The Sign of the Stranger Part 20

"I want you to have a good time, my dear fellow," exclaimed the Earl to his guest. "Just make yourself at home. You'll find the house a big barrack of a place, too big in fact--but with the aid of the servants you'll very soon discover the proper trails. If you don't, just go into the nearest room, ring the bell and wait. That's what most people do.

My wife was fully six months before she could find her way about properly--it's a fact! She wanted to shut up the place and live in the new wing. But," he added, "the old guv'nor always kept it up properly, and I feel it my duty to do just as he did."

That a cordial friendship existed between the pair was plain, and yet I had only once heard his lordship mention him, and that was in the smoking-room when daring feats of big-game hunting and the achievements of Selous and others were being discussed. Then he had declared that he knew a man that held his own with them all--a man named Smeeton, who had spent the greater part of his life exploring and hunting, some of whose trophies, sold to well-known dealers, were the finest in the world.

His lordship was never a boastful man, and had not referred at all to his acquaintance with this renowned hunter, nor to his own African exploits, which were in no way a mean achievement.

He had just ordered Slater to bring in whiskies-and-sodas, as it was his habit to have a "peg" before dressing, when there sounded out in the corridor a light quick footstep, and the scamper of a dog, and the next instant the door opened, and the Countess of Stanchester halted on the threshold, facing the man she held in such deadly fear--Richard Keene!

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

FACE TO FACE.

"My friend Smeeton--Lady Stanchester," exclaimed the Earl, introducing them.

Their gaze met, and I saw that in a moment her heart became gripped by a nameless terror, her countenance blanched, and she halted rigid, as utterly dumbfounded as I had been; while the mysterious guest bowed, expressing his pleasure at making her acquaintance, and thus allowing her a chance to recover her self-possession.

I saw that he had darted a meaning look at her--a glance which she apparently understood, for next second she held her breath, stifling down her apprehension, and then managed to stammer out the usual expression of gratification at meeting any of her husband's friends.

"We have only a moment ago, Lady Stanchester, been recalling memories of our days on the Zambesi. We were both, I think, a little more reckless then than we are now," he said laughing.

"You're right, Smeeton," declared the Earl. "Playing the fool as I did, I narrowly escaped with my life half-a-dozen times over. But I've profited by your advice and experience."

"George is quite a steady-going old fogey nowadays, you must know, Mr Smeeton," exclaimed her ladyship. "He's a member of all sorts of committees for this and for that, and sits on the bench of magistrates with the row of fat butchers and bakers."

"And is pretty hard on poachers, I suppose?" he laughed. "In the eyes of county magistrates the snaring of a hare is, I've heard, regarded as one of the worst crimes in the calendar."

"Of course. Because it is generally the only crime that personally concerns the bench," remarked his lordship, while his wife had crossed to the fireplace and stood slightly behind her husband, in order, I noticed, to conceal the agitation now consuming her. Why had the man come there in the guise of her husband's friend? That they had shot together in Africa was certain, for she had heard of this man's prowess as a big-game hunter, but it was a revelation to her, as to me, that Smeeton and Richard Keene were one and the same person.

Old Slater returned with the "pegs" and the men drank them while her ladyship busied herself pretending to try and find a book in the large bookcase behind me. She chatted to them all the time, but managed to keep her face concealed.

At last the dressing-bell sounded, and the Earl accompanied his guest to his room, exclaiming with a laugh--

"I'd better show you the way, old chap, or you'll be wandering about like one of the lost tribes." Then, the instant the door had closed and their footsteps retreated, the Countess turned quickly to me, her face white and drawn, her eyes terrified, whispering--

"What does this mean, Mr Woodhouse? What can it mean?"

"Well, it seems as though the fellow had some object in coming to stay here as a guest," I said. "What that object is you yourself know best."

"Of course he has a motive," she cried in despair. "But what am I to do? Why didn't you warn me that you had recognised him?"

I explained briefly how to warn her had been impossible.

"Do you think George noticed my confusion when I opened the door and saw him here?" she asked anxiously.

"I think not," was my reply. "You so quickly recovered yourself."

"Ah! But you don't know how sharp his eyes are. He's really absurdly jealous sometimes."

I smiled within myself to think that a woman so fond of admiration and flattery should complain of her husband's jealousy.

"At any rate, in this affair, you'll have to act with the greatest caution and discretion, Lady Stanchester," I said. "The man is here for some sinister purpose--of that I feel quite sure. He arrived in Sibberton a little while ago, tramping along the highway, tired and hungry, a shabby wayfarer, upon whom Warr looked with suspicion. To-day he is your husband's welcomed guest, to whom he expects you to act with kindness and attention."

"Kindness!" she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "Kindness to that man!"

"Is he such an enemy of yours?" I asked in a low tone. "Why don't you take me further into your confidence, Lady Stanchester? Surely you can rely upon my discretion?"

"I have taken you into my confidence as far as I dare," was her answer, uttered in a tone of desperation. "I want you now to a.s.sist me in combating this man's intentions, whatever they are."

"I promise to render you what a.s.sistance I can, but on one condition, recollect," I said. "The condition is that what I do is in order that you shall be afforded opportunity to convince George of your true affection."

"I know, I know," she cried quickly. "I will adhere to my part of the compact. Believe me, I will," and she stood before me a pale apprehensive figure in her Norfolk jacket and short tweed skirt--a woman whose att.i.tude showed me that Keene's presence there held her terrified.

The truth of it all I could not guess. A vague suspicion arose of some curious romance in the days prior to her marriage; of some skeleton in her cupboard, which she feared must now be brought out to the light of day before her husband's eyes. I saw written in her countenance, as she stood before me, an all-consuming fear which seemed to hold her there immovable.

"I'm wondering whether I ought not to make some excuse to go away on a visit somewhere," she suggested after a pause. "I can't really stay under the same roof with him, meet him each day at table, and be compelled to chat with him. It's utterly impossible."

"But how can you leave all these people?" I asked. "Besides, if you did, he might perhaps revenge himself--that is, if you are wholly in his hands. Are you?"

"Utterly," she answered hoa.r.s.ely, as though that confession were wrung from her.

"You fear him, while he has no need to fear you. Is that so?"

She answered in the affirmative in the same hoa.r.s.e unnatural tone.

"Then you must not run further risk by attempting to escape him," I said decisively. "You must remain, act diplomatically, and endeavour to maintain a bold front. Recollect that he is here in order to take advantage of the first sign of apprehension on your part. Show no fear of him," I urged. "Disclaim all knowledge of him if necessary. a.s.sert to his face that you have never met before, should he speak to you alone and endeavour to recall the past. We live for the present or the future, Lady Stanchester, not for the past--whatever it may have been.

Courage!" I said. "If you really love George and are now hounded by this man, I will help you in every way."

"Ah!" she said gratefully. "I know you will, Mr Woodhouse. Believe me, I am at this moment sorely in need of a friend. I know, alas! what evil tongues have said of me, and what a reputation I have for giddiness and flirtation. Yet every action of a woman of my age and position is magnified and exaggerated in order that it may furnish food for gossips and hints for scandal. But I tell you I am not so black as I am painted. I still have a heart--and that heart is my husband's. He is your friend, and if you a.s.sist me to defeat this man you will be rendering him the greatest service one man can render to another--and you will save me."

"I have promised," I answered. "You must go now and meet the man on perfect equality, with perfect friendship. Your mind is blank regarding the past, and you have never met him before in all your life. No matter what he threatens to reveal, or what he tells you his revenge will be, you must not admit that you have been previously acquainted."

"It will be difficult--terribly difficult," she said. "He can unfortunately recall certain facts which--well, which I fear I cannot deny."

"But you must," I urged. "Deny everything. Then he will expose his hand, and we shall know how to deal with him in order to checkmate his plans."

"Very well," answered the desperate woman. "I'll do my best. But if I fail you must not blame me."

"You are clever, Lady Stanchester, and with your woman's diplomacy and quick inventiveness I am sure you can face the difficulty and overcome it. Go," I urged. "You must appear at dinner gay and merry, as though you had not a serious thought in the world. Your careless att.i.tude will then puzzle him from the very outset. Act as I tell you, and if you want advice at any moment, come to me."

She thanked me, and turning slowly went out to dress for the terrible ordeal which she knew too well was before her. And when she had gone I sat in my chair for a long time, plunged in thought.

The mystery was a.s.suming even greater and more remarkable proportions.

The chief problem at the moment was the motive of the mysterious guest.

Who was this man Keene of whom both Lolita and Lady Stanchester were in such deadly fear? What power did he possess over them?

Times without number had I asked myself that self-same question, but no solution of the enigma presented itself. The mystery was now even more dark and inscrutable than it had been at the outset. The puzzle was maddening. So I rose with a sigh, and went up to my room to dress with a distinct feeling precursory of some untoward event about to occur in the Stanchester household, and a fervent hope that the young Countess would hold her own successfully in the desperate fight with this man whom she declared to be her very worst enemy.