information," replied the artist, with perfect_sang-froid_.
"Then, I hope you have obtained the knowledge you desire," Valerie said,her eyes flashing angrily.
"I have ascertained the depth of your vile scheme, if that is what youmean," he cried. "You little thought I should keep observation uponyour movements. For a fortnight I've been watching you in Brussels asclosely as a cat watches a mouse. The ingenious tricks I learned underyour 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 interestingconversations, and am quite aware of your nefarious intention. You areusing 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 toyour cost," he replied fiercely. Then, turning to mademoiselle, hesaid: "You think I fear you, but you make a huge mistake. When we lastmet you threatened me with exposure if I dare tell him what I knew ofyour 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; hewill understand the deep and complicated game you and your jail-birds ofMontmartre are playing."
"You--you dare not breathe a word to him."
She spoke defiantly, her lips compressed, and her hands tightlyclenched.
"Spare yourself," he replied, waving his hand deprecatingly. "Threatsare utterly useless. I am determined to acquaint him with your cunningplot."
"The consequences will be upon your own head," said she, with affectedindifference.
"I'm perfectly willing that they should," he answered, with a coolnessthat astounded her.
"When you stand in a criminal court you'll alter your tone," shedeclared, 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 Valerie wildly. "What--what do you mean? What do youinfer?"
"Nothing, beyond the fact that if you give me up to the police, youyourself 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 Valerie vaguely conceived that the power she had exercisedover him no longer existed. It was possible that he was in possessionof some information which removed all fear he had of her. Apprehensivelest 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 pointedretorts that puzzled her.
Pierre in the meantime stood silent and thoughtful. He, too, sawplainly that their scheme might be checkmated, and that they were on thehorns of a serious dilemma. If Egerton imparted the secret to Hugh, thewhole of their plans would be frustrated, besides placing them in a veryundesirable position. Moreover, the artist had desired to know thereason he had assumed the name of Chavoix instead of his own, andinquiries upon that point, if pressed, might result in extremely awkwardrevelations. He was therefore trying to devise some feasible means bywhich to avert a catastrophe that seemed imminent.
"Then, you really mean to carry your threat into execution?" askedmademoiselle, 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 ofthe evidence I hold against you--evidence which is beyond dispute, sinceyou yourself admit your guilt. Remember that at once I could, if Ichose, demand your arrest. If you provoke me, I shall adopt thatcourse--"
"And expose your own villainy," he remarked superciliously.
"I should adopt it as a measure of self-protection," she replied, withcalmness. "I assure you, however, I have no desire to resort to such ameasure, 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 thatI have certain evidence in my possession, which it is most desirablethat you should destroy--you know to what I refer. Were it ever placedin the hands of the police, you would spend the remainder of your daysin a convict's cell. Well, my proposal is that it shall be placed inyour 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.
"Of course I do. And I repeat that, in consideration of your preservingsilence regarding my past I am ready to do what I have told you. Ifnot, there is but one alternative, as I have already explained--imprisonment and ruin. It is for you to decide."
This suggestion, the desperate device of a crafty woman, presentedmatters in a different light. It appeared to him that, after all, ifshe married Hugh she might reform and become an honest woman, while hehimself would, by accepting her terms, render his own position secure.The proposal, he reflected, was one that required careful consideration,for he could not dispute the fact that he really feared her. He knewshe could wreck his life.
"What is your answer?" she asked, watching his thoughtful face narrowly,and noticing with satisfaction his perplexity.
"I cannot give one now. I must think," he replied.
"Very well. Think well over the matter and its consequences beforeacting rashly. I fancy you will come to the same conclusion as myself--that a policy of silence is wisest." Turning to the young man besideher, she said, "Come, Pierre, we will return and leave him to hissolitary reflection."
Rouillier laughed at the other's discomfiture, and turned upon his heel.
"_Bon jour, monsieur_," she said, addressing the artist, making a stiffcurtsey, which he acknowledged with an impatient gesture.
Then she joined her companion, and they retraced their steps through thefir plantation towards the drowsy little town.
"Your nerve and ingenuity are really marvellous, Valerie," exclaimedPierre enthusiastically, when they were out of hearing. "I should neverhave thought of such a scheme. We have got out of an ugly situationvery neatly indeed."
"Yes," replied she confidently. "_Qu'il fasse ce qu'il lui plaira_.He's afraid to utter a word to Hugh."
And they both laughed gaily.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
LIPS FORSWORN.
The great ballroom of the Casino at Spa was filled with a cosmopolitanwell-dressed crowd, who glided over its polished floor to the strain ofa seductive waltz. The huge salon, with its white and gold decorations,its glittering chandeliers, its carved pilasters, and its enormousmirrors, was brightly lit, and presented a gay, dazzling appearance, theshowy dresses of the women lending additional colour and animation tothe scene of gay revelry.
Amid the ever-shifting crowd Valerie and Hugh, both excellent dancers,whirled lightly around, the smiling faces of both denoting perfecthappiness.
Her evening gown, of pale pink filmy gauze, that bore the unmistakablestamp of the Rue de la Paix, suited her admirably, trimmed as it was indaring contrast, that upon a less handsome woman would have been votedhideous. Her diamond necklet sparkled and flashed under the gla
re ofelectricity, and this--although really only paste--was regarded withenvious eyes by more than one woman in the room. As she leaned lightlyupon the arm of the wealthy young Englishman, he thought he had neverseen her beauty shown to greater advantage, and could not refrain fromexpressing his admiration in terms of flattery.
Although one of the most engaging little corners of Europe is assuredlythe well-wooded, umbrageous dell in which nestles pleasantly the antiqueand old-fashioned watering-place, yet it cannot be denied that Spaitself has lost much of the gaiety and flaring splendour whichcharacterised it in the wild gaming days of the past. In the SalleLevoz, where the gilding is faded and the hangings ragged, lords, dukes,and
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