CHAPTER XXV
With the letter to Beatrice safe in her pocket, Mary made her way to the_Royal Palace Hotel_. She had her own idea as to what she was going todo, and that certainly was not to invite Beatrice to go to Wandsworth.For the girl had a difficult and dangerous task before her. Rightly orwrongly, it seemed to her that her place was by the side of the brotherwho had treated her so badly. Many a good woman before had sacrificedherself to a scoundrel, and many a good woman will do so again. Mary hadalways clung to the idea that Sartoris might be brought back to the foldagain. She knew pretty well how far he had fallen, but she did not quiteunderstand the deep depravity of the man's nature. After all, he was anobject to be pitied; after all, he had been the victim of a woman'scruelty, or so Mary thought. But Mary did not know everything; had shedone so she would have been forced to leave her brother to his owndevices.
She came at length to the _Royal Palace Hotel_, and asked for Beatrice.The latter was in her room, she was told, and Mary went up. But Beatricewas not there, her place for the time being occupied by Adeline, themaid.
"My mistress is out," the maid explained; "but if you will leave anymessage I can deliver it. She will not be very long, in any case."
Mary hesitated. She had many things to do and no time to waste. It wasnot altogether imperative that she should see Beatrice just at themoment. She turned the matter over in her mind before she replied toAdeline's suggestion.
"I rather wanted to see your mistress," she said. "Perhaps I may make itconvenient to return in about half an hour or so. Meanwhile, will youplease give her this letter. Will you be very careful to say that Mrs.Richford is to do nothing till she has seen me? I mean that she is notto take any steps in the matter of the letter till I come back. Will yoube especially careful about that?"
Adeline promised, in a vague kind of way. She did not express the usualcuriosity of her class; her mind seemed to be elsewhere. She showed Maryout with an alacrity that would have aroused her suspicions had she hadless to occupy her mind. But Adeline had affairs of her own to think of.There was a very striking-looking valet on the same floor who had shownhimself not insensible to the girl's attractions. Adeline laid the noteon the table and promptly forgot all about it.
In the full assurance that no harm was possible for the present, Marywent her way. It was getting late in the evening now, and the hotel wasfull of people; a strange excitement seemed to be in the air; outside,the newsboys were particularly busy, and there seemed to be a more thanusually heavy run on their wares.
Surely they were shouting a familiar name, Mary thought. She came out ofher brown study and listened. It was something to do with StephenRichford. Surely there could not be two men of the same name. No; itmust be the same.
"Startling disclosures in the City. Collapse of a great firm. Richford &Co. go down. Warrant out for the arrest of the senior partner. Flight ofStephen Richford."
Mary listened in amazement. Her brother knew a great deal about thisman; he had always been spoken of as a wealthy individual. And here wasBeatrice Darryll's husband a criminal and a fugitive from justice.Nobody appeared to be talking about anything else; the name was on thestreets. Mary could hear it everywhere. A bent man, with a clerical hatand glasses and an Inverness cape, hurried by the girl as she came outof the hotel. Even this elderly gentleman seemed interested.
He pushed his way into the hotel and feebly ascended the stairs as if hehad business there. In so large a place every respectably dressed mancould pass in and out without incurring suspicion. No hall porter wouldstop any visitor and ask his business, so that the elderly clergymanpassed unchallenged. As he came to the door of Beatrice's room hehesitated for a moment, and then passed in and closed the door behindhim.
"Nobody here!" he muttered. "Maid gone off on her own business, Isuppose. Well, I can sit down here and wait till Beatrice comes back.What's this? A letter addressed by some unknown correspondent to Mrs.Richford. By Jove! Sartoris's address on the flap. Now, what does thislittle game mean? And who wrote the letter? My dear Sartoris, if I onlyhad you here for the next five minutes!"
The man's face suddenly convulsed with rage, his fists were clenchedpassionately. He paced up and down the room with the letter in his hand.
"This may tell me something," he said; "this may be a clue. I'll openit."
As frequently happens with thick envelopes, the gum was defective, andthe back of a penknife served to open the cover without in any waybetraying the fact that the cover had been tampered with. A puzzledfrown crossed the face of the thief.
"Berrington!" he muttered; "Berrington! Oh, I know. That beast, eh? Nowconsidering that he is more or less of a prisoner in the house of mydear friend Sartoris, why does he write like this to Beatrice? DamnSartoris; there is no getting to the bottom of him, with his wily brain.On the whole Beatrice shall be allowed to go. It's a horrible positionfor a girl like her; but at the present moment I have no choice--perhapsI'll join the party later on. Hang those newsboys, too--why can't theystop their silly clatter?"
The intruder replaced the letter, and a moment later Beatrice came in.She started at the sight of the stranger, who made some apology for theintrusion. The man looked old and respectable and harmless, so that thegirl smiled at him. But she did not smile when the shovel hat wasremoved, together with the wig and the glasses.
"Stephen!" Beatrice gasped. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Well, I can conclude that my disguise is a pretty good one," Richfordgrinned, "seeing that you did not recognize me at all. And as to whatthis means, I should say that your own common sense would tell you. Didyou hear anything?"
"I heard the boys with the papers," Beatrice said; "but I did notconnect ... do you mean to say that you are, you are----"
Beatrice could not say the word. But there was no reason for her to askthe question.
"Why be so delicate about it in the presence of a mere husband?"Richford sneered. "Do you suppose I came here in disguise just to giveyou a pleasant surprise? The bubble has been pricked, and all the restof it. I went for too much, and I failed, as many a better man hasfailed before me. I have Carl Sartoris to thank for this; I should havepulled through but for him. This is his revenge because I would not doas he desired. Whatever you do, beware of that man! Don't go near himunder any circumstances."
"I am not likely to go near him," Beatrice said coldly; "but tell me,why did you come here? It is not possible that I can help you in anyway!"
"Oh, yes it is," Richford said, with a certain good humour that causedBeatrice to turn suspicious at once. "You can do a great deal for me ifyou only will. I am going to leave you a desolate and disconsolatewidow. A grass widow, if you like; but you will have your freedom. I amgoing to leave my country for my country's good; I shall never come backagain. But the crash has come at a time when I least expected it, whichis a habit that crashes have. I had barely time to procure this disguisebefore the wolves were after me. They are hot on my track now, and Ihave no time to spare. What I come for is money."
"Money! Surely you made a sorry mistake then!"
"Oh, no; I'm not asking for cash, seeing that you have practically noneof your own. As you refuse to consider yourself my wife, in future youmust also decline to take anything from me. Therefore those diamonds arenot your property. If you will hand them over to me, we will shake handsand part for ever."
Beatrice drew a long deep breath of something like relief. It was goodto know that this man was going to rid her of his hateful presence forever, but this was too big a price to pay for her freedom.
"Let us quite understand one another," she said. "Your business isruined; there is nothing left. What about your creditors, the people whotrusted you?"
"Burn and blister my creditors," Richford burst out furiously. "What dothey matter? Of course the fools who trusted me with their money willcry out. But they only trusted it with me, because they thought that Iwas slaving and scheming to pay them big dividends. It will not be thewelfare of my creditors that keeps m
e awake at night."
"Always cold and callous and indifferent to the feelings of others,"Beatrice said. "Not even one single thought for the poor people that youhave ruined. What are those diamonds worth?"
"Well, I gave L40,000 for them. I dare say I can get, say L30,000 forthem. But we are wasting time in idle discourse like this."
"Indeed, we are," Beatrice said coldly. "So you think that in the faceof what you have just told me, I am going to hand those stones over toyou! Nothing of the kind. I shall keep them in trust for your creditors.When the right time comes I shall hand them over to the properauthorities. Nothing will turn me from my decision."
A snarling oath burst from Richford's lips. He stretched out his hand asif he would have fain taken Beatrice by the throat and strangled her.
"Don't fool with me," he said hoarsely; "don't play with me, or I mayforget myself. Give me those diamonds if you have any respect for yourskin."
But Beatrice made not the slightest attempt to move. Her face had grownvery pale, still she was quite resolute.
"If you think to frighten me by threats, you are merely wasting yourtime," she said coldly. "The stones are in safe keeping, and there theyremain till I can give them to your trustees."
"But I am powerless," Richford said. "How am I to get away? In a fewhours all my resources will be exhausted, and I shall fall into thehands of the police. And a nice thing that would be. Your husband afelon, with a long term of imprisonment before him!"
"I see no dissimilarity," Beatrice said, "between the deed and thepunishment that fits it. After all I have gone through, a little thinglike that would make no difference to me."
"Then you are not going to part with those diamonds?"
Beatrice shook her head. Richford stood before her with one of his handson her arm and his other about her white slender throat. There was amurderous look on his face, but the eyes that Beatrice turned upon himdid not for a moment droop. Then Richford pushed the girl away brutallyfrom him and walked as far as the door.
"You don't want for pluck," he growled. "I believe that if you hadflinched just now I should have killed you. And I was going to save youfrom a danger. I shall do nothing of the kind. Go your own way, and Iwill go mine."
Richford glanced at the letter on the table, then he passed out, bangingthe door behind him. In the _foyer_ of the hotel he sat down as ifwaiting for somebody. In reality he was trying to collect his scatteredthoughts. But it was hard work in that chattering, laughing mob, withhis own name on the lips of a hundred people there.