Misfortunes rarely come singly. Theodore was so damaged by Basil that he was compelled to keep to his rooms, and had his meals sent up to him. Apart from his physical pain, the schemer was very satisfied with the result of the comedy he had played in the smoking-room. Lurking unseen at the corner of the house, he had beheld Patricia in his brother's arms, and could believe the evidence of his own eyes that the Rubicon had been crossed. Nevertheless, he felt a pang at losing the girl, for apart from her psychic powers, which would have been extremely useful to him in his studies, she was so pretty and charming that a less susceptible man than Dane would have regretted the success of another. But Theodore had by this time decided that he could not have his cake and eat it, so it was necessary to lose either Beckleigh or Patricia. It was characteristic of his greedy nature that he had sacrificed the girl for the estate.
No doubt Mara's hint that she might go with Akira to Japan had urged him to the course he had adopted, for with both his brother and his cousin out of the way, Dane did not see how he could lose Beckleigh. He was the only one save these two who had the Colpster blood in his veins, and even though his uncle disliked him, he could scarcely pass him over. With aching limbs Theodore lay snug in bed, building castles in the air. Next day he intended to arouse the old man's jealousy by telling him of the embrace, of the kisses, and of the probable engagement. Then the lovers would be turned out of the house. Later, when Akira came round in his yacht, Mara would go, and he would be lord of all he surveyed. No wonder Theodore chuckled.
But then came the second misfortune, and an even more unexpected one. Mr. Colpster was brought back from Hendle with a broken leg. He had duly driven Akira and his servant to the railway station, but had failed to find Harry Pentreddle at his lodgings. Rather annoyed, the old man had left a note, saying that the sailor was to come to Beckleigh and stay the night, so that he might repeat his story to the Danes, and then had turned homeward. But on the winding road which led down to the Hall, the horse had slipped on the rain-soaked ground, and Mr. Colpster, having foolishly tried to get out, had been thrown over the high bank. The coachman was uninjured, although, with the horse and vehicle, he had rolled down the slope. But the Squire had been picked up insensible by some labourers who had seen the accident, and had been carried into his own house with a broken leg.
Much concerned, Basil and Patricia had the Squire put to bed and sent for a doctor. Mara, in an indifferent way, expressed her sorrow, although she never offered to nurse her father. Instead of helping, she went up to her cousin's room to tell him of the accident. Not finding him in the sitting-room, she knocked at his bed-room door, and stood amazed to find that he--as she supposed--had gone to rest.
"Are you ill, Theo?" she asked, crossing to the bed.
Theodore groaned. "I had a row with Basil and he threw me out of the window."
Mara clapped her hands and her eyes sparkled. "How strong he is!" she said, which was not the sympathetic speech Theodore desired to hear. "Why did he fight you, Theo?"
"I asked Patricia to marry me and Basil cut up rough."
"No wonder!" said Mara disdainfully. "Why, any fool could have seen that Basil is in love with Patricia. He won't let anyone come near her. Oh!" she clapped her hands again and laughed gaily. "I should have liked to see you flying through the window."
"Little beast, you are," snarled Theodore. "I'm all aches and pains, and my eye is black where he struck me, damn him!"
"Would you like to see the doctor?"
"No. It's not worth sending to Hendle for the doctor. Besides, he'd only chatter. I know these local gossips."
"But the doctor is coming here. You had better let him examine you, Theo."
Theodore, from the shadow of the curtains, stared at the delicate face of his cousin. "Why is the doctor coming?"
"Oh, I quite forgot what I came up to tell you about," said Mara in a matter-of-fact tone. "Father has broken his leg."
"Broken his leg!" With a groan of pain Theodore hoisted himself on one elbow. "How did he do that?"
"The horse slipped coming down the winding road. Jarvis could not hold him up and they all fell over the bank. Father tried to get out, and broke his leg. But Jarvis and the horse are all right," ended Mara cheerfully.
"I don't believe you are sorry," said Theodore, angered at her indifference.
"I don't see what is the use of crying over spilt milk," replied the girl calmly. "If I cried my eyes out and tore my hair, it would do father no good."
"You might at least pretend to be sorry for him," growled Dane, sinking back.
"Well, I am. It's horrid to suffer pain. I'll tell him I'm sorry."
"If you tell him in that voice he'll box your ears," said Theodore grimly. "You don't display much sorrow for me, young lady."
"Because I don't feel any," said Mara coolly. "You brought it on yourself, for I told you that Basil loved Patricia. Besides, I don't like you."
"I'm not a Japanese. Eh?"
"No. You're not anything half so nice. Would you like Basil to come and see you?" she added maliciously. "I'm afraid Patricia can't, as she's attending to father."
"Oh, get out of the room and tell the cook to send up my dinner to me here as soon as she can. When I'm up again, I'll tell Uncle George everything."
"What do you mean?"
"I shall tell him that Basil and that infernal girl are engaged, and he'll give her notice to quit. And I shall tell him that you intend to run away with that beastly little Japanese."
"Oh, I haven't made up my mind what to do," said Mara, retreating to the door. "And if I decide to go with Akira, I shall do so, in spite of father or anyone else. But you won't tell, Theo; you're only too glad for me to go. You look like a great toad lying in bed."
Theodore caught up one of his slippers. "Will you clear out?"
"Mum! Mum! Mum!" jeered Mara, with an elfish laugh. "You can't do anything. And even if I do go, even if Basil does marry Patricia, you won't get Beckleigh. Mum! Mum! Mum!" And she closed the door just in time to escape the slipper which Theodore threw with all his strength.
The doctor duly arrived and put the Squire's leg in splints. The old man had recovered his senses, and considering his pain, behaved himself very well. The doctor approved of his patient's fine constitution and cheerfully said that he would soon be on his legs again. "You're not dead yet, sir," he remarked, when Colpster had been made comfortable for the night.
"I don't intend to die," said the Squire coolly. "Quite other plans are in my mind. But while I lie here I shan't have anything disturbed in the house. Patricia remember that. Should Akira's yacht arrive, you and Mara and Basil, together with Theodore and the servants, can go to his entertainment."
"Oh, we couldn't leave you like that, Mr. Colpster," said Patricia quickly.
"You can and you shall. I hate a lot of fuss." And then the doctor took Patricia out of the room to explain that the patient must be kept very quiet, else he would work himself into a fever.
"Humour him, Miss Carrol, humour him," said the doctor, as he took his leave. "To-morrow I shall come over and see him. Don't worry."
But Patricia did worry, not so much over the Squire, who was getting along fairly well considering his age, as over the fracas with Theodore. She dreaded lest he might speak to the Squire. "And then I should have to leave," said Patricia, much distressed.
"I don't see why, dearest," replied Basil, twining his brown fingers in her hair and wondering if God had ever created a more perfect woman.
The two were seated, as usual, in the smoking-room, deeming that the safest place, since Theodore since the quarrel had carefully avoided entering it. It was now three days since the accident, and since Basil had been driven to disclose his feelings. They had the house to themselves almost entirely, for Mara rarely troubled them. Theodore, although he had risen from his sick-bed with a more or less discoloured eye, kept to his own rooms, and did not even present himself at meals. He cherished a deep anger against Basil, and was sullen with Patricia as the original cause of his humiliation. The elder Dane had not a forgiving nature. Nor, indeed, did his brother feel inclined to welcome any advances. He was too much disgusted with Theodore to pardon him readily.
"I don't see why, dearest," said Basil again, and slipped his arm round Patricia's waist. "Uncle George can't kill us."
"He could turn me out of the house, and I have nowhere to go."
"There is no reason why he should turn you out. He loves you like a daughter. I'm certain of that."
Patricia sighed. "You are wrong, Basil. He loves me, certainly, but not like a daughter."
"What!" Basil scowled with a brow of thunder. "Does he dare to----"
"He dares nothing," interposed Patricia hurriedly, and placed her pink palm over his mouth to prevent further speech. "But I am certain that he wants to marry me."
"At his age. Ridiculous!"
"Why ridiculous? Older men than the Squire have married."
Basil's arm grew loose round her waist. "Do you admire him, then?"
"Of course. I both admire him and love him. Look how good he has been to me. I hadn't a shilling when he took me from The Home of Art."
"Patricia, do you mean to say----"
She stopped him again, and this time his mouth was closed with a kiss. "I mean to say that you are a dear old stupid thing, darling. I can't help myself if your uncle admires me."
"It shows his good taste. All the same----"
"All the same, I'm going to marry you, my dear. But we'll both be turned out of the house, I'm sure of that."
Basil hugged her again. "I knew you would never marry for money, dearest," he whispered.
"And if we are turned out we can live on my pay. I have to join the Mediterranean Fleet when my leave is up in a couple of months from now. My ship will be always at Malta--always calling in there, you know. We'll get a tiny flat, and you shall stay there when we're married."
"Oh, darling, that will be heaven!"
"It will be poverty," said Basil ruefully; "not what you're used to."
"My dear," she put her arm round his neck and looked into his hazel eyes, "what nonsense you talk. Since my father died I have been desperately hard up in every way, and if your uncle had not taken pity upon me, I really don't know what I should have done. I can cook and sew and look after a house splendidly. I'm just the wife for a hard-up sailor."
"You are, indeed," said Basil fervently, and would have embraced her, but that a knock came at the door. "Oh, hang it! here's Sims."
"I must attend to my duties," said Patricia, as Sims entered. "It's the butcher, of course. Go on, Sims. I'm coming to the kitchen." And Sims discreetly departed with a knowing smile, while Patricia remained for a last kiss.
The Beckleigh Hall servants saw very plainly what was taking place, and even although they were old and jealous retainers, did not resent it. Basil was an immense favourite with one and all, while Patricia during the short time she had acted as housekeeper had captured all hearts with great ease.
In the days which followed Patricia was kept closely in attendance on the Squire, since Mara would do nothing, and Colpster objected to being attended to wholly by the servants. She became rather pale and thin, which only made her the more adorable in Basil's eyes, and, unfortunately, in the eyes of her patient also. The Squire had made up his mind to ask Patricia to be his wife, notwithstanding the difference in their ages. Since Mara resolutely refused to marry either of her cousins, Colpster's pet scheme for the family to be re-established, now that the emerald had returned, fell to the ground. Failing this, he wished to make Miss Carrol his wife, and hoped that she would give him an heir in the direct line of descent. The more he thought of the scheme, the more he liked it, as he was extremely fond of Patricia, notwithstanding he had been so rude to her on the night when the Mikado Jewel had arrived so mysteriously. It never struck him that she might fall in love with a handsome young man like Basil.
Patricia saw how devoted the old man was becoming to her, and at times she was quite embarrassed by the youthful fire of his eyes. Colpster was now getting well rapidly, as it was a fortnight since the accident and the leg was mending. He remained, of course, in bed, and received various visits from the various members of his household. Theodore and Mara did not pay many visits, as the former knew that his uncle disliked him, and the latter was entirely without affection. The Squire never did expect much from Mara, as he looked upon her as weak-minded. She certainly was not, but her father never took the trouble to see what qualities she possessed. It was little wonder that Mara did not give affection, seeing that she never received any.
Mr. Colpster worried a great deal over the continued absence of Harry Pentreddle, and had frequently sent Jarvis to Hendle to inform him that he was wanted at the Hall. But Pentreddle had gone away from his lodgings without leaving any message behind, and no one--not even Isa Lee--knew where he was to be found. This absence and silence made the Squire quite uneasy, especially when he remembered that Harry had seen the emerald. He had stolen it before and--as the Squire, without any grounds to go upon, considered--he might steal it again. Haunted by this thought, Colpster gave Patricia the key of the safe and made her bring him the Jewel. He slept with it under his pillow and hugged it to his heart every day, talking meanwhile about the good luck it would bring.
"It has not brought any good luck yet, Mr. Colpster," said Patricia one evening, after her lovemaking with Basil in the smoking-room.
"How do you mean, my dear?"
"Well, in the first place, you have broken your leg; in the second, you have lost that lawsuit which----"
The Squire groaningly interrupted her: "Yes, I have lost it, worse luck, my dear. The land has gone, and my income will be diminished to eight hundred. Yes, I admit that bad luck. And the weather is really terrible too," he added, looking at the streaming window-pane. "It so rarely rains here, yet it has poured ever since my accident."
"And before then," Patricia reminded him. "The rain, by making the road slippery, caused your accident. If I were you, Mr. Colpster, I would send back the jewel to Japan with Count Akira. He is quite right: the good luck it brought to your family centuries ago has changed to bad."
"How can you believe in such rubbish!" groaned the Squire, hugging his gem.
"You believe in it," said Miss Carrol, wondering at his want of logic, "or you would let the Mikado Jewel go."
"The luck will change now," insisted Colpster, trying to persuade himself into a kindly belief. "Everything will come right."
"I hope so," said Patricia, poking the bedroom fire, before which she was kneeling. "You must write and tell me if it does."
The Squire sat up in bed and gasped. "Write and tell you?"
"Yes. I am going away."
"Nonsense! Why should you go away?"
"Mr. Colpster," said Patricia, who had brought the conversation round to this point that she might thoroughly explain herself, "you have been very good to me, and I have been very happy here. But your nephew Theodore has been rude to me; in fact, he has insulted me; so I cannot remain under the same roof with him."
"What?" the Squire's scanty hair bristled and he trembled with rage. "Has that dog of a Theodore been rude? He shall leave my house at once."
"No. That would not be fair. He is your nephew. I shall go."
"I shan't let you go, child. I love you too much to let you go. How did he insult you--what did he say? Tell me and I'll--I'll----" Rage choked his further utterance, and he sank back on his pillows.
His nurse came forward and smoothed the bedclothes. "Don't worry over the matter, Mr. Colpster. It's not worth it."
"It's worth everything when you want to leave. How did Theodore insult you?"
Patricia looked down and sketched out figures with the tip of her bronze shoe. "He is angry because I am engaged to Basil."
Colpster flung himself forward and caught her wrist. His sunken eyes filled with angry fire. "You are not engaged to Basil?" he said fiercely.
"But I am. Leave go my wrist, Mr. Colpster, or I shall go away at once."
He still held her tightly. "You shan't marry Basil. You shall marry me."
Patricia was greatly indebted to the old man, as she had admitted, and was sorry for his misplaced passion. But she was also a woman, with a woman's feeling, and did not intend to allow him to dictate to her. With a dexterous twist, she freed herself from his grip and retreated to a safe distance. "If you behave like this, I shall leave the room and never enter it again," she exclaimed, angry at his want of self-control.
The threat brought the Squire to his knees. "No! no! Don't go!" he cried in piteous tones. "I can't live without you. I wish to marry you. See, Patricia, dear, I shall settle Beckleigh on you, and when the emerald brings back the good luck you shall----"
"The emerald will only bring bad luck," said Patricia, interrupting coldly. "And if you had millions I would not marry you. I love you as a daughter, and I thought that you loved me in the same way. Basil and I are engaged and intend to get married in a few months."
"He has no money," wailed the Squire, clutching the sheets; "no money."
"I don't care. He is the man I love."
"He has no right to ask you to marry him."
"If he had not asked me, Mr. Colpster, I believe I should have asked him," was the girl's quick answer. "Can't you understand that he is the only man in the world for me? If you don't, then the sooner I leave this house the better. You have no right to dictate to me, and I won't allow it."
"I'll cut Basil out of my will. I shall leave the property to Theodore."
"That is a matter for your own consideration," said Patricia coldly. "Now it's time for your beef-tea, and I must go and get it."
"I shan't take it," cried the Squire childishly.
"Mr. Colpster, for a man of your years you are very silly."
"My years--my years; you reproach me with those!"
"I reproach you with nothing," said Miss Carrol, tired of the futile argument. "Can't you see that if you go on like this I must leave?"
"No, don't," he implored, with wild eyes. "I'll be good."
"Very well," she said, in a matter-of-fact tone. "Now I shall get your beef-tea," and for that purpose she left the room.
Left alone, Mr. Colpster whimpered a little. He was old, he was sick, and he was very sorry for himself. He had sought to woo a girl who was young enough to be his daughter, and his wooing had taken the fashion of trying to bribe her with house and land and money. To this insult she had retorted by showing him the mother that is hidden in every woman, married or unmarried. He felt like a naughty boy who had been put in the corner, and at his age he did not like the new experience. He could have kicked himself for having gone on his knees to be whipped, for that was what it amounted to. In the darkness--it was evening, and there was no light in the big bed-room save that of the fire--he flushed and burned with shame. How, indeed, could she, having found her mate in a young man of her own age, beautiful and ardent as she was, be expected to accept his Philistine offer of beeves and land?
The Squire, with all his oddities, was a gentleman, and as he came from a brave race he was a man. His age, his fantasy about refounding the family, his sickness, had all landed him in this slough. It behoved him, if he wished ever again to look his ancestors' portraits in the face, to get out of the quagmire and reassert his manhood as well as his good breeding. Patricia should marry Basil and become his niece-in-law. Mara could be given an income to indulge in her fantasies, and he could live at Beckleigh with Mr. and Mrs. Colpster, which was to be the married name of the young couple. In the middle of these visions, Patricia returned with the beef-tea and a lamp. The naughty boy came out of his corner to beg pardon.
"My dear," he said, in an apologetic voice, "I'm an old fool."
"Oh, no," said Patricia kindly; "you are just one who has cried for the moon."
"I give the moon to Basil," said the Squire, holding out his hand. "And he will be my heir. Forgive me."
"Willingly," said Miss Carrol, and they shook hands gravely.
"But I agree with you," sighed Colpster, ending the scene; "the jewel has brought bad luck."
Count Akira did not return so soon to Beckleigh as he had promised, for he wrote that official business still detained him in London. But during the third week after his departure, his yacht,The Miko, steamed into the fairy bay and cast anchor a quarter of a mile off shore. It was Basil who espied her first immediately after breakfast, and he ran up a flag on the pole erected on the lawn.The Mikodipped her ensign in reply, and shortly a boat put off, which doubtless was bringing Akira on his return visit. Basil walked down to the beach to meet him.
There was a tiny pier on the right of the beach which ran into deep water, and the boat made for this. Basil, with his hands in his pockets, stared at the yacht. She was a graceful boat of some two thousand tons, and her hull was painted white while her one funnel was darkly blue. The chrysanthemum flag of Japan streamed from one of her mast-heads, and she looked a singularly beautiful object as she rocked on the blue waters of the bay. Basil judged from her lines that she was swift. But he had little time to take in much, as the boat which approached at a furious pace was a small steam launch. She came alongside the pier in a few minutes.
"And how is my good friend Dane?" asked Akira, hoisting himself up like a monkey and removing his cap. "You see, I am here as promised."
They shook hands, and Basil thought that Akira looked very workmanlike in his smart blue yachting dress. A wiry brown lithe little man was the Japanese, keen-eyed and alert. The most casual observer could see that, if necessary, he could make himself very disagreeable.
"I am glad to see you again, Akira," said Basil; "come up to the house."
The Count gave a few directions to the officer in charge of the launch and then placed himself at his friend's disposal. "All are well in your family, I hope?" he remarked, as they strolled up through the woods.
"My uncle has broken his leg, I regret to say."
"Indeed!" Akira looked shocked. "I am very sorry. How did it happen?"
Basil gave him a hasty description of the accident. "In fact, Akira," he added, with a puzzled look, "since you went away everything has gone wrong."
"What do you mean?" asked the Japanese quietly, and his face became entirely devoid of emotion.
"What I say. My uncle broke his leg and has lost a lawsuit, which he hoped to gain. Theodore and I have quarrelled, and the house is as dull as tombs."
"I hope Miss Carrol is not dull?" observed Akira politely.
Dane turned swiftly to observe the expression of the little man's face. He had said more than he meant to say on the impulse of the moment, and now that he had said so much, he deliberately said more. Apparently Akira, who was very sharp, had noted, during his visit, symptoms of lovemaking. It was just as well to let him know how matters stood, for, after all, the Japanese was not a bad little fellow. "Miss Carrol is engaged to marry me," said Basil, drawing a deep breath.
"I congratulate you, but I am not surprised. I saw much when I was here on my visit"--he paused; then went on shrewdly, "I do not wonder that you have had a quarrel with your brother."
"Never mind that, Akira," said Basil hastily; "I really did not intend to tell you that. It slipped out."
Akira nodded. "You must permit me to send you and Miss Carrol a present from my own country when I reach it," he remarked, changing the subject.
"It is very good of you. I am sure Miss Carrol will be delighted. When do you sail for the East?"
"To-morrow. I have secured an excellent appointment at Tokio."
"It is very good of you to anchor here, and delay your journey," said Basil cordially; and Akira gave a little laugh as the young man spoke.
"Oh, I had a reason," he said coolly. "I never do anything without a reason, Dane. I shall tell my reason to Mr. Colpster, if he is to be seen."
"Oh, yes. He is out of bed, although he has not yet left his room. The leg is mending splendidly, and he lies mostly on the sofa in his bedroom. I am sure he will be delighted to see you."
"And Miss Mara? Will she be delighted?"
Basil again gave a side glance, but was far from suspecting why the remark had been made. "Don't you make her dance any more," said Dane, nervously.
"No, I promise you that I won't do that," answered Akira, his face again becoming so unemotional that Basil could not tell what he was thinking about; "but you have not answered my question."
"Here is Mara to answer for herself," said Dane, and he spoke truly, for as they advanced towards the front door of the house, it opened suddenly and Mara flew out with sparkling eyes.
"Count Akira. I am so glad to see you again. Is that your boat? What a nice boat she is. When did you arrive and what are----"
"Mara, Mara, Mara!" remonstrated Basil laughing, "how can the man answer so many questions all at once?"
"I would need Gargantua's mouth as your Shakespeare says," observed Akira with a quiet smile, and his eyes also sparkled at the sight of the girl.
"Come inside, Akira, and I will tell Miss Carrol," said Dane hospitably.
He stepped into the house, but Akira did not follow immediately. He lingered behind with Mara, and, after a glance at the many windows of the house, he gave her hand a friendly shake. But his words were warmer than his gesture, for they were meant for Mara's private ear, while the handshake was for the benefit of any onlooker.
"I have come, you see. You are glad?" and his black eyes looked volumes.
Mara nodded, and from being a pale lily became a dewy rose. "Of course. Did I not promise to love you for seven lives?"
"Your father will not understand that," said Akira dryly.
Mara started. "Will you tell him?" she asked anxiously.
The Count bowed stiffly. "I am a Japanese gentleman," he said in cool and high-bred tones, "and so I can do nothing against my honour. I cannot take you with me unless your father consents."
"But he will not," breathed Mara, becoming pale with emotion.
"He will. Already this morning he has received a long letter from me, which I sent from London. It explains how I love you, and asks for your hand."
"But you are not of my religion!" whispered Mara distressed; "he may object to that."
"I think not, as your father, from what I saw, is of no particular religion himself. I have a special license in my pocket. We can be married to-day in your own church and by your own priest. When we reach Japan we can be married according to Shinto rites."
"But your family?"
"I have my uncle in London. On hearing all about you, he has agreed. There will be no trouble with my family."
Mara, still nervous, would have asked further questions and would have put forward further objections, but that Patricia made her appearance at the door. She looked singularly beautiful, although she was not so in Akira's eyes. He preferred the small features and colourless looks of Mara. Patricia's face was too boldly cut and too highly coloured to be approved of by an Oriental.
"How are you, Count?" said Miss Carrol, shaking hands.
"Very well; and you? But I need not ask, Miss Carrol." Akira laughed in a very sympathetic way for him. "Dane has told me."
"Oh!" Patricia blushed.
"I wish you all happiness, and may you be united for seven lives."
"What does that mean?"
"I know! I know!" cried Mara, clapping her hands and jumping; "in Japan we all believe in reincarnation, and lovers promise each other to love during seven earth-seasons."
"But you are not a Japanese, Mara," said Patricia, wondering that the girl should so boldly couple herself with Akira.
"Yes, I am," Mara asserted decidedly; "my body is English, but my soul is Japanese. I know now that I was a Miko in the Temple of Kitzuki three hundred years ago, and that I loved him," she pointed to Akira, who smiled assentingly.
"Oh, what nonsense!" said Miss Carrol, rather crossly; "it is your imagination, you silly child!" and then, before Mara could contradict her, she turned to the Count. "Mr. Colpster wants to see you," she remarked. "Will you follow me?"
"I want to come also," said Mara; and grasping Akira's hand she went into the house. They looked at one another adoringly and smiled.
At the bedroom door Patricia left them, as the Squire had intimated that he wished to see Akira privately. Miss Carrol therefore desired to take Mara downstairs with her, but the girl refused to go. "I have to speak to my father also," she declared obstinately, "and I must do so while the Count is present."
"As you please," replied Miss Carrol, finding it impossible to move the girl, and knowing Mara's obstinate disposition of old, "you will find me in the library when you come down."
"With Basil!" cried out Mara mischievously; and Patricia looked back to give a smiling nod. Then the two entered the bedroom.
Mr. Colpster was lying on the sofa near a large fire, wrapped in his dressing-gown, and looked thin, since his illness had rather pulled him down. He also appeared to be somewhat cross, and shook at Akira several sheets of blue paper with an angry air.
"I received your letter this morning," he said sharply, and without greeting his visitor in any way.
"That is good," said Akira politely, "it will save me the trouble of an explanation, Mr. Colpster."
"I think not," growled the Squire. "I must know more, and in any case I do not intend to consent."
"Oh, father, you must!" cried Mara, indignantly.
"Go down stairs, child," said her father quickly; "I wish to speak alone with this--this gentleman."
But Mara stood her ground. "What the Count has to say concerns me," she declared obstinately. "I shan't go!"
Colpster stormed vainly, while Akira looked on passively. But nothing would move Mara from the position which she had taken up. She simply laughed at her father, and in the end he had to yield a grudging consent to her remaining in the room.
"And now, sir," he said, when this was settled and again shaking the sheets of blue paper at Akira. "I understand from this that you wish to marry my daughter Mara. Of course, it is quite impossible!"
"Why?" asked Akira calmly, and holding Mara's hand.
"Because you are not an Englishman," spluttered the Squire.
"If I was a Frenchman, or a German, you would not object!" retorted the Count coolly. "Why not say that it is because I am not a European!"
"Very good then, I say it. You are of the yellow race, and Mara is of the white. Marriage between you is ridiculous."
"I don't think so, sir."
Mara looked at her father disdainfully. "I don't know why you talk so," she said with a shrug. "I intend to marry Count Akira to-day, and go away with him to-morrow, to Japan in our yacht."
"Our yacht, indeed!" echoed the Squire angrily, and then stared at the pale obstinate face of his daughter, framed in a nimbus of feathery golden hair. "Oh you are a minx! You never loved me!"
"I can't help that," said Mara doggedly; "I never loved anyone until I met with the Count. I couldn't understand myself until I danced that night in the drawing-room. Danced the Miko-kagura."
"What is that? What is she talking about?" Colpster turned to Akira.
The Count explained politely. "When I came here, sir, I noticed that Miss Colpster was greatly interested in what I had to say about my own country. And often, when I told her of things, she said that she remembered them."
"How could that be when she has never been out of England?"
"That is what puzzled me, until I, one night--by way of an experiment and to convince myself--placed on the fire some incense used in the Temple of Kitzuki, and played on a flute the music of the Miko-kagura, which is a holy dance. Miss Colpster rose and performed it perfectly. Then all the past came back to her, as she told me later."
"What past?" demanded the Squire, much bewildered.
"The past of her life in Japan, three hundred years ago."
"Oh, that is rubbish!"
"It is true!" cried Mara in a thrilling voice, and raised her arms. "I was a Miko of the Kitzuki Temple three hundred years ago. That is why I remembered about the emerald, when Theodore sent me into a trance. And for the same reason I could describe the shrine. I loved the Count then, when we wore other bodies, and promised to love him for seven lives. This time I have been born in England, but he has come for me here, and I am going with him to my native land."
"Oh, you are quite mad!" said Colpster furiously.
"Mad or sane, let me marry her, Mr. Colpster!" pleaded Akira. "From my letter you can see that I am going to occupy an excellent official position at Tokio, and that I am of very high rank in Japan, besides being wealthy. I love your daughter, because, I truly believe--strange as it may seem to you--that we loved three hundred years ago. I have a special license in my pocket, and if you consent we can go to your church this day and get married according to your religion. When we reach Japan we shall be married according to mine. Do you consent?"
"No! It's ridiculous! You have only known Mara a few weeks."
"I have loved her for three hundred years!" insisted Akira, smiling.
"I don't believe in that rubbish."
Mara seized her lover's hand. "I am tired of all this," she said in her old fashion, "why can't you leave me alone. I marry the Count!"
Colpster saw that, whether he gave his consent or not, she would certainly do so. And, after all, as he asked himself, what did it matter? Mara had never displayed any affection for any single person, since she had always lived in a dream-world of her own. Now that he had decided to leave the property to Basil and Patricia on condition that they assumed the name of Colpster, Mara was unnecessary. Finally, it was certain that she would be happier in Japan than in England, since there was evidently no future for her in the West. The Squire did not believe in reincarnation. All the same, he admitted that Mara's many oddities suggested that she was a soul born out of time and place. But that his daughter should marry one of the yellow race offended the old man's pride. He was just about to open his mouth and refuse permission again when Akira spoke blandly.
"If you consent," said Akira, "I will send you someone who can tell you who killed your housekeeper."
"How do you know?" asked Colpster, startled.
"I have been making inquiries in town. Consent, and you shall know all."
"And consent," said Mara, stepping up to her father and bending to whisper in his ear, "or I shall tell the Count that you have the emerald."
Colpster turned white. "How do you know?" he whispered back.
"I saw you slip it under your pillow one day. It is there now. If you don't let me marry the Count he shall take it from you now."
The Squire breathed heavily and dark circles appeared under his sunken eyes as Mara stepped back to stand beside her lover. He knew that his daughter did not love him, or anyone else, but he had never believed she would have spoken as she had done. Undoubtedly the theory of reincarnation was a correct one. She was an Eastern soul in a Western body. "I consent to the marriage," he said in cold, dry hard tones. "You can go to the church on the moor and get the affair settled. I cannot come myself, but Basil and Patricia can go with you. Mara, you had better tell your maid to pack your clothes, since you leave to-morrow."
"Everything is already packed," said Mara, turning at the door and looking cool and white and more shadowy than ever. "I shall come and say good-bye."
"No, don't!" shuddered the Squire, as she went out. "You go also, Akira."
The Count smiled blandly and walked to the door. "I shall keep my promise, sir, and to-night you will receive one who will be able to tell you the whole truth of what has puzzled you for so long."
When Akira disappeared, the Squire tore up the blue letter and threw the pieces into the fire. He had done with Mara: she was no longer any daughter of his. And, indeed, she never had been. Always cold: always indifferent: a very shadow of what a daughter should have been. He was well rid of her, this traitress, who would have surrendered the emerald. Colpster felt under his sofa pillow and pulled out the gem. It was wrapped in paper, and he unfolded this to gaze at it. A knock at the door made him hastily smuggle it away again. Basil entered immediately and looked worried.
"Is it true, uncle, that Akira and Mara are to be married?" he asked abruptly.
"Quite true. Akira has brought down a special license. Go with Patricia and see that all is shipshape."
"But, Uncle George, surely you don't want Mara to marry a Japanese?"
"What does it matter? Whether I give my consent or not, Mara will do what she wants to do. There is some rubbish about reincarnation between them--about loving for seven lives, or for three hundred years. I don't understand these things. But what I do understand," cried Colpster with cold fury, raising himself on his elbow, "is that Mara does not love me, and that I intend to cut her out of my will. Send Jarvis to Hendle and tell Curtis the lawyer to come over at once. You will have the property, Basil, and then can marry Patricia. Theodore can go away. I won't have him in the house after the way he has insulted your future wife. As to Mara, she can go to the devil! or to Japan. I never wish to set eyes on her again!"
"But what has she done?" asked Basil, bewildered.
The Squire could have told him, but did not intend to, since that would mean revealing that the Mikado Jewel was under the sofa pillow. "Never mind; I am well rid of her, and so are you, and so are we all. Only see that this Japanese marries her properly."
Dane argued, implored and stormed, but all to no purpose. His uncle vowed that if Mara remained, he would turn her penniless from the house, and Basil was sufficiently acquainted with his obstinate character to be certain that he would keep his word. Under the circumstances it seemed reasonable that Mara should lie on the bed she had made and the young man, making the best of a bad job, went away to get Patricia. He would act as Akira's best man, and Patricia could follow Mara as her solitary bridesmaid. Whatever might be the outcome of this sudden arrangement, Basil determined to see that the marriage was legal. And when he saw the joy and delight of Mara and the lover-like attentions of Akira, he began to think that his uncle had acted for the best. In the face of Mara's obstinacy, nothing else could be done, although Basil, being a true Englishman, did not relish the Japanese as a cousin-in-law. All the same, he approved of Akira's fine qualities, and knew that from a worldly point of view Mara was making a brilliant match.
Obeying instructions, he sent Jarvis for the Hendle lawyer, when, with the prospective bride and bridegroom, he and Patricia were on their way to the quaint old church on the moor, where so many Colpsters were buried. The clergyman could not disobey a special license, so that was all right, and he hoped to return later with the pair married. Indeed, had Basil possessed a special license himself, he also would have stood before the altar with Patricia, but such things were far beyond the means of a poor lieutenant of His Majesty's Navy.
Meanwhile, the Squire received Curtis and made a new will, which made no mention of Mara and Theodore, but left the entire Colpster estates to Basil, provided that he took the family name and married Patricia Carrol. When the testament had been duly signed, sealed and delivered, the Squire decided to keep it in his possession until the morrow, so that he could show it to the young couple. Curtis wished to take it with him, but Colpster refused, and finally departed without even a copy of the document. However, he promised to call the next day and take it with him for safety. Just as the lawyer departed, Theodore entered the bedroom.
"What's all this about?" he asked sharply.
His uncle looked at him with a frown. "What do you mean entering my room without knocking?" he demanded in his turn.
"I beg your pardon," said Theodore with forced politeness, "but everything seems at sixes and sevens since that infernal yacht came in. All the servants are getting themselves ready to go to the entertainment to-night, and I can't get anyone to answer my bell."
"Wait until Miss Carrol returns and she will see to things," said Colpster indifferently. "I can't be bothered."
"Where is Miss Carrol? I have been in my room all day, and when I came down I couldn't find anyone."
"Basil and Patricia have gone to attend the marriage of Mara and Akira."
Theodore stepped back and then stepped forward. He could scarcely believe his ears. "Have you allowed that?" he asked in consternation.
"Yes. Akira is a good match, and Mara loves him."
"But he's a Japanese?"
"What does that matter?"
"I don't believe in marriages between members of different races."
Colpster looked at him cynically. "What the devil does it matter what you believe! I agreed to the marriage for two, or rather, for three reasons. In the first place, Mara would have married in any case had I not consented. In the second, she threatened, if I did not agree, to tell Akira about the emerald, which he would then have taken from me. In the third place, Akira said that if I agreed, he would send someone to-night to tell me all about the murder of Martha and reveal the name of the person who did it."
"It was the priest with the scar on his cheek who did it," said Theodore in vigorous tones. "Will he--Akira that is--send him?"
"I don't know. Don't bother me!" said the Squire, turning over on his pillows. "I'll see him when you are all out of the house."
"I'm not going to that infernal entertainment," said Theodore snappishly, "as I don't approve of Mara marrying that yellow man. I shall stay here and listen to what this emissary of Akira's has to say."
"Oh, do what you like; do what you like; only don't bother me!" said Colpster again, and very sharply. "Clear out, please!"
"All right!" Theodore went towards the door; "only I want to say one thing. Curtis has been here. Have you cut Mara out of your will?"
"Yes; although it is no business of yours. When she marries Akira, she will have plenty of money."
"Well, then, I suppose," said Theodore, shooting his arrow, "you know that Patricia and Basil are engaged?"
"Yes, I am aware of that, and I wish them joy."
"Aren't you angry, uncle?" Theodore was astounded.
"No. Why should I be? I like Patricia."
"I fancied you loved her and wished to marry her."
Colpster rolled over and glared fiercely. He was annoyed that his secret should have been discovered by Theodore, of all people, since he hated him so ardently. "I never did wish to marry Patricia," he said furiously, and telling a smooth lie. "I look upon her as a daughter. I have always looked upon her as a daughter. When Basil told me that she had consented to be his wife, I was delighted. I am delighted."
"Oh!" growled Theodore, wincing and thrusting his hands deep into his pockets; "so you brought Curtis over to alter your will!"
"Yes! I have left everything to Basil and Patricia!"
"What about me?" Theodore by this time was ghastly pale.
"Oh, you can go to the devil!" said his uncle carelessly. "You insulted Miss Carrol, so I pay you out. The will cutting you off is here," he patted his pocket.
Before Theodore could express the rage which consumed him, there came the sound of advancing feet and the laughter of happy people. The door was suddenly thrown open by Basil, and Patricia entered, followed by the bridegroom and the bride, arm-in-arm English fashion.
"Allow me," said Patricia gaily, and in a ringing voice, "to present to you, Mr. Colpster, the Count and Countess Akira."