Lady Mildred’s destination was the family dower house, the use of which
her brother had given her as a country retreat. It was several hours’
drive from London, and they were all tired out by the time that they
arrived. During the journey the sisters spoke very seldom, and it was
not until they had dined that any serious conversation took place. Then
it was Lady Ethel who broached the subject.
“I suppose you will write to John to-night and tell him where you are?”
she began nervously.
“No,” was the uncompromising answer.
“I won’t presume to advise you, Mildred, but he will be very anxious,
and after all you are judging him without hearing his side,” Lady Ethel
answered with quiet persistence.
“I refuse to discuss it with you. Now I am going to bed, for I am
tired,” Lady Mildred said coldly and immediately she left the room.
But alone, her composure vanished, and she threw herself on to the bed,
sobbing bitterly, and it was many hours before she fell asleep, worn
out in mind and body. When morning came she was once more calm, and her
manner was cold and forbidding when she met her sister.
“I absolutely refuse to discuss my husband with you,” she said to her,
“and if you persist in doing so, you must leave here.”
“It is for your own good, Mildred, for I hate to see you spoiling your
life. Read this morning’s paper and you will see that John’s counsel
denied that John took away the native woman from the man he shot except
to save her torture. You will say that John was quite right in shooting
the brute who could torture a woman in the way Marillier did. Don’t you
see that this charge is only trumped up by the Baron to force John to
silence? If I were in your place, I would be by my husband’s side, and
help him to defeat his enemy,” Lady Ethel cried vehemently.
Lady Mildred had seized the newspaper and was eagerly reading the full
account given of the proceedings at Bow Street.
A perusal of Sir Richard’s speech made her doubt for the first time
that she had acted wisely in leaving her husband. But pride quickly
banished the doubt, for she could imagine her friends commenting on the
charge.
“It is an easy matter to deny its truth, for John could do nothing
else,” she told herself.
It was not merely this accusation that distressed her for there was
also the fact that all this scandal might have been avoided by his
giving a simple promise to the Baron. And he had refused to do this,
even when she had appealed to him so passionately.
The days passed slowly, and as each morning came, Lady Ethel hoped that
her sister would have relented, but there was no sign of any change;
so, when a week had gone, she rose early and drove straight to London,
without leaving word where she had gone. It was twelve o’clock when
she reached Park Lane, only to find that there was no one in the house
except the servants. However, she decided to wait Gaunt’s return,
and she went to her room to prepare for lunch. As she passed her
brother-in-law’s room she chanced to glance through the open door, and
to her surprise noticed many trunks lying around, all of which were
strapped.
“Can he be going away?” she asked herself.
There was too much luggage for a short visit, so it was evident that a
long journey was contemplated, and she determined not to leave London
until she had found out where John was going. When she went down-stairs
again she heard the sound of voices in the library and so entered.
Gaunt and Edward Drake were talking earnestly together, and they
stopped when they saw her.
“Good-morning,” she said brightly.
“Good-morning,” Drake replied curtly.
“John, I have just left Mildred. I want you to come back with me to see
her,” she said earnestly.
“Did she send you to me? Have you any message?” he asked eagerly.
“No. Mildred has not been very well, and I am sure if you saw her,
everything would come right. I have seen that your trunks are packed,
and I fear that you are going to do something stupid.”
“My wife will have to come to me, after what has happened,” Gaunt
answered sternly.
“John, don’t let any silly pride ruin your happiness. After all,
Mildred has some cause for complaint.”
“I refuse to discuss it,” he answered with a harsh laugh, and strode
from the room.
“Mr. Drake, won’t you help me?” she said and her hands were
outstretched towards him in appeal.
In a moment he had clasped them, and their eyes met—his filled with
love as he struggled to keep back the passionate words that came near
his lips.
“I can do nothing. Mr. Gaunt will not be influenced, for he is deeply
hurt, and rightly so, I think. Go back to your sister and persuade her
to come here at once. In a few days it will be too late for——”
He stopped and she looked at him anxiously.
“Is John going away? Will it be for a long time?” she asked quickly.
“I can tell you nothing, for it is not my secret.”
“But this wretched police court case. I had forgotten that it was
to-day. What has happened?”
“Nothing. A little evidence which was worthless was given, and the
case was adjourned until next Thursday. But you may assure your sister
that there is no danger to Mr. Gaunt. The worst he did was to shoot
Marillier, but it was in self-defense, and he was justified.”
“I agree with you. The man deserved death,” she answered vehemently.
Drake suddenly realized that he was still holding her hands—and a vivid
flush came to his cheeks.
“Ethel, I love you,” he whispered passionately, for the temptation was
too great for his strength, and for the moment he had forgotten that
this was the woman whom his brother loved.
She disengaged herself gently, and her eyes met his steadily. But
before she could speak the door was thrown open and Gaunt came in.
Lady Ethel gave a quick sigh of relief, but her face was flushed and
she deliberately turned away from Edward Drake.
“Are you ready?” Gaunt asked of the latter.
“Yes.”
“Come along then.”
Drake still hesitated, but receiving no encouragement from Lady Ethel,
he moved slowly away. She hastened after them, however, and addressed
her brother-in-law.
“John, I am going back to Mildred. Won’t you send her some message?”
“I have already answered you.”
“You are very cruel. You ought to make allowances for her,” she cried
passionately.
“Good-bye,” he called to her, and slipping his arm through Drake’s
hastened away.
Lady Ethel realized that it was no use to stay longer, so made
preparations for her return, and was about to enter the car that was in
waiting at the door when she heard her name called; and turning, she
saw Lindsay Drake approaching her, an eager smile on his face.
“I am so glad to see you. I thought I should not have an opportunity of
wishing you good-bye.”
“You are going away?” she said quickly, and then gave him a curious
look. “Come with me a little way. Mr. Gaunt and your brother have just
gone out,” she added.
“I ought to see them at once,” he answered doubtfully.
“Surely you can spare half an hour?”
Her manner was so gracious that he could not withstand the temptation.
“I must not be late,” he remarked, and jumped up beside her and the car
started off immediately.
“Are you going abroad?” she asked casually.
“To West Africa.”
“Surely your leave is not up? You have only just come home. May I ask
if you are going alone?”
“I would much rather not talk about myself,” he answered hurriedly.
“Then let us talk of Mr. Gaunt. Is he accompanying you to West Africa?”
Captain Drake did not answer and she grew more insistent.
“And is your destination the Congo?” she persisted.
Perhaps it was intuition coupled with her woman’s wit that made her
ask the question. There was the fact that Gaunt was evidently making
preparations for a long absence; and she remembered the determined way
in which he was fighting for the cause of the Congo natives. Now there
was Captain Drake’s hurried departure and when she saw his hesitation
her conjecture seemed to be verified.
“So Mr. Gaunt is going with you to the Congo?” she insisted.
“I wish you would not ask me these questions, Lady Ethel. I hate to
refuse you but already I have been indiscreet. I would willingly tell
you everything but in honor I am bound to silence,” he said earnestly.
“You have answered me, and I wish to know what it means. You must be
aware that my sister and Mr. Gaunt have quarreled, and if he goes
away for a long time, their estrangement may be forever. It is this
mystery which is the cause of everything. Tell me the reason that
compelled Mr. Gaunt to force this scandal upon us. He did force it,
for at a word from him the whole thing would have subsided. If only my
sister knew his motive, I believe that she would go to him and ask for
forgiveness.”
Captain Drake was moved, for he could see that she was greatly
disturbed, and for the moment he was tempted to tell her everything.
But the temptation was thrust aside, and his face became stern.
“I can only say that his motive does him honor,” he said steadily.
Suddenly he gave a cry for he chanced to look through the window and
saw that they had reached the country. He had been so deeply interested
in his companion that all knowledge of time and place had left him, but
now he realized that he would be late for his appointment.
“Where are we?” he asked anxiously.
“I really do not know,” she answered with indifference.
“I must get back to London at once. Please order the chauffeur to
return.”
“You will not do what I ask; then why should I help you?” she said with
a touch of malice.
In an instant he had moved the indicator, the car came to a standstill,
and he jumped to the ground.
“How far are we from a railway station?” Drake demanded curtly from the
chauffeur.
“Two or three miles, sir,” the chauffeur replied.
“Mr. Drake, come back into the car,” Lady Ethel said in a low voice;
and when she saw that he hesitated, added to the chauffeur: “Drive back
towards London, but stop when we meet a taxi-cab.”
“Thank you,” Drake said gratefully, and once more sat down beside her.
For a time neither of them spoke but he was conscious that every now
and then she threw him a quick glance from beneath her lashes. His
eyes were turned steadily towards the passing scenery, for he dared not
look at her.
“Captain Drake, I am sorry. It was a mean trick,” she began nervously.
In an instant his hand had covered hers, pressing it convulsively.
“Lady Ethel, I shall not see you again for a long time, and this is my
good-bye. I want you to know that I love you. Don’t answer me, for I
know that I have nothing to offer. I am a poor soldier, and——” he broke
off, for his voice shook. “But I couldn’t go away without letting you
know of my love.”
Her face had grown white and she did not answer, but he did not see
that her eyes were dim, and her face sad.
Suddenly the brakes were put on, the car slowed down, and the chauffeur
signaled to an approaching taxi-cab driver.
“Good-bye—won’t you wish me good luck?” Drake said hoarsely.
“Good-bye, and I hope that you will all come back safely. I am sorry,
very sorry. Please tell your brother that—but no, I won’t send my
message. Good-bye.”
And she watched him drive away.
“Where to, my lady?” the chauffeur asked respectfully.
“Home.”
“Park Lane, my lady?”
“No. To Lynton House,” she answered.
The car started and Lady Ethel drew down the blinds for she was crying
quietly.