In White Raiment

by William Le Queux

What would he say, I wonder, if he knew that youand I frivol so much together?"

  "What right has he to say anything regarding my actions? I am quitefree."

  "Then he is not your lover?" I inquired in deep earnestness. "Tell methe truth."

  "Of course not. We have danced together and walked together, just asyou and I have done; but as for love--why, the thing is absurd."

  "You do not love him?" I asked.

  "Certainly not," she laughed. Then she added, "I never love. That iswhy I am not like other women."

  "Every woman denies the tender passion," I said, smiling.

  "Well, I only tell you the truth," she responded, with a slight sigh."If every woman must love at one time in her life, there must of coursebe some exceptions. I am one of them."

  "Ah, you do yourself an injustice?" I declared. "Every woman has aheart."

  She was silent. Then, in a hard strained voice, she answered--

  "True; but mine is like stone."

  "Why? What has hardened it?"

  "Ah, no!" she cried quickly. "You are always, trying to learn mysecret, but I can never tell you--never! Let us go in." And, withoutanother word, she passed through the French windows into thebilliard-room, where the usual game of pool was in progress and themerry chatter was general.

  Like that of her cousin, her nature was a complex one. The more Istrove to understand her the more utterly hopeless the analysis became.I loved her--nay, in all the world there was but one woman for my eyes.Superb in beauty and in grace, she was incomparable--perfect.

  That night, when the household was at rest, I still sat smoking in myroom, puzzled over the curious recurrence of the sensation which seizedall who entered the lethal chamber in London. The turret-clock over thestables had chimed half-past one, yet I felt in no mood to turn in. Thewriting of that hasty note by Beryl was an incident which I hadforgotten, but which now came back to me. What if I could discover itsnature? She had written it upon the blotting-pad in Sir Henry's study,and the thought occurred to me that I might, perhaps, discover theimpression there.

  With that object I placed a box of matches in my pocket, switched off mylight, and crept in the darkness noiselessly along the corridor. Thecarpeting was thick, and, being without slippers, I stole along withouta sound past the door of Beryl's room, and down the great oakenstaircase into the hall.

  I had crossed the latter, and had my hand upon the green baize doorwhich kept out the draught of the corridors, and was about to open it,when of a sudden my quick ear caught a sound. In an instant I halted,straining my ears to listen. In the stillness of the night, andespecially in the darkness, every sound becomes exaggerated anddistorted. I stood there not daring to breathe.

  Through the great high windows of the hall, filled with diamond paneslike the windows of an ancient church, the faint starlight struggled sothat the opposite side of the place was quite light. I glanced aroundat the shining armour standing weird in the half-light, with visors downand pikes in hand--a row of steel-clad warriors of the days gone by whenAtworth was a stronghold. They looked a ghostly lot, and quite unnervedme.

  But, as I listened, the suspicious sound again greeted my quick ear, andI heard in the door on the opposite side of the hall, straight beforeme, a key slowly turn. Even in that dead silence it made but littlenoise; the lock had evidently been well oiled.

  Then cautiously the door gradually opened, and I was no longer alone.The dark figure of a woman advanced, treading so silently that sheseemed to walk on air. She came straight towards the spot where I stoodwatching in the darkness, and I saw that she was dressed in black.

  As she reached the centre of the hall the pale light fell upon her face,and, although uncertain, it was sufficient to reveal to me the truth; Iwas face to face with the woman who had been described by Beryl--themysterious La Gioia!

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

  THE WOMAN IN BLACK.

  The encounter was unexpected and startling. I stood glaring at the darkfigure, unable for the moment to move. The dark face, with its keenblack eyes, fascinated me; there was a look of evil there. Whatbusiness could bring her there, stealthily, like a thief?

  She had halted in the centre of the hall, and seemed to be examiningsome object upon the Indian table, whereon tea was always served in theafternoon. The light was just sufficient to reveal that she heldsomething small and white in her hand, but what it was I was unable todistinguish.

  The "partial aboulia," as we doctors term the lack of ability to performintentional acts, which had seized me on discovering the intruder,quickly gave place to an endeavour to conceal myself; and this Iaccomplished by crouching down behind a large square pedestal whereonstood a giant palm. As I watched I saw her make a tour of the place,examining every object as though in search of something. Then, withdeliberation, she passed through the door by which I had entered, andcrept noiselessly up the stairs.

  She was ascending to the room of the woman who feared her! I stolealong after her. It was an adventurous piece of spying, for theslightest creak of the stairs would betray my presence, and oaken stairscreak horribly.

  At last I gained the top, and, as I stood, watched her steal noiselesslyalong the corridor, past Beryl's room, to my own room. She tried thedoor cautiously, opened it, and entered. As though in disappointmentthat I was not there she quickly came forth, stood in hesitationlistening in the corridor, and then, creeping back, stopped beforeBeryl's room. Evidently, she was well acquainted with the geography ofthe house, and knew who occupied the various chambers.

  In the corridor it was much lighter than in the hall, and, as she cameto a standstill before Beryl's door, I was quite close to her, crouchingon the dark stair, my head only on a level with the floor of thecorridor. It was then I made a discovery which was somewhat puzzling:while her right hand was free, on the left she wore a black glove.

  She bent at the door, peered into the keyhole, and, having listened inorder to satisfy herself that Beryl was asleep, slowly turned the handleto try if it were locked.

  Would she enter? I stood watching her actions with bated breath. Thatshe was there with evil intent was absolutely certain.

  The lock yielded, and, pushing open the door very slowly, she stole inon tiptoe, closing it after her.

  What should I do? My love was in deadly peril--of that I felt certain.She had defied the Major, and the revenge of that all-powerful butunknown person, La Gioia, was upon her. She was alone--asleep, and ather mercy!

  To dash in and seize her would be to alarm the house and, perhaps,compromise my loved one. Yet what could I do to save her? I had seenby the evil glint in her eyes that she was there with fell intent, and Iknew by the cautious manner in which she moved, without hesitation orfear, that she was no amateur at such nocturnal visits. Indeed, shemoved like a dark shadow, gliding without the slightest noise until onemight almost have believed her to be some supernatural visitant.

  It was my duty, however, to protect my love, no matter at what cost. Ihad come there for that purpose, having a distinct foreboding that somedeadly peril surrounded her; therefore, now was my time to act, to meetthat woman face to face and to demand an explanation.

  Upon this decision I acted without further delay, for creeping asnoiselessly as she had done, I reached the door and slowly turned thehandle in order to burst in unexpectedly upon her. The handle turned,but the door would not open; she had locked it behind her.

  I bent to the keyhole. All was dark within. There was no sound. Thenoise I had made by trying the door had, no doubt, alarmed her, and shewas standing within preparing to make a sudden dash for liberty.

  I drew myself up at the door prepared. Those moments were full ofexcitement. I held my breath, straining my ears to listen. There wasno sound. The silence was like that of the grave.

  My love was within that room, and her enemy was at her side!

  Should I arouse the household? Again I hesitated, fearing lest I shouldcompromise Beryl. Of a s
udden, however, I recollected that in manyhouses the doors of the bedrooms frequently bear similar locks, andfinding that the key had been removed by the intruder--possibly for thepurpose of watching my movements from the inside--it occurred to me thatI might try the key of my own room.

  Yet if I left my post she might escape; she was evidently watching heropportunity.

  Fully ten minutes passed, each second ticked out loudly by the longgrandfather's clock at the end of the corridor, until I could stand thetension no longer, and, receding slowly backwards, with my eyes stillupon the door, ready for La Gioia's dash for liberty, I reached my ownroom and secured the key.

  Then, slipping back again, I placed the key swiftly in the lock,heedless of the noise it made, and turned it. The lock yielded, and asecond later I stood within the room.

  An involuntary cry of amazement escaped me, and I drew back. I dashedtowards the bed, but it had not been slept in. The