CHAPTER XXIV
Hamel sat alone upon the terrace, his afternoon coffee on a small tablein front of him. His eyes were fixed upon a black speck at the end ofthe level roadway which led to the Tower. Only a few minutes before, Mr.Fentolin, in his little carriage, had shot out from the passage beneaththe terrace, on his way to the Tower. Behind him came Meekins, bendingover his bicycle. Hamel watched them both with thoughtful eyes. Therewere several little incidents in connection with their expedition whichhe scarcely understood.
Then there came at last the sound for which he had been listening, therustle of a skirt along the terraced way. Hamel turned quickly around,half rising to his feet, and concealing his disappointment withdifficulty. It was Mrs. Seymour Fentolin who stood there, a little dogunder each arm; a large hat, gay with flowers, upon her head. She worepatent shoes with high heels, and white silk stockings. She had, indeed,the air of being dressed for luncheon at a fashionable restaurant. Asshe stooped to set the dogs down, a strong waft of perfume was shakenfrom her clothes.
"Are you entirely deserted, Mr. Hamel?" she asked.
"I am," he replied. "Miss Esther went, I think, to look for you. Myhost," he added, pointing to the black speck in the distance, "begged meto defer my occupation of the Tower for an hour or so, and has gone downthere to collect some of his trifles."
Her eyes followed his outstretched hand. She seemed to him to shiver fora moment.
"You really mean, then, that you are going to leave us?" she asked,accepting the chair which he had drawn up close to his.
He smiled.
"Well, I scarcely came on a visit to St. David's Hall, did I?" hereminded her. "It has been delightfully hospitable of Mr. Fentolin tohave insisted upon my staying on here for these few days, but I couldnot possibly inflict myself upon you all for an unlimited period."
Mrs. Fentolin sat quite still for a time. In absolute repose, ifone could forget her mass of unnaturally golden hair, the forced andconstant smile, the too liberal use of rouge and powder, the nervousmotions of her head, it was easily to be realised that there were stillneglected attractions about her face and figure. Only, in these momentsof repose, an intense and ageing weariness seemed to have crept into hereyes and face. It was as though she had dropped the mask of incessantgaiety and permitted a glimpse of her real self to steal to the surface.
"Mr. Hamel," she said quietly, "I dare say that even during these fewdays you have realised that Mr. Fentolin is a very peculiar man."
"I have certainly observed--eccentricities," Hamel assented.
"My life, and the lives of my two children," she went on, "is devoted tothe task of ministering to his happiness."
"Isn't that rather a heavy sacrifice?" he asked. Mrs. Seymour Fentolinlooked down the long, narrow way along which Mr. Fentolin had passed.He was out of sight now, inside the Tower. Somehow or other, the thoughtseemed to give her courage and dignity. She spoke differently, withoutnervousness or hurry.
"To you, Mr. Hamel," she said, "it may seem so. We who make it know ofits necessity."
He bowed his head. It was not a subject for him to discuss with her.
"Mr. Fentolin has whims," she went on, "violent whims. We all try tohumour him. He has his own ideas about Gerald's bringing up. I do notagree with them, but we submit. Esther, too, suffers, perhaps to aless extent. As for me,"--her voice broke a little--"Mr. Fentolin likespeople around him who are always cheerful. He prefers even a certainstyle--of dress. I, too, have to do my little share."
Hamel's face grew darker.
"Has it ever occurred to you," he demanded, "that Mr. Fentolin is atyrant?"
She closed her eyes for a moment.
"There are reasons," she declared, "why I cannot discuss that with you.He has these strong fancies, and it is our task in life to humour them.He has one now with regard to the Tower, with regard to you. You are,of course, your own master. You can do as you choose, and you will doas you choose. Neither I nor my children have any claim upon yourconsideration. But, Mr. Hamel, you have been so kind that I feel movedto tell you this. It would make it very much easier for all of us if youwould give up this scheme of yours, if you would stay on here instead ofgoing to reside at the Tower."
Hamel threw away his cigarette. He was deeply interested.
"Mrs. Fentolin," he said, "I am glad to have you speak so plainly. Letme answer you in the same spirit. I am leaving this house mainly becauseI have conceived certain suspicions with regard to Mr. Fentolin. I donot like him, I do not trust him, I do not believe in him. Therefore,I mean to remove myself from the burden of his hospitality. There arereasons," he went on, "why I do not wish to leave the neighbourhoodaltogether. There are certain investigations which I wish to make. Thatis why I have decided to go to the Tower."
"Miles was right, then!" she cried suddenly. "You are here to spy uponhim!"
He turned towards her swiftly.
"To spy upon him, Mrs. Fentolin? For what reason? Why? Is he a criminal,then?"
She opened her lips and closed them again. There was a slight frown uponher forehead. It was obvious that the word had unintentionally escapedher.
"I only know what it is that he called you, what he suspects you ofbeing," she explained. "Mr. Fentolin is very clever, and he is generallyat work upon something. We do not enquire into the purpose of hislabours. The only thing I know is that he suspects you of wanting tosteal one of his secrets."
"Secrets? But what secrets has he?" Hamel demanded. "Is he an inventor?"
"You ask me idle questions," she sighed. "We have gone, perhaps, alittle further than I intended. I came to plead with you for all oursakes, if I could, to make things more comfortable by remaining hereinstead of insisting upon your claim to the Tower."
"Mrs. Fentolin," Hamel said firmly. "I like to do what I can to pleaseand benefit my friends, especially those who have been kind to me. Iwill be quite frank with you. There is nothing you could ask me which Iwould not do for your daughter's sake--if I were convinced that it wasfor her good."
Mrs. Seymour Fentolin seemed to be trembling a little. Her hands werecrossed upon her bosom.
"You have known her for so short a time," she murmured.
Hamel smiled confidently.
"I will not weary you," he said, "with the usual trite remarks. Iwill simply tell you that the time has been long enough. I love yourdaughter."
Mrs. Fentolin sat quite still. Only in her eyes, fixed steadilyseawards, there was the light of something new, as though some newthought was stirring in her brain. Her lips moved, although the soundwhich came was almost inaudible.
"Why not?" she murmured, as though arguing with some unseen critic ofher thoughts. "Why not?"
"I am not a rich man," Hamel went on, "but I am fairly well off. I couldafford to be married at once, and I should like--"
She turned suddenly upon him and gripped his wrist.
"Listen," she interrupted, "you are a traveller, are you not? You havebeen to distant countries, where white people go seldom; inaccessiblecountries, where even the arm of the law seldom reaches. Couldn't youtake her away there, take her right away, travel so fast that nothingcould catch you, and hide--hide for a little time?"
Hamel stared at his companion, for a moment, blankly. Her attitude wasso unexpected, her questioning so fierce.
"My dear Mrs. Fentolin," he began--.
She suddenly relaxed her grip of his arm. Something of the oldhopelessness was settling down upon her face. Her hands fell into herlap.
"No," she interrupted, "I forgot! I mustn't talk like that. She, too, ispart of the sacrifice."
"Part of the sacrifice," Hamel repeated, frowning. "Is she, indeed! Idon't know what sacrifice you mean, but Esther is the girl whom sooneror later, somehow or other, I am going to make my wife, and when she ismy wife, I shall see to it that she isn't afraid of Miles Fentolin or ofany other man breathing."
A gleam of hopefulness shone through the stony misery of the woman'sface.
"Does Esther care?"
she asked softly.
"How can I tell? I can only hope so. If she doesn't yet, she shall someday. I suppose," he added, with a sigh, "it is rather too soon yet toexpect that she should. If it is necessary, I can wait."
Mrs. Fentolin's eyes were once more fixed upon the Tower. The sun hadcaught the top of the telephone wire and played around it till it seemedlike a long, thin shaft of silver.
"If you go down there," she said, "Esther will not be allowed to see youat all. Mr. Fentolin has decided to take it as a personal affront. Youwill be ostracised from here."
"Shall I?" he answered. "Well, it won't be for long, at any rate. Andas to not seeing Esther, you must remember that I come from outsidethis little domain, and I see nothing more in Mr. Fentolin than abad-tempered, mischievous, tyrannical old invalid, who is fortunatelyprevented by his infirmities from doing as much mischief as he might.I am not afraid of your brother-in-law, or of the bully he takes aboutwith him, and I am going to see your daughter somehow or other, and I amgoing to marry her before very long."
She thrust out her hand suddenly and grasped his. The fingers were verythin, almost bony, and covered with rings. Their grip was feverish andhe felt them tremble.
"You are a brave man, Mr. Hamel," she declared speaking in a low, quickundertone. "Perhaps you are right. The shadow isn't over your head. Youhaven't lived in the terror of it. You may find a way. God grant it!"
She wrung his fingers and rose to her feet. Her voice suddenly changedinto another key. Hamel knew instinctively that she wished him tounderstand that their conversation was over.
"Chow-Chow," she cried, "come along, dear, we must have our walk. Comealong, Koto; come along, little dogs."
Hamel strolled down the terrace steps and wandered for a time in thegardens behind the house. Here, in the shelter of the great building, hefound himself suddenly in an atmosphere of springtime. There werebeds of crocuses and hyacinths, fragrant clumps of violets, borders ofsnowdrops, masses of primroses and early anemones. He slowly climbed oneor two steep paths until he reached a sort of plateau, level with thetop of the house. The flowers here grew more sparsely, the track of thesalt wind lay like a withering band across the flower-beds. The gardenbelow was like a little oasis of colour and perfume. Arrived at thebordering red brick wall, he turned around and looked along the narrowroad which led to the sea. There was no sign of Mr. Fentolin's return.Then to his left he saw a gate open and heard the clamour of dogs.Esther appeared, walking swiftly towards the little stretch of roadwhich led to the village. He hurried after her.
"Unsociable person!" he exclaimed, as he caught her up. "Didn't you knowthat I was longing for a walk?"
"How should I read your thoughts?" she answered. "Besides, a few minutesago I saw you on the terrace, talking to mother. I am only going as faras the village."
"May I come?" he asked. "I have business there myself."
She laughed.
"There are nine cottages, three farmhouses, and a general shop in St.David's," she remarked. "Also about fifteen fishermen's cottages dottedabout the marsh. Your business, I presume, is with the general shop?"
He shook his head, falling into step with her.
"What I want," he explained, "is to find a woman to come in and lookafter me at the Tower. Your servant who valets me has given me twonames."
Something of the lightness faded from her face.
"So you have quite made up your mind to leave us?" she asked slowly."Mother wasn't able to persuade you to stay?"
He shook his head.
"She was very kind," he said, "but there are really grave reasons whyI feel that I must not accept Mr. Fentolin's hospitality any longer. Ihad," he went on, "a very interesting talk with your mother."
She turned quickly towards him. The slightest possible tinge ofadditional colour was in her cheeks. She was walking on the top of agreen bank, with the wind blowing her skirts around her. The turn ofher head was a little diffident, almost shy. Her eyes were asking himquestions. At that moment she seemed to him, with her slim body, hergently parted lips and soft, tremulous eyes, almost like a child. Hedrew a little nearer to her.
"I told your mother," he continued, "all that I have told you, andmore. I told her, dear, that I cared for you, that I wanted you to be mywife."
She was caught in a little gust of wind. Both her hands went up to herhat; her face was hidden. She stepped down from the bank.
"You shouldn't have done that," she said quietly.
"Why not?" he demanded. "It was the truth."
He stooped forward, intent upon looking into her face. The mysticsoftness was still in her eyes, but her general expression wasinscrutable. It seemed to him that there was fear there.
"What did mother say?" she whispered.
"Nothing discouraging," he replied. "I don't think she minded at all. Ihave decided, if you give me permission, to go and talk to Mr. Fentolinthis evening."
She shook her head very emphatically.
"Don't!" she implored. "Don't! Don't give him another whip to lash uswith. Keep silent. Let me just have the memory for a few days all tomyself."
Her words came to him like numb things. There was little expression inthem, and yet he felt that somehow they meant so much.
"Esther dear," he said, "I shall do just as you ask me. At the sametime, please listen. I think that you are all absurdly frightened ofMr. Fentolin. Living here alone with him, you have all grown under hisdominance to an unreasonable extent. Because of his horrible infirmity,you have let yourselves become his slaves. There are limits to this sortof thing, Esther. I come here as a stranger, and I see nothing more inMr. Fentolin than a very selfish, irritable, domineering, and capriciousold man. Humour him, by all means. I am willing to do the same myself.But when it comes to the great things in life, neither he nor any livingperson is going to keep from me the woman I love."
She walked by his side in silence. Her breath was coming a littlequicker, her fingers lay passive in his. Then for a moment he felt thegrip of them almost burn into his flesh. Still she said nothing.
"I want your permission, dear," he went on, "to go to him. I suppose hecalls himself your guardian. If he says no, you are of age. I just wantyou to believe that I am strong enough to put my arms around you and tocarry you away to my own world and keep you there, although an army ofMr. Fentolin's creatures followed us."
She turned, and he saw the great transformation. Her face was brilliant,her eyes shone with wonderful things.
"Please," she begged, "will you say or do nothing at all for a littletime, until I tell you when? I want just a few days' peace. You havesaid such beautiful things to me that I want them to lie there in mythoughts, in my heart, undisturbed, for just a little time. You see, weare at the village now. I am going to call at this third cottage. WhileI am inside, you can go and make what enquiries you like. Come and knockat the door for me when you are ready."
"And we will walk back together?"
"We will walk back together," she promised him.
"I will take you home another way. I will take you over what they callthe Common, and come down behind the Hall into the gardens."
She dismissed him with a little smile. He strolled along the villagestreet and plunged into the mysterious recesses of the one tiny shop.
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