Part 29 (1/2)
As she sat, silent and thoughtful, the door opened softly, and a tall, dark, well-dressed man entered noiselessly. He was good-looking, with a carriage that was unmistakably military, and a carefully trained moustache. Glancing quickly round with eyes that had a rather fierce look in them, he walked over to where mademoiselle sat, and halted behind her chair.
”So I've found you at last, madame,” he exclaimed harshly in English, placing a heavy hand upon her shoulder.
The unexpected voice startled her.
”_You_!” she gasped, jumping to her feet and turning pale.
”Yes,” he replied, leaning against the edge of the table and thrusting his hands into his pockets with an easy, nonchalant air. ”You scarcely expected this meeting,--did you, eh? Well, although it is a long time ago since you took it into your head to leave me, you see I haven't quite lost sight of you. And, after all, it is but natural that I should be solicitous of your welfare since you are my wife,” he added grimly.
”Wretch! Why have you come here?” she asked in ill-concealed alarm.
”To see you, pretty one,” he answered. ”Three years is rather a long period to be absent from one's wife, you'll admit.”
”Wife!” she cried in a tone of disgust. ”Why not call me by my proper name? I was your slave, Captain Willoughby. You used me to decoy young men to your house so that you might fleece them at cards, and when I refused any longer to partic.i.p.ate in your schemes you used brute force towards me. See!” she continued, unb.u.t.toning the sleeve of her bodice, and exposing her bare arm--”see, I still bear a mark of your ill-treatment.”
He smiled at her indignation.
”It's very pleasant to talk in this strain, no doubt,” he observed, ”but you have apparently overlooked one rather disagreeable fact--that when leaving Cannes, you took twenty thousand francs belonging to me.”
”And what if I did, pray? I left you because of your cruelty, and I've not since applied to you for maintenance, nor even sought a divorce.”
”That's true. But now you've had your fling, perhaps you won't object to return to your lawful husband.”
”You must be an imbecile to think that I would.”
”What! You will not?” he cried angrily.
”No, never. I hate and loathe you.”
”That makes but little difference,” said he coolly. ”Nevertheless, as a wife would be of a.s.sistance to me just now, I mean that you shall return to me.”
”But I tell you I will never do so,” she declared emphatically.
”Then I shall simply compel you, that's all.”
”You! _Sapristi_! Surely I'm my own mistress; therefore, do you think it probable that I should ever return to be the tool of a miserable cardsharper? No; I left you in the hope that I should never look upon your hateful face again, and if you think it possible that we could ever bury the past and become reconciled, I can at once disabuse your mind.
If I were a sentimental schoolgirl it might be different, but I think you'll find me too clever for you this time,” she said indignantly.
”Don't antic.i.p.ate that I desire a reconciliation,” he remarked in an indifferent tone. ”Valerie Duvauchel--or whatever you now call yourself--is too well-known to be a desirable companion for long--”
”You need say no more,” she cried in anger. ”I understand. You want me again to entice men to their ruin. It is true that I am your wife. I curse the day when I took the idiotic step of marrying you, but I tell you once and for all that I'll never return to you.”
”You shall,” he cried, grasping her roughly by the wrist. ”You shall-- I'll compel you By heaven! I will!”
There was a look in his eyes that she did not like. She was cowed for a few moments, but her timidity was not of long duration.
”I defy you!” she screamed. ”Do your worst. I'm perfectly able to defend myself.”
”Then perhaps you'll defend yourself when you are arrested for the little affair at Carqueiranne. There's a warrant still out, and a reward offered for your apprehension--remember that.”