CHAPTER IV
AN EVIL GENIUS
Thus, despite the bad beginning at Merriton Towers the weeks thatfollowed were filled with happiness for Merriton. His acquaintance with'Toinette flourished and that charming young woman grew to mean more andmore to the man who had led such a lonely life.
And so one day wove itself into another with the joy of sunlight overboth their lives. He took to going regularly to Withersby Hall, andbecame an expected guest, dropping in at all hours to wile away an houror two in 'Toinette's company, or else to have a quiet game of billiardswith Brellier, or a cigar in company with both of them, in the garden,while the sun was still up. He never mentioned the flames to them again.But he never investigated them either. He had promised 'Toinette that,though he often watched them from his bedroom window, at night, watchedthem and wondered, and thought a good deal about Borkins and how he hadlied to him about his uncle's disappearance upon that first night.Between Borkins and himself there grew up a spirit of distrust which heregretted yet did nothing to counteract. In fact it is to be feared thathe did his best at times to irritate the staid old man who had been inthe family so long. Borkins _did_ amuse him, and he couldn't help leadinghim on. Borkins, noting this attitude, drew himself into himself and hisface became mask-like in its impassivity.
But if Borkins became a stone image whenever Merriton was about, hiseffusiveness was over-powering at such times as Mr. Brellier paid a visitto the Towers. He followed both Brellier and his niece wherever they wentlike a shadow. Jokingly one day, Merriton had made the remark: "Borkinsmight be your factotum rather than mine, Mr. Brellier; indeed I've nodoubt he would be, if the traditions of the house had not so long lain inhis hands." He was rewarded for this remark by a sudden tightening ofBrellier's lips, and then by an equally sudden smile. They were very goodfriends these days--Brellier and Merriton, and got on very excellentlytogether.
And then, as the days wore themselves away and turned into months,Merriton woke up to the fact that he could wait no longer before puttinghis luck to the test so far as 'Toinette was concerned. He had alreadyconfided his secret to Brellier, who laughed and patted him on the backand told him that he had known of it a long time and wished him luck. Itwasn't long after this he was telling Brellier the good news that'Toinette had accepted, and the two of them came to tell him of theirhappiness.
"So?" Mr. Brellier said quietly. "Well, I am very, very glad. You havetaken your time, _mes enfants_, in settling this greatest of allquestions, but perhaps you have been wise.... I am very happy for you, my'Toinette, for I feel that your future is in the keeping of a good andtrue man. There are all too few in the world, believe me!...
"'Toinette, a friend awaits you in the drawing-room. Someone, I fear me,who will be none too pleased to hear this news, but that's as may be.Dacre Wynne is there, 'Toinette."
At the name a chill came over Merriton.
_Dacre Wynne!_ And here! Impossible, and yet the name was too uncommonfor it to be a different person from the man who always seemed somehow toturn up wherever he, Merriton, might chance to be. Sort of a fatefulaffinity. Good friends and all that, but somehow the things he alwayswanted, Dacre Wynne had invariably come by just beforehand. There wasmuch more than friendly rivalry in their acquaintanceship. And once, asmere youngsters of seventeen and eighteen, there had been a girl, _his_girl, until Dacre came and took her with that masterful way of his. Therewas something brutally over-powering about Dacre, hard as granite,forceful, magnetic. To Nigel's young, clean, wholesome mind, little givento morbid imaginings as it was, it had almost seemed as if their twospirits were in some stifling stranglehold together, wrapt about andintertwined by a hand operating by means of some unknown medium. And nowto find him here in his hour of happiness. Was this close, uncomfortablecompanionship of the spirit to be forced on him again? If Wynne werepresent he felt he would be powerless to avoid it.
"Do you know Dacre Wynne?" he asked, his voice betraying an emotion thatwas almost fear.
'Toinette Brellier glanced at her uncle, hesitated, and then murmured:"Yes--I--do. I didn't know you did, Nigel. He never spoke of you.I--he--you see he wants me, too, Nigel, and I am almost afraid to tellhim--about us. But I--I have to see him. Shall I tell him?"
"Of course. Poor chap, I am sorry for him. Yes, I know him, 'Toinette.But I cannot say we are friends. You see, I--Oh, well, it doesn'tmatter."
But how much Dacre Wynne was to matter to him, and to 'Toinette, and tothe public, and to far away Scotland Yard, and to the man of mystery,Hamilton Cleek, not they--nor any one else--could possibly tell.
They went into the long, cool drawing room together, and came upon DacreWynne, clad in riding things, and looking, just as Nigel remembered healways looked, very bronzed and big and handsome in a heavy way. His backwas toward them and his eyes were upon a photo of 'Toinette that stood ona carved secretaire. He wheeled at the sound of their footsteps and cameforward, his face lighting with pleasure, his hand outstretched. Then hesaw Merriton behind 'Toinette's tiny figure, and for a moment some of thepleasure went out of his eyes.
"Hello," he said. "However did you get to this part of the world? Youalways turn up like a bad penny.... What a time you've been 'Toinette!"
Merriton greeted him pleasantly, and 'Toinette's radiant eyes smiled upinto his bronzed face.
"Have I?" she said, with a little embarrassed laugh. "Well, I have beenout riding--with Nigel."
"Oh, Nigel lives round here, does he?" said Wynne, with a sarcasticlaugh. "Like it, old man?"
"Oh, I like it well enough," retorted Merriton. "At any rate I'll beobliged to get used to it. I've said good-bye to India for keeps, Wynne.I'm settled here for good."
Wynne swung upon his heel at the tone of Merriton's voice, and his eyesnarrowed. He stood almost a head taller than Nigel--who was by no meansshort--and was big and broad and heavy-chested. Merriton always felt ata disadvantage.
"So? You are going to settle down to it altogether, then?" said Wynne,with an odd note in his deep, booming voice. 'Toinette sent a quick,rather scared look into her lover's face. He smiled back as though toreassure her.
"Yes," he said, a trifle defiantly. "You see, Wynne, I've come into aplace near here. I'm--I'm hoping to get married soon. 'Toinette and I,you know. She's done me the honour to promise to be my wife. Congratulateme, won't you?"
It was like a blow full in the face to the other man. For a moment allthe colour drained out of his bronzed cheeks and he went as white asdeath.
"I--I--certainly congratulate you, with all my heart," he said, speakingin a strange, husky voice. "Believe me, you're a luckier chap, Merriton,than you know. Quite the luckiest chap in the world."
He took out his handkerchief suddenly and blew his nose, and then wipedhis forehead, which, Merriton noted, was damp with perspiration. Then hefelt in his pockets and produced a cigarette.
"I may smoke, 'Toinette? Thanks. I've had a long ride, and a hardone.... And so you two are going to get married, are you?"
'Toinette's face, too, was rather pale. She smiled nervously, andinstinctively her hand crept out and touched Merriton's sleeve. She couldfeel him stiffen suddenly, and saw how proudly he threw back his head.
"Yes," said 'Toinette. "We're going to be married, Dacre. And I am--oh,so happy! I know you cannot help being pleased--with that. And uncle,too. He seems delighted."
Wynne measured her with his eyes for a moment. Then he looked quicklyaway.
"Well, Merriton, you've got your own back for little Rosie Deverill,haven't you? Remember how heart-broken you were at sixteen, when sheturned her rather wayward affections to me? Now--the tables have turned.Well, I wish you luck. Think I'll be getting along. I've a good deal ofwork to do this evening, and I'll be shipping for Cairo, I hope, nextweek. That's what I came to see you about 'Toinette, but I'm afraid I ama little--late."
"Cairo, Mr. Wynne?" Brellier had entered the room and his voice held anote of surprise. "We shall miss you--"
"Oh, you'll get on all right
without me, my friend," returned Wynne witha grim smile, and a look that included all three of them in its mockamusement. "I'm not quite so much wanted as I thought. Well, Nigel, Isuppose you'll be giving a dinner, the proper 'stag' party, before youbecome a Benedict. Sorry I can't be here to join in the revels."
He put out his hand, Nigel took it, and wrung it with a heartiness andfriendship that he had never before felt; but after all he had conquered!It was he Antoinette was going to marry. His heart was brimming over withpity for the man.
"Look here," he said. "Come and dine with me at the Towers before you go,Wynne, old man. We'll have a real bachelor party as you say. All theother chaps and you, just to give you a sort of send off. What aboutTuesday? I won't have you say no."
For a moment a look of friendship came into Wynne's eyes. He gazed intoMerriton's, and then returned the hand-grasp frankly. It was almost asthough he understood this mute apology of Nigel's, and took it at itsproper value.
"Thanks, old boy. Very decent of you, I'm sure. Yes, I'd like to have apeep at the other chaps before I sail. Just for old times' sake. I'venothing special doing Tuesday that I can't put off. And so--I'll come. Solong."
"Good-bye," said Merriton, rather relieved at Wynne's attitude--and yet,in spite of himself, distrusting it.
"Good-bye, 'Toinette.... It's really good-bye _this_ time. And I wish youall the happiness you deserve."
"Thank you."
He looked into her eyes a moment, and then with a sudden sigh turnedquickly away and went out of the room. Brellier strode after him andwrung his hand while the two that were left clung to each other insilence. It was as though an unseen, sinister presence had suddenly gonefrom the room. The tension was lifted, and they could breathe naturallyagain.
Standing together they heard the front door slam.