The Malefactor Read online

  THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES

  Mr. Lumley Barrington, K.C. and M.P., was in the act of stepping intohis carriage to drive down to the House, when he was intercepted by amessage. It was his wife's maid, who came hurrying out after him.

  "I beg your pardon, sir," she said, "but her ladyship particularlywished to see you as soon as you came in."

  "Is your mistress in?" Barrington asked in some surprise.

  "Yes, sir!" the maid answered. "Her ladyship is resting, before she goesto the ball at Caleram House. She is in her room now."

  "I will come up at once," Barrington said.

  He kept the carriage waiting while he ascended to his wife's room. Therewas no answer to his knock. He opened the door softly. She was asleep ona couch drawn up before the fire.

  He crossed the room noiselessly, and stood looking down upon her.Her lithe, soft figure had fallen into a posture of graceful, almostvoluptuous ease; the ribbons and laces of her muslin dressing gownquivered gently with her deep regular breathing. She had thrown off herslippers, and one long, slender foot was exposed; the other was doubledup underneath her body. Her face was almost like the face of a child,smooth and unwrinkled, save for one line by the eyes where she laughed.He looked at her steadfastly. Could the closing of the eyes, indeed,make all the difference? Life and the knowledge of life seemed thingsfar from her consciousness. Could one look like that--even in sleep--andunderneath--! Barrington broke away from his train of thought, and wokeher quickly.

  She sat up and yawned.

  "Parsons managed to catch you, then," she remarked.

  "Yes!" he answered. "I was just off. I got away from Wills' dinnerparty early, and called here for some notes. I must be at the House"--heglanced at the clock--"in three-quarters of an hour!"

  She nodded. "I won't keep you as long as that."

  Her eyes met his, a little furtively, full of inquiry. "I have done whatyou wished," he said quietly. "I called at the Clarence Hotel!"

  "You saw him!"

  "No! He sent back my card. He declined to see me."

  She showed no sign of disappointment. She sat up and looked into thefire, smoothing her hair mechanically with her hands.

  "Personally," Barrington continued, "I could see no object whatever inmy visit. I have nothing to say to him, nor, I should think, he to me. Iam sorry for him, of course, but he'd never believe me if I told him so.What happened to him was partly my fault, and unless he's changed, he'snot likely to forget it."

  She swayed a little towards him.

  "It was partly--also--mine," she murmured.

  "I don't see that at all," he objected. "You at any rate wereblameless!"

  She looked up at him, and he was astonished to find how pale she was.

  "I was not!" she said calmly.

  There was a short silence. Barrington had the air of a man who hasreceived a shock.

  "Ruth!" he exclaimed, glancing towards the door, and speaking almostin a whisper. "Do you mean--that there are things which I have neverknown?"

  "Yes!" she answered. "I mean that he might, if he chose, do us now--bothof us--an immense amount of harm."

  Barrington sat down at the end of the sofa. He knew his wife well enoughto understand that this was serious.

  "Let us understand one another, Ruth," he said quietly. "I alwaysthought that you were a little severe on Wingrave at the trial! He maybear you a grudge for that; it is very possible that he does. But whatcan he do now? He had his chance to cross examine you, and he let it goby."

  "He has some letters of mine," Lady Ruth said slowly.

  "Letters! Written before the trial?"

  "Yes!"

  "Why did he not make use of them there?"

  "If he had," Lady Ruth said, with her eyes fixed upon the carpet, "thesympathy would have been the other way. He would have got off with amuch lighter sentence, and you--would not have married me!"

  "Good God!" Barrington muttered.

  "You see," Lady Ruth continued, resting her hand upon her husband's coatsleeve, "the thing happened all in a second. I had the check in my handwhen you and Sir William came crashing through that window, andSir William's eyes were upon me. The only way to save myself was torepudiate it, and let Wingrave get out of the affair as well as hecould. Of course, I never guessed what was going to happen."

  "Then it was Wingrave," Barrington muttered, "who played the game?"

  "Yes!" Lady Ruth answered quietly. "But I am not so sure about him now.You and I, Lumley, know one another a little better today than wedid twelve years ago. We have had a few of the corners knocked off, Isuppose. I can tell you things now I didn't care to then. Wingrave hadlent me money before! He has letters from me today, thanking him forit."

  Barrington was a large, florid man, well built and well set up. In courthe presented rather a formidable appearance with his truculent chin, hisstraight, firm mouth, and his commanding presence. Yet there was nothingabout him now which would have inspired fear in the most nervous ofwitnesses. He looked like a man all broken up by some unexpected shock.

  "If he had produced those letters--at the trial--"

  Lady Ruth shrugged her shoulders.

  "I risked it, anyhow," she said. "I had to. My story was the only onewhich gave me a dog's chance, and I didn't mean to go under--then.Wingrave never gave me away, but I fancy he's feeling differently aboutit now!"

  "How do you know, Ruth?"

  "I have seen him! He sent for me!" she answered. "Lumley, don't look atme like that! We're not in the nursery, you and I. I went because I hadto. He's going to America for a time, and then he's coming back here. Ithink that when he comes back--he means mischief!"

  "He is not the sort of man to forget," Barrington said, half to himself.

  She shuddered ever so slightly. Then she stretched out a long white arm,and drawing his head suddenly down to her, kissed him on the lips.

  "If only," she murmured, "he would give up the letters! Without them, hemight say--anything. No one would believe!"

  Barrington raised his eyes to hers. There was something almost patheticin the worshiping light which shone there. He was, as he had alwaysbeen, her abject slave.

  "Can you think of any way?" he asked. "Shall I go to him again?"

  "Useless!" she answered. "You have nothing to offer in exchange. Hewould not give them to me. He surely would not give them to you. Shall Itell you what is in his mind? Listen, then! He is rich now; he meansto make more money there. Then he will return, calling himself Mr.Wingrave--an American--with imaginary letters of introduction to us. Hehas ambitions--I don't know what they are, but they seem to entail hisholding some sort of a place in society. We are to be his sponsors."

  "Is it practicable?" he asked.

  "Quite," she answered. "He is absolutely unrecognizable now. He haschanged cruelly. Can't you imagine the horror of it? He will be alwaysin evidence; always with those letters in the background. He means tomake life a sort of torture chamber for us!"

  "Better defy him at once, and get over," Barrington said. "After all,don't you think that the harm he could do is a little imaginary?"

  She brushed the suggestion aside with a little shiver.

  "Shall I tell you what he would do, Lumley?" she said, leaning towardshim. "He would have my letters, and a copy of my evidence, printed in anelegant little volume and distributed amongst my friends. It would comeone day like a bomb, and nothing that you or I could do would alterit in the least. Your career and my social position would be ruined.Success brings enemies, you know, Lumley, and I have rather more than myshare."

  "Then we are helpless," he said.

  "Unless we can get the letters--or unless he should never return fromAmerica," she answered.

  Barrington moved uneasily in his seat. He knew very well that somescheme was already forming in his wife's brain.

  "If there is anything that I can do," he said in a low tone, "don't beafraid to tell me."

  "There is one chance," she answered, "a sort of forlorn hope
, but youmight try it. He has a secretary, a young man named Aynesworth. If hewere on our side--"

  "Don't you think," Barrington interrupted, "that you would have morechance with him than I?"

  She laughed softly.

  "You foolish man," she said, touching his fingers lightly. "I believeyou think that I am irresistible!"

  "I have seen a good many lions tamed," he reminded her.

  "Nonsense! Anyhow, there is one here who seems quite insensible. I havetalked already with Mr. Aynesworth. He would not listen to me!"

  "Ah!"

  "Nevertheless," she continued softy, "of one thing I am very sure. Everyman is like every woman; he is vulnerable if you can discover the rightspot and the right weapons. Mr. Aynesworth is not a woman's man, but Ifancy that he is ambitious. I thought that you might go and see him. Hehas rooms somewhere in Dorset Street."

  He rose to his feet. A glance at the clock reminded him of the hour.

  "I will go," he said. "I will do what I can. I think, dear," he added,bending over her to say farewell, "that you should have been the man!"

  She laughed softly.

  "Am I such a failure as a woman, then?" she asked with a swift upwardglance. "Don't be foolish, Lumley. My woman will be here to dress medirectly. You must really go away."

  He strode down the stairs with tingling pulses, and drove to the House,where his speech, a little florid in its rhetoric, and verbose as becamethe man, was nevertheless a great success.

  "Quite a clever fellow, Barrington," one of his acquaintances remarked,"when you get him away from his wife."