The Visitor Remains
Had the billiard-table taken to itself wings and commenced to waltz
about the room, those present could scarcely have been more amazed.
That a lady could be introduced in that haphazard, unlooked-for,
bewildering fashion by one of their own servants, who knew the written
and unwritten rules as well as anyone living--it was a crime almost
equivalent to high treason. It was all done before they had really time
to recover their breath--the lady was in, the orderly had gone, the
door was closed; there they were, gaping at her, and she was looking at
them. They seemed to have lost their presence of mind, to say nothing
of their manners.
Presently her attention became centred on Noel Draycott.
"You!"
The monosyllable seemed to burst from her in the fullness of her
surprise. Plainly he was as much of a ghost to her as he had been to
his colleagues of the mess. Major Reith stammeringly took upon himself
the task of endeavouring to make it clear to her that the position was
unusual.
"Miss Forster, I--I'm afraid it's rather contrary to regimental custom
to receive ladies in this apartment. Some mistake has been made. Let me
take you to where you will feel more at home."
A surprising interruption came from Noel Draycott.
"No mistake has been made. It is by my instructions that Miss Forster
has been shown in here. She has a right to be present at what I am
about to say; you will see that, Reith, yourself, before I have
finished."
It was said with an air of authority which caused the others to look at
him askance. Miss Forster turned to Major Reith, holding out something
in her hand.
"I received," she said, "this card." She read out what was written on
it: "'If Miss Forster will present herself at the main entrance to the
officers' mess to-night about ten o'clock, and will hand this card to
the orderly whom she will find in attendance, she will learn the whole
truth about Sydney Beaton.'"
"May I look at that card?" inquired the major. She gave it to him.
"This is the most extraordinary thing to receive. May I ask how it
reached you?"
"I found it awaiting me on my return home this afternoon. I was told
that a man had brought it who said that there was no answer."
Captain Draycott carried the lady's explanation several stages farther.
"That card came from me; I wrote it. I gave Barnes directions to show
Miss Forster in here directly she arrived. As Miss Forster is at least
as much interested in Sydney Beaton as any of us, and has heard one
story, I consider that the least we can do is to give her the first
opportunity which offers to become acquainted with the truth."
The major still seemed uncomfortably conscious of the irregularity of
the position.
"Really I hardly know what to say; but if it is the general wish that
this lady shall remain----"
Mr. Tickell took upon himself to answer before the sentence was
concluded.
"Of course it's the general wish; we are only too glad to have Miss
Forster among us. Miss Forster, won't you have a chair?"
The lady declined; she said she would rather stand. One person declared
himself to be in disagreement with Mr. Tickell--Anthony Dodwell.
"Without intending the least discourtesy, I cannot admit that Draycott
is entitled to introduce his lady friends where no ladies are allowed,
even if the intruder is Miss Forster."
"Then in that case you are one against all the rest of us, so you don't
count. Now, Noel, what is it all about? Cut it as short as you can, old
man, and then, as Reith puts it, if Miss Forster will allow us, we will
take her somewhere where she will feel more at home."
Thus urged, Mr. Draycott prefaced his story with a few outspoken,
candid words; every eye was fixed upon him, and all was still.
"The story which I am about to tell you is not very much to my credit,
nor to that of others; I don't propose to try to excuse myself in any
way whatever; I'll just say my say straight out."
He paused for a second as if to get his words into proper sequence.
"I can tell you the first part in half a dozen sentences; in fact, in
one: That night when Sydney Beaton was accused of cheating, he never
did cheat, and we behaved as we did to an innocent man."
Mr. Tickell broke out the moment the words were uttered.
"If I haven't felt it in my bones; the very next morning in bed I began
to feel it; I've not been easy in my mind ever since. Now, Dodwell,
what do you say to that?"
"I say that, for reasons of his own, Draycott says the thing which is
not; you all heard what he said that night."
"What I said then was a lie; one for which I deserve all that I am
likely to get. I behaved all through like a blackguard--that's what I
want to tell you."
"You may put it either way you like," sneered Anthony Dodwell; "it is
plain to the meanest intelligence that you behaved like a blackguard
whichever way you put it. Either you were lying then, or you're lying
now; from neither predicament do you come out nicely."
Draycott ignored the other's words.
"Dodwell owed Beaton a grudge, and I owed Dodwell money, or at least,
he said I did."
"You're a pretty bounder--I said you did!"
"He said I did. As a matter of fact, I don't believe that I owed him a
farthing; but he made out that I owed him a lot, more than I could pay
without going to the Jews, which I had promised my father I never would
do. I didn't want to have a row, or a scandal; I've seen since what a
fool I was, but it seemed to me then that he had got me under his
thumb. He had, as I said, a grudge against Beaton; that was about some
money which he said Beaton owed him and which Beaton wouldn't pay."
"If I had posted Mr. Beaton, as I ought to have done, that would have
brought him to his senses, and then Mr. Draycott wouldn't have been
standing there, stuffed with the lies he's going to tell."
Still Draycott continued to ignore the other's words; he went on with
his story as if Dodwell was not persistently interrupting.
"Dodwell said to me that if I would help him to get even with Beaton,
he would say no more about the money which he made out I owed him, and
as I was tired of his perpetual dunning, I was cad enough to listen."
"You were a cad first, last, and altogether, Mr. Draycott."
"Then that night we played poker, and Dodwell said that he had seen
Beaton cheating; then he looked at me, and he winked; I knew what he
meant, and I said that I had too--but I hadn't."
There arose an outcry from those who heard him; all the men began
speaking at once. Major Reith called them to order.
"Gently, gentlemen, gently; let us know where we are standing."
"You are standing," cried Anthony Dodwell, "in the presence of an
infamous animal whom only the fact that Miss Forster is here, prevents
me from characterising as he deserves. I don't wish to assert that he
took care that the lady was here before he began what he calls his
story; but when the lady has gone he will receive from me the treatment
from which her presence saves him."
"If you will take my advice," the excited gentleman was told by Major
Reith, "you will let Draycott tell his story without comment or
interruption; when he has finished you will be able, if you think it
necessary, to tell yours; but you will not improve your case by doing
your best to keep him from stating his. Draycott, do we understand you
to say that you did not see Sydney Beaton cheat?"
"I did not."
"You did not see him exchange one card for another?"
"I did not."
"You did not see him do anything irregular, or indulge in malpractices
of any kind?"
"Absolutely no; nor do I believe that he did. I did not believe it
then; I believe it still less now. I believe he played as straight a
game as anyone else, and Dodwell knew it."
Three or four men interposed to prevent Anthony Dodwell venting his
wrath upon the speaker then and there.
"I'll break every bone there is in your body," he declared, "before
I've done with you, you libellous hound."
Suffering his threat to go unheeded, Draycott looked him steadily in
the face. Clifford, the biggest and most powerful man in the regiment,
addressed himself to the infuriated Dodwell.
"Let me tell you something frankly. I've had doubts about you from the
first; and I've not been the only doubter. I for one have regretted the
part I played that night; I only hope that one day I shall be able to
forget it. I'm not saying a word for Draycott, he's given himself away
with every word he's said; but he'd better do that than continue to
play the cur to Beaton in the way he owns he has done. Your case,
Dodwell, is safer in our hands than in your own. After what has
happened we'll sift his story to the bottom before we pronounce
judgment on it either way; I'm afraid the time has gone by when his
mere 'Yes' or 'No' would be accepted. But if you want to force us to
the conclusion that you are the kind of person he says you are, you
can't do better than continue your present behaviour. If you weren't
afraid of what he has to say, you'd let him say it; that, to us, if not
to you, is as plain as the nose upon your face. Draycott, I'm going to
take the liberty of asking you one or two questions. Do you seriously
wish us to understand that merely because Dodwell winked at you, you
charged Beaton with being a cheat when you knew he wasn't?"
"That's what it comes to."
"Then it comes to a very ugly thing."
"That I realise. Dodwell said to me that if I helped him to get even
with Beaton he'd say no more about that money. I took the wink to mean
that that was the moment in which he wanted me to help him--and I did.
The next day he gave me a quittance for the whole amount; I had not
misunderstood him."
"Do you mean to tell us that the next day you talked Beaton over
between you, and that each of you admitted to the other that he had
lied?"
"The next morning Dodwell came to my room and told me that after all he
had found out that he was wrong in supposing that I owed him money, and
he gave me a sort of friendly note admitting it in so many words."
"So you got your price?"
"I did."
"Then what was said about the night before?"
"Very little--in words; but he knew I hadn't seen Beaton cheat, and I
knew he hadn't."
"How did you know he hadn't?"
"Because Beaton hadn't cheated; I'd been watching him all the time, he
was seated next to me, and I was sure of it."
"Dodwell charged him with substituting one card for another. There was
a card upon the floor; Dodwell said he had dropped it and taken the
other in its place."
"The card upon the floor was mine."
"Do you mean that you had dropped it intentionally?"
"I didn't know I had dropped it till it was picked up. I recognised it
as mine when I saw it--it was a nine of spades. I had two pairs in my
hand--nine high; the nine of spades was one of them."
"And you, knowing the nine of spades was yours, had allowed us to think
that Beaton had dropped it from his hand to take another, and a better
one, in its place; in fact, one which gave him a full. You allowed us
to think that?"
"I did."
"You admit that you never for a moment supposed that Beaton had
cheated, having sufficient reasons for knowing otherwise; but it's
possible that Dodwell may have thought he did."
"He never thought it."
"What grounds have you for saying that? Now, Dodwell, don't you
interfere; you shall have your turn presently, when you'll have every
opportunity of making Draycott out even blacker than he has painted
himself. Consider, Draycott, before you speak; it's a very queer story
you're asking us to swallow, much queerer than your first. What grounds
have you for saying that Dodwell never thought, even at the moment of
making his accusation, that Beaton had cheated?"
"He told me so."
"Weren't you surprised at his making to you such a remarkable
admission?"
Draycott paused before he answered.
"I was inclined to think at first that he might have made a mistake,
though I couldn't see how he had done it; but before very long I knew
he hadn't. That nine of spades was on the floor. I didn't know I'd
dropped it, but as I threw down my hand he saw me brush it off the
table with my elbow. He knew that it never had anything to do with
Beaton."
"When did he make you these frank confessions?"
"That belongs to the part of the story that I haven't come to yet."
"Oh, there is a part of the story that you haven't come to? What part's
that? You seem to have been bottling up a good deal inside yourself,
Draycott."
"It's the story of what took place on the night of the Easter ball at
Avonham."