The Living Link Part 58

"What have I done?"

"You? You have done every thing. You have aided and abetted the escape of an outlaw. You have a.s.sisted him in his nefarious occupation of Dalton Hall. You have aided and abetted him in the imprisonment of Dalton's brat. You have aided and abetted him in the murder of my boy Leon. You have--"

"Stop!" cried Lady Dudleigh, in a stern, commanding voice. "You have been a villain always, but you have never been so outspoken. Who are you? Do you know what happened ten years ago?"

"What?" asked Sir Lionel. "Do you mean Dalton's forgery, and his a.s.sa.s.sination of that--that banker fellow?"

Lady Dudleigh smiled grimly.

"I am glad that you said that," said she. "You remove my last scruple.

My brother's wrongs have well-nigh maddened me; but I have hesitated to bear witness against my husband, and the father of my children. I shall remember this, and it will sustain me when I bear my witness against you in a court of law."

"Me?" said Sir Lionel. "Me? Witness against me? You can not. No one will believe you."

"It will not be only your wife," said she, "though that will be something, but your own self, with your own hand."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what you know very well--your letter which you wrote to Frederick, inclosing your forged check."

"I never forged a check, and I never wrote a letter inclosing one!"

cried Sir Lionel. "Dalton forged that letter himself, if there is such a letter. He was an accomplished forger, and has suffered for it."

"The letter is your own," said Lady Dudleigh, "and I can swear to it."

"No one will believe you," cried Sir Lionel. "You shall be arrested for perjury."

Lady Dudleigh gave another grim smile, and then she added, "There is that _Maltese cross_. You forget that."

"What Maltese cross?" said Sir Lionel. "I never had one. That wasn't mine; it was Dalton's."

"But I can swear in a court of law," said Lady Dudleigh, "that this Maltese cross was _yours_, and that it was given to you by me as a birthday gift."

"No one will believe you!" cried Sir Lionel; "no one will believe you!"

"Why not? Will they refuse the oath of Lady Dudleigh?"

"I can show them that you are insane," said Sir Lionel, with a chuckle at the idea, which seemed to him like a sudden inspiration.

"You will not be able to show that Reginald is insane," said she.

"Reginald?"

"Yes, Reginald," repeated Lady Dudleigh. "Reginald knows that Maltese cross, and knows when I gave it to you. He too will be ready to swear to that in a court of law whenever I tell him that he may do so.

"Reginald?" said Sir Lionel, in a gloomy voice. "Why, he was--a child then."

"He was sixteen years old," said Lady Dudleigh.

This mention of Reginald seemed to crush Sir Lionel. He was silent for a long time. Evidently he had not been prepared for this in his plans for what he called a "fight." He sat in moody silence therefore. Once or twice he stole a furtive glance at her, and threw upon her a look which she did not see. It was a look full of hate and malignancy, while at the same time there was an expression of satisfaction in his face, as though he had conceived some new plan, which he intended to keep a secret all to himself.

CHAPTER XLIV.

LADY DUDLEIGH'S DECISION.

During the remainder of that drive nothing was said by either. Sir Lionel had his own thoughts, which, whatever they were, appeared to give him a certain satisfaction, and his brow was more unclouded when they reached the inn than it had been ever since the day of the trial.

Evidently the new design which he had conceived, and which remained unuttered in his mind, was very satisfactory to him.

That evening he himself began the conversation with Lady Dudleigh, a thing which he had not before done.

"It's all very well," said he, "for you to carry on your own plans. You may carry them on and welcome. I won't prevent you; in fact, I can't.

It's no use to deny it; I'm in your power. You're determined to crush me, and I must be crushed, I suppose. You are going to show to the world the strange spectacle of a wife and a son rising up against a husband and father, and swearing his life away. You will lead on, and Reginald will follow. This is the education that you have given him--it is to end in parricide. Very well; I must submit. Wife, slay your husband! mother, lead your son to parricide! Of course you comfort your conscience with the plea that you are doing justice. In the French Revolution there were wives who denounced their husbands, and sons who denounced their fathers, in the name of 'humanity,' and for the good of the republic. So go on. See that justice be done. Come on yourself to a.s.sa.s.sinate your husband, and bring on your parricide! Take sides with those who have murdered your son--the son whom you bore to me, and once loved! Uns.e.x yourself, and become a Fury! It is useless for me to make resistance, I suppose; and yet, woman! wife! mother! let me tell you that on the day when you attempt to do these things, and when your son stands by your side to help you, there will go up a cry of horror against you from outraged humanity!"

At this Lady Dudleigh looked at him, who, as usual, averted his eyes; but she made no reply.

"Bring him on!" said Sir Lionel--"your son--my son--the parricide! Do your worst. But at the same time allow me to inform you, in the mildest manner in the world, that if I am doomed, there is no reason why I should go mad in this infernal hole. What is more, I do not intend to stay here one single day longer. I'm not going to run away. That is impossible; you keep too sharp a look-out altogether. I'm simply going away from this place of horrors, and I rather think I'll go home. I'll go home--yes, home. Home is the place for me--Dudleigh Manor, where I first took you, my true wife--that is the place for me to be in when you come to me, you and your son, to hand me over, Judas-like, to death.

Yes, I'm going home, and if you choose to accompany me, why, all that I can say is, I'll have to bear it."

"I'll go," said Lady Dudleigh, laconically.

"Oh, of course," said Sir Lionel, "quite a true wife; like Ruth and Naomi. Whither thou goest, I will go. You see, I'm up in my Bible. Well, as I said, I can not prevent you, and I suppose there is no need for me to tell you to get ready."

Whether under these bitter taunts Lady Dudleigh writhed or not did not at all appear. She seemed as cool and calm as ever. Perhaps she had so schooled her nature that she was able to repress all outward signs of emotion, or perhaps she had undergone so much that a taunt could have no sting for her, or perhaps she had already contemplated and familiarized herself with all these possible views of her conduct to such an extent that the mention of them created no emotion. At any rate, whatever she felt, Sir Lionel saw nothing.

Having discharged this shot, Sir Lionel went to his desk, and taking out writing materials, began to write a letter. He wrote rapidly, and once or twice glanced furtively at Lady Dudleigh, as though he was fearful that she might overlook his writing. But there was no danger of that.

Lady Dudleigh did not move from her place. She did not seem to be aware that he was writing at all.

At length Sir Lionel finished, and then he folded, sealed, and addressed the letter. He finished this task with a face of supreme satisfaction, and stole a look toward Lady Dudleigh, in which there was a certain cunning triumph very visible, though it was not seen by the one at whom it was directed.

"And now," said he, waving the letter somewhat ostentatiously, and speaking in a formal tone, in which there was an evident sneer--"and now, Lady Dudleigh, I have the honor to inform you that I intend to go out and post this letter. May I have the honor of your company as far as the post-office, and back?"

Lady Dudleigh rose in silence, and hastily throwing on her things, prepared to follow him. Sir Lionel waited with mocking politeness, opened the door, for her to pa.s.s out first, and then in company with her went to the post-office, where he mailed the letter, and returned with the smile of satisfaction still upon his face.

Early on the next morning Lady Dudleigh saw her son. He had watched all that night by Dalton's bedside, and seemed pale and exhausted.

"Reginald," said Lady Dudleigh, "Sir Lionel is going away."

"Going away?" repeated Reginald, absently.

"Yes; back to Dudleigh Manor."

Reginald looked inquiringly at his mother, but said nothing.