Witness to the Deed Part 81

Stratton's hand went to his breast, and the next minute he drew out a soiled letter doubled up into three from the pressure of his pocketbook.

"You wrote this letter to me to tell me you were coming here?" said Stratton in slow, strange accents.

"Of course I did, and I tell you that you have done a mean, cruel thing in following me. It can do no good; Sir Mark will be furious, and it is cruel to Myra."

"Myra--Myra here!" gasped Stratton as he reeled against the wall.

"Don't make a scene, man," said Guest in a low whisper. "Of course; I told you she was coming, and how the old man insisted upon my coming too. Why, you haven't opened the letter!"

"No," said Stratton in a hoa.r.s.e whisper.

"Then how came you here?"

"I--Heaven only knows!" said Stratton. "It is beyond me."

Guest looked at him curiously, as if he doubted his word.

"We only came to-day. Had to stop at place after place; Myra is so weak and ill."

Stratton groaned.

"Yes," said Guest; "that's better. Now look here. You and I will start off at daybreak for home. It's hard on me, but it must be done."

"Yes. I saw you two--on the sands to-night. I was not sure. But tell me, where are they staying?"

"At a little chateau-like place on the cliff; they got it through a woman they knew at Saint Malo a couple or three years ago. She was servant there. She is nurse now to an invalid gentleman staying at a cottage just below."

Stratton stood gazing at his friend as if he had been turned to stone.

CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.

AND ALL IN VAIN.

Guest stood looking at his friend for a few moments, half astonished, half annoyed.

"Look here," he said at last, taking his arm and drawing it through his own, "we can't talk freely in this place. Come out and have a cigar on the sands."

Stratton made no reply, but walked out with him like a man who had been stunned, Guest taking the direction opposite to that in which the admiral's temporary home lay. Then, stopping short by the ebbing sea, he drew out his cigar case and offered it; but it was waved aside.

"Quite right," said Guest shortly; "we can't smoke now. Look here, old fellow, I shouldn't be your friend if I did not speak out when you were in the wrong. You must have known we were coming here, and you must see now that you have done, as I said, a cruel thing in coming; so give me your word as a man of honour that you will be ready to start with me in the morning first thing."

"I tell you I did not know they were coming here," said Stratton in a deep, solemn tone; "I tell you I did not follow you, and I tell you that I cannot leave here with you in the morning."

"Then how in the world did you come here?"

"I don't know. I suppose it was fate."

"Bosh! Who believes in fate? Don't talk nonsense, man. I am horribly sorry for you, as sorry as I can be for a man who is my friend, but who has never trusted or confided in me; but I stand now toward the admiral and Myra in such a position that I cannot keep aloof and see them insulted--well, I will not say that--see their feelings hurt by the reckless conduct of a man who is in the wrong."

"In the wrong?" said Stratton involuntarily.

"Yes, in the wrong. You have wronged Myra."

Stratton sighed.

"And made her the wreck she is. I don't say you could have made things better by speaking out--that is your secret--but I do say you could make matters better by keeping away."

"Yes, I must go away as soon as possible."

"You will, then?" cried Guest eagerly. "In the morning?"

"No; yes, if I can get away."

"That's quibbling, man; an excuse to get near and see her," cried Guest angrily.

"I swear it is not," cried Stratton. "You will not believe me even after seeing your letter--which I had forgotten--was unopened."

"I can't, Mal. I wish to goodness I could."

"Never mind. I can say no more."

"You mean that you will say no more," said Guest shortly.

"I mean what I said," replied Stratton.

"Very well. You must take your road; I must take mine."

Stratton was silent, and Guest turned short round on his heel, took a couple of steps away, but turned back.

"Mal, old chap, you make me wild," he cried, holding out his hand. "I know it's hard to bear--I know how you loved her, but sacrifice self for your honour's sake; be a man, and come away. There, I'll walk with you to the post town. You'll come?"

"I cannot yet."

"Why?"

"It is better that I should not tell you," replied Stratton firmly.

"Will you trust me?"

"Will you confide in me, and tell me all your reasons for this strange conduct?"

"Some day; not now."

"You will not trust me, and you ask me to trust you. It can't be done, man; you ask too much. Once more, are we to be friends?"

"Yes."