The Knave of Diamonds

by Ethel M. Dell

  CHAPTER XVI

  THE MASQUERADE

  The brothers were standing together on the steps when Anne alighted fromthe car, and her first thought as she moved towards them was of theirutter dissimilarity. They might have been men of different nationalities,so essentially unlike each other were they in every detail. And yet shefelt for both that ready friendship that springs from warmest gratitude.

  Nap kept her hand a moment in his grasp while he looked at her with thatbold stare of his that she had never yet desired to avoid. On theoccasion of her last visit to Baronmead they had not met. She wondered ifhe were about to upbraid her for neglecting her friends, but he saidnothing whatever, leaving it to Lucas to inquire after her health whilehe stood by and watched her with those dusky, intent eyes of his thatseemed to miss nothing.

  "I am quite strong again, thank you," she said in answer to her host'skindly questioning. "And you, Mr. Errol?"

  "I am getting strong too," he smiled. "I am almost equal to runningalone; but doubtless you are past that stage. Slow and sure has been mymotto for some years now."

  "It is a very good one," said Anne, in that gentle voice of hers that waslike the voice of a girl.

  He heard the sympathy in it, and his eyes softened; but he passed thematter by.

  "I hope you have come to stay. Has my mother managed to persuade you?"

  "She will spend to-night anyway," said Mrs. Errol.

  "And only to-night," said Anne, with quiet firmness. "You are all verykind, but--"

  "We want you," interposed Lucas Errol.

  She smiled, a quick smile that seemed reminiscent of happier days. "Yes,and thank you for it. But I must return in good time to-morrow. I told myhusband that I would do so. He is spending the night in town, but he willbe back to-morrow."

  Nap's teeth were visible, hard clenched upon his lower lip as helistened, but still he said nothing. There was something peculiarlyforcible, even sinister, in his silence. Not until Anne presently turnedand directly addressed him did his attitude change.

  "Will you take me to see the lake?" she said. "It looked so charming aswe drove up."

  He moved instantly to accompany her. They went out together into thehard brightness of the winter morning.

  "It is so good to be here," Anne said a little wistfully. "It is like aday in paradise."

  He laughed at that, not very pleasantly.

  "It is indeed," she persisted, "except for one thing. Now tell me; inwhat have I offended?"

  "You, Lady Carfax!" His brows met for an instant in a single,savage line.

  "Is it only my fancy?" she said. "I have a feeling that all is notpeace."

  He stopped abruptly by the balustrade that bounded the terrace. "Thequeen can do no wrong," he said. "She can hurt, but she cannot offend."

  "Then how have I hurt you, Nap?" she said.

  The quiet dignity of the question demanded an answer, but it was slow incoming. He leaned his arms upon the balustrade, pulling restlessly at theivy that clung there. Anne waited quite motionless beside him. She wasnot looking at the skaters; her eyes had gone beyond them.

  Abruptly at length Nap straightened himself. "I am a fool to take you totask for snubbing me," he said. "But I am not accustomed to beingsnubbed. Let that be my excuse."

  "Please tell me what you mean," said Anne.

  He looked at her. "Do you tell me you do not know?"

  "Yes," she said. Her clear eyes met his. "Why should I snub you? Ithought you were a friend."

  "A friend," he said, with emphasis. "I thought so too. But--"

  "Yes?" she said gently.

  "Isn't it customary with you to answer your friends when they write toyou?" he asked.

  Her expression changed. A look of sharp pain showed for an instant in hereyes. "My invariable custom, Nap," she said very steadily.

  "Then--that letter of mine--" he paused.

  "When did you write it?"

  "On the evening of the day you came here last--the day I missed you."

  "It did not reach me," she said, her voice very low.

  He was watching her very intently. "I sent it by messenger," he said. "Iwas hunting that day. I sat down and wrote the moment I heard you hadbeen. Tawny Hudson took it."

  "It did not reach me," she repeated. She was very pale; her eyes haddropped from his.

  "I was going to allow you a month to answer that letter," he went on, asthough she had not spoken. "After that, our--friendship would have beenat an end. The month will be up to-morrow."

  Anne was silent.

  "Lady Carfax," he said, "will you swear to me that you never receivedthat letter?"

  "No," she said.

  "You will not?"

  "I will not."

  He made a sudden movement--such a movement as a man makes involuntarilyat an unexpected dart of pain.

  Anne raised her eyes very quietly. "Let us be quite honest," she said."No oath is ever necessary between friends."

  "You expect me to believe you?" he said, and his voice was shaken by someemotion he scarcely tried to hide.

  She smiled very faintly. "You do believe me," she said.

  He turned sharply from her. "Let us go down," he said.

  They went down to the garden below the terrace, walking side by side, insilence. They stood at the edge of the lake together, and presently theytalked--talked of a hundred things in which neither were greatlyinterested. A few people drifted up and were introduced. Then Bertie camerunning down, and their _tete-a-tete_ was finally at an end.

  They were far away from one another during luncheon, and when the mealwas over Nap disappeared. He never concerned himself greatly about hisbrother's guests.

  At Bertie's persuasion Anne had brought skates, and she went down withhim to the lake in the afternoon, where they skated together tillsunset. She had a curious feeling that Nap was watching her the wholetime, though he was nowhere to be seen; nor did he appear at tea in thegreat hall.

  Later Mrs. Errol took possession of her, and they sat together in theformer's sitting-room till it was time to dress for dinner. Anne hadbrought no fancy dress, but her hostess was eager to provide for her.She clothed her in a white domino and black velvet mask, and insistedupon her wearing a splendid diamond tiara in the shape of a heart in hersoft hair.

  When she finally descended the stairs in Mrs. Errol's company, a slim mandressed as a harlequin in black and silver, who was apparently waitingfor her halfway down, bowed low and presented a glorious spray of crimsonroses with the words: "For the queen who can do no wrong!"

  "My, Nap! How you startled me!" ejaculated Mrs. Errol.

  But Anne said nothing whatever. She only looked him straight in the eyesfor an instant, and passed on with the roses in her hand.

  During dinner she saw nothing of him. The great room was crowded withlittle tables, each laid for two, and she sat at the last of all with herhost. Later she never remembered whether they talked or were silent. Sheonly knew that somewhere the eyes that had watched her all the afternoonwere watching her still, intent and tireless, biding their time. Butsilence in Lucas Errol's company was as easy as speech. Moreover, astring band played continuously throughout the meal, and the hubbubaround them made speech unnecessary.

  When they went out at last on to the terrace the whole garden wastransformed into a paradise of glowing colours. The lake shone like aprism of glass, and over all the stars hung as if suspended very nearthe earth.

  Lucas went down to the edge of the ice, leaning on his valet. Bertie,clad as a Roman soldier, was already vanishing in the distance withsomeone attired as a Swiss peasant girl. Mrs. Errol, sensibly wrappedin a large motoring coat, was maintaining a cheery conversation withthe rector, who looked cold and hungry and smiled bluely ateverything she said.

  Anne stood by her host and watched the gay scene silently. "You ought tobe skating," he said presently.

  She shook her head. "Not yet. I like watching. It makes me think of whenI was a girl."

  "Not so very long
ago, surely!" he said, with a smile.

  "Seven years," she answered.

  "My dear Lady Carfax!"

  "Yes, seven years," she repeated, and though she also smiled there was anote of unspeakable dreariness in her voice. "I was married on myeighteenth birthday."

  "My dear Lady Carfax," he said again. And with that silence fell oncemore between them, but in some magic fashion his sympathy imparted itselfto her. She could feel it as one feels sudden sunshine on a cold day. Itwarmed her to the heart.

  She moved at length, turning towards him, and at once he spoke, as ifshe had thereby set him at liberty to do so.

  "Shall I tell you what I do when I find myself very badly up againstanything?" he said.

  "Yes, tell me." Instinctively she drew nearer to him. There was thatabout this man that attracted her irresistibly.

  "It's a very simple remedy," he said, "simpler than praying. One can'talways pray. I just open the windows wide, Lady Carfax. It's ahelp--even that."

  "Ah!" she said quickly. "I think your windows must be always open."

  "It seems a pity to shut them," he answered gently. "There is always asparrow to feed, anyway."

  She laughed rather sadly. "Yes, there are always sparrows."

  "And sometimes bigger things," he said, "things one wouldn't miss forhalf creation."

  "Or lose again for the other half," said the cool voice of a skater whohad just glided up.

  Anne started a little, but Lucas scarcely moved.

  "Lady Carfax is waiting to go on the ice," he said.

  "And I am waiting to take her," the new-comer said.

  His slim, graceful figure in its black, tight-fitting garb sparkled atevery turn. His eyes shone through his velvet mask like the eyes of ananimal in the dark.

  He glided nearer, but for some reason inexplicable to herself, Annestepped back.

  "I don't think I will," she said. "I am quite happy where I am."

  "You will be happier with me," said the harlequin, with imperialconfidence.

  He waved his hand to Hudson standing a few paces away with her skates,took them from him, motioned her to the bank.

  She stepped forward, not very willingly. Hudson, at another sign, spreada rug for her. She sat down, and the glittering harlequin kneeled uponthe ice before her and fastened the blades to her feet.

  It only took a couple of minutes; he was deft in all his ways. Andthen he was on his feet again, and with a royal gesture had helpedher to hers.

  Anne looked at him half dazzled. The shimmering figure seemed to bedecked in diamonds.

  "Are you ready?" he said.

  She looked into the glowing eyes and felt as if some magic attractionwere drawing her against her will.

  "So long!" called Lucas from the bank. "Take care of her, Boney."

  In another moment they were gliding into that prism of many lights andcolours, and the harlequin, holding Anne's hands, laughed enigmaticallyas he sped her away.