CHAPTER XXI
AT THE MERCY OF A DEMON
Some time later Anne seated herself at her writing-table.
The idea of writing to her husband had come to her as an inspiration; notbecause she shirked an interview--she knew that to be inevitable--butbecause she realised that the first step taken thus would make the finaldecision easier for them both.
She did not find it hard to put her thoughts into words. Her mind wasvery clear upon the matter in hand. She knew exactly what she desired tosay. Only upon the subject of her friendship with Nap she could not bringherself to touch. A day earlier she could have spoken of it, even in theface of his hateful suspicion, without restraint. But to-night she couldnot. It was as if a spell of silence had been laid upon her, a spellwhich she dared not attempt to break. She dared not even think of Napjust then.
It was not a very long letter that she wrote, sitting there in thesilence of her room, and it did not take her long to write. But when itwas finished, closed and directed, she sat on with her chin upon herhand, thinking. It seemed scarcely conceivable that he would refuse tolet her go.
She could not imagine herself to be in any sense necessary to him. Shehad helped him with the estate in many ways, but she had done nothingthat a trustworthy agent could not do, save, perhaps, in the matter ofcaring for the poorer tenants. They would miss her, she told herself, butno one else. It was very long since she had entertained any guests at theManor. Sir Giles had offended almost everyone who could ever have claimedthe privilege of intimacy with him. And people wondered openly that hiswife still lived with him. Well, they would not wonder much longer.
And when her life was at her own disposal what would she do with it?
There were many things she might do; as secretary, as companion, asmusic-teacher, as cook. She knew she need not be at a loss. And again theprospect of freedom from a yoke that galled her intolerably made herheart leap.
A slight sound in the passage brought her out of her reverie. She glancedup. It was probably Dimsdale. She would give him the note to deliver tohis master in the morning. She crossed to the door and opened it.
The next instant, in amazement, she drew back. On the threshold, face toface with her, stood her husband!
He did not give her time to speak, but pushed straight forward into theroom as if in haste. His face was white and purple in patches. His eyeswere narrowed and furtive. There was something unspeakably evil in theway they avoided hers. He carried his right hand behind him.
He began to speak at once in quick, staccato tones, with which she wasutterly unfamiliar.
"So you think you are going to escape me, do you? But you won't! No, notfor all the Errols in the world!"
She did not answer him. There was something so utterly unusual in thisabrupt visitation that she knew not how to cope with it. But he scarcelywaited for an answer. He swung the door behind him with a bang.
"Do you remember," he said, his staccato tone merging into one of risingviolence, "a promise I made to you the first time I caught that scoundrelmaking love to you? I swore that if it happened again I'd thrash him.Well, I'm a man who keeps his promises. I've kept that one. And now it'syour turn. I thought at first I'd kill you. But I fancy this will hurtyou more."
His hand shot suddenly out from behind him, and there followed thewhistle of a thong--the thick, leathern thong with which he kept hisdogs in order.
It struck her as she stood before him, struck and curled about hershoulders with a searching, scalding agony that turned her sick, wringingfrom her a cry that would never have been uttered had she been prepared.
But before he could strike again she was ready to cope with his madness.On the instant she sprang, not from him, but to him, clasping his armswith both of hers.
"Giles!" she said, and her voice rang clear and commanding. "You are notyourself. You don't know what you are doing. Look at me! Do you hear?Look at me!"
That was his vulnerable point, and instinctively she knew it. He wasafraid--as a wild animal is afraid--of the compulsion of her eyes. But hefought with her savagely, furiously, refusing to face her, strugglingwith inarticulate oaths to break away from her clinging arms.
And Anne was powerless against him, powerless as Nap had been earlierin the day, to make any impression against his frenzied strength. Shewas impotent as a child in that awful grip, and in a very few secondsshe knew it.
He had already wrung his arm free and raised it to strike a second blow,while she shut her eyes in anguished expectation, still clinging blindlyto his coat, when the door burst open with a crash and Dimsdale toreinto the room.
Anne heard his coming, but she could not turn. She was waiting with everynerve stretched and quivering for the thong to fall. And when it didnot, when Dimsdale, with a strength abnormal for his years, flung himselfat the upraised arm and bore it downwards, she was conscious not ofrelief, but only of a sudden snapping of that awful tension that was likea rending asunder of her very being. She relaxed her hold and totteredback against the wall.
"He will kill you!" she heard herself saying to Dimsdale. "He willkill you!"
But Dimsdale clung like a limpet. Through the surging uproar of herreeling senses Anne heard his voice.
"Sir Giles! Sir Giles! This won't do, sir. You've got a bit beyondyourself. Come along with me, Sir Giles. You are not well. You ought tobe in bed. Now, now, Sir Giles! Give it up! Come! Here's West to helpyou undress."
But Sir Giles fought to be free, cursing hideously, writhing this way andthat with Dimsdale hanging to him; and at sight of the footman hasteningto the old man's assistance he put forth a strength so terrific that heswung him completely off the ground.
"He's too much for me!" shouted Dimsdale. "My lady, go--go, for the loveof heaven! Quick, West! Quick! Trip him! It's the only way! Ah!"
They went down in a fearful, struggling heap. Sir Giles underneath, butmaking so violent a fight that the whole room seemed to shake.
And Anne stood and looked upon the whole ghastly spectacle as oneturned to stone.
So standing, propped against the wall, she saw the young under-footmancome swiftly in, and had a glimpse of his horrified face as he leaptforward to join the swaying, heaving mass of figures upon the floor. Hiscoming seemed to make a difference. Sir Giles's struggles became lessgigantic, became spasmodic, convulsive, futile, finally ceasedaltogether. He lay like a dead man, save that his features twitchedhorribly as if evil spirits were at work upon him.
The whole conflict had occupied but a few minutes, but to the rigidwatcher it had been an eternity of fearful tumult. Yet the hard-breathingsilence that followed was almost more terrible still.
Out of it arose old Dimsdale, wiping his forehead with a shaking hand.
"He didn't hurt your ladyship?" he questioned anxiously.
But she could not take her eyes from the motionless figure upon the flooror answer him.
He drew nearer. "My lady," he said, "come away from here!"
But Anne never stirred.
He laid a very humble hand upon her arm. "Let me take you downstairs," heurged gently. "There's a friend there waiting for your ladyship--afriend as will understand."
"A--friend?" She turned her head stiffly, her eyes still striving toremain fixed upon that mighty, inert form.
"Yes, my lady. He only came a few minutes back. He is waiting in thedrawing-room. It was Sir Giles he asked to see, said it was veryparticular. It was West here took the message to Sir Giles, and I thinkit was that as made him come up here so mad like. I came after him assoon as I heard. But the gentleman is still waiting, my lady. Will yousee him and--explain?"
"Who is the gentleman?" Anne heard the question, but not as if sheherself had uttered it. The voice that spoke seemed to come from animmense distance.
And from equally far seemed to come Dimsdale's answer, though it reachedand pierced her understanding in an instant.
"It's Mr. Errol, my lady,--the crippled one. Mr. Lucas, I thinkhis name is."
Anne turn
ed then as sharply as though a voice had called her.
"Lucas Errol! Is he here? Ah, take me to him! Take me to him!"
And the old butler led her thankfully from the scene.
The Knave of Diamonds Page 21
