CURTIS IN A NEW RÔLE
In an instant, Lilian Rosenberg had decided the course she would
adopt.
"What a disgusting thing to do," she indignantly exclaimed. "I
wouldn't have believed it of Shiel. The idea of forcing me to give
evidence--of forcing me to save the situation for the sake of the
woman he thinks he loves! I shan't do it!"
And she proved as good as her word. Apart from her importance as a
witness, considerable interest attached to her on account of her
appearance--she was infinitely more attractive than any of the women
who had hitherto appeared in the witness-box--though many of them were
so-called Society beauties.
"You were wrong," was the look which Shiel read in H.V. Sevenning's
eyes, as Lilian Rosenberg took the oath. "She is on our side."
But simple as Shiel was in many ways, he knew women better than the
lawyer, and the exceedingly sweet expression Lilian Rosenberg had
assumed, and which he knew to be quite foreign to her, filled him with
misgivings. Nor was he mistaken. The evidence she gave was entirely in
favour of the trio.
The case for the prosecution was concluded. For the defence, Gerald
Kirby, K.C., resorted to satire. He characterized the whole
proceedings as the most absurd heard in any Court for the past two
centuries, and wondered, only, that it had been possible to procure a
counsel for such a ridiculous prosecution.
"Even though," he remarked, "spirits such as have been specified by
the prosecution do exist--which is extremely dubious--there has never
yet been produced any reliable corroborative evidence respecting them,
and the Prosecution has wholly failed to prove, that it is through the
medium of these spirits, that the Modern Sorcery Company have worked
their spells. The marvellous feats that we have all seen performed in
Cockspur Street have been accomplished--as the defendants have all
along stated--through will--sheer will power and nothing else; and I
intend producing evidence to show that the secret of the wonderful
efficacy of all the charms and spells sold by the Sorcery Company,
lies in will power also. Whenever they have been consulted with regard
to the purchasing of a spell, the Firm have invariably pointed out
this fact to the purchasers, carefully explaining at the same time
that the rings, lockets and other articles sold to them were merely to
assist them in concentration. It is ridiculous to suppose that such
trivial articles could have produced, of themselves, such calamities
as the witnesses for the prosecution attributed to them. But, of
course you did not believe the statements of such witnesses. How could
you? How could you expect anything but falsehood from women who, upon
cross-examination, had owned that their object in obtaining the spells
was a far more dangerous object than they had at first led you to
suppose. They sought spells that would do evil, and that evil was not
accomplished. Now, I ask you, if the Firm worked their spells through
the instrumentality of evil spirits--for it is assuredly only evil
spirits that are associated with Sorcery--would not the spells they
sold naturally have brought about the sinister results for which they
were required? Undoubtedly they would! And they failed to produce the
desired effect, simply because their efficacy depended, not on spirit
agency, but on human will power; which power one could only too
plainly see the society ladies--who had witnessed for the
prosecution--did not possess.
"It may be asked, why the defendants, if they do not accomplish their
spells through black magic, style themselves 'The Sorcery Company'--and
so mislead the public? Obviously they do so purely for advertisement.
'The Sorcery Company' is an attractive title, a 'catchy' title, and
for this reason, which is surely a legitimate one, since it is
strictly in accordance with the prevailing custom of advertisement--the
firm of Hamar, Curtis and Kelson adopted it. They did not expect--they
were not so extraordinarily foolish as to expect--any one would take
them literally. They thought--as you and I think--that sorcery cannot
be taken seriously--that it is confined to fairy tales--and that, as a
fairy tale, it is potent only in the nursery."
This was the gist of counsel's speech for the defence. A number of
witnesses then gave evidence for the defendants; and when the
prosecuting counsel rose, it was only too evident that he was pleading
for a lost cause. The Court with ill-concealed derision barely
accorded him a hearing.
Two hours later the _Meteor_, always the first in the field when
sensations crop up, headed the first column of their front page with--
COLLAPSE OF THE SORCERY CASE
CRUSHING SPEECH BY GERALD KIRBY, K.C.
ACQUITTAL OF THE DEFENDANTS
"The Judge"--so the _Meteor_ reported--"expressed himself in absolute
agreement with the defending counsel. 'The action,' he said, 'ought
never to have been brought--it was sublimely ridiculous to accuse any
one of being in league with forces in the existence of which no sane
person could possibly believe.'"
Shiel was in despair. All chance of saving Gladys seemed to be fast
disappearing. He telephoned to her, and was answered by Miss Templeton.
"Gladys," she said, "had gone out with Hamar, who had motored down to
the cottage the moment the trial was over and the verdict known."
"I wish to God we had won the case," Shiel observed.
"So do I," Miss Templeton replied, "and so did Gladys--she regards her
position now as absolutely hopeless!"
"Tell her not to lose heart," Shiel answered hurriedly. "If I can't
find any other means, I'll--" but Miss Templeton rang off, and he
spoke to the wind.
Full of wrath against Lilian Rosenberg, he went round to see her, and
met her, just as she was entering her house.
"I've come to see you for the last time," he announced. "After the way
you behaved in Court, we can no longer be friends."
"I don't understand," she said in rather a faltering voice. "What have
I done?"
"Only perjured yourself," Shiel retorted. "The tale you told the judge
was very different to the tale you told me, therefore it is impossible
for us to continue our friendship. I could never have anything to do
with a woman whose word I can't rely upon--whose character I scorn,
whom I despise--and--" he was going to add, "detest," but checked
himself, and unable to trust himself in her presence any longer, he
gave her a glance of the utmost contempt, and wheeling round, walked
quickly away.
As in a dream, Lilian Rosenberg went upstairs to her room, and
throwing herself on the bed, buried her face in the pillow and
indulged in a fit of crying. It was not the thought of losing Shiel
that was so painful to her--she might have grown reconciled to
that--it was the thought of losing his esteem. Most people would agree
with her--would assure her she had done the right thing in looking
after number one. "What, after all, is perjury?" she argued. "Nearly
every one in this world perjure themselves at one time or
another--certainly all women."
But it was not the opinion of the majority she cared about--it was the
respect of the one; the respect she had wilfully and spitefully
sacrificed.
Was it too late to recover it?
With regard to Gladys she was very sceptical. The reluctance to accept
Hamar as her future husband she still believed to be all pretence, and
she felt convinced that Gladys, in her heart of hearts, was only too
glad to get the chance of marrying any one so rich. This being so, she
could not bring herself to think she had done Shiel any actual wrong.
Gladys would never marry him. The only person she had harmed was
herself. She had lied, and Shiel was not the sort of man to condone an
offence of that sort easily. Still, weeping would do no good; it would
only make her ugly. She got up, had tea, and went out. She could think
better in the open air--it soothed her. For some reason or
other--custom perhaps--she strolled towards Cockspur Street, and there
ran into one of the few people she particularly wished to
avoid--Kelson.
He was delighted to see her.
"It's nectar to me to be out again," he said. "Jerusalem!--it was
awful in the Courts. Have supper with me."
It was a fine starlight night--the air cool and refreshing, and a wild
abandonment seized Lilian Rosenberg. She would have supped with the
devil had he asked her.
"I've nothing to lose now," she said to herself. "Nothing! I'll have
my fling."
"Where shall we go?" she asked. "It must be somewhere entertaining."
"Why not to my rooms?" he said. "We can talk better there--we shall be
all alone!"
She raised no objection, and they were about to step into a taxi, when
Hamar and Curtis suddenly put in appearance.
"Matt!" Hamar cried, seizing his elbow. "I want a word with you."
"Not now," Kelson protested, looking hungrily at Lilian.
"Yes, now!" Hamar said. "At once! I shan't keep you more than five
minutes"--and he dragged Kelson away with him.
The moment they had gone, Curtis, who was obviously the worse for
drink, addressed Lilian.
"Kelson won't come back," he said. "Hamar is mad with him. He says if
he ever sees you two together again he'll sack you. Let me take his
place!"
A sudden inspiration came to her. There were one or two things she
badly wanted to know--and with a bit of coaxing, Curtis, in his
present state, might tell her anything. She would try.
"All right," she said. "I'll come."
They got into the taxi and Curtis, as far as his fuddled senses would
allow, made violent love to her.
After supper--they had supper in his rooms--he grew a great deal more
amorous. She let him sit close beside her, she let him put his arm
round her waist; but before she let him kiss her, she struck her
bargain.
"No!" she said, thrusting him away. "Not just yet. That can come
later--if you are good. I want you to tell me something first. About
this marriage of Mr. Hamar and Miss Martin--is it likely to come off?"
"Ish it likely!" Curtis said with a stupid leer. "Ish it likely! Not
much. Leon means nothing! He only wants the fun of being engaged to a
pretty girl--like I wantsh fun with you. Nothing more."
"Then he'll throw her over after a while."
"After he gets what he wantsh to get."
"And suppose she prove different to what he expects?"
"After he pashes stage seven--that will be all right!" Curtis said
giving her waist an emphatic squeeze. "Everybody will be all right
then. You and Matt--for exshample--and I and--and--whishky!"
"Stage seven! What do you mean?"
"Why don't--you know!" Curtis gurgled--and then a sudden gleam of
intelligence coming into his watery eyes, he added. "Then I shan't
tell you--nothing shall make me. It's a shecret!"
"I won't kiss you till you do!" Lilian Rosenberg said.
"I'll make you."
"Oh, no, you won't," Lilian Rosenberg cried, disengaging herself from
his grasp, and rising. "Don't you dare touch me. I'm going."
Curtis watched her with a helpless grin. Then he suddenly cried out,
"Come back! Come back, I shay!"
"Well, will you do as I want?" Lilian Rosenberg said.
"I'll do anything--anything to please you--if only you shtay with me."
She sat down, and his arm once again encircled her.
"Now," she said, pushing his face away. "Tell me!"
Bit by bit she drew out of him the whole history of the compact with
the Unknown, how in stage five, the stage they were about to enter,
they would have fresh powers conferred upon them--their present power,
_i.e._ of working spells and causing diseases, being then cancelled;
how they would obtain supreme power over women when they reached the
final stage--stage seven; and how the compact would be broken and
their ruin brought about, should either of them marry, or should
anything happen before this final stage was reached, to disunite them.
Lilian could account for a great deal now. The uncanny feeling she had
always experienced in the building; the curious enigmatical shadows
she had seen hovering about the doorways and flitting down the
passages; the extraordinary nature of the feats and spells; Hamar's
mutterings and his fury, whenever Kelson spoke to her--were no longer
wholly unintelligible. But she must know all. She must be most
exacting.
Finally, she got from Curtis everything there was to be got from him,
and she laughed immoderately, when he excused himself on the grounds
that it was all Leon's doings--Leon had told him to offer her a little
compensation for the loss of her escort.
"And you have compensated me more than enough," Lilian Rosenberg said.
"Now you shall have your reward," and she kissed him--kissed him three
times for luck.
"But you're not going?" he said, staggering to his feet and attempting
to hold her. "You're not going till the roshy morning sun shines
shaucily in on us."
"Oh, yes, I am," she said. "I've had quite enough of you! Good-bye!"
And before he could prevent her, she had run to the front door and let
herself out.