DARCY
That night, when he was just writing out some cheques in aid of
charities conducted by Lady Brice (_née_ Kentucky-Webster), Simon
entered with a card. The hour was past eleven.
Hugo read on the card, 'Docteur Darcy.'
He had nearly forgotten that he had sent for Darcy; in fact, he was no
longer quite sure why he had sent for him, since he meant, in any case,
to hasten to Belgium at the earliest moment.
'You are exceedingly prompt, doctor,' he said, when Darcy came into the
dome. 'I thank you.'
The cosmopolitan physician appeared to be wearing the same tourist suit
that he had worn on the night of Tudor's death. The sallowness of his
impassive face had increased somewhat, and his long thin hands had their
old lackadaisical air. 'You don't look at all the man for such a part,'
said Hugo in the privacy of his brain, 'but you played your part
devilish well that night, my pale friend. You deceived me perfectly.'
'Prompt?' smiled the doctor, shaking hands, and removing his overcoat
with fatigued gestures.
'Yes; you must have caught the 4 p.m. express, and come via Folkstone
and Boulogne.'
'I did,' said Darcy.
'And yet I expect you didn't get my telegram till after two o'clock.'
'I have received no telegram from you, my dear Mr. Hugo. It had not
arrived when I left.'
'Then your presence here to-night is due to a coincidence merely?'
'Not at all,' said Darcy; 'it is due to an extreme desire on my part to
talk to you.'
'The desire is mutual,' Hugo answered, gently insisting that Darcy
should put away his cigarettes and take a Muria. 'Dare I ask--'
Darcy had become suddenly nervous, and he burst out, interrupting Hugo:
'The suicide of Mr. Ravengar was in this morning's Paris papers. And I
may tell you at once that it's in connection with that affair that I'm
here.'
'I also--' Hugo began.
'I may tell you at once,' Darcy proceeded with increasing
self-consciousness, 'that when I had the pleasure of meeting you before,
Mr. Hugo, I was forced by circumstances, and by my promise to a dead
friend, to behave in a manner which was very distasteful to me. I was
obliged to lie to you, to play a trick on you--in short--well, I can
only ask you for your sympathy. I have a kind of a forlorn notion that
you'll understand--after I've explained, as I mean to do--'
'If you refer to the pretended death of Tudor's wife--' said Hugo.
'Then you know?' Darcy cried, astounded.
'I know. I know everything, or nearly everything.'
'How?' Darcy retreated towards the piano.
'I will explain how some other time,' Hugo replied, going also to the
piano and facing his guest. 'You did magnificently that night, doctor.
Don't imagine for a moment that my feelings towards you in regard to
that disastrous evening are anything but those of admiration. And now
tell me about her--about _her_. She is well?'
Hugo put a hand on the man's shoulder, and persuaded him back to his
chair.
'She is well--I hope and believe,' answered Darcy.
'You don't see her often?'
'On the contrary, I see her every day, nearly.'
'But if she lives at Bruges and you are in Paris--'
'Bruges?'
'Yes; Place Saint-Étienne.'
Darcy thought for a second.
'So it's _you_ who have been on the track,' he murmured.
Hugo, too, became meditative in his turn.
'I wish you would tell me all that happened since--since that night,' he
said at length.
'I ask nothing better,' said Darcy. 'Since Ravengar is dead and all
danger passed, there is no reason why you should not know everything
that is to be known. Well, Mr. Hugo, I have had an infinity of trouble
with that girl.'
Hugo's expression gave pause to the doctor.
'I mean with Mrs. Tudor,' he added correctively. 'I'll begin at the
beginning. After the disappearance--the typhoid disappearance, you
know--she went to Algiers. Tudor had taken a villa at Mustapha
Supérieure, the healthiest suburb of the town. After Tudor's sudden
death I telegraphed to her to come back to me in Paris. I couldn't bring
myself to wire that Tudor was dead. I only said he was ill. And at first
she wouldn't come. She thought it was a ruse of Ravengar's. She thought
Ravengar had discovered her hiding-place, and all sorts of things.
However, in the end she came. I met her at Marseilles. You wouldn't
believe, Mr. Hugo, how shocked she was by the news of her husband's
death. Possibly I didn't break it to her too neatly. She didn't pretend
to love him--never had done--but she was shocked all the same. I had a
terrible scene with her at the Hotel Terminus at Marseilles. Her whole
attitude towards the marriage changed completely. She insisted that it
was plain to her then that she had simply sold herself for money. She
said she hated herself. And she swore she would never touch a cent of
Tudor's fortune--not even if the fortune went to the Crown in default of
legal representatives.'
'Poor creature!' Hugo breathed.
'However,' Darcy proceeded, 'something had to be done. She was supposed
to be dead, and if her life was to be saved from Ravengar's vengeance,
she just had to continue to be dead--at any rate, as regards England. So
she couldn't go back to England. Now I must explain that my friend Tudor
hadn't left her with much money.'
'That was careless.'
'It was,' Darcy admitted. 'Still, he naturally relied on me in case of
necessity. And quite rightly. I was prepared to let Mrs. Tudor have all
the money she wanted, she repaying me as soon as events allowed her to
handle Tudor's estate. But as she had decided never to handle Tudor's
estate, she had no prospect of being able to repay me. Hence she would
accept nothing. Hence she began to starve. Awkward, wasn't it?'
'I see clearly that she could not come to England to earn her living,'
said Hugo, 'but could she not have earned it in Paris?'
'No,' Darcy replied; 'she couldn't earn it regularly. And the reason was
that she was too beautiful. Situation after situation was made
impossible for her. She might easily have married in Paris, but earn her
living there--no! In the end she was obliged to accept money from me,
but only in very small sums, such as she could repay without much
difficulty when Ravengar's death should permit her to return to England.
She was always sure of Ravengar's death, but she would never tell me
why. And now he's dead.'
'And there is no further obstacle to her coming to England?'
'None whatever. That is to say--except one.'
'What do you mean?' Hugo demanded.
Darcy had flushed.
'I'm in a very delicate position,' said Darcy. 'I've got to explain to
you something that a man can't explain without looking an ass. The fact
is--of course, you see, Mr. Hugo, I did all I could for her all the
time. Not out of any special regard for her, but for Tudor's sake, you
understand. She's awfully beautiful, and all that. I've nothing against
her. But I believe I told you last year that I had been in love once.
That "once" was enough. I've done with women, Mr. Hugo.'
'But how does this affect--' Hugo began to inquire, rather inimically.
'Can't you see? She doesn't _want_ to leave Paris. I did all I could for
her all the time. I've been her friend in adversity, and so on, and so
on, and she's--she's--'
'What on earth are you driving at, man?'
'She's fallen in love with me. That's what I'm driving at. And now you
know.'
'My dear sir,' said Hugo earnestly, 'if she is in love with you, you
must marry her and make her happy.'
He did not desire to say this, but some instinct within him compelled
him to utter the words.
'You told me that you loved her,' Darcy retorted.
'I told you the truth. I do.'
A silence ensued. All Hugo's previous discouragements, sadnesses,
preoccupations, despairs, were as nothing in comparison with the black
mood which came upon him when he learnt this simple fact--that Camilla
had fallen in love with Darcy.
'She is still in Paris?' he asked, to end the silence.
'I--I don't know. I called at her lodgings at noon, and she had gone and
left no address.'
Hugo jumped up.
'She can't have disappeared again?'
'Oh no; rest assured. Doubtless a mere change of rooms. When I return I
shall certainly find a letter awaiting me.'
'Why did you come to me?'
'Well,' Darcy said, 'you told me you loved her, and I thought--I
thought perhaps you'd come over to Paris, and see--see what could be
done. That's why I came. The thing's on my mind, you know.'
'Just so,' Hugo answered, 'and I will come.'