decanters in silver stands along the bare table ofpolished oak, in accordance with the custom that had obtained atSibberton ever since the Jacobean days. The Stanchester cellars hadalways been celebrated, and assuredly there was not a finer port in thewhole country than that which they contained. Among the men, as theydrank their wine, the newly-arrived visitor became the centre ofattraction. Sportsmen all of them, Lord Stanchester had told them ofSmeeton's keenness after big game, and many questions were being put tohim regarding the practicability of shooting expeditions in East Africa.
At last an adjournment was made into the huge vaulted hall, the stainedglass and architecture of which reminded me of a church, where there wasmusic every evening. In the high roof hung those faded and tatteredbanners carried by the Stanchesters in various battles historic inEnglish history, and around the walls stands of armour in long andimposing rows.
Her ladyship was an excellent musician, and although in these days ofmechanical piano-playing music will, it is feared, soon be a neglectedart, she always played on the grand piano for the entertainment of herguests. Some songs were sung--mainly from the comic operas, _San Toy_,_The Geisha_, _The Country Girl_--and some even with a chorus heartilyjoined in by those lords and ladies of illustrious name. It was LibertyHall, and in the evening the fun always grew fast and furious.
Presently the bridge tables were set, parties were made up, cards weredealt and played, money rattled and very soon there were high stakes invarious quarters and a good deal of money began to change hands.
With two or three exceptions the whole party played bridge. Myself, Icould not afford to lose, and therefore never played. While among thosewho declined the invitation was Smeeton, who remained an interestedonlooker at his hostess's table.
Only by the slight trembling of her bejewelled hands could I detect inher any sign of fear, but when she rose as midnight chimed out from theturret clock over the stables, as a signal for the ladies to retire totheir rooms, he had, I noticed, disappeared. Perhaps he wished toobtain a secret interview with her, therefore I was quickly on thealert, and succeeded in gaining a point at the junction of two corridorsthat ran at right angles, and down which I knew she must pass. In orderto escape notice I slipped into one of the rooms and stood in the darkwith the door slightly ajar.
She came at last alone, her silken skirts sweeping with loud frou-frou,her diamonds glistening in the light as she advanced. Her guests hadpassed out into the new wing, but she habitually reached her room bythis corridor, which was a short cut and ran through a portion of thevast mansion not generally used.
She had almost gained the doorway wherein I stood, when I heard hurryingsteps behind her, and next moment Smeeton caught her roughly by thewrist, exclaiming in a quick determined whisper as he bent to her--
"Marigold! Marigold! Have I so changed that you don't know me? I toldyou that I should return and here I am! You thought you could escape bymarrying this man--but you can't! The awkward little matter outstandingbetween us still remains to be arranged, and I think you know Dick Keenewell enough to be aware that in an affair of this sort he's not a man tobe trifled with. So you know well enough what I'm here for, and what aword from me to these fine friends of yours will mean to you. Do youhear me?" he added, with a hard ring in his voice. "What have you tosay?"
CHAPTER TWENTY.
RICHARD KEENE MAKES A REVELATION.
The Countess, unconscious of my presence, halted quickly, and turningupon him with a start exclaimed--
"I--I really don't understand what you mean, Mr Smeeton!"
"Understand what I mean!" he echoed with a short dry laugh. "I supposeyou'll deny acquaintance with me next!"
"I certainly do not recollect having met you before," she answered withadmirable hauteur.
"What?" he exclaimed, in undisguised surprise at her bold attempt todisclaim any previous acquaintance. "Do you actually affirm that wehave never previously known each other?"
"Never until this evening," was her response. "That is why I don'tunderstand what you mean in addressing me in this manner."
He burst out laughing, treating her bold denial with derision. Yet sheremained firm, and in indignation exclaimed--
"Let me pass. I think, Mr Smeeton, you have forgotten yourself thisevening."
"No," he said. "I never forget a debt that is owing me. I am here forrepayment."
"I really don't understand you. It's late, and one of the servants maypass this way and overhear you. Let us resume this highly interestingdiscussion in the morning," she suggested. "This must no doubt be acase of mistaken identity. I can only suppose I resemble somebody youknow."
"There was but one Marigold Gordon," he replied, in a hard firm voice."There was but one Marigold who wrecked one man's happiness, and whoafterwards married another because of his wealth and position--yourself."
"Oh! this is insupportable!" she cried indignantly. "I shall tell myhusband that I'm insulted by his guest--a man from nowhere. Let mepass--I say!"
"Yes, a man from nowhere," he sneered. "Richard Keene is always fromnowhere, because he has no fixed home. He comes to-day from nowhere andgoes to nowhere. But before he goes he means that his account with youshall be settled. Understand that!"
"Well, you've said so already," she laughed. "Is it the action of agentleman to utter all kinds of vague threats like this?"
"Vague threats! You'll find that they are more than vague. What I sayI mean. You think," he added, "to escape by denying all previousacquaintance with me. But you'll discover your mistake when too late."
"I have no reason to escape," she declared with a nonchalant air thatamazed me, knowing how at heart she feared him. "I shall merely tell myhusband of this indignity, and leave him to act as he thinks best."
"Ah!" he remarked, "you are a clever woman, Marigold--you always were.Is it really necessary to remind you of those ugly events of three yearsago in which you and Lolita were so intimately concerned, or that therestill exists a certain woman named Lejeune?"
"I desire no reminder of any matters which concern me," she repliedcoldly. "This does not."
"But it concerns Lolita--and what concerns her concerns you. She fledto the north the instant she heard that I had returned, for she fearedto meet me."
"Her affairs are not mine," declared the Countess unmoved. "You arespeaking of something of which I am in utter ignorance. Why don't youexplain your meaning?"
"Shall I speak openly?" he said. "Very well, if you prefer it, I will.If you recollect nothing else, perhaps you will remember that a youngman named Hugh Wingfield was found dead in the park here quiterecently--murdered."
"I heard of it. I was at Aix-les-Bains," she replied.
"You saw his photograph--your husband showed it to you after yourreturn, and you recognised who the dead man was who had remainedunidentified."
"How could I recognise a person whom I had never seen before?"
"Then you also deny acquaintance with Hugh Wingfield, the poor youngfellow who fell into the trap so cunningly set for him?"
"Certainly. Why?"
"Well, because you are a more wonderful woman, Marigold, than even Ibelieved," he answered in his deep rather rough voice. "You're aperfect marvel."
"Not at all," she answered quite calmly. "First, I do not see whatgives you permission to call me by my Christian name; and secondly, Idon't see the motive you have in endeavouring to fix upon me knowledgeof certain matters of which I am in entire ignorance. Perhaps you'llexplain why, being my husband's guest and only a few hours in thishouse, you arrest me like this, and commence all these extraordinaryinsinuations? You claim acquaintanceship with me, while I declare thatI didn't know you from Adam until my husband introduced us just beforedinner."
"Then what I have to reply is the reverse of complimentary. If you hadbeen a man I should have told you to your face that you were a liar."
"You may disbelieve me as you will," she responded still unruffled."But I merely tell you that
I have no further desire to stand here andbe insulted," and although she tried to pass him he again clutched herwrist fiercely and prevented her.
"You shall answer me!" he whispered angrily. "You are Marigold Gordon,now Countess of Stanchester; you are the woman I am here to meet, tospeak with calmly, and to come to an amicable settlement--if possible.You know, as well as I do, that Lolita's future in is your hands, justas it is in mine. A word from either of us can ruin her. It would meanfor her arrest, disgrace, condemnation. Now, do you intend to speak andto save her; or will you still deny previous