The Malefactor Read online

  LADY RUTH'S LAST CARD

  "There are two letters," Aynesworth announced, "which I have not opened.One, I think, is from the Marchioness of Westhampton, the other fromsome solicitors at Truro. They were both marked private."

  Wingrave was at breakfast in his flat; Aynesworth had been in anadjoining room sorting his correspondence. He accepted the two letters,and glanced them through without remark. But whereas he bestowedscarcely a second's consideration upon the broad sheet of white paperwith the small coronet and the faint perfume of violets, the secondletter apparently caused him some annoyance. He read it through for asecond time with a slight frown upon his forehead.

  "You must cancel my engagements for two days, Aynesworth," he said. "Ihave to go out of town."

  Aynesworth nodded.

  "There's nothing very special on," he remarked. "Do you want me to gowith you?"

  "It is not necessary," Wingrave answered. "I am going," he added, aftera moment's pause, "to Cornwall."

  Aynesworth was immediately silent. The one time when Wingrave had spokento him as an employer, was in answer to some question of his as to whathad eventually become of the treasures of Tredowen. He had always sincescrupulously avoided the subject.

  "Be so good as to look out the trains for me," Wingrave continued. "Icannot go until the afternoon," he added after a momentary pause. "Ihave an engagement for luncheon. Perhaps, if you are not too busy, youwill see that Morrison packs some things for me."

  He moved to the writing table, and wrote a few lines to the Marchioness,regretting that his absence from town would prevent his dining withher on the following day. Then he studied the money column in severalnewspapers for half an hour, and telephoned to his broker. At eleveno'clock, he rode for an hour in the quietest part of the park, avoiding,so far as possible, anyone he knew, and galloping whenever he could. Itwas the only form of exercise in which he was known to indulge althoughthe knowledge of English games, which he sometimes displayed, was alittle puzzling to some of his acquaintances. On his return, he madea simple but correct toilet, and at half-past one he met Lady Ruth atPrince's Restaurant.

  Lady Ruth's gown of dove color, with faint touches of blue, waseffective, and she knew it. Nevertheless, she was a little pale, and hermanner lacked that note of quiet languor which generally characterizedit. She talked rather more than usual, chattering idly about theacquaintances to whom she was continually nodding and bowing. Her facehardened a little as the Marchioness, on her way through the room with aparty of friends, stopped at their table.

  The two women exchanged the necessary number of inanities, then theMarchioness turned to Wingrave.

  "You won't forget that you are dining with me tomorrow?"

  Wingrave shook his head regretfully.

  "I am sorry," he said, "but I have to go out of town. I have justwritten you."

  "What a bore," she remarked. "Business, of course!"

  She nodded and passed on. Her farewell to Lady Ruth was distinctly curt.Wingrave resumed his seat and his luncheon without remark.

  "Hateful woman," Lady Ruth murmured.

  "I thought you were friends," Wingrave remarked.

  "Yes, we are," Lady Ruth assented, "the sort of friendship you men don'tknow much about. You see a good deal of her, don't you?"

  Wingrave raised his head and looked at Lady Ruth contemplatively.

  "Why do you ask me that?" he asked.

  "Curiosity!"

  "I do," he remarked; "you should be grateful to her."

  "Why?"

  "It may save you a similar infliction."

  Lady Ruth was silent for several moments.

  "Perhaps," she said at last, "I do not choose to be relieved."

  Wingrave bowed, his glass in his hand. His lips were curled into thesemblance of a smile, but he did not say a word. Lady Ruth leaned alittle across the table so that the feathers of her hat nearly brushedhis forehead.

  "Wingrave," she asked, "do you know what fear is? Perhaps not! You area man, you see. No one has ever called me a coward. You wouldn't, wouldyou?"

  "No!" he said deliberately, "you are not a coward."

  "There is only one sort of fear which I know," she continued, "and thatis the fear of what I do not understand. And that is why, Wingrave, I amafraid of you."

  He set down his glass, and his fingers trifled for a moment with itsstem. His expression was inscrutable.

  "Surely," he said, "you are not serious!"

  "I am serious," she declared, "and you know that I am."

  "You are afraid of me," he repeated softly. "I wonder why."

  She looked him straight in the eyes.

  "Because," she said, "I did you once a very grievous wrong. Because Iknow that you have not forgiven me. Because I am very sure that all thegood that was in you lies slain."

  "By whose hand?" he asked quietly. "No! You need not answer. You know.So do I. Yes, I can understand your fear. But I do not understand whyyou confess it to me."

  "Nor I," she answered. "Nor do I understand why I am here--at yourbidding, nor why I keep you always by my side whenever you choose totake your place there. Are you a vain man, Wingrave? Do you wish to poseas the friend of a woman whom the world has thought too ambitious towaste time upon such follies? There is the Marchioness! She would do youmore credit still."

  "Thank you," he answered. "I like to choose the path myself when I passinto the maze of follies!"

  "You have not yet explained yourself," she reminded him. "Of all peoplein world, you have chosen us for your presumptive friends. Why? Youhate us both. You know that you do. Is it part of a scheme? Lumley isinvesting money on your advice, I am allowing myself to be seen aboutwith you more than is prudent--considering all things. Do you wantto rake out the ashes of our domestic hearth--to play the partof--melodramatic villain? You are ingenious enough, and powerfulenough."

  "You put strange ideas into my head," he told her lightly. "Why shouldI not play the part that you suggest? It might be amusing, and youcertainly deserve all the evil which I could bring upon you."

  She leaned a little across the table towards him. Her eyes were softand bright, and they looked full into his. The color in her cheeks wasnatural. The air around him was faintly fragrant with the perfume of herclothes and hair.

  "We couldn't leave off playing at the game--and act it, could we?" shemurmured. "We couldn't really--be friends?"

  Lady Ruth had played her trump card. She had touched his fingers withhers, her eyes shone with the promise of unutterable things. But ifWingrave was moved, he did not show it.

  "I wish," he said, "that I could accept your offer in the spiritwith which you tender it. Unfortunately, I am a maimed person. Mysensibilities have gone. Friendship, in the more intimate sense ofthe word, I may never hope to feel again. Enmity--well, that is morecomprehensible; even enmity," he continued slowly, "which might prompt awoman to disguise herself as her own lady's maid, to seek out a toolto get rid of the man she feared. Pardon me, Lady Ruth, you are eatingnothing."

  She pulled down her veil.

  "Thank you, I have finished," she said in a low tone.

  He called for the bill.

  "Pray, don't let my little remark distress you," he said. "I had almostforgotten the circumstance until something you said brought it intomy mind. It is you yourself, you must remember, who set the example ofcandor."

  "I deserve everything you can say," she murmured, "everything you cando. There is nothing left, I suppose, but suffering. Will you take meout to my carriage? You can come back and have your coffee with theMarchioness! She keeps looking across at you, and it will please her tothink that you got rid of me."

  He glanced at his watch.

  "I am afraid," he said, rising, "that I must deny myself the pleasure ofseeking the Marchioness again today. I have a train to catch in half anhour. You are ready?"

  "Quite!"

  They made their way through the maze of tables towards the door, LadyRuth exchanging greetings right and left with he
r friends, although thetall, grave-looking man who followed her was by far the greater objectof interest.

  "Just like Ruth to keep him in her pocket," remarked her dearest friend,looking after them; "they say that he has millions."

  She sighed a little enviously.

  "The Barrington menage needs a little backing up," her companionremarked. "I should say that he had come just in time. The Marchionesshas her eye upon him too. There may be some fun presently."

  Lady Ruth's dearest friend smiled.

  "I will back Ruth," she said drily. "Emily is beautiful, but she is tooobvious, and too eager! Ruth's little ways are more subtle. Besides,look at the start she has. She isn't the sort of woman men tire of."

  Lady Ruth held out her hand through the window of her electric coupe.

  "Thank you for my luncheon," she said. "When shall we see you again?"

  "In a few days," he answered, standing bareheaded upon the pavement. "Ishall call directly I return."

  Lady Ruth nodded and leaned back. Wingrave smiled faintly as he turnedaway. He had seen the little shudder which she had done her best tohide!

  Lady Ruth found her husband at home, writing letters in his study. Shesank wearily into a chair by his side.

  "Been lunching out?" he inquired.

  She nodded.

  "At Prince's, with Wingrave."

  He made no remark, but he seemed far from displeased.

  "If I'd only had the pluck," he remarked a little disconsolately, "Imight have made thousands by following his advice this week. It was youwho put me off, too!"

  "It turned out all right?" she asked.

  "Exactly as he said. I made five hundred! I might just as well have madefive thousand."

  "Can you let me have a couple of hundred?" she asked. "The people areall bothering so."

  "You know that I can't," he answered irritably. "I had to send the lotto Lewis, and then it wasn't a quarter of what he is pressing for. Weshall never get through the season, Ruth, unless--"

  She raised her eyes.

  "Unless what?"

  "Unless something turns up!"

  There was a short, uncomfortable silence. Lady Ruth rose to her feet andstood facing the fireplace with her back to him.

  "Lumley," she said, "let's face it!"

  He gave a little start.

  "Face what?" he inquired.

  "Ruin, the Bankruptcy Court, and all the rest of it!" she declared, anote of defiance creeping into her tone.

  Her husband's face was white with astonishment. He stared across at herblankly.

  "Are you mad, Ruth?" he exclaimed. "Do you know what you are saying?"

  "Quite well," she answered. "I'm a little sick of the whole show. Thetradespeople are getting impertinent. I don't even know where to getflowers for dinner tonight or where to go for my Ascot gowns. It mustcome sooner or later."

  "You're talking like a fool," he declared harshly. "Do you know that Ishould have to give up my seat and my clubs?"

  "We could live quietly in the country."

  "Country be--hanged!" he exclaimed savagely. "What use is the country toyou and me? I'd sooner put a bullet through my brain. Ruth, old lady,"he added more gently, "what's gone wrong? You're generally such a wellplucked'un! Have you--had a row with Wingrave?" he asked, looking at heranxiously.

  "No!"

  "Then what is it?"

  "Nothing! I've lost my nerve, I suppose!"

  "You want a change! It isn't so very long to Cowes now and, thankheavens, that'll cost us nothing. We're going on Wingrave's yacht,aren't we?"

  "Yes! We did accept."

  Barrington fidgeted for a moment with a paper knife.

  "Ruth," he asked, "what's wrong between you and Wingrave?"

  "Nothing," she answered; "I'm afraid of him, that's all!"

  "Afraid of him! Afraid of Wingrave!" he repeated.

  "Yes! I do not think that he has forgotten. I think that he means tomake us suffer."

  Barrington was almost dignified.

  "I never heard such nonsense in my life, Ruth!" he exclaimed. "I havewatched Wingrave closely, and I have seen no trace of anything ofthe sort. Nonsense! It is worse than nonsense! You must be gettinghysterical. You must get all this rubbish out of your head. To tell youthe truth--"

  "Well?"

  "I was thinking that you might ask Wingrave to help us a bit. I don'tbelieve he'd hesitate for a moment."

  Ruth looked her husband in the face. There was a curious expression inher eyes.

  "Do you think that it would be wise of me to ask him?" she demanded.

  "Why not?" he answered. "You can take care of yourself. I can trustyou."

  "I told you that I was afraid of Wingrave," she reminded him. "I cantake care of myself as a rule--and I do--as you know. I have elected tobe one of the unfashionables in that respect. But to ask Wingrave formoney is more than I dare do."

  "Then I shall ask him myself," Barrington declared.

  She picked up her gloves and turned to leave the room.

  "I should prefer even that," she said.