The Shadow of the Rope

by E. W. Hornung

  CHAPTER XIX

  RACHEL'S CHAMPION

  The immediate ordeal proved less trying than Langholm was prepared tofind it. His vivid imagination had pictured the long table, laid forsix-and-twenty, with four persons huddled at one end; but the telegramshad come in time to have the table reduced to its normal size, andLangholm found a place set for him between Mrs. Woodgate and Mrs. Steel.He was only embarrassed when Rachel rose and looked him in the eyesbefore holding out her hand.

  "Have you heard?" she asked him, in a voice as cold as her marble face,but similarly redeemed and animated by its delicate and distant scorn.

  "Yes," answered Langholm, sadly; "yes, I have heard."

  "And yet--"

  He interrupted her in another tone.

  "I know what you are going to say! I give you warning, Mrs. Steel, Iwon't listen to it. No 'and yets' for me; remember the belief I had,long before I knew anything at all! It ought not to be a whit strongerfor what I guessed yesterday for myself, and what your husband has thisminute confirmed. Yet it is, if possible, ten thousand times strongerand more sure!"

  "I do remember," said Rachel, slowly; "and, in my turn, I believe whatyou say."

  But her face did not alter as she took his hand; her own was so coldthat he looked at her in alarm; and the whole woman seemed turned tostone. Yet the dinner went on without further hitch; it might have beenthe very smallest and homeliest affair, to which only these guests hadbeen invited. Indeed, the menu had been reduced, like the table, by theunerring tact of Rachel's husband, so that there was no undue memorialto the missing one-and-twenty, and the whole ordeal was curtailed.

  There was, on the other hand, no blinking what had happened, no pretenceof ignoring the one subject which was in everybody's thoughts. Thus Mrs.Woodgate exclaimed aloud, what she was thinking to herself, that shewould never speak to Mrs. Venables again in all her life, and herhusband told her across the table that she had better not. Rachelthereupon put in her word, to the effect that the Woodgates would cutthemselves off from everybody if they made enemies of all whodisbelieved in her, and she could not allow them to do anything of thekind. Steel, again, speculated upon the probable behavior of theUniackes and the Invernesses, neither of these distinguished familieshaving been invited to the dinner, for obvious reasons arising fromtheir still recent return to the country. There was no effort to ignorethe absorbing topic before the butler and his satellites, but the linewas drawn in the right place, excluding as it did any reference to therout of Mrs. Venables, and indeed all details whatsoever.

  The butler, however, and in a less degree the footman, presented arather interesting study during the course of this momentous meal, hadthe professional observer present been only a little less concerned forhis hostess. The butler was a pompous but capable creature, whom Steelhad engaged when he bought the place. Though speedily reduced to a morerespectful servitude than he was accustomed to, the man had long sinceceased to complain of his situation, which carried with it the highestwages and all arbitrary powers over his subordinates. On the steps, ather deferred departure, Mrs. Venables had screamed the secret of hismistress's identity into the butler's ear. The butler had risen withdignity to the occasion, and, after a brief interview, resigned on thespot with all his men. The mild interest was in the present behavior ofthese gentry, which was a rich blend of dignity and depression, andbetrayed a growing doubt as to whether the sinking ship, that they hadbeen so eager to abandon, was really sinking after all.

  Certainly the master's manner could not have been very different at thehead of his table as originally laid. It was not festive, it was neitherunnaturally jocular nor showy in any way, but it was delightfullyconfident and serene. And the mistress was as calm in her way, thoughfor once hers was the colder way, and it was the opinion of the pantrythat she felt more than she showed; without a doubt Mrs. Woodgate hadmore work to restrain, now her tears for Rachel, and now her consumingindignation with the absentees.

  "Your wife feels it as much as mine," said Steel to the vicar, when thegentlemen were alone at last; and one of them could have struck him forthe speech, one who had insight and could feel himself.

  "I wouldn't go so far as that," the good vicar rejoined. "But Mornafeels it dreadfully. Dreadfully she feels it!"

  "I almost wish we had kept the table as it was," pursued Steel over hiscigar, "and had one of those flash-light photographs taken, as they doat all the twopenny banquets nowadays. All that was left of them--leftof six-and-twenty!"

  His flippant tone made Langholm writhe, and drove him into theconversation to change its tenor. He asked by whom the evil had come."Surely not the judge?"

  "No," said Steel, with emphasis. "Not that I have it for a fact, but Iwould put a thousand pounds upon his charity and his discretion in sucha matter. A kinder and a sounder man does not exist, though I say it whonever met him in my life. But I heard every word of my wife's trial, andI know the way the judge took the case. There were a heap of womenwitnesses, and her counsel was inclined to bully them; it was delightfulto see the fatherly consideration that they received as compensationfrom the bench."

  Langholm's breath was taken away. Here was an end to the likeliesttheory that he had evolved that morning among his roses. Steel had notmarried his wife in ignorance of her life's tragedy; he had beenpresent, and probably fallen in love with her, at her trial! Then whydid he never behave as though he were in love? And why must he expatiateupon the judge's kindness to the female witnesses, instead of on thegrand result of the trial over which he had presided? Did Steel himselfentertain the faintest doubt about the innocence of his wife, whosetrial he had heard, and whom he had married thereafter within a fewmonths at the most? Langholm's brain buzzed, even while he listened towhat Hugh Woodgate was saying.

  "I am not surprised," remarked the vicar. "I remember once hearing thatSir Baldwin Gibson and Lord Edgeware were the two fairest judges on thebench; and why, do you suppose? Because they are both old athletes andOld Blues, trained from small boys to give their opponents everypossible chance!"

  Steel nodded an understanding assent. Langholm, however, who was betterqualified to appreciate the vicar's point, took no notice of it.

  "If it was not the judge," said he, "who in the world is it who hassprung this mine, I saw them meet, and as a matter of fact I did guessthe truth. But I had special reasons. I had thought, God forgive me, ofmaking something out of your wife's case, Steel, little dreaming it washers, though I knew it had no ordinary fascination for her. But no oneelse can have known that."

  "You talked it over with her, however?"

  And Steel had both black eyes upon the novelist, who made his innocentadmission with an embarrassment due entirely to their unnecessarilypiercing scrutiny.

  "You talked it over with her," repeated Steel, this time in drystatement of fact, "at least on one occasion, in the presence of a ladywho had a prior claim upon your conversation. That lady was Mrs. Vinson,and it is she who ought to have a millstone hanged about her neck, andbe cast into the sea. Don't look as though you deserved the same fate,Langholm! It would have been better, perhaps, if you had paid moreattention to Vinson's wife and less to mine; but she is the last womanin the world to blame you--naturally! And now, if you are ready, we willjoin them, Woodgate."

  Sensitive as all his tribe, and himself both gentle by nature andconsiderate of others according to his lights, which thoughtlessnessmight turn down or passion blur, but which burned steadily and brightlyin the main, Charles Langholm felt stung to the soul by the last fewwords, in which Hugh Woodgate noticed nothing amiss. Steel's tone wasnot openly insulting, but rather that of banter, misplaced perhaps, andin poor taste at such a time, yet ostensibly good-natured and innocentof ulterior meaning. But Langholm was not deceived. There was anulterior meaning to him, and a very unpleasant one withal. Yet he didnot feel unjustifiably insulted; he looked within, and felt justlyrebuked; not for anything he had said or done, but for what he found inhis heart at that moment. Langholm entered the drawing
-room in profounddepression, but his state of mind was no longer due to anything that hadjust been said.

  The scene awaiting him was surely calculated to deepen that dejection.Rachel had left the gentlemen with the proud mien and the unbrokenspirit which she had maintained at table without trace of effort; theyfound her sobbing on Morna Woodgate's shoulder, in distress so poignantand so pitiful that even Steel stopped short upon the threshold. In aninstant she was on her feet, the tears still thick in her noble eyes,but the spirit once more alight behind the tears.

  "Don't go!" she begged them, in a voice that pierced one heart at least."Stop and help me, for God's sake! I can't bear it. I am not strongenough. I can only pretend to bear it, for an hour, before the servants.Even that has almost maddened me, the effort, and the shame."

  "The shame is on others," said Steel, gravely enough now, "and not onyou. And who are those others, I should like to know? And what does itmatter what they think or say? A hole-and-corner district like this isnot the world!"

  Rachel shook her head sadly; her beautiful eyes were dry now, and onlythe more lustrous for the tears that they had shed. Langholm saw nothingelse.

  "But it is the world," she asserted. "It is part of the world, and thesame thing would happen in any other part. It would happen in London,and everywhere else as soon as I became known. And henceforth I mean tobe known!" cried Rachel, wilfully; "there shall be no more hiding who Iwas, or am; that is the way to make them think the worst when they findout. But is it not disgraceful? I was acquitted, and yet I am to betreated as though I had been merely pardoned. Is that not a disgrace tocommon humanity?"

  "Humanity is not so common as you imagine," remarked Steel.

  "It is un-Christian!" cried Hugh Woodgate, with many repetitions of theepithet.

  Langholm said nothing. His eyes never left Rachel's face. Neither didshe meet them for an instant, nor had she a look for Hugh Woodgate oreven for his wife. It was to her husband that Rachel had spoken everyword; it was nearest him she stood, in his face only that she gazed.

  "Are you going to let the disgrace continue?" she asked him, fiercely.

  His answer was natural enough.

  "My dear Rachel, what can I do? I never dreamt that it would come outhere; it is by the merest fluke that it did."

  "But I want it to come out," cried Rachel; "if you mean the fact of mytrial and my acquittal. It was a mistake ever to hide either for amoment. Henceforth they shall be no secret."

  "Then we cannot prevent the world from thinking and saying what itlikes, however uncharitable and unjust. Do be reasonable, and listen toreason, though God knows you can be in no mood for such cold comfort!But I have done my best; I will do my best again. I will sell this placeto-morrow. We will go right away somewhere else."

  "And then the same thing will happen there! Is that all you can suggest,you who married me after hearing with your own ears every scrap ofevidence that they could bring against me?"

  "Have you anything better to suggest yourself, Rachel?"

  "I have," she answered, looking him full and sternly in the face, inthe now forgotten presence of their three guests. "Find out who _is_guilty, if you really want people to believe that I am not!"

  Steel did not start, though there came a day when one at least of thelistening trio felt honestly persuaded that he had; as a matter of fact,his lips came more closely together, while his eyes searched those ofhis wife with a wider stare than was often seen in them, but for two orthree seconds at most, before dropping in perplexity to the floor.

  "How can I, Rachel?" her husband asked quietly, indeed gently, yet withlittle promise of acquiescence in his tone. "I am not a detective, afterall."

  But that was added for the sake of adding something, and was enough toprove Steel ill at ease, to the wife who knew him as no man ever had.

  "A detective, no!" said she, readily enough. "But you are a rich man;you could employ detectives; you could clear your wife, if you liked."

  "Rachel, you know very well that you are cleared already."

  "That is your answer, then!" she cried scornfully, and snatched her eyesfrom him at last, without waiting for a denial. She was done with him,her face said plainly; he looked at her a moment, then turned aside witha shrug.

  But Rachel's eyes went swiftly round the room; they alighted for aninstant upon Morna Woodgate, leaning forward upon the sofa where theyhad sat together, eager, enthusiastic, but impotent as a woman must be;they passed over the vicar, looking stolid as usual, and more than alittle puzzled; but at last they rested on Langholm's thin, stoopingfigure, with untidy head thrust forward towards her, and a light in hisdreamy eyes that kindled a new light in her own.

  "You, Mr. Langholm!" cried Rachel, taking a quick, short step in hisdirection. "You, with your plots and your problems that nobody cansolve; don't you think you could unravel this one for me?"

  Her eyes were radiant now, and their radiance all for him. Langholm feltthe heart swimming in his body, the brain in his head. A couple oflong-legged strides to meet her nine-tenths of the way, and he had takenRachel's hand before her husband and her friends.

  "Before God," said Langholm, "I'll try!"

  Their hands met only to part. There was a sardonic laugh from Rachel'shusband.

  "Do you forbid me?" demanded Langholm, turning upon him.

  "Far from it," said Steel. "I shall be most interested to see you go towork."

  "Is that a challenge?"

  The two men faced each other, while the third man and the women lookedon. It had sounded like a challenge to all but the vicar, though neitherof the others had had time to think so before they heard the word andrecognized its justice.

  "If you like," said Steel, indifferently.

  "I accept it as such," rejoined Langholm, dogging the other with hiseyes. "And find him I will--the guilty man--if I never write anotherline--and if the villain is still alive!"