"It is a very big thing," Gaby began. "Rosemary did not want me to tell. She offered me bribes. I refused, because I would not bind myself. Yet there is a favour you could do for me—for us—Major Murray. If you would promise—I could not resist giving up Rosemary's secret."
Ralston's face had hardened. I saw his dislike of her and what she suggested. But he could not afford to refuse, and perhaps lose all chance of finding his wife.
"Will what you have to tell help me to get Rosemary back?" he asked.
"Yes—if after you have heard you still want her back," Gaby hedged. "I can tell you where she is likely to be."
"Nothing on God's earth you could tell would make me not want her back!" he cried. "What is this favour you speak of?"
"It is only that I ask you to take my husband as your doctor. Oh, do not think it is from Paul I come! He does not know Rosemary's secret, or that I make a price for this. If you do this—and why not, since Paul is a good doctor, and you have now finished with others?—I will tell you all I know about your wife."
As she went on I was thinking fast. Poor Rosemary! I was sure that Gaby had tried to work upon her fears—had promised secrecy if Mrs. Murray would get Doctor Jennings taken on as Ralston's physician. At first Rosemary had been inclined to yield. That must have been at the time when she wired to stop Sir Beverley's visit, if not too late. Then we had appeared on the scene, saying that it was too late, and urging that Sir Beverley might offer Ralston a chance of life. At this Rosemary's love for her husband had triumphed over fears for her own sake. She had realized that by keeping Sir Beverley away she might be standing between her husband and life itself. If there were a ray of hope for him, she determined to help, not hinder, no matter what the cost.
Once she had refused Mrs. Jennings' request, she had been at the woman's mercy; but Gaby had waited, expecting the thing that had happened to-day, and seeing that her best chance for the future lay with Murray. As for Jennings, it might be true that he wasn't in the plot; but if my theory concerning the portraits were correct, he certainly was in it, and had at least partially planned the whole scheme.
I was so afraid Ralston might accept the bargain without stopping to think, that I spoke without giving him time to open his lips. "Before you decide to take Paul Jennings as your doctor, send for an expert to look through your collection of portraits!"
"What have the portraits to do with Doctor Jennings?" asked Ralston, astonished.