"SILENCE FOR SILENCE!"
On the following night, as eleven o'clock slowly chimed from the pointed
steeple of Orton church, George Macbean was walking along the narrow
path that led from the highroad to Rugby first across the wide
cornfields and then through the small dark wood until he reached the
river bank. Here he halted at a low stile which barred the path, and
waited.
Before him ran the river grey and placid beneath the clouded moon,
behind him the pitch darkness of the covert where hounds were always
certain of finding a fox or two in the course of the season. The cry of
a night bird, the rustling of a rat among the rushes, and the distant
howl of a dog up at the village were the only sounds that broke the
quiet. Not a breath of wind ruffled the surface of the deep stream, not
a leaf was stirred until of a sudden there came the sound of footsteps,
and the dark figure of a man loomed up against the misty grey.
"Eh bien?" inquired the man in French as he approached; for the
new-comer was none other than Jules Dubard. He was staying at an hotel
in Rugby, and they had met that afternoon under Morini's roof, greatly
to the Frenchman's surprise. But he had managed to conceal his chagrin,
to greet the secretary so that none should suspect the truth, and now,
at Macbean's suggestion, had come forth to meet him alone.
The pair were once again face to face.
"And well?" George asked, speaking in the same language the Frenchman
had used. "It is I who should demand the reason of your presence here,
m'sieur."
"Ah, my dear friend," replied the other, "this is a meeting very
fortunate for me, for it enables me to say something which I have long
wanted to say."
"I have no wish to hear you. I only demand the reason you are here--a
guest in the Minister's house."
"You surely know," he laughed airily. "Am I not to marry Mademoiselle
Marie?"
"You have schemed to do so, I know."
"Well, well," he remarked philosophically, "we are both schemers--are we
not, my dear George? In scheming, however, so very little is certain.
But in this world one thing is certain--namely, that Mademoiselle Marie
will become Comtesse Dubard at three o'clock on the day after
to-morrow."
The two men were standing quite close to each other, and in that grey
light could readily watch the expression of each other's faces.
"It is your intention, no doubt," answered Macbean. "But during the
month I have been in Rome I have not been idle. I have learned how
Angelo Borselli still holds you in the hollow of his hand, and how
cleverly he has made you his cat's-paw to ruin and disgrace Morini.
Listen, and if I speak an untruth deny it. Ever since the Sazarac
affair you and Borselli have actively conspired against Camillo Morini.
The Under-Secretary, with your assistance, had arranged a political
_coup_, but in order to compel Miss Mary to give her consent to this
scandalous marriage, you have induced Borselli to stay his hand. You
are forcing her to marry you, in order to save her father from ruin and
probably from suicide, well knowing, however, what Borselli's intentions
are, as soon as she is your wife and you have obtained her _dot_! You
intend--"
"Look here, hound! Did you ask me to come here to insult me?" cried the
Frenchman in fury, advancing a pace in a threatening manner.
"You have said you have something to say to me," was his response. "But
before you say it, I wish to make plain what are my intentions."
"And what are they, pray?"
"I intend to prevent Mary Morini making this sacrifice," was his quiet,
determined reply.
"You love her yourself! Friends of mine have watched you in Rome.
Although I was absent, I knew quite well that you were in her father's
service; but believe me, I was in no manner anxious, first because of
your menial position--a mere secretary--and secondly, because of the
past."
"The past!" cried Macbean. "The past! Surely you ought not to speak of
the past--you, to whom the family of Morini, the father of the innocent
woman you have schemed to marry, owes the peril in which he now exists.
You shall never marry her!" he added angrily. "Never!"
There was a brief silence, then Dubard responded with a defiant laugh.
"You cannot prevent it, my friend."
"But I will."
"And expose yourself?"
"I shall at least expose a man who has marked down a pure and innocent
woman as his victim."