The Pomp of Yesterday Part 50

Instantly there was a deathly silence, and with a quick movement every one turned to the speaker.

'I imagine my motives may be questioned,' he went on. 'I am sure, too, that what I say will be denied; but that doesn't matter.'

He hesitated a second as if doubtful how he had best continue, but the tone of his voice and the purport of his words had done their work.

Even Lady Bolivick dropped her knitting, and looked quite disturbed.

'This is what I have to tell you,' he said. 'Maurice St. Mabyn is alive; at least he was in July, 1914, months after he was announced to be dead.'

I saw George St. Mabyn start to his feet, his lips livid, while Norah Blackwater gave a cry which was not far removed from a scream.

'Perhaps I ought to have told this in a different way,' went on my friend. 'Perhaps, directly my memory came back to me, and the events of the past became clear again, I ought to have sought out George St.

Mabyn, and especially Colonel Springfield, and told them privately what I know. However, I have thought a good deal before speaking, and--and as this is a family party, I have adopted this method.'

'Why should you tell Colonel Springfield?' and George St. Mabyn seemed to be speaking against his will.

'Because he is most deeply implicated, and because he will have most to explain.'

I heard Springfield laugh at this, a laugh half of derision, half of anger.

'I am afraid,' he said quietly, 'that although we have all congratulated Lord and Lady Carbis on the return of their son, that his loss of memory has disturbed his mental equilibrium in other ways.'

'Oh, no,' said Jack quietly, 'I am quite sane. No doubt it would simplify your course of action very much if I were not, but as a matter of fact my mind was never clearer. My father and mother will tell you that I was never given to hysterics, and I am no great hand at imagination.'

'But--but if you have--have proof of this,'--it was George St. Mabyn who spoke, and his voice was hoa.r.s.e and unnatural,--'why--why'----? by heaven, it's monstrous!'

Springfield laughed like one amused.

'I do not wish to wound any one's feelings,' he said, 'but I suppose many madmen think they are sane. Of course we sympathize with Lord and Lady Carbis, but I am afraid there is only one conclusion that we can come to. Only on the night when his father and mother came here, before this marvellous change in his memory took place, he said something similar to this, and--and of course we can only regard it as the hallucination of an unbalanced mind. Let us hope after a few months' quiet, things will be normal again.'

'Of course I knew you would take this att.i.tude, Colonel Springfield,'

replied Jack quietly. 'You have reason to.'

'What reason?' he snarled.

'Are you sure you wish me to tell?'

'Yes, tell anything, everything you can! Only be sure it's the truth.

Else by----!' he remembered himself suddenly and then went on: 'But this is madness, pure madness!'

'I'll not deal with motives,' went on my friend, still speaking quietly; 'they will doubtless come out in good time. For that matter I would rather say no more at present. I have only said what I have to give you a chance--of--of clearing out.'

Springfield gave me a quick glance, and then for a moment lost control of himself.

'Oh, I see,' he said. 'This is a plot. Lus...o...b.. is in it. He has been discussing things with this--this lunatic, and this hatched-up absurdity is the result.'

I think Springfield felt he had made a false move the moment he had spoken. Directly my name was mentioned, it became evident that the plea of my friend's madness broke down.

'At any rate,' he went on, 'I am not to be intimidated, and I will not listen to any hysterical slanderings.'

'Pardon me,' said Jack quietly, 'but Lus...o...b.. knew nothing whatever of my intentions. You are sure you want me to go on?' he added quietly.

'Go on by all means. Doubtless you will be amusing. But mind,' and Springfield's voice became threatening, 'I am a dangerous man to trifle with.'

'I have grave reasons for knowing that,' was Jack's reply; 'but let that pa.s.s. About three years ago news arrived in England that Maurice St. Mabyn was dead--killed in a skirmish in Egypt. Some time afterwards Colonel or Captain Springfield as he was then, came to Devonshire, and gave a detailed account of his death. He said he was with him during his last moments, together with--other interesting things. From the account given Maurice St. Mabyn died in April, 1914, and Colonel Springfield came, I think, in September, or October. By this time George St. Mabyn had not only taken possession of his brother's estates, but had also become the suitor for the hand of his brother's fiancee.'

'Surely,' cried Springfield, as if in protest, 'there is no need to distress us all by probing the wounds made three years ago. Personally I think it is cruel.'

'It would be cruel but for what I am going to say,' replied Jack Carbis. 'As it happens, Maurice St. Mabyn was not dead at the time. I saw him,--spoke with him in Bizna in the July of that year.'

'You saw Maurice in July, although he was reported dead in April!'

cried Sir Thomas. 'Why--why----; but it can't be true! That is--are you sure? I say, George, wasn't the news definite--concise? Yes, I remember it was. I saw the Egyptian newspaper account.'

'I suppose you don't expect any one here to believe in this c.o.c.k-and-bull story,' and Springfield laughed uneasily. 'But may one ask,' he continued, 'why we are regaled with this--this romance?'

'Yes,' replied Jack, 'you may ask; but if I were you I wouldn't. I'd make myself scarce.'

I saw Springfield's eyes contract, and his whole att.i.tude reminded me of an angry dog.

'You must tell us all what you mean by that,' he snarled. 'I'm sorry, Lady Bolivick, that such a scene as this should take place in your house, but I must defend myself.'

'Against whom? Against what? What charges have been made?' and Jack Carbis still spoke quietly and naturally.

Again Springfield lost control of himself. 'Oh, I know,' he cried, 'that you and Lus...o...b.. have been plotting against me for years. I know that you would poison the mind of----; that is--why should I deny it?

I love Miss Bolivick. I have loved her from the first hour I saw her.

I have sought her honourably. I would give my immortal soul to win her, such is my love for her. I know, too, that you, Edgec.u.mbe, or Carbis, or whatever you may call yourself, are jealous of me, because you are madly in love with her yourself. By unproved, unprovable because they are lying, statements, you are trying to poison the mind of the women I love against me. You are suggesting that I sent home and brought home false accounts of Maurice St. Mabyn's death for some sinister purpose. You are hinting at all sorts of horrible things.

Great G.o.d, haven't you done enough to thwart me? Oh, yes--I'll admit it, I expected to be Lord Carbis's heir. I had reason. But for you I--I----but there, seeing you have robbed me of what I thought was my legitimate fortune, don't try to rob me of my good name. It's--it's all I have!'

At that moment I looked at Lorna Bolivick, and I thought I saw admiration in her eyes; I felt that never was Springfield's hold upon her stronger than now.

'Tell us plainly what you want to say,' continued Springfield; 'formulate your charges. Tell me of what I am guilty. But by the G.o.d who made us, you shall prove your words. I will not be thrust into a hopeless h.e.l.l by lying innuendos and unproved charges.'

For the first time I thought my friend looked confused and frightened.

It might be that the personality of the other had mastered him, and that although he had gone several steps forward in his attack, he now desired to turn back. He seemed about to speak, then hesitated and was silent.

'Why force me to tell the truth?' he said lamely. 'I do not wish to say more. Take my advice, and leave while you may.'

'I am a soldier,' cried Springfield, 'and I am not one to run away--especially from vague threats. Nay, more,' and he turned to Lorna Bolivick, 'Miss Bolivick--Lorna, to prove how I scorn these vague threats, I ask you here and now, although I am only a poor man, and have nothing to offer you but the love of a poor soldier, to give me the happiness I have so longed and prayed for.'

CHAPTER x.x.xIX

SPRINGFIELD AT BAY

But Lorna did not speak. That she realized the situation no one could doubt. The sea in which the bark of her life was sailing was full of cross currents, and in her excitement she did not know the course she ought to steer.

It was here that Sir Thomas Bolivick thought it right to speak. I gathered that he was not pleased at Springfield's avowal, for while he doubtless favoured his suit while he was to all appearances the heir to Lord Carbis, events had changed everything.