"EMPTY!"
Meanwhile the merry quartette in the Rolls-Royce had reached their destination rather late, but before she rushed off to dress, Mrs. Speyde eagerly inquired if Miss Travers, and Sir Dudley had arrived?
"No, ma'am, not yet," replied Sutton, the butler.
"Hooray!" she cried, turning to Mayne, "I win five pounds, and I'll gamble it away to-night, on weak, no trumpers."
There happened to be a considerable gathering at the Court that evening. Besides the guests in the house, not a few neighbours were present; and the beautiful old mahogany table loaded with fine silver, and softly shaded candelabra, surrounded by smart and well-favoured young people, looked very gay indeed. The racing party, who had scrambled into their clothes, gradually dropped in between soup, and the second entrée, and heartlessly announced that "the others had evidently lost their way!" It certainly looked like it, for as time advanced, no one appeared to fill the two vacant places;—and vacant places, make a gap, and spoil the symmetry of a dinner table, much as a missing front tooth, mars a pretty face!
"They certainly ought to be here by this time," remarked Mrs. De Wolfe, consulting her wristlet watch, "it's just half-past nine."
"Perhaps the car has broken down?" suggested Major Horne, "and they are walking home!"
"A fairly long walk," said Billy Miller, "and a hatefully lonely road."
"Oh! Dudley won't mind that," said Josie, in an intimate aside.
It had been a lively and festive meal, the guests were all in high good humour. Dessert had been disposed of, and the ladies were awaiting Mrs. De Wolfe's "eye," when Sutton, the butler, entered with unusual solemnity, and bending his head, made some grave announcement in the immediate vicinity of her left ear.
"Nonsense!" she exclaimed in a startled tone, "nonsense!"
"What is it?" demanded Mayne, and his voice sounded masterful, and imperious.
"Sutton tells me, that the car has come back, and that it is empty!"—Meanwhile Sutton stood by, with a face as expressionless as a dinner plate!
"Empty!" echoed Mrs. Horne; "what does he mean?—where are Nancy, and Sir Dudley?"
Sutton cleared his voice twice, and with an overwhelming importance suitable to the occasion, said: "When the footman ran down to open the door just now, there was no one inside the car—nothing but the dust knee cover, and Miss Travers' feather boa."
After a deadly silence, Mrs. De Wolfe pulled herself together, rose and said, as she looked round, "Of course we shall find some ridiculous explanation; meanwhile, let us adjourn,—I will interview Saxton myself."
Whilst the ladies in the drawing-room were whispering, and wondering, and the men in the dining-room were "lighting up" and passing round the port, Mrs. De Wolfe entered the library, there to await her chauffeur. She was accompanied by Roger, and was not a little astonished, when Captain Mayne joined them. He made no excuse whatever, and looked serious, and unlike his usual cheery self. After a short delay, Saxton was ushered in,—a middle-aged, clean-shaven man,—of few words.
"Pray explain, Saxton, where you left Miss Travers, and Sir Dudley?" said his mistress.
"That's more than I can say, ma'am," and there was a moment's silence.
"Well, say something!" urged Mayne impatiently (thrusting a spoon into what was not his porridge).
"All I can say, is, that I never laid an eye on either, from the time we left the race stand—till now."
"Where did you stop?" asked Mayne; promptly forestalling Mrs. De Wolfe's anxious questions.
"At a little old farm by the road, to get water for the engine. I ran round to the pump and wasn't away two minutes—later on we had a fairly long wait, maybe a quarter of an hour, at Harraby railway crossing."
"And you never happened to look back into the car?" suggested Roger De Wolfe.
"No, I never does,—I want all my eyes the other way."
"Very true, all right, go on."
"Well I was just staggered, when Fox opened the door of the car, and turned to me, and said, 'Why didn't you go round to the garage? there's no one inside'—and that's all I know!"
"Very well, Saxton, that will do," said his mistress, "go now and get your supper," and with a military salute, Saxton departed.
"It is the strangest, most extraordinary affair," declared Mrs. De Wolfe. "I expect Nancy has done something wild, and giddy, and we shall have her arriving to-night, in the musty old station fly, full of her adventure, and apologies. I'm not really alarmed,—only puzzled. Well!" rising as she spoke, "I must return to the ladies; you two, have not had your smoke. Don't forget that we are playing Bridge,—and want to make up four tables."
Bridge proved to be unusually engrossing, and it was only when the players happened to be Dummy, that their thoughts wandered to the missing couple. Mayne was not among the card party, he seemed restless, and unsettled, and wandered into the big hall, where he concealed himself in one of the largest arm chairs, behind a newspaper. By twelve o'clock, the last lady guests had retired,—early hours were the rule at the Court.
And just about this time, a sinister whisper began to creep up from the lower regions; it reached Mrs. De Wolfe, as she was taking off her pearls. In spite of her attitude, the old lady was painfully anxious. "Thank God," she said to herself, "there was no fear of an accident,—the car and Saxton had come home intact; but where were Nancy and Dudley? Surely they must know the misery their absence was causing."
Turning to Haynes, her confidential treasure, she said, "Is it not extraordinary about Miss Travers? Although I have said nothing downstairs, I am very uneasy, and half inclined to telephone to the police station. I don't think there's much use in my going to bed, for I shall certainly not sleep. Why, Haynes, what's the matter, your face is all blotches,—you've been crying! Don't be foolish, don't you know, that half the troubles in the world, are those that have never happened."
"But this has happened, ma'am," rejoined the maid with a sniff. "Martin tells me, that Antonio got a wire from his master about eight o'clock telling him where to bring his own car; and to pack his clothes, and get Miss Travers' warm coat, and a few things in a suit case. He said they were going off to Paris together."
The old lady gave a sharp exclamation, then suddenly sat down. "You must be out of your mind!" she cried.
"Martin wouldn't give him a stitch," continued Haynes triumphantly, "not as much as a pocket-handkerchief; she said she didn't believe a word he said—and I know myself, that I've caught him out in awful lies! However, he went and helped himself to a coat out of the hall—one of yours, I think—took most of Sir Dudley's luggage, and went off with the car about ten o'clock: all the men saw him—! Here, wait a second, and I'll get a drop of brandy; keep up, my dear lady, and don't faint if you can help it, and Mrs. De Wolfe did keep up,—although she looked like death.
"I'm too old for these shocks, Haynes," she muttered, after a long silence, "I thought I was hardened! I suppose so far, this story is only known downstairs."
"That's all, ma'am; and I needn't tell you, that not one of the servants would breathe it."
The tale was nevertheless stealing through the house. Mrs. Speyde heard it from her maid; and was at first rudely incredulous. After taking two or three turns up and down the room, she said, "Wait a moment, I'll not undress yet—I've forgotten something downstairs."
"Can't I fetch it, ma'am?"
"No!" waving her back, "I know where it is myself!"
She went softly out along the corridor, and stood looking over the balustrade into the great lounge. Mayne was the only individual below—the other men were assembled in the smoking-room—suddenly he glanced up, and beheld Josie in her flame-coloured garment, drifting down the stairs. She paused half-way, and beckoned to him.
"Derek, I've something to tell you," she whispered, as she halted on the lowest step. Glancing round, she leant forward, and said: "Something dreadful has happened!—Dudley and Nancy have run away to Paris!"
Mayne stood very still—he might have been a stone.
"His own car, and chauffeur have gone to meet them with their luggage—what a terrible blow for the old lady!"
What a terrible blow for Mayne! This was the second time that Nancy had, so to speak, made him to pass through fire. How false, how treacherous, was that young, and innocent face!
As Mayne remained speechless, Josie continued: "So still waters run deep—not that Nancy was ever very still. Although he is my own cousin, I always knew, that Dudley was a bad lot; a regular rotter! but as for the girl, I must confess I'm surprised.—Aren't you?"
"I am," he assented, in a strange dry voice, "surprised in one way, but not in another. It's not the first time, that Miss Travers has run away."
Josie opened her great black eyes, to their widest extent.
"And you knew all about it—so that is the secret between you!" but Mayne made no reply, and to her great astonishment, walked across the hall, snatched his cap from a peg, opened the great door, and went out.
At this moment, the sound of loud and jovial voices approaching, warned her, that the smoking-room party were about to disperse, so she turned about, ran lightly up the stairs, and disappeared into her own apartment. As for Mayne, he went round into the stable-yard, where men were still hanging about: one of the neighbours had not yet taken his departure; he noticed a group of two or three grooms, and a couple of white-capped women in close conference,—they looked like a gang of conspirators. The doors of the great garage had not been closed, and as the moon made everything as bright as day, he saw, that Sir Dudley's big Mercédès had vanished!
As she had prognosticated, Mrs. De Wolfe never slept that night. She looked a wrinkled old wreck, when Haynes brought her her early tea; nevertheless this Spartan matron, insisted upon getting up and having herself dressed as usual. In spite of Haynes' expostulations, she declared, "I'll go down to breakfast, if it costs me my life! The people upstairs know nothing: so far no one knows the truth, except the servants, and I feel sure that they will keep this terrible matter to themselves. All my guests will have departed by twelve o'clock, and then I shall take to my bed. You may call it a chill, or whatever you like, but I depend upon you, to allow no one to come near me."
The old lady's voice was unusually weak: her hands, as she put on her rings, trembled alarmingly. At last she was ready, and just as she was about to leave her room, a familiar figure came flying along the passage, with outstretched hands.
"Nancy!"
"Here I am at last!" she gasped out, "and so dreadfully, dreadfully, sorry, to have tortured you—darling Auntie," embracing her as she spoke.
"Where have you been?" said the trembling old lady, endeavouring to thrust her away.
"Let me come into your room, and tell you all about it." Taking her forcibly by the arm, she added, "Do sit down,—you are shaking all over!"
Mrs. De Wolfe made no reply, but signalled for her to speak.
"I spent last night in a cottage near Lofty.—You've heard about the car having left us behind. This morning, I got up at four o'clock, and walked over the wet fields, to a little station, and caught a milk train; I gave the guard five shillings,—and he dropped me at Haygate. Then I got the old fly,—and here I am!"
"And Dudley,—what has become of Dudley?"
"Haynes," said Nancy, suddenly turning towards her, "would you mind asking Martin to get my bath ready,—I do feel such a grub!"
Yes, for the first time in her life, Nancy appeared positively draggled: her hat was battered, her muslin race-gown torn and soiled, her smart shoes were covered with mud,—whilst her face looked worn, and almost haggard.
As soon as Haynes had departed, she sat down on the sofa by Mrs. De Wolfe, and taking her hand, she said, "Auntie, Sir Dudley has shown himself in his true colours, at last. He is a horrible, false, evil-minded wretch—yes, he is," then very rapidly she told how she could not resist the temptation to inspect the old chest, of the departure of the motor, and the wire dispatched to recall Saxton—sometimes speaking breathlessly, sometimes speaking deliberately, always with a great agitation, Nancy related the story of her experience in Mrs. Bode's front parlour;—to all of which her companion listened with an expression of incredulous horror.
When at last Nancy ceased to speak, she said: "Oh, to think of Dudley: Dudley, whom I've almost thought of as a son,—what a traitor! If anyone but you, had told me this—I would not have believed it. I must confess, this adventure of yours, has been a terrible revelation, another illusion destroyed. I have lost a life-long belief. Well, what you and I, have now to do, is to conceal this escapade. I shall go down, and announce your return. What cock and a bull story am I to tell them, Nancy?"
She rose as she spoke, and confronted her young friend,—looking terribly old, and shaken.
"Tell them?" repeated Nancy, "let me think! Tell them, that Sir Dudley and I were left behind,—thanks to Saxton's mistake, and that I was obliged to remain at the cottage for the night; but that Sir Dudley made his way to the nearest station, and went up to London. Do you think that will do?"
"It may pass! but what about his sending for his own car?"
"I don't suppose that will come out till later."
"No! Of course the servants will talk,—but their masters and mistresses who are leaving me to-day are bound to believe my version of the adventure,—the least they can do after a week's hospitality!"
"Then I shall hurry off and have my bath, and dress," said Nancy, "and come down as soon as possible, and show myself. It will be rather a strain, all things considered, for just at present, I should like to go away, and have a really good comfortable cry."