The Betrayal by E. Phillips Oppenheim (free ebook reader .txt) 📖

and not over-intelligent person, who takes very long jumps at conclusions. Lady Angela, I find my foot much better. May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the house?"

I held my tongue, knowing very well that the Prince played his part solely that I might be entrapped into speech. But Lady Angela seemed puzzled at my silence. She looked at me for a moment inquiringly out of her soft dark eyes. I made no sign. She turned away to the Prince.

"If you are sure that you can walk without pain," she said. "We will not trouble you, Mr. Ducaine," she added, as I moved to open the door.

So they left me alone, and I was not sure whether the honours remained with him or with me. He had never for a moment lost his dignity, nor had he even looked ridiculous when calmly rearranging his tie and collar. I laughed to myself bitterly as I prepared to follow them. I was determined to lay the whole matter before the Duke at once.

As I reached the terrace I saw a man walking up and down, smoking a pipe. He stood at the top of the steps and waited for me. It was Colonel Ray. He took me by the arm.

"I have been waiting for you, Ducaine," he said. "I was afraid that I might miss you, or I should have come down."

"I am on my way to the Duke," I said, "and my business is urgent."

"So is mine," he said grimly. "I want to know exactly what has passed between you and the Prince of Malors."

"I am not at all sure, Colonel Ray," I answered, "that I am at liberty to tell you. At any rate, I think that I ought to see the Duke first."

His face darkened, his eyes seemed to flash threatening fires upon me. He was smoking so furiously that little hot shreds of tobacco fell from his pipe.

"Boy," he exclaimed, "there are limits even to my forbearance. You are where you are at my suggestion, and I could as easily send you adrift. I do not say this as a threat, but I desire to be treated with common consideration. I appeal to your reason. Is it well to treat me like an enemy?"

"Whether you are indeed my friend or my enemy I am not even now sure," I answered. "I am learning to be suspicious of every person and thing which breathes. But as for this matter between the Prince and myself, it can make little difference who knows the truth. He shammed a fall over the cliff and a sprained ankle. Lady Angela and I started for the house to send a cart for him, but, before we were halfway across the Park, Grooton fetched me back. I found the Prince examining the papers on which I had been working, and when I charged him with it he offered me a bribe."

"And you?"

"I struck him!"

Ray groaned.

"You struck him! And you had him in your power—to play with as you would. And you struck him! Oh, Ducaine, you are very, very young. I am your friend, boy, or rather I would be if you would let me. But I am afraid that you are a blunderer."

I faced him with white face.

"I seem to have found my way into a strange place," I answered. "I have neither wit nor cunning enough to know true men from false. I would trust you, but you are a murderer. I would have trusted the Prince of Malors, but he has proved himself a common adventurer. So I have made up my mind that all shall be alike. I will be neither friend nor foe to any mortal, but true to my country. I go my way and do my duty, Colonel Ray."

He blew out dense volumes of smoke, puffing furiously at his pipe for several minutes. There seemed to be many things which he had it in his mind to say to me. But, as though suddenly altering his purpose, he stood on one side.

"You shall go your own way," he said grimly. "The Lord only knows where it will take you."

It took me in the first place to the Duke, to whom I recounted briefly what had happened. I could see that my story at once made a deep impression upon him. When I had finished he sat for several minutes deep in thought. For the first time since I had known him he seemed nervous and ill at ease. He was unusually pale, and there were deep lines engraven about his mouth. One hand was resting upon the table, and I fancied that his fingers were shaking.

"The Prince of Malors," he said at last, and his voice lacked altogether its usual ring of cool assurance, "is of Royal blood. He is not even in touch with the political powers of France to-day. He may have been guilty of a moment's idle curiosity—"

"Your Grace must forgive me," I interrupted, "but you are overlooking facts. The fall over the cliff was premeditated, the sprained foot was a sham, the whole affair was clearly planned in order that he might be left alone in my room. Besides, there is the bribe."

The Duke folded his hands nervously together. He looked away from me into the fire.

"It is a very difficult position," he declared, "very difficult indeed. The Prince has been more than a friend to Blenavon. He has been his benefactor. Of course he will deny this thing with contempt. Let me think it out, Ducaine."

"By all means, your Grace," I answered, a little nettled at his undecided air. "So far as I am concerned, my duty in the matter ends here. I have, told you the exact truth concerning it, and it seems to me by no means improbable that the Prince has been in some way responsible for those former leakages."

The Duke shook his head slowly.

"It is impossible," he said.

"Your Grace is the best judge," I answered.

"The Prince was not in the house last night when the safe was opened, he objected.

"He probably has accomplices," I answered. "Besides, how do we know that he was not here?"

"Even if he were," the Duke said, raising his head, "how could he have known the cipher?"

I made no answer at all. It seemed useless to argue with a man who had evidently made up his mind not to be convinced.

"Have you mentioned this matter to any one?" the Duke asked.

"To Colonel Ray only, your Grace," I answered.

"Ray!" The Duke was silent for a moment. He was looking steadily into the fire. "You told Ray what you have told me?"

"In substance, yes, your Grace. In detail, perhaps not so fully."

"And he?"

"He did not doubt my story, your Grace," I said quietly.

The Duke frowned across at me.

"Neither do I, Ducaine," he declared. "It is not a question of veracity at all. It is a question of construction. You are young, and these things are all new to you. The Prince might have been trying you, or something which you did not hear or have forgotten might throw a different light upon his actions and suggestion. I beg that you will leave the matter entirely in my hands."

I abandoned the subject then and there. But as I left the room I came face to face with Blenavon, who was loitering outside. He at once detained me. His manner since the morning had altered. He addressed me now with hesitation, almost with respect.

"Can you spare me a few minutes, Mr. Ducaine?" he asked. "I will not detain you long."

"I am at your service, Lord Blenavon," I answered. "We will go into the hall and have a smoke," he suggested, leading the way. "To me it seems the only place in the house free from draughts."

I followed him to where, in a dark corner of the great dome-shaped hall, a wide cushioned lounge was set against the wall. He seated himself and motioned me to follow his example. For several moments he remained silent, twisting a cigarette with thin nervous fingers stained yellow with nicotine. Every now and then he glanced furtively around. I waited for him to speak. He was Lady Angela's brother, but I disliked and distrusted him.

He finally got his cigarette alight, and turned to me.

"Mr. Ducaine," he said, "I want you to apologize to my friend, the
Prince of Malors, for your behaviour this afternoon."

"Apologize to the Prince!" I exclaimed. "Why should I?"

"Because this is the only condition on which he will consent to remain here."

"I should have thought," I said, "that his immediate departure was inevitable. I detected him in behaviour—"

"That is just where you are wrong," Blenavon interrupted eagerly. "You were mistaken, entirely mistaken."

I laughed, a little impolitely, I am afraid, considering that this was the son of my employer.

"You know the circumstances?" I asked. He nodded.

"The Prince has explained them to me. It was altogether a misunderstanding. He felt his foot a little easier, and he was simply looking for a newspaper or something to read until you returned. Inadvertently he turned over some of your manuscript, and at that moment you entered."

"Most inopportunely, I am afraid," I answered, with an unwilling smile.
"I am sorry, Lord Blenavon, that I cannot accept this explanation of the
Prince's behaviour. I am compelled to take the evidence of my eyes and
ears as final."

Blenavon sucked at his cigarette fiercely for a minute, threw it away, and commenced to roll another.

"It's all rot!" he exclaimed. "Malors wouldn't do a mean action, and, besides, what on earth has he to gain? He is a fanatical Royalist. He is not even on speaking terms with the Government of France to-day."

"I perceive," I remarked, looking at him closely, "that you are familiar with the nature of my secretarial work."

He returned my glance, and it seemed to me that there was some hidden meaning in his eyes which I failed to catch.

"I am in my father's confidence," he said slowly.

There was a moment's silence. I was listening to a distant voice in the lower part of the hall.

"Am I to take it, Mr. Ducaine, then," he said at last, "that you decline to apologize to the Prince?"

"I have nothing to apologize for," I answered calmly. "The Prince was attempting to obtain information in an illicit manner by the perusal of papers which were in my charge."

Blenavon rose slowly to his feet. His eyes were fixed upon the opposite corner of the hall. Lady Angela, who had just descended the stairs, was standing there, pale and unsubstantial as a shadow, and it seemed to me that her eyes, as she looked across at me, were full of trouble. She came slowly towards us. Blenavon laid his hand upon her arm.

"Angela," he said, "Mr. Ducaine will not accept my word. I can make no impression upon him. Perhaps he will the more readily believe yours."

"Lady Angela will not ask me to disbelieve the evidence of my own senses," I said confidently.

She stood between us. I was aware from the first of something unfamiliar in her manner, something of which a glimmering had appeared on our way home through the wood.

"It is about Malors, Angela," he continued. "You were there. You know all that happened. Malors is very reasonable about it. He admits that his actions may have seemed suspicious. He will accept an apology from Mr. Ducaine, and remain."

She turned to me.

"And you?" she asked.

"The idea of an apology," I answered, "appears to me ridiculous. My own poor little possessions were wholly at his disposal. I caught him, however, in the act of meddling with papers which are mine only on trust."

Lady Angela played for a moment with the dainty trifles which hung from her bracelet. When she spoke she did not look at me.

"The Prince's explanation," she said, "is plausible, and he is our guest. I think perhaps it would be wisest to give him the benefit of the doubt."

"Doubt!" I exclaimed, bewildered. "There is no room for doubt in the matter."

Then she raised her eyes to mine, and I saw there new things. I saw trouble and appeal, and behind both the shadow of mystery.

"Have you spoken to my father?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered.

"Did he accept—your view?"

"He did not," I answered bitterly. "I