PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT
Many a one, by being thought better than he was, has
become better.
--JOWETT.
Not as little as we dare, but as much as we can.
--BISHOP OF WESTCOTT.
Malcolm wrote to Dinah that afternoon, giving her a full account of his
interview with Leah Jacobi; then he spent the rest of the day making up
arrears of work. The last post brought him a reproachful little note
from Anna.
"Mother thinks you have forgotten us. Why are you staying away in this
unmannerly fashion, you naughty boy?" she wrote. "It is ten whole days
since you were here, and we both feel lone and lorn without you"--and
so on. But under the playful words he could detect a shade of
earnestness.
Tired as he was, and needing rest sorely, he answered the letter and
posted it before he slept.
Anna read it aloud to Mrs. Herrick the next morning, and they both
agreed that it was a charming letter. The dear home people must forgive
his seeming neglect, it said, for it was not possible for him to put in
an appearance just yet. He was arranging a troublesome affair for a
friend that gave him a great deal of anxiety and worry. He had been to
Oxford, and might have to go down again, and he could not spare an hour
for social duties.
"Oxford--I wonder if the business concerns his friend Cedric
Templeton," observed Anna thoughtfully. But Mrs. Herrick only looked
grave and said she did not know, and that evidently Malcolm did not
wish to enlighten them. She spoke dispassionately and not in the least
as though his reserve troubled her; but Anna was rather absent and
distrait the rest of the day. She had watched Malcolm narrowly and had
come to the conclusion that he had something on his mind. All his
attempts at gaiety, his little jokes, his badinage, did not deceive her
for a moment. Trouble had come to him. In some ways he was a changed
man: he looked older, graver, and in repose his features had a
care-worn expression, as of one who has worked hard in turmoil of soul.
And this trouble--could it be connected in any way with this mysterious
Elizabeth, of whom he never spoke? Ah, that was the question over which
Anna pondered so heavily as her fair head bent over her typewriter.
Malcolm had ordered an early breakfast again in his own room, but as be
sat down to it Hepsy brought him a note. A slip of a lad had delivered
it, she said, and was waiting for an answer.
Malcolm had never seen the handwriting before, but he at once guessed
it was from Leah--and he was right. It was written in pencil, and was
without any conventional beginning or end.
"I am not going out this morning--will you come straight to 12 Gresham
Gardens? If you come early you will find me alone. Saul went to Oxford
last night, and will be back by mid-day. Send answer by bearer."
Malcolm wrote a few words--"Many thanks. Will be with you as early as
possible;" then he made a hasty meal, for he felt there was no time to
be lost; and as he walked to Sloane Square station his thoughts were
full of perplexity. Why had Saul Jacobi gone down to Oxford--on what
new mischief was he bent? Malcolm felt he had good reason for his
fears. Cedric's weak, impressionable nature would be like wax in the
hands of this unscrupulous adventurer; he would simply mould him to his
will; the poor lad's passionate love for his sister would be turned to
account and made to further his own wily purposes. Malcolm groaned
inwardly, as he realised that their sole chance lay with Leah herself.
Her message had given him a shade of hope, but he would not allow
himself to be sanguine; he knew too well that women of Leah's calibre
were not always to be depended on; in such cases one must reckon with
moods and impulses. Her brother dominated her; he was the evil genius
of her life. How could any one hope to influence her, when she, poor
soul, lived under a reign of terror? One might as well ask some
wretched prisoner to break off the fetters that bound him, as to expect
Leah Jacobi to walk out of that house of bondage a free woman.
Malcolm found it impossible to rid himself of these gloomy forebodings;
nevertheless he made such good speed that it was barely half-past nine
when he stood in the stone porch of 12 Gresham Gardens. It was evident
that he was expected, for though the maid who admitted him regarded him
somewhat curiously, she did not ask his name, but conducted him at once
upstairs to a handsome drawing-room where a fire was burning.
The little fox-terriers, Tim and Tartar, began barking furiously at the
sight of a stranger; but before Malcolm could quiet them the plush
curtains that veiled the archway were thrown back and Leah entered from
an inner room.
Malcolm was quite shocked when he saw her face. She looked as though
she had spent a night of weeping, that had dimmed her beauty; the hand
she gave him was icy cold. Perhaps she read the silent pity in
Malcolm's eyes, for her lips quivered.
"I am not ill--not really ill," she said quickly; "only I have not
slept, and the night was so terrible. You were right to come early, Mr.
Herrick; sometimes Saul takes an earlier train than he says. He has
done that two or three times; he declares he never really trusts me. He
made me promise not to go in the Gardens this morning, so I was obliged
to stay at home."
"Will you tell me why your brother has gone to Oxford?" asked Malcolm,
with a keen, steady glance, under which she grew still paler.
"Yes, I will tell you: he has gone to see Cedric. He was waiting for me
when I got back yesterday, and he saw at once by my face that something
had happened. Oh, you don't know Saul--when he means to find a thing
out he is like a gimlet, one has no chance at all. He held my wrists
until I told him everything--you can see how bruised they are," and she
showed him the purple marks. "Oh, how angry he was! I never saw him in
such a rage before, but it only made him more determined to hurry on
the marriage."
"He has no objection then to your marrying a pauper?" asked Malcolm
coolly, but inwardly he was boiling with impotent wrath.
"Oh, he will not believe that Cedric is poor," she returned sadly; "he
only laughs at the idea of Miss Templeton disinheriting him. 'She wants
to frighten him, and to choke us off, but I know a trick worth two of
that,' was all he said; and then he cooled down, and called me a little
fool, and bade me bring him the time-table, and ten minutes later he
told me he was going to Oxford to arrange things with Cedric."
"You mean about your marriage?"
"Yes; it was fixed for next week, but last evening I received this
telegram," and Leah put it in his hand. She had said all this in a
weary, mechanical voice, as though she were reciting a lesson she had
learnt by heart.
"Make preparations at once--Cedric returns with me--function day after
to-morrow, nine sharp--all arranged--hang results." Malcolm's lip
curled with disgust as he gave it back to her.
"Do you understand it?" she asked, as though distrustful of his quiet
bearing. "Saul has hurried things on because he is afraid. He does not
trust Cedric: he thinks he is weak and easily influenced, and fears
that you may get hold of him again; his one idea is to have the
marriage ceremony performed before Miss Templeton knows of it."
"Ah, just so;" but Malcolm muttered "the villain!" between his teeth.
"That is why I sent for you," continued Leah in the same dull, inward
voice; "because he and Cedric have fixed it for to-morrow, and there is
no time to lose. If he comes, and I were to see him again," and here
her voice broke and her eyes grew piteous, "I should not have the
strength to do it--to do what you want."
"What I want?" And then he added breathlessly, "Do you mean that you
will give him up?"
"Yes, I mean that," in a choked voice. "I must give him up--the only
creature I ever loved, and who was good to me. All night long I was
thinking of it, fighting and struggling for my poor little bit of
happiness; but you were right, Mr. Herrick, I love him too well to drag
him down to poverty and ruin, for Saul would ruin him, I know that too
well."
"I know it too. God bless you for this noble resolve," returned Malcolm
quickly; but she stopped him.
"Hush! not a word of praise; you do not know--I have been to blame as
well as Saul. But now what am I to do? they must not find me here."
"No, of course not. Is there any friend to whom I could take you?" But
Leah shook her head.
"We have no friends, only a few acquaintances at Henley; but I could
not go to them. I might take a lodging somewhere, only"--here her poor
face grew crimson--"Saul never gives me any money, except a few
shillings at a time; he pays my bills or leaves them unpaid, but it
always makes him angry when I ask him for money."
"That need be no difficulty," returned Malcolm kindly. "Will you allow
me to settle things for you?" Then she looked at him inquiringly, yet
with an air of trust that moved him profoundly.
"Will you put on your walking things at once, while I make my plans?"
he went on. "Be as quick as possible; we must not lose time." And she
went off with the ready obedience of a child.
Malcolm hastily reviewed the situation. It was full of difficulties.
Where could he take her? He thought of his mother; then he remembered
that she was a woman of strong prejudices--she had her own opinions and
would decline to see with other people's eyes. Leah would be to her
merely an extremely dangerous and objectionable young woman, and she
would dislike the idea of Anna being brought into contact with her.
The Kestons would help him, he knew that, and Verity would be a trusty
and faithful little counsellor; but Cheyne Walk was hardly the place
for her, and he would not be safe from Cedric.
For a moment he thought of the Wood House--they would never look for
her there; but he dismissed this idea the next moment. No; the Manor
House was their only resource. He would put her in Mrs. Godfrey's care,
and ask her to keep her safe until they had made their plans. Mrs.
Godfrey was a woman of the world; she would make allowances for any
human creature so broken and buffeted in the battle of life, whose
womanhood had been so tempted and crushed. His mother was kind-hearted,
but her sympathies were less broad, and she often failed in tact. Leah
would be to her a puzzling enigma. He felt with shrewd intuition that
it would be impossible for them to understand each other.
"No, it must be my dear Mrs. Godfrey," he said to himself. "She is more
human; it is not her way to use a sledge-hammer when a lighter weapon
will serve her purpose; and then she never forces confidence, she is
the most tactful woman I know." Malcolm broke off abruptly here as Leah
entered the room. She wore the same dark red dress she had worn the
previous day, and had a travelling wrap over her arm. She carried a
small Gladstone bag, of which Malcolm at once relieved her.
"I packed this last night," she said in a low voice, "and I wrote this
letter. Will you give it to him?" Then Malcolm glanced at the address;
it was to Cedric, and he put it carefully in his breast-pocket.
"He shall have it," was his answer. "Now, if you are ready, we may as
well go."
"If we are quiet no one will hear us," she observed in the same subdued
voice. "The servants are in the back kitchen; I heard them laughing and
talking as I came downstairs."
Then she led the way, and Malcolm followed her closely. Leah's remark
about an earlier train had made him supremely uncomfortable. What if
they should come face to face with Saul Jacobi and Cedric as they
turned out of Gresham Gardens! The idea was unpleasant. Fortunately, at
that moment he saw an empty cab crawling towards them, after the manner
of growlers when a fare is wanted, and he at once hailed it. Leah
looked somewhat surprised when she heard him direct the man to a
pastry-cook's shop in the near vicinity of Paddington station. She gave
him a questioning glance.
"We cannot go straight to our destination until I am sure the coast is
clear," he explained. "There is an upstairs room at Falconer's, and I
am going to order you some luncheon, and you must do your best to eat
it. I shall have to leave you for a quarter of an hour or so, until the
Oxford train is in."
"You mean to go to the station?" she asked nervously.
"Oh, Mr. Herrick, is that wise? Saul is so sharp-sighted, if he sees
you he will guess that you have been to Gresham Gardens."
"He will not see me," returned Malcolm confidently; "there is a corner
where I can secrete myself and watch the passengers go by. When we are
really off I will tell you our destination, but at present I must ask
you to have faith that I am doing my best for you."
She smiled faintly and said no more. Five minutes later the cab
stopped, and Malcolm took her upstairs and found a quiet corner for
her. "You must take a few spoonfuls of soup," he pleaded, "for the sake
of appearances. Falconer is rather famed for mock-turtle." Then he put
down the bag beside her and went on his quest. It was more than twenty
minutes before he returned.
"It is all right," he observed. "They passed me quite close. We shall
be in the train before they reach Gresham Gardens. I think I heard your
brother say that they had better do their business first." Leah
shivered; she knew too well what that business was. A quarter of an
hour later they were on their way to Cookham.
Leah seemed very much startled and even alarmed when she learnt their
destination, and at first Malcolm found it difficult to reassure her.
"Mrs. Godfrey!" she exclaimed. "Oh, I scarcely know her. Somehow she
frightens me; her eyes seem to read one through and through. And then
the Etheridges will be so near."
"I believe they are abroad," replied Malcolm, "and not expected home
until the middle of December, so you need not trouble your head about
them. But indeed you are wrong about Mrs. Godfrey; she is a dear woman,
and the greatest friend I have. She is so warm-hearted and true that
she would go through fire and water for any one she loved."
"Oh yes, no doubt."
"And not only for her friends," he went on, "for her sympathies are
world-wide. Trust her, my dear Miss Jacobi, and you will see how good
she is to you. She is not hard and censorious in her judgments, she is
far too well-balanced for that; if you can only secure Mrs. Godfrey for
a friend, you will need no other." But it was plain to him that Leah
was only half convinced; under her veil he could see she was vainly
trying to repress her tears, and his heart ached for her.
During their short walk to the Manor House he kept silence; he was
wondering what he should say to Mrs. Godfrey, and how he could best
explain matters. But just as they turned into the drive he saw her
coming round from the garden with a basket of late blowing flowers in
her hand; she stood still as though petrified with astonishment when
she saw Malcolm's companion.
"What is it--what does it mean?" she asked in her clear voice. "Has
anything happened?"
"Much has happened, my dear lady," he returned quietly. "I am going to
confide Miss Jacobi to your care for a few days;" and then very briefly
but distinctly he gave her an account of Saul Jacobi's scheme--the
intended marriage and Cedric's arrival at Gresham Gardens. "But for
Miss Jacobi's noble behaviour," he continued, "this disgraceful plot
would have been carried out. She has generously given him up, and I for
one am deeply indebted to her."
"Will you hide me for a few days, until I know what to do?" asked Leah,
fixing her great troubled eyes on the other woman's face. Mrs.
Godfrey's manner changed.
"Hide you from your brother do you mean, or Cedric, or both? My dear,
you will be perfectly safe with us. No one will molest you at the Manor
House, and we will both do all we can for you." She took the girl's
hand kindly and kissed her cheek. "We will have such a talk
presently--you and I; but just now you are worn out, and must lie down.
Your head aches, does it not?" Then Leah owned that she was right.
"Alick is about the grounds somewhere," Mrs. Godfrey continued; "when I
have made Miss Jacobi comfortable I will join you both." But when she
rejoined them half an hour later, Malcolm was quite sure she had been
shedding tears. "Poor thing," she said to him in an undertone, "how she
must have suffered; she is terribly exhausted, she has had no sleep,
and has eaten nothing for four-and-twenty hours. I made her swallow
some warm brandy and milk, and have covered her up snugly. Now I mean
to send the servant away at luncheon, and we will wait on ourselves,
and then you can tell us everything."
"You must promise not to interrupt me then," was Malcolm's answer, "for
I shall have to be off in an hour or so. I mean to go down to
Staplegrove by a late afternoon train, and tell Miss Templeton all we
have done."
Malcolm certainly had the art of narration. Not only Mrs. Godfrey but
the Colonel hung on his words with the deepest attention. Neither did
they interrupt him by comment or question until he had finished. Then
Mrs. Godfrey said softly--"You have done a good work there, Mr.
Herrick."
"Who, I?--pooh--nonsense," but Malcolm flushed a little at her
appreciative look. "I have done nothing--it is all Miss Jacobi's
generosity."
"I think we should hear a different version from her," returned Mrs.
Godfrey with a smile, "and I can see Alick agrees with me," nodding to
her husband. "Must you really go to Staplegrove to-night? Suppose
Cedric goes to Cheyne Walk?"
"That is quite possible," returned Malcolm; "nay, more, it is extremely
probable; and I pencilled a line to Verity in the train. She is to tell
him where I have gone; but my only fear is that he will not follow
me--Saul Jacobi will keep too tight a hold of him. By the bye, Colonel,
I wonder what infernal lies that fellow has induced him to tell the
authorities. If he has taken French leave of absence, they will
rusticate him."
"I think he had better leave the university," returned Colonel Godfrey
grimly, "for he is only bent on mischief, and will never pass his
examination. Let him go abroad a bit with some reliable person and get
over his folly, and then see if he will not settle down better. Dinah
could afford to give him a year's travelling, and I know she would
never begrudge the money."
"No, indeed, she is only too generous by nature," returned his wife;
and then after a little more conversation Malcolm took leave of Mrs.
Godfrey, and he and the Colonel walked down to the station.