Part 23 (1/2)

I'm afraid that I almost hated her for a moment, she seemed so cold, so calculating and sly. I couldn't bear to think that she was my step-sister, and I was glad that, at least, not a drop of the same blood ran in our veins.

”If you choose to keep silent for some purpose of your own,” I broke out, ”you can't prevent me from telling the whole story, as _I_ know it--how I went out with you, and all that.”

”I can't prevent you from doing it, but I can advise you not to--for Ivor's sake,” she answered.

”For his sake?”

”Yes, and for your own, too, if you care for his opinion of you at all.

For his sake, because _neither_ of us knows when he came out of Maxine de Renzie's house. You _would_ go away, though I wanted to stay and watch. He may not have been there more than five minutes for all we can tell to the contrary, in which case he would still have had time to go straight off to the Rue de la Fille Sauvage and kill that man, in accordance with the doctors' statements about the death. For _your_ sake, because if he knows that you tracked him to Maxine de Renzie's house, he won't respect you very much; and because he would probably be furious with you, unable to forgive you as long as he lived, for injuring the reputation of the woman he's risked so much to save. He'd believe you did it out of spiteful jealousy against her.”

I grew cold all over, and trembled so that I could hardly speak.

”Ivor would know that I'm incapable of such baseness.”

”I'm not sure he'd hold you above it. 'h.e.l.l hath no fury like a woman scorned'--and he _has_ scorned you--for an actress.”

It was as if she had struck me in the face: and I could feel the blood rush up to my cheeks. They burned so hotly that the tears were forced to my eyes.

”You see I'm right, don't you?” Lisa asked.

”You may be right in thinking I could do him no good in that way--and that he wouldn't wish it, even if I could. But not about the rest,” I said. ”We won't talk of it any more. I can't stand it. Please go back to your room now, Lisa, I want to be alone.”

”Very well,” she snapped, ”_you_ called me in. I didn't ask to come.”

Then she went out, with not another word or look, and slammed the door.

I could imagine myself compelling her to give up the brocade bag, or offering her some great bribe of money, thousands of pounds, if necessary. Lisa is a strange little creature. She will do a good deal for money.

CHAPTER XVI

DIANA UNDERTAKES A STRANGE ERRAND

If I had not been tingling with anger against Lisa, who had seemed to enjoy saying needlessly cruel things to me, perhaps I would have been utterly discouraged when she p.r.i.c.ked the bubble of my hope. She had made me realise that the plan I had was useless, perhaps worse than useless; but in my desperate mood I caught at another. I would try to see Ivor, and find out some other way of helping him. At all events he should know that I was for him, not against him, in this time of trouble.

Perhaps this new idea was a mad one, I told myself. Perhaps I should not be allowed to see him, even in the presence of others. But while there was a ”perhaps” I wouldn't give up. Without waiting for a cooler or more cowardly mood to set in, I almost ran out of my room, and downstairs, for I hadn't taken off my hat and coat since coming in.

I had no knowledge of French law, or police etiquette, or anything of that sort. But I knew the French as a gallant nation; and I thought that if a girl should go to the right place begging for a short conversation with an accused man, as his friend, an interview--probably with a witness--might possibly be granted. The authorities might think that we were engaged, for all I cared. I did not care about anything now, except seeing Ivor, and helping him if I could.

I hardly knew what I meant to do at the beginning, by way of getting the chance I wanted, until I had asked to have a motor-cab called for me.

Then, I suddenly thought of the British Amba.s.sador, a great friend of Uncle Eric's and Aunt Lilian's. Uncle Eric had already been to him, but I fancied not with a view of trying to see Ivor. That idea had apparently not been in his mind at all. Anyway, the Amba.s.sador would already understand that the family took a deep interest in the fate of Ivor Dundas, and would not be wholly astonished at receiving a call from me. Besides, hearing of some rather venturesome escapades of mine when I first arrived in London, he had once, while visiting Uncle Eric, laughed a good deal and said that in future he would be ”surprised at nothing an American girl might do.”

I told the driver to go to the British Emba.s.sy as fast as he could.

There, I sent in my name, and the Amba.s.sador received me at once. I didn't explain much, but came to the point immediately, and said that I wanted--oh, but wanted and needed very much indeed--to see Ivor Dundas.

Could he, would he help me to do that?

”Ought I to help you?” he asked. ”Would Mountstuart and Lady Mountstuart approve?”