CHAPTER IV.
SECRETS.
The scouting crowd apparently did not catch the name, so busy were oneand all in welcoming the newcomer. But the man on the horse saw MissGreeby's startled look, and noticed that her lips were moving. In amoment he threw himself off the animal and elbowed his way roughlythrough the throng.
"Sir Hubert," began Miss Greeby, only to be cut short hastily.
"Don't give me away," interrupted Pine, who here was known as IshmaelHearne. "Wait till I settle things, and then we can converse privately."
"All right," answered the lady, nodding, and gripped her bludgeoncrosswise behind her back with two hands. She was so surprised at thesight of the millionaire in the wood, that she could scarcely speak.
Satisfied that she grasped the situation, Pine turned to his friends andspoke at length in fluent Romany. He informed them that he had somebusiness to transact with the Gentile lady who had come to the camp forthat purpose, and would leave them for half an hour. The man evidentlywas such a favorite that black looks were cast on Miss Greeby fordepriving the Romany of his society. But Pine paid no attention to thesesigns of discontent. He finished his speech, and then pushed his wayagain toward the lady who, awkwardly for him, was acquainted with histrue position as a millionaire. In a hurried whisper he asked MissGreeby to follow him, and led the way into the heart of the wood.Apparently he knew it very well, and knew also where to seek solitudefor the private conversation he desired, for he skirted the centralglade where Lambert's cottage was placed, and finally guided hiscompanion to a secluded dell, far removed from the camp of his brethren.Here he sat down on a mossy stone, and stared with piercing black eyesat Miss Greeby.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded imperiously.
"Just the question I was about to put to you," said Miss Greeby amiably.She could afford to be amiable, for she felt that she was the mistressof the situation. Pine evidently saw this, for he frowned.
"You must have guessed long ago that I was a gypsy," he snappedrestlessly.
"Indeed I didn't, nor, I should think, did any one else. I thought youhad nigger blood in you, and I have heard people say that you came fromthe West Indies. But what does it matter if you are a gypsy? There is nodisgrace in being one."
"No disgrace, certainly," rejoined the millionaire, leaning forward andlinking his hands together, while he stared at the ground. "I am proudof having the gentle Romany blood. All the same I prefer the West Indianlegend, for I don't want any of my civilized friends to know that I amIshmael Hearne, born and bred in a tent."
"Well, that's natural, Pine. What would Garvington say?"
"Oh, curse Garvington!"
"Curse the whole family by all means," retorted Miss Greeby coolly.
Pine looked up savagely, "I except my wife."
"Naturally. You always were uxorious."
"Perhaps," said Pine gloomily, "I'm a fool where Agnes is concerned."
Miss Greeby quite agreed with this statement, but did not think it worthwhile to indorse so obvious a remark. She sat down in her turn, andtaking Lambert's cigarette case, which she had retained by accident, outof her pocket, she prepared to smoke. The two were entirely alone in thefairy dell, and the trees which girdled it were glorious with vividautumnal tints. A gentle breeze sighing through the wood, shook downyew, crisp leaves on the woman's head, so that she looked like Danae ina shower of gold. Pine gazed heavily at the ground and coughedviolently. Miss Greeby knew that cough, and a medical friend of hershad told her several times that Sir Hubert was a very consumptiveindividual. He certainly looked ill, and apparently had not long tolive. And if he died, Lady Agnes, inheriting his wealth, would be moredesirable as a wife than ever. And Miss Greeby, guessing whose wife shewould be, swore inwardly that the present husband should look sodelicate. But she showed no sign of her perturbations, but lighted hercigarette with a steady hand and smoked quietly. She always pridedherself on her nerve.
The millionaire was tall and lean, with a sinewy frame, and an oval,olive-complexioned face. It was clean-shaven, and with his aquilinenose, his thin lips, and brilliant black eyes, which resembled those ofKara, he looked like a long-descended Hindoo prince. The Eastern bloodof the Romany showed in his narrow feet and slim brown hands, and therewas a wild roving look about him, which Miss Greeby had not perceived inLondon.
"I suppose it's the dress," she said aloud, and eyed Pine critically.
"What do you say, Miss Greeby?" he asked, looking up in a sharp,startled manner, and again coughing in a markedly consumptive way.
"The cowl makes the monk in your case," replied the woman quietly. "Yourcorduroy breeches and velveteen coat, with that colored shirt, and theyellow handkerchief round your neck, seem to suit you better than didthe frock coats and evening dress I have seen you in. You did look likea nigger of sorts when in those clothes; now I can tell you are a gypsywith half an eye."
"That is because you heard me called Ishmael and saw me among my kithand kin," said the man with a tired smile. "Don't tell Agnes."
"Why should I? It's none of my business if you chose to masquerade as agypsy."
"I masquerade as Sir Hubert Pine," retorted the millionaire, slippingoff the stone to sprawl full-length on the grass. "I am truly and reallyone of the lot in the camp yonder."
"Do they know you by your Gentile name?"
Pine laughed. "You are picking up the gypsy lingo, Miss Greeby. No.Every one on the road takes me for what I am, Ishmael Hearne, and myfriends in the civilized world think I am Sir Hubert Pine, a millionairewith colored blood in his veins."
"How do you come to have a double personality and live a double life?"
"Oh, that is easily explained, and since you have found me out it isjust as well that I should explain, so that you may keep my secret, atall events from my wife, as she would be horrified to think that she hadmarried a gypsy. You promise?"
"Of course. I shall say nothing. But perhaps she would prefer to knowthat she had married a gypsy rather than a nigger."
"What polite things you say," said Pine sarcastically. "However, I can'tafford to quarrel with you. As you are rich, I can't even bribe you tosilence, so I must rely on your honor."
"Oh, I have some," Miss Greeby assured him lightly.
"When it suits you," he retorted doubtfully.
"It does on this occasion."
"Why?"
"I'll tell you that when you have related your story."
"There is really none to tell. I was born and brought up on the road,and thinking I was wasting my life I left my people and enteredcivilization. In London I worked as a clerk, and being clever I soonmade money. I got hold of a man who invented penny toys, and saw thepossibilities of making a fortune. I really didn't, but I collectedenough money to dabble in stocks and shares. The South African boom wason, and I made a thousand. Other speculations created more than amillion out of my thousand, and now I have over two millions, honestlymade."
"Honestly?" queried Miss Greeby significantly.
"Yes; I assure you, honestly. We gypsies are cleverer than you Gentiles,and we have the same money-making faculties as the Jews have. If mypeople were not so fond of the vagrant life they would soon become apower in the money markets of the world. But, save in the case ofmyself, we leave all such grubbing to the Jews. I did grub, and myreward is that I have accumulated a fortune in a remarkably short spaceof time. I have land and houses, and excellent investments, and a title,which," he added sarcastically, "a grateful Government bestowed on mefor using my money properly."
"You bought the title by helping the political party you belonged to,"said Miss Greeby with a shrug. "There was quite a talk about it."
"So there was. As if I cared for talk. However, that is my story."
"Not all of it. You are supposed to be in Paris, and--"
"And you find me here," interrupted Pine with a faint smile. "Well yousee, being a gypsy, I can't always endure that under-the-roof life youGentiles live. I must have a spell of the open
road occasionally. And,moreover, as my doctor tells me that I have phthisis, and that I shouldlive as much as possible in the open air, I kill two birds with onestone, as the saying is. My health benefits by my taking up the oldRomany wandering, and I gratify my nostalgia for the tent and the wild.You understand, you und--" His speech was interrupted by a fresh fit ofcoughing.
"It doesn't seem to do you much good this gypsying," said Miss Greebywith a swift look, for his life was of importance to her plans. "Youlook pretty rocky I can tell you, Pine. And if you die your wife will befree to--" The man sat up and took away from his mouth a handkerchiefspotted with blood. His eyes glittered, and he showed his white teeth."My wife will be free to what?" he demanded viciously, and the samedevil that had lurked in Mother Cockleshell's eye, now showedconspicuously in his.
Miss Greeby had no pity on his manifest distress and visible wrath, butanswered obliquely: "You know that she was almost engaged to her cousinbefore you married her," she hinted pointedly.
"Yes, I know, d---- him," said Pine with a groan, and rolled over toclutch at the grass in a vicious manner. "But he's not at The Manor now?"
"No."
"Agnes doesn't speak of him?"
"No."
Pine drew a deep breath and rose slowly to his feet, with a satisfiednod.
"I'm glad of that. She's a good woman is Agnes, and would neverencourage him in any way. She knows what is due to me. I trust her."
"Do you? When your secretary is also stopping at The Manor?"
"Silver!" Pine laughed awkwardly, and kicked at a tuft of moss. "Well Idid ask him to keep an eye on her, although there is really no occasion.Silver owes me a great deal, since I took him out of the gutter. IfLambert worried my wife, Silver would let me know, and then--"
"And then?" asked Miss Greeby hastily.
The man clenched his fists and his face grew stormy, as his blooduntamed by civilization surged redly to the surface. "I'd twist hisneck, I'd smash his skull, I'd--I'd--I'd--oh, don't ask me what I'd do."
"I should keep my temper if I were you," Miss Greeby warned him, andalarmed by the tempest she had provoked. She had no wish for the man sheloved to come into contact with this savage, veneered by civilization.Yet Lambert was in the neighborhood, and almost within a stone's throwof the husband who was so jealous of him. "Keep your temper," repeatedMiss Greeby.
"Is there anything else you would like me to do?" raged Pine fiercely.
"Yes. Leave this place if you wish to keep the secret of your birth fromyour wife. Lady Garvington and Mrs. Belgrove, and a lot of people fromThe Manor, are coming to the camp to get their fortunes told. You aresure to be spotted."
"I shall keep myself out of sight," said Pine sullenly and suspiciously.
"Some of your gypsy friends may let the cat out of the bag."
"Not one of them knows there is a cat in the bag. I am Ishmael Hearne tothem, and nothing else. But I shan't stay here long."
"I wonder you came at all, seeing that your wife is with her brother."
"In the daring of my coming lies my safety," said Pine tartly. "I knowwhat I am doing. As to Lambert, if he thinks to marry my wife when I amdead he is mistaken."
"Well, I hope you won't die, for my sake!"
"Why for your sake?" asked Pine sharply.
"Because I love Lambert and I want to marry him."
"Marry him," said the millionaire hoarsely, "and I'll give you thousandsof pounds. Oh! I forgot that you have a large income. But marry him,marry him, Miss Greeby. I shall help you all I can."
"I can do without assistance," said the woman coolly. "All I ask you todo is to refrain from fighting with Lambert."
"What?" Pine's face became lowering again. "Is he at The Manor? Yousaid--"
"I know what I said. He is not at The Manor, but he is stopping in thecottage a stone's throw from here."
Pine breathed hard, and again had a spasm of coughing. "What's he doing?"
"Painting pictures."
"He has not been near The Manor?"
"No. And what is more, he told me to-day that he did not intend to gonear the house. I don't think you need be afraid, Pine. Lambert is a manof honor, and I hope to get him to be my husband."
"He shall never be my wife's husband," said the millionaire between histeeth and scowling heavily. "I know that I shan't live to anything likethree score and ten. Your infernal hot-house civilization has killed me.But if Lambert thinks to marry my widow he shall do so in the face ofGarvington's opposition, and will find Agnes a pauper."
"What do you mean exactly?" Miss Greeby flung away the stump of hercigarette and rose to her feet.
Pine wiped his brow and breathed heavily. "I mean that I have left Agnesmy money, only on condition that she does _not_ marry Lambert. She canmarry any one else she has a mind to. I except her cousin."
"Because she loves him?"
"Yes, and because he loves her, d--n him."
"He doesn't," cried Miss Greeby, lying fluently, and heartily wishingthat her lie could be a truth. "He loves me, and I intend to marry him.Now you can understand what I meant when I declared that I had honorenough to keep your secret. Lambert is my honor."
"Oh, then I believe in your honor," sneered Pine cynically. "It is aselfish quality in this case, which can only be gratified by preservingsilence. If Agnes knew that I was a true Romany tramp, she might runaway with Lambert, and as you want him to be your husband, it is to yourinterest to hold your tongue. Thank you for nothing, Miss Greeby."
"I tell you Lambert loves me," cried the woman doggedly, trying topersuade her heart that she spoke truly. "And whether you leave yourmoney to your wife, or to any one else, makes no manner of difference."
"I think otherwise," he retorted. "And it is just as well to be on thesafe side. If my widow marries Lambert, she loses my millions, and theygo to--" He checked himself abruptly. "Never mind who gets them. It is aperson in whom you can take no manner of interest."
Miss Greeby pushed the point of her bludgeon into the spongy ground, andlooked thoughtful. "If Lambert loves Agnes still, which I don'tbelieve," she observed, after a pause, "he would marry her even if shehadn't a shilling. Your will excluding him as her second husband ismerely the twisting of a rope of sand, Pine."
"You forget," said the man quickly, "that I declared also, he would haveto marry her in the face of Garvington's opposition."
"In what way?"
"Can't you guess? Garvington only allowed me to marry his sister becauseI am a wealthy man. I absolutely bought my wife by helping him, and shegave herself to me without love to save the family name from disgrace.She is a good woman, is Agnes, and always places duty beforeinclination. Marriage with her pauper cousin meant practically thesocial extinction of the Lambert family, and nothing would have remainedbut the title. Therefore she married me, and I felt mean at the time inaccepting the sacrifice. But I was so deeply in love with her that I didso. I love her still, and I am mean enough still to be jealous of thiscousin. She shall never marry him, and I know that Garvington willappeal to his sister's strong desire to save the family once more; sothat she may not be foolish enough to lose the money. And two millions,more or less," ended Pine cynically, "is too large a sum to pay for asecond husband."
"Does Agnes know these conditions?"
"No. Nor do I intend that she should know. You hold your tongue."
Miss Greeby pulled on her heavy gloves and nodded. "I told you that Ihad some notion of honor. Will you let Lambert know that you are in thisneighborhood?"
"No. There is no need. I am stopping here only for a time to see acertain person. Silver will look after Agnes, and is coming to the campto report upon what he has observed."
"Silver then knows that you are Ishmael Hearne?"
"Yes. He knows all my secrets, and I can trust him thoroughly, since heowes everything to me."
Miss Greeby laughed scornfully. "That a man of your age and experienceshould believe in gratitude. Well, it's no business of mine. You may becertain that f
or my own purpose I shall hold my tongue and shall keepLambert from seeking your wife. Not that he loves her," she addedhastily, as Pine's brows again drew together. "But she loves him, andmay use her arts--"
"Don't you dare to speak of arts in connection with my wife," broke inthe man roughly. "She is no coquette, and I trust her--"
"So long as Silver looks after her," finished Miss Greebycontemptuously. "What chivalrous confidence. Well, I must be going. Anymessage to your--"
"No! No! No!" broke in Pine once more. "She is not to know that I amhere, or anything about my true position and name. You promised, and youwill keep your promise. But there, I know that you will, asself-interest will make you."
"Ah, now you talk common sense. It is a pity you don't bring it to bearin the case of Silver, whom you trust because you have benefited him.Good-day, you very unsophisticated person. I shall see you again--"
"In London as Hubert Pine," said the millionaire abruptly, and MissGreeby, with a good-humored shrug, marched away, swinging her stick andwhistling gayly. She was very well satisfied with the knowledge she hadobtained, as the chances were that it would prove useful should Lambertstill hanker after the unattainable woman. Miss Greeby had lulled Pine'ssuspicions regarding the young man's love for Agnes, but she knew in herheart that she had only done so by telling a pack of miserable lies.Now, as she walked back to The Manor, she reflected that by using hersecret information dexterously, she might improve such falsehood intotolerable truth.
Pine flung himself down again when she departed, and coughed in hisusual violent manner. His throat and lungs ached, and his brow was wetwith perspiration. With his elbows on his knees and his face between hishands, he sat miserably thinking over his troubles. There was no chanceof his living more than a few years, as the best doctors in Europe andEngland had given him up, and when he was placed below ground, thechances were that Agnes would marry his rival. He had made things assafe as was possible against such a contingency, but who knew if herlove for Lambert might not make her willing to surrender the millions."Unless Garvington can manage to arouse her family pride," groaned Pinedrearily. "She sacrificed herself before for that, and perhaps she willdo so again. But who knows?" And he could find no answer to thisquestion, since it is impossible for any man to say what a woman will dowhere her deepest emotions are concerned.
A touch on Pine's shoulder made him leap to his feet with the alertnessof a wild animal on the lookout for danger. By his side stood Chaldea,and her eyes glittered, as she came to the point of explanation withoutany preamble. The girl was painfully direct. "I have heard every word,"she said triumphantly. "And I know what you are, brother."
"Why did you come here?" demanded Pine sharply, and frowning.
"I wanted to hear what a Romany had to do with a Gorgio lady, brother.And what do I hear. Why, that you dwell in the Gentile houses, and takea Gentile name, and cheat in a Gentile manner, and have wed with aGentile romi. Speaking Romanly, brother, it is not well."
"It is as I choose, sister," replied Pine quietly, for since Chaldea hadgot the better of him, it was useless to quarrel with her. "And fromwhat I do good will come to our people."
Chaldea laughed, and blew from her fingers a feather, carelessly pickedup while in the thicket which had concealed her eavesdropping. "Forthat, I care that," said she, pointing to the floating feather slowlysettling. "I looks to myself and to my love, brother."
"Hey?" Pine raised his eyebrows.
"It's a Gorgio my heart is set on," pursued Chaldea steadfastly. "Aregular Romany Rye, brother. Do you think Lambert is a good name?"
"It's the name of the devil, sister," cried Pine hastily.
"The very devil I love. To me sweet, as to you sour. And speakingRomanly, brother, I want him to be my rom in the Gentile fashion, as youhave a romi in your Gorgious lady."
"What will Kara say?" said Pine, and his eyes flashed, for the idea ofgetting rid of Lambert in this way appealed to him. The girl wasbeautiful, and with her added cleverness she might be able to gain herends, and these accomplished, would certainly place a barrier betweenAgnes and her cousin, since the woman would never forgive the man forpreferring the girl.
"Kara plays on the fiddle, but not on my heart-strings," said Chaldea ina cool manner, and watched Pine wickedly. "You'd better help me,brother, if you don't want that Gorgious romi of yours to pad the hoofwith the rye."
The blood rushed to Pine's dark cheeks. "What's that?"
"No harm to my rye and I tell you, brother. Don't use the knife."
"That I will not do, if a wedding-ring from him to you will do as well."
"It will do, brother," said Chaldea calmly. "My rye doesn't love me yet,but he will, when I get him away from the Gentile lady's spells. Theydraw him, brother, they draw him."
"Where do they draw him to?" demanded Pine, his voice thick withpassion.
"To the Gorgious house of the baro rai, the brother of your romi. Likean owl does he go after dusk to watch the nest."
"Owl," muttered Pine savagely. "Cuckoo, rather. Prove this, my sister,and I help you to gain the love you desire."
"It's a bargain, brother"--she held out her hand inquiringly--"but noknife."
Pine shook hands. "It's a bargain, sister. Your wedding-ring will partthem as surely as any knife. Tell me more!" And Chaldea in whispers toldhim all.