andafterwards gave me his card, expressing a hope that when I returned toVersailles I should manage to meet him again. A sweetheart in secret isalways an attraction to the schoolgirl, and surely I was no exception.With the connivance of three other girls, whom I let into my secret, Icontrived to meet him often in the narrow, unfrequented Allee desSabotiers that runs down to La Croix, and wrote him letters of girlishaffection. This continued for nearly a year, when one evening, about amonth before I left Madame Perrin's for ever, I met him for a fewmoments close behind the school in the Rue du Parc de Clagny, and hesurprised me by remarking that my uncle was Vice-Admiral Hellard, a highofficial at the Admiralty in London, or Second Sea-Lord as he wascalled, I believe. He asked me to do him a great favour when I returnedto London, and take a little present of a dozen Bohemian liqueur glassesto deliver into his, the Admiral's hand, personally. This I, of course,consented to do, and a few weeks later I found him at the Gare du Nordon my departure. Calling me aside, he handed me a little box about afoot long, and six inches deep, whispering that probably the Admiralwould acknowledge the receipt of the gift, and therefore he would be inLondon a week later, meet me, and receive my uncle's reply. But heurged me to give the present into the hands of no person other than theAdmiral himself. He was most particular on that point.
"Well," she continued in a low voice, almost as though she were speakingto herself, "three days later I called at Albert Gate, saw my unclealone, and handed him the little box, which he seemed much surprised atreceiving, and which he took into an adjoining room and opened. When hereturned to me he was greatly excited, and asked me if I was aware whatthe box contained. I told him that they were a set of liqueur glasses.He smiled. Then he asked me who gave it to me, and I told him a younggentleman whom I knew slightly, and that if there was any reply I wouldhand it to him myself. `You shall have the reply for him to-morrow,Sybil,' was the old man's answer. `I can only say that you've broughtme the most valuable present that I've ever received in all my life.'My curiosity was at once aroused, and I asked to see the glasses, but herefused, saying that they did not concern me. Two days later Ireturned, and he handed me a sealed letter addressed to `Ralph Vickers,Esquire,' and--"
"Vickers!" I gasped. "The sleek-haired fellow who was arrested thismorning?"
"The same," she answered hoarsely. "He was the man who met me in Paris,and into whose unscrupulous hands and those of his associates I soinnocently fell. A few days after receiving the note from the Admiral,Vickers was, I found, in London, and late one evening I slipped out ofthe house to the corner of Berkeley Square, and there delivered theAdmiral's reply into his hands. He remained in England, but somehow--why I really can't tell--I began to suspect that his mode of life wasnot altogether honest. Perhaps it was because one day the Admiral, whocame to stay with us at Ryhall, was very inquisitive about him, andadded that he sincerely hoped I had broken off the acquaintanceship. Atany rate, although I sometimes met him I no longer entertained anyaffection for him. My girlish idol was, indeed, broken sadly when justas I made my _debut_ in society he began to write letters compelling meto meet him, and commenced to seek information from me concerning thehabits and movements of certain people whom I met in our set in London.Well," she sighed, "this went on for about a year. I hated him now, forI had detected how false he was. Yet moving with Cynthia in the gay setI saw that I could never afford to allow the fellow to disclose thosefoolish letters I had written to him. At this juncture, while I wasstaying up in Durham, came a note which placed Ralph Vickers in his truelight--that of a blackguard. In guarded language he explained that hehad, previous to making my acquaintance, done three years in prison, andthat as he was now without funds I must obtain money for him--indeed,pay him in order to keep the secret of those letters--the secret that Ihad loved a gaol-bird! In reply, however, I openly defied him. Inresponse he came up to Durham, and I was compelled to meet him insecret. The object of his visit was truly a brutal one. Finding that Iresisted his demands, he revealed to me the contents of that box which Ihad conveyed to my uncle. It had contained a French naval secret--acopy of the secret plans and specifications of the new French submarineboat then being built at Brest, for which the British Admiralty had paidhim three thousand pounds, a draft for this amount being contained in myuncle's sealed letter. He had, he acknowledged, obtained the plans froma French naval lieutenant, and the pair had divided the proceeds. Hewas a spy, as well as a blackmailer. I asked what this had to do withme, whereupon he revealed to me an appalling fact, which utterly stunnedme. Till then, I was in total ignorance of how entirely and completelyI had fallen beneath his unscrupulous influence. But when he explainedI saw in an instant that my future was hopeless; that escape wasimpossible. I was bound irrevocably to him and to his blackguardlyaccomplices."
"And what did he reveal?" I inquired anxiously, as her terrified eyesmet mine.
"He pointed out, with brutal frankness, that although in England theFrench law could not reach him, yet in my own case it was different.The French Government could apply for my arrest and extradition forselling a State secret, because, in the eyes of the French law, I was aFrench subject, I having been born at my father's villa at Cannes, andhad never taken out letters of naturalisation as a British subject. Isaw his intention. If unable to raise money to supply his needs hewould give information against me in Paris, and cause my arrest. Hefeared nothing for himself, he said, as he was a British-born subject.I alone would suffer. What could I do in face of such a terribleeventuality? He pointed out that although a person born of Britishparents abroad is under English law British, yet if wanted for a crimecommitted in the country of birth, the person may be arrested andextradited. I heard him to the end, and saw that I was helpless in hishands. He had entrapped me, and I was as a fly in a spider's web. Isaw my peril; therefore, in order to avoid scandal and arrest I wascompelled to send him money from time to time. Moreover, he alsocompelled me to furnish secret information about persons whom I met insociety, for what purpose I could only guess--blackmail. Gradually, Ithus became a tool of Vickers and those fiends whom I felt were inassociation with him, although for some time the latter never betrayedthemselves. This went on for nearly a couple of years until ElliceWinsloe proposed marriage to me. I was driven desperate, always wantingto reveal to you the truth and ask your advice, Wilfrid, and yet alwaysin fear lest you should turn your back upon me as an associate of a gangof blackmailers. One autumn day, while motoring with Cynthia fromLondon up to visit the Beebys at Grantham, and without a chauffeur, Ihad a tyre-burst near a place called Stretton, on the Great North Road,and a young man passing on a bicycle very kindly offered to change thecover for me. He was a rather good-looking young fellow and evidently agentleman. A week later we met again at a party at Belton, when Idiscovered that his name was Arthur Rumbold, and that he was son ofCanon Rumbold, of Lincoln, who held the living of Folkingham. He was amedical student at Guy's, and home for the vacation. We met again andaccidentally, at a dance in town; and although I am no more of a flirtthan other girls, I confess that he attracted me. In fact, after acouple of months he fell desperately in love with me, when suddenly Idiscovered a most amazing and alarming fact, namely, that he actuallyoccupied furnished rooms in the same house in Vincent Square,Westminster, where lodged Ralph Vickers. He knew the fellow well, hesaid, but was unaware, of course, of how he lived.
"Meanwhile," she went on, her face slightly flushed by the effort ofspeaking, "Vickers was constantly pressing me for more money,threatening that if he did not get it he would hand me over to theFrench police. I was desperate, and at last one dark winter's night,when walking with Arthur in one of the quiet streets in Kensington wherewe would not be recognised, I made a clean breast of my girlishfoolishness and my present difficulties. He promised to at once helpme, but it was three weeks afterwards when he wrote to me while I was atRyhall, saying that he had searched the rooms of his fellow-lodger, hadfound my letters, and was bringing them to me. He had, he said,secretl
y watched Vickers, and found that he was in association withParham, Winsloe and Domville in a great ruthless conspiracy ofblackmail, and further that he had seen persons enter the house inClipstone Street and never emerge again! Think of the effect thisamazing statement had upon me. Winsloe and Domville were our guests atthat moment, and the last-named was your most intimate friend. Threedays previously I had received a letter from Vickers demanding that Ishould meet him in secret in the park, and I had replied making anevening appointment. Then, to Arthur I replied that I would meet him inthe afternoon in Charlton Wood, a lonely spot where we had met before,telling him to bring the letters, and to explain everything to me.Well," she said hoarsely, after a pause, "we met. He told me of hissuspicion of that house in Clipstone