*CHAPTER XXXI*
*A QUESTION OF HONOUR*
The thing was done beyond recall. Wilfrid had only to look into theface of his companion to see that everything seemed plain to her as anopen book. He had been rummaging amongst her uncle's papers for thecompromising document. He had it in his hand at that moment.
What would he have done with it had Beatrice not appeared? Would hehave yielded to temptation or not? For the life of him Wilfrid couldnot say. He tried to think that he would have put the matter behindhim. But he had not done so; he had not even attempted to do so. For asecond or two he had even tried to justify himself in a course of actionwhich would have been distinctly dishonourable. If he had gone down onhis knees and made a full confession to Beatrice he could have told herno more than she already knew.
He glanced into her face, eager to see if there was any sympathy in hereyes. But Beatrice's face was stern and set. There was a compressionof her lips that he had not noticed before. He could not know howdeeply wounded and disappointed she was. She could not add anything tothe humiliation which he was then suffering.
"You wish me to go?" he stammered.
"Would it not be better?" she said scornfully. "Is it not a pity youever came at all?"
"Perhaps it was," Wilfrid said, stung to retort. "But if fortune hadnever brought us together again Samuel Flower would have been in hisgrave by now. Had we not met once more I should have been spared anenemy whose sole desire it is to ruin me. Then, at the appointed time,I might have sought you out and, in the language of the fairystories----"
Wilfrid paused, conscious that he was going a little too far. He sawthe vivid colour creep into Beatrice's cheeks, but there was norelaxation of her lips.
"Go on," she said. "You might as well finish."
"And live happily ever afterwards," Wilfrid said defiantly. "You thinkI have done a wrong thing to-day, and possibly I have. May you be everspared such a temptation as has been placed in my way during the lasthalf-hour! You cannot understand these things. Brought up as you havebeen how could you make allowance for people in dire trouble? Oh, nevermind the nurse; she can wait a few minutes. Since I have gone so far Imust finish. Whether you like it or not, you shall hear all that I haveto say. It is only due to me that you should."
Beatrice hesitated. Wilfrid's voice thrilled with passion, his wordsrang with sincerity. It was almost impossible to believe that a mandistinguished for bravery should stoop to common theft. The hesitancypassed and Beatrice turned away.
"What is the good of it?" she cried. "What do I gain by hearing you?And, surely, this is a wrong time and place for a confession----"
"A confession!" Wilfrid echoed scornfully. "I was going to make noconfession. But bring in the nurse, so that I may explain what she hasto do; after that I will detain you very little longer. Perhaps you areright."
There was no sign of heat or passion on Wilfrid's face as he shook handswith the nurse. She looked white and fragile for so difficult a task,but that was no business of his. Perhaps the nurse guessed what waspassing through his mind, for she smiled at him unsteadily.
"I shall be all right," she said. "Dr. Shelton is a very good friend ofmine. He knows that I have been ill for some time, and I am sure hewould not send me a troublesome case. I know exactly what to do, thankyou."
Wilfrid had only to take his departure. He had received his dismissal.He was not likely to see Beatrice again, therefore he could devote allhis energies to the great fight before him. Nevertheless, he lingered inthe hall on the off-chance of a last word with Beatrice, nor was hedisappointed. The dining-room door opened in hesitating fashion and shestood before him. The hard, proud look had left her face now; her lipsinclined to quiver.
"I cannot part with you like this," she murmured. "I have been thinkingof what you said just now, and perhaps I am disposed to judge otherpeople harshly."
"Did you ever know any prosperous man or woman who didn't?" Wilfred saidwith a bitter smile. "Oh, it maddens me to hear people prating theirhonesty when they have everything to make the path of existence smooth.Does it never strike these smug Pharisees that they would be born foolsto be anything but honest? Why, there are thousands of criminals whodie honourable and respected, either because they have never been foundout or because they have never been under the necessity of knowingtemptation. Take your case. What has your life been--one constantround of pleasure, a succession of years during which you have hadeverything you wanted and have been denied nothing? Do you suppose thatyou are any better than I am? Suppose you had somebody wholly dependentupon you for the mere necessaries of life, would you pry too minutelyinto things? But I am forgetting myself."
"Is it as bad as that?" Beatrice whispered.
"I can see no difference," Wilfrid said wearily. "If it were myselfalone it would not matter. My household might be wrecked and everythingtaken away from me with impunity, because I have health and strength andwould smile at the scandals of a place like Oldborough. But for thelast four or five years I have promised my mother that I would settledown on shore and be near her in her old age. But why worry you withall this? Why should I picture her delight and pleasure in the new homeshe has to look after, which she regards merely as the beginning of myprosperity? And now I must go home to-night and tell her the bittertruth. I shall have to let her know that I have been deceiving her fromthe first, and that my so-called home is really the property ofstrangers. A few moments ago I had it in my power to secure that home.I had only to take a certain piece of paper and drop it in the fire andthere would have been an end of the matter."
"That was when I came in," Beatrice whispered.
She was interested in spite of herself. She began to see there might besomething in Wilfrid's point of view, and it was really dreadful that arich man like Samuel Flower should stoop to crush another who waspowerless to help himself. Indignation was warming Beatrice's blood. Toher it almost seemed that Wilfrid would have been justified in hisaction. She turned towards him eagerly.
"But, surely, something can be done," she said. "I blame myself for nothaving seen your mother. If you will remember I promised to call uponher, but, really, there has been very little opportunity. Perhaps whenwe get back to Oldborough----"
"You forget that there will be no Oldborough for me after to-day,"Wilfrid said quietly. "I am going to see this thing through to thebitter end, and your uncle and his tool, Cotter, can do what theyplease. Well, what is it?"
Wilfrid turned impatiently as a maid-servant came into the dining-room.The girl seemed to be distressed.
"Please, sir, it's the nurse," she said. "She doesn't seem at all well.She asked me to see if you had gone. Perhaps you wouldn't mind goingupstairs again."
Though unwillingly, Wilfrid went back to the bedroom where Flower waslying. A regular conspiracy of circumstances had combined to keep himin that dreadful house. He found the nurse standing at the foot of thebed gazing at her patient with a white face and tearful eyes. Flowerwas sitting up now glaring about him and muttering strange things.
"Oh, I am so glad you have come," the nurse said. "I am afraid I shallnot be able to manage this case. I am not as strong as I thought I was.I don't know what to make of the patient. He has been violent more thanonce since you went downstairs. I dare not be left alone."
Wilfrid's ill-nature vanished as he glanced at the pathetic face of thespeaker. He forgot his own pressing affairs. He only knew that afellow-creature in trouble was appealing to him for sympathy and help.
"Very well," he said, "I will do what I can. Go downstairs to thedining-room and tell Miss Galloway I sent you. Ask her to give you aglass of wine, and then go and telephone at once to Dr. Shelton, lettinghim know what has happened. Don't worry. I will see that no harm comesto the patient till some one more suitable takes your place."
The nurse stole thankfully away, and once again Wilfrid was alone withhis deadliest
enemy.
The Five Knots Page 31
