But you shall not. Ha! ha! ha!" she laughed hysterically. "We are enemies now; you and I. Well, let it remain so."
"It must be so if you desire it," I answered briefly, and not desiring to prolong the interview, I bowed and turning upon my heel, strode from the room, closing the door behind me.
As I stepped into the hall I encountered a person so suddenly that I almost stumbled over him, yet so quickly did he motion me to silence, that my expression of surprise died from my lips. The appearance of the man under these circ.u.mstances was certainly as unexpected as it was puzzling, for it was none other than the Earl of Fyneshade. It was not surprising that he should loiter in his own house, attired in hat and coat, but it was more than pa.s.sing strange that while his wife was deploring the fact that he had deserted her, and that a scandal would thereby be created, he had actually been standing at the door, and in all probability listening to a conversation which must have been intensely interesting.
This thought flashed in an instant upon me. If he had overheard his wife"s appeal would it not convince him more than ever that his suspicions were justifiable? Yet a few moments later, when he motioned me to step into an adjoining room, the door of which he closed quietly and turned to me in a manner quite friendly and affable, these fears were at once dispelled. Evidently he had heard nothing, for in explanation of his mysterious conduct he told me that he wished his wife to believe he was out of town, and that he had entered with his latch-key in order to obtain some money.
"I was afraid you would greet me aloud," he said laughing. "Fortunately you didn"t. The fact is Mabel and I have had some little differences, and for the present our relations are rather strained. Did she ask you to call?"
"Yes," I replied; adding, "she wanted to speak to me about Dora."
"Ah! poor Dora!" Fyneshade exclaimed rather sadly. "Most lamentable affair that engagement of hers. She"s a charming girl, but I"m afraid the course of true love will not run very smoothly for her!"
"Why?"
"Well, Bethune is hardly the man one would wish for a husband for one"s daughter," he answered. "There are ugly rumours afloat regarding his sudden disappearance."
"But he has now returned to face his traducers," I answered hastily.
"Yes, yes, I know. But does not his uneasiness strike you as--well, at least as curious?"
His words were an admission that he suspected Jack. Had Mabel, I wondered, told him of her suspicions?
"I really don"t know," I said, with affected indifference. He smiled rather incredulously, I thought, and lowering his voice, evidently fearing that he might be overheard, he inquired--
"There is a question I want to ask you, Stuart. Are you acquainted with a man named Markwick?"
"He is not an acquaintance of mine," I answered promptly, determined to show no sign of surprise. "I have seen him at Thackwell"s, but have only spoken to him twice."
"Do you know who he really is?" he asked, with a strange intensity of tone that surprised me.
"I"ve known him as Markwick, but if he has another name I am utterly unaware of it. To me he has always appeared a rather shady individual whose past is veiled by obscurity."
"And to me also. For weeks I"ve been trying to discover who the fellow really is, but no one knows. He has been living at the Victoria recently, and before that he made the Savoy his headquarters. He appears to have plenty of money, but according to the information I have gathered, his movements are most erratic, and their object a profound mystery. He met my wife at some reception or another and called on her the other day." Then, bending toward me he asked: "Do you think--I mean--well, would you suspect him of being a detective?"
I regarded him keenly. His question was a strange one.
"No," I replied. "From my observations I feel perfectly confident that he is not a detective. He is more likely an adventurer."
"Are you absolutely sure he is not connected with the police?"
"I feel certain he"s not," I answered. "From one fact that came under my notice I have been led to the conclusion that he is an adventurer of the first water."
"A criminal?"
"No, I don"t go quite so far as that. All I know is that he has an utter contempt for the law."
"Then he has, to your knowledge, committed some offence?" Fyneshade cried quickly, with undisguised satisfaction.
"Not exactly. His action might, however, bring him within the pale of the law." I had no desire to impart to this thin, dark-faced peer the wretched story of my marriage.
"What was the nature of his action?" he demanded eagerly. "Tell me."
"Oh, it was really of no interest," I replied quite flippantly. "I may have been mistaken after all."
"In other words, you refuse to tell me--eh?" he observed with a sickly smile.
"I cannot explain any matter of which I have no knowledge," I retorted, well knowing that he was endeavouring to worm from me facts to use as weapons against his enemy, and at the same time feeling convinced that in order to discover the secret hinted at by his wife, I must act warily, and with the most careful discretion. This strange encounter with the Earl, his curious actions in his own house, and his eagerness to learn something detrimental to the mysterious Markwick, formed a bewildering problem. Nevertheless by some intuition I felt that by silence and watchfulness I should at last succeed in finding some clue to this ever-deepening mystery.
While we listened we heard the Countess emerge from the drawing-room and call to her pug as, with a rustle of silk, she mounted the stairs. Then Fyneshade"s conversation drifted into other channels. But he made no further mention of his disagreement with Mabel, and never once referred to the strange disappearance of Gilbert Sternroyd. Though I exerted all my ingenuity to lead up to both subjects, he studiously avoided them, and having waited until all seemed quiet and none of the servants were moving, we both crept out, the Earl closing the front door silently by means of his key.
In the street he glanced swiftly around in order to see if he had been observed, then suddenly gripping my hand, he wished me a hurried adieu, and walked quickly away, leaving me standing on the curb. His usual courteous manner seemed to have forsaken him, for he offered no excuse for leaving me so abruptly, nor did he apparently desire my company any longer. Therefore I turned and pursued my way engrossed in thought Truly the Earl and Countess of Fyneshade were an ill-a.s.sorted pair, and their actions utterly incomprehensible.
CHAPTER TWENTY.
AN EVENING"S AMUs.e.m.e.nT.
Saunders met me on entering my chambers with the surprising announcement that a lady had called during my absence, and had desired to see me on pressing business.
"Did she leave a card?"
"No, sir. She hadn"t a card, but she left her name. Miss Ashcombe, sir."
"Ashcombe?" I repeated. "I don"t know anyone of that name," and for a few moments I tried to recollect whether I had heard of her before, when it suddenly burst upon me that on a previous occasion I had been puzzled by a letter bearing the signature "Annie Ashcombe." The note I had found in Jack"s room on the night of the tragedy and which requested Bethune to meet "her ladyship" at Feltham, had been written by someone named Ashcombe!
"What kind of lady was she, Saunders?" I inquired eagerly. "Ancient?"
"About thirty-five, I think, sir. She was very excited, dark, plainly dressed in black, and wore spectacles. She seemed very disappointed when I said you had only just returned from Wadenhoe, and had gone out again. She wanted to write a note, so I asked her in and she wrote one, but afterward tore it up and told me to mention that she had called to see you on a matter of the most vital importance, and regretted you were not in."
"Did she promise to call again?"
"She said she was compelled to leave London immediately, but would try and see you on her return. When I asked if she could make an appointment for to-morrow, she replied, `I may be absent only three days, or I may be three months.""
"Then she gave no intimation whatever of the nature of her business?"
"Not the slightest, sir. I think she"s Irish, for she spoke with a slight accent."
"You say she tore up her note. Where are the pieces?" He went to the waste-paper basket, turned over its contents, and produced a handful of fragments of a sheet of my own notepaper. These I spread upon the table, and when he had left the room I eagerly set to work placing them together. But the paper had been torn into tiny pieces and it was only after long and tedious effort that I was enabled to read the words, hastily written in pencil, which as far as I could gather, were to the following effect:--
"Dear Sir.--The matter about which I have called to see you is one of the highest importance both to yourself and one of your friends. It is not policy, I think, to commit it to paper; therefore, as I am compelled to leave London at once I must, unfortunately, postpone my interview with you.
"Yours truly,--
"Annie Ashcombe."
I unlocked the little cabinet and taking therefrom the strangely-worded letter I had found in Jack"s room I compared minutely the handwriting and found peculiarities identical. The "Annie Ashcombe" who had called to see me was also the writer of the message from the unknown lady who had taken the precaution of journeying to Feltham in order to secure a private interview with Jack Bethune. Annoyed that I had been absent, and feeling that I had been actually within an ace of obtaining a most important clue, I cast the fragments into the grate with a sigh and replaced the letter in the cabinet. The situation was most tantalising; the mystery inexplicable. From her I might have learnt the ident.i.ty of Jack"s lady friend, and she could have very possibly thrown some light upon the causes that had led to the tragedy, for somehow I could not help strongly suspecting that "her ladyship" referred to in the note was none other than Mabel. But my visitor had gone, and I should now be compelled to await her return during that vague period which included any time from three days to three months.
A fatality seemed always to encompa.s.s me, for my efforts in search of truth were constantly overshadowed by the jade Misfortune. I was baffled at every turn. To discover the ident.i.ty of "her ladyship" was, I had long recognised, a most important fact in clearing or convicting Jack, but, at least for the present, I could hope for no further explanation.