The Seraph had ridden back from Iffesheim to the Bad in company withsome Austrian officers, and one or two of his own comrades. He had leftthe Course late, staying to exhaust every possible means of inquiry asto the failure of Forest King, and to discuss with other members of theNewmarket and foreign jockey clubs the best methods--if method therewere--of discovering what foul play had been on foot with the horse.That there was some, and very foul too, the testimony of men and angelswould not have dissuaded the Seraph; and the event had left him mostunusually grave and regretful.
The amount he had lost himself, in consequence, was of not the slightestmoment to him, although he was extravagant enough to run almost to theend even of his own princely tether in money matters; but that "Beauty"should be cut down was more vexatious to him than any evil accident thatcould have befallen himself, and he guessed pretty nearly the terribleinfluence the dead failure would have on his friend's position.
True, he had never heard Cecil breathe a syllable that hinted atembarrassment; but these things get known with tolerable accuracy abouttown, and those who were acquainted, as most people in their set were,with the impoverished condition of the Royallieu exchequer, howeverhidden it might be under an unabated magnificence of living, were wellaware also that none of the old Viscount's sons could have any saferesources to guarantee them from as rapid a ruin as they liked toconsummate. Indeed, it had of late been whispered that it was probable,despite the provisions of the entail, that all the green wealth andNorman Beauty of Royallieu itself would come into the market. Hence theSeraph, the best-hearted and most generous-natured of men, was worriedby an anxiety and a despondency which he would never have indulged, mostassuredly, on his own account, as he rode away from Iffesheim after thedefeat of his Corps' champion.
He was expected to dinner with one of the most lovely of foreignAmbassadresses, and was to go with her afterward to the Vaudeville, atthe pretty golden theater, where a troupe from the Bouffes were playing;but he felt anything but in the mood for even her bewitching and--inan marriageable sense--safe society, as he stopped his horse at his ownhotel, the Badischer Hof.
As he swung himself out of saddle, a well-dressed, quiet, ratherhandsome little man drew near respectfully, lifting his hat--it was M.Baroni. The Seraph had never seen the man in his life that he knew of,but he was himself naturally frank, affable, courteous, and never givento hedging himself behind the pale of his high rank; provided you didnot bore him, you might always get access to him easily enough--the Dukeused to tell him, too easily.
Therefore, when Ezra Baroni deferentially approached with, "The MostNoble the Marquis of Rockingham, I think?" the Seraph, instead ofleaving the stranger there discomfited, nodded and paused with hisinconsequent good nature; thinking how much less bosh it would be ifeverybody could call him, like his family and his comrades, "Rock."
"That is my name," he answered. "I do not know you. Do you want anythingof me?"
The Seraph had a vivid terror of people who "wanted him," in thesubscription, not the police, sense of the word; and had been the victimof frauds innumerable.
"I wished," returned Baroni respectfully, but with sufficientindependence to conciliate his auditor, whom he saw at a glance cringingsubservience would disgust, "to have the opportunity of asking yourlordship a very simple question."
The Seraph looked a little bored, a little amused.
"Well, ask it, my good fellow; you have your opportunity!" he saidimpatiently, yet good-humored still.
"Then would you, my lord," continued the Jew with his strongHebrew-German accent, "be so good as to favor me by saying whether thissignature be your own?"
The Jew held before him a folded paper, so folded that one line only wasvisible, across which was dashed in bold characters, "Rockingham."
The Seraph put up his eye-glass, stopped, and took a steadfast look;then shook his head.
"No; that is not mine; at least, I think not. Never made my R half aquarter so well in my life."
"Many thanks, my lord," said Baroni quietly. "One question more and wecan substantiate the fact. Did your lordship indorse any bill on the15th of last month?"
The Seraph looked surprised, and reflected a moment. "No, I didn't," hesaid after a pause. "I have done it for men, but not on that day; I wasshooting at Hornsey Wood most of it, if I remember right. Why do youask?"
"I will tell you, my lord, if you grant me a private interview."
The Seraph moved away. "Never do that," he said briefly; "privateinterviews," thought he, acting on past experience, "with women alwaysmean proposals, and with men always mean extortion."
Baroni made a quick movement toward him.
"An instant, my lord! This intimately concerns yourself. The steps of anhotel are surely not the place in which to speak of it?"
"I wish to hear nothing about it," replied Rock, putting him aside;while he thought to himself regretfully, "That is 'stiff,' that bitof paper; perhaps some poor wretch is in a scrape. I wish I hadn't sowholly denied my signature. If the mischief's done, there's no good inbothering the fellow."
The Seraph's good nature was apt to overlook such trifles as the Law.
Baroni kept pace with him as he approached the hotel door, and spokevery low.
"My lord, if you do not listen, worse may befall the reputation both ofyour regiment and your friends."
The Seraph swung round; his careless, handsome face set stern in aninstant; his blue eyes grave, and gathering an ominous fire.
"Step yonder," he said curtly, signing the Hebrew toward the grandstaircase. "Show that person to my rooms, Alexis."
But for the publicity of the entrance of the Badischer Hof the mightyright arm of the Guardsman might have terminated the interview thenand there, in different fashion. Baroni had gained his point, andwas ushered into the fine chambers set apart for the future Duke ofLyonnesse. The Seraph strode after him, and as the attendant closedthe door and left them alone in the first of the great lofty suite, allglittering with gilding, and ormolu, and malachite, and rose velvet, andParisian taste, stood like a tower above the Jew's small, slight form;while his words came curtly, and only by a fierce effort through hislips.
"Substantiate what you dare to say, or my grooms shall throw you out ofthat window! Now!"
Baroni looked up, unmoved; the calm, steady, undisturbed glance sent achill over the Seraph; he thought if this man came but for purposes ofextortion, and were not fully sure that he could make good what he said,this was not the look he would give.
"I desire nothing better, my lord," said Baroni quietly, "though Igreatly regret to be the messenger of such an errand. This bill, whichin a moment I will have the honor of showing you, was transacted by myhouse (I am one of the partners of a London discounting firm), indorsedthus by your celebrated name. Moneys were lent on it, the bill was madepayable at two months' date; it was understood that you accepted it;there could be no risk with such a signature as yours. The bill wasnegotiated; I was in Leyden, Lubeck, and other places at the period; Iheard nothing of the matter. When I returned to London, a little lessthan a week ago, I saw the signature for the first time. I was at onceaware that it was not yours, for I had some paid bills, signed by you,at hand, with which I compared it. Of course, my only remedy was to seekyou out, although I was nearly certain, before your present denial, thatthe bill was a forgery."
He spoke quite tranquilly still, with a perfectly respectful regret,but with the air of a man who has his title to be heard, and is actingsimply in hie own clear right. The Seraph listened, restless, impatient,sorely tried to keep in the passion which had been awakened by the hintthat this wretched matter could concern or attaint the honor of hiscorps.
"Well! speak out!" he said impatiently. "Details are nothing. Who drewit? Who forged my name, if it be forged? Quick! give me the paper."
"With every trust and every deference, my lord, I cannot let the billpass out of my own hands until this unfortunate matter be cleared up--ifcleared up it can be. Your lordship shall see
the bill, however, ofcourse, spread here upon the table; but first, let me warn you, my LordMarquis, that the sight will be intensely painful to you.
"Very painful, my lord," added Baroni impressively. "Prepare yourselffor--"
Rock dashed his hand down on the marble table with a force that made thelusters and statuettes on it ring and tremble.
"No more words! Lay the bill there."
Baroni bowed and smoothed out upon the console the crumpled document,holding it with one hand, yet leaving visible with the counterfeitedsignature one other, the name of the forger in whose favor the bill wasdrawn; that other signature was--"Bertie Cecil."
"I deeply regret to deal you such a blow from such a friend, my lord,"said the Jew softly. The Seraph stooped and gazed--one instant ofhorrified amazement kept him dumb there, staring at the written paper asat some ghastly thing; then all the hot blood rushed over his fair,bold face; he flung himself on the Hebrew, and, ere the other could havebreath or warning, tossed him upward to the painted ceiling and hurledhim down again upon the velvet carpet, as lightly as a retriever willcatch up and let fall a wild duck or a grouse, and stood over Baroniwhere he lay.
"You hound!"
Baroni, lying passive and breathless with the violence of the shock andthe surprise, yet kept, even amid the hurricane of wrath that had tossedhim upward and downward as the winds toss leaves, his hold upon thedocument, and his clear, cool, ready self-possession.
"My lord," he said faintly, "I do not wonder at your excitement,aggressive as it renders you; but I cannot admit that false which I knowto be a for--"
"Silence! Say that word once more, and I shall forget myself and hurlyou out into the street like the dog of a Jew you are!"
"Have patience an instant, my lord. Will it profit your friend andbrother-in-arms if it be afterward said that when this charge wasbrought against him, you, my Lord Rockingham, had so little faith in hispower to refute it that you bore down with all your mighty strength in apersonal assault upon one so weakly as myself, and sought to put an endto the evidence against him by bodily threats against my safety, andby--what will look legally, my lord, like--an attempt to coerce me intosilence and to obtain the paper from my hands by violence?"
Faint and hoarse the words were, but they were spoken with quietconfidence, with admirable acumen; they were the very words to lashthe passions of his listener into unendurable fire, yet to chain thempowerless down; the Guardsman stood above him, his features flushed anddark with rage, his eyes literally blazing with fury, his lips workingunder his tawny, leonine beard. At every syllable he could have thrownhimself afresh upon the Jew and flung him out of his presence as so muchcarrion; yet the impotence that truth so often feels, caught and meshedin the coils of subtlety--the desperate disadvantage at which Rightis so often placed, when met by the cunning science and sophistry ofWrong--held the Seraph in their net now. He saw his own rashness, he sawhow his actions could be construed till they cast a slur even on the manhe defended; he saw how legally he was in error, how legally thegallant vengeance of an indignant friendship might be construed intoconsciousness of guilt in the accused for whose sake the vengeance fell.
He stood silent, overwhelmed with the intensity of his own passion,baffled by the ingenuity of a serpent-wisdom he could not refute.
Ezra Baroni saw his advantage. He ventured to raise himself slightly.
"My lord, since your faith in your friend is so perfect, send for him.If he be innocent, and I a liar, with a look I shall be confounded."
The tone was perfectly impassive, but the words expressed a world. Fora moment the Seraph's eyes flashed on him with a look that made himfeel nearer his death than he had been near to it in all his days; butRockingham restrained himself from force.
"I will send for him," he said briefly; in that answer there was more ofmenace and of meaning than in any physical action.
He moved and let Baroni rise; shaken and bruised, but otherwise littleseriously hurt, and still holding, in a tenacious grasp, the crumpledpaper. He rang; his own servant answered the summons.
"Go to the Stephanien and inquire for Mr. Cecil. Be quick; and requesthim, wherever he be, to be so good as to come to me instantly--here."
The servant bowed and withdrew; a perfect silence followed between thesetwo so strangely assorted companions; the Seraph stood with his backagainst the mantelpiece, with every sense on the watch to catch everymovement of the Jew's, and to hear the first sound of Cecil's approach.The minutes dragged on; the Seraph was in an agony of probation andimpatience. Once the attendants entered to light the chandeliers andcandelabra; the full light fell on the dark, slight form of the Hebrew,and on the superb attitude and the fair, frank, proud face of thestanding Guardsman; neither moved--once more they were left alone.
The moments ticked slowly away one by one, audible in the silence. Nowand then the quarter chimed from the clock; it was the only sound in thechamber.