Part 34 (2/2)
Liane's first inclination was not to comply with the request, for knowing the crafty nature of this woman, she feared that the words had been written merely to place her off her guard. Yet immediately after luncheon at the Villa Chevrier on the following day she declared her intention of going down to the English library to get some books, and leaving her father and the Prince smoking over their liqueurs, went out upon the Promenade. As soon, however, as she was out of sight of the windows of the villa, she hailed a pa.s.sing cab and drove to the Grand Hotel, where she found George sitting in a wicker-chair in the doorway, consoling himself by smoking a cigarette and awaiting her.
”You have come at last,” he cried, approaching the carriage. ”Don't get out. We will drive straight to the station,” and stepping in, he gave the man directions.
”What does this mean?” inquired Liane, eagerly.
”I cannot tell its meaning, dearest,” he answered. ”I merely received a note, saying that you would call for me on your way to Monaco.”
”Have you no idea why she desires to see both of us?”
”None whatever,” he replied.
”You have found her,” she observed in a deep, earnest tone. ”In my letter she says that you are her friend. You don't know her true character, I suppose,” his well-beloved added, looking earnestly into his eyes. ”If you did you would not visit her.”
”She lives in an air of the most severe respectability,” he said. ”I dined at the Villa Fortunee the night before last, and found her an extremely pleasant hostess.”
She smiled. Then, while driving along the Avenue de la Gare to the station she told him of Mariette's past in similar words to those used by Madame Bertholet. He sat listening eagerly, but a dark shadow crossed his features when, in conclusion, she added, ”Such, unfortunately, is the woman who is to be bribed to marry you.”
They alighted, obtained their tickets, crossed the platform, and entered the _rapide_. It was crowded with people going to Monte Carlo, and the tunnels rendered the journey hot, dusty and unpleasant. Nevertheless the distance was not far, and when half-an-hour later they were ascending the steep winding way which led up to the rock of Monaco, Liane's heart sank within her, for she feared that she was acting unwisely.
”It is very remarkable that Mariette should have written to us both in this manner,” George was saying as he strolled on beside the pale-faced graceful girl. ”Evidently she desires to consult us upon some matter of urgency. Perhaps it concerns us both. Who knows?”
”It may,” she answered mechanically. ”She is not, however, a person to trust. Women of her character have, alas! neither feeling nor honour.”
”Is she, then, so notoriously bad?” he asked in surprise.
”You know who and what I am,” she answered, turning to him, her grave grey eyes fixed upon his. ”I have been forced against my inclination to frequent the gambling-rooms through months, nay years, and I knew Mariette Lepage long ago as the most vicious of all the women who hovered about the tables in search of dupes.”
By her manner he saw that she was annoyed, and jealous that he should have visited and dined with this woman so strangely referred to in his father's will, and he hastened to re-a.s.sure her that there was but one woman in the world for him.
”Then you will not marry her?” she cried eagerly. ”Do not, for my sake.
If you knew all you would rather cast the money into yonder sea than become her husband.”
”Well,” he said, ”it is imperative that she should be offered the bribe to become my wife. If she refuses I shall gain fifty thousand pounds.
I have thought of buying her refusal by offering to divide equally with her the sum I shall obtain.”
”Excellent!” she cried, enthusiastically. ”I never thought of that. If she will do so the cruel punishment your father intended will be turned to pleasure, and you will be twenty-five thousand pounds the richer.”
”I will approach her,” he said, after brief hesitation. ”You know, darling, that I love you far too well to contemplate marriage with any other woman.”
”But remember, I can never become your wife,” she observed huskily, her eyes behind her veil filled to overflowing with tears. ”I am debarred from that.”
”Ah! no,” he cried, ”don't say that. Let us hope on.”
”All hope within me is dead,” she answered gloomily. ”I care nothing now for the future. In a few brief days we are leaving here, and I shall say farewell, George, never again to meet you.”
”You always speak so strangely and so dismally,” he said. ”You will never tell me anything of the reason you are so irrevocably bound to Zertho. In the old days at Stratfield you always took me into your confidence.”
”Yes, yes,” she answered, quickly. ”I would tell you everything if I could--but I dare not. You would hate me.”
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