Chapter Thirty One.
Due East.
“Bah!” retorted the Earl’s visitor, contemptuously, shaking himself free with a sudden twist, and standing before me in defiance. “I understand,” he cried, glancing towards the elder man before the door. “You believe, gentlemen, that from me you can ascertain a key to certain curious occurrences that have puzzled you. But I may as well undeceive you at once. I can tell you absolutely nothing.”
“But you shall tell us!” I cried, angrily. “I found you walking with my wife in Kensington Gardens, and followed you. It was apparent from her demeanour that she feared you.”
He smiled sarcastically, and answered with a flippant air:
“Perhaps she did. If so, she certainly had cause.”
“Why? What power do you hold over her, pray?” I demanded.
In his eyes was a mysterious glance. He was scarcely the brainless young dandy that I had imagined.
“It is hardly likely that I shall divulge to you a secret. Remember that your wife comes of one of the highest families in Europe, and the slightest breath of scandal must reflect upon them.”
“At what scandal do you hint?” I asked, in fierce, breathless eagerness.