CHAPTER VII
CONTAINS CURIOUS CONFIDENCES
A week had gone by. Stewart, the lean, thin-faced head-keeper, who spokewith such a strong accent that guests from the South often failed tounderstand him, and who never seemed to sleep, so vigilant was he overthe Glencardine shootings, had reported the purchase of a couple of newpointers.
Therefore, one morning Lady Heyburn and her constant cavalier, Flockart,had walked across to the kennels close to the castle to inspect them.
At the end of the big, old-fashioned stable-yard, with grey stoneoutbuildings ranged down either side, and the ancient mounting-block aconspicuous object, were ranged the modern iron kennels full of pointersand spaniels. In that big, old, paved quadrangle, the cobbles of whichwere nowadays stained by the oil of noisy motor-cars, many a Graham ofGlencardine had mounted to ride into Stirling or Edinburgh, or to drivein his coach to far-off London. The stables were now empty, but thegarage adjoining, whence came the odour of petrol, contained the twoGlencardine cars, besides three others belonging to members of thatmerry, irresponsible house-party.
The inspection of the pointers was a mere excuse on her ladyship's partto be alone with Flockart.
She wished to speak with him, and with that object suggested that theyshould take the by-road which, crossing one of the main roads throughthe estate, led through a leafy wood away to a railway level-crossinghalf a mile off. The road was unfrequented, and they were not likely tomeet any of the guests, for some were away fishing, others had motoredinto Stirling, and at least three had walked down into Auchterarder totake a telegram for their blind host.
"Well, my dear Jimmy," asked the well-preserved, fair-haired woman inshort brown skirt and fresh white cotton blouse and sun-hat, "what haveyou discovered?"
"Very little," replied the easy-going man, who wore a suit of roughheather-tweed and a round cloth fishing-hat. "My information isunfortunately very meagre. You have watched carefully. Well, what haveyou found out?"
"That she's just as much in love with him as before--the little fool!"
"And I suppose he's just as devoted to her as ever--eh?"
"Of course. Since you've been away these last few days he's been overhere from Connachan, on one pretext or another, every day. Of courseI've been compelled to ask him to lunch, for I can't afford to quarrelwith his people, although I hate the whole lot of them. His mother givesherself such airs, and his father is the most terrible old bore in thewhole country."
"But the match would be an advantageous one--wouldn't it?" suggested theman strolling at her side, and he stopped to light a cigarette which hetook from a golden case.
"Advantageous! Of course it would! But we can't afford to allow it, mydear Jimmy. Think what such an alliance would mean to us!"
"To you, you mean."
"To you also. An ugly revelation might result, remember. Therefore itmust not be allowed. While Walter was abroad all was pretty plainsailing. Lots of the letters she wrote him I secured from the post-box,read them, and afterwards burned them. But now he's back there is adistinct peril. He's a cute young fellow, remember."
Flockart smiled. "We must discover a means by which to part them," hesaid slowly but decisively. "I quite agree with you that to allow thematter to go any further would be to court disaster. We have a good manyenemies, you and I, Winnie--many who would only be too pleased and eagerto rake up that unfortunate episode. And I, for one, have no desire tofigure in a criminal dock."
"Nor have I," she declared quickly.
"But if I went there you would certainly accompany me," he said, lookingstraight at her.
"What!" she gasped in quick dismay. "You would tell the truth and--anddenounce me?"
"I would not; but no doubt there are others who would," was his answer.
For a few moments her arched brows were knit, and she remained silent.Her reflections were uneasy ones. She and the man at her side, who foryears had been her confidant and friend, were both in imminent peril ofexposure. Their relations had always been purely platonic; therefore shewas not afraid of any allegation against her honour. What her enemieshad said were lies--all of them. Her fear lay in quite a differentdirection.
Her poor, blind, helpless husband was in ignorance of that terriblechapter of her own life--a chapter which she had believed to be closedfor ever, and yet which was, by means of a chain of unexpectedcircumstances, in imminent danger of being reopened.
"Well," she inquired at last in a blank voice, "and who are those otherswho, you believe, would be prepared to denounce me?"
"Certain persons who envy you your position, and who, perhaps, thinkthat you do not treat poor old Sir Henry quite properly."
"But I do treat him properly!" she declared vehemently. "If he prefersthe society of that chit of a girl of his to mine, how can I possiblyhelp it? Besides, people surely must know that, to me, the society of ablind old man is not exactly conducive to gaiety. I would only like toput those women who malign me into my place for a single year. Perhapsthey would become even more reckless of the _convenances_ than I am!"
"My dear Winnie," he said, "what's the use of discussing such an old andthreadbare theme? Things are not always what they seem, as the man witha squint said when he thought he saw two sovereigns where there was butone. The point before us is the girl's future."
"It lies in your hands," was her sharp reply.
"No; in yours. I have promised to look after Walter Murie."
"But how can I act?" she asked. "The little hussy cares nothing forme--only sees me at table, and spends the whole of her day with herfather."
"Act as I suggested last week," was his rejoinder. "If you did that theold man would turn her out of the place, and the rest would be easyenough."
"But----"
"Ah!" he laughed derisively, "I see you've some sympathy with the girlafter all. Very well, take the consequences. It is she who will be yourdeadliest enemy, remember; she who, if the disaster falls, will giveevidence against you. Therefore, you'd best act now, ere it's too late.Unless, of course, you are in fear of her."
"I don't fear her!" cried the woman, her eyes flashing defiance. "Why doyou taunt me like this? You haven't told me yet what took place on thenight of the ball."
"Nothing. The mystery is just as complete as ever."
"She defied you--eh?"
Her companion nodded.
"Then how do you now intend to act?"
"That's just the question I was about to put to you," he said. "There isa distinct peril--one which becomes graver every moment that the girland young Murie are together. How are we to avert it?"
"By parting them."
"Then act as I suggested the other day. It's the only way, Winnie,depend upon it--the only way to secure our own safety."
"And what would the world say of me, her stepmother, if it were knownthat I had done such a thing?"
"You've never yet cared for what the world said. Why should you carenow? Besides, it never will be known. I should be the only person in thesecret, and for my own sake it isn't likely that I'd give you away. Isit? You've trusted me before," he added; "why not again?"
"It would break my husband's heart," she declared in a low, intensevoice. "Remember, he is devoted to her. He would never recover from theshock."
"And yet the other night after the ball you said you were prepared tocarry out the suggestion, in order to save yourself," he remarked with acovert sneer.
"Perhaps I was piqued that she should defy my suggestion that she shouldgo to the ball."
"No, you were not. You never intended her to go. That you know."
When he spoke to her this man never minced matters. The woman was heldby him in a strange thraldom which surprised many people; yet to all itwas a mystery. The world knew nothing of the fact that James Flockartwas without a penny, and that he lived--and lived well, too--upon thecharity of Lady Heyburn. Two thousand pounds were placed, in secret,every year to his credit from her ladyship's private account atCoutts's, besides which he
received odd cheques from her whenever hisneeds required. To his friends he posed as an easy-going man-about-town,in possession of an income not large, but sufficient to supply him withboth comforts and luxuries. He usually spent the London season in hiscosy chambers in Half-Moon Street; the winter at Monte Carlo or atCairo; the summer at Aix, Vichy, or Marienbad; and the autumn in aseries of visits to houses in Scotland.
He was not exactly a ladies' man. Courtly, refined, and a splendidlinguist, as he was, the girls always voted him great fun; but from theelder ones, and from married women especially, he somehow held himselfaloof. His one woman-friend, as everybody knew, was the flighty,go-ahead Lady Heyburn.
Of the country-house party he was usually the life and soul. No mancould invent so many practical jokes or carry them on with suchrefinement of humour as he. Therefore, if the hostess wished to impartmerriment among her guests, she sought out and sent a pressinginvitation to "Jimmy" Flockart. A first-class shot, an excellenttennis-player, a good golfer, and quite a good hand at putting a stonein curling, he was an all-round sportsman who was sure to be highlypopular with his fellow-guests. Hence up in the north his advent wasalways welcomed with loud approbation.
To those who knew him, and knew him well, this confidential conversationwith the woman whose platonic friendship he had enjoyed through so manyyears would certainly have caused greatest surprise. That he was aschemer was entirely undreamed of. That he was attracted by "WinnieHeyburn" was declared to be only natural, in view of the age andaffliction of her own husband. Cases such as hers are often regardedwith a very lenient eye.
They had reached the level-crossing where, beside the line of theCaledonian Railway, stands the mail-apparatus by which the down-mail forEuston picks up the local bag without stopping, while the up-mail dropsits letters and parcels into the big, strong net. For a few moments theyhalted to watch the dining-car express for Euston pass with a roar and acrash as she dashed down the incline towards Crieff Junction.
Then, as they turned again towards the house, he suddenly exclaimed,"Look here, Winnie. We've got to face the music now. Every day increasesour peril. If you are actually afraid to act as I suggest, then tell mefrankly and I'll know what to do. I tell you quite openly that I haveneither desire nor intention to be put into a hole by this confoundedgirl. She has defied me; therefore she must take the consequences."
"How do you know that your action the other night has not aroused hersuspicions?"
"Ah! there you are quite right. It may have done so. If it has, then ourperil has very considerably increased. That's just my argument."
"But we'll have Walter to reckon with in any case. He loves her."
"Bah! Leave the boy to me. I'll soon show him that the girl's not wortha second thought," replied Flockart with nonchalant air. "All you haveto do is to act as I suggested the other night. Then leave the rest tome."
"And suppose it were discovered?" asked the woman, whose face had grownconsiderably paler.
"Well, suppose the worst happened, and it were discovered?" he asked,raising his brows slightly. "Should we be any worse off than would bethe case if this girl took it into her head to expose us--if the factswhich she could prove placed us side by side in an assize-court?"
The woman--clever, scheming, ambitious--was silent. The questionadmitted of no reply. She recognised her own peril. The picture ofherself arraigned before a judge, with that man beside her, rose beforeher imagination, and she became terrified. That slim, pale-faced girl,her husband's child, stood between her and her own honour, her ownsafety. Once the girl was removed, she would have no further fear, noapprehension, no hideous forebodings concerning the imminent future. Shesaw it all as she walked along that moss-grown forest-road, her eyesfixed straight before her. The tempter at her side had urged her tocommit a dastardly, an unpardonable crime. In that man's hands she was,alas! as wax. He poured into her ear a vivid picture of what mustinevitably result should Gabrielle reveal the ugly truth, at the sametime calmly watching the effect of his words upon her. Upon her decisiondepended his whole future as well as hers. What was Gabrielle's life tohers, asked the man point-blank. That was the question which decidedher--decided her, after long and futile resistance, to promise to committhe act which he had suggested. She gave the man her hand in pledge.
Then a slight smile of triumph played about his cruel nether lip, andthe pair retraced their steps towards the castle in silence.