Grit Lawless Part 16

"Yes."

Simmonds looked at the other inquiringly. The Colonel was staring hard at the light that stood on the table between them, swiftly revolving, in a mind much given to scheming of late, plan after plan which, after a brief consideration, he put successively on one side as ineffectual or unfeasible. While he thought he smoked in a state of inward fume, oblivious of his companion altogether. It was very evident that the last check had hit him hard. He saw no opening for his next move.

"There is one thing fairly certain," he remarked at length, "we shall have to pull this off without a.s.sistance. Van Bleit knows we are both his enemies; we must fight openly. We can't trust this matter to other hands."

"I agree with you there," Simmonds answered. "You might keep all the rogues in the Colony. It's the soft sort of billet they would tumble to promptly. And there's no possible guarantee of good faith--save their word."

"Their word!" Colonel Grey repeated sourly. "Lawless pa.s.sed me his word--and I accepted it."

He thought for a moment.

"One piece of information he gave me which may prove of service," he said, suddenly looking up. "Van Bleit carries the letters on his person--and a loaded revolver. I'm not scared of revolvers. I'd like to see this one of Van Bleit's at close range--here, in this room."

"You've got a plan?" said Simmonds interrogatively.

"Not much of one... It may not work. We must get him here, if possible... You must see him... Ask him to come here to treat with me... Tell him I've a new proposal to make. Then, when we've got him, we'll lock the door; and if there should be any firing, no one will be any the wiser--unless someone gets hurt."

"He won't come," Simmonds answered confidently.

"He's slim, is Van Bleit, and a coward--of the bullying sort. He'll scent danger."

"We can but try it," Colonel Grey said. And added grimly: "If we once get him inside this room he doesn't leave it until we get those letters."

Simmonds smiled drily.

"If I know anything of the man," he said, "he'll not bring them with him. He may carry them around as a rule, but he isn't at all likely to march into the enemy's camp with them. You forget Denzil's in this. He will leave the letters with him."

"He may do."

The Colonel spoke with a slight irritation, the result of discouragement. He had been many months striving to get hold of these papers, and he was no nearer success than when he first landed in Cape Town. The rogue he had to deal with was insatiable, unprincipled, and unrelenting. He had attempted in the first instance straightforward methods; but Van Bleit, being possessed of a crooked mind, was suspicious of straightforward dealings, and he had been forced to resort to more subtle and underhand means. It was, he felt sure, by no open and honest device that he would prevail against him--if, indeed, he ever prevailed. To-night, baffled and disheartened, he believed that he would be forced to throw down the cards and acknowledge himself beaten.

"I'd give five years of my life," he said--"and my years are not so many now that I can spare them--to best that scoundrel. To think that a contemptible hound like that should have the power to intimidate anyone with a Damocles' sword in the form of a packet of d.a.m.ning letters! The law of the land ought to permit one to shoot blackmailers on sight."

"I rather fancy the law--out here, anyway--would bring it in manslaughter," Simmonds replied coolly. He knocked the ash out of his pipe. "Then, I understand you wish me to try to induce him to come here?"

"Yes, that's it."

The Colonel was still meditating on the unsatisfactoriness of the law.

"I'd bring it in justifiable homicide," he said at last.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

Poor little Julie Weeber was having a bad time of it.

She was, to the scornful surprise of her family, which was neither sympathetic nor particularly wise in its mode of condemnation, grieving for a man who was utterly worthless. Her sister declared that she was wanting in proper pride, and her mother regarded her as a silly, sentimental child, and refused to consider the trouble seriously. So Julie nursed her heart-hunger in silence, and the round, young face grew thinner, the laughter died out of her eyes, and her lips lost the humorous twist that had made her many admirers want to kiss them. It was but a pale reflection of the old Julie they met at dances and parties, a Julie who would not flirt with them, and whose once ready repartee failed her utterly and left her with curiously little to say.

She had been good sport once, and the youths with whom she had been popular found it difficult to realise the change. When they discovered that the change was enduring and not merely a pa.s.sing mood, they deserted her for more amusing company, and Julie found herself neglected with a programme half filled at dances, and only one staunch ally to depend upon for an escort. The ally was Teddy Bolitho, whose great ambition was to earn a sufficient income on which to set up housekeeping, and to win Julie's consent to become mistress of his home.

But the ambition was distant of fulfilment. Young Bolitho had as much as he could do to pay his modest way.

Julie liked Teddy Bolitho. Before the advent of Lawless she had liked him better than any man she had ever met. Bolitho had stood aside when the older man claimed her attention. It had been a blow for him, but he had taken it pluckily with his back against the wall. He had quickly recognised that he stood no chance against Lawless, who had everything in his favour so far as outward seeming went, and despite his successful rivalry, he entertained a half-reluctant liking for the man. It was not surprising that Julie should find him fascinating; and it would be a very much better match for her, he had decided, judging--as Julie's mother had judged when she encouraged Lawless to visit at the house--by externals.

And then had arisen the scandal concerning Lawless, and his subsequent disappearance; and Bolitho had quietly stepped out from the background, and taken his place again quite naturally at Julie's side. She accepted his action without comment. He was the only one in her world who understood. She felt instinctively that he did understand, that she could count on his sympathy, though neither by word nor sign did he allude to what was past; and she repaid him in the trust and regard of an earnest friendship, which is the next best thing to love. But an earnest friendship is not what a man covets from the girl who holds his heart. Bolitho was acquiring patience in the hard school of necessity; nevertheless, there were times when his spirit chafed sorely, times when he felt thoroughly disheartened and discouraged; despite the happy optimism of his nature, the outlook was not promising.

"I don't know why you bother about me," she said to him one evening at a dance, when he came upon her sitting out in a corner by herself. He had only just arrived, having been detained at the store, where they were short-handed through the illness of a clerk. He had looked for Julie as soon as he entered the room, and caught sight of her in her corner looking wretched and forlorn. At her speech he sat down beside her, and, with a smile, possessed himself of her programme.

"It's curious that I should, isn't it?" he said. "But I've always been in the habit of pleasing myself. What are you going to give me, Julie?"

"Oh! anything you like," she answered dispiritedly. "You'll find any amount of blanks. I have spent most of the time so far adorning the walls."

He looked at her steadily.

"You do it very prettily," he answered.

"Thank you, Teddy."

She moved a little closer to him, and her face brightened.

"I don't mind now you've come," she said. "But I was feeling--hurt before. I've seen girls sitting out often--the dull ones, and I've felt, not so much sorry for them, as surprised that they couldn't get partners. Now I know what it feels like." Her eyes flashed with sudden anger. "It's beastly, the selfishness of people," she said with a note of disgust in her tones. "So long as you are amusing, or interesting, or pretty, you are wanted and sought after... you're popular; but lose your looks, or, worse still, your gift of amusing others, and you might as well be buried for all the attention you get... You simply don't exist. The amusing person can always command friends, but the poor dull person who most needs friendship is invariably shunned... Now I'm being bitter and hateful, and, perhaps, even you--But I know you are not like that... It was horrid of me to have said that. I'm often horrid now, Teddy. I get more horrid every day."

"Look here," he returned quickly, "I'm not dancing with anyone--most of the girls have filled their cards by now. Every dance that you have open we'll have, or sit out, together, and those that you're fixed up for I'll dance with anyone I can discover who is sitting out. We'll square matters that way."

"Oh, Teddy! you are a good sort," she said.

She watched him while he marked his programme, comparing it with hers.

He had reddened slightly at her words of approbation, but by the time he had finished pencilling his programme his embarra.s.sment had vanished, and he returned her card with his usual cheerful smile.

"I've stolen all the blanks," he said. "You don't mind--if it's remarked?"

"No... I don't care," she answered stubbornly.

He rose and offered her his arm.

"We won't sit here inhaling the dust they're kicking up," he said.

"There are one or two jolly little retreats, Julie, where we can talk at our ease."

She laughed.

"You always had a genius for discovery," she returned. As she took the proffered arm she gave it a little grateful squeeze. "Oh! I'm so glad to get out of this room."

Outside the ball-room they came face to face with Mrs Lawless and Van Bleit. There was a block at the entrance. Many couples were leaving the room, and new-comers pressed forward, and for several minutes people were forcibly restrained in the narrow pa.s.sage.

Mrs Lawless looked searchingly into the young face, as she recognised the girl who had been Lawless' partner in the dance when they had been held up by the crowd as they were now. It was obvious that the girl also recognised her. The older woman smiled.

"It seems fated that we should meet in a crush," she said in her peculiarly soothing voice. "On the last occasion we both were slightly damaged. May we have better luck this time."

Julie smiled back at her and flushed warmly. She felt strangely shy in the presence of this beautiful, composed woman, with the sweet voice and easy manner, and the so distressingly familiar name. But the owner of the familiar name looked gracious, and--Julie could not but notice it-- sad, despite the ready smile. The girlish heart went out to her unquestioningly, recognising instinctively a common bond. She did not know why the lovely sun-flecked eyes held shadows, she only saw that the shadows were there, and felt drawn towards their owner in consequence.

Her shyness left her suddenly. She drew her hand from Teddy Bolitho's arm, and shielded the other woman's body with two young, vigorous arms.

"You shall not be damaged this time," she said, and laughed.