“No, I agree with Dennis that you mustn’t be allowed to talk to-night. To-morrow you can tell us what’s wrong, and we’ll do anything you want. If you should require someone murdered or anything, just let me know.”
She began to laugh, a high uncertain sound, the prelude to certain collapse. “Oh, Jeremy, I wish you could.”
“Why not?” he murmured. “Just one thing. Tell me, is it that hound, Ralph?”
She drew her hand away. “You’ll think me unspeakable, Arthur,” she said, facing round to us all, “and I’m sure James won’t let me stay in his house. But I’m breaking with you because I’m going to marry Ralph Feltham.”
2
After Hilary had gone, I was surprised to find Dennis easily the coolest man of us all.
“Well, of c-course I knew she hadn’t been ploughing about on the Downs all the evening,” he said. “You’ve only g-got to look at her shoes.”
He pointed to them, where they lay on the floor, as he spoke, and we saw what he meant.
“They’re m-muddy, of course. But anyone who walked a quarter of a mile on the cleanest path would be muddy in weather like this. But compare them with yours,” he nodded to Jeremy, “or mine, and see the difference. S-she didn’t lose her way at all. She kept to the paths all the time.”
“Then she’s been deliberately deceiving you,” broke in Meriel indignantly. I caught a glimpse of Eleanor’s face; it was tragic. She looked as if she were going to speak when Dennis forestalled her.
“What we’ve got to f-find out is whether she’s marrying Feltham, or t-thinks she’s going to marry him, because she has to—I mean, because he’s g-got some sort of hold over her—or whether it’s because she wants to.”
“Wants to!” exclaimed Eleanor in a dreadful voice. “Can you imagine any woman wanting to marry Ralph Feltham?”
“Quite a lot have w-wanted to,” Dennis pointed out, a little apologetically. “And I d-don’t think it’s very odd, either. I mean, we live a good deal by the law of contrast. You could hardly f-find anyone less like all of us than Feltham, c-could you? It’s pure reaction, I should s-say.”
Nunn observed in his curt, unvarnished manner, “Upon my soul, Dennis, you take it pretty coolly. Do you mean to say you’re going to stand aside and let a fellow with Feltham’s reputation marry the girl you were engaged to?”
“Oh, no,” said Dennis, in some surprise. “Of course not. And even if I would, Freyne wouldn’t. But I’m just pointing out a second reason why Hilary might be prepared to. He’s very picturesque, and there is something that Hilary would call romantic about marrying a man of his achievements.”
“He’s either being very modest or very subtle,” announced Mrs. Ross in decisive tones, “and when men are being modest they’re always proudest of themselves. Besides, I dare say he doesn’t want to marry the chit any more—unless he’s going to be philanthropic on top of everything else.”
“Do you call it philanthropic to marry Hilary?”
“It would save her from herself, wouldn’t it?”
“By preventing her from marrying anyone else? But I don’t agree. I shouldn’t save Hilary, as you call it, by preventing her marrying Feltham, though between us that’s what we’ve got to do. I’m only pointing out his probable attraction.”
“Over your own?”
“A girl I t-thought at that time I wanted to marry—it’s about t-ten years ago now—told me she couldn’t t-think of anyone she’d rather have for a second husband. I dare say t-that’s how Hilary feels.”
Then Jeremy stopped all this senseless badinage by saying in a thoughtful voice, “Whereabouts is Feltham at this moment? I didn’t realise he was in the neighbourhood.”
“He’s not supposed to be,” returned Eleanor, “but with Ralph you can never tell. He has a shooting-lodge over at Ravensend, and he comes down every now and again.”
“Where did you say Hilary gave you the slip?” Jeremy turned to Dennis.
“At M-Merlin’s Wood.”
“H’m. I hadn’t realised that. Of course, there’s a direct short cut to Ravensend. That explains a lot. In fact, it must have been Hilary’s footstep we heard. No wonder she stopped dead when we shouted. I wonder if we could get over there to-night. Fog’s lifted, hasn’t it?”
“I don’t c-care if it’s lifted as high as H-heaven,” said Dennis, in his mild, determined tones, “you aren’t going to hunt out Feltham t-to-night.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You aren’t going to hunt out Feltham to-night.”
“No? Who says not?”
“I do.”
“You…?”
“Yes. I’m officially engaged to her still. D-don’t forget that. And I won’t have the s-scandal. What do you suppose people would s-say if they heard she spent several hours with the fellow and t-then you went and tried to throttle him? B-because that’s what it would c-come to. It always does, with hot-headed fellows like you.”
“All the same,” repeated Jeremy, coolly, “I think I shall go. Just smell out the land, so to speak. No?” as Dennis shook his head. “Who’ll stop me?”
“I w-will, if it comes to that.” When Jeremy laughed in an unpleasant manner, the tall, casual fellow reached out an arm and with a muscular strength for which none of us had given him credit, had Jeremy’s wrists between his fingers and slowly, silently, forced him on to his knees. Jeremy was like whipcord and india-rubber; the rest of us watched fascinated. I could see that it took Dennis every ounce of his strength and atom of skill to hold his man; but hold him he did.
Jeremy yielded with a good grace. “Your trick,” he said. “And I wish some time you’d show me how that’s done. I thought I knew most of the dodges, but that’s a new one on me.”
“Asiatic in origin,” murmured Dennis. “Sorry and all that. Damned undignified, I know, but you m-must see that if you were allowed to have your crazy way, you’d play straight into Feltham’s hands. In fact, I w-wouldn’t mind betting most of what I’ve g-got, that he’s sitting up, hoping for something of the kind.”
Meriel Ross’s plaintive voice broke in again. “But why does he want to marry Hilary, do you suppose? Because she’s going to inherit ten thousand pounds next week? But now that we have sensible laws, there’s nothing to compel her to give him anything.”
“Still, a girl doesn’t marry a man with the idea of hanging on to every penny of her own, if he’s in a tight corner,” Nunn put in. “Anyway, she’s reckless about money.”
Dennis said, so thoughtfully that we all began to laugh, “We can’t tell that that is the reason. He m-may want her for herself.”
“Men are odd,” Mrs. Ross agreed. “But if that’s true, he’s in better company than he’s been for years, I should imagine. And now I’m going to bed. Really, it’s been a most remarkable evening, and I seem to have enjoyed it a good deal, especially this last part.” She smiled affectionately at Jeremy and waved her hand to the rest of us.
Chapter VI
1
The affair was given no opportunity to slide, even for a few hours. Next morning, before the house was properly astir, that is to say, before the guests had turned out to the customary late breakfast, Ralph Feltham rode over on a very fine bay mare. I wondered cynically whom he had bled for that. A man who could afford to own such a beast was not the penniless adventurer I remembered. Nor could Eleanor alone have supplied him with sufficient funds to warrant such luxury. It was ten years since I had seen the fellow, but he had worn well. Beside him, I was bound to confess that Dennis was a pretty poor stick. Ralph had always had the advantage of commanding height, good shoulders, a fencer’s hips and flanks. He had, too, the good looks of most of the male Felthams, and instantly I realised all the good points a woman would discover in the man. On the whole, despite the years of dissipation and reckless folly, his appearance had improved. He had what D
ennis manifestly had not, the stamp of wide and spirited experience. He had matured, perhaps, but he had also mellowed. In place of the impudent assurance or the bluff insolence for which I looked was a quality of cool-headed resolution that could not fail to be impressive.
But if I was impressed, Nunn wasn’t. He was upstairs when Ralph arrived, and he kept his visitor waiting some minutes, during which he and I kept up a desultory conversation. But if it was desultory it was, to my mind, profoundly disturbing. Ralph walked lightly round the hall, pausing beneath family portraits that he astonishingly resembled; his riding-kit emphasised all his good points; his hair was as thick and black as ever; he had trimmed his moustache to the merest toothbrush. He hadn’t, as I had half-expected, run to fat. Those fierce, disconcerting black eyes, that he got from his West Country mother, flickered like a butterfly’s tongue, gathering up every treasured detail of that hall’s beauty. He had been brought up here; I had only spent isolated periods in the house, and I always felt a guest. To him it was home. In spite of the lapse of years, that was evidently the way in which he regarded it, as he touched with a thoughtful hand the moulding on the walls, caressed the old, carved newel-post, stood at the narrow windows to observe the distant enchanted view, while he waited for Nunn to come down to him.
“Odd how these places get you,” he murmured to me. “I’ve hardly been here in fifteen years. The present tenant positively discourages my visits, but I feel as if I’d scarcely ever left its roof. One of these days I’ll be back here—with Hilary. A man has to cut loose some time, dig in his roots. It’ll be good to be back.” He drifted into a jumble of anecdote and legend about the place; the fellow was amazingly plausible. I forgot his errand as I listened. No wonder he’d been able to do much as he pleased as he knocked about the earth. And according to his own account he’d had a royal time. I was genuinely surprised when Nunn’s voice interrupted the conversation.
I saw Ralph stiffen a bit at the sight of him. He couldn’t forget that, whatever his record, he was a Feltham of Feltham Abbey and this squat, uncompromising little fellow had started life at half-a-crown a week.
“I asked for Eleanor,” he said, coldly.
“My wife is unable to see you. She has deputed me… I take it, it’s a matter of considerable urgency. You know my views as to your presence in this house.”
If he had wanted to insult Ralph he couldn’t have chosen a better opening. I thought myself it was rather galling for the fellow, considering the place did actually belong to him.
“If I didn’t know them, you couldn’t conceivably blame yourself for lack of emphasis,” said Ralph, colouring with rage. “Well, I’ve only come for Hilary. I’ll go after that. But before long we shall both come back—here. Not even you will be able to keep us out.”
“You’re scarcely serious?”
“Certainly I am. Do you suppose I would come out here to meet the kind of reception experience has taught me I may expect from you for a trifle? Hilary told you, I take it.”
“Hilary was scarcely in a state to talk of anything reasonable last night. She’d obviously passed through a very severe ordeal.”
“You don’t spare your enemies, do you? I’m to take it that you’re opposed to the match?”
“My ward is engaged to another man.”
“But she won’t marry him. If she didn’t marry me, I doubt if she’d marry him. She’s recognised that mistake already.”
“You have grounds, no doubt, for your statement…”
“Fellow’s too old.”
“Not more than a couple of years older than yourself, I believe.”
“In every possible way, including years, he’s too old a man for her. These Civil Servants age quickly. And besides, he’s not her type.”
“Nor are you, I believe, hers.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. She’s not one of those women who must go all out for security, any more than I’m that type of man.”
“Possibly not. Still, in a marriage it’s necessary for one side at all events to have a little sense, and a grain of conscience.”
“You don’t credit her with either?”
“Married to you, her life would be a disaster. She needs a very different type of man to save her from her own foolishness. However, that’s all rather beside the point. There is and can be no suggestion of my ward marrying you.”
“Because I’ve led what you might call a racketty life? So have most men, if it comes to that. Or is there some additional objection?”
I was surprised at the amount of control Ralph was displaying. For, though he had his temper in check now, he was strongly moved, and had been strongly provoked.
“Is it really necessary to pursue the matter further? Yesterday’s behaviour alone would justify any man in refusing to listen to you. Didn’t it occur to you how her reputation would suffer if it became known that she’d bamboozled her future husband in order to meet you on the sly?”
“As I’m proposing to become her future husband, I should hardly suppose that matters. And how else did you expect her to meet me? You’ve resolutely refused to let us meet openly. You’ve closed your doors to me. She can’t even go out by herself, without that long Irish fellow tagging after her.”
“That seems natural enough in the circumstances.”
“It may be, but when she’s my wife he’d better steer clear of my house.”
“When…?”
“And why not? Do you think you’ll stop me? I’ve had all the things I meant to get so far, and I’ve paid whatever price was stuck down on the label. Oh, yes, you’re remembering the Laurine scandal, the fuss there was over that diamond business in South Africa, yes, and half a dozen other things, no doubt. But there’s one point you seem to have forgotten, and that is that in each case I wanted something and meant to get it, and in each case I did. When you want a thing or a woman beyond law and convention and what other men think, you’ve as good as got your way.”
“And you’ve forgotten something, too. In none of those other cases have I been in your way. There’s another reason why you can’t in any circumstances marry Hilary. Have you forgotten what you are? I’d rather hear you acknowledge that you were guilty of that harlot’s murder than know, as I do, that you’ve even sunk to blackmail.” (So Eleanor had told him.)
Ralph laughed. “You can’t frighten me with words. Oh yes, blackmail sounds ugly, but what is it that you haven’t done yourself, if we get down to brass tacks? Just taking advantage of the folly or the weakness of your adversaries. How did you build up a big business like yours? By keeping your weather-eye open, and profiting by the lapses of other people. You were more intelligent, no doubt, but if your opponents never made a slip and you didn’t take advantage of it, you wouldn’t be where you are now. And when you make money, and pots of it, by those means, no one calls you a potential criminal. Oh, don’t make any mistake about it. I’ve seen this kind of legal ramp go on in every city in Europe—and in the U.S.A. and Australia and every other place where men meet together and try and outpace one another’s fortunes. You see it on the Stock Exchange, and you see it in business, and you see how every man uses every scrap of information he can get about his neighbour’s concerns that may be helpful to him—and are you going to try and pretend to me that you’re so squeamish that you don’t make use of such information? Of course you do; and make money out of it, too. And so do I. You can rebuke that kind of thing, if you like, but don’t forget that we’re in the same boat.”
That gives you some notion of the fellow’s ingenuity and his method of argument. I was trying to decide whether he really meant all that or whether it was pure bluff, when he turned suddenly, saying, “I suppose it’s no use my asking for Hilary? But I’ll get her all the same.”
“I doubt it,” said Nunn, drily. “Though I acknowledge that, at the last, it’s an affair you’ll settle between yourselves.”
>
“I don’t imagine I shall find this fancy-man of hers much difficulty.”
“And after him, there’s Mr. Freyne.”
If they had been scoring, that would have been a goal to Nunn.
Ralph was galvanised into sudden activity. “Freyne here?”
“He is. He’s a guest of mine.”
He didn’t mean to spare Ralph any more than he had spared Hilary last night. But now Ralph didn’t seem to notice.
“Of all the… And he thinks he’s going to marry Hilary? He would. He’s a damned obstinate beggar, too.”
A door above our heads opened and Dennis came out on to the wide gallery. He looked, owing to the construction of the house, slighter and shorter than he actually was, more like a shadow from the ghosts of the past than a creature of bone and sinew.
Ralph took a step forward. “Mr. Dennis?”
Dennis bowed.
“I have been trying to persuade Sir James that Hilary has broken off her engagement, and is, instead, going to marry me.”
“It hadn’t occurred to you to try and persuade me of that fact, first?”
Ralph tapped his boot with his switch. His voice was pleasantly insolent. “As a matter of fact, it hadn’t.”
“It’s these strategical blunders that ruin more potential generals than you outsiders would ever believe.”
Ralph scowled. “Since you’ve raised the point, may I ask you to accept my assurance that Hilary is not going to marry you?”
“I’m a civil servant, I’m afraid. It’s a stiff training. One of the first things we learn is not to accept unofficial information.” He bowed again and went back to his room. He hadn’t turned a hair.
“What the devil did Hilary see in that chap?” asked Ralph, genuinely puzzled. “He’ll be bald before they’ve been married five years. And I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if he wore paper cuffs in his working hours. Cool devil, too. Casually smoking a cigarette as if he hadn’t a care in the world.”
“Oh,” I said, “they teach you that in the Civil Service, too.”
Death in Fancy Dress Page 9