Chapter Fifty Six.
Hard Test.
“Harry, dear Harry!” said Louise, as they stood together in a shabbily furnished room in one of the streets off Tottenham Court Road, “I feel at times as if it would drive me mad. Pray, pray let me write!”
“Not yet, I tell you; not yet,” he said angrily. “Wait till we are across the Channel, and then you shall.”
“But—”
“Louy!” he half shouted at her, “have some patience.”
“Patience, dear? Think of our father’s agony of mind. He loves us.”
“Then the joy of finding we are both alive and well must compensate for what he suffers now.”
“But you do not realise what must be thought of me.”
“Oh, yes, I do,” he said bitterly; “but you do not realise what would be thought of me, if it were known that I was alive. I shiver every time I meet a policeman. Can’t you see how I am placed?”
“Yes—yes,” said Louise wearily; “but at times I can only think of our father—of Madelaine—of Uncle Luke.”
“Hush?” he cried with an irritable stamp of the foot. “Have patience. Once we are on the Continent I shall feel as if I could breathe; but this wretched dilatory way of getting money worries me to death.”
“Then why not sell the jewels, and let us go?”
“That’s talking like a woman again. It’s very easy to talk about selling the jewels, and it is easy to sell them if you go to some blackguard who will take advantage of your needs, and give you next to nothing for them. But, as Pradelle says—”
“Pradelle!” ejaculated Louise, with a look of dislike crossing her face.
“Yes, Pradelle. That’s right, speak ill of the only friend we have. Why, we owe everything to him. What could we have done? Where could we have gone if it had not been for him, and my finding out where he was through asking at the old meeting-place?”
“I do not like Mr Pradelle,” said Louise firmly. “Then you ought to,” said Harry, as he walked up and down the room like some caged animal. “As he says, if you go to sell the things at a respectable place they’ll ask all manner of questions that it is not convenient to answer, and we must not risk detection by doing that.”
“Risk detection?” said Louise, clasping her hands about one knee as she gazed straight before her.
“The people here are as suspicious of us as can be, and the landlady seems ready to ask questions every time we meet on the stairs.”
“Yes,” said Louise in a sad, weary way; “she is always asking questions.”
“But you do not answer them?”
“I—I hardly know what I have said, Harry. She is so pertinacious.”
“We must leave here,” said the young man excitedly. “Why don’t Pradelle come?”
“Do you expect him to-night?”
“Expect him? Yes. I have only half-a-crown left, and he has your gold chain to pledge, he is to bring the money to-night. I expected him before.”
“Harry, dear.”
“Well?”
“Do you think Mr Pradelle is trustworthy?”
“As trustworthy as most people,” said the young man carelessly. “Yes, of course. He is obliged to be.”
“But could you not pledge the things yourself instead of trusting him?”
“No,” he cried, with an impatient stamp. “You know how I tried, and how the assistant began to question and stare at me, till I snatched the thing out of his hands and hurried out of the shop. I’d sooner beg than try to do it again.”
Louise was silent for a few moments, and sat gazing thoughtfully before her.
“Let me write, Harry, telling everything, and asking my father to send us money.”
“Send for the police at once. There, open the windows, and call the first one up that you see pass. It will be the shortest way.”
“But I am sure, dear—”
“Once more, so am I. At the present moment I am free. Let me have my liberty to begin life over again honestly, repentantly, and with the earnest desire to redeem the past. Will you let me have that?”
“Of course—of course, dear.”
“Then say no more to me about communicating with home.”
Louise was silent gain, beaten once more by her brother’s arguments in her desire to see him redeem the past.
“Harry,” she said at last, after her brother had been standing with his cheek pressed against the window pane, looking down the street in search of the expected visitor.
“Well?”
“Has it ever occurred to you that Mr Pradelle is trying to keep us here?”
“Absurd!”
“No; I feel sure it is so, and that he does not want us to go away. Let me take my bracelets and necklet to one of those places where they buy jewellery or lend money.”
“You?”
“Yes. Why not?”
“Are you mad?”
“No. Why should I not sell what is my own?”
“Can you not understand?” cried Harry, whose voice sounded harsh from the mental irritation which had given him the look of one in constant dread of arrest.
“No, dear, I cannot. I want to help you. I want to get away from here—to remove you from the influence of this man, so that we may, if it must be so, get abroad and then set them at rest.”
“Now you are bringing that up again,” he cried angrily.
“I must, Harry, I must. I have been too weak as it is; but in the excitement of all that trouble I seemed to be influenced by you in all I did.”
“There, there, little sis,” he said more gently. “I ought not to speak so crossly, but I am always on thorns, held back as I am for want of a few paltry pounds.”
“Then let me go and dispose of these things.”
“It is impossible.”
“No, dear, you think of the degradation I should not be ashamed. We have made a false step, Harry, but if we must go on, let me do what I can to help you. Let me go.”
“But the beggarly disgrace. You don’t know what you are going to undertake.”
She looked at him with her frank, clear eyes.
“I am going to help you. There can be no disgrace in disposing of these trinkets for you to escape.”
“Ah! at last!” cried Harry, leaving the window to hurry to the door, regardless of the look of dislike which came into his sister’s face.
“Is that Mr Pradelle?” she said shrinkingly.
“Yes, at last. No, Louy, I’m bad enough, but I’m not going to send you to the pawnbroker’s while I stop hiding here, and it’s all right now.”
“Ah, Harry! Day, Miss Louy,” said Pradelle, entering, very fashionably dressed, and with a rose in his buttonhole. “Nice weather, isn’t it?”
“Look here, Vic,” cried Harry, catching him by the arm. “How much did you get?”
“Get?”
“Yes; for the chain?”
“Oh, for the chain,” said Pradelle, who kept his eyes fixed on Louise. “Nothing, old fellow.”
“Nothing?”
“Haven’t taken it to the right place, yet.”
“And you promised to. Look here, what do you mean?”
“What do I mean? Well, I like that. Hear him, Miss Louy? What a fellow he is! Here have I got him into decent apartments, where he is safe as the bank, when if he had depended upon himself he would have taken you to some slum where you would have been stopped and the police have found you out.”
“You promised to pledge those things for me.”
“Of course I did, and so I will. Why, if you had been left to yourself, who would have taken you in without a reference?”
“Never mind that,” said Harry, so angrily that Louise rose, went to his side, and laid her hand upon his arm. “If you don’t want to help me, say so.”
“If I don’t want to help you! Why, look here, Miss Louy, I appeal to you. Haven’t I helped him again and again? Haven’t I lent him money, and acted as a friend should?”
“Why haven’t you pledged that chain?” said Harry.
“Because people are so suspicious, and I was afraid. There you have the truth.”
“I don’t believe it,” cried Harry, excitedly.
“Well then, don’t. Your sister will. If you want me to bring the police on your track, say so.”
In a furtive way, he noted Harry’s start of dread, and went on.
“Take the chain or a watch yourself, and if the pawnbroker is suspicious, he’ll either detain it till you can give a good account of how you came by it, or send for a policeman to follow you to you lodgings.”
“But I am quite penniless!” cried Harry.
“Then why didn’t you say so, old fellow? Long as I’ve got a pound you’re welcome to it, and always were. I’m not a fine-weather friend, you know that. There you are, two halves. That’ll keep you going for a week.”
“But I don’t want to keep borrowing of you,” said Harry. “We have enough to do what I want. A sovereign will do little more than pay for these lodgings.”
“Enough for a day or two, old fellow, and do, for goodness’ sake, have a little more faith in a man you have proved.”
“I have faith in you, Vic, and I’m very grateful; but this existence maddens me. I want enough to get us across the Channel. I must and will go.”
“Right into the arms of those who are searching for you. What a baby you are, Harry! Do you want to be told again that every boat which starts for the Continent will be watched?”
Harry made a despairing gesture, and his haggard countenance told plainly of the agony he suffered.
“My dear Miss Louy,” continued Pradelle, “do pray help me to bring him to reason. You must see that you are both safe here, and that it is the wisest thing to wait patiently till the worst of the pursuit is over.”
“We do not know that there is any pursuit, Mr Pradelle,” said Louise coldly.
“Come, I like that!” cried Pradelle, in an ill-used tone. “I thought I told you that they were searching for you both. If you like to believe that you can leave your home as you did without your people making any search, why you have a right to.”
Harry began pacing the room, while Pradelle went on in a low, pleading way.
“Ever since Harry came to me, I thought I had done all that a friend could, but if I can do more, Miss Louy, you’ve only got to tell me what, and it shall be done.”
“You’ve done your best, Prad,” said Harry.
“Yes, but you don’t think it. I could go and do all kinds of rash things; but I’ve been working to throw them off the scent, and I don’t think, so far, I’ve done amiss. You’re not taken yet.”
Harry drew a long breath and glanced at door and window, as if for a way of escape.
“Come, that’s better,” cried Pradelle. “Take a more cheerful view of things. You want change, Harry. You’ve been shut up too much. Have a cigar,” he continued, drawing out his case. “No? I beg your pardon, Miss Louy. Oughtn’t to ask him to smoke here.”
Harry shook his head impatiently.
“Yes; have one, old fellow. They’re good. Take two or three; and, look here; go and have a walk up and down for an hour. It’s getting dusk now.”
Louise gave her brother an excited look, which did not escape Pradelle. “Let’s all go,” he said. “We might go along the back streets as far as the park. Do you both good.”
“No, no,” said Harry sharply. “I shall not go out.”
“Go together, then,” said Pradelle, half mockingly. “I don’t want to intrude; but for goodness’ sake, man, try and have a little change; it would make life move different, and you’d be more ready to take a friend’s advice.”
“What advice?”
“To settle down here. London’s the best place in the world for hiding yourself.”
“Don’t talk to me any more, old fellow,” said Harry. “I’m out of temper. I can’t help it.”
“All right, lad. I’ll go now; and you get him out, Miss Louy, do. It’s the best thing for him.”
Harry made an impatient gesture, and threw himself in a chair.
“You shall do as you like, and I’ll raise all the money for you that I can,” said Pradelle, rising to go; “but take things more coolly. Good-bye, old boy.”
“Good-bye,” said Harry, shaking hands limply.
“Good-bye,” said Pradelle, as Harry turned away to rest his aching head upon his hand.
“Miss Louy!”
He gave his head a jerk towards the door, and Louise rose and followed him.
“Come outside,” he whispered. “I want to speak to you.”
“Mr Pradelle can say what he has to say here.”
“But it’s about him.”
“Well, Mr Pradelle?”
“Well, Miss Louy, I only wanted to say that some day you’ll find out who is your true friend. I want to help you both. I do, on my honour.”
“Your honour!” thought Louise.
“Have a little more confidence in a man if you can. I do want to help you. Good-bye.”
He held out his hand, and she felt constrained to give him hers, which he held, and, after glancing hastily at Harry, raised to his lips; but the kiss he imprinted was on the yielding air, for the hand was snatched indignantly away.
“You’ll know me better by-and-by,” said Pradelle; and giving her a peculiar look, he left the room.
Louise stood for a few minutes gazing after him, her brow knit and her eyes thoughtful. Then, going back to where her brother sat with his head resting upon his hand, she laid hers upon his shoulder.
“Harry, dear,” she said firmly, “that man is fighting against us.”
“Rubbish,” he cried impatiently. “You never liked Pradelle.”
“Better for you if you had hated him. Harry, he is striving to keep us here.”
“Nonsense! Don’t talk to me now.”
“I must, Harry. You must act, and decisively.”
“What do you mean?”
“Either you must raise money at once, and go right from here—”
He looked up sharply.
“No, I do not mean that,” she said sadly. “I will not leave you till you are fit to leave; but you must either act as I advise at once, or I shall do what I think best.”
“What do you mean?”
“Write to our father to come and help us, for you are too weak and broken down to protect me.”
“Louy!” he cried excitedly; “I am not so weak as you think. I will act; I will take your advice.”
“And get rid of this Mr Pradelle?”
“Anything you like, Louy, only don’t let them know at home—yet, and don’t leave me. If you did I should break down at once.”
“Then will you be guided by me?”
“Yes.”
“And take these jewels yourself and raise money?”
“Yes; but it is too late now.”
Louise glanced at the window, and in her ignorance of such matters half felt the truth of his words.
“Then to-morrow you will do as I wish?”
“Yes, to-morrow,” he said wearily.
“Put not off until to-morrow—” said Louise softly to herself; and she stood watching her brother as he sat with bended head, weak, broken, and despairing, in the gathering gloom.