Descending the hill to the loch-side again, I found the carriage road,
and approached the big white house.
I was standing alone in the long, old-fashioned drawing-room, with its
bright chintzes and bowls of potpourri, awaiting Mrs Holbrook, when the
merry pair came in through the long French windows, from the sloping
lawn.
"Why, Uncle Colin!" she gasped, starting and staring at me. "How long
have you been here?"
"Only a few moments," I replied, and then, advancing, I shook Drury's
hand. He looked a fine, handsome fellow in his rough country tweeds.
"So glad to meet you again, Mr Trewinnard," he said frankly, a smile
upon his healthy, bronzed face. "I've heard from Miss Gottorp of your
long journey across Siberia. You've been away months--ever since the
beginning of the winter! I've always had a morbid longing to see
Siberia. It must be a most dreadful place."
"Well, it's hardly a country for pleasure-seeking," I laughed; then
changing my tone, I said: "You two have given me a nice fright! I
returned to find you both missing, and feared lest something awful had
happened to you."
"Fear of something happening caused us to disappear," he answered; then
he practically repeated what Natalia had told me earlier in the day.
"My aunt very kindly offered to put Miss Gottorp up, and I have since
lived down at St Fillans under the name of Gregory."
I told him of the search in progress in order to discover him. But he
declared that a Scotch village or the back streets of a manufacturing
town were the safest places in which to conceal oneself.
"But how long do you two intend causing anxiety to your friends?" I
asked, glancing from one to the other.
Natalia looked at her lover with wide-open eyes of admiration.
"Who knows?" she asked. "Dick has to decide that."
"But Miss West and Davey, and all of them at Hove are distracted," I
said, and then, turning to Drury, added, "Your man in Albemarle Street
and the people at your offices in Westminster are satisfied that you've
met with foul play. You certainly ought to relieve their minds by
making some sign."
"I must, soon," he said. "But meanwhile--" and he turned his eyes upon
his well-beloved meaningly.
"Meanwhile, you are both perfectly happy--eh?"
"Now don't lecture us, Uncle Colin!" cried the little madcap, leaning
over the back of a chair and holding up her finger threateningly; and
then to Dick she added: "Oh! you don't know how horrid my wicked uncle
can be when he likes. He says such caustic things."
"When my niece deserves them--and only then," I assured her lover.
Though Dick Drury was in trade a builder of ships, as his father before
him, he was one of nature's gentlemen. There was nothing of the modern
young man, clean-shaven, over-dressed, with turned-up trousers and
bright socks. He was tall, lithe, strong, well and neatly dressed as
became a man in his station--a man with an income of more than ten
thousand a year, as I had already secretly ascertained.
Had not Natalia been of Imperial birth the match would have been a most
suitable one, for Dick Drury was decidedly one of the eligibles. But
her love was, alas! forbidden, and marriage with a commoner not to be
thought of.
They stood together laughing merrily, he bright, pleasant, and all
unconscious of her true station, while she, sweet and winning, stood
gazing upon him, flushed with pleasure at his presence.
I was describing to Drury the fright I had experienced on arrival in
Brighton to find them both missing, whereupon he interrupted, saying:
"I hope you will forgive us in the circumstances, Mr Trewinnard. Miss
Gottorp resolved to go into hiding until you returned to give her your
advice. Therefore, with my aunt's kind assistance, we managed to
disappear completely."
"My advice is quickly given," I said. "After to-night there will be no
danger, therefore return and relieve the anxiety of your friends."
"But how can you guarantee there is no danger?" asked the young man,
looking at me dubiously. "I confess I'm at a loss to understand the
true meaning of it all--why, indeed, any danger should arise. Miss
Gottorp is so mysterious, she will tell me nothing," he said in a voice
of complaint.
For a moment I was silent.
"There was a danger, Drury--a real imminent danger," I said at last.
"But I can assure you that it is now past. I have taken steps to remove
it, and hope to-morrow morning to receive word by telegraph that it no
longer exists."
"How can you control it?" he queried. "What is its true nature? Tell
me," he urged.
"No, I regret that I cannot satisfy your curiosity. It is--well--it's a
family matter," I said; "therefore forgive me if I refuse to betray a
confidence reposed in me as a friend of the family. It would not be
fair to reveal anything told me in secrecy."
"Of course not," he said. "I fully understand, Mr Trewinnard. Forgive
me for asking. I did not know that the matter was so entirely
confidential."
"It is. But I can assure you that, holding the key to the situation as
I do, and being in a position to dictate terms to Miss Gottorp's
enemies, she need not in future entertain the slightest apprehension.
The danger existed, I admit; but now it is over."
"Then you advise us to return, Uncle Colin?" exclaimed the girl, swaying
herself upon the chair.
"Yes--the day after to-morrow."
"You are always so weirdly mysterious," she declared. "I know you have
something at the back of your mind. Come, admit it."
"I have only your welfare at heart," I assured her.
"Welfare!" she echoed, and as her eyes fixed themselves upon me she bit
her lips. I knew, alas! the bitter trend of her thoughts. But her
lover stood by, all unconscious of the blow which must ere long fall
upon him, poor fellow. I pitied him, for I knew how much he was doomed
to suffer, loving her so fondly and so well. He, of course, believed
her to be a girl of similar social position to himself--a dainty little
friend whom he had first met as a rather gawky schoolgirl at Eastbourne,
and their friendship had now ripened to love.
"I feel that you, Mr Trewinnard, really have our welfare at heart,"
declared the young man earnestly. "I know in what very high esteem Miss
Gottorp holds you, and how she has been awaiting your aid and advice."
"I am her friend, Drury, as I am yours," I declared. "I am aware that
you love each other. I loved once, just as deeply, as fervently as you
do. Therefore--I know."
"But we cannot go south--back to Brighton," the girl declared. "I
refuse."
"Why?" he asked. "Mr Trewinnard has given us the best advice. You
need not now fear these mysterious enemies of yours who seem to haunt
you so constantly."
"Ah!" she cried in a low, wild voice, "you do not know, Dick! You don't
know the truth--all that I fear--all that I suffer--for--for your sake!
Uncle Colin knows."
"For my sake!" he echoed, staring at her. "I don't quite follow you.
What do you mean?"
"I mean," she exclaimed in a low, hoarse voice, drawing herself up and
standing erect, "I mean that you do not know what Uncle Colin is
endeavouring to induce me to do--you do not realise the true tragedy of
my position."
"No, I don't," was his blunt response, his eyes wide-open in surprise.
"Oh, Dick," she cried in despair, her voice trembling with emotion, "he
speaks the truth when he urges me for my own sake to go south--to return
again to Hove. But, alas! if I followed his advice, sound though it is,
it would mean that--that to-morrow we should part for ever!"
"Part!" gasped the young man, his face becoming white in an instant.
"Why?"
"Because--well, simply because all affection between us is forbidden,"
she faltered in a hoarse, half whisper, her beautiful face ashen pale,
"because,"--she gasped, still clinging to the back of the chintz-covered
chair, "because, although we love each other as passionately and as
dearly as we do, we can never marry--never! Between us there exists a
barrier--a barrier strong but invisible, that can never be broken--
never--until the grave!"