never let my daughter marry you. You, of allmen, shall not have her--no, by Heaven! not for a hundred thousandpounds."
The other's face darkened in anger. But he turned away, giving vent toa short, harsh laugh, and with feigned good humour advanced towards thewindow, and whistling softly, took out his cigarette-case, a plainsilver one, whereon his coronet and monogram were engraved.
At that moment two graceful, bright-faced girls entered the gate fromthe road, sauntering leisurely up the path towards the house. Dressedalike in dark well-made skirts, cool-looking blouses of cream crepon andstraw sailor hats with black bands, they walked together, the sound oftheir laughter ringing through the room. The taller of the pair wasLiane Brooker, slim, with infinite grace, a face undeniably beautiful, apair of clear grey eyes the depths of which seemed unfathomable, noseand mouth that denoted buoyancy of spirits and sincerity of heart, hairdressed neatly in the latest mode, and that easy swing about hercarriage peculiar alone to Frenchwomen. Her warmth of Southern bloodand large expressive eyes she inherited from her mother, who came fromSt Tropez in the Var, and her strange cosmopolitan education had alreadymade her a thorough woman of the world. Her character was altogether acuriously complex one. Though fresh, bright and happy, she, thedaughter of an adventurer, had seen a good deal of the seamy side oflife, where the women were declasse, and the men rogues and outsiders;yet, in fairness to her father, it must be admitted that, even in hismost reckless moments, he had always exerted towards both girls keensolicitude. Her beauty was peerless. Hundreds of men had said so amongthemselves. Such a face as hers would have made a fortune on the stage;therefore it was little wonder that she should be desired as wife byPrince Zertho d'Auzac, the man who under the plain cognomen of Zerthod'Auzac was once a fellow blackleg with her father, and now a wealthypersonage by reason of his inheritance of the great family estates inLuxembourg. Well he knew what a sensation her beauty would create inBerlin or St Petersburg, and with the object of obtaining her he hadtravelled to England. Pure and good, full of high thoughts and refinedfeeling, Liane Brooker existed amid strangely incongruous surroundings.She had been reared in the worst atmosphere of vice and temptation to befound in the whole of Europe, yet had passed through unscathed anduncorrupted.
Her companion was fair, with bright pink-and-white complexion, rosy,delicate cheeks, and merry blue eyes. Nelly was scarcely as handsomeperhaps as Liane, yet hers was an almost perfect type of English beauty.Her hands were not quite so small or refined as her friend's, and incontrast with the latter's carriage hers was not quite so graceful, norwas her figure so supple; yet the mass of fluffy blond curls that peepedbeneath her hat, straying across her brow, gave softness to herfeatures, and her delicate pointed chin added a decided piquancy to aface that was uncommonly pretty and winning.
Both girls, catching sight at the same moment of Zertho's heavywatch-chain at the window, muttered together in an undertone. That daythe Prince had arrived unexpectedly to lunch, sat down to their meagredish of cold mutton, as he had often done in the old days when funds hadbeen low, and having indicated his desire to talk business alone withthe Captain, they had gone out together to post a letter at the littlegrocery store at the opposite end of the village.
When they discovered him still there, both pulled wry faces. He hadnever been a favourite of either. Liane had always instinctivelydisliked this man, who was the scapegrace of a noble family. Hiscynical look and sly manner had caused her to distrust him, and it hadbeen mainly on this account that her father had dissolved hispartnership in the private gaming-house they had carried on during theprevious winter in Nice, an institution remembered with regret by many ayoung man who had gone to the Riviera for health and pleasure, only toreturn ruined. Zertho was not entirely unconscious of Liane's antipathytowards him; he well knew that without her father's aid his cause mustbe foredoomed to failure. But he never on any single occasion acted inundue haste. It was his proud boast that if ever he set his heart upondoing a thing he could quietly possess his soul in patience, for yearsif necessary, till the right moment arrived when he could execute hisplans with success. Judging from the light, pleasant greeting he gaveboth girls as they entered, it was the tactics of craft and cunning henow intended to follow.
He chaffed Liane upon becoming a village belle, whereupon she, quick atrepartee, tossed her handsome head, her heart beating fast, almosttumultuously, as she answered:
"Better that than the old life, M'sieur."
"Oh, so you, too, have settled and become puritanical!" he laughed."You English, you are always utterly incomprehensible. Have you yetjoined the Anti-Gambling League?"
"We are very happy here," she replied, heedless of his taunt. "I haveno desire to return to the Continent, to that old life of feast one dayand fast the next."
"Nor I," chimed in Nellie, full of fun and vivacity. "This place issometimes horribly dull, it's true; but we always get our dinner, whichwe didn't on many occasions when we were abroad. Look at our house!Surely this place, with its little English garden, is better than thosedingy rooms on the third floor in the Rue Dalpozzo in Nice. Besides,the Captain never swears now."
"Very soon he'll become a teacher in the local Sunday School, Isuppose," sneered Zertho.
"I cannot understand your reason for coming here to jeer at ourpoverty," Liane exclaimed angrily, drawing herself up quickly. "Atleast my father lives honestly."
"I sincerely beg your pardon, and your father's also, mademoiselle,"answered the Prince, bowing stiffly in foreign manner. "If my remarkshave annoyed you I'm sure I will at once withdraw them with a thousandapologies. I had no intention, I assure you, of causing one instant'spain. I was merely joking. It all seems so droll."
"I know you well enough, Zertho, not to be annoyed at anything you maysay," the Captain interrupted, good-humouredly as always. "However,speak what you have to say to me alone, not before the girls."
"The ladies will, I know, forgive me if I promise not to again offend,"the Prince said. His eager eyes scanned Liane with such intense anxietythat they seemed to burn in their sockets, yet mingled with this fieryadmiration, there was a strange covered menace in their expression.Taking out his watch a second later he added, "But I'm late, I see. Tenminutes only to catch my train back to London, and I don't know the way.Who'll guide me to the station? You, Liane?"
"No," answered her father. "Nelly shall go. I want Liane to deliver amessage for me."
Prince d'Auzac bit his lip. But next instant he laughed gaily andsaying: "Then come along Nelly," shook hands with Liane and her father,bade them "Au revoir" with a well-feigned bonhomie, and lounged out ofthe room.
Meanwhile, Nelly wheeled out her cycle, and announcing her intention ofpiloting their visitor to the station, and afterwards riding over toBurghfield village to make some purchase, mounted her machine and rodeslowly on besides the Prince, chatting merrily.
As soon as they had left, Liane inquired of her father what she shoulddo; but he told her briefly that it had been merely an excuse to preventher going to the station, as he knew she disliked Zertho's society.
"Yes, father," she answered with a slight sigh, "I think him simplyhateful. I'm convinced that he's neither your friend, nor mine."
Then glancing at the clock, she passed out of the house humming toherself as she walked slowly down the garden path, into the white dustyhigh road.
For a long time Brooker stood twirling his moustache, gazing aimlesslyout into the crimson blaze of the dying day.
"I can't think why Zertho should have taken this trouble to look me upagain," he murmured to himself. "I had hoped that he had cut meentirely, and believed that terrible incident was forgotten. The excuseabout Liane is all very well. But I know him. He means mischief--hemeans mischief."
And his face grew ashen pale as his eyes were lost in deep and seriouscontemplation.
A sudden thought had flashed across his mind. It held him petrified,for he half-feared that he had guessed the bitter, ghastly truth.<
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CHAPTER TWO.
A BEGGAR ON HORSEBACK.
Sir John Stratfield, of Stratfield Court, lay dying on that afternoon.For years he had been a confirmed invalid, and in the morning the tworenowned doctors who had been telegraphed for from London had declaredhis recovery impossible. The Court, a fine old pile with grey time-wornwalls half-hidden by ivy, stood in its spacious park about a mile fromStratfield Mortimer, on the hill between that village and Burghfield.
As the rays of crimson sunset slanted in through the one unshaded windowthere was a profound stillness in the sick-room. At the bedside stoodfour solemn-faced men, patiently watching for the end. The spark oflife flickered on, and now and then the dying man uttered words low