The Bond of Black

by William Le Queux

showed firmdetermination and devilish cunning. You may rest assured that she willnot escape."

  She started. Her face was blanched to the lips, and she sat before merigid, open-mouthed, speechless.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

  ROCKS AMONG PEBBLES.

  Her attitude convinced me of her guilt, yet what conclusive proof had I?None--absolutely none.

  "Your photograph was found in his rooms. I found it myself," I said.

  "Does that prove that I am untruthful?" she inquired, raising hereyebrows quickly.

  I recollected the glove-button. But the gloves she wore were new ones,and all the buttons were intact.

  There was a ring of truth in her denials, yet I was unconvinced. I sawin her answers careful evasion of my questions. First, I myself hadfound poor Roddy dead, and that he had committed suicide six monthsbefore seemed to me but a silly tale. Secondly, her strange actionswere suspicious. Thirdly, her curious association with Muriel seemedcoupled with the latter's disappearance, and her clandestine visit toJack Yelverton intensified the mystery in its every detail.

  "Of course, the mere finding of a photograph is no proof that you hadmet Roddy for six months," I admitted, recollecting Ash's statement thathe had never seen her visit his master.

  "Then why suspect me?" she asked, in a tone of reproach.

  "I have expressed no suspicion," I said, as calmly as I could. "Mysurprise and doubt are surely pardonable under these curiouscircumstances--are they not?"

  "Certainly!" she responded. "Nevertheless during our acquaintance Ihave, you must admit, been as open with you as I have dared. Youprofessed your love for me," she went on ruthlessly, "but I urged you tohesitate. Was I not frank with you when I told you plainly that wecould never be lovers?"

  I nodded in the affirmative, and sighed when I recollected my lostMuriel.

  "Then why do you charge me with deception?" she asked, stretching outher tiny foot neat in its suede shoe, and contemplating it. She seemednervous and hasty, yet determined to get to the bottom of my suspicionsand so ascertain the depth of my knowledge of the truth.

  Detecting this, I resolved to act with discretion and diplomacy. Onlyby the exercise of consummate tact could I solve this enigma.

  "Deception!" I said. "You must admit that you are deceiving me byconcealing the truth of who and what you are!"

  "That is scarcely a polite speech," she observed, toying with thelorgnette suspended from her neck by a long chain of gold withturquoises set at intervals. "What do you suspect me to be?" and shelaughed lightly.

  "According to your own confession," I responded, "you are possessed ofan influence which is baneful; you are a worker of mysterious evil; awoman whose contact is as venom, whose touch is blasting as fire!"

  "No! no!" she cried, starting up wildly and putting out her hands inimploring attitude. "I have done you no wrong--I swear I have not!Spare me your reproaches. A guilt is upon me--a terrible guilt, Iadmit--but I have at least spared you. I warned you in time, and youescaped!"

  "Then you are guilty!" I cried quickly, half-surprised at her suddenconfession. But, turning her eyes upon me as she stood, she answered--

  "Yes, I am guilty of a deadly sin--a sin that is terrible, awful, andunforgivable before God--yet, it is not what you suspect. I swear I hadno hand in the death of your friend."

  "But you can reveal the truth to me!" I cried. "You shall tell me!" Iadded fiercely, as I approached her.

  "No," she panted, drawing back, "it is impossible. I--I cannot."

  She was confused, pale and flushed by turns, and terribly agitated. Isaw by her attitude she was not speaking the truth. I was convincedthat, even then, she lied to me. Because of that I grew furious.

  "If you were innocent you would not fear to explain all you know," Icried in anger. "In every detail you attempt to baffle me, but youshall do so no longer."

  She smiled a strange, tantalising smile, and leaning against the edge ofthe table assumed an easy attitude.

  "Is it not the truth that you are a mystery to every one?" I went onheedlessly, at that instant recollecting the conversation betweenherself and the stranger in Hyde Park. "Is it not the truth that yourcharacter is such that, if the people of London knew its true estimate,you would be mobbed and torn limb from limb?"

  She started, glaring at me quickly in fear.

  "This denunciation is very amusing," she said, with a forced laugh.

  "Amusing!" I cried. "I have not forgotten how your presence here hadthe effect of reducing sacred objects to ashes; I have not forgottenyour own confession to me that you were a worker of iniquity, a womanendowed with an irresistible devastating force--the force of hellitself!"

  "And even though I confessed to you, you now charge me with deception,"she answered in a strained tone. "You offered me your love, but I wasself-denying, and urged you to forget me and love Muriel Moore, who wasas pure and upright as I am wanton and sinful. Did you take my advice?"

  "Yes," I answered, a trifle more calmly. "But she is now lost to me."

  "I am aware of that," she responded. "You tarried too long ere youdeclared your affection."

  "Then you know her whereabouts?" I cried eagerly. "Tell me."

  But she shook her head, answering--

  "No, we are no longer friends after this denunciation you have to-dayuttered. You suspect me of being a murderess; therefore I leave you toassist yourself."

  "Do you actually know where she is and refuse to tell me?" I cried.

  "Certainly," she responded. "There is no reason why her happinessshould be again disturbed."

  In an instant a fierce vengeance swept through my brain. This woman wasof the flesh, for she stood there before me, her beauty heightened bythe flush that had risen to her cheeks, her pale lips quivering with anuncontrollable anxiety which had taken possession of her, yet she wasmore cruel, more relentless, more ingenious in the working of evil, moreresistless and invincible in her diabolical power, than any other personon the earth. All the strength, all the influence, all the ruling powerpossessed by Satan himself was centred within her.

  I looked at the evil light in her eyes. She was, indeed, theincarnation of the Evil One.

  "You hold the secret of Muriel's hiding-place and refuse to tell me; youopenly defy me; therefore I am at liberty to act in whatever mannerpleases me--am I not?"

  "Certainly," she answered, slowly twisting her rings around her finger.

  "Then listen," I said. "You told me once that you could not love mebecause you loved another. You spoke the truth, for since then thatfact has been proved. Some time ago a man, honest and upright, who onaccount of his religious convictions had resolved to give himself up tolabour in the interests of the poor, accepted a curacy in a poor Londonparish. He worked there, striving night and day, denying himself restand the comforts he could well afford in order that the sufferings of afew might be alleviated. Into foul dens where people slept on mouldymattresses upon the floor, where ofttimes a paraffin lamp was placed inthe empty grate in place of a fire, and where hunger and dirt breddisease, this man penetrated and distributed food and money, endearinghimself to those dregs of humanity, often the scum of the gaols, by hisuntiring efforts, his justice, and his kindness of heart. Men who wereknown to the police as desperate characters welcomed him and weretractable enough beneath his influence. He never sought to cramreligion down their throats, for he knew that at first they would havenone of it. So he went to work to first gain their hearts, andsucceeded so completely that many a confession of crime was in thesilence of those bare rooms whispered into his ear by one who wasrepentant."

  I paused and glanced at her. Her arms had fallen to her sides; she wasstanding motionless as a statue.

  "While pursuing this good work--work undertaken without any thought ofthe laudation of his fellow-men--there came into that man's life awoman. She came to tempt him from the path of righteousness, to dazzlehis eyes with her beauty, and to absorb his love. He saw himse
lf on theverge of a fatal fascination, an entrancement which would inevitablycause him to break his vow to God; and relinquishing his work for atime, he fled from her secretly. He wished to avoid her; for althoughhe loved her, he knew that she had been sent into his life by theTempter to rend and destroy him, for he, alas! knew too well that theevil influences in the world are far more potent than the good, and thatthe godly are as rocks among the pebbles of the sea."

  I paused. Again our eyes met.

  "And the rest?" she asked hoarsely, in a low voice.

  "You know the rest, Aline," I said. "You know that the name of that manwas John Yelverton, and that the woman of evil was yourself, AlineCloud.