IN THE TOILS.
The great marquis recovered consciousness by midday, but he lay very
weak and silent, the keen, hard face looking like a mask carved in old
ivory. Cecil Neville scarcely left his side, and, though the marquis
did not attempt to speak, he turned his eyes upon him now and again
with a curious expression in them. Mr. Spenser Churchill was, as became
so well-known and tender-hearted a philanthropist, most attentive and
sympathetic, and he hovered about the bedside, and shed the light of
his benevolent countenance upon the patient, as if he were the marquis’
brother. And him, too, the sick man regarded with an expression of
thoughtful watchfulness.
Mr. Spenser Churchill waited four days, then, hearing from the doctors
that the marquis might possibly remain in his present condition for
weeks, or even months, he thought that he had better attend to the
other threads of his plot. It was time that Percy Levant secured Doris.
Everything in England was working wonderfully well for Mr. Spenser
Churchill, and, in anticipation, he could almost see the accomplishment
of his object and the reward of all his scheming and toiling.
“It cuts me to the heart to leave the dear patient, Cecil,” he said;
“but I have most urgent business on the Continent, connected with one
of our great charitable societies, and I really must go. I have the
consolation, however, of reflecting that I leave my dear old friend
in such loving hands as yours and dear Lady Grace’s. He will, I know,
receive every attention that affectionate hearts can suggest.”
“Yes,” said Cecil, rather grimly. “We shall neither starve nor neglect
him; don’t remain a moment longer than you like. You had better leave
your address.”
“Y--es,” said Spenser Churchill. “Dear me, I scarcely know what address
to give you. I shall be moving about so much for the first few weeks;
but perhaps you had better write to Meuriguy’s, at Paris. You will
telegraph to me, of course. I shall be back as soon as possible.
And when I come,” he added, mentally, as he wrung Cecil’s hand,
“perhaps I may have the satisfaction of dealing you a slight shock, my
self-sufficient young friend!”
He started for Italy that same evening, and three days later appeared
in the garden of the Villa Rimini to find that Doris had consented to
be Percy Levant’s wife.
There was something so complete in the success of his plans that Mr.
Spenser Churchill was almost startled. The marquis lying bereft of
reason and helpless away in England, and Doris Marlowe engaged to Percy
Levant! It was little short of marvelous!
“Now, if I could only see them married,” he murmured, as he lay on the
lawn smoking a cigarette, and blinking placidly up at the blue sky; “if
I could only see them married, and the dear marquis would kindly remove
himself from this troublous world, I should be ten thousand pounds
richer in pocket, and be able to repay my dear Lord Cecil for the many,
the very many snubs he has bestowed upon me. Ah, here comes Percy. How
the young man hates me! And yet I have been the means of giving him a
beautiful wife and a large fortune. Strange how deeply ingratitude is
engrained in the human heart! Well, Percy,” he purred, “and how is
dear Miss Marlowe now? It was nothing serious, I trust? Only the heat,
my dear Percy? I noticed that the room was hot, and the air quite heavy
with flowers. I’m not sure that too many flowers are wholesome; to some
ultra-refined sensibilities, like those of our dear Miss Doris, for
instance, their perfume is overwhelming. How is she?”
Percy Levant stood with folded arms looking thoughtfully into vacancy,
his handsome face grave and sombre.
“Miss Marlowe has gone to her own room,” he said, in a low voice. “Yes,
it may have been the heat and the scent of the flowers.” As he spoke,
he took the society journal from his pocket and opened it. “What was it
Lady Despard was reading when--when Miss Marlowe fainted, Churchill?”
and he bent his dark eyes keenly upon the placid face.
Spenser Churchill touched his white, smooth forehead with his
forefinger.
“Really, my dear Percy, I forget! Wasn’t it something about that floral
_fete_ to the Amalgamated Charity Children? Or was it the account of
Lady Brabazon’s ball? Miss Marlowe’s sudden and alarming indisposition
so startled me that it drove the matter out of my head.”
Percy Levant looked at him fixedly, then opened the paper and scanned
it carefully; then his eyes flashed as he came across the paragraph
respecting Lord Cecil’s engagement, and he read it aloud.
“That was it, was it not?”
“N--o, I don’t think so, but I really can’t be sure. To tell you the
truth I wasn’t paying much attention. You see, I’d read the paper
coming across.”
“It was this, and you know it,” said Percy Levant, in a low voice.
“Was it? I daresay. But what has that to do with Miss Marlowe’s swoon?”
inquired Spenser Churchill, with a patient smile.
Percy Levant paced up and down, his head sunk upon his breast.
“I don’t know,” he muttered, inaudibly; “but I will know!”
“Don’t look so distressed, my dear Percy!” purred Spenser Churchill,
leaning his head on his elbow, and watching him through half-closed
eyes. “I trust there is nothing to be really anxious about. Miss Doris
will be well and honor us with her presence at lunch, or at dinner, at
latest. Of course, I can understand your anxiety, but don’t give way to
it, my dear Percy. Will you come and sit down? I want to talk to you
for a few moments.”
Percy Levant stopped short in his pacing to and fro, and looked down at
him.
“Well?” he said, impatiently.
“I want to speak to you about the marriage,” said Spenser Churchill.
“What marriage?” demanded Percy Levant, with a frown.
Spenser Churchill opened his eyes and laughed softly.
“Why, your marriage, my dear fellow,” he returned; “yours and Miss
Doris’. I don’t know whether you agree with me, but I am, on principle,
strongly opposed to long engagements. When two young hearts are
yearning for each other----Percy, this marriage must take place at
once,” he broke off with a sharp and sudden change of voice.
Percy Levant watched him closely and in silence for a moment.
“Why?” he asked.
Spenser Churchill smiled blandly.
“For several reasons; one, and not the least, being my anxiety to see
two young people in whom I am deeply interested, made happy; another,
if I may be candid, is because I am anxious to complete our contract
and destroy the bond,” and he touched his breast-pocket.
A strange expression came into Percy Levant’s face, came and passed
like a flash.
“You want your money?” he said.
“Naturally, and you want your bride! So that we are of one mind, my
dear Percy.”
“And what if I say I will go no further in this vile business; if I say
that I will no longer be a party in this conspiracy against a helpless
girl!” said Percy Levant in a low voice, and with a sudden crimson
rising to his face.
Spenser Churchill smiled blandly.
“But you won’t say any such nonsense, my dear fellow,” he retorted,
blowing a thin wreath of smoke from his complacent lips; “and it would
be nonsense, sheer nonsense, for you couldn’t draw back if you would,
because, my dear Percy, you are so completely and madly in love with
her!”
Percy Levant grew pale, and he clenched his hands.
“You fiend!” he muttered.
Spenser Churchill laughed softly.
“Come, come, we had enough hard names last night! If I am a fiend,
as you call it, don’t you be a fool. Why, my good sir, you have got
everything you wanted, and, like a spoiled child, you are still
dissatisfied, and want to quarrel with the person who has been your
best friend. What, give up charming Doris Marlowe! Tut, tut, you
couldn’t do it; now, could you?”
Percy Levant turned his head aside, and something like a groan escaped
his compressed lips.
“No, you couldn’t. And therefore I say that the sooner the marriage
takes place, and you have got for your bride the beautiful young
creature with whom you are so madly in love, the better. ‘A bird in the
hand,’ and ‘There is many a slip, etc., etc.’ You know the two old, but
exquisitely true, proverbs, I daresay. Get the marriage over, my dear
Percy!”
“You speak of a marriage, and we were engaged only last night!” he
said, after a pause. “Do you think she would consent? How little you
know her. Perhaps you think”--with a bitter smile--“that she is as
madly in love with me as I am with her!”
Spenser Churchill shook his head.
“No, my dear fellow, I don’t think anything of the kind. I think I can
understand why Miss Doris has promised to marry you. But if she doesn’t
love you now, she will do so. Oh, yes, believe me, with most women love
comes after marriage!”
A light shone in the dark eyes for a moment, then faded out again, and
left the handsome face grave and moody.
“I think she will consent--in fact, I am sure she will.” He leaned
forward on his elbow, and whispered the ensuing words insidiously: “She
must be made to!”
“Made to?”
“Yes. Tut, tut, don’t look so black. Moral force, not physical, my dear
Percy, is what I mean. Listen to me. I think you will admit that, up
to now, my judgment has been pretty correct, and that I didn’t start
you on a wild-goose chase that morning in Soho, when I offered to give
you a beautiful wife, and make your fortune. Eh, my dear Percy? Well,
I’ll finish what I began, and here is my little plan. Do you know
Pescia?”
Percy Levant nodded.
“A charming little place, my dear Percy. So quiet and secluded, and so
much healthier than Florence. Now, if I were a medical man I should say
that Miss Doris wanted a change, and that no place, within even easy
distance, could be more suitable than Pescia. Though I am not a doctor,
I think I shall venture to suggest to Lady Despard that she and Doris
go there for a few weeks.”
Percy Levant listened intently, his brilliant eyes covered by their
long, dark lashes, so that Spenser Churchill could not see the
expression that gleamed in them.
“Well, they go to Pescia, and you, of course, with them. You are
there, say, a fortnight or three weeks, when I write to offer you an
engagement at a large salary, in Australia.”
Percy Levant did not move a muscle.
“It is a most tempting offer, but, alas! poor as you are, you cannot
bring yourself to leave your ladylove for years, perhaps forever, as
the song says. And what so natural and reasonable as the suggestion
that you should marry her, and take her out with you? At first, she
will hesitate--oh! yes, certainly she will hesitate--but I think--”
with a smile, “I think I do not over-estimate your powers of persuasion
when I say that I am convinced you will overcome her reluctance to
so hasty a marriage. There is a charming little English church in
Pescia--most charming!--the very church for a quiet wedding. A _quiet_
wedding, mark me, my dear Percy! You see! Come admit that I am as
thoughtful on your behalf as even a parent could be!” and he laughed
unctuously.
“To Australia!” said Percy Levant in a low voice.
Spenser Churchill made a mocking gesture.
“Nonsense, my dear fellow! Why should you go to Australia? On the
day after the wedding you and I will have a little explanation. I
shall have the happiness of telling you whom you have married, and
the extent of your good fortune; of putting you in the way of paying
me that little bonus we agreed upon--and then you may go where you
please--London--Paris--Jericho!”
“I see,” said Percy Levant, slowly. “It is a clever plan. And you will
tell me nothing until after the marriage? You will not trust me----”
The gentle philanthropist’s smile spoke volumes by way of answer. It
really meant, “Do you take me for a fool?”
“Yes, it is a clever plan,” repeated Percy Levant. “But, clever as it
is, I think you will spoil it, Spenser Churchill.”
“I! Spoil it!” he echoed with reproachful indignation.
“Yes, I think so. Do you think Lady Despard will not suspect that there
is something wrong when you dog our footsteps and follow us about----”
Mr. Spenser Churchill laughed.
“But I do not intend to inflict my presence upon you, my dear Percy. I
shall ask dear Lady Despard’s permission to remain here at the villa,
in charge, as it were, during her absence. You see? So that there will
be nothing to be suspicious about.”
A curious expression, almost one of satisfaction, shone for a moment in
Percy Levant’s dark eyes.
“I understand,” he said quietly. “Though not with us you will be near
at hand? And I am to come here the day after the wedding?”
“Yes,” said Spenser Churchill, nodding complacently. “You will come
to me and obtain the key to the enigma, and I flatter myself, my dear
Percy, that you will, I fear, alas, for the first time, overwhelm me
with gratitude! Ah, lucky, lucky boy! If I had had the good fortune in
early life to possess such a friend as I have proved myself to you,
where should I be now, I wonder?” and he sighed unctuously.
“In gaol, I should say,” retorted Percy, grimly. Then he added,
quickly, “But I like your plan, and I shall do my best to carry it out.
As you say, it is too late to draw back now----”
“Much too late,” laughed the philanthropist, “even if you wished to,
which you do not, my dear boy.”
“No, I do not,” he assented, and he took a cigar from his case and
lit it, his white, shapely hands trembling slightly. “I am willing to
follow your instruction; and all I ask is that which you have consented
to: that you keep away from Pescia.”
Spenser Churchill nodded acquiescingly.
“Certainly. I agree with you, that the less I am in evidence the
better.”
As he spoke, a footman came across the lawn with a telegram.
It was from Lord Cecil, and had been forwarded from Meuriguy’s. Mr.
Spenser Churchill took it and opened it.
“The marquis’ condition is unaltered. Cecil Neville,” it ran.
He tore it into minute fragments.
“A request that I will speak at the annual meeting of the Washerwomen’s
Burial Fund next week. You see what sacrifices I am making in your
behalf, my dear Percy,” he said, shaking his head. “I think I am rather
thirsty; it is this peculiar air, I suppose. A small brandy-and-soda,
now--will you join me, my dear Percy? No?” and with a gentle sigh he
ambled toward the house.
Percy Levant dropped down on the grass and smoked furiously for some
minutes, then he flung the cigar from him as if he were too agitated to
smoke.
“Yes, I’ll do it!--I’ll do it!” he muttered. “Oh, my beautiful angel,
for your sake--it is for your sake.”