If Sinners Entice Thee Part 11

"How?"

"In December I'm going to Nice for the season," Zertho explained. "We shall have plenty of fun there, so at my expense you'll come."

"I think not," was the brief reply.

"My dear fellow, why not," he cried. "Surely you can have no qualms about accepting my hospitality. You will remember that when I was laid up with typhoid in Ostend I lived for months on your generosity. And heaven knows, you had then but little to spare! It is my intention now to recompense you."

"And to endeavour to win Liane's love," added the Captain, curtly.

Zertho's brows narrowed slightly. He paused, gazing at the fine diamond glittering upon his white finger.

"Well, yes," he answered at last. "I don't see why there should be anything underhand between us."

"I gave you my answer when you came down to Stratfield Mortimer," the other responded in a harsh, dry tone, rising slowly. "I still adhere to my decision."

"Why?" protested his whilom partner, looking up at him intently, and sticking his hands into his pockets in lazy, indolent att.i.tude.

"Because I'm confident she will never marry you."

"Has she a lover?"

His companion gave an affirmative nod. Zertho frowned and bit his lip.

"Who is he?" he asked. "Some uncouth countryman or other, I'll be bound."

"The son of Sir John Stratfield."

The prince sprang to his feet, and faced his visitor with a look of amazement.

"Sir John's son! Never!" he gasped.

"Yes. Strange how such unexpected events occur, isn't it?" Brooker observed, slowly, with emphasis.

"But, my dear fellow, you can't allow it. You must not!" he cried wildly.

"I've already told her that marriage is entirely out of the question.

Yet she will not heed me," her father observed, twirling the moustaches which he kept as well trained now as in the days when he rode at the head of his troop on Hounslow Heath, and was the pet of certain London drawing-rooms.

"Then take her abroad, so that they cannot meet. Come to Nice in December."

"I am to bring her, so that you may endeavour to take George Stratfield's place in her heart--eh?" observed the Captain shrewdly.

"Marriage with George Stratfield is agreed between us both to be impossible, whereas marriage with me is not improbable," was the reply.

Erle Brooker shrugged his shoulders as he again puffed vigorously at his cigar. He now saw plainly Zertho's object in asking him to call.

"Well," continued his friend, "even I, with all my faults, am preferable to any Stratfield as Liane's husband, am I not?"

"I don't see why we need discuss it further," said Brooker quietly.

"Liane will never become Princess d'Auzac."

"Will you allow me to pay my attentions to her?"

"If you are together I cannot prevent it, Zertho. But, candidly speaking, you are not the man I would choose as husband for my daughter."

"I know I'm not, old fellow," the other said, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "And you're not exactly the man that, in ordinary circ.u.mstances, I'd choose as my father-in-law. But I have money, and if the man's a bit decent-looking, and sound of wind and limb, it's about all a woman wants nowadays."

"Ah! I don't think you yet understand Liane. She's not eager for money and position, like most girls."

"Well, let me have a fair innings, Brooker, and she'll consent to become Princess d'Auzac, I feel convinced. You fancy I only admire her; but I swear it's a bit more than mere admiration. For Heaven's sake take her out of that dismal hole where you are living, and make her break it all off with Stratfield's son. She must do that at once. Take her to the seaside--to Paris--anywhere, for a month or two until we can all meet in the South."

Brooker, leaning against the mantelshelf, slowly flicked the ash from his cigar, meditated deeply for a few moments, then asked--

"Why do you wish to take me back to the old spot?"

"Because only there can you pick up a living. The police have nothing against either of us, so what have we to fear?"

"Recognition by one or other of our dupes. Play wasn't all straight, you'll remember."

"Bah!" cried Zertho with impatience. "What's the use of meeting trouble half-way? You never used to have a thought for the morrow in the old days. But, there, you're respectable now," he added, with a slight sneer.

"If I go South I shall not play," Brooker said, decisively. "I've given it up."

"Because you've had a long run of ill-luck--eh?" the other laughed.

"Surely this is the first time you've adopted such a course. I might have been in the same unenviable plight as yourself by now if my respected parent had not taken it into his head to drop out of this sick hurry of life just at a moment when my funds were exhausted. One day I was an adventurer with a light heart and much lighter pocket, and on the next wealthy beyond my wildest expectations. Such is one's fortune.

Even your bad luck may have changed during these months."

"I think not," Brooker answered gravely.

"Well, you shall have a thousand on loan to venture again," his old partner said good-naturedly.

"I appreciate your kindness, Zertho," he answered, in a low tone, smiling sadly, "but my days are over. I've lost, and gone under."

The prince glanced at him for an instant. There was a strange glint in his dark eyes.

"As you wish," he answered, then walking to a small rosewood escritoire which stood in the window, he sat down and scribbled a cheque, payable to his friend for five hundred pounds. Brooker, still smoking, watched him in silence, unaware of his intention. Slowly the prince blotted it, folded it, and placing it in an envelope, returned to where his visitor was standing.

"I asked you to take Liane from all the painful memories of Stratfield Mortimer. Do so for her sake, and accept this as some slight contribution towards the expense. Only don't let her know that it comes from me."

Brooker took the envelope mechanically, regarding his friend steadily, with fixed gaze. At first there was indecision in his countenance, but next instant his face went white with fierce anger and resentment. His hand closed convulsively upon the envelope, crushing it into a shapeless ma.s.s, and with a fierce imprecation he cast it from him upon the floor.

"No, I'll never touch your money!" he cried, with a gesture, as if shrinking from its contact. "You fear lest Liane should know that you are attempting to buy her just as you would some chattel or other which, for the moment, takes your fancy. But she shall know; and she shall never be your wife."

"Very well," answered Zertho, with a contemptuous smile, facing the Captain quickly. "Act as you please, but I tell you plainly, once and for all, that Liane will many me."

"She shall not."

"She shall!" declared the other, determinedly, looking into his face intently, his black eyes flashing. "And you will use that cheque for her benefit, and in the manner I direct, without telling her anything.

You will also bring her to Nice, and stand aside that I may win her, and--"