that dream-marriage, is it not?"
"Exactly," she faltered.
"You do not recollect the name announced by the clergyman, as that ofyour husband?" I inquired, eagerly.
"I heard it but once, and it was strange and unusual; the droning voicestumbled over it indistinctly, therefore I could not catch it."
She was in ignorance that she was my bride. Her heart was beatingrapidly, the lace on her bosom trembled as she slowly lifted her eyes tomine. Could she ever love me?
A thought of young Chetwode stung me to the quick. He was my rival, yetI was already her husband.
"I have been foolish to tell you all this," she said presently, with anervous laugh. "It was only a dream--a dream so vivid that I havesometimes thought it was actual truth."
Her speech was the softest murmur, and the beautiful face, nearer tomine than it had been before, was looking at me with beseechingtenderness. Then her eyes dropped, a martyr pain passed over her face,her small hands sought each other as though they must hold something,the fingers clasped themselves, and her head drooped.
"I am glad you have told me," I said. "The incident is certainlycurious, judged in connexion with the unusual phenomena of last night."
"Yes, but I ought not to have told you," she said slowly. "Nora will bevery angry."
"Why?"
"Because she made me promise to tell absolutely no one," she answered,with a faint sharpness in her voice. There were loss and woe in thosewords of hers.
"What motive had she in preserving your secret?" I asked, surprised."Surely she is--"
My love interrupted me.
"No, do not let us discuss her motives or her actions; she is my friend.Let us not talk of the affair any more, I beg of you."
She was pale as death, and it seemed as though a tremor ran through allher limbs.
"But am I not also your friend, Miss Wynd?" I asked in deepseriousness.
"I--I hope you are."
Her voice was timid, troubled; but her sincere eyes again liftedthemselves to mine.
"I assure you that I am," I declared. "If you will but give me yourpermission I will continue, with Hoefer, to seek a solution of thispuzzling problem."
"It is so uncanny," she said. "To me it surpasses belief."
"I admit that. At present, to leave that room is to invite death. Wemust, therefore, make active researches to ascertain the truth. We mustfind your strange visitor in black."
"Find her?" she gasped. "You could never do that."
"Why not? She is not supernatural; she lives and is in hidingsomewhere, that's evident."
"And you would find her, and seek from her the truth?"
"Certainly."
She shut her lips tight and sat motionless, looking at me. Then at lastshe said, shuddering--
"No. Not that."
"Then you know this woman--or at least you guess her identity," I saidin a low voice.
She gazed at me with parted lips.
"I have already told you that I do not know her," was her firm response.
"Then what do you fear?" I demanded.
Again she was silent. Whatever potential complicity had lurked in herheart, my words brought her only immeasurable dismay.
"I dread such an action for your own sake," she faltered.
"Then I will remain till your cousin comes, and ask her what it is."
"Ask her?"
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
A SAVANT AT HOME.
"Why should I not ask your cousin?" I inquired earnestly. "I see byyour manner that you are in sore need of a friend, and yet you will notallow me to act as such."
"Not allow you!" she echoed. "You are my friend. Were it not for you Ishould have died last night."
"Your recovery was due to Hoefer, not to myself," I declared.
I longed to speak to her of her visit to Whitton and of her relationswith the Major, but dare not. By so doing I should only expose myselfas an eavesdropper and a spy. Therefore, I was held to silence.
My thoughts wandered back to that fateful night when I was called to thehouse with the grey front in Queen's-gate Gardens. That house, she hadtold me, was the home of "a friend." I remembered how, after ourmarriage, I had seen her lying there as one dead, and knew that she hadfallen the victim of some foul and deep conspiracy. Who was that manwho had called himself Wyndham Wynd? An associate of the Major's, whowas careful in the concealment of his identity. The manner in which theplot had been arranged was both amazing in its ingenuity and bewilderingin its complications.
And lounging before me there in the low silken chair, her small mouthslightly parted, displaying an even set of pearly teeth, sat thevictim--the woman who was unconsciously my wedded wife.
Her attitude towards me was plainly one of fear lest I should discoverher secret. It was evident that she now regretted having told me ofthat strange, dreamlike scene which was photographed so indelibly uponher memory, that incident so vivid that she vaguely believed she hadbeen actually wedded.
"So you are returning to Atworth again?" I asked, for want of somethingbetter to say.
"I believe that is Nora's intention," she responded quickly, with aslight sigh of relief at the change in our conversation.
"Have you many visitors there?"
"Oh, about fifteen--all rather jolly people. It's such a charmingplace. Nora must ask you down there."
"I should be delighted," I said.
Now that I had money in my pocket, and was no longer compelled to toilfor the bare necessities of life, I was eager to get away from the heatand dust of the London August. This suggestion of hers was to me doublywelcome too, for as a visitor at Atworth I should be always beside her.That she was in peril was evident, and my place was near her.
On the other hand, however, I distrusted her ladyship. She had, at thefirst moment of our meeting, shown herself to be artificial and anadmirable actress. Indeed, had she not, for purposes known best toherself, endeavoured to start a flirtation with me? Her charactereverywhere was that of a smart woman--popular in society, and noted forthe success of her various entertainments during the season; but womenof her stamp never commended themselves to me. Doctors, truth to tell,see rather too much of the reverse of the medal--especially in socialLondon.
"When did you return from Wiltshire?" I inquired, determined to clearup one point.
"The day before yesterday," she responded.
"In the evening?"
"No, in the morning."
Then her ladyship had lied to me, for she had said they had arrived inLondon on the morning of the day when the unknown woman in black hadcalled. Beryl had told the truth, and her words were proved by thestatement of Bob Raymond that he had seen her pass along Rowan Road.
Were they acquaintances? As I reflected upon that problem one factalone stood out above all others. If I had been unknown to Wynd andthat scoundrel Tattersett, how was it that they were enabled to giveevery detail regarding myself in their application for the marriagelicence? How, indeed, did they know that I was acting as Bob's _locumtenens_? Or how was the Tempter so well aware of my penury?
No. Now that my friend had betrayed himself, I felt convinced that heknew something of the extraordinary plot in which I had become sohopelessly involved.
"The day before yesterday," I said, looking her straight in the face,"you came to Hammersmith to try to find me."
She started quickly, but in an instant recovered herself.
"Yes," she admitted. "I walked through Rowan Road, expecting to findyour plate on one of the doors, but could not."
"I have no plate," I answered. "When I lived there I was assistant tomy friend. Doctor Raymond."
"Raymond!" she exclaimed. "Oh yes, I remember I saw his name; but I waslooking for yours."
"You wished to see me?"
"Yes; I was not well," she faltered.
"But your cousin knew that I had lived with Raymond. Did you not askher?"
"No," she answered, "it ne
ver occurred to me to do so."
Rather a lame response, I thought.
"But last night she found me quite easily. She called upon DoctorRaymond, who gave her my new address." And, continuing, I told her ofmy temporary abode.
"I know," she replied.
"Have you ever met my friend Raymond?" I inquired with an air ofaffected carelessness.
"Not to my knowledge," she answered quite frankly.
"How long ago did Hoefer leave?" I asked.
"About an hour, I think. He has locked the door of the morning-room andtaken the key with him," she added, laughing.
She presented a pretty picture, indeed, in that
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