THE RUSTLE OF A SKIRT
"You graceless young dog!" cried Kent-Lauriston, falling upon Stanley in
a half-feigned, half-real burst of anger, as he entered the smoking-room
after his encounter with Belle. "Do you know you've caused me to refuse
invitations by the score, and dragged me down to this God-forsaken
place, at the most impossible season of the year, on false pretences?"
"False pretences! How so?"
"Why? You shameless Lothario! Why? Because what's left of my conscience
smote me for leaving a lamb amidst a pack of wolves, and wouldn't let me
rest; nearly destroyed my digestion, I give you my word. I came down to
pluck your innocence alive from the burning, and I've been a fool for my
pains. Why, confound you, I not only find you _epris_ with Madame Darcy,
but engaged to both the Fitzgerald and Lady Isabelle."
"My dear Kent-Lauriston, pray soothe your ruffled feelings; your logic
is excellent, but your premises are one and all false."
"What!"
"I say there's nothing between Madame Darcy and myself, and that I'm
neither engaged to Miss Fitzgerald nor Lady Isabelle."
"But, my dear Stanley, I've heard----"
"But, my dear Kent-Lauriston, you've heard wrongly."
"What--isn't Madame Darcy here?"
"Yes."
"And haven't you seen her?"
"Yes."
"And walked with her early in the morning?"
"Yes."
"And breakfasted with her, _tete-a-tete_ at a farmhouse?"
"Yes."
"And hasn't her husband challenged you to a duel on her account?"
"Yes."
"And didn't he, moreover, catch you in the act of proposing to Miss
Fitzgerald?"
"Yes."
"And haven't you asked the Marchioness for Lady Isabelle's hand?"
"Yes."
"And in the face of all this--you attempt to deny----"
"In the face of all this--circumstantial evidence--I'm quite prepared to
deny everything. Would you like to hear the _facts_ of the case?"
"Rather!"
As will have been inferred, the two men had the smoking-room entirely to
themselves, and the best part of an hour passed before the Secretary
had finished his account of events with which the reader is familiar.
Kent-Lauriston heard him out with great interest, and after drawing a
long breath, at the close of his recital, remarked:--
"I think I shall be fully repaid for any inconvenience to which I've put
myself on your account. This whole affair is most interesting, and,
believe me, there's more in it than appears on the surface."
"I feel the same way myself," replied the Secretary; "but let us hear
your views on the subject."
"First," replied his friend, "you must assure me of how you yourself
stand. Are you still in your unregenerate state, or have you yet begun
to see the fruits of your folly?"
The young diplomat was silent for a long time, but finally he said,
looking up into Kent-Lauriston's face with an almost appealing glance:
"I'm afraid you would think me awfully caddish if I told you the truth
about it."
"About the state of your affections for Miss Fitzgerald, you mean?"
"Yes."
"Of course, I shouldn't think you justified in making a public
declaration of a change of sentiment, because it might seem to reflect
on the lady, but in my case it's very different. Having spoken so
frankly and freely on the subject already, I might almost say that you
owe it to me to continue to do so. Certainly I've given you no cause
for reticence by anything I've done, and, as certainly, you must confide
fully in me if you wish my help in the future."
"Well, then, the truth is," he blurted out, "that you were right and I
was wrong, and I've found it out too late."
"I thought as much."
"But I'm not going back on my word. If I've made a mistake, I must
suffer for it; and if Miss Fitzgerald accepts my proposal, which she now
has under consideration, I shall live up to my part of the agreement;
and if I can prevent it, she shall never suspect that I would have
matters otherwise. If she should refuse me, however----"
"You'd make a fool of yourself just the same," continued Kent-Lauriston,
"by jumping out of the frying-pan into the fire, and marrying Madame
Darcy the instant she obtained her divorce."
"Kent-Lauriston," Stanley exclaimed, "you know a d----d sight too much!"
The Englishman laughed softly, and then resumed the thread of his
discourse.
"Now that I understand your position----" he began.
"Do you understand it?"
"Better than you do yourself, I fancy; let me see if I can state it.
You've proposed to Miss Fitzgerald, and she has taken the question of
marrying you into consideration; since which time you have come to the
conclusion, for reasons which we will not specify out of consideration
for your feelings, that, if she refuses, or could be induced to refuse
you, you'd accept the decision without an appeal. Am I correct?"
The Secretary nodded gloomily.
"Under the circumstances, do you give me permission to do what I can to
effect your release?"
"Do what you please."
"I'll do my best. Now what induced you to propose to her against your
better judgment? Did she lead you on?"
"No, certainly not--if you suppose----!"
"Well, something must have started you up."
"Charges were made against her. I thought it my duty to tell her what
had been said----"
"How did she receive it?"
"She accused me of being a false friend, of not having defended her."
"And you proposed--when--that day?"
"No, the next night."
"I see, the next night; because you thought it your duty to protect
her."
"Confound you. You read me like a book."
"An open page is easy reading. Now who made the charges?"
"Kingsland."
"I thought so. Whom did they concern?"
"Darcy."
"Exactly. And at the very moment that you were asking her to give you
the right to protect her from men of Darcy's stamp--he turns up and
proves you the worst of the lot."
"And she-- I wonder she didn't refuse me out of hand."
"I wonder she didn't accept you--but let that pass. All I wish to point
out to you is this:--Kingsland drove you by the charges he made against
Darcy to propose to Miss Fitzgerald. What was his motive for doing so?"
"Friendship for Miss Fitzgerald."
"Would that be likely to induce him to make serious charges against
her?"
"Friendship for me."
"Nonsense! I know the man. He did it because it paid him to do it."
"How was that possible?"
"I can suggest one motive. The removal of the obstacles preventing Lady
Isabelle's secret marriage. Now who could have effected this? Not Lady
Isabelle, she never had the audacity to carry out such a scheme; not
Kingsland, he hasn't brains enough; our hostess is above suspicion; in
fact there's only one person who could have conceived and carried out
the plan to its successful conclusion--namely, Miss Fitzgerald."
"What grounds have you for proving it?"
"Was she with the parson at all, before the ceremony?"
"I knew you'd ask that question!"
"Then she was."
"Twice, on the days just preceding--to my knowledge."
"That's sufficient."
"Not for me."
"Then I'll tell you where we can find the missing link of evidence."
"Where?"
"In the marriage register of the church. Find the names of the
witnesses, and you'll find the people who have carried it through. If
you'll kindly leave it in my hands, I'll verify my statements to-morrow
morning. I'd prefer that you did not do it yourself."
"As you please. But even admitting you're right, it doesn't give the
cause for the motive."
"Oh, yes, it does--Miss Fitzgerald's intervention in this matter was the
price of Kingsland's egging you on to propose."
"Nonsense!"
"I'll lay you a thousand to one on it."
Stanley shrugged his shoulders, saying:--
"But your own arguments defeat you, my dear fellow. If Miss Fitzgerald
was such a calculating person, why should she put herself out, and run
the risk of compromising herself, merely to induce the Lieutenant to
play upon my jealousy, when, as you've already shown, and I've admitted,
I was so weak as to make such strategy unnecessary."
"Perhaps that was not the only favour Miss Fitzgerald looked for, and
the Lieutenant's hands----"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, taking five chests for her to London."
"Oh," said the Secretary, much relieved, "I know all about that. I quite
assure you it has nothing to do with Miss Fitzgerald."
"But I heard her asking Kingsland to take them up for her this
afternoon, and to put them in his bank."
"Look here, Kent-Lauriston, your dislike for poor Belle must have got
the better of your common sense. You certainly misinterpreted what she
said. Those chests belong to Mr. Riddle."
Kent-Lauriston changed the subject.
"What is Colonel Darcy here for?"
"He says, to watch his wife."
"What is she here for?"
"She says she has letters written to her husband by some member of this
household, which have aroused her suspicions."
"That sounds more promising. Who is this person?"
"A woman of course--but she only knows her Christian name."
"And that is?"
"She will not tell me."
"Ah!" said Kent-Lauriston drily.
"I've sources of information about Darcy, which I'm not at liberty to
give you," resumed Stanley, "but you're not on the right track, believe
me."
"Time will prove the correctness of some of my theories, at least,"
replied his mentor, "and I shall be better able to talk when I've seen
the marriage register. Now let's have something to drink, and go to
bed;" and he pressed the bell.
An interval having elapsed without an answer, he rang again, but no
servant appeared.
"It must be later than I thought. We'll have to shift for ourselves.
There'll be something going in the billiard-room."
"Hark!" said Stanley. "There's somebody in the hall; it's probably the
butler shutting up for the night."
They both listened, and a peculiar, shuffling, scraping sound became
audible.
"That's a curious noise," said the Secretary. "Let's see what it means,"
and, suiting the action to the word, he threw open the smoking-room
door.
The light in the hall was turned out, and the sombre black oak panelling
made the great apartment seem darker than it really was. Absolute
stillness reigned. It was, to all appearance, empty.
"Must have been rats," said the Secretary. "Everyone seems to have
retired."
"Have they?" said Kent-Lauriston.
"Listen!"
And both could have sworn that they heard, far up the hall, the dying
rustle of a skirt. But there were some things that Stanley had no wish
to know, and he set his face and his steps towards the stairs,
continuing:--
"As I was saying, we are the only people up.
"Then we'd better go to bed."
"By all means."
"Shall I turn out the electric lights in the smoking-room?"
"Yes, we're evidently the last."
A moment later they stood on the upper landing about to separate for the
night.
"The woman was behind that screen at the foot of the stairs," said
Kent-Lauriston.
"Yes, I know," replied the Secretary.
"Good-night, my dear Stanley."
"Good-night, old man. You possess a rare talent."
"Yes?"
"You know when not to ask questions."