CHAPTER XII
"I CANNOT GO!"
Hunterleys stood for several minutes, watching his wife's play from anew point of view. She was certainly playing high and with continuedill-fortune. For the first time, too, he noticed symptoms whichdisturbed him. She sat quite motionless, but there was an unfamiliarglitter in her eyes and a hardness about her mouth. It was not until hehad stood within a few feet of her for nearly a quarter of an hour, thatshe chanced to see him.
"Did you want me?" she asked, with a little start.
"There is no hurry," he replied. "If you could spare me a few momentslater, I should be glad."
She rose at once, thrusting her notes and gold into the satchel whichshe was carrying, and stood by his side. She was very elegantly dressedin black and white, but she was pale, and, watching her with a newintentness, he discovered faint violet lines under her eyes, as thoughshe had been sleeping ill.
"I am rather glad you came," she said. "I was having an abominable runof bad luck, and yet I hated to give up my seat without an excuse. Whatdid you want, Henry?"
"I should like," he explained, "to talk to you for a quarter of an hour.This place is rather crowded and it is getting on my nerves. We seem tolive here, night and day. Would you object to driving with me--say asfar as Mentone and back?"
"I will come if you wish it," she answered, looking a little surprised."Wait while I get my cloak."
Hunterleys hired an automobile below and they drove off. As soon as theywere out of the main street, he thrust his hand into the breast-pocketof his coat and smoothed out that half-sheet of notepaper upon his knee.
"Violet," he said, "please read that."
She read the few lines instructing the English Bank to hand over SirHenry Hunterleys' letters to the bearer. Then she looked up at him witha puzzled frown.
"I don't understand."
"Did you write that?" he enquired.
She looked at him indignantly.
"What an absurd question!" she exclaimed. "Your correspondence has nointerest for me."
Her denial, so natural, so obviously truthful, was a surprise to him. Hefelt a sudden impulse of joy, mingled with shame. Perhaps, after all, hehad been altogether too censorious. Once more he directed her attentionto the sheet of paper. There was a marked change in his voice andmanner.
"Violet," he begged, "please look at it. Accepting without hesitationyour word that you did not write it, doesn't it occur to you that thebody of the letter is a distinct imitation of your handwriting, and thesignature a very clever forgery of mine?"
"It is rather like my handwriting," she admitted, "and as for thesignature, do you mean to say really that that is not yours?"
"Certainly not," he assured her. "The whole thing is a forgery."
"But who in the world should want to get your letters?" she askedincredulously. "And why should you have them addressed to the bank?"
He folded up the paper then and put it in his pocket.
"Violet," he said earnestly, "for the disagreements which have resultedin our separation I may myself have been to some extent responsible, butwe have promised one another not to refer to them again and I will notbreak our compact. All I can say is that there is much in my life whichyou know little of, and for which you do not, therefore, make sufficientallowance."
"Then you might have treated me," she declared, "with more confidence."
"It was not possible," he reminded her, "so long as you chose to make anintimate friend of a man whose every interest in life is in directantagonism to mine."
"Mr. Draconmeyer?"
"Mr. Draconmeyer," he assented.
She smiled contemptuously.
"You misunderstand Mr. Draconmeyer completely," she insisted. "He isyour well-wisher and he is more than half an Englishman. It was he whostarted the league between English and German commercial men for thepropagation of peace. He formed one of the deputation who went over tosee the Emperor. He has done more, both by his speeches and letters tothe newspaper, to promote a good understanding between Germany andEngland, than any other person. You are very much mistaken about Mr.Draconmeyer, Henry. Why you cannot realise that he is simply an ordinarycommercial man of high intelligence and most agreeable manners, I cannotimagine."
"The fact remains, my dear Violet," Hunterleys said emphatically, "thatit is not possible for me to treat you with the confidence I mightotherwise have done, on account of your friendship with Mr.Draconmeyer."
"You are incorrigible!" she exclaimed. "Can we change the subject,please? I want to know why you showed me that forged letter?"
"I am coming to that," he told her. "Please be patient. I want to remindyou of something else. So far as I remember, my only request, when Igave you your liberty and half my income, was that your friendship withthe Draconmeyers should decrease. Almost the first persons I see on myarrival in Monte Carlo are you and Mr. Draconmeyer. I learn that youcame out with them and that you are staying at the same hotel."
"Your wish was an unreasonable one," she protested. "Linda and I wereschool-girls together. She is my dearest friend and she is a hopelessinvalid. I think that if I were to desert her she would die."
"I have every sympathy with Mrs. Draconmeyer," he said slowly, "but youare my wife. I am going to make one more effort--please don't beuneasy--not to re-establish any relationship between us, but to openyour eyes as to the truth concerning Mr. Draconmeyer. You asked me amoment ago why I had shown you that forged letter. I will tell you now.It was Draconmeyer who was the forger."
She leaned back in her seat. She was looking at him incredulously.
"You mean to say that Mr. Draconmeyer wrote that order--that he wantedto get possession of your letters?"
"Not only that," Hunterleys continued, "but he carried out the businessin such a devilish manner as to make me for a moment believe that it wasyou who had helped him. You are wrong about Draconmeyer. The man is agreat schemer, who under the pretence of occupying an importantcommercial position in the City of London, is all the time a secretagent of Germany. He is there in her interests. He studies the publicopinion of the country. He dissects our weaknesses. He is there to pointout the best methods and the opportune time for the inevitable struggle.He is the worst enemy to-day England has. You think that he is here inMonte Carlo on a visit of pleasure--for the sake of his wife, perhaps.Nothing of the sort! He is here at this moment associated with aniniquitous scheme, the particulars of which I can tell you nothing of.Furthermore, I repeat what I told you on our first meeting here--that inhis still, cold way he is in love with you."
"Henry!" she cried.
"I cannot see how you can remain so wilfully blind," Hunterleyscontinued. "I know the man inside out. I warned you against him inLondon, I warn you against him now. This forged letter was designed todraw us further apart. The little brown man who has dogged yourfootsteps is a spy employed by him to make you believe that I was havingyou watched. You are free still to act as you will, Violet, but if youhave a spark of regard for me or yourself, you will go back to London atonce and drop this odious friendship."
She leaned back in the car. They had turned round now and were on theway back to Monte Carlo by the higher road. She sat with her eyes fixedupon the mountains. Her heart, in a way, had been touched, herimagination stirred by her husband's words. She felt a return of thatglow of admiration which had thrilled her on the previous night, when heand Richard Lane alone amongst that motley company had played the partof men. A curious, almost pathetic wistfulness crept into her heart. Ifonly he would lean towards her at that moment, if she could see oncemore the light in his eyes that had shone there during the days of theircourtship! If only he could remember that it was still his part to playthe lover! If he could be a little less grave, a little less hopelesslycorrect and fair! Despite her efforts to disbelieve, there was somethingconvincing about his words. At any moment during that brief space oftime, a single tremulous word, even a warm clasp of the hand, would havebrought her into his arms. But so much of insp
iration was denied him. Hesat waiting for her decision with an eagerness of which he gave no sign.Nevertheless, the fates were fighting for him. She thought gratefully,even at that moment, yet with less enthusiasm than ever before, of thedevout homage, the delightful care for her happiness and comfort, theatmosphere of security with which Draconmeyer seemed always to surroundher. Yet all this was cold and unsatisfying, a poor substitute for theother things. Henry had been different once. Perhaps it was jealousywhich had altered him. Perhaps his misconception of Draconmeyer'scharacter had affected his whole outlook. She turned towards him, andher voice, when she spoke, was no longer querulous.
"Henry," she said, "I cannot admit the truth of all that you sayconcerning Mr. Draconmeyer, but tell me this. If I were willing to leavethis place to-night--"
She paused. For some reason a sudden embarrassment had seized her. Thewords seemed to come with difficulty. She turned ever so slightly awayfrom him. There was a tinge of colour at last in her pale cheeks. Sheseemed to him now, as she leaned a little forward in her seat,completely beautiful.
"If I make my excuses and leave Monte Carlo to-night," she went on,"will you come with me?"
He gave a little start. Something in his eyes flashed an answer into herface. And then the flood of memory came. There was his mission. He wastied hand and foot.
"It is good of you to offer that, Violet," he declared. "If I could--ifonly I could!"
Already her manner began to change. The fear of his refusal was hateful,her lips were trembling.
"You mean," she faltered, "that you will not come? Listen. Don'tmisunderstand me. I will order my boxes packed, I will catch the eighto'clock train either through to London or to Paris--anywhere. I will dothat if you will come. There is my offer. That is my reply to all thatyou have said about Mr. Draconmeyer. I shall lose a friend who has beengentleness and kindness and consideration itself. I will risk that. Whatdo you say? Will you come?"
"Violet, I cannot," he replied hoarsely. "No, don't turn away likethat!" he begged. "Don't change so quickly, please! It isn't fair.Listen. I am not my own master."
"Not your own master?" she repeated incredulously. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that I am here in Monte Carlo not for my own pleasure. I meanthat I have work, a purpose--"
"Absurd!" she interrupted him, almost harshly. "There is nobody who hasany better claim upon you than I have. You are over-conscientious aboutother things. For once remember your duty as a husband."
He caught her wrist.
"You must trust me a little," he pleaded. "Believe me that I reallyappreciate your offer. If I were free to go, I should not hesitate for asingle second.... Can't you trust me, Violet?" he implored, his voicesoftening.
The woman within her was fighting on his side. She stifled her woundedfeelings, crushed down her disappointment that he had not taken her atonce into his arms and answered her upon her lips.
"Trust me, then," she replied. "If you refuse my offer, don't hint atthings you have to do. Tell me in plain words why. It is not enough foryou to say that you cannot leave Monte Carlo. Tell me why you cannot. Ihave invited you to escort me anywhere you will--I, your wife.... Shallwe go?"
The woman had wholly triumphed. Her voice had dropped, the light was inher eyes. She swayed a little towards him. His brain reeled. She wasonce more the only woman in the world for him. Once more he fancied thathe could feel the clinging of her arms, the touch of her lips. Thesethings were promised in her face.
"I tell you that I cannot go!" he cried sharply. "Believe me--do believeme, Violet!"
She pulled down her veil suddenly. He caught at her hand. It laypassively in his. He pleaded for her confidence, but the moment ofinspiration had gone. She heard him with the air of one who listens nolonger. Presently she stopped him.
"Don't speak to me for several minutes, please," she begged. "Tell himto put me down at the hotel. I can't go back to the Club just yet."
"You mustn't leave me like this," he insisted.
"Will you tell me why you refuse my offer?" she asked.
"I have a trust!"
The automobile had come to a standstill. She rose to her feet.
"I was once your trust," she reminded him, as she passed into the hotel.