"That's true, m'sieur. But, you see, I know the way to tell fibs as
well as most people. I haven't been maid to mademoiselle without
contriving to learn a few tricks. I was taught them when I first
entered her service; now they come quite naturally."
"So it seems," he said, with an amused smile. "But, tell me, how do
matters stand down at the country mansion? Is all serene?"
"Quite. Mademoiselle's new husband is such a mild-mannered young man,
and has suspected absolutely nothing from the first. He's madly
infatuated with her, and she can twist him round her little finger."
"Now, speaking candidly, Nanette," asked the captain, after a few
moments' silence, "have you any idea what object she had in marrying
him?"
"None; I'm as ignorant as yourself. It seems unaccountable, yet you may
rest assured she had some very good reason for such a step."
"Of course, Trethowen has money, yet somehow I don't believe that her
sole object was to become the wife of a rich man. It is a matter that
has puzzled me ever since I heard of the match," observed the captain
thoughtfully.
In truth, he was the reverse of sorry that his wife had entered into the
alliance. Providing Hugh really loved Valerie, he saw there was a
possibility of obtaining hush-money from him, as it was certain he would
avoid the scandal which would inevitably result if his wife were
prosecuted for bigamy.
Nanette, although unacquainted with many of her mistress's schemes,
nevertheless knew so much that it would have been highly undesirable
that any disagreement should occur between them. She was saucy and
self-confident, yet discreet and--when occasion required--a model maid.
"You should be happy, m'sieur, now that you have obtained your divorce,
and can live _en garcon_ again," she remarked, her eyes sparkling with
_diablerie_.
"So I am, Nanette," he replied with a smile. "Everything has come off
just as I arranged that it should. In the judgment of a fool there are
no wise men. To-night you must return to Coombe, and your mistress will
pay you the money that was agreed. You might tell her that, the
business being so far concluded, she may expect a visit from me in the
course of a day or two, when I hope we shall be able to close the
incident."
"Very well. I'll give her your message," replied the girl. "But you
will not call upon her at Coombe? Surely that would be unwise," she
suggested in concern.
"I haven't yet decided whether I shall go there or not. It all depends
upon circumstances," he answered rather abruptly.
Then they turned into a restaurant for luncheon, and the captain
celebrated the occasion with a bottle of Pommery, which Nanette assisted
him to drink.
A week had passed.
Before a large fire in the private parlour of the Ship Hotel, at Bude,
Percy Willoughby sat with legs stretched out and feet upon the fender.
The ancient hostelry, which, although styled a hotel, was merely an inn,
stood in a somewhat sheltered position under the rocks, and faced the
sea. Fishermen were its chief customers, but on this particular night
the smacks were out, and the place was comparatively quiet, with the
exception of two loungers, who were holding a noisy argument in the bar.
The room was low, with heavy oak beams across a ceiling blackened by
the smoke of years, a sanded floor, a wide old-fashioned hearth, and
straight-backed wooden chairs that had evidently done duty for a
century. A tall, antiquated clock ticked solemnly in a corner, and the
efforts at ornamentation were mostly in the form of shell-boxes and
faded wool-flowers.
The wind moaned dismally in the chimney, and aroused the captain from
his reverie.
"I suppose she'll come," he murmured aloud, as he rose, and, going to
the window, drew back the curtain. The night was dark and cloudy.
Nothing could be seen except the distant flashing light at sea, which
glimmered for a moment like a star and disappeared. "The weather is
certainly not very propitious, and I'm afraid if I went out alone in
this confoundedly dark hole I should lose myself. But of course she'll
come," he added reassuringly. "She dare not disappoint me." And he
dashed the curtains together again and returned to his chair.
A few minutes afterwards Valerie entered. She wore a long fur-lined
cloak, and a thick dark veil concealed her features.
"At last I'm here," she said glancing round, as if half fearful lest she
should be recognised, and walking over to the fire, she warmed her
benumbed hands. "It was by the merest chance that I was able to come.
We've been dining with some people about a mile away, and I at last
managed to slip out."
As she loosened her cloak he noticed that underneath she wore a charming
toilet of pale blue silk.
"Well," he said, after they had greeted one another and seated
themselves before the fire. "The affair we planned at Spa has proved
successful, Valerie, and we're man and wife no longer."
"And an excellent thing, too," she remarked, ridiculing his sentimental
tone.
"I entirely agree with you; we are much better apart. Nevertheless,
although we are divorced, there surely is no reason why we should not
remain friends, is there?" he asked, speaking in French.
"Oh, there's no harm in that, I suppose," she replied in the same
language, laughing lightly. "I saw from the papers that you obtained
the decree, and Nanette gave me a most graphic description of the
hearing of the case. It must have been highly entertaining. I should
so much liked to have been there."
"It certainly was a trifle diverting," the captain admitted; "but let's
get to business. Have you brought the money?"
"No."
"What?--you haven't?" he cried in dismay. "Then why have you brought me
down to this infernal hole?"
"For the benefit of your health," she replied with tantalising coquetry.
"I want the money," he declared angrily.
"If you'll be patient, and allow me to speak, I'll explain."
"I want none of your excuses; nothing but the money. In dealing with
me, Mrs. Trethowen, you'll have to play fair, or, by heaven! it will be
the worse for you. Bear that in mind."
"Neither my intention nor desire is to deceive you," she replied
haughtily; "but since you cannot talk without abuse, perhaps a week
longer without your money will cause you to be more polite." And she
rose and made a movement towards the door.
"Where do you think you're going?" he exclaimed roughly, rushing to the
door and standing with his back against it. "I've come down here to be
paid for the service I've rendered you at the risk of being prosecuted
myself, and therefore you don't leave this room until I have the money."
His face was blanched with anger, and he spoke with determination. She
had seen his countenance wear a similar look on more than one occasion,
and knew that when in such a mood he was not to be trifled with.
"But you won't let me explain, Percy," she complained in a softened
tone. "Do be reasonable."
"I am. I want the thousand pounds you promised."
"Hush," she said, holding up a finger. "We might be overheard!"
"Never mind. Do you intend to pay me?" he asked in a lower tone.
"Yes, but not all now. I'm really hard up, otherwise you should have
every penny I promised."
"Oh, that's nonsense. You can get money from that confiding husband of
yours, if you like--"
"But I don't like, so there's the difference," she interrupted. "I know
my own business best."
"How much can you give me?"
"Two hundred pounds."
"Pooh! I'm not going to accept that," said he decisively. "What next?
If you offered me five hundred as the first instalment, I might feel
disposed to take it."
"Take it or leave it, you'll get no more just now."
"Look here," he cried fiercely, standing before her in a threatening
attitude. "Do you think I'm going to be made sport of in this manner?
If so, you've made a huge mistake. I want the money and I mean to have
it. If you won't give it to me, then I shall be under the necessity of
requesting a loan from your husband. That would queer your delightful
little game, wouldn't it--eh?"
She drew a long breath, and for an instant the colour left her face.
Nevertheless, it took more than a threat of that kind to disconcert her.
"You are at liberty to do even that," she answered, with a sardonic
smile. "But you would be the sufferer, I'm thinking."
"I want none of your trickery. Pay me, and you'll never hear of me
again."
"If I could believe that, it would relieve my mind very considerably,"
she observed with candour. "The facts are these: the whole of the money
I have been able to scrape together only amounts to two hundred pounds.
I admit it is but a small proportion of my debt, yet I think it should
satisfy your present needs. Just now I cannot ask my husband for a
large sum, as I can think of no excuse for wanting it."
"I should think it is the first time you were ever at a loss for a lie,"
he remarked sarcastically.
"It doesn't do to carry imposition too far. I flatter myself I know
when and where to draw the line."
"I've some plans in hand, and must have five hundred pounds to carry
them out. Not a penny less will be of any use to me."
"But I tell you I can't give it to you."
"Then I must get it from another source, that's all," he declared,
selecting a cigarette from his case, and assuming an air of unconcern.
"Come, enough of this," she exclaimed petulantly; "I cannot stay here
half the night arguing with you." Putting her hand into the breast of
her dress she drew forth some bank-notes. There were four, each for
fifty pounds. "Will you take these or not?" she asked, offering them to
him.
"Don't I tell you they're no use? I must have twice as much."
"Then, I'm sorry I can't oblige you, and will wish you _bon soir_," she
replied, with a mock curtsey.
"Why do you play with me like this?" he cried in anger, gripping her
roughly by the arm. "I want five hundred pounds, and I'll have it
before you leave this place."
"How is that possible when I do not possess it? Do talk sense."
"I'm talking sense. You have it; you can give it me if you choose."
"What do you mean?"
"The diamonds you are wearing. They're worth that, I suppose."
She hesitated, and holding her wrist to the dull lamplight revealed the
diamond bangles which sparkled and flashed as she moved. His proposal
was somewhat disconcerting, for the bracelets, as well as the necklet
she was wearing, were a portion of Hugh's wedding gifts. She was
puzzled to know how she should account for them if she yielded to the
man's inexorable demands.
"I cannot. My husband would inquire what had become of them. What
could I say? If I told him they were lost he would give information to
the police, and you could not get rid of them without some ugly
revelations resulting."
"It's no use arguing. I mean to have them."
He had taken the notes and thrust them carelessly into his vest pocket.
"No, my dear Percy, the thing's impossible."
"Nonsense," he cried fiercely, at the same time making a sudden snatch
at the row of gleaming stones which encircled her white neck. When she
saw his intention she put both hands up in an endeavour to prevent him,
and gave vent to a slight scream.
But she was powerless. The clasp snapped, and the necklet was a moment
later in his pocket.
"Return that at once," she cried, stamping her foot with rage. "If you
don't I'll tell the police you've robbed me."
The captain stuck his hands into his pockets and laughed.
"Go and tell them, my dear," he said. "We should make an interesting
pair before the magistrate."
"I never thought you were such a coward as to rob a woman," observed
she, with indignant disgust, after demanding the return of her necklet
several times, and being met with blank refusal.
"My dear Valerie," he replied coolly, "you needn't be surprised. When I
want money, I'm ready to do anything in order to get it. But it's
getting late," he continued, glancing at the clock. "Isn't it almost
time you were at home?"
His bitter sarcasm maddened her. She did not speak for a few moments.
"I've had an illustration to-night of your fair dealing, Captain
Willoughby," she said in a low, harsh voice, her face flushed with
passion. "When I met you I meant to pay the amount I arranged, but now
you've taken my jewellery from me by force, and acted as the scoundrel
you are, not another farthing shall you have--"
"Oh, won't I? You'll pay up when I come to you next time."
"We shall see," she said meaningly; and, drawing her cloak around her,
she pulled down her veil and left the room, banging the door after her.
She knew her way out, for it was evident that it was not the first time
she had been there.
When alone, the captain reseated himself, and, taking the necklet from
his pocket, examined it carefully with the eye of a connoisseur.
"Humph," he murmured to himself, "they seem well-matched stones. I
shall ask old Vlieger two hundred and fifty for it, and he'll send it
over to Amsterdam and get it out of the way in case any inquiries are
made. You've had a very profitable evening, Percy, my boy--very
profitable."