The Pit Prop Syndicate Part 21

He dropped on his knees before her and seized her hands in his own.

"My darling," he whispered fiercely. "I love you enough for us both. Say you'll marry me. Say--"

She wrenched her hands from him. "Oh!" she cried as if heartbroken, and burst into an uncontrollable flood of tears.

Merriman was maddened beyond endurance by the sight

"What a brute I am!" he gasped. "Now I've made you cry."

"For pity's sake! Do stop it! Nothing matters about anything else if only you stop!"

He was almost beside himself with misery as he pleaded with her. But soon he pulled himself together and began to speak more rationally.

"At least tell me the reason," he besought. "I know I've no right to ask, but it matters so much. Have pity and tell me, is it someone else?"

She shook her head faintly between her sobs.

"Thank goodness for that anyway. Tell me once again. Is it that you don't like me?"

Again she shook her head.

"You do like me!" he exclaimed breathlessly. "You do, Madeleine. Say it!

Say that you do!"

She made a resolute effort for self-control.

"You know I do, but--" she began in a tremulous whisper. In a paroxysm of overwhelming excitement he interrupted her.

"Madeleine," he cried wildly, again seizing her hands, "you don't--it couldn't be possible that you--that you love me?"

This time she did not withdraw her hands. Slowly she raised her eyes to his, and in them he read his answer. In a moment she was in his arms and he was crus.h.i.+ng her to his heart.

For a breathless s.p.a.ce she lay, a happy little smile on her lips, and then the moment pa.s.sed. "Oh!" she cried, struggling to release herself, "what have I done? Let me go! I shouldn't have--"

"Darling," he breathed triumphantly. "I'll never let you go as long as I live! You love me! What else matters?"

"No, no," she cried again, her tears once more flowing. "I was wrong. I shouldn't have allowed you. It can never be."

He laughed savagely.

"Never be?" he repeated. "Why, dear one, it is. I'd like to know the person or thing that could stop it now!"

"It can never be," she repeated in a voice of despair. "You don't understand. There are obstacles."

She argued. He scoffed first, then he pleaded. He demanded to be told the nature of the barrier, then he besought, but all to no purpose. She would say no more than that it could never be.

And then--suddenly the question of the syndicate flashed into his mind, and he sat, almost gasping with wonder as he realized that he had entirely forgotten it! He had forgotten this mysterious business which had occupied his thoughts to the exclusion of almost all else for the past two months! It seemed to him incredible. Yet so it was.

There surged over him a feeling of relief, so that once more he all but laughed. He turned to Madeleine.

"I know," he cried triumphantly, "the obstacle. And it's just nothing at all. It's this syndicate business that your father has got mixed up in.

Now tell me! Isn't that it?"

The effect of his words on the girl was instantaneous. She started and then sat quite still, while the color slowly drained from her face, leaving it bleached and deathlike. A look of fear and horror grew in her eyes, and her fingers clasped until the knuckles showed white.

"Oh!" she stammered brokenly, "what do you mean by that?"

Merriman tried once more to take her hand.

"Dear one," he said caressingly, "don't let what I said distress you. We know the syndicate is carrying on something that--well, perhaps wouldn't bear too close investigation. But that has nothing to do with us. It won't affect our relations."

The girl seemed transfixed with horror.

"We know?" she repeated dully. "Who are we?"

"Why, Hilliard; Hilliard and I. We found out quite by accident that there was something secret going on. We were both interested; Hilliard has a mania for puzzles, and besides he thought he might get some kudos if the business was illegal and he could bring it to light, while I knew that because of Mr. Coburn's connection with it the matter might affect you."

"Yes?" She seemed hardly able to frame the syllable between her dry lips.

Merriman was profoundly unhappy. He felt it was out of the question for him to tell her anything but the exact truth. Whether she would consider he had acted improperly in spying on the syndicate he did not know, but even at the risk of destroying his own chance of happiness he could not deceive her.

"Dear one," he said in a low tone, "don't think any worse of me than you can help, and I will tell you everything. You remember that first day that I was here, when you met me in the lane and we walked to the mill?"

She nodded.

"You may recall that a lorry had just arrived, and that I stopped and stared at it? Well, I had noticed that the number plate had been changed."

"Ah," she exclaimed, "I was afraid you had."

"Yes, I saw it, though it conveyed nothing to me. But I was interested, and one night in London, just to make conversation in the club, I mentioned what I had seen. Hilliard was present, and he joined me on the way home and insisted on talking over the affair. As I said, he has a mania for puzzles, and the mystery appealed to him. He was going on that motorboat tour across France, and he suggested that I should join him and that we should call here on our way, so as to see if we could find the solution. Neither of us thought then, you understand, that there was anything wrong; he was merely interested. I didn't care about the mystery, but I confess I leaped at the idea of coming back in order to meet you again, and on the understanding that there was to be nothing in the nature of spying, I agreed to his proposal."

Merriman paused, but the girl, whose eyes were fixed intently on his face, made no remark, and he continued:

"While we were here, Hilliard, who is very observant and clever, saw one or two little things which excited his suspicion, and without telling me, he slipped on board the Girondin and overheard a conversation between Mr. Coburn, Captain Beamish, Mr. Bulla, and Henri. He learned at once that something serious and illegal was in progress, but he did not learn what it was."

"Then there was spying," she declared accusingly.

"There was," he admitted. "I can only say that under the circ.u.mstances he thought himself justified."

"Go on," she ordered shortly.

"We returned then to England, and were kept at our offices for about a week. But Hilliard felt that we could not drop the matter, as we should then become accomplices. Besides, he was interested. He proposed we should try to find out more about it. This time I agreed, but I would ask you, Madeleine, to believe me when I tell you my motive, and to judge me by it. He spoke of reporting what he had learned to the police, and if I hadn't agreed to help him he would have done so. I wanted at all costs to avoid that, because if there was going to be any trouble I wanted Mr. Coburn to be out of it first. Believe me or not, that was my only reason for agreeing."

"I do believe you," she said, "but finish what you have to tell me."

"We learned from Lloyd's List that the Girondin put into Hull. We went there and at Ferriby, seven miles up-stream, we found the depot where she discharged the props. You don't know it?"

She shook her head.