CHAPTER XIII
CAMPBELL REMONSTRATES
In his note to Guy, Cyril had asked the latter to join him at his clubas soon as he had left Priscilla at the hotel, and so when the timepassed and his friend neither came nor telephoned, Cyril's anxiety knewno bounds.
What could have happened? thought Cyril. Had Priscilla been arrested? Inthat case, however, Guy would surely have communicated with him at once,for the police could have had no excuse for detaining the latter.
Several acquaintances he had not seen for years greeted him cordially,but he met their advances so half-heartedly that they soon left him tohimself, firmly convinced that the title had turned his head. Only one,an old friend of his father's, refused to be shaken off and sat prosingaway quite oblivious of his listener's preoccupation till the words"your wife" arrested Cyril's wandering attention.
"Yes," the Colonel was saying, "too bad that you should have this addedworry just now. Taken ill on the train, too--most awkward."
Cyril was so startled that he could only repeat idiotically: "My wife?"
"Am I wrong?" exclaimed the Colonel, evidently at a loss to understandCyril's perturbation. "Your wife is in town, isn't she, and ill?"
What should he answer? He dared not risk a denial.
"Who told you that she was ill?" he asked.
"It was in the morning papers. Didn't you see it?"
"In the papers!"
Cyril realised at once that he ought to have foreseen that this wasbound to have occurred. Too many people knew the story for it not tohave leaked out eventually.
"I have not had time to read them to-day," replied Cyril as soon as hewas able to collect his wits a little. "What did they say?"
"Only that your wife had been prostrated by the shock of Wilmersley'smurder, and had to be removed from the train to a nursing home."
"It's a bore that it got into the papers. My wife is only suffering froma slight indisposition and will be all right in a day or two," Cyrilhastened to assure him.
"Glad to hear it. I must meet her. Where is she staying at present?"
"She--she is still at the nursing home--but she is leaving thereto-morrow." Then fearing that more questions were impending, Cyrilseized the Colonel's hand and shaking it vehemently exclaimed: "I mustwrite some letters. So glad to have had this chat with you," and withoutgiving the Colonel time to answer, he fled from the room.
Cyril looked at his watch. Ten minutes to three! Guy must have met withan accident. Suddenly an alarming possibility occurred to him,--what ifthe police had traced the jewels to Campbell? The bag, which haddisappeared, must have been taken by them. Griggs, when he inquired soinnocently about "Lady Wilmersley," had been fully cognisant of thegirl's identity. What was to be done now? He could not remain passiveand await developments. He must--was that--could that be Campbellsauntering so leisurely toward him? Indeed it was!
"What has happened?" asked Cyril in a hoarse whisper, dragging hisfriend into a secluded corner. "Tell me at once."
"Nothing, my dear boy. I am afraid I kept you waiting longer than Iintended to. I hope you have not been anxious?" Guy seemed, however,quite unconcerned.
"Anxious!" exclaimed Cyril indignantly. "Well, rather! How could youhave kept me in such suspense? Why didn't you come to me at once onleaving Miss Prentice?"
"But I did. I have just left her."
"And she is really all right? The governess, Miss What's her name, iswith her?"
"Certainly. But I didn't want to leave Mrs. Thompkins alone with astranger in a strange place, so I stayed and lunched with them."
Cyril almost choked with rage. _He_ had had no lunch at all. He had beentoo upset to think of such a thing and all the time they--oh! It was tooabominable! Campbell was a selfish little brute. He would never forgivehim, thought Cyril, scowling down at the complacent offender. For he wascomplacent, that was the worst of it. From the top of his sleek, redhead to the tips of his immaculate boots, he radiated a triumphantself-satisfaction. What was the matter with the man? wondered Cyril. Heseemed indefinably changed. There was a jauntiness about him--a light inhis eyes which Cyril did not remember to have noticed before. And whatwas the meaning of those two violets drooping so sentimentally in hisbuttonhole? Cyril stared at the flowers as if hypnotised.
"So you liked Miss Prentice?" he managed to say, controlling himselfwith an effort.
"Rather! But I say, Cyril, it's all rot about her being that Prenticewoman."
"Ah, you think so?"
"I don't think--I know. Why, she speaks French like a native."
"How did you find that out?" asked Cyril, forgetting his indignation inhis surprise at this new development.
"We had a duffer of a waiter who understood very little English, so Mrs.Thompkins spoke to him in French, and such French! It sounded like thereal thing."
Cyril was dumfounded. How could a girl brought up in a small inlandvillage, which she had left only six months before, have learnt French?And then he remembered that the doctor had told him that she hadretained a dim recollection of Paris. Why had the significance of thatfact not struck him before?
"But if she is not Priscilla Prentice, who on earth can she be? Shecan't be Anita Wilmersley!" he exclaimed.
"Of course not. She--she--" Guy paused at a loss for a suggestion.
"And yet, if she is not the sempstress, she must be Anita!"
"Why?"
"Because of the jewels in her bag."
"I don't believe they are the Wilmersley jewels----"
"There is no doubt as to that. I have the list somewhere and you caneasily verify it."
"Then the bag is not hers. It may have been left in the seat by some oneelse."
"She opened it in my presence."
"But you proved to me last night that she could not be Lady Wilmersley,"insisted Guy.
"So I did. Anita has masses of bright, yellow hair. This girl's hair isdark."
"Well, then----"
"There seems no possible explanation to the enigma," acknowledged Cyril.
"Perhaps she wore a wig."
"She did not. When she fainted I loosened her veil and a strand of herhair caught in my fingers. It was her own, I can swear to that."
"She may have dyed it."
"I never thought of that," exclaimed Cyril. "No, I don't think she couldhave had time to dye it. It takes hours, I believe. At nine, when shewas last seen, she had made no attempt to alter her appearance. NowWilmersley was----"
"Hold on," cried Guy. "You told me, did you not, that she had cut offher hair because it had turned white?"
"Yes," assented Cyril.
"Very well, then, that disposes of the possibility of its having beendyed."
"So it does. And yet, she carried the Wilmersley jewels, that is a factwe must not forget."
"Then she must be a hitherto unsuspected factor in the case."
"Possibly, and yet---"
"Yet what?"
"I confess I have no other solution to offer. Oh, by the way, what isthe number of her room?"
Guy stiffened perceptibly.
"I don't think I remember it."
"How annoying! I particularly asked you to make a note of it!"
"Oh, did you?" Guy's face was averted and he toyed nervously with hiseye-glass.
"Of course I did. You must realise--in fact we discussed ittogether--that I must be able to see her."
"As there is nothing that you can do for her, why should you compromiseher still further?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you ought not to take further advantage of her peculiaraffliction so as to play the part of a devoted husband."
"This is outrageous--" began Cyril, but Campbell cut him short.
"While you fancied that she was in need of your assistance, I grant thatthere was some excuse for your conduct, but to continue the farce anylonger would be positively dishonourable."
Cyril was so surprised at Campbell's belligerent tone that for a momentit rendered him s
peechless. From a boy Guy had always been his humbleadmirer. What could have wrought this sudden change in him? wonderedCyril. Again his eyes lingered on the violets. It was not possible! Andyet Cyril had often suspected that under Guy's obvious shrewdness therelurked a vein of romanticism. And as Cyril surveyed his friend, hiswrath slowly cooled. For the first time it occurred to him thatCampbell's almost comic exterior must be a real grief to a man of histemperament. His own appearance had always seemed to Cyril such anegligible quantity that he shrank from formulating even in his own mindthe reason why he felt that it would be absurd to fear Guy as a rival. Aman who is not to be feared is a man to be pitied, and it was thisunacknowledged pity, together with a sudden suspicion of the possibletragedy of his friend's life, which allayed Cyril's indignation and madehim finally reply gently:
"I think you are mistaken. I am sure she still needs me."
"She does not. Miss Trevor and I are quite able to look after her."
"I don't doubt your goodwill, my dear Guy, but what about her feelings?"
"Feelings! I like that! Do you fancy that her feelings are concerned? Doyou imagine that she will be inconsolable at your absence?"
"You appear to forget that she believes me to be her husband. Herpride--her vanity will be hurt if I appear to neglect her." Cyril stillspoke very quietly.
"Then I will tell her the truth at once," exclaimed Campbell.
"And risk the recurrence of her illness? Remember the doctor insistedthat she must on no account be agitated."
"Why should it agitate her to be told that you are not her husband? Ishould think it would be a jolly sight more agitating to believe one'sself bound to a perfect stranger. It is a wonder it has not driven thepoor child crazy."
"Luckily she took the sad news very calmly," Cyril could not refrainfrom remarking. Really, Guy was intolerable and he longed with aprimitive longing to punch his head. But he had to control himself. Guywas capable of being nasty, if not handled carefully. So he hastilycontinued:
"How can you undeceive her on one point without explaining the wholesituation to her?"
"I--" began Guy, "I--" He paused.
"Exactly. Even you have no solution to offer. Even you have toacknowledge that the relief of knowing that she is not my wife might beoffset by learning not only that we are quite in the dark as to who sheis, but that at any moment she may be arrested on a charge of murder."
"I don't know what to do!" murmured Guy helplessly.
"Do nothing for the present."
"Nothing!" exclaimed Guy. "Nothing! And leave you to insinuate yourselfinto her--affections! She must be told the truth some day, but by thattime she may have grown to--to--love you." Guy gulped painfully over theword. "You are a married man. That fact evidently seems 'too trifling'to be considered, but I fancy she will not regard it as casually as youdo."
"This is absurd," began Cyril, but Guy intercepted him.
"You feel free to do as you please because you expect to get a divorce,but you have not got it yet, remember, and in the meantime your wife maybring a countersuit, naming Miss--Mrs. Thompkins as corespondent."
This suggestion staggered Cyril for a moment.
"And in that case," continued Campbell, "she would probably think thatshe ought to marry you. After having been dragged through the filth of adivorce court, she would imagine herself too besmirched to give herselfto any other man. And your wealth, your title, and your precious selfmay not seem to her as desirable as you suppose. She is the sort of girlwho would think them a poor exchange for the loss of her reputation andher liberty of choice. When she discovers how you have compromised herby your asinine stupidity, I don't fancy that she will take a lenientview of your conduct."
"You seem to forget that if I had not shielded her with my name, shewould undoubtedly have been arrested on the train."
"Oh, I don't doubt you meant well."
"Thanks," murmured Cyril sarcastically.
"All I say is that you must not see her again till this mystery iscleared up. I didn't forget about the number of her apartment, but Iwasn't going to help you to sneak in to her at all hours. Now, if youwant to see her, you will have to go boldly up to the hotel and haveyourself properly announced. And I don't think you will care aboutthat."
"I promised to see her. I shall not break my word."
"I don't care a fig for your promises. You shan't see her as long as shebelieves you to be her husband."
Luckily the room was empty, for both men had risen to their feet.
"I shall see her," repeated Cyril.
"If you do, I warn you that I shall tell her the truth and risk theconsequences. She shall not, if I can help it, be placed in a positionwhere she will be forced to marry a man who has, after all, lived hislife. She ought--" Guy paused abruptly.
"She ought, in other words, to be given the choice between my batteredheart and your virgin affections. Is that it?"
"I mean----"
"Oh, you have made your meaning quite clear, I assure you!" interruptedCyril. "But what you have been saying is sheer nonsense. You have beencalling me to account for things that have not happened, and blaming mefor what I have not done. She is not being dragged through the divorcecourt, and I see no reason to suppose that she ever will be. I am nottrying to force her to marry me, and can promise that I shall never doso. Far from taking advantage of the situation, I assure you my conducthas been most circumspect. Don't cross a bridge till you get to it, anddon't accuse a man of being a cad just because--" Cyril paused abruptlyand looked at Guy, and as he did so, his expression slowly relaxed tillhe finally smiled indulgently--"just because a certain lady is verycharming," he added.
But Guy was not to be pacified. He would neither retract nor modify hisultimatum. He knew, of course, that Cyril would not dare to write thegirl; for if the letter miscarried or was found by the police, it mightbe fatal to both.
But while they were still heatedly debating the question, a way suddenlyoccurred to Cyril by which he could communicate with her with absolutesafety. So he waited placidly for Guy to take himself off, which heeventually did, visibly elated at having, as he thought, effectually puta stop to further intercourse between the two. He had hardly left theclub, however, before Cyril was talking to Priscilla over the telephone!He explained to her as best he could that he had been called out of townfor a few days, and begged her on no account to leave her apartmentstill he returned. He also tried to impress on her that she had bettertalk about him as little as possible and above all things not to mentioneither to Campbell or Miss Trevor that she had heard from him andexpected to see him before long.
It cost Cyril a tremendous effort to restrict himself to necessaryinstructions and polite inquiries, especially as she kept begging him tocome back to her as soon as possible. Finally he could bear the strainno longer, and in the middle of a sentence he resolutely hung up thereceiver.
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