CHAPTER XXIIIA FRIEND IN ADVERSITY
Blue skies and sunshine and a rippling silver sea, all nature jocund and gay, and for the first time in her young life Meriel was unresponsive to the appeal. The romance had gone out of life. The man she had learned to love was a thief—a thief. She told herself fiercely that she no longer loved him, that she had never loved him, but the ache at her heart gave the lie to the declaration.
The perpetual ache at her heart! If she could only have shared the burden with Mrs. Marven, taken advantage of her Aunt's sympathetic counsel, sobbed out her trouble and her despair on that motherly breast, the pain would have been easier to bear. But she could not do that. Thief though he was, Meriel could not betray Guy's confidence.
Mrs. Marven wondered at the girl's reticence. Yet she waited in patience for the confidence which was not yet given. Sooner or later she felt it would be given to her. Her husband had told her of Guy's conversation with him. She gathered that no ordinary blow had shattered her darling's romance, and, though she longed to counsel and to comfort, to mingle her tears with Meriel's, yet she did not press her for the confidence which was withheld.
Yet, though the girl suffered, she strove to put hermisery from her, to busy herself with trivial duties. She went to the garden, but she could not remain amongst the flowers. Her glance fell on a rose Guy had tied. Now it was battered by the storm, and shapeless—like her romance. She passed through the garden, across the meadow, and on to the sea-wall. She desired to be alone, that was all. She strolled idly along, unseeing anything but the tide slowly rising over the mud, quite unconscious of the approach of an acquaintance.
Mr. Hildebrand Flurscheim had recognised Meriel while yet some distance away, and had hastened his footsteps. He had wondered that she was alone, but congratulated himself on the fact, for then Guy would probably be alone, too. He wanted a private conference with Guy. He, too, had been troubled greatly in his thoughts during the previous day and night. Ever since Cornelius Jessel had revealed to him the fact that one item of his missing property was in Guy's possession, he had been rejoicing in the thought that vengeance on his spoliators was soon to be within his reach. Not that he wholly trusted the valet's word. The shadow-man was not possessed of a confidence-inspiring personality, but the man had not asked for any cash on account for the information he had furnished. Flurscheim judged that the informer must have been quite convinced as to the truth of his information, or he would not have been so confiding. Flurscheim had arranged with him to secure the miniature so that he might identify it. After that his course would be simple. The police would do the rest. He blessed the lucky chance which had brought him to recognise the strange likeness which existed betweenMeriel and the missing miniature. But for that curious coincidence he might never have had the opportunity of getting on the track of his missing treasures.
Meriel had been correct in her intuition when she read another meaning in his warning to Guy to beware of the approaching storm. He could not resist the jest. But then the events which had immediately followed played havoc with his plans and projects.
Guy had saved his life. Would the man who had robbed him have done that? Hildebrand Flurscheim set great store by his life. When he felt himself falling, when the water closed over his head, a great horror possessed him. He struggled madly, blindly, against the fearful thing. Then a strong hand had gripped him. He had still struggled until dimly he had comprehended that a cool voice was commanding him to be still, telling him that he was safe. The words repeated again and again had impressed themselves upon his consciousness. He had ceased to struggle. He had trusted entirely to the strong hand which supported him. Then, he knew not how, other hands had lifted him up and taken him into a boat. He had opened his eyes and seen Guy clamber up over the stern, had heard him say, "Not much the matter, eh, Mr. Flurscheim?"
The experience seemed to have lasted hours. He said little, but he had insisted, when Guy was put aboard theWitch, on shaking the young man's hand. And when, afterwards, the horror of those moments returned to him there was renewed in his mind the feeling of gratitude to his preserver. He was glad that it was in his power to repay in some measure the debt of gratitude he owed. Guy had given his life. Well, he could give Guy liberty. Yet he was not altogether satisfied in his mind.He had no reason for thinking that Guy had worked single-handed, and he saw no reason why other parties should be participants in his gratitude. Yet, rather than Guy should suffer, all the guilty parties should escape. Certainly the experience of being at hand-grips with death had wrought a wonderful change in Mr. Hildebrand Flurscheim's views, for it was with this determination in his mind that he left his yacht, intending to call at the Hall and tell Guy of Jessel's communication, and of his determination not to act upon the information.
Not until he was a yard away and he spoke, did Meriel recognise the connoisseur. A shadow of annoyance crossed her face. This man seemed to her to be the cause, though a perfectly innocent cause, of Guy's undoing. She bowed slightly, and would have passed by, but Flurscheim stood in her path.
"Pardon me, Miss Challys," he said, "can you tell me where I can find Mr. Guy Hora? I have something of importance to say to him."
There was a shade of agitation in his voice. Meriel was startled. Again the thought came to her, "Did he suspect Guy? Was that the explanation of the presence of himself and his yacht at Whitsea?"
She strove to answer steadily.
"Mr. Hora left for London by the first train this morning."
An exclamation of annoyance escaped Flurscheim. "It is most important that I should see him at once. Most important. Will you give me his address? I must send him a wire immediately."
The colour left her face. She trembled. She was sure now thatFlurscheim knew who had robbed him of his treasures, that his anxiety was due to the fear lest the robber should escape him. How could she warn Guy? How could she refuse to supply Flurscheim with the address he asked? Even if she were to refuse, her aunt or uncle would give it. They knew of no reason why it should be kept secret.
Flurscheim saw her hesitation, and a strange suspicion germinated in his mind. "Surely she is not one of the gang," he thought.
His intent gaze increased her discomposure. His suspicions increased. He ventured a bold stroke.
"I wish to make some return for the service Mr. Hora has rendered me," he said quietly. "Facts have come to my knowledge which go to show that he is in considerable danger. If you do not trust me, will you convey to him the warning?"
Again she looked at him doubtingly. "You would be his friend?" she asked amazedly.
"If Mr. Hora will allow me," he answered, and seeing that she still hesitated, he continued earnestly. "Will you not believe me, Miss Challys, when I say that I would do anything in my power to save Mr. Hora from a fate which would mean absolute ruin to him. May I go so far as to say that if you are in the slightest degree interested in his welfare you will not waste any time in communicating to him the message I will give you."
There was a deep feeling expressed more in his tone than the words he used. Instinctively Meriel felt that he was to be trusted.
"I will give you Guy—Mr. Hora's address," she remarked. "I cannot communicate with him myself."
"Why—I thought——" he remarked and paused.
Meriel did not pretend to misunderstand the swiftly checked exclamation. She shook her head sadly.
"I am a very unhappy girl, Mr. Flurscheim," she said, and despite her efforts tears mounted to her eyes.
"There! There! There! Say no more," interrupted the connoisseur hastily. "Misunderstandings will occur between young people."
Meriel again shook her head. "Yesterday Mr. Hora told me something regarding himself which I could not have suspected; part of what he told me concerned you, Mr. Flurscheim, and—so he has gone."
"Then the miniature did not come into his possession by accident!" ejaculated Flurscheim. "And all the time I was hoping that it had."
"No," said Meriel. "It was no accident." The words slipped from her. Flurscheim realised that she knew all about the robbery. He began to question her eagerly, but she would answer him nothing. Already she had been betrayed into a confidence which she regretted, and when he realised her difficulty, he ceased to ask for details.
"It makes no difference in my intentions," he said. "Whether Mr. Hora was himself the burglar who stole my picture and the miniatures, or whether he was only one of the parties who handled them afterwards, would make no difference to my course of action. If he is warned immediately there will be time for him to clear out of the way. If not——" He shrugged his shoulders expressively.
"But why?" asked Meriel.
Flurscheim repeated the story Jessel had told him.
"I can keep the man's mouth closed for a certain time,"he said, "but sooner or later he will blab it out, and once the police get on the track——" Again he shrugged his shoulders.
Meriel was more than ever amazed at the Jew's attitude. She let some of her surprise escape in speech.
"You, knowing where some of your valuables are, are willing to forego all chance of their recovery, to let the—the thief—go unpunished? You who everybody says had determined to spend the whole of the rest of your life on the recovery."
The Jew spread out the palms of his hands in a characteristically racial gesture.
"The rest of my life," he said. "My life would have been ended yesterday but for Mr. Guy Hora. Strange as it may seem, life is very good in my eyes. I might never have known how good but for my accident. It was slipping away and he gave it back to me. That was a debt which I must repay. Miss Challys, never yet have I failed to meet every obligation that I have incurred. Ask Christian or Jew who has ever had dealings with me if Hildebrand Flurscheim has ever failed to take up his bond when it became due."
She murmured something about the nobility of his attitude, but he would not accept any such complimentary description.
"It is just my business point of view," he remarked drily. "Suppose I put the value of the pictures at fifty thousand pounds. Personally I would give double that amount for my life, though I should very much doubt whether anybody else would give as many pence."
Laughter and tears strove for mastery in her face.
"You have greatly relieved my mind, Mr. Flurscheim,"she said softly. "Though I shall never see Mr. Hora again, yet I—I could not bear to think of him in prison."
"You had better see him again, and quickly, too, if you want to keep him out of it," snapped the Jew promptly in response. "It will want a woman's hand to do that, and from what I have observed you are about the only person in the world who has half a chance of succeeding."
The direct attack, voicing the thought she had striven to suppress, brought the colour surging to her cheeks. "Don't you understand," she cried. "He is a thief—a thief."
"He seems to be a rare plucky one anyway," answered Flurscheim. Meriel laughed hysterically. "There! There! There!" said the connoisseur in his most soothing manner, "I didn't mean to hurt you, and I can see you are very much upset. Perhaps we will talk over this bad business later and see what we can manage between us."
There was so much kindness in his manner, so real a delicacy in his whole attitude, that Meriel felt more than ever inclined to confide the whole story to him. He was a man of the world. He owed Guy a debt of gratitude. She had not promised Guy to keep silence. He had never asked her, for he had realised that the request would have been an insult. There was little time to argue the matter with herself. Flurscheim was impatient to depart. She obeyed the impulse.
"Mr. Flurscheim," she said, "will you treat what I tell you as strictly confidential, and take no action without my permission?"
"I give you my word," he said gravely.
Meriel glanced round her. No living soul was in sight. They stood alone upon the sea-wall. Flurscheim noted her glance.
"There's no chance of being overheard," he remarked. At a little distance was a stile in a rail fence which separated one meadow from another. Flurscheim pointed to it.
"Come along," he said brusquely, and there the girl made known to her companion the story of Guy's life as she had heard it from his lips.
"He is not so greatly to blame, is he, Mr. Flurscheim?" she asked eagerly, when she had finished the narration. "And yet nothing can alter the fact that he is a thief."
The Jew had listened with growing amazement. To him the story seemed the wildest, maddest romance he had ever heard. He could scarcely believe his ears. To Meriel's appeal he could only reply at first with an Hebraic invocation, uttered beneath his breath. Then he asked, "And you really think he was telling the truth?"
"If you had seen his face, you would have had no need to ask the question," she answered sorrowfully.
"It's the tallest story I've ever heard," he remarked. "But whether true or not, if we want to do anything for him the first step is to get him out of the hands of that old scoundrel of a father, and," he added, "I am more than ever convinced that only a woman can do that. Think it over, Miss Challys, think it over." He glanced at his watch. "Now if you will give me his address, I will be off. I have a number of things to do before returning to town."
She gave him the address. She responded heartily tohis farewell, and as she stood watching him as he hastened along the path towards the quay it seemed to her that already the burden of her trouble was lightened. She trusted Flurscheim implicitly, and yet twenty-four hours previously she would have been prepared to assert that he would have been the last person in the world of whom she would have taken counsel in her distress.
Not that her mind was at rest. She merely was relieved from anxiety as regards Guy's immediate safety. As to the future there was no trace of a silver lining to the clouds. Guy and she had parted. Yet Flurscheim's words stuck in her brain. "Only a woman could help him." Only a woman!