How did he, Geoffrey Herriard, stand in the matter? What part was he to play? What was his course, for Alexia’s sake, to be? At present his position was clear. He stood between Gastineau and the object of his desire. At which of them would that subtle, resolute, relentless spirit strike first; at him or her? That could with no certainty be forecasted; Gastineau’s mind did not move in men’s common grooves of thought and action. He knew that well enough, and that the essence of his quondam tutor’s aggressive tactics was surprise. To know when to hit and where to hit had been his rule; he was wont to strike quickly and from the least expected side. It seemed pretty certain, so far as anything could be foreseen, that he would strike at Alexia. Altogether, the problem seemed so complex that Herriard was convinced that its ultimate solution must lie in its own developments. He was dealing with an abnormal character, and all he could do was to keep warily on his guard. Whichever way he looked at the situation his position was hateful; but it was one from which, for Alexia’s sake, he could not flinch.
So, after a perturbed pacing of one of the Park’s outer walks, he turned his steps towards his rooms in Mount Street. Abandoning the riddle of the future, his thoughts rested on the past. Now he understood why on two chance occasions Gastineau had been denied to him. He had been at the moment probably undergoing secret treatment at the hands of Dr. Hallamar. And the thousand pounds of which Gastineau had suddenly found himself in need: that sum was surely to make up the great surgeon’s fee. Now it was plain why Gastineau had himself insisted on writing what had purported to be a note of invitation to Dr. Hallamar to see him, and had sent it off without giving Herriard a sight of it. In effect it must have been an injunction to the Doctor not to divulge even to his patient’s friend that the cure was already effected. Yes; one after another, little incidents occurred to Herriard, who, having now the key of the puzzle, fitted them in convincingly. And so the night passed.
Next day he snatched an hour between the rising of the Courts and a consultation to go to Green Street.
“And I expected you every hour yesterday,” Alexia said reproachfully.
“You had my note?” he replied. “Had I known I was to be kept all day it should have been sent earlier. But I expected, as you did, that every hour would bring me here.”
“Were you really so busy?” she asked, still unsatisfied. “From early morning, till late at night?”
“Really, on my honour, dearest; busy and worried.”
“Ah, worried?” she repeated almost wistfully. “Does a man ever have worries that can be shared?”
He shook his head with a smile. “Business worries. How can a woman share them? Yet every day must bring them if a man is conscientious in his work.”
“Ah, yes; I understand.” She laid her hand caressingly on his arm. “I shall always be proud of you and of your work, Geoffrey. I can guess how you must have worried for me.”