Elster's Folly Part 45

"We have it to ourselves, Carr, and I am not sorry. There was no certainty about my wife's return, so I thought we'd dine alone."

They very much enjoyed their tete-a-tete dinner; as they had enjoyed many a one in Hartledon's bachelor days. Thomas Carr--one of the quiet, good men in a fast world--was an admirable companion, full of intelligence and conversation. Hedges left them alone after the cloth was removed, but in a very few minutes returned; his step rather more subdued than usual, as if he came upon some secret mission.

"Here's that stranger come again, sir," he began, in low tones; and it may as well be remarked that in moments of forgetfulness he often did address his master as he used to address him in the past. "He asked if--"

"What stranger?" rather testily interposed Lord Hartledon. "I am at dinner, and can't see any stranger now. What are you thinking about, Hedges?"

"It is what I said," returned Hedges; "but he would not take the answer.

He said he had come a long way to see your lords.h.i.+p, and he would see you; his business was very important. My lady asked him--"

"Has Lady Hartledon returned?"

"She came in now, my lord, while I was denying you to him. Her ladys.h.i.+p heard him say he would see you, and she inquired what his business was; but he did not tell her. It was private business, he remarked, and could only be entered into with your lords.h.i.+p."

"Who is it, Hedges? Do you know him?"

Lord Hartledon had dropped his voice to confidential tones. Hedges was faithful, and had been privy to some of his embarra.s.sments in the old days. The man looked at the barrister, and seemed to hesitate.

"Speak out. You can say anything before Mr. Carr."

"I don't know him," answered Hedges. "It is the gentleman who came to Hartledon the week after your lords.h.i.+p's marriage, asking five hundred questions, and wanting--"

"He, is it?" interrupted Val. "You told me about him when I came home, I remember. Go on, Hedges."

"That's all, my lord. Except that he is here now"--and Hedges nodded his head towards the room-door. "He seems very inquisitive. When my lady went upstairs, he asked whether that was the countess, and followed her to the foot of the stairs to look after her. I never saw any gentleman stare so."

Val played with his wine-gla.s.s, and pondered. "I don't believe I owe a s.h.i.+lling in the world," quoth he--betraying the bent of his thoughts, and speaking to no one in particular. "I have squared-up every debt, as far as I know."

"He does not look like a creditor," observed Hedges, with a fatherly air.

"Quite superior to that: more like a parson. It's his manner that makes one doubt. There was a mystery about it at Hartledon that I didn't like; and he refused to give his name. His insisting on seeing your lords.h.i.+p now, at dinner or not at dinner, is odd too; his voice is quiet, just as if he possessed the right to do this. I didn't know what to do, and as I say, he's in the hall."

"Show him in somewhere, Hedges. Lady Hartledon is in the drawing-room, I suppose: let him go into the dining-room."

"Her ladys.h.i.+p's dinner is being laid there, my lord," dissented the cautious retainer. "She said it was to be served as soon as it was ready, having come home earlier than she expected."

"Deuce take it!" testily responded Val, "one can't swing a cat in these cramped hired houses. Show him into my smoking-den upstairs."

"Let me go there," said Mr. Carr, "and you can see him in this room."

"No; keep to your wine, Carr. Take him up there, Hedges."

The butler retired, and Lord Hartledon turned to his guest. "Carr, can you give a guess at the fellow's business?"

"It's nothing to trouble you. If you have overlooked any old debt, you are able to give a cheque for it. But I should rather suspect your persevering friend to be some clergyman or missionary, bent on drawing a good subscription from you."

Val did not raise his eyes. He was playing again with his empty wine-gla.s.s, his face grave and perplexed.

"Do they serve writs in these cases?" he suddenly asked.

Mr. Carr laughed. "Is the time so long gone by that you have forgotten yours? You have had some in your day."

"I am not thinking of debt, Carr: that is over for me. But there's no denying that I behaved disgracefully to--you know--and Dr. Ashton has good reason to be incensed. Can he be bringing an action against me, and is this visit in any way connected with it?"

"Nonsense," said Mr. Carr.

"Is it nonsense! I'm sure I've heard of their dressing-up these serving-officers as clergymen, to entrap the unwary. Well, call it nonsense, if you like. What of my suggestion in regard to Dr. Ashton?"

Thomas Carr paused to consider. That it was most improbable in all respects, he felt sure; next door to impossible.

"The doctor is too respectable a man to do anything of the sort," he answered. "He is high-minded, honourable, wealthy: there's no inducement whatever. _No._"

"Yes, there may be one: that of punis.h.i.+ng me by bringing my disgrace before the world."

"You forget that he would bring his daughter's name before it at the same time. It is quite out of the range of possibility. The Ashtons are not people to seek legal reparation for injury of this sort. But that your fears are blinding you, you would never suspect them of being capable of it."

"The stranger is upstairs, my lord," interrupted Hedges, coming back to the room. "I asked him what name, and he said your lords.h.i.+p would know him when you saw him, and there was no need to give it."

Lord Hartledon went upstairs, marshalled by the butler. Hedges was resenting the mystery; very much on his master's account, a little on his own, for it cannot be denied that he was given to curiosity. He threw open the door of the little smoking-den, and in his loftiest, loudest, most uncompromising voice, announced:

"The gentleman, my lord."

Then retired, and shut them in.

Thomas Carr remained alone. He was not fond of wine, and did not help himself during his host's absence. Five minutes, ten minutes, half-an-hour, an hour; and still he was alone. At the end of the first half-hour he began to think Val a long time; at the end of the hour he feared something must have happened. Could he be quarrelling with the mysterious stranger? Could he have forgotten him and gone out? Could he--

The door softly opened, and Lord Hartledon came in. Was it Lord Hartledon? Thomas Carr rose from his chair in amazement and dread. It was like him, but with some awful terror upon him. His face was of an ashy whiteness; the veins of his brow stood out; his dry lips were drawn.

"Good Heavens, Hartledon!" uttered Thomas Carr. "What is it? You look as if you had been accused of murder."

"I have been accused of it," gasped the unhappy man, "of worse than murder. Ay, and I have done it."

The words called up a strange confusion of ideas in the mind of Thomas Carr. Worse than murder!

"What is it?" cried he, aloud. "I am beginning to dream."

"Will you stand by me?" rejoined Hartledon, his voice seeming to have changed into something curiously hollow. "I have asked you before for trifles; I ask you now in the extremity of need. Will you stand by me, and aid me with your advice?"

"Y--es," answered Mr. Carr, his excessive astonishment causing a hesitation. "Where is your visitor?"

"Upstairs. He holds a fearful secret, and has me in his power. Do you come back with me, and combat with him against its betrayal."

"A fearful secret!" was Thomas Carr's exclamation. "What brings you with one?"

Lord Hartledon only groaned. "You will stand by me, Carr? Will you come upstairs and do what you can for me?"

"I am quite ready," replied Thomas Carr, quickly. "I will stand by you now, as ever. But--I seem to be in a maze. Is it a true charge?"

"Yes, in so far as that--But I had better tell you the story," he broke off, wiping his brow. "I must tell it you before you go upstairs."