CHAPTER XTHE FIRST OF THE FRUITThe darkness was gathering by the time that Rent came back and Kate Charlock had her property gathered together. She had not packed up many things—just the necessaries for an extravagant woman like herself. The rest could follow later. She trusted to her tact and discretion to make the future smooth. Rent would have been dismayed if he had known how clearly she could read his mind. She had no intention of compromising herself. She was merely going to make use of him. But he need not know that yet. He need not know how perfectly she was able to take care of herself. A deep plot lay at the back of her mind, a means by which she could bring her husband to his knees. This was no senseless, confiding creature putting her future in the hands of a man she had known only for a few months. That she had seen more of him than her husband was aware mattered nothing. She did not fail to note that Rent looked greatly annoyed."I have been detained," he explained. "A business matter. I may have to come back to-morrow. But I can take you in the car I have borrowed as far as Portsmouth. Then we can get on to Devonshire as soon as possible, where I want you to stay with my mother. I know she will be glad to help you. That will be the means of stopping all idle gossip.""How thoughtful you are," Kate Charlock murmured, as the chauffeur disappeared. "I have not burdened myself very much, because I thought that later—but I hardly dare to think of that. If you knew how frightened and terrified I am——"The speaker broke off and a little sob came from her throat. It was dark now, and Rent took her in his arms and soothed her with loving words. It was too dark to see the outline of the figure standing by a belt of shrubs facing the door. But on the still air every word and sound carried, so that John Charlock, from his hiding-place, missed nothing. He would have been hard put to say why he had returned. Perhaps his conscience had smitten him. Perhaps it had occurred to him that he was treating his wife with undue severity. But the fact remained that he was back there again, prepared with a new proposition.For the moment he had forgotten Arnold Rent. The man had never come into his mind again, though, at the time, he had meant to give Rent a sharp lesson on the prudence of minding his own business. He had come back through the shrubbery in time to witness a tender little scene in the porch. A wave of sudden anger passed over him. Then he grew calm and collected. After all, why should he interfere? Why should he come between this heartless woman and her platonic flirtation with this besotted fool—this business man gone mad?For, man of the world as he was, Charlock had not yet grasped the true inwardness of the situation. That his wife was an actress to her fingertips he had learnt by bitter experience. Doubtless Rent had arrived to keep the appointment and thus these two had come together. Charlock smiled bitterly to himself as his mind dwelt upon the dramatic story which his wife must have had to tell. He could imagine how the woman would play upon the feelings of the man as a master plays upon an instrument. And the setting to the play was worthy of the great actress herself. No doubt Rent had been so moved by the whispered wrongs of this outraged wife that he had placed all he possessed at her disposal. Doubtless he was removing her to the loving custody of some relation who would take care of her for the present. But how far things had gone Charlock did not know. If he had, he might have interfered—and again he might not. It all depended upon his sardonic mood for the moment. He stood there now, erect and motionless, and disposed to watch the thing to the end. Presently the great car jumped forward, and a few moments later the tail lights had vanished down the drive."Well, why not?" Charlock murmured. "Unless I am greatly mistaken, Arnold Rent is a long way from being a fool. A little more knowledge of the world, and he is likely to be a force to cope with. Let him find out for himself. Let him learn what I have had to put up with. It will be an education for him. Upon my word, though he little knows it, I am going to prove that young man's greatest benefactor."Meanwhile, the great car sped on through the darkness, with Kate Charlock and Rent behind and the driver in front. They were very quiet and subdued, for, after the first moments of his mid-summer madness, Rent could not be blind to the seriousness of the step he had taken. And the woman by his side, following his every mood and phase of thought, played up to him like a past mistress in the art of emotions. She laid her head tenderly on his shoulder and sighed, as she nestled up to him."You do not regret already?" she whispered."Regret?" Rent murmured passionately. "I will never do that. But one does not burn one's boats and mock all the shibboleths without realising the responsibilities that one is casting aside. I do hope that you understand that much, Kate."Under cover of the darkness, the woman yawned slightly. She was beginning to long now for the life and bustle of the hotel, and, besides, she had not dined as yet, and, like most people who have their feelings well in hand, she was possessed of a healthy appetite. She jumped down briskly from the car as it pulled up at the Royal Solent Hotel, and the hall porter, majestic in his uniform, threw back the heavy plate-glass doors. To Rent's annoyance, the lounge was thronged with people in evening dress. He had forgotten the presence of Royalty in Portsmouth. He had expected to have the hotel pretty much to Kate and himself. It was no far cry to Southampton, and there was the chance of being recognized by somebody who knew one or another of them. Still, sooner or later, the ordeal would have to be encountered and dealt with. The thought had hardly flashed through Rent's mind before a strikingly handsome woman in evening dress rose from the lounge and came towards Kate Charlock. Then, as she caught sight of the man by her side, she appeared to hesitate, and something like a scornful smile swept across her dark features, and she slowly went back to her seat. But, all the same, she continued to stare at Kate Charlock and her companion. Kate grasped Rent's arm."Lady Strathmore," she whispered. "I am certain that she recognised us. Did you see how she came down the hall and then turned back? I wish we hadn't come here."It was the first blow, and the woman staggered under it. She stood there, perplexed and uneasy. In a dim kind of way she comprehended the fact that Arnold Rent was ordering rooms for himself and Mrs. Charlock. It all came to her in a kind of dream. But she roused herself presently as Rent laid his hand upon her arm."This way," he said. "Come along."They passed up the whole length of the lounge, so near to Lady Strathmore that Kate Charlock could have touched her. For the life of her she could not restrain one glance in the direction of the woman in black, and just for a brief moment their eyes met. Lady Strathmore's face was rigid as a mask, and her features had just a tinge of scornful amusement upon them. But there was not the slightest trace of recognition. Then, as the couple passed by, Lady Strathmore turned and whispered something to her companion, and both broke into a rippling laugh. With a feeling of thankfulness, Kate Charlock opened the sitting-room door."That is done," Arnold Rent said. He placed his hands on the woman's shoulders and looked down into her eyes. "Never mind, Kate. Always be kind to me, because, for your sake, I have given up my life's ambition to-night."In a kind of fever, Rent went down the stairs in the direction of the lounge. He was furiously angry now and inclined to be quarrelsome. He would have liked to have it out with the woman who had slighted Kate Charlock. A month ago he would have laughed at his own folly and been scornfully amused at the idea that he should so far forget himself, though he had long had a passionate admiration for Kate. Even now, he was not quite clear what he was going to do. Up to the present he was inclined to play the honourable part. Even now he had only the woman's true interests at heart. Strange that he should have been so foolish. Strange that he should have imagined that his mother would take the same view of the matter as himself. But, then, she had always spoilt him in the past, and, though she was a rigid Puritan, doubtless she would continue to do so in the future.Rent was shaken out of these thoughts by a hotel servant who approached him with a telegram. The man held out the envelope."You are Mr. Rent, sir?" he said. "Pardon me, but I think this must be for you. It is so strange a name."Rent looked at the envelope in wonderment. No doubt the message was for him, though he was at a loss to know how any friend could have found him out. He opened the message and read:"Danger here. Come back at once.""How did they find me?" he murmured. "How did they get on my track? It was thoughtful, at any rate. Still, danger or no danger, I cannot go back."CHAPTER XITHE DOCTRINE OF PLATOAcross the breakfast-table Kate Charlock was smiling sweetly, but it was doubtful whether she heard a single word that Rent was saying. She was busy with her own thoughts, which were none of the sweetest. In the first instance she thought that she had counted the cost of her action, but on second thoughts she was not so sure. Still, she was satisfied she could not have complied with John Charlock's order, for it was nothing else. She would have to make the best of it now. She was eager to get away from England until the scandal had blown over. Kate Charlock was by no means devoid of vanity, and Lady Strathmore's studied insolence of the evening before had cut her to the quick. There was the danger of a repetition of this kind of thing so long as she and Rent remained at the Royal Solent Hotel.But she was not blind to the material side of things. It had been the height of folly to go further without having first made overtures to Arnold's mother. If she should display anything like hostility, then, indeed, Kate might be said to have stepped out of the frying-pan into the fire."Oh, you needn't feel worried about that," Rent said, looking up from his paper. "No one ever yet was afraid of my mother. She is gentle and kind-hearted, but if she takes up the cudgels on anybody's behalf she can be amazingly firm. I don't think you need have any anxiety as to my mother."The shadow of a contemptuous smile flickered across Kate Charlock's face. From her point of view, Rent's description of his mother was not reassuring. It was an outbreak of firmness of this kind that Kate Charlock had most reason to dread. It never occurred to Rent that his mother's firmness might take a wrong direction. Despite his handsome face and intellectual strength, it seemed to Kate that in many respects he was little better than a boy compared with her. The saint-like woman by his side could have acted as school-mistress to him. In her mind's eye she already pictured Mrs. Rent, heart-broken and humiliated at the prospect of the ruin of her son's prospects, and never yet was there mother who regarded her son's wife as in any way worthy of him. While Rent was babbling praises of his mother, Kate sat pondering the magnitude of the task which lay before her. So far she had hesitated to discuss the plan of campaign, but it would have to be done now. The proper thing was to strike while the iron was hot, to go straight to Devonshire and confront Mrs. Rent with the cataclysm before she had time to hear of it from good-natured friends outside."Of course, your mother will have to know," she said sweetly and thoughtfully. "I am looking forward to seeing her, and yet I dread the thought of meeting her. You will have to be prepared for a disappointment, Arnold. Your mother is certain to be shocked. She would be less than human if she does not lay all the blame upon my shoulders.""Never," Rent cried. "I will make it quite clear that the blame is entirely mine. I wrote a long letter to my mother before breakfast, fully explaining everything——""You have not posted it, I hope. No? Well, I am glad of that, because I would prefer that letter not to go. There is only one thing for it—we must travel to Devonshire at once and your mother must receive the first intimation of what has happened from your own lips. Of course, I shall come with you. I am looking forward to the interview with the greatest possible dread, but my duty is clear. Besides, we must get away from here. Can't we go this very afternoon?"Rent reproached himself for his thoughtless selfishness. He was prepared to do anything that his companion desired. But nothing could be settled before lunch. Most of the people had finished their luncheon, so that the two had the room to themselves. From the long balcony outside came the sound of voices, and Kate Charlock flushed uncomfortably as she recognised Lady Strathmore's tones. She had an uneasy feeling that she was the subject of discussion. A moment or two later Lady Strathmore herself came into the dining-room. She flashed a brilliant smile in Rent's direction, but she seemed to be unaware that he was not alone. A sudden anger possessed Kate Charlock. With audacious passion she came forward and held out her hand."You seem to have forgotten me," she said sweetly."Absolutely," the other woman murmured. "I am afraid you have a distinct advantage over me, though when I come to look at you again I see you bear a strong likeness to Mrs. John Charlock. But, of course, a dear saint like that would never so far compromise herself as to be lunching here with any man but her husband. Mr. Rent, can I have a few moments' conversation with you?"The stroke was so swift and merciless, so utterly unexpected, that Kate Charlock had no reply. Overwhelmed and uncomfortable, with the tears smarting in her eyes, she sank into a chair, without the slightest attempt to detain Rent. His face was crimson, too. The corners of his sensitive mouth trembled, but he followed Lady Strathmore politely to the balcony."I am going to be candid with you," she said. "Oh, I quite understand how things are. I am a woman of the world and can judge for myself. It is a pity you are not a man of the world, also, or this would never have happened. Can't you see for yourself that you ought not to stay here? Surely you recognised me last night. I am speaking for your own good, because you are a young man whose education in some respects has been sadly neglected. Take my advice——""You are mistaken," Rent exclaimed. "And as regards Mrs. Charlock, she is as good and pure as any woman——""Oh, I have heard all that before," Lady Strathmore said, with a pitying smile. "You see, I happen to belong to the same set as Mrs. Bromley-Martin, and we are not so shallow-minded and frivolous as you appear to imagine. One side of a story always holds good till the other is told. Don't you think John Charlock has a side to the story as well?"Rent muttered something incoherent. Recalling to mind now his strange interview with John Charlock, he could not see that the latter had a single claim to consideration. It was useless to discuss that matter with this hard, worldly woman."I see that I am wasting your time," Lady Strathmore went on. "Still, I might as well tell you that Mrs. Bromley-Martin and some of her friends are coming to have tea with me this afternoon at four o'clock, and if in the meanwhile you discover that you have important business elsewhere, why—well, good-bye. Wonderfully fresh and bracing atmosphere this morning, don't you think?"The shrewd woman of the world smiled and went her way. Arnold Rent's thoughts were not pleasing as he returned to the dining-room. Already he was beginning dimly to comprehend the far-reaching effects of his impulsive action, but his heart smote him as he noted the pathetic droop of Kate Charlock's shoulders as she sat toying with her lunch. Lady Strathmore was right. It was necessary to go away at once. It might be possible to reach Devonshire before night, and, on the whole, it would be better to say nothing to Kate about the impending visit of Mrs. Bromley-Martin and her frivolous friends."What did she want?" Kate asked wearily."Really, I can hardly tell you," Rent stammered. "I don't think she meant to be unkind, though she is a bit hard. The gist of our conversation was that I should get away at once."Kate Charlock smiled in her sweet, melancholy way, though her heart was hot within her and passionate words trembled on her lips."We must try to forgive her," she said gently, "though she was very cruel to me. But she is right about leaving, and the sooner we set out for Devonshire the better. If you will pay the bill, I will go up—what is the matter?""Upon my word, I am very sorry," Rent stammered, "but I have only a few shillings in my pocket. In the excitement of yesterday I forgot all about money. Of course, I could telegraph to my solicitors, but even then I could not hear till the morning. Still, I know one or two people here, and I will go out at once and see if I can borrow a few pounds. I sha'n't be long."She sat there till a waiter came into the room with an envelope in his hand. With some agitation she noticed that the handwriting was that of Rent. She waved the waiter from the room and, in a frenzy of eagerness, tore open the envelope. There were only a few words hurriedly scrawled on the back of a visiting card."There is no help for it," the missive ran, "but I must go back to Cowes at once. The business is urgent and admits of no delay. Stay where you are until I return. At the very most I cannot be longer than two hours."There was passion as well as hate in Kate Charlock's eyes as she tore the card into fragments."What does this mean?" she asked. "Can he intend to leave me here? But, no, I cannot possibly believe anything of the kind. And yet, how very awkward!"CHAPTER XIIA CRIME OR NOT?It was the day following the dramatic disappearance of Kate Charlock, and once more Tanza and his companion were on board the yacht. The Italian had been away most of the morning, and had only arrived in time for lunch. He appeared to be on excellent terms with himself. There was a merry twinkle in his eye as he contentedly sucked his cigarette."You are not going to tell me anything, then?" he asked."My dear sir, there isn't anything to tell you," Malcolm Grey replied. "I won't say that I haven't made a discovery or two, because that wouldn't be true. At the same time, I stick to my original idea of keeping what I know to myself. We will both go our own way and see what we can make of it. But I am more or less convinced that your original suggestion is correct, and that there was foul play in the matter of the French maid."Tanza's eyes sparkled brightly."I have never had the slightest doubt of it," he said. "I have an instinct for that kind of thing. I knew that we had to deal with a scoundrel above the common. The whole thing is most fascinating. I suppose you have heard the latest development?""Indeed, I haven't," Grey said. "Tell me.""Mrs. Charlock has left her husband. There are a good many versions as to the cause of the quarrel. But, at any rate, she has gone, apparently leaving no trace behind her. I dare say there are faults on both sides; he is a hard man, and she is an extravagant, thoughtless woman. One never knows what a man of the artistic temperament is going to do. It seems that Charlock has disposed of his household goods and has made up his mind to spend the next year or two in a cottage.""Posing, I presume," Grey said cynically."No, I don't think so," Tanza went on. "He is too great a genius to indulge in childish follies. He can afford to leave that kind of thing to the log-rollers. I understand that he has outrun the constable, and that he has every desire to get on terms with the world again. Anyway, his wife wouldn't go with him, and I believe they have separated. As the man is a friend of yours, I thought you might have heard about this."But Grey shook his head. The information was news to him. He was a little annoyed, too, because there were certain facts which he expected to gather from Charlock. He sat there debating the matter for a short time in his mind, then announced his intention of seeking out Charlock. It was possible the artist had not left the neighbourhood yet, and there was no time to be lost. Tanza raised no objection. He hinted that he had work to do himself and that he could dispense with Grey's company for the rest of the afternoon.A little time afterwards Grey walked up the drive of Charlock's house. There was nothing in the condition of the grounds to indicate that the place was empty. The lawns had been freshly cut, the flower-beds were trim and neat as usual. It was only the blank, staring windows and the litter of straw on the front door which told the story. As Grey stood there the door opened, and Charlock himself came out. There was a grim, significant smile on his face."You are astonished to see this?" he asked."Not in the least," Grey said. "I should not be astonished at anything you did. But, if it isn't an impertinent question, why are you acting in this fashion? It seems almost a sacrilege to strip a beautiful place like this. And if you must leave it, why not have let it furnished?"A cynical laugh broke from Charlock's lips."It takes time to let a furnished house," he said, "even a little paradise like this. And the lesson loses nothing of its force because it is administered promptly and speedily. When I bark, I bite. And I don't want to give warning. Ah, you don't know what it is to be mated to an extravagant wife who has no consideration for any one but herself. I should be, at the present moment, a rich man. I have no vices. My personal expenditure is nothing. But I do love to be surrounded by things that are good and beautiful. That is why I spent so much in furnishing this house. I thought I was one of the happiest of men. I thought I was going to lead an ideal existence. But I found I was tied to a woman whose one idea was fashion, who thought nothing of playing at gardening in a Paris frock that cost fifty or sixty pounds. And one day I awoke to the fact that I was on the verge of bankruptcy. Great Scott! how those bills came rolling in! There was only one thing to be done—to act at once. There are no half measures with me. I cut everything adrift. I have taken a labourer's cottage. I told my wife she would have to live there with me and do everything till every farthing was paid. And now she has gone."Charlock spoke harshly and bitterly. It was rarely, indeed, that he mentioned his own feelings. But the wound was too recent. And there was something in Grey's manner that invited confidence."Your wife will think better of it," the latter murmured."Will she? Yes, perhaps, when the leopard changes his spots and the Ethiopian his skin, but not till then. Oh, everybody will side with her, of course. Everybody knows that I am hard and harsh and difficult to live with. She will pose as an injured woman, and the blame will be mine; indeed, she has begun to do so already. What do you think of her making a convert of Arnold Rent? Fancy that cynical man of the world, who would stick at nothing to gratify his ambition, forfeiting his future for the sake of my injured wife! That is the idea. He has become her champion. I presume he is going to look after her welfare till I am forced to make her a proper allowance. Probably you will hear of the thing again in the law courts—the well-known artist and his outraged wife, and all that kind of thing. Well, let them take what steps they like; I sha'n't trouble to defend it. And yet behind it all there is a comedy so amusing that I feel inclined to laugh in spite of myself. What do you think of my wife's going down to Devonshire to seek an asylum under the roof of Rent's mother? And what do you think of me as an honoured guest in the same house? I am not joking. The thing is in my own hands; indeed, it is more or less imperative, especially as I am not very busy, and an early commission is essential. There is a situation in a play for you! Think what Pinero would make out of it! But why should I bore you with these sordid details? They cannot interest you."Before Grey could make a suitable reply Charlock held out his hand and bade his companion a blunt good-day. He turned back to the house and banged the door behind him, as if ashamed at this display of feeling. It was not often that the strong man cried aloud so that the world might know of his hurt. He was furious with himself that he had done so now. And it seemed to Grey that it would be in bad taste to attempt to follow his friend and clear up the points which had been the object of his journey.He walked out of the gates and down the road to the outskirts of the town to the newly erected buildings where, until the past day or two, Arnold Rent had been conducting a series of experiments in wireless telegraphy. The office was close to the shore. One or two workmen were engaged with some apparatus the like of which Grey had not seen before. It was only natural that he should be interested in what was going on, that he should linger for a moment or two, until the office door opened and a clerk emerged. With some directness of manner, but civilly enough, he asked Grey's business. The scientist turned to face the man, abnormally thin and tall—a man with a face like faded yellow parchment, lighted by a pair of sombre, smouldering eyes."You seem to have forgotten me, Swift," Grey said. "Have I altered so much during the last two years?"The tall man gasped. His features twitched convulsively for a moment. Then the colour of his face changed. A sullen red tinged the parchment hue, leaving it still more pallid a minute afterwards."Mr. Grey," he stammered. "What do you want here?"There was something embarrassed, almost guilty, in the speaker's manner. Grey smiled as he replied."I am interested in all these kinds of things," he said. "But don't think I come here to learn your secrets. As a matter of fact, I called to see Mr. Rent.""He is away," the tall man explained. "But now a piece of business has turned up and I am telegraphing him in the course of the day. Is there anything I can tell him?""I don't think so," Grey said thoughtfully. "Anyway, there is no hurry. And how are you doing? Have you got over the old weakness? For, if so, you are likely to realise the old ambitions, after all. Don't think me impertinent.""I don't," Swift said indifferently. "I am only human, and I begin to realise that I shall never be able to cope with that accursed thing. Still, I am better than I was, and I am fairly happy here doing congenial work. You see——"What Swift was going to say was cut short by the appearance of a third party. He was a slight, dapper man, with prominent features and sleek, glossy hair. His manner was heavily dashed with audacity. He was ludicrously overdressed, and he carried the fact that he was an unregenerate scamp written in every line of his face."You are wasting your time," Swift said coldly. "Mr. Rent desires me to say that he does not know you and has no desire to see you. I hope I make myself plain.""Oh, very well," the stranger said. "In that case, I will wait till Mr. Rent comes back and see him personally. I shall find a way to refresh his memory, and don't you forget it. I don't allow anybody to play the fool with Ephraim Bark."CHAPTER XIIIMODERN FRIENDSHIPAs Kate Charlock sat debating her position with anxiety, the door opened cautiously and a gaily dressed figure slipped into the room. The place seemed to be half-filled with billowing draperies and the air was heavy with subtle perfume. Kate Charlock turned in amazement upon the intruder."Jessica!" she gasped. "What are you doing here?""You may well ask that," Mrs. Bromley-Martin tittered. "But a little bird told me what was going on, and when I had a wire from Lady Strathmore this morning asking me to bring a mob over to tea this afternoon, I jumped at the opportunity. My word, what a time we have had all morning pulling your character to pieces! And just now, when Belle Langley bet me a dozen pairs of gloves I dare not come up and interview you, I closed like a shot. Well, what have you to say for yourself?"From head to foot Kate Charlock quivered with indignation. She was not blind to her own folly, but, then, she had so hedged herself in with self-pity that she did not regard herself as the average woman who has fallen away from grace. Her case was quite different. But she merely smiled as she replied."I have nothing to say for myself," she responded. "I am content to leave my character in the hands of those who, like yourself, are acquainted with my unhappy domestic life. My husband chose to turn me out of house and home, and the punishment should be his more than mine. I know that socially my life is finished.""Terribly sad," Mrs. Bromley-Martin laughed gaily. "I am not going to blame you. You are no worse than two-thirds of us, as you know very well. Besides, we ought to be grateful to you for giving us something fresh to talk about. Still, we shall miss our tall, white saint who was the connecting link between ourselves and absolute respectability. But I must not stay longer. One has to be careful, you know.""Yes, with a reputation like yours, one has to be," Mrs. Charlock said sweetly. "You may tell your friends that they need not trouble to waste their sympathy upon me. I am quite happy."Kate Charlock's looks belied her words as Mrs. Bromley-Martin flitted from the room like some great gauze butterfly. She had little enough to be happy about, she told herself; from the bottom of her heart she resented the patronage of her late visitor. At length she was roused from her reverie by the entrance of a servant with a telegram on a tray. It was addressed to Rent, but Kate opened it and glanced carelessly at the contents. Her face did not move a muscle as she turned to the waiter and told him that there was no reply.Yet the few words were calculated to disturb. They were charged with meaning and called for immediate action. It was clear that the telegram came from Arnold Rent's mother."Have just received your letter," the message ran. "Am terribly surprised and shocked. On no account come here, as I am travelling to see you and will call to-morrow afternoon."HELEN RENT."Kate crushed the flimsy paper into a ball and tossed it contemptuously into the fireplace. A moment later and she was reading the words again thoughtfully. Doubtless some enemy had done this thing, and the words brought the reader no sort of comfort. Kate Charlock recognised courage and stern determination of purpose on the part of the sender of the message. Her ready wit saw that it was necessary to strike a counter-blow without delay. It was evident that Mrs. Rent would adopt a firm attitude and could carry out her part far better in the Royal Solent Hotel than under her own roof. She must start for Devonshire instantly as the only possible way of saving the situation.Would Arnold Rent really return? It was getting on towards five o'clock and he had been gone for two hours. With a sigh of mingled impatience and surprise, she heard him coming along the corridor. He looked uncomfortable."Upon my word, I am very sorry," he said, "but, as luck would have it, I have not been able to find a single friend. We must wait till I get money from my solicitors to-morrow morning. The delay is maddening!""Meanwhile, what are we to do about this?" Kate asked, as she held out the telegram. "This is from your mother.""Perhaps it is a good thing," Rent said. "It will save us a journey, at any rate. You must not be annoyed with my mother. It is only natural that she should feel like that, till the case is explained to her. When she has seen us and heard everything shemustbe on our side. We can have dinner here and spend the evening together."For a moment a gleam of anger came into Kate Charlock's eyes. She felt a wild desire to lay her hand upon Rent, to box his ears, to do anything as an outlet for her rage at his crass stupidity. She schooled herself, though as she stood there her finger nails were cutting into the white flesh of her palms."You don't understand," she said. "Your mother may forgive you, but she will never forgive me. If we meet here, there will be an end of everything. But under her own roof she will be bound by the dictates of hospitality to listen to what we have to say. I have been looking out the trains, and if we start within an hour we ought to reach our destination this evening.""It shall be as you please," Rent said tenderly. "I will go with you now, if you choose. There is one little thing you have forgotten—I have no money, and the railway people won't give credit——""Oh, please don't raise these obstacles," Kate Charlock cried wearily. "I suppose you carry a watch?""Oh, no, my dear, I never carry one. And if I did, what use would it be to us just now?"In spite of herself a laugh broke from Kate Charlock's lips. Would this man never improve? She crossed the room to her dressing-case and took out a diamond bangle."There!" she said. "You are going to have a new experience. I daresay you will have no difficulty in raising twenty pounds on that. You understand what I mean? I have nothing else to spare."Arnold Rent inclined his head shamefully."Oh, I am speaking of a pawnbroker. There is no need to flush and look uncomfortable, because the thing has to be done, whether you like it or not. And, besides, there is no disgrace in the transaction. The pawnbroker keeps open his shop to do business and is as anxious for your patronage as the butcher or the grocer. Ask the first policeman you meet where you can find a respectable shop, and the rest will be easy.""My dear girl," Rent said, with a hardening of his lips, "I couldn't do it. We must wait."Kate Charlock shot one glance at him. Then she laid her head upon the table and burst into a flood of tears. The strategy was successful, for Rent jumped in agitation to his feet and slipped the bangle into his pocket."For Heaven's sake, don't cry," he said. "For your sake I will do anything. I had quite forgotten——"His voice trailed away in an incoherent manner. He grabbed at his hat and left the room. The woman's eyes dried like magic. A smile trembled on her lips. But the anxious feeling did not leave her. Her heart would not lighten till the express train pulled out from the station on its long journey to the West. The fight was coming and Kate Charlock did not mean to fail.Despite the extent of his infatuation, the pill was none the less a bitter one for Rent to swallow. He was back again at the hotel presently, with the sovereigns jingling as he came in."I am glad that is all right," she said. "And now tell me why you behaved so badly just now? Surely you could not have had business of so great importance as to take you away from me in a crisis like this! It is not as if you were engaged in trade. Now tell me what it was. You can trust me."An ingenious prevarication trembled upon Rent's lips, when the waiter entered the room with a further telegram. Rent glanced at it more or less carelessly, but, though he was conscious his colour changed, he managed to drop the telegram coolly in the fire."The business was not my own," he said, "therefore I cannot tell it you. But I am afraid you will have to be patient. That telegram came from the same quarter and admits of no delay. You won't mind very much if I go back to Cowes now and return in the morning?"Kate Charlock swallowed her passion. She saw that the time had come to act and struck accordingly."Very well," she said. "In that case I will go back to my husband. It is not yet too late and I am not ashamed to meet him. It must be one thing or the other."Rent stifled what sounded like a groan."As you like," he said. "I shall not be the first fool beguiled by a woman!"CHAPTER XIVBARK IS CONFIDENTIALMalcolm Grey stood somewhat uncomfortably outside the little office on the seashore, hardly knowing what to do. In some vague way the features of the person who called himself Ephraim Bark were familiar, though he could not place the man. He would have stayed a little longer, only he seemed to be in the way; it looked, too, as if he were listening to a private conversation. He knew Arnold Rent by reputation and personally. He was aware that the latter had the character of a man about town, not too scrupulous where his passions and fancies were concerned. One or two strange tales had come to Grey's ears, though, at the time, he had paid small heed to them. And here was a man, whom no gentleman would touch without gloves, actually speaking as if he held some power over Rent. No man who did not feel positive of his ground would have spoken in that bullying way, especially as the fellow gave every indication of being a coward if he came to be tackled.At any other time Grey would have dismissed the incident with a shrug of the shoulders, but he had his own reasons now for learning all he could concerning the past history of Arnold Rent. Therefore he lingered to see what was likely to be the upshot of the interview.He saw Swift's hands clenched with passion. He saw the desire to strike down the intruder gleaming in his eyes. Then Swift restrained himself, as if suddenly remembering that this was an occasion when diplomacy was wiser than strength."It is useless for you to hang about here," Swift said. "Mr. Rent is not in the neighbourhood, and I don't suppose he will be back before morning. You can come and see him if you like, but I should not advise you to do so.""That's all very well," the aggrieved Bark burst out. "But what am I to do in the meantime? And why should he have everything while I've got nothing? By the time I have had my dinner I sha'n't have a cent to pay my lodgings. Just hand over a sovereign or two to go on with. Do you hear?""I hear," Swift said coldly. "I regret that I have no money to spare. And I don't think I should let you have it if I had. Come, clear out, or I'll have to put you off the premises."For the moment it looked as if the truculent Bark would show fight, but he contented himself with vague threats and innuendoes as he turned on his heel and sauntered away. Grey no longer doubted that the man had a powerful hold on Arnold Rent. He waited a few moments, discussing general matters with Swift; then he, too, strode into the road and followed Bark. There was no occasion to introduce himself to this individual, for, without a moment's hesitation, Bark raised his curly brimmed hat with what he believed to be refined and courtly politeness. Grey pulled up at once."You'll excuse me, Mr. Grey," Bark said effusively, "but I hope you won't mind doing me a little favour?""You know my name, then?" Grey said. "I ought to recognise you, but my memory plays me false."A look of deep cunning came into Bark's eyes."You can't know me, sir," he said, "considering that most of my life has been passed in Paris. But I know you by sight and reputation, because I am by way of being a bit of a scientist myself. I came down to see Mr. Rent, and this is how they treat me! And to think of what I've done for that man, to think of what I know about him! Why, I have only to raise my little finger and say the word, and before a day passed our friend——"A judicious fit of coughing put an end to further revelations on the part of Bark. He seemed to realise that he was going too far and instantly changed his tone. But this did not deceive Grey."Ah!" said Bark, "I am talking too fast, as usual. You might think by my tone that I was threatening Mr. Rent. As a matter of fact, I am only disappointed at his carelessness. But it is very awkward for me. Here am I with only a few shillings in my pocket, which would have been fifty pounds if I had seen Mr. Rent. Now, will you be offended if I ask you for the loan of a fiver for two or three days?"Grey hesitated for a moment. Would the expenditure be justified? Then, by inspiration, it occurred to him that perhaps Tanza might know this plausible scamp. Certainly it might be worth while to temporise."I am sorry," he said, "but I have very little money in my pocket. I can let you have ten shillings, if you like."Bark audibly expressed his disappointment."Well, perhaps I can do better than that," Grey, said, with a smile. "Let me give you the ten shillings to go on with, and if you will be on the landing-stage to-night at nine o'clock I will meet you and give you the balance of the five pounds. I suppose that will be convenient?"Bark's eyes gleamed with a greedy light."Spoken like a man and a brother," he cried. "Now, there's a pal for you! There's a friend in need when a poor chap is down on his luck through no fault of his own! Mr. Grey, you're a gentleman. And it is evident you know another gentleman when you see him.""I hope so," Grey said drily."That being so," said Bark, ignoring the sarcasm, "I will be on the landing-stage at nine o'clock. Thank you very much. In my hard-up state even the half-sovereign is acceptable. You will excuse me if I leave you, as I have an appointment to keep, a business matter involving thousands."So saying, Bark, with another flourish of his hat, swaggered off down the street. Grey smiled to himself as he saw the flashy little adventurer turn into a public-house. Then, in a thoughtful frame of mind, he went back to the yacht in search of Tanza, whom he found sprawling in a deck chair, deeply engrossed in his eternal cigarettes and reading a French novel."What news?" the Italian asked gaily. "I see you have had an interesting morning by the expression of your face. At any rate, your conversation will be more engrossing than this book. Now unbosom yourself.""There isn't much to tell you at present," said Grey. "I have been following up my investigations and have ascertained one or two important pieces of information. I rather wanted to see Rent, but he is away. I went down to his place, where I found an old friend of ours in the person of John Swift.""Oh, indeed!" Tanza exclaimed, lifting his eyebrows. "Now that is a man who was made to adorn anything he touched. If he could only keep away from the infernal drink he might now have been one of our leading scientists. What is he doing in these parts?""Acting as assistant to Rent," Grey explained. "But that isn't what I wanted to talk to you about. I don't mind telling you I have got hold of a most important clue, and as all roads are said to lead to Rome, so everybody I am meeting at present seems to be more or less mixed up with the matter I have in hand. While I was talking to Swift a man turned up and demanded to see Arnold Rent. He was very disappointed to find that Rent wasn't at home and was at no pains to disguise his feelings. His manner had a suggestion of blackmail about it. Also he seemed to be pretty sure of his ground. I don't suppose I should have given the fellow another thought had I not felt sure I had seen him somewhere. And I thought perhaps that you, with your amazing acquaintance with all sorts and conditions of scoundrels, might know something about him.""Have you managed to learn his name?" Tanza asked."Well, yes, I did, if he doesn't happen to be passing under somealias. He is called Ephraim Bark. Rather a curious sort of name, isn't it?""I know him quite well," he said. "That is his name. At any rate, I never heard him called anything else. He is a most plausible and ingenious rascal, and I should very much like to meet him again. I suppose you have his address; if so, we will seek him out and entertain him after dinner."Grey explained exactly what course he had adopted, and Tanza was pleased to signify his approval. So it came about that shortly after nine o'clock the two proceeded to the landing-stage. There they found Bark arrayed in a somewhat resplendent evening dress, the effect of which, however, was slightly marred by the fact that the linen was exceedingly dingy. But he carried it all off with a truculent air. Obviously he had spent a good deal of the half-sovereign in liquid refreshment, and was in a condition which in a less seasoned drinker might have been called an advanced stage of intoxication."Well, Bark," Tanza said cheerfully. "So we have met again. No, you needn't trouble to express your gratification. You are coming on board my yacht with Mr. Grey to give us certain information we are in need of.""Lumme, yes," Bark said, with some emotion. "I'll tell you anything. I couldn't refuse an old friend."
CHAPTER X
THE FIRST OF THE FRUIT
The darkness was gathering by the time that Rent came back and Kate Charlock had her property gathered together. She had not packed up many things—just the necessaries for an extravagant woman like herself. The rest could follow later. She trusted to her tact and discretion to make the future smooth. Rent would have been dismayed if he had known how clearly she could read his mind. She had no intention of compromising herself. She was merely going to make use of him. But he need not know that yet. He need not know how perfectly she was able to take care of herself. A deep plot lay at the back of her mind, a means by which she could bring her husband to his knees. This was no senseless, confiding creature putting her future in the hands of a man she had known only for a few months. That she had seen more of him than her husband was aware mattered nothing. She did not fail to note that Rent looked greatly annoyed.
"I have been detained," he explained. "A business matter. I may have to come back to-morrow. But I can take you in the car I have borrowed as far as Portsmouth. Then we can get on to Devonshire as soon as possible, where I want you to stay with my mother. I know she will be glad to help you. That will be the means of stopping all idle gossip."
"How thoughtful you are," Kate Charlock murmured, as the chauffeur disappeared. "I have not burdened myself very much, because I thought that later—but I hardly dare to think of that. If you knew how frightened and terrified I am——"
The speaker broke off and a little sob came from her throat. It was dark now, and Rent took her in his arms and soothed her with loving words. It was too dark to see the outline of the figure standing by a belt of shrubs facing the door. But on the still air every word and sound carried, so that John Charlock, from his hiding-place, missed nothing. He would have been hard put to say why he had returned. Perhaps his conscience had smitten him. Perhaps it had occurred to him that he was treating his wife with undue severity. But the fact remained that he was back there again, prepared with a new proposition.
For the moment he had forgotten Arnold Rent. The man had never come into his mind again, though, at the time, he had meant to give Rent a sharp lesson on the prudence of minding his own business. He had come back through the shrubbery in time to witness a tender little scene in the porch. A wave of sudden anger passed over him. Then he grew calm and collected. After all, why should he interfere? Why should he come between this heartless woman and her platonic flirtation with this besotted fool—this business man gone mad?
For, man of the world as he was, Charlock had not yet grasped the true inwardness of the situation. That his wife was an actress to her fingertips he had learnt by bitter experience. Doubtless Rent had arrived to keep the appointment and thus these two had come together. Charlock smiled bitterly to himself as his mind dwelt upon the dramatic story which his wife must have had to tell. He could imagine how the woman would play upon the feelings of the man as a master plays upon an instrument. And the setting to the play was worthy of the great actress herself. No doubt Rent had been so moved by the whispered wrongs of this outraged wife that he had placed all he possessed at her disposal. Doubtless he was removing her to the loving custody of some relation who would take care of her for the present. But how far things had gone Charlock did not know. If he had, he might have interfered—and again he might not. It all depended upon his sardonic mood for the moment. He stood there now, erect and motionless, and disposed to watch the thing to the end. Presently the great car jumped forward, and a few moments later the tail lights had vanished down the drive.
"Well, why not?" Charlock murmured. "Unless I am greatly mistaken, Arnold Rent is a long way from being a fool. A little more knowledge of the world, and he is likely to be a force to cope with. Let him find out for himself. Let him learn what I have had to put up with. It will be an education for him. Upon my word, though he little knows it, I am going to prove that young man's greatest benefactor."
Meanwhile, the great car sped on through the darkness, with Kate Charlock and Rent behind and the driver in front. They were very quiet and subdued, for, after the first moments of his mid-summer madness, Rent could not be blind to the seriousness of the step he had taken. And the woman by his side, following his every mood and phase of thought, played up to him like a past mistress in the art of emotions. She laid her head tenderly on his shoulder and sighed, as she nestled up to him.
"You do not regret already?" she whispered.
"Regret?" Rent murmured passionately. "I will never do that. But one does not burn one's boats and mock all the shibboleths without realising the responsibilities that one is casting aside. I do hope that you understand that much, Kate."
Under cover of the darkness, the woman yawned slightly. She was beginning to long now for the life and bustle of the hotel, and, besides, she had not dined as yet, and, like most people who have their feelings well in hand, she was possessed of a healthy appetite. She jumped down briskly from the car as it pulled up at the Royal Solent Hotel, and the hall porter, majestic in his uniform, threw back the heavy plate-glass doors. To Rent's annoyance, the lounge was thronged with people in evening dress. He had forgotten the presence of Royalty in Portsmouth. He had expected to have the hotel pretty much to Kate and himself. It was no far cry to Southampton, and there was the chance of being recognized by somebody who knew one or another of them. Still, sooner or later, the ordeal would have to be encountered and dealt with. The thought had hardly flashed through Rent's mind before a strikingly handsome woman in evening dress rose from the lounge and came towards Kate Charlock. Then, as she caught sight of the man by her side, she appeared to hesitate, and something like a scornful smile swept across her dark features, and she slowly went back to her seat. But, all the same, she continued to stare at Kate Charlock and her companion. Kate grasped Rent's arm.
"Lady Strathmore," she whispered. "I am certain that she recognised us. Did you see how she came down the hall and then turned back? I wish we hadn't come here."
It was the first blow, and the woman staggered under it. She stood there, perplexed and uneasy. In a dim kind of way she comprehended the fact that Arnold Rent was ordering rooms for himself and Mrs. Charlock. It all came to her in a kind of dream. But she roused herself presently as Rent laid his hand upon her arm.
"This way," he said. "Come along."
They passed up the whole length of the lounge, so near to Lady Strathmore that Kate Charlock could have touched her. For the life of her she could not restrain one glance in the direction of the woman in black, and just for a brief moment their eyes met. Lady Strathmore's face was rigid as a mask, and her features had just a tinge of scornful amusement upon them. But there was not the slightest trace of recognition. Then, as the couple passed by, Lady Strathmore turned and whispered something to her companion, and both broke into a rippling laugh. With a feeling of thankfulness, Kate Charlock opened the sitting-room door.
"That is done," Arnold Rent said. He placed his hands on the woman's shoulders and looked down into her eyes. "Never mind, Kate. Always be kind to me, because, for your sake, I have given up my life's ambition to-night."
In a kind of fever, Rent went down the stairs in the direction of the lounge. He was furiously angry now and inclined to be quarrelsome. He would have liked to have it out with the woman who had slighted Kate Charlock. A month ago he would have laughed at his own folly and been scornfully amused at the idea that he should so far forget himself, though he had long had a passionate admiration for Kate. Even now, he was not quite clear what he was going to do. Up to the present he was inclined to play the honourable part. Even now he had only the woman's true interests at heart. Strange that he should have been so foolish. Strange that he should have imagined that his mother would take the same view of the matter as himself. But, then, she had always spoilt him in the past, and, though she was a rigid Puritan, doubtless she would continue to do so in the future.
Rent was shaken out of these thoughts by a hotel servant who approached him with a telegram. The man held out the envelope.
"You are Mr. Rent, sir?" he said. "Pardon me, but I think this must be for you. It is so strange a name."
Rent looked at the envelope in wonderment. No doubt the message was for him, though he was at a loss to know how any friend could have found him out. He opened the message and read:
"Danger here. Come back at once."
"How did they find me?" he murmured. "How did they get on my track? It was thoughtful, at any rate. Still, danger or no danger, I cannot go back."
CHAPTER XI
THE DOCTRINE OF PLATO
Across the breakfast-table Kate Charlock was smiling sweetly, but it was doubtful whether she heard a single word that Rent was saying. She was busy with her own thoughts, which were none of the sweetest. In the first instance she thought that she had counted the cost of her action, but on second thoughts she was not so sure. Still, she was satisfied she could not have complied with John Charlock's order, for it was nothing else. She would have to make the best of it now. She was eager to get away from England until the scandal had blown over. Kate Charlock was by no means devoid of vanity, and Lady Strathmore's studied insolence of the evening before had cut her to the quick. There was the danger of a repetition of this kind of thing so long as she and Rent remained at the Royal Solent Hotel.
But she was not blind to the material side of things. It had been the height of folly to go further without having first made overtures to Arnold's mother. If she should display anything like hostility, then, indeed, Kate might be said to have stepped out of the frying-pan into the fire.
"Oh, you needn't feel worried about that," Rent said, looking up from his paper. "No one ever yet was afraid of my mother. She is gentle and kind-hearted, but if she takes up the cudgels on anybody's behalf she can be amazingly firm. I don't think you need have any anxiety as to my mother."
The shadow of a contemptuous smile flickered across Kate Charlock's face. From her point of view, Rent's description of his mother was not reassuring. It was an outbreak of firmness of this kind that Kate Charlock had most reason to dread. It never occurred to Rent that his mother's firmness might take a wrong direction. Despite his handsome face and intellectual strength, it seemed to Kate that in many respects he was little better than a boy compared with her. The saint-like woman by his side could have acted as school-mistress to him. In her mind's eye she already pictured Mrs. Rent, heart-broken and humiliated at the prospect of the ruin of her son's prospects, and never yet was there mother who regarded her son's wife as in any way worthy of him. While Rent was babbling praises of his mother, Kate sat pondering the magnitude of the task which lay before her. So far she had hesitated to discuss the plan of campaign, but it would have to be done now. The proper thing was to strike while the iron was hot, to go straight to Devonshire and confront Mrs. Rent with the cataclysm before she had time to hear of it from good-natured friends outside.
"Of course, your mother will have to know," she said sweetly and thoughtfully. "I am looking forward to seeing her, and yet I dread the thought of meeting her. You will have to be prepared for a disappointment, Arnold. Your mother is certain to be shocked. She would be less than human if she does not lay all the blame upon my shoulders."
"Never," Rent cried. "I will make it quite clear that the blame is entirely mine. I wrote a long letter to my mother before breakfast, fully explaining everything——"
"You have not posted it, I hope. No? Well, I am glad of that, because I would prefer that letter not to go. There is only one thing for it—we must travel to Devonshire at once and your mother must receive the first intimation of what has happened from your own lips. Of course, I shall come with you. I am looking forward to the interview with the greatest possible dread, but my duty is clear. Besides, we must get away from here. Can't we go this very afternoon?"
Rent reproached himself for his thoughtless selfishness. He was prepared to do anything that his companion desired. But nothing could be settled before lunch. Most of the people had finished their luncheon, so that the two had the room to themselves. From the long balcony outside came the sound of voices, and Kate Charlock flushed uncomfortably as she recognised Lady Strathmore's tones. She had an uneasy feeling that she was the subject of discussion. A moment or two later Lady Strathmore herself came into the dining-room. She flashed a brilliant smile in Rent's direction, but she seemed to be unaware that he was not alone. A sudden anger possessed Kate Charlock. With audacious passion she came forward and held out her hand.
"You seem to have forgotten me," she said sweetly.
"Absolutely," the other woman murmured. "I am afraid you have a distinct advantage over me, though when I come to look at you again I see you bear a strong likeness to Mrs. John Charlock. But, of course, a dear saint like that would never so far compromise herself as to be lunching here with any man but her husband. Mr. Rent, can I have a few moments' conversation with you?"
The stroke was so swift and merciless, so utterly unexpected, that Kate Charlock had no reply. Overwhelmed and uncomfortable, with the tears smarting in her eyes, she sank into a chair, without the slightest attempt to detain Rent. His face was crimson, too. The corners of his sensitive mouth trembled, but he followed Lady Strathmore politely to the balcony.
"I am going to be candid with you," she said. "Oh, I quite understand how things are. I am a woman of the world and can judge for myself. It is a pity you are not a man of the world, also, or this would never have happened. Can't you see for yourself that you ought not to stay here? Surely you recognised me last night. I am speaking for your own good, because you are a young man whose education in some respects has been sadly neglected. Take my advice——"
"You are mistaken," Rent exclaimed. "And as regards Mrs. Charlock, she is as good and pure as any woman——"
"Oh, I have heard all that before," Lady Strathmore said, with a pitying smile. "You see, I happen to belong to the same set as Mrs. Bromley-Martin, and we are not so shallow-minded and frivolous as you appear to imagine. One side of a story always holds good till the other is told. Don't you think John Charlock has a side to the story as well?"
Rent muttered something incoherent. Recalling to mind now his strange interview with John Charlock, he could not see that the latter had a single claim to consideration. It was useless to discuss that matter with this hard, worldly woman.
"I see that I am wasting your time," Lady Strathmore went on. "Still, I might as well tell you that Mrs. Bromley-Martin and some of her friends are coming to have tea with me this afternoon at four o'clock, and if in the meanwhile you discover that you have important business elsewhere, why—well, good-bye. Wonderfully fresh and bracing atmosphere this morning, don't you think?"
The shrewd woman of the world smiled and went her way. Arnold Rent's thoughts were not pleasing as he returned to the dining-room. Already he was beginning dimly to comprehend the far-reaching effects of his impulsive action, but his heart smote him as he noted the pathetic droop of Kate Charlock's shoulders as she sat toying with her lunch. Lady Strathmore was right. It was necessary to go away at once. It might be possible to reach Devonshire before night, and, on the whole, it would be better to say nothing to Kate about the impending visit of Mrs. Bromley-Martin and her frivolous friends.
"What did she want?" Kate asked wearily.
"Really, I can hardly tell you," Rent stammered. "I don't think she meant to be unkind, though she is a bit hard. The gist of our conversation was that I should get away at once."
Kate Charlock smiled in her sweet, melancholy way, though her heart was hot within her and passionate words trembled on her lips.
"We must try to forgive her," she said gently, "though she was very cruel to me. But she is right about leaving, and the sooner we set out for Devonshire the better. If you will pay the bill, I will go up—what is the matter?"
"Upon my word, I am very sorry," Rent stammered, "but I have only a few shillings in my pocket. In the excitement of yesterday I forgot all about money. Of course, I could telegraph to my solicitors, but even then I could not hear till the morning. Still, I know one or two people here, and I will go out at once and see if I can borrow a few pounds. I sha'n't be long."
She sat there till a waiter came into the room with an envelope in his hand. With some agitation she noticed that the handwriting was that of Rent. She waved the waiter from the room and, in a frenzy of eagerness, tore open the envelope. There were only a few words hurriedly scrawled on the back of a visiting card.
"There is no help for it," the missive ran, "but I must go back to Cowes at once. The business is urgent and admits of no delay. Stay where you are until I return. At the very most I cannot be longer than two hours."
There was passion as well as hate in Kate Charlock's eyes as she tore the card into fragments.
"What does this mean?" she asked. "Can he intend to leave me here? But, no, I cannot possibly believe anything of the kind. And yet, how very awkward!"
CHAPTER XII
A CRIME OR NOT?
It was the day following the dramatic disappearance of Kate Charlock, and once more Tanza and his companion were on board the yacht. The Italian had been away most of the morning, and had only arrived in time for lunch. He appeared to be on excellent terms with himself. There was a merry twinkle in his eye as he contentedly sucked his cigarette.
"You are not going to tell me anything, then?" he asked.
"My dear sir, there isn't anything to tell you," Malcolm Grey replied. "I won't say that I haven't made a discovery or two, because that wouldn't be true. At the same time, I stick to my original idea of keeping what I know to myself. We will both go our own way and see what we can make of it. But I am more or less convinced that your original suggestion is correct, and that there was foul play in the matter of the French maid."
Tanza's eyes sparkled brightly.
"I have never had the slightest doubt of it," he said. "I have an instinct for that kind of thing. I knew that we had to deal with a scoundrel above the common. The whole thing is most fascinating. I suppose you have heard the latest development?"
"Indeed, I haven't," Grey said. "Tell me."
"Mrs. Charlock has left her husband. There are a good many versions as to the cause of the quarrel. But, at any rate, she has gone, apparently leaving no trace behind her. I dare say there are faults on both sides; he is a hard man, and she is an extravagant, thoughtless woman. One never knows what a man of the artistic temperament is going to do. It seems that Charlock has disposed of his household goods and has made up his mind to spend the next year or two in a cottage."
"Posing, I presume," Grey said cynically.
"No, I don't think so," Tanza went on. "He is too great a genius to indulge in childish follies. He can afford to leave that kind of thing to the log-rollers. I understand that he has outrun the constable, and that he has every desire to get on terms with the world again. Anyway, his wife wouldn't go with him, and I believe they have separated. As the man is a friend of yours, I thought you might have heard about this."
But Grey shook his head. The information was news to him. He was a little annoyed, too, because there were certain facts which he expected to gather from Charlock. He sat there debating the matter for a short time in his mind, then announced his intention of seeking out Charlock. It was possible the artist had not left the neighbourhood yet, and there was no time to be lost. Tanza raised no objection. He hinted that he had work to do himself and that he could dispense with Grey's company for the rest of the afternoon.
A little time afterwards Grey walked up the drive of Charlock's house. There was nothing in the condition of the grounds to indicate that the place was empty. The lawns had been freshly cut, the flower-beds were trim and neat as usual. It was only the blank, staring windows and the litter of straw on the front door which told the story. As Grey stood there the door opened, and Charlock himself came out. There was a grim, significant smile on his face.
"You are astonished to see this?" he asked.
"Not in the least," Grey said. "I should not be astonished at anything you did. But, if it isn't an impertinent question, why are you acting in this fashion? It seems almost a sacrilege to strip a beautiful place like this. And if you must leave it, why not have let it furnished?"
A cynical laugh broke from Charlock's lips.
"It takes time to let a furnished house," he said, "even a little paradise like this. And the lesson loses nothing of its force because it is administered promptly and speedily. When I bark, I bite. And I don't want to give warning. Ah, you don't know what it is to be mated to an extravagant wife who has no consideration for any one but herself. I should be, at the present moment, a rich man. I have no vices. My personal expenditure is nothing. But I do love to be surrounded by things that are good and beautiful. That is why I spent so much in furnishing this house. I thought I was one of the happiest of men. I thought I was going to lead an ideal existence. But I found I was tied to a woman whose one idea was fashion, who thought nothing of playing at gardening in a Paris frock that cost fifty or sixty pounds. And one day I awoke to the fact that I was on the verge of bankruptcy. Great Scott! how those bills came rolling in! There was only one thing to be done—to act at once. There are no half measures with me. I cut everything adrift. I have taken a labourer's cottage. I told my wife she would have to live there with me and do everything till every farthing was paid. And now she has gone."
Charlock spoke harshly and bitterly. It was rarely, indeed, that he mentioned his own feelings. But the wound was too recent. And there was something in Grey's manner that invited confidence.
"Your wife will think better of it," the latter murmured.
"Will she? Yes, perhaps, when the leopard changes his spots and the Ethiopian his skin, but not till then. Oh, everybody will side with her, of course. Everybody knows that I am hard and harsh and difficult to live with. She will pose as an injured woman, and the blame will be mine; indeed, she has begun to do so already. What do you think of her making a convert of Arnold Rent? Fancy that cynical man of the world, who would stick at nothing to gratify his ambition, forfeiting his future for the sake of my injured wife! That is the idea. He has become her champion. I presume he is going to look after her welfare till I am forced to make her a proper allowance. Probably you will hear of the thing again in the law courts—the well-known artist and his outraged wife, and all that kind of thing. Well, let them take what steps they like; I sha'n't trouble to defend it. And yet behind it all there is a comedy so amusing that I feel inclined to laugh in spite of myself. What do you think of my wife's going down to Devonshire to seek an asylum under the roof of Rent's mother? And what do you think of me as an honoured guest in the same house? I am not joking. The thing is in my own hands; indeed, it is more or less imperative, especially as I am not very busy, and an early commission is essential. There is a situation in a play for you! Think what Pinero would make out of it! But why should I bore you with these sordid details? They cannot interest you."
Before Grey could make a suitable reply Charlock held out his hand and bade his companion a blunt good-day. He turned back to the house and banged the door behind him, as if ashamed at this display of feeling. It was not often that the strong man cried aloud so that the world might know of his hurt. He was furious with himself that he had done so now. And it seemed to Grey that it would be in bad taste to attempt to follow his friend and clear up the points which had been the object of his journey.
He walked out of the gates and down the road to the outskirts of the town to the newly erected buildings where, until the past day or two, Arnold Rent had been conducting a series of experiments in wireless telegraphy. The office was close to the shore. One or two workmen were engaged with some apparatus the like of which Grey had not seen before. It was only natural that he should be interested in what was going on, that he should linger for a moment or two, until the office door opened and a clerk emerged. With some directness of manner, but civilly enough, he asked Grey's business. The scientist turned to face the man, abnormally thin and tall—a man with a face like faded yellow parchment, lighted by a pair of sombre, smouldering eyes.
"You seem to have forgotten me, Swift," Grey said. "Have I altered so much during the last two years?"
The tall man gasped. His features twitched convulsively for a moment. Then the colour of his face changed. A sullen red tinged the parchment hue, leaving it still more pallid a minute afterwards.
"Mr. Grey," he stammered. "What do you want here?"
There was something embarrassed, almost guilty, in the speaker's manner. Grey smiled as he replied.
"I am interested in all these kinds of things," he said. "But don't think I come here to learn your secrets. As a matter of fact, I called to see Mr. Rent."
"He is away," the tall man explained. "But now a piece of business has turned up and I am telegraphing him in the course of the day. Is there anything I can tell him?"
"I don't think so," Grey said thoughtfully. "Anyway, there is no hurry. And how are you doing? Have you got over the old weakness? For, if so, you are likely to realise the old ambitions, after all. Don't think me impertinent."
"I don't," Swift said indifferently. "I am only human, and I begin to realise that I shall never be able to cope with that accursed thing. Still, I am better than I was, and I am fairly happy here doing congenial work. You see——"
What Swift was going to say was cut short by the appearance of a third party. He was a slight, dapper man, with prominent features and sleek, glossy hair. His manner was heavily dashed with audacity. He was ludicrously overdressed, and he carried the fact that he was an unregenerate scamp written in every line of his face.
"You are wasting your time," Swift said coldly. "Mr. Rent desires me to say that he does not know you and has no desire to see you. I hope I make myself plain."
"Oh, very well," the stranger said. "In that case, I will wait till Mr. Rent comes back and see him personally. I shall find a way to refresh his memory, and don't you forget it. I don't allow anybody to play the fool with Ephraim Bark."
CHAPTER XIII
MODERN FRIENDSHIP
As Kate Charlock sat debating her position with anxiety, the door opened cautiously and a gaily dressed figure slipped into the room. The place seemed to be half-filled with billowing draperies and the air was heavy with subtle perfume. Kate Charlock turned in amazement upon the intruder.
"Jessica!" she gasped. "What are you doing here?"
"You may well ask that," Mrs. Bromley-Martin tittered. "But a little bird told me what was going on, and when I had a wire from Lady Strathmore this morning asking me to bring a mob over to tea this afternoon, I jumped at the opportunity. My word, what a time we have had all morning pulling your character to pieces! And just now, when Belle Langley bet me a dozen pairs of gloves I dare not come up and interview you, I closed like a shot. Well, what have you to say for yourself?"
From head to foot Kate Charlock quivered with indignation. She was not blind to her own folly, but, then, she had so hedged herself in with self-pity that she did not regard herself as the average woman who has fallen away from grace. Her case was quite different. But she merely smiled as she replied.
"I have nothing to say for myself," she responded. "I am content to leave my character in the hands of those who, like yourself, are acquainted with my unhappy domestic life. My husband chose to turn me out of house and home, and the punishment should be his more than mine. I know that socially my life is finished."
"Terribly sad," Mrs. Bromley-Martin laughed gaily. "I am not going to blame you. You are no worse than two-thirds of us, as you know very well. Besides, we ought to be grateful to you for giving us something fresh to talk about. Still, we shall miss our tall, white saint who was the connecting link between ourselves and absolute respectability. But I must not stay longer. One has to be careful, you know."
"Yes, with a reputation like yours, one has to be," Mrs. Charlock said sweetly. "You may tell your friends that they need not trouble to waste their sympathy upon me. I am quite happy."
Kate Charlock's looks belied her words as Mrs. Bromley-Martin flitted from the room like some great gauze butterfly. She had little enough to be happy about, she told herself; from the bottom of her heart she resented the patronage of her late visitor. At length she was roused from her reverie by the entrance of a servant with a telegram on a tray. It was addressed to Rent, but Kate opened it and glanced carelessly at the contents. Her face did not move a muscle as she turned to the waiter and told him that there was no reply.
Yet the few words were calculated to disturb. They were charged with meaning and called for immediate action. It was clear that the telegram came from Arnold Rent's mother.
"Have just received your letter," the message ran. "Am terribly surprised and shocked. On no account come here, as I am travelling to see you and will call to-morrow afternoon.
"HELEN RENT."
Kate crushed the flimsy paper into a ball and tossed it contemptuously into the fireplace. A moment later and she was reading the words again thoughtfully. Doubtless some enemy had done this thing, and the words brought the reader no sort of comfort. Kate Charlock recognised courage and stern determination of purpose on the part of the sender of the message. Her ready wit saw that it was necessary to strike a counter-blow without delay. It was evident that Mrs. Rent would adopt a firm attitude and could carry out her part far better in the Royal Solent Hotel than under her own roof. She must start for Devonshire instantly as the only possible way of saving the situation.
Would Arnold Rent really return? It was getting on towards five o'clock and he had been gone for two hours. With a sigh of mingled impatience and surprise, she heard him coming along the corridor. He looked uncomfortable.
"Upon my word, I am very sorry," he said, "but, as luck would have it, I have not been able to find a single friend. We must wait till I get money from my solicitors to-morrow morning. The delay is maddening!"
"Meanwhile, what are we to do about this?" Kate asked, as she held out the telegram. "This is from your mother."
"Perhaps it is a good thing," Rent said. "It will save us a journey, at any rate. You must not be annoyed with my mother. It is only natural that she should feel like that, till the case is explained to her. When she has seen us and heard everything shemustbe on our side. We can have dinner here and spend the evening together."
For a moment a gleam of anger came into Kate Charlock's eyes. She felt a wild desire to lay her hand upon Rent, to box his ears, to do anything as an outlet for her rage at his crass stupidity. She schooled herself, though as she stood there her finger nails were cutting into the white flesh of her palms.
"You don't understand," she said. "Your mother may forgive you, but she will never forgive me. If we meet here, there will be an end of everything. But under her own roof she will be bound by the dictates of hospitality to listen to what we have to say. I have been looking out the trains, and if we start within an hour we ought to reach our destination this evening."
"It shall be as you please," Rent said tenderly. "I will go with you now, if you choose. There is one little thing you have forgotten—I have no money, and the railway people won't give credit——"
"Oh, please don't raise these obstacles," Kate Charlock cried wearily. "I suppose you carry a watch?"
"Oh, no, my dear, I never carry one. And if I did, what use would it be to us just now?"
In spite of herself a laugh broke from Kate Charlock's lips. Would this man never improve? She crossed the room to her dressing-case and took out a diamond bangle.
"There!" she said. "You are going to have a new experience. I daresay you will have no difficulty in raising twenty pounds on that. You understand what I mean? I have nothing else to spare."
Arnold Rent inclined his head shamefully.
"Oh, I am speaking of a pawnbroker. There is no need to flush and look uncomfortable, because the thing has to be done, whether you like it or not. And, besides, there is no disgrace in the transaction. The pawnbroker keeps open his shop to do business and is as anxious for your patronage as the butcher or the grocer. Ask the first policeman you meet where you can find a respectable shop, and the rest will be easy."
"My dear girl," Rent said, with a hardening of his lips, "I couldn't do it. We must wait."
Kate Charlock shot one glance at him. Then she laid her head upon the table and burst into a flood of tears. The strategy was successful, for Rent jumped in agitation to his feet and slipped the bangle into his pocket.
"For Heaven's sake, don't cry," he said. "For your sake I will do anything. I had quite forgotten——"
His voice trailed away in an incoherent manner. He grabbed at his hat and left the room. The woman's eyes dried like magic. A smile trembled on her lips. But the anxious feeling did not leave her. Her heart would not lighten till the express train pulled out from the station on its long journey to the West. The fight was coming and Kate Charlock did not mean to fail.
Despite the extent of his infatuation, the pill was none the less a bitter one for Rent to swallow. He was back again at the hotel presently, with the sovereigns jingling as he came in.
"I am glad that is all right," she said. "And now tell me why you behaved so badly just now? Surely you could not have had business of so great importance as to take you away from me in a crisis like this! It is not as if you were engaged in trade. Now tell me what it was. You can trust me."
An ingenious prevarication trembled upon Rent's lips, when the waiter entered the room with a further telegram. Rent glanced at it more or less carelessly, but, though he was conscious his colour changed, he managed to drop the telegram coolly in the fire.
"The business was not my own," he said, "therefore I cannot tell it you. But I am afraid you will have to be patient. That telegram came from the same quarter and admits of no delay. You won't mind very much if I go back to Cowes now and return in the morning?"
Kate Charlock swallowed her passion. She saw that the time had come to act and struck accordingly.
"Very well," she said. "In that case I will go back to my husband. It is not yet too late and I am not ashamed to meet him. It must be one thing or the other."
Rent stifled what sounded like a groan.
"As you like," he said. "I shall not be the first fool beguiled by a woman!"
CHAPTER XIV
BARK IS CONFIDENTIAL
Malcolm Grey stood somewhat uncomfortably outside the little office on the seashore, hardly knowing what to do. In some vague way the features of the person who called himself Ephraim Bark were familiar, though he could not place the man. He would have stayed a little longer, only he seemed to be in the way; it looked, too, as if he were listening to a private conversation. He knew Arnold Rent by reputation and personally. He was aware that the latter had the character of a man about town, not too scrupulous where his passions and fancies were concerned. One or two strange tales had come to Grey's ears, though, at the time, he had paid small heed to them. And here was a man, whom no gentleman would touch without gloves, actually speaking as if he held some power over Rent. No man who did not feel positive of his ground would have spoken in that bullying way, especially as the fellow gave every indication of being a coward if he came to be tackled.
At any other time Grey would have dismissed the incident with a shrug of the shoulders, but he had his own reasons now for learning all he could concerning the past history of Arnold Rent. Therefore he lingered to see what was likely to be the upshot of the interview.
He saw Swift's hands clenched with passion. He saw the desire to strike down the intruder gleaming in his eyes. Then Swift restrained himself, as if suddenly remembering that this was an occasion when diplomacy was wiser than strength.
"It is useless for you to hang about here," Swift said. "Mr. Rent is not in the neighbourhood, and I don't suppose he will be back before morning. You can come and see him if you like, but I should not advise you to do so."
"That's all very well," the aggrieved Bark burst out. "But what am I to do in the meantime? And why should he have everything while I've got nothing? By the time I have had my dinner I sha'n't have a cent to pay my lodgings. Just hand over a sovereign or two to go on with. Do you hear?"
"I hear," Swift said coldly. "I regret that I have no money to spare. And I don't think I should let you have it if I had. Come, clear out, or I'll have to put you off the premises."
For the moment it looked as if the truculent Bark would show fight, but he contented himself with vague threats and innuendoes as he turned on his heel and sauntered away. Grey no longer doubted that the man had a powerful hold on Arnold Rent. He waited a few moments, discussing general matters with Swift; then he, too, strode into the road and followed Bark. There was no occasion to introduce himself to this individual, for, without a moment's hesitation, Bark raised his curly brimmed hat with what he believed to be refined and courtly politeness. Grey pulled up at once.
"You'll excuse me, Mr. Grey," Bark said effusively, "but I hope you won't mind doing me a little favour?"
"You know my name, then?" Grey said. "I ought to recognise you, but my memory plays me false."
A look of deep cunning came into Bark's eyes.
"You can't know me, sir," he said, "considering that most of my life has been passed in Paris. But I know you by sight and reputation, because I am by way of being a bit of a scientist myself. I came down to see Mr. Rent, and this is how they treat me! And to think of what I've done for that man, to think of what I know about him! Why, I have only to raise my little finger and say the word, and before a day passed our friend——"
A judicious fit of coughing put an end to further revelations on the part of Bark. He seemed to realise that he was going too far and instantly changed his tone. But this did not deceive Grey.
"Ah!" said Bark, "I am talking too fast, as usual. You might think by my tone that I was threatening Mr. Rent. As a matter of fact, I am only disappointed at his carelessness. But it is very awkward for me. Here am I with only a few shillings in my pocket, which would have been fifty pounds if I had seen Mr. Rent. Now, will you be offended if I ask you for the loan of a fiver for two or three days?"
Grey hesitated for a moment. Would the expenditure be justified? Then, by inspiration, it occurred to him that perhaps Tanza might know this plausible scamp. Certainly it might be worth while to temporise.
"I am sorry," he said, "but I have very little money in my pocket. I can let you have ten shillings, if you like."
Bark audibly expressed his disappointment.
"Well, perhaps I can do better than that," Grey, said, with a smile. "Let me give you the ten shillings to go on with, and if you will be on the landing-stage to-night at nine o'clock I will meet you and give you the balance of the five pounds. I suppose that will be convenient?"
Bark's eyes gleamed with a greedy light.
"Spoken like a man and a brother," he cried. "Now, there's a pal for you! There's a friend in need when a poor chap is down on his luck through no fault of his own! Mr. Grey, you're a gentleman. And it is evident you know another gentleman when you see him."
"I hope so," Grey said drily.
"That being so," said Bark, ignoring the sarcasm, "I will be on the landing-stage at nine o'clock. Thank you very much. In my hard-up state even the half-sovereign is acceptable. You will excuse me if I leave you, as I have an appointment to keep, a business matter involving thousands."
So saying, Bark, with another flourish of his hat, swaggered off down the street. Grey smiled to himself as he saw the flashy little adventurer turn into a public-house. Then, in a thoughtful frame of mind, he went back to the yacht in search of Tanza, whom he found sprawling in a deck chair, deeply engrossed in his eternal cigarettes and reading a French novel.
"What news?" the Italian asked gaily. "I see you have had an interesting morning by the expression of your face. At any rate, your conversation will be more engrossing than this book. Now unbosom yourself."
"There isn't much to tell you at present," said Grey. "I have been following up my investigations and have ascertained one or two important pieces of information. I rather wanted to see Rent, but he is away. I went down to his place, where I found an old friend of ours in the person of John Swift."
"Oh, indeed!" Tanza exclaimed, lifting his eyebrows. "Now that is a man who was made to adorn anything he touched. If he could only keep away from the infernal drink he might now have been one of our leading scientists. What is he doing in these parts?"
"Acting as assistant to Rent," Grey explained. "But that isn't what I wanted to talk to you about. I don't mind telling you I have got hold of a most important clue, and as all roads are said to lead to Rome, so everybody I am meeting at present seems to be more or less mixed up with the matter I have in hand. While I was talking to Swift a man turned up and demanded to see Arnold Rent. He was very disappointed to find that Rent wasn't at home and was at no pains to disguise his feelings. His manner had a suggestion of blackmail about it. Also he seemed to be pretty sure of his ground. I don't suppose I should have given the fellow another thought had I not felt sure I had seen him somewhere. And I thought perhaps that you, with your amazing acquaintance with all sorts and conditions of scoundrels, might know something about him."
"Have you managed to learn his name?" Tanza asked.
"Well, yes, I did, if he doesn't happen to be passing under somealias. He is called Ephraim Bark. Rather a curious sort of name, isn't it?"
"I know him quite well," he said. "That is his name. At any rate, I never heard him called anything else. He is a most plausible and ingenious rascal, and I should very much like to meet him again. I suppose you have his address; if so, we will seek him out and entertain him after dinner."
Grey explained exactly what course he had adopted, and Tanza was pleased to signify his approval. So it came about that shortly after nine o'clock the two proceeded to the landing-stage. There they found Bark arrayed in a somewhat resplendent evening dress, the effect of which, however, was slightly marred by the fact that the linen was exceedingly dingy. But he carried it all off with a truculent air. Obviously he had spent a good deal of the half-sovereign in liquid refreshment, and was in a condition which in a less seasoned drinker might have been called an advanced stage of intoxication.
"Well, Bark," Tanza said cheerfully. "So we have met again. No, you needn't trouble to express your gratification. You are coming on board my yacht with Mr. Grey to give us certain information we are in need of."
"Lumme, yes," Bark said, with some emotion. "I'll tell you anything. I couldn't refuse an old friend."