Dredlinton sank into Phipps' vacated chair and leaned back with his hands
in his trousers pockets. He had the air of a man fortified by a certain
amount of bravado,--stimulated by some evil purpose.
"So you don't want to sell those shares, Mr. Wingate?"
"I have decided not to," was the calm reply.
"Any particular reason?"
"None," Wingate acknowledged, "except that I am not very anxious to have
any business relations with Mr. Phipps."
"And for the sake of that prejudice," Dredlinton observed, "you can
afford to refuse such a profit as he offered you?"
"I have other reasons for not wishing to sell," Wingate declared. "I have
a very high opinion of Mr. Phipps' judgment as a business man. If the
shares are worth so much as that to him, they are probably worth the same
amount for me to keep."
Lord Dredlinton shook his head.
"Quite a fallacy, Wingate," he pronounced. "Phipps, as a matter of fact,
is offering you considerably more than the shares are worth, because with
their help he means to bring off a big thing."
"If he relies upon my shares," was the indifferent reply, "I am afraid
the big thing won't come off."
"You won't sell, then?"
"No!"
Lord Dredlinton glanced for a moment at his finger nails. He seemed
wrapped in abstract thought.
"I wonder if I could induce you to change your mind," he said.
"I am quite sure that you could not."
"Still, I am going to try. You are a great admirer of my wife, I believe,
Mr. Wingate?"
Wingate frowned slightly.
"I prefer not to discuss Lady Dredlinton with you," he said curtly.
"Still, you won't mind going so far as to say that you are an admirer of
hers?" the latter persisted.
"Well?"
"You are probably her confidant in the unfortunate differences which have
arisen between us?"
"If I were, I should not consider it my business to inform you."
"Your sympathy is without doubt on her side?"
Wingate changed his attitude.
"Look here," he said, "this subject is not of my choosing. I should have
preferred to avoid it. Since you press me, however, I haven't the
faintest hesitation in saying that I look upon your wife as one of the
sweetest and best women I ever knew, married, unfortunately, to a person
utterly unworthy of her."
Dredlinton started in his place. A little streak of colour flushed up
to his eyes.
"What the devil do you mean by that?"
"Look here," Wingate expostulated, "you can't threaten me, Dredlinton.
You asked for what you got. Why not save time and explain why you have
dragged your wife's name into this business?"
Dredlinton, in his peculiar way, was angry. His speech was a little
broken, his eyes glittered.
"Explain? My God, I will! You are one of those damned frauds, Wingate,
who pose as a purist and don't hesitate to make capital out of the
harmless differences which sometimes arise between husband and wife. You
sympathise with Lady Dredlinton, eh?"
"I should sympathise with any woman who was your wife," Wingate assured
him, his own temper rising.
Dredlinton leaned a little forward. He spoke with a vicious
distinctness.
"You sympathise with her to such an extent that you lure her to your
rooms at midnight and send her back when you've--"
Dredlinton's courage oozed out before he had finished his speech. Wingate
had swung around towards his companion, and there was something
terrifying in his attitude.
"You scoundrel!" he exclaimed.
Dredlinton drew a little farther back and kept his finger upon the bell.
"Look here," he said viciously, "you may as well drop those heroics. I am
not talking at random. My wife was seen in your arms, in your rooms at
the Milan Court, with her dressing case on the table, last night, by
little Flossie Lane, your latest conquest in the musical comedy world.
She spent the night at the Milan."
"It's a lie!" Wingate declared, with cold fury. "How the devil could
Flossie Lane see anything of the sort? She was nowhere near my rooms."
"Oh, yes, she was!" Dredlinton assured him. "She just looked in--one look
was quite enough. Didn't you hear the door slam?"
"My God!" Wingate muttered, with a sudden instinct of recollection.
"Perhaps you wonder why she came?" the other continued. "I will tell
you. I followed my wife to the Milan--I thought it might be worth while.
I saw her enter the lift and come up to your room. While I was hesitating
as to what to do, I met Flossie. Devilish clever idea of mine! I
determined to kill two birds with one stone. I told her you'd been
enquiring for her--that you were alone in your rooms and would like to
see her. She went up like a two-year-old. Jove, you ought to have seen
her face when she came down!"
"You cad!" Wingate exclaimed. "Your wife simply came to beg my
intervention with the management to secure her a room in the--"
"Chuck it!" Dredlinton interrupted. "You're a man of the world. You know
very well that I can get a divorce, and I'm going to have it--if I want
it. I am meeting Flossie Lane at midday at my solicitor's. What have you
got to say about that?"
"That if you keep your word it will be a very happy release for your
wife," Wingate replied drily.
Dredlinton leaned across the desk. There was an almost satyrlike grin
upon his face.
"You are a fool," he said. "My wife wants to get rid of me--you and
she have talked that over, I have no doubt--but not this way. She is a
proud woman, Wingate. The one desire of her life is to be free, but
you can take this from me--if I bring my suit and gain my decree on
the evidence I shall put before the court---don't forget Flossie Lane,
will you?--she'll never raise her head again. That is what I am going
to do, unless--"
He paused.
"Unless what?" Wingate demanded.
"Unless you sell those shares to Peter Phipps."
Wingate was silent for a few moments. He studied his companion
appraisingly.
"Dredlinton," he said at last, "I did you an injustice."
"I am glad that you are beginning to appreciate the fact," the other
replied, with some dignity. "I welcome your confession."
"I looked upon you," Wingate continued, "as only an ordinary, weak sort
of scoundrel. I find you one of the filthiest blackguards who ever
crawled upon the earth."
Dredlinton scowled for a moment and then laughed in a hard, unnatural
sort of way.
"I can't lose my temper with you, Wingate--upon my word, I can't. You are
so delightfully crude and refreshing. Your style, however, is a little
more suited to your own country, don't you think--the Far West and that
sort of thing. Shall I draft a little agreement that you will sell the
shares to Phipps? Just a line or two will be sufficient."
Wingate made no reply. He walked across to the frosted window and gazed
out of the upper panes up to the sky. Presently he returned.
"Where is your wife?" he asked.
"She telephoned from the Milan this morning, discovered that the young
lady to whom she had such unfounded objections had left, and returned in
a taxi just before I started for the office."
"Supposing I sell these shares?"
"Then," Dredlinton promised, "I shall endeavour to forget the incident
of last night. Further than that, I might indeed be tempted, if it
were made worth my while, to provide my wife with a more honourable
mode of escape."
"You're wonderful," Wingate declared, nodding his head quickly. "What are
you going to get for blackmailing me into selling those shares?"
"Two thousand pounds."
"Get along and earn it, then."
Dredlinton wrote in silence for several moments. Then he read the
document over to himself.
"'I, John Wingate--all my shares in the Universal Steamship Company, and
accept herewith as a deposit.' There, Mr. Wingate, I think you will find
that correct. Phipps shall write you a cheque Immediately."
He touched the bell. Phipps entered almost at the same moment.
"I am pleased to tell you," Dredlinton announced, "that I have induced
Mr. Wingate to see reason. He will sell the shares."
"My congratulations!" Phipps ventured, with a broad smile. "Mr. Wingate
has made a most wise and acceptable decision."
"Will you make out a cheque for ten thousand pounds as a deposit?"
Dredlinton continued. "Mr. Wingate will then sign the agreement I have
drawn up on the lines of the memorandum you left on the desk."
"With pleasure," was the brisk reply.
Wingate took up a pen, glanced through the agreement, and was on the
point of signing his name when a startled exclamation from the man by his
side caused him to glance up. The door had been opened. Harrison was
standing there, looking a little worried. His tone was almost apologetic.
"The Countess of Dredlinton," he announced.
The arrival of Josephine affected very differently the three men, to whom
her coming was equally surprising. Her husband, after an exclamation
which savoured of profanity, stared at her with a doubtful and malicious
frown upon his forehead. With Wingate she exchanged one swift glance of
mutual understanding. Phipps, after his first start of surprise, welcomed
her with the utmost respect and cordiality.
"My dear Lady Dredlinton," he declared, "this is charming of you! I had
really given up hoping that you would ever honour us with your presence."
"You can chuck all that, Phipps," Dredlinton interrupted curtly. "My wife
hasn't come here to bandy civilities. What do you want, madam?" he
demanded, moving a step nearer to her.
She held a slip of paper in her hand and unfolded it before their eyes.
"My husband," she said, "has justly surmised that I have not come here in
any spirit of friendliness, I have come to let Mr. Wingate know the
contents of this cable, which arrived soon after my husband left the
house this morning. The message was in code, but, as Mr. Wingate's name
appeared, I have taken the trouble to transcribe it."
"That's more than you could do, my lady," Dredlinton snarled.
"I can assure you that you are mistaken," was the calm reply. "You forget
that you were not quite yourself last night, and that you left the B. &
I. code book on the study table. Please listen, Mr. Wingate."
All the apparent good humour had faded from Phipps' face. He struck the
table with his fist.
"Dredlinton," he insisted, "you must use your authority. That message is
a private one. It must not be read."
Wingate moved to Josephine's side.
"Must not?" he repeated under his breath.
"It is a private message from a correspondent in New York, who is a
personal friend of Lord Dredlinton's," Phipps declared. "It is of no
concern to any one except ourselves. Dredlinton, you must make your wife
understand--"
"Understand?" Dredlinton broke in. "Give me that message, madam."
He snatched at it. Wingate leaned over and swung him on one side. For a
single moment Phipps, too, seemed about to attempt force. Then, with an
ugly little laugh, he recovered himself.
"My dear Lady Dredlinton, let me reason with you," he begged. "On this
occasion Mr. Wingate is in opposition to our interests, your husband's
and mine. You cannot--"
"Let Lady Dredlinton read the cable," Wingate interposed.
It was done before any further interference was possible. Wingate stood
at her side, grim and threatening. The words had left her lips before
either of the other men could shout her down.
"It is a night message from New York," she said. "Listen: 'Confirm eleven
steamers Universal Line withdrawn Japan trade loading secretly huge wheat
cargo for Liverpool. Confirm John Wingate, Milan Court, holds controlling
influence. Advise buy his shares any price.'"
There was a moment's intense silence. Dredlinton opened his lips and
closed them again. Phipps was exhibiting remarkable self-control. His
tone, as he addressed Wingate, was grave but almost natural.
"Under these circumstances, do you wish to repudiate your bargain?" he
asked. "We must at least know where we are."
Wingate turned to Josephine.
"The matter," he decided, "is not in my hands. Lady Dredlinton," he went
on, "the person who opened the door of my sitting room last night was
Miss Flossie Lane, a musical comedy actress sent there by your husband,
who had followed you to the Milan. Your husband imagines that because you
were in my apartments at such an unusual hour, he has cause for a
divorce. That I do not believe, but, to save proceedings which might be
distasteful to you, I was prepared to sell Mr. Phipps my shares in the
Universal Line, imagining it to be an ordinary business transaction. The
cable which you have just read has revealed the true reason why Phipps
desires to acquire those shares. The arrival of that wheat will force
down prices, for a time, at any rate. It may even drive this accursed
company into seeking some other field of speculation. What shall I do?"
She smiled at him over her husband's head. She did not hesitate even for
a second. Her tone was proud and insistent.
"You must of course keep your shares," she declared. "As regards the
other matter, my husband can do as he thinks well."
Wingate's eyes flashed his thanks. He drew a little sigh of relief
and deliberately tore in halves the agreement which he had been
holding. Dredlinton leaned over the desk, snatched at the telephone
receiver, threw himself into his chair, and, glared first at Wingate
and then at his wife.
"My God, then," he exclaimed furiously, "I'll keep my word!--Mayfair
67.--I'll drag you through the dust, my lady," he went on. "You shall be
the heroine of one of those squalid divorce cases you've spoken of so
scornfully. You shall crawl through life a divorcee, made an honest woman
through the generosity of an American adventurer!--67, Mayfair, I said."
Phipps shook his head sorrowfully.
"My friend," he said, "this is useless bluster. Put down the telephone.
Let us talk the matter out squarely. Your methods are a little too
melodramatic."
"Go to hell!" Dredlinton shouted. "You are too much out for compromises,
Phipps. There are times when one must strike.--Exchange! I say, Exchange!
Why the devil can't you give me Mayfair 67?--What's that?--An urgent
call?--Well, go on, then. Out with it.--Who's speaking? Mr. Stanley Rees'
servant?--Yes, yes! I'm Lord Dredlinton. Get on with it."
There was a moment of intense silence. Dredlinton was listening,
indifferently at first, then as though spellbound, his lips a little
parted, his cheeks colourless, his eyes filled with a strange terror.
Presently he laid down the receiver, although he failed to replace it. He
turned very slowly around, and his eyes, still filled with a haunting
fear, sought Wingate's.
"Stanley has disappeared!" he gasped. "He had one of those letters last
night. It lies on his table now, his servant says. There was a noise in
his room at four o'clock this morning. When they called him---he had
gone! No one has seen or heard of him since!"
"Stanley disappeared?" Phipps repeated in a dazed tone.
"There's been foul play!" Dredlinton cried hoarsely. "His servant is
sure of it!"
Wingate picked up his hat and stick and moved towards the door. From the
threshold he looked back, waiting whilst Josephine joined him.
"Youth," he said calmly, "must be served. Stanley Rees was, I believe,
the youngest director on the Board of the British and Imperial Granaries.
Now, if you like, Mr. Phipps, I'll come on to your market. I'm a seller
of a hundred thousand bushels of wheat at to-day's price."
"Go to hell!" Phipps shouted, his face black with rage.