One Of Them

“As to that,” said Stocmar, gravely, “the man who neither cares for his own life or character can always do damage to those of another; there is no disputing about that.”

“Well, I am exactly such a man, and she shall know it.” Not a word was spoken for several minutes, and then Paten resumed, but in a calmer and more deliberate tone, “Trover has told me everything. I see her whole scheme. She meant to marry that old Baronet, and has been endeavoring, by speculating in the share-market, to get some thousands together; now, as the crash has smashed the money part of the scheme, the chances are it will have also upset the marriage. Is not that likely?”

“That is more than I can guess,” said Stocmar, doubtingly.

“You can guess it, just as I can,” said Paten, half angrily. “She’s not the woman to link her fortune with a ruined man. Can’t you guess that?” Stocmar nodded, and Paten went on: “Now, I mean to stand to win on either event, – that’s my book.”

“I don’t understand you, Paul.”

“Call me Ludlow, confound you,” said Paten, passionately, “or that infernal name will slip out some day unawares. What I would say is, that, if she wishes to be ‘My Lady,’ she must buy me off first. If she ‘ll consent to become my wife, – that is the other alternative.”

“She’ll never do that,” said Stocmar, gravely.

“How do you know, – did she tell you so?”

“Certainly not.”

“You only know it, then, from your intimate acquaintance with her sentiments,” said he, sneeringly.

“How I know, or why I believe it, is my own affair,” said Stocmar, in some irritation; “but such is my conviction.”

“Well, it is not mine,” said Paten, filling up his glass, and drinking it slowly off. “I know her somewhat longer – perhaps somewhat better – than you do; and if I know anything in her, it is that she never cherishes a resentment when it costs too high a price.”

“You are always the slave of some especial delusion, Ludlow,” said Stocmar, quietly. “You are possessed with the impression that she is afraid of you. Now, my firm persuasion is, that the man or woman that can terrify her has yet to be born.”

“How she has duped you!” said Paten, insolently.

“That may be,” said he. “There is, however, one error I have not fallen into, – I have not fancied that she is in love with me.”

This sally told; for Paten became lividly pale, and he shook from head to foot with passion. Careful, however, to conceal the deep offence the speech had given him, he never uttered a word in reply. Stocmar saw his advantage, and was silent also. At last he spoke, but it was in a tone so conciliatory and so kindly withal, as to efface, if possible, all unpleasant memory of the last speech. “I wish you would be guided by me, Ludlow, in this business. It is not a question for passion or vindictiveness; and I would simply ask you, Is there not space in the world for both of you, without any need to cross each other? Must your hatred of necessity bridge over all distance, and bring you incessantly into contact? In a word, can you not go your road, and let her go hers, unmolested?”

“Our roads lie the same way, man. I want to travel with her,” cried Paten.

“But not in spite of her! – not, surely, if she declines your company!”

“Which you assume that she must, and I am as confident that she will not.”

Stocmar made an impertinent gesture at this, which Paten, quickly perceiving, resented, by asking, in a tone of almost insult, “What do you mean? Is it so very self-evident that a woman must reject me? Is that your meaning?”

“Any woman that ever lived would reject the man who pursues her with a menace. So long as you presume to wield an influence over her by a threat, your case must be hopeless.”

“These are stage and behind-scene notions, – they never were gleaned from real life. Your theatrical women have little to lose, and it can’t signify much to them whether a story more or less attach to their names. Threats of exposure would certainly affright them little; but your woman living in the world, holding her head amongst other women, criticising their dress, style, and manner, – think of her on the day that the town gets hold of a scandal about her! Do you mean to tell me there’s any price too high to pay for silencing it?”

“What would you really take for those letters of hers, if she were disposed to treat for them?”

“I offered them once to old Nick Holmes for two thousand pounds. I ‘d not accept that sum now.”

“But where or how could she command such an amount?”

“That ‘s no affair of mine. I have an article in the market, and I ‘m not bound to trouble myself as to the straits of the purchaser. Look here, Hyman Stocmar,” said he, changing his voice to a lower tone, while he laid his hand on the other’s arm, – “look here. You think me very vindictive and very malignant in all this, but if you only knew with what insults she has galled me, what cruel slights she has passed upon me, you ‘d pity rather than condemn me. If she would have permitted me to see and speak to her, – if I could only be able to appeal to her myself, – I don’t think it would be in vain; and, if I know anything of myself, I could swear I ‘d bear up with the crudest thing she could utter to me, rather than these open outrages that come conveyed through others.”

“And if that failed, would you engage to restore her letters? – for some possible sum, I mean, for you know well two thousand is out of the question. She told me she could command some six or seven hundred pounds. She said so, believing that I really came to treat with her on the subject.”

Paten shook his head dissentingly, but was silent. At last he said: “She must have much more than this at her command, Stocmar. Hawke’s family never got one shilling by his death; they never were able to trace what became of his money, or the securities he held in foreign funds. I remember how Godfrey used to go on about that girl of his being one day or other the greatest heiress of her time. Take my word for it, Loo could make some revelations on this theme. Come,” cried he, quickly, as a sudden thought flashed across him, “I ‘ll tell you what I ‘ll do. You are to meet her this evening at the masked ball. Let me go in your place. I ‘ll give you my solemn promise not to abuse the opportunity, nor make any scandal whatever. It shall be a mere business discussion between us; so much for so much. If she comes to terms, well. If she does not agree to what I propose, there’s no harm done. As I said before, there shall be no publicity, – no scene.”

“I can’t accede to this, Ludlow. It would be a gross breach of faith on my part,” said Stocmar, gravely.

“All your punctilio, I remark, is reserved for her benefit,” said Paten, angrily. “It never occurs to you to remember that I am the injured person.”

“I only think of the question as it displays a man on one side, and a woman on the other. Long odds in favor of the first, eh?”

“You think so!” said Paten, with a sneer. “By Jove! how well you judge such matters! I can’t help wondering what becomes of all that subtlety and sharpness you show when dealing with stage folk, when you come to treat with the world of every-day life. Why, I defy the wiliest serpent of the ballet to overreach you, and yet you suffer this woman to wind you round her finger!”

“Well, it is a very pretty finger!” laughed Stocmar.

“Yes, but to have you at her feet in this fashion!”

“And what a beautiful foot too!” cried Stocmar, with enthusiasm.

Something that sounded like a malediction was muttered by Paten as he arose and walked the room with passionate strides. “Once more, I say,” cried he, “let me take your place this evening, or else I ‘ll call on this old fool, – this Sir William Heathcote, – and give him the whole story of his bride. I ‘m not sure if it’s not the issue would give me most pleasure. I verily believe it would.”

“It’s a smart price to pay for a bit of malice too!” said Stocmar, musing. “I must say, there are some other ways in which the money would yield me as much pleasure.”

“Is it a bargain, Stocmar? Do you say yes?” cried Paten, with heightened excitement.

“I don’t see how I can agree to it,” broke in the other. “If she distinctly tells me that she will not meet you – ”

“Then she shall, by – !” cried Paten, confirming the determination by a terrible oath. “Look out now, Stocmar, for a scene,” continued he, “and gratify yourself by the thought it is all your own doing. Had you accepted my proposal, I ‘d have simply gone in your place, made myself known to her without scandal or exposure, and, in very few words, declared what my views were, and learned how far she’d concur with them. You prefer an open rupture before the world. Well, you shall have it!”

Stocmar employed all his most skilful arguments to oppose this course. He showed that, in adopting it, Paten sacrificed every prospect of self-interest and advantage, and, for the mere indulgence of a cruel outrage, that he compromised a position of positive benefit. The other, however, would not yield an inch. The extreme concession that Stocmar, after a long discussion, could obtain was, that the interview was not to exceed a few minutes, a quarter of an hour at furthest; that there was to be no éclat or exposure, so far as he could pledge himself; and that he would exonerate Stocmar from all the reproach of being a willing party to the scheme. Even with these stipulations, Stocmar felt far from being reconciled to the plan, and declared that he could never forgive himself for his share in it.

“It is your confounded self-esteem is always uppermost in your thoughts,” said Paten, insolently. “Just please to remember you are no foreground figure in this picture, if you be any figure at all. I feel full certain she does not want you, – I ‘ll take my oath I do not, – so leave us to settle our own affairs our own way, and don’t distress yourself because you can’t interfere with them.”

With this rude speech, uttered in a tone insolent as the words, Paten arose and left the room. Scarcely had the door closed after him, however, than he reopened it, and said, —

“Only one word more, Stocmar. No double, – no treachery with me here. I ‘ll keep my pledge to the very letter; but if you attempt to trick or to overreach me, I ‘ll blow up the magazine.”

Before Stocmar could reply, he was gone.

CHAPTER XXXV. LOO AND HER FATHER

Mrs. Morris, supposed to be confined to her room with a bad headache, was engaged in dressing for the masked ball, when a small twisted note was delivered to her by her maid.

“Is the bearer of this below stairs?” asked she, eagerly. “Show him in immediately.”

The next moment, a short, burly figure, in a travelling-dress, entered, and, saluting her with a kiss on either cheek, unrolled his woollen comforter, and displayed the pleasant, jocund features of Mr. Nicholas Holmes.

“How well you are looking, papa!” said she. “I declare I think you grow younger!”