The Woman's Way Page 4

  CHAPTER IV

  The young man whose life Celia had saved crossed the courtyard of thebuilding, and walked quickly into Victoria Street. Though he was afugitive, there was nothing furtive in his gait, and he looked straightbefore him with a preoccupied air. As a matter of fact, he was notthinking at that moment of his own escape, but of the face which hadlooked down on him over the rail of the corridor. If Celia had beenmoved by the expression in his eyes, as he looked up at her, he wasstill more impressed by the tender, womanly pity in hers; and he was solost in the thought of all that she had done for him, of her courage andcompassion, that there was no room in his mind for any anxiety on hisown account.

  But presently the sight of a policeman recalled Derrick Dene to theperil of the situation. He fingered the five-pound note in his pocketand stood at the corner of a street hesitating; then, with a littlegesture of determination, he walked on again quickly in the direction ofSloane Square, reached it, and turning into one of the streets leadingfrom it he entered one of the tall buildings of expensive flats.Declining the porter's offer of the lift, he went quickly up the stairs,which, unlike those of Brown's Buildings, were carpeted and well-lit,and rang the bell of a flat on the second floor.

  "Lord Heyton in?" he inquired of the servant. "Yes, I know he is," headded quickly, as he caught the scent of a cigarette. "Is he alone? Allright, don't trouble to announce me." He walked quickly across thepassage, entered a room and, closing the door behind him, turned the keyin the lock.

  A young man was sprawling in a low chair before the fire. He was agood-looking young man, very fair, with rather thin hair, parted in themiddle; his eyes were blue and somewhat prominent, his mouth weak andsensual; he was in evening-dress, and presented a definite type of theyoung man about town.

  As he turned his head at the click of the lock and saw his visitor, hisface flushed hotly, his under-lip drooped, his eyes opened widely, andhe clutched at the arms of the chair. Fear was written all over him inlarge letters. There was silence for a moment or two; then, with a catchof his breath, he rose and involuntarily muttered the other man's name.He also held out his hand; but Dene, ignoring it, seated himself on thetable and, pointing to the chair, said, curtly, but without anger:

  "Sit down, Heyton. Sit down. Yes; I've come. You didn't expect to seeme. You thought you had got rid of me? Well, I'm going right enough; butI wanted a word or two with you first."

  Lord Heyton dropped back into the chair and, covertly wiping the sweatfrom his face, which was white now, glanced from Dene to the fire, thenback again; but his eyes could get no higher than Dene's waistcoat.

  "I--I suppose you've come to kick up a row, to bully me?" he said,sullenly.

  "Not at all," retorted Dene, coolly. "If I had wanted to kick up a row,to bully you--in other words, to round on you and show you up, I shouldhave come before, the moment I knew how you had--sold me. Yes, that'sthe word; sold me."

  "I--I was hard driven," said Heyton, almost inaudibly. "I tell you that,if I hadn't been able to put my hand on the money, I should have beenruined. A man in my position can't stand being declared a defaulter.I--I thought it would be all right; that my father would have stumpedup; but he left England for some beastly place abroad; where, I don'tknow even know, and there was no getting at him. And there wasn't apenny to be got out of those cursed lawyers----"

  "Oh, you needn't trouble to explain," said Dene, grimly. "I understandit all--Miriam has been to see me."

  The young man in the chair started, his face flushed, and he lookedsavagely, yet fearfully, at Dene.

  "Miriam been to see you!" he repeated, huskily. "Why--what----!"

  "When you told her that I was a forger, that I'd passed a false cheque,you didn't think that she would go to me. You thought she would acceptyour statement, as she has accepted your other lies about me, and justdrop me. Oh, yes; I know how you managed to get her away from me. Poorgirl! Unawares she let out a great deal in the few minutes she was withme to-day. You blackened my character pretty considerably; and, byGeorge! you must have done it very well, or you would not have got herto believe you. I've met some bad 'uns in my time, Heyton; but, upon myword, I think you're the very worst of the lot. You're black rotten,through and through. And yet you've got a decent girl not only tobelieve in you, but to marry you--a liar, a coward, and a scoundrel."

  The other man rose, his hands clenched. Dene jerked his head towards thechair.

  "Sit down," he said, as he sought in his pockets for a cigarette, foundit, and began to smoke. "I'm glad to see that I've touched you on theraw. I didn't think there was a tender spot on you. Oh, sit down, man,and put your fists in your pockets; you haven't the pluck to strike me.I wish you had"--his eyes flashed ominously--"for I might be tempted togive you the thrashing you deserve and I'm longing to give you. Andyet--no, I shouldn't; for I wouldn't defile my hands by touching you."

  There was a pause, then, with a gesture, as if he had mastered himself,Dene went on:

  "Well, I have bullied you, after all, haven't I? And, upon my soul, Ididn't mean to; for I knew it would be only waste of breath. Nothing canreally touch you; and you'll forget every nasty thing I've said as soonas you've got rid of me safely. No; what I came to say was this: I'm notgoing to show you up. I'm going to take this thing upon me; you know whywell enough."

  Heyton shot a glance at him, a glance full of hate and jealousy.

  "Yes, it's for Miriam's sake," said Dene, quietly, without any sign ofemotion. "She and I were pals; nothing had ever come between us untilyou turned up. She would have married me but for you. Oh, I'm notblaming her; poor girl, there's a weak streak in her; she comes of a badlot. Of course, the Earl of Heyton, the son of a marquess, was a bettermatch than Derrick Dene, a nobody, with his fortune to make, his bareliving to get; but, on my soul, I think she would have stood by me, andwould have resisted the temptation, if you had not told lies about meand persuaded her that I was an utter blackguard. And, by the way, youdid it rather well. I was quite astonished how she let things out justnow when she came to me. You did it very well. And I thought you were anutter fool!"

  The other man glanced wickedly under his brows and set his teeth, but hesaid nothing; he was afraid to utter a word lest he should rouse hisvictim from his state of calm and quiet.

  "It was clever of you to saddle poor little Susie Morton's trouble onme, while you were really the man--the scoundrel, I should say; it wasclever of you to rake up all my little sky-larkings and turn them intosomething worse. Well, they say that 'all is fair in love and war.' Youwon, you took her away from me--and it's about Miriam that I've come totalk to you."

  Heyton moistened his lips and, with his eyes fixed on his patent leatherboots, he said, thickly:

  "Did you tell her that--the truth?"

  Dene laughed shortly. "No; I didn't. Nine men out of ten would think Iwas a fool for not doing so; certainly you would. But most men wouldn'tunderstand, and most assuredly you wouldn't, why I didn't. No; I didn'ttell her that I was innocent and that you were guilty; that you hadforged a cheque and got me, like a fool, to present it. I didn't eventell her that it was you, you blackguard, who had ruined poor littleSusie. You look surprised."

  Heyton swiftly withdrew his eyes, in which astonishment, amazement, andsomething nearly approaching contempt, had shown, and Dene laughed withbitter scorn.

  "You can't understand that a man who has once loved a woman loves herfor always----"

  He paused; for, at that moment, it was not the face of his old love, thewoman who had jilted him for a better match, that rose before him, butthat of the girl at Brown's Buildings who had stepped in between him anddeath, talked him back to reason, given him her last five-pound note.

  "--And that even if he has ceased to love her, he'll stand a lot to saveher from trouble; that he'll make any kind of sacrifice to keep disgraceand shame from her. That's how I feel towards Miriam. I thought of youbeing dragged off by a couple of bobbies to quod, and of how she wouldsuffer; and I remembered--which was a preci
ous lucky thing for you--thatthere was no one to suffer on my account. I thanked God--for the firsttime--I'd no one belonging to me. That thought made it easier for me todo what I am doing."

  He tossed the end of the cigarette into the fire.

  "I am going to make a bolt for it; and I looked in just to say a fewwords to you, Heyton. I'm standing between you and a complete bust-up.I'm doing it for Miriam's sake, not yours; and I want you to bear thisin mind: that if ever I hear of your treating her badly--oh, you needn'tlook so virtuously indignant; I know your sort; you'd treat her badlyenough presently, if you hadn't a check on you. And I'm going to be thatcheck. Let me hear even a whisper of your acting on the cross with her,and I'll come back, if it's from the other end of the world, to denounceyou. I've proofs enough. Oh, I'm not such a fool as you think; and, ifyou don't treat Miriam fairly, I'll show you up, and probably give you,into the bargain, the thrashing that's owing to you."

  "You needn't talk about Miriam like that," said her husband, sullenly,and with an affectation of righteous resentment. "I'm fond of her; Ishouldn't have done--well, what I have done, if I hadn't been. Youneedn't insult me."

  "My good man, I couldn't," said Dene. "One word more and, you'll berelieved to hear, I'm off. For some reason or other the police, thedetectives, have been slow, or have failed to track me."

  As he spoke, Heyton turned his head and looked at him curiously, with afurtive, cunning expression; but he said nothing; indeed, his lipsclosed tightly, as if in repression of speech.

  "I shall leave England to-night," continued Dene; "and I may succeed ingiving them the slip. I know one or two out-of-the-way places--but Ineedn't trouble you with my plans. All I want to say is that if I'mcaught I shall continue to hold my tongue. And you hold yours, as muchas you can; for, though you think you're pretty clever, you'd make asilly kind of ass in a witness-box."

  He got off the table, buttoned his coat, and took up his cap. The otherman rose and stood, fidgeting with a silver cigarette-box on the tableand looking from Dene's pale, haggard face to the floor.

  "You're--you're behaving like a brick--you're doing me a good turn,Dene----" he muttered, hoarsely.

  "Oh, for God's sake, don't do that!" broke in Dene, with contemptuousimpatience. "Clear your mind of that idea. I'm playing the giddy-goatnot for your sake, my man; but--but for your wife's, for Miriam's."

  "You're crossing to-night?" asked Heyton, hesitatingly, fearfully. "Ifthere's anything I can do to--to prove my gratitude----"

  "You couldn't prove what doesn't exist," said Dene, with a laugh."You're incapable of gratitude. You hate me like poison, and, if itwasn't for the risk to yourself, you'd like to throw up that window,call for the police, and give me away." He paused a moment, and lookedthe bent, cowardly figure up and down, from toe to crown. "You don'tmean to say that you were going to offer me money? Not really?" Helaughed, and at the laugh Heyton's face crimsoned with shame and rage."That would be too funny. I'm off. Remember what I've said. Treat Miriamwell, and you've seen and heard the last of me; let me hear a word--ButI've told you that already; and you're not likely to forget it. A cowardlike you will think of his skin before anything else."

  Heyton's teeth closed on his under-lip and he glanced at the window;Dene saw the glance and understood it; with a gesture of infinite scornhe sauntered slowly to the door, Heyton following him with clenchedhands, the veins swelling in his forehead, his face livid.

  As the door closed behind Dene, Heyton sprang towards the bell; hisfinger touched it, but he did not press it, and, with an oath, he sankinto his chair and mopped his face.

  Five minutes later, the woman whom Celia had seen in the corridorentered the room. She was a pretty, graceful woman, little more than agirl; but the beauty of the face was marred by a weak mouth and chin.She was exquisitely dressed, her fingers were covered with rings, anddiamonds glittered on her snowy neck. Her face was pale, and her eyeswere swollen with weeping; and it was with something like a sob that shesaid, as she stood at the table and looked down at the sullen, ghastlyface of her husband:--

  "Someone has been here--just gone; I heard a footstep; I know it.Derrick has been here."

  He would have lied to her if he had thought she would have believed thelie.

  "Yes," he said. "He has just gone. He--he came to say good-bye."

  "Good-bye!" she repeated, her brows knitting with perplexity andtrouble. "Is he going? Where? Why? Didn't you tell him that Mr. Brand,the lawyer, had--had paid the money and settled everything? Oh, if I hadonly known it when I went to Derrick; if the letter had only comebefore, so that I could have told him there was no need for him to fearany--any trouble! But you told him, Percy?"

  "Yes, of course I told him," he said, staring at his boots; "but he hadmade up his mind to go abroad; and--and, 'pon my soul, I think it's thebest thing he could do."

  She looked down on him with a face still showing trouble and doubt.

  "But--but, Percy, he hadn't any money; he admitted as much to me. And Icouldn't give him any."

  "That's all right," he said, clearing his throat. "I--I saw to that. Icouldn't give him much, unfortunately; but I scraped together all I'dgot. It will leave us pretty short of coin for a bit, Miriam."

  She went to him quickly, put her arm round his shoulder, and, bending,kissed him. "You did! That was good of you; it was like you,Percy--after all that he has done, and the trouble he might have got youinto. I'm glad you gave him all you'd got; and I don't mind runningshort."

  Her cheeks were wet and wetted his; he drew his hand across his facewith barely-concealed impatience and annoyance.

  "That's all right," he said. "Of course, I had to do the best I couldfor him, poor devil! for the sake of--of old times. I didn't forget thatyou were once fond of him--well, rather taken with him; that you wereold friends. Look here, Miriam, we don't want to harp upon this affair;it's a beastly bad business, and the sooner we forget it the better. ForHeaven's sake, let's drop it here and now. I shan't refer to it, shan'tmention Derrick Dene's name again; and don't you. Just push that trayover, will you? I've had a deuced unpleasant scene with him, I can tellyou; and it's upset me deucedly. But there!" he added, with a jerk ofthe head, as he mixed a stiff soda and whisky, "there's an end of him,so far as we're concerned. What?"