CHAPTER X

CYRIL'S FRIEND

Miss Strong did like to go and see. She looked at Miss Wentworth with

a make-believe of anger, and, rising to her feet, went quickly across

the room. Admission had already been given to the knocker. There

advanced towards the girl standing in the open door a man--who was not

Mr. Paxton.

"Mr. Franklyn! I thought----"

There was a note of disappointment in her voice. She stopped short, as

if desirous not to allow her self-betrayal to go too far. She moved a

little back, so as to allow the newcomer to enter the room.

This newcomer was a man of the medium height, about forty years of

age. His black hair was already streaked with grey. He had a firm,

clear-cut, clean-shaven mouth and chin, and a pair of penetrating

grey-black eyes, with which he had a trick of looking every one whom

he addressed squarely in the face. His manner, ordinarily, was grave

and deliberate, as if he liked to weigh each word he uttered. He held

Miss Strong's hand for a moment in his cool, close grasp.

"Well; you thought what?"

"I'm very glad to see you--you know I am; but I thought it was Cyril."

"Are you expecting him?"

"I was expecting him, but--it seems he hasn't come."

Turning to Miss Wentworth he greeted her. And it was to be noted that

as she offered him her hand a humorous twinkle beamed through her

glasses, and her whole face was lighted by a smile. He turned again to

Miss Strong.

"Have you heard the news?"

"What news?"

"Hasn't Cyril told you?"

"He told me something last night, but I really couldn't tell you quite

what it was he told me, and I haven't seen him since."

"He is in Brighton?"

"Is he? I was informed that he was stopping in town."

"You were informed? By whom?"

"By an acquaintance, who said that he saw him there."

Mr. Franklyn waited before speaking again. His unflinching eyes seemed

to be studying the lady's face. Probably he saw that there was

something unusual in her manner.

"That is strange. I was under the impression that he was in Brighton.

I have come from town specially to see him. I expected to find him

with you here."

"He did promise to meet me to-night. He hasn't kept his promise. I

don't understand why. To be plain with you, it rather troubles me.

"He promised to meet you?"

"He did most faithfully."

"And you have received no intimation from him to the effect that he

was not coming?"

"Not a word--not a line!"

"Then he may be here at any moment. Something has unexpectedly delayed

him. You are acquainted with him sufficiently well to be aware that

had anything occurred to cause him to alter his plans, he would

immediately have let you know. Your informant was wrong. I have had

inquiries made for him everywhere in town, and as a result have good

reason to believe that he is in Brighton."

"What is the news of which you were speaking?"

"Has Cyril said nothing to you about the Trumpit Gold Mine?"

"He referred to it casually the night before last in his usual strain,

as having been the cause of his destruction."

"That really is extraordinary. I confess I do not understand it. It is

so unlike Cyril to have communicated neither with you nor with me. Are

you sure that he said nothing more?"

"About the Trumpit Gold Mine? Not a word. What was there, what is

there to say? Do get it out!"

The young lady made an impatient movement with her foot. The gentleman

looked at her with amusement in his eyes. She was very well worth

looking at just then. Her hair was a little out of order; and, though

she might not have agreed with such a statement, it suited her when it

was slightly disarranged. Her cheeks were flushed. She held herself

very straight. Perhaps it was her tears which had lent brightness to

her eyes; they were bright. Her small, white teeth sparkled between

her blush-rose lips, which were slightly parted as if in repressed

excitement. She presented a pretty picture of a young lady who was in

no mood for trifling.

"I shall have much pleasure, Miss Strong, in getting it out. What seem

to be well-founded rumours have reached England that gold has been

found at last in considerable quantities. The shares have gone up with

a rush. When the Stock Exchange closed this afternoon they were

quoted at £12 10s. A little more than a week ago they were unsaleable

at twopence each."

"£12 10s.! oh, Mr. Franklyn! And has Cyril got rid of his?"

"Not a bit of it. They are in my strongbox. There are ten thousand of

them--Cyril is one of the largest holders, if he is not the largest;

and what that means at £12 10s. apiece you can calculate as well as

I."

"Oh, Mr. Franklyn!" The young lady brought her hands together with a

little clap. She turned in natural triumph towards her friend. "What

did I tell you? Now aren't you sorry for what you said last night?

Didn't I say that you hadn't the faintest notion of what you were

talking about?"

Miss Wentworth, though, as was to be expected, not so excited as the

lady who was principally concerned, evinced sufficiently lively signs

of interest.

"You certainly did, and I certainly hadn't; and while you left nothing

unsaid which you ought to have said, there can be no sort of doubt

whatever that I said everything which I ought to have left unsaid.

But, at the same time, I do beg leave to remark that Mr. Paxton need

not have worn such an air of mystery."

"Why?" Miss Strong tapped the toe of her slipper against the floor.

"He wasn't compelled to blurt out his affairs to all the world."

Miss Wentworth shrugged her shoulders.

"Certainly not--if I am all the world. Are you also all the world?

From what I gathered he did not make much of a confidante of you."

"Well, he wasn't forced to!" Suddenly Miss Strong made a wholly

irrational, but not wholly unnatural, movement in the direction of

Miss Wentworth's chair. She placed her hand upon that lady's

shoulders. And she kissed her twice, first on the lips, then on the

brow. And she exclaimed, "Never mind. I forgive you!"

Miss Wentworth was quite as demure as the occasion required. She

surveyed her emotional friend with twinkling eyes.

"Thank you very much indeed, my dear."

Miss Strong moved restlessly about the room, passing, as it seemed,

aimlessly from object to object.

"It is strange that he should have kept such news to himself! And not

have said a word about it! And now not coming after all!" She turned

to Mr. Franklyn. "I suppose that it is all quite true? That you have

not been building up my hopes simply to dash them down again?"

"I have given you an accurate statement of the actual position of

affairs when prices were made up for the day, as you may easily prove

yourself by a reference to an evening paper."

With her hands Miss Strong pushed back her hair from her temples.

"After all he had lost in Eries----"

Mr. Franklyn interposed a question.

"In Eries! Did he lose in Eries?"

"I am afraid he did, heavily. And then, in spite of that, on the same

day, to see his way to a quarter of a million!"

"A quarter of a million! Did he mention that precise amount?"

"I think he did,--I feel sure he did. Charlie, didn't you hear him

speak of a quarter of a million?"

Miss Wentworth, who from the depths of her easy chair had been

regarding the two almost as if they had been studies of interesting,

though contrasting, types of human nature, smiled as she replied--

"I believe that I did hear Mr. Paxton make a passing and, as it seemed

to me, a mysterious allusion to that insignificant sum."

"Then he must be acquainted with the movements of the markets." Mr.

Franklyn was the speaker. "Though I must tell you candidly, Miss

Strong, that at present I am very far from being prepared to advise

him to hold until his profits reach what Miss Wentworth, in a truly

liberal spirit, calls that insignificant sum. As things stand, he can

get out with half of it. If he waits for more, he may get nothing.

Indeed, it is an almost vital necessity of the situation that I should

see him at once. The shares are in my keeping. Without his direct

authority I can do nothing with them. After all, the boom may be but a

bubble; it may already have been blown to a bursting-point; in the

morning it may have been pricked. Such things are the commonplaces of

the Stock Exchange. In any case, it is absolutely necessary that he

should be on the spot, ready, if needful, to take prompt, instant

advantage of the turn of the market in whatever direction it may be.

Or, by the time that he does appear upon the scene, his shares may

again be unsaleable at twopence apiece, and all his profits may have

gone. Now, tell me, do you know where he stayed last night?"

"At Makell's Hotel. He nearly always does stay there when he is in

Brighton."

"It is possible, then, that he is there now; or, at any rate, that

they have news of him. I will go at once and inquire."

Miss Strong made a quick movement towards the speaker.

"Mr. Franklyn, mayn't I come with you?"

He hesitated.

"There is not the slightest necessity. If he is there I will bring him

back with me; if he is not I will either bring or send you news."

"You promise?"

"I do--certainly."

"You promise that you will let me hear as soon as you can--at

once--without a moment's delay?" The girl put her hand to her side.

Tears came into her eyes. "Mr. Franklyn, you don't know what all this

means to me. All day long I have been conscious of something hanging

over me, as it were, a cloud of catastrophe. That something very

strange either has happened, or shortly will happen, I am convinced.

It frightens me! So, if you wish to do me a kindness, you will not

keep me in suspense one moment longer than you can help."

Miss Strong had passed, so far as appearances went, instantly, without

any sort of warning, from a white heat of excitement to almost

preternatural coldness. One had only to look at her to perceive that

her mind was not at ease; nor, since mental and physical conditions

are closely allied, her body either. Mr. Franklyn proffered

reassurance.

"Believe me, Miss Strong, there is not the slightest real cause for

anxiety. The probability is that Cyril is looking for me, just as I am

looking for him; that, in fact, we are chasing each other. Anyhow, you

shall have news when I have news, and that without a second's delay. I

ought to find a cab upon the nearest stand. If I do, you ought to hear

from me in thirty minutes. But even if I don't, I think that I can

promise that you shall hear from me within the hour."

The Datchet Diamonds · 第 10 / 19 章