"I MAKE NO PROMISE"
A single glance from Mr. Sabin into Wolfenden's face was sufficient.
Under his breath he swore a small, quiet oath. Wolfenden's appearance
was unlooked for, and almost fatal, yet that did not prevent him from
greeting his visitor with his usual ineffusive but well bred courtesy.
"I am finishing a late breakfast," he remarked. "Can I offer you
anything--a glass of claret or Benedictine?"
Wolfenden scarcely heard him, and answered altogether at random. He had
suddenly become aware that Helene was in the room; she was coming
towards him from the window recess, with a brilliant smile upon her
lips.
"How very kind of you to look us up so early!" she exclaimed.
Mr. Sabin smiled grimly as he poured himself out a liqueur and lit a
cigarette. He was perfectly well aware that Wolfenden's visit was not
one of courtesy; a single glance into his face had told him all that he
cared to know. It was fortunate that Helene had been in the room. Every
moment's respite he gained was precious.
"Have you come to ask me to go for a drive in that wonderful vehicle?"
she said lightly, pointing out of the window to where his dogcart was
waiting. "I should want a step-ladder to mount it!"
Wolfenden answered her gravely.
"I should feel very honoured at being allowed to take you for a drive at
any time," he said, "only I think that I would rather bring a more
comfortable carriage."
She shrugged her shoulders, and looked at him significantly.
"The one you were driving yesterday?"
He bit his lip and frowned with vexation, yet on the whole, perhaps, he
did not regret her allusion. It was proof that she had not taken the
affair too seriously.
"The one I was driving yesterday would be a great deal more
comfortable," he said; "to-day I only thought of getting here quickly. I
have a little business with Mr. Sabin."
"Is that a hint for me to go?" she asked. "You are not agreeable this
morning! What possible business can you have with my uncle which does
not include me? I am not inclined to go away; I shall stay and listen."
Mr. Sabin smiled faintly; the girl was showing her sense now at any
rate. Wolfenden was obviously embarrassed. Helene remained blandly
unconscious of anything serious.
"I suppose," she said, "that you want to talk golf again! Golf! Why one
hears nothing else but golf down here. Don't you ever shoot or ride for
a change?"
Wolfenden was suddenly assailed by an horrible suspicion. He could
scarcely believe that her unconsciousness was altogether natural. At the
bare suspicion of her being in league with this man he stiffened. He
answered without looking at her, conscious though he was that her dark
eyes were seeking his invitingly, and that her lips were curving into a
smile.
"I am not thinking of playing golf to-day," he said. "Unfortunately I
have less pleasant things to consider. If you could give me five
minutes, Mr. Sabin," he added, "I should be very glad."
She rose immediately with all the appearance of being genuinely
offended; there was a little flush in her cheeks and she walked straight
to the door. Wolfenden held it open for her.
"I am exceedingly sorry to have been in the way for a moment," she said;
"pray proceed with your business at once."
Wolfenden did not answer her. As she passed through the doorway she
glanced up at him; he was not even looking at her. His eyes were fixed
upon Mr. Sabin. The fingers which rested upon the door knob seemed
twitching with impatience to close it. She stood quite still for a
moment; the colour left her cheeks, and her eyes grew soft. She was not
angry any longer. Instinctively some idea of the truth flashed in upon
her; she passed out thoughtfully. Wolfenden closed the door and turned
to Mr. Sabin.
"You can easily imagine the nature of my business," he said coldly. "I
have come to have an explanation with you."
Mr. Sabin lit a fresh cigarette and smiled on Wolfenden thoughtfully.
"Certainly," he said; "an explanation! Exactly!"
"Well," said Wolfenden, "suppose you commence, then."
Mr. Sabin looked puzzled.
"Had you not better be a little more explicit?" he suggested gently.
"I will be," Wolfenden replied, "as explicit as you choose. My mother
has given me her whole confidence. I have come to ask how you dare to
enter Deringham Hall as a common burglar attempting to commit a theft;
and to demand that you instantly return to me a letter, on which you
have attempted to levy blackmail. Is that explicit enough?"
Mr. Sabin's face did not darken, nor did he seem in any way angry or
discomposed. He puffed at his cigarette for a moment or two, and then
looked blandly across at his visitor.
"You are talking rubbish," he said in his usual calm, even tones, "but
you are scarcely to blame. It is altogether my own fault. It is quite
true that I was in your house last night, but it was at your mother's
invitation, and I should very much have preferred coming openly at the
usual time, to sneaking in according to her directions through a window.
It was only a very small favour I asked, but Lady Deringham persuaded me
that your father's mental health and antipathy to strangers was such
that he would never give me the information I desired, voluntarily, and
it was entirely at her suggestion that I adopted the means I did. I am
very sorry indeed that I allowed myself to be over-persuaded and placed
in an undoubtedly false position. Women are always nervous and
imaginative, and I am convinced that if I had gone openly to your father
and laid my case before him he would have helped me."
"He would have done nothing of the sort!" Wolfenden declared. "Nothing
would induce him to show even a portion of his work to a stranger."
Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders gently, and continued without heeding
the interruption.
"As to my blackmailing Lady Deringham, you have spoken plainly to me,
and you must forgive me for answering you in the same fashion. It is a
lie! I had letters of hers, which I voluntarily destroyed in her
presence; they were only a little foolish, or I should have destroyed
them long ago. I had the misfortune to be once a favoured suitor for
your mother's hand; and I think I may venture to say--I am sure she will
not contradict me--that I was hardly treated. The only letter I ever had
from her likely to do her the least harm I destroyed fifteen years ago,
when I first embarked upon what has been to a certain extent a career
of adventure. I told her that it was not in the packet which we burnt
together yesterday. If she understood from that that it was still in my
possession, and that I was retaining it for any purpose whatever, she
was grievously mistaken in my words. That is all I have to say."
He had said it very well indeed. Wolfenden, listening intently to every
word, with his eyes rigidly fixed upon the man's countenance, could not
detect a single false note anywhere. He was puzzled. Perhaps his mother
had been nervously excited, and had mistaken some sentence of his for a
covert threat. Yet he thought of her earnestness, her terrible
earnestness, and a sense of positive bewilderment crept over him.
"We will leave my mother out of the question then," he said. "We will
deal with this matter between ourselves. I should like to know exactly
what part of my father's work you are so anxious to avail yourself of,
and for what purpose?"
Mr. Sabin drew a letter from his pocket, and handed it over to
Wolfenden. It was from the office of one of the first European Reviews,
and briefly contained a request that Mr. Sabin would favour them with an
article on the comparative naval strengths of European Powers, with
particular reference to the armament and coast defences of Great
Britain. Wolfenden read it carefully and passed it back. The letter was
genuine, there was no doubt about that.
"It seemed to me," Mr. Sabin continued, "the most natural thing in the
world to consult your father upon certain matters concerning which he
is, or has been, a celebrated authority. In fact I decided to do so at
the instigation of one of the Lords of your Admiralty, to whom he is
personally well known. I had no idea of acting except in the most open
manner, and I called at Deringham Hall yesterday afternoon, and sent in
my card in a perfectly orthodox way, as you may have heard. Your mother
took quite an unexpected view of the whole affair, owing partly to your
father's unfortunate state of health and partly to some extraordinary
attempts which, I am given to understand, have been made to rob him of
his work. She was very anxious to help me, but insisted that it must be
secretly. Last night's business was, I admit, a ghastly mistake--only
it was not my mistake! I yielded to Lady Deringham's proposals under
strong protest. As a man, I think I may say of some intelligence, I am
ashamed of the whole affair; at the same time I am guilty only of an
indiscretion which was sanctioned and instigated by your mother. I
really do not see how I can take any blame to myself in the matter."
"You could scarcely attribute to Lady Deringham," Wolfenden remarked,
"the injury to the watchman."
"I can take but little blame to myself," Mr. Sabin answered promptly.
"The man was drunk; he had been, I imagine, made drunk, and I merely
pushed him out of the way. He fell heavily, but the fault was not mine.
Look at my physique, and remember that I was unarmed, and ask yourself
what mischief I could possibly have done to the fellow."
Wolfenden reflected.
"You appear to be anxious," he said, "to convince me that your desire to
gain access to a portion of my father's papers is a harmless one. I
should like to ask you why you have in your employ a young lady who was
dismissed from Deringham Hall under circumstances of strong suspicion?"
Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
"It is the first time I have heard of anything suspicious connected
with Miss Merton," he said. "She came into my service with excellent
testimonials, and I engaged her at Willing's bureau. The fact that she
had been employed at Deringham Hall was merely a coincidence."
"Was it also a coincidence," Wolfenden continued, "that in reply to a
letter attempting to bribe my father's secretary, Mr. Blatherwick, it
was she, Miss Merton, who kept an appointment with him?"
"That," Mr. Sabin answered, "I know nothing of. If you wish to question
Miss Merton you are quite at liberty to do so; I will send for her."
Wolfenden shook his head.
"Miss Merton was far too clever to commit herself," he said; "she knew
from the first that she was being watched, and behaved accordingly. If
she was not there as your agent, her position becomes more extraordinary
still."
"I can assure you," Mr. Sabin said, with an air of weariness, "that I am
not the man of mystery you seem to think me. I should never dream of
employing such roundabout means for gaining possession of a few
statistics."
Wolfenden was silent. His case was altogether one of surmises; he could
prove nothing.
"Perhaps," he said, "I have been precipitate. It would appear so. But if
I am unduly suspicious, you have yourself only to blame! You admit that
your name is an assumed one. You refuse my suit to your niece without
any reasonable cause. You are evidently, to be frank, a person of much
more importance than you lay claim to be. Now be open with me. If there
is any reason, although I cannot conceive an honest one, for concealing
your identity, why, I will respect your confidence absolutely. You may
rely upon that. Tell me who you are, and who your niece is, and why you
are travelling about in this mysterious way."
Mr. Sabin smiled good-humouredly.
"Well," he said, "you must forgive me if I plead guilty to the false
identity--and preserve it. For certain reasons it would not suit me to
take even you into my confidence. Besides which, if you will forgive my
saying so, there does not seem to be the least necessity for it. We are
leaving here during the week, and shall in all probability go abroad
almost at once; so we are not likely to meet again. Let us part
pleasantly, and abandon a somewhat profitless discussion."
For a moment Wolfenden was staggered. They were leaving England! Going
away! That meant that he would see no more of Helene. His indignation
against the man, kindled almost into passionate anger by his mother's
story, was forgotten, overshadowed by a keen thrill of personal
disappointment. If they were really leaving England, he might bid
farewell to any chance of winning her; and there were certain words of
hers, certain gestures, which had combined to fan that little flame of
hope, which nothing as yet had ever been able to extinguish. He looked
into Mr. Sabin's quiet face, and he was conscious of a sense of
helplessness. The man was too strong and too wily for him; it was an
unequal contest.
"We will abandon the discussion then, if you will," Wolfenden said
slowly. "I will talk with Lady Deringham again. She is in an extremely
nervous state; it is possible of course that she may have misunderstood
you."
Mr. Sabin sighed with an air of gentle relief. Ah! if the men of other
countries were only as easy to delude as these Englishmen! What a
triumphant career might yet be his!
"I am very glad," he said, "that you do me the honour to take, what I
can assure you, is the correct view of the situation. I hope that you
will not hurry away; may I not offer you a cigarette?"
Wolfenden sat down for the first time.
"Are you in earnest," he asked, "when you speak of leaving England so
soon?"
"Assuredly! You will do me the justice to admit that I have never
pretended to like your country, have I? I hope to leave it for several
years, if not for ever, within the course of a few weeks."
"And your niece, Mr. Sabin?"
"She accompanies me, of course; she likes this country even less than I
do. Perhaps, under the circumstances, our departure is the best thing
that could happen; it is at any rate opportune."
"I cannot agree with you," Wolfenden said; "for me it is most
inopportune. I need scarcely say that I have not abandoned my desire to
make your niece my wife."
"I should have thought," Mr. Sabin said, with a fine note of satire in
his tone, "that you would have put far away from you all idea of any
connection with such suspicious personages."
"I have never had," Wolfenden said calmly, "any suspicion at all
concerning your niece."
"She would be, I am sure, much flattered," Mr. Sabin declared. "At the
same time I can scarcely see on what grounds you continue to hope for an
impossibility. My niece's refusal seemed to me explicit enough,
especially when coupled with my own positive prohibition."
"Your niece," Wolfenden said, "is doubtless of age. I should not trouble
about your consent if I could gain hers, and I may as well tell you at
once, that I by no means despair of doing so."
Mr. Sabin bit his lip, and his dark eyes flashed out with a sudden fire.
"I should be glad to know, sir," he said, "on what grounds you consider
my voice in the affair to be ineffective?"
"Partly," Wolfenden answered, "for the reason which I have already given
you--because your niece is of age; and partly also because you persist
in giving me no definite reason for your refusal."
"I have told you distinctly," Mr. Sabin said, "that my niece is
betrothed and will be married within six months."
"To whom? where is he? why is he not here? Your niece wears no
engagement ring. I will answer for it, that if she is as you say
betrothed, it is not of her own free will."
"You talk," Mr. Sabin said with dangerous calm, "like a fool. It is not
customary amongst the class to which my niece belongs to wear always an
engagement ring. As for her affections, she has had, I am glad to say, a
sufficient self-control to keep them to herself. Your presumption is
simply the result of your entire ignorance. I appeal to you for the last
time, Lord Wolfenden, to behave like a man of common sense, and abandon
hopes which can only end in disappointment."
"I have no intention of doing anything of the sort," Wolfenden said
doggedly; "we Englishmen are a pig-headed race, as you were once polite
enough to observe. Your niece is the only woman whom I have wished to
marry, and I shall marry her, if I can."
"I shall make it my especial concern," Mr. Sabin said firmly, "to see
that all intercourse between you ends at once."
Wolfenden rose to his feet.
"It is obviously useless," he said, "to continue this conversation. I
have told you my intentions. I shall pursue them to the best of my
ability. Good-morning."
Mr. Sabin held out his hand.
"I have just a word more to say to you," he declared. "It is about your
father."
"I do not desire to discuss my father, or any other matter with you,"
Wolfenden said quietly. "As to my father's work, I am determined to
solve the mystery connected with it once and for all. I have wired for
Mr. C. to come down, and, if necessary, take possession of the papers.
You can get what information you require from him yourself."
Mr. Sabin rose up slowly; his long, white fingers were clasped around
the head of that curious stick of his. There was a peculiar glint in his
eyes, and his cheeks were pale with passion.
"I am very much obliged to you for telling me that," he said; "it is
valuable information for me. I will certainly apply to Mr. C."
He had been drawing nearer and nearer to Wolfenden. Suddenly he stopped,
and, with a swift movement, raised the stick on which he had been
leaning, over his head. It whirled round in a semi-circle. Wolfenden,
fascinated by that line of gleaming green light, hesitated for a moment,
then he sprang backwards, but he was too late. The head of the stick
came down on his head, his upraised arm did little to break the force of
the blow. He sank to the ground with a smothered groan.