Mr. Marx's Secret

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

“I don’t think,” he went on, “that you can possibly imagine from the Mr. Ravenor of to-day what he was when he became the rage of London Society. He had just returned from his first journey in the East, after some perilous adventures, which had filled the columns of the newspapers for weeks and had already created a strong curiosity about him. I met him, I think, on the first evening he entered a London drawing-room, and I will never forget it.

“He was as handsome as a Greek god, with limbs magnificently developed by his hardy, vigorous life and rigid asceticism, with the head of a Byron, the manners of a Grandison, and the fire and eloquence of a Burke, when he chose to open his mouth.

“Men and women alike were fascinated, which was all the more remarkable as he sought no intimate amongst the former, and studiously avoided compromising himself with any of the latter, although, Heaven knows, he had no lack of opportunity. The only man with whom he seemed to be on at all friendly terms was de Cartienne; and the only woman to whom he paid any save the most ordinary attention was your mother.”

Lord Langerdale paused for several moments and seemed wrapped in a brown study, from which my impatience aroused him. He continued at once:

“Things went on smoothly for a time, and then rumours began to get about. At first there were only faint whispers, but presently people began to talk openly. Count de Cartienne had better beware, they said, or he would lose his bride. At first he treated all such suggestions with contempt, but the time came when he was forced to consider them seriously.

“Mr. Ravenor published a small volume of poems anonymously, amongst which were some passionate love-sonnets addressed to A. M. Everyone was talking of the book and wondering who the new poet was, when, through some treachery in the publisher’s office, the secret leaked out, and everyone then knew that those thrilling love-songs were addressed to Alice Montavon.

“de Cartienne went straight to Mr. Ravenor and demanded an explanation. Mr. Ravenor acknowledged the authorship of the poems, and did not deny that the verses in question were addressed to your mother; further than that he would not say a word, and simply referred de Cartienne to her.

“He went straight to her, poor fellow! and was met with a piteous entreaty that he would release her from her engagement. She loved Mr. Ravenor and could marry no one else. What followed remains to some extent a secret; but this much we know:

“There was a furious scene between de Cartienne and your mother, which ended in his refusing to give her up and threatening to shoot his rival if ever he saw them together again. Sir Arthur Montavon, who was deeply in de Cartienne’s debt, swore that the marriage should take place, and apparently they gained their end, for Mr. Ravenor suddenly disappeared, and it was reported that he had left the country. On the very day before the wedding, however, Society was furnished with a still more sensational piece of scandal; your mother left her home secretly and the companion of her flight was Mr. Ravenor!”

I could sit still no longer, but rose and walked up and down the room with quick, unsteady strides. Lord Langerdale watched me with a great and growing pity in his honest face. There was silence between us for several minutes, during which, after one keen, restless look of inquiry, I kept my face turned away from his. Then he continued his story in a somewhat lower key: