AN EVIL GENIUS
Thus, despite the bad beginning at Merriton Towers the weeks that
followed were filled with happiness for Merriton. His acquaintance with
'Toinette flourished and that charming young woman grew to mean more and
more to the man who had led such a lonely life.
And so one day wove itself into another with the joy of sunlight over
both their lives. He took to going regularly to Withersby Hall, and
became an expected guest, dropping in at all hours to wile away an hour
or two in 'Toinette's company, or else to have a quiet game of billiards
with Brellier, or a cigar in company with both of them, in the garden,
while the sun was still up. He never mentioned the flames to them again.
But he never investigated them either. He had promised 'Toinette that,
though he often watched them from his bedroom window, at night, watched
them and wondered, and thought a good deal about Borkins and how he had
lied to him about his uncle's disappearance upon that first night.
Between Borkins and himself there grew up a spirit of distrust which he
regretted yet did nothing to counteract. In fact it is to be feared that
he did his best at times to irritate the staid old man who had been in
the family so long. Borkins _did_ amuse him, and he couldn't help leading
him on. Borkins, noting this attitude, drew himself into himself and his
face became mask-like in its impassivity.
But if Borkins became a stone image whenever Merriton was about, his
effusiveness was over-powering at such times as Mr. Brellier paid a visit
to the Towers. He followed both Brellier and his niece wherever they went
like a shadow. Jokingly one day, Merriton had made the remark: "Borkins
might be your factotum rather than mine, Mr. Brellier; indeed I've no
doubt he would be, if the traditions of the house had not so long lain in
his hands." He was rewarded for this remark by a sudden tightening of
Brellier's lips, and then by an equally sudden smile. They were very good
friends these days--Brellier and Merriton, and got on very excellently
together.
And then, as the days wore themselves away and turned into months,
Merriton woke up to the fact that he could wait no longer before putting
his luck to the test so far as 'Toinette was concerned. He had already
confided his secret to Brellier, who laughed and patted him on the back
and told him that he had known of it a long time and wished him luck. It
wasn't long after this he was telling Brellier the good news that
'Toinette had accepted, and the two of them came to tell him of their
happiness.
"So?" Mr. Brellier said quietly. "Well, I am very, very glad. You have
taken your time, _mes enfants_, in settling this greatest of all
questions, but perhaps you have been wise.... I am very happy for you, my
'Toinette, for I feel that your future is in the keeping of a good and
true man. There are all too few in the world, believe me!...
"'Toinette, a friend awaits you in the drawing-room. Someone, I fear me,
who will be none too pleased to hear this news, but that's as may be.
Dacre Wynne is there, 'Toinette."
At the name a chill came over Merriton.
_Dacre Wynne!_ And here! Impossible, and yet the name was too uncommon
for it to be a different person from the man who always seemed somehow to
turn up wherever he, Merriton, might chance to be. Sort of a fateful
affinity. Good friends and all that, but somehow the things he always
wanted, Dacre Wynne had invariably come by just beforehand. There was
much more than friendly rivalry in their acquaintanceship. And once, as
mere youngsters of seventeen and eighteen, there had been a girl, _his_
girl, until Dacre came and took her with that masterful way of his. There
was something brutally over-powering about Dacre, hard as granite,
forceful, magnetic. To Nigel's young, clean, wholesome mind, little given
to morbid imaginings as it was, it had almost seemed as if their two
spirits were in some stifling stranglehold together, wrapt about and
intertwined by a hand operating by means of some unknown medium. And now
to find him here in his hour of happiness. Was this close, uncomfortable
companionship of the spirit to be forced on him again? If Wynne were
present he felt he would be powerless to avoid it.
"Do you know Dacre Wynne?" he asked, his voice betraying an emotion that
was almost fear.
'Toinette Brellier glanced at her uncle, hesitated, and then murmured:
"Yes--I--do. I didn't know you did, Nigel. He never spoke of you.
I--he--you see he wants me, too, Nigel, and I am almost afraid to tell
him--about us. But I--I have to see him. Shall I tell him?"
"Of course. Poor chap, I am sorry for him. Yes, I know him, 'Toinette.
But I cannot say we are friends. You see, I--Oh, well, it doesn't
matter."
But how much Dacre Wynne was to matter to him, and to 'Toinette, and to
the public, and to far away Scotland Yard, and to the man of mystery,
Hamilton Cleek, not they--nor any one else--could possibly tell.
They went into the long, cool drawing room together, and came upon Dacre
Wynne, clad in riding things, and looking, just as Nigel remembered he
always looked, very bronzed and big and handsome in a heavy way. His back
was toward them and his eyes were upon a photo of 'Toinette that stood on
a carved secrétaire. He wheeled at the sound of their footsteps and came
forward, his face lighting with pleasure, his hand outstretched. Then he
saw Merriton behind 'Toinette's tiny figure, and for a moment some of the
pleasure went out of his eyes.
"Hello," he said. "However did you get to this part of the world? You
always turn up like a bad penny.... What a time you've been 'Toinette!"
Merriton greeted him pleasantly, and 'Toinette's radiant eyes smiled up
into his bronzed face.
"Have I?" she said, with a little embarrassed laugh. "Well, I have been
out riding--with Nigel."
"Oh, Nigel lives round here, does he?" said Wynne, with a sarcastic
laugh. "Like it, old man?"
"Oh, I like it well enough," retorted Merriton. "At any rate I'll be
obliged to get used to it. I've said good-bye to India for keeps, Wynne.
I'm settled here for good."
Wynne swung upon his heel at the tone of Merriton's voice, and his eyes
narrowed. He stood almost a head taller than Nigel--who was by no means
short--and was big and broad and heavy-chested. Merriton always felt at
a disadvantage.
"So? You are going to settle down to it altogether, then?" said Wynne,
with an odd note in his deep, booming voice. 'Toinette sent a quick,
rather scared look into her lover's face. He smiled back as though to
reassure her.
"Yes," he said, a trifle defiantly. "You see, Wynne, I've come into a
place near here. I'm--I'm hoping to get married soon. 'Toinette and I,
you know. She's done me the honour to promise to be my wife. Congratulate
me, won't you?"
It was like a blow full in the face to the other man. For a moment all
the colour drained out of his bronzed cheeks and he went as white as
death.
"I--I--certainly congratulate you, with all my heart," he said, speaking
in a strange, husky voice. "Believe me, you're a luckier chap, Merriton,
than you know. Quite the luckiest chap in the world."
He took out his handkerchief suddenly and blew his nose, and then wiped
his forehead, which, Merriton noted, was damp with perspiration. Then he
felt in his pockets and produced a cigarette.
"I may smoke, 'Toinette? Thanks. I've had a long ride, and a hard
one.... And so you two are going to get married, are you?"
'Toinette's face, too, was rather pale. She smiled nervously, and
instinctively her hand crept out and touched Merriton's sleeve. She could
feel him stiffen suddenly, and saw how proudly he threw back his head.
"Yes," said 'Toinette. "We're going to be married, Dacre. And I am--oh,
so happy! I know you cannot help being pleased--with that. And uncle,
too. He seems delighted."
Wynne measured her with his eyes for a moment. Then he looked quickly
away.
"Well, Merriton, you've got your own back for little Rosie Deverill,
haven't you? Remember how heart-broken you were at sixteen, when she
turned her rather wayward affections to me? Now--the tables have turned.
Well, I wish you luck. Think I'll be getting along. I've a good deal of
work to do this evening, and I'll be shipping for Cairo, I hope, next
week. That's what I came to see you about 'Toinette, but I'm afraid I am
a little--late."
"Cairo, Mr. Wynne?" Brellier had entered the room and his voice held a
note of surprise. "We shall miss you--"
"Oh, you'll get on all right without me, my friend," returned Wynne with
a grim smile, and a look that included all three of them in its mock
amusement. "I'm not quite so much wanted as I thought. Well, Nigel, I
suppose you'll be giving a dinner, the proper 'stag' party, before you
become a Benedict. Sorry I can't be here to join in the revels."
He put out his hand, Nigel took it, and wrung it with a heartiness and
friendship that he had never before felt; but after all he had conquered!
It was he Antoinette was going to marry. His heart was brimming over with
pity for the man.
"Look here," he said. "Come and dine with me at the Towers before you go,
Wynne, old man. We'll have a real bachelor party as you say. All the
other chaps and you, just to give you a sort of send off. What about
Tuesday? I won't have you say no."
For a moment a look of friendship came into Wynne's eyes. He gazed into
Merriton's, and then returned the hand-grasp frankly. It was almost as
though he understood this mute apology of Nigel's, and took it at its
proper value.
"Thanks, old boy. Very decent of you, I'm sure. Yes, I'd like to have a
peep at the other chaps before I sail. Just for old times' sake. I've
nothing special doing Tuesday that I can't put off. And so--I'll come. So
long."
"Good-bye," said Merriton, rather relieved at Wynne's attitude--and yet,
in spite of himself, distrusting it.
"Good-bye, 'Toinette.... It's really good-bye _this_ time. And I wish you
all the happiness you deserve."
"Thank you."
He looked into her eyes a moment, and then with a sudden sigh turned
quickly away and went out of the room. Brellier strode after him and
wrung his hand while the two that were left clung to each other in
silence. It was as though an unseen, sinister presence had suddenly gone
from the room. The tension was lifted, and they could breathe naturally
again.
Standing together they heard the front door slam.