Part 41 (1/2)

It was a relief to Conquest to get up, scratch another match, and light his cigar at last, turning his back so that it should not be seen that his fingers trembled. When he was sure of himself he faced about again, taking his seat.

”It's the most amazing story I ever heard,” was his only comment, in response to Ford's look of expectation.

”I hoped it might strike you as something more than--amazing,” Ford ventured, after a minute's waiting for a more appreciative word.

”Perhaps it will when I get my breath. You must give me time for that. Do you actually tell me that she kept you in her studio for weeks----?”

”Three weeks and four days, to be exact.”

”And that she furnished you with food and clothing----?”

”And money--but I paid that back.”

”And got you away in that ingenious fas.h.i.+on----?”

”Just as I've told you.”

”Amazing! Simply amazing! And,” he added, with some bitterness, ”you came back here--and you and she together--took us all in.”

Ford drew his cigar from his lips, and, turning in his chair, faced Conquest in an att.i.tude and with a look which could not be misinterpreted.

”I came back here, and took you all in--if you like. Miss Strange had nothing to do with it. She didn't even expect me.”

The last sentence gave Conquest the opening he was looking for, but now that he had it, he hesitated to make use of it. In his memory were the very words Miriam Strange had stammered out to him in the sort of confession no woman ever makes willingly: ”Things happened ... such as don't generally happen ... and even if he never comes ... I'd rather go on waiting for him ... uselessly.” It was all growing clear to him, and yet not so clear but that there was time even now to let the matter drop into the limbo of things it is best not to know too much about. It was against his better judgment, then--his better judgment as a barrister-at-law--that he found himself saying:

”She didn't expect you at that day and date, perhaps: but she probably looked for you some time.”

”Possibly; but if so, I know little or nothing about it.”

The reply, delivered with a certain dignified force of intention, recalled Conquest to a sense of his own interests. He had too often counselled his clients to let sleeping dogs lie, not to be aware of the advantage of doing it himself; and so, restraining his jealous curiosity, he turned the conversation back to the evidence of Amalia Gramm.

During the next half-hour he manifested that talent--partly native and partly born of practice--which he had often commended in himself, of talking about one thing and thinking of another. His exposition of the line to be adopted in Ford's defence was perfectly lucid, when all the while he was saying to himself that this was the man whom Miriam Strange had waited for through eight romantic years.

The fact leaped at him, but it was part of his profession not to be afraid of facts. If they possessed adverse qualities one recognized them boldly, in the practise of law, chiefly with a view of circ.u.mventing them. The matter presented itself first of all, not as one involving emotional or moral issues, but as an annoying arrangement of circ.u.mstances which might cheat him out of what he had honestly acquired. He had no intention of being cheated by any one whatever; and as he made a rapid summary of the points of the case he saw that the balance of probabilities was in his favor. It was to make that clear to Ford that he led the conversation back again to the subject of his adventures, tempting him to repeat at least a portion of his hymn of praise. By the time he had finished it Conquest was able to resume the friendly, confidential tone with which they had begun the evening.

”It's very satisfactory to me, old man,” he said, between quiet puffs at his cigar, ”to know that you think so highly of Miss Strange, because--I don't know whether you have heard it--she and I are to be married before long.”

He looked to see Ford disconcerted by this announcement and was surprised to see him take it coolly.

”Yes; I knew that. I've meant to congratulate you when the time came. I should say it had come now.”

There was a candor about him that Conquest could scarcely discredit, though he was unwilling to trust it too far.

”Thanks, old man. I scarcely expected you to be so well posted. May I ask how--?”

”Oh, I've known it a long time. Miss Strange told me before I went to South America last spring.”

This evidence of a confidential relation between the two gave him a second shock, but he postponed its consideration, contenting himself for the moment with making it plain to Ford that ”Hands off!” must be the first rule of the game. His next move was meant to carry the play into the opponent's quarters.

”As a matter of fact, I've never congratulated _you_,” he said, with apparent tranquillity. ”I've known about you and Evie for some time past, but--”

”Oh, that's all off. In the existing circ.u.mstances Evie didn't feel like--keeping the thing up.”