Did he look like an undetected murderer? Did he look like a man tormented by remorse, weighed down with the burden of a guilty secret? Assuredly not. He had the straight outlook of one whose conscience is clear, whose heart is free from guile. If he were verily guilty, he must be the prince of hypocrites.
His wife was at his side, and George Gerard looked at her with painful interest. What a lovely, trustful face, radiant with innocence and contentment! And was this guileless creature to be made wretched by the knowledge of her husband’s deceit? Was her heart to be broken in order that John Treverton should be punished?
Edward Clare had said that it was for her sake he wanted to know the truth about her husband, it was that she might be rescued from a degrading alliance, protected from a man who was at heart a villain.
George Gerard watched the husband and wife at intervals during the service. He could see nothing but placid content, a mind at ease, in the face of John Treverton. The idea of this freedom from care on the part of him who had been La Chicot’s husband embittered Gerard.
‘Had that woman been my wife I should have been sorry for her cruel fate; I should have mourned for her honestly, in spite of her degradation. But had she been my wife, she would never have sunk so low. I would have made it the business of my life to have saved her.’
Thus argued the man who had passionately loved the beautiful, soulless woman, and who had never comprehended the emptiness of her mind and heart.
Once in the progress of the service John Treverton looked across the aisle, and saw the stern gray eyes watching him. In that one glance Gerard saw that he was recognised.
‘What will he do if we meet presently?’ Gerard asked himself. ‘He’ll cut me dead, no doubt.’
They did meet, for in leaving the church porch Laura stopped to talk to Mrs. Clare and Celia. Edward and his friend were close behind.
‘Is it the man?’ Edward asked, in a whisper.