THE WIDENED BREACH
WHEN Sir Hugh entered his cosy study he found the doctor seated at his
ease in the big chair by the fire.
"I thought that, being in the vicinity, I would call and see if you've
recovered from your--well, your silly fit of irritability," he said, with
a grim smile on his grey face as he looked towards the general.
"I have just received bad news--news which I have all along dreaded,"
replied the unhappy man, the telegram still in his hand. "Paul Le Pontois
has been arrested on some mysterious charge--false, without a doubt!"
"Yes," replied Weirmarsh; "it is most unfortunate. I heard it an hour
ago, and the real reason of my visit was to tell you of the
_contretemps_."
"Someone must have made a false charge against him," cried the general
excitedly. "The poor fellow is innocent--entirely innocent! I only have a
brief telegram from his wife. She is in despair, and leaves for London
to-night."
"My dear Sir Hugh, France is in a very hysterical mood just now. Of
course, there must be some mistake. Some private enemy of his has made
the charge without a doubt--someone jealous of his position, perhaps.
Allegations are easily made, though not so easily substantiated."
"Except by manufactured evidence and forged documents," snapped Sir Hugh.
"If Paul is the victim of some political party and is to be made a
scapegoat, then Heaven help him, poor fellow. They will never allow him
to prove his innocence, unless----"
"Unless what?"
"Unless I come forward," he said very slowly, staring straight before
him. "Unless I come forward and tell the truth of my dealings with you.
The charges against Paul are false. I know it now. What have you to say?"
he added in a low, hard voice.
"A great deal of good that would do!" laughed Weirmarsh, selecting a
cigarette from his gold case and lighting it, regarding his host with
those narrow-set, sinister eyes of his. "It would only implicate Le
Pontois further. They would say, and with truth, that you knew of the
whole conspiracy and had profited by it."
"I should tell them what I know concerning you. Indeed, I wrote out a
full statement while I was staying with Paul. And I have it ready to hand
for the authorities."
"You can do so, of course, if you choose," was the careless reply. "It
really doesn't matter to me what statement you make. You have always
preserved silence up to the present, therefore I should believe that in
this case silence was still golden."
"And you suggest that I stand calmly by and see Le Pontois sentenced to a
long term of imprisonment for a crime which he has not committed, eh?"
"I don't suggest anything, my dear Sir Hugh," was the man's reply; "I
leave it all to your good judgment."
Since they had met in secret Weirmarsh had made a flying visit to
Brussels, where he had conferred with two friends of his. Upon their
suggestion he was now acting.
If Paul Le Pontois were secretly denounced and afterwards found innocent,
then it would only mystify the French police; the policy pursued towards
the Sûreté, as well as towards Sir Hugh, was a clever move on Weirmarsh's
part.
"What am I to say to my poor girl when she arrives here in tears
to-morrow?" demanded the fine old British officer hoarsely.
"You know that best yourself," was Weirmarsh's brusque reply.
"To you I owe all my recent troubles," the elder man declared.
"Because--because," he added bitterly, "you bought me up body and soul."
"A mere business arrangement, wasn't it, Sir Hugh?" remarked his visitor.
"Of course, I'm very sorry if any great trouble has fallen upon you on my
account. I hope, for instance, you do not suspect me of conspiring to
denounce your son-in-law," he added.
"Well, I don't know," was the other's reply; "yet I feel that, in view of
this _contretemps_, I must in future break off all connection with you."
"And lose the annual grant which you find so extremely useful?"
"I shall be compelled to do without it. And, at least, I shall have peace
of mind."
"Perhaps," remarked the other meaningly.
Sir Hugh realised that this man intended still to hold him in the hollow
of his hand. From that one false step he had taken years ago he had never
been able to draw back.
Hour by hour, and day by day, had his conscience pricked him. Those chats
with the doctor in that grimy little consulting-room in Pimlico remained
ever in his memory.
The doctor was the representative of those who held him in their
power--persons who were being continually hunted by the police, yet who
always evaded them--criminals all! To insult him would be to insult those
who had paid him so well for his confidential services.
Yet, filled with contempt for himself, he asked whether he did not
deserve to be degraded publicly, and drummed out of the army.
Were it not for Lady Elcombe and Enid he would long ago have gone to East
Africa and effaced himself. But he could not bring himself to desert
them.
He had satisfied himself that not a soul in England suspected the truth,
for, by the Press, he had long ago been declared to be a patriotic
Briton, because in his stirring public speeches, when he had put up for
Parliament after the armistice, there was always a genuine "John Bull"
ring.
The truth was that he remained unsuspected by all--save by one man who
had scented the truth. That man was Walter Fetherston!
Walter alone knew the ghastly circumstances, and it was he who had been
working to save the old soldier from himself. He did so for two
reasons--first, because he was fond of the bluff, fearless old fellow,
and, secondly, because he had been attracted by Enid, and intended to
rescue her from the evil thraldom of Weirmarsh.
"Why have you returned here to taunt and irritate me again?" snapped Sir
Hugh after a pause.
"I came to tell you news which, apparently, you have already received."
"You could well have kept it. You knew that I should be informed in due
course."
"Yes--but I--well, I thought you might grow apprehensive perhaps."
"In what direction?"
"That your connection with the little affair might be discovered by the
French police. Bézard, the new chief of the Sûreté, is a pretty shrewd
person, remember!"
"But, surely, that is not possible, is it?" gasped the elder man in quick
alarm.
"No; you can reassure yourself on that point. Le Pontois knows nothing,
therefore he can make no statement--unless, of course, your own actions
were suspicious."
"They were not--I am convinced of that."
"Then you have no need to fear. Your son-in-law will certainly not
endeavour to implicate you. And if he did, he would not be believed,"
declared the doctor, although he well knew that Bézard was in possession
of full knowledge of the whole truth, and that, only by the timely
warning he had so mysteriously received, had this man before him and his
stepdaughter escaped arrest.
His dastardly plot to secure their ruin and imprisonment had failed. How
the girl had obtained wind of it utterly mystified him. It was really in
order to discover the reason of their sudden flight that he had made
those two visits.
"Look here, Weirmarsh," exclaimed Sir Hugh with sudden resolution, "I
wish you to understand that from to-day, once and for all, I desire to
have no further dealings with you. It was, as you have said, a purely
business transaction. Well, I have done the dirty, disgraceful work for
which you have paid me, and now my task is at an end."
"I hardly think it is, my dear Sir Hugh," replied the doctor calmly. "As
I have said before, I am only the mouthpiece--I am not the employer. But
I believe that certain further assistance is required--information which
you promised long ago, but failed to procure."
"What was that?"
"You recollect that you promised to obtain something--a little
tittle-tattle--concerning a lady."
"Yes," snapped the old officer, "oh, Lady Wansford. Let us talk of
something else!"
Weirmarsh, who had been narrowly watching the countenance of his victim,
saw that he had mentioned a disagreeable subject. He noted how pale were
the general's cheeks, and how his thin hands twitched with suppressed
excitement.
"I am quite ready to talk of other matters," he answered, "though I deem
it but right to refer to my instructions."
"And what are they?"
"To request you to supply the promised information."
"But I can't--_I really can't_!"
"You made a promise, remember. And upon that promise I made you a loan of
five hundred pounds."
"I know!" cried the unhappy man, who had sunk so deeply into the mire
that extrication seemed impossible. "I know! But it is a promise that I
can't fulfil. I won't be your tool any longer. Gad! I won't. Don't you
hear me?"
"You must!" declared Weirmarsh, bending forward and looking straight into
his eyes.
"I will not!" shouted Sir Hugh, his eyes flashing with quick anger.
"Anything but that."
"Why?"
"My efforts in that direction had tragic results on the last occasion."
"Ah!" laughed Weirmarsh. "I see you are superstitious--or something. I
did not expect that of you."
"I am not superstitious, Weirmarsh. I only refuse to do what you want. If
I gave it to you, it would mean--no I won't--I tell you I won't!"
"Bah! You are growing sentimental!"
"No--I am growing wise. My eyes are at last opened to the dastardly
methods of you and your infernal friends. Hear me, once and for all; I
refuse to assist you further; and, moreover, I defy you!"
The doctor was silent for a moment, contemplating the ruby on his finger.
Then, rising slowly from his chair, he said: "Ah! you do not fully
realise what your refusal may cost you."
"Cost what it may, Weirmarsh, I ask you to leave my house at once," said
the general, scarlet with anger and beside himself with remorse. "And I
shall give orders that you are not again to be admitted here."
"Very good!" laughed the other, with a sinister grin. "You will very soon
be seeking me in my surgery."
"We shall see," replied Sir Hugh, with a shrug of his shoulders, as the
other strode out of his room.