"Why not?" the Duke asked coldly. "It is I who am your employer. It is I who am responsible to the country for these things. You are responsible only to me. I choose that you remain. I choose that you speak of this matter only when I bid you speak."
To me it was relief immeasurable. The Duke's manner was precise, even cold. Yet I felt that he believed in me. I scarcely doubted but that he had suspicions of his own. I, at any rate, was not involved in them. I could have wrung him by the hand but for the inappropriateness of such a proceeding. So far as he was concerned I could see that the matter was already done with. His attention was beginning to wander to the mass of letters before him.
"Would you allow me to help your Grace with your correspondence?" I suggested. "I have no work at present."
The Duke shook his head impatiently.
"I thank you," he said. "My man of business will be here this morning, and he will attend to them. I will not detain you, Mr. Ducaine."
I turned to leave the room, but found myself face to face with a young man in the act of entering it.
"Blenavon!" the Duke exclaimed.
"How are you, sir?" the newcomer answered. "Sorry I didn't arrive in time to see you last night. We motored from King's Lynn, and the whole of this respectable household was in bed."
I knew at once who he was. The Duke looked towards me.
"Ducaine," he said, "this is my son, Lord Blenavon."
Lord Blenavon's smile was evidently meant to be friendly, but his expression belied it. He was slightly taller than his father, and his cast of features was altogether different. His cheeks were pale, almost sunken, his eyes were too close together, and they had the dimness of theroueor the habitual dyspeptic. His lips were too full, his chin too receding, and he was almost bald.
"How are you, Mr. Ducaine?" he said. "Awful hour to be out of bed, isn't it? and all for the slaying of a few fat and innocent birds. Let me see, wasn't I at Magdalen with you?"
"I came up in your last year," I reminded him.
"Ah, yes, I remember," he drawled. "Terrible close worker you were, too. Are you breakfasting down stairs, sir?"
"I think that I had better," the Duke said. "I suppose you brought some men with you?"
"Half a dozen," Lord Blenavon answered, "including his Royal Highness."
The Duke thrust all his letters into his drawer, and locked them up with a little exclamation of relief.
"I will come down with you," he said. "Mr. Ducaine, you will join us."
I would have excused myself, for indeed I was weary, and the thought of a bath and rest at home was more attractive. But the Duke had a way of expressing his wishes in a manner which it was scarcely possible to mistake, and I gathered that he desired me to accept his invitation. We all descended the stairs together.
The long dining-room was almost filled with a troop of guests who had arrived on the previous day. Most of the men were gathered round the huge sideboard, on which was a formidable array of silver-covered hot-water dishes. Places were laid along the flower-decked table for thirty or forty. I stood apart for a few moments whilst the Duke was greeting some of his guests. Ray, who was sitting alone, motioned me to a place by him.
"Come and sit here, Ducaine," he said; "that is," he added, with a sudden sarcastic gleam in his dark eyes, "unless you still have what the novelists call an unconquerable antipathy to me. I don't want to rob you of your appetite."
"I did not expect to see you down here again so soon, Colonel Ray," I answered gravely. "I congratulate you upon your nerves."
Ray laughed softly to himself.
"You would have me go shuddering past the fatal spot, I suppose, with shaking knees and averted head, eh? On the contrary, I have been down on the sands for more than an hour this morning, and have returned with an excellent appetite."
I looked at him curiously.
"I saw you returning," I said. "Your boots looked as though you had been wading in the wet sand. You were not there without a purpose."
"I was not," he admitted. "I seldom do anything without a purpose."
For a moment he abandoned the subject. He proceeded calmly with his breakfast, and addressed a few remarks to a man across the table, a man with short cropped hair and beard, and a shooting dress of sombre black.
"You are quite right," he said, turning towards me suddenly. "I had a purpose in going there. I thought that the gentleman whose untimely fate has enlisted your sympathies might have dropped something which would have been useful to me."
For the moment I forgot this man's kindness to me. I looked at him with a shudder.
"If you are in earnest," I said, "I trust that you were unsuccessful."
I fancied that there was that in his glance which suggested the St.Bernard looking down on the terrier, and I chafed at it.
"It would have been better for you," he said, grimly, "had my search met with better result."
"For me?" I repeated.
"For you! Yes! The man came to see you. If he had been alive you might have been in his toils by now. He was a very cunning person, and those who sent him were devils."
"How do you know these things?" I asked, amazed.
"From the letters which I ripped from his coat," he answered.
"He came to Braster to see me, then?" I exclaimed.
"Precisely."
"And the letters which you took from him—were they addressed to me?"
"They were."
I was getting angry, but Ray remained imperturbable.
"I think," I said, "you will admit that I have a right to them."
"Not a shadow of a doubt of it," he answered. "In fact, it was so obvious that I destroyed them."
"Destroyed my letters!"
"Precisely! I chose that course rather than allow them to fall into your hands."
"You admit, then," I said, "that I had a right to them."
"Indubitably. But they do not exist."
"You read them, without doubt. You can acquaint me with their contents."
"Some day," he said, "I probably shall. But not yet. Believe me or not, as you choose, but there are certain positions in which ignorance is the only possible safe state. You are in such a position at the present moment."
"Are you," I asked, "my moral guardian?"
"I have at least," he said, "incurred certain responsibilities on your behalf. You could no longer hold your present post and be in communication with the sender of those letters."
My anger died away despite myself. The man's strength and honesty of purpose were things which I could not bring myself to doubt. I continued my breakfast in silence.
"By-the-bye," he remarked presently, "you, too, my young friend, were out early this morning."
"I was writing all night," I answered. "I had documents to put in the safe."
He shot a quick searching glance at me.
"You have been to the safe this morning, then?"
I answered him with a composure at which I inwardly marvelled.
"Certainly! It was the object of my coming here."
"You entered the room with the Duke. Was he in the study at that hour?"
"No, I went upstairs to him. I had a question to ask."
"And you have met Lord Blenavon? What do you think of him?"
"We were at Magdalen together for a term," I answered. "He was good enough to remember me."
Ray smiled, but he did not speak another word to me all the breakfast-time. Once I made a remark to him, and his reply was curt, almost rude. I left the room a few minutes afterwards, and came face to face in the hall with Lady Angela.
"I am glad, Mr. Ducaine," she remarked, "that your early morning labours have given you an appetite. You have been in to breakfast, have you not?"
"Your father was good enough to insist upon it," I answered.
"You have seen him already this morning, then?"
"For a few minutes only," I explained. "I went up to his room."
"I trust so far that everything is going on satisfactorily?" she inquired, raising her eyes to mine.
I did not answer her at once. I was engaged in marvelling at the wonderful pallor of her cheeks.
"So far as I am concerned, I think so," I said. "Forgive me, Lady Angela," I added, "but I think that you must have walked too far this morning. You are very pale."
"I am tired," she admitted.
There was a lounge close at hand. She moved slowly towards it, and sat down. There was no spoken invitation, but I understood that I was permitted to remain with her.
"Do you know," she said, looking round to make sure that we were alone, "I dread these meetings of the Council. I have always the feeling that something terrible will happen. I knew Lord Ronald very well, and his mother was one of my dearest friends. I am sure that he was perfectly innocent. And to-day he is in a madhouse. They say that he will never recover."
I did not wish to speak about these things, even with Lady Angela. I tried to lead the conversation into other channels, but she absolutely ignored my attempt.
"There is something about it all so grimly mysterious," she said. "It seems almost as though there must be a traitor, if not in the Council itself, in some special and privileged position."
She looked up at me as though asking for confirmation of her views. I shook my head.
"Lady Angela," I said, "would you mind if I abstained from expressing any opinion at all? It is a subject which I feel it is scarcely right for me to discuss."
She looked at me with wide-open eyes, a dash of insolence mingled with her surprise. I do not know what she was about to say, for at that moment the young man with the sombre shooting suit and closely cropped hair paused for a moment on his way out of the breakfast-room. He glanced at me, and I received a brief impression of an unwholesome-looking person with protuberant eyeballs, thin lashes, and supercilious mouth.
"I trust that the day's entertainment will include something more than a glimpse of Lady Angela," he said, with a low bow.
She raised her eyes. It seemed to me, who was watching her closely, that she shrank a little back in her seat. I was sure that she shared my instinctive dislike of the man.
"I think not," she said. "Perhaps you are expecting me to come down with the lunch and compliment you all upon your prowess."
"It would be delightful!" he murmured.
She shook her head.
"There are too many of you, and I am too few," she said lightly. "Besides, shooting is one of the few sports with which I have no sympathy at all. I shall try and get somewhere away from the sound of your guns."
"I myself," he said, "am not what you call a devotee of the sport. I wonder if part of the day one might play truant. Would Lady Angela take pity upon an unentertained guest?"
"I should find it a shocking nuisance," she said, coolly. "Besides, it would not be allowed. You will find that when my father has once marshalled you, escape is a thing not to be dreamed of. Every one says that he is a perfect martinet where a day's shooting is concerned."
He smiled enigmatically. "We shall see," he remarked, as he turned away. Lady Angela watched him disappear. "Do you know who that is?" she asked me. I shook my head. "Some one French, very French," I remarked. "He should be," she remarked. "That is Prince Henri de Malors. He represents the hopes of the Royalists in France."
"It is very interesting," I murmured. "May I ask is he an old family friend?"
"Our families have been connected by marriage," she answered. "He and Blenavon saw a great deal of one another in Paris, very much to the disadvantage of my brother, I should think. I believe that there was some trouble at the Foreign Office about it."
"It is very interesting," I repeated.
"Blenavon was very foolish," she declared. "It was obviously a most indiscreet friendship for him, and Paris was his first appointment. But I must go and speak to some of these people."
She rose and left me a little abruptly. I escaped by one of the side entrances, and hurried back to my cottage.
The Prince accepted my most comfortable easy chair with an air of graceful condescension. Lady Angela had already seated herself. It was late in the afternoon, and Grooton was busy in the room behind, preparing my tea.
"The Prince did not care to shoot to-day," Lady Angela explained, "and I have been showing him the neighbourhood. Incidentally, I am dying for some tea, and the Prince has smoked all his cigarettes."
The Prince raised his hand in polite expostulation, but he accepted a cigarette with a little sigh of relief.
"You have found a very lonely spot for your dwelling-house, Mr.Ducaine," he said. "You English are so fond of solitude."
"It suits me very well," I answered, "for just now I have a great deal of work to do. I am safely away from all distractions here."
Lady Angela smiled at me.
"Not quite so safe perhaps, Mr. Ducaine, as you fondly imagined," she remarked. "I am afraid that we disturbed you. You look awfully busy."
She glanced towards my writing-table. It was covered with papers, and a map of the southern counties leaned up against the wall. The Prince also was glancing curiously in the same direction.
"I have finished my work for the day," I said, rising. "If you will permit me, I will put it away."
Grooton brought in tea. The Prince was politely curious as to the subject matter of those closely written sheets of paper.
"You are perhaps interested in literature, Mr. Ducaine," he remarked.
"Immensely," I answered, waving my hand towards my bookshelves.
"But you yourself—you no doubt write?"
"Oh, one tries," I answered, pouring out the tea.
"It may be permitted then to wish you success," he remarked dryly.
"You are very good," I answered.
Lady Angela calmly interposed. The Prince ate buttered toast and drank tea with a bland affectation of enjoyment. They rose almost immediately afterwards.
"You are coming up to the house this evening, Mr. Ducaine?" Lady Angela asked.
"I am due there now," I answered. "If you will allow me, I will walk back with you."
The Prince touched my arm as Lady Angela passed out before us.
"I am anxious, Mr. Ducaine," he said, looking me in the face, "for a few minutes' private conversation with you. I shall perhaps be fortunate enough to find you at home to-morrow."
He did not wait for my answer, for Lady Angela looked back, and he hastened to her side. He seemed in no hurry, however, to leave the place. The evening was cloudy and unusually dark. A north wind was tearing through the grove of stunted firs, and the roar of the incoming sea filled the air with muffled thunder. The Prince looked about him with a little grimace.
"It is indeed a lonely spot," he remarked. "One can imagine anything happening here. Did I not hear of a tragedy only the other day—a man found dead?"
"If you have a taste for horrors, Prince," I remarked, "you can see the spot from the edge of the cliff here."
The Prince moved eagerly forward.
"I disclaim all such weakness," he said, "but the little account which I read, or did some one tell me of it?—ah, I forget; but it interested me."
I pointed downwards to where the creek-riven marshes merged into the sands.
"It was there—a little to the left of the white palings," I said. "The man was supposed to have been cast up from the sea."
He measured the distance with his eye. I anticipated his remark.
"The tide is only halfway up now," I said, "and on that particular night there was a terrible gale."
"Nevertheless," he murmured, half to himself, "it is a long way. Was the man what you call identified, Mr. Ducaine?"
"No!"
"There were no letters or papers found upon him?"
"None."
The Prince looked at me sharply.
"That," he said softly, "was strange. Does it not suggest to you that he may have been robbed?"
"I had not thought of it," I answered. "The verdict, I believe, was simply Found drowned."
"Found drowned," the Prince repeated. "Ah! Found drowned.By-the-bye," he added suddenly, "who did find him?"
"I did," I said coolly.
"You?" The Prince peered at me closely through the dim light. "That," he said reflectively, "is interesting."
"You find it so interesting," I remarked, "that perhaps you could help to solve the question of the man's identity."
He seemed startled.
"I?" he exclaimed. "But, no. Why should you think that?"
I turned to join Lady Angela. He did not immediately follow.
"Why did you bring him?" I asked her softly. "You had some reason."
"He was making inquiries about you," she answered, "secretly and openly. I thought you ought to know, and I could think of no other way of putting you on your guard."
"The Prince of Malors!" I murmured. "He surely would not stoop to play the spy."
She was silent, and moved a step or two farther away from the spot where he still stood as though absorbed. His angular figure was clearly defined through the twilight against the empty background of space. He was on the very edge of the cliff, almost looking over.
"I know very little about him myself," she said hurriedly, "but I have heard the others talk, Lord Chelsford especially. He is a man, they say, with a twofold reputation. He has played a great part in the world of pleasure, almost a theatrical part; but, you know, the French people like that."
"It is true," I murmured. "They love their heroes decked in tinsel."She nodded.
"They say that it is part of a pose, and that he has serious political ambitions. He contemplates always some great scheme which shall make him the idol, if only for a day, of the French mob. A day would be sufficient, for he would strike while—Prince, be careful," she called out. "Ah!"
We heard a shrill cry, and we saw the Prince sway on the verge of the cliff. He threw up his arms and clutched wildly at the air, but he was too late to save himself. We saw the ground crumble beneath his feet, and with a second cry of despair he disappeared.
Grooton, Lady Angela, and I reached the edge of the cliff at about the same moment. We peered over in breathless anxiety. Lady Angela clutched my arm, and for a moment I did not in the least care what had happened to the Prince.
"Don't be frightened," I whispered. "The descent is not by any means sheer. He can't possibly have got to the bottom. I will clamber down and look for him,"
She shuddered.
"Oh, you mustn't," she exclaimed. "It is not safe. How terrible it looks down there!"
I raised my voice and shouted. Almost immediately there came an answer.
"I am here, my friends, in the middle of a bush. I dare not move. It is so dark I cannot see where to put my foot. Can you lower me a lantern, and I will see if I can climb up?"
Grooton hastened back to the cottage.
"I think you will be all right," I cried out. "It is not half as steep as it looks."
"I believe," he answered, "that I can see a path up. But I will wait until the lantern comes."
The lantern arrived almost immediately. We lowered it to him by a rope, and he examined the face of the cliff.
"I think that I can get up," he cried out, "but I should like to help myself with the rope. Can you both hold it tightly?"
"All right," I answered. "We've got it."
He clambered up with surprising agility. But as he reached the edge of the cliff he groaned heavily.
"Are you hurt?" Lady Angela asked.
"It is my foot," he muttered, "my left foot. I twisted it in falling."
Grooton and I helped him to the cottage. He hobbled painfully along with tightly clenched lips.
"I shall have to ask for a pony cart to get up to the house, I am afraid," he said. "I am very sorry to give you so much trouble, Mr. Ducaine."
"The trouble is nothing,". I answered, "but I am wondering how on earth you managed to fall over the cliff."
"I myself, I scarcely know," he answered, as he sipped the brandy which Grooton had produced. "I am subject to fits of giddiness, and one came over me as I stood there looking down. I felt the ground sway, and remember no more. I am very sorry to give you tall this trouble, but indeed I fear that I cannot walk."
"We will send you down a cart," I declared. "You will have rather a rough drive across the grass, but there is no other way."
"You are very kind," he declared. "I am in despair at my clumsiness."
I gave him my box of cigarettes. Lady Angela hesitated.
"I think," she said, "that I ought to stay with you, Prince, while Mr.Ducaine goes up for the cart."
"Indeed, Lady Angela, you are very kind," he answered, "but I could not permit it. I regret to say that I am in some pain, and I have a weakness for being alone when I suffer. If I desire anything Mr. Ducaine's servant will be at hand."
So we left him there. At any other time the prospect of that walk with Lady Angela would have filled me with joy. But from the first moment of leaving the cottage I was uneasy.
"What do you think of that man?" I asked her abruptly. "I mean personally?"
"I hate him," she answered coolly. "He is one of those creatures whose eyes and mouth, and something underneath his most respectful words, seem always to suggest offensive things. I find it very hard indeed to be civil to him."
"Do you happen to know what Colonel Ray thinks of him?" I asked her.
"I have no special knowledge of Colonel Ray's likes or dislikes," she answered.
"Forgive me," I said. "I thought that you and he were very intimate, and that you might know. I wonder whether he takes the Prince seriously."
"Colonel Ray is one of my best friends," she said, "but I am not in his confidence."
A slight reserve had crept into her tone. I stole a glance at her face; paler and more delicate than ever it seemed in the gathering darkness. Her lips were firmly set, but her eyes were kind. A sudden desire for her sympathy weakened me.
"Lady Angela," I said, "I must talk to some one. I do not know whom to trust. I do not know who is honest. You are the only person whom I dare speak to at all."
She looked round cautiously. We were out of the plantation now, in the open park, where eavesdropping was impossible.
"You have a difficult post, Mr. Ducaine," she said, "and you will remember—"
"Oh, I remember," I interrupted. "You warned me not to take' it. But think in what a position I was. I had no career, I was penniless. How could I throw away such a chance?"
"Something has happened—this morning, has it not?" she asked.
I nodded.
"Yes."
She waited for me to go on. She was deeply interested. I could hear her breath coming fast, though we were walking at a snail's pace. I longed to confide in her absolutely, but I dared not.
"Do not ask me to tell you what it was," I said. "The knowledge would only perplex and be a burden to you. It is all the time like poison in my brain."
We were walking very close together. I felt her fingers suddenly upon my arm and her soft breath upon my cheek.
"But if you do not tell me everything—how can you expect my sympathy, perhaps my help?"
"I may not ask you for either," I answered sadly. "The knowledge of some things must remain between your father and myself."
"Between my father—and yourself!" she repeated.
I was silent, and then we both started apart. Behind us we could hear the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching, soft quick footsteps, muffled and almost noiseless upon the spongy turf. We stood still.
I wheeled round and peered into the darkness. Lady Angela's fingers clutched my arm. I could feel that she was trembling violently. It was Grooton whose figure loomed up almost immediately before us—Grooton, bareheaded and breathless. "What is it?" I exclaimed quickly. "I think, sir, that you had better return," he panted.
He pointed over his shoulder towards the "Brand," and I understood. In a moment I was on my way thither, running as I had not done since my college days. I stumbled over antheaps, and more than once I set my foot in a rabbit hole, but somehow I kept my balance. As I neared the cottage I slackened my speed and proceeded more stealthily. I drew close to the window and peered in. Grooton had been right indeed to fetch me. The Prince was standing before my desk, with a bundle of papers in his hand. I threw open the door and entered the room. Swift though my movement had been, a second's difficulty with the catch had given the Prince his opportunity. He was back in his easy chair when I entered, reclining there with half-closed eyes. He looked up at me with well simulated surprise.
"You are soon back, Mr. Ducaine," he remarked calmly. "Did you forget something?"
"I forgot," I answered, struggling to recover my breath, "to lock up my desk."
"An admirable precaution," he admitted, watching as I gathered my papers together, "especially if one has valuables. It is an exposed spot this, and very lonely."
"I am curious," I said, leaning against the table and facing him, "I am curious to know which of my poor possessions can possibly be of interest or value to the Prince of Malors."
The calm hauteur of his answering stare was excellently done. I had a glimpse now of the aristocrat.
"You speak in enigmas, young man," he said. "Kindly be more explicit."
"My language can scarcely be more enigmatic than your actions," I answered. "I was fool enough to trust you and I left you here alone. But you were not unobserved, Prince. My servant, I am thankful to say, is faithful. It was he who summoned me back."
"Indeed!" he murmured.
"I might add," I continued, "that I took the liberty of looking in through the side window there before entering."
"If it amused you to do so, or to set your servant to spy upon me," he said, "I see no reason to object. But your meaning is still unexplained."
"The onus of explanation," I declared, "appears to me to rest with you, Prince. I offered the hospitality of my room, presumably to a gentleman—not to a person who would seize that opportunity to examine my private papers."
"You speak with assurance, Mr. Ducaine."
"The assurance of knowledge," I answered. "I saw you at my desk from outside."
"You should consult an oculist," he declared. "I have not left this chair. My foot is still too painful."
"You lie well, Prince," I answered, "but not well enough."
He looked at me thoughtfully.
"I am endeavouring," he said, "to accommodate myself to the customs of this wonderful country of yours. In France one sends one's seconds. What do you do here to a man who calls you a liar?"
"We treat him," I answered hotly, "as the man deserves to be treated who abuses the hospitality of a stranger, and places himself in the position of a common thief."
The Prince shrugged his shoulders lightly, and helped himself to one of my cigarettes.
"You are very young, Mr. Ducaine," he said, looking at me thoughtfully. "You have no doubt your career to make in the world. So, in a greater sense of the word, have I. I propose, if you will allow me, to be quite frank with you."
"I have no wish for your confidences, Prince," I answered. "They cannot possibly concern or interest me."
"Do not be too sure of that," he said. "Like all young men of your age, you jump too readily at conclusions. It is very possible that you and I may be of service to one another, and I may add that those who have been of service to the Prince of Malors have seldom had cause to regret it."
"This conversation," I interposed, "seems to me to be beside the point. I have no desire to be of service to you. My inclinations are rather the other way."
"The matter may become more clear to you if you will only curb your impatience, my young friend," the Prince said. "It is only my ambition to serve my country, to command the gratitude of a nation which to-day regards both me and mine with mingled doubt and suspicion. I have ambitions, and I should be an easy and generous master to serve."
"I am honoured with your confidence, Prince, but I still fail to see how these matters concern me," I said, setting my teeth hard.
"With your permission I will make it quite clear," he continued. "For years your War Office has suffered from constant dread of an invasion by France. The rumour of our great projected manoeuvres in the autumn have inspired your statesmen with an almost paralysing fear. They see in these merely an excuse for marshalling and equipping an irresistible army within striking distance of your Empire. Personally I believe that they are entirely mistaken in their estimate of my country's intentions. That, however, is beside the mark. You follow me?"
"Perfectly," I assured him. "This is most interesting, although as yet it seems to me equally irrelevant."
"Your War Office," the Prince continued, "has established a Secret Council of Defence, whose only task it is to plan the successful resistance to that invasion, if ever it should take place. You, Mr. Ducaine, are, I believe, practically the secretary of that Council. You have to elaborate the digests of the meetings, to file schemes for the establishment of fortifications and camps; in a word, the result of these meetings passes through your hands. I will not beat about the bush, Mr. Ducaine. You can see that you have something in your keeping which, if passed on to me, would accomplish my whole aim. The army would be forced to acknowledge my claim upon them; the nation would hear of it."
"Well," I asked, "supposing all you say is true? What then?"
"You are a little obtuse, Mr. Ducaine," the Prince said softly. "If twenty thousand pounds would quicken your understanding—"
I picked up a small inkpot from the side of the table and hurled it at him. He sprang aside, but it caught the corner of his forehead, and he gave a shrill cry of pain. He struck a fierce blow at me, which I parried, and a moment later we were locked in one another's arms. I think that we must have been of equal strength, for we swayed up and down the room, neither gaining the advantage, till I felt my breath come short and my head dizzy. Nevertheless, I was slowly gaining the mastery. My grasp upon his throat was tightening. I had hold of his collar and tie, and I could have strangled him with a turn of my wrist. Just then the door opened. There was a quick exclamation of horrified surprise in a familiar tone. I threw him from me to the ground, and turned my head. It was Lady Angela who stood upon the threshold.
Lady Angela looked at us both in cold surprise.
"Mr. Ducaine! Prince!" she exclaimed. "What is the meaning of this extraordinary exhibition?"
The Prince, whose sangfroid was marvellous, rose to his feet, and began to wipe his forehead with a spotless cambric handkerchief.
"My dear Lady Angela," he said, "I am most distressed that you should have been a witness of this—extraordinary incident. I have been trying to adapt myself to the methods of your country, but, alas! I cannot say that I am enamoured of them. Here, it seems, that gentlemen who differ must behave like dustmen. Will you pardon me if I turn my back to you for a moment? I see a small mirror, and I am convinced that my tie and collar need readjustment."
"But why quarrel at all?" she exclaimed. "Mr. Ducaine," she added, turning coolly to me, "I trust you have remembered that the Prince is my father's guest."
I was speechless, but the Prince himself intervened.
"The blame, if any," he declared, "was mine. Mr. Ducaine appeared to misunderstand me from the first. I believe that his little ebullition arose altogether from too great zeal on behalf of his employers. I congratulate him upon it, while I am bound to deprecate his extreme measures."
"And you, Mr. Ducaine," she asked, turning towards me, "what have you to say?"
"Nothing," I declared, stung by her tone and manner as much as by his coolness, "except that I found the Prince of Malors meddling with my private papers, and subsequently I interrupted him in the offer of a bribe."
The Prince smoothed his necktie, which he had really tied very well, complacently.
"The personal belongings of Mr. Ducaine," he said calmly, "are without interest to me. I fancy that the Prince of Malors can ignore any suggestions to the contrary. As for the bribe, Mr. Ducaine talks folly. I am not aware that he has anything to sell, and I decline to believe him a blackmailer. I prefer to look upon him as a singularly hot-headed and not over-intelligent person, who takes very long jumps at conclusions. Lady Angela, I find my foot much better. May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the house?"
I held my tongue, knowing very well that the Prince played his part solely that I might be entrapped into speech. But Lady Angela seemed puzzled at my silence. She looked at me for a moment inquiringly out of her soft dark eyes. I made no sign. She turned away to the Prince.
"If you are sure that you can walk without pain," she said. "We will not trouble you, Mr. Ducaine," she added, as I moved to open the door.
So they left me alone, and I was not sure whether the honours remained with him or with me. He had never for a moment lost his dignity, nor had he even looked ridiculous when calmly rearranging his tie and collar. I laughed to myself bitterly as I prepared to follow them. I was determined to lay the whole matter before the Duke at once.
As I reached the terrace I saw a man walking up and down, smoking a pipe. He stood at the top of the steps and waited for me. It was Colonel Ray. He took me by the arm.
"I have been waiting for you, Ducaine," he said. "I was afraid that I might miss you, or I should have come down."
"I am on my way to the Duke," I said, "and my business is urgent."
"So is mine," he said grimly. "I want to know exactly what has passed between you and the Prince of Malors."
"I am not at all sure, Colonel Ray," I answered, "that I am at liberty to tell you. At any rate, I think that I ought to see the Duke first."
His face darkened, his eyes seemed to flash threatening fires upon me. He was smoking so furiously that little hot shreds of tobacco fell from his pipe.
"Boy," he exclaimed, "there are limits even to my forbearance. You are where you are at my suggestion, and I could as easily send you adrift. I do not say this as a threat, but I desire to be treated with common consideration. I appeal to your reason. Is it well to treat me like an enemy?"
"Whether you are indeed my friend or my enemy I am not even now sure," I answered. "I am learning to be suspicious of every person and thing which breathes. But as for this matter between the Prince and myself, it can make little difference who knows the truth. He shammed a fall over the cliff and a sprained ankle. Lady Angela and I started for the house to send a cart for him, but, before we were halfway across the Park, Grooton fetched me back. I found the Prince examining the papers on which I had been working, and when I charged him with it he offered me a bribe."
"And you?"
"I struck him!"
Ray groaned.
"You struck him! And you had him in your power—to play with as you would. And you struck him! Oh, Ducaine, you are very, very young. I am your friend, boy, or rather I would be if you would let me. But I am afraid that you are a blunderer."
I faced him with white face.
"I seem to have found my way into a strange place," I answered. "I have neither wit nor cunning enough to know true men from false. I would trust you, but you are a murderer. I would have trusted the Prince of Malors, but he has proved himself a common adventurer. So I have made up my mind that all shall be alike. I will be neither friend nor foe to any mortal, but true to my country. I go my way and do my duty, Colonel Ray."
He blew out dense volumes of smoke, puffing furiously at his pipe for several minutes. There seemed to be many things which he had it in his mind to say to me. But, as though suddenly altering his purpose, he stood on one side.
"You shall go your own way," he said grimly. "The Lord only knows where it will take you."
It took me in the first place to the Duke, to whom I recounted briefly what had happened. I could see that my story at once made a deep impression upon him. When I had finished he sat for several minutes deep in thought. For the first time since I had known him he seemed nervous and ill at ease. He was unusually pale, and there were deep lines engraven about his mouth. One hand was resting upon the table, and I fancied that his fingers were shaking.
"The Prince of Malors," he said at last, and his voice lacked altogether its usual ring of cool assurance, "is of Royal blood. He is not even in touch with the political powers of France to-day. He may have been guilty of a moment's idle curiosity—"
"Your Grace must forgive me," I interrupted, "but you are overlooking facts. The fall over the cliff was premeditated, the sprained foot was a sham, the whole affair was clearly planned in order that he might be left alone in my room. Besides, there is the bribe."
The Duke folded his hands nervously together. He looked away from me into the fire.
"It is a very difficult position," he declared, "very difficult indeed. The Prince has been more than a friend to Blenavon. He has been his benefactor. Of course he will deny this thing with contempt. Let me think it out, Ducaine."
"By all means, your Grace," I answered, a little nettled at his undecided air. "So far as I am concerned, my duty in the matter ends here. I have, told you the exact truth concerning it, and it seems to me by no means improbable that the Prince has been in some way responsible for those former leakages."
The Duke shook his head slowly.
"It is impossible," he said.
"Your Grace is the best judge," I answered.
"The Prince was not in the house last night when the safe was opened, he objected.
"He probably has accomplices," I answered. "Besides, how do we know that he was not here?"
"Even if he were," the Duke said, raising his head, "how could he have known the cipher?"
I made no answer at all. It seemed useless to argue with a man who had evidently made up his mind not to be convinced.
"Have you mentioned this matter to any one?" the Duke asked.
"To Colonel Ray only, your Grace," I answered.
"Ray!" The Duke was silent for a moment. He was looking steadily into the fire. "You told Ray what you have told me?"
"In substance, yes, your Grace. In detail, perhaps not so fully."
"And he?"
"He did not doubt my story, your Grace," I said quietly.
The Duke frowned across at me.
"Neither do I, Ducaine," he declared. "It is not a question of veracity at all. It is a question of construction. You are young, and these things are all new to you. The Prince might have been trying you, or something which you did not hear or have forgotten might throw a different light upon his actions and suggestion. I beg that you will leave the matter entirely in my hands."
I abandoned the subject then and there. But as I left the room I came face to face with Blenavon, who was loitering outside. He at once detained me. His manner since the morning had altered. He addressed me now with hesitation, almost with respect.
"Can you spare me a few minutes, Mr. Ducaine?" he asked. "I will not detain you long."
"I am at your service, Lord Blenavon," I answered. "We will go into the hall and have a smoke," he suggested, leading the way. "To me it seems the only place in the house free from draughts."
I followed him to where, in a dark corner of the great dome-shaped hall, a wide cushioned lounge was set against the wall. He seated himself and motioned me to follow his example. For several moments he remained silent, twisting a cigarette with thin nervous fingers stained yellow with nicotine. Every now and then he glanced furtively around. I waited for him to speak. He was Lady Angela's brother, but I disliked and distrusted him.
He finally got his cigarette alight, and turned to me.
"Mr. Ducaine," he said, "I want you to apologize to my friend, thePrince of Malors, for your behaviour this afternoon."
"Apologize to the Prince!" I exclaimed. "Why should I?"
"Because this is the only condition on which he will consent to remain here."
"I should have thought," I said, "that his immediate departure was inevitable. I detected him in behaviour—"
"That is just where you are wrong," Blenavon interrupted eagerly. "You were mistaken, entirely mistaken."
I laughed, a little impolitely, I am afraid, considering that this was the son of my employer.
"You know the circumstances?" I asked. He nodded.
"The Prince has explained them to me. It was altogether a misunderstanding. He felt his foot a little easier, and he was simply looking for a newspaper or something to read until you returned. Inadvertently he turned over some of your manuscript, and at that moment you entered."
"Most inopportunely, I am afraid," I answered, with an unwilling smile."I am sorry, Lord Blenavon, that I cannot accept this explanation of thePrince's behaviour. I am compelled to take the evidence of my eyes andears as final."
Blenavon sucked at his cigarette fiercely for a minute, threw it away, and commenced to roll another.
"It's all rot!" he exclaimed. "Malors wouldn't do a mean action, and, besides, what on earth has he to gain? He is a fanatical Royalist. He is not even on speaking terms with the Government of France to-day."
"I perceive," I remarked, looking at him closely, "that you are familiar with the nature of my secretarial work."
He returned my glance, and it seemed to me that there was some hidden meaning in his eyes which I failed to catch.
"I am in my father's confidence," he said slowly.
There was a moment's silence. I was listening to a distant voice in the lower part of the hall.
"Am I to take it, Mr. Ducaine, then," he said at last, "that you decline to apologize to the Prince?"
"I have nothing to apologize for," I answered calmly. "The Prince was attempting to obtain information in an illicit manner by the perusal of papers which were in my charge."
Blenavon rose slowly to his feet. His eyes were fixed upon the opposite corner of the hall. Lady Angela, who had just descended the stairs, was standing there, pale and unsubstantial as a shadow, and it seemed to me that her eyes, as she looked across at me, were full of trouble. She came slowly towards us. Blenavon laid his hand upon her arm.
"Angela," he said, "Mr. Ducaine will not accept my word. I can make no impression upon him. Perhaps he will the more readily believe yours."
"Lady Angela will not ask me to disbelieve the evidence of my own senses," I said confidently.
She stood between us. I was aware from the first of something unfamiliar in her manner, something of which a glimmering had appeared on our way home through the wood.
"It is about Malors, Angela," he continued. "You were there. You know all that happened. Malors is very reasonable about it. He admits that his actions may have seemed suspicious. He will accept an apology from Mr. Ducaine, and remain."
She turned to me.
"And you?" she asked.
"The idea of an apology," I answered, "appears to me ridiculous. My own poor little possessions were wholly at his disposal. I caught him, however, in the act of meddling with papers which are mine only on trust."
Lady Angela played for a moment with the dainty trifles which hung from her bracelet. When she spoke she did not look at me.
"The Prince's explanation," she said, "is plausible, and he is our guest. I think perhaps it would be wisest to give him the benefit of the doubt."
"Doubt!" I exclaimed, bewildered. "There is no room for doubt in the matter."
Then she raised her eyes to mine, and I saw there new things. I saw trouble and appeal, and behind both the shadow of mystery.
"Have you spoken to my father?" she asked.
"Yes," I answered.
"Did he accept—your view?"
"He did not," I answered bitterly. "I could not convince him of what I saw with my own eyes."
"You have done your duty, then," she said softly. "Why not let the rest go? As you told us just now, this is not a personal matter, and there are reasons why he did not wish the Prince to leave suddenly."
I was staggered. I held my peace, and the two stood watching me. ThenI heard footsteps approaching us, and a familiar voice.
"What trio of conspirators is this talking so earnstly in the shadows?Ah!"
The Prince had seen me, and he stood still. I faced him at once.
"Prince," I said, "it has been suggested to me that my eyesight is probably defective. It is possible in that case that I have not seen you before to-day, that the things with which I charge you are false, that in all probability you were in some other place altogether. If this is so, I apologize for my remarks and behaviour towards you."
He bowed with a faint mirthless smile.
"It is finished, my young friend," he declared. "I wipe it from my memory." It seemed to me that I could hear Blenavon's sigh of relief, that the shadow had fallen from Lady Angela's face. There was a little murmur of satisfaction from both of them. But I turned abruptly, and with scarcely even an attempt at a conventional farewell I left the house, and walked homewards across the Park.
After three days the house party at Rowchester was somewhat unexpectedly broken up. Lord Chelsford departed early one morning by special train, and the Duke himself and the remainder of his guests left for London later on in the day. I remained behind with three weeks' work, and a fear which never left me by day or by night. Yet the relief of solitude after the mysteries of the last few days was in itself a thing to be thankful for.
For nine days I spoke with no one save Grooton. For an hour every afternoon, and for rather longer at night, I walked on the cliffs or the sands. Here on these lonely stretches of empty land I met no one, saw no living thing save the seagulls. It was almost like a corner of some forgotten land. These walks, and an occasional few hours' reading, were my sole recreation.
It was late in the afternoon when I saw a shadow pass my window, and immediately afterwards there was a timid knock at the door. Grooton had gone on his daily pilgrimage with letters to the village, so I was obliged to open it myself. To my surprise it was Blanche Moyat who stood upon the threshold. She laughed a little nervously.
"I'm no ghost, Mr. Ducaine," she said, "and I shan't bite!"
"Forgive me," I answered. "I was hard at work and your knock startled me. Please come in."
I ushered her into my sitting-room. She was wearing what I recognized as her best clothes, and not being entirely at her ease she talked loudly and rapidly.
"Such a stranger as you are, Mr. Ducaine," she exclaimed. "Fancy, it's getting on for a month since we any of us saw a sign of you, and I'm sure never a week used to pass but father'd be looking for you to drop in. We heard that you were living here all by yourself, and this morning mother said, perhaps he's ill. We tried to get father to come up and see, but he's off to Downham market to-day, and goodness knows when he'd find time if we left it to him. So I thought I'd come and find out for myself."
"I am quite well, thanks, Miss Moyat," I answered, "but very busy. The Duke has been giving me some work to do, and he has lent me this cottage, so that I shall be close at hand. I should have looked you up the first time I came to Braster, but as a matter of fact I have not been there since the night of my lecture."
She was nervously playing with the fastening of her umbrella, and it seemed to me that her silence was purposeful. I ventured some remark about the weather, which she interrupted ruthlessly.
"It's a mile and a half to our house from here," she said, "not a step farther. I don't see why you shouldn't have made a purpose journey."
I ignored the reproach in her eyes, as I had every right to do. But I began to understand the reason of her nervousness and her best clothes, and I prayed for Grooton's return.
"If I had had an evening to myself," I said, "I should certainly have paid your father a visit. But as it happens, the Duke has required me at the house every night while he was here, and he has left me enough work to do to keep me busy night and day till he comes back."
She looked down upon the floor.
"I had to come and see you," she said in a low tone. "Sometimes I can't sleep for thinking of it. I feel that I haven't done right."
I knew, of course, what she meant.
"I thought we had talked all that out long ago," I answered, a little wearily. "You would have been very foolish if you had acted differently. I don't see how else you could have acted."
"Oh, I don't know," she said. "We were always brought up very particular—especially about telling the truth."
"Well, you haven't said anything that wasn't the truth," I reminded her.
"Oh, I don't know. I haven't said what I ought to say," she declared. "It seems all right when you are with me, and talk about it," she continued slowly, raising her eyes to mine. "It's when I don't see you for weeks and weeks that it seems to get on my mind, and I get afraid. I don't understand it, I don't understand it even now."
"Don't understand what?" I repeated.
She looked around. Her air of troubled mystery was only half assumed.
"How that man died!" she whispered.
"I can assure you that I did not kill him, if that is what you mean," I told her coolly. "The matter is over and done with. I think that you are very foolish to give it another thought."
She shuddered.
"Men can forget those things easier," she said. "Perhaps he had a wife and children. Perhaps they are wondering all this time what has become of him."
"People die away from their homes and families every day, every hour," I answered. "It is only morbid to brood over one particular example."
"Father would never forgive me if he knew," she murmured, irrelevantly."He hates us to do anything underhand."
I heard Grooton return with a sigh of relief.
"You will have some tea," I suggested.
She shook her head and stood up. I did not press her.
"No, I won't," she said. "I am sorry I came. I don't understand you, Mr. Ducaine. You seem to have changed altogether just these last few weeks. I can see that you are dying to get rid of me now, but you were glad enough to see me, or at any rate you pretended to be, once."
My breath was a little taken away. I looked at her in surprise. Her cheeks were flushed, her voice had shaken with something more like anger than any form of pathos. I was at a loss how to answer her, and while I hesitated the interruption which I had been praying for came, though from a strange quarter. My door was pushed a few inches open, and I heard Lady Angela's clear young voice.
"Are you there, Mr. Ducaine? May I come in?"
Before I could answer she stood upon the threshold, I saw the delightful little smile fade from her lips as she looked in. She hesitated, and seemed for a moment about to retreat.
"Please come in, Lady Angela," I begged, eagerly.
She came slowly forward.
"I must apologize for my abominable country manners," she said, resting the tips of her fingers for a moment in mine. "I saw your door was not latched, and it never occurred to me to knock."
"It was not necessary," I assured her. "A front door which does not boast a knocker or a bell must expect to be taken liberties with. But it is a great surprise to see you here. I had no idea that any one was at Rowchester, or expected there, except Lord Blenavon. Has the Duke returned?"
She shook her head.
"I came down alone," she answered. "I found London dull. Let me see, I am sure that I know your face, do I not?" she added, turning to Blanche Moyat with a smile. "You live in Braster, surely?"
"I am Miss Moyat," Blanche answered quietly.
"Of course. Dear me! I ought to have recognized you. We have been neighbours for a good many years."
"I will wish you good-afternoon, Mr. Ducaine," Blanche said, turning to me. "Good-afternoon—your Ladyship," she added a little awkwardly.
I opened the door for her.
"I will come down and see your father the first evening I have to spare," I said. "I hope you will tell him from me that I should have been before, but for the luxury of having some work to do."
"I will tell him," she said almost inaudibly.
"And thank you very much for coming to inquire after me," I added."Good-afternoon."
"Good-afternoon, Mr. Ducaine."
I closed the door. Lady Angela was lounging in my easy chair with a slight smile upon her lips.
"Two lady callers in one afternoon, Mr. Ducaine," she remarked quietly."You will lose your head, I am afraid."
"I can assure you, Lady Angela," I answered, "that there is not the slightest fear of such a catastrophe."
She sat looking meditatively into the fire, swinging her dogskin gloves in her hands. She wore a plain pearl grey walking dress and deerstalker hat with a single quill in it. The severe but immaculate simplicity of her toilette might have been designed to accentuate the barbarities of Blanche Moyat's cheap finery.
"I understood that you would be in town for at least three weeks," I remarked. "I trust that his Grace is well."
"I trust that he is," she answered. "I see nothing of him in London. He has company meetings and political work every moment of his time. I do not believe that there is any one who works harder."
"He has, at least," I remarked, "the compensation of success."
"You are wondering, I suppose," she said, looking up at me quickly, "what has brought me back again so soon."
"I certainly did not expect you," I admitted.
She rose abruptly.
"Come outside," she said, "and I will show you. Bring your hat."
We passed into the March twilight. She led the way down the cliff and towards the great silent stretch of salt marshes. An evening wind, sharp with brine, was blowing in from the ocean, stirring the surface of the long creeks into silent ripples, and bending landwards the thin streaks of white smoke rising amongst the red-tiled roofs of the village. I felt the delicate sting of it upon my cheeks. Lady Angela half closed her eyes as she turned her face seawards.
"I came for this," she murmured. "There is nothing like it anywhere else."
We stood there in silence for several long minutes. Then she turned to me with a little sigh.
"I am content," she said. "Will you come up and dine with us to-night?Blenavon will be there, you know." I hesitated.
"I am afraid it is rather a bother to you to leave your work," she continued, "but I am not offering you idle hospitality. I really want you to come."
"In that case," I answered, "of course I shall be delighted."
She pointed to Braster Grange away on the other side of the village. I noticed for the first time that it was all lit up.
"Have you heard anything of our new neighbours?" she asked.
"Only their names," I answered. "I did not even know that they had arrived."
"There is only a woman, I believe," she said. "I have met her abroad, and I dislike her—greatly. I hear that my brother spends most of his time with her, and that he has dined there the last three nights. It is not safe or wise of him, for many reasons. I want to stop it. That is why I have asked you to come to us."
"It is quite sufficient," I told her. "If you want me for any reason I will come. I am two days ahead of my work."
We threaded our way amongst the creeks. All the time the salt wind blew upon us, and the smell of fresh seaweed seemed to fill the air with ozone. Just as we came in sight of the road we heard the thunder of hoofs behind. We turned around. It was Blenavon, riding side by side with a lady who was a stranger to me. Her figure was slim but elegant. I caught a glimpse of her face as they flashed by, and it puzzled me. Her hair was almost straw coloured, her complexion was negative, her features were certainly not good. Yet there was something about her attractive, something which set me guessing at once as to the colour of her eyes, the quality of her voice, if she should speak. Blenavon reined in his horse.
"So you have turned up, Angela," he remarked, looking at her a little nervously. "You remember Mrs. Smith-Lessing, don't you—down at Bordighera, you know?"
Angela shook her head, but she never glanced towards the woman who sat there with expectant smile.
"I am afraid that I do not," she said. "I remember a good many things about Bordighera, but—not Mrs. Smith-Lessing. I shall see you at dinner-time, Blenavon. I have some messages for you."
I saw the whip come down upon the woman's horse, but I did not dare to look into her face. Blenavon, with a smothered oath and a black look at his sister, galloped after her. I rejoined Lady Angela, who was already in the road.
"Dear me," she said, "what a magnificent nerve that woman must have! To dare to imagine that I should receive her! Why, she is known in every capital in Europe—a police spy, a creature whose brains and body and soul are to be bought by any one's gold."
"What on earth can such a woman want here?" I remarked.
"In hiding, very likely," Lady Angela remarked. "Or perhaps she may be an additional complication for you."
I laughed a little scornfully.
"You, too, are getting suspicious," I declared. "The Prince and Mrs.Smith-Lessing are a strong combination."
"Be careful then that they are not too strong for you," she answered, smiling. "I have heard a famous boast of Mrs. Smith-Lessing's, that never a man nor a lock has yet resisted her."
I thought of her face as I had seen it in the half light—a faint impression of delicate colourlessness, and for the life of me I could not help a little shiver. Lady Angela looked at me in surprise.
"Are you cold?" she asked. "Let us walk more quickly."
"It is always cold at this time in the evening," I remarked. "It is the mist coming up from the marshes. One feels it at unexpected moments."
"I am not going to take you any farther," she declared, "especially as you are coming up to-night. Eight o'clock, remember. Go and salve your conscience with some work."
I protested, but she was firm. So I stood by the gate and watched her slim young figure disappear in the gathering shadows.