Five minutes later, or it might have been less, the brother and sister
stepped out on to the veranda to go to the drawing-room. They had to
turn a corner of the bungalow to reach it, and the moment they did so
Hope stopped dead. A man's voice, shouting curses, came from the open
window; and, with it, the sound of struggling and the sound of
blows--blows delivered with the precision and regularity of a
machine--frightful, swinging blows that sounded like revolver shots.
"What is it?" gasped Hope in terror. "What is it?" But she knew very
well what it was; and Ronnie knew, too.
"You stay here," he said. "I'll go and stop it."
"No, no!" she gasped back. "I am coming with you; I must." She slipped
her cold hand into his, and they ran together towards the commotion.
Reaching the drawing-room window, Ronnie stopped, and put the trembling
girl behind him. But he himself did not enter. He only stood still, with
a cowed look on his face, and waited. In the middle of the room, Baring,
his face set and terrible, stood gripping Hyde by the torn collar of his
coat and thrashing him, deliberately, mercilessly, with his own
riding-whip. How long the punishment had gone on the two at the window
could only guess. But it was evident that Hyde was nearing exhaustion.
His face was purple in patches, and the curses he tried to utter came
maimed and broken and incoherent from his shaking lips. He had almost
ceased to struggle in the unwavering grip that held him; he only moved
convulsively at each succeeding blow.
"Oh, stop him!" implored Hope, behind her brother. "Stop him!" Then, as
he did not move, she pushed wildly past him into the room.
Baring saw her, and instantly, almost as if he had been awaiting her,
stayed his hand. He did not speak. He simply took Hyde by the shoulders
and half-carried, half-propelled him to the window, through which he
thrust him.
He returned empty-handed and closed the window. Ronnie had entered, and
was standing by his sister, who had dropped upon her knees by the sofa
and hidden her face in the cushions, sobbing with a pasionate
abandonment that testified to nerves that had given way utterly at last
beneath a strain too severe to be borne. Baring just glanced at her,
then turned his attention to her brother.
"I have been doing your work for you," he remarked grimly. "Aren't you
ashamed of yourself?" He put his hand upon Ronnie, and twisted him round
to face the light, looking at him piercingly. "Aren't you ashamed of
yourself?" he repeated.
Ronnie met his eyes irresolutely for a moment, then looked away towards
Hope. She had become very still, but her face remained hidden. There was
something tense about her attitude. After a moment Ronnie spoke, his
voice very low.
"I suppose you had a reason for what you have just been doing?"
"Yes," Baring said sternly, "I had a reason. Do you mean me to
understand that you didn't know that fellow to be a blackguard?"
Ronnie made no answer. He stood like a beaten dog.
"If you didn't know it," Baring continued, "I am sorry for your
intelligence. If you did, you deserve the same treatment as he has just
received."
Hope stirred at the words, stirred and moaned, as if she were in pain;
and again momentarily Baring glanced at her. But his face showed no
softening.
"I mean what I say," he said, turning inexorably to Ronnie. "I told you
long ago that that man was not fit to associate with your sister. You
must have known it for yourself; yet you continued to bring him to the
house. What I have just done was in her defence. Mark that, for--as you
know--I am not in the habit of acting hastily. But there are some
offences that only a horsewhip can punish." He set the boy free with a
contemptuous gesture, and crossed the room to Hope. "Now I have
something to say to you," he said.
She started and quivered, but she did not raise her head. Very quietly
he stooped and lifted her up. He saw that she was too upset for the
moment to control herself, and he put her into a chair and waited beside
her. After several seconds she slipped a trembling hand into his, and
spoke.
"Monty," she said, "I have something to say to you first."
Her action surprised him. It touched him also, but he did not show it.
"I am listening," he said gravely.
She looked up at him and uttered a sharp sigh. Then, with an effort, she
rose and faced him.
"You are very angry with me," she said. "You are going to--to--give me
up."
His face hardened. He looked back at her with a sternness that sent the
blood to her heart. He said nothing whatever. She went on with
difficulty.
"But before you do," she said, "I want to tell you that--that--ever
since you asked me to marry you I have loved you--with my whole heart;
and I have never--in thought or deed--been other than true to my love. I
can't tell you any more than that. It is no good to question me. I may
have done things of which you would strongly disapprove, which you would
even condemn, but my heart has always been true to you--always."
She stopped. Her lips were quivering painfully. She saw that her words
had not moved him to confidence in her, and it seemed as if the whole
world had suddenly turned dark and empty and cold--a place to wander in,
but never to rest.
A long silence followed that supreme effort of hers. Baring's
eyes--blue, merciless as steel--were fixed upon her in a gaze that
pierced and hurt her. Yet he forced her to endure it. He held her in
front of him ruthlessly, almost cruelly.
"So I am not to question you?" he said at last. "You object to that?"
She winced at his tone.
"Don't!" she said under her breath. "Don't hurt me more--more than you
need!"
He was silent again, grimly, interminably silent, it seemed to her. And
all the while she felt him doing battle with her, beating down her
resistance, mastering her, compelling her.
"Hope!" he said at length.
She looked up at him. Her knees were shaking under her. Her heart was
beginning to whisper that her strength was nearly spent; that she would
not be able to resist much longer.
"Tell me," he said very quietly, "this one thing only! What is the hold
that Hyde has over you?"
She shook her head.
"That is the one thing--"
"It is the one thing that I must know," he said sternly.
She was white to the lips.
"I can't answer you," she said.
"You must answer me!" He turned her quivering face up to his own. "Do
you hear me, Hope?" he said. "I insist upon your answering me."
He still spoke quietly, but she was suddenly aware that he was putting
forth his whole strength. It came upon her like a physical, crushing
weight. It overwhelmed her. She hid her face with an anguished cry. He
had conquered her.
In another moment she would have yielded. Her opposition was dead. But
abruptly, unexpectedly, there came an interruption. Ronnie, very pale,
and looking desperate, came between them.
"Look here, sir," he said, "you--you are going too far. I can't have my
sister coerced in this fashion. If she prefers to keep this matter to
herself, she must do so. You can't force her to speak."
Baring released Hope and turned upon him almost violently, but, seeing
the unusual, if precarious, air of resolution with which Ronnie
confronted him, he checked himself. He walked to the end of the room and
back before he spoke. His features were set like a mask when he
returned.
"You may be right," he said, "though I think it would have been better
for everyone if you had not interfered. Hope, I am going. If you cannot
bring yourself to tell me the whole truth without reservation, there can
be nothing further between us. I fear that, after all, I spoke too soon.
I can enter upon no compact that is not based upon absolute
confidence."
He spoke coldly, decidedly, without a trace of feeling; and, having
spoken, he went deliberately to the window. There he stood for a few
seconds with his back turned upon the room; then, as the silence
remained unbroken, he quietly lifted the catch and let himself out.
In the room he left not a word was spoken for many tragic minutes.