The Wicked Marquis Read online

  CHAPTER XXVI

  David Thain, a few hours later, lounged in a basket chair in the onecorner of his lawn from which he could catch, through the hedge of yewtrees, a furtive glimpse of Mandeleys. By his side stood a smallcoffee equipage and an unopened box of cigars; in the distance was thevanishing figure of the quiet-mannered and very excellent butler withwhom a famous registry office had endowed his household. It was anhour of supreme ease. An unusually warm day was succeeded by anevening from which only the warmth of the sun had departed, an eveningfull of scents from flowers and shrubs alike, an evening during whichthe thrushes prolonged their music until, from somewhere in the distantgroves at the back of the house, a nightingale commenced, like thetuning up of an orchestra, to make faint but sweet essays at continuedsong. It was as light as day but there were stars already in the sky,and a pale, colourless moon was there, waiting for the slowly movingmantle of twilight. David Thain was alone with his thoughts.

  They had started somewhere in the background, in the first throb andexcitement of life, in the moment when his lips had framed thathorrible oath which held him now in its meshes. Then had come the realstruggle, years of brilliant successes, the final coup, the stepping ina single day on to one of those pedestals which a great republic keepsfor her most worshipped sons. Always it seemed to him that there wasthat old man in the background, waiting. At last had come thequestion. Yes, he was ready. He had come to England a littleprotesting, a little incredulous, always believing that those fiercefires which had burned for so long in the grey-haired, patient old manwould have burned themselves out, or would become softened bysentimental associations as soon as he set foot in his native place.David's awakening was complete and disconcerting. The fury of RichardVont showed no signs of abatement. He found himself committed alreadyto one loathsome enterprise--and there was the future. He looked downgloomily at the magnificent pile below, with its many chimneys, itsstretching front and far-reaching wings, and some echo of thebitterness which raged in the old man who sat and watched at its gates,found an echo in his own heart. He remembered the amusement with whichthat subtle but absolutely natural air of superiority, on the part offather and daughter alike, had first imbued him. Their very kindness,the frank efforts of the Marquis, as well as of Lady Letitia, to leadhim into some channel of conversation in which he could easily expresshimself was the kindness of those belonging to another world andfearing lest the consciousness of it might depress their visitor. Andwith his resentment was mingled another feeling; not exactlyacquiescence--his American education had been too strong for that--butadmiration for those inherent gifts which seemed to bring with them acertain grace, carried into even the smaller matters of life. Perhapshe exaggerated to himself their importance as he sat there in the softgathering twilight, poured out his neglected coffee and still playedwith his unlighted cigar. The rooks had ceased to caw above his head.Some of the peace of night was stealing down upon the land. In thewindows of Mandeleys little pinpricks of light were beginning to show.

  The iron hand-gate which led from the park into his domain was suddenlyopened and closed. The way led through a grove of trees and throughanother gate into the garden. He turned his head and watched the spotwhere the figure of his visitor must appear. It was curious that fromthe first, although his common sense should have told him howimpossible such a thing was, he had an intuitive presentiment as to whothis visitor might be. He laid down the unlighted cigar upon his tableand leaned a little forward in his chair. First he heard footstepsfalling softly upon a carpet of pine needles and yielding turf, slowlytoo, as though the movements of their owner were in a sense reluctant.And then a slim, tall figure in white--a familiar figure! He was up ina moment, striding forwards. She had already passed through the gate,however, and was moving towards him across the lawn.

  "Lady Letitia!" he exclaimed.

  She nodded.

  "Please don't look as though I'd done anything so terribly unusual,"she begged. "What a pleasant spot you have chosen for your coffee!"

  David's new treasure proved fully equal to the occasion. From someunseen point of vantage he seemed to have foretold the coming of thisvisitor, and prepared to minister to her entertainment. Lady Letitiasank into her chair and praised the coffee.

  "So much better than the stuff we have been trying to drink," she toldDavid. "I must bring dad round one evening. He loves good coffee.How beautiful your trees are!"

  "Your trees," he reminded her.

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  "It seems ages since I was here," she remarked. "Sylvia was away whenwe were down last, and dad and Colonel Laycey were annoyed with oneanother about some repairs. You don't want any repairs, do you, Mr.Thain?"

  "I have arranged to do whatever is necessary myself," David told her,"in consideration of a somewhat reduced rent."

  "I am glad you consider it reduced!" Letitia observed. "Of course, youthink I am mad to come and see you like this, don't you?" she added alittle aggressively.

  "Not in the least," he replied. "I should not have ventured to haveexpected such a visit, but now that you are here it seems quitenatural."

  "After all, why isn't it?" she agreed. "I walked round the gardenonce, thinking about a certain matter in which you are concerned, andthen I walked in the park, and it occurred to me that you wouldprobably be sitting out here, only a few hundred yards away, just asyou are doing, and that you could, if you would, set my mind at rest."

  "If I can do that," he said, "I am very glad that you came."

  "I am going to unburden my mind, then," she continued. "It is aboutthose shares you sold father, Mr. Thain."

  His manner seemed, to her quick apprehension, instantly to stiffen.Nevertheless, he was expectant. He was willing to go through a gooddeal if only he could hear her voice for once falter, if even her tonewould lose its half-wearied, half-insolent note, if she would raise hereyes and speak to him as woman to man.

  "The Pluto Oil shares," he murmured. "Well?"

  "Of course, father hadn't the least right to buy them," she went on,"because we haven't a penny in the world, and he couldn't possibly payfor them unless they fetched as much, when the payment fell due, as hegave for them. I am rather stupid at these things, Mr. Thain, but youunderstand?"

  "Perfectly!"

  Her long fingers stole into the cigarette box. She accepted a lightfrom him and leaned back once more in her chair.

  "Father," she proceeded, "has the most implicit faith in everybody.The fact that you are an American millionaire was ample proof to himthat anything in the way of shares you possessed must be worth a greatdeal more than their face value. I do not know what led to his buyingthem--you probably do. Did he asked for any assurances as to theirintrinsic value?"

  "I warned him," David said, "that they were entirely a speculation. Heasked my advice as to some way of raising a large sum of money, muchlarger than he could hope to gain by any ordinary enterprise. Ipresumed that he was willing to speculate and I suggested these shares.They certainly are as speculative as any man could desire."

  "Are they worth any more now than when father bought them?" sheenquired.

  "To the best of my belief they have not moved," he replied. "As amatter of fact, they have not yet had a chance to prove themselves."

  "They are still worth a dollar a share, then?"

  "They are worth a dollar a share as much as they were when your fatherbought them."

  She turned her head and looked at him.

  "My father," she said, "declines to ask you any questions. He wouldconsider it in bad taste to suggest for a moment that he felt anyuneasiness with regard to the necessary payment for them. He is nonethe less, however, worried. He was foolish enough to tell his lawyersabout them, and lawyers, I am afraid, have very little faith in him asa business man. The result of the enquiries they made was mostdepressing."

  "It probably would be," David assented.

  "Forty thousand pounds' worth of shares,"
Letitia continued, "which areworth as much now as when my father bought them, are, I suppose,nothing to you. I wondered whether you would object to have them backagain? I think that it would relieve my father's mind."

  Thain was silent for a moment. He had lit a cigar now and was smokingsteadily.

  "You have not much idea of business, Lady Letitia," he remarked.

  "Business?" she repeated, with a note of surprise in her tone. "Howshould I have? There are certain matters of common sense and of honourwhich I suppose are common to every one of reasonable intelligence.There did not seem to me to be any principle of business involved inthis."

  "Supposing," David said, "the shares had risen and were worth twodollars to-day, you would not in that case, I presume, have honoured mewith this visit?"

  "Certainly not," she replied.

  "I did not sell those shares to your father as an act of philanthropy,"he continued. "He asked me to show him a speculation, and I showed himthis. Those shares, so far as I know, are as likely to be worth fivetimes their value next week, or nothing at all. I am a very largeholder, and it seemed to me that it would be a reasonable act ofprudence to sell a few of them at a price which showed me a smallmargin of profit."

  "Profit?" she repeated wonderingly. "Are you in need of profit?"

  "It is the poison of wealth," he observed. "One is always trying toadd to what one has."

  She turned her head and looked at him intently. For a moment she wasalmost startled. There was something unreal in the sound of his words.Something that was almost a foreboding chilled her.

  "Mr. Thain," she said calmly.

  "Yes?"

  "Had you any reason--any special reason, I mean--for selling thoseshares to my father?"

  His face was inscrutable.

  "What reason should I have, Lady Letitia?"

  "I can't imagine any," she replied, "and yet--for a moment I thoughtthat you were talking artificially. I probably did you an injustice.I am sorry."

  David's teeth came together. There was lightning in his eyes as heglanced down through the trees towards Vont's little cottage.

  "Don't apologise too soon, Lady Letitia," he warned her.

  She raised her eyebrows.

  "I am not accustomed to think the worst of people," she said. "I canscarcely picture to myself any person, already inordinately wealthy,singling out my father as a victim for his further cupidity. Let mereturn to the question which I have already asked you. Would you care,without letting my father know of this visit and my request, to returnhis cheque or promissory note, or whatever it was, in exchange forthese shares?"

  "I am not even sure, Lady Letitia," he reminded her, after a moment'spause, "that your father wishes this."

  "You can, I think, take my word that it would be a relief to him," sheasserted.

  He pondered for a few moments. The light through the trees seemed tobe burning brighter in Vont's sitting room.

  "I will be frank with you, Lady Letitia," he said. "There has been noincrease in the value of these shares. The news which I have expectedconcerning them has not arrived. The transaction, therefore, is onewhich at the present moment would probably entail a loss. Do you wishme to make your father a present of twenty or thirty thousand pounds?"

  She rose deliberately to her feet and shook the few grains of cigaretteash from her dress. The cigarette itself she threw into a laurel bush.

  "I understand," she remarked, "what you implied when you said thatwomen did not understand business."

  Her tone was unhurried, her manner expressed no indignation. Yet asshe strolled towards the gate, David felt the colour drained from hischeeks, felt the wicker sides of his chair crash in the grip of hisfingers. He rose and hurried after her.

  "Lady Letitia," he began impulsively--

  She turned upon him as though surprised.

  "Pray do not trouble to escort me home," she begged.

  "It isn't that," he went on, falling into step by her side. "You makeme feel like a thief."

  "Are you not a thief?" she asked. "I have been told that nearly allvery rich men are thieves. I begin to understand that it may be so."

  "It is possible to juggle with money honestly," he assured her.

  "It is also possible, I suppose," she observed, with faint sarcasm, "tolower the standard of honesty. Thank you," she added, as she passedthrough the second gate, "you perhaps did not understand me. I shouldprefer to return alone."

  "I am going your way," he insisted desperately.

  "My way?" she repeated. "But there is nowhere to go to, unless you areproposing to honour us with a call at Mandeleys."

  "I am going in to see old Richard Vont," he said.

  She laughed in surprised fashion.

  "What, the old man who sits and curses us! Is he a friend of yours?"

  "He was on the steamer, coming home," David reminded her. "I told youso before. I take an interest in him."

  His point now was momentarily gained, and he walked unhindered by herside. The soft twilight had fallen around them, little wreaths of mistwere floating across the meadows, the birds were all silent. Thepathway led through another narrow grove of trees. As they neared thegate, Letitia hesitated.

  "I think it is just as near across the meadow," she said.

  He held open the gate for her.

  "You had better stay on the path," he advised. "The grass is wet andyour shoes are thin."

  She looked into his face, still hesitating. Then she swiftly droppedher eyes. The man must be mad! Nevertheless, she seemed for a momentto lose her will. The gate had fastened behind them with a sharpclick. They were in the grove. The way was very narrow and the firtrees almost black. There was only a glimpse of deep blue sky to beseen ahead and in front. The pigeons rustled their wings, and a greatowl lumbered across the way. Something happened to Letitia then whichhad never happened before. She felt both her hands gripped by a man's,felt herself powerless in his grasp.

  "Lady Letitia," he exclaimed feverishly, "don't think I'm a fool! I'llnot ask for what you haven't got to give--me. You shall have yourfather's note--you shall have--for him--what will make him free, ifyou'll only treat me like a human being--if you'll be--kind--a littlekinder."

  Her eyes flashed at him through the darkness, yet he could see that onething at least he had achieved. Her bosom was rising and fallingquickly, her voice shook as she answered him. For the first time hehad penetrated that intolerable reserve.

  "Are you mad?" she cried. "Are you trying to buy me?"

  "How else should I win even a kind glance?" he answered bitterly.

  "You mistake me for a railroad system," she mocked.

  "I have never mistaken you for anything but a woman," was the vibratingreply. "The only trouble is that to me you always posture as somethingelse."

  His hands were burning upon her wrists, but she showed no resentment.

  "Is this the way," she asked, "that Americans woo? Do they imprisonthe lady of their choice in some retired spot and make a cash offer fortheir affections? You are at least original, Mr. Thain!"

  "If I can't bring myself to ask you in plain words what I am cravingfor," he answered hoarsely, "you can guess why. I know very well thatthere is only one thing about me that counts in your eyes. I know thatI should be only an appendage to the money that would make your fatherhappy and Mandeleys free. And yet I don't care. I want you--youfirst, and then yourself."

  "You have some faith, then, in your eligibility--and your methods ofpersuasion?" she observed.

  "Haven't I reason?" he retorted. "You people here are all filled upwith rotten, time-exploded notions, bound with silken bonds,worshippers of false gods. You don't see the truth--you don't know it.I am not sure that I blame you, for it's a beautiful slavery, and butfor the ugly realities of life you'd prosper in it and have childrenjust as wonderful and just as ignorant. But, you see, the times arechanging. I am one of the signs of them."

  "If this were an i
mpersonal discussion," Letitia began, struggling tocompose her voice--

  "But it isn't," he broke in. "I am speaking of you and of me, and noone else. I'm fool enough to love you, to be mad about you! Foolenough to make you an offer of which any man with a grain ofself-respect should be ashamed."

  "I quite agree with you," she said smoothly. "Perhaps it will end thisvery interesting little episode if I tell you that I am engaged tomarry Lord Charles Grantham, and that he is coming down to-morrow."

  He released her hands--flung them from him almost.

  "Is this the truth?" he demanded.

  She laughed lightly.

  "Why on earth," she asked, "should I take the trouble to tell youanything else?"

  He pointed to the path.

  "Get on," he ordered.

  She found herself obeying him--without resentment, even. When theyreached the gate that led into the park, he held it open and remained.She hesitated for a moment.

  "You are going to leave me to brave the perils of the rest of thejourney alone?" she asked.

  He made no answer. She lifted her skirts a little, for the dew wasbecoming heavier, and made her graceful way down the slope and acrossthe bridge to the postern gate. Arrived there, she looked round.David Thain had vanished back into the grove.

  Letitia made her way into her own room and closed the door. She litboth of the candles upon her dressing table, pulled back the lace ofher sleeves and looked at her wrists. There were two red marks there,red marks which, as she stared at them, seemed suddenly again to feelthe iron pressure. She stared at them, half in surprise, without angerand yet with a curious emotion. Suddenly she found that she wastrembling, obsessed with a strange yet irresistible impulse. She bentdown and lightly kissed the flaming marks. Then she blew out thecandles, threw herself into the easy-chair which, earlier in the day,she had drawn up to the window, and looked steadily back into the parknow fast becoming a phantasy of shadowland.