Part 19 (1/2)

”In a word, then--bolt,” said Sir Allan laconically.

”That is your advice, is it?”

”I don't see anything else to do. I don't ask you whether you are guilty or not, and I do ask myself whether I am doing my duty in giving you any advice calculated to defeat the ends of justice. I simply consider the facts, and tell you what I should do if I were in your unfortunate position. I should bolt.”

”Thank you, Sir Allan, for your advice so far,” Mr. Brown said quietly.

”There is just one little complication, however, which I wish to tell you of.”

”Yes. Might I trouble you to put the matter in as short a form as possible, then?” Sir Allan remarked, looking at his watch. ”I am dining with the Prime Minister to-night, and it is time I commenced to dress.”

”I will not detain you much longer,” Mr. Brown said. ”The complication, I fear, will scarcely interest you, for it is a sentimental one. If I fled from England to-night, I should leave behind me the woman I love.”

”Then why the devil don't you take her with you?” asked Sir Allan, with a shrug of the shoulders. ”She'll go right enough if you ask her. Women like a little mystery.”

”The woman whom I love appears to be of a different cla.s.s to those from whom you have drawn your experience,” Mr. Brown answered quietly. ”I am not married to her.”

Sir Allan shrugged his shoulders lightly.

”Well, if she's a prude, and won't go, and you haven't pluck enough to run away with her, I don't know how to advise you,” he remarked.

Mr. Brown looked steadily into the other's face. Sir Allan met his gaze blandly.

”Your speech, Sir Allan, betrays a cynicism which I believe is greatly in fas.h.i.+on just now,” Mr. Brown said slowly. ”Sometimes it is altogether a.s.sumed, sometimes it is only a thin veneer adopted in obedience to the decree of fas.h.i.+on. Believing that, so far as you are concerned, the latter is the case, I beg you to look back into your past life, and recall, if possible, some of its emotions. Again I tell you that if I fly from England, I shall leave behind me the woman I dearly love. I have come to you, Sir Allan Beaumerville, with an effort. I lay all these facts before you, and I ask you to decide for me. What shall I do?”

”And I repeat, my dear fellow,” answered Sir Allan suavely, ”that the only advice I can give you is, to leave England to-night!”

Mr. Brown hesitated for a moment. Then he turned away toward the door without a word or gesture of farewell.

”By the by,” Sir Allan remarked, ”one moment, Mr. Brown! Have you any objection to telling me the name of the lady who has been honored with your affection. Do I know her?”

”You do. Her name is no concern of yours, though.”

Suddenly an unpleasant idea seemed to flash across Sir Allan's mind. He was more disturbed than he had been during the whole of the interview.

”Of course you don't mean that charming Miss Thurwell?” he said quickly.

The limits of Mr. Brown's endurance seemed to have been pa.s.sed. He turned suddenly round, his eyes blazing with pa.s.sion, and walked across the room to within a few feet of Sir Allan. He stood there with one hand grasping the back of a chair, and looked at him.

”And if I did mean her, sir, what is that to you? By what right do you dare to----”

Suddenly his upraised hand fell. Both men stood as though turned to stone, listening, yet scarcely daring to glance toward the door. It was the sound of Morton's quiet voice and the trailing of skirts which had checked Mr. Brown's pa.s.sionate speech.

”Lady and Miss Thurwell!”

There was no time to move, scarcely time for thought. Morton stood respectfully at the door, and the two ladies were already on the threshold.

”My dear Sir Allan”--in Lady Thurwell's silvery voice--”what will you think of such a late visit? I felt ashamed to ask for you, only we have been at the Countess of Applecorn's in the next square, and I could positively not pa.s.s your door when I remembered that it was your afternoon. But you are all in darkness; and you have a visitor, haven't you?”

The figures of the two men were barely visible in the deep gloom of the apartment, for the lamp had burned low, and gave little light. Lady Thurwell had stopped just inside the room, surprised.