CHAPTER XII
A PERILOUS VENTURE
In the grey dawn of the following morning Cyril was already up anddressed. The first thing he did was to detach two of the labels affixedto his box and place them carefully in his pocketbook. Thataccomplished, he had to wait with what patience he could muster untilPeter returned with Campbell's reply. Cyril perused it eagerly. It wasevidently satisfactory, for he heaved a sigh of relief as he sat down tobreakfast. His eyes, however, never left the clock and it had hardlyfinished striking nine before our hero was out of the house. Nosuspicious person was in sight, but Cyril, was determined to take nochances. He therefore walked quickly ahead, then turned so abruptly thathe would necessarily have surprised any one who was following him. Thishe did many times till he reached Piccadilly Circus, where, with a lastlook behind him, he bolted into a shop. There he asked for a smalltravelling box suitable for a lady. Having chosen one, he took hislabels out of his pocket.
"Have these pasted on the box," he ordered.
The man's face expressed such amazement that Cyril hastened to remarkthat the box was intended for a bride who did not wish to be identifiedas such by the newness of her baggage. A comprehending and sympatheticsmile proved that the explanation was satisfactory. A few minutes laterCyril drove off with his new acquisition. The next purchase was ahandsomely-fitted lady's dressing-bag, which he took to Trufitt's andfilled with such toilet accessories as a much-befrizzled young persondesignated as indispensable to a lady's comfort. On leaving there hestopped for a moment at his bank.
Cyril now metaphorically girded his loins and summoning up all hiscourage, plunged into a shop in Bond Street, where he remembered hismother used to get what she vaguely termed "her things." Among the mazeof frou-frous he stood in helpless bewilderment, till an obsequiousfloor-walker came to his rescue. Cyril explained that he had a boxoutside which he wanted to fill then and there with a complete outfitfor a young lady. To his relief the man showed no surprise at so unusuala request and he was soon ensconced in the blessed seclusion of afitting room. There the box was hurriedly packed with a variedassortment of apparel, which he devoutly prayed would meet withPriscilla's approval. It was not half-past eleven. The doctor must haveleft the nursing home by this time, thought Cyril.
Not wishing to attract attention by driving up to the door, he told thechauffeur to stop when they were still at some distance away from it.There he got out and looked anxiously about him. To his relief herecognised Campbell's crimson pate hovering in the distance. So far,thought Cyril triumphantly, there had been no hitch in hiscarefully-laid plans.
"You are to wait here," he said, turning to the driver, "for a lady anda red-haired gentleman. Now understand, no one but a red-haired man isto enter this car. Here is a pound, and if you don't make a mess ofthings, the other gentleman will give you two more."
"All right, sir; thank you, sir," exclaimed the astonished chauffeur,greedily pocketing the gold piece.
Cyril was certain that he had not been followed, and there was no signthat the nursing home was being watched, but that did not reassure him.Those curtained windows opposite might conceal a hundred prying eyes.
When he was ushered into Miss Prentice's room, he was surprised to findher already up and dressed. She held a mirror in one hand and with theother was arranging a yellow wig, which encircled her face like anaureole. Cyril could hardly restrain a cry of admiration. He had thoughther lovely before, but now her beauty was absolutely startling.
On catching sight of him she dropped the mirror and ran to him withoutstretched hands.
"Oh! I am so glad you have come. How do you like my hair?" she exclaimedall in one breath.
Cyril heroically disengaged himself from her soft, clinging clasp andnot daring to allow his eyes to linger on her upturned face, he surveyedthe article in question judicially.
"For a wig it's not bad. I can't say, however, that I like anythingartificial," he asserted mendaciously.
"You prefer my own hair!" she cried, and the corners of her mouth beganto droop in a way he had already begun to dread. "Oh! what shall I do?Nurse tells me it will take ages and ages for it to grow again."
"There, there, my dear, it's all right. You look lovely--" he pausedabruptly.
"Oh, do I?" she cried, beaming with delight. "I am so glad you thinkso!"
"It doesn't matter what I think."
"But it does," she insisted.
Cyril turned resolutely away. This sort of thing must stop, hedetermined.
"I would like to ask you one thing." She hesitated a moment. "Are wevery poor?"
"No, why?"
"Then I could afford to have some pretty clothes?"
"Certainly."
"Oh, I'm so glad! I can't bear the ones I have on. I can't think why Iever bought anything so ugly. I shall throw them away as soon as I canget others. By the way, where is my box? Nurse tells me that I arrivedhere with nothing but a small hand-bag."
"It has gone astray," he stammered. "It will turn up soon, no doubt, butin the meantime I have bought a few clothes for your immediate use."
"Oh, have you? Where are they?" she cried, clapping her hands.
Now was the crucial moment. He must introduce the subject of herdeparture tactfully.
"They are outside in a cab."
She ran to the window.
"But I see no cab."
"It is waiting a little farther down the street."
She looked bewildered.
"Farther down--why?"
"You trust me, don't you?" he said, looking earnestly at her.
"Yes, of course."
"Then, believe me, it is necessary for you to leave this placeimmediately. I--you--are being pursued by some one who--who wishes toseparate us."
"Oh, no, not that!" she cried. "But how can any one separate us, whenGod has joined us together?"
"It's a long story and I have no time to explain it now. All I ask isthat you will trust me blindly for the present, and do exactly what Itell you to."
"I will," she murmured submissively.
"Thank you. Will you please call your nurse?"
She touched a bell.
The same middle-aged woman appeared of whom he had caught a glimpse onhis former visit.
"Good-morning, nurse. Your patient seems pretty fit to-day."
"Mrs. Thompkins is recovering very rapidly."
"Can I speak to the doctor?" asked Cyril.
"I am sorry, but he has just left."
"Too bad!" Cyril knitted his brows as if the doctor's absence was anunexpected disappointment. "Mrs. Thompkins must leave here at once and Iwanted to explain her precipitate departure to him."
"You might telephone," suggested the nurse.
"Yes, or better still, I shall call at his office. But his absenceplaces me in a most awkward predicament."
Cyril paced the room several times as if in deep thought, then haltedbefore the nurse.
"Well, there is no help for it. As the doctor is not here, I mustconfide in you. Thompkins is not our real name. The doctor knows whatthat is and it was on his advice that we discarded it for the timebeing. I can't tell you our reason for this concealment nor why my wifemust not only leave this house as soon as possible, but must do sounobserved. Will you help us?"
"I--I don't know, sir," answered the nurse dubiously, staring at Cyrilin amazement.
"If you will dress my wife in a nurse's uniform and see that she getsout of here without being recognised, I will give you L100. Here is themoney."
The nurse gave a gasp and backed away from the notes, which Cyril heldtemptingly toward her.
"Oh, I couldn't, sir, really I couldn't. The doctor would never forgiveme. Besides it seems so queer."
"I promise you on my word of honour that the doctor need never know thatyou helped us."
But the woman only shook her head.
"What makes you hesitate?" continued Cyril. "Do you think I am trying tobribe you to do something dishonourable? Ah, that is it, is it?" He
gavea short laugh. "Look at my wife, does she look like a criminal, I askyou?"
"She certainly doesn't," answered the nurse, glancing eagerly from oneto the other and then longingly down at the money in Cyril's hand.
"Well, then, why not trust your instinct in the matter? My wife and Ihave been placed, through no fault of our own, in a very disagreeableposition. You will know the whole story some day, but for the present mylips are sealed. International complications might arise if the truthleaked out prematurely." Cyril felt that the last was a neat touch, forthe woman's face cleared and she repeated in an awe-struck voice:"International complications!"
"Germany! I can say no more," added Cyril in a stage whisper.
"Ah! The wretches!" cried the nurse. "One never knows what they will beat next. Of course I will help you. I ought to have known at once thatit was sure to be all right. Any one can see that you are a gentleman--asoldier, I dare say?"
"Never mind who or what I am. It is better that you should be abletruthfully to plead your complete ignorance. Now as to the uniform; haveyou one to spare?"
"Yes, indeed. I will go and get it immediately."
"All this mystery frightens me," exclaimed Priscilla as soon as theywere alone.
"You must be brave. Now listen attentively to what I am saying. Onleaving here----"
"Oh, aren't you going with me?" she asked.
"No, we must not be seen together, but I will join you later."
"You will not leave me alone again?"
"Not for long."
"Promise."
"I promise."
"Very well, now tell me what I am to do."
"On leaving this house you are to turn to your right and walk down thestreet till you see a taxi with a box on it. A friend of mine, GuyCampbell, will be inside. You can easily recognise him; he has red hair.Campbell will drive you to a hotel where a lady is waiting for you andwhere you are to stay till I can join you. If there should be any hitchin these arrangements, go to this address and send a telegram to me atthe club. I have written all this down," he said, handing her a foldedpaper.
The nurse returned with her arms full of clothes.
"Have you a thick veil?" asked Cyril.
"There is a long one attached to the bonnet, but we never pull it overour faces, and I am afraid if Mrs. Thompkins did so, it would attractattention."
"Yet something must be done to conceal her face."
The nurse thought for a moment.
"Leave that to me, sir. I used to help in private theatricals once upona time."
"That is splendid! I will go downstairs now and wait till you have gotMrs. Thompkins ready."
"Give me a quarter of an hour and you will be astonished at the result."She seemed to have thrown her whole heart into the business.
When Cyril returned, he found Priscilla really transformed. Her yellowcurls had been plastered down on either side of her forehead. A pair oftinted spectacles dimmed the brilliancy of her eyes and her dark,finely-arched eyebrows had been rendered almost imperceptible by askilful application of grease and powder. With a burnt match the nursehad drawn a few faint lines in the girlish face, so that she looked atleast ten years older, and all this artifice was made to appear naturalby means of a dingy, black net veil. A nurse's costume completed thedisguise.
"You have done winders, nurse. I can't thank you enough," he exclaimed.
"Don't I look a fright?" cried Priscilla a little ruefully.
"No, you don't. That is just where the art comes in. You are notnoticeable one way or the other. It is admirable. And now you had betterbe going."
The nurse peered into the hall.
"There is no one about just now. I will take Mrs. Thompkins to the frontdoor. If we are seen, it will be supposed that she is some friend ofmine who has been calling on me. I will watch till I see her safely inthe car," the nurse assured him.
"Thanks."
"By the way, as I have to pretend not to know of my patient's departure,I had better not return till you have left."
"All right. Good-bye, nurse. I shall stay here a quarter of an hour soas to give you a good start. Good-bye, my dear."
The next fifteen minutes seemed to Cyril the longest he had ever spent.He did not even dare to follow Priscilla's progress from the window.Watch in hand he waited till the time was up and then made his waycautiously out of the house without, as luck would have it, encounteringany one.
The taxi was no longer in sight! With a light heart Cyril walked brisklyto the doctor's office.
"Well, Lord Wilmersley, what brings you here?" asked the doctor, whenCyril was finally ushered into the august presence.
"I have called to tell you that my wife has left the nursing home,"Cyril blurted out.
"Impossible!" cried the doctor. "She was quite calm this morning. Thenurse would----"
"The nurse had nothing to do with it," interrupted Cyril hastily. "Itwas I who took her away."
"You? But why this haste? I thought you had decided to wait tillto-morrow."
"For family reasons, which I need not go into now, I thought it bestthat she should be removed at once."
"And may I know where she is?" inquired the doctor, looking searchinglyat Cyril.
"I intend to take her to Geralton--in--in a few days."
"Indeed!" The doctor's upper lip lengthened perceptibly.
"So you do not wish me to know where you have hidden her."
"Hidden her?" Cyril raised his eyebrows deprecatingly. "That is astrange expression to use. It seems to me that a man has certainly theright to withhold his wife's address from a comparative stranger withoutbeing accused of hiding her. You should really choose your words morecarefully, my dear sir."
The doctor glared at Cyril for a moment, then rising abruptly he pacedthe room several times.
"It's no use," he said at last, stopping in front of Cyril. "You can'tpersuade me that there is not some mystery connected with LadyWilmersley. And I warn you that I have determined to find out thetruth."
Cyril's heart gave an uncomfortable jump, but he managed to keep hisface impassive.
"A mystery? What an amusing idea! A man of your imagination is reallywasted in the medical profession. You should write, my dear doctor, youreally should. But, granting for the sake of argument that I havesomething to conceal, what right have you to try to force my confidence?My wife's movements are surely no concern of yours."
"One has not only the right, but it becomes one's obvious duty tointerfere, when one has reason to believe that by doing so one mayprevent the ill-treatment of a helpless woman."
"Do you really think I ill-treat my wife?"
"I think it is possible. And till I am sure that my fears are unfounded,I will not consent to Lady Wilmersley's remaining in your sole care."
"Do you mind telling me what basis you have for such a monstroussuspicion?" asked Cyril very quietly.
"Certainly. You bring me a young lady who has been flogged. You tell methat she is your wife, yet you profess to know nothing of her injuriesand give an explanation which, although not impossible, is at all eventshighly improbable. This lady, who is not only beautiful but charming,you neglect in the most astonishing manner. No, I am not forgetting thatyou had other pressing duties to attend to, but even so, if you hadcared for your wife, you could not have remained away from her as youdid. It was nothing less than heartless to leave a poor young woman, inthe state she was in, alone among strangers. Your letter only partiallysatisfied me. Your arguments would have seemed to me perfectlyunconvincing, if I had not been so anxious to believe the best. As itwas, although I tried to ignore it, a root of suspicion still lingeredin my mind. Then, when you finally do turn up, instead of hurrying toyour wife's bedside you try in every way to avoid meeting her till atlast I have to insist upon your doing so. I tell you, that if she hadnot shown such marked affection for you, I should have had no doubt ofyour guilt."
"Nonsense! Do I look like a wife-beater?"
"No, but the only murderess I e
ver knew looked like one of Raphael'sMadonnas."
"Thanks for the implication." Cyril bowed sarcastically.
"The more I observed Mrs. Thompkins," continued the doctor, "the more Ibecame convinced that a severe shock was responsible for her amnesia,and that she had never been insane nor was she at all likely to becomeso."
"Even physicians are occasionally mistaken in their diagnosis, I havebeen told."
"You are right; that is why I have given you the benefit of the doubt,"replied the doctor calmly. "This morning, however, I made a discovery,which practically proves that my suspicions were not unfounded."
"And pray what is this great discovery of yours?" drawled Cyril.
"I had been worrying about this case all night, when it suddenlyoccurred to me to consult the peerage. I wanted to find out who LadyWilmersley's people were, so that I might communicate with them if Iconsidered it necessary. The first thing I found was that your wife wasborn in 18--, so that now she is in her twenty-eighth year. My patientis certainly not more than twenty. How do you account for thisdiscrepancy in their ages?"
Cyril forced himself to smile superciliously.
"And is my wife's youthful appearance your only reason for doubting heridentity?"
The doctor seemed a little staggered by Cyril's nonchalant manner.
"It is my chief reason, but as I have just taken the trouble to explain,not my only one."
"Oh, really! And if she is not my wife, whom do you suspect her ofbeing?"
"I have no idea."
"You astonish me." In trying to conceal his agitation Cyrilunfortunately assumed an air of frigid detachment, which only served toexasperate the doctor still further.
"Your manner is insulting, my lord."
"Your suspicions are so flattering!" drawled Cyril.
The doctor glared at Cyril for a moment but seemed at a loss for acrushing reply.
"You must acknowledge that appearances are against you," he said atlast, making a valiant effort to control his temper. "If you are a manof honour, you ought to appreciate that my position is a very difficultone and to be as ready to forgive me, if I have erred through excessivezeal, as I shall be to apologise to you. Now let me ask you one morequestion. Why were you so anxious that I should not see the jewels?"
"Oh, had you not seen them? I thought, of course, that you had. Iapologise for not having satisfied your curiosity."
There was a short pause during which the doctor looked long andsearchingly at Cyril.
"I can't help it. I feel that there is something fishy about thisbusiness. You can't convince me to the contrary."
"I was not aware that I was trying to do so."
The doctor almost danced with rage.
"Lord Wilmersley--for I suppose you are Lord Wilmersley?"
"Unless I am his valet, Peter Thompkins."
"I know nothing about you," cried the doctor, "and you have succeeded toyour title under very peculiar circumstances, my lord."
"So you suspect me not only of flogging my wife but of murdering mycousin!" laughed Cyril. "My dear doctor, don't you realise that if therewere the slightest grounds for your suspicions, the police would haveput me under surveillance long ago. Why, I can easily prove that I wasin Paris at the time of the murder."
"Oh, you are clever! I don't doubt that you have an impeccable alibi.But if I informed the police that you were passing off as your wife agirl several years younger than Lady Wilmersley, a girl, moreover, who,you acknowledged, joined you at Newhaven the very morning after themurder--if I told them that this young lady had in her possession aremarkable number of jewels, which she carried in a cheap, blackbag--what do you think they would say to that, my lord?"
Cyril felt cold chills creeping down his back and the palms of his handsgrew moist. Not a flicker of an eyelash, however, betrayed his inwardtumult. "They would no doubt pay as high a tribute to your imaginationas I do," he answered.
Then, abandoning his careless pose, he sat up in his chair.
"You have been insulting me for the last half-hour, and I have borne itvery patiently, partly because your absurd suspicions amused me, andpartly because I realised that, although you are a fool, you are anhonest fool."
"Sir!" The doctor turned purple in the face.
"You can hardly resent being called a fool by a man you have beenaccusing of murder and wife-beating. But I don't want you to go to thepolice with this cock-and-bull story----"
"Ah! I thought not," sneered the doctor.
"Because," continued Cyril, ignoring the interruption, "I want toprotect my wife from unpleasant notoriety, and also, although you don'tdeserve it, to keep you from becoming a public laughing stock. So faryou have done all the talking; now you are to listen to me. Sit down.You make me nervous strutting about like that. Sit down, I tell you.There, that's better. Now let us see what all this rigmarole reallyamounts to. You began by asking for my wife's address, and when I didnot immediately gratify what I considered your impertinent curiosity,you launch forth into vague threats of exposure. As far as I can makeout from your disjointed harangue, your excuse for prying into myaffairs is that by doing so you are protecting a helpless woman fromfurther ill-treatment. Very well. Granting that you really suppose me tobe a brute, your behaviour might be perfectly justified if--if youbelieved that your patient is my wife. But you tell me that you do not.You think that she is either my mistress or my accomplice, or both. Now,if she is a criminal and an immoral woman, you must admit that she hasshown extraordinary cleverness, inasmuch as she succeeded not only ineluding the police but in deceiving you. For the impression she made onyou was a very favourable one, was it not? She seemed to you unusuallyinnocent as well as absolutely frank, didn't she?"
"Yes," acknowledged the doctor.
"Now, if she was able to dupe so trained an observer as yourself, shemust be a remarkable woman, and cannot be the helpless creature youpicture her, and consequently would be in no danger of being forced tosubmit to abuse from any one."
"True," murmured the doctor.
"But I think I can prove to you that you were not mistaken in your firstestimate of her character. This illness of hers--was it real or could ithave been feigned?"
"It was real. There is no doubt about that."
"You saw her when she was only semi-conscious, when she was physicallyincapable of acting a part--did she during that time, either by word orlook, betray moral perversity?"
"She did not." The doctor's anger had abated and he was listening toCyril intently.
"How, then, can you doubt her? And if she is what she seems, she iscertainly neither my mistress nor a thief; and if she is not the one northe other, she must be my wife, and if you go to the police with yourabsurd suspicions, you will only succeed in making yourself ridiculous."
There was a pause during which the two men eyed each other keenly.
"You make a great point of the fact that my wife had in her possession anumber of valuable ornaments," continued Cyril. "But why should she not?My wife insisted on having all her jewelry with her at Charleroi, andwhen she escaped from there, they were among the few things she tookwith her. The excitement of meeting her so unexpectedly and her suddenillness made me forget all about them, otherwise I would have taken themout of the bag, which, as you may have noticed, was not even locked. Butthe very fact that I did forget all about them and allowed them to passthrough the hands of nurses and servants, that alone ought to convinceyou that I did not come by them dishonestly. You had them for days inyour possession; yet you accuse me of having prevented you fromexamining them. That is really ridiculous! Your whole case against me isbuilt on the wildest conjectures, from which you proceed to drawperfectly untenable inferences. My wife looks young for her age, I grantyou; but even you would not venture to swear positively that she is nottwenty-eight. You fancied that I neglected her; consequently I am abrute. She is sane now; so you believe that she has never beenotherwise. You imagined that I did not wish you to examine the contentsof my wife's bag, therefore
the Wilmersley jewels must have been in it."
"What you say sounds plausible enough," acknowledged the doctor, "and itseems impossible to associate you with anything cruel, mean, or evenunderhand, and yet--and yet--I have an unaccountable feeling that youare not telling me the truth. When I try to analyse my impressions, Ifind that I distrust not you but your story. You have, however,convinced me that I have no logical basis for my suspicions. That beingthe case, I shall do nothing for the present. But, if at the end of afortnight I do not hear that Lady Wilmersley has arrived in England, andhas taken her place in the world, then I shall believe that my instincthas not been at fault, and shall do my best to find out what has becomeof her, even at the risk of creating a scandal or of being laughed atfor my pains. But I don't care, I shall feel that I have done my duty.In the meantime I shall write to Dr. Monet. Now I have given you a fairwarning, which you can act on as you see fit."
What an unerring scent the man had for falsehood, thought Cyril withunwilling admiration. It was really wonderful the way he disregardedprobabilities and turned a deaf ear to reason. He was a big man, Cyrilgrudgingly admitted.
"I suppose you will not believe me if I tell you that I have no personalanimosity toward you, Lord Wilmersley?"
"I know that. And some day we'll laugh over this episode together,"replied Cyril, with a heartiness which surprised himself.
"Now that is nice of you," cried the doctor. "My temper is rather hasty,I am sorry to say, and though I don't remember all I said just now, I amsure, I was unnecessarily disagreeable."
"Well, I called you a fool," grinned Cyril.
"So you did, so you did, and may I live to acknowledge that I richlydeserve the appellation."
And so their interview terminated with unexpected friendliness.
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