Part 31 (2/2)
Come along, there's not a moment to lose, or we shan't be back in time for _table d'hote_. Why, you've hidden yourselves all the afternoon.”
”We plead guilty to the indictment, old fellow,” Hugh replied, jumping to his feet enthusiastically. ”The fact is, I've spent the afternoon very profitably, for I've won a wife.”
”Oh!” he exclaimed in surprise, raising his eyebrows, and exchanging a quick glance with mademoiselle.
”Yes, Valerie has consented to marry me. We leave this place to-morrow, and shall be married in London within a month.”
”Bravo! I congratulate you both,” he said, grasping Trethowen's hand, and raising his hat politely to mademoiselle.
”Thanks, Adolphe,” replied Hugh. ”All I desire is that our future may be as bright and cloudless as to-day.”
”What can mar it? Why, nothing! You and Valerie love one another--I suspected it from the first,” he remarked, laughing. ”You will marry, settle down in comfort and happiness, and grow old and grey, like--like the couple in your English song--Darby and Joan.”
They laughed merrily in chorus.
”I don't much admire your prophecy. It's bad form to speak of a woman growing old,” observed Valerie reprovingly. ”Nevertheless, I'm confident we shall be as happy as the pair in the song. And when we're married, I'm sure Hugh will welcome you as one of our dearest friends.”
”Of course,” answered Trethowen. ”Adolphe and the Count will always be welcome at Coombe. By Jove, when I get them down there I'll have my revenge at baccarat, too.”
”Why, look, here's the Count coming after us,” exclaimed Valerie, suddenly catching sight of a distant figure in a grey tweed suit and white waistcoat. ”Come, let's go and meet him.”
So the trio started off in that direction.
After meeting him they emerged from the avenue into the Place Royale, and Trethowen left them for a moment to purchase some cigars.
”I've had a visitor to-day,” mademoiselle exclaimed, as she strolled on with Victor and Pierre; ”some one you both know.”
”Who?” asked the men eagerly.
”Willoughby.”
”Willoughby!” gasped Berard, halting in amazement. ”Then he has tracked us! He must be silenced.”
”Don't act rashly,” remarked Valerie coolly. ”You forget there's a bond between us that renders it extremely undesirable that he should divulge anything. For the present, at least, we are quite safe. I've effected a compromise with him which is just as binding on one side as on the other. After all, when everything is considered, our prospects have never been rosier than they are at this moment.”
”But Willoughby. He can ruin us if he chooses. He knows of the affair at Carqueiranne.”
”And what if he does? How could he prove who did it? If he knew, don't you think he would have had the reward long ago?” she argued.
”Has he seen Trethowen?”
”No; if he had, the circ.u.mstances might be different,” she replied coolly.
”Keep them apart. They must not meet, for reasons you well understand,”
he said significantly; for, truth to tell, he feared the captain more than he did his Satanic Majesty himself.
”Of course, a recognition would be decidedly awkward,” she admitted; ”but they are not likely to see one another--at least, not yet. Up to the present my diplomacy has proved effectual. With regard to the ugly incidents which you mentioned, have I not coerced Jack Egerton into silence, and my husband, he is--”
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