Chapter 13
He thought over the situation before he went to rest, and though he was so tired after the previous late night that he could scarcely keep his eyes open, he decided upon a plan of action.
In pursuance of it, he wrote a letter to Barbara Ashcot on the following morning, and sent it to her through the post instead of delivering it personally. In it he told her that he would have to avoid calling upon her and Mrs. Ashcot for a few days, as his acquaintance with them was disapproved of, but that he hoped she would write to tell him how they were, and that they would allow him to call again as soon as he was at liberty to do so.
He went to The Lawns that morning with great repugnance, and this was intensified when he found Miss Ferriby not merely amiable, but positively affectionate. She held out her hand to him in such a way that he saw he was expected to kiss it, and this he did with all the appearance of devotion he was able to muster.
During the hours of the morning Miss Ferriby leaned amorously over the desk, and instead of striking him into admiration and respect by her clever and shrewd summing up of the merits of the writers of her letters, she now assumed a seductive attitude, as ridiculous as it was unbecoming, and gave him opening after opening for the exaggerated compliments which he took care to pay.
At lunchtime she reminded him that he was going to stay to dine with her, but he said that he must pay a duty call near Eaton Square between the end of his day's duties and dinnertime. Although Miss Ferriby was displeased, she had to agree to this, and Welton, at four o'clock, left The Lawns and hurried away to Lady Mirfield's.
His first duty in connection with the unpleasant business in which he found himself involved, was to warn such of his friends and acquaintances as had dealings with Miss Ferriby, to be cautious in their association with that untrustworthy person.
Lady Mirfield either was, or professed to be, suffering from a headache which was too severe to allow her to walk from her boudoir to the drawing room, but which was not severe enough to prevent her from receiving such of her friends as she wished to see, in her pretty little sitting room hung with pale pink silk. She was lying back in a low chair, looking charming in a loose tea gown of cream silk and lace with ornaments of turquoise.
Her maid, a quiet, unobtrusive-looking young woman in black, was handing her lavender salts and a Pekinese puppy as Welton came in.
When the maid had retired, Lady Mirfield told him that she had made a note for him of all the wonderful sayings and prophecies of Fiammetta's which had come true. Welton, when he heard them all, was more than ever convinced that these prophecies were based on something more than guesswork, and that Miss Ferriby's emissaries were distributed among the ranks of the wealthy and idle ladies and men of the Metropolis.
He fulfilled his mission, therefore, by giving her a solemn caution. "If I were you," he said, "I wouldn't trust these fortune-tellers with too much of your personal history. Of course I have nothing to say about Miss Ferriby, as I have nothing to do with her fortune-telling. But I don't believe in miraculous powers, and I think it is always unwise to trust strangers with confidences of any sort."
Lady Mirfield looked interested but sceptical. And although in the resulting argument they had on the subject he got the best of it, he left her with an uneasy sense that he had done nothing to counteract the influence which he knew was to be dreaded.
He hastened back to The Lawns, where, as he had expected, he had another ordeal to go through. He went through it like a man, however, and did not flinch from the necessities of the position, making signs of devotion to the hunchback without ardour but with stolid persistency, which met more than its due reward in Miss Ferriby's extravagant responsiveness.
It was a great relief to him when a caller was announced, and although he sprang up in excitement, wondering whether it was really his father who had come, he was disappointed the next moment by hearing Miss Ferriby, on receiving a silent sign from Box, tell him to show the visitor upstairs.
Then she turned to Welton. Laying an affectionate hand on his arm she said, "It is only a man to have the signs read for him. I won't be ten minutes."
Welton would have seized the opportunity to take his leave, but she was out of the room too quickly, locking the door, as before, as she went through to the winding staircase.
Welton, rashly determined to risk another dangerous encounter rather than give up his investigations, at once went out into the grounds, passed round the angle at the house, and made his way towards the wing where the servants' quarters were.
He had seen two of the members of the household, and both of them he had met in the houses of other people. He was resolved to find out who were the other members of the gang.
Having tried the inner side of the wing on a previous occasion, he now tried to make his way round to the outer side. Passing close to a window which was whitened all over, he noted that there were four iron bars fastened in front of it. He paused for a moment before the window, and then saw it being slowly opened from the bottom, and a voice said in a subdued tone, "Wait a moment, Mr. Keynes."
There was no light behind the window, and it was only opened about four inches from the bottom by a hand which he could see was that of a woman. The voice, too, was a woman's. He stopped at once, and the voice spoke again, clearly for his ears alone.
"I want to warn you, Mr. Keynes," the voice said, "that you are behaving very foolishly. It's not safe to play a double game here. Either stand in with us, marry Miss Ferriby, and live like a fighting-cock, as we do. Or else sling your hook, and hold your tongue about us and her. Don't think you can keep in with her while you are warning outsiders against her. It won't do. Take my tip. I speak for the sake of your good-looking face. But I'm the only one here who doesn't want to tear your heart out and roast you alive. And they will too, if you don't look out!"
Down went the window softly, and Welton, without a word, staggered away. He had made the most ghastly and unexpected discovery of all. Before the unseen woman had got to the end of her warning speech, she had raised her voice just enough for him to recognize it as that of Lady Mirfield's trusted maid.
Truly the meshes of the Ferriby net were spread wide!
Miss Ferriby's Clients Page 13