First Person Paramount

by Ambrose Pratt

  VIII

  TORTURE

  I dreamed that my nostrils were being tickled with a straw. Afterawhile the sensation became intolerable. I knew that I was dreaming,yet I wished to wake up. Sleep, however, pressed with a heavy hand uponmy eyelids, and I contended long and desperately without at allpersuading him to go.

  At last a voice said, "That will do, Jussieu, he is coming round."

  I opened my eyes at once, with extraordinary ease, considering my longstruggle, and I looked up into the impassive countenance of Sir CharlesVenner. I was seated upright in a high-backed chair, strapped securelyin position, strapped in such a way indeed that I could move only myfingers and my toes. The negro surgeon, Jussieu, whom I had last seenat the Kingsmere Hospital for Consumptives, was standing to the rightof Sir Charles, and three of us were grouped about the centre of asmall uncarpeted brick-floored room scarce twelve feet square, that wasfurnished only with the chair I occupied and a bracket oil lamp whosewick was smoking. There was one other person in the room. The negro,Beudant, stood near the closed door, wiping upon a cloth ablood-smeared lancet. I noticed that my left sleeve had been rippedopen, and that my arm was bandaged just above the elbow. Evidently theyhad bled me. But why? And where was Marion? Of a sudden I rememberedall. Marion had lured me to this river park and betrayed me with aJudas kiss into the hands of my enemies. Too late she had repented ofher treachery and tried to save me. She had swooned; I had knelt besideher body, and someone had stunned me with a club. It was all verysimple. I had been a contemptible fool, and now I must pay the price ofmy folly. What price would they exact? I wondered. But I most wonderedat my indifference. They can only kill me, I reflected, and the thoughtscarcely disturbed me. Yet I was curious. There were many things Iwished to know.

  "Where am I?" I asked, looking at Sir Charles.

  "You are in the cellar of my private house at Staines," he answeredcivilly enough. "I may inform you that I keep no servants except thesemen you see, and the house is set in the middle of a small park somehundred and fifty yards distant from the river and at least a quartermile from any other building. You may therefore spare yourself theuseless trouble of shouting for help, should you have been so minded."

  "Thank you!" said I.

  "Question me further, if you wish, Mr. Hume. It will be my turn soon toplay inquisitor, when you are stronger."

  "Where is Marion Le Mar?"

  "She returned to London, this morning. You have been four and twentyhours insensible."

  "A clever woman that," I muttered coolly. "You may congratulateyourself, Sir Charles, on her assistance. But for her I would long agohave been in France."

  He smiled ironically. "You praise her too much!" he replied. "She hasserved me well, it is true; but for the last fortnight you have beenpractically my prisoner."

  "What do you mean?" I demanded.

  "What I say. Do you remember Miss Le Mar calling you to her room onecertain evening and asking you questions of your race and parentage?"

  "Yes."

  "Had you left the house that evening, even the very second shedismissed you, and indeed at any moment since, you would have beenarrested on the instant."

  "By whom?"

  "By my detectives!"

  "What, did you commit yourself with the police?"

  He smiled again. "Oh, no! Nevertheless, you would have been arrested,Mr. Hume, and you would have thought--by the police!"

  "I--see; but--but--how could you have known, I mean, how could you havebeen sure that I was I--until you had communicated with--with her?"

  For a third time he smiled, and when he spoke it was in a tone ofgenuine admiration. "You are an able man, Mr. Hume!" said he, "but nochain is stronger than its weakest link, and your weakest link wasrevealed to me that very morning!"

  "Ah! what was it?"

  "An advertisement in the personal column of the _Daily Mail_."

  "You deal in mysteries!" I cried impatiently, "I never inserted such anadvertisement in my life."

  "It ran like this"--replied Sir Charles. "If the gentleman who left aplain, oak coffin in the front room of number 904 Old Kent Road on themorning of the ---- day of ----, does not claim it within fourteen daysfrom date, it will be sold to pay expenses. Sarah Rosenbaum!"

  "The idiot!" I gasped. "I gave it to her!"

  Sir Charles burst out laughing. "Did you?" he cried--"did you indeed?Well luckily for me she could not have understood you!"

  "Do you mean to say, sir, it was only that advertisement which put youon my track?"

  "That, and only that. I suspected you before, but I confess that youwere adroit enough to allay my suspicions and hoodwink me completely!"

  "Oh! Lord," I groaned. "To think that a frowsy, oily haired Jewessshould be the cause of my undoing. Why in the name of goodness was shenot satisfied to take the coffin for a gift!"

  "Perhaps she was afraid to sell it, or perhaps she tried to sell it andcould not show a title to its would-be purchaser. You should notcondemn her, Hume, upon _ex parte_ evidence. Pardon me for saying it,but the fault was yours. You should not have given her the coffin atall. You should have got rid of it by other means!"

  "Too true!" I groaned. "But I only wanted a day's grace then, or I'dnot have been so careless!"

  "You had seven!" he exclaimed. "The advertisement did not appear for a week!"

  I felt my cheeks crimson. "After all," I muttered, "you owe everythingto Marion."

  "Were you really such a fool," he cried.

  I nodded. "Give me to drink!" I said. "I'm feeling weak and sick."

  He made a sign, and one of the negroes hurried out. I was very nearswooning, when I felt my chair tipped back, and something was forcedbetween my teeth. I drank and was revived. Then one of the negroes fedme with a bowl of soup and soon my strength was perfectly restored. SirCharles Venner waited all the time before me, occasionally feeling mypulse. He seemed satisfied at last that my condition warranted hispromised inquisition, and he proceeded straight away to business.

  "Where are the jewels?" he demanded. "The jewels you purchased with theten thousand pounds that you extorted from me?"

  "In a safe place." I replied.

  "But you must tell me where, Mr. Hume," he said, in a pleasant butdetermined voice.

  "Ah, but you must first tell me what you intend to do with me, SirCharles."

  He shrugged his shoulders. "What can I do but kill you?" he replied. "Idare not let you go, and you are too infernally adroit to keep aprisoner! Come, Hume, I'll make a bargain with you. Give me the jewels,and I'll promise you your choice of deaths."

  "Done with you!" I cried. "I choose old age!"

  "Senility is not for you, my friend; I spoke of sudden deaths."

  "Then we can't trade, Sir Charles!"

  "Let me remind you that I am a surgeon, Hume. Some deaths areextraordinarily painful. You, who are no anatomist, I think, would besurprised to learn how tenaciously the soul may cling to its claycasket, and how deep are the wells of agony that it will often plumbbefore it can be prevailed upon to seek another sphere of usefulness.Now I am not a cruel man, and I should not like to see you suffer tooprotractedly. Let me persuade you not to force my hand."

  "Give me a night to think it over," I replied.

  "Why delay? No, Hume, I cannot grant your wish in any case. I have toperform a difficult operation to-morrow, and if my mind were occupiedwith doubts, I might not do my patient justice. If I left you herealive I should be uneasy, my knife might slip--a thousand accidentsmight happen. Improbable as it seems, you might escape."

  "You have determined then to murder me tonight?" I gasped.

  "Yes."

  "But, you fool!" I cried, seeing one gleam of hope. "How then can yoube sure of getting the jewels. I have only to tell you a lie in orderto rob you of them for ever!"

  The man positively started; nor did he attempt to conceal his mind.

  "Hum!" he muttered. "That is a point I had overlooked." Of a sudden,however, his lips parted in a smile
and his eyes gleamed.

  "Well, well," he said. "Since there's no help, I needs must let youlive a day or two. But in order to save time, Hume, be good enough totell me your first lie at once?"

  "You mean?"

  "I'll be quite frank with you, my man. This is my meaning. You willpresently mention a place where the jewels may be but are not. I shallprove during to-morrow that you have lied. And to-morrow night we'llspeak again--and you will then tell me the truth. You understand?"

  "You mean, that to-morrow night you will torture me?"

  "Just so."

  "And if I refuse to speak to-night?"

  "You will sleep poorly, I'm afraid, my friend. But come, be reasonable.You pleaded for a night's reflection. I offer it to you."

  "But with a sure prospect of torture on the morrow."

  "Unless you speak the truth to-night."

  "Then I shall!" I cried with a shudder. "Better death than torture!"

  "Well?"

  "The jewels are in Sir William Dagmar's house. You will----"

  "You lie," he interjected sharply. "I drugged and searched you thenight that you returned from robbing me."

  "I know that, sir; but the very next day I went out and brought them tothe house, I couldn't bear to have them any longer out of my reach."

  "Ah!" His looks pierced me, but I did not flick an eyelash as Isteadily returned his stare.

  "Go on!" he said at length. "Where are they hidden, then?"

  "Marion Le Mar has them, Sir Charles. I gave them to her when we leftthe house last morning?"

  "What?" he shouted. "What?"

  "It is true," I answered glibly. "I gave them to her wrapped up in asmall sealed parcel, which I asked her to keep for me in her box untilwe had returned. I acted so for this reason. It occurred to me that youor someone might take a notion to search my room while I was away, butI felt pretty sure you'd never dream of searching Marion's box."

  It were as well for me perhaps to explain straight away the monstrousfalsehood last recorded. An instinct taught me that Sir Charles Vennerentertained but small respect for women. I saw that he wanted thejewels very badly, and I fancied that if I could make him believe thestory I had so readily invented, I might still live for many days. Hisnatural course would be at once to demand from Marion the packet whichI declared that I had given her. As I had given her nothing, she wouldtruthfully repudiate his claim. But Sir Charles Venner's want ofrespect for women would immediately induce him to doubt the honesty ofMarion's denial. He would think, "she has opened the packet, and thejewels--treasures so dear to women's eyes--have stolen her honour."

  I would act thereafter so as subtly to foster his suspicions, and Ihoped that at last, in order to satisfy himself whether Marion or Ispoke true, he would confront me with the beautiful woman, for love ofwhom I had to die. I felt that I would be content to perish, given inexchange one opportunity to hurl at her my hate. As deep and tender ashad been my love, so bitter and so ardent was my hate!

  Sir Charles eyed me for a moment in thoughtful silence. Then veryslowly he nodded his head.

  "Did you tell her what it was you gave her?" he demanded.

  "No."

  "Why do you tell me now? It will cost you a day of life if you spokethe truth."

  I permitted myself a show of passion.

  "A life of which I am weary, weary! Have you ever loved, you man ofice? Have you ever been betrayed by the creature you adored?" I cried."I would to God that you had killed me as I knelt beside her body inthe park. I had then hardly realized her treachery!" I closed my eyesand shuddered, straining my muscles as though in a paroxysm of mentalagony, the while.

  "Hume!" said Sir Charles, "if you are not acting, you are desperate,and you have not lied to me. Take my advice and die while you aredesperate! A pin prick and all will be over. I can promise you no pain."

  The fact is I had acted far too well. It was necessary then to surpassmy former effort in order to save my life, and at the same time makehim continue to believe in me.

  I opened my eyes and looked up at him, at first with a vacant stare."She sold me with a Judas kiss!" I muttered, "a cursed traitress--witha Judas kiss. You've promised me my choice of deaths. You'll keep yourword, Sir Charles, or by the God above us--you'll die a fouler deaththan I."

  I gave him a look of such concentrated rage as I concluded, that, boundthough I was, he started back a step and bit his lip.

  "Well, well!" he exclaimed, "I'll keep my word, you need not fear."

  "Then bring me a cross, and nail me to it--in my senses while I live,and while I bleed to death--you'll drag her here to see me--so that Imay curse her as I die!"

  "The man is mad!" he gasped, "mad as a March hare!"

  "Keep your word!" furiously I hissed. "I bind you to your word!"

  Sir Charles exchanged fearful glances with the negroes. I watched him,frowning like a thunder-cloud.

  "Come, come!" he said at last. "You must sleep over this, Hume! Youmust not set me a task beyond my power--I----"

  But I broke in upon him with a curse. "What!" I shrieked. "You braggedand bleated of the torture you had in store for me--and when I bid youkill me as I wish to die, you shrink and blanch and mouth your femininehumanity. But you've given me your promise--and you'll keep it or by--"I finished with a storm of maledictions so blasphemously horrible, andwhich I delivered with such wild and awful force, that even the stolidnegroes staggered back and rolled their eyes. As for Sir Charles, heturned sheet white before I was half through, and with a look ofsomething marvellously resembling terror, he turned and simply rushedout of the room.

  I screamed my curses after him, straining and tugging at my bonds likeone possessed. But at length, thoroughly outworn with the exertion, Istopped and feigned to swoon.

  Next moment the cellar was in darkness, and I heard the negroes stumbleout and bolt the door behind them.

  I'll not relate the anguish I endured that night, more than to say itmade an old man of me--in mind, if not in body. I did not sleep. Icould not if I would, for I was companied with memories sharp enough tosting a soul from torpor deep as death. And I would not, if I could,because I feared that those were by me who might take advantage of myslumber to extend my sleep beyond mortality.

  But none came near me, and through the dragging hours I heard no sound.Morning came without the black dark lessening one whit, until thenegro, Beudant, brought a candle with some breakfast. He was plainlyafraid of me at first, and without doubt I was not a pleasant thing togaze upon. But his fears faded as he fed me and saw me grateful for thefood.

  "You are in a gentler mood, monsieur, than overnight," he presentlyremarked. "It is better so, believe me. If I were you, I would not dieupon a cross."

  "Just so," I answered quickly. "I do not wish to die at all, would youlike to make yourself a rich man, M. Beudant?"

  "Why, yes, monsieur."

  "Then help me to escape, and I shall fill your hands with gold."

  "But in that case I should incur my patron's enmity."

  "And in the other you will run a very certain risk of being hanged."

  "Even so, monsieur."

  "You fear your patron more keenly than the law!" I cried. "Believe me,you are wrong."

  "Pardon!" he interrupted, "you mistake, monsieur. I fear no man. SirCharles Venner is my patron and my teacher. But he is also my friend. Iwould suffer death for him, if need arose."

  I sighed. "Will he really kill me, do you think?" I asked.

  The negro pursed out his thick, black lips. "I feel sure of it," hemuttered. "As soon as once the jewels that he seeks are in his hands,you'll die."

  "Then my hours are numbered," I said gloomily, "for that will beto-day."

  "But then, can it be, you told him truly, yesternight, monsieur?"

  "I was mad!" I groaned aloud. "Mad. Last night I cared for nothing! Iwas torn apart with rage and with despair. But now it is different." Igroaned again. "Ah! M. Beudant, is there no hope for me? You do notlook inhuman! Would you h
ave the murder of a fellow being on your soul.Help me to live, if only for a little while--a few short hours? Oneother day? I am not fit to die, Beudant. Great God, no! I am not fit todie!"

  "What can I do for you, monsieur?"

  "Oh! it is not much I ask. Go to your patron and persuade him that Ilied last night."

  "Impossible, monsieur! He has already left the house."

  "Then follow him, Beudant. I am bound or I would beseech you on myknees. Beudant for the love of God----"

  "Monsieur, monsieur!"

  "Kind, sweet Beudant!" I wailed. "Beautiful, excellent Beudant, do thislittle thing for me. See it is a dying man entreats you. Sweet Beudant,pretty Beudant."

  The poor negro looked the picture of distress. His eyes rolled in hishead, and he knew not what to do or say.

  "I cannot deceive my patron!" he cried at last.

  But at that I shrieked aloud and drove him from the room with venomousblood-curdling curses. In his agitation he forgot to take with him thecandle, which he had set upon the floor, and that circumstance gave mean occupation for some hours which in some degree alleviated my darkmood of bitterness. I thought that by dint of great stress and labour Imight work my chair beside the flame and sear through some or other ofmy bonds. In four hours of constant effort I had moved a foot perhaps,but then I gave up in despair, for I had still a yard to go and alreadythe candle guttered in its socket.

  Jussieu was the next to visit me, bearing on a tray my mid-day meal.After eating heartily, I tested him in much the fashion I had tried onBeudant. He gave me similar replies, and I rewarded him with similarmaledictions. But instead of flying from my oaths as the other negrohad, to my astonishment, he quelled me with a rolling sermon, deliveredin the finest Lutheran style. Texts quivered from his tongue, likeshafts of lightning in a storm, and the black canting hypocrite, whowas ready at his master's nod to murder me, dared preach to me ofpenitence, and summoned me in thunderous tones to prepare my soul fordeath.

  At first rage and indignation held me speechless; but when the humourof the situation struck me properly, I yelled with laughter, andlaughed and laughed until my ribs ached and the tears trickled down mycheeks.

  When I had sobered he was gone, and I was glad, despite the dark. I amtoo good a hypocrite myself to endure a man whose hypocrisy may bepierced with a pin. And though I had laughed at him, too much ofJussieu would have made me sick.

  Seven hours later Sir Charles Venner entered my prison cellar with hisebony attendants, who bore between them a small table spread withlamps, and one or two strange ugly looking implements.

  The surgeon wore a gloomy look, and he made no answer to my courteousgreeting. But bidding Beudant shut the door, he turned to me and said:--

  "Hume, after all you lied to me!"

  "What!" I cried as if dumbfounded. Then quickly recovering mycountenance, I exclaimed. "Oh, yes, yes. You have discovered it. Yes,yes, I lied to you. The jewels are really hidden behind the secondvolume of Bruton's "Anatomy of Melancholy" in the bookshelf on theeastern wall of Sir William Dagmar's library."

  Sir Charles favoured me with a black frown. "You are such anaccomplished liar!" he said coldly, "that I can no longer rely uponyour unsupported word."

  "What would you do?" I cried.

  "Persuade you to be honest with a foretaste of damnation!"

  At that I felt my blood turn cold within me, and yet strange to say ahot sweat broke out on my forehead and my face.

  "You monster!" I gasped. "You would really torture me?"

  "I shall," he retorted. "Jussieu, will you please to operate."

  "But certainly, monsieur," replied the brutal preacher, with a grin ofmalice which showed me that my laughter had not failed to prick hisvanity.

  He seized one of the implements that I had noted and immediatelyapproached my chair. In another moment my left hand was encased in acurious steel glove, which held the fingers widely separated in rigidiron stalls. I tremulously assured myself this was a farce to try mynerve; and resolving not to watch the leering villain at his work, Ilooked up at Sir Charles, who met my eyes as impassively as ever.

  "A test?" I sneered.

  "Yes, a test," said he.

  Next instant I uttered a scream of agony, for a burning pain hadsuddenly pierced my thumb. I looked at it and saw that a long needlehad been inserted down the joint between the nail and quick. Jussieuwas already busy at my forefinger. "Mercy mercy," I shouted. "I'll tellyou the truth, the truth!"

  "Then speak!"

  "She has them, Marion!"

  "Once more, Jussieu?" said Sir Charles.

  Again that penetrating agony. Again I raved and screamed. Again I sworeI'd tell the truth.

  "Speak!" cried Sir Charles.

  "They are in Sir William Dagmar's library, where I said before,behind----"

  "Once more, Jussieu!" interrupted the surgeon.

  I lost sight of the agonizing periods. I fainted more than once and wasrestored to life by pain. Sometimes I lied, more often still I shriekedaloud the truth, and was not credited. But at last growing wise underthe torture, I perceived what my inquisitor wished me most to say, andI vowed time after time that Marion possessed the jewels, and Marionalone. At last Sir Charles decided to believe me, and my mangled handwas grudgingly released. I was by then well-nigh incapable of feeling,and they might have murdered me without exciting in my breast one addedsolitary pang.

  I fell into a heavy sleep before they left the room, and when I awoke Iwas benumbed and very listless. I became, however, gradually aware thatmuch had been done during my unconsciousness which must have lastedhours. The table remained in the room, and a lamp thereon cast a yellowglitter round the plastered walls. To the left of my chair there yawneda deep hole in the floor, something coffin shaped, with bricks andearth and stones heaped against the wall behind. Two spades weresticking in the rubble, and a pick. Very patently it was a grave, mygrave! I gazed at it with a sort of solemn wonder, but I thought itmight prove a friend, if it would only save me from such horrors as Ishuddered to remember I had lately undergone. After a time I realizedthat I was listening to a faint bubbling sound that seemed to issuefrom my grave. Then I noted in the shadowy depths a whitish froth, andunderstood! My grave promised me, as well as death, obliteration, nay,absolute annihilation. It was partly filled with seething quicklime!

  Beudant came and made me eat and drink. I was very faint and only askedhim for the time. He told me it was two o'clock upon the fourth day ofmy imprisonment.

  While wondering at the news, I fell asleep. Beudant awoke me with morefood and drink. Again I fell asleep, and again I awoke to find myselfbeing softly carried from the cellar of my grave, into an adjoiningroom that was also situated underground, for it, too, was plasteredwalled and windowless. It contained, however, a long rack furnishedwith some dozens of champagne, neck downwards, and most carefullybestowed.

  "A good vintage! I should say," I said to Beudant. Satan himself couldnot have made me to speak to Jussieu, except with sneers.

  "You shall judge, monsieur!" replied the negro, and when he set medown, he took a bottle from the rack and proceeded to unfold the cork.

  "Why this sudden kindness to an _ame damnee_!" I asked indifferently."Has my last hour come?"

  "God knows, monsieur; but you are, I think, to have a visitor, and Ihave orders! Kindly drink!"

  He poured out a full cup of the frothy nectar, and held it to my lips.I quaffed it slowly, and felt the life blood surge anew along my veins.Also I felt my lacerated hand begin to pain, and soon I groaned aloud.Beudant on instant was a kind physician, and I blessed him as he pouredsome warm and grateful balsam on the wounds, and bound my injuredfingers in a swathe of silk.

  "Beudant." said I, "whichever takes me, Beelzebub or Satan, when I go,I'll sing your praises to him as a man of heart."

  "Peace, blasphemer!" grated Jussieu.

  "Peace yourself, you canting hound!" I cried.

  For answer he smote me on the mouth. But that was too much even f
or me,who till that moment honestly believed that I was destitute of pride. Idiscovered at the touch of a blackfellow's paw that, at all events, Ihad a pride of race. I filled my lungs with air and shouted like aStentor: "Help! Help! Murder! Murder!"

  Jussieu shook like a leaf. "You blasted pig!" he muttered--very low."God strike you dead!"

  Truly his religion, for all his preaching, was not deep.

  But Sir Charles Venner's voice answered at once, in very angry tones:"Beudant, Jussieu, what the devil are you doing?"

  Next instant the door opened. I saw the tail end of a flight of bricksteps, and into the room rushed Marion Le Mar, followed less quickly bythe surgeon, who stopped to lock the door behind him. The girl stoppedmidway on the floor. But I did not look at her. I was too deeplyagitated, and I wished to gather up my strength for later use.

  I heard Sir Charles repeat his question. Jussieu replied--"Master, heblasphemed, and I struck him on the mouth."

  Pride of race is a curious thing. I found I could not argue with thenegro, though he had lied.

  The surgeon whipped his servant with a dozen scorching words, thenstrode beside my chair.

  "For this insult, Hume," he said, "I offer you my sincere apologies.Such a thing will not occur again!"

  "Give me another cup of wine," I cried, "and I'll forgive you."

  Within a moment it was held up to my lips, and I drained it at onedraught. I was passionately craving strength to show my hate to Marion.Heaven! How I hated her!

  "More?" asked Sir Charles.

  "No," I answered sullenly; my eyes fell upon the floor.

  "Mademoiselle Le Mar denies that you gave her any packet, Hume?"

  "Does she?"

  "Yes, and she is here to confront you?"

  "Why?"

  "To induce you to confess your falsehood!"

  "And if I don't?"

  "It will go harder with you than before!"

  I ground my teeth. "Bah!" I snarled, "you doubt her word, or you'd nothave brought her here. I see your game, you wish to make her own hertheft by witnessing my torture. But you will fail, you fool. Do youforget that she betrayed me? She'll laugh to hear my screams!"

  Marion spoke for the first time. "Sir Charles," she began, in lowvibrating tones, "this man looks very ill. What have you done with him,and what is the matter with his hand?"

  "He will tell you," said the surgeon curtly.

  I looked up at her for the first time. Her eyes were dilated, and fullof passionate questioning.

  "You pretty actress!" I sneered, "you know nothing, oh, of course, youknow nothing!"

  "Miss Le Mar knows nothing, Hume," said Sir Charles, in tones of ice."But it is time she knew. You will tell her, or shall I?"

  "You," I muttered. I was a little dazed. Marion had not thought to haveme tortured then. I had to readjust my mind, concerning her.

  Sir Charles nodded, and the girl and he gazed into each other's eyes.

  "Tell me!" she cried.

  "His fingers have been pierced with frozen probes between the nail andquick!"

  It seemed to me that an hour passed before their glances parted. But atlast Marion uttered a little gasping sigh and slowly turned to me. Herface was very pale. "How you must loathe me!" she muttered.

  "Yes!" I answered simply. "But you will better understand how much, ifyou will trouble to explore the room I lately occupied!"

  "Come!" said Sir Charles, at once, and he strode across the cellar.

  They were not absent long, yet when they returned Marion had somecolour in her face. It seemed they had been talking, but I heard theend of their discourse.

  "You should have known it, child," Sir Charles was saying. "I did notuse bald words, because I trusted your intelligence. 'A long voyage'was the term I used. It bore one application only in my mind. You mustperceive how utterly impossible it is that he should live. Why, if wekept him prisoner, he might escape--ten, twenty years hence even, andyet he still could ruin us!"

  "But you spoke also of an island?"

  "An island of dreams, Marion!" he replied impatiently. "Come, come, wewaste time. You must be sensible!"

  She bowed her head before him and appeared to think.

  "Come, come," he said again, still more impatiently.

  "Wait!" she replied. "I begin to understand."

  "Well!"

  "Mr. Hume spoke truly, monsieur, you doubted my word, and that is whyyou brought me here. You think it possible that I have the jewels. Isit not so?"

  "Yes to all your questions!"

  "And unless M. Hume confesses that he lied about the packet, I mustbehold his torture and listen to his screams!"

  "Unhappily, my child!"

  "Why should you doubt my word, monsieur? Have I ever in my lifedeceived you?"

  He shrugged his shoulders. "How can I tell!" he sneered.

  "Perhaps, perhaps, m'sieur--if he withstands the torture and persiststo lie, you will then torture me? You do not see, though I see. He hasplanned that you should bring me here for his revenge. Therefore, hewill not tell the truth! Will you torture me, m'sieur?"

  "My child, you are a fool. It is the truth that I am seeking. I wouldgive you the jewels, if you needed them. But this I shall notdo--permit that man to triumph over me, in one iota! Why, Marion"--hisvoice broke--"he once obliged me to shake hands with him!"

  I thrilled to hear him, for I saw he spoke the truth, and I understoodat last how bitterly he had brooked the way that I had used him. Icould write a sermon here on pride and vanity, if I had a mind. Goodheavens! to what heights will they not drive, to what depths will theynot drag their victims! But let another pen than mine essay the task.It is Homeric and beyond my powers to do it justice.

  Marion left the surgeon's side, and came very close to me. "Agar Hume,"she murmured, "I have used you ill, but how ill I did not dream tillnow. As God hears me I would never have betrayed you, if I had known itcould have meant, what it has meant, and means!"

  "Go on!" said I, "your voice is very sweet."

  "You loved me once," she whispered.

  "I did indeed."

  "By the memory of that love I implore you now to speak the truth andforfeit your revenge. I am only a woman, monsieur, surely my punishmentis great enough in knowing that I have brought you to your death!"

  "I'm not dead yet, mademoiselle. You reproach yourself too soon."

  "But you will die!" she cried.

  "When it is written."

  She clasped her hands and gazed at me beseechingly. "I want you to lookback into a night, one night," she muttered very low, "I asked whatwould you give me for my love, and you replied, 'all that I can!'"

  "Too true. I was sincere as well in what I said."

  "Then give to me the memory of a man!"

  "And you will keep the bargain, how? By worshipping that memory?"

  She gave a little moan. "For God's sake," she pleaded, "For God's sake,M. Hume."

  "For man's sake," I retorted, "I shall speak the truth," and lookedbeyond her.

  "Sir Charles," said I, "I thought myself a liar till I met thiswoman--and selfish too beyond comparison. Did you ever hear the maxim Iinvented for the ruling of my life? It was this:--'_First personparamount!_' But look at her! She dwarfs and shadows me so much,without a maxim but her womanhood, that I can only keep my dignity bynoising my defeat. Here am I, bound, helpless, ill, and threatened witha painful death, because of her. But she has jewels which she setsbefore my agony, and she would spare herself the shame of witnessingthat agony. Wherefore she tries to fool me to the end, not caring whatI suffer, so that her eyes and ears are not offended."

  Sir Charles nodded his head, and it is very likely he believed me, forhis eyes gleamed scorn at Marion.

  "It is your turn," he said coldly.

  "My turn, monsieur," she shuddered and turned crimson, it seemed to mewith passion.

  "Your turn," he repeated.

  "Very well!" she cried in a voice grown hoarse and desperate. "Torturehim! Torture him! Th
at is all I have to say!"

  Sir Charles glanced from her to the negroes. "Light the stove," he said.

  The wretches disappeared behind my chair, and I heard one strike alucifer.

  "What is the bill of fare?" I jauntily inquired.

  The surgeon smiled evilly. "I am too good a host to keep you insuspense!" he said. "For hors d'oeuvre, Jussieu will stroke your soleswith red hot needles. Potage--we'll fill you palms with boiling oil.The entree----"

  "Hold, monsieur!" I cried. "You go too fast. You'll spoil my appetite!"

  "Your nerve is excellent!" he grudgingly admitted. "But how long willit last? Beudant, be good enough to bare our patient's feet."

  Beudant obeyed. I have well-shaped feet, with not a blemish uponeither. I was not ashamed to have them publicly exhibited. I could notsee them myself because of my position, but Marion looked at them, andher glance was quickly riveted. Her lips were moving, and she seemed tobe muttering to herself, although I heard no sound. God in Heaven! howbeautiful she was, and how I hated her!

  Within a few minutes, Jussieu re-appeared, bearing an iron plate, uponwhich was arrayed a brace of steel awls, set in wooden handles. Thepoints glimmered blue and red. At a nod from Sir Charles Venner, mychair was tipped back in order to raise the soles of my feet. My ankleswere strapped securely to the legs of the chair.

  Jussieu set his plate upon the floor, and taking one of the awls in hishand, glanced up at his master.

  "One moment!" cried Marion. She darted to the rack and seized thehalf-emptied champagne bottle which Beudant had opened for my benefit.Disdaining the cup, whose rim my lips had touched, she raised thebottle to her mouth and bending back her head drank deeply.

  Sir Charles and I exchanged glances of amusement. A little later Marionrecovered her position, but she continued to hold the bottle. The winehad produced an instantaneous and curious effect. She was snow white,and her eyes were dull and turgid. "I am ready!" she declared.

  The surgeon stepped to the side of my chair, and presenting his back toMarion put his fingers on my right wrist.

  Jussieu kneeled upon the floor, and passed his accursed awl across myinstep. The pain was so exquisite that, although I fought like a tigerfor control, I writhed and groaned.

  The torture seared again, and then I shrieked.

  But Marion glided forward, and raising the heavy bottle that she heldon high, she brought it down with a crashing blow upon Sir CharlesVenner's undefended head. The glass shivered into fragments, and thesurgeon fell without groan or cry, unconscious at my feet.

  My chair was unexpectedly released. I swung forward, seated erectagain, helpless and suffering intensely, but uplifted to a mentalcontempt of pain in a sudden rapture of astonishment. Marion, who hadstepped back almost to the farthest wall, faced the negroes with alittle cocked pistol, which did not waver in her grasp. Her face wasstill ashen coloured, but her eyes were simply on fire.

  "M. Jussieu!" said she, her voice was like a silver bell, "take up yourmaster, if you want to live, and carry him into the other cellar!"

  The negro did not move. He glared at her from where he kneeled, like afrozen image.

  "In five seconds I shall kill you!" said the girl. "One--two--"

  Jussieu uttered a raucous cry, and scrambled to his feet. Stoopingquickly he seized the body of Sir Charles and staggered off.

  "Beudant," said Marion, "lock that door quick!"

  Beudant sprang to obey. I heard him slam the door and shoot home thebolts.

  "Now," said the girl, "release M. Hume and take care not to hurt him."

  In a moment I was free. But I could not move so much as a muscle. I hadbeen four days in the chair, and I was not only cramped, but ill,frightfully ill. There was not an organ in my body that did not beginto give me agony immediately the supporting straps relaxed. Even as Iswayed forward, I shrieked with pain and swooned. When I awoke I wasstretched out at length upon the floor, and Beudant was kneading myhalf-naked limbs and body with all the strength and science of askilled masseur. Marion, seated at a little distance on the chair, keptthe muzzle of her pistol pointed at the negro's head. From theadjoining chamber a curious babel of sounds proceeded. Sir CharlesVenner's voice, raised in passionate entreaties and commands, mingledwith the noise of continual digging. Was Jussieu trying to dig a wayout? For a moment I wondered why he did not attack the door with hispick, but then I remembered it was thick and stout and heavily boundwith iron.

  For another hour Beudant continued his massage, and Marion uttered noword nor made one move. I could not speak, because the pain I sufferedobliged me to lock my teeth to keep from shrieking, and even as it wasI often groaned. Beudant paused at last in sheer fatigue, and Marionpermitted him to rest. Afterwards the negro dressed me, and bound up mywounded foot. He also gave me more champagne and assisted me to rise. Ifound that I could stand, but my muscles were flaccid and unstrung,while every nerve was raw and quivering. I could not move withoutassistance. At Marion's command Beudant took me in his arms. He wasvery strong, that negro, and he bore me as easily as I might have donea child. She opened the door, and we passed out before her, and mounteda flight of brick steps into a kitchen above. Marion bolted the doorand followed us like a shadow. I was carried thence out into the night,across a long flagged yard into a stable, Marion always close behindus, with a lanthorn in her hand. I was deposited upon a truss of straw,from which vantage post I watched Beudant, under the guidance of thepistol, harness a quiet-looking horse, and attach it to the shafts of asmall basket phaeton. The negro then lifted me into the body of thevehicle, and mounting to the box took up the reins. Marion climbed inand sat beside me. "Drive to London, Beudant," she said quietly, "andif you value your life keep your eyes before you!"

  Heaven preserve me from the horrors of such another drive. At everyjolt and rumble of the phaeton I felt as though I were being torn apartupon a rack. My moans made such hideous music for the road, that oftenwe were stopped by travellers with courteous questions of my state.Marion addressed me several times with the same request: "For God'ssake, monsieur, let me give you an injection of morphia. It will easeyour pain!"

  But I loathed her, and distrusted her.

  "Better the pain," was my invariable response. "Better the pain!"

  "How you hate me," she would cry. "How you hate me!"

  Sometimes I felt her shiver, but not often, for I kept as closely to mycorner as I could, and if by chance she touched me, curses trembled tomy lips which I had work to stifle.

  We drove so slowly that morning had already dawned before we reachedthe outskirts of the city. We stopped then at an inn, where Beudant'sshouts procured a flask of spirits, which I drank to drug my suffering.Afterwards I did not groan, for though the brandy scarcely eased mypain, it gave me strength to smother its expression.

  Marion put away her pistol soon, for the road was full of vehicles, andBeudant was no longer to be feared. The girl's face in the earlymorning light was pitifully lined and haggard. I watched her, but shekept her gaze set straight before, as though conscious of my sternregard. Every now and then too, she caught her breath, and shuddered asthough she were remembering. Our silence lasted until we came toNotting Hill, when I became aware of a certain chilling curiosityconcerning her.

  "Now that you have broken with your friends," I muttered suddenly,"what will you do?"

  She did not move, yet she answered at once in tones of deep humility."Whatever you wish, monsieur!"

  "Whatever I wish," I sneered. "What has my wish to do with you?"

  She turned her head and looked into my eyes. "I have used you very ill,monsieur! I would make atonement, though, if you will let me!"

  "How?"

  "In any way you please."

  "Would you marry me, mademoiselle?"

  "Yes, monsieur."

  "You conceive then that you owe me extraordinary reparation?"

  "The greatest possible," she answered very softly.

  I knew then that I loved her still, in spite of better caus
e for hatethan love; but so deep was my bitterness and sense of injury againsther, that I felt perfectly incapable of magnanimity.

  "Your penitence is of sudden growth," I sneered.

  "It is none the less sincere, monsieur!"

  "And your humility?"

  "That too, monsieur."

  "I need a wife less than a servant who will nurse me!" I said coldly.

  "I will serve you, monsieur."

  I looked away and reflected deeply on her words. But though I tried, Icould not understand her, and ignorance intensified distrust. Yet Iforesaw that a period of sickness lay before me, and I could notbelieve that she had saved me to again betray me. Some one I must leanupon--it was imperative. She watched me in most evident anxiety,scarcely breathing the while.

  I turned at last, and said:

  "Have you money?"

  "None, monsieur."

  I felt my lip curl. It was, then, poverty which had inspired her abjectself-surrender--and perhaps, too, fear. No doubt she relied upon my aidto escape Sir Charles Venner's vengeance.

  She read my thought, and murmured very low: "As God hears me, you areunjust, monsieur!"

  "We shall see!" I sneered. "Stop the phaeton!" We had come upon acab-stand. Beudant transferred me into a fourwheeler, and Marionthereupon commanded him to return to Staines. When he had departed, Igave her my Bruton Street address, and thither, in perfect silence, weproceeded. My gaolers had disdained to rob me, but my pockets containedless than four pounds, and it was necessary to provide immediatelyagainst the illness I anticipated.

  When we had arrived, I explained to her the situation of my room, andbade her bring me down my cash-box, in which reposed my cheque-book andall my bank receipts. The box I knew was locked, but, in order toensure its privacy, I obliged her to detach my latch-key from theothers and give me back the bunch. She obeyed me with a sigh, and infive minutes she placed the cash-box in my hands.

  "Where to now, monsieur?" she asked humbly, with downcast eyes.

  "To the Colonnade Hotel."

  She spoke to the driver and resumed her seat. Upon arriving at ourdestination, two porters carried me within, and I engaged two adjoiningrooms on the third floor, to the larger of which I was carefullytransported. To all seeming, I was a wounded man in charge of a nurse,for Marion wore her uniform, and I explained to the clerk that ourluggage would presently follow us from the station, where we had leftit. We were thus able to circumvent Mother Grundy's spirit ofconventionality without the necessity of answering a single question.

  With Marion's assistance I got to bed, where I lay for some timeconvulsed with agony. As soon as I could, however, I wrote a cheque forL100, which I gave to her for our joint use. My last recollection is ofenjoining upon her a course of conduct designed to secure us from thepersecution of our enemies, and directing her to purchase certaintrunks and clothes so that our want of luggage might not be evillyconstrued. Before I had finished, however, I had to spur my wits withbrandy, and within an hour I was tossing in a high fever, to allintents and purposes a helpless raving lunatic.