REVEALS TEMPTATION
"I TELL you it can't be done--the risk is far too great!" declared Sir
Hugh Elcombe, standing with his back to the fireplace in his cosy little
den in Hill Street at noon next day.
"It must be done," answered Dr. Weirmarsh, who sat in the deep green
leather arm-chair, with the tips of his fingers placed together.
The general glanced suspiciously at the door to reassure himself that it
was closed.
"You ask too much," he said. Then, in a decisive voice, while his fingers
toyed nervously with his monocle, he added, "I have resolved to end it
once and for all."
The doctor looked at him with a strange expression in those cold, keen
eyes of his and smiled, "I fear, Sir Hugh, that if you attempt to carry
out such a decision you will find insuperable difficulties," he said
quietly.
"I desire no good advice from you, Weirmarsh," the old general snapped.
"I fully realise my position. You have cornered me--cut off my
retreat--so I have placed my back against the wall."
"Good! And how will such an attitude benefit you, pray?"
"Understand, I am in no mood to be taunted by you!" the old man cried,
with an angry flash in his eyes. "You very cleverly enticed me into the
net, and now you are closing it about me."
"My dear Sir Hugh," replied the doctor, "ours was a mere business
transaction, surely. Carry your thoughts back to six years ago. After
your brilliant military career you returned from India and found
yourself, as so many of your profession find themselves, in very
straitened circumstances. You were bound to keep up appearances, and, in
order to do so, got into the hands of Eli Moser, the moneylender. You
married Lady Orlebar, and had entered London society when, of a sudden,
the scoundrelly usurer began to put the screw upon you. At that moment
you--luckily, I think, for yourself--met me, and--well, I was your
salvation, for I pointed out to you an easy way by which to pay your
creditors and rearrange your affairs upon a sound financial basis.
Indeed, I did it for you. I saved you from the moneylender. Did I not?"
He spoke in a calm, even tone, without once removing his eyes from the
man who stood upon the hearthrug with bent head and folded arms.
"I know, Weirmarsh. It's true that you saved me from bankruptcy--but
think what penalty I have paid by accepting your terms," he answered in a
low, broken voice. "The devil tempted me, and I fell into your damnable
net."
"I hardly think it necessary for you to put it that way," replied the
doctor without the least sign of annoyance. "I showed you how you could
secure quite a comfortable income, and you readily enough adopted my
suggestion."
"Readily!" echoed the fine-looking old soldier. "Ah! you don't know what
my decision cost me--it has cost me my very life."
"Nonsense, man," laughed the doctor scornfully. "You got out of the hands
of the Jews, and ever since that day you haven't had five minutes' worry
over your finances. I promised you I would provide you with an ample
income, and----"
"And you've done so, Weirmarsh," cried the old general; "an income far
greater than I expected. Yet what do I deserve?"
"My dear General," said the doctor quite calmly, "you're not yourself
to-day; suffering from a slight attack of remorse, eh? It's a bad
complaint; I've had it, and I know. But it's like the measles--you're
very nearly certain to contract it once in a lifetime."
"Have you no pity for me?" snarled Sir Hugh, glaring at the narrow-eyed
man seated before him. "Don't you realise that by this last demand of
yours you've driven me into a corner?"
Weirmarsh's brows contracted slightly, and he shot an evil glance at the
man before him--the man who was his victim. "But you must do it. You
still want money--and lots of it, don't you?" he said in a low, decisive
voice.
"I refuse, I tell you!" cried Sir Hugh angrily.
"Hush! Someone may overhear," the doctor said. "Is Enid at home?"
"Yes."
"I saw her last night, as you wished. She is not well. Her nerves are
still in an extremely weak state," Weirmarsh said, in order to change the
topic of conversation. "I think you should send her abroad out of the
way--to the South somewhere."
"So she told me. I shall try and get Mrs. Caldwell to take her to
Sicily--if you consider the air would be beneficial."
"Excellent--Palermo or Taormina--send the girl there as soon as ever you
can. She seems unstrung, and may get worse; a change will certainly do
her good," replied the man whose craft and cunning were unequalled. "I
know," he added reflectively, "that Enid dislikes me--why, I can never
make out."
"Instinct, I suppose, Weirmarsh," was the old man's reply. "She suspects
that you hold me in your power, as you undoubtedly do."
"Now that is really a most silly idea of yours, Sir Hugh. Do get rid of
it. Such a thought pains me to a great degree," declared the crafty-eyed
man. "For these past years I have provided you with a good income,
enabling you to keep up your position in the world, instead of--well,
perhaps shivering on the Embankment at night and partaking of the
hospitality of the charitably disposed. Yet you upbraid me as though I
had treated you shabbily!" He spoke with an irritating air of
superiority, for he knew that this man who occupied such a high position,
who was an intimate friend and confidant of the Minister of War, and
universally respected throughout the country, was but a tool in his
unscrupulous hands.
"You ask me too much," exclaimed the grey-moustached officer in a hard,
low voice.
"The request does not emanate from me," was the doctor's reply; "I am
but the mouthpiece."
"Yes, the mouthpiece--but the eyes and ears also, Weirmarsh," replied Sir
Hugh. "You bought me, body and soul, for a wage of five thousand pounds a
year----"
"The salary of one of His Majesty's Ministers," interrupted the doctor.
"It has been paid you with regularity, together with certain extras. When
you have wished for a loan of five hundred or so, I have never refused
it."
"I quite admit that; but you've always received a _quid pro quo_," the
general snapped. "Look at the thousands upon thousands I put through for
you!"
"The whole transaction has from the beginning been a matter of business;
and, as far as I am concerned, I have fulfilled my part of the contract."
The man standing upon the hearthrug sighed. "I suppose," he said, "that I
really have no right to complain. I clutched at the straw you held out to
me, and saved myself at a cost greater than the world can ever know. I
hate myself for it. If I had then known what I know now concerning you
and your friends, I would rather have blown out my brains than have
listened to your accursed words of temptation. The whole plot is
damnable!"
"My dear fellow, I am not Mephistopheles," laughed the narrow-eyed
doctor.
"You are worse," declared the general boldly. "You bought me body and
soul, but by Heaven!" he cried, "you have not bought my family, sir!"
Weirmarsh moved uneasily in his chair.
"And so you refuse to do this service which I requested of you,
yesterday, eh?" he asked very slowly.
"I do."
A silence fell between the two men, broken only by the low ticking of the
little Sheraton clock upon the mantelshelf.
"Have you fully reflected upon what this refusal of yours may cost you,
General?" asked the doctor in a slow, hard voice, his eyes fixed upon the
other's countenance.
"It will cost me just as much as you decide it shall," was the response
of the unhappy man, who found himself enmeshed by the crafty
practitioner.
"You speak as though I were the principal, whereas I am but the agent,"
Weirmarsh protested.
"Principal or agent, my decision, Doctor, is irrevocable--I refuse to
serve your accursed ends further."
"Really," laughed the other, still entirely unruffled, "your attitude
to-day is quite amusing. You've got an attack of liver, and you should
allow me to prescribe for you."
The general made a quick gesture of impatience, but did not reply.
It was upon the tip of Weirmarsh's tongue to refer to Walter Fetherston,
but next instant he had reflected. If Sir Hugh really intended to abandon
himself to remorse and make a fool of himself, why should he stretch
forth a hand to save him?
That ugly revelations--very ugly ones--might result was quite within the
range of possibility, therefore Weirmarsh, whose craft and cunning were
amazing, intended to cover his own retreat behind the back of the very
man whom he had denounced to Enid Orlebar.
He sat in silence, his finger-tips again joined, gazing upon the man who
had swallowed that very alluring bait he had once placed before him.
He realised by Sir Hugh's manner that he regretted his recent action and
was now overcome by remorse. Remorse meant exposure, and exposure meant
prosecution--a great public prosecution, which, at all hazards, must not
be allowed.
As he sat there he was actually calmly wondering whether this fine old
officer with such a brilliant record would die in silence by his own hand
and carry his secret to the grave, or whether he would leave behind some
awkward written statement which would incriminate himself and those for
whom he acted.
Suddenly Sir Hugh turned and, looking the doctor squarely in the face as
though divining his inmost thoughts, said in a hoarse voice tremulous
with emotion: "Ah, you need not trouble yourself further, Weirmarsh. I
have a big dinner-party to-night, but by midnight I shall have paid the
penalty which you have imposed upon me--I shall have ceased to live. I
will die rather then serve you further!"
"Very well, my dear sir," replied the doctor, rising from his chair
abruptly. "Of course, every man's life is his own property--you can take
it if you think fit--but I assure you that such an event would not
concern me in the least. I have already taken the precaution to appear
with clean hands--should occasion require."