III.

While the malignant tongues had been playing havoc with Somerset’s

fame in the ears of Paula and her companion, the young man himself was

proceeding partly by rail, partly on foot, below and amid the olive-clad

hills, vineyards, carob groves, and lemon gardens of the Mediterranean

shores. Arrived at San Remo he wrote to Nice to inquire for letters,

and such as had come were duly forwarded; but not one of them was from

Paula. This broke down his resolution to hold off, and he hastened

directly to Genoa, regretting that he had not taken this step when he

first heard that she was there.

Something in the very aspect of the marble halls of that city, which at

any other time he would have liked to linger over, whispered to him that

the bird had flown; and inquiry confirmed the fancy. Nevertheless, the

architectural beauties of the palace-bordered street, looking as if

mountains of marble must have been levelled to supply the materials

for constructing it, detained him there two days: or rather a feat

of resolution, by which he set himself to withstand the drag-chain of

Paula’s influence, was operative for that space of time.

At the end of it he moved onward. There was no difficulty in discovering

their track northwards; and feeling that he might as well return to

England by the Rhine route as by any other, he followed in the course

they had chosen, getting scent of them in Strassburg, missing them at

Baden by a day, and finally overtaking them at Carlsruhe, which town he

reached on the morning after the Power and De Stancy party had taken

up their quarters at the ancient inn above mentioned. When Somerset

was about to get out of the train at this place, little dreaming what

a meaning the word Carlsruhe would have for him in subsequent years, he

was disagreeably surprised to see no other than Dare stepping out of the

adjoining carriage. A new brown leather valise in one of his hands, a

new umbrella in the other, and a new suit of fashionable clothes on

his back, seemed to denote considerable improvement in the young man’s

fortunes. Somerset was so struck by the circumstance of his being on

this spot that he almost missed his opportunity for alighting.

Dare meanwhile had moved on without seeing his former employer, and

Somerset resolved to take the chance that offered, and let him go. There

was something so mysterious in their common presence simultaneously

at one place, five hundred miles from where they had last met, that

he exhausted conjecture on whether Dare’s errand this way could have

anything to do with his own, or whether their juxtaposition a second

time was the result of pure accident. Greatly as he would have liked

to get this answered by a direct question to Dare himself, he did not

counteract his first instinct, and remained unseen.

They went out in different directions, when Somerset for the first time

remembered that, in learning at Baden that the party had flitted towards

Carlsruhe, he had taken no care to ascertain the name of the hotel

they were bound for. Carlsruhe was not a large place and the point was

immaterial, but the omission would necessitate a little inquiry. To

follow Dare on the chance of his having fixed upon the same quarters

was a course which did not commend itself. He resolved to get some lunch

before proceeding with his business--or fatuity--of discovering the

elusive lady, and drove off to a neighbouring tavern, which did not

happen to be, as he hoped it might, the one chosen by those who had

preceded him.

Meanwhile Dare, previously master of their plans, went straight to the

house which sheltered them, and on entering under the archway from the

Lange-Strasse was saved the trouble of inquiring for Captain De Stancy

by seeing him drinking bitters at a little table in the court. Had

Somerset chosen this inn for his quarters instead of the one in the

Market-Place which he actually did choose, the three must inevitably

have met here at this moment, with some possibly striking dramatic

results; though what they would have been remains for ever hidden in the

darkness of the unfulfilled.

De Stancy jumped up from his chair, and went forward to the new-comer.

‘You are not long behind us, then,’ he said, with laconic disquietude.

‘I thought you were going straight home?’

‘I was,’ said Dare, ‘but I have been blessed with what I may call a

small competency since I saw you last. Of the two hundred francs you

gave me I risked fifty at the tables, and I have multiplied them, how

many times do you think? More than four hundred times.’

De Stancy immediately looked grave. ‘I wish you had lost them,’ he said,

with as much feeling as could be shown in a place where strangers were

hovering near.

‘Nonsense, captain! I have proceeded purely on a calculation of chances;

and my calculations proved as true as I expected, notwithstanding a

little in-and-out luck at first. Witness this as the result.’ He smacked

his bag with his umbrella, and the chink of money resounded from within.

‘Just feel the weight of it!’

‘It is not necessary. I take your word.’

‘Shall I lend you five pounds?’

‘God forbid! As if that would repay me for what you have cost me! But

come, let’s get out of this place to where we can talk more freely.’ He

put his hand through the young man’s arm, and led him round the corner

of the hotel towards the Schloss-Platz.

‘These runs of luck will be your ruin, as I have told you before,’

continued Captain De Stancy. ‘You will be for repeating and repeating

your experiments, and will end by blowing your brains out, as wiser

heads than yours have done. I am glad you have come away, at any rate.

Why did you travel this way?’

‘Simply because I could afford it, of course.--But come, captain,

something has ruffled you to-day. I thought you did not look in the best

temper the moment I saw you. Every sip you took of your pick-up as you

sat there showed me something was wrong. Tell your worry!’

‘Pooh--I can tell you in two words,’ said the captain satirically. ‘Your

arrangement for my wealth and happiness--for I suppose you still claim

it to be yours--has fallen through. The lady has announced to-day that

she means to send for Somerset instantly. She is coming to a personal

explanation with him. So woe to me--and in another sense, woe to you, as

I have reason to fear.’

‘Send for him!’ said Dare, with the stillness of complete abstraction.

‘Then he’ll come.’

‘Well,’ said De Stancy, looking him in the face. ‘And does it make you

feel you had better be off? How about that telegram? Did he ask you to

send it, or did he not?’

‘One minute, or I shall be up such a tree as nobody ever saw the like

of.’

‘Then what did you come here for?’ burst out De Stancy. ‘’Tis my belief

you are no more than a--But I won’t call you names; I’ll tell you quite

plainly that if there is anything wrong in that message to her--which

I believe there is--no, I can’t believe, though I fear it--you have the

chance of appearing in drab clothes at the expense of the Government

before the year is out, and I of being eternally disgraced!’

‘No, captain, you won’t be disgraced. I am bad to beat, I can tell you.

And come the worst luck, I don’t say a word.’

‘But those letters pricked in your skin would say a good deal, it

strikes me.’

‘What! would they strip me?--but it is not coming to that. Look here,

now, I’ll tell you the truth for once; though you don’t believe me

capable of it. I DID concoct that telegram--and sent it; just as a

practical joke; and many a worse one has been only laughed at by honest

men and officers. I could show you a bigger joke still--a joke of

jokes--on the same individual.’

Dare as he spoke put his hand into his breast-pocket, as if the said

joke lay there; but after a moment he withdrew his hand empty, as he

continued:

‘Having invented it I have done enough; I was going to explain it to

you, that you might carry it out. But you are so serious, that I will

leave it alone. My second joke shall die with me.’

‘So much the better,’ said De Stancy. ‘I don’t like your jokes, even

though they are not directed against myself. They express a kind of

humour which does not suit me.’

‘You may have reason to alter your mind,’ said Dare carelessly. ‘Your

success with your lady may depend on it. The truth is, captain, we

aristocrats must not take too high a tone. Our days as an independent

division of society, which holds aloof from other sections, are past.

This has been my argument (in spite of my strong Norman feelings) ever

since I broached the subject of your marrying this girl, who represents

both intellect and wealth--all, in fact, except the historical prestige

that you represent. And we mustn’t flinch at things. The case is even

more pressing than ordinary cases--owing to the odd fact that the

representative of the new blood who has come in our way actually lives

in your own old house, and owns your own old lands. The ordinary reason

for such alliances is quintupled in our case. Do then just think and

be reasonable, before you talk tall about not liking my jokes, and all

that. Beggars mustn’t be choosers.’

‘There’s really much reason in your argument,’ said De Stancy, with a

bitter laugh: ‘and my own heart argues much the same way. But, leaving

me to take care of my aristocratic self, I advise your aristocratic

self to slip off at once to England like any hang-gallows dog; and if

Somerset is here, and you have been doing wrong in his name, and it all

comes out, I’ll try to save you, as far as an honest man can. If you

have done no wrong, of course there is no fear; though I should be

obliged by your going homeward as quickly as possible, as being better

both for you and for me.... Hullo--Damnation!’

They had reached one side of the Schloss-Platz, nobody apparently being

near them save a sentinel who was on duty before the Palace; but turning

as he spoke, De Stancy beheld a group consisting of his sister, Paula,

and Mr. Power, strolling across the square towards them.

It was impossible to escape their observation, and putting a bold front

upon it, De Stancy advanced with Dare at his side, till in a few moments

the two parties met, Paula and Charlotte recognizing Dare at once as the

young man who assisted at the castle.

‘I have met my young photographer,’ said De Stancy cheerily. ‘What a

small world it is, as everybody truly observes! I am wishing he could

take some views for us as we go on; but you have no apparatus with you,

I suppose, Mr. Dare?’

‘I have not, sir, I am sorry to say,’ replied Dare respectfully.

‘You could get some, I suppose?’ asked Paula of the interesting young

photographer.

Dare declared that it would be not impossible: whereupon De Stancy said

that it was only a passing thought of his; and in a few minutes the two

parties again separated, going their several ways.

‘That was awkward,’ said De Stancy, trembling with excitement. ‘I would

advise you to keep further off in future.’

Dare said thoughtfully that he would be careful, adding, ‘She is a prize

for any man, indeed, leaving alone the substantial possessions behind

her! Now was I too enthusiastic? Was I a fool for urging you on?’

‘Wait till success justifies the undertaking. In case of failure it will

have been anything but wise. It is no light matter to have a carefully

preserved repose broken in upon for nothing--a repose that could never

be restored!’

They walked down the Carl-Friedrichs-Strasse to the Margrave’s Pyramid,

and back to the hotel, where Dare also decided to take up his stay. De

Stancy left him with the book-keeper at the desk, and went upstairs to

see if the ladies had returned.

A Laodicean : A Story of To-day · 第 69 / 86 题