"Plot?" stammered Hugo. "Web?"
Her eyes flashed scrutinizingly on his face.
"You have a kind heart," she said; "everybody can see that. Be frank. Do you know," she asked in a different tone, "or don"t you, that you spoke very gruffly to me this morning?"
"Miss Payne," he began, "I a.s.sure you--"
"I thought perhaps you didn"t know," she smiled calmly. "But you did speak very gruffly. Now, I have taken my courage in both hands in order to come to you to-night. I may have lost my situation through it--I can"t tell. Whether I have lost my situation or not, I appeal to you for candour."
"Miss Payne," said Hugo, "it distresses me to hear you speak of a "situation.""
"And why?"
"You know why," he answered. "A woman as distinguished as you are must be perfectly well aware how distinguished she is, and perfectly capable, let me add, of hiding her distinction from the common crowd. For what purpose of your own you came into my shop, I can"t guess. But necessity never forced you there. No doubt you meant to avoid getting yourself talked about; nevertheless, you have got yourself talked about."
"Indeed!" She looked at him sideways.
"Yes," Hugo went on; "several thousands of commonplace persons are saying that I have fallen in love with you. Do you think it"s true, this rumour?"
"How can I tell you?" said she.
"Well, it is true!" he cried. "It"s doubly and trebly true! It"s the greatest truth in the world at the present moment. It is one of those truths that a believer can"t keep to himself." He paused, expectant. "A woman less fine than you would have protested against this sudden avowal, which is only too like me--too like Hugo. You don"t protest. I knew you wouldn"t. I knew you knew. You asked for candour. You have it.
I love you."
"Then, why," she demanded firmly, with a desolating smile--"why do you have me followed by your private detective?"
Hugo was caught in a trap. He had hesitated long before instructing Albert Shawn to shadow Camilla, but in the end his desire for exact knowledge concerning her, and his possession of a corps of detectives ready to hand, had proved too much for his scruples. He had, however, till that day discovered little of importance for his pains--merely that her parents, who were dead, had kept a small milliner"s shop in Edgware Road, that her age was twenty-five, that she had come to his millinery department with a good testimonial from an establishment in Walham Green, that she lived in lodgings at Fulham and saw scarcely anyone, and that she had once been a typewriter.
"The fact is--"
He stopped, perceiving that the "fact" would not do at all, and that to explain to the woman you love why you have spied on her is a somewhat nice operation.
"Is that the way you usually serve us?" pursued Camilla, with a strange emphasis on the word "us" which maddened him.
"The fact is, Miss Payne," he said boldly, sitting down as soon as he had invented the solution of the difficulty, "you will not deny that this afternoon and this evening you have been in a position of some slight delicacy. What your relations are with Mr. Francis Tudor I have never sought to inquire, but I have always doubted the bona fides of Mr.
Francis Tudor. And to-day I have simply--if I may say so--watched over you. If my man has been clumsy, I beg your forgiveness. I beg you to believe in my deep respect for you."
The plain sincerity of his accent and of his gaze touched and convinced her. She looked at her feet, white-shod on the crimson carpet.
"Ah!" she murmured, as if to herself, mournfully, "why don"t you ask me how it is that I, to whom you pay thirty-six shillings a week, am wearing these clothes? Surely you must think that an employe who--"
"At this hour you are not an employe," he interrupted here. "You visit me of your own free will to demand an explanation of matters which are quite foreign to our business relations. I give it you. Beyond that I permit myself no thoughts except such as any man is ent.i.tled to concerning any woman. You used the word "plot" when you came in. What did you refer to? If Mr. Tudor has--" He could not proceed.
"As I left Mr. Tudor"s flat a few minutes since," said Camilla quietly, producing a revolver from the folds of her cloak, "I picked up this. It may or may not be loaded. Perhaps you can tell me."
He seized the weapon, and impetuously aimed at a heavy Chinese gong across the room, and pulled the trigger several times. The revolver spoke noisily, and the gong sounded and swung.
"You see!" he exclaimed. "Pardon the din. I did it without thinking."
"Did you call, sir?" asked Simon Shawn, appearing in the doorway.
Hugo extirpated him with a look.
"How cool you are!" he resumed to Camilla, and laid down the revolver.
"No, you aren"t! By Jove, you aren"t! What is it? What have you been through? What is this plot? A plot--in my building--and against you!
Tell me everything--everything! I insist."
"Shall you believe all that I say?" she ventured.
"Yes," he said, "all."
He saw with intense joy that he was going to be friendly with her. It seemed too good to be true.
CHAPTER V
A STORY AND A DISAPPEARANCE
"Perhaps I ought to begin by informing you," said Camilla Payne, "that I have known Mr. Francis Tudor for about two years. Always he has been very nice to me. Once he asked me to marry him--quite suddenly--it was a year ago. I refused because I didn"t care for him. I then saw nothing of him for some time. But after I entered your service here, he came across me again by accident. I did not know until lately that he had one of your flats. He was very careful, very polite, timid, cautious--but very obstinate, too. He invited me to call on him at his rooms, and to bring any friends I liked. Of course, it was a stupidity on his part, but, then, what else could he do? A man who wants to cultivate relations with a homeless shopgirl is rather awkwardly fixed."
"I wish to Heaven you would not talk like that, Miss Payne!" said Hugo, interrupting her impatiently.
"I am merely telling you these things so that you may understand my position," Camilla coldly replied. "Do you imagine that I am amusing myself?"
"Go on, go on, I beg," he urged, with a gesture of apology.
"Naturally, I declined the invitation. Then next I received a letter from him, in which he said that unless I called on him, or agreed to meet him in some place where we could talk privately and at length, he should kill himself within a week. And he added that death was perhaps less to him than I imagined. I believed that letter. There was something about it that touched me."
"And so you decided to yield?"
"I did yield. I felt that if I was to trust him at all, I might as well trust him fully, and I called at his flat this afternoon alone. He was evidently astonished to see me at that hour, so I explained to him that you had closed early for some reason or other."
"Exactly," said Hugo.
He insisted on giving me tea. I was treated, in fact, like a princess; but during tea he said nothing to me that might not have been said before a roomful of people. After tea he left me for a few moments, in order, as he said, to give some orders to his servants. Up till then he had been extremely agitated, and when he returned he was even more agitated. He walked to and fro in that lovely drawing-room of his--just as you were doing here not long since. I was a little afraid."
"Afraid of what?" demanded Hugo.
"I don"t know--of him, lest he might do something fatal, irretrievable; something--I don"t know. And then, being alone with him in that palace of a place! Well, he burst out suddenly into a series of statements about himself, and about his future, and his intentions, and his feelings towards me. And these statements were so extraordinary and so startling that I could not think he had invented them. I believed them, as I had believed in the sincerity of his threat to kill himself if I would not listen to him."
"And what were they--these statements?" Hugo inquired.
Camilla waved aside the interruptions, and continued: ""Now," he said, "will you marry me? Will you marry me now?""
She paused and glanced at Hugo, who observed that her eyes were filling with tears.