CHAPTER XXVI
MADAME DE MELBAIN
Punctually at half-past seven the carriage arrived to take Wrayson to thechateau. A few minutes' drive along a road fragrant with the perfume ofhay, and with the pleasant sound of the reaping machines in his ears, andthe carriage turned into the park through the great iron gates, whichopened this time without demur. By the side of the road was a clear troutstream, a little further away a herd of deer stood watching the carriagepass. The park was uncultivated but picturesque, becoming more wooded asthey climbed the hill leading to the chateau. Wrayson smiled to himselfas he remembered that this magnificent home and estate belonged to thewoman who was his neighbour at Battersea, and whom he himself had beenmore than half inclined to put down as an adventuress.
A major-domo in quiet black clothes, who seemed to reflect in his toneand manner the subdued splendour of the place, received him at the door,passing him on at once to a footman in powdered hair and resplendentlivery. Across a great hall, whose white stone floor, height, andstained-glass windows gave Wrayson the impression that he had found hisway by mistake into the nave of a cathedral, he was ushered into adrawing-room, whose modernity and comparatively low ceiling were almost arelief. Here there were books and flowers and music, some exquisitewater-colours upon the white walls, newspapers and magazines lying about,which gave the place a habitable air. A great semicircular windowcommanded a wonderful view of the park, but Wrayson had little time toadmire it. A door was opened at the further end of the room, and he heardthe soft rustling of a woman's gown upon the carpet. It was Louise whocame towards him.
She was dressed in white muslin, unrelieved by ornament or any suggestionof colour. Her cheeks were unusually pale, and the shadows under her eyesseemed to speak of trouble. Yet Wrayson thought that he had never seenher look more beautiful. She gave him her hand with a faint smile ofwelcome, and permitted him to raise it to his lips.
"This is very, very foolish," she said softly, "and I know that I oughtto be ashamed of myself."
"On the contrary," he answered, "I think that it is very natural. But,seriously, I feel a little overpowered. You won't want to live always ina castle, will you, Louise?"
She sighed, and smiled, and sighed again.
"I am afraid that our castle, Herbert," she murmured, "will exist only inthe air! But listen. I must speak to you before the others come in."
"I am all attention," he assured her.
"It is about Madame de Melbain," she began, a little hesitatingly.
He waited for her to continue. She seemed to be in some difficulty.
"I want you to watch and do just what we others do," she said, "and notto be surprised if some of our arrangements seem a little curious. Forinstance, although she is the elder, do not give her your arm fordinner. She will go in first alone, and you must take me."
"I can assure you," Wrayson said, smiling, "that I shall make nodifficulty about that."
"And she doesn't like to be talked to very much," Louise continued.
"I will humour her in that also," Wrayson promised. "She is a good sortto let me come here at all."
"She is very kind and very considerate," Louise said, "and her life hasbeen a very unhappy one."
Wrayson moved his chair a little nearer.
"Need we talk about her any more?" he asked. "There is so much I want tosay to you about ourselves."
She looked at him for a moment, a little sadly, a little wistfully.
"Ah! don't," she murmured. "Don't talk about definite things at all. Forto-night--to-night only, let us drift!"
He smiled at her reassuringly.
"Don't be afraid," he said. "I am not going to ask you any questions. Iam not going to ask for any explanations. I think that we have passed allthat. It is of the future I wanted to speak."
"Don't," she begged softly. "Of the past I dare not think, nor of thefuture. It is only the present which belongs to us."
"The present and the future," he answered firmly.
She rose suddenly to her feet, and Wrayson instinctively followed herexample. They were no longer alone. Two women, who had entered by a doorat the further end of the apartment, were slowly approaching them. Theforemost was tall and dark, a little slim, perhaps, but with an elegantfigure, and a carriage of singular dignity. Her face was youthful, andher brown eyes were soft and clear as the eyes of a girl, but her darkhair was plentifully streaked with grey, and there was about her wholeappearance an air of repressed sadness.
"This is Mr. Wrayson, is it not?" she asked, in a very sweet voice, butwith a strong foreign accent. "We have so few visitors that one canscarcely make a mistake. You are very welcome."
She did not offer to shake hands, and Wrayson contented himself witha low bow.
"You are very kind," he murmured.
"Monsieur le Baron," she remarked, turning to an elderly gentleman whohad just entered, "will doubtless find your coming pleasant. Theentertainment of three ladies must have seemed at times a little trying.Let me make you gentlemen known to one another, Monsieur Wrayson,Monsieur le Baron de Courcelles. And Ida," she added, turning to hercompanion, who had moved a few steps apart, "permit that I present toyou, also, Mr. Wrayson--Mademoiselle de Courcelles."
The conversation for a moment or two followed the obvious lines. Madamede Melbain and Louise had drawn a little apart; a few remarks as to thebeauty of the chateau and its situation passed between Wrayson and theBaron. The name of its owner was mentioned, and Wrayson indicated hisacquaintance with her. At the sound of her name, Madame de Melbainturned somewhat abruptly round, and seemed to be listening; but at thatmoment the door was thrown open, and the major-domo of the household,who had received Wrayson, announced dinner. He directly addressed Madamede Melbain.
"Madame is served," he murmured respectfully.
The little procession arranged itself as Louise had intimated. Madame deMelbain led the way, ushered by the major-domo and followed immediatelyby the Baron and Mademoiselle de Courcelles. Wrayson, with Louise,brought up the rear. They crossed the white flagged hall and entered anapartment which Wrayson, although his capacity for wonder wasdiminishing, felt himself compelled to pause and admire. It was of greatheight, and again the curiously shaped windows were filled with stainedglass. The oak-panelled walls, black with age, were hung with portraits,sombre and yet vivid, and upon a marble pedestal at the end of the room,lifelike, and untouched by the centuries, stood a wonderful presentationof Ralph de St. Etarpe, the founder of the house, clad in the armour ofhis days. The dinner table, with its brilliant and modern appurtenancesof flowers and plate, standing in the middle of the floor, seemed like aminute and yet startling anachronism. The brilliant patches of scarletgeranium, the deep blue livery of the two footmen, the glitter of theVenetian glass upon the table, were like notes of alien colour amongstsurroundings whose chief characteristic was a magnificent restraint, andyet such dignity as it was possible to impart into the everyday businessof eating and drinking was certainly manifest in the meal, whichpresently took its leisurely course.
Wrayson, although no one could accuse him of a lack of _savoir faire_,found himself scarcely at his ease. Madame de Melbain; erect; dignified,and beautiful, sat at the head of the table, and although she addresseda remark to each of them occasionally, she remained alwaysunapproachable. The Baron made only formal attempts at conversation, andMademoiselle de Courcelles was absolutely silent. Wrayson was unable todivest himself of the feeling of representing an alien presence amongst alittle community drawn closely together by some mysterious tie. Louisewas his only link with them, and to Louise he decided to devote himselfentirely, regardless of the apparent demands of custom. His position atthe table enabled him to do this, and very soon he discovered that it wasprecisely what was expected of him. The conversation between the others,such as it was, lapsed into German, or some kindred tongue. Wrayson foundhimself able presently to talk confidentially with Louise.
"Remember," he said, after a slight pause, "that I have finishedal
together with the role of investigator. I no longer have any curiosityabout anything. Still, I think that there is something which I ought totell you."
She smiled.
"You may tell me as much as you like," she said, "as long as you don'task questions."
"Exactly! Well, there is another Englishman staying at the _Lion d'Or._He appears to be a decent fellow, and a gentleman. I am not going to talkabout him. I imagine that he is harmless."
"We have heard of him," Louise murmured. "It certainly appears as thoughhe were only an ordinary tourist. Has any one else arrived?"
"Yes!" Wrayson answered, "some one else has arrived, and I want to tellyou about him."
Louise was obviously disturbed. She refused a course a littleimpatiently, and turned towards Wrayson anxiously.
"But the landlord," she said in a low tone, "has orders to receive nomore guests."
"This man arrived to luncheon to-day," Wrayson answered. "The landlordcould not refuse him that. He wished for a room and was told that hecould not be taken in."
"Well, who is he, what is he like?" she demanded.
"He is a miserable sort of bounder--an imitation cockney tourist, withready-made English clothes, a knapsack, and a camera. I should have feltsuspicious about him myself, but the other fellow whom I told you about,who is staying at the inn, recognized him. He had seen him abroad, andwhat he told me seems decisive. I am afraid that he is a spy."
Wrayson cursed himself for a moment that he had been so outspoken, forthe girl by his side seemed almost on the point of collapse. Her eyeswere full of fear, and she clutched at the tablecloth as though overcomewith a spasm of terror.
"Don't be alarmed," Wrayson whispered in her ear. "I am sure, I am quitesure that he is not here for what you may fear. I don't believe he is anEnglishman at all."
The girl recovered herself amazingly.
"I was not thinking of myself," she said quietly; and Wrayson noticedthat her eyes were fixed upon the pale, distinguished face of the womanwho sat with a certain air of isolation at the head of the table.