SALVATION.
There was a ring at the front door bell followed by a loud double knock.
But Ruby Strode did not hear. She was still seated at the writing-table
bending over the large pad of white blotting-paper, in the fingers of
one hand a pen. She sat very still, scarcely seeming to breathe. It
looked as though she were writing: not a sound disturbed the silence of
the little room. The blinds were still drawn down.
Presently, outside, footsteps could be heard ascending the staircase.
Somebody knocked on the door, which was instantly opened, and the
landlady put her head into the room.
"A gentleman to see you, sir."
She stopped abruptly, as, gazing round the room, she saw only Ruby
Strode bending over the writing-table.
"Beg pardon, I thought Mr. Dale was here. There's a gentleman to see
him."
Ruby started and jumped to her feet. She laid her pen down. In her
hand she held a slip of paper which she had just blotted. She folded it
up with unsteady fingers.
"Mr. Dale went out just now--for a few minutes--he won't be long."
She spoke rapidly in jerks, and turning round faced the door, her hands
clasped behind her back.
"Oh, it doesn't matter! I suppose I can wait." And the visitor entered
the room. "That sounds like Miss Strode's voice."
Robert Despard crossed to Ruby's side and held out his hand. He was a
dark, well-set-up man, some years Ruby's senior. He was faultlessly
dressed in a brown lounge suit, a light-coloured bowler placed jauntily
on the back of his head, a pair of race glasses slung across his
shoulders, and he wore a pair of highly-polished tan boots.
"I thought I might find you here," he continued, looking at Ruby with a
familiar smile and giving a nervous twirl to his black moustache when
she did not take his hand. "I saw you both at the races, but I couldn't
get near you for the crowd. Thought I would look in and see how Rupert
had done. I bet he came a nasty cropper over that disqualification.
Can't say you're looking exactly jolly."
Ruby stepped back and forced a smile to her lips.
"Oh, we're all right!" she said unsteadily, commencing to fold up the
slip of paper she had been holding in her hand behind her back. "We
won."
Despard raised his eyebrows and gave a dry laugh. "I don't think!
Rupert told me he plunged, on Paulus. As a matter of fact, I came round
to condole with him. I knew he was pretty hard hit and all that sort of
thing."
"Well, you are wrong! He doesn't want your sympathy, as it happens."
Ruby spoke almost defiantly. The colour had returned to her cheeks now.
They were scarlet and her eyes were bright. There was defiance in them,
too.
Despard watched her closely, and the expression on his face gradually
changed. A cynical smile still played about his lips.
"You're a loyal little devil!" he said between his teeth. "By gad! I
admire you for it. But let me tell you that poor old Rupert Dale is
ruined. Broke to the world, and he's failed in his final, too. I'm
awfully sorry for him--and all that, but there you are."
"Yes, you sound as if you were sorry," Ruby replied sarcastically. She
commenced to pull on one of her gloves, then slipped the strip of folded
paper underneath the glove into the palm of her hand. Despard was
watching her with his small, bright eyes.
"Is that your winnings you're hiding away?" he sneered.
He threw his hat on to the table and seated himself on the arm of a
chair close to Ruby.
"I wanted to see you more than I did Rupert," he said, lowering his
voice. "Of course, it's all over between you two now? You wouldn't be
mad enough to marry a pauper, even if he were cad enough to want you to.
So don't forget that I'm just as keen on you as ever." He stretched out
his arm and pulled Ruby towards him. "I knew my turn would come if I
waited long enough."
Quietly but firmly Ruby released her arm, and, moving away, stood with
her back to the window so that her face was in shadow. Though she
despised Robert Despard, she feared him.
"You call yourself Rupert's friend, and yet you choose the very moment
when you believe he is ruined to make love to the woman to whom he was
engaged to be married, and under his own roof, too."
"Dash it all, it's only a lodging house!" Despard replied brutally.
"But, go on, I love you when you get angry. You look as if you were a
leading lady earning a hundred pounds a week instead of a show girl
walking on at a couple of guineas."
"A show girl has a heart and a conscience, which is more than you've
got, anyway," Ruby replied fiercely; "and Mr. Dale shall know the kind
of friend he's got in you."
Despard shrugged his shoulders and suppressed a yawn. "So that's all
the thanks I get. Dash it all, isn't it proof that I love you, when,
directly I know your man has got the kick, I hurry down to tell you I'll
take his place--look after you, pay your bills--make you my wife,
anything you like in the world! I loved you long before he ever met
you. I told you I didn't mean to give you up. I told you no one else
should take you from me. Rupert is all right, of course; I am fond of
him, but he isn't the right man for you. Now that he's come a cropper
and failed in his exam., he'll have to go back to his Devonshire bog and
leave me to look after you."
Ruby tried to speak, but she could not trust herself for some seconds.
Despard watched her with an amused smile. Suddenly she crossed the room
and opened the sitting-room door.
"I'll go out and find Rupert. You had better say to his face what
you've just said to me," she cried.
She hurried downstairs out into the street. She saw Rupert coming
slowly towards her and she ran to meet him.
Meanwhile, Despard left alone in the sitting-room, lit a cigarette, and
rising from his chair glanced casually at the evening newspaper lying on
the writing-table. Ruby had left the letter Rupert had written to his
father lying on the white sheet of blotting-paper. Almost
unconsciously, Despard commenced to read it. Then he picked it up and
glanced hurriedly towards the door; he read it through from beginning to
end. He gave a long, low whistle of astonishment, and carefully
replaced the letter.
He noticed the place where the first page had been blotted on the new
sheet of white blotting-paper. And just below it his quick eyes saw one
small word, underneath it a couple of naughts. There was nothing
particularly strange or remarkable about this. He would probably never
have noticed it if the blotting-paper had not been clean. But,
gradually, as he stared at the one undecipherable word with the two
naughts he began to feel as if there were significance about them. They
stood out on the white sheet of blotting-paper.
There was a small mirror standing on the mantel-piece. He took it up and
held it over the blotting-pad. And he read reflected the single word
between the two naughts. It was "hundred." A little way beyond it he
noticed a single letter "s."
Replacing the mirror he stood with his back to the fireplace, his hands
deep in his trousers pockets, thinking.
"Hundred," "s," and two naughts. He had seen that the slip of paper
which Ruby tucked into her glove was a cheque. He was quite sure that
neither she nor Rupert Dale had a hundred pounds in the world. Indeed,
he knew the state of the latter's finances better than the girl did.
For only a few months ago, he had lent Rupert twenty-five pounds. He
stroked his black moustache thoughtfully. Before he could solve the
little problem Dale himself entered the room, followed a few minutes
later by Ruby.
"I came to tell you how devilish sorry I was that you had backed a loser
and got plucked," Despard said; "but, hang it all, you look cheerful
enough!"
"So would you," Rupert cried, slapping him on the back, "if you had had
a fiver on Ambuscade at a hundred to one."
The frown deepened on Robert Despard's forehead.
"Look here, is this a joke or what?"
"It's no joke," Rupert laughed hysterically. "Ask Ruby, she did it for
me! I'll tell you what we'll do. We'll all go out and have a bit of
dinner together and break a bottle of wine on the strength of it."
As Rupert spoke he caught sight of the letter to his father lying on the
writing-table. Picking it up quickly he tore it into a dozen fragments
and threw them into the waste-paper basket.
Despard watched him, and his frown deepened. "You mean to say you backed
Ambuscade at a hundred to one and got paid!"
"We didn't know the result until we left the course," Rupert replied
lightly. "Luckily, Ruby kept the ticket. We're going to draw the money
to-morrow. By gad, she's saved my life! I've had a narrow squeak."
"Who did you do the bet with?" Despard asked.
"I forgot the man's name. I've got the ticket safely in my pocket. We
shall get the money all right to-morrow."
Ruby spoke quickly. She could not conceal her nervousness and anxiety.
She, who had been so calm a little while ago when Rupert, believing that
ruin had overtaken him, had been on the point of committing suicide.
He noticed that she seemed flustered and ill at ease, but he put it down
to the sudden reaction. For himself he had forgotten all his troubles.
They no longer existed. Death had stood at his elbow less than an hour
ago. Now life was beckoning him to join in her revels. Curiously
enough, he did not seem to realise the debt he owed to Ruby Strode: yet
he would never have thought of backing Ambuscade himself.
As a matter of fact, he was too excited to think of anything. He only
knew that he could pay his debts, go down to Devonshire for his holidays
and face his father with a light heart. In due time he would have
another fling at the examination, pass it, obtain an appointment
somewhere, and then he would be able to marry Ruby and they would live
happily ever after.
But for the moment he just wanted to enjoy his good fortune; to dance,
to sing, to feast, to love.
"Come on, if you're both ready to start!" he cried excitedly. "Where
shall we dine? Trocadero, Cafe Royal, Savoy? We'll make a night of
it."
"The Savoy's good enough for me," Despard laughed over his shoulder.
"Do you mind if I wash my hands and make myself look a bit presentable
in your room, Rupert?"
Ruby waited until the bedroom door had closed on Despard. Then she put
her arms around Rupert's neck. "Do you mind very much if I don't come
with you to-night?" she whispered. "I'm feeling so tired. I think the
excitement has been too much for me."
Rupert looked at her with amazement. "Why, it will be no fun without
you. I don't want Despard! Rather wish he hadn't come down to see me.
You'll feel as fit as a fiddle when you've had a glass of wine."
But she shook her head, and held him tightly. He felt her arms
trembling. He saw tears swimming in her eyes.
"My dear, my dear, what a selfish brute I've been!" he cried with a
sudden revulsion of feeling. "Good heavens, you've saved my life--you've
done more than that--and I've not even thanked you."
Ruby stepped back and put her fingers over his mouth. "Not another
word," she whispered. "I'm so happy, really. It's just nerves. I want
to be quite alone. I want to realise our good fortune."
"Of course, if you would really not come," Rupert said; "or shall I tell
Despard we don't want him? I know you're not keen on him."
Ruby longed to tell Rupert what had taken place between them a few
moments ago. But fear of the man she loved and wanted sealed her lips.
She knew that the two men were friends. She knew that Despard had it in
his power to injure her. He had some influence with the manager of the
Ingenue Theatre, and there were other reasons. So she said nothing.
Despard rejoined them and they all went out together.
"We'll drive you home first," Rupert said to Ruby.
"I would rather you dropped me at the Tube," she replied. "I have
nearly two hours before I need go to the theatre. I'm not on until the
second act."
Despard pretended to be bitterly disappointed that Miss Strode was
deserting them. Ruby surreptitiously handed Rupert the money she had in
her purse and whispered to him that she would get their winnings in the
morning and bring them round to his rooms. She had no reason for
secrecy, and so he asked her to give him the ticket she had received
from the bookmaker when she had backed Ambuscade.
"I don't like the idea of your going round to the bookmaker's offices.
It's possible they'll dispute it, or make a fuss," he said.
Despard agreed and suggested that they should meet at ten o'clock in the
morning and all go round in a body. But Ruby was obstinate and refused
to give up the ticket.
"I backed the horse myself. I am going to get the money and bring it
round to Rupert!"
She got quickly out of the cab as it stopped at the Piccadilly Tube
Station and, blowing a kiss to Rupert, she disappeared in the crowd.
The two men drove to the grillroom of the Savoy.
"You are a lucky devil," Despard said, "if there's no mistake, and Miss
Strode really backed Ambuscade."
"Why should there be a mistake?" Rupert asked curtly.
"Oh, I don't know!"--Despard shrugged his shoulders--"but she seemed
rather mysterious about it. Perhaps that's a woman's way. They are
queer cattle."
"Ruby is one in a thousand," Rupert said quietly. "Look here, I'm off to
Devonshire to-morrow evening. I don't want the old man to hear I've
been plucked. I must tell him myself. I shall have to find some
reason, too, for my sudden wealth."
"One of the old-fashioned sort, eh?--don't approve of betting or pretty
girls. Will you keep Miss Strode dark, too?"
Rupert frowned. He did not reply at once. "I thought you knew we were
engaged to be married," he said at last. "I shan't tell the guv'nor
until I've passed my final, so if you come down you needn't mention
her."
Rupert suddenly found himself regretting the invitation he had given to
Despard some time ago to spend his holidays at Blackthorn Farm. Too
late, instinct warned him that he was not quite the sort of man he would
like to introduce to his sister.
"So you're really coming?" he said.
"Rather! I want to throw a fly for those trout you've spoken about, and
pot the rabbits. I'm a bit fed-up with town. If it's quite convenient
I'll meet you at Paddington Station to-morrow afternoon."
Rupert nodded. "The train leaves at eight-thirty. I must wire in the
morning and tell the guv'nor we're coming. I expect Marjorie will meet
us at Moreton with the trap."
"How old is she?" Despard asked.
Rupert did not reply, and the cab drew up outside the Savoy.
Dawn was beginning to break over the City before he returned to his
rooms. He switched on the electric lights. Curiously enough, he felt
wide-awake and not in the least tired. Yet the day had been a long and
eventful one, every hour filled with excitement.
Lighting a pipe, Rupert sat down at the writing-table, and went through
the bills and letters that lay in a heap beneath the paper-weight.
Including the money he had borrowed, he owed close on three hundred
pounds. He felt a shudder run through his body. In the morning when he
had gaily set out to the races he had not known it was as bad as that.
But for the inspiration which had made Ruby back Ambuscade where would
he have been now? And again a shiver passed through his body.
He saw himself sitting in that very chair holding a revolver to his
breast, his finger on the trigger. How near he had been to disgrace and
death!
A photograph of his father stood in a little silver frame near a vase of
flowers. He picked it up and looked at it, a mist rising before his
eyes.
"He trusted you, he believed in you," his conscience whispered.
"Trusted you to bear the old name bravely and proudly; trusted you to
retrieve the fallen fortunes of the family. How nearly you failed him!"
A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. If Ruby had made a mistake?
Supposing she had only told him she had backed Ambuscade in order to
save him from taking his life? Or, if she had backed the horse, what
guarantee had they that the bookmaker would pay up?
He rose to his feet, and walking to the windows opened them wide. A
cold breeze swept his face. A peculiar light grey outlined the trees and
houses. The street lamps glittered dimly before the coming dawn. London
was very still, and almost silent. Rupert raised his eyes to the sky.
It was grey and the stars had all disappeared; half unconsciously he
prayed as he had done when he was a boy. And he swore that if his
prayer were answered and he was able to discharge his debts, he would
remember his responsibilities in the future, and live his life according
to his father's wishes.
Switching off the lights he went to bed.
When he awoke the sun was high in the sky. It was past ten o'clock.
Hurriedly dressing and without waiting for breakfast, he drove to the
flat Ruby shared in Baker Street with another girl. But the housekeeper
told him that she had gone out nearly an hour previously. In spite of
the late night, Rupert felt strangely elated and excited. The sunshine
of the new day made him optimistic. He knew she had gone down to the
bookmakers to draw the money they had won. He waited a little while
thinking she might return. Then he remembered she had told him that she
would bring him the money to his rooms. He hurried back to Westminster.
But she was not there, and he felt a thrill of apprehension. He rang
for a cup of tea; when his landlady brought it she again reminded him of
his bill.
"I'm just waiting for some money to come from the bank," he said with
exaggerated carelessness. "I'm leaving town to-night for a week or two,
but I shall keep my rooms on. I'll pay for them in advance."
He swallowed his tea and smoked a cigarette. He could not eat. Ruby had
had plenty of time to draw the money and reach his rooms! Perhaps the
bookmaker was away, or refused to settle until Monday.
He heard Big Ben chime the hour--twelve o'clock. He lit another
cigarette and stood on the balcony outside the window waiting.
At last he saw a taxi-cab draw up outside his front door and Ruby Strode
alight. He ran down the staircase to meet her.
"Is it all right, have you got it?" he cried. His only thought was the
money now. The money that meant salvation.
She did not reply, but brushed past him upstairs and he followed her.
He heard her breath coming in quick, hard gasps, and following her into
the sitting-room he locked the door.
"Tell me, is it all right, have you got it?"
Rupert stretched out his hands imploringly.