Till the Clock Stops

by J. J. Bell

  CHAPTER XXI

  In the train, nearing London, Alan and Teddy yawned simultaneously,caught each other's eye, and grinned.

  "We've had a deuce of a talk," said Alan, "and I hope you feel wiser, forI don't. How much simpler it would all have been had my uncle refrainedfrom those explicit instructions respecting Bullard. We've actually gotto be tender with the man until that blessed clock stops."

  "But oh, what a difference afterwards!--though I doubt if we'll ever getanything like even with the beggar. By the way, about the Green Box--"

  "Don't return to it!"

  "I must, old chap. Do you still take that warning wire seriously? Youdon't think now that it was sent by Bullard for purposes of his own?"

  "I feel that the warning was genuine and not Bullard's. Yet who couldhave sent it? Lancaster? Doris? ... But how should they know there wasanything changed about the box? Also, was it Bullard who was in the housethe night before last? It was certainly not he who went for Caw.... Oh,Lord, we're beginning all over again! Let's chuck it for the present.And, I say, Teddy, won't you come with me to Earl's Gate after we've hadsome grub?"

  "Thanks, no. I've made up my mind to have another dose of shadowing ourfriend. Ten to one I have no luck, but instinct calls."

  "It's jolly good of you, and I'm afraid it's going to be a filthy nightof fog. Well, when shall I see you?"

  "Depends. Don't wait up for me. To-morrow is included in my leave, andthe next day is Sunday, so we are not pressed for time."

  "Consider what I said about your coming to Grey House for the winter.You could help me in many ways. Of course, I don't want you to riskyour prospects at the office, not to mention your person, and you mustallow me to--"

  "I'll see what can be done. You know I'm keen to see the thing through.By the way, I needn't remind you to be mighty slim to-night so far asMrs. Lancaster is concerned. She represents Bullard in that house. Youspoke of inviting Lancaster to return North with you for a change ofscene, and Heaven knows the old chap must need it; but don't you thinksuch an invitation might simply mean upsetting the whole boiling of fatinto the fire? Bullard--"

  "And don't you think that the sooner we have the flare up thebetter?--Oh, hang! I keep on forgetting about that clock!"

  "Lucky blighter! However, it's your affair, and the change might beLancaster's salvation. He'll never get any peace for his poor weary soulwhere he is."

  "You are fond of the man, Teddy?"

  "Always liked him," Teddy answered, a trifle shortly. "Not so fond as youare, judging from what you're doing for him."

  "Oh, drop that! I suppose there's no likelihood of getting them all tocome North?"

  "Can you imagine Mrs. Lancaster existing for a week without crowds ofpeople and shops and theatres?"

  "Well, we'll see," said Alan. "I--I'll consult Doris about it."

  Ten minutes later they were in the Midland Hotel. Alan found a telegramfrom Caw--"Nothing doing,"--and received a legal-looking person who hadbeen awaiting his arrival.

  * * * * *

  Time, the kindly concealer, is also the pitiless exposer. How often inthe Arctic had Alan imagined, with his whole being athrill, this reunionwith the girl who, in the last strained moment of parting, had promisedto wait for him! How often had Doris, in the secrecy of her soul, evenwhen the last hope of reunion had failed, repeated the promise as thoughthe spirit of her lost lover could hear! And now fate had set these twoonce more face to face, and--neither was quite sure. Emotion indeed wastheirs, joy and thankfulness, but passionate rapture--no! A clasping ofhands, a kiss after ever so slight a hesitation, and the embrace thatboth had dreamed of was somehow evaded.

  "You haven't changed, Alan, except to look bigger and stronger," sheremarked, after a little while.

  "And you are more lovely than ever, Doris," he said; and now he couldhave embraced her just for her sheer grace and beauty. He was angry withhimself and not a little humbled, for he had never really doubted hislove for Doris. Her comparative calmness troubled rather than woundedhim, for his faith in her was not yet faltering like his faith inhimself, and he wondered whether her calmness was born of girl's pride orwoman's insight. Nevertheless, amid all doubts and questionings his mainpurpose remained unwavering: he was here to ask Doris to marry him assoon as possible, so that he might rescue her and her father from thedifficulties besetting them.

  As for Doris, her mind was working almost at cross purposes with his.Apart from the double barrier created by her father's unhappy positionand her promise to Bullard, she knew that she could not willinglymarry Alan, for at last it was given her to realise why the first newsof his safety, as told by Teddy France, had failed to glorify her ownlittle world.

  She had seated herself, bidding him with a gesture to do the same,and now they were placed with the width of the hearth between them.She was the first to break the silence that had followed a fewrather conventional remarks from either side, and it cost her aneffort. She was pale.

  "Alan, I wish to thank you for your message to father in Teddy'stelegram. I--I think it saved him. But--please let me go on--I want to bequite sure that Teddy told you everything that mattered."

  "Everything I need know, Doris. I wish you wouldn't distress yourself.It's going to be all right, you know. How is your father to-night?"

  "I think he will be well enough to see you to-morrow," she replied, andwent on to ask a number of questions very painful to her. When he hadanswered the last of them in the affirmative, she sighed and said: "Then,Alan, I think, I hope, you do know nearly all, and I can only beg you tobelieve that father never meant to injure _you_ in any way. It was notuntil there was no hope left of your being alive that he--"

  "Doris, I implore you not to talk about it. Mr. Lancaster was my goodfriend in the old days, and I trust he is that still. When I see himto-morrow I shall have to depend on that friendship, because, you see,Doris, I shall want--with your permission--to ask a great favour of him."

  On the girl's tired lovely face a flush came--and went. "Alan, this is notime for misunderstandings," she said bravely, "and when you have a talkwith father, I wish you to--to try to forget me."

  "Forget you! ... Ah! you mean you do not wish me to refer to your part inhelping him--"

  "Oh," she cried hastily, "I was afraid, after all, Teddy would not tellyou one thing--"

  "It can't matter in the least, dear Doris. What I want to ask your fatheris simply his blessing on us both in our engage--"

  "For pity's sake, no! Listen, Alan; and don't think too unkindly of me,for I have promised to marry Mr. Bullard--"

  "Doris!"

  "--a year from now." She bowed her head.

  He was on his feet, standing over her. "Bullard!" he exclaimed at last,"Bullard! Good Lord, Doris! Had that fat successful gambler actually theimpudence to ask you to marry him?"

  "Oh, hush!" she whispered. "The fact remains that I gave my promise."

  He drew a long breath. "Of course you gave your promise, and the reason'splain enough to me! You gave it for your father's sake!" As in a flash hesaw what she had suffered. Teddy's story had told him much, but this! ...His heart swelled, overflowed with that which is so akin to love that inthe moment of stress it is love's double.

  And this young man, casting aside his doubts of himself, caught in apassion evoked by beauty in distress and hot human sympathy, fell on hisknees, murmuring endearments, and took this young woman, with all herdoubts of herself, to his breast.

  And Doris let herself go. Doubts or no doubts, right or wrong, it wassweet and comforting, after long wearing anxiety and arid loneliness, tofind refuge in the strong, gentle arms of one who cared. But it was alull that could not last.

  "Dear," he was saying when she stirred uneasily, "you shall never marryhim! Why, you don't even need to break your promise, for we will see toit that he shall never dare to ask you to fulfil it. Leave Mr. FrancisBullard to Teddy and me."

  "Alan, this is madness!" She drew away from him. "How could I
forget?Father is so completely in his power."

  "But we are going to rescue him, you and I, thanks to good old Teddy."

  She shook her head. "Ah, no, Alan, you are too hopeful."

  Alan was puzzled. "Didn't you and he understand my message to him inTeddy's wire?" he asked at length.

  "We understood that you--you forgave everything. Oh, it was kind andgenerous of you!"

  "Was that all?" Alan got up and stood looking down at the fire. "I didn'twant to say a word about it," he said presently. "I hoped Mr. Lancasterat least, would take my meaning. It's horrid having to discuss it withyou, Doris, but Teddy mentioned something about a--a debt--"

  "Oh!" It was a cry of pain. "Teddy must have misunderstood me. Inever meant--"

  "Teddy did it for the best, you may be sure, and I'm grateful to him. Letme go on, dear. It is this debt that gives Bullard the upper hand--is itnot? Twenty-five thousand, Teddy mentioned as the amount."

  "Don't!--don't!" She hid her face.

  "And so--and so I just brought the money along with me." He cleared histhroat. "And Mr. Lancaster will be a free man to-morrow. Doris, for God'ssake, don't take it like that!"

  She was not weeping, but her slim body seemed rent.

  "Doris, since you are going to marry me, what could be more natural thanthat I should want to help your dearest one out of his trouble? I'vemore money than I need--honestly." He laid his hand on her shoulder."Dear little girl," he continued, with a kindly laugh, "you've no ideahow difficult it is to speak about it. And I can't carry the thingthrough myself; simply couldn't open the subject to him and offer themoney. I want you to help me--and at once. I suppose he is strong enoughto bear a small surprise. So I want you to go now and tell him, and--andgive him these. I brought notes, you know, because they are moreprivate." His free hand dropped a packet into her lap. Amazing howlittle space is required for twenty-five thousand pounds in Bank ofEngland notes! "Doris!"

  She did not raise her head, but her hands went up to her shoulder andtook his hand between them. Hers were cold.

  "My dearest!" he cried softly.

  "Oh, Alan, Alan," she said in a dry whisper. "I shall never get overthis, I will never forget your goodness. But I can't--I _can't_ do it."

  "Yes, you can, dear. I know it's hard. I know it means sinkingyour pride--"

  "Pride!--have I any left?"

  "Plenty--and plenty to be proud of! Help me to remove your father'strouble, and we shall all be happy again. Just think that you are puttingfreedom into his hand--"

  "Have mercy, Alan!"

  "Dearest, is it too hard? Well, well, I must do it myself, after all.Only that will mean so many more troubled hours for him.... Doris, youwill do it, for his sake and mine? After all, what does the whole affairsignify? Simply that you and I will have so much less to spendlater,--and do you mind that?"

  He had won, or, at all events, filial love had won. It is the other sortof love that pride may withstand to the last.

  She did a thing then that he would remember when he was an old man: drewhis hand to her lips. The colour rushed to his face. "Not that, dear!"

  She rose and he supported her, for she was a little _dizzy_ with it all."What am I to say to him, Alan?"

  "Just say that it is merely what my Uncle Christopher would have done,had he known. And tell him to get well quickly, because I want him tocome to Grey House for a change, at the earliest possible day. I want youand Mrs. Lancaster also, Doris. Will you come?"

  She shook her head. "I'm afraid--"

  "Never mind now. I'll write to Mrs. Lancaster to-night, and perhaps I maysee her to-morrow."

  "You--you won't tell her about this, Alan?"

  "Certainly not. I've forgotten about it," he said, with a smile intendedto be encouraging. "And I'll go at once. Perhaps that will make it alittle easier for you. As soon as you've seen your father, you ought toturn in. Will you?"

  She attempted to smile, but her voice was grave. "I will do anything youwish--now and always. I can't thank you, Alan dear, but God knows--" Shecould say no more.

  "You dear little girl," he said, rather wildly, "there's just one thingyou must be quite clear about. This miserable money may buy your father'speace of mind, but it has not bought one hair of your beautiful head." Hetook her in his arms and kissed her. "Sleep well ... till to-morrow!"

  Her mind was still in turmoil as she went up the broad staircase,clutching against her bosom the precious packet, but her eyes were wet atlast. Her father was saved! For herself she had no thought.

  She halted at the door of his room, listening. It was essential that heshould be alone.... She started violently.

  Another door on the landing opened and Mrs. Lancaster came forth.

  "Surely Mr. Craig has not gone already," she said. "I am justgoing down."

  "He has gone, mother, but he hopes to see you tomorrow."

  "Too bad! He can't have told you all his adventures, Doris." Thus farMrs. Lancaster had learned nothing beyond the bare facts of Alan's returnand his intention to call.

  "I think he is keeping them for you and father," said the girl, strivingfor composure. "He wants us all to go to Grey House as soon as father iswell enough to travel."

  "At this time of year?--absurd, or, at all events, impossible!--for youand me, at any rate. Has Mr. Craig not been made aware of your engagementto Mr. Bullard?"

  "I thought we had agreed not to talk of that." Doris laid her fingers onthe door-handle.

  Mrs. Lancaster came a little closer. "Is that a letter for your father?The last post must have been late?"

  The strain was telling on Doris; she gave a nervous assent.

  "Ah, it has not come by post, I see! Why it is not even addressed tohim!"

  "It is for him."

  "From Mr. Craig?"

  "Yes."

  "If it is anything exciting, he ought not to have it to-night. It willspoil his chances of getting to sleep."

  "I--I don't think so, mother."

  "My dear girl, you ought to be perfectly certain, one way or another. Isimply cannot trust you. Leave it with me, and you can give it him inthe morning."

  Doris felt faint. "I can take care of it, but I'm sure it won't do himany harm. I will--"

  With a swift movement of her supple body and arm the woman possessedherself of the packet. At the feel, the almost imperceptible sound, of ither eyes gleamed, her dusky colouring darkened.

  "Mother!" gasped Doris.

  "I cannot risk having your father upset. You can ask me for it inthe morning."

  "Mother!" Impelled by a most hideous fear the daughter sprang, clutched,missed--and fell like a lifeless thing.

  Mrs. Lancaster rang for her maid.

  When Doris came hazily to herself she was in bed.

  "Drink this, my dear," said her mother gently.

  It was a powerful sleeping draught, and soon the girl's brain was underits subjection.

  * * * * *

  About ten o'clock Mrs. Lancaster, in her boudoir, rang up Bullard, firstat his hotel, then at his office, whence she obtained a response.

  "Can you come here at once?" she asked him.

  "Impossible! Anything urgent?"

  "Alan Craig has been here."

  "... Well?"

  "He knows about--things. I'm sure he does."

  "For instance?"

  "Robert's difficulties."

  "No special harm in that, is there? He won't be alone in his knowledgefor long, you know--"

  "What do you mean?" she cried in alarm.

  He ignored the question and asked another. "Was Craig in any wayunpleasant? Quick, please!"

  "I didn't see him, but I should imagine he was quite the reverse. Theservant Caw must have kept back things. Doris tells me he wants the threeof us to go to Grey House--"

  "What? To Grey House?"

  "Of course, I should never dream--"

  "Great Heavens, how extremely fortunate for you! My dear Mrs. Lancaster,you must accept the inv
itation at once. Don't let it slip. Have yourhusband well enough to start in the beginning of the week."

  "Are you crazy? What should I do at Grey House?"

  "I'll tell you precisely what you may do--but not now. For the present Ishould inform you that it may be your last chance of salvation."

  "What on earth do you mean? Not the dia--"

  "Listen carefully! I have already told you of the disaster to themines--"

  "But all that will come right in time."

  "One may hope so. In the meantime, however, the Syndicate will requireall its available funds, and, as you know, there is a matter of nearlytwenty-five thousand pounds, which Mr. Lancaster--"

  For a moment the woman was incoherent. Then--"Mr. Bullard, we have yourpromise that you would see that matter put right."

  "My dear lady, this calamity was not to be foreseen. I am unspeakablysorry, but I have been hard hit, and the plain truth is that I am quitepowerless for the present. Of course I shall do what I can todelay--er--discovery, but unfortunately I must leave for South Africa onFriday, this day week."

  "Then all is lost! Ruin--disgrace--"

  "Not so loud, please. Be calm. All may not yet be lost--if you atonce accept young Craig's invitation. Now let us leave it at that.To-night I am distracted by a thousand things, but I will call in themorning to enquire for your husband and, incidentally, to make thingsclearer to you."

  "Can't you explain now? I shan't be able to sleep--"

  "No.... But, by the way, it would do no harm were your husband to askCraig, if he is really friendly, for a loan. If I'm any judge of men,Craig is the sort of silly fool who, because he has come into a bit ofmoney, is ready to give lots of it away. However, you can suggest it toyour husband, if you like. How is he to-night?"

  "I think he is better, but he was so excitable a little while ago that Ihad to give him some sleeping medicine. He is sleeping now."

  "Sooner or later, you know, he has got to be told of the Johannesburgdisaster. What about getting Doris to break it?"

  After a pause--"I'll see," said Mrs. Lancaster, "but I do wish you wouldgive me some idea--"

  "You really must excuse me. I hear some one coming in to see me. Tillto-morrow--good-bye!"

  Mrs. Lancaster, her handsome face haggard, lay back in her chair andfor a space of minutes remained perfectly motionless. At last herlips moved--

  "Whatever happens, I shall have twenty-five thousand pounds."