The Temptress Part 41

"Yes."

"Hurrah!" she cried, almost dancing for joy; "now we are safely rid of him we shall have nothing to fear. But, tell me, how did you manage to carry out the suggestion?"

"It was quite simple. We met in London three weeks ago, and I told him that he was running a great risk in remaining there, because the girl Vivian had discovered that it was he who gave her the little gash in the throat, and that she had placed the matter in the hands of the police.

He asked my advice as to where he should go, and, of course, I suggested Paris. We arranged to go over separately, and meet at the old place a week later. He went, and as he stepped from the train at the St. Lazare he fell into the inviting arms of that vulture Chemerault."

"You had previously given information, I suppose?"

"Exactly."

"What was the charge?" she asked in a low tone.

"Complicity in the affair of the Englishman."

"Is he already sentenced?"

"Yes; to-day the a.s.size Court sent him to penal servitude for ten years.

I had a telegram an hour ago. It will be in the papers to-morrow."

"Do you think that he'll peach upon us?" Valerie asked seriously.

"No, never fear that. He does not suspect that we put the police upon him; besides, he will live in the hope of escaping, and returning to you and your newly-acquired wealth."

"Yes, I suppose he will," she said, laughing. "But you've managed the affair very cleverly, and although it is hard to send such a boon companion to prison merely because you and I love one another, yet, after all, I suppose it's the best course."

"Undoubtedly, _ma chere_," he said. "Now both are safely in prison, we need fear nothing. Our manoeuvres have been successful in obtaining for us a fortune ample for our needs, and by keeping on this house, as well as yours in the Avenue de la Toison d'Or, we can continue to amuse ourselves profitably by getting our guests to stake their louis on the _tapis vert_. We have had many obstacles to face, but they are now all removed."

"Where is your wedding-ring--the one he gave you?" he asked.

She drew it from her purse, and handed it to him, wondering why he required it.

"This reminds you of him, I know," he said, as he turned and threw up the window. "See, I fling it away, for it's merely a worthless bond,"

and he tossed the ring as far as he could out into the road.

Valerie sighed. A tear stood in her eye. Even at that moment she was thinking of Hugh Trethowen. It was unusual for her to be troubled by recurring pangs of conscience, nevertheless his face had haunted her constantly during the past few months, and she could not get rid of the thought that some day a terrible Nemesis might fall and crush her.

"Why look so serious?"

"I was only thinking. It is one of woman's privileges," she said, laughing.

"Come, there is no cause for sadness surely. You have a handsome income. What more could you desire?"

Soon afterwards the unsuspecting guests departed, with aching heads and empty pockets. And Valerie was left alone.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

AND YOU--A CLERGYMAN.

"Where is Mr. Holt? I must see him at once."

"He's in the vestry, miss, talking to a gentleman. But he'll be disengaged in a moment," the verger replied.

"Very well. I'll wait."

The girl who had listened with disgust to the Sunday morning sermon preached by the Rev. Hubert Holt, and who had afterwards gone round to the vestry of the church of St. Barnabas, Camberwell, was Dolly Vivian.

A few days previously, while walking along Buckingham Palace Road, she unexpectedly pa.s.sed the man who called himself Mansell. Attired as he was in the garb of a clergyman, she was not quite certain as to his ident.i.ty with the man who had a.s.sisted in her abduction. Yet, with justifiable curiosity, she turned and set herself to watch him. For hours she dogged his footsteps, always at a respectable distance. First he went up Victoria Street, and along the Embankment to the City, then he crossed London Bridge and continued through the Borough and Walworth Road, ultimately entering one of a terrace of smoke-begrimed houses in Boyson Road, Camberwell. Once or twice while following him she contrived to obtain an uninterrupted view of his features, and each time felt more convinced that he was the man for whom she was in search.

When he had disappeared she returned, and noticed upon the railing outside the house was a small, tarnished bra.s.s plate bearing the name, "Rev. Hubert Holt." Carefully noting the number, she proceeded to make diligent inquiries, and was not long in discovering that Holt and Mansell was one and the same person, and that he was curate of St.

Barnabas church, which was situated at the end of the road.

At first she was prompted to call upon him at once and denounce him; but on reflection she saw that such a course might not effect the object she had in view. She regarded him as a scoundrel, and in consequence carefully prepared a tableau by which she could obtain the information she sought, and if possible, compa.s.s his ruin. The vindictive nature latent in every woman was aroused in her when she discovered his hypocrisy, and she saw that if she met him face to face in the midst of his holy duties her revenge could be rendered more complete.

As she stood awaiting the interview her cheeks were flushed by excitement, and she nervously toyed with the b.u.t.tons of her gloves. Her lips were compressed, her fair forehead was furrowed by an unbecoming frown of resolution, for she had resolved to meet him boldly, and show him no mercy.

"What name shall I tell Mr. Holt, miss?" the verger asked, re-entering the small, bare anteroom a moment later.

"Never mind," she replied. "He--he doesn't know my name." Then the verger went out.

While she was uttering these words the curate's visitor--a tall, military-looking old gentleman--emerged from the vestry, leaving the door ajar.

Dolly pushed the door open and walked in, closing the door after her.

Holt was still in his surplice, standing beside the small writing-table.

He looked up as the intruder entered. The colour left his face, and he drew back in dismay when he recognised her.

"You!" he stammered. "I--I did not know you were here!"

"Yes," replied she sternly. "I'm not a welcome visitor, am I?

Nevertheless, now I've found you, we have an account to settle."

He did not reply; but, the subject being distasteful to him, he walked quickly round the table and opened the door, which led into the church.

She saw that his intention was to escape.

"Shut that door, if you don't wish our conversation to be overheard,"

she said, pale and determined. "Re member, you are in my hands, my reverend murderer!" Starting at the word "murderer," he closed the door slowly, and stood with his back against it, and head bowed before her.

"Now," she said, advancing towards him, "first of all, I want to know what harm I have ever done you that you should drug me, and then attempt to kill me." The pointed question was asked in a tone that was the reverse of rea.s.suring.

"I did not."

"To deny it is useless," she declared vehemently. "I have ample proof of your villainy; moreover, I intend that you shall be justly punished."

"Why, what do you mean to do?" he cried in alarm. He had been cleverly entrapped, and saw no means of escape from his irate victim.

"What I do depends entirely upon your att.i.tude towards me," answered she in a calm tone. "Like a foolish girl, I trusted implicitly to your honour, and you--a clergyman--tried to kill me."

"I did not do it--indeed I did not."