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

caught hold of my hand and grasped it convulsively. The hard lines seemed to have fallen away from her face. She smiled tremulously.

"Oh, I am glad!" she declared. "I am glad!"

Just then a carriage passed us, and I saw Lady Angela lean a little forward in her seat as though to gain a better view of us.

CHAPTER XXXV ANGELA'S CONFESSION

The Duke was in his study awaiting our arrival. I saw him rise and bow stiffly to my stepmother. Then I closed the door and left them alone.

I wandered through the house, a little at a loss to know what to do with myself. It was too soon to go to Ray, and the work on which I was engaged was all in the study. Just as I passed the drawing-room door, however, it opened suddenly, and Lady Angela came out, talking to a white-haired old gentleman, who carried a stick on which he leaned heavily. He looked at me rather curiously, and then began to hobble down the hall at a great pace. But Lady Angela laid her hand upon his arm.

"Why, Sir Michael," she exclaimed, "this won't do at all. You can't look him in the face and run. Mr. Ducaine, this is Sir Michael Trogoldy."

He swung round and held out his hand. His eyes searched my face eagerly.

"Nephew," he said, "I wanted to meet you, and I didn't want to meet you. God bless my soul! you've got Muriel's eyes and mouth. Come and dine with me one night next week-any night: let me know. Good-bye, good-bye, Lady Angela. God bless you. Here, James, give me your arm down the steps, and whistle for my fellow to draw up. There he is, in the middle of the road, the blockhead."

Lady Angela and I exchanged glances. I think that we should both have laughed but for the tears which we had seen in his eyes.

"Poor old man," she murmured. "He is very nervous and very sensitive. I know that he dreaded seeing you, and yet he came this afternoon for no other purpose. Will you come into the drawing-room for a moment?"

There was a certain stiffness in her manner, which was new to me. She remained standing, and her soft dark eyes were full of grave inquiry.

"Mr. Ducaine," she said, "I passed you just now driving in a hansom with a person—of whom I disapprove. May I know—is it any secret why you were with her?"

"It is no secret at all, Lady Angela," I answered. "I was sent to fetch her by your father."

"By my father?" she repeated incredulously. "Do you mean that she is in this house?"

"Certainly," I answered. "Your father is anxious, I believe, about Lord Blenavon. It occurred to me that he perhaps hoped to get news of him from Mrs. Smith-Lessing. At any rate he sent me for her."

She seemed to me to be trembling a little. Her eyes sought mine almost pathetically. She was afraid of something. In the half-lights she appeared to me then so frail and girlish that a great wave of tenderness swept in upon me. I longed to take her into my arms—even to hold her hands and try to comfort her. Surely to do these things was the privilege of the man who loved her. And I loved her—loved her so that the pain and joy of it were woven together like live things in my heart, fighting always against the grim silence which lay like a seal upon my lips. But there were moments when I was sorely tried, and this was one of them. My eyes fell from hers. I dared not look her in the face.

"Is this—all?" she asked falteringly.

"It is all that I know," I answered.

Then we were silent. With a little sigh she sank down in the corner of a high-backed easy chair. It seemed to me that she was thinner, that something of the delicate childishness of her appearance had passed away since her coming to London. I knew that she was in trouble, and I dared not ask her the cause of it.

"I wish that we were going back to Braster to-morrow," she said suddenly. "Everything and everybody is different here. You seem to spend most of your time trying to avoid me, and—Colonel Ray, I do not know what is the matter with him, but he has become like a walking tragedy."

"I have not tried to avoid you," I said. "I—"

Then I stopped short. Her eyes were fixed upon mine and the lie stuck in my throat. I went on desperately.

"I think," I said, "that if you fancy Colonel Ray is different you should ask him about it."

She shook her head dejectedly.

"I cannot," she said. "Sometimes I am frightened of Colonel Ray. It is like that just now."

"But you should try and get over it," I said gently. "He has strange moods, but you should always remember that he is the man whom you are going to marry. There ought to be every confidence between you, and I know—yes, I know that he is very fond of you."

She leaned a little forward. Her hair was a little dishevelled, her face was almost haggard. Her under lip was quivering like a child's.

"I am afraid of him," she sobbed out suddenly. "I am afraid of him, and
I have promised to marry him. Can't somebody—help me?"

Her head fell suddenly forward and was buried in her hands. Her whole frame shook with convulsive weeping, and then suddenly a little white hand shot out towards me. She did not look up, but the hand was there, timid, yet inviting. I dropped on my knee by her side, and I held it in mine.

"Dear Lady Angela," I murmured. "You must not give way like this, you must not! Ray is not used to women, and you are very young. But he loves you, I know that he loves you."

"I don't—want him to love me," she sobbed. "Oh, I know that I am foolish and wicked and childish, but I am afraid of him."

I kept silence, for my own battle was a hard one. The little hand was holding fast to mine. She lay curled up in the corner of the chair, her face hidden, her slim delicate figure shaking every now and then with sobs. All the while I longed passionately to take her into my arms and comfort her.

"Don't!" I begged. "Oh, don't. Ray has told me his story. He has made me his confidant. He has told me how unhappy he has been, and how he loves you. Oh, Lady Angela, what is there I can say? What can I do?"

I was losing my head a little, I think, for her fingers were gripping mine convulsively, warm and tender little fingers which seemed to be drawing me all the while closer to her.

"I am so miserable," she murmured.

Then suddenly her other arm was around my neck, her wet tear-stained face was pressed to mine. I scarcely knew how it happened, but I knew that she was in my arms, and my lips were pressed to hers. A sudden, beautiful wave of colour flooded her cheeks; she smiled gladly up at me. She gave a delicious little sigh of satisfaction and then buried her face on my shoulder. Almost at the same moment Ray entered the room.

She did not at once raise her head, although she pushed me gently away from her at the sound of the opening door. But I, who was standing facing that direction, saw him from the first, a dark stern figure, standing as though rooted to the ground, with the doorhandle still in his hand. For the second time in one day he seemed to have intervened at the precise psychological moment. He did not speak to me, nor I to him. Lady Angela, as though wondering at the silence, turned her head at last, and a little gasping cry broke from her lips.

"Mostyn," she exclaimed. "Is that you?"

For answer he turned towards the wall and flooded the room with electric light. Then he looked at us both intently and mercilessly; only this time I saw that much of his wonderful self-control was wanting. He did not answer Lady Angela. He did not glance towards her.

"You cur!" he cried. "Twice in a day am I to be brought face to face with your cursed treachery? Twice in a day! Lady Angela, may I beg that you will leave us?"

She stood up and faced him, slim and white-faced, yet with her head thrown back and her voice steady.

"Mostyn," she said, "this is my fault. I do not ask for your forgiveness. I have behaved shamefully, but I was miserable, and I forgot. Mr. Ducaine is blameless. It was my fault."

"You will pardon the keenness of my observation," he answered, "but the attitude in which I was unfortunate enough to find you tells its own story. You will oblige me, Lady Angela, by leaving us alone."

I would have spoken, but she held out her hand.

"I think you forget, Colonel Ray," she said, "that this is my house. I am not disposed to leave you and Mr. Ducaine here together in your present mood."

He laughed harshly.

"Are you afraid for your lover?" he asked. "I promise you that I will hold his person sacred."

"Lady Angela," I begged. "Please leave us. I—"

Then came an interruption so unexpected and yet so natural that the whole scene seemed at once to dissolve into bathos. The door was thrown open, and a footman ushered in callers.

"Lady Chelsford and the Marchioness of Cardenne, your ladyship," he announced. "Mrs. and the Misses Colquhoun. Sir George Treherne!"

It was a transformation. The room, with its dull note of tragedy, was suddenly filled with faint perfumes, shaken from the rustling draperies of half a dozen women, a little chorus of light voices started the babel of small-talk, Lady Angela had taken her place behind the large round tea-table and was talking nonsense with the tall young guardsman who had drawn his chair up to her side, and I, with a plate of sandwiches in my hand, nearly ran into Ray, who was carrying a cup of tea. For a quarter of an hour or so we played our parts in the comedy. Then a servant entered the room and whispered in my ear.

"His Grace would be glad to see you in the library, sir."

I rose at once. Angela's eyes were fixed upon mine questioningly. As I passed the table I spoke to her, and purposely raised my voice so that Ray should hear.

"Your father has sent for me, Lady Angela. He is terribly industrious to-day."

She smiled back to me quietly. I lingered in the hall for a minute, and Ray joined me there. He did not speak a word, but he motioned me fiercely to precede him to the library. Directly we entered it was clear that something unusual had happened. The great safe door stood open. Lord Chelsford and the Duke were both awaiting our coming.

CHAPTER XXXVI I LOSE MY POST

The Duke solemnly closed the door. "Ray," he said, "I am glad that you are here. Something serious has happened. Mr. Ducaine, Lord Chelsford and I desire to ask you a few questions."

I bowed. What was coming I could not indeed imagine, unless Ray had already made the disclosure.

"The word code for the safe to-day was Magenta, I believe?" the Duke asked.

"That is correct, sir," I answered.

"And it was known to whom?"

"To Lord Chelsford, yourself, Colonel Ray, and myself," I answered.

"And what was there in the safe?" the Duke asked.

"The plans for the Guildford Camp, the new map of Surrey pricked for fortifications, and one or two transport schemes," I answered.

"Exactly! Those documents are now all missing."

I strode to the safe and looked in. It was as the Duke had said. The safe was practically empty.

"They were there this morning," I said. "It was arranged that I should examine the contents of the safe the first thing, and take any finished work over to the War Office. Do you remember who has been in the room to-day, sir?"

"Yourself, myself, and the woman whom you brought here an hour or so ago."

"Mrs. Smith-Lessing?" I exclaimed.

"Precisely!" the Duke remarked, drily.

"Did you leave her alone here?" I asked.

"For two minutes