The Malefactor Read online

  THE SHADOW OF A FEAR

  For several minutes Lady Ruth said nothing. She was leaning back inthe farthest corner of her chair, her head resting slightly upon herfingers, her eyes studying with a curious intentness the outline ofWingrave's pale, hard face. He himself, either unconscious of, orindifferent to her close scrutiny, had simply the air of a man possessedof an inexhaustible fund of patience.

  "Wingrave," she said quietly, "I think that the time has gone by when Iwas afraid of you."

  He turned slightly towards her, but he did not speak.

  "I am possessed," she continued, "at present, of a more womanlysentiment. I am curious."

  "Ah!" he murmured, "you were always a little inclined that way."

  "I am curious about you," she continued. "You are, comparativelyspeaking, young, well-looking enough, and strong. Your hand is firmlyplanted upon the lever which moves the world. What are you going to do?"

  "That," he said, "depends upon many things."

  "You may be ambitious," she remarked. "If so, you conceal it admirably.You may be devoting your powers to the consummation of vengeance againstthose who have treated you ill. There are no signs of that, either, atpresent."

  "We have excellent authority," he remarked, "for the statement that aconsiderable amount of satisfaction is derivable from the exercise ofthat sentiment."

  "Perhaps," she answered, "but the pursuit of vengeance for wrongs of thepast is the task of a fool. Now, you are not a fool. You carry your lifelocked up within you as a strong man should. But there are always somewho may look in through the windows. I should like to be one."

  "An empty cupboard," he declared. "A cupboard swept bare by time andnecessity."

  She shook her head.

  "Your life," she said, "is molded towards a purpose. What is it?"

  "I must ask myself the question," he declared, "before I can tell youthe answer!"

  "No," she said, "the necessity does not exist. Your reckless pursuit ofwealth, your return here, the use you are making of my husband and me,are all means towards some end. Why not tell me?"

  "Your imagination," he declared, "is running away with you."

  "Are you our enemy?" she asked. "Is this seeming friendship of yours acloak to hide some scheme of yours to make us suffer? Or--" She drew alittle closer to him, and her eyes drooped.

  "Or what?" he repeated.

  "Is there a little left," she whispered, "of the old folly?"

  "Why not?" he answered quietly. "I was very much in love with you."

  "It is dead," she murmured. "I believe that you hate me now!"

  Her voice was almost a caress. She was leaning a little towards him; hereyes were seeking to draw his.

  "Hate you! How impossible!" he said calmly. "You are still a beautifulwoman, you know, Ruth."

  He turned and studied her critically. Lady Ruth raised her eyes once,but dropped them at once. She felt herself growing paler. A spasm of theold fear was upon her.

  "Yes," he continued, "age has not touched you. You can still pour, ifyou will, the magic drug into the wine of fools. By the bye, I must notbe selfish. Aren't you rather neglecting your guests?"

  "Never mind my guests," she answered. "I have been wanting to talk toyou alone for days. Why have you done this? Why are you here? What is itthat you are seeking for in life?"

  "A little amusement only," he declared. "I cannot find it except amongstmy own kind."

  "You have not the appearance of a pleasure seeker," she answered.

  "Mine is a passive search," he said. "I have some years to live--and ofsolitude, well, I have tasted at once the joys and the depths."

  "You are not in love with me any longer, are you?" she asked.

  "I am not bold enough to deny it," he answered, "but do not be afraidthat I shall embarrass you with a declaration. To tell you the truth, Ihave not much feeling left of any sort."

  "You mean to keep your own counsel, then?" she asked.

  "It is so little to keep," he murmured, "and I have parted with somuch!"

  She measured the emotion of his tone, the curious yet perfectly naturalindifference of his manner, and she shivered a little. Always she fearedwhat she could not understand.

  "I had hoped," she said sadly, "that we might at least have beenfriends."

  He shook his head.

  "I have no fancy," he declared, "for the cemeteries of affection. Youmust remember that I am beginning life anew. I do not know myself yet,or you! Let us drift into the knowledge of one another, and perhaps--"

  "Well! Perhaps?"

  "There may be no question of friendship!"

  Lady Ruth went back to her guests, and with the effortless ease of longtraining, she became once more the gracious and tactful hostess. But inher heart, the fear had grown a little stronger, and a specter walkedby her side. Once during the evening, her husband looked at herquestioningly, and she breathed a few words to him. He laughedreassuringly.

  "Oh! Wingrave's all right, I believe," he said, "it's only his mannerthat puts you off a bit. He's just the same with everyone! I don't thinkhe means anything by it!"

  Lady Ruth shivered, but she said nothing. Just then Aynesworth came up,and with a motion of her fan she called him to her.

  "Please take me into the other room," she said "I want a glass ofchampagne, and on the way you can tell me all about America."

  "One is always making epigrams about America," he protested, smiling."Won't you spare me?"

  "Tell me, then, how you progress with your great character study!"

  "Ah!" he remarked quietly, "you come now to a more interesting subject."

  "Yes?"

  "Frankly, I do not progress at all."

  "So far as you have gone?"

  "If," he said, "I were to take pen and paper and write down, at thismoment, my conclusions so far as I have been able to form any, I fancythat they would make evil reading. Permit me!"

  They stood for a few minutes before the long sideboard. A footman hadpoured champagne into their glasses, and Lady Ruth talked easily enoughthe jargon of the moment. But when they turned away, she moved slowly,and her voice was almost a whisper.

  "Tell me this," she said, "is he really as hard and cold as he seems?You have lived with him now for four years. You should know that, atleast."

  "I believe that he is," Aynesworth answered. "I can tell you that much,at least, without breach of faith. So far as one who watches him cantell, he lives for his own gratification--and his indulgence in it doesnot, as a rule, make for the happiness of other people."

  "Then what does he want with us?" she asked almost sharply. "I askmyself that question until--I am terrified."

  Aynesworth hesitated.

  "It is very possible," he said, "that he is simply making use of you tore-enter the world. Curiously enough, he has never seemed to care forsolitude. He makes numberless acquaintances. What pleasure he finds init I do not know, but he seldom avoids people. He may be simply makinguse of you."

  "What do you think yourself?"

  "I cannot tell," Aynesworth answered. "Indeed I cannot tell."

  She left him a little impatiently, and Aynesworth joined the outsideof the circle of men who had gathered round Wingrave. He was answeringtheir questions readily enough, if a little laconically. He was quiteaware that he occupied in society the one unique place to which princesmight not even aspire--there was something of divinity about hismillions, something of awe in the tone of the men with whom he talked.Women pretended to be interested in him because of the romance of hissuddenly acquired wealth--the men did not trouble to deceive themselvesor anyone else. A break up of the group came when a certain great andmuch-talked-about lady sent across an imperative message by her cavalierfor the moment. She desired that Mr. Wingrave should be presented toher.

  They passed down the room together a few moments later, the Marchionesswonderfully dressed in a gown of strange turquoise blue, looking up ather companion, and talking with somewhat unusual animation. Everyonemade rem
arks, of course--exchanged significant glances and unlovelysmiles. It was so like the Marchioness to claim, as a matter of course,the best of everything that was going. Lady Ruth watched them with acurious sense of irritation for which she could not altogether account.It was impossible that she should be jealous, and yet it was equallycertain that she was annoyed. If Wingrave resisted his present faircaptor, he would enjoy a notability equal to that which his wealthalready conferred upon him. No man as yet had done it. Was it likelythat Wingrave would wear two crowns? Lady Ruth beckoned Aynesworth toher.

  "Tell me," she said, "what is Mr. Wingrave's general attitude towards mysex?"

  "Absolute indifference," he declared promptly, "unless--"

  He stopped short.

  "You must go on," she told him.

  "Unless he is possessed of the ability to make them suffer," he answeredafter a moment's hesitation.

  "Then Emily will never attract him," she declared almost triumphantly,"for she has no more heart that he has."

  "He has yet to discover it," Aynesworth remarked. "When he does, I thinkyou will find that he will shrug his shoulders--and say farewell."

  "All the same," Lady Ruth murmured to herself, "Emily is a cat."

  Lady Ruth spoke to one more man that night of Wingrave--and that man washer husband. Their guests had departed, and Lady Ruth, in a marvelouswhite dressing gown, was lying upon the sofa in her room.

  "How do you get on with Wingrave?" she asked. "What do you think ofhim?"

  Barrington shrugged his shoulders.

  "What can one think of a man," he answered, "who goes about like ananimated mummy? I have done my best; I talked to him for nearly half anhour at a stretch today when I took him to the club for lunch. He isthe incarnation of indifference. He won't listen to politics; women, ortales about them, at any rate, seem to bore him to extinction; he drinksonly as a matter of form, and he won't talk finance. By the bye, Ruth,I wish you could get him to give you a tip. I scarcely see how we aregoing to get through the season unless something turns up."

  "Is it as bad as that?" she asked.

  "Worse!" her husband answered gloomily. "We've been living on ourcapital for years. Every acre of Queen's Norton is mortgaged, and I'mshot if I can see how we're going to pay the interest."

  She sighed a little wearily.

  "Do you think that it would be wise?" she asked. "Let me tell yousomething, Lumley. I have only known what fear was once in my life. Iam afraid now. I am afraid of Wingrave. I have a fancy that he does notmean any good to us."

  Barrington frowned and threw his cigarette into the fire with a littlejerk.

  "Nonsense!" he exclaimed. "The man's not quite so bad as that. We'vebeen useful to him. We've done exactly what he asked. The other matter'sdead and buried. We don't want his money, but it is perfectly easy forhim to help us make a little."

  She looked up at him quietly.

  "I think, Lumley, that it is dangerous!" she said.

  "Then you're not the clever woman I take you for," he answered, turningto leave the room. "Just as you please. Only it will be that or thebankruptcy court before long!"

  Lady Ruth lay quite still, looking into the fire. When her maid came,she moved on tiptoe for it seemed to her that her mistress slept. ButLady Ruth was wide awake though the thoughts which were flitting throughher brain had, perhaps, some kinship to the land of dreams.