CHAPTER X
"I don't think," Engleton said slowly, "that I care about playing any more—just now."
The Princess yawned as she leaned back in her chair. Both Forrest and De la Borne, who had left his place to turn up one of the lamps, glanced stealthily round at the speaker.
"I am not keen about it myself," Forrest said smoothly. "After all, though, it's only three o'clock."
Cecil's fingers shook, so that his tinkering with the lamp failed, and the room was left almost in darkness. Forrest, glad of an excuse to leave his place, went to the great north window and pulled up the blind. A faint stream of grey light stole into the room. The Princess shrieked, and covered her face with her hands.
"For Heaven's sake, Nigel," she cried, "pull that blind down! I do not care for these Rembrandtesque effects. Tobacco ash and cards and my complexion do not look at their best in such a crude light."
Forrest obeyed, and the room for a moment was in darkness. There was a somewhat curious silence. The Princess was breathing softly but quickly. When at last the lamp burned up again, every one glanced furtively toward the young man who was leaning back in his chair with his eyes fixed absently upon the table.
"Well, what is it to be?" Forrest asked, reseating himself. "One more rubber or bed?"
"I've lost a good deal more than I care to," Cecil remarked in a somewhat unnatural tone, "but I say another brandy and soda, and one more rubber. There are some sandwiches behind you, Engleton."
"Thank you," Engleton answered without looking up. "I am not hungry."
The Princess took up a fresh pack of cards, and let them fall idly through her fingers. Then she took a cigarette from the gold case which hung from her chatelaine, and lit it.
"One more rubber, then," she said. "After that we will go to bed."
The others came toward the table, and the Princess threw down the cards. They all three cut. Engleton, however, did not move.
"I think," he said, "that you did not quite understand me. I said that I did not care to play any more."
"Three against one," the Princess remarked lightly.
"Why not play cut-throat, then?" Engleton remarked. "It would be an excellent arrangement."
"Why so?" Forrest asked.
"Because you could rob one another," Engleton said. "It would be interesting to watch."
A few seconds intense silence followed Engleton's words. It was the Princess who spoke first. Her tone was composed but chilly. She looked toward Engleton with steady eyes.
"My dear Lord Ronald," she said, "is this a joke? I am afraid my sense of humour grows a little dull at this hour of the morning."
"It was not meant for a joke," Engleton said. "My words were spoken in earnest."
The Princess, without any absolute movement, seemed suddenly to become more erect. One forgot her rouge, her blackened eyebrows, her powdered cheeks. It was the great lady who looked at Engleton.
"Are we to take this, Lord Ronald," she asked, "as a serious accusation?"
"You can take it for what it is, madam," Engleton answered—"the truth."
Cecil de la Borne rose to his feet and leaned across the table. His cheeks were as pale as death. His voice was shaking.
"I am your host, Engleton," he said, "and I demand an explanation of what you have said. Your accusation is absurd. You must be drunk or out of your senses."
"I am neither drunk nor out of my senses," Engleton answered, "nor am I such an utter fool as to be so easily deceived. The fact that you, as my partner, played like an idiot, made rotten declarations, and revoked when one rubber was nearly won, I pass over. That may or may not have been your miserable idea of the game. Apart from that, however, I regret to have discovered that you, Forrest, and you, madam," he added, addressing the Princess, "have made use throughout the last seven rubbers of a code with your fingers, both for the declarations and for the leads. My suspicions were aroused, I must confess, by accident. It was remarkably easy, however, to verify them. Look here!"
Engleton touched his forehead.
"Hearts!" he said.
He touched his lip.
"Diamonds!" he added.
He passed his fingers across his eyebrows.
"Clubs!" he remarked.
He beat with his fourth finger softly upon the table.
"Spades!"
Major Forrest rose to his feet.
"Lord Ronald," he said, "I am exceedingly sorry that owing to my introduction you have become a guest in this house. As for your ridiculous accusation, I deny it."
"And I," the Princess murmured.
"Naturally," Engleton answered smoothly. "I really do not see what else you could do. I regret very much to have been the unfortunate means of breaking up such a pleasant little house-party. I am going to my room now to change my clothes, and I will trespass upon your hospitality, Mr. De la Borne, only so far as to beg you to let me have a cart, or something of the sort, to drive me into Wells, as soon as your people come on the scene."
Engleton rose to his feet, and with a stiff little bow, walked toward the door. He, too, seemed somehow during the last few minutes to have shown signs of a greater virility than was at any time manifest in his boyish, somewhat unintelligent, face. He carried himself with a new dignity, and he spoke with the decision of an older man. For a moment they watched him go. Then Forrest, obeying a lightning-like glance from the Princess, crossed the room swiftly and stood with his back to the door.
"Engleton," he said, "this is absurd. We can afford to ignore your mad behaviour and your discourtesy, but before you leave this room we must come to an understanding."
Lord Ronald stood with his hands behind his back.
"I had imagined," he said, "that an understanding was exactly what we had come to. My words were plain enough, were they not? I am leaving this house because I have found myself in the company of sharks and card-sharpers."
Forrest's eyes narrowed. A quick little breath passed between his teeth. He took a step forward toward the young man, as though about to strike him.
Engleton, however, remained unmoved.
"You are going to carry away a story like this?" he said hoarsely.
"I shall tell my friends," Engleton answered, "just as much or as little as I choose of my visit here. Since, however, you are curious, I may say that should I find you at any future time in any respectable house, it will be my duty to inform any one of my friends who are present of the character of their fellow-guest. Will you be so good as to stand away from that door?"
"No!" Forrest answered.
Engleton turned toward Cecil.
"Mr. De la Borne," he said, "may I appeal to you, as it is your house, to allow me egress from it?"
Cecil came hesitatingly up to the two. The Princess, with a sweep of her skirts, followed him.
"Major Forrest is right," she declared. "We cannot have this madman go back to London to spread about slanderous tales. Major Forrest will stand away from that door, Lord Ronald, as soon as you pass your word that what has happened to-night will remain a secret."
Engleton laughed contemptuously.
"Not I," he answered. "Exactly what I said to Major Forrest, I repeat, madam, to you, and to you, sir, my host. I shall give my friends the benefit of my experience whenever it seems to me advisable."
Forrest locked the door, and put the key into his pocket.
"We shall hope, Lord Ronald," he said quietly, "to induce you to change your mind."
CHAPTER XI
"Every one down for luncheon!" Jeanne declared. "What energy! Where is Lord Ronald, by the by?" she added, looking around the room. "He promised to take me out sailing this morning. I wonder if I missed him on the marshes."
The Princess yawned, and glanced at the clock.
"By this time," she remarked, "Lord Ronald is probably in London. He had a telegram or something in the middle of the night, and went away early this morning."
Jeanne looked at them in surprise.
"How queer!" she remarked. "I was down before nine o'clock. Had he left then?"
"Long before then, I believe," Forrest answered. "He is very likely coming back in a day or two."
Jeanne nodded indifferently. The intelligence, after all, was of little importance to her.
"Has the luncheon gong gone?" she asked. "I have been out since ten o'clock, and I am starving."
Cecil led the way across the hall into the dining-room.
"Come along," he said. "I wish we all had such healthy appetites."
She glanced at him, and then at the others.
"Well," she said, "you certainly look as though you had been up very late last night. What is the matter with you all?"
"We were very foolish," Major Forrest said softly. "We sat up a great deal too late, and I am afraid that we all smoked too many cigarettes. You see it was our last night, for without Engleton our bridge is over."
"We must try," Cecil said, "and find some other form of entertainment for you. Would you like to sail again this afternoon, Princess?"
"I believe," she answered, "that I should like it if I may have plenty of cushions and a soft place for my head, so that if I feel like it I can go to sleep. Really, these late nights are dreadful. I am almost glad that Lord Ronald has gone. At least there will be no excuse for us to sit up until daylight."
"To-night," Major Forrest remarked, "let us all be primitive. We will go to bed at eleven o'clock, and get up in the morning and walk with Miss Le Mesurier upon the marshes. What do you find upon the sands, I wonder," he added, turning a little suddenly toward the girl, "to bring such a colour to your cheeks, and to keep you away from us for so many hours?"
Jeanne looked at him for a moment without change of features.
"It would not be easy," she said, "for me to tell you, for I find things there which you could not appreciate or understand."
"You find them alone?" Major Forrest asked smiling.
She turned her left shoulder upon him and addressed her host.
"Major Forrest is very impertinent," she said. "I think that I will not talk with him any more. Tell me, Mr. De la Borne, do you really mean that we can go sailing this afternoon?"
"If you will," he answered. "I have sent down to the village to tell them to bring the boat up to our harbourage."
She nodded.
"I shall love it," she declared. "It will be such a good thing for you three, too, because it will make you all sleepy, and then you will be able to go to bed and not worry about your bridge. When is Lord Ronald coming back?"
"He was not quite sure," the Princess remarked. "It depends upon the urgency of his business which summoned him away."
"How odd," Jeanne remarked, "to think of Lord Ronald as having any business at all. I cannot understand even now why I did not hear the car go. My room is just over the entrance to the courtyard."
"It is a proof," Major Forrest remarked, "that you sleep as soundly as you deserve."
"I am not so sure about that," Jeanne said. "Last night, for instance, it seemed to me that I heard all manner of strange sounds."
Cecil de la Borne looked up quickly.
"Sounds?" he repeated. "Do you mean noises in the house?"
She nodded.
"Yes, and voices! Once I thought that you must be all quarrelling, and then I thought that I heard some one fall down. After that there was nothing but the opening and shutting of doors."
"And after that," the Princess remarked smiling, "you probably went to sleep."
"Exactly," Jeanne admitted. "I went to sleep listening for footsteps. I think it was very rude of Ronald to go away without saying good-bye to me."
"You would have thought it still ruder," Cecil remarked, "if he had had you roused at five o'clock or so to make his adieux."
The Princess and Jeanne left the table together a few minutes before the other two, and Jeanne asked her stepmother a question.
"How long are we going to stop here?" she inquired. "I thought that our visit was for two or three days only."
The Princess hesitated.
"Cecil is such a nice boy," she said, "and he is so anxious to have us stay a little longer. What do you say? You are not bored?"
"I am not bored," Jeanne answered, "so long as you can keep him from saying silly things to me. On the contrary, I like to be here. I like it better than London. I like it better than any place I have been in since I left school."
The Princess looked at her a little curiously.
"I wonder," she said, "whether I ought to be looking after you a little more closely, my child. What do you do on the marshes there all the time? Do you talk with this Mr. Andrew?"
"I went with him in his boat this morning," Jeanne answered composedly. "It was very pleasant. We had a delightful sail."
The Princess shrugged her shoulders.
"Well," she said, "one must amuse oneself, and I suppose it is only reasonable that we should all choose different ways. I think I need not tell even such a child as you that men are the same all the world over, and that even a fisherman, if he is encouraged, may be guilty sometimes of an impertinence."
Jeanne raised her eyebrows.
"I have not the slightest fear," she said, "that Mr. Andrew would ever be guilty of anything of the sort. I wish I could say the same of some of the people whom I have met in our own circle of society."
The Princess smiled tolerantly.
"Nowadays," she remarked, "it is perfectly true that men do take too great liberties. Well, amuse yourself with your fisherman, my dear child. It is your legitimate occupation in life to make fools of all manner of men, and there is no harm in your beginning as low down as you choose if it amuses you."
Jeanne walked deliberately away. The Princess laughed a little uneasily. As she watched Jeanne ascend the stairs, Forrest and Cecil came out into the hall. They all three moved together into the further corner, where coffee was set out upon a small table, and it was significant that they did not speak a word until they were there, and even then Major Forrest looked cautiously around before he opened his lips.
"Well?" he asked.
The Princess smiled scornfully at their white, anxious faces.
"What are you afraid of?" she asked contemptuously. "Jeanne suspects nothing, of course. There is nothing which she could suspect. She has not mentioned his name even."
Cecil drew a little breath of relief. His face seemed to have grown haggard during the last few hours.
"I wish to God," he muttered, "we were out of this!"
The Princess turned her head and looked at him coldly.
"My young friend," she said, "you men are all the same. You have no philosophy. The inevitable has happened, or rather the inevitable has been forced upon us. What we have done we did deliberately. We could not do otherwise, and we cannot undo it. Remember that. And if you have a grain of philosophy or courage in you, keep a stouter heart and wear a smile upon your face."
Cecil rose to his feet.
"You are right," he said. "Are you ready, Forrest? Will you come with me?"
Forrest rose slowly to his feet.
"Of course," he said. "By the by, a sail this afternoon was a good idea. We must develop an interest in country pursuits. It is possible even," he added, "that we may have to take to golf."
The Princess, too, rose.
"Come into my room, one of you," she said, "and see me for a moment, afterwards. I suppose we shall start for our sail about three?"
Cecil nodded.
"The boat will be here by then," he said.
"And I will come up and bring you the news, if there is any," Forrest added.
CHAPTER XII
The man who stood with a telescope glued to his eye watching the coming boat, shut it up at last with a little snap. He walked round to the other side of the cottage, where Andrew was sitting with a pipe in his mouth industriously mending a fishing net.
"Andrew," he said, "there are some people coming here, and I am almost sure that they mean to land."
Andrew rose to his feet and strolled round to the little stretch of beach in front of the cottage. When he saw who it was who approached, he stopped short and took his pipe from his mouth.
"By Jove, it's Cecil," he exclaimed, "and his friends!"
His companion nodded. He was a man still on the youthful side of middle age, with bronzed features, and short, closely-cut beard. He looked what he was, a traveller and a sportsman.
"So I imagined," he said, "but I don't see Ronald there."
Andrew shaded his eyes with his hand.
"No!" he said. "There is the Princess and Cecil, and Major Forrest and Miss Le Mesurier. No one else. They certainly do look as though they were going to land here."
"Why not?" the other man remarked. "Why shouldn't Cecil come to visit his hermit brother?"
Andrew frowned.
"Berners," he said, "I want you to remember this. If they land here and you see anything of them, will you have the goodness to understand that I am Mr. Andrew, fisherman, and that you are my lodger?"
Andrew's companion looked at him in surprise.
"What sort of a game is this, Andrew?" he asked.
Andrew de la Borne shrugged his shoulders and smiled good-naturedly.
"Never mind about that, Dick," he answered. "Call it a whim or anything else you like. The fact is that Cecil had some guests coming whom I did not particularly care to meet, and who certainly would not have been interested in me. I thought it would be best to clear out altogether, so I have left Cecil in possession of the Hall, and they don't even know that I exist."
The man named Berners looked up at his host with twinkling eyes.
"Right!" he said. "So far as I am concerned, you shall be Mr. Andrew, fisherman. Will you also kindly remember that if any curiosity is evinced as to my identity, I am Mr. Berners, and that I am here for a rest-cure. By the by, how are you going to explain that elderly domestic of yours?"
"He is your servant, of course," Andrew answered. "He understands the position. I have spoken to him already. Yes, they are coming here right enough! Suppose you help me to pull in the boat for them."
The two men sauntered down to the shelving beach. The boat was close to them now, and Cecil was standing up in the bows.
"We want to land for a few minutes," he called out.
"Throw a rope, then," Andrew answered briefly. "You had better come in this side of the landing-stage."
The rope was thrown, and the boat dragged high and dry upon the pebbly beach. The Princess, after a glance at him through her lorgnette, surrendered herself willingly to Andrew's outstretched hands.
"I am quite sure," she said, "that you will not let me fall. You must be the wonderful person whom my daughter has told me about. Is this queer little place really your home?"
"I live here," Andrew de la Borne said simply.
Jeanne leaned over towards him.
"Won't you please help me, Mr. Andrew?" she said, smiling down at him.
He held out his arms, and she sprang lightly to the ground.
"I hope you don't mind our coming," she said to him. "I was so anxious to see your cottage."
"There is little enough to see," Andrew answered, "but you are very welcome."
"We are sorry to trouble you," Cecil said, a little uneasily, "but would it be possible to give these ladies some tea?"
"Certainly," Andrew answered. "I will go and get it ready."
"Oh, what fun!" Jeanne declared. "I am coming to help. Please, Mr. Andrew, do let me help. I am sure I could make tea."
"It is not necessary, thank you," Andrew answered. "I have a lodger who has brought his own servant. As it happens he was just preparing some tea for us. If you will come round to the other side, where it is a little more sheltered, I will bring you some chairs."
They moved across the grass-grown little stretch of sand. The Princess peered curiously at Berners.
"Your face," she remarked, "seems quite familiar to me."
Berners did not for the moment answer her. He was looking towards Forrest, who was busy lighting a cigarette.
"I am afraid, madam," he said, after a slight pause, "that I cannot claim the honour of having met you."
The Princess was not altogether satisfied. Jeanne had gone on with Andrew, and she followed slowly walking with Berners.
"I have such a good memory for faces," she remarked, "and I am very seldom mistaken."
"I am afraid," Berners said, "that this must be one of those rare occasions. If you will allow me I will go and help Andrew bring out some seats."
He disappeared into the cottage, and came out again almost directly with a couple of chairs. This time he met Forrest's direct gaze, and the two men stood for a moment or two looking at one another. Forrest turned uneasily away.
"Who the devil is that chap?" he whispered to Cecil. "I'll swear I've seen him somewhere."
"Very likely," Cecil answered wearily, throwing himself down on the turf. "I've no memory for faces."
Jeanne had stepped into the cottage, and gave a little cry of delight as she found herself in a small sitting-room, the walls of which were lined with books and guns and fishing-tackle.
"What a delightful room, Mr. Andrew!" she exclaimed. "Why—"
She paused and looked up at him, a little mystified.
"Do the fishermen in Norfolk read Shakespeare and Keats?" she asked. "And French books, too, De Maupassant and De Musset?"
"They are my lodger's," Andrew answered. "This is his room. I sit in the kitchen when I am at home."
His dialect was more marked than ever, and his answer had been delivered without any hesitation. Nevertheless, Jeanne was still a little puzzled.
"May I come into the kitchen, please?" she asked.
"Certainly," he answered. "You will find Mr. Berners' servant there getting tea ready."
Jeanne peeped in, and looked back at Andrew, who was standing behind her.
"What a lovely stone floor!" she exclaimed. "And your copper kettle, too, is delightful! Do you mean that when you have not a lodger here, you cook and do everything for yourself?"
"There are times," he answered composedly, "when I have a little assistance. It depends upon whether the fishing season has been good."
Berners came in, and threw himself into an easychair in the sitting-room.
"Make what use you like of my man, Andrew," he said. "I will have a cup of tea in here afterwards."
"I'm very much obliged, sir," Andrew answered.
The Princess called out to him, and he stepped back once more to where they were all sitting.
"It is a shame," she said, "that we drive your lodger away from his seat. Will you not ask him to take tea with us?"
"I am afraid," Andrew answered, "that he is not a very sociable person. He has come down here because he wants a complete rest, and he does not speak to any one unless he is obliged. He has just asked me to have his tea sent into his room."
"Where does he come from, this strange man?" the Princess asked. "It is all the time in my mind that I have met him somewhere. I am sure that he is one of us."
"I believe that he lives in London," Andrew answered, "and his name is Berners, Mr. Richard Berners."
"I do not seem to remember the name," the Princess remarked, "but the man's face worries me. What a delightful looking tea-tray! Mr. Andrew, you must really sit down with us. We ought to apologize for taking you by storm like this, and I have not thanked you yet for being so kind to my daughter." Andrew stepped back toward the cottage with a firm refusal upon his lips, but Jeanne's hand suddenly rested upon the arm of his coarse blue jersey.
"If you please, Mr. Andrew," she begged, "I want you to sit by me and tell me how you came to live in so strange a place. Do you really not mind the solitude?"
Andrew looked down at her for a moment without answering. For the first time, perhaps, he realized the charm of her pale expressive face with its rapid changes, and the soft insistent fire of her beautiful eyes. He hesitated for a moment and then remained where he was, leaning against the flag-staff.
"It is very good of you, miss," he said. "As to why I came to live here, I do so simply because the house belongs to me. It was my father's and his father's. We folk who live in the country make few changes."
She looked at him curiously. The men whom she had known, even those of the class to whom he might be supposed to belong, were all in a way different. This man talked only when he was obliged. All the time she felt in him the attraction of the unknown. He answered her questions and remarks in words, the rest remained unspoken. She looked at him contemplatively as he stood by her side with a tea-cup in his hand, leaning still a little against the flag-staff. Notwithstanding his rough clothes and heavy fisherman's boots, there was nothing about his attitude or his speech, save in its dialect, to denote the fact that he was of a different order from that in which she had been brought up. She felt an immense curiosity concerning him, and she felt, too, that it would probably never be gratified. Most men were her slaves from the moment she smiled upon them. This one she fancied seemed a little bored by her presence. He did not even seem to be thinking about her. He was watching steadily and with somewhat bent eyebrows Cecil de la Borne and Forrest. Something struck her as she looked from one to the other.
"I read once," she remarked, "that people who live in a very small village for generation after generation grow to look like one another. In a certain way I cannot conceive two men more unlike, and yet at that moment there was something in your face which reminded me of Mr. De la Borne."
He looked down at her with a quick frown. Decidedly he was annoyed.
"You are certainly the first," he said drily, "who has ever discovered the likeness, if there is any."
"It does not amount to a likeness," she answered, "and you need not look so angry. Mr. De la Borne is considered very good-looking. Dear me, what a nuisance! Do you see? We are going!"
Andrew de la Borne took the cup from her hand and helped to prepare the boat. With a faint smile upon his lips he heard a little colloquy between Cecil and the Princess which amused him. The Princess, as he prepared to hand her into the boat, showed herself at any rate possessed of the instincts of her order. She held out her hand and smiled sweetly upon Andrew.
"We are so much obliged to you for your delightful tea, Mr. Andrew," she said. "I hope that next time my daughter goes wandering about in dangerous places you may be there to look after her."
Andrew looked swiftly away towards Jeanne. Somehow or other the Princess' words seemed to come to him at that moment charged with some secondary meaning. He felt instinctively that notwithstanding her thoroughly advanced airs, Jeanne was little more than a child as compared with these people. She met his eyes with one of her most delightful smiles.
"Some day, I hope," she said, "that you will take me out in the punt again. I can assure you that I quite enjoyed being rescued."
The little party sailed away, Cecil with an obvious air of relief. Andrew turned slowly round, and met his friend issuing from the door of the cottage.
"Andrew," he said, "no wonder you did not care about being host to such a crowd!"
There was meaning in his tone, and Andrew looked at him thoughtfully.
"Do you know—anything definite?" he asked.
Berners nodded.
"About one of them," he said, "I certainly do. I wonder what on earth has become of Ronald. He was with them yesterday."
"Had enough, perhaps," Andrew suggested.
Berners shook his head.
"I am afraid not," he answered slowly. "I wish I could think that he had so much sense."
CHAPTER XIII
Cecil came into the room abruptly, and closed the door behind him. He was breathing quickly as though he had been running. His lips were a little parted, and in his eyes shone an unmistakable expression of fear. Forrest and the Princess both looked towards him apprehensively.
"What is it, Cecil?" the latter asked quickly. "You are a fool to go about the house looking like that."
Cecil came further into the room and threw himself into a chair.
"It is that fellow upon the island," he said. "You remember we all said that his face was familiar. I have seen him again, and I have remembered."
"Remembered what?" the Princess asked.
"Where it was that I saw him last," Cecil answered. "It was in Pall Mall, and he was walking with—with Engleton. It was before I knew him, but I knew who he was. He must be a friend of Engleton's. What do you suppose that he is doing here?"
Cecil was shaking like a leaf. The Princess looked towards him contemptuously.
"Come," she said, "there is no need for you to behave like a terrified child. Even if you have seen him once with Lord Ronald, what on earth is there in that to be terrified about? Lord Ronald had many friends and acquaintances everywhere. This one is surely harmless enough. He behaved quite naturally on the island, remember."
Cecil shook his head.
"I do not understand," he said. "I do not understand what he can be doing in this part of the world, unless he has some object. I saw him just now standing behind a tree at the entrance to the drive, watching me drive golf balls out on to the marsh. I am almost certain that he was about the place last night. I saw some one who looked very much like him pass along the cliffs just about dinner-time."
"You are frightened at shadows," the Princess declared contemptuously. "If he were one of Lord Ronald's friends, and he had come here to look for him, he wouldn't play about watching you from a distance. Besides, there has been no time yet. Lord Ronald only—left here yesterday morning."
"What is he doing, then, watching this house?" Cecil asked. "That is what I do not like."
The Princess raised her eyebrows contemptuously.
"My dear Cecil," she said, "it is just a coincidence, and not a very remarkable one at that. Lord Ronald had the name, you know, of having acquaintances in every quarter of the world."
Cecil drew a little breath.
"It may be all right," he said, "but I am not used to this sort of thing, and it gives me the creeps."
"Of course it is all right," the Princess said composedly. "One would think that we were a pack of children, to take any notice of such trifles. It is too early, my dear Cecil, by many a day, to look for trouble yet. Lord Ronald always wandered about pretty much as he chose. It will be months before—"
"Don't go on," Cecil interrupted. "I suppose I am a fool, but all the time I am fancying things."
Forrest moved away with a little laugh, and the Princess rose and thrust her arm through Cecil's.
"Silly boy!" she said. "You have nothing to be frightened about, I can assure you."
"I am not frightened," Cecil answered. "I don't think that I was ever a coward. All the same, there are some things about this fellow which I don't quite understand."
The Princess laughed as she swept from the room.
"Don't be foolish, Cecil," she said. "Remember that we are all here, and that nothing can go wrong unless we lose our nerve."
Forrest found the Princess alone a little later in the evening, waiting in the hall for the dinner-gong. He drew her into a corner, under pretext of showing her one of the old engravings, dark with age, which hung upon the wall.
"Ena," he said, "I suppose that you trust Cecil de la Borne? You haven't any fear about him, eh?"
The Princess shrugged her shoulders.
"No!" she answered. "He is a coward at heart, but he has enough vanity, I believe, to keep him from doing anything foolish. All the same, I think it is wiser not to leave him alone here."
"He would not stay," Forrest remarked. "He told me so only this morning."
"You suggested leaving?" the Princess asked.
Forrest nodded.
"I couldn't help it," he said, a little sullenly. "There is something about these great empty rooms, and the silence of the place, that's getting on my nerves. I start every time that great front-door bell clangs, or I hear an unfamiliar footstep in the hall. God! What fools we have been," he added, with a sudden bitter strength. "I couldn't have believed that I could ever have done anything so clumsy. Fancy giving ourselves away to a fool like Engleton, a self-opinionated young cub scarcely out of his cradle."
He felt his damp forehead. The Princess was watching him curiously.
"Don't be a fool, Nigel," she said. "We underrated Engleton, that was all. If ever a man looked an idiot, he did, and you must remember that we were in a corner. Yet," she added, leaning a little forward in her chair and gazing with hard, set face into the fire, "it was foolish of me. With Jeanne to play with, I ought to have had no such difficulties. I never counted upon the tradespeople being so unreasonable. If they had let me finish the season it would have been all right."
Forrest walked restlessly across the room, and stood for a moment looking out of the window. Outside, the wind had suddenly changed. The sunshine had departed, and a grey fog was blowing in from the sea. He turned away with a shiver.
"What a cursed place this is!" he muttered. "I've half a mind even now to turn my back upon it and to run."
The Princess watched his pale face scornfully.
"I thought, Nigel," she said, "that you were a more reasonable person. Remember that if we show the white feather now, it is the end of everything—the Colonies, if you like, or a little cheap watering-place at the best. As for me, I might have a better chance of brazening it out, but remember that I could never afford to be seen in the company of a suspected person."
"It was the fear of losing you," he muttered, "which made me so rash."
The Princess laughed very softly.
"My dear friend," she said, "I do not believe you. I may seem to you sometimes very foolish, but at least I understand this. Life with you is self, self, self, and nothing more. You have scarcely a generous instinct, scarcely a spark of real affection left in you."
"And yet—" he began quietly.
"And yet," she whispered, repulsing him with a little gesture, but with a suddenly altered look in her face, "and yet we women are fools!"
She turned round to meet her host, who was crossing the hall, and almost simultaneously the dinner gong rang out. Their party was perhaps a little more cheerful than it had been on any of the last few evenings. Forrest drank more wine than usual, and exerted himself to entertain. Cecil followed his example, and the Princess, who sat by his side, looked often into his face, and whispered now and then in his ear. Jeanne was the only one who was a little distrait. She left the table early, as usual, and slipped out into the garden. The Princess, contrary to her custom, rose from the table and followed her. A sudden change of wind had blown the fog away, and the night was clear. The wind, however, had gathered force, and the Princess held down her elaborately coiffured hair and cried out in dismay.
"My dear Jeanne," she exclaimed, "but it is barbarous to wander about outside a night like this!"
Jeanne laughed. Her own more simply arranged hair was blown all over her face.
"I love it," she explained. "You don't want me indoors. I am going to walk down the grove and look at the sea."
"Come back into the hall one moment," the Princess said. "I want to speak to you."
Jeanne turned unwillingly round, and her step-mother drew her into the shelter of the open door.
"Jeanne," she said, "you seem to meet your friend the fisherman very often. If you should see anything of him to-morrow, I wish you would inquire particularly as to his lodger. You know whom I mean, the man who was on the island with him yesterday afternoon."
Jeanne looked at her stepmother curiously.
"What am I to ask about him?" she demanded.
"Where he comes from, and what he is doing here," the Princess said. "Find out if you can if Berners is really his name. I have a curious idea about him, and Cecil fancies that he has seen him before."
Jeanne looked for a minute interested.
"You are not usually so curious about people," she remarked.
The Princess lowered her voice a little.
"Jeanne," she said, "I will tell you something. Lord Ronald, when he left here, was very angry with us all. There was a quarrel, and he behaved very absurdly. Cecil fancies that this man Berners is a friend of Lord Ronald's. We want to know if it is so."
Jeanne raised her head and looked her stepmother steadily in the face.
"This is all very mysterious," she said. "I do not understand it at all. We seem to be almost in hiding here, seeing no one and going nowhere. And I notice that Major Forrest, whenever he walks even in the garden, is always looking around as though he were afraid of something. What did you quarrel with Lord Ronald about?"
"It is no concern of yours," the Princess answered, a little sharply. "Major Forrest has had a somewhat eventful career, and he has made enemies. It was chiefly his quarrel with Lord Ronald, and it was over a somewhat serious matter. He has an idea that this man Berners is connected with it in some way or other. Do find out if you can, there's a dear child."
"I do not suppose," Jeanne said, "that Mr. Andrew would know anything. However, when I see him I will ask him."
The Princess turned away from the open door, shivering.
"You are not really going out?" she said.
"Certainly I am," Jeanne answered. "I suppose you three will play cards, and it does not interest me to watch you. There is nothing which interests me here at all except the gardens and the sea. I am going down to the beach, and then I shall sit there behind the hollyhocks until it is bedtime."
The Princess looked at her curiously.
"You're a queer child," she said, turning away.
"It is not strange, that," Jeanne answered, with a little curl of the lips.
The Princess went back to the library. Coffee and liqueurs had already been served, and the card-table was set out, although none of the three had the slightest inclination to play. Jeanne walked along the beach and then came back to her favourite seat, sheltered by the little grove of stunted trees and the tall hollyhocks which bordered the garden. Her eyes were fixed upon the darkening sea, whitened here and there by the long straight line of breakers. The marshes on her right hand were hung with grey mists, floating about like weird phantoms, and here and there between them shone the distant lights of the village. She half closed her eyes. The soft falling of the waves upon the sand below, and the murmur of the wind through the bushes and scanty trees was like a lullaby. She sat there she scarcely knew how long. She woke up with a start, conscious that two men were standing talking together within a few yards of her in the rough lane that led down to the sea.