Violet Forster's Lover Part 17

"It seems that you said something to Dodwell, when he asked you for a dance, which has set people's tongues wagging; you alone know what you said to Jackie, but he's going about with a face as black as his shoes."

"My dear Major Reith, I understand that you are sleeping here to-night.

If you ask me in the morning for information, I will give you all I can; but, while I may remark that I have said to both the persons you name only a little of what I propose to say, I would rather not tell you what I have said now. This is a ball; I want that to be the only fact in my mind for the remainder of the night."

"One more question and it shall. Have you heard anything of Beaton?"

"I haven't; but I may have. Something has happened that I don't understand, which puzzles me; but ask me about that also in the morning. As Mr. Tickell said when he wished to change the conversation, isn't it a capital floor?"

The major took the hint, which was more than she had done. The rest of the conversation was more in harmony with the moment; that is, they talked of nothing in which either took the slightest real interest.

The ball had come to the end to which all b.a.l.l.s come at last, and Miss Forster, having retired to her room, had gone through, with her maid's a.s.sistance, the preliminary stages of unrobing, when, Lady Cantyre entering, she informed the maid that her services would no longer be required--and the friends were left alone. The countess, who was attired in a mysterious garment of sky-blue silk, which became her, if the thing were possible, even more than the dress which she had worn at the ball, had placed herself in an arm-chair, and was toasting her toes at the fire.

"Violet, I'm told that you've been going it."

"Haven't we all been going it?"

"Yes, but not quite, I hope, on the same lines as you. You practically, it seems, treated Captain Dodwell to a whipping in the middle of the ballroom. That is not exactly the sort of treatment that one expects one guest to mete out to another."

"Margaret, I am more than ever convinced that Sydney Beaton has been the victim of a conspiracy. Something which was on Captain Dodwell's face during the brief interview I had with him, which he forced on me, made me absolutely certain that, for some purpose of his own, which I intend to get at the bottom of very soon, he was guilty of a deliberate falsehood on that horrible night; that he's a liar and a coward, as I had the pleasure of telling him."

"Oh, you did. No wonder that I had a feeling that he looked as if he had not altogether enjoyed the night. That was not a pretty thing for you to say. Vi, take care; be very sure of what you do. Things, from your point of view, are pretty bad already, you don't want to make them worse."

"I'm not going to make them worse--I couldn't. Margaret, something has happened to Sydney--something dreadful; something which I don't understand. Look at this. Do you know anything about it?"

She handed the countess something which she had taken out of the leather case upon the table.

"Isn't it your locket, the one he gave you, with his picture? Why do you ask if I know anything about it?"

"It's the one I gave him. You remember that you came to see me before you went downstairs; when you went out, did you see anything lying on the floor just outside my room?"

"Not that I'm aware of. Why?"

"Did you see that locket?"

"I certainly didn't; why am I being cross-examined?"

"Do you know anything about a maid in your employ named Simmons?"

"I don't; is there such an one?"

"Almost directly after you had gone a maid, who said that her name was Simmons, came into the room with that locket in her hand, and said that she'd picked it up off the floor just outside my room. Margaret, how could that locket have got there?"

"I don't believe it was there when I went out; I remember, quite well, looking up and down to see who was about. I could hardly have helped seeing it if it was there. But what's the mystery?"

"When we became engaged, we gave each other a locket; here's the one he gave me, that's the one I gave him; he said that it should never leave him. The last time I saw him--you know, I told you all about it--I showed him my locket, where it was; he put his finger inside his collar, he hooked up that chain, and on it was that locket; he declared it had never left him since he had had it, and that it never should. I am quite sure that he took it away with him that night; how came it to be on the floor outside my door?"

"It does seem odd."

"I should say it's as certain as anything could be, that that locket has been with him all the time he's been away. As you know, I've had no communication with him of any sort or kind, in spite of all my efforts; I've not had the faintest clue to his whereabouts.

Isn't it an extraordinary thing that that locket--from which he was inseparable--should be picked up on the floor just outside my room by a complete stranger, especially as it couldn't have been there before she came on the scene, or you'd have noticed it?"

"Simmons? I don't remember the name; and I rather pride myself on the fact that I do know the names of all the maids. Perhaps she came with one of the other women."

"No, she told me that she had been here only a few days, and that she came with some other new servants last week from town. Margaret, I've a feeling that that woman brought the locket with her; that she'd never found it as she pretended, that she knows more about it than she chose to say--the feeling was strong on me as she stood there with her smiling face. This locket came into her possession in some queer way. I saw it on her face, although she kept on smiling. If I hadn't been going down to the dance, I'd have had it out of her."

"Had what out of her?"

"The truth! If you only knew how I feel that everything--everyone--is against us; against me, and against Sydney; if you only knew what I've had to bear at home, from uncle, and other ways--from myself. Sydney is in some desperate plight; I'm as convinced of it as if he himself had told me. If I could only get at him to help him! But I can't! I can't!

I don't know where he is! And now that woman brings me his locket, from which I'm perfectly certain he would not allow himself to be parted unless he were at his last gasp--unless something worse than death stared him in the face. I do believe he'd stick to it--yes, Margaret, I mean it. I know Sydney, as no one else does, as no one else can; he has his faults--no one need tell me that, but I know he loves me, and that, having said what he did say about that locket, he'd stand to his word while the breath was in his body, unless--mind!--unless some awful thing has befallen him, and that's what I'm afraid of. You may laugh, but there's something here"--the girl pressed her hands to her side--"which tells me--if you only knew how afraid I am--oh, Margaret, if you only knew!"

The girl sank on to her knees at the countess's side, she hid her face on her ladys.h.i.+p's silken lap--and she cried.

CHAPTER XV

'Twixt the Dark and Daylight

The night had gone, the morning was well advanced, the day would soon break, the countess had long since gone, and still Miss Forster had not gone to bed. There was something which kept her from placing herself between the sheets; and now that at last she was beginning to have thoughts in that direction, something occurred which banished sleep still farther from her eyes.

She was just about to remove her dressing-gown, and really make herself ready for bed, when the silence of the night was broken by a sound.

"What was that? Wasn't it in my pa.s.sage?"

She stood in an att.i.tude of listening.

"There it is again. Isn't it just outside my door? I wonder if there's anyone there at this hour of the morning? I believe there is."

Altering her intention, she suffered her dressing-gown to remain where it was. Rapidly crossing the room, she stood close up to the door and listened.

"There is someone. Who can it be, at this hour of the morning? Whoever it is, is running away."

She suddenly opened the door and looked out. There was no one there.

She went into the pa.s.sage. Although the lights were out, she was still able to make out dimly that a figure, but whether of a man or a woman she could not be sure, was moving rapidly along the pa.s.sage, to vanish round the corner.

"I wonder who that was?"

She hesitated, returned into her room, and shut the door.

"It might have been anyone. It certainly might not be any business of mine; people can move about the house at any hour they please without consulting me. What was that? It sounded as if someone was calling.

There it is again. And there is someone running past my door again. I'm going to see what this means."

Reopening the door, she returned into the pa.s.sage.

"There's someone running down the stairs as if in a very great hurry.

What's that? That's a queer noise. Someone calling again; someone calling for help. There's something queer going on downstairs. Someone is quarrelling. I'm going to find out what it is. I don't care if it is no business of mine; people shouldn't make a noise like that at this time of night. It's everybody's business when they do."