Johnny was alone in the lower garden, huddled up on a corner of the
marble bench, out of sight but not out of hearing of the guests who
were assembling on the lawn. He had to think, and think quickly.
Marney knew! But Marney had not told, and Johnny guessed why.
When had Jeff Legge told her? On the way back from the church,
perhaps. She would not let Peter know--Peter, who believed her future
assured, her happiness beyond question. What had Jeff said? Not much,
Johnny guessed. He had given her just a hint that the charming Major
Floyd she had known was not the Major Floyd with whom she was to live.
Johnny was cool now--icy cold was a better description. He must be
sure, absolutely sure, beyond any question of doubt. There might be
some resemblance between Jeff Legge and this Major Floyd. He had only
seen the crook once, and that at a distance.
He heard the rustle of skirts and looked round quickly. It was the
maid he had seen quarrelling with Barney.
“Mr. Kane says, would you care to be in the group that is being
photographed, Captain Gray?” she asked.
He did not immediately reply. His eyes were scanning her with a new
interest.
“Tell him I’d rather not, and come back.”
“Come back, sir?” she repeated in astonishment.
“Yes, I want to talk to you,” said Johnny with a smile. “Have mercy on
a disgruntled guest, who can find nobody to entertain him.”
She stood, hesitating. He could see the indecision in her face.
“I don’t know if Mr. Kane would like that,” she said, and a smile
trembled at the corner of her mouth. “Very well, I’ll come back.”
It was not till ten minutes later, when he judged the photograph had
been taken and the guests had gone again to the house, that she
appeared, demure but curious.
“Sit down,” said Johnny. He threw away his cigarette and moved to the
end of the stone bench.
“Don’t stop smoking for me, Captain Gray,” she said.
“How long have you been here?” he asked.
“With Mr. Kane? About six months,” she said.
“Pretty good job?” he asked carelessly.
“Oh, yes, sir, very.”
“What is your name?”
“My name is Lila. Why do you ask?”
“I think you and I ought to get better acquainted, Lila,” he said, and
took her unresisting hand.
Secretly she was amused; on the surface she showed some sign of being
shocked.
“I didn’t know you were that type of flirting man, Mr. Gray--you’re a
Captain, though, aren’t you?”
“‘Captain’ is a purely honorary title, Lila,” said Johnny. “I suppose
you’ll miss your lady?”
“Yes, I shall miss her,” said Lila.
“A nice girl, eh?” bantered Johnny.
“And a very nice husband,” she said tartly.
“Do you think so?”
“Yes, I suppose he is a nice fellow. I don’t know much about him.”
“Good-looking?” suggested Johnny.
The woman shrugged her shoulders.
“I suppose he is.”
“And very much in love with Miss Kane. That fellow adores her,” said
Johnny. “In fact, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a man so much in
love with a woman.”
She suppressed a sigh.
“Oh, yes, I suppose he is,” she said impatiently. “Do you want me any
more, Captain Gray, because I’ve a lot of work to do?”
“Don’t run away,” said Johnny in his most gentle voice. “Weddings
always make me romantic.” He took up the thread where it was
interrupted. “I don’t expect the Major will have eyes for any other
girl for years,” he said. “He’s head over heels in love, and why
shouldn’t he be? I suppose,” he said reminiscently, avoiding her eyes,
“he is the sort of man who would have had many love affairs in the
past.” He shrugged his shoulders. “With the kind of girls that one
picks up and puts down at pleasure.”
Now a flush, deep and even, had come to her face, and her eyes held a
peculiar brightness.
“I don’t know anything about Major Floyd,” she said shortly, and was
rising, but his hand fell upon her arm.
“Don’t run away, Lila.”
“I’m not going to stay,” she said with sudden vehemence. “I don’t want
to discuss Major Floyd or anybody else. If you want me to talk to
you----”
“I want to talk to you about the honeymoon. Can’t you picture them,
say, on Lake Como, in a bower of roses? Can’t you imagine him
forgetting all that’s past, all the old follies, all the old
girls----?”
She wrenched her arm from his grip and stood up, and her face was
deadly white.
“What are you getting at, Gray?” she asked, all the deference, all the
demureness gone from her voice.
“I’m getting at you, Miss Lila Sain,” he said, “and if you attempt to
get away from me, I’ll throttle you!”
She stared at him, her breath coming quickly.
“You’re supposed to be a gentleman, too,” she said.
“I’m supposed to be Johnny Gray from Dartmoor. Sit down. What’s the
graft, Lila?”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
“What’s the graft?” asked Johnny with deadly calm. “Jeff Legge put you
here to nose the house for him, and keep him wise as to what was going
on.”
“I don’t know Jeff Legge,” she faltered.
“You’re a liar,” said Johnny ungently. “I know you, Lila. You run with
Legge and you’re a cheap squeak. I’ve seen you a dozen times. Who is
Major Floyd?”
“Go and ask him,” she said defiantly.
“Who is Major Floyd?”
The grip on her arm tightened.
“You know,” she said sullenly. “It’s Jeff Legge.”
“Now listen, Lila. Come here.” He had released her, and now he crooked
his finger. “Go and blow to Jeff, and I’ll squeak on you both--you
understand that? I’ll put Jeff just where I want him to be--there’s a
vacant cell at Dartmoor, anyway. That gives you a twinge, doesn’t it?
You’re keen on Jeff?”
She did not reply.
“I’ll put him where I want him to be,” he repeated slowly and
deliberately, “unless you do as I tell you.”
“You’re going to put the ‘black’ on him?” she said, her lips curling.
“‘Black’ doesn’t mean anything in my young life,” said Johnny. “But I
tell you this, that I’ll find Reeder and squeak a whole pageful unless
I have my way.”
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I want to know where they’re going, and where they’re staying. I want
to know their plans for the future. Are you married to him, by any
chance?”
A glance at her face gave him the answer.
“You’re not? Well, you may be yet, Lila. Aren’t you tired of doing his
dirty work?”
“Perhaps I am and perhaps I’m not,” she replied defiantly. “You can do
nothing to him now, anyway, Johnny Gray. He’s got your girl, and if
you squeaked like a garden of birds you couldn’t undo what that old
God-man did this morning! Jeff’s too clever for you. He’ll get you,
Gray----”
“If he knows,” said Johnny quietly. “But if he knows, Reeder knows
too. Do you get that?”
“What are you going to do?” she asked after a silence.
“I’m having one of my little jokes,” said Johnny between his teeth. “A
real good joke! It is starting now. I can’t tell Peter, because he’d
kill your young man, and I have a particular objection to Peter going
to the drop. And _you_ can’t tell Jeff, because there’d be a case for
a jury, and when Jeff came out you’d be an old woman. That’s not a
good prospect, eh? Now tell me all you’ve got to tell, and speak
slowly, because I don’t write shorthand.”
He whipped a small notebook from his pocket, and as she spoke,
reluctantly, sulkily, yet fearfully, he wrote rapidly. When he had
finished:
“You can go now, my gentle child,” he said, and she stood up, her eyes
blazing with rage.
“If you squeak, Johnny Gray, I’ll kill you. I never was keen on this
marriage business--naturally. I knew old Legge wanted him to marry
Peter’s daughter, because Legge wanted to get one back on him. But
Jeff’s been good to me; and the day the busies come for Legge I’ll
come for you, and I’ll shoot you stone dead, Johnny, as God’s my
judge!”
“Beat it!” said Johnny tersely.
He waited till she was gone through one of the openings in the box
hedge, then passed along to the other and stopped. Peter Kane was
standing in the open, shielded from view by the thin box bush, and
Peter’s face was inscrutable.