The Motor Pirate

by G. Sidney Paternoster

  CHAPTER XIV

  A CLOUD APPEARS ON LOVE'S HORIZON

  MANNERING remained absent for a week, and during that time I learnedfrom Evie a good deal about the curious dread which he had inspired inher mind. Had inspired, I say, for she assured me it had passed away,and that she felt quite safe now she was promised to be my wife. Ourbetrothal had been announced the day after the never-to-be-forgottenwalk to Bricket wood, and I had hastened to make it known as widely as Icould, for I could think of no likelier method of ensuring her againstany further annoyance on the part of Mannering. When he saw that he hadlost, I could not think that he would do otherwise than retiregracefully from the scene. If, however, he failed to take his failurekindly, I should not have the slightest hesitation about sending himabout his business. I should have been tempted to do so without furtherdelay, if there had in reality been anything in Mannering's conduct towhich open exception could have been taken. Evie recognized there wasnothing of the sort as strongly as myself, and she was even averse to doas I suggested, and ask her father to hint to him that he should, for awhile at least, cease his visits to the house.

  "You see," she remarked, "if he had made himself offensive in any otherway, I should have welcomed the opportunity of speaking to papa aboutit. But he has not. His attitude has been outwardly perfectly courteous,and papa would only laugh at me if I were to tell him what I have toldyou. He would not believe me if I told him I was afraid of Mr.Mannering."

  "Besides, you are now no longer afraid?" I said.

  "No; I am no longer afraid of him. I am quite sure of that," sherepeated.

  The manner in which she made the assertion ought to have warned me thatshe was not quite so certain on the point as she was willing to believe,but no such thought crossed my mind at the time.

  "Anyhow," I continued, "if when you see Mannering again, you feel anyrecurrence of your dread, it will be easy for me to pick a quarrel withhim, and so compel him to absent himself from the house. You see, hewill be unable to come here without meeting me."

  Evie pouted a dissent. "You must not do that," she remarked. "A quarrelwith him would make both of us look ridiculous. Everybody would concludethat you were jealous; and I--I should not like to imagine any onethinking that I gave you cause."

  "My own darling!" I cried.

  * * * * *

  When once more we resumed our conversation, I bethought me of anotherplan, and I suggested to Evie that she could always find a retreat at myhome in Norfolk, if she wanted to get away from Mannering's presence. Myaunt, I knew, would be delighted to entertain her. She agreed at once toadopt this course if the occasion should arise. Thus I thought I hadprovided against every contingency for the short period which was toelapse before our wedding-day.

  When Mannering did return, however, it seemed as if we had been makingpreparations to meet a contingency which was never likely to arise. Helearned of Evie's engagement from the Colonel, the morning after hisreturn to St. Albans. He took the news very well. Much more coolly thanI should have done had I been the disappointed one. In fact, a fewminutes after he had been made acquainted with Evie's engagement, hecame to us where we were in the garden, and congratulated us forthwith.

  "You are a lucky fellow, Sutgrove," he said. "I had cherished a fainthope that your luck might be mine, and now the only consolation I haveis that the best man always wins."

  Spoken in a different tone than that which he employed, his words wouldhave made a very pretty compliment, but from his lips the words seemedto be very like a sarcasm. However, I could pardon the expression of alittle bitterness under the circumstances, so I made no reply; and,turning to Evie, he continued--

  "I trust your new tie will not put an end to the old friendships, MissMaitland?"

  "Why should it?" she asked.

  "They often do," he replied.

  "Not if the old friendships are the real thing," I interjected.

  "No; not if they are the real thing," he repeated slowly. "I hope youwill find mine to be the real thing."

  A faint smile fluttered across his face as he spoke, and was gone in aninstant. Neither Evie nor myself knew what to reply, and an awkwardpause ensued. He seemed to feel the awkwardness of it just as much aseither of us, and he changed the subject with an inquiry as to whetheranything further had been heard or seen of the Motor Pirate during hisown absence in Paris.

  "I have been far too busy to even look at the papers," he explained,"and he might have been captured for all I know."

  "No such luck," I replied. "This time he seems to have disappeared forgood."

  "I see I shall have to take up your job, and devote my energies to thetask of his capture," he said laughingly. And, turning to Evie, he said,"I presume you will not allow Sutgrove to take any risks of that sortnow, Miss Maitland?"

  Again there was something sarcastic in his tone, and I could see by theflush in Evie's cheek that the question had angered her. She answeredalmost hotly--

  "I am quite sure if any one can capture the Pirate, Jim can."

  "I have no intention of giving up the pursuit just at present," I addedquietly, with a glance of thanks to my dear one for her readychampionship.

  "I don't think I should trouble myself about any Motor Pirate if I werein your position," he replied. "I fancy if I were engaged to be marriedto the best girl in the world, the first thing I should do would be toeliminate every risk from my life, instead of looking about for freshones. Besides, it seems scarcely fair on the girl, does it?"

  "Surely that depends on what the girl thinks, doesn't it?" asked Evie."A good many girls haven't much admiration for the man who would act asyou suggest."

  "Ah, well!" returned Mannering. "I see now where Sutgrove has succeeded.The prize always goes to the adventurous."

  Again there was a subtle provocation in his tone--something very like asneer. An angry retort was on the tip of my tongue, but a glance fromEvie checked it, and soon after he left us together.

  "You must not be angry with him," she said, as soon as we were alone."He does not know you as I do; and besides I think he--he must bedisappointed."

  "There's not the slightest doubt about that," I answered emphatically."He is badly hit, and he takes it pretty well considering. I know Ishouldn't have taken my gruel so coolly. In fact, that is just what Idon't like about him. One never knows what is going on behind thathandsome mask of his."

  "Handsome," she said. "Do you call him handsome?"

  "Yes. I should say he was one of the handsomest men of my acquaintance.How could you ever bestow a single glance or thought upon me when----"

  Evie placed her hand upon my lips. "You dear, foolish old boy," shesaid. "There is only one face in the whole wide world which I think isreally handsome, and I have thought so from the first time I caughtsight of it."

  There was another interlude in our conversation--they were prettyfrequent in those days--and the subject dropped for a time. It recurredfrequently, however, and gradually I perceived that whatever subject wediscussed, sooner or later, Mannering's name was bound to crop up. Atfirst I rather encouraged Evie to talk about him; but, after a while, Idiscovered that I was ministering to the feeling which I thought hadbeen destroyed. I could not help but notice that, soon after Mannering'sreturn, Evie's high spirits became subdued--her gaiety less spontaneous.Yet when I asked her whether Mannering's presence produced any effectupon her, she assured me to the contrary.

  Nor did I see how Mannering could possibly exert any influence over her.I took particular care that he should never have a _tete-a-tete_ withher. Sometimes she would not even see him for a couple of days at atime, and when she did, it would be merely for a few minutes, andnearly always in the presence of Colonel Maitland as well as myself.

  It appeared to me, indeed, as if Mannering even took pains to avoidseeing much of her; and, though I watched him closely, his bearing wasalways studiously correct. He was the same _insouciant_ person who hadimpressed me so favourably upon my first introductio
n to him. Butwhether it was owing to the distrust which Evie's fear of him hadimpressed upon me, or because I could really see things which had beforebeen hidden from my sight, I certainly did observe about him certainsingularities which I had never before remarked. I saw, for instance,that, in speaking of his face as a handsome mask, I had been nearer thetruth than I had known. On more than one occasion, while his lips wereparted in a genial smile, I observed in his eyes an expression strangelyat variance therewith. It was the expression of a cat when it crouchesto spring upon a mouse. I have seen that look bent upon my betrothed. Ihave caught it directed at myself. There was a restlessness, too, whichgave the lie to his nonchalant manner. I could see that he forcedhimself to remain still. His fingers were always busy with something orother.

  These were trifles, and equally trivial seemed the sarcasms which hedirected at me now and again. These I attributed to the ebullitions oftemper, natural enough in a defeated suitor. In my heart I pitied him,for I fancied I knew what a struggle it must have cost him to standaside and watch a successful rival's happiness.

  As the days passed, a certain constraint appeared to have arisen betweenEvie and myself. I told myself that the idea was foolish, and yet I knewthat it was not so. Mind, I had not the slightest doubt as to thestrength of Evie's love for me. She expressed it clearly, yet there wassomething drawing us apart, and I began to be afraid.

  Towards the middle of June the tension became so great, that I could seethe time had arrived when it would be necessary to do something; and,one night, I determined to mention the matter. Accordingly, afterdinner, I persuaded Evie to come into the garden, with the intention tospeak firmly in my mind. There, however, in the faint light of thesummer night, with the sweet scent of the early roses filling the air, Iforgot everything in the blissfulness of my lot. We had paced ourfavourite walk once in silence--my heart was too full of delight forspeech--when, as we retraced our steps, to my surprise, Evie burstsuddenly into passionate tears. Some minutes elapsed before I could calmher, and when I managed at last to do so, it needed all my powers ofpersuasion to get her to confide in me the cause of her outburst. Atfirst she said it was nothing but the hysteria of happiness. Then sheasked me, with a fierce clutch on my arm, if I should think herunmaidenly if she asked that our wedding-day should be hastened. We hadfixed it for September, so I at once suggested July.

  Her mood changed at once. She said she was not feeling well, and that Imust not listen to her. But being now thoroughly alarmed at herobviously nervous condition, I questioned her until I elicited from herthat all her old dread of Mannering had returned, and with doubleintensity, in that it was accompanied by a presentiment of disaster tomyself.

  "Jim," she said, looking up into my face with eyes which glowed in thefaint light like stars, "I shall not feel sure of you until I am withyou always. I want to be near you to look after you. Every moment youare absent from my side, I am imagining all sorts of horrible thingshappening to you. And it is worse to bear, because, it seems to me, thatI am the cause of it all."

  I strove to laugh away her fears, but, say what I would, I could notdispel the thought in her mind that some disaster threatened our love.Probing her mind for the foundation of her belief, I was not surprisedto find that Mannering had something to do with it.

  I did my best to make her mind easy, while determining that I would atonce take steps to secure change of air and scene for her at some spotwhere my late rival should not come. She became tolerably composed atlast, and I took her back to the drawing-room, where I was glad to findMrs. Winter, in whom I recognized a most useful sedative forover-excited nerves.

  We had a little music, and with that and the commonplaces ofconversation, the evening passed until eleven had struck, and theColonel's yawns warned me that the time had arrived for taking mydeparture.

  The Winters and myself had just risen to leave when we heard a hastystep on the gravel outside, and, turning, we saw a man's figure at oneof the French windows opening on to the garden.

  "Hullo!" said the Colonel. "Who's that?"

  The new-comer stepped into the room, and, as the light fell upon hisface, I recognized Forrest. He nodded to me and turned to the Colonel.

  "I trust you will excuse this unceremonious call of mine, ColonelMaitland," he said. "But I was desirous of seeing Mr. Sutgroveimmediately, and I guessed I should find him here."

  "I'll excuse you, if you will come to the smoking-room and drink Mr.Sutgrove's health in a whisky-and-seltzer," replied the Colonel,heartily.

  "I don't think I can spare the time," said the detective, quietly.

  "Nonsense, man! You must drink the health of my future son-in-law!" hedeclared.

  "Most certainly," remarked Forrest. "I can find time for that, eventhough----" He paused, and then said, with quiet incisiveness, "Eventhough the Motor Pirate is upon the road again!"