The Bond of Black
Page 25
didn't runafter me. It was I who, attracted by her beauty, showed her by myactions that I loved her. From the first it was my own fault entirely.I have only myself to reproach."
"But you cannot actually reproach yourself, if you are still fond ofher."
"Fond of her? I adore her!" he cried. "I only wish I did not. Have Inot told you how I've fought against this feeling? Yet what's the useof striving against the deepest and most overwhelming passion in theworld?"
"Could you not be happy with her, and yet live as upright, honest, andholy a life as you now do?" I suggested. "Does not the holy proverbsay that a man who takes a wife obtains favour with the Lord?"
"Yes," he answered. "But as I have explained, it is easier for the manto devote himself to religious work when he is single than when he has awife to occupy his thoughts. He must neglect the one or the other. Ofthat I am convinced. Besides, I have vowed to God to serve Him alone,and with His assistance I will do so. I will!" and his hands clenchedthemselves in the fierceness of his words.
Next day I drove my sister into Stamford, and having put up at thatwell-known old hostelry, the George, she went to do some shopping whileI sauntered forth determined to make what inquiries I could of Muriel'swhereabouts. All her relatives were in ignorance. One of them, anaunt, had received a brief note saying that she had left MadameGabrielle's, and would send her new address. But she had not done so.From place to place I went, ever with the same question upon my lips,but ever receiving a similar reply. Muriel was utterly lost to all, asto me.
About six o'clock we set out to drive home, but the dull day hadculminated in wet, and our journey was in the teeth of a tempestuouswind which drove the rain full into our faces, and made us both veryuncomfortable. We had passed Worthorpe, and were halfway towards CollyWeston, on the high road to Duddington, when we approached a femalefigure in a black mackintosh cape, with difficulty holding her umbrellain the boisterous wind. She was walking towards Stamford, and my sistercatching sight of her as we rapidly approached, said--
"I hope that woman is enjoying it."
It was already half dark, and the road was ankle-deep in mud, yet shestrode on determinedly, heedless of the rough weather, and bent uponreaching the town before night fell entirely. At that part of the roadit is flat and open--straight across a highway cut years ago through theRockingham forest, which covered that part of the country, but the landis now divested of trees and cultivated.
Her face was set straight in the direction of Stamford, and with herumbrella held down firmly she did not notice our approach until just aswe passed and our high wheels spattered her with mud. She drew herumbrella aside in surprise and looked up.
In an instant we had left her behind, but in that brief space of time Irecognised her.
There could be no mistaking that face. It was a countenance which, onceseen, rivetted itself upon the memory for ever because of its wondrousloveliness.
It was Aline Cloud.
Quickly I glanced back, but it was evident that with my hat drawn downover my eyes, and my collar turned up I was sufficiently disguised toescape recognition. She did not turn, but trudged on through the mudtowards the town far across the valley, where the distant lights werealready beginning to glimmer.
I was utterly mystified; and the more so when, a quarter of an hourlater, just as we turned the sharp corner to descend the hill intoDuddington, we overtook and wished good evening to Jack Yelverton, whowas striding along in our direction.
He started suddenly, laughed nervously when I hailed him, and then kepton his way.
Had he walked from Stamford, I wondered.
But next second the suspicion grew upon me that he had kept a secretappointment somewhere on that bleak open road, and that the person hehad met was Aline, the Woman of Evil.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
A STRANGE ASSERTION.
The look of combined alarm and surprise which Jack's face betrayed wassufficient to convince me of the truth. Aline was the woman from whomhe had fled; and she had visited him secretly. She had, it wasapparent, discovered his whereabouts, and rather than excite gossip bycoming to call upon him in the village, had met him clandestinely atsome point on the high road halfway between Stamford and Duddington.
Then I reflected upon all that he had told me on the previous night; ofhow fondly he loved her, and of the curious dread in which he held her.Were not my own experiences more extraordinary than those of mortal man?Were not the changes wrought in my rooms by her influence little shortof miraculous?
Aline Cloud, although the most beautiful woman I had ever seen,possessed a potency for the working of evil that was appalling. When Ithought of it I shuddered.
Perhaps Jack Yelverton had discovered this. Perhaps he, a clergyman, aworker in the holy cause, had found out what evil influences emanatedfrom her, and on that account had held aloof. He had told me plainlythat he had come there to escape her. Did not that prove that he haddiscovered, what I, too, had found out, that her influence was alluring,that in her hand she held the golden apple?
He had been entranced by her beauty, but fortunately her witchery hadnot been sufficient to allure him to his ruin. I remembered when, in amoment of madness, I had declared my love to her, how she had told meshe could not reciprocate it. What more likely then, that she lovedJack Yelverton?
That night I sat alone thinking it all over in the small, old-fashionedsitting-room which had been my own den before I had left to live inLondon. What, perhaps, puzzled me most of all was the fact that Murielpossessed such intimate knowledge of Aline's actions and of my briefperiod of madness; and somehow I could not get rid of a vague feelingthat she was aware of the truth concerning poor Roddy's sad end.
Oppressed by the knowledge of a terrible truth which he had sworn not todivulge, and hiding from a woman whom he feared, Jack Yelverton was inas strange a position as myself; therefore next day I called upon him togive him an opportunity of telling me how this woman had at lastdiscovered him.
He, however, said nothing; and when I incidentally expressed myintention of returning to London, and a hope that his whereabouts wouldstill remain a secret from the person whom he did not wish to meet, hemerely smiled sadly, saying--
"Yes. I hope she won't discover me. If she does--well, I must moveagain. Should I disappear suddenly you will know the cause, oldfellow."
These words caused me to doubt the truth of my surmise. His manner wasas though he had not kept the appointment, as I had suspected, andindeed I had no absolute knowledge that Aline and this woman whom heheld in fear were one and the same person. Thus I left him with my mindin a state of indecision and bewilderment.
I knew not what to think.
Through the close, stifling days of July and August I remained in Londonwith but one object, namely, that of finding Muriel. She haddisappeared completely, and with some object; for she had not onlyhidden herself from me, but also from her nearest relatives.
Through those hot, dusty days, which, in former years, I had spent atTixover, I pursued my inquiries in the various drapery establishments atHolloway, Peckham, Brixton, Kensington, and other shopping centres, butwith no result. She had not written to any of the "young ladies" atMadame Gabrielle's, and none knew her whereabouts.
Yet the unexpected always happens. Just as I was about to give up mysearch and return to Tixover to get fresh air, for August and Septemberare pleasant months in the Midlands, I chanced one afternoon to becrossing Ludgate Circus, from Ludgate Hill to Fleet Street, when Isuddenly overtook a figure that seemed familiar.
I started, drew back in hesitation for a moment, and then approached andraised my hat.
It was Aline Cloud.
"You!" she gasped, paling slightly as she recognised me.
"Yes," I replied. "But I'm not so very formidable, am I?"
"No," she laughed, in an instant recovering her self-possession as shetook my hand. "Only you startled me."
I remarked upon the lapse of time since we had me
t, and in response sheanswered--
"Yes. I've been away."
I recollected her visit to Stamford, but said nothing, resolving tomention it later. It was about four o'clock, and in order to chat toher I invited her to take tea. At first she was unwilling, making acouple of vague excuses and contradicting herself in her confusion; butas I hailed a cab and it drew up to the kerb she saw that all furthereffort to avoid me was unavailing, and accompanied me.
During the first few moments of our meeting she had apparently beeninclined to treat me with some disdain, but by the time we arrived at mychambers she was laughing lightly, as though the encounter gave hergratification.
She was dressed with more style and taste than before. Her costume, ofsome thin, bluish-grey stuff, was made in a style which few Londondressmakers could achieve, and its ornamentation, although daring, wasnevertheless extremely tasteful, and suited her great beauty