Iwill speak. But before you do this, before you advance one step furtherupon the dangerous course you are now pursuing, remember that slander isan offence against the law; remember that in such evidence as must begiven in an assize court certain persons must be seriously compromised,and do not forget that the very weapon by which I shall defend my ownhonour will be one that must prove disastrous to yourself. I have saidenough. Go!"
Markwick was amazed at this unexpected outburst. He, like myself, hadapparently expected Jack to confess to the crime of which we bothsuspected him, but by this firm declaration of innocence it almostseemed as though we were both mistaken. Yet in that brief moment Iremembered his refusal to allow me to enter the room in which he hadundoubtedly concealed the body. I reflected upon the many suspicionsthat had been aroused within me. No! I was still convinced of hisguilt, notwithstanding his denial. The fact seemed apparent that hepossessed a secret of Markwick's, and felt secure because he knew thatthis man dare not risk the dire consequences of its revelation.
"Then am I to understand that you absolutely defy us?" asked themysterious friend of Sybil.
"Us?" echoed Bethune indignantly. "By that word you mean Lady Fyneshadeand yourself. Yes, I defy you both! Act if you dare; but I warn youthe peril will be yours."
"Very well," the man answered, bowing haughtily with a coolness that wasastounding. "Defiance is of little avail in a criminal's cell."
Jack placed his hand upon the bell and rang it violently.
"I have endeavoured to save the honour of more than one person in thisaffair, but if you wish for exposure you can, of course, make known manyugly facts," he said.
"But you declare emphatically you are innocent," Markwick said hastily.
"Neither you nor Ridgeway have alleged any specific charge against me,"he answered. "If any crime is alleged to have been committed by me,then after my arrest it will be time for me to prepare my defence.Until then I shall remain silent."
"And the day is not far distant when you will be compelled to speak,"the other said in a tone of impatience and annoyance, while at thatmoment my father's man appeared in answer to Jack's summons.
"No further discussion is necessary," my friend said in a tone morequiet than before. "I decline to enter into details." Then, turning tothe servant, he said:
"Show this gentleman out."
Markwick uttered not a word. Biting his lip viciously, he glancedthreateningly from my guest to myself, drew a deep breath, and turningon his heel followed the man out, and a few moments later passed belowthe window and disappeared down the drive.
The interview had been an extraordinary one. Markwick, who had withsuch well-feigned ignorance declared himself unacquainted with me,possessed a most remarkable personality. The mystery that surroundedhim was as impenetrable as that which had enveloped Sybil, but I wascompelled to admit within myself that I shared his suspicion as toBethune's guilt. Yet my friend's open defiance was absolutelybewildering. He had engaged his enemy with his own weapons, and for thepresent, at any rate, had vanquished him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
A REVELATION AND ITS PRICE.
No word was exchanged between Jack and myself regarding the interviewwith Markwick. It was a subject we both avoided, and, as he was happywith Dora, I hesitated to inquire into the antecedents of the mysteriousindividual who had repudiated all knowledge of me with such consummateimpudence. Among my letters one morning a week later, however, I founda note from Mabel dated from her town house, asking me to run up andcall upon her at once, and requesting me to keep the fact a strictsecret. "I want to consult you," she wrote, "about a matter thatclosely concerns yourself, therefore do not fail to come. I shall be athome to you at any time. Do not mention the matter to either Jack orDora."
During my ride with our two visitors I pondered over this summons, whichwas rather extraordinary in view of our last interview, and at lengthresolved to take the mid-day train to town.
Soon after five o'clock that evening I was ushered into the Fyneshadedrawing-room, a great handsome apartment resplendent with gilt furnitureand hangings of peacock-blue silk, where I found Mabel alone, seated ona low chair before the fire reading a novel.
"Ah! I received your wire," she exclaimed, casting her book aside, andrising quickly to meet me. "It is awfully good of you to come."
She looked very handsome in a wondrous tea-gown of silk and chiffon, andas I sat down opposite her and she handed me a cup, I reflected that thejournalistic chroniclers were not far wrong in designating her "one ofthe prettiest women in London."
"On the last occasion we met, on the night of the ball at Blatherwycke,you uttered some rather bitter personalities, Stuart," she commenced,resting her elbows on her knees and her chin upon her palms as shecrouched by the fire. The evening was chilly, and when I had shaken herhand I noticed how icy it seemed. "I've been thinking over your words,"she added after a short pause.
"Well, I only said what I thought," I answered. "I'm often accused ofabruptness."
"Yes, but it was not to scold you that I asked you to call," she wenton. "The fact is I'm in a terrible difficulty," and she hesitated as ifhalf fearing to admit the truth.
"Of what nature?" I asked.
"Fyneshade has left me!" she answered suddenly, in a strangehalf-whisper.
"Left you!" I cried. "Why, whatever do you mean?"
"I mean that I have acted foolishly, and that he has left this housewith a declaration upon his lips that while I inhabit it he will neveragain cross its threshold. Today, I have had a letter from hissolicitors suggesting that I should have an interview with them for thepurpose of coming to some financial arrangement. He offers me FyneshadeHall for the remainder of my life."
"Where is he?"
"In Paris, I believe."
"And the cause of this disagreement? Tell me."
"No. For the present I must say nothing. It will get into the paperssoon enough, I expect, for the public gaze is as acute upon afashionable woman as upon a prime minister in these days of scurrilousjournalism and irresponsible personal paragraphs," she answered rathersadly.
I felt sorry for her, but I knew that the open manner in which she hadcarried on flirtation had been a public scandal, and after all I was notreally surprised that at last Fyneshade should resolve to end it.
"When did he leave?" I inquired.
"Four days ago. I have not been out since, and am at my wits' ends howto act so as to allay any suspicions of the servants. He took his valetwith him."
"But why make me your confidant?"
"Because I want you, if you will, to render me one small service," sheanswered with deep earnestness. Then after a pause, during which timeshe took down a feather hand-screen and held it between her face and thefire, she said: "I have already heard that Jack and Dora are togetheragain, and--"
"And you desire to part them," I hazarded seriously. "No, I think youmisjudge me," she answered with a winning smile. "I am merely anxiousthat my sister should not make a disastrous marriage."
"Then you think marriage with Bethune would prove disastrous?"
"Unfortunately, yes," she answered, sighing. "Already I know whattranspired at the interview between Jack and Francis Markwick on the dayof the former's arrival at Wadenhoe."
"You have again seen your mysterious friend, I suppose, and he has toldyou everything, eh?"
"Yes, and further, let me confess that it was owing to this interviewthat Fyneshade, who has suddenly become outrageously jealous, tookumbrage, and went away in a passion."
"I should have thought," I said, "that the narrow escape you had ofdetection in the shrubbery at Blatherwycke ought to have already servedas warning."
"Ah! That is the matter upon which I want especially to consult you,"she said suddenly. "Markwick has related to me how you told him of yourpresence in the shrubbery on that night. It is evident also thatFyneshade suspected that I met someone there clandestinely, and if thetruth comes out and our conversation
repeated, you must recognise howvery seriously I may be compromised."
I nodded, and slowly sipped my tea.
"Now," she continued in an earnest, appealing tone. "You, Stuart, havealways been my friend; if you choose you can shield me. Before long youmay be cross-examined upon that very incident, but what is there toprevent you from saying that it was you yourself and not Markwick whowas sitting with me?"
"You ask me to lie in order to save you?" I exclaimed severely.
"Well, to put it very plainly, it amounts to that."
"But who will cross-examine me? In what form do you dread
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