In White Raiment

by William Le Queux

wide portico,supported by four immense columns, before which we alighted. The place,standing close to the entrance to a large square, was a handsome one,with bright flowers in boxes before the windows, and a striped sun-blindover the balcony formed by the roof of the portico. The quilted blindswere down because of the strong sun, but our ring was instantly answeredby a grave-looking footman, who showed me into a cosy library at the endof the hall.

  "I'll tell my master at once that you are here, sir," the man said. Andhe closed the door, leaving me alone.

  CHAPTER TWO.

  THE THIRD FINGER.

  The house was one of no mean order, and a glance at the rows of booksshowed them to be well chosen--evidently the valued treasures of astudious man. Upon the writing-table was an electric reading-lamp withgreen shade, and a fine, pale photograph of a handsome woman in a heavysilver frame. In the stationery rack upon the table the note-paper borean embossed cipher surmounted by a coronet.

  After a few moments the door re-opened, and there entered a very thin,pale-faced, slightly-built man of perhaps sixty, carefully dressed inclothes of rather antique cut. He threw out his chest in walking, andcarried himself with stiff, unbending hauteur. His dark eyes were smalland sharp, and his clean-shaven face rendered his aquiline features themore pronounced.

  "Good morning," he said, greeting me in a thin, squeaky voice. "I amvery glad my servant found you at home."

  "And I, too, am glad to be of service, if possible," I responded.

  He motioned me to be seated, at the same time taking a chair behind hiswriting-table. Was it, I wondered, by design or by accident that in theposition he had assumed his face remained in the deep shadow, while mycountenance was within the broad ray of sunlight that came in betweenthe blind and the window-sash? There was something curious in hisattitude, but what it was I could not determine.

  "I called you in to-day, doctor," he explained, resting his thin, almostwaxen hands upon the table, "not so much for medical advice as to have achat with you."

  "But the patient?" I observed. "Had I not better see her first, andchat afterwards?"

  "No," he responded. "It is necessary that we should first understandone another perfectly."

  I glanced at him, but his face was only a grey blotch in the deepshadow. Of its expression I could observe nothing. Who, I wondered,was this man?

  "Then the patient is better, I presume?"

  "Better, but still in a precarious condition," he replied, in a snappingvoice. Then, after a moment's pause, he added, in a more conciliatorytone, "I don't know, doctor, whether you will agree with me, but I havea theory that, just as every medical man and lawyer has his fee, so hasevery man his price!"

  "I scarcely follow you," I said, somewhat puzzled. "I mean that everyman, no matter what his station in life, is ready to perform servicesfor another, providing the sum is sufficient in payment."

  I smiled at his philosophy. "There is a good deal of truth in that," Iremarked; "but of course there are exceptions."

  "Are you one?" he inquired sharply, in a strange voice.

  I hesitated. His question was curious. I could not see his object insuch observations.

  "I ask you a plain question," he repeated. "Are you so rich as to bebeyond the necessity of money?"

  "No," I answered frankly. "I'm not rich."

  "Then you admit that, for a certain price, you would be willing toperform a service?" he said bluntly.

  "I don't admit anything of the kind," I laughed, not, however, without afeeling of indignation.

  "Well," he said after a few moments hesitation, during which time hispair of small black eyes were, I knew, fixed upon me, "I'll speak moreplainly. Would you object, for instance, to taking a fee of fivefigures today?"

  "A fee of five figures?" I repeated, puzzled. "I don't quite followyou."

  "Five figures equal to ten thousand pounds," he said slowly, in astrange voice.

  "A fee of five figures," I repeated, puzzled. "For what?"

  In an instant it flashed across my mind that the thin, grey-faced manbefore me was trying to suborn me to commit murder--that crime so easilycommitted by a doctor. The thought staggered me.

  "The service I require of you is not a very difficult one," he answered,bending across the table in his earnestness. "You are young--abachelor, I presume--and enthusiastic in your honourable calling. Wouldnot ten thousand pounds be of great use to you at this moment?"

  I admitted that it would. What could I not do with such a sum?

  Again I asked him the nature of the service he demanded, but he cleverlyevaded my inquiries.

  "My suggestion will, I fear, strike you as curious," he added. "But inthis matter there must be no hesitation on our part; it must beaccomplished to-day."

  "Then it is, I take it, a matter of life or death?"

  There was a brief silence, broken only by the low ticking of the marbleclock upon the mantelshelf.

  "Of death," he answered in a low, strained tone. "Of death, rather thanof life."

  I held my breath. My countenance must have undergone a change, and thisdid not escape his observant eyes, for he added--

  "Before we go further, I would ask you, doctor, to regard this interviewas strictly confidential."

  "It shall be entirely as you wish," I stammered.

  The atmosphere of the room seemed suddenly oppressive, my head was in awhirl, and I wanted to get away from the presence of my tempter.

  "Good," he said, apparently reassured. "Then we can advance a stepfurther. I observed just now that you were a bachelor, and you did notcontradict me."

  "I am a bachelor, and have no intention of marrying."

  "Not for ten thousand pounds?" he inquired.

  "I've never yet met a woman whom I could love sufficiently," I told himquite plainly.

  "But is your name so very valuable to you that you would hesitate tobestow it upon a woman for a single hour--even though you were a widowerbefore sunset?"

  "A widower before sunset?" I echoed. "You speak in enigmas. If youwere plainer in your words I might comprehend your meaning."

  "Briefly, my meaning is this," he said, in a firmer voice, afterpausing, as though to gauge my strength of character. "Upstairs in thishouse my daughter is ill--she is not confined to her bed, but she isnevertheless dying. Two doctors have attended her for several weeks,and to-day in consultation have pronounced her beyond hope of recovery.Before being struck down by disease, she was hopelessly in love with aman whom I believed to be worthless--a man whose name they told me wassynonymous with all that is evil in human nature. She was passionatelyfond of him, and her love very nearly resulted in a terrible tragedy.Through the weeks of her delirium she has constantly called his name.Her every thought has been of him; and now, in these her last moments, Iam filled with remorse that I did not endeavour to reclaim him and allowthem to marry. He is no longer in England, otherwise I would unitethem. The suggestion I have to make to you is that you should assumethat man's place and marry my daughter."

  "Marry her!" I gasped.

  "Yes. Not being in possession of all her faculties, she will,therefore, not distinguish between her true lover and yourself. Shewill believe herself married to him, and her last moments will berendered happy."

  I did not reply. The suggestion held me dumbfounded.

  "I know that the proposal is a very extraordinary one," he went on, hisvoice trembling in deep earnestness, "but I make it to you indesperation. By my own ill-advised action and interference, Beryl, myonly child, is dying, and I am determined, if possible, to bring peaceto her poor unbalanced mind in these the last hours of her existence.My remorse is bitter, God knows! It is little that I can do in the wayof atonement, save to convince her of my forgiveness."

  His face, as he bent forward to me at that moment, came, for the firsttime, within the broad bar of sunlight that fell between us, and I sawhow white and haggard it was. The countenance was no longer that of ahaughty man, but of one rend
ered desperate.

  "I fear that in this matter it is beyond my power to assist you," Isaid, stirring myself at last. Truth to tell, his proposal was sostaggering that I inclined to the belief that he himself was not quiteright in his mind. The curious light in his eyes strengthened thissuspicion.

  "You will not help me?" he cried starting up.

  "You will not assist in bringing happiness to my poor girl in her dyinghour?"

  "I will be no party to such a flagrant fraud as you propose," Iresponded quietly.

  "The sum insufficient--eh! Well, I'll double it. Let us say twentythousand."

  "And the marriage you suggest is, I presume, to be a mock one?"

  "A mock one? No, a real and binding one--entirely legal," he responded."A marriage in church."

  "Would not a mock one be just as effective in the mind of theunfortunate young lady?" I suggested.

  "No, there are reasons why a legal marriage should take place," heanswered distinctly.

  "And they are?"

  "Ah! upon that point I regret that I cannot satisfy you," he answered."Is not twenty thousand pounds sufficient to satisfy you, without askingquestions?"

  "But I cannot see how a legal marriage can take place," I queried."There are surely formalities to be observed."

  "Leave them all to me," he answered quickly. "Rest assured that I haveoverlooked no detail in this affair. A mock marriage would, of course,have been easy enough; but I intend that Beryl shall be legally wedded,and for the service rendered me by becoming her husband I am prepared topay you twenty thousand pounds the instant the ceremony is concluded."

  Then, unlocking a drawer in his writing-table, he drew forth a largebundle of notes secured by an elastic band, which he held towards me,saying--

  "These are yours if you care to accept my offer."

  I glanced at the thick square packet of crisp notes, and saw that eachwas for one hundred pounds. My eyes wandered to the Tempter's face.The look I saw there startled me. Was he actually the devil in humanguise?

  He noticed the quick start I gave, and instantly his features relaxedinto a smile.

  "I cannot see what possible ground you can have for scruples," he said."To deceive a dying girl in order to render her last moments happy issurely admissible. Come, render me this trifling service."

  And thus he persuaded and cajoled me, tempting me with the money in hishand to sell my name. Reader, place yourself in my position for amoment. I might, I reflected, slave through all my life, and neverbecome possessed of such a sum. I was not avaricious, far from it; yetwith twenty thousand pounds I could gain the zenith of my ambition, andlead the quiet, even life that had so long been my ideal. I strove toshut my ears to the persuasive words of the Tempter, but could not. Theservice was not a very great one, after all. The woman who was to be mywife was dying. In a few hours, at most, I should be free again, andour contract would remain for ever a secret.

  The sight of that money--money with a curse upon it, money that, had Iknown the truth, I would have flung into the grate and burned ratherthan suffer its contact with my hand--decided me. Reader, can youwonder at it? I was desperately in want of money, and, throwing mynatural caution and discretion to the winds, I yielded. Yes, I yielded.

  The Tempter drew a distinct sigh of relief. His sinister face, so thinthat I could trace the bones beneath the white, tightly-stretched skin,grinned in satisfaction, for he was now confident of his power over me.He had me irretrievably in his toils. He tossed the notes carelesslyback into the drawer and locked it with the key upon his chain, then,glancing at the clock and rising, said--

  "We must lose no time. All is prepared. Come with me."

  My heart at that instant beat so loudly that its pulsations wereaudible. I was to sacrifice myself and wed an unknown bride in order togain that packet of banknotes. Mine was indeed a strange position, but,held beneath the spell of this man's presence, I obeyed him and followedhim, curious to see the face of the woman to whom I was to give my name.

  Together we went out into the hall where stood the man-servant who hadadmitted me.

  "Is everything ready, Davies?" his master inquired. "Everything, sir.The carriage is at the door."

  "I would ask of you one favour," the Tempter said, in a low voice; "donot express any surprise. All will be afterwards explained."

  From the inner pocket of his frock-coat he produced a pair of white kidgloves, which he handed me, observing, with a smile--

  "They are large for you, I fear; but that will not much matter. Youwill meet my daughter at the church; it looks better."

  Then, as I commenced putting on the gloves, we went out together, andentered the smart brougham awaiting us. All preparations had evidentlybeen made for my marriage.

  Our drive was not a long one; but so bewildered was I by my singularsituation, that I took little notice of the direction in which we weretravelling. Indeed, I was utterly unfamiliar with that part of London,and I only know that we crossed Sloane Street, and, after traversing anumber of back streets, suddenly stopped before a church standing in asmall cul-de-sac.

  The strip of faded red baize upon the steps showed that we wereexpected; but the church was empty save for a wheezy, unshaken oldverger, who, greeting us, preceded us to a pew in front.

  Scarcely had we seated ourselves, conversing in whispers, when we hearda second carriage stop; and, turning, I saw in the entrance thesilhouette of my unknown bride in her white satin gown. She advanced upthe aisle leaning heavily upon the arm of a smartly-dressed man, whowore a monocle with foppish air. Her progress was slow--due, no doubt,to extreme weakness. Her veil was handsome, but so thick that, in thedim gloom of the church, I was quite unable to distinguish her features.

  As she passed where I sat, silent, anxious, and wondering, the Tempterprompted me, and I rose and took my place beside her, while at the samemoment the officiating clergyman himself appeared from the vestry. Hisface was red and pimply, showing him to be of intemperate habits; but athis order I took my unknown companion's slim, soft hand in mine, and thescent of the orange blossom in her corsage filled my nostrils. I stoodlike a man in a dream.

  At that instant the Tempter bent tenderly to her, saying--

  "Beryl, my child, this is your wedding day. You are to be married tothe man you love. Listen!" Then in a nasal tone, which sounded weirdlyin the silence of the place, the clergyman began to drone the firstwords of the Marriage Service, "Dearly beloved, we are gatheredtogether," until he came to the first question to which I responded in avoice which sounded strange and cavernous.

  I was selling myself for twenty thousand pounds. The thought caused mea slight twinge of conscience. Turning to the woman at my side, heasked--

  "Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together afterGod's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him,and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health;and, forsaking all other, keep ye only unto him as long as ye both shalllive?"

  A silence fell, deep and complete.

  Two ordinary-looking men, who had entered the church to serve aswitnesses, exchanged glances. Then a slight sound escaped my unknownbride, like a low sigh, and we could just distinguish the reply--

  "I will."

  The remainder of the service was gabbled through. A ring which theTempter had slipped into my hand I placed upon her finger, and tenminutes later I had signed the register, and was the husband of a womanupon whose face I had never looked.

  The name which she signed with mine was "Beryl Wynd"; beyond that I knewnothing. Utterly bewildered at my position, I sat beside my bride onthe drive back, but she preserved silence, and I exchanged no word withher. She shuddered once, as though cold. Her father accompanied us,keeping up a lively conversation during the whole distance.

  Arrived at the house, the woman who had sought me at Rowan Road cameforward to meet my bride, and at once accompanied her upstairs, while weentered the dining-room. The two witne
sses, who had followed in thesecond carriage, quickly joined us. The butler Davies opened champagne,and my health, with that of the bride, was drunk in solemn silence. Theman with the monocle was absent. Truly my nuptial feast was a strangeone.

  A few minutes later, however, I was again alone in the library with theTempter, whose eyes had grown brighter, and whose face had assumed aneven more demoniacal expression. The door was closed, the silenceunbroken.

  "So far all has been perfectly satisfactory," he said, halting upon thehearthrug suddenly and facing me. "There is, however, still onecondition to be fulfilled, before I place the money in your hands."

  "And what is that?" I inquired.

  "That your wife must die before sunset," he answered, in a hoarse,earnest whisper. "She must die--you understand! It is now half-pasttwelve."

  "What?" I cried, starting forward. "You would bribe me to murder yourown daughter?"

  He shrugged his thin shoulders, made an impatient movement, his smalleyes glittered, and in a cold hard voice, he exclaimed--

  "I said that it is imperative she should die before the money is yours--that is all."

  CHAPTER THREE.

  CONCERNING A COMPACT.

  "Then you make murder one of the conditions of payment?" I said, facinghim.

  "I have only said she must die before sunset," he answered. "She cannotlive, in any case, longer than a few hours. It is easy