hadcontemplated suicide.
"Now, speaking candidly, Graham, have you any doubt that it is Douglas?"
"None."
"Why?"
"Well--for the simple reason that I believe he is dead."
"That's an evasive answer. Tell me the reason."
"Unfortunately, I cannot divulge secrets entrusted to me, Mr. Hugh. Youmay, however, at once rest assured that I am absolutely ignorant both ofthe motive of the terrible crime and the existence of any one likely tocommit it. If I possessed any such knowledge, of course, I shouldcommunicate with the police without delay," the old gentleman saidcalmly.
"Then you refuse to state your reasons?" exclaimed Trethowen, a trifleannoyed.
"I do, most decidedly. All I can tell you is that I knew your brotherhad returned from abroad; and, as a matter of fact, he wrote making anappointment to meet me yesterday, but did not keep it."
"From that you conclude he is dead?"
"Combined with various other circumstances."
"Well, Graham, it's hardly satisfactory, you'll admit," observed Hugh.And then he added: "Of course, if you refuse to tell me anything else, Ican do nothing."
"Excuse me, Mr. Hugh," answered the solicitor blandly. "You can go tothe mortuary at once and identify the body."
"If I fail, what then?"
"I don't think you will fail," replied Graham, with a meaning smile.
"You'll come and assist me?"
"I shall be very pleased to accompany you, but must claim yourindulgence for a few moments while I put away these papers;" and hecommenced gathering up the scattered documents and replacing them in thebox.
When he had finished he locked it carefully, and then, struggling intohis overcoat, and putting on his hat, he followed Hugh Trethowen out.
An hour later they returned and reseated themselves. "The whole affairis so enshrouded in mystery that I doubt very much whether the murdererwill ever be discovered," Graham remarked, taking up some letters thathad been placed upon his table during his absence.
"I agree with you. It's a most remarkable crime."
"But, after all, what's the use of puzzling one's brain?" the solicitorasked. "You inherit the estate, with an income that should keep you inluxury for the remainder of your days, therefore why trouble about it?"
"That is so; but supposing Douglas is still alive--I only saysupposing--now what would be the result?" Graham shrugged hisshoulders, and his visage elongated.
"It's no use apprehending such a _denouement_. You are absolutelycertain that the body is his, are you not?" he asked.
"I'm positive of it. The curious deformity of the ear I remember quitedistinctly."
"Then you will swear before the coroner to-morrow that he is yourbrother?" he observed, regarding the young man keenly.
"I shall."
"In that case no more need be said. We shall immediately proceed toprove the will, and you will be master of Coombe."
"Indeed," exclaimed Hugh, with a light laugh, as he rose to depart."I'm in luck's way to-day. A few hours ago I little thought myself sonear being a wealthy man."
"No; it must be a very pleasant surprise," the old gentleman said,rising and grasping his new client's hand. "I heartily congratulate youon your good fortune, Mr. Hugh. I shall call upon you at noonto-morrow, and we will attend the inquest together. Your interests willbe safe in my hands, so for the present good-bye."
"Good-day, Graham. I'll expect you to-morrow," Hugh replied, and,lighting a cigar, he went out.
CHAPTER SIX.
VALERIE DEDIEU.
"Look! there she goes! Isn't she lovely? By Jove, she's the mostcharming woman I've ever met!"
"The less of her sort there are about, the better for society at large,old fellow."
"What? You know her?"
"Yes. Unfortunately."
"Oh, of course. Some frivolous tale; but I'll not hear a word of it.Some people are never satisfied unless they are polluting a fair name,or washing their neighbour's dirty linen."
"That's meant to be personal, I suppose?"
"As you please."
"And where did you make her acquaintance, pray?"
"Quite casually; a week ago."
"And you've taken her for three drives, and walked on the promenade withher?"
"If I have, what crime have I committed beyond arousing your jealousy?"
"I'm not jealous in the least, I assure you, old chap," replied JackEgerton, smiling. "But the fact is, Hugh, I've always considered you aman, and never believed that you could develop into a brainless,lovesick swain. Yet it appears you have. We've known each other longenough to speak plainly, and if you take my advice you'll steer clear ofher."
"Why do you give me this mysterious warning, old chap?"
"She's bewitching, I admit: but a pretty face is not all that isdesirable in a woman. If you're on the lookout for a suitable partner--and it seems you are--I advise you not to make her your wife, or you'llrepent it. Besides, a rich man like yourself can choose from among theyounger and possibly better-looking bargains offered by anxious butimpecunious mothers."
"Oh yes; I know all about that," replied Hugh impatiently. "I shallnever take any advice upon matrimony, so you are only wasting breath.The man who frowns at coquetry is often willing enough to wink at thecoquette. I'm master of my own actions, and were we not old friends,Jack, I should consider this abominable impertinence on your part."
"But, my dear fellow, it is in your own interests that--"
"Bother my interests! Have another cigar and shut up!"
"Very well, as you please."
The two men, who were thus discussing the merits of a female form whichhad just passed, were seated at an open window at the Queen's Hotel, atEastbourne. It was an August morning, warm, with scarcely a breath ofwind. The cerulean sky reflected upon the clear sea, glassy and calm inthe sunlight, while the white sails of the yachts and the distantoutlines of larger vessels relieved the monotonous expanse of blue, andadded effect and harmony to the scene.
A fashionable crowd of loungers were passing and reusing the window,keeping under the shadow of the uses: for the fair ones who frequentseaside resorts, presumably for health, never desire their faces tanned.Now that the legal formalities had been accomplished, and HughTrethowen found himself with a comfortable competence, he, no longerworld-weary, had recommenced a life of enjoyment. It was a pleasantreflection to know that his creditors had been paid in full, that he hadrepaid the thousand pounds he had obtained dishonourably, that he was nolonger likely to be troubled by duns, and that his trusted servant Jacobhad been reinstalled master of his chambers. He had spent a few weeksat Coombe, and formally taken possession of the home of his youth; thenhe returned and went to Eastbourne, having induced Egerton to put asidework and spend a short holiday with him.
After this discussion regarding the lady, he sat back in his chair, witha cigar in his mouth, looking unutterably bored. Truth to tell, he wasa little out of temper; the weather was oppressive, and he hateddiscussions, as he always argued that life was too short, and breath tooprecious, to waste on trying to convince any one against his will.
As he sat there he gazed out upon the expanse of blue, and lapsed intosilent contemplation.
The object of his admiration, who had just passed their window, wasdressed with elegance and taste in a dainty pearl-grey creation ofWorth's, a hat of the latest French mode, the whole being surmounted bya cool-looking lace sunshade, the tint of which served to enhance herextraordinary beauty.
She was one of those women frequently met with in Society, whose past isenveloped in a mist of uncertainty, yet they cannot be termedadventuresses, for their adventures, as far as known, are nothingextraordinary, and _les conveyances_ have always been respected andrigorously preserved. Men liked her because her foreign accent andgesture added a vivacious piquancy to her manner, and women toleratedher because she was affable, fashionable, and _chic_. Scandaloustongues had certainly done their utmos
t to injure her reputation, buthad failed. She numbered many smart people among her friends, but noteven her enemies could accuse her of vulgarity or indiscretion. Allthat was known was that she possessed ample means, moved in a good set,and was a conspicuous figure wherever the _haut monde_ poured forth herchildren--at Trouville, Royat, Brighton, on the _plage_ at Arcachon, orthe Promenade des Anglais at Nice, according to the season and fashion.
"Let's go for a stroll, old fellow," suggested Hugh, rising, and tossinghis cigar out of the window.
"I've some letters to write."
"Oh, let them wait. Come along."
Egerton's features were clouded by a frown of displeasure. He yawnedwearily, but rose and accompanied his friend.
They strolled along the parade, and back, and then out to the end of thepier. Trethowen's eager eyes soon descried the object of hisadmiration, seated alone under the shadow of the pavilion, apparentlyengrossed in a novel. She looked up in surprise at their approach, andafter mutual greetings they seated themselves beside her.
Valerie Dedieu, whose features were flushed--for she had been startledby their sudden appearance--was certainly remarkably pretty. She wasgentle and winning, with a well-formed head, and a tall, graceful figurethat any woman might have envied. Her large, expressive dark eyes,protected by their fringe of long lashes, had that look, at oncestubborn and gentle, provocative and modest, wanton and ardent, of theFrenchwoman. The expression of her face was ever changing; now hereyes, cast down demurely, seemed to indicate a coy modesty; now herpouting lip betrayed a slight annoyance, only to be succeeded by acharming smile which disclosed an even row of pearly teeth.
As Hugh gazed upon her he remembered his friend's mysterious warning,and asked himself what evil could lurk under so innocent a countenance.
"I had no idea you were acquainted with M'sieur Egerton," she exclaimed,suddenly turning to him.
"Oh yes; we are old friends," Hugh replied, smiling.
"Ah! what an age it is since we met," she said, addressing the artist,her words just tinged with an accent that added charm to her musicalvoice.
"It is, mademoiselle," he answered, somewhat sullenly; "I scarcelyexpected to come across you here."
She darted a sharp, inquiring glance at him, and frowned, almostimperceptibly. Next second she recovered her self-possession, and witha light laugh said: "Well, there seems some truth in the assertion thatthe world is very small after all."
"There does, and encounters are sometimes unpleasant for both parties,"he remarked abruptly. "But you'll excuse me, won't you? I see a manover there that I know, and want to speak to him."
Valerie gracefully inclined her head, and Egerton, rising, lounged overto the man he had recognised.
The moment he was out of hearing, she turned to Trethowen, and said:
"Then you and Jack Egerton are friends?"
"Yes; I find him a very agreeable and good hearted fellow."
"That may be." She hesitated thoughtfully; then she added: "You do notknow him as well as I do."
"And what is your objection to him?" asked he in surprise.
"Hugh, yesterday you told me you loved me," she said, looking seriouslyinto his face.
"Yes, dearest, I did. I meant it."
"Then; as I explained to you, I have many enemies as well as friends.Jack Egerton is one of the former, and will do all in his power to partus when he finds out our affection is mutual. Now you understand myantipathy."
"Clearly," he replied, puzzled. "But I know Jack too well; he would notbe guilty of an underhand action."
"Do not trust him, but promise me _one thing_."
"Of course, I'll promise you anything to make you happy. What is it?"
"That you will take no heed of any allegations he may make against me."
She was intensely in earnest, and gazed at him with eyes that wereentirely human in their quick sympathy, their gentleness--in theirappeal to the world for a favouring word.
"Rest assured, nothing he may say will ever turn me from you, Valerie."
She heaved a sigh of relief when he gave his answer.
"Somehow or other I am always being scandalised," she exclaimedbitterly. "I have done nothing of which I am ashamed, yet my selectcircle of enemies seem to conspire to cause the world to deride me.Because I am unmarried, and do not believe in burying myself, theyendeavour to besmirch my fair name."
She spoke with a touch of emotion, which she ineffectually tried tohide.
Then, as Hugh addressed her in a tone in which respect melted into love,she quivered at the simple words in which he poured forth his wholesoul:
"I love you. Why need you fear?"
He uttered these words with a slight pressure of the hand, and a lookwhich sank deep into her heart.
Then they exchanged a few tremulous words--those treasured speecheswhich, monotonous as they seem, are as music in the ears of lovers. Theartist and his friend were by this time out of sight, and they were leftto themselves to enjoy those brief half-hours of happiness which seldomreturn, which combine the sadness of parting with the radiant hopes of abrighter day, and which we all of us grasp with sweet, trembling joy, aswe stand on the threshold of a new life.
And Valerie--forgetting everything, absorbed in a dream which was now atangible reality--sat silent, with moist and downcast eyes. Hughcontinued to smile, and murmured again and again in her ear:
"I love you."
The pier was almost deserted, and, heedless of the rest of the world,they sat enraptured by love, lulled by the soft splashing of the sea,and bathed in the glorious golden sunshine.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
AUT TACE, AUT PACE.
On the following afternoon there was held in the Floral Hall of theDevonshire Park one of those brilliant orchestral performances whichalways attract the fashionable portion of Eastbourne visitors. Theconcerts, held several times each week, are extensively patronised bythe cultured, and even the crotchety, who hate music, and regard Mozartand Mendelssohn as inflictions, look upon them as a pleasant means ofidling away an hour. This afternoon, however, was devoted to operaticselections, and the hall was filled with a gay throng.
Trethowen had gone over to Hastings to visit some friends, and Egerton,who found time hanging heavily upon his hands, strolled in to hear themusic. As he entered, the first object which met his eye was Valerie,who, dressed with becoming taste and elegance, was sitting alone,casting furtive glances towards the door, as if expecting someone.
After a moment's hesitation he walked over to where she sat, andgreeting her briefly with a pleasant smile, took a chair beside her.
"Where is your friend?" she asked abruptly.
"He went to Hastings this morning."
"When will he return?"
"I'm sure I don't know," replied the artist carelessly.
"I suppose the attraction of your fascinating self will not allow him toremain absent long. Am I to--er--congratulate you?"
Her dark eyes flashed angrily, as she exclaimed in a low, fierce tone:
"You've tricked me! You've told him!"
"And if I have, surely it is no reason why you should make an exhibitionof your confounded bad temper in a public place. If you wish to talk,come into the grounds," he said in a tone of annoyance.
"Yes; let's go. I've something to say."
The conductor's baton was tapping the desk as they rose and passed outupon the pleasant lawn beyond. Walking a short distance, they seatedthemselves under the shadow of a tree, in a nook where there were noeavesdroppers.
"Well, Valerie, what have you to say to me? I'm all attention," saidEgerton, assuming an amused air, and calmly lighting a cigarette.
"_Diable_! You try to hide the truth from me," she said, her accentbeing more pronounced with her anger. "You have warned Hugh; you havetold him to beware of me--that my touch pollutes, and my kisses arevenomous. Remember what you and I were once to each other--and you, ofall men, try to ruin my reputation! Fortunately, I am
well able todefend it."
"Your reputation--bah!"
"Yes, m'sieur, you may sneer; but I tell you, we are not so unequallymatched as you imagine. If you have breathed one word to Hugh of mypast, I can very easily prove to him that you have lied; and, further,you appear to forget that certain information that I could give wouldplace you in a very ugly predicament."
"Oh! you threaten, do you?"
"Only in the event of your being such an imbecile as to reveal to Hughthe secret."
"Then, I may as well tell you that up to the present he knows nothing.Yet, remember, he and I are old friends, therefore it will be myendeavour to prevent him falling into your accursed toils, as othershave!" he exclaimed angrily.
"Cursed toils, indeed!" she echoed, with a contemptuous toss of herpretty head. "The idea of a man like you setting himself up as HughTrethowen's protector! It's too absurd. I wonder whether you wouldstill be friends were he to know the truth about you, eh?"
"It matters little," he answered sternly. "You'll keep your mouthclosed for your own sake."
"What have I to fear, pray?" she asked impatiently. "It seems you thinkme a weak, impressionable schoolgirl, who will tremble under yourmenaces. Why, the worst accusation you can make, is that