"Well, for one thing, I found him deceitful," spoke out Jack, after
hesitating a little, and still without any idea that Pym was known to
anybody present.
Verena bent forward to speak then from the end of the table, her face
all blushes, her tone resentful.
"Perhaps Mr. Pym might say the same thing of you, Captain Tanerton--that
_you_ are deceitful?"
"I!" returned Jack, with his frank smile. "No, I don't think he could
say that. Whatever other faults I may have, I am straightforward and
open: too much so, perhaps, on occasion."
When the ladies left the table, the Squire despatched me with a message
to old Thomas about the claret. In the hall, after delivering it, I came
upon Verena Fontaine.
"I am going to run home for my music," she said to me, as she put her
white shawl on her shoulders. "I forgot to bring it."
"Let me go for you," I said, taking down my hat.
"No, thank you; I must go myself."
"With you, then."
"I wish to go alone," she returned, in a playful tone, but one that had
a decisive ring in it. "Stay where you are, if you please, Mr. Johnny
Ludlow."
She meant it; I saw that; and I put my hat down and went into the
drawing-room. Presently somebody missed her; I said she had gone home to
fetch her music.
Upon which they all attacked me for letting her go--for not offering to
fetch it for her. Tod and Bob Letsom, who had just come into the room,
told me I was not more gallant than a rising bear. I laughed, and
did not say what had passed. Mary Ann Letsom plunged into one of her
interminable sonatas, and the time slipped on.
"Johnny," whispered the mater to me, "you must go after Verena Fontaine
to see what has become of her. You ought not to have allowed her to go
out alone."
Truth to say, I was myself beginning to wonder whether she meant to come
back at all. Catching up my hat again, I ran off to Maythorn Bank.
Oh! Pacing slowly the shadiest part of the garden there, was Miss
Verena, the white shawl muffled round her. Mr. Pym was pacing with her,
his face bent down to a level with hers, his arm passed gingerly round
her waist.
"I thought they might be sending after me," she cried out, quitting Pym
as I went in at the gate. "I will go back with you, Mr. Johnny. Edward,
I can't stay another moment," she called back to him; "you see how it
is. Yes, I'll be walking in the Ravine to-morrow."
Away she went, with so fleet a step that I had much ado to keep up with
her. _That_ was my first enlightenment of the secret treason which was
destined to bring forth so terrible an ending.
"You won't tell tales of me, Johnny Ludlow?" she stopped to say, in a
beseeching tone, as we reached the gate of Crabb Cot. "See, I have my
music now."
"All right, Miss Verena. You may trust me."
"I am sure of that. I read it in your face."
Which might be all very well; but I thought it would be more to the
purpose could she have read it in Pym's. Pym's was a handsome face, but
not one to be trusted.
She glided into the room behind Thomas and his big tea-tray, seized upon
a cup at once, and stood with it as coolly as though she had never been
away. Sir Dace, talking near the window with old Paul, looked across
at her, but said nothing. I wondered how long they had been in the
drawing-room, and whether he had noticed her absence.
It was, I think, the next afternoon but one that I went to Maythorn
Bank, and found Jack Tanerton there. The Squire had offered to drive Sir
Dace to Worcester, leaving him to fix the day. Sir Dace wrote a note to
fix the following day, if that would suit; and the Squire sent me to say
it would.
Coralie was in the little drawing-room with Sir Dace, but not Verena.
Jack seemed to be quite at home with them; they were talking with
animation about some of the ports over the seas, which all three of
them knew so well. When I left, Jack came with me, and Sir Dace walked
with us to the gate. And there we came upon Mr. Pym and Miss Verena
promenading together in the lane as comfortably as you please. You
should have seen Sir Dace Fontaine's face. A dark face at all times;
frightfully dark then.
Taking Verena by the shoulder, never speaking a word, he marched her
in at the gate, and pushed her up the path towards the house. Then he
turned round to Pym.
"Mr. Edward Pym," said he, "as I once had occasion to warn you off my
premises in the Colonies, I now warn you off these. This is my house,
and I forbid you to approach it. I forbid you to attempt to hold
intercourse of any kind with my daughters. Do you understand me, sir?"
"Quite so, Uncle Dace," replied the young man: and there was the same
covert defiance in his tone that he had used the other day to his
captain.
"I should like to know what brings you in this neighbourhood?" continued
Sir Dace. "You cannot have any legitimate business here. I recommend you
to leave it."
"I will think of it," said Pym, as he lifted his cap to us generally,
and went his way.
"What does it mean, Johnny?" spoke Tanerton, breathlessly, when we were
alone. "Is Pym making-up to that sweet girl?"
"I fancy so. Wanting to make up, at least."
"Heaven help her, then! It's like his impudence."
"They are first cousins, you see."
"So much the worse. I expect, though, Pym will find his match in Sir
Dace. I don't like him, by the way, Johnny."
"Whom? Pym?"
"Sir Dace. I don't like his countenance: there's too much secretiveness
in it for me. And in himself too, unless I am mistaken."
"I am sure there is in Pym."
"I hate Pym!" flashed Jack. And at the moment he looked as if he did.
But would he have acknowledged as much, even to me, had he foreseen the
cruel fate that was, all too soon, to place Edward Pym beyond the pale
of this world's hate?--and the dark trouble it would bring home to
himself, John Tanerton?