of thedensest woods in the district, called Geddington Chase, and afterwardsskirted the river for some distance to Stanion mill, and thence by thehigh road to the village.
"You have been to London," she exclaimed in a low voice as soon as wewere safely out of hearing from the Hall. "Well, did you recollect whatI told you?"
"I did, and I acted according to your directions," was my quiet answer.
"And what did the woman say?" she inquired, turning to me eagerly, herface suddenly anxious and changed.
"She told me nothing. She refused to speak."
"Ah!" my idol gasped, and I saw the light of hope at once die from hercountenance. "As I expected! Just as I feared!"
"She says she cannot yet tell the truth," I hastened to explain. "But Ihave made a compact with her."
"How?"
Then I explained how I had discovered the house in Britten Streetwatched by the police; and how I had been able to give the Frenchwomanwarning.
"But," I said, "will you pardon me, Lolita, if I remark upon one mostpeculiar circumstance?"
She started visibly and held her breath, for the tragedy had never beenmentioned between us, and it seemed as though she feared I would broachit.
"You will recollect," I went on, "that when I met you early yesterdaymorning you were accompanied by a man who--"
"Ah, you saw him, then!" she gasped, interrupting me.
"I did. And moreover I met that same man in Mademoiselle's company lastnight."
"With her!" she cried. "Never! Why, he doesn't know her."
"I met them walking together on the Chelsea Embankment," I persisted ina quiet tone, wondering the reason of her utter amazement.
"How? Where? Tell me all about it?" she urged quickly. "There'smystery here."
In obedience to her wish I explained the circumstances just as I havealready recorded them; how I had first implored her to divulge hersecret, and then in order to threaten her, had called the police,afterwards making a solemn compact with her and allowing them both toescape.
She heard me in silence to the end, nervously pulling her veil beneathher chin and twisting it to keep it tight. Then sighing, she remarked,turning her wonderful eyes upon me--
"She is not the woman to keep any promise, Willoughby. It is just as Ifeared! She is afraid to tell the truth lest she herself should suffer.Her words only confirm that."
I recalled what she had said, and was bound to agree.
"But surely," I cried, "the outlook is not so black as you anticipate?If this woman, in order to safeguard herself, refuses to speak, arethere not other means by which the truth could be revealed?"
"No--none!" was her despairing answer as she shook her head.
"Perhaps I acted unwisely in allowing them to slip through the fingersof the police?" I suggested.
"No. It was wise, very wise. Had they been arrested they would bothhave sought to seriously incriminate me--and--and the blow would havefallen. I--I should have killed myself to avoid arrest," she added inthe low hoarse voice of a woman absolutely desperate.
"Oh, don't speak like that, Lolita," I urged earnestly. "Recollect youhave at least in me a true and loyal friend. I will defend you by everymeans in my power. You refuse to tell me this strange secret of yours;nevertheless I am ready to serve you without seeking to penetrate themystery which you are so determined to withhold."
"I would tell you everything if I dared," she assured me with a sweetgrateful look upon her countenance, and I saw that upon her veil ateardrop glistened. I saw too how agitated she was, and how she longedto take me entirely into her confidence--yet dared not do so. Why, Iwondered, had she made no remark upon the tragedy or upon the Coroner'sverdict that morning. Was that, too, a subject which she dare notmention?
I glanced at the boots she was wearing, and saw that they were smalldark-brown ones but with those same Louis XV heels that had left suchtell-tale traces.
"Is your secret such a terrible one that you fear to entrust it to me?"I asked gravely after a brief pause.
"You couldn't understand--you couldn't believe the real facts even if Itold you," was her reply. "Besides, this refusal of the woman Lejeuneprevents me knowing the real truth myself. She intends that I shallsuffer--that I shall pay the penalty of the crime of another. She vowedrevenge and, alas!" she sighed, "she has it now."
"But she's quite a common person," I remarked, for knowing the Continentas I did, and being some thing of a cosmopolitan, I put her down as ofthe lower class.
"It is her foreign ill-breeding that renders her such a bitter enemy.She has no pity and no remorse--indeed what Frenchwoman has?"
"Then I was a fool to let her escape! Had I known, I would have giventhe pair into the detective's hands and faced the worst."
"And by so doing you would have caused my death!" was her low remark ina hard strained voice. We had climbed the hill and arrived at the edgeof Geddington Chase, where we halted at the old weather-worn stile whichgave entrance to the wood.
"Yet by allowing them to escape it seems that I have unwittingly beentheir accessory!" I remarked. "You do not anticipate that this womanLejeune will reveal the truth and thus place you in a position ofsafety. Therefore, why should we shield her?"
"I feel sure she will not--now that she is friendly with Joseph Logan."
"You mean the man who was with you at early morning?"
She nodded in the affirmative, and with a sigh declared: "The interestsof the pair are entirely identical. Even if she wished to reveal whatshe knew, he would prevent her. I never anticipated that they wouldbecome acquainted and thus unite their evil intentions against myself!"
"Against you?" I cried. "Why?"
"It is an intrigue--a vile and ingenious plot against myself and certainpersons who are innocent and unoffending. Ah! If you only knew thewoman Lejeune as I have reason to know her, you would not ask such aquestion. You, too, would be well aware that the man or womanunfortunate enough to fall into her cunningly-devised pitfalls may atonce abandon all hope of the future--for death alone can release themfrom the bond." I failed to understand the true meaning of those wordswhich sounded to my ears so wild and tragic. The mystery of it wasall-consuming. I tried to discern some light through the dark cloudthat had so suddenly fallen and enveloped my well-beloved, but all wasutterly inscrutable.
We crossed the stile and walked on into the dim lonely gloom of theChase. I took her hand and felt that she was trembling. Of what, Iwondered, was she in fear? Was it because of the sudden return of thatrough seafarer, Richard Keene? Was it of some denunciation that couldbe made by Mademoiselle Lejeune; or was it because of what had occurreddown in that damp hollow behind the beeches in the south avenue--thatspot that bore the imprint of her shoes?
"Lolita," I said at last in a soft, low voice, "are you aware of theterrible affair--I mean the discovery in the park?"
"Yes," was her mechanical answer, without, however, daring to look me inthe face. "I have heard all about it."
"Well," I said, "the unfortunate young man is unidentified except--" andI hesitated.
"Except what?" she gasped quickly. "What have they discovered?"
"They have discovered nothing," I assured her. "But I myself havediscovered that the man now dead pawned, a year ago, your amethyst andpearl necklet--the one your father, the Earl, gave you for a birthdaypresent in India, and, further, that he wore upon his finger a ringcontaining your portrait!"
"The police!--do they know these facts?" she gasped, halting and glaringat me.
"They are known only to myself," I answered in a grave, low tone. "Whathave you to say?" For a moment she stood with her countenance blanchedto the lips, and a strange haunted look in her eyes. Summoning all hercourage, her gloved fingers clenching themselves into the palms, shebowed her head and answered hoarsely--
"I have nothing to say--nothing--nothing!"
I stood in silence regarding her, utterly mystified. Was it guilt thatwas written so vividly upon he
r face, or was it the fierce desperationof an innocent woman hounded to her death?
Ah! had I known the startling truth at that moment, how differentlywould I have acted!
CHAPTER TWELVE.
LOVE AND LOLITA.
To press her further was out of the question. I had sufficientlyexplained that I held the knowledge to myself, and that I did not intendto divulge to the police what I had discovered.
That she had been fully aware of the unknown's death was quite plain andequally so that she feared lest the inquiries might lead the police inher direction.
The silent manner in
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