One who has been in strange lands, and ventured his life in far countries, is by no means anxious to court again the dangers he has so happily escaped. The traveller, telling his tales by his lately gained fireside, shudders as he remembers the perils he has dared, the risks he has encountered, and is thankful for his present safety, so thankful indeed that he is unwilling to place his life for the second time at the disposal of chance.
It was somewhat after this fashion that Mrs. Belswin viewed her present security in contrast to her past jeopardy. She had been a free-lance, and adventuress, an unprotected woman at the mercy of the world, so hard and pitiless to such unfortunates; but now she had found a home, a refuge, a daughter's love, a bright oasis in the desert of affliction, and she dreaded to be driven out of this peaceful paradise, which held all that made her life worth having, into a stormy world once more. Through perils more deadly than those of savage lands, through storms more terrible than those of the ocean, she had passed into a haven of tranquillity; but now that she was tasting of the pleasures of hope and repose, it seemed as though she would once more be driven forth to battle with her fellow-creatures.
Her quondam husband held her fate in his hand. He had right and might on his side, and she knew that she could expect no mercy from one whom she had so deeply wronged. Had the positions been reversed she felt that she would not have scrupled to enforce the powers she possessed, and, therefore, never for a moment dreamed that her husband would act otherwise. All she knew was that she was now in Paradise, that she enjoyed her daughter's affection, ignorant as that daughter was of the mother's identity, and that the husband of her youth, and the father of her dearly-loved child would expel her from this hardly won Paradise as soon as he discovered her therein.
This being the case, she did not waste time in asking for a mercy not likely to be granted, but set herself to work to find out some means of retaining her position in defiance of her husband's enmity and hatred. After her conversation with Mrs. Valpy, she saw that Rupert Pethram had glossed over the affair of the divorce in order to avoid all suspicion of scandal against himself and the mother of his child, for he was unwilling that the child should suffer for the sin of her parent. This was certainly a point in her favour, as by threatening to denounce the whole affair if she was not allowed to retain her position she could force him to acquiesce in her demand, in order to avoid scandal.
But then if he, though keeping the terrible affair secret from the outside world, told Kaituna all about her mother's disgrace, thus destroying the love which the girl had for the memory of one whom she thought was dead--it would be too terrible, as she could urge nothing in extenuation of her sin, and would be forced to blush before her own child. No, nothing could be done in that way. Should she throw herself on the mercy of the man she had wronged? Alas! she knew his stern nature well enough to be aware of the hopeless folly of such an attempt. Looking at the whole affair in whatever way that suggested itself to her fertile brain, she saw no means of retaining her position, her child or her newly-found respectability, except by enlisting the sympathy of Ferrari and----
But it was too terrible. It was a crime. Guilty as she was, to do this would render her still more guilty. Even if she succeeded in getting her husband out of the way, and it was not discovered by the law, there was still Ferrari to be reckoned with. It would give him a strong hold over her, which he would use to force her into marriage, and then she would be still separated from her child, so that the crime she contemplated would be useless.
To see this woman raging up and down her bedroom was a pitiful sight. Flinging herself on her knees she would pray to God to soften the heart of her husband, then, realising how futile was the hope, she would start to her feet and think again of the crime she contemplated committing with the assistance of her Italian lover. She raged, she wept, she sighed, she implored. Her mood changed with every tick of the clock; from hope she fell into despair; from despair she changed once more to hope--tears imprecations, prayers, threats, she tried them all in their turn, and the result was always the same--absolute failure. She was dashing herself in vain against an adamantine wall, for in her calmer moments she saw how helpless she was against the position held by her husband--a position approved of by law, approved of by the world. She could do nothing, and she knew it.
Still, Ferrari!
Yes, she would go up and see him, for perhaps he could solve the riddle which thus perplexed her so terribly. He would demand his price, she knew him well enough for that. Well, she would pay it in order to still retain possession of her child. Let her accomplish her present desire and the future would take care of itself. So, Mrs. Belswin, summoning all her philosophy to her aid, composed her features, and told Kaituna that she was going up to London on business.
"But papa will be here next week," said the girl in dismay.