Guilty Bonds Part 18

Pausing for a moment to take out a fresh cigarette, the sound of voices, close to where I stood, fell indistinctly upon my ears. It did not, and would not, have struck me as curious, had I not suddenly observed two figures, a man and a woman, who were standing together. I had no desire, nor inclination, to witness the love-making of a couple of rustics, yet what could I do? To move was to be discovered, so I remained motionless, hidden behind the trunk of a huge tree.

After a few moments they resumed their conversation earnestly, and my curiosity was aroused. I listened, but was unable to distinguish a single word. Suddenly, however, the truth became evident. I knew they were speaking in Russian!

I recognised the woman's voice as that of Vera!

Scarce daring to breathe, I stood rooted to the spot, but just as I had made the startling discovery the moon appeared from behind a bank of cloud, shining down through the leafy branches, and revealing my wife leaning upon the arm of her companion.

He was bending over her, with his face hidden from me. My first impulse was to rush forward and surprise them; but reflecting a moment, I stood eagerly watching. He was uttering tenderly-spoken words, and her head was resting upon his shoulder, when suddenly he turned and glanced in my direction.

The moonlight fell full upon his face, and in a moment I recognised it as one I had seen before!

It was a countenance every feature of which was impressed only too deeply upon my memory--that of the man I had seen leaving the house in Bedford Place!--the man I had vowed to deliver up to justice whenever he should cross my path!

There was a rustling among the bracken, and the branches of the trees gently swaying, cast weird shadows around which a heated imagination could easily have transformed into the shapes and forms of supernatural creatures.

Again peeping from my place of concealment, I saw my wife and her companion were moving onward; indeed I was compelled to draw back quickly, for she pa.s.sed so close that I could touch her.

Conversing in the same earnest tones they strolled slowly along to the edge of the wood; but I did not follow them: I had heard and seen enough.

Stunned and bewildered, no tears welled from my eyes, but, nevertheless, I began to bitterly repent the implicit trust I had placed in Vera, and firmly resolved not to rest until I could bring to justice the inhuman monster who, not content with his horrible deeds, had ruined that happiness that I foolishly believed would last always.

The shock was so great it prostrated me. The impulse to follow them never suggested itself--fool that I was!

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

FALSE!

Utterly broken down at this manifestation of Vera's deception and faithlessness, I wandered away through the grounds in an opposite direction.

Those only who have experienced a suddenly overwhelming grief at discovering the perfidy of the person on whom their affection is set know the intense regret, the anger, and the jealous hatred of the one by whose instrumentality their idol has been shattered. If ever the spirit of murder enters a man's soul it is then.

I thought only of revenge.

Did I not know enough of this man who had blighted my wife's happiness to prove him a murderer and to send him to the gallows? Should I not be even fulfilling my duty in doing so, as well as avenging my own wrongs at the same time?

Yes. I resolved, after much commune with myself, to do this on the morrow. First I would compel Vera to disclose his name, then seek him out, and hand him over to the police.

With these and other maddening thoughts coursing through my brain I had cast myself upon the trunk of a fallen tree, and must have sat there for some time as, when I became conscious of things about me, the grey dawn had appeared through the fast-falling foliage.

Rising, I slowly retraced my steps to the house, pacing the terrace several times in deep soliloquy. The stars had disappeared, the chill breeze stirred the boughs softly, and the air was impregnated with the perfume of decaying leaves. How well I remember leaning upon the stone bal.u.s.trade, gazing away down the misty Dene, and reflecting that ere the morrow's sun had set Vera and I would be parted forever; for after such a discovery I could trust her no longer, neither could we be anything more to each other than strangers.

Need I say how heartily I cursed myself for having been prevailed upon to visit her at Richmond, to listen to her lame excuses, to be softened by her endearing words? No. For the thousandth time I told myself I had been fascinated by her beauty in the way the bird is fascinated by the snake; her toils were about me, and until the present moment I had always been too weak to tear them asunder, to lift the veil from my own eyes, and see her in her true character--that of an adventuress.

But that time had now arrived, and though I confess I was beside myself with grief to find the woman I had loved so fondly, guilty of such scheming and such treachery, I was, nevertheless, pleased to be in possession of the truth. Now I was aware of the worst, and should know how to act.

Presently I turned and pa.s.sed through the French window into my study.

It was useless retiring, for I could not sleep with such thoughts gnawing at my heart, so I flung myself into my writing-chair and thought.

I sat motionless until the warm sun shone through the open window and the birds outside had broken forth into song, when it occurred to me that as I had resolved to leave the place in a few hours it would be well to place my papers in order. This I commenced to do.

There lay scattered upon the table a deed relating to some property, and several letters of a private nature, upon which I had been engaged before taking my stroll on the previous night. With the object of placing them under lock and key I was thoughtfully collecting them when there fell from amongst the heap of papers a piece of red sealing-wax, about the size of a sixpence.

Rarely having occasion to use wax myself I took up the fragment, and found it had the appearance of being the rough corner of a seal that had chipped off the paper to which it had been affixed.

"Some one must have been here in my absence," I exclaimed aloud, glancing at the taper which also lay upon the table, at the same time noticing a small spot of wax that had apparently been dropped upon the leather. Then I remembered that if any one had been in the study during the night they had, without doubt, made themselves acquainted with the contents of the paper, and with the rough copy of my will which I had carelessly left about.

I glanced at the sc.r.a.p of wax again and found upon the margin, close to where it was broken, there was an impression of something.

This might give me a clue to the ident.i.ty of the member of my household who required sealing-wax in the middle of the night.

Going to the window, the stronger light revealed a strange character, something of the shape of the letter B, but having a long excrescence in front.

In a moment I recognised it as one of the hieroglyphics of the mystic seal!

Nervousness is not one of my afflictions, yet I looked round that room involuntarily viewing the curtains with suspicion, as if half afraid I should witness something supernatural appear from behind them.

It was obvious that some one with the seal in his or her possession had come to my study in my absence during the dark hours of the night for the purpose of obtaining an impression in wax, and that the piece which had served as a clue had accidentally chipped off, alighting amongst the papers.

That some one in the house held the seal there could not be the slightest doubt, and my thoughts at once flew to the man whom Vera had clandestinely met--he whom I knew to be the murderer of Mrs Inglewood.

Who had he marked out as his next victim?

If he entertained affection for Vera, and she reciprocated it, what was more natural than that they should wish to rid themselves of me? I shuddered at the thought. My wife could surely never be an accessory to a murder--yet such things were not unknown, I told myself.

Yes; my surmise must be correct. My wife's lover was only waiting for a favourable opportunity to strike the fatal blow.

He was not aware, however, that I had espied his presence, had recognised him; nor that by mere chance I had learned that an attempt was to be made upon my life.

"I can thwart their vile plot, even now!" I said bitterly, holding the piece of wax in my hand, and gazing upon it. "I will see Vera and first give her an opportunity to justify herself. If it is unsatisfactory I shall then give information to the police, and have the murderer arrested," and I even smiled at the thought that, after all, I held the trump card.

Just at that moment the door opened, a head was poked in, and a voice exclaimed: "Halloa, old fellow, why you look as if you hadn't been to bed! I heard somebody chattering, and thought there must be visitors, yet it's rather early. Talking to yourself, it seems."

"What's the time?" I exclaimed rather brusquely, at the same moment taking out my watch.

"Half-past five," he replied. "Coming out with me for a walk? A stretch at this hour of the morning will do you good."

"No, thanks; I'm not an athlete," I replied. "Very well. But, by Jove, what's the matter with you this morning? If you'd had a bad night at baccarat and were stone broke you couldn't look worse."

"Matter with me? Nothing!" I replied, endeavouring to smile, "except that I've been very busy writing."

"Take my tip and go to bed, old fellow. A couple of hours there will freshen you up wonderfully. But, good-bye, if you won't come for a stroll."

"Good-bye: see you at breakfast," I replied abruptly, as the head withdrew and the door closed.

The intruder was Demetrius Hertzen, Vera's cousin, a tall, broad-shouldered fellow about my own age, who had an abundance of spirits, which made him a most agreeable companion.

In response to my invitation he had arrived from Brussels a fortnight previously, and had signified his ability to remain my guest for another month. I had only met him once before, at our marriage, but when he had been with us a few days, I found he had many tastes in common with myself,--that he knew London quite as well as Paris or Brussels, and that although used to rather fast society perhaps, he was nevertheless a thoroughly good fellow.

Vera and he had been children together, and laughingly admitted they were sweethearts before they had gained their teens, but that when Demetrius arrived at the mature age of fifteen he transferred his affections. Cautiously I had approached my guest with a view to learn something of his cousin's past, but he seemed remarkably shrewd, and carefully warded off every indirect question I put to him on the subject.