E. Phillips Oppenheim - The Betrayal

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I did not wish to speak about these things, even with Lady Angela. I
tried to lead the conversation into other channels, but she absolutely
ignored my attempt.

"There is something about it all so grimly mysterious," she said. "It
seems almost as though there must be a traitor, if not in the Council
itself, in some special and privileged position."

She looked up at me as though asking for confirmation of her views. I
shook my head.

"Lady Angela," I said, "would you mind if I abstained from expressing
any opinion at all? It is a subject which I feel it is scarcely right
for me to discuss."

She looked at me with wide-open eyes, a dash of insolence mingled with
her surprise. I do not know what she was about to say, for at that
moment the young man with the sombre shooting suit and closely cropped
hair paused for a moment on his way out of the breakfast-room.
He glanced at me, and I received a brief impression of an
unwholesome-looking person with protuberant eyeballs, thin lashes, and
supercilious mouth.

"I trust that the day's entertainment will include something more than a
glimpse of Lady Angela," he said, with a low bow.

She raised her eyes. It seemed to me, who was watching her closely,
that she shrank a little back in her seat. I was sure that she shared
my instinctive dislike of the man.

"I think not," she said. "Perhaps you are expecting me to come down
with the lunch and compliment you all upon your prowess."

"It would be delightful!" he murmured.

She shook her head.

"There are too many of you, and I am too few," she said lightly.
"Besides, shooting is one of the few sports with which I have no
sympathy at all. I shall try and get somewhere away from the sound of
your guns."

"I myself," he said, "am not what you call a devotee of the sport. I
wonder if part of the day one might play truant. Would Lady Angela take
pity upon an unentertained guest?"

"I should find it a shocking nuisance," she said, coolly. "Besides, it
would not be allowed. You will find that when my father has once
marshalled you, escape is a thing not to be dreamed of. Every one says
that he is a perfect martinet where a day's shooting is concerned."

He smiled enigmatically. "We shall see," he remarked, as he turned
away. Lady Angela watched him disappear. "Do you know who that is?"
she asked me. I shook my head. "Some one French, very French," I
remarked. "He should be," she remarked. "That is Prince Henri de
Malors. He represents the hopes of the Royalists in France."

"It is very interesting," I murmured. "May I ask is he an old family
friend?"

"Our families have been connected by marriage," she answered. "He and
Blenavon saw a great deal of one another in Paris, very much to the
disadvantage of my brother, I should think. I believe that there was
some trouble at the Foreign Office about it."

"It is very interesting," I repeated.

"Blenavon was very foolish," she declared. "It was obviously a most
indiscreet friendship for him, and Paris was his first appointment. But
I must go and speak to some of these people."

She rose and left me a little abruptly. I escaped by one of the side
entrances, and hurried back to my cottage.

CHAPTER XII

AN ACCIDENT

The Prince accepted my most comfortable easy chair with an air of
graceful condescension. Lady Angela had already seated herself. It was
late in the afternoon, and Grooton was busy in the room behind,
preparing my tea.

"The Prince did not care to shoot to-day," Lady Angela explained, "and I
have been showing him the neighbourhood. Incidentally, I am dying for
some tea, and the Prince has smoked all his cigarettes."

The Prince raised his hand in polite expostulation, but he accepted a
cigarette with a little sigh of relief.

"You have found a very lonely spot for your dwelling-house, Mr.
Ducaine," he said. "You English are so fond of solitude."

"It suits me very well," I answered, "for just now I have a great deal
of work to do. I am safely away from all distractions here."

Lady Angela smiled at me.

"Not quite so safe perhaps, Mr. Ducaine, as you fondly imagined," she
remarked. "I am afraid that we disturbed you. You look awfully busy."

She glanced towards my writing-table. It was covered with papers, and a
map of the southern counties leaned up against the wall. The Prince
also was glancing curiously in the same direction.

"I have finished my work for the day," I said, rising. "If you will
permit me, I will put it away."

Grooton brought in tea. The Prince was politely curious as to the
subject matter of those closely written sheets of paper.

"You are perhaps interested in literature, Mr. Ducaine," he remarked.

"Immensely," I answered, waving my hand towards my bookshelves.

"But you yourself--you no doubt write?"

"Oh, one tries," I answered, pouring out the tea.

"It may be permitted then to wish you success," he remarked dryly.

"You are very good," I answered.

Lady Angela calmly interposed. The Prince ate buttered toast and drank
tea with a bland affectation of enjoyment. They rose almost immediately
afterwards.

"You are coming up to the house this evening, Mr. Ducaine?" Lady Angela
asked.

"I am due there now," I answered. "If you will allow me, I will walk
back with you."

The Prince touched my arm as Lady Angela passed out before us.

"I am anxious, Mr. Ducaine," he said, looking me in the face, "for a
few minutes' private conversation with you. I shall perhaps be
fortunate enough to find you at home to-morrow."

He did not wait for my answer, for Lady Angela looked back, and he
hastened to her side. He seemed in no hurry, however, to leave the
place. The evening was cloudy and unusually dark. A north wind was
tearing through the grove of stunted firs, and the roar of the incoming
sea filled the air with muffled thunder. The Prince looked about him
with a little grimace.

"It is indeed a lonely spot," he remarked. "One can imagine anything
happening here. Did I not hear of a tragedy only the other day--a man
found dead?"

"If you have a taste for horrors, Prince," I remarked, "you can see the
spot from the edge of the cliff here."

The Prince moved eagerly forward.

"I disclaim all such weakness," he said, "but the little account which I
read, or did some one tell me of it?--ah, I forget; but it interested
me."

I pointed downwards to where the creek-riven marshes merged into the
sands.

"It was there--a little to the left of the white palings," I said. "The
man was supposed to have been cast up from the sea."

He measured the distance with his eye. I anticipated his remark.

"The tide is only halfway up now," I said, "and on that particular night
there was a terrible gale."

"Nevertheless," he murmured, half to himself, "it is a long way. Was
the man what you call identified, Mr. Ducaine?"

"No!"

"There were no letters or papers found upon him?"

"None."

The Prince looked at me sharply.

"That," he said softly, "was strange. Does it not suggest to you that
he may have been robbed?"

"I had not thought of it," I answered. "The verdict, I believe, was
simply Found drowned."

"Found drowned," the Prince repeated. "Ah! Found drowned.
By-the-bye," he added suddenly, "who did find him?"

"I did," I said coolly.

"You?" The Prince peered at me closely through the dim light. "That,"
he said reflectively, "is interesting."

"You find it so interesting," I remarked, "that perhaps you could help
to solve the question of the man's identity."

He seemed startled.

"I?" he exclaimed. "But, no. Why should you think that?"

I turned to join Lady Angela. He did not immediately follow.

"Why did you bring him?" I asked her softly. "You had some reason."

"He was making inquiries about you," she answered, "secretly and openly.
I thought you ought to know, and I could think of no other way of
putting you on your guard."

"The Prince of Malors!" I murmured. "He surely would not stoop to play
the spy."

She was silent, and moved a step or two farther away from the spot where
he still stood as though absorbed. His angular figure was clearly
defined through the twilight against the empty background of space. He
was on the very edge of the cliff, almost looking over.

"I know very little about him myself," she said hurriedly, "but I have
heard the others talk, Lord Chelsford especially. He is a man, they
say, with a twofold reputation. He has played a great part in the world
of pleasure, almost a theatrical part; but, you know, the French people
like that."

"It is true," I murmured. "They love their heroes decked in tinsel."
She nodded.

"They say that it is part of a pose, and that he has serious political
ambitions. He contemplates always some great scheme which shall make
him the idol, if only for a day, of the French mob. A day would be
sufficient, for he would strike while--Prince, be careful," she called
out. "Ah!"

We heard a shrill cry, and we saw the Prince sway on the verge of the
cliff. He threw up his arms and clutched wildly at the air, but he was
too late to save himself. We saw the ground crumble beneath his feet,
and with a second cry of despair he disappeared.

Grooton, Lady Angela, and I reached the edge of the cliff at about the
same moment. We peered over in breathless anxiety. Lady Angela
clutched my arm, and for a moment I did not in the least care what had
happened to the Prince.

"Don't be frightened," I whispered. "The descent is not by any means
sheer. He can't possibly have got to the bottom. I will clamber down
and look for him,"

She shuddered.

"Oh, you mustn't," she exclaimed. "It is not safe. How terrible it
looks down there!"

I raised my voice and shouted. Almost immediately there came an answer.

"I am here, my friends, in the middle of a bush. I dare not move. It
is so dark I cannot see where to put my foot. Can you lower me a
lantern, and I will see if I can climb up?"

Grooton hastened back to the cottage.

"I think you will be all right," I cried out. "It is not half as steep
as it looks."

"I believe," he answered, "that I can see a path up. But I will wait
until the lantern comes."

The lantern arrived almost immediately. We lowered it to him by a rope,
and he examined the face of the cliff.

"I think that I can get up," he cried out, "but I should like to help
myself with the rope. Can you both hold it tightly?"

"All right," I answered. "We've got it."

He clambered up with surprising agility. But as he reached the edge of
the cliff he groaned heavily.

"Are you hurt?" Lady Angela asked.

"It is my foot," he muttered, "my left foot. I twisted it in falling."

Grooton and I helped him to the cottage. He hobbled painfully along
with tightly clenched lips.

"I shall have to ask for a pony cart to get up to the house, I am
afraid," he said. "I am very sorry to give you so much trouble, Mr.
Ducaine."

"The trouble is nothing,". I answered, "but I am wondering how on earth
you managed to fall over the cliff."

"I myself, I scarcely know," he answered, as he sipped the brandy which
Grooton had produced. "I am subject to fits of giddiness, and one came
over me as I stood there looking down. I felt the ground sway, and
remember no more. I am very sorry to give you tall this trouble, but
indeed I fear that I cannot walk."

"We will send you down a cart," I declared. "You will have rather a
rough drive across the grass, but there is no other way."

"You are very kind," he declared. "I am in despair at my clumsiness."

I gave him my box of cigarettes. Lady Angela hesitated.

"I think," she said, "that I ought to stay with you, Prince, while Mr.
Ducaine goes up for the cart."

"Indeed, Lady Angela, you are very kind," he answered, "but I could not
permit it. I regret to say that I am in some pain, and I have a
weakness for being alone when I suffer. If I desire anything Mr.
Ducaine's servant will be at hand."

So we left him there. At any other time the prospect of that walk with
Lady Angela would have filled me with joy. But from the first moment of
leaving the cottage I was uneasy.

"What do you think of that man?" I asked her abruptly. "I mean
personally?"

"I hate him," she answered coolly. "He is one of those creatures whose
eyes and mouth, and something underneath his most respectful words, seem
always to suggest offensive things. I find it very hard indeed to be
civil to him."

"Do you happen to know what Colonel Ray thinks of him?" I asked her.

"I have no special knowledge of Colonel Ray's likes or dislikes," she
answered.

"Forgive me," I said. "I thought that you and he were very intimate,
and that you might know. I wonder whether he takes the Prince
seriously."

"Colonel Ray is one of my best friends," she said, "but I am not in his
confidence."

A slight reserve had crept into her tone. I stole a glance at her face;
paler and more delicate than ever it seemed in the gathering darkness.
Her lips were firmly set, but her eyes were kind. A sudden desire for
her sympathy weakened me.

"Lady Angela," I said, "I must talk to some one. I do not know whom to
trust. I do not know who is honest. You are the only person whom I
dare speak to at all."

She looked round cautiously. We were out of the plantation now, in the
open park, where eavesdropping was impossible.

"You have a difficult post, Mr. Ducaine," she said, "and you will
remember--"

"Oh, I remember," I interrupted. "You warned me not to take' it. But
think in what a position I was. I had no career, I was penniless. How
could I throw away such a chance?"

"Something has happened--this morning, has it not?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Yes."

She waited for me to go on. She was deeply interested. I could hear
her breath coming fast, though we were walking at a snail's pace. I
longed to confide in her absolutely, but I dared not.

"Do not ask me to tell you what it was," I said. "The knowledge would
only perplex and be a burden to you. It is all the time like poison in
my brain."

We were walking very close together. I felt her fingers suddenly upon
my arm and her soft breath upon my cheek.

"But if you do not tell me everything--how can you expect my sympathy,
perhaps my help?"

"I may not ask you for either," I answered sadly. "The knowledge of
some things must remain between your father and myself."

"Between my father--and yourself!" she repeated.

I was silent, and then we both started apart. Behind us we could hear
the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching, soft quick footsteps,
muffled and almost noiseless upon the spongy turf. We stood still.

CHAPTER XIII

A BRIBE

I wheeled round and peered into the darkness. Lady Angela's fingers
clutched my arm. I could feel that she was trembling violently. It was
Grooton whose figure loomed up almost immediately before us--Grooton,
bareheaded and breathless. "What is it?" I exclaimed quickly. "I
think, sir, that you had better return," he panted.

He pointed over his shoulder towards the "Brand," and I understood. In
a moment I was on my way thither, running as I had not done since my
college days. I stumbled over antheaps, and more than once I set my
foot in a rabbit hole, but somehow I kept my balance. As I neared the
cottage I slackened my speed and proceeded more stealthily. I drew
close to the window and peered in. Grooton had been right indeed to
fetch me. The Prince was standing before my desk, with a bundle of
papers in his hand. I threw open the door and entered the room. Swift
though my movement had been, a second's difficulty with the catch had
given the Prince his opportunity. He was back in his easy chair when I
entered, reclining there with half-closed eyes. He looked up at me with
well simulated surprise.

"You are soon back, Mr. Ducaine," he remarked calmly. "Did you forget
something?"

"I forgot," I answered, struggling to recover my breath, "to lock up my
desk."

"An admirable precaution," he admitted, watching as I gathered my papers
together, "especially if one has valuables. It is an exposed spot this,
and very lonely."

"I am curious," I said, leaning against the table and facing him, "I am
curious to know which of my poor possessions can possibly be of interest
or value to the Prince of Malors."

The calm hauteur of his answering stare was excellently done. I had a
glimpse now of the aristocrat.

"You speak in enigmas, young man," he said. "Kindly be more explicit."

"My language can scarcely be more enigmatic than your actions," I
answered. "I was fool enough to trust you and I left you here alone.
But you were not unobserved, Prince. My servant, I am thankful to say,
is faithful. It was he who summoned me back."

"Indeed!" he murmured.

"I might add," I continued, "that I took the liberty of looking in
through the side window there before entering."

"If it amused you to do so, or to set your servant to spy upon me," he
said, "I see no reason to object. But your meaning is still
unexplained."

"The onus of explanation," I declared, "appears to me to rest with you,
Prince. I offered the hospitality of my room, presumably to a
gentleman--not to a person who would seize that opportunity to examine
my private papers."

"You speak with assurance, Mr. Ducaine."

"The assurance of knowledge," I answered. "I saw you at my desk from
outside."

"You should consult an oculist," he declared. "I have not left this
chair. My foot is still too painful."

"You lie well, Prince," I answered, "but not well enough."

He looked at me thoughtfully.

"I am endeavouring," he said, "to accommodate myself to the customs of
this wonderful country of yours. In France one sends one's seconds.
What do you do here to a man who calls you a liar?"

"We treat him," I answered hotly, "as the man deserves to be treated who
abuses the hospitality of a stranger, and places himself in the position
of a common thief."

The Prince shrugged his shoulders lightly, and helped himself to one of
my cigarettes.

"You are very young, Mr. Ducaine," he said, looking at me thoughtfully.
"You have no doubt your career to make in the world. So, in a greater
sense of the word, have I. I propose, if you will allow me, to be quite
frank with you."

"I have no wish for your confidences, Prince," I answered. "They cannot
possibly concern or interest me."

"Do not be too sure of that," he said. "Like all young men of your age,
you jump too readily at conclusions. It is very possible that you and I
may be of service to one another, and I may add that those who have been
of service to the Prince of Malors have seldom had cause to regret it."

"This conversation," I interposed, "seems to me to be beside the point.
I have no desire to be of service to you. My inclinations are rather
the other way."

"The matter may become more clear to you if you will only curb your
impatience, my young friend," the Prince said. "It is only my ambition
to serve my country, to command the gratitude of a nation which to-day
regards both me and mine with mingled doubt and suspicion. I have
ambitions, and I should be an easy and generous master to serve."

"I am honoured with your confidence, Prince, but I still fail to see how
these matters concern me," I said, setting my teeth hard.

"With your permission I will make it quite clear," he continued. "For
years your War Office has suffered from constant dread of an invasion by
France. The rumour of our great projected manoeuvres in the autumn have
inspired your statesmen with an almost paralysing fear. They see in
these merely an excuse for marshalling and equipping an irresistible
army within striking distance of your Empire. Personally I believe that
they are entirely mistaken in their estimate of my country's intentions.
That, however, is beside the mark. You follow me?"

"Perfectly," I assured him. "This is most interesting, although as yet
it seems to me equally irrelevant."

"Your War Office," the Prince continued, "has established a Secret
Council of Defence, whose only task it is to plan the successful
resistance to that invasion, if ever it should take place. You, Mr.
Ducaine, are, I believe, practically the secretary of that Council. You
have to elaborate the digests of the meetings, to file schemes for the
establishment of fortifications and camps; in a word, the result of
these meetings passes through your hands. I will not beat about the
bush, Mr. Ducaine. You can see that you have something in your keeping
which, if passed on to me, would accomplish my whole aim. The army
would be forced to acknowledge my claim upon them; the nation would hear
of it."

"Well," I asked, "supposing all you say is true? What then?"

"You are a little obtuse, Mr. Ducaine," the Prince said softly. "If
twenty thousand pounds would quicken your understanding--"

I picked up a small inkpot from the side of the table and hurled it at
him. He sprang aside, but it caught the corner of his forehead, and he
gave a shrill cry of pain. He struck a fierce blow at me, which I
parried, and a moment later we were locked in one another's arms. I
think that we must have been of equal strength, for we swayed up and
down the room, neither gaining the advantage, till I felt my breath come
short and my head dizzy. Nevertheless, I was slowly gaining the
mastery. My grasp upon his throat was tightening. I had hold of his
collar and tie, and I could have strangled him with a turn of my wrist.
Just then the door opened. There was a quick exclamation of horrified
surprise in a familiar tone. I threw him from me to the ground, and
turned my head. It was Lady Angela who stood upon the threshold.

CHAPTER XIV

A RELUCTANT APOLOGY

Lady Angela looked at us both in cold surprise.

"Mr. Ducaine! Prince!" she exclaimed. "What is the meaning of this
extraordinary exhibition?"

The Prince, whose sangfroid was marvellous, rose to his feet, and began
to wipe his forehead with a spotless cambric handkerchief.

"My dear Lady Angela," he said, "I am most distressed that you should
have been a witness of this--extraordinary incident. I have been trying
to adapt myself to the methods of your country, but, alas! I cannot say
that I am enamoured of them. Here, it seems, that gentlemen who differ
must behave like dustmen. Will you pardon me if I turn my back to you
for a moment? I see a small mirror, and I am convinced that my tie and
collar need readjustment."

"But why quarrel at all?" she exclaimed. "Mr. Ducaine," she added,
turning coolly to me, "I trust you have remembered that the Prince is my
father's guest."

I was speechless, but the Prince himself intervened.

"The blame, if any," he declared, "was mine. Mr. Ducaine appeared to
misunderstand me from the first. I believe that his little ebullition
arose altogether from too great zeal on behalf of his employers. I
congratulate him upon it, while I am bound to deprecate his extreme
measures."

"And you, Mr. Ducaine," she asked, turning towards me, "what have you
to say?"

"Nothing," I declared, stung by her tone and manner as much as by his
coolness, "except that I found the Prince of Malors meddling with my
private papers, and subsequently I interrupted him in the offer of a
bribe."

The Prince smoothed his necktie, which he had really tied very well,
complacently.

"The personal belongings of Mr. Ducaine," he said calmly, "are without
interest to me. I fancy that the Prince of Malors can ignore any
suggestions to the contrary. As for the bribe, Mr. Ducaine talks
folly. I am not aware that he has anything to sell, and I decline to
believe him a blackmailer. I prefer to look upon him as a singularly
hot-headed and not over-intelligent person, who takes very long jumps at
conclusions. Lady Angela, I find my foot much better. May I have the
pleasure of escorting you to the house?"

I held my tongue, knowing very well that the Prince played his part
solely that I might be entrapped into speech. But Lady Angela seemed
puzzled at my silence. She looked at me for a moment inquiringly out of
her soft dark eyes. I made no sign. She turned away to the Prince.

"If you are sure that you can walk without pain," she said. "We will
not trouble you, Mr. Ducaine," she added, as I moved to open the door.

So they left me alone, and I was not sure whether the honours remained
with him or with me. He had never for a moment lost his dignity, nor
had he even looked ridiculous when calmly rearranging his tie and
collar. I laughed to myself bitterly as I prepared to follow them. I
was determined to lay the whole matter before the Duke at once.

As I reached the terrace I saw a man walking up and down, smoking a
pipe. He stood at the top of the steps and waited for me. It was
Colonel Ray. He took me by the arm.

"I have been waiting for you, Ducaine," he said. "I was afraid that I
might miss you, or I should have come down."

"I am on my way to the Duke," I said, "and my business is urgent."

"So is mine," he said grimly. "I want to know exactly what has passed
between you and the Prince of Malors."

"I am not at all sure, Colonel Ray," I answered, "that I am at liberty
to tell you. At any rate, I think that I ought to see the Duke first."

His face darkened, his eyes seemed to flash threatening fires upon me.
He was smoking so furiously that little hot shreds of tobacco fell from
his pipe.

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