The Yellow Crayon

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

  CHAPTER XXXVIII

  The two women were alone in the morning-room of Lady Carey's house inPont Street. Lucille was walking restlessly up and down twisting herhandkerchief between her fingers. Lady Carey was watching her, morecomposed, to all outward appearance, but with closely compressed lips,and boding gleam in her eyes.

  "I think," Lady Carey said, "that you had better see him."

  Lucille turned almost fiercely upon her.

  "And why?"

  "Well, for one thing he will not understand your refusal. He may besuspicious."

  "What does it matter? I have finished with him. I have done all that Ipledged myself to. What more can be expected of me? I do not wish to seehim again."

  Lady Carey laughed.

  "At least," she said, "I think that the poor man has a right toreceive his conge from you. You cannot break with him without a word ofexplanation. Perhaps--you may not find it so easy as it seems."

  Lucille swept around.

  "What do you mean?"

  Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.

  "You are in a curious mood, my dear Lucille. What I mean is obviousenough. Brott is a strong man and a determined man. I do not think thathe will enjoy being made a fool of."

  Lucille was indifferent.

  "At any rate," she said, "I shall not see him. I have quite made up mymind about that."

  "And why not, Countess?" a deep voice asked from the threshold. "Whathave I done? May I not at least know my fault?"

  Lady Carey rose and moved towards the door.

  "You shall have it out between yourselves," she declared, looking up,and nodding at Brott as she passed. "Don't fight!"

  "Muriel!"

  The cry was imperative, but Lady Carey had gone. Mr. Brott closed thedoor behind him and confronted Lucille. A brilliant spot of colourflared in her pale cheeks.

  "But this is a trap!" she exclaimed. "Who sent for you? Why did youcome?"

  He looked at her in surprise.

  "Lucille!"

  His eyes were full of passionate remonstrance. She looked nervously fromhim towards the door. He intercepted her glance.

  "What have I done?" he asked fiercely. "What have I failed to do? Whydo you look as though I had forced myself upon you? Haven't I the right?Don't you wish to see me?"

  In Brott's face and tone was all the passionate strenuousness of a greatcrisis. Lucille felt suddenly helpless before the directness of hisgaze, his storm of questions. In all their former intercourse it hadbeen she who by virtue of her sex and his blind love for her had keptthe upper hand. And now the position was changed. All sorts of feebleexplanations, of appeals to him, occurred to her dimly, only tobe rejected by reason of their ridiculous inadequacy. She wassilent-abjectly silent.

  He came a little closer to her, and the strength of the man was manifestin his intense self-restraint. His words were measured, his tone quiet.Yet both somehow gave evidence of the smouldering fires beneath.

  "Lucille," he said, "I find you hard to understand to-day. You havemade me your slave, you came once more into my life at its most criticalmoment, and for your sake I have betrayed a great trust. My conscience,my faith, and although that counts for little, my political career, werein the balance against my love for you. You know which conquered. Atyour bidding I have made myself the jest of every man who buys thehalfpenny paper and calls himself a politician. My friends heap abuseupon me, my enemies derision. I cannot hold my position in this newCabinet. I had gone too far for compromise. I wonder if you quiteunderstand what has happened?"

  "Oh, I have heard too much," she cried. "Spare me the rest."

  He continued as though he had not heard her.

  "Men who have been my intimate associates for many years, and whosefriendship was dear to me, cross the road to avoid: meeting me, day byday I am besieged with visitors and letters from the suffering peopleto whom my word had been pledged, imploring me for some explanation, forone word of denial. Life has become a hell for me, a pestilent, militanthell! Yet, Lucille, unless you break faith with me I make no complaint.I am content."

  "I am very sorry," she said. "I do not think that you have properlyunderstood me. I have never made you any promise."

  For a moment he lost control of himself. She shrank back at the blazeof indignation, half scornful, half incredulous, which lit up his clear,grey eyes.

  "It is a lie!" he answered. "Between you and me it can be no questionof words. You were always very careful of your pledges, but there arelimits even to your caution--as to my forbearance. A woman does not aska man who is pleading to her for her love to give up everything elsehe cares for in life without hope of reward. It is monstrous! I neversought you under false pretenses. I never asked you for your friendship.I wanted you. I told you so plainly. You won't deny that you gave mehope--encouraged me? You can't even deny that I am within my rights if Iclaim now at this instant the reward for my apostasy."

  Her hands were suddenly locked in his. She felt herself being drawn intohis arms. With a desperate effort she avoided his embrace. He still heldher left wrist, and his face was dark with passion.

  "Let me go!" she pleaded.

  "Not I!" he answered, with an odd, choked little laugh. "You belong tome. I have paid the price. I, too, am amongst the long list of thosepoor fools who have sold their gods and their honour for a woman's kiss.But I will not be left wholly destitute. You shall pay me for what Ihave lost."

  "Oh, you are mad!" she answered. "How could you have deceived yourselfso? Don't you know that my husband is in London?"

  "The man who calls himself Mr. Sabin?" he answered roughly. "What hasthat to do with it? You are living apart. Saxe Leinitzer and the Duchesshave both told me the history of your married life. Or is the wholething a monstrous lie?" he cried, with a sudden dawning sense of thetruth. "Nonsense! I won't believe it. Lucille! You're not afraid! Ishall be good to you. You don't doubt that. Sabin will divorce you ofcourse. You won't lose your friends. I--"

  There was a sudden loud tapping at the door. Brott dropped her wristand turned round with an exclamation of anger. To Lucille it was aHeaven-sent interposition. The Prince entered, pale, and with signs ofhurry and disorder about his usually immaculate person.

  "You are both here," he exclaimed. "Good! Lucille, I must speak with youurgently in five minutes. Brott, come this way with me."

  Lucille sank into a chair with a little murmur of relief. The Prince ledBrott into another room, and closed the door carefully behind him.

  "Mr. Brott," he said, "can I speak to you as a friend of Lucille's?"

  Brott, who distrusted the Prince, looked him steadily in the face. SaxeLeinitzer's agitation was too apparent to be wholly assumed. He had allthe appearance of being a man desperately in earnest.

  "I have always considered myself one," Brott answered. "I ambeginning to doubt, however, whether the Countess holds me in the sameestimation."

  "You found her hysterical, unreasonable, overwrought!" the Princeexclaimed. "That is so, eh?"

  The Prince drew a long breath.

  "Brott," he said, "I am forced to confide in you. Lucille is in terribledanger. I am not sure that there is anybody who can effectually helpher but you. Are you prepared to make a great sacrifice for her sake--toleave England at once, to take her to the uttermost part of the world?"

  Brott's eyes were suddenly bright. The Prince quailed before thefierceness of his gaze.

  "She would not go!" he exclaimed sharply.

  "She will," the Prince answered. "She must! Not only that, but you willearn her eternal gratitude. Listen, I must tell you the predicament inwhich we find ourselves. It places Lucille's life in your hands."

  "What?"

  The exclamation came like a pistol shot. The Prince held up his hand.

  "Do not interrupt. Let me speak. Every moment is very valuable. Youheard without doubt of the sudden death at the Carlton Hotel. It tookplace in Mr. Sabin's sitting-room. The victim was Mr. Sabin's servant.The inquest was this afternoon. The verdic
t was death from the effectof poison. The police are hot upon the case. There was no evidence asto the person by whom the poison was administered, but by a hideouscombination of circumstances one person before many hours have passedwill be under the surveillance of the police."

  "And that person?" Brott asked.

  The Prince looked round and lowered his voice, although the room wasempty.

  "Lucille," he whispered hoarsely.

  Brott stepped backwards as though he were shot.

  "What damned folly!" he exclaimed.

  "It is possible that you may not think so directly," Saxe Leinitzercontinued. "The day it happened Lucille bought this same poison, and itis a rare one, from a man who has absconded. An hour before this man wasfound dead, she called at the hotel, left no name, but went upstairsto Mr. Sabin's room, and was alone there for five minutes, The man diedfrom a single grain of poison which had been introduced into Mr. Sabin'sspecial liqueur glass, out of which he was accustomed to drink three orfour times a day. All these are absolute facts, which at any moment maybe discovered by the police. Added to that she is living apart from herhusband, and is known to be on bad terms with him."

  Brott as gripping the back of a chair. He was white to the lips.

  "You don't think," he cried hoarsely. "You can't believe--"

  "No" the Prince answered quickly, "I don't believe anything of the sort.I will tell you as man to man that I believe she wished Mr. Sabin dead.You yourself should know why. But no, I don't believe she went so faras that. It was an accident. But what we have to do is to save her. Willyou help?"

  "Yes."

  "She must cross to the Continent to-night before the police get on thescent. Afterwards she must double back to Havre and take the Bordlaisefor New York on Saturday. Once there I can guarantee her protection."

  "Well?"

  "She cannot go alone."

  "You mean that I should go with her?"

  "Yes! Get her right away, and I will employ special detectives and havethe matter cleared up, if ever it can be. But if she remains here Ifear that nothing can save her from the horror of an arrest, even ifafterwards we are able to save her. You yourself risk much, Brott. Theonly question that remains is, will you do it?"

  "At her bidding--yes!" Brott declared.

  "Wait here," the Prince answered.