THE TOKEN
"Why wouldn't you see me last night?" said Saltash.
He sat on the corner of the table, swinging a careless leg the while
under quizzical brows he watched Maud arrange a great bunch of violets
in a bowl. The violets were straight from the Burchester frames, and he
had ridden over to present them.
Maud was plainly in a reticent mood. She had accepted the gift indeed,
but with somewhat distant courtesy.
"It was late," she said. "And I was attending to Bunny."
"Bunny!" He echoed the name with half-mocking surprise. "Does he still
engross the whole of your energies? I thought you would have been more
occupied with Jake."
She stiffened ever so slightly at his words. "I only saw him for a few
moments," she said.
"What! Didn't he come to you to tie up his broken head?" said Saltash.
"I nearly killed him, you know. But it was his own fault."
"I am aware of that," Maud said coldly.
"What!" ejaculated Saltash again. "Did he have the impertinence to tell
you so?"
She raised her eyes momentarily; they shone almost black. "He told
me--nothing," she said, her voice deep with a concentrated bitterness
that made him stare. "He was not in a condition to do so."
Saltash continued to stare. "He was talkative enough when he left me,"
he remarked.
Her eyes gazed full into his. "Why should you try to deceive me?" she
said. "Really, you needn't take the trouble."
Comprehension dawned on his face. He laughed a little in an amused
fashion as if to himself. "What! Wasn't the rascal sober when he got
back?"
"You know he was not," she said.
"I know he tumbled out of the car and cracked his head," said Saltash.
"I daresay he'd been celebrating the Mascot's victory. They all do, you
know. But, my dear girl, what of it? Don't look so tragic! You'll get
used to it."
"Don't!" Maud said suddenly in a voice that shook. "You make me--sick."
She bent her face swiftly to the violets, and there was a silence.
Saltash continued to swing his leg, his lips pursed to am inaudible
whistle. Suddenly he spoke. "Please remember that this is quite
unofficial! I don't want a row with Jake!"
"You needn't be afraid," she said, putting the bowl of violets steadily
from her. "No more will be said on the subject by either of us."
"I'm not afraid." Saltash was looking at her hard, with a certain
curiosity. "But with my best friend tied to him for life, it
wouldn't--naturally--be to my interest to quarrel with him."
She flashed him a sudden glance. "I think you had better not call me
that, Charlie," she said.
He laughed carelessly. "I'll call you my dearest enemy, if you like.
It would be almost as near the mark."
She was silent.
He bent suddenly towards her, the laugh gone from his face. "Maud," he
said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice, "you're not wanting
to throw me over?"
She shook her head very slightly. "I can't be on really intimate terms
with you any more," she said. "You must see it's impossible."
"No, I don't," he said. "Why is it impossible?"
She did not answer.
"Come," he said. "That's unreasonable. What have I done to forfeit
your friendship?"
She leaned slowly back in her chair, and met his eyes. "I am quite
willing to be friends," she said. "But--now that I am married--you
mustn't try to flirt with me. I detest married women's flirtations."
He made a wry grimace. "My precious prude, you don't even know the
meaning of the word. Did you ever flirt with anyone in all your pure,
sweet life? The bare idea is ludicrous."
Maud's eyes held his with severity. "No, I never flirted with you,
Charlie," she said. "But I gave you privileges which I can never give
again, which you must never again expect of me. Is that quite clear?"
He stooped towards her, his hands upon her shoulders; his dark face
deeply glowing. "O Maud, the sincere!" he said, in a voice that
vibrated with an odd intensity, half-fierce, half-feigned. "Dare you
look me in the face and tell me that in marrying you have not done
violence to your soul?"
She looked him in the face with absolute steadiness. "I have nothing
whatever to tell you," she said.
He released as suddenly as he had taken her. "There is no need," he
said. "I can read you like a book. I know that if I had been at hand
when your mother brought you down here--as heaven knows I would have
been if I had known--if I had guessed--you would have been ready enough
to marry even me." He stopped, and over his ugly, comic face there came
a strangely tragic look. "You could have dictated your own terms too,"
he said. "I'm not hard to please."
"Charlie, hush!" Sharply she broke in upon him. "That is a forbidden
subject. I told you definitely long ago that I could never marry you.
You know as well as I do that it wouldn't have answered. You would have
tired very quickly of my prim ways--just as you did tire in the old days
when you fancied you cared for me. I couldn't have satisfied you. I am
not the kind of woman you crave for."
"No?" He laughed whimsically. "Yet, you know, you are unjust to
me--always were. I don't know that you can help it, being what you are.
But--if it had been my good luck to marry you--I would have been
faithful to you. It's in my bones to be faithful to one woman. However,
since she is denied me--" he snapped his fingers with an airy
gesture--"_je m'amuse autrement_. By the way, are you coming up to
lunch at the Castle on Sunday?"
"I?" She raised her brows momentarily. "No, I don't think so," she
said.
"What! You won't? Jake's coming."
She lowered her eyes. "No, Charlie," she said firmly. "Bunny has had
one of his bad attacks. He won't be well enough for any excitement, and
of course I couldn't dream of leaving him."
"How you do worship that boy!" said Saltash, with a touch of impatience.
Maud was silent.
"Look here!" he said abruptly. "Why don't you have a proper opinion for
Bunny? I'll lend you the wherewithal. I'm quite well off just now."
She looked up then with eyes of frank gratitude. "Charlie, that's more
than kind of you! But as a matter of fact--Jake has the matter in hand.
He knows an American surgeon--a very clever man--a Dr. Capper, who is
coming to England soon. And he is going to get him to come and examine
Bunny. He--it is really very good of Jake."
She spoke haltingly, with flushed cheeks. Saltash was watching her with
critical eyes.
"Oh, so the worthy Jake has the matter in hand, has he?" he said, as she
paused. "Wise man! I suppose it is no part of his plans to be hampered
with a helpless brother-in-law all his days."
She broke in upon him swiftly. "Charlie! That is ungenerous!"
He laughed. "My dear girl, it is the obvious. Were I in Jake's
position, my first thought would be to relieve you of the all-engrossing
care of Bunny. You don't suppose he married you just to make a home for
Bunny, do you?"
She rose quickly and turned from him. "Why do you try to make things
harder for me?" she said in a voice of passionate protest.
Saltash remained seated, still swinging an idle leg. "On the contrary,
I am anxious to make everything as pleasant as possible," he said.
But there was a slightly malicious twist to his smile and his voice was
suavely mocking, notwithstanding.
Maud moved from him to the window and stood before it very still, with a
queenly pose of bearing wholly unconscious, unapproachably aloof.
He watched her for a space, an odd, dancing gleam in his strange eyes.
At length, as she made no movement, he spoke again, not wholly lightly.
"See here, Maud! As a proof of my goodness of heart where you are
concerned, I am going to make you an offer. This doctor man will
probably want to perform an operation on Bunny, and it couldn't possibly
take place here. So if it comes to that, will you let it be done at the
Castle? There's room for an army of nurses there. The whole place is
at your disposal--and Bunny's. And I'll undertake not to get in the
way. Come, be friends with me! You know I am as harmless as a dove in
your sweet company."
He stood up with the words, came impulsively to her, took her hand and,
bending with a careless grace, kissed it.
She started at his touch, seemed as it were to emerge from an evil
dream. She met his laughing eyes, and smiled as though in spite of
herself.
"You are going to be friends with me," said Saltash, with pleased
conviction.
She left her hand in his. "If you don't suggest--impossible things,"
she said.
He laughed carelessly, satisfied that he had scored a point. "Nonsense!
Why should I? Is life so hard?"
"I think it is," she said sadly.
"It's only your point of view," he said. "Don't take things too
seriously! And above all, stick to your friends!"
She looked at him very earnestly. "Will you be a true friend to me,
Charlie?"
He bent, pressing her hand to his heart. "None so true as I!" he said.
She caught back a sigh. "I want a friend--terribly," she said.
"Behold me!" said Saltash.
She drew her hand slowly from him. "But don't make love to me!" she
urged pleadingly. "Not even in jest! Let me trust you! Let me lean on
you! Don't--don't trifle with me! I can't bear it!"
Her voice trembled suddenly. Her eyes filled with tears.
Saltash made a quick gesture as if something had hurt him. "I am not
always trifling when I jest," he said. "That is the mistake you always
made."
Maud was silent, struggling for self-command. Yet after a moment she
gave him her hand again in mute response to his protest.
He took it, held it a moment or two, then let it go.
"And you will consider my suggestion with regard to Bunny," he said.
She replied with an effort, "Yes, I will consider it."
"Good!" he said. "Talk it over with Jake! If he doesn't view it
reasonably, send him to me! But I think he will, you know. I think he
will."
He turned as if to go; but paused and after a moment turned back. With
an air half-imperious, half-whimsical, he held out upon the palm of his
hand the sapphire and diamond ring which till that moment he had worn.
"As a token of the friendship between us," he said, "will you take this
back? No, don't shake your head! It means nothing. But I wish you to
have it, and--if ever the need should arise--the need of a friend,
remember!--send it to me!"
She looked at him with serious eyes. "Charlie, I would rather not."
"It isn't sentiment," he said, with a quick lift of the brows. "It is a
token--just a token whereby you may test my friendship." Then, as she
still stood dubious: "Here, take it! He is coming."
He almost thrust it upon her, and wheeled round. She did not want to
take it, but the thing was in her hand. Her fingers closed upon it
almost mechanically as Jake opened the door, and as they did so she was
conscious of a great flood of colour that rose and covered face and
neck. She turned her back to the light as one ashamed.
Jake came in slowly, as if weary.
Saltash greeted him with airy nonchalance. "Hullo, Bolton! I came
round to enquire for you. How's the broken crown?"
Jake's eyes regarded him, bright, unswervingly direct. "I reckon that
was real kind of your lordship," he said. "I had it stitched this
morning. I am sorry I omitted to send help along last night."
Saltash laughed. "Oh, that's all right. I hardly expected it of you.
As a matter of fact the car didn't turn over as you supposed. I soon
righted her. You were a bit damaged, eh?"
Jake's eyes were still upon him. There was something formidable in
their straight survey. "So the car didn't turn over," he said, after a
moment.
"No. If you'd hung on a bit tighter, you wouldn't have been pitched
out. Old Harris brought you safe home, did he? No further mishaps by
the way?"
"None," said Jake. He advanced into the room, and stopped by the table.
His riding-whip was in his hand. "I came home too dazed to give an
intelligible account of myself," he said, speaking very deliberately,
wholly without emotion. "My wife imagined that I was not sober. Will
your lordship be good enough to convince her that she was mistaken?"
"I?" said Saltash.
"You, my lord." Jake stood at the table, square and determined. "I was
in your company. You can testify--if you will--that up to the time of
the accident I was in a perfectly normal condition. Will you tell her
so?"
Saltash was facing him across the table. There was a queer look on his
swarthy face, a grimace half-comic, half-dismayed.
As Jake ended his curt appeal he shrugged and spoke. "You are putting me
in a very embarrassing position."
"I am sorry," said Jake steadily. "But you are the only witness that I
can call."
"And why should she accept my testimony?" said Saltash. "Evidence given,
so to speak, at the sword's point, my good Bolton, is seldom worth
having. Moreover, if she had seen my crazy driving last night she might
have been disposed to doubt whether my own condition were above
suspicion."
"I see," said Jake slowly. He still looked hard into Saltash's face,
and there was that in the look that quelled derision. "In that case,
there is nothing more to be said."
Saltash made him a slight bow that was not without a touch of hauteur.
"I quite agree with you. It is an unprofitable subject. With Mrs.
Bolton's permission I will take my leave."
He turned to her, took and pressed her hand, sent a sudden droll smile
into her grave face, and walked to the door.
Jake held it open for him, but very abruptly Saltash clapped a hand on
his shoulder. "Come along, man! I'm going round the Stables. I'm
sorry you've got a sore head, but I'm off to town this afternoon, so
it's now or never. By the way, we shall have to postpone the
luncheon-party til a more convenient season. I've no doubt it's all the
same to you."
He had his way. Jake went with him, and Maud drew a breath of deep
relief. She felt that another private interview with her husband just
then would have been unendurable.
She sat down and leaned upon the table, feeling weak and unnerved. Not
till several minutes had passed did she awake to the fact that she was
holding Saltash's ring--that old dear gift of his--tightly clasped
within her quivering hands.