She ignored my rudeness.
"You look very bad, Maurice," she responded, almost in a whisper, as we moved towards the house. I was acutely conscious that the others were watching my retreat; especially that inquisitive little Vereker woman, whom I was beginning to hate. When we entered the dusk of the drawing-room, out of range of those curious eyes, I turned on my cousin.
"Mary--for G.o.d"s sake--don"t let that woman--or any one else, speak of--Anne--in connection with Ca.s.savetti," I said, in a hoa.r.s.e undertone.
"Anne! Why, what on earth do you mean?" she faltered.
"He doesn"t mean anything, except that he"s considerably upset," said Jim"s hearty voice, close at hand. He had followed us in from the garden. "You go back to your guests, little woman, and make "em talk about anything in the world except this murder affair. Try frocks and frills; when Amy Vereker starts on them there"s no stopping her; and if they won"t serve, try palmistry and spooks and all that rubbish. Leave Maurice to me. He"s faint with hunger, and inclined to make an a.s.s of himself even more than usual! Off with you!"
Mary made a queer little sound, that was half a sob, half a laugh.
"All right; I"ll obey orders for once, you dear, wise old Jim. Make him come back to-night, though."
She moved away, a slender ghostlike little figure in her white gown; and Jim laid a heavy, kindly hand on my shoulder.
"Buck up, Maurice; come along to the dining-room and feed, and then tell me all about it."
"There"s nothing to tell," I persisted. "But I guess you"re right, and hunger"s what"s wrong with me."
I managed to make a good meal--I was desperately hungry now I came to think of it--and Jim waited on me solicitously. He seemed somehow relieved that I manifested a keen appet.i.te.
"That"s better," he said, as I declined cheese, and lighted a cigarette.
""When in difficulties have a square meal before you tackle "em; that"s my maxim,--original, and worth its weight in gold. I give it you for nothing. Now about this affair; it"s more like a melodrama than a tragedy. You know, or suspect, that Anne Pendennis is mixed up in it?"
"I neither know nor suspect any such thing," I said deliberately. I had recovered my self-possession, and the lie, I knew, sounded like truth, or would have done so to any one but Jim Cayley.
"Then your manner just now was inexplicable," he retorted quietly. "Now, just hear me out, Maurice; it"s no use trying to bluff me. You think I am prejudiced against this girl. Well, I"m not. I"ve always acknowledged that she"s handsome and fascinating to a degree, though, as I told you once before, she"s a coquette to her finger-tips. That"s one of her characteristics, that she can"t be held responsible for, any more than she can help the color of her hair, which is natural and not touched up, like Amy Vereker"s, for instance! Besides, Mary loves her; and that"s a sufficient proof, to me, that she is "O. K." in one way. You love her, too; but men are proverbially fools where a handsome woman is concerned."
"What are you driving at, Jim?" I asked. At any other time I would have resented his homily, as I had done before, but now I wanted to find out how much he knew.
"A timely warning, my boy. I suspect, and you know, or I"m very much mistaken, that Anne Pendennis had some connection with this man who is murdered. She pretended last night that she had never met him before; but she had,--there was a secret understanding between them. I saw that, and so did you; and I saw, too, that her treatment of you was a mere ruse, though Heaven knows why she employed it! I can"t attempt to fathom her motive. I believe she loves you, as you love her; but that she"s not a free agent. She"s not like an ordinary English girl whose antecedents are known to every one about her. She, and her father, too, are involved in some mystery, some international political intrigues, I"m pretty sure, as this unfortunate Ca.s.savetti was. I don"t say that she was responsible for the murder. I don"t believe she was, or that she had any personal hand in it--"
I had listened as if spellbound, but now I breathed more freely.
Whatever his suspicions were, they did not include that she was actually present when Ca.s.savetti was done to death.
"But she was most certainly cognizant of it, and her departure this morning was nothing more or less than flight," he continued. "And--I tell you this for her sake, as well as for your own, Maurice--your manner just now gave the whole game away to any one who has any knowledge or suspicion of the facts. Man alive, you profess to love Anne Pendennis; you do love her; I"ll concede that much. Well, do you want to see her hanged, or condemned to penal servitude for life?"
CHAPTER IX
NOT AT BERLIN
"Hanged, or condemned to penal servitude for life."
There fell a dead silence after Jim Cayley uttered those ominous words.
He waited for me to speak, but for a minute or more I was dumb. He had voiced the fear that had been on me more or less vaguely ever since I broke open the door and saw Ca.s.savetti"s corpse; and that had taken definite shape when I heard Freeman"s a.s.sertion concerning "a red-haired woman."
And yet my whole soul revolted from the horrible, the appalling suspicion. I kept a.s.suring myself pa.s.sionately that she was, she must be, innocent; I would stake my life on it!
Now, after that tense pause, I turned on Jim furiously.
"What do you mean? Are you mad?" I demanded.
"No, but I think you are," Jim answered soberly. "I"m not going to quarrel with you, Maurice, or allow you to quarrel with me. As I told you before, I am only warning you, for your own sake, and for Anne"s.
You know, or suspect at least--"
"I don"t!" I broke in hotly. "I neither know nor suspect that--that she--Jim Cayley, would you believe Mary to be a murderess, even if all the world declared her to be one? Wouldn"t you--"
"Stop!" he said sternly. "You don"t know what you"re saying, you young fool! My wife and Anne Pendennis are very different persons. Shut up, now! I say you"ve got to hear me! I have not accused Anne Pendennis of being a murderess. I don"t believe she is one. But I do believe that, if once suspicion is directed towards her, she would find it very difficult, if not impossible, to prove her innocence. You ought to know that, too, and yet you are doing your best, by your ridiculous behavior, to bring suspicion to bear on her."
"I!"
"Yes, you! If you want to save her, pull yourself together, man; play your part for all it"s worth. It"s an easy part enough, if you"d only dismiss Anne Pendennis from your mind; forget that such a person exists. You"ve got to give evidence at this inquest. Well, give it straightforwardly, without worrying yourself about any side issues; and, for Heaven"s sake, get and keep your nerves under control, or--"
He broke off, and we both turned, as the door opened and a smart parlor-maid tripped into the room.
"Beg pardon, sir. I didn"t know you were here," she said with the demure grace characteristic of the well-trained English servant. "It"s nearly supper-time, and I came to see if there was anything else wanted. I laid the table early."
"All right, Marshall. I"ve been giving Mr. Wynn some supper, as he has to be off. You needn"t sound the gong for a few minutes."
"Very well, sir. If you"d ring when you"re ready, I"ll put the things straight."
She retreated as quietly as she had come, and I think we both felt that her entrance and exit relieved the tension of our interview.
I rose and held out my hand.
"Thanks, Jim. I can"t think how you know as much as you evidently do; but, anyhow, I"ll take your advice. I"ll be off, now, and I won"t come back to-night, as Mary asked me to. I"d rather be alone. See you both to-morrow. Good night."
I walked back to Westminster, lingering for a considerable time by the river, where the air was cool and pleasant. The many pairs of lovers promenading the tree-shaded Embankment took no notice of me, or I of them.
As I leaned against the parapet, watching the swift flowing murky tide, I argued the matter out.
Jim was right. I had behaved like an idiot in the garden just now. Well, I would take his advice and buck up; be on guard. I would do more than that. I would not even vex myself with conjectures as to how much he knew, or how he had come by that knowledge. It was impossible to adopt one part of his counsel--impossible to "forget that such a person as Anne Pendennis ever existed;" but I would only think of her as the girl I loved, the girl whom I would see in Berlin within a few days.
I wrote to her that night, saying nothing of the murder, but only that I was unexpectedly detained, and would send her a wire when I started, so that she would know when to expect me. Once face to face with her, I would tell her everything; and she would give me the key to the mystery that had tortured me so terribly. But I must never let her know that I had doubted her, even for an instant!
The morning mail brought me an unexpected treasure. Only a post-card, pencilled by Anne herself in the train, and posted at Dover.
It was written in French, and was brief enough; but, for the time being, it changed and brightened the whole situation.
"I scarcely hoped to see you at the station, _mon ami_; there was so little time. What haste you must have made to get there at all! Shall I really see you in Berlin? I do want you to know my father. And you will be able to tell me your plans. I don"t even know your destination! The Reichshof, where we stay, is in Friedrich Stra.s.se, close to Unter den Linden. _Au revoir!_
A. P."
A simple message, but it meant much to me. I regarded it as a proof that her hurried journey was not a flight, but a mere coincidence.