THE LINK IN THE CHAIN
Practically for three days and three nights the Council sat continually.
There was no pretence now at recreation, no other guests. We worked,
all of us, from the Duke downwards, unflaggingly and with very little
respite. When at last the end came, my padlocked notebook, with its
hundreds of pages of hieroglyphics, held the principal material for
three schemes of coast defence, each one considered separately and
supported by a mass of detail as to transport, commissariat, and many
minor points.
The principal members of the Council departed by special train early on
Monday morning. I myself, a little dizzy and hot-eyed, walked across
the park an hour after dawn, and flung myself upon my bed with a deep
sigh of relief. Before I had closed my eyes, however, Grooton appeared
with apologies for his dishabille.
"I have been up to the house twice, sir," he said, "but they would not
let me see you or even send in a message. I thought it only right to
let you know at once, sir, that the police have been here rummaging
about. They had what they called a search warrant, I believe. I came
up to the house immediately, but I could not induce any of the servants
to bring word in to you. Mr. Jesson, the Duke's own man, told me that
it was as much as his place was worth to allow any one to enter the
library."
"All right, Grooton," I muttered. "Hang the police!"
I believe he said something else, but I never heard it. I was already
fast asleep.
* * * * *
About mid-day I was awakened by the dazzling sunshine which seemed to
fill the room. I called for a bath, dressed, and made an excellent
breakfast. Then I brought out my notebook and prepared for work. I had
scarcely dipped my pen in the ink, however, when a shadow darkened the
window. I looked up quickly. It was Ray.
He entered without knocking, and I saw at once that he was in a strange
condition. He scarcely greeted me, but sank into my easy chair, and
drawing out his pipe began to fill it. Then I saw, too, what I had
never seen before. His fingers were shaking.
"Boy," he said, "have you any wine?"
"The Duke sent me some claret," I answered. "Will that do?"
I summoned Grooton and ordered the wine and some biscuits. Ray was a
man who ate and drunk sparingly. Yet he filled a tumbler and drank it
straight off.
"You and I," he remarked, "are the only two who sat the whole show out.
It was a grind, wasn't it?"
"It was," I answered, "but I have slept, and I feel none the worse for
it. Lord Chelsford carried us on splendidly. There is solid work
here," I said; "something worth the planning."
I touched my notebook almost affectionately, for the work was
fascinating now that it had attained coherent form. Ray smoked on and
said nothing for several minutes. Then he looked up at me.
"Have you a spare bedroom, Ducaine?"
"One or two," I answered. "They are not all furnished, but one at any
rate is decent."
"Will you put me up for a day--perhaps two?"
"Of course," I answered, "but--"
He answered my unspoken question.
"The Duke has turned me out," he said grimly. "Who would have suspected
the old man of such folly? He believes in Blenavon. I told him the
plain truth, and he told me that I was a liar."
"I thought that he would be difficult to convince," I remarked.
"He has all the magnificent pig-headedness of his race," Ray answered.
"Blenavon is Blenavon, and he can do no wrong. He would summon him home
again, but fortunately the young man himself is no fool. He will not
come. You told Lady Angela?"
"Everything."
"She believed you?"
"I think that she did," I answered.
His face softened.
"The Duke showed me from the door himself," he said. "You will not
object to my sending a note to Lady Angela by your servant?"
"Make whatever use of him you choose," I answered. "There are pen and
ink and notepaper upon the table."
Then I settled down to my work. Ray wrote his note, and went upstairs
to sleep. In an hour's time he was down again. There were black rims
under his eyes, and I could see at once that he had had no rest.
Grooton had brought his bag from the house, and a note from Lady Angela.
He read it with unchanging face, and placed it carefully in his breast
coat-pocket.
"I am off to the village to send some telegrams," he said, "and
afterwards I shall go on for a walk." "What about lunch?" I asked,
glancing at the clock. "None for me," he answered. "Some tea at four
o'clock, if I may have it. I will be back by then." He swung off, and I
was thankful, for my work demanded my whole attention and very careful
thought. At a few minutes after four he returned, and Grooton brought
us some tea. Directly we were alone Ray looked across at me with a
black frown upon his face.
"You know what they are saying in the village about you, young man?"
"I can guess," I answered.
"Who is this girl, Blanche Moyat?"
"A farmer's daughter," I answered. "It seems that I paid her too much
or too little, attention, I am not sure which. At any rate, she has an
imaginary grievance against me, and this is the result."
"She tells the truth?"
"I have not heard her story," I answered, "but it is true that I
encouraged her to suppress the fact that she bad seen the man in the
village, and that he had asked for me."
"What folly!"
"Perhaps," I answered. "You see, I thought that a verdict of 'found
drowned' would save trouble."
"This accursed woman at the Grange is in it, I know," Ray remarked,
slowly filling his pipe. "I wonder if she knew that I was about? That
would give her a zest for the job."
"She knows that you were at Braster at the time," I said. "It was the
night of your lecture."
Ray began to blow out dense clouds of smoke.
"We're safe," he said thoughtfully, "both of us. There's just a link in
the chain missing."
"The police have been here with a warrant in search of that link," I
remarked.
"They'll never find it, for it's in my pocket," he remarked grimly.
"Colonel Ray," I said, suddenly nerving myself to risk his anger, "there
is a question which I must ask you."
I saw his lips come firmly together. He neither encouraged nor checked
me.
"Who was that man?"
"You are better ignorant."
"Was it my father?"
If he did not answer my question, it at least seemed to suggest
something to him.
"Has that woman been here?" he asked.
"Yes."
"She believes that it was your father?"
"She does."
He removed his pipe from his teeth and looked at it thoughtfully.
"Ah!" he said.
"You have not answered my question," I reminded him.
"Nor am I going to," he replied coolly. "You know already as much as is
good for you."
He rose and threw open the door of my cottage. For several moments he
stood bareheaded, looking up towards the house, looking and listening.
He glanced at his watch, and walked several times backwards and forwards
from the edge of the cliff to my door. Then he came in for his hat and
stick.
"I am going down to the sea," he said. "If Lady Angela comes, will you
call me? I shall not be out of hearing."
"You are expecting her?" I asked, looking down at my work.
"Yes. It was necessary for me to see her somewhere, so I asked her to
come here. Perhaps the Duke has found out and stopped her. Anyhow,
call me if she comes."
He stepped outside, and I heard him scrambling down the cliff. I set my
teeth and turned to my work. It was a hard thing to have my little
room, with its store of memories, turned into a meeting-place for these
two. I at least would take care to be far enough away. And then I
began wondering whether she would come. I was still wondering when I
heard her footsteps.
She came in unaccustomed garb to me. She wore a grey dress of some soft
material, and a large black hat with feathers. Her skirts were gathered
up in her hand, and I heard the jingling of harness at the corner of the
avenue where her carriage was waiting. I opened the door, and she
entered with a soft swish of silk and a gentle rustling. The room
seemed instantly full of perfume of Neapolitan violets, a great bunch of
which were in her bosom.
She looked swiftly around, and I fancied that it was a relief to her to
find me alone.
"Is Colonel Ray here?" she asked.
"He is waiting for you," I answered, "on the sands. I promised to call
him directly you came."
I moved toward the door, but she checked me with an imperative gesture.
"Wait," she said.
I came slowly back and stood by my table. She was sitting with her
hands clasped together, looking into the fire. She looked very girlish
and frail.
"I want to think--for a moment," she said. "Everything seems confusion.
My father has commanded me to break my engagement with Colonel Ray."
I remained silent. What was there, indeed, for me to say?
"In my heart," she went on slowly, "I know that my father is wrong and
that Colonel Ray is right. He has simply done his duty. Blenavon was
being sorely tempted. He is better away--out of the country. Oh, I am
sure of that."
"Colonel Ray has done what he believed to be his duty," I said slowly.
"It is hard that he should suffer for that."
"Often," she murmured, "one has to suffer for doing the right thing. My
father has made himself a poor man because of his sense of what was
right. I do not know what to do."
I glanced out of the window. For many reasons I did not wish to prolong
this interview.
"He is waiting," I reminded her.
"I must do one of two things," she murmured. "I must break my faith
with my father--or with him."
Then she lifted her eyes to mine.
"Tell me what you think, Mr. Ducaine?" she asked.
I opened my lips to speak, but I could not. Was it fair that she should
ask me? My little room was peopled with dreams of her, with delightful
but impossible visions. My very nerves were full of the joy of her
presence. It was madness to ask for my judgment, when the very poetry
of my life was an unreasoning and hopeless love for her.
"I cannot!" I muttered. "You must not ask me."
She seemed surprised. After all, I had guarded my secret well, then?
"You will not refuse to help me," she pleaded.
I set my teeth hard. I longed for Ray, but there were no signs of him.
"Your father has ordered you to break your engagement with Colonel Ray,"
I said, "but he has done so under a misapprehension of the facts. You
owe obedience to your father, but you owe more--to--the man whose wife
you have promised to be. I do not think you should give him up."
She listened eagerly. Was it my fancy, or was she indeed a little
paler? Her eyes seemed to gleam with a strange softness in the
twilight. Her head drooped a a little as she resumed her former
thoughtful attitude.
"Thank you," she said, simply. "I believe that you are right."
I caught up a bundle of papers from my desk and stole softly from the
room. Ray was close at hand, and I called to him.
"She is in there waiting for you," I said. "I have some transcribed
matter, which I am taking up to the safe."
Ray nodded abruptly, and I heard the door of my cottage open and close
behind him.