Part 8 (1/2)
”Corway has done me a wrong I never will forget, and I shall not pause at any opportunity to avenge it. My cousin, Hazel, is betrothed to him. My brother has a rash, impetuous temper, and is exceedingly jealous of our family honor. By insinuating Corway's insincere attachment to Hazel, his money-mad impecuniosity, and so forth, you will produce a coolness between John and Corway that may end in their complete estrangement. We are watched,” she whispered. ”Let us move on.” Her alert eyes had discovered Sam standing alone on the piazza steps, shading his eyes with his hand as he looked at them.
She guessed his purpose, but was too far away to hear him say angrily: ”If that lord attempts any fooling with that fair party, I'll give him some eye-shutters, I guess so!”
Without heeding the episode, Rutley replied: ”But you must know that your brother has not insulted me, and you must also be aware that the attempt to influence him may fail.”
”If you will follow my directions John will consider you his friend.
If properly managed you need have no fear of its ultimate success. For several months last year John was in China. During that time Corway paid frequent visits to his home.”
”But”--interposed Rutley, quickly.
”Do not misunderstand my meaning,” responded Virginia, with an involuntary flash of indignation. ”Corway is a man of great moral probity. But John may be brought to think him something the reverse.
Do you understand?”
”I will have satisfaction!” exclaimed Rutley.
”Somebody is following us,” whispered Virginia.
”Where?” queried Rutley. ”I fail to see anyone.”
”It may have been the shadow of the swinging light,” at length she remarked, rea.s.sured, and, dismissing the thought from her mind, continued: ”I have already warned you of a duel. To prove how insincere Corway's affection is for Hazel, you may call my brother's attention to a ring that he wears on the little finger of his left hand. I let Hazel have it for a short time because she admired it, and begged it from me, and Corway took it from her.”
”Has the ring any peculiar feature by which it may be distinguished from others?”
”Yes, a single diamond set in a double heart of pearls.”
”Is it yours?” he asked, softly.
”No,” Virginia promptly answered, but she added in a hesitating manner, as though weighing the propriety of further explanation--”that is--well--it is mine for the purpose. I let Hazel have it unknown to Constance.”
And so it happened, a slip of the tongue, one inadvertent, indiscreet admission, gave him his cue. A vision opened to his mind and he immediately speculated on its possibilities.
”Then the ring belongs to Mrs. Thorpe?” he questioned, insidiously.
”Yes,” Virginia affirmed, in a halting way. ”John gave it to Constance before they were married.”
”Oh, indeed!” Rutley exclaimed, and he muttered low and meaningly, while the whites of his eyes gleamed with sinister import. ”Corway wears a ring given by John Thorpe to his wife.”
Soon as he had spoken Virginia heard and instinctively felt that she had been indiscreet in admitting the ring belonged to Constance, and said by way of caution: ”Of course, I trust in the honor of your lords.h.i.+p to refrain from connecting Mrs. Thorpe's name with the ring, or to, in any manner, let it be known that you know it is not mine.”
Evidently Rutley did not hear her, for he was absorbed in thought--thought that produced an evil gleam in his eyes.
A slight pause followed, and taking it for granted my lord would not betray the trust she reposed in him, she said, as looking in his eyes with significant daring: ”Draw John's notice to it as confirming Corway's bold and deceitful attention to Hazel.”
Virginia was aware that John would recognize the ring as his wife's, but she under-rated the violence of the storm it would precipitate, and she trusted too much in her own ability to control it in the direction she desired. She likewise rated Beauchamp as a weak, egotistical, effeminate sort of man. She was now to experience her great mistake.
Rutley in his turn fixed his gaze steadfastly upon her, and which became so intense, so mysteriously searching, as to cause her, strong-minded woman as she was, to feel she was but a weak thing beside him.
He spoke quietly and without the faintest tremor in his voice. ”Do you know to whom you suggested this?”
”Lord Beauchamp,” she timidly responded. And then there suddenly sprang into her eyes a new light, accompanied by a slight start.