Part 21 (1/2)
”The one I was driving yesterday would be a great deal more comfortable,” he said; ”to-day I only thought of getting here quickly. I have a little business with Mr. Sabin.”
”Is that a hint for me to go?” she asked. ”You are not agreeable this morning! What possible business can you have with my uncle which does not include me? I am not inclined to go away; I shall stay and listen.”
Mr. Sabin smiled faintly; the girl was showing her sense now at any rate. Wolfenden was obviously embarra.s.sed. Helene remained blandly unconscious of anything serious.
”I suppose,” she said, ”that you want to talk golf again! Golf! Why one hears nothing else but golf down here. Don't you ever shoot or ride for a change?”
Wolfenden was suddenly a.s.sailed by an horrible suspicion. He could scarcely believe that her unconsciousness was altogether natural. At the bare suspicion of her being in league with this man he stiffened. He answered without looking at her, conscious though he was that her dark eyes were seeking his invitingly, and that her lips were curving into a smile.
”I am not thinking of playing golf to-day,” he said. ”Unfortunately I have less pleasant things to consider. If you could give me five minutes, Mr. Sabin,” he added, ”I should be very glad.”
She rose immediately with all the appearance of being genuinely offended; there was a little flush in her cheeks and she walked straight to the door. Wolfenden held it open for her.
”I am exceedingly sorry to have been in the way for a moment,” she said; ”pray proceed with your business at once.”
Wolfenden did not answer her. As she pa.s.sed through the doorway she glanced up at him; he was not even looking at her. His eyes were fixed upon Mr. Sabin. The fingers which rested upon the door k.n.o.b seemed twitching with impatience to close it. She stood quite still for a moment; the colour left her cheeks, and her eyes grew soft. She was not angry any longer. Instinctively some idea of the truth flashed in upon her; she pa.s.sed out thoughtfully. Wolfenden closed the door and turned to Mr. Sabin.
”You can easily imagine the nature of my business,” he said coldly. ”I have come to have an explanation with you.”
Mr. Sabin lit a fresh cigarette and smiled on Wolfenden thoughtfully.
”Certainly,” he said; ”an explanation! Exactly!”
”Well,” said Wolfenden, ”suppose you commence, then.”
Mr. Sabin looked puzzled.
”Had you not better be a little more explicit?” he suggested gently.
”I will be,” Wolfenden replied, ”as explicit as you choose. My mother has given me her whole confidence. I have come to ask how you dare to enter Deringham Hall as a common burglar attempting to commit a theft; and to demand that you instantly return to me a letter, on which you have attempted to levy blackmail. Is that explicit enough?”
Mr. Sabin's face did not darken, nor did he seem in any way angry or discomposed. He puffed at his cigarette for a moment or two, and then looked blandly across at his visitor.
”You are talking rubbish,” he said in his usual calm, even tones, ”but you are scarcely to blame. It is altogether my own fault. It is quite true that I was in your house last night, but it was at your mother's invitation, and I should very much have preferred coming openly at the usual time, to sneaking in according to her directions through a window. It was only a very small favour I asked, but Lady Deringham persuaded me that your father's mental health and antipathy to strangers was such that he would never give me the information I desired, voluntarily, and it was entirely at her suggestion that I adopted the means I did. I am very sorry indeed that I allowed myself to be over-persuaded and placed in an undoubtedly false position. Women are always nervous and imaginative, and I am convinced that if I had gone openly to your father and laid my case before him he would have helped me.”
”He would have done nothing of the sort!” Wolfenden declared. ”Nothing would induce him to show even a portion of his work to a stranger.”
Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders gently, and continued without heeding the interruption.
”As to my blackmailing Lady Deringham, you have spoken plainly to me, and you must forgive me for answering you in the same fas.h.i.+on. It is a lie! I had letters of hers, which I voluntarily destroyed in her presence; they were only a little foolish, or I should have destroyed them long ago. I had the misfortune to be once a favoured suitor for your mother's hand; and I think I may venture to say--I am sure she will not contradict me--that I was hardly treated. The only letter I ever had from her likely to do her the least harm I destroyed fifteen years ago, when I first embarked upon what has been to a certain extent a career of adventure. I told her that it was not in the packet which we burnt together yesterday. If she understood from that that it was still in my possession, and that I was retaining it for any purpose whatever, she was grievously mistaken in my words. That is all I have to say.”
He had said it very well indeed. Wolfenden, listening intently to every word, with his eyes rigidly fixed upon the man's countenance, could not detect a single false note anywhere. He was puzzled. Perhaps his mother had been nervously excited, and had mistaken some sentence of his for a covert threat. Yet he thought of her earnestness, her terrible earnestness, and a sense of positive bewilderment crept over him.
”We will leave my mother out of the question then,” he said. ”We will deal with this matter between ourselves. I should like to know exactly what part of my father's work you are so anxious to avail yourself of, and for what purpose?”
Mr. Sabin drew a letter from his pocket, and handed it over to Wolfenden. It was from the office of one of the first European Reviews, and briefly contained a request that Mr. Sabin would favour them with an article on the comparative naval strengths of European Powers, with particular reference to the armament and coast defences of Great Britain. Wolfenden read it carefully and pa.s.sed it back. The letter was genuine, there was no doubt about that.
”It seemed to me,” Mr. Sabin continued, ”the most natural thing in the world to consult your father upon certain matters concerning which he is, or has been, a celebrated authority. In fact I decided to do so at the instigation of one of the Lords of your Admiralty, to whom he is personally well known. I had no idea of acting except in the most open manner, and I called at Deringham Hall yesterday afternoon, and sent in my card in a perfectly orthodox way, as you may have heard. Your mother took quite an unexpected view of the whole affair, owing partly to your father's unfortunate state of health and partly to some extraordinary attempts which, I am given to understand, have been made to rob him of his work. She was very anxious to help me, but insisted that it must be secretly. Last night's business was, I admit, a ghastly mistake--only it was not my mistake! I yielded to Lady Deringham's proposals under strong protest. As a man, I think I may say of some intelligence, I am ashamed of the whole affair; at the same time I am guilty only of an indiscretion which was sanctioned and instigated by your mother. I really do not see how I can take any blame to myself in the matter.”
”You could scarcely attribute to Lady Deringham,” Wolfenden remarked, ”the injury to the watchman.”
”I can take but little blame to myself,” Mr. Sabin answered promptly. ”The man was drunk; he had been, I imagine, made drunk, and I merely pushed him out of the way. He fell heavily, but the fault was not mine. Look at my physique, and remember that I was unarmed, and ask yourself what mischief I could possibly have done to the fellow.”
Wolfenden reflected.
”You appear to be anxious,” he said, ”to convince me that your desire to gain access to a portion of my father's papers is a harmless one. I should like to ask you why you have in your employ a young lady who was dismissed from Deringham Hall under circ.u.mstances of strong suspicion?”
Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
”It is the first time I have heard of anything suspicious connected with Miss Merton,” he said. ”She came into my service with excellent testimonials, and I engaged her at Willing's bureau. The fact that she had been employed at Deringham Hall was merely a coincidence.”
”Was it also a coincidence,” Wolfenden continued, ”that in reply to a letter attempting to bribe my father's secretary, Mr. Blatherwick, it was she, Miss Merton, who kept an appointment with him?”
”That,” Mr. Sabin answered, ”I know nothing of. If you wish to question Miss Merton you are quite at liberty to do so; I will send for her.”
Wolfenden shook his head.
”Miss Merton was far too clever to commit herself,” he said; ”she knew from the first that she was being watched, and behaved accordingly. If she was not there as your agent, her position becomes more extraordinary still.”
”I can a.s.sure you,” Mr. Sabin said, with an air of weariness, ”that I am not the man of mystery you seem to think me. I should never dream of employing such roundabout means for gaining possession of a few statistics.”
Wolfenden was silent. His case was altogether one of surmises; he could prove nothing.
”Perhaps,” he said, ”I have been precipitate. It would appear so. But if I am unduly suspicious, you have yourself only to blame! You admit that your name is an a.s.sumed one. You refuse my suit to your niece without any reasonable cause. You are evidently, to be frank, a person of much more importance than you lay claim to be. Now be open with me. If there is any reason, although I cannot conceive an honest one, for concealing your ident.i.ty, why, I will respect your confidence absolutely. You may rely upon that. Tell me who you are, and who your niece is, and why you are travelling about in this mysterious way.”
Mr. Sabin smiled good-humouredly.
”Well,” he said, ”you must forgive me if I plead guilty to the false ident.i.ty--and preserve it. For certain reasons it would not suit me to take even you into my confidence. Besides which, if you will forgive my saying so, there does not seem to be the least necessity for it. We are leaving here during the week, and shall in all probability go abroad almost at once; so we are not likely to meet again. Let us part pleasantly, and abandon a somewhat profitless discussion.”
For a moment Wolfenden was staggered. They were leaving England! Going away! That meant that he would see no more of Helene. His indignation against the man, kindled almost into pa.s.sionate anger by his mother's story, was forgotten, overshadowed by a keen thrill of personal disappointment. If they were really leaving England, he might bid farewell to any chance of winning her; and there were certain words of hers, certain gestures, which had combined to fan that little flame of hope, which nothing as yet had ever been able to extinguish. He looked into Mr. Sabin's quiet face, and he was conscious of a sense of helplessness. The man was too strong and too wily for him; it was an unequal contest.
”We will abandon the discussion then, if you will,” Wolfenden said slowly. ”I will talk with Lady Deringham again. She is in an extremely nervous state; it is possible of course that she may have misunderstood you.”
Mr. Sabin sighed with an air of gentle relief. Ah! if the men of other countries were only as easy to delude as these Englishmen! What a triumphant career might yet be his!
”I am very glad,” he said, ”that you do me the honour to take, what I can a.s.sure you, is the correct view of the situation. I hope that you will not hurry away; may I not offer you a cigarette?”
Wolfenden sat down for the first time.
”Are you in earnest,” he asked, ”when you speak of leaving England so soon?”
”a.s.suredly! You will do me the justice to admit that I have never pretended to like your country, have I? I hope to leave it for several years, if not for ever, within the course of a few weeks.”
”And your niece, Mr. Sabin?”
”She accompanies me, of course; she likes this country even less than I do. Perhaps, under the circ.u.mstances, our departure is the best thing that could happen; it is at any rate opportune.”