The Great Secret

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"Has he said anything?" she murmured.

"Not yet," I answered.

"He will do so," she declared confidently, "and before long. That is why
I am here. You must come to me the moment--the very moment you know! You
understand that?"

"Yes!" I answered, a little discontentedly, "I understand!"

Her expression suddenly changed. A frown darkened her face.

"Perhaps," she said, "you have already repented."

"Repented of what?" I asked quickly.

"That you have moved a little out of the rut, that you have taken a hand,
even if it is a dummy's hand, in the game of life! Do you wish to draw
back?"

"No!" I answered.

"Do you wish to be relieved of Leslie Guest? I could arrange it; it would
be a matter of a few hours only."

"No!" I answered again. "I wish for one thing only!"

"And that?"

"You know!" I declared.

She turned a little way from me.

"I am not a magician," she declared.

"And yet you know," I answered. "A woman always does! I have no idea
what these ties are, which seem to bind you to a life of mystery and
double-dealing, but I should like to cut them loose. You have talked to
me of ambition, of a larger life, where excitement and tragedy walk hand
in hand! I should like to sweep all that away. I should like to convert
you to my point of view."

She looked at me curiously. Never in my experience of her sex had I seen
any one who varied so quickly in appearance, who seemed to pass with such
effortless facility from the girl with the Madonna-like face and dreamy
eyes, to the thoughtful and scheming woman of the world. Her rapid
changes were a torture to me! I felt the elusiveness of her attitude.

"You would like me," she said scornfully, "to lead your village life, to
watch the seasons pass from behind your windows. I was not born for that
sort of thing! The thirst for life was in my veins from the nursery. You
and I are as far apart as the North Star and the unknown land over which
it watches! Sin itself would be less terrible to me than the indolence of
such a life!"

"You have never tried it," I remarked.

"Nor shall I ever," she answered, "unless--"

"Unless what?"

She raised her eyebrows and flashed a sudden strange look upon me. There
was mockery in it, subtlety, and a certain uneasiness which pleased me
most. After all, she was like a beautiful wild young creature. The ways
of her life were not yet wholly decreed.

"Unless the great magician comes and waves his wand," she declared. "The
magic may fall upon my eyes, you know, and I may see new things."

I touched her hand for a moment. The dog's face was wrinkled like a
monkey's, he growled, and his narrow red tongue shot out threateningly.

"It is that," I murmured, "which I shall pray for!"

She raised her head suddenly. We heard Lady Dennisford moving upon the
terrace. She leaned over towards me.

"Leslie Guest," she whispered, "will not live for more than forty-eight
hours. Make him tell you--to-night! To-morrow may be too late. Do you
hear?--to-night!"

I was absolutely tongue-tied. Wherever else she failed, she was certainly
a superb actress. A moment ago, she had been keeping my earnestness at
bay with bantering words; then, at the sound of Lady Dennisford's
approach, had come those few dramatic words; and now, at her entrance, I
felt at once that I was the casual guest, being entertained as a matter
of duty during my hostess' absence.

"I told you, didn't I, that I had met Mr. Courage in town?" she remarked,
looking up. "After all, it is such a small world, isn't it?"

Lady Dennisford was scarcely in a condition to be observant. I believe
that if we had been sitting hand in hand, she would scarcely have noticed
the fact. She was very pale, and her eyes were exceedingly bright. She
passed half-way through the room without even seeming to realize our
presence. Then she stopped suddenly and addressed me.

"I am ordering a pony-cart," she said, "to take Mr. Guest back. He seems
over-fatigued."

"Very thoughtful of you, Lady Dennisford," I answered. "We certainly did
not mean to walk so far when we came out into the park."

A servant entered the room. She gave him some orders, and then, with a
word of excuse to Adele, she came over to my side.

"Hardross," she said softly, "what is the matter with him?"

"General breakdown," I answered; "I do not know of anything else."

"What does the doctor say?"

"The London doctor," I admitted, "gave little hope. Rust cannot discover
that anything much is the matter with him."

"You yourself--what do you think?"

I hesitated. Her fingers gripped my arm.

"I think that he is very ill," I answered.

"Dying?"

"I should not be surprised."

She looked back towards the terrace. Her eyes were full of tears.

"Do what you can for him," she said softly. "He was once a great friend
of mine. He was different then! Will you go out to him now? I promised to
send you."

Guest was sitting upon the terrace, exactly as I had left him. His eyes
were fixed upon vacancy, his lips were slightly curled in a meditative
smile. There was a distinct change in his appearance. His expression was
more peaceful, the slight restlessness had disappeared from his manner.
But he had never looked to me more like a dying man.

"Lady Dennisford sent me out," I remarked, "She has ordered a pony-cart
to take us home."

He nodded.

"I am quite ready," he said.

He tried to rise, but the effort seemed too much for him. I hastened to
his aid, or I think that he would have fallen. He leaned on my arm
heavily as we passed on our way to the avenue, where a carriage was
already awaiting us.

"I was once," he remarked, in an ordinary conversational tone, "engaged
to be married to Lady Dennisford."

"There was no--disagreement between you?" I asked.

"None that has not been healed," he answered softly.

"You would consider her to-day as a friend--not a likely enemy?" I asked.

He looked at me curiously.

"She is my friend," he answered softly. "Of that there is no doubt at
all. Why do you ask?"

"Because," I answered, "for your friend, she has a strange guest."

"Whom do you mean?" he asked.

"Mademoiselle, and her maid--and poodle," I answered. "They are all
here!"

I felt him shiver, for he was leaning heavily upon me. Nevertheless, he
answered me with confidence.

"It is the gathering of the jackals," he muttered--"the jackals who are
going to be disappointed. But you may be sure of one thing, my friend.
The young lady is here as an ordinary guest! That was a matter very easy
to arrange. There is a great social backing behind her. She can come and
go where she pleases. But Lady Dennisford's knowledge of her is wholly
innocent."

We drove back almost in silence. Rust was waiting for us when we arrived,
and he eyed his patient curiously, and hurried him off to the house. They
were alone together for some time, and when he came out his face was very
grave. He came out into the garden in search of me!

"Courage," he said, "I wish to heavens I had never seen your guest!"

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Have you been quarrelling?"

"Quarrelling, no! One doesn't quarrel with a dying man," he answered.

"A dying man!" I repeated.

He nodded.

"He was on the verge of a collapse just now," he said. "I honestly fear
that he will not live many more hours. Yet, though I could fill in his
death certificate plausibly enough, if you were to ask me honestly to-day
what was the matter with him, I could not tell you. Do you mind if I wire
for a friend of mine to come down and see him?"

"By all means," I answered; "you mean a specialist, I suppose?"

"Yes!"

"On the heart?" I asked.

"No! a toxicologist!" Rust remarked dryly.

I glanced into his face. He was in deadly earnest.

"You believe--"

"What the devil is one to believe?" the doctor exclaimed irritably. "The
man is sound, but he is dying. If I told you that I understood his
symptoms, I should be a liar. I can think only of one thing. You yourself
gave me the idea."

"Wire by all means," I said.

"I shall go to the village," Rust said, "and return immediately. Don't
let him be left alone. He has a draught to take in case of necessity."

I turned back to the house with a sigh. I am afraid that I had as little
faith in medicine as Guest himself.

CHAPTER XIV

GATHERING JACKALS

Guest for the remainder of the morning seemed to have fallen into a sort
of stupor. He declined to sit in the garden or come down to lunch.
When I went up to his room, he was lying upon a couch, half undressed,
and with a dressing-gown wrapped around him. He opened his eyes when I
came in, but waved me away.

"I am thinking," he said. "Don't interrupt me; I want to be alone for an
hour or so."

"But you must have something to eat," I insisted. "You will lose your
strength if you don't."

"Quite right," he admitted. "Send me up some soup, and let me have pencil
and paper."

He was supplied with both. When I went up an hour later, he was smoking a
cigarette and writing.

"I do not wish," he said, "to be worried with any more doctors. It is
only a farce, and I have little time to spare."

"Nonsense!" I answered. "Rust declares that there is very little the
matter with you. He has sent for a friend to come and have a look at
you."

A little gesture of impatience escaped him.

"My dear Courage," he said, "I am obliged to you for all this care; but I
am quite sure that, in your inner consciousness, you realize as I do that
it is sheer waste of time."

He drew his dressing-gown a little closer around him. The hollows under
his eyes seemed to have grown deeper since the morning.

"I am fairly run to earth," he continued. "Even these few hours of life I
owe to my enemies. They hope to profit by them, of course. If you are the
man I think you are, they will be mistaken. But don't waste my time with
doctors."

He began to write again. I made some perfunctory remark which he entirely
ignored. Just then I was called away. He watched my departure with
obvious relief.

I was told that a stranger was waiting to see me in the library. My first
thought was of the doctor. When I arrived there, I found a young man
whose face was familiar, but whom I could not at once place. Then, like a
flash, I remembered. It was the younger of the two men who had forced
their way into my room at the Hotel Universal.

Now I was in no very good humor for dealing with these gentry. I had a
distinct inclination to take him by the collar of the coat and throw him
out. I fancy that he divined from my face how I was feeling, for he began
hastily to explain his presence.

"I am very sorry to be an intruder, Mr. Courage," he said in his slow,
precise English. "I had no wish to come at all. We were willing to leave
you undisturbed. But we do not understand why you have sent for a doctor
from London--and especially Professor Kauppmann!"

I looked at him deliberately. He was wearing English clothes--a dark
tweed suit, ill-cut, and apparently ready-made; but the foreigner was
written large all over him, from the tie of his bow to his narrow patent
boots. His eyes were fixed anxiously upon me--large black eyes with long,
feminine eyelashes. I think that if he had not been under the shelter of
my own roof, I must have laid violent hands upon him.

"Why the devil should you understand?" I exclaimed. "Mr. Guest is my
visitor, and if I choose to send for a doctor to see him, it is my
business and nobody else's. If you have come here with any idea of
bullying me, I am afraid you have wasted your time."

"You have evidently," he answered, "not troubled yourself to understand
the situation! Mr. Guest is our prisoner!"

"Your what?" I exclaimed.

"Our prisoner," the young man answered. "Let me ask you this! Has Mr.
Guest himself encouraged you in your attempt to interfere between him and
his inevitable fate? No! I am sure that he has not! He accepts what he
knows must happen! A few days more or less of life--what do they matter?"

"You make me feel inclined," I said grimly, "to test your theory."

The young man stepped back. My fingers were itching to take him by the
throat, and I think that he read the desire in my face.

"Will you allow me to see Mr. Guest?" he asked.

"No! I'm d----d if I will," I answered. "I shall give you," I added, with
my hand upon the bell, "exactly two minutes to leave this house."

The young man smiled superciliously, but he picked up his hat.

"I suppose, Mr. Courage, I must not blame you," he remarked, "You have
all the characteristics of your country-people. You meet a delicate
situation with the tactics of a bull!"

I laid my hand gently, but firmly upon his shoulder. We were half-way
down the hall now, and the front door was wide open. I longed to throw
him out, but I restrained myself. He was perfectly conscious, I am sure,
of my inclination, but he showed no signs of uneasiness.

"I admit," I said calmly, "that you seem, all of you, to be engaged in
proceedings of an extraordinary nature, which I do not in the least
understand. But under my own roof, at any rate, I am master. I will not
tolerate any interference with my guests; and as for Mr. Stanley from
Liverpool and you, whatever you may call yourself, I will not have you
near the place! You see my lodge gates," I added, pointing down the
avenue, "I shall stand here until you have passed through them. If you
come again, you will meet with a different reception!"

The young man laughed unpleasantly.

"Never fear, Mr. Courage," he answered. "Always we try first the simple
means. If they should fail, we have many surer ways of gaining our ends.
Au revoir!"

He left me and walked briskly off down the avenue. I fetched a pair of
field-glasses, and watched him until he reached the lodge gates. A few
moments later I saw him climb into a motor car, and vanish in a cloud
of dust....

Later in the afternoon a victoria drew up before my front door just as I
was starting for the village. Lady Dennisford leaned forward as I
approached. She was closely veiled, but her voice shook with anxiety.

"How is he?" she asked.

"It is hard to say," I answered. "He has been writing for the last three
hours. I was just going down to see if Rust has heard from the London man
he wired for."

"Do you know why," she whispered, "he is so sure that he is going to
die?"

I hesitated for a moment.

"He seems to imagine," I said, "that he has some enemies."

She sighed.

"I am afraid," she said, "that it is no imagination."

I looked at her in surprise.

"He has told me, perhaps," she said, a little hastily, "more than he has
told you, and perhaps I am in a better position to understand. Mr.
Courage, I wonder whether it would be possible for me to have an
interview with any one of these men who are watching him."

"If you had been here a few hours ago," I said, "it would have been very
possible indeed. One of them was here."

"What did he want?" she asked sharply.

"To see Mr. Guest, for one thing!"

"Did you allow it?"

"No! Guest is writing secrets with a loaded revolver by his side. He
certainly does not want to see any of that crew."

"Oh! he is mad," she murmured. "Why should he not buy his life? What else
is there that counts?"

"There are two to a bargain," I answered. "I do not think that he has
value to give."

"Oh! he has," she answered, "if only he would be reasonable."

We were silent for a moment. In the distance, coming up the avenue, was
the figure of a man. I watched him with curiosity. Finally I pointed him
out to Lady Dennisford.

"Do you see this man coming up to the house?" I said--"a sleek,
middle-aged man smoking a cigar?"

"I see him," she answered.

"What do you think he looks like?" I asked.

"A prosperous tradesman," she answered. "A friend of your bailiff's,
perhaps."

"He calls himself Mr. Stanley from Liverpool," I answered, "and you can
bargain with him for Guest's life."

"He is one of them!" she exclaimed.

"He is," I answered grimly, for I had good reason to know it.

She got out of the carriage at once.

"I am going to meet him," she said. "No! please let me go alone," she
added, as I prepared to accompany her. "Afterwards we may need you."

I sent her carriage round to the stables, and I stood upon my steps
watching her. Slim and elegant, she walked with swift level footsteps
towards the approaching figure. I saw him shade his eyes with his hand as
she approached; when she was within a few yards of him he took his cigar
from his mouth and raised his hat. They stood for a moment or two
talking; then Lady Dennisford turned, and they both came slowly towards
the house. As they drew near me, she came on rapidly ahead.

"He is willing," she declared. "He will make terms. Where can we talk
alone, we three?"

I led the way to my study. Mr. Stanley greeted me affably and with a
commendable assumption of bluff respect.

"Fine place of yours, Mr. Courage," he declared. "Very fine place indeed.
No wonder you prefer a country life. Finest thing in the world."

I made a pretence of answering him. But when we were in the study and the
door was closed behind us, I felt that there was no longer any need to
mince words.

"Mr. Stanley," I said, "Lady Dennisford says that you are willing to
abandon your persecution of my guest for a consideration."

He smiled upon us slowly.

"Persecution," he remarked thoughtfully, "well, it is a harmless word.
Mind, I admit nothing. But I am willing to hear what you have to say."

"This first, then," I declared. "Will you tell me why, as a magistrate of
this county, I should not be justified in signing a warrant for your
apprehension?"

"On what charge?" he asked.

"Conspiracy to murder," I answered.

He seemed to consider the suggestion with perfect seriousness.

"Yes!" he admitted, "it could be done. Putting myself in your place I
should even imagine that it might be the most obvious course. But have
you considered what the probable result would be?"

"It would keep you out of mischief for a time, at any rate."

"Not for a day," he answered softly. "In the first place, the slenderness
of your evidence, which, by the by, when the affair came to trial would
disappear altogether, would necessitate bail; and, in the second, were I
to be swept off the face of the earth, there are thousands ready to take
my place. Besides, no man likes to make himself the laughing stock of his
friends and the press; and, forgive me, Mr. Courage, if I remind you that
that is precisely what would happen in your case."

"Suppose, for a moment, then," said, "that I abandon that possibility.
Make your own proposals. I do not know who you are or what you stand for.
I do not know whether this is an affair of private vengeance, or whether
you stand for others. That poor fellow upstairs cannot have a long life
before him in any case. What is there we can offer you to leave him in
peace?"

"You two--nothing," Mr. Stanley said gravely. "He himself can buy his
life from us, if he wills."

"Then can I--or Lady Dennisford here," I asked, "be your ambassador? Can
we tell him your terms?"

Mr. Stanley shook his head.

"It is impossible," he said. "Matters would have to be discussed between
us which may not even be mentioned before any other person."

"You mean that you would have to see him alone?"

"Precisely!"

I turned to Lady Dennisford.

"He would never consent!" I declared.

"You must make him," she answered. "Mr. Courage!"

"Lady Dennisford!"

"Let me speak to you alone for a moment," she begged, laying her hand
upon my arm. "Mr. Stanley will excuse us, I am sure."

"By all means," he declared, selecting an easy-chair.

"You will await us here?" I asked.

"Certainly!"

"On parole?"

"On parole, if you will give me a cigar."

I rang the bell for refreshments. Then Lady Dennisford and I left the
room together.

CHAPTER XV

A DYING MAN

I had known Lady Dennisford for a good many years in a neighborly sort
of way; but the woman who stood before me in the small sitting-room to
which I had led her was a stranger to me. She had raised her veil; she
was as pale as a woman may be, and her mouth, usually so firm and
uncompromising, was now relaxed and tremulous. Before she spoke, I knew
that tragedy was in the room with me. She tried to speak twice before the
words came.

"Mr. Courage," she said, "may I speak to you as a friend?"

"Most certainly you can, Lady Dennisford," I answered.

I said and I meant it, for I was exceedingly sorry for her.

"Once I was to have married him," she said, "and I have cared for no one
else all my life. There was a great scandal--a political scandal--and it
was he upon whom the burden fell. His lips were sealed. I did not
understand then, but I understand now. I sent him away! I joined with the
others who persecuted him. And all the time--all the time he was
innocent!"

Her last words were almost a wail. I was relieved to see that the tears
were in her eyes at last.

"It was very hard fortune," I said awkwardly.

"His life has been one long exile," she said. "He has never married; he
has been dead to the world for many years. His name, of course, is not
Leslie Guest! If I dared tell you, you would understand I want him--oh! I
want him so much to have a few years of happiness."

"What can we do, Lady Dennisford?" I asked earnestly.

"Take me up to him. Leave me with him alone."

I opened the door.

"At once!" I said.

He was still writing. The air of the room was thick with cigarette smoke.
I opened the door gently, and Lady Dennisford glided past me. I myself
hastened downstairs.

Mr. Stanley was apparently very comfortable. He was smoking one of my
best cigars, and a whisky and soda stood at his elbow. He looked up from
behind the _Times_ as I entered.

"Lady Dennisford is with him," I said. "She will endeavor to persuade him
to see you."

"Excellent!" he remarked. "Pray do not trouble to stay with me, if you
have other matters to attend to. I have both time and patience to spare."

I went out into the garden. I began to feel the need of being alone.
Events had marched rapidly with me during the last few hours and I was
not used to such eruptions in my quiet life. I gave a few orders to my
bailiff and gamekeeper, who were waiting to see me. I little guessed then
how unimportant to me would be the prospects of the coming sport. It must
have been nearly an hour before a servant found me, and announced that my
guest desired to see me in his room. I hastened there at once.

Lady Dennisford was sitting at the table by Guest's side. She looked up
as I entered, and I saw that the shadows lay deeper still upon her face.

"He chooses death!" she said simply.

He leaned over and touched her hand. His tone and manner had softened
wonderfully.

"Eleanor," he said earnestly, "it is not I who choose. There is no
choice! Your friend downstairs would say, 'Tell me all that you know of a
certain matter, and the sentence which has been passed upon you shall be
held over.' But when I had told him, when he knew everything, no
agreement, no promise, could possibly be binding. I could not myself
expect it. In his place I should make very sure that in a matter of hours
I was a dead man. I say that myself, whose whole life has been sacrificed
to a matter in which honor was largely concerned."

Lady Dennisford began to weep softly. He laid his hand upon hers.

"Are you sure, Mr. Guest," I said, "that you are not exaggerating the
importance of this secret knowledge of yours? I dare say that Mr.
Stanley, like every other man, has his price. If money--"

He interrupted me with a slight gesture of impatience.

"My young friend," he said, "I am not a poor man. Mr. Stanley is not to
be dealt with as a single individual. He represents a system. I do not
blame you for not being able to grasp these things. There is scarcely one
Englishman in a thousand who would. I think that you have shown a great
amount of trust as it is. Believe me now when I tell you that there are
only two things in the world which can be done for me. The first is that
you leave me a few minutes to say good-bye to Lady Dennisford; and the
second that you keep every one away from me for one hour, while I
Finish--these documents."

I left them alone! There was nothing else which I could do, and I waited
in the hall below for Lady Dennisford.

When she came, she walked like a woman in a dream. Her veil was close
drawn, and I could not see her face; but I was very sure that she had
been weeping. I had already ordered her carriage round, and she took her
place in it without a word.

I went back to the man whom I had left in the library.

He had lighted a fresh cigar, and was showing no signs of impatience.

"Our friend," I said, "has asked for one hour for consideration. If you
will allow me, I should be pleased to show you the gardens and stables."

He accepted my offer at once, and proved himself an intelligent
sightseer. He seemed to know a little about everything, including horses.
I took him on to the orchid-houses, and it was quite an hour and a half
before we returned to the house. I left him once more in the library, and
I was on my way upstairs, when I came face to face with Rust and another
man on their way down. For a moment I was speechless.

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