VERA'S WARNING.
Amongst her many friends, and in the keen enjoyment of the evening,
Vera forgot her fears. She was young enough to appreciate to the full
the joys of life. She was strong and vigorous, and most things pleased
her. Besides, there was always the reflection that the gates would be
closed to her before long. Once she had taken her fate in her own
hands, and had gone into the world to get her living, there would be
no more of this. A little longer and she would say goodbye to Lord
Ravenspur and Walter. Of course, the wrench would be a bitter one, for
she was by no means blind to the hardships and privations of the poor.
Still, she put that out of her mind now. She was going to have a very
pleasant evening, and by this time tomorrow she would be far away from
the heat and dust and bustle of London. In her mind's eye she could
see the yacht sliding over the water. She could see the moon shining
on the waves, and turning their crests to molten silver.
The big house was crowded to its utmost capacity, for Lady Ringmar was
one of the most prominent of society women, and invitations to her
entertainments were eagerly sought after. The rooms were filled. At
the end of the long corridor Vera caught a peep of the garden, all
aglow with points of flame from the electric lights entwined about the
trees and shrubs.
An hour or so passed pleasantly enough; then, as the heat grew more
intense Vera's mind turned to the garden. There were huge blocks of
ice, looking deliciously cool, behind banks of ferns. The air hummed
with the noise of electric fans, and yet the atmosphere was heavy and
enervating. Supper was a thing of the past, and Vera stood at the head
of a flight of marble steps, which led to the garden. She was quite
alone. She was looking for Walter, whom she had not seen for some
little time. She turned with a smile as someone murmured her name. She
saw that it was Ravenspur's friend, Sir James Seton, who was standing
by her side.
"So you are all alone," he said. "What are those young men thinking
about? It was very different in my day."
Vera smiled somewhat faintly. She had every respect for Sir James. He
was kindly disposed enough, but in the eyes of youth he was regarded
as something of a bore. There was no help for it when he suggested a
turn in the garden.
"Certainly," Vera murmured; "only I don't want to walk far. I have
enjoyed my first season in town immensely, but I am beginning to long
for the fresh air in the country again."
"Quite right," Sir James agreed; "just the same with me. Why people
box themselves up in London during the most beautiful months in the
year I can't imagine. They talk about England being a decadent
country! A man wants a real stamina to struggle through the three
months which we call the season. Some of these men are a perfect
marvel to me. Take Ravenspur, for example. That man works as hard as
any man in England. He is here, there, and everywhere, and yet he
finds plenty of time for this sort of thing, too. If there is anybody
I envy, it is Ravenspur."
"I am sure you have no need to envy anybody," Vera laughed. "Besides,
in many ways you are very like him. Most people see a strong
resemblance between you two."
Sir James chuckled as if well pleased with the compliment.
"Do you really think so?" he asked eagerly. "Well, I suppose what
everybody says is bound to be true. At the same time, these
resemblances are not always desirable. For instance, look what
happened to me only the other day."
"And what was that?" Vera asked.
"Don't you know? It was the last time I dined with your guardian.
Didn't they tell you about it? It reminded me of the days when I was a
soldier--quite an adventure, too, I assure you. I was coming up Cheyne
Row, more or less in the darkness, when a man darted out of the
shadows, and attacked me. I had some difficulty in beating him off. I
don't know whether the man was mad or not, but his intentions were
quite serious."
"Really!" Vera exclaimed, with widely opened eyes. "And what became of
the man? Was he locked up?"
"Oh, he got away before I could do anything. Still, it was very
unpleasant while it lasted, I assure you."
"It must have been," Vera said thoughtfully. "But, my dear Sir James,
I don't quite understand what this adventure has to do with your
likeness to Lord Ravenspur."
"Oh, well, I had almost forgotten that. You see, when the fellow
rushed at me, he addressed me as Ravenspur, just as the hero of the
melodrama addresses the villain when he is caught in the last act.
There is not the slightest doubt that I was mistaken for your
guardian. Indeed, as soon as the man realised his mistake, he drew off
at once. I am rather surprised they did not tell you."
Vera was listening uneasily enough now. In the ordinary course of
events she would have heard all about that mysterious occurrence. Why
had they kept the knowledge from her? As she sat there thinking the
matter over, she began in her mind to piece events together. So this
sudden flight from London was dictated by personal fear on the part of
Lord Ravenspur. He wanted to get away from this relentless foe. There
was no other way to safeguard himself than by this yachting cruise.
And hitherto Vera had never detected in her guardian the slightest
sign of nervousness or fear. This foe, then, must be a man of
extraordinary determination and tenacity of purpose.
Vera could see it all more clearly now. She recollected the
disturbance in the conservatory on the night of Sir James Seton's
visit to Park Lane. She recollected with even more significant force
the cries and the shattering of glass in the conservatory the previous
evening. And why, for the first time in his life, had Lord Ravenspur
caused the bloodhounds to be brought up from Hampshire? All these
questions Vera asked herself, but she could think of no reply. In some
vague way her woman's instinct told her that she was mixed up in the
business. If so, it would never do for her to desert Lord Ravenspur at
this critical moment. She would have to stay by him until the danger
was past.
She sat there replying to the chattering remarks of her companion at
random, until even he saw how preoccupied she was.
"I am afraid you are not quite yourself tonight," he said.
"I am sure I beg your pardon," Vera murmured. "I am not quite myself.
I wish you would do me a favour, Sir James. Would you mind finding
Walter and sending him to me?"
Sir James trotted off obediently enough, and presently Walter came
along. He looked somewhat warm and heated.
"I am sorry I couldn't find you before," he said. "We have been having
a bit of fun in the drawing-room. It was rather a nuisance, too. What
do you think happened? But you will never guess. One of the dogs got
away and actually followed us here. I found three or four ladies held
up by one of the brutes in a drawing-room. They were frightened to
death, not knowing what a peaceful creature poor Bruno is in the
ordinary way. I had to lead him away and tie him up to one of the
trees in the shrubbery."
Vera smiled as she thought of the terror which the great hound would
naturally inspire. No doubt he had managed to get away from Park Lane
and had tracked them to Lady Ringmar's house.
"He will be quite quiet where he is," she said, "and we can take him
with us when we go. I shall be glad to get away. I am longing to leave
London behind me now."
Walter looked anxiously at his companion. He saw how pale and
disturbed she was, how distressed her features were.
"What is the matter?" he asked tenderly.
"I was going to tell you," Vera replied. "I have had a considerable
shock tonight. I have learnt something which you tried to conceal from
me. Oh, I am not blaming you, because I am sure you only acted for the
best, but I have just been having a conversation with Sir James Seton,
and he was telling me all about the attack that was made on him the
other night when he came to dine with us. I was dreadfully grieved to
hear what he had to say."
"But, my dear girl," Walter protested, "really----"
"Oh, yes, I know. You are thinking about me now," Vera said. "But it
is rather too late. That murderous attack was made upon Sir James
Seton because the miscreant mistook him for Lord Ravenspur. There can
be no doubt about it, because Sir James told me so. And when I heard
that, other strange circumstances flashed into my mind. For instance,
those two mysterious occurrences in the studio. Now, tell me honestly,
Walter, is the danger really great?"
Walter hesitated a moment before he replied.
"I am very much afraid it is," he said presently. "It is all a
question of time. And you must not regard Lord Ravenspur as a coward,
because he is nothing of the kind. I am certain that he is acting in
your very best interests----"
"Ah, I thought I was at the bottom of it somewhere," Vera cried, as
Walter bit his lip. "I was absolutely convinced of it. Oh, I know I
couldn't tell you why, except that my instinct warns me. But am I not
to know, Walter? Am I to go on being treated as a child? You have both
been very good to me, and the mere suggestion that I am a danger and a
burden to you fills me with pain. Won't you take me into your
confidence? I am no longer a child."