She did so. Louis counted the notes and casually put them in his breast pocket.
"Oddest chap I ever came across!" he observed, smiling.
"But aren"t you sorry for him?" Rachel demanded.
"Yes," said Louis airily. "I shall insist on his taking half, naturally."
"I"m going to bed," said Rachel. "You"ll see all the lights out."
She offered her face and kissed him tepidly.
"What"s come over the kid?" Louis asked himself, somewhat disconcerted, when she had gone.
He remained smoking, purposeless, in the parlour until all sounds had ceased overhead in the bedroom. Then he extinguished the gas in the parlour, in the back room, in the kitchen, and finally in the lobby, and went upstairs by the light of the street lamp. In the bedroom Rachel lay in bed, her eyes closed. She did not stir at his entrance.
He locked the bank-notes in a drawer of the dressing-table, undressed with his usual elaborate care, approached Rachel"s bed and gazed at her unresponsive form, turned down the gas to a pinpoint, and got into bed himself. Not the slightest sound could be heard anywhere, either in or out of the house, save the faint breathing of Rachel. And after a few moments Louis no longer heard even that. In the darkness the mystery of the human being next him began somehow to be disquieting.
He was capable of imagining that he lay in the room with an utter stranger. Then he fell asleep.
CHAPTER XII
RUNAWAY HORSES
I
Rachel, according to her own impression the next morning, had no sleep during that night. The striking of the hall clock could not be heard in the bedroom with the door closed, but it could be felt as a faint, distinct concussion; and she had thus noted every hour, except four o"clock, when daylight had come and the street lamp had been put out.
She had deliberately feigned sleep as Louis entered the room, and had maintained the soft, regular breathing of a sleeper until long after he was in bed. She did not wish to talk; she could not have talked with any safety.
Her brain was occupied much by the strange and emotional episode of Julian"s confession, but still more by the situation of her husband in the affair. Julian"s story had precisely corroborated one part of Mrs.
Maldon"s account of her actions on the evening when the bank-notes had disappeared. Little by little that recital of Mrs. Maldon"s had been discredited, and at length cast aside as no more important than the delirium of a dying creature; it was an inconvenient story, and would only fit in with the alternative theories that money had wings and could fly on its own account, or that there had been thieves in the house. Far easier to a.s.sume that Mrs. Maldon in some lapse had unwittingly done away with the notes! But Mrs. Maldon was now suddenly reinstated as a witness. And if one part of her evidence was true, why should not the other part be true? Her story was that she had put the remainder of the bank-notes on the chair on the landing, and then (she thought) in the wardrobe. Rachel recalled clearly all that she had seen and all that she had been told. She remembered once more the warnings that had been addressed to her. She lived the evening and the night of the theft over again, many times, monotonously, and with increasing woe and agitation.
Then with the greenish dawn, that the blinds let into the room, came some refreshment and new health to the brain, but the trend of her ideas was not modified. She lay on her side and watched the unconscious Louis for immense periods, and occasionally tears filled her eyes. The changes in her existence seemed so swift and so tremendous as to transcend belief. Was it conceivable that only twelve hours earlier she had been ecstatically happy? In twelve hours--in six hours--she had aged twenty years, and she now saw the Rachel of the reception and of the bicycle lesson as a young girl, touchingly ingenuous, with no more notion of danger than a baby.
At six o"clock she arose. Already she had formed the habit of arising before Louis, and had reconciled herself to the fact that Louis had to be forced out of bed. Happily, his feet once on the floor, he became immediately manageable. Already she was the conscience and time-keeper of the house. She could dress herself noiselessly; in a week she had perfected all her little devices for avoiding noise and saving time.
She finally left the room neat, prim, with lips set to a thousand responsibilities. She had a peculiar sensation of tight elastic about her eyes, but she felt no fatigue, and she did not yawn. Mrs. Tams, who had just descended, found her taciturn and exacting. She would have every household task performed precisely in her own way, without compromise. And it appeared that the house, which had the air of being in perfect order, was not in order at all, that indeed the processes of organization had, in young Mrs. Fores" opinion, scarcely yet begun.
It appeared that there was no smallest part or corner of the house as to which young Mrs. Fores had not got very definite ideas and plans.
The individuality of Mrs. Tams was to have scope nowhere. But after all, this seemed quite natural to Mrs. Tams.
When Rachel went back to the bedroom, about 7.30, to get Louis by ruthlessness and guile out of bed, she was surprised to discover that he had already gone up to the bathroom. She guessed, with vague alarm, from this symptom that he had a new and very powerful interest in life. He came to breakfast at three minutes to eight, three minutes before it was served. When she entered the parlour in the wake of Mrs. Tams he kissed her with gay fervour. She permitted herself to be kissed. Her unresponsiveness, though not marked, disconcerted him and somewhat dashed his mood. Whereupon Rachel, by the rea.s.surance of her voice, set about to convince him that he had been mistaken in deeming her unresponsive. So that he wavered between two moods.
As she sat behind the tray, amid the exquisite odours of fresh coffee and Ted Malkin"s bacon (for she had forgiven Miss Malkin), behaving like a staid wife of old standing, she well knew that she was a mystery for Louis. She was the source of his physical comfort, the origin of the celestial change in his life which had caused him to admit fully that to live in digs was "a rotten game"; but she was also, that morning, a most sinister mystery. Her behaviour was faultless. He could seize on no definite detail that should properly disturb him; only she had woven a veil between herself and him. Still, his liveliness scarcely abated.
"Do you know what I"m going to do this very day as ever is?" he asked.
"What is it?"
"I"m going to buy you a bike. I"ve had enough of that old crock I borrowed for you. I shall return it and come back with a new "un. And I know the precise bike that I shall come back with. It"s at Bostock"s at Hanbridge. They"ve just opened a new cycle department."
"Oh, Louis!" she protested.
His scheme for spending money on her flattered her. But nevertheless it was a scheme for spending money. Two hundred and twenty-five pounds had dropped into his lap, and he must needs begin instantly to dissipate it. He could not keep it. That was Louis! She refused to see that the purchase of a bicycle was the logical consequence of her lessons. She desired to believe that by some miracle at some future date she could possess a bicycle without a bicycle being bought--and in the meantime was there not the borrowed machine?
Suddenly she yawned.
"Didn"t you sleep well?" he demanded.
"Not very."
"Oh!"
She could almost see into the interior of his brain, where he was persuading himself that fatigue alone was the explanation of her peculiar demeanour, and rejoicing that the mystery was, after all, neither a mystery nor sinister.
"I say," he began between two puffs of a cigarette after breakfast, "I shall send back half of that money to Julian. I"ll send the notes by registered post."
"Shall you?"
"Yes. Don"t you think he"ll keep them?"
"Supposing I was to take them over to him myself--and insist?" she suggested.
"It"s a notion. When?"
"Well, on Sat.u.r.day afternoon. He"ll be at home probably then."
"All right," Louis agreed. "I"ll give you the money later on."
Nothing more was said as to the Julian episode. It seemed that husband and wife were equally determined not to discuss it merely for the sake of discussing it.
Shortly after half-past eight Louis was preparing the borrowed bicycle and his own in the back yard.
"I shall ride mine and tow the crock," said he, looking up at Rachel as he screwed a valve. She had come into the yard in order to show a polite curiosity in his doings.
"Isn"t it dangerous?"
"Are you dangerous?" he laughed.
"But when shall you go?"
"Now."
"Shan"t you be late at the works?"
"Well, if I"m late at the beautiful works I shall be late at the beautiful works. Those who don"t like it will have to lump it."
Once more, it was the consciousness of a loose, entirely available two hundred and twenty-five pounds that was making him restive under the yoke of regular employment. For a row of pins, that morning, he would have given Jim Horrocleave a week"s notice, or even the amount of a week"s wages in lieu of notice! Rachel sighed, but within herself.