The Great God Gold Part 25

"Yes, some tea. I want nothing else."

And she ascended to her own neat bedroom on the second floor where, after closing the door, she flung herself upon the bed and burst into tears.

Her nerves had been unstrung by the severe ordeal she had gone through.

When the maid brought her tea, she dried her eyes and allowed the girl to a.s.sist her to change her dusty skirt and torn blouse, and after a good wash and a cup of tea she felt decidedly better and refreshed.

Laura lit a fire, and when it had burnt up Gwen flung herself into her cretonne-covered armchair to rest and to think.

Since she had last sat in that cosy well-remembered room of hers there had been hideous happenings. The past seemed to her all like a bad dream. She shuddered as she recalled it. Even the events of that day hardly seemed clear and distinct. Her recollection of them was hazy, so agitated and anxious had she been. Why she had been so suddenly released from that hateful bondage was also to her a complete mystery.

She was recalling that first interview with the coa.r.s.e, red-faced man whose name she had not been told: with what little consideration he had treated her, and how he had compelled her to come forth from her stronghold in order to speak with him.

He had asked her many curious questions, the purport of which she could not discern. Some of them concerned her father's recent actions and movements; some of them concerned the man she loved.

But she was independent, and refused point-blank to answer anything.

She defied that man who, in turn, jeered at her helplessness, and so insulted her that the flush of shame rose upon her white cheeks.

"You shall answer me these questions, young lady," cried the pompous man in firm determination, "or it will be the worse for you!" he added with a look, the real meaning of which she was unable to disguise from herself.

Yet she stood defiant, even though she was helpless in his hands.

"My father's business does not concern you," she had cried, "and if you think his daughter will betray him into the hands of his enemies you are mistaken, sir!"

The bloated, red-faced brute blurted forth a quick imprecation, and would have struck her had not the tall man who was her janitor interfered, saying:

"No, don't. She'll reconsider her refusal, no doubt."

"If she does not tell me everything--everything we want to know--and if she does not consent to do our bidding and bring to us whatever we desire, then she need not look for mercy. She is ours, and we shall treat her as such. The man who called himself `Wetherton' shall come back to her. He'll very soon overcome her scruples and cause her to reflect!" the man had laughed hoa.r.s.ely.

"Give her time," suggested the tall man.

"We want no more of these heroics about her betraying her father," the other sneered. "If so, she'll regret it. You know, Charlie, what I mean: how more than one girl has bitterly regretted her defiance."

Gwen fell suddenly upon her knees, imploring to be allowed to go free.

But her tormentor only repeated his threats in terms which left no doubt as to what he intended should be the poor girl's fate, and laughing he took up his hat and strode forth.

From that moment the tall man addressed as Charlie, though he would give no explanation whatever as to the reason those strange questions had been put to her concerning her father and her lover, treated her with the greatest consideration, yet at the same time kept constantly expressing a fear that, if she still refused, the danger threatened would certainly befall her.

Again, on the following day, the fat red-faced inquisitor came and put those questions to her. But he still found her obdurate. She recognised that those people were her father's enemies, therefore she had determined to say nothing.

Ah! would she ever forget all the horror of those dramatic interviews-- the dastardly threats of that blackguard who laughed at her unhappiness and who uttered words which caused her face to burn with shame.

And then came the final scene, just as suddenly as the first.

The inquisitor came again, and after another violent scene left, declaring that the false "Wetherton" should return and become her janitor in place of the man she knew as Charlie.

The latter seemed pained and very anxious after the red-faced man had gone. She inquired the reason, but he only sighed, declaring that the man under whose power they both were would most certainly carry out his threat towards her.

Half mad with anxiety and grief, she had then confided in the tall man, telling him a brief disjointed story of the half-burned ma.n.u.script, in the course of which she had mentioned the name of a man whom she had never met--Doctor Diamond, of Horsford. Her lover, she explained, was the Doctor's friend.

The man had put to her a few rapid questions to which she had replied; then, as though with sudden resolve, he had risen from the table where he had been sitting, and clenching his fists poured forth a flood of execrations upon some person he did not name.

She was surprised at the action, and her surprise increased when, a few minutes later, he had halted before her saying:

"Though I risk my own liberty in a.s.sisting you, Miss Griffin, I will not keep you here, the innocent victim of that heartless blackguard and his sycophants. I have a daughter of my own--a little daughter who is all in all to me. `Red Mullet'--that's my name, Miss--may bear a pretty bad reputation, but he will never lift a finger against a defenceless girl, nor will he act in opposition to a man who has stood his friend. My only stipulation is that you will say nothing. We will meet again ere long."

And then, five minutes later, having given her solemn promise of secrecy, she had left the house, wandering the dark streets until she had found herself in Oxford Street, where she had hailed a cab and driven home.

Over all this she sat thinking, gazing thoughtfully into the dancing flames and wondering.

But from her reverie she was awakened by the re-entry of the maid, who said:

"Both the Professor and Mr Farquhar are downstairs, miss. Will you please go down to them at once?"

She started quickly. A cold shudder ran through her.

With that vow of secrecy upon her, the vow given to the man who had been her protector, what explanation of her absence could she give to Frank.

She rose slowly from her chair, her great dark eyes fixed straight before her.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

THE FALLING OF THE SHADOW.

Gwen stood before her father and her lover, a pale, wan, trembling figure, evasive in all her answers.

With the seal of silence upon her lips what could she say?

As Professor Griffin had entered the door with his latch-key a hansom had drawn up at the kerb, and Frank, who had come straight from Charing Cross, after dropping his kit at his rooms, sprang out and ran up the steps to the porch to meet the elder man with a merry greeting.

His first inquiry had been of Gwen, but the Professor's face told him that something was wrong, and they entered the hall together. Next moment, however, the maid rushed forward exclaiming: "Miss Gwen's come home, sir. She's upstairs."

"Tell her we are here," said her father, "and we'd like to see her at once."

Then the two men walked into the dining-room, where, in a few brief sentences, the Professor explained to young Farquhar his daughter's sudden disappearance.

Frank was quick to notice that the girl he loved had scarce dared to raise her eyes to his as she entered the room. The grey gown she wore, unrelieved by any touch of colour, served to accentuate the deadly pallor of her soft countenance. A change had been wrought in her--a great astounding change.

"Why, Gwen dear!" gasped her father. "What's the matter? What has occurred?"

"Nothing, dad," faltered the girl.

"That's quite absurd, my child," cried the elder man. "You've been absent from home all these days, and sent me no word! Something unusual must have occurred."

"Nothing, dad dear--at least, nothing that I can tell you."

Frank started, staring straight at her, utterly amazed at her response.

"But, Gwen," he exclaimed, "you surely can explain where you've been.