CHAPTER XXXVII
A TURN OF THE WHEEL
Audley was suspicious and ill at ease. Standing on the hearth-rug with his back to the fire, he fixed the visitor with his eyes, and with secret anxiety asked himself what he wanted. The possibility that Basset came to champion Mary had crossed his mind more than once; if that were so he would soon dispose of him! In the meantime he took civility for his cue, exchanged an easy word or two about the poll and the election, and between times nodded to Stubbs to be seated. Through all, his eyes were watchful and he missed nothing.
“I asked Mr. Stubbs to be here,” he said when a minute or two had been spent in this by-play, “as you spoke of business. You don’t object?”
“Not at all,” Basset replied. His face was grave. “I should tell you at once, Audley,” he added, “that my mission is not a pleasant one.”
The other raised his eyebrows. “You are sure that it concerns me?”
“It certainly concerns you. Though, as things stand, not very materially. I knew nothing of the matter myself until three o’clock to-day, and at first I doubted if it was my duty to communicate it. But the facts are known to a third person, they may be used to annoy you in the future, and though the task is unpleasant, I decided that I had no option.”
Audley set his broad shoulders against the mantel-shelf. “But if the facts don’t affect me?” he said.
“In a way they do. Not as they might under other circumstances. That is all.”
“And yet you are making our hair stand on end! I confess you puzzle me. Well, let us have it. What is it all about?”
“A little time ago you recovered, if you remember, your Family Bible.” “Well? What of that?”