Part 30 (1/2)
”Twenty-five thousand francs,” he repeated. ”You want me to sell you your liberty for that, do you?”
”Yes, if it pleases you to put it in that way.” Then, with an air of unconcern, she added: ”I merely suggest a bargain which you can either accept or reject. After all, it is, perhaps, immaterial.”
”Your freedom must be worth a good deal to you if you are prepared to pay that price for it,” her husband observed shrewdly.
”I desire to sever the tie, that's all.”
”You enjoy perfect liberty,” remarked the captain. ”What more can you desire?”
”I cannot marry.”
”Is that your intention?” he inquired, half convinced that this was the real cause of her conciliatory att.i.tude.
”I really don't know,” she answered unconcernedly. ”Yet, even if I did, what would it matter if we were legally separated? You could marry also.”
The captain was a polished rogue, and fully alive to the fertility of his wife's skilful devices. He knew she possessed an inexhaustible, imperturbable confidence, and was wondering what could be the character of the plan she was evidently bent upon carrying into effect. Twisting his moustache thoughtfully, he kept his keen eyes fixed upon her.
”I don't feel inclined to accept your remarkable suggestion,” he observed at length. ”You're a clever woman, Valerie, and you never forget to act in your own interests.”
”Who but a fool does?” she laughed. His refusal was disappointing, nevertheless she preserved her calm demeanour, and, shrugging her shoulders indifferently, exclaimed: ”Very well, I don't wish to press the matter. I shall merely refuse to return to you, whether you obtain the divorce or not. Surely twenty-five thousand francs and your law expenses would serve as a panacea to heal your broken heart. However, if you won't accept it, you'll be that much the poorer.”
”Well, even supposing I desired to do it, I should be unable.”
”Why?”
”Because I've no money with which to commence the suit.”
”Oh, that obstacle is easily removed,” she declared, diving into her pocket, and producing a well-filled purse, which bulged out with paper money she had won on the previous night.
Selecting three notes of 200 francs each she offered them to him, saying--
”These will be sufficient to start operations with. When that is exhausted telegraph for more, and you shall have it.”
The gamester's impecuniosity caused him to regard the proffered notes with covetous eye. After all, he reflected, it would be an easy and profitable way of earning a good round sum. The prospect of being divorced from this beautiful yet heartless woman was not at all disagreeable. He might even make a rich marriage himself.
This latter reflection impressed itself upon his mind.
”Our marriage was a dismal failure--a miserable mistake. We hate one another heartily; therefore I'm willing to pay handsomely for the service you can render me. As we were married in London, you will have to return there and commence the suit,” she said.
Willoughby was still undecided, but at length the temptation proved too great.
”Well, I suppose I must,” he said, as he thrust the notes into his pocket after some further argument. ”But won't you give me more? To you a divorce is worth double.”
”No, not another sou. You can take it or leave it.”
He saw that to endeavour to obtain more would be futile.
”It's agreed,” he said, at last. ”I'll sell you your liberty for twenty-five thousand francs.”
”Ah! I thought you wouldn't refuse my munificent offer,” she observed, with a light laugh.
Rising and walking to a side-table whereon were writing materials, she penned the following lines in French, in a fine angular hand:--