The Bond of Black Part 8

THE BONY-FACED MAN.

Daily the problem grew more puzzling.

The fusing of the crucifix and the carved medallion of the Madonna were clearly due to the presence of the mysterious Aline, the beautiful woman who had warned me against the strange evil she exerted over those with whom she came in contact. Such occurrences seemed supernatural; yet so curious were her words and actions, and so peculiar and impressive her beauty, that I could not help doubting whether she actually existed in flesh and blood, or only in some bright vision that had come to hold me in fascination. Yet Simes had seen her, and had spoken with her. There was therefore no doubt that she was a living person, even though she might be a sorceress.

Nevertheless, they were something more than mere conjuring feats which caused the sacred objects in my room to spontaneously consume in her presence. Had she not told me plainly that evil followed in her footsteps? Did not these two inexplicable events fully bear out her words?

I called Simes, and when I showed him the Madonna he stood glaring at it as one terrified.

"I don't like that lady, sir," he exclaimed, glancing at me.

"Why not?"

"Well, sir, pardon me for saying so, but I believe she can work the evil of the very Devil himself."

That was exactly my own opinion; therefore I preserved silence.

As lover of a woman possessed of a mysterious influence, the like of which I had never before heard, my position was certainly an unique one.

In the days which followed I tried to argue with myself that I did not love her; to convince myself that what she had alleged was true, namely, that I admired but did not love her. Yet all was in vain. I was fascinated by her large blue eyes, which looked out upon me with that calm, childlike innocence, and remaining beneath their spell, believed that I loved her.

The mystery with which she had surrounded herself was remarkable. Her refusal to allow me to call upon her, or even to write, was strange, yet her excuse that her aunt would be annoyed was plausible enough.

Compelled, therefore, to await her visit, I remained from day to day anxious to meet her because I loved her.

On entering the club one afternoon I found Roddy alone in the smoking-room, writing a letter.

"Well!" he cried, merrily, gripping my hand. "How goes it--and how's your little mystery going on?"

I sank into a chair close to him and told him of Aline's visit.

"And you're clean gone on her--eh?" he queried.

I shrugged my shoulders and gave him a vague reply.

"Well, take care," he said in a serious tone. "If I were you I'd find out who and what she is. She might be some adventuress or other."

"Do you suspect her to be an adventuress?" I inquired quickly.

"My dear fellow, how can I tell? There seems to me something rather shady about her, that's all."

I pondered. Yes, he spoke the truth. There was something shady about her. She would tell me absolutely nothing of herself.

We smoked together for half an hour, then parted, for he was compelled to go down to the House, as a dutiful legislator should.

A week pa.s.sed yet I saw not Aline, nor had any word from her. From day to day I existed in all anxiety to once again look upon that face so angelic in its beauty and so pure in expression. Indeed, more than once I felt inclined to break the promise I had made her and call at Ellerdale Road, but I refrained, fearing lest such a course might annoy her.

One evening, a fortnight after she had visited me, I was walking along the Bayswater Road towards Oxford Street, skirting the railings of Hyde Park, when suddenly I noticed before me two figures, a man and a woman.

They were walking slowly, deep in conversation.

In an instant I recognised the slim, perfect figure in the black jacket and black hat as that of Aline, and drew back to escape observation.

Her companion was tall, thin, and rather ill-dressed. As they pa.s.sed beneath a street-lamp I discerned that he was about forty, with lank black hair, a long black moustache, and a sallow, bony face--a countenance the reverse of prepossessing. His silk hat had seen better days, his frock-coat was tightly b.u.t.toned for warmth, as he had no overcoat, and his boots were sadly run down at heel. As this seedy individual walked beside her she was speaking rapidly, while he, bonding to her, was listening intently.

The meeting was such an unexpected one that at first I was at a loss what to do. Next moment, however, with the fire of jealousy aroused within me, I resolved to follow them and watch. They strolled slowly along until they came to Victoria Gate, and then turned into the Park, at that hour dark and deserted. I noticed that as they entered she took his arm, and it appeared as if they were going in the direction of Grosvenor Gate, which leads out into Park Lane; for they crossed the Ring, and continued straight ahead along the tree-lined avenue. But few lights were there, so following at a respectable distance, I managed to keep them in sight.

Soon, however, they rested upon a seat at foot of a great old beech, and continued their conversation. I had, of course, a keen desire to learn the nature of this exchange of confidences, but the problem was how to approach sufficiently near and yet escape observation. At first I was inclined to relinquish my endeavours, but suddenly it occurred to me that I might get over the railing on to the gra.s.s, and in the darkness approach noiselessly behind the tree where they were seated.

Therefore, turning back some distance to a bend in the path, where they could not detect me, I sprang over the iron fencing, and treading softly, cautiously made my way up behind them, until I actually stood behind the tree within three yards of them, but with the railing between us.

Then, scarce daring to breathe, I waited to catch their words. Of this shabby-genteel fellow, evidently her lover, I was madly jealous; but my anger was instantly changed to surprise when I heard the nature of their conversation.

"But you must!" he was saying earnestly.

"I tell you, I won't!" she answered decisively. "The risk is too great--far too great."

"But as I've already told you, it's absolutely imperative."

He spoke roughly, but with a refinement which showed him to be educated.

He bore outward evidence of having come down in the world.

"I wouldn't act like that if I were offered a thousand pounds," she declared.

"But it must be done," he urged.

"Not by me."

"Do you intend to back out, then?" he inquired roughly.

"I merely tell you plainly that you and your ruffianly a.s.sociates have gone quite far enough. That's all," she answered calmly. Her words were not those which a woman usually uses towards her lover.

He gave vent to a short, brutal laugh, as if enjoying her indignation.

"It's all very well to talk like this, Aline," he said; "but you know quite well that argument is useless. You must do it."

"I will not, I tell you!" she cried fiercely.

"Well, we shall see," he answered. "Recollect that you are one of us, and as such, to break away is impossible."

"I know that, only too well," she answered bitterly. "But it is terrible--horrible! As each day pa.s.ses I am more and more convinced that the truth must soon be discovered."

"And if it is?"

"I will never live to bear the exposure," she said, in the hoa.r.s.e, low voice of one desperate.

"My dear girl," he exclaimed, "you who have beauty and a plausible tongue have the world before you; yet you always refuse to seize your opportunity. You who possess the power of the King of Evil, whose touch is deadly and whose caress is venomous, could rule an empire if you wished; yet you are inert, lethargic, and refuse to a.s.sist us, even in this."

"I will not sin deeper than I have already sinned," she answered. "I will have no hand in it."

"Why not?"