Part 55 (2/2)
”Dies!” cried Vine, with a start of horror. ”No, no; he is not so bad as that.”
”As bad as a man can be to live.”
”You forget yourself, Crampton,” said Vine, with dignity. ”You forget yourself. But there, I can look over it all now. I know what you must feel. Go and tell Mrs Van Heldre or Miss Madelaine that we are here.”
The old man hesitated for a few moments, and then drew back to allow Louise and her father to pa.s.s; but as Harry stepped forward hastily to follow, the old man interposed, and fiercely raised his hand.
”No,” he said. ”I'm master now. Go back! Go back!”
Harry shrank from him as Crampton stood pointing down the street, and then strove hard to master the abject sensation of dread which made him feel that all the old man said was true. He was master now, and with an angry gesture he turned and walked swiftly away, to turn as he reached the end of the street and see Crampton watching him from the door-step, and with his hand still raised.
”Am I such an abject coward that I am frightened of that old man?” he muttered, as he recalled how only a few hours back he used to treat him with a flippant condescending contempt. ”Yes, he's master now, and means to show it. Why did I not go in boldly?”
He knew why, and writhed in his impotence and dread. The task of keeping a bold face on the matter was harder than he thought. He wandered about the town in an objectless way hour after hour, and then went home. His father and sister had not returned, but Aunt Marguerite was down, ready to rise in her artificial manner and extend her hand.
”Ah, Henri, my child,” she said; ”how pale and careworn you look! Where are they all?”
”Van Heldre's,” said Harry shortly.
”Ah, poor man! Very bad, I hear. Yes, it's very sad, but I do not see why his accident should so reverse our regular lives at home. Henri, dear, you must break with Mr Van Heldre after this.”
”I have broken with him, aunt,” cried the young man fiercely.
”Ah! that's right; that is spoken like one of our race should speak.
Good boy. And, Henri, my darling, of course there will be no more silly flirtings with you sister's friend. Remember what I have told you of the fair daughters of France, and let the fraulein marry that man Leslie.”
”Aunt, you'll drive me mad,” exclaimed Harry, grinding his teeth; and without another word he dashed out of the house. His first thought was to go up the cliff path on to the wild granite plain and moors which overlooked the town, but he could not stir in that direction. There was the hunting dread of that locket being found, and he went on down again into the town, and looked about the sh.o.r.e for hours.
The afternoon was growing old, and his mind was becoming better able to bear the brunt of all that was to come.
He raised his eyes, and was on the point of going back home to see if his father and sister had returned, when he caught sight of old Crampton coming out of the post-office, after which the old man walked on in the direction of his home.
The opportunity at last! The office would be unguarded; and, walking swiftly in the direction of Van Heldre's, he turned round into the back lane, and, strung up to act firmly and determinedly, he pressed the back gate.
It was fast.
Desperate and determined now, he went round to the princ.i.p.al office door, but it was locked. Harry drew a long breath, and walked straight to the front door and rang. The maid who opened drew back to let him pa.s.s.
”My father--sister here?”
”In the drawing-room; in with my mistress.”
”No, no,” said Harry hastily, as the maid moved towards the door; ”never mind me; I'll go in soon.”
The woman left him in the hall, and he waited till he heard the kitchen-door close, when he walked swiftly and softly to the gla.s.s window, and hurried into the office.
The inner office door was open, and he darted in, to hastily look all round, under table, chairs, beneath the bookshelves, among the newspapers that lay in places in a heap; but there was no sign of the missing trinket, and an icy feeling of dread began to grow upon him.
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