thousand acres, but it was not all good land, and there was always a farm or two lying unlet. The former possessor had been a careful man, but although times were better in his day, he had found it all he could do to steer clear of serious embarra.s.sment. The present one found it hardly less difficult, but he had two things in his favour.

He was a man of simple and inexpensive tastes, and, with the exception of one son, he was childless. His liability was, therefore, a strictly limited one.

Sir Francis Orlebar stood in his library window, thinking. It was a bright summer morning--bright and cheerful enough to have exercised a corresponding effect upon the spirits. Yet in this instance it did not seem to.

He was a slight, well-proportioned man of medium height, but his slight build and erect carriage made him seem taller than he really was. There was a look of almost ultra-refinement in his face, and he was still strikingly handsome. His hair and moustache were grey, but his eyes looked almost young. Not in their light-hearted expression, however, for there was a tinge of melancholy never wholly absent from them, but in their wonderful penetrating clearness. It was a most contradictory face, and withal, to the student of physiognomy, a most provoking one, for as a set-off to the high forehead and straight, clear eyes there was a shade of weakness, of over-sensitiveness in the set of the lower jaw.