CHAPTER TWELVE
THE WORD OF A WOMAN
A week went by--a week of keen anxiety and apprehension.
Jack had spoken the truth when he had declared that it was my duty togo to Scotland Yard and reveal what I had discovered regarding thatdark house in Bayswater.
Yet somehow I felt that any such action on my part must necessarilyreflect upon my fair-haired divinity, that sweet, soft-spoken girl whohad warned me, and who, moreover, was my affinity.
Had you found yourself in such a position, how would you have acted?
Remember that, notwithstanding the veil of mystery which overspreadSylvia Pennington, I loved her, and tried to conceal the truth frommyself a hundred times, but it was impossible. She had warned me, andI, unfortunately, had not heeded. I had fallen into a trap, andwithout a doubt it had been she who had entered and rescued me from afate most horrible to contemplate.
I shuddered when I lived that hour of terror over again. I longed oncemore to see that pale, sweet, wistful face which was now ever in mydreams. Had not Shuttleworth told me that the grave lay between mylove and myself? And he had spoken the truth!
Jack met me at the club daily, but he only once referred to ourmidnight search and the gruesome discovery in the neglected garden.
Frequently it crossed my mind that Mad Harry might have watched thereunseen, and witnessed strange things. How many men reported to thepolice as missing had been interred in that private burying-ground ofthe assassins! I dreaded to think of it.
In vain I waited for Mr. Shuttleworth to call again. He had inquiredif I were at home, and, finding me absent, had gone away.
I therefore, a week later, made it an excuse to run down to Andoverand see him, hoping to obtain from him some further informationregarding Sylvia.
The afternoon was bright and warm, and the country looked its best,with the scent of new-mown hay in the air, and flowers everywhere, asI descended from the station fly and walked up the rectory garden tothe house.
The maid admitted me to the study, saying that Mr. Shuttleworth wasonly "down the paddock," and would be back in a few minutes. And as Iseated myself in the big, comfortable arm-chair, I saw, straightbefore me, in its frame the smiling face of the mysterious woman Iloved.
Through the open French windows came the warm sunlight, the song ofthe birds, and the drowsy hum of the insects. The lawn was marked fortennis, and beyond lay the paddock and the dark forest-border.
I had remained there some few minutes, when suddenly I heard a quickfootstep in the hall outside; then, next moment, the door was opened,and there, upon the threshold, stood Sylvia herself.
"You!" she gasped, starting back. "I--I didn't know you were here!"she stammered in confusion.
She was evidently a guest there, and was about to pass through thestudy into the garden. Charming in a soft white ninon gown and a bigwhite hat, she held a tennis-racket in her hand, presenting a prettypicture framed by the dark doorway.
"Sylvia!" I cried, springing forward to her in joy, and catching hersmall white trembling hand in mine. "Fancy you--here!"
She held her breath, suffering me to lead her into the room and toclose the door.
"I had no idea you were here," I said. "I--lost you the other day inRegent Street--I----"
She made a quick gesture, as though she desired me to refrain fromreferring to that incident. I saw that her cheeks were deadly pale,and that in her face was an expression of utter confusion.
"This meeting," she said slowly in a low voice, "is certainly anunexpected one. Mr. Shuttleworth doesn't know you are here, does he?"
"No," I replied. "He's down in the paddock, I believe."
"He has been called out suddenly," she said. "He's driven over toClatford with Mrs. Shuttleworth."
"And you are here alone?" I exclaimed quickly.
"No. There's another guest--Elsie Durnford," she answered. "But," sheadded, her self-possession at once returning, "but why are you here,Mr. Biddulph?"
"I wanted to see Mr. Shuttleworth. Being a friend of yours, I believedthat he would know where you were. But, thank Heaven, I have found youat last. Now," I said, smiling as I looked straight into herfathomless eyes, "tell me the truth, Miss Pennington. I did not loseyou the other morning--on the contrary, you lost me--didn't you?"
Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she gave vent to a nervous littlelaugh.
"Well," she answered, after a moment's hesitation, "to tell the truth,I did. I had reasons--important ones."
"I was _de trop_--eh?"
She shrugged her well-formed shoulders, and smiled reproachfully.
"But why?" I asked. "When I found you, it was under very curiouscircumstances. A man--a thief--had just cashed a cheque of mine for athousand pounds, and made off with the proceeds--and----"
"Ah! please do not refer to it, Mr. Biddulph!" she exclaimed quickly,laying her slim fingers upon my arm. "Let us speak of somethingelse--anything but that."
"I have no wish to reproach you, Miss Pennington," I hastened toassure her. "The past is to me of the past. That man has a thousandpounds of mine, and he's welcome to it, so long as----" and Ihesitated.
"So long as what?" she asked in a voice of trepidation.
"So long as you are alive and well," I replied in slow, meaning tones,my gaze fixed immovably on hers. "In Gardone you expressed fear foryour own safety, but so long as you are still safe I have no care asto what has happened to myself."
"But----"
"I know," I went on, "the ingenious attempt upon my life of which youwarned me has been made by those two scoundrels, and I have narrowlyescaped. To you, Miss Pennington, I owe my life."
She started, and lowered her eyes. Apparently she could not face me.The hand I held trembled within my grasp, and I saw that her whitelips quivered.
For a few seconds a silence fell between us. Then slowly she raisedher eyes to mine again, and said--
"Mr. Biddulph, this is an exceedingly painful subject to me. May wenot drop it? Will you not forget it--if you really are my friend?"
"To secure your further friendship, I will do anything you wish!" Ideclared. "You have already proved yourself my friend by rescuing mefrom death," I added.
"How do you know that?" she asked quickly.
"Because you were alone with me in that house of death in Bayswater.It was you who killed the hideous reptile and who severed the bondswhich held me. They intended that I should die. My grave had alreadybeen prepared. Cannot you tell me the motive of that dastardlyattack?" I begged of her.
"Alas! I cannot," she said. "I warned you when at Gardone that I knewwhat was intended, but of the true motive I was, and am still,entirely ignorant. Their motives are always hidden ones."
"They endeavoured to get from me another thousand pounds," Iexclaimed.
"It is well that you did not give it to them. The result would havebeen just the same. They intended that you should die, fearing lestyou should inform the police."
"And you were outside the bank with Forbes when he cashed my cheque!"I remarked in slow tones.
"I know," she answered hoarsely. "I know that you must believe me tobe their associate, perhaps their accomplice. Ah! well. Judge me, Mr.Biddulph, as you will. I have no defence. Only recollect that I warnedyou to go into hiding--to efface yourself--and you would not heed. Youbelieved that I only spoke wildly--perhaps that I was merely anhysterical girl, making all sorts of unfounded assertions."
"I believed, nay, I knew, Miss Pennington, that you were my friend.You admitted in Gardone that you were friendless, and I offered youthe friendship of one who, I hope, is an honest man."
"Ah! thank you!" she cried, taking my hand warmly in hers. "You havebeen so very generous, Mr. Biddulph, that I can only thank you fromthe bottom of my heart. It is true an attempt was made upon you, butyou fortunately escaped, even though they secured a thousand pounds ofyour money. Yet, had you taken my advice and disappeared, they wouldsoon have given up the chase."
"Tell me," I urged in de
ep earnestness, "others have been entrapped inthat dark house--have they not? That mechanical chair--that devilishinvention--was not constructed for me alone."
She did not answer, but I regarded her silence as an affirmativeresponse.
"Your friends at least seem highly dangerous persons," I said,smiling. "I've been undecided, since discovering that my grave wasalready prepared, whether to go to Scotland Yard and reveal the wholegame."
"No!" she cried in quick apprehension. "No, don't do that. It couldserve no end, and would only implicate certain innocentpersons--myself included."
"But how could you be implicated?"
"Was I not at the bank when the cheque was cashed?"
"Yes. Why were you there?" I asked.
But she only excused herself from replying to my question.
"Ah!" she cried wildly a moment later, clutching my arm convulsively,"you do not know my horrible position--you cannot dream what I havesuffered, or how much I have sacrificed."
I saw that she was now terribly in earnest, and, by the quick risingand falling of the lace upon her bodice, I knew that she was stirredby a great emotion. She had refused to allow me to stand her friendbecause she feared what the result might be. And yet, had she notrescued me from the serpent's fang?
"Sylvia," I cried, "Sylvia--for I feel that I must call you by yourChristian name--let us forget it all. The trap set by thoseblackguards was most ingenious, and in innocence I fell into it. Ishould have lost my life--except for you. You were present in thathouse of death. They told me you were there--they showed me yourpicture, and, to add to my horror, said that you, their betrayer, wereto share the same fate as myself."
"Yes, yes, I know!" she cried, starting. "Oh, it was all tooterrible--too terrible! How can I face you, Mr. Biddulph, after that!"
"My only desire is to forget it all, Sylvia," was my low and quietresponse. "It was all my fault--my fault, for not heeding yourwarning. I never realized the evil machinations of those unknownenemies. How should I? As far as I know, I had never set eyes uponthem before."
"You would have done wiser to have gone into hiding, as I suggested,"she remarked quietly.
"Never mind," I said cheerily. "It is all past. Let us dismiss it.There is surely no more danger--now that I am forearmed."
"May they not fear your reprisals?" she exclaimed. "They did notintend that you should escape, remember."
"No, they had already prepared my grave. I have seen it."
"That grave was prepared for both of us," she said in a calm,reflective voice.
"Then how did you escape?" I inquired, with curiosity.
"I do not know. I can only guess."
"May I not know?" I asked eagerly.
"When I have confirmed my belief, I will tell you," she replied.
"Then let us dismiss the subject. It is horrible, gruesome. Look howlovely and bright the world is outside. Let us live in peace and inhappiness. Let us turn aside these grim shadows which have latelyfallen upon us."
"Ah!" she exclaimed, with a sigh, "you are indeed generous to me, Mr.Biddulph. But could you be so generous, I wonder, if you knew theactual truth? Alas! I fear you would not. Instead of remaining myfriend, you would hate me--just--just as I hate myself!"
"Sylvia," I said, placing my hand again tenderly upon her shoulderand trying to calm her, and looking earnestly into her blue, wide-openeyes, "I shall never hate you. On the contrary, let me confess, nowand openly," I whispered, "let me tell you that I--I love you!"
She started, her lips parted at the suddenness of my impetuousdeclaration, and stood for a moment, motionless as a statue, pale andrigid.
Then I felt a convulsive tremor run through her, and her breast heavedand fell rapidly. She placed her hand to her heart, as though to calmthe rising tempest of emotion within her. Her breath came and wentrapidly.
"Love me!" she echoed in a strange, hoarse tone. "Ah! no, Mr.Biddulph, no, a thousand times no! You do not know what you aresaying. Recall those words--I beg of you!"
And I saw by her hard, set countenance and the strange look in hereyes that she was deadly in earnest.
"Why should I recall them?" I cried, my hand still upon her shoulder."You are not my enemy, Sylvia, even though you may be the friend of myenemies. I love you, and I fear nothing--nothing!"
"Hush! Do not say that," she protested very quietly.
"Why?"
"Because--well, because even though you have escaped, they----" andshe hesitated, her lips set as though unable to articulate the truth.
"They what?" I demanded.
"Because, Mr. Biddulph--because, alas! I know these men only too well.You have triumphed; but yours is, I fear, but a short-lived victory.They still intend that you shall die!"
"How do you know that?" I asked quickly.
"Listen," she said hoarsely. "I will tell you."