I saw with chagrin how utterly I had failed in my endeavour to elucidate the mystery, for not only had I been unable to throw any further light upon the theft of the treaty, or the tragic end of the man I suspected, but I had actually heaped increased suspicion upon myself. On reflection, I found myself in accord with the Minister’s declaration that the passport was a forgery, and that the brass stamp was not the seal used by the spy. These facts were absolutely incontestable. The only thing remaining was the paper whereon attempts had been made to imitate my writing. I tried to explain this fact away, and clear the memory of the dead man of all suspicion, but, alas! could not bring myself to believe in his innocence. There rankled in my breast the bitter thought that he had uttered words of love to Ella, and had tried to induce her to break off her engagement to me. She herself had acknowledged on oath before the Coroner that they had quarrelled because she loved me. No. Although this passport was a clumsy imitation, and the seal had been cut without due regard to the Warnham quarterings, the plain, incontestable evidence of his forgery remained.
He was, after all, a cunning, despicable scoundrel, who had brought dishonour upon my name and ruined me both socially and financially. I found myself smiling grimly at the thought of how quickly retribution had fallen upon him. If he had died from natural causes it was but a judgment for his misdeeds; if struck down by an unknown hand it was but vengeance for his treachery towards his Queen, his country, and his bosom friend.
Heedless of where I went I walked on, called at my club, I remember, and thrust my letters into my pocket unopened; then, pursuing my way, arrived home late in the afternoon. As I entered, Juckes handed me a note from Ella, telling me that they had left Staines owing to the tragic affair, and asking me to call that evening at Pont Street, adding that she wished to see me upon a very important matter. For a long time I sat alone, smoking and thinking, trying to devise some means by which I could bring the Earl to believe in my loyalty; but at last, in desperation, I rose, dressed, and took a cab to Mrs Laing’s.
The house was not large, but well ordered, exquisitely furnished, and there was about everything an air of elegant refinement that betokened wealth, taste and culture. It was nearly seven when I arrived, and I was gratified to learn that, with the exception of Beck, who came later, I was the only guest. Dinner was a much more stately meal at Pont Street than it had been at Staines, where very often we sat down in flannels, and I was not sorry when it was over, and I found myself free to talk alone with Ella. It was plain, from the dark rings about her eyes, that she had passed a sleepless night, and that her terrible and mysterious secret bore her down beneath its oppressive weight. Yet she had greeted me with the same joyous smile, the same hearty hand-shake as of old, and I had, while sitting at dinner chatting with her, felt myself wondering how I could ever have brought myself to utter such bitter reproaches and recriminations as I had done on the previous day. Her kiss, now that we were alone, thrilled me; her speech, soft and musical, held me enraptured by its charm.
She told me, in answer to my questions, how she had fared after I left “The Nook”; how dismal the place had appeared, and how many bitter memories it would always possess for her. Then, in response to her suggestion, we walked out upon the balcony, where, under the striped awning, a table and chairs were set. Here, in the cool night air, the quiet only broken by an occasional footfall or the tinkle of a passing cab-bell, we sipped our coffee and gossiped on as lovers will.
Suddenly, while she was telling me of the plans her mother had prepared for their sojourn for a couple of months at the seaside, the loud, strident cry of a running newsman broke upon our ears. At first, in the distance, the voice did not attract our attention, but when it neared us, the words, hoarse, yet indistinct, held me speechless. I sat stunned.
Ella herself sprang from her chair, and leaned over the balcony, straining her ears to catch every sound of the rough, coarse voice. The man had paused for breath before the house, a bundle of papers across his shoulder, and the ominous words he shouted were,—
“Extra spe-shall! Probable war against England! Spe-shall! War against England! Startling statement! Spe-shall!”