The Mystery of the Ravenspurs

by Fred M. White

  CHAPTER X

  A LITTLE SUNSHINE

  After luncheon, Geoffrey was leaning over the stone balustrade of theterrace waiting for Vera. Beyond a slight restlessness and extrabrilliancy of the eye she was better. She had proposed a ramble alongthe cliffs and Geoffrey had assented eagerly.

  His anxiety was fading away like the ashes of his cigarette. At first hehad been inclined to imagine that Vera's indisposition had been a moveon the part of the unseen foe. But he put this idea from him asillogical. The enemy was not in the habit of using the gloved hand likethis. He struck down fiercely and remorselessly.

  "No," Geoffrey murmured aloud; "Vera could not have been spared!"

  A gentle hand was laid upon his arm. Marion stood beside him. They werealone at that angle of the terrace and unseen from the house.

  "You are right," said Marion. "Don't worry about that any more."

  Geoffrey nodded approvingly. He slipped his arm round Marion's waist andkissed her in a brotherly fashion. Marion inclined toward him withhalf-closed eyes and a brightened color. Her limbs trembled; thepressure of her lips was warm and sweet.

  "Dear little sister," Geoffrey murmured. "What should we do withoutyou?"

  Marion drew herself away abruptly. She rested her clasped hands over thestone balcony so that Geoffrey should not see their unsteadiness; herflushed face was half averted. It was a taking, a perfect picture.

  "What would Vera say?" she asked.

  "As if Vera would mind! Don't we all love you the same? And how manytimes has Vera seen me kiss you? If there were no Vera, little sister,then you may be sure that I should have kissed you in a different way!"

  Marion laughed at the easy impertinence. That Geoffrey had no real loveor passion for anybody but Vera she knew perfectly well. She laughedagain, but there was nothing spontaneous in it; indeed, anybody but ayouthful egotist in love could have detected a certain jarring note ofpain.

  "Here is Vera," said Geoffrey. "Let us ask her."

  They put it to her merrily. They might have been in a world beyond allsorrow or suffering. The music of their fresh young voices floated inthe air. Then Marion bent over the balustrade and watched the lovers outof sight. Her face grew hard; a veil of heavy years seemed to havefallen over it.

  "If he only knew!" she said; "if he only knew! Why are clever peopleoften so foolish? And why do they commit follies with their eyes wideopen? Well, it doesn't matter, for you will never know, dear Geoffrey,how passionately and devotedly I love you. And you never, never knowwhen temptation and inclination and opportunity go together. And I don'tbelieve that anybody could resist temptation if he or she were certainnot to be found out!"

  "I am perfectly sure they wouldn't."

  Marion turned with a stifled cry on her lips. Ralph Ravenspur was behindher. The expression on his face was wooden and emotionless.

  "I hope you have not been listening to me," she said reproachfully.

  "I have been watching you, or rather feeling your presence for sometime." Ralph admitted. "I have been here since those young people wentaway. But you said nothing; at least nothing I heard until that bit ofworldly wisdom dropped from your lips."

  "It was an unworthy thought, Uncle Ralph."

  "It might be unworthy of you, my dear, but I fancy it is true. Even thevery best of people give way to temptation. Put it away from you; don'tdwell upon your temptation, or it may get you into trouble."

  "My temptation! Do you mean to say you know what it is?"

  "I do," said Ralph. "You are deeply in love with your cousin Geoffrey.There is wild blood in your veins, and that blood will out unless youkeep your feelings well under control. Ah, you may stare and lookdismayed, which I am sure you are doing although I cannot see you. Yes,there is always the temptation to pray that the family foe might removeVera from your path."

  A piteous cry came from Marion's lips. Who was this man who knew so muchand could probe her secret soul? Yet he was blind; he could not see. Wasit possible that some such horrible thoughts had crossed Marion's mind?Atrocious thoughts will come to the best of us unasked for, unsought.

  "Oh, you are cruel!" she said.

  "Perhaps I am," Ralph admitted. "You see, I live in a dark world of myown and I have small belief in the virtues of my fellow-creatures. Butyou are an angel and I have amused myself by searing your wings."

  "Is that because you think my secret is a shameful one?"

  "Not in the least. Who can help the wayward driftings of a woman'sheart? And, anyway, your secret is safe with me."

  He felt for Marion's fingers and put them to his lips. Before the girlcould reply he had drifted away, apparently feeling his way into space.And for a long time Marion stood there gazing out to sea.

  Meanwhile the lovers had forgotten everything but the beauty of the day,and that the world was for themselves alone. The sun shone for them,for them the blue sea thundered in white battalions against the cliffs;for them the lark poured out its song at the gate of heaven, and theheather bloomed on moor and headland.

  They strolled along until they came to a favored spot where the gorseflowered in yellow fires, and the crushed wild thyme was pungent undertheir feet. Here Geoffrey threw himself on the turf and Vera reclined byhis side.

  He could touch her hands and toy with the little ripples of her hair. Towatch the play of those pretty features and look back the love he saw inthose great starry eyes was a thing without alloy.

  "Ah, me, if we could always be like this!" Vera said.

  "You and I would be happy in any circumstances," said Geoffreythoughtfully. "Only I should like to see something of the world."

  "What, go away and leave me all alone, dearest?"

  Geoffrey smiled at this innocent coquetry. He touched the smooth satincheek caressingly. Vera only wanted him to disclaim any such intentionand he knew it, too. There was no deception about the matter, but theywere none the less happy for that.

  "Of course not," Geoffrey declared. "I should take you with me whereverI went. If we could only get the bar removed I should like to travel. Ishould like to see men and cities, and measure my strength with myfellows. I should like to go into Parliament. Ah, if we could only getthe bar removed!"

  "If we only could," Vera sighed. "But I can't imagine that they willtouch us. We are so young and so innocent of wrong-doing. And yet thismorning----"

  Vera paused, half afraid of betraying Ralph Ravenspur's confidence.

  "Only this morning you were a bit afraid. Confess it."

  "I was, Geoff. I felt strange when I awoke in the night. I felt cold andlike death when I awoke to-day, and then I fainted."

  "But you are all right now, darling," Geoff said anxiously.

  "Yes, dear, I never felt better. Still, it was a strange thingaltogether. I was well when I went to bed, but in the night I had acurious dream. It seemed to me that I was lying half asleep with asingular pricking sensation of my lips and face. And then an angel camedown and laid some white powder on my pillow, a white powder that lookedlike a mixture of salt and powdered glass. Almost immediately the painceased and I slept again. Then I awoke finally and had that faintingfit. Don't you think it was a queer thing?"

  "Yes, but what had the dream and the powder to do with it, little girl?"

  "I was coming to that, Geoff. After I got better I remembered my dreamand looked at the pillow. You smile, thinking that only a woman would dothat. Sure enough there was some trace of gritty powder there, and Icollected it in a tissue paper. Directly I got it to the light half ofit melted; it seemed to dissolve in light like water. And here it is."

  Vera produced a tiny packet from her pocket and opened it. There wereseveral grains of some sharp powder there which, as Geoffrey held themin his hand, dissolved to nothingness. His face was very pale.

  "Darling, this is a dreadful thing," he murmured. "I fancy----"

  He paused, fearful of alarming Vera. He saw the hand of fate in this; hesaw the sword that was hanging over that beloved young life.

&n
bsp; A passion of anger and despair filled him, but for Vera's sake hechecked the feeling. And it seemed to him as if he had passed in aminute down a decade of years; as if in that brief space he had left hisboyhood behind and become a man.

  "This must be looked into," he said sternly. "Every precaution----"

  "Has been taken," Vera said quietly. "We have a protector among us,dearest. One who is worth all the precautions put together. Do not fearfor me and do not ask me any questions, because I must not answer them.But I am safe."

  Geoffrey nodded. The cloud slowly lifted from his forehead. Vera wasspeaking of her uncle Ralph and there was no reason to ask anyquestions. Was it possible, Geoffrey wondered, that Ralph Ravenspur hadgone to the heart of the mystery, that it was wrapped up in his life,and that he had come home to solve it?

  But of this he said nothing. He resolved to render every assistance.This vile thing was the work of earthly hands and earthly ingenuitycould solve it. Never was there cipher invented that was incapable ofsolution.

  Geoffrey drew Vera to his side and kissed her passionately. For a littletime she lay in his arms in absolute content. Her smiling eyes wereclear, her features placid. In any case she feared no unseen danger.There must be some great sheltering power behind her, or she had neverlooked so sweet and placid as that.

  "I could not do without you, darling," Geoffrey said.

  "And you are not going to do without me," Vera smiled. "There is muchyet to be done, but it is going to be accomplished, dearest. Somethingtells me that the hour of our freedom is at hand. And something alsotells me, Geoff, that you are going to have a great deal to do with it."

  They came back at length up the slope leading to the castle. And thereRalph came upon them in his own noiseless, mysterious fashion. He clungto them until Vera had entered the house and then led Geoffrey to theterrace.

  "There is nobody within earshot of us?" he demanded.

  Geoffrey assured him that there was not. He was impressed with theearnestness of his uncle's manner. He had never seen him so movedbefore.

  "Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked.

  "Much," was the whispered reply. "If you are bold and resolute."

  "I am, I am. I would lay down my life as the martyrs of old did to solvethe mystery."

  "Ah," Ralph said, in a dry, croaking whisper. "I felt sure I could trustyou. There is a great danger and it is near. In that danger I want apair of eyes. Lend me yours."

  "Dear uncle, I will do anything you please."

  "Good. I like the ring in your voice. At half-past eleven to-night Iwill come to your room. There I will confide in you. Till then, absolutesilence."