THE PRICE OF SILENCE
"You are Robert Darcy's wife," he said slowly, trying to adjust his ideas to this altered state of affairs. Then, as some comprehension of the results which would follow this declaration dawned upon him, he continued:—
"Why have you told me this?"
"Because I need your co-operation, and you're the only man I know whom I can trust to keep the secret."
"I've given you no pledge to do so."
"Quite true, and I've asked for none; but I've misread you sadly, if you can't keep a still tongue in your head, when the advantage to all concerned by so doing can be made clear to you."
"Can you prove your point?"
"Yes, even to your satisfaction."
"I'm all attention," he said.
"In the first place," she began, "you must understand that Colonel Darcy and I were secretly married four years ago, in Ireland. I'll show you my marriage certificate, to prove my words, when we return to the house. I always carry it with me in case of an emergency."
Kent-Lauriston nodded, and she continued:—
"The Colonel married me under the impression that I was an heiress. I married him because I thought I loved him. We both discovered our mistakes within the first few days. No one knew of the step we had taken, so we agreed to separate. This is a practical age. As Miss Fitzgerald I'd hosts of friends; as Mrs. Darcy, a girl who had made a worse than foolish marriage, I should have had none. The Colonel had expected his wife to support him; he was in no condition to support her. His regiment was ordered to India; if he resigned, his income was gone. We decided to keep our secret. I remained Miss Fitzgerald. He went to India. Three years later he was invalided home. Travelling for his health, he returned by way of South America. There he met Inez De Costa, and won her love. She combined the two things he most craved, position and wealth. He had heard nothing from me for many months. He allowed his inclinations to guide his reason, and, trusting that I was dead, or had done something foolish, he married her and returned to England. We met. My natural impulse was to denounce him, but sober second thought showed the futility of such a course. I'd nothing to gain; everything to lose. He sent me money. I returned it. Do you believe that?"
"I believe you implicitly," replied Kent-Lauriston.
"Then he came to see me; for I think he still loved me. He came, I say, fearfully at first, lest I should betray him. Then growing bolder, he threw off all reserve. Believing, fool that he was, because I didn't denounce him, that I could ever forget or forgive the wrong he'd done me. He mistook compliance for forgetfulness, even had the audacity to suggest that I, too, should marry.
"Then this scheme for defeating the treaty was proposed to him. He was willing enough to undertake it, for his second matrimonial venture had been a pecuniary failure, thanks to the wisdom of Señor De Costa in tying up his daughter's property; but he lacked the brains to carry it out, and, like the fool that he is, came to me for assistance. I had lulled his suspicions, and he needed a confederate. He even held out vague promises of a future for us both, as if I'd believe his attested oath, after what had passed! I consented to help him, and would have brought the matter to a successful issue, if it hadn't been for his stupidity. What did I care about the success or failure of his plot? It had put the man in my power, put him where I wanted to have him. At any time within the last six weeks I could have forced him to publicly recognise me, if need were."
"What prevented you from doing this?"
"I'd fallen in love with your friend. Yes, I admit it. It was weak, pitiably weak. At first I played with him, then too late I understood my own feelings."
"But it could have come to nothing."
"Can you suppose I didn't realise that keenly? Yet I hoped against hope that Darcy would die; that he'd be apprehended and imprisoned, and perish of the rigours of hard labour; anything that would set me free. Then I saw that Stanley loved Inez De Costa. It was an added pang, but it caused me to hesitate; because in taking my revenge, I should wreck both their lives."
"But you? Had you pity for Inez De Costa?"
"Yes, incomprehensible as it may seem to you; for I'd learned to loathe Darcy before he had committed bigamy. I never met her till that night at the Hyde Park Club, and she asked me if I knew her husband. Her husband! I pitied her from that moment. She'd done me no wrong. Why should I wreck her life, if it could be avoided?"
"And now?"
"Now you've solved the problem. Darcy won't dare to contest the suit for divorce. He'll be glad to get rid of her, because he can't control her money. Having the purse-strings, I can force him to recognise me as his wife, after the divorce has been granted. I shall have an assured position, and I can begin to pay back some of my debts," and her eyes flashed.
"And in all this, what is there to compel me to keep your secret?"
"Because the marriage between Inez De Costa and Mr. Stanley might never take place if they knew the truth. I'll keep the secret if you will. She's in no way to blame. At first I hated her; now that I've known her, my hate is turned to pity."
"You're right," said Kent-Lauriston. "I'll keep your secret inviolate."
"Now about the receipt for the forty thousand pounds."
"Yes?"
"I think Mr. Stanley had better see it, it'll save further awkwardness, but I must have it back. It's my one hold over Darcy, my one chance of righting myself."
"There's a receipt for the amount," said Kent-Lauriston, tearing out a leaf from his note-book, on which he wrote a few lines. "I'll be responsible for its return to you. I can't do less."
"Here comes Lieutenant Kingsland now," she said. "Don't say anything. I'll manage this affair."
"Jack!" she called, "come here a moment."
The young officer approached.
"Yes?" he said interrogatively.
"You needn't hesitate to speak before Mr. Kent-Lauriston," she assured him. "He's one of my best friends. You've not forgotten the promise which you made me, when I helped you about arranging your wedding, to do anything I might request?"
"No, and I'd do it if the occasion required," he replied heartily.
"Good," she said, "the occasion is here."
"What must I do?"
"You hold in your possession a receipt from the Victoria Street Branch of the Bank of England for the deposit in my name of five chests belonging to Mr. Riddle."
"Yes, I've been meaning to give it to you."
"I wish you to give it to Mr. Stanley."
"To Mr. Stanley?"
"Yes."
"Is that all?"
"All, except that I charge you, on your honour, never to let him know I asked you to do this. Tell him only that I gave you the chests, and how you disposed of them, and place the receipt in his hands, as coming from yourself. Not a syllable about me, mind!"
"I'll follow your instructions literally; but how am I to have the opportunity of doing this?"
"Mr. Stanley will give you the opportunity, perhaps to-day. Then see that you do it."
"I promise."
"Swear."
"Well, I swear on my honour as an officer and a gentleman."
"Good. One more word. Before to-night you may change your feelings towards me, may feel absolved from all obligations to me; but whatever events occur, do not forget that you have sworn to do this on your honour as an officer and as a gentleman, without any mental reservations whatsoever, and to do neither less nor more than this."
"You can trust me, and if you think that anything my wife——"
"No! no! I do trust you. Go now, and give Mr. Stanley a chance to see you at once. You'll be serving me best so."
He left them wondering, and, she, turning to Kent-Lauriston, said:—
"I tell you it is the greatest proof of my affection for him; for what he thinks of me is worth all the criticism of the world and more. Oh, you may scoff! I know you think him too good for me!"
"Pardon me," interrupted Kent-Lauriston, taking off his hat, and bowing his head over her hand, which he held, "I have misunderstood you."
It was nearly two hours later that the Secretary found time, amidst the distractions of a hurried departure, for he had made his peace with his hostess and was leaving for town that afternoon, to redeem his promise to Lady Isabelle.
"Is Lieutenant Kingsland in the house?" he asked of the servant, who answered his summons.
"He's in the billiard-room, sir."
"Very well. Will you present my compliments to him, and ask him to be so kind as to come to my room for a few minutes?"
In less time than it takes to tell it, the young officer responded to the summons, saying as he entered:—
"Here I am. Can I do anything for you?"
"Perhaps. But I sent for you primarily for the purpose of doing you a favour."
"That sounds encouraging. By the way, did you know that your especial admiration, Darcy, was planning to vacate at the earliest opportunity?"
"Yes," replied the Secretary, drily. "I gave him leave to go, but he's to all intents and purposes under arrest."
"The devil!"
"Quite so, there's the devil to pay, and I'm afraid you may have to foot part of the bill, if you're not careful."
"What do you mean?" cried the Lieutenant, starting uneasily.
"I'll explain. That's why I sent for you; but you mustn't resent a certain inquisitiveness on my part. It's only for your good."
"Go on, go on!"
"You went to London a few days ago, and executed a commission for Darcy."
"No—for Belle Fitzgerald."
"It's the same thing."
"I think not. There were some chests containing stereopticon slides, and Belle asked me to put them in a bank for her."
"The Victoria Street Branch of the Bank of England."
"Exactly."
"A good many slides, I imagine; rather heavy, weren't they?"
"Gad, I should think they were. It took two porters to lift each chest."
"I suppose you told the bank authorities what was in the chests?"
"No, I was told there was nothing to say. I was only to surrender them, and a sealed note, which would explain all."
"Did they give you a receipt for it?"
"Yes."
"Can anybody get the chests out?"
"No, only the person mentioned in the receipt."
"Have you still got the receipt?"
"Yes."
"Very good," said the Secretary. "I see your luck has not deserted you."
"And now," said Kingsland, "that I've answered all your questions, perhaps you'll tell me what you mean."
"This is what I mean," replied Stanley, handing him that first part of his Minister's letter which he had shown to Darcy.
The Lieutenant read it once, not understanding its purport; then again, his brow becoming wrinkled with anxiety; and yet again, with a very white face.
"What is it?" he gasped.
"It looks dangerously like treason, doesn't it?" returned the Secretary.
"But what is this bribe?"
"You ought to know that, as you carried it up to London, in sovereigns."
"What—how much was it?"
"Forty thousand pounds in gold."
"Good heavens!" said the Lieutenant, and mopped his brow. "But I didn't know anything about it!"
"That doesn't prevent you from having participated in one of the most rascally plots of your day and generation; from being a party in an attempt to overthrow, by the most open and shameless bribery, a treaty pending between the government you serve and mine."
"But, if this gets out, I'll be cashiered from the navy."
"Oh, I don't think they'd stop there," said the Secretary reassuringly. "Not with the proof of that receipt."
"Good Lord, I forgot that! Here, take it, will you?"
"Certainly. Suppose we open it and see if it proves my assertion," and, suiting the action to the word, he placed in the Lieutenant's shaking hands a receipt of deposit in the Victoria Street Branch of the Bank of England, by Miss Isabelle Fitzgerald, kindness of Lieutenant J. Kingsland, of forty thousand pounds.
"Can't you help me?" he asked.
"It rests entirely with me."
"Then you will?"
"Tell me all you know.
"But I don't know anything, except what I've told you. I give you my word as an officer and a gentleman, that I've been let into this affair in a most shameful manner, and that I'm entirely innocent, and ignorant of everything connected with it."
"I believe you, Lieutenant Kingsland."
"Not if you'll promise to drop this gang; they're a bad lot. Promise me you'll cut loose from them as soon as possible, for your wife's sake."
"I will," he said. "I will, old man. I can't thank you enough for what you've done."
"You've nothing to thank me for; I'm sure you are innocent, and so I don't consider the circumstantial evidence; but you might not be as lucky another time. I hope this will be a lesson to you. I need hardly caution you to silence," and he appeared to peruse some papers to ease the young officer's exit from the room.
That evening in the privacy of the library, the Lieutenant confided the news of his lucky escape to his wife, ending up with the question:
"Do you think the Fitzgerald really loves him?"
"My dear Jack," said Lady Isabelle, "a woman of that stamp does not know what love means, she's simply scheming to marry him for his money. How can people do such things?"
"I'm sure I don't know, my dear," replied her spouse, yawning. The subject was inopportune, and it bored him.