Part 71 (1/2)

”There's not a doubt that he must know of it. And Charlotte says she won't ask Verrall, and won't tell him I am here! My belief is that she knows Appleby's dead.”

Charlotte had resumed her walk under the archway: pacing there--as was remarked before--like a restrained tiger. She took no notice of Rodolf's last speech.

”Why not tell Verrall yourself that you are here?” was George's sensible question.

”Well--you see, Mr. George G.o.dolphin, I'd rather not, as long as there's the least doubt as to Appleby's death. _I_ feel none myself: but if it should turn out to be a mistake, my appearance here would do good neither to me nor to Verrall. And Verrall's a dangerous man to cross. He might kill me in his pa.s.sion. It takes a good deal to put him into one, but when it does come, it's like a tornado.”

”You acknowledge that there is a doubt as to Appleby's death, then!”

sarcastically cried Charlotte.

”I say that it's just possible. It was not being fully certain that brought me back in this clandestine way. What I want you to do is to ask Verrall if Appleby's dead. I believe he will answer 'Yes.' 'Very well,'

then you can say, 'Rodolf Pain's home again.' And if----”

”And if he says, 'No, he is not dead,' what then?” fiercely interrupted Charlotte.

”Then you can tell me privately, and I must depart the way I came. But I don't depart without being _satisfied_ of the fact,” pointedly added Mr.

Pain, as if he had not entire and implicit reliance upon Charlotte's word. ”My firm belief is that he is dead, and that Verrall will tell you he is dead. In that case I am a free man to-morrow.”

Charlotte turned her head towards him, terrible anger in her tone, and in her face. ”And how is your reappearance to be accounted for to those who look upon _you_ as dead?”

”I don't care how,” indifferently answered Rodolf. ”I did not spread the report of my own death. If you did, you can contradict it.”

”If I did do it, it was to save your reputation,” returned Charlotte, scarcely able to speak in her pa.s.sion.

”_I_ know,” said Rodolf Pain. ”You feared something or other might come out about your husband, and so you thought you'd kill me off-hand. Two for yourself and one for me, Charlotte.”

She did not answer.

”If my coming back is so annoying to you, we can live apart,” he resumed. ”You pretty well gave me a sickener before I went away. As you know.”

”This must be an amusing dialogue to Mr. George G.o.dolphin!” fumed Charlotte.

”May-be,” replied Rodolf Pain, his tone sad and weary. ”I have been so hardly treated between you and Verrall, Charlotte, that I don't care who knows it.”

”Where are you staying?” asked George, wondering whether the shady spots about Ashlydyat sheltered him by day as well as by night.

”Not far away, sir: at a roadside inn,” was the answer. ”No one knew me much, about here, in the old days; but, to make a.s.surance doubly sure, I only come out in the evening. Look here, Charlotte. If you refuse to ask Verrall, or to help me, I shall go to London, and obtain the information there. I am not quite without friends in the great city: they would receive me better than you have received me.”

”I wonder you did not go there at once,” said Charlotte, sharply.

”It was natural that I should go first where my wife was,” returned Rodolf Pain; ”even though she had not been the most affectionate of wives to me.”

Charlotte was certainly not showing herself particularly affectionate then, whether she had, or had not, in the past days. Truth to say, whatever may have been her personal predilection or the opposite for the gentleman, his return had brought all her fears to the surface. His personal safety was imperilled; and, with that, disgrace loomed in ominous attendance; a disgrace which would be reflected upon Charlotte.

Could she have sent Rodolf Pain flying on electric wires to the remotest region of the known or unknown globe, she would have done it then.

Leaving them to battle out their dispute alone, George G.o.dolphin bent his steps to Lady G.o.dolphin's Folly, walking over the very Shadow, black as jet, treading in and out amid the dwarf bushes, which, when regarded from a distance, looked so like graves. He gained the Folly, and rang.

The servant admitted him to the drawing-room. It was empty as before.

”Has Mr. Verrall not come in?” asked George.