It was on the point of midnight, and absolute stillness reigned
throughout the house.
But Lady Beltham had not gone to bed. Although she had remained in the
great hall where she did her work, she had been unable to settle down to
any occupation. She had read a little, and begun a letter, got up and
sat down; and finally, beginning to feel chilly, she had drawn an easy
chair up to the hearth, where a log was just burning out, and stretching
out her slippers to the warmth had fallen into a waking dream.
A sound caught her ear and she sat upright. At first she thought it was
some trick of the imagination, but in another minute the noise grew
louder; there was the hurrying of feet and voices, muffled at first but
rapidly becoming louder, and at last a regular uproar, doors banging,
glass breaking, and shouts from all parts of the house. Lady Beltham
jumped up, nervous and trembling; she was just going to the window when
she heard a shot and stopped dead where she stood. Then she rushed out
into the vestibule.
"Help!" she screamed. "What on earth is the matter?" and remembering the
girls for whom she had assumed responsibility, she called out anxiously
for them. "Lisbeth! Thérèse! Susannah! Come to me!"
Doors upstairs were flung open, and with their hair streaming over their
night-dresses Thérèse and Susannah rushed downstairs and crouched down
by her side, stifling moans of terror.
"Lisbeth? Where is Lisbeth?" Lady Beltham asked sharply.
At the same moment she appeared, her face distorted with fright.
"Oh, Lady Beltham, it's dreadful! There's a man, a burglar in the
garden! And Walter is throttling him! They are fighting dreadfully!
They'll kill one another!"
Silbertown, the major-domo, came rushing in just then. Seeing the three
girls in their night-dresses he made as if to draw back, but Lady
Beltham called him in and demanded explanations.
"We had just finished our rounds," he answered breathlessly, "when we
caught sight of a man hiding in the shadows, a thief probably. When we
shouted to him he ran away, but we ran after him and seized him; he
resisted and there was a fight. But we have got him and the police will
take him away in a few minutes."
Lady Beltham listened, with jaw set and hands clenched.
"A thief?" she said, controlling her emotion. "How do you know he is a
thief?"
"Well," stammered the major-domo, "he is very poorly dressed, and
besides, what was he doing in the garden?"
Lady Beltham was recovering her calm.
"What excuse did he give for being there?" she asked coldly.
"We didn't give him time to invent one," said the major-domo. "We
collared him almost as soon as we saw him. And you know, madame, how
tremendously powerful Walter is: Walter gave him all he deserved!" and
the major-domo clenched his fists and made an expressive exhibition of
the porter's reception of the stranger.
Lisbeth was still overcome by what she had seen.
"Oh, the blood!" she muttered hysterically; "it was streaming!"
Lady Beltham spoke angrily to the major-domo.
"I hate brutality: is the man seriously hurt? I hope not. You ought to
have questioned him before assaulting him. No one in my house has a
right to use violence. 'Whoso smites with the sword shall perish by the
sword'!"
The major-domo heard her in silent astonishment: it was not at all what
he expected to be told, in view of all the circumstances.
Lady Beltham went on more gently:
"I suppose I shall have to apologise to this man for your wrong and
thoughtless behaviour."
"Apologise?" exclaimed Silbertown in amazement. "Surely your ladyship
will not do that?"
"One must not shrink from humiliation when one has been in the wrong,"
said Lady Beltham, in the pulpit manner she affected. "Tell Walter to
come to me."
A few minutes later the porter, a muscular giant of a man, came into the
room and made a clumsy bow.
"How was it possible for anyone to get into the house at this time of
night?" his mistress enquired coldly.
Walter dropped his eyes and twisted his cap nervously.
"I hope your ladyship will forgive me. I caught the fellow, and as he
was struggling I hit him. Then two of the footmen came, and they are
looking after him in the kitchen."
"Has he given any explanation of his presence here since you assaulted
him--at which I am very angry?" said Lady Beltham.
"He hasn't said anything; at least----"
"Well?"
"I don't like to tell you."
"Please do like!" said Lady Beltham irritably.
"Well," Walter replied, overcoming his nervousness with an effort, "he
says your ladyship is well known for your charity to everybody, and--he
wants to see you."
There was a moment's pause.
"I will see him," said Lady Beltham at last, in a half-stifled voice.
"Will your ladyship allow me to point out the danger of doing any such
thing?" Silbertown exclaimed. "Very likely the man is a lunatic! Or it
may be a trick: Lord Beltham was murdered, and perhaps----"
Lady Beltham looked intently at the major-domo, seemingly trying to read
his thoughts. Then she answered slowly:
"I will see him. I will be more pitiful than you," and as the major-domo
and the porter made a gesture of futile protest, she added peremptorily:
"I have given my orders: kindly obey."
When the two men had reluctantly left the room, Lady Beltham turned to
the three girls.
"You had better leave me, darlings," she said, kindly but firmly. "Run
away: excitement is bad for you. Go back to bed. No, I assure you I
shall be in no danger whatever," and for a few minutes she was left
alone.
* * * * *
"Speak," said Lady Beltham in a toneless voice.
The major-domo and the porter had led in, and placed before her, a man
with unkempt hair and ragged beard; he was dressed entirely in black,
and his face was tired and haggard. Lady Beltham, ghastly pale, was
leaning for support against the back of an arm-chair. The man did not
raise his eyes to her.
"I will not speak unless we are alone," he answered dully.
"Alone?" said Lady Beltham, fighting down her emotion. "Then it is
something serious you have to tell me?"
"If you know anything of people in misfortune, Madame," the man answered
gently, "you know that they do not like to humiliate themselves
before--before those who cannot understand," and he nodded towards the
major-domo and the porter.
"I do know something of misfortune," Lady Beltham replied, in firmer
tones; "and I will hear you alone." She looked at her two servants.
"Leave us, please."
The major-domo started.
"Leave you alone with him? It's madness!" and as Lady Beltham merely
looked at him in haughty surprise, he began to withdraw in confusion,
but still protesting. "It's--it's---- Your ladyship has no idea what
this fellow wants: do please----"
But Lady Beltham curtly cut him short.
"That is enough!"
A heavy velvet curtain fell over the closing door, and in the room, that
was dimly lighted by a small electric lamp, Lady Beltham was alone with
the strange individual to whom she had so readily, so oddly, consented
to accord a private interview. She followed her servants to the door and
locked it after them. Then with a sudden movement she sprang towards the
man, who was standing motionless in the middle of the room following
her with his eyes, and flung herself into his arms.
"Oh, Gurn, my darling, my darling!" she cried. "I love you! I love you,
darling!" She looked up at him and saw blood upon his forehead. "Good
God! The brutes have hurt you! What pain you must be in! Give me your
eyes, your lips!" With kisses from her own lips she stanched the blood
that was trickling down his cheeks, and with her fingers she smoothed
his hair. "I am so happy!" she murmured, and broke off again. "But you
are mad! Why, why come here like this, and let yourself be caught and
tortured so?"
Moodily Gurn answered, returning kiss for kiss.
"Time has been so long without you! And this evening I was prowling
round and saw a light. I thought that every one would be asleep--except
you, of course. And so I came straight to you, over walls, and
gates--drawn to you like a moth to a candle: and that is all!"
With shining eyes and heaving breast Lady Beltham clung to her lover.
"I love you so! How brave you are! Yes, I am wholly, only yours. But
this is madness! You might be arrested and given up to no one knows what
horror, without my knowing!"
Gurn seemed to be hypnotised by the fierce and passionate love of this
great lady.
"I never gave that a thought," he murmured. "I only thought of you!"
Silence fell upon these tragic lovers as they stood reading love in one
another's eyes, and recalling memories common to both, utterly unlike as
they were to outward seeming, yet linked by the strongest bond of all,
the bond of love.
"What happy hours we lived together out there!" Lady Beltham whispered.
Her thoughts had wandered to the far Transvaal and the battle-field
where first she had set eyes on Gurn, the sergeant of artillery with
powder-blackened face; and then to the homeward voyage on the mighty
steamer that bore them across the blue sea, towards the dull white
cliffs of England.
Gurn's thoughts followed hers.
"Out there! Yes; and then on the vast ocean, on the ship homeward bound!
The quiet and peace of it all! And our meetings every day: our long,
long talks, and longer silences--in the clear starlight of those
tropical skies! We were learning to know each other----"
"We were learning to love each other," she said. "And then--London, and
Paris, and all the fever of life threatening our love. But that is the
strongest thing in the world: and--do you remember? Oh, the ecstasy of
it all! But, do you remember too what you did for me--through
me--thirteen months ago?"
She had risen, and with white lips and haggard eyes held Gurn's hands
within her own in an even tighter grip. Emotion choked her further
utterance.
"Yes, I remember," Gurn went on slowly: "it was in our little room in
the rue Lévert, and I was on my knees beside you when the door opened
quietly, and there stood Lord Beltham, mad with rage and jealousy!"
"I don't know what happened then," Lady Beltham whispered in a hopeless
undertone, drooping her head again.
"I do," muttered Gurn. "His eyes sought you, and a pistol was pointed at
your heart! He would have fired, but I sprang and struck him down! And
then I strangled him!"
Lady Beltham's eyes were fixed on the man's hands, that she still held
between her own.
"And I saw the muscles in these hands swell up beneath the skin as they
tightened on his throat!"
"I killed him!" groaned the man.
But Lady Beltham, swept by a surge of passion, sprang up and sought his
lips.
"Oh, Gurn!" she sobbed--"my darling!"
* * * * *
"Listen," said Gurn harshly, after a pause of anxious silence. "I had to
see you to-night, for who knows if to-morrow----" Lady Beltham shrank at
the words, but Gurn went on unheeding. "The police are after me. Of
course I have made myself almost unrecognisable, but twice just lately I
have been very nearly caught."
"Do you think the police have any accurate idea of what happened?" Lady
Beltham asked abruptly.
"No," said Gurn after a moment's hesitation. "They think I killed him
with the mallet. They have not found out that I had to strangle him. As
far as I know, they found no marks of my hands on his throat. At all
events, they could not have been clear, for his collar--you understand."
The man spoke of his crime without the least sign of remorse or
repugnance now; his only dread was lest he should be caught. "But, none
the less, they have identified me. That detective Juve is very clever."
"We did not have enough presence of mind," Lady Beltham said
despairingly. "We ought to have led them to suspect someone else: have
made them think that it was, say, Fantômas."
"Not that!" said Gurn nervously; "don't talk about Fantômas! We did all
we could. But the main thing now is that I should escape them. I had
better get away,--across the Channel,--across the Atlantic,--anywhere.
But--would you come too?"
Lady Beltham did not hesitate. She flung her arms around the neck of the
man who had murdered her own husband, and yielded to a paroxysm of wild
passion.
"You know that I am yours, wherever you may go. Shall it be to-morrow?
We can meet--you know where--and arrange everything for your flight."
"My flight?" said Gurn, with reproachful emphasis on the pronoun.
"For our flight," she replied, and Gurn smiled again.
"Then that is settled," he said. "I have seen you, and I am happy!
Good-bye."
He made a step towards the door, but Lady Beltham stayed him gently.
"Wait," she said. "Walter shall let you out of the house. Do not say
anything: I will explain; I will invent some story to satisfy the
servants as to your coming here, and also to justify your being allowed
to go."
They clung to one another in a parting caress. Lady Beltham tore herself
away.
"Till to-morrow!" she whispered.
She stole to the door and unlocked it noiselessly, then crossed the room
and rang the bell placed near the fireplace. Resuming her impassive
mask, and the haughty air and attitude of cold indifference that were in
such utter contrast to her real character, she waited, while Gurn stood
upright and still in the middle of the room.
Walter, the porter, came in.
"Take that man to the door, and let no harm be done to him," said Lady
Beltham proudly and authoritatively. "He is free."
Without a word, or sign, or glance, Gurn went out of the room, and
Walter followed behind him to obey his mistress's command.
* * * * *
Once more alone in the great hall, Lady Beltham waited nervously to hear
the sound of the park gate closing behind Gurn. She did not dare go on
to the balcony to follow her departing lover with her eyes. So, shaken
by her recent emotions, she stood waiting and listening, in an agony to
know that he was safe. Then, of a sudden, the noise that she had heard
an hour before broke on her ears again: the noise of hurrying feet and
broken shouts, and words, vague at first but rapidly growing clearer.
She crouched forward listening, filled with a horrible fear, her hand
laid upon her scarcely beating heart.
"There he is: hold him!" some one shouted. "That's him all right! Look
out, constable!"
"This way, Inspector! Yes, it's him, it's Gurn! Ah, would you!"
Paler than death, Lady Beltham cowered down upon a sofa.
"Good God! Good God!" she moaned. "What are they doing to him!"
The uproar in the garden decreased, then voices sounded in the corridor,
Silbertown's exclamations rising above the frightened cries of the three
young girls.
"Gurn! Arrested! The man who murdered Lord Beltham!" Lisbeth called out
in anxious terror.
"But Lady Beltham? Dear God, perhaps he has murdered her too!"
The door was flung open and the girls rushed in. Lady Beltham by a
tremendous effort of will had risen to her feet, and was standing by the
end of the sofa.
"Lady Beltham! Alive! Yes, yes!" and Thérèse and Lisbeth and Susannah
rushed sobbing to her, and smothered her with caresses.
But the agonised woman motioned them away. With hard eyes and set mouth
she moved towards the window, straining her ears to listen. From the
park outside Gurn's voice rang distinctly; the lover wished to let his
mistress know what had happened, and to take a last farewell.
"I am caught, I am caught! Yes, I am Gurn, and I am caught!"
The fatal words were still ringing in Lady Beltham's ears when the
major-domo, Silbertown, came bursting into the room, with radiant face
and shining eyes and smiling lips, and hurried to his mistress.
"I thought as much!" he exclaimed excitedly. "It was the villain all
right. I recognised him from the description, in spite of his beard. I
informed the police! As a matter of fact they have been watching for the
last two days. Just fancy, your ladyship, a detective was shadowing
Gurn--and when he was going out of the house I gave him the signal!"
Lady Beltham stared at the major-domo in mute horror.
"Yes?" she muttered, on the point of swooning.
"I pointed him out to the police, and it's thanks to me, your ladyship,
that Gurn, the murderer, has been arrested at last!"
For just another moment Lady Beltham stared at the man who gave her
these appalling tidings, seemed to strive to utter something, then fell
prone to the floor, unconscious.
The major-domo and the girls sprang to her side to lavish attentions
upon her.
At that moment the door was pushed a little way open, and the figure of
Juve appeared.
"May I come in?" said he.