CHAPTER XVIII
MRS. MONA MAY
Geoffrey was slightly puzzled but, like a good soldier, he asked noquestions. More and more he was coming to recognize that it was Ralph'sto command and his to obey. Doubtless Ralph had some good reason when hetreated his nephew like a puppet, but then the puppet was a long wayfrom a fool, and as the days went on, it came home to him with anincreasing force that he had a master mind to deal with.
He had been told off this afternoon to lurk more or less concealed atthe top of the steep pitch leading to the village, and there wait untilsomething happened. It came at the end of a few minutes in the shape ofa lady in perfect cycling costume, wheeling a machine up the hilltowards Jessop's farm. As she came nearer to the spot where Geoffrey wassmoking, a ragged nomad sprang from the hedge and demanded alms. The manwas coarse and threatening, he was by no means sober, and his demandstook the by no means modest form of a shilling.
A second later there was a slight scream and Geoffrey darted forward.The sight of a woman in distress sufficed for him; Ralph was forgottenin an instant. There was a scuffle and a plunge, a rapid exit of thenomad and, hat in hand, Geoffrey was receiving the thanks of a beautifulwoman, who was pleased to assure him that he was her preserver.
"It is nothing," Geoffrey stammered, "nothing, really."
It was not usual for him to be confused like this. But then he wasstanding face to face with the handsome stranger who had taken Mr.Jessop's rooms, the lady with the love of white flowers, the woman whoemployed Oriental servants, who were given to strange incantations, thecreature in whom Ralph Ravenspur had taken so vivid an interest.
And Geoffrey's confusion grew none the less as it flashed upon him thatthe intoxicated tramp had been the god in the car designed by Ralph tobring this introduction about.
He steadied himself. There was work before him now.
"You exaggerate my poor services," he said.
"Not at all, I assure you," the lady said. Her eyes held a strangefascination; her voice was low and sweetly sedative. She was years olderthan Geoffrey, but just the kind of siren who drove young men mad, orlured them to destruction. "Few strangers would have faced so formidablean opponent for me."
"Most of my countrymen would," Geoffrey said. "I hope you have a betteropinion of Englishmen than that. But Englishmen are not favoritesabroad."
The dark eyes were dancing with amusement.
"You are under the impression that I am not English?" she asked.
"Well, there is a certain grace," Geoffrey stammered, "that spokeof----"
"Foreign blood. Precisely. But all the same, I am proud to call myselfan Englishwoman. My name is Mrs. May--Mona May. You are Mr. GeoffreyRavenspur."
"At your service. I had the pleasure of seeing you the other morning inMrs. Jessop's kitchen. Meanwhile, to prevent any further trouble fromour predatory friend, I am going to walk with you as far as the farm."
Mrs. May raised no objection; on the contrary, she seemed pleased withthe idea. She was dangerous, she was mixed up in some way with theconspiracy against the peace and happiness of the house of Ravenspur,and yet Geoffrey found it hard to resist her fascinations.
She spoke almost perfect English, her dress, and style and manner wereinsular, but there was a flashing grace about her, a suggestion ofsomething warm and Eastern, that gleamed and flashed in spite of hercycling dress and the wheel she pushed along so skillfully.
She gave a sigh of regret as the farmhouse was reached.
"Well, I suppose we must part," she said. "Really, it seems years sinceI spoke to a gentleman and I have only been here for days. I have beenordered absolute rest and quietness for the benefit of my health and,upon my word, I am getting it. Would you take pity upon my lonelinessand come to tea?"
Many an older man than Geoffrey had been excused from yielding to such arequest. Those eyes were so dark and pleading, and the man was young.Besides, he had an excuse. Had not his uncle Ralph planned this thingand was it not intended to bring about an introduction! Besides, onceinside that room, it might be possible to find something that in thefuture would yield great results.
"I shall be only too pleased," Geoffrey murmured.
"Then come along," Mrs. May said gaily. "If you are fond of a good cupof tea, then I have some of the most perfect in the world."
She led the way into the old-fashioned drawing-room, which she hadrendered beautiful with flowers. The stiff furniture looked stiff nolonger. The hand of an artistic woman had been here and the whole aspectwas changed.
"You should have seen it when I came here," Mrs. May smiled as shefollowed Geoffrey's glance. "It was like a condemned cell. And yet thereare things of price here. A little alteration and a few flowers--ah,what a difference flowers make!"
She pointed to her own floral decorations. The room was ablaze withthem. And they were all scarlet.
There was not a single bloom of any other kind to be seen.
"They match my style of beauty," Mrs. May laughed. "I never have anyother here."
"You do not care for white flowers?" Geoffrey asked.
"I abhor them. They suggest beautiful maidens cut off in their prime,dead children, the tomb, and all kinds of horrors. I would not have onein the house."
Geoffrey was discreetly silent. Remembering the hundreds of whiteflowers he himself had seen in this very room not so long ago, thisspeech staggered him. In a dazed kind of way he watched Mrs. May light aspirit lamp under a silver kettle, after which she excused herself onthe score of fetching the famous tea.
Geoffrey picked up an album and turned the leaves over rapidly. Therewere soldiers, one or two native Indian officials, a great number ofSociety people, professional beauties, and the like and--and Marion!
Yes, her fair tender face smiled from the embossed, richly gilt page.The picture had been taken some years ago, but there was no mistakingthose pure features. Geoffrey closed the book and walked over to thewindow. Surprise upon surprise had come upon him lately, but this wasstaggering.
When Mrs. May returned he was himself again. He could answer herquestions gaily and smoothly. It was only when he was on his way homeagain that he recollected how much information he had imparted and howlittle he had got in return.
"You must come and see me again," Mrs. May said. "Now, can't you come upsome evening and dine with me? Say Thursday. Unless I hear from you tothe contrary I shall see you on Thursday at seven. A primitive time, butthen we are in the country."
"You may be certain," Geoffrey said carelessly, "that I shall come ifpossible. Good-bye, Mrs. May. In ordinary circumstances my people wouldhave called upon you. You will know why it is impossible."
Mrs. May pressed Geoffrey's hand with gentle sympathy.
"You have my real regrets," she said. "What a horrible thing it is tothink that you are all powerless to help it. Good-bye."
Geoffrey found Ralph at the entrance to the castle gate. There was aqueer smile on his face, a smile of amused expectation.
"You found her charming?" he asked.
"And clever," said Geoffrey. "I guessed your plot, uncle. She is veryclever."
"The cleverest woman in the world, the most wicked, the mostunscrupulous. Of course she asked you to dinner, and, of course, youwill go. Nobody is to know of it, mind."
"Uncle, how did you guess that?"
"I'll tell you presently. And I'll tell you many things you will have tosay and leave unsaid to--Mrs. May."
"Tell me why Marion's photograph is in her album."
"So she showed you that!"
"No, I found it out by accident. Is Marion connected with her?"
"Very closely, indeed. She is Marion's evil genius. And yet through thatpure and innocent girl we are going to strike at the heart of themystery. Ask me no questions, now; to-night we will go carefully intothe matter."