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"What are you doing, Althea?" he cried.
I put my back to the door and slipping my hand through the opening in my skirt got my revolver in readiness. With the other hand I took hold of the string with which we had tied on the skirt. All the top hamper of hat and so on would come off with one vigorous tug.
Thus prepared I waited to see what he would do next.
His first attempt was bl.u.s.ter. "How dare you lock that door? If you think to try and cheat me at the last moment, it will not help you. I have only to send word and your father will be in gaol." He was afraid to speak too loudly for fear that those outside should hear him; but his temper was rising quickly.
On my side I was absolutely indifferent who heard us, and I stood stock still with my back against the door staring at him as hard as I could stare through the meshes of the thick veil.
"Open that door, or give me the key at once. Do you hear, Althea? This is all foolishness. Then I shall take it from you," he continued, when he got no reply. He came up to me and I thrust him away.
Even then he did not suspect the trick I had played him. Presumably he could not believe any one could have made such a fool of him.
He was at a loss what to do next. He was but a weakly fellow, and the strength with which I had pushed him away had startled him.
"What is it you want, Althea? I'll do anything you wish."
I chose that moment to end the farce. I drew the tape which held up the skirt, and with a vigorous tug got rid of the hat and wig and threw it all aside as I disentangled my legs from the skirt.
He started back as though I were the devil himself. I must have looked a curious figure. I had had to roll up my trousers to prevent their being seen underneath the dress; I still had on Bessie's short cloak and was thus still garbed on top partly as a man and partly as a woman, while my drawers showed as high as my knees.
But it was not the humour of the change which appealed to him now. His wide eyes were fixed first on my face and then on the revolver which I took good care should attract a full share of his attention.
"Sit down and hold your tongue till I tell you to speak," I said.
He was ashen white and trembled violently. But he was obedient enough.
He sat down, or rather fell into a chair, and glared helplessly at me.
I got rid of the rest of the disguise and then rolled down my trousers.
I had to free myself from the sense of the ridiculous figure I cut.
He watched every movement like a lynx. I bundled the things into a heap. "You can send them back to my house presently," I said with a grim laugh. "And now we can talk. First, give me that paper which you were to send by that fellow in the hall."
He tried to force some sort of lie in response, but his lips were trembling so that he could not frame the words.
"I'm glad to see you are suffering from a touch of the agitation you were quite ready to inflict on Althea. Now don't make any mistake. You have to do exactly what I order you. It's a matter of life or death to you."
I gave him time to digest this so that it might sink right into his inmost convictions, and saturate his little soul with terror. He had enjoyed the sensation that afternoon of riding rough-shod over me; and he should learn now how it felt to have some one else in the saddle.
Judging by his looks he found the experience mightily depressing.
In the pause some one knocked at the door. A pa.s.sing gleam of hope flashed into his eyes and he half rose. But I lifted my weapon just the fraction of an inch and gestured to him to keep his seat. He obeyed and crouched back in the chair like a whipped hound.
In this way we waited while the knock was twice repeated.
"Tell them to go away," I ordered.
And then he gave me a surprise in my turn. "Break the door open," he called in as loud a tone as he could master. But fear had clogged his utterance, so that they could not hear his words distinctly.
"What did you say, sir?" called some one in response.
Before he could reply to this I sprang on him and tore the coveted packet from his pocket, ripped off the seals and glanced at the contents. The glance was enough to satisfy me of the prize I had secured.
"You can call them in now, if you dare. I don't want your life now."
He stood a few seconds staring at me, quivering with rage and fear; and then the question was repeated from outside.
"Don't try that trick again, mind," I said.
"Go away till I call," he answered.
"Good," I said with a grim smile. "Now listen to me. Do what I tell you and you shall have a chance to get out of the mess. Go to your desk there and make up a dummy packet like this in appearance and give it to the man who is waiting."
For the moment he was incapable of movement. The failure of his little attempt to outwit me and the result had unnerved him utterly.
"You are going to kill me?" he murmured, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"Not if you do as I bid you. I don't lie, and I have pa.s.sed my word."
It was necessary to steady his nerves in some degree for what I meant him to do; so I waited while he fought down some of his paralysing terror.
Presently he rose and shambled across to the desk, steadying himself as he went by holding to the furniture. He fell into the chair before it and buried his head in his hands and groaned.
"Come. Make an effort." He started at the sound of my voice and glanced round at me. I think he was the most despicable coward I had ever seen. With another deep sigh he picked out an envelope like that I had taken from him and then with shaking fingers folded some sheets of paper, placed them in it and addressed it.
"Seal it," I ordered as he held it out to me. This occupied a longish time; and in his agitation he burnt his fingers badly with the wax. "So far so good," I said. "Now a note to the priest that the ceremony cannot take place. It can't very well, unless you wish to marry me," I added with a short unpleasant laugh.
With a great effort he succeeded in writing the note; and again held it out for me to read. "Now, take these to the door and tell your servant to give the one to the priest and the other to the messenger from W.
Mischen. Not a syllable more. I shall be behind you with this"; and I held up the revolver.
I rang the bell and we crossed the room together. I unlocked the door and stood close behind him with the muzzle of my weapon pressed close to his ribs.
"My finger is on the trigger," I whispered, as the servant knocked and he opened the door. He was too abjectly frightened to try any tricks this time, and delivered the message just as I had told him. The next instant the door was safely locked once more, and he tottered back to his seat.
"You can take your own time now to recover; but you have a good deal more writing to do, so you had better pull yourself together."
A silence, lasting some minutes followed; and I used the time to read the paper which I had secured and to make a rough precis of it. He glanced up once or twice at me the while, and when I put the paper back into the envelope, he asked: "What are you going to do with that?"
I paid no heed to his question.
"Are you ready? Then go over to your desk again and write me a true account of how you got this."
This threw him again into a condition of trembling fear. "What do you want it for?" he stammered.
"I'll give you two minutes to make a start in"; and I drew out my watch.
He got up and fumbled his way to the desk again, and after a pause began to write, with many delays and hesitation.
Presently I crossed and over his shoulder read what he had written. A silly lie about having found the paper. I tore the sheet from the desk and crumpled it up.