beat trueand loyal; that in strength of character, in disposition, in grace andin beauty she was peerless.
For a long time I held her hand, feeling, I think, some satisfaction inthus repeating the action of other times, now that I had to bid farewellto all my hopes and aspirations. She sat silent, troubled sighsescaping her as I spoke, telling her of that strange, midnight adventurein the streets of Kensington, and of how near I had been to death.
"Then, knowing that you have gained the secret written upon the cards,they have made an attempt to seal your lips," she said at last, in ahard, mechanical voice, almost as though speaking to herself. "Ah! didI not warn you of that in my letter? Did I not tell you that the secretis so well and ingeniously guarded that you will never succeed in eitherlearning it or profiting by it?"
"But I intend to persevere in the solution of the mystery of yourfather's fortune," I declared, still with her hand in mine, in sad andbitter farewell. "He left his secret to me, and I have determined tostart out to Italy to-morrow to search the spot indicated, and to learnthe truth."
"Then you can just save yourself that trouble, mister," exclaimed thevoice of a common, uneducated man, startling me, and on turningsuddenly, I saw that the door had opened noiselessly, and there upon thethreshold, watching us with apparent satisfaction, was the man who stoodbetween me and my well-beloved--that clean-shaven, skulking fellow whoclaimed her by the sacred name of wife!
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
FACE TO FACE.
"I'd much like to know what your business is 'ere?" demanded thecoarse-featured fellow, whose grey bowler hat and gaiters gave him adistinctly horsey appearance. And as he stood in the doorway, he foldedhis arms defiantly and looked me straight in the face.
"My business is my own affair," I answered, facing him in disgust.
"If it concerns my wife, I have a right to know," he persisted.
"Your wife!" I cried, advancing towards him, with difficulty repressingthe strong impulse within me to knock the young ruffian down. "Don'tcall her your wife, fellow! Call her by her true name--your victim!"
"Do you mean that as an insult?" he exclaimed quickly, his face turningwhite with sudden anger, whereupon Mabel, seeing his threateningattitude, sprang between us and begged me to be calm.
"There are some men whom no words can insult," I replied forcibly. "Andyou are one of them."
"What do you mean?" he cried. "Do you wish to pick a quarrel?" and hecame forward with clenched fists.
"I desire no quarrel," was my quick response. "I only order you toleave this lady in peace. She may be legally your wife, but I willstand as her protector."
"Oh!" he sneered, with curling lip. "And I'd like to know by what rightyou interfere between us?"
"By the common right every man has to shield an unprotected andpersecuted woman," I replied, firmly. "I know you, and am well aware ofyour shameful past. Shall I recall one incident, that, now you attemptto defy me, you appear to have conveniently forgotten? Do you notrecollect a certain night in the park at Mayvill not so very long ago,and do you not recollect that you there attempted to commit a foul andbrutal murder--eh?"
He started quickly, then glared at me with the fire of a murderoushatred in his eyes.
"She's told you, damn her! She's given me away!" he exclaimed, with acontemptuous glance at his trembling wife.
"No, she has not," was my response. "I myself chanced to be witness ofyour dastardly attempt upon her. It was I who succeeded in rescuing herfrom the river. For that action of yours you must now answer to me."
"What do you mean?" he inquired, and from the lines in his countenance Isaw that my outspoken manner caused him considerable uneasiness.
"I mean that it is not for you to attempt defiance, having regard to thefact that, had it not been for the fortunate circumstance of my presencein the park, you would to-day be a murderer."
He shrank at that final word. Like all his class, he was arrogant andoverbearing to the weak, but as easily cowed by firmness as a dog whocringes at his master's voice.
"And now," I continued, "I may as well tell you that, on the night whenyou would have killed this poor woman who is your victim, I alsooverheard your demands. You are a blackmailer--the meanest and worsttype of criminal humanity--and you seem to have forgotten that there isa severe and stringent law against such an offence as yours. Youdemanded money by threats, and on refusal made a desperate endeavour totake your wife's life. In the assize court the evidence I could giveagainst you would put you into a term of penal servitude--youunderstand? Therefore I'll make this compact with you; if you willpromise not to molest your wife further, I will remain silent."
"And who the deuce are you, pray, to talk to me in this manner--like agaol chaplain on his weekly round!"
"You'd better keep a civil tongue, fellow, and just reflect upon mywords," I said. "I'm no man for argument. I act."
"Act just as you like. I shall do as I think proper--you hear?"
"And you'll take the risk? Very well," I said. "You know the worst--prison."
"And you don't," he laughed. "Otherwise you wouldn't talk like a sillyidiot. Mabel is my wife, and you've no say in the matter, so that'senough for you," he added insultingly. "Instead of trying to threatenme, it is I who have a right to demand why I find you here--with her."
"I'll tell you!" I cried angrily, my hands itching to give the impudentyoung blackguard a sound good hiding. "I'm here to protect her, becauseshe is in fear of her life. And I shall remain here until you havegone."
"But I'm her husband, therefore I shall stay," sneered the fellow,perfectly unmoved.
"Then she leaves with me," I said decisively.
"I'll not allow that."
"You will act just as I think proper," I exclaimed. Then, turning toMabel, who had remained white, silent and trembling, in fear lest weshould come to blows, I said, "Put on your hat and coat at once. Youmust return to London with me."
"She shall not!" he cried, unflinchingly. "If my curses could blast yeryou'd have 'em thick."
"Mabel," I said, taking no notice of the ruffian's words, but drawingback to allow her to pass out, "please get your coat. I have a flywaiting outside."
The fellow made a movement as though to prevent her leaving the room,but in an instant my hand was heavily upon his shoulder, and by my facehe saw that I was strong and determined.
"You'll repent this!" he hissed threateningly, with an imprecation,between his teeth. "I know what you are searching for--but," helaughed, "you'll never obtain that secret which gave Blair his millions.You think you've a clue to it, but before long you'll discover yourmistake."
"In what?"
"In not uniting with me, instead of insulting me."
"I have no necessity for the assistance of any man who would kill ahelpless woman," I responded. "Recollect that in this affair you holdaloof from her, or, by Gad! without further ado, I'll seek the aid ofthe police, when your past history will prove rather unwelcome evidenceof character."
"Do what you like," he laughed again defiantly. "By giving me over tothe police you'll only be doing her the worst turn possible. If youdoubt me, you'd better ask her. Be careful how you act before you makea fool of yourself and a victim of her." And with this harsh, hollowsneer he threw himself into the armchair and placed his feet on thefender in an attitude of carelessness and calmly lit a cheap, rankcigar.
"There will be only one sufferer, never fear," I said meaningly. "Andthat will be yourself."
"All right," he said, "we shall see."
Then turning I left the room, and meeting Mabel, who stood ready dressedin the hall, whispering a hurried adieu to Bessie Wood, her oldschoolfellow, I hurried her out, put her into the station fly, and drovewith her back to Chipping Norton.
Even then, however, I could not understand the exact position of thatyoung ruffian, Herbert Hales, or the true meaning of his final ominouswords of open defiance.
For the present I had rescued my love from t
he arrogant, cold-bloodedbrute and blackmailer, but for how brief a space I dreaded toanticipate. My own position, utterly in the dark as I remained, was oneof uncertainty and insecurity. I loved Mabel, but now had no right todo so. She was already the wife, alas! the victim, of a man of low typeand of criminal instinct.
Our journey up to Paddington was uneventful, and in almost completesilence. Both our hearts, beating sadly, were too full for mere words.The insurmountable barrier had