breast-pocket a copy of the document,he glanced at it.
"I am mentioned?" she echoed, raising herself and regarding himopen-mouthed.
"Yes," he said. "By this will he has left me one hundred thousandpounds on condition that I become your husband within two years of hisdeath."
"You--my husband?" she cried. "Are you mad?"
"Not so mad as my father when he made this absurd will," he answered,calmly. "You are, under its provisions, to be offered twenty thousandpounds in cash if you will consent to become my wife. This offer willbe made to you formally by his solicitors in London as soon as I informthem that you are at last found. Read for yourself," and he passed toher the copy of the will.
She took it mechanically, but for several moments sat agape andmotionless. The extraordinary announcement held her bewildered.Quickly she glanced through the long lines of formal words, reassuringherself that he had spoken the truth. She was to receive twentythousand pounds if she would marry the man before her, while he, on hispart, would become possessed of a substantial sum sufficient to keepthem comfortably for the remainder of their lives. At first she wasinclined to doubt the genuineness of the document; but it bore thesignature of the firm of solicitors, and was attested by them to be atrue copy of the original will. It held her dumb in astonishment.
"Then we are to marry?" she observed amazedly, when at last she againfound voice.
"The offer is to be made to you," he answered, evasively. "As you haveseen, if you refuse, or if you are already married, I am to receive halfthe amount."
"I am not married," she answered with a slightly coquettish smile, herchin resting upon her palm in a reflective attitude as she gazed at him."Marriage with you will mean that we have together the substantial sumof one hundred and twenty thousand pounds."
"That is so," he said gravely. "If we married we certainly should havemoney."
"But you love Liane," she answered in a low tone. "You can never loveme," and she sighed.
He did not answer. The look upon his face told her the truth. Hefeared lest she should accept this curious offer, knowing that he wouldthen be drawn into a marriage with her. She regarded him critically,and saw that he was tall, good-looking, muscular, and in every way athorough type of the good-natured Englishman. Twenty thousand poundswas, she reflected, a sum that would prove very acceptable, for shelived extravagantly, and the Villa Fortunee itself was an expensiveluxury.
"It is very dull living alone," she exclaimed, with a little touch ofmelancholy in her voice. Then, with a laugh, she added, "To beperfectly frank, I should not object to you as my husband."
"But is there not a barrier between us?" he exclaimed, quickly.
"Only Liane. And she can never marry you."
"I love her. I cannot love you," he answered. Her effort at coquetrysickened him.
"It is not a question of love," she answered, coldly, toying with thefine marquise ring upon her white finger. "It is a question of onehundred and twenty thousand pounds."
"Would either of us be one whit the better for it, even if we married?"he queried. "I think not. At present we are friends. If we married Ishould hate you."
"Nevertheless I should obtain twenty thousand pounds," she argued.
"Is it worth while to risk one's future happiness for that?" he said.
"I have not yet sufficiently considered the matter," she replied, withher eyes still fixed on him. "At present I'm inclined to think that itis. But I must have time to reflect. One cannot refuse such an offerwithout due consideration."
"Then you are inclined to accept," he observed, blankly.
She hesitated. Slowly she rose from the settee, crossed to the windowand pushed open the sun-shutters, allowing the golden sunset to streaminto the room from over the clear blue-green sea.
"Yes," she answered, standing gazing out upon the far-off horizon wherethe white-sailed racing yachts, Ailsa and Britannia, were passing, "I aminclined to accept."
"Very well," he stammered, sitting rigid and immovable. "My future isentirely in your hands."
She passed her hand wearily across her brow. With the sunset fallingfull upon her, he saw how heavy-eyed she was, and how artificial was thecomplexion that had looked so well in the dreamy half-light when thejalousies had been closed. Yes. She no doubt bore traces of a fadedbeauty, but she was old; there were lines in her brow, and crows' feetshowed at the corners of her eyes. She was _passee_, and all thevivacity and coquettishness she had shown had been carefully feigned toassume an appearance of youth. The thought of it nauseated him.
Again she turned towards him. Her momentary gravity had vanished, andshe commenced a commonplace conversation. At last, however, he rose togo, but she would not hear of it.
"No; remain here and dine," she said, in a low, persuasive tone."Afterwards we can go over to Monte Carlo for an hour or so, and you cancatch the yellow _rapide_ back to Nice at eleven."
"But you must really excuse me. I--"
"I will take no excuse," she said, laughing. "You must remain," and sherang for the servant and told him that m'sieur would dine.
Together they stood at the open window watching the succession of lightsand shadows upon the purple mountains, how the rose of the afterglowgrew deeper over the sea until it faded, and the streak of gold andorange died out behind the distant rocks of Cap d'Aggio. Then the mistsrose, creeping slowly up the mountain sides, the dusk deepened, a chillwind blew in from the sea, and just as they closed the windows the dooropened and the man announced dinner.
The table, set for two in a cosy little salle-a-manger, glittered withits cut-glass and shining plate, and was rendered bright by its shadedcandles and small silver repousse stands filled with choice flowers.Throughout the meal she was gay and vivacious, speaking but little ofherself and carefully avoiding all references to Liane. He found her apleasant hostess, unusually well-informed for a woman. They discussedart and literature, and in all her criticisms she exhibited a wide andintimate knowledge of men and things. Then, when they rose, she openeda door at the further end of the room and he found himself in a spaciousconservatory, where she invited him to smoke while she dressed to go tothe Casino.
Half an hour later she reappeared in a handsome gown of pale blue silk,the corsage trimmed with narrow braiding of silver; a costume whichsuited her admirably, yet so daring was it that he could not disguisefrom himself the suggestion that it was the dress of a demi-mondaine.Her hair had been redressed by her maid, and as he placed about hershoulders her small black cape of lace and feathers, he mumbled anapology that he was not able to dress.
"What does it matter? I invited you," she said, with a gay laugh."Come."
Together they entered the open carriage awaiting them, and descendingthe long winding road to the shore, drove rapidly through La Condamine,and ascended the steep incline which brought them round to the mainentrance to the Casino.
The night was brilliant, and the broad Place, with its palms andflowers, its gay, laughing crowd of promenaders, and its showy Cafe deParis, where the band was playing Mattei's "Non e ver," lay bright asday beneath the moonbeams and electric rays. As they entered, Mariettehanded him her cape, which he deposited for her in the cloakroom, thenboth passed through a crowd of habitues of the rooms. Several menaround bowed to her, and she greeted them with a smile.
"You appear to be well-known here," he laughed, as the well-guardeddoors opened to them.
"I suppose I am," she answered vaguely. "When I am lonely I come hereand play. It is the only recreation I have."
The rooms were hot and crowded. The monotonous cry of the croupiers,the incessant clicking of the roulette-ball, the jingle of coin, and thefaint odour of perfume were in striking contrast to the quiet of theroad along which they had just driven, but walking side by side theypassed through one room after another until they reached that finesquare salon, with its huge canvas representing a peaceful pastoralscene occupying the whole of the opposite wall, the "trente-et-quarante"room
.
There was not quite so large a crowd here, but the stakes were higher, alouis being the minimum. Mariette saw a player rise from his chair atthe end of the table and instantly secured the vacant seat, then turningto her companion with a gay laugh, said,--
"I am going to tempt Fortune for half an hour."
She took from the large purse she carried a card on which to record thegame, impaled it to the green cloth with a pin, in the manner of theprofessional gambler, and drew forth a small roll of notes.
The first time she played the "tailleur" dealt the cards quickly, one byone, then cried, "_Six, quatre, rouge gagne et couleur perd_."
She had lost. But next time she tossed two notes upon the scarletdiamond before her and won. She doubled her stake, won again, and thenallowed the cards to be dealt several times without risking anything.Presently, she hesitated, but suddenly counted out five onehundred-franc notes, folded them in half and carelessly tossed them uponthe red. Again the cards were dealt one by one upon the leather-coveredsquare; again the monotonous voice sounded, and again came her winningstowards her, five notes folded together on the end of the croupier'srake.
So engrossed had George become in the game, that he noticed nothing ofwhat was transpiring around him. Had he not been so deeply interestedin the play of this woman whom his father had designated as his wife,his attention would probably have been attracted by a curious incident.
At the moment when the cards had been dealt, a man seated at the end ofthe opposite table, who, with his companion had won a considerable sum,raised his head, and, for the first time, noticed amid the excitedexpectant crowd, that it was a woman who had been successful at theother table.
The man was Zertho. Next instant, however, his face went white. In hiseyes there was a look of abject terror when he identified the luckyplayer. With a sudden movement he put his hand to his head to avoidrecognition, and bending quickly to his companion, gasped,--
"Look, Brooker! Can't you see who's in front? Good God! why there's`The Golden Hand.' Quick! We must fly!"
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
THE HOUSE OF THE WICKED.
Next afternoon Liane and Zertho strolled up to Cimiez together to pay acall upon a Parisian family named Bertholet, who lived in one of thosefine white houses high up on the Boulevard de Cimiez, and who hadrecently accepted the Prince's hospitality.
As they turned from the dusty Boulevard Carabacel, and commenced thelong ascent where the tree-lined road runs straight up to the glaringwhite facade of the Excelsior Regina Hotel, Zertho expressed a fear thatshe would be fatigued ere they reached their destination, and urged herto take a cab.
"I'm not at all tired," she assured him, nevertheless halting a second,flushed and warm, to regain breath. "The day is so beautiful that awalk will do me no end of good."
"It's a dreadful bore to have to toil up and call on these people, but Isuppose I must be polite to them. They are worth knowing. Bertholetis, I hear, a well-known banker in Paris."
Liane smiled. The patronising air with which her companion spoke of hisnewly-found friends always amused her.
"Besides," he added, "we must now make the best of the time we have inNice. We leave to-morrow, or the day after."
"So sudden!" she exclaimed, surprised. "I thought we should remain foranother fortnight or three weeks. The weather is so delightful."
"I have arranged it with the Captain," he said briefly. "Do you regretleaving?"
"How can I regret?" she asked, glancing at him and raising her browsslightly. "How can I regret when the place, so fair in itself, is to meso hateful? No, I'm glad for several reasons that we are leaving."
She recollected at that moment what George had told her. MarietteLepage was near them. She remembered, too, the fierce expression ofhatred in that pair of angry eyes shining through the mask.
"Yes," he said at length, "one can have too much of a good thing, andsometimes it is even possible to have too much of the Riviera. I havethe satisfaction at least of having succeeded in obtaining a footing insociety." And he laughed as he added, "A year ago I was a down-at-heeladventurer, almost too shabby to obtain admittance at Monte Carlo, whileto-day I'm welcomed everywhere, even among the most exclusive set. Andwhy? Merely because I have money and impudence."
"Yes," Liane admitted, with a touch of sorrow. "This is indeed acurious world. There is a good deal of truth in the saying that a manis too often judged by his coat."
"And a woman by her dress," he added quickly. "When you are Princessd'Auzac, you will find that other women will crowd around you and petyou, and declare you are the most beautiful girl of the year--as, ofcourse, you are--all because you have wealth and a title. They like tospeak to their friends of `My friend the Princess So-and-So.'"
"You are very complimentary," she answered, coldly. "I have no desireto excite either the admiration or envy of other women."
"Because you have never yet fully realised how beautiful you are," heanswered.
"Oh yes, I have. Every woman knows the exact worth of her good looks."
"Some over-estimate them, no doubt," he said, with a laugh. "But youhave always under-estimated yours. If the Captain had chosen he couldhave already married you to a dozen different men, all wealthy anddistinguished."
"Dear old dad loved me too well to sacrifice my happiness for money,"she said, climbing slowly the steep hill.
"Yet you declare that you are doing so by marrying me," he observed, hiseyes fixed upon the ground.
"I am only marrying you because you compel me," she answered, huskily."You know that."
"Why do you hate me?" he cried, dismayed. "I have surely done my bestto render your life here happy? In the past I admired your grace andyour beauty, but because of my poverty I dared not ask the Captain foryou. Now that I have the means to give you the luxury which a womanlike yourself must need, you spurn my love, and--"
"Your love!" she cried, with a gesture of disgust, her eyes flashingangrily. "Do not speak to me of love. You may tell other women thatyou love them, but do not lie to me!"
"It is no lie," he answered. She had never spoken so frankly before,and her manner showed a fierce determination which surprised him.
"You have a manner so plausible that you can utter falsehoods so thatthey appear as gospel truth," she said. "Remember, however, that youand my father were once fellow-adventurers, and that years ago Ithoroughly gauged your character and found it exactly as superficial andunprincipled as it is now."
"The past is forgotten," he snapped. "It is useless to throw into myface facts and prejudices which I am striving to live down."
"No," she cried. "The past is not forgotten, otherwise you would notcompel me to become your wife. How can you say that the past is buried,when at this moment you hold me beneath your hateful thrall, merelybecause my face and my figure please you, merely because you desire thatI should become your wife?"
"With you at my side I shall, I trust, lead a better life," he said,calmed by her rebuff.
"It is useless to cant in that manner," she exclaimed, turning upon himfiercely. "In you, the man I have always mistrusted as knavish andunscrupulous, I can never place confidence. The mean, shabby, tricksyou have served men who have been your friends are in themselvessufficient proof of your utter lack of good-will, and show me that youare dead to all honour. Without confidence there can be no love."
"I have promised before Heaven to make you happy," he answered.
"Ah, no," she said, in a choking voice of bitter reproach. "Speak notof holy things, you, whose heart is so black. If you would make yourpeace with God give me back my liberty, my life, before it is too late."
Her face was pale, her lips were dry, and she panted as she spoke.
But they had gained the gate of the villa where they were to call, andpushing it open he held it back with a low bow for her to pass. Hergrey eyes, so full of grief and despair, met his for an instant, and shesaw he was inexorable. Then she passed
in up to the door, and a fewminutes later found herself in the salon chatting with her volublehostess, while Zertho sat with Madame's two smart daughters, both trueParisiennes in manner, dress, and speech.
"We only heard to-day of your engagement to the Prince," MadameBertholet was saying in French. "We must congratulate you. I'm sure Iwish you every happiness."
"Thank you," she said, with a forced smile. "It is extremely good ofyou."
"And when and where do you marry?"
"In Brussels, in about three weeks," Liane answered, striving topreserve an outward appearance of happiness. It was, however, but asorry attempt. From the windows of their salon Madame Bertholet and herdaughters had noticed the strange imploring look upon Liane's face asthey had approached the gate, and had wondered.
Yet when she had entered she had sparkled with fun and vivacity, and itwas only the mention of marriage which had disarmed her.
"After Brussels you will, of course, go to your new home in Luxembourg,"said Madame. "Have you seen it?"
Liane replied in the negative.
"I happen to know Luxembourg very well. My brother, strangely enough,is one of the Prince's tenants."
"Oh, then, you of course know my future