Parlous Times: A Novel of Modern Diplomacy

"Why? Because, having run away from my house and secured legal assistance in London to bring suit against me – well, on statutory grounds, she has, as a proof of her injuries, seen fit to take up her residence at the bachelor quarters of her Secretary of Legation."

"What! Is she there now?" cried Miss Fitzgerald, her eyes flashing, as she turned them full on Stanley.

That gentleman, who had foreseen this dénouement from the first, half rose to his feet with a view of crushing his defamer, but the Colonel's next statement so staggered him that he sunk back in his seat.

"No," replied that officer, in answer to Miss Fitzgerald's question. "No. London life didn't seem to agree with them, so they've made a little expedition into Sussex together; in fact, they're both here, or hereabouts."

"What do you say?" cried Belle, quite dazed by this astounding declaration.

"Oh, it's quite true. She actually had the effrontery to write me requesting that I send her belongings to his chambers. Of course I got no satisfaction in London, for my young man, with a discretion far beyond his years, promptly left for parts unknown. I didn't search for him, I watched her. I knew I could trust her to put me on the scent, if not to lead me to the quarry. She's quite fulfilled my expectations. When she left town my detective was on hand, followed her to Liverpool Street, watched her while she took her ticket, secured a place in another part of the same train, located her in a farmhouse on this estate, and, as I suspected, found that among the guests at the Hall was my co-respondent, Mr. Secretary Aloysius Stanley."

The speaker paused, and absolute silence reigned between them; but he did not seem to notice the tense muscles of the man or the flushed anxiety of the woman.

"Well, that's the story," he said shortly. "Not a pretty one, either, is it; but of course I shall have to see it through, and, as a first step, I must ask the assistance of you both in meeting this little cad of a diplomat. After I've settled with him, I shall leave her quite free to – "

"Stop!" cried the Secretary. "Don't say that, Colonel Darcy. Don't you dare to say it!"

"What the devil – I – " began Darcy, completely astonished at the turn affairs had taken.

"Miss Fitzgerald," continued his companion, "neglected to introduce me formally, but I will rectify that error. My name is Aloysius Stanley, and I'm the Secretary of Legation to whom you've presumed to allude in language for which I shall demand an explanation."

"We'll settle our difficulties at some more appropriate time, sir," replied the Colonel, with repressed anger patent in every tone.

"We'll settle them here and now – I demand a retraction of what you've just said, or intimated, in regard to my relations with your wife."

"I'll give you the only satisfaction you have a right to expect, and I to demand, when and where you please."

"Gentlemen! gentlemen!" exclaimed Miss Fitzgerald, fearful of what their anger might lead to. "Pray remember that you're in the presence of a lady."

"You need have no fear," said Stanley, in reply to her request, "I shall not forget myself." Then turning to Darcy, he continued:

"Did not my profession, which is essentially one of peace, prevent me from taking any notice of your absurd challenge, I should still refuse to involve myself in a matter with which I've no concern, merely because you've been enough of a cad to slander your wife in the presence of a third person."

"If I ever meet you outside!" began the Colonel, purple with rage – but the Secretary continued his remarks, oblivious of the interruption.

"There is one thing, however, that I shall do," he said. "Unless you leave this house immediately, I shall inform my hostess, who has already refused to include your name in her party, of what I know of you, and then put you out."

"Do go, Bob!" cried Belle. "Do, to please me."

"Oh, to please you," said Darcy, sulkily, "I suppose I must. But where I'm to go for a night's lodging, in this God-forsaken place, is quite a problem."

"Oh, there's a good inn just outside the Lodge gates. I know the proprietor of it," said Miss Fitzgerald.

"Perhaps you'll give me a line to him," he suggested, "as you're turning me out, and I've no luggage to insure my respectability."

"Certainly," she replied, "if you've a pencil, and will excuse the back of an old envelope."

The Colonel nodded, and she took an undirected envelope, which seemed to be carrying more than it could conveniently hold, from the pocket of her dress, and hastily scribbled a line on it with the pencil he gave her, handing them both to him nervously.

"Perhaps," suggested the Secretary coldly, who had watched this transaction with growing irritation, "it would be as well to remove the contents of your letter, Miss Fitzgerald. You should be careful to whom you entrust your correspondence."

She faced him, and looked at him steadily, with those great blue eyes of hers, while she said, with measured force and deliberation:

"I should be quite willing to trust the contents of any of my letters to Colonel Darcy's care."

The Colonel had, meantime, been nervously twisting the envelope round his fingers, and Stanley caught sight of a well-known monogram composed of the initials A. R. It was the letter he had taken from Kingsland, and restored to Mr. Riddle. How came it in Belle's hands – the seal still unbroken, and why was it given to Darcy? His suspicions, so long lulled by careful artifice, were at once aroused, and he threw the Colonel a glance, the meaning of which was not lost on the woman. Suddenly, her whole manner changing, she became nervous and excitable, once more saying to Darcy:

"Now, go, Bob; go at once, for all our sakes."

He growled a surly reply, and before the Secretary was aware of his intentions, had left the room.

Stanley stood for a moment, dazed; uncertain whether to follow or remain, his breast full of conflicting emotions; bewilderment at the vast field of possibilities opened by the Colonel's receipt of the letter; rage at his cowardly imputations, and dismay at the consequences of the strong circumstantial evidence which Madame Darcy had unwittingly manufactured against him; and at the effect which the Colonel's charges might produce on Miss Fitzgerald.

He was prepared for hysterics, recriminations, stern questions, scorn, anger, and endless tears; but totally unprepared for the ringing burst of laughter which greeted him as soon as the Colonel had left the room; cold, cynical laughter, from the girl he had just asked to be his wife, who threw herself on the couch, her eyes flashing and her whole face twitching with anger or merriment, he was not certain which.

"Oh dear – oh dear!" she cried, when she could at last control her voice, "this is too funny! too dreadfully funny!"

"I don't see anything amusing about it," he said bluntly. He was angry and sore, and this ill-timed merriment irritated him.

"Don't you? Then you must have lost your sense of humour. This young man," she continued, pointing at him, as if she were exhibiting him to a crowd. "This good young man, who preaches me sermons on self-respect – who is concerned for my good name – who thinks I've been too careless of my reputation, who is cut to the heart because I do not live up to the ideal to which he considers a woman should attain, who has just done me the honour to ask my hand in marriage – not because he loves me – oh dear, no – but because he feels it his duty to save me from myself. This practical young man, who combines pleasure with duty, by conducting an affaire du cœur, in a neighbouring farmhouse, with my friend's wife, but whose morality is so outraged at the man who is courteous enough to permit that wife to get the divorce, that he can't bear to be in the same room with him. This superlatively excellent young man, who had almost persuaded me that I was wrong in my estimate of human nature, turns out to be the worst of the lot, a whitened sepulchre of lying and hypocrisy and deceit – or perhaps I should sum it all up and say – a model of diplomacy. Isn't it funny – isn't it cruelly, wickedly humorous? Do you wonder I laugh?"

"If you can believe this of me, Miss Fitzgerald – " began the Secretary, who had flushed, and then turned as white as a sheet.

"One story's good till another is told, my dear Jimsy; but I was wrong to have laughed. I quite understand, believe me, the painfulness of your position."

"I tell you it's not true – " he began.

"Oh, don't try to improve the situation. You can't" – she continued, rising and towering before him in the majesty of her wrath. "I'd really come to believe that there was one among the hundreds of worthless, vicious, mercenary human beings I know, who called themselves men, who was what he claimed to be; who really believed in the old fallacies of right and duty, and moral cleanliness, and lived up to them; who really kept the ten commandments in thought as well as in act, a strong rock of defence to whom I might cling in time of trouble; but he's a fraud like all the rest, and the man I made a hero turns out to be of clay!"

She paused, and the Secretary, controlling himself, replied coldly:

"After what you've said, it's of course worse than useless for me to repeat the question I asked you just before Colonel Darcy intruded his presence upon us. It had better remain unanswered."

"No," she said. "I don't think so. It needs an answer, and you shall have it – but not yet. I've been a little fool, and have been punished for my folly; but I don't know any reason why I should make you suffer. You're only as you were made. You can't help it, I dare say."

"You surely can't think of marrying me, believing what you do."

"I don't know. While I thought you were an angel, I was afraid of you. I thought I should have to be constantly living up to you and listening to sermons; – Thank Heavens you can never preach to me again. Even you wouldn't have the face to do it now. But since I've found out that you're only very human, I really don't know but what I might grow to love you. I'll think it over. There," she continued, "don't look so sheepish. I may decide not to take you after all, but until then consider yourself on approval. Don't say anything more, you'd only bore me. I want to be by myself and get my face straight, if I can," and crossing the room she broke out again into peals of ringing, unmusical laughter.

"This is intolerable!" he cried, but he addressed thin air, – he was alone.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE DOOR WITH THE SILVER NAILS

    "St. James' Club,
    "Piccadilly, W.