"The Garden House!"
"Garden House, sir? Inner court left-hand corner."
John pa.s.sed through. "That will be remembered afterward," he thought.
"But no matter--it will all be over then."
And coming out of the close streets, with their clatter of traffic, into the cool gardens, with their odour of moistened gra.s.s, the dull glow in the sky, and the glimpse of the stars through the tree-tops, his mind went back by a sudden bound to another night, when he had walked over the same spot with Glory. At that there came a spasm of tenderness, and his throat thickened. He could almost see her, and feel her by his side, with her fragrant freshness and buoyant step. "O G.o.d! must I do it, must I, must I?" he thought again.
But another memory of that night came back to him; he heard Drake"s voice as it floated over the quiet place. Then the same upheaval of hatred which he had felt before he felt again. The man was the girl"s ruin; he had tempted her by love of dress, of fame, of the world"s vanities and follies of every sort. This made him think for the first time of how he might find her. He might find her with _him_. They would come back from the Derby together. He would bring her home, and they would sup in company. The house would be lit up; the windows thrown open; they would be playing and singing and laughing, and the sounds of their merriment would come down to him into the darkness below.
All the better, all the better! He would do it before the man"s face.
And when it was done, when all was over, when she lay there--lay there--there--he would turn on the man and say: "Look at her, the sweetest girl that ever breathed the breath of life, the dearest, truest woman in all the world! You have done that--you--you--you--and G.o.d d.a.m.n you!"
His tortured heart was afire, and his brain was reeling. Before he knew where he was he had pa.s.sed from the outer court into the inner one.
"Here it is--this is the house," he thought. But it was all dark. Just a few lights burning, but they had been carefully turned down. The windows were closed, the blinds were drawn, and there was not a sound anywhere!
He stood some minutes trying to think, and during that time the mood of frenzy left him and the low cunning came back. Then he rang the bell.
There was no answer, so he rang again. After a while he heard a footstep that seemed to come up from below. Still the door was not opened, and he rang a third time.
"Who"s there?" said a voice within.
"It is I--open the door," he answered.
"Who are you?" said the voice, and he replied impatiently:
"Come, come, Liza, open, and see."
Then the catch lock was shot back. At the next moment he was in the hall, shutting the door behind him, and Liza was looking up into his face with eyes of mingled fear and relief.
"Lor", sir, whyever didn"t you say it was you?"
"Where"s your mistress?"
"Gone to the office, and won"t be back till morning. And Miss Gloria isn"t home from the races yet."
"I must see her to-night--I"ll wait upstairs."
"You must excuse me, sir--Farver, I mean--but I wouldn"t a-known your voice, it seemed so different. And me that sleepy too, being on the go since six in the mornin"----"
"Go to bed, Liza. You sleep in the kitchen, don"t you?"
"Yes, sir, thank you, I think I will, too. Miss Gloria can let herself in, anyway, same as comin" from the theatre. But can I git ye anythink?
No? Well, you know your wye up, sir, down"t ye?"
"Yes, yes; good-night, Liza!"
"Good-night, Farver!"
He had set his foot on the stair to go up to the drawing-room when it suddenly occurred to him that though he was the minister of G.o.d he was using the weapons of the devil. No matter! If he had been about to commit a crime it would have been different. But this was no crime, and he was no criminal. He was the instrument of G.o.d"s mercy to the woman he loved. _He was going to slay her body that he might save her soul!_
VII.
The journey home from the Derby had been a long one, but Glory had enjoyed it. When she had settled down to the physical discomfort of the blinding and choking dust, the humours of the road became amusing. This endless procession of good-humoured ruffianism sweeping through the most sacred retreats of Nature, this inroad of every order of the Stygian _demi-monde_ on to the slopes of Olympus, was intensely interesting. Men and women merry with drink, all laughing, shouting, and singing; some in fine clothes and lounging in carriages, others in striped jerseys and yellow cotton dresses, huddled up on donkey barrows; some smoking cigarettes and cigars and drinking champagne, others smoking clay pipes with the bowls downward, and flourishing bottles of ale; some holding rhubarb leaves over their heads for umbrellas, and pelting the police with _confetti_; others wearing executioners" masks, false mustaches, and red-tipped noses, and blowing bleating notes out of penny trumpets--but all one family, one company, one cla.s.s.
There were ghastly scenes as well as humorous ones--an old horse, killed by the day"s work and thrown into the ditch by the roadside, axletrees broken by the heavy loads and people thrown out of their carts and cut, boy tramps dragging along like worn-out old men, and a Welsher with his clothes torn to ribbons, stealing across the fields to escape a yelping and infuriated crowd.
But the atmosphere was full of gaiety, and Glory laughed at nearly everything. Lord Robert, with his arm about Betty"s waist, was chaffing a coster who had a drunken woman on his back seat. "Got a pa.s.senger, driver?" "Yuss, sir, and I"m agoin" "ome to my wife to-night, and thet"s more nor you dare do." A young fellow in pearl b.u.t.tons was tramping along with a young girl in a tremendous hat. He s.n.a.t.c.hed her hat off, she s.n.a.t.c.hed off his; he kissed her, she smacked his face; he put her hat on his own head, she put on his hat; and then they linked arms and sang a verse of the Old Dutch.
Glory reproduced a part of this love-pa.s.sage in pantomime, and Drake screamed with laughter.
It was seven o"clock before they reached the outskirts of London. By that time a hamper on the coach had been emptied and the bottles thrown out; the procession had drawn up at a dozen villages on the way; the perspiring tipsters, with whom "things hadn"t panned out well," had forgotten their disappointments and "didn"t care a tinker"s! cuss"; every woman in a barrow had her head-gear in confusion, and she was singing in a drunken wail. Nevertheless Drake, who was laughing and talking constantly, said it was the quietest Derby night he had ever seen, and he couldn"t tell what things were coming to.
"Must be this religious mania, don"t you know," said lord Robert, pointing to a new and very different scene which they had just then come upon.
It was an open s.p.a.ce covered with people, who had lit fires as if intending to camp out all night, and were now gathered in many groups, singing hymns and praying. The drunken wails from the procession stopped for a moment, and there was nothing heard but the whirring wheels and the mournful notes of the singers. Then "Father Storm!" rose like the cry of a cormorant from a thousand throats at once. When the laughter that greeted the name had subsided, Betty said:
""Pon my honour, though, that man must be off his dot," and the lady in blue went into convulsions of hysterical giggling. Drake looked uneasy, and Lord Robert said, "Who cares what an Elephant says?" But Glory took no notice now, save that for a moment the smile died off her face.
It had been agreed, when they cracked the head off the last bottle, that the company should dine together at the Cafe Royal or Romano"s, so they drove first to Drake"s chambers to brush the dust off and to wash and rest. Glory was the first to be ready, and while waiting for the others she sat at the organ in the sitting-room and played something. It was the hymn they had heard in the suburbs. At this there was laughter from the other side of the wall, and Drake, who seemed unable, to lose sight of her, came to the door of his room in his shirt sleeves. To cover up her confusion she sang a "c.o.o.n" song. The company cheered her, and she sang another, and yet another. Finally she began My Mammie, but floundered, broke down, and cried.
"Rehearsal, ten in the morning," said Betty.
Then everybody laughed, and while Drake busied himself putting Glory"s cloak on her shoulders, he whispered: "What"s to do, dear? A bit off colour to-night, eh?"
"Be a good boy and leave me alone," she answered, and then she laughed also.
They were on the point of setting out when somebody said, "But it"s late for dinner now--why not supper at the Corinthian Club?" At that the other ladies cried "Yes" with one voice. There was a dash of daring and doubtful propriety in the proposal.
"But are you game for it?" said Drake, looking at Glory.
"Why not?" she replied, with a merry smile, whereupon he cried "All right," and a look came into his eyes which she had never seen there before.
The Corinthian Club was in St. James"s Square, a few doors from the residence of the Bishop of London. It was now dark, and as they pa.s.sed through Jermyn Street a line of poor children stood by the poulterer"s shop at the corner waiting for the sc.r.a.ps that are thrown away at closing time. York Street was choked with hansoms, but they reached the door at last. There were the sounds of music and dancing within.
Officials in uniform stood in a hall examining the tickets of membership and taking the names of guests. The ladies removed their cloaks, the men hung up their coats and hats, a large door was thrown open, and they looked into the ballroom. The room was full of people as faultlessly dressed as at a house in Grosvenor Square. But the women were all young and pretty, and the men had no surnames. A long line of gilded youths in dress clothes occupied the middle of the floor. Each held by the waist the young man before him as if he were going to play leap-frog. "h.e.l.lo there!" shouted one of them, and the band struck up. Then the whole body kicked out right and left, while all sang a chorus, consisting chiefly of "Tra-la-la-la-la-la!" One of them was a lord, another a young man who had lately come into a fortune, another a light comedian, another belonged to a big firm on the Stock Exchange, another was a mystery, and another was one of "the boys" and lived by fleecing all the rest. They were executing a dance from the latest burlesque. "h.e.l.lo, there!" the conductor shouted again, and the band stopped.
Lord Robert led the way upstairs. Pretty women in light pinks and blues sat in every corner of the staircase. There was a balcony from which you could look down on the dancers as from the gallery of a playhouse. Also there was an American bar where women smoked cigarettes. Lord Robert ordered supper, and when the meal was announced they went into the supper-room.
"h.e.l.lo there!" greeted them as they entered. At little tables lit up by pink candles sat small groups of shirt fronts and b.u.t.terfly ties with fair heads and pretty frocks. Waiters were coming and going with champagne and silver dishes; there was a clatter of knives and forks, and a jabber of voices and laughter. And all the time there came the sounds of the band, with the "Tra-la-la" from the ballroom below.
Glory sat by Drake. She realized that she had lowered herself in his eyes by coming there. He was drinking a good deal and paying her endless compliments. From time to time the tables about them were vacated and filled again by similar shirt fronts and fair heads. People were arriving from the Derby, and the talk was of the day"s racing. Some of the new arrivals saluted Drake, and many of them looked at Glory. "A rippin" good race, old chappie. Didn"t suit my book exactly, but the bookies will have smiling faces at Tattersall"s on Monday."
A man with a big beard at the next table pulled down his white waistcoat, lifted his gla.s.s, and said, "To Gloria!" It was her acquaintance of the race-course.
"Who is Blue Beard?" she asked in a whisper.