Parlous Times: A Novel of Modern Diplomacy

"Now read the other," commanded Kent-Lauriston; and, sick at heart, the Secretary complied:

"You old Stupid:

"Is the report really true that you have lost that letter under the secret door? There is no time to duplicate it, so it must be recovered. Why didn't you write and tell me you had lost it? – "

"But he did," commented the reader.

"Both letters were intercepted before delivery, I imagine," said Kent-Lauriston, "but finish the note."

" – Do not try to see me again," read Stanley; "it might arouse suspicion, and you know how necessary it is for me to play the rôle of the innocent. I am more afraid of Inez than anyone else. I am sure she suspects there is something between us. There is no danger in Little Diplomacy; he is young enough to believe he knows everything, and that is a great safeguard. I have found a trusty messenger for our affairs in Jack Kingsland.

    "As ever,
    "Belle."

The Secretary stopped reading; his throat was very dry. He took a glass of Apollinaris, and then said: —

"These letters are not incriminating – in the way you mean."

"No, perhaps not in so many words; but you must ask yourself two questions concerning them. Are they letters that an honourable or refined woman would write to or receive from a married man, at any time, and particularly when she herself was practically engaged?"

"May I ask to what you imagine Darcy's expression, 'all I hold most dear,' refers?"

"Oh, his heart, or his love, or some such sentimental rubbish."

"So I supposed; it hasn't occurred to you to take it in a more literal sense?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, say that all he holds most dear refers to the five chests of sovereigns."

"You believe this?"

"I know it to be so – and have known it all along – the fact that I tell you confidentially, that I'm acting under secret instructions in this matter, will, I'm sure, suffice not only to seal your lips, but to make you understand that, for the present, you must be contented not to know more."

Kent-Lauriston nodded.

"You'll see, then," continued the Secretary, "that what you supposed was an intrigue turns out to be – shall we say – a commercial transaction."

Kent-Lauriston shrugged his shoulders, remarking: —

"I'd better return the letters to Madame Darcy at once then?"

"No, leave that to me, I shall ask her to let me keep them, if she will; they may be useful – as evidence."

"But, surely, any woman who could connect herself with so dishonourable an affair, as I imagine this to be, is no fit wife for you. Give me your word you'll break with her once and for all."

"I've sources of information about Darcy which, as I have said before, I'm not at liberty to reveal, but forty-eight hours may loose my tongue. If I could tell Miss Fitzgerald what I know, she might throw him over even now, for I still hope she's only his dupe. Give me two days to prove her innocent; if I fail – I'll do what you please."

Kent-Lauriston reluctantly acquiesced, and Stanley, putting the incriminating letters carefully in an inside pocket, bade him good-night, and left the smoking-room. In the hall he met Lady Isabelle.

"I don't know what you'll think of me for coming to you, Mr. Stanley," she said, "after what has passed this evening."

"I think myself an infernal ass, for I've found out the truth of the matter since I left you, and I think you're very good to overlook it, and very condescending to speak to me at all."

"Do not let us talk of that," she said.

"Agreed," he replied. "Only permit me to say, I'd the parson's solemn assurance that he'd not married you, and, however unadvisedly I may have spoken, I spoke in good faith."

"I quite understand," she returned. "But now you know the truth."

"I do, and I'm very much ashamed of myself."

She smiled, a trifle sadly, and changed the subject abruptly, saying: —

"I've come to ask you a great favour. In the face of the past I almost hesitate to do so, but there's no one else to whom I can turn – and so – "

"Anything I can do – " he began.

"I only want to ask you a question."

"Only a question!"

"Yet, I hesitate to ask even that – because it concerns a lady in whom you're interested."

"Miss Fitzgerald?"

"Yes."

"You need have no hesitation," he said coldly.

"I'm sure you will not misunderstand me," she continued.

He bowed silently.

"After you left us, I questioned Miss Fitzgerald about the part she'd played in my marriage."

Stanley nodded.

"You can understand that I was very angry. Whose feelings would not have been outraged at discovering that they'd been so played upon? I'm sure that my husband was as innocent of the deception as I."

She paused a second, but the Secretary did not speak, and she continued, afraid, perhaps, that he might say something to overthrow her theory.

"I dare say I forgot myself – in fact I'm sure I did – and said things that I now regret; but in the heat of the argument she taunted me with the fact that she had it in her power to have my husband cashiered from the navy, if she chose to tell what she knew. Is this true?"

"Did she specify what he'd done?" asked Stanley, the horrid suspicion that Belle was not innocent once more reasserting itself with increased force.

"No, but she said it was something he'd done in London, during his present absence."