The Lonely Stronghold

by Mrs. Baillie Reynolds

  CHAPTER XXXIII

  THE BULL-DROP

  She went to meet him with the feeling that now--now was her chance. Hemust not go until she had inquired as to the exact facts, which heseemed to suppose that she knew already.

  He came to invite herself and Miss Wilson to go down to the docks thefollowing day to inspect one of the great captured enemy ships which waslying there for the inspection of visitors. She accepted theinvitation, and they drifted into talk, which grew by degrees more andmore absorbing. He told her some of his more poignant experiences atthe front, and she gave him a sympathy which he appeared to find mostgratifying. Though he never said a word that could be calledlove-making, she yet felt increasingly that he was wooing her; and thefact that he was doing so with Nin's voice and Nin's smile, and everynow and then with Nin's very expression, filled her with sensations thatshe could not analyse. She was half fascinated, half revolted, and shehad a feeling that if it went on--if she should be much in hissociety--she would succumb to the curious attraction.

  A dozen times she tried to lead round the talk so that she could touchupon the one subject without too great effort.

  In vain. As soon as she found herself within measurable distance of thewords "your brother," her throat began to swell, her heart quickened itsbeat. He had risen to take leave before she was aware.... He had gone,and her chance was over for the present.

  He called the following day, and they motored down to the docks, afterwhich he gave them lunch at the great new Anzac restaurant.

  It was as he was putting them into the car afterwards, and stoodlaughing and animated on the kerbstone making his farewells, that hereyes, straying past his in order not to meet their challenge, fell upona lady whose face seemed familiar to her. The lady in question wasyoung and handsome in a showy way, and as she strolled slowly past Olwenthought her eyes rested upon their party with a look of specialinterest. The impression was momentary, the stranger had moved on andwas lost in the crowd surging thickly on the pavement.

  As they drove home her mind held the picture of the backward glance andthe expression; but sub-consciously, and all mixed up with Wolf's charmand the magnetism of his personality.

  She felt that the hours she and he had passed together that day had madea great, a real difference.

  If matters were to advance at this rate, she must face the situationwhich might ensue. She reached home in restless mood, wondering how topick up once more the thread of a life which seemed to have broken offshort. The war and its resulting activities had filled in at first theblank which lay void after her departure from Guysewyke. Now even thatpalliative was taken away. It showed itself as the mere stopgap that ithad always been. In truth, though peace had returned, life was excitingenough, had she felt that politics and social economy were things thatcould absorb her. She did not so feel. Hers was, like her father's, anature which craved love as its starting-point. The fabric of her lifemust be built on love, so she felt, or go to pieces.

  The Colonel had taken care not to part without an arrangement foranother meeting before long. He was to lunch the following day atOrchard Row, and take the two ladies to see over one of the great newinstitutions prepared for the reception of those permanently disabled inthe war.

  He came accordingly, and the time passed charmingly. Aunt Maud thoughthim the most fascinating man she had ever seen. The situation piquedher curiosity. Not a word of confidence had Olwen given her, not asentence had she ever let fall concerning this man's twin brother withwhom she had spent so many hours at the Pele. Miss Wilson's convictionthat some reason other than what appeared had all along existed for thegirl's sudden departure from her post gained strength every minute.

  As for Olwen, she felt that she was skating on very thin ice. Easilythough Wolf talked, he avoided any mention of his home or his family.He seemed to assume that Olwen knew of his brother's fate, and he didnot allude to it. Their talk was always superficial, gliding lightlyover a surface beneath which were unknown depths.

  That day Wolf asked permission to bring his cousin, Lady Caryngston, tocall upon Miss Wilson and Miss Innes. The plan was carried out verysoon afterwards, and with her ladyship came that Elma Guyse who sostrongly resembled her cousin Ninian that it was agony to Olwen to be inthe same room with her.

  Every minute some tone in her voice, some curve of her mouth, some gleamin her mischievous eye, recalled Nin in his most captivating mood.Olwen's emotion increased every moment. She felt that she could nolonger endure the strain of going on in her present ignorance. Shewould ask Wolf all about Ninian, even though in the attempt she foundherself compelled to betray her own feeling.

  Her chance came, for the Colonel did not depart when the other visitorsleft. Aunt Maud had a committee at half-past five, and so made herescape from the drawing-room, going out of it with the two ladies. Wolfand Olwen found themselves left together; and this was obviously themoment for which she had waited so long. He went to the window,glancing out to see if it rained. Now or never.

  She moistened her dry lips, and was just opening them to pronounce thefatal words, when the Colonel swung round, saying carelessly:

  "By the way, I heard from my brother this morning."

  Silence fell. She hardly breathed for a few moments. Something withinher rose up in tumult, and she had to beat it down. For the secondtime, upon the mention of Nin, she showed Wolf an ashen face.

  "Your ... brother?" she said at last, feeling that at all costs she mustnot betray the extent of her stupefaction.

  "Yes. I think you said you knew what a horrible fate befell him?"

  Weakly she shook her head; she could not speak.

  He seemed surprised. "But I thought, the day we first met, you said youknew----"

  "No, I don't know anything. I beseech you to tell me."

  "Well, but at least you knew he was a prisoner of war?"

  "Not--even--that."

  "Yes; he got taken, poor chap, the very first time he went intoaction--right at the beginning, before we turned them on the Marne. Hewas badly hit, and they picked him up and took him to Griesslauen, themost remote of all the military camps--a place where unheard-of thingswent on.... We didn't know for nearly a year whether he was alive ordead. He was reported missing, you know. Rough luck, wasn't it?"

  "Ye-es. _Rough luck_.... Is he at home now?"

  "Oh, yes; he's been back more than six months now, and his native airhas done a good bit for him; but he's very much changed."

  "Is he--maimed, do you mean--or disfigured?"

  "Oh, no, not as bad as that. He had a horrible suppurating wound in hisleg, the result of neglect and semi-starvation; but the Guysewyke airhealed that in a couple of months. Of course, things are verydepressing for him; in fact, he's just had another bad blow, poor chap,and I'm afraid he's taking it frightfully hard."

  "Tell me ... if you think you might? I ... want to hear."

  He came and sat down opposite, fixing his eyes upon her quivering face.She was so rapt that she had ceased to heed what he might be thinking.Ninian was not dead. _He was not dead_. He lived. She heard, butcould not realise; she felt as though a blow had stunned her.

  "I don't know whether I ought to tell you," said Wolf thoughtfully."Nin might give me socks if he knew. But you seem to take some interestin the poor old chap, after all."

  She made a sound which she meant for a laugh, but which was merely asob. "Perhaps I do."

  "I don't suppose he ever conversed with you on the subject of finance,"went on Wolf softly; "but you may perhaps have gathered during your staywith us that he was pretty hard up?"

  He was narrowly watching her face, but she replied frankly enough:

  "Of course I knew it. I knew he was fighting as hard as he could so asnot to--not to have to sell the Pele."

  "Oh, you knew that? You knew how set he was upon the old place?"

  "Indeed, yes, I knew."

  "Well, wh
en the war came there was no way out of it. He was bound toraise such a sum of money as should make my mother independent in caseof his death. He went to our cousin, Caryngston, and offered to sell tohim, upon conditions."

  "Conditions?"

  "Yes. Caryngston was to give an undertaking not to sell again, and toallow my mother to remain in possession for the duration of the war."

  "Then--then it is actually sold?"

  "Yes. At that time Caryngston was fearfully keen, for his son was justengaged to Miss Leverett, daughter of an American millionaire----"

  "Wash-white Slick-Soap," she murmured.

  "Just so. Her father found the purchase money, because he fancied hisdaughter in a feudal pile; and the deal went through. Since that time,however, the whole situation has changed. Poor Noel went to the frontthree months later, and was to be married as soon as he got his firstleave. Well, he never got any leave. He was shot before he had beenout a month. Miss Leverett never became Mrs. Guyse, and the old manwants his money back. Caryngston can't repay him unless he sells thePele, and he has written to Nin to say that he will be reluctantlycompelled to do so."

  "Oh, what a shame! What an utter shame!" burst forth Miss Innes,springing to her feet in her vehemence.

  "I'm afraid, from what he says, that it has just about broken poor oldNin. The last straw, you know."

  Olwen sat down again as suddenly as she had uprisen. Her very knees wereshaking. Perhaps Wolf saw that she could not speak, for he filled inthe pause glibly.

  "I wonder whether, when you were at the Pele, you ever heard the oddstory--legend, I should say--of the Bull-drop?"

  She brought back her mind with an effort. "The Bull-drop?"

  "Yes; the causeway leading to the Pele. There was a tale of a bullhaving jumped out of the keep through a breach made by the besiegers,and they prophesied that if such a thing ever happened again there wouldbe a fair Guyse, and the family would recover its old importance."

  "Of course I remember. Why, of course!"

  "Well, a curious thing happened just about the time you left us. Do youremember meeting a messenger-boy on your way to Raefell? As a matter offact, he had a cablegram for you in his pocket, and he told us where tolook for you. We questioned him and found that he had seen you on theroad."

  "I remember well."

  "Like all boys, he was fascinated by the desire to walk on the parapetof the causeway. It was in a bad state, for the long frost had cakedthe old snow upon it so thickly that the rains had not removed all ofit. He slipped and fell into the ravine."

  "Was he killed?"

  "Not a bit of it. He fell quite near the farther end, among theunderbrush on the slope. However, he broke a rib or two and was prettybad. But the funny part of the story is, that when we put the chap tobed and sent for the doctor, we discovered that his name was TommyBull."

  As he hoped, this story diverted her attention from the consideration ofNinian's tragedy.

  "Bull? It seems like the fulfilment of the prophecy! Oh, what did Suniasay?"

  "She was perfectly certain that it was, as you say, the fulfilment ofprophecy. She was so completely reassured by it that she was able tobear up under the sale of the Pele and the departure of her sahib forthe war. She said that things must come right; it was merely a questionof waiting. But I think she has lost heart at last. This latest blowis too heavy."

  "You say--did you tell me--that the tower is actually sold? I mean thatLord Caryngston has actually sold it?"

  "I believe not. He wrote to warn Ninian that it was to be sold, and hementioned that he had already had an offer of more than he gave. Ofcourse, he is breaking his contract, but he knows Nin has no money tofight him."

  "No, but Mr. Guyse is in the Pele, and possession is nine points of thelaw," cried Olwen passionately. "If I were he I would decline to turnout, and surely the Courts would support him if anybody tried to evicthim."

  He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe. Maybe not. I don't believe theconditions made are legally binding. He trusted to Caryngston'shonour."

  She sat, hands locked together, mind so busy that it seemed to whirl.

  "Does Mr. Guyse know that--that you and I have met?" she asked atlength.

  "No. I didn't say anything about it. It's a sore subject, you see. Hehas never got over your turning him down." As the colour flew to hercheeks, he added, "I beg pardon. I had no right to say that."

  "It is hardly accurate, moreover. Mr. Guyse only offered to marry me inorder to satisfy a somewhat fantastic sense of honour. He would havebeen much surprised had I taken advantage of his proposal."

  Wolf's most expressive glance was upon her. "I wonder if you expect meto believe that?" he asked mischievously.

  Olwen drew herself up. "Whether you believe it or not hardly concernsme, Colonel Guyse."

  He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you are a person of importance now,"said he, "and can take your pick of the fortune-hunters. I can tell youone thing, however. You will never find a man among them fit to tie upold Nin's shoe-string. But I had better say 'Good-bye,' before I offendpast forgiveness!"

  He rose and held out his hand. "Then we meet at eleven to-morrowmorning?" he said.

  She let him go, scarcely heeding what she did. The world was upsidedown, and she wanted time in which to readjust her ideas. When he hadleft the room, she went towards the door almost as though she wereblind, groping for the handle. Just as she emerged upon the landing theparlourmaid came up from the hall, bearing a note upon a salver.

  It had been delivered by hand, and was marked "Urgent."

  She carried it up with her to her room, locked herself in, flung downthe envelope on her toilet-table and herself upon the bed.

  Floods of tears came to her relief, and for a while she lay therehelpless, overswept by a torrent of feeling, while a host of plans,hopes, wishes, fears, thrills careered madly through her mind.

  Not until the first bell reminded her that Parkinson would be arrivingalmost immediately to dress her for dinner did she arise; and going tothe glass to survey the ravages of the past hour's emotion, remark thenote lying on the jewel tray.

  It did not look at all important. She expected one of the appeals whichreached her with distressing frequency from some impecunious person whohad "heard she was celebrated for her kind and feeling heart." Thecontents were surprising. It was dated from an address at Finchley, andwritten in a pretty, ladylike hand.

  "DEAR MADAM,--Pardon my troubling you, but as Colonel Guyse seems to bevery often at your house, I am writing to inform you of what you may notknow--namely, that he is a married man. I saw you talking to him inRegent Street the other day, and I have watched him since. If you needproof, I can show you my marriage lines, but if you show him this letterhe won't deny it. We were married in Canada years ago, and I adored himso that I fell in with his idea that to have his marriage with me knownwould spoil his whole future. Now I feel that I have had enough of it.He has a Colonel's pay, and he ought to acknowledge me, instead of whichhe says he is going to reduce my allowance. I have come up to Londonunknown to him, for when he said he was going to cut me short I guessedthere was something going on. I feel I must put a spoke in his wheelbefore it is too late. I have borne a great deal, but if he thinks heis going to deceive a nice young girl like you, who has done good allthrough the war, he is mistaken. My cousin from Canada was one of theboys you nursed, and I don't forget it. Write to me if you like, but ifyou are the girl I take you for this letter ought to do thetrick.--Yours truly, LILY GUYSE."

  Lily Guyse! There was but little need to inquire what the lady's maidenname had been. She was Lily Martin, and the face which Olwen hadnoticed as Wolf took leave of her in Regent Street was the face she hadseen between the leaves of a book in the Pele library.

  Wolf's wife!