It was with extraordinary feelings that Lord Prelice emerged from that mystic room into the everyday world of Bond Street. After the refusal to declare the name of the person who had worn the dress Madame Marie had become silent, and Prelice raised his head, to see her standing rigid and white between the painted windows. The white smoke had disappeared into thin air, and save that the strong tuberose scent still lingered behind, there was nothing to show what had placed her in the trance. Obedient to instructions, the young man left the still figure in the lonely room, and passed through the outer apartment on his way down the stairs. The boy, cross-legged in the corner, looked up anxiously as he went out.
"You have said nothing?" he breathed apprehensively.
"Nothing," answered Prelice softly, and descended the stairs. When he stood in the street again he removed his hat, and drew a long breath of the smoky London air. Impure as it was, it dispelled the slight dizziness which the odour of the Sacred Herb had produced. Then the young man chartered a hansom to reach his rooms in Half-Moon Street; but not until he was in his very own den, and seated in an armchair with a brandy and soda within reach, did he find time to reflect. His reflections were considerably aided by a first-class cigar.
"A queer adventure," thought Prelice meditatively. "What am I to do next, I should like to know?"
Of course, the answer to this was obvious. He should go at once to Alexander Mansions, and learn if what Madame Marie said was correct. A very difficult errand to go upon, Prelice thought, as it would be hard to induce Mrs. Rover to explore her husband's dressing-room in search of evidence which might bring him into trouble. And what excuse could he make, without telling the whole truth? Then, again, Mrs. Rover might scoff at Madame Marie's astounding statement, made under such astounding conditions. Yet, on reflection, Prelice did not think that she would scoff, considering that she had consulted the fortune-teller herself, and believed in the occult. There was a considerable vein of what the vulgar call superstition in Constance Rover.
That the dress was there, Prelice had not the least doubt. Of course, on the face of it, an ordinary mortal would laugh at the idea of evidence being procured in such a way. But Prelice had travelled too widely, and he had seen too much to make him a sceptic. In Cairo, in the West Indies, in South America, and in the South Seas, he had witnessed occult ceremonies and doings, which proved clearly the existence of that Unseen World at which many people laugh, and of which all people are afraid. Drink, drugs, music, rapid movement, and even absolute stillness, are all aids to open the psychic senses, as Prelice knew very well. Madame Marie had used the fumes of the Sacred Herb to rend the spirit from the body, and he quite believed that she had gone to Alexander Mansions to make the strange discovery. When she woke from the trance she would be—according to psychic laws—quite unconscious of what she had said.
But here Lord Prelice began to doubt. Madame Marie had admitted that she knew more than Prelice imagined. Seeing that she had been at the Grange during the tragedy, and was closely connected with Jadby, it seemed very probable that she was aware of much which it was necessary to learn before the actual truth could be made manifest. So far as Prelice could judge—and he was a shrewd reader of character—the fortune-teller was entirely honest in her dealings with him. If she wished to gain Jadby as her husband it was necessary that she should be so, since only by the marriage of Lord Prelice could the girl whom the buccaneer loved be removed from her path. It was not worth her while to play Prelice false, since his aims and hers were identical. Prelice desired to marry Mona, and Madame Marie wished this also. She was anxious to make the sailor her husband, and Prelice was quite willing that this should be so, since it would put an end to Jadby's troubling, and might perhaps take him out of England. Therefore Prelice believed in Madame Marie Eppingrave.
He credited her powers also, for she had the true eyes of one who can see into the Astral World; but he could not be certain if she had used her occult powers on this occasion. She may have known beforehand of the dress, and might merely have used the trance as a means of communicating it without arousing Jadby's wrath. If the dress was found, and evidence therefrom was forthcoming likely to solve the mystery of Agstone's death, the captain, wishing to keep Mona in uneasy terror for her reputation, would be much annoyed. But then Madame Marie could explain that she had only gone into a trance for Prelice, as an ordinary client, and was unaware of what she said. Under these circumstances the buccaneer could say nothing.
"Well," said Prelice, stretching himself, and talking aloud, a habit which he had contracted when travelling in silent places, "it's rum business altogether. If the dress is in Dolly Rover's wardrobe, what then? I can't accuse him, as he certainly had no reason to kill Agstone. Humph! I wonder if this is what Horace meant when he said that I would be sorry if I searched further into the case? I certainly don't want Dolly to be hanged; but if he were, I am quite sure that Ned would console the widow. Ugh!" Prelice shivered, "what a horrible thought. Rover is a bounder and a blighter and a cad, but I honestly don't think that he is a criminal of this sort. I don't believe that he has the pluck, for one thing; and for another, he had no motive. Hum!" he reflected, "I'd best get along and see Constance."
On glancing at his watch Prelice learned that it was half-past five, and concluded that probably Mrs. Rover would be at home sipping tea, after the manner of women, worn out with shopping. He decided to give her half-an-hour, and then catch the seven train from Charing Cross to Hythe. Come what might, the young man intended to get back to Hythe that night in order to walk over and see Mona. He assured himself that she would be anxious, and would wish to learn how he had sped. But he might as well have confessed the truth to himself—namely, that he pined hungrily for a sight of her face, and that every moment passed away from her side was spent in the outer darkness. "Where there is wailing and gnashing of teeth," said Prelice to himself, quite ready to wail and gnash if he missed his train.
As fate would have it, Mrs. Rover was at home, and came forward to greet her friend in a wonderful tea-gown, which suited her queenly figure. The rose-hued blinds were down, and the room looked like the grotto of the Venusberg; but in spite of these softening aids, Mrs. Rover appeared somewhat haggard. Nor was her greeting of Prelice very friendly. Indeed, it was so harsh that he congratulated himself on finding her alone. But then had anyone else been present, she would have been all smiles and gentle words.
"How dare you come and see me after leaving as you did last time," was Mrs. Rover's polite salutation; "and I know why you went too. Yes, you may look and look, Lord Prelice, but I know. I explained your conduct to Ned, and he told me how he had described the dress to you."
"Which means!" asked Prelice calmly and unflinchingly.
"Means!" she cried in stormy tones. "It means that you believed me to be the woman who came in and waved the bronze cup under Ned's nose."
"I did believe it for one minute," confessed her friend, making a clean breast of it in view of what was coming, "but, of course, on reflection I saw how ridiculous it was to suspect you."
"It was—it was—it was!" retorted Mrs. Rover, sitting down and tapping her foot. "I have not many friends, Lord Prelice, but I did think that Dorry was one of them."
"Dorry is," he assured her.
"A fair-weather friend. Pooh! To suspect Me," she went on angrily. "Me of all people. As if I would have hurt Ned. Had it been that Chent girl, you might have had some cause."
"Speak gently about Miss Chent," said Prelice quietly.
"I sha'n't. Why should I?"
"Because I am engaged to her."
"You!" Mrs. Rover started to her feet in delighted amazement. "But Ned?"
"Ned's engagement was merely an official one to prevent Jadby——"
"Oh yes, yes! I know all about that; but I didn't believe that Ned was speaking the truth. I thought that he was throwing me over for that horrid girl. No, no! Don't look at me like that. She isn't a horrid girl now that she is engaged to you. I shall love Lady Prelice much more than I loved Mona Chent. Engaged—engaged!" Mrs. Rover made a ball of her handkerchief, and tossed it in the air. "What a rage Lady Sophia will be in."
"She is in it already," said Prelice dryly. "I don't care."
"Of course you don't. You're a man—a man. Oh, how I love a man. Not that my married life gives me any experience," she ended bitterly.
"Constance," said Prelice seriously, "sit down, and let us talk quietly about your married life."
"I don't wish to talk of it," she retorted, but nevertheless took the seat he pointed to.
"You must. I am your friend, as you very truly say——"
"I admit it, now that you are engaged to Mona. But I say, Dorry—yes, I'll call you Dorry now—I say, isn't it rather sudden? You have only known her a week or two."
"It was a case of love at first sight," said the young man very earnestly.
"Pooh! pooh! I don't believe in such a thing."
"I didn't either until I experienced the sensation; but I really did love Mona from the moment I saw her in the dock, and it was only honour which held me back from speaking even earlier."
"Honour! What honour?" asked Mrs. Rover contemptuously.
"She was supposed to be engaged to Ned, you know. Only when I learned that the engagement meant nothing was I able to speak out."
"You have very many scruples," said Mrs. Rover, with a shrug, "and evidently forget that all is fair in love and war."
"That's a purely feminine view, Constance. Had Ned really been in love with Mona, and really engaged to her, I should have left England without saying a word."
"So like a man," retorted Constance scornfully. "Why, if a dozen women loved Ned, I shouldn't give him up."
"Constance, you forget that you are married."
"I don't; Dolly never gives me a chance of forgetting."
"Constance," Prelice spoke sharply, "you are a foolish, headstrong woman. Do you want to be disgraced?"
"There is no chance of that," cried Mrs. Rover in a fury. "How dare you talk to me like that?"
"Because I see you going headlong to ruin."
"You see nothing of the sort. I am a loyal wife, to Dolly. Ned knows that I love him now as I loved him before my marriage, and you know, Dorry, as he does, how my marriage came about."
"I know, but you ought to make the best of it."
"I am making the best of it," cried Constance, rising to stamp her foot in a royal rage. "There is not a breath of scandal against my name. No one can couple my name and Ned's together. We scarcely ever meet; but we can't prevent our feelings."
"Still," urged Prelice, in rather a futile manner, "since you have elected to become Mrs. Rover, you must consider your husband."
"Let him consider me first. I made a bargain with him, and he accepted, knowing that I loved Ned, and not him. He has broken that bargain in the meanest manner, and my father died of sheer worry through the breaking of it. Now I have to stifle my deep love for Ned, and act the part of a loving wife. I feel like a hypocrite."
"I don't think you need, Constance. People say that you treat Rover badly. It is as well that you should know."
"I do know. I have heard that before. But Dolly himself put that story about. I don't love him, and I don't pretend to; but I am as obedient and kind as I can be. I told you that I treated him like a dog. So I do, like a pet dog, a dog that is fed up and smoothed and cosseted and given cream and meat and all the things poodle dogs like; but Dolly goes about posing as a husband that is badly treated. He does not dare to say that I have deceived him, however," she added, drawing a deep breath; "he would suffer for it if he did. Miserable as I am, I abide by the bargain which he broke."
"But what is to be the end of it?"
"I don't know. I don't know," wailed Mrs. Rover, pacing the room, and holding her hands to her head. "I really believe that Dolly wants to see me disgraced. He took these flats above Ned's in spite of my protestations. I want him to go away, but he won't."
"Oh," said Prelice thoughtfully, "so Mr. Rover took these flats above Ned's, did he? Purposely?"
"I don't know." Constance paused, looking startled. "Why do you ask?"
Lord Prelice considered. "Constance, I want you to do me a favour."
"Yes." Mrs. Rover spoke softly and with an effort.
"Do you think that your husband wishes to get Ned into trouble?"
Constance put her hand to her head. "He hates Ned," she said at last in a strained voice, "because he knows that Ned loves me, and I do Ned. But for all his jealous watching, he cannot find anything wrong between Ned and myself. Because," she added, drawing herself up to her full height, "there is nothing wrong, and never will be."
"You have not answered my question," repeated Prelice quietly. "Do you think that Rover wishes to get Ned into trouble?
"Yes; I believe that he would be glad to see him dead."
"Well then, Constance, answer me another question. Would you like to see your husband get into trouble?"
"No," she said, with a startled air. "Dolly is a fool, and cruel, and I can scarcely endure him; all the same, I don't wish him any harm."
"That is all right," said Prelice, rising. "Then I can trust you to hold your tongue?"
"About what? Why are you so mysterious?"
"My poor girl, I would rather hold my peace than tell you what I am about to tell; but it is necessary that you should know. If I do not move in the matter someone less friendly to you and Rover may do so, and then only God knows what would happen."
"Dorry," Constance caught his hand, and passed her tongue over her dry lips slowly, "what do you mean? I have gone through so much that I'm quite able to face the worst."
"You won't scream?"
"No; I'm not a fool. Oh, what is it?" she blazed out, with a stamp, clenching her hands, and clenching her teeth also.
Prelice raised his hand. "I must tell you as I best can," he said in a peremptory tone, which quietened her. "After all, I may be mistaken. Is that dress you wore at your ball in your room?"
For answer Constance pressed the bell-button, and when the footman appeared, gave an order. "Tell my maid to bring me the frock and domino I wore at the ball—at the masked ball," she said; then faced Prelice when the man went out. "Are you about to accuse me?"
"No. Don't ask questions, Constance. I am sorry to keep you in suspense, but I can't help it. The whole thing is so extraordinary."
"What thing? What thing?"
But Prelice, perhaps mistakenly, would not tell her. The maid entered with the domino and dress, which Prelice at once recognised as the masked ball costume. He simply cast one glance at it, and then, "You can tell her to take it away again," he remarked.
Mrs. Rover did so wonderingly, and waited to hear what he had to say next.
"Take me to your husband's dressing-room in the other flat."
"What for?" she asked. "And how do you know that Dolly's dressing-room is in the other flat?"
"Never mind; take me there," said Prelice impatiently. He wished to get the things over as speedily as possible, as he saw how strung up she was; and yet until he was certain how could he accuse Rover? In his heart of hearts, Lord Prelice wished that he might be spared the disagreeable task of accusing Rover at all. But if he did not do so, it was not improbable that Jadby—to further his own ends—might intervene. And it was much better that Jadby, at all costs, should be kept out of the business, since he was not likely to spare either Constance or her husband. "Come, come," cried Prelice impatiently, and seeing that she did not move, "take me to your husband's dressing-room." And Constance led him thither like a woman in a dream.
They left one flat, and crossed the landing to the other. When in the dressing-room, which was luxuriously furnished, Mrs. Rover remained silent and observant at the door, while her friend examined the sanctum of her husband. So mysterious were his words and movements that she began to wish that she had not admitted him, since she did not desire to harm Dolly, objectionable as she found him. But if she could not trust Dorry in all ways, who could she trust?
Meanwhile Prelice peered into a wardrobe, and shook out the many suits it contained; he searched a large wooden press, wherein shirts and underlinen and handkerchiefs and collars were neatly laid out. But in each case he failed to find that for which he hunted, and drew a long breath of relief. Perhaps, after all, Madame Marie was wrong, in spite of the magical powers to which she laid claim. When at his wits' end, Prelice turned to Constance. "Isn't there a cupboard?" he asked.
"Over there," she said, pointing to the hither side of the fireplace. "You must be blind not to see it. Oh, it is unlocked," she added, noting that he hesitated. "Dolly has no secrets. There is nothing in it but old clothes and rubbish, which Trimmer"—this was Mr. Rover's valet—"stows there. Look into the cupboard by all means."
The young man made no reply to the sarcasm, but opened the cupboard of Bluebeard. It was deep and wide, with many pegs at the back and round the sides, upon which hung many clothes, out of date and slightly worn. On the floor was a heterogeneous pile of shabby slippers, discarded boots, sundry medicine bottles, tin boxes of polish, and many odds and ends, showing that this was a bag-o'-rags receptacle for sheer rubbish.
Prelice speedily pulled out all the clothes, and threw them on the floor, while Mrs. Rover shrugged and stared at his zeal. Suddenly he came upon a green silk domino, inside which was sewn the front of a white dress, streaked with thin lines of red velvet. The whole made one garment, easy to slip on and off, which, when worn, would look both like a dress and a domino. This very ingenious garb was hidden behind the discarded clothes, which apparently had not been disturbed for some considerable time, and only by removing all, as Prelice had done, could the domino and its clever fixings have been discovered.
"There," said the young man, holding it up for Mrs. Rover's inspection.
With staring eyes Mrs. Rover drew near, and handled the fabric. "An imitation of the frock and domino I wore at my ball," she gasped; then added after a pause: "A woman never wore this."
"Ned said that the person who waved the bronze cup under his nose to make him insensible was a woman," said Prelice significantly.
"Oh," gasped Constance, taking his meaning at once. "Dolly? It's a lie!"
"It's a lie," repeated Constance, seeing that Prelice did not say a word. "Dolly is a little cruel fool, who tyrannises to the full extent of his weak powers. But I don't believe that he killed Agstone."
"Well," drawled Prelice reflectively, "on the face of it, there appears to be no reason, and yet this sham frock is in this rubbish cupboard."
"Dolly can explain," breathed Mrs. Rover hopefully.
"Can he explain why he entered Ned's flat to——"
"He didn't, he didn't—it's impossible, I tell you."
"Constance," declared the other seriously, "you said yourself that Mr. Rover would be glad to see Ned dead, out of sheer jealousy. I quite believe that, and I believe also that he had not the pluck to kill him. But he did his best to get Ned into trouble——"
"By killing Agstone? What rubbish," cried Mrs. Rover feverishly. "If he killed the one he would have murdered the other, and would have chosen Ned in preference."
"Humph! Perhaps with a refinement of cruelty, Rover wished Ned to be hanged, and so slaughtered Agstone, in the hope that Ned would be accused. And accused Ned would have been," cried Prelice decisively, "but that I brought in your guests to see him helpless."
Mrs. Rover twisted her hands in her hair. "It's impossible, I tell you," she lamented, hoping against hope. "Dolly is a fool, he never would be a murderer. He hasn't the pluck. Heaven knows that I have no cause to love him, and that he stands in the way of my happiness. But I tell you, Dorry, that I would have cut off my right hand sooner than have brought you in here to spy out his shame."
"I am glad to hear you say that, Constance," returned Prelice quietly, "for it shows that you have honour if not love, and that, even to secure your happiness with Ned, you will not stoop to injure the man who is your husband. But think, my dear girl, is it not better that I should find this than Jadby?"
"Jadby—the man who loves Mona! What has he got to do with it?"
"Everything," said Prelice tersely; "he wishes to secure Mona as his wife, and will stop at nothing. You may wonder how I came to guess that your husband's dressing-room was in this flat, and how I came to know that this sham dress was hidden behind these clothes. I can explain very shortly. I consulted Madame Marie Eppingrave."
"That fortune-teller," gasped Constance, staring. "I have consulted her myself, and she told me a lot of rubbish. Surely you do not believe what she says in that shoddy room of hers?"
"I am bound to believe," said Prelice dryly, "seeing that the domino with the attached frock-front is here, as she stated. But she may not have told me so by means of occult power, in spite of her claim to exercise the same. In some earthly way—I know not how—she knew where this," he touched the domino, "was to be found. She will tell Captain Jadby, to whom she is much attached, and then he will come here to make what trouble he can. Therefore you can understand that it is better for Rover that I should be the discoverer."
"Yes; I see, I see," murmured Constance, and tottered towards a chair, to fall into it. "Oh, horrible, horrible! But there must be some explanation, Dorry. Think of one—think of one."
Women, as Prelice reflected at the moment, were most extraordinary. Here was a wife who avowedly hated a husband of the tricky effeminate sort, yet when chance placed a weapon against him in her hand, she refused to use it, despite the temptation of thus ridding herself for ever of a marital incubus. Rover had practically killed her father, he had cheated her into a match which she loathed, and he was doing his best to make her unhappy. In the face of it all, his deceived wife defended him. And this against the strong desire which she had for the man who truly loved her. Truly, women were strange. However, it was not Prelice's business to analyse Mrs. Rover's feelings. What he had to do was to learn the meaning of Rover's hiding the domino in his cupboard, and this he proceeded to do.
"Was Jadby at your ball?" he asked abruptly.
"I never asked him; I don't know him," she replied, clasping her hands tightly; "but you know that owing to the masks, many people—shady people too—were there. Captain Jadby might have come also."
"He did come," said Prelice quickly, "for he was one of the first to unmask when seeing Ned insensible, and to blame me. Certainly he may have come up the stairs opportunely, but since he wore a domino and mask, I am sure that he was at the ball."
"What colour was the domino?"
"Blue. Light blue," rejoined Prelice promptly.
"There were many blue dominos," murmured Constance. "I wonder why this man came to my ball?"
"Ah, that is what we have to find out. But another question." Prelice cleared his throat. "Presuming, as we must, that your husband wore this made-up thing, did he know what you would wear?"
"Yes," assented Mrs. Rover; then started up with a cry and a very pale face. "Oh, Dorry, Dorry, are you going to say that my dress was imitated by him, so that I might be accused?"
"It looks like it," said Prelice reluctantly. "What else could he say?"
"But I can't believe that Dolly would be so wicked," said the poor wife anxiously, "and yet the dress is the same. There is only a front, to be sure. But when worn, anyone would have mistaken him for me. A man always looks taller in women's clothes."
"These are hardly women's clothes."
"Sufficiently like them to deceive anyone. But you said that you spoke to someone wearing a dress like mine. It was not me, Dorry. I should have remembered. Was it Dolly?"
"I never spoke to you or to anyone dressed like you," said Prelice quickly; "I only told you that to get at the truth. But I never expected to hear you say that you had worn the dress. One thing I may tell you," he added, "that the green domino seemed to be ubiquitous. I saw him—presuming your husband is the person—talking and drinking and dancing all over the place."
"I was dancing also," said Constance, "and if Dolly wore a similar dress, it is natural that you should see the frock and domino often. Dolly received my guests unmasked, you know."
"I remember; but later he vanished, and then might have——" Prelice touched the domino significantly. "Still, there is one thing to be said," he added, "how did your husband enter Ned's flat?"
"Don't you remember?" she said, raising her head. "Agstone brought in the lady—Dolly, I suppose—when Ned was in that cataleptic state."
"I forgot that. But who admitted Agstone? What is the matter?"
He asked this because Constance rose suddenly to her feet with a cry of astonishment. "Mr. Haken was at the ball," she said, alarmed.
"I know. I saw him—that is, I recognised him by his chuckle. Well?"
Mrs. Rover sat down again. "You know that Mr. Haken is my godfather," she remarked; and when Prelice nodded, went on. "He was much distressed over my preference for Ned, seeing that I was married, and came to remonstrate with me on the night of the ball."
"Humph," said Prelice coolly, "I wondered why he was at the ball. A most unusual festivity for a dry-as-dust old man like Uncle Simon to be at."
"I gave him the key," said Constance in a low voice.
"The key! What key?"
"The key of Ned's flat."
"Constance, how did you become possessed of the key?"
With a bent head and a hurried low voice, she explained. "Dolly was very cruel to me at times. He even struck me, and I could not strike back at a little rat like that. I told Ned, who was furious, and wanted to frighten Dolly. I prevented him, so that there might be no scandal. Ned then gave me the key of his flat—he had an extra key—and told me if Dolly ever struck me again to come to him. I should not have thought of doing so, but to quieten Ned I consented to take the key."
"What an injudicious thing to do," breathed Prelice, alarmed; "if your husband knew, he might do a lot of damage. But how did Uncle Simon get the key out of you?"
"I told him about it the night of the ball. He got me into a quiet corner to remonstrate, so I explained everything. Mr. Haken was angry at Ned for having given me the key——"
"He was quite right," interposed Prelice. "Ned ought to have had more sense than to do such a mad thing. Go on."
"Mr. Haken insisted upon having the key, and then said that he would go down and see Ned."
Prelice turned suddenly pale. Was this what Horace had warned him against when he advised him to leave the case alone? "Did Uncle Simon go?" he asked in a stifled voice.
"I don't know. He certainly said that he would go down and give Ned back the key, and talk to him about his folly in letting me have it."
Prelice felt very uncomfortable, and his thoughts flew to his aunt with her merry ways. It would be terrible for Lady Sophia if Haken were involved in this dreadful case, and indeed if he were—as seemed apparent from Constance's story—Prelice wished that he had taken the doctor's advice, and had left it well alone. While he was puzzling over this new problem, and trying to find reasons against his uncle's complicity, he heard Constance cry out, and looked up, to see Rover standing in the doorway.
The little stockbroker, dressed to perfection, and overdressed at that, looked more dapper and neat than ever. His face was more colourless, his eyes more plaintive and blue, than they had been in the artificial light in which he had received his wife's guests. Such a mean-looking, bloodless man could scarcely get into a rage; yet a venomous look crept into his eyes as he surveyed his wife and her visitor.
"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, trying to assume the dignity of an injured husband, which sat very badly on him.
Before Constance could speak, Lord Prelice stepped forward with the domino over his arm, and spread it out. "This is the meaning of my being in your dressing-room, Mr. Rover," he said sharply and perfectly cool. "I found this behind some clothes in yonder cupboard."
"How dare you search into my private affairs?" cried Dolly, standing on tiptoe, and growing red.
"Is it not better that I should do so than the police, Mr. Rover?"
The little man looked genuinely puzzled. "The police? What do you mean by mentioning the police?"
"This dress, this domino, both are an imitation of the dress and domino which your wife wore at the ball. And the lady who was introduced by Agstone to make Shepworth insensible—if you remember the case—was arrayed in this way."
Instead of turning pale, Dolly became redder than ever, and turned like a snake on his wife. "You!" he said savagely, "you entered Shepworth's flat. You dared to——"
"I never was near the flat," said Constance, coming very close to him, and looking down contemptuously from her great height; "and if you dare to hint at such a thing I shall leave you for ever. I have put up with enough from you. Don't drive me too far."
"Mr. Rover has enough to do to defend himself without troubling you, Constance," said Prelice quietly.
Dolly started. "What do you mean?" he asked nervously.
"This sham dress was hidden in your cupboard."
"I never saw it before; I didn't know it was there." Dolly gasped, for he was beginning to scent danger.
"The presumed woman introduced by Agstone was dressed in this," went on Lord Prelice mercilessly. "You hated Shepworth, you wished to get him into trouble, and so——" Prelice stopped. "I leave you to draw your own inferences," he ended.
Dolly trembled, as well he might, for the visitor had drawn up a very good case against him. "I tell you I never saw the dress before," he quavered. "And how did you find it?"
"That is neither here nor there," said Prelice, wishing to shield Constance from the mean wrath of the little man. "Later on the police can explain."
"The police—the police!" Dolly grew as white as a sheet.
Constance laid her hand on his shoulder. "Don't be afraid, Dolly; I do not believe that you killed that man Agstone."
Dolly brushed her hand away, with the snarl of a terrified cat. "Keep yourself to yourself," he snapped, showing his teeth. "You hate me, so you need not defend me."
"I don't love you," answered Constance bitterly. "I have small cause to, considering the way in which you tricked me. All the same, I do not wish to see you get into trouble over a crime which I truly believe you had not pluck enough to commit."
"You are quite right," retorted her husband shamelessly. "I never did have pluck enough to kill a fly, much less a human being. I should have stabbed your lover long ago if I had."
"Shepworth is not Mrs. Rover's lover," said Prelice, quietly.
"He is. She is always howling after him," taunted the venomous little man; "but she sold herself to me, and——"
"And you did not pay the price," said Constance, scornful and still.
"No," Dolly chuckled. "I got the better of you there. But you are my wife now, and I'll make you pay. Shepworth can marry that criminal girl whenever he likes. I hope he will, so as to torment you."
Mrs. Rover's eyes flashed. "Ned shall never marry——" she began, when Prelice made a sign to her to keep the secret of the new engagement, and spoke himself, coldly and sternly.
"Miss Chent's character has been perfectly cleared by her acquittal, Mr. Rover, and if you dare to say a word against her I shall throw you out of the window."
"How brave you are in defending Shepworth's bride," said Dolly, wincing at the flash in Prelice's blue eyes.
"I am," replied the other, not contradicting the mistake under which he saw Dolly laboured; "but as yet you have not proved your innocence."
"There is no need to prove it." Rover's voice whimpered unsteadily. "It is ridiculous to accuse me."
"This dress was hidden in your cupboard," insisted Prelice.
"What of that? This room was used as a place for the coats and hats of the men who came to the ball. Any one of them might have hidden the domino and frock there. I did not. I received my guests unmasked, and afterwards put on a black silk domino."
"Ah!" Prelice took a step forward, "then it was you who appeared in Shepworth's dining-room, and who gave the alarm."
"Yes; it was me. I came down to see Shepworth, and to make it plain to him that he was not to make love any longer to my wife."
"He never did make love since our marriage," flashed out Constance with scorn. "Ned has been true to honour, as I have been."
Prelice raised a hand to stop a promising quarrel between the ill-matched couple.
"Only you, Rover, knew what kind of a dress your wife was to wear at the ball," he said judicially; "only you could have had a similar one made—so as to get her into trouble, I expect."
"Another person knew," cried Dolly, with a flash of triumph in his china-blue eyes. "Yes. I asked Haken to come to the ball to remonstrate with Constance about her love for Shepworth. He is godfather to Constance, as you know. I was aware that Constance would try to dodge Haken, as she didn't want to be scolded, so I described her dress to him that there might be no mistake. Haken was at the ball, Lord Prelice. Why don't you accuse him?"
The young man sneered, although he felt distinctly nervous at the many proofs accumulating against his uncle. "Haken had no reason to get Shepworth into trouble; you had."
"Nothing would have pleased me better; but I should have stopped short of putting my neck into a noose, and I did. I tell you again that I don't know how that domino-frock thing came to be in my cupboard; that I never entered Shepworth's flat, as I certainly could not do so, without a key; and that I was the man in the black silk domino who gave the alarm. And when I entered the flat then, you had left the door open."
All this explanation was perfectly natural, and Dolly gave it with such an air of truth that Prelice was reluctantly obliged to believe him. The young man threw the domino over his shoulder, and moved to the door. "I shall take this with me," he said curtly.
"And see the police?" asked Rover, with twinkling eyes.
"No. Not at present."
"Not at any time, if you value your uncle's liberty."
"What do you mean?" Prelice faced round sharply.
"I mean nothing, as I know nothing. But there is as much evidence against Haken as against me, and if you accuse me I shall accuse him. How will Lady Sophia like a scandal of that sort? Eh?"
Prelice turned away without vouchsafing a reply. "I shall see you again, Constance," he said coldly.
"You shall not see her until Shepworth marries Mona Chent," snapped the venomous little husband; "and I shall move heaven and earth to bring that about."
"You will need to," retorted Prelice, remembering his engagement and thinking how angry Dolly would be when he learned the truth. "And let me tell you, Rover, that if you ill-treat your wife I shall make it my business to thrash you."
Dolly drew back, and snarled, but seemed distinctly afraid. Prelice, with a nod to the unhappy wife, passed from the room, and out of the flat. He felt distinctly nervous about Simon Haken.
After all, Lord Prelice did not return to Hythe on that night, much as he desired to. In view of this new complication, which threatened the domestic peace of Lady Sophia Haken, her nephew decided to remain in London, and give all his energies towards solving the problem. He could not think that Haken had anything to do with the murder of Agstone. In the first place, he had no reason to kill the man; in the second, he did not possess any leaves of the Sacred Herb with which to make Shepworth unconscious. Certainly it was Agstone who had kindled the leaves in the bronze cup, but he must have obtained them from Mr. Haken—presuming he was the disguised lady—-since he could have obtained them in no other way. Sir Oliver had possessed a portion of the plant, but had used it in the library when he was murdered, so the old sailor could not have procured the leaves in that direction. Prelice began to wonder if Haken had got the leaves from Madame Marie Eppingrave to execute his purpose.
But then, so far as Prelice knew, his uncle was not acquainted with the Bond Street fortune-teller. And again, he was well acquainted with Dr. Horace, who admitted to possession of the leaves, and, more than this, had actually burnt the Sacred Herb in the New Bailey. Lord Prelice decided first to call upon his uncle in the city, and lay the facts discovered before him, and then to interview Dr. Horace. In these two several ways he might get at the truth. Also, somewhat later, he decided to again speak with Madame Marie, and if possible see her in the presence of Captain Jadby. When that buccaneer learned that Mona was engaged to another man, and that she had inherited the property, he might bow to fate and leave things alone. Finally, Prelice knew that he had a powerful ally in the fortune-teller. From what he had seen of her strong-willed character he guessed that she would stick at nothing to secure as her husband the man with whom she was infatuated.
Bearing all these circumstances in mind, Prelice sent a wire to Mona stating that business detained him in London, and also went to his club to write his first love letter. In this he carefully refrained from mentioning the case, and merely poured out his heart in a passionate dithyramb in honour of his goddess. Mona, for the moment, felt some disappointment when she noted the absence of information regarding Madame Marie, but later confessed that her lover was right. It would never have done for the first letter which had passed between them to be soiled by the sordid tragedy in which she had been implicated. All the same, much as she appreciated Prelice's slightly turgid prose, her heart hungered to learn of his doings relative to the case. She felt that she would not know a happy moment until the truth were made manifest. Then she could become Lady Prelice with a light heart.
The next day Prelice went into the city to see his uncle, and learned that Mr. Haken had gone to Paris for a few days. He was expected back on the morrow, as he already had been absent for some time, so all that his eager nephew could do was to possess his soul in patience. Prelice returned to his club rather disappointed, and there found a telegram waiting for him. It had been sent to his Hythe hotel, and had been repeated on to his club, since it was marked "Urgent." It proved to be from Horace, and asked Prelice to come up at once. "Be at my house at three in the afternoon. Important," said the wire.
"I wonder what this means?" Prelice asked himself uneasily, and fretted over the matter until the time came for him to go to Rutland Square.
There was no getting over the fact that the mystery of this case was telling on Prelice's strong nerves.
Nor was his uneasiness diminished when he found that Dr. Horace was not alone. With him were Captain Jadby and Madame Marie Eppingrave, both of whom appeared to be on very good terms with their host. As usual, the room was untidy with its litter of curiosities, but Prelice managed to find a seat with his back to the light. This he did so as to keep his face well in the shade, as he had a premonition that there was about to be a duel of words. Indeed, the first whispered remark of Horace hinted at a storm about to break.
"You silly ass," grumbled the doctor in his beard as he went forward to welcome his guest, "why couldn't you leave things alone as I told you to? Now all the fat is on the fire with a vengeance."
Prelice shrugged his shoulders with a carelessness which he was far from feeling, and saluted Madame Marie with a bow. Of Captain Jadby, who stood fidgeting by the window, he took no notice. The buccaneer noticed the omission, and resented it. "English manners, I suppose," sneered the half-caste pointedly.
Prelice sat down calmly, and took up the challenge. "Considering our last meeting, when you treacherously fired on my friend, you can hardly expect me to behave courteously."
"I wish I had killed him," flashed out Jadby viciously.
"I quite believe that; but you did not harm him in the least," retorted Prelice, lying bravely to defend Ned, and to annoy the captain.
"I wounded him in the arm," snarled Jadby. "Didn't I, Marie?"
"I certainly saw that Mr. Shepworth was slightly hurt," replied the fortune-teller; "in a trance, of course."
"Ah!" replied Prelice negligently, "your trances are not always reliable, Madame."
"I think you have found that one is, at least," she replied in her turn, and very significantly.
"What does Captain Jadby think?" asked Prelice genially. He felt sure that the woman had not dared to risk the buccaneer's rage by explaining what she had said.
"Madame Marie told me that she went into a trance on your account," said Jadby, taking a chair, sullenly, "but, of course, she did not remember what she said, and could not explain to me."
"Since Madame is certain that this especial trance is reliable," was Prelice's retort, "she must remember something."
"Oh, the deuce take your chatter," shouted Horace ruffling his shaggy red hair, in a high state of irritation. "I didn't ask you here to waste my time in drivel."
"In that case, as my time is also valuable, I had better go."
"No, no, confound you," said Horace crossly, and seeing that Prelice knew well how to treat his humours. "Madame here, and Jadby, wish to speak to you seriously."
"I fail to see upon what subject."
"Upon the subject of Miss Chent," cried the buccaneer savagely.
"I decline to discuss an absent lady," said Prelice coolly.
"You are engaged to her."
"Am I indeed?"
"But you sha'n't marry her."
"Won't I! See here!" Prelice rose, very tall and very straight and very cool-headed, "if you persist in going like this, Captain Jadby, I shall be compelled to twist your neck."
"English manners," sneered the half-caste again.
"Not at all. Colonial manners, South Sea manners if you will, and very necessary manners for dealing with a ruffian such as you are."
"I'll kill you for this," muttered Jadby, sinking back into his chair.
"With your little gun?" taunted Prelice pleasantly. "I hope you'll shoot straighter. I never saw so rotten a shot."
"I can do more than shoot."
"Yes—you can bark."
"And bite too. See here, I asked you here to tell you, in the presence of Horace, that if you don't stop meddling with things which do not concern you, I'll disgrace your uncle."
Prelice never winced. He had a kind of idea that something of this sort was forthcoming, and merely laughed aggravatingly. "Which uncle?" said he, calmly. "I have two or three."
"Mr. Simon Haken."
"Oh indeed." Prelice turned to Horace. "Are you on my side, or on the side of these blackmailers?" he demanded.
Madame Marie arose furiously. "I am not a blackmailer," she cried, and her deep-toned voice became shrill with anger. "I did not want to say anything, and if Felix does not swear to give up this girl, I shall refuse to speak out."
"No," snapped Jadby, with a fierce glance; at which, strange to say, the courageous woman looked cowed. "You shall speak as I direct."
"Are you on my side or on theirs?" Prelice asked Horace again.
"On yours, hang you," snarled the ugly little man. "And if I were not, you would find yourself in Queer Street, I can tell you."
Prelice took no notice of this outburst, but turned to the woman. "Are you against me?" he demanded.
"I am neutral," she retorted uneasily.
"I see; and Jadby there is an open enemy. Well, now that I understand the situation, perhaps you will let me know how Mr. Haken can be disgraced by you two, or you three."
"We can accuse him of murder," said Jadby, choking with anger at the exasperating coolness of the young aristocrat.
"Good. Go on."
"Of two murders?" spat out the half-caste.
"Better and better. Ha! I understand then that you, Captain Jadby, and you, Madame Marie, accuse Mr. Haken of killing Sir Oliver Lanwin and Steve Agstone?"
"Yes," snapped the captain; and "Yes," breathed the woman, very pale.
Prelice looked quietly at them. "Prove these charges," he said.
"One moment," said Dr. Horace, getting out his German pipe. "Remember, Prelice, that this business is none of my bringing about. I warned you against meddling in the case, and you would not take my warning. You have only yourself to thank for what is coming."
"I am perfectly ready to take the responsibility of my actions," was the stiff retort of the young man; and he turned to Jadby. "Go on!"
The captain, bursting with venom, was only too pleased to relieve himself in a torrent of words. "Before my father, Sir Oliver, died, he frequently talked to me about the estate—sought my counsel, in fact. I thus learned that Mr. Haken, although supposed to be a wealthy man, was in difficulties owing to disastrous speculation. He asked Sir Oliver to lend him fifty thousand pounds to tide over a crisis, and this my father refused to do. Naturally Mr. Haken was very angry——"
"Probably!" put in Prelice coolly; "but what you say does not prove that Mr. Haken killed Sir Oliver."
"Let me speak now," said Horace rapidly. "I was the sole possessor of the Sacred Herb, which, if you remember, Prelice, I brought from Easter Island. I gave some to Haken, who desired to get the same for Sir Oliver. You see," pursued the traveller, "Haken knew that Lanwin was much interested in occult studies, so thought to tempt him to lend the necessary fifty thousand pounds by getting him this rare herb, which, as you know, produces a trance."
"I see." Prelice nodded. "Then Mr. Haken confessed to you that he desired the loan of this money?"
"He did, saying that his affairs were in a bad way. With the gift of the Sacred Herb he hoped to soften Sir Oliver's heart, which was somewhat hard where money matters were concerned."
"I never knew that Mr. Haken was aware of Lanwin's inclination to the occult," said Prelice quietly.
"He was in a way," said Madame Marie suddenly, and taking up the story; "but, of course, I told him more, being very friendly with Sir Oliver, as you know. Mr. Haken was superstitious himself—as the saying goes—and frequently consulted me about stocks and shares."
"What?" Prelice looked incredulous. "Do you mean to tell me that a hard-headed man like Mr. Haken consulted you?"
"He did; and I was enabled to serve him by my powers. I understood, Lord Prelice, that you believed in the Occult World."
"I do," rejoined the young man dryly, "because I have had considerable experience and possess imagination. But Mr. Haken——"
"He believed also," interrupted the fortune-teller quickly, "and came to me for advice. It was I who recommended him to apply to his old friend, Sir Oliver, for the fifty thousand pounds. When Sir Oliver refused, I told Mr. Haken that he should get some of the Sacred Herb from Dr. Horace, and give it to Sir Oliver, in the hope that the gift would make Sir Oliver hand over the money."
"How did you know that Dr. Horace had the herb?" asked Prelice sharply.
"Madame Marie and I were acquainted in Samoa," put in the traveller, "and when we met in London I told her that I had succeeded in getting the famous trance herb of Easter Island. She asked me for some leaves to use in her business, and I declined."
"Why, when you gave the same to Sir Oliver?" inquired Prelice.
"Because I wished to keep the herb to myself," said Horace, his rugged face growing dark; "but when Haken asked me for it to get money out of Lanwin I gave it readily. I hated Lanwin. He thwarted me in Tahiti—it matters not how—and he treated my brother Steve like a dog. I knew that Haken would lose the fifty thousand, and wished Lanwin to see the last of the cash. I would have ruined Lanwin if I could."
"This is quite a new light on your character, Horace," said Prelice, with uplifted eyebrows. "However, I understand that for your own purposes, which you have so kindly set forth, you gave the herb to Lanwin."
"Not personally," retorted the doctor, scowling; "I gave it to Haken, and he passed it to Madame Marie."
"And it was I who presented the herb to Sir Oliver, after retaining some leaves for my own use," said the woman coolly. "It was on the night of the murder that Mr. Haken came down to see Sir Oliver."
"Can you swear to that?" demanded Prelice, watching her.
"I can," she assured him emphatically. "Mr. Haken knew that I was to give the herb to Sir Oliver on that night, and came down so as to strike the iron while it was hot, by explaining how he had procured the herb from Dr. Horace. Mr. Haken came in quietly by the window when I was conversing with Sir Oliver in the library. That was about nine o'clock. Agstone entered to close the windows—they were not shuttered, remember—and also saw Mr. Haken. At five minutes after nine—if you recollect the evidence I gave in Court—I went to bed, leaving Mr. Haken alone with Sir Oliver——" She paused.
"And then?" questioned Prelice.
"There is nothing more to say," she replied coldly. "Mr. Haken was in the library with a man from whom he desired to get money. It was, I believe, refused; and then Mr. Haken murdered Sir Oliver, afterwards burning the Sacred Herb, about the time Miss Chent entered the room. Needless to say, before she entered, Mr. Haken had gone."
"A very pretty story," said Prelice, quite unmoved. "That is one crime no doubt; but the other?"
"I can explain," said Jadby, enraged at the young man's coolness. "From Madame Marie I learned that Mr. Haken was going to Mrs. Rover's ball to see his goddaughter and Shepworth, and——"
"How did you know that?" asked Prelice, turning to the woman.
"Mrs. Rover consulted me occultly about her marriage, and confessed amongst other things that Mr. Haken was her godfather. I saw that Mrs. Rover was in that reckless state which might lead to a scandal, and I told everything to Mr. Haken. He resolved to go to the masked ball and remonstrate with Mrs. Rover, and afterwards with Mr. Shepworth. I told Captain Jadby."
"And I went there," said the captain quickly, "because I knew that Haken had killed Sir Oliver, and wished to see him, in order to get some money."
"To blackmail him, in fact," said Prelice coolly. "So you were the Continental individual whom my uncle was to meet."
"Yes. But he was too clever for me. He came in an ordinary domino, and afterwards changed to a green one with a dress similar to that of Mrs. Rover's."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because I was hunting for Mr. Haken, and heard him chuckle. For the moment I fancied that he was Mrs. Rover owing to the dress, but when he chuckled I guessed it was Mr. Haken. He eluded me, however, but not before I had smelt the perfume of the tuberose, which the Sacred Herb gives out. When you discovered the crime, Lord Prelice, I guessed that Mr. Haken, disguised as Mrs. Rover, so as to implicate her with Shepworth, should there be trouble, had gone down and murdered Agstone."
"How did Agstone come there? How did Mr. Haken know he would be there?"
Jadby leaned back coolly. "I cannot answer either of those questions," he said calmly; "perhaps Mr. Haken can."
There was a few moments of silence, which Prelice broke. "Well," he asked, rising, "and what are your terms for silence?"
"You must give up Miss Chent to me," said the captain, with a glance of gratification, for he fancied that Prelice was yielding. "I shall marry her, and then we shall live at the Grange."
"Ah, but you see it will not be your property," said Prelice politely.
Jadby sprang to his feet. "Not my property?"
"No. I fear that Dr. Horace has not informed you that Agstone brought the will, leaving everything to Miss Chent, to him, and that he has restored it to the lady. You are a pauper, Captain Jadby. Miss Chent has the money, and shortly she will have me as her husband."
Jadby took scarcely any notice of Prelice, important as was the matter he talked about. "Horace," he cried, glaring viciously, "you have played me false."
"I never intended to play you true," said Horace contemptuously.
"Then I shall ruin Haken," cried Jadby, at his wits' end with sheer rage.
"Do so," said Prelice, walking to the door. "I decline to be blackmailed. Good-day." And he walked out.
After him came Madame Marie before he could descend the stairs. She gripped him by the arm earnestly, and looked into his face. Prelice could hear the captain and Horace quarrelling desperately in the room he had left, but waited patiently until the woman spoke.
"Swear to me," panted Madame Marie, "that Jadby will never, never marry that girl, and I will help you."
"In what way?"
"For one thing, I shall stop Felix from denouncing your uncle."
"Pooh! That's bluff!"
"Indeed, indeed it isn't," said the woman passionately. "What I have told you is perfectly true. Your uncle will be in great danger if Felix speaks. But swear to save him from that girl, and I shall stop all trouble about Mr. Haken."
"I swear," said Prelice quietly; "especially as it is the dearest wish of my life to make Miss Chent my wife."
"Beware—oh, be careful!" implored Madame Marie, clinging to Prelice. "I know that Felix is desperate; he is dangerous."
"I am not afraid of him. He cannot hurt me."
"But he may hurt her," cried Madame Marie. "If anything goes wrong, come to me. I can help you."
"I shall do so; but why do you work against the man you love?"
"Because I can secure him in no other way. I want him to leave England to marry me. While he stops here, and is infatuated with Miss Chent, there is no hope. Hark! Felix is calling. Remember, we are outwardly enemies, but inwardly friends. You promise." On this she produced a small golden crucifix.
Considering the exigencies of the case, Prelice was willing to promise anything, even to a doubtfully good woman, such as Madame Marie appeared to be. But the production of the crucifix took him aback.
"I give you my word," he said, stiffly.
"I want your oath," she retorted. "Swear on this, to aid me to marry Felix, or I do nothing."
There was no help for it, and Prelice had to make allowance for Madame Marie's flamboyant, foreign way of exaggeration. "I swear to help you," he said, and kissed the crucifix.