E. Phillips Oppenheim - The Betrayal

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"Well? Go on!" she exclaimed.

"There are some things," I said, "which I have made up my mind to tell
no one. But at least I can assure you of this. I am not nearly in so
desperate a position as you and Colonel Ray seem to think."

She caught hold of my hand and grasped it convulsively. The hard lines
seemed to have fallen away from her face. She smiled tremulously.

"Oh, I am glad!" she declared. "I am glad!"

Just then a carriage passed us, and I saw Lady Angela lean a little
forward in her seat as though to gain a better view of us.

CHAPTER XXXV

ANGELA'S CONFESSION

The Duke was in his study awaiting our arrival. I saw him rise and bow
stiffly to my stepmother. Then I closed the door and left them alone.

I wandered through the house, a little at a loss to know what to do with
myself. It was too soon to go to Ray, and the work on which I was
engaged was all in the study. Just as I passed the drawing-room door,
however, it opened suddenly, and Lady Angela came out, talking to a
white-haired old gentleman, who carried a stick on which he leaned
heavily. He looked at me rather curiously, and then began to hobble
down the hall at a great pace. But Lady Angela laid her hand upon his
arm.

"Why, Sir Michael," she exclaimed, "this won't do at all. You can't
look him in the face and run. Mr. Ducaine, this is Sir Michael
Trogoldy."

He swung round and held out his hand. His eyes searched my face
eagerly.

"Nephew," he said, "I wanted to meet you, and I didn't want to meet you.
God bless my soul! you've got Muriel's eyes and mouth. Come and dine
with me one night next week-any night: let me know. Good-bye, good-bye,
Lady Angela. God bless you. Here, James, give me your arm down the
steps, and whistle for my fellow to draw up. There he is, in the middle
of the road, the blockhead."

Lady Angela and I exchanged glances. I think that we should both have
laughed but for the tears which we had seen in his eyes.

"Poor old man," she murmured. "He is very nervous and very sensitive.
I know that he dreaded seeing you, and yet he came this afternoon for no
other purpose. Will you come into the drawing-room for a moment?"

There was a certain stiffness in her manner, which was new to me. She
remained standing, and her soft dark eyes were full of grave inquiry.

"Mr. Ducaine," she said, "I passed you just now driving in a hansom
with a person--of whom I disapprove. May I know--is it any secret why
you were with her?"

"It is no secret at all, Lady Angela," I answered. "I was sent to fetch
her by your father."

"By my father?" she repeated incredulously. "Do you mean that she is in
this house?"

"Certainly," I answered. "Your father is anxious, I believe, about Lord
Blenavon. It occurred to me that he perhaps hoped to get news of him
from Mrs. Smith-Lessing. At any rate he sent me for her."

She seemed to me to be trembling a little. Her eyes sought mine almost
pathetically. She was afraid of something. In the half-lights she
appeared to me then so frail and girlish that a great wave of tenderness
swept in upon me. I longed to take her into my arms--even to hold her
hands and try to comfort her. Surely to do these things was the
privilege of the man who loved her. And I loved her--loved her so that
the pain and joy of it were woven together like live things in my heart,
fighting always against the grim silence which lay like a seal upon my
lips. But there were moments when I was sorely tried, and this was one
of them. My eyes fell from hers. I dared not look her in the face.

"Is this--all?" she asked falteringly.

"It is all that I know," I answered.

Then we were silent. With a little sigh she sank down in the corner of
a high-backed easy chair. It seemed to me that she was thinner, that
something of the delicate childishness of her appearance had passed away
since her coming to London. I knew that she was in trouble, and I dared
not ask her the cause of it.

"I wish that we were going back to Braster to-morrow," she said
suddenly. "Everything and everybody is different here. You seem to
spend most of your time trying to avoid me, and--Colonel Ray, I do not
know what is the matter with him, but he has become like a walking
tragedy."

"I have not tried to avoid you," I said. "I--"

Then I stopped short. Her eyes were fixed upon mine and the lie stuck
in my throat. I went on desperately.

"I think," I said, "that if you fancy Colonel Ray is different you
should ask him about it."

She shook her head dejectedly.

"I cannot," she said. "Sometimes I am frightened of Colonel Ray. It is
like that just now."

"But you should try and get over it," I said gently. "He has strange
moods, but you should always remember that he is the man whom you are
going to marry. There ought to be every confidence between you, and I
know--yes, I know that he is very fond of you."

She leaned a little forward. Her hair was a little dishevelled, her
face was almost haggard. Her under lip was quivering like a child's.

"I am afraid of him," she sobbed out suddenly. "I am afraid of him, and
I have promised to marry him. Can't somebody--help me?"

Her head fell suddenly forward and was buried in her hands. Her whole
frame shook with convulsive weeping, and then suddenly a little white
hand shot out towards me. She did not look up, but the hand was there,
timid, yet inviting. I dropped on my knee by her side, and I held it in
mine.

"Dear Lady Angela," I murmured. "You must not give way like this, you
must not! Ray is not used to women, and you are very young. But he
loves you, I know that he loves you."

"I don't--want him to love me," she sobbed. "Oh, I know that I am
foolish and wicked and childish, but I am afraid of him."

I kept silence, for my own battle was a hard one. The little hand was
holding fast to mine. She lay curled up in the corner of the chair, her
face hidden, her slim delicate figure shaking every now and then with
sobs. All the while I longed passionately to take her into my arms and
comfort her.

"Don't!" I begged. "Oh, don't. Ray has told me his story. He has made
me his confidant. He has told me how unhappy he has been, and how he
loves you. Oh, Lady Angela, what is there I can say? What can I do?"

I was losing my head a little, I think, for her fingers were gripping
mine convulsively, warm and tender little fingers which seemed to be
drawing me all the while closer to her.

"I am so miserable," she murmured.

Then suddenly her other arm was around my neck, her wet tear-stained
face was pressed to mine. I scarcely knew how it happened, but I knew
that she was in my arms, and my lips were pressed to hers. A sudden,
beautiful wave of colour flooded her cheeks; she smiled gladly up at me.
She gave a delicious little sigh of satisfaction and then buried her
face on my shoulder. Almost at the same moment Ray entered the room.

She did not at once raise her head, although she pushed me gently away
from her at the sound of the opening door. But I, who was standing
facing that direction, saw him from the first, a dark stern figure,
standing as though rooted to the ground, with the doorhandle still in
his hand. For the second time in one day he seemed to have intervened
at the precise psychological moment. He did not speak to me, nor I to
him. Lady Angela, as though wondering at the silence, turned her head
at last, and a little gasping cry broke from her lips.

"Mostyn," she exclaimed. "Is that you?"

For answer he turned towards the wall and flooded the room with electric
light. Then he looked at us both intently and mercilessly; only this
time I saw that much of his wonderful self-control was wanting. He did
not answer Lady Angela. He did not glance towards her.

"You cur!" he cried. "Twice in a day am I to be brought face to face
with your cursed treachery? Twice in a day! Lady Angela, may I beg
that you will leave us?"

She stood up and faced him, slim and white-faced, yet with her head
thrown back and her voice steady.

"Mostyn," she said, "this is my fault. I do not ask for your
forgiveness. I have behaved shamefully, but I was miserable, and I
forgot. Mr. Ducaine is blameless. It was my fault."

"You will pardon the keenness of my observation," he answered, "but the
attitude in which I was unfortunate enough to find you tells its own
story. You will oblige me, Lady Angela, by leaving us alone."

I would have spoken, but she held out her hand.

"I think you forget, Colonel Ray," she said, "that this is my house. I
am not disposed to leave you and Mr. Ducaine here together in your
present mood."

He laughed harshly.

"Are you afraid for your lover?" he asked. "I promise you that I will
hold his person sacred."

"Lady Angela," I begged. "Please leave us. I--"

Then came an interruption so unexpected and yet so natural that the
whole scene seemed at once to dissolve into bathos. The door was thrown
open, and a footman ushered in callers.

"Lady Chelsford and the Marchioness of Cardenne, your ladyship," he
announced. "Mrs. and the Misses Colquhoun. Sir George Treherne!"

It was a transformation. The room, with its dull note of tragedy, was
suddenly filled with faint perfumes, shaken from the rustling draperies
of half a dozen women, a little chorus of light voices started the babel
of small-talk, Lady Angela had taken her place behind the large round
tea-table and was talking nonsense with the tall young guardsman who had
drawn his chair up to her side, and I, with a plate of sandwiches in my
hand, nearly ran into Ray, who was carrying a cup of tea. For a quarter
of an hour or so we played our parts in the comedy. Then a servant
entered the room and whispered in my ear.

"His Grace would be glad to see you in the library, sir."

I rose at once. Angela's eyes were fixed upon mine questioningly. As I
passed the table I spoke to her, and purposely raised my voice so that
Ray should hear.

"Your father has sent for me, Lady Angela. He is terribly industrious
to-day."

She smiled back to me quietly. I lingered in the hall for a minute,
and Ray joined me there. He did not speak a word, but he motioned me
fiercely to precede him to the library. Directly we entered it was
clear that something unusual had happened. The great safe door stood
open. Lord Chelsford and the Duke were both awaiting our coming.

CHAPTER XXXVI

I LOSE MY POST

The Duke solemnly closed the door. "Ray," he said, "I am glad that you
are here. Something serious has happened. Mr. Ducaine, Lord Chelsford
and I desire to ask you a few questions."

I bowed. What was coming I could not indeed imagine, unless Ray had
already made the disclosure.

"The word code for the safe to-day was Magenta, I believe?" the Duke
asked.

"That is correct, sir," I answered.

"And it was known to whom?"

"To Lord Chelsford, yourself, Colonel Ray, and myself," I answered.

"And what was there in the safe?" the Duke asked.

"The plans for the Guildford Camp, the new map of Surrey pricked for
fortifications, and one or two transport schemes," I answered.

"Exactly! Those documents are now all missing."

I strode to the safe and looked in. It was as the Duke had said. The
safe was practically empty.

"They were there this morning," I said. "It was arranged that I should
examine the contents of the safe the first thing, and take any finished
work over to the War Office. Do you remember who has been in the room
to-day, sir?"

"Yourself, myself, and the woman whom you brought here an hour or so
ago."

"Mrs. Smith-Lessing?" I exclaimed.

"Precisely!" the Duke remarked, drily.

"Did you leave her alone here?" I asked.

"For two minutes only," the Duke answered. "I was called up on the
telephone from the House of Lords. I did not imagine that there could
be the slightest risk in leaving her, for without the knowledge of that
word Magenta the safe would defy a professional locksmith."

"You will forgive my suggesting it, your Grace," I said, with some
hesitation, "but you have not, I presume, had occasion to go to the safe
during the day?"

"I have not," the Duke answered tersely.

"Then I cannot suggest any explanation of the opening of the safe," I
admitted. "It was impossible for Mrs. Smith-Lessing to have opened it
unless she knew the code word."

"The question is," the Duke said quietly, "did she know it?"

Then I realized the object of this cross-examination. The colour flared
suddenly into my cheeks, and as suddenly left them. The absence of
those papers was extraordinary to me. I utterly failed to understand
it.

"I think I know what you mean, sir," I said. "It is true that Mrs.
Smith-Lessing is my stepmother. I believe it is true, too, that she is
connected with the French Secret Police. I was there this
afternoon--you yourself sent me. But I did not tell Mrs. Smith-Lessing
the code word, and I know nothing of the disappearance of those
documents."

Then Ray moved forward and placed deliberately upon the table the roll
of papers which I had given up to him a few hours ago.

"What about these?" he asked, with biting scorn. "Tell the Duke and
Lord Cheisford where I found them! Let us hear your glib young tongue
telling the truth for once, sir."

Both the Duke and Lord Chelsford were obviously startled. Ray had
always been my friend and upholder. He spoke now with very apparent
enmity.

"Perhaps you would prefer to tell the story yourself," I answered. "I
will correct you if it is necessary."

"Very well," he answered. "I will tell the story, and a pitiful one it
is. This boy is watched, as we all know, for, owing to my folly in
ignoring his antecedents, a great trust has been reposed in him. News
was brought to me that he had been seen with his father and Mrs.
Smith-Lessing in Gattini's Restaurant. Later, that he had found his way
to their lodging. I followed him there. He may have gone there with an
errand from you, Duke, but when I arrived he was doing a little business
on his own account, and these papers were in the act of passing from him
to his father."

"What are they?" Lord Chelsford asked.

"Your Lordship may recognize them," I answered quietly. "They are a
summary of the schemes of defence of the southern ports. I was at that
moment, the moment when Colonel Ray entered, considering an offer of
five thousand pounds for them."

Even Ray was staggered at my admission, and the Duke looked as though he
could scarcely believe his ears. Lord Chelsford was busy looking
through the papers.

"You young blackguard," Ray muttered through his teeth. "After that
admission, do you still deny that you told Mrs. Smith-Lessing, or
whatever the woman calls herself, the code word for that safe?"

"Most certainly I deny it," I answered firmly. "The two things are
wholly disconnected."

The Duke sat down heavily in his chair. I knew very well that of the
three men he was the most surprised. Lord Cheisford carefully placed
the papers which he had been reading in his breast-pocket. Ray leaned
over towards him.

"Lord Chelsford," he said, "and you, Duke, you took this young man on
trust, and I pledged my word for him. Like many a better man, I made a
mistake. For all that we know he has secret copies of all the work he
has done for us, ready to dispose of. What in God's name, are we going
to do with him?"

"What do you suggest?" Lord Chelsford asked softly.

"My way would not be yours," Ray answered, with a hard laugh. "I am
only half civilized, you know, and if he and I were alone in the desert
at this moment I would shoot him without remorse. Such a breach of
trust as this deserves death."

"We are, unfortunately," Lord Cheisford remarked, "not in a position to
adopt such extreme measures. It would not even be wise for us to
attempt to formulate a legal charge against him. The position is
somewhat embarrassing. What do you suggest, Duke?"

I glanced towards the Duke, and I was surprised to see that his hands
were shaking. For a man who rarely displayed feeling the Duke seemed to
be wonderfully affected.

"I can suggest nothing," he answered in a low tone. "I must confess
that I am bewildered. These matters have developed so rapidly."

Lord Cheisford looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I have a plan in my mind," he said slowly. "Duke, should I be taking a
liberty if I asked to be left alone with this young man for five
minutes?"

The Duke rose slowly to his feet. He had the air of one not altogether
approving of the suggestion. Ray glowered upon us both, but offered no
objection. They left the room together. Lord Cheisford at once turned
to me.

"Ducaine," he said, "forgive me that I did not come to your aid. I will
see that you do not suffer later on. But what in Heaven's name is the
meaning of this last abstraction' from the safe?"

I shook my head.

"The woman could never have guessed the word!" I said.

"Impossible!" he agreed. "Ducaine, do you know why Lord Blenavon left
England so suddenly?"

"Colonel Ray knows, sir," I answered. "Ask him!"

Lord Chelsford became very thoughtful.

"Ducaine," he said, "we are in a fix. So far your plan has worked to
perfection. Paris has plenty of false information, and your real copies
have all reached me safely. But if you leave, how is this to be carried
on? I do not know whom I mistrust, but if the day's work of the Board
is really to be left in 'the safe, either here or at Braster--"

"You must choose my successor yourself, sir," I interrupted.

"The Duke has always opposed my selections. Besides, you have prepared
your false copies with rare skill. Even I was deceived for a moment
just now by your summary. You don't overdo it. Everything is just a
little wrong. I am not sure even now whether I should not do better to
tell Ray and the Duke the truth."

"I am in your hands, sir," I answered. "You must do as you think best."

"They will be back in a moment. It is absurd to doubt either of them,
Ducaine. Yet I shall keep silent. I have an idea. Agree to everything
I say."

The Duke and Ray returned together. Lord Chelsford turned to them.

"Mr. Ducaine," he said, coldly, "persists in his denial of any
knowledge of to-day's affair. With regard to the future, I have offered
him his choice of an arrest on the charge of espionage, or a twelve
months' cruise on the Ajax, which leaves to-morrow for China. He has
chosen the latter. I shall take steps of course to see that he is not
allowed to land at any calling-place, or dispatch letters."

Ray smiled a little cruelly.

"The idea is an excellent one, Chelsford," he said. "When did you say
that the Ajax sailed?"

"To-morrow," Lord Cheisford answered. "I propose to take Mr. Ducaine
to my house to-night, and to hand him over to the charge of a person on
whom I can thoroughly rely."

The Duke looked at me curiously.

"Mr. Ducaine consents to go?" he asked.

"It is a voyage which I have long desired to take," I answered coolly,
"though I never expected to enjoy it at my country's expense."

The Duke rang the bell.

"Will you have Mr. Ducaine's things packed and sent across--did you say
to your house, Lord Chelsford?"

"To my house," Lord Chelsford assented.

"To No. 19, Grosvenor Square," the Duke ordered. "Mr. Ducaine will
not be returning."

Lord Chelsford rose. I followed his example. Neither the Duke nor Ray
attempted any form of farewell. The former, however, laid some notes
upon the table.

"I believe, Mr. Ducaine," he said, "that there is a month's salary due
to you. I have added something to the amount. Until to-day I have
always considered your duties admirably fulfilled."

I looked at the notes and at the Duke.

"I thank your Grace," I answered. "I will take the liberty of declining
your gift. My salary has been fully paid."

For a moment I fancied I caught a softer gleam in Ray's eyes. He seemed
about to speak, but checked himself. Lord Chelsford hurried me from the
room, and into his little brougham, which was waiting.

"Do you really mean me to go to China, sir?" I asked him, anxiously.

"Not I!" he answered. "I am going to send you to Braster."

CHAPTER XXXVII

LORD CHELSFORD'S DIPLOMACY

I dined alone with Lord and Lady Chelsford. From the moment of our
arrival at Chelsford House my host had encouraged nothing but the most
general conversation. It happened that they were alone, as a great
dinner party had been postponed at the last moment owing to some Royal
indisposition. Lord Chelsford in his wife's presence was careful to
treat me as an ordinary guest; but directly she had left the room and we
were alone he abandoned his reticence.

"Mr. Ducaine," he said, "from the time of our last conversation at the
War Office and our subsequent _tete-a-tete_ I have reposed in you the
most implicit confidence."

"I have done my best, sir," I answered, "to deserve it."

"I believe you," he declared. "I am going now to extend it. I am going
to tell you something which will probably surprise you very much. Since
the first time when you found your documents tampered with, every map
and every word of writing entrusted to the safe, either at Braster House
or Cavendish Square, has been got at. Exact copies of them are in Paris
to-day."

I looked at him in blank amazement. The thing seemed impossible.

"But in very many cases," I protested, "the code word for opening the
safe has been known only to Colonel Ray, the Duke, and myself."

"The fact remains as I have stated it," Lord Chelsford said slowly. "My
information is positive. When you came to me and suggested that you
should make two copies of everything, one correct, one a mass of
incorrectness, I must admit that I thought the idea farfetched and
unworkable. Events, however, have proved otherwise. I have safely
received everything which you sent me, and up to the present, with the
exception of that first plan of the Winchester forts, our secrets are
unknown. But now we have come to a deadlock."

"If you do not mind telling me, Lord Chelsford, I should very much like
to know why you did not explain the exact circumstances to Ray and the
Duke this afternoon."

Lord Chelsford nodded.

"I thought that you would ask that," he said. "It is not altogether an
easy question to answer. Remember this. The French War Office are
to-day in possession of an altogether false scheme of our proposed
defences--a scheme which, if they continue to regard it as genuine,
should prove nothing short of disastrous to them. Only you and I are in
the secret at present. Positively I did not feel that I cared to extend
that knowledge to a single other person."

"But you might have told Colonel Ray and the Duke separately," I
remarked. "The Duke has never been my friend, and Ray has other causes
for being angry with me just at present; but between them they rescued
me from something like starvation, and it is terrible for them to think
of me as they are doing now."

Lord Chelsford poured himself out a glass of wine, and held it up to the
light for a moment.

"Mr. Ducaine," he said, "a secret is a very subtle thing. Though the
people who handle it are men of the most unblemished honour and
reputation, still the fewer they are, the safer the life of that
secret."

"But the Duke and Colonel Ray!" I protested.

"I might remind you," Lord Chelsford said, smiling, "that those are
precisely the two persons who shared with you the knowledge of the word
which opened the safe."

I laughed.

"I presume that you do not suspect either of them?" I remarked.

"The absurdity is obvious," Lord Cheisford answered. "But the force of
my former remark remains. I like that secret better when it rests
between you and me. It means, I know, that for a time--I promise you
that it shall be only for a time--you must lose your friends, but the
cause is great enough, and it should be within our power to reward you
later on."

"Oh, I am willing enough," I answered. "But may I ask what you are
going to do with me?"

Lord Chelsford smoked in silence for several moments.

"Mr. Ducaine," he said, "who is there in the household of the Duke who
opens that safe and copies those papers? Who is the traitor?"

"God only knows!" I answered. "It is a hopeless mystery."

"Yet we must solve it," Lord Chelsford said, "and quickly. If a single
batch of genuine maps and plans were tampered with, disparities would
certainly appear, and the thing might be suspected. Besides, upon the
face of it, the thing is terribly serious."

"You have a plan," I said.

"I have," Lord Chelsford answered calmly. "You remember Grooton?"

"Certainly! He was a servant at Braster."

"And the very faithful servant of his country also," Lord Chelsford
remarked. "You know, I believe, that he was a secret service man. He
is entirely safe, and I have sent for him. Now I imagine that the Duke
will wish our new secretary to live still at the 'Brand'--he preferred
it in your case, as you will remember. Our new secretary is going to be
my nephew. He is very stolid and honest, and fortunately not a
chatterbox. He is going to be the nominal secretary, but I want you to
be the one who really does the work."

"I am afraid I don't understand!" I was forced to admit.

"It will mean," Lord Cheisford said, "some privation and a great deal of
inconvenience for you. But I am going to ask you to face it, for the
end to be gained is worth it. I want you also to be at the 'Brand,' but
to lie hidden all the day time. You can have one of the upstair rooms
fitted as a writing room. Then you and my nephew can do the
transposition. And beyond all that I want you to think--to think and to
watch."

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