And then?
Bah! Why anticipate such a terrible contretemps? he asked himself. Then he bit his under lip as he glanced at his enemy standing beneath the light of the rose-shaded lamp talking with madame, and afterwards turned again to laugh and chat with mademoiselle.
I lunched at the Junior United Service Club to-day with a friend of yours, he was saying; for she had risen from the piano and they had gone out upon the moon-lit verandah together, where, obtaining her permission, he lit a cigarette.
A friend of mine?
Captain Houghton, the British naval attaché at Rome. He is home for a months leave, and sent his compliments to you.
Oh, Freddie Houghton? she exclaimed. He was longing to get home all the winter, but couldnt get leave. Hes engaged, they say, and of course he wanted to see his enchantress. Hes the best dancer in Rome.
Then suddenly lowering his voice, he asked abruptly
Why is Borselli here? I had no idea he was to be a guest!
Ah! I know you dont like the fellow, she remarked, glancing back into the room. Neither do I. He is my fathers evil genius, I believe.
What makes you suspect that? inquired the Frenchman, with considerable interest.
Several circumstances, was her vague response, as she twisted her curious old snake bracelet, a genuine sixteenth-century ornament which she had bought one day in a shop on the Ponte Vecchio in Florence.
You mistrust him eh?
He poses as my fathers friend, but I believe that all the time he is jealous of his position and is his bitterest enemy.
But they are very old friends, are they not?
Oh yes. The general owes his present position entirely to my father; otherwise he would now be in garrison in some obscure country town.
I only wish he were, declared Dubard fervently. He is jealous of our friendship. Did you notice how he glared at me while you were singing?
And yet at table you were such good friends, she laughed.
It is not polite to exhibit ill-feeling in a friends house, mademoiselle, was his calm response. Yet I admit that I entertain no greater affection for the fellow than you do.
But why should he object to our friendship? she exclaimed. If he were unmarried, and in love with me, it would of course be different.
No, he said. He hates me.
Why?
Jules Dubard was silent, his dark eyes were fixed away across the moon-lit lawn.
Why? she repeated. Tell me!
Well, he has cause to hate me thats all, and he smiled mysteriously.
But hes a dangerous man, she declared, with quick apprehension. You probably dont know so much of him as I do. He would betray his own father if it suited his purpose.
I know, laughed the man drily. Ive heard sufficient stories concerning him to be quite well aware of his unscrupulous character. It is a thousand pities that he is an associate of your fathers.
Ah yes! she sighed. But how can it be avoided? They are in office in the same ministry, and are bound to be in constant touch with each other. The only thing I fear is that he has, by some intrigue, contrived to get my father in his power, she said confidentially.
How? What causes you to suspect such a thing? he inquired quickly.
Because once or twice of late I have noticed how when he has called in Rome and in Florence my father has been disinclined to see him, and that after the fellows departure he has seemed very thoughtful and preoccupied. More than once, too, Ive heard high words between them when theyve been closeted together in the study in Rome. I once heard him threaten my father, she added.
Threaten him! cried her companion quickly. What did the man say? Tell me. All that the girl was telling him was confirming what, in his heart, he already suspected.
Well, she said, in a low voice of confidence, it was early one morning, after the last court ball, and he had driven home with us. Afterwards my father had taken him to the study, and I had said good-night, when, on going to my room half an hour later, I found my maid very unwell. Therefore I went down again, intending to get from the study the key of the medicine cupboard, when I heard voices within, and naturally stopped to listen. I heard my father say distinctly, I wont. Ill never be a party to such a piece of audacious robbery why, its treason treason, do you hear? No, Angelo, not even you can induce me to betray my country! Then in reply I heard the general say, Very well. I have told you the course I intend to adopt. Your refusal places me in a critical situation, and I shall therefore save myself. At my expense? asked my father in a low, hoarse voice. Yes, the man replied. I shall certainly not fall without an effort to retain my place, my liberty, depend upon it. And when the truth is out regarding the Sazarac affair, this high moral standard that you are now adopting will avail you but little. Then there was a silence. At last my father asked in a tone of reproach, You actually intend to betray me, Angelo? you, who owe your rank, your position, everything to me! Tell me, you are surely joking? No, replied the fellow, I am in earnest. You must act as I have suggested, or take the consequences?
You are certain quite certain that Borselli mentioned the Sazarac affair? asked the Frenchman, in deep earnestness and surprise. I mean that you distinctly heard the name of Sazarac mentioned?
Distinctly. Why?
But the Frenchman made no reply. How could he tell her? What she had related revealed to him a strange and startling truth a truth which held him amazed, aghast.
Chapter Four
Contains a Mystery
In the rectors cosy little study at Thornby, George Macbean sat that same evening smoking his pipe, perplexed and puzzled.
In the zone of light shed by the green-shaded reading-lamp the rector, a stout, good-humoured, round-faced man of forty, sat writing a letter, while his nephew, lounging back in the old leather arm-chair before the fireplace, drew heavy whiffs at his pipe, with his eyes fixed straight upon the well-filled bookcase before him.
That day he had become a changed man.
From the first moment he had bowed to Mary Morini, when his uncle had introduced him at Orton, he had been struck by her marvellous grace and beauty, and this admiration had daily increased until now he was compelled to acknowledge within himself that he was deeply in love with her.
He smiled bitterly as the truth made itself manifest. He had been over head and ears in love with half a dozen women in his time, but he had always in a few weeks discovered their defects, their ambitions, and their lack of womanliness, without which a woman is no woman. He supposed it would be the same again, for he was not a man who wore his heart upon his sleeve.
And yet he had discovered that a mystery surrounded her a mystery that attracted him.
The dead quiet of the night was unbroken save for the scratching of the rectors pen, for the village of Thornby, like all agricultural villages, goes to bed early and rises with the dawn. The solemn bell in the old church-tower struck ten as Mr Sinclair scribbled the superscription, blotted it, and rose from the table to fill his own pipe.
Why, George, my boy, youre glum to-night. Whats the matter?
I really didnt know I was, laughed his nephew. I was only thinking. And I didnt want to disturb you.