Part 45 (1/2)
he remarked pleasantly.
”We shall see!” she exclaimed, with a merry little peal of laughter.
Rising and stretching forth her hand, she added, ”I must be going. I consign the certificate to your care, and if you want me you know my address. I shall remain in London till the matter is settled.”
The old man rose, and grasped the hand offered to him. Bidding her adieu, he again a.s.sured her that he would give his prompt attention to the business on hand, and, as his clerk entered at that moment, he ceremoniously bowed her out.
During the time Valerie had been in conversation with Mr. Graham, a woman had been standing on the opposite side of the Strand, against the railings of the Law Courts, intently watching the persons emerging from Devereux Court. She was young and not bad-looking, but her wan face betrayed the pinch of poverty, and her dress, although rather shabby, was nevertheless fas.h.i.+onable. Her dark features were refined, and her bright eyes had an earnest, intense look in them as she stood in watchful expectancy.
After she had kept the narrow pa.s.sage under observation for nearly an hour, the object of her diligent investigation suddenly came into view.
It was Valerie, who, when she gained the thoroughfare, hesitated for a moment whether she should walk or take a cab to the Prince of Wales'
Club. Deciding upon the former course, as she wanted to call at a shop on the way, she turned and walked along the Strand in the direction of Charing Cross.
When the woman who had been waiting caught sight of her she gave vent to an imprecation, the fingers of her gloveless hands twitched nervously, and her sharp nails buried themselves in the flesh of her palms.
As she started to walk in the same direction she muttered aloud to herself, in mixed French and English--
”Then I was not mistaken. To think I have waited for so long, and I find you here! You little dream that I am here! Ah, you fancy you have been clever; that your secret is safe; that the police here in London will not know Valerie Dedieu! You have yet to discover your mistake.
Ha, ha! what a tableau that will be when you and I are quits! _Bien_, for the present I will wait and ascertain what is going on.”
Throughout the whole length of the Strand the strange woman walked on the opposite pavement, always keeping Valerie in sight--a difficult task sometimes, owing to the crowded state of the thoroughfare. At a jeweller's near Charing Cross, Mrs. Trethowen stopped for a few minutes, then, resuming her walk, crossed Trafalgar Square, and went up the Haymarket to the Prince of Wales' Club, calmly unconscious of the woman who was following and taking such intense interest in her movements.
Muttering to herself sentences in French, interspersed by many epithets and imprecations, she waited for Valerie's reappearance, and then continued to follow her down the Haymarket and through St. James's Park to her flat in Victoria Street.
She saw her enter the building, and, after allowing her a few moments to ascend the stairs, returned and ascertained the number of the suite.
Then she turned away and walked in the direction of Westminster Bridge, smiling and evidently on very good terms with herself. Indeed, she had made a discovery which meant almost more to her than she could realise.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
AT LA NOUVELLE.
A wide, vast expanse of gla.s.sy sapphire sea.
The giant mountains rose in the west, sheer and steep--purple barriers between the land and the setting sun. A golden fire edging their white crests, that grew from their own dense, sombre shadows to the crimson light which flooded their heads, solemn and silent. And the calm Pacific Ocean lay unruffled in the brilliant blood-red afterglow.
Seated upon a great lichen-covered boulder on the outskirts of a dense forest, a solitary man gazed blankly and with unutterable sadness upon the magnificent scene. Above him the trees were hung with a drapery of vines and tropical creepers bearing red and purple flowers, and forming natural arches and bowers more beautiful than ever fas.h.i.+oned by man.
Parrots and other birds of bright plumage were flying about among the trees--among them guacamayas, or great macaws, large, clothed in red, yellow, and green, and when on the wing displaying a splendid plumage.
But there were also vultures and scorpions, and, running across the road to the beach and up the trees, innumerable iguanas. Great cocoanut and plantain trees jutted out and ma.s.sed themselves to the right and to the left. A mountain torrent, sweeping swiftly over a moss-grown rocky ledge, seethed for a few moments in white foam, and then gurgled away down the bright s.h.i.+ngles into the sea.
The man sat there stonily, voiceless, motionless, his chin fallen upon his chest, his hands clasped in front of him. Dressed in grey s.h.i.+rt and trousers that were ragged and covered with dust and dried clay, his appearance was scarcely prepossessing. On the back of his s.h.i.+rt was painted in large black numerals ”3098,” and his ankles were fettered by two oblong iron links. He was a convict.
Under the broad-brimmed, battered straw hat that protected his head from the tropical glare was a ruddy, auburn-bearded face, with sad blue eyes which at times turned anxiously up and down the beach path--the sun-tanned face of Hugh Trethowen.
His pickaxe lay on the ground before him, for he was resting after his long day's toil in the mine.
Toil! He shuddered when he thought of the weary monotony of his life.
Down in the dark, dismal working he was compelled to hew and delve for twelve hours each day, and to satisfactorily perform the task set him by his warder before he was allowed his ration of food. Half an hour's relaxation when leaving the mine was all that the discipline allowed, after which the convicts were compelled to return to the prison to their evening meal, and afterwards to work at various trades for two hours longer before they were sent to their cells. The French Republic shows no leniency towards prisoners condemned to _travaux forces_, and transported to the penal settlement in New Caledonia, consequently the latter live under a regime that is terribly harsh and oft-times absolutely inhuman.