The Temptress

“Ma foi! An excellent suggestion!” she ejaculated enthusiastically.

“You could work it easily enough. Victor and he will be here to-morrow, therefore I should suggest that I start to-night for Spa. You three can follow after a day or two. There you can meet me, introduce me as a friend, and then I can proceed to pluck him of a few hundreds. I’m quicker with the paste-boards than Victor.”

“He’s a good player, I believe.”

“That doesn’t matter. If you can persuade him to play, I’ll soon have some money.”

“My dear Pierre,” Valérie said, laughing, “he will do anything for me. I’m sure he would lose ten thousand francs without a murmur, if he thought he was pleasing me by tempting fortune. He does think such a lot of me that – that I sometimes feel inclined to love him genuinely. I’m almost sick of the base part I am playing.”

Her face assumed a serious look, and she sighed. Pierre regarded her in astonishment.

“What? Giving way to sentiment, now we have gone so far!” he exclaimed. “It’s all nonsense. To think of throwing up the game now would be sheer folly. Such a chance as the present does not always fall to our lot; therefore, it is only right, in our own interests, that we should take advantage of it. If you really love him – well, it will, perhaps, add to the realism of the incident, and won’t do much harm to either of you. But then, you’ve loved others before – in fact, you loved me once – yet now I’m nothing in your eyes beyond a willing assistant in your various little affairs. No,” he continued bitterly, “you have no real affection for any one. I am able to speak from personal experience. Yet you would bar our way and wreck our chance of making our fortunes, because you fancy you’ve fallen in love with this ass of an Englishman? You must be mad to think of such a thing.”

“You misunderstand me,” she said, her beauty heightened by the flush of anger that suffused her face. “Although I have neither intention nor desire to depart from the plan already laid down, I regret that it will be necessary to resort to the extreme measure in order to accomplish our purpose. That is all. As for your suggestion, it shall be carried out. You will go to Spa to-night, if you think there is no danger in the visit.”

“Don’t trouble yourself. I shall run no risk. You get him to play, then leave the rest to me. Within a week the money shall be yours. What do you think of the suggestion of making him defray the cost of his own misfortune, eh?” he asked, laughing.

“Decidedly ingenious, but it won’t work!” shouted a voice in English, causing them to start.

There was a rustling among the thick bushes behind them, and next second Jack Egerton emerged into the path.

“Why are you here, spying upon us?” demanded Pierre, springing to his feet, and assuming a threatening attitude.

“Merely for my own information,” replied the artist, with perfect sang-froid.

“Then, I hope you have obtained the knowledge you desire,” Valérie said, her eyes flashing angrily.

“I have ascertained the depth of your vile scheme, if that is what you mean,” he cried. “You little thought I should keep observation upon your movements. For a fortnight I’ve been watching you in Brussels as closely as a cat watches a mouse. The ingenious tricks I learned under your tuition stood me in good stead, and I have now seen your duplicity, and discovered the extent of your infamy. You are playing the old game, the – ”

“My affairs do not concern you!” she cried, stamping her foot angrily.

“My friend’s interests are my own.”

“Your friend – bah!”

“Yes; I repeat it. I have overheard more than one of your interesting conversations, and am quite aware of your nefarious intention. You are using your beauty to lure him to his ruin.”

“Quite heroic!” sneered Pierre. “This is indeed interesting.”

“Before I have finished you’ll probably find it more interesting, and to your cost,” he replied fiercely. Then, turning to mademoiselle, he said: “You think I fear you, but you make a huge mistake. When we last met you threatened me with exposure if I dare tell him what I knew of your past.”

“I did, and I mean it!” she screamed, with an imprecation in French. “Thwart me, and I’ll show you no mercy.”

“Then you will have an opportunity of exhibiting your vindictiveness,” he observed calmly.

“What do you mean? If self-conceit did not furnish its own buoyancy, some men would never be able to carry their load.”

“I mean that before to-morrow Hugh Trethowen will be upon his guard; he will understand the deep and complicated game you and your jail-birds of Montmartre are playing.”

“You – you dare not breathe a word to him.”

She spoke defiantly, her lips compressed, and her hands tightly clenched.

“Spare yourself,” he replied, waving his hand deprecatingly. “Threats are utterly useless. I am determined to acquaint him with your cunning plot.”

“The consequences will be upon your own head,” said she, with affected indifference.

“I’m perfectly willing that they should,” he answered, with a coolness that astounded her.

“When you stand in a criminal court you’ll alter your tone,” she declared, although unnerved at his willingness to face her vengeance.

“Possibly, when you accompany me there, you will do the same.”

“Oh! How’s that, pray?”

“Death is the penalty for murder,” the artist exclaimed meaningly.

“Murder?” gasped Valérie wildly. “What – what do you mean? What do you infer?”

“Nothing, beyond the fact that if you give me up to the police, you yourself will also be deprived of liberty.”

“Of what do you accuse me, pray?” she demanded haughtily.

“It is the business of the police to investigate crime, not mine.”

In a moment Valérie vaguely conceived that the power she had exercised over him no longer existed. It was possible that he was in possession of some information which removed all fear he had of her. Apprehensive lest he should have learned her secret, she continued to question him, in order, if possible, to ascertain how much he knew.

But he was as wary as herself, replying to her sarcasm with pointed retorts that puzzled her.

Pierre in the meantime stood silent and thoughtful. He, too, saw plainly that their scheme might be checkmated, and that they were on the horns of a serious dilemma. If Egerton imparted the secret to Hugh, the whole of their plans would be frustrated, besides placing them in a very undesirable position. Moreover, the artist had desired to know the reason he had assumed the name of Chavoix instead of his own, and inquiries upon that point, if pressed, might result in extremely awkward revelations. He was therefore trying to devise some feasible means by which to avert a catastrophe that seemed imminent.

“Then, you really mean to carry your threat into execution?” asked mademoiselle, after they had exchanged several sharp passages of words.

Jack Egerton declared that he did.

The colour vanished from her face, and she clenched her fists in anger.

“Dare to do so, and you will rue the consequences till your dying day. You little think how completely you are in my power, or the character of the evidence I hold against you – evidence which is beyond dispute, since you yourself admit your guilt. Remember that at once I could, if I chose, demand your arrest. If you provoke me, I shall adopt that course – ”

“And expose your own villainy,” he remarked superciliously.

“I should adopt it as a measure of self-protection,” she replied, with calmness. “I assure you, however, I have no desire to resort to such a measure, and I have, therefore, a proposal to make,” she added.

“I have no desire to hear it.”

“Listen, and I’ll tell you,” she continued determinedly. “You know that I have certain evidence in my possession, which it is most desirable that you should destroy – you know to what I refer. Were it ever placed in the hands of the police, you would spend the remainder of your days in a convict’s cell. Well, my proposal is that it shall be placed in your hands on the day I marry Hugh Trethowen.”

“You – marry him! You intend doing so?” he asked in abject astonishment, for he had not believed her desirous of an honourable union.