Part 14 (1/2)

”Fellow named Sabin,” he answered. ”No one you would be likely to be interested in. He comes down from London, and he plays a remarkably fine game. Rather a saturnine-looking personage, isn't he?”

”He is a most unpleasant-looking man,” Lady Deringham faltered, white now to the lips. ”Where did you meet him? Here or in London?”

”In London,” Wolfenden explained. ”Rather a curious meeting it was too. A fellow attacked him coming out of a restaurant one night and I interfered--just in time. He has taken a little house down here.”

”Is he alone?” Lady Deringham asked.

”He has a niece living with him,” Wolfenden answered. ”She is a very charming girl. I think that you would like her.”

The last words he added with something of an effort, and an indifference which was palpably a.s.sumed. Lady Deringham, however, did not appear to notice them at all.

”Have no more to do with him than you can help, Wolfenden,” she said, leaning a little over to him, and speaking in a half-fearful whisper. ”I think his face is awful.”

Wolfenden laughed.

”I am not likely to see a great deal of him,” he declared. ”In fact I can't say that he seems very cordially disposed towards me, considering that I saved him from rather a nasty accident. By the bye, he said something about having met the Admiral at Alexandria. You have never come across him, I suppose?”

The sun was warm and the wind had dropped, or Wolfenden could almost have declared that his mother's teeth were chattering. Her eyes were fixed again in a rigid stare which pa.s.sed him by and travelled beyond. He looked over his shoulder. Mr. Sabin, apparently tired of practising, was standing directly facing them, leaning upon his putter. He was looking steadfastly at Lady Deringham, not in the least rudely, but with a faint show of curiosity and a smile which in no way improved his appearance slightly parting his lips. Meeting his gaze, Wolfenden looked away with an odd feeling of uneasiness.

”You are right,” he said. ”His face is really a handsome one in a way, but he certainly is not prepossessing-looking!”

Lady Deringham had recovered herself. She leaned back amongst the cus.h.i.+ons.

”Didn't you ask me,” she said, ”whether I had ever met the man? I cannot remember--certainly I was at Alexandria with your father, so perhaps I did. You will be home to dinner?”

He nodded.

”Of course. How is the Admiral to-day?”

”Remarkably well. He asked for you just before I came out.”

”I shall see him at dinner,” Wolfenden said ”Perhaps he will let me smoke a cigar with him afterwards.”

He stood away from the carriage and lifted his cap with a smile. The coachman touched his horses and the barouche rolled on. Wolfenden walked slowly back to his companion.

”You will excuse my leaving you,” he said. ”I was afraid that my mother might have been looking for me.”

”By all means,” Mr. Sabin answered. ”I hope that you did not hurry on my account. I am trying,” he added, ”to recollect if ever I met Lady Deringham. At my time of life one's reminiscences become so chaotic.”

He looked keenly at Wolfenden, who answered him after a moment's hesitation.

”Lady Deringham was at Alexandria with my father, so it is just possible,” he said.

CHAPTER XXI.

HARCUTT'S INSPIRATION.

Wolfenden lost his match upon the last hole; nevertheless it was a finely contested game, and when Mr. Sabin proposed a round on the following day, he accepted without hesitation. He did not like Mr. Sabin any the better--in fact he was beginning to acquire a deliberate distrust of him. Something of that fear with which other people regarded him had already communicated itself to Wolfenden. Without having the shadow of a definite suspicion with regard to the man or his character, he was inclined to resent that interest in the state of affairs at Deringham Hall which Mr. Sabin had undoubtedly manifested. At the same time he was Helene's guardian, and so long as he occupied that position Wolfenden was not inclined to give up his acquaintance.

They parted in the pavilion, Wolfenden lingering for a few minutes, half hoping that he might receive some sort of invitation to call at Mr. Sabin's temporary abode. Perhaps, under the circ.u.mstances, it was scarcely possible that any such invitation could be given, although had it been Wolfenden would certainly have accepted it. For he had no idea of at once relinquis.h.i.+ng all hope as regards Helene. He was naturally sanguine, and he was very much in love. There was something mysterious about that other engagement of which he had been told. He had an idea that, but for Mr. Sabin's unexpected appearance, Helene would have offered him a larger share of her confidence. He was content to wait for it.

Wolfenden had ridden over from home, and left his horse in the hotel stables. As he pa.s.sed the hall a familiar figure standing in the open doorway hailed him. He glanced quickly up, and stopped short. It was Harcutt who was standing there, in a Norfolk tweed suit and thick boots.

”Of all men in the world!” he exclaimed in blank surprise. ”What, in the name of all that's wonderful, are you doing here?”

Harcutt answered with a certain doggedness, almost as though he resented Wolfenden's astonishment.

”I don't know why you should look at me as though I were a ghost,” he said. ”If it comes to that, I might ask you the same question. What are you doing here?”

”Oh! I'm at home,” Wolfenden answered promptly. ”I'm down to visit my people; it's only a mile or two from here to Deringham Hall.”

Harcutt dropped his eyegla.s.s and laughed shortly.

”You are wonderfully filial all of a sudden,” he remarked. ”Of course you had no other reason for coming!”

”None at all,” Wolfenden answered firmly. ”I came because I was sent for. It was a complete surprise to me to meet Mr. Sabin here--at least it would have been if I had not travelled down with his niece. Their coming was simply a stroke of luck for me.”

Harcutt a.s.sumed a more amiable expression.

”I am glad to hear it,” he said. ”I thought that you were stealing a march on me, and there really was not any necessity, for our interests do not clash in the least. It was different between you and poor old Densham, but he's given it up of his own accord and he sailed for India yesterday.”

”Poor old chap!” Wolfenden said softly. ”He would not tell you, I suppose, even at the last, what it was that he had heard about--these people?”

”He would not tell me,” Harcutt answered; ”but he sent a message to you. He wished me to remind you that you had been friends for fifteen years, and he was not likely to deceive you. He was leaving the country, he said, because he had certain and definite information concerning the girl, which made it absolutely hopeless for either you or he to think of her. His advice to you was to do the same.”

”I do not doubt Densham,” Wolfenden said slowly; ”but I doubt his information. It came from a woman who has been Densham's friend. Then, again, what may seem an insurmountable obstacle to him, may not be so to me. Nothing vague in the shape of warnings will deter me.”

”Well,” Harcutt said, ”I have given you Densham's message and my responsibility concerning it is ended. As you know, my own interests lie in a different direction. Now I want a few minutes' conversation with you. The hotel rooms are a little too public. Are you in a hurry, or can you walk up and down the drive with me once or twice?”

”I can spare half an hour very well,” Wolfenden said; ”but I should prefer to do no more walking just yet. Come and sit down here--it isn't cold.”

They chose a seat looking over the sea. Harcutt glanced carefully all around. There was no possibility of their being overheard, nor indeed was there any one in sight.

”I am developing fresh instincts,” Harcutt said, as he crossed his legs and lit a cigarette. ”I am here, I should like you to understand, purely in a professional capacity--and I want your help.”

”But my dear fellow,” Wolfenden said; ”I don't understand. If, when you say professionally, you mean as a journalist, why, what on earth in this place can there be worth the chronicling? There is scarcely a single person known to society in the neighbourhood.”

”Mr. Sabin is here!” Harcutt remarked quietly.

Wolfenden looked at him in surprise.

”That might have accounted for your presence here as a private individual,” he said; ”but professionally, how on earth can he interest you?”

”He interests me professionally very much indeed,” Harcutt answered.

Wolfenden was getting puzzled.